16 THE TIM BUNKER PAPERS. 



mg and crying in a state of great apprehension in the tree 

 tops. Jerry knew the Deacon as well as any boy knows 

 his senior in a country church that he has always attend 

 ed, but this morning affected ignorance, both of the Dea 

 con and his robins. 



&quot; My dear sir, will you have the kindness to inform me 

 what species of bird this is ? I am making a collection 

 of the feathered tribe for my herbarium, and should like 

 to add this specimen to my list.&quot; 



&quot;This bird,&quot; replied the Deacon, &quot;is known as the 

 Condor of the Andes, the same kind that sometimes car 

 ries off calves.&quot; 



Jeremiah Sparrowgrass, merchant of New York City, 

 did not stop to finish loading his gun, but sloped in the 

 most expeditious manner. 



He crossed the road and struck into the cow pasture of 

 Tim Bunker, thinking less, probably, of his herbarium and 

 scientific attainments, than before he shot at the robin. 

 Here he found birds more plenty than he had known 

 them in his boyhood. A statute of Connecticut, enacted 

 a few years since, which prohibits shooting certain vari 

 eties of birds on another s land, under a heavy penalty, 

 proves a very efficient protection, and the birds have mul 

 tiplied wherever the citizens have enforced it. Timothy 

 Bunker, Esq., being a Justice of the Peace, and arriving 

 at the honor somewhat late in life, had zealously enforced 

 the law in his neighborhood, not only to maintain the dig 

 nity of the law, but to protect his own fields against the 

 depredations of insects. Though a very conservative 

 man,*he could see the benefits of the law, and promptly 

 warned off all intruders from his wood and swamp pas 

 tures, where the birds loved to congregate. 



Jeremiah Sparrowgrass was first saluted by a bobolink 

 from the stake of a rail fence : 



&quot;Link, link-ee, wink, wink-ee, sweetch, sweetch-ee-ee, 

 wee, wee-ee-ee-ee.&quot; His fire brought down poor Bob 



