BIRDS. 



59 



revealed their presence, and their number and 

 colour convinced me that they had been torn out 

 of the feline depredator's underparts as he crashed 

 down amongst the twigs. Luckily, I could find not 

 a single feather, which circumstance argued well for 

 the robin's safety. 



The farmer's wife set quite as great store by 

 her cats as I did by the birds, and as I could in 

 no way justify drastic measures in protecting the 

 latter, I set myself the task of discovering how I 

 could best accomplish this most desirable end. 

 Fortunately, I remembered once seeing an inquisitive 

 pussy take a sniff at an uncorked bottle containing 

 a quantity of liquid ammonia, and jump sky-high 



