BIRDS AT THE WINDOW 207 



see him stop continually to pick them off. 

 " Gather up the fragments," he says, " that 

 nothing be lost." 



When one of the pieces in the bag is so 

 far nibbled away that a corner of it can be 

 pulled through one of the interstices, matters 

 become exciting. Then comes the tug of 

 war. The eater, who knows that his time is 

 limited, grows almost frantic. He braces 

 himself and pulls, twitching upward and 

 downward and sidewise (" Come out, there, 

 will you?"), while the wind blows him to 

 and fro across the pane, and one or two of 

 his mates sit upon the nearest branch of the 

 elm, eyeing him reproachfully. " You greedy 

 thing ! " they say. " Are you going to stay 

 there forever?" Often their patience gives 

 out (I do not wonder), and one after another 

 they swoop down past the window, not to 

 strike the off ender, but to offer him a hint 

 in the way of moral suasion. Sometimes one 

 alights, with more or less difficulty, on the 

 narrow middle sash just below, and talks to 

 him; or one hovers near the bag, or even 

 perches sidewise on the string, just above, as 

 much as to say, " Look out ! " Then I hear 



