BEWITCHED AGAIN. 241 



love of mystery, it may appear strange that I 

 should try again to study him at home, to find his 

 nest and see his family. But there is something 

 so bewitching in his individuality, that, though 

 I may be always baffled, I shall never be dis- 

 couraged. Somewhat later, when it was evident 

 that his spouse had arrived and domestic life had 

 begun, and I became accustomed to hearing a 

 chat in a certain place every day as I passed, I 

 resolved to make one more effort to win his con- 

 fidence, or, if not that, at least his tolerance. 



The chat medley for which I was always lis- 

 tening came invariably from one spot on my 

 pathway up the mountain. It was the lower end 

 of a large horse pasture, and near the entrance 

 stood a small brick house, in which no doubt 

 dwelt the owner, or care-taker, of the animals. 

 The wide gate, in a common fashion of that 

 country, opened in the middle, and was fastened 

 by a link of iron which dropped over the two 

 centre posts. The rattle of the iron as I touched 

 it, on the morning I resolved to go in, brought 

 to the door a woman. She was rather young, 

 with hair cut close to her head, and wore a dark 

 cotton gown, which was short and scant of skirt, 

 and covered with a " checked apron." She was 

 evidently at work, and was probably the mistress, 

 since few in that "working-bee" village kept 

 maids. 



