42 SYLVAN SECRETS. 



mote relationship to our bird, but the testi- 

 mony of this does not amount to evidence. 

 We must take Alcyon as he is, without any 

 genealogical table or ancient armorial relics. 

 He is not an aristocrat, if the index of aris- 

 tocracy is a well-formed foot, for, like all his 

 /amily, he has but three good toes, and they 

 are as rough and ugly as warts. Compared 

 with those of the mocking-bird, indeed, his 

 feet appear scarcely more than rudimentary 

 (about on a par with his vocal organs, advanc- 

 ing the comparison so as to weigh his rattling 

 laugh with the ecstatic song of Mimuspolyg- 

 lottus), still he perches very firmly and, after 

 a fashion, gracefully. His descent upon a 

 minnow is a miracle of motion, accompanied 

 by a surpassing feat of vision. We will 

 imagine him seated on a bough thirty feet 

 above the brook- stream. The sunshine comes 

 down in flakes like burning snow upon the 

 twinkling, palpitating water, making the 

 surface flicker and glimmer in a way to dis- 

 tract any eye. Down in this water is the 

 minnow which Alcyon is to catch and swal- 

 low, a minnow whose sides are silver just 

 touched with gold, flitting and flashing here 

 and there, never still, flippant as the wavelets 

 themselves. Mark the bird's attitude and ex- 

 pression as they blend into a sort of serio- 

 comic enigma crest erect and bristling, eyes 

 set and burning, bill elevated at a slight 

 angle, tail depressed, wings shut close, 

 the whole figure motionless. Suddenly he 

 falls like a thought, a sky-blue film marking 

 the line of descent to where he strikes. He 

 pierces the pool like an arrow, disappearing 

 for a second in the centre of a great whirling, 

 leaping bubbling dimple of the water, with a 

 musical plunge-note once heard never forgot- 



