72 FRESH WOODS. 



there are too many bushes about ; but they 

 soon got in the way of coming out regularly 

 morning and evening for their bread and 

 milk, which they would lap on the sly, but 

 never would they let us get near them. They 

 were amusing, happy little things. One of 

 them bore a striking resemblance to Charlie, 

 the other favoured his mother. We were 

 only allowed to see them at a distance ; the 

 moment a footstep was heard they were out 

 of sight. Charlie, who seems to have no 

 paternal instincts, treated them with lordly 

 contempt : they might die of starvation for 

 aught he cared. 



One wet and cold morning their bread and 

 milk was unconsumed, and we found them in 

 the bushes curled up, locked in each other's 

 arms like the babes in the wood, both dead. 

 I don't accuse our old gardener of having had 

 any hand in the death of these innocents I 

 only know that he hates cats ! 



Well, with all these cats about, how can 

 we expect birds to build in our bushes ? 

 Charlie can climb like a squirrel, and the 

 remains of many a starling and many a spar- 

 row have I found about the paths. 



Thus for a few weeks sometimes but for a 

 few days in the early spring my town-sur- 

 rounded garden looks charming and inviting; 



