216 FACT AGAINST FICTION. 



to pass one day of your useless life without Jdlllncj 

 something?'''^ 



Many, many montlis, weeks, and days of my 

 I hope not useless life, are passed in liappy 

 and trusted friendship with the birds and beasts 

 around me, watching their curious and varied 

 luibits, studying" their natures, and endeavouring 

 to obtain their confidence instead of rousing their 

 fears. There is scarce a bush on my manor which 

 does not hold a friendly robin. The l^ird comes 

 to meet me at my approach, sits close to my foot, 

 with its little brightly shining black eye, and 

 craves by look and a sujDpressed warble for the 

 crumbs in my shooting-jacket pocket. If by chance 

 my crumbs for tlie birds have l)een exhausted, 

 which is seldom the case, it makes me quite 

 unhappy to read the disa2)20ointment even a robin 

 can exhibit in the poor little eyes, when I walk 

 close-fisted, but still, I trust, open-hearted, from 

 the solitary bush which never fails to shelter thus 

 even the smallest creature under heaven. 



But to return to the shooting decoy. 



After my line of pools had l)een estal)lished, 

 the few passing wild fowl, who at flight time, 

 or soon after dusk, used to be attracted bv 



