The Schoolboy: Saint-Leons 



my hand. Let him cast a stone at me that has 

 not, in his childhood, known the rapture of finding 

 his first nest. 



My delicate burden, which would be ruined by 

 a false step, makes me give up the remainder of 

 the climb. Some other day I shall see the trees 

 on the hill-top over which the sun rises. I go 

 down the slope again. At the bottom I meet the 

 parish priest's curate reading his breviary as he 

 takes his walk. He sees me coming solemnly along, 

 like a relic-bearer; he catches sight of my hand 

 hiding something behind my back: 



" What have you there, my boy ? " he asks. 



All abashed, I open my hand and show my blue 

 egg on its bed of moss. 



"Ah!" says his reverence. "A Saxicola's egg! 

 Where did you get it? " 



" Up there, father, under a stone." 



Question follows question ; and my peccadillo 

 stands confessed. " By chance I found a nest 

 which I was not looking for. There were six 

 eggs in it. I took one of them — here it is; — and 

 I am waiting for the rest to hatch. I shall go 

 back for the others when the young birds have 

 their quill-feathers." 



" You mustn't do that, my little friend," replies 

 the priest. " You mustn't rob the mother of her 

 brood; you must respect the innocent little ones; 

 you must let God's birds grow up and fly from 

 the nest. They are the joy of the fields, and they 

 clear the earth of its vermin. Be a good boy, now, 

 and don't touch the nest." 



