140 



THE BULLFINCH 



tolerant, quarrelsome disposition of these shrews. At the 

 sight of the intruder that came to pilfer on their estates, 

 the hens flew into a great rage. In a second my poor 

 bullfinch was surrounded, worried, picked at and plucked 

 by their sharp bills. 



Leaning out of my window, 1 had followed my fugitive 

 with my eyes, and I understood the danger it was in. 1 

 jumped out of the window, ran to the spot, but il was too 

 late. — Bruised, plucked and bleeding, my poor little 

 companion lay motionless on the dung heap, whilst those 

 harpies were yet worrying it with their bills; — when 1 

 succeeded at last in pulling it out of their clutches, my 

 poor bullfinch was dead. 



