150 



THE THRUSH 



frame, his erect carriage, his feverish eye, stopping on the 

 moor to h'sten to the song of the thrush. 



(( He blew out his brains on this very spot, sir, conti- 

 nued the driver, you see he was a gambler ; he had just 

 lost some enormous sums at the Casino, and had a wife 

 and children. One morning, as he was coming home, 

 he sat down yonder, facing his avenue, and blew out his 

 brains ! A great pity, to be sure ! a magnificent looking 

 man, and so merry when he had good luck ! Sometimes, 

 when I (h'ove him to Saint-Malo, he made me stop on the 

 road to listen to the thrush. He used to say that it brought 

 him luck ! It inust surely be, that the thrush had'nt sung 

 that morning! » 



