THE FINCH FAMILY. 69 



"What do I want with the gun? Hawfinches; 

 they hawfinches in my peas ! " he grunts. 



As he leaves the tool-house I quietly follow, and 

 place myself with him behind a low fagot -stack 

 which stands in a line with the peas. 



"Jest hear 'em! ain't it cruel?" he whispers. 

 " I hope the whole roost of 'em may git in a lump 

 so that I ken blow 'em to rags an' tatters. If you 

 didn't know what it was you'd think some old cow 

 was grindin' up them peas. Ain't they scrunchin' 

 of 'em ? All right now, I ken see you grindin' var- 

 mints ! Now for it ! " Bang ! 



Three birds fall young ones in their first plumage, 

 which has a strong likeness to that of a greenfinch. 



After picking the birds up, we examine the pea- 

 rows. There is no doubt as to the mischief the birds 

 have done. The old fellow's own expression, "grind- 

 ing up," is the best to convey any idea of the de- 

 struction that has taken place. Where the birds 

 have been, nothing remains but the stringy portion 

 of the pods of his precious " Marrer fats." 



There is enormous power in the bill of the haw- 

 finch, when the size of the bird is considered. The 

 pea-pod is simply run through the bill, and the con- 



