BY THE MILL-STREAM. 145 



said you'd got a bird-nest in your hands and was 

 looking as pleased as a little kid. He watched you ; 

 presently he said you stopped and picked up a 

 feather, and looked at it for some time. Then you 

 sits down on a fir-log and begins to put somethin' 

 down in a book. He was middlin' curious ; you 

 frightened him, though you didn't know he was near 

 you ; for when he come across me he said, ' There's 

 a furriner or else a looneytic up in the firs ; for he 

 picks up feathers and then does somethin' in a book, 

 and what do ye think he'd got round his neck ? No, 

 it weren't no hankercher at all, it were a menjous 

 big snake, and he was a-chirpin' and a-whistlin' to it.' 

 Joe said he got away quick ; you remember, maybe, 

 about it." 



" I do ; it was my tame snake." 



Presently the talk ran on kingfishers. 



" They can run up and down the stream and do 

 what they like now my fish are moved," says the 

 gamekeeper. " They very nearly got me in a bother 

 they would, too, if I hadn't stopped them. Here's 

 one, the last one from the place look at it ! " 



It was a shapeless lump of feathers. " That's the 

 way to serve 'em out when they gets troublesome. 



K 



