A Paradise of Birds 



tween the eyes. I thought his skull was cracked. 

 Perhaps it was. The sudden astonishment of 

 that outraged cat, the virtuous indignation 

 and wrath, terror, and pain, are far beyond 

 description. His eyes and screams and desper- 

 ate retreat told all that. When the blow was 

 received, he made a noise that I never heard a 

 cat make before or since ; an awfully deep, con- 

 densed, screechy, explosive Wuckl as he bounced 

 straight up in the air like a bucking bronco; 

 and when he alighted after his spring, he 

 rushed madly across the room and made 

 frantic efforts to climb up the hard-finished 

 plaster wall. Not satisfied to get the width of 

 the kitchen away from his mysterious enemy, 



ifor the first time that cold winter he tried to 

 get out of the house, anyhow, anywhere out of 

 that loon-infested room. When he finally ven- 

 tured to look back and saw that the barbarous 

 bird was still there, tranquil and motionless in 

 front of the stove, he regained command of 

 some of his shattered senses and carefully com- 

 menced to examine his wound. Backed against 

 [ 157 1 



