Atalapha, a Winged Brownie 
* wonder of his brother, crawled out of the den, and 
hung himself Bat fashion, heels up, under a thick 
and shady spruce bough close at hand. 
Mother called once or twice, but he answered her 
only with an impatient grunt, or not at all. He 
‘was very well pleased to find it so much cooler 
i and Pleasanter under this bough than in the den, 
; ae eS Sthough in truth the blinding sun was far from 
: 24 one agreeable. 
oe an. The brightness and the heat grew and the bird 
voices mostly died away. But there was one that 
could be heard in sun or shadow, heat or twilight, 
the loud ‘‘Jay, jay” of the Bluejay, the rampant, 
rollicking, mischief bird, the spy and telltale of 
the woods. 
“Jay, jay!” he screamed, when he found a late 
fledgling in the nest of a Vireo and gobbled the 
callow mite as its parents wailed around. “Jay, 
jay, too-rootel!’”’ he chortled as he saw a fat grass- 
hopper left on a thorn by a butcher bird who be- 
lieved in storing food when it was plenty. But 
the Jay polished off the dainty, and hopped gayly 
to a cleft tree into which some large insect had 
buzzed. The Jay tapped with his bill; an angry 
buzz gave warning. 
“Nay, nay!” said the blue terror, and lightly 
flitted to a tall fir out of reach of the angry hornets. 
154 
