56 CHILDREN OF THE SUN. 
But the fact was, the whitethroat had at that: 
very moment sprung straight up into the air, 
singing, and returned again, still singing, falling 
like a spent rocket into the hedge. ‘This was 
his custom, but it was unfortunate for the 
mouse, who, a second after the bird rose, had 
thrust out his head at the same spot. 
