AUGUST. 
A PIRATE RAID. 
i lege field at the middle of the slope stood 
clear and brilliant in the hot afternoon 
sun. The contrast between pale-gold ‘stubble 
and rich chocolate plough-ground was a delight 
to the eye. 
Green plovers, trim and gay in green-black 
jackets and cravats and white waistcoats, drew 
bold little moving patches on the ploughed 
earth; unpretentious partridges crept in their 
deprecating way in Indian file up the furrows ; 
a cock - pheasant, with ‘winged helmet’ of 
green and livery of bronze, flashed back the 
sun’s rays at every turn. 
Then came the scout, and every head shot 
up—all that company was still. Came he 
sailing down, down, out of the sky, without a 
word, all pearly-gray above the white below, 
except for his head, and that was the colour 
of the plough-land, and his feet, his dainty 
webbed feet, which he dropped as he settled, 
and they were pure coral. 
Every head was still up; every bird was 
still motionless, watching the scout, who 
was a black-headed gull, as he ran about, a 
