FEATHERED RATS. 
yo hot it was down by the pool. The 
very ground seemed literally to radiate 
heat. The view over the dazzling estuary 
danced with heat. And for once the tall, 
harsh, sword-like rushes were silent. If there 
is the least breeze they simply must speak. 
Even the birds were quiet, and for the most 
part hidden ; one could imagine them as gasp- 
ing in the shade. Only the pigeons and the 
gentle turtle-doves were on the move. They 
came dropping down to the pond every few 
minutes, as if they found that seeds were 
thirsty food this weather. A single dragon- 
fly, green as new grass, with wings like 
mother-of-pearl shavings and ruby eyes, gadded 
about up and down over the water, hunting 
the innumerable gauzy, brilliant, metallic- 
hued flies that filled the air with a ceaseless, 
tired hum. 
Then all at once it was as if a rat had 
crept out of the rushes and stood still. So 
quietly had it sneaked out there that one was 
at a loss to say exactly when it had come. 
It might have been there some time. It 
turned and moved away from the longer grass 
into the open, and, lo! there was no rat there 
