THE MIGHTY DREAD. 217 
himself looking at a little bird, blue-gray above, 
and pale yellow below water-line, so to speak, 
with a black satin skull-cap atop, and spotless, 
I had almost said bright, white cheeks. It 
was one of those cheeks the mouse had seen 
jerking, as its owner hammered out one of the 
last of the seeds which the late tenants used 
_to put out on the ‘bird table’ every day. 
The bird was a great tit—great only among 
a family of dwarfs—officially, Parus major. 
Now there was nothing about that gray 
little bird to suggest that he was less easily 
frightened than any other little bird—nothing, 
that is, in his size, but his black satin skull-cap 
did certainly give him a warning suggestion 
of a scowl. 
The mouse did not think this, however. 
He hopped out. He appropriated the five 
remaining ‘canary-seeds.’ He _ insolently 
showed his teeth to the great tit, shark 
fashion, as the mouse and rat tribe have 
to do. There followed a flash of silver as 
the bird opened his wings, and the mouse 
was alone, cracking seeds. 
Ten seconds later the mouse was not alone, 
not by any means, and he felt as if it was his 
head that was being cracked, and not the 
seeds at all. He spun like a top, and looked 
up in time to see a silver streak of the tit’s 
3. W. oO 
