DESERTED HOMES. 161 



the fragments of the nest and birds, and put them 

 in our handkerchiefs. I put the gun under my 

 arm, gave the fragments to my companion to carry, 

 and marched down to give our relative the gun to 

 put back inside the clock-case. He did look over 

 the accident after a time, for he was a kindly 

 man, but it was long before either of us ventured 

 very close to him. 



A fresh breeze covers the pure spring- waters of a 

 mere with dancing ripples, just enough to make the 

 broken and decayed sedge-blades, dotted here and 

 there, tremble and sway a little. Large heaps show 

 above the surface, looking like sheaves of decayed 

 sedges that had grown there and withered down 

 to their blade-stems. This is exactly what they 

 look like ; but they are the deserted homes of 

 certain coots. I visit this mere at particular 

 seasons, just to see how the fowl are getting on. 

 The owner of the land has given strict orders that 

 the fowl are not to be molested in any way, and 

 no pinioned birds are here ; the mere is simply 

 tenanted by pure wild-fowl that come and go as 

 they please. We have only missed them when 

 the mere was covered with ice, and skating was 



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