134 BIRDS AND POETS 



ting her grief long enough to eat her meal, and 

 entirely neglecting her beloved husks. Often in the 

 middle of the night she would set up that sonorous 

 lamentation, and continue it till sleep was chased 

 from every eye in the household. This generally 

 had the efifect of bringing the object of her affection 

 before her, but in a mood anything but filial or com- 

 forting. Still, at such times a kick seemed a com- 

 fort to her, and she would gladly have kissed the 

 rod that was the instrument of my midnight wrath. 



But her tender star was destined soon to a fatal 

 eclipse. Being tied with too long a rope on one 

 occasion during my temporary absence, she got her 

 head into the meal-barrel, and stopped not till she 

 had devoured nearly half a bushel of dry meal. The 

 singularly placid and benevolent look that beamed 

 from the meal-besmeared face when I discovered 

 her was something to be remembered. For the first 

 time, also, her spinal column came near assuming a 

 horizontal line. 



But the grist proved too much for her frail miU, 

 and her demise took place on the third day, not of 

 course without some attempt to relieve her on my 

 part. I gave her, as is usual in such emergencies, 

 everything I "could think of," and everything my 

 neighbors could think of, besides some fearful pre- 

 scriptions which I obtained from a German veteri- 

 nary surgeon, but to no purpose. I imagined her 

 poor maw distended and inflamed with the baking 

 sodden mass which no physic could penetrate or 

 enliven. 



