'BY STREAxM AND RIVER' 



167 



It was a very pleasant fairyland through which 

 1 passed, but I never felt more like an uprooted 

 plant, so to speak, in my life. I had come to love 

 my cosy retreat behind those boards as I had never 

 loved any of my previous habitations, and a feeling 

 of security had grown upon me, which is the real 

 essence of a rat's happiness. 3Iany a bold deed I 

 performed during my wanderings, and one or two 

 of which, alas ! I am ashamed. Funny, isn't it ? 

 how a bold deed of your own doing makes you 

 happy and comfortable as soon as ever you have 

 done it, w^hile a shady action only begins to make 

 you feel cold and uncomfortable quite a long time 

 afterwards. I can remember so w^ell now how I 

 killed and ate some young reed warblers, though I 

 thought very little of it at the time. It was really 

 a brutal deed, for I cannot plead any bitter pangs 

 of hunger as an excuse. All I can say is that 

 there was some temporary provocation. 



I was passing quietly enough through a thick 

 bed of reeds, with willow stumps growing among 

 them at intervals. It was a jolly bit of country, 

 and I was basking in the cool green sunlight, and 

 listening to the warm wind as it rubbed the stems 

 of the reeds one against the other, make a noise 

 like ' ssh-ssh,' so that you felt as if you wanted to 



