OUR HOME BIRDS. 
11 
ularly favorable day for kite-flying, but presently the 
governess heard a great commotion outside, in which 
she plainly distinguished the voice of Malcolm and 
that of Patrick the gardener. 
They approached the house, and there was evi- 
dently a scuffle going on. 
“ Put me down, I say!” cried the boy, angrily. 
“ Put me down this instant !” 
“ Sorra a bit of it, me jewel !” replied Patrick, who 
was exasperatingly calm. “ Such a foine burd as ye 
are must go straight to the young leddy. It’s plased 
with ye she’ll be, to be sure. Arrah ! stop kicking, 
will ye ? and be aisy, now !” 
Miss Harson and her tw T o little pupils ran out on 
the veranda to encounter a very funny sight. 
“Here is a quare burd that I’m afther bringing 
ye, miss,” said Patrick, with a flourish. “ He’d 
dropped, in a heap, like, on the strawberry-bed.” 
The bird was kicking in a most alarming manner, 
and looked very much like a boy with two great kite- 
like wings attached to his shoulders. His face was 
red with anger and mortification as Patrick deposited 
him on his feet before the young lady, who found it 
quite impossible to keep from smiling. 
“ Why, Malcolm !” she exclaimed, u what does this 
mean?” while Clara and Edith stared in astonish- 
ment. 
