OUR HOME BIRDS. 
175 
“ look at that, will you ? It’s just died out of sheer 
spite !” 
“ Poor little wee birdie !” said Miss Harson as she 
carefully disengaged it from the net ; “ it has been so 
frightened. It may not be quite dead.” 
Scarcely had these words been uttered when the 
small prisoner spread his wings and was off like a 
flash, to the intense amazement of the little group 
around him. 
Malcolm sat down disgusted on a step of the 
veranda. “ It’s rather crushing,” said he presently, 
“ to be fooled by a humming-bird !” 
Miss Harson could not help laughing at his injured 
tone : “ That is an old trick, Malcolm, of Mr. ‘ Lock- 
of-the-Sun,’ as the Indians call him, and the only 
defence the poor little fellow has against such for- 
midable enemies as yourself. But he certainly did 
that very well ; he took us all in. You look warm 
and tired; how many butterfles did you catch?” 
“Just enough to keep the humming-birds in 
countenance,” was the stoical reply. 
“Won’t you tell us about humming-birds, Miss 
Harson ?” asked the little girls, who had been quite 
speechless from astonishment. 
“ If Malcolm does not dislike the subject too 
much,” replied the governess, smiling. “ When 
you come to think of it, if your captive had not 
