THE PEREGRINE FALCON 
When they had gone he sat in dogged silence 
and nursed his hatred of them. 
Yet he did not die. "The eagle's takin' his 
food all right," said Seumas Skerritt ; but lolar 
only ate that he might live, and only lived 
that he might see the western cliffs again. 
" When we have him tamed, we'll cut the 
wings of him, and see would he keep down the 
mice in the yard," said Seumas Skerritt, after 
New Year's Day ; but lolar still screamed and 
struck at the hand which fed him. Man had 
betrayed him once and would betray him again. 
The only time he showed any interest other 
than fear in his surroundings, was when the 
daws surviving mates of that Cud6g whose 
back he had broken came furtively to peck 
among the rubbish in the yard. Then the 
fierceness came back to his eyes as he watched 
them, but they fed with one eye upon the 
open house-door, and had no time to bait him 
now. Even when he beat upon the bars in his 
efforts to reach them, they only sidled away 
intent on their foraging. 
The frost gave way to rain. The fowls 
paddled up to the ankles in the mud of the 
yard. The child played at marbles on the 
doorstep instead of making dust pies in the 
rubbish with the hens. On wet nights the 
rain splashed and beat into the cage of lolar 
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