WILD LIFE ON THE WING 
with a swoof he dashed across the garden into 
the wood. 
" Oh Christians ! " quoth Mrs. Maguire, and 
dropped her pot. Shacaim did 
not realize at first that he was 
saved, and how. He lay on 
the doorstep and gasped, and 
even when she put out a skinny 
finger and touched him, he 
was too exhausted to move. 
"Ah now," said Mrs. Maguire, 
" 'tis a shacaim-thrush." For 
very long ago when she had been 
young, Mrs. Maguire had lived 
in the Co. Cork, and the old 
names lingered in her memory. 
A gaunt hen limped near and 
eyed him inquisitively, medi- 
tating a peck. "G'out," 
snapped Mrs. Maguire unex- 
pectedly, and the hen departed surprised. 
" Musha, he's kilt ! " murmured Mrs. Maguire 
sympathetically, and thrust a potato paring 
under his bill. Shacaim, recovering his wits, 
hirpled slowly back to the hedge. 
"Musha now," said Mrs. Maguire, watching 
him ; " an him not to ask to fly ! " 
After that, morning by morning, she kept the 
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