WILD LIFE ON THE WING 
of the door and the ground. Three rats went 
in on the first night, and only six chickens came 
out in the morning. Next evening the rats 
sent round the Fiery Cross and went again in 
force. She was a good mother the Yellow 
Hen, but she had her limitations. In the 
morning she was found huddled up in the 
corner with a red beak, and her breast feathers 
littering the floor. It is true that a young rat 
with a bloody snout lay dead beside her, but 
the chickens were all gone. Mrs. Maguire 
lamented very much, and the Yellow Hen 
moped till next feeding-time, but it was too 
late then. 
That was how the bank-rats learned that warm 
meat was good, and feathered meat particu- 
larly so. Mrs. Maguire might never again 
leave chickens outside her cottage at night. 
But the rats did not forget. Hitherto it had 
been only an odd one who crept past the house 
to the wood. Now they came nightly to the 
outhouse door, and as a matter of course made 
further explorations up the hedge. The 
throstle's nest in the ivy, though it was built so 
high that Mrs. Maguire herself must have tip- 
toed to peer in, was robbed one night. Shacaim, 
in his subterranean dormitory, heard the 
frightened bird flutter " chink-chinking " away, 
as the marauders clambered noisily up the 
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