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you! Why, of course, the Governor is the cat, the biggest and handsomest cat in all the world. Listen, I must tell you about him.

I had successfully made my way through the heavy tangle of grass stems that had impeded my advance towards the hill you see over there, my objective point, and I was about to step out into the first clearing of the rising ground when I felt the approach of something large. I say felt, for I could not see it as yet, but we crickets are keenly alive to such impressions. They are half our education, you know. The earliest and gentlest jar of the earth in our vicinity puts us on our guard. In this instance I had not long to wait. Concealing myself quickly, I looked cautiously around for the cause of the interruption. Then I saw him. He was splendid. He was enormous. Of course, he's not as large as you are, Man. But you are ungainly, you know. You are too big. No, he's just right. He has a beautiful white coat, brightly marked here and there with large yellow patches and his tail is banded with delightful yellow rings. He always carries himself proudly, I tell you, and at the moment when I saw him first he was a picture. Somewhere over there in the elm tree was one of those orioles. They are mean creatures, of course, and they make a great racket at times. This one, a male, I could see by his flaming colors, was roaring away to his mate as he balanced his silly body on a little limb. He made such a sight of himself that the Governor could not fail to notice him and feel angry. I could understand his feelings perfectly. He had been walking along in his usual quiet way, I suppose, swinging his great tail from side to side at intervals as he generally does. However, at the moment when my eye lighted on him he raised his head slightly and saw the bird. Thereupon his whole aspect changed. His body, till then

gracefully pliant, now stiffened. He crouched slightly, while his tail lashed out right and left and his great yellow eyes glared with righteous anger at this noisy disturber. If a glance could have killed, the oriole would have died right then. As it was, when the Governor's hairy under-jaw began to tremble violently, while his whiskers bristled and his lips drew back from his teeth in a terrible grin of rage, the stupid fool up there felt it and immediately ceased his outcry and shifted his position uneasily. Oh, it was fine to see it all! It was grand. The Governor was so near to me that I could gather every detail plainly. I could even see the glitter of the tiny dew-drops against the fur of his huge legs, or note how his pads crushed down the clovers, while his claws played in and out of their sheathes. Not seeing me indeed, I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance, nor did I attempt to introduce myself-he did not linger after the bird flew away. He gave himself a slight shake, then rising to his full height once more, he went striding away to attend to his duties and was soon lost to view in the green depths of the tomato forest.

It

And now I was more than ready for my bath. It is true, my little walk had not been uneventful by any means. Nevertheless, I was still more or less chilled by the dew, and I longed for the sun. did not take me long, therefore, to climb up to my favorite spot and stretch myself out where the sun's rays are warmest. You see, this hill-a rose-bush grew here once, but it died, you know, nor has the grass grown out yet-this hill is all bare on top. There are delightful clods of dry earth there, and being in line with the flood of sunshine through that big opening in the grape-vines, it is the pleasantest spot in the garden in the early morning. On this occasion I found it

doubly comforting. I was not quite ready to breakfast as yet, and so now I gladly devoted myself to the pleasures of the toilet. The delight of that first kiss of the sun on my cold body lingers with me yet. I was wet through. The corrugated, brown gauze of my wings and the two hairy spikes that I carry behind me were beaded with dew, and at first I fairly drank in the warmth. When I felt more like myself, my first act was to carefully wash my two antennae. This is a sacred duty always among the cricket folk. These feelers are to us what your own clumsy hands are to you. We never neglect them. I therefore drew each in turn, carefully and slowly through my mouth, biting every tiny bead-like joint as it passed and getting it scrupulously clean. Then, to test them, I threw a gentle wave-like motion into each feeler as I extended it to touch, one after the other, every object within. reach. Sensation was perfect. I was happy.

Then, what a satisfaction it was to sit there in that refreshing sunshine, simply resting and enjoying myself. Never have I seen a finer morning. My walk had occupied so much time that by now the air had gained in warmth, and the little people everywhere were awakening to their accustomed duties. Over the heads of the clover trees, among whose stems I had but lately wound my way so slowly and which now stretched panorama-like at my feet, I could see the young gnats beginning their wheeling dance in the effort to dry their new found wings. And, rising near at hand, the honey-suckle mountain also had its visitors. Here, attracted by its treasures of sweetness, two greedy bumble-bees disputed possession with a shrewish humming-bird, while a pair of blood-sucking flies, their heads turned as nearly as possible constantly in one direction, maintained a a monotonous, jerky

and angular waltz between two projecting sprays of the vine. Yes, all was peaceful and satisfactory with one exception. Those miserable birds-ah, what a fuss they were making. They interrupted, they even put an end to my observations. Their noisy clamor forced itself into my thoughts and compelled attention for reasons of self-preservation. It certainly seems strange why such things should be; why, indeed, such creatures should even be allowed to exist. I confess I cannot understand it. In this instance, I had never heard the tribe more noisy, more blatant and selfassertive. It half ruined my peace of mind after a time; for, watchful and self-reliant as I am, to expose one's self thus in the open is never without an element of danger where they are concerned. They seemed to be on all sides of me, some plainly visible, others hidden away in the foliage; and their noisy reiterations filled me with disgust. I could recognize among others the yellow-hammer's bubbling cry as it rose and fell, echoing from some point far away. I readily distinguished, somewhat nearer at hand, the insinuating, purring voice of the rain-crow, predicting in monotone the near approach of a thundershower. While in While in the Virginia creeper around your bed-room windows at the house, a dozen noisy sparrows quarreled loud enough, it seemed, to have awakened you many times over. This was all bad enough -this together with the twittering. of swift-darting swallows against the blue of the sky, the beseeching call of a half-grown black-bird summoning its mother, or the frequent booming cry of a big rooster from another garden-all this was disquieting, but it was as nothing to the pest of robins. They turned me cold again as I listened; they seemed to be everywhere.

Suddenly, a louder burst usual drew my attention.

than

Look,

from where we sit, you can readily see the quince tree, can't you? And you note that it is a small distance from my bathing place to that tree, don't you? Well, there it was that the fellow had taken his stand. I could see him plainly. What vain things they are-as if any one cared a grass-stem about them or would ever look at them except for purposes of self-protection. And yet, this red-breasted beau had set himself on the very topmost twig of that tree, for all the world to gaze at, and was fairly bursting his throat in an effort to sing a silly and commonplace song. I am a widower, you know. I married, of course, last summer as fair a wife, too, as you ever saw, larger of body than I am, and brave in her threespiked train; but I lost her during an early November frost, nor have I cared to take another as yet. The opposite sex is all right, I suppose, but they have their limitations, and after all it is better to be free and independent. Now, this chap up there was making an absolute fool of himself. I understand their language somewhat. Picture the contempt I felt for him, therefore, when I gathered the burden of his song: "Here am I, Here am I, Love, Love -Sweet, I love her." And so on, over and over again, the stupidest, the most untruthful statement that was ever uttered. Oh, I tell you, it disgusted me thoroughly, this shouting of private matters from a treetop! I gazed at him, thinking how idiotic he looked up there, this lovesick fool, when for the first time I remarked something peculiar in his appearance. The bird did not look natural; he was deformed. Several of the large feathers in the right wing drooped perceptibly. Moreover, the idea seemed familiar to me. But how? I knew that I'd never seen him before. I pledge you my word, for the moment I was completely puzzled. I could not catch the connection. Then, like a

flash, it came to me.. "The most detestable robin of them all," I quoted involuntarily, and my interview with the spider recurred to me. This unquestionably was the notorious Draggle Wing.

Suddenly, as I watched him, his din ceased. There was the briefest interval of absolute silence-for which nevertheless I was grateful— whereupon with with abruptness he wheeled about in a different direction and vehemently shouted: "You you-Put! Put! Put! Put! Put!" This is one of the warning signals of the tribe; evidently, from his point of view, danger lurked somewhere at hand. From here, as you see plainly, the distance from my point of observation to the rank growth of the tomato plantation is considerable, say times the

length of my own body, or, as you would express it, about 20 feet. Something in this vicinity evidently had caught his eye; at first I could not determine what. Then as I searched closely in every direction thereabouts, my eye seemed to catch some slight movement. There, deep in the heart of one of the tomato trees and well concealed by the yellowing fruit and the dense foliage, I thought I saw the twinkle of a pointed, yellow ear. Again I caught the movement. Yes, I was right. In spite of himself, the mosquitoes were at work, and the Governor, watchful and cunning as he is, had betrayed his hiding place.

For just a little while the fine fellow sat there motionless, watching intently as I could see. No movement of the bird seemed to escape him. At length, when he saw himself discovered beyond a doubt, he did a wonderful thing. Without any warning, he seemed to melt away into the green around him, nor could the eye follow him to his new hiding place. He was gone. Draggle Wing looked the picture of surprise. I could see that he tried to locate the Governor anew; but

the effort was wholly vain. The robin's warning cry continued, however, for some time longer longer while he twisted and turned about on his perch uneasily. Then he grew less noisy and at last merely cried: "Sweet!" or "Weak! Weak! Weak!" at intervals, and in a wondering way, as though he did not quite understand the matter.

Finally even this ceased. He was silent. Instead, he began to preen and beautify the feathers of his breast. Then I was guilty of one of those indiscretions we all fall into sometimes. I was hasty. I should have known better. I should have remembered the wretch's evil reputation in the garden for cruelty and keenness. In a word, I should have been more cautious. Instead, I was rashness itself. I can only say that I was sick and tired of watching and hearing him; moreover, I wanted my breakfast. A poor excuse, you say? Yes, you're right. Hardly an excuse at all. And yet, this is what I did. Down that bare hillside, where the vivid darkness of my coat showed plainly against the light-colored earth, I began my descent. Foolhardy in the extreme it was. What I should have done, of course, was to have hidden myself up there and waited. These robins are always hungry. Five minutes at most would have seen this Draggle Wing off on his everlasting hunt for earth worms, and I could have come down at my leisure and in safety. As it was, he saw me just as soon as I made my first move. Instantly his feathers were shaken. into place; his beak went forward. sharply, and his head tipped on one side as he regarded me closely. Thus he stood while I took my first few steps downward. Then, with a sud-' denness and intensity that was horrible, he yelled: "Seek! Seek! Seek!" and hurled himself straight at me. On the instant I felt the wind of his powerful wings. He dropped to the ground. He was beside me.

Death seemed certain. He struck at me savagely with his terrible beak. The stroke grazed my body. It stirred me to action. I leaped as I had never leaped before, in a perfect frenzy of haste and terror, my enemy after me. Spring after spring I made, each large as the character of the ground permitted,, all many times my own length. I outfooted him. I won. My last, my most desperate effort landed me fairly amid the clover tops. Instantly I dropped to the ground again and began a rapid search for a hiding place. Fortune favored me. I found it. A few steps beyond where I had landed I saw a fair-sized plantin leaf. Here was my chance. To this I rushed, and as the eager wretch behind me came lumbering up, treading down the growth around him as he moved, I disappeared from sight into temporary safety. All was well for the moment-but would he find me? I

feared so. If he did, I could guess

the fate in store for me. To elude him a second time seemed impos sible.

From this haven of refuge he was still visible. He had stopped only a short distance away, and as I watched him, he stood there absolutely motionless, listening-after the manner of his kind-for my slightest movement. I plainly saw the flash of his dark eye and I readily counted the feathers out of place. in the deformed wing. Every detail, in fact, of his detested personality was clearly before me. Finally he moved again; this time he gave three clumsy hops-all in my direction. But now he had come desperately near. I feared the worst. Again he paused, motionless as before, head erect, tail sweeping the ground. He was searching for me. Through a worm-hole in my green. roof I continued to see him clearly. Two more steps-now he was actually standing beside my hiding place. I could have touched his horny toes with my antennae. Then,

I think he suspected my presence. Suddenly his attitude changed. His knees crooked perceptibly, so that he squatted towards the earth; his back, neck and tail grew into one rigid, straight line, and his head inclined forward and downward. He was gazing beneath the leaf. He saw me. I was lost. I made a feeble effort at escape. Too late. Instantly he drew back his dreadful beak to strike, to engulf me. In that second fate overtook him. The whole situation altered. There was a curious rushing sound from the direction of the tomato plantation; the ground thrilled under my feet at the passage of a heavy body; I saw a flash of white and yellow above me, and then Draggle Wing went down to death amid the clover stems, crushed under the paws of the Governor. I was saved after all.

The rest is soon told. It happened quickly. Twice my enemy struggled

to free himself from those unyielding jaws that gripped him so tightly; one feeble cry he raised, which summoned his tribe in numbers from everywhere, so that the air about us was filled with shoutings and the beat of many wings. Then his eyes glazed; his head drooped. He was dead. For a moment the Governor held him, then dropping the body in front of him in the grass, he held it with his right paw, while he looked defiance at the noisy crew above his head. He was superb! His eyes flashed, his ringed tail swept from side to side, and he growled warningly. They knew him, knew better than to come too near!

A moment he stood thus, while the clamor grew. the clamor grew. Then, Draggle Wing's body in his mouth once more, he marched proudly away, drew near to the fence over there, passed through the opening you see, and vanished from my sight. The cricket people were avenged!

WHEN THE BOGER-MAN IS OUT

BY ELIZABETH VORE.

Mammy cayn't let yo', my lil honey-pet,
Dey's no use to murmur, dey's no use to fret,
Lil pickaninnies cayn' go out in de wet-

When de wind an' de rain am beatin' on de pane,
Den's when de boger-man am walkin' in de lane.

Dey's somet'ing bakin' in de pan foh a surprise,
So set by de fiah an' wipe yo' shinin' eyes,
Mammy's heart mos' bre'k in two w'en huh baby cries
When de wind an' de rain am beatin' on de pane-
Den's when de boger-man am walkin' in de lane.

Heah de kettle singin', watch de sparks a-flyin',
Smell de sweet-a-tatahs an' de bacon fryin',
Heah's a piece of hoe-cake; dah now, stop yo' cryin'-
When de wind an' de rain am beatin' on de pane,
Den's when de boger-man am walkin' in de lane.

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