uldn't have been quite so frightened. The
gardener has tried that old trick upon me and mine so often that I'm
quite accustomed to it. Why, it's not a gardener at all--it's a rickety
old Scare-crow! However," he added, as he saw the Blackbird look rather
ashamed and crestfallen, "I was quite taken in myself at first; but one
day I happened to be passing the orchard just as a gale of wind was
blowing, and saw the Scare-crow topple over. Since that day I've never
been afraid of scare-crows, although there's an old farmer near here who
puts most frightful-looking ones in his corn fields, worse than any I've
ever seen anywhere else. It's of no use, however, we don't care a bit
for them. They must find out something much more terrible than
scare-crows if they want to frighten the crows or us."

It must be confessed that the Blackbird never had the moral courage to
acknowledge how completely he had been taken in, and it was only
gradually that his young ones found out that after all the scare-crow
was not the dreaded gardener, but only some very shabby old clothes
arranged on a stupid pole or two.

It was about this time that the Blackbird haunted the neighbourhood of a
certain lane, where the bramble blossoms had been succeeded by the
wild-fruits of autumn. The blackberries were abundant, and it was not
the Blackbird only who found this lane, with its high hedgerows, an
attractive spot. Little Willie would sometimes persuade his unwilling
nurse to take that lane on their way home, "just for a treat, you know;"
and while the nurserymaid, followed by Mrs. Barlow, pushed Alice in her
perambulator, Willie would linger far behind, making many overt attacks
upon the blackberries, thereby tearing his clothes and staining his lips
and fingers.

One day the Blackbird was much amused at a scene which took place in the
lane between Mrs. Barlow and her young charges. The nurserymaid had been
left at home, Nanny was alone with them, Willie had lagged far behind,
and had stuffed his mouth, and then with some difficulty all his
pockets, full of ripe blackberries. Of course Nanny knew nothing of
this; she was rather exhausted, and had stopped for a moment,
perambulator in hand, to speak to a friend.

This was an opportunity not to be lost. Willie ran up with one of his
small hands full of the juicy berries, they were so good he _must_ give
some to Alice. The delighted little girl opened wide her rosy mouth to
receive the fruit. The crus