n: AN OLD CROW'S EYE DOTH MISCHIEF SPY.]

The next day, as the picture shows,
The farmers met to shoot the Crows--
Their rustling underneath the trees
The young ones thought was but the breeze;
But an old Crow's experienced eye
Discovered soon their enemy;
Whose purpose was not left in doubt,
For, uttering a murderous shout,
The shooters levelled each his gun--
Bang! Bang! the slaughter is begun.

[Illustration: THE FARMER'S GUN THE WORK HATH DONE.]

Bang! Bang! again for every ball
Wounded or dead the young Crows fall;
The old Crows wheeling in the skies
Helpless behold their agonies,
And, piteous cawing up on high,
Answer their young ones dying cry--
Who fall, poor little suffering things,
With broken legs and wounded wings.

[Illustration: AT DAY'S DECLINE THE MOON DOTH SHINE.]

At last the sun begins to sink,
And soon is on the very brink
Of setting in the quiet sea;
The ploughing horses leave the lea,
The weary workman homeward goes
Thinking of supper and repose;
And darkness closes o'er the scene,
Where late the murderous sport had been:
The moon, with pale and pitying looks,
Shines on the slaughter-field of rooks:
The owlets hoot, from ivy bower,
In the grey embattled tower--
"Tuwit, tuwit, towhoo!" they say,
And echoing through the ruins grey,
The sound disturbs the daily sleep
Of bats who dwell in dungeon keep,
Who 'mong the ruins nightly flit,
And under aged arches sit.

[Illustration: HOME RETURNING AT THE GLOAMING.]

The farmers can no longer mark
The Crows among the branches dark:
Now let us homeward go, they say;
And gathering up their slaughtered prey,
His share each one in bundles ties,
And takes them home to make crow pies.

[Illustration: THE CROWS FLY AWAY BUT RETURN THE NEXT DAY.]

Of Crows who were not shot, the few
Far to the distant mountains flew,
But found not there the expected rest:
A longing seized them for their nest,
"CAW! CAW!" with one accord they cry,
"Let us directly homeward fly."

So in undeviating track,
Like column huge of dotted black,
Straightway their course they homeward bent,
And meditating as they went--
"CAW! CAW!" they say, "How well we know
There is no joy unmixed with woe."

[Illustration]

THE
ENGLISH STRUWWELPETER
OR
PRETTY STORIES
AND
FUNNY PICTURES.

When the children have been good