d the sparrow, "as
fresh, young corn in the ear, which you can just squeeze the juice out of
and then drop."

"And are you aware of the amount of damage which you do to the poor,
struggling farmer?" said I, assuming a judicial severity which I was far
from feeling.

The flippancy was infectious.

"A recent estimate places it at L770,094 per annum," said the sparrow.
"Just think of that!"

"In this country alone," said I. "You seem to forget America, Australia,
South Africa, and all the other places to which you have been unhappily
introduced as an insecticide."

"You seem to forget," he retorted, "that it was you yourselves who made
the introduction. You tried to improve on the natural balance which was
ordained for this string of countries, and a pretty mess you have made of
it. Now you want to crown your folly of introducing the sparrow where
Nature said it was not wanted, by exterminating it where Nature says it is
wanted--and that's here."

"I don't think any one has suggested that you should be exterminated,"
said I.

"'To lessen their numbers in our country, every possible means must be had
recourse to.' There's a pretty piece of grammar for you."

He was obviously quoting again.

"You couldn't exterminate me if you tried, and, therefore, you very
properly don't suggest it. I have been called the Avian Rat, and I _am_
the Avian Rat. You can no more get rid of me than you can of my
four-footed counterpart. It would be a bad day for you if you could."

"But you must admit that both you and the rat are increasing in numbers,
and, therefore, in destructiveness. What is to be the end of it?"

"The end of it will be that you will preserve our enemies instead of
shooting them at sight."

"Meaning?"

"Hawks, owls, weasels, and so on."

"But hawks would never come near the towns?"

"We aren't in town the whole year round. Even the cockneyest of sparrows
has his month or two in the cornfields. I don't mind telling you that one
of the reasons we have for clinging to human habitations is that we are
thus sure of sanctuary. Our natural enemies will always be welcomed with a
gun. They know that, too, and keep away. Make it an offence to kill a bird
or beast of prey, and you will see a difference in the rats and
sparrows."

"What about the pheasants?" said I.

"There would be fewer pheasants," said the sparrow; "and, if you only knew
it, they would taste better, if there were."

[Illustration: YOU HAVE B