attacks
and fights. But the blackbird had no play and no fight in him, no heart
to defend himself; all he did was to try to avoid the strokes aimed at
him, and he could not always escape them. His spiritlessness served to
inspire the chaffinch with greater boldness, and then it appeared that
the gay little creature was really and truly incensed, possibly because
the rusty, draggled, and listless appearance of the larger bird was
offensive to him. Anyhow, the persecutions continued, increasing in
fury until they could not be borne, and the blackbird tried to escape
by hiding in the bramble. But he was not permitted to rest there; out he
was soon driven and away into another bush, and again into still another
further away, and finally he was hunted over the sheltering wall into
the bleak wind on the other side. Then the persecutor came back and
settled himself on his old perch on the bramble, well satisfied at his
victory over a bird so much bigger than himself. All was again peace and
harmony in the little social gathering, and the pleasant talkee-talkee
went on as before. About five minutes passed, then the hunted blackbird
returned, and, going to the identical spot from which he had been
driven, composed himself to rest; only now he sat facing his lively
little enemy.

I was astonished to see him back; so, apparently, was the chaffinch. He
started, craned his neck, and regarded his adversary first with one eye
then with the other. "What, rags and tatters, back again so soon!" I
seem to hear him say. "You miserable travesty of a bird, scarcely fit
for a weasel to dine on! Your presence is an insult to us, but I'll soon
settle you. You'll feel the cold on the other, side of the wall when
I've knocked off a few more of your rusty rags."

Down from his perch he came, but no sooner had he touched his feet to
the ground than the blackbird went straight at him with extraordinary
fury. The chaffinch, taken by surprise, was buffeted and knocked over,
then, recovering himself, fled in consternation, hotly pursued by the
sick one. Into the bush they went, but in a moment they were out again,
darting this way and that, now high up in the trees, now down to the
ground, the blackbird always close behind; and no little bird flying
from a hawk could have exhibited a greater terror than that pert
chaffinch--that vivacious and most pugnacious little cock bantam.
At last they went quite away, and were lost to sight. By and by the
blac