ct a guide at home, I should have become as bold and
shameless as they. Fortunately for me, I discovered their real character
before they had succeeded in ruining mine; and as the circumstance
caused a final break between us, I will relate it just as it fell out.

At the distance of an easy walk from the city of Caneville was the
residence of a very wealthy bloodhound, who was as proud of his noble
descent as he was of his riches and influence. The grounds attached
to his splendid mansion were very extensive and beautiful, and one
portion, which contained some tall trees and low bushes, was called
the "preserve," because birds of all kinds had their nests among the
branches. In order to guard this property from thieves and intruders,
several fierce dogs paraded about the grounds, and, as they had orders
to kill all animals that were discovered lurking there, you may believe
the place was tolerably quiet. All these particulars I only learned
afterwards, when I had nearly fallen a victim to my folly; but I knew
perfectly well that this ground was private property, and that I had
no business whatsoever to go into it.

My three friends and myself, being out one day upon an excursion, such
as I have described, I, having slipped away from home, as usual, on the
sly, with only a little pinafore for clothing, came upon these beautiful
grounds, and having crossed a park, where we rolled upon the green turf
undisturbed, we at last stood in the "preserve."

[Illustration: AN UNWELCOME VISITOR.]

Here we were at once attracted by the quantities of birds which flew
from branch to branch above our heads, and twittered gaily in the
fancied security of their leafy homes. We looked, and sniffed, and
watched them as they flew, until our mouths watered at the sight. Having
eaten nothing since morning, our appetites were very keen, and the
thought of a little poultry was not by any means a disagreeable one. But
how was it to be procured? My friends, bold as they seemed, had a great
objection to climb one of the trees to hunt for it; and I, although
sufficiently strong and active to mount to the very highest in the
course of a few seconds, had just sufficient sense of propriety left to
feel that it would be wrong. What, however, will not the persuasions of
the wicked sometimes do? Although I knew perfectly well that it was a
great sin, that the birds were not mine, and that I had not only no
right to them, but no right either to be withi