s and the tail was up. Hobson pulled up
to look at him for a minute. I got down and went to the wall, knowing
that it afforded perfect security. Black Jack came up slowly, as if he
meant no mischief. I leant over the wall, which was breast-high, and
poked fun at him. In an instant, like a flash of light, he came at me.
I saw his great claw over my head, and almost before I could jump back,
a couple of heavy stones were driven violently off the top of the wall.
To bolt and jump into the cart was almost an involuntary and
instantaneous impulse on my part, though there was no need for haste,
because the furious biped could not leap the wall.

"Yes," remarked my friend, with a quiet chuckle, as we drove along; "I
expected as much. Black Jack is in a bad humour to-day."

The farm of Jonathan lay at the side of the stream which watered that of
his brother. It was a pretty place. We drove through the stream to get
to the house. On entering we found Jonathan standing in his hall,
besprinkled with his own blood, and smiling. He was one of those tall,
thin, powerful sort of men, with genial good-humour wrinkling the
corners of their eyes, who seem to be ready to smile at everything,
pleasant or otherwise, that befalls them.

"Hallo! what's wrong, Jonathan?" asked his brother, with a touch of
tenderness in his tone.

"Nothing particular," replied the other; "I've just had a tussle with
one of my birds. He wriggled out of the stick and kicked me."

On more particular inquiry we found that Jonathan and his son--another
powerful six-footer--had gone that morning to search for eggs, which
they felt sure must have been laid somewhere about the enclosed field.
To keep the male bird in play while the search was being made, the
father took his forked stick, met the cock in single combat, clapped the
fork on his neck, and let him kick away. All might have gone well, for
the father, besides being strong, was accustomed to such work; but the
bird, instead of keeping up a straightforward assault, as it ought to
have done, turned its back to its foe, wriggled its neck, in some
inexplicable manner, out of the fork, and before it could be refixed had
given Jonathan several tremendous kicks. One of these nearly tore his
trousers to pieces, and another cut him across the right wrist into the
bone. This rendered his right arm powerless for the moment, and it
might have gone ill with him, had not his son, who was still in sight,
o