ther naturalist,
every facility for studying the birds in their haunts, but I cannot
(knowing as I do so well the mind of my late father in this matter)
permit innocent creatures to be disturbed and distressed as they have
been of late. You know the circumstances to which I allude.

"I do wish (as my father so long wished) that you would meet me and
have a friendly talk, when I have no doubt we could smooth this
matter--I mean your grievance regarding Havnholme. It seems so
unneighbourly, not to say unchristian, to keep up a quarrel from
generation to generation.

"Pardon me if it seems presumptuous of a young fellow like me to write
thus to you; but I feel as it I were only the medium through which my
good noble father were making his wishes known. If you will allow me,
I will call upon you at some early time.--Yours sincerely, FRED GARSON."

"It's a very decent letter," said Yaspard, "and everybody who knows the
young Laird says he is a brick; but I know how Uncle Brues would flare
up over this. One has only to utter 'holme' or 'Lunda' in uncle's
hearing if one wants to bring the whole feud about one's ears."

Here Signy put in her soft little voice. "But it really was a shame
about the birds, Yaspard. You said so, you know; and oh, I have dreamt
about them ever so often, poor things!"

"That's true. Still, uncle persists that the holme is his property;
and the Lairds of Lunda have always got the name of land-grabbers."

Miss Osla looked up at the boy with a kind of terror in her eyes. "O
Yaspard," she cried, "don't you begin that way too. Don't you believe
all that's told you. Don't you take up that miserable, wicked--yes,
wicked--quarrel."

"Easy, easy, Aunt Osla! I haven't dug up the hatchet yet. But can you
tell me what was the true origin of that affair?"

"I don't believe anybody ever knew what it began about, or why. The
Garsons and Adiesens were born quarrelling with one another, I think."

"But surely you know about the particular part of the family feud which
had to do with Havnholme?"

"Even _that_ began before I was born, and it was about some land that
was exchanged. Your great-grandfather wanted all this island to
himself, and he offered the Laird of Lunda some small outlying islands
instead of the piece of Boden which belonged to _him_. Mr. Garson
agreed, so they 'turned turf'[1] and settled the bargain; and a body
would have thought that was enough. But no! By-and-by they