o bathe in the brook, and he
glanced round with a bold and defiant air, as much as to say: "There
is not one of you who has so yellow a bill, and so beautiful a black
coat as I have." In the bush the bullfinch, who did not care much to
mix with the crowd, moved restlessly to and fro. The robin looked all
the time at Bevis, so anxious was he for admiration. The wood-pigeon,
very consequential, affected not to see the dove, whom Bevis longed to
stroke, but could not, as he had promised the reed to keep still.

Bevis looked up into the sky, and there was the hawk, almost up among
the white clouds, soaring round and round, and watching all that was
proceeding. Almost before he could look down again a shadow went by,
and a cuckoo flew along very low, just over the drinking place.

"Cuckoo!" he cried, "cuckoo! The goldfinch has the prettiest dress;"
and off he went.

Now the hawk had bribed the cuckoo, who was his cousin, to do this,
and the cuckoo was not at all unwilling, for he had an interest
himself in keeping the birds divided, so he said that although he had
made up his mind to go on his summer tour, leaving his children to be
taken care of by the wagtail, he would stop a day or two longer to
manage this little business. No sooner had the cuckoo said this, than
there was a most terrible uproar, and all the birds cried out at once.
The blackbird was so disgusted that he flew straight off, chattering
all across the field and up the hedge. The bullfinch tossed his head,
and asked the goldfinch to come up in the bush and see which was
stronger. The greenfinch and the chaffinch shrieked with derision; the
wood-pigeon turned his back and said "Pooh!" and went off with a
clatter. The sparrow flew to tell his mates on the house, and you
could hear the chatter they made about it right down at the brook.
But the wren screamed loudest of all, and said that the goldfinch was
a painted impostor, and had not got half so much gold as the
yellow-hammer. So they were all scattered in a minute, and Bevis stood
up and hurried homeward.

[Illustration]

THE LOON

(FROM WALDEN.)

BY HENRY D. THOREAU.

[Illustration]

It is remarkable how many creatures live wild and free, though secret,
in the woods, and still sustain themselves in the neighborhood of
towns, suspected by hunters only. How retired the otter manages to
live here! He grows to be four feet long, as big as a small boy,
perhaps without any human being gettin