"Good morning, young master. Yes, it is a fine day, but it will be finer to-morrow. Yon robin sings higher in the poplar this afternoon than he did this morning, and that is a sure sign that finer weather is coming."
"I never knew that before," said Frank.
"No, you have not lived so long in the world as I have," replied Bell; "but I am glad you have come, for I have a very strange sight to show you. Look here."
He went into the cottage, and returned, bringing with him a dry and withered branch, one end of which had been torn and slit, probably by the wind, so that it was a sharp and jagged spike. On the end of this was impaled a fine woodcock, dead of course, and with the sharp piece of wood imbedded in its breast.
"Poor thing, how did it get into that fix?" Jimmy exclaimed.
"Well, sir, you see it was in this way. The birds, as you know, are now coming from abroad—I can hear great flocks of them at night sometimes as they fly overhead calling to one another—and last night you know was pitch dark, so that this woodcock, coming over at a great speed, flew against this sharp branch in the dark and spiked itself. When I got up this morning I saw it in that oak-tree, and I sent my boy up to cut off the branch, and knowing you would like to have it, I kept it, just as it was."
"We are very much obliged to you, Bell, and we will mount it and stuff it, just as it is. It will be an interesting thing to add to our museum, won't it, Jimmy?"
"I have often heard of birds flying against the telegraph wires and being killed in the dark, and of their dashing against windows, either attracted by the light, or not seeing the glass, but I have not heard of anything so curious as this. One cannot help feeling sorry for the poor bird. After a long and tiring journey, and expecting to find all its troubles over, to meet with a sad end like this!"
