At last I began to be frightened, and called out:—“Maurice, dear Maurice, where are you? You are frightening me.” The tapping ceased from that moment, but my alarm did not. That such a noise should have been made without anybody to make it seemed to me very like something supernatural. I began to cry, and at the same time set off running towards home. I dared not look behind me as I ran, and when I reached the house, was at first too frightened and excited even to explain what was the matter. I must tell you that I was only seven years old at that time.
I remember the old gardener said, when he heard the story, that he suspected that it was only a woodpecker tapping; but I refused to believe that a bird could make so loud a noise. It was not till long afterwards, when I happened to both hear and see one, that I became convinced the old gardener was right.
The woodpecker is a handsome bird, about the size of a pigeon, of a greenish colour, with black and white marks upon the wings, and a crimson stain upon the head. It is heard much oftener than seen, for, being very timid, it is ingenious in hiding itself. It does not build a nest like other birds, but seeks for a decayed place in the trunk of some tree, where it scoops out a hole. There Mr. and Mrs. Woodpecker establish their little home: there the eggs are laid, and the young ones are reared.
PUZZLE-PAGE.
Now see if you can find out the names of all these objects. One of them begins with C, two with D, one with F, one with H, and one with T.
A STORY OF A WOODEN HORSE.
CHAPTER VI.
A PHILOSOPHER AT HOME.—THE HORSE IS STOLEN.
The visit of Mr. de Malassise and Eusèbe only lasted two days. Eusèbe went away very well satisfied with himself, for in those two days he had contrived to alarm his father several times by putting himself in a passion, and had teazed his cousin so ingeniously that he more than once brought tears into his eyes.