To be able to name the different sorts of feathers to be picked up on any woodland walk is an interest like that of the knowledge of flowers, which allows one to give each wayside blossom its name. The gamekeeper may put by the more beautiful feathers he finds for presents to his friends. The jay is killed for an egg-thief, but his blue and black wing is borne afterwards to church on the hat of a village maiden. The keeper has an appreciative eye for the burnished metallic hues of the feathers of cock pheasants of every kind. What greatly pleases him is to point out to the ignorant the existence of those two peculiar feathers in the wings of woodcock--the tiny, stiff, pointed feathers, growing close against the base of the first flight feather's shaft in each wing. These he could pick out in the dark by sense of touch. They are to be found in snipe's wings--in which they are lighter in colour, and even more minute--and in other birds, but it would be difficult to say what particular purpose they serve beyond a finish or covering for the exposed edge of the first flight feather. An unwritten law entitles the shooter of a woodcock to these particular feathers, and formerly the etiquette of sport allowed him to wear them in reasonable numbers in his hat. To-day one may sometimes see them in the hard hat of the poulterer. Painters in olden times appreciated the stiff points of the feathers for delicate work. And there was an agent on a Scotch shoot whereon woodcock are plentiful who maintained the national reputation for thrift by using the feathers as nibs for writing. But we suspect he did more woodcock shooting than quill-driving. * * * * * When the Dog's Asleep Rats are marvellously cunning, they never fail to seize an opportunity and make the best of it. They are as bold as cunning, and take desperate risks; but no doubt they know their own powers. The cunning and the boldness of rats are made evident when one is seen eating the crumbs of a biscuit beside a sleeping dog. Rats soon find out that where there is a dog in a kennel there will be food--not crumbs only, but an assortment of bones, and many a tit-bit, despised by a fastidious dog, from that comprehensive dish, household scraps. It is strange to watch a rat stealing a feast within a few inches of a sleeping terrier--the very rat for whose blood the terrier has wearied himself by scratching at a hole for the greater part of the day. Should the dog wake up and dash for his enemy, the rat coolly darts beneath the kennel. It is a thousand to one against the dog catching the thief. * * * * * A Story of Rats