Tales of the birdsFowler, W. Warde (William Warde)
General
Tales of the birds
Fowler, W. Warde (William Warde)
Birds; Birds -- Juvenile literature
Cocktail now found the fondest desire of his heart realized; so far his
genius had always been hampered by older birds, who in spite of their
inferior talents would always contrive to direct the movements of a
troop by combining together: but now he was in sole and happy command
of three admiring subjects, who would not worry him with advice, and
would obey his orders implicitly. He took them first to the top of a
tall elm, whence they could see over the fast whitening fields to a
range of hills not far away to the southward; he told them that he
should cross those hills and rest for the night on the other side in
shelter which he would find for them. Meanwhile they were to fly at a
little distance apart, in order to keep a good look-out for berries; but
they must always keep their eyes on him, and when they heard his signal
“Chak-chak,” they were to join him again at once.
“The first who fails to come at that signal,” said Cocktail, “or who is
guilty of any negligence or disobedience, WILL BE AT ONCE LEFT BEHIND!”
With these words he started off, and the others followed him as they had
been told, at a little distance to right and left. Very little in the
way of food was found that day, and Jack and Jill were getting tired and
hungry, when after rising to the hills, and passing for some miles over
high, desolate country, where there was hardly a hedge to be seen, and
the white carpet was only broken by low gray stone walls which could not
help a hungry fieldfare, they descended towards evening into the shelter
of a little well-wooded valley,[2] where were the pleasant grounds of a
gentleman’s house. Cocktail made straight for this house, but stopped
short on a tall tree outside the garden, and began to look round him.
It was about four o’clock, and fast getting dark. He could see the lamp
lighted in a room in the house, and a bright fire burning; a lady sat by
the fire at work; then a maid came in with tea, and the blinds were
drawn down, the shutters closed, and all was gray and cold again. But
Cocktail’s keen eye had seen something by the bright firelight which
made him jerk his tail and sit more upright on his bough--berries,
scarlet berries, arranged all about an old oak chimney-piece!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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