They were promenading, soon after this, in the agreeable walks of the Priory Grove, where there was a large rookery, almost every third tree being crowned with the nest of one of these sable and clamorous children of the air. “Let us try,” said Hughes, who was also much addicted to betting, addressing our hero, “which can the most completely take one of those nests, you or I.” “Done, be the bet what it may,” cried the Tregaron wag. It was agreed that this boyish feat was to be for a wager of five pounds, and Phillips to be the umpire. Hughes observed to his opponent, “I propose that we accompany each other up our respective trees, to be satisfied that nothing but fair play is used,” to which Twm assented, and gave him the first chance and choice of his nest. The pair were soon at the top of a lofty oak, and the merry parson took out the eggs, one at a time, placing them in his coat pocket, and afterwards removed the nest, and brought it down with him. Twm then went to a distant tree, and climbed to the top with the utmost caution, before his opponent had reached the lower branches, and, with good management, that proved him an adept in this idle business, placed his hat on the top, and thus secured the old bird. Fastening the hat and nest together, he descended with them both. Hughes was the first to declare his antagonist the winner; but the umpire requiring him to produce the amount of his adventure, his surprise was great, on finding that he had nothing more to shew than the empty nest; our hero having slipped his pen-knife through the bottom of his pocket, and received the eggs in the palm of his hand, in the same order that they were taken from the nest. On this discovery, Hughes declared that Twm Shôn Catti would never meet his match, till Satan himself became his opponent.