"I stales down the lane, an' looks over the gate, an' when I takes in, at las', what 'tes all about, my!--you mou't ha' knacked me down wi' a feather! 'Twas a prayer-meetin' them rooks was a-holdin', sir, as I'm a senner. The peas was fairly hid wi' the crowd, an' 'twas that thick I counted sax 'pon wan pea-stick. An' in the middle, jes' onder the scarecrow, stood up th' ould rook I'd a-seen afore, an' told hes experiences. He ramped, an' raved, an' mopped, an' mowed, an' kep' a-noddin' his head t'wards the scarecrow, to show how hes salvashun was worked; an' all the time the rest o' the rooks sat still as mice. On'y when he pulls up to breathe a bit, they lets out an' squalls, as ef to say, 'Amen. 'Tes workin'--'tes workin'! Pray strong, brother!' an' at et he'd go agen, same as he _must_. An' at las', when 'twas 'hold breath or bust' wi' 'un, he ups an' starts a hemn, an' they all jines in, till you mou't hear the caprouse [13] two mile off. That were the finish, too; for arter the row died away, there was a minnit or so o' silent prayer, an' then the whole gang gets up off they pea-sticks an' sails away for Squire Tresawsen's rookery, t'other side o' the hill. "Well, in cou'se I tells the tale, an' was called a liard for my pains. But the same thing happen'd nex' Sunday, an' the Sunday arter--an' not a pea stolen all the time--an' a good few people comed down behind the hedge to see, an' owned up as I were right. Et got to be the talk o' the country; an' how 'twud ha' ended, goodness on'y knaws, ef I hadn' a-spi'led the sport mysel'. An' how I did so, you shall hear. "Wan day I tuk a consait as 'twud be a game to take away the scarecrow's eye an' see what happen'd. So, late 'pon a Sat'rday night, down I goes an' digs out the eye wi' my jack-knife, an' lays et careful down 'pon the ground beside et, an' so off to bed. "Nex' mornin' I were down waitin' some time afore the rooks was due, an' by-'m-by, about 'leven in the forenoon, 'long they comes by the score, an' takes the sittin's 'pon the pea-sticks. They was barely settled, when out steps my ould rook an' walks up to the scarecrow to lead off same as ushul. "He gives a shake o' the head to set hes jawin'-tacks loose, casts a glance up'ards t'wards the eye, jes' to fetch inspirashun, an' starts back like as ef shot. You cou'd see the 'stonishment _clinch_ 'n, an' the look o' righteousness melted off hes face like snow in an oven. For that bird had _gifts_, sir; an' wan o' these was a power o' fashul expresshun. Well, back he starts, an', with the same, cotches sight o' the eye lyin' 'pon the ground an' starin' up all heav'nly-blue an' smilin'.