Le breast of the one, "I am a dead bird." "If this water-hen,"
reasoned the other, "reaches the burn, my supper
vanishes with her." Down the sloping bank
the hen had distinctly the best of it, but after
that came a yard of level snow, and
here she tugged and screamed in vain.
I had so far been an unobserved spectator; but my sympathies were
with the beltie, and, thinking it high time to interfere, I jumped
into the water. The water-hen gave one mighty final tug and toppled
into the burn; while the weasel viciously
showed me his teeth,
and then stole slowly up the bank to the rose-bush, whence,
