And if
the butcher was good-natured, we begged him to let us get a near view
of the mysterious insides and to give us a bladder to blow up for a
foot-ball.
But here is an illustration of the better side of boy nature. In our
back yard there were three elm trees and in the one nearest the house
a pair of robin-redbreasts had their nest. When the young were almost
able to fly, a troop of the celebrated "Scottish Grays," visited
Dunbar, and three or four of the fine horses were lodged in our
stable. When the soldiers were polishing their swords and helmets,
they happened to notice the nest, and just as they were leaving, one
of them climbed the tree and robbed it. With sore sympathy we watched
the young birds as the hard-hearted robber pushed them one by one
beneath his jacket,--all but two that jumped out of the nest and tried
to fly, but they were easily caught as they fluttered on the ground,
and were hidden away with the rest. The distress of the bereaved
parents, as they hovered and screamed over the frightened crying
children they so long had loved and sheltered and fed, was pitiful to
see; but the shining soldier rode grandly away on his big gray horse,
caring only for the few pennies the young songbirds would bring and
the beer they would buy, while we all, sisters and brothers, were
crying and sobbing.
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