Sacramento daily record-union., 1888-11-10

the kitchen. Here the little partridges
hid behind the wood-box in a frightened
eovey. They were startled by the least
sound, and whisked out of sight at the
raising OF a finger.
Faix," said Mr.. Finn, as he gazed upon
the punches of brown feathers darling
hither and thither over the floor, thin
wild chickens bates the Dootch for quick
ness. Begorra, but they're fly Musha, but
the hav' no tails p
Don't frecken yerseP," said his wife,
They'll hav' foine tails gin six wakes"
Mickey was so tickled with his new
charge that he hated to go to school. One
day he put two of the patridges in his
| trowsers pocket, and took them with him.
The got out of his desk when he was
called up to the spelling-class, and created
great excitement in the school. All the
children left their seats and confusion pre-
vailed until the wild chickens had flown
out of the open window.
PART ".
And so the summer faded away in the
| autumn And October's chill breath be-
gan to kill the leaves in Lindsley's Wood.
| BY this time the partridges had become
strong of wing, and following their native
instincts made short excursions into the
| fields near by. Mrs. Finn was III state of
constant fear lest they should not come
back. but every evening when the pan of
cornmeal was SET out in the back yard the
partridges and the ducks were there feed
ing amicably together.
Thursday, October 4th, had been set
apart as a day of feasting. Mrs. Finn had
decided to kill six of the partridges on the
previous evening, and Mr.. Cronin, the ac-
Gordon player, Mrs. Doolan and her boy
Jack, Mike Murphy and his wife, who had
never eaten the toothsome wild chicken,
and Mike Welsh and the sharer of his Joys
and sorrows, had been invited to attended.
1t was decided after long consultation
between Mrs. O Brieu and Mrs. Finn that
the wild chickens should be served up in a
pot pie with appropriate Accomplishments
of sliced potatoes, sweet marjory, thyme,
onions, carrots and other herb and vegeta-
ble delicacies.
FINALE.
1t was the twilight hour in the Finn
! back yard, when the frogs were beginning
TO croak and the whippoorwill over the
hill was piping his lay. Shadows of the
evening were stealing across the sky
Paler and paler grew the clouds, and over
against the horizon the outlines of Linds-
ley's wood were fading against the east
tern sky. Mrs. Fion and her boy were
sitting on the doorstep watching the par.
| tridges eat their evening meal and loath
to begin the slaughter of the innocents
| for the morrow's potpie, when across the
meadows intervening between the shanty
and the wood there came curious muf-
fled sound
"Fhwat is that ?" said Mrs Finn.
"Its meser doesn't know" replied
Mickey.
Again the sound came over the wide
reaches of meadow land. 1t attracted the
attention of the partridges. They lifted
their heads from the pan of cornmeal and
clustered together. The sound was like
soft beating on a muffied drum. There
was sudden movement among the part
ridges, then as one bird they rose into the
air with whir which startled Mickey and
his mother to their feet. Huddled close
| together in a bunch, which could have
been covered by quilt, the partridges
flew. There was a heeting glimpse of
brown feathers, rush Of beating wings
and the shadows of the wood closed over
| the fleeing birds.
Mickey looked at his mother in Wild
eyed astonishment. Then he managed to
stammer out:
M-m-mother, the ould chicken called
the little vans, an they've gone home! !'-
Ernest Jarrold an Ne,g York Euening Sun