The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1902-08-29
THE STARLINGS.
BY BARRY PAIN.


the house, cool white figure, a yellow-cov-
cred French novel in her hand. 1t was
a gray, hot day, the flaming tulips hung
heavily, in the distant orchard the bees
made low thunder over pink and milky
blossoms. She turned back to the respect
ablelooking man who had just touched his
hat to her.
you've cleared those birds out?"
eyes, m'lady. 1t was done first thing
this morning.
'Do you know what happened to them?'
''The cats had EN-, m'lady."
: cit seems frightfully cruel" she said,
hesitatingly.
eyes, mlady,'' said the man, obediently.
He had merely carried out her exasperated
orders.
"Still, they made such an intolerab!e
noise we'll all right
She went down the stone steps and
crossed the lawn, pausing moment to
watch the silly goldfish in the basin of the
fountain Then she went on to the stupid
little chalet that overlooked the broad sheet
of water with the blue hills beyond; it was
pleasant enough for lazy woman to sit
there and read on fine morning in early
summer.
She draw lounge chair out on to the
verandah, and grew absorbed in her beauti-
full and quite pestilential novel. 1t had
some new bad ideas this novel, and words
not to be found in the school dictionaries.
How beautifully quiet it was, and what
change from the day before2 Yesterday,
every three minutes, her nerves had been
torn and wounded by the screech of the
back with his beaE laden to the nest in the
roof. 1t had been really quite impossible
to read there with peace and comfort.
Whereas to-day
Her train of thought snapped suddenly
For quite clearly and beyond mistake Just
above her head, she heard once more the
rising prolonged screech of young brood.
She sprang to her feet, and rushed away,
calling for Harris She was very angry with
him; she had ordered the nest to be cleared
out, and he had told her that he had done it,
and he had lied to her. Harris heard her
patiently and went back with her to the
chalet and there he showed her that the
nest was really gone and that there
were no young birds there at all
Its most extraordinary" she said 81
was absolutely certain | heard them. 1
must have fallen asleep and dreamed it,
She sat down again with her book, but
her mind was not easy. She pictured the
cats-soft, merciless brutes-devouring the
young brood. Already she was sorry that
she had given the order; there were hun
dred other places where she might have
sat.
A plalntlve murmur as from a young
brood overhead She rubbed her eyes,
pinched herself, made certain that she was
not asleep. 1t grew louder and louder, until
it became screech. A kind of panic seized
her. Her book dropped from her hands,
and she ran as if some one were pursuing her,
frequently looking behind her As she
passed through the wild part of the garden
she noticed with disgust three fat cats
heavily asleep in the long grass. 1t was not
until she was back in the house that she
felt safe. The thing had to be explained
somehow.
At luncheon she was in good enough
spirits to quarrel with her husband, a tact
turn sportsman. He had been riding. and
the colt had been playing up with him. She
said that it was probably his own fault, and.
she would ride the colt herself on the follow
ing day. He said briefly that he would not
allow her-especially now that her doctor
had told her to keep as quiet as possible
Then she got sulky She had meant to tell
her husband about the starlings but this
changed her mind.
She awoke that night with faint chirrup
in her ears, with a rapid crescendo to the
screeching of a hungry brood Her heart
seemed to stop. She was, for moment
too frightened to move Her first instinct
was to scream for her husband, who was
sleeping in the next ROOM Then she
stretched out her hand, found the switch by
her bedside, and turned on the electric
light.
That comforting light 1t showed her
her accustomed room just as usual, with
nothing changed. But it had been bad
dream. She noted that the curtain over
the window moved and bellied out. She
always slept with her windows Open and
the wind had risen in the night. The idea
OF an open window made her uncomfort
able again. She had the fear that some
thing, she knew not what, might get in
there. In a few minutes she was suffi-
GENTLY composed to get out OF bed to
shut it,
She drew the curtain back, slowly and
deliberately, and began to shut the window
Suddenly out of the dark came a whirr of
wings, and instantly Aome flying thing, soft
and cold and wet, dashed out OF the night
and struck her full in the face. She
screamed and beat with her hands, and
sense of awful repulsion and disgust over
whelmed her. She was like mad woman
At last, conscious that it had gone-out
into the night again-she staggered, still
screaming, from her room
The door of her husbands room was
open, and he was already in the passage
What's the matter? Cynthia, whats the
NATTER" he kept saying She tried to
speak, failed, and fell heavily He carried
her, senseless, into his ROOM
The actual death was an easy matter for
the doctor to explain; less easy was the
state of the dead womans eyes, torn and
filled with blood.-Black and White.
Ecccntricity Genius.
Romney, the eminent portrait painter,
was married man engaged in rustic EN-
ployment in Yorkshire when he discovered
by mere chance that he could draw. He