soon forgets. When I gave him only a few to dispose of, he hid
them helter-skelter among the leaves, forgetting some of them
afterwards and enjoying the rare delight of stumbling upon them
when he was hungriest--much like a child whom I saw once giving
himself a sensation. He would throw his penny on the ground, go
round the house, and saunter back with his hands in his pockets
till he saw the penny, which he pounced upon with almost the joy
of treasure-trove in the highway.

Meeko made a sad end--a fate which he deserved well enough, but
which I had to pity, spite of myself. When the spring came on, he
went back to evil ways. Sap was sweet and buds were luscious with
the first swelling of tender leaves; spring rains had washed out
plenty of acorns in the crannies under the big oak, and there
were fresh-roasted peanuts still at the corner window-sill
within easy jump of a linden twig; but he took to watching the
robins to see where they nested, and when the young were hatched
he came no more to my window. Twice I saw him with fledgelings in
his mouth; and I drove him day after day from a late clutch of
robin's eggs that I could watch from my study.

He had warnings enough. Once some students, who had been friendly
all winter, stoned him out of a tree where he was nestrobbing;
once the sparrows caught him in their nest under the high eaves,
and knocked him off promptly. A twig upon which he caught in
falling saved his life undoubtedly, for the sparrows were after
him and he barely escaped into a knot hole, leaving the angry
horde clamoring outside. But nothing could reform him.

One morning at daylight a great crying of robins brought me to