as yet only knew by report. But it was in the dead ebb of the tide
and the waning daylight that the feathered tenants of the Marsh
seemed to voice dismal prophecies of the ruin of their old master
and mistress, and to give themselves up to gloomiest lamentation
and querulous foreboding. Whether the traditional "bird of the
air" had entrusted his secret to a few ornithological friends, or
whether from a natural disposition to take gloomy views of life, it
was certain that at this hour the vocal expression of the Marsh was
hopeless and despairing. It was then that a dejected plover,
addressing a mocking crew of sandpipers on a floating log, seemed
to bewail the fortune that was being swallowed up by the riotous
living and gambling debts of Jim. It was then that the querulous
crane rose, and testily protested against the selling of his
favorite haunt in the sandy peninsula, which only six months of
Jim's excesses had made imperative. It was then that a mournful
curlew, who, with the preface that he had always been really
expecting it, reiterated the story that Jim had been seen more than
once staggering home with nervous hands and sodden features from a
debauch with the younger officers; it was the same desponding fowl
who knew that Maggie's eyes had more than once filled with tears at
Jim's failings, and had already grown more hollow with many
watchings. It was a flock of wrangling teal that screamingly
discussed the small scandals, jealous heart-burnings, and curious
backbitings that had attended Maggie's advent into society. It was
the high-flying brent who, knowing how the sensitive girl, made
keenly conscious at every turn of her defective training and
ingenuous ignorance, had often watched their evening flight with
longing gaze, now "honked" dismally at the recollection. It was at
this hour and season that the usual vague lamentings of Dedlow
Marsh seemed to find at last a preordained expression. And it was