pies in their courtly black satin and white velvet, pounced on the
morsels, and retired with them to the branches of the nearest trees.

"Oh, now," said Terry, "we can give the dear little song-birds their
breakfast! Just see how they are running like little chickens to be fed!"

However, only now was the fighting to begin. The thrushes pecked the
blackbirds, and the blackbirds flew at the thrushes, and both beat back the
little redbreasts and tomtits.

"Rascals!" said Turly; "they are every bit as bad as the crows!"

"Oh!" cried Terry, "to think they can sing so sweetly and behave so
cruelly!"

"I suppose it's only their way," said Turly. "I think birds have to be
cruel, or they couldn't live. See them picking up the worms, and smashing
the snail-shells against the stones!"

"And men are cruel too," said Terry. "They kill the lambs--"

Here their talk was interrupted by an unusual and startling sight. The air
became suddenly darkened by a moving cloud of winging sea-gulls high
overhead, circling above the tops of the trees, ever increasing in number
till their wide wings seemed to be almost laced together.

Each time the great circle they had marked for themselves was travelled
they descended a little lower towards the earth.

"How lovely!" cried Terry. "They are really coming down to us!"

"They are wanting their dinner," said Walsh, the steward, coming to where
the children were standing with their faces turned up to the skies.

"Oh, do you think so?" cried Terry. "And where can we get crumbs enough for
such a number?"

[Illustration]

"But sea-gulls live on fish," said Turly, "and the sea is never frozen. Why
should the frost make the sea-gulls hungry?"

"I think they're river-gulls," said Walsh; "but anyhow it's looking for
something to eat they are, or they'd never be here. I think there's a lot
of damaged grain up somewhere in the lofts, and we'll boil up a pot of it
for them, not to disappoint the creatures!"

"That will be very good," said Terry, "if damaged grain will agree with
them, Mr. Walsh. But do you think they will like to have it damaged?"

Walsh turned away laughing. "Wait till you see them eating it, Miss Terry,"
he called over his shoulder. "Maybe it's green peas and jam tarts you'd
like to be settin' down to them!"

"I don't think they would like jam tarts," said Terry, "but we might give
them some meat;" and away she flew, followed by Turly, to interview the
cook on the subject