ce until we had got him safely out
of the place; but it was not granted. Our feathered songster in the
plane-tree broke into his little piece.

"There," said my hostess--"there's that bird again." She turned to me.
"What did you say it was?"

I hoped that the Authority would speak first, and that the others would
then accept my assurance that they had misunderstood me the day before;
but he was entangled at that moment in a watercress sandwich, the loose
ends of which were still waiting to be tucked away.

I looked anxiously at the girl who had promised to remember, in case she
wanted to say something, but she also was silent. Everybody was silent
except that miserable bird.

Well, I had to have another go at it. "Blackman's Warbler," I said
firmly.

"Oh, yes," said my hostess.

"Blackman's Warbler; I shall always remember that," lied the
earnest-looking girl.

The Authority, who was free by this time, looked at me indignantly.

"Nonsense," he said; "it's the Chiff-chaff."

Everybody else looked at me reproachfully. I was about to say that
"Blackman's Warbler" was the local name for the Chiff-chaff in our part
of Somerset, when the Authority spoke again.

"The Chiff-chaff," he said to our hostess with an insufferable air of
knowledge.

I wasn't going to stand that.

"So _I_ thought when I heard it first," I said, giving him a gentle
smile. It was now the Authority's turn to get the reproachful looks.

"Are they very much alike?" my hostess asked me, much impressed.

"Very much. Blackmail's Warbler is often mistaken for the Chiff-chaff,
even by so-called experts"--and I turned to the Authority and
added, "Have another sandwich, won't you?"--"particularly so, of course,
during the breeding season. It is true that the eggs are more speckled,
but--"

"Bless my soul," said the Authority, but it was easy to see that he was
shaken, "I should think I know a Chiff-chaff when I hear one."

"Ah, but do you know a Blackman's Warbler? One doesn't often hear them in
this country. Now in Algiers--"

The bird said "Chiff-chaff" again with an almost indecent plainness of
speech.

"There you are!" I said triumphantly. "Listen," and I held up a finger.
"You notice the difference? _Obviously_ a Blackman's Warbler."

Everybody looked at the Authority. He was wondering how long it would
take to get a book about birds down from London, and deciding that
it couldn't be done that afternoon. Meanwhile he did not dare to