ttage; but I must relate who
the inhabitants were before I go any farther.

The house belonged to an Irish gentleman of the name of Wolfe, who,
after emigrating to South America, and building a house for his family,
a few months before this story opens, brought out his wife, four
children, and their old and faithful servant, called John Lester, to
keep him company, and help him in the new life he had chosen for
himself.

Mrs. Wolfe was rather an inexperienced young lady, and the manners and
customs of the place and people, particularly those of the coloured
servant, Chunga, astonished her immensely. The white lady had a great
horror of creeping things of all kinds; she could hardly bear to get
into her bath, for she sometimes found a centipede, as long as her hand,
drowned in it.

At night, when the lamp was lighted, cockchafers and insects of all
kinds buzzed and flew round it, until their wings were singed; then they
danced hornpipes on the table over Mrs. Wolfe's work or writing, falling
most likely into the ink-bottle first, and then spinning about with
their long legs, smearing everything with which they came in contact,
till she used to run away and implore her husband to "kill them all and
have done with it." The children thought it was rather fun, except when
a scorpion stung them. They had a play about the lizards, which were
pretty and harmless, and they used to count how many different kinds of
beetles were killed each night.

Sometimes the baby screamed when a particularly large spider walked
across its face; but these little trials had to be borne.

On the morning of this memorable day, as Mrs. Wolfe was employed in some
household duties, Chunga rushed into the verandah, joyfully crying--

"Oh, missie! oh, missie! de birds are come!"

"What birds?" inquired her mistress in amazement, wondering what new
object was going to be exhibited to her, but almost expecting to see a
creature with three legs, or two heads.

"De pittas, missie; de ant-thrushes, you call them," said the black
woman, gleefully. "Now missie's house will be clean; massa is away, all
de tings will be turned out," and as she spoke, she seized her
mistress's dress, and, gently drawing her to the open door, directed her
attention to several dark-coloured, short-tailed birds which were
hopping from tree to tree in the neighbourhood.

"I don't see anything extraordinary about them," said Mrs. Wolfe, in a
disappointed tone; "they are on