h' ould
bird jest looks et up an' down, an' this way an' that, an' cocks his
head 'pon wan side, an' looks agen an' chuckles, for all the world as
ef to say, 'Et looks like a man, an' 'tis fixed like a man; but dash
my wig! ef 'tain't a scarecrow an' no more, I ain't fit to live in an
age o' imitashuns.'

"Well, he jest sot an' sot, an' arter a while he began for to taste
the flavour o' the joke, an' then he lay back an' laffed, did that
bird, till he was fit to sweat. I reckoned I'd a-heerd birds laff
afore this, but I made an error. My 'ivens, sir! but he jest
clinched on to that pea-stick, an' shook the enj'yment out of hissel'
like a conjurer shellin' cannon-balls from a hat. An' then he'd stop
a bit, an' then fall to hootin' agen, till I was forced to laff too,
way back behind the hedge, for cumpanny. An' ivery time he noted a
fresh bit o' likelihood in the scarecrow he'd go off in a fresh fit.
I thought he'd niver ha' done.

"But in a while he hushed, an' waited a bit to calm hes nerves, an'
stepped down off the pea-stick. Thinks I, 'What es he up to now?'
An' I stood up to see, but quiet-like, so's I shudn' scare 'n.

"I hadn' long to wait. He jest steps up behind the scarecrow, makes
a leg, so grave as you plaise, an' commences for to dance round 'un--
fust 'pon wan leg, then 'pon t'other--like as ef 'twas a haythen
dancin' round a graven image. But the flauntin' ins'lence o't, sir!
The brazen, fleerin' abusefulness! Not a feather, ef you'll believe
me, but fairly leaked wi' ribaldry--jest _leaked_.

"Th' ould bird had got ha'f-way round, a-mincin' an' japin', an'
throwin' out hes legs this way an' that an' gettin' more boldacious
an' ondacent wi' ivery step, when he cocks his head askew for a
second, jest to see how the pore image was a-takin' o't, an' that
moment he catches the scarecrow's eye.

"Aw, sir, to see the change as comed over that bird!
The forthiness [10] went out o'n for all the world like wind out 'n a
pricked bladder; an' I reckon nex' minnit there warn't no meaner,
sicklier-lookin' critter atween this an' Johnny Groats' than that
ould rook. There was a kind o' shever ran through 'n, an' hes
feathers went ruffly-like, an' hes legs bowed in, an' he jes' lay
flat to groun' and goggled an' glazed up at that eye like a dyin'
duck in a thunderstorm. 'Twas a rich sight, sir; an' how I contrived
not to bust mysel' wi' laffin', es more'n I can tell 'ee to this day.

"So he lay for up t