wn Putney way, as 'as one leg, a nice little bit o'
'ouse property and two great hauk's eggs."

It did seem a rare combination of marriageable qualities. I asked the
value of a great auk's egg, and was surprised to learn that a specimen
had recently been sold at auction for something like three hundred
pounds. I inquired whether all the great auks' eggs that came on the
market were genuine, or whether "faked" specimens were to be met with.
I had heard, I thought, of "faked" eagles' eggs.

"Different kind o' bird altogether, Sir, and different kind o' egg.
Can't very well be imitated. You didn't think as I said great 'awk,
Sir?" he asked very anxiously.

"No, no; I understand," I hastened to assure him.

"The 'awk, Sir, is a bird o' the heagle kind; the hauk's a different
kind altogether--web-footed, aquatic--was, I should rather say,
seeing as 'ow 'e's un appily extinct. Hauk and 'awk, Sir--you take the
difference?"

I said that I thought the distinction was perceptible to a fine ear
for the aspirate.

The phrase took the little man's fancy wonderfully. "That's it, Sir,"
he exclaimed, beaming up delightedly at me. "You've 'it it! Done it
in one, you 'ave. 'Fine ear for the haspirate'--that's what my darter
Maria 'ave and what I, for one, 'ave not. I'm not above confessing of
it; 'tain't given to all of us to 'ave everything, as the ant said to
the helephant when 'e was boasting about 'is trunk. Some there is as
ain't got no ear for music--same as Joe Mangles, the grocer down the
street, as 'as caught a heavy cold in 'is 'ead with taking 'is 'at off
every time as 'e 'ears 'It's a long long way to Tipperary.' Why, I've
knowed men," said Mr. Punt, in the manner of one who works himself up
to an almost incredible climax--"I've knowed men as couldn't tell the
difference between a linnet's note and a goldfinch."

"Astonishing," I said.

One of the canaries suddenly broke into a rich trill of song, as if to
add his personal expression of surprise.

"Now there!" Mr. Punt exclaimed, shaking a podgy forefinger at him.
"There's the bird as give all the trouble and cause words 'tween me
and Maria, 'e did. 'Artz Mountain roller, that bird is. Beeutiful 'is
note, ain't it, Sir?"

There really was a deep full tone, distantly suggestive of a
nightingale's, that favourably distinguished the bird's song from the
canary's usual acute treble.

"'I'm doubting, Maria,' I say to 'er," Mr. Punt resumed. "No longer
ago than this