(Jacques Callot (1592-1635), the French engraver and painter, famed for the grotesque nature of his subjects .-- Translator's Note.) If you come across it in the bramble-bushes, it sways upon its four stilts, it wags its head, it looks at you with a knowing air, it twists its mitre round and peers over its shoulder.

You seem to read mischief in its pointed face.

You try to take hold of it.

The imposing attitude ceases forthwith, the raised corselet is lowered and the creature makes off with mighty strides, helping itself along with its fighting-limbs, which clutch the twigs.

The flight need not last long, if you have a practised eye.