"What, rags and tatters, back again so soon!" I seem to hear him say.

"You miserable travesty of a bird, scarcely fit for a weasel to dine on! Your presence is an insult to us, but I'll soon settle you.

You'll feel the cold on the other, side of the wall when I've knocked off a few more of your rusty rags." Down from his perch he came, but no sooner had he touched his feet to the ground than the blackbird went straight at him with extraordinary fury.

The chaffinch, taken by surprise, was buffeted and knocked over, then, recovering himself, fled in consternation, hotly pursued by the sick one.

Into the bush they went, but in a moment they were out again, darting this way and that, now high up in the trees, now down to the ground, the blackbird always close behind; and no little bird flying from a hawk could have exhibited a greater terror than that pert chaffinch--that vivacious and most pugnacious little cock bantam.
At last they went quite away, and were lost to sight.