“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 ten minnits, an’ then he staggered up ’pon hes feet an’ sneaked out o’ them peas like a chuck-sheep dog, an’ the repent’nce a-tricklin’ out ’n ivery pore.  He passed me by that close I cou’d ha’ knacked ‘n over wi’ a stick, but he didn’ see me more’n ef I’d a’been a pisky-man. [11] All hes notiss, I reckon, were for that gashly eye; an’ he looked back ivery now and agen, like as ef he’d say, ‘I be but worms; an’, wuss nor that, I’ve a-been a scoffin’, lyin’, Sabbath-breakin’ ould worms; but do ’ee let me off this wance, an’ I’ll strive an’ wrastle,’ he seemed to say, ‘an’ do purty well all a rook can to be gathered to the fold.’  An’ wi’ that he slinks over th’ hedge an’ out o’ sight.