The flax being done out, Sally, with a good smart girl to help her (Sally Merrithew), had linen yarn to bleach to her heart’s content. One forenoon, about eleven o’clock, Ben and Charlie were in the field; Sally had spread some linen yarn on the grass to whiten, and gone in to get dinner. All at once a terrible outcry arose from the house; Sally was screaming, “Ben! Ben! get the gun;” the baby was bawling for dear life, and Sailor barking in concert.
The cause of the outcry was soon manifest. A large fish-hawk was seen sailing along in the direction of the eastern point, with two skeins of Sally’s yarn in his claws, screaming with delight at the richness of his prize.
“Why don’t you fire, Ben?” screamed Sally.
“It’s no use,” said Ben; “he’s out of range.”
“Well, get the axe and cut the tree down this minute.”
“I will, mother,” said Charlie, running to the wood-pile for the axe.
“Stop till after dinner,” said Ben, who had not the most distant idea of cutting the tree down; however, he felt very sorry for Sally, and like a prudent general, permitted her feelings to exhaust themselves. “If I’ve got to cut that great pine down this warm day, I think I must have a cup of tea.” He well knew the soothing effect of a cup of tea.
When they were seated at table, he said,--
“What a nice dinner this is, Sally! you do make the best bread, and such nice butter!” Not a word about the fish-hawk. But as dinner was most over, Ben began to unfold his purpose. “Sally,” said he, “do you love that little creature?” pointing to the baby.
“Haven’t you taken a great deal of comfort in making his little dresses? and wouldn’t you feel bad if some one should come and tear down this house, break the furniture, and destroy all that we’ve worked, scrubbed, and contrived so long to collect around us, for these little ones?”
“Why, Ben, how you talk! Of course I should. But what makes you talk so? Who’s going to hurt us?”
“Nobody, I hope; but suppose somebody had taken some little thing from us,--an axe, a shovel, or a milk pan,--would you want their house torn down over their heads for it?”
“But you want me to cut down that tree, and break that poor fish-hawk’s nest to pieces, that she has built stick by stick, lugging them miles through the air in her claws, just because she took two skeins of yarn to line her nest with, it’s so much better than eel-grass, and which we shall hardly miss; besides, she don’t know any better than to take what she wants, wherever she can find it.”