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 behind a press, inspected the hammer, and ran through the back door into the garden, Regina and Cvok at his heels. Just behind the corner of the house they stood still. Upon a high plum tree near the garden wall, where the beehives stood, a beautiful bluish-green bird, about the size of a crow, sat preening its breast with its beak.

Father Ledecký at once laid the musket to his cheek, aimed at the bird and fired. The next moment the bird tumbled down into the grass.

The lucky sportsman ran over everything in his eagerness to find the prey, and came back showing it up triumphantly to Cvok and the housekeeper.

“Isn’t that a fine bird?” he said to Cvok. “I can tell you it isn tisn’t [sic] easy to find one like it.”

“Heavens! I never saw a bird like that before in all my life!”

“It’s very rare. One finds it very seldom in Bohemia—once in a lifetime, perhaps. And it is as shy as it can be. But for all that I hit it!” he added, with proud satisfaction.

“What do you call it?”

“It is a bee-eater—Merops apiaster,” replied Ledecký, showing off his Latin.

“But why did you kill it?” asked Cvok, reproachfully.

“You are a regular child, my dear fellow,” replied Ledecký. “Why did I kill it? Well, in the first place, it is a pleasure to shoot such a rare bird; secondly, the merops likes to eat bees, and therefore damages my hives; and lastly, if I get it stuffed, it is well worth five florins.”

The word “five” gave Cvok a start. Following Miss Regina and Ledecký into the house, he reflected, “Now, there is a strange thing! To him the florins come of