Sabine Baring-Gould,
The Story of Jael — Chapter I: Gull-Fleet
(1887)
“ You do not understand fun. You lose your temper. I had not put the bread between my lips, and was unprepared for you, and down you dive at my eyes. Spite, old bird! Wicked bird! Spite, that! You shall not do that again.’ She sprang to her feet. ‘Now—you rascal, you!’ she exclaimed, threatening the gull, which had settled at her feet on the ground. ‘I shall not forget and forgive that. I hate meanness. I hate cowardice, and it was cowardly of you to strike at my eyes when I was not expecting you. ”
