Bird Stories

ut throne on a tall pine stump, where he could see far and wide, and

ved in the woods near the town dump, where he picked up many a bright trinket, chief among which was

ellow that any minstrel might have been proud of it, though he seldom sang, and it is possible that no one but Corbie's grandmother heard it at its

there is so much to be said that, if I once began to tell about t

er Crow had

was sure to be remarkable; for there is no doubt a

for he was adopted into a human family when he was ten

for it was then that he needed the most tender and skillful care. Well, he had it; for the gentleness and skill of Father and Mother Crow left nothing to be desired. They had built the best possible nest for

she and Father Crow had shared, turn and turn about, the long task of keeping

bodies to make them fluffy and pretty, like Peter Piper's children. They were just sprawling little bits of crow-life, so helpless that i

wn to the end of their red throats. Oh, the food that got stuffed into them! Good and nourishing, every bit of it; for a proper diet is as important to a bird baby as to a human one. Juicy caterpillars-a lot of them: enough to eat up a whole berry-patch if the crows hadn't found them; nutty-flavored grasshoppers-a lot o

rse, it would not occur to a crow that he didn't have a perfect right to take such food for himself and his young as he could find in his day's hunting. Indeed, it is not unlikely that, if a crow did any real thinking a

s close by, and slipping up carefully between the branches, to be sure no enemy was following their movements. Then they would greet their babies with a comforting low "Caw," which seemed to mean, "Never fear, little ones, we've brought you a very good treat." Yes, they were shy,

ld about may guess, without being a bit clever, where the nest is. A good thing it is for th

eyed Boy and the Blue-eyed Girl climbed way, way, way up that big tree and looked into the round little room up there. There was no furniture-none at all. Just one bare nurser

tle birds, and, choosing Corbie, put him into his hat and climbed down with him. He was a nimble sor

indeed! He was almost as helpless and quite as floppy as a human baby, and he needed as good care, too. He needed warmth enough and food enough and a clean nest to live

taken away from his home and the lo

eyed Girl adopted the little chap, and gave him food enough and warmth enough and a

throat was very red and very hollow, and seemed ready to swallow no end of fresh raw egg and bits of raw beef and earthworms and bread soaked in milk. Not that he had to ha

cks out of the tip of the case, does look very much like the soft hairs at the end of a paint-brush, the kind that has a hollow quill stem, you know. After they were once started, dear me, how those fe

ood, he stood on his whole foot way back to the heel, which looks like a knee, only it bends the wrong way. When he was about three weeks old, howev

went for his first ramble. He stepped out of his nest-box, which had been placed on top of a flat, low shed, and strolled up the steep roof of the woodshed, which was within reach. There he stood on the r

elled, "Kah!" in a tone that meant, "Bring me m

dge of the low roof, where the nest-box had been placed,

s, maybe he couldn't walk down the roof it had been so easy to run up. Anyway, his voice began

on the ridge-pole of a steep roof. So the long ladder had to be brought out, and the crow

onth-old baby found most of his fun for a while in being fed. "Kah! Kah! Kah!" he called from sun-up to sun-down, keeping the Brown-eyed Boy and the Blue-eyed Girl

he called from su

e most wonderful, somehow. Yes, he could feed himself long before he let his foster brother and sister know it; and I think,

ie would listen until he could hear no one near, and then cock his bright eye down over the wriggling worms. Then, very slyly, he would pick one up with a jerk and catch it back into his mouth. One by one he would eat the worms, until he wanted no more; and then he would hide the rest by poking them into cracks or covering them wit

e stopped his constant begging for food. The days of his greed were only the days of his

eous bits of color that it was such fun to find hidden under the big green leaves! He strutted to the flower-garden, and pulled off all the yellow pansies, piling them in a heap. He jumped for the golden buttercups

was all his own or in part his grandfather's, it was a wonderful dance, so full of joy that the Brown-eyed Boy and the Blue-eyed Gir

g about the yard, he danced. But most and best he danced on a hot day when he was given a bright basin of water. Singing a lively chattering tune, he came to his bath. He cocked one bright eye and then the

ed to see him, and the Grown-Ups laughed. And even as they laughed, their hearts danced with the little black crow-he made them feel so very glad about the bath. For he had been too warm and was now comfortable. The summer sun on h

enough to keep a crow in the dooryar

near by and screamed, "Caw," quite suddenly, as one child says, "Boo," to another, to surprise him. Then the bird sang his chatter tune, and found a shallow place near the bank, where he splashed and bathed. After that, the Blue-eyed Girl showed him a l

or their eyes were only the eyes of children and his bright bird eyes could find them twice as fast. So he waded in the river, playing "I s

joy, and at times he made a game of it that was fun for them all. Every now and then he would go off quietly by himself, and fill the hollow of his throat with berries from the bushes near the river-bank and, flying back to his friends, would spill out his fruit, uncrushed, in a litt

rhead and dropped it down on the rocks near by. Of course that broke the shell and of course Corbie came down and ate the clam, without needing any vinegar or butter on it to make it taste good to him. How he learned to do this, the children never knew. Perhaps he found out by just happening to dro

rs and crabs, and he had many an exciting hunt, poking under

he hollow tree where he kept his best treasures. Sometimes it worked like a nut-cracker, sometimes like a pair of forceps, and sometimes-oh, you can think of a dozen tools that beak of Corbie's was like. He was as well off as if he had a whole carpenter's chest with him all the time. But mostly it served like a child's thumb and forefinger, to pick berries, or to untie the bright hair-ribbons of

o one tenth so many things with our mouths as Corbie could with his. To be sure, we do not need to, for we have hands to

ed off and a

can I do now to amuse me?" Never once. His brain was so active that he could fill every place and every hour full to the brim of interest. He had a merry way about him, and a gay chatter that seemed to mean, "Oh, life to a crow is joy! JOY!" And because of all this, it was no

he had chummed with-when it was the time of dusk, little Corbie sought the one he loved best of all, the one who had been most gentle with him, and snuggli

warm the cr

ff of his mot

eeps, for she

e owl that f

wings have f

t matter i

ray, till agai

e owl that f

ht the Blue-eyed Girl and her brother and the Grown-Ups, too, something about crows that many people never even guess. For all their rollicking care-free ways, there is, hidden be

s like that, which were needed in the house. The bright penny someone had given him, the shiny nails, the brass-headed tacks, the big white feather, the yellow marble, all the bits of colored glass, and an old watch, they left where he put them; for they thought that he lo

er he was homely again. His little side-feather moustache dropped out at the top of his beak, so that his nostrils were uncovere

t all over him. But it was worth the discomforts of the molt to have the new feather coat, all shiny black; and Co

at showed like a long blue ridge against the sky. They flew across a road that looked, on account of the color of the dirt, like a pinkish-red ribbon stretching off and away. They left the river-edge and th

the folk who had adopted him. A thousand wild crows might come and go, calling in their flig

to him; and that is why I said, the day he was kidn