tter. But
when she caught sight of the cowbird on the shelf before the row of big
brothers, she did not join in the merriment. Instead, she turned very
white and crept back to bed again without a word, taking the cowbird
with her, cuddled under her arm.

* * * * *

WHEN the sun stood over the farm-house and the frost was gone from the
plains, the little girl climbed upon her pony's back and, with the
cowbird perched on her shoulder, started northward up the river. Her
face was whiter than it had been that morning, and she had no happy
chatter with which to answer him as he chirruped to her gaily and leaned
forward from time to time to peck at her teeth. Her ears were still
ringing with her big brothers' laughter, and with the pitiless command
that had driven the cowbird forth to the prairies again--a wing-clipped
tramp and an outcast! Straight on she rode to the river meadows where
the cowbird colonies lived.

Once there, she got down carefully from her horse and, after placing her
pet gently upon a stone, took from her pockets a crust, part of a
shriveled apple, a chunk of gingerbread, and a cold boiled potato. These
she placed in front of him on the ground. Then she took him up, parted
her lips to let him peck her teeth once more, held him against her
breast for a long, bitterly sad moment, and mounting, rode away.

When she was only a rod or so from him, the cowbird tried to follow. But
his maimed wings would not obey, and he fell back to the ground again
and again. Then he walked a few steps after the retreating pony, and,
finding that the little girl was getting farther and farther away every
moment, hopped upon a big rock beside the road, and called after her
pleadingly.

"Look-see! look-see!" he cried, rolling his eyes and swelling his
shining throat; "look-see! look-see!"

But the little girl rode straight on, and never looked back to see.

V

THE MISFIT SCHOLAR

IT was only a little way to the school-house in the winter-time because
the big brothers could cross the chain of sloughs to it on their skates;
but, in the autumn, before the ice was thick, the path led snake-like
beside the eastern border of the water, just skirting the frill of green
bulrushes and tall marsh-grass, and it was a long distance.

The school-house stood in a wide glade that was the favorite
grazing-spot of a band of antelope. It was narrow and unpainted, with
two windows on each side an