course, you can guess what that meant. It meant--yes, it meant that
Corbie was getting ready to leave his nest; and before the Brown-eyed
Boy and the Blue-eyed Girl really knew what was happening, Corbie 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 ridge-pole, the
little tike, and yelled, "Caw," in almost a grown-up way, as if he felt
proud and happy. Perhaps he did for a while. It really was a trip to be
proud of for one's very first walk in the world.

But the exercise made him hungry, and he soon yelled, "Kah!" in a tone
that meant, "Bring me my luncheon this minute or I'll beg till you do."

The Brown-eyed Boy took a dish of bread and milk to the edge of the low
roof, where the nest-box had been placed, and the Blue-eyed Girl called,
"Come and get it, Corbie."

Not Corbie! He had always had his meals brought to him. He liked
service, that crow. And besides, maybe he _couldn't_ walk down the roof
it had been so easy to run up. Anyway, his voice began to sound as if he
were scared as well as hungry, and later as if he were more scared than
hungry.

Now it stood to reason that Corbie's meals could not be served him every
fifteen minutes on the ridge-pole of a steep roof. So the long ladder
had to be brought out, and the crow carried to the ground and advised to
keep within easy reach until he could use his wings.

It was only a few days until Corbie could fly down from anything he
could climb up; and from that hour he never lacked for amusement. Of
course, the greedy little month-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 busy digging
earthworms and cutworms and white grubs, and soaking bread in milk for
him. "Gubble-gubble-gubble," he said as he swallowed it--it was all so
very good.

[Illustration: _"Kah! Kah! Kah!" he called from sun-up to sun-down._]

The joke of it was that Corbie, even then, had a secret--his first one.
He had many later on. But the very first one seems the most wonderful,
somehow. Yes, he could feed himself long before he let his foster
brother and sister know it; and I think, had he been a wild crow instead
of a tame one, he would have fooled his own father and mother the same
way--the little rascal.

No one would t