emones
and last year's dried leaves, she tilted her sleek crested head and
peered at him with frightened wonder and silent helplessness.

It was for this the Cardinal had waited, hoped, and planned for many
days. He had rehearsed what he conceived to be every point of the
situation, and yet he was not prepared for the thing that suddenly
happened to him. He had expected to reject many applicants before he
selected one to match his charms; but instantly this shy little
creature, slipping along near earth, taking a surreptitious peep at
him, made him feel a very small bird, and he certainly never before had
felt small. The crushing possibility that somewhere there might be a
cardinal that was larger, brighter, and a finer musician than he,
staggered him; and worst of all, his voice broke suddenly to his
complete embarrassment.

Half screened by the flowers, she seemed so little, so shy, so
delightfully sweet. He "chipped" carefully once or twice to steady
himself and clear his throat, for unaccountably it had grown dry and
husky; and then he tenderly tried again. "Come here! Come here!"
implored the Cardinal. He forgot all about his dignity. He knew that
his voice was trembling with eagerness and hoarse with fear. He was
afraid to attempt approaching her, but he leaned toward her, begging
and pleading. He teased and insisted, and he did not care a particle
if he did. It suddenly seemed an honour to coax her. He rocked on the
limb. He side-stepped and hopped and gyrated gracefully. He fluffed
and flirted and showed himself to every advantage. It never occurred
to him that the dove and the woodpecker might be watching, though he
would not have cared in the least if they had been; and as for any
other cardinal, he would have attacked the combined forces of the
Limberlost and Rainbow Bottom.

He sang and sang. Every impulse of passion in his big, crimson,
palpitating body was thrown into those notes; but she only turned her
head from side to side, peering at him, seeming sufficiently frightened
to flee at a breath, and answered not even the faintest little "Chook!"
of encouragement.

The Cardinal rested a second before he tried again. That steadied him
and gave him better command of himself. He could tell that his notes
were clearing and growing sweeter. He was improving. Perhaps she was
interested. There was some encouragement in the fact that she was
still there. The Cardinal felt that his time had