t venturing for a few dips. When she was wet
she could not fly well, and he improved the opportunity to pull her
broken quills, help her dress herself, and bestow a few extra caresses.
He guided her to his favourite place for a sun bath; and followed the
farmer's plow in the corn field until he found a big sweet beetle. He
snapped off its head, peeled the stiff wing shields, and daintily
offered it to her. He was so delighted when she took it from his beak,
and remained in the sumac to eat it, that he established himself on an
adjoining thorn-bush, where the snowy blossoms of a wild morning-glory
made a fine background for his scarlet coat. He sang the old pleading
song as he never had sung it before, for now there was a tinge of hope
battling with the fear in his heart.

Over and over he sang, rounding, fulling, swelling every note, leaning
toward her in coaxing tenderness, flashing his brilliant beauty as he
swayed and rocked, for her approval; and all that he had suffered and
all that he hoped for was in his song. Just when his heart was growing
sick within him, his straining ear caught the faintest, most timid call
a lover ever answered. Only one imploring, gentle "Chook!" from the
sumac! His song broke in a suffocating burst of exultation.
Cautiously he hopped from twig to twig toward her. With tender throaty
murmurings he slowly edged nearer, and wonder of wonders! with tired
eyes and quivering wings, she reached him her beak for a kiss.

At dinner that day, the farmer said to his wife:

"Maria, if you want to hear the prettiest singin', an' see the cutest
sight you ever saw, jest come down along the line fence an' watch the
antics o' that redbird we been hearin'."

"I don't know as redbirds are so scarce 'at I've any call to wade
through slush a half-mile to see one," answered Maria.

"Footin's pretty good along the line fence," said Abram, "an' you never
saw a redbird like this fellow. He's as big as any two common ones.
He's so red every bush he lights on looks like it was afire. It's past
all question, he's been somebody's pet, an' he's taken me for the man.
I can get in six feet of him easy. He's the finest bird I ever set
eyes on; an' as for singin', he's dropped the weather, an' he's askin'
folks to his housewarmin' to-day. He's been there alone for a week,
an' his singin's been first-class; but to-day he's picked up a mate,
an' he's as tickled as ever I was. I am really consarned for fear