ay. She took a dainty hop
toward the dogwood, and the invitation she sent him was exquisite.
With a shrill whistle of exultant triumph the Cardinal answered at a
headlong rush.

The farmer's grip tightened on his wife's shoulder, but Maria turned
toward him with blazing, tear-filled eyes. "An' you call yourself a
decent man, Abram Johnson?"

"Decent?" quavered the astonished Abram. "Decent? I believe I am."

"I believe you ain't," hotly retorted his wife. "You don't know what
decency is, if you go peekin' at them. They ain't birds! They're
folks!"

"Maria," pled Abram, "Maria, honey."

"I am plumb ashamed of you," broke in Maria. "How d'you s'pose she'd
feel if she knew there was a man here peekin' at her? Ain't she got a
right to be lovin' and tender? Ain't she got a right to pay him best
she knows? They're jest common human bein's, an' I don't know where
you got privilege to spy on a female when she's doin' the best she
knows."

Maria broke from his grasp and started down the line fence.

In a few strides Abram had her in his arms, his withered cheek with its
springtime bloom pressed against her equally withered, tear-stained one.

"Maria," he whispered, waveringly, "Maria, honey, I wasn't meanin' any
disrespect to the sex."

Maria wiped her eyes on the corner of her shawl. "I don't s'pose you
was, Abram," she admitted; "but you're jest like all the rest o' the
men. You never think! Now you go on with your plowin' an' let that
little female alone."

She unclasped his arms and turned homeward.

"Honey," called Abram softly, "since you brought 'em that pocketful o'
wheat, you might as well let me have it."

"Landy!" exclaimed Maria, blushing; "I plumb forgot my wheat! I
thought maybe, bein' so early, pickin' was scarce, an' if you'd put out
a little wheat an' a few crumbs, they'd stay an' nest in the sumac, as
you're so fond o' them."

"Jest what I'm fairly prayin' they'll do, an' I been carryin' stuff an'
pettin' him up best I knowed for a week," said Abram, as he knelt, and
cupped his shrunken hands, while Maria guided the wheat from her apron
into them. "I'll scatter it along the top rail, an' they'll be after
it in fifteen minutes. Thank you, Maria. 'T was good o' you to think
of it."

Maria watched him steadily. How dear he was! How dear he always had
been! How happy they were together! "Abram," she asked, hesitatingly,
"is there anything else I could do for--your birds?"

Th