s taken from him.

"Crono transformed Eilene into a snarling black cat which now
always accompanies her on her Halloween rides when she tells the
grinning Jack-o'-Lanterns of how she captured Eilene.

"Because Mr. Moon loved Eilene so well, Crono gave him a picture
of the fairy, which he always keeps near him, and even to this
day, if we look up at the moon, we can see the picture of
Eilene. So let us remember that, although the black cat does
appear fierce, she is really good at heart."

VI The Crow and the Scarecrow

When corn was sprouting, "Crows and Scarecrows" was announced as a
topic, and one Irish lad, giving rein to his imagination, wrote:--

THE CROW AND THE SCARECROW

"Having a story to write concerning a crow, I decided to go to
the zoological gardens and seek an interview with one of the
species. Accordingly I went, and after passing numerous cages
containing all kinds of animals, I arrived at the bird cages.
Here in one cage all by himself I met Mr. Crow. He was a big
bird with coal-black feathers that glistened in the sunlight.

"I made a bow, explained my errand and asked for a story. He
cocked his head to one side, looked steadily for a few seconds
and then actually winked at me. 'Well, young man,' he said in a
throaty voice, 'you have certainly come to the right place. But
as it is near my lunch time I must be brief.

"'In the first place, I was the leader of as wild and
mischievous a band of crows as you ever heard tell of. There was
one particular farm in our territory we loved to visit. The
owner's name was Silas Whimple and he was the grouchiest, most
miserly man in the county. He lived alone and what part of the
ground that was tilled, he did it himself. As much to tease as
to eat, we would pay him an occasional flying visit, digging up
his newly planted seeds, nibbling at the young green shoots, or,
later on, scratching up his potatoes. All his shouting and
screaming did not scare us a bit. One day one of my companions
came winging with the news that Silas had a farm hand. I laughed
and said, "If there is another man on the farm then Silas
Whimple must be dead." Off we flew to investigate. Sure enough,
out in a patch of potatoes was a man. Watching him quite a
while, I saw he did not move or make a noise as Silas would. He
just stood still. I