and went home
peeping sadly to their silly mother. And Mrs. Partridge had no more
sense than to be angry with Madame Tortoise, which I think was very
unfair, don't you? For the latter had only done as she was bidden by her
silly and conceited neighbor.

But after that the Tortoise and the Partridge never spoke to each other,
and their children would not play together at school.

THE EARLY GIRL

There were once two girls who were very dear friends, Zaica and
Tourtourelle. One morning Zaica woke up and said, "O Tourtourelle! Last
night I had such a strange dream!"

"And so did I!" cried Tourtourelle. "Let us tell each other the dreams.
But you first, Zaica."

Zaica began to laugh. "I dreamed I was a pretty bird with a tuft of
feathers on my head. I could fly, and, O Tourtourelle! it was great fun!
But the most amusing thing of all was that I could sing so finely, and
mock all the birds of the forest. Nay, I could even imitate the sounds
of animals. I cannot help laughing when I think what a jolly time I
had."

"Why, Zaica!" cried Tourtourelle, wondering, "I dreamed the very same
thing. I too was a pretty little bird, and I too could imitate all kinds
of sounds as I fluttered in the tree-tops. Surely, the dream will come
true for one of us. How fine that would be!"

"Yes, let it be for the one of us who first rises to-morrow morning,"
said Zaica. And so the two friends agreed.

Now when it came night-time Zaica went to bed very early, like a wise
little girl who wants to rise with the sun. But Tourtourelle said to
herself, "I know what I will do, I will not go to sleep. I will sit up
all night, and then I am sure to be the first to rise."

So Tourtourelle perched herself on a high-backed chair and stretched her
eyes wide open. For hours and hours she sat there, growing more sleepy
every minute. Towards morning she began to nod; she could hardly keep
her eyes open, though she tried to prop the lids with her finger tips.
Finally, whether she would or no, she fell fast asleep, poor little
Tourtourelle, worn out with her long vigil.

When the first morning sunbeam peeped into the chamber Zaica opened her
eyes, refreshed and smiling. She sat up in bed remembering the dream,
and then jumped lightly to the floor. As she did so she glanced at her
feet, which felt queer. Wonderful! They were little bird claws! She
looked down at herself. She was covered with soft feathers. She tried to
move her arms, and when s