is
eyes with smoke. He seemed like to be roasted alive in this horrible
underground oven. But oh, there was the hole close before him! Pouf!
With a terrible roar the dragon snapped at him as Whitebird popped
through the hole; but he got only a mouthful of burnt tail-feathers.
Whitebird was safe, safe in the narrow passage where the dragon could
not follow. Up and up and up and up he feebly fluttered into the light
of the dear outside world, and then he gave a chirp of joy to find that
he really had escaped. But oh, how tired and frightened he was!

Mother Magpie was sitting on a bush waiting for him, for she had guessed
what would happen to the greedy bird. And when she saw him she gave a
squawk of laughter.

"O Whitebird," she chuckled, "what a sight! what a sight! Your lovely
coat, your spotless feathers! Oh, you greedy, greedy _Blackbird_!"

Then he who had been Whitebird looked down at himself and saw what a
dreadful thing had happened. And he closed his eyes and gave a hoarse,
sad croak. For the smoke and flame of the dragon's breath had smirched
and scorched him from top to toe, so that he was no longer white, but
thenceforth and forever Blackbird.

I think Mother Magpie must have told the story to her children,
chuckling over the greedy fellow's failure. And they told it to the
children of sunny France, from whom I got the tale for you. So now you
know why the Blackbird looks so solemn and so sulky in his suit of rusty
black; and why his nerves are so weak that if one suddenly surprises
him, picking up seeds in the field, he gives a terrible scream of
fright. For he thinks one is that dreadful dragon-creature who chased
him and so nearly gobbled him on that unlucky day, long ago.

Poor Brother Blackbird! Don't let him know I told you all this; it would
make him so very much ashamed.

THE BLACKBIRD AND THE FOX

One day Madame Fox, who was strolling along under the hedge, heard a
Blackbird trilling on a branch. Quick as thought she jumped and seized
the little fellow, and was about to gobble him down then and there. But
the Blackbird began to chirp piteously:--

"Oh, oh, Madame Fox! What are you thinking of? Just see, I am such a
tiny mouthful! And when I am gone--I am gone. Only let me free and I
will tell you something. Look! Here come some peasant women with eggs
and cheese which they are carrying to the market at Verrieres. That
would be a meal worth having! Only let me go, and I will help you,