d in his memory and refused to be forgotten. He
had advised the Crow to gather up the feathers which had fallen from the
Peacock's plumage and to make himself fine with them. First the Crow
remembered these words sadly, because they showed the unkind heart of
his old friend. Next he remembered them with scorn, because they showed
vanity. Then he remembered them with interest because they gave him an
idea. And that idea gradually grew bigger and bigger until it became a
plan.

The plan came to him completely one day while he was sitting moodily on
a tree watching the Peacock and his cousin sweeping proudly over the
velvet lawn of the King's garden. For nowadays the Pheasant moved in the
most courtly circles, as he had promised himself. As they passed under
the Crow two beautiful feathers fell behind them and lay on the grass
shining in the sunlight with a hundred colors.

"Once more the cast-off plumage of the Peacock family is left for me!"
croaked the Crow to himself. "Am I only to be made beautiful by
borrowing from others? Perhaps I might collect feathers enough from all
the birds to conceal my inky coat. Aha! I have it." And this was the
plan of the Crow. He would steal from every dweller in Birdland a
feather, and see whether he could not make himself more beautiful than
the Peacock's cousin himself.

Now the Crow was a skilful thief. He could steal the silver off the
King's table from under the steward's very nose. He could steal a maid's
thimble from her finger as she nodded sleepily over her work. He could
steal the pen from behind a scribe's ear, as he paused to scratch his
head and think over the spelling of a word. So the Crow felt sure that
he could steal their feathers from the birds without any trouble.

When the Peacock and his cousin had passed by, the Crow swooped down and
carried off the two feathers which were to begin his collection. He hid
them in his treasure-house in the hollow tree, and started out for more.

It was great fun for the Crow, and he almost forgot to be miserable. He
followed old lady Ostrich about for some time before he dared tweak a
handful of feathers from her tail. But finally he succeeded; and though
she squawked horribly and turned, quick as a flash, she was not quick
enough to catch the nimble thief, who was already hidden under a bush.
In the same way he secured some lovely plumes from the Bird of
Paradise, the Parrot, and the Cock. He robbed the Redbreast of his ruddy