vest, the Hoopoe of his crown, and he secured a swallow-tail which he
had long coveted. He took some rosy-redness from the Flamingo, the
gilding of the Goldfinch, the gray down of an Eider-Duck. He burgled the
Bluebird and the Redbird and the Yellowbird; and not one single
feathered creature escaped his clever beak. At last his hole in the tree
was brimming with feathers of every color, length, and degree of
softness, a gorgeous feather-bed on which it would dazzle one to sleep.
Then the Crow set to work to make himself a coat of many colors, like
Joseph's. He was a very clever bird, and a wondrous coat it turned out
to be. It had no particular cut nor style; it was not like the coat
which any bird had ever before worn. The feathers were placed in any
fashion that happened to please his original fancy. Some pointed up and
some down; some were straight and some were curled; some drooped about
his feet and others curved gracefully over his head; some trailed far
behind. He was completely covered from top to toe, so that not one blot
of his own inky feathers showed through the gorgeousness. A red vest he
wore, and a swallow-tail, of course, and there was a crown of feathers
on his head. Never was there seen a more extraordinary bird nor one more
gaudy. Perhaps he was not in the best of taste, but at least he was
striking.
When all was finished the Crow went and looked at himself in the
fountain mirror; and he was much pleased.
"Well now!" he cried. "How am I for a bird? I believe no one will know
me, and that is just as well; for now I am so fine that I shall myself
refuse to know any one. Ho! This ought to give some ideas to that
conceited Peacock family! I am a self-made man. I am an artist who knows
how to adapt his materials. I am a genius. King Solomon himself will
wonder at my glory. And as for the Eagle, King of the Birds, he will
grow pale with envy. King of the Birds, indeed! It is now I who should
rightfully be King. No other ever wore clothes so fine as mine. By right
of them I ought to be King of the Birds. I _will_ be King of the Birds!"
You see the poor old Crow was quite crazy with his one idea.
Forth he stalked into Birdland to show his gorgeous plumage and to get
himself elected King of the Birds. The first persons he met were the
Peacock and his cousin,--he who was once the Crow's best friend. The
Crow ruffled himself his prettiest when he saw them coming.
"Good gracious! Who is that extraordin
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