Jim Crow Runs Away

AT last Jim got so tame that Twinkle took the cord off his leg and let
him go free, wherever he pleased. So he wandered all over the house and
out into the yard, where he chased the ducks and bothered the pigs and
made himself generally disliked. He had a way of perching upon the back
of old Tom, papa's favorite horse, and chattering away in Tom's ear
until the horse plunged and pranced in his stall to get rid of his
unwelcome visitor.

Twinkle always kept the bandage on the wounded wing, for she didn't know
whether it was well yet, or not, and she thought it was better to be on
the safe side. But the truth was, that Jim Crow's wing had healed long
ago, and was now as strong as ever; and, as the weeks passed by, and he
grew big and fat, a great longing came into his wild heart to fly again--
far, far up into the air and away to the lands where there were forests
of trees and brooks of running water.

He didn't ever expect to rejoin his family again. They were far enough
away by this time. And he didn't care much to associate with other
crows. All he wanted was to be free, and do exactly as he pleased, and
not have some one cuffing him a dozen times a day because he was doing
wrong.

So one morning, before Twinkle was up, or even awake, Jim Crow pecked at
the bandage on his wing until he got the end unfastened, and then it
wasn't long before the entire strip of cloth was loosened and fell to
the ground.

Now Jim fluttered his feathers, and pruned them with his long bill where
they had been pressed together, and presently he knew that the wing
which had been injured was exactly as strong and well as the other one.
He could fly away whenever he pleased.

The crow had been well fed by Twinkle and her mamma, and was in splendid
health. But he was not at all grateful. With the knowledge of his
freedom a fierce, cruel joy crept into his heart, and he resumed the
wild nature that crows are born with and never lay aside as long as they
live.

Having forgotten in an instant that he had ever been tame, and the pet
of a gentle little girl, Jim Crow had no thought of saying good-bye to
Twinkle. Instead, he decided he would do something that would make these
foolish humans remember him for a long time. So he dashed into a group
of young chickens that had only been hatched a day or two before, and
killed seven of them with his strong, curved claws and his wicked black
beak. When the mother hen flew at hi