BIRD STORIES 



Of course, coming from a family like that, Corbie was 

 sure to be remarkable; for there is no doubt at all that 

 we inherit many traits of our ancestors. 



Corbie knew very little about his own father and 

 mother, for he was adopted into a white family when 

 he was ten days old, and a baby at that age does not 

 remember much. 



Although he was too young to realize it, those first ten 

 days after he had come out of his shell, and those before 

 that, while he was growing inside his shell, were in some 

 ways the most important of his life, for it was then that 

 he needed the most tender and skillful care. Well, he 

 had it ; for the gentleness and skill of Father and Mother 

 Crow left nothing to be desired. They had built the 

 best possible nest for their needs by placing strong 

 sticks criss-cross high up in an old pine tree. For a lining 

 they had stripped soft stringy bark from a wild grape- 

 vine, and had finished off with a bit of still softer dried 

 grass. 



In this Mother Crow had laid her five bluish-green 

 eggs marked with brown ; and she and Father Crow had 

 shared, turn and turn about, the long task of keeping 

 their babies inside those beautiful shells warm enough so 

 that they could grow. 



And grow they did, into five as homely little objects 

 as ever broke their way out of good-looking eggshells. 



102 



