“Tt’s hot! It’s hot!’ warned the crow. 
“Pll make it hot for you, you old black ras- 
cal,” said Pete, shaking his finger at him. 
It was too far to the ground for Jim to at- 
tempt to fly, so he had to stand there while the 
old colored man came on. There in the crotch 
of the tree he found a wonderful collection. 
There were a small pair of scissors, two or three 
pieces of broken china, a fragment of an old tin 
horn, a belt buckle, and the recently acquired — 
thimble. 
“Look hyar, Crow,” exclaimed Uncle Pete 
in evident surprise; “whar did you git all 
dem purty things at?) Youcertainly isa thievin’ 
chile, and you'll come to a bad end yit. You 
better quit foolin’ wid dat owl, too,” he added; 
“he may git you yit!”’ 
However, Pete respected the bird’s  sanc- 
tuary, and aside from taking the scissors and 
thimble, he in no wise disturbed the precious 
collection, which I have reason to believe grew 
from time to time as its owner discovered 
new objects of interest that he could carry - 
away. 
139 
