With the coming of Monday arrived a new life for David--a curious life full of "don'ts"and "dos."David wondered sometimes why all the pleasant things were "don'ts"and all the unpleasant ones "dos."Corn to be hoed,weeds to be pulled,woodboxes to be filled;with all these it was "do this,do this,do this."But when it came to lying under the apple trees,exploring the brook that ran by the field,or even watching the bugs and worms that one found in the earth--all these were "don'ts."As to Farmer Holly--Farmer Holly himself awoke to some new experiences that Monday morning.One of them was the difficulty in successfully combating the cheerfully expressed opinion that weeds were so pretty growing that it was a pity to pull them up and let them all wither and die.Another was the equally great difficulty of keeping a small boy at useful labor of any sort in the face of the attractions displayed by a passing cloud,a blossoming shrub,or a bird singing on a tree-branch.
In spite of all this,however,David so evidently did his best to carry out the "dos"and avoid the "don'ts,"that at four o'clock that first Monday he won from the stern but would-be-just Farmer Holly his freedom for the rest of the day;and very gayly he set off for a walk.He went without his violin,as there was the smell of rain in the air;but his face and his step and the very swing of his arms were singing (to David)the joyous song of the morning before.Even yet,in spite of the vicissitudes of the day's work,the whole world,to David's homesick,lonely little heart,was still caroling that blessed "You're wanted,you're wanted,you're wanted!"And then he saw the crow.
David knew crows.In his home on the mountain he had had several of them for friends.He had learned to know and answer their calls.He had learned to admire their wisdom and to respect their moods and tempers.He loved to watch them.Especially he loved to see the great birds cut through the air with a wide sweep of wings,so alive,so gloriously free!
But this crow--
This crow was not cutting through the air with a wide sweep of wing.It was in the middle of a cornfield,and it was rising and falling and flopping about in a most extraordinary fashion.Very soon David,running toward it,saw why.By a long leather strip it was fastened securely to a stake in the ground.
"Oh,oh,oh!"exclaimed David,in sympathetic consternation.
"Here,you just wait a minute.I'll fix it."
With confident celerity David whipped out his jackknife to cut the thong;but he found then that to "fix it"and to say he would "fix it"were two different matters.
The crow did not seem to recognize in David a friend.He saw in him,apparently,but another of the stone-throwing,gun-shooting,torturing humans who were responsible for his present hateful captivity.With beak and claw and wing,therefore,he fought this new evil that had come presumedly to torment;and not until David had hit upon the expedient of taking off his blouse,and throwing it over the angry bird,could the boy get near enough to accomplish his purpose.Even then David had to leave upon the slender leg a twist of leather.
A moment later,with a whir of wings and a frightened squawk that quickly turned into a surprised caw of triumphant rejoicing,the crow soared into the air and made straight for a distant tree-top.David,after a minute's glad surveying of his work,donned his blouse again and resumed his walk.
It was almost six o'clock when David got back to the Holly farmhouse.In the barn doorway sat Perry Larson.
"Well,sonny,"the man greeted him cheerily,"did ye get yer weedin'done?""Y--yes,"hesitated David."I got it done;but I didn't like it.""'T is kinder hot work."
"Oh,I didn't mind that part,"returned David."What I didn't like was pulling up all those pretty little plants and letting them die.""Weeds--'pretty little plants'!"ejaculated the man."Well,I'll be jiggered!""But they WERE pretty,"defended David,reading aright the scorn in Perry Larson's voice."The very prettiest and biggest there were,always.Mr.Holly showed me,you know,--and I had to pull them up.""Well,I'll be jiggered!"muttered Perry Larson again.
"But I've been to walk since.I feel better now.""Oh,ye do!"
"Oh,yes.I had a splendid walk.I went 'way up in the woods on the hill there.I was singing all the time--inside,you know.Iwas so glad Mrs.Holly--wanted me.You know what it is,when you sing inside."Perry Larson scratched his head.
"Well,no,sonny,I can't really say I do,"he retorted."I ain't much on singin'.""Oh,but I don't mean aloud.I mean inside.When you're happy,you know.""When I'm--oh!"The man stopped and stared,his mouth falling open.Suddenly his face changed,and he grinned appreciatively.
"Well,if you ain't the beat 'em,boy!'T is kinder like singin'--the way ye feel inside,when yer 'specially happy,ain't it?But I never thought of it before.""Oh,yes.Why,that's where I get my songs--inside of me,you know--that I play on my violin.And I made a crow sing,too.Only HE sang outside.""SING--A CROW!"scoffed the man."Shucks!It'll take more 'n you ter make me think a crow can sing,my lad.""But they do,when they're happy,"maintained the boy."Anyhow,it doesn't sound the same as it does when they're cross,or plagued over something.You ought to have heard this one to-day.
He sang.He was so glad to get away.I let him loose,you see.""You mean,you CAUGHT a crow up there in them woods?"The man's voice was skeptical.
"Oh,no,I didn't catch it.But somebody had,and tied him up.
And he was so unhappy!"
"A crow tied up in the woods!"
"Oh,I didn't find THAT in the woods.It was before I went up the hill at all.""A crow tied up--Look a-here,boy,what are you talkin'about?
Where was that crow?"Perry Larson's whole self had become suddenly alert.
"In the field 'Way over there.And somebody--""The cornfield!Jingo!Boy,you don't mean you touched THATcrow?"
