Now you would never suspect Blacky the Crow, he of the sharp wits andcrafty ways, of being amused by bright things, would you? But he is. Infact, Blacky is quite like a little child in this matter. Anything thatis bright and shiny interests Blacky right away. If he finds anything ofthis kind, he will take it away to a certain secret place, and there hewill admire it and play with it and finally hide it. If I didn't knowthat it isn't so, because it couldn't possibly be so, I should thinkthat Blacky was some relation to certain small boys I know. Always theirpockets are filled with all sorts of useless odds and ends which theyhave picked up here and there. Blacky has no pockets, so he keeps histreasures of this kind in a secret hiding-place, a sort of treasurestorehouse. He visits this secretly every day, uncovers his treasures,and gloats over them and plays with them, then carefully covers them upagain. First Blacky took this egg over near his home, and there heonce more tried and tried and tried to break the shell. But the shellwouldn't break, not even when Blacky quite lost his temper and hammeredat it for all he was worth. Then he gave the thing up as a bad matterand flew up to his favorite roost in the top of a tall pine-tree,leaving the egg on the ground. But from where he sat on his favoriteroost in the tall pine-tree he could see that provoking egg, a littlespot of shining white. When a Jolly Little Sunbeam found it and restedon it, it was so very bright and shiny that Blacky couldn't keep hiseyes off it.
Little by little he forgot that it was an egg. At least, he forgot thathe wanted to eat it. He began to find pleasure in just looking at it. Itmight not satisfy his stomach, but it certainly was very satisfying tohis eyes. He forgot to think of it as a thing to eat, but began to thinkof it wholly as a thing to look at and admire. He was glad he hadn'tbeen able to break that shell.
Once more he spread his black wings and flew down to the egg. He cockedhis head to one side and looked at it. He cocked his head to the otherside and looked at it. He walked all around it, chuckling and saying tohimself, "Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty and all mine, mine, mine, mine!Pretty, pretty, and all mine!"
Than he craftily looked all about to make sure that no one was watchinghim. Having made quite sure, he rolled the egg over and turned it aroundand admired it to his heart's content. At last he picked it up andcarried it to his treasure-house and covered it over very carefully. Andthere that china nest-egg, for that is what he had stolen, is still hischief treasure to this day, and Blacky still sometimes wonders what kindof a hen laid such a hard-shelled egg.
Blacky has had very many other adventures, but it would take anotherbook to tell about all of them. That would be hardly fair to some of theother little people who also have had adventures and want them told toyou. One of these is a beautiful little fellow who lives in the GreenForest, and so the next book will be Whitefoot the Wood Mouse.
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