well, and he improved the opportunity to pull her broken quills,
help her dress herself, and bestow a few extra caresses. He
guided her to his favourite place for a sun bath; and followed
the farmer's plow in the corn field until he found a big sweet
beetle. He snapped off its head, peeled the stiff wing shields,
and daintily offered it to her. He was so delighted when she
took it from his beak, and remained in the sumac to eat it, that
he established himself on an adjoining thorn-bush, where the
snowy blossoms of a wild morning-glory made a fine background for
his scarlet coat. He sang the old pleading song as he never had
sung it before, for now there was a tinge of hope battling with
the fear in his heart.

Over and over he sang, rounding, fulling, swelling every note,
leaning toward her in coaxing tenderness, flashing his brilliant
beauty as he swayed and rocked, for her approval; and all that he
had suffered and all that he hoped for was in his song. Just
when his heart was growing sick within him, his straining ear
caught the faintest, most timid call a lover ever answered. Only
one imploring, gentle "Chook!" from the sumac! His song broke in
a suffocating burst of exultation. Cautiously he hopped from
twig to twig toward her. With tender throaty murmurings he
slowly edged nearer, and wonder of wonders! with tired eyes and
quivering wings, she reached him her beak for a kiss.

At dinner that day, the farmer said to his wife:

"Maria, if you want to hear the prettiest singin', an' see the
cutest sight you ever saw, jest come down along the line fence
an' watch the antics o' that redbird we been hearin'"