"I don't know as redbirds are so scarce 'at I've any call to wade
through slush a half-mile to see one," answered Maria.

"Footin's pretty good along the line fence," said Abram, "an' you
never saw a redbird like this fellow. He's as big as any two
common ones. He's so red every bush he lights on looks like it
was afire. It's past all question, he's been somebody's pet, an'
he's taken me for the man. I can get in six feet of him easy.
He's the finest bird I ever set eyes on; an' as for singin', he's
dropped the weather, an' he's askin' folks to his housewarmin'
to-day. He's been there alone for a week, an' his singin's been
first-class; but to-day he's picked up a mate, an' he's as
tickled as ever I was. I am really consarned for fear he'll
burst himself."

Maria sniffed.

"Course, don't come if you're tired, honey," said the farmer. "I
thought maybe you'd enjoy it. He's a-doin' me a power o' good.
My joints are limbered up till I catch myself pretty near
runnin', on the up furrow, an' then, down towards the fence, I go
slow so's to stay near him as long as I can."

Maria stared. "Abram Johnson, have you gone daft?" she demanded.

Abram chuckled. "Not a mite dafter'n you'll be, honey, once you
set eyes on the fellow. Better come, if you can. You're
invited. He's askin' the whole endurin' country to come."