king made up his mind that she was a most remarkable bird, and
went away pleasure-seeking; but the queen settled to brooding, a
picture of joyous faith and contentment.

Through all the long days, when the heat became intense, and the
king was none too thoughtful of her appetite or comfort, she
nestled those four eggs against her breast and patiently waited.
The big egg was her treasure. She gave it constant care. Many
times in a day she turned it; and always against her breast there
was the individual pressure that distinguished it from the
others. It was the first to hatch, of course, and the queen felt
that she had enough if all the others failed her; for this egg
pipped with a resounding pip, and before the silky down was
really dry on the big terracotta body, the young Cardinal arose
and lustily demanded food.

The king came to see him and at once acknowledged subjugation.
He was the father of many promising cardinals, yet he never had
seen one like this. He set the Limberlost echoes rolling with
his jubilant rejoicing. He unceasingly hunted for the ripest
berries and seed. He stuffed that baby from morning until night,
and never came with food that he did not find him standing a-top
the others calling for more. The queen was just as proud of him
and quite as foolish in her idolatry, but she kept tally and gave
the remainder every other worm in turn. They were unusually fine
babies, but what chance has merely a fine baby in a family that
possesses a prodigy? The Cardinal was as large as any two of the
other nestlings, and so red the very down on him seemed tinged
with crimson; his skin and even his feet were red.