“Such luck!” grumbled Blacky, as he flew
over to his favorite tree to do a little thinking.
“Such luck! Now all my neighbors know
about the nest of Hooty the Owl, and sooner or later
one of them will find out that there are eggs in it.
There is one thing about it, though, and that is
that if I can’t get them, nobody can. That
is to say, none of my relatives can. I’ve
tried every way I can think of, and those eggs are
still there. My, my, my, how I would like one
of them right now!”
Then Blacky the Crow did a thing which disappointed
scamps often do, — began to blame the ones
he was trying to wrong because his plans had failed.
To have heard him talking to himself, you would have
supposed that those eggs really belonged to him and
that Hooty and Mrs. Hooty had cheated him out of them.
Yes, Sir, that is what you would have thought if
you could have heard him muttering to himself there
in the tree-top. In his disappointment over not
getting those eggs, he was so sorry for himself that
he actually did feel that he was the one wronged,
— that Hooty and Mrs. Hooty should have
let him have those eggs.
Of course, that was absolute foolishness, but he made
himself believe it just the same. At least,
he pretended to believe it. And the more he
pretended, the angrier he grew. This is often
the way with people who try to wrong others.
They grow angry with the ones they have tried to
wrong. When at last Blacky had to confess to
himself that he could think of no other way to get
those eggs, he began to wonder if there was some way
to make trouble for Hooty and Mrs. Hooty. It
was right then that he thought of Farmer Brown’s
boy. Blacky’s eyes snapped. He remembered
how, once upon a time, Farmer Brown’s boy had
delighted to rob nests. Blacky had seen him
take the eggs from the nests of Blacky’s own
relatives and from many other feathered people.
What he did with the eggs, Blacky had no idea.
Just now he didn’t care. If Farmer Brown’s
boy would just happen to find Hooty’s nest,
he would be sure to take those eggs, and then he, Blacky,
would feel better. He would feel that he was
even with Hooty.
Right away he began to try to think of some way to
bring Farmer Brown’s boy over to the lonesome
corner of the Green Forest where Hooty’s nest
was. If he could once get him there, he felt
sure that Farmer Brown’s boy would see the nest
and climb up to it, and then of course he would take
the eggs. If he couldn’t have those eggs
himself, the next best thing would be to see some one
else get them.
Dear me, dear me, such dreadful thoughts! I
am afraid that Blacky’s heart was as black as
his coat. And the worst of it was, he seemed
to get a lot of pleasure in his wicked plans.
Now right down in his heart he knew that they were
wicked plans, but he tried to make excuses to himself.
