g a piece of wood, and sometimes he stayed a good
while (just for one piece of wood), but they still didn't think much
about it--not then. What they did think about was how hungry they were,
and Mr. Crow said he knew he could eat as much as the old ancestor of
his that was told about in a book which he had once borrowed from Mr.
Man's little boy who had left it out in the yard at dinner-time.

Then they all begged Mr. Crow to get the book and read it to them, and
perhaps they could imagine they were not so hungry. So Mr. Crow brought
the book and read them the poem about

THE RAVENOUS RAVEN

[Illustration: HE WOULD SMOKE IN THE SUN WHEN THE MORNINGS WERE FAIR]

Oh, there was an old raven as black as could be,
And a wonderful sort of a raven was he;
For his house he kept tidy, his yard he kept neat,
And he cooked the most marvellous dainties to eat.
He could roast, he could toast, he could bake, he could fry,
He could stir up a cake in the wink of an eye,
He could boil, he could broil, he could grill, he could stew
Oh, there wasn't a thing that this bird couldn't do.
He would smoke in the sun when the mornings were fair,
And his plans for new puddings and pies would prepare;
But, alas! like the famous Jim Crow with his shelf,
He was greedy, and ate all his dainties himself.

[Illustration: WITH A LOOK AND A SIGH THEY WOULD STAND AND BEHOLD]

It was true he was proud of the things he could cook,
And would call in his neighbors sometimes for a look,
Or a taste, it may be, when his pastry was fine;
But he'd never been known to invite them to dine.
With a look and a sigh they could stand and behold
All the puddings so brown and the sauces of gold;
With a taste and a growl they'd reluctantly go
Praying vengeance to fall on that greedy old crow.

[Illustration: THE TASTIEST PASTRY THAT EVER WAS KNOWN]

Now, one morning near Christmas when holly grows green,
And the best of good things in the markets are seen,
He went out for a smoke in the crisp morning air,
And to think of some holiday dish to prepare.
Mr. Rabbit had spices to sell at his store,
Mr. Reynard had tender young chicks by the score,
And the old raven thought, as he stood there alone,
Of the tastiest pastry that ever was known.

Then away to the market he hurried full soon,
Dropping in for a chat with the 'possum and 'coon
Just to tell them his plans, which they heard with delight,
And