ashed above the willows,
and a kingfisher, stationed on a stump opposite him, watching the
shoals for minnows, saw it. He spread his beak and rolled forth
rattling laughter, until his voice reechoed from point to point down
the river. The Cardinal scarcely knew how he got out, but he had
learned a new lesson. That beautiful, shining, creeping thing was
water; not thick, tepid, black marsh water, but pure, cool, silver
water. He shook his plumage, feeling a degree redder from shame, but
he would not be laughed into leaving. He found it too delightful. In
a short time he ventured down and took a sip, and it was the first real
drink of his life. Oh, but it was good!

When thirst from the heat and his long flight was quenched, he ventured
in for a bath, and that was a new and delightful experience. How he
splashed and splashed, and sent the silver drops flying! How he ducked
and soaked and cooled in that rippling water, in which he might remain
as long as he pleased and splash his fill; for he could see the bottom
for a long distance all around, and easily could avoid anything
attempting to harm him. He was so wet when his bath was finished he
scarcely could reach a bush to dry and dress his plumage.

Once again in perfect feather, he remembered the bird of the water, and
returned to the willow. There in the depths of the shining river the
Cardinal discovered himself, and his heart swelled big with just pride.
Was that broad full breast his? Where had he seen any other cardinal
with a crest so high it waved in the wind? How big and black his eyes
were, and his beard was almost as long and crisp as his father's. He
spread his wings and gloated on their sweep, and twisted and flirted
his tail. He went over his toilet again and dressed every feather on
him. He scoured the back of his neck with the butt of his wings, and
tucking his head under them, slowly drew it out time after time to
polish his crest. He turned and twisted. He rocked and paraded, and
every glimpse he caught of his size and beauty filled him with pride.
He strutted like a peacock and chattered like a jay.

When he could find no further points to admire, something else caught
his attention. When he "chipped" there was an answering "Chip" across
the river; certainly there was no cardinal there, so it must be that he
was hearing his own voice as well as seeing himself. Selecting a
conspicuous perch he sent an incisive "Chip!" across the wate