Got it of a little red bird! Power o' spring! Power o' song! Power o'
love! If that poor little red target for some ornery cuss's bullet can
get all he's getting out o' life to-day, there's no cause why a
reasonin' thinkin' man shouldn't realize some o' his blessings. You
hit it, Maria; I got the power. It's the power o' God, but I learned
how to lay hold of it from that little red bird. Come here, Maria!"

Abram wrapped the lines around the plow handle, and cautiously led his
wife to the fence. He found a piece of thick bark for her to stand on,
and placed her where she would be screened by a big oak. Then he stood
behind her and pointed out the sumac and the female bird.

"Jest you keep still a minute, an' you'll feel paid for comin' all
right, honey," he whispered, "but don't make any sudden movement."

"I don't know as I ever saw a worse-lookin' specimen 'an she is,"
answered Maria.

"She looks first-class to him. There's no kick comin' on his part, I
can tell you," replied Abram.

The bride hopped shyly through the sumac. She pecked at the dried
berries, and frequently tried to improve her plumage, which certainly
had been badly draggled; and there was a drop of blood dried at the
base of her beak. She plainly showed the effects of her rough
experience, and yet she was a most attractive bird; for the dimples in
her plump body showed through the feathers, and instead of the usual
wickedly black eyes of the cardinal family, hers were a soft tender
brown touched by a love-light there was no mistaking. She was a
beautiful bird, and she was doing all in her power to make herself
dainty again. Her movements clearly indicated how timid she was, and
yet she remained in the sumac as if she feared to leave it; and
frequently peered expectantly among the tree-tops.

There was a burst of exultation down the river. The little bird gave
her plumage a fluff, and watched anxiously. On came the Cardinal like
a flaming rocket, calling to her on wing. He alighted beside her,
dropped into her beak a morsel of food, gave her a kiss to aid
digestion, caressingly ran his beak the length of her wing quills, and
flew to the dogwood. Mrs. Cardinal enjoyed the meal. It struck her
palate exactly right. She liked the kiss and caress, cared, in fact,
for all that he did for her, and with the appreciation of his
tenderness came repentance for the dreadful chase she had led him in
her foolish fright, and an impulse to rep