black mop into a knot, slipped into the modish boots, corduroys,
and a linen smock, and was running out into the peculiar moon-dawn with the
swiftness of a boy.

But I was too late! The silver-moon sky was growing rosy over behind the
barn as I peered about, and a mist was rolling away from between the trees,
but not a soul in all the world was awake, and I was alone.

"Did he call me?" I asked of myself under my breath. And the answer I got
was from the Golden Bird, who sent a long, triumphant, eager "salutation to
the dawn" from out the shadows of the barn.

Eagerly I flew to him, and the minute I entered the apartment of the Bird
family I discovered that I had been only half dreaming about my early
morning opera. Pan had come and gone. Upon the door was pinned a piece of
torn brown wrapping-paper upon which I found these penciled words:

Give them about two quarts of warm meal mash, into which you put
some ground turnips at noon. Better build about four nests in the
dark under the bin, and be sure to disinfect them by white-washing
inside and out. Put in clean hay. Dust all the beauties on their
heads and under their wings with wood ashes in which you put a
little of the powder you'll find in a piece of this paper in the
right-hand corner of the bin. They'll want a good feed of ground
grain at three o'clock. Get copperas from Rufus to put in their
water, and I'll let you know later what else to do. Salutations!

ADAM

"I'm glad I got up so early if that's the day's program," I gasped to
myself as I leaned against the bin from which the Golden Bird had already
alighted and was commanding the Ladies Leghorn to descend--a command which
they were obeying one at a time with outspread white wings that were
handled with the height of awkwardness. "But I'll do it all if it kills
me," I added, with my head up, as I began to scatter some of the big white
grains that I knew to be corn and which, by lifting lids and peering into
huge slanting top boxes set against the wall, I discovered along with a lot
of other small brown seed stuff that I knew must be wheat. I was glad that
I had remembered that Adam had called the room the feed-room so I had
known where to look.

It was so perfectly exciting to see all those fluffy white members of my
family fortune scratching and clucking about my feet that I prolonged the
process of the feeding by scattering only a few grains at a time until