"Well," said Mr. Crow, "I can tell you something about the stars that may surprise you. I made the stars myself—not all of them, of course, but a good many of them. No doubt a number of them were made in the way Jack Rabbit has explained, and others in the way that Mr. 'Coon saw himself, and told us about, but most of the bright stars, and where there are a number together, I can account for, because I made them myself, as I said—though I did not enjoy it. They came out of my head—that is, they were knocked out—not all at once, but at different times. I did not make them alone—I had help—my wife helped me; also my mother-in-law, who was visiting us. It was this way:
"I was quite young when I married and I did not pick out the right person for a peaceful home. Minerva, which was her name, had never been brought up to do anything but go about with her mother and get up meetings on one thing and another and talk to them as long as they would stand it, and then go home and talk to Minerva's father, who was not very strong, and passed away at one such time. It was my turn after that. I came along just in time to take his place.
I ASKED MINERVA TO TELL ME IN A FEW SIMPLE WORDS WHAT SHE HAD BEEN TALKING ABOUT AT THE MEETING
"It was nice enough at first. I thought how smart Mother Crow and Minerva were, and was proud when I saw them get up those big meetings. You never saw such meetings as those were. I've seen the trees in every direction black with our family, listening to Minerva and her mother talk. I don't know what they said—I never could seem to get the run of it, and, besides, I had to slip home early and get the supper, so I never got to hear their closing remarks, which might have explained things. Once when I asked Minerva to tell me in a few simple words what she had been talking about at the meeting, it seemed to fret her, and she said I seemed to understand private cooking better than public questions, and had better stick to it; which I did, after that, and I didn't go to the meetings at all. Minerva was not a cook herself, though her mother had been before she took to society work, and she told me some very good recipes.
"It was trying to learn those recipes that started my work in the star-making line. She gave me a recipe for chicken-pie one morning before she and Minerva started out, and the last thing she said, just before she left, was that it was only to have one crust. I had never made a pie that way. I always used two crusts—one above and one below, so when it came to that part this time, I put a lower crust in the pan, and then the chicken, and baked it just so, though I thought it would look much better with a top crust. When Mrs. Crow and Minerva came home, they were cross, and fussing a good deal at each other, because, for some reason, the meeting hadn't gone well, and when they came in and Mother Crow saw the open pie on the table, she asked me what I meant by making such a looking thing as that. I told her I had put on only one crust, according to her orders, and I thought, myself, a top crust would make it look better.
SHE JUST WHEELED AND GAVE ME A CLIP