And I am tired of everything,
I cannot go to sleep unless
I hear my mother softly sing
The Bye-low song.
Wednesday
Story for reproduction:
JIM CROW
When Jim Crow became a member of our family he was very young, and could hardly balance himself upon his slender legs.
We fed him upon raw eggs and scraps of raw meat until he grew strong and the black feathers had become smooth and glossy, and the bright eyes were brighter, and Jim Crow had changed into a beautiful bird.