“Mercy on us!” cried mamma, holding up her hands. “What on earth have you got there?”
“A crow,” we told her. “And we’re going to tame him, and teach him to talk.”
“Nonsense!” said mamma. “You don’t suppose I’ll have a crow about the house, to kill the young chickens and eat up the eggs!”
But we begged and pleaded, till at last she gave her consent to let us keep it.
“It’ll be a great torment,” grumbled grandma. “It’s a young bird, and you’ll have to feed it like a baby.”
But we did not mind the trouble. Indeed, it was more of an amusement to us to feed our pet on scraps of meat and bits of bread. It opened its mouth so wide, and cried “Caw-aw-aw!” in such a satisfactory way.
Ikey had instructed us as to the manner of feeding.
“Jess you peck it on de head, an’ it’ll open its mouth like it does fur de ole birds,” he explained.
And we found his advice was good.
We named our pet “Jack-a-Dandy,” and he grew and throve so much that he was soon able to procure his own food, which consisted of crickets and other insects.