THE SUSPICIOUS JACKDAW.
Nobody knows, but this is ascertained—that, finding it heavy, he took it, not to the roof, but to the edge of a deep well in the garden, wherein he had deposited the cook's brass thimble, and several of her skewers; having reached this well, and lighted on the stone brink, he peered down into it, and saw his own image, and the red necklace in his beak; he also saw four or five little stars reflected there, and as it was his bedtime, he dozed a little on the edge of the well, while the evening air waved slightly the long leaves of the ferns that hung over it, and grew in the joints of the stone many feet down.
At last, it is supposed that some such thought as this crossed his brain: 'These berries are heavy, and not good to eat; I had better lay them on the water till to-morrow morning.'
So he let them drop, and down they fell to the bottom. He had dropped a good many articles before this into the well; some, such as nuts, feathers, and bits of stick and straw, floated; others, like this necklace, had sunk. It was all chance which happened, but he liked to hear the splash of the red necklace, and he stood awhile chattering to himself, with great serenity of mind, on the occasion of its disappearing; then he went and pecked at the kitchen window, demanding his supper.
This is what the jackdaw did; and now what did the mistress do, when she walked to the parlor door the next morning, unlocked it, and found that the red necklace was gone?
She was quite amazed—nobody but Patience could have taken it—little Patience, her good little maid,
