158 THE LAND OF PLUCK

 

“JUST TWO Hours.”

Suddenly she felt a peculiar stirring. The crow seemed
to grow larger. Then, in the dim light, she felt its feathers
pressing lightly against her cheek. Next, something soft
and warm wound itself tenderly about her neck, and she
heard a sweet voice saying :

“Don’t ery, Cor,—I "Il be good.”