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Was there a hint of pride in his voice? A touch of scorn
that she did not know a chickadee? S he thought so, It was
the first time that she had gotten that much response from him,
He still remained quiet and aloof, but more and more she was
able to stir his interest, to draw away the veil behind which
he hid himself, to catch a glimpse of his thoughts for an un-
guarded instant. And more and more she was surprised at
his knowledge of nature, his stern independence, his mixture
of maturity and youth, and his terrible shyness,

It was a great day for her. when he showed her on his
Own another drawing that he had made, This one was of geese
in a windy sky, and he told her how he would watch them
flying, and said awkwardly in a way that told more than his
words that he liked to hear them calling, And she admired
his drawing and was happy at her progress,

"Ma'am," he said shyly a few days later, "I ," I was
wonder-in".!'

"Yes?"

. "Well, just thought that maybe you'd like to see a
painting I made, It's of a place I like to go sometimes,"

"Why, yes, I'd like to,"

"Ori'y it's too big to bring to school. But my house is
just. a little ways away; I walk .it e v'r-y mor-nin! an' if you
want, maybe you could come look at it sometime,"

He was trying to be casual but his eyes were dark and
pleading and his hands were making nervous little trips back
and forth along the edge of her desk,

Impulsively she answered his need, "I'd love to come
see your painting, How would it be if I came after school
tomorrow?"

He looked up at her quickly, then looked down again at
his hands, "That'd be fine, ma'am," There was a pause,
then he said softly, "You know, you're the first person I ever
asked to look at it,"

The next day passed slowly, Late In the afternoon the

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