that song so many times I'm tired of the sound of it."

   "It must be nice to be such a favorite," said Buddie.

   "Suppose we go up to the Corner and see what's stirring," suggested the Donkey, with a yawn.

   "Oh, are

    you

   going up to the Corner, too?" cried Buddie. "I am to meet the Rabbit there at two o'clock. I hope it isn't late."

   The Donkey glanced skyward.

   "It isn't noon yet," said he.

   "How do you tell time?" inquired Buddie.

   "By the way it flies. Time flies, you know. You can tell a great many birds that way, too." As he spoke the Donkey put his lute into one of his bags and took down his sign.

   "You can ride if you wish," he offered graciously.

   "Thank you," said Buddie. And leaving the White

   Blackbird asleep on his perch,—for, as Buddie said, he was having such a lovely nap it would be a pity to wake him,—they set off through the wood.

   It was bad traveling for a short distance, but presently they came out on an old log-road; and along this the Donkey ambled at an easy pace. On both sides grew wild flowers in wonderful abundance, but, as Buddie noticed, they were all of one kind—Enchanter's Nightshade.

   Buddie had also noticed, when she climbed to her comfortable seat, a peculiar marking on the Donkey's broad back. It was bronze in color, and in shape like a cross.

   "Perhaps it's a strawberry mark," she thought, "and he may not want to talk about it." But curiosity got the better of her.

   "Oh, that?" said the Donkey, carelessly, in reply to a question. "That's a Victoria Cross. I served three months with the British army in South Africa, and was decorated for gallantry in leading a charge of the ambulance corps. I shall have to ask you not to hang things on my neck. It's all I can do to 

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