Even as it was, David was sorrowfully aware that he was proving to be a great disappointment so soon, and his violin playing that evening carried a moaning plaintiveness that would have been very significant to one who knew David well.
Very faithfully, the next day, the boy tried to carry out all the "dos," and though he did not always succeed, yet his efforts were so obvious, that even the indignant owner of the liberated crow was somewhat mollified; and again Simeon Holly released David from work at four o'clock.
Alas, for David's peace of mind, however; for on his walk to-day, though he found no captive crow to demand his sympathy, he found something else quite as heartrending, and as incomprehensible.
It was on the edge of the woods that he came upon two boys, each carrying a rifle, a dead squirrel, and a dead rabbit.

The threatened rain of the day before had not materialized, and David had his violin.
He had been playing softly when he came upon the boys where the path entered the woods.
"Oh!" At sight of the boys and their burden David gave an involuntary cry, and stopped playing.
The boys, scarcely less surprised at sight of David and his violin, paused and stared frankly.
"It's the tramp kid with his fiddle," whispered one to the other huskily.
David, his grieved eyes on the motionless little bodies in the boys' hands, shuddered.
"Are they--dead, too ?" The bigger boy nodded self-importantly.
"Sure.

We just shot 'em--the squirrels.

Ben here trapped the rabbits." He paused, manifestly waiting for the proper awed admiration to come into David's face.
But in David's startled eyes there was no awed admiration, there was only disbelieving horror.
"You mean, you SENT them to the far country ?" "We--what ?" "Sent them.

Made them go yourselves--to the far country ?" The younger boy still stared.