Goodwife Higgins, who kept the home for the little maid and her father, rose early the next day before the sun was up. The soft light of dawn filled the air; the eastern sky was breaking rosily. A moment, she stood in the doorway, inhaling with delight the fresh, delicious air, noting how the dew lay white as hoar-frost on the grass. She made the fire and put the kettle on to boil, filling it first with water from the spring. Then she went to Deliverance’s room to awaken her, loath to do so, for she felt the little maid had become very weary the previous day. To her surprise she found the small hooded bed empty. “The dear child,” smiled the goodwife, “she has gone to gather strawberries for her father’s breakfast. She repents, I perceive, her unchastened heart, and seeks to pleasure me by an o’er amount o’ promptness.” She turned to fling back the covers of the bed that they might air properly. This, however, had already been done. On the window-ledge a little yellow bird sat preening its feathers. It looked at her with its bright, black eyes and continued its dainty toilet undisturbed. Now, this was strange, for as every one knew, the wild canary was a shy bird and flew away at the least approach. The goodwife grew pale, for she feared she was in the presence of a witch, knowing that witches often took upon themselves the forms of yellow birds, that they might by such an innocent and harmless seeming, accomplish much evil among unsuspecting persons. She tiptoed out of the room, and returned with her Bible as a protection against any spell the witch might cast upon her. “Ye wicked one,” she cried, and her voice shook, “ye who have given yourself over from God to the Devil, get ye gone from this godly house!” At these words the bird flew away, proving it beyond doubt to be possessed by an evil spirit, for it is known that a witch cannot bear to hear the name of the Lord. The goodwife was yet more affrighted to see the bird fly in the woods in the direction in which the strawberry patch lay. There Deliverance probably was. What power could avail against the witch casting a malignant spell upon her? She leaned out of the window, calling,— “Deliverance, Deliverance, come into the house! There be a witch abroad. Deliverance, oh, Deliverance!” Several moments passed. At last to her anxious gaze appeared Deliverance, tripping out of the green woods from the direction in which the bird had flown. She was attired in her tiffany gown, and there was that about the yellow sheen of the fair silk and the long braid of her yellow hair which made her seem like the yellow bird in human form. The first rays of the sun struck aslant her head. She was singing, and as she sang she smiled. She could not have gone to gather berries, for she carried neither basket nor dish. It was evident she had not heard her name called, for she paused startled and abashed, and the singing words died on her lips, when she saw the dame leaning out of the window.