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THE CROW AND THE PITCHER
NCE there was a thirsty crow. She had flown a long way
looking for water to drink.
Suddenly she saw a pitcher. She flew down and saw it
held a little water, but is was so low in the pitcher
that she could not reach it.
"But I must have that water," she cried. "I am too
weary to fly farther. What shall I do? I know! I'll tip
the pitcher over."
She beat it with her wings, but it was too heavy. She
could not move it.
Then she thought awhile. "I know now! I will break it!
Then I will drink the water as it pours out. How good
it will taste!"
With beak and claws and wings she threw herself against
the pitcher. But it was too strong.
The poor crow stopped to rest. "What shall I do now? I
cannot die of thirst with water close by. There must be
a way, if I only had wit enough to find it out."
After a while the crow had a bright idea. There were
many small stones lying about. She picked them up one
by one and dropped them into the pitcher. Slowly the
water rose, till at last she could drink it. How good
"There is always a way out of hard places," said the
crow, "if only you have the wit to find it."