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A French Story by Jacqueline Fanchini
When Mistress Owl tentatively glanced out at the world from her cozy hollow in the tree truck, she could tell by the winter sun that it was well past noon and so ventured onto a nearby branch. She was sure that she heard movement close by, and as her curiosity got the better of her, she crept silently in the direction of the sound.
Her acute hearing had not failed her, for she soon spotted a raven perched upon a neighboring branch. Master Raven stood tall with his black plumage gleaming in the sunlight and his jet-black eyes full of pride. And in his beak he held a wheel of cheese which he had stolen from the kitchen of a nearby farm.
Suddenly there was a noise from