She lost no time in carrying out the idea . As soon as she came home from school the next day she left the manse and made her way down the Glen . Walter Blythe joined her as she passed the post office . `` I 'm going to Mrs. Elliott 's on an errand for mother , '' he said . `` Where are you going , Faith ? '' `` I am going somewhere on church business , '' said Faith loftily . She did not volunteer any further information and Walter felt rather snubbed . They walked on in silence for a little while . It was a warm , windy evening with a sweet , resinous air . Beyond the sand dunes were gray seas , soft and beautiful . The Glen brook bore down a freight of gold and crimson leaves , like fairy shallops . In Mr. James Reese 's buckwheat stubble-land , with its beautiful tones of red and brown , a crow parliament was being held , whereat solemn deliberations regarding the welfare of crowland were in progress . Faith cruelly broke up the august assembly by climbing up on the fence and hurling a broken rail at it . Instantly the air was filled with flapping black wings and indignant caws . `` Why did you do that ? '' said Walter reproachfully . `` They were having such a good time . '' `` Oh , I hate crows , '' said Faith airily . `` The are so black and sly I feel sure they 're hypocrites . They steal little birds ' eggs out of their nests , you know .
I saw one do it XXXXX our lawn last spring .
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