Long ago, when crows were white, a crow and an owl sat on a log, talking together.

The crow said he did not like his color, and the owl said, I wish I had some pretty spots on my back.

So do I, said the crow. Let us paint each other with black oil from the lamp.

To-whit, to-whoo, said the owl. What fun that would be!

Now when a clay lamp gets old there is a lot of thick black oil in the bottom of it. The Eskimos make chewing-gum out of this oil.

The crow took one of the owl’s feathers, dipped it into the oil, and painted beautiful black spots all over the owl’s body. He did it very well and made the owl look fine.

Then came the owl’s turn to paint the crow. At first he liked to do it, and made such pretty round spots that the crow began to feel very proud indeed; but before he was half through, the owl got tired of working so hard; and taking the lamp, he turned it upside down, and poured the black oil all over the crow.

How angry that crow was when he found himself black all over! He tried his best to get it off, but it was no use. The black stuck fast.

Ever since then, the crow has been the blackest of all birds.