In “The Crow-Child,” Mary Mapes Dodge uses vivid details and contrasting imagery to explore the theme of love and temperamental relationships among siblings. The interplay between Cora's affection for Ruky and her moments of frustration is highlighted through her varied reactions to his playful nature and her seemingly harsh words. Descriptive language, such as Ruky being called "little Crow" and the depiction of their nuanced interactions, illustrates the complexity of sibling bonds where love can coexist with irritation. Cora’s occasional silencing of her emotions reveals the challenges of nurturing and the significance of familial connections, ultimately underscoring the enduring bond they share.
In 3–5 sentences, explain how the author of “The Crow-Child” by Mary Mapes Dodge used details, words, and actions to present and develop a theme.
Midway between a certain blue lake and a deep forest there once stood a cottage, called by its owner “The Rookery.” The forest shut out the sunlight and scowled upon the ground, breaking with shadows every ray that fell, until only a few little pieces lay scattered about. But the broad lake invited all the rays to come and rest upon her, so that sometimes she shone from shore to shore, and the sun winked and blinked above her, as though dazzled by his own reflection. The cottage, which was very small, had sunny windows and dark windows. Only from the roof could you see the mountains beyond, where the light crept up in the morning and down in the evening, turning all the brooks into living silver as it passed. But something brighter than sunshine used often to look from the cottage into the forest, and something even more gloomy than shadows often glowered from its windows upon the sunny lake. One was the face of little Ruky Lynn; and the other was his sister’s when she felt angry or ill-tempered. They were orphans, Cora and Ruky, living alone in the cottage with an old uncle. Cora—or “Cor,” as Ruky called her—was nearly sixteen years old, but her brother had seen the forest turn yellow only four times. She was, therefore, almost mother and sister in one. The little fellow was her companion night and day. Together they ate and slept, and—when Cora was not at work in the cottage—together they rambled in the wood, or floated in their little skiff upon the lake.
Ruky had bright, dark eyes, and the glossy blackness of his hair made his cheeks look even rosier than they were. He had funny ways for a boy, Cora thought. The quick, bird-like jerks of his raven-black head, his stately baby gait, and his habit of pecking at his food, as she called it, often made his sister laugh. Young as he was, the little fellow had learned to mount to the top of a low-branching tree near the cottage, though he could not always get down alone. Sometimes when, perched in the thick foliage, he would scream, “Cor! Cor! Come, help me down!” his sister would answer, as she ran out laughing, “Yes, little Crow! I’m coming.” Perhaps it was because he reminded her of a crow that Cora called him her little bird. This was when she was good-natured and willing to let him see how much she loved him. But in her cloudy moments, as the uncle called them, Cora was another girl. Everything seemed ugly to her, or out of tune. Even Ruky was a trial; and, instead of giving him a kind word, she would scold and grumble until he would steal from the cottage door, and, jumping lightly from the door-step, seek the shelter of his tree. Once safely perched among its branches he knew she would finish her work, forget her illhumor, and be quite ready, when he cried “Cor! Cor!” to come from the cottage with a cheery, “Yes, little Crow! I’m coming! I’m coming!” No one could help loving Ruky, with his quick, affectionate ways; and it seemed that Ruky, in turn, could not help loving every person and thing around him. He loved his silent old uncle, the bright lake, the cool forest, and even his little china cup with red berries painted upon it. But more than all, Ruky loved his golden-haired sister, and the great dog, who would plunge into the lake at the mere pointing of his chubby little finger. In fact, that finger and the commanding baby voice were “law” to Nep at any time. Nep and Ruky often talked together, and though one used barks and the other words, there was a perfect understanding between them. Woe to the straggler that dared to rouse Nep’s wrath, and woe to the bird or rabbit that ventured too near!—those great teeth snapped at their prey without even the warning of a growl. But Ruky could safely pull Nep’s ears or his tail, or climb his great shaggy back, or even snatch away the untasted bone. Still, as I said before, every one loved the child; so, of course, Nep was no exception
One day Ruky’s “Cor! Cor!” had sounded oftener than usual. His rosy face had bent saucily to kiss Cora’s upturned forehead, as she raised her arms to lift him from the tree; but the sparkle in his dark eyes had seemed to kindle so much mischief in him that his sister’s patience became fairly exhausted. “Has Cor nothing to do but to wait upon you?” she cried, “and nothing to listen to but your noise and your racket? You shall go to bed early to-day, and then I shall have some peace.” “No, no, Cor. Please let Ruky wait till the stars come. Ruky wants to see the stars.” “Hush! Ruky is bad. He shall have a whipping when Uncle comes back from town.” Nep growled. “Ha! ha!” laughed Ruky, jerking his head saucily from side to side; “Nep says ‘No!’”
RUBRIC
The answer is very clear. The answer is fully supported by details. There may be a few errors in grammar, usage, or mechanics. Errors do not interfere with meaning.
3 answers
USE SOME EVIDENCE FROM THE TEXT
In “The Crow-Child,” Mary Mapes Dodge illustrates the theme of love amid sibling frustration through vivid descriptions and character interactions. Cora, who is both sister and caretaker to Ruky, oscillates between affection and irritation, as seen when she affectionately calls him “little Crow” during good moments but scolds him during her "cloudy moments," stating, “Has Cor nothing to do but to wait upon you?” This highlights her conflicting feelings. The imagery of Ruky being unable to come down from his tree while calling for her, “Cor! Cor! Come, help me down!” encapsulates their dynamic—he seeks her help and comfort, while she grapples with her moods. Additionally, Ruky’s playful mischief and inherent goodness are embodied in his interactions with Nep, where even the dog responds affectionately to him despite Cora's frustration, emphasizing the theme that love often thrives amidst misunderstandings and challenges.