Glory as a name For a baby buzzard? ""I'm calling it that in hope, Papa."" Anna's hope is amply fulfilled in this gentle, firm story, so much a projection of her character and so persuasive in itself that one is inclined to forgive the preemption of the baby bird whose mother has left it momentarily. Countering brother Cal's ""nobody anywhere ever likes a buzzard"" and her parents' confirming want of enthusiasm, Anna promises to feed the chickens and gather the eggs and wash the breakfast dishes all summer; to Papa's ""It will fly away in late fall,"" she's just oblivious. From being lonesome Glory becomes Anna's shadow, her foster child, and from being white fluff, ""a baby angel,"" the bird becomes glossy black in the way of turkey vultures--""beautiful and eaglelike"" to Anna. Some have been seen flying south, Papa says, and soon Glory extends its short flights and soars off. . . ""Go or come as you please, Glory,"" Anna whispers, ""it's up to you."" The many illustrations have a flaxen glow, a wonderment without sentimentality, that quite suit the occasion.