Indeed, he never ran at all. He was given to sitting down on the ground
and listening to the crazy singing of the loons--birds whose favorite
amusement consists in trying to see which can make the most hideous
noise. Then, too, he would watch the stake-drivers flying along the
creek, with their long, ugly necks sticking out in front of them, and
their long, ugly legs sticking out behind them, and their long, ugly
wings sticking out on each side of them. They never seemed to have any
bodies at all. People call them stake-drivers because their musical
voices sound like the driving of a stake: "Ke-whack! ke-whack!" They also
call them "Fly-up-the-creeks," and plenty of ugly names besides.
It was one sleepy summer afternoon that Bobby sat on the root of a
beech-tree, watching a stake-driver who stood in the water as if looking
for his dinner of tadpoles, when what should the homely bird do but walk
right out on the land and up to Bobby. Bobby then saw that it was not a
stake-driver, but a long-legged, long-necked, short-bodied gentleman, in
a black bob-tail coat. And yet his long, straight nose did look like a
stake-driver's beak, to be sure. He was one of the stake-driver fairies,
who live in the dark and lonesome places along the creeks in the Hoosier
country.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25