L. Frank Baum Read Online Free Page B

last, and the lovers were reunited in
death.
    "Also Policeman Bluejay found his grandfather's mummy in this room, and
the stuffed mummies of many other friends he had known in the forest.
So he was very sorrowful when he returned to us, and from that time we
have feared the heartless men more than ever."
    "It's a sad story," sighed Twinkle, "and I've no doubt it is a true
one. But all men are not so bad, I'm sure."
    "All men who enter the forest are," answered the oriole, positively.
"For they only come here to murder and destroy those who are helpless
before their power, but have never harmed them in the least. If God
loves the birds, as I am sure He does, why do you suppose He made their
ferocious enemies, the men?"
    Twinkle did not reply, but she felt a little ashamed.

Chapter VI - A Merry Adventure
*
    "Talking about men," said the cuckoo, in a harsh but not very
unpleasant voice, "reminds me of a funny adventure I once had myself. I
was sitting in my nest one day, at the time when I was quite young,
when suddenly a man appeared before me. You must know that this nest,
which was rather carelessly built by my mother, was in a thick
evergreen tree, and not very high from the ground; so that I found the
man's eyes staring squarely into my own.
    "Most of you, my dears, have seen men; but this was the strangest sort
of man you can imagine. There was white hair upon his face, so long
that it hung down to his middle, and over his eyes were round plates
of glass that glittered very curiously. I was so astonished at seeing
the queer creature that I sat still and stared, and this was my
undoing. For suddenly there came a rapid 'whish!' through the air, and
a network of cords fell all around and over me. Then, indeed, I spread
my wings and attempted to fly; but it was too late. I struggled in the
net without avail, and soon gave up the conflict in breathless despair.
    "My captor did not intend to kill me, however. Instead, he tried to
soothe my fright, and carried me very gently for many, many miles,
until we came to a village of houses. Here, at the very top of a high
house, the man lived in one little room. It was all littered with tools
and bits of wood, and on a broad shelf were several queer things that
went 'tick-tock! tick-tock!' every minute. I was thrust, gently enough,
into a wooden cage, where I lay upon the bottom more dead than alive
because the ticking things at first scared me dreadfully and I was in
constant terror lest I should be tortured or killed. But the glass-eyed
old man brought me dainty things to eat, and plenty of fresh water to
relieve my thirst, and by the next day my heart had stopped going
pitty-pat and I was calm enough to stand up in my cage and look around
me.
    "My white-whiskered captor sat at a bench with his coat off and his
bald head bare, while he worked away busily putting little wheels and
springs together, and fitting them into a case of wood. When one of
them was finished it would sing 'tick-tock! tick-tock!' just like the
other queer things on the shelf, and this constant ticking so
interested me that I raised my head and called:
    "'Cuck-oo! cuck-oo!'"
    "'That's it!' cried the old man, delightedly. 'That's what I wanted to
hear. It's the real cuckoo at last, and not a bit like those cheap
imitations.'
    "I didn't understand at first what he meant, but he worked at his bench
all day, and finally brought to my cage a bird made out of wood, that
was carved and painted to look just as I was. It seemed so natural that
I flapped my wings and called 'cuck-oo' to it, and the man pressed a
little bellows at the bottom of the bird and made it say 'cuck-oo!' in
return. But that cry was so false and unreal that I just shouted with
laughter, and the glass-eyed old man shook his head sadly and said:
'That will never do. That will never do in the world.'
    "So all the next day he worked hard trying to make his wooden bird say
'cuck-oo!' in the proper way; and at last it really spoke quite
naturally, so that