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“Mind? What do you mean by that? Anyway, you can’t prove it.” Max was the first to be quite ready with his exhibit. It was a queer creature that one gradually discovered to be some sort of a bird; though such a one had never before been seen on land or sea. Max had arrayed his mother’s big white gander for the occasion. A turkey-tail fan made a huge breastplate, if one can imagine a breastplate of feathers. All the long-tailed roosters that had been killed in town for months, one would guess, had contributed to the coat of sprawling feathers that was tied over the body of the bird. And no one knew by what magic the boy had coaxed some one to lend him the magnificent peacock plumes that rose high above the little wiggling goose tail. “O, Dadsie,” was the reply, “this is recital afternoon, you know.”.
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Conrad
Max, whose father was a gardener, knew wizard’s tricks with seeds and soils; and as Farmer and Forester to the syndicate, gave his knowledge right and left with happy importance. He taught the girls how to plan and plant their flower beds, and started the boys on a career of vegetable-raising that made them feel rich before they began; talked trees to Harold and other farmer boys, and astonished his father by the questions he asked and the work he did. Mrs. Crump smiled kindly at the impressionable boy, and lest her son’s evident amusement should wound his feelings, she asked, “Do you like hearing of other countries and of other people?” “Stop and chin with me just a little, won’t you, marmsey?” “O Billy, the poor rabbit will surely be caught; and you know the stag hid in ‘Trosach’s wildest nook.’”.
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