Белая птичка

           Standingontheledgehecouldseetreesfaraway,whichweredoubtlesstheKensingtonGardens,andthemomenthesawthemheentirelyforgotthathewasnowalittleboyinanightgown,andawayheflew,rightoverthehousestotheGardens.Itiswonderfulthathecouldflywithoutwings,buttheplaceitchedtremendously,and,perhapswecouldallflyifwewereasdead-confident-sureofourcapacitytodoitaswasboldPeterPanthatevening.

           Healightedgailyontheopensward,betweentheBaby’sPalaceandtheSerpentine,andthefirstthinghedidwastolieonhisbackandkick.Hewasquiteunawarealreadythathehadeverbeenhuman,andthoughthewasabird,eveninappearance,justthesameasinhisearlydays,andwhenhetriedtocatchaflyhedidnotunderstandthatthereasonhemisseditwasbecausehehadattemptedtoseizeitwithhishand,which,ofcourse,abirdneverdoes.Hesaw,however,thatitmustbepastLock-outTime,fortherewereagoodmanyfairiesabout,alltoobusytonoticehim;theyweregettingbreakfastready,milkingtheircows,drawingwater,andsoon,andthesightofthewater-pailsmadehimthirsty,soheflewovertotheRoundPondtohaveadrink.Hestooped,anddippedhisbeakinthepond;hethoughtitwashisbeak,but,ofcourse,itwasonlyhisnose,and,therefore,verylittlewatercameup,andthatnotsorefreshingasusual,sonexthetriedapuddle,andhefellflopintoit.