For a moment Mr. Crow balanced himself on the limb. And the next moment,
he had jumped. Afterward, he could never remember exactly how it all
happened. Everything seemed like a bad dream to old Mr. Crow--such as he
sometimes had after eating too heartily of corn.
He felt himself swept up into the sky faster than he had flown for years.
He was pitched and tossed about; and in no time at all he was drenched
with water--for the cold rain pelted him as much as it pleased. He could
only cling to the handle of his umbrella. And so he sailed away, swaying
this way and that as the wind caught him, and always climbing higher and
higher into the sky.
He passed the top of Blue Mountain almost before he knew it. Looking
down, he could see Mrs. Eagle on her nest; and she seemed to be in a
flutter of excitement, too. She was frightened; and it was no wonder.
For she thought the umbrella was a monstrous bird, coming to snatch her
children away from her.
In a few minutes more Mr. Crow had crossed another mountain. He was
sailing away from home like a kite that has broken its string. And he was
rising so high in the air that he was beginning to grow uneasy. He began
to wonder what he had better do.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44