"What about the peacock and the crane?" your Aunt Amy asked, not disposed to let slip any opportunity of hearing a story.
"Oh, that's something very, very old--why, my grandmother used to tell about it. You know the crane thinks he has got a pretty tail, and I'm not saying anything against it, for it is handsome; but this crane my grandmother used to tell about, had the idea that he was the finest looking bird who ever came out of an egg. He went around making a good deal of such talk as that, and one day he met with a peacock for the first time. Strangely enough, he had never heard about such a bird, so he strutted back and forth as usual, and after they had talked a while of the weather, and all that sort of thing, Mr. Crane said:
"'People tell me I am one of the handsomest birds that ever lived. There's nothing in this world that quite comes up to my tail feathers, and that much I can say without risk of being thought vain.'
"'You have some very pretty feathers,' Mr. Peacock said, keeping his own tail folded up so it couldn't be seen very well. 'But do you really think they are more beautiful than can be found on any other bird?'
"'I don't think so, I know it,' Mr. Crane said, spreading the long plumes of his tail out so they would show to the best advantage, and just then Mr. Peacock unfolded his tail to its full size.
"If you ever saw an astonished bird, it was Mr. Crane. He looked at the beautiful feathers spread out like a great, big fan, and then started to fly away.
"'Where are you going?' Mr. Peacock asked.
"And Mr. Crane answered, while he was in the air:
"'Off somewhere to hide until I have got sense enough to hold my tongue when I don't know what I'm talking about.'