"What does count, then?" Turkey
Proudfoot demanded.
"You ought to be able to guess," said Simon Screecher. "It's right in front of your eyes."
XX
BEAKS AND BILLS
Turkey Proudfoot was a poor guesser. There in the woods, at night, Simon Screecher the owl had told him of something that "counted," something that was right in front of Turkey Proudfoot's eyes. And Turkey Proudfoot named everything he could think of. He mentioned the oak tree in which he sat, the darkness, the yellow moon.
"You're wrong!" Simon Screecher kept telling him. "You're getting further away with every guess. I suppose I'll have to tell you what I mean: it's your beak. And if that isn't right in front of[p. 96] your eyes, I don't know what is."
"My beak!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "I don't call my bill my beak. I call my beak my bill."