“Well, perhaps I’m not ripe,” said the White Blackbird; and that put an end to the argument.
“Oh!” cried Buddie, suddenly remembering her engagement with the Rabbit, “can you tell me where the Corner is?”
“Certainly,” replied the White Blackbird. “As the crow flies, it’s five trees straight ahead, ten to the right, fifteen straight ahead, twenty to the right, twenty-five straight ahead, thirty to the right, and then straight ahead to the Corner. You can’t miss it.”
“Dear me! I never could remember that!” said Buddie.
“It’s as easy as rolling off a prairie,” said Snowfeathers. “Just keep to the right, and count five—ten—fifteen—twenty—twenty-five—thirty. All you really have to keep in mind is the dead trees; they don’t count.”
“My papa says crows fly in a straight line, like bees,” ventured Buddie.
“It would take you a week to go by a B line,” replied Snowfeathers. “Evidently you don’t know what a B line is. Here’s one.”
Snowfeathers flew into the air, and described a number of graceful curves.
“Catch the idea?” he asked.