“I’m too old to begin gymnastics,” went on the Stork, as Buddie remained silent. “You can’t teach an old stork new tricks. Though I dare say I could stand on one leg if I tried.”
“You wouldn’t be very smart if you couldn’t,” said Buddie, tartly. The bird had a most provoking air about him.
“Tut! tut! I’m old enough, child, to be your grandfather. We’ll see about this gymnastic business.”
So saying, the stork lifted one leg, and attempted to balance on the other; but, to Buddie’s great delight he fell ingloriously on his head, his long bill running into the soft ground like a fork into a well-done potato.
It isn’t polite to laugh at one old enough to be your grandfather; so Buddie checked her glee and ran to help the unfortunate bird to rise.
“Don’t be silly,” he said, declining assistance, and making a great clatter with his bill, as all storks do when excited or angry. “Don’t be silly. You’ll be teaching a fish to swim next.”
A second and third attempt to stand on one leg met with no better success than the first, the Stork falling first one way and then another, and all the time working himself into an extremely bad temper.
“Perhaps if you leaned against a tree you could do it,” Buddie ventured to advise.
“That’s not a bad idea,” said the Stork, slightly mollified; and he proceeded to put the idea into effect, with entire success. “Now, then,” said he, “take the tree away and see if I can stand alone.”
“I can’t take the tree away,” demurred Buddie; “but you can lean against me, if you like, and when you’re ready I’ll walk off.”