‘Oh!’ said Elsie.
‘Yes, indeed,’ said the Crow, and suddenly grew smaller till he could come comfortably through the square opening. He did this, perched on the top bar, and hopped to the floor. And there he got bigger and bigger, and bigger and bigger and bigger. Elsie had scrambled to her feet, and then a black little girl of eight and of the usual size stood face to face with a crow as big as a man, and no doubt as old. She found words then.
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‘Oh, don’t!’ she cried. ‘Don’t get any bigger. I can’t bear it.’
‘I can’t do it,’ said the Crow kindly, ‘so that’s all right. I thought you’d better get used to seeing rather large crows before I take you to Crownowland. We are all life-size there.’
‘But a crow’s life-size isn’t a man’s life-size,’ Elsie managed to say.
‘Oh yes, it is—when it’s an enchanted Crow,’ the bird replied. ‘That makes all the difference. Now you were saying you wanted to tame something. If you’ll come with me to Crownowland I’ll show you something worth taming.’
‘Is Crow-what’s-its-name a nice place?’
Elsie asked cautiously. She was, somehow, not so very frightened now.
‘Very,’ said the Crow.
‘Then perhaps I shall like it so much I sha’n’t want to be taming things.’