But in the midst of his grand eloquence, Tiny was interrupted. As he stood beating the air with his little paws, trying to impress his hearers, there came a flapping of wings overhead.
His terrified hearers fled in all directions, but before he could escape he was seized and borne high into the air—up, up amongst the tree-tops.
He was too much frightened to cry out. He could only wait until the dreadful creature that held him in his clutches should set him free. His blood almost froze in his veins. He wondered what he should do if his frail limbs were broken, or if he should be cast down in some lonely place to perish. Perhaps he would be eaten. His heart fell within him.
After traveling for some time in this unusual and uncomfortable manner, he found himself in a nest of great size, with the owl prophet staring at him with big yellow eyes.
HE FOUND HIMSELF IN A NEST OF HUGE SIZE, WITH THE OWL PROPHET STARING AT HIM WITH BIG, YELLOW EYES.
Although he was in a quiver of fright, like many other small creatures, he did not wish to appear concerned, so he smiled feebly and said:
“Hello!”
“How dare you be so bold?” cried the owl in a dry, unnatural voice. “Do you think I am a telephone?”
“Pardon me,” said Tiny weakly. “My grammar is very bad.”