“‘Good morning, Old One,’ said the disrespectful yellow bird. Then she danced on Smudge’s lip and tickled his ear. When he bent branches to capture her she darted away and came back to laugh and impudently put her fingers to her nose. Sentimental old Smudge sighed and whispered:
“‘Oh, Loveliness! I wish you were more serious so that I could love you the more.’
“Indignantly, Loveliness flew away, down into the valley and flirted with a baby daisy. Smudge laughed indulgently, in the manner of the aged, and called to him his counselor. Can you guess who his counselor was, Butterfly? It was a man-baby, a tiny pink one, with just a bit of sunny hair on his head and funny, fat little wrinkles on his baby body. He was the counselor because he was Youth, and only Youth and Smudge could live forever. Smudge became dignified and said:
“‘Oh, Wise One, what is the business of the day?’
“The baby-being laughed and caught a grasshopper and said:
“‘The Blackbird.’
“‘The Blackbird?’ stormed Smudge. ‘What have I to do with her? Day and day again I have said that she is nothing to me; poor, somber bit of ebony. I want sunshine and the crystal’s colors and dancing and happiness; not blackness.’
“The man-baby laughed and stuck a blade of grass in the grasshopper’s ear and whispered:
“‘Silly, silly! If the Blackbird loves you so much, then you must have to do with her, for her love makes her more precious than all your other subjects.’
“Smudge sneered and made a nasty remark about the words of infants.