Mr. Thompson bowed gallantly, and introduced himself as Mr. John Thompson, of New York. Then he continued: "I don't like to be inquisitive, but your having a lantern makes me peculiarly interested in you; would you mind telling me something about yourself?"
"Certainly not," answered the bird: "I should be most happy to do so. I was born in Florida. We live there in great villages of five or six thousand families, and we generally take a trip every summer for our health. We stop along by the way, and some prefer to spend the summer in one place and some in another, so you see that by the time we get here we are pretty well scattered. When we get here we go to housekeeping. But," he added, deftly snapping up a fish in his long bill, and tossing it to Mr. Thompson, "just eat that, and I'll show you the rest."
Mr. Thompson swallowed the fish without thinking. In a moment he began to experience the most peculiar sensations. His neck began to stretch, his nose to elongate, his hands and arms became covered with feathers. Almost before he knew it he was a full-grown Quak.
"Now," remarked Mr. Nycticorax, "you look something like other people. If you will just follow me, I will introduce you to some of my friends who are keeping house over here in the woods. Come."
"Come," urged Mrs. Nycticorax, and the two flapped their wings and flew rapidly over toward the woods. Mr. Thompson followed, and soon they alighted on the top branch of a tall tree. Just beneath them was a large nest built of twigs; on it was seated a motley-looking Quak, who welcomed Mr. Thompson cordially.
She raised herself a little, and proudly showed four light green eggs. In another tree was a small family about three weeks old. They could not fly yet, but had climbed out of the nest with the aid of their strong bills and claws, and were perched comfortably on a high limb waiting for their parents to return from a fishing excursion.
After Mr. Thompson had talked for some little time, he suddenly remembered that his friends at the farm-house would be worried at his prolonged absence. As he was about to excuse himself, his friend said, "I will go back with you as far as where we first met."
Soon they were again on the shore of the creek, and Mr. Nycticorax was saying good-night, when Mr. Thompson detained him.
"One more question," said that unwearied searcher after knowledge. "What is your lantern composed of?"
"Some kind of phosphorus or other," replied the bird, and at the same time threw back his breast feathers.