"That, I could not be sure of, especially if as many false things are told about them, as are told about me; but when I was a tadpole in the pond, that old hag of an owl was still hooting away, in the treetops, scaring children, as in ages gone. She is older than I. Go and see her. If age makes wise, she is the wisest of all."
Puck went into the forest, but at first saw no bird answering to the description given him.
He said to himself, "She is, I wonder, who?"
He was surprised to hear his question repeated, not as an echo, but by another. Still, he thought it might possibly be his own voice come back.
So, in making a catalogue, in his note book, of what he had seen and heard that day, he put down, "To wit—one echo."
Again came the sound:
"To whit—to who, to whit—to who?" Sounded the voice.
Thinking that this was intended to be a polite question, Puck looked up. Sure enough, there was the wise bird sitting on a bough, above him, as sober as a judge.
"Who! did you ask?" answered Puck and then went on to explain:
"I am Lord of the Fairies in Welshery, and I seek to know which is the most venerable, of all the creatures in the Land of the Red Dragon.