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Updated: July 21, 2025
O Lord, hear mo, and gie mo mo Mattie. Nea, aw'll geet oop, and go look again. First Boy. Ain't he a cricket, Tommy? Second Boy. Spry, ain't he? Prod him, and see him jump. Tho. Why, childer, what have aw done, that yo cry after mo like a thief? First Boy. Daddy Longlegs! Daddy Longlegs! They hustle and crowd him. Re-enter BILL. THOMAS makes a rush. They run. He seizes BILL. They gather again.
Green makes at the farmhouse." "And what, pray tell, have you been talking about all this time?" Mrs. Ladybug gasped. "The butter-and-eggs in the meadow!" Daddy Longlegs informed her. "I suppose you know the plant, don't you?" "I've heard of it," Mrs. Ladybug replied. "But I doubt if there is such a thing." "And I say there is!" Buster Bumblebee clamored.
Then Daddy Longlegs wished his callers a pleasant afternoon and begged to be excused, on account of important business. And as they watched him walk briskly away his neighbors all agreed that for a person who had just lost a leg he seemed wonderfully spry. DADDY LONGLEGS' neighbor, little Mr. Chippy, had an idea.
Grandfather Frog yawned again, nodded as if he were too sleepy to keep awake, and half closed his eyes. Longlegs waited and waited. Then, little by little, so slowly that if you had been there you would hardly have seen him move, he drew his long neck down until his head rested on his shoulders. "I guess I must wait until he falls sound asleep again," said Longlegs to himself.
This had made old Whitetail angrier than ever, and then to be called bad names robber and thief! It was more than any self-respecting Hawk could stand. Yes, Sir, it certainly was! He fairly shook with rage as he turned in the air once more and made straight for Longlegs the Blue Heron. "I'm no more robber and thief than you are!" he shrieked. "You frightened away my Frog!" screamed Longlegs.
And there Peter Mink stood in the moon-lit meadow, with his new shoes on his feet, and with Daddy Longlegs hidden in the toe of his right shoe. But no matter if it was the right shoe, Daddy Longlegs thought it was all wrong. IT was not exactly a pleasant ride that Daddy Longlegs had in the toe of Peter Mink's shoe.
FOR a long time Daddy Longlegs lay inside the hollow, fallen tree and looked out upon the wind-swept fields. If the stone wall hadn't been so far away he would certainly have tried to return home. But the weather was altogether too dangerous. He knew it would be risky to attempt so long a journey.
"I've broken one of my legs, Dr. Whiskers," cried Daddy Longlegs. "Can you mend it for me, or must I limp on a cane the rest of my days?" "Mend it? Of course I can," laughed Dr. Whiskers. "Let me catch my breath. I hustled some and am puffing considerable. Now then for some splints and a stout string.
It made housekeeping an easy matter and left him plenty of time, every night, to fiddle and frolic. Somehow Chirpy could never go from one place to another in a slow, sober walk. He always moved by leaps, as if he felt too gay to plod along like Daddy Longlegs, for instance. Chirpy himself often remarked that he hadn't time to move slowly.
Our hero lay awake for some time listening to the heavy breathing of his new comrades, and then turned over and fell asleep. The bright morning sunshine was streaming in through the big windows when the clear, ringing notes of reveille and the cheery strains of "Old Daddy Longlegs" roused him to consciousness of where he was. "Now then, my lads, show a leg there!" cried the sergeant.
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