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That bill of his is so sharp and he is so quick that few folks ever bother him more than once. Why, there isn't a single member of the Hawk family that Hummer won't attack. There isn't a cowardly feather on him." "Does he go very far south for the winter?" asked Peter. "He is such a tiny fellow I don't see how he can stand a very long journey." "Huh!" exclaimed Jenny Wren.
From one end of the great long street to the other, from the first floor to the roof of every house and every palace, there is one steady twinkling of tiny flames, of torches, of large and small lights; the effect is surprising and peculiar. As soon as the first light appeared, young men and girls ran and tried to blow each other's candles out.
And thence, with one half of the Perrier-Jouet I would accept no more we voyaged in a hack to the Norah Creina. "What a dear little ship!" cried Mamie, as our miniature craft was pointed out to her. And then, on second thought, she turned to the best man. "And how brave you must be, Mr. Dodd," she cried, "to go in that tiny thing so far upon the ocean!"
I was only dreaming that I was hunting with father, and he shot at the beautiful pheasants that were making such a whirring of wings for me. It was music. When can I hunt with father, dear gentlemen?" They all felt the tread of the mighty hunter before the Lord very near at hand the hunter whose name is Death. "There are little tiny birds along the beach," muttered the boy.
Not a servant had remained in the home upon which the curse of God had descended; even the two women slaves had fled in the dusk of the evening, gone, I knew not whither, and now I little cared. My surviving wife and children, tiny infants, a girl and a boy, were asleep in an inner room; I had glanced at their slumbering forms when passing to the corridor that led to the secret doorway.
Several window-panes had been broken out, but the one marked with two bullet holes, radiating tiny cracks in the glass, was still there. The oilcloth on the table was torn and soiled. The mud of wet weather had been tracked about the floor. The stove was rusted and cracked.
His young brothers and sisters crowded round his little bed, and seized his tiny hand, so cold and heavy; but they shrank back from its touch, and looked with awe on his infant face; for calm and tranquil as it was, and sleeping in rest and peace as the beautiful child seemed to be, they saw that he was dead, and they knew that he was an angel looking down upon, and blessing them, from a bright and happy Heaven.
From this center issues the violent little pride and lustiness which kicks with glee, or crows with tiny exultance in its own being, or which claws the breast with a savage little rapacity, and an incipient masterfulness of which every mother is aware.
The wall is not very thick, but is put together tightly so the wind will not blow it away, and it is hollow. It is in this mound that the bees store their honey for the winter. During the warm summer days they work hard, carrying tiny drops of honey which they gather from the flowers and storing it so they will have something to eat during the cold weather.
His favourite companions are Shelley, Wordsworth, and a bull terrier, and he is said to play billiards with "grim earnestness." In 1907 he published a tiny volume called The Last Blackbird, and in 1917 another and tinier one called Poems. During this decade he printed in a few paper booklets, which some day will be valuable curiosities, separate pieces such as Eve, The Bull, The Mystery.
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