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Updated: May 26, 2025
When she went out in the morning, the kookooburras were gurgling and laughing, the magpies were warbling, the parrakeets made their twittering, and Willy Wagtail was most lively; but Dot was astonished to find that she could not understand what any of the creatures said, although they were all very friendly towards her.
She told Dot how she had found Willy Wagtail near his old haunt; how that gossiping little bird had told all the news of the Gabblebabble town and district in ten minutes, and how he had said he believed he knew Dot by sight, and that if such were the case he would show Dot and the Kangaroo the way to the little girl's home.
"How are flies this morning?" "Scarce, very scarce," said the wagtail. "There was a poacher out on my place catching the poor things with a machine, which he shot at them. One of the lowest-looking, rough customers you ever saw. He said his name was Brown Toad, and quite insulted me about my figure, an ugly, pumpkin shaped, pod-nosed thing." "Oh!
At the sound of Dot and the Kangaroo's approach Chip-pi-ti-chip hid herself in a tree, and Willy Wagtail, not knowing who was disturbing them, scolded angrily; but when he saw the Kangaroo and the little girl, he gave them the most cordial greeting, and wobbled about on a rail as if he must tumble off every second.
"Why he is in the same part that he nested in last season. It's no distance off," exclaimed the Wagtail. "If you could fly, you'd be there almost directly!" Then the bird gave a long description of the way they were to follow to find his cousin Willy, and with many warm thanks the Kangaroo and Dot bade him adieu.
The controversy was referred to us; and Banter, notwithstanding his real opinion to the contrary, decided it in favour of Wagtail; upon which the peevish annuitant arose, and uttering the monosyllable pish! with great emphasis, removed to another table.
Wagtail introduces me to set of fine Gentlemen with whom I spend the Evening at a Tavern our Conversation the Characters of my new Companions the Doctor is roasted our Issue of our Debauch I accepted his offer with pleasure, and we went thither in a hackney coach where I saw a great number of gay figures fluttering about, most of whom spoke to the doctor with great familiarity.
His face was much flushed, although I learned that he had been unusually abstemious, and he appeared heated and restless, and had evidently feverish symptoms about him. "Who's there?" said Wagtail, looking towards the door with a raised look. It was Tailtackle, with two of the boys carrying a litter, followed by Peter Mangrove, as if he had been chief mourner at a funeral.
So many of them are like this. Some of the labouring people who work by the numerous streamlets say that the wagtail dives, goes right under water like a diver now and then a circumstance I have not noticed myself. There is a custom of serving up water-cress with roast fowl; it is also sometimes boiled like a garden vegetable.
By this time the boat was alongside, with Messieurs Aaron Bang, Pepperpot Wagtail, and Paul Gelid the former with his cot, and half a dozen cases of wine, and some pigs, and some poultry, all under the charge of his black servant. "Hillo," said I "Mr Wagtail is at home here, you know, Mr Bang, and so is Mr Gelid; but to what lucky chance am I indebted for your society, my dear sir?"
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