The Tale of Daddy Longlegs | Page 2

and told Rusty that he was wanted by the roadside at once.
So Rusty flew straight to the stone wall, where he found little Mr. Chippy all aflutter. Mr. Chippy dropped quickly into the road, pointing to some tiny marks in the dust.
"Are those like the tracks you saw?" he asked.
"Yes--the very same!" cried Rusty Wren. "And now you can see for yourself that there must have been a crowd."
To his surprise Mr. Chippy shook his head.
"There was only one person----" he said--"one person with eight legs!"
"Why do you think that?" Rusty Wren asked him doubtfully.
"I don't think it. I know it!" Mr. Chippy replied. "I've seen the person six times to-day with my own eyes."
"What does he look like?" Rusty Wren inquired.
"Like nobody else I ever saw!" Mr. Chippy exclaimed. "His legs are long and thin; and his body is very small. And though his mouth makes me think of a pair of pincers, he seems quite friendly and harmless."
"What's his name?" asked Busty Wren.
"I don't know," said Mr. Chippy. "But there's only one name that fits him. I've already called him by it. And he seemed to like it, too."
"What's that?" Rusty persisted.
"Daddy Longlegs!" said little Mr. Chippy.

II
THE NEW NEIGHBOR
ALL the neighbors began to call him "Daddy Longlegs." And anyone might naturally think that he had lived in Pleasant Valley a great many years. But it was not so. Late in the summer Daddy Longlegs had appeared from nobody knew where.
Although people often inquired where his old home was, he always pretended that he didn't hear them--and began to talk about the weather.
And as for Daddy Longlegs' new home in Pleasant Valley, nobody knew much about that either. No matter how curious anyone might be, it did him no good at all to ask Daddy Longlegs where he lived. When prying persons put that question to him, Daddy Longlegs always waved his eight legs in every direction and answered "Over there!"
Of course such a reply told nothing to anyone. And it led to a good many disputes among Daddy Longlegs' neighbors. No two could ever agree as to which of Daddy's legs really pointed toward the place where he dwelt.
Anyhow, the wily gentleman was frequently seen scrambling about the stone wall by the roadside, near Farmer Green's house. And little Mr. Chippy, who made his home in the wild grapevine that grew on the wall, always claimed that Daddy Longlegs was a neighbor of his.
"He's a good neighbor, too," Mr. Chippy told his friends. "He's very quiet and he never quarrels. And he's always pleasant and ready for a chat. It's too bad that he's deaf. I've asked him at least a dozen times how old he is; but he never seems to hear me."
Old Mr. Crow, who liked nothing better than prying into other people's affairs, slowly shook his head at that. And coughing slightly he remarked in a hoarse voice that there must be reasons why Daddy Longlegs wouldn't tell where he came from, nor where he was living, nor how old he was.
But Mr. Crow wouldn't say what he thought might be the reasons. Although he was a wise bird, there were some things he didn't know.
Now, in a way Mr. Crow was right. Daddy Longlegs had the best of reasons for keeping some facts to himself. In the first place, he had never lived anywhere except in Pleasant Valley. In the second place, he was scarcely more than two months old when people began to notice him in the neighborhood of the stone wall. And in the third place, since he was somewhat timid he thought it just as well if people didn't know where he made his home.
He was--as his friends often said--an odd person. For instance, he had always looked old, from the very first. And when everyone began to call him "Daddy" it was only to be expected that he would not care to let people know that he was not even a year old--instead of ninety or a hundred, as they supposed. Besides, probably nobody would have believed the truth. So he never told his age.
Indeed, there were some who claimed that Daddy Longlegs must be much more than only a hundred years old. They thought that his queer, tottering walk alone was enough to show his great age.
But it is not strange that his walk seemed a bit uncertain. When a person has eight feet it is to be expected that he will have a little trouble managing them. It is to be expected that he will sometimes find himself trying to walk off in several different directions at the same time.

III
MR. CROW IS DISPLEASED
DADDY LONGLEGS had such pleasant manners that it was no time at all before his neighbors agreed that he was a good old soul. And everybody