ute Longlegs was standing just as
before, with seemingly no neck at all. Peter watched until he grew
tired, but Longlegs didn't move again. After that Peter went every
chance he had to watch Longlegs, but he never had patience to watch long
enough to see Longlegs catch another fish. He spoke of it one day to
Grandfather Frog. At the mere mention of Longlegs, Grandfather Frog sat
up and took notice.

"Where did you see him?" asked Grandfather Frog, and Peter thought his
voice sounded anxious.

"Down the Laughing Brook," replied Peter. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," said Grandfather Frog, trying to make his voice sound as
if he weren't interested. "I just wondered where the long-legged
nuisance might be."

"He's the laziest fellow I ever saw," declared Peter. "He just stands
doing nothing all day."

"Huh!" exclaimed Grandfather Frog. "If your family had suffered from him
as much as mine has, you would say that he was altogether too busy. Ask
the Trout what they think, or the Minnow family."

"Oh," said Peter, "you mean that when he stands still that way he is
fishing."

Grandfather Frog nodded.

"Well," said Peter, "all I can say is that he is the most patient fellow
I ever saw. I didn't suppose there was such patience."

"He comes rightly by it," returned Grandfather Frog. "He gets it from
his great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather, who lived when the world was
young. He learned it then."

"How?" demanded Peter, eager for a story.

Grandfather Frog's eyes took on a far-away look, as if he were seeing
into that long-ago past. "Chug-a-rum!" he began. "It always seemed to
old Mr. Heron as if Old Mother Nature must have made him last of all the
birds and was in such a hurry that she didn't care how he looked. His
legs were so long and his neck was so long that all his neighbors
laughed at him and made fun of him. He was just as awkward as he looked.
His long legs were in his way. He didn't know what to do with his long
neck. When he tried to run, everybody shouted with laughter. When he
tried to fly, he stretched his long neck out, and then he couldn't keep
his balance and just flopped about, while all his neighbors laughed
harder than ever. Poor Mr. Heron was ashamed of himself, actually
ashamed of himself. He quite overlooked the fact that Old Mother Nature
had given him a really beautiful coat of feathers. Some of those who
laughed at him would have given anything to have possessed such a
beautiful coat. But Mr. Her