dreaming that she was lonesome, for no one had told
her what lonesome was. She loved to go wading in the cool waters; she
loved to catch the little fish who swam by unsuspectingly while she
stood still upon one leg pretending to think about something a thousand
miles away. And she loved to look at her slender, long-legged blue
reflection in the water; for the lady Heron was just a little bit vain.

Now one day Mr. Stork came flying over the mushy-squshy, wady-shady
swamp where the Heron lived, and he too saw the reflection in the water.
And he said to himself, "My! How pretty she is! I wonder I never noticed
her before. And how lonesome she must be there all by herself in such a
nasty, moist, mushy-squshy old swamp! I will invite her to come and
share my nice, warm, dry nest on the chimney-top. For to tell the truth,
I am growing lonely up there all by myself. Why should we not make a
match of it, we two long-legged creatures?"

Mr. Stork went home to his house, which he set prettily in order: for he
never dreamed but that the lady Heron would accept his offer at the very
first croak. He preened his feathers and made himself as lovely as he
could, and forthwith off he flew with his long legs dangling, straight
to the wady-shady swamp where Miss Heron was standing on one leg waiting
for her supper to get itself caught.

"Ahem!" croaked Mr. Stork, waving his wing politely. "Good evening, Miss
Heron. Fine weather we are having, eh? But how horribly moist it is down
here! I should think that your nice straight legs would grow crooked
with rheumatism. Now I have a comfortable, dry house on the roof."

"Pouf!" grunted Miss Heron disdainfully.

But Mr. Stork pretended not to hear, and went on with his remarks,--"a
nice dry house which I should be glad to have you share with me. Come,
Miss Heron! Here I am a lonely old bachelor, and here are you a lonely
old maid"--

"Lonely old maid, indeed!" screamed the Heron interrupting him. "I don't
know what it is to be lonely. Go along with you!" and she splashed water
on him with her wings, she was so indignant.

Poor Mr. Stork felt very crestfallen at this reception of his
well-meaning invitation. He turned about and stalked away towards his
nest upon the roof, without so much as saying good-by to the lady.

But no sooner was he out of sight than Miss Heron began to think. He had
said that she was lonely; was she lonely? Well, perhaps he ought to know
better than she, for he