146 
NATURE’S CRAFTSMEN 
that reminds me, did I tell you of the little family 
I saw yesterday? I was coming home from 
Daddy Thornton’s up across the cornfield, going 
sly, with an eye open for whatever I might meet, 
when I stumbled upon the prettiest sight I’ve 
ever seen—a mother quail and some twenty-five 
or thirty of the heartiest, fluffiest, bright-eyed lit¬ 
tle babies. Mrs. Bob never even had a hint of 
me, and she was rustling grub for dear life. She 
would give an odd little cry which I soon learned 
meant: ‘Watch, now; keep your eyes open . 9 
Then she would jump up against a stalk, and 
beat it sharply with her wings. Instantly a 
shower of bugs would fall, and such a scramble 
as there was then among the babies! I watched 
the busy little crew for a half hour or more, and 
you don’t know how glad I was, Father, that you 
have always insisted that no one should hunt 
quail on our farm.” 
