The Tale of Daddy Longlegs | Page 3

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 was glad to claim him as a friend.
At least, everybody but Mr. Crow! Mr. Crow soon found that people
were asking Daddy's advice on all sorts of questions (because they
thought he was very old--and therefore very wise). And Mr. Crow at
once became so jealous that he didn't know what to do. He began
making unkind remarks about his new rival, saying that no matter how
old a person might be, if he had a small head and eight long legs it was
not reasonable to believe that he could have much of a brain. Whenever
anybody mentioned Daddy's name, Mr. Crow would haw-haw loudly
and mutter something about "old Spindley Legs!"
Mr. Crow had spent many summers in Pleasant Valley. And during that
time he had advised thousands of his neighbors. Indeed, he often
boasted that if he had a kernel of corn for every bit of advice he had
given away, he never would have to wonder where he was going to get
his next meal.
When some friend of Mr. Crow's repeated that speech to Daddy
Longlegs, he observed that Mr. Crow must be very wise.
"No doubt----" he added in his thin, quavering voice--"no doubt Mr.
Crow's help would be worth a kernel of corn to anybody who was in
trouble. If his advice was good, no one would object to paying for it.
And if it proved to be bad, no one would miss a kernel of corn."
It happened that Daddy Longlegs' comment soon reached the ears of
old Mr. Crow. And it made that gentleman furious.
"This is the first time anybody has suggested that my advice is not
always first-class!" he croaked. "Here's this long-legged upstart
interfering in my affairs. I must teach him a lesson!" Mr. Crow
declared.
Well, that very afternoon he challenged Daddy Longlegs to a contest.

"I intend to prove," said Mr. Crow, "that my advice is always good; and
that yours is always bad."
"Very well!" Daddy Longlegs answered. "But I advise you to go home
at once, Mr. Crow. You're very hoarse. And I'm sure you ought to be in
bed."
Now, the old gentleman was always hoarse. And since he disliked to
have anyone mention his infirmity, his eyes snapped angrily.
"I advise you----" he roared----"I advise you to keep your advice to
yourself."
Of course that was a rude speech. But Daddy Longlegs did not take
offense at it. He straightway told Mr. Crow that he ought to wear
rubbers. And Mr. Crow was so enraged that he couldn't speak for as
much as half an hour.
It was understood that the contest between Daddy and Mr. Crow would
take place the following morning. And when that time came a big
crowd had gathered upon the stone wall to see the fun.

IV
THE CONTEST
"MY cousin, Jasper Jay, has kindly consented to ask us some
questions," Mr. Crow informed Daddy Longlegs. "And he will decide
which of us makes the wiser answers."
Buster Bumblebee, who was watching and listening, said:
"That's hardly fair, it seems to me."
But old Mr. Crow quickly told him that he was a stupid fellow and that
he'd better keep still. And since a good many other people had
frequently said the same thing to that young gentleman, Buster began to

think there might be some truth in it. So he said nothing more.
Meanwhile Daddy Longlegs beamed upon all the company. And Mr.
Crow looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Then he said to Daddy,
"I suppose you've no objection to this plan?"
"It suits me very well," Daddy replied.
"I thought it would," said old Mr. Crow with a smirk. And turning to
his cousin, Jasper Jay, he remarked in a low voice that Daddy Longlegs
was even duller than he had imagined.
Then Jasper Jay announced that he would put the first question. And
after he had heard Mr. Crow's opinion he would listen to Daddy
Longlegs'.
"When is the best time to plant corn?" Jasper then asked Mr. Crow,
while the whole company craned their necks and strained their ears--for
of course they didn't want to miss anything.
Mr. Crow made no answer for a few moments. He appeared to be
thinking deeply. But at last he looked up and