And then, as he saw Flitter twist and turn, fly high, fly low,
and go round and round, Peter's head would begin to swim and grow
dizzy, and he wondered and wondered how it was that Flitter himself
didn't grow dizzy.
"It must be fine to fly," thought Peter. "I wish I could fly. If I
could, I wouldn't spend all my time flying around the way Flitter
does. I'd go on long journeys and see the Great World. I'd fly way,
way up in the blue, blue sky, the way Ol' Mistah Buzzard does, where I
could look down and see all that is going on in the Green Forest and
on the Green Meadows. And I'd fly in the daytime, because there is
more going on then. I wonder, now, why it is that Flitter never comes
out until after jolly, round, red Mr. Sun has gone to bed behind the
Purple Hills. I never see him in the daytime, and I don't even know
where he keeps himself. I never thought of it before, but I wonder why
it is that he flies only at night. I believe I'll ask Grandfather Frog
the very next time I see him."
Now you know that once Peter Rabbit's curiosity is aroused, it just
has to be satisfied. No sooner did he begin to wonder about Flitter
the Bat than he could think of nothing else. So he watched until the
way was clear, and then he started for the Smiling Pool as fast as he
could go, lipperty-lipperty-lip. He hoped he would find Grandfather
Frog sitting as usual on his big green lily-pad, and that he would be
good-natured. If he wasn't feeling good-natured, it would be of no use
to ask him for a story.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89