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Various

"The Best Short Stories of 1921 and the Yearbook of the American Short Story"

But Luba had a reputation for being a liar, and none believed
her although all enjoyed listening. "Such good imagination," they would
say, after she was gone.
Peter grew up a little lame, but this defect seemed only to add to his
nimbleness. He could climb a telegraph pole sideways like a parrot
walking up a stick. Once on top he would swing his good leg around the
cross beam and wave his hat--and from below a flight of flapping and
fluttering birds would arise.
In this way he lived and grew to the age of sixteen, although his small,
protruding bones and round, child-like eyes kept him looking younger.
Where he slept and where he ate, all remained a mystery to the village
folk; but this mystery was not near as great as another--
The schoolmaster once noticed that at times the pigeons seemed all grey,
and at other times the greater number of them carried large pink
breasts; also at times there were few, while on other days the streets
and market-place were thickly dotted with nodding, pecking birds; also
that never could they find the very young ones.
It seemed as though only Peter knew the secret--but when asked about it
he would show a silly grin and shy away, pretending to be much occupied
chasing the birds that ever flocked about him.
He would travel about from barn to barn collecting the feed that fell
from the bins of careless animals.


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