human
Book larnin', he said,
gpt
I remember one of his sermons, which he delivered to me one bright October afternoon, when the woods were all russet and gold, the squirrels chattering in the trees, the nuts dropping, the partridges whirring and drumming, and the soft autumnal light was faintly struggling along the aisles of the forest.
human
You see, said Venison,
gpt
he continued,
human
Know! said I;
gpt
Know! know! continued Venison.
human
Birds think and talk--yes, they do--_they_ know. I've heerd 'em talk to one another, from tree-top to tree-top, across these woods many a time--lay plans many a day. What makes 'em flockin' around us to-day, and soarin' around in companies, if they don't understand each other? They go round and round for a week or two, visit this wood and that, jabber, and fret, and fume, pick up a straggler here, 'nother there, and when they get a good ready, and are flock'd, off they go, travellin' south. Hain't they got col'nels, captins, and laws?--they are jest as much of a body as our school de-strict is, and every bird knows what he is about, what he is going to do, and how, too.
gpt
Why don't all the blackbirds go into one flock, Venison?
human
There 'tis! there 'tis! replied Venison;
gpt
he continued,
human
Do you think they will come back again, Venison?
gpt
Back again! back again! he exclaimed, looking up to me with surprise.
human
Why, man, this is their home--they were born 'here. This is their ground, hereabouts. They know every tree, and mash, and river for miles 'round. You'll hear 'em chatterin' and gabblin' by next April 'gain.
gpt
Doubtful,
human
Well, now, said Venison,
gpt
I've tried that. Down to where I live, the blackbirds and robins are thick as spatter. They make it all ring round me. I caught a dozen or more of each in a net one fall, cut off one toe all round, and let 'em go. Jim Spikes bet they wouldn't come back; I bet they would. I wanted to try it, you see. When spring came on again there the fellers were, sure enough, or most on 'em, on hand, ready for summer's business again. Jim gin in--he did.
human
I should think they would stray away, Venison,
gpt
Don't you believe in a God! broke out Venison, in an animated tone.
human
When He made 'em, He put a compass inter their heads that can't get out of fix, and they run jest as straight by it as my dog does by his nose--and a dog's nose is _his_ compass, you know.