Chapter 11

THE BIG WIND



FOR several days after his unlucky journey across the meadow, when he tried to reach the field where Farmer Green was harvesting his oats, Daddy Longlegs did not wander far from the stone wall.

But one day Rusty Wren told him that his cousin, Long Bill Wren, was going to give a party at his house in the reeds on the bank of Black Creek. And although he had not been invited to the party, Daddy Longlegs thought it would be pleasant to go to it.

Accordingly he started off at once, though the party was not to take place until the afternoon of the following day. But Daddy Longlegs knew that he was a slow walker--and Black Creek was a long distance away.

Now, it was a fine, beautiful morning when Daddy set forth on his journey. And he travelled steadily all day long without meeting with an adventure of any sort.

When night came he crept inside an old fallen tree-trunk. And he went to sleep feeling very happy, because he was thinking what a good time he was going to have at the party the next afternoon.

But when morning came, and Daddy Longlegs crawled out of the hollow tree to continue his journey, he had a great disappointment. The moment he thrust his head out of his hiding-place he knew that he was in trouble. And he saw at once that he would have to miss Rusty Wren's cousin's party, because he certainly couldn't go on, with the weather as it was.

Yet the sun was shining brightly. And there was scarcely a cloud to be seen in the sky.

A person might naturally wonder, then, what Daddy Longlegs could have found to worry him. It wasn't raining. And it certainly wasn't snowing, because it was not much later than midsummer.

Nevertheless Daddy Longlegs looked upon the fields with a most mournful face.

"I can't travel in this terrible wind!" he muttered. "If I had known there was going to be such a blow I would never have left home."

And now you know what Daddy's trouble was. With his small body raised so high in the air by his long, thin legs he always found it hard to walk when the wind was blowing a gale. The strong gusts buffeted him about so that he pitched and tossed like a chip on the mill pond when its surface was ruffled. And Daddy had learned quite early in his life to seek some sheltered spot on windy days, venturing forth only when the air was calmer.

Of course it was never any too pleasant, to be obliged to lie low like that, when there were a hundred things he wanted to do. But it was much worse to be caught far away from home in a terrible gale. Not only was there no knowing how long he would have to stay hidden in the fallen tree before he dared begin his long homeward journey, but he had no one with whom he could talk. And it had always been Daddy's custom to spend gusty days as agreeably as possible by gossiping with his neighbors.

Besides,