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Els TABL's HED 1871
THE MAY G. QUIGLEY
COLLECTION
OF CHILDREN'S LITERATURE


THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN-DEARSORN LIBRARY
Donated by the
Grand Rapids Public Library
The May G. Quigley
Collection
of Children's Literature
December 2001
The University of Michigan-Dearborn
Mardigian Library


The Exciting Adventures
E A R L and L IN E TT E B U R T ON
Illustrated by HELEN STONE
T H E J U N10 R LI : E R A.R.Y.: UILD
- - and .. ... .. -
W#TTLESEY: HOUSE #
Mc G R AW. H ILL BOOK COMPANY, IN C.


The ExCiTiNG ADVENTURES OF WALDO
Copyright, 1945, by McGraw-Hill Book Co., Inc.
All rights reserved, This book, or parts thereof, may not be
reproduced in any form without permission of the publisher.
* * -
-
This book is produced in full compliance
with the government's regulations for con-
serving paper and other essential materials.
PUBLISHER: BY WHITTEESEY HotSE
A divisiónáh. McGraw-Hill Kičompany:Hic.
Printed in the United States of America


_
The duck in the water did not reply. Suddenly the little
wooden duck had a dreadful lonely thought. The duck in the
water—that was not a crooked-billed friend. It was his own
reflection. And his heart was filled with sadness as he realized
that he was all alone.
“It is true, I am not a very beautiful little duck,” he thought to
himself. “Perhaps the old duckmaster was right to throw me
away. But at least I can have a name.” And the little duck looked
at his reflection in the water again.
“I think my name shall be Waldo. Yes. That will be my name.”
And the little duck looked at his reflection and was very happy
that he had a name.
Waldo peered out from behind the slim stems of the cattails
where he had floated and wondered whatto do now that he had
3 I13I'I'l€ .
“Here I am,” he thought, “quite alone. It is growing very
dark, and the wind is trying to rustle my fine green feathers, but
I am a brave duck, a very brave little duck, for I am not at all
afraid!” _ . .
“Chug-a-lunk!” said a great deep-voiced bullfrog, and Wal-
do’s heart leaped into his little wooden throat.
“I am not very much afraid,” he added hastily, blinking his
bright yellow eyes very quickly and taking a long, deep breath,
0.
“Verymuch . . . verymuch . . .” laughed the wind to the
willow tree and blew gently against Waldo’s painted tail feathers.
I I


Very, very slowly Waldo began to turn in the water. Slowly
. . . slowly . . . then faster and faster, until he was whirling so
swiftly on‘the surface of the stream that his head grew dizzy.
“Whirl . . . whirl . . .” cried a sleepy partridge, settling
herself comfortably in the warm thicket beyond the banks of the
stream. And poor little Waldo whirled even faster in the water.
A branch of a slim white birch tree reached down from the
water’s edge and gave Waldo a playful nudge. From the bank of
the stream, Waldo heard the soft-voiced chuckle of a tree as he
barely misseda collision with a black waterbug scooting by to
get home for his supper. .
“Excuse me,” said Waldo, turning even more quickly.
“Not at all,” answered the bug, who skimmed toward the bank
of the creek.
All things that had seemed so beautiful before were hidden
now. Everything was strange and black.
“I am not at all brave,” Waldo whimpered and shut his eyes
very tightly to keep from being seasick. Then suddenly, and
quite without warning, he stopped whirling. Up and down and
up and down he teetered, and when he carefully opened one eye
the smallest possible bit, he could see that he was in the very
middle of the stream.
Carefully, he turned his red head with the shiny black crown.
There in the distance he could see the cattails and the water
weeds where he had hidden while the old duckmaster and his
I2


helper, Paulus, had picked up the other ducks, placed them back
in the big wicker basket, and then walked away.
“Chug-a-lunk,” called the frog, and his great voice seemed to
come from a long way off.
“I shall look in the other direction,” thought Waldo quickly,
“for I am sure that I shall find myself actually very close to the
shore.” _
So he turned his red head with its crooked bill and peered
through the darkness to the other shore.
It was a long way off too. _
And Waldo was suddenly more lonely than any little duck
should ever have to be. -
The cool wind pushed at his tail feathers, but it was so gentle
that he hardly noticed he was moving. Waldo began to drift down
the stream.
Ofl in the deep, still woods, a drowsy whippoorwill sang its sad
song.
“Whippoorwill . . . whippoorwill . . .” came an answer
from the other side of the creek.
“Peep . . . peep . . . peep,” said three frogs to each other,
and “Chug-achug,” came the reply very softly.
It seemed that in all the world Waldo was the only one who
was alone. “Oh, my,.” he said, “Oh, my,” and a small, yellow tear
rolled down his sandpapered cheek. _
I3


A wide-awake cricket rubbed his long brown legs together.
“Crick-a-dee,” he creaked. “Crick-a-dee,” answered his
friend from the branch of a bush filled with red berries. Waldo
wanted very much to have a friend that he could talk to and who
would talk to him.
On and on he floated, bobbing up and down whenever a ripple
tickled his wooden feathers. After a while, Waldo closed his eyes
again, for he was very tired.
_
_


,,
‘l
L
J
- _
A
“J
_


I,

_
Chapter Four
he wind thatiwhirled Waldo about and sent him bobbing
I along the whitecapped river waters had just blown in from
the sea. All the way from Africa it had come, first warm
with the dusty sunlight of the desert, then cool with the rain-
washed smell of Spain. Across thousands of miles it came, dipping
low to gather the salt taste of the ocean in its breath, then rising
into the clouds to spill the water on the ships at sea.
The wind was tired when it finally reached the harbor. It was
blowing in little gusts toward the giant sycamore tree it knew,
where it could rest in the coolness of its branches. Just for fun it
reached down and gave Waldo a playful push on his tail feathers.
“Gracious me!” cried Waldo. “Someone’s pushing me.” And
he bounced crazily about until his bill pointed toward the distant
river bank.
Once over his fright, however, Waldo began to enjoy himself,
for the sun was September-warm on his back, the fresh salt air
was cool and good, and the sky was filled with cotton clouds.
“Although I am still all alone and I would rather be with a
friend, I feel that I am quite happy,” thought Waldo. “And, be-
2 I _ _


sides, I am filled with bravery now.” Waldo puffed out his little
wooden breast and held his head very high to show exactly how
brave he felt.
Because he was holding his head so proudly, looking neither
to right nor to left, Waldo did not notice the seagull. But the gull,
high above the choppy blue water, saw Waldo and with a shrill
cry dove straight down at him.
“F isheeee . . . fisheeee,” screamed the seagull, and Waldo
turned in alarm as he felt the bird’s wings beat a tattoo on his back.
Then suddenly the gull had Waldo’s neck in itsilong slim bill,
and the poor little duck felt himself being lifted from the water.
“Help, help,” he squawked, and the gull dropped him as sud-
denly as it had picked him up. Waldo’s heart beat so hard that he
could barely catch his breath, and he twisted his wooden neck so
that he could see the gull, which now floated on the top of a wave.
And what, may I ask, do you think you are?” asked the gull
scornfully. “I came all the way down from that cloud to catch a
fish and it turns out to be a most peculiar piece of something.
Explain yourself.” And the gull settled himself more comfortably
on the wave.
“I am a duck,” said Waldo breathlessly. “I am a decoy duck,
and I am lost in the middle of this great ocean. I am all alone, but
now that you are here . . . .” he paused. Perhaps since he was
not a fish after all the gull would make friends with him. Perhaps
Waldo would not have to be lonely any more.
22


“Now that I am here,” said the gull rudely, “I am going to fly
right back up into the sky and look for some fish. And besides,
you’re not on an ocean, as anyone can plainly see. ]ust look
around.” With a whirring of its wings, the seagull left, and Waldo
watched it until it was just a tiny speck in the sky. '
“Oh, well,” thought the little duck, “he probably wouldn’t
have been a very good friend anyway.” With that, he began to
look around.
Far away he could see a line of great ships moving slowly along
the horizon. Tiny plumes of smoke rose from the ships’ funnels
and disappeared into the sky. Closer to him, Waldo could see a
very strange boat that churned the water at what seemed to be a
tremendous speed and left a broad white path on the water be-
hind it. Many people leaned over the side of the big boat, and
Waldo wondered if any of the people might fall overboard.
If this happened, somehow, though he couldn’t think exactly
how, Waldo would save that person, and he would have a lifelong
friend to care for him and to make him happy.
But no one fell overboard, and the ferryboat (for that is what it
was) disappeared in the distance, leaving only the long, slow-
rolling waves that spread out behind it.
The sun was hiding behind a low dark cloud and a chill wind
had sprung up when Waldo first noticed a little tugboat. It was a
sturdy red tugboat with one great fat smokestack, and when it
saw another boat it opened its mouth and went, “Honk . . .
beep . . . honk!” in a very loud voice.
23


Waldo noticed that the tugboat was not moving. A huge, heavy
chain hung down its side and disappeared into the Water. On the
end of the chain, although Waldo did not know it, was a big iron-
horned anchor. That was why the jolly red tugboat did not move.
By the time Waldo had floated close to the tug, the sky was
growing even darker and the chill wind had become stronger and
was singing quite loudly in Waldo’s ears. A little shiver ran down
his wooden back and he said to a wave that was slopping against
his chin, “Oh, gracious me. Do you suppose a storm is coming?
What will happen to me? I cannot swim. I can only float.” But
the wave only plopped harder against his chin and the whistle of
the wind was louder in his ears.
By this time, Waldo had floated quite close to the tugboat, and
he looked up at its fine wooden sides and its big black funnel and
wondered whether the boat was afraid of storms, too.
“Beep . . . honlz,” cried the tugboat, “beep . . . honlz . . .
beep,” and Waldo said, “Quack,” very softly, but no one heard
him at all.
Quite suddenly it began to rain. The first raindrops hit the
water gently and made Waldo laugh because they tickled his
feathers. Then the rain began to come down harder and harder,
and poor Waldo got wetter and wetter and more unhappy as each
drop bounced off his back.
2+


The waves grew higher. When he was at the bottom of a wave,
Waldo could see nothing but the swirling green water. Then he
was tossed to the top and he could see through the rain.
All the ships that had been sailing about in the distance had
disappeared. Only the brave tugboat remained.
“Perhaps the tugboat is lost,” thought Waldo, forgetting his
own fright. “Perhaps it cannot find its way home.”
The next time he was tossed to the top of a wave, he peered
through the slanting raindrops, and not very far away in the dis-
tance he could see tiny lights along the shore.
Suddenly Waldo felt very brave and strong again. For the tug
was his friend. “Beep . . . honlz . . . beep,” it had said to him.
And he had answered, “Quack.”
“I shall lead my friend the tugboat into shore,” Waldo decided.
“Follow me, follow me.” The wind swallowed up Waldo’s cry
and began to blow him toward the shore—up a wave, down a
wave, but alwaysntoward the shore.
Waldo looked over his shoulder. The sturdy red tugboat was
bouncing about in the wind, the waves breaking over its bow. _
“I will save you,” shouted Waldo, “and you will be my friend.”
And suddenly, hardly able to believe his rain-filled eyes, he saw
a man come to the side of the boat to pull and tug on the great
iron chain. Up came the anchor, and slowly, very slowly, the tug
began to follow Waldo into shore. I
=->5


-i-


L.‘


Chapter Five _
he rain slanted cold against Waldo’s feathers and the water
T slapped against his bill, but Waldo felt warm and happy as
he shook his head from side to side to whisk the raindrops
from his eyes. For behind him, as he could see when he twisted
his neck and looked over his shoulder, came the little red tugboat.
Slowly at first, then more quickly, it huffed and puffed, and the
billows of black smoke, like big blankets, hung low over the gray
water.
“I wish that I could sing like a nightingale,” quacked Waldo,
“for I am happy at last. I am proving that I am very brave. It
doesn’t matter that I am just a wooden duck. And it doesn’t
matter that my bill is crooked and my tail feathers are chipped
where little boys threw stones at me. For I am about to become a
hero-duck and I shall wear a ribbon. I will save the tugboat from
the storm by my clever navigation!”
A wave spun him closer toward the shore, and the red tugboat
followed right behind his tail feathers.
Ahead of Waldo were rows of big wooden posts that looked
like short telephone poles stuck in the water. The poles made two
. 28


lines running out from the shore. As Waldo floated between the
posts, he kept looking over his shoulder, for he could see the tug-
boat approaching very closely now.
“Watch out!” he cried, and the wind lifted his voice up into
the rain. “Watch out, little boat. Do not crash against the wooden
poles.”
But the tugboat came chugging on, and for a moment Waldo
closed his eyes very tightly, expecting to hear a great roar and a
crash of breaking wood, and perhaps the cries of the tugboat men
when they discovered that their beautiful red boat had been
smashed.
But there was no great roar of breaking wood, only the tug-
boat’s hoarse, deep-voiced “Beep . . . honlz . . . beep” as the
boat eased between the fat wooden posts.
“I have led my friend to safety,” thought Waldo proudly, as he
heard the rattle of the great anchor chain and the hiss of the steam
rushing into the air.
What Waldo did not know was that the tugboat, fearing that
the storm would grow worse, had come into the dock where it
always came in bad weather. The tugboat captain had not even
seen the little wooden duck bobbing along the black, wind-swept
water. But, since Waldo could not guess that he had not really led
the tugboat to shore, he felt very proud and very happy.
By this time the engines on the boat had stopped. Men tossed
great ropes onto the dock, and other men seized them and flung
29


them over two of the wooden posts. Waldo floated quietly at the
tugboat’s side, waiting for it to say “Thank you” to him. But the
tugboat said nothing at -all.
Since he had been battling the rain and the waves for a very
long time and was tired and wet and sleepy, Waldo tucked his
head under his wing again and went quickly to sleep. But just be-
fore he began to dream little duck dreams, he said to himself very
happily, “When I wake up in the morning the sun will be shining
and my friend, the tugboat, will be able to see me. Then he will
speak to me and thank me for saving his life.”
Sure enough, when Waldo woke, the sun was shining, al-
though, because he was almost hidden by the tugboat on one side
and by the great wooden posts on the other, Waldo had to crane
his neck and look straight up into the blue sky to make sure.
But there it was, bright and warm, in the rain-washed sky.
Waldo felt happy and adventurous, so he said, “Quack!” very
clearly to the tugboat.
“Beep . . . hank . . .beep,” cried the tugboat gaily and let
out a tremendous puff of smoke and a very loud hiccough of
steam.
Suddenly, there was a great rush of water as the tugboat’s pro-
pellers started to turn, and the little red boat backed away from
the dock. Poor Waldo, quietly regarding the morning sunlight,
was thrown against the wooden posts and then sucked under the
water until he could not breathe at all and got a great mouthful of
30



_
Chapter Six
or a long time Waldo followed the tugboat, basking in the
F warm sun and snifl-ing little duck sniffs at the cool salt
winds. With his eyes half closed he thought about how
much had happened to him since he was plopped into the small
stream by the duckmaster’s helper.
Because Waldo was thinking so hard, he did not notice that his
friend, the tugboat, had puffed off into the distance and had dis-
appeared. _Waldo had not noticed how far from shore he had
drifted. In fact, if the truth were told, Waldo had been daydream-
ing in the great river harbor.
Because Waldo’s eyes had been closed when he was thinking,
he had not noticed the tall city buildings slipping by and he had
not noticed when the harbor changed to the ocean. When Waldo
stopped his dreaming there was no land in sight!
Everywhere was sunlight, sparkling on the whitecapped waves
and dancing along the deep green water. The air was filled with
sunlight, and the seagulls, for which Waldo now had a definite
dislike, soared like tiny kites high above the water and seemed to
catch the sunbeams in their claws.
34-


“Why, where is my friend, the little red tugboat?” gasped
Waldo frantically. The waves were silent and there was no answer.
There was only the water and the sun and the sailing seagulls.
“I am tired of being afraid,” he declared. “This time I will not
,,
cry because I am alone. Instead, I will try very hard to be happy.
And Waldo was trying so hard that he almost bumped into the
white fishing boat. Waldo knew it was a fishing boat because
there were long fishing lines hanging from its sides and dangling
in the water. Every once in a while two men on the boat deck
would reach over the side with big nets fastened to long poles.
The men would scoop up big fish and dump them on the deck.
Then very suddenly Waldo himself was caught in one of the
nets!
The more he struggled the tighter the net held him.
As the man pulled the net up over the side of the boat, Waldo
quacked in a high frightened voice. “But, sir, I am not a fish!
I am a hero-duck!”
But the man of course could not understand Waldo’s quacks.
Only other birds and animals could understand what Waldo said,
although he, of course, never suspected that. One of the men on
the boat shouted, “Say, look at the duck we caught.”
“Well, imagine that!” said another man, standing on the other
side of the boat. “A funny little wooden duck with a crooked
bill.”
35


Waldo bristled his feathers in anger as the man laughed at him.
A funny little duck indeed. He was a very special duck, a decoy
duck who had Adventures!
-“Throw him on the deck. I’ll take him home to my little boy,”
said a third man. He was a big sunburned man with bright blue
eyes and a black cap on his head. On the front of the cap in clear
gold letters was the word “Captain.”
So Waldo was tossed on the wet board deck that was covered
with fish scales. He was quite frightened and forgot about being
happy because the big Captain was going to take him home to his
little boy. The boy would undoubtedly throw rocks at Waldo
just as the little boys at the bridge had done. Yes, Waldo was ex-
tremely unhappy.
The boat moved slowly through the water for what seemed
like a very long time, and Waldo lay on the deck with the fish
scales. The men were busy hauling in the fish. After a while, the
Captain stepped out of the cabin where he watched the big wheel
that steered the fishing boat and said, “Good fishing today, but it
looks as if a storm might be coming our way.”
The men who were dragging the nets full of fish up and over
the boat’s white-painted side stopped long enough to look at a
row of black clouds blotting out the sun.
When the Captain turned to clump . . . clump . . . clump
back to his wheelhouse, his big hobnailed boot caught Waldo
under the chin and sent him skittering across the deck.
36


“Oh, me. I am filled with misery,” sobbed the poor little duck.
“I have just gone through one storm in the harbor where I saved
the little tugboat, and now another one is coming, and the Cap-
tain just kicked me with his big boot.” _
The Captain hadn’t meant to kick Waldo. He hadn’t seen the
little duck. He was in a hurry to get back to his wheelhouse and
turn his fishing boat in toward shore. But Waldo thought that he
had been kicked on purpose, and he was probably the most truly
miserable little duck in all the world.
Very softly Waldo began to cry. He could see his tears plop
and splash on the boat deck and before he knew it the entire deck
was covered with little bouncing drops of water.
“That is very odd,” thought Waldo. “I know that I am a very
sad duck and that I am crying because I can’t help it, but even I,
a crying hero-duck, couldn’t fill the whole boat with my tears.”
Carefully, he turned his swollen face up to the sky and to his
surprise he felt raindrops running down his cheeks.
“The Captain was right,” he said to himself. “Another storm
is_ here.” ,
Waldo saw the two men pulling in their fishing nets. Then the
boat shuddered as a high wave crashed into its side.
“Yes,” he sighed, “another storm. But this time I am on a boat
and not in the water where the waves try to cover me.”
just as Waldo said this, a tremendous green wave, filled with
White foam, came racing across the deck.
' 37





The shaggy dog shook Waldo from side to side then galloped
up out of the water and laid him at the little boy’s feet.
All this time Waldo had not uttered even one frightened quack,
because he was so very frightened that he could not breathe at all.
The two things he hated most in all the world, more than seagulls
or fishing boats or storms or the ocean, were boys and dogs. And
here he was, face to face with both.
The sunburned little boy, whose name was Christopher and
who lived in a house just over the edge of the sand dune, patted
the dog's wet head.
“Good doggy,” he said, as he leaned down to pick up Waldo.
“Why, it isn’t a stick at all! It's a duck!” He smiled a happy smile,
and Waldo could see the place where his two front teeth were
missing.
The boy didn’t look as fierce as Waldo had expected, so the
little duck began to breathe again. Perhaps, just because he had
fallen into the hands of a boy and a shaggy dog, he did not have
to die of fright after all. He decided he would try hard not to.
Waldo did not know it, but he was a sad sight. The salt water
had dulled his bright new paint, sand stuck to his fat little sides,
and his crooked bill gave him a very curious expression. But the
little boy did not seem to notice. He held Waldo tight against his
faded blue shirt and began to brush the sand from his sides.
“You’re my little wooden duck,” he said to no one in particu-
lar. “I’ll take you home and we can play all the day long.”
4-3


The boy turned his back to the ocean, whistled to the shaggy
dog, and started up the beach toward the sand dune. Waldo could
feel the boy’s heart thumping a happy tattoo, and even the shaggy
dog seemed to smile.
“Perhaps I am about to have another Adventure,” thought the
little duck. “And perhaps—just perhaps—this time I shall like it.”
Up and over the sand dune they went, the shaggy dog first,
then the little boy, holding Waldo very gently in his arms.
------ -->
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Chapter Eight
P the white shell path went the little boy, whose name
was Christopher, and the shaggy dog named Mobey.
And in the little boy's brown arms was the wooden
duck named Waldo.
“What a beautiful house,” quacked Waldo happily to himself
as they climbed the four front steps. And it was a nice house. It
was wooden, like Waldo, painted white with green shutters and
a warm brown roof with a chimney poking through the shingles.
“This is where I live,” said Kit (which is short for Christopher)
to Waldo. “My daddy is the best fisherman in all the world and
sometimes I help him.”
A fisherman?
Waldo shuddered. A dog. A boy. And now a fisherman . . .
all in one day. But, since the dog and the boy had turned out to
be so very nice, perhaps Kit's daddy, the fisherman, would be
nice, too—not like the one on the boat who had kicked Waldo
in the face with his heavy boot.
“I will wait and see, meanwhile being very brave,” thought
Waldo wisely.

4-5



7t


M
_
4}

_
wice during the next few weeks, Kit’s father took Waldo
I and Kit with him when he went fishing, and Waldo was
not at all afraid. After all, he was Kit’s friend and Kit held
him very tightly in his arms when the fishing boat rolled from
wave to wave.
Sometimes Kit and Mobey, the dog, and Waldo went for long
walks along the beach while the warm autumn sun shone. Mobey
raced up and down the bank, barking at sandpipers, digging for
shells, and chasing little waves back into the ocean. Kit threw
pebbles into the blue sparkling water, and Waldo lay in the sand,
watching it all very carefully with his bright yellow eyes.
One day Kit left the shaggy dog at home, asleep by the fire,
and took Waldo to the other side of the spit of land on which he
lived. The water was calm here and the sun was very warm on the
little boy and his little duck.
“Waldo,” said Kit, putting his friend down on the sand with
his bill pointing straight out to sea, “I think I’ll just go wading.
Not very far. just a little bit, because winter is coming and this
may be the last warm day of the year.”
_
50


“..1,-

_
Chapter Ten
he day the Wild Ducks came was, for Waldo, a wonder-
ful and exciting and ver sad da .
Y Y
Early one morning, when the mist was just beginning to
rise along the beach and the waves boomed loud along the shore,
Kit and Mobey, the dog, and Waldo went down to the water’s
edge to collect shells. Kit placed Waldo in the tall grass by a sand
dune to protect him from the cold wind that blew in from the sea.
When the bucket was filled with seashells, Kit whistled for his
dog and started up the path to his house. And for the first time
since he had found Waldo, the little boy forgot all about his
wooden duck and left him sitting on the sand.
But Waldo was not discouraged. “Kit will come back for me,”
he said to himself quite calmly. “So I shall just sit here and enjoy
the sunrise.”
The tide was coming in, and the waves grew bigger and bigger
as the sun came up over the -edge of the world. The wind was a
winter wind and Waldo began to shiver, even when the sun rose
quite high and shone on his back.
“I wish Kit would come back,” said Waldo. And just as he said
-
53


that, a wave tickled his toes. The tide rose quite high.along this
beach, and even a sand dune and sea grass could not protect the
little wooden duck.
Before long, Waldo was again swirling around in the ocean.
And then they came, a great flight of Wild Ducks, beating the
air with their strong wings and calling to each other above the
roar of the waves. By this time Waldo had drifted into a little cove
made by a long sand bar that reached out from the shore.
Down to that very cove flew the ducks, following their leader
and landing with a splash in the water.
“Hello, hello,” quacked Waldo. “Here I am!” And he swirled
about so that they would be sure to see him.
Quietly, the Wild Ducks rested on the Water, saying very little
to each other and saying nothing at all to Waldo. But Waldo did
not care. They had come down from the gray sky to keep him
company, and if they did not feel like talking—well, he was never
one to force himself on others.
For a long time the Wild Ducks bobbed about the waves,
twenty-five Wild Ducks and Waldo. Then one of them drifted
quite close to Waldo and, after looking at him for a long time
without blinking even one eye, said:
“Are you a real duck?”
“Oh, no,” answered Waldo. “I am a wooden duck. And I have
a friend whose name is Kit. Would you care to be my friend, too,
Q,
perhaps? . .
54-


_
— 7 _ _ 7 _ _ M _"__ _..-“


_


All day Kit was very sad._But in the evening, when the fire was
lighted and his mother, and his father, and Mobey sat before the
fireplace, Kit walked over to the corner where Waldo had been
sitting all winter long.
Carefully he picked up the little wooden duck. He blew afine
cloud of dust from Waldo’s back. He polished Waldo’s crooked
bill with his sleeve. Then he tucked the duck under his arm.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” he said, “and take my friend Waldo.”
Waldo breathed a very soft sigh.
“Now, I shall never be sad again,” the little wooden duck said
to himself.
. J <
s.
And he never wa
_
_





j PN . Burt 76 E9
Burton, Earl, 1916-
The exciting adventures of
Walcio
MAR 21 2008


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