Angel Island - Page 127/136

"Julia's got the bug, too." Billy's eyes lighted with a gleam of

tenderness. "Among the things she found in the trunk was a box of white

silk stockings and some moccasins. She's taken to wearing them lately.

It always puts a crimp in me to get a glimpse of them - as if she'd

suddenly become a normal, civilized woman."

"Now that I think of it," Frank again came out of his book. "Chiquita

asked me a little while ago for a pair of shoes. She's wearing them all

the time now to protect her feet - from the sun she says."

"It is the most curious thing," Billy said, "that they have never wanted

to walk. Not that I want them to now," he added hastily. "That's their

greatest charm in my eyes - their helplessness. It has a curious appeal.

But it is singular that they never even tried it, if only out of

curiosity."

"They have great contempt for walking," Honey observed. "And it has

never occurred to them, apparently, that they could enjoy themselves so

much more if they could only get about freely. Not that I want them to -

any more than you. That utter helplessness is, as you say, appealing."

"Oh, well," Ralph said contemptuously, "what can you expect of them? I

tell you it's lack of gray matter. They don't cerebrate. They don't

co-ordinate. They don't correlate. They have no initiative, no creative

faculty, no mental curiosity or reflexes or reactions. They're nothing

but an unrelated bunch of instincts, intuitions, and impulses - human

nonsense machines! Why if the positions were reversed and we'd lost our

wings, we'd have been trying to walk the first day. We'd have been

walking better than they by the end of a month."

"I like it just as it is," Pete said contentedly. "They can't fly and

they don't want to walk. We always know where to find them."

"Thank God we don't have to consider that matter," Billy concluded.

Apparently the walking impulse isn't in them. They might some time, by

hook or crook, wheedle us into letting them fly a little. But one thing

is certain, they'll never take a step on those useless feet."

"Delicate, adorable, useless little feet of theirs," Pete said softly as

if he were reciting from an ode.

"There's something moving along the trail, boys," Frank said quietly. "I

keep getting glimpses of it through the bushes - white - blue - red and

yellow."