We were dripping wet with creek water and perspiration, but we had the ducks, every one of them, and proudly started home.

I'll wager Leon was sorry he didn't wear aprons so he could carry them.

He did keep the last one in his hands, and held its little fluffy body against his cheeks every few minutes.
"Couldn't anything be prettier than a young duck." "Except a little guinea," I said.
"That's so!" said Leon.

"They are most as pretty as quail.

I guess all young things that have down are about as cunning as they can be.