If I couldn't be an eagle, or a hawk, or a wild goose, or one of those big-horned owls that we hear every night, or a humming-bird, then I'd rather be a crow than most.

A crow has got enemies, of course, but then he's got brains, so that he knows how to make a fool of most of his enemies.

And he certainly does manage to get a lot of fun out of life, taking it all in all, except when the owl comes gliding around his roosting places in the black nights, or an extra bitter midwinter frost catches him after a rainy thaw." He paused and drew hard on his pipe, with that far-away look in his eyes which the Babe had learned to regard as the forerunner to a story.
There were some interesting questions to ask, of course; but though bursting with curiosity as to why anyone should find it better to be a wild goose, or even a hummingbird, than a crow, the Babe sternly repressed himself.

He would ask those questions by and by, that he promised himself.

But he had learned that to speak inopportunely was sometimes to make Uncle Andy change his mind and shut up like an oyster.