"Do you suppose there is any chance of them staying with me chickens?
If they do, they'll be about the queerest I have; but I tell you, sir, I am finding some plum good ones.

There's a new kind over at the mouth of the creek that uses its wings like feet and walks on all fours.

It travels like a thrashing machine.

There's another, tall as me waist, with a bill a foot long, a neck near two, not the thickness of me wrist and an elegant color.

He's some blue and gray, touched up with black, white, and brown.
The voice of him is such that if he'd be going up and standing beside a tree and crying at it a few times he could be sawing it square off.