80 The Catskill Fatrves.

NIP’S STORY.

“ Asout the good year 1620 the West Wind stood on her
cloud throne, her fair brow wreathed with ivy tendrils, her clear
gaze brilliant with untold promises, her stately form erect and
instinct with a splendid vitality. She was gazing out over the
sea.

“The waves dashed in clouds of spray against granite head-
lands, and a dark line of forest extended inland as far as eye
could see, unbroken by town or any trace of human life. What
was the West Wind looking at? A tiny vessel tossed like a
cockle-shell on the billows, and steering timidly across the wide
waste of waters. This was the cradle of the queerest baby
ever seen.

“ Of course, the West Wind knew all about it—this found-
ling was to be cast on her care and protection. He had no
space to grow in the crowded nursery where he was born on
the opposite shore of the ocean. The baby’s godfather was a
great king, but he said, ‘Let him go, for he is not like the
other children, and will make trouble when he is a big boy.’

“Do you remember the story about the large, ugly duck-
ling among the little ducks and geese of the barnyard that
would one day become the beautiful swan? Have you ever
heard, Job, that the cuckoo’s egg, if allowed to remain in the

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nest of the hedge-sparrow, crowds out the other nestlings ?”