Owl was making a sound book. On one page he drew a duck. On the next he drew a frog.
‘Quack,’ he practiced.
‘Ribbit.’
Mouse came to hear the new book.
Owl pointed to the duck. ‘Ribbit!’
Mouse looked at the drawing. ‘That duck has been visiting the pond too long.’
Owl tried again. ‘Qu—hoot.’
They both laughed.
Owl knew each sound on its own. Remembering which one went with each picture was harder.
Mouse made a suggestion. ‘Tell me something about each animal first.’
Owl looked at the duck. ‘She paddles with wide feet. She shakes water off her feathers. She says … quack!’
He looked at the frog. ‘He sits on a leaf by the pond. He has long back legs. He says ribbit.’
Mouse clapped her tiny paws.
Then Owl turned the final page. There was a drawing of himself.
‘He has soft feathers,’ Mouse said. ‘He reads lovely books. He says …’
‘Quack!’ cried Owl.
Mouse stared for a moment. Then she saw his grin.
Owl wrote two small words under his picture: Sometimes silly.
When Mouse went home, he put the book beside his bed. He gave one quiet, ordinary hoot to the evening.
Tomorrow, perhaps, the frog would say hello like a duck.
