p. 10 | A FLORIDA CRANE by Anna R. Henderson

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 3, 1895

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 21, No. 39.

A FLORIDA CRANE.

By Anna R. Henderson

WHEN I was a little girl, my home was in Florida, and one of my friends at school was Annie Hunter. Annie had a pet crane, which had been caught on a Florida prairie, where there are always flocks of them. His color was a light silvery blue. His body was about as large as that of a turkey hen, and his legs and neck were so long that when he stretched himself up, he was almost as tall as a man.

Annie called her crane Stuart. He was fond of her, would come when she called him, and when he saw her coming from school would meet her and walk by her side.

I longed to be friendly with him, but when I walked softly up to him, he would raise his head and look at me with his long bill so close to my face that I was afraid he would pick my eyes out.

He had a fancy for picking at bright buttons. He spent much time in the yard and garden, but would walk into the house like one of the family, and liked to come to the table to eat bread and potatoes.

Now, you will not think that such a pet could be of any use. But he was useful. He filled the place of a watchdog. He slept on the back porch at night, and no one dared enter the yard without first calling some of the family.

No chickens were stolen from that yard. No stray dog came prowling around there. He was fierce and watchful, and fought with his large, strong wings. I am sure that he could have beaten down a large boy.—Anna R. Henderson.