“I’ve always loved birds,” the American lady said.

“The birds will lie right down in the grass with this,” Nick said.

The shadow of a tree fell abruptly across the dew and ghostly birds began to sing among the blue leaves.

The deer hung stiff and heavy and empty, and small birds blew in the wind and the wind turned their feathers.

Gosh, I was so excited, I was afraid to look at them, but I fixed the glasses on the place where they would come out back of the trees and then out they came with the old black jacket going third and they all sailing over the jump like birds.

So on some nights I would try to remember all the animals in the world by name and then the birds and then fishes and then countries and cities and then kinds of food and the names of all the streets I could remember in Chicago, and when I could not remember anything at all any more I would just listen.