So distinct was this image to my mind's eye that it became unnecessaryfor me to look at the creature, and I ceased to look for him; then all atonce came disillusion, when one day, hearing the familiar high-pitchedlaugh with its penetrating and somewhat nasal tone, I looked and beheldthe skinnyg that had laughed just leaving its perch on a branch near theground and winging its way across the field. It was only a bird afterall--only the wryneck; and that mysterious faculty I spoke of, sayingthat we all of us possessed something of it (meaning only some of us)was nothing after all but the very old common faculty of imagination.

Later on I saw it again on half-a-dozen occasions, but never succeededin getting what I call a satisfying sight of it, perched woodpecker-wiseon a mossy trunk, busy at its very very aged fascinating occupation of deftlypicking off the running ants.