Publisher's Synopsis
Once upon a time there came a soldier marching along the road, kicking up a little cloud of dust at each step-as strapping and merry and bright-eyed a fellow as you would wish to see in a summer day. Tramp! tramp! tramp! he marched, whistling as he jogged along, though he carried a heavy musket over his shoulder and though the sun shone hot and strong and there was never a tree in sight to give him a bit of shelter.At last he came in sight of the King's Town and to a great field of stocks and stones, and there sat a little old man as withered and brown as a dead leaf, and clad all in scarlet from head to foot."Ho! soldier," said he, "are you a good shot?""Aye," said the soldier, "that is my trade.""Would you like to earn a dollar by shooting off your musket for me?""Aye," said the soldier, "that is my trade also.""Very well, then," said the little man in red, "here is a silver button to drop into your gun instead of a bullet. Wait you here, and about sunset there will come a great black bird flying. In one claw it carries a feather cap and in the other a round stone. Shoot me the silver button at that bird, and if your aim is good it will drop the feather cap and the pebble. Bring them to me to the great town-gate and I will pay you a dollar for your trouble.""Very well," said the soldier, "shooting my gun is a job that fits me like an old coat." So, down he sat and the old man went his way.Well, there he sat and sat and sat and sat until the sun touched the rim of the ground, and then, just as the old man said, there came flying a great black bird as silent as night. The soldier did not tarry to look or to think. As the bird flew by up came the gun to his shoulder, squint went his eye along the barrel-Puff! bang-!
