Intro: Page Eleven
Table of Contents
Translator with Jeffrey
The Locusts on Migration
Migration: Page Two
Migration: Page Three
Migration: Page Four
The Poet's Introduction
Intro: Page Two
Intro: Page Three
Intro: Page Four
Intro: Page Five
Intro: Page Six
Intro: Page Seven
Intro: Page Eight
Intro: Page Nine
Intro: Page Ten
Intro: Page Eleven
Intro: Page Twelve
Intro: Page Thirteen
The Bison's Tale
Bison: Page Two
Bison: Page Three
Bison: Page Four
The Serpent's Tale
Serpent: Page Two
Serpent: Page Three
Serpent: Page Four
Serpent: Page Five
The Salmon's Tale
Salmon: Page Two
Salmon: Page Three
A Whale of a Tale
Whale: Page Two
Whale: Page Three
Whale: Page Four
Whale: Page Five
Whale: Page Six
Whale: Page Seven
Whale: Page Eight
Whale: Page Nine
The Hummingbird's Tale
Hummingbird: Page Two
Hummingbird: Page Three
Hummingbird: Page Four
Hummingbird: Page Five
Hummingbird: Page Six
The Tern's Tale
Tern: Page Two
Tern: Page Three
Tern: Page Four
Contact the Author
The Cricketary Tales of Jeffrey Jawser

There was a funny duck there in that wood,
A source of mirth to all since childhood!
A duckling from the shell will open eyes
And madly dote upon first beast it spies,
Be it lion, bear, wolf, or bull, or monkey,
Wide-awake ape or dopey donkey!
Even to Homo sapien monster
The new-hatched chick will instantly transfer
Its love. Yes, whether mouse, hound or heifer
It follows her forever as its mother!
This all is true and I can well present
Witness and facts. But what astonishment!
This is a joke that made us laugh no end:
What mother did our chick misapprehend?
Of all the birds and beasts on earth, guess who? -
None other than our own caribou!
She who led circuits of the frozen North
(Head the herd, manage, govern, guide) - henceforth
Would show the way (one smiled at her luck)
To a strange quacking son, a daffy duck.

A DAFFY Duck! (drawing by Philip Rymer)

He was harlequin to our jolly crew
In colors all fantastic. Patch of blue
Here on his wing, his head a brilliant green;
Legs all bright red, derriere aquamarine.
And yet for all this he could fly. "My birth,"
Quoth he, "was odd, but the axis of the earth
I can determine, its magnetic field.
The sun, stars - all Nature's secrets yield
To my art. Near sixty miles an hour
I fly in migration. Such is my power."
Yes, for his skill did we this duck acclaim,
And for his fun! And Oscar was his name.

Oscar was his name!