bill darted out of the prickly briar bush and gobbled up the marble.

“Oh!” cried Bully in fright, jumping back, “I wonder if that was a
snake?”

“No, I’m not a snake,” was the answer. “I’m a bird,” and then out from
behind the bush came a great, big Pelican bird.

“Did—did you take my marble?” asked Bully timidly.

“I did!” cried the Pelican bird, snapping his bill together just like a
big pair of scissors. “I ate the first one after it fell to the ground
near me, and I ate the second one that you shot over here. They’re
good—marbles are! I like ’em. Give me some more!”

The bird snapped his beak again, and Bully jumped back. As he did so the
marbles in his pocket rattled, and the Pelican heard them.

“Ha! You have more!” he cried: “Hand ’em over. I’ll eat ’em all up. I
just love marbles!”

“No, you can’t have mine!” exclaimed Bully, backing away. “I want to
play some more games with Billie and Johnnie with these,” and he looked
to see where his two friends were. They were quite some distance off,
shooting marbles as hard as they could.

Then, all of a sudden, that Pelican bird made a swoop for poor Bully,
and before the frog boy could get out of the way the bird had gobbled
him up in his big bill. There Bully was, not exactly swallowed by the
bird, you understand, but held a prisoner in the big pouch, or skin