Lou made a little comforting sound at the back of his throat. Now it was all trussed up, terrified, there on the palm of Lou’s hand. It must have blundered into a powerful big spider’s web. Then you could see clear: it was a tiny hummingbird, and it was all wound around with sticky spider-silk, so that it couldn’t fly, nor hardly walk. Somehow he knew how to rest his finger behind the bird’s feet so it stepped onto his hand. Lou crouched down beside it and put out his hand. The little fluttering thing slid down to the floor and rested there. Then at the wall it turned, and came fluttering down a side beam. Along the top beam the little sound ran, very soft, you could scarce hear it. The living room of Grand’s house reaches up high, with beams across it, and one side open to the porch. It was a little fluttering sound in the roof, moving.
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