Once there was a man who was driving in his
car at dusk on a spring evening through part of the
forest of savernake. his name was mr. peters.
the primroses were just beginning but the trees
were still bare, and it was cold; the birds had
stopped singing an hour ago. as mr. peters
entered a straight, empty stretch of road he seemed
to hear a faint crying, and a struggling and
thrashing, as if somebody was in trouble far away
in the trees. he left his car and climbed the mossy
bank beside the road. beyond the bank was an
open slope of beech trees leading down to thorn
bushes through which he saw the gleam of water.
he stood a moment waiting to try and discover
where the noise was coming from, and presently
heard a rustling and some strange cries in a voice
which was almost human-and yet there was
something too hoarse about it at one time and too
clear and sweet at another. mr. peters ran down
the hill and as he neared the bushes he saw
something white among them which was trying to
extricate itself; coming closer he found that it was
a swan that had become entangled in the thorns
growing on the bank of the canal.

why does mr. peters stop to ? what does this say about his characteristic?