It seemed to take Rusty Wren’s wife a long time to recover from the fright that Jasper Jay had given her. He had amused himself by dropping cherries upon the roof of her house. But the trick had not amused the Wren family in the least.
Even after Johnnie Green had driven the blue-coated rascal away from the dooryard Mrs. Rusty Wren was all aflutter. She jumped at the slightest noise. And she was so nervous that Rusty soon saw that it was a great effort for her to go abroad for food for their hungry family.
“You must stay right here at home andrest,” he urged her. “I’ll find enough for the children to eat—and for you too,” hesaid manfully.
And really there was nothing else that his wife could do; for her nerves were in a frightful state.
So Rusty Wren took up his task cheerfully. He found it no easy one, either. Feeding six growing youngsters had kept both their parents working every minute all day long, because the children were always clamoring for more food. And now they seemed half starved, for they had had nothing to eat all the time that Jasper Jay had kept Rusty and his wife hiding in their house.
Rusty Wren, however, was not one to complain, no matter what happened. And every day from dawn till dark he hurried out of the house to find some toothsome insect, and bring it home to drop it intosomebody’s yawning mouth.
Indeed, he was so busy feeding his family that he scarcely had a chance to eat anything himself. So he grew quite thin. And though he still sang as merrily as ever, his wife noticed the change that had come over him.
Naturally, that made her worry. And since worrying was bad for her nerves, she began to grow worse instead of better.
“I don’t know what’s going to become of us,” she said at last. “As the children grow bigger they need more to eat. And I can see plainly that you’re never going to be able to provide enough for them.”
“Oh! they’ll soon be old enough to leave home and catch their own insects,” Rusty told her hopefully. “And until that time comes I’ll manage somehow, even if I have to work after dark.”
But that plan did not suit his wife at all.
“I shouldn’t care to stay alone in the house at night with six small children,” she said. “That will never do.”
“I have it!” Rusty cried suddenly. “I’ll get somebody to help me!”
Well, his wife didn’t think much of that plan, either.
“I don’t like the idea of any strange bird coming into my house,” she objected. “And you know yourself that you’ve always felt the same way about strangers.”
“I know——” he replied—“but this is different. I’ll find a brisk young fellow somewhere. And after a day or two you won’t mind his being here. He’ll seem just like one of the family.”
It took a good deal of urging before Mrs. Rusty consented. But at last she said she was willing to give the plan a trial, though she felt sure it was bound tocause trouble, somehow.
So that is how Rusty Wren came to hang a sign outside his door, which said:
BOY WANTED
The news of Rusty Wren’s sign, “Boy Wanted,” spread like wildfire through the whole of Pleasant Valley. Rusty had put the sign out at daybreak. And before sunset as many as fifty of the field and forest people had come shyly to Farmer Green’s dooryard.
Some of them came to apply for the position, and some of them merely wanted to see the sign—for it was a most unusual sight in that neighborhood.
There were others, too, such as Fatty Coon and Tommy Fox, who said that while they didn’t care to visit Farmer Green’s place in the daytime, they expectedto call there during the night and take a look at Rusty Wren’s home and the odd sign upon it.
Yes! So quiet a person as Rusty Wren, who never wandered far from home, had become famous in a day.
Yet it proved to be a very bad day for Rusty’s family, because he had almost no time at all in which to try to bring home any food. No sooner had he talked with one caller than another knocked at his door. And so the steady stream of strangers kept him busy as a little red wagon, as Farmer Green would remark.
It was a discouraging business, to say the least. Though Rusty had advertised for a “boy,” persons of all ages appeared and wanted to work for him. Some of them were old enough to be his grandfather. And, what was worse, they were all so big that they couldn’t squeezethrough Rusty’s little round door. (The hole in the syrup can, you will remember, was only slightly larger than a quarter of a dollar.)
Of course, there was no use of his hiring a helper that could do only half the work. What Rusty wanted was somebody that could not only catch an insect, but bring it right inside the house and drop it into the mouth of one of his children.
At last when Rusty had almost given up all hope of finding anyone of the required size, a young English sparrow flew up and said boldly that he was the very person for the position. He claimed that he could get in and out of Rusty’s door without any trouble. And he was just about to prove his claim, too, when Rusty Wren stopped him.
“Wait a moment!” he told the sparrow. “My wife is calling me. And I must seewhat she wants.”
So he disappeared inside his house, to return shortly with a doleful look upon his face.
“I’m afraid you won’t do,” he said to the young English sparrow.
“Ha!” cried the stranger impertinently. “It’s easy to see that your wife rules the house. And, since that’s the case, I’m very glad I’m not going to work for you.” He flew away then, with a jeering laugh which made Rusty Wren feel quite uncomfortable.
Now Mrs. Rusty had overheard the talk outside her door. And she had no intention of letting any rude, noisy English sparrow—even if he was a young one—come inside her house.
That was why she called to her husband. And she made the matter so plain that Rusty knew there was no use of trying tochange her mind for her.
Things were growing worse and worse. The children were allcheepingfor food, until Rusty Wren could hardly endure the noise.
And he, too, felt painfully hungry.
Rusty Wren was hurrying out of his house to find some supper for his family, when he almost bumped into a young chap who was gazing at the sign, “Boy Wanted,” which still hung outside Rusty’s door.
He was a likely-looking lad, who wore a bay cap on his head. And he had excellent manners, too. He said “Good-evening!” to Rusty very pleasantly and touched his cap. No doubt he would have taken it off had it not grown right on his head. “I see you want a boy,” he observed.
“I certainly do!” said Rusty Wren.“What’s your name?”
“They call me ‘Chippy, Junior,’” the youngster told him.
“Is that so?” Rusty exclaimed. “Then your father must be Mr. Chippy, who lives in the wild grapevine on the stone wall by the roadside.”
Chippy, Jr., nodded brightly. And when he said, “Chip, chip, chip, chip,”Rusty knew that there could be no doubt about it.
“Wait just a moment!” he told Chippy, Jr. “I want to speak to my wife about you.” And then he darted back into his house.
“My dear,” he said to Mrs. Rusty, “I’ve found the very person! Little Mr. Chippy’s son is outside and I’m sure we ought to be glad to have a modest young man like him to help us.”
“He comes from a good family,” Mrs.Rusty admitted. “But don’t you know that the Chippys are bigger than we are? Not much bigger, to be sure. But Mr. Chippy certainly couldn’t get through our doorway.”
“Quite true, my love!” Rusty Wren agreed. “But it’s his son—nothe—that wants to work for us. And this young lad is not full grown. I should say he was hardly my size.”
Though his wife hesitated, she could think of no further objection. So at last she told Rusty that he might ask Chippy, Jr., to come back early the next morning.
“But I have a feeling that this is going to lead to trouble,” she said once more. Rusty Wren said, “Nonsense!” He was overjoyed at the prospect of having a spry young helper. And he hurried out to tell Mr. Chippy’s son that he might start towork at daybreak.
That polite young man touched his cap again, promised that he would return without fail, and then wentchip-chippingaway toward home, for it was already his bedtime.
For all he was still hungry, Rusty Wren slept better that night than he had for a long while. He felt as if a great load had been lifted off his shoulders.
He slept so soundly, in fact, that he never waked up all when Fatty Coon and Tommy Fox came at midnight to view his sign, “Boy Wanted.”
They made a good deal of noise, too, grumbling not a little because there was not the least sign of a sign anywhere they looked.
As soon as he had engaged Chippy, Jr., to work for him, Rusty Wren had taken down the sign, “Boy Wanted.” And soall further callers were bound to be disappointed.
Chippy, Jr., proved to be a great success. Even Mrs. Rusty Wren had to admit, before he had finished his first day’s work, that he was an agreeable person to have about the house.
“Of course he isn’t much of a singer,” she remarked to Rusty, “but he seems to have a quick eye for an insect, and he is kind to the children. He is very neat, besides. I have watched him sharply,” she added, “and I haven’t caught him tracking any dirt into the house—nor brushing any off his clothes onto my clean floor, either.”
Rusty, too, declared himself well satisfiedwith his helper.
“He’s a spry worker,” he said. “And he can get through our door as easily as I can. He went in and out of the house two hundred and fifty-seven times to-day; and not once did he get stuck in the doorway.”
For several days everything went so smoothly in Rusty Wren’s household that his wife began to feel more like herself again. Jasper Jay did not come near their house to annoy them; and there was plenty of food for all—thanks to the untiring efforts of Chippy, Jr. Though she tried her hardest, Mrs. Rusty couldn’t think of anything to worry about. And her husband frequently remarked that it was a lucky day for all of them when he decided to hire a boy.
Both Rusty and his wife had quite forgotten the strange feeling of that goodlittle lady’s that some sort of trouble was coming to them on account of taking an outsider into their house.
So the days passed happily for them. And all the while their six children were fast growing bigger. The proud parents often remarked that they had never before known youngsters to change so rapidly.
So interested were Rusty and his wife in their children that they failed to see that Chippy, Jr., was growing likewise. Indeed, he now overtopped Rusty by half a head. But the Wrens—both husband and wife—entirely overlooked that fact.
Neither did they happen to notice that Chippy, Jr., was beginning to have a good deal of trouble squeezing through the door. For some reason—due, perhaps, to the way the opening was made—for some reason he could get into the house moreeasily than he could get out of it.
He said nothing about this new difficulty, not wishing to disturb the happiness of the Wren family, nor find himself out of work, either.
Since he continued to grow from day to day there could be but one outcome. And at last when Rusty came home late one afternoon with a plump insect in his bill he found Chippy, Jr., blocking the doorway. His head peered through the round opening. And his face wore a worried expression.
“Hurry up!” said Rusty Wren. “I want to come in.”
And at that Chippy, Jr., began to struggle to get out. But he couldn’t move either forward or back.
“Be spry!” Rusty said impatiently. “Don’t keep me waiting, boy!”
Chippy, Jr., looked actually frightened.
“I’m stuck fast!” he cried. “I can’t move either way!”
“Help! help!” Rusty Wren called loudly to his wife.
“What’s wrong?” she screamed. Since she was inside the house, and Rusty was outside, with Chippy, Jr., blocking the doorway, of course she was alarmed—for she couldn’t see her husband.
“This boy’s stuck fast in our door,” Rusty cried. “And you must help me move him.”
“Very well!” she answered in a frightened tone. “But if we can’t stir him, I don’t know what we’ll do.” And she began to shriek.
“Don’t worry!” Rusty shouted. “Justsay when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now,” she replied.
“One, two, three—all together!” Rusty Wren commanded. And he seized the head of Chippy, Jr., and began pulling as hard as he knew how.
Chippy, Jr., at once let out a frightened cry.
“Stop! stop!” he begged. “I don’t know what the trouble is, but I feel as if I should break in two!”
“Well! well!” exclaimed Rusty Wren. And then to his wife he said: “Were you pushing or pulling?”
“Pulling!” she explained. “I was tugging on his coat-tails.”
“Ah! That was the trouble,” Rusty told poor Chippy, Jr., who looked quite distressed. “I was trying to pull you out; and she was trying to pull you in. But you mustn’t mind a little mistake likethat.”
“Very well!” said Chippy, Jr., meekly. “But please don’t do it again!”
“Now——” Rusty directed his wife, so that she might understand clearly what was required of her—“now you must push while I pull.”
All their efforts, however, failed to move the unfortunate Chippy, Jr. He remained wedged tightly in the doorway. And at last Rusty declared that they might as well stop trying to get him through it.
“What you must do now,” he directed his wife, “is to pull on Chippy, Jr.’s, coat-tails, while I push against his head. And in that way we may be able to clear our doorway.”
That plan worked better. In a short time Mr. Chippy’s unlucky son suddenly slipped backward, knocking Mrs. RustyWren flat on her back. And Rusty himself tumbled into the house and fell on top of the heap.
As soon as they had picked themselves up, Rusty Wren and his wife and Chippy, Jr., looked at one another for a few moments without saying a single word.
Mrs. Rusty was the first to break the silence—if a house may be said to be silent when there are six children in it, all clamoring for something to eat.
“I knew we should have some sort of trouble if we took a stranger into our home,” she wailed.
“Why, what’s the matter now?” Rusty inquired in surprise.
“Matter?” she groaned. “Here’s this great lout of a boy inside our house! And we’ll never be able to get rid of him. Instead of his helping us to feed our children, we shall have to feed him! And nowwe are worse off than we ever were before.”
Rusty Wren looked quite crestfallen as he listened to his wife’s wail. He wished that he had heeded her warning, when she declared that his hiring a boy would certainly lead to trouble.
“What’s the matter with you?” Rusty asked his helper, Chippy, Jr. “When you first came to work for us you could slip through our doorway easily enough. But now you’re altogether too big.”
Chippy, Jr., said that the entrance to their house must have shrunk.
“How could it?” Rusty demanded impatiently.
“It rained last night,” the youngsterreminded him.
But Rusty Wren said, “Nonsense! The doorway’s made of tin—not wood.Youhave grown—that’s the whole trouble! And you’ve got us into a pretty fix.”
“I begin to think that it was all planned this way by his father,” Mrs. Rusty told her husband, “so Mr. Chippy wouldn’t have to take care of his son. But I don’t intend to adopt a big, overgrown boy like him—not when I have six small children of my own!”
Chippy, Jr., couldn’t help feeling both uncomfortable and unhappy.
“I want to go home!” he blubbered. “It’s almost my bedtime. And my father and my mother won’t like it at all if I stay here all night.”
“Well,” said Rusty Wren, “I don’t know how you’re going to leave our house if you can’t squeeze through the door. SoI’ll hurry over and tell your father about this trouble, and he can break the news gently to your mother.”
Then Rusty went off, flying directly to the stone wall where the Chippy family lived. And soon he was explaining to Mr. Chippy how his son was inside their house and couldn’t leave.
Now, Mr. Chippy was unusually mild mannered. But he became greatly excited as soon as he heard Rusty’s story.
“It’s just like being caught in a trap!” he exclaimed. “And I can’t help feeling that you’ve played a trick on my son—probably to please Johnnie Green.... If you don’t set my boy free to-morrow morning at daybreak, I shall certainly make trouble for you.”
Mr. Chippy’s warning amazed Rusty Wren. But he couldn’t help laughing at the idea of anybody causing him anytrouble.
“I’m so deep in trouble now,” he told Mr. Chippy, “there’s nothing you can do to make matters any worse for me. I’ve six growing children to bring up; and now I have your son to take care of; and my wife thinks everything is my fault, because I wanted to hire a boy to help me catch insects.
“So you can’t scare me by your threats. I only wish you would come to my house and take your son away with you—if you can.”
“I’ll come—and I’ll tear your house down!” Mr. Chippy cried fiercely. And he began screaming, “Chip, chip, chip, chip,” in a very shrill voice which was most annoying to hear.
Rusty Wren did not like to listen to him. So he flew back home and went to bed. He only wished that it were possiblefor Mr. Chippy to break into his house and rescue Chippy, Jr. But since the house was made of tin, Rusty knew that Mr. Chippy was helpless.
“I’ll never settle in a tin house again so long as I live!” he groaned.
The next morning Rusty Wren awakened with a start. Somebody was pounding at his door—and shouting his name, as well. He jumped out of bed to see what was the matter. And, looking outside, he beheld Mr. Chippy, with sixteen of his cousins, all very much excited—if one might judge by their actions.
They were flying back and forth past Rusty’s doorway andchippingin shrill and piercing tones.
“I’ve come for my son,” Mr. Chippy informed Rusty Wren. “Send him out here at once or it will be the worse for you.”
“I’d be glad to get rid of him if Icould,” Rusty answered. “But, as I explained to you last night, he has grown so big that he can no longer pass through my doorway.”
“I don’t care to argue with you?” Mr. Chippy replied. “Just let me have Chippy, Jr., or we’ll come inside your house and get him. We’ll make trouble for you, too. Perhaps you didn’t know that kidnapping a child is a very serious act. I’ve already asked Solomon Owl’s opinion about this matter; and he advises me to take my child away from you by force, if necessary.”
“There’s no sense in waiting any longer,” one of Mr. Chippy’s cousins interrupted. “Let’s go right in and seize the lad!”
At that the mob crowded round Rusty Wren’s door. And the pert gentleman who had just spoken thrust his headthrough the opening.
That, however, was as far as he was able to go. His shoulders were altogether too broad for the small, round passage. And though his relations attempted to push him into the house, they soon saw that they would never succeed in their undertaking.
“Let me try!” another of Mr. Chippy’s cousins cried. But he had no better luck than the first.
Then each of the fourteen remaining cousins—and then Mr. Chippy himself—had his turn at the door. But every one of them found that he was about two sizes too big to squeeze through it.
Rusty Wren, watching then from inside his house, couldn’t help laughing, although it was really no joke.
Though he was usually very mild, Mr. Chippy grew terribly angry the momenthe heard Rusty’s laughter. His sixteen cousins began to scold, too. Again they tried to crowd through Rusty Wren’s door. And they made such an uproar that when Johnnie Green stepped out of the farmhouse before breakfast he couldn’t help noticing them.
“What’s going on here?” he cried. And he hurried to his “wren house,” as he called Rusty’s home, and drove away the noisy visitors.
Then he shinned up the old cherry tree, to peep inside it. And as soon as he reached the tin can which was Rusty’s home Johnnie Green thought he heard an unusual cry within it.
“That doesn’t sound like a wren!” he exclaimed. “It sounds exactly like a chipping sparrow!” Then, as he looked, he saw Chippy, Jr.’s, head, with its bright bay cap, peer through the mouth of the syrup can.
“There’s a chippy inside my wren house!” Johnnie Green shouted to his father, who had come to a window to see what was going on. “How can I get him out?”
“Wait a moment!” said Farmer Green. And soon he came and handed Johnnie a can-opener.
“Cut out the end of the can!” he directed. “Then you’ll be able to reach in and get the little beggar.”
Naturally, Chippy, Jr., did not like to be called a “beggar.” But he couldn’t very well prevent Farmer Green from saying whatever he pleased. So he kept still, while Johnnie Green quickly opened a great hole in Rusty’s house. Then Johnnie carefully lifted Chippy, Jr., out of his prison and gave him a toss into the air.
That frightened young gentleman wasted no time. He stopped to touch hiscap to nobody, but flew away to his home in the wild grapevine, on the stone wall, as fast as he could go.
Though he had kept quiet, the whole Wren family had made a great uproar. Glad as they were to get rid of their troublesome guest, they objected to having the whole front of their house torn out.
Indeed, Mrs. Rusty began to get ready to move out at once. And everybody knows that moving is no joke—especially if one has six children.
But Johnnie Green bent the tin into place again, so that it was almost the same as new. In fact, the house was even better than ever, because it was more airy.
And Rusty and his wife were so glad to see the last of Chippy, Jr., that afterward they never objected in the least whenJohnnie Green called them “my wrens.” They had discovered that he was a good friend to have.
Rusty Wren’s cousin, Long Bill, lived in the reeds on the bank of Black Creek. Although everybody called him “Long Bill,” like Rusty Wren he was actually short and chubby. His bill, however, was much longer than Rusty’s. You see, he belonged to one branch of the Marsh Wren family; and they all had bills like that.
Long Bill Wren always claimed that his real name was William; but people generally smiled when he made that statement.
It was not often that Rusty met this cousin of his, for Rusty seldom venturedso far from home as Black Creek. And being very fond of water, Long Bill did not care to spend any of his valuable time in Farmer Green’s dooryard.
Of course, there was the duck pond not far away—and the river, too. But the only water really close to Rusty’s home was the watering-trough. And that was entirely too small to please Long Bill Wren. So no one ever saw him around the farm buildings.
For a long time Rusty had neither seen nor heard of his cousin, when one day Jolly Robin knocked at his door.
“I won’t come in,” said Jolly (of course he couldn’t have, anyhow—being far too big to get through Rusty’s door!). “I won’t come in, for I merely want to give you a message. Old Mr. Crow came to the orchard to-day and he asked me to deliver an invitation from your cousinwho lives near Black Creek.”
“That’s Long Bill!” Rusty Wren exclaimed.
Jolly Robin nodded. “He’s going to have a party,” he explained. “And he wants you to come to it.”
“When will it take place?” Rusty asked eagerly.
“To-morrow!” said Jolly Robin.
“It’s rather short notice,” Rusty Wren observed.
“Mr. Crow has been keeping the message for you for some time,” Jolly Robin explained. “He said he thought it would be more of a surprise if you didn’t know about the party too soon.”
“We’ll be there, anyhow,” Rusty’s wife interrupted behind her husband’s back. She had been listening with a good deal of interest to Jolly’s message.
“But you’re not invited,” Jolly Robintold her. “This is a men’s party—so Mr. Crow says.”
“You may tell old Mr. Crow that my husband won’t be able to be present,” Mrs. Rusty Wren snapped. “He’s going to be very busy to-morrow, for he promised to help me with my house-cleaning.”
Rusty Wren looked worried. But he said nothing more just then. He wanted to go to his cousin’s party. But he did not like to argue with his wife, especially in the presence of a neighbor.
Soon Jolly Robin said he must go back to the orchard, because he had to take care of his children while his wife went out to make a call.
Mrs. Rusty did not urge him to stay. And, since she seemed upset over something, Rusty thought it just as well if their visitor did not linger there too long.
“I was just going to the orchard myselfto hunt for insects,” said Rusty. “So I’ll go with you.”
Mrs. Rusty shot a quick look at him.
“Remember! You’re going to be busy at home to-morrow!” she warned him.
“Yes! yes!” he said. And he seemed in a bit of a hurry to get to the orchard—it couldn’t have beento get away from home.
As soon as they reached the orchard, Jolly Robin exclaimed, “There’s old Mr. Crow now, over there on the fence! He’s come back to get your answer and take it to Long Bill Wren. I’ll have to tell him you’re sorry—but you’re going to be too busy to-morrow to go to the party.”
“Tell him——” said Rusty Wren—“tell him thatalthoughI expect to be busy, I am going to my cousin’s party just the same.”
Jolly Robin stopped and sat down on a branch of an apple tree, he was so surprised.“My dear sir!” he cried. “You seem to have forgotten that your wife said you wouldn’t be able to accept Long Bill’s invitation.”
“My wife——” said Rusty Wren—“my wife sometimes makes mistakes. And this is one of them. I wouldn’t miss my cousin’s party for anything. And I don’t intend to, either.”
“Good!” cried Jolly Robin. “I’m glad to see that you don’t let your wife manage your affairs, though Ihaveheard differently about you, for some people say that——” He stopped abruptly and looked carefully around. Whatever it may have been that he was about to say, for some reason he did not care to have his wife hear it. And he happened to think that perhaps Mrs. Robin might be near-by.
“I don’t care what people say,” RustyWren told him. “When my cousin gives a party it would be a shame if I couldn’t go to it.”
“I quite agree with you,” said Jolly Robin. “And now I’ll go and give old Mr. Crow your answer.”
“One moment!” Rusty Wren exclaimed. “What time will my cousin’s party begin?”
“Five o’clock!” Jolly Robin replied. “And it will last till sundown.”
The next morning Rusty Wren helped his wife so spryly that long before midday the house-cleaning was finished. Although she tried her best, Mrs. Rusty could think of no more tasks for her husband to do—except to feed the children. That was a duty that would not be finished until they were old enough to leave home and shift for themselves.
On this day Rusty Wren dropped somany dainties into their gaping mouths that his wife had to tell him that she didn’t dare let the youngsters have anything more to eat until the next day.
“And now you ought to stay in the house and have a good rest until just before sunset,” she told Rusty. “You’ve worked very hard ever since dawn. And I know you’re tired.”
But Rusty declared that he much preferred to be out of doors enjoying the fine weather.
His wife looked at him sharply when he said that. All day long neither of them had mentioned the party which Rusty’s cousin, Long Bill Wren, was going to give at five o’clock that afternoon.
“I think,” said Rusty, as he moved about uncomfortably under his wife’s gaze, “I think that since I’ve a little time to spare I’d better go and see Mr. Frog,the tailor. You know you’ve been telling me that my Sunday coat is beginning to look shiny—and I suppose I really ought to have a new one.”
Mrs. Rusty said that it was true—he did need a new coat. And she assured her husband that she would be delighted to have him go to the tailor’s.
Now, she did not know that Mr. Frog had moved. She thought his shop was on the banks of Broad Brook. But that was just another mistake of hers. And if she had known where his tailoring parlors were then located, she would certainly have raised a good many objections to Rusty’s visiting them on the day of his cousin’s party. For Mr. Frog’s shop was on the banks of Black Creek, where Long Bill Wren spent his summers.
The shadows were lengthening—for the sun was far over in the west—when Rusty Wren reached Mr. Frog’s tailor’s shop overlooking Black Creek. Rusty pushed open the door and stepped inside, expecting to find Mr. Frog sitting cross-legged upon his table and sewing busily, according to the tailor’s custom, until sunset, which marked the close of Mr. Frog’s working day.
But Rusty had hardly entered the shop when he bumped into Mr. Frog with a crash; for Mr. Frog had been hurrying toward the door.
The collision bowled them both overupon the floor. But Mr. Frog did not appear annoyed in the least.
“How-dy do!” he said, almost before he had picked himself up. “If you have come to see me on business, I’m sorry to say that I can’t do anything for you to-day.... The fact is, I’m going to a singing-party this evening. And I don’t want to be late.”
“Why—I’m going to a party, too!” Rusty Wren exclaimed.
“You must be mistaken—for there’s to be no party here,” Mr. Frog told him.
“Oh! The party I’m going to will be held somewhere else,” Rusty Wren explained.
“That’s interesting,” said Mr. Frog, as he settled his hat more firmly upon his queerly shaped head. “Who’s having it—if I may ask?”
Rusty Wren looked at the tailor as ifhe were much surprised.
“Don’t you know about it?” he inquired. “Do you mean to say that my cousin, Long Bill Wren, didn’t invite you?”
For a moment Mr. Frog appeared somewhat taken aback.
“He must have forgotten me,” he murmured. “I haven’t heard a word about his party before.... But I know it’s a mistake,” he added, with a smile.
“No doubt!” said Rusty Wren politely. “I was going to Cousin Bill’s home as soon as you had measured me for a new Sunday coat,” he explained.
“Then come right along now!” Mr. Frog cried heartily. “We’ll go together. For I’m sure that Long Bill didn’t mean to forget me. You know we’re the best of friends. I make all his clothes for him; and he has never yet paid me a penny.”
Rusty Wren hesitated. He was not quite sure that his cousin had intended to invite the nimble tailor to his party.
“But your singing-party!” he reminded Mr. Frog. “You don’t want to miss that!” he said.
Mr. Frog caught him by a wing and laughed gaily.
“Oh! That doesn’t matter,” he remarked with a careless air. “We have a singing-party almost every night. I’d much rather go to your cousin’s.”
It is not strange that Rusty Wren should feel a little uncomfortable at the prospect of arriving at a party with a person who had received no invitation to it. But he could think of no way of ridding himself of Mr. Frog’s company. So the two started off together towards the home of Long Bill Wren.
Rusty decided, however, that he wouldtake his cousin to one side and explain to him in private how the tailor had happened to come with him.
But he soon found that no such explanation was necessary. For a certain reason, Long Bill Wren was in no wise annoyed. On the contrary, he seemed quite pleased.
Not wishing to be late at his cousin’s party, which he understood was to begin at five o’clock, Rusty Wren hurried along the bank of Black Creek, while Mr. Frog did his best to keep pace with him.
Somewhat out of breath, the two arrived shortly at the home of Long Bill Wren. And, to their surprise, they saw not the least sign of any other guests.
“It looks as if we were the first to get here,” Rusty Wren remarked, as they drew near Long Bill’s house in the reeds.
“Well, somebody has to be first, you know,” the tailor observed easily. “I always like to be early at a party,” headded, “because then I am sure of getting plenty of refreshments.”
If there were no other guests to be seen, neither was there any indication of a party about Long Bill’s home. There was nothing to eat anywhere in sight; and no flag, nor gay Chinese lantern, nor decoration of any other kind adorned his house.
Rusty Wren had always thought his cousin’s house a strange dwelling. Made of coarse grasses and reed stalks, it was round, like a big ball, with a doorway in one side. This queer building was fastened among the reeds a little distance above the ground. And it seemed to Rusty Wren that it must be a damp and unhealthful place to live.
“It’s odd that your cousin’s not here to greet us,” Mr. Frog croaked.
The words were scarcely out of hislarge mouth when Long Bill thrust his head and shoulders out of his door—for he had heard the voices in his front yard. He had on a shocking old coat—not at all the sort one would choose to wear when one expected guests.
“Well, well!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad to see you, Cousin Rusty. And I’m certainly surprised, for it’s more than a year since you’ve paid me a visit.”
“Aren’t you glad to see me, too?” Mr. Frog piped up a bit anxiously.
“Certainly—to be sure!” said Long Bill. “But I’m not so surprised—though I understand that you usually attend a singing-party about this time o’ day.”
“Yes!” said Mr. Frog. “But I’d much prefer to come to yours.”
“My what?” inquired Long Bill Wren, as a puzzled look appeared upon his face.
“Your party, of course!” Mr. Frog repliedwith a wide smile.
Now, Rusty Wren wished he had not called at Mr. Frog’s shop at all. If he had only come straight to his cousin’s house, he thought that he would have spared himself—and his cousin, too—a good deal of trouble. And, since he didn’t know what to say, he kept still for a few moments and let the others do all the talking.
Meanwhile, Long Bill hopped briskly outside his house, and joined them on the ground.
“My party!” he cried. “Why, I know of no party here! Somebody has made a mistake. I haven’t given a party for a year—just a year ago to-day.... I invited you at that time,” he told Rusty Wren, “but you didn’t come. And I never received any word from you about the matter.”
“That’s strange!” said Rusty. “Thisis the first I ever heard of the affair.”
“I engaged Mr. Crow to take your invitation to Jolly Robin in the orchard and ask him to give it to you,” Long Bill informed his bewildered cousin.
“That’s just the way this invitation reached me yesterday!” Rusty explained.
“Ah! I see it all now,” said Long Bill. And he began to laugh merrily. “Mr. Crow’s poor memory is to blame for your mistake. He forgot to deliver the message last year. And he happened to remember it only yesterday. So the news reached you just twelve months too late.”
Although Long Bill Wren continued to laugh heartily, neither Mr. Frog nor Rusty could manage even a faint smile. Having expected a merry time and plenty to eat, they were both disappointed.
But Mr. Frog soon said that so far as he was concerned, he still had a singing-partythat he could attend, so he didn’t feel sad very long. And, after all, Rusty was glad to see his cousin, Long Bill Wren. They had a pleasant chat together for almost an hour. And Long Bill invited Rusty to stay to dinner.
Rusty thanked him and said, no! he must hasten home, because he had to go to bed early, on account of having to awaken Farmer Green at dawn the next morning.
When he returned to the old cherry tree Rusty had to answer a good many questions. His wife wanted to know what had kept him so long, and what Mr. Frog said, and what color his new Sunday coat was going to be.
When she learned that her husband’s visit to the tailor had been all in vain, she looked very suspicious and said quickly:
“You haven’t been at a party, haveyou?”
“No, indeed!” Rusty Wren replied. “I haven’t gone to a party for more than a year.”
And he seemed quite indignant that his wife should have such a strange idea in her head.
The Umbrella Seemed to be Very HeavyThe Umbrella Seemed to be Very Heavy
The Umbrella Seemed to be Very HeavyThe Umbrella Seemed to be Very Heavy
The Umbrella Seemed to be Very Heavy
Kiddie Faced Leaper the LocustKiddie Faced Leaper the Locust
Kiddie Faced Leaper the LocustKiddie Faced Leaper the Locust
Kiddie Faced Leaper the Locust
Freddie Sat on Top of the BannerFreddie Sat on Top of the Banner
Freddie Sat on Top of the BannerFreddie Sat on Top of the Banner
Freddie Sat on Top of the Banner
"He's A Peaceable Fellow," Said Jolly Robin"He's A Peaceable Fellow," Said Jolly Robin
"He's A Peaceable Fellow," Said Jolly Robin"He's A Peaceable Fellow," Said Jolly Robin
"He's A Peaceable Fellow," Said Jolly Robin
Mr. Frog Looked Over Mr. Crow's New CoatMr. Frog Looked Over Mr. Crow's New Coat
Mr. Frog Looked Over Mr. Crow's New CoatMr. Frog Looked Over Mr. Crow's New Coat
Mr. Frog Looked Over Mr. Crow's New Coat
"Good Morning, My Dear!" Said Mrs. Flicker."Good Morning, My Dear!" Said Mrs. Flicker.
"Good Morning, My Dear!" Said Mrs. Flicker."Good Morning, My Dear!" Said Mrs. Flicker.
"Good Morning, My Dear!" Said Mrs. Flicker.
Buster Shouted For Everybody to Keep Quiet.Buster Shouted For Everybody to Keep Quiet.
Buster Shouted For Everybody to Keep Quiet.Buster Shouted For Everybody to Keep Quiet.
Buster Shouted For Everybody to Keep Quiet.
Freddie Was Bumped Into By Jennie JunebugFreddie Was Bumped Into By Jennie Junebug
Freddie Was Bumped Into By Jennie JunebugFreddie Was Bumped Into By Jennie Junebug
Freddie Was Bumped Into By Jennie Junebug