"Good morning, Mr. Woodpecker!" the birds greeted him.
"Don't call me 'Mister!'" he said. "My name is Reddy--Reddy Woodpecker."
Then he turned to little, shrinking Mr. Chippy and his wife. "I can see
that you're worried about your eggs," he remarked. "I suppose your nest
is hidden not far away."
Mr. and Mrs. Chippy looked most uncomfortable. They didn't quite dare
speak to such a grand person as Reddy.
"Where's your nest?" Reddy asked them bluntly.
"_Chip, chip, chip, chip!_" said Mr. Chippy. "_Chip, chip, chip, chip!_"
said his wife.
"What sort of answer is that to a civil question?" Reddy Woodpecker
blustered. "Here I've just made your acquaintance. And I've asked you to
call me by my first name. And you won't even tell me where you live!"
Mr. and Mrs. Chippy didn't know what to say. It was lucky for them that
Mr. Catbird came to their rescue.
"Don't bully these good people!" Mr. Catbird cried, as he settled
himself right in front of Reddy Woodpecker. "If you had heard what old
Mr. Crow said about you, just before you arrived, you'd understand why
Mr. and Mrs. Chippy don't care to tell you where their nest is."
Reddy glared at Mr. Catbird.
"Old Mr. Crow? Who's he?" Reddy demanded. "I haven't made his
acquaintance. I'm sure he can't know anything about me."
"Ah! Perhaps not!" Mr. Catbird answered. "But he knows what sort of
family yours is. He has met others like you."
Reddy sniffed. "I never saw a Crow that wasn't a rascally blackguard,"
he snapped. "There never was a Crow that wasn't a nest robber."
"_Chip, chip, chip, chip!_" Mr. Chippy interrupted.
"What's he saying?" Reddy Woodpecker asked Mr. Catbird.
"He says he agrees with you."
"Then he has more sense than I thought," Reddy observed. "And if Mr.
Crow spoke ill of me I hope Mr. Chippy has enough sense not to believe
him."
"_Chip, chip, chip, chip!_"
"What's he saying now?" Reddy Woodpecker demanded of Mr. Catbird.
"He says he agrees with Mr. Crow," Mr. Catbird explained very
pleasantly.
"Then he hasn't any sense at all!" cried Reddy.
The whole company couldn't help giggling when he said that. And Reddy
Woodpecker promptly lost his temper.
"I've planned to spend the summer here," he said. "It's too late now to
move on. But I can understand at last why none of my family has visited
this neighborhood for many years. It's a pleasant enough place. But
the neighbors aren't my sort at all."
"_Chip, chip, chip, chip!_" piped Mr. Chippy.
"He says he agrees with you," Mr. Catbird told Reddy Woodpecker. And
then he added, "Meaow!" And he gave himself a jerk and spread his tail,
all of which told Reddy Woodpecker plainly that Mr. Catbird had a very
poor opinion of him.
*III*
*MORNING TATTOOS*
In the spring Reddy Woodpecker liked to drum.
He never felt that a pleasant day was rightly begun unless he played a
tattoo early in the morning. So upon his arrival in Pleasant Valley he
began promptly to look about for a good drumming place.
It wasn't long before he discovered a strip of tin nailed upon the roof
of Farmer Green's barn.
"Ah!" cried Reddy the moment he spied this treasure. "Just what I
need!" And settling himself down upon it he hammered out a long,
rolling tattoo with his strong bill.
It mattered not to him that Farmer Green's family was sound asleep. He
didn't care whether he disturbed anybody. He liked to hear his own
drumming; and he intended to drum.
"This is the finest drumming place I've ever had!" Reddy Woodpecker
cried aloud. "I don't care if the neighbors are disagreeable to me.
I'm glad I came here to spend the summer."
So he made good use of that bit of tin with which Farmer Green had
mended the roof of the barn. Each morning (if it wasn't raining) he
flew to the barn to beat his tattoo. And he began to speak of "My tin,"
and "My roof"--and even of "My barn!"
Then, one morning, Reddy was a bit lazy. He was late about his morning
drumming. And before he had left the orchard where he had decided to
live he heard a sound that gave him a great start. From the direction of
the barn came a rolling beat which filled him with dismay.
"Who's that drumming?" he exclaimed. "It can't be myself, because I'm
here in the orchard." Then all at once he became terribly angry. "It's
somebody else!" he muttered. "Somebody has stolen my drumming place--my
piece of tin--my roof--my barn!"
He flung himself off the old, dead apple tree where he had been looking
for grubs for his breakfast and flew straight towards the rolling sound
which still beat upon the air.
It was just as he had feared. A stranger sat upon the strip of tin
pounding away with his bill as if it were his duty to waken everybody in
Pleasant Valley. He wasn't as handsomely dressed as Reddy Woodpecker.
He wore a brown and gray and black suit, with a patch of white low down
upon his back and a splash of red on the back of his head. From each
side of his bill reached a black mustache. This mustache gave the
strange drummer a brigandish air which made Reddy Woodpecker think twice
before he spoke to him. But Reddy was so angry that he just had to say
something.
"Hop away from there!" he cried.
The stranger stopped drumming and looked up with a smile. He said only
one word. It was "Why?"
"Because," said Reddy Woodpecker, "that bit of tin belongs to me."
"Does it?" asked the other. "I thought it belonged to Farmer Green."
Reddy Woodpecker noticed that the stranger was bigger than he was. And
that fact, as well as the fierce mustache, made him hesitate again. He
wanted to call the stranger a name. But he didn't quite dare.
Then the stranger spoke again. He spoke very agreeably, too.
"What use do you make of this tin?" he inquired.
"I drum on it," Reddy replied.
"Oh!" said the gentleman with the mustache. "Why didn't you say so
before?" And he bowed and scraped in a most polite fashion. "I resign!"
he cried. In another moment he was gone.
Reddy Woodpecker hastened to beat his morning tattoo upon the tin. And
while he was drumming he noticed a Barn Swallow watching him.
"Who was that chap that just left?" he asked.
"Don't you know him?" Mr. Barn Swallow exclaimed. "That's Mr. Flicker."
"Huh!" Reddy Woodpecker grunted. "I don't think much of his drumming."
"You ought to," remarked Mr. Barn Swallow.
"Why?" Reddy inquired.
"Because he's a distant cousin of yours," Mr. Barn Swallow explained.
"He belongs to the Woodpecker family."
*IV*
*THE HIGH-HOLE*
Reddy Woodpecker lost no time in making friends with his cousin Mr.
Flicker. Reddy knew well enough that most of the birds in the
neighborhood wished he hadn't come there to live. So he thought it wise
to be pleasant and polite to Mr. Flicker. There was no knowing when he
might need one friend among so many enemies. He even let Mr. Flicker
drum upon the strip of tin upon the roof of the barn. But secretly
Reddy thought him a queer chap.
"There's one thing that's very odd about you," Reddy said to Mr. Flicker
one day. "If you're a Woodpecker, why don't you peck wood? I've
noticed that you spend most of your time on the ground--when you're not
drumming upon my tin."
Mr. Flicker laughed.
"Oh!" he said lightly, "we Flickers have found an easier way to get a
living than by drilling wood with our bills to find grubs. We eat
ants," he explained. "And that's why you see me on the ground so much,
because that's where the ants live." At the moment Mr. Flicker was on
the ground, while Reddy clung to the trunk of a tree near him. And just
to prove the truth of his statement Mr. Flicker made a quick jab into
the turf with his bill. He pulled his bill out at once, giving Reddy
Woodpecker a glimpse of an ant before he swallowed it.
Reddy Woodpecker stared at him in amazement. "Where's your home?" he
asked Mr. Flicker. "Is your home on the ground?"
"Bless you, no!" cried Mr. Flicker. "I'm no ground bird. My wife and I
have a fine hole in an old apple tree in the orchard."
Reddy Woodpecker had to approve of that, anyhow. So he nodded his
red-capped head.
"You're sensible in one way, at least," he remarked. "That's the way to
live, if only you build high enough, out of harm's way."
Mr. Flicker grinned at him.
"It's plain that you don't know we Flickers are sometimes called
High-holes," he said, "because of the way we nest."
"Ah! So you have two names, eh?" Reddy Woodpecker exclaimed, as he
speared a grub with his tongue and drew it out from under a bit of bark.
"I should think you'd find that confusing. I should think you'd forget
who you were, sometimes."
"Oh! It's easy when you get used to it," Mr. Flicker replied. He
paused to capture another ant. And then he added, "I have more than
just two names. I have one hundred and twenty-four in all."
"My goodness!" cried Reddy. He was so astonished that he missed a stab
at a fine grub that was right under his nose. "My goodness! Has your
wife as many names as that?"
"Yes!" said Mr. Flicker.
"And your children?"
Mr. Flicker nodded.
"Sakes alive!" Reddy exclaimed. "How do you ever feed them all?"
Mr. Flicker gave a long, rolling, curious laugh.
"We feed the children under only one name," he explained, "although I
must confess it sometimes seems to me that each of them eats enough for
one hundred and twenty-four youngsters."
"I know how that is," said Reddy Woodpecker. "My home is in a tree in
the orchard, too. And I'm raising a family of four myself."
*V*
*TOO MUCH COUSIN*
Reddy Woodpecker wished that he hadn't been so pleasant to his cousin
Mr. Flicker. It was all well enough for Mr. Flicker to drum upon
Reddy's bit of tin on the roof of the barn so long as he drummed late in
the morning. But when he drummed early, as he sometimes did, it usually
happened that Reddy had to wait before he could begin his own morning
tattoo.
And Reddy Woodpecker didn't like that at all. In fact it seemed to him
that Mr. Flicker had quite forgotten his manners. For if he happened to
reach the barn first he never stopped drumming until he had all but
drummed his head off. At least, that was the way it seemed to Reddy
Woodpecker.
At such times Reddy did everything he could think of--short of actually
fighting--to make Mr. Flicker stop. He made a sound like a tree toad,
_ktr-rr, kttr-r-r_. He tapped on the shingles with his bill. He flew
right over Mr. Flicker's head. But it seemed as if Mr. Flicker simply
couldn't take a hint.
"I don't like to order him to hop away," thought Reddy. "He's my
cousin. Besides, he's bigger than I am; and he does look terribly
fierce with that black mustache."'
Though he may have _looked_ fierce, Mr. Flicker always _acted_ in the
most pleasant manner possible. And when he finished his drumming he
never failed to ask Reddy Woodpecker how he liked it.
It was a hard question for Reddy to answer, because he didn't care in
the least for Mr. Flicker's tattoos. He thought his own were far
better. Sometimes Reddy pretended not to hear his cousin's question,
but started drumming at once. Sometimes he said, "I believe that's an
improvement over yesterday's tattoo." And at last he exclaimed one
morning, "You ought to join the Woodchuck brothers!"
Mr. Flicker was a great person to ask, "Why?" He asked it now.
"Because," Reddy told him, "the Woodchuck brothers are famous whistlers.
And they need somebody to drum for them while they whistle. I've often
heard them chirping away by themselves over in the pasture. And as you
must know, there's no music that sounds better than drumming, with a
little shrill whistling to go with it--unless it's a little whistling,
with a plenty of loud drumming."
Mr. Flicker's favorite word "Why" sprang to his bill again. "Why," he
inquired, "do you not drum for the Woodchuck brothers yourself?"
Reddy Woodpecker shook his head.
"I want to practice more, before I join a troupe," he said.
"There!" Mr. Flicker exclaimed. "I like to hear people talk that way.
That shows that you don't think you're the best drummer in Pleasant
Valley."
"I don't, eh?" said Reddy.
"No, you don't!" said Mr. Flicker. And it was plain that _he_ didn't
think so, either. But before Reddy could make up his mind to quarrel
with his cousin Mr. Flicker asked him another question--not "Why?" but
"Where?" "Where--" said Mr. Flicker earnestly--"where can one find
these Woodchuck brothers?"
"One can find them in the pasture, unless they're in the clover patch.
Just now they are probably in the pasture, for it's a bit early in the
season for clover."
"The pasture!" repeated Mr. Flicker. "Ah! There must be ant hills in
the pasture."
"Hundreds of them!" said Reddy.
"Then I'll go to see the Woodchuck brothers at once," Mr. Flicker
decided. So he flew off.
*VI*
*MR. FLICKER'S PLANS*
In a little while Mr. Flicker returned from his trip to the pasture to
see the Woodchuck brothers. Hurrying into the orchard he called to
Reddy Woodpecker, "They're thinking it over."
"They'll want you to drum for them," Reddy assured him. "There's no
doubt that the Woodchuck brothers will accept your offer.... Why don't
you move up to the pasture at once? You'd find it handy, living in the
Woodchucks' door-yard."
"I can't do that," said Mr. Flicker. "You forget my family."
"Move them too!" Reddy urged him.
But Mr. Flicker shook his head. "I don't believe my wife would be
willing," he replied. "Besides, there's that piece of tin on the roof
of the barn. Would you advise me to move that?"
"No!" Reddy cried hastily. "Don't move the tin! In fact, Mr. Flicker,
I shouldn't move at all, if I were you."
But Mr. Flicker had liked the plan of moving to the pasture to live. He
had found great quantities of ants there. And to Reddy's dismay he
insisted that he should move and take the strip of tin with him. That
is to say, he intended to move as soon as his wife gave him permission.
It was no wonder Reddy wished he had never put such an idea into his
cousin Mr. Flicker's head. He had hoped to get rid only of Mr. Flicker
and his drumming. He had never dreamed that Mr. Flicker would want to
take the precious bit of tin with him when he went.
Shortly afterward Mr. Flicker reported that it was just as he had
thought. Mrs. Flicker wouldn't listen to moving just then. But later,
after the children learned to fly, and could feed themselves, she would
have no objection to the change of residence.
Reddy Woodpecker cocked an eye toward the roof of the barn.
"That tin--" he said--"you can't take it with you when you move. It
belongs to Farmer Green."
"Oh!" Mr. Flicker exclaimed. "I thought it belonged to you. And I knew
_you_ wouldn't object to your cousin's _borrowing_ it for the rest of
the season--now would you?"
But Reddy Woodpecker wasn't going to answer any dangerous questions.
"The tin is Farmer Green's," he declared.
It seemed as if Mr. Flicker were full of alarming thoughts.
"I wish," he said, "we'd have a cyclone that would rip that tin off the
barn and carry it up to the pasture."
"Oh, my goodness!" cried Reddy Woodpecker. And he worried dreadfully
all the rest of that day. There's no knowing when he would have stopped
fretting had Mr. Flicker not made a certain report to him the following
morning.
"The Woodchuck brothers don't want me to drum for them," he announced.
"Then you aren't going to move!" cried Reddy.
"No!" Mr. Flicker replied. "And I don't intend there shall be any
cyclone, either."
So at last Reddy Woodpecker felt better.
*VII*
*THE TWO NEIGHBORS*
While Reddy Woodpecker and his cousin were getting acquainted their
wives became quite friendly. Living as they did, each in an old apple
tree at the lower end of the orchard, they often met. And since their
doorways were almost opposite each other Mrs. Woodpecker and Mrs.
Flicker didn't even have to leave their homes to enjoy a neighborly
chat.
If one of them had something specially interesting to say, all she had
to do was to stick her head out of the hole in the trunk of her tree and
call. And if the other happened to be at home it was never more than a
second before her head popped forth from her doorway. It was all very
simple and most convenient.
Everything was pleasant until one day something happened. Something
changed the friendly feelings between the two ladies. When Reddy
Woodpecker peered out of his doorway one morning Mrs. Flicker called to
him, "Good morning, my dear!"
He was so surprised he didn't know what to say.
But Mrs. Woodpecker knew what to say. It chanced that she was clinging
to a limb above their home, so screened by some leaves that Mrs. Flicker
couldn't see her. She quickly made known her presence. And she said so
much that Mrs. Flicker soon withdrew her head. She hadn't answered Mrs.
Woodpecker. Indeed she had had no opportunity; for Mrs. Woodpecker
talked fast and furiously.
"It's no wonder she hides!" Mrs. Woodpecker spluttered. "I'd like to
know what she means by calling my husband her 'dear!'"
Well, Reddy Woodpecker felt just as uncomfortable as Mrs. Flicker must
have felt. But he didn't hide. He didn't dare to hide.
"What had you said to her?" Mrs. Woodpecker demanded.
"Honestly," Reddy replied, "I hadn't said a word. I had just stuck my
head out. And the first thing I knew Mrs. Flicker called to me. You
heard what she said."
"I certainly did!" was his wife's grim response. "It was a very queer
way for her to speak to you."
"It was nothing--" Reddy assured her--"nothing at all. She made a
mistake."
"She certainly did!" cried Mrs. Woodpecker. "She didn't know I was right
here where I could hear her. She should have been more careful. That's
where she made a serious blunder."
"Oh, my goodness!" said Reddy. "I didn't mean that. It wasn't that
sort of mistake. It was this sort: Mrs. Flicker----"
"Don't mention her name to me again!" shrilled Mrs. Woodpecker.
"Well, how can I talk about her, then?" Reddy asked his wife.
"If you feel that you _must_ talk about her," said Mrs. Woodpecker,
"call her 'she.'"
"All right! She made this mistake: She thought she was talking to you."
Mrs. Woodpecker laughed bitterly at that.
"You'll have hard work making me believe it," she told her husband.
"Well, you ask her if it isn't the truth," Reddy urged.
"I will!" his wife promised. "Don't worry! I'll ask her.... And now,"
she added, "you'd better go and find some breakfast for the children.
We can get along without any early tattoo this morning."
He went.
*VIII*
*AN EARLY CALL*
Mrs. Woodpecker flew to her neighbor Mrs. Flicker's tree and rapped,
_tap-tap-tap-tap_. She didn't rap gently, either. She was not in a
gentle mood. She intended to find out why Mrs. Flicker had called to
Reddy Woodpecker, "Good morning, my dear!"
Mrs. Flicker promptly stuck her head out of her door.
"My husband is not at home," she said. And then she vanished.
"Well, the very idea! What a remark to make to me!" cried Mrs.
Woodpecker. "As if I'd call on a gentleman!" Being angrier than ever,
she rapped harder than before.
Again Mrs. Flicker peered out. Again she spoke.
"Did you wish to leave a message, Mr. Woodpecker?" she inquired.
"I'm not Mr. Woodpecker! I'm Mrs. Woodpecker!" shrieked the caller.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! My! My! My!" exclaimed Mrs. Flicker, who was greatly
astonished. "I beg your pardon! Excuse me! It's my mistake."
"It certainly isn't mine," said Mrs. Reddy Woodpecker. "It seems to me
you're making a good many mistakes this morning, madam."
Mrs. Flicker looked very unhappy. She wasn't used to being called
'madam.' She could see that Mrs. Woodpecker was furious. She wanted to
be friends with Mrs. Woodpecker.
"You and Mr. Woodpecker look very much alike," Mrs. Flicker said to her
angry caller. "When one of you peeps out of your house it's hard to
tell who's who. Just now when I came to my doorway I could see only your
head. And I thought it was your husband. When I spoke to your husband
a few minutes ago I thought it was you."
Mrs. Woodpecker stared at her neighbor for a few moments. Somehow she
thought Mrs. Flicker must be telling the truth.
"It's your red caps, I think," Mrs. Flicker went on. "They make you
look like twins."
"Dear me!" said Mrs. Woodpecker. "I hadn't thought of that. What can we
do?" Her anger had suddenly left her.
"My husband and I have things nicely arranged," Mrs. Flicker told her
caller.
"Now, you never have mistaken him for me, have you?"
"No!"
"Nor me for him?"
"No!"
"Do you know the reason?" Mrs. Flicker asked.
"No! No! I can't say I do," replied Mrs. Woodpecker eagerly.
"Well," said Mrs. Flicker, "my husband wears a black mustache.... And
of course I don't," she added.
"That's it!" cried Mrs. Woodpecker. "I hadn't realized it. But it's so.
And I must tell my husband to wear a mustache. It's the only safe way to
avoid trouble. Then people can tell us apart."
Then Mrs. Woodpecker hurried away to speak to her husband. She was
surprised that he didn't take kindly to her suggestion.
"I don't want to wear a mustache," he objected.
"But you _must_!" she insisted.
"Why don't _you_ wear one?" he inquired. "It would do just as well."
"Don't be silly!" she snapped. "Ladies never wear mustaches."
"Yes, they do," he replied.
"No, they don't!" she disputed.
Well, he saw at once that it was useless to argue with her.
"Come with me a moment, my dear!" Reddy begged her.
She thought he was going somewhere to get a mustache. So of course she
hurried after him.
Reddy Woodpecker stopped beside Farmer Green's barn.
"There!" he said, as he waved a wing towards a great poster that was
pasted upon the side of the barn. "Do you see that lady? She has a
mustache--and a beard, too!"
It was just as he said. Mrs. Woodpecker couldn't help admitting that,
to herself. And though she didn't speak to Reddy the rest of that day,
he was satisfied. For she didn't mention mustaches to him again.
"It was lucky for me," he thought, "that the circus came to these parts
this summer."
*IX*
*MRS. ROBIN WORRIES*
Though the Flickers welcomed Reddy Woodpecker when he came to live in
Pleasant Valley there was hardly another bird family that wasn't sorry
to see him settle there. Among all the feathered folk on Farmer Green's
place the Robin family was perhaps the sorriest. They had a nest of
eggs in the orchard, in a crotch of an old apple tree. And it was on
just such trees that Reddy Woodpecker spent a great deal of his time,
hunting for grubs.
Jolly Robin himself might not have paid much heed to Reddy. But Mrs.
Robin was a great worrier. Often she worried over nothing at all. And
now that she had had a few talks with timid little Mrs. Chippy about the
newcomer, Reddy Woodpecker, Mrs. Robin firmly believed that he had come
to the farm expressly to rob her of her four greenish-blue eggs. After
each talk with Mrs. Chippy Mrs. Robin came home all a-flutter.
"We'll have to watch sharp!" she said to Jolly Robin again and again.
"This Woodpecker person is a rascal. It's a pity we built here in the
orchard. We'd have been safer on top of one of the posts under Farmer
Green's porch."
"I mentioned that very place," Jolly reminded her. "But you were afraid
of Miss Kitty Cat."
Not a day passed without some such words between them. Jolly did what
he could to calm his wife's fears. He stayed near home all the time,
when often he would have liked to fly across the meadow to chat with
friends who lived on the edge of the woods.
Reddy Woodpecker never started to rap on a tree but Mrs. Robin set up a
loud twitter, begging Jolly to hurry back to the nest.
He was wonderfully patient with her. Yet he couldn't help hoping,
secretly, for the day when his family should be grown up and able to
look out for themselves.
But if Mrs. Robin was anxious about her eggs her worry was nothing
compared with what it became when the nestlings broke through their
shells.
"This is the finest family in the whole valley," she confided to her
husband. "I know that terrible Woodpecker person will steal these
children if he can."
If the youngsters didn't peep for food their mother feared they were
ill. If they did peep she feared Reddy Woodpecker would hear them.
"He's such a dangerous person!" she would exclaim. "I wonder if he ever
eats anything except eggs and nestlings."
"Yes, indeed!" Jolly assured her again and again. "He eats grubs, which
he finds on the trees. And he eats insects, which he catches in the
air."
"Thank goodness!" Mrs. Robin murmured. But her relief was short-lived.
For she happened to meet little Mrs. Chippy one day and learned another
bit of distressing news about Reddy Woodpecker. "He's a fruit eater!"
Mrs. Robin told Jolly. "And you know we've been depending on the
raspberries for our children."
A few days later she came home in a dreadful state of mind.
"I went to take a look at the raspberry patch," she explained to her
good husband. "I knew the berries would soon be ripe. In fact I've had
my eye on one that was almost ready to be picked. And what do you
think? Eight before my own eyes that ruffianly Reddy Woodpecker picked
it and ate it himself!"
"Don't worry about that!" said Jolly Robin.
But Mrs. Robin insisted on worrying; nothing he said could stop her.
"Reddy Woodpecker is taking the food out of our children's mouths!" she
wailed. "You'll have to drive him away from the raspberry patch! You'll
have to fight him!"
Now, Jolly Robin hardly thought that he was a match for Reddy
Woodpecker. So when his wife gave him those orders he began to worry,
himself.
*X*
*OBEYING ORDERS*
Jolly Robin's worrying wife wouldn't give him a moment's peace.
"You'd better get along over to the raspberry patch," she kept telling
him. "If you don't hurry that terrible Reddy Woodpecker will eat every
berry. He'll snatch each one as it ripens and we shall not have any to
feed our children."
Now, Jolly Robin didn't care to have any trouble with Reddy Woodpecker.
But he soon saw that if he avoided Reddy he would only have trouble with
Mrs. Robin. So at last he said, "Very well! I'll attend to him, my
love." And off he flew, looking much braver than he felt. You'd have
thought, to see him, that he longed to find Reddy Woodpecker. Really he
hoped that he wouldn't find Reddy anywhere.
Much to Jolly Robin's dismay he met Reddy Woodpecker among the raspberry
bushes. Jolly jumped when he saw that dashing newcomer. But it was too
late to dodge out of sight. Reddy Woodpecker saw him. So Jolly Robin
made up his mind to put on a bold front. Sitting on a fence post that
overlooked the raspberry patch he stared hard at Reddy Woodpecker. He
thought perhaps he could frighten him away.
He might as well have stared at the barn door. To his great distress
Reddy Woodpecker picked a berry and flew to a near-by post, where he sat
and ate the fruit with relish. When he had finished the dainty he
pretended to notice Jolly Robin for the first time and he bowed and
scraped in the politest fashion.
Still Jolly Robin did not utter a word. Nor did he return any of Reddy's
bows. But he began to feel himself swelling; he began to feel his
feathers ruffle up. And he knew then that he must speak soon or burst.
For there was no doubt that he was growing angry. So presently he
cried:
"Was that raspberry ripe?"
"Yes," replied Reddy Woodpecker, "and very juicy."
Now, Jolly Robin hadn't meant to ask any such question as that. He had
meant to make some cutting remark. But he was so in the habit of being
pleasant to everybody that it was very hard for him to be disagreeable.
"A-ahem!" he said. "Pardon me, sir! Did--did you know that my wife and
I have been expecting to pick these raspberries for our children?"
But he might as well have said nothing at all. For Reddy Woodpecker
only laughed and exclaimed, "You're a joker, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not," Jolly replied.
"Yes, you are," said Reddy Woodpecker. "You can't fool me. I know well
enough that you don't intend to bring your children up on berries. I've
seen you pulling angleworms for them too many times." Then Reddy
dropped off his post and clung to a bush while he picked another berry
that seemed redder than the rest.
"Well," Jolly thought, "I've talked to him anyhow. At least I can tell
my wife that." So he left Reddy to enjoy the fruit and sailed away to
his home.
"You're back very quickly," Mrs. Robin remarked when she saw him.
"Didn't you find that Woodpecker person?"
"Oh, yes! I found him," Jolly explained. "I found him and I talked with
him, too."
Mrs. Robin cast a sharp glance at her husband.
"Where is he now?" she inquired.
"He's eating raspberries in the berry patch," Jolly told her. "When I
talked with him I said----"
"You _said_!" Mrs. Robin interrupted. "You _said_! The question is,
what did you _do_? If you didn't fight him you must go back and do your
duty."
There was nothing he could do except obey her. So, feeling very
desperate, Jolly Robin hurried back to the place where the raspberry
bushes grew by the fence. He gave three loud chirps, to encourage
himself. And then he darted down and sailed very close to Reddy
Woodpecker's head. He didn't pause an instant to see what effect this
action had on Reddy Woodpecker, but flew away as quickly as he could.
"I guess I scared him that time," he muttered.
Meanwhile Reddy Woodpecker stared after him and watched him as he
disappeared among the apple tree tops.
"Well, what do you think of that?" he said to himself with a grin.
*XI*
*A VERY SHORT FIGHT*
Jolly Robin told his wife how he swooped down over Reddy Woodpecker's
head. And he assured her that he had no doubt that Mr. Woodpecker would
not be seen among the raspberry bushes again.
Jolly had felt quite pleased with himself. His threatened attack on
Reddy had seemed to him to be very daring. So he was disappointed when
his wife did not praise him.
"You ought to have stuck that rascal with your bill," Mrs. Robin
complained. "If he's the sort of person I think he is he'll pay no heed
to your warning."
As usual, Mrs. Robin proved to be right. That very day she herself
beheld Reddy Woodpecker eating more raspberries. He had stolen every
ripe berry. Though Mrs. Robin had hoped to find four (one for each of
her nestlings) she didn't pick even one. They were all too hard and
sour.
"It's a pity," she said to Jolly. "Everybody knows now-a-days that
children need fruit. The day is past when you can bring them up on
nothing but angleworms. You'll have to go back there to the raspberry
patch and fight Reddy. You can't escape a fight any longer."
Well, what could he do? What could Jolly Robin do but obey his wife?
He asked himself that question. And he could find only one answer. It
was "Nothing!" There was nothing he could think of that would satisfy
Mrs. Robin except a real battle. So he went forth.
Yes! Jolly Robin went forth very bravely to find Reddy Woodpecker. He
meant to surprise him. But it was Jolly who received the surprise.
Reddy Woodpecker attacked first! The moment he spied Jolly Robin Reddy
hurled himself at him. He skimmed so near to Jolly's head that that
astonished little fellow ducked and hurried away. Yes! Jolly Robin
retreated. It wasn't that Reddy Woodpecker was bigger than he was. To
tell the truth, Reddy wasn't quite so big. But he liked to fight. And
Jolly Robin loved peace.
Jolly hid in the midst of a thick hedge that grew beyond the fence.
"Well," he muttered, "that fight was soon over. There's no use of
telling Mrs. Robin about it. She would only worry." He there a long
time. He didn't want to go home. He didn't know what to do. So he
thought and thought; until at last a happy idea popped into his head.
"I'll get help!" he exclaimed. "I'll get my friends from the other side
of the meadow to come and help me fight Reddy."
Mrs. Robin was worrying terribly when Jolly reached home.
"You've been gone a long time," she complained. "Did you chase that
Woodpecker person out of the valley?"
"No!" said Jolly. "But I expect to to-morrow."
"I thought I told you to fight him to-day," said his wife somewhat
tartly.
"Yes! Yes!" he replied hastily. "We had a set-to--Mr. Woodpecker and
I. But the real fight will take place to-morrow."
"I'm glad to hear you talk that way at last," she told him. "It's high
time something was done."
*XII*
*JOLLY ROBIN'S HELPER*
The next morning Jolly Robin told his wife that she would have to do all
the work of gathering the children's breakfast. "You know, my love," he
explained, "I have important business to attend to to-day." And before
she had time to object he left her.
Over near the garden fence he met three plump Robins who had flown
across the meadow to help him fight Reddy Woodpecker. And soon the four
had dropped down into the raspberry patch.
Reddy Woodpecker had not arrived. So, while they were waiting Jolly
Robin's friends helped themselves to berries. Under the hot sun the
fruit had ripened fast. Finding it both sweet and juicy they ate of it
freely. And Jolly Robin could think of no reason why he should not do
likewise.
By the time Reddy Woodpecker came, all the Robins from over the meadow
were feeling so well fed and good-natured that they were in anything but
a fighting mood.
"Let that Woodpecker enjoy this fruit if he likes it," they said to
Jolly in an undertone. "There's more than enough for everybody. And
now," they told him, "we must go home, because we have to help our wives
feed our children."
Off they flew. And Jolly Robin found himself alone with Reddy
Woodpecker.
"Ahem!" exclaimed Jolly Robin. "It's a fine morning, isn't it?"
"Delightful!" said Reddy Woodpecker.
"It looks as if you and I were going to have this raspberry patch all to
ourselves, doesn't it?" Jolly continued.
Reddy Woodpecker agreed with him.
"We ought to keep others out of it," said Jolly.
Again Reddy Woodpecker was of the same mind as he.
"Then this is a bargain!" cried Jolly Robin. "I'll ask you to guard the
place alone for a few minutes while I go home and speak to my wife."
Reddy Woodpecker grinned as he watched Jolly Robin winging his way
homeward.
"Humph!" he grunted. "I may as well let that Robin have a taste of
these berries. I certainly can't eat them all, nor carry them all home
to my family."
Jolly Robin found his wife anxiously awaiting his return.
"Have you chased that Woodpecker person away?" she demanded.
"No, my love," he replied. "I 've made other arrangements. Mr.
Woodpecker is working for me now. So of course I don't want to scare
him off the farm. He's helping me at the raspberry patch. He's helping
me to guard the fruit. In fact I couldn't have come back to speak to
you now if it wasn't for him. He's watching the berries for me now."
"Nonsense!" cried Mrs. Robin. "If that Woodpecker person is in the
raspberry patch you may be sure he's eating berries as fast as he can."
"Only a few!" Jolly assured her. "There's more than enough for our
family and his."
"How do you know that?" she demanded. "Did you count the berries?"
"No!" he replied.
"Go back and count them at once!" she commanded.
"Yes, my love!" Jolly answered.
He really did try to count the berries. But he soon found it to be an
impossible task. Reddy Woodpecker ate so many raspberries and carried
so many home to his children that Jolly Robin despaired of ever settling
upon the correct number.
He felt very unhappy over the matter. And he even asked Reddy Woodpecker
what he ought to do.
"Oh, tell your wife there are a million," Reddy Woodpecker suggested.
"If she doesn't believe you, let her count them herself!"
"Oh, I couldn't do that," said Jolly Robin.
"Well, I say there are a million," Reddy declared. Then he picked and
ate another berry. "Now there are nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand
nine hundred and ninety-nine," he announced. "Go home and tell your wife
I said so."
So Jolly Robin went. He went and told Mrs. Robin what Reddy Woodpecker
had said.