"I'm very well, thank you!" cried Ferdinand Frog instantly. "How are
you?"
Reddy Woodpecker had to explain that Mr. Frog hadn't understood him.
"What I was going to ask you," he said, "was not 'How do you do?' It
was 'How do you do that?'"
"That what?" Ferdinand Frog inquired.
"How do you spear flies with your tongue when they're in the air?" Reddy
Woodpecker asked. "I can spear grubs and things with my tongue when
they're on a tree. And I can catch flies in my mouth when I'm flying.
But I've never learned your trick."
"I don't spear flies," said Mr. Frog.
Of course Reddy Woodpecker thought that Mr. Frog had told a _whopper_.
Hadn't he been watching him?
"I don't spear flies with my tongue," Ferdinand Frog went on. "My
tongue is sticky. When it touches a fly, he's caught. It's very
simple."
"That's an elegant way to catch 'em," Reddy remarked.
"Yes," said Mr. Frog; "and that's an elegant suit you're wearing. Would
you mind if I copied it? You know, I'm the well known tailor of
Pleasant Valley. And I'm always on the lookout for something different.
Your clothes are different from any I've ever seen before. I dare say
they'll become quite fashionable in about ten years."
Well, Reddy Woodpecker didn't know whether to be angry or pleased. He
had heard that Mr. Frog was queer. But he hadn't supposed Mr. Frog
could be as queer as he seemed.
"You may copy my suit if you wish," Reddy blurted at last.
"Good!" the tailor exclaimed. "Come with me to my shop and I'll make
some notes."
This was more than Reddy Woodpecker cared to do. "I won't!" he said
flatly.
"Tut! Tut!" cried Mr. Frog. "You promised I might copy your suit. You
mustn't break your promise."
"I'm not going inside any shop," Reddy declared very firmly.
"Of course not!" said Mr. Frog. "I'll go inside. _You_ can stay
outside. And I'll look you over through the doorway and jot down what I
need."
"All right!" said Reddy Woodpecker.
So Mr. Frog leaped ashore and gayly led the way to his shop near-by.
*XXI*
*THE ODD MR. FROG*
Reddy Woodpecker stood on the doorstep of Mr. Frog's shop. And inside
the tiny building Mr. Frog the tailor squatted cross-legged and
scratched upon a flat stone. Now and then he glanced up to look closely
at Reddy Woodpecker.
"Colors: red, white and--yes! blue!" Mr. Frog murmured, blinking his
bulging eyes at Reddy Woodpecker. "It's a little too blackish for my
taste, but it's certainly blue.... A good suit for the Fourth of July!"
he muttered. "Just the thing for a clown to wear in a parade of
Horribles!"
Mr. Frog's remarks did not please Reddy Woodpecker. In fact they made
him very angry. But Mr. Frog didn't appear to notice that. He went
right on talking to himself.
"Red head and black tail!" he said, scratching upon his stone all the
while. "Black head and red tail would be much better."
"I didn't come here to be abused!" Reddy Woodpecker spluttered.
The tailor paid no heed to Reddy's protest.
"Too much stiffening in the tail!" Mr. Frog mumbled. "Colors too gay
for everyday wear! Too loud for the best taste!"
By this time Reddy Woodpecker had become so furious that he couldn't
speak.
Meanwhile Mr. Frog continued to look him over calmly, and as his gaze
fell at last upon Reddy's feet he began to titter.
"This person's feet are all wrong," he chanted, scratching like mad upon
his flat stone. "Never saw a bird before with toes like his. The rule
for birds is: three toes in front, one toe in back. This person has two
in front and two in back. I _thought_ there was something queer about
him."
"Look here!" Reddy Woodpecker burst forth. "I won't stay here any
longer. You're making fun of me. I don't care if I did promise. If my
clothes are so queer why do you want to copy them?"
"I don't _want_ to copy them," Mr. Frog replied. "I'd _hate_ to copy
them."
"Then why did you ask me to stand here in front of your shop while you
wrote down all this nonsense?"
"You're mistaken," Mr. Frog told him. "I haven't written a word. I
asked you to come here because you look like a customer. It's good
business to have customers seen about my shop. I haven't had a _real_
customer this season," he added somewhat sadly. "So you can't blame me
if I want people to think I have one at last--now can you?"
Reddy Woodpecker had no patience with him.
"I think you're nothing but a fraud," he declared. "I don't believe
you're a tailor at all."
"Dear me!" said Mr. Frog. "Maybe I'm not. Sometimes I've wondered if I
wasn't fooling myself."
"You'd better stick to catching flies," Reddy advised him. "That's all
you're good for."
"Perhaps you're right," Mr. Frog replied. He seemed quite meek and
mournful. But all at once he smiled. "Anyhow," he remarked, "it's lucky
that the flies stick to me--now isn't it?"
*XXII*
*DODGING DANGER*
Soon after Reddy Woodpecker settled in Farmer Green's orchard he noticed
that a certain person often followed him. The stranger wore gray fur
and always flourished a long, bushy tail behind him. He could climb
trees as well as Reddy Woodpecker himself. And though he couldn't fly,
he was very skillful at leaping from one tree top into another.
Whenever Reddy Woodpecker happened to turn around and spy this lurking
stranger the fellow acted as if he hadn't seen Reddy Woodpecker. He
would pretend to whisk a bit of bark off the tip of his tail, or arrange
his mustache. But the moment Reddy turned his back upon him the
stranger would creep a little nearer.
At last this sly person made a quick dash at Reddy Woodpecker one day.
He discovered, then, that Reddy was both wide-awake and spry. For Reddy
slipped off the tree trunk where he had been clinging and easily escaped
the greedy clutches of the stranger.
It's no wonder that Reddy was angry. No one would care to have his
breakfast interrupted in such a fashion.
"I knew that sneak meant to catch me if he could," Reddy muttered to
himself as he went on with his breakfast.
A few moments later his cousin Mr. Flicker settled upon an ant hill
below him.
"Who is that stranger?" Reddy Woodpecker asked Mr. Flicker.
Mr. Flicker glanced at the sly person who was just dodging behind a
limb.
"He's no stranger," said Mr. Flicker. "He has lived here a good deal
longer than you have. That's Frisky Squirrel."
"Well, he's a little too frisky," Reddy Woodpecker scolded. "He just
jumped at me. He has been trying to catch me ever since I came to the
farm."
Mr. Flicker laughed.
"That's a regular trick of his," he remarked. "He's always jumping off
a fence post at me. But I have no trouble dodging him."
"I don't see why he wants to catch me," Reddy grumbled. "He can't
know--yet--that I'm fond of nuts. But in the fall, when the nuts are
ripe, I expect I'll make him almost crazy."
The next time Reddy met his tormentor he called to him as pleasantly as
if there'd never been any trouble between them.
"How's this place for nuts?"
"Fine!" cried Frisky Squirrel. "The woods beyond the meadow are famous
for their beechnuts."
"That's good news," said Reddy. "I'm glad I settled here."'
Frisky gave him a sharp look. "You don't like beechnuts, do you?" he
asked.
"Don't I? Oh, don't I?" Reddy cried.
Strange to say Frisky Squirrel knew the answer to that question.
"Oh! You _do_ like them!" he chattered. "Well, maybe there aren't as
many beechnuts as I thought. Maybe the beechnutting is poor here. No
doubt I'm mistaken about it. Why don't you go over on the other side of
Blue Mountain to live? You're _sure_ to find plenty of beechnuts over
there next fall."
Reddy Woodpecker laughed heartily. Frisky Squirrel could not deceive
him.
*XXIII*
*BEECHNUTS*
"I'm going to stay right here on this farm," Reddy Woodpecker declared.
"I like this place."
"Perhaps you expect to leave for the South before the beechnuts are
ripe," Frisky Squirrel suggested hopefully.
"Not I!" replied Reddy Woodpecker. "If I leave, I shall wait until the
last beechnut is eaten. And no doubt I shall not leave at all. This
looks to me like a good place to spend the winter."
Now that Frisky Squirrel knew Reddy Woodpecker ate beechnuts he was more
determined than ever to catch him. He had hunted Reddy before. Now he
haunted him. He dogged Reddy Woodpecker's footsteps. He crept up
behind him and jumped at him a dozen times a day.
Though Frisky didn't know it, he couldn't have captured Reddy Woodpecker
in a thousand years. Reddy was too wary to be caught. He always
chuckled after dodging. And he always called mockingly, "Not this time,
young fellow!"
All summer long the chase went on. Frisky Squirrel seemed to think that
if only he hunted Reddy long enough there would come a time when he
would catch him napping.
Now, every year as fall drew near it was Frisky's custom to go each day
to the woods, to inspect the beechnuts. He went very slyly. It was a
business of great importance. Of course he didn't care to have
everybody know what he was doing.
Imagine his annoyance, then, on his first trip to the beech grove, to
hear Reddy Woodpecker call out to him, "What do you think of 'em? Will
they be ready to eat soon?"
Reddy was high up in a beech tree. And Frisky Squirrel was so angry
that he could only look up at him and chatter.
"You haven't answered my questions," Reddy observed presently. "Perhaps
you aren't a good judge of beechnuts. Perhaps I'd better ask Jasper
Jay."
That threat made Frisky Squirrel angrier than ever. He darted up the
tree as fast as he could scramble. If he hadn't been so angry he would
have known how utterly useless it was to try to catch Reddy Woodpecker
when Reddy was looking right at him.
Reddy calmly moved to another tree. Frisky Squirrel leaped into the top
of it. Again Reddy moved.
Then Frisky sat up on a limb and glared at him.
"Don't mention these nuts to Jasper Jay!" he cried. "I've been hoping
he'd forget about them. Eat what you want--if you must. But for
goodness' sake don't go and tell the whole neighborhood about them.
Just between you and me, these nuts will be ready to eat as soon as
there's a frost to sweeten them."
"You're very kind," Reddy Woodpecker told him. "Very kind indeed!"
Well, in about two weeks there was a frost. When Reddy Woodpecker awoke
one morning the fields were white and a thin coating of ice covered the
watering-trough in the barnyard.
Some of the birds in Pleasant Valley had long since left for the South.
And many of those that hadn't announced that they expected to start for
a milder climate that very evening.
The weather soon grew warmer. And on the following day Reddy Woodpecker
and Frisky Squirrel met at the beech grove.
"These are good nuts, eh?" called Reddy.
"They'd taste sweeter if you weren't here," Frisky Squirrel mumbled out
of a full mouth.
*XXIV*
*THE WINTER'S STORE*
After Frisky Squirrel had enjoyed a hearty meal of beechnuts he began to
make hurried trips to a hollow tree nearby. He lived in that tree. It
had a fine big storeroom. And there he carried beechnuts in his cheeks.
Frisky did not intend to go hungry when winter came.
Meanwhile he watched Reddy Woodpecker out of the corner of his eye. He
still hoped to catch Reddy unawares. And at last Frisky saw something
that he hadn't expected to see. It made him stop short and stare.
He saw Reddy Woodpecker loosen a bit of bark and hide a beechnut under
it. Soon he beheld Reddy stowing beechnuts away in a hole in an old
stump.
Frisky Squirrel was wild with rage.
"I told you you might eat as many nuts as you pleased, if only you
wouldn't mention beechnuts to Jasper Jay. I didn't say you might hide
beechnuts. But I've caught you hoarding them!"
Reddy Woodpecker was not ruffled--not even a single feather.
"I'm putting away a few nuts," he admitted. "I expect to spend the
winter here. And of course I shall need something to eat."
"Don't you dare hide another nut!" Frisky Squirrel scolded.
"You're hoarding nuts yourself!"
"That's different," Frisky blustered.
All at once a loud, harsh voice squalled right above their heads. It
belonged to Jasper Jay. "A quarrel!" he bawled. "A quarrel over
beechnuts! I must do what I can to stop it. I'll gather as many
beechnuts as I can; because when they're all gone there won't be
anything to quarrel about."
"Another hoarder!" chattered Frisky.
And Jasper Jay was not the last to appear. For Johnnie Green soon came
hurrying up with a basket. And Frisky regarded him with great disfavor.
"Another hoarder!" Frisky groaned. And he began to scold Johnnie. "Go
away!" he cried. "We don't want you here." To his great disgust
Johnnie Green shied a stone at him and told him not to be saucy.
Jasper Jay jeered loudly at Frisky.
"That's what you get for being a pig," he told him. And turning to
Reddy Woodpecker, Jasper added, "You see the pigs aren't all in the
pigsty!"
Frisky Squirrel pretended that he didn't hear any of Jasper Jay's
remarks. He set to work again to gather beechnuts enough to last him all
winter and never once stopped to dash at Reddy Woodpecker nor even look
at him.
That was only the first of many busy days for Reddy. Having made up his
mind to spend the winter at Farmer Green's place he hid nuts everywhere.
No doubt he never could remember all of his hiding places. But he found
enough of them when winter came. And though Frisky Squirrel had stowed
away all the nuts he could possibly need, he never could bear to watch
Reddy Woodpecker pull out a beechnut from beneath a strip of bark.
He said he never did like to see a bird eat nuts.