days later Mollie and Whistlebinkie were strolling together through the
meadows when most unexpectedly they came upon the little red house of
the Unwiseman.
"Why, I thought this house was under the willow tree," said Mollie.
"Sotwuz," whistled Whistlebinkie through his hat.
"What are you trying to say, Whistlebinkie?" asked Mollie.
"So--it--was," replied Whistlebinkie. "He must have moved it."
"But this isn't half as nice a place for it as the old one," said
Mollie. "There isn't any shade here at all. Let's knock at the door, and
see if he is at home. Maybe he will tell us why he has moved again."
Mollie tapped gently on the door, but received no response. Then she
tried the knob, but the door was fastened.
"Nobody's home, I guess," she said.
"The back door is open," cried Whistlebinkie, running around to the rear
of the house. "Come around this way, Mollie, and we can get in."
So around Mollie went, and sure enough there was the kitchen door
standing wide open. A chicken was being grilled on the fire, and three
eggs were in the pot boiling away so actively that they would
undoubtedly have been broken had they not been boiling so long that
they had become as hard as rocks.
"Isn't he the foolishest old man that ever was," said Mollie, as she
caught sight of the chicken and the eggs. "That chicken will be burned
to a crisp, and the eggs won't be fit to eat."
"I don't understand him at all," said Whistlebinkie. "Look at this
notice to burglars he has pinned upon the wall."
Mollie looked and saw the following, printed in very awkward letters,
hanging where Whistlebinkie had indicated: