````A quarrel you may often stay
````By letting others have their way.=
|AND you will find, too, that other people are quite as likely to be
right as you are. Now while Bob White told Mrs. Bob that he guessed she
was right in choosing the place she did for their home he was not at all
sure of it in his own mind. It wasn't a place he would have chosen if
the matter had been left to him. No, Sir, that place wouldn't have been
his choice. He knew of at least half a dozen places which he thought
much better and safer. But, after all, this was to be Mrs. Bob's home
even more than his, for she was the one who would have to stay there all
the long days sitting on those beautiful white eggs they hoped to have
soon.
So Bob kept his opinions to himself, and if he worried a little because
the new home was so close to the Crooked Little Path along which Reddy
and Granny Fox went so often, he said nothing and brought his share of
grasses, straw and leaves with which to build the nest. Mrs. Bob was
very particular about that nest. Just a common open nest wouldn't do.
Perhaps in that wise little head of hers she guessed just what was going
on in Bob's mind and how he really didn't approve at all of building
there. So she made a very clever little roof or dome of grasses and
straw over the nest with a little entrance on one side. When it was all
done only the very sharpest eyes ever would discover it.
Of course Bob was proud of it, very proud indeed. “My dear, it's the
finest nest I've ever seen,” he declared. “I hope, I do hope no one will
find it.”
Mrs. Bob looked at him sharply. “Why don't you own up that you wish it
was somewhere else?” she demanded.
Bob looked a little foolish. “I can't quite get over the idea that this
is a very dangerous place,” he confessed. “But I've great faith in your
judgment, my dear,” he hastened to add.
“Then see to it that you are careful when you come over this way and
never under any circumstances fly directly here,” retorted Mrs. Bob.
“Keep away unless I call for you, and when you do come fly over in the
long grass back there and then keep out of sight and walk over here
under cover of the grass and weeds.”
Bob promised he would do just as she had told him to, and to prove it he
stole away through the long grass and did not take wing until he was
far from the nest. Then he flew over beyond the dear Old Briar-path and
whistled with all his might from sheer happiness.
It wasn't long before there were fifteen beautiful white eggs in the
nest in the weeds beside the Crooked Little Path, and then Bob's anxiety
increased, you may be sure. Time and time again he saw Reddy Fox or
Granny Fox or Jimmy Skunk trot down the Crooked Little Path and he knew
that they were coming to look for his nest. But never once did they
think of looking in that patch of weeds, for it never entered their
heads that any one would build so close to a path they used so much. But
they hunted and hunted everywhere else.
And all the time little Mrs. Bob sat on those white eggs and the color
of her cloak was so nearly the color of the brown grasses and leaves
that even if they had looked straight at her it isn't at all likely that
they would have seen her. Little by little Bob confessed to himself that
Mrs. Bob was right. She had chosen the very safest place on the Green
Meadows for their home. It was safest because it was the last place
any one would look for it. Then Bob grew less anxious and spent all his
spare time in fooling those who were looking for his home.