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THE TALE OF RUSTY WREN
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
[Illustration]
Tuck-Me-In Tales
(Trademark Registered)
[Illustration: "It's All Right," Said Solomon]
[Illustration: The Ant Soldiers Rushed at Daddy]
[Illustration: Mrs. Ladybug Directs Mr. Potato Bug.]
[Illustration: "What's The Joke?" Asked Rusty Wren]
[Illustration: Jasper Shrieked at the Top of His Voice]
[Illustration: "This Boy's Stuck Fast In Our Door!"]
[Illustration: Betsy Listened With Amazement to Mrs. Ladybug.]
[Illustration: Jolly Robin And Jimmy Rabbit Inspect The Snow-Man]
THE TALE OF RUSTY WREN
Tuck-Me-In Tales
(Trademark Registered)
BY
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
Author Of
Sleepy-Time Tales
(Trademark Registered)
THE TALE OF JOLLY ROBIN
THE TALE OF OLD MR. CROW
THE TALE OF SOLOMON OWL
THE TALE OF JASPER JAY
THE TALE OF RUSTY WREN
THE TALE OF DADDY LONGLEGS
THE TALE OF KIDDIE KATYDID
THE TALE OF BUSTER BUMBLEBEE
THE TALE OF FREDDIE FIREFLY
THE TALE OF BETSY BUTTERFLY
THE TALE OF BOBBY BOBOLINK
THE TALE OF CHIRPY CRICKET
THE TALE OF MRS. LADYBUG
THE TALE OF REDDY WOODPECKER
THE TALE OF GRANDMOTHER GOOSE
[Illustration: "That Won't Do," Said Rusty Wren
_Frontispiece_--(_Page 2_)]
Tuck-Me-In Tales
(Registered Trademark)
THE TALE OF RUSTY WREN
by
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
Author of
"Sleepy-Time Tales"
(Registered Trademark)
Illustrated by Harry L. Smith
New York
Grosset & Dunlap
Publishers
Made in the United States of America
Copyright, 1917, by
Grosset & Dunlap
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A PLEASANT HOME 1
II. JOHNNIE GREEN'S IDEA 6
III. THE ALARM CLOCK 11
IV. RUSTY IS JEALOUS 16
V. THE NEW BIRD 21
VI. MR. CROW TO THE RESCUE 27
VII. A NEAT HOUSEKEEPER 33
VIII. RUSTY IN TROUBLE 38
IX. ALL'S WELL AGAIN 42
X. BAD NEWS 47
XI. THE NOISE ON THE ROOF 52
XII. THE UNWELCOME VISITOR 57
XIII. BOY WANTED! 62
XIV. TOO MANY CALLERS 67
XV. MR. CHIPPY'S SON 72
XVI. THE ACCIDENT 77
XVII. HELP! HELP! 82
XVIII. THE PUZZLE 87
XIX. A FRIEND, INDEED 92
XX. AN INVITATION 99
XXI. OFF TO BLACK CREEK 104
XXII. THE FORGOTTEN GUEST 109
XXIII. A STRANGE MISTAKE 114
THE TALE OF RUSTY WREN
I
A PLEASANT HOME
Now, Rusty Wren had found--and shown to his wife--a hollow apple
tree and a hole in a fence-rail, either of which he thought would
make a pleasant place in which to live.
But since the little couple were _house wrens_, Rusty's wife said
she thought that they oughtn't to be so far from the farmhouse.
"Why not build our nest behind one of the shutters?" she
suggested.
But Rusty shook his head quickly--and with decision.
"That won't do," said he. "Somebody might come to the window and
close the shutter; and then our nest would fall to the ground. And
if we happened to have six or eight eggs in it, you know you
wouldn't like that very well."
Rusty's wife agreed with him on that point. But she still insisted
that she wanted to live near the farmhouse; and she said that she
expected her husband to find a good spot for their nest, for she
certainly wasn't going to spend the summer in a hole in a
fence-rail, or in an old apple tree, either.
Rusty Wren saw at once that there was no sense in arguing with her.
If he wanted any peace, he knew that he might as well forget the
old hollow apple tree and the hole in the fence-rail too. He had
better forget them and resume his search for a home. So he gave
his plump little cinnamon-colored body a shake and held his tail at
even a higher angle than usual, just to show people that he was
going to be the head of the house--when they should have one. Then
with a flirt of his short, round wings he hurried over to Farmer
Green's dooryard--after calling to his wife that he would come back
and tell her if he had any luck.
Rusty Wren spent some busy moments about Farmer Green's buildings.
And since he loved to be busy and was never so happy as when he had
something important to do, he hopped and climbed and fluttered to
his heart's content, looking into a hundred different holes and
cracks and crannies.
But he didn't find a single one that suited him. Every place into
which he peered was either too big or too little, or too high or
too low; or it was where the rain would beat upon it; or maybe it
was so situated that the cat could thrust her paw inside. Anyhow,
every possible nook for a nest had some drawback. And Rusty was
wondering what he could say to his wife, who was sure to be upset
if her plans went wrong, when all at once he came upon the finest
place for a house that he had ever seen. One quick look through the
small round opening that led to it was enough.
He knew right away that his search was ended. So he hurried back to
the orchard to find Mrs. Rusty and tell her the good news.
"I've found the best spot for a house in all Pleasant Valley!" he
cried, as he dropped down beside her and hopped about in his
excitement.
"Is it in a good neighborhood?" she inquired calmly.
"Yes, indeed!" he replied. "It's in a tree close to Farmer Green's
bedroom window."
"A hole in a tree!" she exclaimed somewhat doubtfully. "Not an old
squirrel's nest, I hope?"
"No, no!" he assured her. "It's not really _in_ a tree. It's nailed
to a tree. Come with me and I'll show you."
At that the bustling little pair hastened toward the farmhouse.
And, to Rusty's delight, the moment his wife saw what he had found
she said at once that it was exactly the sort of house she had
always hoped to have, some time.
II
JOHNNIE GREEN'S IDEA
It happened that just before Rusty Wren and his wife came to
Pleasant Valley to look for a home, Johnnie Green had an idea.
He found the idea in the weekly paper which the letter-carrier left
each Friday in the mail box at the crossroads. On the Children's
Page Johnnie read a story about a pair of house wrens. And he
learned then that an old tin can nailed to a tree makes exactly the
sort of house that wrens like.
Well, Johnnie Green began at once to look for a tin can. He had
made up his mind that he would try to coax a couple of those busy
little songsters to nest near-by, where he could have fun watching
them.
Not finding an _old_ tin can that suited him, Johnnie took a shiny
maple syrup can, which his father said he might have. It seemed to
him that it was just the kind he needed, for the only opening in it
was a small round hole in the top, hardly bigger than a
twenty-five-cent piece. (The story in the weekly paper said that
the wrens' doorway should be as small as that, so that no ruffianly
English sparrows could enter the house and disturb the little
people that were to dwell there.)
Johnnie Green punched a few nail holes in the sides of the syrup
can, because he thought that if _he_ lived in such a place, he
would want plenty of fresh air. Then he nailed a board to the can.
And next he nailed the board to a cherry tree close to the house.
After that Johnnie had nothing more to do but wait. And he had not
waited two days before Rusty Wren discovered the bright tin can
that was to be his summer home.
As soon as she saw it, Rusty's wife said that there must be kind
people living in the farmhouse, or they never would have driven
nails through a spick-and-span can just to make strangers happy.
Since their search was ended, the tiny pair began building their
nest right then and there. In a surprisingly short time they had
completely filled their new house with twigs. And as soon as they
had done that much, in the center of the mass of twigs they built a
nest of dried grasses, singing the merriest of songs while they
worked.
Of course, Johnnie Green was delighted. All the time the lively
little couple were at work upon their new home it was easy to find
Johnnie. But it was hard to get him to do any errands, because he
didn't want to stir from the dooryard, he was so interested in what
was going on.
Farmer Green, too, seemed pleased. And though he didn't spend much
time watching Mr. and Mrs. Rusty (he said that he had to work, the
same as they), he remarked to Johnnie that he was glad to see that
the newcomers were already paying rent for their house.
Johnnie Green looked puzzled.
"Rent?" he exclaimed. "I don't understand."
"Just hear them!" his father replied. "Isn't their singing pay
enough for the use of a tin syrup can?"
"That's so!" cried Johnnie. "I never thought of that. Why, they've
turned that can into a regular music-box!"
III
THE ALARM CLOCK
All summer long Farmer Green rose while the world was still gray,
before the sun climbed over the mountain to flood Pleasant Valley
with his golden light.
One might think that Farmer Green would have had some trouble
awaking so early in the morning. And perhaps he might have
overslept now and then had he not had a never-failing alarm clock
to arouse him.
It was not one of those man-made clocks, which go off with a
deafening clatter and bring a startled body to his feet before he
is really awake. No! Farmer Green had something much pleasanter
than that; and it was not in his bedroom, either.
His alarm clock was in his dooryard, for it was Rusty Wren himself
who always warned him that day was breaking and that it was time to
get up and go to work.
Every morning, without fail, Rusty sang his dawn song right under
Farmer Green's window. His musical trill, sounding very much like
the brook that rippled its way down the side of Blue Mountain,
always made Farmer Green feel glad that another day had come.
"If that busy little chap is up----" he often said, meaning Rusty
Wren, of course--"if he's up there's no reason why I should lie
here and sleep."
And since everybody else in the house followed Farmer Green's
custom of rising early, it happened that so small a bird as Rusty
Wren aroused the whole household out of their beds.
To be sure, Johnnie Green--sitting up and rubbing his eyes
sleepily--sometimes wished that Rusty would skip his dawn song once
in a while. And he told his father at breakfast one day that since
he was not a bird, he saw no reason why he should get up with the
sun.
"You needn't," said Farmer Green. "But you know the old saying
about 'early to bed and early to rise,' don't you?"
Johnnie remembered that such habits were supposed to make one
"healthy, wealthy and wise." And since he hated to take medicine,
and was trying to save enough money to buy him a gun, and disliked
to be kept in after school for not knowing his lessons, he decided
that perhaps it was just as well, after all, to follow Rusty
Wren's example.
Now, Farmer Green spoke so often and so pleasantly of Rusty Wren,
saying that nobody could want a better little alarm clock than he,
that Rusty began to take a great deal of pride in his morning task
of awakening the household. It could hardly be called a task,
however, because Rusty thoroughly enjoyed singing, though when he
sang--as when he did anything else--he put every ounce of his
strength into the effort. With his head lifted as high as his short
neck would permit, and his tail (which usually stuck pertly
upwards) drooping downward, as if he had for the moment forgotten
it, he poured forth his music with such fervor that his small body
actually trembled.
You see, Rusty Wren never did things by halves. When he did
anything he was never satisfied with less than his best.
And that was another reason why Farmer Green liked him.
IV
RUSTY IS JEALOUS
Before Rusty Wren came to live in Farmer Green's dooryard the
family had been known to oversleep now and then. Working hard all
day long as everybody did (except Johnnie Green, who played hard
enough--goodness knows!), they slept very soundly at night. And two
or three times every summer they were sure to rise late, just by
accident.
Though such a mishap always annoyed Farmer Green, it never troubled
either the hired man or Johnnie in the least. On the contrary, they
seemed to enjoy those occasions. But with Rusty Wren to rouse them
at dawn all that was changed. And Farmer Green remarked one day
that one thing was certain; they would lose no time that summer by
staying in bed too long.
That very afternoon he had to go to the village. And when he came
home he brought several surprises with him.
Those surprises pleased Johnnie and his mother so much that when he
went to bed that night Farmer Green felt even happier than was
usual with him. He went to bed somewhat early because he said he
had more work than ever to do the next day, on account of his
having gone to the village.
But happy as he was that night, the following morning Farmer Green
was quite out of sorts. For the whole family overslept. Not a soul
awaked until the sun had been up at least an hour.
"I don't understand----" Farmer Green said at the breakfast
table--"I don't understand why I failed to hear that wren this
morning. I must have been unusually sleepy."
The hired man helped himself to some more griddle-cakes and
remarked that it was a pity. But somehow he did not _look_ sorry,
in spite of what he said.
"We'll go to bed early to-night," Farmer Green continued, "so we'll
be sure to wake up before sunrise."
And, strange to say, the next morning the very same accident
happened again.
"I don't see what's come over me," said Farmer Green. "I don't hear
that wren singing right under my window any more. I thought that
maybe the cat had caught him. But there he is this very moment, on
that limb!"
Everybody said it certainly was odd, for the wren always sang as
soon as it began to grow light.
Well, that night Farmer Green went to bed before dark, declaring
that he must be up bright and early in the morning.
"I wish that new clock I brought home day before yesterday was an
alarm clock," he said. "Then I wouldn't have to worry about waking
up on time.... Anyhow, I ought to hear the wren again to-morrow
morning."
But Farmer Green hoped in vain. Though the cat had not caught
Rusty, and he had not moved away, either, he no longer sang beneath
Farmer Green's window at dawn.
For three mornings he had gone to the orchard to trill his dawn
song; and though they did not know the reason, that was why the
Green family rose late for three mornings running.
Once Rusty Wren had been proud to be called Farmer Green's alarm
clock. But now something had happened that made him resolve to stop
waking the household.
It was all on account of one of those surprises that Farmer Green
had brought home from the village. For without intending to do any
such thing, Farmer Green had surprised Rusty Wren as well as
Johnnie and his mother.
Now, a surprise may be one of two kinds--pleasant or unpleasant.
And, strangely enough, the very thing that delighted the Green
family sent Rusty Wren into a spasm of jealous rage.
Of course, it was very silly of him to lose his temper. But he was
too upset to stop to think of that.
V
THE NEW BIRD
Farmer Green had not been home long, after his trip to the village,
when Rusty Wren heard a sound that for once made him keep quite
still for at least five seconds.
"Cuckoo! cuckoo!" The cry came from inside the farmhouse. And since
the windows were wide open, Rusty could easily hear it from the
tree near-by, where he lived.
"There's a new bird in there!" Rusty Wren exclaimed to himself as
soon as the sound reached his ears. He listened intently. But the
call was not repeated.
"Farmer Green is not satisfied with my singing!" Rusty cried. And
thereupon he flew into such a rage that when his wife came home, a
few minutes later, she was actually frightened.
"What in the world is the matter?" she asked her husband anxiously.
"Matter?" cried Rusty Wren. "Here I've sung my best for Farmer
Green all summer, and waked him at dawn every morning without fail!
And what do you suppose he's done? He has brought home a strange
bird from the village, because he doesn't care for my singing."
Mrs. Rusty Wren told her husband that he must be mistaken.
"Maybe a bird flew inside the farmhouse by accident," she said.
"What kind of bird is it?" she inquired.
"It _said_ 'Cuckoo!'" Rusty explained. "But if it's a cuckoo, it's
different from any other I've ever heard. You know yourself that
Black Bill Cuckoo who lives in the bushes beyond the orchard says
'_Cow, cow!_'"
"I wouldn't worry, if I were you," Mrs. Rusty advised her husband.
"No doubt this strange bird has already made his escape."
It was then after sunset. And soon Rusty Wren's family were all
fast asleep, without having heard any more bird notes from the
farmhouse.
The next morning Rusty awoke just as the first streaks of gray
showed in the east. He was about to begin his dawn song when
through the kitchen window came that "Cuckoo! cuckoo!" again.
Rusty knew then that the strange bird was still there.
"Did you hear that?" he asked his wife.
She nodded her head silently.
"He's telling Farmer Green that it's time to get up!" Rusty
exclaimed indignantly. "And since Farmer Green has seen fit to get
somebody else to wake him, I certainly shall not trouble myself on
his account any more."
So Rusty Wren flew away to the orchard to sing his dawn song. Jolly
Robin, who lived there, in an old apple tree, was surprised to hear
Rusty Wren singing in that neighborhood so early. And he was still
more astonished at Rusty's melody.
His voice was so much shriller than usual that Jolly Robin knew
instantly that something had displeased him.
"What's happened to upset you?" Jolly Robin inquired, after Rusty
had finished singing.
"I expect to come here and give my dawn song every morning," Rusty
remarked. "And if there's anybody living in the orchard that
objects, he had better move away at once."
Of course Jolly Robin didn't want to do that. And he said as much,
too.
"But I hope you'll sing a little more happily," he told Rusty,
"because I don't like to hear people complaining--and neither does
my wife."
* * * * *
It is easy to understand why Farmer Green and his family overslept,
when one knows that Rusty Wren no longer sang his dawn song beneath
Farmer Green's window. And when Rusty saw that the whole household
never stirred until long after sunrise, he was so pleased that he
couldn't help making a few remarks about the new bird in the
farmhouse, which had annoyed him so by singing "Cuckoo! cuckoo!"
"This stranger is a very poor songster!" Rusty said to his wife.
"All he can sing is 'Cuckoo! cuckoo!' in that silly way of his. He
has no trills and runs and ripples at all! And he can't even repeat
his song ten times a minute, as I give mine. He has to wait at
least half an hour before he cries 'Cuckoo! cuckoo!' again. And no
one but a simpleton would ever attempt to awaken a hard-working
farmer by such half-hearted singing."
Mrs. Rusty quite agreed with her husband.
"Farmer Green will be sorry he brought home such a worthless bird,"
she said.
VI
MR. CROW TO THE RESCUE
As time went on, and the Green family overslept each morning, Rusty
began to grow very weary of the monotonous "Cuckoo! cuckoo!" which
came every half hour, all day long, through the kitchen window of
the farmhouse.
"I'd like to know what sort of bird that is!" he exclaimed at last.
"If he'd only come out here in the yard I'd ask him his name--and
tell him what I think of him, too."
But the stranger never stirred out of the kitchen. And at length
Rusty decided to make inquiries about him. Seeing Jimmy Rabbit
passing through the orchard on his way home from the cabbage-patch,
Rusty called to him.
"If you happen to see old Mr. Crow, I wish you would ask him if he
won't please come right over to the orchard," Rusty Wren said.
"There's something I want to find out. And Mr. Crow knows so much
that perhaps he can help me."
Jimmy Rabbit declared that he would be delighted to deliver the
message. And he must have gone out of his way to find Mr. Crow, for
the old gentleman arrived at the orchard in less than sixteen
minutes.
Rusty was waiting for him. And, having explained about the strange
bird as well as he could, he asked Mr. Crow what he thought.
"I'd like to hear his song," said old Mr. Crow.
"Come right over to my tree near the house!" Rusty urged him.
Mr. Crow hesitated.
"Where's Farmer Green?" he inquired.
"Oh! He's working in the hayfield."
"Where's Johnnie Green?" Mr. Crow asked.
"Oh! He's in the hayfield, too, riding on the hayrake," Rusty Wren
explained.
"I'll come with you, then," Mr. Crow croaked.
So they flew to the dooryard. And they hadn't waited there long
when the strange bird sang his "Cuckoo! cuckoo!"
"There!" said Rusty. "That's his silly song!"
And to his surprise Mr. Crow haw-hawed right out.
"What's the joke?" Rusty Wren wanted to know.
"That's not a bird----" said old Mr. Crow--"or, at least, it's not
a _real_ bird. He's made of wood. And he lives inside a cuckoo
clock."
"Ah!" Rusty cried. "An alarm clock!"
But old Mr. Crow shook his head.
"No!" he replied. "It's just an everyday clock. And, instead of
striking, it lets this little wooden bird come out and sing."
Rusty Wren said that he wouldn't care for a clock like that and
that he didn't see why Farmer Green had brought it home, anyhow.
"Cuckoo clocks amuse the women and children," Mr. Crow remarked
wisely.
"Then you think Farmer Green was not dissatisfied with my singing?
You think he would like me to wake him every morning, just as I
used to?" Rusty waited eagerly for Mr. Crow's opinion.
Old Mr. Crow pondered for a while before answering. He reflected
that since it was long past corn-planting time, it really made no
difference to him whether Farmer Green overslept or not. If the
corn had just been put in the ground, he would have liked to have
Farmer Green stay in bed all day long.
"I understand that the whole family enjoys your songs," Mr. Crow
told Rusty at last. "And for the present you may as well sing your
dawn song right here in your own tree, beneath Farmer Green's
window. But if you're living here next spring, I wish you would
consult me again."
Rusty Wren agreed to that, thanking Mr. Crow for his kindness, too.
And, afterward, instead of being angry, he laughed whenever he
heard that silly "Cuckoo! cuckoo!" Since he knew it was only a
wooden bird, Rusty Wren was jealous no longer.
The next morning he awakened Farmer Green at the break o' day. And
the hired man was so sleepy that he fell downstairs and couldn't
work for a whole week.
VII
A NEAT HOUSEKEEPER
Rusty Wren's wife was a very neat housekeeper. Every day she
carefully cleaned her house, chirping while she worked. Sometimes
her voice was sweet and pleasant. But at other times--though it was
still sweet--it was not pleasant at all. And whenever Rusty heard
that second kind of chirp he was always careful to find some errand
that took him away from home.
You see, Rusty Wren was not so orderly as his wife. Often he
scattered things about the house in a very careless fashion.
For instance, if he happened to notice a bit of moss--or a
burr--clinging to his coat, just as likely as not he would brush it
off and let it fall upon the floor. And when Mrs. Rusty found
anything like that in her cottage, she always knew how it came
there.
Rusty sometimes remarked that it was a good thing he didn't smoke.
"How would you like it if I dropped bits of tobacco, or ashes, and
maybe burnt matches for you to pick up?" he asked his wife.
"You couldn't come inside my house if you used tobacco," she always
replied. And she would get quite excited at the mere thought of
such an untidy habit.
And then Rusty would smile--but he always took good care not to let
his wife see him.
"Don't worry!" he would say, if she became too stirred up. "I've
never smoked yet--and I never expect to."
One can see that Rusty Wren was somewhat of a tease. And as it
usually happens with people who amuse themselves at the expense of
others, there came a time when Rusty's teasing landed him in
trouble.
One day after he had come home from an excursion to the pasture (he
seldom strayed so far from home as that!), Mrs. Rusty began
sniffing the air. Her nose would have wrinkled--only it couldn't,
because it was so hard. She looked at her husband suspiciously. And
it seemed to her that he had a guilty manner.
"I declare," she said, "I believe you've been smoking." And she
started to scold so angrily that Rusty Wren knew she must be in a
temper.
Seeing signs of trouble, Rusty began to fidget. And he moved about
so uneasily that his wife was all the surer of his guilt. She
stopped right in the middle of her scolding to say, "I smell
smoke!"
"Perhaps you do," Rusty admitted. "But it's certainly not tobacco
smoke."
"Ah!" she exclaimed. "Then you've been smoking corn-silk, or
hayseed--and that's almost as bad."
But Rusty said that it must be the smoke of a pine stump that she
noticed.
"Farmer Green is burning some old stumps in the pasture," he
explained. "And I flew through a cloud of it."
Just then he happened to notice a bit of something or other
clinging to one of his tail feathers. And though his wife was
looking straight at him, he flicked the tiny scrap upon the floor,
without thinking what he was doing.
"There you go again!" Mrs. Rusty Wren cried. "Here I've just
finished cleaning the house and you're littering it all up! You
don't care how much work you make for me." And she pounced upon the
brownish bit, intending to pick it up and throw it out of the
house.
Rusty had already decided that he had better go away from home for
a little while, until things were pleasanter, when his wife
suddenly faced about and fixed him with her glittering eyes.
"Ha!" she cried, holding up the scrap in her bill for him to see.
"Tobacco!" she screamed. "And what, pray, have you to say to me
now?"
VIII
RUSTY IN TROUBLE
Rusty Wren edged toward the door--that little opening in the syrup
can, only slightly bigger than a twenty-five-cent piece. He wished
he was already safely through it, for he did not like the look in
his wife's eyes.
"I must be going now," he said faintly--though he was generally as
bold as brass.
"Wait a moment!" Mrs. Rusty ordered. "Where did this tobacco come
from?" She spoke somewhat thickly, for she still held the bit of
brown leaf in her bill.
"I can't imagine," he stammered. "I never knew it was sticking to
my tail until I saw it and brushed it off----"
"On my clean floor!" his wife interrupted. "Goodness knows it's bad
enough to have you forever doing things like that without your
bringing _tobacco_ into my clean house--and without smelling of
smoke, too."
For almost the first time in his life Rusty Wren was really
worried. Somehow, he had managed to get into something a good deal
like a scrape. It seemed to him that the house was terribly hot and
stuffy; and always before he had thought it quite comfortable.
"I'm going out for a breath of fresh air," he protested feebly. And
before Mrs. Rusty could stop him he dodged past her and slipped
through the tiny doorway, leaving her to scold to her heart's
content.
All this happened in the middle of the morning. And the cuckoo
clock in Farmer Green's kitchen had sung the hour six times before
Rusty Wren returned.
Never before had he stayed away from his snug house so long. And,
naturally, that made him have a guilty feeling, as if he had really
done something to be ashamed of. As for smoking, he had (as he
said) never smoked in his life. It was true that Farmer Green was
burning stumps in the pasture that morning, and that the odor of
the smoke had clung to Rusty's feathers.
But the bit of tobacco that had clung to his tail was a mystery
that he couldn't explain. It was a most unfortunate accident. But
Rusty hoped that by that time--it was then the middle of the
afternoon--he hoped that his wife had recovered from her
displeasure. Usually, when they had any little difference of
opinion, she felt better if he gave her plenty of time in which to
scold. But now Rusty was not quite sure of his welcome. He had
never seen Mrs. Rusty so upset.
"Are you there, my love?" he asked softly, as he alighted on the
roof of his house. He did not care to go inside until he was quite
sure that his wife was in better spirits.
"The smoker has come home again," a peevish voice called out. And
instead of bursting into the merry song which Rusty had been all
ready to carol, he flew off across the yard and began hunting for
something to eat.
Since he couldn't very well go home, he thought that he might as
well enjoy a good meal, at least.
IX
ALL'S WELL AGAIN
After Rusty Wren had revived his drooping spirits by eating
heartily of three dozen insects of different kinds and sizes, he
felt so cheerful that he couldn't help trilling a few songs. It was
almost evening; and he was glad not to let the sun go down without
thanking him in that way for shining so brightly all day.
Though it was so late, Farmer Green still toiled in the fields; but
Rusty could hear Johnnie and old dog Spot driving the cows down the
lane towards the barn.
Now, above the wide door of the carriage house a window was open--a
window through which Rusty had flown early in the morning. Unlike
old Mr. Crow, Rusty Wren was not in the least afraid to enter any
of the farm buildings. Perhaps if Rusty had been in the habit of
taking Farmer Green's corn he would have thought twice before he
ventured inside the cow barn or the carriage house. But since he
never damaged the crops, and always helped them by destroying a
great number of insects that ate all sorts of growing things, Rusty
had nothing whatever to fear from anybody in the farmhouse--except
the cat, of course.
There was really no reason for Rusty's flying through the open
window, beyond the fact that he liked to prowl around the great,
dusty room under the eaves, to see what he could find. Once he was
inside, he noticed something that had not caught his eye on his
former visit. Hanging from a rafter, where the slanting rays of
the setting sun fell squarely upon it, was a big bunch of brown
tobacco leaves.
Rusty Wren gave a chirp of pleasure at the sight. That was where he
must have picked up the bit of tobacco that had clung to his tail
feathers and upset his wife's good nature.
"I'll go right home and get her and bring her here so she can see
this tobacco herself!" he said aloud. "Then she'll know where that
shred came from which fell on the floor." He did not say "which I
brushed onto the floor," for he never could remember long that he
ever did such careless things.
Well, Rusty Wren went out of the window a good deal faster than he
had flown in. And, in less time than it takes to tell it, he was
perched on top of his house again and calling to his wife.
"I know now where the tobacco came from!" he sang out. "Just come
outside and I'll show you. It's upstairs in the carriage house!"
To his delight, Mrs. Rusty answered in the sweetest tone
imaginable. But she said she didn't want to come out just then. And
she didn't seem a bit interested in tobacco any more.
"You come right into the house!" she cried. "There's something here
that I want to show you."
Rusty Wren whisked through the hole in the maple syrup can. Home
had never looked quite so good to him before, for he had not been
there since the middle of the morning.
"What is it?" he asked eagerly.
His wife was sitting on their nest. And there was nothing new in
the house, so far as he could see.
She moved aside then. "Look!" she said.
And, peering into the nest, Rusty saw a speckled egg there. It was
really a small egg. But to Rusty Wren's eyes it seemed decidedly
big.
He was so surprised that he couldn't speak for as much as two
seconds. And then he began to sing--he was so happy.
Though Mrs. Rusty kept very still, she seemed much pleased. And,
strange to say, she never mentioned _smoking_ to her husband again.
She had something more important to think about.
X
BAD NEWS
When Johnnie Green fastened the tin can to the tree in the dooryard
he couldn't have picked out a better spot for it. Of course, he
hoped that a pair of wrens would build their nest inside the syrup
can. But what he never dreamed was that the cherry tree was exactly
the sort of tree that wrens liked.
It was not that Rusty and his wife cared for cherries. But as soon
as Mrs. Wren had said how much she liked her new house, she
remarked that the old cherry tree was a fine place to hunt for bugs
and insects.
"Yes!" Rusty agreed. "And there's an ant hill near the foot of the
tree. It will be very convenient on stormy days, for we shall not
have to go far for our breakfast."
Not being fond of cherries, they did not look forward to the time
when the bright red fruit should hang gaily upon the branches above
their home. But there were others--besides Johnnie Green--who
eagerly awaited that time and noticed that the old tree was loaded
with blossoms, which meant that later there would be plenty of
cherries.
Jolly Robin was one of those who had a taste for cherries, no
matter whether they grew wild in the woods or within easy reach in
Farmer Green's yard. And as soon as cherry time arrived Jolly was
on hand every day to enjoy the treat.
He was so cheerful and good-natured that Rusty Wren and his wife
did not object to Jolly's visits--so long as he did not venture too
near their house. They always scolded loudly when an outsider came
too close to their home, for they had a big family of children, and
they couldn't help feeling that the youngsters were safer with no
prying busybodies to meddle with them.
Of course, Jolly Robin never once thought of harming any of Rusty's
family. And as soon as he saw that Rusty--and especially his
wife--wanted him to keep away from their side of the tree, he took
care to respect their wishes.
Then all was peaceful. And the three had many pleasant chats
together.
At last, however, Jolly Robin made a remark one day that threw both
Rusty and his wife into a flutter of alarm. Jolly Robin had not
meant to frighten them. But the news was out before he realized
that it was far from welcome to his two little listeners.
"Jasper Jay has heard about these cherries," he announced. "And he
says he's coming over here as soon as he can find time, for he is
specially fond of all kinds of cherries, no matter whether they're
red cherries or black cherries or choke cherries."
Rusty Wren glanced quickly at his wife.
He could easily see that Jolly Robin's speech had upset her. And,
to tell the truth, he did not himself relish the prospect of a
visit from anybody as boisterous and quarrelsome as that famous
bully, Jasper Jay.
"Can't you prevent his coming?" Rusty asked Jolly Robin.
But Jolly Robin shook his head.
"When Jasper Jay makes up his mind, I know of no way to make him
change it," he said.
XI
THE NOISE ON THE ROOF
As soon as she heard that Jasper Jay intended to visit her cherry
tree, to enjoy the ripe fruit, Rusty Wren's wife began to worry.
And she made herself so unhappy that Rusty couldn't help wishing
that Jolly Robin had kept his news to himself.
"Don't be alarmed!" he said to her, after Jolly had gone. "Jasper
Jay can't harm the children, for they'll be safe in the nest. And
luckily our doorway is too small for him."
But Mrs. Rusty wouldn't be calmed.
"He's a great, cruel bully," she replied. "And if he spends much
time here I'm afraid the children will starve, for neither you nor
I will be able to go out and find food for them, because Jasper
would be sure to pounce on us; and what chance would we have
against him?"
"We'll go together," said Rusty Wren, looking very brave.
But Mrs. Wren said she wouldn't think of leaving her six small
children all alone in the house.
"Everything will be all right," Rusty assured her. "You know Jasper
isn't coming unless he can _find the time_. Jolly Robin said so.
And maybe he won't be able to get here at all."
They had gone inside their house to talk over the matter in
private. And Rusty had hardly finished speaking when a loud bang,
followed by a clatter, sounded on the tin roof above their heads.
It was no wonder that they both jumped.
"Goodness!" exclaimed Rusty's wife. "What's that?"
But Rusty couldn't tell her. During all the weeks they had lived
there he had heard nothing like that.
While they listened the noise was repeated. And Mrs. Rusty declared
that the sky must be falling, for she had never heard such a
dreadful sound in all her life.
"I'll go right out and see what it is," Rusty Wren said.
But his wife caught hold of his coat-tails and begged him to stay
with her.
"No! no!" she cried. "You must not stir out of the house. I'd be
terribly worried if you left me alone here with these six small
children. And you might get hurt, besides."
Meanwhile the racket on the roof continued, with only a short pause
between each outburst. The six Wren children began to cry--for they
were hungry as well as frightened. And all the time Mrs. Rusty
clung to her husband's coat-tails and besought him not to leave
her.
To tell the truth, he had no such intention. Though he was very
brave for his size, he was thoroughly alarmed. And for the time
being he was quite content to stay inside his snug house and hope
that the trouble would soon come to an end.
* * * * *
On the whole, the Wren family spent a very unpleasant quarter of an
hour. The _bang, clatter, bang_ on their roof still continued until
the din became almost unbearable. And Rusty Wren grew so desperate
that he had almost made up his mind to break away from his wife,
even if he had to leave his coat-tails behind him, and dash out of
doors to see what was the matter.
Then all at once a different sound fell upon their ears. And as
soon as they heard it they knew at once that the sky was not
falling, anyhow.
"_Jay! jay!_" Jasper Jay's harsh voice was unmistakable. He had
been playing one of his sly tricks on the Wren family; and they had
never guessed that it was he!
XII
THE UNWELCOME VISITOR
"It's Jasper Jay!" Rusty Wren cried, as soon as he and his wife
heard the hoarse cry outside their house. "He's playing one of his
tricks on us. And I'm going out and tell him exactly what I think
of him."
"Don't forget to tell him what I think of him, too!" Mrs. Rusty
said, as she let go of her husband's coat-tails.
Then Rusty hurried through the little doorway. And there was
Jasper, sitting on a limb above the house, with a cherry in his
bill, which he let fall with a sly smile.
The cherry struck the roof of Rusty's house with a loud _bang_! And
then came the same _clatter_, to which the Wren family had been
listening.
"Here! Stop that!" Rusty cried.
Jasper Jay shrieked with laughter.
"Go away!" said Rusty.
"Go away yourself!" retorted Jasper.
"This is my home," Rusty Wren told him hotly. "And you've no right
to come here and frighten my wife and children like this."
"How shall I frighten them, then?" Jasper Jay asked him. "Perhaps
you like this way better!" he shouted. And with that he flew
straight at Rusty Wren. He was so big and he looked so cruel that
Rusty turned tail and dashed back into his house again. And he was
glad that his doorway was not much bigger than a twenty-five-cent
piece, because he knew that Jasper Jay could never squeeze through
so small an opening.
Jasper alighted on top of the house and jumped up and down on the
roof, striking it with his bill and screaming angrily.
"Don't be afraid!" Rusty said to his wife. "He can't do any harm.
And after a while he'll grow tired of staying here and he'll go
away."
Well, Rusty was half right, at least. For Jasper Jay went away at
last; but he didn't wait until he had grown weary of his rowdyish
sport.
Now, Johnnie Green happened to hear Jasper's harsh cries. And,
looking out of the window, he saw Jasper's strange performance.
"That blue jay is teasing my little wrens!" Johnnie Green cried
indignantly. And, catching up a potato from the kitchen table, he
hurried to the door and hurled it as hard as he could at the
blue-coated trouble-maker.
The potato missed Jasper Jay by less than an inch, bringing up
_kerplunk!_ against the trunk of the old cherry tree, and breaking
into several pieces.
And then it was Jasper Jay's turn to be alarmed. He jumped off the
roof of Rusty Wren's house as if he had been shot and dashed off as
fast as his handsome wings could carry him. He knew of no way to
tease Johnnie Green; so there was really no sense in his staying in
Farmer Green's yard any longer.
Johnnie jeered at Jasper as the frightened bully hurried away.
"You'd better not come skulking around here again!" he shouted.
Although the cherries hung red and juicy upon the old tree for at
least a week longer, just begging to be picked--as one might
say--Jasper Jay did not come back to enjoy them. He told Jolly
Robin that he was entirely too busy to waste his time in an old
cherry tree.
XIII
BOY WANTED!
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 and rest," he urged her. "I'll
find enough for the children to eat--and for you too," he said
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
into somebody'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 to cause trouble, somehow.
So that is how Rusty Wren came to hang a sign outside his door,
which said:
BOY WANTED
XIV
TOO MANY CALLERS
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 expected to 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
squeeze through 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 see what 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 to change her
mind for her.
Things were growing worse and worse. The children were all
_cheeping_ for food, until Rusty Wren could hardly endure the
noise.
And he, too, felt painfully hungry.
XV
MR. CHIPPY'S SON
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--not
_he_--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 to work at daybreak.
That polite young man touched his cap again, promised that he would
return without fail, and then went _chip-chipping_ away 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.