remained right where it is for over a year? Do you suppose
that if I had thought there was the least bit of danger that it would
blow down, I would have used it? Do credit me with a little sense, my
dear."

"Yes'm, I do," replied Whitefoot meekly. "You are the most sensible
person in all the Great World. I wasn't finding fault. You see, I have
always lived in a hole in the ground or a hollow stump, or a hole in
a tree, and I have not yet become used to a home that moves about and
rocks as this one does when the wind blows. But if you say it is all
right, why of course it is all right. Probably I will get used to it
after awhile."

Whitefoot did get used to it. After living in it for a few days, it no
longer seemed strange, and he no longer minded its swaying when the wind
blew. The fact is, he rather enjoyed it. So Whitefoot and Mrs. Whitefoot
settled down to enjoy their new home. Now and then they added a bit to
it here and there.

Somehow Whitefoot felt unusually safe, safer than he had ever felt in
any of his other homes. You see, he had seen several feathered folk
alight close to it and not give it a second look. He knew that they
had seen that home, but had mistaken it for what it had once been, the
deserted home of one of their own number.

Whitefoot had chuckled. He had chuckled long and heartily. "If they make
that mistake," said he to himself, "everybody else is likely to make it.
That home of ours is right in plain sight, yet I do believe it is safer
than the best hidden home I ever had before. Shadow the Weasel never
will think of climbing up this little tree to look at an old nest, and
Shadow is the one I am most afraid of."

It was only a day or two later that Buster Bear happened along that way.
Now Buster is very fond of tender Wood Mouse. More than once Whitefoot
had had a narrow escape from Buster's big claws as they tore open an old
stump or dug into the ground after him. He saw Buster glance up at the
new home without the slightest interest in those shrewd little eyes of
his. Then Buster shuffled on to roll over an old log and lick up the
ants he found under it. Again Whitefoot chuckled. "Yes, sir," said he.
"It is the safest home I 've ever had."

So Whitefoot and little Mrs. Whitefoot were very happy in the home
which they had built, and for once in his life Whitefoot did very little
worrying. Life seemed more beautiful than it had ever been before. And
he almost forgot that there was such a