not let that
fact prevent his scratching up enough corn to make up for the meals he
had lost.

After that he quickly recovered his spirits. And he forgot all about
moving.

But if Mr. Crow felt merry, you may be sure that Farmer Green did not.
It was his turn to feel foolish. And he vowed that he would get even with
Mr. Crow, if it took him all summer.

Meanwhile, Mr. Crow grew careless. He really thought that Farmer Green
wouldn't be able to think of any other way of keeping him out of the
cornfield. And he spent so much of his time there that he grew quite fat.
He became somewhat short-breathed, too. And his voice grew wheezier than
ever. But Mr. Crow did not mind those things. He was getting all the corn
he could eat. And he was happy.

Then there came a morning at last, as he soared down upon the cornfield,
when he noticed that the huge scarecrow was gone. There was another--a
shorter--figure in its place. But to careless Mr. Crow's glance it
seemed no different from the scarecrows he had known all his life. He
paid little or no attention to the image. It wore the big pan upon its
head--he observed that much. And it made him laugh.

Then Mr. Crow began to scratch for his breakfast. But he had not eaten a
single kernel when a terrible roar broke the early morning stillness. And
there was a sound as of hail falling all around him.

Mr. Crow knew right away what had happened. The scarecrow had come to
life and tried to shoot him! And if ever a bird hurried away from that
field, it was old Mr. Crow.

It was almost night before he remembered that he had had nothing to eat
all day. And so anybody can see how frightened he was....

Farmer Green walked home to his own breakfast with his gun resting upon
his shoulder.

"I didn't get him," he told Johnnie. "But I must have scared him out of a
year's growth."

V

A GREAT DISAPPOINTMENT

After Farmer Green came so near shooting him, Mr. Crow lost his taste for
corn for a whole year. He was afraid it would never come back to him. And
he worried so much that he grew quite thin and his feathers began to look
rusty. His friends were somewhat alarmed about his health, many of them
saying that if they were in Mr. Crow's place they would be careful.

Now, strange as it may seem, that was exactly Mr. Crow's trouble. He was
too careful! He was always on the lookout for a gun, or a trap. And being
constantly on guard was bad for his nerves.

Luckily, a winter