no longer happy.

"Those are the things I like best--the last that you mentioned," he said.
"And the food you tell me I may have is exactly the kind I've never cared
for in the least. As for catnip tea, I can't swallow it!" he groaned.
"Haven't you some other remedy? Can't you give me a pill?"

But Aunt Polly Woodehuck said there was no other way.

"I never can remember what you've told me," Mr. Crow objected.

"I can fix that," said Aunt Polly. And then she went into her house,
returning presently with a basket. From the basket she drew forth a
handful of herbs, which she gave to Mr. Crow.

"Take these," she said, "and put them in your right-hand pocket. These
are what you may eat--a sample of each herb."

Straightway she gave Mr. Crow two more handfuls of food.

"And here," she continued, "here are things you mustn't eat. Put them in
your left-hand pocket. And at dinner time to-night you won't have the
least bit of trouble knowing what you're allowed to have."

Mr. Crow thanked her politely. But he felt somewhat angry, just the same.
He saw that he was going to have a very unpleasant time. For if there was
one thing that Mr. Crow liked, it was good food--and plenty of it.

VII

MR. CROW'S BAD MEMORY

It was true, as Mr. Crow had said, that he had a bad memory. By the time
he reached home he had forgotten almost everything the famous doctor,
Aunt Polly Woodchuck, had said to him. About all Mr. Crow could recall of
their talk was that Aunt Polly had told him his swollen foot was caused
by gout; and that she had given him samples of such food as he might eat,
and also such as he mightn't.

He had put the two kinds in different pockets, just as Aunt Polly had
suggested. And all he had to do when he was hungry was to look into his
pockets and see what food he might safely choose for his meal. Well, Mr.
Crow was hungry as a bear by the time he reached his house. And the
first thing he did was to feel in his left-hand pocket. He drew forth a
kernel of corn.

"Good!" he cried. "That's exactly what I'd like for my dinner. And if
Farmer Green hadn't tarred his corn before planting it I know exactly
where I'd go." Then he thought deeply for a few minutes. "I'll go over
to the corn-crib and see if I can't find some corn on the ground!" he
exclaimed a little later. While he was thinking he ate the sample of
corn, without once noticing what he did.

So Mr. Crow flew swiftly to the farm-yard. It happened tha