o 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 t