hey 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