too. He had
better forget them and resume his search for a home. So he gave
his plump little cinnamon-colored body a shake and held his tail at
even a higher angle than usual, just to show people that he was
going to be the head of the house--when they should have one. Then
with a flirt of his short, round wings he hurried over to Farmer
Green's dooryard--after calling to his wife that he would come back
and tell her if he had any luck.

Rusty Wren spent some busy moments about Farmer Green's buildings.
And since he loved to be busy and was never so happy as when he had
something important to do, he hopped and climbed and fluttered to
his heart's content, looking into a hundred different holes and
cracks and crannies.

But he didn't find a single one that suited him. Every place into
which he peered was either too big or too little, or too high or
too low; or it was where the rain would beat upon it; or maybe it
was so situated that the cat could thrust her paw inside. Anyhow,
every possible nook for a nest had some drawback. And Rusty was
wondering what he could say to his wife, who was sure to be upset
if her plans went wrong, when all at once he came upon the finest
place for a house that he had ever seen. One quick look through the
small round opening that led to it was enough.

He knew right away that his search was ended. So he hurried back to
the orchard to find Mrs. Rusty and tell her the good news.

"I've found the best spot for a house in all Pleasant Valley!" he
cried, as he dropped down beside her and hopped about in his
excitement.

"Is it in a good neighborhood?" she inquired calmly.

"Yes, indeed!" he replied. "It's in a tree close to Farmer Green's
bedroom window."

"A hole in a tree!" she exclaimed somewhat doubtfully. "Not an old
squirrel's nest, I hope?"

"No, no!" he assured her. "It's not really _in_ a tree. It's nailed
to a tree. Come with me and I'll show you."

At that the bustling little pair hastened toward the farmhouse.
And, to Rusty's delight, the moment his wife saw what he had found
she said at once that it was exactly the sort of house she had
always hoped to have, some time.

II

JOHNNIE GREEN'S IDEA

It happened that just before Rusty Wren and his wife came to
Pleasant Valley to look for a home, Johnnie Green had an idea.

He found the idea in the weekly paper which the letter-carrier left
each Friday in the mail box at the crossroads. On the Children's
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