thing strange about that, because Mr. Crow was always
losing his temper. And his neighbors had long since learned not to pay
much heed to his scolding. They knew that loud talk never really hurt
any one. And generally Mr. Crow forgot a grievance quickly, because he
was sure to get angry with somebody else.

There was one matter upon which Mr. Crow was especially touchy. That was
corn. If anybody talked about corn-robbers, or even said much about
corn as a food, Mr. Crow always lost his temper. And if anybody showed
much liking for corn, or meddled in the cornfield, then old Mr. Crow
would get so angry that he couldn't speak a pleasant word for days and
days.

And now he was enraged because he had reason to believe that Grandfather
Mole was eating the corn that Farmer Green had planted.

"He's eating it out of the hills," Mr. Crow told his neighbors.

"Farmer Green sometimes places scarecrows in the cornfield," Jimmy
Rabbit remarked. "So why wouldn't it be a good idea to get him to set up
a few scaremoles?"

"That wouldn't help any," Mr. Crow said gloomily. Usually the merest
mention of a scarecrow sent him into a rage. But now he was too angry
with Grandfather Mole to pick a quarrel with any one else. "Grandfather
Mole couldn't see a scaremole if he ran head first into it," Mr. Crow
continued. "And besides, even if he had eyes to see with, he's working
underground. Grandfather Mole has dug galleries that run under the
cornfield. And he can get right inside a hill of corn and gobble the
seed corn without being seen."

"Then how do you know what Grandfather Mole is doing, when you can't see
him?" Jimmy Rabbit inquired.

"The corn isn't coming up as it should," Mr. Crow told him. "So I
scratched open a hill myself, to find out what was the matter."

"You didn't find Grandfather Mole, did you?" Jimmy Rabbit cried.

"No!" said Mr. Crow. "And I found no corn, either. But there was one of
Grandfather Mole's galleries leading up to the center of the hill. So
it's easy to guess where the corn goes."

Since news always travels fast in Pleasant Valley and tales such as Mr.
Crow told spread more rapidly than any other, it wasn't long before Mrs.
Robin repeated Mr. Crow's remarks in Grandfather Mole's hearing.

"What's that?" he called. "Please say that again!"

"Old Mr. Crow claims that you are eating Farmer Green's seed corn out of
the hills," Mrs. Robin said. And she had the grace to grow somewhat red
in the face, b