"Why not?" he demanded. "What's the matter with my house?"
"I'll tell you," Benny replied. "It's a second-hand one. And that's bad enough. But it would be still worse if I took it away from you, because then it would be third-hand."
The owl looked daggers at him.
"You've insulted me!" he cried loudly, swelling himself up—or so it seemed.
"Have I?" Benny Badger inquired. "Don't mention it! I'm sure you're quite welcome." To tell the truth, he had not the least idea what the owl meant.
Naturally, Benny's words only made the owl angrier than ever. And he became actually rude.
"If I were you," he spluttered, "until I learned better manners I would dig a hole somewhere, crawl inside it, and pull it in after me."
Now, that was a new idea—for Benny Badger. And he liked it.
"What fun that would be!" he exclaimed. "Then when I wanted to go out I'd have to dig my way again!"
The owl gave a queer cry. And looking quite discouraged, he flew off and left Benny Badger sitting there in the grass.