And sure enough! as soon as Buster reached the edge of the cornfield, there was the old gentleman, sitting on the topmost rail of the fence and looking as if he had just enjoyed an excellent meal.
As soon as he saw that Buster Bumblebee wanted to talk with him, old Mr. Crow was willing enough to listen, for he always liked to know about other people's affairs. He kept nodding his head with a wise air while Buster explained to him how he wished to find some cotton, with which to stuff his ears every night, so that he might not be disturbed when the trumpeter aroused the household at three or four o'clock each morning.
"That's a splendid plan," said old Mr. Crow when Buster had finished. "An excellent plan—but you may as well forget it, because there's no cotton growing in these parts. Cotton grows in the South, more than a thousand miles away. Next winter when I go to the South I might be able to find some for you, and bring it back with me in the spring. But that wouldn't help you now."
Buster Bumblebee was quite discouraged. And since he didn't know what to do, he asked Mr. Crow what he would suggest.
"Why don't you set back the hands of the family clock?" the old gentleman asked. "If you make the clock three or four hours slow the trumpeter won't trumpet until six or seven or eight o'clock. And I'm sure that's late enough for anybody to get up."
Buster shook his head mournfully.
"We haven't any clock at our house," he explained.
"Then——" said old Mr. Crow, "then, if you want more sleep why don't you go to bed earlier? If you went to bed three or four hours before sunset you wouldn't mind getting up at dawn."
"Hurrah!" Buster shouted. "That's just what I'll do! And I'm certainly much obliged to you, Mr. Crow, for helping me."
"Don't mention it," said the old gentleman, looking greatly pleased with himself.