It was almost night before he remembered that he had had nothing to eat all day. And so anybody can see how frightened he was….
Farmer Green walked home to his own breakfast with his gun resting upon his shoulder.
"I didn't get him," he told Johnnie. "But I must have scared him out of a year's growth."
V
A GREAT DISAPPOINTMENT
After Farmer Green came so near shooting him, Mr. Crow lost his taste for corn for a whole year. He was afraid it would never come back to him. And he worried so much that he grew quite thin and his feathers began to look rusty. His friends were somewhat alarmed about his health, many of them saying that if they were in Mr. Crow's place they would be careful.
Now, strange as it may seem, that was exactly Mr. Crow's trouble. He was too careful! He was always on the lookout for a gun, or a trap. And being constantly on guard was bad for his nerves.
Luckily, a winter spent in the South did a great deal to improve Mr.
Crow's health, as well as his state of mind. When he came back to
Pleasant Valley the following March he told his cousin Jasper Jay
that he really felt he would be able to eat corn again.
As the spring lengthened, that feeling grew upon Mr. Crow. And when planting-time arrived the black rascal had his old look again.
It was a very solemn look—unless you regarded him closely. But it was a very sly, knowing look if you took the pains to stare boldly into his eye.