Here a leaf and there a twig,
Piece of twine to bind them—
Then some moss to spread across,
Till it’s hard to find them.
Soon the tiny Treetop House
Will be built and ready;
Dry beneath the pelting rain,
Against the wind quite steady.
[AN OLD CROW’S NEST]
Now Featherhead had a much harder time finding a home than Brother Twinkle Tail. He traveled from the oaks to the beech trees, jumping from branch to branch, peeping first into this place and then into that, but every hole and hollow had a tenant.
By and by he ran down to the ground and along the winding paths through the leaves and brush, but even then he could find nothing. No, sir. There didn’t seem to be a single place in the whole big forest for this little squirrel.
“Goodness me!” he exclaimed, “what shall I do? I don’t want to go back to Nutcracker Lodge and tell them I can’t look out for myself. I’d feel like a baby.” So he sat down to think it over.
All of a sudden who should come by but Jimmy Crow.
“What’s the matter? You look dreadfully worried.”
“And so I am,” replied the little squirrel. “And so would you be if you couldn’t find a home for yourself.”