In his joy at finding it Chummy confided to me that the object of his journey was to find old King Crow and talk over Squirrie’s case with him.
“And who is King Crow?” I asked.
“He rules over all the crows in this middle part of Toronto, and in the North. He is very wise and has a great deal of influence. We sparrows hate the grackles, but like the crows, who often are of great assistance to us.”
“Chummy,” I said, “I feel badly at bringing this on Squirrie.”
“You are sincere in wishing Squirrie well, are you not?”
“Oh, yes, from the bottom of my heart I wish him to become a good squirrel.”
“And you didn’t succeed in making an impression on him. Now, why not hand him over to some one who has influence over him?”
“Very well,” I said sadly. “I suppose I had no business to interfere, but I meant well.”
Chummy smiled. “I have often heard that before. You see, Dicky-Dick, if all the kind birds and animals in this neighborhood who have tried to help Squirrie reform could not do it, how could you, a little weak stranger, coming in, hope to succeed?”
“That’s true,” I said. “Well, Chummy, I hope you will have a successful fly. You have a wise little head on your small sparrow shoulders.”