"Caw, caw!" sounded the old rascals again. But the crows were far away. The three happy children could see them way up in the old chestnut tree over on the edge of their neighbour's wood.
In the fork of two high branches was a great round nest—oh ever so much bigger than the thrush's and the oriole's. It was a crow's nest. Sailors often call the little turret built around the mast, where they stand and look out over the sea, a "crow's nest." It looks something like that.
But Mr. Jim Crow's chums didn't come near the cornfield that day.
At night, when they were ready for bed, Jehosophat said to Marmaduke:
"I wonder if old Mr. Scarecrow is out there now."
"Course he is," his brother assured him.
"Let's see!"
So they jumped out of bed and, in their white nightgowns, tiptoed over the floor to the window. The Old-Man-in-the-Moon was up. He looked as round and fat as a pumpkin in the sky.
He winked at them.
The Old-Man-in-the-Moon made it very bright so that they could see.