"You don't mean to say that you were smart enough to fool Farmer Brown's boy and get out of that stout little prison he made for you, do you?" asked Tommy Tit.
"No," replied Chatterer, almost before he thought. "No, I didn't. The fact is, Tommy Tit, he left the door open purposely. He let me go. Farmer Brown's boy isn't half so bad as some people think."
"Dee, dee, dee," laughed Tommy Tit. "I've been telling a lot of you fellows that for a long time, but none of you would believe me. Now I guess you know it. Why, I'm not the least bit afraid of Farmer Brown's boy—not the least little bit in the world. If all the little forest and meadow people would only trust him, instead of running away from him, he would be the very best friend we have."
"Perhaps so," replied Chatterer doubtfully. "He was very good to me while I was in his prison, and—and I'm not so very much afraid of him now. Just the same, I don't mean to let him get hands on me again."
"Pooh!" said Tommy Tit. "Pooh! I'd just as soon eat out of his hand."
"That's all very well for you to say, when you are flying around free, but I don't believe you dare go up to his house and prove it," retorted Chatterer.
"Can't now," replied Tommy. "I've got too much to do for him right now, but some day I'll show you. Dee, dee, dee, chickadee! I'm wasting my time talking when there is such a lot to be done. I am clearing his apple-trees of insect eggs."
"Ha, ha, ha! Go it, you little red scamp!" shouted a voice behind him.
Then Chatterer knew that Farmer Brown's boy had not left the little door open by mistake, but had given him his freedom, and right then he knew that they were going to be the best of friends.