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Crow chose to do his hunting afoot. He was too wise to waste any effort looking for mice when the grass was high. But after haying he had often gone a-mousing in years past. And he had found the sport to be quite worth while.
"What's your hurry?" he cried. "I've been waiting around here for you for a long while. Can't you spend a few moments of your valuable time with me!" Now, it was true that the old gentleman had been lingering in the neighborhood. The corn wasn't quite ripe enough to suit him. So he had decided to go a-mousing that morning. His way of hunting, however, was not like that of other birds. Mr.
"If I find her I'll fix her." Jennie Junebug heard everything he said. She was lying hidden in the grass near-by. And she wouldn't have come out for anything. "I'll keep an eye out for her," Solomon Owl announced. "I come to the meadow often, a-mousing." Jennie Junebug kept still as a mouse, herself, until Solomon had gone back to the woods.
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