With love there you will ne'er forsake it.
- Whitefoot.
Whitefoot climbed up to the old nest of Melody the Wood Thrush over
the edge of which little Mrs. Whitefoot was looking down at him.
It took Whitefoot hardly a moment to get up there, for the nest was
only a few feet above the ground in a young tree, and you know
Whitefoot is a very good climber.
He found Mrs. Whitefoot very much excited. She was delighted with
that old nest and she showed it. For his part, Whitefoot couldn't
see anything but a deserted old house of no use to any one. To be
sure, it had been a very good home in its time. It had been made of
tiny twigs, stalks of old weeds, leaves, little fine roots and mud.
It was still quite solid, and was firmly fixed in a crotch of the
young tree. But Whitefoot couldn't see how it could be turned into
a home for a Mouse. He said as much.
Little Mrs. Whitefoot became more excited than ever. "You dear old
stupid," said she, "whatever is the matter with you? Don't you see
that all we need do is to put a roof on, make an entrance on the
under side, and make a soft comfortable bed inside to make it a
delightful home?"
"I don't see why we don't make a new home altogether," protested
Whitefoot.
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