"It seems to me that hollow stub of mine is ever so much
better than this. That has good solid walls, and we won't have to
do a thing to it."
"I told you once before that it doesn't suit me for summer," replied
little Mrs. Whitefoot rather sharply, because she was beginning to
lose patience. "It will be all right for winter, but winter is a
long way off. It may suit you for summer, but it doesn't suit me,
and this place does. So this is where we are going to live."
"Certainly, my dear. Certainly," replied Whitefoot very meekly.
"If you want to live here, here we will live. But I must confess it
isn't clear to me yet how we are going to make a decent home out of
this old nest."
"Don't you worry about that," replied Mrs. Whitefoot. "You can get
the material, and I'll attend to the rest. Let us waste no time
about it. I am anxious to get our home finished and to feel a
little bit settled. I have already planned just what has got to be
done and how we will do it. Now you go look for some nice soft, dry
weed stalks and strips of soft bark, and moss and any other soft, tough
material that you can find.
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