"
"Yes'm, I do," replied Whitefoot meekly. "You are the most sensible
person in all the Great World. I wasn't finding fault. You see, I
have always lived in a hole in the ground or a hollow stump, or a
hole in a tree, and I have not yet become used to a home that moves
about and rocks as this one does when the wind blows. But if you
say it is all right, why of course it is all right. Probably I will
get used to it after awhile."
Whitefoot did get used to it. After living in it for a few days, it
no longer seemed strange, and he no longer minded its swaying when
the wind blew. The fact is, he rather enjoyed it. So Whitefoot and
Mrs. Whitefoot settled down to enjoy their new home. Now and then
they added a bit to it here and there.
Somehow Whitefoot felt unusually safe, safer than he had ever felt
in any of his other homes. You see, he had seen several feathered
folk alight close to it and not give it a second look. He knew that
they had seen that home, but had mistaken it for what it had once
been, the deserted home of one of their own number.
Whitefoot had chuckled.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96