replied. “But I like the scheme so well that I almost 20 wish I hadn’t mentioned it. And unless you make your bargain with old Mr. Crow at once I may decide to go into the laughing business myself.... My advice to you,” he said, “is to hurry!”

So Jolly Robin thanked him. And then he flew away to find old Mr. Crow.

Of course, he went to the cornfield first.

Sure enough! old Mr. Crow was in the cornfield. And though he was feeling somewhat peevish that morning, because a coon had disturbed his rest the night before, he listened to what Jolly Robin had to say.

“I’ve come to ask you a question,” Jolly told him. “I’ve decided to go into business—the laughing business. And I want to inquire if you wouldn’t like to engage me to do your laughing for you.”

Well, that struck old Mr. Crow as being very funny. He forgot all about his loss of sleep. And his eye twinkled quite 22 merrily. He tried to laugh, too; but it was a pitiful attempt—no more than a hoarse cackle, which was, as Jimmy Rabbit had said, positively painful. Old Mr. Crow seemed to realize that he was making a very queer sound. He hastily turned his laugh into a cough and pretended that he had a kernel of corn stuck in his throat.

“What are your prices?” he asked Jolly Robin. “Are you going to charge by the day or by the laugh?”

“Just as you prefer!” Jolly answered.

“Well, I’ll have to think about it,” old Mr. Crow told him. “It’s a question that I wouldn’t care to decide in a hurry. If I paid you by the day you might not laugh at all. And if I paid you by the laugh you might laugh all the time.... It would be pretty expensive, either way. And I don’t believe I’d like that.” 23

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Jolly Robin then. “I’ll stay with you one day for nothing. And we’ll see how the arrangement suits us.”

That suggestion pleased Mr. Crow.

“Agreed!” he said quickly. “And now,” he added, “you may laugh for me, because I am quite delighted.”

So Jolly Robin laughed happily. And old Mr. Crow remarked that it was a fair laugh, though not so loud as he would have liked.

“I’ll do better next time,” Jolly assured him.

“Good!” said Mr. Crow. “And now, since I’ve finished my breakfast, we’ll go over to the woods and see what’s going on there this morning.”

The first person they saw in the woods was Peter Mink. He was fishing for trout 24 in Broad Brook. And old Mr. Crow, as soon as he spied him, sang out:

“How many of Farmer Green’s fish have you eaten this morning?”

Peter Mink was just crawling out of the water, with a fish in his mouth. When he heard Mr. Crow calling to him, he dropped his trout upon a rock and looked up quickly.

“How much of Farmer Green’s corn have you stolen for your breakfast?” he cried.

At that Jolly Robin began to laugh. But Mr. Crow stopped him quickly.

“Don’t laugh!” the old gentleman squawked. “There’s nothing to laugh at, so far as I can see.”

So Jolly managed to smother his laughter, for he noticed that Mr. Crow was angry.

“You’ll have to be careful,” Mr. Crow 25 warned him. “You mustn’t laugh at the wrong time, you know.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jolly Robin promised. And he could see already that old Mr. Crow was going to be hard to please.

Old Mr. Crow did not want to stay near the brook to talk with Peter Mink. Calling to Jolly Robin to follow him, he flapped his way to the edge of the woods and sat in a tree overlooking the pasture.

“Here comes Tommy Fox!” Mr. Crow exclaimed. “We ought to have some fun with him. So when it’s time for you to laugh for me, don’t forget to laugh loudly.”

“I’ll remember,” Jolly promised him. And just by way of practice he chirruped so merrily that Tommy Fox pricked up his ears and came bounding up to the tree 27 where Jolly and Mr. Crow were sitting.

“Good morning!” Mr. Crow cried to Tommy. “Is that a hen’s feather that’s stuck behind your ear?” he asked very solemnly.

“No!” said Tommy Fox. “It’s a crow’s; and I certainly had a fine breakfast.”

Now, Jolly Robin wasn’t quite sure whether he ought to laugh or not. And then Tommy winked at him. So Jolly thought there must be a joke somewhere and he began to chirrup as loudly as he could.

“For pity’s sake, keep still!” old Mr. Crow snapped.

“But you wanted me to laugh louder,” Jolly reminded him.

“Yes,” said Mr. Crow—“when there’s anything to laugh at.”

“But didn’t Tommy Fox make a joke?” Jolly Robin asked. 28

“A very poor one!” old Mr. Crow replied. “A very poor joke, indeed!... I see,” he added, “I see you’ve not had much experience laughing for people. And here’s where you make a mistake. You laugh at other people’s jokes, which is all wrong. After this you must laugh at my jokes—do you understand?”

Jolly Robin said he understood. And Mr. Crow remarked that he was glad there would be no more trouble.

“And now,” the old fellow said, “now we’ll go over to the swamp, where Uncle Sammy Coon lives. We ought to have some fun with him.”

So over to the swamp they flew, where they found Uncle Sammy Coon sunning himself in the top of a tall hemlock.

“How-dy-do!” said Mr. Crow.

But Uncle Sammy Coon did not answer.

“We’re in luck!” Mr. Crow said with 29 a chuckle. “I declare, I believe the old beggar’s asleep. Just watch me play a practical joke on him!”

So Mr. Crow lighted on a branch near Uncle Sammy Coon and began tickling his nose.

Pretty soon Uncle Sammy Coon sneezed. And when that happened, Mr. Crow jumped back quickly. But Uncle Sammy didn’t awake—at least, he didn’t open his eyes. So Mr. Crow tickled his nose again.

Now, old Mr. Crow was so amused that he glanced at Jolly Robin, to see if he was watching. And in that instant when Mr. Crow looked away, Uncle Sammy Coon leaped at him. He caught Mr. Crow by the tail, too.

The old gentleman set up a great din. He squawked, “Help! help!” at the top of his voice and flapped his broad wings. 30

The struggle was over in a moment. By a great effort Mr. Crow broke away, leaving one of his tail-feathers with Uncle Sammy Coon, and flew into another tree near-by.

Then Jolly Robin laughed as if he would never stop. He thought that it must be the proper time to laugh, because Mr. Crow had said he was going to play a joke on Uncle Sammy.

Mr. Crow, however, seemed to think differently about the matter.

“Do keep quiet!” he cried. “There’s nothing to laugh at, so far as I can see.”

“But you said you were going to play a joke on Uncle Sammy Coon, didn’t you?” Jolly inquired.

“Yes!” Mr. Crow replied. “But it’s no joke to lose a tail-feather. And I wouldn’t think of laughing at what just happened.... Besides,” he continued, 31 “your laughter is