Coon's name.

It was old Mr. Crow who mentioned it first.

"I'll have to tell Fatty Coon about this queer house," he chuckled. "It's too good a joke to keep. He'll be over here as soon as he knows where to come, for he'll be glad to see it; and he wants to talk to Dickie Deer Mouse about taking our corn."

Dickie had still felt somewhat sleepy during the first part of this talk outside his house. But when Mr. Crow began to speak about Fatty Coon, Dickie became instantly wide awake. He sprang quickly to his feet; and thrusting his head through his doorway, he called in his loudest tone:

"When do you think Fatty Coon will call on me?"

The two cousins looked at each other. And then they looked all around.

"What was that strange squeaking?" Mr. Crow asked Jasper Jay.

"To me it sounded a good deal like a rusty hinge on Farmer Green's barn door," Jasper Jay answered.

But Mr. Crow shook his head. "It couldn't have been that," he said.

"Maybe Mrs. Green is rocking on a loose board on the porch," Jasper suggested.

Still Mr. Crow couldn't agree with him.

"Don't be silly!" he snapped. "We're half a mile from the farmhouse."

"Well, what do you think the noise was?" Jasper Jay inquired.

Old Mr. Crow cocked an eye upward into the tree-top above him. "I'd think it was a Squirrel if it was louder," he replied. Jasper Jay laughed in a most disagreeable fashion.

"I'd think it was thunder if it was loud enough," he sneered.

And at that the two cousins began to quarrel violently. To tell the truth, they never could be together long without having a dispute.

For a short time Dickie Deer Mouse listened to their rude remarks, hoping that they would stop wrangling long enough to hear his question about Fatty Coon.

But they talked louder and louder. And since Dickie Deer Mouse never quarreled with anybody, and hated to hear such language as the two cousins used, he slipped out of his house without their seeing him and went over to the cornfield.

For he was hungry.

In one way, especially, Fatty Coon and Dickie Deer Mouse were alike: They were night-prowlers. When they slept it was usually broad daylight outside, and the birds—except for a few odd fellows like Willie Whip-poor-will and Mr. Night Hawk—were abroad, and singing, and twittering. And when most of the birds went to sleep Dickie and Fatty Coon began to feel quite wide awake.

It was not strange, therefore, that Dickie Deer Mouse was surprised when he found himself face to face with Fatty Coon in the cornfield at midday.

Dickie tried to slip out of sight under a pumpkin vine that grew between the rows; but Fatty Coon saw him before he could hide. And Fatty began to make the queerest noise, as if he were almost choking.

Dickie Deer Mouse stopped. And he trembled the least bit; for Fatty looked terribly fierce. Perhaps (Dickie thought) he was choking with rage.

"Can I help you?" Dickie asked him. "Would you like me to thump you on the back?"

Fatty Coon shook his head. There was nothing the matter with him, except that he had stuffed his mouth so full that he couldn't speak. After swallowing several times he wiped his mouth on the back of his paw—a habit of which his mother had never been able to break him. It was no wonder that dainty Dickie Deer Mouse shuddered again, when Fatty did that.

"May I go and get you a napkin?" Dickie asked, as he edged away.

"No!" Fatty Coon growled. "I've been wanting to have a talk with you. And now that I've found you, you needn't run off."

Then, to Dickie's horror, Fatty stopped talking and licked both his paws.

"May I get you a finger bowl?" Dickie inquired.

Fatty Coon actually didn't know what he meant.

"Is that something to eat?" he asked. And he looked much interested, and seemed quite downcast when Dickie said "No!"

"Then you needn't trouble yourself," Fatty Coon told him with a sigh.

"Can't you find corn enough for a good meal?" Dickie asked him wonderingly.

"I could," said Fatty Coon, "if other people didn't take so much of it.... Now, there's Mr. Crow," he complained. "I had to get out of bed and come over here to-day, in the sunlight, because I was afraid he wouldn't leave any corn for me.

"There's no use saying anything to him," Fatty continued, "because he thinks this is his cornfield.... But little chaps like you will have to keep away from this place.... Now I've warned you," he added. "And if I hear of your eating any more corn I'll come straight to your house—when I find out where it is—and I'll——"

He did not finish his threat. But he looked so darkly at Dickie that what he didn't say made Dickie Deer Mouse shiver all over, though the warm midday sun fell upon the cornfield.

Now, Dickie Deer Mouse hadn't eaten a single kernel of corn all that day. But he suddenly lost his appetite for it; and murmuring a faint good-bye he turned and ran for the woods as fast as he could go.

"Stop! Stop!" Fatty Coon called after him. "There's something more I want to say to you."

But whatever it may have been, Dickie Deer Mouse did not wait to hear it.

The moment he plunged into the woods beyond the cornfield Dickie Deer Mouse began to feel better. He knew that Fatty Coon would not leave that place of plenty until he had filled himself almost to bursting with tender young corn.

After Dickie had eaten a few seeds that he found under the trees, as well as a plump bug that was hiding beneath a log, he actually told himself that he was glad he had met Fatty Coon in the cornfield.

"Now that he has talked with me," Dickie reasoned, "he won't trouble himself to come to my house when old Mr. Crow tells him where I live."

That thought was a great comfort to him. Ever since he had waked up and heard Mr. Crow and Jasper Jay talking outside his house he had felt most uneasy. If Mr. Crow was going to guide Fatty Coon to his new home, Dickie hardly thought it safe to stay there any longer.

But now he was sure that that danger was past. Fatty had given him his warning. And Dickie had no doubt that so long as he kept away from the corn his greedy neighbor would never bother to disturb him.

So instead of quitting his snug home—as he had feared he must—he went back to it to finish his nap.

Now, Dickie Deer Mouse had lost so much