down in Cedar Swamp.

If there was one thing that he liked in a house it was a soft bed. And he knew that if the weather happened to be chilly now and then, he could snuggle into the cat-tail down and sleep as comfortably as he pleased.

The swamp was none too near his new home; and he might have found moss or shreds of bark near-by that would have served his purpose. But he would rather have cat-tail down, even though he had to make a good many trips back and forth before he finally lined the old bird's nest to his liking.

Then, having finished his bed, he had to make a roof over it. So he covered the top of his house with moss, leaving a hole right under the eaves, for a doorway.

When Dickie's home was done he was so pleased with it that he asked all his neighbors if they didn't like his "improvements," as he called the additions he had made. And all his Deer Mouse relations told him that he certainly had a fine place.

But none of the birds cared for it at all, except Long Bill Wren; and even he remarked that the house would be better "if it was rounder."

As for Jasper Jay, he told Dickie Deer Mouse that, in his opinion, the house was ruined.

"It's nothing but a trap," he declared. "And I'd hate to go to sleep inside it."

His views, however, did not trouble Dickie Deer Mouse in the least. The place suited him. And he was so happy in it that sometimes when the weather was bad and he wasn't whisking about in the trees, or scurrying around on the ground, he would stay inside his cozy home, with only his head sticking out through the doorway, while his big, bright, bulging, black eyes took in everything that happened in his dooryard.

Dickie Deer Mouse knew that one needed sharp eyes to spy him when he was peeping from his house in that fashion. And often when somebody of whom he was really afraid came wandering through the woods, Dickie would keep quite still, while he watched the newcomer without being seen.

But with some of the wood folk he took no chances. Whenever he heard Solomon Owl's rolling call, or his cousin Simon Screecher's quavering whistle, Dickie Deer Mouse always pulled his head inside his house in a hurry.

For they were usually on the lookout for him. And he knew it.

Of course, if they had been aware that Dickie Deer Mouse was hidden inside his rebuilt, last year's bird's nest, either of them, with his sharp claws, could easily have torn the moss roof off Dickie's home. But luckily for Dickie, there were some things that they didn't know.

If old Mr. Crow had minded his own affairs everything would have gone well with Dickie Deer Mouse, after he moved into his new home. But Mr. Crow could not forget the time when Dickie had awakened him out of a sound sleep and frightened him almost out of his mind.

So whenever he caught sight of Dickie the old gentleman was sure to drop down upon the ground and ask him in a loud voice whose house he had prowled into lately.

"Nobody's!" Dickie Deer Mouse always told him. And then he would assure Mr. Crow that he was very sorry to have disturbed his rest.

It was quite like Mr. Crow, on such occasions, to act grumpy.

"I haven't had a good night's sleep since you broke into my house," he declared to Dickie one day.

"Perhaps you're over-eating," Dickie suggested politely.

Old Mr. Crow did not appear to like that remark.

"Nothing of the sort!" he bawled. "I don't eat enough to keep a mosquito alive."

"I often see you in the cornfield," Dickie Deer Mouse told him.

"Ha!" Mr. Crow exclaimed. "What are you doing in the cornfield, I should like to know?"

"Sometimes I go there to get a few kernels of corn," Dickie explained.

"Ha!" Mr. Crow cried once more. "That's where the corn's going! Farmer Green thinks I'm taking it. And so you're getting me into a peck of trouble, young man."

Dickie Deer Mouse couldn't help being worried when Mr. Crow said that. And he looked puzzled, too.

"I don't see," he said, "how I could have got you into a peck of trouble, Mr. Crow, for I haven't eaten a peck of Farmer Green's corn. I've had only a few kernels of it—not more than half a pint."

"Then you've got me into a half-pint of trouble, anyway," old Mr. Crow insisted. "And that's too much, for a person of my age. You'll have to keep away from my—ahem!—from Farmer Green's cornfield. And what's more, Fatty Coon says the same thing."

At the mention of Fatty Coon's name Dickie Deer Mouse had to smile.

"Fatty Coon!" he echoed. "How he does like corn!"

"Yes! But he doesn't like you," Mr. Crow snapped. "You'd better look out for him," he warned Dickie. "He'll come to call on you some night, the first thing you know.

"By the way, where are you living now?" Mr. Crow inquired.

But Dickie Deer Mouse made no answer. Right before Mr. Crow's sharp eyes he vanished among the roots of a tree. And it made the old gentleman quite peevish because he couldn't discover where Dickie Deer Mouse had hidden himself.

For a little while Mr. Crow stood like a black statue and peered at the tangle where Dickie Deer Mouse had disappeared. But Mr. Crow couldn't see him anywhere. And at last his patience came to an end.

"He never answered my question," Mr. Crow grumbled. "He wouldn't tell me where he lived. But I'll find out. I'll ask my cousin, Jasper Jay; for there isn't much that he doesn't know."

Of course Jasper Jay knew where Dickie Deer Mouse lived. And he took great pleasure in pointing out the exact spot to his curious cousin, old Mr. Crow.

It was broad daylight when they visited the tree where Dickie's house hung. The two rogues did not know that he was drowsing inside his snug home, because he had been out late the night before.

No one that knew the two cousins would need to be told that they could never talk together quietly. Perched close to Dickie's house, Mr. Crow croaked in a hoarse voice, while Jasper Jay squalled harshly.

"This is it!" Jasper had announced, as soon as they arrived. "This is his house. And isn't it a sight?"

"I should say so!" old Mr. Crow agreed. "It's got a roof on it—ha! ha!"

And the two visitors laughed loudly, as if they thought there was a huge joke somewhere.

They made such a noise, from the very first, that Dickie Deer Mouse awoke and heard almost everything they said. But he didn't mind their remarks in the least—until he caught Fatty