the morning. And perhaps he might have overslept now and then had he not had a never-failing alarm clock to arouse him.

It was not one of those man-made clocks, which go off with a deafening clatter and bring a startled body to his feet before he is really awake. No! Farmer Green had something much pleasanter than that; and it was not in his bedroom, either.

His alarm clock was in his dooryard, for it was Rusty Wren himself who always warned him that day was breaking and that it was time to get up and go to work.

Every morning, without fail, Rusty sang his dawn song right under Farmer Green’s window. His musical trill, sounding very much like the brook that rippled its way down the side of Blue Mountain, always made Farmer Green feel glad that another day had come.

“If that busy little chap is up——” he often said, meaning Rusty Wren, of course—“if he’s up there’s no reason why I should lie here and sleep.”

And since everybody else in the house followed Farmer Green’s custom of rising early, it happened that so small a bird as Rusty Wren aroused the whole household out of their beds.

To be sure, Johnnie Green—sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily—sometimes wished that Rusty would skip his dawn song once in a while. And he told his father at breakfast one day that since he was not a bird, he saw no reason why he should get up with the sun.

“You needn’t,” said Farmer Green. “But you know the old saying about ‘early to bed and early to rise,’ don’t you?”

Johnnie remembered that such habits were supposed to make one “healthy, wealthy and wise.” And since he hated to take medicine, and was trying to save enough money to buy him a gun, and disliked to be kept in after school for not knowing his lessons, he decided that perhaps it was just as well, after all, to follow Rusty Wren’s example.

Now, Farmer Green spoke so often and so pleasantly of Rusty Wren, saying that nobody could want a better little alarm clock than he, that Rusty began to take a great deal of pride in his morning task of awakening the household. It could hardly be called a task, however, because Rusty thoroughly enjoyed singing, though when he sang—as when he did anything else—he put every ounce of his strength into the effort. With his head lifted as high as his short neck would permit, and his tail (which usually stuck pertly upwards) drooping downward, as if he had for the moment forgotten it, he poured forth his music with such fervor that his small body actually trembled.

You see, Rusty Wren never did things by halves. When he did anything he was never satisfied with less than his best.

And that was another reason why Farmer Green liked him.

IV

RUSTY IS JEALOUS

Before Rusty Wren came to live in Farmer Green’s dooryard the family had been known to oversleep now and then. Working hard all day long as everybody did (except Johnnie Green, who played hard enough—goodness knows!), they slept very soundly at night. And two or three times every summer they were sure to rise late, just by accident.

Though such a mishap always annoyed Farmer Green, it never troubled either the hired man or Johnnie in the least. On the contrary, they seemed to enjoy those occasions. But with Rusty Wren to rouse them at dawn all that was changed. And Farmer Green remarked one day that one thing was certain; they would lose no time that summer by staying in bed too long.

That very afternoon he had to go to the village. And when he came home he brought several surprises with him.

Those surprises pleased Johnnie and his mother so much that when he went to bed that night Farmer Green felt even happier than was usual with him. He went to bed somewhat early because he said he had more work than ever to do the next day, on account of his having gone to the village.

But happy as he was that night, the following morning Farmer Green was quite out of sorts. For the whole family overslept. Not a soul awaked until the sun had been up at least an hour.

“I don’t understand——” Farmer Green said at the breakfast table—“I don’t understand why I failed to hear that wren this morning. I must have been unusually sleepy.”

The hired man helped himself to some more griddle-cakes and remarked that it was a pity. But somehow he did not look sorry, in spite of what he said.

“We’ll go to bed early to-night,” Farmer Green continued, “so we’ll be sure to wake up before sunrise.”

And, strange to say, the next morning the very same accident happened again.

“I don’t see what’s come over me,” said Farmer Green. “I don’t hear that wren singing right under my window any more. I thought that maybe the cat had caught him. But there he is this very moment, on that limb!”

Everybody said it certainly was odd, for the wren always sang as soon as it began to grow light.

Well, that night Farmer Green went to bed before dark, declaring that he must be up bright and early in the morning.

“I wish that new clock I brought home day before yesterday was an alarm clock,” he said. “Then I wouldn’t have to worry about waking up on time.... Anyhow, I ought to hear the wren again to-morrow morning.”

But Farmer Green hoped in vain. Though the cat had not caught Rusty, and he had not moved away, either, he no longer sang beneath Farmer Green’s window at dawn.

For three mornings he had gone to the orchard to trill his dawn song; and though they did not know the reason, that was why the Green family rose late for three mornings running.

Once Rusty Wren had been proud to be called Farmer Green’s alarm clock. But now something had happened that made him resolve to stop waking the household.

It was all on account of one of those surprises that Farmer Green had brought home from the village. For without intending to do any such thing, Farmer Green had surprised Rusty Wren as well as Johnnie and his mother.

Now, a surprise may be one of two kinds—pleasant or unpleasant. And, strangely enough, the very thing that delighted the Green family sent Rusty Wren into a spasm of jealous rage.

Of course, it was very silly of him to lose his temper. But he was too upset to stop to think of that.

V

THE NEW BIRD

Farmer Green had not been home long, after his trip to the village, when Rusty Wren heard a sound that for once made him keep quite still for at least five seconds.

“Cuckoo! cuckoo!” The cry came from inside the farmhouse. And since the windows were wide open, Rusty could easily hear it from the tree near-by, where he lived.

“There’s a new bird in there!” Rusty Wren exclaimed to himself as soon as the sound reached his ears. He listened intently. But the call was not repeated.

“Farmer Green is not satisfied with my singing!” Rusty cried. And thereupon he flew into such a rage that when his wife came home, a few minutes later, she was actually frightened.

“What in the world is the matter?” she asked her husband anxiously.

“Matter?” cried Rusty Wren. “Here I’ve sung my best for Farmer Green all summer, and waked him at dawn every morning without fail! And what do you suppose he’s