class="pnext">Reddy Woodpecker cocked an eye toward the roof of the barn.

"That tin—" he said—"you can't take it with you when you move. It belongs to Farmer Green."

"Oh!" Mr. Flicker exclaimed. "I thought it belonged to you. And I knew you wouldn't object to your cousin's borrowing it for the rest of the season—now would you?"

But Reddy Woodpecker wasn't going to answer any dangerous questions. "The tin is Farmer Green's," he declared.

It seemed as if Mr. Flicker were full of alarming thoughts.

"I wish," he said, "we'd have a cyclone that would rip that tin off the barn and carry it up to the pasture."

"Oh, my goodness!" cried Reddy Woodpecker. And he worried dreadfully all the rest of that day. There's no knowing when he would have stopped fretting had Mr. Flicker not made a certain report to him the following morning.

"The Woodchuck brothers don't want me to drum for them," he announced.

"Then you aren't going to move!" cried Reddy.

"No!" Mr. Flicker replied. "And I don't intend there shall be any cyclone, either."

So at last Reddy Woodpecker felt better.

VII

THE TWO NEIGHBORS

While Reddy Woodpecker and his cousin were getting acquainted their wives became quite friendly. Living as they did, each in an old apple tree at the lower end of the orchard, they often met. And since their doorways were almost opposite each other Mrs. Woodpecker and Mrs. Flicker didn't even have to leave their homes to enjoy a neighborly chat.

If one of them had something specially interesting to say, all she had to do was to stick her head out of the hole in the trunk of her tree and call. And if the other happened to be at home it was never more than a second before her head popped forth from her doorway. It was all very simple and most convenient.

Everything was pleasant until one day something happened. Something changed the friendly feelings between the two ladies. When Reddy Woodpecker peered out of his doorway one morning Mrs. Flicker called to him, "Good morning, my dear!"

He was so surprised he didn't know what to say.

But Mrs. Woodpecker knew what to say. It chanced that she was clinging to a limb above their home, so screened by some leaves that Mrs. Flicker couldn't see her. She quickly made known her presence. And she said so much that Mrs. Flicker soon withdrew her head. She hadn't answered Mrs. Woodpecker. Indeed she had had no opportunity; for Mrs. Woodpecker talked fast and furiously.

"It's no wonder she hides!" Mrs. Woodpecker spluttered. "I'd like to know what she means by calling my husband her 'dear!'"

Well, Reddy Woodpecker felt just as uncomfortable as Mrs. Flicker must have felt. But he didn't hide. He didn't dare to hide.

"What had you said to her?" Mrs. Woodpecker demanded.

"Honestly," Reddy replied, "I hadn't said a word. I had just stuck my head out. And the first thing I knew Mrs. Flicker called to me. You heard what she said."

"I certainly did!" was his wife's grim response. "It was a very queer way for her to speak to you."

"It was nothing—" Reddy assured her—"nothing at all. She made a mistake."

"She certainly did!" cried Mrs. Woodpecker. "She didn't know I was right here where I could hear her. She should have been more careful. That's where she made a serious blunder."

"Oh, my goodness!" said Reddy. "I didn't mean that. It wasn't that sort of mistake. It was this sort: Mrs. Flicker——"

"Don't mention her name to me again!" shrilled Mrs. Woodpecker.

"Well, how can I talk about her, then?" Reddy asked his wife.

"If you feel that you must talk about her," said Mrs. Woodpecker, "call her 'she.'"

"All right! She made this mistake: She thought she was talking to you."

Mrs. Woodpecker laughed bitterly at that.

"You'll have hard work making me believe it," she told her husband.

"Well, you ask her if it isn't the truth," Reddy urged.

"I will!" his wife promised. "Don't worry! I'll ask her.... And now," she added, "you'd better go and find some breakfast for the children. We can get along without any early tattoo this morning."

He went.

VIII

AN EARLY CALL

Mrs. Woodpecker flew to her neighbor Mrs. Flicker's tree and rapped, tap-tap-tap-tap. She didn't rap gently, either. She was not in a gentle mood. She intended to find out why Mrs. Flicker had called to Reddy Woodpecker, "Good morning, my dear!"

Mrs. Flicker promptly stuck her head out of her door.

"My husband is not at home," she said. And then she vanished.

"Well, the very idea! What a remark to make to me!" cried Mrs. Woodpecker. "As if I'd call on a gentleman!" Being angrier than ever, she rapped harder than before.

Again Mrs. Flicker peered out. Again she spoke.

"Did you wish to leave a message, Mr. Woodpecker?" she inquired.

"I'm not Mr. Woodpecker! I'm Mrs. Woodpecker!" shrieked the caller.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! My! My! My!" exclaimed Mrs. Flicker, who was greatly astonished. "I beg your pardon! Excuse me! It's my mistake."

"It certainly isn't mine," said Mrs. Reddy Woodpecker. "It seems to me you're making a good many mistakes this morning, madam."

Mrs. Flicker looked very unhappy. She wasn't used to being called 'madam.' She could see that Mrs. Woodpecker was furious. She wanted to be friends with Mrs. Woodpecker.

"You and Mr. Woodpecker look very much alike," Mrs. Flicker said to her angry caller. "When one of you peeps out of your house it's hard to tell who's who. Just now when I came to my doorway I could see only your head. And I thought it was your husband. When I spoke to your husband a few minutes ago I thought it was you."

Mrs. Woodpecker stared at her neighbor for a few moments. Somehow she thought Mrs. Flicker must be telling the truth.

"It's your red caps, I think," Mrs. Flicker went on. "They make you look like twins."

"Dear me!" said Mrs. Woodpecker. "I hadn't thought of that. What can we do?" Her anger had suddenly left her.

"My husband and I have things nicely arranged," Mrs. Flicker told her