Crow," he was satisfied.
Of course, that was when he was younger. As the years passed he became
known as "old Mr. Crow." But no one called him that except behind his
back. And since he knew nothing of that, it never annoyed him in the
least.
Now, Mr. Crow had spent a good many pleasant seasons in Pleasant Valley.
And nobody had ever found out much about him. But at last there came a
day when he was very much upset. He was roaming through the woods on a
sunny afternoon when someone called to him.
He stopped. And presently a person in a bright blue coat came hurrying
up. It was a noisy fellow known as Jasper Jay, who was new in the
neighborhood.
"I thought I recognized you," he shouted to Mr. Crow. "As soon as I saw
you fly past I said to myself, 'That looks like Cousin--'"
Mr. Crow stopped him just in time. It was true that the two were cousins.
One look at their big feet and their big bills would have told you that.
Now, Mr. Crow sometimes saw Jasper on the trips he made each fall and
spring. And Jasper knew Mr. Crow's name. He had almost said it, too, at
the top of his boisterous voice.
"What's the matter?" Jasper Jay inquired, for Mr. Crow was looking all
around.
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