The very first of the little meadow and forest people to see Chatterer after he had safely reached the Old Orchard¹, was Tommy Tit the Chickadee. It just happened that Tommy was very busy in the very apple-tree in which was the old home of Drummer the Woodpecker when Chatterer reached it. You know Chatterer had moved into it for the winter just a little while before he had been caught in the corn-crib by Farmer Brown's boy.

 

Yes, Sir, Tommy was very busy, indeed. He was so busy that, sharp as his bright little eyes are, he had not [Pg 105]seen Chatterer racing² along the snow-covered old stone wall. It wasn't until he heard Chatterer's claws on the trunk of the apple-tree that Tommy saw him at all. Then he was so surprised that he lost his balance and almost turned a somersault in the air before he caught another twig³. You see, he knew all about Chatterer and how he had been kept a prisoner by Farmer Brown's boy.

 

"Why! Whye-e! Is this really you, Chatterer?" he exclaimed. "However did you get out of your prison? I'm glad, ever and ever so glad, that you got away."

 

Chatterer flirted⁴ his tail in the saucy⁵ way he has, and his eyes twinkled. Here was just the best chance ever to boast and brag⁶. He could tell Tommy Tit how smart he had been—smart enough to get away from Farmer [Pg 106]Brown's boy. Tommy Tit would tell the other little people, and then everybody would think him just as smart as Unc' Billy Possum; and you know Unc' Billy really was smart enough to get away from Farmer Brown's boy after being caught. Everybody knew that he had been a prisoner, and now that he was free, everybody would believe whatever he told them about how he got away. Was there ever such a chance to make his friends and neighbors say: "What a smart fellow he is!"

 

"I—I—" Chatterer stopped. Then he began again. "You see, it was this way: I—I—" Somehow, Chatterer couldn't say what he had meant to say. It seemed as if Tommy Tit's bright, merry eyes were looking right into his head and heart and could see his very thoughts. Of course they couldn't. [Pg 107]The truth is that little small voice inside, which Chatterer had so often refused to listen to when he was

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