a minute she had to stop and take breath. She was going to alight on
the ground, when she remembered the rat. Yes, there he was. So she
had to take refuge once more on the hated and treacherous scarecrow.
But no sooner had she done so, alighting with open beak and
half-spread, quivering wings, than the rat came darting up the leg of
the scarecrow's ragged trousers and pounced at her. She _just_
escaped, and that was all, leaping into the air with a squawk of terror
and flapping there violently at the end of those six feet of free cord.

"It was a horrifying position for her, let me tell you--"

"I guess _so_!" muttered the Babe in spite of himself, wagging his head
sympathetically. He did not like rats.

"She was too frightened to save her strength, of course, and so kept
flapping with all her might, as if she thought to fly away with
scarecrow and all. The rat, however, was impatient. He clutched at
the cord with his handlike claws and began trying to pull the imp down
to him. At first he couldn't make much out of it, but as the imp
weakened with her frantic efforts the cord began to shorten. Just
about now the He imp, who had come down from the locust top and
fluttered over the scene in pained curiosity, realized what was
happening. He was game, all right, however bumptious and
self-satisfied. He set up a tremendous _ca-a-a-ing_, as a signal for
all the crows within hearing to come to the rescue, and then made a
sudden, savage side swoop at the foe.

"Taken thoroughly by surprise, the rat was toppled from his unsteady
perch and fell among the strawberries. His head ringing from the
stroke of that sturdy black wing, his plump flank smarting and bleeding