The green leafy lane or the fields are his home,
The road or the river, where'er he way roam.
He roves for a living and rests where he can.
Then bring out your kettle! ho! kettle or pan!"

There's a nice thing for you!" said the Little Red House bitterly.
"What kind of a song do you call that? Any old place is good enough
for his home, and I am just nothing!"

"Oh, that's only his way of putting it," answered the Blue-gum kindly.
"He doesn't really mean it, you know; he wants a change, that's all."

But the Little Red House wouldn't say a word.

"It looks a good deal like rain this morning, doesn't it?" said the
Blue-gum cheerfully, trying to change the subject.

But the Little Red House wouldn't say a word.

Very soon Sym and Emily Ann, carrying bundles, came out of the Little
Red House, laughing and talking; and Sym locked the door.

"Now for a jolly trip!" shouted Sym, as he picked up his firepot and
soldering-irons.

But all at once Emily Ann ceased laughing and looked back wistfully
at the Little Red House.

"After all I'm sorry to leave our little home," she said. "See how
sad it looks!"