He settled himself again, trying to appear as if he hadn't been
startled, when--_plump!_--something gave him a smart blow on his back.

Old Mr. Crow flopped hastily into a neighboring tree. And this time he
looked up instead of down.

At first he could see nothing unusual. And he had almost made up his
mind that something had fallen out of the sky, when a head showed
itself from behind a limb and a queer, wrinkled face peered at him.

Mr. Crow did not recognize the face. It was an odd one. In fact, he
thought he had never seen an odder. But if he thought the face a queer
one, it was not half as peculiar as the stranger's actions.

For, as Mr. Crow watched him, the stranger slipped into full view,
hanging by his tail and one hand from a limb, while with the other
hand he waved a red cap.

Old Mr. Crow's mouth fell open. For a time he said never a word.

And for him, that was quite out of the ordinary.




II

No 'Possum