At first old Mr. Crow could scarcely believe his eyes. He stared and
stared. Certainly it was no 'possum that he saw. And yet the stranger
was hanging by his tail.

There could be no doubt about that. Even as Mr. Crow watched him he
waved both hands at Mr. Crow, and swung by his tail alone.

The old gentleman was terribly upset. During all the summers he had
spent in Pleasant Valley he had never seen any such person there
before.

For a moment Mr. Crow was worried about himself. He wondered if he was
not ill. He knew he had eaten a good deal of corn that day. And he
half hoped that that was the trouble--that perhaps he saw something
that wasn't really in the tree at all.

Then he remembered the blow on his back. Had the queer person in the
tree-top struck him?... Mr. Crow grew angry.

"Did you hit me?" he called.

"I'm not sure," said the stranger. "But I _think_ I did, for I saw you
jump."

"Then you threw something at me!" Mr. Crow screamed.

"Oh, no!" the other replied. "I didn't throw anything at you, sir. I
merely dropped something on your back."