want to _tell_ you something."

"Oh!" said Sandy. "That's different. What is it?"

"It's quite a joke," Mr. Crow said. And he laughed loudly. "These young
fellows here have been trying to tell one another why you're called
Sandy. One of 'em says it's because you like to dig in the sandy soil;
and another says it's because of your color; and still another claims
it's because you're plucky. But I tell 'em it's because your real name is
Alexander. And of course I'm right," said old Mr. Crow.

Sandy Chipmunk smiled. And then he started off again. And again Mr. Crow
stopped him.

"Quite a joke on these youngsters--isn't it?" he inquired.

"You told me you didn't want to _ask_ me anything," Sandy Chipmunk
reminded him. "But I will say this--though I am in a great hurry: So far
as I know, you are all of you right. And that's a joke on you, Mr. Crow."

Then Sandy Chipmunk scampered off. And everybody laughed--except Mr.
Crow.

"Alexander Chipmunk is a very pert young man," he grumbled.




II