during his first summer in pleasant valley master meadow mouse had often noticed old mr. crow flying from the woods to the cornfield. once in a while mr. crow dropped down into the meadow on some business or other. but master meadow mouse did not fear him. the grass was high in the meadow, screening the goings and comings of master meadow mouse from prying eyes.

but after haying time the meadow was a different place. there was no cover over master meadow mouse's paths. he had to be watchful all the time, because henry hawk had an unpleasant habit of sailing high up in the sky and dropping down like lightning when he saw anybody like master meadow mouse stirring.

old mr. crow continued to journey daily between the cornfield and the woods. but master meadow mouse paid little heed to him. he believed mr. crow to be harmless, so long as he didn't catch small folk in the cornfield. the old gentleman was very touchy about corn. he flew into a rage when anybody but himself ate even one kernel.

though master meadow mouse would have liked a taste of corn as much as anybody else, he was careful to keep away from the cornfield in the daytime. he didn't wish to bring down mr. crow's wrath upon his small head.

"never let mr. crow catch you taking any corn!" mrs. meadow mouse had told her son during one of the daily lessons that she gave him. "if you must have corn, wait until after sunset. mr. crow goes to bed early."

now, it happened that just before haying time mrs. meadow mouse had stopped giving her son lessons. she said that she had told him everything she knew. she had told him everything at least a hundred times. and she declared that if he hadn't learned what he needed to know, he never would.

mrs. meadow mouse, however, had forgotten one thing—one very important thing. there was a little trick of old mr. crow's that she had never mentioned to her son.

so it wasn't his fault that he was caught unawares one day, soon after farmer green cut the grass in the meadow.

master meadow mouse was tripping homewards one day, after a little excursion. he was traveling fast, for he felt, amidst the short stubble, as if all the world were watching him. and he kept a sharp eye cocked upwards at the sky, lest henry hawk should surprise him. besides, he had heard the boom of a bittern that morning. and the day before he had seen a butcher-bird skimming low over the meadow.

those two, he knew, were every bit as dangerous as henry hawk.

you see, master meadow mouse had learned to expect birds to descend upon him from the air. it had never occurred to him that a bird would lurk on the ground, in wait for him. so he had a sudden fright, almost at his doorway, when he ran plump upon a big black person standing behind a knoll.

it was old mr. crow. and master meadow mouse thought he had an odd glitter in his snapping eyes.

"i—i haven't been taking any corn," master meadow mouse stammered.