one day reddy woodpecker was tap, tap, tapping on a tall poplar that grew beside the brook. he had discovered a tiny opening in the bark and he wanted to see what was at the further end of it.

suddenly a voice called out, "well, well, well! what is it?" and a pale-faced person not unlike buster bumblebee peered out at reddy woodpecker. he was careful to keep safely out of reach of reddy's horny tongue. "i hope," said the dweller in the poplar, "you're not wanting me to build you a house. i can't work for you just now. i'm very busy to-day, making an addition to my own house."

reddy stared at the speaker.

"i've already built my house—with my wife's help," he replied. "why should you think i needed your assistance?"

"because," said the other, "i'm whiteface, the carpenter bee. the neighbors are always pestering me to help them."

then reddy woodpecker noticed that whiteface was covered with sawdust. but before he could examine him very closely the carpenter vanished.

"i must have another look at that queer person," reddy thought. so he began to rap once more.

again the carpenter peeped forth.

"if you're out of work," he said, "i'll tell you plainly that you can't find it here. i never employ strangers to work for me, for i'm very particular." then he was gone.

tap, tap, tap! this time, when the carpenter answered reddy's knocking, he was most impatient.

"go away!" he cried. "you're shaking my whole house. i don't like it."

"not so fast!" said reddy woodpecker. "i'm only making a friendly call. you and i are neighbors. but how am i ever going to get acquainted with you if you won't stop for a short chat?"

"i can't stand here idling my time away," the carpenter replied. "i'm a busy bee. come inside if you want to see me!" and he disappeared again.

how could reddy woodpecker accept his invitation to enter? the carpenter's doorway was too small for him. and the wood was not the sort that reddy liked to chisel away with his bill. it wasn't brittle enough to suit him. so he knocked again.

when the carpenter came rushing back to his doorway his pale face wore an anxious look.

"oh!" he said. "i thought it was a fire. i thought somebody wanted to tell me my house was on fire. but it's only you. what do you want now?"

"i know you'd like to learn my name," reddy woodpecker began.

"just leave your card!" the carpenter told him. "i'll look at it later when i have more time."

"when will that be?" reddy demanded.

"i don't know," the odd person confessed. "it seems as if i never would get my house finished."

"then," said reddy, "there can't be any use in my leaving my card. probably when you found time to look at it you wouldn't remember who left it."

"probably not!" the carpenter admitted. "good day, sir!" and he dodged out of sight.

still reddy woodpecker was not discouraged. he knocked a fifth time.

"what!" exclaimed the carpenter when he answered reddy's tapping. "haven't you gone yet?"

"no!" reddy replied. "i want to say——"

"if you have anything more to tell me, write me a letter!" said the pale-faced carpenter. and he set up a sign where reddy woodpecker could see it: "this is my busy day!" then he passed from view.

reddy woodpecker stayed a long time at the poplar tree beside the brook. he knocked and knocked and knocked until at last his head began to ache. but the sawdust-covered carpenter never showed his pale face again.