It was several days before Mr. Crow stopped sulking. He was very angry
with Farmer Green for placing the giant in the cornfield. And he told his
friends that he had about made up his mind he would move to some other
neighborhood.

"Farmer Green will be sorry after I'm gone," he remarked. "He'll miss me
when he finds that his crops are being eaten by mildreds of insects."
Whether he meant _millions_ or _hundreds_ it would be hard to say. You
see, Mr. Crow was not good at arithmetic. He always had trouble counting
higher than ten.

And then, the very day before he had planned to move, Mr. Crow noticed
something that made him change his mind. He was sitting in the top of a
tall pine, looking mournfully across the cornfield, where he dared not
go, when he saw a small bird drop down upon the giant's head and
disappear.

"He's eaten her!" Mr. Crow exclaimed. But as he stared, the little bird
appeared again and flew away.

Old Mr. Crow knew it was a mother wren; and he was not long in
discovering that she had built a nest under the tin pan that the giant
wore in place of a hat!

That was enough for Mr. Crow. The secret was out! The thing he had feared
was nothing worse than a straw scarecrow, with a stick stuck over its
shoulder to look like a gun.

The old gentleman felt quite foolish for a time. But he did not let that
fact prevent his scratching up enough corn to make up for the meals he