had lost.

After that he quickly recovered his spirits. And he forgot all about
moving.

But if Mr. Crow felt merry, you may be sure that Farmer Green did not.
It was his turn to feel foolish. And he vowed that he would get even with
Mr. Crow, if it took him all summer.

Meanwhile, Mr. Crow grew careless. He really thought that Farmer Green
wouldn't be able to think of any other way of keeping him out of the
cornfield. And he spent so much of his time there that he grew quite fat.
He became somewhat short-breathed, too. And his voice grew wheezier than
ever. But Mr. Crow did not mind those things. He was getting all the corn
he could eat. And he was happy.

Then there came a morning at last, as he soared down upon the cornfield,
when he noticed that the huge scarecrow was gone. There was another--a
shorter--figure in its place. But to careless Mr. Crow's glance it
seemed no different from the scarecrows he had known all his life. He
paid little or no attention to the image. It wore the big pan upon its
head--he observed that much. And it made him laugh.

Then Mr. Crow began to scratch for his breakfast. But he had not eaten a
single kernel when a terrible roar broke the early morning stillness. And
there was a sound as of hail falling all around him.

Mr. Crow knew right away what had happened. The scarecrow had come to
life and tried to shoot him! And if ever a bird hurried away from that
field, it was old Mr. Crow.