"I can fix that," said Aunt Polly. And then she went into her house,
returning presently with a basket. From the basket she drew forth a
handful of herbs, which she gave to Mr. Crow.

"Take these," she said, "and put them in your right-hand pocket. These
are what you may eat--a sample of each herb."

Straightway she gave Mr. Crow two more handfuls of food.

"And here," she continued, "here are things you mustn't eat. Put them in
your left-hand pocket. And at dinner time to-night you won't have the
least bit of trouble knowing what you're allowed to have."

Mr. Crow thanked her politely. But he felt somewhat angry, just the same.
He saw that he was going to have a very unpleasant time. For if there was
one thing that Mr. Crow liked, it was good food--and plenty of it.




VII

MR. CROW'S BAD MEMORY


It was true, as Mr. Crow had said, that he had a bad memory. By the time
he reached home he had forgotten almost everything the famous doctor,
Aunt Polly Woodchuck, had said to him. About all Mr. Crow could recall of
their talk was that Aunt Polly had told him his swollen foot was caused