GOOD NEWS FROM BELOW
WHEN Rusty Wren decided that Grandfather Mole had lost his bearings and that that was the reason why he was running about the garden in a most peculiar fashion, the rest of the birds began to wonder whether they oughtn't to help Grandfather Mole find them, since he was blind.
The Worm-eating Warbler, however, who was none too friendly towards Grandfather Mole, said that he had his doubts as to Grandfather Mole's blindness.
"If he can find angleworms in the dark he certainly ought to be able to find his bearings in broad daylight," he sneered.
But Rusty Wren pointed out that nobody could see bearings, anyhow--a remark that puzzled the Worm-eating Warbler more than a little. To tell the truth, he had no idea what bearings were. And at last he admitted that he didn't know.
"What are bearings, anyhow?" he asked Rusty Wren. "I don't understand what you mean."
"Oh, I mean that Grandfather Mole has lost his way," Rusty Wren explained. "He doesn't know how to get home."
The Worm-eating Warbler asked why Grandfather Mole didn't dig a new hole for himself, if he had lost the one he used when he came up in the garden. And when he saw that Rusty Wren couldn't answer his question the Worm-eating Warbler said he had his doubts as to Rusty Wren's ideas about Grandfather Mole.
"It's my opinion," he went on, "that Grandfather Mole has eaten all the worms that lived in the ground; and now he's hoping to find some in the air."
Although everybody laughed at such a notion, the Worm-eating Warbler declared that he had a right to his own belief. And when he added that he hadn't seen an angleworm for two days there were a few of his bird companions that began to think perhaps there was some reason in his remarks, after all.
But Rusty Wren declined to change his opinion.
"There's only one way to be sure; and that's to ask Grandfather Mole!" little Mr. Chippy cried.
"It wouldn't do any good," Rusty told him. "Grandfather Mole won't answer any questions. But he's in some sort of trouble. There's no doubt of that."
They looked down at Grandfather Mole, who was still scurrying frantically about the garden. If he heard their talk he did nothing to let them know it. And they had begun to think that they would never know his secret when a person who looked somewhat like Grandfather Mole thrust her head and shoulders out of a hole in the ground.
"That"--Rusty Wren whispered--"that is Grandfather Mole's daughter. I know, for I've seen her before." And listening sharply, the bird people heard her say, "Don't worry, Father! I've found them."
Grandfather Mole didn't wait for anything more. He didn't even wait until he had found the opening in which his daughter had appeared. He began to dig right where he stood. And he was out of sight in short order.
Although the bird people didn't know it, he was anxious to reach his grandchildren. He had them out for a stroll through his underground galleries; and walking behind him they had taken a wrong turn when Grandfather Mole didn't know it. After looking for them in vain down below he had feared that they might have found their way into the open air. And that was why he was running about in such a distracted fashion.