hat is this matter on which you cannot agree?"

"How many animals can fly?" returned Jimmy, by way of answer.

"One," replied Grandfather Frog. "I thought everybody knew that. Flitter
the Bat is the only animal who can fly."

"You forget Timmy, the Flying Squirrel!" cried Peter excitedly. "That
makes two."

Grandfather Frog shook his head. "Peter, Peter, whatever is the matter
with those eyes of yours?" he exclaimed. "They certainly are big enough.
I wonder if you ever will learn to use them. Half-seeing is sometimes
worse than not seeing at all. Timmy cannot fly any more than I can."

"What did I tell you?" cried Jimmy Skunk triumphantly.

"But I've seen him fly lots of times!" persisted Peter. "I guess that
any one who has envied him as often as I have ought to know."

"Hump!" grunted Grandfather Frog. "I guess that's the trouble. There was
so much envy that it got into your eyes, and you couldn't see straight.
Envy is a bad thing."

Jimmy Skunk chuckled.

"Did you ever see him away from trees?" continued Grandfather Frog.

"No," confessed Peter.

"Did you ever see him cut circles in the air like Flitter the Bat?"

"No-o," replied Peter slowly.

"Of course not," retorted Grandfather Frog. "The reason is because he
doesn't fly. He hasn't any wings. What he does do is to coast on the
air. He's the greatest jumper and coaster in the Green Forest."

"Coast on the air!" exclaimed Peter. "I never heard of such a thing."

"There are many things you never have heard of," replied Grandfather
Frog. "Sit down, Peter, and stop fidgeting, and I'll tell you a story."

The very word story was enough to make Peter forget everything else, and
he promptly sat down with his big eyes fixed on Grandfather Frog.

"It happened," began Grandfather Frog, "that way back in the beginning
of things, there lived a very timid member of the Squirrel family, own
cousin to Mr. Red Squirrel and Mr. Gray Squirrel, but not at all like
them, for he was very gentle and very shy. Perhaps this was partly
because he was very small and was not big enough or strong enough to
fight his way as the others did. In fact, this little Mr. Squirrel was
so timid that he preferred to stay out of sight during the day, when so
many were abroad. He felt safer in the dusk of evening, and so he used
to wait until jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had gone to bed behind the
Purple Hills before he ventured out to hunt for his food. Then his
quarrelsome cousins had g