Grandfather Kit-chee, the
head of the family.

"'That is easy,' answered the Master of Life. 'A-tos-sa, as you know,
sheds his skin. If you look sharp, you can find the cast-off skins
almost anywhere. Do as I have said, and you will be safe. Even Mee-ko
the Squirrel and others of your enemies will be afraid of the snake-skin
and let your nests alone.'

"The Kit-chee family did as the Master of Life told them to do. From
that time to this they always have woven a snake-skin into their nests,
and their nests have seldom been robbed."

"Thank you," said the little boy, "that was a good story. Now I must be
going home. There's Aunt Martha calling for dinner." And he slid down
out of the old apple tree and went across the orchard to the house.

[Illustration]

VIII. LITTLE LUKE AND NICK-UTS THE YELLOWTHROAT

Among little Luke's bird friends was little Nick-uts the Yellowthroat.
He was a dainty little fellow, with an olive green back, a bright
yellow breast, and a black mask across his face that made him look
like a highwayman. Though he was lively and nervous, he had a gentle
disposition and a sweet voice. His home was in some low bushes in the
pasture.

Whenever little Luke went up to see him, he would hop up on a branch and
call out, "Which way, sir? Which way, sir?" And when the little boy
started to go away, he would say, "Wait a minute. Wait a minute."

Every time the little boy went for the cows he would stop and chat a
moment with Mr. and Mrs. Nick-uts. To be sure, Mrs. Nick-uts never had
much to say. She was a quiet little body, not so fidgety as Nick-uts,
and besides, she had to stay close at home and see to the eggs and
babies.

One morning, as little Luke was going for the cows, he saw Nick-uts
bobbing around very excitedly.

"Come here. Come here," called Nick-uts, when he saw the little boy;
"I want some help." And he hopped over by the nest.

Little Luke went over to the nest and looked in. "Look there," said
Nick-uts, "see that big, ugly egg. Take it out, please."

"Take it out?" said little Luke. "Why should I do that? Isn't it yours?"

"No, indeed," said Nick-uts, "it's old Mother Mo-lo's. The nasty old
wretch laid it in there while we were away from home. She's always
sneaking around, the lazy old thing, to lay her eggs in some other
bird's nest. She's cowardly too. She always picks out the nest of one
smaller than herself. I wish I were big enough to give her a sound
thrashi