A quarrel you may often stay
 
By letting others have their way.
 
 
AND you will find, too, that other people are quite as likely to be right as you are. Now while Bob White told Mrs. Bob that he guessed she was right in choosing the place she did for their home he was not at all sure of it in his own mind. It wasn't a place he would have chosen if the matter had been left to him. No, Sir, that place wouldn't have been his choice. He knew of at least half a dozen places which he thought much better and safer. But, after all, this was to be Mrs. Bob's home even more than his, for she was the one who would have to stay there all the long days sitting on those beautiful white eggs they hoped to have soon.
 
So Bob kept his opinions to himself, and if he worried a little because the new home was so close to the Crooked¹ Little Path along which Reddy and Granny Fox went so often, he said nothing and brought his share of grasses, straw and leaves with which to build the nest. Mrs. Bob was very particular about that nest. Just a common open nest wouldn't do. Perhaps in that wise little head of hers she guessed just what was going on in Bob's mind and how he really didn't approve at all of building there. So she made a very clever little roof or dome² of grasses and straw over the nest with a little entrance on one side. When it was all done only the very sharpest eyes ever would discover it.
 
Of course Bob was proud of it, very proud indeed. “My dear, it's the finest nest I've ever seen,” he declared. “I hope, I do hope no one will find it.”
 
Mrs. Bob looked at him sharply³. “Why don't you own up that you wish it was somewhere else?” she demanded.
 
Bob looked a little foolish. “I can't quite get over the idea that this is a very dangerous place,” he confessed. “But I've great faith in your judgment⁴, my dear,” he hastened to add.
 
“Then see to it that you are careful when you come over this way and never under any circumstances fly directly here,” retorted⁵ Mrs. Bob. “Keep away unless I call for you, and when you do come fly over in the long grass back there and then keep out of sight and walk over here under cover of the grass and weeds.”
 
Bob promised he would do just as she had told him to, and to prove it he stole away through the long grass and did not take wing until he was far from the nest. Then he flew over beyond the dear Old Briar-path and whistled with all his might from sheer⁶ happiness.
 
It wasn't long before there were fifteen beautiful white eggs in the nest in the weeds beside the Crooked Little Path, and then Bob's anxiety increased, you may be sure. Time and time again he saw Reddy Fox or Granny Fox or Jimmy Skunk⁷ trot⁸ down the Crooked Little Path and he knew that they were coming to look for his nest. But never once did they think of looking in that patch of weeds, for it never entered their heads that any one would build so close to a path they used so much. But they hunted and hunted everywhere else.
 
And all the time little Mrs. Bob sat on those white eggs and the color of her cloak⁹ was so nearly the color of the brown grasses and leaves that even if they had looked straight at her it isn't at all likely that they would have seen her. Little by little Bob confessed to himself that Mrs. Bob was right. She had chosen the very safest place on the Green Meadows¹⁰ for their home. It was safest because it was the last place any one would look for it. Then Bob grew less anxious and spent all his spare time in fooling those who were looking for his home.