You’ll find that nothing more worth while can be
    Than helping others whose distress you see.

    Bowser the Hound.

On his way back to the Green Forest near Farmer Brown’s home, Blacky the Crow kept a sharp watch for Old Man Coyote.  But Old Man Coyote was nowhere to be seen, and it was too late to go look for him, because jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had already gone to bed behind the Purple Hills and the Black Shadows were hurrying towards the Green Forest.

Blacky never is out after dark.  You might think that one with so black a coat would be fond of the Black Shadows, but it isn’t so at all.  The fact is, bold and impudent as Blacky the Crow is in daylight, he is afraid of the dark.  He is quite as timid as anybody I know of in the dark.  So Blacky always contrives to go to bed early and is securely hidden away in his secret roosting-place by the time the Black Shadows reach the edge of the Green Forest.

Perhaps it isn’t quite fair to say that Blacky is afraid of the dark.  It isn’t the dark itself that Blacky fears, but it is one who is abroad in the dark.  It is Hooty the Owl.  Hooty would just as soon dine on Blacky the Crow as he would on any one else, and Blacky knows it.

The next morning, bright and early, Blacky flew over to the Old Pasture to the home of Old Man Coyote.  Just as he got there he saw Old Man Coyote coming home from an all-night hunt.  “I hope you have had good hunting,” said Blacky politely.

Old Man Coyote looked up at Blacky sharply.  Blacky is polite only when he wants to get something.  “There was plenty of hunting, but little enough reward for it,” replied Old Man Coyote.  “What brings you over here so early?  I should suppose you would be looking for a breakfast.”

Now Blacky the Crow is a very wise fellow.  He knows when it is to be sly and crafty and when it is best to be frank and out-spoken.  This was a time for the latter.  “I know where Bowser the Hound is,” said Blacky.  “I saw him yesterday.”

Old Man Coyote pricked up his ears and grinned.  “I thought he was dead,” said he.  “It’s a long time since we’ve heard from Bowser.  Is he well?”

“Quite well,” replied Blacky, “but unhappy.  He is homesick.  I suspect that the trouble with Bowser is that he hasn’t the least idea in which direction home lies.  You enjoy running, so why not go with me to pay Bowser a visit and then lead him back home?”

Old Man Coyote threw back his head and laughed in that crazy fashion of his till the very hills rang with the sound of his voice.