too-wit, too-woo lived in a big hollow tree with his family. there was mrs. too-wit, and their two little sons, t'wit and t'woo. in one of the biggest holes in the old hollow tree they had a very comfortable home.

every night as the shadows began to creep through the great forest, t'wit would sing a little song. he was very proud of it, for he had made it up himself. he would look over at t'woo as much as to say, "you never could make up such a lovely song," and then he would toot across to his brother:

"how happy i am

in the forest so deep;

i sing and i play

while other folks sleep!"

t'woo was quite provoked to think that his brother had made up such a pretty song, and he tried very hard to think up one for himself. finally, one evening just as t'wit was about to sing his evening verse, t'woo opened his beak very wide, and before t'wit could commence, he tooted across:

"all thro' the night

i sing and i play,

while other folk do

just the opposite way!"

t'wit was so surprised that he almost fell off the limb on which he sat, winking and blinking in the early twilight.

mr. and mrs. too-wit, too-woo looked at each other as much as to say, "did you ever see such bright children as ours?"

presently mr. too-wit flew off for his evening flutter, and both his small sons followed, while mrs. too-wit went inside the house.

"where are you going, father?" asked t'wit as they flew along silently; but his parent did not vouchsafe a reply until they neared the edge of the forest. then he turned and said, "you two boys sit here while i fly over to tell my little friend some news," and with these words, off he flew straight for the indian camp, leaving the two small owls perched on a limb of a tree. when he reached a tent near a big tree, he fluttered down to the ground, and gave a low hoot. the little indian boy pushed his head out: "what is it, too-wit?" he asked.

"there's a flock of wild turkeys roosting in the clump of trees by the lake. bring your bow and arrows before it gets too dark. i'll wait at the edge of the wood for you. t'wit and t'woo are keeping a look-out while i'm here."

little indian hastily picked up his bow and arrows, and started off for the lake. as he drew near the clump of trees, he crept stealthily along, so as not to frighten the wild turkeys. when he was near enough, he fitted a bow to his arrow, and taking careful aim, shot one of the birds. the flock became frightened as soon as they saw one of their comrades fall, and taking wing, they flew off in all directions, not before, however, the little indian boy had shot off his bow the second time. this time, his aim was not so true; the turkey must have been only slightly wounded, because there was no trace of him, save a few feathers, when little indian ran up to the spot where he had last seen him.

picking up the bird which he had killed with his first arrow, he turned back to the camp. "thank you," he said to too-wit, as he passed the tree on which his feathered friend sat, "you see, i've got my dinner for tomorrow."

too-wit spread his wings, and his two small sons followed after, and presently they were all three back at the big hollow tree, where mrs. too-wit had a nice supper all ready for them.

the next afternoon little indian and too-wit went to see two funny little frogs who lived in the lake.

"look," said little indian to too-wit. "aren't they cunning?"

"yes," answered the owl; "that's freddie and fannie frog. wait a minute and i'll fly over and tell them how kind you are, for the forest folk are quick to trust a friend."

so too-wit flew over to where freddie and fannie frog were contentedly sitting on their lily-pad under the long grass on the edge of the lake.

"hello, hullo, too-woo!" cried too-wit.

freddie jumped up so quickly that the lily-pad tilted to one side, and overboard went fannie frog with a splash.

but fannie knew how to swim, as every well-trained lady frog does, and after shaking the water from her eyes, she scrambled back upon the lily-pad, none the worse for her ducking.

but, dear me, i forgot to say she had lost her pretty parasol! little indian saw it floating away from the spot—a pretty little lily, the petals of which fannie had bent downward until they had made a very nice umbrella top, indeed, and by holding it up by the stem, she was able to keep the hot sun from freckling her funny little face.

"oh, where's my parasol?" screamed fannie. "oh, dear! oh, dear! there it is, 'way out of my reach!"

little indian leaned over the bank and picked up the lily.

"oh, thank you!" said fannie, now smiling again; "thank you so much!"

"oh, that's nothing!" answered little indian. "i'm glad to be able to get it for you. it certainly would be a shame to lose such a pretty thing!"

just then a breeze sprang up, and away drifted the lily-pad with freddie and fannie.

little indian watched them as they sailed away, for fannie was now holding up for a sail the little pink parasol, which helped to pull their boat along at a good pace.

then too-wit, too-woo said good-by, and flew back to his home in the forest.

the big, round sun was now going down behind the purple hills, the shadows were slowly filling all the nooks and corners of the big forest, and the lake, in the gathering darkness, looked dim and gloomy.

little indian could no longer see the lily-pad boat. "they must have landed on the other side of the lake by this time," he thought, as he started for home, and when he came out of the forest he was glad to see in the distance the cheerful glow of his camp fire.