"good morning, grandfather mole!" jolly robin called.

"what!" cried grandfather mole. "have i made the mistake again of coming up on top of farmer green's garden?"

"you certainly have," jolly told him.

"i must be getting old," said grandfather mole. "i'm growing more careless every day. i didn't mean to dig my way above ground." and then, thrusting his long nose right into the dirt, he began to burrow out of sight.

"stop! please stop!" jolly robin besought him. "i want to ask you a question about digging."

grandfather mole pulled his nose out of the ground.

"what's your question?" he inquired.

"it's about grunty pig," jolly robin began.

"i thought you said it was about digging," grandfather mole grumbled. and he started to burrow once more.

"so it is!" jolly exclaimed. "i want to know how long it will take grunty pig to dig up the apple tree where i live."

again grandfather mole paused.

"it all depends," he muttered. "it all depends on how much of his time he spends at digging."

"he works every day," said jolly robin. "a good, long while every day!"

grandfather mole appeared to be thinking deeply.

"he boasts—" jolly robin explained—"he boasts that he will have the tree uprooted before fall."

"nonsense!" grandfather mole snorted. "if grunty pig says that, he doesn't know much about apple trees. he may be a fair digger; but he must be stupid."

"that's what i've always thought!" jolly robin exclaimed.

"he can't go very deep into things, or he'd never have made such a boast," grandfather mole declared. "when grunty pig digs, does he dig right down out of sight?"

"oh, no! never!" said jolly robin.

"ah! he merely scratches the surface!" grandfather mole remarked with a wise nod of his head. "well, it's no wonder that he made such a mistake."

"mistake!" jolly robin echoed. "do you mean that grunty pig won't have our apple tree down by fall?"

"i do," grandfather mole answered. "the roots of a big, old apple tree spread out a good rod in every direction. and it would take a hundred grunty pigs a whole summer to dig them free."

a broad smile spread over jolly robin's face.

"then—" he ventured—"then wouldn't it take grunty pig a hundred summers to dig up our tree, if he worked alone?"

"no doubt!" grandfather replied. "or, to be on the safe side, i'll say he could uproot your tree in ninety-nine summers."

"hurrah!" jolly robin shouted. "hurrah—and thank you, grandfather mole!" and leaving the old gentleman to dig himself out of sight, jolly robin hurried home to his wife.

mrs. robin was glad to see him. she knew, as soon as she caught a glimpse of his face, that he had good news for her. and she needed cheering, poor soul! for grunty pig was beneath the tree again, digging away in a most businesslike fashion.

"let him dig!" jolly robin whispered to his wife. "grandfather mole says it will take him ninety-nine summers to topple our tree over. and you know that grandfather mole is the greatest burrower in pleasant valley."

mrs. robin felt better at once. looking down at grunty pig, she said to her husband, "how stupid this son of mrs. pig's is! he has turned up at least a dozen angleworms while you've been gone. and he has let every one of them get away from him!"