Mistah Buzzard, you are making fun of me! That’s what you are doing—making fun of me!” exclaimed Peter Rabbit indignantly.

“Ah’m doing nothing of the kind, Brer Rabbit,” declared Ol’ Mistah Buzzard. “What fo’ do you say that?” He looked very solemn, though if the truth be known he was having hard work to keep a twinkle of mischief from showing in his eyes.

“Because,” replied Peter in a tone that showed that he felt hurt and decidedly put out, “you tell me that you and Mrs. Buzzard haven’t any nest, and then you tell me that Mrs. Buzzard is so busy with household cares that she hasn’t time to fly in the blue, blue sky as she did when she first arrived. You tell me that you haven’t any nest, and then you tell me that you have two eggs. Your story doesn’t hang together. It doesn’t hang together at all. No, Sir, it doesn’t hang together at all. If you have two eggs, of course you have a nest. If you haven’t a nest, why how can you have two eggs? Tell me that! I can believe one half your story, but only half. Do you know which half I believe?”

Ol’ Mistah Buzzard turned his head as if to look off over the Green Forest, but really to hide a grin. When he looked down at Peter again he appeared to be indignant in his turn.

“Ah’m not used to having mah word doubted, Brer Rabbit,” said he with dignity. “Ah always have had a most friendly feeling fo’ yo’, Brer Rabbit, but Ah reckons Ah don’ want anything mo’ to do with one who tells me to mah face that he doesn’t believe what Ah say. No, Suh, Ah reckon Ah don’ want anything mo’ to do with any such person as that.”

Ol’ Mistah Buzzard shifted his position awkwardly and turned his back on Peter Rabbit.

Peter didn’t know what to do. He and Ol’ Mistah Buzzard had been the best of friends, and he didn’t want that friendship to end. He had been quite honest in saying that he didn’t believe that story. He didn’t believe it because he couldn’t believe it. At least, he didn’t see how he could. But now that Ol’ Mistah Buzzard seemed to be actually offended, a little doubt crept into Peter’s head. He had lived long enough to know that there are some things very hard to believe which are true nevertheless.

For some time he sat staring at Ol’ Mistah Buzzard’s back, and while he stared he did a lot of thinking. Finally he decided that Ol’ Mistah Buzzard’s friendship was worth a great deal more than satisfying his own idle curiosity.

“Mistah Buzzard,” said he in a timid small voice, “of course, if you say on your honor that you are not joking me and that you really have two eggs and no nest I’ll believe you. I wouldn’t for the world have you think that I doubt your word of honor. I wouldn’t think of doing such a thing. You see, I never heard of such a thing as anybody having eggs and no place to put them, and so of course I thought you were joking. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. Won’t you tell me where those eggs are?”

Ol’ Mistah Buzzard kept still so long that Peter feared that after all he was too much offended to make up. But at last he turned around and looked down at Peter.

“Brer Rabbit,” said he, “Ah accept your apology. Ah have seen so many things hard to believe mahself that Ah know how yo’ feel. What Ah told yo’ is true on mah honor. We-uns haven’t any nest, but Mrs. Buzzard and Ah done got two as fine aiggs as ever yo’ have seen. Where they are is the secret of we-uns. All Ah can tell yo’ is that they are here or hereabouts. Ah reckon that now Ah’ll stretch my wings a bit.”

With this Ol’ Mistah Buzzard spread his great wings, flapped them a few times and then sailed up, up, up in the blue, blue sky, leaving Peter more puzzled and curious than ever.