"You don't understand," old Mr. Crow said. "What I mean is this: I'll fly over here once a week and tell you everything that's happened. Of course," he continued, "I can't very well tell you everything that is going to take place the following week. But I'll do my best." Brownie Beaver was delighted. And when Mr. Crow asked him what day he wanted his newspaper Brownie said that Saturday afternoon would be a good time. "That's the last day of the week," Brownie Beaver remarked, "so you ought to have plenty of news for me. You know, if you came the first day of the week there would be very little to tell." "That's so!" said Mr. Crow. "Well say 'Saturday,' then. And you shall have your newspaper without fail--unless," he explained--"unless there should be a bad storm, or unless I should be ill. And, of course, if Farmer Green should want me to help him in his cornfield, I wouldn't be able to come. There might be other things, too, to keep me at home, which I can't think of just now," said Mr. Crow. Again Brownie Beaver looked a bit doubtful. "I hope you'll try to be regular," he told Mr. Crow. "When a person takes a newspaper he doesn't like to be disappointed, you know." Old Mr. Crow said that he hoped nothing would prevent his coming to Brownie's house every Saturday afternoon. "There's only one more thing I can think of," he croaked, "that would make it impossible for me to be here. And that is if I should lose count of the days of the week or have to see a baseball game or fly south for the winter." "But that's _three_ things, instead of only _one_," Brownie Beaver objected. "Well--maybe it is," Mr. Crow replied--"the way you count. But I call it only one because I said it all in one breath, without a single pause." "I hope you won't tell me the news as fast as that," said Brownie Beaver, "for if you did I should never be able to remember one-half of it." But Mr. Crow promised that he would talk very slowly. "You'll be perfectly satisfied," he told Brownie. "And now I must go home at once, to begin gathering news." VII A NEWFANGLED NEWSPAPER After Mr. Crow flew back to Pleasant Valley to gather news for him, Brownie Beaver carefully counted each day that passed. Since Mr. Crow had agreed to be his newspaper, and come each Saturday afternoon to tell him everything that had happened during the week, Brownie was in a great hurry for Saturday to arrive. In order to make no mistake, he put aside a stick in which he gnawed a notch each day. And in that way he knew exactly when Saturday came. That was probably the longest day in Brownie Beaver's life. At least, it seemed so to him. Whenever he saw a bird soaring above the tree-tops he couldn't help hoping it was Mr. Crow. And whenever he heard a _caw_--_caw_ far off in the distance Brownie Beaver dropped whatever he happened to be doing, expecting that Mr. Crow would flap into sight at any moment.