With a long sigh of satisfaction, for he was tired, Tommy sat down on the wishing-stone, planted his elbows on his knees, dropped his chin in his hands, looked over to the Green Forest through half-closed eyes, and wished. “I wish,” said he, slowly and earnestly, “I could be a partridge.” He meant, of course, that he could be a grouse. Just as had happened before when he had expressed such a wish on the old wishing-stone, the very instant the words were out of his mouth, he ceased to be a boy. He was a tiny little bird, like nothing so much as a teeny, weeny chicken, a soft little ball of brown and yellow, one of a dozen, who all looked alike as they scurried after their little brown mother in answer to her anxious cluck. Behind them, on the ground, cunningly hidden back of a fallen tree, was an empty nest with only some bits of shell as a reminder that, just a few hours before, it had contained twelve buff eggs. Now Tommy and his brothers and sisters didn’t give the old nest so much as a thought. They had left it as soon as they were strong enough to run. They were starting out for their first lesson in the school of the Great World. Perhaps Tommy thought his mother fussy and altogether a great deal too nervous; but if he did, he didn’t say so. There was one thing that seemed to have been born in him, something that as a boy he had to learn, and that was the habit of instant obedience. It was instinct, which, so naturalists say, is habit confirmed and handed down through many generations. Tommy didn’t know why he obeyed. He just did, that was all. It didn’t occur to him that there was anything else to do. The idea of disobeying never entered his funny, pretty little head. And it was just so with all the others. Mother Grouse had only to speak and they did just exactly what she told them to. This habit of obedience on their part took a great load from the mind of Mother Grouse. They hadn’t been in the Great World long enough to know, but she knew that there were dangers on every side; and to watch out for and protect them from these she needed all her senses, and she couldn’t afford to dull any of them by useless worrying. So it was a great relief to her to know that, when she had bidden them hide and keep perfectly still until she called them, they would do exactly as she said. This made it possible for her to leave them long enough to lead an enemy astray, and be sure that when she returned she would find them just where she had left them. She had to do this twice on their very first journey into the Great World. Tommy was hurrying along with the others as fast as his small legs could take him when his mother gave a sharp but low call to hide. There was a dried leaf on the ground close to Tommy. Instantly he crept under it and flattened his small self to the ground, closed his eyes tight, and listened with all his might.