Following his cry with two or three quick beats of his wings, Mr. Nighthawk dropped swiftly down among the trees in Farmer Green's dooryard.

He fell so fast that Kiddie Katydid, watching from his hiding-place in one of the maples, couldn't help hoping that the sky-coaster would be unable to stop himself in time to escape being dashed upon the ground.

But Mr. Nighthawk was very skillful at that sport. Just at the right moment he turned quickly, while the air rushed through his wing-feathers with a roaring sound. And then he mounted upward again.

Meanwhile Kiddie Katydid kept very still among the leaves, with his wings folded over his back. Only his two long, thread-like feelers would wave backwards and forwards, although he tried to keep them still. He was so nearly the color of the green of the tree-top that he trusted Mr. Nighthawk wouldn't be able to spy him.

But he was soon disappointed. For Mr. Nighthawk suddenly cried, "Ha!" and alighted on a neighboring limb.

"There you are!" he said. "You needn't think I don't see you!"

"Why, good evening!" Kiddie Katydid answered, since he was discovered—and there was no use denying it. "It's a great surprise—meeting you so unexpectedly. If you'd only sent word that you were coming I'd have made different arrangements."

"I've no doubt you would have!" Mr. Nighthawk sneered. "But I like to take people unawares.... I've heard about you," he added. "They say that you're a great jumper—the spriest jumper in all Pleasant Valley."

"Well, I can jump fairly well," Kiddie Katydid admitted. "But I don't pride myself on my jumping. It's something that has always run in my family, you know. All of us Katydids can leap quite a distance without any trouble."

"So I understand!" Mr. Nighthawk replied. "And I'll tell you some news that ought to please you: I've come here to-night for the special purpose of seeing you jump!"

Kiddie Katydid almost jumped out of his skin when he heard what Mr. Nighthawk said. And it wouldn't have been anything remarkable for him if he had. He had already squirmed out of his skin six times that summer—though not from fear, of course. Casting his skin was almost a habit with Kiddie. All his family were like that.

Though he was not nearly so old as Mr. Nighthawk, Kiddie Katydid had learned a thing or two during his brief lifetime. And though he would have liked very much to jump—and jump out of Mr. Nighthawk's sight, too—he had no wish to hide himself inside that feathered scoundrel. So he clung all the tighter to his perch and replied that he didn't believe he cared to do any jumping that night.

Now, Mr. Nighthawk had a certain odd trick of talking through his nose. Whether that was because the late hours he kept, even on dark nights, gave him a cold in his head, nobody seemed to know. Anyhow, he began teasing Kiddie Katydid to jump for him—and he talked through his nose more than ever. Yes! although Mr. Nighthawk tried his best to speak pleasantly, he only succeeded in making Kiddie Katydid want to laugh at him, for all Kiddie was so uneasy.