BUDDY JIM was a bit hot and tired when the last load of hay had been stowed away in the loft in the barn.

It was almost time for supper he knew, but it was so cool and dim up there under the rafters, and the hay was so cool and fragrant, that he decided he would stay and take a little rest.

And you know how it is; when you're a bit weary and very comfy; well, Buddy Jim nearly fell asleep.

But just as he was on the thin edge of dreamland, he woke up. And he heard voices! Very earnest little voices, too, they were.

"Don't worry, Mother," said one little voice, "I don't believe there will be many more loads of hay this year. And anyway it will never, I'm sure, reach up as high as this cross beam we are on. I don't think we shall have to move."

"I would not take the chance of staying in this nest one single day more," answered a second little voice. "Why, there was one time this afternoon whey I thought surely that our home and our babies were going to be ab-so-lute-ly covered up under great forks-ful of hay.

"So we are going to move, Daddy," went on the voice, "and we are going to move this very night!"

"O well, if you feel that way about it," said the first voice, "I will look around while I'm out to dinner, and see if I can find a new place."

"Yes, Daddy, please do that," said the second little voice earnestly, "and while you are out, I'll get the children to sleep, so they won't be stupid when moving time comes."

Then there came the sound of something almost, but not quite, like the flutter of wings, and Buddy Jim was surprised to see what looked like a very tiny air-plane sailing across the loft and out at the window that had been left open for the barn swallows.

"Now I wonder," said Buddy Jim, "who these funny little people can be?" Just then across the loft, came the sound of a little, croony, sleepy-time song. Just the kind of a song that mothers the world over sing to their babies at bed time.

Presently it died away, and all was still, and Buddy Jim knew that the babies, whoever they were, had gone to sleep.

"I'm going to find out who that is," said he, crawling softly across the hay towards the place from where the sound of the voices and the singing had come. Presently, in the dim light he could just make out a tiny creature in a tawny dress sitting on a tuft of hay. She had been daintily munching the seeds from a buttercup stalk. But now she sat very still. Buddy sat very still, too. He knew that the small Mother person had seen him.

But she did not run away. She couldn't, you see. Because her precious babies were there. So she sat quite still and hoped that Buddy Jim had not seen her.

"Don't be afraid of me," said Buddy Jim, "I'm just a neighbor, and I won't hurt you."

"My! you make me breathe easier," said the small Mother person, "most boys would drive me away and take my babies away to live in one of those dreadful prisons they call cages. My! I'm glad that you are not that kind of boy. Why," she went on, "we came into this hay loft to live because we thought there wasn't a boy on the farm."

"There wasn't until my Daddy bought it," said Buddy Jim. "We came in the Springtime. Daddy wants me to know all about my little country neighbors. You see I'm from the city, and I've never seen many wild creatures—nobody but Reddy Bat—so I just want to know them all. I wouldn't hurt your babies, and I wouldn't think of taking them away."

"Well, that surely makes me feel better," said the little Mother person.

"But won't you please tell me your name?" said Buddy Jim. "Why, surely," said the small Mother person, "we are the Flying Squirrels, though we of course do not really fly, we just get our balance and sail through the air. Like this," she said, giving a little jump and sailing across the loft and back again.

"I heard you planning to move," said Buddy Jim. "Why! This is such a safe big place for the babies to play around in."

"That's what we thought," said Mother Flying Squirrel, "and that is why we moved into Barn Swallow's old nest instead of making one for ourselves—he isn't using it this year—see, it's up on that cross-beam. But now that they are filling the barn so full of hay, I'm afraid my children will be buried under it, so Father Squirrel has gone out to see if he can find us a new place to live in."

"Wait a minute," said Buddy Jim, "I think I can help you. You just sit tight until I come back."

Buddy Jim slid down from the hayloft and went out to his own little work bench which Daddy had given him. There he hunted until he found just what he wanted. It was a wooden box that used to hold soap. In a few minutes with hammer and nails he had made just the nicest little house you could wish for. And then he covered the floor of it with soft, fine shavings, and took it back to the hayloft.

Then he climbed up on the cross beam, and nailed the house way up high, so high that the hay just never could come up to it.

And then he sat down to watch little Mother Flying Squirrel move. First she fixed the shavings to suit herself. Then, for fear it was not soft enough she got some hay and put that in and trampled it down.

Then she moved the babies, taking one at a time, in her mouth, just the way Tabby the Cat moves hers. When they were all safely in the new nest, she sat up on the top of the house to look for Daddy Flying Squirrel.

Presently he came in and sailed straight over to where his house used to be.

You should have seen his face! But Mother Squirrel called, "We've moved, we live up here now."

"Well, well," said Daddy Flying Squirrel, "where did you ever get this house? And where are the babies?"

"All safely tucked in bed, bless their hearts," said Mother Flying Squirrel. "This house is a present from our new neighbor, Buddy Jim. There he is over there on the hay."

"A Boy!" gasped Daddy Flying Squirrel. "Now we shall have to move."

"Indeed we won't," said Mother Flying Squirrel, "Buddy Jim is the right kind of a boy. He takes care of small creatures instead of hurting them."

Just then came the call to supper. "Where have you been so long Buddy Jim?" asked his father.

"I was fixing a house for the flying Squirrels and their babies, up in the hay loft, Daddy," answered the little boy. "I'm going to tame them. I'm going to get them so tame that they will eat out of my hand before the summer is over."

"He will do it, too," said Old Bob the gardener to Mary the maid. "All the little animals around the place seem to love Buddy. He's so good to them."