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Gene Montandon          < Go Back

Bob and Charles were sitting on the telephone wire early in the morning. The sun was just coming up, and the fog was slowly burning off,

Bob and Charles were crows; complete opposites. Bob was out-going, wore a derby hat he had found and was fond of cigars. He loved to pick up a discarded cigar butt and clench it in his bill. He wore his derby hat to the side in a jaunty manner, and welcomed each new day with pure joy,

Charles, on the other hand was quite, especially for a crow. Timid is not the right word, but he was conservative. Charles wore a bandana on his head, like a woman's head scarf, knotted under his beak. He liked it because it kept his head cool in the summer heat. He had plucked it from a farmer's hip pocket one day, and the red color of the bandana suited him to a tee. He wore it all the time.

Bob was in a joyous mood and said, "Let us have something different this morning for breakfast Charles. I am tired of corn. I need something sweet. Let us have melon.

"No, No," said Charles. "The melon farmer has his eye on us, and he has a gun. He nicked my tail feathers the last time we tried. Let's just get some corn. No one bothers us, and we can get as full as we want.

"My good friend Charles, are you afraid of the melon farmer? He is a poor shot, old and feeble. We can come in low, and feast on watermelon."

"No, No," said Charles. "Why take a risk? The corn is plentiful. Even though I would like some watermelon, it is simply not worth the risk."

"Well," said Bob. "I am going, adjusting his derby and chomping on his cigar. Off he flew.

Charles, being a thoughtful crow, shook his head. Bob was his best friend, and Charles knew Bob was single minded. But Charles continued to sit on the telephone wire and think, cawing quietly to himself, adjusting his headscarf. He listened for a shot that would end poor Bob.

Nothing happened. No shots. So Charles, against his better judgment, flew to the melon field and saw Bob happily pecking a hole in a huge watermelon. Charles joined him, and began to peck a hole in the juicy watermelon. Melons were everywhere, and Bob and Charles became gluttons, pecking holes and drinking the sweet juice from the melons. Then an old pickup appeared, and an old man with a shot gun and an old yellow dog tumbled out of the pickup. The old man fired a shot, and the old dog charged Bob and Charles. Off they flew, with another shot nicking their tail feathers. Bob was laughing and all smiles, looking below at the old man shaking his fist, and the old yellow dog barking at them.

"See," said Bob. "That was easy. Plenty of melons, little risk, and it sure beats corn every day."

"No," said Charles. "Corn is good and safe,'" adjusting his bandana. He smiled a little to himself. It was good melon.