Old Mr. Crow had decided that he would not fly south to spend the winter. He said he was getting almost too old for such a long journey.
And he remembered, too, that he had heard the weather was going to be mild that winter.
"There's just one thing that worries me," he told Aunt Polly Woodchuck one day, when he was talking the matter over with her. "I don't know what I shall have to eat."
