for fox or man the better plan

with unknown danger near,

is to go home and no more roam

until the way be clear.

that is what reddy fox thinks. the thought popped right into his head when jimmy skunk told him that the half-eaten chicken had been left on the green meadows by some one with teeth and feet very like reddy's own but bigger. but reddy pretended not to believe it. “pooh!” said he. “how do you know that this stranger has feet like mine, only bigger. you haven't seen him, have you?”

“no,” said jimmy skunk, shaking his head, “no, i haven't seen him, and i don't need to, to know that. his footprints are right over here in the sand. come look for yourself, reddy fox.”

“no, thanks!” said reddy hastily. “the fact is, i have some very important matters to look after in the green forest, and i must hurry along. you'll excuse me, won't you, jimmy skunk? if you say that there are footprints like mine, only larger, of course i believe it. i would stop to look at them if i could, but i find that i am already very late. by the way, if you will look a little closer at those footprints, i think you will find that they were made by a dog. i'm sorry i can't wait for you, but you are such a slow walker that i really haven't the time. let me know if you find out anything about this stranger.” and with that off he started for the green forest.

jimmy skunk grinned, for he knew that reddy had nothing more important to attend to than to get away as fast as he could from a place which he felt might be dangerous.

“don't fool yourself, reddy fox, by thinking i don't know the footprints of a dog when i see them. besides, i smelled of them, and they don't smell of dog!” shouted jimmy, before reddy could get out of hearing.

jimmy watched reddy out of sight and chuckled as he saw reddy keep turning to look over his shoulder as if he expected to find something terrible at his heels. “i'd never run away until i knew what i was running from!” exclaimed jimmy, with the greatest scorn. “did you ever see such a coward?”

with reddy gone, jimmy's thoughts came back to the queer things which were driving all the happiness from the green meadows at the very happiest time of all the year. there was that strange, terrible voice in the night, the voice that was not that of hooty the owl or dippy the loon or a little yelping dog, yet which sounded something like all three, and which was frightening all the little people until they were afraid to move out of sight of their homes. and here was this half-eaten chicken hidden in the clump of grass and hushes on the green meadows by some one with teeth and feet very much like those of reddy fox only bigger. it was all very queer, very queer indeed. the more he thought about it, the more jimmy felt sure that the owner of the terrible voice was the owner of the big teeth and the maker of the strange footprints. he was scratching his head as he puzzled over the matter when he happened to look over to the home of digger the badger. jimmy's eyes brightened.

“i believe i'll make a call on digger. perhaps he will know something about it,” said he, and off he started.

digger the badger sat on his doorstep. he has very few friends, for he is grumpy and very apt to be out of sorts. besides, most of the little meadow people are afraid of him. but jimmy skunk isn't afraid of any one but farmer brown's boy, and not even of him unless he has his terrible gun. so he walked right up to the doorstep where digger the badger was sitting.

“good morning,” said jimmy politely.

“morning,” grunted digger the badger.

“what do you think of the queer doings on the green meadows?” asked jimmy.

“what queer doings?” asked digger.

then jimmy skunk told all about the strange voice and the strange footprints.

digger the badger didn't say a word until jimmy was through. then he chuckled.

“why,” said he, “that is only my old friend from the great west—old man coyote.”

该作者其它作品

《thornton w. burgess》