When old Granny Fox had laid down
the chicken she was bringing home to Reddy Fox to
try to catch Peter Rabbit, she had meant to go right
back and get it as soon as she had caught Peter.
Now she saw Peter going across the Green Meadows,
lipperty-lipperty-lip, as fast as he could go.
She was so angry that she hopped up and down.
She tore up the grass and ground her long, white teeth.
She glared up at Ol’ Mistah Buzzard, who had
warned Peter Rabbit, but all she could do was to scold,
and that didn’t do her much good, for in a few
minutes Ol’ Mistah Buzzard was so far up in the
blue, blue sky that he couldn’t hear a word she
was saying. My, my, but old Granny Fox certainly
was angry! If she hadn’t been so angry
she might have seen Johnny Chuck lying as flat as he
could make himself behind a big clump of grass.
Johnny Chuck was scared. Yes,
indeed, Johnny Chuck was dreadfully scared. He
had fought Reddy Fox and whipped him, but he knew that
old Granny Fox would be too much for him. So it
was with great relief that Johnny Chuck saw her stop
tearing up the grass and trot over to see how Reddy
Fox was getting along. Then Johnny Chuck crept
along until he was far enough away to run. How
he did run! He was so fat and roly-poly that
he was all out of breath when he reached home, and
so tired that he just dropped down on his doorstep
and panted.
“Serves me right for having
so much curiosity,” said Johnny Chuck to himself.
Reddy Fox looked up as old Granny
Fox came hurrying home. He was weak and very,
very hungry. But he felt sure that old Granny
Fox would bring him something nice for his breakfast,
and as soon as he heard her footsteps his mouth began
to water.
“Did you bring me something
nice, Granny?” asked Reddy Fox.
Now old Granny Fox had been so put
out by the scare she had had and by her failure to
catch Peter Rabbit that she had forgotten all about
the chicken she had left up on the hill. When
Reddy spoke, she remembered it, and the thought of
having to go way back after it didn’t improve
her temper a bit.
“No!” she snapped.
“I haven’t!—You don’t
deserve any breakfast anyway. If you had any
gumption”—that’s the word Granny
Fox used, gumption—“if you had any
gumption at all, you wouldn’t have gotten in
trouble, and could get your own breakfast.”
Reddy Fox didn’t know what gumption
meant, but he did know that he was very, very hungry,
and do what he would, he couldn’t keep back
a couple of big tears of disappointment. Granny
Fox saw them.
“There, there, Reddy! Don’t
cry. I’ve got a fine fat chicken for you
up on the hill, and I’ll run back and get it,”
said Granny Fox.
So off she started up the hill to
the place where she had left the chicken when she
started to try to catch Peter Rabbit. When she
got there, there wasn’t any chicken. No,
Sir, there was no chicken at all—just a
few feathers. Granny Fox could hardly believe
her own eyes. She looked this way and she looked
that way, but there was no chicken, just a few feathers.
Old Granny Fox flew into a greater rage than before.