To give her children what each needs
To get the most from life he can,
To work and play and live his best,
Is wise Old Mother Nature’s
plan.
— Old Granny
Fox.
Old Granny Fox asked Reddy how he
would like to eat a dinner of Bowser the Hound’s,
Reddy looked at her sharply to see if she were joking
or really meant what she said. Granny looked
so sober and so much in earnest that Reddy decided
she couldn’t be joking, even though it did sound
that way.
“I certainly would like it,
Granny. Yes, indeed, I certainly would like
it,” said he. “You — you
don’t suppose he will give us one, do you?”
Granny chuckled. “No,
Reddy,” said she. “Bowser isn’t
so generous as all that, especially to Foxes.
He isn’t going to give us that dinner; we are
going to take it away from him. Yes, Sir, we
just naturally are going to take it away from, him.”
Reddy didn’t for the life of
him see how it could be possible to take a dinner
away from Bowser the Hound. That seemed to him
almost as impossible as it was for him to climb or
fly or dive. But he had great faith in Granny’s
cleverness. He remembered how she had so nearly
caught Quacker the Duck. He knew that all the
time he had been away trying to find something for
them to eat, old Granny Fox had been doing more than
just rest her tired old bones. He knew that
not for one single minute had her sharp wits been idle.
He knew that all that time she had been studying
and studying to find some way by which they could
get something to eat. So great was his faith
in Granny just then that if she had told him she would
get him a slice of the moon he would have believed
her.
“If you say we can take a dinner
away from Bowser the Hound, I suppose we can,”
said Reddy, “though I don’t see how.
But if we can, let’s do it right away.
I’m hungry enough to dare almost anything for
the sake of something to put in my stomach. It
is so empty that little bit of fish we divided is
shaking around as if it were lost. Gracious,
I could eat a million fish the size of that one!
Have you thought of Fanner Brown’s hens, Granny?”
“Of course, Reddy! Of course!
What a silly question!” replied Granny.
“We may have to come to them yet.”
“I wish I was at them right
now,” interrupted Reddy with a sigh.
“But you know what I have told
you,” went on Granny. “The surest
way of getting into trouble is to steal hens.
I’m not feeling quite up to being chased by
Bowser the Hound just now, and if we came right home
we would give away the secret of where we live and
might be smoked out, and that would be the end of
us. Besides, those hens will be hard to get
this weather, because they will stay in their house,
and there is no way for us to get in there unless we
walk right in, in broad daylight, and that would never
do. It will be a great deal better to take Bowser’s
dinner away from him. In the first place, if
we are careful, no one but Bowser will know about it,
and as long as he is chained up, we will have nothing
to worry about from him. Besides, we will enjoy
getting even with him for the times he has spoiled
our chances of catching a fat chicken and for the
way he has hunted us. Most decidedly it will
be better and safer to try for Bowser’s dinner
than to try for one of those hens.”
“Just as you say, Granny; just
as you say,” returned Reddy. “You
know best. But how under the sun we can do it
beats me.”
“It is very simple,” replied
Granny, “very simple indeed. Most things
are simple enough when you find out how to do them.
Neither of us could do it alone, but together we
can do it without the least bit of risk. Listen.”
Granny went close to Reddy and whispered
to him, although there wasn’t a soul within
hearing. A slow grin spread over Reddy’s
face as he listened. When she had finished,
he laughed right out.
“Granny, you are a wonder!”
he exclaimed admiringly. “I never should
have thought of that. Of course we can do it.
My, won’t Bowser be surprised! And how
mad he’ll be! Come on, let’s he starting!”
All right,” said Granny, and
the two started towards Farmer Brown’s.