Who keeps a watch upon his toes
Need never fear he’ll bump
his nose.
— Old Granny
Fox.
Now there is nothing like being shut
in alone in the dark to make one think. A voice
inside of Reddy began to whisper to him. “If
you hadn’t tried to be smart and show off you
wouldn’t have brought all this trouble on yourself
and Old Granny Fox,” said the voice.
“I know it,” replied Reddy
right out loud, forgetting that it was only a small
voice inside of him.
“What do you know?” asked
Prickly Porky. He was still keeping Reddy in
and Granny out and he had overheard what Reddy said.
“It is none of your business!” snapped
Reddy.
Reddy could hear Prickly Porky chuckle.
Then Prickly Porky repeated as if to himself in a
queer cracked voice the following:
“Rudeness never, never pays,
Nor is there gain in saucy ways.
It’s always best to be polite
And ne’er give way to ugly spite.
If that’s the way you feel inside
You’d better all such feelings hide;
For he must smile who hopes to win,
And he who loses best will grin.”
Reddy pretended that he hadn’t
heard. Prickly Porky continued to chuckle for
a while and finally Reddy fell asleep. When he
awoke it was to find that Prickly Porky had left and
old Granny Fox had brought him something to eat.
Just as soon as Reddy Fox was able
to travel he and Granny had moved to the Old Pasture.
The Old Pasture is very different from the Green
Meadows or the Green Forest. Yes, indeed, it
is very, very different. Reddy Fox thought so.
And Reddy didn’t like the change, —
not a bit. All about were great rocks, and around
and over them grew bushes and young trees and bull-briars
with long ugly thorns, and blackberry and raspberry
canes that seemed to have a million little hooked
hands, reaching to catch in and tear his red coat and
to scratch his face and hands. There were little
open places where wild-eyed young cattle fed on the
short grass. They had made many little paths
all crisscross among the bushes, and when you tried
to follow one of these paths you never could tell
where you were coming out.
No, Reddy Fox did not like the Old
Pasture at all. There was no long, soft green
grass to lie down in. And it was lonesome up
there. He missed the little people of the Green
Meadows and the Green Forest. There was no one
to bully and tease. And it was such a long, long
way from Farmer Brown’s henyard that old Granny
Fox wouldn’t even try to bring him a fat hen.
At least, that’s what she told Reddy.
The truth is, wise old Granny Fox
knew that the very best thing she could do was to
stay away from Farmer Brown’s for a long time.
She knew that Reddy couldn’t go down there,
because he was still too lame and sore to travel such
a long way, and she hoped that by the time Reddy was
well enough to go, he would have learned better than
to do such a foolish thing as to try to show off by
stealing a chicken in broad daylight, as he had when
he brought all this trouble on them.
Down on the Green Meadows, the home
of Granny and Reddy Fox had been on a little knoll,
which you know is a little low hill, right where they
could sit on their doorstep and look all over the Green
Meadows. It had been very, very beautiful down
there. They had made lovely little paths through
the tall green meadow grass, and the buttercups and
daisies had grown close up to their very doorstep.
But up here in the Old Pasture Granny Fox had chosen
the thickest clump of bushes and young trees she could
find, and in the middle was a great pile of rocks.
Way in among these rocks Granny Fox had dug their
new house. It was right down under the rocks.
Even in the middle of the day jolly, round, red Mr.
Sun could hardly find it with a few of his long, bright
beams. All the rest of the time it was dark and
gloomy there.
No, Reddy Fox didn’t like his
new home at all, but when he said so old Granny Fox
boxed his ears.
“It’s your own fault that
we’ve got to live here now,” said she.
“It’s the only place where we are safe.
Farmer Brown’s boy never will find this home,
and even if he did he couldn’t dig into it as
he did into our old home on the Green Meadows.
Here we are, and here we’ve got to stay, all
because a foolish little Fox thought himself smarter
than anybody else and tried to show off.”
Reddy hung his head. “I
don’t care!” he said, which was very, very
foolish, because, you know, he did care a very great
deal.
And here we will leave wise Old Granny
Fox and Reddy, safe, even if they do not like their
new home. You see, Lightfoot the Deer is getting
jealous. He thinks there should be some books
about the people of the Green Forest, and that the
first one should be about him. And because we
all love Lightfoot the Deer, the very next book is
to bear his name.
* END of the Project
gutenberg EBOOK, old Granny Fox
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