Green Meadow Stories, Thornton W. Burgess [read people like a book .txt] 📗

way because he was thoughtful. In fact, Reddy was doing a lot of hard thinking. He was thinking about those chickens Blacky had told him of. The more he thought of them, the hungrier he grew. You see, Reddy had been having rather a hard time to get enough to eat.

“Yes, sir,” said Reddy to himself, “I would go a long, long distance to get a good plump hen. I wish I knew just where that farm is that that black rascal talked about. I wonder if he has gone that way now. If I were sure that he has, I would make a little journey in that direction myself. But I’m not sure. That black rascal flies all over the country. That farm may lie in the direction he has gone now, and it may be in quite the opposite direction. Somehow I’ve got to find out in just which direction it is.”

Reddy yawned, for he had been out all night, and he was sleepy. He decided that the best thing he could do would be to get a good rest. One must always be fit if one is to get on in this life. The harder one must work, the more fit one should keep, and a proper amount of sleep is one of the most necessary things in keeping fit. So Reddy curled up to sleep.

Hardly had his eyes closed when he began to dream. You see, he had been thinking so hard about those fat hens, and he was so hungry for one of them, that right away he began to dream of fat hens. It was a beautiful dream. At least, it was a beautiful dream to Reddy. Fat hens were all about him. They were so fat that they could hardly walk. Not only were they fat, but they seemed to think that their one object in life was to fill the stomachs of hungry foxes, for they just stood about waiting to be caught.

Never in all his life had Reddy Fox known anything so wonderful as was that dream. There were no dogs to worry him. There were no hunters with dreadful guns. All he had to do was to reach out and help himself to as many fat hens as he wanted. He ate and ate and ate, all in his dream, you know, and when he could eat no more he started for home. When he started for home the fat hens that were left started along with him. He led a procession of fat hens straight over to his home in the Old Pasture.

Just imagine how Reddy felt when at last he awoke and there was not so much as a feather from a fat hen anywhere about, while his stomach fairly ached with emptiness.

XXIX Reddy Tries to Arouse Blacky’s Pity

Trust a Fox only as far as you can see him, and lock the chickens up before you do that.

Bowser the Hound

All the next night, as Reddy Fox hunted and hunted for something to eat, he kept thinking of that dream of fat hens, and he kept wondering how he could get Blacky the Crow to tell him just where that farm with fat hens was. Blacky on his part had spent a whole day wondering how he could induce Reddy Fox to make that long journey over to where Bowser the Hound was a prisoner of kindness. Blacky was smart enough to know that if he seemed too anxious for Reddy to make that long journey, Reddy would at once suspect something. He knew well enough that if Reddy had any idea that Bowser the Hound was over there, nothing would tempt him to make the trip.

Early the next morning, just as on the morning before, Blacky stopped over by Reddy’s house. This time Reddy was already home. Actually he was waiting for Blacky, though he wouldn’t have had Blacky know it for the world. As soon as he saw Blacky coming, he lay down on his doorstep and pretended not to see Blacky at all.

“Good morning, Reddy,” said Blacky, as he alighted in the top of a little tree close by.

Reddy raised his head as if it were all he could do to lift it. “Good morning, Blacky,” said he in a feeble voice.

Blacky looked at him sharply. “What’s the matter, Reddy?” he demanded. “You seem to be feeling badly.”

Reddy sighed. It was a long, doleful sigh. “I am feeling badly, Blacky,” said he. “I never felt worse in my life. The truth is I⁠—I⁠—I⁠—” Reddy paused.

“You what?” demanded Blacky, looking at Reddy more sharply than ever.

“I am starving,” said Reddy very feebly. “I certainly shall starve to death unless I can find some way of getting at least one good meal soon. You have no idea, Blacky, how dreadful it is to be hungry all the time.” Again Reddy sighed, and followed this with a second sigh and then a third sigh.

Blacky looked behind him so that Reddy might not see the twinkle in his eyes. For Blacky understood perfectly what Reddy was trying to do. Reddy wasn’t fooling him a bit. When he looked back at Reddy he was very grave. He was doing his best to look very sympathetic.

“I’m right sorry to hear this, Reddy,” said he. “I certainly am. I’ve been hungry myself more than once. It seems a pity that you should be starving here when over on that farm I told you about yesterday are fat hens to be had for the taking. If you were not so weak, I would be tempted to show you where they are.”

XXX Blacky the Crow Is All Pity

People who think that they are fooling others very often discover that they have been fooling themselves.

Bowser the Hound

To have seen and heard Blacky the Crow as he talked to Reddy Fox, you would have thought that there was nothing under the sun in his heart or mind