Jimmy Skunk, would get hungry for eggs and would get caught in the
traps, and he was still more afraid that Farmer Brown's boy would
think to put his hand down under the hay in the last nest of the top
row in the darkest corner. So Unc' Billy spent most of his time
studying and thinking of some way to get out, and if he couldn't do
that, of some way to warn Jimmy Skunk to keep away from Farmer Brown's
hen-house.

If it hadn't been for those two worries, Unc' Billy would have been
willing to stay there the rest of the winter. It was delightfully warm
and cosy. He knew which nest Mrs. Speckles always used and which one
Mrs. Feathertoes liked best, and he knew that of all the eggs laid in
Farmer Brown's hen-house those laid by Mrs. Speckles and Mrs.
Feathertoes were the best. Having all the eggs he could eat, Unc'
Billy had grown very particular. Nothing but the best, the very best,
would do for him. So he would lie curled up in the last nest of the
top row in the darkest corner and wait until he heard the high-pitched
voice of Mrs. Speckles proudly crying:

"Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut, cut-aa-cut! I lay the finest eggs in the
world!"

Then Unc' Billy would chuckle to himself and wait a few minutes longer
for the voice of Mrs. Feathertoes, saying: "Cut, cut, cut, cut,
cut-aa-cut, cut, cut, cut! No one lays such splendid eggs as I do!"
Then, while Mrs. Speckles and Mrs. Feathertoes were disputing as to
which laid the best eggs, Unc' Billy would slip out and breakfast on
both those newly laid eggs.

So for almost a week Unc' Billy lived in Farmer Brown's hen-house and