Reddy Fox came down the Lone Little Path through the Green Forest on
his way to the Green Meadows. He had brushed his red coat until it
shone. His white waistcoat was spotless, and he carried his big tail
high in the air, that it might not become soiled. Reddy was feeling as
fine as he looked. He would have liked to sing, but every time he
tried his voice cracked, and he was afraid that some one would hear
him and laugh at him. If there is one thing that Reddy Fox dislikes
more than another, it is being laughed at.

Reddy chuckled at his thoughts, and what do you think he was thinking
about? Why, about how he had seen Farmer Brown's boy carrying off
Unc' Billy Possum by the tail the afternoon before. He knew how Farmer
Brown's boy had caught Unc' Billy in the hen-house, and with his own
eyes he had seen Unc' Billy carried off. Of course Unc' Billy was
dead. There could be no doubt about it. And Reddy was glad of it. Yes,
Sir, Reddy was glad of it. Unc' Billy Possum had made altogether too
many friends in the Green Forest and on the Green Meadows, and he had
made Reddy the laughing-stock of them all by the way he had dared
Reddy to meet Bowser the Hound, and actually had waited for Bowser
while Reddy ran away.

Reddy remembered that Unc' Billy's hollow tree was not far away. He
would go over that way, just to have another look at it. So over he
went. There stood the old hollow tree, and half way up was the door
out of which Unc' Billy used to look down on him and grin. It was
Reddy's turn to grin now. Presently he sat down with his back against
the foot of the tree, crossed his legs, looked this way and that way
to make sure that no one was about, and then in a dreadfully cracked