With that, young Featherhead threw his tail saucily over one
shoulder, winked knowingly at his brothers, and said, "Certainly,
sir! If honesty consists in getting what you can while it is going,
I mean to be honest."

Very soon Featherhead appeared to his admiring companions in the
height of prosperity. He had a splendid hole in the midst of a heap
of chestnuts, and he literally seemed to be rolling in wealth; he
never came home without showering lavish gifts on his mother and
sisters; he wore his tail over his back with a buckish air, and
patronized Tip Chipmunk with a gracious nod whenever he met him, and
thought that the world was going well with him.

But one luckless day, as Featherhead was lolling in his hole, up came
two boys with the friskiest, wiriest Scotch terrier you ever saw.
His eyes blazed like torches, and poor Featherhead's heart died
within him as he heard the boys say, "Now we'll see if we can't catch
the rascal that eats our grain."

Featherhead tried to slink out at the hole he had gnawed to come in
by, but found it stopped.

"Oh, you are there, are you, mister?" said the boy. "Well, you don't
get out; and now for a chase!"

And, sure enough, poor Featherhead ran distracted with terror up and
down, through the bundles of hay, between barrels, and over casks,
but with the barking terrier ever at his heels, and the boys running,
shouting, and cheering his pursuer on. He was glad at last to escape
through a crack, though he left half of his fine brush behind him;