Reddy Fox thought of that saying many times as he hunted through the
Green Forest that night, afraid to go home. You see, he had almost
dined on Quacker the Duck over at the Big River that day and then
hadn't, and it was all his own fault. That was why he was afraid to
go home. From his hiding-place on the bank he had watched Quacker
swim in and in until he was almost on the shore where old Granny Fox
was whirling and rolling and tumbling about as if she had entirely
lost her senses. Indeed, Reddy had been quite sure that she had
when she began. It wasn't until he saw that curiosity was drawing
Quacker right in so that in a minute or two Granny would be able to
catch him, that he understood that Granny was anything but crazy,
and really was teaching him a new trick as well as trying to catch
a dinner.

When he realized this, he should have been ashamed of himself for
doubting the smartness of Granny and for thinking that he knew all
there was to know. But he was too much excited for any such thoughts.
Nearer and nearer to the shore came Quacker, his eyes fixed on the
red, whirling form of Granny. Reddy's own eyes gleamed with excitement.
Would Quacker keep on right up to the shore? Nearer and nearer and
nearer he came. Reddy squirmed uneasily. He couldn't see as well
as he wanted to. The bushes behind which he was lying were in his way.
He wanted to see Granny make that jump which would mean a dinner
for both.

Forgetting what Granny had charged him, Reddy eagerly raised his
head to look over the edge of the bank. Now it just happened that
at that very minute Quacker chanced to look that way. His quick
eyes caught the movement of Reddy's head and in an instant all his
curiosity vanished. That sharp face peering at him over the edge of