just below Reddy and in plain sight of Quacker! Yes, Sir, that is
what she did!

Then began such a queer performance that it is no wonder that Reddy
was sure Granny had lost her senses. She rolled over and over.
She chased her tail round and round until it made Reddy dizzy to
watch her. She jumped up in the air. She raced back and forth.
She played with a bit of stick. And all the time she didn't pay the
least attention to Quacker the Duck.

Reddy stared and stared. Whatever had come over Granny? She was
crazy. Yes, Sir, that must be the matter. It must be that she had
gone without food so long that she had gone crazy. Poor Granny! She
was in her second childhood. Reddy could remember how he had done
such things when he was very young, just by way of showing how fine
he felt. But for a grown-up Fox to do such things was undignified,
to say the least. You know Reddy thinks a great deal of dignity.
It was worse than undignified; it was positively disgraceful. He
did hope that none of his neighbors would happen along and see
Granny cutting up so. He never would hear the end of it if they did.

Over and over rolled Granny, and around and around she chased her tail.
The snow flew up in a cloud. And all the time she made no sound.
Reddy was just trying to decide whether to go off and leave her
until she had regained her common sense, or to go out and try to
stop her, when he happened to look out in the open water where
Quacker was. Quacker was sitting up as straight as he could.
In fact, he had his wings raised to help him sit up on his tail, the
better to see what old Granny Fox was doing.