big a dinner Mrs. Coon set before her family, as soon as he had finished
eating his share Fatty would wipe his white moustache carefully--for all
the world like some old gentleman--and hurry off in search of something
more.

Sometimes he went to the edge of the brook and tried to catch fish by
hooking them out of the water with his sharp claws. Sometimes he went
over to the swamp and hunted for duck among the tall reeds. And though
he did not yet know how to catch a duck, he could always capture a frog
or two; and Fatty ate them as if he hadn't had a mouthful of food for
days.

To tell the truth, Fatty would eat almost anything he could get--nuts,
cherries, wild grapes, blackberries, bugs, small snakes, fish, chickens,
honey--there was no end to the different kinds of food he liked. He ate
everything. And he always wanted more.

"Is this all there is?" Fatty Coon asked his mother one day. He had
gobbled up every bit of the nice fish that Mrs. Coon had brought home
for him. It was gone in no time at all.

Mrs. Coon sighed. She had heard that question so many times; and she
wished that for once Fatty might have all the dinner he wanted.

"Yes--that's all," she said, "and I should think that it was enough for
a young coon like you."

Fatty said nothing more. He wiped his moustache on the back of his hand
(I hope you'll never do that!) and without another word he started off
to see what he could find to eat.