brownish feather in the woods, which old Mother Grouse had dropped in
one of her flights. And Tommy was having great sport with it, tossing
it up in the air, and slapping and snapping at it, as it drifted
slowly down to the ground again.

He grew quite excited, did Tommy Fox. For he just couldn't help making
believe that it was old Mother Grouse herself--and not merely one of
her smallest feathers that he had found. And he leaped and bounded and
jumped and tumbled about and made a great fuss over nothing but that
little, soft, brownish feather.

There was something about that feather that made Tommy's nose twitch
and wrinkle and tremble. Tommy sniffed and sniffed at the bit of down,
for he liked the smell of it. It made him feel very hungry. And at
last he felt so hungry that he decided he would go home and see if his
mother had brought him something to eat. So he started homewards.

I must explain that Tommy lived with his mother and that their house
was right in the middle of one of Farmer Green's fields, not far from
the foot of Blue Mountain. When Tommy was quite small his mother had
chosen that place for her house, which was really a den that she had
dug in the ground. By having her house in the center of the field she
knew that no one could creep up and catch Tommy when he was playing
outside in the sunshine. Now Tommy was older, and had begun to roam
about in the woods and meadows alone. But Mrs. Fox liked her home in
the field, and so she continued to live there.

Tommy was so hungry, now, and in such a hurry to reach home, that you
might think that he would have gone straight toward his mother's
house. But he didn't. He trotted along a little way, and suddenly gave