Danny Fox was having a very hard time of it. You see, the ground was
all covered with snow and wherever he went he left his footprints. And
these telltale footprints showed just where he had been. And this was
just what he didn’t want people to know.
No, siree, he didn’t want the Kind Farmer to find his footprints in the
Old Barn Yard. That would be a dreadful giveaway. It would certainly
show that Danny Fox had been after a nice fat hen, and Danny Fox didn’t
want anybody, least of all the Kind Farmer, to know that.
Yes, sir, Danny Fox was having a hard time. The door of the Henhouse
was so tightly closed at night that he couldn’t push it open, and the
ground frozen so hard that he couldn’t dig underneath it. Now what was
Danny Fox to do?
Every night when he came home Slyboots and Bushytail would say, “What
have you brought to eat, daddy dear?”
And Mrs. Fox would say: “There is nothing in the cupboard; nothing at
all!”
All this would make Danny Fox feel very badly. But feeling sorry
doesn’t keep one from feeling hungry. So he would answer, “I thought
perhaps you might have had better luck, but as the cupboard is empty,
I’ll go out and try again.”
One night as he was prowling around the Big Red Barn he came to a hole.
It wasn’t a very big hole. It was just large enough for him to push in
his long thin nose and see what was going on.
There sat Mr. Longtooth Rat eating his supper of corn.
“Good evening,” said Danny Fox.
“Won’t you come in?” said Mr. Longtooth Rat with a grin.
“Bah!” retorted Danny Fox with a snarl, “don’t talk nonsense.” He knew
Mr. Longtooth Rat was making fun of him, for how could he squeeze
through a hole that was only just large enough for his head?
“Don’t lose your temper,” said Mr. Longtooth Rat. “I might do you a
favor.”
“What kind of a favor?” asked Danny Fox suspiciously.
“Come around tomorrow night,” answered the old rat. “By that time I’ll
be able to gnaw off the wooden latch on the Henhouse door.”
“All right,” replied Danny Fox, “I’ll be back tomorrow night,” and he
trotted off to his den among the rocks.
Sometimes the very best of plans
Go wrong, and we get cross
To find that we must start anew,
And often at a loss.