That evening Mrs. Fox said to Danny Fox as he started off for the Old
Farm Yard:
“Be sure, my dear, to bring home a chicken.”
“Bring back two,” cried Bushytail and Slyboots, as their father trotted
away in the bright moonlight.
It was very still and quiet; only the rustle of the dry leaves on the
trees broke the stillness as the old fox ran swiftly down the hillside
over to the Shady Forest. At last he came to the Old Farm Yard.
Stealing around to the rear of the Big Red Barn, he looked up and down,
from one side to the other, but where was Mr. Longtooth Rat’s front
door?
“Can I have made a mistake?” said Danny Fox, creeping around the
corner. But there was no hole there, either. Danny Fox was puzzled.
Yes, indeed, he certainly was puzzled. It was only last night that he
had been here, and now, where was the entrance to Mr. Rat’s house?
He was just about to leave when he heard Mr. Longtooth Rat’s voice. It
came from the other side of the wall.
“Yes, my dear,” Mr. Longtooth Rat was saying to his wife, “we have lost
our front door, and all on account of that old thieving Danny Fox.”
“Be careful what you say about me,” snarled Danny Fox, pressing his
nose close to the boards.
“Be careful of what, you old red robber?” squeaked Mr. Longtooth Rat.
“You’d better be careful!”
Goodness me! No sooner had he spoken than something snapped under Danny
Fox’s foot. Danny Fox was caught. Yes, sir, his foot was caught in a
trap. Pull as hard as he could, he couldn’t get it out.
What would Mrs. Fox think when he didn’t come home? What would
Bushytail and Slyboots say when there was no Daddy Fox at breakfast?
He pulled and tugged. But, oh dear me. He couldn’t get his foot out.
Slowly the night passed, and Cocky Doodle sang his early morning
“Cock-a-doodle-do.”
Betsy the Old Gray Mare whinnied in her stall and Cocky Doodle sang
over again his “cock-a-doodle-do.” Mr. Merry Sun got out of bed and
began to climb up the sky. It grew lighter and pretty soon Henny Penny
cackled over her new-laid egg.
Danny Fox gave another tug. Then he looked carefully at the trap. In
the dim light he made out a rope fastened to the barn. The next moment
Danny Fox was gnawing that rope as fast as he could. At last it broke
and he hobbled away, holding up his right forepaw, which was still fast
in the iron jaws of the trap.