“Creak, creak, creak!
I’m old and very rusty,
Why don’t you wait till summertime
When it is hot and dusty.
This is no time to pull a nail
When Mr. North Wind blows a gale,”
shouted a rusty nail as Danny Fox tugged away at the loose board of
the Henhouse.
“S-s-s-sh!” whispered Danny Fox, “you’ll wake up Sic’em.”
But he need not have worried, for old Sic’em was dreadfully deaf.
Besides, he was asleep on the mat in front of the kitchen stove, and
how could he hear a rusty nail talk out in the farmyard, I should like
to know.
All the same, Danny Fox stopped tugging at the board and looked around
just as Mrs. Cow came to the door of the shed. No sooner did she see
the old fox than she gave a loud “MOO!”
“Keep quiet, can’t you?” whined Danny Fox, showing his long white
teeth. But they didn’t frighten her. Oh, my, no! She just lowered her
head and mooed again.
“I’ll run my horn right through your tail
If you don’t listen to that nail.
That board was fastened there to keep
Out folks like you who try to creep
In through a hole to steal a hen,
And maybe come around again.”
“Goodness me!” answered Danny Fox, “won’t you be quiet and let an
honest man get his supper?”
This made Mrs. Cow laugh so hard that the little bell on her leather
collar woke up the Kind Farmer, who had fallen asleep reading the
Almanac. When he opened the door and looked out, the Weathercock
pointed at Danny Fox hiding behind the Henhouse. But that wise old fox
didn’t wait another minute but turned and fled to his den on the wooded
hillside.
“Gee whiskers!” cried the Kind Farmer, “there goes old Danny Fox,” and
he ran to get his gun.
“Come on, Sic’em! Let’s go fox hunting!” And he and the old dog
followed Danny Fox’s footprints over the snow.
“He lives under that pile of rocks, sure enough,” said the Kind Farmer,
following Danny Fox’s trail right up to his front door. “But how shall
I get him out?”
And that’s just what old Sic’em thought, only he didn’t say so. He
barked instead, and the hair on his back stood out straight like
bristles on my tooth brush. Then he wagged his tail and barked harder
than ever.
“I guess I’ve come on a wild goose chase,” said the Kind Farmer. “That
old fox won’t come out, and I can’t wait here all day for we’re going
to have hot muffins for supper.”
Then, with a whistle to Sic’em, he turned back to the farm.
Home again! The kitchen fire
Warms the kettle to a song.
Home again! And now forgotten
Everything that has gone wrong.
Comfort and a place for dreaming
In the big armchair to find--
Where the wistful hearthstone fairies
Fill with dreams your tired mind.