  Benny Badger was not at all glad to see Mr. Coyote. And after Benny's ill luck, the smile upon Mr. Coyote's face made the disappointed digger feel almost peevish. "What a beautiful evening it is!" said Mr. Coyote. "And what a fine night for digging!" Benny Badger glared at the newcomer, making no attempt to hide his displeasure at seeing him. "I don't notice you doing any digging," he remarked with a sneer. He had no use for Mr. Coyote, and he did not But Mr. Coyote was not one to take a hint. If he knew he wasn't wanted anywhere, it never made the slightest difference to him. And when Benny as much as told him that he was too lazy to dig a hole, Mr. Coyote did not lose his temper even for a moment. "No—I seldom dig," he replied. "I don't want to spoil your fun. If I went to work and dug and dug anywhere and everywhere there'd soon be nothing but holes, no matter where you went. You'd have no place to dig a hole yourself. And then you'd be pretty unhappy." Benny Badger hadn't thought of that. And he didn't know just what to say, because if Mr. Coyote meant what he said, Benny wanted to say something pleasant "Besides," Mr. Coyote added, "I haven't time for digging, because I have to practice singing.... If you don't mind, I'll practice a song right now." And without waiting to find out whether Benny Badger did mind or not, Mr. Coyote began singing in the harshest of voices: The Coyote's Song When Mr. Sun has gone to bed to seek his needed rest, And Mrs. Wind blows softly from the foothills in the west, I love to sing my yip-ky, oodle-doodle in the night. When morning comes I hurry home, to take my daily nap; But when the spooky shadows fall and all the world is dark, Oh! then's the time I'm wide awake and ready with a yap, A happy, yappy yip-ky, oodle-doodle, and a bark. And none that hears my lovely voice, when startled from a dream, Will soon forget how I begin my chorus with a growl; Nor how I quickly run the scale, to end it with a scream, Let them that do not know my ways cry fearfully for help, And shake and shiver when they hear my loud and lusty call; While I will merely jeer at them with something like a yelp, A happy, yappy yip-ky, oodle-doodle, and a squall. And now I will explain to you—perhaps you've guessed before The lesson that I always strive with might and main to teach— If you would frighten timid folk, alarm them with a roar, A happy, yappy, yip-ky, oodle-doodle, and a screech. "How do you like that?" Mr. Coyote asked with a grin, when he had finished. "Not very well!" said Benny Badger. Mr. Coyote looked just the least bit crestfallen. "Perhaps I haven't practiced the song as much as I should," he remarked. And thereupon he started to sing it again. But Benny Badger stopped him quickly. "Don't!" he cried. And he held his paws, dirty as they were, over his ears, as if he couldn't bear to hear that song another time. Mr. Coyote smiled agreeably. "I see," he said easily. "You don't enjoy music as I do. But I believe we have one taste in common." "What's that?" Benny Badger asked him; for in spite of his paws being over his ears, he heard what Mr. Coyote said. "What's that?" "Ground Squirrels!" Mr. Coyote replied, licking his chops as he spoke. |
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