Billy Woodchuck had been asleep for a long, long time. The world above was white with snow. But no matter how hard the cold winter winds might blow, or how heavily the snow fell, in their underground chamber Mrs. Woodchuck’s family were snug and warm in their beds.

At last one day late in the winter Billy heard some one moving about. He was so drowsy that at first he didn’t stir. But finally he opened an eye and saw that it was his mother who had disturbed him.

“What is it, Mother? Has spring come?” Billy asked.

“No, my child,” she answered. “At least, I do not know that it has.”

“Then why are you getting up?” Opening both his eyes, Billy was surprised to see that Mrs. Woodchuck was putting on the warmest clothes she had. “You’re not going out of doors, are you?” he inquired. His mother was already drawing on a pair of thick, red mittens.

“Yes,” she said. “This is Ground Hog Day and I must go out and see what the weather is like.”

“But I thought every day was Ground Hog Day for us,” Billy replied.

“Well, you might say that it is,” she agreed. “But this is different. To-day is what men call Ground Hog Day.”

“May I come with you?” he asked. By this time he was wide awake.

Mrs. Woodchuck looked at him somewhat doubtfully.

“Young ground hogs like you aren’t supposed to go out this time of year,” she said. “It’s still quite cold, you know.”

“Please, Mother!”

“Well, you must wear plenty of warm clothing,” his mother told him. And she gave him so many coats to put on that Billy would not have known himself if he had looked in the surface of the brook. Of course, he couldn’t do that anyhow, then, for the brook was covered with ice.

When Billy was ready they stole out of the room, leaving the other children sound asleep.

“Whew!” said Billy Woodchuck when they stepped outside at last. “How cold it is!”

The sun was shining brightly, for all the air was so chilly. And Billy had a fine time chasing his shadow around the pasture. But he never could quite catch it. Sometimes he thought he was going to. But whenever he made a pounce at it his shadow moved just as quickly. And then he had to begin all over again.

“We’d better go in,” Mrs. Woodchuck said at last. And she looked down rather sadly at her own shadow, as if something had disappointed her.

“Oh, no!” Billy pleaded. “Let’s stay out a while longer.”

“It’s too cold,” his mother answered.

“But just look at the sun! It’s as bright as can be. And I’m not a bit sleepy. Besides, I think spring will come now—maybe to-morrow.”

But Mrs. Woodchuck knew better.

“There’ll be forty more days of winter,” she said.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“It’s the rule,” she explained. “If we had not seen our shadows, that would mean that spring was here; and I would wake up your brothers and sisters. But there are our shadows, as plain as can be! And so we must go to bed again and sleep forty days longer.”

“That’s a silly rule,” said Billy Woodchuck. “Who made it?”

“Don’t ask so many questions,” Mrs. Woodchuck answered. “Do as I tell you. Run in, now!”

And Billy had to obey. He grumbled a little. It seemed very foolish to him. And once more he asked his mother who it was that made such a horrid rule.

But Mrs. Woodchuck would not say another word. To tell the truth, she did not know the answer. She only knew that it was so.

THE END