PINKIE WHISKERS ran to Winkle and Twinkle. He was so frightened that he hid behind them. Twinkle laughed and said:

“Do not hide, for the butterfly has gone and anyway it was as afraid of us as you were of it. Butterflies are perfectly harmless. They do not sting or bite. They are as gentle and timid as they are beautiful.”

Pinkie Whiskers looked in every direction, but he could not see the butterfly, so he shook himself and ran about once more. He was glad to know that butterflies were harmless, for he might meet one again.

“Look, look! what is that?” cried Winkle as he pointed to a fat, brown, furry animal which was coming slowly toward them.

“I do not know,” replied Twinkle. “Don’t you think that we had better go now?”

“No, indeed,” said Pinkie Whiskers, who had suddenly become very brave. “I want to wait and see what kind of an animal he is.”

When the fat, brown, furry animal was near enough to hear, Pinkie Whiskers called out:

“Hello! who are you?”

“I am Sammy Woodchuck. I live here in the meadow. You look like strangers. Where do you live?” he inquired.

“Our names are Twinkle Gray, Winkle Gray and Pinkie Whiskers Gray,” replied Pinkie Whiskers. “We live in the cheese factory.”

“Why, that is strange, that is strange,” said Sammy Woodchuck. “You must be relatives of Uncle Whiskers. I have heard him speak of you. Welcome to the country.”

“Thank you very much for your welcome,” replied Pinkie Whiskers, for Mother Gray had taught her children to be very polite.

“Why do you call our Uncle Whiskers, your Uncle Whiskers,” inquired Twinkle. “Is he related to you also?”

Sammy Woodchuck threw back his fat head and laughed until his eyes were full of tears. “No, no!” he cried. “He is not related to me. How could a rat and a woodchuck be related? Everyone calls him Uncle Whiskers because we all love him. He is so kind and good to us all. You see I have known him all my life and ‘Uncle’ is my pet name for him. You ask any of the animals about here and they will tell you the same thing.”

“That is very nice,” said Pinkie Whiskers. “When I get old, I hope everyone will love me enough to call me ‘Uncle.’ I shall try and be good and kind like Uncle Whiskers.”

“Won’t you come home with me?” urged Sammy Woodchuck. “It is just a nice walk from here.”

“Yes, we would love to go home with you,” cried the three little brothers all at once. As they walked along they came to a beautiful tree and at the foot of this tree lay a shiny new axe.

Pinkie Whiskers ran and picked it up. He had never seen anything like it, so he turned it over and over and inquired:

“What is this wonderful thing and what is it for?”

“It is an axe,” replied Sammy Woodchuck. “It is very sharp and Farmer Gale uses it to cut down trees. You see he has already started to chop this tree down. He must have been called away and I am sure that he intends to return soon or he would not have left his axe here.”

“I will help him chop down this tree,” said Pinkie Whiskers.

He took off his little red coat and hung it on a stick, which Farmer Gale had stuck in the ground. Then he put his brown cap on top of his little red coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves and began his work.

He swung the axe high above his head and brought it down against the tree with a great bang! He looked and to his disappointment saw that he had not cut even a tiny chip.

“I will try again,” he vowed. “What others have done, I can do.”

He chopped and chopped at the big tree until he was rewarded by bright, yellow chips flying through the air.

Winkle, Twinkle and Sammy Woodchuck stood by and watched him with great admiration. Sammy Woodchuck said:

“You are doing splendid work, Pinkie Whiskers. I will take some of these chips home with me and put them across my front door. I always use the back door. It is more safe.”