As a matter of course, your Aunt Amy asked her what she meant, and Mrs. Mouser sat down at one side of the fireplace, as if making ready for an afternoon of story-telling.

Mrs. Mouser Flatters Mr. Fox

"It was like this;" she said. "I was down in the meadow looking for field mice one day, and met Mr. Fox. You know some animals think that he and I are relations; but whether we are or not, we have always been good friends. So he sat down for a chat, and we talked of first this thing and then that, until finally I said, just to make myself agreeable:

"'Do you know, Mr. Fox, I think you are very smart.'

"Well now, would you believe it, that puffed him way up with pride, and he said, grinning in a way that was enough to make any cat laugh:

"'Indeed I am, Mrs. Mouser. There isn't an animal around here who can hold a candle to me for smartness.'

"'What about the dogs?' I asked, thinking to joke him a little, and he turned up his nose as he said:

"'I don't give a snap of my claws for all the dogs there are around this place! Even if four or five of them should come right up here this minute, it wouldn't bother me any. You may not think it; but Mr. Towser is actually afraid of me.

"Well now, do you know that made me laugh again, because in the first place I knew it wasn't true; but what was the use of saying anything of the kind to him? He was swelled way out with pride, so I changed the conversation, and began talking about mice, when suddenly there was a terrible commotion down the lane, and up came Mr. Towser, Miss Spaniel and four or five other dogs, barking and yelping.

"Oh me, oh my, how frightened I was! Up a tree I scurried as fast as my legs would carry me, and not until I was safe on the highest limb did I look around to see Mr. Fox, who didn't care the snap of his claws for dogs; but, bless you, he was going toward the meadow with his tail hanging straight out behind him, while the dogs were gaining on him at every jump. Mr. Towser told me afterward that they made Mr. Fox just about as sick as Mrs. Toad made the bugs."

"What was it Mrs. Toad did?" your Aunt Amy asked, and Mrs. Mouser replied with a grin:

"Perhaps you never heard that Mr. Crow is a great hand at making poetry?"

Mr. Crow

"I have indeed," your Aunt Amy replied, and it was only with difficulty she prevented herself from laughing aloud. "I have heard of his poetry from every bird and animal around this farm."

Mr. Fox forgets how bold he was as the dogs chase him through the field