You'll find as on through life you go
The thing you want may prove to be
The very thing you shouldn't have.
Then seeming loss is gain, you see.
- Old Granny Fox.
If ever two folks were mad away through, those two were Granny and
Reddy Fox as they watched Old Man Coyote gobble up the dinner they
had so cleverly stolen from Bowser the Hound. It was bad enough
to lose the dinner, but it was worse to see some one else eat it
after they had worked so hard to get it. "Robber!" snarled Granny.
Old Man Coyote stopped eating long enough to grin.
"Thief! Sneak! Coward!" snarled Reddy. Once more Old Man Coyote
grinned. When that dinner had disappeared down his throat to the last
and smallest crumb, he licked his chops and turned to Granny and
Reddy.
"I'm very much obliged for that dinner," said he pleasantly, his
eyes twinkling with mischief. "It was the best dinner I have had
for a long time. Allow me to say that that trick of yours was as
smart a trick as ever I have seen. It was quite worthy of a Coyote.
You are a very clever old lady, Granny Fox. Now I hear some one
coming, and I would suggest that it will be better for all concerned
if we are not seen about here."
He darted off behind the barn like a gray streak, and Granny and Reddy
followed, for it was true that some one was coming. You see Bowser the
Hound had discovered that something was going on around the corner of
the shed, and he made such a racket that Mrs. Brown had come out of
the house to see what it was all about. By the time she got around
there, all she saw was the empty pan which had held Bowser's dinner.
She was puzzled. How that pan could be where it was she couldn't
understand, and Bowser couldn't tell her, although he tried his very
best. She had been puzzled about that pan two or three times before.
Old Man Coyote lost no time in getting back home, for he never felt
easy near the home of man in broad daylight. Granny and Reddy Fox went
home too, and there was hate in their hearts, -- hate for Old Man
Coyote. But once they reached home, Old Granny Fox stopped growling,
and presently she began to chuckle.
"What are you laughing at?" demanded Reddy.
"At the way Old Man Coyote stole that dinner from us," replied Granny.
"I hate him! He's a sneaking robber!" snapped Reddy.
"Tut, tut, Reddy! Tut, tut!" retorted Granny. "Be fair-minded.
We stole that dinner from Bowser the Hound, and Old Man Coyote stole
it from us. I guess he is no worse than we are, when you come to
think it over. Now is he?"
"I -- I -- well, I don't suppose he is, when you put it that way, "
Reddy admitted grudgingly.
"And he was smart, very smart, to outwit two such clever people as we
are," continued Granny. "You will have to agree to that."
"Y-e-s," said Reddy slowly. "He was smart enough, but--"
"There isn't any but, Reddy," interrupted Granny. "You know the law
of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest. It is everybody for
himself, and anything belongs to one who has the wit or the strength
to take it. We had the wit to take that dinner from Bowser the
Hound, and Old Man Coyote had the wit to take it from us and the
strength to keep it. It was all fair enough, and you know there
isn't the least use in crying over spilled milk, as the saying is.
We simply have got to be smart enough not to let him fool us again.
I guess we won't get any more of Bowser's dinners for a while.
We've got to think of some other way of filling our stomachs when
the hunting is poor. I think if I could have just one of those fat
hens of Farmer Brown's, it would put new strength into my old bones.
All summer I warned you to keep away from that henyard, but the time
has come now when I think we might try for a couple of those hens."
Reddy pricked up his ears at the mention of fat hens. "I think so too,"
said he. "When shall we try for one?"
"To-morrow morning," replied Granny. "Now don't bother me while I
think out a plan."