Sleepy-Time Tales: the Tale of Fatty Coon eBook

Arthur Scott Bailey
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 50 pages of information about Sleepy-Time Tales.

Mrs. Coon sighed.  She had heard that question so many times; and she wished that for once Fatty might have all the dinner he wanted.

“Yes—­that’s all,” she said, “and I should think that it was enough for a young coon like you.”

Fatty said nothing more.  He wiped his moustache on the back of his hand (I hope you’ll never do that!) and without another word he started off to see what he could find to eat.



When Fatty Coon started off alone to find something more to eat, after finishing the fish that his mother had brought home for him, he did not know that he was going to have an adventure.  He nosed about among the bushes and the tall grasses and caught a few bugs and a frog or two.  But he didn’t think that that was much.  He didn’t seem to have much luck, down on the ground.  So he climbed a tall hemlock, to see if he could find a squirrel’s nest, or some bird’s eggs.

Fatty loved to climb trees.  Up in the big hemlock he forgot, for a time, that he was still hungry.  It was delightful to feel the branches swaying under him, and the bright sunshine was warm upon his back.  He climbed almost to the very tip-top of the tree and wound himself around the straight stem.  The thick, springy branches held him safely, and soon Fatty was fast asleep.  Next to eating, Fatty loved sleeping.  And now he had a good nap.

Fatty Coon woke up at last, yawned, and slowly unwound himself from the stem of the tree.  He was terribly hungry now.  And he felt that he simply must find something to eat at once.

Without going down to the ground, Fatty climbed over into the top of another big tree and his little beady, bright eyes began searching all the branches carefully.  Pretty soon Fatty smiled.  He smiled because he was pleased.  And he was pleased because he saw exactly what he had been looking for.  Not far below him was a big nest, built of sticks and lined with bark and moss.  It was a crow’s nest, Fatty decided, and he lost no time in slipping down to the crotch of the tree where the nest was perched.

There were four white eggs in the nest—­the biggest crow’s eggs Fatty had ever seen.  And he began to eat them hungrily.  His nose became smeared with egg, but he didn’t mind that at all.  He kept thinking how good the eggs tasted—­and how he wished there were more of them.

There was a sudden rush through the branches of the tall tree.  And Fatty Coon caught a hard blow on his head.  He felt something sharp sink into his back, too.  And he clutched at the edge of the nest to keep from falling.

Fatty was surprised, to say the least, for he had never known crows to fight like that.  And he was frightened, because his back hurt.  He couldn’t fight, because he was afraid he would fall if he let go of the nest.

Project Gutenberg
Sleepy-Time Tales: the Tale of Fatty Coon from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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