“Goodness gracious!” Brownie Beaver exclaimed.
“Fatty Coon—” Mr. Crow said—“Fatty
Coon was confined to his house by illness Tuesday
night. He ate too many dried apples.”
“Well, well!” Brownie Beaver murmured.
And he started to ask Mr. Crow a question. But
Mr. Crow interrupted him with more news.
“Mrs. Bear had a birthday on Wednesday.
An enjoyable time was had by all—except
the pig.”
“Pig?” Brownie Beaver asked. “What
pig?”
“The pig they ate,” said Mr. Crow.
And he went right on talking. “On Thursday
Mr. Woodchuck went to visit his cousins in the West.
Mrs. Woodchuck is worried.”
“What’s she worried about?” Brownie
inquired.
“She’s afraid he’s coming back again,”
Mr. Crow explained.
“I have heard he was lazy,” Brownie
said. “What happened on Friday?”
“Tommy Fox made a visit. But he didn’t
have a good time at all,” Mr. Crow reported,
“and he left faster than he came.”
Brownie Beaver wanted to know where Tommy Fox made
his visit.
“At Farmer Green’s hen-house,” Mr.
Crow explained.
“Why did he hurry away?” Brownie asked.
“Old dog Spot chased him,” Mr. Crow replied.
“But you mustn’t ask questions,”
he complained. “You can’t ask questions
of a newspaper, you know.”
“Well—what happened on Saturday?”
“There you go again!” cried Mr. Crow.
“Another question! I declare, I don’t
believe you ever took a newspaper before—did
you?”
Brownie Beaver admitted that he never had.
“Then—” said Mr. Crow—“then
don’t interrupt me again, please! I’ll
tell you all the news I’ve brought. And
when I’ve finished I’ll stop being a newspaper
and be myself for a while. And then we can talk.
But not before!” he insisted.
Brownie Beaver nodded his head. He was afraid
that if he said another word Mr. Crow would grow angry
and fly away without telling him any more news.
“On Saturday—this morning, to be
exact”—said Mr. Crow, “there
came near being a bad accident. Jimmy Rabbit
almost cut off Frisky Squirrel’s tail.”
Mr. Crow paused and looked at Brownie Beaver out of
the corner of his eye. He knew that Brownie would
want to know what prevented the accident. But
he was in no hurry to tell him.
For a few moments Brownie waited to hear the rest.
But a few moments was more than he could endure.
“Why didn’t Jimmy cut off his tail?”
Brownie asked eagerly.
“There!” said Mr. Crow. “You’ve
done just as I told you not to. So I shall not
tell you the rest until next Saturday.... You
see, you have a few things to learn about taking a
newspaper.” And ’he would give Brownie
no more news that day. To be sure, he was willing
to talk—but only about things that had
happened where Brownie Beaver lived.
MR. CROW IS UPSET
