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FTER the last of that bewildering series of tragedies which took the last member of Redcoat's family and left him all alone, a great sense of loneliness came over him. He had been associated with his brothers and sister ever since their birth in early Springtime. He had looked to Father Fox and Mother Fox for food and protection, so that they had become a necessary part of his life. He had romped with the rest of the young foxes, even up to the coming of Autumn and the fox hunters, so it was no wonder that he now felt lonely.

Somehow he could not understand that they had gone away for good and that he never would see them again, anywhere upon the fox range. True he had seen his mother go head over heels in the snow at the sound