Page:St. Nicholas, vol. 40.1 (1912-1913).djvu/462

294 his authority, withdrew, haughty and protesting. Young Grumpy followed with a triumphant rush—and, of course, took all the credit to himself.

“This led him into the farm-yard. Here he promptly forgot both the dog and the gander. It was such a strange place, and full of such strange smells. He was about to turn back into the more familiar clover, when, as luck would have it, he stumbled upon a half-eaten carrot which had been dropped by one of the horses. How good it smelled! And then, how good it tasted! Oh, no! the place where such things were to be found was not a place for him to leave in a hurry!

“As he was feasting greedily on the carrot, the Boy appeared, with the white dog at his heels. He did not look nearly so terrible as the gander. So, angry at being disturbed, and thinking he had come for the carrot, Young Grumpy ran at him at once.

“But the Boy did not run away. Surprised at his courage, Young Grumpy stopped short, at a distance of two or three feet from the Boy’s stout shoes, sat up on his haunches with his little. skinny, black hands over his chest, and began to gurgle and squeak harsh threats. The boy laughed, and stretched out a hand to touch him. Young Grumpy snapped so savagely, however, that the Boy snatched back his hand and stood observing him with amused interest, waving off the white dog, lest the latter should interrupt. Young Grumpy went on blustering with his muffled squeaks for perhaps a minute. Then, seeing that the Boy was neither going to run away nor fight, he dropped on all fours indifferently, and returned to his carrot.

“There was nothing pleased the Boy better than seeing the harmless wild creatures get familiar about the place. He went now and fetched a saucer of milk from the dairy, and set it down beside Young Grumpy, who scolded at him, but refused to budge an inch. The yellow cat—an amiable soul, too well fed to hunt even mice with any enthusiasm—followed the Boy, with an interested eye on the saucer. At sight of Young Grumpy, her back went up, her tail grew big as a bottle, and she spat disapprovingly. As the stranger paid her no attention, however, she sidled cautiously up to the milk, and began to lap it.

“The sound of her lapping caught Young Grumpy’s attention. It was an alluring sound. Leaving the remains of his carrot, he came boldly up to the saucer The yellow cat flattened back her ears, growled, and stood her ground till he was within a foot of her. Then, with an angry pf-f-f, she turned tail and fled. The stranger was so calmly sure of himself that she concluded he must be some new kind of skunk—and her respect for all skunks was something tremendous.

“Having finished the milk and the carrot, Young Grumpy felt a pressing need of sleep. Turning his back on the Boy and the dog, as if they were not worth noticing, he ambled off along the garden fence, looking for a convenient hole. The one-eyed gander, who had been watching him with deep disfavor from the distance, seeing that he was now no longer under the protection of the white dog, came stalking up from the other end of the yard to have it out with him—thief of eggs and murderer of goslings, as the wrathful bird mistook him to be! But Young Grumpy, having found a cool-looking hole under the fence, had whisked into it and vanished.

“As matters stood now, Young Grumpy felt himself quite master of the situation. His heartless mother was forgotten. Farm-yard, clover-field, and cool, green garden were all his. Had he not routed all presumptuous enemies but the Boy?—and the latter seemed very harmless.

“It was not till after several days of garden life that, lured by the memory of the carrot, he again visited the barn-yard. At first it seemed to be quite deserted—and there was no sign of a carrot anywhere. Then he caught sight of the yellow cat, and scurried toward her, thinking perhaps it was her fault there were no carrots. She fluffed her tail, gave a yowl of indignation, and scurried into the barn. Neither the white dog, nor the Boy, nor the one-eyed gander, was anywhere in sight. Young Grumpy decided that it was a poor place, the barn-yard, after all.

“He was on the point of turning back to the green abundance of the garden; but, at this point, the one-eyed gander came stalking up from the goose-pond. He was lonely and bad-tempered. Young Grumpy looked at the big, gray bird, and recalled the little unpleasantness of their previous encounter.

“‘Oh, ho!’ said he to himself (1f woodchucks ever do talk to themselves), ‘I ‘ll just give that ugly chap beans, as I did the other day.’ And he went scurrying across the yard to see about it.

“To his immense surprise, the gander at first paid him no attention whatever. You see, he was on the side of the gander’s blind eye.

“Now Young Grumpy was so puzzled by this indifference that, instead of rushing right in and biting the haughty bird, he sat up on his haunches at a distance of some five or six feet, and began to squeak his defiance. The gander turned his head, and stared for about three seconds. Then he opened his long, yellow bill, gave vent to a hiss like the blowing off of an escape pipe, stuck out