nelling. This is a great advantage, for no dirt or dust can enter to impair their remarkable hearing. No animal that I know of has a finer sense of hearing than the Woodchuck.
Day by day the babies grew and fattened. Old Farmer Hays had the best lettuce for miles around and, as all farmers know, that is the most tempting morsel to excite a Woodchuck's appetite. After the sun sank low and its red fire had burnt itself out in the west, and the still white moon had crept up over the pines like a wraith and sailed away on a silver trail straight through the blue of the heavens, our waddling Woodchucks crept forth by the light of the white moon's lantern, and scuddled under the ferns straight for that luring lettuce patch. The farmer got mad and swore vengeance, but it didn't do any good. They went back again the next night and ate more.
Father Woodchuck had a presentiment that something was going to happen, so he crawled out one morning at the break of day and sat on his haunches on the highest knoll in the vicinity. He espied the farmer busily engaged in a new occupation. It had to do with chains and stakes and
