"You mustn't interrupt me, Posy," said Tom. "I said there was once a hedgehog who lived in a little hole in the woods."
"But it couldn't, you know," said Posy, with a perplexed expression.
"He could and he did," continued Tom decidedly; "and one day he started out for a walk—"
"Why, Tom," said Posy earnestly, "how could a hedgehog take a walk? A hedgehog is a kind of barrel, you know."
"You mean hogshead," said Tom; "what a little goosie you are, Posy! But no matter," he continued, as Posy's cheeks flushed at her mistake; "the hedgehog started out for a walk one morning, and before he'd gone very far he met an old fox who lived in a ledge of rocks near by. 'Good-morning, sir,' said Mr. Fox, 'this is a fine morning to be out'—"
"Tom," said Posy suddenly, "I do believe
