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Well, next morn when the 'possum and 'coon passed along
They could see at the raven's that something was wrong,
For no blue curling smoke from the chimney-top came;
So they opened his door and they called out his name,
And they entered inside, and behold! on the floor
Was the greedy old raven, but greedy no more:
For his heart it was still--not a flutter was there--
And his toes were turned up and the table was bare;
Now his epitaph tells to the whole country-side
How he ate, and he ate, and he ate till he died.

When Mr. Crow finished, Mr. Rabbit said it was certainly an interesting
poem, and if he just had a chance now to eat till he died he'd take it,
and Mr. 'Coon said he'd give anything to know how that pie had tasted,
and he didn't see how any _one_ pie could be big enough to kill anybody
that felt as hungry as _he_ did now. And Mr. 'Possum didn't say much of
anything, but only seemed drowsy and peaceful-like, which was curious
for _him_ as things were.

Well, all that day, and the next day, and the next, there wasn't
anything to eat, and they sat as close as they could around the little
fire and wished they'd saved some of the big logs and some of the food,
too, that they had used up so fast when they thought the big snow would
go away. And the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf got louder and louder, and he
began to gnaw, too, and they all heard it, day and night--all except Mr.
'Possum, who said he didn't know why, but that for some reason he
couldn't hear a sound like that at all, which was _very_ strange,
indeed.

But there was something else about Mr. 'Possum that was strange. He
didn't get any thinner. All the others began to show the change right
away, but Mr. 'Possum still looked the same, and still kept cheerful,
and stepped around as lively as ever, and that was _very strange_.

By-and-by, when Mr. 'Possum had gone down-stairs for some barrel staves
to burn, for the wood was all gone, Mr. Rabbit spoke of it, and said he
couldn't understand it; and then Mr. 'Coon, who had been thinking about
it too, said he wondered why it sometimes took Mr. 'Possum so long to
get a little bit of wood. Then they all remembered how Mr. Possum had
stayed so long down-stairs whenever he went, even before Old Hungry-Wolf
came to the Hollow Tree, and they couldn't understand it _at all_.

And just then Mr. 'Possum came up with two little barrel staves which he
had been a long time getting, and they al