to Cedar Swamp Mr. Crow happened to think of something.
He happened to think that Fatty Coon had an enormous appetite and was
very fond of corn.

Mr. Crow suddenly veered off his straight course and alighted in a tree.

"That will never do," he croaked. "Fatty would eat more than all the
Meadow Mice in Pleasant Valley."

Little did Mr. Crow know that Fatty Coon was already planning to visit
the cornfield as soon as it grew dark.

Nor did Master Meadow Mouse and his cousins guess that they were to have
an unwelcome guest that night.

As usual, after dark they poured out of their castles in the air to
enjoy their nightly frolic. And they were having what they called "high
jinks" when the word went around to hide.

For somebody squeaked in a frightened voice: "Fatty Coon is crawling
through the pasture fence!"

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

13

A Moonlight Raid

THE Meadow Mouse party, in the cornfield, vanished as if by magic. Not
one of the merrymakers lingered an instant after hearing that Fatty Coon
was entering the field. And since Master Meadow Mouse happened to be
near the shock where he lived, he ran up it in a twinkling and crept
inside it, to curl up in his nest and try to catch forty winks.

He felt safe enough. Hadn't old Mr. Crow come to the cornfield every
day? _He_ had never even poked into a shock to disturb Master Meadow
Mouse or one of his cousins. Mr. Crow had eaten corn, to be sure. But
he hadn't bothered anybody. And now Master Meadow Mouse thought that as
soon as Fatty Coon had stuffed himself with corn he would stroll back to
Cedar Swamp.

Master Meadow Mouse had fallen into a doze when a sharp rustle waked
him.

"Ho, ho!" he chuckled. "There's Fatty Coon now! He's pulling an ear of
corn off my shock. Well, I don't believe I'll miss it. There's corn
enough in this field for everybody."

Master Meadow Mouse tried to go to sleep again.

"I wish Fatty Coon wouldn't make so much noise," said Master Meadow
Mouse, grumbling a little because he was very drowsy and didn't like to
be disturbed.

"There!" he exclaimed after a few moments. "He's gone, thank goodness!"

But Fatty Coon had only carried his ear of corn to Broad Brook, to wash
it before he gobbled the kernels. He was very particular to wash almost
everything he ate. But that was about the only way in which he was
fussy. There was nothing, almost, that he wouldn't bolt greedily.

After he had devoured the first ea