answered she, "perhaps my cousin would just as soon not have
me come now." So she waited, and the Rat from the other farm told her
wonderful stories of his travels, and they had a very fine supper.

When her cousin began to run around again, he was a much sadder and
wiser Rat. Sometimes the younger Rats would ask him how he lost the tip
of his tail. "By not turning it toward a tempting danger," he would
answer, very solemnly. Then, after he had told them the story, he always
added, "The time to turn your tail toward a tempting danger is the
minute you see it, for if you wait and look and long for something you
ought not to take, there is sure to be trouble, and many a Rat has lost
more than the tip of his tail in just that way."

THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER

There was only one Gobbler on the farm, and he was so used to having his
own way that he never tried to make the best of it when he couldn't, and
sometimes he became exceedingly cross. He was bigger than the Cocks, the
Hens, the Geese, and the Ducks, so when they were in his way and he
gobbled a gruff "Move along," they murmured "Oh, certainly," and
scampered away as fast as their legs would carry them. The Peacock was
larger than the Turkey Gobbler, it is true, but as long as he could sit
on a fence in the sunshine and have somebody admiring his train, he did
not care anything about the Gobbler, and they did not get in each
other's way.

There were seven Hen Turkeys, timid, sweet-tempered people, who were
fond of walking. They had never been known to answer back when the
Gobbler scolded them, although at times he was very unreasonable. This
was polite of them, but it made the Gobbler more careless than ever of
the way in which he spoke. The Black Spanish Hen said it made her
wattles tingle to hear him find fault with them. She wouldn't have stood
it--no, indeed!

When the Black Spanish Cock heard her say so, he shook his feathers and
smiled a queer little smile, and said, "I certainly know that she would
not." The other fowls looked at each other, and the Shanghai Cock winked
his round little eyes at the Dorking Hen, and she had to oil a feather
on the under side of her wing just then, so, of course, nobody saw her
laugh--if she did laugh.

The Black Spanish fowls were kind-hearted and honest, and had fine
manners, but they would not stand it to be spoken to hastily by any one
who was not very much bigger than they, and it was said that the Coc