there could be no greater danger in front than was almost at
his heels, and so, without looking one way or another, he scampered
across the dooryard and up the big maple tree close to the house. Shadow
the Weasel was surprised. He had not dreamed that Happy Jack would come
over here. But Shadow is a bold fellow, and it made little difference to
him where Happy Jack went. At least, that is what he thought.

So he followed Happy Jack across the dooryard and up the maple tree. He
took his time about it, for he knew by the way Happy Jack had run that
he was pretty nearly at the end of his strength. "He never'll get out of
this tree," thought Shadow, as he started to climb it. He fully
expected to find Happy Jack huddled in a miserable little heap somewhere
near the top. Just imagine how surprised he was when he discovered that
Happy Jack wasn't to be seen. He rubbed his angry little red eyes, and
they grew angrier and redder than before.

"Must be a hollow up here somewhere," he muttered. "I'll just follow the
scent of his feet, and that will lead me to him."

But when that scent led him out on a branch the tip of which brushed
against Farmer Brown's house Shadow got another surprise. There was no
sign of Happy Jack. He couldn't have reached the roof. There was no
place he could have gone unless--. Shadow stared across at a window open
about two inches.

"He couldn't have!" muttered Shadow. "He wouldn't dare. He couldn't
have!"

But Happy Jack had. He had gone inside that window.

CHAPTER XXVI

FARMER BROWN'S BOY WAKES WITH A START

Never think another crazy just because it happens you
Never've heard of just the thing that they have started out to do.

_Happy Jack._

Isn't it queer how hard it seems to be for some boys to go to bed at the
proper time and how much harder it is for them to get up in the morning?
It was just so with Farmer Brown's boy. I suppose he wouldn't have been
a real boy if it hadn't been so. Of course, while he was sick with the
mumps, he didn't have to get up, and while he was getting over the
mumps his mother let him sleep as long as he wanted to in the morning.
That was very nice, but it made it all the harder to get up when he
should after he was well again. In summer it wasn't so bad getting up
early, but in winter--well, that was the one thing about winter that
Farmer Brown's boy didn't like.

On this particular morning Farmer Brown had called him, and he had
re