I ever heard of," scolded Granny.

"I'm no more stupid than you are!" retorted Reddy in the most impudent
way.

"What's that?" demanded Granny. "What's that you said?"

"I said I'm no more stupid than you are, and what is more, I hope I'm
not so stupid. I know better than to take a nap in broad daylight right
under the very nose of Farmer Brown's boy." Reddy grinned in the most
impudent way as he said this.

Granny's eyes snapped. Then things happened. Reddy was cuffed this way
and cuffed that way and cuffed the other way until it seemed to him that
the air was full of black paws, every one of which landed on his head
or face with a sting that made him whimper and put his tail between his
legs, and finally howl.

"There!" cried Granny, when at last she had to stop because she was
quite out of breath. "Perhaps that will teach you to be respectful to
your elders. I was careless and stupid, and I am perfectly ready to
admit it, because it has taught me a lesson. Wisdom often is gained
through mistakes, but never when one is not willing to admit the
mistakes. No Fox lives long who makes the same mistake twice. And those
who are impudent to their elders come to no good end. I've got a fat
goose hidden away for dinner, but you will get none of it."

"I--I wish I'd never heard of Granny's mistake," whined Reddy to himself
as he crept dinnerless to bed.

"You ought to wish that you hadn't been impudent," whispered a small
voice down inside him.

CHAPTER XI: After The Storm

The joys and the sunshine that make us glad;
The worries and troubles that makes us sad
Must come to an end; so why complain
Of too little sun or too much rain?
--Old Granny Fox.

The thing to do is to make the most of the sunshine while it lasts, and
when it rains to look forward to the corning of the sun again, knowing
that conic it surely will. A dreadful storm was keeping the little
people of the Green Forest, the Green Meadows, and the Old Orchard
prisoners in their own homes or in such places of shelter as they had
been able to find.

But it couldn't last forever, and they knew it. Knowing this was all
that kept some of them alive.

You see, they were starving. Yes, Sir, they were starving. You and I
would be very hungry, very hungry indeed, if we had to go without food
for two whole days, but if we were snug and warm it wouldn't do us any
real harm. With the little wild friends, especially the little feathered
f