independent people, he did not always consider the rights of
others. Indeed, it was hinted in the wood and on the Green
Meadows that not all of Jimmy Skunk's doings would bear the light
of day. It was openly said that he was altogether too fond of
prowling about at night, but no one could prove that he was
responsible for mischief done in the night, for no one saw him.
You see his coat was so black that in the darkness of the night
it was not visible at all.

Now about this time of which I am telling you Mrs. Ruffed Grouse
made a nest at the foot of the Great Pine and in it she laid
fifteen beautiful buff eggs. Mrs. Grouse was very happy, very
happy indeed, and all the little meadow folks who knew of her
happiness were happy too, for they all loved shy, demure, little
Mrs. Grouse. Every morning when Peter Rabbit trotted down the
Lone Little Path through the wood past the Great Pine he would
stop for a few minutes to chat with Mrs. Grouse. Happy Jack
Squirrel would bring her the news every afternoon. The Merry
Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind would run up a dozen times
a day to see how she was getting along.

One morning Peter Rabbit, coming down the Lone Little Path for
his usual morning call, found a terrible state of affairs. Poor
little Mrs. Grouse was heart-broken. All about the foot of the
Great Pine lay the empty shells of her beautiful eggs. They had
been broken and scattered this way and that.

"How did it happen?" asked Peter Rabbit.

"I don't know," sobbed poor little Mrs. Grouse. "In the night