turned up his nose as he said:

"'I don't give a snap of my claws for all the dogs there are around this
place! Even if four or five of them should come right up here this
minute, it wouldn't bother me any. You may not think it; but Mr. Towser
is actually afraid of me.

"Well now, do you know that made me laugh again, because in the first
place I knew it wasn't true; but what was the use of saying anything of
the kind to him? He was swelled way out with pride, so I changed the
conversation, and began talking about mice, when suddenly there was a
terrible commotion down the lane, and up came Mr. Towser, Miss Spaniel
and four or five other dogs, barking and yelping.

"Oh me, oh my, how frightened I was! Up a tree I scurried as fast as my
legs would carry me, and not until I was safe on the highest limb did I
look around to see Mr. Fox, who didn't care the snap of his claws for
dogs; but, bless you, he was going toward the meadow with his tail
hanging straight out behind him, while the dogs were gaining on him at
every jump. Mr. Towser told me afterward that they made Mr. Fox just
about as sick as Mrs. Toad made the bugs."

"What was it Mrs. Toad did?" your Aunt Amy asked, and Mrs. Mouser
replied with a grin:

"Perhaps you never heard that Mr. Crow is a great hand at making
poetry?"

[Illustration: Mr. Crow.]