"I have indeed," your Aunt Amy replied, and it was only with difficulty
she prevented herself from laughing aloud. "I have heard of his poetry
from every bird and animal around this farm."

[Illustration: Mr. Fox forgets how bold he was as the dogs chase him
through the field.]




A WET-WEATHER PARTY.


"Then perhaps you don't care to hear any more?" Mrs. Mouser said
inquiringly.

"Indeed I do," your Aunt Amy replied, "if it is anything new, and I
surely have never heard of a wet-weather party."

[Illustration: Mr. and Miss Cricket.]

Mrs. Mouser stroked her whiskers a moment, and then began to repeat the
following:

A little Black Ant was journeying home
From a marketing visit to town,
When down came the ram, pitter-patter, so fast,
It threatened to spoil her best gown.

She wandered about till she quite lost her way,