The Tale of Dickie Deer Mouse | Page 7

Dickie
Deer Mouse began to feel better. He knew that Fatty Coon would not
leave that place of plenty until he had filled himself almost to bursting
with tender young corn.
After Dickie had eaten a few seeds that he found under the trees, as
well as a plump bug that was hiding beneath a log, he actually told

himself that he was glad he had met Fatty Coon in the cornfield.
"Now that he has talked with me," Dickie reasoned, "he won't trouble
himself to come to my house when old Mr. Crow tells him where I
live."
That thought was a great comfort to him. Ever since he had waked up
and heard Mr. Crow and Jasper Jay talking outside his house he had felt
most uneasy. If Mr. Crow was going to guide Fatty Coon to his new
home, Dickie hardly thought it safe to stay there any longer.
But now he was sure that that danger was past. Fatty had given him his
warning. And Dickie had no doubt that so long as he kept away from
the corn his greedy neighbor would never bother to disturb him.
So instead of quitting his snug home--as he had feared he must--he
went back to it to finish his nap.
Now, Dickie Deer Mouse had lost so much sleep--through being
disturbed by Mr. Crow and Jasper Jay--that when night came he kept
right on sleeping. Yes! Instead of joining his friends in a mad scamper
through the woods in the moonlight, Dickie Deer Mouse slept on and
on and on, until--something shook the small tree where he lived and
made it sway as if an earthquake had come.
Dickie Deer Mouse roused himself with a start. His sharp ears caught a
scratching sound. And sticking his head through his doorway, he
looked out.
One quick glance told him what was happening. That pudgy rascal,
Fatty Coon, was climbing the tree! And every moment brought him
nearer and nearer to Dickie's house.
Dickie's big, black eyes bulged more than ever as he whisked out of his
house and scampered to the top of the tree, where the branches were so
small that Fatty Coon could never follow him.
"Stop!" Fatty Coon cried. "Mr. Crow told me where I could find you.

And I want to have a word with you."
"What sort of word?" Dickie Deer Mouse inquired.
"It's about the cornfield," Fatty Coon explained.
"I haven't been near that place since you last saw me there," Dickie
declared.
"I know you haven't," Fatty told him. "That's just why I want to have a
word with you. I'm in a peck of trouble. And I want you to help me."
Dickie Deer Mouse could scarcely believe it. But being a very polite
young gentleman, he told Fatty that he would be glad to do anything in
his power to assist him--or at least, anything except to come down out
of the top of the tree.
[Illustration]

[Illustration]
X
A BIT OF ADVICE
"It's like this," Fatty Coon said, puffing a bit--on account of his
climb--as he looked up at Dickie Deer Mouse. "Old Mr. Crow says that
Farmer Green is going to sick old dog Spot on me if I don't keep out of
the cornfield."
"Well, I should say it was very kind of Mr. Crow to tell you," Dickie
remarked.
Fatty Coon was not so sure of that.
"He'd like to have the cornfield to himself," he told Dickie. "He'd like
nothing better than to keep me out of it. And if old dog Spot is coming

there after me, I certainly don't want to go near the place again."
"Then I'd stay away, if I were you," Dickie Deer Mouse told him.
"Ah! That's just the trouble!" Fatty Coon cried. "I can't! I'm too fond of
corn. And that's why I've come here to have a word with you," he went
on. "I've noticed that you haven't set foot in the cornfield since I spoke
to you over there in the middle of the day. And I want you to tell me
how you manage to stay away."
"Something seems to pull me right away from it," Dickie Deer Mouse
told him.
Fatty Coon groaned.
"Something seems to pull me towards the corn!" he wailed.
Dickie Deer Mouse couldn't help feeling sorry for him.
"If there was only something else that you liked better than green corn,"
he said, "perhaps it would help you to keep away from this new
danger."
"But there isn't!" Fatty Coon exclaimed.
"Have you ever tried horns?" Dickie Deer Mouse asked him.
Fatty Coon looked puzzled.
"What kind?" he asked his small friend.
"Deer's!" Dickie explained. "You know they drop them in the woods
sometimes. I've had many a meal off deer's horns.