WHAT HAPPENED TO BOWSER
When a Coyote seems most honest, watch him closest.
_Bowser the Hound._
Bowser was very, very tired. He wouldn't admit it even to himself, for
when he is hunting he will keep on until he drops if his wonderful nose
can still catch the scent of the one he is following. Bowser is
wonderfully persistent. So, though he was very, very tired, he kept his
nose to the ground and tried to run even faster, for the scent of Old
Man Coyote was so strong that Bowser felt sure he would soon catch him.
Bowser didn't look to see where he was going. He didn't care. It was
enough for him to know that Old Man Coyote had gone that way, and where
Old Man Coyote could go Bowser felt sure he could follow. So, still
baying with all his might and making the hills ring with the sound of
his great voice, Bowser kept on.
Hidden in a little thicket, stretched out so that he might rest better,
Old Man Coyote listened to that great voice drawing nearer and nearer.
There was a wicked grin on Old Man Coyote's face, and in his yellow eyes
a look of great eagerness. In a few minutes Bowser came in sight, his
nose in the trail Old Man Coyote had left. Into Bowser's voice crept a
new note of eagerness as his nose picked up the scent stronger than
ever. Straight on he raced and it seemed as if he had gained new
strength. His whole thought was on just one thing--catching Old Man
Coyote, and Old Man Coyote knew it.
Bowser didn't see that he was coming to a steep bank. He didn't see it
at all until he reached the edge of it, and then he was going so fast
that he couldn't stop. Over he went with a frightened yelp! Down, down
he fell, and landed with a thump on the ice below. He landed so hard
that he broke the ice, and went through into the cold, black water.
Old Man Coyote crept to the edge of the bank and peeped over. Poor
Bowser was having a terrible time. You see, the cold water had taken
what little breath his fall had not knocked out of him. He doesn't like
to go in water anyway. You know the hair of his coat is short and
doesn't protect him as it would if it were long. Old Man Coyote grinned
wickedly as he watched Bowser struggling feebly to climb out on the ice.
Each time he tried he slipped back, and all the time he was whimpering.
Old Man Coyote grinned more wickedly than ever. I suspect that he hoped
that Bowser would not be able to get out. But after a little Bowser did
manage to crawl out, and stood on the ice, shivering shaking. Once more
Old Man Coyote grinned, then, turning, he trotted back towards Farmer
Follow a crooked trail and you will find a scamp at the end.
_Bowser the Hound._
Poor Bowser! He stood shivering and shaking on the ice of the strange
river to which Old Man Coyote had led him, and he knew not which way to
turn. Not only was he shivering and shaking from his cold bath, but he
was bruised by his fall from the top of the steep bank, and he was so
tired by his long run after Old Man Coyote that he could hardly stand.
Old Man Coyote had stayed only long enough to see that Bowser had
managed to get out of the water, then had turned back towards the Old
Pasture, the Green Meadows and the Green Forest near Farmer Brown's. You
see, Old Man Coyote knew the way back. He would take his time about
getting there, for it really made no particular difference to him when
he reached home. He felt sure he would be able to find something to eat
on the way.
But with Bowser it was very different. Poor Bowser didn't know where he
was. It would have been bad enough under any circumstances to have been
lost, but to be lost and at the same time tired almost to death, bruised
and lame, wet and chilled through, was almost too much to bear. He
hadn't the least idea which way to turn. He couldn't climb up the bank
to find his own trail and follow it back home if he wanted to. You see,
that bank was very steep for some distance in each direction, and so it
was impossible for Bowser to climb it.
For a few minutes he stood shivering, shaking and whimpering, not
knowing which way to turn. Then he started down the river on the ice,
for he knew he would freeze if he continued to stand still. He limped
badly because one leg had been hurt in his fall. After a while he came
to a place where he could get up on the bank. It was in the midst of
deep woods and a very, very lonely place. Hard crusted snow covered the
ground, but it was better than walking on the ice and for this Bowser
Which way should he turn? Where should he go? Night was coming on; he
was wet, cold and hungry, and as utterly lost as ever a dog was. Poor
Bowser! For a minute or two he sat down and howled from sheer
lonesomeness and discouragement. How he did wish he had left Old Man
Coyote alone! How he did long for his snug, warm, little house in Farmer
Brown's dooryard, and for the good meal he knew was awaiting him there.
Now that the excitement of the hunt was over, he realized how very, very
hungry he was, and he began to wonder where he would be able to get
anything to eat. Do you wonder that he howled?
Old Man Coyote, trotting along on his way home, heard that howl and
understood it. Again he grinned that wicked grin of his, and stopped to
listen. "I don't think he'll hunt me again in a hurry," he muttered,
then trotted on. Poor Bowser! Hunting for anything but his home was
farthest from his thoughts.
HOW BLACKY THE CROW HELPED BOWSER
The blackest coat may cover the kindest heart.
_Bowser the Hound._
When Blacky the Crow said to himself that he guessed he would take pity
on Bowser and help him out of his trouble, he knew that he could do it
without very much trouble to himself. Perhaps if there had been very
much trouble in it, Blacky would not have been quite so ready and
willing. Then again, perhaps it isn't fair to Blacky to think that he
might not have been willing. Even the most selfish people are sometimes
kindly and unselfish.
Blacky knew just where the nearest house was. You can always trust
Blacky to know not only where every house is within sight of the places
he frequents, but all about the people who live in each house. Blacky
makes it his business to know these things. He could, if he would, tell
you which houses have terrible guns in them and which have not. It is by
knowing such things that Blacky manages to avoid danger.
"If that dog knows enough to follow me, I'll take him where he can at
least get something to eat," muttered Blacky. "It won't be far out of my
way, anyway, because if he has any sense at all, I won't have to go all
the way over there."
So Blacky spread his black wings and disappeared over the tree-tops in
the direction of the nearest farmhouse.
Bowser watched him disappear and whined sadly, for somehow it made him
feel more lonesome than before. But for one thing he would have gone
back to his bed of hay in the corner of that sugar camp. That one thing
was hunger. It seemed to Bowser that his stomach was so empty that the
very sides of it had fallen in. He just _must_ get something to eat.
So, after waiting a moment or two, Bowser turned and limped away
through the trees, and he limped in the direction which Blacky the Crow
had taken. You see, he could still hear Blacky's voice calling "Caw,
caw, caw", and somehow it made him feel better, less lonesome, you know,
to be within hearing of a voice he knew.
Bowser had to go on three legs, for one leg had been so hurt in the fall
over the bank that he could not put his foot to the ground. Then, too,
he was very, very stiff from the cold and the wetting he had received
the night before. So poor Bowser made slow work of it, and Blacky the
Crow almost lost patience waiting for him to appear.
As soon as Bowser came in sight, Blacky gave what was intended for a
cheery caw and then headed straight for the place he had started for
that morning, giving no more thought to Bowser the Hound. You see, he
knew that Bowser would shortly come to a road. "If he doesn't know
enough to follow that road, he deserves to starve," thought Blacky.
Bowser did know enough to follow that road. The instant he saw that
road, he knew that if he kept on following it, it would lead him
somewhere. So with new hope in his heart, Bowser limped along.
OLD MAN COYOTE GIVES OUT DARK HINTS
A little hint dropped there or here,
Is like a seed in spring of year;
It sprouts and grows, and none may say
How big 'twill be some future day.
_Bowser the Hound._
After leading Bowser the Hound far, far away and getting him lost in
strange country, Old Man Coyote trotted back to the Old Pasture, the
Green Forest, and the Green Meadows near Farmer Brown's. He didn't have
any trouble at all in finding his way back. You see, all the time he was
leading Bowser away, he himself was using his eyes and taking note of
where he was going. You can't lose Old Man Coyote. No, Sir, you can't
lose Old Man Coyote, and it is of no use to try.
So, stopping two or three times to hunt a little by the way, Old Man
Coyote trotted back. He managed to pick up a good meal on the way, and
when at last he reached his home in the Old Pasture he was feeling very
well satisfied with the Great World in general and himself in
He grinned as only Old Man Coyote can grin. "I don't think any of us
will be bothered by that meddlesome Bowser very soon again," said he, as
he crept into his house for a nap. "If he had drowned in that river, I
shouldn't have cried over it. But even as it is, I don't think he will
get back here in a hurry. I must pass the word along."
So a day or so later, when Sammy Jay happened along, Old Man Coyote
asked him, in quite a matter-of-fact way, if he had seen anything of
Bowser the Hound for a day or two.
"Why do you ask?" said Sammy sharply.
Old Man Coyote grinned slyly. "For no reason at all, Sammy. For no
reason at all," he replied. "It just popped into my head that I hadn't
heard Bowser's voice for two or three days. It set me to wondering if he
is sick, or if anything has happened to him."
That was enough to start Sammy Jay straight for Farmer Brown's dooryard.
Of course Bowser wasn't to be seen. Sammy hung around and watched. Twice
he saw Farmer Brown's boy come to the door with a worried look on his
face and heard him whistle and call for Bowser. Then there wasn't the
slightest doubt in Sammy's mind that something had happened to Bowser.
"Old Man Coyote knows something about it, too," muttered Sammy, as he
turned his head on one side and scratched his pointed cap thoughtfully.
"He can't fool me. That old rascal knows where Bowser is, or what has
happened to him, and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he had something
to do with it. I almost know he did from the way he grinned."
The day was not half over before all through the Green Forest and over
the Green Meadows had spread the report that Bowser the Hound was no
REDDY'S FORLORN CHANCE
This saying is both true and terse:
There's nothing bad but might be worse.
_Bowser the Hound._
If any one had said this to Reddy Fox during the first half hour after
he discovered that he was a prisoner in Farmer Brown's henyard, he
wouldn't have believed it. He wouldn't have believed a word of it. He
would have said that he couldn't possibly have been worse off than he
He was a prisoner, and he couldn't possibly get out. He knew that in the
morning Farmer Brown's boy would certainly discover him. It couldn't be
otherwise. That is, it couldn't be otherwise as long as he remained in
that henyard. There wasn't a thing, not one solitary thing, under or
behind which he could hide. So, to Reddy's way of thinking, things
couldn't possibly have been worse.
But after a while, having nothing else to do, Reddy began to think. Now
it is surprising how thinking will change matters. One of the first
thoughts that came to Reddy was that he might have been caught in a
trap,--one of those cruel traps that close like a pair of jaws and
sometimes break the bones of the foot or leg, and from which there is
no escape. Right away Reddy realized that to have been so caught would
have been much worse than being a prisoner in Farmer Brown's henyard.
This made him feel just a wee, wee bit better, and he began to do some
For a long time his thinking didn't help him in the least. At last,
however, he remembered the chicken dinner he had felt so sure he was
going to enjoy. The thought of the chicken dinner reminded him that
inside the henhouse it was dark. He had been inside that henhouse
before, and he knew that there were boxes in there. If he were inside
the henhouse, it might be, it just might possibly be, that he could
hide when Farmer Brown's boy came in the morning.
So once more Reddy went to work at that little sliding door where the
hens ran in and out during the day. He already had found out that it
wasn't fastened, and he felt sure that with patience he could open it.
So he worked away and worked away, until at last there was a little
crack. He got his claws in the little crack and pulled and pulled. The
little crack became a little wider. By and by it was wide enough for him
to get his whole paw in. Then it became wide enough for him to get his
head half in. After this, all he had to do was to force himself
through, for as he pushed and shoved, the little door opened. He was
inside at last! There was a chance, just a forlorn chance, that he might
be able to escape the notice of Farmer Brown's boy in the morning.
BOWSER'S GREAT VOICE
To long for home when far away
Will rob of joy the brightest day.
_Bowser the Hound._
There is as much difference in the voices of dogs as in the voices of
human beings. For that matter, this is true of many of the little people
who wear fur. Bowser the Hound had a wonderful, deep, clear voice, a
voice that could be heard a great distance. No one who knew it would
ever mistake it for the voice of any other Hound.
As a rule, Bowser seldom used that great voice of his save when he was
hunting some one. Then, when the scent was strong, he gave tongue so
fast that you wondered how he had breath enough left to run. But now
that he was a prisoner of kindness, in the home of the people who had
taken him in when he had crept to their doorstep, Bowser sometimes bayed
from sheer homesickness. When he was tied out in the yard, he would
sometimes get to thinking of his home and long to see Farmer Brown and
Mrs. Brown and especially his master, Farmer Brown's boy. Then, when he
could stand it no longer, he would open his mouth and send his great
voice rolling across to the woods with a tone of mournfulness which
never had been there before.
But great as was Bowser's voice, and far as it would carry, there was
none who knew him to hear it, save Blacky the Crow. You remember that
Blacky knew just where Bowser was and often flew over that farmyard to
make sure that Bowser was still there. So more than once Blacky heard
Bowser's great voice with its mournful note, and understood it.
It troubled Blacky. Yes, Sir, it actually troubled Blacky. He knew just
what was the matter with Bowser, but for the life of him he couldn't
think of any way of helping Bowser. "That dog is homesick," croaked
Blacky, as he sat in the top of a tall tree, scratching his head as if
he thought he might scratch an idea out of it. "Of course he doesn't
know how to get home, and if he tried he probably would get as badly
lost as he was before. Anyway, they don't give him a chance to try. I
can't lead Farmer Brown's boy over here because he doesn't understand my
talk, and I don't understand his. There isn't a thing I can do but keep
watch. I wish Bowser would stop barking. It makes me feel uncomfortable.
Yes, Sir, it makes me feel uncomfortable. Old Man Coyote got Bowser into
this trouble, and he ought to get him out again, but I don't suppose it
is the least bit of use to ask him. It won't do any harm to try,
So Blacky started back for the Green Forest and the Old Pasture near
Farmer Brown's to look for Old Man Coyote, and for a long time as he
flew he could hear Bowser's voice with its note of homesickness and
RED WITS AND BLACK WITS
This fact you'll find is always so:
He's quick of wit who fools a Crow.
_Bowser the Hound._
There is no greater flatterer in the Green Forest or on the Green
Meadows than Blacky the Crow when he hopes to gain something thereby.
His tongue is so smooth that it is a wonder it does not drip oil. He is
crafty, is Blacky. But these same things are true of Reddy Fox. No one
ever yet had a chance to accuse Reddy Fox of lacking in sharp wits.
Mistakes he makes, as everybody does, but Reddy's wits are always keen
Now Reddy knew perfectly well that Blacky wanted something of him, and
this was why he was saying such pleasant things. Blacky the Crow knew
that Reddy knew this thing, and that if he would make use of Reddy as he
hoped to, he must contrive to keep Reddy wholly in the dark as to what
he wanted done.
So as they sat there, Reddy Fox on the snow with his tail curled around
his feet to keep them warm, and Blacky the Crow in the top of a little
tree above Reddy's head, they were playing a sort of game. It was red
wits against black wits. Reddy was trying to outguess Blacky, and
Blacky was trying to outguess Reddy, and both were enjoying it. People
with sharp wits always enjoy matching their wits against other sharp
When Reddy Fox said that in spite of his fine appearance he had
forgotten when last he had had a good meal, Blacky pretended to think he
was joking. "You surprise me," said he. "Whatever is the matter with my
good friend Reddy, that he goes hungry when he no longer has anything to
fear from Bowser the Hound. By the way, I saw Bowser the other day."
At this, just for an instant, Reddy's eyes flew wide open. Then they
half closed again until they were just two yellow slits. But quickly as
he closed them, Blacky had seen that startled surprise. "Yes," said
Blacky, "I saw Bowser the other day, or at least some one who looked
just like him. Wouldn't you like to have him back here, Reddy?"
"Most decidedly no," replied Reddy with great promptness. "A dog is a
nuisance. He isn't of any use in the wide, wide world."
"Not even to drive off Old Man Coyote?" asked Blacky slyly, for he knew
that more than once Bowser the Hound had helped Reddy out of trouble
with Old Man Coyote.
Reddy pretended not to hear this. "I don't believe you saw Bowser,"
said he. "I don't believe anybody will ever see Bowser again. I hope
not, anyway." And Blacky knew by the way Reddy said this that it would
be quite useless to ask Reddy to help get Bowser home.
REDDY TRIES TO AROUSE BLACKY'S PITY
Trust a Fox only as far as you can see him, and lock the
chickens up before you do that.
_Bowser the Hound._
All the next night, as Reddy Fox hunted and hunted for something to eat,
he kept thinking of that dream of fat hens, and he kept wondering how he
could get Blacky the Crow to tell him just where that farm with fat hens
was. Blacky on his part had spent a whole day wondering how he could
induce Reddy Fox to make that long journey over to where Bowser the
Hound was a prisoner of kindness. Blacky was smart enough to know that
if he seemed too anxious for Reddy to make that long journey, Reddy
would at once suspect something. He knew well enough that if Reddy had
any idea that Bowser the Hound was over there, nothing would tempt him
to make the trip.
Early the next morning, just as on the morning before, Blacky stopped
over by Reddy's house. This time Reddy was already home. Actually he was
waiting for Blacky, though he wouldn't have had Blacky know it for the
world. As soon as he saw Blacky coming, he lay down on his doorstep and
pretended not to see Blacky at all.
"Good morning, Reddy," said Blacky, as he alighted in the top of a
little tree close by.
Reddy raised his head as if it were all he could do to lift it. "Good
morning, Blacky," said he in a feeble voice.
Blacky looked at him sharply. "What's the matter, Reddy?" he demanded.
"You seem to be feeling badly."
Reddy sighed. It was a long, doleful sigh. "I am feeling badly, Blacky,"
said he. "I never felt worse in my life. The truth is I--I--I--" Reddy
"You what?" demanded Blacky, looking at Reddy more sharply than ever.
"I am starving," said Reddy very feebly. "I certainly shall starve to
death unless I can find some way of getting at least one good meal soon.
You have no idea, Blacky, how dreadful it is to be hungry all the time."
Again Reddy sighed, and followed this with a second sigh and then a
Blacky looked behind him so that Reddy might not see the twinkle in his
eyes. For Blacky understood perfectly what Reddy was trying to do. Reddy
wasn't fooling him a bit. When he looked back at Reddy he was very
grave. He was doing his best to look very sympathetic.
"I'm right sorry to hear this, Reddy," said he. "I certainly am. I've
been hungry myself more than once. It seems a pity that you should be
starving here when over on that farm I told you about yesterday are fat
hens to be had for the taking. If you were not so weak, I would be
tempted to show you where they are."
BLACKY THE CROW IS ALL PITY
People who think that they are fooling others very often
discover that they have been fooling themselves.
_Bowser the Hound._
To have seen and heard Blacky the Crow as he talked to Reddy Fox, you
would have thought that there was nothing under the sun in his heart or
mind but pity. "Yes, Sir," said he, "I certainly would be tempted to
show you where those fat hens are if you were not too weak. I just can't
bear to see an old friend starve. It is too bad that those fat hens are
so far away. I feel sure that one of them would make you quite yourself
"Don't--don't talk about them," said Reddy feebly. "If I could have just
one fat hen that is all I would ask. Are they so very far from here?"
Blacky nodded his head vigorously. "Yes," said he, "they are a long way
from here. They are such a long way that I'm afraid you are too weak to
make the journey. If you were quite yourself you could do it nicely, but
for one in your condition it is, I fear, altogether too long a journey."
"It wouldn't do any harm to try it, perhaps," suggested Reddy, in a
hesitating way. "It is no worse to starve to death in one place than
another, and I never was one to give up without trying. If you don't
mind showing me the way, Brother Blacky, I would at least like to try to
reach that place where the fat hens are. Of course I cannot keep up with
you. In fact, I couldn't if I were feeling well and strong. Perhaps you
can tell me just how to find that place, and then I needn't bother you
Blacky pretended to be lost in thought while Reddy watched him
anxiously. Finally Blacky spoke. "It certainly makes my heart ache to
see you in such a condition, Brother Reddy," said he. "I tell you what
I'll do. You know Crows are famous for flying in a straight line when we
want to get to any place in particular. I will fly straight towards that
farm where the fat hens are. You follow along as best you can. In your
feeble condition it will take you a long time to get anywhere near
there. This will give me time to go hunt for my own dinner, and then I
will come back until I meet you. After that, I will show you the way.
Now I will start along and you follow."
Reddy got to his feet as if it were hard work. Then Blacky spread his
wings and started off, cawing encouragement. All the time inside he was
laughing to think that Reddy Fox should think he had fooled him. "He
forgot to ask again if there is a dog there," chuckled Blacky to
As for Reddy, no sooner was Blacky well on his way than he started off
at his swiftest pace. There was nothing weak or feeble in the way Reddy
ran then. He was in a hurry to get to those fat hens.
THINGS HAPPEN ALL AT ONCE
The cleverest Fox is almost certain to visit the chicken yard
once too often.
_Bowser the Hound._
Jolly, round, bright Mr. Sun, high in the blue, blue sky, looked down on
as peaceful a scene as ever was. In the cowyard back of the barn of this
particular farm stood several cows contentedly chewing their cuds as
they took their daily airing. Half a dozen fat hens were walking about
among them and scratching in the straw. Out in the farmyard in front of
the barn were many more fat hens. Behind a pile of old boards just
outside the cowyard was a spot of red. In the top of a tall tree not far
distant was a spot of black. The smoke from the chimney of the farmhouse
floated skyward in a lazy way. Looking down on the Great World, jolly,
round, bright Mr. Sun saw no more peaceful scene anywhere.
By and by a fat hen walked over to the bars of the cowyard and hopped up
on the lower bar. There she sat for some time. Then, making up her mind
that she would see what was outside, she hopped down and walked over to
the pile of old boards. Right then things happened all at once. That red
spot behind the pile of old boards suddenly came to life. There was a
quick spring, and that fat hen was seized by the neck so suddenly that
she didn't have time to make a sound. At the same instant the black spot
in the top of the tall tree came to life, and Blacky the Crow flew over
to the roof of the barn, screaming at the top of his lungs. Now those
who know Blacky well, know when he is screaming "Fox! Fox! Fox!"
although it sounds as if he were saying "Caw! Caw! Caw!"
In a moment the door of the farmhouse flew open, and a man stepped out
with a dog at his heels. The man looked up at Blacky, and he knew by
Blacky's actions that something was going on back of the barn. Right
away he guessed that there must be a Fox there, and calling the dog to
follow, he ran around to see what was happening. Of course Reddy heard
him coming, and with a little snarl of anger at Blacky the Crow, he
seized the fat hen by the neck, threw her body over his shoulder, and
started for the near-by swamp as fast as his legs could take him.
Just as Reddy reached the edge of the swamp, he heard the roar of a
great voice behind him. He knew that voice. It was the voice of Bowser
the Hound. It could be no one else but Bowser who was behind him, for
there was no other voice quite like his. Dismay awoke in Reddy's heart.
He knew that Bowser was wise to the tricks of Foxes, and that he would
have to use all his cunning to get rid of Bowser. To do it he would have
to drop that fat hen he had come so far to get. Do you wonder that Reddy
ALL IS WELL THAT ENDS WELL
When things go wrong, just patient be
Until the end you plainly see.
For often things that seem all bad
Will end by making all hands glad.
_Bowser the Hound._
Reddy Fox, trotting homeward, had nothing but bitterness in his heart,
and nothing at all in his stomach. He was tired and hungry and bitterly
disappointed. He was in a country with which he was not familiar, and so
he did not know where to hunt, and he felt that he just must get
something to eat. Do what he would, he couldn't help thinking about
that fat hen he had hidden and which had so mysteriously disappeared.
The more he thought of it, the worse he felt. It was bad enough to be
hungry and have no idea where the next meal was coming from, but it was
many times worse to have had that meal and then lose it. To Reddy,
everything was all wrong.
Now on his way home Ready had to pass several farms. Hunger made him
bold, and at each farm he stole softly as near as possible to the
farmyard, hoping that he might find more fat hens unguarded. Now it
happened that that afternoon a farmer at one of these farms was
preparing some chickens to be taken to market early the next morning. He
was picking these chickens in a shed attached to the barn. He had
several all picked when he was called to the house on an errand.
It happened that just after he had disappeared Reddy Fox came stealing
around from behind the barn, and at once he smelled those chickens. Just
imagine how Reddy felt when he peeped in that shed and saw those fine
chickens just waiting for him. Two minutes later Reddy was racing back
to the woods with one of them. This time there was no dog behind him.
And in a little hollow Reddy ate the finest dinner he ever had had. You
see there were no feathers to bother him on that chicken, for it had
been picked. When the last bit had disappeared, Reddy once more started
for home, and this time he was happy, for his stomach was full.
Long before Reddy got back to the Old Pasture Farmer Brown's boy and
Bowser the Hound had reached home. Such a fuss as everybody did make
over Bowser. It seemed as if each one at Farmer Brown's was trying to
spoil Bowser. As for Bowser himself, he was the happiest dog in all the
Blacky the Crow got back to the Green Forest near Farmer Brown's just
before jolly, round Mr. Sun went to bed. Blacky had found plenty to eat
and he had seen no more of fierce Mr. Goshawk. As Blacky settled himself
on his roost he heard from the direction of Farmer Brown's house a great
voice. It was the voice of Bowser the Hound trying to express his joy in
being home. Blacky chuckled contentedly. He, too, was happy, for it
always makes one happy to have one's plans succeed.
"All's well that end's well," he chuckled, and closed his eyes sleepily.
Blacky never could have fooled old Granny Fox as he did Reddy. She is
far too smart to be fooled even by so clever a scamp as Blacky. She is
so smart that she deserves a book all her own, and so the next volume in
this series will be Old Granny Fox.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bowser The Hound, by Thornton W. Burgess
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