“My goodness alive!  Who’s there?” cried Dr. Pigg.

“It’s me,” answered a voice.

“And who, pray tell, may you be?” asked Dr. Pigg.

“I’m a bad tramp fox,” was the answer, “and I want you to give me something to eat.  Quick!  I’m in a hurry!”

Now that wasn’t a nice way to speak, and Dr. Pigg knew it, and, what is more, that bad fox knew it, too.  But, do you s’pose he cared?  Not a bit of it.  He was as impolite as he could be, and he took pride in it.

“I want something to eat in a hurry,” he went on, in a coarse, grumbly voice, and he was such a big fox, and Dr. Pigg was such a nice, gentle kind of a creature that he didn’t dare refuse him.

“Very well,” said Buddy’s papa, “step into the parlor, Mr. Fox, and I’ll see what I can do for you.  There ought to be something in the pantry.”

So he went to look in the pantry for a bone, or something like that, just as Mother Hubbard would have done, you know, and when the fox went in the parlor what do you suppose he saw?  Why, that big, red firecracker on the mantle, of course.  And when he saw it a wicked plan came into his head.

“I’ll just light that,” he thought to himself, “and it will blow this pen up, and Dr. Pigg with it.  Then I can take anything I want.  That’s what I’ll do.  I’ll blow the place up!”

Then he lighted the string of the firecracker, standing up on his hind legs to reach it, you see, and, as it was a long string, the fox knew it would burn some time before it would explode the firecracker.  So the fox ran out into the kitchen, where Dr. Pigg was getting him something to eat, and he cried: 

“Here, give me what you have ready, I can’t wait.”

“You must be in a hurry,” replied Dr. Pigg, as he gave the fox some bread and meat and cold potatoes.  And of course the fox was in a hurry, for he wanted to get out of the way before that firecracker went off and blew the house up.

Then the fox ran and hid in the bushes, waiting for the house and Dr. Pigg to be blown up, so he could go in and take whatever he wanted.  The string on the firecracker burned slowly, but surely.  And the fox knew it would be a perfectly tremendous explosion, for the firecracker was as big as a hundred lead pencils made into one.

But now watch and see what happens.  After Dr. Pigg had put away the bread and meat, left over after giving the fox some, who should come along but Percival, the old, circus dog.  He came to pay a friendly call on Dr. Pigg, but, no sooner had he reached the front door than he cried out: 

“Oh, I smell something burning,” and, sure enough it was the firecracker string sizzling away.

“Maybe the house is afire,” said Dr. Pigg.  “Let’s look!” So he and Percival went all through the pen, and the first object they saw was the long, rod thing burning on the mantlepiece.  And Percival knew at once what it was, for he was a smart dog, let me tell you.