“Of course there is a reason,” asserted Johnny Chuck, chewing the end of a blade of grass.

“There’s a reason for everything,” added Striped Chipmunk, combing out the hair of his funny little tail.

“Then of course Grandfather Frog knows it,” said Peter.

“Of course!  Why didn’t we think of him before?” exclaimed the others.

“I’ll beat you to the Smiling Pool!” shouted Peter.

Of course he did, for his legs are long and made for running, but Striped Chipmunk was not far behind.  Johnny Chuck took his time, for he knew that he could not keep up with the others.  Besides he was so fat that to run made him puff and blow.  Grandfather Frog sat just as usual on his big green lily-pad, and he grinned when he saw who his visitors were, for he guessed right away what they had come for.

“Chug-a-rum!  What is it you want to know now?” he demanded, before Peter could fairly get his breath.

“If you please, Grandfather Frog, we want to know why it is that Unc’ Billy Possum plays dead,” replied Peter as politely as he knew how.

Grandfather Frog chuckled.  “Just to fool people, stupid!” said he.

“Of course we know that,” replied Striped Chipmunk, “but what we want to know is how he ever found out that he could fool people that way, and how he knows that he will fool them.”

“I suspect that his mammy taught him,” said Grandfather Frog, with another chuckle way down deep in his throat.

“But who taught his mammy?” persisted Striped Chipmunk.

Grandfather Frog snapped at a foolish green fly, and when it was safely tucked away inside his white and yellow waistcoat, he turned once more to his three little visitors, and there was a twinkle in his big, goggly eyes.

“I see,” said he, “that you will have a story, and I suppose that the sooner I tell it to you, the sooner you will leave me in peace.  Unc’ Billy Possum’s grandfather a thousand times removed was—­”

“Was this way back in the days when the world was young?” interrupted Peter.

Grandfather Frog scowled at Peter.  “If I have any more interruptions, there will be no story to-day” said he severely.

Peter looked ashamed and promised that he would hold his tongue right between his teeth until Grandfather Frog was through.  Grandfather Frog cleared his throat and began again.

“Unc’ Billy Possum’s grandfather a thousand times removed was very much as Unc’ Billy is now, only he was a little more spry and knew better than to stuff himself so full that he couldn’t run.  He was always very sly, and he played a great many tricks on his neighbors, and sometimes he got them into trouble.  But when he did, he always managed to keep out of their way until they had forgotten all about their anger.

“One morning the very imp of mischief seemed to get into old Mr. Possum’s head.  Yes, Sir, it certainly did seem that way.  And when you see Mischief trotting along the Lone Little Path, if you look sharp enough, you’ll see Trouble following at his heels like a shadow.  I never knew it to fail.  It’s just as sure as a stomach-ache is to follow overeating.”