“He didn’t care a fig.  You see, he was so grumpy.  Not knowing where to go, he strolled up the hill and into the fir woods.  Here he came upon a very old, moth-eaten, feeble-looking woodchuck, who was very busy in a half-hearted way digging himself a hole.  Suddenly he stopped.  Young Grumpy did not think it was any sort of a hole for a woodchuck, but the old fellow seemed satisfied with it.  He curled himself up in it, almost in plain view, and went straight to sleep.  Young Grumpy strolled off scornfully.  When he came back that way, a few hours later, he found the old woodchuck still in exactly the same position as before.  He never stirred or scolded even when Young Grumpy came up and squeaked quite close to his ear.  Seized suddenly with a vague uneasiness, Young Grumpy nosed at him curiously.  The old woodchuck’s body was chill and rigid.  It created a most unpleasant impression, and, not knowing why he did so, Young Grumpy hurried forth from the dark wood and down into the sunlit pasture to which he was accustomed.

“For some days he wandered about the pasture, sleeping under stumps and in mossy hollows, and fortunately escaping, by reason of his light, rusty-gray color, the eyes of passing hawks.  At last chance, or his nose for good living, led him down to the clover meadow adjoining Anderson’s barnyard.

“It was here that his adventures may be said to have begun.

“Just as he was happily filling himself with clover, a white dog, with short-cropped ears standing up stiffly, came by and stopped to look at him with bright, interested eyes.  Young Grumpy, though the stranger was big enough to take him in two mouthfuls, felt not frightened but annoyed.  He gave a chuckling squeak of defiance and rushed straight at the dog.

“Now, this was the Boy’s bull terrier, Major, and he had been severely trained to let small, helpless creatures alone.  He had got it into his head that all such creatures were the Boy’s property, and so to be guarded and respected.  He was afraid lest he might hurt this cross little animal, and get into trouble with the Boy.  So he kept jumping out of the way, stiff-leggedly, as if very much amused, and at the same time he kept barking, as if to call the Boy to come and see.  Young Grumpy, feeling very big, followed him up with short, threatening rushes, till he found himself just at the open gate leading into the farmyard.

“Parading solemnly before the gate was a big gray gander with only one eye.  That one eye, extra keen and fierce, caught sight of Young Grumpy, and probably mistook him for an immense rat, thief of eggs and murderer of goslings.  With a harsh hiss and neck outstretched till it was like a snake, the great bird darted at him.

“Young Grumpy hesitated.  After the manner of his kind, he sat upon his haunches to hesitate.  The gander seemed to him very queer, and perhaps dangerous.

“At this critical moment the white dog interfered.  In his eyes Young Grumpy belonged to the Boy, and was therefore valuable property.  He ran at the gander.  The gander, recognizing his authority, withdrew, haughty and protesting.  Young Grumpy followed with a triumphant rush, and, of course, took all the credit to himself.