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Show TK08JTTOH W. i CHATTERER IS PUT IN PRISON Whoever does a deed that's wrong Will surely find someday That for that naughty act of his He'll surely have to pay. 'TpHAT was the way with Chatterer the Red Squirrel. Of course, he had no business to steal corn from Farmer Brown's corncrib. To be sure, he felt that he had just as much right to that corn as Farmer Brown had. You see, the little people peo-ple of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest feel that everything that grows belongs to them if they want it and are smart enough to get it before someone else does. But it 1 is just there that Chatterer went1 wrong. Farmer Brown had harvested harvest-ed that corn and stored it in his corncrib, and so, of course, no one else had any right to it. Right down deep in his heart Chatterer knew this. Chatterer was very miserable, so miserable and frightened that he could do nothing but sit huddled up in a little shivery ball. He hadn't the least doubt in the world that this was his very last day and that Farmer Brown's Boy would turn him over to cruel ck Pussy for her breakfast Farmer Brown's Boy had left him in the trap in the house and had gone out. For a long time Chatterer could hear pounding out in the woodshed, and Farmer Brown's Boy whistling as he pounded. pound-ed. After whart seemed a very long time, ages and ages, Farmer Brown's Boy came back. He had with him a queer-looking box. "There," said he, "is a new home for you, you little red imp! I guess JllP' ' lie struggled and did his best t( bite. it will keep you out of trouble." 1 He slid back a little door in the top of the box. Then he put on a stout glove and opening a little door in the trap he put in his big hand and closed it around Chatterer. Poor little Chatterer! He was sure now that this was the end and that was to be given to Black Pussy, who was looking on with hungry yellow yel-low eyes. He struggled and did his best to bite, but the thick glove gave his sharp little teeth no chance to hurt the hand that held him. Even In his terror he noticed that the big hand tried to be gentle and squeezed him no tighter than was necessary. Then he was lifted out of the trap and dropped through the little doorway door-way in the top of the queer box, and the door was fastened. Nothing terrible ter-rible had happened, after alL Farmer Brown's Boy took the box out into the shed and put it where the sun shone into it For a little while he stayed watching, but Chatterer still sulked and sulked. By and by he went away, taking Black Pussy with him, and Chatterer Chat-terer was alone. When he was quite sure that no one was about, Chatterer began to wonder what sort of a place he was in and if there wasn't some way to get out. He found that one side and the top were of fine stout wire through which he could look out, and that the other sides and the bottom were of wood covered with wire, so that there was no chance for his sharp teeth to gnaw a way out In one corner was a stout piece of an appletree, with two little stubby branches to sit on, and halfway up a little round hole. Very cautiously Chatterer peeped inside the hole. Inside was a splendid hollow. hol-low. On the floor of the box was a little heap of shavings and bits ol rag. And there was a little pile ol yellow corn. How Chatterer did hate the sight of that corn! You see, it was corn that had gotten him into all this trouble. At least, that is the way Chatterer felt about it. When he had examined everything, every-thing, he knew that there was nc way out. Chatterer was in a prison, pris-on, though that is not what Farmer Brown's Boy called it. He said il was a cage. |