But the wary bird was already in the air, with the prize
drooping from his talons. And the mother could do nothing but sit up and
chatter after him abusively as he sailed away to his nest.
"You see, the mother was brave enough, as I said before, but very
careless. She was different from the ordinary run of woodchucks, in that
she had only three feet. She had lost her left hind paw."
"Was that because she was so careless?" asked the Babe.
Uncle Andy looked at him suspiciously. Like so many other story-tellers,
he preferred to make all the jokes himself. He was suspicious of other
people's jokes. But the Babe's round, attentive eyes were as innocent as
the sky.
"No," said he gravely; "_that_ was something she could not help. It was
an accident. It has nothing to do with Young Grumpy, but since you've
asked me about it I had better tell you at once and save interruptions.
"You see it was this way. Before she came to live on the Anderson Farm
she used to have a burrow over on the other side of the Ridge, where the
people went in for a good deal of trapping and snaring. One day someone
set a steel trap just in front of her burrow. Of course she put her foot
into it at the first chance.
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