Mrs. Squirrel knew that Fatty had had a hard time, because he had left
a good deal of his fur behind him. It clung to the sides of the
doorway. And Mrs. Squirrel spent half the day picking it off and
throwing the beechnut-shells out of her house. She was a very neat
housekeeper; and she was quite annoyed to find her house upset.
As for Frisky, he began to bring home another store of nuts that very
day. After what had happened neither he nor his mother had any fear
that Fatty Coon would ever trouble them again.
XV
Helpful Mr. Crow
Frisky Squirrel's mother had often told him not to have anything to do
with Mr. Crow. "He's such a tricky old fellow!" she said. "He seems to
have nothing to do but get folks into trouble. Don't go near him, and
don't have anything to say to him."
Now, I'm sure Frisky Squirrel wanted to mind his mother. But he
couldn't help feeling that she was mistaken about Mr. Crow. He was so
solemn, and he always looked so like a preacher--for he usually wore
shiny, black clothes--that Frisky Squirrel thought him a very nice old
gentleman. And he told such interesting stories, too! Frisky could
listen to him by the hour.
So, in spite of his mother's warnings, whenever he met Mr. Crow Frisky
Squirrel would always stop and ask the old gentleman how his cold was.
You see, Mr. Crow's voice was never what you would call _clear_. You
might say that there was a decided croak in it. And very often, even
on hot summer days, he would have a muffler wound about his throat.
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