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Tale of Grumpy Weasel

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<h3>VII PADDY MUSKRAT'S BLUNDER</h3> Sometimes Grumpy Weasel found the hunting poor along the stretch of stone wall that he called his own—though of course it really belonged to Farmer Green. And though he disliked to wander much in strange neighborhoods, once in a while he visited other parts of Pleasant Valley. It was on such an excursion to the bank of the mill pond that he caught sight, one day, of Paddy Muskrat—or to be more exact, that Paddy Muskrat caught sight of him. Now it was seldom that anybody spoke[Pg 29] to Grumpy Weasel. On the contrary, most of the forest-folk dodged out of sight whenever they saw him, and said nothing. So he wheeled like a flash and started to run when somebody called, "Hullo, stranger!" One quick backward glance at a small wet head in the water told Grumpy that he had nothing to fear. "Hullo, yourself!" he retorted "And you'd better not call me 'stranger,' because I'm no stranger than you are." Well, Paddy Muskrat—for it was he who had spied Grumpy Weasel on the bank of the pond—saw at once that whoever the slender and elegant person might be, he had the worst of manners. Though Paddy had lived in the mill pond a long time, he had never met any one that looked exactly like the newcomer. To be sure, there was Peter Mink, who was long-[Pg 30]bodied and short-tempered, as the stranger appeared to be. But when Paddy inquired whether the visitor wasn't a distant connection of the Mink family (as indeed he was!), Grumpy Weasel said, "What! Do you mean to insult me by asking whether I'm related to such a ragged, ruffianly crowd?" Somehow Paddy Muskrat rather liked that answer, for Peter Mink and all his family were fine swimmers and most unwelcome in the mill pond. And perhaps—who knew?—perhaps the spic-and-span chap on the bank, with the sleek coat and black-tipped tail, was one of the kind that didn't like to get his feet wet. Then Paddy Muskrat asked the stranger a silly question. He was not the wisest person, anyhow, in Pleasant Valley, as his wife often reminded him. "You're[Pg 31] not a distant relation of Tommy Fox, are you?" he inquired. Grumpy Weasel actually almost smiled. "Now, how did you happen to guess that?" he asked. "Because you've got such a sharp nose," Paddy Muskrat replied. And he was quite pleased with himself, for he thought that he wasn't so stupid as some people thought. "Any other reason?" Grumpy Weasel inquired, stepping to the edge of the overhanging bank. "You don't like to get your feet wet," Paddy Muskrat said. And feeling safe as anything, he swam nearer the spot where the stranger was crouching. Paddy saw, almost too late, that he had made a bad blunder. For without the slightest warning Grumpy Weasel leaped at him. And had not Paddy been a won[Pg 32]derful swimmer and able to dive like a flash, he would never have dashed, panting, into his house a few moments later. "What on earth is the matter?" his wife asked him. "I've been having a swimming race with a stranger," Paddy explained. "I don't know his name. But I do know that he'd just as soon get his feet wet as I would." "Well, why not?" Mrs. Muskrat inquired. "That only shows he's sensible." "Does it show I'm sensible, too?" Paddy asked her. "Certainly not!" said Mrs. Muskrat. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> [Pg 33] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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