Sometimes Unc' Billy wished that he was back in the old hollow tree, and sometimes he was glad that he was right where he was. Sometimes he felt little shivers of fear run all over him as he thought of what might become of him if he should be found. Sometimes a little tickly feeling of pleasure ran all over him, as he bit a hole in the end of a freshly laid egg and sucked the egg out of the sh.e.l.l.

Now Unc' Billy was very, very crafty. He had found Jimmy Skunk's tracks boldly leading up to the hen-house, so Unc' Billy had stepped as carefully as he knew how in the footprints of Jimmy Skunk, in order that Farmer Brown's boy might think that Jimmy Skunk was the only visitor to the hen-house. But with all his craft, there was one thing that Unc' Billy forgot. Yes, Sir, there was one thing Unc' Billy forgot all about. He forgot to keep his tail up. He was trying so hard to step in the footprints of Jimmy Skunk, that he forgot all about that little, smooth, handy old tail of his, and he let it drag along the snow.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He just ate and ate until he couldn't eat another one.]

When Unc' Billy was safely in the hen-house, he hurried from one nest to another. There were eggs, plenty of them. It seemed to him that nothing he had ever seen before had looked half so good as those eggs.

He just ate and ate and ate until he couldn't eat another one. Now a full stomach is very apt to make a sleepy head. Unc' Billy knew that the thing for him to do was to hurry home as fast as he could go, but he didn't. No, Sir, he didn't do it. The hen-house was warm and here were some of the nicest nests of hay. He was tired after his long walk from the Green Forest, for Unc' Billy had done so little walking this winter that he was rather out of practice. Why not take a teeny, weeny nap before he started back home?

Unc' Billy climbed to the very last nest in the topmost row, way up in a dark corner. It hadn't been used for a long time, but it was full of nice, soft hay. Unc' Billy curled himself up in it, and with a great sigh of contentment, closed his eyes for that teeny, weeny nap. He didn't open them again until he heard an angry voice right close to him. He peeped out. It was broad daylight, and there, just below him, was Farmer Brown's boy, looking at the empty egg-sh.e.l.ls left by Unc'

Billy. Farmer Brown's boy was angry. Yes, indeed, he was very, very angry. Unc' Billy shivered as he listened. Then he snuggled down out of sight under the hay of the nest.

XVII

UNC' BILLY POSSUM LIES LOW

Farmer Brown's boy was angry. Yes, Sir, he was angry. There was no doubt about that. He had found the empty sh.e.l.ls of the eggs which Unc'

Billy had eaten in the night, and Unc' Billy knew by the sound of his voice that Farmer Brown's boy meant to find the thief.

It was a terrible position to be in, right there in the hen-house, with no chance to run. Unc' Billy wished with all his might that he had never thought of eggs, and that he was safe back home in the dear old hollow tree in the Green Forest. Oh, dear! oh, dear! Why hadn't he gone right straight back there, after eating those eggs, instead of taking a nap? But he hadn't. He had taken a nap and overslept, and here he was, right in the hen-house, in broad daylight.

"It must have been a Skunk," said Farmer Brown's boy, "and if it was, he must have left some tracks in the snow outside. I'll just look around a bit."

Unc' Billy almost chuckled as he heard Farmer Brown's boy go out.

"He'll find Jimmy Skunk's tracks, but he won't find mine," thought Unc' Billy. "Isn't it lucky that I thought to step right in Jimmy Skunk's tracks when I came here?"

He lay still and listened to Farmer Brown's boy poking around outside.

He heard him exclaim: "Ah, I thought so!" and knew that he had found the tracks Jimmy Skunk had made in the snow. Unc' Billy almost chuckled again as he thought what a smart fellow he had been to step in Jimmy Skunk's tracks. And right then he heard something that put an end to all his fine thoughts about his own smartness, and sent little cold shivers up and down his backbone.

"h.e.l.lo!" said the voice of Farmer Brown's boy. "These are queer tracks! That Skunk must have had a queer tail, for here are the marks of it in the snow, and they look as if they might have been made by the tail of a very big rat."

Unc' Billy remembered then for the first time that when he had thought he was so smart, he had forgotten to hold his tail up. He had dragged it in the snow, and of course it had left a mark.

"I guess that there was more than one visitor here last night,"

continued the voice of Farmer Brown's boy. "Here are the tracks of the Skunk going away from the hen-house, but I don't see any of those other queer tracks going away. Whoever made them must be right around here now."

Back into the hen-house came Farmer Brown's boy and began to poke around in all the corners. He moved all the boxes and looked in the grain bin. Then he began to look in the nests. Unc' Billy could hear him coming nearer and nearer. He was looking in the very next nest to the one in which Unc' Billy was. Finally he looked into that very nest. Unc' Billy Possum held his breath.

Now the nest in which Unc' Billy was hiding was on the topmost row in the darkest corner of the hen-house, and Unc' Billy had crawled down underneath the hay. Perhaps it was because that corner was so dark, or perhaps it was because that nest was so high up, that Farmer Brown's boy really didn't expect to find anything there. Anyway, all he saw was the hay, and he didn't take the trouble to put his hand in and feel for anything under the hay.

"It's queer," said Farmer Brown's boy. "It's very queer! I guess I shall have to set some traps."

And all the time Unc' Billy Possum held his breath and lay low.

XVIII

UNC' BILLY POSSUM IS A PRISONER

"Mah home is in a holler tree-- It's a long way home!

Ah wish Ah's there, but here Ah be-- It's a long way home!

If Ah had only been content Instead of out on mischief bent, Ah'd have no reason to repent-- It's a long way home!"

Unc' Billy Possum lay curled up under the hay in the highest nest in the darkest corner in Farmer Brown's hen-house. Unc' Billy didn't dare go to sleep, because he was afraid that Farmer Brown's boy might find him. And, anyway, he wanted to see just what Farmer Brown's boy was doing. So peeping out, he watched Farmer Brown's boy, who seemed to be very busy indeed. What do you think he was doing? Unc' Billy knew.

Yes, Sir, Unc' Billy knew just what Farmer Brown's boy was doing. He was setting traps.

Unc' Billy's eyes twinkled as he watched Farmer Brown's boy, for Unc'

Billy knew that those traps were being set for him, and now that he knew just where each one was, of course he wasn't a bit afraid. It seemed to Unc' Billy that it was just the greatest kind of a joke to be watching Farmer Brown's boy set those traps, while all the time Farmer Brown's boy thought he was hiding them so cleverly that the only way they would be found would be by some one stepping into one and getting caught.

"There," said Farmer Brown's boy, as he set the last trap, "I'd like to see anything get into this hen-house now without getting caught!"

Unc' Billy almost chuckled aloud. Yes, Sir, he almost chuckled aloud.

It was such a funny idea that Farmer Brown's boy should have taken all the trouble to set those traps to catch Unc' Billy trying to get into the hen-house, when all the time he was already in there.

Unc' Billy laughed under his breath as Farmer Brown's boy closed the door of the hen-house and went off whistling. "Ho, ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha!

Hee, hee!" Unc' Billy broke off short, right in the very middle of his laugh. He had just thought of something, and it wasn't funny at all.

With all those traps set at every opening to the hen-house, no one could get in without getting caught, and of course no one who was in could get out without getting caught!

The joke wasn't on Farmer Brown's boy, after all; it was on Unc' Billy Possum. But Unc' Billy couldn't see that it was any joke at all. Unc'

Billy was a prisoner, a prisoner in Farmer Brown's hen-house, and he didn't know how ever he was going to get out of there.

"It's a long way home," said Unc' Billy mournfully, as he peeped out of a crack toward the Green Forest.

XIX

WHAT THE SNOW DID

Unc' Billy Possum did a lot of thinking. He was a prisoner, just as much a prisoner as if he were in a cage. Now Unc' Billy Possum wouldn't have minded being a prisoner in the hen-house but for two things; he was dreadfully afraid that his old friend and partner, Jimmy Skunk, would get hungry for eggs and would get caught in the traps, and he was still more afraid that Farmer Brown's boy would think to put his hand down under the hay in the last nest of the top row in the darkest corner. So Unc' Billy spent most of his time studying and thinking of some way to get out, and if he couldn't do that, of some way to warn Jimmy Skunk to keep away from Farmer Brown's hen-house.

If it hadn't been for those two worries, Unc' Billy would have been willing to stay there the rest of the winter. It was delightfully warm and cosy. He knew which nest Mrs. Speckles always used and which one Mrs. Feathertoes liked best, and he knew that of all the eggs laid in Farmer Brown's hen-house those laid by Mrs. Speckles and Mrs.

Feathertoes were the best. Having all the eggs he could eat, Unc'

Billy had grown very particular. Nothing but the best, the very best, would do for him. So he would lie curled up in the last nest of the top row in the darkest corner and wait until he heard the high-pitched voice of Mrs. Speckles proudly crying:

"Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut, cut-aa-cut! I lay the finest eggs in the world!"

Then Unc' Billy would chuckle to himself and wait a few minutes longer for the voice of Mrs. Feathertoes, saying: "Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut-aa-cut, cut, cut, cut! No one lays such splendid eggs as I do!"

Then, while Mrs. Speckles and Mrs. Feathertoes were disputing as to which laid the best eggs, Unc' Billy would slip out and breakfast on both those newly laid eggs.