“Tippy-toppy-tippy-toe,

Play and frolic in the snow!

Now you see me! Now you don't!

Think you'll catch me, but you won't!

Tippy-toppy-tippy-toe,

Oh, such fun to play in snow!”

DANNY MEADOW MOUSE sang this, or at least he tried to sing it, as he skipped about on the snow that covered the Green Meadows. But Danny Meadow Mouse has such a little voice, such a funny little squeaky voice, that had you been there you probably would never have guessed that he was singing. He thought he was, though, and was enjoying it just as much as if he had the most beautiful voice in the world. You know, singing is nothing in the world but happiness in the heart making itself heard.

 

Oh, yes, Danny Meadow Mouse was happy! Why shouldn't he have been? Hadn't he proved himself smarter than old Granny Fox? That is something to make anyone happy. Some folks may fool Granny Fox once; some may fool her twice; but there are very few who can keep right on fooling her until she gives up in disgust. That is just what Danny Meadow Mouse had done, and he felt very smart and of course he felt very happy.

 

So Danny sang his little song and skipped about in the moonlight, and dodged² in and out of his little round doorways⁴, and all the time kept his sharp little eyes open for any sign of Granny Fox or Reddy Fox. But with all his smartness, Danny forgot. Yes, Sir, Danny forgot one thing. He forgot to watch up in the sky. He knew that of course old Roughleg the Hawk⁵ was asleep, so he had nothing to fear from him. But he never once thought of Hooty the Owl⁶.

 

Dear me, dear me! Forgetting is a dreadful habit. If nobody ever forgot, there wouldn't be nearly so much trouble in the world. No, indeed, there wouldn't be nearly so much trouble. And Danny Meadow Mouse forgot. He skipped and sang and was happy as could be, and never once thought to watch up in the sky.

 

 

 

Over in the Green Forest Hooty the Owl had had poor hunting

 

Over in the Green Forest Hooty the Owl had had poor hunting, and he was feeling cross. You see, Hooty was hungry, and hunger is apt to make one feel cross. The longer he hunted, the hungrier and crosser he grew. Suddenly he thought of Danny Meadow Mouse.

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