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“You don’t dig very well, do you? I suppose your feet aren’t big enough.”

“They’re as big as yours,” said Freya, stopping to rest.

“Then you don’t know how to use them,” I said. “Digging is an art, and not every dachshund knows how.”

“Humph!” said Freya. “Let me see you do it, then.”

So I got back in the hole and dug as hard as ever I could, and the dirt just flew out, I tell you! “There,” I said at last, much out of breath, “that’s the way to do it!”

But when I looked around, would you believe it, that silly dog had gone! And there was William hurrying up with a stick in his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he cried, real crossly. “Trying to dig up that apple tree? Get out o’ that, you pesky critter!”

So I got out in a big hurry and ran off around the house and down to the stable and crept behind the flower-pots. For once William didn’t find me and, as I was very tired, I went to sleep and dreamed that I had crawled down a long, long hole in the ground and that in front of me was a horrible grey badger with long teeth and glaring yellow eyes and great sharp claws. And when I tried to turn around and run out I couldn’t because the hole was too small, and when I tried to back out I couldn’t because the dirt had fallen in around me. And the badger said: “Hah, you’re the smart young dog who said he wanted to catch a badger, aren’t you?” And I said: “N-no, sir, that—that was my brother.” “You’re fibbing,” said the badger, “and for that I shall eat you all up. Raow!” Then he crept toward me and just as he reached out one great big paw with dozens and dozens of ugly, sharp claws I woke up with a howl, shivering and shaking! And, oh, my, wasn’t I glad to see those flower-pots and know that I was in the stable and not in a long, deep hole with a badger coming at me! I ran out and found Mother and cuddled up very close to her and told her my dream. She just smiled and licked my eyes and pretty soon I went to sleep again in the sunlight.