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“It was a mouse,” smiled Nibble Rabbit, because he knew Stripes wouldn’t tell that he’d tried to stop them. He came hopping up close to Tommy. And Tommy didn’t know what he said, either, but his father must have understood a little.

“It’s queer about that stem,” he remarked. “I never knew mice to do anything like that before, but mice must be what your skunk friend is hunting here. That rabbit certainly isn’t afraid of him.”

“Those rabbits!” Tommy fairly squealed. For Silk-ears and all the babies were peeking at him with their long ears perked up among the potato stems. “And those skunks!” For Stripes Skunk’s three kittens were trying to squint at him from under the leaves, and the lower they put down their heads the higher they arched up their tails. But they didn’t know that. They thought they were beautifully hidden. And there were their three black plumes, with white tips squirming at the ends of them. No wonder Tommy laughed. No wonder he said: “Say, Dad. Let’s catch one!”

When Tommy tickled her nose with the tender end of a grass-blade she ate it.