"Bring your brothers over to my house late this afternoon," Mr. Fox said. "I'll have the Grouse boys there. And we can begin to learn to make music at once."

"Who will teach us?" asked Billy. "Do _you_ know how to drum or whistle?"

"Don't you worry about that!" Mr. Fox answered. "I can teach you a thing or two." And he hurried away to find Mother Grouse's sons and tell them the good news.

XV

"POP! GOES THE WEASEL!"

Just as he had promised, Billy Woodchuck led his two brothers to Mr. Fox's house late in the afternoon, to join the fife-and-drum corps, and make sweet music.

The Grouse boys--all four of them--were already there and waiting to begin. And Mr. Fox was all smiles.

"Let's go further into the woods," he said. "I know a fine place, where we won't be disturbed." He had noticed that old Mr. Crow was sitting in the top of a tall elm, and he did not care to have the old gentleman see what was going on.

So they followed Mr. Fox. And after a while he stopped close by a broad brook. He told Billy and his brothers just where to stand, and how to hold their short sticks so they would look like fifes.

The Grouse boys perched themselves high up on the trunk of a dead tree, which had fallen against a big oak and lay slanting between the oak and the ground.

"Come right down here!" Mr. Fox said to them.

But the Grouse brothers told him that they could drum much better where they were.

"What tune are we going to learn?" Billy Woodchuck asked.

Mr. Fox thought for a moment. And then he said:

"The first tune will be 'Pop! Goes the Weasel.'" He hummed it to them. And soon the Grouse boys began to drum; and Billy Woodchuck and his brothers began to whistle.

Though they played very badly, Mr. Fox declared again and again that he was much pleased.

"But I seem to be a little too near the music," he said. "I want you all to face _that_ way," he went on, pointing a paw over his shoulder. "And please keep on playing while I go off and see how the tune sounds further away."

So they began to play "Pop! Goes the Weasel," once more, while Mr.

Fox, beating time all the while, backed slowly out of sight in the direction in which he had pointed.

They played and played. And at last Billy Woodchuck's lips began to feel very queer, puckered up as they were. And now and then not a single whistle came from his mouth, though he blew as hard as he knew how. He was out of breath, too. And so were his brothers.

Billy was wondering why Mr. Fox did not come back, when his sharp ears caught a faint sound. It was no more than a dry leaf breaking.

Neither you nor I could have heard it.

In spite of what Mr. Fox had said about looking straight ahead, Billy turned around. And he was always glad, afterward, that he had. For whom should he see behind him but Mr. Fox, stealing upon them with a horrid grin on his face!

The music stopped short. With one frightened scream Billy Woodchuck was off. He plunged into the brook, with his brothers right at his heels. And in no time at all they had swum across to the other side and vanished in the thick bushes.

At the water's edge Mr. Fox paused. If there was one thing he hated, it was getting his feet wet. The brook was too broad for him to jump; and when at last he found a place where he could cross by hopping from one stone to another, the Woodchuck boys were nowhere to be found.

But the Grouse brothers still sat on the dead tree, though they had moved to its very top; and they had stopped drumming.

"How did the music sound?" one of them asked.

"It was the worst I ever heard," Mr. Fox snarled.

The Grouse brothers snickered. And one of them invited Mr. Fox to come up where they were.

But he never even thanked them.

XVI

THE PLAY-HOUSE

As Billy Woodchuck grew bigger he was often to be seen digging holes in the pasture. You might think he was looking for something.

But he was not. He was merely playing at making houses.

First he would dig a slanting hole down into the ground. And then from the bottom of that he would run a level tunnel. When his tunnel was as long as he wanted it, he would work his way upward for a short distance. And there he would make a chamber, much like the one at home.

Of course, Billy's play-houses were not so big as his mother's home. The front stairs were shorter, and the hall was not so long, and the chamber was smaller. But he thought they were wonderful.

And he made up his mind that the next time Johnnie Green or dog Spot chased him he would run down into one of those play-houses and hide. Billy hoped that he would be chased soon.

He did not have to wait long. One evening when old Spot had started the last cow homeward he lingered in the pasture a while. If there was one thing he liked, it was chasing woodchucks.

When Billy Woodchuck caught sight of Spot, sniffing along the ground, he climbed up on a hummock, so that Spot could see him, and gave a loud whistle.

It didn't take old Spot long to see Billy. And as soon as he spied him he made a dash for him.

That was exactly what Billy Woodchuck wanted. He waited as long as he dared. And then he made off like a gray streak toward his newest house.

Old Spot saw his bushy tail disappear through the front door. And Spot looked down into the darkness and called Billy a few names.

He pawed and scratched at the door, too. But he was no such digger as Billy Woodchuck. And after a while he grew tired of staying there and went away.

That night, after Billy Woodchuck went home, he boasted about his newest play-house.

"It's exactly as good as this one," he bragged. "To-day old Spot chased me, and I ran into my house and he never touched me. After this I'm always going to hide there."

Billy's brothers and sisters thought he was very clever. But his mother said:

"I want to see that play-house. To-morrow you may show it to me."

That pleased Billy. It made him feel prouder than ever. And the next morning he was up bright and early. Sometimes he was very slow about dressing, because he stopped to play. And that made him late to breakfast. But this morning he was even ahead of time.