Way-Atcha, the Coon—Raccoon 
became devotedly fond of Roy, and not two weeks 
had gone before Way-atcha’s usual napping couch 
was right on Roy’s furry breast, deep in the wool, 
cuddled up with all the dog’s four legs drawn close 
against him. 
As he grew stronger he became very mischievous. 
He seemed half monkey, half kitten, full of fun 
always, delighted to be petted, and always hungry, 
and soon learned where to look for dainties. The 
children used to keep goodies in their pockets for 
him, and he learned that fact so well that when a 
stranger came to the house Way-atcha would 
gravely climb up his legs and seek in all his pockets 
for something to eat. 
On one occasion he had been missing for some 
hours, always a suspicious fact. When Mrs. 
Pigott went into the storeroom, stocked now with 
the summer preserves, she was greeted with the 
whining call of Way-atcha, more busy than words 
can tell. There he was wallowing up to his eyes 
in plum jam, digging down into a crock of it like 
a washwoman into her tubs, feeling and groping 
for what? He had gorged himself till he could 
eat no more, and now prompted by his ancient 
woodland memories he was gropping with his paws 
among the jam and juice to capture all the plum 
stones, each in turn to be examined and cast aside. 
108 
