CHAPTER III 
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE TIMBER WOLF 
The sun had sunk down below the crest 
of old Round-Top and down by the Hol¬ 
low Tree House, long dark shadows crept 
along the hillside. The air was warm and 
Mother Lynx felt sure that the forest 
paths would be filled with the little forest- 
dwellers, glad to leave their burrows and 
come out to frisk and dance and play in 
the warm, spring night. From the marsh 
came the soft trillings of the frogs as they 
seemed to say,—“ Sleep—sleep—go to 
sleep! ” And the reply from the naughty, 
young frogs,—“ No sleep! No sleep! 
No sleep!” Every once in a while, a 
cross, grumpy, old grandfather frog 
would say in his deep voice,—“ Ker- 
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