THE FOX. 
" A sly dog." 
Somehow people always say 
that when they see a Fox. I'd 
rather they would call me that 
than stupid, however. Do I 
look stupid in my picture? 
u Look pleasant,'* said the man 
when taking my photograph for 
Birds, and I flatter myself I did 
— and intelligent, too. Look at 
my brainy head, my delicate 
ears — broad below to catch every 
sound, and tapering so sharply 
to a point that they can shape 
themselves to every wave of 
sound. Note the crafty calcula- 
tion and foresight of my low, 
flat brow, the resolute purpose 
of my pointed nose; my eye deep 
set — like a robber's — my thin 
cynical lips, and mouth open 
from ear to ear. You couldn't 
find a better looking Fox if you 
searched the world over. 
I can leap, crawl, run, and 
swim, and walk so noiselessly 
that even the dead leaves won't 
rustle under my feet. It takes 
a deal of cunning for a Fox to 
get along in this world, I can 
tell you. I'd go hungry if I 
didn't plan and observe the 
habits of other creatures. For 
instance: I love Fish. When I 
want one for my supper off I 
trot to the nearest stream, and 
standing very quiet, watch till I 
spy a nice, plump trout in the 
clear water. A leap, a snap, and 
it is all over with Mr. Trout. 
Another time I feel as though 
I'd like a crawfish. I see one 
snoozing by his hole near the 
water's edge. I drop my fine, 
bushy tail into the water and 
tickle him on the ear. That 
makes him furious — nobody 
likes to be wakened from a nap 
that way — and out he darts at 
the tail; snap go my jaws, and 
Mr. Crawfish is crushed in them, 
shell and all. 
Between you and me, I con- 
sider that a very clever trick, 
too. Don't you? 
Summer is my favorite season 
of the year. How I love the 
green fields, the ripening grain, 
the delicious fruits, for then the 
Rabbits prick up their long ears, 
and thinking themselves out of 
danger, run along the hillside; 
then the quails skulk in the 
wheat stubble, and the birds hop 
and fly about the whole day long. 
I am very fond of Rabbits, 
Quails, and other Birds. They 
make a very satisfactory meal. 
For dessert I have only to sneak 
into an orchard and eat my fill 
of apples, pears, and grapes. 
You perceive I have very good 
reason for liking the summer. 
Its the merriest time of the year 
for me, and my cubs. They 
grow fat and saucy, too. 
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