Whitefoot Seeks Advice

By Thornton W. Burgess

Whitefoot the Wood Mouse was tired and frightened and homeless. Early that morning he had been frightened from his home in a hollow log by Shadow the Weasel. He had started out in the world to build a new home and he had walked and walked and walked, but nowhere had he found a place that looked really safe. Whitefoot had not forgotten the advice of Striped Chipmunk to build his house where no one would think of looking for it. But how could he find such a place?

Pretty soon Whitefoot met Johnny Chuck. "Hello!" exclaimed Johnny Chuck in surprise. "Aren't you lost, Whitefoot?"

Whitefoot shook his head. "No," said he, "I'm not lost because I haven't any place to be lost from."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Johnny Chuck.

"I mean that my old home is no longer my home, for Shadow the Weasel has found it and I do not dare go back there. So now I am looking for a place to build a new home. Oh, Johnny Chuck, do you know of any place where no one would think of looking for a home of mine?"

Johnny scratched his head and thought very hard, very hard indeed, for Johnny chuck is a very obliging little fellow. "No," said he slowly. "I don't believe I do. I tell you what, let's go over and see Grandfather Frog. He is so old and wise that he is sure to know."

Whitefoot agreed, so off they started for the Smiling Pool. Whitefoot had never been there before and he kept close to Johnny Chuck's coat tails all the way there. They found Grandfather Frog sitting on his big green lily-pad just as usual. He heard them coming through the bulrushes.

"Hello, Johnny Chuck! What brings you down here today?" asked Grandfather Frog.

Johnny Chuck explained Whitefoot's difficult. Grandfather Frog listened attentively.

"Now what would you do?" concluded Johnny Chuck.

"Chugarum! How should I know?" replied Grandfather Frog in his deepest and gruffest voice. But all the time there was a twinkly in his big goggly eyes as he watched Whitefoot's face fall.

Just then a foolish green fly came within reach of Grandfather Frog. His big mouth opened wide, the fly disappeared and Grandfather Frog patted his white and yellow waistcoat as if something inside felt very nice indeed.

"It seems to me that if I were in the habit of living in hollow trees or logs and wanted to make a new home where no one would think to look for it, I'd hunt up some old house that is supposed to be deserted and I'd move in and not let anyone know that I was living there," said Grandfather Frog, and as he spoke his eyes were fastened on one of Mrs. Redwing's old nests in the rushes.

Whitefoot saw the nest and a great idea came to him. "Thank you, thank you, Grandfather Frog!" he cried. "I'm going to do just that thing."