is
foot. Right there he placed a big piece of bread crust.

Whitefoot was working so hard and so fast to get all those delicious
bits of food that he took no notice of anything else until he reached
that piece of crust. Then he happened to look up right into the eyes
of Farmer Brown's boy. With a frightened little squeak Whitefoot darted
back, and for a long time he was afraid to come out again.

But Farmer Brown's boy didn't move, and at last Whitefoot could stand
the temptation no longer. He darted out halfway, scurried back, came out
again, and at last ventured right up to the crust. Then he began to drag
it back to the woodpile. Still Farmer Brown's boy did not move.

For two or three days the same thing happened. By this time, Whitefoot
had lost all fear. He knew that Farmer Brown's boy would not harm him,
and it was not long before he ventured to take a bit of food from Farmer
Brown's boy's hand. After that Farmer Brown's boy took care that no
crumbs should be scattered on the ground. Whitefoot had to come to him
for his food, and always Farmer Brown's boy had something delicious for
him.

CHAPTER IV: Whitefoot Grows Anxious

'Tis sad indeed to trust a friend
Then have that trust abruptly end.
--Whitefoot

I know of nothing that is more sad than to feel that a friend is no
longer to be trusted. There came a time when Whitefoot the Wood Mouse
almost had this feeling. It was a very, very anxious time for Whitefoot.

You see, Whitefoot and Farmer Brown's boy had become the very best
of friends there in the little sugar-house. They had become such good
friends that Whitefoot did not hesitate to take food from the hands of
Farmer Brown's boy. Never in all his life had he had so much to eat or
such good things to eat. He was getting so fat that his handsome little
coat was uncomfortably tight. He ran about fearlessly while Farmer Brown
and Farmer Brown's boy were making maple syrup and maple sugar. He had
even lost his fear of Bowser the Hound, for Bowser had paid no attention
to him whatever.

Now you remember that Whitefoot had made his home way down beneath the
great pile of wood in the sugar-house. Of course Farmer Brown and Farmer
Brown's boy used that wood for the fire to boil the sap to make the
syrup and sugar. Whitefoot thought nothing of this until one day he
discovered that his little home was no longer as dark as it had been.
A little ray of light crept down between the sticks. Pres