g especially thick and long, to protect
his body when he was obliged to wade through light, fluffy snow. When
there was a crust he didn't need it, for his paws were so big and broad
and hairy that at such times they bore him up almost as well as if they
had been two pairs of snow-shoes.

But, well armed, well clad, and well shod though he was, it was
fortunate for the Kitten that his first winter was a mild one--mild,
that is, for the Glimmerglass country. Otherwise things might have gone
very hard with him, and they were none too easy as it was. There were
days when he was even hungrier than his mother had been the night she
serenaded the land-looker, and it was on one of these occasions that he
found a porcupine in a tree and tried to make a meal of him. That was a
memorable experience. The porky was sitting in a crotch, doing nothing
in particular, and when the Kitten approached he simply put his nose
down and his quills up. The Kitten spat at him contemptuously, but
without any apparent effect. Then he put out a big forepaw and tapped
him lightly on the forehead. The porcupine flipped his tail, and the
Kitten jumped back, and spat and hissed harder than ever. He didn't
quite know what to make of this singular-looking creature, but he was
young and rash, besides being awfully, awfully hungry, and in another
minute he pitched in.

The next thing they knew, the porcupine had dropped to the ground, where
he lit in a snow-bank, and presently picked himself up and waddled off
to another tree, while the Kitten--well, the Kitten just sat in the
crotch and cried as hard as ever he could cry. There were quills in his
nose, and quills in his side, and quills in both his forepaws; and every
motion was agony. He himself never knew exactly how he got rid of them
all, so of course I can't tell you. A few of those that were caught only
by their very tips may possibly have dropped out, but it is probable
that most of them broke off and left their points to work deeper and
deeper into the flesh until the skin finally closed over them and they
disappeared. I have no doubt that pieces of those quills are still
wandering about in various parts of his anatomy, like the quart of lead
that "Little Bobs" carries around with him, according to Mr. Kipling. It
was weeks before he ceased to feel the pain of them.

For several days after this mishap it was impossible for him to hunt,
and he would certainly have starved to death if it had not b