limb had been a good one,
but it wasn't, and when Mr. Possum ran along it, before he could even
get ready to swing, "crackle, snap," went the limb and down went Mr.
Possum into a barrel of whitewash Mrs. Rabbit had ready to use on her
little house.

And that was not the worst of it. When he ran home, so scared he
didn't remember running at all after it was over, Mrs. Possum didn't
know him, but thought he was some terrible white creature come to carry
on her children, and slammed the door right in his face.

All night Mr. Possum had to sit outside, the whitewash dripping from
his coat, and in the morning, bright and early, all the little Bunnies
and Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit, as well, were standing in front of the house,
looking at him.

Mrs. Rabbit wanted to know what he meant by carrying off some of her
whitewash. "I tracked you right to your own door-yard, so you need not
deny it," she said.

Mr. Possum did not try to deny it, for what was the use. He was all
covered in the white stuff? But he did try to tell Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit
that it was all an accident, that he was just running along the limb
and off it broke and he happened to fall into the whitewash.

Mrs. Possum had found out it was her husband by this time, of course,
and she came out to say that what Mrs. Rabbit could think they wanted
of her whitewash was more than she could tell.

Mrs. Rabbit wiggled her nose and looked very wise. "Well," she said,
"if that is true, Mr. Possum, that it was all an accident, why, of
course, that is all there is to it; but you must admit that it did look
suspicious."

Mr. Possum admitted that it did, and off ran the Rabbit family for
home; but it was a long time before Mr. Possum could go abroad again,
for the white coat he wore was to be plainly seen in the daytime or at
night.

WHAT THE FLOWERS TOLD MARTHA

[Illustration: What the Flowers told Martha]

Martha was visiting her grandmother, who lived in the country. At the
back of the farmhouse was a very large porch, and in the front of that
a garden in which grew all kinds of flowers.

One afternoon, when everyone else was taking a nap, Martha sat on the
porch. It was warm and a bee was buzzing around the flowers. Every
little while he would fly around Martha's head.

"I wish I had someone to play with," thought Martha. "Everybody is
asleep and I am lonesome."

"The flowers want you to come into the garden," buzzed the bee.

Martha listened, for