hadow
through the trees, that fierce, bearded face, those cruel, pale
yellow-green eyes, or that switching stump of a tail.

That tail fascinated Peter. It was just an apology for a tail. For
Tufty's size it was hardly as much of a tail as Peter himself has. It
made Peter feel a lot better. Also it made him very curious. The first
chance he got, he asked his cousin, Jumper the Hare, about it. You know
Jumper used to live in the Great Woods where Tufty lives, and Peter felt
sure that he must know the reason why Tufty has such a ridiculous stub
of a tail. Jumper did know, and this is the story he told Peter:

"Way back in the beginning of things lived old Mr. Lynx."

"I know," interrupted Peter. "He was the
great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather of Tufty, and he wasn't old then."

"Who's telling this story?" demanded Jumper crossly. "If you know it
why did you ask me?"

"I beg your pardon. Indeed I do. I won't say another word," replied
Peter hastily.

"All right, see that you don't. Interruptions always spoil a story,"
said Jumper. "You are quite right about old Mr. Lynx. He wasn't old
then. No one was old, because it was in the beginning of things. At that
time Mr. Lynx boasted a long tail, quite as fine a tail as his cousin,
Mr. Panther. He was very proud of it. You know there is a saying that
pride goes before a fall. It was so with Mr. Lynx. He boasted about his
tail. He said that it was the finest tail in the world. He said so much
that his neighbors got tired of hearing about it. He made a perfect
nuisance of himself. He switched and waved his long tail about
continually. It seemed as if that tail were never still. He made fun of
those whose tails were shorter or of different shape or less handsome.
He quite forgot that that tail had been given him by Old Mother Nature,
but talked and acted as if he had grown that tail himself.

"When at last his neighbors could stand it no longer, they decided to
teach him a lesson. One day while he was off hunting, they held a
meeting, and it was decided that the very next time that Mr. Lynx
boasted of his tail old King Bear should slip up behind him and step on
it as close to his body as he could, and then each of the others should
pull a little tuft of hair from it, so that it would be a long time
before Mr. Lynx would be able to boast of its beauty again.

"The chance came that very evening. Mr. Lynx had had a very successful
day, and he was feeling very fine. He began