en thing
growing upon it, or any tree or shrub to shade it from the hot sun. And
not far away stood a round mound, also of baked earth, which Twinkle at
once decided to be a house, because it had a door and some windows in
it.

There was no living thing in sight--not even a woodchuck--and Twinkle
didn't care much for the baked-clay scenery.

Mister Woodchuck, holding fast to the chain, led his prisoner across the
barren space to the round mound, where he paused to rap softly upon the
door.

Chapter VII
Twinkle is Condemned

"COME in!" called a voice.

Mister Woodchuck pushed open the door and entered, drawing Tinkle after
him by the chain.

In the middle of the room sat a woodchuck whose hair was grizzled with
old age. He wore big spectacles upon his nose, and a round knitted cap,
with a tassel dangling from the top, upon his head. His only garment was
an old and faded dressing-gown.

When they entered, the old woodchuck was busy playing a game with a
number of baked-clay dominoes, which he shuffled and arranged upon a
baked-mud table; nor did he look up for a long time, but continued to
match the dominoes and to study their arrangement with intense interest.

Finally, however, he finished the game, and then he raised his head and
looked sharply at his visitors.

"Good afternoon, Judge," said Mister Woodchuck, taking off his silk hat
and bowing respectfully.

The judge did not answer him, but continued to stare at Twinkle.

"I have called to ask your advice," continued Mister Woodchuck. "By good
chance I have been able to capture one of those fierce humans that are
the greatest enemies of peaceful woodchucks."

The judge nodded his gray head wisely, but still answered nothing.

"But now that I've captured the creature, I don't know what to do with
her," went on Mister Woodchuck; "although I believe, of course, she
should be punished in some way, and made to feel as unhappy as her
people have made us feel. Yet I realize that it's a dreadful thing to
hurt any living creature, and as far as I'm concerned I'm quite willing
to forgive her." With these words he wiped his face with a red silk
handkerchief, as if really distressed.

"She's dreaming," said the judge, in a sharp, quick voice.

"Am I?" asked Twinkle.

"Of course. You were probably lying on the wrong side when you went to
sleep."

"Oh!" she said. "I wondered what made it."

"Very disagreeable dream, isn't it?" continued the judge.

"N