ed. "I must learn
that backward somersault. It's a good thing to know."

[Illustration: Master Robin Escapes From Grumpy Weasel. (_Page 9_)]

You can see that Mr. Chippy was a very humble person. But Mr. Jolly
Robin's eldest son was quite proud. Already he began to feel that he had
been very skilful in escaping. But of course it was only an accident
that he got away.

For once in his life Grumpy Weasel had been careless. It had looked so
easy--catching that clumsy young robin! He had spoken to Master Robin,
not dreaming that he could save himself. To make matters worse, Grumpy
had found Mr. Chippy's nest empty. And Grumpy Weasel was the sort of
person that liked to find a bird at home when he called. It always made
him more ill-natured than usual to make a call for nothing. And now he
had let a stupid young Robin escape him. So it is not surprising that
his big black eyes snapped nor that he said something in a fierce voice
that sounded like "Chip, chip, chip," but meant something a good deal
worse.

And to add to Grumpy Weasel's rage, somebody had laughed hoarsely--somebody
that sat in a tall elm across the road.

If he could have caught Mr. Crow there is no doubt that Grumpy would
have made that black scamp sorry that he laughed. But old Mr. Crow was
too wary to let anybody surprise him. "Haw, haw!" he laughed again. And
Grumpy Weasel actually couldn't bear to hear him. Some of the onlookers
claimed afterward that they saw Grumpy Weasel start down the tree. And
that was as much as they could say. No one knew how he managed to slip
out of sight. And the field people say that he was never seen again in
that exact spot.

IV

HUNTING A HOLE

Usually Grumpy Weasel did not stray far from a certain corner of Farmer
Green's wood lot. He preferred to hunt where he knew the lay of the
land. And since he liked especially to hunt along old stone walls, he
picked out a long stretch of old tumble-down wall that reached through
the woods towards Blue Mountain.

He picked it out as his very own hunting ground and never asked
permission of Farmer Green, either.

Now, near the lower end of this wall--the end toward the pasture--a fat
person known as Mr. Meadow Mouse sometimes wandered. But he never
visited that spot without first inquiring whether Grumpy Weasel had been
there the day before. Mr. Meadow Mouse had learned somehow that Grumpy
usually moved on each day to a different part of his hunting ground. He
was