emark, his noisy friend began talking again.

"Besides," Mr. Coyote added, "I haven't time for digging, because I have
to practice singing. . . . If you don't mind, I'll practice a song right
now."

And without waiting to find out whether Benny Badger did mind or not,
Mr. Coyote began singing in the harshest of voices:

THE COYOTE'S SONG

When Mr. Sun has gone to bed to seek his needed rest,
And Mr. Moon has climbed the skies to flood the plains with light,
And Mrs. Wind blows softly from the foothills in the west,
I love to sing my _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_ in the night.

When morning comes I hurry home, to take my daily nap;
But when the spooky shadows fall and all the world is dark,
Oh! then's the time I'm wide awake and ready with a _yap_,
A happy, yappy _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_, and a bark.

And none that hears my lovely voice, when startled from a dream,
Will soon forget how I begin my chorus with a growl;
Nor how I quickly run the scale, to end it with a scream,
A happy, yappy _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_, and a howl.

Let them that do not know my ways cry fearfully for help,
And shake and shiver when they hear my loud and lusty call;
While I will merely jeer at them with something like a yelp,
A happy, yappy _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_, and a squall.

And now I will explain to you--perhaps you've guessed before
The lesson that I always strive with might and main to teach--
If you would frighten timid folk, alarm them with a roar,
A happy, yappy, _yip-ky, oodle-doodle_, and a screech.

"How do you like that?" Mr. Coyote asked with a grin, when he had
finished.

"Not very well!" said Benny Badger.

Mr. Coyote looked just the least bit crestfallen.

"Perhaps I haven't practiced the song as much as I should," he remarked.
And thereupon he started to sing it again.

But Benny Badger stopped him quickly.

"Don't!" he cried. And he held his paws, dirty as they were, over his
ears, as if he couldn't bear to hear that song another time.

Mr. Coyote smiled agreeably.

"I see," he said easily. "You don't enjoy music as I do. But I believe
we have one taste in common."

"What's that?" Benny Badger asked him; for in spite of his paws being
over his ears, he heard what Mr. Coyote said. "What's that?"

"Ground Squirrels!" Mr. Coyote replied, licking his chops as he spoke.

V

SPEAKING OF GROUND SQUIRRELS

Benny Badger stared n