THE GREEDY OLD RAVEN, BUT GREEDY NO MORE
Well, next morn when the 'possum and 'coon passed along
They could see at the raven's that something was wrong,
For no blue curling smoke from the chimney-top came;
So they opened his door and they called out his name,
And they entered inside, and behold! on the floor
Was the greedy old raven, but greedy no more:
For his heart it was still—not a flutter was there—
And his toes were turned up and the table was bare;
Now his epitaph tells to the whole country-side
How he ate, and he ate, and he ate till he died.
When Mr. Crow finished, Mr. Rabbit said it was certainly an interesting poem, and if he just had a chance now to eat till he died he'd take it, and Mr. 'Coon said he'd give anything to know how that pie had tasted, and he didn't see how any one pie could be big enough to kill anybody that felt as hungry as he did now. And Mr. 'Possum didn't say much of anything, but only seemed drowsy and peaceful-like, which was curious for him as things were.
Well, all that day, and the next day, and the next, there wasn't anything to eat, and they sat as close as they could around the little fire and wished they'd saved some of the big logs and some of the food, too, that they had used up so fast when they thought the big snow would go away. And the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf got louder and louder, and he began to gnaw, too, and they all heard it, day and night—all except Mr. 'Possum, who said he didn't know why, but that for some reason he couldn't hear a sound like that at all, which was very strange, indeed.
But there was something else about Mr. 'Possum that was strange. He didn't get any thinner. All the others began to show the change right away, but Mr. 'Possum still looked the same, and still kept cheerful, and stepped around as lively as ever, and that was very strange.
By-and-by, when Mr. 'Possum had gone down-stairs for some barrel staves to burn, for the wood was all gone, Mr. Rabbit spoke of it, and said he couldn't understand it; and then Mr. 'Coon, who had been thinking about it too, said he wondered why it sometimes took Mr. 'Possum so long to get a little bit of wood. Then they all remembered how Mr. Possum had stayed so long down-stairs whenever he went, even before Old Hungry-Wolf came to the Hollow Tree, and they couldn't understand it at all.
And just then Mr. 'Possum came up with two little barrel staves which he had been a long time getting, and they all turned and looked at him very closely, which was a thing they had never done until that time. And before Mr. 'Possum noticed it, they saw him chew—a kind of last, finishing chew—and then give a little swallow—a sort of last, finishing swallow—and just then he noticed them watching him, and he stopped right in his tracks and dropped the two little barrel staves and looked very scared and guilty, which was strange, when he had always been so willing about the wood.
