V
BILLY STANDS GUARD
Old Mr. Woodchuck had a great deal of time on his paws. He was always telling people how a stone once rolled off a wall on top of him and hurt his back, so he was not strong enough to do much work. On pleasant days he was usually to be found sunning himself. And often when he leaned his lame back against a tree where the sun fell squarely upon him he would fall asleep and stay there for hours at a time.
Though he did no work at all, his appetite was always good. And when he heard that there were ripe apples, or lettuce, or some other dainty to be had, he always managed to get to the feast about as early as anybody else. At such times he seemed to forget how much his back hurt him.
There came a day when Mr. Woodchuck dashed home on a run. At first his wife thought there must be a fox chasing him. But as soon as he caught his breath (he was so fat that running always made him puff), he told Mrs. Woodchuck that a party of his friends was going to make a raid on Farmer Green’s clover-field.
“I’m going with them,” he said.
“Do you think you ought to?” she asked. “Isn’t it too far? Isn’t your back too lame?”
Mr. Woodchuck clapped his hands to his back and groaned a bit.