“Oh, they can whistle some. But I can beat them,” Billy answered.
“I have an idea,” said Mr. Fox. He really had a great many ideas in his head—more, probably, than any other of the forest-people. “I’m very fond of music and I want to have a fife-and-drum corps.”
“What’s that? I never heard of such a thing,” exclaimed Billy Woodchuck.
“Fifes and drums—they make music, you know,” Mr. Fox explained. “Now, everybody knows that old Mother Grouse’s sons are famous drummers.”
Billy agreed that that was true. He had often heard the Grouse boys drumming in the woods.
“I’ve already spoken to them. And they are asking me every day when we are going to begin to practise,” Mr. Fox continued. “But I couldn’t think of any fifers until I happened to remember about you and your brothers.”
“I don’t know how to play a fife,” said Billy. “I’ve never even seen one.”
“Oh, that’s nothing! You can hold a stick up to your mouth, and wriggle your fingers, and whistle. No one will know that you are not playing a fife. It will sound just the same. And the music will be just as sweet.” Mr. Fox smiled at Billy. And Billy smiled at him.
“Good!” said Billy. “Will you bring the drummers to my house?”
“Well—no! Not just yet!” said Mr. Fox. “We ought to go off in the woods, where nobody can hear us, until we learn a tune. Then we can come and play for your mother. But I wouldn’t say anything to her about the fife-and-drum corps if I were you. Let’s surprise her!”