Mrs. Hen clucked and tried to look wise. And at last she confided to Grumpy that her neighbor was a jealous creature and sure to speak ill of a stranger who came to call on anybody but herself.
Well, Grumpy Weasel told Mrs. Hen that he knew, when he first set eyes on her, that she was a sensible little body.
"You've a snug home here," he went on. "I can tell you that I'd like such a place to crawl into on a chilly, wet night." And though it was a warm, fine summer's day he shivered and shook, so Mrs. Hen could see.
And silly Mrs. Hen couldn't help feeling sorry for him.
XIV
GRUMPY VANISHES
Grumpy Weasel was quick to see that fat Mrs. Hen swallowed every word he said as greedily as if it had been an angleworm. "Yes! You have a fine house here," he said. "But of course you're crowded," he added gloomily, to show Mrs. Hen that he knew she had no place for him.
"Oh! Not at all!" Mrs. Hen assured him.
"And the door's always shut tight at night," he added, "on account of that prowling Tommy Fox."