Of course Master Meadow Mouse wasn't content to stay at home morning, noon and night. He scampered away whenever he pleased. Sometimes he went for a swim in Broad Brook. Sometimes he visited his cousins, who dwelt in other shocks in the cornfield. And every night he joined the big Meadow Mouse family in a frolic. They chased one another around the pumpkins that strewed the ground, dodged behind the shocked corn, or ran along the rail fence.
During the daytime Master Meadow Mouse and his companions lay low. When they went abroad they kept a close watch for Mr. Crow. Late as it was, the old gentleman still lingered in Pleasant Valley. Although his cronies had started on their yearly journey to the South, he let it be known that he was expecting to spend the winter in the North.
"I've noticed signs," he had said, "that tell me we're going to have a mild winter."
Whenever Mr. Crow visited the cornfield, the Meadow Mouse family hastened to hide. They didn't try to go to their own homes, but plunged inside the nearest shocks of corn.
Mr. Crow was far from stupid. He knew what was going on right under his nose—or his bill. Flapping towards the cornfield from the woods he could see a great scurrying of small, reddish-brown persons. But when he settled down in the field there was never a Meadow Mouse anywhere in sight.
"They're stealing corn!" the old gentleman spluttered. "I'd stop them if I could. But what can I do when they hide the moment they see me coming?"
The old fellow pondered over the question.
"Somebody," he said, "will have to tear these shocks apart in order to catch the Meadow Mouse people. And I don't know anyone that could do it better than Fatty Coon."
Now, Mr. Crow knew where Fatty Coon lived, in a hollow tree in Cedar Swamp. And he actually started to fly over to the Swamp and ask Fatty Coon to rid the cornfield of the Meadow Mouse family.
But on the way to Cedar Swamp Mr. Crow happened to think of something. He happened to think that Fatty Coon had an enormous appetite and was very fond of corn.