CHAPTER VI.
IT was a bright clear night, when Toto, accompanied by the raccoon and the squirrel, started from home to attend the wedding of the woodmouse's eldest son. The moon was shining gloriously, and her bright cold rays turned everything they touched to silver. The long icicles hanging from the eaves of the cottage glittered like crystal spears; the snow sparkled as if diamond-dust were strewn over its powdery surface. The raccoon shook himself as he walked along, and looked about him with his keen bright eyes.
"What a fine night this would be for a hunt!" he said, sniffing the cold bracing air eagerly. "I smell something, surely! What is it?"
"Rats, maybe!" suggested the squirrel. "There is the track of one yonder."
"No, this is not a rat!" said the raccoon, sniffing again. "It's a—it's a cat! that's what it is, a cat! Do you see a track anywhere? I wonder how a cat came here, anyhow. I should like to chase her! It is a long time since I chased a cat."
"Oh, never mind the cat now, Coon!" cried Toto. "We are late for the wedding as it is, with all your prinking. Besides," he added slyly, "I didn't lend you that red cravat to chase cats in."
The raccoon instantly threw off his professional eagerness, and resumed the air of complacent dignity with which he had begun the walk. Never before had he been so fully impressed with the sense of his own charms. The red ribbon which he had begged from Toto set off his dark fur and bright eyes to perfection; and he certainly was a very handsome fellow, as he frisked daintily along, his tail curling gracefully over his back.
"We shall make a sensation!" he said cheerfully; "we shall certainly make a sensation. Don't you think so, Toto?"