"Why—ah!—well!" said his host, in some embarrassment, "it came near being serious,—at least Prick-ear thought it did. It seems he met Mr. Coon one day last autumn, when he was bringing home a load of checkerberries for supper. Mr. Coon wanted the checkerberries, and—ah!—in point of fact, ate them; and when Prick-ear remonstrated, he chased him all round the forest, vowing that if he caught him he would—if you will excuse my mentioning such a thing—eat him too. Now, that sort of thing is very painful, Mr. Toto; very painful indeed it is, I assure you, sir. And though Prick-ear escaped by running into a mole's burrow, I must confess that he has not felt kindly toward Mr. Coon since then."
"Very natural," said Toto, gravely. "I don't wonder at it."
"It has occurred to me," continued the woodmouse, "that possibly it may have been only a joke on Mr. Coon's part. Eh? what do you think? Seeing him so friendly and condescending here to-night, one can hardly suppose that he really—eh?—could have intended—"
"He certainly would not do such a thing now," said Toto, decidedly, "certainly not. He has the kindest feeling for all your family."
"A—exactly! exactly!" cried the woodmouse, highly delighted. "Most gratifying, I'm sure. But I see that the ceremony is about to begin. If you would excuse me, Mr. Toto—"
And the little host bowed himself away, leaving Toto to seat himself at leisure and watch the proceedings. These were certainly very interesting. The bride, an extremely pretty little mouse, was attired in a very becoming travelling-dress of brown fur, which fitted her to perfection. The ceremony was performed by a star-nosed mole of high distinction, who delivered a learned and impressive discourse to the young couple, and ended by presenting them with three leaves of wintergreen, of which one was eaten by each separately, while they nibbled the third together, in token of their united lives. When they met in the middle of the leaf, they rubbed noses together, and the ceremony was finished.
Then everybody advanced to rub noses with the bride, and to shake paws with the happy bridegroom. One of the first to do so was the raccoon, who comported himself with a grace and dignity which attracted the admiration of all. The little bride was nearly frightened to death, it is true; but she bore up bravely, for her husband whispered in her ear that Mr. Coon was one of his dearest friends, now.
Meanwhile, no one was enjoying the festivity more thoroughly than our little friend Cracker. He was whisking and frisking about from one group to another, greeting old friends, making new acquaintances, hearing all the wood-gossip of the winter, and telling in return of the wonderful life that he and Bruin and Coon were leading. His own relations were most deeply interested in all he had to tell; but while his cousins were loud in their expressions of delight and of envy, some of the elders shook their heads. Uncle Munkle, a sedate and portly chipmunk, looked very grave as he heard of all the doings at the cottage, and presently he beckoned Cracker to one side, and addressed him in a low tone.
"Cracker, my boy," he said, "I don't quite like all this, do you know? Toto and his grandmother are all very well, though they seem to have a barbarous way of living; but who is this Mrs. Cow, about whom you have so much to say; not a domestic animal, I trust?"