“Maybe his dog could,” suggested Winkie.
“Yes, a dog is smarter than a man when it comes to that,” said Mr. Woodchuck. “But don’t worry any more right away. Eat the good things I brought home, and I will think what is best to do.”
The three woodchuck children, Winkie, Blinkie, and Blunk, soon forgot their troubles in eating the sweet carrots and turnip. Even though Blunk had eaten so much clover he could hardly run, he was now ready for the good things his father had brought home.
“Where did you get them?” asked Blinkie, nibbling the end of a carrot.
“I found them in a field,” answered Mr. Woodchuck. “There were so many I don’t believe the farmer will mind my taking a few.”
“Maybe they were planted by the same man who fired a gun at Winkie and me,” suggested Blunk.
“Maybe,” said his father. “Why don’t you eat some?” he asked his wife, for she had not even nibbled the outside skin of the turnip.
“I am too worried to eat!” she answered. “I hate to think of having to move.”
“Perhaps we may not be driven to that,” said Mr. Woodchuck, who was more cheerful than his wife. “And if we do, we can easily dig a new burrow, or find a place to stay. This is summer, and the ground is soft.