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Updated: June 7, 2025
But just as he passed Striped Chipmunk's granary, the place where he stores his supply of corn and acorns for the winter, Mr. Meadow Mouse met his cousin, Mr. Wharf Rat. Now Mr. Wharf Rat was very big and strong and Mr. Meadow Mouse had for a long time looked up to and admired him. "'Good evening, Cousin Meadow Mouse, said Mr. Wharf Rat, swinging a bag down from his shoulder.
When Striped Chipmunk let go of the string, Grandfather Frog promptly drew his feet back under the old board, but when he heard Striped Chipmunk's voice, he slowly and painfully crawled out. He told how he had been caught and tied by Farmer Brown's boy and finally dropped near the old board. He told how terribly frightened he was, and how sore his legs were.
Just because we both happen to wear stripes is no reason why we should be mistaken for each other." Peter looked at Seek-Seek more closely than he had, and at once he made a discovery. "Why!" he exclaimed, "your coat has more stripes than Striped Chipmunk's has, hasn't it?" "I should hope so," retorted Seek-Seek. "And it has little rows of spots, too!" cried Peter.
Uncle Sammy had eaten half his winter's supply of wheat. Sandy was angry, too. And for several days he was busier than ever, trying to think of some way in which he could make Uncle Sammy Coon pay him. Not long after Uncle Sammy Coon ate half of Sandy Chipmunk's wheat without paying for it he seemed to grow lamer than ever. And he walked less than ever, too.
Farmer Brown's boy was sitting just inside the window, looking out. At least, they thought it was Farmer Brown's boy, but when they got a little nearer, they grew doubtful. It looked like Farmer Brown's boy, and yet it didn't. His cheeks stuck way out just as Striped Chipmunk's do when he has them stuffed full of corn or nuts. Happy Jack stared at him very hard.
The sheep moved higher whenever I came too near them. Sometimes I dropped to all fours and gave an imitation of a playful pup; stopping to sniff loudly at a chipmunk's hole or to dig furiously with both hands. The sheep crowded forward appreciatively. Evidently they had a weakness for vaudeville. No acrobat, no contortionist, ever had a more flatteringly attentive audience.
Chipmunk just snuggled down flatter than ever and didn't say a word. Mr. Bob Cat felt round and round inside the hollow stump and raked his long claws on the sides until little Mr. Chipmunk's hair fairly stood up. Yes, Sir, it stood right up on end, he was so scared. When it did that, it tickled the claws of Mr. Bob Cat. Mr. Bob Cat grinned. It was an ugly grin to see.
The latter was a man about five feet six inches in height, slenderly built, yet with broad, hanging shoulders. His face was an exact triangle, beginning with a mop of red-brown hair, and ending with a pointed chin. Two level quadrilaterals served him as eyebrows, beneath which a strong hooked nose separated his round, brown, chipmunk's eyes.
All these, and many other kinds of food, found their way into Sandy Chipmunk's home. Much as he liked such things to eat and especially sunflower seeds he never ate a single nut or grain or seed while he gathered them for his winter's food. And when you stop to remember that he had to carry everything home in his mouth, you can see that Sandy Chipmunk had what is called self-control.
He was sure that it was Striped Chipmunk's storehouse, and he wouldn't admit to himself that he was going to steal, actually steal. But all the time, right down deep in his heart, he knew that if he took any of those hickory nuts it would be stealing. But Happy Jack had been careless. When he had made the doorway big enough for him to crawl inside, he had left his tail hanging outside.
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