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Updated: May 5, 2025
"While you're working for me I'll spend all my time in the clover-patch.... And now," he added, "I'd like to see a sample of your digging." "Come right this way!" Grandfather Mole directed. And Billy Woodchuck followed, and looked carefully at the small hole that Grandfather Mole pointed to with an air of pride. "Here's one of my doorways," he announced.
"I don't see what ever put such a silly thing into my head," said Mary, finally, beginning to feel mortified as she realized what an excitement she had created for nothing. "It was Rob's talking about people who live a regular cat and dog life," said Betty. "Don't you remember how long we talked about it to-day down in the clover-patch?"
It was a long, winding path from the gate. The grounds looked very beautiful in the golden light of the afternoon sun. The pink clover-patch nodded with a thousand heads, and sprinkled the air with sweetness. Everything was very quiet: no one was on the piazza, no one at the windows. The blinds were all shut, and you could fancy that the house had closed its many eyes and dropped asleep.
Crow, "I should break my rule if I were you and visit the garden. Find Grandfather Mole and have a talk with him!" So Billy Woodchuck decided that he would take Mr. Crow's advice. And though he hated to leave the clover-patch he set out that very afternoon to find Grandfather Mole and ask him if he wouldn't like to help dig a winter home in the pasture.
"I have an engagement," he explained, "to stand guard in the clover-patch, while my father and some other old gentlemen feast on clover-tops." "Are they expecting an attack?" Major Monkey inquired, pricking up his ears. "Of course not!" said Billy Woodchuck. "They're not expecting one, or they would stay safe at home. But you never can tell what old dog Spot is going to do.
If each pot contained, as it was supposed to have done, about that sum, this would have required four trips to and from the clover-patch. Now, a singular circumstance went far to prove the hour at which the crime was committed.
"There's only one thing to do," she muttered to herself. "I'll speak to old dog Spot about this Woodchuck youngster." So she did, that very evening. When Spot came to drive the cows home she told him that there was a young son of Mrs. Woodchuck who spent most of his time in the clover-patch. "I know you'll be interested to hear the news," she said. Old Spot shook his head.
"I've just come from the clover-patch myself; and that's twice as far." Daddy Longlegs thanked him. And then he turned and tottered on again. For a long time he walked as fast as he could. It seemed to him that he must have been travelling at least half an hour. But he saw not the slightest sign of the oat field, though he climbed a fence and peered across the rolling meadow.
And I haven't a doubt that the trouble is just this: You've eaten too much clover." Billy Woodchuck was a great deal wiser than the Muley Cow had ever suspected. She had thought she could frighten him. By telling him that he couldn't see well because he had eaten too much clover, she actually expected to keep him out of the clover-patch.
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