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For Nimble's mother was very fond of certain vegetables that did not grow wild in the woods. Of course young Nimble did not know what she was talking about. He had a great deal to learn. And he would have to wait until he was a good deal bigger before his mother took him on an excursion, by night, across the fields to Farmer Green's garden patch.
We scarcely ever had to repeat the name of a thing more than two or three times for him to remember it; and he would run with alacrity to fetch whatever we asked for. We had much more trouble in teaching manners to our dumb companions; for in spite of Master Nimble's general docility, he was constantly playing some trick, or getting into scrapes of all sorts.
"He was grayish and he had black rings around his long bushy tail; and his long pointed nose stuck out from under a black mask." "Nonsense!" cried Nimble's mother. "You didn't see a Fox. You saw a Coon!" Nimble was puzzled. "You told me once," he reminded his mother, "that a Fox was a sly fellow with a bushy tail and a long pointed nose. And this person in the tree had " "Yes!
In fact he was sure that they wouldn't. One morning Nimble's mother said to him, "To-night, just as the moon rises, we'll start for Farmer Green's garden patch." He knew what that meant. It meant that he was going to know, at last, what carrots tasted like. And he was delighted. "You've improved fast," his mother told him. "You've grown a good deal.
While he was watching some of the Indian children at play, he saw a girl come out of the hut with a grey squirrel in her arms; it did not seem at all afraid of her, but nestled to her shoulder, and even ate out of her hand; and what was Nimble's surprise to see that this tame grey squirrel was none other than his own pretty sister Silver-nose, whom he had left in the hollow tree when they both ran away from the red squirrel.
"I was sure the moon fell into the lake and blew up," he explained. "What was that terrible noise we heard if it wasn't the moon bursting into pieces?" His mother didn't laugh. Instead she was quite solemn as she answered Nimble's last question. "That " she said "that was a gun that you heard. And the light that you saw came from a lantern in a boat."
But he didn't, because Jimmy Rabbit had warned him to keep perfectly still. As soon as his guests had left them Jimmy whispered to Nimble, "Lower your head a bit, for pity's sake!" Nimble promptly obeyed him. And Jimmy Rabbit hung the hats and coats upon Nimble's antlers. "Now," Jimmy said, "keep your head exactly where it is!"
And that remark didn't please Nimble's mother at all. Nimble's mother hadn't liked Mr. Grouse's remark about Foxes. Somehow she couldn't put Foxes out of her mind. And not once did she mean to let Nimble wander out of her sight. At first, when he was only a tiny chap, it was easy for her to keep her young son near her. But Nimble grew a little livelier with each day that passed.
But there was something about "Spike Horn" that sounded much more important. Somehow there was a new crop of Spike Horns that summer Nimble's second summer. And every one of them had been like him a little spotted fawn the year before. At first Nimble had thought it fun to use his new horns to jab anybody that happened to be with him.
"Good morning, Mr. Grouse!" said Nimble's mother. "Good morning, madam!" replied the gentleman with the fan. "What a handsome child you have! There's nothing quite like spots or speckles to add to a person's looks." "They are pretty," Nimble's mother agreed with a happy glance at her son. "I can't say he favors his mother," Mr. Grouse remarked.
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