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Updated: June 17, 2025
He didn't know that Unc' Billy was about until Unc' Billy said: "Good mo'ning, Brer Meadow Mouse." Now Danny had always been delighted to see Unc' Billy Possum and to have a chat with him whenever Unc' Billy would stop. But this morning no sooner did Danny hear Unc' Billy's voice than he turned his back to Unc' Billy. This was more than Unc' Billy could stand.
It is regarded as a motor or secondary activity, the key to the innervation of which is located in the presentations of the Unc. Through the domination of the Forec. these presentations become, as it were, throttled and inhibited at the exit of the emotion-developing impulses.
The latch on the door rattled. Unc' Billy crept into one of the nests, but frightened as he was, he couldn't keep from peeping over the edge to see what would happen. The door swung open, letting in a flood of light. The hens stopped their noise. Farmer Brown's boy stood in the doorway and looked in.
You see, he had been the cause of a lot of the trouble on the Green Meadows and in the Green Forest, and he knew that now all the little meadow and forest people had found him out. So he didn't dare send his invitations around by the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind, for fear that no one would pay any heed to them. Of course that meant that Unc' Billy must take them around himself.
"No insults, please," answered the phonograph in a surly tone. "You did it, my boy; don't blame me." "You've bungled everything, Dr. Pipt," added the Glass Cat, contemptuously. "Except me," said the Patchwork Girl, jumping up to whirl merrily around the room. "I think," said Ojo, almost ready to cry through grief over Unc Nunkie's sad fate, "it must all be my fault, in some way.
He didn't see Johnny Chuck peeping from behind a tall bunch of meadow grass, or Peter Rabbit peeping from behind a tree on the edge of the Green Forest, or Bobby Coon looking from a safe hiding place in the top of that same tree. He didn't see Jimmy Skunk or Unc' Billy Possum or Happy Jack Squirrel or Digger the Badger. He didn't see one of them, but they saw him.
Sometimes Unc' Billy wished that he was back in the old hollow tree, and sometimes he was glad that he was right where he was. Sometimes he felt little shivers of fear run all over him as he thought of what might become of him if he should be found. Sometimes a little tickly feeling of pleasure ran all over him, as he bit a hole in the end of a freshly laid egg and sucked the egg out of the shell.
"Bowser the Hound will have to be smarter than he is now befo' he can worry me, Ah reckon," said Unc' Billy Possum scornfully. "It isn't Bowser the Hound; it's Farmer Brown's boy and his gun!"
Cert'nly," replied Ol' Mistah Buzzard. "Is Buzzard really your fam'ly name?" asked Unc' Billy. "No, Brer Possum, it isn't," replied Ol' Mistah Buzzard. Everybody looked surprised. You see, no one ever had heard him called anything but Buzzard. But no one said anything, and after a minute or two Ol' Mistah Buzzard explained. "Mah fam'ly name is Vulture," said he.
"He's ailin' pretty consid'able, these days." "What's the matter with Unc' Spicer?" demanded the girl, in genuine anxiety. Every one along Misery called the old man Unc' Spicer. "I can't jest make out." Her informer spoke slowly, and his brow corrugated into something like sullenness. "He hain't jest to say sick.
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