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Updated: May 13, 2025
"I have a thermos bottle full; but it's under that seat he's on." Together they gently lifted the body of the Weasel, and succeeded in getting hold of the bottle of hot coffee. Hen poured a steaming portion into the cup, and with difficulty they forced it between the Weasel's lips. He swallowed a little, and presently opened his eyes. "Close call," he said with a faint smile.
So it is not surprising that his big black eyes snapped nor that he said something in a fierce voice that sounded like "Chip, chip, chip," but meant something a good deal worse. And to add to Grumpy Weasel's rage, somebody had laughed hoarsely somebody that sat in a tall elm across the road. If he could have caught Mr.
A look of hate flashed into the Weasel's lowered eyes and was gone. He raised them timidly. "So far, so good, Excellency. I hung on behind the tonneau. No one noticed in that lazy village. I could hear the Colonel talking to the two small boys with him.
"I don't know," he replied. "Perhaps I did! If I didn't I don't know where he is." Tommy Fox couldn't help looking disappointed. "I'm sorry about one thing," he said. "It was all done so quickly I didn't see the fur fly!" Then there was a faint sound above them. And looking up, Tommy and Mr. Owl saw Grumpy Weasel's head sticking out of a small hole high up in the tree-trunk.
My family have always worn red. The neighbors wouldn't know me in anything else. Or if they did they'd say I was putting on airs." "If you want to know what I think, I'll tell you that red's entirely too good for you," Grumpy Weasel sneered. Tommy Fox smiled somewhat sourly. Grumpy Weasel's remark did not please him. But he managed to say nothing disagreeable.
The attendant motioned to Jim, and they went silently into an office where another man, also in while, sat at a desk, and took down in a big book the circumstances of the Weasel's arrival. He finished, then Jim saw him reach under the desk and press a button. Immediately the door opened, and a couple of heavily built men in plain blue uniforms entered.
Another proof of the weasel's affection for her young, was witnessed by a labourer, who, while standing on a foot-path close to the hedge side, perceived a weasel with one of her young ones in her mouth. He kicked her, and she, dropping it, retreated into a hedge. He then stood over the young one with a stick in his hand, not intending to kill it, but merely to see how its mother would proceed.
It was a three-year job for even a first offender, ten for one already on nodding terms with the police and fifteen to twenty for well, say, for a man like you, Weasel IF HE WERE CAUGHT! Am I making myself quite plain?" The colour in the Weasel's cheeks faded a little his eyes were holding in sudden fascination upon Jimmie Dale. "I see that I am," observed Jimmie Dale pleasantly.
Within the half hour Sir Tristram with the two yeomen were on their way to meet Sir Percival and Sir Launcelot. So, strangely, they who sought him, were to find him come among them. The Weasel's Nest "Greeting, good knights," he announced. "I am Sir Tristram." Nothing could have thrown Sir Launcelot's party into greater astonishment. And yet no news could have been pleasanter.
About the same time the moor-hen, borne swiftly along by the wind on her way to the river, reached the hills, and seeing the hare, flew low down and delivered the weasel's message as well as she could.
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