THE GREAT WOODCHUCK—FUR CHARM AGAINST Rabbit and Doctor sat among the bulrushes on the Frozen Pond and laughed and over the joke they were planning on the old woodchuck in Nibble’s hole. He had everybody believing that he came out of his hole on the day we call Groundhog Day (though the woodsfolk never use a rude nickname like that even for a woodchuck) and predicted the weather. That is, everybody believed it except Nibble Rabbit and Doctor Muskrat.
 
This was their plan. They would get every fieldmouse in the woods and fields looking for the woodchuck on that particular day. Then if he did wake up the joke would be on the fieldmice. And if he didn’t—well, you just listen!
 
Nibble all about, from the Frozen Pond to the little cornstalk tents in the Broad Field, looking for field-mice. And every time he found one he’d say, “What’s this story that’s going around? I hear that woodchuck fur plucked the day after the first February moon is a sure charm against owls. Just the littlest tuft woven into a nest will keep the young mice from being caught. Is there any truth in it?”
 
The mouse wouldn’t let on that any one knew more about mouse secrets than he did, so he’d say “Oh, that used to be an old mouse custom, but of late years it’s been hard to find a woodchuck.” And then he’d off to the holes and tunnels where the mice live and fuss and gossip and about it.
 
Then they all ended up at the great hollow , where Great-grandfather Mouse has lived for so very many years that his ears are all crinkled, and set that . And poor old Great-grandfather Mouse got so bewildered that he dragged himself down to the Frozen Pond to talk with Doctor Muskrat. Which was exactly what Doctor Muskrat had been hoping for.
 
The Doctor was very polite and pleased to see him. “Certainly,” he said, “I’ve heard the story. Fact is, I might have heard it from you yourself when we were both very young. But, dear, dear, my memory isn’t very good any more. Only I’m sure it was the day after the first February moon!” He didn’t want any mistake about that.
 
“Yes, yes,” agreed Great-grandfather Mouse, “I remember. I remember it all, now you call it to mind. But where could I find a woodchuck?”
 
“Well, seeing we’re such old friends,” whispered Doctor Muskrat, “I’ll let you know. But it’s a secret. He’s down in Nibble Rabbit’s hole. I expect that sly young bunny means to be married in the spring, and won’t his hole be nicely lined with woodchuck fur, just won’t it?”
 
“Great grass seeds!” exploded Great-grandfather Mouse. “It’s a mouse charm. No rabbit has anything to do with it.” So he off home, dragging his fat old tail and wagging his crinkled ears, and in half an hour more people knew about Doctor Muskrat’s secret than if Chatter Squirrel had shouted it from the treetops. They knew where the woodchuck was and they meant to get some fur off him, too.
 
And Nibble Rabbit was all but turning somersaults on his little paddy feet out behind the bulrushes because he was so amused over it.
 
The great day came at last—Groundhog Day—the day when the woodchuck ought to come out to the weather for spring. And Nibble Rabbit and Doctor Muskrat weren’t the only ones who were watching for him.
 
For all the snow around the mouth of Nibble’s hole was tunnelled by the mice, and they were scuffling and beneath it; so it’s a wonderful thing Silvertip the Fox didn’t hear them. And Nibble thought what a wonderful joke it would be if that woodchuck did come walking out of the hole. So he shook him and jounced him and pulled his round, mousy ears and his long whiskers. But, no! That woodchuck just wouldn’t wake up. So finally Nibble gave it up and crawled out of doors. And there at the mouth of the hole he met old Great-grandfather Fieldmouse, who was too fat and clumsy for any tunnel.
 
“Good morning,” said Nibble. “I see you’ve come to greet my friend Mr. Woodchuck when he comes out to foretell the weather.”
 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Great-grandfather Fieldmouse very . “This is the day we come for our regular charm of woodchuck fur to keep our young safe from owls.” He as solemnly as though he had done it every year of his life. “It’s a mouse charm,” he went on, “and no rabbit is going to keep us fr............