"Is the poke becoming to her?" Aunt Polly asked Mrs. Woodchuck.
"I haven't set eyes on it," Mrs. Woodchuck said. "Old Mr. Crow told me the news only this morning. I asked him to describe the poke. But all he could say was that I'd be surprised when I saw it."
"That's the way with men folks," Aunt Polly Woodchuck declared. "They never know anything about the styles—except that queer Mr. Frog, the tailor."
Both ladies at the mention of Ferdinand Frog. And while they were busy tittering, Mrs. Woodchuck's son Billy helped himself to a piece of carrot from Aunt Polly's store of roots and herbs.
"I must have a look at the Muley Cow this very morning," Aunt Polly told her caller. "Won't you come with me?"
Mrs. Woodchuck said that nothing would please her more. So she ordered Billy to home.
"You'll have to wait till I put on my best poke," Aunt Polly said. "If the Muley Cow has a new one I don't want to call on her in my second best."
So Mrs. Woodchuck waited. And at last they set off together to find the Muley Cow. They hadn't gone far before old Mr. Crow flapped down on a near them.
"If you're looking for the Muley Cow," he squawked, "you'll find her down near the lane. And she's wearing her new poke, too."
They thanked him. And as soon as they had passed on Mrs. Woodchuck remarked what a busybody he was.
"Always
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