<h3><SPAN name="XII" id="XII"></SPAN>XII</h3>
<h3>CHATTERER IS SURE THAT THIS IS HIS LAST DAY</h3>
<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>here was no hope, not the teeniest, weeniest ray of hope in the heart
of Chatterer, as Farmer Brown's boy picked up the wire rat-trap and
started for the house, Black Pussy, the cat, following at his heels and
looking up at Chatterer with cruel, hungry eyes. Chatterer took a
farewell look at the Old Orchard and way beyond it the Green Forest,
from which he had been driven by fear of Shadow the Weasel. Then the
door of the farmhouse closed and shut it all out. If there had been any
hope in Chatterer's heart, the closing of that <span class="pagenum">[Pg 58]</span>door would have shut the
last bit out. But there wasn't any hope. Chatterer was sure that he was
to be given to Black Pussy for her breakfast.</p>
<p>Farmer Brown's boy put the trap on a table. "What have you there?"
called a great voice. It was the voice of Farmer Brown himself, who was
eating his breakfast.</p>
<p>"I've got the thief who has been stealing our corn in the crib," replied
Farmer Brown's boy, "and who do you think it is?"</p>
<p>"One of those pesky rats," replied Farmer Brown. "I'm afraid you've been
careless and left the door open some time, and that is how the rats have
got in there."</p>
<p>"But it isn't a rat, and I don't believe that there is a rat there,"
replied Farmer Brown's boy in triumph. "It's that little scamp of a red
squirrel <span class="pagenum">[Pg 59]</span>we've seen racing along the wall at the edge of the Old
Orchard lately. I can't imagine how he got in there, but there he was,
and now here he is."</p>
<p>"What are you going to do with him?" asked Farmer Brown, coming over to
look at Chatterer.</p>
<p>"I don't know," replied Farmer Brown's boy, "unless I give him to Black
Puss for her breakfast. She has been teasing me for him ever since I
found him."</p>
<p>Farmer Brown's boy looked over to the other side of the table as he said
this, and his eyes twinkled with mischief.</p>
<p>"Oh, you mustn't do that! That would be cruel!" cried a soft voice. "You
must take him down to the Green Forest and let him go." A gentle face
with pitying eyes was bent above the trap. "Just see how frightened the
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 60]</span>poor little thing is! You must take him straight down to the Green
Forest right after breakfast."</p>
<p>"Isn't that just like Mother?" cried Farmer Brown's boy. "I believe it
would be just the same with the ugliest old rat that ever lived. She
would try to think of some excuse for letting it go."</p>
<p>"God made all the little people who wear fur, and they must have some
place in his great plan," said Mrs. Brown.</p>
<p>Farmer Brown laughed a big, hearty laugh. "True enough, Mother!" said
he. "The trouble is, they get out of place. Now this little rascal's
place is down in the Green Forest and not up in our corn-crib."</p>
<p>"Then put him back in his right place!" was the prompt reply, and they
all laughed.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 61]</span>Now all this time poor Chatterer was thinking that this surely was his
last day. You see, he knew that he had been a thief, and he knew that
Farmer Brown's boy knew it. He just crouched down in a little ball, too
miserable to do anything but tremble every time any one came near. He
was sure that he had seen for the last time the Green Forest and the
Green Meadows and jolly Mr. Sun and all the other beautiful things he
loved so, and it seemed as if his heart would burst with despair.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;">
<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 62]</span></p>
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