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Written by: Arthur Scott Bailey,
1915
Recorded by: Patricia Thornton-Houser

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player.
Click on green words to read a simple definition in English. All
other words are from the first 1000 words on the Nation frequency
word list. If you would like to take a test on the first 1000 English
words, go here.
It was the very next night
after old dog Spot had treed
Fatty Coon in the big oak
near the cornfield. They had finished their evening meal
at Farmer Green's house. The cows were milked, the horses had been
fed,
the chickens had all gone to
roost. And Farmer Green looked up at the moon, rising
from behind Blue Mountain.
"We'll go coon-hunting
again tonight," he said to Johnnie and the hired
man. "The corn has brought the coons up from the swamp.
We'll start as soon as it grows a little darker."
Well--after a while
they set out for the cornfield. And sure
enough! Old Spot soon began to bark.
"He's treed!"
said Farmer Green, pretty soon. And they all hurried
over to the edge
of the woods, where Spot had chased
a coon up into a tall chestnut
tree. In the moonlight they could see the coon quite plainly.
"Another little fellow!"
cried Farmer Green. "I
declare, all the coons that come to the cornfield seem to be
young ones. This one's no bigger than the one we saw last night."
Now, although Farmer
Green never guessed
it, it was Fatty Coon who was up there in the tall chestnut. He
had run almost to the woods
this time, before he had to
take to a tree. In fact, if Spot hadn't been quite so close
to him, Fatty could have reached the woods, and then he would have
just jumped from one tree to another. But there were no trees near
enough to the big chestnut for that. Fatty had to stay right there
and wait for those men to pass on. He wasn't afraid.
He felt perfectly safe in his big tree. And he only smiled when
Johnnie Green said to his father--
"I wish I had
that young coon. He'd make a fine pet."
"A pet!"
exclaimed
Farmer Green. "You remember that pet fox
you had, that stole
my chickens?"
"Oh, I'd be
careful," Johnnie promised. "Besides, don't you think
we ought
to catch
him, so he won't eat any more corn?"
Farmer Green smiled.
He had been a boy himself, once upon a time, and he had not forgotten
the pet coon that he had owned when he was just about Johnnie's
age.
"All right!"
he said at last. "I'll give you one more chance, Johnnie. But
you'll have to see that this young coon doesn't kill any of my poultry."
Johnnie promised that
nothing
of the sort should happen. And then his father and the hired
man picked up their axes; and standing on opposite
sides of the tall chestnut tree, they began to chop.
How the
chips did fly! At the very first blow
Fatty knew that this was an entirely
different sort of chopping from that which Johnnie had attempted
the night before. The great tree shook
as if it knew that it would soon come crashing
down upon the ground.
And as for Fatty Coon,
he could not see how he could avoid
falling when the tree did. He, too, shivered
and shook. And he wrapped
himself all the way around a tree
limb and hung
on as tight
as ever he could.
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(c) 2006 - 2007 Patricia Thornton-Houser |