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A BIRTHDAY IN THE BURROW

MoLher Fox looked anxiously at the clock on the mantelpiece and then down the garden path. 'She sighed heavily and stirred the soup noisily lo cover the sound. Her ten children were clambering round the table. They were very, hungry, for it was long past lunch time. "Can't we begin?" begged Francis, the youngest. "Certainly not," said mother. "Whatever next? Without your father, indeed, and on my birthday!" "But why is he so long?" ■ "That's just it," groaned mother. "Why is he so long? Ever since we've lived here this house has been a worry to me with its one entrance. I can't think where he can have got to. It does upset me so when he's late, and I can hear the hunt in the distance. "It worries my tummy, too," chirped Francis. "Where has he gone?" "To find a new house. Now sit down and keen still. I don't want another word from any of you." It was only because her children were standing round watching her with great, wide: eyes that poor Mother Fox did not burst into tears. Instead, she went on stirring their dinner, which had been ready for so long that it must be nearly spoiled. She was a tender-hearted-little creature, and her big, brave, adventurous husband was alwaystscaring her out of her wits with his reckless goings-on. Of course, she always said that she would not have worried so had there been several entrances to their home. If one was cut off, there would still be others. He was so fearless. He padded through the woods in broad daylight, shouting and singing to himself, and doing all manner of other stupid things which would attract people's attention. Something dreadful was bound to happen one day, and she would be left with all the children to bring up and school. Had they been girls, it wouldn't have been so bad, but six of them were boys. She wasn't firm enough, and she never would be firm enough.

"If we don't eat soon," said Francis, in despair, "I shan't be able to

go nutting with the boys next door this afternoon. They are going to start early." ■ "Oh, how can you think of nutting," shouted the rest of the family in chorus, "when we don't know where father is?" "I just thought I might see something of him if I kept my eye 3 open," he said, in a small voice. "You never know." "Shut up," snapped the eldest son. "I wish it wasn't my birthday," said Mother Fox; ''it's horrid when you're upset on your birthday." "Don't you worry, mum. You ought to know him by now. Nothing ever happens to him." "But it might. I insist that we leave this place 10-morrow. It isn't safe." "I expect if we 'stop worrying and eat our food he will turn up before we've finished." "You can start then if you want to," said mother. And all the children jumped upon their, stqbls and the youngest ones clapped their spoons with joy and made a deafening noise. Sure enough, mother had hardly finished ladling out the soup b'efor.e father ran, panting, into the room. "Whew!" he gasped, "that's the narrowest squeak I've ever had in my life. Some huntsman has been chasing me for the last six miles. Many happy returns, mother. I didn't forget a little present for you. That's really what made me so long." He threw her a small box in which was a pretty gold chain. , "Oh, thank you^ctear," she said. "And did you hear of a house? I really can't stay in'this one any longer. You don't know how you worry me." £.■/.- '~'\. .;;.'. "I've found a beauty, right on the other side of the wood. There is a bedroom each for the. girls, the boys must share, and there is a garden —oh, about.three times the size of the one we have now." "And how about-the entrances?" said mother, anxiously. "I don't mind,about the bedrooms, it's.-. ." "Six, my dear," exclaimed father, joyfully. "One at each corner and two in the middle. .Is there any more soup?" "Six," repeated mother, as she rilled up-her husband's plate. "Now I shall have a little peace. At last you should be safe from the men and the hounds, for you can. run in easily. My dear, this is a happy birthday. I shall be able to hear the hunt without moving a hair of my tail!"

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/EP19290330.2.147.27

Bibliographic details

Evening Post, Volume CVII, Issue 73, 30 March 1929, Page 15

Word Count
745

A BIRTHDAY IN THE BURROW Evening Post, Volume CVII, Issue 73, 30 March 1929, Page 15

A BIRTHDAY IN THE BURROW Evening Post, Volume CVII, Issue 73, 30 March 1929, Page 15