Uncle Billy Possum Tries His Old Trick
The first knowledge Unc’ Billy Possum had that he was discovered came to him through his tail. Yes, Sir, it came to him through his tail. Farmer Brown’s boy pinched it. It was rather a mean thing to do, but Farmer Brown’s boy was curious. He wanted to see what Unc’ Billy would do. And he didn’t pinch very hard, not hard enough to really hurt. Farmer Brown’s boy is too good-hearted to hurt any one if he can help it.
Now any other of the Green Forest and Green Meadows people would promptly have pulled their tail away had they been in Unc’ Billy’s place. But Unc’ Billy didn’t. No, Sir, Unc’ Billy didn’t. That tail might have belonged to any one but him so far as he made any sign. Of course, he felt like pulling it away. Any one would have in his place. But he didn’t move it the tiniest bit, which goes to show that Unc’ Billy has great self-control when he wishes.
Farmer Brown’s boy pinched again, just a little harder, but still Unc’ Billy made no sign. Farmer Brown’s boy chuckled and began to pull on that tail. He pulled and pulled until finally he had pulled Unc’ Billy out of his hiding-place, and he swung by his tail from the hand of Farmer Brown’s boy. There wasn’t the least sign of life about Unc’ Billy. He looked as if he were dead, and he acted as if he were dead. Any one not knowing Unc’ Billy would have supposed that he was dead.
Farmer Brown’s boy dropped Unc’ Billy on the floor. He lay just as he fell. Farmer Brown’s boy rolled him over with his foot, but there wasn’t a sign of life in Unc’ Billy. He hoped that Farmer Brown’s boy really did think him dead. That was what he wanted. Farmer Brown’s boy picked him up again and laid him on a box, first putting a board over the hole in the floor and closing the henhouse door. Then he went about his work of cleaning out the henhouse and measuring out the grain for the biddies.
Unc’ Billy lay there on the box, and he certainly was pathetic looking. A dead animal or bird is always pathetic looking, and none was ever more so than Unc’ Billy Possum as he lay on that box. His hair was all rumpled up, as it usually is. It was filled with dust from the floor and bits of straw. His lips were drawn back and his mouth partly open. His eyes seemed to be closed. As a matter of fact, they were open just a teeny, weeny bit, just enough for Unc’ Billy to watch Farmer Brown’s boy. But to have looked at him you would have thought him as dead as the deadest thing that ever was.
As he went about his work Farmer Brown’s boy kept an eye on Unc’ Billy and chuckled. “You old fraud,” said he. “You think you are fooling me, but I know you. Possums don’t die of nothing in hens’ nests. You certainly are a clever old rascal, and the best actor I’ve ever seen. I wonder how long you will keep it up. I wish I had half as much self-control.”
When he had finished his work he picked Unc’ Billy up by the tail once more, opened the door, and started for the house with Unc’ Billy swinging from his hand and bumping against his legs. Still Unc’ Billy gave no sign of life. He wondered where he was being taken to. He was terribly frightened. But he stuck to his old trick of playing dead which had served him so well more than once before.