O, you should have seen the change in Mrs. Talky. She turned her whole face toward Wish-ton-wish now and fairly beamed upon him. "Very well, indeed, thank you," she answered; "you must call to see us." And this time I dare say she thought to herself, "Why, I can hardly realize that the young fellow is about grown up; how fine he looks, too; his family must have great confidence in him to let him be sentinel when he is so young." Wish-ton-wish thanked her politely for the invitation, and said that perhaps he might call that afternoon. "Have you heard that Mr. Grizzle Prairie Dog has been found?" asked Madam Talky. "No, where?" said Wish-ton-wish. "O, in a very strange place," madam answered. "It was Mr. Talky that found him. At least we feel pretty sure that he did. It was this way: Mr. Talky often has attacks of dyspepsia, and last night he ate so much timothy hay for his supper that he had to run back and forth in our burrows for exercise, ever so long before he went to bed. He put his head out at the end of the longest burrow to see if the moon was full and there stood two boys with a gun and a dead hawk. He heard them say they wanted the hawk for a 'collection.' Then one of them said, 'Wish we could have shot it before it caught that prairie-dog.' Mr. Talky was so dreadfully startled that he whirled round and fairly flew back through the burrow to his nest, but we feel sure it was Mr. Grizzle that the hawk had caught." "How many enemies our race has!" said Wish-ton-wish with a sigh. "Have you told Mrs. Grizzle the sad news?" "Yes, I told her before sunrise this morning; but she's got used to it now and doesn't feel so bad. He had been missing two days, you know. I saw her going after clover with Mr. Reddy Prairie Dog. You remember Mrs. Reddy was eaten up by a coyote last week." "Dear me, dear me," sighed Wish-ton-wish again, "how many enemies our race has!" Just then there came a warning yelp from a sentinel some distance away. Madam Talky and Wish-ton-wish and every other prairie-dog in sight echoed the yelp and then each one of them leaped into his burrow like a flash. They must have turned a double-quick somersault, for, like another flash there were the little heads and bright eyes looking out at the very openings where their tails had vanished an instant before. Scores of curious little faces were peering out and their owners were anxious to know what made the first prairie-dog call out, "Danger, danger!" Again came several quick calls from the distant sentinel; then all the little animals disappeared into their burrows. No, not quite all of them. Way over on Last street there was an exciting scene. Mr. Silence Prairie Dog sat upright in front of his door fairly shaking all over with anger. His body shook, his tail shook, his head shook, and he yelped and barked--turned and popped into his burrow--turned again and popped out of his burrow in the same instant, and acted like one going crazy.