A respectful silence had fallen over the assembly; for “Who shall follow the king?” As soon as the jackrabbit had gotten over that terrible reference to rabbits enough to steady his voice, he called upon the coyotes for remarks. Both sprang briskly to their feet, and as neither one would give way to the other, they addressed the assembly in alternate barks: “I am thankful that I am so swift a runner that no dog can catch me.” “And I am thankful because I can scare almost any dog that tries to catch me. How they do run and howl when I turn on them!” “Chickens and ducks and geese are plentiful; and though the chickens learn to fear us and roost high, ducks and geese are always on the ground and can neither fly nor run.” “This has been a fine season for young pigs, and I also caught several lambs that made tender eating.” “There are such delightful thickets along the rivers and streams, that coyotes have plenty of safe hiding places. I have made good burrows beside the Ninnescah and Arkansas rivers, the Cowskin and Honey creeks, and I go back and forth at pleasure. Yes, Kansas is a pretty good country for coyotes—barring the dogs and men.” “Yes, barring the dogs and men.” Both coyotes sat down and the little cotton-tail spoke: “Life is hard and dangerous for a rabbit at best. There are so many enemies to fear, and even our swift flight often fails to save us. I have fared well this year. I found a place where the farmer keeps no dogs and owns no gun. To be sure, he had woven-wire fences around his garden and his young orchard, but I found a cunning little hole in the fence behind one of the grapevines that was just made for a door for a poor little rabbit, and I tell you I have lived high. Such peas and lettuce and cabbage as that man did have! Enough for twenty rabbits like me. Then for a change I nibbled the tender shoots on the grapevines, and now am expecting to get my living this winter by gnawing the bark from several hundred young fruit trees which he has set out. I have already found a hole under the fence. So I have cause to be thankful to-day.” The little prairie dog sat up stiffly and tried to look dignified as he addressed the assembly. “Life has been full of ups and downs for me and for my friends, the rattlesnakes and owls. We had made a fine burrow in a broad pasture, and all last year we lived there in peace. This year the man who owned it concluded to plow it up for a cornfield; and the first thing he did, he turned the water from a slough right into our beautiful prairie dog town and flooded all our carefully dug homes. Many of my brothers and cousins were drowned or rushed out of their holes only to be slain by the dreadful dogs and men.