“Anything,” replied Unc' Billy. “Ah reckons Ah ain't no ways particular--insects, roots, Frogs, Toads, small Snakes, Lizards, berries, fruits, nuts, young Rats and Mice, corn, any old meat that has been left lying around. Ah reckon Ah could find a meal most any time most anywhere.” “Do you always have as big a family as you have there?” asked Peter Rabbit. “Not always,” replied Unc' Billy. “But sometimes Mrs. Possum has to tote around a still bigger family. We believe in chillun and lots of them. We reckon on havin' two or three big families every year.” “Where is your home?” asked Johnny Chuck. “I know,” said Peter Rabbit. “It's up in a big hollow tree.” Unc' Billy looked down at Peter. “'Tisn't at all necessary to tell anybody where that hollow tree is, Bre'r Rabbit,” said he. “Are Possums found anywhere except around here?” inquired Happy Jack. “Yes, indeed,” replied Old Mother Nature. “They are found all down through the Sunny South, and in the warmer parts of the Middle West. Unc' Billy and his relatives are not fond of cold weather. They prefer to be where they can be reasonably warm all the year round. “Some folks think Unc' Billy isn't smart, but those folks don't know Unc' Billy. He learned a long time ago that he can't run as fast as some others, so he has learned to depend on his wits in time of danger. What do you think he does?” “I know,” cried Peter; “I saw him do it once. Farmer Brown's boy surprised Unc' Billy, and Unc' Billy just fell right over dead.” “Pooh! That's a story, Peter Rabbit. How could Unc' Billy have fallen over dead and be alive up in that tree this very minute?” cried Happy Jack. “I didn't mean he was really dead, but that he looked as if he were dead,” explained Peter. “And he did, too. He was the deadest looking thing I ever saw. I thought he was dead myself. I was watching from a bramble tangle where I was hiding, and I certainly thought the life had been scared right out of Unc' Billy. I guess Farmer Brown's boy thought so too. He picked Unc' Billy up by the tail, and looked him all over, and said, 'You poor little thing. I didn't mean to hurt you.' Unc' Billy didn't so much as wink an eye. Farmer Brown's boy went off up the path carrying Unc' Billy by the tail. By and by he laid Unc' Billy down on an old stump while he went to look at a nest of Blacky the Crow. When he came back Unc' Billy wasn't there. I never did see Unc' Billy hurry as he did the minute Farmer Brown's boy's back was turned. He came to life as suddenly as he had dropped dead.” “Very good, Peter,” said Old Mother Nature. “Some other smart little people try that trick sometimes, but none of them can do it as well as Unc' Billy Possum. Pretending to be dead in order to remain alive is the cleverest thing Unc' Billy does. Now how about Lightfoot the Deer for the next lesson?” “Splendid,” cried all together and prepared to start for their homes. CHAPTER XXXV Lightfoot, Blacktail and Forkhorn