Every one looked at Danny Meadow Mouse. In appearance he was as unlike Whitefoot as it was possible to be and still be a Mouse. There was nothing pretty or graceful about Danny. He wasn't dainty at all. His body was rather stout, looking stouter than it really was because his fur was quite long. His head was blunt, and he seemed to have no neck at all, though of course he did have one. His eyes were small, like little black beads. His ears were almost hidden in his hair. His legs were short and his tail was quite short, as if it had been cut off when half grown. No, those two cousins didn't look a bit alike. Danny felt most uncomfortable as the others compared him with pretty Whitefoot. He knew he was homely, but never before had he felt it quite so keenly. Old Mother Nature saw and understood. “It isn't how we look, but what we are and what we do and how we fit into our particular places in life that count,” said she. “Now, Danny is a homely little fellow, but I know, and I know that he knows that he is just fitted for the life he lives, and he lives it more successfully for being just as he is. “Danny is a lover of the fields and meadows where there is little else but grass in which to hide. Everything about him is just suited for living there. Isn't that so, Danny?” “Yes'm, I guess so,” replied Danny. “Sometimes my tail does seem dreadfully short to look well.” Everybody laughed, even Danny himself. Then he remembered how once Reddy Fox had so nearly caught him that one of Reddy's black paws had touched the tip of his tail. Had that tail been any longer Reddy would have caught him by it. Danny's face cleared and he hastened to declare, “After all, my tail suits me just as it is.” “Wisely spoken, Danny,” said Old Mother Nature. “Now it is your turn to tell how you live and what you eat and anything else of interest about yourself.” “I guess there isn't much interesting about me,” began Danny modestly. “I'm just one of the plain, common little folks. I guess everybody knows me so well there is nothing for me to tell.” “Some of them may know all about you, but I don't,” declared Jumper the Hare. “I never go out on the Green Meadows where you live. How do you get about in all that tall grass?” “Oh, that's easy enough,” replied Danny. “I cut little paths in all directions.” “Just the way I do in the dear Old Briar-patch,” interrupted Peter Rabbit. “I keep those little paths clear and clean so that there never is anything in my way to trip me up when I have to run for safety,” continued Danny. “When the grass gets tall those little paths are almost like little tunnels. The time I dread most is when Farmer Brown cuts the grass for hay. I not only have to watch out for that dreadful mowing machine, but when the hay has been taken away the grass is so short that it is hard work for me to keep out of sight.