Farmer Brown's boy understood. He understood perfectly that little
people like Whitefoot want their homes hidden away in the dark.
"Poor little chap," said Farmer Brown's boy." He had a regular
castle here and we have destroyed it. He's got the snuggest kind of
a little nest here, but he won't come back to it so long as it is
right out in plain sight. He probably thinks we have been hunting
for this little home of his. Hello! Here's his storehouse!
I've often wondered how the little rascal could eat so much, but
now I understand. He stored away here more than half of the good
things I have given him. I am glad he did. If he hadn't, he might
not come back, but I feel sure that to-night, when all is quiet, he
will come back to take away all his food. I must do something to keep
him here."
Farmer Brown's boy sat down to think things over. Then he got
an old box and made a little round hole in one end of it.
Very carefully he took up Whitefoot's nest and placed it under the
old box in the darkest corner of the sugar-house. Then he carried all
Whitefoot's supplies over there and put them under the box.
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