Danny Fox Page #2

"Danny Fox" by David Cory is a charming children's story that follows the adventures of a clever and mischievous young fox named Danny. Set in a whimsical forest, Danny's escapades highlight themes of curiosity, friendship, and the importance of being true to oneself. The narrative unfolds with delightful illustrations and engaging prose, capturing the imaginations of young readers while conveying valuable life lessons. Through his adventures, Danny Fox learns about the joys and challenges of life in the wild, making it a delightful read for children and parents alike.

• Children

								


    “Now, old Danny Fox, you’ll go
     To jail in just a minute,
     And there you’ll stay for many a day
     Securely locked up in it,”

sang the Policeman Dog, swinging his club up and down just like the
leader of the orchestra in “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”

“I hope you’ll keep him there for even longer,” said the old
gentleman bunny. “He’s always after Little Jack Rabbit and me. Just
the other day he nearly caught up to the Luckymobile. If he had, he
would have bitten the tires.”

“He’s forever hanging around the ferryslip, waiting for a chance
to grab Grandmother Goose on her way home,” said the Billy Goat
Ferryman. “I never cross the river in my ferryboat but what I see him
sneaking along the shore.”

“He’s always trying to hold-up my stagecoach and rob the passengers,”
cried the Old Dog Driver, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “Only
last week a little pig passenger nearly died of fright when he
pointed his pistol at her.”

“He’s a bad lot,” said the Yellow Dog Tramp. “I often see him
stealing chickens from the farmyards.”

“He’d better keep away from my Cozy Cave,” growled the Big Brown
Bear. “If I ever catch him stealing lollypops I’ll break every bone
in his body.”

“Do you hear what they say about you?” asked the Policeman Dog,
giving Danny Fox a good shake.

“Please let me go,” begged the old fox, “I’ve two little boys at
home who will miss Daddy Fox if he isn’t home for supper.”

“Let him go,” begged the tender-hearted little bunny, “Bushytail and
Slyboots will miss him so. They think he’s a lovely father.”

“Well, what do you say?” asked the Policeman Dog, turning to Uncle
Lucky.

    “Oh, let me go home to my den in the rocks,
     Bushytail will be watching for me,
     And Slyboots will stand at the old kitchen door
     While Mrs. Fox puts on the tea.

     The red table cloth will be spread nice and smooth,
     The platters, all shiny and white.
     Oh, what will they do with the nice oyster stew
     If Daddy Fox comes not to-night?”

cried Danny Fox, tears falling from his eyes, as the Policeman
Dog waited for Uncle Lucky’s answer.

“Oh, pshaw,” cried dear kind Uncle Lucky, “let him
go.”

“I say so, too,” said the Yellow Dog Tramp. “That
song reminds me of one my dear old mother used to sing
before I left the farm to become a hobo doggie.”

“Maybe from now on he’ll behave,” cried the Billy
Goat Ferryman. “I have two little kids. I know how
they’d feel if their daddy didn’t come home.”

“Give the old fox another chance,” said the Old Dog
Stagecoach Driver. “I remember my two little bow-wows.
We had a nice home in the country.”

“I feel the same as you fellows,” cried the Big Brown
Bear. “My two little cubs waited every night for me to
tell them a bedtime story. They’re now in the circus, but
I always think of them as little fellows. Let the old fox
go for the sake of his two little boys.”

“Do you hear what they all say?” asked the Policeman
Dog.

“Yes,” whined Danny Fox, and away he ran as soon
as the Policeman Dog took off the handcuffs.

“Perhaps he’ll behave for a while,” said the Old Red
Rooster, flying down from the hayloft. “But it’s lucky
for Little Jack Rabbit that I could call you all on the wireless.
Maybe that isn’t a wonderful invention.”

“Come in and have some carrot cake and turnip tea,”
begged Lady Love, hopping out on the kitchen porch.

Pretty soon as they all sat around the table having a
fine feast, the Yellow Tramp Dog stood up on his hind
legs and barked, oh, so softly:

  “I’d go back to my boyhood day
   If I only knew the by-gone way.
   But I have changed since the Long Ago,
   With the summer wind and the winter snow,
   And my feet just miss the dear old lane
   Where the robin sings his sweet refrain,
   And the apple blossoms, white and pink,
   Fall in the nest of Bob-o-Link.”

Some day, dear boys and girls, I shall write a story
about the Yellow Dog Tramp. He just sort of rubs his
nose against my knee as I write these stories. Yes, he
looks up at me with big brown eyes that seem to say:

“Tell the children to be kind to yellow dogs.”

Dear children, never, never sling
A stone at any living thing.
The little bird that swiftly flies
Up in the country of the skies,
The friendly tabby cat that purrs
And humps that glossy back of hers,
The patient horse that draws the plough,
The ever-generous mooley cow,
Are all kind friends to you and me,
Created by God’s charity.
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