"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.
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