"Ho, ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha!
Hee, hee!" Unc' Billy broke off short, right in the very middle of his
laugh. He had just thought of something, and it wasn't funny at all.
With all those traps set at every opening to the hen-house, no one
could get in without getting caught, and of course no one who was in
could get out without getting caught!
The joke wasn't on Farmer Brown's boy, after all; it was on Unc' Billy
Possum. But Unc' Billy couldn't see that it was any joke at all. Unc'
Billy was a prisoner, a prisoner in Farmer Brown's hen-house, and he
didn't know how ever he was going to get out of there.
"It's a long way home," said Unc' Billy mournfully, as he peeped out
of a crack toward the Green Forest.
XIX
WHAT THE SNOW DID
Unc' Billy Possum did a lot of thinking. He was a prisoner, just as
much a prisoner as if he were in a cage. Now Unc' Billy Possum
wouldn't have minded being a prisoner in the hen-house but for two
things; he was dreadfully afraid that his old friend and partner,
Jimmy Skunk, would get hungry for eggs and would get caught in the
traps, and he was still more afraid that Farmer Brown's boy would
think to put his hand down under the hay in the last nest of the top
row in the darkest corner. So Unc' Billy spent most of his time
studying and thinking of some way to get out, and if he couldn't do
that, of some way to warn Jimmy Skunk to keep away from Farmer Brown's
hen-house.
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