But they seemed to think I wasn't of much account." "Oh!" protested the Babe politely.

It did not seem to him quite right that Uncle Andy should be regarded lightly, even by an otter.
"Well, you know, I _wasn't_ of much account.

I was neither dangerous, like Jim Cringle, nor good to eat, like a muskrat or a pickerel.

So I don't appear any more in this yarn.

If you find yourself wondering how I came to know about some of the things I'm going to tell you, just make believe I got it from the chickadee, who is the most confidential little chap in the world, or from the whisky-Jack, who makes a point, as you may have observed, of knowing everybody else's business." "Or from Jim Cringle ?" inquired the Babe demurely.
But Uncle Andy only frowned.