But _smells_ can't hurt anybody." "With your notions of skunks," answered Uncle Andy, "you're going to get yourself into a heap of trouble one of these days.

I'd better tell you about what happened once when a small young skunk, out walking all by himself in the dewy twilight, happened to meet a large young bear." Now, the Babe had a great respect for bears.
"Huh!" said he scornfully.

"What could _he_ do to a bear ?" "The little skunk's name," said Uncle Andy, paying no heed to the interruption, "was Stripes Terror-Tail.

He was a pretty fellow, black and glossy, with two clear white stripes down his back on each side of his backbone.

His tail was long and bushy, and carried high in a graceful curve; and he was about the size of a half-grown kitten.
"Generally he went hunting with the rest of his family, for the Terror-Tails are affectionate and fond of each other's companionship.
But each one does just as he likes, in his easy way; so on this particular evening little Stripes had strolled off by himself over the dewy hillocks, catching fat crickets in the dim twilight, and hoping every minute that he might find a ground sparrow's nest under some bush." "Did he rob birds' nests ?" asked the Babe, remembering that this, for boys, was one of the deadly sins.
"He certainly did!" said Uncle Andy, who didn't like to be interrupted.
"That is, when he had a chance.