bowser the hound lay in fanner brown's dooryard dozing in the sun. bowser was dreaming. yes, sir, bowser was dreaming. farmer brown's boy, passing through the yard on his way to the cornfield, laughed.
“sic him, bowser! sic him! that's the dog! don't let him fool you this time,” said he.
you see, bowser was talking in his sleep. he was whining eagerly, and every once in a while breaking out into excited little yelps, and so farmer brown's boy knew that he was dreaming that he was hunting, that he was on the trail of reddy fox or sly old granny fox. his eyes were shut, and he didn't; hear what fanner brown's boy said. the latter went off laughing, his hoe on his shoulder, for there was work for him down in the cornfield.
bowser kept right on getting more and more excited. it was a splendid hunt he was having there in dreamland. across the green meadows, along the edge of the green forest, and up through the old pasture he ran, all in his dream, you know, and just ahead of him ran old granny fox. not once was he fooled by her tricks, and she tried every one she knew. for once he was too smart for her, and it made him tingle all over with delight, for he was sure that this time he would catch her.
and then something queer happened. yes, sir, it was something very queer indeed. he saw granny fox stop just a little way ahead of him. she sat down facing him and began to laugh at him. she laughed and laughed fit to kill herself. it made bowser very angry. oh, very angry indeed. no one likes to be laughed at, you know, and to be laughed at by granny fox of all people was more than bowser could stand. he opened his mouth to give a great roar as he sprang at her and then—why, bowser waked up. yes, sir, he really had given a great roar, and had waked himself up with his own voice.
for a few minutes bowser winked and blinked, for the sun was shining in his eyes. then he winked and blinked some more, but not because of the sun. oh, my, no! it wasn't because of the sun that he winked and blinked now. it was because—what do you think? why, it was because bowser the hound couldn't tell whether he was awake or asleep. he thought that he was awake. he was sure that he was awake, and yet—well, there sat old granny fox laughing at him, just as he had seen her in his dream. yes, sir, there she sat, laughing at him. poor bowser! he just didn't know what to think. he rubbed both eyes and looked. there she sat, laughing just as before. bowser closed his eyes tight and kept them closed for a whole minute. perhaps when he opened them again, she would be gone. then he would know that she was only a dream fox, after all.
but no, sir! when he opened his eyes again, there she sat, laughing harder than ever. just then a hen came around a corner of the house. granny fox stopped laughing. like a flash she caught the hen, slung her over her shoulder and trotted away, all the time keeping one eye on bowser.
then bowser knew that this was no dream fox, but old granny fox herself, and that she had had the impudence and boldness to steal a hen right under his very nose! he was awake now, was bowser, very much awake. with a great roar of anger, he sprang to his feet, and started after granny, and startled the merry little breezes at play on the green meadows.