Pitythelonely,fordeepintheheart Isanachethatnodoctorcanhealbyhisart. OfallthelittlepeopleoftheGreenForestWhitefootseemedtobetheonlyonewhowasunhappy. Andbecausehedidn’tknowwhyhefeltsohebecamedaybydaymoreunhappy. PerhapsIshouldsaythatnightbynighthebecamemoreunhappy,forduringthebrightnessofthedayhesleptmostofthetime. “Thereissomethingwrong,somethingwrong,”hewouldsayoverandovertohimself. “Itmustbewithme,becauseeverybodyelseishappy,andthisisthehappiesttimeofalltheyear.Iwishsomeonewouldtellmewhatailsme.Iwanttobehappy,butsomehowIjustcan’tbe.” Oneeveninghewanderedalittlefartherfromhomethanusual.Hewasn’tgoinganywhereinparticular.Hehadnothinginparticulartodo. Hewasjustwanderingaboutbecausesomehowhecouldn’tremainathome. NotfarawayMelodytheWoodThrushwaspouringouthisbeautifuleveningsong.Whitefootstoppedtolisten. Somehowitmadehimmoreunhappythanever. Melodystoppedsingingforafewmoments. ItwasjustthenthatWhitefootheardafaintsound.Itwasagentledrumming. Whitefootprickeduphisearsandlistened.Thereitwasagain. Heknewinstantlyhowthatsoundwasmade. Itwasmadebydaintylittlefeetbeatingveryfastonanoldlog. Whitefoothaddrummedthatwayhimselfmanytimes. Itwassoft,butclear,anditlastedonlyamoment. RightthensomethingverystrangehappenedtoWhitefoot. Yes,sir,somethingverystrangehappenedtoWhitefoot.Allinaflashhefeltbetter.Atfirsthedidn’tknowwhy.Hejustdid,thatwasall. Withoutthinkingwhathewasdoing,hebegantodrumhimself.Thenhelistened.Atfirstheheardnothing. Then,softandlow,camethatdrummingsoundagain.Whitefootrepliedtoit.Allthetimehekeptfeelingbetter. Heranalittlenearertotheplacefromwhichthatdrummingsoundhadcomeandthenoncemoredrummed.Atfirsthegotnoreply. Theninafewminuteshehearditagain,onlythistimeitcamefromadifferentplace.Whitefootbecamequiteexcited. HeknewthatthatdrummingwasdonebyanotherWoodmouse,andallinaflashitcameoverhimwhathadbeenthematterwithhim. “Ihavebeenlonely!”exclaimedWhitefoot.“Thatisallthathasbeenthetroublewithme.Ihavebeenlonelyanddidn’tknowit.IwonderifthatotherWoodmousehasfeltthesameway.” Againhedrummedandagaincamethatsoftreply. OncemoreWhitefoothurriedinthedirectionofit,andoncemorehewasdisappointedwhenthenextreplycamefromadifferentplace.Bynowhewasgettingquiteexcited. HewasboundtofindthatotherWoodmouse. Everytimeheheardthatdrumming,funnylittlethrillsranalloverhim.Hedidn’tknowwhy.Theyjustdid,thatwasall. HesimplymustfindthatotherWoodmouse.Heforgoteverythingelse. Hedidn’tevennoticewherehewasgoing.Hewoulddrum,thenwaitforareply. Assoonasheheardit,hewouldscamperinthedirectionofit,andthenpausetodrumagain. Sometimesthereplywouldbeverynear,thenagainitwouldbesofarawaythatagreatfearwouldfillWhitefoot’sheartthatthestrangerwasrunningaway. 
