VI. Samples of Wheat - Page 2

Once more Uncle Sammy ate it all.

"It's a bit damp," he remarked, as he smacked his lips. "I hope it's not moldy.... You'd better let me see another sample."

Uncle Sammy declared the next heap of kernels to be altogether too dry. And he kept ordering Sandy to fetch more for him to "taste," as he called it. Some of the wheat he considered too ripe, and some too green. Some of the kernels--so he said--were too little, and others too big. And finally he even told Sandy Chipmunk that he was afraid Sandy was trying to sell him last year's wheat.

Now, Sandy knew that his wheat was fresh--all of it. So he went down and brought up still another load.

Uncle Sammy ate that more slowly, for by this time he had had a good meal.

"How do you like it?" Sandy asked him.

"It's fair," Uncle Sammy replied. "But I believe it's next year's wheat. And of course I wouldn't think of buying that kind.... I guess I can't trade with you, after all." And he started to hobble away.

When Sandy heard that, and saw the old fellow leaving, he began to scold.

"Aren't you going to pay me for what you've eaten?" he asked.

"What! Pay you for the samples?" Uncle Sammy asked. "I guess, young man, you don't know much about keeping a store. Nobody ever pays for samples." And he went away muttering to himself.

Sandy Chipmunk felt very sad. Uncle Sammy had eaten half his winter's supply of wheat.

Sandy was angry, too. And for several days he was busier than ever, trying to think of some way in which he could make Uncle Sammy Coon pay him.