Cinnabar, the One O’Clock Fox
Chapter 1 FOUR IS A JOLLY NICE NUMBER
It was April in Virginia. The brooks and runs on George Washington’s estate were overflowing in their hurry to join the big Potomac. Pussy willows along the banks were swollen to plumpness. And everywhere, the woods and meadows were alive with cheeps and chirrings and little feet scampering.
One morning just before the break of dawn, when
the moon was still shining brightly,...