Freddy Goes to the North Pole by Walter R. Brooks

sophisticated.”
    At this unexpected word Ferdinand gave a little jump. Then he opened his beak to say something, but as he didn’t know what the word meant, he couldn’t think of any way to argue against it, and he just stood there with his beak open, looking very foolish.
    Mrs. Wiggins turned to the other animals. “Isn’t he too sophisticated?” she asked, and as none of them wanted to admit that he didn’t know what the word meant, they all nodded and said yes.
    Poor Ferdinand managed to pull his wits together somewhat. “I am not sophisticated!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been perfectly open and above-board about everything, and—”
    â€œOh, that isn’t what I mean at all,” said the cow; and as she didn’t know what she did mean, it was perfectly true.
    â€œWell, what do you mean, then?” asked the harassed crow.
    â€œJust what I say,” returned Mrs. Wiggins. She appealed to the others. “Isn’t it perfectly plain?” And they all nodded emphatically and said: “Yes, yes. Perfectly.”
    â€œWell, it isn’t what I mean by sophisticated,” said Ferdinand, now thoroughly mixed up.
    â€œJust what do you mean by it?” asked the cow coldly.
    And at that the crow just turned round and walked off with his shoulders hunched up and didn’t come near the others for the rest of the day. But it had done him some good, as Mrs. Wiggins observed with satisfaction, for from that time on he treated her with marked respect.
    They went on through the snowy woods for several days, and the snow came down in thick flakes and got deeper and deeper and harder and harder to walk through. The big animals didn’t mind it much, but the smaller animals and Charles and Henrietta and the children had to ride most of the time; and the children in particular were cold because they didn’t have warm enough clothing. They were only warm at night when they snuggled down under a feather bed between Uncle William and the bear. Moreover, it was a good deal harder to find enough food, now that the country was all covered with snow.
    So pretty soon the animals began to grumble. If Ferdinand was such a good leader, they said, he ought to be able to keep them from starving or freezing. They wouldn’t be much good to the animals they had come to rescue if they starved or froze stiff. And if the snow got much deeper, how were they going to travel at all? They asked Ferdinand these questions. “You’ve been here before,” they said. “How did you get food?”
    â€œWe took it with us in the old phaeton,” said the crow.
    â€œHow did you keep warm?”
    â€œWe took blankets with us and wrapped them around us.”
    â€œAnd how did you walk over the deep snow?”
    â€œWe made snowshoes,” said the crow. “I can show you how to do that.”
    â€œH’m,” said Jack thoughtfully. “That takes care of one thing. But what are we going to do for food and clothing?”
    â€œYes,” said Henrietta. “Why didn’t you tell us all this in the first place, when we started out? You didn’t think about anybody but yourself. You don’t mind the cold the way we do, and you can fly through the air and live on nuts and things that you steal from squirrels and chipmunks. It’s very easy for you . But why didn’t you think about us? A fine leader you are!”
    Ferdinand looked round out of the corners of his eyes at his comrades. It was perfectly true. When he had come back to organize the rescue party, he had been so full of his own importance that he had forgotten all about such little matters as proper food and clothing. He’d have to think of something pretty quickly, or they’d reduce him to the ranks and elect a new leader. He could see them looking meaningly at one another—even his bosom friend, Bill, was shaking his head very seriously and avoided his