transcriber's note: brief descriptions of each illustration are given in (parentheses). the author's name on the cover was punctuated as shown.] denslow's humpty dumpty adapted and illustrated by w. w denslow [illustration (humpty dumpty)] g. w. dillingham co. publishers new york. copyright 1903 by w. w. denslow published, august 1903 [illustration (humpty dances for three children and a dog): to edward hall.] humpty dumpty. [illustration (bare humpty sitting)] humpty-dumpty was a smooth, round little chap, with a winning smile, and a great golden heart in his broad breast. only one thing troubled humpty, and that was, that he might fall and crack his thin, white skin; he wished to be hard, all the way through, for he felt his heart wabble when he walked, or ran about, so off he went to the black hen for advice. this hen was kind and wise, so she was just the one, for him to go to with his trouble. "your father, old humpty," said the hen, "was very foolish, and would take warning from no one; you know what the poet said of him: 'humpty-dumpty sat on a wall, humpty-dumpty had a great fall; all the king's horses, and all the king's men cannot put humpty-dumpty together again.' [illustration (humpty talks to the hen)] "so you see, he came to a very bad end, just because he was reckless, and would not take a hint from any one, he was much worse than a scrambled egg; the king, his horses and his men, did all they could for him, but his case was hopeless," and the hen shook her head sadly. [illustration (humpty's father after his fall)] "what you must do," continued the hen, as she wiped a tear from her bright blue eye, "is to go to the farmer's wife, next door, and tell her to put you into a pot of boiling hot water; your skin is so hard and smooth, it will not hurt you, and when you come out, you may do as you wish, nothing can break you, you can tumble about to your heart's content, and you will not break, nor even dent yourself." so humpty rolled in next door, and told the farmer's wife that he wanted to be put into boiling hot water as he was too brittle to be of any use to himself or to any one else. [illustration (humpty talks to the farmer's wife)] "indeed you shall," said the farmer's wife, "what is more i shall wrap you up in a piece of spotted calico, so that you will have a nice colored dress; you will come out, looking as bright as an easter egg." [illustration (humpty in his calico bundle goes into the pot)] so she tied him up in a gay new rag, and dropped him into the copper kettle of boiling water that was on the hearth. it was pretty hot for humpty at first, but he soon got used to it, and was happy, for he felt himself getting harder every minute. he did not have to stay in the water long, before he was quite well done, and as hard as a brick all the way through; so, untying the rag, he jumped out of the kettle as tough and as bright as any hard boiled egg. [illustration (decorated humpty emerges from the pot)] the calico had marked him from head to foot with big, bright, red spots, he was as gaudy as a circus clown, and as nimble and merry as one. [illustration (humpty jumps from a high shelf)] the farmer's wife shook with laughter to see the pranks of the little fellow, for he frolicked and frisked about from table to chair, and mantelpiece; he would fall from the shelf to the floor, just to show how hard he was; and after thanking the good woman most politely, for the service she had done him, he walked out into the sunshine, on the clothes-line, like a rope dancer, to see the wide, wide world. * * * * * [illustration (full page: humpty walks a tightrope while farmer's wife looks on)] [illustration (humpty sits on a wall playing the banjo)] of the travels of humpty-dumpty much could be said; he went east, west, north and south; he sailed the seas, he walked and rode on the land through all the countries of the earth, and all his life long he was happy and content. [illustration (full page: humpty rides a mouse jumping a hurdle)] [illustration (old man with ear trumpet listens to humpty singing)] sometimes as a clown, in a circus, he would make fun for old and young; again, as a wandering minstrel, he twanged the strings of his banjo and sung a merry song, and so on through all his travels, he would lighten the cares of others, and make them forget their sorrows, and fill every heart with joy. [illustration (humpty greets little girl with doll)] but wherever he went, in sunshine or in rain, he never forgot to sing the praises of the wise black hen nor the good, kind farmer's wife, who had started him in life, _hardened_ against sorrow, with a big heart in the right place, for the cheer and comfort of others. [illustration (humpty and small boy sit on wall while full moon looks on)] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * denslow's picture books for children for these books w. w. denslow has revised and adapted several of the best classical fairy tales. he has improved these stories by elimination of all coarseness, cruelty, and everything that might frighten children. they are new; more beautiful and striking in both text and picture than any children's books heretofore published. each book is filled with pictures of action and fun in brilliant colors. the twelve books are uniform in size. denslow's abc book denslow's one ring circus denslow's tom thumb denslow's humpty dumpty denslow's old mother hubbard denslow's jack and the bean-stalk denslow's zoo denslow's house that jack built denslow's three bears denslow's little red riding-hood denslow's 5 little pigs denslow's mary had a little lamb copyright, 1903, w. w. denslow _price 25 cents each; indestructible, mounted on linen, 50 cents each_ _g. w. dillingham company, publishers, new york_ (this file was produced from images generously made available by florida's publication of archival, library & museum materials (palmm)) [illustration] [illustration] dear santa claus charming holiday stories for boys and girls [illustration] handsomely illustrated copyright, 1901, by w. b. conkey company chicago w. b. conkey company publishers [illustration] _the night before christmas._ [illustration] [illustration] 'twas the night before christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in the hope that st. nicholas soon would be there. the children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] and mamma in her kerchief, and i in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap; when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, i sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. away to the window i flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. the moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to objects below- when what to my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, with a little old driver so lively and quick, i knew in a moment it must be st. nick. [illustration] [illustration] more rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name- "now, dasher! now, dancer! now, prancer! now, vixen! on, comet! on, cupid! on, dunder and blixen! to the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! now, dash away! dash away! dash away! all!" as dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, so up to the house-top the coursers they flew with the sleigh full of toys, and st. nicholas, too. [illustration] [illustration] and then in a twinkling i heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each tiny hoof. as i drew in my head, and was turning around, down the chimney st. nicholas came with a bound. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] he was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; a bundle of toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like a pedlar just opening his pack. his eyes--how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry; his droll little mouth was drawn up in a bow, and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow. [illustration] he spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings--then turned with a jerk, and laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew, like the down of a thistle; but i heard him exclaim ere he drove out of sight, "merry christmas to all, and to all a good-night!" [illustration] _the night after christmas._ [illustration] 'twas the night after christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring--excepting a mouse. the stockings were flung in haste over the chair, for hopes of st. nicholas were no longer there. the children were restlessly tossing in bed, for the pie and the candy were heavy as lead; while mamma in her kerchief, and i in my gown, had just made up our minds that we would not lie down, when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, i sprang from my chair to see what was the matter. away to the window i went with a dash, flung open the shutter, and threw up the sash. the moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the lustre of noon-day to objects below, i knew at a glance it must be dr. brough. i drew in my head, and was turning around, when upstairs came the doctor, with scarcely a sound. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] he wore a thick overcoat, made long ago, and the beard on his chin was white with the snow. he spoke a few words, and went straight to his work; he felt all the pulses,--then turned with a jerk, and laying his finger aside of his nose, with a nod of his head to the chimney he goes:- "a spoonful of oil, ma'am, if you have it handy; no nuts and no raisins, no pies and no candy. these tender young stomachs cannot well digest all the sweets that they get; toys and books are the best. but i know my advice will not find many friends, for the custom of christmas the other way tends. the fathers and mothers, and santa claus, too, are exceedingly blind. well, a good-night to you!" and i heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight: "these feastings and candies make doctors' bills right!" [illustration] nelly's visit one summer, nelly's auntie, who lived in the country, asked her to come and make a good, long visit, and you may be sure nelly was very glad to go. [illustration] she had always lived in the city, and she thought it great fun to feed the hens and chickens and calves, and to watch all the animals and talk to them. [illustration] cousin fred was about her own age, so it was very pleasant for them to play together. fred took her around the farm and told her about all the pets, and they soon knew her as well as though she had always lived there. milly, one of the horses, would eat out of a spoon, and nelly and her cousin took turns feeding her. when they went away, she whinnied for them to come back again, but nelly said, "you shall have some more to-morrow; you mustn't be a piggy-wiggy." [illustration] one day fred and nelly gathered flowers in the woods, and nelly made a wreath to put upon her cousin's head. "it seems just like fairyland out here," she said. "let's play it is fairyland, and i'm a fairy and you're a brownie." [illustration] fred thought that a very good game indeed, and they played that they lived in the flowers and could change themselves into birds, or squirrels, or people, whenever they wished. but bye and bye they got hungry, and they couldn't live on the honey from the flowers, as real fairies might; so they spread out the lunch which they had brought and decided to be children again. it seemed as though they had never tasted anything quite so good as that lunch. [illustration] [illustration] one day speckle, the big hen, made a great fuss because her brood of ducklings went into the water. she flew about here and there on the bank of the stream, and called to them to come back, but the ducklings were having great fun and paid no attention at all to her. [illustration] chanticleer seemed to think they were not very well behaved and needed a good scolding; so he began to strut about and talk at the top of his voice; but the ducklings had their swim and came out as happy as could be. nelly thought the little chicks were prettier. [illustration] shep, the dog, could hunt eggs as well as they could, and he always helped them. after he had found a nest, he took each egg carefully in his mouth, and laid it in the basket which the children had brought; and he never broke one. "i believe he could count them if he tried," said nelly. "of course he can count," said fred. "when we send him after the cows, he never leaves one behind, nor the sheep either. if one strays away, he hunts for it until he finds it. but he wouldn't hurt one of them for anything, no matter how hard he had to work to bring them in." [illustration] they watched the milking, and drank all the warm milk they wanted; and one day they helped churn. "i believe i could make butter, too," said nelly. "of course you could, dear," said her auntie; "it wouldn't take long for you to learn, either." nelly was delighted with this, and wanted to begin right away. fairy stories laura, eva, and susy are three sisters who are very fond of fairy stories, as most little girls are. laura is the oldest, and reads the stories aloud to the others, while humpty-dumpty, the kitten, sits near and listen--or, at least, he seems to be listening. [illustration] but sometimes he gets tired of sitting still and jumps right up on laura's book, so she has to stop. then they all have a great frolic, and very often little brother harry comes in to join in the fun, and they play until they are tired out. [illustration] [illustration] one story which they like very much is about a little girl who was lost in the woods and wandered about for a long, long time, until she was so tired that she fell asleep on the ground, with the flowers all around her and the birds singing. [illustration] but the birds were really fairies and were watching over her to see that she was not harmed, and they sang to her on purpose to lull her to sleep, for they knew how tired she was. [illustration] and when she wakened, she understood what they said to her and knew they were fairies, and they led her out of the forest and all the way to her home. they asked her to come and visit them again, too, and promised to take good care of her. [illustration] another of their favorite stories is about the flower fairies who come and dance and sing for little children in the forest when it is very still and the sun is shining brightly. [illustration] laura says she thinks she has almost heard them sometimes, talking to the birds; and they often sit very quiet indeed, with their dollies hugged tightly in their arms, and listen and watch. [illustration] once eva went to sleep when she was watching like this, out in the grove back of her home, and she dreamed that a fairy came and danced for her and sang the sweetest songs you ever heard. [illustration] "she was just like a little girl, too," said eva. "she was bare-footed and hadn't any hat on her head, and she wanted me to come and dance with her." [illustration] "did you?" asked little susy, breathlessly. [illustration] "of course!" said eva. "we danced and danced and had just a lovely time together, and then i had to go and wake up." "oh, oh, oh, i wish i could have a dream like that!" cried little susy; and she went and lay down on the couch right away, to see if she couldn't go to sleep and dream about fairies, too. [illustration] but when she wakened, she said that all she could dream about was just a lot of little frogs sitting up very straight on the bank of a brook, with a great, big frog on a great, big log talking to them. [illustration] "i think that was a lovely dream," said laura; and then little susy was happy. [illustration] "now let's read some more stories," said eva, and perhaps next time we'll see some really-truly fairies. _--fannie e. ostrander._ [illustration] [illustration] kate and dick had a good many pets. there were frisk and ponto and fuss and another little dog called fly. there was the pony, fleet, and the newest pet of all was a dear little colt that kate's papa had given to her for her very own because the pony she rode really belonged to dick. this colt she had named fairy, and she took great care of it. fly and fairy were good friends, and they had a funny way of looking at each other that made the children laugh. then the baby that they all loved lived here. her name was may, and she was kate's sister. she was a sweet little thing, just beginning to walk and to talk. she could say "chicky" quite plainly, and she liked to toddle out and watch the little girls feed the chickens. but i can't begin to tell you all the good times the children had that summer. they were happy all the time, and grandma said they were so good that it was really no trouble at all to have them there. [illustration] but at last one saturday evening, papa, who always came out from the city to spend sunday with them, said they must start for home the next monday. they did want to stay longer, but papa laughed and said, "christmas is coming now, you know, and santa claus couldn't bring things way out here as easy as he could get them to you in town." then the children began to think of christmas and to tease grandpa and grandma to come and spend it with them, and of course papa and mamma teased too; so at last they promised, and the children said good-by to their pets and to kate and may and dick and went away shouting? "good-by, grandma. now remember you promised!" [illustration] [illustration] after the children reached home they talked of grandma's nearly all the time when they were not talking of christmas, and bessie wrote a letter to santa claus asking him to be sure and bring a pair of his nicest gold-bowed spectacles for grandma because she had lost her old ones, and not to forget a gold-headed cane for grandpa. at last christmas eve came, and grandma and grandpa were there, and the children hung up their stockings, and bessie said that grandma and grandpa must be sure and hang up theirs too; then, after they had gone to bed, the smaller children whispered for a long time about santa claus and listened to hear his sleigh bells on the roof. "i don't see how he can get down the chimney," whispered bessie. "you know he's so fat in all his pictures." "maybe he takes off his coat," whispered clara, "then he wouldn't be quite so big." but she didn't see how he could get down the chimney, either. once or twice they were sure they heard him on the roof, and they covered up their heads so he wouldn't think they were peeping, and at last they went to sleep before they knew it. willie and tom were just as anxious as the little girls, and whispered just as much, and they all dreamed of santa claus. [illustration] bessie and clara were the first ones up. they shouted with delight when they looked in their stockings. there was a dear little dolly in each stocking--a dolly with real hair and eyes that opened and shut, and the dollies were dressed very prettily. they were too large to go into the stockings, so they just stood in them, looking as though they were ready to jump down. willie found the funniest jumping-jack in his stocking, and tom pulled a flute out of his. he had everybody awake in no time after that. grace was happy when she looked in her stocking. there was a little plush box in it, and in the box was a lovely gold watch; while harry found just what he wanted too--a pair of skates. but grandma and grandpa were surprised when they discovered the spectacles and the cane. "who in the world could have told santa what we wanted most?" said grandma. grandpa said he couldn't understand it either, and then bessie had to tell the secret. she ran up to each of them and whispered, "i wrote to him myself!" then how they kissed her. all day long the library was kept closed; not a child was allowed to peep in. but what fun they had all day, and what a christmas dinner, with a plum pudding as big as a pumpkin. in the evening the library door was opened, and there was the prettiest christmas tree, all blazing with candles and hung with pretty things; while piled around it were books and toys and everything that everybody wanted most. and just think of it! there, lying in front of the tree and looking as happy as the children themselves, was a great, big, noble dog, who got up and came to meet them as they trooped in. "ooo! ooo! ooo!" cried bessie, bending to pat his head. "what's your name, you great, big darling? ooo! ooo! whose is he, papa?" "ask santa claus," said papa; and sure enough, santa claus stepped out from behind the tree. "his name is on his collar," said santa claus. then the children all rushed for him for they knew it was grandpa dressed up like santa claus. [illustration] afterwards bessie spelled out the dog's name, "c-a-r-l-o," on his collar, and her own name on a card which was tied to it, and she was the happiest little girl in the world. but everyone else was happy too, and they all said it was the very merriest christmas they had ever seen, and clara and bessie dreamed that santa claus told them he himself had never had so much fun before. _fannie e. ostrander._ off on the wheels one summer alma and her brother philip spent their vacation with their auntie, who lived in a beautiful village, so near the pretty country that they could take a ride out into it on their wheels, at any time they wished. [illustration] they both rode very well indeed, and they were always finding pretty little spots along the road-side, where they played camp out; for auntie let them take a lunch if they wanted to, and the air was so fresh and pure that they were hungry almost all the time. [illustration] one morning they started off quite early with their wheels and their lunch, and they rode out into the country on a pretty road where they had never been before. [illustration] it had great trees along the side and a little river winding along with it, and they saw the cattle and horses in the fields, and the hens and chickens and turkeys and geese along the road-side, and once they got off their wheels to talk to a pretty bossy and her calf that were very near the fence. [illustration] the bossy was a little afraid they might hurt her baby, so she wasn't quite friendly. but she didn't try to drive them away. [illustration] at one side of a farm-house near, a big dog was lying in his kennel, and a great black cat came up to him very slyly and tapped him on the nose with one paw. it was funny to see the dog jump up. [illustration] the birds sang, and the hens and chickens talked to each other, and once or twice they stopped to let a flock of geese cross the road in front of them. [illustration] then they came upon a big flock of turkeys, and the gobbler put on airs and pretended he was going to stop them; but they flew past and laughed at him. [illustration] by the side of the road in one place, a big, fat, clean-looking pig was standing, sunning himself; but when he saw them, he ran away, squealing. [illustration] "you needn't run from us," philip called after him; "we don't want any pork to-day--we've got chicken for our lunch." [illustration] "yes," said alma, "and nice, fresh strawberries, and everything good." they saw a big dog lying near a chicken-coop, with the chickens running over him just as they pleased, and philip called out again, "be careful, you little fellows, or you might happen to run down his throat." [illustration] [illustration] they got off their wheels and walked for a little while just for fun; and all at once, as they were passing a barn, alma cried, "look! did you see that cat after the mouse?" philip said he didn't; but pretty soon mrs pussy came out. [illustration] "you didn't get it, did you?" said alma. "well, you're fat enough now; you don't need to catch mice." they stopped to eat their lunch under a clump of trees not very far from a pleasant farm-house. there was a cunning little fat dog lying in front of the house, and as they watched him, up came a bee and lit on his nose. [illustration] the little doggy jumped up and barked at the bee; then he sat down and put up his nose in a friendly way, to see what it was. [illustration] "look out, sir!" cried philip. "you'll get hurt!" but he spoke just a little too late, for puppy-dog found out his mistake, and the next minute he was running away and yelping at the top of his voice. [illustration] "the poor little thing!" said alma. "wasn't that too bad?" "yes," said philip, "but he'll get over it pretty quick, and i can't help laughing, it did look so funny." [illustration] when they went back to their auntie's, they told her that was the best bicycle ride they had ever had. [illustration] --_fannie e. ostrander._ [illustration] the summer holidays: a story for children. by amerel. new-york: d. appleton & company, 200 broadway 1851. entered according to act of congress, in the year 1850, by d. appleton and company, in the clerk's office of the district court for the southern district of new york. [illustration: daddy hall's donkey.] contents chapter i. uncle harvey's parlor chapter ii. the evening walk chapter iii. a visit to daddy hall chapter iv. the walk through the woods chapter v. what uncle harvey said about rain chapter vi. how thomas killed a hawk chapter vii. about bats chapter viii. the walk to the creek chapter ix. the hard battle chapter x. about corn and the uses of animals chapter xi alice gray chapter xii. locusts chapter xiii. the return home the summer holidays. chapter i. uncle harvey's parlor. mr. harvey's two sons, thomas and john, were very anxious for their cousin, samuel reed, to spend the august holidays with them. his father said that he might; and when school was closed for the season, samuel bade his father good bye, and was soon in the carriage, driving toward uncle harvey's country seat. the boys had not seen each other since new year's day. it was a happy meeting when samuel jumped out of the carriage, by the gate leading from the main road up to mr. harvey's house; for there his uncle, and two cousins, were waiting for him. thomas and john, each grasped a hand, while their father led the way to the house. "we were afraid you were not coming," said john. "how tall you have grown since christmas," exclaimed thomas. "were you not tired of being in the hot city such weather as this?" samuel said that he was; and then they all entered the house, while the driver brought in samuel's baggage. it was about five o'clock in the afternoon when samuel reached his uncle's house. he was taken into a small parlor, which opened upon a garden where many flowers were in bloom. it was a warm day, but this room was cool and fragrant; and on the table were several plates of fruit, and some cakes, which his uncle caused to be placed there, so that he might eat some as soon as he arrived, while samuel was eating some of them john said: "we are so glad you have come, samuel. last winter you could see nothing but snow." "what became of the snow-man we made last winter?" asked samuel. "it froze very hard for more than a week after you left," replied thomas; "but john and i broke its head a great deal, with snow balls, and afterwards a warm rain fell, and washed it away." "is it warm in the city now?" asked john. "yes," answered his cousin. "in the middle of the day the pavements seem to be about on fire, and people are afraid to walk far, lest they may be sunstruck. yesterday two men died with the heat. there seems to be no air stirring from morning till night. besides, there is much sickness in town, and many persons have left their houses, and gone into the country. "father," said thomas, "how miserable we should be if we had no water to drink this weather, like those poor arabs that you told us of the other day." "yes," answered mr. harvey, "the sun must be burning hot in arabia now." "how can they live in such a place?" asked john. "they are not all so miserable as the party i told you of the other day," replied his father. "besides, you know it is their country, and god has taught them to love it. if an arab were brought here, he would, probably, think it a most dreary land, except in summer." "but what do you do in town, samuel," asked john, "when it is too warm to go out?" "it is very hot only in the middle of the day," replied his cousin, "and then, you know, we are at school. in the afternoons, i sometimes rode out with father, or went on the steamboat. last week a balloon went up, from the other side of the river. we had a fine view of it from the roof of our house. two men were in it, and when they had risen so high that the balloon appeared quite small, they threw out a little machine, called a parachute. it looked something like an umbrella, and had a dog to it. the balloon sailed a great distance through the air, and came down safely." it was now six o'clock, and mr. harvey told the boys that they might go to supper, which he had ordered to be ready earlier than usual. [illustration] chapter ii. the evening walk. after supper, samuel and his cousins took a walk in the meadow, toward the mill pond. the air was now cool and pleasant, and as the boys moved through the narrow path, among the low grass, thousands of grasshoppers, and other insects, filled the air with their cheerful hum. thomas, with his companions, passed round the mill, and then climbed a fence which led through a field of corn. the corn was not very high, so that they had to be careful not to tread upon it. when they reached the other side, samuel saw that the fence was covered with raspberry vines, from one end to the other. he asked what they did with so many. "all that father wishes to use, or to eat," replied thomas, "he gathers out of the garden; but these he leaves for two or three poor families, who live not far off, and who take them to town to sell. it helps them to pay their rent." "and does he give away blackberries, too?" asked samuel. "yes, and many other kinds of fruit," replied his cousin. "he has such large fields and orchards, that he can afford to give away great quantities of apples, peaches, currants, grain, and vegetables." [illustration: the old soldier's house.] the boys roamed about the fields, talking in this manner, until after sunset, when thomas said it was time to return. they crossed into a bye path, and walked toward the house through a field in which wheat had been growing. among the short straw, left by the reapers, samuel saw many birds' nests, and deep holes that had been dug by rabbits, field mice, and other small animals. in a short time they passed a very old house, whose sides appeared as if they would fall every moment. the roof was covered with moss and grass, and the boards had crumbled and separated from each other; a number of bats and swallows were flying about it, and thomas said that dozens of these little animals, beside rats and mice, lived inside. samuel asked him if any body lived there. "no," said his cousin; "but father remembers very well when an old soldier, that the farmers called jack, did live in this house. his leg had been shot off in battles with the indians. after it healed he moved to this place, and lived on the vegetables he could raise in a little garden, besides what people gave him. every night he came out and sat on the log by the door, playing on an old fiddle. then the school children would collect around him, and give him pennies, or fruit, and such things. sometimes he told them stories; for he had travelled in many lands, and knew a great deal about them. in the summer nights, father says, he often heard poor old jack singing the songs that he had learned when he was a boy; and sometimes he could be seen hobbling down this lane, on his crutches, or sitting by the water catching some fish for his supper. one day he was missed, and folks thought he was sick; but they waited till the next morning, and then a great crowd collected round the house, and called him. no one answered; so some one lifted the latch and went in. old jack was not there, and the people began to get frightened. they hunted for him all that day, and many days afterward; but he was never found. some think that he was drowned; others that he went away with strangers, and a few are foolish enough to believe, that he is still living, and will one day come back. since that time, no one has ever lived in his house, and in a few years it will tumble down with old age." while thomas had been giving this account of poor jack, the soldier, john was very busy moving round the old house, and peeping through the cracks in the boards. at last he motioned thomas and samuel, to come to him, and then whispered: "stoop down--don't make a bit of noise--and peep through this crack. you'll see the biggest owl that ever you did see, in all your life." both of them looked through. it was very dark, but samuel saw two great eyes, like balls of fire, and in a little while he could perceive the body of an owl, which, as john had said, was the largest he had ever seen. "let us go in and catch him," said john. but thomas answered, that as it was now dark the owl could easily fly away; and besides, as they did not wish to kill it, it could be of no use to them, if they should catch it. "it might do for cousin to look at," replied john; but he did not insist upon entering the house. as they were going away, samuel asked his cousin if he did not think owls were ugly. "no, indeed," answered john. "i would rather see an owl any time than these little birds that can do nothing but sing. see how soft his feathers are--all barred and spotted with black and brown, which is more handsome than to be all over red or yellow. i know he can't sing; but he's got nice, long ears, and that no other bird has. and how nice and round his head is. then he sits on a tree, and looks wise, as father says. the canary, and the mocking bird, are good enough to keep in cages, but of all birds, give me an owl." thomas and samuel laughed at this notion, but john continued: "thomas, did not some people, who lived a long while ago, call the owl the 'bird of wisdom?'" "yes," replied thomas. "i have heard father say that it was the athenians." "that shows how wise they were," said john. "i seems to me as though that owl, which we saw, was keeping house for poor old soldier jack." "do hush about owls," said his brother, laughing; and they ran together through the gate, and into the yard. [illustration] chapter iii. a visit to daddy hall. next morning, mr. harvey told his sons that they might go to see an old man, who lived in a small house, about two miles off, and who was so sickly that he could not work. this old man's name was hall, and the boys of the school called him daddy hall. he had once been rich; but sickness and misfortune had reduced him to poverty, so that he now lived with his little son, in a small hut, near a hill. every week he sent fruit and vegetables to market, in a cart, drawn by a donkey, which some of the neighbors had given to him. every week mr. harvey sent either a servant, or one of the boys, to see how he was getting along, and to carry him something nice. the two boys, with their cousin, were soon off, carrying with them a basket full of things for the old man. they went by the road across the meadows, and through a small gate in the hedge. samuel observed, that the hawthorn of the hedge grew very thick and close, so that a bird could scarcely get through it. the roots and branches were twisted into each other, appearing like strong, thick chains woven together; and on the vines grew sharp thorns, longer than a needle. mr. harvey's boys told their cousin, that neither man nor beast could get through such a hedge; and that if a man were placed on the top, he could walk on the vines without sinking down, they were so strong and close. "it would be uneasy travelling, though," added john; "for his feet would be torn to pieces by these spiky thorns." they now left the hedge, and went on through two wide fields, until they reached some hills that stood by themselves, and were steep and bare. three of them had deep pits dug in them, while piles of rock, stones, and sand, were lying around. samuel asked his cousins what place it was. "it is an iron mine," said thomas; but it is not worked any more, because there is not enough of iron found to pay for the trouble. all these stones lying about here are pieces of ore; but the quantity of iron in them is so small that it will not pay for the expense of taking it out from the ore." "how is iron taken from the ore?" asked samuel. thomas replied: "the ore is first crushed into coarse dust, and then washed. afterwards this dust is melted in a hot furnace, and the iron is separated from the melted stone, or dross, in a manner which is very troublesome, and which father can explain to you better than i can. sometimes the ore is almost all iron; john and i have some pieces in our cabinets, in which you cannot see any stone." "but did men go down this deep well?" asked samuel. "yes; they were lowered down in buckets. and the water was pumped out by a machine. the water was so cold, even in the middle of summer, that one could scarcely hold his hand in it." the boys began to throw stones down one of the wells, so that they might guess by hearing them strike the bottom, how deep it was. the first stones were too small to be heard; then they threw larger ones, and listened, but could hear no sound. at last, john took up a piece of rock as big as his head, and rolled it into the well. it fell with a hollow, rumbling noise, and all was then still. the boys thought it had reached the bottom; but all at once they heard it splash into water. then the boys knew that the well was very deep, for the stone had been falling several seconds. they then hunted among the piles of ore for some handsome pieces to give to samuel; after which, they picked up their basket, and hurried on toward daddy hall's. on reaching his house, they found the old man sitting at the door, while his son, a good boy, was preparing to take the donkey to market, with a cart load of turnips, radishes, peas, beans, and cabbage. daddy hall was pale and thin; but he arose to meet the boys, and seemed very glad to see samuel. although he was sick almost every day, and sometimes suffered great pain, yet no one ever heard him complain. he loved children, and was very fond of talking to them; and before he grew so weak and feeble, many of the farmers sent their little ones to him, to learn to read. after they had been seated a little while, john asked him if he did not get tired of staying in the house. "sometimes," said the old man, "i wish i could go out, as i once could, and work for myself; but i do not feel tired. besides, this is the best condition i can be placed in; and if you ask me why, i will tell you. god, my children, has placed me in it; and he knows what is best for each of us. he has given me many comforts, kind friends, plenty to eat and drink, and a son, who is one of the best of boys. there is nothing, john, more cheering to the heart of an old man than the kindness of a dutiful son; and let me ask each of you, to listen to the advice of one who owns such a blessing, and always to show honor and respect to your parents." [illustration] chapter iv. the walk through the woods. the boys left their basket with daddy hall, and set out on their return to the house. "let us go through the woods," said thomas, and they all walked toward a thick wood which stood not far from the hill, near which daddy hall's house was built. they were glad to reach its cool shade; for the sun was now getting warm. samuel saw a number of birds among the branches, that he did not know the names of; and many bright little flowers were growing in the shade, among the roots of oak and beech trees. a little distance in the wood, they reach a small rock, near which some large stones were lying, as if they had been thrown together. thomas stopped, and said, "samuel, this is the place where we killed a big snake last spring. you can see his hole under this rock. john and i tried hard to move these loose stones, but we could not. i dare say there are snake nests underneath." "perhaps we three can move one of them," replied his cousin. they all caught hold, and at last pulled the stone from its place. there was nothing underneath, but some old nut shells; but john said he was sure they would find snakes if they could but move the other stones. after much pulling, they raised another one; and under it was a large land tortoise, with several little ones, no larger than a walnut. after examining these, they observed a hole running under another stone, into the ground. samuel also found two or three snake skins, which his cousins told him the snakes threw off every spring, after which, a new and larger skin grew on them. they pulled hard at this third stone, but could not move it; but while they were going away, thomas said that they could bring an iron bar some day, and easily root it up. in the middle of the wood was a fine spring of water, which gushed from a rock, and then spread out into a little pool, so clear and quiet, that the smallest stones could be seen at the bottom. samuel tasted the water, and found it cold and refreshing. he asked his cousin how so much water could come out of the rock. "it does not come from the rock," replied thomas; "but only runs through it. father says, that spring water often comes from the hills and mountains, running under the ground through cracks and holes in the rocks, until it finds some outlet. i suppose this water runs down from the tops of the hills near the iron mine." "but this is not rain water," said his cousin. "it neither tastes nor looks like it." "it has become changed while passing under the ground," replied thomas. "after a heavy shower the water soaks into the earth until it reaches the sand, or rock underneath, then it runs through every little crack down the hill, and under the ground to some place like this where it can escape. the sand and gravel, which it meets with, make it pure and the lime and other substances of the rocks, alter its taste." [illustration] chapter v what uncle harvey said about rain. when the boys reached the house, mr. harvey was in his study. samuel was anxious to ask him some questions about springs, but he would not go up stairs to disturb him. but after dinner his uncle came into the parlor where the boys were, and then samuel asked him where all the water comes from that flows in the rivers and other streams. "from the ocean," answered mr. harvey. "i suppose you have seen water boiling, samuel." "yes, sir." "and have you seen the steam rise up from the water into the air?" samuel said that he had. his uncle continued: "whenever water is heated, it is turned into steam, or vapor, as it is sometimes called. if there is enough of heat to make water boil, the vapor passes off very fast, until the water is gone. now the sun is continually changing the water of rivers, ponds, lakes, and of the ocean, into vapor. this vapor rises. the air about a mile above the earth, is much colder than it is on the earth; so when the hot vapor from the ocean meets the cold air, it again becomes water, and forms clouds. i see you are ready with a question, john." "yes, sir," said john. "i cannot see, father, how the clouds can float in the air if they are nothing but water. why do they not pour down?" his father answered: "i expected this would be your question. the clouds, my son, are water, but not in a close mass, like that in a bucket or in the mill pond. you have seen soap bubbles, and know that a great many of them may be joined together without breaking. it is supposed by learned men, that clouds are nothing but many thousands of bubbles, which, being lighter than air, would, you know, float on it." "but, father," said john, "what makes it rain?" "that is not certainly known," replied mr. harvey; "but, no doubt, lightning has much to do with it. i will show you, this evening, several pictures about clouds and springs of water, which will help you to understand what i have said." "uncle," said samuel, "there is one more question which i would like to ask." "ask it, my boy," replied mr. harvey. "i have read, sir, that the water of the ocean is salt; why, then, is not rain water salt, too?" "because," said mr. harvey, "salt cannot be changed to vapor, and it is too heavy to be raised, in any quantity, in the air with the water. yet, i suppose, that a little salt is always mixed with the bubbles that form clouds." chapter vi. how thomas killed a hawk. this afternoon was very hot, and the boys spent it in their room, arranging their books and pictures, and in reading. at five o'clock, while thomas was standing by the window, he suddenly exclaimed: "there's a hawk!" both the boys ran to the window, and saw a large hawk, sailing slowly toward the barn. "he is the one that steals our chickens," said john. "and see, he's flying straight for the barn. thomas, run and ask father for the gun." mr. harvey kept two guns in his house; but he used them only for shooting hawks, when they were flying about to steal the poultry. john and thomas had learned to use them, and sometimes spent an afternoon in firing at a mark. but they never did so without their father's consent. [illustration: the hawk.] thomas soon joined the other boys, having the gun in his hand; and after mr. harvey had bidden them to be careful, they followed in the direction the hawk was flying. they kept close by the fence, so that it could not see them. in a short time it was over the barn yard, and sailing round and round, in order to make a sweep downwards. "hurry, thomas," said john; and thomas ran stooping along some bushes, followed by john and samuel, on their hands and feet. the hawk was now quite low, and the boys could hear the hens screaming and running about. at last thomas reached the barn fence, and his brother told him to fire. but he could not take aim, because the hawk was partly hidden by the corner of the barn. "i am afraid he'll get that little chicken," said samuel. "see if you can take aim now," whispered john. the hawk now made a sweep at one of the chickens; but it ran under the barn, and the hawk flew up a little higher. just then, thomas fired. the hawk came down head foremost, and thomas threw away his gun, and sprang over the wall. john and samuel jumped after him, shouting as loud as they could. in a few moments the hawk was dead. it was the largest one that either of them had ever seen. when they reached the house, mr. harvey was waiting for them; and on seeing so large a hawk, promised to have it stuffed for them. the gun was then hung up in its place. [illustration] chapter vii. about bats. this evening, while the boys were reading and talking to mr. harvey, several bats flew in at the window. john caught one of them in his hat, and placed it on the table for his cousin to examine. samuel asked his uncle if it would not fly away. "no," said mr. harvey, "it cannot raise itself from the ground. what we call its wings, are, you see, nothing but two thin skins, or membranes, stretched from its hind legs to its fore ones, and fastened to its sides. when flying, it spreads out its toes, so as to unfold these membranes, and thus balances itself in the air." "do not some people think that the bat is a bird?" asked samuel. "yes. but probably they never examined a bat closely. you see that it looks nothing at all like a bird." "father," said john, "where did those great bats come from, which you have in your cabinet?" "from the island of java," said mr. harvey. "they are called java bats. i have seen some with bodies as large as hens, and wings like umbrellas. hundreds of these animals fly about the gardens and orchards of that island, every night, destroying great quantities of fruit. the people there, spread nets over the trees, to protect the fruit, and shoot the bats with guns, as you did the hawk." "i have read, in a book of travels," said samuel, "that while persons are asleep, these bats, or some other large kind, suck their blood. is that true, sir?" "no," said mr. harvey. "such tales were long believed, even by writers on natural history; and i have some where a picture of a monstrous bat sucking the blood from a man's veins. but all this is now known to be fabulous. no kind of bat will attack an animal as large as itself, nor enter a house when there is an abundance of fruit and insects in the field." "shall we let this bat go now?" said john. mr. harvey said yes; and then john lifted it on a large sheet of paper, and threw it into the air. in a moment it spread out its thin wings, and after flying about the room two or three times, passed out of the window. mr. harvey told them, that although the bat was so feeble when on the ground, yet its strength of wing was greater than that of any bird. [illustration] chapter viii. the walk to the creek. the next day there was a heavy thunder shower, in the morning, which compelled the boys to stay in the house; and in the afternoon the teacher of the academy paid mr. harvey a visit. during the time that he staid, thomas, with his brother and cousin, were told to remain in the house. but the next day was cool and pleasant, and they started early on a ramble through the fields. as they passed close to a farm house, samuel saw a large dog chained to a tree, in the yard. it looked very fierce at them as they passed, and then began to growl and bark. thomas told his cousin, that this dog had bitten several persons in the neighborhood, and that some of the school boys had tried to poison it; but that the farmer was careful always to keep it chained, so that no body might get a chance to catch it in the road. about half a mile further onward was a fine stream of water. it began in the hills, and ran winding along, deeper and broader, to a great distance. mr. harvey owned several farms along this creek; and here thomas and john often came, in summer evenings, to swim. the water was clear and pure, so that hundreds of fish could be seen sporting around the shores. when the boys reached this creek, they sat down under a shady tree, to watch the fishes, and listen to the songs of the birds, on the bushes that hung over the water. in a short time, a number of eels came from under a large stone, one after the other, and after swimming about for a little while, buried themselves in the mud. samuel asked thomas where so many came from. "they live in the water," replied his cousin. "on a pleasant evening you can see many more swimming among the stones, and the roots of trees, by the edge of the creek. but, do you know, that they sometimes come out of the water, and glide about the meadows." "no," said samuel; "do they?" "yes," replied thomas. "at night you may sometimes see a great many among the grass. one evening last summer john and i met a whole company of them, going from the little creek, near daddy hall's house, toward the mill pond. we thought, at first, that they were snakes, and so moved out of their road; but by and by, we perceived that they were eels. the weather had been hot and dry for two weeks before, and these eels were travelling to find more water. so father told us afterwards." the boys now walked on, down the creek, until they came to a small bridge. on this a boy, about as large as samuel, was standing, throwing stones into the water. when thomas, and the other two, got near enough, they saw he was stoning frogs. every time one of these little animals put its head above the water, the boy pelted it with a stone; and two or three had been mashed to death, as they sat on the broad stones, near the water's edge. [illustration: stoning frogs.] now, all good boys and girls, who read this book, will say that this was a cruel boy--and so he was. as soon as john saw what he was about, he called to him to stop. the boy said he would not, and stoned harder than before. then john began to grow angry. you remember, children, i told you, that though john was a noble hearted fellow, yet he was quick of temper; and when he saw boys doing wrong, he was apt to get angry very soon, if they did not stop when they were told. so, seeing that the boy still threw stones, he called to him again, louder than before. "what shall i stop for?" said the boy. "because," said john, as he stepped on the bridge, "you have no business to stone frogs. what hurt do they do you?" "a good deal," said the boy; and he threw another stone. "i tell you to stop," replied john; "this is father's field, and they are his frogs, too; and you have no right here, if you can't behave yourself." the boy now threw off his cap, as if to fight, and said: "i don't care for you or your father either; i'll stone as long as i please, and no one shall hinder me," and as he spoke, he shook his fist in john's face. john was now very angry. "if you touch me," he said, "i'll throw you, head foremost, over the bridge. i tell you to quit stoning frogs, and you shall quit." thomas and samuel now came forward; for they were afraid that there would be some fighting. john and the boy stood looking at each other for a little while; but at last, the boy seeing that john was not afraid of him, picked up his hat and walked off, muttering that he did not care for any body. "he had better go," said john. when his brother began to grow calm, thomas told him that he ought not to get so angry, for he could have driven off the boy just as well, by speaking quietly to him. "i have seen him once or twice before," added thomas, "and i hear that he is a very bad boy." [illustration] chapter ix. the hard battle. in coming home by some cherry trees that stood near the fence, samuel saw a little animal, larger than a bat, fly swiftly from one branch to another. he asked his cousins if it was not a flying squirrel. thomas answered, "yes. several nests of them are in these trees. if you could examine one of these squirrels closely, you would see that its wings, as they are called, are not like bird's wings." "they seem more like a bat's wings," said samuel. "so they are," replied his cousin; "only thin skins, stretched along the sides from the fore legs to the hind ones. but these squirrels cannot fly far, nor stay long in the air, as bats can. they merely dart swiftly from one branch to another." "what other kinds of squirrels are there?" asked samuel. "the grey squirrel," said thomas, "much larger than this one. it is not often found about here. then the ground squirrel, that lives in the ground, instead of on the trees. the common squirrel, such as you see running about the fences and woods; and two or three other kinds. some people eat squirrels; but i have never tasted one." the boys now heard some one screaming, and stopped to listen. "it comes from that field," said john; "let us run and see what is the matter." they did so, and soon saw that the big dog they had passed in going to the creek, had got out, and was chasing a boy. this boy was screaming with fear; and john perceived that he was the boy who had been stoning frogs. but the boys ran with all their might to help him, picking up such stones and sticks as lay on the ground, in their way. when they reached the boy, he was pale with fear, for the dog was close to him. samuel also felt a little afraid; but he joined his two cousins in trying to beat the dog back. the fierce animal got john's stick in his mouth, and wrenched it out of his hand; but he kicked it in the jaws, and so kept it off with his feet, while thomas and samuel struck it over the head with all their might. as to the boy, he ran as hard as he could, until he was out of sight. thomas's stick now broke, but samuel ran his down the dog's throat, and john ran to bring a great pole which was lying a little distance off. with this they kept the dog from biting them, until some men came running down a lane, and over into the field. they had seen the dog run out of the farmer's yard, and were anxious to kill it. so they threw a rope round its neck, and dragged it away. they said it should be shot. the boys were very warm, and could scarcely get their breath. they walked, therefore, to a tree which stood in the field, and sat down to get cool, and rest themselves. thomas said he would be glad if the dog were killed, for such an animal was not fit to keep. "if we had each had a good stout club," replied his brother, "he would never have run after any of us again." they looked for the boy, but he could not be seen; and after resting themselves, they walked home. when mr. harvey heard of their battle with the dog, he said that it was a great blessing they had not been bitten; for that in summer the bite of a dog often caused madness, followed by certain death. [illustration] chapter x. about corn and the uses of animals. when samuel had been at his uncle's about two weeks. mr. harvey told him one morning, that he might go with his cousins to a field where early corn was growing and pull some to cook, if it was ripe. they had a merry time among the high corn. as they came back to the house, carrying their basket of ears, samuel asked his cousins, why corn was sometimes called indian corn. "it is because it formed the chief food of the indians, before white men came to this country," replied thomas. "father says its proper name is maize. it was first found in this country; and there are some parts of america where it is used altogether instead of wheat or rye. did you ever taste cakes made from it?" "yes," said samuel; "they were sweeter than wheat bread; but i would not like to eat them every day." "nor i either," said john; "but i like indian meal with sugar, eggs, and milk in it, and then baked brown in the oven. don't you, samuel?" "i never tasted it that way. but i think corn is best boiled on the ear, and eaten with meat and vegetables." mr. harvey's library, as i have already told you, was very large. he spent much time in the room where it was, either reading or writing. in the afternoon, after the boys had gathered the corn, he called them into this room, and showed them some beautiful pictures of animals and countries. while looking at them, samuel asked him if he thought every animal had been made for some useful purpose. "yes, my boy," answered his uncle; "we have reason to believe that even things which appear to be entirely useless, such as gravel stones, or weeds, have been made by god for some good end. the more we learn about animals and plants, the more plainly this appears. i will show you the picture of a very curious animal, called a sloth. it looks a little like a bear. now listen, boys, to a few words about this animal. it lives in thick, gloomy forests, so that it can scarcely ever be taken. when placed on the ground it cannot walk, but drags itself forward, with its fore legs, crying all the time, as if in great pain. its claws are long, and turn up under its feet. in the woods it lives all the time on the trees, hanging from a branch, with its back toward the ground. tell me what you think of such an animal." "i think it must be miserable all day long," replied samuel. "so every one thought, about fifty years ago," said mr. harvey; but men who have gone to the countries where sloths are, and seen them in the high trees, tell a very different story. they say that the sloth's home is in the branches, as much as a fish's is in the water; and he is there a strong and happy animal, although he looks so weak and miserable on the ground. he lives on fruit, and moves from one branch and one tree to another, with considerable swiftness. so you see that the sloth enjoys himself as well as any of us; and i have no doubt that he was created for some good purpose, although we may not be able to understand precisely what it is. "but do not some animals eat each other?" asked thomas. "yes," replied mr. harvey; "but this is of great use to man. what would the farmer do with all the insects that destroy his grain, if many of them were not eaten by little birds; and how much of his fruit would these very birds destroy, if they, too, were not eaten by hawks! if animals did not destroy each other, they would soon become so numerous as to crowd man from the earth." chapter xi. alice gray. one morning, after the three boys had taken a pretty long walk, they came to a small cottage, standing by a garden, round which was a neat hedge. part of this garden was planted with vegetables, and part with flowers, while many vines and sweet brier bushes stood before the cottage door. there were also large, white roses, which samuel thought finer than any he had yet seen; and in a corner of the garden farthest from the house, stood two bee hives. as the boys passed by, a young woman came out on the piazza, and asked them in. john and thomas had often been here; so they opened the gate and passed through with their cousin. the young woman, whose name was alice, brought out chairs, and some new milk in bowls, for each of them to drink. then she walked with them through the garden, showing them through the flowers, and telling their names. he was much pleased with the bee hives; they were made of wood, with glass tops, so that the bees might be seen at work. after watching them for some time, they returned through the garden to the cottage door. at this moment an old lady came to the door, and spoke to mr. harvey's boys. samuel observed that she was very feeble, and that her voice could scarcely be heard. she looked like one who had been often sick. when they left the cottage, he asked who she was. [illustration: alice gray.] "her name is gray," said thomas. "alice is her daughter. mrs. gray's husband was a sailor, and when alice was about three years old, he went on a voyage to catch whales, but was lost, with all the crew. mrs. gray was poor, and had four children; and as no one in the town where she lived would help her, she opened a school for little boys and girls. the money she got by teaching, supported her family, until her two oldest children died. soon after, the poor woman herself became sick, and the school was closed. then she moved into this part of the country, and tried to make her living by weaving mats out of rushes. but in the fall, the child older than alice, died; and mrs. gray again grew sick. her landlord was a hard hearted man: he turned her out of doors, and the poor woman would have died, if some neighbors had not taken her in, and provided for her until she could work for herself. at last she went to live on one of the hills that you can see near the iron mine. she did pretty well that winter; but one day in the spring, a great freshet ruined every thing that she had, and almost carried away her house. afraid to stay on the hill any longer, she was about to go to the city, and ask assistance from the societies which give help to poor people, when some persons, told her to move to the cottage she is in now, and that they would pay the rent. she did so. when alice grew older, she worked hard to support her mother, and she it was who planted all the flowers and vegetables that you saw in the garden. father made her a present of the bee hives. every body loves her because she has so sweet a temper." "and is the old lady still sick?" asked samuel. "yes," said his cousin, "she will never be well again. yet she is happy in having a good daughter and kind friends, and loves to see the young people, who sometimes stop to talk or read to her." at some distance from the cottage the boys met a bull in the road. it was standing still when they first saw it; but in a little while it began to strike the ground with its feet, and toss about its head. samuel was afraid to go on; but his cousins told him to follow them, without attempting to run. as they passed, the bull looked fiercely at them, and began to roar; but they walked on, keeping their eyes steady on it, all the while. it continued to make a great noise, but did not follow them. after they had passed it, thomas said they could then walk as fast as they chose, lest the bull might follow them. samuel asked him, if bulls had not sometimes killed people. "yes," he replied, "bulls are dangerous when any thing makes them angry. and at such times, if you run from them they are sure to follow. they often fight with each other; and farmer smith had a bull killed by another one last spring. if you meet them in the road, it is best to face them, without showing any fear. it is not often that they will attack any one who has courage enough to look straight at them." [illustration] chapter xii. locusts. mr. harvey's boys had a very fine fig tree, which had been presented to them by a friend of their father, and of which they took great care. it was kept in a large box, so that it might be placed in the house during the winter. the boys expected it would bear fruit next year. one day john burst into the room where thomas, samuel, and his father were sitting, and exclaimed with a doleful voice: "oh, father, it is dead--eaten by the locusts--i found a dozen on it." "what's the matter, john?" said mr. harvey. "what have the locusts eaten?" "our fig tree," replied john. "it is gone past all remedy. only come with me, and you'll see it." they followed him down the garden walk. on reaching the fig tree, mr. harvey saw that nearly all its leaves had been eaten off, with most of the bark and young branches. thomas and samuel were very sorry, and john said he would kill every locust he met, from that day forward. mr. harvey examined the tree, and found, that although much damage had been done to it, yet with proper care, it might be restored. "we ought to have covered it with a net," he said to the boys. while his father was talking with thomas and his cousin, john was stooping on the ground, hammering something with a stone. at last mr. harvey turned round, and asked john what he was doing. "i am killing these fine locusts that i have caught," replied john. "stop, my son," said mr. harvey, "that is foolish conduct, and very wicked. you are giving way to anger and revenge, two of the worst passions that a youth can indulge." "but, father, they will eat more trees." "the damage that a few locusts can do, is not much," answered his father; "and if we had taken proper care with the fig tree, they would not have reached it. let those under your hat go, and when we go into the house, i will tell you about the locusts of the eastern countries, of which you might kill as many as you chose, if you were there." john did as his father bade him, and said he was sorry for having acted so foolishly. then mr. harvey trimmed the fig tree with his knife, and said he would send a servant to place a screen over it. when they came to the house, john reminded his father of his promise concerning the locusts. mr. harvey took from a shelf several large pictures of insects, and laying one on the table, asked his son what he thought it was. "it looks like a large grasshopper," said john. "it is the locust of the east," replied his father. "these locusts are shaped almost exactly like the long-winged grasshoppers that fly about our fields; but they are two or three times larger. what do you think this picture is?" "it seems to be a great cloud of dust." "it is a swarm of eastern locusts. hundreds of thousands fly thus together, darkening the air, and driving every thing before them. when alighting they cover the earth for more than a mile round, and eat every green thing to the very roots. the noise of their wings is like thunder. they leave the country like a desert, so that the terrified people look forward to misery and famine. men, women, and children, turn out with guns and stones, to kill them; and sometimes large fires are kindled for the same purpose. the dead ones are taken by cart loads to markets, and sold for food." "to be eaten, sir!" said samuel. "yes," replied mr. harvey, "mixed with butter, and fried in a pan, they form almost all the meat that the poorer classes in those countries get." "its a shocking meal" said john. "not so bad as you suppose," said his father. "perhaps, if it were not the custom in this country to eat lobsters or hogs, we would look upon them with as much disgust as you do upon locusts. what do you think of dining off of spiders?" "horrible," said john. his father continued: "i have read of a man who ate nothing else, when he could get spiders. so you see that people's tastes differ. you know that john baptist's food was locusts and wild honey." "do the people kill all the locusts in a swarm?" asked thomas. "no," said his father, "a swarm is so large that after hundreds of cart loads are taken from it, it seems no smaller. generally, the wind drives them into the sea, where they perish. but their dead bodies, cast upon shore, become corrupt, and produce plagues." "i wish," said john, "that the wind would drive all we have into the sea, or else a good distance from our fig tree. who would think that such little animals could do so much mischief." "is it true that locusts return after every seventeen years?" asked samuel. "yes," said mr. harvey; "but not the common kind, such as ate the fig tree. all locusts come from eggs. in first coming from the egg, they are not winged, but look like grub worms. after a while these grubs cast off their skins, and become locusts. now, there is a kind of locust which is seventeen years in changing from the egg to the full insect it is this kind which is so numerous every seventeen years. if you go into the field when they are coming from the ground, you will see the grass and plants covered with them." "father," said john, "why did the locusts strip all the leaves from the fig tree, without touching any of the flowers or bushes around?" "i suppose," said mr. harvey, "it is because the fig tree is very tender. it comes, you know, from warm countries, and is there the proper food of the locust. had there been figs on the tree, they would, no doubt, have been eaten also." chapter xiii. the return home. a few days after this conversation, a large fox came, in the evening, into mr. harvey's barn yard; but as a dog belonging to one of the farmers was near, he was driven off before he could catch any of the chickens. the boys heard the noise, and ran down. they saw the fox running very fast away, while the dog, which could not follow through the hole under the fence, had gone round the barn, to get into the field. samuel and his cousins chased the fox as far as they could see it, and then returned to the barn yard to hunt for more. but none could be found, and they walked up to the house. [illustration: the fox.] at last the month of august rolled around, and the holidays drew toward a close. i have told you only about a few things that samuel saw in his walks around the country with his cousins; but you perceive that he enjoyed himself very much. he also learned a great deal. i hope, children, that you have also learned something by reading this book. samuel tried to remember all that his uncle and cousins told him, and often thought of it when he was by himself. it would be well if you would do the same. have you a little brother, or sister? see if you can tell it what mr. harvey told samuel about bats, locusts, rivers, the rain, and sloths. you may also tell the story of alice gray, and old jack the soldier. you remember that samuel was to go home at the end of august. thomas and john looked very sorrowful as the time drew near; for they loved their cousin very much, and wished that he could stay with them altogether. on the last evening, mr. harvey took all the boys to a branch of the river about seven miles off, to enjoy a sail in a boat, on the water. it was a beautiful moonlight evening, and they rode to the place in a carriage. samuel thought that the sight of the water, sparkling in the moon-beams, and stretching away so wide and still, with the dark bushes on each side, was the finest thing he had yet seen. when they were in the middle of the stream, and gliding slowly down it, mr. harvey and his sons joined in singing some simple song; and as they had brought plenty of food with them, they staid on the water until midnight. next morning, samuel started for town, at nine o'clock. he had received many beautiful and useful things from his cousins, and as he pressed their hands, and again and again, bade them good bye, he felt how much he would miss their company when he would be in the city. but they promised to write to each other, and as often as they could, send presents from one to another. then the horses trotted rapidly down the road, and mr. harvey, with his boys, returned to the house. [illustration] [illustration: "boy blue and shep play together in the fields."] boy blue and his friends by etta austin blaisdell and mary frances blaisdell authors of "child life," "child life in tale and fable," "child life in many lands," "child life in literature," etc. copyright, 1906, by little, brown, and company ~preface~ this is a book of short stories for the youngest readers,--stories about old friends, which they can easily read themselves. here they will learn why mary's lamb went to school, what the mouse was looking for when he ran up the clock, why one little pig went to market, how one little pig got lost, and the answers to a great many other puzzling questions. the stories are written around some of the mother goose rhymes because the children love to meet old friends in books just as well as we do. the vocabulary is limited to words easily recognized by beginners in reading, and the sentences are made short and direct, so that they will be understood. the stories progress gradually from very easy to more difficult matter, keeping pace with the child's increasing knowledge and ability,--the book being carefully arranged for use as a supplementary reader, or for home reading for the little ones. ~contents~ little boy blue snowball fire-cracker boy blue's dream mary's lamb the lamb at school little bo-peep hickory, dickory, dock mistress mary tommy tucker five little pigs jack and jill jack horner's pie the old woman in the shoe miss muffet humpty dumpty the mother goose book little boy blue, come blow your horn, the sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn. where's the little boy who looks after the sheep? he's under the haycock, fast asleep. [illustration] little boy blue little boy blue was not his real name. oh, no! his real name was richard snow. but his mother always called him "little boy blue." his father called him "boy blue," too. every one called him "little boy blue," and so i will. boy blue's eyes were as blue as the sky on a summer day. when he was a baby he always wore a blue ribbon in his hair. when he was five years old he wore a blue blouse and a blue cap. now he wears a blue suit and a blue tie. for boy blue is seven years old now, and is a big boy, you see. boy blue lives on a large farm in the country. there are horses, and cows, and sheep, and pigs, and ducks, and hens and chickens on the farm. of course, boy blue likes the cows and sheep best. he likes to drive the cows to the pasture in the morning. sometimes, at night, he drives them home again. he likes to watch his father milk the cows and feed them. "when i am a big boy," he says, "i shall milk my own cow every day." sometimes he goes with the boy to watch the sheep. shep, the dog, always goes with them. he watches the sheep all day long. they like to get into the meadow where the grass is green and sweet. but shep drives them out every time. boy blue and shep play together in the fields. they run and jump and chase each other. boy blue hides, and shep finds him. "bow-wow!" shep says. "here you are! now for a frolic." and off they go again. boy blue likes to feed the chickens. he likes to drive the ducks down to the brook and watch them swim about in the water. sometimes he helps his mother take care of little sister. then she calls him her "little helper." "no," he says, "i am your big boy blue." snowball one morning boy blue had tears in his big blue eyes. he could not find his snowball. you will laugh when i tell you who snowball was. she was not hard and cold. she was soft and warm. snowball was a pretty, white hen. she was boy blue's very own, and she would follow him all over the yard. she would eat grain from his hand, and let him smooth her white feathers. but now boy blue could not find her. he had looked in the hen-house and all over the yard. "have you looked in the barn?" asked his mother. "oh, no!" said boy blue, "and i saw her coming out of the barn yesterday." "so did i," said his mother. "i think you will find her in the hay." boy blue climbed up on the hay. there in a corner he found his snowball. when she saw her little friend, she began to scold. "why, snowball, what are you doing here?" said boy blue. "cluck, cluck," said snowball. "do not come too near." [illustration] "i have some eggs in this nice warm nest. "soon i shall have some little chickens for you. "oh, oh!" cried boy blue, "i must tell mamma." "you must feed snowball," said his mother. "give her some corn and a drink of water." boy blue took very good care of his pretty, white snowball. he gave her corn and fresh water every morning. three weeks seemed to him a long time to wait. but snowball did not seem to think so. one morning boy blue went out to feed her, and she would not leave her nest. "cluck, cluck!" said she, "i can hear my little chickens." boy blue kept very still and listened. "peep, peep, peep," he heard. "yes, snowball," he said, "i can hear your chickens, too." all day he was busy helping john build a chicken house. they built the house in the field near the barn. "i know snowball will like this house," said boy blue. the next morning snowball let him see her chickens. "cluck, clack, cluck!" she said. "oh, how pretty they are!" said boy blue. "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. "you have seven dear little snowballs." snowball was proud of her babies, boy blue put them in his hat. they were too little to walk. "come, snowball," he said, "i have a new house for you." "cluck, cluck! this is a good house," she said. snowball and her seven little balls were very happy. boy blue took good care of them, and they grew fast. when the summer was over, he had eight big white snowballs. fire-cracker fourth of july! fourth of july! this is the best day for boys in all the year. boy blue liked the fourth of july. he liked fire-crackers and torpedoes and fire-balloons. he liked everything that made a noise. this was the fourth of july, but poor little boy blue had no fire-crackers. he could not even blow his horn. little sister was sick, and mamma had said he must be very quiet. it did not seem one bit like the fourth of july. he was sitting on the steps, whistling and trying not to care. "boy blue," called his father, "i have something to show you out here." the little boy jumped up and ran to the barn as fast as he could. perhaps he was going to have some fire-works after all! he ran into the barn, and what do you think he saw? there stood a little pony. he had a glossy brown coat and a white star on his forehead. "oh! oh!" cried boy blue. "is this pony for me?" "yes, my boy, it is for your very own." "what a beautiful pony! what is his name, papa?" "i do not know his name." [illustration] "you must name him yourself." "'star' would be a good name,--or i might call him 'brownie.' "oh, i know a good name! i shall call him 'fire-cracker.'" "this is the fourth of july, you know, and i did want some fire-crackers so much!" fire-cracker was a good little pony. he and his master soon became very fond of each other. boy blue learned to ride on his pony's back, and he took long rides with his father. one day he said, "i wish i had a pony cart, then i could take little sister to ride. "fire-cracker is very strong. i am sure he could draw both of us, if we did not go very fast." papa thought that was a good idea. the next day he took boy blue to town to buy a pony cart. they went to two or three stores but they could not find one small enough for fire-cracker to draw. at last boy blue saw one in a window. it was painted blue and had red wheels. it had a seat just big enough for boy blue and little sister. so papa and boy blue went into the store and bought it. the next morning boy blue took little sister for a ride. fire-cracker was very careful. he walked slowly and looked around very often to see the two children. perhaps he was thinking, "how fine we all look this morning! "that is a very pretty carriage, and i like this harness, too. "my coat shines in the sun and boy blue put a red ribbon in my mane. "how proud he looks, holding the reins! "i think he likes to take little sister for a ride. "i like to see them both so happy. "good-bye, i am going to trot fast now." boy blue's dream it was a very hot day. boy blue had played all the morning and he was tired. little sister had been making mud pies and she was tired, too. mamma was too busy to read to them. "come, little sister," said boy blue, "it is too hot to play. i will read my story-book to you." "where shall we go?" asked the little girl. "let us sit under the maple tree," said her brother. "it looks cool there." little sister had her baby doll. she rocked back and forth as boy blue read to her. soon little sister and her doll were fast asleep. all at once boy blue heard a voice. he listened. it seemed to be saying:- "little boy blue, come blow your horn, the sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn." [illustration] "oh," thought the little boy, "i must hurry!" he looked for his horn. there it lay in the grass. but he was so sleepy,--he couldn't run after the sheep. in a moment he fell asleep. then he heard the voice again:- "little boy blue, come blow your horn, the sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn." yes, he could see the cow eating the corn in the field. and there was the sheep in the meadow, eating the fresh green grass. he must call them away. so he took up the horn and put it to his mouth. then he blew one loud call. "oh!" he said, as he opened his eyes, "what a loud noise that was!" then he laughed and rubbed his eyes. "i guess i was dreaming," he said. "i guess i was dreaming, too," said little sister, opening her blue eyes. then she waked up her doll, and boy blue went on reading from his story-book. mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow, and everywhere that mary went the lamb was sure to go. he followed her to school one day, which was against the rule. it made the children laugh and play to see a lamb at school. and so the teacher put him out, but still he lingered near, and waited patiently about till mary did appear. mary's lamb of course you know all about mary and her little lamb. the little girl in this story was named mary, and she had a little lamb, too. mary was boy blue's cousin. she lived in the city, and her father owned a big toy-store. mary liked to go to the store with him. she liked to see all the dolls and toys and books. sometimes she played store with her own toys. but i must tell you about her lamb. one summer mary went to the country to visit boy blue. of course there were cows, and pigs, and sheep, and lambs on the farm, mary liked the lambs best, and one of them was a great pet. she called him fleecy, and pulled sweet clover for him to eat. fleecy followed mary all over the farm. sometimes he even ran down the road after her. when mary was going home her uncle said to her, "you may take fleecy with you, if you wish." so the next day fleecy had a long ride in the train. [illustration] i don't think he liked it very well, but he didn't say a word. when mary took him out of the box he was glad to run about in the yard. he soon became used to his new home. he liked to play with the children. they often played hide and seek. when they hid behind the trees he could always find them. the lamb at school one morning fleecy could not find mary. he looked everywhere for her. she was not in the yard, and she was not in the barn. he went to the gate, and looked down the street, but he could not see her. then he went to the back door, and called, "baa-a, baa-a!" but she did not come. where could she be? after a long time she came running into the yard. fleecy trotted up to her. "baa-a, baa-a!" he said; which meant, i think, "where have you been, mary?" "i have been to school," said mary. you see she knew what he meant. "to school," thought fleecy. "i wonder what that is." everyday mary went away and left him. did i say every day? once in a while she stayed at home. then mary and the lamb played together in the yard. "now," thought fleecy, "she is going to stay at home with me." but no, on monday mary went away again. at last fleecy could bear it no longer. "i must go to school, too," he said. "i must see what mary does all day. "if she goes to school to play games, i can play with her." the next day fleecy watched mary go through the gate. then he followed her very quietly. mary ran along with the other little girls and boys. they were playing tag and they did not see fleecy. soon he heard a bell ring. then how the children ran! they all ran into a little house and shut the door. "oh!" thought fleecy, "what shall i do? i can never open that door." just then he saw a little boy running very fast. the boy ran up to the same little house. he opened the door and went in, but he did not shut it. fleecy climbed up the steps. he put his head in at the door and looked around. he could see no one, so he walked in. there was another door, and that was open, too. fleecy stood still and listened. the children were singing as if they were very happy. then he put his head against the door and pushed it wide open. what a room-full of children he saw! and they were all sitting very still, and not playing at all. "i don't think i shall like school," thought fleecy. just then the children saw him. how they did laugh to see a lamb at school! the moment fleecy saw mary he ran up to her. [illustration] the children laughed and laughed. the teacher laughed, too. of course the lamb could not stay in school all the morning. the children could not work because they liked to watch him. so mary put him out and shut the door. but fleecy nibbled some sweet clover and waited for mary. when the children came out he trotted home with them. after that day fleecy often went to school with the children. but he never went in again. i think he liked clover better than books. little bo-peep has lost her sheep, and can't tell where to find them; leave them alone, and they'll come home, and bring their tails behind them. little bo-peep fell fast asleep, and dreamed she heard them bleating; but when she awoke she found it a joke, for they were still a-fleeting. then up she took her little crook, determined for to find them; she found them, indeed, but it made her heart bleed, for they'd left their tails behind them. little bo-peep alice is seven years old to-day. she is going to have a birthday party. alice's aunt wrote the invitations, and alice gave them to all her little school friends. the invitation said:-"little bo-peep is to have a birthday party. she would like to have you come and help her take care of her sheep. please come friday afternoon after school." of course the children asked alice about her party. "are you little bo-peep?" they said. "have you lost your sheep? "are we going to help you find them?" "no," said alice, "but my sheep have lost their tails, i think. "you'll know all about it on friday." at last it was friday afternoon. the children came to school all dressed for the party. it was very hard to wait. how slowly the clock ticked! two o'clock! three o'clock! four o'clock, at last! the children ran almost all the way to alice's house. when they were all ready alice put on a tall cap. then she took a long crook and stood in the middle of the floor. as she called the names of the children they stood in a line behind her. then they began to march and sing: "little bo-peep has lost her sheep, and can't tell where to find them; let them alone, and they'll come home, and bring their tails behind them." the children marched around the room, and through the hall into the dining-room. there they saw a big green curtain, and there they found the sheep. "she found them, indeed, but it made her heart bleed, for they'd left their tails behind them." sure enough! there was a sheep on the curtain, but it had no tail. there were some tails in a box on the table. bo-peep's mother gave one of them to each of the children. "now," said bo-peep, "i will try first to pin a tail on the sheep." so her mother tied a handkerchief over her eyes, turned her around three times, and said, "go." bo-peep started off bravely, and pinned the tail to her mother's apron! how the children laughed! and bo-peep laughed too, when she saw what she had done. boy blue was sure he could pin a tail on the sheep. but he pinned it right on the corner of the table cloth. then it was mary's turn. she shut her eyes tight and walked very straight. she was going to pin the tail in just the right place. all the children stood still and watched her cross the room. she pinned on the tail, and how they all shouted! she had put it into the sheep's mouth. but she did better than any one else. so bo-peep's mother gave her a little woolly lamb to take home to her baby brother. all the children had a good time at the party. they played games and ate ice-cream and cake and candy. then they sang songs, and alice's mother told them some stories. last of all they sang "little bo-peep" again. and to this day they call alice "little bo-peep." [illustration: "all the children had a good time at the party."] hickory, dickory, dock! the mouse ran up the clock. the clock struck one and down he run. hickory, dickory, dock! hickory, dickory, dock it was very quiet all over the house. little boy blue was fast asleep, dreaming of santa claus. boy blue's father and mother were asleep, too, but i don't know what they were dreaming about. "not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse." hark! was that a mouse? yes, i think it was. some one was awake after all. mr. and mrs. mouse lived in a hole in the pantry wall. they were talking quite loud now. "yes, we must move right away," mrs. mouse was saying. "this nest is not large enough for six." "that is true," said mr. mouse. "i can't get my tail in now, and when the babies grow, it will be still worse." "but where shall we go?" said mrs. mouse. "i will go house-hunting this very night, my dear." "be sure you find a large house, where the cat can't find us." "yes, indeed!" said mr. mouse. then he whisked through a little hole and went away. "be careful, dear," called mrs. mouse, and she peeped through the hole and watched him out of sight. mr. mouse ran across the kitchen floor into the dining-room. it was very still! then he ran into the hall. "this is too far from the kitchen," he thought. "i am afraid the babies would have to go to bed hungry in here." then he went back into the dining-room. "this would be a good place for us," he thought. he looked all around the room. where could he find a home? it must be high up out of the reach of pussy cat, and big enough for mrs. mouse and her four babies. what was that in the corner? it was like a box, only very, very tall. mr. mouse certainly did not know what it was, but i will tell you. it was boy blue's grandfather's clock. it had stood in that corner a long, long time, but mr. mouse had never seen it before. "i think i could make a good nest on top of that box," he thought. "pussy cat could not get up there, i know." so mr. mouse began to run up the clock. he heard it ticking very loudly. "tick-tock! tick-tock!" it was saying. "i wonder what that noise is," he said to himself. "i hope it doesn't make that noise in the day-time. "it might keep the babies awake." he climbed a little higher, looking this way and that. "i think mrs. mouse will like this," he thought. just then the clock struck one. how mr. mouse trembled! he nearly fell off the clock, he was so frightened. he took one jump down to the floor, and then he ran. oh, how he ran! across the dining-room, across the kitchen, across the pantry, and into his hole he ran! "oh, my dear, my dear! what is the matter?" cried his wife. "did you see the dog? was the cat chasing you?" "no, no!" panted mr. mouse. "i was hunting for a house, and i climbed up on a tall box. "just as i had found the very place for us, there was an awful noise inside the box." "that was a clock, my dear," said his wife. "it tells boy blue's mother when to have dinner, and when to put the baby to bed. "i have heard her telling boy blue about it." "i think it was telling me it was time to go home," said mr. mouse, and they both laughed softly so as not to wake up the babies. the next night mr. mouse went house hunting in the barn. there he found a very good home in a box of grain. mistress mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? with silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row. mistress mary once upon a time there was a little girl named mary. she had no brothers and sisters, but she had a dear, good father and mother. mary always went to school with her little friends. she played with them after school and on saturdays. one saturday in winter all the children went coasting down the long hill near the school-house. mary took her new red sled and went with them. oh, it was such fun to coast down that long hill! the children ran and laughed and shouted all the way. they had not been coasting long when mary fell off her sled right into a snow bank. that was fun, too, and mary didn't care one bit. but when she tried to stand up, it hurt her so it made tears come into her brown eyes. "are you hurt very much?" asked little boy blue. "my foot hurts," said mary, trying not to cry. "we'll give you a ride home," said jack horner. so mary sat on her sled, and boy blue and jack horner played they were her horses. they trotted so fast that mary was soon at home and in her mother's arms. when the doctor saw mary's foot he shook his head. "this little girl has sprained her foot," he said. "she will have to stay in the house for some time." i am afraid mary cried when the doctor said this. she did not like to stay at home. she wanted to go to school with all her playmates. she wanted to go coasting and skating and play in the snow. in a few days mary could sit by the window and watch the children. then she was not so lonely. jack brought home her school books and she studied very hard. "i want to keep up with my class, mamma," she said. so every day mary and her mother played school together. every week miss brown came in to see how the little girl was getting along. of course the children went to see mary very often. they told her everything they had been doing in school. one day jack said, "i think it would be good fun to give mary a surprise party." "oh yes," said alice, "and we can all take something to make her happy." "we can have the party next saturday afternoon," said jack. "i asked mary's mother, and she said we could come at two o'clock." at recess the children told miss brown about the surprise party. "why don't you take some plants to mary?" she said. "then she could have a garden to watch while she has to stay in the house." "oh, that's just the thing for mistress mary," said jack. and all the children began to sing:- "mistress mary quite contrary how does your garden grow? with silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row." saturday afternoon mary was playing with her dolls when the bell rang. "alice has come to play with me," she thought. just then the door opened and there stood twelve little boys and girls. [illustration] each one was carrying a plant with a pretty, bright blossom. they marched in singing "mistress mary," and little mistress mary laughed, and cried, and clapped her hands, all in one minute. then the children put the plants on a table near the window where mary could see them. there were geraniums, and pinks; a sweet heliotrope, and a rose-bush with a pink rose. alice brought the heliotrope, and jack brought the rose-bush. how bright and cheerful the plants made the room look! the children stayed an hour and played games with mary. they played "hide the thimble" and one or two guessing games, because mary could not run around the room with them. then they had some little cakes and cookies which mary's mother had made for them. when it was time to go home they left a very happy little girl. "good-bye," said mary, "i hope you will come very often. "thank you for the lovely plants. my table looks like a flower garden." "yes, mistress mary," said jack, "we'll come to see how your garden grows. you ought to have some silver bells and some cockle shells." in a few weeks mistress mary, as every one called her now, came back to school. she could run and play as well as any of the children. but she did not forget her garden, and she often brought some of her flowers to school. when the spring came she made a garden out of doors for her plants. and what do you think she put all around the flower bed? she put a splendid row of little white shells. little tommy tucker, sings for his supper. what shall he eat? white bread and butter. how can he cut it without any knife? how can he marry without any wife? tommy tucker one summer mary went to make grandma hall a visit. grandma's little girls were all grown up now, and grandma and grandpa lived alone on the farm. mary liked to go there to visit because grandma could tell such splendid stories, and there were always so many things to do. it was saturday and mary had been busy all the morning helping grandma make cookies, and pies, and cakes. after dinner grandma and little mary took their sewing and sat out under the old apple-tree in the garden. grandma was making a cap, and mary was making a white apron for her mother. they had been sitting there only a little while when mary saw a ragged boy coming down the road towards the house. running along close behind him was a ragged little dog. the boy had a violin in his hand. when he saw the little girl and her grandmother he stood still and began to play. as he played, the little dog stood up on his hind legs and tried to sing. "bow--wow, wow!" he barked, and oh he did look so funny! "please ask the boy to bring that funny dog over here, grandma," said mary. "come here, little boy," said grandma. "what is your name?" "my name is tommy," said the boy, "and this is my dog rags." "run and get tommy and the dog some cookies, mary," said grandma, "i guess they are both hungry." tommy looked so tired that mrs. hall asked him to sit down and rest. "where do you live?" she asked. "i don't live anywhere," replied tommy, "i just have my dog rags, and he and i sleep wherever we can." "well," said grandma, "you must both stay here to-night. we can find a place for a boy and a dog somewhere in this big house." i can't tell you how happy tommy was. rags seemed happy, too. he did all the tricks he knew, and for every trick he got a big, sweet cookie. after supper tommy wanted to help, so he went out to the barn with grandpa hall. rags trotted along behind him, wagging his tail and barking at everything he saw. "what can you do, tommy?" asked grandpa. "i can play my violin and sing," said tommy. "that is all i know how to do." "little tommy tucker, sings for his supper. "i think we shall have to call you 'tommy tucker'," said grandpa. but tommy could do many things besides sing and play. he helped grandpa hall feed the hens and chickens. he gave them fresh water and found all the eggs. then he brought in some wood for grandma's fire. there are a great many things for a boy to do on a farm. that night, after the children had gone to bed, grandpa said, "i wish tommy could live here with us all the time. "i would like a good boy to help me." "that is a good idea," said grandma. "it is lonely now that all our children are gone. "and tommy is just the kind of a boy i like." so the next morning grandma asked tommy if he would like to live with them. [illustration] "could rags stay here, too?" asked tommy. "of course he could," said grandma. "you could help grandpa in the summer, and in the winter you could go to school." what do you think tommy did? he couldn't say a word. he threw his arms around grandma's neck and kissed her. "bow-wow," said rags, jumping up beside them and barking as hard as he could. "bow-wow, this is a good home, tommy." and tommy thought so too. this little pig went to market, this little pig stayed at home, this little pig had bread and butter, this little pig had none, this little pig cried, "wee, wee, wee! i can't find my way home!" five little pigs tommy tucker and mary had been busy all day helping grandpa hall pick apples. now the supper dishes were done and the lamp was lighted. "tell us a story, grandma," they begged. "what shall i tell you?" said grandma. "shall i tell you about 'the three bears,' or 'tom thumb,' or 'red riding hood'?" "tell us a new story, please," said mary. "well, i will tell you the story of the 'five little pigs'." "what five little pigs?" the children asked at the same moment. "you know," said grandma. "this little pig went to market, this little pig stayed at home, this little pig had bread and butter, this little pig had none, this little pig cried, 'wee, wee, wee! 'i can't find my way home!'" "is there a story about those little pigs?" asked mary. "i know i should like that." so grandma hall told the children this story: once upon a time there was a mother pig and she had five little pigs. they were the very prettiest little pigs you ever saw. they were every one white, with pretty pink noses and very curly tails. perhaps the mother pig tied each little tail up at night to make it curl more tightly. curly and whitey, pearly and twisty, and baby, were the names of the five little pigs. one day the mother pig said to curly: "you must go to market to-day, my son. i want a nice big cabbage for my soup." so this little pig went to market. the market was not very far away,--just down the road and across the field to grandpa hall's cabbage patch. "be sure and get a good large one," said the mother pig, as curly trotted away. "oh, mother," said whitey, "may i go to market with curly?" "no, whitey," said his mother, "i want you to stay at home and take care of baby. "i shall be very busy all the morning. "you may take baby out into the yard and play with her." so this little pig stayed at home. whitey took baby and went out into the yard. pearly and twisty were out there, but they were not playing. i am sorry to have to say that they were quarrelling, for one little pig had some bread and butter and the other little pig had none. after a while the two little pigs stopped quarrelling, and then they all began to play together. first they played tag, then they played hide and seek. "oh, there is curly!" said whitey. "see what a big cabbage he has!" sure enough, curly was coming down the road with a cabbage as big as his own head. mother pig took the cabbage and put it into her soup. oh, how good the dinner did smell to the hungry little pigs! "come to dinner, children," called their mother at last; and then what a scampering there was! one, two, three, four little pigs. they almost fell over each other, they were in such a hurry. "where is baby?" cried mother pig. then all the pigs were so frightened that their noses turned white. where was she, indeed? they had forgotten to watch her while they were playing hide and seek. where could she be? they all ran out of the house faster than they ran in. "perhaps she ran after me and got lost," thought curly, and he ran down the big road. pearly thought she would go to the woods behind the barn. twisty ran across the big meadow. mother pig walked slowly up the road, looking behind all the trees and under all the bushes. "baby, baby, baby!" you could hear them all calling. as twisty ran along beside the brook, she thought she heard a noise. "baby, baby!" she called. "wee, wee, wee!" cried baby pig, "i can't find my way home." when twisty heard this she ran so fast she nearly fell into the brook. there sat baby pig on a stone, wiping the tears out of her eyes with an oak leaf. "oh, baby!" said twisty, giving her sister a good hug, "what made you run away?" "i didn't run away, i got lost," said baby, "and i want to see my mother." so twisty and baby ran home as fast as they could. there were all the little pigs looking very sad because they had not found baby. when they saw her coming they ran to meet her, and curly carried her into the house "pig-a-back." then they ate their cabbage soup, an it tasted all the better for waiting. jack and jill went up the hill, to get a pail of water. jack fell down and broke his crown, and jill came tumbling after. jack and jill tommy tucker and mary had many good times together that summer. they fished in the brook at the end of the meadow. they went berrying and took their dinner with them. they rode to market in the big wagon with grandpa hall. in fact, they did everything that boys and girls who live on a farm like to do. but they did not always play alone. in the very next house lived another little boy and girl. this little boy and girl were twins, and they looked as much alike as two green peas. mary called them jack and jill, but i don't know what their mother called them. jack and jill lived in a little house at the top of the hill. in the winter, when the snow was on the ground, it was fine coasting down that long hill. the twins had new red sleds that santa claus had left them on christmas morning. jack's sled was named "racer," and jill called hers "lady bird." their father had to paint the names on the sleds, for the sleds were twins, too. after school and on saturday you could often find jack and jill, with "racer" and "lady bird," coasting down the hill together. but this story is not about coasting in the winter. it is about a slide jack and jill took one day in summer. mary and tommy tucker went to jack's house one morning to play with the twins. jill saw them coming and ran out to meet them. "come down to the sand-bank," she cried. "we've got something new down there. papa gave it to us." so they all took hold of hands and ran down the hill. "be careful, jack," said tommy. "don't fall down and break your crown." when they reached the sand-bank, what do you think they found? there was an old stove with a great big oven. some of the covers were gone, and there was no funnel. but the oven was all right, and that was what mary needed. "let's make our oven full of cakes and pies," said mary. "i'll build the fire," said jack. "and i'll help you get the wood," said tommy. how the boys worked to get some dry leaves and sticks! of course they could not light the fire but it was almost as much fun. the little girls went to work at once getting out their table and dishes. the table was a long board, and their dishes came from everywhere. the pie plates were pretty, round shells that mary had brought from the seashore. grandma hall had given them some small tins to make cakes in. then there was a cracked bowl and a teapot without a handle. plenty of dishes, you see, for a morning's baking. "what shall we bake this morning?" said mary. "oh, let's make some plum cake and blueberry cake. "then we can make some blueberry pies and some apple pies." "oh yes!" said mary, "and i'll make some apple turnovers." by this time the boys had the fire laid and the wood-box filled with wood. "what can we do now?" said tommy. "you can get us some blueberries for our cakes and pies," said jill. so the boys took the cracked bowl and filled it with little round seeds they called blueberries. "i know where i can get some apples," said mary, and away she ran across the field. she was back again in a few minutes with her apron full of little green apples. "you know, jill," she said, "green apples make very good pies." just then the boys came back with the berries and the baking was begun. after a dozen pies had been put into the oven, jill said, "oh, jack! we must have some more water. "will you run up to the house and get some?" "yes," said jack, "if someone will go with me." tommy had gone for more apples and mary was mixing her cake. "i will go with you," said jill. "here is our pail." so jack and jill went up the hill to get a pail of water. their mother let them fill their pail. then she gave them four cookies that she had just taken from the oven. when they started down the hill, jack began to run. [illustration] "oh, do be careful, jack!" said jill, "or you will--" but she didn't say any more. for down went jack, down went jill, and down went the pail. tommy and mary saw them fall and ran to help them. "oh, jack!" said mary, "did you break your crown?" "no," laughed jack, "but jill came tumbling after." "we ought to have known better than to let jack and jill go for a pail of water," said tommy. "i've broken the cookies," said jill. "let's go and ask mamma for some more." so they all went up the hill for more water and cookies. this time mary and tommy carried the water down the hill. the pies were baked, and the cakes ready to put into the oven in a very few minutes. when jill's mother called the children to dinner, there was a long row of cakes and pies and, cookies. "we ought to eat our dinner here," said mary. "i like mother's pies and cookies best," said jack. so jack and jill ran up the hill once more, and mary and tommy climbed over the fence and ran across the garden to see what grandma hall had for their dinner. little jack homer sat in a corner, eating his christmas pie; he put in his thumb and pulled out a plum, and said, "what a big boy am i!" jack horner's pie i am going to tell you about another one of boy blue's friends. his name was jack horner. at least, boy blue called him jack horner. and i'll tell you why he called him jack horner, too. his real name was jack horne. jack was a very jolly boy. he had round red cheeks and twinkling eyes, and he was always running and jumping about and laughing at everything. one morning when he waked up he was happier than ever. in fact, he was the happiest boy in town. i know he was, for he said so, and he ought to know. his birthday was coming. indeed, it was the very next day. and the very next day was christmas, too. think of having a birthday and christmas on the same day! how would you like that? jack was going to have a birthday party. or was it a christmas party? jack couldn't tell which it was. all the children were coming,--boy blue, and mary, and alice, and tommy tucker, and ever so many more. there was a secret about the party. jack's mother had told him, but he would not tell. boy blue tried to guess. "is it a christmas tree, jack?" "are we going to make candy?" "is santa claus coming?" "are we going on a sleigh-ride?" "no, no, no!" said jack. "you will never guess." at last christmas day came. jack could hardly stop to look at all of his presents. he was thinking of the party and of getting the secret ready. at two o'clock the children came to the party. they each brought jack a present. mistress mary brought him some roses. "they grew on the rose-bush you gave me," she said. at first the children played games. they played "blind man's buff," and "hide the thimble," and "button, button, who has the button." at four o'clock jack's mother came into the room. "i think you must all be hungry by this time," she said. "will you come and see what i have for you?" so the children followed mrs. horne through the long hall into the dining-room. oh, there were such good things for hungry children! there were pretty little cakes with pink and white frosting, and oranges, and nuts, and raisins, and apples, and candy. boy blue's father had heard about the party and had sent the apples from the farm. boy blue's mother had sent some candy made of maple sugar and nuts. oh, it was so good! when each one had eaten some of the cakes, and some of the nuts, and some of the candy, mrs. horne went out into the kitchen. jack began to laugh and his eyes looked very big and wise. "the surprise is coming!" cried boy blue. "the surprise is coming!" and sure enough! in came mrs. horne, carrying a huge pie in her hands. "this is jack horner's pie," she said. "i think it is full of plums." [illustration: "then he had put in his hand and pulled out something."] then she put it on the table in front of jack. he stood up and said:- "little jack horner stood near a corner cutting his birthday pie. he put in his thumb and pulled out a plum, and said, 'what a big boy am i!'" how the children laughed! jack had cut the paper crust of his birthday pie. then he had put in his hand and pulled out something. it was surely too big for a real plum. "for boy blue," said jack, giving him the package. boy blue took off the white paper and there was a tiny horn, tied with a blue ribbon. then jack pulled out another plum. it was a book about flowers for mistress mary. tommy tucker had a knife. "that's to cut your bread with," said jack horner. mary found a woolly lamb in her plum. the lamb's head would come off, an inside was a tiny bottle of cologne. jack and jill each had a little pail filled with candies. jack's plum was in the very bottom of the pie. it was a dear little watch. "now, i shall not be late to school again," he said. it was jack, you know, who let mary's lamb into school. he was late that morning and did not shut the door. when it was time for the children to go home mr. horne packed them all into his big sleigh. "good-bye, jack!" they cried. "good-bye, jack horner, we have had a lovely time!" there was an old woman who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn't know what to do, she gave them some butter without any bread; then she spanked them all soundly, and sent them to bed. the old woman in the shoe you remember i told you that boy blue lived on a big farm. in the winter boy blue could not go to school because the school-house was so far from his home. so mary's mother said, "boy blue can spend the winter with us and go to school with mary." of course the children thought that would be fine. mary didn't have any brothers or sisters, and sometimes she was rather lonely. so boy blue went to spend the winter with mary. he was sorry to leave fire-cracker and his eight white snowballs. "i shall be back in the spring," he said. "john will have to take care of you this winter." boy blue had never seen such a large school in all his life. in the little country school there were only ten children. in mary's school there were fifty boys and girls in one room, and there were ten rooms in the school-house. now it was winter, and there was snow on the ground. the children had been to school three months. every afternoon they had great fun coasting down the long hill behind the school-house. one day miss smith said, "children, do you know what month this is?" "yes, yes!" they all said. "this is december." "christmas comes this month," said one little girl. then they all talked at once. oh, how they liked christmas, and santa claus and christmas trees! they hoped santa claus would bring them many presents. at last miss smith said, "shall we have a christmas tree this year in school?" of course they all wanted one. "i know something better than a christmas tree," said miss smith. "something better than a christmas tree!" said mistress mary. "what can it be?" "i must tell you about it," said miss smith. "you know i have told you about mrs. brown." "yes," said boy blue, "she is the 'old woman in the shoe.'" miss smith laughed. "is that what you call her?" she said. "yes," said mary, "you know she has a great many children." "well, tommy and betty brown have been sick a long time. "mrs. brown has had to work very hard to get food to eat. "i am afraid they will not have a happy christmas. "i think we might have a christmas box, and fill it with all kinds of good things. "we can put things to eat and wear in the box, and you can bring some toys, too. "then on christmas day we can send the box to mrs. brown. "that would make her happy, and it would make us happy, too." the children all thought this was a very good idea. jack said, "i think it would be great fun if we could have a box the shape of a big shoe. i know my father could make us one. i will ask him to-night." so jack's father made a big wooden shoe, and the boys helped him paint it black. when the shoe was finished, the children began to fill it. in the toe of the shoe jack put two large squashes. mary brought a bag of potatoes and some big red apples. boy blue wrote a letter to his mother and told her about the christmas shoe. so mrs. snow sent a roasted chicken, a dozen eggs, and some fresh butter that she had made. i cannot tell you all the things that found their way into that wooden shoe. there was everything that hungry little boys and girls like to eat. there were games and toys for the boys, and dolls with pretty dresses for the girls. and there was a fine new dress for mrs. brown, too. the day before christmas the shoe was ready and mr. horne came for it with a big wagon. miss smith put a card in the shoe. it said:-"a merry christmas to mrs. brown and all the little browns, from maggie's and tommy's schoolmates." "look, mamma!" said little maggie brown. "what is that wagon stopping here for, and what is that funny thing in it?" mrs. brown came to the window just as mr. home took the shoe out of the wagon. [illustration] "why, it is a big shoe," laughed mrs. brown. "i guess it is for me to keep you all in." tommy, and katie, and mary, and alice, all ran to see. oh, they were so happy when the shoe was brought in and they found it was something for them! mrs. brown was happy, too, to think that her children would have such a merry christmas. she told mr. horne to wish all the children who sent the shoe a very, very happy christmas. "and tell them," she said, "to come and see 'the old woman in the shoe' and her children!" little miss muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey; there came a big spider and sat down beside her, and frightened miss muffet away. miss muffet it was the christmas vacation and boy blue and mary were at home every day. boy blue wished to go to his own home on the farm in his vacation. he wished to see his father and mother, and little sister, and fire-cracker, and his eight snowballs. but one night he had a letter from his mother. of course he could read it himself, because he was seven years old and had been to school two years. when he read the letter he danced up and down for joy. he danced right through the hall into the dining-room and showed his letter to mary. then she danced, too, because the letter said that boy blue's father and mother were coming to see him the very next day. and, best of all, little sister was coming to stay two weeks. when it was time to go to the station to meet little sister and her mother. boy blue could hardly wait for the train. at last it came, bringing the two dearest people in all the world, and boy blue laughed, and cried, and asked questions, all in the same minute. "where is papa? "is he coming to-morrow? "how is fire-cracker? "are you going to stay two weeks?" "wait, wait, children!" said mrs. snow, "ask one question at a time." they rode to mary's house in a car, and all these questions and many others were asked and answered. it was the night before christmas and the children were going to hang up their stockings. "hang them by the chimney in your playroom," said mary's mother. "then santa claus won't have far to go." so the children ran up to the playroom with their stockings. "oh, look!" said boy blue. "sister's stocking is so small that santa claus can't get even a rag doll into it." mary found a basket for little sister. "you can put this right under your stocking, dear," she said. "i will write a letter to santa claus and tell him where to put your presents." so she wrote this letter and pinned it on the toe of the tiny stocking: "dear santa claus:--little sister's stocking is so small i have given her a basket. please put her presents in it." santa claus must have read the note, for the next morning the basket was full. there was a basket under each of the other stockings, too. on each one was a note, saying:-"your stockings were not large enough. i had to get a basket for you, too." santa claus. in boy blue's basket there were a horn and a drum, a box of tin soldiers, and three books. under the basket was a new red sled. mary found two dolls and a trunk full of dresses for them, a toy kitchen, and a writing desk in her basket. little sister sat on the floor and began to take the presents out of her basket, one at a time. first, there was a big wax doll in a doll carriage. it was such a pretty doll, with a blue coat and white hood, all ready to take out to ride! then there were some picture books and another doll,--a big one that could open and shut her eyes. [illustration] but what was this in the bottom of the basket? it was very soft and white and had curly hair. little sister picked it up carefully. "put it on your head," said boy blue. so sister put it on. it was a fur cap. then she found a fur collar, and last of all, a dear little fur muff. when she had them all on, she ran up to her mother. "see my muff, mamma!" she cried. then she ran to every one, saying:--"muff! muff! see my little muff!" "what a dear little miss muffet you are!" said uncle jack. "oh." said boy blue, "we shall call you 'miss muffet'!" "merry christmas, miss muffet!" humpty dumpty sat on a wall; humpty dumpty had a great fall; all the king's horses, and all the king's men, couldn't put humpty dumpty together again. humpty dumpty tommy tucker had lived on the farm with grandma and grandpa hall a long time. he and rags were very happy in their new home. rags was getting fat now, and every saturday he had a fine bath. at least tommy said it was a fine bath, but rags did not seem to agree with him. "bow-wow," he would say, when he saw the big tub full of water, "i must run and hide." but tommy always found him, and rags always had his bath. when school began in september, grandma hall took tommy to school. he had a new suit of clothes, a new pair of boots, and a pretty cap to match his suit. the school was two miles from the farm, so that the first morning he rode in the carriage with grandma hall because she could not walk so far. every day after that tommy walked to school in the morning and home again at night. he carried his dinner in a new pail, and he always found something very good in that pail when he opened it at noon. all the rest of the children brought their dinner, too, and if i should tell you all the things those children did at noon, it would fill a book. when the nuts were ripe, they went into the woods and gathered big baskets full. they found pretty flowers and autumn leaves and made their school-room bright with them. they played ball, and hide and seek. oh, there were such beautiful places to hide,--behind the wood-pile, in the wood-box, behind trees and fences, and in the woods! tommy had never had such a good time in his life. he did not play all the time, because he was working very hard to catch up with the other boys. before the winter was over he was in the class with jack and jill, and grandma said she was very proud of him. but i must tell you of the jack-o'-lanterns the children made for hallowe'en. tommy did not know much about hallowe'en, for he had always lived in the city. he had seen boys make jack-o'-lanterns out of paper boxes. but he had never seen a real pumpkin jack-o'-lantern in his life. one day, near the last of october, the children were all talking about hallowe'en and the fun they would have with their lanterns. "you'll make one, won't you, tommy?" said jack. of course tommy wanted to make one if the boys would show him how. "i know what would be fun," said jill. "let's bring our pumpkins to school and make our lanterns at noon." "yes, yes, that is just the thing!" they shouted. "then when they are finished we can ask miss phillips which is the prettiest." as if a jack-o'-lantern could ever be pretty! the next morning there was a funny sight in the dressing-room. under each hook was a pumpkin. there were big ones, little ones, fat ones, long ones, short ones, yellow ones, and green ones. in fact, no two pumpkins were alike, except of course, jack's and jill's. "it will never do for us to have ours different," said jill. so they hunted a long time to find two that were just alike. tommy tried very hard to think of his arithmetic and geography and spelling that morning. but he couldn't help thinking of his pumpkin, which was waiting to be made into a jack-o'-lantern. at last it was noon. i am afraid the children did not care what they had for dinner that noon, and they ate very fast. they needed all the time they could get for their jack-o'-lanterns. first, they cut off the top of the pumpkin, and cut out all the seeds. then came the fun of making the lantern's face. he must have two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and two ears. jack cut two round holes for eyes. a long cut in the middle was the nose. the mouth curved up at both ends, and the holes at the sides were ears. some of the lanterns had two very good rows of teeth. tom's pumpkin was long and narrow. he said it looked so much like a big egg that he was going to name it "humpty dumpty." "oh, let's all name our lanterns!" said the children. "mine is so round i shall call it 'tubby'," said jack. then jill named hers "bubby." one of the boys named his "green top," and another was "big eyes." just as the bell rang for school the last one was finished. how miss phillips laughed when the children marched in, each one carrying a funny jack-o'-lantern! she said she could not tell which one was the prettiest. after she had been introduced to each one they were put into the hall to wait for school to be over. hallowe'en night every lantern had a candle in it, and the children had great fun trying to frighten their mothers and fathers and each other. of course grandpa hall jumped and ran when he saw a big bright face coming at him from the barn. then grandma hall saw it in the woodshed, and she ran and hid behind the kitchen door. tommy played with humpty dumpty for several days. saturday morning he was in the meadow playing with humpty dumpty when jack and jill came to ask him to go with them to the woods. tommy put humpty dumpty up on the stone wall and ran off with the twins. grandpa hall's old white cow was in the meadow eating grass. as she came near the wall she saw something that looked very much like a pumpkin. mrs. cow was fond of pumpkins, so she thought she would go and see what it really was on the wall. "why, it surely is a pumpkin," said mrs. cow, "but i wonder what all those holes are for." humpty dumpty felt very much hurt to think that mrs. cow should speak of his eyes and mouth as holes. "but then, of course," thought humpty, "she does not know that i am not a pumpkin now." mrs. cow kept putting her nose nearer and nearer to humpty. at last she got so near that she made him jump. at least, i think he must have jumped, for he fell from the wall to the ground. when mrs. cow saw the pumpkin all broken in pieces she thought she might as well eat it, and she did. [illustration] at first she liked the pumpkin very much, but then she thought it didn't taste just right. "i don't believe pumpkins with big round holes in them are good to eat," said mrs. cow. but when tommy found what had happened to humpty dumpty, he said to grandpa hall, "i wonder which mrs. cow liked best, the jack-o'-lantern or the candle!" the children in miss smith's room had been just as busy as bees all day. now they were tired, and they could not work any more. mary put her head down on her desk and nearly went to sleep. most of the boys were looking out of the window, because they liked to watch it snow. it had been snowing hard all day and they were thinking of the snowballs they would make, and of the snow forts that they would build on the hill. how could they study when they were thinking of all those things? "miss smith," said bo-peep, looking up from her work, "won't you please tell us a story? it is getting so dark that i cannot see to write." miss smith thought a minute and then said, "how would you like to play at being a book?" every little face brightened. the boys looked at miss smith and forgot about the snow forts. mary sat up and did not feel one bit sleepy. "why, miss smith," said mary, "how can we be a book?" "i will show you," said miss smith. "we will play that we are the mother goose book. "you must each think of some child from mother goose land whom you would like to be. "then each one can come to the front of the room and play at being that little child. "the rest of us will try to guess who the child is." the children all thought that would be great fun, and for a few minutes it was so quiet they could almost hear the snow falling. at the end of five minutes miss smith said, "now it is time to begin. you may be on the first page in our book, jack. "you may use anything in the room you need to help you in acting your part." jack went into the hall. in a minute he pushed the door open a little way and looked in. then he came into the school-room. he had his books under his arm, and as he came in very slowly he looked at the clock. "oh, i know!" said john. "hickory, dickory, dock." [illustration: "she looked so funny as she came into the room riding on a broom"] "no, no," said mary, "that is:- 'a dillar, a dollar, a ten o'clock scholar, what makes you come so soon? you used to come at ten o'clock, and now you come at noon.'" "that is right," said jack. "mary guessed it." then it was mary's turn to be a page in the mother goose book. when she came in she had on miss smith's long white apron, her hair was done up high on her head, and she was riding on a broom. she looked so funny that all the children laughed. at last edith stopped laughing and began to sing: "old woman, old woman, old woman, said i. oh whither, oh whither, oh whither so high? to sweep the cobwebs out of the sky; but i'll be back again by-and-by." yes, edith had guessed right, so she ran out of the room. when she came back the children all looked and looked. who could she be? she hadn't changed herself one bit, and she only stood still and looked at them. "we are caught this time," laughed miss smith. just then a little girl in the back of the room jumped up and said: "oh, see the curl in the middle of her forehead! i know who she is! 'there was a little girl, and she had a little curl. and it hung right down on her forehead. when she was good she was very good indeed; but when she was bad she was horrid.'" tommy went out next, and when he came back he had a little toy pig under his arm. "i can think of ever so many pigs in mother goose," said alice. "have you been to market, tommy?" "no, no," said tommy, "i did not buy this good fat pig." "i know who you are, and where you got your pig," laughed jill. "tom, tom, the piper's son, stole a pig and away he run." mistress mary came in with her watering pot to water her flowers. boy blue was quickly guessed because he had a horn. just as jack and jill came in with a pail of water, the bell rang. it was time to go home! every one of the children was sorry not to see all of the book. "some day we will play this game again," said miss smith. "then we can see the rest of the pages." as they ran home together they were all talking of the new game. that night they got out their mother goose books and read them through, so that the next time they would be sure to guess every rhyme. po-no-kah an indian tale of long ago by mary mapes dodge 1903 po-no-kah. an indian story of long ago. i. the hedden family. we who live in comfortable country homes, secure from every invader, find it difficult to conceive the trials that beset the hardy pioneers who settled our western country during the last century. in those days, and for many a year afterward, hostile indians swarmed in every direction, wherever the white man had made a clearing, or started a home for himself in the wilderness. sometimes the pioneer would be unmolested, but oftener his days were full of anxiety and danger. indeed, history tells of many a time when the settler, after leaving home in the morning in search of game for his happy household would return at night to find his family murdered or carried away and his cabin a mass of smoking ruins. only in the comparatively crowded settlements, where strength was in numbers, could the white inhabitants hope for security--though bought at the price of constant vigilance and precaution. in one of these settlements, where a few neatly whitewashed cabins, and rougher log huts, clustered on the banks of a bend in the ohio river, dwelt a man named hedden, with his wife and three children. his farm stretched further into the wilderness than his neighbors', for his had been one of the first cabins built there, and his axe, ringing merrily through the long days, had hewn down an opening in the forest, afterward famous in that locality as "neighbor hedden's clearing." here he had planted and gathered his crops year after year, and in spite of annoyances from the indians, who robbed his fields, and from bears, who sometimes visited his farm stock, his family had lived in security so long that, as the settlement grew, his wife sang at her work, and his little ones shouted at their play as merrily as though new york or boston were within a stone's throw. to be sure, the children were bidden never to stray far from home, especially at nightfall; and the crack of rifles ringing now and then through the forest paled their cheeks for an instant, as the thought of some shaggy bear, furious in his death agony, crossed their minds. sometimes, too, the children would whisper together of the fate of poor annie green, who, a few years before had been found killed in the forest; or their mother would tell them with pale lips of the night when their father and neighbor freeman encountered two painted indians near the cabin. the tomahawk of the indian who tried to kill their father was still hanging upon the cabin wall. but all this had happened twelve years earlier--before bessie, the oldest girl, was born--and seemed to the children's minds like a bit of ancient history--almost as far off as the exploits of hannibal or julius caesar appear to us. so, as i have said, the girls and boys of the settlement shouted joyously at their play, or ran in merry groups to the rough log hut, called "the school-house," little dreaming of the cares and anxieties of their elders. bessie hedden was a merry-hearted creature, and so pretty that, had she been an indian maiden, she would have been known as "wild rose," or "singing bird," or "water lily," or some such name. as it was, many of the villagers called her "little sunshine," for her joyous spirit could light up the darkest corner. she was faithful at school, affectionate and industrious at home, and joyous and honorable among her playmates. what wonder, then, that everybody loved her, or that she was happiest among the happy? her brother rudolph was much younger than she,--a rosy-checked, strong-armed little urchin of seven years; and kitty, the youngest of the hedden children, was but three years of age at the date at which my story opens. there was one other individual belonging to the family circle, larger even than bessie, stronger and saucier even than rudolph, and but little older than kitty. he had no hands, yet once did, as all admitted, the best day's work ever performed by any member of the family. this individual's name was bouncer, and he had a way of walking about on all-fours, and barking--probably in consequence of his having been created a dog. bouncer loved all the children dearly; but, stout-hearted fellow that he was, he loved the weakest one best; and, therefore, little kitty was never without a friend and protector. ever since a certain day in the summer, when she had fallen into the stream, and had been carried home insensible by bouncer, kitty had loved the huge mastiff dearly, and nightly added to her simple prayer, "please, god, bless dear bouncer, too!" and bouncer _was_ blessed beyond most dogs. gentle as a baby when kitty's arm was about his neck, he was fierce as a lion when fierceness was required. his great white teeth were a terror to evil-doers, and his bark in the dead of night would make venturesome bears sneak back into the forest like kittens. often would mrs. hedden say to her neighbors, that with "husband's rifle and bouncer's teeth, she felt that she lived in a fortress. as for the children," she would add, laughingly, "i scarcely ever feel any anxiety about them, when i know that bouncer has joined their little expeditions. he is a regiment in himself." ii. exploring the stream. one of the favorite holiday resorts of bessie and rudolph was a lovely spot in the forest, not a quarter of a mile from the house. shaded by giant oaks, whose gnarled roots lay like serpents, half hidden in the moss, ran a streamlet, covered with sunny speckles, where parted leaves admitted the sunshine. flowers grew along its banks in wild profusion, and it held its wayward course with many a rippling fall and fantastic turn, until it was lost in the shades of the forest. "where does it go to, i wonder?" the children often would say to each other, longing for permission to follow its windings farther than the limits prescribed by their parents would allow. "to the ocean, of course," rudolph would answer, triumphantly; while bessie, looking at its golden ripple, and listening to its musical song, half believed that it carried its wealth of sparkling jewels to fairyland itself. sometimes, when bouncer was with them, they lingered so long by the mysterious streamlet, sending chip boats adrift upon its surface, or trying to adjust troublesome little water-wheels under some of its tiny cascades, that mrs. hedden would blow the big horn as a signal for their return; and as they ran home, playing with bouncer by the way, or scolding him for shaking his wet sides under their very faces, they would inwardly resolve to coax father to take them up the stream on the very first pleasant saturday. accordingly, on one bright friday in june, as bessie and rudolph were returning from school together, they ran toward their father, who was working in the clearing. "father! father!" they shouted, "will you take us down the stream to-morrow?--we want to see where it goes to." "goes to?" laughed back the father. "why, it goes to the moon; didn't kitty say so last night?" "now, father," returned bessie, pouting just a little, "you _know_ we don't believe that. we want you so much to take us in the boat; it doesn't leak at all now--oh! do." and both children fairly capered in their excitement. mr. hedden smiled; but; after wiping his forehead with a red and yellow handkerchief, went on thoughtfully with his work without returning any answer. the children, looking wistfully at him a moment, turned toward the house, wondering among themselves, "what father meant to do about it." that evening, at the supper-table (where they didn't have napkin rings or silver salt-cellars, i can assure you), mr. hedden asked his wife whether tom hennessy was back from "up river" yet? "i think he came home yesterday," returned his wife. "why do you ask?" "because i thought, as to-morrow'll be a holiday, i'd get him to take the youngsters down the stream in the scow." "oh! husband," rejoined mrs. hedden, looking up anxiously, "do you think it's safe?" "why not, betsey?--the scow doesn't leak; and even if it did, the water isn't above tom's waist anywhere." "i don't mean anything of that kind," pursued the wife, smiling in spite of herself at the joyful faces of the young folks. "i--i mean the indians." "oh, never fear about them; i'll give tom every necessary caution," was the answer. "the boat won't be gone more than two hours altogether; and, to my mind, there wouldn't be the slightest danger in letting even little kitty join the party." "oh! tanky, poppy, tanky!" shouted kitty, clapping her chubby hands in great glee. every one at the table laughed heartily at her unexpected response. bright and early the next morning, the children stood in the door-way, eagerly looking out for tom. big tom, the village boys called him; and well they might, for he was a staunch, burly fellow, who looked as if he could crush an indian in each hand--not that he had ever had an opportunity to perform that remarkable feat, for tom hennessy had but recently arrived from a large town in the east; but he _looked_ as if he could do it; and, therefore, had credit for any amount of prowess and strength. after sundry directions given by mr. hedden to tom, and a command from their mother for the little folks to be home at dinner-time, they set forth amid shouts of laughter and merriment. kitty was there in all her glory, for, after what "poppy" had said, she had insisted upon joining the party. even bouncer, in spite of many a "go back, sir!" "call him, mother!" had quietly insinuated himself into the group, and neither threats nor coaxing could force him away. it was a glorious day; and, as they neared the stream, it seemed to sparkle into joyous welcome at their approach. soon, comfortably seated in the scow, they were pushed and rowed laboriously along by the good-natured tom, while bouncer panted along the bank, or dashed into the water, splashing the boat in fine style. in passing the accustomed "limits," the delight of the children knew no bounds. "now for it!" cried bessie, clapping her hands. "now we shall find out where the stream goes to!" and so they sailed along, following its graceful windings--sometimes touching bottom, and sometimes skimming smoothly over deep water, where kitty could no longer clutch for the tall, bright grass that here and there had reared itself above the surface. often big tom would sing out, "lie low!" as some great bough, hanging over the stream, seemed stretching out its arms to catch them; and often they were nearly checked in their course by a fallen trunk, or the shallowness of the water. at last, upon reaching a very troublesome spot, tom cried good-naturedly-"now, youngsters, you must all get out while i turn the scow over this 'ere log, and then you can jump in again on t'other side." with merry shouts they leaped out, one after the other, tom holding kitty in his arms, as he stood knee-deep in the water. "what is the matter with bouncer?" cried bessie. there was no time for a reply. looking up, the frightened party saw three hideous faces peering at them over the bushes! "the indians! the indians!" screamed bessie. springing to the shore, and catching rudolph with one arm, while he held kitty tightly in the other, tom hennessy dashed into the forest, calling upon bessie to follow. poor bessie! what could she do? with a thrill of horror she saw two fierce savages bounding after them with fearful yells, while a third, with upraised club, and tomahawk and scalping-knife in his belt, was rushing toward her. uttering one long piercing scream, the poor girl knelt to await her doom. a prolonged roar of fury caused her to raise her head. bouncer, brave, noble bouncer, and the indian had fallen together in a deadly struggle! now was her time! with new energy and hope, she sprang to her feet, and darted through the forest, rending the air with cries for help, and unconscious of whither she was flying. "rudolph! kitty!" she cried, frantically. "god in heaven help us! oh! help us!" iii. where are the children? it was nearly dinner-time in the hedden cottage. farmer hedden sat in the doorway, equipped in his hunting dress--for he usually spent saturday afternoons in the forest; and it was only at his wife's solicitation that he had consented to wait and "take a bite of dinner" before starting, every now and then he raised his head from the almanac, over which he was bending, to listen to the whirr of his wife's spinning-wheel, and her merry song issuing from the cottage, or to cast an impatient glance in the direction of the streamlet. within, all was neatness and cheerfulness; the clean deal table was arranged with its row of yellow platters and shining pewter-mugs--even the stools were standing round it, ready for the hungry household that usually assembled at noon, eager for dinner. "father's" and "mother's" places were at either end of the table; rudolph's and kitty's at one side (kitty had a high chair made by "father" out of young oak branches); bessie's opposite; and, beside hers, the prettiest plate; and the brightest mug for big tom--for, of course, he must be asked to stay. everything was ready. far back in the open fireplace the fagots were blazing and snapping. hanging above them, the great iron pot threw forth a circle of noisy steam around the loosely fitted lid, while the potatoes within were in a high state of commotion--little ones tumbling pell-mell over big ones, and big ones rocking dolefully backward and forward in the boiling water as though they felt sure their end was approaching. "blow the horn again, john," called out mrs. hedden, as she cut another slice from the big brown loaf that had rapidly been growing less under her shining knife. "ha! ha! they can't help hearing _that_," she laughed, as her husband blew a blast even louder than usual. after waiting a moment, mr. hedden came in, throwing the almanac on a low wooden settee as he entered. "no use waiting any longer, wifey--let's sit by. i don't see a sign of the youngsters; though it did seem to me i heard some of 'em screaming and laughing in the distance a bit ago. 'twon't do, though," he continued, shaking his head; "we must make the crazy little cubs mind the horn closer. play's play, and all well enough in its way, but you must teach children regularity from the very outset, or they'll never be good for much." "that's true enough, john," answered his wife, as she "dished" some of the steaming potatoes--leaving a goodly number in the pot for the little folk--"that's true enough; but you know this is a day of extra frolic for the children. they're having such fun, likely, they've no notion how the time is passing. as for the horn, who could expect mortal ears to hear _that_--with bessie and big tom laughing and singing, and rudolph screaming with fun--as i know he is; and little kit, bless her! just frantic with delight; i think i can see them now, the merry madcaps!" ah! happy, unconscious mother, if you _could_ have seen them--if their cries of terror could but have reached your ears! finally, neighbor hedden arose, shoving back his stool on the sanded floor. "well, well, wifey, you're right enough, no doubt; but i tell you it isn't best to be too easy with youngsters, though ours are the best going, if i _do_ say it. a good trouncing all around, when they come in, wouldn't be a bit too much for them for being so late;" and, half in fun, half in earnest, he shook his head rather fiercely at his wife, and stalked out of the cottage. presently she laughed outright to hear the loud, impatient tones issuing from the great tin horn. "that'll fetch them, i reckon," said neighbor hedden, showing a smiling face at the window. as another hour passed away, the songs grew fewer and fainter upon the mother's lips--at first from vexation, and, finally, from weariness and a vague feeling of anxiety. "bessie should know better," she thought to herself, "than to stay so long. i wish i had not let kitty go with them." the next moment she smiled to think how hungry the children would be when they returned, and half wished that it would not be "spoiling" them to make them a good sugar-cake for their supper. not until the shadows grew longer upon the edge of the forest, and threatening clouds grew thicker overhead, did her heart quail or her cheek grow white with sudden fear. "oh! what _can_ keep them, i wonder! why didn't i ask john to go look for them?" she asked herself over and over again. but mrs. hedden was not one to sit weeping with folded hands while anything remained to be done. it was not long before their nearest neighbor, who was still at work, enjoying the coolness of the afternoon, leaned upon his spade to wonder what on earth neighbor hedden's wife was up to now. "why, look there! bob," he called out to his son, "if she ain't leaping over this way like a year-old colt!" in the mean time, neighbor hedden himself was having but sorry sport in the forest. he saw nothing worth even pointing his gun at, and felt altogether so ill at ease and so fidgety as he trudged along, stepping now upon the soft moss, and now upon fallen branches that crackled even under the stealthy tread of his hunting moccasins, that i doubt whether half the bears hidden in the depths of the forest were not in a livelier mood than he. not that he had anything to make him feel especially ill-humored, unless it was the disobedience of his children in having failed to appear at dinner-time--but it seemed to him that there was something going wrong in the world, some screw loose in his affairs that, unless he turned it tight in time, would cause his happiness and the prosperity of his home to fall in ruins about him. after awhile this feeling became so strong that he seated himself upon a stone to think. "i haven't been as neighborly as i might have been," he reflected: "there's many a turn been wanting by these new-comers, the morrises, that i might have tended to, if i hadn't been so wrapped up in my own affairs. come to think, almost the only kindness i've done for nearly a year past was in giving a bag of potatoes to that sick fellow, po-no-kah, who seemed to me to be a good fellow, as indians go. however, it ain't much kindness to give to those murderous red-skins when there's plenty of white men wanting help. well, if i'm not agoin' to shoot anything, i guess i'd better go home." with these last words, uttered half aloud, neighbor hedden arose, and walked a few steps in the direction of his home. presently he paused again, muttering to himself-"it's blamed queer i haven't heard the youngsters coming down with the scow; i certainly should have heard them if they'd passed anywhere near--guess i'd best walk on a little way up stream." so saying, he turned, with a new anxiety upon his countenance, and moved with rapid strides toward the rivulet, that still ran rippling on, though the bright sparkles that lit its surface at noon had vanished. indeed, by this time the sunshine was, fast vanishing, too, for heavy clouds were gathering overhead, while those in the west were gilded on their lower edge. iv. the search. neighbor hedden, now intent upon his new thoughts, hurried along the bank of the stream. there were pretty tassel-flowers and jack-in-pulpits growing there, which at any other time he might have plucked, and carried home in his cap for kitty; but he did not heed them now. something in the distance had caught his eye, something that, showing darkly through the trees, from a bend in the streamlet, caused his breathing to grow thicker and his stride to change into a run--_it was the empty boat_! hastening toward it, in the vain hope that he would find his little ones playing somewhere near the spot, he clutched his ride more firmly, and gasped out their names one by one. where were they?--his sunny-hearted bessie, his manly little rudolph, and kitty, his bright-eyed darling? alas! the only answer to the father's call was the angry mutter of the thunder, or the quick lightning that flashed through the gathering gloom! in frantic haste he searched in every direction. "perhaps," thought he, "they have become frightened at the sound of bears, and hidden themselves in a thicket. they may even have got tired and gone to sleep. but where is tom hennessy?" again and again he returned to the boat, as though some clue might there be found to the missing ones; but as often he turned back in despair, trusting now only to the flashes of the lightning to aid him in his search. the sharp twigs and branches tore his face and hands as, bending low, he forced himself where the tangled undergrowth stood thickest. soon his hunting-cap was dragged from his head, as by some angry hand; he knew that it had caught upon the branches, and did not even try to find it in the darkness. the heavy drops of rain, falling upon his bare head, cooled him with a strange feeling of relief. next his gun, which he had leaned against a tree, while on hands and knees he had forced his way into some brush, was swallowed up in the darkness. in vain he peered around him at every flash that lit the forest--he could see nothing of it. suddenly a bright gleam, shooting across his pathway, revealed something that instantly caught his eye--it was a small bit of blue ribbon, such as bessie often wore. bending to pick it up, he started back in horror! the light had lasted but an instant, yet it had been long enough to show him that the ribbon was stained with blood, while near it the stones and leaves shone crimson! even the gnarled roots of a fallen tree were dabbled with a fearful stain. he could see it all distinctly. with upraised arms, he knelt and poured forth an agonized prayer-"great god! where are my children? oh! have mercy! have mercy!" flash after flash lighted up the kneeling form. presently loud voices resounded through the forest: "what, ho!" "hedden! hedden!" "hennessy! tom!" "hallo!" hedden stood upright. the voices were familiar. he shouted back lustily, and hurried toward the approaching lanterns. alas! he came upon faces almost as pale and inquiring us his own--no news on either side! his neighbors had eagerly responded to the mother's appeal, but so far had searched the forest in vain. if bouncer only could be found; and, for almost the first time in years, hedden called, "bouncer! bouncer!" without seeing the great fellow leaping toward him. what wonder, though--even bouncer could scarcely have recognized that voice now! "hark!" cried one of the neighbors. they listened. there was certainly a panting sound from some spot not far away. "bouncer! bouncer!" cried the poor father. the panting again; they lowered their lanterns. what was that lying upon the ground--lying there close by bouncer? it was bessie! they rushed toward her. she was lying very still; bouncer was breathing heavily. they raised her from the ground. "bessie! bessie! my darling, speak to me!" cried the father. her eyes opened slowly; for an instant she did not know who held her. "bessie, child, it's father--speak to me!" she looked at him an instant, then with a pitiful cry buried her face in his bosom. bouncer staggered forward, and now, by the light of the lanterns, they could see a broad gash upon his shoulder, and another upon his head. he looked up at bessie with a mournful whine. "oh, bouncer, dear bouncer! can't _you_ tell me where they are?" cried bessie, turning suddenly, and gazing upon him with streaming eyes. the brave fellow tried to wag his tail, but his strength was failing fast. "he came to me only a little while ago," sobbed bessie. "oh! i was so thankful! but he came so slowly i knew he was hurt. i put out my hand and felt him all hot and wet--i can't remember anything since then. oh! father, don't let poor bouncer die--see! he is falling! dear old bouncer!" and she threw herself down beside him. the poor fellow turned his head, and tried to lick her hand; then started up, growling with something like his old savageness, and fell over. they tried to lift him; they called his name. even bessie attempted to arouse him with a cheerful call. there was no movement;--bouncer was dead! it seemed hard to leave the body of the faithful creature lying exposed in the forest, but this was no time to bury him. all that they could gather from bessie's confused account of the surprise by the indians, and her own escape, served to make the party feel that further effort was almost hopeless--still they would not despair. it was decided that one of their number should take the rescued girl back to her mother, while the rest should proceed in their search. the fury of the storm had passed by this time, though the rain fell in great splashing drops, and the wind muttered angrily among the trees in answer to the distant rumbling of the thunder. drenched to her skin, and shivering with excitement, bessie begged that she might go with her father. "we will find them soon," she pleaded; "i'm sure we will, and then we can all go home together. it will frighten mother so dreadfully to see me coming alone, without rudolph and kittie, and bouncer!" the man whose lantern had gleamed upon her shaded the light with his great rough hand from the spot where bouncer lay, and in a voice as tender as a woman's, urged her to go with him at once, "go, bessie," said her father hurriedly, on seeing that she still resisted, "we are losing time." this was enough. "good-night, dear father!" she sobbed, as she was led away; "don't tell rudolph about bouncer until he gets home, father--it will almost break his heart." a voice that even bessie could scarcely recognize called back through the darkness: "good-night, my child. go easy, joe, and keep a sharp look-out." "ay! ay!" answered the man in a suppressed voice, as he grasped more firmly the little hand in his, and hurried on. after a wearisome tramp, they at last reached the edge of the forest. bessie started to see a tall, white figure rushing with outstretched arms toward them. "it's the mother," said joe, pityingly, raising the lantern as he spoke. "oh, joe!" screamed the poor woman, "have you found them?--tell me, quick!" "well--no, mrs. hedden," he shouted in reply, "not exactly that--but we've got the gal safe an' sound--not a scratch on her." in another moment bessie was in her mother's arms. "only me, mother!" she sobbed; "only me; but father's looking for them and, oh! mother, bouncer is dead!" the next day brought no better tidings. at noon the men returned from their search, jaded and dispirited. after the first explanations were over, mr. hedden called one of the party aside and whispered, huskily-"give her this, dennis--i can't; and tell her it was the only trace we could find." the mother's quick eye caught sight of the object before her husband had fairly drawn it from beneath his hunting-jacket. "it's kitty's hood," she cried, stretching forth her hand as she fell senseless to the floor. that evening, and for many a day afterward, the search was continued but without success; no trace could be found of either tom hennessy, rudolph, or little kitty. v. the captives. and what had befallen tom and the children, on the fearful day of their sail up the beautiful stream? bessie's eyes had not deceived her when, in one agonized glance, she had seen tom dash into the forest bearing rudolph and kitty in his arms, followed by yelling savages. the chase, however, was a short one; before tom had advanced many steps his pursuers closed upon him, and tearing the children from his embrace, bound his arms close to his body with deerskin thongs. the children, screaming with terror, struggled in the arms of the indians and called frantically upon tom for help; but he, poor fellow, could only turn his pitying eyes upon them and beg them to remain quiet. "it'll save you from worse things," he groaned. by this time several savages, darting from near hiding-places, had surrounded them and tom abandoned all hope of escape. bessie's screams had died away, and he felt sure that she had been killed by the indian who had first rushed upon her. after holding a moment's council the indians began a rapid march, hurrying tom along with them, and almost dragging the terrified children--who, each with a tiny hand in the grip of a painted warrior, ran panting by their sides. hurrying on, faster and faster, until even tom was nearly out of breath, the savages, without exchanging a word among themselves, continued their flight (for such it seemed), carefully avoiding even the breaking of a twig, or anything that could furnish a clue to those who might come in pursuit. soon kitty, who could run no more, was snatched angrily from the ground and carried, like a bundle, under the great muscular arm of one of the savages. but when rudolph showed evident signs of exhaustion, the indians paused, evidently consulting together whether they should not tomahawk the children at once. tom could stand it no longer. he declared that he would not go another step if the children were injured a hair. "let me carry them," he cried. "i am strong enough to bear a dozen youngsters--unbind me, i say, and hand 'em over." some of the red men knew enough of english to understand his meaning. with a contemptuous sneer one of them tossed rudolph on tom's back; then set one of his arms free, and drove him onward with many a brutal stroke. it was hard work for tom, shackled as he was, to bear the frightened boy, who at times clung to his throat so tightly as to almost strangle him. "hold on, rudolph, boy," he whispered; "lower down--there, that way. now don't cry; you're father's little man, you know." "oh, tom," sobbed the poor boy, "they'll kill us, i'm sure, as they killed little annie green. see, now, how they carry kitty--how they scrape her face against the bushes; oh! oh!" and rudolph hid his eyes in tom's hair, crying as if his little heart would break. "hush!" muttered tom, sternly, "or i'll put you down." in an instant one of the red men whose look, though grim and fearful enough, showed less savageness than his companions, gruffly took kitty from the indian who was carrying her with such cruel carelessness. the change comforted the child, and in a few moments the exhausted little creature was sleeping soundly upon his shoulder, never waking even through the thunder-storm that ere long seemed to rend the forest. in this way the indians hurried on, pausing once to change their captive's bands, so as to leave his right arm free instead of his left. now and then tom would put rudolph upon the ground for awhile, and when the little fellow flagged he would lift him up to his shoulder again. at nightfall the party halted and made a large fire of brush, by which they cooked some venison and hominy, which had been carried by them during the march. after partaking of their meal, and giving their prisoners a liberal supply, they disposed themselves for the night, first taking care to fasten tom's hands and feet securely, and even to bandage the children's ankles so that they could not stand. in vain tom peered about him for a chance of escape for himself and his charges--for he would on no account have left them behind--but there was no hope. his knife had been taken away from him, and all night long he was watched by two indians, who remained near him in a sitting posture. even when their dusky faces were lost in the darkness, he could see the gleam of their piercing eyes as the fire-light flashed and faded. once, when the pain from his fastenings became insupportable, he complained to one of the watchers and begged to be unbound for a moment, while a wild hope rushed through his heart that he might then, quick as a flash, seize rudolph and kitty and fly through the darkness out of the reach of his pursuers. vain hope! no opportunity came, though the indian readily complied with his request. almost every warrior raised himself upon his elbow in an instant, and he felt the glare of a dozen eyes upon him at the slightest motion he made. after the indian had loosened the fastenings somewhat, and given tom a drink of pure spring water, he even offered him some parched corn, and in no unfriendly way motioned to him to try and sleep; but all this show of kindness did not reassure tom. he had heard enough of indian warfare to feel that any consideration they might show their prisoners at first was often but a proof that they were reserving them for the greatest cruelties afterward. long before daylight the next morning, the march was resumed, in the same manner as on the previous day; and, indeed, for three or four days it was continued over a country dense with cedar thicket, and becoming rougher and more rocky as they journeyed on. at last, after traveling westward for a distance of ever a hundred miles--as nearly as tom could estimate--they saw, afar, rising from the lowlands, the smoke of an indian encampment. some one evidently had been on the look-out for them. before they reached the spot, they were welcomed with loud whoops and yells. presently the entire community, as it seemed, turned out to receive them--hundreds of savages, men, women, and children--who, when they saw the prisoners, pierced the air with wild shouts of joy. the men were painted in every conceivable way, with hideous daubs of color upon their limbs and faces, or tattooed so as to look more fearful still; their heads were closely shaved, leaving only a lock on the crown, called the scalp-lock, which was twisted up so as to hold tufts of brilliant feathers. the women, scarcely less hideous than the men (excepting here and there a young maiden, the joy of her tribe, standing apart from the rest), crowded fiercely about, and the children, naked and dirty, whooped and yelled like so many imps. the scene was certainly not likely to inspire the prisoners with any keen sense of security. indeed, tom expected instant death at their hands. as for rudolph and kitty, the poor little creatures were stupefied with terror, and clung to tom in a way that seemed to make the indian children half mad with delight. suddenly all the warriors arranged themselves into two long lines, facing each other--and, brandishing their tomahawks, switches, and clubs, called upon tom to run the gauntlet! one of the savages proceeded to set free the limbs of the captive, at the same time explaining to him, in broken english, the nature of the ceremony about to be enacted. this was nothing less than for tom to run between the lines, along their entire length, with the chance of receiving a blow from each indian as he passed. "run like deer!" said the indian, as he jerked off the last strip of hide from the captive's arm, "then he get more few knock." casting one despairing look about him, and seeing not a possible chance of escape, even if he were not bound to the spot by the presence of rudolph and kitty, poor tom entered upon the dread ordeal. his weariness was forgotten as, in very desperation, he flew between the lines so rapidly that for a short distance the blows fell but lightly upon him. soon a crushing stroke from the back of a tomahawk fell heavily upon his shoulder, but he did not falter; the yells and blows of the savages lent wings to his feet--until, at last, when the end was nearly reached, a huge chief struck him a blow, with his club, that felled him to the ground. springing up instantly, tom dashed forward again, and staggered on to the end of the line where he sank to the ground, unable to rise. up to the last moment he could hear the shrieks of rudolph rising above the din. the poor child had been forced to witness tom's suffering from the first. as soon as tom opened his eyes he saw the pale, tearful faces of rudolph and kitty. "don't cry, youngsters," he gasped; "be good, and we may get home again yet." "oh, come _now_," urged kitty; "come tell mammy--mammy'll whip'em for hurtin' 'oo; naughty injins!" rudolph, forgetting his misery for an instant, laughed outright at kitty's words. the next instant he shook his head solemnly--at her--"no, kitty, mother couldn't whip 'em. but oh, i wish we were home! i wish we were home!" he cried, giving vent to his terrors again, as he saw a group of red men moving hastily towards them. after dashing water over tom's wounds and laying him upon a bed of deer-skins, the savages seated themselves in a ring, and held a council to decide the fate of the prisoners. the warriors sat in silence while a great war-club was passed around the circle. those who were in favor of burning them alive struck the ground heavily with the weapon before handing it to the next warrior; while those who objected to putting them to death in that manner merely passed it on in silence. tom saw all this from where he lay, and he knew its meaning well. with a sinking heart he heard the heavy thump of the club as each warrior gave his cruel vote, until at last one chief, holding the club in the air, pointed with a meaning gesture--first at tom, then at rudolph and kitty. the chiefs responded with a grunt of assent to his inquiry concerning the latter, but shook their heads when their attention was directed to tom. then the noble fellow knew that not his fate, but that of the children was being decided; while they, unconscious little creatures, looked on half amused at what seemed to them some singular game. "hi!" whispered rudolph to kitty, "didn't that fellow hit hard, though?--he'll beat i guess." a moment more and the council was ended. one of the indians approached the children and daubed their faces with black; it was a fatal sign, for it proved that the vote had been against them--rudolph and kitty were to be put to death! vi. ka-te-qua. all that night, and for many days afterward, tom lay in a burning fever, quite unconscious of what was passing around him. meanwhile, strange to say, rudolph and kitty were treated almost with kindness. they were well fed, and were given the softest deer-skins to lie upon at night. finding themselves unharmed as the hours went on, the little creatures became more confident, and finally resumed their natural playfulness. kitty was never weary of the bright beads and ornaments of the indian maidens, and rudolph found great delight in shooting with the bows and arrows of the _papooses_ or children, who, in turn, were wonderfully amused at the bad shots of the little pale-face. now and then, to be sure, the vicious child of some chieftain would amuse itself by pricking kitty's tender skin with a thorn, and hearing her scream in consequence; or, having seen the black-and-blue marks upon her delicate arms, caused by the rough handling of her captors, they would pinch her flesh and watch for the change of color with intense interest. one day they tried it while rudolph was standing by, holding the hand of the squaw who had him in charge. no sooner did the usual scream escape kitty's lips than, quick as thought, the boy broke from the woman's grasp, and, rushing upon his sister's tormentor, laid the little savage in the dust and pummeled him well. instead of resenting this, the indians seemed to admire the pluck of the young pale-face, and he rose in their favor at once. especially did the old squaw, as indian women are called, applaud him. she was a strange old creature, named ka-te-qua (_female eagle_), and, being half crazy, was looked upon by the indians as one inspired by manitou, or the great spirit. besides, her brother had been a famous medicine-man[1] of the tribe; and her two sons, who had been slain in battle, were celebrated braves or warriors, each owning long chains of scalps, which they had taken from their enemies. so, of course, when she wagged her head in approbation of rudolph's conduct, all the women near her wagged their heads also. indeed, had tom remained ill a few weeks longer, the black marks on the children's faces would have worn off without any further injury being done them. but as he grew better, and, finally, was able to sit upright on his deer-skin couch, the malice of his captors was renewed. they resolved not only to carry out the sentence upon the children, but to put the sick pale-face to new tortures as soon as he was strong enough to afford them the requisite amount of sport on the occasion. accordingly on the fourth day after rudolph had punished the little "red-skin," preparations were begun. heaps of fagots were industriously piled against an oak tree, which stood apart. tom, with feet shackled, and his arms tightly secured to his sides, was led out to witness the fearful scene. rudolph and kitty were seized, and, in spite of their struggles, bound side by side to the tree. already the wild dance of the indians had begun. frightful yells and whoops filled the air, and even women and little dusky children clapped their hands and shouted with excitement and delight. they brought armfuls of brush and laid it close to the pile. nothing was needed to complete the deed but to apply the fatal torches, now sending forth hot, fierce gleams into the pale air, and brandished by a dozen yelling savages. at a signal from an aged chief, the brush was lighted. the fire cracked and snapped; soon its snake-like wreaths curled about the pile, sending thick smoke around the screaming victims, when, suddenly, old ka-te-qua--she who had taken charge of the children--rushed from the neighboring forest. tearing through the crowd, she flew to the pile of fagots, and with vigorous strokes scattered the blazing wood in every direction. then, turning toward the astonished savages, who had retreated a few paces to escape the burning brands, she addressed them passionately in the indian tongue: "the great spirit," she cried, "scowls upon you--the very flames hiss in the wet grass. the sons of ka-te-qua are gone to the happy hunting grounds of the dead. her wigwam is dark. the young pale-faces are to her like the water-lilies of the stream. why, when she was in the forest gathering herbs for the sick of her tribe, did ye steal them from her lodge like dogs? "is the tongue of ka-te-qua forked? has she not said that no warrior need hunt the deer for the young pale-faces? with her they shall grow like hickory saplings, towering with strength. the deer shall not be more fleet than they, nor the songs of the birds more glad. the sun shall paint their white skins. the love of the red man shall enter their hearts: they shall be as the young of our tribe. unbind them! give them to ka-te-qua, or by the next moon a burning fever shall fall upon you. like panthers will you bite the dust. all the waters of the great cataract cannot quench your thirst, and your mightiest hunters will be as women." she paused. a fine-looking chieftain arose and spoke: "the sister of the great medicine-man has spoken well. she dwells alone in her wigwam her arm is strong. her eye is keen, like the hawk's. the deer fall before her, and her arrow can find the heart of the grizzly bear. her corn stands higher than the grass of the prairie. she can feed the young pale-faces. the great spirit gives them to her. let it be so." a council was held at once. this time more than half the chieftains passed the club on in silence, for ka-te-qua, as i have said, was respected among them; she had great powers of healing, and many of the indians regarded her with a superstitious reverence. the children were unbound and borne in state to the old squaw's wigwam. from that hour, though they were closely watched and guarded, their lives were safe. [footnote 1: mystery-man or indian prophet.] vii. big tom. from the conduct of the indians towards tom, it was evident that his time for torture had not yet arrived. he therefore had tact enough to remain "weak" as long as possible, tottering languidly about the grounds whenever they allowed him the liberty of exercising his limbs, and drinking the mixtures and decoctions of ka-te-qua with the patience of a martyr. in the meantime, the shrewd fellow took care to win the good-will of the tribe by taking apparent interest in their games, and showing a great amount of admiration at their feats of strength and agility. he amused them too by the display of numerous accomplishments peculiar to himself, such as whistling in close imitation of the songs of various birds, and performing feats of jugglery that he had long ago learned in his native town. he could bark like a dog and howl like a wolf; imitate the distant tramping of horses' feet, and give the sound of a whizzing arrow so perfectly that the oldest chiefs would turn their head quickly in the direction of the sound. neither at this, however, nor at any other of tom's performances, would they show the slightest change of countenance, for an indian never allows himself to exhibit feelings of surprise, considering it quite beneath the dignity of his race to do so. even when, by some dexterous trick, tom would show them two or three acorns under a leaf where their reason told them there could be none, and then as mysteriously cause the same acorns to disappear, the stony faces looking on never changed a muscle though at heart they were probably quite as astounded as the welsh monster was supposed to be when jack the giant-killer, performed such wonderful feats with hasty-pudding. by degrees, as tom deemed it prudent to appear stronger, he would dance the sailors' hornpipe for them, or sing wild, rollicksome songs, or make beautiful rustic seats and bowers for the squaws. he was a capital marksman, too, and soon won respect by showing that he could handle a musket with the best of them. the few indians who owned guns had become very expert in their use; and tom, whenever they had trials of their skill, took care to shoot just well enough to prove himself a good marksman, without provoking their anger by excelling too often. after awhile, in his desire to win their confidence, he even went so far as to signify to the indians that he would like to become one of them; that their mode of life suited him well, and he would be glad to hunt and fish with them and be a pale-face no more. alas! poor fellow, he did not know what he was saying, or how soon he would find out that even in cases of great temptation no one can tell a lie without suffering unhappy consequences. the savages took him at his word. they held a council. after it was over, while most of them were still smoking their long, richly ornamented pipes with great deliberation, two or three of the indians seized him and gravely commenced plucking out his hair by the roots.[2] soon tom twitched from head to foot, and water stood in his eyes; but the red men still kept on with their work, dipping their fingers in ashes occasionally to enable them to take a better hold. before long his head was completely bald, with the exception of one long tuft upon his crown, called the scalp-lock. this was immediately stiffened and plaited, so as to stand upright and hold a variety of ornaments, which his glum hairdresser fastened upon it. then two old indians pierced his nose and ears and hung big rings in the smarting holes. they then took off his clothing and painted his body with every variety of color. next they hung a gaily embroidered cloth about his loins, put a wampum[3] chain about his neck and fastened silver bands on his right arm. when this was done the whole party gave three shrill whoops, and men, women, and children crowded around him, making the most frantic gestures, and uttering the most horrid sounds that ever a poor fibbing white man heard. next the maidens of the tribe rushed upon him, and, hurrying him to a stream that ran near by, dragged him into the water until it reached his waist, and tried to force his head under. this of course, aroused all his spirit of resistance; but, when one of the girls, named she-de-ah (wild sage), cried into his ear. "no kill! no kill!" he concluded to submit. after this he was ducked and held under most unmercifully, until, believing by this time that "the white blood must be all washed out of him," they led him up the shore, all shivering and dripping, and presented him to their principal chief. the next performance was to dress him in an indian shirt ornamented with feathers and beads and bits of porcupine quill. they put leggins on his legs and moccasins on his feet, and, seating him upon a bear-skin, gave him flint and steel to strike a light with; then a pouch, a tomahawk, some tobacco, and a long pipe. then the chiefs seated themselves beside him, and smoked in silence. tom knew well enough that he was expected to smoke too, and filled and lit his pipe accordingly, never dreaming of the consequences. old as he was, nearly twenty, this was his "first smoke," and very soon the poor fellow found himself growing deadly sick. he could feel the cold chills creeping one after another into his very face. finally, something within him seemed to turn somersaults, when, yielding to a sudden impulse, he flung the pipe upon the ground, and rushed into the recesses of the wigwam, where he usually slept. this the indians, who attach an almost sacred importance to the pipe, took as a great affront; and only when tom afterward, by the most earnest gestures, explained to them the real cause of his conduct, did they allow their injured feelings to be pacified; though it cut him sorely to notice the expressions of contempt, and ridicule that were soon lavished upon him. whether this proof of what seemed in indian opinion a want of manliness had anything to do with their conduct or not, i cannot say, but certain it is that no further ceremonies towards making him a red-man were performed though he was allowed to wear his indian costume. neither did they allow him to hunt with them, as he had hoped. whenever they went forth to shoot the bison or deer, or to trap the beavers, or wage war with hostile tribes, they always left him with the squaws, the old men, and the warriors who remained at home to take charge of the settlement. rudolph and kitty were sorely frightened when they first saw the strange figure, "half indian, half tom," as rudolph afterward described him, stalk into ka-te-qua's wigwam. his bald head and painted body struck poor kitty with dismay. when he spoke soothingly to her, and gave her a handful of bright feathers, she ventured to approach him, though she cried pitifully all the time for tom, dear, big tom, who knew papa and mamma, and bessie and bouncer. neither kitty nor rudolph had forgotten the brave dog through all these days of absence, and they loved to hold long conversations with tom about him; though the little creatures oftener talked of their parents and bessie, as they lay at night upon their beds of dried grass. [footnote 2: see american adventure by land and sea. harper bros. 1842.] [footnote 3: _wampum_. beads made of shells, used by north american indians as money, the shells run on strings, and are wrought into belts and ornaments.] viii. bouncer's work. there was another person in the settlement besides the captives, who was not likely to forget bouncer very soon. this was an indian who, wounded and exhausted, had reached the settlement four days after the arrival of the prisoners. he had an ugly mark upon his throat, and another on his chest, and he sulked aside from the rest of his tribe as though he felt that his wounds were ignoble, and a dishonor to his indian birth. it was his blood that farmer hedden had seen on that fearful night; and when more than once the agonized father had listened to what seemed to be the tread of some skulking wolf, he had heard this very indian, who, half dead with pain and loss of blood, was dragging himself slowly through the depths of the forest. this discomfited warrior had looked upon tom and the two little pale-faces with dislike, from the hour when he first saw them as prisoners in the encampment. they were constant reminders to him of his mortifying struggle with the dog. he felt it all the more because, though his jacket and leggings were trimmed with the scalps of his enemies, he had lately been forced to receive charity from the white man's hand, this was when, starving and nearly frozen, he had fallen helpless in the forest, after an unlucky trapping excursion; a settler had found him there, given him food and drink and sent him on his way with a bountiful supply of provisions. big tom saw the dark looks of this indian, and regarded him with suspicion; but little kitty was quite unconscious of the resentful feelings of "the sick man," as she called him. in fact, as soon as she grew more familiar with the indians, she often sought him in preference to the rest, and loved to sit upon the ground beside him, and trace with her tiny fingers the patterns worked upon his leggings and moccasins. at first the grim warrior repulsed these familiarities; but when, as he began to mingle with his tribe, he heard her sweet voice calling him by name, and saw her day after day display her store of beads and feathers at his feet, his feelings gradually softened. before long he ceased to scowl upon her when she lifted her sunny face to his, and, on rare occasions, he even allowed her to count his arrows. once, when rudolph had shot a wild turkey, he rushed to ka-te-qua's wigwam with his prize, for he had learned to love the strange old squaw, though he feared her, too, sometimes. kitty clapped her hands with delight at her brother's skill, and begged him to go with her and show the dead bird to her favorite indian. "come, rudolph; come show 'nokah,'" she pleaded, pulling the young hunter by the arm. "come twick! he goin' away." rudolph suffered himself to be led. they found po-no-kah standing alone by a tree, fully equipped for the hunt. he looked at the turkey and gave a grunt, not particularly flattering to rudolph's vanity. "i've shot three!" said the boy, holding up three fingers to make his meaning clearer. "ugh!" grunted the savage again. "paleface no shoot much." "but i'm growing," persisted rudolph. "when i'm big, i'm going to shoot bears and bison. did you kill the bears to get all these claws?" he added, pointing up to po-no-kah's necklace, which was formed entirely of huge bear-claws, strung through the thickest end. "ugh," replied the indian, nodding his plumed head, "me shoot him." "and these scalps," said rudolph, shuddering as he pointed to the fringe of human hair hanging from the buckskin leggings; "did _you_ get all these?" "ugh," he answered grimly, nodding the plumes again. "you are bad, then," exclaimed rudolph, looking fearlessly into po-no-kah's eyes. "i know _you_," he added suddenly, after gazing at him intently for an instant. "father brought you into our kitchen last winter, and i ran behind the door. mother gave you meat and hot drink, and father warmed you and gave you a bag of potatoes. oh!" he continued, clasping po-no-kah's knee, "_you_ know where our home is. nearly every night i dream that mother is calling us. show me the way, please do. ka-te-qua says there are dreadful things in the forest that will eat me up, but i am not afraid. oh, do tell us the way home!" the indian gave a sharp look at the sobbing boy, and seemed in part to understand his words. stooping, he whispered in a stern tone: "no speak; no tell ka-te-qua;"--and without one glance of encouragement, he stalked away to the spot where the other indians had assembled, preparing for the hunt. the children saw him no more for weeks. rudolph remembered his parting words, and though he could not fully understand po-no-kah's motive, he faithfully obeyed his command. not even to tom did he relate what had occurred. ix. indian life. rudolph and kitty learned many things from the indians that they never would have studied in the rough school-house near their pretty home; and they soon became familiar with many singular customs that at first filled them with wonder. for instance: when they, or any of the little papooses, were naughty or disobedient, they were put under what might be called the water-cure treatment. instead of being whipped or locked up in a dark pantry--as was, i am sorry to say, the custom among some white people--they were simply "ducked" under water until they became manageable. winter or summer, it was all the same. a bad child would very soon become a wet child, if there were any water within a mile. there are bright sides, as well as dark, to the indian character; and in considering their cruelties and inhuman practices, we must remember that the white man has not always been just to him or set a good example to his uncivilized brother, or been careful not to provoke him to deeds of resentment and wrong. an indian rarely forgets a kindness, and he never tells a lie. he is heroic, and deems it beneath a man's dignity to exhibit the slightest sign of pain under any circumstances. among the sioux tribe of that time, the boys were trained from the first to bear as much hardship as possible. they had a ceremony called the straw dance, in which children were forced to maintain a stately and measured step, while bunches of loose straws tied to their naked bodies were lighted and allowed to burn slowly away. any poor little creature who flinched or "broke step" was sorely punished and held in disgrace. there were certain dances among the indians performed by the warriors, before going either to battle or to the hunt. if to battle, they spent hours, and often whole days and nights together, in the fearful war-dance, accompanied by clashing on their drumlike instruments, and whoops that rang long and loud amid the echoing hills. if to the hunt, the bear-dance or the buffalo-dance was kept up nights and days before starting, in order to propitiate the bear spirit or buffalo spirit, whichever it might be. they had a funeral dance also, which was very solemn and impressive. and if a chieftain was to be buried, either in the river, or, as among the mandans, on a rough platform erected on poles high up from the ground, the warriors danced before his wigwam, and assigned to a few of their number the duty of seeing that his widow and children, if he left any, should never be without food and shelter. kitty and rudolph often looked on with, mingled feelings of terror and delight, while some of these strange ceremonies were being enacted. it was curious to see the stalwart warriors, with bent backs and glum faces, and many a grunt or whoop, stamp through the measured dance. often kitty would clutch her brother's arm in terror, when, in strange concert, the savages would suddenly halt, and with fiendish look and stealthy gesture, seem to be listening to the approach of an enemy. sometimes, too, the women danced, but always apart from the men. even in their games the warriors and squaws never played together. among the crow indians, famous for their long black hair, it was not uncommon for a thousand young men to play in one game of ball for three or four consecutive days without interruption. as soon as one player retired, exhausted, another took his place. often hundreds of women played together, and they were generally as expert as the men in throwing and catching the ball. another strange feature among indian customs, was the importance attached to the _medicine-bag_. every warrior had one, and would no sooner hunt, or go to battle, or appear among his tribe without it, than he would neglect to wear his bow or his scalping-knife. not that the bag contained any medicine, such as we understand by the word--for it was nothing but a small piece of skin sewed like a bag, curiously ornamented, and stuffed with straw or leaves--but because he regarded it as a _charm_. with him, "medicine" meant some mysterious power that would protect and guide him, and propitiate the unseen powers in his favor. when about to obtain his medicine, the young indian went alone to some solitary river or lake in the depths of the forest, or mounted to some lonely peak. here he fasted, and remained until, sleeping, he dreamed. the first animal he dreamed about, whether it were a bear, buffalo, deer, weasel, or bird or reptile of any kind, became his "medicine" forever. he at once hunted until he found one, and obtained its skin for a bag. rudolph and kitty looked with awe upon many of the rare medicine-bags of the tribe, though they were never on any account allowed to touch them. indeed, kitty had managed to make a rough little one for rudolph, dotted with clumps of beads, and he wore it next his heart with secret pride. the little fellow had once, while tramping through the forest with katequa, seen a number of deer gathered around a spring, or salt-lick, as it is called, and had quivered with frightened delight to see the finest one fall wounded by her arrow. when the large eyes of the wounded creature had turned plaintively toward him, he had tried not to feel sorry, but his heart ached in spite of his efforts, "i shall be a mighty hunter one of these days," he said to kitty on his return; "but i won't shoot deer, for they look at you just as if they wanted to speak. i'll get bears though, lots of 'em, and buffalo; and i'll have a fine trap when i get home, and catch badgers and foxes, just as the indians do." tom and rudolph saw with indignation that, throughout the village, the labor and drudgery were forced upon the squaws, while the warriors stretched themselves lazily upon the ground, or smoked their pipes under the spreading trees. as for kitty, she was too busy watching the women cook, dig, chop, and carry, to make any moral reflections. she loved, also, to sit beside them when they prepared the skins brought in from the hunt, or while they were busy with their curious sewing, so different from that with which she had seen her mother occupied. bright-colored rags, feathers, beads, porcupine-quills, and even scraps of tin, were the ornaments upon which the squaws relied to make the toilets of their tribe "stylish" and beautiful; and kitty--tiny little woman that she was--soon grew to agree with them perfectly in matters of taste. to be sure, the indian women never did anything quite so barbarous as to put their little girls' feet into narrow shoes with high heels, nor fasten tight belts about their waists, so that the god-given machinery within could hardly work. but they did many preposterous things, for all that. they painted their bodies and tattooed their skins, by pricking figures on the flesh and rubbing in some staining juice when the blood appeared. they even pierced their noses so that bright rings could dangle from them. many, too, hung bits of metal from their ears in a similar way--but that may not strike my civilized readers as being a very barbarous custom. x. ka-te-qua's "good night." thus weeks and months passed away, not so wearily to the prisoners, as to the poor, sorrowing hearts that mourned for them at home. tom's brain was always busy in planning some mode of escape for himself and his little charges. but, as he was still closely guarded, never being left alone for an instant, night or day, and as the children slept in the wigwam of ka-te-qua, whose eyes seemed never intended to close, he concluded to wait patiently rather than to risk the lives of all three by an unsuccessful attempt. meantime, ka-te-qua's strong arms grew feeble, her arrow became less fatal in its aim, and her strange fits of moodiness filled rudolph and kitty with dread. for hours she would sit at the entrance of her wigwam, chanting mournfully in the indian tongue. at such times she would compel the children to remain within,--becoming frantic with crazy rage should they attempt to force past her into the pleasant sunshine; and they would sit together in the shadow, hoping that by some whim she would walk away, or that the long, long chant would cease. one afternoon she kept them waiting in this way for hours. the sun sank lower and lower into the distant prairie, and the crimson clouds faded to a dull gray. rudolph and kitty sat listening to the wailing tones of ka-te-qua's voice until, as the evening grew dark and chilly, they found for themselves a scanty supper of parched corn, and after whispering their simple prayer, groped their way to bed. the strange old creature ceased singing after a while, and entered the wigwam. they could distinguish her form as she slowly moved about, before throwing herself down near the entrance to indulge in her usual cat-like sleep. afraid to speak to her, for they were not quite sure in what mood she might be, they watched her movements as well as they could, and at last felt sure that she was tottering slowly toward them. kitty clasped rudolph's neck more tightly, and broke into a frightened sob. in an instant, they felt her hand steal very gently over their tumbled curls. "night! night!" she whispered softly. "good-night, ka-te-qua," they answered in a breath, for their fear was all gone now. "night, night," repeated the voice, as kindly as their own mother could have said it, and after giving each a caressing stroke, their old friend moved softly away. very early the next morning the children were awakened by a buzzing of many voices. ka-te-qua had been found lying stiff and cold at the entrance of her wigwam. not a trace of injury of any kind was upon her. the indians, crowding round, shook their heads gravely. ka-te-qua was wise, they said, but manitou had sent for her. she had gone to the happy hunting grounds of her fathers. xi. fire-water becomes master. after a long absence, the hunting party returned. as soon as po-no-kah's stalwart form appeared in sight, rudolph and kitty rushed, with a cry of joy, to meet him; but, to their great dismay, he pushed them away with a frown and a grunt that told them plainly that they were to be familiar with him no more. poor children!--ka-te-qua gone, po-no-kah changed, and tom scarcely heeding them,--they felt friendless indeed. kind words they never heard now, and kind looks rarely, except when tom threw them a hasty glance that warmed their hearts, though they scarcely knew why. they did not know how his feelings yearned towards them, nor how eagerly he would have joined in all their simple pursuits, had he dared to do so; but the poor fellow had discovered that any notice he took of the children aroused suspicion, and he therefore concluded to pursue a prudent course. in the meantime the children had one great joy. their love for each other was always the same. kitty trusted in the belief that "mammy" would send for them; but rudolph looked ever up to the great love that he knew was watching over them and the dear ones at home. "if it's _right_, kitty," he would whisper, "i _know_ we'll go home one of these days. don't be afraid. god will take care of us." "but dod took te-qua away," kitty would sometimes say. "yes, i know he did, kitty," and rudolph's eyes would look sadly up to the blue sky, "i know he did, but then i think she was tired and wanted to go." summer, autumn, and winter had passed away, and now came the season when the indians carried their largest supply of furs and skins to sell in the city far over the prairies. often, after their hunts, they had met with traders, and exchanged the skins they had taken for such articles as the white man had to give--guns, blankets, knives, powder, pipes, and fire-water;[4] but this was the grand trading excursion of the year. when the party returned, after a few weeks' absence, they brought with them among other things, a keg of whisky. after the first welcome was over, the savages held a council. it was soon evident that a fearful scene was to be enacted. the prisoners had seen something of the kind before, but never on so large a scale as this. the indians had decided to hold a revel, in which nearly all the men were to drink fire-water until they could take no more. even these savages knew the horrible consequences of parting with their wits in this manner. before the drinking commenced, they appointed a few able-bodied indians who were to remain sober and take care of the rest. they then deprived themselves of all their dangerous weapons--tomahawks, clubs, guns, arrows, and knives, and prepared for their fearful riot. the scene that followed need not be described. soon the confusion became fearful. the few sober chiefs were constantly risking their lives in their efforts to prevent mischief. squaws were screaming, and frightened children were hiding in every direction. tom, who was half forgotten in the general excitement, saw po-no-kah whisper hurriedly to one of the women. in a moment she caught rudolph and kitty by their hands and stole cautiously with them into the forest. tom's suspicions were aroused. he started up only to feel a strong arm force him back to the log upon which he had been seated. "no move!" muttered a voice, close by his ear. "soon come.--be very drunk." in a few moments, while the tumult and uproar were at their height, tom saw po-no-kah reeling toward the forest. wondering what the fellow meant to do, yet filled with a wild hope, tom watched his chance, staggered past the rioters, and managed to follow the warrior by another path, without creating any suspicion. when, at last, they met, po-no-kah had rudolph and kitty in his arms, and, staggering no more, was hurrying through the forest, armed with bow, quiver, and traveling pouch. the astonished prisoner, after taking kitty from his companion's arms, followed him in silence. not for hours did po-no-kah look back or speak, and then it was but to say a few broken words: "po-no-kah was hungry. the father of the little pale-faces fed him. po-no-kah no snake--he remember--po-no-kah take 'em home." [footnote 4: brandy, rum, and all alcoholic liquors.] xii. showing how the bag of potatoes came back again. farmer hedden was busily at work in the fields, looking ten years older than on that sunny day, nearly a year before, when he had shouted a laughing "good-bye" to tom and the little ones. bessie was trudging alone from school, wondering why the birds sang less sweetly than they did the may before, and wishing that the noble dog that bounded by her side looked a little more like the first bouncer. mrs. hedden sat with her brother in the lonely cottage, talking on the old, old theme; the memory of that terrible night had never left her heart. "no, no, robert," she said at length, in reply to some appeal from her brother, "we must not go. i know it would be better for us to sell out and go to philadelphia. but it cannot be; we must never leave this spot." "surely, betsy," urged her brother, "you cannot be so wild as to suppose--" "no!" she interrupted, "i never dare even hope for that now. i know my lost darlings are not in this world, and yet--and yet why not hope? why not think that perhaps--" a shadow fell upon the threshold. what wonder that the mother sprang forward with a cry of joy! what wonder that farmer hedden, looking from the field, came bounding toward the house! po-no-kah was there--po-no-kah and little kitty! laughing,--crying,--clasping her dear kitty frantically to her heart, then gazing at her at arms' length, mrs. hedden raised her eyes to the indian, and gasped faintly-"rudolph? the boy--is he--" she could say no more. "yes--boy all good," answered po-no-kah, eagerly, "white man say break heart see two--he here." just then farmer hedden, tom hennessy, and rudolph rushed in. oh, what a meeting that was! and bessie, too, was there before they knew it. such laughter--such tears--such shouts of rejoicing had never been known in the hedden cottage before! soon the barking of a dog was heard. rudolph sprang from his father's arms: "oh, it's bouncer!" he cried; "let me see him. here, bouncer!" bouncer indeed came leaping in at the call, but it was not _the_ bouncer, though it was a great, shaggy fellow, worthy of the name. rudolph started back; the dog, too, eyed him with a suspicious look. "that isn't bouncer! where is he, mother?" exclaimed the poor boy, looking up with a bewildered glance. po-no-kah slunk aside. "do tell me where bouncer is," he repeated, "we are all here but him. here, bouncer! bouncer!" and he ran to the door. bessie wound her arms about his neck. "rudolph, darling," she sobbed, "don't cry. bouncer was killed on _that_ day. he saved my life, rudolph--" "bouncer dead!" screamed the boy. just then the new dog, seeing bessie and her brother so close together, felt that he had a right there, too. with many a frantic leap and bound he endeavored to draw rudolph's attention, until, finally, the tearful eyes of the boy were turned upon him. then, if ever a dog tried to do his best, that fellow did. he sprang into the air, barked, tumbled, leaped, whined, wagged his tail till it almost spun, and, finally, licked rudolph in the face until the chubby cheeks shook with laughter. all this time tom's indian dress had scarcely been noticed. at last mrs. hedden, grasping both his hands, exclaimed: "why, what in the world have you been doing with yourself? i knew you, though, the moment you came in. oh, tom, how you have suffered!" tom tried to answer her; but somehow his great faithful heart was overflowing, and he could only look at her with a tearful smile. "that's nothing," he said at length. "it's all ended well, anyhow. but a fellow can't help thinking of his own folks, dead and gone, when he sees such a meeting as this." mr. hedden, who had been talking with po-no-kah, walked over to tom and placed his hand upon his shoulder. "_we_ are your folks now, my faithful fellow. god bless you! i can never repay what i owe you. remember, our home is yours from this hour. i shall take no denial." "good!" exclaimed bessie, clapping her hands; "now i shall have two brothers!" mrs. hedden, who had listened to po-no-kah's broken words, kissed and hugged tom in her motherly way. "dear me," she exclaimed, "how can we make you look like a white man again; and to think you have had chances to escape and would not leave the children," and then she hugged him again. "ugh!" grunted the indian, nodding his head and holding up three fingers--to signify that tom had had three chances. "pooh!" said the brave fellow, blushing through all the red paint, "i didn't have any at all until a month or so ago, and i'd got kind o' used to staying then." soon the red man turned to go. in vain the grateful parents tried to force their gifts upon him, and to persuade him to at least partake of some refreshment after his long journey. he pointed to his hunting-pouch and his bow, as if to say that they would furnish all the the food he required, and nodded westward to show that he must be far on his way before sundown. as tom gave him a hearty hand-shake and the rest crowded about him, all, even to little kitty, thanking him over and over again, he waved them off with dignity. "no thank," he said; "po-no-kah was cold and hungry; the father of the young pale-faces gave him food. he come tell white man indian no forget." tom expressed anxiety lest their deliverer should suffer for his act when he returned to his tribe. "po-no-kah no fraid" answered the indian grimly with almost a smile upon his face. and, nodding a farewell to little kitty, he strode majestically away. * * * * * a year later, the heddens settled on a fine farm near philadelphia. rudolph and kitty doubtless walked many a time by the old hall where our declaration of independence was signed. bessie hedden's sons when they grew up became pioneers themselves; and their names were hennessy; so you see the maiden probably, in the course of time, changed her mind about having tom for a brother. raggedy andy stories [illustration: raggedy andy on a bar] raggedy andy stories introducing the little rag brother of raggedy ann written & illustrated by johnny gruelle [illustration: raggedy andy] little simon new york london toronto sydney [illustration: to marcella's mama] [illustration: raggedy andy bowing] gainsville, florida, january 8, 1919. johnny gruelle, care of p. f. volland company. chicago, ill. dear johnny: when i saw your raggedy ann books and dolls in a store near here, i went right in and bought one of each, and when i had read your introduction to "raggedy ann" i went right up to an old trunk in my own attic and brought down the doll i am sending you with this letter. this doll belonged to my mother and she played with it when a little girl. she treasured it highly, i know, for she kept it until i came and then she gave it to me. the fun that we two have had together i cannot begin to tell you, but often, like the little boy who went out into the garden to eat worms when all the world seemed blue and clouded, this doll and i went out under the arbor and had our little cry together. i can still feel it's soft rag arms (as i used to imagine) about me, and hear the words of comfort (also imaginary) that were whispered in my ear. as you say in your raggedy ann book, "fairyland must be filled with rag dolls, soft loppy rag dolls who go through all the beautiful adventures found there, nestling in the crook of a dimpled arm." i truly believe there is such a fairyland and that rag dolls were first made there, or how else could they bring so much sunshine into a child's life? [illustration: raggedy ann bowing] all the little girls of my acquaintance have your raggedy ann book and doll, and for the happiness you have brought to them let me give to you the doll of all my dolls, the doll i loved most dearly. may it prove to you a gift from fairyland, bringing with it all the "wish come true" that you may wish and, if possible, add to the sunshine in your life. my mother called the doll raggedy andy and it was by this name that i have always known him. is it any wonder that i was surprised when i saw the title of your book? introduce raggedy andy to raggedy ann, dear johnny. let him share in the happiness of your household. sincerely yours, raggedy andy's "mama." * * * * * wilton, connecticut, january 12, 1919. dear john: your letter brings many pleasant memories to my mind and takes me back to my childhood. living next door to us, when i was about four years old, was a little girl named bessie; i cannot recall her last name. when my mother made raggedy ann for me, bessie's mother made a rag doll for her, for we two always played together; as i recall, there was no fence between our two houses. bessie's doll was made a day or so after raggedy ann, i think, though i am not quite certain which of the two dolls was made first. however, bessie's doll was given the name of raggedy andy, and one of the two dolls was named after the other, so that their names would sound alike. we children played with the two rag dolls most of the time until bessie's family moved away--when i was eight or nine years old. they had faces just alike; the mother who made the first doll probably painted both doll faces. i do not remember just how raggedy andy was dressed, but i know he often wore dresses over his boy clothes when bessie and i decided that he and raggedy ann should be sisters for the day. you will remember i told you about raggedy andy long ago, john. isn't it strange that the two old rag dolls should come together after all these years? i wish raggedy andy's "mama" had signed her name, for i should like to write to her. perhaps there may be some way of finding her out. anyway, it seems to me you have the subject for another rag doll book, for raggedy andy must have had some wonderful adventures in his long life. yours lovingly, mom. * * * * * contents how raggedy andy came the nursery dance the spinning wheel the taffy pull the rabbit chase the new tin gutter doctor raggedy andy raggedy andy's smile the wooden horse making "angels" in the snow the singing shell [illustration: raggedy ann and books] how raggedy andy came one day daddy took raggedy ann down to his office and propped her up against some books upon his desk; he wanted to have her where he could see her cheery smile all day, for, as you must surely know, smiles and happiness are truly catching. daddy wished to catch a whole lot of raggedy ann's cheeriness and happiness and put all this down on paper, so that those who did not have raggedy ann dolls might see just how happy and smiling a rag doll can be. so raggedy ann stayed at daddy's studio for three or four days. she was missed very, very much at home and marcella really longed for her, but knew that daddy was borrowing some of raggedy ann's sunshine, so she did not complain. raggedy ann did not complain either, for in addition to the sunny, happy smile she always wore (it was painted on), raggedy ann had a candy heart, and of course no one (not even a rag doll) ever complains if they have such happiness about them. one evening, just as daddy was finishing his day's work, a messenger boy came with a package; a nice, soft lumpy package. daddy opened the nice, soft lumpy package and found a letter. gran'ma had told daddy, long before this, that at the time raggedy ann was made, a neighbor lady had made a boy doll, raggedy andy, for her little girl, who always played with gran'ma. and when gran'ma told daddy this she wondered whatever had become of her little playmate and the boy doll, raggedy andy. after reading the letter, daddy opened the other package which had been inside the nice, soft, lumpy package and found--raggedy andy. raggedy andy had been carefully folded up. his soft, loppy arms were folded up in front of him and his soft, loppy legs were folded over his soft, loppy arms, and they were held this way by a rubber band. raggedy andy must have wondered why he was being "done up" this way, but it could not have caused him any worry, for in between where his feet came over his face daddy saw his cheery smile. after slipping off the rubber band, daddy smoothed out the wrinkles in raggedy andy's arms and legs. then daddy propped raggedy ann and raggedy andy up against books on his desk, so that they sat facing each other; raggedy ann's shoe button eyes looking straight into the shoe button eyes of raggedy andy. they could not speak--not right out before a real person--so they just sat there and smiled at each other. daddy could not help reaching out his hands and feeling their throats. yes! there was a lump in raggedy ann's throat, and there was a lump in raggedy andy's throat. a cotton lump, to be sure, but a lump nevertheless. "so, raggedy ann and raggedy andy, that is why you cannot talk, is it?" said daddy. "i will go away and let you have your visit to yourselves, although it is good to sit and share your happiness by watching you." daddy then took the rubber band and placed it around raggedy ann's right hand, and around raggedy andy's right hand, so that when he had it fixed properly they sat and held each other's hands. daddy knew they would wish to tell each other all the wonderful things that had happened to them since they had parted more than fifty years before. so, locking his studio door, daddy left the two old rag dolls looking into each other's eyes. the next morning, when daddy unlocked his door and looked at his desk, he saw that raggedy andy had fallen over so that he lay with his head in the bend of raggedy ann's arm. [illustration: then daddy propped raggedy ann and raggedy andy up] [illustration: side by side] [illustration: dolls in a row] the nursery dance when raggedy andy was first brought to the nursery he was very quiet. raggedy andy did not speak all day, but he smiled pleasantly to all the other dolls. there was raggedy ann, the french doll, henny, the little dutch doll, uncle clem, and a few others. some of the dolls were without arms and legs. one had a cracked head. she was a nice doll, though, and the others all liked her very much. all of them had cried the night susan (that was her name) fell off the toy box and cracked her china head. raggedy andy did not speak all day. but there was really nothing strange about this fact, after all. none of the other dolls spoke all day, either. marcella had played in the nursery all day and of course they did not speak in front of her. marcella thought they did, though, and often had them saying things which they really were not even thinking of. for instance, when marcella served water with sugar in it and little oyster crackers for "tea," raggedy andy was thinking of raggedy ann, and the french doll was thinking of one time when fido was lost. marcella took the french doll's hand, and passed a cup of "tea" to raggedy andy, and said, "mr. raggedy andy, will you have another cup of tea?" as if the french doll was talking. and then marcella answered for raggedy andy, "oh, yes, thank you! it is so delicious!" neither the french doll nor raggedy andy knew what was going on, for they were thinking real hard to themselves. nor did they drink the tea when it was poured for them. marcella drank it instead. perhaps this was just as well, for, most of the dolls were moist inside from the "tea" of the day before. marcella did not always drink all of the tea, often she poured a little down their mouths. sugar and water, if taken in small quantities, would not give the dolls colic, marcella would tell them, but she did not know that it made their cotton, or sawdust insides, quite sticky. quite often, too, marcella forgot to wash their faces after a "tea," and fido would do it for them when he came into the nursery and found the dolls with sweets upon their faces. really, fido was quite a help in this way, but he often missed the corners of their eyes and the backs of their necks where the "tea" would run and get sticky. but he did his best and saved his little mistress a lot of work. no, raggedy andy did not speak; he merely thought a great deal. one can, you know, when one has been a rag doll as long as raggedy andy had. years and years and years and years! even raggedy ann, with all her wisdom, did not really know how long raggedy andy and she had been rag dolls. if raggedy ann had a pencil in her rag hand and marcella guided it for her, raggedy ann could count up to ten--sometimes. but why should one worry one's rag head about one's age when all one's life has been one happy experience after another, with each day filled with love and sunshine? [illustration: raggedy andy in a chair] raggedy andy did not know his age, but he remembered many things that had happened years and years and years ago, when he and raggedy ann were quite young. it was of these pleasant times raggedy andy was thinking all day, and this was the reason he did not notice that marcella was speaking for him. raggedy andy could patiently wait until marcella put all the dollies to bed and left them for the night, alone in the nursery. the day might have passed very slowly had it not been for the happy memories which filled raggedy andy's cotton-stuffed head. but he did not even fidget. of course, he fell out of his chair once, and his shoe button eyes went "click!" against the floor, but it wasn't his fault. raggedy andy was so loppy he could hardly be placed in a chair so that he would stay, and marcella jiggled the table. marcella cried for raggedy andy, "awaa! awaa!" and picked him up and snuggled him and scolded uncle clem for jiggling the table. through all this raggedy andy kept right on thinking his pleasant thoughts, and really did not know he had fallen from the chair. you see how easy it is to pass over the little bumps of life if we are happy inside. and so raggedy andy was quiet all day, and so the day finally passed. raggedy andy was given one of uncle clem's clean white nighties and shared uncle clem's bed. marcella kissed them all good night and left them to sleep until morning. but as soon as she had left the room all the dolls raised up in their beds. when their little mistress' footsteps passed out of hearing, all the dollies jumped out of their beds and gathered around raggedy andy. raggedy ann introduced them one by one and raggedy andy shook hands with each. [illustration: raggedy andy on his face] [illustration: shaking hands] "i am very happy to know you all!" he said, in a voice as kindly as raggedy ann's, "and i hope we will all like each other as much as raggedy ann and i have always liked each other!" "oh, indeed we shall!" the dollies all answered. "we love raggedy ann because she is so kindly and happy, and we know we shall like you too, for you talk like raggedy ann and have the same cheery smile!" "now that we know each other so well, what do you say to a game, uncle clem?" raggedy andy cried, as he caught uncle clem and danced about the floor. henny, the dutch doll, dragged the little square music box out into the center of the room and wound it up. then all, catching hands, danced in a circle around it, laughing and shouting in their tiny doll voices. "that was lots of fun!" raggedy andy said, when the music stopped and all the dolls had taken seats upon the floor facing him. "you know i have been shut up in a trunk up in an attic for years and years and years." "wasn't it very lonesome in the trunk all that time?" susan asked in her queer little cracked voice. you see, her head had been cracked. "oh, not at all," raggedy andy replied, "for there was always a nest of mice down in the corner of the trunk. cute little mama and daddy mice, and lots of little teeny weeny baby mice. and when the mama and daddy mice were away, i used to cuddle the tiny little baby mice!" "no wonder you were never lonesome!" said uncle clem, who was very kind and loved everybody and everything. "no, i was never lonesome in the old trunk in the attic, but it is far more pleasant to be out again and living here with all you nice friends!" said raggedy andy. and all the dolls thought so too, for already they loved raggedy andy's happy smile and knew he would prove to be as kindly and lovable as raggedy ann. [illustration: raggedy andy and a mouse] [illustration: raggedy andy in bed] [illustration: raggedy andy throws a pillow] the spinning wheel one night, after all the household had settled down to sleep, raggedy andy sat up in bed and tickled uncle clem. uncle clem twisted and wiggled in his sleep until finally he could stand it no longer and awakened. "i dreamed that some one told me the funniest story!" said uncle clem; "but i cannot remember what it was!" "i was tickling you!" laughed raggedy andy. when the other dolls in the nursery heard raggedy andy and uncle clem talking, they too sat up in their beds. "we've been so quiet all day," said raggedy andy. "let's have a good romp!" this suggestion suited all the dolls, so they jumped out of their beds and ran over towards raggedy andy's and uncle clem's little bed. raggedy andy, always in for fun, threw his pillow at henny, the dutch doll. henny did not see the pillow coming towards him so he was knocked head over heels. henny always said "mama" when he was tilted backward or forward, and when the pillow rolled him over and over, he cried, "mama, mama, mama!" it was not because it hurt him, for you know santa claus always sees to it that each doll he makes in his great workshop is covered with a very magical wish, and this wish always keeps them from getting hurt. henny could talk just as well as any of the other dolls when he was standing up, sitting, or lying down, but if he was being tipped forward and backward, all he could say was, "mama." this amused henny as much as it did the other dolls, so when he jumped to his feet he laughed and threw the pillow back at raggedy andy. raggedy andy tried to jump to one side, but forgot that he was on the bed, and he and uncle clem went tumbling to the floor. then all the dolls ran to their beds and brought their pillows and had the jolliest pillow fight imaginable. the excitement ran so high and the pillows flew so fast, the floor of the nursery was soon covered with feathers. it was only when all the dolls had stopped to rest and put the feathers back into the pillow cases that raggedy andy discovered he had lost one of his arms in the scuffle. the dolls were worried over this and asked, "what will marcella say when she sees that raggedy andy has lost an arm?" "we can push it up his sleeve!" said uncle clem. "then when raggedy andy is taken out of bed in the morning, marcella will find his arm is loose!" "it has been hanging by one or two threads for a day or more!" said raggedy andy. "i noticed the other day that sometimes my thumb was turned clear around to the back, and i knew then that the arm was hanging by one or two threads and the threads were twisted." uncle clem pushed raggedy andy's arm up through his sleeve, but every time raggedy andy jumped about, he lost his arm again. "this will never do!" said raggedy ann. "raggedy andy is lopsided with only one arm and he cannot join in our games as well as if he had two arms!" [illustration: pillow fight] "oh, i don't mind that!" laughed raggedy andy. "marcella will sew it on in the morning and i will be all right, i'm sure!" "perhaps raggedy ann can sew it on now!" suggested uncle clem. "yes, raggedy ann can sew it on!" all the dolls cried. "she can play peter, peter, pumpkin eater on the toy piano and she can sew!" "i will gladly try," said raggedy ann, "but there are no needles or thread in the nursery, and i have to have a thimble so the needle can be pressed through raggedy andy's cloth!" "marcella always gets a needle from mama!" said the french doll. "i know," said raggedy ann, "but we cannot waken mama to ask her!" the dolls all laughed at this, for they knew very well that even had mama been awake, they would not have asked her for needle and thread, because they did not wish her to know they could act and talk just like real people. "perhaps we can get the things out of the machine drawer!" henny suggested. "yes," cried susan, "let's all go get the things out of the machine drawer! come on, everybody!" and susan, although she had only a cracked head, ran out the nursery door followed by all the rest of the dolls. even the tiny little penny dolls clicked their china heels upon the floor as they followed the rest, and raggedy andy, carrying his loose arm, thumped along in the rear. raggedy andy had not lived in the house as long as the others; so he did not know the way to the room in which the machine stood. after much climbing and pulling, the needle and thread and thimble were taken from the drawer, and all raced back again to the nursery. uncle clem took off raggedy andy's waist, and the other dolls all sat around watching while raggedy ann sewed the arm on again. raggedy ann had only taken two stitches when she began laughing so hard she had to quit. of course when raggedy ann laughed, all the other dolls laughed too, for laughter, like yawning, is very catching. "i was just thinking!" said raggedy ann. "remember, 'way, 'way back, a long, long time ago, i sewed this arm on once before?" she asked raggedy andy. "i do remember, now that you mention it," said raggedy andy, "but i can not remember how the arm came off!" "tell us about it!" all the dolls cried. "let's see!" raggedy ann began. "your mistress left you over at our house one night, and after everyone had gone to bed, we went up into the attic!" "oh, yes! i do remember now!" raggedy andy laughed. "we played with the large whirligig!" "yes," raggedy ann said. "the large spinning wheel. we held on to the wheel and went round and round! and when we were having the most fun, your feet got fastened between the wheel and the rod which held the wheel in position and there you hung, head down!" "i remember, you were working the pedal and i was sailing around very fast," said raggedy andy, "and all of a sudden the wheel stopped!" "we would have laughed at the time," raggedy ann explained to the other dolls, "but you see it was quite serious." "my mistress had put us both to bed for the night, and if she had discovered us 'way up in the attic, she would have wondered how in the world we got there! so there was nothing to do but get raggedy andy out of the tangle!" "but you pulled me out all right!" raggedy andy laughed. "yes, i pulled and i pulled until i pulled one of raggedy andy's arms off," raggedy ann said. "and then i pulled and pulled until finally his feet came out of the wheel and we both tumbled to the floor!" "then we ran downstairs as fast as we could and climbed into bed, didn't we!" raggedy andy laughed. [illustration: raggedy ann sewing] "yes, we did!" raggedy ann replied. "and when we jumped into bed, we remembered that we had left raggedy andy's arm lying up on the attic floor, so we had to run back up there and get it! remember, raggedy andy?" "yes! wasn't it lots of fun?" "indeed it was!" raggedy ann agreed. "raggedy andy wanted to let the arm remain off until the next morning, but i decided it would be better to have it sewed on, just as it had been when mistress put us to bed. so, just like tonight, we went to the pincushion and found a needle and thread and i sewed it on for him!" "there!" raggedy ann said, as she wound the thread around her hand and pulled, so that the thread broke near raggedy andy's shoulder. "it's sewed on again, good as new!" "thank you, raggedy ann!" said raggedy andy, as he threw the arm about raggedy ann's neck and gave her a hug. "now we can have another game!" uncle clem cried as he helped raggedy andy into his waist and buttoned it for him. just then the little cuckoo clock on the nursery wall went, "whirrr!" the little door opened, and the little bird put out his head and cried, "cuckoo! cuckoo! cuckoo! cuckoo!" "no more games!" raggedy ann said. "we must be very quiet from now on. the folks will be getting up soon!" "last one in bed is a monkey!" cried raggedy andy. there was a wild scramble as the dolls rushed for their beds, and susan, having to be careful of her cracked head, was the monkey. so raggedy andy, seeing that susan was slow about getting into her bed, jumped out and helped her. then, climbing into the little bed which uncle clem shared with him, he pulled the covers up to his eyes and, after pretending to snore a couple of times, he lay very quiet, thinking of the kindness of his doll friends about him, until marcella came and took him down to breakfast. and all the other dolls smiled at him as he left the room, for they were very happy to know that their little mistress loved him as much as they did. [illustration: watching the cuckoo clock] [illustration: friends] [illustration: raggedy andy in the sugar] the taffy pull "i know how we can have a whole lot of fun!" raggedy andy said to the other dolls. "we'll have a taffy pull!" "do you mean crack the whip, raggedy andy?" asked the french doll. "he means a tug of war, don't you, raggedy andy?" asked henny. "no," raggedy andy replied, "i mean a taffy pull!" "if it's lots of fun, then show us how to play the game!" uncle clem said. "we like to have fun, don't we?" and uncle clem turned to all the other dolls as he asked the question. "it really is not a game," raggedy andy explained. "you see, it is only a taffy pull. "we take sugar and water and butter and a little vinegar and put it all on the stove to cook. when it has cooked until it strings 'way out when you dip some up in a spoon, or gets hard when you drop some of it in a cup of water, then it is candy. "then it must be placed upon buttered plates until it has cooled a little, and then each one takes some of the candy and pulls and pulls until it gets real white. then it is called 'taffy'." "that will be loads of fun!" "show us how to begin!" "let's have a taffy pull!" "come on, everybody!" the dolls cried. "just one moment!" raggedy ann said. she had remained quiet before, for she had been thinking very hard, so hard, in fact, that two stitches had burst in the back of her rag head. the dolls, in their eagerness to have the taffy pull, were dancing about raggedy andy, but when raggedy ann spoke, in her soft cottony voice, they all quieted down and waited for her to speak again. "i was just thinking," raggedy ann said, "that it would be very nice to have the taffy pull, but suppose some of the folks smell the candy while it is cooking." "there is no one at home!" raggedy andy said. "i thought of that, raggedy ann. they have all gone over to cousin jenny's house and will not be back until day after tomorrow. i heard mama tell marcella." "if that is the case, we can have the taffy pull and all the fun that goes with it!" raggedy ann cried, as she started for the nursery door. after her ran all the dollies, their little feet pitter-patting across the floor and down the hall. when they came to the stairway raggedy ann, raggedy andy, uncle clem and henny threw themselves down the stairs, turning over and over as they fell. the other dolls, having china heads, had to be much more careful; so they slid down the banisters, or jumped from one step to another. raggedy ann, raggedy andy, uncle clem and henny piled in a heap at the bottom of the steps, and by the time they had untangled themselves and helped each other up, the other dolls were down the stairs. to the kitchen they all raced. there they found the fire in the stove still burning. raggedy andy brought a small stew kettle, while the others brought the sugar and water and a large spoon. they could not find the vinegar and decided not to use it, anyway. [illustration: they threw themselves down the stairs] raggedy andy stood upon the stove and watched the candy, dipping into it every once in a while to see if it had cooked long enough, and stirring it with the large spoon. at last the candy began to string out from the spoon when it was held above the stew kettle, and after trying a few drops in a cup of cold water, raggedy andy pronounced it "done." uncle clem pulled out a large platter from the pantry, and raggedy ann dipped her rag hand into the butter jar and buttered the platter. the candy, when it was poured into the platter, was a lovely golden color and smelled delicious to the dolls. henny could not wait until it cooled; so he put one of his chamois skin hands into the hot candy. of course it did not burn henny, but when he pulled his hand out again, it was covered with a great ball of candy, which strung out all over the kitchen floor and got upon his clothes. then too, the candy cooled quickly, and in a very short time henny's hand was encased in a hard ball of candy. henny couldn't wiggle any of his fingers on that hand and he was sorry he had been so hasty. while waiting for the candy to cool, raggedy andy said, "we must rub butter upon our hands before we pull the candy, or else it will stick to our hands as it has done to henny's hands and have to wear off!" "will this hard ball of candy have to wear off of my hand?" henny asked. "it is so hard, i cannot wiggle any of my fingers!" "it will either have to wear off, or you will have to soak your hand in water for a long time, until the candy on it melts!" said raggedy andy. "dear me!" said henny. uncle clem brought the poker then and, asking henny to put his hand upon the stove leg, he gave the hard candy a few sharp taps with the poker and chipped the candy from henny's hand. "thank you, uncle clem!" henny said, as he wiggled his fingers. "that feels much better!" raggedy andy told all the dolls to rub butter upon their hands. "the candy is getting cool enough to pull!" he said. then, when all the dolls had their hands nice and buttery, raggedy andy cut them each a nice piece of candy and showed them how to pull it. "take it in one hand this way," he said, "and pull it with the other hand, like this!" when all the dolls were supplied with candy they sat about and pulled it, watching it grow whiter and more silvery the longer they pulled. then, when the taffy was real white, it began to grow harder and harder, so the smaller dolls could scarcely pull it any more. when this happened, raggedy andy, raggedy ann, uncle clem and henny, who were larger, took the little dolls' candy and mixed it with what they had been pulling until all the taffy was snow white. [illustration: the taffy pull] then raggedy andy pulled it out into a long rope and held it while uncle clem hit the ends a sharp tap with the edge of the spoon. this snipped the taffy into small pieces, just as easily as you might break icicles with a few sharp taps of a stick. the small pieces of white taffy were placed upon the buttered platter again and the dolls all danced about it, singing and laughing, for this had been the most fun they had had for a long, long time. "but what shall we do with it?" raggedy ann asked. "yes, what shall we do with it!" uncle clem said. "we can't let it remain in the platter here upon the kitchen floor! we must hide it, or do something with it!" "while we are trying to think of a way to dispose of it, let us be washing the stew kettle and the spoon!" said practical raggedy ann. "that is a very happy thought, raggedy ann!" said raggedy andy. "for it will clean the butter and candy from our hands while we are doing it!" so the stew kettle was dragged to the sink and filled with water, the dolls all taking turns scraping the candy from the sides of the kettle, and scrubbing the inside with a cloth. when the kettle was nice and clean and had been wiped dry, raggedy andy found a roll of waxed paper in the pantry upon one of the shelves. "we'll wrap each piece of taffy in a nice little piece of paper," he said, "then we'll find a nice paper bag, and put all the pieces inside the bag, and throw it from the upstairs window when someone passes the house so that someone may have the candy!" all the dolls gathered about the platter on the floor, and while raggedy andy cut the paper into neat squares, the dolls wrapped the taffy in the papers. then the taffy was put into a large bag, and with much pulling and tugging it was finally dragged up into the nursery, where a window faced out toward the street. then, just as a little boy and a little girl, who looked as though they did not ever have much candy, passed the house, the dolls all gave a push and sent the bag tumbling to the sidewalk. the two children laughed and shouted, "thank you," when they saw that the bag contained candy, and the dolls, peeping from behind the lace curtains, watched the two happy faced children eating the taffy as they skipped down the street. when the children had passed out of sight, the dolls climbed down from the window. "that was lots of fun!" said the french doll, as she smoothed her skirts and sat down beside raggedy andy. "i believe raggedy andy must have a candy heart too, like raggedy ann!" said uncle clem. "no!" raggedy andy answered, "i'm just stuffed with white cotton and i have no candy heart, but some day perhaps i shall have!" "a candy heart is very nice!" raggedy ann said. (you know, she had one.) "but one can be just as nice and happy and full of sunshine without a candy heart." "i almost forgot to tell you," said raggedy andy, "that when pieces of taffy are wrapped in little pieces of paper, just as we wrapped them, they are called 'kisses'." [illustration: all sitting together] [illustration: fido in a basket] [illustration: raggedy andy and fido] the rabbit chase "well, what shall we play tonight?" asked henny, the dutch doll, when the house was quiet and the dolls all knew that no one else was awake. raggedy andy was just about to suggest a good game, when fido, who sometimes slept in a basket in the nursery, growled. all the dollies looked in his direction. fido was standing up with his ears sticking as straight in the air as loppy silken puppy dog ears can stick up. "he must have been dreaming!" said raggedy andy. "no, i wasn't dreaming!" fido answered. "i heard something go, 'scratch! scratch!' as plain as i hear you!" "where did the sound come from, fido?" raggedy andy asked when he saw that fido really was wide awake. "from outside somewhere!" fido answered. "and if i could get out without disturbing all the folks, i'd run out and see what it might be! perhaps i had better bark!" "please do not bark!" raggedy andy cried as he put his rag arm around fido's nose. "you will awaken everybody in the house. we can open a door or a window for you and let you out, if you must go!" "i wish you would. listen! there it is again: 'scratch! scratch!' what can it be?" "you may soon see!" said raggedy andy. "we'll let you out, but please don't sit at the door and bark and bark to get back in again, as you usually do, for we are going to play a good game and we may not hear you!" "you can sleep out in the shed after you have found out what it is," said raggedy andy. as soon as the dolls opened the door for fido, he went running across the lawn, barking in a loud shrill voice. he ran down behind the shed and through the garden, and then back towards the house again. raggedy andy and uncle clem stood looking out of the door, the rest of the dolls peeping over their shoulders, so when something came jumping through the door, it hit uncle clem and raggedy andy and sent them flying against the other dolls behind them. all the dolls went down in a wiggling heap on the floor. it was surprising that the noise and confusion did not waken daddy and the rest of the folks, for just as the dolls were untangling themselves from each other and getting upon their feet, fido came jumping through the door and sent the dolls tumbling again. fido quit barking when he came through the door. "which way did he go?" he asked, when he could get his breath. "what was it?" raggedy andy asked in return. "it was a rabbit!" fido cried. "he ran right in here, for i could smell his tracks!" "we could feel him!" raggedy andy laughed. "i could not tell you which way he went!" uncle clem said, "except i feel sure he came through the door and into the house!" none of the dolls knew into which room the rabbit had run. finally, after much sniffing, fido traced the rabbit to the nursery, where, when the dolls followed, they saw the rabbit crouching behind the rocking horse. [illustration: looking out of the door] [illustration: raggedy andy and the rabbit] fido whined and cried because he could not get to the rabbit and bite him. "you should be ashamed of yourself, fido!" cried raggedy ann. "just see how the poor bunny is trembling!" "he should not come scratching around our house if he doesn't care to be chased!" said fido. "why don't you stay out in the woods and fields where you really belong?" raggedy andy asked the rabbit. "i came to leave some easter eggs!" the bunny answered in a queer little quavery voice. "an easter bunny!" all the dolls cried, jumping about and clapping their hands. "an easter bunny!" "well!" was all fido could say, as he sat down and began wagging his tail. "you may come out from behind the rocking horse now, easter bunny!" said raggedy andy. "fido will not hurt you, now that he knows, will you, fido?" "indeed i won't!" fido replied. "i'm sorry that i chased you! and i remember now, i had to jump over a basket out by the shed! was that yours?" "yes, it was full of easter eggs and colored grasses for the little girl who lives here!" the bunny said. when the easter bunny found out that fido and the dolls were his friends, he came out from behind the rocking horse and hopped across the floor to the door. "i must go see if any of the eggs are broken, for if they are, i will have to run home and color some more! i was just about to make a nice nest and put the eggs in it when fido came bouncing out at me!" and with a squeeky little laugh the easter bunny, followed by fido and all the dolls, hopped across the lawn towards the shed. there they found the basket. four of the lovely colored easter eggs were broken. "i will run home and color four more. it will only take a few minutes, so when i return and scratch again to make a nest, please do not bark at me!" said the easter bunny. [illustration: the easter bunny] "i won't! i promise!" fido laughed. "may we go with you and watch you color the easter eggs?" raggedy andy begged. "indeed you may!" the easter bunny answered. "can you run fast?" then down through the garden and out through a crack in the fence the easter bunny hopped, with a long string of dolls trailing behind. when they came to the easter bunny's home, they found mama easter bunny and a lot of little teeny weeny bunnies who would some day grow up to be big easter bunnies like their mama and daddy bunny. the easter bunny told them of his adventure with fido, and all joined in his laughter when they found it had turned out well at the end. the easter bunny put four eggs on to boil and while these were boiling he mixed up a lot of pretty colors. when the eggs were boiled, he dipped the four eggs into the pretty colored dye and then painted lovely flowers on them. when the easter bunny had finished painting the eggs he put them in his basket and, with all the dolls running along beside him, they returned to the house. "why not make the nest right in the nursery?" raggedy andy asked. "that would be just the thing! then the little girl would wonder and wonder how i could ever get into the nursery without awakening the rest of the folks, for she will never suspect that you dolls and fido let me in!" so with raggedy andy leading the way, they ran up to the nursery and there, 'way back in a corner, they watched the easter bunny make a lovely nest and put the easter eggs in it. and in the morning when marcella came in to see the dolls you can imagine her surprise when she found the pretty gift of the easter bunny. "how in the world did the bunny get inside the house and into this room without awakening fido?" she laughed. and fido, pretending to be asleep, slowly opened one eye and winked over the edge of his basket at raggedy andy. and raggedy andy smiled back at fido, but never said a word. [illustration: how did the bunny get into this room?] [illustration: looking out the window] [illustration: raggedy andy under the quilt] the new tin gutter all day saturday the men had worked out upon the eaves of the house and the dolls facing the window could see them. the men made quite a lot of noise with their hammers, for they were putting new gutters around the eaves, and pounding upon tin makes a great deal of noise. marcella had not played with the dolls all that day, for she had gone visiting; so when the men hammered and made a lot of noise, the dolls could talk to each other without fear of anyone hearing or knowing they were really talking to each other. "what are they doing now?" raggedy andy asked. he was lying with his head beneath a little bed quilt, just as marcella had dropped him when she left the nursery; so he could not see what was going on. "we can only see the men's legs as they pass the window," answered uncle clem. "but they are putting new shingles or something on the roof!" after the men had left their work and gone home to supper and the house was quiet, raggedy andy cautiously moved his head out from under the little bed quilt and, seeing that the coast was clear, sat up. this was a signal for all the dolls to sit up and smooth out the wrinkles in their clothes. [illustration: lifting the penny dolls] the nursery window was open; so raggedy andy lifted the penny dolls to the sill and climbed up beside them. leaning out, he could look along the new shiny tin gutter the men had put in place. "here's a grand place to have a lovely slide!" he said as he gave one of the penny dolls a scoot down the shiny tin gutter. "whee! see her go!" raggedy andy cried. all the other dolls climbed upon the window sill beside him. "scoot me too!" cried the other little penny doll in her squeeky little voice, and raggedy andy took her in his rag hand and gave her a great swing which sent her scooting down the shiny tin gutter, "kerswish!" then raggedy andy climbed into the gutter himself and, taking a few steps, spread out his feet and went scooting down the shiny tin. the other dolls followed his example and scooted along behind him. when raggedy andy came to the place where he expected to find the penny dolls lying, they were nowhere about. "perhaps you scooted them farther than you thought!" uncle clem said. "perhaps i did!" raggedy andy said, "we will look around the bend in the eave!" "oh dear!" he exclaimed when he had peeped around the corner of the roof, "the gutter ends here and there is nothing but a hole!" "they must have scooted right into the hole," henny, the dutch doll said. raggedy andy lay flat upon the shiny tin and looked down into the hole. "are you down there, penny dolls?" he called. there was no answer. "i hope their heads were not broken!" raggedy ann said. [illustration: in the gutter] "i'm so sorry i scooted them!" raggedy andy cried, as he brushed his hand over his shoe button eyes. "maybe if you hold to my feet, i can reach down the hole and find them and pull them up again!" he added. uncle clem and henny each caught hold of a foot of raggedy andy and let him slide down into the hole. it was a rather tight fit, but raggedy andy wiggled and twisted until all the dolls could see of him were his two feet. "i can't find them!" he said in muffled tones. "let me down farther and i think i'll be able to reach them!" now henny and uncle clem thought that raggedy andy meant for them to let go of his feet and this they did. raggedy andy kept wiggling and twisting until he came to a bend in the pipe and could go no farther. "i can't find them!" he cried. "they have gone farther down the pipe! now you can pull me up!" "we can't reach you, raggedy andy!" uncle clem called down the pipe. "try to wiggle back up a piece and we will catch your feet and pull you up!" raggedy andy tried to wiggle backward up the pipe, but his clothes caught upon a little piece of tin which stuck out from the inside of the pipe and there he stayed. he could neither go down nor come back up. "what shall we do?" uncle clem cried, "the folks will never find him down there, for we can not tell them where he is, and they will never guess it!" the dolls were all very sad. they stayed out upon the shiny new tin gutter until it began raining and hoped and hoped that raggedy andy could get back up to them. then they went inside the nursery and sat looking out the window until it was time for the folks to get up and the house to be astir. then they went back to the position each had been in, when marcella had left them. and although they were very quiet, each one was so sorry to lose raggedy andy, and each felt that he would never be found again. [illustration: down the spout] "the rain must have soaked his cotton through and through!" sighed raggedy ann. "for all the water from the house runs down the shiny tin gutters and down the pipe into a rain barrel at the bottom!" then raggedy ann remembered that there was an opening at the bottom of the pipe. "tomorrow night if we have a chance, we dolls must take a stick and see if we can reach raggedy andy from the bottom of the pipe and pull him down to us!" she thought. marcella came up to the nursery and played all day, watching the rain patter upon the new tin gutter. she wondered where raggedy andy was, although she did not get worried about him until she had asked mama where he might be. "he must be just where you left him!" mama said. "i cannot remember where i left him!" marcella said. "i thought he was with all the other dolls in the nursery, though!" all day sunday it rained and all of sunday night, and monday morning when daddy started to work it was still raining. as daddy walked out of the front gate, he turned to wave good-bye to mama and marcella and then he saw something. daddy came right back into the house and called up the men who had put in the new shiny tin gutters. "the drain pipe is plugged up. some of you must have left shavings or something in the eaves, and it has washed down into the pipe, so that the water pours over the gutter in sheets!" "we will send a man right up to fix it!" the men said. so along about ten o'clock that morning one of the men came to fix the pipe. but although he punched a long pole down the pipe, and punched and punched, he could not dislodge whatever it was which plugged the pipe and kept the water from running through it. [illustration: raggedy ann and the dolls] [illustration: the man finds raggedy andy] then the man measured with his stick, so that he knew just where the place was, and with a pair of tin shears he cut a section from the pipe and found raggedy andy. raggedy andy was punched quite out of shape and all jammed together, but when the man straightened out the funny little figure, raggedy andy looked up at him with his customary happy smile. the man laughed and carried little water-soaked raggedy andy into the house. "i guess your little girl must have dropped this rag doll down into the drain pipe!" the man said to mama. "i'm so glad you found him!" mama said to the man. "we have hunted all over the house for him! marcella could not remember where she put him; so when i get him nice and dry, i'll hide him in a nice easy place for her to find, and she will not know he has been out in the rain all night!" so mama put raggedy andy behind the radiator and there he sat all afternoon, steaming and drying out. and as he sat there he smiled and smiled, even though there was no one to see him. he felt very happy within and he liked to smile, anyway, because his smile was painted on. and another reason raggedy andy smiled was because he was not lonesome. inside his waist were the two little penny dolls. the man had punched raggedy andy farther down into the pipe, and he had been able to reach the two little dolls and tuck them into a safe place. "won't they all be surprised to see us back again!" raggedy andy whispered as he patted the two little penny dolls with his soft rag hands. and the two little penny dolls nestled against raggedy andy's soft cotton stuffed body, and thought how nice it was to have such a happy, sunny friend. [illustration: raggedy andy sitting] [illustration: medicine] [illustration: four dolls] doctor raggedy andy raggedy andy, raggedy ann, uncle clem and henny were not given medicine. because, you see, they had no mouths. that is, mouths through which medicine could be poured. their mouths were either painted on, or were sewed on with yarn. sometimes the medicine spoon would be touched to their faces but none of the liquid be given them. except accidentally. but the french doll had a lovely mouth for taking medicine; it was open and showed her teeth in a dimpling smile. she also had soft brown eyes which opened and closed when she was tilted backward or forward. the medicine which was given the dolls had great curing properties. it would cure the most stubborn case of croup, measles, whooping cough or any other ailment the dolls had wished upon them by their little mistress. some days all the dolls would be put to bed with "measles" but in the course of half an hour they would have every other ailment in the doctor book. the dolls enjoyed it very much, for, you see, marcella always tried the medicine first to see if it was strong enough before she gave any to the dolls. [illustration: bandaged up] so the dolls really did not get as much of the medicine as their little mistress. the wonderful remedy was made from a very old recipe handed down from ancient times. this recipe is guaranteed to cure every ill a doll may have. the medicine was made from brown sugar and water. perhaps you may have used it for your dollies. the medicine was also used as "tea" and "soda water," except when the dolls were supposed to be ill. having nothing but painted or yarn mouths, the ailments of raggedy andy, raggedy ann, uncle clem and henny, the dutch doll, mostly consisted of sprained wrists, arms and legs, or perhaps a headache and a toothache. none of them knew they had the trouble until marcella had wrapped up the "injured" rag arm, leg or head, and had explained in detail just what was the matter. raggedy andy, raggedy ann, uncle clem, or henny were just as happy with their heads tied up for the toothache as they were without their heads tied up. not having teeth, naturally they could not have the toothache, and if they could furnish amusement for marcella by having her pretend they had the toothache, then that made them very happy. so this day, the french doll was quite ill. she started out with the "croup," and went through the "measles," "whooping cough," and "yellow fever" in an hour. the attack came on quite suddenly. the french doll was sitting quietly in one of the little red chairs, smiling the prettiest of dimpling smiles at raggedy andy, and thinking of the romp the dolls would have that night after the house grew quiet, when marcella discovered that the french doll had the "croup" and put her to bed. the french doll closed her eyes when put to bed, but the rest of her face did not change expression. she still wore her happy smile. [illustration: marcella caring for the sick] marcella mixed the medicine very "strong" and poured it into the french doll's open mouth. she was given a "dose" every minute or so. it was during the "yellow fever" stage that marcella was called to supper and left the dolls in the nursery alone. marcella did not play with them again that evening; so the dolls all remained in the same position until marcella and the rest of the folks went to bed. then raggedy andy jumped from his chair and wound up the little music box. "let's start with a lively dance!" he cried. when the music started tinkling he caught the french doll's hand, and danced 'way across the nursery floor before he discovered that her soft brown eyes remained closed as they were when she lay upon the "sick" bed. all the dolls gathered around raggedy andy and the french doll. "i can't open my eyes!" she said. raggedy andy tried to open the french doll's eyes with his soft rag hands, but it was no use. they shook her. this sometimes has the desired effect when dolls do not open their eyes. they shook her again and again. it was no use, her eyes remained closed. "it must be the sticky, sugary 'medicine'!" said uncle clem. "i really believe it must be!" the french doll replied. "the 'medicine' seemed to settle in the back of my head when i was lying down, and i can still feel it back there!" "that must be it, and now it has hardened and keeps your pretty eyes from working!" said raggedy ann. "what shall we do?" raggedy andy and raggedy ann walked over to a corner of the nursery and thought and thought. they pulled their foreheads down into wrinkles with their hands, so that they might think harder. [illustration: raggedy andy winds the music box] finally raggedy ann cried, "i've thought of a plan!" and went skipping from the corner out to where the other dolls sat about the french doll. "we must stand her upon her head, then the 'medicine' will run up into her hair, for there is a hole in the top of her head. i remember seeing it when her hair came off one time!" "no sooner said than done!" cried uncle clem, as he took the french doll by the waist and stood her upon her head. "that should be long enough!" raggedy ann said, when uncle clem had held the french doll in this position for five minutes. but when the french doll was again placed upon her feet her eyes still remained tightly closed. all this time, raggedy andy had remained in the corner, thinking as hard as his rag head would think. he thought and thought, until the yarn hair upon his head stood up in the air and wiggled. "if the 'medicine' did not run up into her hair when she stood upon her head," thought raggedy andy, "then it is because the 'medicine' could not run; so, if the medicine can not run, it is because it is too sticky and thick to run out the hole in the top of her head." he also thought a lot more. at last he turned to the others and said out loud, "i can't seem to think of a single way to help her open her eyes unless we take off her hair and wash the medicine from inside her china head." "why didn't i think of that?" raggedy ann asked. "that is just the way we shall have to do!" so raggedy ann caught hold of the french doll's feet, and raggedy andy caught hold of the french doll's lively curls, and they pulled and they pulled. then the other dolls caught hold of raggedy ann and raggedy andy and pulled and pulled, until finally, with a sharp "r-r-rip!" the french doll's hair came off, and the dolls who were pulling went tumbling over backwards. [illustration: shaking the french doll upside down] [illustration: hole in her head] laughingly they scrambled to their feet and sat the french doll up, so they might look into the hole in the top of her head. yes, the sticky "medicine" had grown hard and would not let the french doll's eyes open. raggedy andy put his hand inside and pushed on the eyes so that they opened. this was all right, only now the eyes would not close when the french doll lay down. she tried it. so raggedy andy ran down into the kitchen and brought up a small tin cup full of warm water and a tiny rag. with these he loosened the sticky "medicine" and washed the inside of the french doll's head nice and clean. there were lots of cooky and cracker crumbs inside her head, too. raggedy andy washed it all nice and clean, and then wet the glue which made the pretty curls stay on. so when her hair was placed upon her head again, the french doll was as good as new. "thank you all very much!" she said, as she tilted backwards and forwards, and found that her eyes worked very easily. raggedy andy again wound up the little music box and, catching the french doll about the waist, started a rollicking dance which lasted until the roosters in the neighborhood began their morning crowing. then, knowing the folks might soon be astir, the dolls left off their playing, and all took the same positions they had been in when marcella left them the night before. and so marcella found them. the french doll was in bed with her eyes closed, and her happy dimpling smile lighting up her pretty face. and to this day, the dollies' little mistress does not know that raggedy andy was the doctor who cured the french doll of her only ill. [illustration: raggedy andy dancing with the french doll] [illustration: dickie and raggedy andy] [illustration: where is raggedy andy's smile?] raggedy andy's smile raggedy andy's smile was gone. not entirely, but enough so that it made his face seem onesided. if one viewed raggedy andy from the left side, one could see his smile. but if one looked at raggedy andy from the right side, one could not see his smile. so raggedy andy's smile was gone. it really was not raggedy andy's fault. he felt just as happy and sunny as ever. and perhaps would not have known the difference had not the other dolls told him he had only one half of his cheery smile left. nor was it marcella's fault. how was she to know that dickie would feed raggedy andy orange juice and take off most of his smile? and besides taking off one half of raggedy andy's smile, the orange juice left a great brown stain upon his face. marcella was very sorry when she saw what dickie had done. dickie would have been sorry, too, if he had been more than two years old, but when one is only two years old, he has very few sorrows. dickie's only sorrow was that raggedy andy was taken from him, and he could not feed raggedy andy more orange juice. marcella kissed raggedy andy more than she did the rest of the dolls that night, when she put them to bed, and this made all the dolls very happy. it always gave them great pleasure when any of their number was hugged and kissed, for there was not a selfish doll among them. marcella hung up a tiny stocking for each of the dollies, and placed a tiny little china dish for each of the penny dolls beside their little spool box bed. for, as you probably have guessed, it was christmas eve, and marcella was in hopes santa claus would see the tiny stockings and place something in them for each dollie. then when the house was very quiet, the french doll told raggedy andy that most of his smile was gone. "indeed!" said raggedy andy. "i can still feel it! it must be there!" "oh, but it really is gone!" uncle clem said. "it was the orange juice!" "well, i still feel just as happy," said raggedy andy, "so let's have a jolly game of some sort! what shall it be?" "perhaps we had best try to wash your face!" said practical raggedy ann. she always acted as a mother to the other dolls when they were alone. "it will not do a bit of good!" the french doll told raggedy ann, "for i remember i had orange juice spilled upon a nice white frock i had one time, and the stain would never come out!" "that is too bad!" henny, the dutch doll, said. "we shall miss raggedy andy's cheery smile when he is looking straight at us!" "you will have to stand on my right side, when you wish to see my smile!" said raggedy andy, with a cheery little chuckle 'way down in his soft cotton inside. [illustration: raggedy andy's lopsided smile] [illustration: santa] "but i wish everyone to understand," he went on, "that i am smiling just the same, whether you can see it or not!" and with this, raggedy andy caught hold of uncle clem and henny, and made a dash for the nursery door, followed by all the other dolls. raggedy andy intended jumping down the stairs, head over heels, for he knew that neither he, uncle clem nor henny would break anything by jumping down stairs. but just as they got almost to the door, they dropped to the floor in a heap, for there, standing watching the whole performance, was a man. all the dolls fell in different attitudes, for it would never do for them to let a real person see that they could act and talk just like real people. raggedy andy, uncle clem and henny stopped so suddenly they fell over each other and raggedy andy, being in the lead and pulling the other two, slid right through the door and stopped at the feet of the man. a cheery laugh greeted this and a chubby hand reached down and picked up raggedy andy and turned him over. raggedy andy looked up into a cheery little round face, with a little red nose and red cheeks, and all framed in white whiskers which looked just like snow. then the little round man walked into the nursery and picked up all the dolls and looked at them. he made no noise when he walked, and this was why he had taken the dolls by surprise at the head of the stairs. the little man with the snow-white whiskers placed all the dolls in a row and from a little case in his pocket he took a tiny bottle and a little brush. he dipped the little brush in the tiny bottle and touched all the dolls' faces with it. he had purposely saved raggedy andy's face until the last. then, as all the dolls watched, the cheery little white-whiskered man touched raggedy andy's face with the magic liquid, and the orange juice stain disappeared, and in its place came raggedy andy's rosy cheeks and cheery smile. [illustration: santa repairs raggedy andy] and, turning raggedy andy so that he could face all the other dolls, the cheery little man showed him that all the other dolls had new rosy cheeks and newly-painted faces. they all looked just like new dollies. even susan's cracked head had been made whole. henny, the dutch doll, was so surprised he fell over backward and said, "squeek!" when the cheery little man with the white whiskers heard this, he picked henny up and touched him with the paint brush in the center of the back, just above the place where henny had the little mechanism which made him say "mama" when he was new. and when the little man touched henny and tipped him forward and backward, henny was just as good as new and said "mama" very prettily. then the little man put something in each of the tiny doll stockings, and something in each of the little china plates for the two penny dolls. then, as quietly as he had entered, he left, merely turning at the door and shaking his finger at the dolls in a cheery, mischievous manner. raggedy andy heard him chuckling to himself as he went down the stairs. raggedy andy tiptoed to the door and over to the head of the stairs. then he motioned for the other dolls to come. there, from the head of the stairs, they watched the cheery little white-whiskered man take pretty things from a large sack and place them about the chimneyplace. "he does not know that we are watching him," the dolls all thought, but when the little man had finished his task, he turned quickly and laughed right up at the dolls, for he had known that they were watching him all the time. then, again shaking his finger at them in his cheery manner, the little white-whiskered man swung the sack to his shoulder, and with a whistle such as the wind makes when it plays through the chinks of a window, he was gone--up the chimney. the dolls were very quiet as they walked back into the nursery and sat down to think it all over, and as they sat there thinking, they heard out in the night the "tinkle, tinkle, tinkle" of tiny sleigh bells, growing fainter and fainter as they disappeared in the distance. without a word, but filled with a happy wonder, the dolls climbed into their beds, just as marcella had left them, and pulled the covers up to their chins. and raggedy andy lay there, his little shoe button eyes looking straight towards the ceiling and smiling a joyful smile--not a "half smile" this time, but a "full size smile." [illustration: raggedy andy smiling a joyful smile] [illustration: raggedy andy and the wooden horse] [illustration: santa leaves the wooden horse] the wooden horse santa claus left a whole lot of toys. a wooden horse, covered with canton flannel and touched lightly with a paint brush dipped in black paint to give him a dappled gray appearance, was one of the presents. with the wooden horse came a beautiful red wagon with four yellow wheels. my! the paint was pretty and shiny. the wooden horse was hitched to the wagon with a patent leather harness; and he, himself, stood proudly upon a red platform running on four little nickel wheels. it was true that the wooden horse's eyes were as far apart as a camel's and made him look quite like one when viewed from in front, but he had soft leather ears and a silken mane and tail. he was nice to look upon, was the wooden horse. all the dolls patted him and smoothed his silken mane and felt his shiny patent leather harness the first night they were alone with him in the nursery. the wooden horse had a queer voice; the dolls could hardly understand him at first, but when his bashfulness wore off, he talked quite plainly. "it is the first time i have ever tried to talk," he explained when he became acquainted, "and i guess i was talking down in my stomach instead of my head!" "you will like it here in the nursery very much!" said raggedy andy. "we have such jolly times and love each other so much i know you will enjoy your new home!" "i am sure i shall!" the wooden horse answered. "where i came from, we--the other horses and myself--just stood silently upon the shelves and looked and looked straight ahead, and never so much as moved our tails." "see if you can move your tail now!" henny, the dutch doll, suggested. the wooden horse started to roll across the nursery floor and if raggedy ann had not been in the way, he might have bumped into the wall. as it was, the wooden horse rolled against raggedy ann and upset her but could go no further when his wheels ran against her rag foot. when the wooden horse upset raggedy ann, he stood still until uncle clem and henny and raggedy andy lifted him off raggedy ann's feet. "did i frisk my tail?" he asked when raggedy ann stood up and smoothed her apron. "try it again!" said raggedy ann. "i couldn't see!" she laughed her cheery rag doll laugh, for raggedy ann, no matter what happened, never lost her temper. the wooden horse started rolling backward at this and knocked henny over upon his back, causing him to cry "mama!" in his squeeky voice. uncle clem, raggedy ann, and the tin soldier all held to the wooden horse and managed to stop him just as he was backing out of the nursery door towards the head of the stairs. then the dolls pulled the wooden horse back to the center of the room. "it's funny" he said, "that i start moving backward or forward when i try to frisk my tail!" "i believe it is because you have stood so long upon the shelf without moving," raggedy andy suggested. "suppose you try moving forward!" uncle clem, who was standing in front of the wooden horse, jumped to one side so hastily his feet slipped out from under him, just as if he had been sliding upon slippery ice. [illustration: the wooden horse rolled over raggedy ann's foot] [illustration: the wooden horse and the dolls] the wooden horse did not start moving forward as uncle clem had expected; instead, his silken tail frisked gaily up over his back. "whee! there, you frisked your tail!" cried all the dolls as joyfully as if the wooden horse had done something truly wonderful. "it's easy now!" said the wooden horse. "when i wish to go forward or backward i'll try to frisk my tail and then i'll roll along on my shiny wheels; then when i wish to frisk my tail i'll try to roll forward or backward, like this!" but instead of rolling forward, the wooden horse frisked his tail. "i wanted to frisk my tail then!" he said in surprise. "now i'll roll forward!" and sure enough, the wooden horse rolled across the nursery floor. when he started rolling upon his shiny wheels, raggedy andy cried, "all aboard!" and, taking a short run, he leaped upon the wooden horse's back. uncle clem, raggedy ann, henny, the dutch doll and susan, the doll without a head, all scrambled up into the pretty red wagon. the wooden horse thought this was great fun and round and round the nursery he circled. his shiny wheels and the pretty yellow wheels of the red wagon creaked so loudly none of the dolls heard the cries of the tiny penny dolls who were too small to climb aboard. finally, as the wagon load of dolls passed the penny dolls, raggedy andy noticed the two little midgets standing together and missing the fun; so, leaning 'way over to one side as the horse swept by them, raggedy andy caught both the penny dolls in his strong rag arms and lifted them to a seat upon the broad back of the wooden horse. "hooray!" cried all the dolls when they saw raggedy andy's feat. "it was just like a wild west show!" "we must all have all the fun we can together!" said raggedy andy. "good for you!" cried uncle clem. "the more fun we can give each other, the more fun each one of us will have!" [illustration: the wooden horse pulls a cart] [illustration: raggedy andy and the penny dolls went clear over his head] the wooden horse made the circle of the nursery a great many times, for it pleased him very much to hear the gay laughter of the dolls and he thought to himself, "how happy i will be, living with such a jolly crowd." but just as he was about to pass the door, there was a noise upon the stairs and the wooden horse, hearing it, stopped so suddenly raggedy andy and the penny dolls went clear over his head and the dolls in the front of the wagon took raggedy andy's seat upon the horse's back. they lay just as they fell, for they did not wish anyone to suspect that they could move or talk. "ha! ha! ha! i knew you were having a lot of fun!" cried a cheery voice. at this, all the dolls immediately scrambled back into their former places, for they recognized the voice of the french dollie. but what was their surprise to see her dressed in a lovely fairy costume, her lovely curls flying out behind, as she ran towards them. raggedy andy was just about to climb upon the horse's back again when the french doll leaped there herself and, balancing lightly upon one foot, stood in this position while the wooden horse rolled around the nursery as fast as he could go. raggedy andy and the two penny dolls ran after the wagon and, with the assistance of uncle clem and raggedy ann, climbed up in back. when the wooden horse finally stopped the dolls all said, "this is the most fun we have had for a _long_ time!" the wooden horse, a thrill of happiness running through his wooden body, cried, "it is the most fun i have _ever_ had!" and the dolls, while they did not tell him so, knew that he had had the most fun because he had given _them_ the most pleasure. for, as you must surely know, they who are the most unselfish are the ones who gain the greatest joy; because they give happiness to others. [illustration: the french doll balanced lightly upon one foot] [illustration: in front of the toy stove] [illustration: four dolls] making "angels" in the snow "whee! it's good to be back home again!" said raggedy andy to the other dolls, as he stretched his feet out in front of the little toy stove and rubbed his rag hands briskly together, as if to warm them. all the dolls laughed at raggedy andy for doing this, for they knew there had never been a fire in the little toy stove in all the time it had been in the nursery. and that was a long time. "we are so glad and happy to have you back home again with us!" the dolls told raggedy andy. "for we have missed you very, very much!" "well," raggedy andy replied, as he held his rag hands over the tiny lid of the stove and rubbed them again, "i have missed all of you, too, and wished many times that you had been with me to join in and share in the pleasures and frolics i've had." and as raggedy andy continued to hold his hands over the little stove, uncle clem asked him why he did it. raggedy andy smiled and leaned back in his chair. "really," he said, "i wasn't paying any attention to what i was doing! i've spent so much of my time while i was away drying out my soft cotton stuffing it seems as though it has almost become a habit." "were you wet most of the time, raggedy andy?" the french doll asked. "nearly all the time!" raggedy andy replied. "first i would get sopping wet and then i'd freeze!" "freeze!" exclaimed all the dolls in one breath. "dear me, yes!" raggedy andy laughed. "just see here!" and raggedy andy pulled his sleeve up and showed where his rag arm had been mended. "that was quite a rip!" he smiled. "dear! dear! how in the world did it happen? on a nail?" henny, the dutch doll, asked as he put his arm about raggedy andy. "froze!" said raggedy andy. the dolls gathered around raggedy andy and examined the rip in his rag arm. "it's all right now!" he laughed. "but you should have seen me when it happened! i was frozen into one solid cake of ice all the way through, and when marcella tried to limber up my arm before it had thawed out, it went, 'pop!' and just bursted. "then i was placed in a pan of nice warm water until the icy cotton inside me had melted, and then i was hung up on a line above the kitchen stove, out at gran'ma's." "but how did you happen to get so wet and then freeze?" asked raggedy ann. "out across the road from gran'ma's home, 'way out in the country, there is a lovely pond," raggedy andy explained. "in the summer time pretty flowers grow about the edge, the little green frogs sit upon the pond lilies and beat upon their tiny drums all through the night, and the twinkling stars wink at their reflections in the smooth water. but when marcella and i went out to gran'ma's, last week, gran'ma met us with a sleigh, for the ground was covered with starry snow. the pretty pond was covered with ice, too, and upon the ice was a soft blanket of the white, white snow. it was beautiful!" said raggedy andy. [illustration: marcella and raggedy andy in the snow] [illustration: marcella on a sled] "gran'ma had a lovely new sled for marcella, a red one with shiny runners. "and after we had visited gran'ma a while, we went to the pond for a slide. "it was heaps of fun, for there was a little hill at one end of the pond so that when we coasted down, we went scooting across the pond like an arrow. "marcella would turn the sled sideways, just for fun, and she and i would fall off and go sliding across the ice upon our backs, leaving a clean path of ice, where we pushed aside the snow as we slid. then marcella showed me how to make 'angels' in the soft snow!" "oh, tell us how, raggedy andy!" shouted all the dollies. "it's very easy!" said raggedy andy. "marcella would lie down upon her back in the snow and put her hands back up over her head, then she would bring her hands in a circle down to her sides, like this." and raggedy andy lay upon the floor of the nursery and showed the dollies just how it was done. "then," he added, "when she stood up it would leave the print of her body and legs in the white, white snow, and where she had swooped her arms there were the 'angel's wings!'" "it must have looked just like an angel!" said uncle clem. "indeed it was very pretty!" raggedy andy answered. "then marcella made a lot of 'angels' by placing me in the snow and working my arms; so you see, what with falling off the sled so much and making so many 'angels,' we both were wet, but i was completely soaked through. my cotton just became soppy and i was ever so much heavier! then gran'ma, just as we were having a most delightful time, came to the door and 'ooh-hooed' to marcella to come and get a nice new doughnut. so marcella, thinking to return in a minute, left me lying upon the sled and ran through the snow to gran'ma's. and there i stayed and stayed until i began to feel stiff and could hear the cotton inside me go, 'tic! tic!' as it began to freeze. [illustration: raggedy andy on a sled at night] "i lay upon the sled until after the sun went down. two little chicadees came and sat upon the sled and talked to me in their cute little bird language, and i watched the sky in the west get golden red, then turn into a deep crimson purple and finally a deep blue, as the sun went farther down around the bend of the earth. after it had been dark for some time, i heard someone coming through the snow and could see the yellow light of a lantern. it was gran'ma. "she pulled the sled over in back of her house and did not see that i was upon it until she turned to go in the kitchen; then she picked me up and took me inside. 'he's frozen as stiff as a board!' she told marcella as she handed me to her. marcella did not say why she had forgotten to come for me, but i found out afterward that it was because she was so wet. gran'ma made her change her clothes and shoes and stockings and would not permit her to go out and play again. "well, anyway," concluded raggedy andy, "marcella tried to limber my arm and, being almost solid ice, it just burst. and that is the way it went all the time we were out at gran'ma's; i was wet nearly all the time. but i wish you could all have been with me to share in the fun." and raggedy andy again leaned over the little toy stove and rubbed his rag hands briskly together. uncle clem went to the waste paper basket and came back with some scraps of yellow and red paper. then, taking off one of the tiny lids, he stuffed the paper in part of the way as if the flames were "shooting up!" then, as all the dolls' merry laughter rang out, raggedy andy stopped rubbing his hands, and catching raggedy ann about the waist, he went skipping across the nursery floor with her, whirling so fast neither saw they had gone out through the door until it was too late. for coming to the head of the stairs, they both went head over heels, "blumpity, blump!" over and over, until they wound up, laughing, at the bottom. "last one up is a cocoa baby!" cried raggedy ann, as she scrambled to her feet. and with her skirts in her rag hands she went racing up the stairs to where the rest of the dollies stood laughing. "hurrah, for raggedy ann!" cried raggedy andy generously. "she won!" [illustration: raggedy ann racing up the stairs] [illustration: listening to the seashell] [illustration: the singing shell] the singing shell for years and years the beautiful shell had been upon the floor in gran'ma's front room. it was a large shell with many points upon it. these were coarse and rough, but the shell was most beautiful inside. marcella had seen the shell time and time again and often admired its lovely coloring, which could be seen when one looked inside the shell. so one day, gran'ma gave the beautiful shell to marcella to have for her very own, up in the nursery. "it will be nice to place before the nursery door so the wind will not blow the door to and pinch anyone's fingers!" gran'ma laughed. so marcella brought the shell home and placed it in front of the nursery door. here the dolls saw it that night, when all the house was still, and stood about it wondering what kind of toy it might be. "it seems to be nearly all mouth!" said henny, the dutch doll. "perhaps it can talk." "it has teeth!" the french doll pointed out. "it may bite!" "i do not believe it will bite," raggedy andy mused, as he got down upon his hands and knees and looked up into the shell. "marcella would not have it up here if it would bite!" and, saying this, raggedy andy put his rag arm into the lovely shell's mouth. "it doesn't bite! i knew it wouldn't!" he cried. "just feel how smooth it is inside!" all the dolls felt and were surprised to find it polished so highly inside, while the outside was so coarse and rough. with the help of uncle clem and henny, raggedy andy turned the shell upon its back, so that all the dolls might look in. the coloring consisted of dainty pinks, creamy whites and pale blues, all running together just as the coloring in an opal runs from one shade into another. raggedy andy, stooping over to look further up inside the pretty shell, heard something. "it's whispering!" he said, as he raised up in surprise. all the dolls took turns putting their ears to the mouth of the beautiful shell. yes, truly it whispered, but they could not catch just what it said. finally raggedy andy suggested that all the dolls lie down upon the floor directly before the shell and keep very quiet. "if we don't make a sound we may be able to hear what it says!" he explained. so the dolls lay down, placing themselves flat upon the floor directly in front of the shell and where they could see and admire its beautiful coloring. now the dolls could be very, very quiet when they really wished to be, and it was easy for them to hear the faint whispering of the shell. this is the story the shell told the dolls in the nursery that night: "a long, long time ago, i lived upon the yellow sand, deep down beneath the blue, blue waters of the ocean. pretty silken sea weeds grew around my home and reached their waving branches up, up towards the top of the water. [illustration: everyone listens] "through the pretty sea weeds, fishes of pretty colors and shapes darted here and there, playing at their games. "it was still and quiet 'way down where i lived, for even if the ocean roared and pounded itself into an angry mass of tumbling waves up above, this never disturbed the calm waters down where i lived. "many times, little fishes or other tiny sea people came and hid within my pretty house when they were being pursued by larger sea creatures. and it always made me very happy to give them this protection. "they would stay inside until i whispered that the larger creature had gone, then they would leave me and return to their play. "pretty little sea horses with slender, curving bodies often went sailing above me, or would come to rest upon my back. it was nice to lie and watch the tiny things curl their little tails about the sea weed and talk together, for the sea horses like one another and are gentle and kind to each other, sharing their food happily and smoothing their little ones with their cunning noses. "but one day a diver leaped over the side of a boat and came swimming head-first down, down to where i lay. my! how the tiny sea creatures scurried to hide from him. he took me within his hand and, giving his feet a thump upon the yellow sand, rose with me to the surface. "he poured the water from me, and out came all the little creatures who had been hiding there!" raggedy andy wiggled upon the floor, he was so interested. "did the tiny creatures get back into the water safely?" he asked the beautiful shell. "oh, yes!" the shell whispered in reply. "the man held me over the side of the boat, so the tiny creatures went safely back into the water!" "i am so glad!" raggedy andy said, with a sigh of relief. "he must have been a kindly man!" "yes, indeed!" the beautiful shell replied. "so i was placed along with a lot of other shells in the bottom of the boat and every once in a while another shell was placed amongst us. we whispered together and wondered where we were going. we were finally sold to different people and i have been at gran'ma's house for a long, long time." "you lived there when gran'ma was a little girl, didn't you?" raggedy ann asked. "yes," replied the shell, "i have lived there ever since gran'ma was a little girl. she often used to play with me and listen to me sing." "raggedy ann can play 'peter, peter, pumpkin eater' on the piano, with one hand," said uncle clem, "but none of us can sing. will you sing for us?" he asked the shell. "i sing all the time," the shell replied, "for i cannot help singing, but my singing is a secret and so is very soft and low. put your head close to the opening in my shell and listen!" the dolls took turns doing this, and heard the shell sing softly and very sweetly. "how strange and far away it sounds!" exclaimed the french doll. "like fairies singing in the distance! the shell must be singing the songs of the mermaids and the water-fairies!" "it is queer that anything so rough on the outside could be so pretty within!" said raggedy andy. "it must be a great pleasure to be able to sing so sweetly!" "indeed it is," replied the beautiful shell, "and i get a great happiness from singing all the time." "and you will bring lots of pleasure to us, by being so happy!" said raggedy andy. "for although you may not enter into our games, we will always know that you are happily singing, and that will make us all happy!" "i will tell you the secret of my singing," said the shell. "when anyone puts his ear to me and listens, he hears the reflection of his own heart's music, singing; so, you see, while i say that i am singing all the time, in reality i sing only when someone full of happiness hears his own singing as if it were mine." "how unselfish you are to say this!" said raggedy andy. "now we are ever so much more glad to have you with us. aren't we?" he asked, turning to the rest of the dolls. "yes, indeed!" came the answer from all the dolls, even the tiny penny dolls. "that is why the shell is so beautiful inside!" said raggedy ann. "those who are unselfish may wear rough clothes, but inside they are always beautiful, just like the shell, and reflect to others the happiness and sunny music within their hearts!" [illustration: the shell speaks] transcriber's notes: table of contents was added. punctuation was normalized. descriptions were added to the illustrations which in the original had no captions. raggedy ann stories written & illustrated by johnny gruelle [illustration] little simon new york london toronto sydney [illustration] preface and dedication as i write this, i have before me on my desk, propped up against the telephone, an old rag doll. dear old raggedy ann! the same raggedy ann with which my mother played when a child. there she sits, a trifle loppy and loose-jointed, looking me squarely in the face in a straightforward, honest manner, a twinkle where her shoe-button eyes reflect the electric light. evidently raggedy has been to a "tea party" today, for her face is covered with chocolate. she smiles happily and continuously. true, she has been nibbled by mice, who have made nests out of the soft cotton with which she has been stuffed, but raggedy smiled just as broadly when the mice nibbled at her, for her smile is painted on. what adventures you must have had, raggedy! what joy and happiness you have brought into this world! and no matter what treatment you have received, how patient you have been! what lessons of kindness and fortitude you might teach could you but talk; you with your wisdom of fifty-nine years. no wonder rag dolls are the best beloved! you are so kindly, so patient, so lovable. the more you become torn, tattered and loose-jointed, rag dolls, the more you are loved by children. who knows but that fairyland is filled with old, lovable rag dolls--soft, loppy rag dolls who ride through all the wonders of fairyland in the crook of dimpled arms, snuggling close to childish breasts within which beat hearts filled with eternal sunshine. so, to the millions of children and grown-ups who have loved a rag doll, i dedicate these stories of raggedy ann. johnny gruelle. [illustration] [illustration] introduction marcella liked to play up in the attic at grandma's quaint old house, 'way out in the country, for there were so many old forgotten things to find up there. one day when marcella was up in the attic and had played with the old spinning wheel until she had grown tired of it, she curled up on an old horse-hair sofa to rest. "i wonder what is in that barrel, 'way back in the corner?" she thought, as she jumped from the sofa and climbed over two dusty trunks to the barrel standing back under the eaves. it was quite dark back there, so when marcella had pulled a large bundle of things from the barrel she took them over to the dormer window where she could see better. there was a funny little bonnet with long white ribbons. marcella put it on. in an old leather bag she found a number of tin-types of queer looking men and women in old-fashioned clothes. and there was one picture of a very pretty little girl with long curls tied tightly back from her forehead and wearing a long dress and queer pantaloons which reached to her shoe-tops. and then out of the heap she pulled an old rag doll with only one shoe-button eye and a painted nose and a smiling mouth. her dress was of soft material, blue with pretty little flowers and dots all over it. forgetting everything else in the happiness of her find, marcella caught up the rag doll and ran downstairs to show it to grandma. "well! well! where did you find it?" grandma cried. "it's old raggedy ann!" she went on as she hugged the doll to her breast. "i had forgotten her. she has been in the attic for fifty years, i guess! well! well! dear old raggedy ann! i will sew another button on her right away!" and grandma went to the machine drawer and got her needle and thread. marcella watched the sewing while grandma told how she had played with raggedy ann when she was a little girl. "now!" grandma laughed, "raggedy ann, you have two fine shoe-button eyes and with them you can see the changes that have taken place in the world while you have been shut up so long in the attic! for, raggedy ann, you have a new playmate and mistress now, and i hope you both will have as much happiness together as you and i used to have!" then grandma gave raggedy ann to marcella, saying very seriously, "marcella, let me introduce my very dear friend, raggedy ann. raggedy, this is my grand-daughter, marcella!" and grandma gave the doll a twitch with her fingers in such a way that the rag doll nodded her head to marcella. "oh, grandma! thank you ever and ever so much!" marcella cried as she gave grandma a hug and kiss. "raggedy ann and i will have just loads of fun." and this is how raggedy ann joined the doll family at marcella's house, where she began the adventures of raggedy ann, told in the following stories. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann learns a lesson one day the dolls were left all to themselves. their little mistress had placed them all around the room and told them to be nice children while she was away. and there they sat and never even so much as wiggled a finger, until their mistress had left the room. then the soldier dolly turned his head and solemnly winked at raggedy ann. and when the front gate clicked and the dollies knew they were alone in the house, they all scrambled to their feet. "now let's have a good time!" cried the tin soldier. "let's all go in search of something to eat!" "yes! let's all go in search of something to eat!" cried all the other dollies. "when mistress had me out playing with her this morning," said raggedy ann, "she carried me by a door near the back of the house and i smelled something which smelled as if it would taste delicious!" "then you lead the way, raggedy ann!" cried the french dolly. "i think it would be a good plan to elect raggedy ann as our leader on this expedition!" said the indian doll. at this all the other dolls clapped their hands together and shouted, "hurrah! raggedy ann will be our leader." so raggedy ann, very proud indeed to have the confidence and love of all the other dollies, said that she would be very glad to be their leader. "follow me!" she cried as her wobbly legs carried her across the floor at a lively pace. the other dollies followed, racing about the house until they came to the pantry door. "this is the place!" cried raggedy ann, and sure enough, all the dollies smelled something which they knew must be very good to eat. but none of the dollies was tall enough to open the door and, although they pushed and pulled with all their might, the door remained tightly closed. the dollies were talking and pulling and pushing and every once in a while one would fall over and the others would step on her in their efforts to open the door. finally raggedy ann drew away from the others and sat down on the floor. when the other dollies discovered raggedy ann sitting there, running her rag hands through her yarn hair, they knew she was thinking. "sh! sh!" they said to each other and quietly went over near raggedy ann and sat down in front of her. "there must be a way to get inside," said raggedy ann. "raggedy says there must be a way to get inside!" cried all the dolls. "i can't seem to think clearly to-day," said raggedy ann. "it feels as if my head were ripped." at this the french doll ran to raggedy ann and took off her bonnet. "yes, there is a rip in your head, raggedy!" she said and pulled a pin from her skirt and pinned up raggedy's head. "it's not a very neat job, for i got some puckers in it!" she said. "oh that is ever so much better!" cried raggedy ann. "now i can think quite clearly." "now raggedy can think quite clearly!" cried all the dolls. "my thoughts must have leaked out the rip before!" said raggedy ann. [illustration] [illustration] "they must have leaked out before, dear raggedy!" cried all the other dolls. "now that i can think so clearly," said raggedy ann, "i think the door must be locked and to get in we must unlock it!" "that will be easy!" said the dutch doll who says "mamma" when he is tipped backward and forward, "for we will have the brave tin soldier shoot the key out of the lock!" "i can easily do that!" cried the tin soldier, as he raised his gun. "oh, raggedy ann!" cried the french dolly. "please do not let him shoot!" "no!" said raggedy ann. "we must think of a quieter way!" after thinking quite hard for a moment, raggedy ann jumped up and said: "i have it!" and she caught up the jumping jack and held him up to the door; then jack slid up his stick and unlocked the door. then the dollies all pushed and the door swung open. my! such a scramble! the dolls piled over one another in their desire to be the first at the goodies. they swarmed upon the pantry shelves and in their eagerness spilled a pitcher of cream which ran all over the french dolly's dress. the indian doll found some corn bread and dipping it in the molasses he sat down for a good feast. a jar of raspberry jam was overturned and the dollies ate of this until their faces were all purple. the tin soldier fell from the shelf three times and bent one of his tin legs, but he scrambled right back up again. never had the dolls had so much fun and excitement, and they had all eaten their fill when they heard the click of the front gate. [illustration] they did not take time to climb from the shelves, but all rolled or jumped off to the floor and scrambled back to their room as fast as they could run, leaving a trail of bread crumbs and jam along the way. just as their mistress came into the room the dolls dropped in whatever positions they happened to be in. "this is funny!" cried mistress. "they were all left sitting in their places around the room! i wonder if fido has been shaking them up!" then she saw raggedy ann's face and picked her up. "why raggedy ann, you are all sticky! i do believe you are covered with jam!" and mistress tasted raggedy ann's hand. "yes! it's jam! shame on you, raggedy ann! you've been in the pantry and all the others, too!" and with this the dolls' mistress dropped raggedy ann on the floor and left the room. when she came back she had on an apron and her sleeves were rolled up. she picked up all the sticky dolls and putting them in a basket she carried them out under the apple tree in the garden. there she had placed her little tub and wringer and she took the dolls one at a time, and scrubbed them with a scrubbing brush and soused them up and down and this way and that in the soap suds until they were clean. then she hung them all out on the clothes-line in the sunshine to dry. there the dolls hung all day, swinging and twisting about as the breeze swayed the clothes-line. "i do believe she scrubbed my face so hard she wore off my smile!" said raggedy ann, after an hour of silence. [illustration] [illustration] "no, it is still there!" said the tin solder, as the wind twisted him around so he could see raggedy. "but i do believe my arms will never work without squeaking, they feel so rusted," he added. just then the wind twisted the little dutch doll and loosened his clothes-pin, so that he fell to the grass below with a sawdusty bump and as he rolled over he said, "mamma!" in a squeaky voice. late in the afternoon the back door opened and the little mistress came out with a table and chairs. after setting the table she took all the dolls from the line and placed them about the table. they had lemonade with grape jelly in it, which made it a beautiful lavender color, and little "baby-teeny-weeny-cookies" with powdered sugar on them. after this lovely dinner, the dollies were taken in the house, where they had their hair brushed and nice clean nighties put on. then they were placed in their beds and mistress kissed each one good night and tiptoed from the room. all the dolls lay as still as mice for a few minutes, then raggedy ann raised up on her cotton-stuffed elbows and said: "i have been thinking!" "sh!" said all the other dollies, "raggedy has been thinking!" "yes," said raggedy ann, "i have been thinking; our mistress gave us the nice dinner out under the trees to teach us a lesson. she wished us to know that we could have had all the goodies we wished, whenever we wished, if we had behaved ourselves. and our lesson was that we must never take without asking what we could always have for the asking! so let us all remember and try never again to do anything which might cause those who love us any unhappiness!" "let us all remember," chimed all the other dollies. [illustration] and raggedy ann, with a merry twinkle in her shoe-button eyes, lay back in her little bed, her cotton head filled with thoughts of love and happiness. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann and the washing "why, dinah! how could you!" mamma looked out of the window and saw marcella run up to dinah and take something out of her hand and then put her head in her arm and commence crying. "what is the trouble, dear?" mamma asked, as she came out the door and knelt beside the little figure shaking with sobs. marcella held out raggedy ann. but such a comical looking raggedy ann! mamma had to smile in spite of her sympathy, for raggedy ann looked ridiculous! dinah's big eyes rolled out in a troubled manner, for marcella had snatched raggedy ann from dinah's hand as she cried, "why, dinah! how could you?" dinah could not quite understand and, as she dearly loved marcella, she was troubled. raggedy ann was not in the least downhearted and while she felt she must look very funny she continued to smile, but with a more expansive smile than ever before. raggedy ann knew just how it all happened and her remaining shoe-button eye twinkled. she remembered that morning when marcella came to the nursery to take the nighties from the dolls and dress them she had been cross. raggedy ann thought at the time "perhaps she had climbed out of bed backwards!" for marcella complained to each doll as she dressed them. and when it came raggedy's time to be dressed, marcella was very cross for she had scratched her finger on a pin when dressing the french doll. so, when marcella heard the little girl next door calling to her, she ran out of the nursery and gave raggedy ann a toss from her as she ran. now it happened raggedy lit in the clothes hamper and there she lay all doubled up in a knot. a few minutes afterwards dinah came through the hall with an armful of clothes and piled them in the hamper on top of raggedy ann. then dinah carried the hamper out in back of the house where she did the washing. dinah dumped all the clothes into the boiler and poured water on them. the boiler was then placed upon the stove. when the water began to get warm, raggedy ann wiggled around and climbed up amongst the clothes to the top of the boiler to peek out. there was too much steam and she could see nothing. for that matter, dinah could not see raggedy ann, either, on account of the steam. so dinah, using an old broom handle, stirred the clothes in the boiler and the clothes and raggedy ann were stirred and whirled around until all were thoroughly boiled. when dinah took the clothes a piece at a time from the boiler and scrubbed them, she finally came upon raggedy ann. now dinah did not know but that marcella had placed raggedy in the clothes hamper to be washed, so she soaped raggedy well and scrubbed her up and down over the rough wash-board. [illustration] two buttons from the back of raggedy's dress came off and one of raggedy ann's shoe-button eyes was loosened as dinah gave her face a final scrub. [illustration] then dinah put raggedy ann's feet in the wringer and turned the crank. it was hard work getting raggedy through the wringer, but dinah was very strong. and of course it happened! raggedy ann came through as flat as a pancake. it was just then, that marcella returned and saw raggedy. "why, dinah! how could you!" marcella had sobbed as she snatched the flattened raggedy ann from the bewildered dinah's hand. mamma patted marcella's hand and soon coaxed her to quit sobbing. when dinah explained that the first she knew of raggedy being in the wash was when she took her from the boiler, marcella began crying again. "it was all my fault, mamma!" she cried. "i remember now that i threw dear old raggedy ann from me as i ran out the door and she must have fallen in the clothes hamper! oh dear! oh dear!" and she hugged raggedy ann tight. mamma did not tell marcella that she had been cross and naughty for she knew marcella felt very sorry. instead mamma put her arms around her and said, "just see how raggedy ann takes it! she doesn't seem to be unhappy!" and when marcella brushed her tears away and looked at raggedy ann, flat as a pancake and with a cheery smile upon her painted face, she had to laugh. and mamma and dinah had to laugh, too, for raggedy ann's smile was almost twice as broad as it had been before. "just let me hang miss raggedy on the line in the bright sunshine for half an hour," said dinah, "and you won't know her when she comes off!" so raggedy ann was pinned to the clothes-line, out in the bright sunshine, where she swayed and twisted in the breeze and listened to the chatter of the robins in a nearby tree. [illustration] every once in a while dinah went out and rolled and patted raggedy until her cotton stuffing was soft and dry and fluffy and her head and arms and legs were nice and round again. then she took raggedy ann into the house and showed marcella and mamma how clean and sweet she was. marcella took raggedy ann right up to the nursery and told all the dolls just what had happened and how sorry she was that she had been so cross and peevish when she dressed them. and while the dolls said never a word they looked at their little mistress with love in their eyes as she sat in the little red rocking chair and held raggedy ann tightly in her arms. and raggedy ann's remaining shoe-button eye looked up at her little mistress in rather a saucy manner, but upon her face was the same old smile of happiness, good humor and love. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann and the kite raggedy ann watched with interest the preparations. a number of sticks were being fastened together with strings and covered with light cloth. raggedy ann heard some of the boys talk of "the kite," so raggedy ann knew this must be a kite. when a tail had been fastened to the kite and a large ball of heavy twine tied to the front, one of the boys held the kite up in the air and another boy walked off, unwinding the ball of twine. there was a nice breeze blowing, so the boy with the twine called, "let 'er go" and started running. marcella held raggedy up so that she could watch the kite sail through the air. how nicely it climbed! but suddenly the kite acted strangely, and as all the children shouted advice to the boy with the ball of twine, the kite began darting this way and that, and finally making four or five loop-the-loops, it crashed to the ground. "it needs more tail on it!" one boy shouted. then the children asked each other where they might get more rags to fasten to the tail of the kite. "let's tie raggedy ann to the tail!" suggested marcella. "i know she would enjoy a trip 'way up in the sky!" the boys all shouted with delight at this new suggestion. so raggedy ann was tied to the tail of the kite. this time the kite rose straight in the air and remained steady. the boy with the ball of twine unwound it until the kite and raggedy ann were 'way, 'way up and far away. how raggedy ann enjoyed being up there! she could see for miles and miles! and how tiny the children looked! suddenly a great puff of wind came and carried raggedy ann streaming 'way out behind the kite! she could hear the wind singing on the twine as the strain increased. suddenly raggedy ann felt something rip. it was the rag to which she was tied. as each puff of wind caught her the rip widened. when marcella watched raggedy ann rise high above the field, she wondered how much raggedy ann enjoyed it, and wished that she, too, might have gone along. but after the kite had been up in the air for five or ten minutes, marcella grew restless. kites were rather tiresome. there was more fun in tea parties out under the apple tree. "will you please pull down the kite now?" she asked the boy with the twine. "i want raggedy ann." "let her ride up there!" the boy replied. "we'll bring her home when we pull down the kite! we're going to get another ball of twine and let her go higher!" marcella did not like to leave raggedy ann with the boys, so she sat down upon the ground to wait until they pulled down the kite. but while marcella watched raggedy ann, a dot in the sky, she could not see the wind ripping the rag to which raggedy was tied. suddenly the rag parted and raggedy ann went sailing away as the wind caught in her skirts. marcella jumped from the ground, too surprised to say anything. the kite, released from the weight of raggedy ann began darting and swooping to the ground. [illustration] [illustration] "we'll get her for you!" some of the boys said when they saw marcella's troubled face, and they started running in the direction raggedy ann had fallen. marcella and the other girls ran with them. they ran, and they ran, and they ran, and at last they found the kite upon the ground with one of the sticks broken, but they could not find raggedy ann anywhere. "she must have fallen almost in your yard!" a boy said to marcella, "for the kite was directly over here when the doll fell!" marcella was heartbroken. she went in the house and lay on the bed. mamma went out with the children and tried to find raggedy ann, but raggedy ann was nowhere to be seen. when daddy came home in the evening he tried to find raggedy, but met with no success. marcella had eaten hardly any dinner, nor could she be comforted by mamma or daddy. the other dolls in the nursery lay forgotten and were not put to bed that night, for marcella lay and sobbed and tossed about her bed. finally she said a little prayer for raggedy ann, and went to sleep. and as she slept marcella dreamed that the fairies came and took raggedy ann with them to fairyland for a visit, and then sent raggedy ann home to her. she awakened with a cry. of course mamma came to her bed right away and said that daddy would offer a reward in the morning for the return of raggedy. "it was all my fault, mamma!" marcella said. "i should not have offered the boys dear old raggedy ann to tie on the tail of the kite! but i just know the fairies will send her back." mamma took her in her arms and soothed her with cheering words, although she felt indeed that raggedy ann was truly lost and would never be found again. now, where do you suppose raggedy ann was all this time? [illustration] when raggedy ann dropped from the kite, the wind caught in her skirts and carried her along until she fell in the fork of the large elm tree directly over marcella's house. when raggedy ann fell with a thud, face up in the fork of the tree, two robins who had a nest near by flew chattering away. presently the robins returned and quarreled at raggedy ann for laying so close to their nest, but raggedy ann only smiled at them and did not move. when the robins quieted down and quit their quarreling, one of them hopped up closer to raggedy ann in order to investigate. it was mamma robin. she called to daddy robin and told him to come. "see the nice yarn! we could use it to line the nest with," she said. so the robins hopped closer to raggedy ann and asked if they might have some of her yarn hair to line their nest. raggedy ann smiled at them. so the two robins pulled and tugged at raggedy ann's yarn hair until they had enough to line their nest nice and soft. evening came and the robins sang their good night songs, and raggedy ann watched the stars come out, twinkle all night and disappear in the morning light. in the morning the robins again pulled yarn from raggedy ann's head, and loosened her so she could peep over the side of the limb, and when the sun came up raggedy ann saw she was in the trees in her own yard. now before she could eat any breakfast, marcella started out to find raggedy ann. and, it was marcella herself who found her. and this is how she did it. mamma robin had seen marcella with raggedy ann out in the yard many times, so she began calling "cheery! cheery!" and daddy robin started calling "cheery! cheery! cheer up! cheer up! cheerily cheerily! cheery! cheery!" and marcella looking up into the tree above the house to see the robins, discovered raggedy ann peeping over the limb at her. [illustration] oh, how her heart beat with happiness. "here is raggedy ann," she shouted. and mamma and daddy came out and saw raggedy smiling at them, and daddy got the clothes prop and climbed out of the attic window and poked raggedy ann out of the tree and she fell right into marcella's arms where she was hugged in a tight embrace. "you'll never go up on a kite again, raggedy ann!" said marcella, "for i felt so lost without you. i will never let you leave me again." so raggedy ann went into the house and had breakfast with her little mistress and mamma and daddy smiled at each other when they peeped through the door into the breakfast room, for raggedy ann's smile was wide and very yellow. marcella, her heart full of happiness, was feeding raggedy ann part of her egg. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann rescues fido it was almost midnight and the dolls were asleep in their beds; all except raggedy ann. raggedy lay there, her shoe-button eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. every once in a while raggedy ann ran her rag hand up through her yarn hair. she was thinking. when she had thought for a long, long time, raggedy ann raised herself on her wabbly elbows and said, "i've thought it all out." at this the other dolls shook each other and raised up saying, "listen! raggedy has thought it all out!" "tell us what you have been thinking, dear raggedy," said the tin soldier. "we hope they were pleasant thoughts." "not very pleasant thoughts!" said raggedy, as she brushed a tear from her shoe-button eyes. "you haven't seen fido all day, have you?" "not since early this morning," the french dolly said. "it has troubled me," said raggedy, "and if my head was not stuffed with lovely new white cotton, i am sure it would have ached with the worry! when mistress took me into the living-room this afternoon she was crying, and i heard her mamma say, 'we will find him! he is sure to come home soon!' and i knew they were talking of fido! he must be lost!" the tin soldier jumped out of bed and ran over to fido's basket, his tin feet clicking on the floor as he went. "he is not here," he said. "when i was sitting in the window about noon-time," said the indian doll, "i saw fido and a yellow scraggly dog playing out on the lawn and they ran out through a hole in the fence!" "that was priscilla's dog, peterkins!" said the french doll. "i know poor mistress is very sad on account of fido," said the dutch doll, "because i was in the dining-room at supper-time and i heard her daddy tell her to eat her supper and he would go out and find fido; but i had forgotten all about it until now." "that is the trouble with all of us except raggedy ann!" cried the little penny doll, in a squeaky voice, "she has to think for all of us!" "i think it would be a good plan for us to show our love for mistress and try and find fido!" exclaimed raggedy. "it is a good plan, raggedy ann!" cried all the dolls. "tell us how to start about it." "well, first let us go out upon the lawn and see if we can track the dogs!" said raggedy. "i can track them easily!" the indian doll said, "for indians are good at trailing things!" "then let us waste no more time in talking!" said raggedy ann, as she jumped from bed, followed by the rest. the nursery window was open, so the dolls helped each other up on the sill and then jumped to the soft grass below. they fell in all sorts of queer attitudes, but of course the fall did not hurt them. at the hole in the fence the indian doll picked up the trail of the two dogs, and the dolls, stringing out behind, followed him until they came to peterkins' house. peterkins was surprised to see the strange little figures in white nighties come stringing up the path to the dog house. [illustration] [illustration] peterkins was too large to sleep in the nursery, so he had a nice cozy dog-house under the grape arbor. "come in," peterkins said when he saw and recognized the dolls, so all the dollies went into peterkins' house and sat about while raggedy told him why they had come. "it has worried me, too!" said peterkins, "but i had no way of telling your mistress where fido was, for she cannot understand dog language! for you see," peterkins continued, "fido and i were having the grandest romp over in the park when a great big man with a funny thing on the end of a stick came running towards us. we barked at him and fido thought he was trying to play with us and went up too close and do you know, that wicked man caught fido in the thing at the end of the stick and carried him to a wagon and dumped him in with a lot of other dogs!" "_the dog catcher!_" cried raggedy ann. "yes!" said peterkins, as he wiped his eyes with his paws. "it was the dog catcher! for i followed the wagon at a distance and i saw him put all the dogs into a big wire pen, so that none could get out!" "then you know the way there, peterkins?" asked raggedy ann. "yes, i can find it easily," peterkins said. "then show us the way!" raggedy ann cried, "for we must try to rescue fido." so peterkins led the way up alleys and across streets, the dolls all pattering along behind him. it was a strange procession. once a strange dog ran out at them, but peterkins told him to mind his own business and the strange dog returned to his own yard. at last they came to the dog catcher's place. some of the dogs in the pen were barking at the moon and others were whining and crying. [illustration] there was fido, all covered with mud, and his pretty red ribbon dragging on the ground. my, but he was glad to see the dolls and peterkins! all the dogs came to the side of the pen and twisted their heads from side to side, gazing in wonder at the queer figures of the dolls. "we will try and let you out," said raggedy ann. at this all the dogs barked joyfully. then raggedy ann, the other dolls and peterkins went to the gate. the catch was too high for raggedy ann to reach, but peterkins held raggedy ann in his mouth and stood up on his hind legs so that she could raise the catch. when the catch was raised, the dogs were so anxious to get out they pushed and jumped against the gate so hard it flew open, knocking peterkins and raggedy ann into the mud. such a yapping and barking was never heard in the neighborhood as when the dogs swarmed out of the enclosure, jumping over one another and scrambling about in the mad rush out the gate. fido picked himself up from where he had been rolled by the large dogs and helped raggedy ann to her feet. he, peterkins, and all the dolls ran after the pack of dogs, turning the corner just as the dog catcher came running out of the house in his nightgown to see what was causing the trouble. he stopped in astonishment when he saw the string of dolls in white nighties pattering down the alley, for he could not imagine what they were. well, you may be sure the dolls thanked peterkins for his kind assistance and they and fido ran on home, for a faint light was beginning to show in the east where the sun was getting ready to come up. when they got to their own home they found an old chair out in the yard and after a great deal of work they finally dragged it to the window and thus managed to get into the nursery again. fido was very grateful to raggedy ann and the other dolls and before he went to his basket he gave them each a lick on the cheek. [illustration] the dolls lost no time in scrambling into bed and pulling up the covers, for they were very sleepy, but just as they were dozing off, raggedy ann raised herself and said, "if my legs and arms were not stuffed with nice clean cotton i feel sure they would ache, but being stuffed with nice clean white cotton, they do not ache and i could not feel happier if my body were stuffed with sunshine, for i know how pleased and happy mistress will be in the morning when she discovers fido asleep in his own little basket, safe and sound at home." and as the dollies by this time were all asleep, raggedy ann pulled the sheet up to her chin and smiled so hard she ripped two stitches out of the back of her rag head. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann and the painter when housecleaning time came around, mistress' mamma decided that she would have the nursery repainted and new paper put upon the walls. that was why all the dolls happened to be laid helter-skelter upon one of the high shelves. mistress had been in to look at them and wished to put them to bed, but as the painters were coming again in the early morning, mamma thought it best that their beds be piled in the closet. so the dolls' beds were piled into the closet, one on top of another and the dolls were placed upon the high shelf. when all was quiet that night, raggedy ann who was on the bottom of the pile of dolls spoke softly and asked the others if they would mind moving along the shelf. "the cotton in my body is getting mashed as flat as a pancake!" said raggedy ann. and although the tin soldier was piled so that his foot was pressed into raggedy's face, she still wore her customary smile. so the dolls began moving off to one side until raggedy ann was free to sit up. "ah, that's a great deal better!" she said, stretching her arms and legs to get the kinks out of them, and patting her dress into shape. "well, i'll be glad when morning comes!" she said finally, "for i know mistress will take us out in the yard and play with us under the trees." so the dolls sat and talked until daylight, when the painters came to work. one of the painters, a young fellow, seeing the dolls, reached up and took raggedy ann down from the shelf. "look at this rag doll, jim," he said to one of the other painters, "she's a daisy," and he took raggedy ann by the hands and danced with her while he whistled a lively tune. raggedy ann's heels hit the floor thumpity-thump and she enjoyed it immensely. the other dolls sat upon the shelf and looked straight before them, for it would never do to let grown-up men know that dolls were really alive. "better put her back upon the shelf," said one of the other men. "you'll have the little girl after you! the chances are that she likes that old rag doll better than any of the others!" but the young painter twisted raggedy ann into funny attitudes and laughed and laughed as she looped about. finally he got to tossing her up in the air and catching her. this was great fun for raggedy and as she sailed up by the shelf the dolls all smiled at her, for it pleased them whenever raggedy ann was happy. but the young fellow threw raggedy ann up into the air once too often and when she came down he failed to catch her and she came down _splash_, head first into a bucket of oily paint. "i told you!" said the older painter, "and now you are in for it!" "my goodness! i didn't mean to do it!" said the young fellow, "what had i better do with her?" "better put her back on the shelf!" replied the other. so raggedy was placed back upon the shelf and the paint ran from her head and trickled down upon her dress. [illustration] [illustration] after breakfast, mistress came into the nursery and saw raggedy all covered with paint and she began crying. the young painter felt sorry and told her how it had happened. "if you will let me," he said, "i will take her home with me and will clean her up tonight and will bring her back day after tomorrow." so raggedy was wrapped in a newspaper that evening and carried away. all the dolls felt sad that night without raggedy ann near them. "poor raggedy! i could have cried when i saw her all covered with paint!" said the french doll. "she didn't look like our dear old raggedy ann at all!" said the tin soldier, who wiped the tears from his eyes so that they would not run down on his arms and rust them. "the paint covered her lovely smile and nose and you could not see the laughter in her shoe-button eyes!" said the indian doll. and so the dolls talked that night and the next. but in the daytime when the painters were there, they kept very quiet. the second day raggedy was brought home and the dolls were all anxious for night to come so that they could see and talk with raggedy ann. at last the painters left and the house was quiet, for mistress had been in and placed raggedy on the shelf with the other dolls. "tell us all about it, raggedy dear!" the dolls cried. "oh i am so glad i fell in the paint!" cried raggedy, after she had hugged all the dolls, "for i have had the happiest time. the painter took me home and told his mamma how i happened to be covered with paint and she was very sorry. she took a rag and wiped off my shoe-button eyes and then i saw that she was a very pretty, sweet-faced lady and she got some cleaner and wiped off most of the paint on my face. [illustration] "but you know," raggedy continued, "the paint had soaked through my rag head and had made the cotton inside all sticky and soggy and i could not think clearly. and my yarn hair was all matted with paint. "so the kind lady took off my yarn hair and cut the stitches out of my head, and took out all the painty cotton. "it was a great relief, although it felt queer at first and my thoughts seemed scattered. "she left me in her work-basket that night and hung me out upon the clothes-line the next morning when she had washed the last of the paint off. "and while i hung out on the clothes-line, what do you think?" "we could never guess!" all the dolls cried. "why a dear little jenny wren came and picked enough cotton out of me to make a cute little cuddly nest in the grape arbor!" "wasn't that sweet!" cried all the dolls. "yes indeed it was!" replied raggedy ann, "it made me very happy. then when the lady took me in the house again she stuffed me with lovely nice new cotton, all the way from my knees up and sewed me up and put new yarn on my head for hair and--and--and it's a secret!" said raggedy ann. "oh tell us the secret!" cried all the dolls, as they pressed closer to raggedy. "well, i know you will not tell anyone who would not be glad to know about it, so i will tell you the secret and why i am wearing my smile a trifle broader!" said raggedy ann. the dolls all said that raggedy ann's smile was indeed a quarter of an inch wider on each side. [illustration] "when the dear lady put the new white cotton in my body," said raggedy ann "she went to the cupboard and came back with a paper bag. and she took from the bag ten or fifteen little candy hearts with mottos on them and she hunted through the candy hearts until she found a beautiful red one which she sewed up in me with the cotton! so that is the secret, and that is why i am so happy! feel here," said raggedy ann. all the dolls could feel raggedy ann's beautiful new candy heart and they were very happy for her. after all had hugged each other good night and had cuddled up for the night, the tin soldier asked, "did you have a chance to see what the motto on your new candy heart was, raggedy ann?" "oh yes," replied raggedy ann, "i was so happy i forgot to tell you. it had printed upon it in nice blue letters, 'i love you.'" [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann's trip on the river when marcella had a tea party out in the orchard, of course all of the dolls were invited. raggedy ann, the tin soldier, the indian doll and all the others--even the four little penny dolls in the spool box. after a lovely tea party with ginger cookies and milk, of course the dolls were very sleepy, at least marcella thought so, so she took all except raggedy ann into the house and put them to bed for the afternoon nap. then marcella told raggedy ann to stay there and watch the things. as there was nothing else to do, raggedy ann waited for marcella to return. and as she watched the little ants eating cookie crumbs marcella had thrown to them, she heard all of a sudden the patter of puppy feet behind her. it was fido. the puppy dog ran up to raggedy ann and twisted his head about as he looked at her. then he put his front feet out and barked in raggedy ann's face. raggedy ann tried to look very stern, but she could not hide the broad smile painted on her face. "oh, you want to play, do you?" the puppy dog barked, as he jumped at raggedy ann and then jumped back again. the more raggedy ann smiled, the livelier fido's antics became, until finally he caught the end of her dress and dragged her about. this was great fun for the puppy dog, but raggedy ann did not enjoy it. she kicked and twisted as much as she could, but the puppy dog thought raggedy was playing. he ran out the garden gate and down the path across the meadow, every once in a while stopping and pretending he was very angry. when he pretended this, fido would give raggedy ann a great shaking, making her yarn head hit the ground "ratty-tat-tat." then he would give his head a toss and send raggedy ann high in the air where she would turn over two or three times before she reached the ground. by this time, she had lost her apron and now some of her yarn hair was coming loose. as fido neared the brook, another puppy dog came running across the foot-bridge to meet him. "what have you there, fido?" said the new puppy dog as he bounced up to raggedy ann. "this is raggedy ann," answered fido. "she and i are having a lovely time playing." you see, fido really thought raggedy enjoyed being tossed around and whirled high up in the air. but of course she didn't. however, the game didn't last much longer. as raggedy ann hit the ground the new puppy dog caught her dress and ran with her across the bridge, fido barking close behind him. in the center of the bridge, fido caught up with the new puppy dog and they had a lively tug-of-war with raggedy ann stretched between then. as they pulled and tugged and flopped raggedy ann about, somehow she fell over the side of the bridge into the water. the puppy dogs were surprised, and fido was very sorry indeed, for he remembered how good raggedy ann had been to him and how she had rescued him from the dog-pound. but the current carried raggedy ann right along and all fido could do was to run along the bank and bark. [illustration] [illustration] now, you would have thought raggedy ann would sink, but no, she floated nicely, for she was stuffed with clean white cotton and the water didn't soak through very quickly. after a while, the strange puppy and fido grew tired of running along the bank and the strange puppy scampered home over the meadow, with his tail carried gaily over his back as if he had nothing to be ashamed of. but fido walked home very sorry indeed. his little heart was broken to think that he had caused raggedy ann to be drowned. but raggedy ann didn't drown--not a bit of it. in fact, she even went to sleep on the brook, for the motion of the current was very soothing as it carried her along--just like being rocked by marcella. so, sleeping peacefully, raggedy ann drifted along with the current until she came to a pool where she lodged against a large stone. raggedy ann tried to climb upon the stone, but by this time the water had thoroughly soaked through raggedy ann's nice, clean, white cotton stuffing and she was so heavy she could not climb. so there she had to stay until marcella and daddy came along and found her. you see, they had been looking for her. they had found pieces of her apron all along the path and across the meadow where fido and the strange puppy dog had shaken them from raggedy ann. so they followed the brook until they found her. when daddy fished raggedy ann from the water, marcella hugged her so tightly to her breast the water ran from raggedy ann and dripped all over marcella's apron. but marcella was so glad to find raggedy ann again she didn't mind it a bit. she just hurried home and took off all of raggedy ann's wet clothes and placed her on a little red chair in front of the oven door, and then brought all of the other dolls in and read a fairy tale to them while raggedy ann steamed and dried. [illustration] when raggedy ann was thoroughly dry, mamma said she thought the cake must be finished and she took from the oven a lovely chocolate cake and gave marcella a large piece to have another tea party with. that night when all the house was asleep, raggedy ann raised up in bed and said to the dolls who were still awake, "i am so happy i do not feel a bit sleepy. do you know, i believe the water soaked me so thoroughly my candy heart must have melted and filled my whole body, and i do not feel the least bit angry with fido for playing with me so roughly!" so all the other dolls were happy, too, for happiness is very easy to catch when we love one another and are sweet all through. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann and the strange dolls raggedy ann lay just as marcella had dropped her--all sprawled out with her rag arms and legs twisted in ungraceful attitudes. her yarn hair was twisted and lay partly over her face, hiding one of her shoe-button eyes. raggedy gave no sign that she had heard, but lay there smiling at the ceiling. perhaps raggedy ann knew that what the new dolls said was true. but sometimes the truth may hurt and this may have been the reason raggedy ann lay there so still. "did you ever see such an ungainly creature!" "i do believe it has shoe buttons for eyes!" "and yarn hair!" "mercy, did you ever see such feet!" the dutch doll rolled off the doll sofa and said "mamma" in his quavery voice, he was so surprised at hearing anyone speak so of beloved raggedy ann--dear raggedy ann, she of the candy heart, whom all the dolls loved. uncle clem was also very much surprised and offended. he walked up in front of the two new dolls and looked them sternly in the eyes, but he could think of nothing to say so he pulled at his yarn mustache. marcella had only received the two new dolls that morning. they had come in the morning mail and were presents from an aunt. marcella had named the two new dolls annabel-lee and thomas, after her aunt and uncle. annabel-lee and thomas were beautiful dolls and must have cost heaps and heaps of shiny pennies, for both were handsomely dressed and had _real_ hair! annabel's hair was of a lovely shade of auburn and thomas' was golden yellow. annabel was dressed in soft, lace-covered silk and upon her head she wore a beautiful hat with long silk ribbons tied in a neat bow-knot beneath her dimpled chin. thomas was dressed in an oliver twist suit of dark velvet with a lace collar. both he and annabel wore lovely black slippers and short stockings. they were sitting upon two of the little red doll chairs where marcella had placed them and where they could see the other dolls. when uncle clem walked in front of them and pulled his mustache they laughed outright. "tee-hee-hee!" they snickered, "he has holes in his knees!" quite true. uncle clem was made of worsted and the moths had eaten his knees and part of his kiltie. he had a kiltie, you see, for uncle clem was a scotch doll. uncle clem shook, but he felt so hurt he could think of nothing to say. he walked over and sat down beside raggedy ann and brushed her yarn hair away from her shoe-button eye. the tin soldier went over and sat beside them. "don't you mind what they say, raggedy!" he said, "they do not know you as we do!" "we don't care to know her!" said annabel-lee as she primped her dress, "she looks like a scarecrow!" "and the soldier must have been made with a can opener!" laughed thomas. [illustration] [illustration] "you should be ashamed of yourselves!" said the french dolly, as she stood before annabel and thomas, "you will make all of us sorry that you have joined our family if you continue to poke fun at us and look down upon us. we are all happy here together and share in each others' adventures and happiness." now, that night marcella did not undress the two new dolls, for she had no nighties for them, so she let them sit up in the two little red doll chairs so they would not muss their clothes. "i will make nighties for you tomorrow!" she said as she kissed them good night. then she went over and gave raggedy ann a good night hug. "take good care of all my children, raggedy!" she said as she went out. annabel and thomas whispered together, "perhaps we have been too hasty in our judgment!" said annabel-lee. "this raggedy ann seems to be a favorite with the mistress and with all the dolls!" "there must be a reason!" replied thomas, "i am beginning to feel sorry that we spoke of her looks. one really cannot help one's looks after all." now, annabel-lee and thomas were very tired after their long journey and soon they fell asleep and forgot all about the other dolls. when they were sound asleep, raggedy ann slipped quietly from her bed and awakened the tin soldier and uncle clem and the three tiptoed to the two beautiful new dolls. they lifted them gently so as not to awaken them and carried them to raggedy ann's bed. raggedy ann tucked them in snugly and lay down upon the hard floor. the tin soldier and uncle clem both tried to coax raggedy ann into accepting their bed (they slept together), but raggedy ann would not hear of it. "i am stuffed with nice soft cotton and the hard floor does not bother me at all!" said raggedy. [illustration] at daybreak the next morning annabel and thomas awakened to find themselves in raggedy ann's bed and as they raised up and looked at each other each knew how ashamed the other felt, for they knew raggedy ann had generously given them her bed. there raggedy ann lay; all sprawled out upon the hard floor, her rag arms and legs twisted in ungraceful attitudes. "how good and honest she looks!" said annabel. "it must be her shoe-button eyes!" "how nicely her yarn hair falls in loops over her face!" exclaimed thomas, "i did not notice how pleasant her face looked last night!" "the others seem to love her ever and ever so much!" mused annabel. "it must be because she is so kind." both new dolls were silent for a while, thinking deeply. "how do you feel?" thomas finally asked. "very much ashamed of myself!" answered annabel, "and you, thomas?" "as soon as raggedy ann awakens, i shall tell her just how much ashamed i am of myself and if she can, i want her to forgive me!" thomas said. "the more i look at her, the better i like her!" said annabel. "i am going to kiss her!" said thomas. "you'll awaken her if you do!" said annabel. but thomas climbed out of bed and kissed raggedy ann on her painted cheek and smoothed her yarn hair from her rag forehead. and annabel-lee climbed out of bed, too, and kissed raggedy ann. then thomas and annabel-lee gently carried raggedy ann and put her in her own bed and tenderly tucked her in, and then took their seats in the two little red chairs. after a while annabel said softly to thomas, "i feel ever and ever so much better and happier!" [illustration] "so do i!" thomas replied. "it's like a whole lot of sunshine coming into a dark room, and i shall always try to keep it there!" fido had one fuzzy white ear sticking up over the edge of his basket and he gave his tail a few thumps against his pillow. raggedy ann lay quietly in bed where thomas and annabel had tucked her. and as she smiled at the ceiling, her candy heart (with "i love you" written on it) thrilled with contentment, for, as you have probably guessed, raggedy ann had not been asleep at all! [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann and the kittens raggedy ann had been away all day. marcella had come early in the morning and dressed all the dolls and placed them about the nursery. some of the dolls had been put in the little red chairs around the little doll table. there was nothing to eat upon the table except a turkey, a fried egg and an apple, all made of plaster of paris and painted in natural colors. the little teapot and other doll dishes were empty, but marcella had told them to enjoy their dinner while she was away. the french dolly had been given a seat upon the doll sofa and uncle clem had been placed at the piano. marcella picked up raggedy ann and carried her out of the nursery when she left, telling the dolls to "be real good children, while mamma is away!" when the door closed, the tin soldier winked at the dutch-boy doll and handed the imitation turkey to the penny dolls. "have some nice turkey?" he asked. "no thank you!" the penny dolls said in little penny-doll, squeaky voices, "we have had all we can eat!" "shall i play you a tune?" asked uncle clem of the french doll. at this all the dolls laughed, for uncle clem could not begin to play any tune. raggedy ann was the only doll who had ever taken lessons, and she could play peter-peter-pumpkin-eater with one hand. in fact, marcella had almost worn out raggedy ann's right hand teaching it to her. "play something lively!" said the french doll, as she giggled behind her hand, so uncle clem began hammering the eight keys on the toy piano with all his might until a noise was heard upon the stairs. quick as a wink, all the dolls took the same positions in which they had been placed by marcella, for they did not wish really truly people to know that they could move about. but it was only fido. he put his nose in the door and looked around. all the dolls at the table looked steadily at the painted food, and uncle clem leaned upon the piano keys looking just as unconcerned as when he had been placed there. then fido pushed the door open and came into the nursery wagging his tail. he walked over to the table and sniffed, in hopes marcella had given the dolls real food and that some would still be left. "where's raggedy ann?" fido asked, when he had satisfied himself that there was no food. "mistress took raggedy ann and went somewhere!" all the dolls answered in chorus. "i've found something i must tell raggedy ann about!" said fido, as he scratched his ear. "is it a secret?" asked the penny dolls. "secret nothing," replied fido, "it's kittens!" "how lovely!" cried all the dolls, "really live kittens?" "really live kittens!" replied fido, "three little tiny ones, out in the barn!" "oh, i wish raggedy ann was here!" cried the french doll. "she would know what to do about it!" [illustration] "that's why i wanted to see her," said fido, as he thumped his tail on the floor, "i did not know there were any kittens and i went into the barn to hunt for mice and the first thing i knew mamma cat came bouncing right at me with her eyes looking green! i tell you i hurried out of there!" [illustration] "how did you know there were any kittens then?" asked uncle clem. "i waited around the barn until mamma cat went up to the house and then i slipped into the barn again, for i knew there must be something inside or she would not have jumped at me that way! we are always very friendly, you know." fido continued. "and what was my surprise to find three tiny little kittens in an old basket, 'way back in a dark corner!" "go get them, fido, and bring them up so we can see them!" said the tin soldier. "not me!" said fido, "if i had a suit of tin clothes on like you have i might do it, but you know cats can scratch very hard if they want to!" "we will tell raggedy when she comes in!" said the french doll, and then fido went out to play with a neighbor dog. so when raggedy ann had been returned to the nursery the dolls could hardly wait until marcella had put on their nighties and left them for the night. then they told raggedy ann all about the kittens. raggedy ann jumped from her bed and ran over to fido's basket; he wasn't there. then raggedy suggested that all the dolls go out to the barn and see the kittens. this they did easily, for the window was open and it was but a short jump to the ground. they found fido out near the barn watching a hole. "i was afraid something might disturb them," he said, "for mamma cat went away about an hour ago." all the dolls, with raggedy ann in the lead, crawled through the hole and ran to the basket. [illustration] just as raggedy ann started to pick up one of the kittens there was a lot of howling and yelping and fido came bounding through the hole with mamma cat behind him. when mamma cat caught up with fido he would yelp. when fido and mamma cat had circled the barn two or three times fido managed to find the hole and escape to the yard; then mamma cat came over to the basket and saw all the dolls. "i'm s'prised at you, mamma cat!" said raggedy ann, "fido has been watching your kittens for an hour while you were away. he wouldn't hurt them for anything!" "i'm sorry, then," said mamma cat. "you must trust fido, mamma cat!" said raggedy ann, "because he loves you and anyone who loves you can be trusted!" "that's so!" replied mamma cat. "cats love mice, too, and i wish the mice trusted us more!" the dolls all laughed at this joke. "have you told the folks up at the house about your dear little kittens?" raggedy ann asked. "oh, my, no!" exclaimed mamma cat. "at the last place i lived the people found out about my kittens and do you know, all the kittens disappeared! i intend keeping this a secret!" "but all the folks at this house are very kindly people and would dearly love your kittens!" cried all the dolls. "let's take them right up to the nursery!" said raggedy ann, "and mistress can find them there in the morning!" "how lovely!" said all the dolls in chorus. "do, mamma cat! raggedy ann knows, for she is stuffed with nice clean white cotton and is very wise!" so after a great deal of persuasion, mamma cat finally consented. raggedy ann took two of the kittens and carried them to the house while mamma cat carried the other. raggedy ann wanted to give the kittens her bed, but fido, who was anxious to prove his affection, insisted that mamma cat and the kittens should have his nice soft basket. [illustration] the dolls could hardly sleep that night; they were so anxious to see what mistress would say when she found the dear little kittens in the morning. raggedy ann did not sleep a wink, for she shared her bed with fido and he kept her awake whispering to her. in the morning when marcella came to the nursery, the first thing she saw was the three little kittens. she cried out in delight and carried them all down to show to mamma and daddy. mamma cat went trailing along, arching her back and purring with pride as she rubbed against all the chairs and doors. mamma and daddy said the kittens could stay in the nursery and belong to marcella, so marcella took them back to fido's basket while she hunted names for them out of a fairy tale book. marcella finally decided upon three names; prince charming for the white kitty, cinderella for the maltese and princess golden for the kitty with the yellow stripes. so that is how the three little kittens came to live in the nursery. and it all turned out just as raggedy ann had said, for her head was stuffed with clean white cotton, and she could think exceedingly wise thoughts. and mamma cat found out that fido was a very good friend, too. she grew to trust him so much she would even let him help wash the kittens' faces. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann and the fairies' gift all the dolls were tucked snugly in their little doll-beds for the night and the large house was very still. every once in a while fido would raise one ear and partly open one eye, for his keen dog sense seemed to tell him that something was about to happen. finally he opened both eyes, sniffed into the air and, getting out of his basket and shaking himself, he trotted across the nursery to raggedy ann's bed. fido put his cold nose in raggedy ann's neck. she raised her head from the little pillow. "oh! it's you, fido!" said raggedy ann. "i dreamed the tin soldier put an icicle down my neck!" "i can't sleep," fido told raggedy ann. "i feel that something is about to happen!" "you have been eating too many bones lately, fido, and they keep you awake," raggedy replied. "no, it isn't that. i haven't had any bones since the folks had beef last sunday. it isn't that. listen, raggedy!" raggedy ann listened. there was a murmur as if someone were singing, far away. "what is it?" asked fido. "sh!" cautioned raggedy ann, "it's music." it was indeed music, the most beautiful music raggedy ann had ever heard. it grew louder, but still seemed to be _far_ away. raggedy ann and fido could hear it distinctly and it sounded as if hundreds of voices were singing in unison. "please don't howl, fido," raggedy ann said as she put her two rag arms around the dog's nose. fido usually "sang" when he heard music. but fido did not sing this time; he was filled with wonder. it seemed as if something very nice was going to happen. raggedy ann sat upright in bed. the room was flooded with a strange, beautiful light and the music came floating in through the nursery window. raggedy ann hopped from her bed and ran across the floor, trailing the bed clothes behind her. fido followed close behind and together they looked out the window across the flower garden. there among the flowers were hundreds of tiny beings, some playing on tiny reed instruments and flower horns, while others sang. this was the strange, wonderful music raggedy and fido had heard. "it's the fairies!" said raggedy ann. "to your basket quick, fido! they are coming this way!" and raggedy ann ran back to her bed, with the bed clothes trailing behind her. fido gave three jumps and he was in his basket, pretending he was sound asleep, but one little black eye was peeping through a chink in the side. raggedy jumped into her bed and pulled the covers to her chin, but lay so that her shoe-button eyes could see towards the window. [illustration] little fairy forms radiant as silver came flitting into the nursery, singing in far away voices. they carried a little bundle. a beautiful light came from this bundle, and to raggedy ann and fido it seemed like sunshine and moonshine mixed. it was a soft mellow light, just the sort of light you would expect to accompany fairy folk. [illustration] as raggedy watched, her candy heart went pitty-pat against her cotton stuffing, for she saw a tiny pink foot sticking out of the bundle of light. the fairy troop sailed across the nursery and through the door with their bundle and raggedy ann and fido listened to their far away music as they went down the hall. presently the fairies returned without the bundle and disappeared through the nursery window. raggedy ann and fido again ran to the window and saw the fairy troop dancing among the flowers. the light from the bundle still hung about the nursery and a strange lovely perfume floated about. when the fairies' music ceased and they had flown away, raggedy ann and fido returned to raggedy's bed to think it all out. when old mister sun peeped over the garden wall and into the nursery, and the other dolls awakened, raggedy ann and fido were still puzzled. "what is it, raggedy ann?" asked the tin soldier and uncle clem, in one voice. before raggedy ann could answer, marcella came running into the nursery, gathered up all the dolls in her arms, and ran down the hall, fido jumping beside her and barking shrilly. "be quiet!" marcella said to fido, "it's asleep and you might awaken it!" mamma helped marcella arrange all the dolls in a circle around the bed so that they could all see what was in the bundle. mamma gently pulled back the soft covering and the dolls saw a tiny little fist as pink as coral, a soft little face with a cunning tiny pink nose, and a little head as bald as the french dolly's when her hair came off. my, how the dollies all chattered when they were once again left alone in the nursery! [illustration] "a dear cuddly baby brother for mistress!" said uncle clem. "a beautiful bundle of love and fairy sunshine for everybody in the house!" said raggedy ann, as she went to the toy piano and joyously played "peter-peter-pumpkin-eater" with one rag hand. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann and the chickens when marcella was called into the house she left raggedy sitting on the chicken yard fence. "now you sit quietly and do not stir," marcella told raggedy ann, "if you move you may fall and hurt yourself!" so, raggedy ann sat quietly, just as marcella told her, but she smiled at the chickens for she had fallen time and again and it had never hurt her in the least. she was stuffed with nice soft cotton, you see. so, there she sat until a tiny little humming-bird, in search of flower honey hummed close to raggedy ann's head and hovered near the tall hollyhocks. raggedy ann turned her rag head to see the humming-bird and lost her balance--_plump!_ she went, down amongst the chickens. the chickens scattered in all directions, all except old ironsides, the rooster. he ruffled his neck feathers and put his head down close to the ground, making a queer whistling noise as he looked fiercely at raggedy ann. but raggedy ann only smiled at old ironsides, the rooster, and ran her rag hand through her yarn hair for she did not fear him. and then something strange happened, for when she made this motion the old rooster jumped up in the air and kicked his feet out in front, knocking raggedy ann over and over. when raggedy ann stopped rolling she waved her apron at the rooster and cried, "shoo!" but instead of "shooing," old ironsides upset her again. now, two old hens who had been watching the rooster jump at raggedy ran up and as one old hen placed herself before the rooster, the other old hen caught hold of raggedy's apron and dragged her into the chicken-coop. it was dark inside and raggedy could not tell what was going on as she felt herself being pulled up over the nests. but, finally raggedy could sit up, for the old hen had quit pulling her, and as her shoe-button eyes were very good, she soon made out the shape of the old hen in front of her. "my! that's the hardest work i have done in a long time!" said the old hen, when she could catch her breath. "i was afraid mr. rooster would tear your dress and apron!" "that was a queer game he was playing, mrs. hen," said raggedy ann. the old hen chuckled 'way down in her throat, "gracious me! he wasn't playing a game, he was fighting you!" "fighting!" cried raggedy ann in surprise. "oh yes, indeed!" the old hen answered, "old ironsides, the rooster, thought you intended to harm some of the children chickens and he was fighting you!" "i am sorry that i fell inside the pen, i wouldn't harm anything," raggedy ann said. "if we tell you a secret you must promise not to tell your mistress!" said the old hens. "i promise! cross my candy heart!" said raggedy ann. then the two old hens took raggedy ann 'way back in the farthest corner of the chicken coop. there, in back of a box, they had built two nests and each old hen had ten eggs in her nest. "if your folks hear of it they will take the eggs!" said the hens, "and then we could not raise our families!" [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann felt the eggs and they were nice and warm. "we just left the nests when you fell into the pen!" explained the old hens. "but how can the eggs grow if you sit upon them?" said raggedy. "if fido sits on any of the garden, the plants will not grow, mistress says!" "eggs are different!" one old hen explained. "in order to make the eggs hatch properly, we must sit on them three weeks and not let them get cold at any time!" "and at the end of the three weeks do the eggs sprout?" asked raggedy ann. "you must be thinking of eggplant!" cried one old hen. "these eggs hatch at the end of three weeks--they don't sprout--and then we have a lovely family of soft downy chickies; little puff balls that we can cuddle under our wings and love dearly!" "have you been sitting upon the eggs very long?" raggedy asked. "neither one of us has kept track of the time," said one hen. "so we do not know! you see, we never leave the nests only just once in a while to get a drink and to eat a little. so we can hardly tell when it is day and when it is night." "we were going out to get a drink when you fell in the pen!" said one old hen. "now we will have to sit upon the eggs and warm them up again!" the two old hens spread their feathers and nestled down upon the nests. "when you get them good and warm, i would be glad to sit upon the eggs to keep them warm until you get something to eat and drink!" said raggedy. so the two old hens walked out of the coop to finish their meal which had been interrupted by raggedy's fall and while they were gone, raggedy ann sat quietly upon the warm eggs. suddenly down beneath her she heard something go, "pick, pick!" "i hope it isn't a mouse!" raggedy ann said to herself, when she felt something move. "i wish the old hens would come back." but when they came back and saw the puzzled expression on her face, they cried, "what is it?" [illustration] raggedy ann got to her feet and looked down and there were several little fluffy, cuddly baby chickies, round as little puff-balls. "cheep! cheep! cheep!" they cried when raggedy stepped out of the nest. "baby chicks!" raggedy cried, as she stooped and picked up one of the little puff-balls. "they want to be cuddled!" the two old hens, their eyes shining with happiness, got upon the nests and spread out their soft warm feathers, "the other eggs will hatch soon!" said they. so, for several days raggedy helped the two hens hatch out the rest of the chickies and just as they finished, marcella came inside looking around. "how in the world did you get in here, raggedy ann?" she cried. "i have been looking all about for you! did the chickens drag you in here?" both old hens down behind the box clucked softly to the chickies beneath them and marcella overheard them. she lifted the box away and gave a little squeal of surprise and happiness. "oh you dear old hennypennies!" she cried, lifting both old hens from their nests. "you have hidden your nests away back here and now you have one, two, three, four--twenty chickies!" and as she counted them, marcella placed them in her apron; then catching up raggedy ann, she placed her over the new little chickies. "come on, old hennypennies!" she said, and went out of the coop with the two old hens clucking at her heels. marcella called daddy and daddy rolled two barrels out under one of the trees and made a nice bed in each. then he nailed slats across the front, leaving a place for a door. each hennypennie was then given ten little chickies and shut up in the barrel. and all the dolls were happy when they heard of raggedy's adventure and they did not have to wait long before they were all taken out to see the new chickies. [illustration] raggedy ann and the mouse jeanette was a new wax doll, and like henny, the dutch doll, she could say "mamma" when anyone tipped her backward or forward. she had lovely golden brown curls of real hair. it could be combed and braided, or curled or fluffed without tangling, and raggedy ann was very proud when jeanette came to live with the dolls. but now raggedy ann was very angry--in fact, raggedy ann had just ripped two stitches out of the top of her head when she took her rag hands and pulled her rag face down into a frown (but when she let go of the frown her face stretched right back into her usual cheery smile). and _you_ would have been angry, too, for something had happened to jeanette. something or someone had stolen into the nursery that night when the dolls were asleep and nibbled all the wax from jeanette's beautiful face--and now all her beauty was gone! "it really is a shame!" said raggedy ann as she put her arms about jeanette. "something must be done about it!" said the french doll as she stamped her little foot. "if i catch the culprit, i will--well, i don't know what i will do with him!" said the tin soldier, who could be very fierce at times, although he was seldom cross. "here is the hole he came from!" cried uncle clem from the other end of the nursery. "come, see!" all the dolls ran to where uncle clem was, down on his hands and knees. "this must be the place!" said raggedy ann. "we will plug up the hole with something, so he will not come out again!" the dolls hunted around and brought rags and pieces of paper and pushed them into the mouse's doorway. "i thought i heard nibbling last night," one of the penny dolls said. "you know i begged for an extra piece of pie last evening, when mistress had me at the table and it kept me awake!" while the dolls were talking, marcella ran down-stairs with jeanette and told daddy and mamma, who came up-stairs with marcella and hunted around until they discovered the mouse's doorway. "oh, why couldn't it have chewed on me?" raggedy ann asked herself when she saw marcella's sorrowful face, for raggedy ann was never selfish. "daddy will take jeanette down-town with him and have her fixed up as good as new," said mamma, so jeanette was wrapped in soft tissue paper and taken away. later in the day marcella came bouncing into the nursery with a surprise for the dolls. it was a dear fuzzy little kitten. marcella introduced the kitten to all the dolls. "her name is boots, because she has four little white feet!" said marcella. so boots, the happy little creature, played with the penny dolls, scraping them over the floor and peeping out from behind chairs and pouncing upon them as if they were mice and the penny dolls enjoyed it hugely. when marcella was not in the nursery, raggedy ann wrestled with boots and they would roll over and over upon the floor, boots with her front feet around raggedy ann's neck and kicking with her hind feet. [illustration] then boots would arch her back and pretend she was very angry and walk sideways until she was close to raggedy. then she would jump at her and over and over they would roll, their heads hitting the floor bumpity-bump. boots slept in the nursery that night and was lonely for her mamma, for it was the first time she had been away from home. even though her bed was right on top of raggedy ann, she could not sleep. but raggedy ann was very glad to have boots sleep with her, even if she was heavy, and when boots began crying for her mamma, raggedy ann comforted her and soon boots went to sleep. one day jeanette came home. she had a new coating of wax on her face and she was as beautiful as ever. now, by this time boots was one of the family and did not cry at night. besides boots was told of the mouse in the corner and how he had eaten jeanette's wax, so she promised to sleep with one eye open. late that night when boots was the only one awake, out popped a tiny mouse from the hole. boots jumped after the mouse, and hit against the toy piano and made the keys tinkle so loudly it awakened the dolls. they ran over to where boots sat growling with the tiny mouse in her mouth. my! how the mouse was squeaking! raggedy ann did not like to hear it squeak, but she did not wish jeanette to have her wax face chewed again, either. so, raggedy ann said to the tiny little mouse, "you should have known better than to come here when boots is with us. why don't you go out in the barn and live where you will not destroy anything of value?" "i did not know!" squeaked the little mouse, "this is the first time i have ever been here!" "aren't you the little mouse who nibbled jeanette's wax face?" raggedy ann asked. "no!" the little mouse answered. "i was visiting the mice inside the walls and wandered out here to pick up cake crumbs! i have three little baby mice at home down in the barn. i have never nibbled at anyone's wax face!" "are you a mamma mouse?" uncle clem asked. "yes!" the little mouse squeaked, "and if the kitten will let me go i will run right home to my children and never return again!" "let her go, boots!" the dolls all cried, "she has three little baby mice at home! please let her go!" "no, sir!" boots growled, "this is the first mouse i have ever caught and i will eat her!" at this the little mamma mouse began squeaking louder than ever. "if you do not let the mamma mouse go, boots, i shall not play with you again!" said raggedy ann. "raggedy will not play with boots again!" said all of the dolls in an awed tone. not to have raggedy play with them would have been sad, indeed. but boots only growled. the dolls drew to one side, where raggedy ann and uncle clem whispered together. and while they whispered boots would let the little mamma mouse run a piece, then she would catch it again and box it about between her paws. this she did until the poor little mamma mouse grew so tired it could scarcely run away from boots. boots would let it get almost to the hole in the wall before she would catch it, for she knew it would not escape her. as she watched the little mouse crawling towards the hole scarcely able to move, raggedy ann could not keep the tears from her shoe-button eyes. finally as boots started to spring after the little mouse again, raggedy ann threw her rag arms around the kitten's neck. "run, mamma mouse!" raggedy ann cried, as boots whirled her over and over. uncle clem ran and pushed the mamma mouse into the hole and then she was gone. when raggedy ann took her arms from around boots, the kitten was very angry. she laid her ears back and scratched raggedy ann with her claws. but raggedy ann only smiled--it did not hurt her a bit for raggedy was sewed together with a needle and thread and if that did not hurt, how could the scratch of a kitten? finally boots felt ashamed of herself and went over and lay down by the hole in the wall in hopes the mouse would return, but the mouse never returned. even then mamma mouse was out in the barn with her children, warning them to beware of kittens and cats. raggedy ann and all the dolls then went to bed and raggedy had just dozed off to sleep when she felt something jump upon her bed. it was boots. she felt a warm little pink tongue caress her rag cheek. raggedy ann smiled happily to herself, for boots had curled up on top of raggedy ann and was purring herself to sleep. then raggedy ann knew she had been forgiven for rescuing the mamma mouse and she smiled herself to sleep and dreamed happily of tomorrow. [illustration] [illustration] raggedy ann's new sisters marcella was having a tea party up in the nursery when daddy called to her, so she left the dollies sitting around the tiny table and ran down stairs carrying raggedy ann with her. mama, daddy and a strange man were talking in the living room and daddy introduced marcella to the stranger. the stranger was a large man with kindly eyes and a cheery smile, as pleasant as raggedy ann's. he took marcella upon his knee and ran his fingers through her curls as he talked to daddy and mamma, so, of course, raggedy ann liked him from the beginning. "i have two little girls," he told marcella. "their names are virginia and doris, and one time when we were at the sea-shore they were playing in the sand and they covered up freddy, doris' boy-doll in the sand. they were playing that freddy was in bathing and that he wanted to be covered with the clean white sand, just as the other bathers did. and when they had covered freddy they took their little pails and shovels and went farther down the beach to play and forgot all about freddy. "now when it came time for us to go home, virginia and doris remembered freddy and ran down to get him, but the tide had come in and freddy was 'way out under the water and they could not find him. virginia and doris were very sad and they talked of freddy all the way home." "it was too bad they forgot freddy," said marcella. "yes, indeed it was!" the new friend replied as he took raggedy ann up and made her dance on marcella's knee. "but it turned out all right after all, for do you know what happened to freddy?" "no, what did happen to him?" marcella asked. "well, first of all, when freddy was covered with the sand, he enjoyed it immensely. and he did not mind it so much when the tide came up over him, for he felt virginia and doris would return and get him. "but presently freddy felt the sand above him move as if someone was digging him out. soon his head was uncovered and he could look right up through the pretty green water, and what do you think was happening? the tide fairies were uncovering freddy! "when he was completely uncovered, the tide fairies swam with freddy 'way out to the undertow fairies. the undertow fairies took freddy and swam with him 'way out to the roller fairies. the roller fairies carried freddy up to the surface and tossed him up to the spray fairies who carried him to the wind fairies." "and the wind fairies?" marcella asked breathlessly. "the wind fairies carried freddy right to our garden and there virginia and doris found him, none the worse for his wonderful adventure!" "freddy must have enjoyed it and your little girls must have been very glad to get freddy back again!" said marcella. "raggedy ann went up in the air on the tail of a kite one day and fell and was lost, so now i am very careful with her!" "would you let me take raggedy ann for a few days?" asked the new friend. marcella was silent. she liked the stranger friend, but she did not wish to lose raggedy ann. [illustration] "i will promise to take very good care of her and return her to you in a week. will you let her go with me, marcella?" marcella finally agreed and when the stranger friend left, he placed raggedy ann in his grip. "it is lonely without raggedy ann!" said the dollies each night. "we miss her happy painted smile and her cheery ways!" they said. and so the week dragged by.... but, my! what a chatter there was in the nursery the first night after raggedy ann returned. all the dolls were so anxious to hug raggedy ann they could scarcely wait until marcella had left them alone. when they had squeezed raggedy ann almost out of shape and she had smoothed out her yarn hair, patted her apron out and felt her shoe-button eyes to see if they were still there, she said, "well, what have you been doing? tell me all the news!" "oh we have just had the usual tea parties and games!" said the tin soldier. "tell us about yourself, raggedy dear, we have missed you so much!" "yes! tell us where you have been and what you have done, raggedy!" all the dolls cried. but raggedy ann just then noticed that one of the penny dolls had a hand missing. "how did this happen?" she asked as she picked up the doll. "i fell off the table and lit upon the tin soldier last night when we were playing. but don't mind a little thing like that, raggedy ann," replied the penny doll. "tell us of yourself! have you had a nice time?" "i shall not tell a thing until your hand is mended!" raggedy ann said. so the indian ran and brought a bottle of glue. "where's the hand?" raggedy asked. "in my pocket," the penny doll answered. [illustration] when raggedy ann had glued the penny doll's hand in place and wrapped a rag around it to hold it until the glue dried, she said, "when i tell you of this wonderful adventure, i know you will all feel very happy. it has made me almost burst my stitches with joy." the dolls all sat upon the floor around raggedy ann, the tin soldier with his arm over her shoulder. "well, first when i left," said raggedy ann, "i was placed in the stranger friend's grip. it was rather stuffy in there, but i did not mind it; in fact i believe i must have fallen asleep, for when i awakened i saw the stranger friend's hand reaching into the grip. then he lifted me from the grip and danced me upon his knee. 'what do you think of her?' he asked to three other men sitting nearby. "i was so interested in looking out of the window i did not pay any attention to what they said, for we were on a train and the scenery was just flying by! then i was put back in the grip. "when next i was taken from the grip i was in a large, clean, light room and there were many, many girls all dressed in white aprons. "the stranger friend showed me to another man and to the girls who took off my clothes, cut my seams and took out my cotton. and what do you think! they found my lovely candy heart had not melted at all as i thought. then they laid me on a table and marked all around my outside edges with a pencil on clean white cloth, and then the girls re-stuffed me and dressed me. "i stayed in the clean big light room for two or three days and nights and watched my sisters grow from pieces of cloth into rag dolls just like myself!" "your sisters!" the dolls all exclaimed in astonishment, "what do you mean, raggedy?" "i mean," said raggedy ann, "that the stranger friend had borrowed me from marcella so that he could have patterns made from me. and before i left the big clean white room there where hundreds of rag dolls so like me you would not have been able to tell us apart." "we could have told _you_ by your happy smile!" cried the french dolly. "but all of my sister dolls have smiles just like mine!" replied raggedy ann. "and shoe-button eyes?" the dolls all asked. "yes, shoe-button eyes!" raggedy ann replied. "i would tell you from the others by your dress, raggedy ann," said the french doll, "your dress is fifty years old! i could tell you by that!" "but my new sister rag dolls have dresses just like mine, for the stranger friend had cloth made especially for them exactly like mine." "i know how we could tell you from the other rag dolls, even if you all look exactly alike!" said the indian doll, who had been thinking for a long time. "how?" asked raggedy ann with a laugh. "by feeling your candy heart! if the doll has a candy heart then it is you, raggedy ann!" raggedy ann laughed, "i am so glad you all love me as you do, but i am sure you would not be able to tell me from my new sisters, except that i am more worn, for each new rag doll has a candy heart, and on it is written, '_i love you_' just as is written on my own candy heart." "and there are hundreds and hundreds of the new rag dolls?" asked the little penny dolls. "hundreds and hundreds of them, all named raggedy ann," replied raggedy. "then," said the penny dolls, "we are indeed happy and proud for you! for wherever one of the new raggedy ann dolls goes there will go with it the love and happiness that _you_ give to others." [illustration] [transcriber's notes: there are a few variations in hyphenation between the introduction and the stories themselves. "today" and "downstairs" occur in the introduction, while "to-day" and "down-stairs" are in the stories. chicken coop is spelled once with and once without the hyphen.] violet: a fairy story. boston: phillips, sampson, and company. 1856. entered, according to act of congress, in the year 1855, by phillips, sampson, and company, in the clerk's office of the district court of the district of massachusetts. stereotyped at the boston stereotype foundry. publishers' advertisement. in the absence of any preface by the author, the publishers desire to call special attention to this most exquisite little story. it breathes such a love of nature in all her forms, inculcates such excellent principles, and is so full of beauty and simplicity, that it will delight not only children, but all readers of unsophisticated tastes. the author seems to teach the gentle creed which coleridge has imbodied in those familiar lines,- "he prayeth well who loveth well both man, and bird, and beast." violet: a fairy story. chapter i. violet's home. once there was a gardener who lived in an old hut of a house, with one table inside, and some rough stools, and a large box that served for a bed, all of which he had made himself. there was one window; but when it stormed the rain beat in so that the old lady, his wife, had to pin her shawl against it, and then the whole house was dark as night. every body thought these people poor except themselves; but they had one treasure which seemed to them better than a whole mountain of gold and all the splendid houses and gay carriages in the world. this was their little daughter violet, whose presence in their home made it beautiful and stately, and whose absence, they thought, would have made a palace dull. violet was not as beautiful as some children. she was pale and slender, and her soft, light hair did not curl in ringlets, but floated over her shoulders like a golden veil. but o, she had such beautiful eyes! they were large, and so bright and clear, and such a deep, deep blue! sometimes they made you think of a brook in the shady wood when gleams of sunshine have found their way to it; sometimes they were like nothing so much as the violets that grew beside the doorway of her own father's hut. the old man had, besides his daughter, a garden, which was dear to him; and well it might be, for in summer it did one's eyes good to look at the blossoms all tangled together, and sprinkled over with great drops of pearly dew. roses there were, and lilies, and fox-gloves, and mignonette, and a great many other flowers that had long names, which violet could not remember. then there were long, neatly-kept beds of vegetables and sweet herbs, which reuben--for that was the gardener's name--carried to market. now, while reuben was digging his vegetables, his wife and violet would gather the prettiest flowers and buds, and tie them into bouquets with so much taste that soon the old gardener became famous for his flowers, and many rich people sought him out, promising to buy all he would bring to their houses. flowers only grow in summer time; and all the year round people must eat, and drink, and wear clothes; and then reuben had to pay rent for his garden; so, notwithstanding their industry, violet's friends were poor. but they were happier than a great many rich people, and certainly loved violet as well as though she had been a queen. they were so kind to her that sometimes the little girl thought, if there were such beings as fairies, they must look into her heart every day, find out her wishes, and tell them to her good parents. between you and me, there _were_ two fairies--one named love and the other contentment--that lived all the time in reuben's hut; and though violet had never seen their faces, and did not even know their names, they were always doing something for her. it was because these excellent friends had touched her coarse garments that they looked fine and soft as velvet to her eyes; it was because they never left the old black hut that it looked so clean and sunny--cheerful as a palace. you may wonder, if these fairies were so powerful, why they didn't have a palace of their own; but you must remember directly they enter a place it becomes a palace; and besides, violet possessed a charm so powerful that even the fairies could not fly away unless she gave them leave; and yet--wasn't it queer?--she did not know this herself. chapter ii. strange playfellows. violet's birthday was very near; but she had forgotten all about it, birthdays came so far apart in her happy life. from morning until evening seemed long enough for a year to her; she found so much work to do, and such beautiful walks to take, and had so many playfellows, to say nothing of the two good fairies that always watched over and followed her. perhaps you wonder how the little girl found friends, living as she did away out in a lonesome field among the mountains. she could have described her pets to you better than i can, because the fairy love dressed them up for her in jewels and rainbows, while to others they were only toads, and snakes, and flies, and trees, and brooks, and clouds. funny playfellows, you will think. there was one good thing about them--they never quarrelled or used bad words; and then it was sport for violet, after her work was finished, to scamper away with them. but if she ran ever so fast, the fairy love always kept up with her; and it is well she did; for if she had staid at home, or fallen into a pit on the way, all violet's dear playfellows would have changed in an instant--have grown ugly and coarse, and, what is worse, she would have trodden on them and crushed their wings--by mistake, i hope, for she never had been so wicked; and violet herself would have changed into a little peevish girl, with a sickly face and loose yellow hair, and wearing a dress so coarse and rough you would not give it to a beggar child. but violet kept the charm locked safe in her heart, and therefore, wander wherever she would, the fairies had to follow. they were up with her early in summer mornings, for she loved dearly to watch the sun rise. she would climb a hill, at the foot of which reuben's hut was built, and all alone up there, close, she thought, to the soft, rosy sky, would wait and watch, and at last clap her little hands for joy when the great golden sun came in sight above the woods. she would stand on tiptoe, and laugh aloud when she saw the shadows fly away, like frightened birds, before the sunshine, which flooded all the valley now, and which lay upon the beautiful wreaths of mist that went curling up to meet it from the ponds and brooks, brightening them to dazzling whiteness--so like the clouds in heaven that violet half believed the earth about her was beautiful as that far-off blue sky. so it would be if every little girl and boy kept two good fairies, like love and contentment, flying about with them. how the grass glittered with dew! how the slender wild flowers were bowed down with its weight!--pearl and diamond beads strung all along the stems, and edging every petal. children who keep in bed until eight o'clock know very little about the beauty of summer mornings. perhaps, even if they did arise in time, they would be afraid of wetting their shoes in the grass; but violet was very poor, you know, and never wore a shoe in her life, and lived out of doors so much that she was not in the least delicate. as soon as the sunshine had crept near their nests among the green boughs of the wood, all the wild birds began to flutter about and sing such loud, clear, sweet songs that violet could not help joining the chorus; and any one else would have known that fairies love and contentment were singing loudest of all. violet heard their music, but supposed it came from the birds. how she wanted to fly away with them, up among the beautiful rosy clouds! but love whispered in her ear,-"won't your mother want you, little girl, at home? cannot you help her there?" and just then a bird fluttered away from a dew-wet bough, dashing a whole shower of drops in violet's face. instead of being angry, she laughed, and shouted,-"do it again, bird. if i can't fly away with you, you may wash my face before you go. do it again." but the bird was soon out of sight among the clouds, and violet, with these pearly dewdrops clustering in her golden hair, went dancing down the hill. chapter iii. the mountain brook. close beside the pathway ran a little murmuring brook, foaming and sparkling over its rocky bed, gliding just as merrily through the dark shadows as when its course lay open to the sun. it seemed as if fairy contentment must have bathed in it, or planted some of the flowers along its brink; never was there a merrier little stream. "i know what you're singing about," said violet; "i know, mr. brook; you're trying to make me think you can run down the hill faster than any one else. let us see;" and away she flew, and away the brook went after her, and by her side flew the fairies, and over her head the birds--all singing, "success to violet!" while the leaves "clapped their little hands" in favor of their friend the brook, and the young birds looked over the edge of their nests to find out what in the world this stir could be about. nobody ever knew which won the race. up in the clouds the birds sang, "good, good, good; it was violet, violet!" while the leaves whispered, "no, no, no, no; it was the brook!" but violet and the brook were as good friends as were the birds and trees; so they all laughed together, instead of quarrelling. when violet reached home her breakfast was ready, and she sat down on the doorstep with her tin porringer of bread and milk. she was so hungry that it tasted better than a great many nicer breakfasts which have been eaten from silver cups; but, hungry as she was, she did not forget her kitten, who came, saying, plainly as she could purr, "leave a little for me." violet had found out that it makes one quite as happy to be generous as to eat a good breakfast, and kitty had her share. then she washed her porringer, hung it up in the sun to dry, and ran out in the garden, where her mother was picking flowers, whole baskets full of them, for the market, and told violet to look among the thickly-clustering leaves of her namesakes, and gather all the blossoms she could find. she found a whole apron full, white and blue violets, single and double ones; these she tied in bunches, with a few bright green leaves around each bouquet. the whole garden was scented with their fragrance, and violet thought them the prettiest flowers in the world, as well as the sweetest, and wished in her heart that she could, just once, have one of these whole bunches for her own. while she knelt on the ground admiring her lovely flowers, and wishing they need not all be sent away and sold, the fairy love flew to her mother's side, and whispered in her ear all that violet was thinking about. then her mother remembered that to-morrow would be violet's birthday, and on that occasion she never forgot to give her a present. but about this i must tell in another chapter. chapter iv. toady. violet passed such long, long, busy days, talking all the time to her mother, her kitten, her toads, or the birds that alighted now and then upon a bush, and sang to her while she worked; for violet's mother, though she gave her plenty of time to play, had taught her little girl to sew and read. she might have forgotten to do this amid all her own hard work; but fairy contentment whispered in her ear that, unless violet became useful and industrious, _she_ must fly away, never to return; and love, close by, sang, "see--i have brought her these books; and i'll make the learning easy." i told you that some of violet's playfellows were toads--the same ugly brown toads you have seen hopping about your own garden walks. you must not think they were ugly to her; for, soon as they came in sight, it always happened that the shadow of love's purple wings would fall upon them, and then their brown backs changed to crimson and violet, and the poisonous-looking spots became jewelled studs; and i will not say they were very graceful pets even then; but violet loved them, and they loved her. this is the way their acquaintance began: it was a hot day--blazing hot; so light too--not a shadow to be seen. violet had been in the garden at work, and, as she hastened homeward through the scorching sun, almost fell over a great toad, that had been crossing the path, but was so dusty she had mistaken him for a stone or a ball of earth. she stooped to see if she had injured him, and patting the toad's back, said,-"you poor little dirty fellow, don't you know enough to keep out of the sun and dust?" toady looked up at her as if he would answer if he did but know how to talk; he only opened and shut, opened and shut, his great wide mouth; but violet understood very well what he meant by this; for the fairy love teaches a language that is not set down in books or studied in colleges. i have known of great scholars, who could talk in twenty or thirty different tongues, and who yet knew less about this language of love, which is the very best in the whole wide world, than our poor little barefooted violet. "you're thirsty, are you, toady?" said she; "stand still, and i'll give you a drink." the toad opened his mouth again, and violet poured over him a few drops she had left in her watering pot. she was half afraid he would not be very well pleased with such a showering; but there he stood, stock still, blinking his round red eyes, and opening his mouth at her as if he would say, "more--more!" "well, wait," she said, laughing; "i'll go to the brook and bring you more water in welcome, just for the sake of seeing your face clean once." away she ran, and toady not only waited for her, but, when she came back, there, one on each side of him, were two smaller toads--the three ranged in a row, looking so sober and funny that violet laughed louder than ever. she sprinkled the poor dusty toads all over with cool, bright water from the mountain brook; and when they had enough, they began to shake their heads and hop away, without even saying, "thank you," and hid themselves in the grass. chapter v. love's charm. but the next day, (and this is a true story,) when it had grown so warm that violet could not work any longer in the garden, and was going home with her hoe and watering pot, there stood the three toads again in the walk, just as they were the day before, with toady, as she called him, between the two smaller ones. all three gave a little hop when violet came in sight, and then stood still again. this was their way of saying, "good morning; we hope you haven't forgotten us." and long afterwards, whenever violet passed through the garden walk, especially if the day was warm, she was pretty sure of meeting her new acquaintances. they even grew so tame that they would follow her about the garden; and often she would walk up and down the same path for half an hour at a time, just for the sake of seeing how soberly her droll little pets would hop along after her, turning whenever she turned, and waiting for her whenever she stopped. violet thought them the wisest and most loving toads that ever hopped. she did not know that love, directly their mistress entered the garden, fastened them to her by a delicate silken cord, just the color of love's own purple wings, and they could not very well help following her; though, if violet had treated them unkindly, in an instant the purple cord would have lost all its strength, and grown slender as the slenderest thread in a spider web. now, my dear readers, though i hope with all my heart that you will try to be as good and loving as violet, i don't want you to _do_ every thing she did. all toads are not as fond of a sprinkling as toady and his young brothers were; so you mustn't drown the poor things in water every time you meet one. what you need is, to persuade the fairies love and contentment to live in your home, and trust to your keeping a charm like the one they had placed in violet's heart. then, every morning of your lives, they will tell something which you can do, and no one else can do as well, to make others happy--kind deeds that will lighten misfortune, and loving words that may enter like music, and dwell in some lonely, sorrowing heart. believe always this one thing--that every kind deed you do for others will make _you_ happier then and always, and every unkind deed will make you feel ashamed and sorry so long as you remember it. no matter to whom the kindness or unkindness may be done--a king or a butterfly, your own dear mother or a little toad in the garden walk. i have known children who could not bear to see even a lily broken down by rain, its beautiful white flowers all lying in the dirt. i have watched them prop it up with sticks, and gently wash the earth away from its delicate petals, and have said to myself, "ah, little one, the fairy love is nestling in your heart." and i have seen the fairy contentment start from her nest among the lilies, and follow the little one as she ran off to play. chapter vi. how fairies look. do you want to know how contentment looks? some people think she is the most beautiful among all the fairies; (and there are hosts of them, and some of the bad ones, even, have handsome faces.) her cheeks are not quite as rosy as love's, and her mild eyes do not sparkle and glitter as brilliantly; but she has a smile even brighter than love's own; this sheds a peaceful light about contentment wherever she goes; and wherever it falls, beautiful flowers will blossom, and the air grow clear and fragrant. she wears a wreath of starbeams, braided into a delicate but brilliant crown; and there is no place so dark but this will light a path through it. her pure white wings look like two lily petals, and though always clean and fresh themselves, i suppose they have dusted away more heaps of care, and though so delicate, have lifted people safely over wider seas of trouble, than all the strong arms in the world--all the railroads and steamships put together. she always carries in her hand an urn, from which a sweet and delicate odor arises like incense. perhaps you will be surprised when i tell where she found this urn. it was the largest and most perfect blossom on a branch of lilies of the valley. did you ever notice what lovely little vases they form when you turn them stem side down? i never saw one half as pretty made of parian; but, then, of course nothing _could_ be as beautiful as a flower; they are god's vases, and his work is always the most perfect. the lily never faded; nothing _can_ fade in the light of contentment's smile; and the modest little flower that might only have shed fragrance about its own green leaves, borne by the fairy, has sprinkled its incense odor through every land. love is more splendid than contentment, but not any more beautiful; _her_ wings are larger, richer, and more delicate. they are like petals of the fleur-de-lis, or iris, perhaps you call it--the splendid, feathery, purple flower, with leaves like long ribbon streamers. they are transparent too; and wherever love goes, the light, shining through these wings, casts a rich purple glow about her--dyed, as you may have seen the sunshine in falling through the great stained window of some church. love's crown is a broad band of golden sunshine, and she scatters roses and violets about every where. chapter vii. the birthday present. but i must tell you what happened to poor toady one day, and see if you wonder that violet felt badly. she was sitting on the doorstep sewing, with kitty in her lap, sound asleep, and the three toads watching her from the walk--as happy a little girl as ever breathed. it was her birthday; and when she awoke that morning, the first thing her eyes rested upon was the largest bunch of sweet violets she had ever seen in her life. they were set in a beautiful white cup, with violet printed in gold letters on the front. she hardly stopped to look twice at them, but, in her nightgown, ran to the door to find and thank her good, kind parents. they were not in the field or the garden; and then violet remembered that this was market day, and they must have gone to the town, and might not be home again until afternoon. it was an hour before violet could dress herself. she looked at and smelt of the flowers a hundred times--set them in every corner and on every ledge to see where they would look prettiest--talked to them, and danced around them, and even pinched her finger to see if she could be awake. all these beautiful, fragrant blossoms her own for a whole day--for a week--as long as they did not fade! then she went to the brook for water, and setting her basin on the bank, knelt down among the dewy flowers to wash her face and smooth her long, soft, golden hair, and as she went home, sang her morning hymn; for violet knew that every morning the birds poured forth their songs, and the flowers their odors, and the brook its vapor wreaths, in gratitude to heaven; and she had no idea of being the only ungrateful thing on earth. she met kitty, and taking her in her arms, hurried into the house, thinking how surprised and delighted puss would be with the violets. but kitty was thinking of something else; she only sneezed when violet put her nose among the wet flowers, and struggled to get away. "well, there--go," said violet, a little hurt. puss had no thought of going; she purred louder than ever, and rubbed her white face against violet's dress, and looked up at her wistfully. "o, you greedy kit!" said violet, at last; "you're thinking about breakfast, and not my flowers. i'll eat it right away, so as to leave you some." but, for joy, she could hardly eat a spoonful; and however kitty slighted what was in the gilded cup, it was plain enough that she enjoyed the contents of the old tin porringer. while puss was eating, violet brought her flowers to the door again, and began to look about for the toads. pretty soon out they hopped from the wet grass, half drowned themselves in dew, and hop, hop, hop they came towards violet. you may think she was very silly; but you must remember she was all alone out in the fields, and had no other playmates; so she made the most of these. the toads stood still when they came to the cup of violets, and looked up at her, winking their round, lazy eyes, until she felt sure they were trying to congratulate her and praise her flowers. then kitty came along, gaping, for she had eaten more breakfast than usual; and love reminded violet that she had work to do, although it was her birthday; so she took kitty in her lap, left the toads staring at her flowers, and seated herself on the doorstep to sew. chapter viii. violet's troubles. just then she heard a light, rolling sound, which came nearer and nearer, till at last she saw a carriage, drawn by two white horses. this entered the green field, and, to violet's surprise, stopped before old reuben's little hut. in the carriage were two children not much older than violet, and their father, a tall, stately gentleman; besides, there were two footmen and a driver. the carriage was painted in gay colors, and gilded so that it fairly glittered in the sun; and the little girl inside was so gayly dressed, in silks, and ribbons, and artificial flowers, that violet thought it must be one of the dolls she had seen in a milliner's window. but the doll, if it was one, spoke, tossing back her curls, and beckoning with her gloved hand to violet, while the gentleman, placing a purse in his daughter's outstretched hand, said,-"buy as many flowers as you want, narcissa. meantime i will climb the hill yonder, which must overlook a fine prospect, it seems to me. what do _you_ say, alfred? will you accompany me?" now, when the carriage stopped, the boy, narcissa's brother, had taken a book from his pocket, and was reading it attentively; he appeared so unwilling to leave it, although he arose to follow his father, that the indulgent parent said,-"well, never mind; you can read on." "little girl," exclaimed narcissa, "run quickly into the house and call your mother or father, or somebody; i want them." "we are the only bodies here," said violet, looking at her pets. "well, then, go and pick me all the violets in your garden; i shall pay for them." "they were sent to market this morning," said violet, stroking kitty's back, and not feeling very sorry at narcissa's disappointment, for the little girl in the carriage did not seem to her well bred. "but you must, you _shall_, find me some, girl," said narcissa, in a rage. "don't you know that i'm going to a fancy ball to-night, and my maid must have fifteen bunches of violets to dress me with, and we have only found twelve so far? i know you're not telling the truth, for there in the grass is a whole bunch of beautiful ones. bring them to me," turning to the footman, "and kill those dirty toads in the path; i hate the sight of them." violet rushed to the rescue of her pets. "o, no, no! they are mine--my own--my best friends--_my_ toads and violets!" she screamed. but in vain. the footman stepped on poor toady, kicked him across and across the path, till, all bruised and bleeding, he lay still, and, violet thought, dead, while narcissa clapped her hands and laughed at violet's sorrow. "_your_ toads and violets!" she said; "i should think you were crazy. but i don't want to hurt your feelings, girl. go and bring me two more large handfuls of violets, and i will forgive all your impudence and wrong stories. why don't you go? what are you staring at?" chapter ix. fairies again. it had just come into violet's head that this proud and imperious little mortal in the carriage must be a queen, such as her story books told about, and had a right to every body's service and every body's goods. what strengthened this belief was the fact that, fluttering about narcissa's head, she saw (and though her face was wet with tears, she stared at it) the queerest little fairy; now, too, she saw another fairy perched on alfred's arm as he read, and turning over the leaves of his book; while all about the carriage flew a third, the largest and most splendid of all; he trod upon the servant's heads, right over the crown of their hats; he would sit down to rest on the necks of the beautiful white horses, as they pawed the ground; he whirled round and round narcissa, even daring to pull her own fairy's hair, while he patted alfred's fairy on the back quite condescendingly. this little imp was named pride. he looked, as he flew, like a great scarlet cactus blossom, in his long rich cloak, with heavy tassels, that swept the ground, and left wherever they trailed a very fine dust of gold. in this dust the tassels were dipped continually--powdered over with it, finer than the yellow pollen you may have seen on the stamens of a lily. the flower pollen is good for something, but not so pride's gold dust. he only scatters it because it is so expensive, and common people cannot do the same. i have known persons who sold comfortable homes, cheerful hearts, and good consciences, all for a little gold, which they ground into this silly powder, and threw away. i think pride makes people a little insane; you must take care that none of his gold dust gets into _your_ eyes. the good thing about pride--and there is something good about every body--was his affection for alfred's fairy, ambition. i cannot describe this being, he is so dazzlingly bright. he is the best and the worst fairy i know, for he is at times like each one, and often like all together. it is ambition that makes men good as angels; and every one knows it is ambition that makes satan so bad. this fairy is useful; but he cannot be trusted for a moment; he may serve you faithfully through a long life, and at the end plunge you into some pitfall, just for mischief. he will whisper sweet words in your ear, and build you a glittering boat, and promise to row you down the pleasantest river to paradise itself. perhaps he will do all he promises; perhaps he will only land you in a madhouse or a jail. ambition had taken a fancy to alfred, and never left his side. he would urge him away from his companions and sports, to work over books,--always to work and study,--and promised to make him a great and useful man. there is one strange thing about these fairy people; beautiful and rich as they are, and free and powerful, they will follow and make their home with the poorest little child, and shelter him with their splendid wings, and light up his pathway with their gleaming crowns; but only on one condition--that the child follow wherever they lead, and is true to the fairies as they are true to him; which is but fair, you know. who wants to give advice that is not followed? we all, though at the time we do not know it, choose our own fairies, and, once chosen, they love us and make us love them so well that it is no easy matter to escape from them, or to avoid obeying their advice. so, when you see any one--and grown-up men and women have fairies as well as children--who is led about by a wicked fairy, you must pity instead of blaming the sufferer; and if he offend you, you must take care that _his_ fairy doesn't fly into your heart and frighten away your own, or make you forget, and give unkind answers back. be very sure no one _wants_ to be bad; only if a spiteful little spirit perched on your shoulder, and whispered evil thoughts and angry words into _your_ ear, don't you suppose that sometimes you would obey him and believe what he said? whenever you feel these wicked spirits near, call loud for violet's fairy, love. she will be sure to come; and they know very well they cannot live in her presence; for the light of her starry crown puts out their eyes, and the incense from contentment's urn will take away their breath. if love come, content will be sure to follow; so only keep these fairies near, and you are safe. chapter x. the strangers. but we were talking about violet and poor toady, who lay on the ground all bruised and bleeding, one of his legs so broken that it dragged along after him when he tried to hop, and one of his eyes torn out and hanging by the skin; while the poor thing quivered all over with pain, and looked up at violet with his one eye, as if he would say, "_do_ help me, violet. why didn't you keep them away?" she lifted him into the grass, smoothing it first into something like a nest; then she poured some water from her violet cup to wash away the dust and blood, and stroked his back gently, while toady looked up at her, and shut and opened his one eye, and tried to hop, which was his way of thanking her, you know. when she found how stiff and sore he was, violet burst into tears again, and wondered if the little queen in the carriage was any happier for doing all this mischief. let us see. having taken care of her pet, the little girl looked to see if the carriage had gone; and though she was almost as blind as toady, her eyes were so full of tears, she knew plainly enough by the sound that it was waiting still; for alfred had thrown his book aside, and he and narcissa were talking angrily. "you're an ugly, envious thing," said alfred. "that poor little girl had nothing on earth but those few flowers and a miserable toad; and you, who have every thing you want, could not rest till you had stolen these. if i were king, i'd send you to state's prison." "and if you were a queen, what would _you_ do to the girl in the carriage?" asked narcissa's father of violet; for the gentleman had returned from his walk, and coming quietly behind, had been watching her as she wept and watched over toady, who seemed to be fast asleep. "o, i would send her away to the end of the world, so i might never see her again. _do_ take her away," she pleaded. "but she _has_ done wrong; she had no more right to hurt your toad than you have to hurt my horses in the carriage there. shall i not punish her?" "it wouldn't do me any good," said violet, mournfully. "tell her she may have the flowers in welcome _now_. i don't care about them or any thing else if toady must die." "and why do you care about toady?" "about _him_?" asked violet, shaking away the golden hair as she looked up wonderingly with her beautiful blue eyes,--"care about _him_? why, did you ever see such a handsome toad? and then i have known him so long, and he hops about after me and lets me feed him; and now, now, when i come here in the morning, how lonesome i shall be, for he can't come hopping out from the grass any more, all wet with dew, and winking his round eyes, as if he'd say, 'good morning.'" the gentleman laughed, and then looked very sober, as he said,-"i can't see much beauty in your pet; but i like you, little girl, for loving him so well; and here is money to pay for the harm my daughter has done." "why," said violet, who had never seen any coin before, "i thought money was made to buy flour and meal with." "so it is," replied the gentleman, "and to buy cake, and fine clothes, and artificial flowers like those in narcissa's bonnet." "i shouldn't want to look like _her_. i am not a queen," said violet, "and i can find a great deal prettier flowers on the mountain than she wears, and prettier-looking stones than these;" and she looked at the silver carelessly; then, brightening up all at once, she asked,-"will they cure toady's leg? o, if they will, i'll give you my flowers and the new cup both for them." the gentleman shook his head. "then take them away. i don't want any thing." chapter xi. the doctor doctored. if narcissa's father had looked then, he would have seen the fairy love bending over violet till the sunny crown she wore brightened up her face, and made it look beautiful as an angel's, and contentment, too, pouring perfume out of her lily urn. but the gentleman had a great deal of pride's gold dust in his eyes, and therefore he could not see very clearly. he _did_ see the beautiful love violet had for her ugly little pet, and felt how much better it was to be contented, like violet, with so little, than to have almost every thing, like narcissa, and be always wishing for more. and what do you think the fairies did? they looked out of violet's eyes, right through them, into his; and whenever she spoke they flew into his heart with the words, till the proud man, who had not wept since narcissa's mother died, long and long ago, felt great tears gathering in his eyes; and as these fell into the grass, contentment took care to wash away all the pride dust with her own white wings. "the money will not cure your toad," said he; "but _i_ can mend his leg, for i am a physician, and know all about broken bones." so he made the servant bring a case from the carriage, and taking a sharp little knife from it, he cut away the eye, which was too much crushed to be of any use, and then bound up the leg. but toady kicked, and struggled, and made such a time about it, and seemed in such pain, that violet begged him to unfasten the bandage. "well, you are right," he said; "the limb cannot be cured, and if i cut it off it will be out of his way, at least." he had no sooner done _this_ than toady hopped right out of his grassy nest, and looking at violet, winked so drolly with his one eye that she laughed and cried at once, and thanked the doctor over and over again. "you needn't thank _me_," he said; "for it seems you knew better what would suit him than i did, little girl. i wonder who taught you." then love and contentment looked at each other and smiled; _they_ knew very well who had taught violet, and they knew besides that violet was teaching the proud, rich, learned man a lesson better than he could find in all his books or buy with all his money; for the sweet smile of contentment and the beautiful words of love, which had come to him through the lips of the little berry girl, violet, would be remembered for long years, and prompt him to perform kind deeds, and thus to forget his pride and his cares, and be sometimes light-hearted as a little child. chapter xii. who are happiest. do you know, dear children, that as soon as people have grown up they begin to wish they were young again, and had not troublesome servants to manage, and great houses to take care of, and purses full of money to spend or to save, and, worst of all, whole troops of wicked fairies? _they_ call them habits; but fairies they are, for all that. these spirits lead into so much mischief that there are very few men and women who don't sometimes fold their hands and say, "o, dear! if i could go back and be a little child once more!" ask your mother if she wouldn't give all her jewels away in exchange for as pure a heart as children have. ask your father whether he wouldn't give all his bonds and railroad stocks if that would make him as merry and free from care as you are when you climb upon his knee to ask the question. and if they say "no," ask them which fairy they would rather _you_ took for a friend--pride or truth. now, here you are, children still; and if i were you, i'd enjoy being young while it lasts. i'd make friends with as many good fairies, and scare away as many bad ones, as i could find. scare them away! i wouldn't wait to look at them or hear them talk; for some have pretty faces and sweet words, but they are dreadful cheats. i would find out ever so many things,--and there's no end to the number there _are_,--ever so many things which are right, and good, and beautiful. i wouldn't look for any thing else, but would be so happy among these that other people would notice it, and look after them too; and then i would give them as many as they wanted of my treasures, and teach them where to find more; for fairy love takes care that the more we give the more we shall have; and even if we didn't, who wants to be a miser? think how much god has given us!--this whole great world, all the sky over your head, and the air, and sunshine, and woods, and gardens full of flowers, and fathers and mothers to love and take care of us, and a million other things. and what do we give god? every thing that we give away at all we give to him just as much as if we laid it in his hand. don't you know that christ called the poor and ignorant god's little children, and declared he loved them all _better_ than your mother and father love you? and not only this, god cares when even a bird falls to the ground with his wing broken, and is watching to see how much you are willing to do for his creature. chapter xiii. violet berrying. i called violet a little berry girl, and i'll tell you why. on the great hill above their hut, all over one side of it, were blackberry vines; and in autumn, when the berries were ripe, violet and her mother would spend hours and hours picking them. the sun would be scorching hot sometimes, and the thorny vines would tangle into violet's dress and tear her arms, and mosquitos would buzz around her, until she was ready to cry or to declare she _could_ not pick any more. poor violet! _you_ think, perhaps, that it is hard to walk to school under your parasol these sunny days; and she had, day after day, to stand out there among the vines, picking, and picking, and picking, till the two great water pails were full of berries. but when she grew tired, love would point to her poor old mother working so patiently, and looking so tired and warm; and when the fairy whispered, "will you leave her here to finish the work _alone_?" violet would forget in a minute her own weariness, and sing and laugh so merrily, and tell so often how fast her pail was filling up, that the mother would forget _her_ weariness too, and only think how fortunate and how rich she was to have such a good, bright child. when she found a place where the berries grew thick and large, violet would call her mother to pick there; and old mary, reuben's wife, said that "somehow she never could find such splendid places as violet did." so, leaving her there, the little girl would move on; and no matter how low she found the bushes, or how thinly covered with fruit, fairy contentment, hovering over her head, would sing, "who cares? the fewer, the sweeter." what with contentment's singing, and that of violet, and the crickets and locusts, and the bees and bobolinks, there was music enough in the blackberry pasture; and it all chimed together just like the instruments in an orchestra. chapter xiv. the birds' harvest time. but i was telling you about violet's birthday; so let us go back to the doorstep of her father's little hut. narcissa called impatiently that she was tired of waiting; so her father, bidding good by to his new acquaintance, sprang into the carriage, and it rolled lightly through the green field once more. violet sat watching until it was out of sight, and she could no longer see narcissa's feathers and flowers fluttering in the wind. some how she never thought of her afterwards, except as a whole bunch of lace and finery, with a little girl inside of it. then she looked around for her violets; they were gone, and in their place lay the stranger's money. but toady hopped in sight just then, looking so brisk, and getting about so well on his three legs, she thought her flowers were little enough to pay for so much good as he had received. so, happy as ever, violet took her pail and went towards the blackberry hill. it seemed to her the berries were never so thick and large; she soon had enough, and setting them in a shady place, she went to the brook to wash her hands. there were long, deep scratches on her arms. how they smarted when the water touched them! but violet only thought how much worse toady's scratches and bruises were; and then she loved to be clean, for she had watched how the birds wash in the brook a dozen times a day, and how smooth the squirrels keep their fur, and how the flowers and leaves bathe their faces every morning in dew. she didn't want the leaves and birds to be ashamed of her. the little girl strolled on towards the wood, singing and laughing, and talking to every thing she met, but most of all to kitty, who followed after her; while whole troops of grasshoppers and little yellow butterflies flew before, and settled in advance of violet, and when she came up, flew a little farther, as if they wanted to lead her on. then there were flocks and flocks of birds; the ground seemed alive with them, for it was harvest time, and they came for the ripe grain which had fallen when the farmers cut their crops, and was scattered all over the fields. the thistle seeds were ripe too; and the birds, and butterflies, and bees seemed to love this best of all. violet stood watching them eat, and laughed as she told puss that must be where she learned to be so greedy. the bees went buzzing down into the very heart of the purple flowers, and took such long, deep honey draughts, and went back again and again, as if they could never have enough, and hurried away to their hives, for the sake of hurrying back for more. the birds were not much better. they would hover an instant over the whole thistle bed, and then, selecting a good large flower, they would fly at it, fanning away with their fluttering wings till they were lost in a cloud of down, and tear out the rich, ripe seeds, swallowing them so fast it seemed as if they were eating for all winter. violet was never tired of watching, for she loved to see every creature happy, and knew, besides, that the birds and bees only have so good a chance to eat once in the year; and therefore, though she laughed at it, she couldn't blame them for their greediness. there were such handsome yellow birds, with black spots and stripes over their bright breasts and wings. they buried their black and golden heads away in among the thistle down, while they clung to the stem with claws and wings, and were so busy eating that they did not see how near violet crept to them. then a beautiful great butterfly, its rich brown wings spotted with blue and orange, settled upon a flower, and sipped daintily, and fluttered away again to take another sip somewhere else, and then went sailing off into the sunshine. so she skipped along after it, kitty running close behind her, until they came to a bank covered with white everlasting flowers--so many it looked a little way off like snow; and violet, whose mother had told her that in heaven flowers did not fade, but were _all_ everlasting, wondered if the door of heaven had not been left ajar, some day, long enough for a whole shower of seed to blow down towards this hill, and planting itself, come up in these pearl-white flowers. ah, violet! the commonest seeds sprang up into heavenly flowers if they fell in _your_ pathway. chapter xv. where the squirrel led violet. while violet stood wondering thus, she saw a squirrel on the fence, nibbling upon a nut. as soon as she stirred, he darted along a rail or two, and then, waiting till she came up with him, went nibbling again. "you needn't feel so grand with your spry legs. i guess i can run as well as you," said violet. the squirrel tucked the nut under one arm, and with a whisk of his bushy tail, darted like lightning along the rails, leaving violet so far behind she thought he had gone into the wood; but when she had reached far enough herself, there he sat, quietly nibbling at his nut again, and soon as he saw her, whisked up into a tree, and from among the high boughs called, "cheep, cheep, chip! which beat, little girl?" violet could not see him, he went so fast and far; and as she looked up among the leafy boughs, he dropped the nut right into her face, and ran round and round the limb, and called "cheep, cheep, chip!" again, as if he were laughing at her. violet laughed too, and threw the nut back at him, looking first to see how clean he had eaten out the meat. away darted squirrel, without waiting to chip this time, and violet called, as he ran,-"it's all very fine to whisk along so fast, mister; but i should like to know how much good your travelling does. i know you can't _see_ a thing, any more than they can in the rail cars i've heard about. you're welcome to your legs so long as you leave the brook, and the flowers, and birds for puss and me." but he only answered by dropping another nut from directly over her head, and she followed him into the wood--the beautiful, cool, still wood. violet left off singing as she entered it; for she loved to hear the rustle of the ripe leaves, and to watch the tiny fibres falling lightly from the pines, and hear the nuts and acorns rattle down, and to see the spider webs and insects glitter wherever a gleam of sunshine had stolen through the boughs. her hands were full of flowers, which she had gathered on the way; for she did not mean her new cup should be empty when the good parents came home. so she had picked such a splendid bunch!--bright red cardinal flowers from the swamp; and along by the brook side, where it was sunniest, she found beautiful blue fringed gentians; and farther on branches of golden rod, that looked like little elm trees changed to gold; and on farther still, by the edge of the wood, where, as they waved, they seemed beckoning her, she found plenty of asters, white as snow, with little yellow eyes twinkling out among the petals, or else rich purple with deep gold inside; and she had some of the everlasting flowers too, like bunches of pure pearls. violet crept under the deep shade of the boughs, where the brook was gurgling over its mossy stones, and laid the stems of her flowers there to keep them fresh, making a wall of pebbles around them, so that the water, which tripped along so fast, should not carry them away. for once, when she forgot to do this, she had no sooner placed her flowers in the brook than off they sailed down stream, and scattered so fast and far she couldn't think of finding them all again. violet laughed when she remembered that day, and how the brook, full of its mischief, had run away with her treasures, and scattered them any and every where along its banks, setting some upright, as if they were growing again, and wedging some under the stones, and tangling some under the fence, and floating some down the hill and through the sunny field, so fast they seemed chasing the little fish that made their home in the brook. even away down by reuben's house a few had strayed, and reached home so much before violet that she began to think the waves had, after all, as spry feet as her own. chapter xvi. alone in the wood. her flowers safe in the water, the little girl seated herself on a stone that seemed made purposely for her, it was cushioned so softly with moss; and overhead the boughs of the great trees bent towards her, and rustled and waved like so many fans, and shut her in so closely from the rest of the wood that you might have passed close by, and never guessed she was there. the kitten went fast asleep in her lap, and violet, folding her hands, looked up among the leaves, and across where the boughs parted a little into the wood, and down at her feet, where the grass grew so long and fine, and was sprinkled over with such pretty little leaves--as tiny, some of them, as violet's finger nails, and yet as beautifully scolloped or pointed, and as perfectly finished, as the stoutest laurel or broadest oak leaf in the wood; and, noticing this, violet wondered if god, who had taken as much pains in making little leaves as big ones, had not taken as much pains with, and didn't care as much for, little _people_ as big ones. who knew but he loved her, in her ragged dress, just as well as narcissa in all her finery, or even the tall, rich doctor, who tried to mend toady's leg? then she listened, and felt how still it was there alone with the trees; and the sweet, low sounds that came through this stillness were beautiful as music. far off she could hear the cool, sparkling brook foaming and hurrying over its stony bed; and then the air came breathing through the trees, as if they sighed for joy; and each leaf trembled, and seemed rising to meet the air and fly away with it, and then, falling back again, nestled closer to its neighbor leaves, and whispered softly, as if it were making love to them. but there came a louder rustling among the boughs, and a flutter of wings, and then burst forth a clear, wild song, so near that violet held her breath; for a golden oriole had alighted close beside her, and chirped, and twittered, and trilled, as if he meant to say aloud what the leaves and the brook had been whispering. when he paused, the leaves all clapped their hands for more; and oriole understood them, for he gave another and another song, waiting between each to wet his bill in some bunch of bright, juicy berries. violet did not suspect that the reason the sunshine looked so bright, and the shadows so cool and refreshing, and the leaves and brook so wide awake and so musical, was because the good fairies love and contentment were watching over her; and the beautiful purple light from love's wings, and from contentment's starry crown, and the fragrance from her lily urn, would make any, the dullest place, bright. but as the bird flew away, fairy love whispered inside of violet's heart, "the bird has gone to her nest. isn't it time for violet to be thinking about _her_ nest, and the good mother, who will be there first if she does not make haste and run home?" love's voice was lower than the whisper of the leaves or the far-off murmur of the brook; but the little girl heard and obeyed it for all that. chapter xvii. the kitten's bath. violet had picked a whole apron full of leaves, reaching up in the trees for the largest and handsomest, and then, kneeling where they grew close to the ground, had collected the lovely, delicate ones that were so small you would not notice unless you were looking for them--broad, shining oak leaves, long, graceful chestnut leaves, and some from the fluttering poplar, and some from the hemlocks and pines, tall ferns, and maiden's-hair, and grass, clover, sorrel, ground pine, and hundreds more. violet had been counting how many kinds there were; and as i have forgotten, the first time you go into the woods you must try yourself, and lay them side by side, as she did, to see which is prettiest. but away flew all the leaves, as, directly she heard love's voice, the little girl sprang to her feet, waking puss out of her nap so suddenly that she spit, and put up her back, and her hair stood all on end with fright. then you might have heard violet's laughter ringing merrily enough through the silent wood. such an unusual noise startled a whole flock of crows, where, hid in a tall pine tree, they had, like pussy, been taking a nap, and scolded well because they were awakened. violet wondered if it would help the matter to make such a noise about it with their hoarse voices, which sounded as if they were made on purpose to scold--so grating and shrill. she went to the brook for her flowers, while the kitten followed, gaping such great gapes that violet told her she'd better take care, or she wouldn't be able to close her mouth again. and looking back among the trees, as she climbed the stone wall and was going out into the sunshine again, violet wondered if god _could_ have made that beautiful place for no one but her; no one else entered it, she knew. "i guess god thinks it's no matter how small i am, so long as i'm large enough to love it all," she thought; and i don't believe violet was wrong. as they went home, a great cricket flew from under the kitten's feet and frightened her again, for she was hardly awake. away she sprang to catch it, and away sprang the cricket, while violet had to run fast to keep up with them, laughing to see how puzzled puss would be when the cricket hid under the long grass; and while she was pawing, and purring, and looking up to violet as if she'd ask, "where is he?" out he'd spring again, directly past her nose, and in among the grass would hide, and peep at her, while she looked every where but in the right place. at last, in her eagerness, the kitten jumped rather too far, and went into the brook; and in her fright i don't know what would have happened next if violet had not seized her just as, mewing and trembling, the water was washing her down stream. she lapped violet's face and purred as the little girl tried to dry her fur and warm her again in her bosom; but she was a wilful puss, and preferred creeping along in the sunshine, shaking each of her four paws at every step in the drollest fashion. but she didn't chase any more crickets _that_ day. this affair of the kitten's, and waiting to look for her berries, which violet had hid among the bushes so safely she could not find them herself at first, delayed her so long that she almost flew the rest of the way; for when the old people went to market with their goods, they always came home tired and hungry, and were very glad of a cup of warm tea. so she did not stop flying until a fire was made and the table set; and just then she heard voices at the door. chapter xviii. the price of toady's leg. reuben and mary had come; and glad enough violet was to see them; but this, like all her days, had been so long that she forgot to say a word about her flowers and the gilded cup; she could not remember back to the morning, until her mother asked if she knew whose birthday this was; and then it all came back, and she gave more thanks and kisses than there had been flowers in the cup. "but why is it empty?" asked reuben. and violet told about the carriage, and narcissa, and toady's misfortune, and the kind doctor, who had waited to mend the mischief his daughter had done, and how he took her violets, leaving money in their stead. you should have seen the old people hold up their hands when violet showed them the coin she had only looked upon as so many bright stones. their marketing had not sold as well as usual, and the winter was to be a hard one for poor people, every one said; and they had been telling each other, as they came home, that if providence had not taken care of them so well thus far, they should certainly expect to starve now. and here stood violet with six silver dollars! they could hardly believe their eyes. some fairy must have given it to the child. true enough, old reuben--the fairy love! the rich doctor might have given six times as much, and never have felt the loss enough to remember it. but i cannot tell you how many comforts his money procured for the poor old people. mary had a new warm gown, and reuben a pair of rubbers and some flannel, and violet a blanket shawl, and what was left they spent in tea, rice, flour, and molasses. every afternoon, when the old lady sat down to sew that winter, feeling warmer than she had for many a cold month, and seeing so beautifully, too, from the light that came in at a new window they had bought for the hut where they lived, mary would bless the rich man, and the good child god had given her. and every time reuben waded through the snow towards town, and did not wet his feet, nor come home with rheumatism, as he used to the winter before, he, too, would think of the rich man, and thank god for his little daughter, and wonder if ever _any_ one had so many blessings as he. violet too, with her thick, warm shawl, could go to the district school; and very soon she learned more out of books than reuben and mary had known in all their lives. chapter xix. going to school. violet's years were like her days--busy and joyous; for they were spent in making all about her happy, and in finding new wonder and beauty in the world. winter evenings she would sit on her cricket at the old people's feet, and amuse them by telling her adventures on the way to and from school, or the wonderful things she had learned there. perhaps it had stormed, and she would describe how beautiful it was to see every thing folded in a mantle of white snow, and to run through the pearly dust, and scatter it far and wide, and to see it gathering like a world of blossoms in the branches of the dark pine trees. then she would tell how, when it cleared away, every thing shone, and glittered, and stood so still in the cold, blue air, and she could not hear her own footsteps any more than those of the squirrels that darted along the stone wall, and how she had sung, and shouted, and clapped her hands for company. or she had found a half-frozen bird, and, picking it up with her own half-frozen hands, had warmed it to life, while she felt its little frightened heart beating beneath her shawl--that heart and her own the only moving things in the wide, white silence. and then how glad it made her feel when her bird sprang forth into the sky again, and she watched his shadow circling round and round her, until he alighted in a tree just as she passed underneath, and, with his fluttering wings sent down a shower of snow flakes all over her. this, she supposed, was the only way he had of telling how well and strong he felt, and how he loved her for what she had done to him. but violet could hardly make the old folks believe what she heard at school about far-off countries and strange animals--snakes large enough to crush a horse and rider in their folds, and fishes so huge that half a dozen people could sit inside of them. every child knows these things now, and has pictures of them in his books; but when reuben and mary were young there were few schools; and they, poor people, had to work instead of study. on summer mornings, after her work was done, violet would bring home roots from her favorite wood, and plant them about the house, until you would hardly know it, it was so buried in beautiful green vines. you could not have made violet think there was a pleasanter home on earth than hers, when the clematis was starred all over with white blossoms, and the honeysuckle she had trained over the door was full of bright yellow flowers, and the hop vine hung full of its beautiful cones, and among all shone the bright pink wild roses, and the whole air was sweet with her own favorite violets. birds built nests within the vine, and hatched their young, and sang loudly and sweetly to their friends in the hut as often as they cared to hear. chapter xx. old reuben dead. nothing pleased reuben half as much as to sit in the shadow of the vines, watch the flowers grow, and feel that all this beauty was violet's work; for the old gardener loved flowers dearly; and when he had grown too old to work himself, he was so glad to feel that his garden pets need not be smothered up in weeds, and die. so there he sat in the sun day after day, while he grew thinner and more feeble; and one pleasant afternoon, when violet thought he had taken too long a nap, she went to waken him for fear he might take cold. but she paused to look at the good old man as he sat there with his hands folded on his bosom, and such a beautiful smile on the wrinkled face, and the wind stirring the gray locks, while his head rested among the fresh summer leaves. reuben never awoke; he was dead. violet burst into tears, and wished for a moment that she could die herself; but she thought of the mother who was too infirm to take care of herself, and who had lived with reuben longer and would feel his loss more than she. just then a bird flew from his nest in the vine, and soaring slowly, sang low at first, and sweetly, and then louder and louder, till he was lost among the clouds. and violet remembered what her father had said so often, that one of these days he should shake off the old aching body, and soar as lightly as any bird, and live as happily, up in that calm heaven. they buried reuben under a great elm tree in sight of his own garden, and where he had often rested after his work, and watched the orioles building their nests or teaching their young to sing. lonely and sad enough it was in the hut when violet and her mother went home and saw the old man's empty chair, and his garden tools hanging on the wall. "it won't be long before i shall follow him," said old mary, "and then god will take care of our child." "but i will take care of my mother first, for a great many years," said violet, drawing closer, and putting her arms around mary protectingly; for violet, though still young, was no longer a little child, as when we knew her first. the blue eyes, though, were just as bright and as full of love and tenderness; and the light hair, which was folded now in wavy bands over a calm white forehead, when the light touched it, had the same golden look as of old. she had grown tall too, and healthy, and was graceful as a bird, and had a low, musical voice like the brook, and a smile like sunshine, and, in short, was beautiful as a fairy herself. while she sat there, with her low, sweet voice, trying to console her mother, and now and then her own sunny smile breaking through even her tears, the door opened, and their landlord entered. he had sold the pasture and the whole blackberry hill to a rich man who would build there immediately; and they must move this very night, for the hut stood in his way. chapter xxi. a new home and old friends. trouble seemed to come all at once; they had no money and no place to store their humble furniture; but violet always hoped for the best, and only smiled when they began to move the rough chairs and table her father had nailed together. "there's one comfort," she said; "our things are not so fine that a little dew will hurt them. we may leave them here till we find a better place." but it did make her heart ache to see the men tear away her vines, even from above old reuben's seat, and then, with a few axe strokes, batter down the wall, till nothing was left of the dear old home but a little pile of boards. "we had better go to this rich man and tell our story," said her mother, as they walked sadly out of the pasture for, as they thought, the last time. "he was boarding," the landlord said, "at a hotel in the village where reuben had carried his marketing, only three or four miles thence." so, leaning on violet's arm, old mary crept along the dusty road, farther than she had walked for many a day, and was tired enough when they reached the hotel door. not so violet, who was full of hope, and had in her head more plans than one for finding a new home. they asked for the stranger, dr. story, were led to his parlor, and told their simple tale. he was interested at once, and very angry that they had been treated so badly on his account, and offered to give them money, while he hardly took his eyes from violet's face. "no," she said, smiling; "we did not come to beg, but thought, as we had lost our home through you, you might be willing to help us find another." "and how shall i do that?" asked the doctor. then violet told him that she had studied evenings so long it seemed to her she could teach in the village school; but she was poor, and had no friends to speak a good word for her with the committee. "what is your name?" asked the gentleman, suddenly. "violet." "i thought so; and what has become of toady?" it was the doctor who had mended toady's leg so many years ago, and the young man who sat reading on the sofa was no other than alfred, his son, with the fairy ambition still keeping him hard at work, and making him care for little else but books. he looked up though, and listened to violet's story, and, as he watched her, actually closed his book, and always afterwards closed it if she entered the room; for fairy love was stronger than ambition, and he could no more see in the purple light which fell from her wings than an owl could in broad noonday. "but where is narcissa?" asked violet. the father's face grew sad as he told how, the very day they were at the hut, in riding home the carriage was overturned, and narcissa not only lamed for life, but thrown against a tree, one of whose branches entered her eye and put it out. when violet heard of this her eyes filled with tears, and forgetting all the unkindness she had received from this girl, she only remembered how handsome narcissa was, and how happy she seemed as they drove away. and the fairy love shed such a beautiful light around the poor berry girl, that ambition hid in a corner, and alfred didn't think of his books again that day. chapter xxii. the new old home. the doctor lent them money enough to hire a pleasant, sunny room in the village street, where her mother could sit and watch the passers by when she was tired of knitting and reading, for she was alone now almost all the day, and violet was mistress of the village school. one morning, as mary sat in her comfortable chair, and was wishing old reuben could see what a beautiful home she had, a carriage drove to the door below, and then came a knock at her own door, and dr. story entered. "i have come to give you a ride this pleasant day," he said. "we will call for violet. wouldn't you like to see how i have improved the old blackberry field?" mary was delighted. she had never ridden in a carriage in her life; and to go in that splendid one of the doctor's, with velvet cushions, and footmen behind! she sat very straight, you may be sure, and kept tucking in her gown; for though it was new, she was afraid it might harm the seats, and her wrinkled face was shining all over with smiles. they met violet on her way home from school, and she was almost as much pleased as the old lady with her ride. but what was their surprise to find, instead of the little footpath, a broad avenue through the pasture, with young trees on each side, and the hill where the blackberry vines had been, covered with waving oats, and in front of violet's own beloved wood a beautiful great house large as a palace! "but now look on the other side," said dr. story. where the old hut had stood was the prettiest little cottage you ever saw, with the very clematis, and honeysuckle, and wild roses violet had planted trained over it; and there was reuben's garden all in order, just as they had left it; and under the great elm tree there was his grave, with a new white stone at the head, and the old man's name and age cut in it. they alighted at the cottage door, and violet noticed how the air was perfumed with her own favorite flowers. while alfred stooped to gather some of these for violet, his father said,-"do you remember, mary, whose birthday this is?" "sure enough, it's violet's!" exclaimed the old woman. "and this," said the doctor, "is violet's birthday present--this house and garden, and these beds of flowers." but before they could thank him, he added,-"in return, you are to give up your school, and teach my own children. will you do it, violet? they are so young it will be easy at first, and meantime you shall have teachers yourself." pleased as violet and mary were, i don't think they were half as glad as alfred, who threw his book down into the grass so suddenly at his father's speech, i should not be surprised if it broke fairy ambition's head. chapter xxiii. alfred. the cottage was all furnished, and had even a foot stove for the old lady, and a soft, stuffed easy chair in the parlor, while on the woodshed wall hung reuben's tools; and what do you think hopped up from under a board as violet stood looking at these? toady, on his three legs, who winked his one round eye at her, as if he would say, "isn't all this fine?" then there was a school room, where violet's pupils came every morning, and learned to love her as if she were their own sister. after school she would tell them stories about the birds, and squirrels, and flowers, among which she had lived so long, or take them to walk in the old pleasant places. they told their sister narcissa, who, like violet, was grown to a young lady now, so much about the new teacher, that one pleasant day she went to the cottage with them. violet was grieved to see how the handsome face was scarred and spoiled; but narcissa said,-"it was the best thing that ever happened to me, violet--that accident; it cured me of pride and selfishness." and it had, truly. narcissa was so gentle and patient, you would not have known her for the same person. she grew as fond of violet as the children were; and when they were busy in the school room, studying, she would often sit and read to the old lady in the sunny little room where she slept and spent almost all her time. this room looked out towards the violet beds, and over it the vines grew most luxuriantly; their blossoms looked in at her window, and their shadows flickered over the bright-red carpet; while old mary sat in her easy chair thinking of reuben, who was dead and gone, and rejoicing that she could live and die where every thing reminded her of him, and be buried by his side. by his side she _was_ buried, under the great elm tree, but not until she had lived many years in the cottage with violet--the happiest years of her life. then violet's friends at the great house said she had better go and live with them, it was so lonely in the old place now; and about this time alfred came home from india, where he had lived long enough to grow very sickly and very rich. he told violet that he had been earning money to take care of her, and now, if she would be his wife, they might still live in the cottage and be happy all their days. but alfred's father was proud and ambitious, and would not be satisfied to have his son marry a poor berry girl. this violet knew well enough; so she never told alfred that she loved him, but only said "no" to his offers, at which he felt so badly he threatened to shoot himself. but instead of this, he concluded afterwards to marry some one else--a lady, rich, and accomplished, and gay, who made the great house merrier than it had ever been before she went to it. there were balls, and parties, and concerts, strangers coming and going constantly; there was no such thing as quiet. violet was unwilling to exchange for this her pleasant, sunny little cottage; the vines and the elm tree and crowded garden beds had grown so dear to her, and the very birds and squirrels seemed to know and love violet, and sing and chip to her, "_do_ stay." how could she refuse? who would take care of poor toady if she went? and who would feed the old faded cat lying now on the doorstep half asleep, opening half an eye sometimes to watch her kittens play, and then going off into a doze again like a worn-out grandmother, as she had become. who will believe it?--she was the same kitten that followed violet into the wood about the time our story began, and wasn't old enough then to catch a cricket or keep from drowning in the brook. chapter xxiv. narcissa. while violet sat on the doorstep wondering whether to please alfred and his father by going to live with them or to stay with her favorites in the cottage, narcissa came in sight. she was limping along with her crutches through the grass, and looked very pale and tired; for the walk from the wood to the cottage, which was nothing to violet, was a great undertaking to the lame girl. she never walked as far in any other direction; but some how the path to violet's seemed the smoothest and easiest. shall i tell you why? because the fairy love went before her, picking up every rough stone and bur or brier, and when the sun was hottest, shaded the invalid with her delicate purple wings. violet, too, had taught narcissa how many pleasant things there are in the world even for one who is sick. so, instead of fretting because the way was dusty and the sunshine hot, narcissa looked up at the cool green leaves which were fanning her, and watched along all the way to see what beautiful flowers the heat and light were opening. she, too, had learned to love the cool song of the brook; to be glad--though she could not follow them herself, poor cripple!--that the butterflies could flutter about and drink honey from all the flowers, and the squirrels could dart away with their nuts, and the birds go sailing and singing up into the far blue sky. her old fairy, envy, was banished forever from narcissa's heart, and in its place dwelt violet's fairy, love, and contentment, love's unfailing friend. the moment these fairies came, her heart began to grow larger and purer; for it only takes a small soul to hold such a miserable little sprite as envy, who is so mean and poor that he makes every place poor into which he enters, though he looks fine enough in his cloak streaked with purple, gold, and red, like the gaudiest of tulips. no wonder narcissa was glad to make the exchange of friends; for love soon taught her that the way to be happy is to forget all about ourselves, and be glad whenever another is glad, no matter how humble a thing. so when she watched the sunshine creep towards a flower that had been waiting for it in the shade, or when she saw a young bird fly for the first time, or, in frosty mornings that made her sick frame shiver, when she heard the nuts rattle down, and knew the frost had opened their burs, and that the children would be glad, narcissa's heart would be so full of sympathy that i am not sure but she was the happiest of all. chapter xxv. new plans. violet saw narcissa's white dress among the trees,--for the young elms in the avenue had grown so high as to meet now overhead,--and ran out to welcome her. she helped the invalid into her house, brought her mother's easy chair out to the porch, and a footstool and fan, and last of all a little table, upon which she placed fresh flowers and a new book that had been given her, and then hurried away to mix a cooling drink, of which narcissa was very fond. "how good you are, violet," said narcissa when she came back, "and how little i deserve so much from you! a toad just hopped over the step--the queerest old fellow--looked as if he had been through a dozen wars, with his one eye and a missing leg. i could have laughed, we were so much alike; and yet i couldn't, for he made me think of that first day we came to your father's house, and----" "o, yes," interrupted violet; "and only think how much good has come to _us_ from that first visit--how comfortably we have lived ever since!--your father was so kind." "but _i_ wasn't kind," said narcissa, looking very sorrowful; "i did you nothing but harm; and think what you have done for me." "brought you a chair and a fan," laughed violet; "wonderful deeds!" "you may laugh if you will," answered the lady; "but i would not give what i have gained from you in exchange for a hundred times what i ever had before. my beauty only made me vexed if i was not admired; my health and strength made me restless, kept me always in search of what i could not find nor buy. beauty, and health, and money are good for nothing by themselves. o violet, you have given health and beauty to my _heart_, and now i am rich and happy because no living thing can be glad but i grow richer by sharing its joy--those cool cloud shadows flickering over the grass--this sweetness the air has caught from your violet beds; and look how that humming bird enjoys the dew and honey he is drinking out of the roses, hanging among them by his long, slim bill; i can almost taste it with him as clearly as i smell the odor he shakes from the roses with his glittering wings; and i feel, too, the coolness the shadows must bring to the heated grass. for all of this, my friend, i thank you constantly." violet was not fond of hearing herself praised; she thought it pleasure enough to help any one; so she changed the subject by offering narcissa some more of the refreshing drink. she answered,-"not now, i thank you; but pray where do you buy this cordial?--it is so much pleasanter to me than the rich wines we have at home, which always make me sick." when violet told how she had made the cordial herself from wild raspberries of her own picking, had pressed the juice out with her own white hands, and that the same hands had made the light biscuit she brought with it, and arranged the tasteful bouquet, and nailed up the luxuriant rosebushes, narcissa was quite enchanted, and wished she could live as independently herself. "o," she said, "i am so tired of the noise and confusion at home, and so many new faces, such rich food. if i could live here, violet, with you!" "why not make me a visit? and if you are contented with my simple fare, i shall be very glad to have you stay as long as you will. we might have beautiful times together." "are you in earnest?" asked narcissa, eagerly. "i shall be so happy and so independent here! and i won't be in the way either, for you shall teach me to work, and i can paint, and draw, and play on the piano, and read ever so many languages. all these i will teach you." she smiled, and violet asked why. "i was thinking that the accomplishment of which i was proudest once must be taught by some one else." "why?" "every one praised my dancing; but how in the world could i teach you with my wooden leg? i will learn of you to work, to help others, to find out the best things in books, and the most beautiful things every where. why, we shall be like two fairy queens in our little cottage palace." narcissa's father, instead of objecting to this plan, was very much pleased with it--said the change would be better than any medicine for the invalid. chapter xxvi. spring at the cottage. love and contentment waved their bright wings now; for the two friends became so fond of each other they were not contented apart. narcissa even grew beautiful again, there was such a peaceful smile upon her face, and such an earnest, loving look within her eyes. it was a real pleasure for violet to comfort and amuse this friend, from whom she was constantly learning some new thing. narcissa painted beautifully, and violet would bring her the freshest and loveliest flowers to copy; so there was hardly a blossom or a green leaf in the neighborhood, from april to november, but you could find it almost living again in their portfolio. they would watch the birds too, find out all their names, and their different notes, and how they fed and taught their young; and violet worked in her garden more than ever now, because narcissa's maid took care of the cottage, and kept it as neat as even its mistress wished. she had the lawn before the house enclosed in a border shaped like the half of a great ring, and this was planted full of snowdrops, which blossom quite early, you know, and are very delicate and beautiful. it was like a ring of living pearls; and when these wilted, odors began to steal towards the cottage door, which tempted violet to look under another border thick with green leaves, and there would be more violets than you could count; so the pearl ring changed to one of emerald and amethyst. meantime the sweetbrier by the doorway would begin to have pale green buds on its brown stems, and the honeysuckle and bitter-sweet came forth in fresh green shoots, until there were so many new, tender, fragrant leaves, and buds, and blossoms that the birds were sure to select it as the place for their nests. narcissa loved to watch them while violet was busy with her work. a flock of robins would settle upon the plum tree in the garden, peck at the gum, and dig insect eggs out from the bark, and then fly away towards the wood, singing all together; but soon two would steal back to the plum tree, and chirp and twitter to each other, and look at the cottage, and then at the wood, and then at the thickest boughs of the plum. presently both would fly together towards the house, one settling on the sweetbrier, and one on the roof, and then on the chimney, and then hop along the porch, and then back both would go to have another talk in the plum tree, and then fly off to find their brothers and sisters in the wood. but sure as another morning came, back would come the birds too, looking with their little bright eyes all about the cottage, and always settling at last on that one sweetbrier branch. then they would begin to bring straws and hair, which they wove together into a soft little nest, working away as busy and happy as birds could be, now and then going back to the plum tree, as if from a distance to admire their tiny home. before very long, looking out of the cottage window, you might find the nest full of little cunning eggs; but you could not see these often, for the birds kept them almost constantly sheltered with their own warm breasts, waiting until the little things within should grow strong enough to break and creep out of their shells. all this time the father bird would bring the mother food--bring her ripe cherries, seeds, buds, and worms; and sometimes he would take her place, letting her fly away for a look at the woods, or a drink from the sparkling brook. but some bright morning you would hear the old birds twittering so joyfully, you might know something had come to pass; and the first time they flew away, if you looked from the window again, there would be, instead of the eggs, a little heap of the homeliest things in the world, with great eyes, and great legs and claws, and long red necks, and mouths half as large as the bodies, gaping at you--not a feather to be seen except a little down, like whiskers, about their ears. birds grow very fast; you would be surprised to find how soon they began to fill, and more than fill, the nest, until some morning one after another would hop out among the sweetbrier stems, and show you their glossy backs and speckled breasts, while the old birds watched so proud and happy, and began teaching them to fly and to sing. one morning towards the last of may, when violet was in the garden transplanting her forget-me-nots, and narcissa, in the porch, sat watching her, enjoying the cool, fresh air, the new life that budded forth from every thing, and the freedom and joy of the golden orioles as they flashed in and out among the elm boughs, and twittered forth their wild and plaintive melodies, her attention was caught by a stir and fluttering in the sweetbrier, and then a song from the larch tree opposite. these sounds came from two yellow birds, a mother and her little one. the young one would go, "twe-te-twee," timidly and sweetly, with such a tired tremble at the end; then forth poured the old bird a clear, connected strain, half repeated it, and then paused; and the little sweet voice came again, "pee-te-wee--pee-te-wee--twee-te-wee." it was too cunning, and the old bird took up the trembling, broken strain so clearly, with such ease, "twitter, witter, witter--wee-te-twee-te-twee--twitter, witter, witter"--"wee-te-twee," ended the young one, with that same little tremble in the midst, the same baby sweetness, just such as in a child would make you snatch it up and kiss it--"twee-te-wee." narcissa wondered if there could have been more exquisite music in paradise. chapter xxvii. violet's scholars. violet still had her little school of narcissa's brothers and sisters; but she was so gentle and patient that study was never very hard to them, though the lessons might be long; and then at recess time the boys would go out and pick cherries, or apples, or plums, from the garden, bring them in on fresh green leaves, and they would all sit in the porch and have a little feast together. saturday afternoons they would take a walk in the woods; and violet taught them how to weave oak leaves into crowns, and to make necklaces out of dandelion stems and lilac flowers, and baskets of rushes. they always took something home to narcissa, who could not enjoy long walks because of her lameness. one would pick up a pocket full of checkerberries, and one a handful of the young, spicy leaves; and the prettiest branch of hawthorn, the longest-stemmed violets, the largest-leaved bough of oak, were sure to go home for her. when it grew late in the year, they had such sport gathering chestnuts, hazelnuts, and shagbarks; the boys climbed the trees, and shook or beat them with long poles, and down the nuts would come rattling by baskets full. these were stored away in the cottage; for they all knew that what violet kept for them was safe. when they came near the cottage again after one of these excursions, looking so bright, with their rosy cheeks, and flying hair, and laughing faces, narcissa's smiling face was always at the window watching, and quickly appeared at the door to welcome them. sometimes they all went home crowned with autumn leaves, sometimes with woodbine or ground pine, and early in spring with bloodroots, violets, or anemones. but the prettiest crown, and the rarest flower, and the juiciest bunch of berries were always for narcissa. in stormy days, or when the ground was covered with snow, violet still made the holidays pleasant for her scholars; they would play games and sing in the afternoon. she would teach the girls how to dress their dolls, and the boys how to make pasteboard boxes and kites, and how to put puzzles together. then at evening they would gather around the fireplace, with narcissa's great chair in the midst of the circle, and she or violet would tell stories for hours together. one of these stories narcissa liked so much that she wrote it down, and after violet was dead,--for, like the snowdrops and wild roses, our violet died at last,--she read it to me. i will try and remember it for you; but first i must tell what sorrow there was in the great house on the hill, and not there only, but among all the poor in the neighborhood, when violet went to heaven. under the elm tree they buried her, beside mary and reuben; and the orioles she loved to watch still hatch their young and sing sweet songs above her grave. alfred wanted to build a great marble monument over her; for he said the whole world did not contain a better or lovelier woman. but narcissa said,-"no; she has built her own monument of good deeds, which will last after marble has mouldered away. let us cover her grave with her own sweet violets, that whenever we pass we may think of _our_ violet." long afterwards, even to this day, when any who knew her witness a kind action, or meet one with a cheerful, hopeful spirit, and a sunny smile, they say, "it is just like violet." so, dear children, let us try to make friends with her fairies, love and contentment, and let us remember that whenever the thought of her urges _us_ to be cheerful, contented, and loving, we, too, shall plant a flower on violet's grave. violet's story. chapter i. it was a snowy night, and the children, as we gathered around the fire, began to ask for stories. i told them a queer dream of my own, and then they insisted that violet should give one of her fairy tales. while she was puzzling her brain for a new one, my little sister mabel, who had climbed upon the sofa and was nestling close to her, asked,-"what makes you love violets so much? here even in winter time you have some in your bosom. aren't you sweeter than these little homely things?" "narcissa," she answered, "has told a dream, and now i will tell one. it's a kind of fairy story besides, and partly true. you must not ask any questions about the little girl, or make any guesses. her name happened to be just like yours, mabel." "little girl! i thought 'twas a _dream_," said mabel. [illustration: mabel's dream.] "listen, then: a little girl went out one day in search of strawberries. she went into a wide green field that was starred all over with dandelions, and clusters of wild lilies hanging like bells around their stems, and violets, and blue-eyed grass. "there was not a living being in this place except the birds, and little fishes in the brook; for through the long grass all around the field ran a stream of clearest water over a dark-brown, pebbly bed. "rising on every side, so as to shut the field in by itself, were hills closely covered with trees and vines. here birds sang all day long, and flowers bloomed, and nuts and berries ripened; the ground was in some places slippery with fallen pine leaves, and in others soft with a carpet of fresh moss. "it was shady in these woods, but in the field the sun shone, opened the lilies, ripened the strawberries, and made the little girl feel bright and glad, although it was so warm. "strawberries are tiny things to pick; the little girl thought it would take a million to fill her pail; and often she longed to leave them and gather flowers, or play with the fish in the brook, or rest in the cool wood. "but she had always loved violets, just as i love them; and a gardener's wife had promised mabel that the first time she brought a pail full of strawberries to her, she should have in return a whole bunch of these fragrant flowers. "so, stooping among the lilies, which were almost as tall as herself, and picking one by one, one by one, the bright sun pouring its heat down upon her, after a great while her pail was heaped with berries. almost as fragrant as violets they were, too, and looked, upon their long green stems, like little drops of coral. "mabel's work was not over now; she climbed half way up the hill, found a beautiful shady place, where the grass was long, and the roots of a great tree had coiled themselves into a seat, which was cushioned over with moss. "she threw aside her sun bonnet, and began to pick off the green hulls from her fruit, while the broad oak leaves overhead kept fanning her, and lifting the matted curls from her warm forehead. "but then came a great mosquito, and then another, and another; they would whirl around her head, buzzing and buzzing, and fly from her forehead to her nose, and from nose to hand, and hand to shoulder, and then creep into the curly hair, and buzz so close to her ear it frightened her. "twenty times she had a mind to throw her berries into the brook and run home; but then she thought of the violets--how splendid it would be to have them all to herself; she should not give away one flower, not one, she had worked so hard for them. "throwing the stems away lowered the contents of her pail so much that mabel had to go out in the hot field and pick again, and then back to the wood where the mosquitoes were, and work another hour. she never had such a long, hard task before. "but the little girl travelled home at last with her pail brimful in one hand, and a splendid great bunch of lilies in the other. this last served as a parasol till she reached the gardener's gate. "then, taking her violets, mabel hurried home. there were more of them, and they were larger and sweeter, than she had even hoped. she hardly took her eyes from them until she reached her mother's door. "while she was placing her flowers in water, a woman came up the hot, dusty road, with a young child in her arms. she looked tired and warm, and said she had eaten nothing all day long. mabel looked in the closet; there was plenty of bread, but she dared not give it without her mother's leave. she looked in all the rooms; but her mother was not to be found; and when the poor woman had rested a little, mabel watched her creep out into the blazing sun again, dragging the little child after her. she could not bear to think that while she had every thing to make her happy, others must go hungry and tired; and 'suppose it were my mother,' mabel thought; 'i _must_ do something for her; yet i have nothing in the world to give.' "'except the violets,' whispered something inside of mabel's heart. snatching them from the table, she ran after the beggar, and said,-"'there, i gave a whole pail of strawberries for these; perhaps you can sell them for a loaf of bread.'" the poor woman looked so pleased, and thanked mabel so heartily, that she felt the violets could never have caused her so much joy as it had done to give them away. chapter ii. "not many days after these events, mabel went again to the field where the lilies and strawberries grew, played about in the sun until she was tired, and then seated herself under a shady tree to rest, and hear the birds and rustling leaves, and watch the brook glide through the grass. "the grass about her was long, and fine, and soft as any bed; it was cool too, and mabel, listening to the quiet murmur of the brook, fell fast asleep; but all the while she thought herself wide awake, and wondered why the sound of the rippling of water changed to something like the tread of tiny feet; and then there came the sweetest, most delicate music; and all at once--could it be?--she saw a multitude of little beings marching through the very pathway her footsteps had made in the grass, and approaching her. they were hardly taller than a grasshopper would be if he could stand up like a man, and had formed themselves into the drollest little procession. "first came the musicians; there were flute players, using each a joint of grass stem for instrument, bell ringers, jingling lilies of the valley, and trumpeters tooting through white lilac blossoms. then came the guards, dressed in uniform, and bearing each a fern leaf for banner at once and parasol. with these leaves they shaded a group of little women, who marched along as dignified as nuns until they came to a bunch of fennel leaves that grew near mabel's resting-place. towards this they flew, for the tiny people had wings; they climbed the stems and clung to the feathery leaves, and then all at once, espying mabel, trooped towards her, and ranged themselves upon a platform of plantain leaves. "they were funny little women--tall, and prim, and slim, wearing green mantles and such big purple hoods. they were more polite than some larger people, and did nothing but bow, and courtesy, and smile to mabel, who asked them who they were and whence they came. "they shook their heads, and laughed, while the air was filled with sweetest odor. at last one said,-"'we are flower spirits. every year we come to earth and live in some blossom, which we fill with beauty and fragrance; but when it withers we go back to fairyland until another spring. we have, besides our fairy queen, a queen whom we choose every year among mortals, and serve her faithfully. we have just returned from working in her service.' "'are you not hungry?' asked mabel. 'i have brought luncheon. won't you eat some of my gingerbread?' "the fairies laughed again. 'we live,' they said, 'upon flower dust and dewdrops; we should not relish mortal food.' "then they called from the attendants who lingered among the fennel leaves their steward and butler; and it was mabel's turn to laugh when she saw how queerly they ate. "some blossoms from the elder bush, little ivory urns, served them for goblets. these were set upon a mushroom, and some red clover blossoms were rolled around the table for seats. the little men had tried in vain to break these blossoms off; so they caught a caterpillar, whipped him along with grass blades, and made him use his teeth for a knife. then they had caught a toad, and heaped his round back with the blossoms, which rolled off as fast as they could be picked up again; and by the time they reached their mistresses, the fairy servants were warm and red in the face as any hay makers. "the fairies grew so hungry with waiting that they even tasted a crumb of mabel's gingerbread; but not liking this very well, they took out from among the provisions that were packed in a wild rose, the petals nicely fastened together with cobweb threads, some poppy and caraway seeds, upon which they began to gnaw with their little white teeth. "'you must have lived in violets,' said mabel. 'every time you shake your bonnets and laugh, the air is full of their odor. can't you smell it?' "'yes, for we were violets once ourselves, and all blossomed in the same garden; some of us grew from the same root, and a queer life we have led in the last few days. one hot day this very week the gardener's wife picked us in the greatest haste, and tied us together so tightly we were all but smothered for a while. the woman gave us to a little girl, who was just putting our stems in some cool water, and we half dead with thirst, when she must needs give us away to a beggar woman.' "'why,' exclaimed mabel, 'were you _my_ violets?' "the fairies only laughed. "'the woman held us in her hot hands until we were all but wilted, and she gave one or two of my sisters to the poor tired child that followed her through the dust.' "'what is the matter?' asked mabel; 'your eyes are full of tears.' "'i am thinking of my sisters, whom we shall never meet again;' and the tears ran down the fairy's little cheeks. 'the child was overtired, and so warm that when they came to a resting-place, and she lay down to sleep, she never awoke again. a lady who had taken pity upon her laid the little body out for burial, and finding those few violets still clinched in the dead hand, would not remove them; so my sisters were buried in her grave, and must remain there no one knows how long; for while we live on earth we must take care of these bodies, frail flowers though they be. if we omit this, all our happiness and usefulness are gone. the kind lady who buried the beggar child bought us from the woman, all wilted as we were. in her shady parlor we soon grew refreshed, lifted our heads again, and in gratitude breathed forth odors, till the room was all perfumed. a lovely girl came to visit the lady, and said so much about our sweetness, that, to our joy, we were divided with her. she took us to her home, a splendid place, all light, and gilding, and flowers, curtains, and cushions, and velvet carpets, and marble stands. upon one of these last we were placed, in a white parian cup, but hardly had time to regain our breath when one of the maiden's lovers came, selected me from among the rest, and twirled me around his finger as he talked, until my stem was broken, and i all but dead. in a lucky hour he let me fall, and, lame as i was, i caught by the leg of a great fly, who whizzed me out of the window in a second, buzzing so all the while that he almost stunned me. i have just found my friends here, and have not had time to ask about their adventures.' "the little woman, tired with talking so long, sank into her seat on the plantain leaf, and taking a caraway seed from her pocket, began nibbling, while her companions finished the story. "'we have had less trouble,' they said. 'the benevolent lady took us to a dismal prison, to be sure, and we were shut up for a while with a man who had murdered another, and was waiting to be hung. he had forgotten his own mother and his early home; but when he looked at us, the past came back to him. he remembered the little garden by his father's house, and felt for a moment like an innocent boy again. from that hour he grew penitent, and he may be forgiven in consequence by god.' "'but didn't the jailer forgive him?' asked mabel. "'no; he was hung. we belonged to no one then, so we caught our withering bodies under our arms, and flew away through the iron gratings of his cell. but, mabel, what are you thinking about?' ended the fairy. "'thinking,' said mabel, 'how much better it was to give away my violets than to keep them. i little dreamed they would do so much good in the world. but, fairy, what is the name of the earthly queen you told me about?' "'mabel,' answered all the little voices; and the fern leaf banners waved, and violet odors filled the air again, while the tiny flutes and trumpets made sweet music at the mention of their queen. "'why, that is my name,' said the little girl. "'and you are our queen,' said the fairies. 'it is a kind and loving heart that gives one power like a fairy wand, and can win all good spirits to serve its owner. this will change selfishness into benevolence, and sin to penitence, and hatred to forgiveness; it will transform--haven't you done it?--a prison into a dewy garden, and put love and penitence into a murderer's heart. whoever uses us to best purposes is our queen; and _this_ summer our queen is mabel.' "mabel reached forward to take her little subjects from the leaf; but lo, it was only a handful of violets. in her surprise, she awoke, with a dim feeling still that she had watched the little procession wind away through her foot tracks in the grass, the fern leaf banners waving over it, while mingled with violet odors came back triumphant music from the tiny flutes and timbrels. low but clear were the fairy voices; and mabel never forgot the words they sang, which ended,- 'all of us, whoe'er we be, may carve us out such royalty.'" juvenile works christmas holidays at chestnut hill. by cousin mary. containing fine engravings from original designs, and printed very neatly. it will be found to be a charming little book for a present for all seasons. little blossom's reward; a christmas book for children by mrs. emily hare. beautifully illustrated from original designs, and a charming presentation book for young people. estelle's stories about dogs; containing six beautiful illustrations; being original portraits from life. by h. trusta little mary; or, talks and tales. this little book is charmingly illustrated, and is a very beautiful book. it is made up of short lessons, and was originally written for the practical use of children from five to ten years of age. peep at "number five;" or, a chapter in the life of a city pastor. the telltale; or, home secrets told by old travellers. the "last leaf from sunny side;" by paul creyton. father brighthopes; or, an old clergyman's vacation. hearts and faces; or, home life unveiled. by francis c. woodworth. editor of "woodworth's youth's cabinet," author of "the willow lane budget," "the strawberry girl," "the miller of our village," "theodore thinker's tales," etc., etc. uncle frank's boys' and girls' library _a beautiful series, comprising six volumes, with eight tinted engravings in each volume. the following are their titles respectively_:- i. the peddler's boy; or, i'll be somebody. ii. the diving bell; or, pearls to be sought for. iii. the poor organ grinder, and other stories. iv. our sue: her motto and its uses. v. mike marble: his crotchets and oddities. vi. the wonderful letter bag of kit curious "woodworth is unquestionably and immeasurably the best writer for children that we know of; for he combines a sturdy common sense and varied information with a most childlike and loveful spirit, that finds its way at once to the child's heart. we regard him as one of the truest benefactors of his race; for he is as wise as he is gentle, and never uses his power over the child-heart to instil into it the poison of false teaching, or to cramp it with unlovely bigotry. the publishers have done their part, as well as the author, to make these volumes attractive. altogether we regard them as one of the pleasantest series of juvenile books extant, both in their literary character and mechanical execution."--_syracuse (n. y.) daily standard._ burgess trade quaddies mark mother west wind's animal friends by thornton w. burgess author of "old mother west wind," and "mother west wind's children" _illustrated by george kerr_ boston little, brown, and company 1920 _copyright, 1912_, by little, brown, and company _all rights reserved_ * * * * * in tender, loving, reverent memory of my mother, who loved little children and was beloved of them, and to whom i owe a debt of affection and of gratitude beyond my power to pay * * * * * [illustration: suddenly he met mr. panther. frontispiece.] contents chapter page i. the merry little breezes save the green meadows 1 ii. the stranger in the green forest 13 iii. how prickly porky got his quills 29 iv. peter rabbit's egg rolling 47 v. how johnny chuck ran away 63 vi. peter rabbit's run for life 77 vii. a joker fooled 93 viii. the fuss in the big pine 109 ix. johnny chuck finds a use for his back door 123 x. billy mink goes dinnerless 135 xi. grandfather frog's journey 149 xii. why blacky the crow wears mourning 161 xiii. striped chipmunk fools peter rabbit 177 xiv. jerry muskrat's new house 195 xv. peter rabbit's big cousin 211 list of illustrations suddenly he met mr. panther _frontispiece_ reddy strutted out in front of him. "who are you?" he demanded page 21 "please, please wait for me, peter rabbit," panted johnny chuck " 69 "come on with us to the big river, fishing," called billy mink " 138 peter was so surprised that he nearly fell backward " 189 "i'm going to build a house," replied jerry muskrat " 200 mother west wind's animal friends i the merry little breezes save the green meadows old mother west wind's family is very big, very big indeed. there are dozens and dozens of merry little breezes, all children of old mother west wind. every morning she comes down from the purple hills and tumbles them out of a great bag on to the green meadows. every night she gathers them into the great bag and, putting it over her shoulder, takes them to their home behind the purple hills. one morning, just as usual, old mother west wind turned the merry little breezes out to play on the green meadows. then she hurried away to fill the sails of the ships and blow them across the great ocean. the merry little breezes hopped and skipped over the green meadows looking for some one to play with. it was then that one of them discovered something--something very dreadful. it was a fire! yes, sir, it was a fire in the meadow grass! some one had dropped a lighted match, and now little red flames were running through the grass in all directions. the merry little breeze hastened to tell all the other little breezes and all rushed over as fast as they could to see for themselves. they saw how the little red flames were turning to smoke and ashes everything they touched, and how black and ugly, with nothing alive there, became that part of the green meadows where the little flames ran. it was dreadful! then one of them noticed that the little red flames were running in the direction of johnny chuck's new house. would the little red flames burn up johnny chuck, as they burned up the grass and the flowers? "hi!" cried the merry little breeze, "we must warn johnny chuck and all the other little meadow people!" so he caught up a capful of smoke and raced off as fast as he could go to johnny chuck's house. then each of the merry little breezes caught up a capful of smoke and started to warn one of the little meadow people or forest folks. so pretty soon jolly, round, red mr. sun, looking down from the blue sky, saw johnny chuck, jimmy skunk, peter rabbit, striped chipmunk, danny meadow mouse, reddy fox, bobby coon, happy jack squirrel, chatterer the red squirrel, jumper the hare and old mr. toad all hurrying as fast as they could to the smiling pool where live billy mink and little joe otter and jerry muskrat and spotty the turtle and grandfather frog. there they would be quite safe from the little red flames. "oh," gasped johnny chuck, puffing very hard, for you know he is round and fat and roly-poly and it was hard work for him to run, "what will become of my nice new house and what will there be left to eat?" the merry little breeze who had brought him the warning in a capful of smoke thought for a minute. then he called all the other little breezes to him. "we must get farmer brown's help or we will have no beautiful green meadows to play on," said the merry little breeze. so together they rushed back to where the little red flames had grown into great, angry, red flames that were licking up everything in their way. the merry little breezes gathered a great cloud of smoke and, lifting all together, they carried it over and dropped it in farmer brown's dooryard. then one of them blew a little of the smoke in at an open window, near which farmer brown was eating breakfast. farmer brown coughed and strangled and sprang from his chair. "phew!" cried farmer brown, "i smell smoke! there must be a fire on the meadows." then he shouted for his boy and for his hired man and the three, with shovels in their hands, started for the green meadows to try to put the fire out. the merry little breezes sighed with relief and followed to the fire. but when they saw how fierce and angry the red flames had become they knew that farmer brown and his boy and his hired man would not be able to put the fire out. choking with smoke, they hurried over to tell the dreadful news to the little meadow people and forest folks gathered at the smiling pool. "chug-a-rum! why don't you help put the fire out?" asked grandfather frog. "we warned farmer brown and his boy and his hired man; what more can we do?" asked one of the merry little breezes. "go find and drive up a rain cloud," replied grandfather frog. "splendid!" cried all the little meadow people and forest folks. "hurry! hurry! oh, do hurry!" so the merry little breezes scattered in all directions to hunt for a rain cloud. "it is a good thing that old mother west wind has such a big family," said grandfather frog, "for one of them is sure to find a wandering rain cloud somewhere." then all the little meadow people and forest folks sat down around the smiling pool to wait. they watched the smoke roll up until it hid the face of jolly, round, red mr. sun. their hearts almost stood still with fear as they saw the fierce, angry, red flames leap into the air and climb tall trees on the edge of the green forest. splash! something struck in the smiling pool right beside grandfather frog's big, green, lily-pad. spat! something hit johnny chuck right on the end of his funny little, black nose. they were drops of water. "hurrah!" cried johnny chuck, whirling about. sure enough, they were drops of water--rain drops. and there, coming just as fast as the merry little breezes could push it, and they were pushing very hard, very hard indeed, was a great, black, rain cloud, spilling down rain as it came. when it was just over the fire, the great, black, rain cloud split wide open, and the water poured down so that the fierce, angry, red flames were drowned in a few minutes. "phew!" said farmer brown, mopping his face with his handkerchief, "that was warm work! that shower came up just in time and it is lucky it did." but you know and i know and all the little meadow people and forest folks know that it wasn't luck at all, but the quick work and hard work of old mother west wind's big family of merry little breezes, which saved the green meadows. and this, too, is one reason why peter rabbit and johnny chuck and bobby coon and all the other little meadow and forest people love the merry little breezes who play every day on the green meadows. ii the stranger in the green forest old mother west wind, hurrying down from the purple hills with her merry little breezes, discovered the newcomer in the green forest on the edge of the green meadows. of course the merry little breezes saw him, too, and as soon as old mother west wind had turned them loose on the green meadows they started out to spread the news. as they hurried along the crooked little path up the hill, they met reddy fox. "oh, reddy fox," cried the merry little breezes, so excited that all talked together, "there's a stranger in the green forest!" reddy fox sat down and grinned at the merry little breezes. the grin of reddy fox is not pleasant. it irritates and exasperates. it made the merry little breezes feel very uncomfortable. "you don't say so," drawled reddy fox. "do you mean to say that you've just discovered him? why, your news is so old that it is stale; it is no news at all. i thought you had something really new to tell me." the merry little breezes were disappointed. their faces fell. they had thought it would be such fun to carry the news through the green forest and over the green meadows, and now the very first one they met knew all about it. "who is he, reddy fox?" asked one of the merry little breezes. reddy fox pretended not to hear. "i must be going," said he, rising and stretching. "i have an engagement with billy mink down at the smiling pool." reddy fox started down the crooked little path while the merry little breezes hurried up the crooked little path to tell the news to jimmy skunk, who was looking for beetles for his breakfast. now reddy fox had not told the truth. he had known nothing whatever of the stranger in the green forest. in fact he had been as surprised as the merry little breezes could have wished, but he would not show it. and he had told another untruth, for he had no intention of going down to the smiling pool. no, indeed! he just waited until the merry little breezes were out of sight, then he slipped into the green forest to look for the stranger seen by the merry little breezes. now reddy fox does nothing openly. instead of walking through the green forest like a gentleman, he sneaked along under the bushes and crept from tree to tree, all the time looking for the stranger of whom the merry little breezes had told him. all around through the green forest sneaked reddy fox, but nothing of the stranger could he see. it didn't occur to him to look anywhere but on the ground. "i don't believe there is a stranger here," said reddy to himself. just then he noticed some scraps of bark around the foot of a tall maple. looking up to see where it came from he saw--what do you think? why, the stranger who had come to the green forest. reddy fox dodged back out of sight, for he wanted to find out all he could about the stranger before the stranger saw him. reddy sat down behind a big stump and rubbed his eyes. he could hardly believe what he saw. there at the top of the tall maple, stripping the branches of their bark and eating it, was the stranger, sure enough. he was big, much bigger than reddy. could he be a relative of happy jack squirrel? he didn't look a bit, not the least little bit like happy jack. and he moved slowly, very slowly, indeed, while happy jack and his cousins move quickly. reddy decided that the stranger could not be related to happy jack. the longer reddy looked the more he was puzzled. also, reddy began to feel just a little bit jealous. you see all the little meadow people and forest folks are afraid of reddy fox, but this stranger was so big that reddy began to feel something very like fear in his own heart. the merry little breezes had told the news to jimmy skunk and then hurried over the green meadows telling every one they met of the stranger in the green forest--billy mink, little joe otter, johnny chuck, peter rabbit, happy jack squirrel, danny meadow mouse, striped chipmunk, old mr. toad, grandfather frog, sammy jay, blacky the crow, and each as soon as he heard the news started for the green forest to welcome the newcomer. even grandfather frog left his beloved big, green lily-pad and started for the green forest. so it was that when finally the stranger decided that he had eaten enough bark for his breakfast, and climbed slowly down the tall maple, he found all the little meadow people and forest folks sitting in a big circle waiting for him. the stranger was anything but handsome, but his size filled them with respect. the nearer he got to the ground the bigger he looked. down he came, and reddy fox, noting how slow and clumsy in his movements was the stranger, decided that there was nothing to fear. if the stranger was slow and clumsy in the tree, he was clumsier still on the ground. his eyes were small and dull. his coat was rough, long and almost black. his legs were short and stout. his tail was rather short and broad. altogether he was anything but handsome. but when the little meadow people and forest folks saw his huge front teeth they regarded him with greater respect than ever, all but reddy fox. reddy strutted out in front of him. "who are you?" he demanded. [illustration: reddy strutted out in front of him. "who are you?" he demanded.] the stranger paid no attention to reddy fox. "what business have you in our green forest?" demanded reddy, showing all his teeth. the stranger just grunted and appeared not to see reddy fox. reddy swelled himself out until every hair stood on end and he looked twice as big as he really is. he strutted back and forth in front of the stranger. "don't you know that i'm afraid of nothing and nobody?" snarled reddy fox. the stranger refused to give him so much as a glance. he just grunted and kept right on about his business. all the little meadow people and forest folks began to giggle and then to laugh. reddy knew that they were laughing at him and he grew very angry, for no one likes to be laughed at, least of all reddy fox. "you're a pig!" taunted reddy. "you're afraid to fight. i bet you're afraid of danny meadow mouse!" still the stranger just grunted and paid no further attention to reddy fox. now, with all his boasting reddy fox had kept at a safe distance from the stranger. happy jack squirrel had noticed this. "if you're so brave, why don't you drive him out, reddy fox?" asked happy jack, skipping behind a tree. "you don't dare to!" reddy turned and glared at happy jack. "i'm not afraid!" he shouted. "i'm not afraid of anything nor anybody!" but though he spoke so bravely it was noticed that he went no nearer the stranger. now it happened that that morning bowser the hound took it into his head to take a walk in the green forest. blacky the crow, sitting on the tip-top of a big pine, was the first to see him coming. from pure love of mischief blacky waited until bowser was close to the circle around the stranger. then he gave the alarm. "here's bowser the hound! run!" screamed blacky the crow. then he laughed so that he had to hold his sides to see the fright down below. reddy fox forgot that he was afraid of nothing and nobody. he was the first one out of sight, running so fast that his feet seemed hardly to touch the ground. peter rabbit turned a back somersault and suddenly remembered that he had important business down on the green meadows. johnny chuck dodged into a convenient hole. billy mink ran into a hollow tree. striped chipmunk hid in an old stump. happy jack squirrel climbed the nearest tree. in a twinkling the stranger was alone, facing bowser the hound. bowser stopped and looked at the stranger in sheer surprise. then the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he growled a deep, ugly growl. still the stranger did not run. bowser didn't know just what to make of it. never before had he had such an experience. could it be that the stranger was not afraid of him? bowser walked around the stranger, growling fiercely. as he walked the stranger turned, so as always to face him. it was perplexing and very provoking. it really seemed as if the stranger had no fear of him. "bow, wow, wow!" cried bowser the hound in his deepest voice, and sprang at the stranger. then something happened, so surprising that blacky the crow lost his balance on the top of the pine where he was watching. the instant that bowser sprang, the stranger rolled himself into a tight round ball and out of the long hair of his coat sprang hundreds of sharp little yellowish white barbed spears. the stranger looked for all the world like a huge black and yellow chestnut burr. bowser the hound was as surprised as blacky the crow. he stopped short and his eyes looked as if they would pop out of his head. he looked so puzzled and so funny that happy jack squirrel laughed aloud. the stranger did not move. bowser backed away and began to circle around again, sniffing and snuffing. once in a while he barked. still the stranger did not move. for all the sign of life he made he might in truth have been a giant chestnut burr. bowser sat down and looked at him. then he walked around to the other side and sat down. "what a queer thing," thought bowser. "what a very queer thing." bowser took a step nearer. then he took another step. nothing happened. finally bowser reached out, and with his nose gingerly touched the prickly ball. slap! the stranger's tail had struck bowser full in the face. bowser yelled with pain and rolled over and over on the ground. sticking in his tender lips were a dozen sharp little spears, and claw and rub at them as he would, bowser could not get them out. every time he touched them he yelped with pain. finally he gave it up and started for home with his tail between his legs like a whipped puppy, and with every step he yelped. when he had disappeared and his yelps had died away in the distance, the stranger unrolled, the sharp little spears disappeared in the long hair of his coat and, just as if nothing at all had happened, the stranger walked slowly over to a tall maple and began to climb it. and this is how prickly porky the porcupine came to the green forest, and won the respect and admiration of all the little meadow people and forest folks, including reddy fox. since that day no one has tried to meddle with prickly porky or his business. iii how prickly porky got his quills the newcomer in the green forest was a source of great interest to the merry little breezes. ever since they had seen him turn himself into a huge prickly ball, like a giant chestnut burr, and with a slap of his tail send bowser the hound yelping home with his lips stuck full of little barbed spears, they had visited the green forest every day to watch prickly porky. he was not very social. indeed, he was not social at all, but attended strictly to his own business, which consisted chiefly of stripping bark from the trees and eating it. never had the merry little breezes seen such an appetite! already that part of the green forest where he had chosen to live had many bare stark trees, killed that prickly porky the porcupine might live. you see a tree cannot live without bark, and prickly porky had stripped them clean to fill his stomach. but if prickly porky was not social he was not unfriendly. he seemed to enjoy having the merry little breezes about, and did not in the least mind having them rumple up the long hair of his coat to feel the sharp little barbed spears underneath. some of these were so loose that they dropped out. peter rabbit's curiosity led him to examine some of these among bits of bark at the foot of a tree. peter wished that he had left them alone. one of the sharp little barbs pierced his tender skin and peter could not get it out. he had to ask johnny chuck to do it for him, and it had hurt dreadfully. after that the little meadow people and forest folks held prickly porky in greater respect than ever and left him severely alone, which was just what he seemed to want. one morning the merry little breezes failed to find prickly porky in the green forest. could he have left as mysteriously as he had come? they hurried down to the smiling pool to tell grandfather frog. bursting through the bulrushes on the edge of the smiling pool, they nearly upset jerry muskrat, who was sitting on an old log intently watching something out in the middle of the smiling pool. it was prickly porky. some of the sharp little barbed spears were standing on end; altogether he was the queerest sight the smiling pool had seen for a long time. he was swimming easily and you may be sure no one tried to bother him. little joe otter and billy mink sat on the big rock and for once they had forgotten to play tricks. when prickly porky headed towards the big rock, little joe otter suddenly remembered that he had business down the laughing brook, and billy mink recalled that mother mink had forbidden him to play at the smiling pool. prickly porky had the smiling pool quite to himself. when he had swum to his heart's content he climbed out, shook himself and slowly ambled up the lone little path to the green forest. the merry little breezes watched him out of sight. then they danced over to the big green lily-pad on which sat grandfather frog. the merry little breezes are great favorites with grandfather frog. as usual they brought him some foolish green flies. grandfather frog's eyes twinkled as he snapped up the last foolish green fly. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog, "and now i suppose you want a story." and he folded his hands across his white and yellow waistcoat. "if you please!" shouted the merry little breezes. "if you please, do tell us how it is that prickly porky has spears on his back!" grandfather settled himself comfortably. "chug-a-rum!" said he. "once upon a time when the world was young, mr. porcupine, the grandfather a thousand times removed of prickly porky, whom you all know, lived in the green forest where old king bear ruled. mr. porcupine was a slow clumsy fellow, just as his grandson a thousand times removed is to-day. he was so slow moving, and when he tried to hurry tumbled over himself so much, that he had hard work to get enough to eat. always some one reached the berry patch before he did. the beetles and the bugs were so spry that seldom could he catch them. hunger was in his stomach, and little else most of the time. mr. porcupine grew thin and thinner and still more thin. his long, shaggy coat looked twice too big for him. because he was so hungry he could sleep little, and night as well as day he roamed the forest, thinking of nothing but his empty stomach, and looking for something to put in it. so he learned to see by night as well as by day. "one day he could not find a single berry and not a beetle or a bug could he catch. he was so hungry that he sat down with his back against a big black birch, and clasping both hands over his lean stomach, he wept. there sister south wind found him, and her heart was moved to pity, for she knew that his wits were as slow as his body. softly she stole up behind him. "'try the bark of the black birch; it's sweet and good,' whispered sister south wind. then she hurried on her way. "mr. porcupine still sat with his hands clasped over his lean stomach, for it took a long time for his slow wit to understand what sister south wind meant. 'bark, bark, try bark,' said mr. porcupine over and over to himself. he rolled his dull little eyes up at the big black birch. 'i believe i will try it,' said mr. porcupine at last. "slowly he turned and began to gnaw the bark of the big black birch. it was tough, but it tasted good. clumsily he began to climb, tearing off a mouthful of bark here and there as he climbed. the higher he got the tenderer and sweeter the bark became. finally he reached the top of the tree, and there on the small branches the bark was so tender and so sweet that he ate and ate and ate until for the first time in many days mr. porcupine had a full stomach. that night he curled up in a hollow log and slept all the night through, dreaming of great forests of black birch and all he wanted to eat. "the next day he hunted for and found another black birch, and climbing to the top, he ate and ate until his stomach was full. from that time on mr. porcupine ceased to hunt for berries or beetles or bugs. he grew stout and stouter. he filled his shaggy coat until it was so tight it threatened to burst. "now while mr. porcupine was so thin and lean he had no enemies, but when he grew stout and then fat, mr. panther and mr. fisher and mr. bobcat and even old king bear began to cast longing eyes upon him, for times were hard and they were hungry. mr. porcupine began to grow afraid. by night he hid in hollow trees and by day he went abroad to eat only when he was sure that no one bigger than himself was about. and because he no longer dared to move about as before, he no longer depended upon the black birch alone, but learned to eat and to like all kinds of bark. "one day he had made his breakfast on the bark of a honey-locust. when he came down the tree he brought with him a strip of bark, and attached to it were some of the long thorns with which the honey-locust seeks to protect itself. when he reached the ground whom should he find waiting for him but mr. panther. mr. panther was very lean and very hungry, for hunting had been poor and the times were hard. "'good morning, mr. porcupine,' said mr. panther, with a wicked grin. 'how fat you are!' "'good morning, mr. panther,' said mr. porcupine politely, but his long hair stood on end with fright, as he looked into mr. panther's cruel yellow eyes. "'i say, how fat you are,' said mr. panther, licking his chops and showing all his long teeth. 'what do you find to eat these hard times?' "'bark, mr. panther, just bark,' said mr. porcupine, while his teeth chattered with fear. 'it really is very nice and sweet. won't you try a piece, mr. panther?' mr. porcupine held out the strip of locust bark which he had brought down the tree for his lunch. "now mr. panther had never tried bark, but he thought to himself that if it made mr. porcupine so fat it must be good. he would try the piece of bark first and eat mr. porcupine afterward. so he reached out and snapped up the strip of bark. "now the locust thorns were long and they were sharp. they pierced mr. panther's tender lips and his tongue. they stuck in the roof of his mouth. mr. panther spat and yelled with pain and rage and clawed frantically at his mouth. he rolled over and over trying to get rid of the thorns. mr. porcupine didn't stay to watch him. for once in his life he hurried. by the time mr. panther was rid of the last thorn, mr. porcupine was nowhere to be seen. he was safely hidden inside a hollow log. "mr. porcupine didn't sleep that night. he just lay and thought and thought and thought. the next morning, very early, before any one else was astir, he started out to call on old mother nature. "'good morning, mr. porcupine, what brings you out so early?' asked old mother nature. "mr. porcupine bowed very low. 'if you please, mother nature, i want you to help me,' said he. "then he told her all about his meeting with mr. panther and how helpless he was when he met his enemies, and he begged her to give him stout claws and a big mouth full of long teeth that he might protect himself. "old mother nature thought a few minutes. 'mr. porcupine,' said she, 'you have always minded your own business. you do not know how to fight. if i should give you a big mouth full of long teeth you would not know how to use them. you move too slowly. instead, i will give you a thousand little spurs. they shall be hidden in the long hair of your coat and only when you are in danger shall you use them. go back to the green forest, and the next time you meet mr. panther or mr. fisher or mr. bobcat or old king bear roll yourself into a ball and the thousand little spears will protect you. now go!' "mr. porcupine thanked old mother nature and started back for the green forest. once he stopped to smooth down his long, rough coat. sure enough, there, under the long hair, he felt a thousand little spears. he went along happily until suddenly he met mr. panther. yes, sir, he met mr. panther. "mr. panther was feeling very ugly, for his mouth was sore. he grinned wickedly when he saw mr. porcupine and stepped right out in front of him, all the time licking his lips. mr. porcupine trembled all over, but he remembered what old mother nature had told him. in a flash he had rolled up into a tight ball. sure enough, the thousand little spears sprang out of his long coat, and he looked like a huge chestnut burr. "mr. panther was so surprised he didn't know just what to do. he reached out a paw and touched mr. porcupine. mr. porcupine was nervous. he switched his tail around and it struck mr. panther's paw. mr. panther yelled, for there were spears on mr. porcupine's tail and they were worse than the locust thorns. he backed away hurriedly and limped off up the lone little path, growling horribly. mr. porcupine waited until mr. panther was out of sight, then he unrolled, and slowly and happily he walked back to his home in the green forest. "and since that long-ago day when the world was young, the porcupines have feared nothing and have attended strictly to their own business. and that is how they happen to have a thousand little barbed spears, which are called quills," concluded grandfather frog. the merry little breezes drew a long breath. "thank you, grandfather frog, thank you ever so much!" they cried all together. "we are going back now to tell prickly porky that we know all about his little spears and how he happens to have them." but first they blew a dozen fat, foolish, green flies over to grandfather frog. iv peter rabbit's egg rolling it was spring. drummer the woodpecker was beating the long roll on the hollow limb of the old hickory, that all the world might know. old mother west wind, hurrying down from the purple hills across the green meadows, stopped long enough to kiss the smiling little bluets that crowded along the lone little path. all up and down the laughing brook were shy violets turning joyful faces up to jolly, round, red mr. sun. johnny chuck was sitting on his doorstep, stretching one short leg and then another, to get the kinks out, after his long, long winter sleep. very beautiful, very beautiful indeed, were the green meadows, and very happy were all the little meadow people--all but peter rabbit, who sat at the top of the crooked little path that winds down the hill. no, sir, peter rabbit, happy-go-lucky peter, who usually carries the lightest heart on the green meadows, was not happy. indeed, he was very unhappy. as he sat there at the top of the crooked little path and looked down on the green meadows, he saw nothing beautiful at all because, why, because his big soft eyes were full of tears. splash! a big tear fell at his feet in the crooked little path. splash! that was another tear. splash! splash! "my gracious! my gracious! what _is_ the matter, peter rabbit?" asked a gruff voice close to one of peter's long ears. peter jumped. then he winked the tears back and looked around. there sat old mr. toad. he looked very solemn, very solemn indeed. he was wearing a shabby old suit, the very one he had slept in all winter. peter forgot his troubles long enough to wonder if old mr. toad would swallow his old clothes when he got a new suit. "what's the matter, peter rabbit, what's the matter?" repeated old mr. toad. peter looked a little foolish. he hesitated, coughed, looked this way and looked that way, hitched his trousers up, and then, why then he found his tongue and told old mr. toad all his troubles. "you see," said peter rabbit, "it's almost easter and i haven't found a single egg." "an egg!" exclaimed old mr. toad. "bless my stars! what do you want of an egg, peter rabbit? you don't eat eggs." "i don't want just one egg, oh, no, no indeed! i want a lot of eggs," said peter. "you see, mr. toad, i was going to have an easter egg rolling, and here it is almost easter and not an egg to be found!" peter's eyes filled with tears again. old mr. toad rolled one eye up at jolly, round, red mr. sun and winked. "have you seen mrs. grouse and mrs. pheasant?" asked old mr. toad. "yes," said peter rabbit, "and they won't have any eggs until after easter." "have you been to see mrs. quack?" asked old mr. toad. "yes," said peter rabbit, "and she says she can't spare a single one." old mr. toad looked very thoughtful. he scratched the tip of his nose with his left hind foot. then he winked once more at jolly, round, red mr. sun. "have you been to see jimmy skunk?" he inquired. peter rabbit's big eyes opened very wide. "jimmy skunk!" he exclaimed. "jimmy skunk! what does jimmy skunk have to do with eggs?" old mr. toad chuckled deep down in his throat. he chuckled and chuckled until he shook all over. "jimmy skunk knows more about eggs than all the other little meadow people put together," said old mr. toad. "you take my advice, peter rabbit, and ask jimmy skunk to help you get the eggs for your easter egg rolling." then old mr. toad picked up his cane and started down the crooked little path to the green meadows. there he found the merry little breezes stealing kisses from the bashful little wind flowers. old mr. toad puffed out his throat and pretended that he disapproved, disapproved very much indeed, but at the same time he rolled one eye up at jolly, round, red mr. sun and winked. "haven't you anything better to do than make bashful little flowers hang their heads?" asked old mr. toad gruffly. the merry little breezes stopped their dancing and gathered about old mr. toad. "what's the matter with you this morning, mr. toad?" asked one of them. "do you want us to go find a breakfast for you?" "no," replied old mr. toad sourly. "i am quite able to get breakfast for myself. but peter rabbit is up on the hill crying because he cannot find any eggs." "crying because he cannot find any eggs! now what does peter rabbit want of eggs?" cried the merry little breezes all together. "supposing you go ask him," replied old mr. toad tartly, once more picking up his cane and starting for the smiling pool to call on his cousin, grandfather frog. the merry little breezes stared after him for a few minutes, then they started in a mad race up the crooked little path to find peter rabbit. he wasn't at the top of the crooked little path. they looked everywhere, but not so much as the tip of one of his long ears could they see. finally they met him just coming away from jimmy skunk's house. peter was hopping, skipping, jumping up in the air and kicking his long heels as only peter can. there was no trace of tears in his big, soft eyes. plainly peter rabbit was in good spirits, in the very best of spirits. when he saw the merry little breezes he jumped twice as high as he had jumped before, then sat up very straight. "hello!" said peter rabbit. "hello yourself," replied the merry little breezes. "tell us what under the sun you want of eggs, peter rabbit, and we'll try to find some for you." peter's eyes sparkled. "i'm going to have an easter egg rolling," said he, "but you needn't look for any eggs, for i am going to have all i want; jimmy skunk has promised to get them for me." "what is an easter egg rolling?" asked the merry little breezes. peter looked very mysterious. "wait and see," he replied. then a sudden thought popped into his head. "will you do something for me?" he asked. of course the merry little breezes were delighted to do anything they could for peter rabbit, and told him so. so in a few minutes peter had them scattering in every direction with invitations to all the little people of the green meadows and all the little folks of the green forest to attend his egg rolling on easter morning. very, very early on easter morning old mother west wind hurried down from the purple hills and swept all the rain clouds out of the sky. jolly, round, red mr. sun climbed up in the sky, smiling his broadest. all the little song birds sang their sweetest, and some who really cannot sing at all tried to just because they were so happy. across the beautiful green meadows came all the little meadow people and forest folks to the smooth, grassy bank where the big hickory grows. peter rabbit was there waiting for them. he had brushed his clothes until you would hardly have known him. he felt very much excited and very important and very, very happy, for this was to be the very first egg rolling the green meadows had ever known, and it was all his very own. hidden behind the old hickory, tucked under pieces of bark, scattered among the bluets and wind flowers were big eggs, little eggs and middle-sized eggs, for jimmy skunk had been true to his promise. where they came from jimmy wouldn't tell. perhaps if old gray goose and mrs. quack could have been there, they would have understood why it took so long to fill their nests. perhaps if farmer brown's boy had happened along, he would have guessed why he had to hunt so long in the barn and under the henhouse to get enough eggs for breakfast. but jimmy skunk held his tongue and just smiled to see how happy peter rabbit was. first came peter's cousin, jumper the hare. then up from the smiling pool came jerry muskrat, little joe otter, billy mink, grandfather frog and spotty the turtle. johnny chuck, danny meadow mouse, and old mr. toad came together. of course reddy fox was on hand promptly. striped chipmunk came dancing out from the home no one has been able to find. out from the green forest trotted bobby coon, happy jack squirrel and chatterer the red squirrel. behind them shuffled prickly porky. last of all came jimmy skunk, who never hurries, and jimmy wore his very best suit of black and white. up in the old hickory sat blacky the crow, sammy jay and drummer the woodpecker, to watch the fun. when all had arrived, peter rabbit started them to hunting for the eggs. everybody got in the way of everybody else. even old mr. toad caught the excitement and hopped this way and hopped that way hunting for eggs. danny meadow mouse found a goose egg bigger than himself and had to get help to bring it in. bobby coon stubbed his toes and fell down with an egg under each arm. such a looking sight as he was! he had to go down to the smiling pool to wash. by and by, when all the eggs had been found, peter rabbit sent a big goose egg rolling down the grassy bank and then raced after it to bring it back and roll it down again. in a few minutes the green grassy bank was covered with eggs--big eggs, little eggs, all kinds of eggs. some were nearly round and rolled swiftly to the bottom. some were sharp pointed at one end and rolled crookedly and sometimes turned end over end. a big egg knocked johnny chuck's legs from under him and, because johnny chuck is round and roly-poly, he just rolled over and over after the egg clear to the bottom of the green grassy bank. and it was such fun that he scrambled up and did it all over again. then bobby coon tried it. pretty soon every one was trying it, even reddy fox, who seldom forgets his dignity. for once blacky the crow and sammy jay almost wished that they hadn't got wings, so that they might join in the fun. but the greatest fun of all was when prickly porky decided that he, too, would join in the rolling. he tucked his head down in his vest and made himself into a perfectly round ball. now when he did this, all his hidden spears stood out straight, until he looked like a great, giant, chestnut burr, and every one hurried to get out of his way. over and over, faster and faster, he rolled down the green, grassy bank until he landed--where do you think? why right in the midst of a lot of eggs that had been left when the other little people had scampered out of his way. now, having his head tucked into his vest, prickly porky couldn't see where he was going, so when he reached the bottom and hopped to his feet he didn't know what to make of the shout that went up from all the little meadow people. so foolish prickly porky lost his temper because he was being laughed at, and started off up the lone little path to his home in the green forest. and what do you think? why, stuck fast in a row on the spears on his back, prickly porky carried off six of peter rabbit's easter eggs, and didn't know it. v how johnny chuck ran away johnny chuck stood on the doorstep of his house and watched old mrs. chuck start down the lone little path across the green meadows towards farmer brown's garden. she had her market basket on her arm, and johnny knew that when she returned it would be full of the things he liked best. but not even the thought of these could chase away the frown that darkened johnny chuck's face. he had never been to farmer brown's garden and he had begged very hard to go that morning with old mrs. chuck. but she had said "no. it isn't safe for such a little chap as you." and when mrs. chuck said "no," johnny knew that she meant it, and that it was of no use at all to beg. so he stood with his hands in his pockets and scowled and scowled as he thought of old mrs. chuck's very last words: "now, johnny, don't you dare put a foot outside of the yard until i get back." pretty soon along came peter rabbit. peter was trying to jump over his own shadow. when he saw johnny chuck he stopped abruptly. then he looked up at the blue sky and winked at jolly, round, red mr. sun. "looks mighty showery 'round here," he remarked to no one in particular. johnny chuck smiled in spite of himself. then he told peter rabbit how he had got to stay at home and mind the house and couldn't put his foot outside the yard. now peter hasn't had the best bringing up in the world, for his mother has such a big family that she is kept busy just getting them something to eat. so peter has been allowed to bring himself up and do just about as he pleases. "how long will your mother be gone?" asked peter. "most all the morning," said johnny chuck mournfully. peter hopped a couple of steps nearer. "say, johnny," he whispered, "how is she going to know whether you stay in the yard all the time or not, so long as you are here when she gets home? i know where there's the dandiest sweet-clover patch. we can go over there and back easy before old mrs. chuck gets home, and she won't know anything about it. come on!" johnny chuck's mouth watered at the thought of the sweet-clover, but still he hesitated, for johnny chuck had been taught to mind. "'fraid cat! 'fraid cat! tied to your mother's apron strings!" jeered peter rabbit. "i ain't either!" cried johnny chuck. and then, just to prove it, he thrust his hands into his pockets and swaggered out into the lone little path. "where's your old clover patch?" asked he. "i'll show you," said peter rabbit, and off he started, lipperty-lipperty-lip, so fast that johnny chuck lost his breath trying to make his short legs keep up. and all the time johnny's conscience was pricking him. peter rabbit left the lone little path across the green meadows for some secret little paths of his own. his long legs took him over the ground very fast. johnny chuck, running behind him, grew tired and hot, for johnny's legs are short and he is fat and roly-poly. at times all he could see was the white patch on the seat of peter rabbit's pants. he began to wish that he had minded old mrs. chuck and stayed at home. it was too late to go back now, for he didn't know the way. "wait up, peter rabbit!" he called. peter rabbit just flirted his tail and ran faster. "please, please wait for me, peter rabbit," panted johnny chuck, and began to cry. yes, sir, he began to cry. you see he was so hot and tired, and then he was so afraid that he would lose sight of peter rabbit. if he did he would surely be lost, and then what should he do? the very thought made him run just a little faster. [illustration: "please, please wait for me, peter rabbit," panted johnny chuck.] now peter rabbit is really one of the best-hearted little fellows in the world, just happy-go-lucky and careless. so when finally he looked back and saw johnny chuck way, way behind, with the tears running down his cheeks, and how hot and tired he looked, peter sat down and waited. pretty soon johnny chuck came up, puffing and blowing, and threw himself flat on the ground. "please, peter rabbit, is it very much farther to the sweet-clover patch?" he panted, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. "no," replied peter rabbit, "just a little way more. we'll rest here a few minutes and then i won't run so fast." so peter rabbit and johnny chuck lay down in the grass to rest while johnny chuck recovered his breath. every minute or two peter would sit up very straight, prick up his long ears and look this way and look that way as if he expected to see something unusual. it made johnny chuck nervous. "what do you keep doing that for, peter rabbit?" he asked. "oh, nothin'," replied peter rabbit. but he kept right on doing it just the same. then suddenly, after one of these looks abroad, he crouched down very flat and whispered in johnny chuck's ear in great excitement. "old whitetail is down here and he's headed this way. we'd better be moving," he said. johnny chuck felt a chill of fear. "who is old whitetail?" he asked, as he prepared to follow peter rabbit. "don't you know?" asked peter in surprise. "say, you are green! why, he's mr. marsh hawk, and if he once gets the chance he'll gobble you up, skin, bones and all. there's an old stone wall just a little way from here, and the sooner we get there the better!" peter rabbit led the way, and if he had run fast before it was nothing to the way he ran now. a great fear made johnny chuck forget that he was tired, and he ran as he had never run before in all his short life. just as he dived head-first into a hole between two big stones, a shadow swept over the grass and something sharp tore a gap in the seat of his pants and made him squeal with fright and pain. but he wriggled in beside peter rabbit and was safe, while mr. marsh hawk flew off with a scream of rage and disappointment. johnny chuck had never been so frightened in all his short life. he made himself as small as possible and crept as far as he could underneath a friendly stone in the old wall. his pants were torn and his leg smarted dreadfully where one of mr. marsh hawk's cruel, sharp claws had scratched him. how he did wish that he had minded old mrs. chuck and stayed in his own yard, as she had told him to. peter rabbit looked at the tear in johnny chuck's pants. "pooh!" said peter rabbit, "don't mind a little thing like that." "but i'm afraid to go home with my pants torn," said johnny chuck. "don't go home," replied peter rabbit. "i don't unless i feel like it. you stay away a long time and then your mother will be so glad to see you that she won't ever think of the pants." johnny chuck looked doubtful, but before he could say anything peter rabbit stuck his head out to see if the way was clear. it was, and peter's long legs followed his head. "come on, johnny chuck," he shouted. "i'm going over to the sweet-clover patch." but johnny chuck was afraid. he was almost sure that old whitetail was waiting just outside to gobble him up. it was a long time before he would put so much as the tip of his wee black nose out. but without peter rabbit it grew lonesomer and lonesomer in under the old stone wall. besides, he was afraid that he would lose peter rabbit, and then he would be lost indeed, for he didn't know the way home. finally johnny chuck ventured to peep out. there was jolly, round, red mr. sun smiling down just as if he was used to seeing little runaway chucks every day. johnny looked and looked for peter rabbit, but it was a long time before he saw him, and when he did all he saw were peter rabbit's funny long ears above the tops of the waving grass, for peter rabbit was hidden in the sweet-clover patch, eating away for dear life. it was only a little distance, but johnny chuck had had such a fright that he tried three times before he grew brave enough to scurry through the tall grass and join peter rabbit. my, how good that sweet-clover did taste! johnny chuck forgot all about old whitetail. he forgot all about his torn pants. he forgot that he had run away and didn't know the way home. he just ate and ate and ate until his stomach was so full he couldn't stuff another piece of sweet-clover into it. suddenly peter rabbit grabbed him by a sleeve and pulled him down flat. "sh-h-h," said peter rabbit, "don't move." johnny chuck's heart almost stopped beating. what new danger could there be now? in a minute he heard a queer noise. peeping between the stems of sweet-clover he saw--what do you think? why, old mrs. chuck cutting sweet-clover to put in the basket of vegetables she was taking home from farmer brown's garden. johnny chuck gave a great sigh of relief, but he kept very still for he did not want her to find him there after she had told him not to put foot outside his own dooryard. "you wait here," whispered peter rabbit, and crept off through the clover. pretty soon johnny chuck saw peter rabbit steal up behind old mrs. chuck and pull four big lettuce leaves out of her basket. vi peter rabbit's run for life "i wish i hadn't run away," said johnny chuck dolefully, as he and peter rabbit peeped out from the sweet-clover patch and watched old mrs. chuck start for home with her market basket on her arm. "you ought to think yourself lucky that your mother didn't find you here in the sweet-clover patch. if it hadn't been for me she would have," said peter rabbit. johnny chuck's face grew longer and longer. his pants were torn, his leg was stiff and sore where old mr. marsh hawk had scratched him that morning, but worse still his conscience pricked him. yes, sir, johnny chuck's conscience was pricking him hard, very hard indeed, because he had run away from home with peter rabbit after old mrs. chuck had told him not to leave the yard while she was away. now he didn't know the way home. "peter rabbit, i want to go home," said johnny chuck suddenly. "isn't there a short cut so that i can get home before my mother does?" "no, there isn't," said peter rabbit. "and if there was what good would it do you? old mrs. chuck would see that tear in your pants and then you'd catch it!" "i don't care. please won't you show me the way home, peter rabbit?" begged johnny chuck. peter rabbit yawned lazily as he replied: "what's the use of going now? you'll catch it anyway, so you might as well stay and have all fun you can. say, i know a dandy old house up on the hill. jimmy skunk used to live there, but no one lives in it now. let's go up and see it. it's a dandy place." now right down in his heart johnny chuck knew that he ought to go home, but he couldn't go unless peter rabbit would show him the way, and then he did want to see that old house. perhaps peter rabbit was right (in his heart he knew that he wasn't) and he had better have all the fun he could. so johnny chuck followed peter rabbit up the hill to the old house of jimmy skunk. cobwebs covered the doorway. johnny chuck was going to brush them away, but peter rabbit stopped him. "let's see if there isn't a back door," said he. "then we can use that, and if bowser the hound or farmer brown's boy comes along and finds this door they'll think no one ever lives here any more and you'll be safer than if you were right in your own home." so they hunted and hunted, and by and by johnny chuck found the back door way off at one side and cunningly hidden under a tangle of grass. inside was a long dark hall and at the end of that a nice big room. it was very dirty, and johnny chuck, who is very neat, at once began to clean house and soon had it spick and span. suddenly they heard a voice outside the front door. "doesn't look as if anybody lives here, but seems as if i smell young rabbit and--yes, i'm sure i smell young chuck, too. guess i'll have a look inside." "it's old granny fox," whispered peter rabbit, trembling with fright. then peter rabbit did a very brave thing. he remembered that johnny chuck could not run very fast and that if it hadn't been for him, johnny chuck would be safe at home. "you stay right here," whispered peter rabbit. then he slipped out the back door. half-way down the hill he stopped and shouted: "old granny fox is slower than an ox!" then he started for the old brier patch as fast as his long legs could take him, and after him ran granny fox. peter rabbit was running for his life. there was no doubt about it. right behind him, grinding her long white teeth, her eyes snapping, ran old granny fox. peter rabbit did not like to think what would happen to him if she should catch him. peter rabbit was used to running for his life. he had to do it at least once every day. but usually he was near a safe hiding place and he rather enjoyed the excitement. this time, however, the only place of safety he could think of was the friendly old brier patch, and that was a long way off. back at the old house on the hill, where granny fox had discovered peter rabbit, was little johnny chuck, trembling with fright. he crept to the back door of the old house to watch. he saw granny fox getting nearer and nearer to peter rabbit. "oh, dear! oh, dear! she'll catch peter rabbit! she'll catch peter rabbit!" wailed johnny chuck, wringing his hands in despair. it certainly looked as if granny fox would. she was right at peter rabbit's heels. poor, happy-go-lucky, little peter rabbit! two more jumps and granny fox would have him! johnny chuck shut his eyes tight, for he didn't want to see. but peter rabbit had no intention of being caught so easily. while he had seemed to be running his very hardest, really he was not. and all the time he was watching granny fox, for peter rabbit's big eyes are so placed that he can see behind him without turning his head. so he knew when granny fox was near enough to catch him in one more jump. then peter rabbit dodged. yes, sir, peter rabbit dodged like a flash, and away he went in another direction lipperty-lipperty-lip, as fast as he could go. old granny fox had been so sure that in another minute she would have tender young rabbit for her dinner that she had begun to smile and her mouth actually watered. she did not see where she was going. all she saw was the white patch on the seat of peter rabbit's trousers bobbing up and down right in front of her nose. when peter rabbit dodged, something surprising happened. johnny chuck, who had opened his eyes to see if all was over, jumped up and shouted for joy, and did a funny little dance in the doorway of the old house on the hill. peter had dodged right in front of a wire fence, a fence with ugly, sharp barbs, and right smack into it ran granny fox! it scratched her face and tore her bright red cloak. it threw her back flat on the ground, with all the wind knocked out of her body. when finally she had gotten her breath and scrambled to her feet, peter rabbit was almost over to the friendly old brier patch. he stopped and sat up very straight. then he put his hands on his hips and shouted: "run, granny, run! here comes a man who's got a gun!" granny fox started nervously and looked this way and looked that way. there was no one in sight. then she shook a fist at peter rabbit and started to limp off home. johnny chuck gave a great sigh of relief. "my," said he, "i wish i was as smart as peter rabbit!" "you will be if you live long enough," said a voice right behind him. it was old mr. toad. mr. toad and johnny chuck sat in the doorway of the old house on the hill and watched old granny fox limp off home. "i wonder what it would seem like not to be afraid of anything in the whole world," said johnny chuck. "people who mind their own business and don't get into mischief don't need to be afraid of anything," said mr. toad. johnny chuck remembered how safe he had always felt at home with old mrs. chuck and how many times and how badly he had been frightened since he ran away that morning. "i guess perhaps you are right, mr. toad," said johnny chuck doubtfully. "of course i'm right," replied mr. toad. "of course i'm right. look at me; i attend strictly to my own affairs and no one ever bothers me." "that's because you are so homely that no one wants you for a dinner when he can find anything else," said peter rabbit, who had come up from the friendly old brier patch. "better be homely than to need eyes in the back of my head to keep my skin whole," retorted mr. toad. "now i don't know what it is to be afraid." "not of old granny fox?" asked johnny chuck. "no," said mr. toad. "nor bowser the hound?" "no," said mr. toad. "he's a friend of mine." then mr. toad swelled himself up very big. "i'm not afraid of anything under the sun," boasted mr. toad. peter rabbit looked at johnny chuck and slowly winked one eye. "i guess i'll go up the hill and have a look around," said peter rabbit, hitching up his trousers. so peter rabbit went off up the hill, while mr. toad smoothed down his dingy white waistcoat and told johnny chuck what a foolish thing fear is. by and by there was a queer rustling in the grass back of them. mr. toad hopped around awkwardly. "what was that?" he whispered. "just the wind in the grass, i guess," said johnny chuck. for a while all was still and mr. toad settled himself comfortably and began to talk once more. "no, sir," said mr. toad, "i'm not afraid of anything." just then there was another rustle in the grass, a little nearer than before. mr. toad certainly was nervous. he stretched up on the tips of his toes and looked in the direction of the sound. then mr. toad turned pale. yes, sir, mr. toad actually turned pale! his big, bulging eyes looked as if they would pop out of his head. "i--i must be going," said mr. toad hastily. "i quite forgot an important engagement down on the green meadows. if mr. blacksnake should happen to call, don't mention that you have seen me, will you, johnny chuck?" johnny chuck looked over in the grass. something long and slim and black was wriggling through it. when he turned about again, mr. toad was half-way down the hill, going with such big hops that three times he fell flat on his face, and when he picked himself up he didn't even stop to brush off his clothes. "i wonder what it seems like not to be afraid of anything in the world?" said a voice right behind johnny chuck. there stood peter rabbit laughing so that he had to hold his sides, and in one hand was the end of an old leather strap which he had fooled mr. toad into thinking was mr. blacksnake. vii a joker fooled peter rabbit and johnny chuck sat in the doorway of jimmy skunk's deserted old house on the hill and looked down across the green meadows. every few minutes peter rabbit would chuckle as he thought of how he had fooled mr. toad into thinking that an old leather strap was mr. blacksnake. "is mr. blacksnake so very dangerous?" asked johnny chuck, who had seen very little of the world. "not for you or me," replied peter rabbit, "because we've grown too big for him to swallow. but he would like nothing better than to catch mr. toad for his dinner. but if you ever meet mr. blacksnake, be polite to him. he is very quick tempered, is mr. blacksnake, but if you don't bother him he'll not bother you. my goodness, i wonder what's going on down there in the alders!" johnny chuck looked over to the alder thicket. he saw sammy jay, blacky the crow and mrs. redwing sitting in the alders. they were calling back and forth, apparently very much excited. peter rabbit looked this way and that way to see if the coast was clear. "come on, johnny chuck, let's go down and see what the trouble is," said he, for you know peter rabbit has a great deal of curiosity. so down to the alder thicket skipped peter rabbit and johnny chuck as fast as they could go. half-way there they were joined by danny meadow mouse, for he too had heard the fuss and wanted to know what it all meant. "what's the matter?" asked peter rabbit of sammy jay, but sammy was too excited to answer and simply pointed down into the middle of the alder thicket. so the three of them, one behind the other, very softly crept in among the alders. a great commotion was going on among the dead leaves. danny meadow mouse gave one look, then he turned as pale as did mr. toad when peter rabbit fooled him with the old leather strap. "this is no place for me!" exclaimed danny meadow mouse, and started for home as fast as he could run. partly under an old log lay mr. blacksnake. there seemed to be something the matter with him. he looked sick, and threshed and struggled till he made the leaves fly. sammy jay and blacky the crow and mrs. redwing called all sorts of insulting things to him, but he paid no attention to them. once mrs. redwing darted down and pecked him sharply. but mr. blacksnake seemed quite helpless. "what's the matter with him?" asked johnny chuck in a whisper. "nothing. wait and you'll see. sammy jay and mrs. redwing better watch out or they'll be sorry," replied peter rabbit. just then mr. blacksnake wedged his head in under the old log and began to push and wriggle harder than ever. then johnny chuck gasped. mr. blacksnake was crawling out of his clothes! yes, sir, his old suit was coming off wrong side out, just like a glove, and underneath he wore a splendid new suit of shiny black! "it's time for us to be moving," whispered peter rabbit. "after mr. blacksnake has changed his clothes he is pretty short tempered. just hear him hiss at mrs. redwing and sammy jay!" they tiptoed out of the alder thicket and started back for the old house on the hill. peter rabbit suddenly giggled out loud. "to-morrow," said peter rabbit "we'll come back and get mr. blacksnake's old suit and have some fun with danny meadow mouse." the next morning danny meadow mouse sat on his doorstep nodding. he was dreaming that his tail was long like the tails of all his cousins. one of old mother west wind's merry little breezes stole up and whispered in his ear. danny meadow mouse was awake, wide awake in an instant. "so peter rabbit is going to play a joke on me and scare me into fits!" said danny meadow mouse. "yes," said the merry little breeze, "for i overheard him telling johnny chuck all about it." danny meadow mouse began to laugh softly to himself. "will you do something for me?" he asked the merry little breeze. "sure," replied the merry little breeze. "then go find cresty the fly-catcher and tell him that i want to see him," said danny meadow mouse. the merry little breeze hurried away, and pretty soon back he came with cresty the fly-catcher. now all this time peter rabbit had been very busy planning his joke on danny meadow mouse. he and johnny chuck had gone down to the alder thicket, where they had seen mr. blacksnake change his clothes, and they had found his old suit just as he had left it. "we'll take this up and stretch it out behind a big tussock of grass near the home of danny meadow mouse," chuckled peter rabbit. "then i'll invite danny meadow mouse to take a walk, and when we come by the tussock of grass he will think he sees mr. blacksnake himself all ready to swallow him. then we'll see some fun." so they carried mr. blacksnake's old suit of clothes and hid it behind the big tussock of grass, and arranged it to look as much like mr. blacksnake as they could. then johnny chuck went back to the old house on the hill to watch the fun, while peter rabbit went to call on danny meadow mouse. "good morning, peter rabbit," said danny meadow mouse politely. "good morning, danny meadow mouse," replied peter rabbit. "don't you want to take a walk with me this fine morning?" "i'll be delighted to go," said danny meadow mouse, reaching for his hat. so they started out to walk and presently they came to the big tussock of grass. peter rabbit stopped. "excuse me, while i tie up my shoe. you go ahead and i'll join you in a minute," said peter rabbit. so danny meadow mouse went ahead. as soon as his back was turned peter rabbit clapped both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing, for you see he expected to see danny meadow mouse come flying back in great fright the minute he turned the big tussock and saw mr. blacksnake's old suit. peter rabbit waited and waited, but no danny meadow mouse. what did it mean? peter stopped laughing and peeped around the big tussock. there sat danny meadow mouse with both hands clapped over his mouth, and laughing till the tears rolled down his cheeks, and mr. blacksnake's old suit was nowhere to be seen. "he laughs best who laughs last," said danny meadow mouse to himself, late that afternoon, as he sat on his doorstep and chuckled softly. when he had first heard from a merry little breeze that peter rabbit and johnny chuck were planning to play a joke on him and scare him into fits with a suit of mr. blacksnake's old clothes, he had tried very hard to think of some way to turn the joke on the jokers. then he had remembered cresty the fly-catcher and had sent for him. now cresty the fly-catcher is a handsome fellow. in fact he is quite the gentleman, and does not look at all like one who would be at all interested in any one's old clothes. but he is. he is never satisfied until he has lined the hollow in the old apple-tree, which is his home, with the old clothes of mr. snake. so when danny meadow mouse sent for him and whispered in his ear cresty the fly-catcher smiled broadly and winked knowingly. "i certainly will be there, danny meadow mouse, i certainly will be there," said he. and he was there. he had hidden in a tree close by the big tussock of grass, behind which peter rabbit had planned to place mr. blacksnake's old suit so as to scare danny meadow mouse. his eyes had sparkled when he saw what a fine big suit it was. "my, but this will save me a lot of trouble," said he to himself. "it's the finest old suit i've ever seen." the minute peter rabbit and johnny chuck had turned their backs down dropped cresty the fly-catcher, picked up mr. blacksnake's old suit, and taking it with him, once more hid in the tree. presently back came peter rabbit with danny meadow mouse. you know what had happened then. cresty the fly-catcher had nearly dropped his prize, it tickled him so to see peter rabbit on one side of the big tussock laughing fit to kill himself at the scare he thought danny meadow mouse would get when he first saw mr. blacksnake's old suit, and on the other side of the big tussock danny meadow mouse laughing fit to kill himself over the surprise peter rabbit would get when he found that mr. blacksnake's old clothes had disappeared. pretty soon peter rabbit had stopped laughing and peeped around the big tussock. there sat danny meadow mouse laughing fit to kill himself, but not a trace of the old suit which was to have given him such a scare. peter couldn't believe his own eyes, for he had left it there not three minutes before. of course it wouldn't do to say anything about it, so he had hurried around the big tussock as if he was merely trying to catch up. "what are you laughing at, danny meadow mouse?" asked peter rabbit. "i was thinking what a joke it would be if we could only find an old suit of mr. blacksnake's and fool old mr. toad into thinking that it was mr. blacksnake himself," replied danny meadow mouse. "what are you looking for, peter rabbit? have you lost something?" "no," said peter rabbit. "i thought i heard footsteps, and i was looking to see if it could be reddy fox creeping through the grass." danny meadow mouse had stopped laughing. "excuse me, peter rabbit," said he hurriedly, "i've just remembered an important engagement." and off he started for home as fast as he could go. and to this day peter rabbit doesn't know what became of mr. blacksnake's old clothes. viii the fuss in the big pine peter rabbit hopped down the crooked little path to the lone little path and down the lone little path to the home of johnny chuck. johnny chuck sat on his doorstep dreaming. they were very pleasant dreams, very pleasant dreams indeed. they were such pleasant dreams that for once johnny chuck forgot to put his funny little ears on guard. so johnny chuck sat on his doorstep dreaming and heard nothing. lipperty-lipperty-lip down the lone little path came peter rabbit. he saw johnny chuck and he stopped long enough to pluck a long stem of grass. then very, very softly he stole up behind johnny chuck. reaching out with the long stem of grass, he tickled one of johnny chuck's ears. johnny chuck slapped at his ear with a little black hand, for he thought a fly was bothering him, just as peter rabbit meant that he should. peter tickled the other ear. johnny chuck shook his head and slapped at this with the other little black hand. peter almost giggled. he sat still a few minutes, then tickled johnny chuck again. johnny slapped three or four times at the imaginary fly. this time peter clapped both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing. once more he tickled johnny chuck. this time johnny jumped clear off his doorstep. peter laughed before he could clap his hands over his mouth. of course johnny chuck heard him and whirled about. when he saw peter rabbit and the long stem of grass he laughed, too. "hello, peter rabbit! you fooled me that time. where'd you come from?" asked johnny chuck. "down the lone little path from the crooked little path and down the crooked little path from the top of the hill," replied peter rabbit. then they sat down side by side on johnny chuck's doorstep to watch reddy fox hunting for his dinner on the green meadows. pretty soon they heard blacky the crow cawing very loudly. they could see him on the tip-top of a big pine in the green forest on the edge of the green meadows. "caw, caw, caw," shouted blacky the crow, at the top of his lungs. in a few minutes they saw all of blacky's aunts and uncles and cousins flying over to join blacky at the big pine in the midst of the green forest. soon there was a big crowd of crows around the big pine, all talking at once. such a racket! such a dreadful racket! every few minutes one of them would fly into the big pine and yell at the top of his lungs. then all would caw together. another would fly into the big pine and they would do it all over again. peter rabbit began to get interested, for you know peter has a very great deal of curiosity. "now i wonder what blacky the crow and his aunts and his uncles and his cousins are making such a fuss about," said peter rabbit. "i'm sure i don't know," replied johnny chuck. "they seem to be having a good time, anyway. my gracious, how noisy they are!" just then along came sammy jay, who is, as you know, first cousin to blacky the crow. he was coming from the direction of the big pine. "sammy! oh, sammy jay! what is all that fuss about over in the big pine?" shouted peter rabbit. sammy jay stopped and carefully brushed his handsome blue coat, for sammy jay is something of a dandy. he appeared not to have heard peter rabbit. "sammy jay, are you deaf?" inquired peter rabbit. now of course sammy jay had seen peter rabbit and johnny chuck all the time, but he looked up as if very much surprised to find them there. "oh, hello, peter rabbit!" said sammy jay. "did you speak to me?" "no, oh, no," replied peter rabbit in disgust. "i was talking to myself, just thinking out loud. i was wondering how many nuts a jay could steal if he had the chance." johnny chuck chuckled and sammy jay looked foolish. he couldn't find a word to say, for he knew that all the little meadow people knew how he once was caught stealing happy jack's store of nuts. "i asked what all that fuss over in the big pine is about," continued peter rabbit. "oh," said sammy jay, "my cousin, blacky the crow, found hooty the owl asleep over there, and now he and his aunts and his uncles and his cousins are having no end of fun with him. you know hooty the owl cannot see in the daytime very well, and they can do almost anything to him that they want to. it's great sport." "i don't see any sport in making other people uncomfortable," said johnny chuck. "nor i," said peter rabbit. "i'd be ashamed to own a cousin like blacky the crow. i like people who mind their own affairs and leave other people alone." sammy jay ran out his tongue at peter rabbit. "you are a nice one to talk about minding other folk's affairs!" jeered sammy jay. "peter rabbit's ears are long; i wonder why! i wonder why! because to hear what others say he's bound to try! he's bound to try." it was peter rabbit's turn to look discomfited. "anyway, i don't try to bully and torment others and i don't steal," he retorted. "sammy jay's a handsome chap and wears a coat of blue. i wonder if it's really his or if he stole _that_, too." just then johnny chuck's sharp eyes caught sight of something stealing along the edge of the green meadows toward the green forest and the big pine. "there's farmer brown's boy with a gun," cried johnny chuck. "there's going to be trouble at the big pine if blacky the crow doesn't watch out. that's what comes of being so noisy." peter rabbit and sammy jay stopped quarreling to look. sure enough, there was farmer brown's boy with his gun. he had heard blacky the crow and his aunts and his uncles and his cousins and he had hurried to get his gun, hoping to take them by surprise. but blacky the crow has sharp eyes, too. indeed, there are none sharper. then, too, he is a mischief-maker. mischief-makers are always on the watch lest they get caught in their mischief. so blacky the crow, sitting on the tip-top of the big pine, kept one eye out for trouble while he enjoyed the tormenting of hooty the owl by his aunts and his uncles and his cousins. he had seen farmer brown's boy even before johnny chuck had. but he couldn't bear to spoil the fun of tormenting hooty the owl, so he waited just as long as he dared. then he gave the signal. "caw, caw, caw, caw!" shouted blacky at the top of his lungs. "caw, caw, caw, caw!" replied all his aunts and uncles and cousins, rising into the air in a black cloud. then, with blacky in the lead, they flew over on to the green meadows, laughing and talking noisily as they went. farmer brown's boy did not try to follow them, for he knew that it was of not the least bit of use. but he was curious to learn what the crows had been making such a fuss about, so he kept on towards the big pine. johnny chuck watched him go. suddenly he remembered hooty the owl, and that hooty cannot see well in the daytime. very likely hooty would think that the crows had become tired of tormenting him and had gone off of their own accord. farmer brown's boy would find him there and then--johnny chuck shuddered as he thought of what might happen to hooty the owl. "run, peter rabbit, run as fast as you can down on the green meadows where the merry little breezes are at play and send one of them to tell hooty the owl that farmer brown's boy is coming with a gun to the big pine! hurry, peter, hurry!" cried johnny chuck. peter did not need to be told twice. he saw the danger of hooty the owl, and he started down the lone little path on to the green meadows so fast that in a few minutes all johnny chuck and sammy jay could see of him was a little spot of white, which was the patch on the seat of peter's pants, bobbing through the grass on the green meadows. johnny chuck would have gone himself, but he is round and fat and roly-poly and cannot run fast, while peter rabbit's legs are long and meant for running. in a few minutes johnny chuck saw one of the merry little breezes start for the big pine as fast as he could go. johnny gave a great sigh of relief. farmer brown's boy kept on to the big pine. when he got there he found no one there, for hooty the owl had heeded the warning of the merry little breeze and had flown into the deepest, darkest part of the green forest, where not even the sharp eyes of blacky the crow were likely to find him. and back on his doorstep johnny chuck chuckled to himself, for he was happy, was johnny chuck, happy because he possessed the best thing in the world, which is contentment. and this is all i am going to tell you about the fuss in the big pine. ix johnny chuck finds a use for his back door johnny chuck sat in his doorway looking over the green meadows. he felt very fine. he had had a good breakfast in the sweet-clover patch. he had had a good nap on his own doorstep. by and by he saw the merry little breezes of old mother west wind hurrying in his direction. they seemed in a very great hurry. they didn't stop to kiss the buttercups or tease the daisies. johnny pricked up his small ears and watched them hurry up the hill. "good morning, johnny chuck," panted the first merry little breeze to reach him, "have you heard the news?" "what news?" asked johnny chuck. "the news about old mother chuck," replied the merry little breezes. johnny shook his head. "no," said he. "what is it?" the merry little breezes grew very, very sober. "it is bad news," they replied. "what is it? tell me quick!" begged johnny. just then reddy fox came hopping and skipping down the lone little path. "hi, johnny chuck, have you heard the news?" "no," said johnny chuck, "do tell me quick!" reddy fox grinned maliciously, for reddy likes to torment others. "it's about old mrs. chuck," said reddy. "i know that already," replied johnny, "but, please, what is it?" "farmer brown's boy has caught old mrs. chuck, and now i wouldn't wonder but what he will come up here and catch you," replied reddy, turning a somersault. johnny chuck grew pale. he had not seen mother chuck to speak to since he ran away from home. now he was glad that he had run away, and yet sorry, oh, so sorry that anything had happened to mrs. chuck. two big tears came into his eyes and ran down his funny little black nose. the merry little breezes saw this, and one of them hurried over and whispered in johnny chuck's ear. "don't cry, johnny chuck," whispered the merry little breeze. "old mother chuck got away, and farmer brown's boy is still wondering how she did it." johnny's heart gave a great throb of relief. "i don't believe that farmer brown's boy will catch me," said johnny chuck, "for my house has two back doors." johnny chuck awoke very early the next morning. he stretched and yawned and then just lay quietly enjoying himself for a few minutes. his bedchamber, way down underground, was snug and warm and very, very comfortable. by and by, johnny chuck heard a noise up by his front door. "i wonder what is going on out there," said johnny chuck to himself, and jumping up, he tiptoed softly up the long hall until he had almost reached his doorway. then he heard a voice which he had heard before, and it made little shivers run all over him. it was the voice of granny fox. "so this is where that fat little chuck has made his home," said granny fox. "yes," replied another voice, "this is where johnny chuck lives, for i saw him here yesterday." johnny pricked up his ears, for that was the voice of reddy fox. "do you think he is in here now?" inquired granny fox. "i am sure of it," replied reddy, "for i have been watching ever since jolly, round, red mr. sun threw his nightcap off this morning, and johnny chuck has not put his nose out yet." "good," said granny fox, "i think fat chuck will taste good for breakfast." johnny felt the cold shivers run over him again as he heard granny fox and reddy fox smack their lips. then granny fox spoke again: "you lie down behind that bunch of grass over there, reddy, and i will lie down behind the old apple-tree. when he comes out, you just jump into his doorway and i will catch him before he can say jack robinson." johnny waited and listened and listened, but all was as still as still could be. then johnny chuck tiptoed back along the hall to his bedroom and sat down to think. he felt sure that granny fox and reddy were waiting for him, just as he had heard them plan. "however am i going to know when they leave?" said johnny chuck to himself. then he remembered the back doors which he had taken such care to make, and which peter rabbit had laughed at him for taking the trouble to make. he had hidden one so cunningly in the long grass and had so carefully removed all sand from around it that he felt quite sure that no one had found it. very softly johnny chuck crept along the back passageway. very, very cautiously he stuck his little black nose out the doorway and sniffed. yes, he could smell foxes, but he knew that they were not at his back door. little by little he crept out until he could peep through the grass. there lay reddy fox behind a big clump of grass, his eyes fixed on johnny chuck's front door, and there behind the apple-tree lay granny fox taking her ease, but all ready to jump when reddy should give the word. johnny chuck almost giggled out loud as he saw how eagerly reddy fox was watching for him. then johnny chuck had an idea that made him giggle harder. his black eyes snapped and he chuckled to himself. pretty soon along came bumble the bee, looking for honey. he came bustling and humming through the tall grass and settled on a dandelion right on the doorstep of johnny chuck's back door. "good morning," grumbled bumble the bee. johnny put a hand on his lips and beckoned bumble to come inside. now bumble the bee is a gruff and rough fellow, but he is a good fellow, too, when you know him. johnny chuck had many times told him of places where the flowers grew thick and sweet, so when johnny beckoned to him, bumble came at once. "will you do something for me, bumble?" whispered johnny chuck. "of course, i will," replied bumble, in his gruff voice. "what is it?" then johnny chuck told bumble the bee how granny and reddy fox were waiting for him to come out for his breakfast and how they had planned to gobble him up for their own breakfast. bumble the bee grew very indignant. "what do you want me to do, johnny chuck?" he asked. "if i can help you, just tell me how." johnny whispered something to bumble the bee, and bumble laughed right out loud. then he buzzed up out of the doorway, and johnny crept up to watch. straight over to where reddy fox was squatting behind the clump of grass flew bumble the bee, so swiftly that johnny could hardly see him. suddenly reddy gave a yelp and sprang into the air. johnny chuck clapped both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, for you see bumble the bee had stuck his sharp little lance into one of the ears of reddy fox. granny fox looked up and scowled. "keep still," she whispered. just then reddy yelped louder than before, for bumble had stung him in the other ear. "what's the matter?" snapped granny fox. "i don't know," cried reddy fox, hanging on to both ears. "you are--" began granny fox, but johnny chuck never knew what she was going to say reddy fox was, for you see just then bumble the bee thrust his sharp little lance into one of her ears, and before she could turn around he had done the same thing to the other ear. granny fox didn't wait for any more. she started off as fast as she could go, with reddy fox after her, and every few steps they rubbed their ears and shook their heads as if they thought they could shake out the pain. x billy mink goes dinnerless down the laughing brook came billy mink. he was feeling very good that morning, was billy mink, pleased with the world in general and with himself in particular. when he reached the smiling pool he swam out to the big rock. little joe otter was already there, and not far away, lazily floating, with his head and back out of water, was jerry muskrat. "hello, billy mink," cried little joe otter. "hello yourself," replied billy mink, with a grin. "where are you going?" asked little joe otter. "nowhere in particular," replied billy mink. "let's go fishing down to the big river," said little joe otter. "let's!" cried billy, diving from the highest point on the big rock. so off they started across the green meadows towards the big river. half way there they met reddy fox. "hello, reddy! come on with us to the big river, fishing," called billy mink. [illustration: "come on with us to the big river, fishing," called billy mink.] now reddy fox is no fisherman, though he likes fish to eat well enough. he remembered the last time he went fishing and how billy mink had laughed at him when he fell into the smiling pool. he was just about to say "no" when he changed his mind. "all right, i'll go," said reddy fox. so the three of them raced merrily across the green meadows until they came to the big river. now billy mink and little joe otter are famous fishermen and can swim even faster than the fish themselves. but reddy fox is a poor swimmer and must depend upon his wits. when they reached the bank of the big river they very carefully crawled down to a sandy beach. there, just a little way out from shore, a school of little striped perch were at play. billy mink and little joe otter prepared to dive in and each grab a fish, but reddy fox knew that he could not swim well enough for that. "wait a minute," whispered reddy. "billy mink, you go up the river a little way and swim out beyond where the fish are at play. little joe otter, you go down the river a little way and swim out to join billy mink. then both together rush in as fast as you can swim. the fish will be so frightened they will rush in where the water is shallow. of course you will each catch one, anyway, and perhaps i may be so lucky as to catch one in the shallow water." billy mink and little joe otter agreed, and did just as reddy fox had told them to. when they were between the playing fish and deep water they started in with a rush. the little striped perch were young and foolish. when they saw billy mink and little joe otter they rushed madly away from them without looking to see where they were going to. as reddy fox had foreseen would be the case, a lot of them became stranded where the water was too shallow for swimming, and there they jumped and flapped helplessly. reddy was waiting for them and in a twinkling his little black paw had scooped half a dozen fish high and dry on the beach. billy mink and little joe otter were too busy watching the fish to see what reddy was doing. he had caught six fish and these he hid under a log. when billy mink and little joe otter swam ashore, reddy was the picture of disappointment, for he had nothing to show, while the others each had a plump little fish. "never mind," said little joe otter, "i'll give you the next one i catch." but billy mink jeered at reddy fox. "pooh! you're no fisherman, reddy fox! if i couldn't catch fish when they are chased right into my hands i'd never go fishing." reddy fox pretended to be indignant. "i tell you what, billy mink," said he, "if i don't catch more fish than you do to-day i'll bring you the plumpest chicken in farmer brown's dooryard, but if i do catch more fish than you do you will give me the biggest one you catch. do you agree?" now billy mink is very fond of plump chicken and here was a chance to get one without danger of meeting bowser the hound, who guards farmer brown's chickens. so billy mink agreed to give reddy fox the biggest fish he caught that day if reddy could show more fish than he could at the end of the day. all the time he chuckled to himself, for you know billy mink is a famous fisherman, and he knew that reddy fox is a poor swimmer and does not like the water. by and by they came to another sandy beach like the first one. they could see another school of foolish young fish at play. as before, reddy fox remained on shore while the others swam out and drove the fish in. as before reddy caught half a dozen, while billy mink and little joe otter each caught one this time. reddy hid five and then pretended to be so tickled over catching one, the smallest of the lot, that billy mink didn't once suspect a trick. two or three times more reddy fox repeated this. then he discovered a big pickerel sunning himself beside an old log floating in deep water. reddy couldn't catch mr. pickerel, for the water was deep. what should he do? reddy sat down to think. finally he thought of a plan. very cautiously he backed away so as not to scare the big fish. then he called billy mink. when billy saw the big pickerel, his mouth watered, too, and his little black eyes sparkled. very quietly billy slipped into the water back of the old log. there was not so much as a ripple to warn the big pickerel. drawing a long breath, billy dived under the log, and coming up under the big pickerel, seized it by the middle. there was a tremendous thrashing and splashing, and then billy mink swam ashore and proudly laid the big fish on the bank. "don't you wish it was yours?" asked billy mink. "it ought to be mine, for i saw it first," said reddy fox. "but you didn't catch it and i did," retorted billy mink. "i'm going to have it for my dinner. my, but i do like fat pickerel!" billy smacked his lips. reddy fox said nothing, but tried his best to look disappointed and dejected. all the time he was chuckling inwardly. for the rest of the day the fishing was poor. just as old mother west wind started for the green meadows to take her children, the merry little breezes, to their home behind the purple hills, the three little fishermen started to count up their catch. then reddy brought out all the fish that he had hidden. when they saw the pile of fish reddy fox had, billy mink and little joe otter were so surprised that their eyes popped out and their jaws dropped. very foolish they looked, very foolish indeed, for reddy had four times as many as either of them. reddy walked over to the big pickerel and picking it up, carried it over to his pile. "what are you doing with my fish?" shouted billy mink angrily. "it isn't yours, it's mine!" retorted reddy fox. billy mink fairly danced up and down he was so angry. "it's not yours!" he shrieked. "it's mine, for i caught it!" "and you agreed that your biggest fish should be mine if i caught more fish than you did. i've caught four times as many, so the pickerel is mine," retorted reddy, winking at little joe otter. then billy mink did a very foolish thing; he lost his temper completely. he called reddy fox bad names. but he did not dare try to take the big pickerel away from reddy, for reddy is much bigger than he. finally he worked himself into such a rage that he ran off home leaving his pile of fish behind. reddy fox and little joe otter took care not to touch billy mink's fish, but reddy divided his big pile with little joe otter. then they, too, started for home, reddy carrying the big pickerel. late that night, when he had recovered his temper, billy mink began to grow hungry. the more he thought of his fish the hungrier he grew. finally he could stand it no longer and started for the big river to see what had become of his fish. he reached the strip of beach where he had so foolishly left them just in time to see the last striped perch disappear down the long throat of mr. night heron. and this is how it happened that billy mink went dinnerless to bed. but he had learned three things, had billy, and he never forgot them--that wit is often better than skill; that it is not only mean but is very foolish to sneer at another; and that to lose one's temper is the most foolish thing in the world. xi grandfather frog's journey grandfather frog sat on his big green lily-pad in the smiling pool and--grandfather frog was asleep! there was no doubt about it, grandfather frog was really and truly asleep. his hands were folded across his white and yellow waistcoat and his eyes were closed. three times the merry little breezes blew a foolish green fly right past his nose;--grandfather frog didn't so much as blink. presently billy mink discovered that grandfather frog was asleep. billy's little black eyes twinkled with mischief as he hurried over to the slippery slide in search of little joe otter. then the two scamps hunted up jerry muskrat. they found him very busy storing away a supply of food in his new house. at first jerry refused to listen to what they had to say, but the more they talked the more jerry became interested. "we won't hurt grandfather frog, not the least little bit," protested billy mink. "it will be just the best joke and the greatest fun ever, and no harm done." the more jerry thought over billy mink's plan, the funnier the joke seemed. finally jerry agreed to join billy mink and little joe otter. then the three put their heads together and with a lot of giggling and chuckling they planned their joke on grandfather frog. now jerry muskrat can stay a very long time under water, and his teeth are long and sharp in order to cut the roots on which he depends for much of his food. so jerry swam out to the big green lily-pad on which sat grandfather frog fast asleep. diving way to the bottom of the smiling pool, jerry cut off the stem of the big green lily-pad close to its root way down in the mud. while jerry was at work doing this, billy mink sent the merry little breezes hurrying over the green meadows to call all the little meadow people to the smiling pool. then, when jerry muskrat came up for a breath of air, billy mink dived down and, getting hold of the end of the lily-pad stem, he began to swim, towing the big green lily-pad after him very slowly and gently so as not to waken grandfather frog. when billy had to come up for air, little joe otter took his place. then jerry muskrat took his turn. across the smiling pool, past the big rock, they towed the big green lily-pad, while grandfather frog slept peacefully, his hands folded over his white and yellow waistcoat. past the bulrushes and jerry muskrat's new house, past little joe otter's slippery slide sailed grandfather frog, and still he slept and dreamed of the days when the world was young. out of the smiling pool and into the laughing brook, where the brown water flows smoothly, the three little swimmers towed the big green lily-pad. it floated along of itself now, and all they had to do was to steer it clear of rocks and old logs. once it almost got away from them, on the edge of a tiny waterfall, but all three pulling together towed it out of danger. at last, in a dear little pool with a mossy green bank, they anchored the big green lily-pad. then billy mink hurried back to the smiling pool to tell the little meadow people where to find grandfather frog. little joe otter climbed out on the mossy green bank and jerry muskrat joined him there to rest and dry off. one by one the little meadow people came hurrying up. reddy fox was the first. then came johnny chuck and striped chipmunk. of course peter rabbit was on hand. you can always count peter in, when there is anything going on among the little meadow people. danny meadow mouse and happy jack squirrel arrived quite out of breath. sammy jay and blacky the crow were not far behind. last of all came jimmy skunk, who never hurries. each in turn peeped over the edge of the mossy green bank to see grandfather frog still sleeping peacefully on his big green lily-pad in the dear little pool. then all hid where they could see him when he awoke, but where he could not see them. presently billy mink reached out with a long straw and tickled grandfather frog on the end of his nose. grandfather frog opened his eyes and yawned sleepily. right over his head he saw jolly, round, red mr. sun smiling down on him just as he last saw him before falling asleep. he yawned again and then looked to see if billy mink was sitting on the big rock. where was the big rock? grandfather frog sat up very suddenly and rubbed his eyes. there wasn't any big rock! grandfather frog pinched himself to make sure that he was awake. then he rubbed his eyes again and looked down at the big green lily-pad. yes, that was his, the very same lily-pad on which he sat every day. grandfather frog was more perplexed than ever. slowly he looked around. where were the slippery slide and jerry muskrat's new house? where were the bulrushes and where--where was the _smiling pool_? grandfather frog's jaw dropped as he looked about him. his own big green lily-pad was the only lily-pad in sight. had the world turned topsy-turvy while he slept? "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog. "this is very strange, very strange, indeed!" then he turned around three times and pinched himself again. "very strange, very strange, indeed," muttered grandfather frog over and over again. he scratched his head first with one hand and then with the other, and the more he scratched the stranger it all seemed. just then he heard a giggle up on the mossy green bank. grandfather frog whirled around. "chug-a-rum!" he exclaimed. "billy mink, come out from behind that tall grass and tell me where i am and what this means! i might have known that you were at the bottom of it." then out jumped all the little meadow people and the merry little breezes to shout and laugh and dance and roll over and over on the mossy green bank. grandfather frog looked at one and then at another and gradually he began to smile. pretty soon he was laughing as hard as any of them, as billy mink told how they had towed him down to the dear little pool. "and now, grandfather frog, we'll take you home again," concluded billy mink. so, as before, billy mink and little joe otter and jerry muskrat took turns towing the big green lily-pad, while in the middle of it sat grandfather frog, catching foolish green flies which the merry little breezes blew over to him. reddy fox, johnny chuck, peter rabbit, danny meadow mouse, striped chipmunk, happy jack squirrel and jimmy skunk raced and capered along the bank and shouted encouragement to the three little swimmers, while over-head flew sammy jay and blacky the crow. and, never once losing his balance, grandfather frog sat on the big green lily-pad, enjoying his strange ride and smacking his lips over the foolish green flies. and so they came once more to the smiling pool, past the slippery slide, past the bulrushes and jerry muskrat's new house and the big rock, until grandfather frog and his queer craft were once more anchored safe and sound in the old familiar place. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog. "i think i'd like to go again." xii why blacky the crow wears mourning grandfather frog sat on his big green lily-pad in the smiling pool. grandfather frog felt very good that morning, very good indeed, because--why, because his white and yellow waistcoat was full of foolish green flies. it is doubtful, very, very doubtful if grandfather frog could have swallowed another foolish green fly to save his life. so he sat with his hands folded across his white and yellow waistcoat, and into his eyes, his great goggly eyes, there crept a far, far, far away look. grandfather frog was dreaming of the days when the world was young and the frogs ruled the world. pretty soon the merry little breezes of old mother west wind came over to the smiling pool to rock mrs. redwing's babies to sleep in their cradle in the bulrushes. but when they saw grandfather frog they forgot all about mrs. redwing and her babies. "good morning, grandfather frog!" they shouted. grandfather frog awoke from his dream with a funny little jump. "goodness, how you startled me!" said grandfather frog, smoothing down his white and yellow waistcoat. the merry little breezes giggled. "we didn't mean to, truly we didn't," said the merriest one of all. "we just wanted to know how you do this fine morning, and--and--" "chug-a-rum," said grandfather frog, "you want me to tell you a story." the merry little breezes giggled again. "how did you ever guess it?" they cried. "it must be because you are so very, very wise. will you tell us a story, grandfather frog? will you please?" grandfather frog looked up and winked one big, goggly eye at jolly, round, red mr. sun, who was smiling down from the blue sky. then he sat still so long that the merry little breezes began to fear that grandfather frog was out of sorts and that there would be no story that morning. they fidgeted about among the bulrushes and danced back and forth across the lily-pads. they had even begun to think again of mrs. redwing's babies. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog suddenly. "what shall i tell you about?" just then a black shadow swept across the smiling pool. "caw, caw, caw, caw!" shouted blacky the crow noisily, as he flew over toward farmer brown's cornfield. "tell us why blacky the crow always wears a coat of black, as if he were in mourning," shouted the merry little breezes. grandfather frog watched blacky disappear behind the lone pine. then, when the merry little breezes had settled down, each in the golden heart of a white water-lily, he began: "once upon a time, when the world was young, old mr. crow, the grandfather a thousand times removed of blacky, whom you all know, lived in the green forest on the edge of the green meadows, just as blacky does now, and with him lived his brothers and sisters, his uncles and aunts, his cousins and all his poor relations. "now mr. crow was very smart. indeed, he was the smartest of all the birds. there wasn't anything that old mr. crow couldn't do or didn't know. at least he thought there wasn't. all the little meadow people and forest folks began to think so, too, and one after another they got in the habit of coming to him for advice, until pretty soon they were bringing all their affairs to mr. crow for settlement. "now for a while mr. crow showed great wisdom, and this so pleased old mother nature that she gave him a suit of pure, dazzling white, so that all seeing him might look up to him as a shining example of wisdom and virtue. of course all his brothers and sisters, his uncles and aunts, his cousins and all his poor relations at once put on white, that all might know that they were of mr. crow's family. and of course every one showed them the greatest attention out of respect to old mr. crow, so that presently they began to hold their heads very high and to think that because they were related to old mr. crow they were a little better than any of the other little meadow people and forest folks. when they met old mr. rabbit they would pretend not to see him, because he wore a white patch on the seat of his trousers. when old mr. woodchuck said 'good morning,' they would pretend not to hear, for you know mr. woodchuck wore a suit of dingy yellow and lived in a hole in the ground. old mr. toad was ugly to look upon. besides, he worked for his living in a garden. so when they happened to meet him on the road they always turned their backs. "for a long time old mr. crow himself continued to be a very fine gentleman and to hold the respect of all his neighbors. he was polite to every one, and to all who came to him he freely gave of his advice as wisely as he knew how. of course it wasn't long before he knew all about his neighbors and their private affairs. now it isn't safe to know too much about your neighbors and what they are doing. it is dangerous knowledge, very dangerous knowledge indeed," said grandfather frog solemnly. "to be sure it would have been safe enough," he continued, "if mr. crow had kept it to himself. but after a while mr. crow became vain. yes, sir, that is just what happened to old mr. crow--he became vain. he liked to feel that all the little meadow people and forest folks looked up to him with respect, and whenever he saw one of them coming he would brush his white coat, swell himself up and look very important. after a while he began to brag among his relatives of how much he knew about his neighbors. of course they were very much interested, very much interested indeed, and this flattered mr. crow so that almost before he knew it he was telling some of the private affairs which had been brought to him for his advice. oh, dear me, mr. crow began to gossip. "now, gossiping is one of the worst habits in all the world, one of the very worst. no good ever comes of it. it just makes trouble, trouble, trouble. it was so now. mr. crow's relatives repeated the stories that they heard. but they took great care that no one should know where they came from. my, my, my, how trouble did spread on the green meadows and in the green forest! no one suspected old mr. crow, so he was more in demand than ever to straighten matters out. his neighbors came to him so much that they began to be ashamed to ask his advice for nothing, so they brought him presents so that no more need mr. crow hunt for things to eat. instead, he lived on the fat of the land without working, and grew fat and lazy. "as i have told you, mr. crow was smart. yes, indeed, he certainly was smart. it did not take him long to see that the more trouble there was among his neighbors the more they would need his advice, and the more they needed his advice the more presents he would receive. he grew very crafty. he would tell tales just to make trouble, and sometimes, when he saw a chance, he would give advice that he knew would make more trouble. the fact is, old mr. crow became a mischief-maker, the very worst kind of a mischief-maker. and all the time he appeared to be the fine gentleman that he used to be. he wore his fine white coat as proudly as ever. "matters grew worse and worse. never had there been so much trouble on the green meadows or so many quarrels in the green forest. old mr. mink never met old mr. otter without picking a fight. old mrs. skunk wouldn't speak to old mrs. coon. old mr. chipmunk turned his back on his cousin, old mr. red squirrel, whenever their paths crossed. even my grandfather a thousand times removed, old mr. frog, refused to see his nearest relative, old mr. toad. and all the time old mr. crow wore his beautiful suit of white and grew rich and fat, chuckling to himself over his ill-gotten wealth. "then one day came old mother nature to visit the green meadows. it didn't take her long to find that something was wrong, very wrong indeed. old mr. crow and all his relatives hastened to pay their respects and to tell her how much they appreciated their beautiful white suits. old mr. crow made a full report of all the troubles that had been brought to him, but he took great care not to let her know that he had had any part in making trouble. he looked very innocent, oh, very, very innocent, but not once did he look her straight in the face. "now the eyes of old mother nature are wonderfully sharp and they seemed to bore right through old mr. crow. you can't fool old mother nature. no, sir, you can't fool old mother nature, and it's of no use to try. she listened to all that mr. crow had to say. then she sent mr. north wind to blow his great trumpet and call together all the little people of the green meadows and all the little folks of the green forest. "when they had all come together she told them all that had happened. she told just how mr. crow had started the stories in order to make trouble so that they would seek his advice and bring him presents to pay for it. when the neighbors of old mr. crow heard this they were very angry, and they demanded of old mother nature that mr. crow be punished. "'look!' said old mother nature, pointing at old mr. crow. 'he has been punished already.' "every one turned to look at mr. crow. at first they hardly knew him. instead of his suit of spotless white his clothes were black, as black as the blackest night. so were the clothes of his uncles and aunts, his brothers and sisters, his cousins and all his poor relations. "and ever since that long-ago day, when the world was young, the crows have been mischief-makers and have worn black, that all who look may know that they bring nothing but trouble," concluded grandfather frog. "thank you! thank you, grandfather frog," shouted the merry little breezes, jumping up to go rock the redwing babies. "caw, caw, caw, caw!" shouted blacky the crow, flying over their heads with a mouthful of corn he had stolen from farmer brown's cornfield. xiii striped chipmunk fools peter rabbit peter rabbit sat at the top of the crooked little path where it starts down the hill. he was sitting there when jolly, round, red mr. sun threw his nightcap off and began his daily climb up into the blue, blue sky. he saw old mother west wind hurry down from the purple hills and turn her merry little breezes out to play on the green meadows. peter yawned. the fact is, peter had been out nearly all night, and now he didn't know just what to do with himself. presently he saw striped chipmunk whisk up on top of an old log. as usual the pockets in striped chipmunk's cheeks were stuffed so full that his head looked to be twice as big as it really is, and as usual he seemed to be very busy, very busy indeed. he stopped just long enough to wink one of his saucy black eyes and shout: "good morning, peter rabbit!" then he disappeared as suddenly as he had come. a few minutes later he was back on the old log, but this time his cheeks were empty. "fine day, peter rabbit," said striped chipmunk, and whisked out of sight. peter rabbit yawned again. then he closed his eyes for just a minute. when he opened them there was striped chipmunk on the old log just as before, and the pockets in both cheeks were so full that it seemed as if they would burst. "nice morning to work, peter rabbit," said striped chipmunk, in spite of his full cheeks. then he was gone. once more peter rabbit closed his eyes, but hardly were they shut when striped chipmunk shouted: "oh, you peter rabbit, been out all night?" peter snapped his eyes open just in time to see the funny little tail of striped chipmunk vanish over the side of the old log. peter scratched one of his long ears and yawned again, for peter was growing more and more sleepy. it was a long yawn, but peter cut it off right in the middle, for there was striped chipmunk back on the old log, and both pockets in his cheeks were stuffed full. now peter rabbit is as curious as he is lazy, and you know he is very, very lazy. the fact is, peter rabbit's curiosity is his greatest fault, and it gets him into a great deal of trouble. it is because of this and the bad, bad habit of meddling in the affairs of other people into which it has led him that peter rabbit has such long ears. for a while peter watched busy striped chipmunk. then he began to wonder what striped chipmunk could be doing. the more he wondered the more he felt that he really must know. the next time striped chipmunk appeared on the old log, peter shouted to him. "hi, striped chipmunk, what are you so busy about? why don't you play a little?" striped chipmunk stopped a minute. "i'm building a new house," said he. "where?" asked peter rabbit. "that's telling," replied striped chipmunk, and whisked out of sight. now peter rabbit knew where reddy fox and jimmy skunk and bobby coon and happy jack squirrel and johnny chuck and danny meadow mouse lived. he knew all the little paths leading to their homes. but he did not know where striped chipmunk lived. he never had known. he thought of this as he watched striped chipmunk hurrying back and forth. the more he thought of it the more curious he grew. he really _must_ know. pretty soon along came jimmy skunk, looking for some beetles. "hello, jimmy skunk," said peter rabbit. "hello, peter rabbit," said jimmy skunk. "do you know where striped chipmunk lives?" asked peter rabbit. "no, i don't know where striped chipmunk lives, and i don't care; it's none of my business," replied jimmy skunk. "have you seen any beetles this morning?" peter rabbit hadn't seen any beetles, so jimmy skunk went on down the crooked little path, still looking for his breakfast. by and by along came johnny chuck. "hello, johnny chuck!" said peter rabbit. "hello, yourself!" said johnny chuck. "do you know where striped chipmunk lives?" asked peter rabbit. "no, i don't, for it's none of my business," said johnny chuck, and started on down the crooked little path to the green meadows. then along came bobby coon. "hello, bobby coon!" said peter rabbit. "hello!" replied bobby coon shortly, for he too had been out all night and was very sleepy. "do you know where striped chipmunk lives?" asked peter rabbit. "don't know and don't want to; it's none of my business," said bobby coon even more shortly than before, and started on for his hollow chestnut tree to sleep the long, bright day away. peter rabbit could stand it no longer. curiosity had driven away all desire to sleep. he simply had to know where striped chipmunk lived. "i'll just follow striped chipmunk and see for myself where he lives," said peter to himself. so peter rabbit hid behind a tuft of grass close by the old log and sat very, very still. it was a very good place to hide, a very good place. probably if peter rabbit had not been so brimming over with curiosity he would have succeeded in escaping the sharp eyes of striped chipmunk. but people full of curiosity are forever pricking up their ears to hear things which do not in the least concern them. it was so with peter rabbit. he was so afraid that he would miss something that both his long ears were standing up straight, and they came above the grass behind which peter rabbit was hiding. of course striped chipmunk saw them the very instant he jumped up on the old log with both pockets in his cheeks stuffed full. he didn't say a word, but his sharp little eyes twinkled as he jumped off the end of the old log and scurried along under the bushes, for he guessed what peter rabbit was hiding for, and though he did not once turn his head he knew that peter was following him. you see peter runs with big jumps, lipperty-lipperty-lip, and people who jump must make a noise. so, though he tried very hard not to make a sound, peter was in such a hurry to keep striped chipmunk in sight that he really made a great deal of noise. the more noise peter made, the more striped chipmunk chuckled to himself. presently striped chipmunk stopped. then he sat up very straight and looked this way and looked that way, just as if trying to make sure that no one was watching him. then he emptied two pocketfuls of shining yellow gravel on to a nice new mound which he was building. once more he sat up and looked this way and looked that way. then he scuttled back towards the old log. as he ran striped chipmunk chuckled and chuckled to himself, for all the time he had seen peter rabbit lying flat down behind a little bush and knew that peter rabbit was thinking to himself how smart he had been to find striped chipmunk's home when no one else knew where it was. no sooner was striped chipmunk out of sight than up jumped peter rabbit. he smiled to himself as he hurried over to the shining mound of yellow gravel. you see peter's curiosity was so great that not once did he think how mean he was to spy on striped chipmunk. "now," thought peter, "i know where striped chipmunk lives. jimmy skunk doesn't know. johnny chuck doesn't know. bobby coon doesn't know. but _i_ know. striped chipmunk may fool all the others, but he can't fool me." by this time peter rabbit had reached the shining mound of yellow gravel. at once he began to hunt for the doorway to striped chipmunk's home. but there wasn't any doorway. no, sir, there wasn't any doorway! look as he would, peter rabbit could not find the least sign of a doorway. he walked 'round and 'round the mound and looked here and looked there, but not the least sign of a door was to be seen. there was nothing but the shining mound of yellow gravel, the green grass, the green bushes and the blue, blue sky, with jolly, round, red mr. sun looking down and laughing at him. peter rabbit sat down on striped chipmunk's shining mound of yellow gravel and scratched his left ear with his left hindfoot. then he scratched his right ear with his right hindfoot. it was very perplexing. indeed, it was so perplexing that peter quite forgot that striped chipmunk would soon be coming back. suddenly right behind peter's back striped chipmunk spoke. "how do you like my sand pile, peter rabbit? don't you think it is a pretty nice sand pile?" asked striped chipmunk politely. and all the time he was chuckling away to himself. peter was so surprised that he very nearly fell backward off the shining mound of yellow gravel. for a minute he didn't know what to say. then he found his tongue. [illustration: peter was so surprised that he nearly fell backward.] "oh," said peter rabbit, apparently in the greatest surprise, "is this your sand pile, striped chipmunk? it's a very nice sand pile indeed. is this where you live?" striped chipmunk shook his head. "no, oh, my, no!" said he. "i wouldn't think of living in such an exposed place! my goodness, no indeed! everybody knows where this is. i'm building a new home, you know, and of course i don't want the gravel to clutter up my dooryard. so i've brought it all here. makes a nice sand pile, doesn't it? you are very welcome to sit on my sand pile whenever you feel like it, peter rabbit. it's a good place to take a sun bath; i hope you'll come often." all the time striped chipmunk was saying this his sharp little eyes twinkled with mischief and he chuckled softly to himself. peter rabbit was more curious than ever. "where is your new home, striped chipmunk?" he asked. "not far from here; come call on me," said striped chipmunk. then with a jerk of his funny little tail he was gone. it seemed as if the earth must have swallowed him up. striped chipmunk can move very quickly, and he had whisked out of sight in the bushes before peter rabbit could turn his head to watch him. peter looked behind every bush and under every stone, but nowhere could he find striped chipmunk or a sign of striped chipmunk's home, excepting the shining mound of yellow gravel. at last peter pushed his inquisitive nose right into the doorway of bumble the bee. now bumble the bee happened to be at home, and being very short of temper, he thrust a sharp little needle into the inquisitive nose of peter rabbit. "oh! oh! oh!" shrieked peter, clapping both hands to his nose, and started off home as fast as he could go. and though he didn't know it and doesn't know it to this day, he went right across the doorstep of striped chipmunk's home. so peter still wonders and wonders where striped chipmunk lives, and no one can tell him, not even the merry little breezes. you see there is not even a sign of a path leading to his doorway, for striped chipmunk never goes or comes twice the same way. his doorway is very small, just large enough for him to squeeze through, and it is so hidden in the grass that often the merry little breezes skip right over it without seeing it. every grain of sand and gravel from the fine long halls and snug chambers striped chipmunk has built underground he has carefully carried in the pockets in his cheeks to the shining mound of yellow gravel found by peter rabbit. not so much as a grain is dropped on his doorstep to let his secret out. so in and out among the little meadow people skips striped chipmunk all the long day, and not one has found out where he lives. but no one really cares excepting peter rabbit, who is still curious. xiv jerry muskrat's new house jerry muskrat wouldn't play. billy mink had tried to get him to. little joe otter had tried to get him to. the merry little breezes had tried to get him to. it was of no use, no use at all. jerry muskrat wouldn't play. "come on, jerry, come on play with us," they begged all together. but jerry shook his head. "can't," said he. "why not? won't your mother let you?" demanded billy mink, making a long dive into the smiling pool. he was up again in time to hear jerry reply: "yes, my mother will let me. it isn't that. it's because we are going to have a long winter and a cold winter and i must prepare for it." every one laughed, every one except grandfather frog, who sat on his big green lily-pad watching for foolish green flies. "pooh!" exclaimed little joe otter. "a lot you know about it, jerry muskrat! ho, ho, ho! a lot you know about it! are you clerk of the weather? it is only fall now--what can you know about what the winter will be? oh come, jerry muskrat, don't pretend to be so wise. i can swim twice across the smiling pool while you are swimming across once--come on!" jerry muskrat shook his head. "haven't time," said he. "i tell you we are going to have a long winter and a hard winter, and i've got to prepare for it. when it comes you'll remember what i have told you." little joe otter made a wry face and slid down his slippery slide, splash into the smiling pool, throwing water all over jerry muskrat, who was sitting on the end of a log close by. jerry shook the water from his coat, which is water-proof, you know. everybody laughed, that is, everybody but grandfather frog. he did not even smile. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog, who is very wise. "jerry muskrat knows. if jerry says that we are going to have a long cold winter you may be sure that he knows what he is talking about." billy mink turned a back somersault into the smiling pool so close to the big green lily-pad on which grandfather frog sat that the waves almost threw grandfather frog into the water. "pooh," said billy mink, "how can jerry muskrat know anything more about it than we do?" grandfather frog looked at billy mink severely. he does not like billy mink, who has been known to gobble up some of grandfather frog's children when he thought that no one was looking. "old mother nature was here and told him," said grandfather frog gruffly. "oh!" exclaimed billy mink and little joe otter together. "that's different," and they looked at jerry muskrat with greater respect. "how are you going to prepare for the long cold winter, jerry muskrat?" asked one of the merry little breezes. "i'm going to build a house, a big, warm house," replied jerry muskrat, "and i'm going to begin right now." [illustration: "i'm going, to build a house," replied jerry muskrat.] splash! jerry had disappeared into the smiling pool. presently, over on the far side where the water was shallow, it began to bubble and boil as if a great fuss was going on underneath the surface. jerry muskrat had begun work. the water grew muddy, very muddy indeed, so muddy that little joe otter and billy mink climbed out on the big rock in disgust. when finally jerry muskrat swam out to rest on the end of a log they shouted to him angrily. "hi, jerry muskrat, you're spoiling our swimming water! what are you doing anyway?" "i'm digging for the foundations for my new house, and it isn't your water any more than it's mine," replied jerry muskrat, drawing a long breath before he disappeared under water again. the water grew muddier and muddier, until even grandfather frog began to look annoyed. billy mink and little joe otter started off up the laughing brook, where the water was clear. the merry little breezes danced away across the green meadows to play with johnny chuck, and grandfather frog settled himself comfortably on his big green lily-pad to dream of the days when the world was young and the frogs ruled the world. but jerry muskrat worked steadily, digging and piling sods in a circle for the foundation of his house. in the center he dug out a chamber from which he planned a long tunnel to his secret burrow far away in the bank, and another to the deepest part of the smiling pool, where even in the coldest weather the water would not freeze to the bottom as it would do in the shallow places. all day long while billy mink and little joe otter and the merry little breezes and johnny chuck and peter rabbit and danny meadow mouse and all the other little meadow people were playing or lazily taking sun naps, jerry muskrat worked steadily. jolly, round, red mr. sun, looking down from the blue, blue sky, smiled to see how industrious the little fellow was. that evening, when old mother west wind hurried across the green meadows on her way to her home behind the purple hills, she found jerry muskrat sitting on the end of a log eating his supper of fresh-water clams. showing just above the water on the edge of the smiling pool was the foundation of jerry muskrat's new house. the next morning jerry was up and at work even before old mother west wind, who is a very early riser, came down from the purple hills. of course every one was interested to see how the new house was coming along and to offer advice. "are you going to build it all of mud?" asked one of the merry little breezes. "no," said jerry muskrat, "i'm going to use green alder twigs and willow shoots and bulrush stalks. it's going to be two stories high, with a room down deep under water and another room up above with a beautiful bed of grass and soft moss." "that will be splendid!" cried the merry little breezes. then one of them had an idea. he whispered to the other little breezes. they all giggled and clapped their hands. then they hurried off to find billy mink and little joe otter. they even hunted up johnny chuck and peter rabbit and danny meadow mouse. jerry muskrat was so busy that he paid no attention to any one or anything else. he was attending strictly to the business of building a house that would keep him warm and comfortable when the long cold winter should freeze up tight the smiling pool. pretty soon he was ready for some green twigs to use in the walls of the new house. he swam across the smiling pool to the laughing brook, where the alders grow, to cut the green twigs which he needed. what do you think he found when he got there? why, the nicest little pile of green twigs, all cut ready to use, and johnny chuck cutting more. "hello, jerry muskrat," said johnny chuck. "i've cut all these green twigs for your new house. i hope you can use them." jerry was so surprised that he hardly knew what to say. he thanked johnny chuck, and with the bundle of green twigs swam back to his new house. when he had used the last one he swam across to the bulrushes on the edge of the smiling pool. "good morning, jerry muskrat," said some one almost hidden by a big pile of bulrushes, all nicely cut. "i want to help build the new house." it was danny meadow mouse. jerry muskrat was more surprised than ever. "oh, thank you, danny meadow mouse, thank you!" he said, and pushing the pile of bulrushes before him he swam back to his new house. when he had used the rushes, jerry wanted some young willow shoots, so he started for the place where the willows grow. before he reached them he heard some one shouting: "hi, jerry muskrat! see the pile of willow shoots i've cut for your new house." it was peter rabbit, who is never known to work. jerry muskrat was more surprised than ever and so pleased that all he could say was, "thank you, thank you, peter rabbit!" back to the new house he swam with the pile of young willow shoots. when he had placed them to suit him he sat up on the walls of his house to rest. he looked across the smiling pool. then he rubbed his eyes and looked again. could it be--yes, it certainly was a bundle of green alder twigs floating straight across the smiling pool towards the new house! when they got close to him jerry spied a sharp little black nose pushing them along, and back of the little black nose twinkled two little black eyes. "what are you doing with those alder twigs, billy mink?" cried jerry. "bringing them for your new house," shouted billy mink, popping out from behind the bundle of alder twigs. and that was the beginning of the busiest day that the smiling pool had ever known. billy mink brought more alder twigs and willow shoots and bulrushes as fast as johnny chuck and peter rabbit and danny meadow mouse could cut them. little joe otter brought sods and mud to hold them in place. thick and high grew the walls of the new house. in the upper part jerry built the nicest little room, and lined it with grass and soft moss, so that he could sleep warm and comfortable through the long cold winter. over all he built a strong, thick roof beautifully rounded. an hour before it was time for old mother west wind to come for the merry little breezes, jerry muskrat's new house was finished. then such a frolic as there was in and around the smiling pool! little joe otter made a new slippery slide down one side of the roof. billy mink said that the new house was better to dive off of than the big rock. then the two of them, with jerry muskrat, cut up all sorts of monkey-shines in the water, while johnny chuck, peter rabbit, danny meadow mouse and the merry little breezes danced on the shore and shouted themselves hoarse. when at last jolly, round, red mr. sun went to bed behind the purple hills, and the black shadows crept ever so softly out across the smiling pool, jerry muskrat sat on the roof of his house eating his supper of fresh-water clams. he was very tired, was jerry muskrat, very tired indeed, but he was very happy, for now he had no fear of the long cold winter. best of all his heart was full of love--love for his little playmates of the smiling pool and the green meadows. xv peter rabbit's big cousin jumper the hare had come down out of the great woods to the green meadows. he is first cousin to peter rabbit, you know, and he looks just like peter, only he is twice as big. his legs are twice as long and he can jump twice as far. all the little meadow people were very polite to jumper the hare, all but reddy fox, who is never polite to any one unless he has a favor to ask. peter rabbit was very proud of his big cousin, very proud indeed. he showed jumper the hare all the secret paths in the green forest and across the green meadows. he took him to the smiling pool and the laughing brook, and everywhere jumper the hare was met with the greatest politeness. but jumper the hare was timid, oh, very timid indeed. every few jumps he sat up very straight to look this way and look that way, and to listen with his long ears. he jumped nervously at the least little noise. yes, sir, jumper the hare certainly was very timid. "he's a coward!" sneered reddy fox. and billy mink and little joe otter and jimmy skunk, even johnny chuck, seeing jumper the hare duck and dodge at the shadow of blacky the crow, agreed with reddy fox. still, they were polite to him for the sake of peter rabbit and because jumper really was such a big, handsome fellow. but behind his back they laughed at him. even little danny meadow mouse laughed. now it happens that jumper the hare had lived all his life in the great woods, where mr. panther and tufty the lynx and fierce mr. fisher were always hunting him, but where the shadows were deep and where there were plenty of places to hide. indeed, his whole life had been a game of hide and seek, and always he had been the one sought. so on the green meadows, where hiding places were few and far between, jumper the hare was nervous. but the little meadow people, not knowing this, thought him a coward, and while they were polite to him they had little to do with him, for no one really likes a coward. peter rabbit, however, could see no fault in his big cousin. he showed him where farmer brown's tender young carrots grow, and the shortest way to the cabbage patch. he made him acquainted with all his own secret hiding places in the old brier patch. then one bright sunny morning something happened. johnny chuck saw it. jimmy skunk saw it. happy jack squirrel saw it. sammy jay saw it. and they told all the others. very early that morning reddy fox had started out to hunt for his breakfast. he was tiptoeing softly along the edge of the green forest looking for wood mice when whom should he see but peter rabbit. peter was getting his breakfast in the sweet-clover bed, just beyond the old brier patch. reddy fox squatted down behind a bush to watch. peter rabbit looked plump and fat. reddy fox licked his chops. "peter rabbit would make a better breakfast than wood mice, a very much better breakfast," said reddy fox to himself. beside, he owed peter rabbit a grudge. he had not forgotten how peter had tried to save his little brother from reddy by bringing up bowser the hound. reddy fox licked his chops again. he looked this way and he looked that way, but he could see no one watching. old mother west wind had gone about her business. the merry little breezes were over at the smiling pool to pay their respects to grandfather frog. even jolly, round, red mr. sun was behind a cloud. from his hiding place reddy could not see johnny chuck or jimmy skunk or happy jack squirrel or sammy jay. "no one will know what becomes of peter rabbit," thought reddy fox. very cautiously reddy fox crept out from behind the bush into the tall meadow grass. flat on his stomach he crawled inch by inch. every few minutes he stopped to listen and to peep over at the sweet-clover bed. there sat peter rabbit, eating, eating, eating the tender young clover as if he hadn't a care in the world but to fill his little round stomach. nearer and nearer crawled reddy fox. now he was almost near enough to spring. "thump, thump, thump!" the sound came from the brier patch. "thump, thump!" this was peter rabbit hitting the ground with one of his hind feet. he had stopped eating and was sitting up very straight. "thump, thump, thump!" came the signal from the brier patch. "thump, thump!" responded peter rabbit, and started to run. with a snarl reddy fox sprang after him. then the thing happened. reddy fox caught a glimpse of something going over him and at the same time he received a blow that rolled him over and over in the grass. in an instant he was on his feet and had whirled about, his eyes yellow with anger. there right in front of him sat jumper the hare. reddy fox could hardly believe his own eyes! could it be that jumper the hare, the coward, had dared to strike him such a blow? reddy forgot all about peter rabbit. with a snarl he rushed at jumper the hare. then it happened again. as light as a feather jumper leaped over him, and as he passed, those big hind legs, at which reddy fox had laughed, came back with a kick that knocked all the breath out of reddy fox. reddy fox was furious. twice more he sprang, and twice more he was sent sprawling, with the breath knocked out of his body. that was enough. tucking his tail between his legs, reddy fox sneaked away towards the green forest. as he ran he heard peter rabbit thumping in the old brier patch. "i'm safe," signaled peter rabbit. "thump, thump, thump, thump! the coast is clear," replied jumper the hare. reddy fox looked back from the edge of the green forest and gnashed his teeth. peter rabbit and jumper the hare were rubbing noses and contentedly eating tender young clover leaves. "now who's the coward?" jeered sammy jay from the top of the lone pine. reddy fox said nothing, but slunk out of sight. late that afternoon he sat on the hill at the top of the crooked little path, and looked down on the green meadows. over near the smiling pool were gathered all the little meadow people having the jolliest time in the world. while he watched they joined hands in a big circle and began to dance, johnny chuck, jimmy skunk, bobby coon, little joe otter, billy mink, happy jack squirrel, striped chipmunk, danny meadow mouse, peter rabbit, spotty the turtle, even grandfather frog and old mr. toad. and in the middle, sitting very straight, was jumper the hare. and since that day peter rabbit has been prouder than ever of his big cousin, jumper the hare, for now no one calls him a coward. the end * * * * * books by thornton w. burgess bedtime story-books 1. the adventures of reddy fox 2. the adventures of johnny chuck 3. the adventures of peter cottontail 4. the adventures of unc' billy possum 5. the adventures of mr. mocker 6. the adventures of jerry muskrat 7. the adventures of danny meadow mouse 8. the adventures of grandfather frog 9. the adventures of chatterer, the red squirrel 10. the adventures of sammy jay 11. the adventures of buster bear 12. the adventures of old mr. toad 13. the adventures of prickly porky 14. the adventures of old man coyote 15. the adventures of paddy the beaver 16. the adventures of poor mrs. quack 17. the adventures of bobby coon 18. the adventures of jimmy skunk 19. the adventures of bob white 20. the adventures of ol' mistah buzzard mother west wind series 1. old mother west wind 2. mother west wind's children 3. mother west wind's animal friends 4. mother west wind's neighbors 5. mother west wind "why" stories 6. mother west wind "how" stories 7. mother west wind "when" stories 8. mother west wind "where" stories green meadow series 1. happy jack 2. mrs. peter rabbit 3. bowser the hound 4. old granny fox the burgess bird book for children the burgess animal book for children mother west wind "why" stories by thornton w. burgess author of "old mother west wind," and "the bed time story-books." _illustrations in color by harrison cady_ boston little, brown, and company 1920 [illustration: "he went right on about his business." frontispiece.] books by thornton w. burgess bedtime story-books 1. the adventures of reddy fox 2. the adventures of johnny chuck 3. the adventures of peter cottontail 4. the adventures of unc' billy possum 5. the adventures of mr. mocker 6. the adventures of jerry muskrat 7. the adventures of danny meadow mouse 8. the adventures of grandfather frog 9. the adventures of chatterer, the red squirrel 10. the adventures of sammy jay 11. the adventures of buster bear 12. the adventures of old mr. toad 13. the adventures of prickly porky 14. the adventures of old man coyote 15. the adventures of paddy the beaver 16. the adventures of poor mrs. quack 17. the adventures of bobby coon 18. the adventures of jimmy skunk 19. the adventures of bob white 20. the adventures of ol' mistah buzzard mother west wind series 1. old mother west wind 2. mother west wind's children 3. mother west wind's animal friends 4. mother west wind's neighbors 5. mother west wind "why" stories 6. mother west wind "how" stories 7. mother west wind "when" stories 8. mother west wind "where" stories green meadow series 1. happy jack 2. mrs. peter rabbit 3. bowser the hound 4. old granny fox the burgess bird book for children the burgess animal book for children contents chapter i. why striped chipmunk is proud of his stripes ii. why peter rabbit cannot fold his hands iii. why unc' billy possum plays dead iv. why reddy fox wears red v. why jimmy skunk never hurries vi. why sammy jay has a fine coat vii. why jerry muskrat builds his house in the water viii. why old man coyote has many voices ix. why miner the mole lives under ground x. why mr. snake cannot wink xi. why bobby coon has rings on his tail xii. why there is a black head in the buzzard family xiii. why buster bear appears to have no tail xiv. why flitter the bat flies at night xv. why spotty the turtle carries his house with him xvi. why paddy the beaver has a broad tail list of illustrations "he went right on about his business" "as they were all very hungry, they would like to know when the feast would be ready" "you don't mean to say so, peter," interrupted grandfather frog he would make no reply, save to run out his tongue at them "then old king bear wished that he hadn't a tail" "it must be fine to fly," thought peter. "i wish i could fly" "hi, spotty!" he shouted, "where do you live?" the first thing peter looked to see was what kind of a tail paddy has i why striped chipmunk is proud of his stripes the merry little breezes of old mother west wind are great friends of striped chipmunk. they hurry to call on him the very first thing every morning after old mother west wind has brought them down from the purple hills. they always beg him to stop and play with them, but often he refuses. but he does it in such a merry way and with such a twinkle in his eyes that the merry little breezes never get cross because he won't play. no, sir, they never get cross. if anything, they think just a little bit more of striped chipmunk because he won't play. you see, they know that the reason he won't play is because he has work to do, and striped chipmunk believes and says: "when there is work for me to do the sooner started, sooner through." so every morning they ask him to play, and every morning they laugh when he says he has too much to do. then they rumple up his hair and pull his whiskers and give him last tag and race down to the smiling pool to see grandfather frog and beg him for a story. now grandfather frog is very old and very wise, and he knows all about the days when the world was young. when he is feeling just right, he dearly loves to tell about those long-ago days. one morning the merry little breezes found grandfather frog sitting as usual on his big green lily-pad, and they knew by the way he folded his hands across his white and yellow waistcoat that it was full of foolish green flies. "oh, grandfather frog, please do tell us why it is that striped chipmunk has such beautiful stripes on his coat," begged one of the merry little breezes. "chug-a-rum! they are stripes of honor," replied grandfather frog, in his deep, gruff voice. "honor! oh, how lovely! do tell us about it! please do!" begged the merry little breezes. "chug-a-rum!" began grandfather frog, his big, goggly eyes twinkling. "once upon a time, when the world was young, old mr. chipmunk, the grandfather a thousand times removed of striped chipmunk, lived very much as striped chipmunk does now. he was always very busy, very busy, indeed, and it was always about his own affairs. 'by attending strictly to my own business, i have no time to meddle with the affairs of my neighbors, and so i keep out of trouble,' said old mr. chipmunk," "just what striped chipmunk says now," broke in one of the merry little breezes. "that shows that he is just as wise as was his grandfather a thousand times removed, about whom i am telling you," replied grandfather frog. "old mr. chipmunk wore just a little, plain brown coat. it didn't worry him a bit, not a bit, that his coat was just plain brown. it kept him just as warm as if it were a beautiful red, like that of mr. fox, or handsome black and white, like that of mr. skunk. he was perfectly satisfied with his little plain brown coat and took the best of care of it. "one day as he was hurrying home to dinner, he climbed up on an old stump to look around and make sure that the way was clear. over in a little path in the meadow grass was walking old mr. meadow mouse. he was strolling along as if there was nothing in the world to fear. way back behind him in the same little path, walking very fast but very quietly, was big mr. bob cat. his eyes were yellow, and a hungry look was in them. he didn't see mr. meadow mouse, but he would in a few minutes. mr. chipmunk saw that he would, and that there was no place for mr. meadow mouse to hide. "'humph! i never meddle in other people's affairs, and this is none of my business,' said little mr. chipmunk. "but old mr. meadow mouse was a friend. he thought a great deal of mr. meadow mouse, did little mr. chipmunk. he couldn't bear to think of what would happen to mr. meadow mouse if big mr. bob cat should catch him. then, almost without realizing what he was doing, little mr. chipmunk began to shout at big mr. bob cat and to call him names. of course big mr. bob cat looked up right away and saw little mr. chipmunk sitting on the old stump. his eyes grew yellower and yellower, he drew his lips back from his long, sharp teeth in a very angry way, and his little bob tail twitched and twitched. then, with great leaps, he came straight for the old stump on which little mr. chipmunk was sitting. "little mr. chipmunk didn't wait for him to get there. oh, my, no! he took one good look at those fierce, hungry, yellow eyes and long, cruel teeth, and then he whisked into a hole in the old stump. you see, there wasn't time to go anywhere else. big mr. bob cat found the hole in the stump right away. he snarled when he saw it. you see it was too small, very much too small, for him to get into himself. but he could get one hand and arm in, and he did, feeling all around inside for little mr. chipmunk. little mr. chipmunk was frightened almost to death. yes, sir, he was frightened almost to death. he made himself just as flat as he could on the bottom of the hollow and held his breath. "'you'd better come out of there, mr. chipmunk, or i'll pull you out!' snarled mr. bob cat. "little mr. chipmunk just snuggled down flatter than ever and didn't say a word. mr. bob cat felt round and round inside the hollow stump and raked his long claws on the sides until little mr. chipmunk's hair fairly stood up. yes, sir, it stood right up on end, he was so scared. when it did that, it tickled the claws of mr. bob cat. mr. bob cat grinned. it was an ugly grin to see. then he reached in a little farther and made a grab for little mr. chipmunk. his wide-spread, sharp claws caught in little mr. chipmunk's coat near the neck and tore little strips the whole length of it. "of course little mr. chipmunk squealed with pain, for those claws hurt dreadfully, but he was glad that his coat tore. if it hadn't, mr. bob cat would surely have pulled him out. after a long time, mr. bob cat gave up and went off, growling and snarling. when he thought it was safe, little mr. chipmunk crawled out of the old stump and hurried home. he ached and smarted terribly, and his little plain brown coat was torn in long strips. "'this is what i get for meddling in the affairs of other folks!' said little mr. chipmunk bitterly. 'if i'd just minded my own business, it wouldn't have happened.' "just then he happened to look over to the house of mr. meadow mouse. there was mr. meadow mouse playing with his children. he didn't know a thing about what his neighbor, little mr. chipmunk, had done for him, for you remember he hadn't seen mr. bob cat at all. little mr. chipmunk grinned as well as he could for the pain. "'i'm glad i did it,' he muttered. 'yes, sir, i'm glad i did it, and i'm glad that neighbor meadow mouse doesn't know about it. i'm glad that nobody knows about it. 'a kindly deed's most kindly done in secret wrought, and seen of none. and so i'm glad that no one knows.' "now just imagine how surprised little mr. chipmunk was, when in the fall it came time to put on a new coat, to have old mother nature hand him out a beautiful striped coat instead of the little plain brown coat he had expected. old mother nature's eyes twinkled as she said: "'there's a stripe for every tear made in your old coat by the claws of mr. bob cat the day you saved mr. meadow mouse. they are honor stripes, and hereafter you and your children and your children's children shall always wear stripes.' "and that is how it happens that striped chipmunk comes by his striped coat, and why he is so proud of it, and takes such good care of it," concluded grandfather frog. ii why peter rabbit cannot fold his hands happy jack squirrel sat with his hands folded across his white waistcoat. he is very fond of sitting with his hands folded that way. a little way from him sat peter rabbit. peter was sitting up very straight, but his hands dropped right down in front. happy jack noticed it. "why don't you fold your hands the way i do, peter rabbit?" shouted happy jack. "i--i--don't want to," stammered peter. "you mean you can't!" jeered happy jack. peter pretended not to hear, and a few minutes later he hopped away towards the dear old briar-patch, lipperty-lipperty-lip. happy jack watched him go, and there was a puzzled look in happy jack's eyes. "i really believe he can't fold his hands," said happy jack to himself, but speaking aloud. "he can't, and none of his family can," said a gruff voice. happy jack turned to find old mr. toad sitting in the lone little path. "why not?" asked happy jack. "ask grandfather frog; he knows," replied old mr. toad, and started on about his business. and this is how it happens that grandfather frog told this story to the little meadow and forest people gathered around him on the bank of the smiling pool. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog. "old mr. rabbit, the grandfather a thousand times removed of peter rabbit, was always getting into trouble. yes, sir, old mr. rabbit was always getting into trouble. seemed like he wouldn't be happy if he couldn't get into trouble. it was all because he was so dreadfully curious about other people's business, just as peter rabbit is now. it seemed that he was just born to be curious and so, of course, to get into trouble. "one day word came to the green forest and to the green meadows that old mother nature was coming to see how all the little meadow and forest people were getting along, to settle all the little troubles and fusses between them, and to find out who were and who were not obeying the orders she had given them when she had visited them last. my, my, my, such a hurrying and scurrying and worrying as there was! you see, everybody wanted to look his best when old mother nature arrived, yes, sir, everybody wanted to look his best. "there was the greatest changing of clothes you ever did see. old king bear put on his blackest coat. mr. coon and mr. mink and mr. otter sat up half the night brushing their suits and making them look as fine and handsome as they could. even old mr. toad put on a new suit under his old one, and planned to pull the old one off and throw it away as soon as old mother nature should arrive. then everybody began to fix up their homes and make them as neat and nice as they knew how--everybody but mr. rabbit. "now mr. rabbit was lazy. he didn't like to work any more than peter rabbit does now. no, sir, old mr. rabbit was afraid of work. the very sight of work scared old mr. rabbit. you see, he was so busy minding other people's business that he didn't have time to attend to his own. so his brown and gray coat always was rumpled and tumbled and dirty. his house was a tumble-down affair in which no one but mr. rabbit would ever have thought of living, and his garden--oh, dear me, such a garden you never did see! it was all weeds and brambles. they filled up the yard, and old mr. rabbit actually couldn't have gotten into his own house if he hadn't cut a path through the brambles. "now when old mr. rabbit heard that old mother nature was coming, his heart sank way, way down, for he knew just how angry she would be when she saw his house, his garden and his shabby suit. "'oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall i do?' wailed mr. rabbit, wringing his hands. "'get busy and clean up,' advised mr. woodchuck, hurrying about his own work. "now mr. woodchuck was a worker and very, very neat. he meant to have his home looking just as fine as he could make it. he brought up some clean yellow sand from deep down in the ground and sprinkled it smoothly over his doorstep. "'i'll help you, if i get through my own work in time,' shouted mr. woodchuck over his shoulder. "that gave mr. rabbit an idea. he would ask all his neighbors to help him, and perhaps then he could get his house and garden in order by the time old mother nature arrived. so mr. rabbit called on mr. skunk and mr. coon and mr. mink and mr. squirrel and mr. chipmunk, and all the rest of his neighbors, telling them of his trouble and asking them to help. now, in spite of the trouble mr. rabbit was forever making for other people by his dreadful curiosity and meddling with other people's affairs, all his neighbors had a warm place in their hearts for mr. rabbit, and they all promised that they would help him as soon as they had their own work finished. "instead of hurrying home and getting to work himself, mr. rabbit stopped a while after each call and sat with his arms folded, watching the one he was calling on work. mr. rabbit was very fond of sitting with folded arms. it was very comfortable. but this was no time to be doing it, and mr. skunk told him so. "'if you want the rest of us to help you, you'd better get things started yourself,' said old mr. skunk, carefully combing out his big, plumy tail. "'that's right, mr. skunk! that's right!' said mr. rabbit, starting along briskly, just as if he was going to hurry right home and begin work that very instant. "but half an hour later, when mr. skunk happened to pass the home of mr. chipmunk, there sat mr. rabbit with his arms folded, watching mr. chipmunk hurrying about as only mr. chipmunk can. "finally mr. rabbit had made the round of all his friends and neighbors, and he once more reached his tumble-down house. 'oh, dear,' sighed mr. rabbit, as he looked at the tangle of brambles which almost hid the little old house, 'i never, never can clear away all this! it will be a lot easier to work when all my friends are here to help,' so he sighed once more and folded his arms, instead of beginning work as he should have done. and then, because the sun was bright and warm, and he was very, very comfortable, old mr. rabbit began to nod, and presently he was fast asleep. "now old mother nature likes to take people by surprise, and it happened that she chose this very day to make her promised visit. she was greatly pleased with all she saw as she went along, until she came to the home of mr. rabbit. "'mercy me!' exclaimed old mother nature, throwing up her hands as she saw the tumble-down house almost hidden by the brambles and weeds. 'can it be possible that any one really lives here?' then, peering through the tangle of brambles, she spied old mr. rabbit sitting on his broken-down doorstep with his arms folded and fast asleep. "at first she was very indignant, oh, very indignant, indeed! she decided that mr. rabbit should be punished very severely. but as she watched him sitting there, dreaming in the warm sunshine, her anger began to melt away. the fact is, old mother nature was like all the rest of mr. rabbit's neighbors--she just couldn't help loving happy-go-lucky mr. rabbit in spite of all his faults. with a long stick she reached in and tickled the end of his nose. "mr. rabbit sneezed, and this made him wake up. he yawned and blinked, and then his eyes suddenly flew wide open with fright. he had discovered old mother nature frowning at him. she pointed a long forefinger at him and said: 'in every single blessed day there's time for work and time for play. who folds his arms with work undone doth cheat himself and spoil his fun.' "'hereafter, mr. rabbit, you and your children and your children's children will never again be able to sit with folded arms until you or they have learned to work.' "and that is why peter rabbit cannot fold his arms and still lives in a tumble-down house among the brambles," concluded grandfather frog. iii why unc' billy possum plays dead one thing puzzled peter rabbit and johnny chuck and striped chipmunk a great deal after they had come to know unc' billy possum and his funny ways. they had talked it over and wondered and wondered about it, and tried to understand it, and even had asked unc' billy about it. unc' billy had just grinned and said that they would have to ask his mammy. of course they couldn't do that, and unc' billy knew they couldn't, for unc' billy's mammy had died long before he even thought of coming up from ol' virginny to the green forest and the green meadows where they lived. he said it just to tease them, and when he said it, he chuckled until they chuckled too, just as if it really were the best kind of a joke. now you know it always is the thing that you try and try to find out and can't find out that you most want to find out. it was just so with peter rabbit and johnny chuck and striped chipmunk. the more they talked about it, the more they wanted to know. why was it that unc' billy possum played dead instead of trying to run away when he was surprised by his enemies? they always tried to run away. so did everybody else of their acquaintance excepting unc' billy possum. "there must be a reason" said peter gravely, as he pulled thoughtfully at one of his long ears. "of course there is a reason," asserted johnny chuck, chewing the end of a blade of grass. "there's a reason for everything," added striped chipmunk, combing out the hair of his funny little tail. "then of course grandfather frog knows it," said peter. "of course! why didn't we think of him before?" exclaimed the others. "i'll beat you to the smiling pool!" shouted peter. of course he did, for his legs are long and made for running, but striped chipmunk was not far behind. johnny chuck took his time, for he knew that he could not keep up with the others. besides he was so fat that to run made him puff and blow. grandfather frog sat just as usual on his big green lily-pad, and he grinned when he saw who his visitors were, for he guessed right away what they had come for. "chug-a-rum! what is it you want to know now?" he demanded, before peter could fairly get his breath. "if you please, grandfather frog, we want to know why it is that unc' billy possum plays dead," replied peter as politely as he knew how. grandfather frog chuckled. "just to fool people, stupid!" said he. "of course we know that," replied striped chipmunk, "but what we want to know is how he ever found out that he could fool people that way, and how he knows that he will fool them." "i suspect that his mammy taught him," said grandfather frog, with another chuckle way down deep in his throat. "but who taught his mammy?" persisted striped chipmunk. grandfather frog snapped at a foolish green fly, and when it was safely tucked away inside his white and yellow waistcoat, he turned once more to his three little visitors, and there was a twinkle in his big, goggly eyes. "i see," said he, "that you _will_ have a story, and i suppose that the sooner i tell it to you, the sooner you will leave me in peace. unc' billy possum's grandfather a thousand times removed was--" "was this way back in the days when the world was young?" interrupted peter. grandfather frog scowled at peter. "if i have any more interruptions, there will be no story to-day" said he severely. peter looked ashamed and promised that he would hold his tongue right between his teeth until grandfather frog was through. grandfather frog cleared his throat and began again. "unc' billy possum's grandfather a thousand times removed was very much as unc' billy is now, only he was a little more spry and knew better than to stuff himself so full that he couldn't run. he was always very sly, and he played a great many tricks on his neighbors, and sometimes he got them into trouble. but when he did, he always managed to keep out of their way until they had forgotten all about their anger. "one morning the very imp of mischief seemed to get into old mr. possum's head. yes, sir, it certainly did seem that way. and when you see mischief trotting along the lone little path, if you look sharp enough, you'll see trouble following at his heels like a shadow. i never knew it to fail. it's just as sure as a stomach-ache is to follow overeating." just here grandfather frog paused and looked very hard at peter rabbit. but peter pretended not to notice, and after slowly winking one of his big, goggly eyes at johnny chuck, grandfather frog continued: "anyway, as i said before, the imp of mischief seemed to be in old mr. possum's head that morning, for he began to play tricks on his neighbors as soon as they were out of bed. he hid old king bear's breakfast, while the latter had his head turned, and then pretended that he had just come along. he was very polite and offered to help old king bear hunt for his lost breakfast. then, whenever old king bear came near the place where it was hidden, old mr. possum would hide it somewhere else. old king bear was hungry, and he worked himself up into a terrible rage, for he was in a hurry for his breakfast. old mr. possum was very sympathetic and seemed to be doing his very best to find the lost meal. at last old king bear turned his head suddenly and caught sight of old mr. possum hiding that breakfast in a new place. my, my, but his temper did boil over! it certainly did. and if he could have laid hands on old mr. possum that minute, it surely would have been the end of him. "but old mr. possum was mighty spry, and he went off through the green forest laughing fit to kill himself. pretty soon he met mr. panther. he was very polite to mr. panther. he told him that he had just come from a call on old king bear, and hinted that old king bear was then enjoying a feast and that there might be enough for mr. panther, if he hurried up there at once. "now, mr. panther was hungry, for he had found nothing for his breakfast that morning. so he thanked old mr. possum and hurried away to find old king bear and share in the good things old mr. possum had told about. "old mr. possum himself hurried on, chuckling as he thought of the way mr. panther was likely to be received, with old king bear in such a temper. pretty soon along came mr. lynx. old mr. possum told him the same story he had told mr. panther, and mr. lynx went bounding off in a terrible hurry, for fear that he would not be in time to share in that good breakfast. it was such a good joke that old mr. possum tried it on mr. wolf and mr. fisher and mr. fox. in fact, he hunted up every one he could think of and sent them to call on old king bear, and without really telling them so, he made each one think that he would get a share in that breakfast." "now, there wasn't any more breakfast than old king bear wanted himself, and by the time mr. panther arrived, there wasn't so much as a crumb left. then, one after another, the others came dropping in, each licking his chops, and all very polite to old king bear. at first he didn't know what to make of it, but pretty soon mr. fox delicately hinted that they had come in response to the invitation sent by mr. possum, and that as they were all very hungry, they would like to know when the feast would be ready. right away old king bear knew that old mr. possum had been up to some of his tricks, and he told his visitors that they were the victims of a practical joke. [illustration: "as they were all very hungry, they would like to know when the feast would be ready."] "my, my, my, how angry everybody grew! with old king bear at their head, they started out to hunt for old mr. possum. when he saw them coming, he realized that what he had thought was a joke had become no longer a laughing matter for him. he was too frightened to run, so he scrambled up a tree. he quite forgot that mr. panther and mr. lynx could climb just as fast as he. up the tree after him they scrambled, and he crept as far out as he could get on one of the branches. mr. panther didn't dare go out there, so he just shook the branch. he shook and shook and shook and shook, and the first thing old mr. possum knew, he was flying through the air down to where the others were all ready to pounce on him. "old mr. possum was frightened almost to death. he shut his eyes, and then he landed with a thump that knocked all the wind from his body. when he got his breath again, he still kept his eyes closed, for he couldn't bear the thought of looking at the cruel teeth and claws of old king bear and the others. presently, while he was wondering why they didn't jump on him and tear him to pieces, old king bear spoke: "'i guess mr. possum won't play any more jokes, mr. panther,' said he. 'you just knocked the life out of him when you shook him off that branch.' "mr. panther came over and sniffed at mr. possum and turned him over with one paw. all the time mr. possum lay just as if he were dead, because he was too frightened to move. 'i didn't mean to kill him,' said mr. panther. 'we certainly will miss him. what will we do with him?' "'leave him here as a warning to others,' growled old king bear. "each in turn came up and sniffed of mr. possum, and then they all went about their business. he waited long enough to make sure that they were out of sight, and then took the shortest way home. when he got there and thought it all over, he thought that the best joke of all was the way he had made everybody think that he was dead. and then a bright idea struck him: he would try the same trick whenever he was caught. so the next time he got in trouble, instead of running away, he tried playing dead. it was such a success that he taught his children how to do it, and they taught their children, and so on down to unc' billy, whom you know. unc' billy says it is a lot easier than running away, and safer, too. besides, it is always such a joke. now, don't bother me any more, for i want to take a nap," concluded grandfather frog. "thank you!" cried peter rabbit and johnny chuck and striped chipmunk, and started off to hunt up unc' billy possum. iv why reddy fox wears red peter rabbit sat in the middle of the dear old briar-patch making faces and laughing at reddy fox. of course that wasn't a nice thing to do, not a bit nice. but peter had just had a narrow escape, a very narrow escape, for reddy fox had sprung out from behind a bush as peter came down the lone little path, and had so nearly caught peter that he had actually pulled some fur out of peter's coat. now peter was safe in the dear old briar-patch. he was a little out of breath, because he had had to use his long legs as fast as he knew how, but he was safe. you see, reddy fox wouldn't run the risk of tearing his handsome red coat on the brambles. besides, they scratched terribly. "never mind, peter rabbit, i'll get you yet!" snarled reddy, as he gave up and started back for the green forest. "reddy fox is very sly! reddy fox is very spry! but sly and spry, 'tis vain to try to be as sly and spry as i." when peter rabbit shouted this, reddy looked back and showed all his teeth, but peter only laughed, and reddy trotted on. peter watched him out of sight. "my! i wish i had such a handsome coat," he said, with a long sigh, for you know peter's coat is very plain, very plain, indeed. "you wouldn't, if you had to wear it for the same reason that reddy fox has to wear his. a good heart and honest ways are better than fine clothes, peter rabbit." peter looked up. there was saucy, pert, little jenny wren fussing around in one of the old bramble bushes. "hello, jenny!" said peter. "why does reddy wear a red coat?" "do you mean to say that you don't know?" jenny wren looked very hard at peter with her sharp eyes. "i thought everybody knew that! you certainly are slow, peter rabbit. i haven't time to tell you about it now. go ask grandfather frog; he knows all about it." jenny wren bustled off before peter could find his tongue. now, you all know how full of curiosity peter rabbit is. jenny wren's busy tongue had set that curiosity fairly boiling over. he just couldn't sit still for wondering and wondering why reddy fox wears a red coat. he had never thought anything about it before, but now he couldn't get it out of his head. he just _had_ to know. so, making sure that reddy fox had disappeared in the green forest, peter started for the smiling pool, lipperty-lipperty-lip, as fast as he could go. there he found grandfather frog setting on his big green lily-pad, just as usual. "if you please, grandfather frog, why does reddy fox wear a red coat?" panted peter, quite out of breath. "chug-a-rum!" grunted grandfather frog crossly. "don't you know that it is very impolite to disturb people when they are having a nap?" "i--i'm very sorry. indeed i am, grandfather frog," said peter very humbly. "will you tell me if i come again some time when you are not so sleepy?" now, like everybody else, grandfather frog is rather fond of peter rabbit, and now peter looked so truly sorry, and at the same time there was such a look of disappointment in peter's eyes, that grandfather frog forgot all about his crossness. "chug-a-rum!" said he. "you and your questions are a nuisance, peter rabbit, and i may as well get rid of you now as to have you keep coming down here and pestering me to death. besides, any one who has to keep such a sharp watch for reddy fox as you do ought to know why he wears a red coat. if you'll promise to sit perfectly still and ask no foolish questions, i'll tell you the story." of course peter promised, and settled himself comfortably to listen. and this is the story that grandfather frog told: "a long time ago, when the world was young, old mr. fox, the grandfather a thousand times removed of reddy fox, was one of the smartest of all the forest and meadow people, just as reddy is now. he was so smart that he knew enough not to appear smart, and the fact is his neighbors thought him rather dull. he wore just a common, everyday suit of dull brown, like most of the others, and there wasn't anything about him to attract attention. he was always very polite, very polite indeed, to every one. yes, sir, mr. fox was very polite. he always seemed to be minding his own business, and he never went around asking foolish questions or poking his nose into other people's affairs." grandfather frog stopped a minute and looked very hard at peter after he said this, and peter looked uncomfortable. "now, although mr. fox didn't appear to take any interest in other people's affairs and never asked questions, he had two of the sharpest ears among all the little meadow and forest people, and while he was going about seeming to be just minding his own business, he was listening and listening to all that was said. everything he heard he remembered, so that it wasn't long before he knew more about what was going on than all his neighbors together. but he kept his mouth tight closed, did mr. fox, and was very humble and polite to everybody. every night he came home early and went to bed by sundown, and everybody said what good habits mr. fox had. "but when everybody else was asleep, mr. fox used to steal out and be gone half the night. yes, sir, sometimes he'd be gone until almost morning. but he always took care to get home before any of his neighbors were awake, and then he'd wait until everybody was up before he showed himself. when he came out and started to hunt for his breakfast, some one was sure to tell him of mischief done during the darkness of the night. sometimes it was a storehouse broken into, and the best things taken. sometimes it was of terrible frights that some of the littlest people had received by being wakened in the night and seeing a fierce face with long, sharp teeth grinning at them. sometimes it was of worse things that were told in whispers. mr. fox used to listen as if very much shocked, and say that something ought to be done about it, and wonder who it could be who would do such dreadful things. "by and by things got so bad that they reached the ears of old mother nature, and she came to find out what it all meant. now, the very night before she arrived, mrs. quack, who lived on the river bank, had a terrible fright. somebody sprang upon her as she was sleeping, and in the struggle she lost all her tail feathers. she hurried to tell old mother nature all about it, and big tears rolled down her cheeks as she told how she had lost all her beautiful tail feathers. mother nature called all the people of the forest and the meadows together. she made them all pass before her, and she looked sharply at each one as they went by. mr. fox looked meeker than ever, and he was very humble and polite. "now when mr. fox had paid his respects and turned his back, old mother nature saw something red on the tail of his coat. it was nothing but a little smear of red clay, but that was enough for old mother nature. you see, she knew that mrs. quack's home was right at the foot of a red claybank. she didn't say a word until everybody had paid their respects and passed before her. then she told them how grieved she was to hear of all the trouble there had been, but that she couldn't watch over each one all the time; they must learn to watch out for themselves. "and so that you may know who to watch out for, from now on never trust the one who wears a bright red coat," concluded old mother nature. "all of a sudden mr. fox became aware that everybody was looking at him, and in every face was hate. he glanced at his coat. it was bright red! then mr. fox knew that he had been found out, and he sneaked away with his tail between his legs. the first chance he got, he went to old mother nature and begged her to give him back his old coat. she promised that she would when his heart changed, and he changed his ways. but his heart never did change, and his children and his children's children were just like him. they have always been the smartest and the sliest and the most feared and disliked of all the little people on the meadows or in the forest. and now you know why reddy fox wears a red coat," concluded grandfather frog. peter rabbit drew a long breath. "thank you, thank you, grandfather frog!" said he. "i--i think hereafter i'll be quite content with my own suit, even if it isn't handsome. jenny wren was right. a good heart and honest ways are better than fine clothes." v why jimmy skunk never hurries the merry little breezes of old mother west wind had just been released from the big bag in which she carries them every night to their home behind the purple hills and every morning brings them back to the green meadows to romp and play all day. they romped and raced and danced away, some one way, some another, to see whom they could find to play with. presently some of them spied jimmy skunk slowly ambling down the crooked little path, stopping every few steps to pull over a loose stone or stick. they knew what he was doing that for. they knew that he was looking for fat beetles for his breakfast. they danced over to him and formed a ring around him while they sang: "who is it never, never hurries? who is it never, never worries? who is it does just what he pleases, just like us merry little breezes? jimmy skunk! jimmy skunk!" now not so far away but that he could hear them very plainly sat peter rabbit, just finishing his breakfast in a sweet-clover patch. he sat up very straight, so as to hear better. of course some of the merry little breezes saw him right away. they left jimmy to come over and dance in a circle around peter, for peter is a great favorite with them. and as they danced they sang: "who is it hops and skips and jumps? who is it sometimes loudly thumps? who is it dearly loves to play, but when there's danger runs away? peter rabbit! peter rabbit!" peter grinned good-naturedly. he is quite used to being laughed at for always running away, and he doesn't mind it in the least. "when danger's near, who runs away will live to run another day," retorted peter promptly. then he began the maddest kind of a frolic with the merry little breezes until they and he were quite tired out and ready for a good rest. "i wish," said peter, as he stretched himself out in the middle of the patch of sweet clover, "that you would tell me why it is that jimmy skunk never hurries." "and we wish that you would tell us the same thing," cried one of the merry little breezes. "but i can't," protested peter. "everybody else seems to hurry, at times anyway, but jimmy never does. he says it is a waste of energy, whatever that means." "i tell you what--let's go over to the smiling pool and ask grandfather frog about it now. he'll be sure to know," spoke up one of the merry little breezes. "all right," replied peter, hopping to his feet. "but you'll have to ask him. i've asked him for so many stories that i don't dare ask for another right away, for fear that he will say that i am a nuisance." so it was agreed that the merry little breezes should ask grandfather frog why it is that jimmy skunk never hurries, and that peter should keep out of sight until grandfather frog had begun the story, for they were sure that there would be a story. away they all hurried to the smiling pool. the merry little breezes raced so hard that they were quite out of breath when they burst through the bulrushes and surrounded grandfather frog, as he sat on his big green lily-pad. "oh, grandfather frog, why is it that jimmy skunk never hurries?" they panted. "chug-a-rum!" replied grandfather frog in his deepest, gruffest voice. "chug-a-rum! probably because he has learned better." "oh!" said one of the merry little breezes, in a rather faint, disappointed sort of voice. just then he spied a fat, foolish, green fly and blew it right over to grandfather frog, who snapped it up in a flash. right away all the merry little breezes began to hunt for foolish green flies and blow them over to grandfather frog, until he didn't have room for another one inside his white and yellow waistcoat. indeed the legs of the last one he tried to swallow stuck out of one corner of his big mouth. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog, trying very hard to get those legs out of sight. "chug-a-rum! i always like to do something for those who do something for me, and i suppose now that i ought to tell you why it is that jimmy skunk never hurries. i would, if peter rabbit were here. if i tell you the story, peter will be sure to hear of it, and then he will give me no peace until i tell it to him, and i don't like to tell stories twice." "but he is here!" cried one of the little breezes. "he's right over behind that little clump of tall grass." "humph! i thought he wasn't very far away," grunted grandfather frog, with a twinkle in his great, goggly eyes. peter crept out of his hiding-place, looking rather shamefaced and very foolish. then the merry little breezes settled themselves on the lily-pads in a big circle around grandfather frog, and peter sat down as close to the edge of the bank of the smiling pool as he dared to get. after what seemed to them a very long time, grandfather frog swallowed the legs of the last foolish green fly, opened his big mouth, and began: "of course you all know that long, long ago, when the world was young, things were very different from what they are now, very different indeed. the great-great-ever-so-great grandfather of jimmy skunk was slimmer and trimmer than jimmy is. he was more like his cousins, mr. weasel and mr. mink. he was just as quick moving as they were. yes, sir, mr. skunk was very lively on his feet. he had to be to keep out of the way of his big neighbors, for in those days he didn't have any means of protecting himself, as jimmy has now. he was dressed all in black. you know it wasn't until old mother nature found out that he was taking advantage of that black suit to get into mischief on dark nights that she gave him white stripes, so that the darker the night, the harder it would be for him to keep from being seen. "now mr. skunk was very smart and shrewd, oh, very! when the hard times came, which made so many changes in the lives of the people who lived in the green forest and on the green meadows, mr. skunk was very quick to see that unless he could think of some way to protect himself, it was only a matter of time when he would furnish a dinner for one of his fierce big neighbors, and of course mr. skunk had no desire to do that. it was then that he asked old mother nature to give him a bag of perfume so strong that it would make everybody ill but himself. mother nature thought it all over, and then she did, but she made him promise that he would never use it unless he was in great danger. "mr. skunk had to try his new defence only once or twice before his enemies took the greatest care to let him alone. he found that he no longer had to run for a safe hiding-place when he met mr. wolf or mr. lynx or mr. panther. they just snarled at him and passed without offering to touch him. so mr. skunk grew very independent and went where he pleased when he pleased. and, because he no longer had to run from his enemies, he got out of the habit of running. then he made a discovery. he watched those of his neighbors who were forever hurrying about looking for food, hurrying because all the time there was great fear upon them that an enemy might be near, hurrying because each was fearful that his neighbor would get more than he. it wasn't long before mr. skunk saw that in their hurry they overlooked a great deal. in fact, by just following after them slowly, he found all he wanted to eat. "so mr. skunk began to grow fat. his neighbors, who were having hard work to make a living, grew envious, and said unkind things about him, and hinted that he must be stealing, or he never could have so much to eat. but mr. skunk didn't mind. he went right on about his business. he never worried, because, you know, he feared nobody. and he never hurried, because he found that it paid best to go slowly. in that way he never missed any of the good things that his hurrying, worrying neighbors did. so he grew fatter and fatter, while others grew thinner. after a while he almost forgot how to run. being fat and never hurrying or worrying made him good-natured. he kept right on minding his own affairs and never meddling in the affairs of others, so that by and by his neighbors began to respect him. "of course he taught his children to do as he did, and they taught their children. and so, ever since that long-ago day, when the world was young, that little bag of perfume has been handed down in the skunk family, and none of them has ever been afraid. now you know why jimmy skunk, whom you all know, is so independent and never hurries." "thank you! thank you, grandfather frog!" cried the merry little breezes. "when you want some more foolish green flies, just let us know, and we'll get them for you." "chug-a-rum! what are you looking so wistful for, peter rabbit?" demanded grandfather frog. "i--i was just wishing that i had a--" began peter. then suddenly he made a face. "no, i don't either!" he declared. "i guess i'd better be getting home to the dear old briar-patch now. mrs. peter probably thinks something has happened to me." and away he went, lipperty-lipperty-lip. vi why sammy jay has a fine coat sammy jay has a very fine coat, a very beautiful coat. everybody knows that. in fact, sammy's coat has long been the envy of a great many of his neighbors in the green forest. some of them, you know, have very modest coats. they are not beautiful at all. and yet the owners of some of these plain coats are among the most honest and hard-working of all the little people who live in the green forest. they find it hard, very hard indeed, to understand why such a scamp and mischiefmaker as sammy jay should be given such a wonderful blue coat with white trimmings. peter rabbit often had thought about it. he has a number of feathered friends whom he likes ever so much better than he does sammy jay. in fact, he and sammy are forever falling out, because sammy delights to tease peter. he sometimes makes up for it by warning peter when granny or reddy fox happens to be about, and peter is honest enough to recognize this and put it to sammy's credit. but in spite of this, it never seemed to him quite right that sammy jay should be so handsomely dressed. "of course," said peter to grandfather frog, "old mother nature knows a great deal more than i do--" "really! you don't mean to say so! chug-a-rum! you don't mean to say so, peter!" interrupted grandfather frog, pretending to be very much surprised at what peter said. [illustration: "you don't mean to say so, peter," interrupted grandfather frog.] peter grinned and wrinkled his nose at grandfather frog. "yes," said he, "old mother nature knows a great deal more than i do, but it seems to me as if she had made a mistake in giving sammy jay such a handsome coat. there must be a reason, i suppose, but for the life of me i cannot understand it. i should think that she would give such a thief as sammy jay the very homeliest suit she could find. you may depend i would, if i were in her place." grandfather frog chuckled until he shook all over. "it's lucky for some of us that you are not in her place!" said he. "chug-a-rum! it certainly is lucky!" "if i were, i would give you a handsome coat, too, grandfather frog," replied peter. grandfather frog suddenly swelled out with indignation. "chug-a-rum! chug-a-rum! what's the matter with the coat i have got, peter rabbit? tell me that! who's got a handsomer one?" grandfather frog glared with his great, goggly eyes at peter. "i didn't mean to say that you haven't got a handsome coat. your coat _is_ handsome, very handsome indeed, grandfather frog," peter hastened to say. "i always did like green. i just love it! and i should think you would be ever so proud of your white and yellow waistcoat. i would if it were mine. what i meant to say is, that if i were in old mother nature's place, i would give some plain folks handsome suits. certainly, i wouldn't give such a rascal as sammy jay one of the handsomest coats in all the green forest. knowing sammy as well as i do, it is hard work to believe that he came by it honestly." grandfather frog chuckled way down deep in his throat. "sammy came by it honestly enough, peter. yes, sir, he came by it honestly enough, because it was handed down to him by his father, who got it from his father, who got it from his father, and so on, way back to the days when the world was young, but--" grandfather frog paused, and that dreamy, far-away look which peter had seen so often came into his great, goggly eyes. "but what, grandfather frog?" asked peter eagerly, when he could keep still no longer. grandfather frog settled himself comfortably on his big green lily-pad and looked very hard at peter. "i'm going to tell you a story, peter rabbit," said he, "so that never again will you be led to doubt that old mother nature knows exactly what she is about. in the first place, sammy jay is not wholly to blame for all his bad habits. some of them were handed down to him with his fine coat, just the same as your troublesome curiosity was handed down to you with the white patch on the seat of your trousers." peter nodded. he had felt a great many times that he just couldn't help this habit of poking that wobbly little nose of his in where it had no business to be, any more than he could change that funny little bunch of white cotton, which he called a tail, for a really, truly tail. "of course, you have heard all about what a very fine gentleman sammy jay's great-great-ever-so-great grandfather was thought to be until it was discovered that he was all the time stealing from his neighbors and putting the blame on others, and how old mother nature punished him by taking away the beautiful voice of which he was so proud, and giving him instead the harsh voice which sammy has now, and making him tell just what he is by screaming 'thief, thief, thief!' every time he opens his mouth to speak. "at first old mother nature had intended to take away the fine coat of which mr. jay was so proud, but when he discovered that he had lost his fine voice, he was so ashamed that he hurried away to hide himself from the eyes of his neighbors, so that old mother nature didn't have time to change his coat just then. 'i'll wait a bit,' said she to herself, 'and see how he behaves. perhaps he is truly sorry for what he has done, and i will not have to punish him more.' "but if mr. jay was truly sorry, he gave no signs of it. you see, he had cheated his neighbors, and had stolen from them for so long, that he found this the easiest way to get a living. his bad habits had become fixed, as bad habits have a way of doing. besides, right down in his heart, he wasn't sorry for what he had done, only angry at having been found out. now that he had been found out, of course every one was on the watch for him, and it wasn't so easy to steal as it had been before. so now, instead of going about openly, with his head held high, he grew very crafty, and sneaked quietly about through the green forest, trying to keep out of sight, that he might the easier steal from his neighbors and make trouble for them. "when old mother nature saw this, she changed her mind about taking away his handsome suit. 'if i do that,' thought she, 'it will make it all the easier for him to keep out of sight, and all the harder for his neighbors to know when he is about.' "so instead of giving him the plain, homely suit that she had thought of giving him, she made his coat of blue brighter than before and trimmed it with the whitest of white trimmings, so that mr. jay had one of the very handsomest coats in all the green forest. at first he was very proud of it, but it wasn't long before he found that it was very hard work to keep out of sight when he wanted to. that bright blue coat was forever giving him away when he was out on mischief. everybody was all the time on the watch for it, and so where in the past mr. jay had been able, without any trouble, to steal all he wanted to eat, now he sometimes actually had to work for his food, and get it honestly or else go hungry. "you would suppose that he would have mended him ways, wouldn't you?" peter nodded. "but he didn't. he grew more sly and crafty than ever. but in spite of this, he didn't begin to make as much trouble as before. he couldn't, you know, because of his bright coat. when old mother nature found that mr. jay had passed along his bad habits to his children, she passed along his handsome blue coat, too, and so it has been from that long-ago day right down to this. sammy jay's fine coat isn't a reward for goodness, as is winsome bluebird's, but is to help the other little people of the green forest and the green meadows to protect themselves, and keep track of sammy when he is sneaking and snooping around looking for mischief. now what do you think, peter rabbit?" peter scratched one long ear and then the other long ear thoughtfully, and he looked a wee bit ashamed as he replied: "i guess old mother nature makes no mistakes and always knows just what she is doing." "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog in his deepest voice. "you may be sure she does. and another thing, peter rabbit: never judge any one by his clothes. it is a great mistake, a very great mistake. plain clothes sometimes cover the kindest hearts, and fine clothes often are a warning to beware of mischief." "i--i don't know but you are right," admitted peter. "i know i am," said grandfather frog. vii why jerry muskrat builds his house in the water peter rabbit and johnny chuck had gone down to the smiling pool for a call on their old friend, jerry muskrat. but jerry was nowhere to be seen. they waited and waited, but no jerry muskrat. "probably he is taking a nap in that big house of his," said johnny chuck, "and if he is we'll have to sit here until he wakes up, or else go back home and visit him some other time." "that's so," replied peter. "i don't see what he has his house in the water for, anyway. if he had built it on land, like sensible people, we might be able to waken him. funny place to build a house, isn't it?" johnny chuck scratched his head thoughtfully. "it does seem a funny place," he admitted. "it certainly does seem a funny place. but then, jerry muskrat is a funny fellow. you know how much of the time he stays in the water. that seems funny to me. i suppose there is a reason for it, and probably there is a reason for building his house where it is. i've found that there is a reason for most things. probably jerry's great-great-grandfather built his house that way, and so jerry does the same thing." peter rabbit suddenly brightened up. "i do believe you are right, johnny chuck, and if you are, there must be a story about it, and if there is a story, grandfather frog will be sure to know it. there he is, over on his big green lily-pad, and he looks as if he might be feeling very good-natured this morning. let's go ask him why jerry muskrat builds his house in the water." grandfather frog saw them coming, and he guessed right away that they were coming for a story. he grinned to himself and pretended to go to sleep. "good morning, grandfather frog," said johnny chuck. grandfather frog didn't answer. johnny tried again, and still no reply. "he's asleep," said johnny, looking dreadfully disappointed, "and i guess we'd better not disturb him, for he might wake up cross, and of course we wouldn't get a story if he did." peter looked at grandfather frog sharply. he wasn't so sure that that was a real nap. it seemed to him that there was just the least little hint of a smile in the corners of grandfather frog's big mouth. "you sit here a minute," he whispered in johnny chuck's ear. so johnny chuck sat down where he was, which was right where grandfather frog could see him by lifting one eyelid just the teeniest bit, and peter hopped along the bank until he was right behind grandfather frog. now just at that place on the bank was growing a toadstool. peter looked over at johnny chuck and winked. then he turned around, and with one of his long hind-feet, he kicked the toadstool with all his might. now toadstools, as you all know, are not very well fastened at the roots, and this one was no different from the rest. when peter kicked it it flew out into the air and landed with a great splash in the smiling pool, close beside the big green lily-pad on which grandfather frog was sitting. of course he didn't see it coming, and of course it gave him a great start. "chug-a-rum!" exclaimed grandfather frog and dived head first into the water. a minute later peter's sharp eyes saw him peeping out from under a lily-pad to see what had frightened him so. "ha, ha, ha!" shouted peter, dancing about on the bank. "ha, ha, ha! grandfather frog, afraid of a toadstool! ha, ha, ha!" at first grandfather frog was angry, very angry indeed. but he is too old and too wise to lose his temper for long over a joke, especially when he has been fairly caught trying to play a joke himself. so presently he climbed back on to his big green lily-pad, blinking his great, goggly eyes and looking just a wee bit foolish. "chug-a-rum! i might have known that that was some of your work, peter rabbit," said he, "but i thought it surely was a stone thrown by farmer brown's boy. what do you mean by frightening an old fellow like me this way?" "just trying to get even with you for trying to fool us into thinking that you were asleep when you were wide awake," replied peter. "oh, grandfather frog, do tell us why it is that jerry muskrat builds his house in the water. please do!" "i have a mind not to, just to get even with you," said grandfather frog, settling himself comfortably, "but i believe i will, to show you that there are some folks who can take a joke without losing their temper." "goody!" cried peter and johnny chuck together, sitting down side by side on the very edge of the bank. grandfather frog folded his hands across his white and yellow waistcoat and half closed his eyes, as if looking way, way back into the past. "chug-a-rum!" he began. "a long, long time ago, when the world was young, there was very little dry land, and most of the animals lived in the water. yes, sir, most of the animals lived in the water, as sensible animals do to-day." peter nudged johnny chuck. "he means himself and his family," he whispered with a chuckle. "after a time," continued grandfather frog, "there began to be more land and still more. then some of the animals began to spend most of their time on the land. as there got to be more and more land, more and more of the animals left the water, until finally most of them were spending nearly all of the time on land. now old mother nature had been keeping a sharp watch, as she always does, and when she found that they were foolish enough to like the land best, she did all that she could to make things comfortable for them. she taught them how to run and jump and climb and dig, according to which things they liked best to do, so that it wasn't very long before a lot of them forgot that they ever had lived in the water, and they began to look down on those who still lived in the water, and to put on airs and hold their heads very high. "now, of course, old mother nature didn't like this, and to punish them she said that they should no longer be able to live in the water, even if they wanted to. at first they only laughed, but after a while they found that quite often there were times when it would be very nice to be at home in the water as they once had been. but it was of no use. some could swim as long as they could keep their heads above water, but as soon as they put their heads under water they were likely to drown. you know that is the way with you to-day, peter rabbit." peter nodded. he knew that he could swim if he had to, but only for a very little way, and he hated the thought of it. "now there were a few animals, of whom old mr. muskrat, the grandfather a thousand times removed of jerry muskrat, was one, who learned to walk and run on dry land, but who still loved the water," continued grandfather frog. "one day old mother nature found mr. muskrat sitting on a rock, looking very mournful. "'what's the matter, mr. muskrat?' she asked. "mr. muskrat looked very much ashamed as he finally owned up that he was envious of his cousins and some of the other animals, because they had such fine houses on the land. "'then why don't you build you a fine house on the land?' asked old mother nature. "mr. muskrat hesitated. 'i--i--love the water too well to want to stay on land all the time,' said he, 'and--and--well, i was put in the water in the first place, and i ought to be contented with what i have got and make the best of it.' "old mother nature was so pleased with mr. muskrat's reply that right away she made up her mind that he should have a finer house than any of the others, so she took him over to a quiet little pool, where the water was not too deep and she showed him how to build a wonderful house of mud and rushes and twigs, with a nice warm bedroom lined with grass above the water, and an entrance down under the water, so that no one except those who still lived most of the time in the water could possibly get into it. none of his friends on land had such a big, fine house, and mr. muskrat was very proud of it. but with all his pride he never forgot that it was a reward for trying to be content with his surroundings and making the best of them. "so from that day to this, the muskrats have built their houses in the water, and have been among the most industrious, contented, and happy of all the animals. and that is why jerry muskrat has built that fine house in the smiling pool and has so few enemies," concluded grandfather frog. peter rabbit drew a long breath, which was almost a sigh. "i almost wish my grandfather a thousand times removed had been content to stay in the water, too," he said. "chug-a-rum!" retorted grandfather frog. "if he had, you wouldn't have the dear old briar-patch. be content with what you've got," "i think i will," said peter. viii why old man coyote has many voices of course old man coyote has only one voice, but that one is such a wonderful voice that he can make it sound like a great many voices, all yelping and howling and shouting and laughing at the same time. so those who hear him always say that he has many voices, and that certainly is the way it seems. the first time peter rabbit heard old man coyote, he was sure, absolutely sure, that there was a whole crowd of strangers on the green meadows, and you may be sure that he kept very close to his dear old briar-patch. if you had been there and tried to tell peter that all that noise was made by just one voice, he wouldn't have believed you. no, sir, he wouldn't have believed you. and you couldn't have blamed him. it was the merry little breezes of old mother west wind who first told peter who the stranger was and warned him to watch out, because old man coyote is just as fond of rabbit as granny or reddy fox, and is even more crafty and sly than they. peter thanked the merry little breezes for the warning, and then he asked them how many of his family old man coyote had brought with him. of course the merry little breezes told peter that old man coyote was all alone, and they became very indignant when peter laughed at them. he just couldn't help it. "why," said he, "every night i hear a whole crowd yelping and howling together." "but you don't!" insisted the merry little breezes. "it is old man coyote alone who makes all that noise." "don't you suppose i know what i hear?" demanded peter. "no!" retorted the merry little breezes. "you may have big ears and be able to hear a great deal, sometimes a great deal more than you have any business to hear, but you are old enough by this time to have learned that you cannot believe all you hear." and with that the merry little breezes indignantly raced away to spread the news all over the green meadows. now peter was quite as indignant because they thought he couldn't or shouldn't believe his own ears, as they were because he wouldn't believe what they told him, and all the rest of that day he couldn't put the matter out of his mind. he was still thinking of it as the black shadows came creeping down from the purple hills across the green meadows. suddenly peter saw a dark form skulking among the black shadows. at first he thought it was reddy fox, only somehow it looked bigger. peter, safe in the dear old briar-patch, watched. presently the dark form came out from among the black shadows where peter could see it clearly, sat down, pointed a sharp nose up at the first twinkling little stars, opened a big mouth, and out of it poured such a yelping and howling as made peter shiver with fright. and now peter had to believe his eyes rather than his ears. his ears told him that there were many voices, but his eyes told him that all that dreadful sound was coming out of one mouth. it was hard, very hard, to believe, but it was so. "the merry little breezes were right," muttered peter to himself, as old man coyote trotted away in the direction of the green forest, and he felt a wee bit ashamed to think that he had refused to believe them. after that, peter could think of nothing but old man coyote's wonderful voice that sounded like many voices, and at the very first opportunity he hurried over to the smiling pool to ask grandfather frog what it meant. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog. "it means simply that old man coyote comes of a very smart family, and that he knows how to make the most of the gift of old mother nature to his grandfather a thousand times removed." this sounded so much like a story that peter straightway teased grandfather frog to tell him all about it. at last, to get rid of him and enjoy a little quiet and peace, grandfather frog did so. "chug-a-rum!" he began, as he always does. "the great-great-ever-so-great grandfather of old man coyote, who lived long, long ago when the world was young, was very much as old man coyote is to-day. he was just as smart and just as clever. indeed, he was smart enough and clever enough not to let his neighbors know that he was smart and clever at all. those were very peaceful times at first, and everybody was on the best of terms with everybody else, as you know. there was plenty to eat without the trouble to steal, and everybody was honest simply because it was easier to be honest than it was to be dishonest. so old king bear ruled in the green forest, and everybody was happy and contented. "but there came a time when food was scarce, and it was no longer easy to get plenty to eat. it was then that the stronger began to steal from the weaker, and by and by even to prey upon those smaller than themselves. the times grew harder and harder, and because hunger is a hard and cruel master, it made the larger and stronger people hard and cruel, too. some of them it made very sly and cunning, like old mr. fox. mr. coyote was another whom it made sly and cunning. he was smart in the first place, even smarter than mr. fox, and he very early made up his mind that if he would live, it must be by his wits, for he wasn't big enough or strong enough to fight with his neighbors such as his big cousin, mr. timber wolf, or mr. lynx, or mr. panther or old king bear, who was king no longer. and yet he liked the same things to eat. "so he used to study and plan how he could outwit them without danger to himself. 'a whole skin is better than a full stomach, but both a whole skin and a full stomach are better still,' said he to himself; as he thought and schemed. for a while he was content to catch what he could without danger to himself, and to eat what his bigger and stronger neighbors left when they happened to get more than they wanted for themselves. little by little he got the habit of slyly following them when they were hunting, always keeping out of sight. in this way, he managed to get many meals of scraps. but these scraps never wholly satisfied him, and his mouth used to water as he watched the others feast on the very best when they had had a successful hunt. he knew it wouldn't be of the least use to go out and boldly ask for some, for in those hard times everybody was very, very selfish. "the times grew harder and harder, until it seemed as if old mother nature had wholly forgotten her little people of the green meadows and the green forest. mr. coyote still managed to pick up a living, but he was hungry most of the time, and the less he had to put in his stomach, the sharper his wits grew. at last one day, as he stole soft-footed through the green forest, he discovered mr. lynx having a great feast. to keep still and watch him was almost more than mr. coyote could stand, for he was so hungry that it seemed as if the sides of his stomach almost met, it was so empty. "'if i could make myself into three, we could take that dinner away from mr. lynx!" thought he, and right on top of that thought came a great idea. why not make mr. lynx think he had a lot of friends with him? it would do no harm to try. so mr. coyote put his nose up in the air and howled. mr. lynx looked up and grinned. he had no fear of mr. coyote. then mr. coyote hurried around to the other side of mr. lynx, all the time keeping out of sight, and howled again, and this time he tried to make his voice sound different. mr. lynx stopped eating and looked up a little surprised. 'i wonder if mr. coyote has got a brother with him,' thought he. a minute later mr. coyote howled again from the place where he had howled in the first place. 'he certainly has,' thought mr. lynx, 'but i'm a match for two of them,' and once more he went on eating. "then mr. coyote began to run in a circle around mr. lynx, always keeping out of sight in the thick brush, and every few steps he yelped or howled, and each yelp or howl he tried to make sound different. now mr. coyote could run very fast, and he ran now as hard as ever he could in a big circle, yelping and howling and making his voice sound as different as possible each time. mr. lynx grew anxious and lost his appetite. 'mr. coyote must have a whole crowd of brothers,' thought he. 'i guess this is no place for me!' with that he started to sneak away. "mr. coyote followed him, still trying to make his voice sound like the voices of many. mr. lynx gave a hurried look over his shoulder and began to run. mr. coyote kept after him, yelping and howling, until he was sure that mr. lynx was so frightened that he wouldn't dare come back. then mr. coyote returned to the dinner mr. lynx had left, and ate and ate until he couldn't hold another mouthful. his throat was very raw and sore because he had strained it trying to make his voice change so often, but he didn't mind this, because, you know, it felt so good to have all he could eat at one time once more. "now it just happened that old mother nature had come along just in time to see and hear mr. coyote, and it tickled her so to think that mr. coyote had been so smart that what do you think she did? why, while he slept that night, she healed his sore throat, and she gave him a new voice; and this voice was very wonderful, for it sounded for all the world like many voices, all yelping and howling at the same time. after that, all mr. coyote had to do when he wanted to frighten some one bigger and stronger than himself was to open his mouth and send forth his new voice, which sounded like many voices. "so he had plenty to eat from that time on. and all his children and his children's children had that same wonderful voice, just as old man coyote has now. chug-a-rum! now scamper home, peter rabbit, and see that you don't let old man coyote's sharp wits get you into trouble." "thank you, grandfather frog!" cried peter and scampered as fast as he could go for the dear, safe old briar-patch. ix why miner the mole lives under ground striped chipmunk sat staring at a little ridge where the grass was raised up. he had often seen little ridges like that without thinking much about them. he knew that they were made by miner the mole. he had known that ever since he was big enough to begin to ask questions. but now as he looked at this one, it suddenly struck him that he had not seen miner the mole more than once or twice in all his life. "what a queer way of living!" thought striped chipmunk. "it's all very well to have a snug house under the ground, where one can sleep the long cold winter away and be perfectly safe, but what any one wants to live under the ground all the time for, in the beautiful springtime and summertime and autumntime, i can't understand. just think of all that miner misses--the sunshine, the flowers, the songs of the birds, and the merry little breezes to play with! i wonder--" "what do you wonder?" the voice was so close to striped chipmunk that it made him jump. he whirled about. there was johnny chuck, who had tiptoed up as softly as he knew how, to give striped chipmunk a scare. johnny grinned. "what do you wonder?" he repeated. striped chipmunk made a face at johnny. "i wonder something that i bet you don't know," he replied. "that's easy," replied johnny. "there are more things i don't know than i do know, but i'm always ready to learn. what is it this time?" "why does miner the mole live under ground all the time?" striped chipmunk pointed to the ridge made by miner. johnny chuck scratched his head thoughtfully. "i don't know," he confessed finally. "i never thought of it before. of course there must be a reason. he never comes out to play with the rest of us--just spends all his time by himself down in the dark, digging and digging. i wonder--" "well, what do _you_ wonder?" "the same thing you wonder," laughed johnny chuck. "if you haven't got anything else to do, let's go down to the smiling pool and ask grandfather frog; he'll be sure to know." striped chipmunk hadn't anything else to do, so off they started. on the way they met jimmy skunk and danny meadow mouse. neither of them knew why miner the mole lives under ground, and because they hadn't anything better to do, they also started for the smiling pool. grandfather frog was sitting on his big green lily-pad in the warm sunshine, and for once he didn't have to be teased for a story. "chug-a-rum!" said he in his deep voice. "it's very strange to me how little some folks know about their nearest neighbors." he looked up and winked at jolly, round, bright mr. sun. striped chipmunk, johnny chuck, jimmy skunk, and danny meadow mouse looked as though they felt very foolish, as indeed they did. you see, all their lives miner the mole had been one of their nearest neighbors, and yet they didn't know the first thing about him. "it happened a long time ago," continued grandfather frog. "when the world was young?" interrupted danny meadow mouse. "of course," replied grandfather frog, pretending to be very much put out at such a foolish question. danny hung his head and resolved that he would bite his tongue before he asked another question. "in those days miner's great-great-grandfather a thousand times removed didn't live under ground," continued grandfather frog. "nobody did. he wasn't so very different from a lot of other animals. food was plenty, and everybody was on the best of terms with everybody else. mr. mole lived just as the rest did. he went and came as he pleased, and enjoyed the sunshine and took part in all the good times of his neighbors. everybody liked him, and whenever he made a call, he was sure of a welcome. but one thing mr. mole never did; he never meddled in other people's affairs. no, sir, mr. mole never poked his nose in where he had no business. "for a long time everything went smoothly with all the people of the green forest and the green meadows. then came hard times. they grew harder and harder. food was scarce and kept growing more scarce. everybody was hungry, and you know how it is with hungry people--they grow ugly and quarrelsome. matters grew worse and worse, and then it was that fear was born. the big people, like old king bear and mr. wolf and mr. panther and mr. lynx, began to look with hungry eyes on the little people, and the little people began to grow afraid and hide from the big people, and all the time they were continually quarreling among themselves and stealing from each other to get enough to eat. "now, as i said before, mr. mole never had meddled with other people's business, and he didn't now. he went off by himself to think things over. 'it isn't safe to run around any more,' said he. 'i met mr. wolf this morning, and he looked at me with such a hungry look in his eyes that it gave me the cold shivers. i believe he would have eaten me, if i hadn't crawled into an old hollow stump. now i can't run fast, because my legs are too short. i can't climb trees like mr. squirrel, and i can't swim like mr. muskrat. the only thing i can do is to dig.' "you see, mr. mole always had been very fond of digging, and he had done so much of it that his front legs and claws had grown very stout. "'now if i dig a hole and keep out of sight, i won't have to worry about mr. wolf or anybody else,' continued mr. mole to himself. so he went to work at once and dug a hole on the green meadows, and, because he wanted to be comfortable, he made a big hole. when it was finished, he was tired, so he curled up at the bottom for a nap. he was awakened by hearing voices outside. he knew those voices right away. they were the voices of mr. fox and mr. badger. "'these are terrible times,' said mr. fox. 'i'm so hungry that i'm wasting away to a shadow. i wonder who has dug this hole.' "'mr. mole,' replied mr. badger. 'i saw him at work here this morning. have you noticed how very plump he looks?' "'yes,' replied mr. fox. 'he made my mouth water the very last time i saw him. seems to me i can smell him now. if he had made this hole just a little bit bigger i would go down and pull him out, but i am too tired to do any digging now.' "'i tell you what,' replied mr. badger. 'we'll hunt together a little longer, and then if we can't find anything to eat, we'll come back, and i'll help you dig, i hate to hurt mr. mole, because he always minds his own business, but these are hard times, and each one must look out for himself.' "with that they went away, leaving mr. mole shaking with fright at the bottom of his hole. 'it's of no use,' thought mr. mole. 'if i go outside, they will soon find me, and if i stay here, they will dig me out. oh, dear, oh, dear! what ever can i do?' "he lay there feeling very helpless and miserable, when all of a sudden a thought came to him. if he had made his hole small, just big enough for him to crawl into, mr. badger and mr. fox would have had to do a great deal of digging to make it big enough for either of them to get in! he would make a little tunnel off one side and hide in that. so he went to work and made a little tunnel off one side just big enough for him to squeeze into. he worked very hard and very fast, and by the time mr. badger and mr. fox returned, mr. mole was at the end of a long tunnel, so far from the hole he had first dug that he knew it would take them a long time to dig him out, even if they noticed his tunnel. "but they didn't. they dug down to the bottom of his hole and then, because they didn't find him there, they straightway fell to quarreling, each blaming the other for suggesting such a lot of hard work for nothing. finally they went away, still calling each other names, and from that day to this, foxes and badgers have never been friends. "mr. mole was very thankful for his narrow escape, and it set him to thinking. if he had a lot of these underground tunnels, no one would be able to catch him. it was a splendid idea! he went to work on it at once. and then he made a discovery--such a splendid discovery! there was plenty of food to eat right down under ground--worms and grubs--all he needed. after that, mr. mole spent all his time in his tunnels and seldom put his nose outside. he was safe, and he was comfortable, and he could always find something to eat by digging for it. "little by little his old neighbors forgot all about him. because he had little use for them, his eyes grew smaller and smaller, and when he did come up into the light, they hurt him so that he was glad to go back into the dark again. he was perfectly happy and satisfied there, and what is there in life better than to be happy and satisfied?" "nothing," replied striped chipmunk, at whom grandfather frog happened to be looking when he asked the question. "right!" replied grandfather frog. "and now you know why miner the mole lives under ground--because he is perfectly happy and satisfied there." just then up came peter rabbit, all out of breath. "has grandfather frog been telling a story?" he panted. "yes," replied striped chipmunk, winking at grandfather frog, "and now we are going back home perfectly happy and satisfied." and to this day peter rabbit wonders what the story was that he missed. x why mr. snake cannot wink peter rabbit and johnny chuck were playing tag on the green meadows. of course peter can run so much faster than johnny chuck that he would never have been "it" if he had tried his best to keep out of the way. but he didn't. no, sir, peter rabbit didn't do anything of the kind. he pretended that one of his long hind-legs was lame so that he had to run on three legs, while johnny chuck could use all four. it was great fun. they raced and dodged and twisted and turned. sometimes peter was so excited that he would forget and use all four legs. then johnny chuck would shout "no fair!" peter would say that he didn't mean to, and to make up for it would be "it" and try to catch johnny. now it happened that curled up on a little grassy tussock, taking an early morning sun-bath, lay little mr. greensnake. of course peter rabbit and johnny chuck were not afraid of him. if it had been mr. rattlesnake or mr. gophersnake, it would have been different. but from little mr. greensnake there was nothing to fear, and sometimes, just for fun, peter would jump right over him. when he did that, peter always winked good-naturedly. but mr. greensnake never winked back. instead he would raise his head, run his tongue out at peter, and hiss in what he tried to make a very fierce and angry manner. then peter would laugh and wink at him again. but never once did mr. greensnake wink back. [illustration: he would make no reply, save to run out his tongue at them.] peter was thinking of this as he and johnny chuck stretched out in a sunny spot to get their breath and rest. he had never thought of it before, but now that he had noticed it, he couldn't remember that he ever had seen little mr. greensnake wink, nor any of mr. greensnake's relatives. he mentioned the matter to johnny chuck. "that's so," replied johnny thoughtfully. "i never have seen any of them wink, either. do you suppose they can wink?" "let's go ask mr. greensnake," said peter. up they hopped and raced over to the grassy tussock where mr. greensnake lay, but to all their questions he would make no reply save to run out his tongue at them. finally they gave up asking him. "i tell you what, let's go over to the smiling pool and ask grandfather frog. he'll be sure to know, and perhaps, if he is feeling good, he'll tell us a story," said peter. so off they scampered to the smiling pool. there they found grandfather frog sitting on his big green lily-pad just as usual, and peter knew by the look in his great, goggly eyes that grandfather frog had a good breakfast of foolish green flies tucked away inside his white and yellow waistcoat. his eyes twinkled as peter and johnny very politely wished him good morning. "good morning," said he gruffly. but peter had seen that twinkle in his eyes and knew that grandfather frog was feeling good-natured in spite of his gruff greeting. "if you please, grandfather frog, why doesn't mr. greensnake wink at us when we wink at him?" he asked. "chug-a-rum! because he can't," replied grandfather frog. "can't!" cried peter rabbit and johnny chuck together. "that's what i said--can't," replied grandfather frog. "and no more can mr. blacksnake, or mr. rattlesnake, or mr. gophersnake, or any other member of the snake family." "why not?" cried peter and johnny, all in the same breath. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog, folding his hands across his white and yellow waistcoat, "if you will sit still until i finish, i'll tell you; but if you move or ask any foolish questions, i'll stop right where i am, and you'll never hear the end of the story, for no one else knows it." of course peter and johnny promised to sit perfectly still and not say a word. after they had made themselves comfortable, grandfather frog cleared his throat as if to begin, but for a long time he didn't say a word. once peter opened his mouth to ask why, but remembered in time and closed it again without making a sound. at last grandfather frog cleared his throat once more, and with a far-away look in his great, goggly eyes began: "once upon a time, long, long ago, when the world was young, lived old mr. snake, the grandfather a thousand times removed of little mr. greensnake and all the other snakes whom you know. of course he wasn't old then. he was young and spry and smart, was mr. snake. now there is such a thing as being too smart. that was the trouble with mr. snake. yes, sir, that was the trouble with mr. snake. he was so smart that he soon found out that he was the smartest of all the meadow and forest people, and that was a bad thing. it certainly was a very bad thing." grandfather frog shook his head gravely. "you see," he continued, "as soon as he found that out, he began to take advantage of his neighbors and cheat them, but he would do it so smoothly that they never once suspected that they were being cheated. mr. snake would go about all day cheating everybody he met. at night he would go home and chuckle over his smartness. it wasn't long before he began to look down on his neighbors for being so honest that they didn't suspect other people of being dishonest, and for being so easily cheated. "now one bad habit almost always leads to another. from cheating, mr. snake just naturally slipped to stealing. yes, sir, he became a thief. of course that made trouble right away, but still no one suspected mr. snake. he was always very polite to every one and always offering to do favors for his neighbors. in fact, mr. snake was very well liked and much respected. when any one had been robbed, he was always the first to offer sympathy and join in the hunt for the thief. he was so spry and slim, and could slip through the tall grass so fast, that he could go almost where he pleased without being seen, and this made him very bold. if he did happen to be found near the scene of trouble, he always had a story ready to account for his presence, and it sounded so true, and he told it in such an honest manner, that no one thought of doubting it. "so mr. snake found that lying helped him to cheat and steal, and all the time he kept thinking how smart he was. but even mr. snake had a little bit of conscience, and once in a while it would trouble him. so what do you think he did? why, cheating had become such a habit with him that he actually tried to cheat himself--to cheat his conscience! when he was telling a lie, he would wink one eye. 'that,' said he to himself, 'means that it isn't true, and if these folks are not smart enough to see me wink and know what it means, it is their own fault if they believe what i am telling them.' but always he took care to wink the eye that was turned away from the one he was talking to. "dear me, dear me, such terrible times as there were on the green meadows and in the green forest! they grew worse and worse, and when at last old mother nature came to see how all the little people were getting along, she heard so many complaints that she hardly knew where to begin to straighten matters out. she had all the little people come before her in turn and tell their troubles. when it came mr. snake's turn, he had no complaint to make. he seemed to be the only one who had no troubles. she asked him a great many questions, and for each one he had a ready reply. of course a great many of these replies were lies, and every time he told one of these, he winked without knowing it. you see, it had become a habit. "now, with all his smartness, mr. snake had forgotten one thing, one very important thing. it was this: you can't fool old mother nature, and it is of no use to try. he hadn't been talking three minutes before she knew who was at the bottom of all the trouble. she let him finish, then called all the others about her and told them who had made all the trouble. mr. snake was very bold. he held his head very high in the air and pretended not to care. when old mother nature turned her head, he even ran out his tongue at her, just as all the snake family do at you and me to-day. when she had finished telling them how cheating and stealing and lying isn't smart at all, but very, very dreadful, she turned to mr. snake and said: "'from this time on, no one will believe anything you say, and you shall have no friends. you will never wink again, for you and your children and your children's children forever will have no eyelids, that all the world may know that those who make a wrong use of the things given them shall have them taken away.' "and now you know why little mr. greensnake cannot wink at you; he hasn't any eyelids to wink with" finished grandfather frog. peter rabbit drew a long breath. "thank you, oh, thank you ever so much, grandfather frog," he said. "will you tell us next time why bobby coon wears rings on his tail?" "perhaps," replied grandfather frog. xi why bobby coon has rings on his tail peter rabbit would give grandfather frog no peace. every day peter visited the smiling pool to tease grandfather frog for a story--for one particular story. he wanted to know why it is that bobby coon wears rings on his tail. you see, peter had admired bobby coon's tail for a long time. peter has such a funny little tail himself, just a little white bunch of cotton, that such a handsome tail as bobby coon's sometimes stirs just a wee bit of envy in peter's heart. but it wasn't envy so much as curiosity that prompted peter to tease for that story. bobby coon's tail is very handsome, you know. it has beautiful rings of black and gray, and peter didn't know of any other tail at all like it. somehow, he felt right down deep in his heart that there must be a reason for those rings, just as there is a reason for his own long ears and long legs. the more he thought about it, the more he felt that he simply must know, and the only way he could find out was from grandfather frog, who is very old and very wise. so he teased and he teased until finally grandfather frog promised him that on the next afternoon he would tell peter why bobby coon has rings on his tail. peter hurried away to tell all the little meadow and forest people, and the next afternoon they were all on hand on the bank of the smiling pool to hear the story about bobby coon's tail. "chug-a-rum!" began grandfather frog, smoothing down his white and yellow waistcoat. "chug-a-rum! some folks seem to think that what they do doesn't matter to anybody but themselves. that was the way with old mr. rabbit, who lived a long time ago when the world was young. he thought he could make all the trouble he pleased by his dreadful curiosity, and if he was found out, no one would suffer but himself. but it wasn't so. here is peter rabbit, his grandchild a thousand times removed, with long legs and long ears, and the bad habit of curiosity, all because old mr. rabbit had a bad habit and didn't try to overcome it. "it was the same way with old mr. coon. he was dishonest and stole from old king bear. old mother nature punished him by putting mustard in his food, and mr. coon thought he was so smart that he could get ahead of old mother nature by washing all his food before he ate it. old mother nature didn't say anything, but watched him and smiled to herself. you see, she knew that mr. coon was beginning a good habit, a very good habit indeed--the habit of neatness. so, though she knew perfectly well that he was doing it just to get ahead of her, she was glad, for she was fond of mr. coon in spite of the bad ways he had grown into, and she knew that good habits are like bad habits--once started they grow and grow, and are very likely to lead to more good habits. "it was so with mr. coon. he found that his food tasted better for being so clean, and he grew very fussy about what he ate. no matter where he found it or how tempting it looked, he wouldn't eat it until he had carried it to the nearest water and washed it. he still remembered the mustard and tried to fool himself into thinking that he was simply spiting old mother nature, but right down in his heart he knew that even if he should be told that never again would there be mustard in his food, he would wash it just the same. "one day, as he sat beside the laughing brook eating his supper, he noticed that while his food had been washed clean, his hands were dirty. they spoiled his supper. yes, sir, they spoiled his supper. "'what good does it do to wash my food, if i eat it out of dirty hands?' said mr. coon to himself, and he hurried to a quiet little pool to give them a good scrubbing. then he washed his face and brushed his coat. 'now i feel better, and i know my supper will taste better,' said he. "from that time he began to be particular, very particular, about keeping himself clean, until finally there was no one on the green meadows or in the green forest quite so neat as mr. coon. "now at this time mr. coon had a very plain tail. it was all of one color, a grayish white, not at all pretty. mr. coon used to think a great deal about that tail and wish and wish that it was handsome. sometimes he used to envy mr. fox his beautiful red tail with its black and white tip. one day, as he sat on an old log with his chin in his hands, thinking about his tail, who should come along but old mother nature. "'good morning, mr. coon,' said she in her pleasantest voice. "mr. coon got up and made a very low bow. 'good morning, mother nature,' he replied in his politest manner, which was very polite indeed. "'what were you thinking about so hard?' asked old mother nature. "mr. coon looked a little bit ashamed. then he sighed. 'i was wishing that my tail was handsomer,' said he. 'but it is a very good tail as it is,' he added hastily. "old mother nature's eyes twinkled. she sat down beside mr. coon and asked him all about his affairs, just as if she didn't know all about them already. she told him how pleased she was to find him so neat and clean, and mr. coon just tingled all over with pleasure. at last she got up to go, and her eyes twinkled more than ever, as she said: "'by the way, mr. coon, i am so pleased with your neatness that i am leaving you a reward. i hope you will like it.' "mr. coon didn't see any reward, but he thanked her just the same, and old mother nature went on her way. mr. coon watched her out of sight. then he sat down on the old log again and scratched his head thoughtfully as he looked this way and that. "'i wonder what she meant by reward. i don't see any anywhere,' he said to himself. "by and by he just happened to glance at his tail. 'oh!' cried mr. coon, and then for a long time he couldn't say another word, but just looked and looked with shining eyes and such a queer feeling of happiness in his heart. you see, old mother nature had left a beautiful, broad, black ring around his tail. mr. coon couldn't do anything the rest of that day but look at and admire that ring, until his neck ached from twisting it around so long. "after that he was neater than ever, you may be sure, and the next time old mother nature came around, she left another handsome black ring on his tail, because he hadn't grown careless, but had kept up his good habits. "now about this time, hard times came to all the little people of the green forest and the green meadows. every one began to grumble. mr. bear grumbled. mr. fox grumbled. mr. rabbit grumbled. mr. jay grumbled. mr. squirrel grumbled. even mr. chuck grumbled. and one and all they began to blame old mother nature. then they began to quarrel among themselves and to steal from each other. some even left their homes and went out into the great world to try to find a better place to live, only to find that the great world was a harder place to live in than the green forest and the green meadows. "but mr. coon didn't grumble, and he didn't go away. no, sir, mr. coon just stuck to his home and did the best he could to find enough to eat. he kept himself as neat as ever and was always cheerful. whenever he met one of his grumbling neighbors, he would say: "'better times coming! better times coming! old mother nature is doing the best she can. better times coming!' "the others would laugh at him for his faith in old mother nature, and say ugly things about her, and urge mr. coon to go with them out into the great world. but he kept right on minding his own business and keeping neat and cheerful, until at last old mother nature, all worried and troubled, came to see what she could do to straighten matters out. it didn't take her long to find out how all the little meadow and forest people, except mr. coon, had grumbled and been discontented and said ugly things about her, for you can't fool old mother nature, and it's of no use to try. some she punished one way, and some she punished another way, for of course she hadn't been to blame for the hard times, but had been working night and day to put an end to them. "mr. coon was the last to be called before her, and instead of being frowning and cross, as she had been to the others, she was all smiles. she said a lot of nice things to him, and when at last she sent him away, what do you think she had given him?" "more rings," cried peter rabbit. "yes," replied grandfather frog, "mr. coon's tail was ringed way to the tip. there was one for cheerfulness, and one for faith, and one for persistence in making the best of a bad matter and staying at home. and ever since that long-ago day when the world was young, the coons have been very proud of their beautiful tails and have kept up the good habits of old mr. coon. now you know, peter rabbit, why bobby coon wears rings on his tail," concluded grandfather frog. peter gave a long sigh. "i think it's perfectly beautiful," he said. "i wish i had rings on my tail." and then he wondered why everybody laughed. xii why there is a black head in the buzzard family ol' mistah buzzard had just told the story of why he has a bald head and is proud of it. you know he hasn't a feather on it, and it is very, very red. it was a very interesting story, and it had been listened to with the closest attention by a lot of the little meadow and forest people. unc' billy possum, who is ol' mistah buzzard's particular friend, both having come from "way down souf," happened along just in time to hear the end of it. "may ah ask yo' a question, brer buzzard?" said he. "cert'nly, brer possum. cert'nly," replied ol' mistah buzzard. "is buzzard really your fam'ly name?" asked unc' billy. "no, brer possum, it isn't," replied ol' mistah buzzard. everybody looked surprised. you see, no one ever had heard him called anything but buzzard. but no one said anything, and after a minute or two ol' mistah buzzard explained. "mah fam'ly name is vulture," said he. "yes, sah, mah fam'ly name is vulture, but we-uns done been called buzzards so long, that ah don' know as ah would know ah was being spoken to, if ah was called mistah vulture." "an' do ah understand that all of your fam'ly have red haids?" inquired unc' billy. ol' mistah buzzard looked down at unc' billy, and he saw a twinkle in unc' billy's shrewd little eyes. ol' mistah buzzard grinned. "ah knows jes' what yo' done got in your mind, brer possum," said he. "it's that trifling, no 'count cousin of mine. he's a buzzard, or a vulture, if yo' like that better, jes' like ah am, but he belongs to another branch of the fam'ly. he has a bald haid, jes' like ah have, but his haid is black instead of red. that's because his grandpap was trifling an' po' trash, jes' like he is." peter rabbit pricked up his ears. this sounded like another story. he was curious about that black-headed cousin of ol' mistah buzzard, very curious indeed. he wondered if ol' mistah buzzard would have to be teased for a story, like grandfather frog. anyway, he would find out. there would be no harm in trying. "if you please, how does your cousin happen to have a black head?" asked peter as politely as he knew how. "because his grandpap asked too many questions," replied ol' mistah buzzard, slyly winking at the others. everybody laughed, for everybody knows that no one asks more questions than peter rabbit. peter laughed with the rest, although he looked a wee bit foolish. but he didn't mean to give up just because he was laughed at. oh, my, no! "please, mr. buzzard, please tell us the story," he begged. now ol' mistah buzzard is naturally good-natured and accommodating, and when peter begged so hard, he just couldn't find it in his heart to refuse. besides, he rather enjoys telling stories. so he shook his feathers out, half spread his wings to let the air blow under them, looked down at all the little meadow and forest people gathered about the foot of the tall, dead tree where he delights to roost, grinned at them in the funniest way, and then began this story: "way back in the days when grandpap buzzard had his lil falling out with ol' king eagle and done fly so high he sco'tch the feathers offen his haid, he had a cousin, did grandpap buzzard, and this cousin was jes' naturally lazy and no 'count. like most no 'count people, he used to make a regular nuisance of hisself, poking his nose into ev'ybody's business and never 'tending to his own. wasn't anything going on that this trifling member of the buzzard fam'ly didn't find out about and meddle in. he could ask mo' questions than peter rabbit can, an' anybody that can do that has got to ask a lot." everybody looked at peter and laughed. peter made a funny face and laughed too. "seemed like he jes' went 'round from mo'ning to night asking questions," continued ol' mistah buzzard, "got so that eve'ybody dreaded to see that no 'count buzzard coming, because he bound to pester with questions about things what don't concern him no ways. "now yo' know that way down in ol' virginny where ah done come from, mah fam'ly done got the habit of sitting on the tops of chimneys in the wintertime to warm their toes." "why, i thought it was warm down south!" interrupted peter rabbit. "so it is, brer rabbit! so it is!" ol' mistah buzzard hastened to say. "but yo' see, ol' jack frost try to come down there sometimes, an' he cool the air off a right smart lot before he turn tail an' run back where he belong. so we-uns sit on the chimney-tops whenever ol' jack frost gets to straying down where he have no business. yo' see, if we-uns keep our toes warm, we-uns are warm all over. "one day this no 'count, trifling cousin of grandpap buzzard get cold in his feet. he look 'round right smart fo' a chimney fo' to warm his toes, an' pretty soon he see one where he never been before. it was on a lil ol' house, a lil ol' tumble-down house. mistah buzzard fly right over an' sit on that chimney-top fo' to warm his toes. of course he right smart curious about that lil ol' tumble-down house and who live there. he hear somebody inside talking to theirself, but he can't hear what they say, jes' a mumbling sound that come up the chimney to him. "he listen an' listen. then he shift 'round to the other side of the chimney an' listen. no matter where he sit, he can't hear what being said down inside that lil ol' tumble-down house. then what do yo' think mistah buzzard do? why, he jes' stretch his fool haid as far down that chimney as he can an' listen an' listen. yes, sah, that is jes' what that no 'count buzzard do. but all he hear is jes' a mumbling and a mumbling, an' that make him more curious than ever. it seem to him that he must go clean outen his haid 'less he hear what going on down inside that lil ol' house. "now when he stretch his haid an' neck down the chimney that way, he get 'em all black with soot. but he don't mind that. no, sah, he don' mind that a bit. fact is, he don' notice it. he so curious he don' notice anything, an' pretty soon he plumb fo'get where he is an' that he is listening where he have no business. he plumb fo'get all about this, an' he holler down that chimney. yes, sah, he holler right down that chimney! "'will yo'-alls please speak a lil louder,' he holler down the chimney, jes' like that. "now the lil ol' woman what lived by herself in that lil ol' tumble-down house hadn't seen that no 'count buzzard light on the chimney fo' to warm his toes, an' when she hear that voice coming right outen the fireplace, she was some flustrated and scared, was that lil ol' woman. yes, sah, she sho'ly was plumb scared. she so scared she tip over a whole kettleful of soup right in the fire. of course that make a terrible mess an' a powerful lot of smoke an' hot ashes fly up the chimney. they like to choke that no 'count buzzard to death. they burn the feathers offen his haid an' neck, an' the soot make him black, all but his feet an' laigs an' the inside of his wings, which he keep closed. "mistah buzzard he give a mighty squawk an' fly away. when he get home, he try an' try to brush that soot off, but it done get into the skin an' it stay there. an' from that day his haid an' neck stay black, an' he never speak lessen he spoken to, an' then he only grunt. his chillen jes' like him, an' his chillen's chillen the same way. an' that is the reason that mah cousin who lives down souf done have a black haid," concluded ol' mistah buzzard. a little sigh of satisfaction went around the circle of listeners. as usual, peter rabbit was the first to speak. "that was a splendid story, mr. buzzard," said he, "and i'm ever and ever so much obliged to you. it was just as good as one of grandfather frog's." ol' mistah buzzard grinned and slowly winked one eye at unc' billy possum as he replied: "thank yo', brer rabbit. that's quite the nicest thing yo' could say." "but it's true!" shouted all together, and then everybody gave three cheers for ol' mistah buzzard before starting off to attend to their own private affairs. xiii why buster bear appears to have no tail peter rabbit had something new to bother his bump of curiosity. and it did bother it a lot. he had just seen buster bear for the first time, and what do you think had impressed him most? well, it wasn't buster's great size, or wonderful strength, or big claws, or deep, grumbly-rumbly voice. no, sir, it wasn't one of these. it was the fact that buster bear seemed to have no tail! peter couldn't get over that. he almost pitied buster bear. you see, peter has a great admiration for fine tails. he has always been rather ashamed of the funny little one he has himself. still, it is a real tail, and he has often comforted himself with that thought. so the first thing peter did when he saw buster bear was to look to see what kind of a tail he had. just imagine how surprised he was when he couldn't make sure that buster had any tail at all. there was something that might, just might, be meant for a tail, and peter wasn't even sure of that. if it was, it was so ridiculously small that peter felt that he had no reason to be ashamed of his own tail. he was still thinking about this when he started for home. half way there, he paused, saw that the way to the smiling pool was clear, and suddenly made up his mind to ask grandfather frog about buster bear's tail. off he started, lipperty-lipperty-lip. "oh, grandfather frog," he panted, as soon as he reached the edge of the smiling pool, "has buster bear got a tail?" grandfather frog regarded peter in silence for a minute or two. then very slowly he asked: "what are your eyes for, peter rabbit? couldn't you see whether or not he has a tail?" "no, grandfather frog. i really couldn't tell whether he has a tail or not," replied peter quite truthfully. "at first i thought he hadn't, and then i thought he might have. if he has, it doesn't seem to me that it is enough to call a really truly tail." "well, it is a really truly tail, even if you don't think so," retorted grandfather frog, "and he has it for a reminder." "a reminder!" exclaimed peter, looking very much puzzled. "a reminder of what?" grandfather frog cleared his throat two or three times. "sit down, peter, and learn a lesson from the tale of the tail of old king bear," said he very seriously. "you remember that once upon a time, long ago, when the world was young, old king bear ruled in the green forest, and everybody brought tribute to him." peter nodded and grandfather frog went on. "now old king bear was the great-great-ever-so-great grandfather of buster bear, and he looked very much as buster does, except that he didn't have any tail at all, not the least sign of a tail. at first, before he was made king of the green forest, he didn't mind this at all. in fact, he was rather pleased that he didn't have a tail. you see, he couldn't think of any earthly use he would have for a tail, and so he was glad that he hadn't got one to bother with. "this was just old mother nature's view of the matter. she had done her very best to give everybody everything that they really needed, and not to give them things which they didn't need. she couldn't see that mr. bear had the least need of a tail, and so she hadn't given him one. mr. bear was perfectly happy without one, and was so busy getting enough to eat that he didn't have time for silly thoughts or vain wishes. "then he was made king over all the people of the green forest, and his word was law. it was a very great honor, and for a while he felt it so and did his best to rule wisely. he went about just as before, hunting for his living, and had no more time than before for foolish thoughts or vain wishes. but after a little, the little people over whom he ruled began to bring him tribute, so that he no longer had to hunt for enough to eat. indeed, he had so much brought to him, that he couldn't begin to eat all of it, and he grew very dainty and fussy about what he did eat. having nothing to do but eat and sleep, he grew very fat and lazy, as is the case with most people who have nothing to do. he grew so fat that when he walked, he puffed and wheezed. he grew so lazy that he wanted to be waited on all the time. "it happened about this time that he overheard mr. fox talking to mr. wolf when they both thought him asleep. 'a pretty kind of a king, he is!' sneered mr. fox. 'the idea of a king without a tail!' "'that's so,' assented mr. wolf. 'why, even that little upstart, mr. rabbit, has got a make-believe tail.'" grandfather frog's eyes twinkled as he said this, and peter looked very much embarrassed. but he didn't say anything, so grandfather frog went on. "old king bear pretended to wake up just then, and right away mr. fox and mr. wolf were as polite and smiling as you please and began to flatter him. they told him how proud they were of their king, and how handsome he was, and a lot of other nice things, all of which he had heard often before and had believed. he pretended to believe them now, but after they were through paying their respects and had gone away, he kept turning over and over in his mind what he had overheard them say when they thought he was asleep. "after that he couldn't think of anything but the fact that he hadn't any tail. he took particular notice of all who came to pay him tribute, and he saw that every one of them had a tail. some had long tails; some had short tails; some had handsome tails and some had homely tails; but everybody had a tail of some kind. the more he tried not to think of these tails, the more he did think of them. the more he thought of them, the more discontented he grew because he had none. he didn't stop to think that probably all of them had use for their tails. no, sir, he didn't think of that. everybody else had a tail, and he hadn't. he felt that it was a disgrace that he, the king, should have no tail. he brooded over it so much that he lost his appetite and grew cross and peevish. "then along came old mother nature to see how things were going in the green forest. of course she saw right away that something was wrong with old king bear. when she asked him what the matter was, he was ashamed to tell her at first. but after a little he told her that he wanted a tail; that he could never again be happy unless he had a tail. she told him that he hadn't the least use in the world for a tail, and that he wouldn't be any happier if he had one. nothing that she could say made any difference--he wanted a tail. finally she gave him one. "for a few days old king bear was perfectly happy. he spent all his spare time admiring his new tail. he called the attention of all his subjects to it, and they all told him that it was a very wonderful tail and was very becoming to him. but it wasn't long before he found that his new tail was very much in the way. it bothered him when he walked. it was in the way when he sat down. it was a nuisance when he climbed a tree. he didn't have a single use for it, and yet he had to carry it with him wherever he went. worse still, he overheard little mr. squirrel and mr. possum making fun of it. and then he discovered that the very ones who admired his tail so to his face were laughing at him and poking fun at him behind his back. "and then old king bear wished that he _hadn't_ a tail more than ever he wished that he _did_ have a tail. again he lost his appetite and grew cross and peevish, so that no one dared come near him. so matters went from bad to worse, until once more old mother nature visited the green forest to see how things were. very humbly old king bear went down on his knees and begged her to take away his tail. at first old mother nature refused, but he begged so hard and promised so faithfully never again to be discontented, that finally she relented and took away his tail, all but just a wee little bit. that she left as a reminder lest he should forget the lesson he had learned and should again grow envious. [illustration: "then old king bear wished that he hadn't a tail."] "and every bear since that long-ago day has carried about with him a reminder--you can hardly call it a real tail--of the silly, foolish discontent of old king bear," concluded grandfather frog. peter rabbit scratched one long ear thoughtfully as he replied: "thank you, grandfather frog. i think that hereafter i will be quite content with what i've got and never want things it is not meant that i should have." xiv why flitter the bat flies at night [illustration: "it must be fine to fly," thought peter. "i wish i could fly."] flitter the bat made peter rabbit's head dizzy. peter couldn't help watching him. he just had to. it seemed so wonderful that flitter could really fly, that whenever he saw him, peter had to stop and watch. and then, as he saw flitter twist and turn, fly high, fly low, and go round and round, peter's head would begin to swim and grow dizzy, and he wondered and wondered how it was that flitter himself didn't grow dizzy. "it must be fine to fly," thought peter. "i wish i could fly. if i could, i wouldn't spend all my time flying around the way flitter does. i'd go on long journeys and see the great world. i'd fly way, way up in the blue, blue sky, the way ol' mistah buzzard does, where i could look down and see all that is going on in the green forest and on the green meadows. and i'd fly in the daytime, because there is more going on then. i wonder, now, why it is that flitter never comes out until after jolly, round, red mr. sun has gone to bed behind the purple hills. i never see him in the daytime, and i don't even know where he keeps himself. i never thought of it before, but i wonder why it is that he flies only at night. i believe i'll ask grandfather frog the very next time i see him." now you know that once peter rabbit's curiosity is aroused, it just has to be satisfied. no sooner did he begin to wonder about flitter the bat than he could think of nothing else. so he watched until the way was clear, and then he started for the smiling pool as fast as he could go, lipperty-lipperty-lip. he hoped he would find grandfather frog sitting as usual on his big green lily-pad, and that he would be good-natured. if he wasn't feeling good-natured, it would be of no use to ask him for a story. when peter reached the smiling pool he was disappointed, terribly disappointed. the big green lily-pad was there, but there was no one sitting on it. somehow the smiling pool didn't seem quite like itself without grandfather frog sitting there watching for foolish green flies. peter's face showed just how disappointed he felt. he was just going to turn away when a great, deep voice said: "chug-a-rum! where are your manners, peter rabbit, that you forget to speak to your elders?" peter stared eagerly into the smiling pool, and presently he saw two great, goggly eyes and the top of a green head, way out almost in the middle of the smiling pool. it was grandfather frog himself, having his morning swim. "oh, grandfather frog, i didn't see you at all!" cried peter, "if i had, of course i would have spoken. the fact is, i--i--" "you want a story," finished grandfather frog for him. "you can't fool me, peter rabbit. you came over here just to ask me for a story. i know you, peter! i know you! well, what is it this time?" "if you please," replied peter politely and happily, for he saw that grandfather frog was feeling good-natured, "why is it that flitter the bat flies only at night?" grandfather frog climbed out on his big green lily-pad and made himself comfortable. peter sat still and tried not to show how impatient he felt. grandfather frog took his time. it tickled him to see how hard impatient peter was trying to be patient, and his big, goggly eyes twinkled. "chug-a-rum!" said he at last, with a suddenness that made peter jump. "that's very good, peter, very good indeed! now i'll tell you the story." of course he meant that peter's effort to keep still was very good, but peter didn't know this, and he couldn't imagine what grandfather frog meant. however, what he cared most about was the story, so he settled himself to listen, his long ears standing straight up, and his eyes stretched wide open as he watched grandfather frog. the latter cleared his throat two or three times, each time as if he intended to begin right then. it was one of grandfather frog's little jokes. he did it just to tease peter. at last he really did begin, and the very first thing he did was to ask peter a question. "what is the reason that you stay in the dear old briar-patch when reddy fox is around?" "so that he won't catch me, of course," replied peter. "very good," said grandfather frog. "now, why do you go over to the sweet-clover patch every day?" "why, because there is plenty to eat there," replied peter, looking very, very much puzzled. "well, now you've answered your own question," grunted grandfather frog. "flitter flies at night because he is safest then, and because he can find plenty to eat." "oh," said peter, and his voice sounded dreadfully disappointed. he had found out what he had wanted to know, but he hadn't had a story. he fidgeted about and looked very hard at grandfather frog, but the latter seemed to think that he had told peter what he wanted to know, and that was all there was to it. finally peter sighed, and it was such a heavy sigh! then very slowly he turned his back on the smiling pool and started to hop away. "chug-a-rum!" said grandfather frog in his deepest, story-telling voice. "a long time ago when the world was young, the great-great-ever-so-great grandfather of flitter the bat first learned to fly." "i know!" cried peter eagerly. "you told me about that, and it was a splendid story." "but when he learned to fly, he found that old mother nature never gives all her blessings to any single one of her little people," continued grandfather frog, without paying the least attention to peter's interruption. "old mr. bat had wings; something no other animal had, but he found that he could no longer run and jump. he could just flop about on the ground, and was almost helpless. of course that meant that he could very easily be caught, and so the ground was no longer a safe place for him. but he soon found that he was not safe in the air in daytime. old mr. hawk could fly even faster than he, and mr. hawk was always watching for him. at first, mr. bat didn't know what to do. he didn't like to go to old mother nature and complain that his new wings were not all that he had thought they would be. that would look as if he were ungrateful for her kindness in giving him the wings. "'i've got to think of some way out of my troubles myself,' thought old mr. bat. 'when i'm sure that i can't, it will be time enough to go to old mother nature.' "now of course it is very hard to think when you are twisting and dodging and turning in the air." "of course!" said peter rabbit, just as if he knew all about it. "so mr. bat went looking for a place where he could be quiet all by himself and think without danger of being gobbled up for some one's dinner," continued grandfather frog. "he flew and he flew and had almost given up hope of finding any such place when he saw a cave. it looked very black inside, but it was big enough for mr. bat to fly into, and in he went. he knew that mr. hawk would never come in there, and when he found a little shelf up near the roof, he knew that he was safe from any four-footed enemies who might follow him there. it was just the place to rest and think. so he rested, and while he rested, he thought and thought. "by and by he noticed that it was growing dark outside. 'my goodness! if i am going to get anything to eat to-day, i shall have to hurry,' thought he. when he got outside, he found that mr. sun had gone to bed. so had all the birds, except mr. owl and mr. nighthawk. now mr. nighthawk doesn't belong to the hawk family at all, so there was nothing to fear from him. then mr. bat had a very pleasant surprise. he found the air full of insects, ever so many more than in the daytime. by being very smart and quick he caught a few before it was too dark for him to see. they didn't fill his stomach, but they kept him from starving. as he flew back to the cave, a great idea came to him, the idea for which he had been thinking so hard. he would sleep days in the cave, where he was perfectly safe, and come out to hunt bugs and insects just as soon as mr. hawk had gone to bed! then he would be safe and would not have to complain to old mother nature. "at first old mr. bat, who wasn't old then, you know, had hard work to catch enough insects before it grew too dark, but he found that every night he could see a little longer and a little better than the night before, until by and by he could see as well in the dusk as he used to see in the daytime. then he realized that old mother nature had once more been very good to him, and that she had helped him just as she always helps those who help themselves. she had given him night-seeing eyes, and he no more had to go hungry. "mr. bat was very grateful, and from that day to this, bats have been content to live in caves and fly in the evening. you ask flitter if it isn't so." peter grinned. "he never stays in one place long enough for me to ask him anything," said he. "i'm ever so much obliged for the story, grandfather frog. it pays to make the best of what we have, doesn't it?" "it certainly does. chug-a-rum! it certainly does!" replied grandfather frog. xv why spotty the turtle carries his house with him spotty the turtle sat on an old log on the bank of the smiling pool, taking a sun-bath. he had sat that way for the longest time without once moving. peter rabbit had seen him when he went by on his way to the laughing brook and the green forest to look for some one to pass the time of day with. spotty was still there when peter returned a long time after, and he didn't look as if he had moved. a sudden thought struck peter. he couldn't remember that he ever had seen spotty's house. he had seen the houses of most of his other friends, but think as hard as ever he could, he didn't remember having seen spotty's. "hi, spotty!" he shouted. "where do you live?" spotty slowly turned his head and looked up at peter. there was a twinkle in his eyes, though peter didn't see it. "right here in the smiling pool. where else should i live?" he replied. "i mean, where is your house?" returned peter. "of course i know you live in the smiling pool, but where is your house? is it in the bank or down under water?" "it is just wherever i happen to be. just now it is right here," said spotty. "i always take it with me wherever i go; i find it much the handiest way." [illustration: "hi, spotty!" he shouted. "where do you live?"] with that spotty disappeared. that is to say, his head and legs and tail disappeared. peter stared very hard. then he began to laugh, for it came to him that what spotty had said was true. his house was with him, and now he had simply retired inside. he didn't need any other house than just that hard, spotted shell, inside of which he was now so cosily tucked away. "that's a great idea! ho, ho, ho! that's a great idea!" shouted peter. "of course it is," replied spotty, putting nothing but his head out, "you will always find me at home whenever you call, peter, and that is more than you can say of most other people." all the way to his own home in the dear old briar-patch, peter thought about spotty and how queer it was that he should carry his house around with him. "i wonder how it happens that he does it," thought he. "no wonder he is so slow. of course, it is very handy to have his house always with him. as he says, he is always at home. still, when he is in a hurry to get away from an enemy, it must be very awkward to have to carry his house on his back. i--i--why, how stupid of me! he doesn't have to run away at all! all he has got to do is to go inside his house and stay there until the danger is past! i never thought of that before. why, that is the handiest thing i ever heard of." now peter knew that there must be a good story about spotty and his house, and you know peter dearly loves a good story. so at the very first opportunity the next day, he hurried over to the smiling pool to ask grandfather frog about it. as usual, grandfather frog was sitting on his big green lily-pad. no sooner did peter pop his head above the edge of the bank of the smiling pool than grandfather frog exclaimed: "chug-a-rum! you've kept me waiting a long time, peter rabbit. i don't like to be kept waiting. if you wanted to know about spotty the turtle, why didn't you come earlier?" all the time there was a twinkle in the big, goggly eyes of grandfather frog. peter was so surprised that he couldn't find his tongue. he hadn't said a word to any one about spotty, so how could grandfather frog know what he had come for? for a long time he had had a great deal of respect for grandfather frog, who, as you know, is very old and very wise, but now peter felt almost afraid of him. you see, it seemed to peter as if grandfather frog had read his very thoughts. "i--i didn't know you were waiting. truly i didn't," stammered peter. "if i had, i would have been here long ago. if you please, how did you know that i was coming and what i was coming for?" "never mind how i knew. i know a great deal that i don't tell, which is more than some folks can say," replied grandfather frog. peter wondered if he meant him, for you know peter is a great gossip. but he didn't say anything, because he didn't know just what to say, and in a minute grandfather frog began the story peter so much wanted. "of course you know, without me telling you, that there is a reason for spotty's carrying his house around with him, because there is a reason for everything in this world. and of course you know that that reason is because of something that happened a long time ago, way back in the days when the world was young. almost everything to-day is the result of things that happened in those long-ago days. the great-great-ever-so-great grandfather of spotty the turtle lived then, and unlike spotty, whom you know, he had no house. he was very quiet and bashful, was mr. turtle, and he never meddled with any one's business, because he believed that the best way of keeping out of trouble was to attend strictly to his own affairs. "he was a good deal like spotty, just as fond of the water and just as slow moving, but he didn't have the house which spotty has now. if he had had, he would have been saved a great deal of trouble and worry. for a long time everybody lived at peace with everybody else. then came the trying time, of which you already know, when those who lived on the green meadows and in the green forest had the very hardest kind of work to find enough to eat, and were hungry most of the time. now mr. turtle, living in the smiling pool, had plenty to eat. he had nothing to worry about on that score. everybody who lives in the smiling pool knows that it is the best place in the world, anyway." grandfather frog winked at jerry muskrat, who was listening, and jerry nodded his head. "but presently mr. turtle discovered that the big people were eating the little people whenever they could catch them, and that he wasn't safe a minute when on shore, and not always safe in the water," continued grandfather frog. "he had two or three very narrow escapes, and these set him to thinking. he was too slow and awkward to run or to fight. the only thing he could do was to keep out of sight as much as possible. so he learned to swim with only his head out of water, and sometimes with only the end of his nose out of water. when he went on land, he would cover himself with mud, and then when he heard anybody coming, he would lie perfectly still, with his legs and his tail and his head drawn in just as close as possible, so that he looked for all the world like just a little lump of brown earth. "one day he had crawled under a piece of bark to rest and at the same time keep out of sight of any who might happen along. when he got ready to go on his way, he found that the piece of bark had caught on his back, and that he was carrying it with him. at first he was annoyed and started to shake it off. before he succeeded, he heard someone coming, so he promptly drew in his head and legs and tail. it was mr. fisher, and he was very hungry and fierce. he looked at the piece of bark under which mr. turtle was hiding, but all he saw was the bark, because, you know, mr. turtle had drawn himself wholly under. "'i believe,' said mr. fisher, talking out loud to himself, 'that i'll have a look around the smiling pool and see if i can catch that slow-moving turtle who lives there. i believe he'll make me a good dinner.' "of course mr. turtle heard just what he said, and he blessed the piece of bark which had hidden him from mr. fisher's sight. for a long time he lay very still. when he did go on, he took the greatest care not to shake off that piece of bark, for he didn't know but that any minute he might want to hide under it again. at last he reached the smiling pool and slipped into the water, leaving the piece of bark on the bank. thereafter, when he wanted to go on land, he would first make sure that no one was watching. then he would crawl under the piece of bark and get it on his back. wherever he went he carried the piece of bark so as to have it handy to hide under. "now all this time old mother nature had been watching mr. turtle, and it pleased her to see that he was smart enough to think of such a clever way of fooling his enemies. so she began to study how she could help mr. turtle. one day she came up behind him just as he sat down to rest. the piece of bark was uncomfortable and scratched his back, 'i wish,' said he, talking to himself, for he didn't know that any one else was near, 'i wish that i had a house of my own that i could carry on my back all the time and be perfectly safe when i was inside of it.' "'you shall have,' said old mother nature, and reaching out, she touched his back and turned the skin into hard shell. then she touched the skin of his stomach and turned that into hard shell. 'now draw in your head and your legs and your tail,' said she. "mr. turtle did as he was told to do, and there he was in the very best and safest kind of a house, perfectly hidden from all his enemies! "'oh, mother nature, how can i ever thank you?' he cried. "'by doing as you always have done, attending wholly to your own affairs,' replied old mother nature. "so ever since that long-ago day when the world was young, all turtles have carried their houses with them and never have meddled in things that don't concern them," concluded grandfather frog. "oh, thank you, grandfather frog," exclaimed peter, drawing a long breath. "that was a perfectly splendid thing for old mother nature to do." then he started for his own home in the dear old briar-patch, and all the way there he wondered and wondered how grandfather frog knew that he wanted that story, and to this day he hasn't found out. you see, he didn't notice that grandfather frog was listening when he asked spotty about his house. of course, grandfather frog knows peter and his curiosity so well that he had guessed right away that peter would come to him for the story, just as peter did. xvi why paddy the beaver has a broad tail usually the thing that interests us most is something that we haven't got ourselves. it is that way with peter rabbit. peter is not naturally envious. oh, my, no! peter is pretty well satisfied with what he has, which is quite as it should be. there is only one thing with which peter is really dissatisfied, and it is only once in a while, when he hasn't much of anything else to think about, that he is dissatisfied with this. can you guess what it is? well, it is his tail. yes, sir, that is the one thing that ever really troubles peter. you see, peter's tail is, nothing but a funny little bunch of cotton, which doesn't look like a tail at all. the only time he ever sees it is when he is back to the smiling pool and looks over his shoulder at his reflection in the water, and then, of course, he really doesn't see his tail itself. so sometimes when peter sees the fine tails of his neighbors, a little bit of envy creeps into his heart for just a little while. why, even little danny meadow mouse has a real tail, short as it is. and as for happy jack squirrel and reddy fox and bobby coon and jimmy skunk, everybody knows what beautiful tails they have. once peter thought about it so much that grandfather frog noticed how sober he was and asked peter what the trouble was. when peter told him that it seemed to him that old mother nature had not been fair in giving him such a foolish little tail when she had given others such beautiful ones, grandfather frog just opened his big mouth and laughed until he had to hold his sides. "why, peter," said he, "you look so sober, that i thought you really had something to worry about. what would you do with a big tail, if you had one? it would always be in your way. just think how many times reddy fox or old granny fox have almost caught you. they certainly would have before this, if you had had a long tail sticking out behind for them to get hold of. i had a long tail when i was young, and i was mighty glad to get rid of it." after he heard that, peter felt better. but he didn't lose interest in tails, and he spent a great deal of time in wondering why some of his neighbors had big, bushy tails and some had long, slim tails and why he himself had almost no tail at all. so when paddy the beaver came to live in the green forest, and made a pond there by building a wonderful dam across the laughing brook, the first thing peter looked to see was what kind of a tail paddy has, and the first time he got a good look at it, his eyes popped almost out of his head. he just stared and stared. he hardly noticed the wonderful dam or the equally wonderful canals which paddy had made. all he could think of was that great, broad, flat, thick tail, which is so unlike any tail he had ever seen or heard of. the very next morning he hurried over to the smiling pool to tell grandfather frog about it. grandfather frog's big, goggly eyes twinkled. "chug-a-rum!" said he. "paddy the beaver has one of the most useful tails i know of. would you like to know how he comes by such a queer tail?" [illustration: the first thing peter looked to see was what kind of a tail paddy has.] "oh, if you please! if you please, grandfather frog! i didn't suppose there was such a queer tail in all the world, and i don't see what possible use it can be. do tell me about it!" cried peter. "chug-a-rum! if you had used your eyes when you visited paddy, you might have guessed for yourself how he came by it," replied grandfather frog gruffly. "some people never do learn to use their eyes." peter looked a bit sheepish, but he said nothing and waited patiently. presently grandfather frog cleared his throat two or three times and began to talk. "once upon a time, long, long ago, when the world was young--" "it seems to me that everything wonderful happened long ago when the world was young," interrupted peter. grandfather frog looked at peter severely, and peter hastened to beg his pardon. after a long time grandfather frog began again. "once on a time, long, long ago, lived mr. beaver, the great-great-ever-so-great grandfather of paddy up there in the green forest. old mr. beaver was one of the hardest working of all of old mother nature's big family and one of the smartest, just as paddy is to-day. he always seemed happiest when he was busiest, and because he liked to be happy all the time, he tried to keep busy all the time. "he was very thrifty, was mr. beaver; not at all like some people i know. he believed in preparing to-day for what might happen to-morrow, and so when he had all the food he needed for the present, he stored away food for the time when it might not be so easy to get. and he believed in helping himself, did mr. beaver, and not in leaving everything to old mother nature, as did most of his neighbors. that is how he first came to think of making a dam and a pond. like his small cousin, mr. muskrat, he was very fond of the water, and felt most at home and safest there. but he found that sometimes the food which he liked best, which was the bark of certain kinds of trees, grew some distance from the water, and it was the hardest kind of hard work to roll and drag the logs down to the water, where he could eat the bark from them in safety. "he thought about this a great deal, but instead of going to old mother nature and complaining, as most of his neighbors would have done in his place, he studied and studied to find some way to make the work easier. one day he noticed that a lot of sticks had caught in the stream where he made his home, and that because the water could not work its way between them as fast as where nothing hindered it, it made a little pool just above the sticks. that made him think harder than ever. he brought some of the logs and sticks from which he had gnawed the bark and fastened them with the others, and right away the pool grew bigger. the more sticks he added, the bigger the pool grew. mr. beaver had discovered what a dam is for and how to build it. "'why,' thought he, 'if i make a pond at the place nearest to my food trees, i can carry the water to the trees instead of the trees to the water; and that will be easier and ever so much safer as well.' "so mr. beaver built a dam at just the right place, while all the other little people laughed at him and made fun of him for working so hard. just as he had thought it would do, the dam made a pond, and the pond grew bigger and bigger, until it reached the very place where his food trees grew. mr. beaver built him a big, comfortable house out in the pond, and then he went to work as hard as ever he could to cut down trees and then cut them up into the right sized pieces to store away in his big food pile for the winter. "now cutting down trees is hard work. yes, siree, cutting down trees is the hardest kind of hard work. mr. beaver had to sit up on his hind legs to do it, and his legs grew very, very tired. in those days he had a tail very much like the tail of jerry muskrat. it was very useful when he was swimming, but it was of no use at all at any other time. sometimes he tried to brace himself with it--when he was sitting up to cut trees, and found it of no help. but he didn't complain; he just kept right on working, and only stopped to rest when his legs ached so that he had to. "he was working just as usual one day when old mother nature came along to see how he was getting on. she saw the new dam and the new pond, and she asked mr. beaver who had made them. he told her that he had and explained why. old mother nature was greatly pleased, but she didn't say so. she just passed the time of day with him and then sat down to watch him cut a tree. she saw him try to brace himself with his useless tail, and she saw him stop to rest his tired legs. "'that looks to me like pretty hard work,' said old mother nature. "'so it is,' replied mr. beaver, stretching first one leg and then another. 'but things worth having are worth working for,' and with that he began cutting again. "'you ought to have something to sit on,' said old mother nature, her eyes twinkling. "mr. beaver grinned. 'it would be very nice,' he confessed, 'but i never waste time wishing for things i haven't got and can't get,' and went right on cutting. "the next morning when he awoke, he had the greatest surprise of his life. he had a new tail! it was broad and thick and flat. it wasn't like any tail he had ever seen or heard of. at first he didn't know how to manage it, but when he tried to swim, he found that it was even better than his old tail for swimming. he hurried over to begin his day's work, and there he made another discovery; his new tail was just the most splendid brace! it was almost like a stool to sit on, and he could work all day long without tiring his legs. then was mr. beaver very happy, and to show how happy he was, he worked harder than ever. later, he found that his new tail was just what he needed to pat down the mud with which he covered the roof of his house. "'why,' he cried, 'i believe it is the most useful tail in all the world!' "and then he wished with all his might that old mother nature would return so that he might thank her for it. and that," concluded grandfather frog, "is how mr. beaver came by his broad tail. you see, old mother nature always helps those who help themselves. and ever since that long-ago day, all beavers have had broad tails, and have been the greatest workers in the world." file was made using scans of public domain material from the children's books online rosetta project) [illustration: the balloons floated and filled the sky] rootabaga stories by carl sandburg author of "slabs of the sunburnt west," "smoke and steel," "chicago poems," "cornhuskers" illustrations and decorations by maud and miska petersham [illustration] new york harcourt, brace and company --------------------------------------------------------------------- copyright, 1922, by harcourt, brace and company, inc. printed in the u. s. a. by the quinn & boden company rahway, n j --------------------------------------------------------------------- to spink and skabootch --------------------------------------------------------------------- contents 1. three stories about the finding of the zigzag railroad, the pigs with bibs on, the circus clown ovens, the village of liver-and-onions, the village of cream puffs. how they broke away to go to the rootabaga country 3 how they bring back the village of cream puffs when the wind blows it away 19 how the five rusty rats helped find a new village 29 2. five stories about the potato face blind man the potato face blind man who lost the diamond rabbit on his gold accordion 41 how the potato face blind man enjoyed himself on a fine spring morning 45 poker face the baboon and hot dog the tiger 53 the toboggan-to-the-moon dream of the potato face blind man 59 how gimme the ax found out about the zigzag railroad and who made it zigzag 65 3. three stories about the gold buckskin whincher the story of blixie bimber and the power of the gold buckskin whincher 73 the story of jason squiff and why he had a popcorn hat, popcorn mittens and popcorn shoes 79 the story of rags habakuk, the two blue rats, and the circus man who came with spot cash money 89 4. four stories about the deep doom of dark doorways the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle and who was in it 99 how the hat ashes shovel helped snoo foo 105 three boys with jugs of molasses and secret ambitions 109 how bimbo the snip's thumb stuck to his nose when the wind changed 123 5. three stories about three ways the wind went winding the two skyscrapers who decided to have a child 133 the dollar watch and the five jack rabbits 141 the wooden indian and the shaghorn buffalo 151 6. four stories about dear, dear eyes the white horse girl and the blue wind boy 159 what six girls with balloons told the gray man on horseback 167 how henry hagglyhoagly played the guitar with his mittens on 175 7. one story--"only the fire-born understand blue" never kick a slipper at the moon 185 sand flat shadows 191 8. two stories about corn fairies, blue foxes, flongboos and happenings that happened in the united states and canada how to tell corn fairies if you see 'em 205 how the animals lost their tails and got them back traveling from philadelphia to medicine hat 213 --------------------------------------------------------------------- full-page illustrations page the balloons floated and filled the sky frontispiece he opened the ragbag and took out all the spot cash money 7 then the uncles asked her the first question first 21 they held on to the long curved tails of the rusty rats 33 "i am sure many people will stop and remember the potato face blind man" 47 his hat was popcorn, his mittens popcorn and his shoes popcorn 83 they stepped into the molasses with their bare feet 113 the monkey took the place of the traffic policeman 129 so they stood looking 153 it seemed to him as though the sky came down close to his nose 177 away off where the sun was coming up, there were people and animals 195 there on a high stool in a high tower, on a high hill sits the head spotter of the weather makers 215 ---------------------------------------------------------------------1. three stories about the finding of the zigzag railroad, the pigs with bibs on, the circus clown ovens, the village of liver-and-onions, the village of cream puffs. _people_: gimme the ax please gimme ax me no questions the ticket agent wing tip the spick the four uncles the rat in a blizzard the five rusty rats _more people_: balloon pickers baked clowns polka dot pigs [illustration] how they broke away to go to the rootabaga country gimme the ax lived in a house where everything is the same as it always was. "the chimney sits on top of the house and lets the smoke out," said gimme the ax. "the doorknobs open the doors. the windows are always either open or shut. we are always either upstairs or downstairs in this house. everything is the same as it always was." so he decided to let his children name themselves. "the first words they speak as soon as they learn to make words shall be their names," he said. "they shall name themselves." when the first boy came to the house of gimme the ax, he was named please gimme. when the first girl came she was named ax me no questions. and both of the children had the shadows of valleys by night in their eyes and the lights of early morning, when the sun is coming up, on their foreheads. and the hair on top of their heads was a dark wild grass. and they loved to turn the doorknobs, open the doors, and run out to have the wind comb their hair and touch their eyes and put its six soft fingers on their foreheads. and then because no more boys came and no more girls came, gimme the ax said to himself, "my first boy is my last and my last girl is my first and they picked their names themselves." please gimme grew up and his ears got longer. ax me no questions grew up and her ears got longer. and they kept on living in the house where everything is the same as it always was. they learned to say just as their father said, "the chimney sits on top of the house and lets the smoke out, the doorknobs open the doors, the windows are always either open or shut, we are always either upstairs or downstairs--everything is the same as it always was." after a while they began asking each other in the cool of the evening after they had eggs for breakfast in the morning, "who's who? how much? and what's the answer?" "it is too much to be too long anywhere," said the tough old man, gimme the ax. and please gimme and ax me no questions, the tough son and the tough daughter of gimme the ax, answered their father, "it _is_ too much to be too long anywhere." so they sold everything they had, pigs, pastures, pepper pickers, pitchforks, everything except their ragbags and a few extras. when their neighbors saw them selling everything they had, the different neighbors said, "they are going to kansas, to kokomo, to canada, to kankakee, to kalamazoo, to kamchatka, to the chattahoochee." one little sniffer with his eyes half shut and a mitten on his nose, laughed in his hat five ways and said, "they are going to the moon and when they get there they will find everything is the same as it always was." all the spot cash money he got for selling everything, pigs, pastures, pepper pickers, pitchforks, gimme the ax put in a ragbag and slung on his back like a rag picker going home. then he took please gimme, his oldest and youngest and only son, and ax me no questions, his oldest and youngest and only daughter, and went to the railroad station. the ticket agent was sitting at the window selling railroad tickets the same as always. [illustration: he opened the ragbag and took out all the spot cash money] "do you wish a ticket to go away and come back or do you wish a ticket to go away and _never_ come back?" the ticket agent asked wiping sleep out of his eyes. "we wish a ticket to ride where the railroad tracks run off into the sky and never come back--send us far as the railroad rails go and then forty ways farther yet," was the reply of gimme the ax. "so far? so early? so soon?" asked the ticket agent wiping more sleep out his eyes. "then i will give you a new ticket. it blew in. it is a long slick yellow leather slab ticket with a blue spanch across it." gimme the ax thanked the ticket agent once, thanked the ticket agent twice, and then instead of thanking the ticket agent three times he opened the ragbag and took out all the spot cash money he got for selling everything, pigs, pastures, pepper pickers, pitchforks, and paid the spot cash money to the ticket agent. before he put it in his pocket he looked once, twice, three times at the long yellow leather slab ticket with a blue spanch across it. then with please gimme and ax me no questions he got on the railroad train, showed the conductor his ticket and they started to ride to where the railroad tracks run off into the blue sky and then forty ways farther yet. the train ran on and on. it came to the place where the railroad tracks run off into the blue sky. and it ran on and on chick chick-a-chick chick-a-chick chick-a-chick. sometimes the engineer hooted and tooted the whistle. sometimes the fireman rang the bell. sometimes the open-and-shut of the steam hog's nose choked and spit pfisty-pfoost, pfisty-pfoost, pfisty-pfoost. but no matter what happened to the whistle and the bell and the steam hog, the train ran on and on to where the railroad tracks run off into the blue sky. and then it ran on and on more and more. sometimes gimme the ax looked in his pocket, put his fingers in and took out the long slick yellow leather slab ticket with a blue spanch across it. "not even the kings of egypt with all their climbing camels, and all their speedy, spotted, lucky lizards, ever had a ride like this," he said to his children. then something happened. they met another train running on the same track. one train was going one way. the other was going the other way. they met. they passed each other. "what was it--what happened?" the children asked their father. "one train went over, the other train went under," he answered. "this is the over and under country. nobody gets out of the way of anybody else. they either go over or under." next they came to the country of the balloon pickers. hanging down from the sky strung on strings so fine the eye could not see them at first, was the balloon crop of that summer. the sky was thick with balloons. red, blue, yellow balloons, white, purple and orange balloons--peach, watermelon and potato balloons--rye loaf and wheat loaf balloons--link sausage and pork chop balloons--they floated and filled the sky. the balloon pickers were walking on high stilts picking balloons. each picker had his own stilts, long or short. for picking balloons near the ground he had short stilts. if he wanted to pick far and high he walked on a far and high pair of stilts. baby pickers on baby stilts were picking baby balloons. when they fell off the stilts the handful of balloons they were holding kept them in the air till they got their feet into the stilts again. "who is that away up there in the sky climbing like a bird in the morning?" ax me no questions asked her father. "he was singing too happy," replied the father. "the songs came out of his neck and made him so light the balloons pulled him off his stilts." "will he ever come down again back to his own people?" "yes, his heart will get heavy when his songs are all gone. then he will drop down to his stilts again." the train was running on and on. the engineer hooted and tooted the whistle when he felt like it. the fireman rang the bell when he felt that way. and sometimes the open-and-shut of the steam hog had to go pfisty-pfoost, pfisty-pfoost. "next is the country where the circus clowns come from," said gimme the ax to his son and daughter. "keep your eyes open." they did keep their eyes open. they saw cities with ovens, long and short ovens, fat stubby ovens, lean lank ovens, all for baking either long or short clowns, or fat and stubby or lean and lank clowns. after each clown was baked in the oven it was taken out into the sunshine and put up to stand like a big white doll with a red mouth leaning against the fence. two men came along to each baked clown standing still like a doll. one man threw a bucket of white fire over it. the second man pumped a wind pump with a living red wind through the red mouth. the clown rubbed his eyes, opened his mouth, twisted his neck, wiggled his ears, wriggled his toes, jumped away from the fence and began turning handsprings, cartwheels, somersaults and flipflops in the sawdust ring near the fence. "the next we come to is the rootabaga country where the big city is the village of liver-and-onions," said gimme the ax, looking again in his pocket to be sure he had the long slick yellow leather slab ticket with a blue spanch across it. the train ran on and on till it stopped running straight and began running in zigzags like one letter z put next to another z and the next and the next. the tracks and the rails and the ties and the spikes under the train all stopped being straight and changed to zigzags like one letter z and another letter z put next after the other. "it seems like we go half way and then back up," said ax me no questions. "look out of the window and see if the pigs have bibs on," said gimme the ax. "if the pigs are wearing bibs then this is the rootabaga country." and they looked out of the zigzagging windows of the zigzagging cars and the first pigs they saw had bibs on. and the next pigs and the next pigs they saw all had bibs on. the checker pigs had checker bibs on, the striped pigs had striped bibs on. and the polka dot pigs had polka dot bibs on. "who fixes it for the pigs to have bibs on?" please gimme asked his father. "the fathers and mothers fix it," answered gimme the ax. "the checker pigs have checker fathers and mothers. the striped pigs have striped fathers and mothers. and the polka dot pigs have polka dot fathers and mothers." and the train went zigzagging on and on running on the tracks and the rails and the spikes and the ties which were all zigzag like the letter z and the letter z. and after a while the train zigzagged on into the village of liver-and-onions, known as the biggest city in the big, big rootabaga country. and so if you are going to the rootabaga country you will know when you get there because the railroad tracks change from straight to zigzag, the pigs have bibs on and it is the fathers and mothers who fix it. and if you start to go to that country remember first you must sell everything you have, pigs, pastures, pepper pickers, pitchforks, put the spot cash money in a ragbag and go to the railroad station and ask the ticket agent for a long slick yellow leather slab ticket with a blue spanch across it. and you mustn't be surprised if the ticket agent wipes sleep from his eyes and asks, "so far? so early? so soon?" [illustration] [illustration] how they bring back the village of cream puffs when the wind blows it away a girl named wing tip the spick came to the village of liver-and-onions to visit her uncle and her uncle's uncle on her mother's side and her uncle and her uncle's uncle on her father's side. it was the first time the four uncles had a chance to see their little relation, their niece. each one of the four uncles was proud of the blue eyes of wing tip the spick. the two uncles on her mother's side took a long deep look into her blue eyes and said, "her eyes are so blue, such a clear light blue, they are the same as cornflowers with blue raindrops shining and dancing on silver leaves after a sun shower in any of the summer months." and the two uncles on her father's side, after taking a long deep look into the eyes of wing tip the spick, said, "her eyes are so blue, such a clear light shining blue, they are the same as cornflowers with blue raindrops shining and dancing on the silver leaves after a sun shower in any of the summer months." and though wing tip the spick didn't listen and didn't hear what the uncles said about her blue eyes, she did say to herself when they were not listening, "i know these are sweet uncles and i am going to have a sweet time visiting my relations." the four uncles said to her, "will you let us ask you two questions, first the first question and second the second question?" [illustration: then the uncles asked her the first question first] "i will let you ask me fifty questions this morning, fifty questions to-morrow morning, and fifty questions any morning. i like to listen to questions. they slip in one ear and slip out of the other." then the uncles asked her the first question first, "where do you come from?" and the second question second, "why do you have two freckles on your chin?" "answering your first question first," said wing tip the spick, "i come from the village of cream puffs, a little light village on the upland corn prairie. from a long ways off it looks like a little hat you could wear on the end of your thumb to keep the rain off your thumb." "tell us more," said one uncle. "tell us much," said another uncle. "tell it without stopping," added another uncle. "interruptions nix nix," murmured the last of the uncles. "it is a light little village on the upland corn prairie many miles past the sunset in the west," went on wing tip the spick. "it is light the same as a cream puff is light. it sits all by itself on the big long prairie where the prairie goes up in a slope. there on the slope the winds play around the village. they sing it wind songs, summer wind songs in summer, winter wind songs in winter." "and sometimes like an accident, the wind gets rough. and when the wind gets rough it picks up the little village of cream puffs and blows it away off in the sky--all by itself." "o-o-h-h," said one uncle. "um-m-m-m," said the other three uncles. "now the people in the village all understand the winds with their wind songs in summer and winter. and they understand the rough wind who comes sometimes and picks up the village and blows it away off high in the sky all by itself. "if you go to the public square in the middle of the village you will see a big roundhouse. if you take the top off the roundhouse you will see a big spool with a long string winding up around the spool. "now whenever the rough wind comes and picks up the village and blows it away off high in the sky all by itself then the string winds loose of the spool, because the village is fastened to the string. so the rough wind blows and blows and the string on the spool winds looser and looser the farther the village goes blowing away off into the sky all by itself. "then at last when the rough wind, so forgetful, so careless, has had all the fun it wants, then the people of the village all come together and begin to wind up the spool and bring back the village where it was before." "o-o-h-h," said one uncle. "um-m-m-m," said the other three uncles. "and sometimes when you come to the village to see your little relation, your niece who has four such sweet uncles, maybe she will lead you through the middle of the city to the public square and show you the roundhouse. they call it the roundhouse of the big spool. and they are proud because it was thought up and is there to show when visitors come." "and now will you answer the second question second--why do you have two freckles on your chin?" interrupted the uncle who had said before, "interruptions nix nix." "the freckles are put on," answered wing tip the spick. "when a girl goes away from the village of cream puffs her mother puts on two freckles, on the chin. each freckle must be the same as a little burnt cream puff kept in the oven too long. after the two freckles looking like two little burnt cream puffs are put on her chin, they remind the girl every morning when she combs her hair and looks in the looking glass. they remind her where she came from and she mustn't stay away too long." "o-h-h-h," said one uncle. "um-m-m-m," said the other three uncles. and they talked among each other afterward, the four uncles by themselves, saying: "she has a gift. it is her eyes. they are so blue, such a clear light blue, the same as cornflowers with blue raindrops shining and dancing on silver leaves after a sun shower in any of the summer months." at the same time wing tip the spick was saying to herself, "i know for sure now these are sweet uncles and i am going to have a sweet time visiting my relations." [illustration] [illustration] how the five rusty rats helped find a new village one day while wing tip the spick was visiting her four uncles in the village of liver-and-onions, a blizzard came up. snow filled the sky and the wind blew and made a noise like heavy wagon axles grinding and crying. and on this day a gray rat came to the house of the four uncles, a rat with gray skin and gray hair, gray as the gray gravy on a beefsteak. the rat had a basket. in the basket was a catfish. and the rat said, "please let me have a little fire and a little salt as i wish to make a little bowl of hot catfish soup to keep me warm through the blizzard." and the four uncles all said together, "this is no time for rats to be around--and we would like to ask you where you got the catfish in the basket." "oh, oh, oh, please--in the name of the five rusty rats, the five lucky rats of the village of cream puffs, please don't," was the exclamation of wing tip the spick. the uncles stopped. they looked long and deep into the eyes of wing tip the spick and thought, as they had thought before, how her eyes were clear light blue the same as cornflowers with blue raindrops shining on the silver leaves in a summer sun shower. and the four uncles opened the door and let the gray rat come in with the basket and the catfish. they showed the gray rat the way to the kitchen and the fire and the salt. and they watched the rat and kept him company while he fixed himself a catfish soup to keep him warm traveling through the blizzard with the sky full of snow. after they opened the front door and let the rat out and said good-by, they turned to wing tip the spick and asked her to tell them about the five rusty lucky rats of the village of cream puffs where she lived with her father and her mother and her folks. "when i was a little girl growing up, before i learned all i learned since i got older, my grandfather gave me a birthday present because i was nine years old. i remember how he said to me, 'you will never be nine years old again after this birthday, so i give you this box for a birthday present.' "in the box was a pair of red slippers with a gold clock on each slipper. one of the clocks ran fast. the other clock ran slow. and he told me if i wished to be early anywhere i should go by the clock that ran fast. and if i wished to be late anywhere i should go by the clock that ran slow. "and that same birthday he took me down through the middle of the village of cream puffs to the public square near the roundhouse of the big spool. there he pointed his finger at the statue of the five rusty rats, the five lucky rats. and as near as i can remember his words, he said: "'many years ago, long before the snow birds began to wear funny little slip-on hats and funny little slip-on shoes, and away back long before the snow birds learned how to slip off their slip-on hats and how to slip off their slip-on shoes, long ago in the faraway village of liver-and-onions, the people who ate cream puffs came together and met in the streets and picked up their baggage and put their belongings on their shoulders and marched out of the village of liver-and-onions saying, "we shall find a new place for a village and the name of it shall be the village of cream puffs. [illustration: they held on to the long curved tails of the rusty rats] "'they marched out on the prairie with their baggage and belongings in sacks on their shoulders. and a blizzard came up. snow filled the sky. the wind blew and blew and made a noise like heavy wagon axles grinding and crying. "'the snow came on. the wind twisted all day and all night and all the next day. the wind changed black and twisted and spit icicles in their faces. they got lost in the blizzard. they expected to die and be buried in the snow for the wolves to come and eat them. "'then the five lucky rats came, the five rusty rats, rust on their skin and hair, rust on their feet and noses, rust all over, and especially, most especially of all, rust on their long curved tails. they dug their noses down into the snow and their long curved tails stuck up far above the snow where the people who were lost in the blizzard could take hold of the tails like handles. "'and so, while the wind and the snow blew and the blizzard beat its icicles in their faces, they held on to the long curved tails of the rusty rats till they came to the place where the village of cream puffs now stands. it was the rusty rats who saved their lives and showed them where to put their new village. that is why this statue now stands in the public square, this statue of the shapes of the five rusty rats, the five lucky rats with their noses down in the snow and their long curved tails lifted high out of the snow.' "that is the story as my grandfather told it to me. and he said it happened long ago, long before the snow birds began to wear slip-on hats and slip-on shoes, long before they learned how to slip off the slip-on hats and to slip off the slip-on shoes." "o-h-h-h," said one of the uncles. "um-m-m-m," said the other three uncles. "and sometime," added wing tip the spick, "when you go away from the village of liver-and-onions and cross the shampoo river and ride many miles across the upland prairie till you come to the village of cream puffs, you will find a girl there who loves four uncles very much. "and if you ask her politely, she will show you the red slippers with gold clocks on them, one clock to be early by, the other to be late by. and if you are still more polite she will take you through the middle of the town to the public square and show you the statue of the five rusty lucky rats with their long curved tails sticking up in the air like handles. and the tails are curved so long and so nice you will feel like going up and taking hold of them to see what will happen to you." [illustration] ---------------------------------------------------------------------2. five stories about the potato face blind man _people_: the potato face blind man any ice today pick ups lizzie lazarus poker face the baboon hot dog the tiger whitson whimble a man shoveling money a watermelon moon white gold boys blue silver girls big white moon spiders zizzies gimme the ax again [illustration] the potato face blind man who lost the diamond rabbit on his gold accordion there was a potato face blind man used to play an accordion on the main street corner nearest the postoffice in the village of liver-and-onions. any ice today came along and said, "it looks like it used to be an 18 carat gold accordion with rich pawnshop diamonds in it; it looks like it used to be a grand accordion once and not so grand now." "oh, yes, oh, yes, it was gold all over on the outside," said the potato face blind man, "and there was a diamond rabbit next to the handles on each side, two diamond rabbits." "how do you mean diamond rabbits?" any ice today asked. "ears, legs, head, feet, ribs, tail, all fixed out in diamonds to make a nice rabbit with his diamond chin on his diamond toenails. when i play good pieces so people cry hearing my accordion music, then i put my fingers over and feel of the rabbit's diamond chin on his diamond toenails, 'attaboy, li'l bunny, attaboy, li'l bunny.'" "yes i hear you talking but it is like dream talking. i wonder why your accordion looks like somebody stole it and took it to a pawnshop and took it out and somebody stole it again and took it to a pawnshop and took it out and somebody stole it again. and they kept on stealing it and taking it out of the pawnshop and stealing it again till the gold wore off so it looks like a used-to-be-yesterday." "oh, yes, o-h, y-e-s, you are right. it is not like the accordion it used to be. it knows more knowledge than it used to know just the same as this potato face blind man knows more knowledge than he used to know." "tell me about it," said any ice today. "it is simple. if a blind man plays an accordion on the street to make people cry it makes them sad and when they are sad the gold goes away off the accordion. and if a blind man goes to sleep because his music is full of sleepy songs like the long wind in a sleepy valley, then while the blind man is sleeping the diamonds in the diamond rabbit all go away. i play a sleepy song and go to sleep and i wake up and the diamond ear of the diamond rabbit is gone. i play another sleepy song and go to sleep and wake up and the diamond tail of the diamond rabbit is gone. after a while all the diamond rabbits are gone, even the diamond chin sitting on the diamond toenails of the rabbits next to the handles of the accordion, even those are gone." "is there anything i can do?" asked any ice today. "i do it myself," said the potato face blind man. "if i am too sorry i just play the sleepy song of the long wind going up the sleepy valleys. and that carries me away where i have time and money to dream about the new wonderful accordions and postoffices where everybody that gets a letter and everybody that don't get a letter stops and remembers the potato face blind man." [illustration] [illustration] how the potato face blind man enjoyed himself on a fine spring morning on a friday morning when the flummywisters were yodeling yisters high in the elm trees, the potato face blind man came down to his work sitting at the corner nearest the postoffice in the village of liver-and-onions and playing his gold-that-used-to-be accordion for the pleasure of the ears of the people going into the postoffice to see if they got any letters for themselves or their families. "it is a good day, a lucky day," said the potato face blind man, "because for a beginning i have heard high in the elm trees the flummywisters yodeling their yisters in the long branches of the lingering leaves. so--so--i am going to listen to myself playing on my accordion the same yisters, the same yodels, drawing them like long glad breathings out of my glad accordion, long breathings of the branches of the lingering leaves." and he sat down in his chair. on the sleeve of his coat he tied a sign, "i am blind _too_." on the top button of his coat he hung a little thimble. on the bottom button of his coat he hung a tin copper cup. on the middle button he hung a wooden mug. by the side of him on the left side on the sidewalk he put a galvanized iron washtub, and on the right side an aluminum dishpan. "it is a good day, a lucky day, and i am sure many people will stop and remember the potato face blind man," he sang to himself like a little song as he began running his fingers up and down the keys of the accordion like the yisters of the lingering leaves in the elm trees. [illustration: "i am sure many people will stop and remember the potato face blind man"] then came pick ups. always it happened pick ups asked questions and wished to know. and so this is how the questions and answers ran when the potato face filled the ears of pick ups with explanations. "what is the piece you are playing on the keys of your accordion so fast sometimes, so slow sometimes, so sad some of the moments, so glad some of the moments?" "it is the song the mama flummywisters sing when they button loose the winter underwear of the baby flummywisters and sing: "fly, you little flummies, sing, you little wisters." "and why do you have a little thimble on the top button of your coat?" "that is for the dimes to be put in. some people see it and say, 'oh, i must put in a whole thimbleful of dimes.'" "and the tin copper cup?" "that is for the base ball players to stand off ten feet and throw in nickels and pennies. the one who throws the most into the cup will be the most lucky." "and the wooden mug?" "there is a hole in the bottom of it. the hole is as big as the bottom. the nickel goes in and comes out again. it is for the very poor people who wish to give me a nickel and yet get the nickel back." "the aluminum dishpan and the galvanized iron washtub--what are they doing by the side of you on both sides on the sidewalk?" "sometime maybe it will happen everybody who goes into the postoffice and comes out will stop and pour out all their money, because they might get afraid their money is no good any more. if such a happening ever happens then it will be nice for the people to have some place to pour their money. such is the explanation why you see the aluminum dishpan and galvanized iron tub." "explain your sign--why is it, 'i am blind _too_.'" "oh, i am sorry to explain to you, pick ups, why this is so which. some of the people who pass by here going into the postoffice and coming out, they have eyes--but they see nothing with their eyes. they look where they are going and they get where they wish to get, but they forget why they came and they do not know how to come away. they are my blind brothers. it is for them i have the sign that reads, 'i am blind _too_.'" "i have my ears full of explanations and i thank you," said pick ups. "good-by," said the potato face blind man as he began drawing long breathings like lingering leaves out of the accordion--along with the song the mama flummywisters sing when they button loose the winter underwear of the baby flummywisters. [illustration] poker face the baboon and hot dog the tiger when the moon has a green rim with red meat inside and black seeds on the red meat, then in the rootabaga country they call it a watermelon moon and look for anything to happen. it was a night when a watermelon moon was shining. lizzie lazarus came to the upstairs room of the potato face blind man. poker face the baboon and hot dog the tiger were with her. she was leading them with a pink string. "you see they are wearing pajamas," she said. "they sleep with you to-night and to-morrow they go to work with you like mascots." "how like mascots?" asked the potato face blind man. "they are luck bringers. they keep your good luck if it is good. they change your bad luck if it is bad." "i hear you and my ears get your explanations." so the next morning when the potato face blind man sat down to play his accordion on the corner nearest the postoffice in the village of liver-and-onions, next to him on the right hand side sitting on the sidewalk was poker face the baboon and on the left hand side sitting next to him was hot dog the tiger. they looked like dummies--they were so quiet. they looked as if they were made of wood and paper and then painted. in the eyes of poker face was something faraway. in the eyes of hot dog was something hungry. whitson whimble, the patent clothes wringer manufacturer, came by in his big limousine automobile car without horses to pull it. he was sitting back on the leather upholstered seat cushions. "stop here," he commanded the chauffeur driving the car. then whitson whimble sat looking. first he looked into the eyes of poker face the baboon and saw something faraway. then he looked into the eyes of hot dog the tiger and saw something hungry. then he read the sign painted by the potato face blind man saying, "you look at 'em and see 'em; i look at 'em and i don't. you watch what their eyes say; i can only feel their hair." then whitson whimble commanded the chauffeur driving the car, "go on." fifteen minutes later a man in overalls came down main street with a wheelbarrow. he stopped in front of the potato face blind man, poker face the baboon, and hot dog the tiger. "where is the aluminum dishpan?" he asked. "on my left side on the sidewalk," answered the potato face blind man. "where is the galvanized iron washtub?" "on my right side on the sidewalk." then the man in overalls took a shovel and began shoveling silver dollars out of the wheelbarrow into the aluminum dishpan and the galvanized iron washtub. he shoveled out of the wheelbarrow till the dishpan was full, till the washtub was full. then he put the shovel into the wheelbarrow and went up main street. six o'clock that night pick ups came along. the potato face blind man said to him, "i have to carry home a heavy load of money to-night, an aluminum dishpan full of silver dollars and a galvanized iron washtub full of silver dollars. so i ask you, will you take care of poker face the baboon and hot dog the tiger?" "yes," said pick ups, "i will." and he did. he tied a pink string to their legs and took them home and put them in the woodshed. poker face the baboon went to sleep on the soft coal at the north end of the woodshed and when he was asleep his face had something faraway in it and he was so quiet he looked like a dummy with brown hair of the jungle painted on his black skin and a black nose painted on his brown face. hot dog the tiger went to sleep on the hard coal at the south end of the woodshed and when he was asleep his eyelashes had something hungry in them and he looked like a painted dummy with black stripes painted over his yellow belly and a black spot painted away at the end of his long yellow tail. in the morning the woodshed was empty. pick ups told the potato face blind man, "they left a note in their own handwriting on perfumed pink paper. it said, '_mascots never stay long_.'" and that is why for many years the potato face blind man had silver dollars to spend--and that is why many people in the rootabaga country keep their eyes open for a watermelon moon in the sky with a green rim and red meat inside and black seeds making spots on the red meat. [illustration] [illustration] the toboggan-to-the-moon dream of the potato face blind man one morning in october the potato face blind man sat on the corner nearest the postoffice. any ice today came along and said, "this is the sad time of the year." "sad?" asked the potato face blind man, changing his accordion from his right knee to his left knee, and singing softly to the tune he was fumbling on the accordion keys, "be happy in the morning when the birds bring the beans." "yes," said any ice today, "is it not sad every year when the leaves change from green to yellow, when the leaves dry on the branches and fall into the air, and the wind blows them and they make a song saying, 'hush baby, hush baby,' and the wind fills the sky with them and they are like a sky full of birds who forget they know any songs." "it is sad and not sad," was the blind man's word. "listen," said the potato face. "for me this is the time of the year when the dream of the white moon toboggan comes back. five weeks before the first snow flurry this dream always comes back to me. it says, 'the black leaves are falling now and they fill the sky but five weeks go by and then for every black leaf there will be a thousand snow crystals shining white.'" "what was your dream of the white moon toboggan?" asked any ice today. "it came to me first when i was a boy, when i had my eyes, before my luck changed. i saw the big white spiders of the moon working, rushing around climbing up, climbing down, snizzling and sniffering. i looked a long while before i saw what the big white spiders on the moon were doing. i saw after a while they were weaving a long toboggan, a white toboggan, white and soft as snow. and after a long while of snizzling and sniffering, climbing up and climbing down, at last the toboggan was done, a snow white toboggan running from the moon down to the rootabaga country. "and sliding, sliding down from the moon on this toboggan were the white gold boys and the blue silver girls. they tumbled down at my feet because, you see, the toboggan ended right at my feet. i could lean over and pick up the white gold boys and the blue silver girls as they slid out of the toboggan at my feet. i could pick up a whole handful of them and hold them in my hand and talk with them. yet, you understand, whenever i tried to shut my hand and keep any of them they would snizzle and sniffer and jump out of the cracks between my fingers. once there was a little gold and silver dust on my left hand thumb, dust they snizzled out while slipping away from me. "once i heard a white gold boy and a blue silver girl whispering. they were standing on the tip of my right hand little finger, whispering. one said, 'i got pumpkins--what did you get?' the other said, 'i got hazel nuts.' i listened more and i found out there are millions of pumpkins and millions of hazel nuts so small you and i can not see them. these children from the moon, however, they can see them and whenever they slide down on the moon toboggan they take back their pockets full of things so little we have never seen them." "they are wonderful children," said any ice today. "and will you tell me how they get back to the moon after they slide down the toboggan?" "oh, that is easy," said potato face. "it is just as easy for them to slide _up_ to the moon as to slide down. sliding up and sliding down is the same for them. the big white spiders fixed it that way when they snizzled and sniffered and made the toboggan." [illustration] how gimme the ax found out about the zigzag railroad and who made it zigzag one day gimme the ax said to himself, "today i go to the postoffice and around, looking around. maybe i will hear about something happening last night when i was sleeping. maybe a policeman began laughing and fell in a cistern and came out with a wheelbarrow full of goldfish wearing new jewelry. how do i know? maybe the man in the moon going down a cellar stairs to get a pitcher of butter-milk for the woman in the moon to drink and stop crying, maybe he fell down the stairs and broke the pitcher and laughed and picked up the broken pieces and said to himself, 'one, two, three, four, accidents happen in the best regulated families.' how do i know?" so with his mind full of simple and refreshing thoughts, gimme the ax went out into the backyard garden and looked at the different necktie poppies growing early in the summer. then he picked one of the necktie poppies to wear for a necktie scarf going downtown to the postoffice and around looking around. "it is a good speculation to look nice around looking around in a necktie scarf," said gimme the ax. "it is a necktie with a picture like whiteface pony spots on a green frog swimming in the moonshine." so he went downtown. for the first time he saw the potato face blind man playing an accordion on the corner next nearest the postoffice. he asked the potato face to tell him why the railroad tracks run zigzag in the rootabaga country. "long ago," said the potato face blind man, "long before the necktie poppies began growing in the backyard, long before there was a necktie scarf like yours with whiteface pony spots on a green frog swimming in the moonshine, back in the old days when they laid the rails for the railroad they laid the rails straight." "then the zizzies came. the zizzy is a bug. he runs zigzag on zigzag legs, eats zigzag with zigzag teeth, and spits zigzag with a zigzag tongue. "millions of zizzies came hizzing with little hizzers on their heads and under their legs. they jumped on the rails with their zigzag legs, and spit and twisted with their zigzag teeth and tongues till they twisted the whole railroad and all the rails and tracks into a zigzag railroad with zigzag rails for the trains, the passenger trains and the freight trains, all to run zigzag on. "then the zizzies crept away into the fields where they sleep and cover themselves with zigzag blankets on special zigzag beds. "next day came shovelmen with their shovels, smooth engineers with smooth blue prints, and water boys with water pails and water dippers for the shovelmen to drink after shoveling the railroad straight. and i nearly forgot to say the steam and hoist operating engineers came and began their steam hoist and operating to make the railroad straight. "they worked hard. they made the railroad straight again. they looked at the job and said to themselves and to each other, 'this is it--we done it.' "next morning the zizzies opened their zigzag eyes and looked over to the railroad and the rails. when they saw the railroad all straight again, and the rails and the ties and the spikes all straight again, the zizzies didn't even eat breakfast that morning. "they jumped out of their zigzag beds, jumped onto the rails with their zigzag legs and spit and twisted till they spit and twisted all the rails and the ties and the spikes back into a zigzag like the letter z and the letter z at the end of the alphabet. "after that the zizzies went to breakfast. and they said to themselves and to each other, the same as the shovelmen, the smooth engineers and the steam hoist and operating engineers, 'this is it--we done it.'" "so that is the how of the which--it was the zizzies," said gimme the ax. "yes, it was the zizzies," said the potato face blind man. "that is the story told to me." "who told it to you?" "_two little zizzies._ they came to me one cold winter night and slept in my accordion where the music keeps it warm in winter. in the morning i said, 'good morning, zizzies, did you have a good sleep last night and pleasant dreams?' and after they had breakfast they told me the story. both told it zigzag but it was the same kind of zigzag each had together." [illustration] ---------------------------------------------------------------------3. three stories about the gold buckskin whincher _people_: blixie bimber peter potato blossom wishes jimmie the flea silas baxby fritz axenbax james sixbixdix jason squiff, the cistern cleaner rags habakuk, the rag man two daughters of the rag man two blue rats a circus man with spot cash a moving picture actor a taxicab driver [illustration] the story of blixie bimber and the power of the gold buckskin whincher blixie bimber grew up looking for luck. if she found a horseshoe she took it home and put it on the wall of her room with a ribbon tied to it. she would look at the moon through her fingers, under her arms, over her right shoulder but never--never over her _left_ shoulder. she listened and picked up everything anybody said about the ground hog and whether the ground hog saw his shadow when he came out the second of february. if she dreamed of onions she knew the next day she would find a silver spoon. if she dreamed of fishes she knew the next day she would meet a strange man who would call her by her first name. she grew up looking for luck. she was sixteen years old and quite a girl, with her skirts down to her shoe tops, when something happened. she was going to the postoffice to see if there was a letter for her from peter potato blossom wishes, her best chum, or a letter from jimmy the flea, her best friend she kept steady company with. jimmy the flea was a climber. he climbed skyscrapers and flagpoles and smokestacks and was a famous steeplejack. blixie bimber liked him because he was a steeplejack, a little, but more because he was a whistler. every time blixie said to jimmy, "i got the blues--whistle the blues out of me," jimmy would just naturally whistle till the blues just naturally went away from blixie. on the way to the postoffice, blixie found a gold buckskin _whincher_. there it lay in the middle of the sidewalk. how and why it came to be there she never knew and nobody ever told her. "it's luck," she said to herself as she picked it up quick. and so--she took it home and fixed it on a little chain and wore it around her neck. she did not know and nobody ever told her a gold buckskin whincher is different from just a plain common whincher. it has a _power_. and if a thing has a power over you then you just naturally can't help yourself. so--around her neck fixed on a little chain blixie bimber wore the gold buckskin whincher and never knew it had a power and all the time the power was working. "the first man you meet with an x in his name you must fall head over heels in love with him," said the silent power in the gold buckskin whincher. and that was why blixie bimber stopped at the postoffice and went back again asking the clerk at the postoffice window if he was sure there wasn't a letter for her. the name of the clerk was silas baxby. for six weeks he kept steady company with blixie bimber. they went to dances, hayrack rides, picnics and high jinks together. all the time the power in the gold buckskin whincher was working. it was hanging by a little chain around her neck and always working. it was saying, "the next man you meet with two x's in his name you must leave all and fall head over heels in love with him." she met the high school principal. his name was fritz axenbax. blixie dropped her eyes before him and threw smiles at him. and for six weeks he kept steady company with blixie bimber. they went to dances, hayrack rides, picnics and high jinks together. "why do you go with him for steady company?" her relatives asked. "it's a power he's got," blixie answered, "i just can't help it--it's a power." "one of his feet is bigger than the other--how can you keep steady company with him?" they asked again. all she would answer was, "it's a power." all the time, of course, the gold buckskin whincher on the little chain around her neck was working. it was saying, "if she meets a man with three x's in his name she must fall head over heels in love with him." at a band concert in the public square one night she met james sixbixdix. there was no helping it. she dropped her eyes and threw her smiles at him. and for six weeks they kept steady company going to band concerts, dances, hayrack rides, picnics and high jinks together. "why do you keep steady company with him? he's a musical soup eater," her relatives said to her. and she answered, "it's a power--i can't help myself." leaning down with her head in a rain water cistern one day, listening to the echoes against the strange wooden walls of the cistern, the gold buckskin whincher on the little chain around her neck slipped off and fell down into the rain water. "my luck is gone," said blixie. then she went into the house and made two telephone calls. one was to james sixbixdix telling him she couldn't keep the date with him that night. the other was to jimmy the flea, the climber, the steeplejack. "come on over--i got the blues and i want you to whistle 'em away," was what she telephoned jimmy the flea. and so--if you ever come across a gold buckskin whincher, be careful. it's got a power. it'll make you fall head over heels in love with the next man you meet with an x in his name. or it will do other strange things because different whinchers have different powers. [illustration] the story of jason squiff and why he had a popcorn hat, popcorn mittens and popcorn shoes jason squiff was a cistern cleaner. he had greenish yellowish hair. if you looked down into a cistern when he was lifting buckets of slush and mud you could tell where he was, you could pick him out down in the dark cistern, by the lights of his greenish yellowish hair. sometimes the buckets of slush and mud tipped over and ran down on the top of his head. this covered his greenish yellowish hair. and then it was hard to tell where he was and it was not easy to pick him out down in the dark where he was cleaning the cistern. one day jason squiff came to the bimber house and knocked on the door. "did i understand," he said, speaking to mrs. bimber, blixie bimber's mother, "do i understand you sent for me to clean the cistern in your back yard?" "you understand exactly such," said mrs. bimber, "and you are welcome as the flowers that bloom in the spring, tra-la-la." "then i will go to work and clean the cistern, tra-la-la," he answered, speaking to mrs. bimber. "i'm the guy, tra-la-la," he said further, running his excellent fingers through his greenish yellowish hair which was shining brightly. he began cleaning the cistern. blixie bimber came out in the back yard. she looked down in the cistern. it was all dark. it looked like nothing but all dark down there. by and by she saw something greenish yellowish. she watched it. soon she saw it was jason squiff's head and hair. and then she knew the cistern was being cleaned and jason squiff was on the job. so she sang tra-la-la and went back into the house and told her mother jason squiff was on the job. the last bucketful of slush and mud came at last for jason squiff. he squinted at the bottom. something was shining. he reached his fingers down through the slush and mud and took out what was shining. it was the gold buckskin whincher blixie bimber lost from the gold chain around her neck the week before when she was looking down into the cistern to see what she could see. it was exactly the same gold buckskin whincher shining and glittering like a sign of happiness. "it's luck," said jason squiff, wiping his fingers on his greenish yellowish hair. then he put the gold buckskin whincher in his vest pocket and spoke to himself again, "it's luck." a little after six o'clock that night jason squiff stepped into his house and home and said hello to his wife and daughters. they all began to laugh. their laughter was a ticklish laughter. "something funny is happening," he said. "and you are it," they all laughed at him again with ticklish laughter. then they showed him. his hat was popcorn, his mittens popcorn and his shoes popcorn. he didn't know the gold buckskin whincher had a power and was working all the time. he didn't know the whincher in his vest pocket was saying, "you have a letter q in your name and because you have the pleasure and happiness of having a q in your name you must have a popcorn hat, popcorn mittens and popcorn shoes." the next morning he put on another hat, another pair of mittens and another pair of shoes. and the minute he put them on they changed to popcorn. so he tried on all his hats, mittens and shoes. always they changed to popcorn the minute he had them on. [illustration: his hat was popcorn, his mittens popcorn and his shoes popcorn] he went downtown to the stores. he bought a new hat, mittens and shoes. and the minute he had them on they changed to popcorn. so he decided he would go to work and clean cisterns with his popcorn hat, popcorn mittens and popcorn shoes on. the people of the village of cream puffs enjoyed watching him walk up the street, going to clean cisterns. people five and six blocks away could see him coming and going with his popcorn hat, popcorn mittens and popcorn shoes. when he was down in a cistern the children enjoyed looking down into the cistern to see him work. when none of the slush and mud fell on his hat and mittens he was easy to find. the light of the shining popcorn lit up the whole inside of the cistern. sometimes, of course, the white popcorn got full of black slush and black mud. and then when jason squiff came up and walked home he was not quite so dazzling to look at. it was a funny winter for jason squiff. "it's a crime, a dirty crime," he said to himself. "now i can never be alone with my thoughts. everybody looks at me when i go up the street." "if i meet a funeral even the pall bearers begin to laugh at my popcorn hat. if i meet people going to a wedding they throw all the rice at me as if i am a bride and a groom all together. "the horses try to eat my hat wherever i go. three hats i have fed to horses this winter. "and if i accidentally drop one of my mittens the chickens eat it." then jason squiff began to change. he became proud. "i always wanted a white beautiful hat like this white popcorn hat," he said to himself. "and i always wanted white beautiful mittens and white beautiful shoes like these white popcorn mittens and shoes." when the boys yelled, "snow man! yah-de-dah-de-dah, snow man!" he just waved his hand to them with an upward gesture of his arm to show he was proud of how he looked. "they all watch for me," he said to himself, "i am distinquished--am i not?" he asked himself. and he put his right hand into his left hand and shook hands with himself and said, "you certainly look fixed up." one day he decided to throw away his vest. in the vest pocket was the gold buckskin whincher, with the power working, the power saying, "you have a letter q in your name and because you have the pleasure and happiness of having a q in your name you must have a popcorn hat, popcorn mittens and popcorn shoes." yes, he threw away the vest. he forgot all about the gold buckskin whincher being in the vest. he just handed the vest to a rag man. and the rag man put the vest with the gold buckskin whincher in a bag on his back and walked away. after that jason squiff was like other people. his hats would never change to popcorn nor his mittens to popcorn nor his shoes to popcorn. and when anybody looked at him down in a cistern cleaning the cistern or when anybody saw him walking along the street they knew him by his greenish yellowish hair which was always full of bright lights. and so--if you have a q in your name, be careful if you ever come across a gold buckskin whincher. remember different whinchers have different powers. [illustration] the story of rags habakuk, the two blue rats, and the circus man who came with spot cash money rags habakuk was going home. his day's work was done. the sun was down. street lamps began shining. burglars were starting on their night's work. it was no time for an honest ragman to be knocking on people's back doors, saying, "any rags?" or else saying, "any rags? any bottles? any bones?" or else saying "any rags? any bottles? any bones? any old iron? any copper, brass, old shoes all run down and no good to anybody to-day? any old clothes, old coats, pants, vests? i take any old clothes you got." yes, rags habakuk was going home. in the gunnysack bag on his back, humped up on top of the rag humps in the bag, was an old vest. it was the same old vest jason squiff threw out of a door at rags habakuk. in the pocket of the vest was the gold buckskin whincher with a power in it. well, rags habakuk got home just like always, sat down to supper and smacked his mouth and had a big supper of fish, just like always. then he went out to a shanty in the back yard and opened up the gunnysack rag bag and fixed things out classified just like every day when he came home he opened the gunnysack bag and fixed things out classified. the last thing of all he fixed out classified was the vest with the gold buckskin whincher in the pocket. "put it on--it's a glad rag," he said, looking at the vest. "it's a lucky vest." so he put his right arm in the right armhole and his left arm in the left armhole. and there he was with his arms in the armholes of the old vest all fixed out classified new. next morning rags habakuk kissed his wife g'by and his eighteen year old girl g'by and his nineteen year old girl g'by. he kissed them just like he always kissed them--in a hurry--and as he kissed each one he said, "i will be back soon if not sooner and when i come back i will return." yes, up the street went rags habakuk. and soon as he left home something happened. standing on his right shoulder was a blue rat and standing on his left shoulder was a blue rat. the only way he knew they were there was by looking at them. there they were, close to his ears. he could feel the far edge of their whiskers against his ears. "this never happened to me before all the time i been picking rags," he said. "two blue rats stand by my ears and never say anything even if they know i am listening to anything they tell me." so rags habakuk walked on two blocks, three blocks, four blocks, squinting with his right eye slanting at the blue rat on his right shoulder and squinting with his left eye slanting at the blue rat on his left shoulder. "if i stood on somebody's shoulder with my whiskers right up in somebody's ear i would say something for somebody to listen to," he muttered. of course, he did not understand it was the gold buckskin whincher and the power working. down in the pocket of the vest he had on, the gold buckskin whincher power was saying, "because you have two k's in your name you must have two blue rats on your shoulders, one blue rat for your right ear, one blue rat for your left ear." it was good business. never before did rags habakuk get so much old rags. "come again--you and your lucky blue rats," people said to him. they dug into their cellars and garrets and brought him bottles and bones and copper and brass and old shoes and old clothes, coats, pants, vests. every morning when he went up the street with the two blue rats on his shoulders, blinking their eyes straight ahead and chewing their whiskers so they sometimes tickled the ears of old rags habakuk, sometimes women came running out on the front porch to look at him and say, "well, if he isn't a queer old mysterious ragman and if those ain't queer old mysterious blue rats!" all the time the gold buckskin whincher and the power was working. it was saying, "so long as old rags habakuk keeps the two blue rats he shall have good luck--but if he ever sells one of the blue rats then one of his daughters shall marry a taxicab driver--and if he ever sells the other blue rat then his other daughter shall marry a moving-picture hero actor." then terrible things happened. a circus man came. "i give you one thousand dollars spot cash money for one of the blue rats," he expostulated with his mouth. "and i give you two thousand dollars spot cash money for the two of the blue rats both of them together." "show me how much spot cash money two thousand dollars is all counted out in one pile for one man to carry away home in his gunnysack rag bag," was the answer of rags habakuk. the circus man went to the bank and came back with spot cash greenbacks money. "this spot cash greenbacks money is made from the finest silk rags printed by the national government for the national republic to make business rich and prosperous," said the circus man, expostulating with his mouth. "t-h-e f-i-n-e-s-t s-i-l-k r-a-g-s," he expostulated again holding two fingers under the nose of rags habakuk. "i take it," said rags habakuk, "i take it. it is a whole gunnysack bag full of spot cash greenbacks money. i tell my wife it is printed by the national government for the national republic to make business rich and prosperous." then he kissed the blue rats, one on the right ear, the other on the left ear, and handed them over to the circus man. and that was why the next month his eighteen year old daughter married a taxicab driver who was so polite all the time to his customers that he never had time to be polite to his wife. and that was why his nineteen year old daughter married a moving-picture hero actor who worked so hard being nice and kind in the moving pictures that he never had enough left over for his wife when he got home after the day's work. and the lucky vest with the gold buckskin whincher was stolen from rags habakuk by the taxicab driver. [illustration] ---------------------------------------------------------------------4. four stories about the deep doom of dark doorways _people_: the rag doll the broom handle spoon lickers chocolate chins dirty bibs tin pan bangers clean ears easy ticklers musical soup eaters chubby chubs sleepy heads snoo foo blink, swink and jink blunk, swunk and junk missus sniggers eeta peeca pie meeny miney miney mo a potato bug millionaire bimbo the snip bevo the hike a ward alderman a barn boss a weather man a traffic policeman a monkey a widow woman an umbrella handle maker [illustration] the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle and who was in it the rag doll had many friends. the whisk broom, the furnace shovel, the coffee pot, they all liked the rag doll very much. but when the rag doll married, it was the broom handle she picked because the broom handle fixed her eyes. a proud child, proud but careless, banged the head of the rag doll against a door one day and knocked off both the glass eyes sewed on long ago. it was then the broom handle found two black california prunes, and fastened the two california prunes just where the eyes belonged. so then the rag doll had two fine black eyes brand new. she was even nicknamed black eyes by some people. there was a wedding when the rag doll married the broom handle. it was a grand wedding with one of the grandest processions ever seen at a rag doll wedding. and we are sure no broom handle ever had a grander wedding procession when he got married. who marched in the procession? well, first came the spoon lickers. every one of them had a tea spoon, or a soup spoon, though most of them had a big table spoon. on the spoons, what did they have? oh, some had butter scotch, some had gravy, some had marshmallow fudge. every one had something slickery sweet or fat to eat on the spoon. and as they marched in the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle, they licked their spoons and looked around and licked their spoons again. next came the tin pan bangers. some had dishpans, some had frying pans, some had potato peeling pans. all the pans were tin with tight tin bottoms. and the tin pan bangers banged with knives and forks and iron and wooden bangers on the bottoms of the tin pans. and as they marched in the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle they banged their pans and looked around and banged again. then came the chocolate chins. they were all eating chocolates. and the chocolate was slippery and slickered all over their chins. some of them spattered the ends of their noses with black chocolate. some of them spread the brown chocolate nearly up to their ears. and then as they marched in the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle they stuck their chins in the air and looked around and stuck their chins in the air again. then came the dirty bibs. they wore plain white bibs, checker bibs, stripe bibs, blue bibs and bibs with butterflies. but all the bibs were dirty. the plain white bibs were dirty, the checker bibs were dirty, the stripe bibs, the blue bibs and the bibs with butterflies on them, they were all dirty. and so in the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle, the dirty bibs marched with their dirty fingers on the bibs and they looked around and laughed and looked around and laughed again. next came the clean ears. they were proud. how they got into the procession nobody knows. their ears were all clean. they were clean not only on the outside but they were clean on the inside. there was not a speck of dirt or dust or muss or mess on the inside nor the outside of their ears. and so in the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle, they wiggled their ears and looked around and wiggled their ears again. the easy ticklers were next in the procession. their faces were shining. their cheeks were like bars of new soap. their ribs were strong and the meat and the fat was thick on their ribs. it was plain to see they were saying, "don't tickle me because i tickle so easy." and as they marched in the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle, they tickled themselves and laughed and looked around and tickled themselves again. the music was furnished mostly by the musical soup eaters. they marched with big bowls of soup in front of them and big spoons for eating the soup. they whistled and chuzzled and snozzled the soup and the noise they made could be heard far up at the head of the procession where the spoon lickers were marching. so they dipped their soup and looked around and dipped their soup again. the chubby chubs were next. they were roly poly, round faced smackers and snoozers. they were not fat babies--oh no, oh no--not fat but just chubby and easy to squeeze. they marched on their chubby legs and chubby feet and chubbed their chubbs and looked around and chubbed their chubbs again. the last of all in the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle were the sleepyheads. they were smiling and glad to be marching but their heads were slimpsing down and their smiles were half fading away and their eyes were half shut or a little more than half shut. they staggered just a little as though their feet were not sure where they were going. they were the sleepyheads, the last of all, in the wedding procession of the rag doll and the broom handle and the sleepyheads they never looked around at all. it _was_ a grand procession, don't you think so? [illustration] [illustration] how the hat ashes shovel helped snoo foo if you want to remember the names of all six of the sniggers children, remember that the three biggest were named blink, swink and jink but the three littlest ones were named blunk, swunk and junk. one day last january the three biggest had a fuss with the three littlest. the fuss was about a new hat for snoo foo, the snow man, about what kind of a hat he should wear and how he should wear it. blink, swink and jink said, "he wants a crooked hat put on straight." blunk, swunk and junk said, "he wants a straight hat put on crooked." they fussed and fussed. blink fussed with blunk, swink fussed with swunk, and jink fussed with junk. the first ones to make up after the fuss were jink and junk. they decided the best way to settle the fuss. "let's put a crooked hat on crooked," said jink. "no, let's put a straight hat on straight," said junk. then they stood looking and looking into each other's shiny laughing eyes and then both of them exploded to each other at the same time, "let's put on two hats, a crooked hat crooked and a straight hat straight." well, they looked around for hats. but there were not any hats anywhere, that is, no hats big enough for a snow man with a big head like snoo foo. so they went in the house and asked their mother for _the hat ashes shovel_. of course, in most any other house, the mother would be all worried if six children came tramping and clomping in, banging the door and all six ejaculating to their mother at once, "where is the hat ashes shovel?" but missus sniggers wasn't worried at all. she rubbed her chin with her finger and said softly, "oh lah de dah, oh lah de dah, where is that hat ashes shovel, last week i had it when i was making a hat for mister sniggers; i remember i had that hat ashes shovel right up here over the clock, oh lah de dah, oh lah de dah. go out and ring the front door bell," she said to jink sniggers. jink ran away to the front door. and missus sniggers and the five children waited. bling-bling the bell began ringing and--listen--the door of the clock opened and the hat ashes shovel fell out. "oh lah de dah, get out of here in a hurry," said missus sniggers. well, the children ran out and dug a big pail of hat ashes with the hat ashes shovel. and they made two hats for snoo foo. one was a crooked hat. the other was a straight hat. and they put the crooked hat on crooked and the straight hat on straight. and there stood snoo foo in the front yard and everybody who came by on the street, he would take off his hat to them, the crooked hat with his arm crooked and the straight hat with his arm straight. that was the end of the fuss between the sniggers children and it was jink, the littlest one of the biggest, and junk, the littlest one of the littlest, who settled the fuss by looking clean into each other's eyes and laughing. if you ever get into a fuss try this way of settling it. [illustration] three boys with jugs of molasses and secret ambitions in the village of liver-and-onions, if _one_ boy goes to the grocery for a jug of molasses it is just like always. and if _two_ boys go to the grocery for a jug of molasses together it is just like always. but if _three_ boys go to the grocery for a jug of molasses each and all together then it is not like always at all, at all. eeta peeca pie grew up with wishes and wishes working inside him. and for every wish inside him he had a freckle outside on his face. whenever he smiled the smile ran way back into the far side of his face and got lost in the wishing freckles. meeny miney grew up with suspicions and suspicions working inside him. and after a while some of the suspicions got fastened on his eyes and some of the suspicions got fastened on his mouth. so when he looked at other people straight in the face they used to say, "meeny miney looks so sad-like i wonder if he'll get by." miney mo was different. he wasn't sad-like and suspicious like meeny miney. nor was he full of wishes inside and freckles outside like eeta peeca pie. he was all mixed up inside with wishes and suspicions. so he had a few freckles and a few suspicions on his face. when he looked other people straight in the face they used to say, "i don't know whether to laugh or cry." so here we have 'em, three boys growing up with wishes, suspicions and mixed-up wishes and suspicions. they all looked different from each other. each one, however, had a secret ambition. and all three had the same secret ambition. an ambition is a little creeper that creeps and creeps in your heart night and day, singing a little song, "come and find me, come and find me." the secret ambition in the heart of eeta peeca pie, meeney miney, and miney mo was an ambition to go railroading, to ride on railroad cars night and day, year after year. the whistles and the wheels of railroad trains were music to them. whenever the secret ambition crept in their hearts and made them too sad, so sad it was hard to live and stand for it, they would all three put their hands on each other's shoulder and sing the song of joe. the chorus was like this: joe, joe, broke his toe, on the way to mexico. came back, broke his back, sliding on the railroad track. one fine summer morning all three mothers of all three boys gave each one a jug and said, "go to the grocery and get a jug of molasses." all three got to the grocery at the same time. and all three went out of the door of the grocery together, each with a jug of molasses together and each with his secret ambition creeping around in his heart, all three together. two blocks from the grocery they stopped under a slippery elm tree. eeta peeca pie was stretching his neck looking straight up into the slippery elm tree. he said it was always good for his freckles and it helped his wishes to stand under a slippery elm and look up. while he was looking up his left hand let go the jug handle of the jug of molasses. and the jug went ka-flump, ka-flumpety-flump down on the stone sidewalk, cracked to pieces and let the molasses go running out over the sidewalk. if you have never seen it, let me tell you molasses running out of a broken jug, over a stone sidewalk under a slippery elm tree, looks peculiar and mysterious. [illustration: they stepped into the molasses with their bare feet] eeta peeca pie stepped into the molasses with his bare feet. "it's a lotta fun," he said. "it tickles all over." so meeney miney and miney mo both stepped into the molasses with their bare feet. then what happened just happened. one got littler. another got littler. all three got littler. "you look to me only big as a potato bug," said eeta peeca pie to meeney miney and miney mo. "it's the same like you look to us," said meeney miney and miney mo to eeta peeca pie. and then because their secret ambition began to hurt them they all stood with hands on each other's shoulders and sang the mexico joe song. off the sidewalk they strolled, across a field of grass. they passed many houses of spiders and ants. in front of one house they saw mrs. spider over a tub washing clothes for mr. spider. "why do you wear that frying pan on your head?" they asked her. "in this country all ladies wear the frying pan on their head when they want a hat." "but what if you want a hat when you are frying with the frying pan?" asked eeta peeca pie. "that never happens to any respectable lady in this country." "don't you never have no new style hats?" asked meeney miney. "no, but we always have new style frying pans every spring and fall." hidden in the roots of a pink grass clump, they came to a city of twisted-nose spiders. on the main street was a store with a show window full of pink parasols. they walked in and said to the clerk, "we want to buy parasols." "we don't sell parasols here," said the spider clerk. "well, lend us a parasol apiece," said all three. "gladly, most gladly," said the clerk. "how do you do it?" asked eeta. "i don't have to," answered the spider clerk. "how did it begin?" "it never was otherwise." "don't you never get tired?" "every parasol is a joy." "what do you do when the parasols are gone?" "they always come back. these are the famous twisted-nose parasols made from the famous pink grass. you will lose them all, all three. then they will all walk back to me here in this store on main street. i can not sell you something i know you will surely lose. neither can i ask you to pay, for something you will forget, somewhere sometime, and when you forget it, it will walk back here to me again. look--look!" as he said "look," the door opened and five pink parasols came waltzing in and waltzed up into the show window. "they always come back. everybody forgets. take your parasols and go. you will forget them and they will come back to me." "he looks like he had wishes inside him," said eeta peeca pie. "he looks like he had suspicions," said meeney miney. "he looks like he was all mixed up wishes and suspicions," said miney mo. and once more because they all felt lonesome and their secret ambitions were creeping and eating, they put their hands on their shoulders and sang the mexico joe song. then came happiness. they entered the potato bug country. and they had luck first of all the first hour they were in the potato bug country. they met a potato bug millionaire. "how are you a millionaire?" they asked him. "because i got a million," he answered. "a million what?" "a million _fleems_." "who wants fleems?" "you want fleems if you're going to live here." "why so?" "because fleems is our money. in the potato bug country, if you got no fleems you can't buy nothing nor anything. but if you got a million fleems you're a potato bug millionaire." then he surprised them. "i like you because you got wishes and freckles," he said to eeta peeca pie, filling the pockets of eeta with fleems. "and i like you because you got suspicions and you're sad-like," he said to meeney miney filling meeney miney's pockets full of fleems. "and i like you because you got some wishes and some suspicions and you look mixed up," he said to miney mo, sticking handfuls and handfuls of fleems into the pockets of miney mo. wishes do come true. and suspicions do come true. here they had been wishing all their lives, and had suspicions of what was going to happen, and now it all came true. with their pockets filled with fleems they rode on all the railroad trains of the potato bug country. they went to the railroad stations and bought tickets for the fast trains and the slow trains and even the trains that back up and run backward instead of where they start to go. on the dining cars of the railroads of the potato bug country they ate wonder ham from the famous potato bug pigs, eggs from the potato bug hens, et cetera. it seemed to them they stayed a long while in the potato bug country, years and years. yes, the time came when all their fleems were gone. then whenever they wanted a railroad ride or something to eat or a place to sleep, they put their hands on each other's shoulders and sang the mexico joe song. in the potato bug country they all said the mexico joe song was wonderful. one morning while they were waiting to take an express train on the early ohio & southwestern they sat near the roots of a big potato plant under the big green leaves. and far above them they saw a dim black cloud and they heard a shaking and a rustling and a spattering. they did not know it was a man of the village of liver-and-onions. they did not know it was mr. sniggers putting paris green on the potato plants. a big drop of paris green spattered down and fell onto the heads and shoulders of all three, eeta peeca pie, meeny miney and miney mo. then what happened just happened. they got bigger and bigger--one, two, three. and when they jumped up and ran out of the potato rows, mr. sniggers thought they were boys playing tricks. when they got home to their mothers and told all about the jug of molasses breaking on the stone sidewalk under the slippery elm tree, their mothers said it was careless. the boys said it was lucky because it helped them get their secret ambitions. and a secret ambition is a little creeper that creeps and creeps in your heart night and day, singing a little song, "come and find me, come and find me." [illustration] [illustration] how bimbo the snip's thumb stuck to his nose when the wind changed once there was a boy in the village of liver-and-onions whose name was bimbo the snip. he forgot nearly everything his father and mother told him to do and told him not to do. one day his father, bevo the hike, came home and found bimbo the snip sitting on the front steps with his thumb fastened to his nose and the fingers wiggling. "i can't take my thumb away," said bimbo the snip, "because when i put my thumb to my nose and wiggled my fingers at the iceman the wind changed. and just like mother always said, if the wind changed the thumb would stay fastened to my nose and not come off." bevo the hike took hold of the thumb and pulled. he tied a clothes line rope around it and pulled. he pushed with his foot and heel against it. and all the time the thumb stuck fast and the fingers wiggled from the end of the nose of bimbo the snip. bevo the hike sent for the ward alderman. the ward alderman sent for the barn boss of the street cleaning department. the barn boss of the street cleaning department sent for the head vaccinator of the vaccination bureau of the health department. the head vaccinator of the vaccination bureau of the health department sent for the big main fixer of the weather bureau where they understand the tricks of the wind and the wind changing. and the big main fixer of the weather bureau said, "if you hit the thumb six times with the end of a traffic policeman's club, the thumb will come loose." so bevo the hike went to a traffic policeman standing on a street corner with a whistle telling the wagons and cars which way to go. he told the traffic policeman, "the wind changed and bimbo the snip's thumb is fastened to his nose and will not come loose till it is hit six times with the end of a traffic policeman's club." "i can't help you unless you find a monkey to take my place standing on the corner telling the wagons and cars which way to go," answered the traffic policeman. so bevo the hike went to the zoo and said to a monkey, "the wind changed and bimbo the snip's thumb is fastened to his nose and will not come loose till it is hit with the end of a traffic policeman's club six times and the traffic policeman cannot leave his place on the street corner telling the traffic which way to go unless a monkey comes and takes his place." the monkey answered, "get me a ladder with a whistle so i can climb up and whistle and tell the traffic which way to go." so bevo the hike hunted and hunted over the city and looked and looked and asked and asked till his feet and his eyes and his head and his heart were tired from top to bottom. then he met an old widow woman whose husband had been killed in a sewer explosion when he was digging sewer ditches. and the old woman was carrying a bundle of picked-up kindling wood in a bag on her back because she did not have money enough to buy coal. bevo the hike told her, "you have troubles. so have i. you are carrying a load on your back people can see. i am carrying a load and nobody sees it." "tell me your troubles," said the old widow woman. he told her. and she said, "in the next block is an old umbrella handle maker. he has a ladder with a whistle. he climbs on the ladder when he makes long long umbrella handles. and he has the whistle on the ladder to be whistling." bevo the hike went to the next block, found the house of the umbrella handle maker and said to him, "the wind changed and bimbo the snip's thumb is fastened to his nose and will not come loose till it is hit with the end of a traffic policeman's club six times and the traffic policeman cannot leave the corner where he is telling the traffic which way to go unless a monkey takes his place and the monkey cannot take his place unless he has a ladder with a whistle to stand on and whistle the wagons and cars which way to go." then the umbrella handle maker said, "to-night i have a special job because i must work on a long, long umbrella handle and i will need the ladder to climb up and the whistle to be whistling. but if you promise to have the ladder back by to-night you can take it." bevo the hike promised. then he took the ladder with a whistle to the monkey, the monkey took the place of the traffic policeman while the traffic policeman went to the home of bevo the hike where bimbo the snip was sitting on the front steps with his thumb fastened to his nose wiggling his fingers at everybody passing by on the street. the traffic policeman hit bimbo the snip's thumb five times with the club. and the thumb stuck fast. but the sixth time it was hit with the end of the traffic policeman's thumb club, it came loose. then bevo thanked the policeman, thanked the monkey, and took the ladder with the whistle back to the umbrella handle maker's house and thanked him. when bevo the hike got home that night bimbo the snip was in bed and all tickled. he said to his father, "i will be careful how i stick my thumb to my nose and wiggle my fingers the next time the wind changes." [illustration: the monkey took the place of the traffic policeman] ---------------------------------------------------------------------5. three stories about three ways the wind went winding _people_: two skyscrapers the northwest wind the golden spike limited train a tin brass goat a tin brass goose newsies young leather red slippers a man to be hanged five jackrabbits the wooden indian the shaghorn buffalo the night policeman [illustration] the two skyscrapers who decided to have a child two skyscrapers stood across the street from each other in the village of liver-and-onions. in the daylight when the streets poured full of people buying and selling, these two skyscrapers talked with each other the same as mountains talk. in the night time when all the people buying and selling were gone home and there were only policemen and taxicab drivers on the streets, in the night when a mist crept up the streets and threw a purple and gray wrapper over everything, in the night when the stars and the sky shook out sheets of purple and gray mist down over the town, then the two skyscrapers leaned toward each other and whispered. whether they whispered secrets to each other or whether they whispered simple things that you and i know and everybody knows, that is their secret. one thing is sure: they often were seen leaning toward each other and whispering in the night the same as mountains lean and whisper in the night. high on the roof of one of the skyscrapers was a tin brass goat looking out across prairies, and silver blue lakes shining like blue porcelain breakfast plates, and out across silver snakes of winding rivers in the morning sun. and high on the roof of the other skyscraper was a tin brass goose looking out across prairies, and silver blue lakes shining like blue porcelain breakfast plates, and out across silver snakes of winding rivers in the morning sun. now the northwest wind was a friend of the two skyscrapers. coming so far, coming five hundred miles in a few hours, coming so fast always while the skyscrapers were standing still, standing always on the same old street corners always, the northwest wind was a bringer of news. "well, i see the city is here yet," the northwest wind would whistle to the skyscrapers. and they would answer, "yes, and are the mountains standing yet way out yonder where you come from, wind?" "yes, the mountains are there yonder, and farther yonder is the sea, and the railroads are still going, still running across the prairie to the mountains, to the sea," the northwest wind would answer. and now there was a pledge made by the northwest wind to the two skyscrapers. often the northwest wind shook the tin brass goat and shook the tin brass goose on top of the skyscrapers. "are you going to blow loose the tin brass goat on my roof?" one asked. "are you going to blow loose the tin brass goose on my roof?" the other asked. "oh, no," the northwest wind laughed, first to one and then to the other, "if i ever blow loose your tin brass goat and if i ever blow loose your tin brass goose, it will be when i am sorry for you because you are up against hard luck and there is somebody's funeral." so time passed on and the two skyscrapers stood with their feet among the policemen and the taxicabs, the people buying and selling,--the customers with parcels, packages and bundles--while away high on their roofs stood the goat and the goose looking out on silver blue lakes like blue porcelain breakfast plates and silver snakes of rivers winding in the morning sun. so time passed on and the northwest wind kept coming, telling the news and making promises. so time passed on. and the two skyscrapers decided to have a child. and they decided when their child came it should be a _free_ child. "it must be a free child," they said to each other. "it must not be a child standing still all its life on a street corner. yes, if we have a child she must be free to run across the prairie, to the mountains, to the sea. yes, it must be a free child." so time passed on. their child came. it was a railroad train, the golden spike limited, the fastest long distance train in the rootabaga country. it ran across the prairie, to the mountains, to the sea. they were glad, the two skyscrapers were, glad to have a free child running away from the big city, far away to the mountains, far away to the sea, running as far as the farthest mountains and sea coasts touched by the northwest wind. they were glad their child was useful, the two skyscrapers were, glad their child was carrying a thousand people a thousand miles a day, so when people spoke of the golden spike limited, they spoke of it as a strong, lovely child. then time passed on. there came a day when the newsies yelled as though they were crazy. "yah yah, blah blah, yoh yoh," was what it sounded like to the two skyscrapers who never bothered much about what the newsies were yelling. "yah yah, blah blah, yoh yoh," was the cry of the newsies that came up again to the tops of the skyscrapers. at last the yelling of the newsies came so strong the skyscrapers listened and heard the newsies yammering, "all about the great train wreck! all about the golden spike disaster! many lives lost! many lives lost!" and the northwest wind came howling a slow sad song. and late that afternoon a crowd of policemen, taxicab drivers, newsies and customers with bundles, all stood around talking and wondering about two things next to each other on the street car track in the middle of the street. one was a tin brass goat. the other was a tin brass goose. and they lay next to each other. [illustration] the dollar watch and the five jack rabbits long ago, long before the waylacks lost the wonderful stripes of oat straw gold and the spots of timothy hay green in their marvelous curving tail feathers, long before the doo-doo-jangers whistled among the honeysuckle blossoms and the bitter-basters cried their last and dying wrangling cries, long before the sad happenings that came later, it was then, some years earlier than the year fifty fifty, that young leather and red slippers crossed the rootabaga country. to begin with, they were walking across the rootabaga country. and they were walking because it made their feet glad to feel the dirt of the earth under their shoes and they were close to the smells of the earth. they learned the ways of birds and bugs, why birds have wings, why bugs have legs, why the gladdywhingers have spotted eggs in a basket nest in a booblow tree, and why the chizzywhizzies scrape off little fiddle songs all summer long while the summer nights last. early one morning they were walking across the corn belt of the rootabaga country singing, "deep down among the dagger dancers." they had just had a breakfast of coffee and hot hankypank cakes covered with cow's butter. young leather said to red slippers, "what is the best secret we have come across this summer?" "that is easy to answer," red slippers said with a long flish of her long black eyelashes. "the best secret we have come across is a rope of gold hanging from every star in the sky and when we want to go up we go up." walking on they came to a town where they met a man with a sorry face. "why?" they asked him. and he answered, "my brother is in jail." "what for?" they asked him again. and he answered again, "my brother put on a straw hat in the middle of the winter and went out on the streets laughing; my brother had his hair cut pompompadour and went out on the streets bareheaded in the summertime laughing; and these things were against the law. worst of all he sneezed at the wrong time and he sneezed before the wrong persons; he sneezed when it was not wise to sneeze. so he will be hanged to-morrow morning. the gallows made of lumber and the rope made of hemp--they are waiting for him to-morrow morning. they will tie around his neck the hangman's necktie and hoist him high." the man with a sorry face looked more sorry than ever. it made young leather feel reckless and it made red slippers feel reckless. they whispered to each other. then young leather said, "take this dollar watch. give it to your brother. tell him when they are leading him to the gallows he must take this dollar watch in his hand, wind it up and push on the stem winder. the rest will be easy." so the next morning when they were leading the man to be hanged to the gallows made of lumber and the rope made of hemp, where they were going to hoist him high because he sneezed in the wrong place before the wrong people, he used his fingers winding up the watch and pushing on the stem winder. there was a snapping and a slatching like a gas engine slipping into a big pair of dragon fly wings. the dollar watch changed into a dragon fly ship. the man who was going to be hanged jumped into the dragon fly ship and flew whonging away before anybody could stop him. young leather and red slippers were walking out of the town laughing and singing again, "deep down among the dagger dancers." the man with a sorry face, not so sorry now any more, came running after them. behind the man and running after him were five long-legged spider jack-rabbits. "these are for you," was his exclamation. and they all sat down on the stump of a booblow tree. he opened his sorry face and told the secrets of the five long-legged spider jack-rabbits to young leather and red slippers. they waved good-by and went on up the road leading the five new jack-rabbits. in the next town they came to was a skyscraper higher than all the other skyscrapers. a rich man dying wanted to be remembered and left in his last will and testament a command they should build a building so high it would scrape the thunder clouds and stand higher than all other skyscrapers with his name carved in stone letters on the top of it, and an electric sign at night with his name on it, and a clock on the tower with his name on it. "i am hungry to be remembered and have my name spoken by many people after i am dead," the rich man told his friends. "i command you, therefore, to throw the building high in the air because the higher it goes the longer i will be remembered and the longer the years men will mention my name after i am dead." so there it was. young leather and red slippers laughed when they first saw the skyscraper, when they were far off along a country road singing their old song, "deep down among the dagger dancers." "we got a show and we give a performance and we want the whole town to see it," was what young leather and red slippers said to the mayor of the town when they called on him at the city hall. "we want a license and a permit to give this free show in the public square." "what do you do?" asked the mayor. "we jump five jack-rabbits, five long-legged spider jack-rabbits over the highest skyscraper you got in your city," they answered him. "if it's free and you don't sell anything nor take any money away from us while it is daylight and you are giving your performance, then here is your license permit," said the mayor speaking in the manner of a politician who has studied politics. thousands of people came to see the show on the public square. they wished to know how it would look to see five long-legged, spider jack-rabbits jump over the highest skyscraper in the city. four of the jack-rabbits had stripes. the fifth had stripes--and spots. before they started the show young leather and red slippers held the jack-rabbits one by one in their arms and petted them, rubbed the feet and rubbed the long ears and ran their fingers along the long legs of the jumpers. "zingo," they yelled to the first jack-rabbit. he got all ready. "and now zingo!" they yelled again. and the jack-rabbit took a run, lifted off his feet and went on and on and up and up till he went over the roof of the skyscraper and then went down and down till he lit on his feet and came running on his long legs back to the public square where he started from, back where young leather and red slippers petted him and rubbed his long ears and said, "that's the boy." then three jack-rabbits made the jump over the skyscraper. "zingo," they heard and got ready. "and now zingo," they heard and all three together in a row, their long ears touching each other, they lifted off their feet and went on and on and up and up till they cleared the roof of the skyscraper. then they came down and down till they lit on their feet and came running to the hands of young leather and red slippers to have their long legs and their long ears rubbed and petted. then came the turn of the fifth jack-rabbit, the beautiful one with stripes and spots. "ah, we're sorry to see you go, ah-h, we're sorry," they said, rubbing his long ears and feeling of his long legs. then young leather and red slippers kissed him on the nose, kissed the last and fifth of the five long-legged spider jack-rabbits. "good-by, old bunny, good-by, you're the dandiest bunny there ever was," they whispered in his long ears. and he, because he knew what they were saying and why they were saying it, he wiggled his long ears and looked long and steady at them from his deep eyes. "zango," they yelled. he got ready. "and now zango!" they yelled again. and the fifth jack-rabbit with his stripes and spots lifted off his feet and went on and on and on and up and up and when he came to the roof of the skyscraper he kept on going on and on and up and up till after a while he was gone all the way out of sight. they waited and watched, they watched and waited. he never came back. he never was heard of again. he was gone. with the stripes on his back and the spots on his hair, he was gone. and young leather and red slippers said they were glad they had kissed him on the nose before he went away on a long trip far off, so far off he never came back. [illustration] [illustration] the wooden indian and the shaghorn buffalo one night a milk white moon was shining down on main street. the sidewalks and the stones, the walls and the windows all stood out milk white. and there was a thin blue mist drifted and shifted like a woman's veil up and down main street, up to the moon and back again. yes, all main street was a mist blue and a milk white, mixed up and soft all over and all through. it was past midnight. the wooden indian in front of the cigar store stepped down off his stand. the shaghorn buffalo in front of the haberdasher shop lifted his head and shook his whiskers, raised his hoofs out of his hoof-tracks. then--this is what happened. they moved straight toward each other. in the middle of main street they met. the wooden indian jumped straddle of the shaghorn buffalo. and the shaghorn buffalo put his head down and ran like a prairie wind straight west on main street. at the high hill over the big bend of the clear green river they stopped. they stood looking. drifting and shifting like a woman's blue veil, the blue mist filled the valley and the milk white moon filled the valley. and the mist and the moon touched with a lingering, wistful kiss the clear green water of the clear green river. so they stood looking, the wooden indian with his copper face and wooden feathers, and the shaghorn buffalo with his big head and heavy shoulders slumping down close to the ground. [illustration: so they stood looking] and after they had looked a long while, and each of them got an eyeful of the high hill, the big bend and the moon mist on the river all blue and white and soft, after they had looked a long while, they turned around and the shaghorn buffalo put his head down and ran like a prairie wind down main street till he was exactly in front of the cigar store and the haberdasher shop. then whisk! both of them were right back like they were before, standing still, taking whatever comes. this is the story as it came from the night policeman of the village of cream puffs. he told the people the next day, "i was sitting on the steps of the cigar store last night watching for burglars. and when i saw the wooden indian step down and the shaghorn buffalo step out, and the two of them go down main street like the wind, i says to myself, marvelish, 'tis marvelish, 'tis marvelish." ---------------------------------------------------------------------6. four stories about dear, dear eyes _people_: the white horse girl the blue wind boy the gray man on horseback six girls with balloons henry hagglyhoagly susan slackentwist two wool yarn mittens peter potato blossom wishes her father many shoes slippers a slipper moon [illustration] the white horse girl and the blue wind boy when the dishes are washed at night time and the cool of the evening has come in summer or the lamps and fires are lit for the night in winter, then the fathers and mothers in the rootabaga country sometimes tell the young people the story of the white horse girl and the blue wind boy. the white horse girl grew up far in the west of the rootabaga country. all the years she grew up as a girl she liked to ride horses. best of all things for her was to be straddle of a white horse loping with a loose bridle among the hills and along the rivers of the west rootabaga country. she rode one horse white as snow, another horse white as new washed sheep wool, and another white as silver. and she could not tell because she did not know which of these three white horses she liked best. "snow is beautiful enough for me any time," she said, "new washed sheep wool, or silver out of a ribbon of the new moon, any or either is white enough for me. i like the white manes, the white flanks, the white noses, the white feet of all my ponies. i like the forelocks hanging down between the white ears of all three--my ponies." and living neighbor to the white horse girl in the same prairie country, with the same black crows flying over their places, was the blue wind boy. all the years he grew up as a boy he liked to walk with his feet in the dirt and the grass listening to the winds. best of all things for him was to put on strong shoes and go hiking among the hills and along the rivers of the west rootabaga country, listening to the winds. there was a blue wind of day time, starting sometimes six o'clock on a summer morning or eight o'clock on a winter morning. and there was a night wind with blue of summer stars in summer and blue of winter stars in winter. and there was yet another, a blue wind of the times between night and day, a blue dawn and evening wind. all three of these winds he liked so well he could not say which he liked best. "the early morning wind is strong as the prairie and whatever i tell it i know it believes and remembers," he said, "and the night wind with the big dark curves of the night sky in it, the night wind gets inside of me and understands all my secrets. and the blue wind of the times between, in the dusk when it is neither night nor day, this is the wind that asks me questions and tells me to wait and it will bring me whatever i want." of course, it happened as it had to happen, the white horse girl and the blue wind boy met. she, straddling one of her white horses, and he, wearing his strong hiking shoes in the dirt and the grass, it had to happen they should meet among the hills and along the rivers of the west rootabaga country where they lived neighbors. and of course, she told him all about the snow white horse and the horse white as new washed sheep wool and the horse white as a silver ribbon of the new moon. and he told her all about the blue winds he liked listening to, the early morning wind, the night sky wind, and the wind of the dusk between, the wind that asked him questions and told him to wait. one day the two of them were gone. on the same day of the week the white horse girl and the blue wind boy went away. and their fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers and uncles and aunts wondered about them and talked about them, because they didn't tell anybody beforehand they were going. nobody at all knew beforehand or afterward why they were going away, the real honest why of it. they left a short letter. it read: _to all our sweethearts, old folks and young folks:_ _we have started to go where the white horses come from and where the blue winds begin. keep a corner in your hearts for us while we are gone._ _the white horse girl._ _the blue wind boy._ that was all they had to guess by in the west rootabaga country, to guess and guess where two darlings had gone. many years passed. one day there came riding across the rootabaga country a gray man on horseback. he looked like he had come a long ways. so they asked him the question they always asked of any rider who looked like he had come a long ways, "did you ever see the white horse girl and the blue wind boy?" "yes," he answered, "i saw them. "it was a long, long ways from here i saw them," he went on, "it would take years and years to ride to where they are. they were sitting together and talking to each other, sometimes singing, in a place where the land runs high and tough rocks reach up. and they were looking out across water, blue water as far as the eye could see. and away far off the blue waters met the blue sky. "'look!' said the boy, 'that's where the blue winds begin.' "and far out on the blue waters, just a little this side of where the blue winds begin, there were white manes, white flanks, white noses, white galloping feet. "'look!' said the girl, 'that's where the white horses come from.' "and then nearer to the land came thousands in an hour, millions in a day, white horses, some white as snow, some like new washed sheep wool, some white as silver ribbons of the new moon. "i asked them, 'whose place is this?' they answered, 'it belongs to us; this is what we started for; this is where the white horses come from; this is where the blue winds begin.'" and that was all the gray man on horseback would tell the people of the west rootabaga country. that was all he knew, he said, and if there was any more he would tell it. and the fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers and uncles and aunts of the white horse girl and the blue wind boy wondered and talked often about whether the gray man on horseback made up the story out of his head or whether it happened just like he told it. anyhow this is the story they tell sometimes to the young people of the west rootabaga country when the dishes are washed at night and the cool of the evening has come in summer or the lamps and fires are lit for the night in winter. [illustration] what six girls with balloons told the gray man on horseback once there came riding across the rootabaga country a gray man on horseback. he looked as if he had come a long ways. he looked like a brother to the same gray man on horseback who said he had seen the white horse girl and the blue wind boy. he stopped in the village of cream puffs. his gray face was sad and his eyes were gray deep and sad. he spoke short and seemed strong. sometimes his eyes looked as if they were going to flash, but instead of fire they filled with shadows. yet--he did laugh once. it did happen once he lifted his head and face to the sky and let loose a long ripple of laughs. on main street near the roundhouse of the big spool, where they wind up the string that pulls the light little town back when the wind blows it away, there he was riding slow on his gray horse when he met six girls with six fine braids of yellow hair and six balloons apiece. that is, each and every one of the six girls had six fine long braids of yellow hair and each braid of hair had a balloon tied on the end. a little blue wind was blowing and the many balloons tied to the braids of the six girls swung up and down and slow and fast whenever the blue wind went up and down and slow and fast. for the first time since he had been in the village, the eyes of the gray man filled with lights and his face began to look hopeful. he stopped his horse when he came even with the six girls and the balloons floating from the braids of yellow hair. "where you going?" he asked. "who--hoo-hoo? who--who--who?" the six girls cheeped out. "all six of you and your balloons, where you going?" "oh, hoo-hoo-hoo, back where we came from," and they all turned their heads back and forth and sideways, which of course turned all the balloons back and forth and sideways because the balloons were fastened to the fine braids of hair which were fastened to their heads. "and where do you go when you get back where you came from?" he asked just to be asking. "oh, hoo-hoo-hoo, then we start out and go straight ahead and see what we can see," they all answered just to be answering and they dipped their heads and swung them up which of course dipped all the balloons and swung them up. so they talked, he asking just to be asking and the six balloon girls answering just to be answering. at last his sad mouth broke into a smile and his eyes were lit like a morning sun coming up over harvest fields. and he said to them, "tell me why are balloons--that is what i want you to tell me--why are balloons?" the first little girl put her thumb under her chin, looked up at her six balloons floating in the little blue wind over her head, and said: "balloons are wishes. the wind made them. the west wind makes the red balloons. the south wind makes the blue. the yellow and green balloons come from the east wind and the north wind." the second little girl put her first finger next to her nose, looked up at her six balloons dipping up and down like hill flowers in a small wind, and said: "a balloon used to be a flower. it got tired. then it changed itself to a balloon. i listened one time to a yellow balloon. it was talking to itself like people talk. it said, 'i used to be a yellow pumpkin flower stuck down close to the ground, now i am a yellow balloon high up in the air where nobody can walk on me and i can see everything.'" the third little girl held both of her ears like she was afraid they would wiggle while she slid with a skip, turned quick, and looking up at her balloons, spoke these words: "a balloon is foam. it comes the same as soap bubbles come. a long time ago it used to be sliding along on water, river water, ocean water, waterfall water, falling and falling over a rocky waterfall, any water you want. the wind saw the bubble and picked it up and carried it away, telling it, 'now you're a balloon--come along and see the world.'" the fourth little girl jumped straight into the air so all six of her balloons made a jump like they were going to get loose and go to the sky--and when the little girl came down from her jump and was standing on her two feet with her head turned looking up at the six balloons, she spoke the shortest answer of all, saying: "balloons are to make us look up. they help our necks." the fifth little girl stood first on one foot, then another, bent her head down to her knees and looked at her toes, then swinging straight up and looking at the flying spotted yellow and red and green balloons, she said: "balloons come from orchards. look for trees where half is oranges and half is orange balloons. look for apple trees where half is red pippins and half is red pippin balloons. look for watermelons too. a long green balloon with white and yellow belly stripes is a ghost. it came from a watermelon said good-by." the sixth girl, the last one, kicked the heel of her left foot with the toe of her right foot, put her thumbs under her ears and wiggled all her fingers, then stopped all her kicking and wiggling, and stood looking up at her balloons all quiet because the wind had gone down--and she murmured like she was thinking to herself: "balloons come from fire chasers. every balloon has a fire chaser chasing it. all the fire chasers are made terrible quick and when they come they burn quick, so the balloon is made light so it can run away terrible quick. balloons slip away from fire. if they don't they can't be balloons. running away from fire keeps them light." all the time he listened to the six girls the face of the gray man kept getting more hopeful. his eyes lit up. twice he smiled. and after he said good-by and rode up the street, he lifted his head and face to the sky and let loose a long ripple of laughs. he kept looking back when he left the village and the last thing he saw was the six girls each with six balloons fastened to the six braids of yellow hair hanging down their backs. the sixth little girl kicked the heel of her left foot with the toe of her right foot and said, "he is a nice man. i think he must be our uncle. if he comes again we shall all ask him to tell us where he thinks balloons come from." and the other five girls all answered, "yes," or "yes, yes," or "yes, yes, yes," real fast like a balloon with a fire chaser after it. [illustration] how henry hagglyhoagly played the guitar with his mittens on sometimes in january the sky comes down close if we walk on a country road, and turn our faces up to look at the sky. sometimes on that kind of a january night the stars look like numbers, look like the arithmetic writing of a girl going to school and just beginning arithmetic. it was this kind of a night henry hagglyhoagly was walking down a country road on his way to the home of susan slackentwist, the daughter of the rutabaga king near the village of liver-and-onions. when henry hagglyhoagly turned his face up to look at the sky it seemed to him as though the sky came down close to his nose, and there was a writing in stars as though some girl had been doing arithmetic examples, writing number 4 and number 7 and 4 and 7 over and over again across the sky. "why is it so bitter cold weather?" henry hagglyhoagly asked himself, "if i say many bitter bitters it is not so bitter as the cold wind and the cold weather." "you are good, mittens, keeping my fingers warm," he said every once in a while to the wool yarn mittens on his hands. the wind came tearing along and put its chilly, icy, clammy clamps on the nose of henry hagglyhoagly, fastening the clamps like a nipping, gripping clothes pin on his nose. he put his wool yarn mittens up on his nose and rubbed till the wind took off the chilly, icy, clammy clamps. his nose was warm again; he said, "thank you, mittens, for keeping my nose warm." [illustration: it seemed to him as though the sky came down close to his nose] he spoke to his wool yarn mittens as though they were two kittens or pups, or two little cub bears, or two little idaho ponies. "you're my chums keeping me company," he said to the mittens. "do you know what we got here under our left elbow?" he said to the mittens, "i shall mention to you what is here under my left elbow. "it ain't a mandolin, it ain't a mouth organ nor an accordion nor a concertina nor a fiddle. it is a guitar, a spanish spinnish splishy guitar made special. "yes, mittens, they said a strong young man like me ought to have a piano because a piano is handy to play for everybody in the house and a piano is handy to put a hat and overcoat on or books or flowers. "i snizzled at 'em, mittens. i told 'em i seen a spanish spinnish splishy guitar made special in a hardware store window for eight dollars and a half. "and so, mittens--are you listening, mittens?--after cornhusking was all husked and the oats thrashing all thrashed and the rutabaga digging all dug, i took eight dollars and a half in my inside vest pocket and i went to the hardware store. "i put my thumbs in my vest pocket and i wiggled my fingers like a man when he is proud of what he is going to have if he gets it. and i said to the head clerk in the hardware store, 'sir, the article i desire to purchase this evening as one of your high class customers, the article i desire to have after i buy it for myself, is the article there in the window, sir, the spanish spinnish splishy guitar.' "and, mittens, if you are listening, i am taking this spanish spinnish splishy guitar to go to the home of susan slackentwist, the daughter of the rutabaga king near the village of liver-and-onions, to sing a serenade song." the cold wind of the bitter cold weather blew and blew, trying to blow the guitar out from under the left elbow of henry hagglyhoagly. and the worse the wind blew the tighter he held his elbow holding the guitar where he wanted it. he walked on and on with his long legs stepping long steps till at last he stopped, held his nose in the air, and sniffed. "do i sniff something or do i not?" he asked, lifting his wool yarn mittens to his nose and rubbing his nose till it was warm. again he sniffed. "ah hah, yeah, yeah, this is the big rutabaga field near the home of the rutabaga king and the home of his daughter, susan slackentwist." at last he came to the house, stood under the window and slung the guitar around in front of him to play the music to go with the song. "and now," he asked his mittens, "shall i take you off or keep you on? if i take you off the cold wind of the bitter cold weather will freeze my hands so stiff and bitter cold my fingers will be too stiff to play the guitar. _i will play with mittens on._" which he did. he stood under the window of susan slackentwist and played the guitar with his mittens on, the warm wool yarn mittens he called his chums. it was the first time any strong young man going to see his sweetheart ever played the guitar with his mittens on when it was a bitter night with a cold wind and cold weather. susan slackentwist opened her window and threw him a snow-bird feather to keep for a keepsake to remember her by. and for years afterward many a sweetheart in the rootabaga country told her lover, "if you wish to marry me let me hear you under my window on a winter night playing the guitar with wool yarn mittens on." and when henry hagglyhoagly walked home on his long legs stepping long steps, he said to his mittens, "this spanish spinnish splishy guitar made special will bring us luck." and when he turned his face up, the sky came down close and he could see stars fixed like numbers and the arithmetic writing of a girl going to school learning to write number 4 and number 7 and 4 and 7 over and over. [illustration] [illustration] never kick a slipper at the moon when a girl is growing up in the rootabaga country she learns some things to do, some things _not_ to do. "never kick a slipper at the moon if it is the time for the dancing slipper moon when the slim early moon looks like the toe and the heel of a dancer's foot," was the advice mr. wishes, the father of peter potato blossom wishes, gave to his daughter. "why?" she asked him. "because your slipper will go straight up, on and on to the moon, and fasten itself on the moon as if the moon is a foot ready for dancing," said mr. wishes. "a long time ago there was one night when a secret word was passed around to all the shoes standing in the bedrooms and closets. "the whisper of the secret was: 'to-night all the shoes and the slippers and the boots of the world are going walking without any feet in them. to-night when those who put us on their feet in the daytime, are sleeping in their beds, we all get up and walk and go walking where we walk in the daytime.' "and in the middle of the night, when the people in the beds were sleeping, the shoes and the slippers and the boots everywhere walked out of the bedrooms and the closets. along the sidewalks on the streets, up and down stairways, along hallways, the shoes and slippers and the boots tramped and marched and stumbled. "some walked pussyfoot, sliding easy and soft just like people in the daytime. some walked clumping and clumping, coming down heavy on the heels and slow on the toes, just like people in the daytime. "some turned their toes in and walked pigeon-toe, some spread their toes out and held their heels in, just like people in the daytime. some ran glad and fast, some lagged slow and sorry. "now there was a little girl in the village of cream puffs who came home from a dance that night. and she was tired from dancing round dances and square dances, one steps and two steps, toe dances and toe and heel dances, dances close up and dances far apart, she was so tired she took off only one slipper, tumbled onto her bed and went to sleep with one slipper on. "she woke up in the morning when it was yet dark. and she went to the window and looked up in the sky and saw a dancing slipper moon dancing far and high in the deep blue sea of the moon sky. "'oh--what a moon--what a dancing slipper of a moon!' she cried with a little song to herself. "she opened the window, saying again, 'oh! what a moon!'--and kicked her foot with the slipper on it straight toward the moon. "the slipper flew off and flew up and went on and on and up and up in the moonshine. "it never came back, that slipper. it was never seen again. when they asked the girl about it she said, 'it slipped off my foot and went up and up and the last i saw of it the slipper was going on straight to the moon.'" and these are the explanations why fathers and mothers in the rootabaga country say to their girls growing up, "never kick a slipper at the moon if it is the time of the dancing slipper moon when the ends of the moon look like the toe and the heel of a dancer's foot." ---------------------------------------------------------------------7. one story--"only the fire-born understand blue" _people_: fire the goat flim the goose shadows [illustration] sand flat shadows fire the goat and flim the goose slept out. stub pines stood over them. and away up next over the stub pines were stars. it was a white sand flat they slept on. the floor of the sand flat ran straight to the big lake of the booming rollers. and just over the sand flat and just over the booming rollers was a high room where the mist people were making pictures. gray pictures, blue and sometimes a little gold, and often silver, were the pictures. and next just over the high room where the mist people were making pictures, next just over were the stars. over everything and always last and highest of all, were the stars. fire the goat took off his horns. flim the goose took off his wings. "this is where we sleep," they said to each other, "here in the stub pines on the sand flats next to the booming rollers and high over everything and always last and highest of all, the stars." fire the goat laid his horns under his head. flim the goose laid his wings under his head. "this is the best place for what you want to keep," they said to each other. then they crossed their fingers for luck and lay down and went to sleep and slept. and while they slept the mist people went on making pictures. gray pictures, blue and sometimes a little gold but more often silver, such were the pictures the mist people went on making while fire the goat and flim the goose went on sleeping. and over everything and always last and highest of all, were the stars. they woke up. fire the goat took his horns out and put them on. "it's morning now," he said. flim the goose took his wings out and put them on. "it's another day now," he said. then they sat looking. away off where the sun was coming up, inching and pushing up far across the rim curve of the big lake of the booming rollers, along the whole line of the east sky, there were people and animals, all black or all so gray they were near black. there was a big horse with his mouth open, ears laid back, front legs thrown in two curves like harvest sickles. there was a camel with two humps, moving slow and grand like he had all the time of all the years of all the world to go in. there was an elephant without any head, with six short legs. there were many cows. there was a man with a club over his shoulder and a woman with a bundle on the back of her neck. and they marched on. they were going nowhere, it seemed. and they were going slow. they had plenty of time. there was nothing else to do. it was fixed for them to do it, long ago it was fixed. and so they were marching. sometimes the big horse's head sagged and dropped off and came back again. sometimes the humps of the camel sagged and dropped off and came back again. and sometimes the club on the man's shoulder got bigger and heavier and the man staggered under it and then his legs got bigger and stronger and he steadied himself and went on. and again sometimes the bundle on the back of the neck of the woman got bigger and heavier and the bundle sagged and the woman staggered and her legs got bigger and stronger and she steadied herself and went on. this was the show, the hippodrome, the spectacular circus that passed on the east sky before the eyes of fire the goat and flim the goose. "which is this, who are they and why do they come?" flim the goose asked fire the goat. [illustration: away off where the sun was coming up, there were people and animals] "do you ask me because you wish me to tell you?" asked fire the goat. "indeed it is a question to which i want an honest answer." "has never the father or mother nor the uncle or aunt nor the kith and kin of flim the goose told him the what and the which of this?" "never has the such of this which been put here this way to me by anybody." flim the goose held up his fingers and said, "i don't talk to you with my fingers crossed." and so fire the goat began to explain to flim the goose all about the show, the hippodrome, the mastodonic cyclopean spectacle which was passing on the east sky in front of the sun coming up. "people say they are shadows," began fire the goat. "that is a name, a word, a little cough and a couple of syllables. "for some people shadows are comic and only to laugh at. for some other people shadows are like a mouth and its breath. the breath comes out and it is nothing. it is like air and nobody can make it into a package and carry it away. it will not melt like gold nor can you shovel it like cinders. so to these people it means nothing. "and then there are other people," fire the goat went on. "there are other people who understand shadows. the fire-born understand. the fire-born know where shadows come from and why they are. "long ago, when the makers of the world were done making the round earth, the time came when they were ready to make the animals to put on the earth. they were not sure how to make the animals. they did not know what shape animals they wanted. "and so they practised. they did not make real animals at first. they made only shapes of animals. and these shapes were shadows, shadows like these you and i, fire the goat and flim the goose, are looking at this morning across the booming rollers on the east sky where the sun is coming up. "the shadow horse over there on the east sky with his mouth open, his ears laid back, and his front legs thrown in a curve like harvest sickles, that shadow horse was one they made long ago when they were practising to make a real horse. that shadow horse was a mistake and they threw him away. never will you see two shadow horses alike. all shadow horses on the sky are different. each one is a mistake, a shadow horse thrown away because he was not good enough to be a real horse. "that elephant with no head on his neck, stumbling so grand on six legs--and that grand camel with two humps, one bigger than the other--and those cows with horns in front and behind--they are all mistakes, they were all thrown away because they were not made good enough to be real elephants, real cows, real camels. they were made just for practice, away back early in the world before any real animals came on their legs to eat and live and be here like the rest of us. "that man--see him now staggering along with the club over his shoulder--see how his long arms come to his knees and sometimes his hands drag below his feet. see how heavy the club on his shoulders loads him down and drags him on. he is one of the oldest shadow men. he was a mistake and they threw him away. he was made just for practice. "and that woman. see her now at the end of that procession across the booming rollers on the east sky. see her the last of all, the end of the procession. on the back of her neck a bundle. sometimes the bundle gets bigger. the woman staggers. her legs get bigger and stronger. she picks herself up and goes along shaking her head. she is the same as the others. she is a shadow and she was made as a mistake. early, early in the beginnings of the world she was made, for practice. "listen, flim the goose. what i am telling you is a secret of the fire-born. i do not know whether you understand. we have slept together a night on the sand flats next to the booming rollers, under the stub pines with the stars high over--and so i tell what the fathers of the fire-born tell their sons." and that day fire the goat and flim the goose moved along the sand flat shore of the big lake of the booming rollers. it was a blue day, with a fire-blue of the sun mixing itself in the air and the water. off to the north the booming rollers were blue sea-green. to the east they were sometimes streak purple, sometimes changing bluebell stripes. and to the south they were silver blue, sheet blue. where the shadow hippodrome marched on the east sky that morning was a long line of blue-bird spots. "only the fire-born understand blue," said fire the goat to flim the goose. and that night as the night before they slept on a sand flat. and again fire the goat took off his horns and laid them under his head while he slept and flim the goose took off his wings and laid them under his head while he slept. and twice in the night, fire the goat whispered in his sleep, whispered to the stars, "only the fire-born understand blue." ---------------------------------------------------------------------8. two stories about corn fairies, blue foxes, flongboos and happenings that happened in the united states and canada _people_: spink skabootch a man corn fairies blue foxes flongboos a philadelphia policeman passenger conductor chicago newspapers the head spotter of the weather makers at medicine hat [illustration] how to tell corn fairies if you see 'em if you have ever watched the little corn begin to march across the black lands and then slowly change to big corn and go marching on from the little corn moon of summer to the big corn harvest moon of autumn, then you must have guessed who it is that helps the corn come along. it is the corn fairies. leave out the corn fairies and there wouldn't be any corn. all children know this. all boys and girls know that corn is no good unless there are corn fairies. have you ever stood in illinois or iowa and watched the late summer wind or the early fall wind running across a big cornfield? it looks as if a big, long blanket were being spread out for dancers to come and dance on. if you look close and if you listen close you can see the corn fairies come dancing and singing--sometimes. if it is a wild day and a hot sun is pouring down while a cool north wind blows--and this happens sometimes--then you will be sure to see thousands of corn fairies marching and countermarching in mocking grand marches over the big, long blanket of green and silver. then too they sing, only you must listen with your littlest and newest ears if you wish to hear their singing. they sing soft songs that go pla-sizzy pla-sizzy-sizzy, and each song is softer than an eye wink, softer than a nebraska baby's thumb. and spink, who is a little girl living in the same house with the man writing this story, and skabootch, who is another little girl in the same house--both spink and skabootch are asking the question, "how can we tell corn fairies if we see 'em? if we meet a corn fairy how will we know it?" and this is the explanation the man gave to spink who is older than skabootch, and to skabootch who is younger than spink:-all corn fairies wear overalls. they work hard, the corn fairies, and they are proud. the reason they are proud is because they work so hard. and the reason they work so hard is because they have overalls. but understand this. the overalls are corn gold cloth, woven from leaves of ripe corn mixed with ripe october corn silk. in the first week of the harvest moon coming up red and changing to yellow and silver the corn fairies sit by thousands between the corn rows weaving and stitching the clothes they have to wear next winter, next spring, next summer. they sit cross-legged when they sew. and it is a law among them each one must point the big toe at the moon while sewing the harvest moon clothes. when the moon comes up red as blood early in the evening they point their big toes slanting toward the east. then towards midnight when the moon is yellow and half way up the sky their big toes are only half slanted as they sit cross-legged sewing. and after midnight when the moon sails its silver disk high overhead and toward the west, then the corn fairies sit sewing with their big toes pointed nearly straight up. if it is a cool night and looks like frost, then the laughter of the corn fairies is something worth seeing. all the time they sit sewing their next year clothes they are laughing. it is not a law they have to laugh. they laugh because they are half-tickled and glad because it is a good corn year. and whenever the corn fairies laugh then the laugh comes out of the mouth like a thin gold frost. if you should be lucky enough to see a thousand corn fairies sitting between the corn rows and all of them laughing, you would laugh with wonder yourself to see the gold frost coming from their mouths while they laughed. travelers who have traveled far, and seen many things, say that if you know the corn fairies with a real knowledge you can always tell by the stitches in their clothes what state they are from. in illinois the corn fairies stitch fifteen stitches of ripe corn silk across the woven corn leaf cloth. in iowa they stitch sixteen stitches, in nebraska seventeen, and the farther west you go the more corn silk stitches the corn fairies have in the corn cloth clothes they wear. in minnesota one year there were fairies with a blue sash of corn-flowers across the breast. in the dakotas the same year all the fairies wore pumpkin-flower neckties, yellow four-in-hands and yellow ascots. and in one strange year it happened in both the states of ohio and texas the corn fairies wore little wristlets of white morning glories. the traveler who heard about this asked many questions and found out the reason why that year the corn fairies wore little wristlets of white morning glories. he said, "whenever fairies are sad they wear white. and this year, which was long ago, was the year men were tearing down all the old zigzag rail fences. now those old zigzag rail fences were beautiful for the fairies because a hundred fairies could sit on one rail and thousands and thousands of them could sit on the zigzags and sing pla-sizzy pla-sizzy, softer than an eye-wink, softer than a baby's thumb, all on a moonlight summer night. and they found out that year was going to be the last year of the zigzag rail fences. it made them sorry and sad, and when they are sorry and sad they wear white. so they picked the wonderful white morning glories running along the zigzag rail fences and made them into little wristlets and wore those wristlets the next year to show they were sorry and sad." of course, all this helps you to know how the corn fairies look in the evening, the night time and the moonlight. now we shall see how they look in the day time. in the day time the corn fairies have their overalls of corn gold cloth on. and they walk among the corn rows and climb the corn stalks and fix things in the leaves and stalks and ears of the corn. they help it to grow. each one carries on the left shoulder a mouse brush to brush away the field mice. and over the right shoulder each one has a cricket broom to sweep away the crickets. the brush is a whisk brush to brush away mice that get foolish. and the broom is to sweep away crickets that get foolish. around the middle of each corn fairy is a yellow-belly belt. and stuck in this belt is a purple moon shaft hammer. whenever the wind blows strong and nearly blows the corn down, then the fairies run out and take their purple moon shaft hammers out of their yellow-belly belts and nail down nails to keep the corn from blowing down. when a rain storm is blowing up terrible and driving all kinds of terribles across the cornfield, then you can be sure of one thing. running like the wind among the corn rows are the fairies, jerking their purple moon shaft hammers out of their belts and nailing nails down to keep the corn standing up so it will grow and be ripe and beautiful when the harvest moon comes again in the fall. spink and skabootch ask where the corn fairies get the nails. the answer to spink and skabootch is, "next week you will learn all about where the corn fairies get the nails to nail down the corn if you will keep your faces washed and your ears washed till next week." and the next time you stand watching a big cornfield in late summer or early fall, when the wind is running across the green and silver, listen with your littlest and newest ears. maybe you will hear the corn fairies going pla-sizzy pla-sizzy-sizzy, softer than an eye wink, softer than a nebraska baby's thumb. [illustration] how the animals lost their tails and got them back traveling from philadelphia to medicine hat far up in north america, near the saskatchewan river, in the winnipeg wheat country, not so far from the town of moose jaw named for the jaw of a moose shot by a hunter there, up where the blizzards and the chinooks begin, where nobody works unless they have to and they nearly all have to, there stands the place known as medicine hat. and there on a high stool in a high tower on a high hill sits the head spotter of the weather makers. when the animals lost their tails it was because the head spotter of the weather makers at medicine hat was careless. the tails of the animals were stiff and dry because for a long while there was dusty dry weather. then at last came rain. and the water from the sky poured on the tails of the animals and softened them. then the chilly chills came whistling with icy mittens and they froze all the tails stiff. a big wind blew up and blew and blew till all the tails of the animals blew off. it was easy for the fat stub hogs with their fat stub tails. but it was not so easy for the blue fox who uses his tail to help him when he runs, when he eats, when he walks or talks, when he makes pictures or writes letters in the snow or when he puts a snack of bacon meat with stripes of fat and lean to hide till he wants it under a big rock by a river. [illustration: there on a high stool in a high tower, on a high hill sits the head spotter of the weather makers] it was easy enough for the rabbit who has long ears and no tail at all except a white thumb of cotton. but it was hard for the yellow flongboo who at night lights up his house in a hollow tree with his fire yellow torch of a tail. it is hard for the yellow flongboo to lose his tail because it lights up his way when he sneaks at night on the prairie, sneaking up on the flangwayers, the hippers and hangjasts, so good to eat. the animals picked a committee of representatives to represent them in a parleyhoo to see what steps could be taken by talking to do something. there were sixty-six representatives on the committee and they decided to call it the committee of sixty six. it was a distinguished committee and when they all sat together holding their mouths under their noses (just like a distinguished committee) and blinking their eyes up over their noses and cleaning their ears and scratching themselves under the chin looking thoughtful (just like a distinguished committee) then anybody would say just to look at them, "this must be quite a distinguished committee." of course, they would all have looked more distinguished if they had had their tails on. if the big wavy streak of a blue tail blows off behind a blue fox, he doesn't look near so distinguished. or, if the long yellow torch of a tail blows off behind a yellow flongboo, he doesn't look so distinguished as he did before the wind blew. so the committee of sixty six had a meeting and a parleyhoo to decide what steps could be taken by talking to do something. for chairman they picked an old flongboo who was an umpire and used to umpire many mix-ups. among the flongboos he was called "the umpire of umpires," "the king of umpires," "the prince of umpires," "the peer of umpires." when there was a fight and a snag and a wrangle between two families living next door neighbors to each other and this old flongboo was called in to umpire and to say which family was right and which family was wrong, which family started it and which family ought to stop it, he used to say, "the best umpire is the one who knows just how far to go and how far not to go." he was from massachusetts, born near chappaquiddick, this old flongboo, and he lived there in a horse chestnut tree six feet thick half way between south hadley and northampton. and at night, before he lost his tail, he lighted up the big hollow cave inside the horse chestnut tree with his yellow torch of a tail. after he was nominated with speeches and elected with votes to be the chairman, he stood up on the platform and took a gavel and banged with the gavel and made the committee of sixty six come to order. "it is no picnic to lose your tail and we are here for business," he said, banging his gavel again. a blue fox from waco, texas, with his ears full of dry bluebonnet leaves from a hole where he lived near the brazos river, stood up and said, "mr. chairman, do i have the floor?" "you have whatever you get away with--i get your number," said the chairman. "i make a motion," said the blue fox from waco, "and i move you, sir, that this committee get on a train at philadelphia and ride on the train till it stops and then take another train and take more trains and keep on riding till we get to medicine hat, near the saskatchewan river, in the winnipeg wheat country where the head spotter of the weather makers sits on a high stool in a high tower on a high hill spotting the weather. there we will ask him if he will respectfully let us beseech him to bring back weather that will bring back our tails. it was the weather took away our tails; it is the weather can bring back our tails." "all in favor of the motion," said the chairman, "will clean their right ears with their right paws." and all the blue foxes and all the yellow flongboos began cleaning their right ears with their right paws. "all who are against the motion will clean their left ears with their left paws," said the chairman. and all the blue foxes and all the yellow flongboos began cleaning their left ears with their left paws. "the motion is carried both ways--it is a razmataz," said the chairman. "once again, all in favor of the motion will stand up on the toes of their hind legs and stick their noses straight up in the air." and all the blue foxes and all the yellow flongboos stood up on the toes of their hind legs and stuck their noses straight up in the air. "and now," said the chairman, "all who are against the motion will stand on the top and the apex of their heads, stick their hind legs straight up in the air, and make a noise like a woof woof." and then not one of the blue foxes and not one of the yellow flongboos stood on the top and the apex of his head nor stuck his hind legs up in the air nor made a noise like a woof woof. "the motion is carried and this is no picnic," said the chairman. so the committee went to philadelphia to get on a train to ride on. "would you be so kind as to tell us the way to the union depot," the chairman asked a policeman. it was the first time a flongboo ever spoke to a policeman on the streets of philadelphia. "it pays to be polite," said the policeman. "may i ask you again if you would kindly direct us to the union depot? we wish to ride on a train," said the flongboo. "polite persons and angry persons are different kinds," said the policeman. the flongboo's eyes changed their lights and a slow torch of fire sprang out behind where his tail used to be. and speaking to the policeman, he said, "sir, i must inform you, publicly and respectfully, that we are the committee of sixty six. we are honorable and distinguished representatives from places your honest and ignorant geography never told you about. this committee is going to ride on the cars to medicine hat near the saskatchewan river in the winnipeg wheat country where the blizzards and chinooks begin. we have a special message and a secret errand for the head spotter of the weather makers." "i am a polite friend of all respectable people--that is why i wear this star to arrest people who are not respectable," said the policeman, touching with his pointing finger the silver and nickel star fastened with a safety pin on his blue uniform coat. "this is the first time ever in the history of the united states that a committee of sixty-six blue foxes and flongboos has ever visited a city in the united states," insinuated the flongboo. "i beg to be mistaken," finished the policeman. "the union depot is under that clock." and he pointed to a clock near by. "i thank you for myself, i thank you for the committee of sixty six, i thank you for the sake of all the animals in the united states who have lost their tails," finished the chairman. over to the philadelphia union depot they went, all sixty-six, half blue foxes, half flongboos. as they pattered pitty-pat, pitty-pat, each with feet and toenails, ears and hair, everything but tails, into the philadelphia union depot, they had nothing to say. and yet though they had nothing to say the passengers in the union depot waiting for trains thought they had something to say and were saying it. so the passengers in the union depot waiting for trains listened. but with all their listening the passengers never heard the blue foxes and yellow flongboos say anything. "they are saying it to each other in some strange language from where they belong," said one passenger waiting for a train. "they have secrets to keep among each other, and never tell us," said another passenger. "we will find out all about it reading the newspapers upside down to-morrow morning," said a third passenger. then the blue foxes and the yellow flongboos pattered pitty-pat, pitty-pat, each with feet and toenails, ears and hair, everything except tails, pattered scritch scratch over the stone floors out into the train shed. they climbed into a special smoking car hooked on ahead of the engine. "this car hooked on ahead of the engine was put on special for us so we will always be ahead and we will get there before the train does," said the chairman to the committee. the train ran out of the train shed. it kept on the tracks and never left the rails. it came to the horseshoe curve near altoona where the tracks bend like a big horseshoe. instead of going around the long winding bend of the horseshoe tracks up and around the mountains, the train acted different. the train jumped off the tracks down into the valley and cut across in a straight line on a cut-off, jumped on the tracks again and went on toward ohio. the conductor said, "if you are going to jump the train off the tracks, tell us about it beforehand." "when we lost our tails nobody told us about it beforehand," said the old flongboo umpire. two baby blue foxes, the youngest on the committee, sat on the front platform. mile after mile of chimneys went by. four hundred smokestacks stood in a row and tubs on tubs of sooty black soot marched out. "this is the place where the black cats come to be washed," said the first baby blue fox. "i believe your affidavit," said the second blue fox. crossing ohio and indiana at night the flongboos took off the roof of the car. the conductor told them, "i must have an explanation." "it was between us and the stars," they told him. the train ran into chicago. that afternoon there were pictures upside down in the newspapers showing the blue foxes and the yellow flongboos climbing telephone poles standing on their heads eating pink ice cream with iron axes. each blue fox and yellow flongboo got a newspaper for himself and each one looked long and careful upside down to see how he looked in the picture in the newspaper climbing a telephone pole standing on his head eating pink ice cream with an iron ax. crossing minnesota the sky began to fill with the snow ghosts of minnesota snow weather. again the foxes and flongboos lifted the roof off the car, telling the conductor they would rather wreck the train than miss the big show of the snow ghosts of the first minnesota snow weather of the winter. some went to sleep but the two baby blue foxes stayed up all night watching the snow ghosts and telling snow ghost stories to each other. early in the night the first baby blue fox said to the second, "who are the snow ghosts the ghosts of?" the second baby blue fox answered, "everybody who makes a snowball, a snow man, a snow fox or a snow fish or a snow pattycake, everybody has a snow ghost." and that was only the beginning of their talk. it would take a big book to tell all that the two baby foxes told each other that night about the minnesota snow ghosts, because they sat up all night telling old stories their fathers and mothers and grandfathers and grandmothers told them, and making up new stories never heard before about where the snow ghosts go on christmas morning and how the snow ghosts watch the new year in. somewhere between winnipeg and moose jaw, somewhere it was they stopped the train and all ran out in the snow where the white moon was shining down a valley of birch trees. it was the snowbird valley where all the snowbirds of canada come early in the winter and make their snow shoes. at last they came to medicine hat, near the saskatchewan river, where the blizzards and the chinooks begin, where nobody works unless they have to and they nearly all have to. there they ran in the snow till they came to the place where the head spotter of the weather makers sits on a high stool in a high tower on a high hill watching the weather. "let loose another big wind to blow back our tails to us, let loose a big freeze to freeze our tails onto us again, and so let us get back our lost tails," they said to the head spotter of the weather makers. which was just what he did, giving them exactly what they wanted, so they all went back home satisfied, the blue foxes each with a big wavy brush of a tail to help him when he runs, when he eats, when he walks or talks, when he makes pictures or writes letters in the snow or when he puts a snack of bacon meat with stripes of fat and lean to hide till he wants it under a big rock by the river--and the yellow flongboos each with a long yellow torch of a tail to light up his home in a hollow tree or to light up his way when he sneaks at night on the prairie, sneaking up on the flangwayer, the hipper or the hangjast. [illustration] [illustration: the tell tale.] stories for helen by miss eliza leslie, author of stories for emma, stories for adelaide, etc. "our most important are our earliest years."--_cowper._ philadelphia: henry f. anners. chesnut street. entered according to the act of congress, in the year 1845, by eliza leslie, in the clerk's office of the district court for the eastern district of pennsylvania. printed by king & baird. advertisement. the following stories have been selected by the author, from a small volume originally published with the title of atlantic tales. they have been carefully revised; and she indulges the hope that her juvenile readers may derive from them a little instruction blended with a little amusement. philadelphia, october 1, 1845. contents. page. the tell-tale, 5 the boarding school feast, 28 the week of idleness, 67 madeline malcolm, 98 the tell-tale. "_how all occasions do inform against me!_" _shakspeare._ rosamond evering was one of those indiscreet mischievous girls who are in the daily practice of repeating every thing they see and hear; particularly all the unpleasant remarks, and unfavourable opinions that happen to be unguardedly expressed in their presence. she did not content herself with relating only as much as she actually saw and heard; but (as is always the case with tell-tales) she dealt greatly in exaggeration, and her stories never failed to exceed the reality in all their worst points. this unamiable and dangerous propensity of their daughter, gave great pain to mr. and mrs. evering, who tried in vain to correct it. they represented to her that as parents cannot be _constantly_ on their guard in presence of their own family, and that as grown persons do not _always_ remember or observe when children are in the room, many things are inadvertently said, which, though of little consequence as long as they remain unknown, may be of great and unfortunate importance if disclosed and exaggerated. and as children are incapable of forming an accurate judgment as to what may be told with safety, or what ought to be kept secret, their wisest and most proper course is to repeat no remarks and to relate no conversations whatever; but more particularly those which they may chance to hear from persons older than themselves. but neither reproof nor punishment seemed to make any lasting impression on rosamond evering; and scarce a day passed that she did not exhibit some vexatious specimen of her besetting sin. a few instances will suffice. mrs. evering had a very excellent cook, a black woman, that had lived with her more than six years, and whom she considered an invaluable servant. one morning, when venus (for that was her name) had just left the parlour, after receiving her orders for dinner, mr. evering remarked, in a low voice, to his lady, "certainly, the name of venus was never so unsuitably bestowed as on this poor woman. i have rarely seen a negro whose face had a greater resemblance to that of a baboon." in this remark mrs. evering acquiesced. rosamond was at this time sitting in a corner, looking over her lessons. just before she went to school, her mother thought of a change in the preparations for dinner, and not wishing to give the old cook the trouble of coming up from the kitchen a second time, she desired rosamond to go down and tell venus she would have the turkey boiled rather than roasted. rosamond went down and delivered the message; but fixing her eyes on the cook's face, she thought she had never seen venus look so ugly, and she said to her, "venus, my father thinks you are the ugliest negro he ever saw (_even for a negro_) and he says your face is just like a monkey's, only worse." having made this agreeable communication, rosamond went out of the kitchen and departed for school, leaving venus speechless with anger and astonishment; for though in other respects a very good woman, she was extremely vain, and had always considered herself among the handsomest of her race. as soon as venus found herself able to speak, she went into the parlour with her eyes flashing fire, and told mrs. evering that she must provide herself with another cook, as she was determined to leave her that very day. mrs. evering with much surprise inquired the reason, and venus replied, that "she would not live in any house where she was called an ugly neger, the ugliest even of all negers, and likened to a brute beast." mrs. evering, who had forgotten her husband's remark, asked the cook what she meant; and venus explained by repeating all that rosamond had told her. mrs. evering endeavoured to pacify her, but in vain. ignorant people when once offended are very difficult to appease, and venus had been hurt on the tenderest point. she would listen to nothing that mrs. evering could urge to induce her to stay; but exclaimed in a high passion, "i never was called a neger before. i am not a neger but a coloured woman. i was born and raised on a great plantation in virginny where there was hundreds of slaves, all among the randolphs and sich like quality, and nobody never called me a neger. and now when i'm free, and come here to philadelphy where nobody has no servants without they hires them, lo! and behold, i'm called a neger, and an ugly neger too, and a neger-monkey besides. no, no, i'll not stay; and nancy the chambermaid may do the cooking till you get somebody else. and a pretty way she'll do it in. i'm glad i shan't be here to eat nancy's cooking. i never know'd any _white trash_ that could cook; much less irish." finally, mrs. evering was obliged to give venus her wages and let here go at once, as she protested "she would never eat another meal's victuals in the house." when rosamond came from school, her mother reprimanded her severely; and when her father heard of the mischief she had caused, he would not permit her to accompany the family to a concert that evening, as she had been promised the day before. after the departure of venus, it was a long time before mrs. evering could suit herself with a cook. several were tried in succession but none were good; and to rosamond's great regret, they were never able to get a woman whose skill in making pies, and puddings, and cakes, bore any comparison to that of venus. still this lesson did not cure her fault; she still told tales, and still suffered in consequence. one day, mrs. renwick, a lady who lived next door, sent a message to mrs. evering, requesting that she would lend her a pot of red currant jelly, as she was quite out of that article, of which she shortly intended making a supply; and as mr. renwick had invited some company to dinner, some jelly would be wanted to eat with the canvass-back ducks. mrs. evering lent her a pot, and as soon as currants were in the market, mrs. renwick sent her in return some jelly of her own making. it was not nice, and mrs. evering observed to her sister, mrs. norwood, who happened to be present: "i do not think mrs. renwick has been very successful with her jelly. it is so thin it is almost liquid, and so dark that it looks as if made of black currants. i suspect she has boiled it too long, and has not put in sugar enough." next day as they were coming from school together, mrs. renwick's little daughter, marianne, said to rosamond, "my mother made some currant jelly on tuesday, and yesterday when it was cold, she gave me a whole saucer-full to eat with my slice of bread, at twelve o'clock." "she might well give you a whole saucer-full," replied rosamond, "for i do not think it was worth saving for any better purpose. she sent in a pot to my mother, in return for some she had borrowed of her. now _my_ mother's jelly is always so firm that you might cut it with a knife, and so bright and sparkling that it dazzles your eyes. i heard her tell my aunt norwood, that mrs. renwick's jelly was the worst she had ever seen, that it was as thin and sour as plain currant juice, and dark and dirty-looking beside." marianne renwick was much displeased at the disrespectful manner in which her mother's jelly had been spoken of. she let go rosamond's arm, and turning up another street, walked home by herself, swelling with resentment, and told her mother all that had passed. mrs. renwick was a lady very easily offended; and she always signified her anger as soon as she felt it. she immediately sent to a confectioner's for a pot of the very best red currant jelly, and had it carried into mrs. evering; accompanied by a note implying "that she regretted to hear that her jelly had not been so fortunate as to meet the approbation of so competent a judge of sweetmeats; but that, as she would be sorry if mrs. evering should lose any thing by it, she had sent her a pot made by one of the very first confectioners in the city; and she hoped it would be found an ample equivalent for that she had most unhappily borrowed." rosamond was in the parlour when the note and the pot of jelly arrived, and she coloured and looked so confused, that her mother immediately guessed she had been the cause of mrs. renwick's having taken offence. reproof had no effect on rosamond except for a moment; but that she might frequently be reminded of her fault, she was not allowed to taste currant jelly till the next summer. mrs. renwick, however, remained implacable; and could never be prevailed on to visit mrs. evering again. mr. evering had an aunt, the widow of a western merchant who had made a large fortune in business. after the death of her husband, mrs. marbury had removed to philadelphia, which was her native place; and, being very plain in her habits and ideas, she had bought a small neat house in a retired street, where she kept but two servants, and expended more money in presents to her relations, than in any superfluities for herself. she generally went to a place of worship in her own neighbourhood; but hearing that a very celebrated minister from boston was to preach one sunday in the church to which her nephew's family belonged, she sent a message to mr. evering requesting that he would call for her with his carriage and give her a seat in his pew, that she might have an opportunity of hearing this distinguished stranger. mr. and mrs. evering were both out when the message arrived, so that no answer could be sent till their return; which was not till evening. it was dusk, and the lamps not being yet lighted, they did not perceive that rosamond was lying on an ottoman in one of the recesses, or they would not have spoken as they did while she was present. "i am very sorry," said mrs. evering, "that mrs. marbury has fixed on to-morrow for going to church with us, for i intended asking miss leeson, who will be delighted to have an opportunity of hearing this celebrated preacher; and his discourse, however excellent, will be lost on aunt marbury, who always falls asleep soon after she has heard the text, that being all she ever remembers of a sermon. so that in reality, one preacher is the same to her as another; though she goes regularly to church twice a-day, and never could be convinced that she sleeps half the time. and then she is unfortunately so fat, and takes up so much room in the pew." "my dear," said mr. evering, "we must show mrs. marbury as much kindness and civility as we possibly can, for she is a most excellent woman, is very liberal to us now, and at her death will undoubtedly leave us the greatest part of her large property. even if we had no personal regard for the good old lady, it would be very impolitic in us to offend her." when the room was lighted, mr. and mrs. evering saw rosamond on the ottoman, and felt so much uneasiness at her having heard their conversation, that they thought it best to caution her against repeating it. "oh!" exclaimed rosamond, "do you think i would be so wicked as to tell aunt marbury what you have just been saying about her?" "you have often," said mrs. evering, "told things almost as improper to be repeated." "but never with any bad intention," replied rosamond, "i am sure my feelings are always good." "i know not," said her father, "how it is possible that people with good feelings and good intentions can take pleasure in repeating whatever they hear to a person's disadvantage, and above all to the very object of the unfavourable remarks. beside the cruelty of causing them poignant and unnecessary pain, and wounding their self-love, there is the wickedness of embroiling them with their friends; or at least destroying their confidence, and imbittering their hearts. and all these consequences have frequently ensued from the tattling of a tell-tale child." the next morning was saturday; and the servants being all very busy, mrs. evering desired rosamond to stop, as she returned from taking her music-lesson, and inform her aunt marbury that they would be happy to accommodate her with a seat in their pew on sunday morning; and that they would call for her in the carriage, as she had requested. "now, rosamond," said mrs. evering, "can i trust you? will you, for once, be discreet, and refrain from repeating to your aunt marbury, what you unluckily overheard last evening?" "o! indeed, dear mother," replied rosamond, "bad as you think me, i am not quite wicked enough for that." "but i fear the force of habit," said mrs. evering. "i believe i had better send peter with the message." "no," answered rosamond, "i am anxious to retrieve my character. rely on me this once; and you will see how prudent and honourable i can be." on her way home from her music-lesson, rosamond stopped at her aunt's, and delivered the message, exactly as it had been given to her. while rosamond was eating a piece of the nice plum-cake that her aunt always kept in the house for the gratification of her young visitors, mrs. marbury said to her, "this weather is quite too warm for the season; should it continue, it will be very oppressive in church to-morrow." "no doubt," answered rosamond, "and most probably _our_ church will be crowded in every part. i wonder, aunt, that you are anxious to go, as you certainly _must_ be, when you sent so long beforehand to engage a seat in our pew." "in truth," returned mrs. marbury, "i am willing to suffer some inconvenience from the heat, for the sake of hearing this great preacher." "but, aunt," said rosamond, "if you get sleepy, you will not hear him after all." "o!" replied mrs. marbury, "i am never sleepy in church. i am always so attentive that i never feel in the least drowsy." "o! indeed, aunt, i have often seen you asleep in church," exclaimed rosamond. "impossible, rosamond, impossible," cried mrs. marbury. "you are entirely mistaken. it must have been merely your own imagination." "why, dear aunt," said rosamond, "my father and mother, as well as myself, have all seen you asleep in church. if it was not true, the whole family could not imagine it. it was but last evening, i heard my mother say, that she wished you had not taken a notion to go to church with us on sunday, as it would prevent her from inviting miss leeson, whom she likes far better than you. she said, beside, that fat people take up so much room, that they are always encumbrances every where; and that there was no use at all in your going to church, as you slept soundly all the time you were there, and even breathed so hard as to disturb the congregation." "and what did your father say to all this?" asked mrs. marbury, turning very pale, and looking much shocked and mortified. "my father," answered rosamond, "said that, on account of your money, we must endure you, and all the inconveniences belonging to you; for if you were kept in good humour, he had no doubt of your leaving him all your property when you die." mrs. marbury looked aghast. she burst into tears, and rosamond, finding that she had gone quite too far, vainly attempted to pacify her. "you may go home, child," exclaimed mrs. marbury, sobbing with anger, "you may go home, and tell your father and mother that i shall not trouble them with my company at church or any where else; and when i die, i shall leave my money to the hospital or to some other institution. how have i been deceived! but i shall take care in future not to bestow my affection on those that have any expectations from me." rosamond, now very much frightened, declared that she could not take such a message to her parents; and begged her aunt to screen her from their displeasure, by not informing them of the communication she had so indiscreetly made. her alarm and agitation were so great, that mrs. marbury consented, out of pity, not to betray her to her father and mother; and to excuse herself from going to church with them (which she declared she could never do again) by alleging the heat of the weather, and the probable crowd. "and now, rosamond," said her aunt marbury, "do not think that i feel at all obliged to you for having opened my eyes as to the manner in which your parents really regard me. their behaviour to me, as far as i could judge for myself, has always been exactly what i wished it; and if their kindness was not sincere, i still thought it so, and was happy in being deceived. and now, after what you have told me, how can i again think of them as i have hitherto done? you have acted basely towards them in repeating their private conversation, and cruelly to your kind aunt, in giving her unnecessary pain and mortification. you have caused much mischief; and who has been the gainer? not yourself certainly. you have lost my good opinion, for i can never like a tell-tale. i had heard something of your being addicted to this vice; but till now i could not believe it. i shall not betray you to your parents, though you have so shamefully betrayed _them_ to _me_. but you may rely on it, that sooner or later the discovery will be made, to your utter shame and confusion. now you may go home, with the assurance that you can no longer be a welcome visitor at my house." rosamond departed, overwhelmed with compunction; and in the resolution (which she had so often made and so often broken) never again to be guilty of a similar fault. she gave her aunt's message to her parents, and miss leeson was invited to accompany them next day to church. two days after, mrs. evering went to visit mrs. marbury, and to her great surprise heard from the servants that she had left town with some western friends who were returning home; and that she purposed being absent from philadelphia five or six months; dividing her time among various places on the other side of the alleghanies, and probably extending her tour to louisiana, where she owned some land. her going away so suddenly without apprising them of her intention, was totally inexplicable to mr. and mrs. evering; and they justly concluded that she must have taken some offence. rosamond well knew the cause, and rightly supposed that her aunt finding herself unable to meet the family with her former feelings towards them, had thought it best to avoid seeing them for a very long time. the confusion visible in rosamond's face and manner when mrs. marbury was spoken of, aroused the suspicions of her father and mother: and on their questioning her closely, she confessed, with many tears, that she had really informed her aunt of what had passed on the subject of her accompanying them to church. but as tell-tales have very little candour where themselves are concerned, and as tale-telling always leads to lying, she steadily denied that she had been guilty of the slightest exaggeration in her report to mrs. marbury; protesting that she had told her nothing but the simple truth. from that time, rosamond was not allowed to visit or call at any house unaccompanied by her mother, who was almost afraid to trust her out of her sight. her parents avoided discussing any thing of the least consequence in _her_ presence; always remembering to send her out of the room. this mode of treatment very much mortified her; but she could not help acknowledging that she deserved it. her father received no intelligence from mrs. marbury. he and mrs. evering both wrote to her at different times, endeavouring to mollify her displeasure; but not knowing exactly where she was, the letters were not directed to the right places, and did not reach her. for a long time rosamond was so unusually discreet, that her parents began to hope that her odious fault was entirely cured. one day, her chamber having been washed in the afternoon, it was found too damp for her to sleep in with safety to her health; and her mother told her that she must, that night, occupy the room adjoining hers. this room, which was but seldom used, was separated from mrs. evering's apartment by a very thin partition; and communicated with it by a door which was almost always kept closed; the bed in each of these chambers being placed against it. rosamond, having been awakened in the night by the fighting of some cats in the yard, heard her father and mother in earnest conversation. they had totally forgotten her vicinity to them; and as tell-tales are never wanting in curiosity, she sat up in her bed and applying her ear to the key-hole of the door, she distinctly heard every word they said, though they were speaking in a low voice. she was soon able to comprehend the subject of their conversation. mr. evering was lamenting that the failure of a friend for whom he had endorsed to a large amount, had brought him into unexpected difficulties; but he hoped that he would be able to go on till the sums due to him by some western merchants should arrive. next evening, rosamond was permitted to go to a juvenile cotillon-party, held once a fortnight, at the ball-room of her dancing-master. to this place her mother always accompanied her; and while mrs. evering was sitting in conversation with some ladies, a boy named george granby, who was frequently the partner of rosamond at these balls, came up and asked her to dance. they were obliged to go to the farthest end of the room before they could get places in a cotillon; and while they were waiting for the music to begin, george, who thought rosamond a very pretty girl, asked her if she would also be his partner in the country-dance. she replied that henry harford had engaged her, at the last ball, for this country-dance. "oh!" replied george granby, "henry harford will not be here to-night; his father failed yesterday." "true," said rosamond, "i wonder i should have forgotten mr. harford's failure, when my father lost so much by him. but when the fathers fail, must the children stay away from balls?" "certainly," replied george, "it would be considered very improper for the family to be seen in any place of amusement when its head is in so much trouble, and when they have lost all they possessed." "o then," exclaimed rosamond, "i hope _my_ father will not fail till the cotillon-parties are over for the season. there are but two more, and i should be very sorry to give them up. i hope he will be able to go on, at least till after that time. how sorry i shall be when he _does_ fail." "i believe you," said george; "but what makes you talk about your father's failing? i thought he was considered safe enough." "ah! you know but little about it," answered rosamond. "i heard him tell my mother last night, that he was in hourly dread of failing, in consequence of the great losses by mr. harford, and of his own business having gone on badly for a long time. however, say nothing about it, for such things ought not to be told." "they ought not, indeed," said the boy. as soon as george granby went home, he repeated what he had heard from rosamond, to his father, who was one of mr. evering's creditors. the consequence was, that mr. granby and all the principal creditors took immediate measures to secure themselves; and mr. evering (who could have gone on till he got through his difficulties, had he been allowed time, and had the state of his affairs remained unsuspected,) became a bankrupt through the worse than indiscretion of his daughter. had mrs. marbury been in town, or where he could have had speedy communication with her, he doubted not that she would have lent him assistance to ward off the impending blow. but she had gone away in a fit of displeasure, occasioned, also, by the tattling of rosamond. mr. granby, who was the chief creditor and a man of contracted feelings and great severity, showed no liberality on the occasion; and proceeded to the utmost extremity that the law would warrant. every article of mr. evering's property was taken; and indeed, since it had come to this, his principles would not allow him to reserve any thing whatever from his creditors. the scene that ensued in the evering family, on the day following the ball, can better be imagined than described. mr. granby had at once informed mr. evering of the source from whence he had derived his information with respect to the posture of his affairs; and when rosamond found this new and terrible proof of the fatal effects of her predominant vice, she went into an hysteric fit, and was so ill all night, that her parents, in addition to their other troubles, had to fear for the life of their daughter. the sufferings of her mind brought on a fever; and it was more than a week before she was able to leave her bed. her father and mother kindly forgave her, and avoided all reference to her fault. but she could not forgive herself, and on the day that they left their handsome residence in one of the principal streets, and removed to a small mean-looking house in the suburbs, her agony was more than words can express. all their furniture was sold at auction, even rosamond's piano, and her mother's work-table. their most expensive articles of clothing were put away, as in their present circumstances it would be improper to wear them. the house they now inhabited, contained only one little parlour with a kitchen back of it, and three small rooms upstairs. their furniture was limited to what was barely useful, and of the cheapest kind. their table was as plain as possible; and their only servant a very young half-grown girl. this sad change in their way of living, added to the stings of self-reproach, almost broke rosamond's heart; and her pride was much shocked when she found that her father had applied for the situation of clerk in a counting-house, as a means of supporting his family till something better should offer. at length mrs. marbury returned; having hurried back to philadelphia as soon as the intelligence of her nephew's failure had reached her. how did she blame herself for having taken such serious offence at what now appeared to her almost too trifling to remember. all her former regard for the evering family returned. she sought them immediately in their humble retreat, and offered mr. evering her assistance to the utmost farthing she could command. to conclude, mr. evering's affairs were again put in train. he resumed his business; and a few years restored him to his former situation. this sad, but salutary lesson produced a lasting effect on rosamond; and from that time, she kept so strict a watch over her ruling passion, that she succeeded in entirely eradicating it. she grew up a discreet and amiable girl; and no one who knew her in after years, could have believed that till the age of fourteen she had been an incorrigible tell-tale. the boarding-school feast. "they hear a voice in every wind, and snatch a fearful joy." _gray._ it is a very common subject of complaint with boarding-school children (and there is often sufficient foundation for it) that they are too much restricted in their food, and that their diet is not only inferior in quality to what it ought to be, but frequently deficient in quantity also. there was certainly, however, no cause for any dissatisfaction of this sort at mrs. middleton's boarding-school, in philadelphia. the table was in every respect excellent; and a basket of bread or biscuit, and sometimes of gingerbread, was handed round to all the pupils, every morning at eleven o'clock. mrs. middleton's young ladies were strangers to the common boarding-school practice of coaxing or bribing the servants to procure them cakes and tarts from the confectioners; for the table was sufficiently supplied with those articles, made in such a manner as to be agreeable to the taste without endangering the health; and they were every day allowed some sort of fruit, of the best quality the market could furnish. at last, a young lady named henrietta harwood became a member of mrs. middleton's seminary. miss harwood had been for several years a pupil of one of those too numerous establishments, where the comfort of the children is sacrificed to the vanity of a governess, who rests her claims to encouragement principally on the merits of elegantly furnished parlours, an expensive style of dress, frequent evening parties, and occasional balls. in schools where outward show is the leading principle, the internal economy is generally conducted on the most parsimonious plan, and while the masters (who attend only at certain hours) are such as are considered the most fashionable, the female teachers that live in the house, are too often vulgar girls obtained at a low salary, and who frequently are in league with the elder pupils in ridiculing and plotting against the governess. most of the faults and follies that were likely to be acquired at a show-boarding-school, henrietta harwood brought with her to the excellent and well-conducted establishment of mrs. middleton: but she had some redeeming qualities that made her rather a favourite with her new companions, and disposed her governess to hope that all would come right at last. one evening, the elder young ladies were sitting very comfortably at their different occupations, round the table in the front school-room. the window-shutters were closed, a good fire was burning in the stove, and mrs. middleton had just sent them a basket of apples, according to her custom in the winter evenings. after finishing a very fine one, henrietta harwood exclaimed--"well--i wonder at myself for eating these apples!" _miss brownlow._ why, i am sure they are the very best newtown pippins. _henrietta._ that is true, brownie: but at madame disette's we had something better of evenings than mere apples. _miss brownlow._ what had you? _henrietta._ we had sometimes cheesecakes, and sometimes tarts; with very frequently pound-cake and jumbles; and sometimes we had even little mince-pies, and oyster-patties. _miss wilcox._ o, delicious! what an excellent governess! how could you ever consent to leave her? i thought mrs. middleton allowed us a great many good things; but she does not send us cheesecakes and tarts of an evening. _henrietta._ o, do not mistake! we might have gone without them all our lives, before madame disette would have sent us any thing of the sort. she did not even allow us apples of an evening, or a piece of bread between breakfast and dinner. why, one summer evening, she bought at the door some common ice-cream, of a black man that was carrying it through the streets in a tin pot; and when we thought that, _for once_, she had certainly treated us, she charged the ice-cream in our quarter-bills. no, no,--we got nothing from _her_, but stale bread; bad butter; sloppy tea; coffee without taste or colour; skinny meat, half-cooked one day, cold the next, and hashed or rather coddled the third. then, for a dessert, we were regaled with sour knotty apples in the winter, worm-eaten cherries in the summer, and dry squashy pears in the autumn; and once a week we had boiled rice, or baked bread and milk, by way of pudding. though after the scholars had eaten their allowance, and made their curtsies and gone up to the school-room, she always had something nice brought for herself, and her sister, and niece: and of which poor benson, the under teacher, was never invited to partake. _miss wilcox._ but how did you get such nice things in the evening? _henrietta._ we bought them, to be sure: bought them with our own money. that was the only way. when the little girls had all gone to bed, and madame disette, and madame trompeur, and mademoiselle mensonge were engaged in the parlour with their company, we all (that is, the first class) subscribed something; and we commissioned the chambermaid to bring us whatever we wanted from the confectioner's. o, what delightful feasts we had! _miss thomson._ did madame disette never find you out? _henrietta._ o, no!--we laid our plans too cunningly. and benson, the teacher, was a good creature, and always joined our party; so we knew she would not tell. _miss scott._ i am sure we never could prevail on our teacher, miss loxley, to be concerned in such things. _she_ would think it so very improper. _henrietta._ well, we must take an opportunity when miss loxley is not at home. mrs. middleton permits her to go out whenever she requests it. she does not keep her so closely confined as madame disette did poor benson. _miss scott._ mrs. middleton has so much reliance on her elder pupils, that she is not afraid to trust us sometimes without miss loxley. and we, certainly, have never yet abused her confidence. _henrietta._ o, you are undoubtedly a most exemplary set! but you never had one like _me_ among you. i shall soon put a little spirit into you all, and get you out of this strict-propriety sort of way. i do not despair even of my friend isabella caldwell, the good girl of the school. _isabella._ our way is a very satisfactory one. it is impossible for boarding-school girls to be happier than we are. our minds are not exhausted with long and difficult lessons, and with studies beyond our capacity. when school-hours are over, we have full time for recreation, and are amply provided with the means of amusing ourselves. we have a library of entertaining books; and we have liberty to divert ourselves with all sorts of juvenile plays and games. then how much attention is paid to our health and our comforts, and how kindly and judiciously are we treated in every respect! certainly, we ought to think ourselves happy. _henrietta._ ay! so you are made to say in the letters which you write home to your parents. all our french letters, at madame disette's were written first by her niece mademoiselle mensonge; and the english letters were manufactured by poor benson; and then we copied them in our very best hands, with a new pen at every paragraph. they were all nearly the same; and told of nothing but the superabundant kindness and liberality of madame disette, our high respect and esteem for madame trompeur, her sister, and our vast affection for her amiable niece, mademoiselle mensonge: together with our perfect health, and extreme felicity. in every letter we grew happier and happier. _miss snodgrass._ and were you not so in reality? _henrietta._ no, indeed,--all the happiness we had was of our own making, for we derived none from any thing our governess did for us; though we were obliged in our letters to call her our beloved madame disette, and to express the most fervent hopes that we might one day exactly resemble her; which, i am sure, was the last thing we could have desired; for she was one of the ugliest women that i ever saw in my life. _miss thomson._ but you might have wished to resemble her in mind and manners. _henrietta._ why, as to that, her mind was worse than her face, and her manners we all thought absolutely ridiculous. benson could mimic her exactly. _miss marley._ i do not wonder that your parents took you away from such a school. _henrietta._ the school was certainly bad enough. we had dirty, uncomfortable chambers; scanty fires; a mean table, and all such inconveniences. but then it was a very fashionable school; all the masters were foreigners, and above all things there was a great point made of our speaking french. we knew the common phrases perfectly well. we could all say, _comment vous portez vous_,--_je vous remerã§ie_,--_il fait beau-temps_,--_donnez-moi un epingle_,--_lequel aimez-vous mieux, le bleu ou le vert?_ and many other things equally sensible and interesting. this was what was called french conversation, and we were all able to join in it, after taking lessons in french a very few quarters. but after all, we had a great deal of fun, and that made up for every thing. madame disette and her sister and niece, always hurried over the school-business as fast as possible, that they might have time to pay and receive visits; and every evening they were either out, or engaged at home with company; so that we had nobody to watch us but poor benson, and none of us cared for _her_. and then we could make her do just as we pleased. she only got seventy-five dollars a year, for which she was obliged to perform all the drudgery of the school, even to washing and dressing the little girls; putting them to bed; darning their stockings and mending their clothes; besides doing all madame disette's plain sewing. poor benson could not afford to dress half so well as the chambermaid. so how could we have any respect for her? even the servants despised her, and never would do any thing she asked them. _miss snodgrass._ well, we all respect miss loxley. she gets a good salary, dresses genteelly, is treated with proper consideration by every one in the house, and we obey her just as we do mrs. middleton. _henrietta._ yes, and for those very reasons, we never can ask her to assist in any little private scheme of our own. benson was certainly a much more convenient person. but to resume our first subject--i do really long for a feast. _miss roberts._ well,--mrs. middleton occasionally gives us a feast as you call it; for instance, on the birth-day of the young lady who is head of her class. _henrietta._ o, but then at these regular feasts mrs. middleton is always present herself. i like to steal a little secret pleasure, unsuspected by any one that would check it. ah! you have never dealt in mysteries; you know not how delightful they are. one half the enjoyment is in planning and carrying on the plot. come now, girls, let us get up a little feast to-morrow evening. you know miss loxley will be out again, as her aunt is still sick; and the french teacher always goes home at dusk, as she does not sleep here. _miss watkins._ but if mrs. middleton should discover us. _henrietta._ no. her sister and brother-in-law are coming to spend the evening with her, and to bring a lady and gentleman from connecticut. to-morrow is the very best night we can possibly have. leave it all to me, and i will engage that there shall be no discovery; and we will get the little girls to bed very early, that we may have the longer time to enjoy ourselves. _several of the young ladies._ o, indeed we are afraid! _henrietta._ nonsense--i will answer for it that there shall be no cause for fear. why, we did these things fifty times at madame disette's, and were never once detected. come, i will lay down a dollar as the first contribution towards the feast. brownie, how much will you give? _miss brownlow._ i will give half a dollar. _miss watkins._ and i will give a dollar and a half. i have always plenty of money. _henrietta._ well done, watty. and you scotty, how much? _miss scott._ a quarter of a dollar is all i have left. _miss wilcox._ and i have only ten cents. _henrietta._ o, poor coxey! but never mind, you shall have as large a share of the good things as any of us, notwithstanding you can only muster ten cents. and now, snoddy? _miss snodgrass._ why, i will give a quarter of a dollar and eight cents. i have another quarter of a dollar, but i wish to keep it to buy a bottle of cologne water. _henrietta._ pho.--try to live another week without the cologne. _miss snodgrass._ no indeed,--i never in my life had a bottle of cologne water all to myself, to use just as i pleased; and i really have set my mind on it. _henrietta._ well, we must try to do without snoddy's other quarter-dollar. well, bob, what say you? _miss roberts._ i will give half a dollar. _henrietta._ o, bob, bob! you have more than that, i am sure. _miss roberts._ yes, i have another half dollar, but i wish to buy the book of fairy tales you told me of. _henrietta._ o, never mind buying the fairy tales! i will tell you all of them without charging for my trouble. come now, be good and give the whole dollar, and we will have an iced pound-cake. _miss roberts._ well, if you will _certainly_ tell me all the fairy tales. _henrietta._ every one of them; twice over if you choose. and now, marley. _miss marley._ i know all this is very improper. _henrietta._ just for once in your life try how it seems to be improper. _miss marley._ well then for this time only--here are three quarters of a dollar. _henrietta._ now, tommy! _miss thomson._ i have not resolution to resist. there are half a dollar and twelve cents. _henrietta._ and now, isabella caldwell,--though last not least. _isabella._ excuse me, henrietta: my contribution will be far less than that of any other young lady. in fact, nothing at all. _henrietta._ nothing at all! why miss caldwell, i did not expect this of you! i always supposed you to be very generous. _isabella._ i wish to be generous whenever it is in my power. _henrietta._ well, dear isabella, if you have no money, we will not press you. we shall be happy to have you at our little feast, even if you do not contribute a cent towards it. _all._ o, yes! we must not lose isabella caldwell. _isabella._ i am much obliged to you, my dear girls. but it is not the want of money that prevents me from joining you. i _have_ money. but i wish not, on any terms, to belong to your party; and i shall retire to my own room. in short, i do not think it right to be planning a feast without the knowledge of mrs. middleton, who is so good and so indulgent that it is a shame to deceive her. _henrietta._ then i suppose. miss caldwell, you intend to betray us; to disclose the whole plan to mrs. middleton? _isabella._ you insult me by such a suspicion. i appeal to all the young ladies if they ever knew me guilty of telling tales, or repeating any thing which might be a disadvantage to another. _all._ o, no, no! isabella is to be trusted. she will never betray us. _henrietta._ then in plain terms, miss caldwell, i really think, if you have money, you might spare a little for our feast. _isabella._ i want the whole of it for another purpose. and i shall get no more before next week. _henrietta._ well, this is very strange. i know you do not care for finery, and that you never lay out your pocket-money in little articles of dress. and as for books of amusement, it was but yesterday that your father sent you a whole box full. i _must_ say, that though you are called generous--i cannot help thinking you a little--a very little-_isabella._ mean, i suppose you would say. _henrietta._ why, i must not exactly call you _mean_--but i cannot help thinking you rather--_meanish_. _isabella._ i will not be called mean. my refusal proceeds from other motives than you suppose. _henrietta._ young ladies, i will be judged by you all. is it natural for a girl of fifteen, who likes cakes, and pastry, and every sort of sweet thing, to be so very conscientious as to refuse to join in a little bit of pleasure that can injure no one, that will never be discovered, and that all her companions have assented to with few or no scruples. no, no, isabella, i believe that your only object in declining to be one of our party, is to save your money. _isabella._ o, what injustice you do me! _henrietta._ prove it to be injustice by joining us without further objection. _miss watkins._ henrietta, we do not care for isabella's money. let her keep it if she wishes. we can afford to entertain her as our guest. i am sorry so much should have been said about it. _isabella_ (_taking her purse out of her bag._) there then; here are two half-dollars. i will prove to you that i am neither mean nor selfish. _all._ we will not take your money. _isabella._ yes, take it.--any thing rather than suspect me of what i do not deserve. and now let me entreat, that in _my_ presence nothing more may be said of this feast. change the subject, and talk of something else. or, rather, i will retire to bed, and leave you to make your arrangements for to-morrow night. the real reason why isabella caldwell was so unwilling to be a contributor to the expense of the feast, was, that she had intended appropriating her pocket-money to a much better purpose. her allowance was a dollar a week; and she knew that a coloured woman, named diana, (who had formerly been a servant in her father's family before they removed to the country) was now struggling with severe poverty. diana was the widow of a negro sailor who had perished at sea, and she was the mother of three children, all too small to put out, and whom she supported by taking in washing. but during a long illness brought on by overworking herself, she lost several of her customers who had given their washing to others. isabella had solicited mrs. middleton to allow her to employ diana, rather than the woman who then washed for the school. mrs. middleton readily consented. the weather had become very cold, and isabella saw with regret that diana came to fetch and carry the clothes-bag without either coat or cloak; nothing in fact to cover her shoulders but an old yellow cotton shawl. isabella pitied her extremely, and resolved in her own mind not to lay out a cent of her money till she had saved enough to buy diana a cloak. her father, who was a man of large fortune, had placed, at the beginning of the year, a sum of money in mrs. middleton's hands to defray isabella's expenses, exclusive of her tuition; with directions to give her every week a dollar to dispose of as she pleased. isabella had now been saving her money for four weeks, and had that morning received her weekly allowance, which completed the sum necessary to buy a good plaid cloak, and she had determined to go the following morning and make the purchase, and to give it to diana when she came to take the clothes. isabella had now the exact money; and that was the reason she was so unwilling to devote any part of it to the expenses of the feast. beside which, she could not, in her heart, approve of any species of pleasure that was to be enjoyed in secret, and kept from the knowledge of her excellent governess. she felt the usual repugnance of modest and benevolent people with regard to speaking of her own acts of charity. this reluctance she, however, carried too far, when rather than acknowledge that she was keeping her money to buy a cloak for her poor washerwoman, she suffered herself to be prevailed on to give up part of the sum, as an addition to the fund that was raising for the banquet. she went to bed sadly out of spirits, and much displeased with herself. she had seen at a store, just such a cloak as she wished to get for diana; and she had anticipated the delight and gratitude of the poor woman on receiving it, and the comfort it would afford her during the inclement season, and for many succeeding winters. "and now," thought she, "poor diana must go without a cloak, and the money will be wasted in cakes and tarts; which, however nice they may be, will cause us no further pleasure after we have once swallowed them. however, perhaps the weather will be less severe to-morrow; and next week i shall have another dollar, and i then will again be able to buy diana the cloak. i am sorry that i promised it to her when she was here last. i cannot bear the idea of seeing her, and telling her that she must wait for the cloak a week longer. i hope the weather will be mild and fine to-morrow." but isabella's hope was not realized; and when she rose in the morning, she found it snowing very fast. the cold was intense. the ground had been for several days already covered with a deep snow which had frozen very hard. there was a piercing north-east wind; and, altogether, it was the most inclement morning of the whole winter. isabella hoped that diana would not come for the clothes that day, as the weather would be a sufficient excuse; though the poor woman had never before been otherwise than punctual. but in a short time, she saw diana coming round the corner, walking very fast, her arms wrapped in her shawl, and holding down her head to avoid, as much as possible, the snow that was driving in her face. "ah!" thought isabella, "she hopes to get the cloak this dreadful morning, and to wear it home. how sadly she will be disappointed! but i cannot see or speak to her." she then tied up her clothes-bag, and desired the chambermaid to take it down and give it to diana, and tell her that she could not see her that morning. isabella could not forbear going again to the window; and she saw diana come up the area steps into the street, carrying the clothes-bag, and looking disappointed. isabella, with a heavy heart, watched her till she turned the corner, shrinking from the storm, and shivering along in her old thin shawl. "oh!" thought isabella, "how very badly the confectionary will taste to me this evening, when i think that my contribution towards it, has obliged me to break my promise to this poor woman; and that it will cause her, for at least another week, to endure all the sufferings of exposure to cold without sufficient covering." * * * * * henrietta harwood, as leader of the conspiracy, was extremely busy every moment that she could snatch from the presence of mrs. middleton and the teachers, in making arrangements for the feast of the evening. there was a great deal of whispering and consulting, between her and the elder girls, as to what they should have; and a great deal of talking on the stairs to mary the chambermaid; who, for the bribe of a quarter of a dollar, had consented to procure for them whatever they wished, without the knowledge of mrs. middleton. it was unanimously agreed that none of the _little_ girls were to be let into the secret, as their discretion was not to be depended on; and there was much lamentation that the bed-hour for the children was so late as eight o'clock. the little girls all slept in one large room, and as soon as they had gone to be prepared for bed, under the superintendence of mary, henrietta proposed that herself and six other young ladies should volunteer to assist in undressing them. "you know," said she, "there are eight of the children, and if we each take a child and leave one to mary, they can be got to bed in an eighth part of the time that it will require for mary to attend to all of them herself. just, you know, as they have quilting frolics and husking frolics in the country, when a whole week's work is accomplished in a few hours, by assembling a great many persons to join in it." this proposal was immediately assented to; and a committee of half a dozen young ladies, with henrietta at their head, adjourned to the children's apartment. "come, little chits," said henrietta, "as it is a cold night, we are going to have an undressing frolic, and to help mary to put you all to bed: for the sooner you are tucked up in your nests the better it will be for you,--and for us too," she added in a low voice aside to miss thomson. "here, rosalie sunbridge," she continued, "come to me, i will do the honours for _you_, as you are a sort of pet of mine." the elder girls then began undressing the little ones with such violence that strings snapped, buttons were jerked off, and stockings torn in the process. the children wondered why the young ladies were seized with such a sudden and unusual fit of kindness, and why they went so energetically to work in getting them undressed and put to bed. an altercation, however, ensued between henrietta harwood and rosalie sunbridge, who declared that it was her mother's particular desire that her hair behind should be curled in papers every night; a ceremony that henrietta proposed omitting, telling her that there was already sufficient curl remaining in her hair to last all the next day, and reminding her that there was no such trouble with the hair of the other little girls. "that is because they have no hair to curl," replied rosalie; "you know that they are all closely cropped. but if you will not roll up mine in papers, miss harwood, i would rather have mary to put me to bed, though you _do_ call me your pet." "well, well, hush, and i _will_ do it," said henrietta; "but it shall be done in a new way which saves a great deal of trouble, and makes very handsome curls when the hair is opened out next morning." so saying, she snatched up a great piece of coarse brown paper, and seizing the little girl's hind hair in her hand, she rolled it all up in one large curl; rosalie crying out at the violence with which she pulled, and the other children laughing, when it was done, at the huge knob, and telling rosalie she had a knocker at her back. in a short time the night-gowns and night-caps were scrambled on, and the children all deposited in their respective beds, and all hastily kissed by their undressers; who hurried out of the room, anxious to enter upon their anticipated delights. "now, good mary, dear mary," said henrietta, "do tell me if you have got every thing?" "every thing, miss," replied mary, "except the calves-foot jelly; and the money fell short of that. but i have got the iced pound-cake, and the mince pies, and the oyster patties, and the little cocoa-nut puddings, and the bottle of lemon-syrup, and all the other things. they are snug and safe in the market-basket in the back-kitchen-closet; and nobody can never guess nothing about it." just at this moment the man-servant came to tell the young ladies that mrs. middleton wished them all to go down into the front parlour to look at some prints. these prints were the coloured engravings of wall's beautiful views on the hudson, and which had just been purchased by mrs. middleton's brother-in-law, who was going to leave the city the following morning. at any other time the young ladies (at least those who had a taste for drawing) would have been grateful for mrs. middleton's kindness in allowing them an opportunity of looking at these fine landscapes; but _now_ every moment that detained them from the feast, seemed like an hour. henrietta murmured almost aloud; and they all went down with reluctance, except isabella caldwell, who had made up her mind not to partake of the banquet. in the mean time, little rosalie sunbridge, who was a very cunning child, and had a great deal of curiosity, suspected that something more than usual was going on, from the alertness of the young ladies in hurrying the children to bed. _her_ bed being nearest to the door, she had overheard the elder girls in earnest consultation with the chambermaid in the passage, and although she could not distinguish exactly what was said, she understood that something very delightful was to go on that evening in the front school-room. having a great desire to know precisely what was in agitation, she waited a short time till all her companions were asleep; and then getting up softly, she opened one of the shutters to let in a little light, as the storm had subsided and there was a faint moon. she then got her merino coat, and put it on over her night-gown, and covering her feet with her carpet moccasins that she might make no noise in walking, she stole softly into the front school-room, determined to watch all that went on. two lamps were burning on the table; but no person was in the room; the young ladies having all gone down into the parlour to look at the prints. rosalie, by climbing on a chair, managed, with much difficulty, to get on the upper shelf of a large closet; having hastily cleared a space for herself to lie down in, among the books and rolls of maps. then pushing away the chair, she drew the closet-door nearly close; leaving only a small crack, through which she could observe all that was done. presently, she saw mary come cautiously into the room with a basket, and taking out of it the materials for the feast, the girl arranged them all to great advantage on the table. when this was accomplished, she went down stairs; and immediately after, the young ladies, having looked hastily at the prints, all came up, and expressed much satisfaction at the inviting appearance of the banquet. isabella lighted a small lamp, and said she was going to bed. "why, caldwell," exclaimed henrietta, "are you absolutely in earnest? what, after contributing to the expense of the feast, will you really leave us before it begins, and go dismally to bed? see how nice every thing looks." "every thing, indeed, looks nice," replied isabella, "but still i have no desire to partake of them. i am out of spirits, and i have other reasons for not wishing to join your party." "just take something before you go," said henrietta. "no," answered isabella, "i feel as if i could not taste a single article on the table." she then withdrew to her room, and her companions took their seats and began to regale themselves; henrietta presiding at the head of the table. they would have enjoyed their feast very much, only that, notwithstanding their expected security, they were in continual dread of being discovered. they started, and listened at every little noise; fearing that miss loxley might possibly have returned, or that mrs. middleton might possibly be coming up stairs. "really," said henrietta, "it is a great pity that poor isabella caldwell, after she gave her dollar with so much reluctance, should refuse to take any share of our feast. perhaps to-morrow she will think better of it. suppose we save something for her. i dare say she will have no objection to eat some of these good things in the morning." "put by one of the little cocoa-nut puddings for her," said miss scott. "and one of the mince pies," said another young lady. "and a large slice of pound-cake," said a third. "and a bunch of white grapes," said a fourth. henrietta then selected some of the nicest articles of their banquet, to offer to isabella in the morning; and after some consultation, it was concluded to deposit them, for the present, in the farthest corner of the upper shelf of the closet; which upper shelf was only used as a repository for old maps and old copy books, and waste paper, and with these the things could be very conveniently covered. "do not take a light to the closet," said miss marley, "you may set something on fire. if you stand on tiptoe and raise your arm as high as you can, you may easily reach the upper shelf." henrietta accordingly walked to the closet; and was in the act of shoving a mince-pie into a dark corner of the upper shelf, when suddenly she gave a start and a shriek, and let fall the cocoa-nut pudding which she held in her hand. "what is the matter?" exclaimed all the girls at once. "oh!" cried henrietta, "when i reached up the mince-pie to the top shelf, it was taken from me by a cold hand that met mine--i felt the fingers." "impossible," said some of the girls. "what could it actually be?" cried others. just then, rosalie made a rustling among the loose papers on the top shelf. "there it is again," screamed henrietta. "oh!" cried miss watkins, "we have done very wrong to plot this feast in secret, and something dreadful is going to happen to us as a punishment." another rustling set all the young ladies to screaming; and, with one accord, they rushed towards the door, with such force as to overset the table and all its contents. the lamps were broken and extinguished in the fall; several of the girls were thrown down by the others; and the shrieks were so violent that mrs. middleton heard them into the parlour, where, her friends having left her, she was sitting with miss loxley, who had just come in; and taking a light with them, the two ladies ran up to the front school-room. the scene which then presented itself transfixed them with astonishment. the floor was strewed with the remains of the feast. the oil from the shattered lamps was running among the cakes and pies, which were also drenched with water from a broken pitcher; near which the bottle of lemon-syrup was lying in fragments. the table was thrown down on its side. some of the young ladies were still prostrate on the floor, and all were screaming. rosalie (frightened at the uproar she had caused) was on her hands and knees, looking out from the upper shelf of the closet, and crying "o, take me down, take me down! somebody bring a chair and take me down." isabella caldwell, hearing the noise, had thrown on her flannel gown, and ran also to see what was the matter. as soon as the surprise of mrs. middleton would allow her to speak, she inquired the cause of all this disturbance; but she could get no other answer than that there was some horrible thing in the closet. "there is indeed something in the closet," said mrs. middleton, perceiving rosalie. "miss sunbridge, how came you up there, and in that dress? and what is the meaning of all this?" the young ladies, having recovered from their terror when they found it to be groundless, and miss loxley having taken down rosalie, henrietta made a candid confession of the whole business. acknowledging herself to be the proposer and leader of the plot, she expressed her readiness to submit to any punishment mrs. middleton might think proper to inflict on her, but hoped that her governess would have the goodness to pardon all the other young ladies; none of whom would have thought of a secret feast, if she had not suggested it to them. "above all," continued henrietta, "i must exculpate isabella caldwell, who declined going to table with us or partaking of any thing, but retired to her bed; as may be known by her being now in her night-clothes." mrs. middleton was touched with the generosity of henrietta harwood, in taking all the blame on herself to exonerate her companions; and as her kind heart would not allow her to send any of her pupils to bed in the anticipation of being punished the next day, she said, "miss harwood, i will for this time permit your misdemeanour to go unpunished, but i require a promise from you that it shall never be repeated. make that promise sincerely, and i feel assured that you will keep it." "o, yes, indeed, dear madam!" sobbed henrietta, "you are too kind; and i cannot forgive myself for having persuaded my companions to join in a plot which i knew you would disapprove." "go now to your beds," said mrs. middleton, "and i will send a servant to clear away the disorder of this room. rosalie, i see, has already slipped off to hers." next morning, before school commenced, mrs. middleton addressed the young ladies mildly but impressively, on the proceedings of the day before. she dwelt on the general impropriety of all secret contrivances; on the injury done to the integrity of the ignorant servant-girl, by bribing her to deceive her employer; on the danger of making themselves sick by eating such a variety of sweet things; and on the folly of expending in those dainties, money which might be much better employed. "that," said henrietta, "was one of isabella caldwell's objections to joining our feasting party. i am now convinced that she had in view some more sensible manner of disposing of her money. i regret that she was prevailed on to contribute her dollar, as she must have had an excellent reason for her unwillingness; and she seemed really unhappy, and went to bed without touching any of our good things." "i can guess how it was," said miss loxley. "one very cold morning last week, i met diana, miss caldwell's washerwoman, going up stairs with the clean clothes, and having nothing on her shoulders but an old cotton shawl. i asked her if she had no cloak, and she replied that she had not; but added, that miss isabella had been so kind as to promise her one, which was to be ready for her when she came again. i suspect that miss caldwell has been saving her money for the laudable purpose of furnishing this poor woman with a cloak." "oh! no doubt she has," exclaimed henrietta. "why, dear isabella, did you not say so? and bad as i am, i would not have persisted in persuading you out of your dollar." "the woman, however, did not get her cloak," resumed miss loxley, "for i again saw her without one, yesterday, though the weather had increased in severity." "it is true," said isabella. "the cloak was to have cost four dollars, and after subscribing one dollar to the feast, i could not buy it; as i had not then sufficient money." _mrs. middleton._ miss harwood, had you often these feasts at madame disette's. _henrietta._ oh! very often, and as the teacher, miss benson, was always one of the party, we managed so well, that madame disette never discovered us. or if she had any suspicion, she said nothing about it; for after all, she cared very little what we did out of school-hours provided that our proceedings _cost her nothing_. _mrs. middleton._ you must not speak so disrespectfully of your former governess. but i will explain to you that _i_ care very much what you do, even in your hours of recreation. it is when the business of the school is over, and they are no longer in the presence of their instructors, that girls are in the greatest danger of forming bad habits, and imitating bad examples. all deceit, all tricks, are highly unjustifiable. a little feast may seem in itself of small moment; but if you persist in plotting little feasts, you will eventually be led on to plot things of more importance, and which may lead to the worst consequences. then, as i always allow you as large a portion of sweet things as comports with your health, it is the more reprehensible in you to seek to procure them for yourselves, without my knowledge. tell me now, do any of you feel the better for last night's frolic? _miss thomson._ o, no, no! miss watkins and miss roberts were sick all night; and, indeed, none of us feel very well this morning. _mrs. middleton._ i observed that you all had very little appetite for your breakfast. _miss brownlow._ and then _i_ had my new frock spoiled when i fell down in the lamp-oil. _miss wilcox._ and i got some lamp-oil into my mouth. i tasted it all night. even my nose was rubbed in it, as i lay struggling on the floor. _miss snodgrass._ and _i_ fell with my knees on half a dozen pieces of orange, and stained my black silk frock, so that it is no longer fit to wear. _miss marley._ and _i_ was thrown down with the back of my head on a bunch of grapes, mashing them to a jelly. _miss scott._ but _my_ hair was so very sticky, with falling into the lemon syrup, that i was obliged, this morning, to wash it all over with warm soap-suds. _miss roberts._ and _i_ put my foot into the bottom of the broken pitcher, and cut my heel so that it bled through the stocking. _miss watkins._ still, nothing of this would have happened if rosalie sunbridge had stayed in her bed. it was her hiding in the closet and frightening us, that caused all the mischief. _rosalie._ i am sure i was punished enough for my curiosity; for when i got on the closet-shelf i was obliged to lie so cramped that i was almost stiff; and i was half dead with cold, notwithstanding i had put on my merino coat. and then i was longing all the time for some of the good things i saw you eating; so that when miss harwood came to hide the mince-pie, i could not forbear taking it out of her hand. when i found that you were all so terrified, i thought i would make a noise among the loose papers to frighten you still more, supposing that you would all quit the room; and that then i could come down from the shelf, and regale myself awhile, before i stole back to-bed. i did not foresee that you would overset the table in your flight, and make such a violent noise. but i will never again attempt to pry into other people's secrets. _mrs middleton._ i hope you never will. this feast, you see, has caused nothing but discomfort, which is the case with all things that are in themselves improper. yet i think the greatest sufferer is isabella caldwell's washerwoman, who has, in consequence, been disappointed of her cloak. _isabella._ next week, madam, when i receive my allowance, i hope to be able to buy it for her. _mrs. middleton._ you need not wait till next week. the poor woman shall suffer no longer for a cloak. here is a dollar in advance; and after school, you can go out and purchase it, so that it may be ready for her to-morrow when she brings home your clothes. _isabella._ dear mrs. middleton, how much i thank you. * * * * * the young ladies having promised that they would attempt no more private feasts, mrs. middleton kissed, and forgave them. after school, isabella, accompanied by miss loxley, went out and bought the plaid cloak, which was sent home directly. next day, she longed for diana to arrive with the clothes, that she might enjoy her pleasure on receiving so useful a gift, but, to her great disappointment they were brought home by another mulatto woman, who informed isabella that she was diana's next door neighbour, and that poor diana having taken a violent cold from being out in the snow-storm, was now confined to her bed with the rheumatism. "ah!" thought isabella, "perhaps if she had had this good warm cloak to go home in, the day before yesterday, she might have escaped the rheumatism. i see now that whenever we allow ourselves to be persuaded to do a thing which we know to be wrong, evil is sure to come from it." she desired the woman to wait a few minutes; and hastening to mrs. middleton, begged that she would allow her to go and see poor diana, who, she feared was in great distress. mrs. middleton readily consented, and had a basket filled with various things, which she gave to the woman to carry with the plaid cloak to diana. she sent by isabella a bottle of camphor, and some cotton wadding, for diana's rheumatism, and a medicine for her to take internally. miss loxley accompanied isabella; and they found diana in bed and very ill, and every thing about her evincing extreme poverty. isabella engaged the woman to stay with diana till she got well, and to take care of her and her children, promising to pay her for her trouble. when they returned and made their report to mrs. middleton, she wrote a note to her physician, requesting him to visit diana and attend her as long as was necessary. next week, henrietta harwood, and the other young ladies, subscribed all their allowance of pocket-money for the relief of diana; who very soon was well enough to resume her work. it is unnecessary to add that their contribution to the support of the poor woman and her family, gave them far more pleasure than they had derived from the unfortunate feast. they never, of course, attempted another. and henrietta harwood, at mrs. middleton's school, lost all the faults she had acquired at madame disette's. the week of idleness. "their only labour was to kill the time, and labour dire it was, and weary wo." _thomson._ adelaide and rosalind, the daughters of mr. edington, looked forward with much pleasure to the arrival of their cousin, josephine sherborough, from maryland. she was to spend the summer with them, at their father's country residence on the beautiful bay of new york, a few miles below the city; and, though they had never seen her, they were disposed to regard josephine as a very agreeable addition to their family society. having had the misfortune to lose their mother, adelaide and rosalind had been for several years under the entire care of their governess, mrs. mortlake; a highly accomplished and most amiable woman, whom they loved and respected as if she had been their parent, and by whose instructions they had greatly profited. it was on a beautiful evening in june, that josephine sherborough was _certainly_ expected, after several disappointments within the last two or three weeks. the miss edingtons and their governess were seated on one of the settees in the portico that extended along the front of mr. edington's house. mrs. mortlake was sewing, rosalind reading aloud, and adelaide, with her drawing materials before her, was earnestly engaged in colouring a sketch of a fishing-boat at anchor, beautifully reflected in the calm water, and tinted with the glowing rays of the declining sun. as she put in the last touches, she hoped, before the summer was over, that she should improve so much in her drawing as to be enabled to attempt a view of the bay with its green shores; its island fortresses; and its numerous ships, some going out on a voyage to distant regions, others coming home with the merchandise and the news of europe. "now," exclaimed adelaide, "i see the smoke of the steamboat, just behind castle williams. my father and josephine will soon be here. i am glad my drawing is so nearly completed. in a few minutes it will be finished." "and in a few minutes," said rosalind, "i shall conclude the story that i am reading." "do you not now think," asked mrs. mortlake, "i was right in proposing that we should protract our usual afternoon occupations an hour beyond the usual time, as we are expecting the arrival of your father and your cousin? this last hour would have seemed twice its real length, if we had done nothing, all the while, but strain our eyes in gazing up the bay for the steamboat, saying every few minutes, 'oh, i wish they were come!'" in a short time, adelaide exclaimed, "here is the steamboat. i see they are depositing several trunks in the little boat at the side. and now it is let down to the water. and now a gentleman and a young lady descend the steps, and take their seats in it. how fast it cuts its way through the foam that is raised by the tow-line. in a moment it will touch the wharf. here they come. there is my father; and it _must_ be josephine that is with him!" the sisters then ran down the steps of the portico, and in a moment were at the landing-place, where mr. edington, as soon as he had assisted her to step on shore, introduced them to josephine sherborough, a fat, fair, pale young lady, about fourteen, with a remarkably placid countenance which immediately won the regard of rosalind: who determined in her own mind that josephine was a very sweet girl, and that they should, ever hereafter, be intimate and most particular friends. adelaide, who was two years older than rosalind, and who had more penetration, was not so violently prepossessed in favour of her cousin, whose face she thought deficient in animation, and whose movements were more slow and heavy than those of any young girl she had ever seen. when tea was over, the sisters proposed to josephine a walk round the garden, which was large and very beautiful; but she complained of being excessively tired, and said that she would much rather go to bed. this somewhat surprised her cousins, as they knew that josephine had been three days in the city with the friends under whose care she had come from maryland; and they thought that she must have had ample time to recover from the fatigue of her journey: to which her last little trip in the steamboat could not have added much. rosalind, who was a year younger than josephine, accompanied her to the chamber prepared for her accommodation, where josephine, looking round disconsolately, inquired if there was no servant to undress her. rosalind volunteered to perform this office; and josephine said she would ring the bell for one of the maids, when she wished to get up in the morning. she kept the family waiting breakfast for her till nine o'clock, and then came down in a white slip or loose gown; her hair still pinned up; her eyes half shut; and her face evidently not washed. mr. edington, whose business in the city made it necessary for him to be there at an early hour, had long since breakfasted, and gone up to town in the boat; and after a few days, the rest of the family ceased to wait for her; and the housekeeper was directed to have a fresh breakfast prepared for miss sherborough whenever she came down. the first days of josephine's visit ought, in rosalind's opinion, to have been devoted entirely to the amusement of their guest, and she was urgent with mrs. mortlake, to allow adelaide and herself a week of holiday. their governess told them that she would have been willing to grant this indulgence if josephine was to remain with them a week only: but as she was to stay all summer, it would, of course, be impossible for them, every day, to give up their usual occupations; and therefore it was better to begin as they were to go on. she reminded rosalind that if they were attentive and industrious, they would get through their lessons the sooner, and have the more time for recreation with their visitor. after josephine had breakfasted, mrs. mortlake offered to show her the children's library, that she might amuse herself with any of the books she chose, while her cousins were engaged in their morning employments. josephine thanked her; but said she could entertain herself very well without books, and that she believed she would take a walk in the garden. she accordingly put on her bonnet, and strolled up and down the walks, gazing listlessly at the flowers. she attempted to gather some strawberries, but found it too fatiguing to stoop down to the beds; and satisfied herself with plucking currants and gooseberries from the bushes. she then sat in the arbour for awhile, and looked all the time straight down the middle walk. when she was tired of the arbour, she established herself on a circular bench which ran round a large walnut tree; and then she counted all the windows at the back part of the house. when this was accomplished, she counted them all over again. and then, finding the sun had become very powerful, she went into the front-parlour, the shutters of which were bowed to exclude the heat, and throwing herself at full length on the sofa, she in a few minutes fell into a profound sleep, from which she did not awaken till her cousins entered the room in search of her, after their lessons were over. they took her up stairs into the apartment they called their play-room, and showed her a variety of things which would have been very amusing to a girl that knew how to be amused. there was a lacquered chinese cabinet, containing a great number of curiosities brought by their uncle from canton: and a large box with shelves, on which were various specimens of indian ingenuity, presented to the children by a gentleman who had travelled all over the country beyond the mississippi. their library consisted of a beautiful and entertaining selection of juvenile books; and they had a port-folio filled with fine prints of such subjects as are particularly interesting to young people. they showed her a representation of the grand procession at the coronation of the sovereign of england, printed on a long narrow roll of paper pasted on silk; which paper was unwound like a ribbon-yard from a tunbridge-ware box, and it could be screwed up again after being sufficiently seen. it was many yards in length, and the figures (which were almost innumerable) were elegantly designed, and beautifully coloured. they had also a little theatre, with a great number of scenes; and a variety of very small dolls, dressed in appropriate habits to personate the actors. beside all these things, they had a closet full of amusing toys; and in short the play-room was amply stored with a profusion of whatever was necessary to the enjoyment of their leisure hours. but all was lost on josephine. while adelaide and rosalind were assiduous in showing and explaining to her every thing, she heard them with listlessness and apathy, and made not the slightest remark. at last, she said "we will reserve some of these sights for to-morrow. i must go and dress myself for dinner. oh! how i hate to dress. it is an odious task. i must have mary to assist me again; for i never _can_ get through the fatigue of dressing myself, and fixing my hair." in the afternoon, adelaide and rosalind took their sewing, and seated themselves with mrs. mortlake in the porch. as josephine appeared to have no work, mrs. mortlake gave her a volume of miss edgeworth's moral tales, and requested her to read one of them aloud. josephine took the book and began to read "the prussian vase," but with so monotonous and inarticulate a tone, or rather drawl, that it was painful to hear her: and her cousins were not sorry when, at the end of three or four pages, she stopped, and complained that she was too much fatigued to read any more. mrs. mortlake then desired adelaide, who read extremely well, to take the book and continue the story, but in a short time josephine was discovered to be asleep. when adelaide ceased reading, josephine awoke, and saying that she could not live without her afternoon nap, went up stairs to lie down on her bed. she slept till near tea-time, and when tea was over, her cousins and mrs. mortlake prepared for a walk, and invited josephine to join them. this she did; but in less than ten minutes she complained so much of fatigue, that rosalind turned back and accompanied her home, and she reclined on the settee in the porch till the lamps were lighted in the front-parlour. the girls then showed josephine a portable diorama, containing twelve beautiful coloured views of castles, abbeys, temples, and mountain scenery. each of these exquisite little landscapes was fixed, in turn, as the back scene of a sort of miniature stage. the skies and lights of these views were all transparent, and there were other skies which turned on rollers, and represented sunrise, moonlight, sunshine, and thunder-clouds. these second skies being placed behind those of the picture, were slowly unrolled by turning a small handle, and produced the most varied and beautiful effects on the scenery, which could thus at pleasure be illuminated gradually with sunshine or moonbeams, or darkened with the clouds of a gathering storm. but josephine saw this charming exhibition without a single comment; being evidently much inclined to yawn as she looked at it. and getting again very sleepy, she soon retired to her bed. next morning, mrs. mortlake invited her to bring her sewing into the school-room, and sit there while her cousins were at their lessons. but josephine replied that she hated sewing, and never did any. however, she took her seat in the school-room, and a kitten soon after came purring round her; so she put it on her lap, and stroked and patted it till the lessons were over, and the girls went up stairs to amuse themselves till dinner-time. adelaide tried to induce josephine to look at some of the beautiful prints in the port-folio; but she found it necessary to explain them all, as if she was showing them to a child of three years old. rosalind proposed that they should all go on the roof of the house (it being flat on the top and guarded with a railing) to look at the beauty and wide extent of the prospect; and taking their parasols to screen their heads from the sun, they went up through a very convenient trap-door at the head of an easy little staircase. the view from the roof of mr. edington's house was certainly very fine, comprising the bay with its islands and fortresses; its boats and vessels of every description; the distant lighthouse at sandy hook, and the blue ocean rolling beyond it: and at the other end of the scene, behind a forest of masts, rose the city of new york with its numerous spires glittering in the sunlight. fine as the prospect was, josephine showed no symptom of admiration; but as they came down through the garret-passage, she spied an old rocking-chair standing in a corner among some lumber. (parlour rocking-chairs were not yet in general use.) she turned her head, and looked at it with longing eyes. "ah!" said she, "that is the very thing i have been suffering for ever since i left home. do let me beg to have it in my room." the chair, accordingly, was carried into the apartment of josephine, who immediately seated herself, and began to rock with great satisfaction; at which most interesting amusement she continued till near dinner-time. the rocking-chair was next day taken into the school-room, and with that and the kitten, josephine appeared to get through the morning rather contentedly. the afternoon was again devoted to a long nap: and in the evening josephine reclined on the front-parlour sofa, and entertained herself by running her finger a hundred times over the brass nails. several days passed on in a similar manner. one morning when they were all in the play-room, josephine said to her cousins, "what a very hard life you are obliged to endure. neither of you have a moment of rest, from the time you leave your beds in the morning, till you return to them at night. first, there is your rising with the sun, and going to work in your little gardens. i am sure you might make your father's gardener do all that business." _adelaide_. but we take great pleasure in it; and when we see our flowers growing and blooming, the interest they excite in us is much increased by knowing that we have raised them from the seed, or planted the roots ourselves; and that we have assisted their growth by watering, weeding, tying them, and clearing them from insects. and is it not pleasant to find that the fruit-stones, we planted a few years since in our little orchard, have produced trees that are now loaded with fruit? the red cherries, we had last evening after tea, were from one of my trees; and the large black cherries were from rosalind's. and in august, we shall have our own plums and peaches. _josephine_. i am sure it is much less trouble to buy these things, than to cultivate them; and as to the amusement, i can see none. then there are those awful lessons that are always to come on after breakfast. the writing, and cyphering, and grammar, and geography, and history, one day: and the french, and music, and drawing, the next: and-the reading and sewing every afternoon; and the walk every evening. even your play-time (as you call it) is a time of perpetual fatigue: your plays all seem to require so much skill and ingenuity. and then on saturday morning, to think that you are obliged to go into the housekeeper's room and learn to make cakes, and pastry, and sweetmeats, and all such things. i am sure if i was never to eat cakes till i assisted in making them, i should go without all my life. it seems to me that your whole existence is a course of uninterrupted toil. _rosalind_. there is much truth in what you say, my dear josephine. but i own it never struck me before. _adelaide_. we have always been perfectly happy in our occupations and amusements: and the longest day in summer seems too short for us. _josephine_. too short, perhaps, to get through such a quantity of work; for i consider all this as _real hard work_. i am glad that i have not been brought up in such a laborious manner. my parents love me too much to make me uncomfortable, even for a moment; or to cause me in any way the slightest fatigue. i have spent my whole life in ease and peace; doing nothing but what i pleased, and never learning but when i chose. i have not been troubled with either a school or a governess; my mother (who was herself educated at a boarding-school) having determined, as i was her only child, to instruct me at home. adelaide saw that it was in vain to argue the point any farther. but the foolish reasoning of josephine made a great impression on rosalind; so true it is, that "evil communication corrupts good manners," and she was seized with an earnest desire to participate in the happiness of doing nothing. next morning, rosalind went to her lessons with great reluctance, and consequently did not perform them well. on the following day she was equally deficient; and in the afternoon when josephine went up stairs to take her nap, rosalind, looking after her, exclaimed, "happy girl! how i envy her!" "envy her!" said adelaide, "of all the people i am acquainted with, i think josephine sherborough is the least to be envied." _rosalind._ she is not troubled with lessons, and sewing, as we are. she can do whatever she pleases the whole day long. no wonder she is fat, when she is so perfectly comfortable. for my part, i expect, in the course of another year, to be worn to a skeleton with such incessant application. _adelaide._ but without application how is it possible to learn? _rosalind._ i would rather put off my learning till i am older, and have strength to bear such dreadful fatigue. _adelaide._ i do not find it fatiguing. i am sure our lessons are not very long, and mrs. mortlake is so kind and gentle, that it is a pleasure to be instructed by her; and she explains every thing so sensibly and intelligibly. _rosalind._ but where is the use of learning every thing before we grow up? _adelaide._ because, as mrs. mortlake says, children (if they are not _too young_) learn faster than grown persons; their memories are better, as they have not yet been overloaded, and they have nothing of importance to divert their attention from their lessons. _rosalind._ i would rather grow up as ignorant as our tenant's wife, dutch katy, than be made such a slave as i am now. i am sure katy's life is an easy one compared to mine. _adelaide, smiling._ consider it not so deeply. _rosalind._ yes, i will, for i am out of patience. i wish it was the fashion to be ignorant. _adelaide._ fortunately it is _not_. to say nothing of the disgrace of being ignorant when it is known we have had opportunities of acquiring knowledge, persons whose minds are vacant, have but few enjoyments. for instance, as josephine knows nothing of music, it gives her no pleasure to hear the finest singing and playing, even such as mrs. mortlake's. as she has no idea of drawing, she takes not the least delight in looking at beautiful pictures. having never been in the habit of reading, she wonders how it is possible to be amused with a book; and as she has no knowledge of history or geography, she often, when she _does_ read, is puzzled with allusions to those subjects; and a french word is as unintelligible to her, as if it were greek. plants and animals do not interest her, because she has scarcely an idea of the properties or attributes of any of the productions of nature. and what is worse than all, she takes no pleasure in listening to the conversation of sensible people, because she is incapable of understanding it: her comprehension being only equal to the most frivolous topics. _rosalind._ notwithstanding all this, her life passes calmly and pleasantly; and i am sure she is much happier than we are. _adelaide._ speak for yourself, dear rosalind. for my part, i do not wish to be more happy than i am. _rosalind._ well, i thought so too, till i knew josephine. and she is by no means so dull as you suppose. _adelaide._ perhaps she is not naturally stupid; but indulgence and indolence have so benumbed her understanding, that it seems now incapable of the smallest effort. at this moment mrs. mortlake came down with a book in her hand, for the afternoon reading. "rosalind," said she, "as my room is over the porch, and the windows are open, i could not avoid hearing all you have just been saying, particularly as you spoke very loudly. as i do not wish to see either of my pupils _unhappy_, i will gratify your desire, and both you and adelaide (if it is also her wish) may pass a week entirely without occupation; in short, a week of idleness." _adelaide._ o no, dear mrs. mortlake: i have no desire to avail myself of your offer. i would much rather continue my usual employments. _rosalind._ a week of entire leisure! o, how delightful! _mrs. mortlake._ but, during that time, neither you nor josephine must come into the school-room. _rosalind._ o, indeed! we shall not desire it. _mrs. mortlake._ neither must you read. _rosalind._ well!--i am sure i have read enough to last my lifetime. where is the use of reading story-books that are all invention, describing people that never lived; or of poring over voyages and travels to countries i shall never visit; or of studying the histories of dead kings. _mrs. mortlake._ you must not sew. _rosalind._ i never _did_ find it very entertaining to stick a needle and thread into a piece of muslin, and pull it through again. _mrs. mortlake._ you must not draw. _rosalind._ i do not see the pleasure of rubbing red, and blue, and green paint on little plates; and dabbling in tumblers of water with camel's-hair pencils, and daubing colours on white paper. _mrs. mortlake._ you must not play on the piano, nor on the harp. _rosalind._ well! what sense is there in pressing down your fingers first on bits of ivory, and then on bits of ebony; and staring at crotchets and quavers all the time? or where is the use of twanging and jerking the strings of a harp? _mrs. mortlake._ you must not work in your garden. _rosalind._ so much the better. then i shall neither dirty my hands with pulling up the weeds, nor splash my feet with the water-pot. _mrs. mortlake._ you may sleep as much as you please; but you must not rise before nine o'clock. _rosalind._ o, how delightful, not to be obliged to jump out of bed at daylight! dearest mrs. mortlake, if i could have a _month_ of ease and comfort, instead of only a week--_mrs. mortlake._ well,--if at the end of the week you still desire it, perhaps i may protract the indulgence to a longer period. _rosalind._ dear mrs. mortlake, how kind you are. when shall my happiness begin? as to-morrow is saturday, when we _always_ have a half holiday, and next day sunday, when we go to the city to attend church, i think, notwithstanding my impatience, i would rather commence my week of felicity regularly on monday morning. _mrs. mortlake._ very well, then. on monday morning let it be. _adelaide._ i am sorry to hear you call your anticipated week of idleness a week of felicity. _rosalind._ oh! i am sure i shall find it so; and you will regret not having also accepted mrs. mortlake's kind offer. _adelaide._ i fear no regret on that subject. _mrs. mortlake._ say no more, adelaide. wait till we see the event of rosalind's experiment. _rosalind._ i hope josephine's afternoon nap will not be as long as usual: i am so impatient to tell her. o, how we shall enjoy ourselves together! * * * * * when josephine awoke and heard of the new arrangement, she was as much delighted as _she_ could be at any thing; and she begged that rosalind might be allowed to share her chamber during this happy week. monday morning came; and rosalind (such is the power of habit) awoke, as usual, with the dawn; but soon recollected that she was not to get up till nine o'clock. she saw the light gleaming through the venetian shutters, and she heard the morning song of the scarlet oriole, whose nest was in a locust tree close to the window; and the twittering of the martins as they flew about their box, which was affixed to the wall just below the roof of the house. she heard adelaide, who was in the next room, get up to dress herself, and exclaim as she threw open the shutters, "o, what a beautiful sunrise!" rosalind felt some desire to enjoy the loveliness of the early morning; but determined to remain in bed, and indulge herself with another nap. she turned and shook her pillow, and tumbled about for a long time before she could get to sleep; and at last she awoke again just as the clock was striking seven. she had still two hours to remain in bed, and she found the time extremely tedious. "are you asleep, josephine?" said she. "no," replied josephine, "i am never asleep after this hour." _rosalind._ why, then, do you remain in bed? _josephine._ o, because i hate to get up. _rosalind._ well then let us talk. _josephine._ o, no! i never talk in bed. for, even when i do not sleep, i am not quite awake. at length it was nine; and at the first stroke of the clock, rosalind started from her bed, and began to wash and dress herself. when the girls went down stairs, they found the family breakfast had long been over, and they had theirs on a little table in a corner of the room. rosalind thought her breakfast did not taste very well; probably, because remaining so long in bed, had taken away her appetite. after breakfast, they went out and walked a little while in the most shady part of the garden. then they sat down; first in the arbour of honeysuckles, then on the green bank behind the ice-house; then on a garden chair; and then on the bench at the foot of the great walnut tree. they picked a few currants and ate them; and they gathered some roses and smelled them. for some time they held their parasols over their heads; and then they shut them, and made marks on the gravel with the ends of the ivory sticks. they looked awhile at a nursery of young peach-trees at one side of the garden; and then they turned and looked towards a clover-field on the other side. josephine pulled the strings of her reticule backwards and forwards; and rosalind counted the palisades in the fence of the kitchen-garden. at last a bright idea struck her; and she gathered some dandelions that were going to seed, and blew off the down; recommending the same amusement to josephine, who, after two or three trials, gave it up. "suppose we go to the play-room," said rosalind. josephine assented, and they slowly walked back to the house, and ascended the stairs. "now," said rosalind, "we can play domino _in the morning_. generally, we never amuse ourselves with any of those little games in the day-time; though we have domino, draughts, and loto, sometimes in the evening." they played domino awhile in a very spiritless manner, and then they tried draughts and loto, which they also soon gave up; josephine saying that all these games required too much attention. she then had recourse to the rocking-chair, and rosalind took some white paper and cut fly-traps; in which amusements they tried to get rid of the time till near the dinner-hour, when they combed their hair, and changed their dresses. adelaide did not join them in the play-room, being much engaged with a very amusing book. after dinner, rosalind, accompanied josephine to her room to take a nap likewise. but she found it so warm, and turned and tossed about so much, and had such difficulty in fixing herself in a comfortable position, that she thought, if it was not for the name of taking a nap, she had better have stayed up as usual. josephine had less difficulty, being accustomed to afternoon-sleeping; and at length rosalind shut her eyes, and fell into a sort of uneasy doze. when they awoke, rosalind proposed that they should put on their frocks, and go down into the porch, where mrs. mortlake and adelaide were reading and sewing. but josephine thought it would be much less trouble to sit in their loose gowns until near tea-time. to this rosalind agreed, and they sat and gazed at the river. but it happened _this_ afternoon that no ships came in, and only one went out; and all the steamboats kept far over towards the opposite shore. they were glad when the bell rung for tea; for when people do nothing, their meals are a sort of amusement, and are therefore expected with anxious interest. in the evening, they declined joining mrs. mortlake and adelaide in their usual long walk, and took a short stroll under the willows on the bank of the river; after which they returned to the parlour, where mr. edington sat reading the newspaper, and josephine threw herself on the sofa; while rosalind sat beside her on a chair, and played with the kitten. next morning, their amusements in the garden were a little diversified by playing jack-stones and platting ribbon-grass; and when they went up to the play-room, rosalind, looking among her old toys, found a doll long since laid aside, and a basket with its clothes. she offered the doll to josephine proposing that she should dress it: but josephine said "i would rather look at you, while _you_ do it." rosalind accordingly dressed the doll in two different suits, one after another; but soon grew tired, and had recourse to an ivory cup and ball, which she failed to catch with as much dexterity as usual. she gave josephine a wooden lemon, which on being opened in the middle, contained a number of other lemons one within another, and diminishing in size till the last and smallest was no bigger than a pea. when josephine had got through the lemon, rosalind took it, and resigned the cup and ball to her cousin, who soon gave it up, as she could never make the cup catch the ball; and she again finished the morning with her never-failing resource the rocking-chair. monday, tuesday, and wednesday having been passed in this manner, on thursday rosalind began to acknowledge to herself, what she had indeed suspected on the first day, that a life of entire idleness was not quite so agreeable as she had supposed. having no useful or interesting occupation to diversify her time, she found that play had lost its relish; and now that she could play all day, she found all plays tiresome. these three days had appeared to her of never-ending length; and she began to think that when her week of idleness had expired she would not solicit mrs. mortlake to prolong the term. on thursday afternoon rosalind gave up her nap, and went and seated herself at the open window, that she might hear mrs. mortlake and adelaide read aloud in the porch. and next morning, she actually stopped and listened at the school-room door while adelaide was repeating her french lesson; and she returned again, and stood behind the door, to hear mrs. mortlake instructing her sister in a new song accompanied on the harp. all that day and the next, she felt as if she was actually sick of doing nothing; and she absolutely languished to be allowed once more to take a book and read, or to draw, or play on the piano. even sewing, she thought, would now seem delightful to her. on saturday morning rosalind met adelaide in her brown linen apron with long sleeves, going into the housekeeper's room to assist in making cakes and pastry. she longed to go in with her, and to do her part as formerly; and her longing increased when she heard the sound of beating eggs, and grinding spice. she had hitherto looked forward with great pleasure to her holiday on saturday afternoon. now, after doing nothing all the week, saturday afternoon had no charms for her; and she was glad to find it was to be devoted to a ride in the carriage, through a pleasant part of the adjacent country. "well, rosalind," said josephine, as they were taking off their bonnets, after their return from the ride, "you have now spent a week in _my_ way. do you not wish you could pass your whole life in the same manner?" _rosalind._ no, indeed--nor even another week. this week of idleness has seemed to me like a month; and i have no desire to renew the experiment. i have never in my life gone to bed so tired as after those days of doing nothing. i find that want of occupation is to me absolute misery; though it may be very delightful to _you_, as you have been brought up in a different manner, and have never been accustomed to any sort of employment. yet, still i think you would be much happier, if you had something to do. in the evening mr. edington said to his youngest daughter, "well, rosalind, how do you like your week of idleness? are you going to request mrs. mortlake to lengthen the term of your enjoyment?" _rosalind._ o no, dear father; it has been no enjoyment to _me_. on the contrary, i am glad to think that it is now over. i have found it absolutely a punishment. _mr. edington._ so i suspected. _rosalind._ and i deserved it, for allowing myself to become dissatisfied with the manner in which mrs. mortlake chose that i should occupy myself. i am tired of lying in bed, tired of idleness, and tired of play. so, dear mrs. mortlake, be so kind as to let me rise at daylight on monday morning, to work in my garden, and resume my lessons as usual. you may depend on it i shall never again wish for a single day of idleness. _mrs. mortlake._ i am very glad to hear you say so, my dear rosalind. and i do not despair of at length convincing josephine that she would be more happy if she had some regular employment. that night rosalind returned to her own chamber, and next morning she was up at daylight. it being sunday, they went as usual to church in the city, and rosalind was now delighted to pass the remainder of the day in reading a volume of mrs. sherwood's excellent work, the lady of the manor. a book now seemed like a novelty to her. next day rosalind went through her lessons with a pleasure she had never felt before; and when they were over, she highly enjoyed her two hours' recreation after dinner. she took no more afternoon naps; and after a short time even josephine was persuaded to give them up, and found it possible, with some practice, to keep awake while her cousins or mrs. mortlake were reading aloud in the porch. finally, josephine became ashamed of being the only idle person in mr. edington's house, and was prevailed on by her uncle and mrs. mortlake to join her cousins in their lessons. by degrees, and by giving her only a very little to learn at a time, and by having constantly before her such good examples as adelaide and rosalind, she entirely conquered her love of idleness. she was really not deficient in natural capacity, and she soon began to take pleasure in trying to improve herself; so that when she returned to maryland, she carried with her a newly acquired taste for rational pursuits, which she never afterwards lost. madeline malcolm. now here--now there--in noise and mischief ever. _rogers._ "well, juliet, how is your friend, cecilia selden?" said edward lansdowne to his sister, as they were sitting by the parlour fire, in the interval between daylight and darkness. it was the evening after his arrival from princeton college to spend a fortnight at christmas with his family in philadelphia. _juliet._ i believe cecilia is very well. at least she was so when last i saw her, about five weeks since. _edward._ is it five weeks since you have seen cecilia selden? you were formerly almost inseparable. i hope there has been no quarrel between you. _juliet._ none at all. but--somehow--i am tired of cecilia selden. she is certainly a very dull companion. _edward._ dull! you once thought her very amusing. for my part, _i_ always found her so. she has read a great deal, is highly accomplished, and as she travels every summer with her parents, she has had opportunities of seeing a variety of interesting places and people. and above all, she has an excellent natural understanding. _juliet._ but she is always so sensible and so correct, and every thing that she says and does is so very proper. _edward._ so much the better. you will improve by being intimate with her. _juliet._ i never shall be intimate again with cecilia selden. she is too particular, too fastidious. she does not like madeline malcolm. _edward._ and who is madeline malcolm? i never heard of her before. _juliet._ her father is our next door neighbour. you know we did not live in this house when you were last in philadelphia. the very day we moved, madeline malcolm came in to see us, in the midst of all our bustle and confusion, and stayed the whole afternoon. she said she had long been desirous of becoming acquainted with me, was delighted that we were now near neighbours, and therefore could not forbear running in to commence the intimacy immediately. _edward._ but "in the midst of all your bustle and confusion," it must have been very in convenient to receive a visitor, and to entertain her the whole afternoon. _juliet._ why,--we were a little disconcerted at first, but she begged of us not to consider her a stranger. she was just as sociable as if she had known us for seven years; and she was so queer, and there was so much fun in every thing she said and did, that she kept me laughing all the time. _edward._ i should like to see this prodigy of fun. _juliet._ no doubt you will soon have that pleasure; for she runs in and out, the back way, ten times a-day. juliet had scarcely spoken when they heard a voice in the entry, singing "i'd be a butterfly," and madeline malcolm, a tall, black-eyed, red-cheeked girl, with long ringlets of dark hair, came flying into the parlour, exclaiming, "what, still by fire-light--i shall have to pull your peter's ears myself, if he does not mind his business and light the astral lamp sooner. o! here he comes. now, peter, proceed; and take yourself off as soon as you have accomplished the feat. well,--now that there is no longer any danger of falling over this young gentleman, i must beg leave to be introduced to him in form. i surmise that he is the most learned mr. edward lansdowne of nassau-hall, princeton. ah! i have torn my frock on the fender. just like me, you know." juliet immediately introduced her brother. "well, ned," exclaimed miss malcolm, "you have come to make us happy at last. your sister has talked so much about you that i have actually been longing for your arrival. come, tell us the best news at college. i have a cousin there, but he has not been in town since the rebellion before the last. i suppose he goes to new york to take his frolics. come, tell us all the particulars of your last 'barring out;' i suppose it was conducted according to the newest fashion. juliet, did you ever see any thing like ned's face? a sort of mixed expression; trying to smile and be agreeable, but looking all the time as if he could bar _me_ out himself." in this manner she ran on for near half an hour, juliet laughing heartily, and edward not at all. at last she rose to go away, and when juliet invited her to stay all the evening, she said she _must_ go home, for they were to have waffles at tea, and she would not miss them on any consideration. however, the tea-table in mrs. lansdowne's parlour being now set, she took a spoonful of honey which she dripped all over the cloth, and then giving juliet a hearty kiss, she seized edward's arm saying, "come, ned, escort me home. i am going in at the front-door this time, and there is always ice on our steps, so be sure to take care that i do not fall." when edward took his leave at madeline's door, she shook hands with him, saying, "am i not a wild creature? you see how my spirits run away with me." edward came back with a countenance of almost disgust. "if this is your new friend," said he to his sister, "i must say that i consider her scarcely endurable. why, she never saw me before this evening, and yet she is as familiar as if she had known me all her life. to think of her calling me ned." "ah!" said juliet with a smile, "i suspect _that_ to be the grand offence, after all. but depend upon it, you will like her better when you know her better." "i very much doubt my ever liking her at all," replied edward. * * * * * nothing could exceed the sociability of madeline malcolm. she breakfasted, dined, and drank tea at mrs. lansdowne's table nearly as often as at her father's; and she frequently ran in early in the morning, and scampered into juliet's chamber before she had risen. mr. and mrs. lansdowne (both whose dispositions were remarkably amiable and indulgent) did not approve of their daughter's intimacy with madeline. they had spoken to her on the subject; but madeline's frank and caressing manner, and her perpetual good-humour, had so won the heart of juliet, that it was painful to her to hear a word against her friend, as she called her. so her parents concluded to let it pass for the present; trusting to juliet's becoming eventually disgusted by some outrageous folly of madeline's, who seemed to think her professed volatility an excuse for every thing; and that the appellation of _a wild creature_, which she took pride in giving herself, would screen her from any resentment her unwarrantable conduct might provoke. still, as edward observed, she had a great deal of selfishness and cunning; as is generally the case with wild creatures; for when females have so little of the delicacy of their sex as to throw aside the restraints of propriety, the same want of delicacy makes them totally regardless of the feelings or convenience of others, and renders them callous to every thing like real sympathy or kindness of heart. at home, madeline was allowed to do exactly as she pleased; her father's thoughts were perpetually in his counting-house, and her step-mother, who spent all her time in the nursery, was incessantly occupied with the care of a large family of young children, of whom madeline never took the least account. and she was so much at mr. lansdowne's that juliet had few opportunities of returning her visits. she borrowed all juliet's best books, and did not scruple to lend them again to any person that she knew. some of the books were never returned; and others were brought back soiled, torn, and in a most deplorable condition. one of her jokes was to take up juliet's muslin-work, and disfigure it with what she called gobble-stitch. she came in one day and found the parlour unoccupied, and juliet's drawing-box on the table, with a beautiful landscape nearly finished. madeline sat down and daubed at it till it was quite spoiled, and when juliet discovered her at this employment, she turned it off with a laugh, insisting that she had greatly improved the picture. she found juliet one evening engaged in copying a very scarce and beautiful song, which she had borrowed from her music-master, and which had never been published in america. on juliet's being called up stairs for a few moments to her mother, madeline took the pen, and scribbled on the margin of the borrowed music, some nonsensical verses of her own composition, in ridicule of the music-master. edward presented his sister at christmas with a set of a new english magazine, which contained biographical sketches and finely engraved portraits of some of the most celebrated female authors. madeline came in soon after the arrival of the books; and having looked them over, she insisted on carrying one of the volumes home with her. next day she brought it back, with a pair of spectacles drawn with a pen and ink round the eyes of each of the portraits that, as she said, "the learned ladies might look still wiser." upon this edward immediately left the room, lest his indignation should induce him to say too much, and juliet could not help warmly expressing her dissatisfaction. but madeline pacified her by hanging round her neck and pleading that her love of fun was constantly leading her to do mischievous things; and that she was sure her darling juliet loved her too well not to forgive her. cecilia selden, a sensible and amiable girl, and formerly juliet's most intimate friend, was an object of madeline's particular dislike and ridicule; of which cecilia perceived so many palpable symptoms, that she left off visiting at mrs. lansdowne's house; to the great regret of edward. mrs. templeton, a lady that lived at the distance of a few squares, gave a juvenile ball, to which juliet and edward were invited, and also madeline with several of her little brothers and sisters. soon after juliet had gone up to her room to commence dressing, madeline came in followed by a servant with two bandboxes, and exclaiming, "well, juliet, i have brought all my trappings, and have come here to dress with _you_, that i may escape being put in requisition at home to assist in decorating the brats, who will entirely fill up _our_ carriage, so i am going to the ball in _yours_. there now, get away from the glass and let me begin." juliet removed from the glass, and throwing a shawl over her shoulders, sat down by the fire, determined to wait patiently till madeline had finished her toilet. but this was no expeditious matter. madeline always professed to be too giddy to have her clothes in order, or to think of any thing before the last moment. every article that she was to wear this evening required some alteration, which juliet was called upon to make, till lucy, a mulatto seamstress that lived in the family, came up to assist the young ladies in dressing. madeline's white satin under-frock was longer than the tulle dress that she wore over it: and after it was put on, it was necessary to make it shorter by turning the hem up all round and running it along with a needle and thread. her satin belt would not meet, and after a great deal of pulling and squeezing in vain, the only remedy was to take off the hooks and eyes and set them nearer to the ends. she desired lucy to arrange her hair for her, which was a difficult task, as madeline would not hold still a moment; and after it was at last accomplished, she declared that lucy had made a fright of her, and demolished the whole structure with her own hands, strewing the floor with hair-pins and flowers. she then called juliet to her assistance; and, in the course of time, her hair was finished to her satisfaction. when madeline was dressed, she took a lamp from the mantlepiece and setting it on the floor, that she might see her feet to advantage with her embroidered silk stockings and white satin shoes, she began to caper and dance; and in performing one of her best steps she kicked down the lamp, which splashed all over her right foot, and over the lower part of her dress, beside deluging the carpet with oil. she screamed violently, and her volatility seemed to forsake her when she held up her beautiful tulle dress bespattered with lamp-oil. juliet endeavoured to console her, and lent her another pair of silk stockings, and lucy was sent to the nearest shoemaker's to bring several pair of white satin shoes that madeline might choose from among them. but what was to be done with the disfigured frock? madeline declared she had no other dress that was handsome enough to wear that evening, and said she would rather stay away from the ball than not look as she wished. juliet, who was about the same size, offered to lend her a frock, even the clear muslin she was to wear that night herself; but madeline said that juliet's dresses were all too plain for her, and that she had set her mind upon the white silk-sprigged tulle, and nothing else. she continued to lament her misfortune, when a thought struck her that it was possible to conceal the spots of oil by arranging artificial flowers round the lower part of the dress. but juliet had no such flowers, not having yet begun to wear them, and her mother had long since left them off. madeline's whole stock of flowers, was already disposed of on her head, and she protested against taking out a single one; saying, that it required a multitude to cover all the oil-stains. at last she exclaimed, "i have just thought of it, juliet,--there are plenty of flowers in the french vases on your front-parlour mantle-piece.[a] i will have _them_. they will do exactly."--"but," said juliet, "i know not that my mother will approve of the flowers being taken out of the vases."--"nonsense," replied madeline. "what a vastly proper person you are. tell her that your volatile friend madeline took them; and she will expect nothing better of such a wild creature." [a] it was formerly the fashion to decorate the mantle-piece with artificial flowers placed in china vases under glass shades. so saying, she ran down stairs, and found edward dressed for the ball, and waiting for them in the parlour. "here, ned, my boy," said she, "off with those glass shades, and hand me out the flowers from the vases. i have kicked over a lamp and splashed my frock with oil, and i must have all the flowers i can get, to hide the stains. why do you look so dubious? i will send them safely back again to-morrow morning. what, won't you give them to me? oh! then i shall make bold to help myself to them."--she jumped on a chair, and was going to lift one of the glass shades, when edward, fearful of the consequences, stepped up and took out the flowers for her; and when she had obtained them all, she ran off with them in her lap, dropping them along the stairs as she went. when she entered the chamber, she called out to juliet, "come now, dear creature, down on your knees with a pin-cushion in your hand, and pin these flowers all nicely round my frock, so as to cover every one of the vile oil-spots." "shall _i_ do it, miss?" said the maid, who had just finished wiping up the oil that had fallen on the carpet, and which, however, left a large splash of grease. "miss juliet will rumple her dress if she stoops down to put on the flowers."--"so much the better," said madeline, "it will be an advantage to that new muslin to have a little of the stiffness taken out. come, lucy, you may hold the candle." juliet then stooped down, and in a most painful posture proceeded to pin the flowers round madeline's frock, which she did so adroitly as to conceal all the spots of oil. just as this business was completed a servant brought into the room a small red morocco case, inclosing a beautiful pearl necklace, and accompanied by a note from her grandfather, in which he requested her acceptance of it as a new-year's gift, and desired that she would wear it on that evening at mrs. templeton's ball. while juliet was admiring the necklace, madeline took it out of her hand, saying, "let me see how this looks on _my_ neck. beautiful--really beautiful. ah, juliet, it is so pretty i cannot bear to take it off again. come _i_ shall wear it this evening."--"but indeed," said juliet, "i should like very much to wear it myself; particularly as it is my grandfather's request."--"nonsense," answered madeline; "grandpa is not going to the ball himself, and how will he know whether you wear it or not? and your father and mother are both at the theatre, and are ignorant even of its arrival. i forgot to bring a necklace with me: so this comes quite _apropos_. come, i am not going to give it up this evening. possession, you know, is nine points of the law: and your white neck requires no pearls to set it off." "you know very well that my neck is _not_ white," said juliet. "well then," replied madeline, "if it is brown, the pearls will make it look browner still. positively you shall not have it to-night, if i run for it." upon which she ran down stairs into the front-parlour, and pretended to hide behind the window-curtain, to save herself, as she told edward, from the vengeance of juliet, whose new necklace she had seized and carried off. edward did not think this a very good joke; however, he made no comment, and his sister coming down immediately after, he handed her and madeline into the carriage, and accompanied them to mrs. templeton's. at the ball the volatility of madeline reached its climax. she talked, laughed, flirted, jumped, and occasionally appealed to those in the same cotillon to know if they had ever seen such a wild creature. edward, however, could not help observing her unkindness and rudeness to the little children, whom she pushed about and scolded, whenever they came in her way. two of her younger sisters were preparing to dance together, when madeline and edward, who were looking for a place, came up. "this cotillon is completed," said edward, "and so, i believe, are all the others. let us stand by, and look on. i always enjoy seeing the children dance." "no indeed," said madeline, "i had rather dance myself. here, ellen and clara, go and sit down, and give us your places." the children began to object; but she pushed them away and commenced the cotillon, saying she was determined to dance every set. the next set, however, no one asked madeline to dance. she looked very much displeased at being obliged to sit still, and was yet more so, when charles templeton brought up a very handsome little midshipman, in his uniform, who, on being introduced to both the young ladies, immediately requested the pleasure of miss lansdowne's hand for the next set. juliet stood up with the midshipman; but there was some delay in forming the cotillons, and her partner perceived that one of his shoe-strings was broken. he asked charles templeton, who was in the next cotillon, if he would put him in a way of repairing the accident; and charles desired the midshipman to accompany him to his room for the purpose. madeline, who had heard all that passed, stepped up to juliet and said to her--"juliet, as you are one of the modest people, i suppose it will embarrass you to stand here till your partner comes back again; so do you sit down, and i will stand and keep your place for you. you know i have brass enough for any thing." juliet, grateful for madeline's unexpected kindness, and feeling really some embarrassment at standing up in the cotillon without her partner, consented willingly, and took madeline's seat. in a few minutes the midshipman returned, and looked much surprised when he saw another young lady in the place of his partner; but before he had time to consider why it was so, the music commenced, and madeline began to right and left, and led off the cotillon; disappointing juliet of her dance. the midshipman, however, did not speak to madeline during the whole set; and when he had led her to a seat, he left her, and went up to edward, and expressed his surprise that miss lansdowne, after being engaged to dance with him, had substituted another young lady in her place. edward, to whom his sister had explained how it happened, repeated her account to the midshipman, who was much vexed, and went immediately to apologize to juliet, and to ask her hand for the next set, which she was obliged to refuse, as she was pre-engaged both for that set and the following. "so," said madeline, as she passed juliet on her way to the cotillon with a new partner, "you see i tricked you out of the smart young midshipman, who is the prettiest fellow in the room, and i was determined not to sit still a single set." madeline's volatility attracted the attention of the whole company, and the delight of finding herself an object of general notice gave her fresh spirits as she ran to the very top of the country-dance, oversetting a little boy on her way, afterwards romping down the middle, and throwing herself into a seat the moment she had got to the bottom. soon after, while refreshments were handed round, she took an opportunity of purposely spilling a glass of lemonade on cecilia selden's pink crape frock, and she threw a piece of orange-peel in edward's way that he might slip on it, which he did, and very nearly fell down. juliet, who had recently recovered from a severe cold, brought with her into the ball-room a very handsome blue silk scarf, which her mother had lent her, enjoining her to put it on whenever she was not dancing, as a guard against being suddenly chilled when in a perspiration. madeline, happening to look at juliet, observed the scarf and thought it very becoming. she suddenly twitched it off juliet's shoulders and threw it over her own, saying, "now, juliet, you have been beautified with this scarf long enough. it is my turn to wear it awhile." poor juliet knew not how to object, though her seat (the only one she had been able to obtain) was directly against a window, from which there was a draught of air on the back of her neck. the consequence was a renewal of her cold, and a sore throat which confined her for several days to the house. the above may serve as a specimen of madeline's various exploits at the ball. after juliet and her brother had got home, edward stood for half an hour in the middle of the parlour-floor with his bed-candle in his hand, while he expostulated with his sister on her strange infatuation for her new friend; declaring that, with all her volatility and apparent frankness and good-humour, he had never known a girl more artful, selfish, and heartless than madeline malcolm. instead of returning the flowers and the necklace on the following morning, as she ought to have done, madeline wore them in the evening to another ball; and finally when mrs. lansdowne sent for the flowers, they came home in a most deplorable state, soiled, crushed, and broken; so that they were no longer fit to ornament the vases, and some of them were entirely lost. madeline did not come in to see juliet till she knew that she had quite recovered from her sore-throat; having, as she afterward told her, a perfect antipathy to a sick-room, and a mortal dislike to the dismals. she forgot to return the necklace till juliet, with many blushes, and much confusion, at last reminded her of it. "why," said she, "you seem very uneasy about that necklace. between friends like us, every thing ought to be common." madeline, however, had never offered to lend juliet the smallest article belonging to herself. the next time madeline came, she brought the necklace in her hand. "here," said she "is this most important affair; i took a fancy to wear it round my _head_ at mrs. linton's, and i can assure you i had a great deal of pulling and stretching to get it to clasp. why did grandpapa give you such a short necklace? however, soon after i began to dance, snap went the thread, and down came all the pearls showering about the floor. how i laughed; but i set all the beaux in the cotillon to picking them up, and i suppose they found the most of them. you see i have brought you a handful. and now you can amuse yourself with stringing them again. come now, don't look so like ned.--how can you expect a wild creature as i am, to be careful of flowers, and beads, and all such trumpery? i dare say, you are now thinking that your sober cecilia selden would have returned the pearls 'in good order and well conditioned.' but i never allow any one to get angry with me: you know i am a privileged person. so now look agreeable, and smile immediately. smile, smile, i tell you." juliet _did_ smile, and madeline throwing her arms round her neck, kissed her, exclaiming, as she patted her cheek, "there's my own good baby. she always, at last, does as i bid her." the next day juliet heard that the windows of mr. malcolm's house were all shut up; but she was not long in suspense as to the cause, for shortly after, madeline came running in the back way, and said with a most afflicted countenance, "o, juliet, you may pity me now if you never did before. we have just heard from new orleans of the death of aunt medford, my father's only sister." _juliet._ i am very sorry you have received such bad news. _madeline._ oh! but the worst of it is, that it will prevent our going to the play to-night. we had engaged seats with the rosemores, in a delightful box. we were going to see the belle's stratagem, with the masquerade, and the song, and the minuet, and the new french dancers. i would not have missed such an entertainment for a hundred dollars. how very provoking that the bad news did not arrive one day later. if it had not come till to-morrow i should not have cared, for then our charming evening at the theatre would have been over. and now, to think that instead of going to the play, i must stay at home and look at my father gr