proofreading team. the tale of squirrel nutkin by beatrix potter _author of_ "_the tale of peter rabbit_" [illustration] frederick warne [illustration] frederick warne 1903 by frederick warne & co. printed and bound in great britain by william clowes limited, beccles and london a story for norah [illustration] this is a tale about a tail--a tail that belonged to a little red squirrel, and his name was nutkin. he had a brother called twinkleberry, and a great many cousins: they lived in a wood at the edge of a lake. [illustration] in the middle of the lake there is an island covered with trees and nut bushes; and amongst those trees stands a hollow oak-tree, which is the house of an owl who is called old brown. [illustration] one autumn when the nuts were ripe, and the leaves on the hazel bushes were golden and green--nutkin and twinkleberry and all the other little squirrels came out of the wood, and down to the edge of the lake. [illustration] they made little rafts out of twigs, and they paddled away over the water to owl island to gather nuts. each squirrel had a little sack and a large oar, and spread out his tail for a sail. [illustration] they also took with them an offering of three fat mice as a present for old brown, and put them down upon his door-step. then twinkleberry and the other little squirrels each made a low bow, and said politely-"old mr. brown, will you favour us with permission to gather nuts upon your island?" [illustration] but nutkin was excessively impertinent in his manners. he bobbed up and down like a little red _cherry_, singing- "riddle me, riddle me, rot-tot-tote! a little wee man, in a red red coat! a staff in his hand, and a stone in his throat; if you'll tell me this riddle, i'll give you a groat." now this riddle is as old as the hills; mr. brown paid no attention whatever to nutkin. he shut his eyes obstinately and went to sleep. [illustration] the squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts, and sailed away home in the evening. [illustration] but next morning they all came back again to owl island; and twinkleberry and the others brought a fine fat mole, and laid it on the stone in front of old brown's doorway, and said-"mr. brown, will you favour us with your gracious permission to gather some more nuts?" [illustration] but nutkin, who had no respect, began to dance up and down, tickling old mr. brown with a _nettle_ and singing- "old mr. b! riddle-me-ree! hitty pitty within the wall, hitty pitty without the wall; if you touch hitty pitty, hitty pitty will bite you!" mr. brown woke up suddenly and carried the mole into his house. [illustration] he shut the door in nutkin's face. presently a little thread of blue _smoke_ from a wood fire came up from the top of the tree, and nutkin peeped through the key-hole and sang- "a house full, a hole full! and you cannot gather a bowl-full!" [illustration] the squirrels searched for nuts all over the island and filled their little sacks. but nutkin gathered oak-apples--yellow and scarlet--and sat upon a beech-stump playing marbles, and watching the door of old mr. brown. [illustration] on the third day the squirrels got up very early and went fishing; they caught seven fat minnows as a present for old brown. they paddled over the lake and landed under a crooked chestnut tree on owl island. [illustration] twinkleberry and six other little squirrels each carried a fat minnow; but nutkin, who had no nice manners, brought no present at all. he ran in front, singing- "the man in the wilderness said to me, 'how many strawberries grow in the sea?' i answered him as i thought good- 'as many red herrings as grow in the wood.'" but old mr. brown took no interest in riddles--not even when the answer was provided for him. [illustration] on the fourth day the squirrels brought a present of six fat beetles, which were as good as plums in _plum-pudding_ for old brown. each beetle was wrapped up carefully in a dock-leaf, fastened with a pine-needle pin. but nutkin sang as rudely as ever- "old mr. b! riddle-me-ree flour of england, fruit of spain, met together in a shower of rain; put in a bag tied round with a string, if you'll tell me this riddle, i'll give you a ring!" which was ridiculous of nutkin, because he had not got any ring to give to old brown. [illustration] the other squirrels hunted up and down the nut bushes; but nutkin gathered robin's pincushions off a briar bush, and stuck them full of pine-needle pins. [illustration] on the fifth day the squirrels brought a present of wild honey; it was so sweet and sticky that they licked their fingers as they put it down upon the stone. they had stolen it out of a bumble _bees'_ nest on the tippitty top of the hill. but nutkin skipped up and down, singing- "hum-a-bum! buzz! buzz! hum-a-bum buzz! as i went over tipple-tine i met a flock of bonny swine; some yellow-nacked, some yellow backed! they were the very bonniest swine that e'er went over tipple-tine." [illustration] old mr. brown turned up his eyes in disgust at the impertinence of nutkin. but he ate up the honey! [illustration] the squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts. but nutkin sat upon a big flat rock, and played ninepins with a crab apple and green fir-cones. [illustration] on the sixth day, which was saturday, the squirrels came again for the last time; they brought a new-laid _egg_ in a little rush basket as a last parting present for old brown. but nutkin ran in front laughing, and shouting- "humpty dumpty lies in the beck, with a white counterpane round his neck, forty doctors and forty wrights, cannot put humpty dumpty to rights!" [illustration] now old mr. brown took an interest in eggs; he opened one eye and shut it again. but still he did not speak. [illustration] nutkin became more and more impertinent- "old mr. b! old mr. b! hickamore, hackamore, on the king's kitchen door; all the king's horses, and all the king's men, couldn't drive hickamore, hackamore, off the king's kitchen door." nutkin danced up and down like a _sunbeam_; but still old brown said nothing at all. [illustration] nutkin began again- "arthur o'bower has broken his band, he comes roaring up the land! the king of scots with all his power, cannot turn arthur of the bower!" nutkin made a whirring noise to sound like the _wind_, and he took a running jump right onto the head of old brown!... then all at once there was a flutterment and a scufflement and a loud "squeak!" the other squirrels scuttered away into the bushes. [illustration] when they came back very cautiously, peeping round the tree--there was old brown sitting on his door-step, quite still, with his eyes closed, as if nothing had happened. * * * * * _but nutkin was in his waistcoat pocket!_ [illustration] this looks like the end of the story; but it isn't. [illustration] old brown carried nutkin into his house, and held him up by the tail, intending to skin him; but nutkin pulled so very hard that his tail broke in two, and he dashed up the staircase and escaped out of the attic window. [illustration] and to this day, if you meet nutkin up a tree and ask him a riddle, he will throw sticks at you, and stamp his feet and scold, and shout-"cuck-cuck-cuck-cur-r-r-cuck-k-k!" the end the tale of timmy tiptoes [illustration] by beatrix potter author of "the tale of peter rabbit," etc. [illustration] frederick warne & co., inc. new york 1911 by frederick warne & co. printed in the u.s.a. by princeton polychrome press binding by a. horowitz & son for many unknown little friends, including monica [illustration] once upon a time there was a little fat comfortable grey squirrel, called timmy tiptoes. he had a nest thatched with leaves in the top of a tall tree; and he had a little squirrel wife called goody. [illustration] timmy tiptoes sat out, enjoying the breeze; he whisked his tail and chuckled--"little wife goody, the nuts are ripe; we must lay up a store for winter and spring." goody tiptoes was busy pushing moss under the thatch--"the nest is so snug, we shall be sound asleep all winter." "then we shall wake up all the thinner, when there is nothing to eat in spring-time," replied prudent timothy. [illustration] when timmy and goody tiptoes came to the nut thicket, they found other squirrels were there already. timmy took off his jacket and hung it on a twig; they worked away quietly by themselves. [illustration] every day they made several journeys and picked quantities of nuts. they carried them away in bags, and stored them in several hollow stumps near the tree where they had built their nest. [illustration] when these stumps were full, they began to empty the bags into a hole high up a tree, that had belonged to a wood-pecker; the nuts rattled down--down--down inside. "how shall you ever get them out again? it is like a money-box!" said goody. "i shall be much thinner before spring-time, my love," said timmy tiptoes, peeping into the hole. [illustration] they did collect quantities--because they did not lose them! squirrels who bury their nuts in the ground lose more than half, because they cannot remember the place. the most forgetful squirrel in the wood was called silvertail. he began to dig, and he could not remember. and then he dug again and found some nuts that did not belong to him; and there was a fight. and other squirrels began to dig,--the whole wood was in commotion! [illustration] unfortunately, just at this time a flock of little birds flew by, from bush to bush, searching for green caterpillars and spiders. there were several sorts of little birds, twittering different songs. the first one sang--"who's bin digging-up _my_ nuts? who's-been-digging-up _my_ nuts?" and another sang--"little bita bread and-_no_-cheese! little bit-a-bread an'-_no_-cheese!" [illustration] the squirrels followed and listened. the first little bird flew into the bush where timmy and goody tiptoes were quietly tying up their bags, and it sang--"who's-bin digging-up _my_ nuts? who's been digging-up _my_-nuts?" timmy tiptoes went on with his work without replying; indeed, the little bird did not expect an answer. it was only singing its natural song, and it meant nothing at all. [illustration] but when the other squirrels heard that song, they rushed upon timmy tiptoes and cuffed and scratched him, and upset his bag of nuts. the innocent little bird which had caused all the mischief, flew away in a fright! timmy rolled over and over, and then turned tail and fled towards his nest, followed by a crowd of squirrels shouting--"who's-been digging-up _my_-nuts?" [illustration] they caught him and dragged him up the very same tree, where there was the little round hole, and they pushed him in. the hole was much too small for timmy tiptoes' figure. they squeezed him dreadfully, it was a wonder they did not break his ribs. "we will leave him here till he confesses," said silvertail squirrel, and he shouted into the hole-"who's-been-digging-up _my_-nuts?" [illustration] timmy tiptoes made no reply; he had tumbled down inside the tree, upon half a peck of nuts belonging to himself. he lay quite stunned and still. [illustration] goody tiptoes picked up the nut bags and went home. she made a cup of tea for timmy; but he didn't come and didn't come. goody tiptoes passed a lonely and unhappy night. next morning she ventured back to the nut-bushes to look for him; but the other unkind squirrels drove her away. she wandered all over the wood, calling-"timmy tiptoes! timmy tiptoes! oh, where is timmy tiptoes?" [illustration] in the meantime timmy tiptoes came to his senses. he found himself tucked up in a little moss bed, very much in the dark, feeling sore; it seemed to be under ground. timmy coughed and groaned, because his ribs hurted him. there was a chirpy noise, and a small striped chipmunk appeared with a night light, and hoped he felt better? it was most kind to timmy tiptoes; it lent him its night-cap; and the house was full of provisions. [illustration] the chipmunk explained that it had rained nuts through the top of the tree--"besides, i found a few buried!" it laughed and chuckled when it heard timmy's story. while timmy was confined to bed, it 'ticed him to eat quantities--"but how shall i ever get out through that hole unless i thin myself? my wife will be anxious!" "just another nut--or two nuts; let me crack them for you," said the chipmunk. timmy tiptoes grew fatter and fatter! [illustration] now goody tiptoes had set to work again by herself. she did not put any more nuts into the woodpecker's hole, because she had always doubted how they could be got out again. she hid them under a tree root; they rattled down, down, down. once when goody emptied an extra big bagful, there was a decided squeak; and next time goody brought another bagful, a little striped chipmunk scrambled out in a hurry. [illustration] "it is getting perfectly full-up down-stairs; the sitting-room is full, and they are rolling along the passage; and my husband, chippy hackee, has run away and left me. what is the explanation of these showers of nuts?" "i am sure i beg your pardon; i did not know that anybody lived here," said mrs. goody tiptoes; "but where is chippy hackee? my husband, timmy tiptoes, has run away too." "i know where chippy is; a little bird told me," said mrs. chippy hackee. [illustration] she led the way to the woodpecker's tree, and they listened at the hole. down below there was a noise of nut crackers, and a fat squirrel voice and a thin squirrel voice were singing together- "my little old man and i fell out, how shall we bring this matter about? bring it about as well as you can, and get you gone, you little old man!" [illustration] "you could squeeze in, through that little round hole," said goody tiptoes. "yes, i could," said the chipmunk, "but my husband, chippy hackee, bites!" down below there was a noise of cracking nuts and nibbling; and then the fat squirrel voice and the thin squirrel voice sang- "for the diddlum day day diddle dum di! day diddle diddle dum day!" [illustration] then goody peeped in at the hole, and called down--"timmy tiptoes! oh fie, timmy tiptoes!" and timmy replied, "is that you, goody tiptoes? why, certainly!" he came up and kissed goody through the hole; but he was so fat that he could not get out. chippy hackee was not too fat, but he did not want to come; he stayed down below and chuckled. [illustration] and so it went on for a fortnight; till a big wind blew off the top of the tree, and opened up the hole and let in the rain. then timmy tiptoes came out, and went home with an umbrella. [illustration] but chippy hackee continued to camp out for another week, although it was uncomfortable. [illustration] at last a large bear came walking through the wood. perhaps he also was looking for nuts; he seemed to be sniffing around. [illustration] chippy hackee went home in a hurry! [illustration] and when chippy hackee got home, he found he had caught a cold in his head; and he was more uncomfortable still. [illustration] and now timmy and goody tiptoes keep their nut-store fastened up with a little padlock. [illustration] and whenever that little bird sees the chipmunks, he sings--"who's-been-digging-up _my_-nuts? who's been digging-up _my_-nuts?" but nobody ever answers! the end note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 23522-h.htm or 23522-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/3/5/2/23522/23522-h/23522-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/3/5/2/23522/23522-h.zip) whiffet squirrel written and pictured by julia greene new york cupples & leon company * * * * * * the make-believe series whiffet squirrel the mouse's tail the yaller dog miss patty peep * * * * * * copyright, 1917, by cupples & leon company whiffet squirrel whiffet, skiffet and skud were three little red squirrels who lived with their father and mother in a tiny brown house in the old chestnut tree. first, i must tell you how the squirrel family came to live in this dear little house. you see it happened this way. father and mother squirrel started out very early one morning in the spring, to hunt a new home as they did not feel safe any longer living under the old pine stump, with the children getting large enough to run about. they both scampered up the old chestnut tree at the back of the farm house to see if they could find a nice deep hollow that would make a safe home for their little ones. when mother squirrel had gone about half way up the tree trunk, and as she climbed around a big limb, she almost bumped her head against what seemed to be a brownish wall. she peeped around the corner of the brownish wall and what do you suppose she saw? she held her breath in rapture for there before her bright little eyes sat the cutest little brown house resting right on the big limb. it was far more wonderful than any home that she had ever dreamed of. it had a sloping red roof and two little round doors. a good sized porch jutted out in front and each little door was several inches above the porch. mother squirrel very cautiously placed her two front feet on the porch and listened intently but all was very quiet. of course the folks who owned the house might be still asleep or they might be away. she crept quietly to the first little round door and peeped in. she saw a cute little room entirely empty. "the family must be away" she thought. boldly she peeped in through the second little door and saw another cute little room just like the first and also empty. then she walked in and explored both rooms and found a sort of cubby hole closet at the back of each. "what a fine place for storing nuts," said mother squirrel to herself, "but it would be much handier with a door between the two rooms." then she walked out on the porch and looked around. the little house was shut in almost completely by the thick green leaves except for a patch of blue sky that showed above the roof. "i wonder who this little house belongs to" thought mother squirrel to herself with an envious sigh. just then she looked up at the patch of blue sky and her bright eyes caught sight of a small sign on the peak of the roof which she had not noticed before. on the sign were printed the words "for rent" in bright red letters. when mother squirrel saw the sign "for rent" she nearly fell backwards off the porch in her joy and excitement. she began to chatter and scream in a loud shrill voice which brought her husband scampering to the spot at top speed. father squirrel was quite as excited and delighted over the house as was his wife. "it was surely meant for us" he said; "we'll move in at once. you'd better stay here, my dear, in case anyone should come along while i go back to the old stump for the children and our things. i had better get the moving done before many people are out." off he scampered and mother squirrel began at once to plan her housekeeping arrangements and started to gnaw a door between the two rooms with her sharp little teeth. as she was working busily at her task a shadow fell across the door and she heard a strange chirping voice say: "my love, i am sure this is just the place we've been looking for." her heart began to beat violently with alarm. peeping through the door she saw two large fat newly-wed robins standing on the porch in an affectionate attitude gazing admiringly up at the house. "the nerve of some people" thought mother squirrel, shaking with indignation. "they seem to think it's a bird house. it's that 'for rent' sign. the idea of their talking about our house like that! but i'll fix _them_." mother squirrel poked her head out of the little round door very suddenly and glaring with a very fierce expression, she exclaimed in a loud voice: "the cat's coming"! the newly-wed robins both turned very pale and flew--i think they're flying yet. mother squirrel chuckled to herself but decided to take no more risks so she climbed up the roof and took down the "for rent" sign. soon father squirrel and the children whiffet, skiffet and skud, each carrying a bag came scampering up the tree trunk. mother squirrel made them nearly die laughing when she told them how she had frightened the newly-wed robins. then father squirrel turned the "for rent" sign over and painted on the other side the words "no trespassing" and placed it on the corner of the porch. this is how the squirrel family found their new home but i will tell you something that they do not even suspect. the little brown house is a bird house built by tom the farmer's son for his little sister polly. the thickening leaves had hidden it from view and little polly had forgotten all about it. whiffet, skiffet and skud led a jolly life in the old chestnut tree. they played from the topmost branch to the lowest limb but mother squirrel would not let them go down the tree trunk to the ground for fear of cats. whiffet squirrel the tiniest of the three could think of more mischief than her two big brothers skiffet and skud put together. she was not afraid of anything and was always bossing her brothers and leading them into trouble. one morning early she ran out on the large limb on which the little brown house rested and found that it almost reached to one of the windows of the farmhouse. peeping in the window she saw a pretty little girl asleep in a small white bed. she leaped lightly to the window-sill and looked around her. in one corner of the room she saw many toys and dolls of every description, but the thing that attracted her the most was a dear little doll's trunk. it was standing at the foot of the doll's bed. "just the right size for a squirrel" she thought to herself. just then polly turned over in her sleep and whiffet scampered up the limb and back home as fast as she could run. of course she told skiffet and skud all about what she had seen and she began to plan right away how they could get the little trunk. yes i will have to confess that they sometimes took things which did not belong to them but as they were only squirrels no one had ever told them any better. needless to say whiffet kept her plan a secret as she knew that mother squirrel would never consent. the following morning, just after daylight, as soon as father and mother squirrel had started out to hunt their food for the day, the three little squirrels, whiffet leading the way, crept softly down the limb to the window-sill. the little trunk was standing in the same place and polly was sleeping soundly. a chair stood beneath the window and they leaped to the chair seat then to the floor and crept softly toward the trunk. whiffet as usual bossed her brothers and made them each take a handle of the trunk and carry it across the floor to the chair. skiffet then climbed to the chair seat and reached down and pulled valiantly at his end of the trunk while skud pushed from below. it was pretty heavy but they got it safely to the chair seat. they had to be very careful about making a noise as the window was near polly's bed. next skiffet climbed to the window sill and pulled again while skud boosted from below. it was almost up when skiffet's foot slipped and he fell over backwards losing his hold of the trunk; down it fell to the floor with a loud bump. the little squirrels trembled with fear thinking that the noise would awaken polly but she only turned on her other side, and in a few minutes they started to lift the trunk again. this time they were more careful. they succeeded in getting it safely to the window sill, but to hoist it to the tree branch was too risky a feat for them to try, so whiffet decided to open the trunk and see what was inside. she lifted up the lid very softly and found that it contained enough pretty clothes for a whole doll family. in one of the trays was a doll's tiny white hand mirror, comb, brush and powder puff. whiffet was so taken up with these things she nearly forgot everything else, but skiffet reminded her that they had better carry the doll's clothes home at once as it was getting late and polly might wake up any minute. they had to make several trips but at last the trunk was emptied; they shut down the lid and left it standing on the window sill. there was much excitement over the new clothes and father and mother squirrel were as delighted as the children. i wish you could have seen the squirrel family all dressed up in their finery. skiffet fell in love with a cunning red sweater, and skud took possession of a tiny pair of blue overalls. as for whiffet she became very vain. she looked into the mirror every day and powdered her nose regularly. she was very proud of a pale blue evening dress which she found in the bottom of the little trunk, and with slippers to match, her bliss was complete. two or three days later little polly went to her doll's trunk to get a dress that she wanted and was very much surprised to find the trunk entirely empty. she hunted everywhere but not a single one of the things could she find. polly felt very badly at the loss of her doll's clothes but especially missed the doll's toilet articles as they were the only ones she had. the mystery was not solved until one day late in the month of october, when the leaves began to fall. tom was looking up in the chestnut tree when he caught a glimpse of the bird house. "i wonder if any birds did use it" thought tom. he climbed up and peeped in the little round doors. the two little cubby holes at the back were full of chestnuts and in a corner of each room lay a pile of doll's clothes. "oh polly," he shouted, "come here quick; i've found out who stole your doll's clothes. it's the squirrels." polly came running; with tom's help she climbed the tree and peeped into the house. (of course the squirrel family were all out walking when this happened). "did you ever" she cried. "the mischievous little rascals. what do you suppose they wanted them for?" she reached her little hand through the "bedroom" door and picked up a pile of the doll's clothes. underneath she found the little mirror, brush, comb, and powder puff where whiffet had carefully hidden them. polly was delighted to find her treasures. "i will take these home," she said, "but i will leave the doll's clothes, for no doll would care to wear them now." "we'd better climb down" said tom, "for the squirrels can't be far away and we don't want to scare them off." "i wonder what became of the 'for rent' sign," said polly. just then a big red squirrel came scolding and chattering down the tree trunk towards them. (it was father squirrel). tom and polly climbed down quickly. that night when whiffet went to look for her mirror and powder puff she exclaimed angrily, stamping her little blue slippered foot, "the nerve of some people." so now whiffet has to go without powdering her nose, and she can't tell when her hat is on straight for she has no mirror. skiffet and skud have left off combing their top "fur" as they have no comb or brush, but i'm sure that polly's doll is very glad indeed to get her own tiny things again. the subspecies of the mexican red-bellied squirrel, sciurus aureogaster by keith r. kelson university of kansas publications museum of natural history volume 5, no. 17, pp. 243-250 april 10, 1952 university of kansas lawrence 1952 university of kansas publications, museum of natural history editors: e. raymond hall, chairman, a. byron leonard, edward h. taylor, robert w. wilson volume 5, no. 17, pp. 243-250 april 10, 1952 university of kansas lawrence, kansas printed by ferd voiland, jr., state printer topeka, kansas 1952 24-2174 the subspecies of the mexican red-bellied squirrel, _sciurus aureogaster_ by keith r. kelson in his excellent taxonomic treatment of the tree squirrels of mexico and central america, nelson (proc. washington acad. sci., 1:15-110, 2 pls., may 9, 1899) recognized three subspecies of red-bellied squirrels, _sciurus aureogaster aureogaster_ f. cuvier, _sciurus aureogaster hypopyrrhus_ wagler, and _sciurus aureogaster frumentor_ nelson. in his lists of specimens examined, nelson (_op. cit._:42 and 44) assigned certain specimens from "mountains near santo domingo" and guichicovi in chiapas, and catemaco in veracruz, to _s. a. aureogaster_, and other specimens from the same localities to _s. a. hypopyrrhus_. i originally attempted to study (identify to subspecies) the series of animals from only three places, but it became evident that a more extensive study was indicated. the locality whence the holotype of _sciurus aureogaster aureogaster_ was obtained is unknown. because certain specimens from altamira, tamaulipas, closely resemble cuvier's figure of the type, nelson (_op. cit._:41) subsequently designated altamira as the type locality. miniatitlan, veracruz, was designated by nelson as the type locality of _s. a. hypopyrrhus_ because wagler's description of the type of that subspecies fitted so well certain of nelson's specimens from that place. _sciurus a. hypopyrrhus_ was said by nelson (_op. cit._:43 and 44) to differ from _s. a. aureogaster_ in darker color, thinner pelage, much stiffer and more shining dorsal hairs, slenderer tail with black predominating, larger and proportionately narrower skull with larger auditory bullae, each bulla being "slightly constricted just in front of middle." _sciurus aureogaster_ varies greatly in intensity of color and in color-pattern. fully 30 per cent of the specimens examined are in some degree melanistic and approximately 20 per cent of them are completely so. others are more or less brown; the brown dulls the usually rufous parts. in many specimens this brown is well distributed even in the otherwise grizzled areas; in some specimens it is evenly distributed and in others it is in patches. indeed, scarcely any two "normally" colored specimens are alike. typically, the intense rufous color characteristic of the underparts in both _s. a. aureogaster_ and _s. a. hypopyrrhus_ is also present on the costal region and shoulders. even this distribution of color is highly variable; some specimens (for example no. 23948 ku, from 3 km. e san andres tuxtla, veracruz) show no rufous dorsally and others (for example no. 19307 ku, from 20 km. w piedras negras, veracruz) have the rufous extending over the legs, sides, and almost all of the dorsum from the shoulders to the rump except (in some) for an interrupted median strip of grizzled gray. it is true that specimens from miniatitlan are darker than those from altamira, but this seems not to be significant taxonomically, because examination of series from other localities provides no evidence of geographic variation in color except, possibly, in the frequency of melanism. a series of 13 specimens (univ. kansas) from 7 and 8 km. wnw potrero, veracruz, for example, is quite as dark as topotypes of _s. a. hypopyrrhus_ from miniatitlan, although the localities of capture are approximately in the center of the geographic range of _s. a. aureogaster_. in short, there seems to be no way to distinguish _s. a. hypopyrrhus_ from _s. a. aureogaster_ on the basis of color. an unusual amount of variation exists, but it seems to occur at random. fixing type localities of the two subspecies at the places of origin of certain specimens which in color fit the original descriptions is meaningless because selected specimens or series from almost any place in the geographic range of the species would qualify as approximate color-duplicates of the types. my findings agree with those of nelson in that skulls from miniatitlan average longer and narrower than those from altamira, but this seems not to be significant taxonomically because the series from altamira is, to judge from the material i have seen, somewhat shorter and broader cranially than is "average" for the alleged subspecies _s. a. aureogaster_. for example, series from metlaltoyuca in puebla, 3 km. e axtla in san luis potosí, 8 km. nw potrero and 20 km. nw piedras negras in veracruz, although obtained from localities well within the geographic range of _s. a. aureogaster_ (as outlined by nelson), all more closely resemble the "topotypes" of _s. a. hypopyrrhus_ in cranial measurements than they do "topotypes" of _s. a. aureogaster_. conversely, specimens from that part of the range of _s. a. hypopyrrhus_ most remote from the range of _s. a. aureogaster_ (montecristo, la venta, and teapa, all in tabasco) more closely approximate the altamiran series in cranial size and proportions than they do the miniatitlan material. therefore, my data contradict the statement of nelson (_loc. cit._) that the skulls of _s. a. hypopyrrhus_ are larger but proportionately narrower than those of _s. a. aureogaster_. the constriction of the auditory bullae alluded to by nelson as being present in _s. a. hypopyrrhus_ is also present in _s. a. aureogaster_, occurring in both subspecies in varying degrees without correlation with geographic distribution. actually, the only concrete evidence of geographic variation that i can detect in these animals is a slight increase southwardly in the frequency and degree of melanism, a kind of variation that is unworthy of taxonomic recognition in this species. it seems best, then, to regard the name _sciurus aureogaster hypopyrrhus_ wagler as a synonym of _sciurus aureogaster aureogaster_ f. cuvier. nelson (_op. cit._:45) stated that _s. a. frumentor_ "differs strikingly from typical _aureogaster_ in having well-marked nuchal and rump patches of yellowish brown or rufous brown; the underparts gray or gray washed with rufous; tail heavier and more bushy; pelage softer.... skull indistinguishable from that of typical _aureogaster_." i have examined 22 specimens from jico, 7 from las vigas (the type locality), and one from 3 km. e las vigas, all in veracruz. these include the type and paratypes of _s. a. frumentor_. part (probably 7 specimens) of the series from jico was referred by nelson (_op. cit._:46) to _s. a. frumentor_ and he thought, or knew, these specimens to have been taken _above_ jico. the remaining specimens labelled as from jico were referred to _s. a. aureogaster_. i am unable to find fault with the characterization of _s. a. frumentor_ insofar as color or skull are concerned. i cannot verify to my own satisfaction the presence of "heavier" and bushier tail and softer pelage. the characters considered to be diagnostic of _s. a. frumentor_ are distributed in an interesting geographic pattern the genetic import of which is not wholly clear. one specimen (no. 23945 ku) of the two available from 3 km. sw san marcos, veracruz, a locality on the coast approximately 50 miles north of las vigas, is indistinguishable from topotypes of _s. a. frumentor_ except for slightly lighter-colored grizzled parts. the second specimen (no. 23946 ku) from the same locality, although a subadult in worn pelage, shows the color and striking dorsal pattern of _s. a. frumentor_ and the ventral color of _s. a. aureogaster_. the dorsal pattern of _s. a. frumentor_ is found also in the three specimens from san carlos and plan del río, veracruz (nos. 11082, 11083 and 8278), chicago nat. hist. mus., respectively. (the two specimens from san carlos were referred to _s. a. frumentor_ by elliot, field columb. mus., zool. ser., vol. 8, publ. no. 115:128, february 9, 1907.) nevertheless, although the essential morphological characters of _s. a. frumentor_ occur sporadically in other populations, the animals from the higher elevations above jico and las vigas are notably homogeneous, differ collectively from surrounding populations, and occupy a logical geographic range. therefore _s. a. frumentor_ is retained as a tenable subspecies, and the animals from the vicinity of san marcos, and from san carlos and plan del río are referred to _s. a. aureogaster_. incidentally, nelson (_op. cit._:45) remarks that he saw no melanistic specimens of _s. a. frumentor_. this is not strange because melanistic specimens could not be identified anyway. [illustration: fig. 1. geographic distribution of _sciurus aureogaster_. 1. _sciurus aureogaster aureogaster._ 2. _sciurus aureogaster frumentor._] the names, absolute synonyms, and geographic ranges of the two subspecies of _sciurus aureogaster_ here recognized are as follows: sciurus aureogaster aureogaster f. cuvier 1829. _sciurus aureogaster_ f. cuvier, hist. nat. mammiferes, vi, livr. lix, pl. with text. 1830. _sciurus rafiventer_ lichenstein, abhandl. k. akad. wiss., berlin, p. 116 (1827). 1831. _sciurus leucogaster_ f. cuvier, suppl. d'hist. nat. buffon, pp. 300, 301. 1831. _sciurus hypopyrrhus_ wagler, oken's isis, pp. 510, 511. 1841. _sciurus mustelinus_ audubon and bachman, proc. acad. nat. sci. philadelphia, pp. 100, 101. 1841. _sciurus ferruginiventris_ audubon and bachman, proc. acad. nat. sci. philadelphia, p. 101. 1845. _sciurus ferrugineiventris_ schinz, synopsis mamm., ii, p. 14. 1855. _sciurus hypoxanthus_ (lichenstein ms) geoffroy, voyage de la venus, zool. (text), pp. 158, 159 (on labels of squirrels from berlin museum, _fide_ nelson, proc. washington acad. sci., 1:38, may 9, 1899). 1855. _sciurus chrysogaster_ giebel, saugethiere, p. 650. 1867. _macroxus aureogaster_ gray, ann. and mag. nat. hist., ser. 3, 20:423. 1867. _sciurus hypopyrrhous_ gray, ann. and mag. nat. hist, ser. 3, 20:424. 1867. _macroxus morio_ gray, ann. and mag. nat. hist., ser. 3, 20:424. 1867. _macroxus maurus_ gray, ann. and mag. nat. hist., ser. 3, 20:425. 1887. _sciurus rufiventris?_ rovirosa, la naturaleza, 7:360 (1885-1886). 1897. _sciurus leucops_ allen, bull. amer. mus. nat. hist., 9:198. 1899. _sciurus aureogaster hypopyrrhus_ nelson, proc. washington acad. sci., 1:42, may 9. _range._--eastern slope of mexico from southern tamaulipas southward to tabasco and chiapas. marginal localities arranged clockwise beginning with the northernmost station of record are: _tamaulipas_: victoria; altamira; down the coast to _veracruz_: coatzocoalcos; inland to _tabasco_: montecristo. _chiapas_: tumbala. _oaxaca_: mountains near santo domingo. _veracruz_: otatitlan; orizaba; jico; jalapa. _puebla_: metlaltoyuca. _hidalgo_: sierra encarnacion. _querétaro_: pinal de amoles. _san luis potosí_: valles. _tamaulipas_: forlón. specimen no. 51383 chicago mus. nat. hist., labelled as from san luis potosí, in the state of the same name, does not represent, i suspect, a natural occurrence of the animal. possibly the specimen was purchased there in the market, but was actually captured elsewhere. sciurus aureogaster frumentor nelson 1898. _sciurus aureogaster frumentor_ nelson, proc. biol. soc. washington, 12:154, june 3. _range._--higher elevations of the cofre de perote. marginal localities, both in veracruz, are: above las vigas; jico. this report is based on the examination of 256 specimens representing the entire known geographic range of the species. i am indebted to h. e. anthony, remington kellogg, c. c. sanborn, and stanley p. young for the privilege of examining specimens in their charge. the study here reported upon was aided by a contract between the office of naval research, department of the navy, and the university of kansas (nr 161-791). the specimens in the university of kansas museum of natural history were obtained by field work supported by the kansas university endowment association. _transmitted december 6, 1951._ 24-2174 transcriber's note the spelling, grammar and punctuation in this ebook are variable and unusual. these oddities have been preserved to match the original 1807 document. a few minor corrections have been made where typographical errors were suspected. details of these changes can be found in a transcriber's note at the end of this text. [illustration: _frontispiece._ _after having seated himself._ _preface iv._] the _adventures_ of a squirrel, _supposed to be_ related by himself. london: printed by and for darton and harvey gracechurch-street. 1807. _price sixpence._ preface. to miss anne s*****. _my dear anne,_ _when i was upon a visit at your good mamma's, i promised to make you a present. now a present for a girl of your age (if i only considered your age) is easy enough to find; but when i think on your good sense, i cannot reconcile myself to buy for you what i otherwise should. not to keep you in suspense, i have at last found out a present, which i hope will be agreeable to you. attend to the following adventure: i was walking, about a week ago, in the fields adjoining my house at croydon. the evening was so delightful, i wandered insensibly much farther than i at first intended to go. the prospect was so charming, and the hay smelt so agreeably, that i never thought of returning, till i found myself rather tired, so sat down by one of the haycocks to rest myself. after having sufficiently rested, i made the best of my way towards home; when, (guess my surprise!) putting my hand in my pocket, i felt something soft, which seemed as if it moved, and pulling it out, i found it to be as pretty a squirrel as you would wish to see. he ran round the table several times, and giving a good spring, seated himself on the dumb waiter. i immediately said to one of my servants: "i wonder how this squirrel got in my pocket," when my surprise was greatly increased by hearing it say, "if you will use me kindly, i will relate my history, and then you will learn what made me get into your pocket." my dear anne immediately came in my mind, for i thought nothing would be more agreeable to her than, "the adventures of a squirrel, related by himself." "come and sit nearer to me," said i, "that i may hear better all you are going to relate." after having seated himself once more, he began as follows._ _adventures_ of a squirrel, &c. _chapter i._ i was born in caen wood, near hampstead. being taken out of the nest, (in which were my mother and my brother,) very young, i shall begin by telling you, i was carried to the house of him that stole me, which was at hackney. here i was tied to a long pole, till he could procure a cage, which was not till the end of three weeks; when (what he termed) a very nice one came home, with a chain to fasten round my neck, with a padlock, when i came out of the cage. the chain he fastened on me directly, and it remained on, till my house was properly aired. when he thought i might with safety enter my house, he took off the chain, and carried me, exulting in his prize, to his sister; for he had kept me quite secure, till he could present me to her politely. she thanked him for his kind present, and then proposed making a trial of my abilities in the exercising way. you, perhaps, may wonder what this exercise was. my cage was made to go round upon wires, so that whenever i moved it went round, and caused a tinkling with some bells that were fixed for that purpose. at this exercise i remained nearly half an hour, and whenever i attempted to stand still, they pricked me with a pin. luckily the dinner bell rang, or they might have kept me at it half an hour more. i will now give you some account of my master and his family. his name was thomas howard, upon the whole, i believe, a very good-natured boy. his sister's name was sophia; and he had a father and mother. while my master and the family were at dinner, i made the best use of my time, and devoured every thing that i found in my cage. having finished my repast, i was alarmed at hearing the voice of thomas, (whom i wished at york,) bawling to his sister, "shall i bring him down;" and still more alarmed by hearing her squeaking voice (which i wished at dover) pronounce, "yes." i sat in my cage trembling, every minute expecting to be taken down and exercised; but was relieved by hearing tom fall almost from the top of the stairs to the bottom. in a minute the whole house was in an uproar. mr. and mrs. howard came running out: she applied the hartshorn to his nose and temples; the servants were running some one way, some another. sophia, too, was not silent. at last, when poor thomas was lifted up, and his wounds examined, there was nothing found but a great bump on the back part of his head; which, when he found out, he gave a loud laugh, and ran up stairs as fast as he did before. now i was more alarmed than ever, imagining that, as he had fell down in coming to fetch me, he might look upon me as the cause of his fall, and might therefore use me with greater violence. when he came up, he took me in my cage into the parlour. here i had an opportunity of seeing the company: at the top sat mrs. howard; on her right hand miss sophia howard; next to her sat tom wilkins, one of tom howard's schoolfellows; at the bottom sat mr. howard, next to him miss eliza wilkins, and next to her tom howard. i was now made to exercise again, for the amusement of the company; who, in return, very generously gave me cherries, and any other nice thing i chose to eat. at last they ventured to let me out, and tom howard forgot to put my chain on. the love of liberty being too strong in me, i jumped off the table without farther ceremoney. all the company rose up, (which, by the bye, had they not done, they might have caught me much sooner than they did,) and ran after me. the room not being quite wide enough to admit so many as tried to pass by the table at once, eliza wilkins tumbled and tripped up tom howard, who was behind her, and could not stop himself. sophia was very near down, but saved herself at the expence of young wilkins, whose waistcoat she caught hold of, by which he fell on young howard and eliza. while they were in this confusion, i jumped upon a pier-glass which hung in the room, where i sat all the time. when they had all scrambled up they began to look for me again, but in a more cautious manner than they had done before. at last wilkins spied me, and winked at young howard, who, mounting the table which stood under the glass, made me once more his prisoner. i was then put into my cage and exercised, but presently taken out again, and my chain fastened on, to hinder my escape if i attempted it a second time. mr. howard told tom that he was sure, by having me out so soon after my fright, i should certainly get loose; however, tom began to play with me, till a lucky accident put an end to his joy, and gave me my liberty. a nice plate of apples was placed between young howard and wilkins. now there happened to be one among them much finer than the rest; on this apple they had both fixed their eyes, and both tried which could finish eating what they had begun, that they might take the fine one, which had so charmed them only by looking at it. but miss wilkins, who had likewise seen it, and most likely longed for it as much as they did, asked her brother to hand her the plate. he seized, (or tried to seize, for howard was as quick as he,) the favourite apple, and a skirmish ensued; in which glorious skirmish i was knocked off the table. the maid coming in at the very moment, i ran down stairs and out at the street door, where the milkman was standing; which was, i suppose, the reason the maid came up stairs. i continued running as fast as i could, (for my chain sadly hindered me,) till i came to some fields, where i climbed a tree and stayed in it all night. _chapter ii._ when night came i found myself very hungry, so ventured to come down. my chain rattling at my heels, hindered me from running; but, however i got, on a good way, when i felt myself stopped, and found i was entangled in a gooseberry bush, in a very handsome garden. fortunately, the owner used to walk in it every morning before breakfast; i saw her pass me once or twice, (for i waited very patiently till morning,) but one time, as she was walking by, i made an effort to get loose, which made her turn, and perceiving me, she called her servant to extricate me. she then carried me into the parlour, and put me into a cage; not such a one as i had inhabited before, it was a very nice one, without any bells. in the parlour was a young lady about fourteen years old; between whom and the lady i heard the following dialogue. [illustration: _i made an effort to get loose._] _niece._ dear, aunt! what have you got another squirrel? what a pretty one it is! where did you get it? _aunt._ i found it in the garden, entangled in a bush. if i had not been walking in the garden, very likely he might have died. i should have been very sorry to have found him dead. _niece._ how fortunate this is: but i cannot help pitying poor tom--what a pretty fellow he was, and how sad a death it was to be devoured by the cat. i think he was the prettiest squirrel i ever saw. _aunt._ well, now really, i think this much prettier. poor fellow! how he trembles. _niece._ what a pretty chain. i dare say some young lady has lost him, by his having such a nice chain. _aunt._ well, then all we have to do, is to feed him well, and, if we find the owner, return him. _niece._ i hope we may never find out who it belongs to. _aunt._ you should not say so, my dear. now suppose, nancy, you had a squirrel and it ran away from you, how should you like never to see it again? and should not you think it wrong, if any body had found it, and knew who it belonged to, and would not return it? to be sure you would. _niece._ true, madam, but i did not think of that. but aunt, very likely he is hungry: shall i get him something to eat? _aunt._ do, my love.--nancy then ran, but presently returned with a nice mess of bread and milk, which i eat very heartily. she then put some clean hay, and a handful of nuts into my cage. a knock at the door called off the attention of nancy, and presently entered two young ladies and a young gentleman. one of the young ladies was miss fanny hudson; the other was miss kitty bell; and the young gentleman, master henry hudson, brother to fanny. as soon as they entered the room, they paid the usual compliments to mrs. greville, (which was the name of the good lady who found me,) but had their eye upon me all the time. the following discourse i can pretty well remember, as it began concerning me; and we usually listen with greater attention when the conversation is concerning ourselves. _fanny._ what a pretty squirrel you have got, miss greville: what is become of the other? _nancy._ oh dear, fanny! if i have not told you, you have a dreadful piece of news to hear. oh dear! how my heart did jump up and down for two hours after it. the cat had no dinner on thursday. i was playing with my squirrel, when the maid entered the room, and did not see the cat till my poor tom was in her mouth; and what was almost as bad, i flung my work-bag at her in a rage, it caught in the lock of the door, and tore this large hole in it. i was so vexed. _kitty._ enough to make you vexed, indeed. but you seem to have got a squirrel just as pretty as tom was. _nancy._ and we got it in the oddest manner. my aunt was walking in the garden, and found it, with its chain on, entangled in the bushes. _henry._ exactly the way i found my dog. he was in the garden with a great stick tied to his tail, all over mud and dirt; but i cleaned him, and now i would not part with him for a guinea. _kitty._ suppose, nancy, we let him out: i think he seems very tame. _nancy._ i really do not think he is very tame; we have not had him a day yet. _fanny._ well! but if he was to be let out, tame or not tame, what do you think he would do? _henry._ why jump off, and run away, to be sure. are you such a stupid creature, not to know that? here the conversation was interrupted by a squeak from the further corner of the room. the case was this: kitty, like an obstinate girl, had come to my cage, and, while nancy was looking another way, opened my door; upon which i walked out very composedly, and should have staid on the table, had she not screamed in such a manner as quite startled me. i jumped off, and ran under her chair. the whole company started up, and ran toward kitty, who began to cry, conscious of its being her fault; but presently nancy desired her not to cry, as there was no harm done; for i had run into the dear girl's hand, the moment she stooped to try to catch me. the young folks now departed. when i was put into my cage again, (after having received two kisses from nancy, for being so tame,) she brought me some food, and let me take a little rest after my fright. in short, i lived a fortnight in the happiest manner i could have wished. but, alas! one day, as nancy was playing with me, (without my chain,) the murderer of my predecessor entered. i was so shocked, that in two jumps i was out of the window, which two jumps i shall regret as long as i live; for i never was happier than at the good mrs. grevilles. i ran, as fast as i possibly could, close by the wall, till i came to some fields, where i climbed up a tree, and stayed in it till night; when a company of thieves coming to divide their spoils, laid a cloth and went to supper, which, when they had finished, they went to sleep on their backs, all in a row. i then ventured to come down, and see what i could find to eat; which was nothing but a piece of bread, which i carried into the tree, and eat very heartily. _chapter iii._ when i had finished it, i amused myself with chucking nuts, (of which there was plenty in the tree, though i did not notice them before,) into the men's mouths, as they lay asleep. the nuts rattling against their teeth awakened them: but i continued these pranks too long; for day beginning to appear, they had an opportunity of seeing who it was that thus tormented them. they vowed revenge, which i did not mind, not being aware of traps; but, however, the next morning, i found myself caught so fast, i could not get loose. one of the men came and took me, and after giving me two or three good blows, carried me to his little boy. the boy luckily loved money better than squirrels, so went and sold me at a shop where they buy and sell all sorts of birds and animals. here i led a quiet but stupid life, shut up in a cage, till somebody chose to buy me. however, in about a week's time after i had been there, a lady and her daughter went by the shop, and seeing me, the little girl begged her mamma would ask the price of me, which she did; and the man surprised me greatly, by asking four shillings for me, as he only gave the boy sixpence, who sold me to him. the lady said that was rather too much, and that she would give him three shillings. upon hearing this, as the man made no answer, the little girl said, "well then, mamma, if you will give three shillings, i will give the other; so you will send it home to my mamma's house, (giving him her direction,) and there is your money." you may be sure she left me no less happy than she seemed herself; for the thoughts of getting once more into such hands as mrs. grevilles, made me forget all former troubles. in about an hour i was sent home, where, as soon as my former master was out of the house, i had the pleasure of hearing the lady lay down the following conditions. 1st. that if any thing whatever should make her forget to give me, twice a day, my victuals, i was to be sent away. 2nd. she was never to let me out, except mrs. dixon (her mamma) was in the room, and gave her permission. 3rd. she was never to trust me with any body, till i had been in the house three weeks; at which time the second condition would be void. to these conditions sally cheerfully subscribed, and ran directly to get me some food. i will give you some little account of her, which, perhaps, may banish that wonder you otherwise might have expressed at some few things you are going to hear. she was in general very willing to learn, and sometimes to do as she was bid; but still she was very subject to be giddy, (not to give it a harsher name,) which often brought her into disgrace. she had a brother about ten years old, who was so fond of mischief, he often got a whipping. he went to school at southampton. my young mistress was no sooner well settled with me, than she wrote him a letter, to acquaint him of it. i think i may as well give it you, word for word, as i became acquainted with it as it lay by my cage. "my dear george, "i have news to tell you, both good and bad; and i do not know which to tell you first. but the bad news i think will do better first, as, if that overcomes you, i may recover you by telling you the good news. your pretty rabbit is dead: i went to give him his food yesterday morning, and found him dead. you don't know how sorry i was, but it cannot be helped now. now for the good news: mamma has bought me the prettiest squirrel, his name is scug; you will be quite delighted with him. mamma desires me to tell you, she hopes to see you next wednesday. having nothing more to say, i must now conclude this, from "your affectionate sister, "sarah dixon." i lived very happily this whole week, when master george came home, who, i suppose, thinking his sister had killed his rabbit, he thought he would kill her squirrel, as will presently be made known. he presented her with a chain of paper, which he said he had made at school on purpose for her squirrel. she put it on me directly, and presently mrs. dixon going out of the room, gave him an opportunity of executing his wicked design. he ran to the fire and lighted a piece of paper, which he held near my chain, with a view (as he said) to find out a little hole, where the padlock should go in. at last, while his sister was not looking, he set fire to it, and alas! being filled with gunpowder, (which his sister never had the least idea of,) it blew up with a violent explosion, and singed me sadly. sally burst into tears, and catching up the inkhorn, which stood on the table, discharged its contents in his face. the combined reports of the gunpowder, sally screaming, and george blubbering, soon brought mrs. dixon, who, when she came into the room, stared with astonishment, as well she might, at the confusion every thing was in. i all this time was in a corner of the room, where the sudden explosion had made me jump, not daring to move, terrified with the thoughts of a second shock; sally continued crying; and george was doing, nobody could tell what, for his face was so black, you could not tell whether he was laughing or crying. the first thing mrs. dixon did, was to take me up and put me in my cage; she then called a servant, and told him to take me to miss cummins, with sally's love, and beg her to accept me. sally then fell on her knees and begged i might not be sent away, saying it was all george's fault, which george confessed it was, and that he only did it for a piece of fun! "fun," cried mrs. dixon with astonishment, "and did you really think it fun! to burn and frighten a poor little animal. i wonder at you, indeed, george." she then left them, hoping george would mind what she said. i was now more caressed by little sally than ever, who always took care to give me plenty of food, and when she had any cake or any other nice thing, she always let me partake of it. so that i lived very happily all the rest of the time i was at her house, and most probably should have lived as long again as i did, had it not been for her brother. he was to go to school, in about three days time, so was determined to have one more good piece of fun (as he called it) before he went. he procured a squirt, and filled it full of ink; he then bored a hole in the wainscot of the room where he was, quite through into the room where i was. all things being prepared, he waited till his sister came to let me out, which, as soon as she had done, he let off the whole in my face; at least attempted to do it, for i believe sally and i were pretty equal sharers. a violent scream, more from surprise than hurt, soon brought mrs. dixon, who, upon coming in and seeing sally and myself all over ink, and nobody else in the room, could not conceive what had made us so; till, supposing it was one of george's tricks, she ordered him to be called. george came in trembling, but his mamma would not suffer him to speak, and as his fare clearly showed his guilt, she ordered his things to be packed up, and him to be sent to school the next day. george then cried sadly, but his mamma said she had had so many proofs of his disposition, that she would trust him no longer. she then went out of the room, which george perceiving, snatched me out of my cage, and most probably would have killed me, had i not, by a very great effort, bit his thumb in such a manner, that he let me go, and roared enough to frighten any body. his sister and he then went to fighting, and i jumped out of the window; for the fright i was in made me not know what i did, or i should not have left such a kind mistress, especially as my tormentor was going away; but it was now too late to return. _chapter iv._ [illustration: _she distinguished me._] after running a great way, i heard a violent noise, which alarmed me very much. i could not think what it was, but approaching nearer and nearer, it proved to be a company of gipsies, making merry as they were travelling. i took great care to avoid them, as i knew, if i had once got into their hands, i should not have got away very easily; so i climbed a tree and sat very quiet. i came down as soon as they were gone, and ran till i came to the city of london, which was not above half a mile from where i lived; for mrs. dixon's house was at islington, at least very near it. here i had no very great chance of hiding myself, so resolved to run up one of the houses, and get in at the first window i found open, and trust to the temper of some little boy or girl, rather than starve. the house i chanced to ascend belonged to alderman bumble. i happened to enter the window of miss henrietta bumble's chamber; so i crept into her cap, which was lying in a chair, and lay till she wanted to put it on. i chanced to lay in such a manner, that she distinguished me as she lay in bed; and bouncing out, she took me up and ran down stairs undressed. the alderman and his lady were waiting breakfast for her. as soon as she entered, the alderman started up and said, "bless me, henny, what can you want here in such a figure;" "o papa," said she, "here is the prettiest squirrel (but i should have told you i had found means to wash off the ink i had received in my last abode,) and where do you think i found him--lying in my cap, as snug as it was possible." "well, my love," said the alderman, "run up and dress yourself, and then come and tell us about your squirrel." henny then ran up stairs, tied me to the bed-post, and began to dress. when she had done, she untied me, and carried me down stairs. "now," said the alderman, "you look something more like a human creature: let us hear your story." "well then," said henrietta, "this is the case: i was just going to get up, when i saw this pretty squirrel in my cap; and how it came there, i am sure i cannot tell. he never offered to stir, but lay very quiet till i took him out. do let me have a cage for him." "well, my dear," replied her mamma, "you shall have a cage for him, and a very nice one too." "look'ye," said the alderman, "she shall not have a cage: it would be throwing money away." "i say she shall have a cage," said the lady, "as sure as my name is sukey bumble, while i have a crown in my pocket." "well," said the alderman, "i see _i_ must yield: so i am to get you money to spend in cages. henny, my love, (continued he,) let me look at it." henny, however, kept it in her hand, in which she was seconded by her mother, who said, "that's right, my girl, do not part with it." henrietta was standing so near the alderman, he thought, with a little effort he might snatch it from her; but being very bad with the gout, he overbalanced himself, and down he came. mrs. bumble with great difficulty raised him, which, as soon as she had done, he hobbled up to henrietta, took me from her by force, and barbarously cut off near half an inch of my tail with a pair scissars. henrietta burst into tears, mrs. bumble began scolding him, when a servant came in, whom she desired to go to crooked-lane, and procure one of the very best cages that could be got. the alderman stormed; his lady raved; and henrietta cried. mrs. bumble said she would be minded, and giving the man a guinea, told him, if it came to more, to pay it. "what," continued she, "would you have an alderman's lady send for a sixpenny wicker cage, to keep a squirrel in. no, by no means in the world; and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to have maimed a poor defenceless creature, only because you fell out of the chair." as there were a great many questions and answers, i think it would be best to give them to you in the manner they were delivered by the parties. _alderman._ why now, was not the squirrel the cause of my fall. did i not, in attempting to get the squirrel, fall off my chair? and therefore, was not the squirrel the cause of my fall. _lady._ suppose it was: but what business had you to try to get the squirrel, and then to revenge yourself in such a shameful manner. i wish to my heart he had bit you. _alderman._ i am much obliged to you, however, for the wish, my dear; but of the two, i would rather he had let it alone. _henrietta._ i am sure it would have served you right. _alderman._ come here henrietta, (pinching her ears) so you think it would have served me right, do you? i like every body to be served right, and i think i am now serving you right. _henrietta._ oh! _alderman._ pray, miss, mind what you say another time, or you will get into disgrace, depend upon it. the servant coming in at this instant, put a stop to what mrs. bumble was going to say. she had opened her mouth in the greatest rage, but the servant giving her a shilling, as change out of the guinea, and giving henrietta the cage, she was forced to shut it. i had now the sad fortune to be put into a cage, exactly resembling that in which i lived at mrs. howard's. i had no sooner entered my new habitation, than i was set to work, and kept at it almost an hour; at which time the alderman pulled henrietta away by force. a coach stopping at the door, hindered any dispute that might have arisen from the treatment of the alderman; for out jumped four young ladies, and two young gentlemen, who had been invited to spend the evening. their names were, john and emily shepherd, james and caroline churchill, eliza careful, and fanny fairchild. the usual compliments being over, the following conversation ensued. _chapter v._ _emily._ bless me, henrietta, where did you get that pretty squirrel. _henrietta._ ay, where now do you think i got that pretty squirrel? why, emily, if i was to tell you to guess a hundred times, you would never find it out. i found it in my cap yesterday morning, as i was going to dress. _caroline._ where? _emily._ no, surely! _james_ and _john_. in your cap? _henrietta._ yes, i did, i assure you. i was going to put it on, but i saw what was in it, and mamma was so kind as to buy me that nice cage. you cannot think how prettily he goes round. you shall see him presently. _fanny._ oh dear, henrietta, i have a sad tale to tell you. you know the pretty canary bird the baker gave me; well, what do you think william did? he cut off half its tail, and part of its wings. _henrietta._ why, that was nothing to what my papa did. he is not in the room, so i can safely tell you; he cut off half my squirrel's tail with his scissars, as coolly as if he had been peeling an orange. _all the party._ how cruel! _henrietta._ and all because he fell down, in endeavouring to get it. _emily._ and so he revenged himself on the squirrel, that was not right. _fanny._ right! indeed i think not; he deserved to have had his great toe cut off, and then he might have been better able to judge, by the pain he felt, how the squirrel liked the cutting off his tail. i think i never heard any thing so barbarous. _james._ i say, jack, let us have some fun with this lop-tail squirrel: while they are talking, they will not see us. _john._ ay, so we will. they then proceeded to action. the young ladies were so busy, they did not see these two mischievous boys, till they had set me on eliza's head; who giving a violent scream, alarmed the whole company. emily, in getting up in a hurry, overturned fanny, who was not sitting quite steadily in her chair; she gave her a blow, which emily returned, and confusion was the word for near an hour; when peace was restored by the entrance of the alderman and his lady, who, after having in vain tried to learn the cause of the bustle, proposed a game at cards. james and caroline desired to set out, so, while the rest of the company were at cards, they amused themselves by tormenting me. at last tired by constant exercise, and irritated by james, who pricked me with his toothpick whenever i attempted to rest, i waited for a good opportunity, and as he laid his finger close to my cage, (while he was talking to some of the card party) i gave him a bite he has remembered ever since, i dare say. it so exasperated him, that he pricked me now more than ever; and caroline joined him in persecuting me. i had once or twice attempted to bite her, which she was aware of; but james dropping his toothpick into my cage, made me watch well, as i knew one of them would try to take it out. at last caroline ventured, and just as she put her finger in, somebody spoke to her, and she forgot to take it out, till the pain she felt from one of my bites made her withdraw it rather hastily. the scream she gave so startled the alderman, that he overset the card table upon his lady; the girls jumped up, the boys laughed, i went round and caused a violent ringing: so that they, who before were so desirous that i should do it, were now more desirous i should stand still. the alderman often attempted to speak, but my ringing entirely drowned his voice; till at length enraged, he came to my cage, and having pulled me out, and flung me into a corner of the room, where i staid very quietly, he began to pull off the bells, which hung over the cage; which, when he had done, he tossed them, one by one, to the company, telling them, if they were fond of the noise they might make it themselves, and then the only difference would be, "it would be made by monkeys instead of squirrels." the alderman then went out of the room, henrietta put me into my cage, and peace was once more restored. and now all their proceedings were stopped, by the arrival of mr. and mrs. churchill, who were come to take their young folks home, and offer a place in the coach to the rest of the party. away they went, to my great joy. henrietta now bewailed the loss of her bells in such violent terms, that the alderman told her, if she did not cease, he would send the squirrel to miss lee. upon which mrs. bumble started up in a rage, "it shall not be done:" said she, "it was a scandalous thing of you to break the bells, but i shall take care to send for new ones." "not while the servants are mine," said the alderman. his lady made no reply, but rang the bell, a servant appeared. "john," said she, "take this where you bought it, and get new bells put on." "john," said the alderman, "if you do, you may as well take your wages in your hand. but you will receive them when you come back, so it is the same thing." john then went, and contrived to get it done by somebody else, so that he might oblige both master and mistress. the alderman having found out it had been done, got up one morning very early, packed me up in my cage, and sent me by the coach into lincolnshire, to a miss huntley, one of his relations. here i lived a short, but happy life; i was constantly fed, very seldom exercised contrary to my inclinations, and, in short, lived so happily, i thought it exceeded, if possible, the kind treatment i met with at the good mrs. greville's. _chapter vi._ but soon was my happiness put an end to. very near my mistress, lived a young gentleman, whose name was eaton, who, though nearly fourteen years of age, and a very clever youth, delighted in mischief; and though he did not mean it, he sometimes did things very unworthy a gentleman. [illustration: _he admired me greatly._] this young fellow no sooner found miss huntley kept a squirrel, than he resolved to be possessed of me. i afterwards found his reason for so doing, was only "because he thought, if he took it to school with him, it might cause some fine sport." the next day was fixed for his departure; and, as he was very intimate with miss huntley, he said he would came and drink tea with her once more before he went to school. he came, admired me greatly, and, after tea, said he would play with me. the window happened to be up, so, while they were talking, and not looking at him, he slily put me into his pocket, buttoned it, and giving a great shriek, said i had jumped out of the window. poor isabella huntley was very much vexed. he said there was no hopes of getting it, as it travelled at such a rate, he supposed it would be ten or twelve miles off by the next day. he told truth, for, as he was going the next day, he would be much farther than twelve miles; and so should i also, as i went in his pocket. he soon after took his leave, leaving isabella very sorrowful, little thinking where her squirrel was. he went to school very early the next day, and i travelled all the way in his pocket. luckily i found a few cherries and a cake, or most probably i should not have lived to my journey's end. we arrived at the rev. mr. clarkson's academy, i cannot tell at what time; let it suffice, that when he got there, he took me out, and tied a piece of string round my neck, while he showed me to his schoolfellows! he then asked, if any body had a cage to sell. they none of them had one, except one boy, who came and said he would sell his, but that it would put him to a great inconvenience, as he had a bird in it at present, and could not sell it under three shillings; for he knew eaton would buy it, let it cost what it would. he therefore tried to make the most of it. eaton paid him the money, and put me in it. here i had to perform my tricks before all the boys, four or five times a day, and was liable to all the insults they chose to bestow upon me. indeed, a boy did once hit me a terrible blow with an apple. in about a week, the money eaton had brought with him to school, was all gone; he then had recourse to selling me. he offered me in my cage for two shillings. nobody would give it. at last a boy came to him and offered tenpence for me. eaton, in a rage, hit him a box on the ear, and sent the boy away crying. at last, finding nobody would give more, he went to the boy he had struck, whose name was bentley, asked his pardon, and said he should have me for tenpence. bentley now refused, saying, that as he had been struck, he would give no more than sixpence. at this time, the man who used to come with cakes and apples for the boys to buy, came into the play-ground. eaton took up a tart, and holding his hand out to bentley, said: "come, you may as well give me tenpence;" but bentley held out sixpence, and said he would give no more. eaton then tried to knock it out of his hand, but instead of his succeeding, the tart fell and was broke to pieces. eaton looked red. "come," said bentley, "though you refused so often, perhaps you may be inclined to take sixpence now." eaton was not long determining, but snatched the sixpence and gave me into bentley's hands. he carried me directly into his chamber, and having given me some food, put me on his window seat. i lived very comfortably with him for a few days; till one day a boy named smart, who, i afterwards learnt, was hired by eaton, opened the window and put me out. i ran along the tiles, trembling, a great way, before i saw any window open where i might shelter myself. at last a boy spied me, and getting up to me with a ladder, i surrendered immediately. the boy, thinking he could sell me at the school better than at any other place, went there; and bentley seeing me, before any of the boys said what they would give, offered the boy eighteenpence for me, which he accepted, and left me once more in good hands. he now took more care of me than ever, intending to take me home with him at the holidays; but an accident which happened soon after, made his good intention totally useless. one of his schoolfellows, named hawkins, who slept in his room, had, it seems, long wished for me. he had tried various stratagems, none of which had turned out to his advantage: at last he thought of the following. he put his bottle and wash-hand bason in the way of my cage, so that when bentley came to take me out, he threw them down, and broke them into a thousand pieces. hawkins hearing the noise came up, and the following dialogue i distinctly heard, as i sat on bentley's arm. _hawkins._ so, bentley, you have broke my bason. how could you be so careless. _bentley._ it was rather careless, i must own; but who would have thought of a bottle and bason being so near a squirrel-cage, as to be broken when i went to take out my squirrel. _hawkins._ nobody could have thought it; but you should look before you do things in such a hurry. i suppose you intend to pay me for it. _bentley._ that i would very willingly do, if i had money. if you will trust me, i will give you my week's pay till the whole debt is paid. _hawkins._ and so i am to stay a month or more, while you pay me at your leisure. it was all owing to your want of attention, and i am to suffer for it. _bentley._ as to being owing to my want of attention, i don't see it in the least. it certainly was not a proper place for a bottle and bason. i think it must have been put there on purpose. _hawkins._ pray, sir, am i to be accountable to you for the place where i choose to put my bottle and bason. suppose i put it there on purpose, have not i a right? _bentley._ a most undoubted one. but then, if it is broken, you have no right to scold about it, as it was through your own means it became so. _hawkins._ well, i don't care, i will be paid for it. come, bentley, give me your squirrel, and i'll think no more about it. _bentley._ a likely matter. _hawkins._ well, then, i am resolved you shall pay me. _bentley._ very well, i will pay you in the manner i mentioned. _hawkins._ don't you believe it: if you can't pay me now, i will take the squirrel. he then snatched me from him, and carried me down stairs, where he met a boy named lively, to whom he showed me; and both walking up to a bench that was placed under the study window, where mr. clarkson generally was, hawkins began the conversation which will be related in the next chapter. _chapter vii._ _hawkins._ i told you i should get it. poor bentley! _lively._ why how could you get it? _hawkins._ i put my bottle and bason close to the cage, so that when he went to take out his squirrel, down they came, and broke to pieces. i went up and demanded payment, which he not being able to give me, i took his squirrel, which he held on his hand all the time we talked. _lively._ upon my word, i think you did wrong. _hawkins._ what! are you one of those fools who are afraid of doing wrong. however, you see i have got something by doing wrong.---"and you shall get something more by doing wrong," cried a voice. hawkins turned round, and saw his master, who had been standing at the window ever since they began to talk. "give me that squirrel," continued mr. clarkson. hawkins held me out to him with great reluctance. mr. clarkson then carried me into the school-room, and calling for bentley, gave me to him, telling him, loud enough for hawkins to hear him, that hawkins would get much more by doing wrong, than he would by doing right, for he should get a very hearty flogging that afternoon. he likewise commended lively for not agreeing with hawkins. bentley then carried me to his room again, packed me up, (in my cage,) and sent me by the stage to his sister, who lived at stamford in lincolnshire, and was very intimate with miss huntley. my reception was a very good one. louisa bentley was very fond of me, and always took care i should have plenty of food. she had invited a party of young ladies to see her that very afternoon: their names were, miss wilson, miss clark, miss smith, miss newman, and miss huntley. when these young ladies were all seated, their conversation was as follows. _miss bentley._ o, miss huntley, i had such a present made me to-day. my good brother always sends me some present from school, between the holidays; but this last, is the best he ever sent me. only look, what a pretty squirrel! what makes you sigh, miss huntley? _miss huntley._ your squirrel puts me in mind of one i had lately. young eaton came to drink tea with us before he went to school, when he let the squirrel out, and it jumped out of the window. _miss clark._ were you not very angry? _miss newman._ i am sure i should have been very angry indeed; and, i think, not without a cause. _miss smith._ he is always doing mischief, i think. it was but on friday, when he came to see us, that he killed my canary bird, by putting a shot in the place where the seeds were, which stuck in its throat, and it died in a few minutes. _miss clark._ and what did he say, when he saw he had killed it? _miss smith._ he only laughed, and said he did not know it could not eat shot. _miss wilson._ perhaps he took it for an ostrich, and thought it could eat lead and iron. i do not wonder at it; for, in my opinion, he is foolish enough to think any thing. [illustration: _i have been looking at your squirrel._] _miss huntley._ i have been looking at your squirrel, miss bentley, for some time; will you be kind enough to tell me where you got it? o, i remember, you said your brother sent it you, so it cannot be the same; but every mark on it is exactly like mine. _miss bentley._ suppose i write to him, and ask him where he got it. i assure you, if it is yours, you shall have it. i dare say my brother got it fairly. _miss huntley._ my dear louisa, i would not take it from you on any account: i only wish to know that it has not died a violent death. _miss newman._ poor creature! i hope it has not. i would much rather see any favourite bird or squirrel die, than that they should escape. _miss clark._ my brother never sends me such presents. yes, once, indeed, to do him justice, he sent me a present you would not guess, if you were to try from morning till night. he goes to school about two miles off, and the week before last, he sent me, in the baker's cart, an ugly monkey: such a great creature. he began clambering over the chairs and tables; so i sent it back, with a letter, in which i told him, monkeys were not presents for young ladies, and that he could better take care of his brother than i could. don't you think i was pretty severe upon him, miss newman? _miss newman._ yes, indeed, i think you was. but, my dear girl, you forget that you was just as severe upon yourself; for as you are brother and sister, the monkey cannot be brother to one of you, without being brother to the other. _miss clark._ miss newman, i assure you i don't understand such usage: i did not come here to be called names. i think my question was not uncivil. _miss newman._ and i think i answered you as civilly as i could, miss smith, do you think i could have given a more civil answer? _miss smith._ no, indeed, i do not. _miss clark._ well, ladies, i see you are all against me, so i had better take my leave. here mrs. bentley entering, put a stop to miss clark's resolution, by proposing a game at forfeits, for she readily consented to be of the party. i took the opportunity to fall asleep, and when i awoke, the following letter was lying by my cage. my dear brother, i am so much obliged to you for your present, that i cannot express my thanks: i believe i shall best be able to do that when i see you. i had some young ladies to see me yesterday, among them was miss huntley, who has begged me to write to satisfy her curiosity. she would, therefore, take it as a favour, if you would tell me where you got it; as it is very like one she had, which made its escape. o, my dear brother, i wish you was at home. i have so many things to say to you, i don't know how to say them in letter; for, let people say what they will, it is easier to talk than to write a letter; so must conclude this, from your affectionate sister, louisa bentley. _chapter viii._ i shall pass over a few days, which i spent very comfortably, and give you her brother's answer; for she took me out of my cage so often, (seeing i was tame,) that i had frequent opportunities of seeing and reading every thing i chose. it was as follows. "dear sister, "i am very glad my last present met with your approbation. i endeavoured to find who brought it into the school, as soon as i had read your letter. it appears to be young eaton: i believe you know him. i bought it of him, and after several escapes from losing it, i resolved to send it you, which succeeded just as i could have wished. present my duty to my papa and mamma, and i remain, dear sister, "your's, affectionately, "benjamin bentley." as soon as louisa had received this letter, she invited miss huntley; and i could clearly hear the following dialogue. _miss bentley._ well! i wrote to my brother, to enquire about the squirrel, and here is his answer: read it. _miss huntley._ (having read it.) my dear louisa i am shocked. i did not think william eaton could have been guilty of an action so mean. you know i told you, when i was here last, he opened the cage and said the squirrel had jumped out of the window. now he went to school the next day, therefore he must have taken it. i always thought he loved a little mischief, but had not an idea he could do such a thing as this. _miss bentley._ and very likely all this was for the gain of a couple of shillings, or some such trifle. but, however, the squirrel is your's, miss huntley, so i beg you will accept of it. _miss huntley._ i think, miss bentley, i had better not take it, as it will cause questions which may discover young eaton's guilt, and i should not wish to take away his character. i think the best way will be to write him a letter; and tell him how sorry i am at finding how i lost my squirrel, but that, as i know who has it, i shall think no more of it. _miss bentley._ my dear miss huntley, you will act nobly; and much kinder, i am sure, than he deserves. suppose you write it now, here is every thing necessary. miss huntley then wrote the letter, and when she had finished, she read it aloud. "sir, "when you favoured us with your company, the night before you went to school, had any body told me you had the least thought of doing what i have lately found you did, i should have thought it an impossibility. believe me, the loss of the squirrel does not grieve me half so much as the manner in which i have lately heard i lost it. miss bentley, sister to one of your schoolfellows, has it, and would freely give it me; and as that is all i wished to know, (as i was afraid it might meet a violent death,) i shall very willingly let it remain with her; for if i should take it, it might breed questions which would not be quite agreeable. and now let me conclude this letter with assuring you, that, as i trust you have sense enough to be sorry for what you have done, i shall think no more of it, than if it never had happened. "isabella huntley." this letter was then sent, and miss huntley look her leave. i am now coming to that part of my life which i look back upon with horror. nothing particular happened till the time arrived when young gentlemen leave school, to go and be merry by the fireside for six weeks. william eaton had not lost any of his malice; and therefore, i suppose, thought me as proper an object to vent it on as he could find. he thought, by killing me, (as i heard him say,) to end all farther trouble, and put a stop to all their enquiries, by bringing me home dead. for he had formed such a design, i shudder when i think of it. i suppose he had bribed the maid before, for early one morning he was at the door, which the maid seeing, she took me out of my cage, and gave me to him, after she had cut off a bit of my tail, to make it appear the cat had eat me. he took me home, and called his dog into the garden, where he let me go, and sent the dog after me. the dog presently caught me, and lucky it was, he did not kill me the first gripe; for his master (seeing he caught me so soon, as he wanted to have had some fun, as he termed it) threw a stone at him, which hit him on the head, and laid him flat on the ground. i seized the opportunity, and ran up the garden wall, from whence i jumped, frightened almost out my wits. i continued running till i came to a very large orchard. i mounted a cherry tree, and eat one or two cherries, which a little recovered me. after i had been in the tree a little time, two men entered the orchard with sacks, which they filled with what fruit came first to hand, and were going away. the owner of the orchard happened to be riding by the place, and called to them to know their business. at that instant the men happened to lift up their eyes, and seeing me, answered, they came to catch me, and asked if they might not climb the tree for that purpose. _owner._ yes, after you have emptied your sacks. so empty them this minute. the men then turned every thing out of their sacks. _owner._ well, have you caught the squirrel? hey-day! were you going to catch the squirrel with two sacks full of fruit? now, gentlemen, you will both be kind enough to march out of this orchard: and if ever you are caught in here again you shall certainly go to gaol. the men then went away, which recovered me from my second fright; for i expected, every minute, they would climb and take me. however, i was agreeably disappointed. i then descended, and ran out of the orchard as fast as i could, till i found myself so hungry, i determined to trust myself once more to somebody that looked good-natured, if i could see any body i thought looked so. while i was thinking, a stage came by, so (at random) i gave a leap into the basket, where i found a few crumbs of bread. i remained very quiet till the stage suddenly broke down. i thought it high time to quit my seat, so jumped out, and crept into an old lady's pocket, who was lying amongst the rest on the road. fortunately, nobody was hurt, and the coachman sent somebody for a post chaise, which soon arrived. we all crowded in, till it was full. my mistress happened to get an inside place, and we went off laughing at the disaster. at last we came to london, where i did not dare stir from the pocket of the lady, so kept my place with great composure. my mistress, for so i shall call her, was then put into another stage, and after a journey of about four miles, she stopped at a very handsome house. my mistress being in a great hurry to get out and compose herself, opened the coach door herself, but not having sufficient power, her foot slipped and she fell out. i was so alarmed at this, that i scrambled out of her pocket, and made the best of my way towards the house door, where i certainly should have entered, had i not heard the different mews of half a dozen cats. those sounds were not very pleasing to me, so i ran off unperceived; for the confusion at the garden door was not yet at an end. i had not run far, before i met a man with a pair of very large boots in his hand. he unfortunately spied me, and taking me up, put me into one of them, and thrust me down into the foot. he had walked within a mile of the fields where you were when you first became possessed of me, when he set the boots down, and began fighting with a man he had been quarrelling with some part of the way, i jumped out of my place of confinement, and ran till i came to the place where you were sitting, and being very hungry, i ventured to creep into your pocket, and trust to your generosity. here the pretty fellow ceased. "and you shall find," said i, "i will endeavour to deserve that trust, by making you as happy as i possibly can." * * * * * now, my dear anne, i presume it will be unnecessary for me to inform you, that the foregoing history is only an imaginary one of my own invention; but such as we may suppose a squirrel might relate, if he were endowed with reason and speech. your good sense will suggest to you that the amiable characters herein depicted are meant as examples for imitation; and that the conduct of the vicious is to be disapproved of and avoided. i remain your affectionate friend, r. s. s. printed by darton and harvey, gracechurch-street. [illustration: _the end._ _i ventured to creep into your pocket._] transcriber's note illustrations within the main text of this ebook have been moved to their appropriate page numbers, as referenced in the original text. spelling and grammar variations (for example: your's, scissars, staid/stayed, bason, ceremoney, mrs. grevilles/mrs. greville's, had fell down, was broke to pieces, had eat me, came and drink tea) have been preserved to match the original 1807 text. the following typographical corrections have been made in this ebook: page 6: removed duplicate word 'he' (he took off the chain) page 22: removed duplicate word 'and' (and singed me sadly) page 23: added missing period (thing mrs. dixon did) page 26: changed 'happenned' to 'happened' (happened to enter) page 28: changed 'bummble' to 'bumble' (mrs. bumble) page 33: changed 'beeen' to 'been' (had been peeling) page 33: removed duplicate word 'the' (the young ladies) page 34: added missing period (by tormenting me.) page 37: added missing end quotes (new bells put on.") page 42: added missing word 'i' (who, i afterwards learnt,) page 51: removed duplicate word 'to' (is easier to talk) page 56: changed 'runing' to 'running' (i continued running) note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 18630-h.htm or 18630-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/8/6/3/18630/18630-h/18630-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/8/6/3/18630/18630-h.zip) sleepy-time tales the tale of frisky squirrel by arthur scott bailey author of the cuffy bear books sleepy-time tales etc. illustrated by eleanore fagan grosset & dunlap publishers--new york copyright, 1915, by a. s. bailey [illustration: "tails and ears"] contents i frisky squirrel finds much to do 9 ii frisky squirrel has a fall 13 iii the stone that walked 17 iv the picnic 22 v some lively dodging 27 vi mr. hawk returns 31 vii a brave little bird 35 viii uncle sammy coon 40 ix a bag of corn 44 x tails and ears 49 xi jimmy rabbit is too late 53 xii frisky visits the gristmill 57 xiii fun on the milldam 62 xiv mrs. squirrel has a visitor 67 xv helpful mr. crow 72 xvi caught in the attic 77 xvii farmer green's cat 82 xviii the threshing-machine 86 xix frisky's prison 91 xx johnnie green forgets something 95 xxi that disagreeable freddie weasel 101 xxii catching freddie weasel asleep 106 the tale of frisky squirrel i frisky squirrel finds much to do frisky squirrel was a lively little chap. and he was very bold, too. you see, he was so nimble that he felt he could always jump right out of danger--no matter whether it was a hawk chasing him, or a fox springing at him, or a boy throwing stones at him. he would chatter and scold at his enemies from some tree-top. and it was seldom that he was so frightened that he ran home and hid inside his mother's house. mrs. squirrel's house was in a hollow limb of a hickory tree. it was a very convenient place to live; for although the tree was old, it still bore nuts. and it is very pleasant to be able to step out of your house and find your dinner all ready for you--simply waiting to be picked. of course, frisky squirrel and his mother couldn't find their dinner on the tree the whole year 'round--because it was only in the fall that there were nuts on it. but luckily there were other things to eat--such as seeds, of which there were many kinds in the woods. and then there was farmer green's wheat--and his corn, too, which frisky liked most of all. the woods where mrs. squirrel and her son lived were full of the finest trees to climb that anybody could wish for. and frisky loved to go leaping from branch to branch, and from tree to tree. he was so fearless that he would scamper far out on the ends of the smallest limbs. but no matter how much they bent and swayed beneath his weight, he was never afraid; in fact, that was part of the fun. as she watched frisky whisking about among the trees, now swinging on this branch, now leaping far out to that one, mrs. squirrel sometimes wondered how he could keep dashing about so madly. though the old lady was pretty spry, herself, she was content to sit still _some_ of the time. but frisky squirrel was almost never still except when he was asleep. there was so much to do! frisky wished that the days were longer, for though he tried his hardest, he couldn't climb _all_ the trees in the forest. each night he had to give up his task, only to begin all over again the next morning. if there had been nothing to do but _climb_ the trees frisky would have been able to climb more of them. but there were other things that took time. there were the birds, for instance. frisky simply had to tease them. perhaps it was just because he was so full of fun--or mischief, as it is sometimes called. anyhow, he delighted in visiting their nests; and chasing them; and scolding at them. and it was not always the littlest birds, either, that frisky teased. there was that loud-mouthed fellow, jasper jay, the biggest blue jay in the whole neighborhood. frisky liked nothing better than bothering jasper jay--for jasper always lost his temper and flew straight at frisky. and then would follow the finest sport of all. but a time came at last when frisky teased jasper jay almost once too often, though that is another story. ii frisky squirrel has a fall one day frisky squirrel came upon jasper jay's nest when jasper and his wife were both away from home. and frisky simply couldn't resist tearing a few twigs out of it. he had not done much damage, however, before mrs. jay returned. when she saw what was happening she screamed loudly for her husband. and soon jasper came flying up as fast as he could come. he made a noise exactly like a red-tailed hawk; but he did not frighten frisky at all, for frisky knew all of jasper's tricks. jasper jay was always trying to scare people by calling like bigger birds--such as red-shouldered hawks, and red-tailed hawks, and sparrow hawks. when frisky heard him calling he just laughed and skipped up the trunk of the tree, with jasper and his wife chasing him. now, with jasper and mrs. jay both flying at him, frisky had to be sprier than ever. but he was not afraid. he never thought of danger at all. and he ran down the thick tree-trunk like a flash and bounded across the ground and tore up the tree where he and his mother lived. "i'll peck your eyes out!" jasper shouted, as he followed close behind frisky. now, no matter how bold one may be, it is not pleasant to hear a thing like that said. and it made frisky hurry a little faster. "i'll peck his tongue out!" screamed mrs. jay. and somehow it disturbed frisky the least bit to hear jasper's wife say that. he decided that he would go home at once. and he gave a great spring toward the hollow limb where he lived. then something happened that was a great surprise to frisky squirrel. he was right in the middle of his leap when jasper struck him with a wing. the blow did not hurt frisky. but it sent him tumbling. he missed the hollow limb, and down he went, head over heels, toward the ground. even while he was falling, frisky squirrel laughed. you see, he thought it was a good joke on himself. and being a merry little fellow, he was always ready to laugh when anybody played a joke on him. as for the fall, that did not trouble him at all. he knew that he could land on his feet. it was after he had lighted upon the ground that frisky was really frightened. for when he looked up, whom should he see but tommy fox, not three jumps away! and tommy fox was smiling in the most horrid fashion, as if to say--"ah! i've got you now, my fine fellow!" and then tommy fox leaped. but quick as tommy was, frisky squirrel was even quicker. while tommy was making one big leap, frisky was making three smaller leaps. and when tommy came down on the spot where frisky had been he found nothing but a heap of dry leaves beneath his paws; and in a moment more frisky squirrel's gray tail was disappearing through the doorway of his mother's house. it was very unlucky for tommy fox; but then, one might say that it was very lucky for frisky squirrel. iii the stone that walked one day frisky squirrel was playing in the woods when he came upon a chestnut bur which had lain upon the ground all winter. and in a twinkling frisky had picked the nut from inside it and popped it into his mouth. then he started home to show his mother what he had found. but on the way home frisky began to feel hungry. just carrying that nut inside his cheek was a little more than he could stand. and he decided that he would eat the nut at once, and _tell_ his mother about it, instead of _showing_ it to her. so frisky hopped up on the top of a broad, flat rock. and sitting down right in the center of it, he began to gnaw at the chestnut. he was so busy and so interested in what he was doing that before he knew it the rock began to move. it moved so slowly that it was not until it started to climb a little hummock, and nearly tipped frisky over on his back, that he noticed what was happening. at first frisky thought he must be dreaming. he nipped himself with his sharp teeth to make sure that he was awake. and when he saw that the rock was really walking right away with him he forgot all about eating the chestnut. he let it fall out of his paws and roll away; for he had never seen a rock move like that before. it was very exciting, though frisky had never traveled so slowly before. you see, whenever he went anywhere he always hurried as if he had the most important business to attend to. but it was quite different with that rock. it crawled along just as if it didn't care whether it ever got anywhere or not. for a long time frisky clung there. now and then he almost slipped off as the rock tilted. but it never tipped quite over; and frisky managed to stick on. and then, at last, he decided that he had better hop off onto the ground, for he noticed that the rock was moving straight toward the river. it went down the bank at a faster pace. and frisky leaped off just in time to escape a wetting, for the next moment the rock dropped splash! into the water. frisky squirrel waited on the shore and watched it, with eyes wide open with astonishment. he had expected to see it sink to the bottom of the river. but the rock swam away as easily as you please. that was the strangest part of it all--a rock which could not only walk, but could swim as well! frisky turned about and ran for home as fast as he could jump. this time he certainly did have important business. he had such a strange thing to tell his mother! he reached home quite out of breath. and as soon as he could, he told mrs. squirrel what he had seen. that good lady did not know what to think. she had always found her son to be truthful. but this was certainly a queer story. she lay awake a long time that night thinking about the matter. and early the next morning she took frisky and set out for swift river. frisky led her to the very spot where the stone had swum away. "there it is! there it is now!" he cried, as they paused upon the bank and he pointed down toward the water's edge. when mrs. squirrel saw what frisky was pointing at she no longer wondered. "it's a mud turtle!" she exclaimed. "you had a ride on a mud turtle and you never knew it." she smiled, because she was amused; and because she was happy, too. for she knew that frisky had told the truth. iv the picnic it was a fine spring day--so pleasant that the children from the little red schoolhouse over the hill came to the woods where frisky squirrel lived. they came for the first picnic of the season, and such a noise as they made had never been heard in those woods before. frisky squirrel was frightened at first. but at last he grew accustomed to the uproar, and he crept out on the limb where he lived--not too far away from the door--and looked down and watched the fun. he was enjoying the picnic quite as much as the merry-makers themselves--until a boy spied him. and then several boys began to throw acorns at him. frisky did not like that so well; and he hid in a crotch of the tree where he could not be seen from below, until the boys forgot all about him. when the picnickers went away, frisky lost no time. he slipped down the tree in a hurry. you see, he had seen the children eating their lunch and he hoped he would be able to find some tidbit which they had left behind them. sure enough! there was a feast waiting for him. he was not the only one who was there to enjoy it. for there were three ruffianly red squirrels and a half-dozen chipmunks who appeared on the spot as if by magic. this second picnic soon came to an end, for the dainties did not last long. but what frisky found, he enjoyed very much. most of all he liked a bit of something that was covered with a white coating, which looked a good deal like snow. but it did not taste like snow at all; it was as sweet as sweet could be! rusty red-squirrel found a piece of the same dainty, and he explained to frisky that it was called "cake." "i ate some once at farmer green's house," he said. "farmer green's wife makes it." and frisky decided on the spot that he would pay a visit to the farmhouse. it was too late to go that day. but the next morning frisky set out for farmer green's house. in the distance he could see white smoke curling from the red chimney. and though he did not know it, that meant that it was baking-day, and farmer green's wife was just as busy as she could be, making good things for her hungry family. when frisky squirrel reached the farmhouse he found the kitchen window wide open. and after making sure that there was no one inside the room, he stole in and jumped up on a shelf where there was a row of dishes with all sorts of tempting things on them. to frisky's joy, he found a whole cake exactly like the bit he had discovered in the woods. and he ate all he wanted; there seemed to be no reason why he shouldn't, there was so much of it. and then a door slammed somewhere. the noise startled frisky squirrel and he fell right off the shelf, backwards, and landed plump in the flour-barrel. he was nearly smothered. and he was frightened, too. but he managed to scramble out again. and you should have seen the white streak that went shooting across the kitchen floor, out the door, and away. it was frisky squirrel, of course, covered with flour. he never stopped running until he was half-way home. and then he climbed a tree and sat down to lick himself clean again. to his astonishment, he found that the white powder that covered him tasted very good. it reminded him of wheat. and that is not surprising, since the flour was made of wheat which farmer green had grown in his own fields, and which had been ground into flour by the miller who lived further up swift river. though the flour tasted good, frisky did not like it as well as the cake. he wished he had been covered with that sweet, snowlike frosting. [illustration: "the picnic"] v some lively dodging frisky squirrel was having his usual fun, leaping through the tree-tops. he went skipping and scrambling among the boughs as if a hundred jays were after him. but they were only make-believe enemies. and after a while frisky grew tired of playing all alone. he wished he could find jasper jay again. he would have liked to tease the rude fellow, until jasper chased him. as frisky paused for a moment to catch his breath he heard a long-drawn, squealing whistle, somewhat like the sound of escaping steam. "there's jasper jay right now!" he exclaimed. "and he's trying to make people think he's a red-tailed hawk. but he can't fool me that way. i'll just go and find him. and then maybe i won't tease him!" frisky started toward the place where he had heard that whistle. he called to jasper jay; but there was no answer. nor did he hear the whistle again. he hunted all around; but no jasper jay could he find. and he was just going to give up the search when there was a sudden rush through the air. frisky dodged just in time; and a big body, grayish-brown, with a rusty-red tail, went tearing past him. he had been mistaken. it wasn't jasper jay he had heard whistling, but this fierce red-tailed hawk. here was even more fun than frisky had hoped for! as soon as mr. hawk could stop his swift flight he turned and came back again. and there followed the liveliest sort of dodging for frisky squirrel. it was well for him that he had had plenty of practice all the spring, or i am afraid he would never have escaped. he was not afraid. and now and then he laughed at mr. hawk. and now and then he shouted "robber!" at him, and "thief!" and he asked him how many of farmer green's chickens he had stolen lately. but mr. hawk never once answered--except to whistle sometimes as he went sailing past. he paid strict attention to what he was doing. and he seemed to have no idea of stopping until he got frisky squirrel in his claws. after a while frisky began to tire of the sport. but not mr. hawk! he kept flying back and forth, back and forth, past frisky. and his cruel eyes glared terribly every time he came near. "you'd better go along home," frisky called to him. "you can never catch me, if you try till snow flies." mr. hawk lighted on a near-by tree and looked at frisky. frisky was a plump little squirrel and mr. hawk hated to give him up. but as he thought the matter over he seemed to decide that frisky was a little too spry for him. and with one more whistle he mounted up above the trees and sailed calmly away. frisky squirrel went home then; and he told his mother what sport he had had, and how mr. hawk had at last flown away in despair. "i hope he'll come back again to-morrow," said frisky. but mrs. squirrel shook her head. she wished that frisky was less daring. vi mr. hawk returns after he escaped from the fierce red-tailed hawk you would naturally think that frisky squirrel would have been glad to keep away from such a great, strong enemy. but the very next day found frisky searching everywhere for that cruel, hook-nosed mr. hawk. he wanted more of that fine sport that he had had the day before, dodging and twisting around the limbs of the trees, while mr. hawk swooped down and tried to seize him. there was another reason, too, why frisky wanted to find mr. hawk again--and that was because he knew that it annoyed mr. hawk very much not to be able to catch him. you see, frisky squirrel was a great tease. well, as i said, frisky hunted all through the woods for the red-tailed hawk. but he couldn't find him. there was a good reason why--and that was because mr. hawk was waiting for frisky in the top of a tree near mrs. squirrel's home. he was waiting and watching--was mr. hawk. when frisky had given up his search and was almost home he heard the smaller birds warning one another of the danger, telling of the savage old fellow who was half-hidden on a high branch of the tall elm. frisky first heard a flicker calling to a towhee; and the towhee told a robin; and the robin told a little song sparrow that he had better keep out of sight unless he wanted mr. hawk to catch him. you may be sure that the little song sparrow was very careful after that. he gave a few _chips_, just to do his share in warning the other forest-people to look out for the red-tailed hawk; and then he crept into a thicket and kept just as still as a mouse. when frisky heard the news--for he knew what the birds were telling one another--he hurried along joyfully. _he_ was not afraid of mr. hawk. mr. hawk was the very person he was looking for. "hello, you old ruffian!" frisky called, as soon as he spied mr. hawk. it certainly was a very impolite thing to say, even if it _was_ true. mr. hawk turned his cruel eyes upon frisky squirrel and then he dashed toward him as fast as he knew how. he dropped down like lightning from his high perch, and frisky had to dodge quickly to escape him; but that was part of the fun. frisky squirrel laughed as mr. hawk went sailing by him. and then something happened--something frisky was not expecting. he heard a rush through the air, and a nervous little wren screamed to him to look out. frisky didn't know what the trouble was; but he gave a great leap to one side. he was just in time. he had hardly left the limb to which he had been clinging when mr. hawk's wife went coursing past. you see, mr. hawk had made up his mind that he was going to catch frisky squirrel, even if he had to bring mrs. hawk along to help him. vii a brave little bird it was not long before frisky squirrel began to see that he had got himself into something very like a fix. it had been fairly easy to dodge mr. hawk alone. but things were quite different now. mr. hawk would come hurtling down upon him from one direction; and mrs. hawk would swoop down upon him from another. it was all very confusing, because frisky could not watch both of them at once. he called to his mother, because he began to be frightened. but mrs. squirrel was not at home. frisky did not know what to do. he tried to reach his home in the big hickory tree near-by; but mr. and mrs. hawk wouldn't let him go near it. and when he felt one of mr. hawk's sharp talons dig into his back frisky thought that his end had come. but he escaped that time, though mrs. hawk nearly caught him just two seconds later. i am afraid _the tale of frisky squirrel_ would have ended right here, if somebody had not come to frisky's help. fortunately, there was a small, olive-green bird who lived with his wife not far from frisky squirrel's home. mr. kinglet was his name. and though he was a tiny fellow he had a heart like a lion's. i suppose that in all the country around blue mountain there was no braver fellow than he. and his wife was brave too. although they both wore very dull-colored clothes, if you took a good look at mr. kinglet you could see that he always wore a bright red crown. he was very modest about his crown, and generally wore it so that only a little of it showed. but whenever he went out to fight, as the forest-people are often obliged to, that beautiful red crown might be seen as plain as could be. now, it happened that mrs. kinglet heard mr. and mrs. hawk talking to each other, as they tried to capture frisky squirrel, and she heard the other forest-people shouting, too. so she called to mr. kinglet that somebody seemed to be in trouble; and he came hurrying up at once. when the little frightened wren screamed, mr. kinglet made up his mind that it was time for him to do something. and he pushed his red crown up on the top of his head where it would show better and he flew straight toward mr. hawk. mr. kinglet flew up over mr. hawk's head, and then he darted down and lighted right in the middle of mr. hawk's broad back, and began pecking him as hard as he could with his sharp little bill. mr. hawk stopped trying to catch frisky. he had all he wanted to do to shake that bold little fellow off his back. and though mrs. hawk still swooped down at frisky squirrel, brave mr. kinglet's brave little wife began to fly at _her_ so fiercely that mrs. hawk couldn't keep frisky from reaching the tree where he lived. he was very glad to get home, you may be sure. and he dived in through the door and was out of sight in no time. but pretty soon he stuck his head out again to see what was happening. mr. and mrs. hawk had vanished. and all the forest-people were thanking mr. and mrs. kinglet for driving them away. frisky squirrel thanked them, too. and when he remembered how he had sometimes teased mrs. kinglet by visiting her nest he felt very much ashamed, and he promised himself that he would never trouble her again. viii uncle sammy coon one day frisky squirrel was looking for something to eat in the woods, when whom should he meet but uncle sammy coon, a good-for-nothing old fellow who lived over in the swamp. "well, young man!" said uncle sammy, "what are you doing here?" "i'm trying to find a few seeds to eat," frisky explained. "i know where there's some corn," said uncle sammy coon. "it's last year's corn, to be sure; but it's good, just the same." "where is it?" frisky asked him. "hm--" said uncle sammy. "if i told you would you get some of it for me? it would be easy for a spry young chap like you to take all you wanted of it. but i've a lame knee, you know, and i can't climb so well as i used to." "of course i'll get some corn for you," frisky promised. "where is it?" "i'll take you to it," said uncle sammy--"this very night." he was a suspicious old chap--which means that he was afraid that if he told frisky then, frisky would go off alone and take what corn he wanted without giving uncle sammy any. "to-night!" frisky exclaimed. "oh, i don't stay out late at night, you know, as you do." uncle sammy coon was known to keep very late hours. "well--right after sundown, then," the old rascal said. "we'll meet over by the brook. don't tell your mother. it will be a pleasant surprise for her, when you bring home a fine bagful of corn." "all right! i'll be there," frisky told him. and sure enough! just as the sun sank out of sight that evening, frisky appeared on the bank of the brook. and he hadn't told his mother what he was going to do, either. pretty soon uncle sammy coon came along. he had an old sack slung over his shoulder and a wide grin on his face. "come on, young man!" he said, "and we'll go over to farmer green's place." "farmer green's!" frisky cried. "i don't want to go there." he remembered the fright he had had when he fell into the flour-barrel in farmer green's kitchen. "you promised," uncle sammy reminded him. "and unless you want something you won't like nearly so well as corn, you had better march right along with me." he was so cross that frisky squirrel thought he had better mind him. but frisky wished he had not come. and he wished he had told his mother what he was going to do, too. but he trotted along with uncle sammy--only he was careful not to get too close to the tricky old gentleman, for there was no knowing when uncle sammy might suddenly decide that he would rather have a nice, tender, young gray squirrel to eat than all the last year's corn in the world. you see, the little forest-people have to think of many things--especially when they walk out alone with a person like uncle sammy coon. ix a bag of corn when frisky squirrel and uncle sammy coon arrived at farmer green's place, the moon was just rising. it wasn't dark, but uncle sammy said that they would have no trouble at all, because farmer green's family would be in the house, eating their evening meal. "there's the corn-house," he said, pointing to an old stone building. "there's a hole in the wall up there under the roof. all you have to do is to climb that tree, run out on that limb, crawl through the hole, and there you are--inside. then you can bring the corn up to the hole, drop it out onto the ground, and i'll stay outside and pick it up and put it in this sack and watch out for old dog spot." "you see," he went on, "i'll be doing most of the work, for i'll be doing three things, while all you'll have to do will be to drop the corn out of the hole in the wall.... but i don't mind doing more than my share." frisky squirrel couldn't quite understand how uncle sammy would be doing most of the work. but since the old gentleman said it was so, frisky supposed it was the truth. there was one thing, however, that puzzled him still more. "have you brought a bag for my share of the corn?" he asked. "oh, we'll divide this bagful," said uncle sammy. "when we get over the hill we'll sit down and divide it." "all right!" said frisky. and then he hurried up the tree. in no more than a jiffy he was inside the old stone building; and pretty soon the corn began to patter, patter, down upon the ground where uncle sammy waited. frisky had been working steadily for some time. and he began to wonder if the bag was not full. he thought he would just peep out of the hole in the wall and see. so he stuck his head out. to his surprise, uncle sammy had vanished. and as frisky looked all around he caught sight of uncle sammy coon with the bag of corn on his back, hurrying up the road. for an old gentleman with a lame knee he was going at a very fast pace. frisky squirrel wondered why he had run away. but he didn't wonder long, for a dog barked; and the bark came from right underneath the hole in the wall. then farmer green came running up the path which led to the corn-house. he had a gun in his hand, too. frisky didn't wait to see anything more. he whisked out of the hole, and climbed the roof, and jumped into another tree on the other side of the corn-house. and soon he too was running like mad along the road--only he was going in exactly the opposite direction to that in which uncle sammy had vanished. he never stopped running until he had reached the woods. and since he could not bring any corn home with him, he thought that there was really no sense in telling his mother anything about his adventure. the next day, as frisky was playing in a tree-top, he came across uncle sammy coon sunning himself. "where's my corn?" asked frisky squirrel. "corn!" uncle sammy exclaimed, as if he had forgotten all about such a thing. "oh! you mean that corn that we got last night. now, i'm sorry to say that the bag was so heavy i had to drop it, because old dog spot was after me, you know. and when i went back to get it, later, it wasn't there.... we'll have to try again, some other time," he added. frisky squirrel began to see that the old fellow had tricked him. uncle sammy's sides looked very plump, as if he had had an unusually good meal. and he smiled so pleasantly that frisky squirrel became very angry. "you'll get your own corn next time," he snapped. and as he skipped away he heard uncle sammy coon laugh heartily--just as though something had amused him. x tails and ears among all his friends, frisky squirrel liked to play with jimmy rabbit best. you see, jimmy never wanted to eat him. he was so fond of tender young sprouts, and of farmer green's vegetables, that he wouldn't have taken even the smallest bite out of frisky. he would have laughed at the very idea. there was something else, too, about jimmy rabbit, that frisky squirrel liked; he was always thinking of new things to do--new places to visit, new games, new tricks to play on other forest-people. to be sure, jimmy and frisky did not always agree--but that is not surprising, because their tastes were so different. for instance, there was nothing that frisky squirrel liked better than a hickory nut, while jimmy rabbit never would so much as touch one. but if anybody said "cabbage" to jimmy rabbit he would have to stop playing and hurry to farmer green's garden. you see how fond of cabbage jimmy was. there were other things, too, on which frisky and jimmy held different views. they were forever disputing about ears and tails. frisky squirrel, as you know, had a beautiful, long, bushy tail, and short little ears; while jimmy rabbit had ears half as long as he was, and almost no tail at all! "really, frisky, you ought to have that tail of yours cut off," jimmy said one day. "it's terribly out of fashion to wear a tail so long as yours. as a special favor, i'll be willing to cut it off for you, with a big pair of shears that my mother has." frisky squirrel was just a bit angry at this remark about his tail. "what about your ears?" he asked. "not one of the forest-people--except rabbits--wears his ears so long as you do. i must say that they look very queer. how'd you like to have me trim them for you?" "tell you what we'll do," jimmy rabbit said. "i'll cut off your tail and you'll cut off my ears. what do you say?" somehow or other, frisky did not quite like the idea of losing his tail. he was so used to having it that he was afraid he might miss it dreadfully. and he even thought that he would rather keep it--even if it _was_ out of fashion. but jimmy rabbit ran home to get his mother's shears. and when he came back with them frisky couldn't think of any good excuse for not letting jimmy cut off his tail for him. as jimmy came hopping up with the shears, frisky squirrel put out his paw. "what do you want?" asked jimmy. "the shears!" frisky said. "i'm going to trim your ears, you know." "oh--yes!" jimmy answered. "but i thought of this _first_, you remember. so i'll cut your tail off first. then you'll have your turn--see?" he kept a firm hold on the shears. and almost before frisky knew what was happening jimmy had stepped behind him and had placed frisky's tail between the big shears. "will it hurt?" frisky asked, as he looked behind him. "it'll all be over in a jiffy," said jimmy rabbit. xi jimmy rabbit is too late it was just as jimmy rabbit had said. you remember that as he stood behind frisky squirrel's back with his mother's big shears, all ready to cut off frisky's tail, he had told frisky that "it would all be over in a jiffy"? well, it _was_. but things didn't happen just as jimmy rabbit had expected. he had taken a good, firm grip on the shears, and he was just about to shut them upon frisky's tail with a snap, when somebody called frisky's name. frisky knew who it was right away. it was his mother! and like most of us, when our mothers catch us doing something we ought not to do, frisky was so surprised and so startled that he gave a great jump. that jump was all that saved frisky's tail. for just as mrs. squirrel called, jimmy rabbit shut the shears together as hard as he could. but jimmy was too late. when frisky jumped, his tail followed him, of course. it whisked out from between the shears; and they closed upon nothing at all. "now, that's too bad!" jimmy exclaimed. he had been so interested in what he was doing that he had never heard mrs. squirrel at all. "come back here and we'll try again." the words were scarcely out of jimmy rabbit's mouth when he received a terrific box on the ear. now, it's bad enough for anybody to have his ears boxed. but jimmy's ears were so big that i dare say it hurt him three times as much as it would have hurt anyone else. and it surprised him, too. for he hadn't heard mrs. squirrel as she stole up behind him. anyhow, he ran off howling, taking his mother's shears with him. "that awful rabbit boy!" mrs. squirrel said. "a moment more and he would have cut off your beautiful tail--your best feature, too!" "what's a feature, mother?" frisky asked. "why--your nose, and your eyes, and your ears--anything of that sort," mrs. squirrel said. "it makes me feel faint just to think what almost happened." "but jimmy rabbit says long tails are out of fashion," said frisky. "out of fashion indeed!" mrs. squirrel sniffed. "he's jealous--that's what's the trouble with him. he wishes he had a fine, long, bushy tail himself. goodness me! i'm all of a flutter--i'm so upset." and poor mrs. squirrel sat right down and fanned herself with her sun-bonnet. "now, don't you ever let anybody try to cut off your tail again," she said to frisky. "you have your father's tail. and everybody always said that he had the most beautiful tail that was ever seen in these woods." frisky didn't quite understand what his mother meant. if he had his father's tail, then where was his? and if it was his, then where was his father's? all the way home he kept asking himself questions like those. but whatever the answers might be, frisky was glad that he still bore that beautiful brush. he began to see that he would have looked very queer, with just a short stub like jimmy rabbit's. xii frisky visits the gristmill frisky squirrel was very fond of wheat-kernels. somehow or other he heard that there was a place on swift river called the gristmill, where there was almost all the wheat in the world--at least that is what frisky heard. so he started out, one day, to find the gristmill. he thought he could have a very pleasant time there. frisky had no trouble at all in finding the gristmill. it was just below the mill-dam. and everybody knew where that was. the gristmill was an old stone building with a red roof. and once inside it frisky saw great heaps of wheat-kernels everywhere. and there were sacks and sacks too--some of them stuffed with kernels, which frisky was so fond of, and some of them filled with a fine white powder, which frisky didn't like so well, because it got in his eyes, and up his nose, and made him sneeze. it was the same sort of powder into which he had fallen one time at farmer green's house. it was flour, of course--you must have guessed that. the gristmill was a quiet sort of building. there seemed to be nobody there at all. and frisky helped himself freely to wheat-kernels, for it was very early in the morning and he had not had his breakfast. he was just telling himself what a delightful place the gristmill was, and how glad he was that he had heard about it, when suddenly there was a terrible noise--a grinding, and whirring, and buzzing, and pounding. the very floor trembled and shook, and frisky expected that in another instant the roof would come crashing down on him. he leaped away from the bag of wheat-kernels on which he had been breakfasting and he bounded through the great doorway and ran along the rail-fence, far up the road, thinking that each moment would be his last. for frisky believed that the end of the world had come. and he never stopped running until he was safe inside his mother's house. mrs. squirrel was not at home. and it was so long before she came in and found frisky that he had begun to think he would never see her again. "whatever is the matter?" mrs. squirrel asked. frisky was making a dreadful noise, for he was crying as if he would never stop. "it's the end of the world!" frisky sobbed. "i didn't think you were coming back." bit by bit mrs. squirrel managed to learn where frisky had been and what had happened to him. and she smiled when she found out what had frightened him. since it was quite dark inside their home in the hollow limb of the big hickory tree, frisky could not see his mother smiling. but her voice sounded very cheerful when she said-"now stop crying, my son. there's nothing to cry about. the end of the world hasn't come. and _that's_ something you and i don't need to worry about, anyhow." "what you heard was only the mill-wheels turning. you must have reached the gristmill before the miller had come to begin his day's work. that was why everything was so still. i don't wonder you were frightened when all that noise began. but gristmills are always like that. they make a terrible noise when they grind the wheat." frisky squirrel stopped sobbing then. he was glad that his mother knew exactly what had happened. but he made up his mind that whenever he wanted any wheat-kernels to eat he would not go to the gristmill for them. luckily the gristmill had not _quite_ all the wheat in the world. xiii fun on the milldam there was something about the dam across swift river that frisky squirrel simply couldn't keep away from--after he had forgotten, somewhat, his fright at the gristmill. only a few days passed after frisky had run home from the mill in a panic, before he was back again. he liked to run across the top of the dam and look down at his reflection in the water on one side. here and there a narrow stream spilled over the top of the dam. frisky felt very brave as he leaped over those little rivulets. and he loved to watch them as they fell in thin, silvery cascades upon the rocks far below. it was great sport. one day when frisky reached the dam he heard a dog bark not far away. it was the miller's dog. he had seen frisky as he crossed the road. and he at once hurried toward him. frisky squirrel was annoyed. he had just been thinking what a good time he was going to have. but when that dog started to bark frisky knew that his fun was spoiled. he wasn't frightened. oh, no! but he was sure that the dog would not go away until _he_ did. "well, i'll just take one run across the dam," frisky said to himself. "i'll stay on the other side of the river until he grows tired of waiting. and then i'll come back." he hurried on to the bank of the river; and in a few moments he was skipping along the dam. the dog was still barking. and frisky looked around at him. to his great surprise, there was the dog following him, right along the top of the dam. but even then frisky was not frightened. he simply hurried a little faster. he had not dreamed that the miller's dog would chase him across swift river. but there he was. and he was running fast, too. then something happened that really frightened frisky squirrel. at first he could hardly believe it. but it was true. it really was another dog that was barking--another dog that was waiting on the other side of swift river. and almost as soon as frisky saw him, that other dog started right across the dam, to meet frisky! [illustration: fun on the mill dam] there was no time to lose. frisky had to make up his mind very quickly. he gave just one look at the deep mill pond. he could swim--if he had to. but he just hated to get wet. and he knew that the dogs were much faster swimmers than he was. so he looked away from the water with a shudder. and he peeped over the steep side of the dam and gazed at the rocks below, where the water splashed into countless drops. those rocks were a long way beneath him. but there was one thing about frisky squirrel--he never was the least bit dizzy, or afraid, when he looked down from high places. perhaps there were too many other things to be afraid of--such as coons and foxes--and dogs. the miller's dog was drawing nearer now, because frisky had stopped. and the dog from the other side of the river was only about six jumps away! frisky squirrel didn't wait another instant. he jumped right down the face of the dam. where he had stood a moment before the two dogs came together with a bump. probably they would have started to fight, if they had not been so interested in frisky squirrel. there they stood, with their necks stretched out over the edge of the dam, watching frisky as he went rolling and tumbling down to the bed of the river. and when they saw him pick himself up and go skipping from stone to stone until he reached the shore and scampered away, they looked very foolish indeed. in fact, they felt foolish, too. and without saying one word they turned about and each crept back to his own side of swift river. xiv mrs. squirrel has a visitor fatty coon was very hungry. and he stole along through the woods very quietly, hoping to find something to eat. to his great joy, it was not long before he discovered mrs. squirrel's home. he crept up to the nest silently; for he hoped to catch mrs. squirrel and frisky inside. but mrs. squirrel and her son were both away. fatty was disappointed. but he made up his mind to go into the house anyhow, to see what he could find there. so he pushed through the narrow doorway. it was a tight squeeze; but fatty managed to get inside. and there he found a fine lot of beechnuts, which mrs. squirrel had brought home and stored, in order to have something to eat during the winter. fatty coon just loved beechnuts. and he squatted down on the floor and began to eat. he ate and ate until he was half-buried in beechnut-shells. and he never stopped until he had finished the very last beechnut. he wished there had been more, though you would think he had had quite enough, for fatty's sides bulged out so that he was rounder than ever. he smiled as he thought of the surprise mrs. squirrel would have when she came home and found her winter food all gone. and then he stood up, shook the shells out of his coat, and started to climb through the doorway. fatty was still smiling as he stuck his head through the opening in the tree. but all at once his smile faded away. you remember that he had had hard work to squeeze through the narrow doorway when he entered the house? well, now his sides stuck out so far that he couldn't get through it at all. he tried and tried; but though he struggled hard, fatty found that he simply could not squeeze through. he had stuffed himself so full of beechnuts that he was too big to get out of the hole. and there he was--caught fast by his own greediness! yes! fatty coon was a prisoner. fatty had smiled because he thought mrs. squirrel would be surprised when she came home. and he had not been mistaken about that. when mrs. squirrel and her son frisky scampered up the tree about sundown that evening they had the surprise of their lives--though not just the sort of surprise fatty had expected. they looked in through their doorway and scolded. and they ordered fatty to get out of their house at once. he would have been glad enough to leave, you may be sure. but he couldn't go just then. and at last frisky squirrel and his mother had to go and spend the night in the house of a friend. when they came back to the old hickory tree the next morning fatty coon had gone. he had tried the whole night long to get through the doorway. and at last--just as the sun was rising--he managed to slip out. mrs. squirrel knew that fatty had had a hard time, because he had left a good deal of his fur behind him. it clung to the sides of the doorway. and mrs. squirrel spent half the day picking it off and throwing the beechnut-shells out of her house. she was a very neat housekeeper; and she was quite annoyed to find her house upset. as for frisky, he began to bring home another store of nuts that very day. after what had happened neither he nor his mother had any fear that fatty coon would ever trouble them again. xv helpful mr. crow frisky squirrel's mother had often told him not to have anything to do with mr. crow. "he's such a tricky old fellow!" she said. "he seems to have nothing to do but get folks into trouble. don't go near him, and don't have anything to say to him." now, i'm sure frisky squirrel wanted to mind his mother. but he couldn't help feeling that she was mistaken about mr. crow. he was so solemn, and he always looked so like a preacher--for he usually wore shiny, black clothes--that frisky squirrel thought him a very nice old gentleman. and he told such interesting stories, too! frisky could listen to him by the hour. so, in spite of his mother's warnings, whenever he met mr. crow frisky squirrel would always stop and ask the old gentleman how his cold was. you see, mr. crow's voice was never what you would call _clear_. you might say that there was a decided croak in it. and very often, even on hot summer days, he would have a muffler wound about his throat. it happened that one day when frisky came across mr. crow in the woods, something reminded mr. crow that he knew where there were plenty of butternuts--just waiting to be eaten. "is that so?" frisky exclaimed. "have you had some of them?" "no! i don't care for butternuts," mr. crow said, with a slight cough. "i've always considered them bad for my throat. i've made it a rule never to eat them. you don't happen to like them, do you?" now, if there was one thing that frisky squirrel liked a little better than anything else, it was butternuts. and when he answered mr. crow's question he was so excited that his voice shook just the least bit. "i'm _very_ fond of them," he said. "well, well!" mr. crow exclaimed. "i'm glad i happened to mention the matter. they're there--heaps of 'em--great brown piles of 'em--thousands of 'em!" "_where_ are they?" frisky asked him eagerly. "oh--i thought i told you," mr. crow said. "why--they're in farmer green's attic. his boy put them up there to dry. i saw them through the window, this very day." frisky squirrel was disappointed. "i mustn't go to farmer green's house," he said. "pooh! why not?" asked mr. crow. "it isn't safe. i went there once to get some cake, and i nearly lost my life in the kitchen." "ah! but this is different," mr. crow explained. "you don't have to go into the kitchen at all. all you have to do is to climb that big tree close by the house. and you can hop right through the attic window. there's nobody upstairs in the daytime. in fact, i should call it one of the safest places to go that i know of." when mr. crow said that, frisky believed him. mr. crow was so old, and so wise, and so solemn, that frisky thought that anything he said must be true. "i'm going past farmer green's house right now," mr. crow told frisky. "i have a little matter to attend to over in the cornfield. and if you want to come along with me i don't mind stopping to show you where the butternuts are. but of course if you're afraid--" mr. crow stopped to cough. he buttoned his coat closer around his throat. and then he looked sideways at frisky squirrel. "afraid!" frisky exclaimed. "i'm not afraid at all." "good!" said mr. crow. "now, then, young fellow! you skip along over to farmer green's and i'll be waiting for you down the road a bit." old mr. crow flapped himself away then. and frisky squirrel hurried off in a straight line for the farmhouse. xvi caught in the attic long before frisky squirrel reached farmer green's place, he began to worry for fear mr. crow had grown tired of waiting for him. to be sure, he knew that the butternuts were up in the attic. but to tell the truth, frisky felt uneasy about visiting the farmhouse. and he hoped that mr. crow would show him just how to get through the attic window, as he had promised. just as he came in sight of the farmhouse frisky heard mr. crow calling to him from a tall tree close by the road. he was glad to hear the old gentleman's husky voice. and he couldn't help thinking how kind mr. crow was, and how mistaken his mother had been to believe that mr. crow liked to get folks into trouble. "come on!" said mr. crow, as frisky paused beneath the tall tree. "i'm going to fly over to that tree right next the farmhouse. you run along the stone-wall and climb up beside me." "now, then!" said mr. crow a few minutes later, when frisky had joined him. "there's the window--wide open. and there are the butternuts, lying on the floor." frisky could see great heaps of nuts. and without another word he crept out on a limb that brushed the window-sill and in another moment he was inside farmer green's attic. frisky forgot to thank mr. crow. he never once thought of that, he was in such a hurry to taste those nuts. he just ate and ate and ate; and he was so busy cracking the nuts and picking out the meats that he never noticed that it was growing dark. at last, to his astonishment, the attic door opened. frisky leaped behind a pile of butternuts and hid, while someone walked across the floor. then there was a bang. and frisky shivered when he heard it. but the person left the attic at once and went downstairs. frisky squirrel breathed easily again. and he stole out from behind the pile of nuts. somehow, he did not care to eat any more. he wanted to get out of the house. so he went to the window. and then frisky squirrel was really frightened. the window was shut! you see, while frisky was so busy eating butternuts, a storm was gathering. and it grew so dark, and the wind howled so shrilly, that farmer green's wife thought she had better shut the attic window, to keep the rain from beating in. how frisky squirrel did wish he had minded his mother and kept away from old mr. crow! poor frisky looked out through the little square panes of glass. his friend mr. crow was nowhere to be seen. frisky had hoped that the old gentleman would be waiting for him, and that since mr. crow had told him how to get inside the attic he would be able to tell him how to get out again. the wind swept the branches of the tall tree back and forth across the window. how easy it would have been--if the window had been open--to hop out upon one of those swaying limbs! frisky pressed his soft little body close against the glass and pushed as hard as he could. but he couldn't break out of his prison. it was a queer thing--that glass! he could see through it just as if there was nothing there; and yet it held him fast. frisky could not understand it. xvii farmer green's cat there were plenty of nuts in the attic of farmer green's house, where frisky squirrel found himself a prisoner. and you might think that he wouldn't have felt so unhappy to be there. but frisky was unhappy. he was so frightened that he crept into a corner and stayed there, shivering, for a long time. and he couldn't have eaten a single one of those nuts if he had tried. he wanted to be free. he wanted to be out of doors. he wanted to go home. after a time the storm passed. the wind stopped blowing. and the sun shone again. but nobody came to the attic to open the window. when it grew quite light frisky did not feel so frightened. and at last he crept out of his corner and went nosing about the room, hoping to find a hole big enough to squeeze through. now, you must not think frisky squirrel was stupid, when i tell you that the door was open all this time. it was open just the smallest crack, for farmer green's wife hadn't quite closed it when she went downstairs. frisky had been too frightened to notice it. besides, the attic had been dark, you know. well, when frisky found that crack he was the happiest little fellow you ever saw. it was only a narrow opening; but he slipped through it. and there he was, right at the head of the stairs! so downstairs he hurried. the door below was wide open. and in less time than it takes to tell the story, frisky was in farmer green's kitchen. he remembered that room very well, for he had been there when he came to taste that white-frosted cake. but this time frisky did not stop to look for any cake. he just scampered across the floor toward the wide doorway. and as he bounded across the room something sprang out from behind the stove and started after him. frisky squirrel saw that some animal had leaped at him. he didn't stop to take a good look; but he supposed that it was a small dog that had been drying himself by the fire. frisky knew that dogs couldn't climb trees. so he sprang through the door, never touching the big stone doorstep at all, and hurried toward a tree in farmer green's yard. he laughed as he scurried up the tree-trunk. and then he looked down at his enemy. then frisky squirrel's heart almost stood still. that small animal was coming right up the tree after him! of course, it wasn't a dog at all. it was farmer green's cat. frisky had never seen a cat before and he began to wonder whether the small creature could fly, as well as climb trees. he scampered to the top of the tree; and then he leaped upon a branch of another tree close by. no! the small animal could not fly. she climbed as high as she dared. and then she stopped. her eyes glared fiercely; and her tail grew as big as frisky's own. but that didn't help her at all. she could only sit there and watch frisky squirrel as he dropped from branch to branch, until she lost sight of him among the leaves. xviii the threshing-machine one day, late in the summer, frisky squirrel saw something that caused him great excitement. right into the center of one of farmer green's fields he saw farmer green's horses drag a queer sort of wagon. it was bigger than any other wagon he had ever seen, and had wheels upon it in all sorts of strange places, instead of just at the four corners, like all the wagons he had ever noticed before. frisky climbed a tree, in order to get a better view of what was happening. as he watched, he saw still another odd wagon hauled upon the field alongside the first one. this wagon carried a broad walk which led from the back and went right up what you might call a hill, to the front of the wagon. and there it stopped, with a wooden bar blocking the way. frisky squirrel thought that that was the strangest path he had ever seen, for it seemed to lead to nowhere, and why it should have a bar at the top, to keep anyone from going nowhere at all, was more than even his lively mind could puzzle out. in and out and about these strange wagons were as many as a dozen men, and one boy--each of them as busy as he could be. and as for the boy, johnnie green, he was busier than anybody else. he seemed to be everywhere at once, and in everybody's way. and frisky couldn't see that he was doing anything at all. but he noticed that johnnie appeared to be having a fine time. as frisky squirrel looked down upon this unusual sight from his perch in the tree he saw that farmer green's wagons--the kind frisky had often seen before--were bringing up sheaves of wheat. and pretty soon--and this made frisky's eyes almost pop out of his head--he saw a man lead a pair of horses up that short, steep walk and tie them to the bar at the top of it. then the horses began to walk. now, probably you wouldn't think there was anything strange about that. but there was. the odd thing about that was that although the horses walked, they didn't get anywhere at all. so far as frisky squirrel could see, they just walked and walked, and that was all there was to it. after they had walked for a long time they still stayed right in the same place, tied fast to the wooden bar in front of them. now, when the horses were walking, the other wagon began to set up a great noise. it reminded frisky of the time the gristmill began to grind, when he thought the world was coming to an end. those queer wheels on the wagon began to turn, too. but frisky didn't pay much attention to them. what caught his eye and kept him puzzling was those two horses, always walking, but never going anywhere. frisky squirrel stayed in his tree as long as he could, until at last he simply had to hurry home and beg his mother to come over to the field with him. as it happened, mrs. squirrel was not very busy that day, so she dropped her knitting, or whatever it was that she was doing, and pretty soon she and frisky were up in the tree that he had climbed before. "oh! they're threshing!" mrs. squirrel said, after she had taken one good look at what was going on. "they're threshing out the wheat-kernels, so the miller can grind them into flour." "but those horses--" said frisky. "why is it that they don't walk right against that bar, and break it, and tumble off onto the ground?" "that's a horse-power," mrs. squirrel explained. "the path the horses are treading on moves, and that's why they stay right in the same place. the path moves 'round and 'round all the time, like a broad chain. that's what makes the wheels turn on the threshing-machine." "it must be fun," said frisky squirrel. "i wish i could be a horse, and make that horse-power turn like that." "nonsense!" said his mother. "you'd soon grow tired of it." but frisky squirrel knew better. [illustration: caught in the attic] xix frisky's prison frisky squirrel simply couldn't keep away from the field where the wheat was being threshed. he was on hand before the men came in the morning, and he was the last to leave the place at night. he ate all his meals right on the spot, and went home only to sleep. now, it was not long before johnnie green spied frisky squirrel loitering about the field. and he made up his mind that that young squirrel was altogether too bold. so johnnie green rigged up a trap, which he made from an old box, a few sticks, and a bit of string. and one noon, while the men were eating their lunch under some trees a little way from the threshing-machine, frisky squirrel was just reckless enough to steal up and try to get his luncheon too, by eating some of the wheat-kernels. he noticed a tempting little heap of kernels, right beside a little box. and he had just stopped to eat them when all at once the box toppled over on him, and there he was--caught! when johnnie green discovered that he had captured that young squirrel he was just as glad as frisky was sorry and frightened. that, you see, is just the difference between _catching_ and _being caught_. it makes a great difference whether you are outside the trap, or in it. and frisky squirrel was in it. no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get away. he made up his mind that if anybody tried to lift him out of the box he would bite him. but johnnie green had caught squirrels before. he pulled on a pair of heavy gloves, and all frisky's biting did no good--or harm--at all. when johnnie reached home he put his prize into a neat little wire cage. as soon as frisky found himself inside it he looked all around, to see if there wasn't some opening big enough to squeeze through. and sure enough! there was a little door. and in a twinkling frisky had popped himself through it and had started to run. he ran and ran. but strange to say, all his running took him nowhere at all. at first he couldn't discover what was the matter. but after a while he saw that he was inside a broad wheel, made of wire. and when he ran the wheel simply spun 'round and 'round. he stopped running then. for he thought of the horses that made the horse-power go. he was in just the same fix that they were in. he could run as fast as he pleased, but he would still stay right there inside the wheel. poor frisky squirrel crept back into his cage. he remembered what his mother had said, when he wished he could be a horse, and make the tread-mill go. "you'd soon grow tired of it," she had told him. at the time, frisky hadn't believed her. but now he knew that his mother was wiser than he was. and he wondered if he was ever going to see her again. xx johnnie green forgets something although johnnie green took good care of frisky squirrel, that once lively young chap did not like his new home in the wire cage at all. his young master gave him plenty to eat--nuts and grain--all the things that frisky had always liked before. but now nothing tasted the same. frisky never felt really hungry. he just sat in his cage and moped and sulked. once in a great while he would go out into his wheel, and run and run until he was so tired that he was ready to drop. whenever johnnie green saw him running inside the wheel that young man would laugh aloud--he was so pleased. but nothing ever pleased frisky squirrel any more. he grew peevish and cross and sulky. being cooped up in that little wire prison day after day made an entirely different squirrel of him. he longed to be free once more--free to scamper through the tree-tops, and along the stone-walls and the rail-fences. and at night he dreamed of hunting for beechnuts, and chestnuts, and hickorynuts, on which he would feast to his heart's content--in his dreams. but in the daytime, when his young master put some of those very same nuts into his cage, frisky would hardly touch them. he lost his plumpness. his smooth coat grew rough. and his tail--that beautiful tail that jimmy rabbit had tried to cut off--alas! it was no longer beautiful. it was thin and ragged-looking. at last johnnie green began to be worried about his pet squirrel. and one day when frisky refused to eat a single nut johnnie green thought that he must be really ill. so he opened the door of the cage, which he always kept carefully fastened, and forgetting all about his thick gloves he put his hand inside the little wire house, picked frisky up by the back of his neck, just as if he were a kitten, and lifted him out of his prison. johnnie wanted to see if he could find out what was the trouble with the little fellow. he thought that perhaps he had a bad tooth, which prevented his eating. and johnnie tried to look inside of frisky's mouth. at first frisky kept perfectly still. he could hardly believe that he was outside that horrid, cramped cage. but it was true! and when johnnie green began to poke at his mouth with a bare finger frisky squirrel thought that it was high time for him to do something. so he did it. he didn't wait another second. quick as a flash he sank his sharp teeth into johnnie green's finger. poor johnnie green! he gave such a yell that you could have heard him far away on the other side of swift river. that was the first thing he did. and the next thing that johnnie did was to drop frisky right on the ground. that was exactly what frisky wanted. he no sooner touched the ground than he was away like a shot. it was not at all like running inside the wheel. every leap carried him further away from farmer green's house. and he had crossed the road and disappeared behind the stone-wall before johnnie green knew what had happened. for several days after that johnnie green had to keep his finger bound up in a bandage. and he felt very sad at losing his pet squirrel. but frisky squirrel was not sad at all. and neither was his mother. at first, when frisky tumbled inside her house she hardly knew him. for a long time she had almost stopped believing he would ever come home again. and now that he had come he was so changed that she could scarcely believe it was he. the first thing that mrs. squirrel did was to set before frisky some choice seeds which she had gathered that very day. and frisky ate every one of them. you see, he had found his appetite again. for several days after that frisky squirrel did very little except eat. and it was surprising--the way he began to grow fat. his sides soon stuck out more than they ever had before, and his coat began to grow sleek and shiny. and as for his tail--though it took longer for _that_ to look beautiful again, in the course of time it became just as thick and handsome as ever. mrs. squirrel was very glad of that. for frisky reminded her of his father once more. xxi that disagreeable freddie weasel almost everybody liked frisky squirrel, he was such a happy little fellow. but there were a few of the forest-people with whom frisky never was able to make friends. _they_ were the disagreeable, selfish kind, who never liked anyone except themselves. freddie weasel was one of the few with whom frisky squirrel never could have a good time. frisky often tried to play with him. but their games always ended in trouble; and i must say that it was not frisky's fault. now, frisky had often heard it said among his neighbors that no one had ever caught freddie weasel asleep. indeed, jimmy rabbit claimed that freddie weasel never slept at all. that seemed very strange to frisky. he could hardly believe it. and he made up his mind that he would watch freddie weasel and see whether it was really true. so one evening, just after sundown, when frisky met freddie weasel in the woods, he thought it would be a good time to spy upon him. of course it wasn't at all a polite thing to do. but frisky was very curious. and anyhow, he meant no harm. "hello, freddie!" he said, as he came face to face with the sly, slim chap. "hello, yourself!" said freddie weasel in a disagreeable tone. "where you going?" frisky inquired pleasantly enough. "never you mind," freddie weasel answered. "and you'd better keep out of my way, or i'll bite your head off." frisky squirrel didn't know what to say. very few people--except jasper jay and one or two other quarrelsome forest-folk--had ever spoken to him like that. so he just stood still and stared. that seemed to make freddie angrier than ever. he darted toward frisky and tried to bite his neck. but frisky was quick, too. he ran up a tree before freddie weasel could catch him, and smiled at the bad-tempered fellow. "you'd better go home and take a nap," frisky told him. "you're crosser than ever to-day." freddie looked up at frisky as if he would just like to get hold of him for about one second. "i never sleep," he said. "i'm always awake. and some night when you're dreaming, i'm coming to your house and i'm going to eat you." and then he hurried away. frisky squirrel ran down the tree and dashed after freddie. he didn't make any noise at all. and he was careful not to let freddie see him. he was going to find out for himself whether freddie stayed awake all night. mrs. squirrel was worried because frisky didn't come home. of course he ought to have let her know what he was about. but he felt that he mustn't lose sight of freddie. and he saw no one at all by whom he could send word to his mother as to where he was and what he was doing. frisky had the busiest sort of time following freddie. it grew so dark that it was very hard to see freddie weasel as he sneaked along through the bushes, hunting for small birds that build their nests on the ground. freddie weasel caught several sleeping birds. and frisky could not help being sorry for them. he began to feel very guilty for having teased them, and for having eaten their eggs. finally it grew so dark that frisky had just about decided that he would have to give up spying on freddie and hurry home, when he saw freddie slip into a hole in a bank and vanish. was freddie weasel at last going to bed and to sleep? xxii catching freddie weasel asleep when frisky squirrel saw freddie weasel disappear in the hole in the bank he became greatly excited. he forgot all about going home. and though he had begun to feel somewhat sleepy, he was wide awake again in no time. he sat right down, a little way from the hole, and he never once took his eyes off it. frisky hoped that perhaps he would hear freddie snoring in there, if he waited long enough. but no such thing happened. there seemed to be but one way to discover whether freddie was asleep, and _that_ was to creep into the hole himself and find out. now, frisky squirrel was no coward, as you know. but he did not like the idea of crawling into that narrow, dark place. he knew that freddie weasel's teeth were very sharp. and he knew that freddie was quick to use them, too. frisky was trying hard to think of some good way to catch freddie asleep, when who should come strolling along but henry skunk! frisky always supposed that he was called "henry" because he was so fond of _hens_--for he visited farmer green's hen-house oftener than any other of the forest-people--but whether _that_ was why he was so named i should really not want to say. "well, well! you're out pretty late," henry skunk called, as soon as he saw frisky. frisky squirrel held a paw to his mouth, so henry skunk would not talk too loudly. "what's going on?" henry skunk asked, with growing interest. "you haven't seen a hen around here, have you?" frisky shook his head. "it's freddie weasel--" he explained, pointing at the hole. "he's in there; and i'm trying to catch him asleep." henry skunk came nearer. "why don't you go inside?" he asked. frisky shook his head again. "i don't see very well in the dark," he said, "and i'd rather not." henry nodded. "i can see first rate at night," he told frisky. "i'll find out for you if freddie weasel is asleep. and if he is, i'll come right back and tell you, and then you can go in with me and see for yourself." "good!" said frisky. "that's very kind of you, i'm sure." so henry skunk walked up to the hole. it was entirely too small for him to enter. "i'll have to make it bigger," he remarked. "won't freddie hear you?" frisky squirrel inquired. "i'll be very quiet about it," henry skunk replied. "so if he's asleep i hardly think i'll disturb him." and at that henry set to work. now, in order to dig, he had to stick his head into the hole. but he knew he could see freddie weasel if freddie tried to bite his nose; so henry was not afraid. how he did make the dirt fly! frisky wished that he could dig like that. he thought it must be great fun. and he watched henry so closely that he never saw that slim, sneaking form that crept up behind him. and when frisky felt something jump right on top of him, and when a terrible, sharp pain seized his shoulder, he was scared half out of his wits. it was freddie weasel! he had left his home through another hole, which frisky knew nothing about. frisky squirrel called for help. he shouted henry skunk's name again and again, as he rolled over and over on the ground, trying to shake freddie off his back. but how could henry skunk hear him, with his head buried inside the hole? _he_ didn't know what was happening. and if frisky and freddie hadn't rolled right upon him he probably would never have looked around until it was too late. but when henry felt that rolling, tumbling, fighting pair bump against him he drew his head out of the hole in a hurry. and as soon as he saw what was happening he sunk his own sharp teeth deep into freddie weasel's back. freddie let go of frisky squirrel at once. and he gave henry skunk's nose such a savage nip that henry just had to squeal--it hurt him so. in order to squeal, of course he had to open his mouth. and when he opened his mouth he had to let go of freddie weasel. that was exactly what freddie weasel wanted. he sprang up and dashed into the bushes. he was not afraid of frisky squirrel. but henry skunk was altogether too big. freddie did not enjoy fighting _him_. well! frisky, with his aching shoulder, and henry skunk, with his sore nose, went off together. they didn't say a word to each other, until they reached the hickory tree where frisky lived. and then all they said was "good-night!" frisky never spied on anybody again. he had learned that it is better not to meddle in other people's private affairs. so, after all, perhaps it was a good thing that he tried, just once, to catch freddie weasel asleep. the end * * * * * * transcriber's notes 1. punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards. 2. frontispiece illustration relocated to after copyright notice. 3. roman numerals in original table of contents retained and applied at chapter headings. 4. typographic errors corrected in original: p. 12 friskly to frisky ("frisky simply had") p. 49 like to liked ("frisky squirrel liked to play") [illustration] famous animal stories hazel squirrel and other stories by howard b. famous fully illustrated whitman publishing co. racine, wisconsin copyright, 1917, by whitman publishing co. racine, wis. printed in united states of america contents page in squirrel town 7 hazel and bushy-tail visit some strange lands 15 mrs. screech owl 26 the raccoon and the bees 41 pinkie whiskers 67 illustrations little hazel was playing far out on a leafy branch (_frontispiece_) page "i'll be down in a jiffy" 9 he held out some nuts to them 13 she rocked them in her doll's cradle 21 mr. bat saw them huddled together 23 mother squirrel entertains her visitors 27 the squirrels go on a picnic 32 feasting on hazel nuts 36 the raccoon watches the boys 40 "yum, yum, but it is fine" 48 "oh, coonie, tell me where it is" 51 chuck arrived at the big oak tree 55 he grabbed up a big stick 59 hazel squirrel in squirrel town "come, little sleepy-eyes, it's time to get up," said mrs. squirrel, one morning. but little bushy-tail was having such a nice dream about a wonderful tree where all kinds of nuts grew side by side on the same branch that he did not answer. only his eyelids quivered ever so little, so his mother knew he was pretending. "come, come!" she repeated. "little hazel squirrel is up and playing outside." in a twinkling he had jumped out of bed and pressed his furry little nose against the window pane. little hazel was playing far out on a leafy branch with one eye on bushy-tail's house, nestled in a forked limb close to the trunk. she waved her lovely gray tail when she saw him and began chattering very fast. "wait a minute," bushy-tail called back, "i'll be down in a jiffy." and he was in such a hurry that he tied his tie on sideways and brushed his furry tail the wrong way, which made him look very funny. he even forgot to take a bite of the nice breakfast his mother had left on the table for him. right through the window he bounded, instead of walking through the door as he had been taught to do, and landed close beside hazel, far out on the leafy bough. "oh, hazel," he cried, "i've had the loveliest dream!" "you old sleepy-head," she answered, "you lay abed dreaming when you might be out playing in the fresh air." [illustration: "i'll be down in a jiffy"] "hazel," bushy-tail began, teetering up and down on the branch in his excitement, "i'm sick of peanuts, aren't you?" "no," she answered, "i love them. mother says they make my coat thick and sleek." they were city squirrels, you know, who lived in a park and had their daily supply of peanuts left at their door by the park-keeper. "no, i am not sick of peanuts," she continued. "but what has that to do with your dream?" "everything," he went on. "oh, hazel, i dreamed of a most wonderful tree where all kinds of nuts--hickory, walnuts, chestnuts and hazel-nuts--grew side by side on the same branch. we must hurry and get there before they are all gone," and he jumped up so quickly that hazel went spinning round and round the branch she was holding on to with her sharp little claws. now, hazel was a good little squirrel who always talked things over with her mother, so as they were hurrying away across the park she suddenly stopped. "i forgot to tell mother where i was going," she said. her play-fellow grabbed her by the tail. "it's to be a surprise," he whispered. "we will make little baskets of dry twigs and carry home enough for everybody." this sounded fine. the pink in the sky was by now beginning to fade. presently mr. sun poked his head over the hilltops far away. he saw the runaway children and he thought to give them a scare that would send them home. so he bounded out from behind a cloud and sent a long, dark shadow right across the path in front of them. "oh, my," cried hazel, "what's that?" both children were so startled they jumped straight up in the air and landed on the other side of the dark shadow. "let's go home," suggested hazel, but when they turned to go they saw their own shadows and of course they knew them. how they laughed then, for who would think of being afraid of a lifeless shadow? by and by they met a workman. he had a dinner-pail in his hand and in his pockets peanuts for the squirrels, for every morning and night he passed through the park. now, the good citizens of the town had made laws that no one should harm a squirrel and the squirrels knew this. so hazel and bushy-tail were not afraid of the workman and when he knelt down and held out some nuts to them, they ran right up to him, chattering all the while. bushy-tail took one of the nuts, cracked it with his teeth and, holding it with both hands, ate very greedily. for, you see, the sight of the nuts reminded him he had not eaten any breakfast, and suddenly he became very hungry. [illustration: he held out some nuts to them] hazel was not a bit hungry, so she put the nut in the pocket of one of her cheeks, which made her look as if she had the mumps. then she ran up the workman's arm and perched on his shoulder, where her soft, bushy tail brushed against his ears and tickled him in the neck. poor little hazel squirrel. little did she think the wonderful tree they were looking for was only a dream-tree. but how was she to know that all kinds of nuts never did, nor ever can grow side by side on the same branch, save only in the wonderland we enter through the gates of sleep. "i don't see your wonderful tree anywhere, bushy-tail," she said. "i think it's down this way a little," he answered. and once more they scampered off together, chattering and waving their lovely tails. hazel and bushy-tail visit strange lands of all nice things to do one of the very nicest is to go traveling; to see what kind of things grow in faraway places and how other folks plan their cities. my, what fun hazel squirrel and bushy-tail had! all day long they explored new trees and ran along strange fences and peered into yards where children they had never seen before were playing. once they ran into a garden where some little girls were having a tea-party. the children called to the squirrels and held out sweet, sticky things for them to eat. they were scampering back along the wall when a thoughtless little boy, who had not been invited to the party, threw a tiny stone at bushy-tail. it hit right in the center of his tail. bushy-tail gave a startled little cry and jumped down off the wall, hazel following close behind. the little girls jumped up and ran, too. they wanted to do something to help if they could. but the squirrels ran up the opposite side of a maple and were soon out of sight. bushy-tail was not waving his tail so proudly now. it was hurting terribly. hazel took her blue-bordered handkerchief out and wrapped it around the hurt place as best she could. "oh, bushy-tail," she sobbed, "how i wish my mother were here. she would know just what to do for you," and great tears began to roll down her cheeks. it made bushy-tail feel so badly to see his little playmate unhappy that for the minute he forgot all about his sore tail. he put his arms around her soft neck and wiped the tears away with his little red-bordered handkerchief. "perhaps we had better go home," he whispered in her ear. you see, he had forgotten about his dream-tree now. so they scrambled down the tree trunk again and then it suddenly dawned on them that they had no idea where they were or in which direction the park lay. they asked a sparrow, but she did not deign to answer them. they asked a robin, but she was hurrying home with a worm in her mouth and could only mumble something which sounded like "yeast." they asked a pussy-cat and she said if they would come home with her first she would look it up in a book she had there. but hazel did not want to go. "for," she whispered to bushy-tail, "she has eyes like a witch." so they ran on a little farther until they came to a hat lying upside down on the ground. it was warm and soft inside and hazel thought it would be a good place for a little rest. she was beginning to feel very tired. bushy-tail had lost the handkerchief off his tail, too, and it was hurting again. so the two little squirrels rolled themselves up into two dear, little balls and hazel spread her lovely tail over them to keep the wind off, and before you could say "jack robinson" they were both sound asleep. when mr. smith came back after his hat you can imagine how surprised he was to find it had a new fur lining. "how i wish alice could see them," he thought. then, very carefully, so as not to frighten them, he spread his coat over them and started for home with a queer shaped bundle in his arms. "guess what i have," he cried as his little girl ran to the door to meet him. "ice cream," she screamed. "guess again!" "kittens." "you're warmer," he said, "but not right yet." then, as he carefully lifted up his coat, "baby squirrel," she cried, and clapped her hands and jumped up and down for joy. of course the ride had awakened the squirrels. they were still more frightened to be in this strange house with strange people standing around looking at them. they huddled very close together inside the hat and would not eat the nuts alice brought them. have you ever been so scared you could not eat? "don't you think they would be more comfortable in a regular bed?" alice asked her father and he agreed heartily. so she ran and got her doll's cradle and tucked them in carefully between the white sheets and rocked them just a little, so they would think they were in the branches of a tree and feel more at home. alice's mother had to remind her several times it was her bed-time, too, she did so hate to leave her dear little play-fellows. by and by mother moon looked in at the window. quick as a flash both squirrels jumped out of the cradle and ran to ask her the shortest way home. they found the window just a little open. you can imagine they did not stop to say good-bye to alice or think to thank her for the supper they had not eaten. outside everything looked very strange and unreal. they had never been out alone at night before. do you know why everything looks so different at night, even though it is most as light as day? it is because the shadows the moon makes are blacker and each one seems to hide something alive. [illustration: she rocked them in her doll's cradle] hazel and bushy-tail ran as fast as their little legs could carry them. they were too scared to even ask mrs. moon the shortest way home. presently it began to rain and mrs. moon went inside to get out of the wet. two little streams of tears began to roll down hazel's cheeks. if you have never been home-sick, you have no way of knowing how unhappy these poor, little, lost squirrels were. it is a much worse pain than cutting one's finger. something hurt bushy-tail inside so much he wanted to cry, too. but he had to be brave and try and comfort little hazel. besides, they had only one handkerchief now. you remember hazel had tied hers around his sore tail and he had lost it. presently they came to the edge of a woods. but hazel would not venture in. she was afraid some robin would think they were the "babes in the woods" and cover them with leaves. "such queer things are happening to us now," she said. mr. bat was passing by and he saw them huddled together between the rails of a fence. thinking they were the lost children of his neighbor, mrs. squirrel, he hurried off to tell her. [illustration: mr. bat saw them huddled together] now, only the week before two of this poor lady's little ones had got caught in a trap. she had scolded, coaxed and begged the farmer's boys not to carry them off, but they had paid no attention to her. and when mr. bat told her what he had seen she jumped right out of bed and ran down the tree without stopping to take an umbrella or put on her rubbers even. of course she was disappointed when she saw only hazel and bushy-tail! "they are city squirrels," she told mr. bat. "we have only red ones here in the woods. i can't imagine how these little squirrels got so far from home alone." "how worried their mothers must be," she thought to herself and that settled it. she took them by the shoulders and shook them very gently and when they opened their eyes and saw the fire-fly and mr. bat and mrs. red squirrel, for just a moment they thought they were dreaming. but when mrs. red squirrel questioned them, all she could make out between their sobs was that they were lost and wanted to go home. "you poor, dear little things," she said, hugging them in her soft arms, "come home with me to-night and we will help you find your mothers in the morning." i can tell you it seemed good to the little runaways to be among kind friends again, and when mrs. squirrel saw four little squirrels all curled up together in her house, she was most as happy as if they had been four red ones, instead of two red and two gray. mrs. screech owl it was so much darker in the woods than in the park the little city squirrels could hardly believe it was time to get up when mother red squirrel called them. but after they had washed the sleepiness out of their eyes they could see little pink patches of sky through the leaves and they knew the clock was not fast after all. it took them much longer to dress than usual, because they had not stopped to brush their tails out the night before. hazel's was dreadfully matted down and bushie's was full of burs. how it did hurt when hazel, as carefully as could be, helped him pick them out. but he bravely choked back the tears and blew his nose very hard. he did not want his new friends to think him a baby, of course. [illustration: mother squirrel entertains her visitors] even their breakfast was different. they had country beetles; nice, white mushrooms, and crisp, fresh apple seeds. and after they had eaten and eaten, mrs. red squirrel asked her little guests many questions--what their names were, where they lived, and how ever did they get so far from home? how the two little squirrels' eyes popped out as bushy-tail told them of their home in the park, built for them out of boards and nails. he told how the caretaker came around every morning with a cup on a long pole and left a fresh supply of peanuts on their back porch, and he told of the wonderful dream he had had about a tree where all kinds of nuts grew side by side on the same branch. "i was so tired of peanuts," he added, "i set out to find the tree--but somehow--got--lost," and then his voice became so shaky he couldn't tell any more. mother red squirrel helped him to another fat beetle and said as soon as she had her work done she would see what she could do about it. "so many of the wood folks are moving south for the winter," she said. "i am sure i can find someone who will be going your way." now, mrs. screech owl had seen mrs. red squirrel hurry through the rain the night before with neither umbrella nor rubbers. so she said to herself, "this looks very queer. i will wait opposite the squirrel house, for i must know all." and presently the entire woods was awakened by mrs. screech owl's shrill voice calling, "extra, extra! mrs. red squirrel has city cousins visiting her." of course this was not true. but "extras" seldom are accurate. anyway, mrs. red squirrel thought she never would get her work done. you would not believe me if i should tell you how many times the door bell rang. first her neighbor on one side dropped in to borrow a pattern. then a neighbor on the other side came over to return a book. then friends from all over the woods just happened by, and always after a second or two they would say, "i hear you have company from the city." and then mother red squirrel would have to stop work and tell all about it. but the worst of it was nobody knew the way back to the park. pretty soon mother red squirrel had an idea. "mr. bat is a great traveler," she said, "even if he does go to places only at night, i'll ask him." now, nobody likes to be waked out of a sound sleep to be asked questions. mr. bat blinked his eyes very hard, though by that time the sun was too bright for him to see a thing, and at first he said he didn't know the way either. then mrs. red squirrel flattered him a little and told how she had asked everybody the way to the park and nobody knew. "i felt sure you'd know," she added, at which mr. bat remembered he did and promised to take the little runaways home, just as soon as it should be dark enough! when bushy-tail and hazel learned that they were going home that night, they jumped up and down for joy. i forgot to tell you mrs. red squirrel's two children were called pinky and rusty. they were such lively, frolicsome children that you just couldn't help but laugh to see them, and pretty soon bushy-tail and hazel had forgotten all about how their parents must be worrying. "how would it be if we all went on a picnic today?" asked mother red squirrel. "i know where there are hazel nuts." i need not tell you what they answered. so she gave them each a little basket and took two herself and whisk--they were springing through the air, leaping from the ends of teetering branches or spinning along the tops of fences in a jiffy. [illustration: the squirrels go on a picnic] by and by they came to a lot of bushes and mrs. red squirrel put down her basket "let's not stop here," cried bushy-tail. "see, the burs don't open a bit, they are much too green to eat." but mrs. red squirrel said, "if we wait for the wind to rattle them out for us, chipmunks and children from over the hill will not leave us one. if we even wait until the burs open, crows and jays will carry them off." then she showed them how to cut off the little clusters of burs and soon they had their baskets full. what fun that picnic was. there were so many new things to see in that woods. bushy-tail kept crying, "oh, look here, hazel," and she was kept busy calling, "come quick, bushy-tail." bushy-tail had one eye open for the wonderful tree where all kinds of nuts grew side by side on the same branch. he could remember just how it looked in his dream, so he felt sure he would know it the minute he espied it. "if there isn't one in this wonderful woods," he was beginning to think, "i don't believe there is one anywhere." all of a sudden hazel and bushy-tail heard their little play-fellows give a scared little cry. they looked around quickly, but could see nothing to be frightened at--only a man carrying a heavy black stick against his shoulder. he kept stealing up nearer, and hazel and bushy-tail kept very still watching him. "i think he has some peanuts for us," said hazel squirrel. "what do we want of peanuts now, come on," said bushy-tail, and they ran around the trunk of the tree. just then a terrifying "whiz" went past their ears followed by a deafening "bang." they were so frightened they ran and ran, and did not stop until they were all out of breath. it was the only time they ever had even seen a man with a gun. after that they never took nuts from men carrying sticks. that afternoon mrs. red squirrel made hazel and bushy-tail take a little nap. "you know you will be up late to-night," she said. mr. bat had not forgotten his promise and just as soon as it began to get dark he was knocking at the door. he said there would be a moon, so they need not bother a fire-fly to go too. mrs. red squirrel and her two children went as far as the edge of the woods with them. "now you know the way you must come often," they called after bushy-tail and hazel. "don't forget to come and see us, too, and thank you for the nice time," they called back. you see, they had been well trained and did not forget their manners. [illustration: feasting on hazel nuts] "i think i should like to live in the park," said rusty to his mother. "bushy says there are no traps there or bad men with guns." mrs. red squirrel was thinking she would like to have her groceries delivered, too, so she answered, "i think i shall speak to your father about it to-night." when bushy-tail and little hazel squirrel finally reached the edge of the park it was very late and they were very tired indeed. but when they got within sight of their homes and saw the lights in the windows they began to run again anyway. do you think their mothers were glad to see them once more? well, was your mother glad to see you that day she thought you were lost, when you really were not? and if you still want to know if bushy-tail ever found the wonderful tree where all kinds of nuts grew side by side on the same branch, all i can tell you is that they never found it in the park and that they never ran away again. the raccoon and the bees [illustration: the raccoon watches the boys] a raccoon was dozing, perched up in a big tree one fine, bright summer day. he lay on a broad limb high up in the tree. there was a fresh breeze stirring, and he swayed to and fro with the branches. he had been rocking on this lofty perch for some time, with his eyes half closed, when he was roused by the shouting of some small, bare-footed boys who were playing in a hayfield close by. coonie, as he was called for short, after yawning and stretching for some minutes, finally shifted his position so as to see the boys. he had watched them often from the top of a tree, and he always enjoyed the fun, because they did such queer things. it was some minutes before he could find out what they were doing, but at last he discovered that they had found a bumble-bees' nest. they had long paddles in their hands and were running around, yelling, and waving the paddles frantically. occasionally one of the boys screamed, and then several of the others would run toward him, all beating the air with their paddles. coonie watched very closely and saw one boy run up to the hive, give it a quick poke, and then scamper away. with every poke at the hive, a number of bees would fly out of the opening and sail away on the air. finally a small boy approached the hive and gave it a hard poke. instantly about a dozen bees swarmed out, and the boy started to run. he had gone but half a dozen feet, however, when he tripped and fell, and by the way he rolled and kicked, it was plain to be seen that the bees were getting the better of him. it was great fun watching them, and coonie decided that he would get a nearer view, so he crawled down the tree in a hurry and ran to the big oak at the edge of the field. from there he could get a full view of the battle. he chuckled to himself as he thought of the fun he was having all by himself. the battle between the boys and the bees was raging furiously by this time. the boys charged time after time, and with each attack became bolder and bolder, until finally coonie saw that they were winning. the plucky little bees fought bravely to defend their home, but the boys were too strong for them, and one by one they fell and were crushed or beaten to pieces with the paddles. after two or three pokes at the hive to make sure that none of the bees remained, a great shout went up from the boys who surrounded the deserted nest. children, have you ever seen a wild bees' nest--a real bumble-bees' home? they are nearly always built on the ground, and are made of little pieces of grass piled and woven together into a little mound. at the very top there is a small hole which is used as the doorway through which the bees enter. the wall is not very thick, but is put together tightly so the wind will not blow it away, and it is hollow. it is in this mound that the bees store their honey for the winter. during the warm summer days they work hard, carrying tiny drops of honey which they gather from the flowers and storing it so they will have something to eat during the cold weather. when the cold winds come, in the fall and winter, and the flowers are dead, the little workers stop their labor and gather together in the home they have been preparing all summer. when the snow comes, the little grass storehouse is buried snug and warm underneath the white blanket. it was just such a nest as this that coonie watched the boys robbing of its treasure. poor little bees! all their hard work had been in vain, and they had even lost their little lives in the brave effort to protect their winter's food supply. but even from his hiding place coonie could see that the boys had not won the battle without some losses. big lumps were beginning to swell up on their faces and arms, and the little boy who had tripped and fallen could hardly see because his eyes were nearly swollen shut. the boys tore away the mound and took out the honey, layer by layer, and squeezed out the golden syrup. just as they were licking the last drops from their sticky fingers, coonie saw a man walking towards them. when he was near enough, he began talking to them in an angry way. "why, mr. jones," coonie heard one boy say, "you don't use bumble-bees' honey, do you?" "no, boys, i don't use the honey myself, but i don't want you to kill the bees or rob their nests so they will have to starve. bees do a great deal of good on the farm." "what good are bumble-bees?" one of the boys asked. "why, they do a lot of good. they distribute the pollen from the heads of the clover, and that makes the seed mature and develop." this was news to coonie, for he never knew before that bumble-bees were of any use, but then he had never had much to do with them. one day when he was playing he had caught a bee in his little paws and had received a sting, and he never forgot how sore his paws were and how they swelled so that he was unable to climb for several days. since that time he had always made it a practice to move away when a bee came too close. after the boys were gone and farmer jones had gone back to his house, coonie decided that he would go over to the field and see what the inside of the bees' nest looked like. as he approached the field where the battle had taken place, much to his surprise, he saw his friend woodchuck snooping around among the ruins. when coonie reached him, he sat up on his hind feet and began licking his paws. "hello, chuck," coonie said. "what are you doing? why, your face is a sight. my, such a dirty face. why, chuck, i am surprised," and he noticed the greedy look in chuck's eyes. "yum! yum!" was the only reply he received and chuck began picking around in the grass. [illustration: "yum, yum, but it is fine"] "i say, chuck," coonie said again, "what are you doing?" "doing?" echoed chuck. "why, this is the best food i have had for a long time, coonie. my face may be a little sticky, but it can be washed, so i don't care. such a treat as i have had! i am sorry you missed it all. i saw some boys capering and scampering around here this afternoon, and as soon as they left i came over to see what it was all about, and this is what i found," and chuck held up a small yellow pod. "just taste one, coonie, it is sweeter than any berry i ever tasted. yum, yum, but it is fine." "hum!" sniffed coonie. "it may suit your taste, but honey is much too sticky for me." "well, i'm glad you don't want any," chuck replied. "you always were rather particular, but i am only chuck anyhow, and as some people call me a hog--a ground-hog, you know--i might as well live up to my name." "but, chuck, just go down to the brook and look at your face." chuck, seeing that his supply of sweets was exhausted, did as coonie suggested and waddled toward the brook, coonie accompanying him. as chuck was washing his face and paws, coonie remarked that he knew where there was plenty of the kind of honey chuck had been feasting on. "only," he added, "it is much cleaner than what you have been eating." "oh, coonie, tell me where it is, won't you, please?" cried chuck, stopping his toilet and catching up coonie's paw. "i just dearly love it, and i'll be your lifelong friend if you will tell me where it is so i can get some more." now coonie felt very mischievous, and he thought of a plan that would give him some fun. [illustration: "oh, coonie tell me where it is"] "why, chuck," he replied, "you would not expect me to tell you where all this honey is, would you? you would go eat it all up in one night. you are such a 'hoggie' you know." "oh, be a good friend, coonie, and tell me. if you only knew how badly i want some more." "well, i'll tell you," coonie said, "but there may be some danger in getting it." "i'll never stop for the danger," chuck boasted. "you remember farmer jones, don't you?" "i should say i do. i'll never forget the whole family. do you remember the time we were caught stealing the corn in his crib last fall? and, oh, that fierce dog! indeed, i never will forget him. if it is farmer jones' honey, it is perfectly safe, for it makes me shiver to even think of that dog, jack." "oh, i knew that you would be afraid," taunted coonie. "tomorrow is saturday, and the jones always go to town on saturday. i have been planning to go over and give myself a little treat." "but, coonie, how about the dog?" "oh, he goes to town with them. i have watched them from the tree where i live, and they never miss going on saturday afternoons, and taking the dog with them." "but how do you know where the honey is, coonie?" "how? why, i have often sampled it." now coonie told a falsehood when he said he had eaten some of the honey, but he was anxious to have some fun, and so he resorted to a falsehood in order to carry out his plans. this plan never pays, as you will see later. "have you really sampled it, coonie?" chuck asked. "and is it good, and is it very hard to get?" chuck was all excitement, for he could not get rid of the memory of the taste of the honey he had just been eating. "'hard to get?'" repeated coonie. "why, chuck, there are great piles of it, and knowing the grounds as i do, it will be easy to get it. now you meet me tomorrow and i'll take you over with me. meet me by the big oak tree in the corner of the woods, just after noon tomorrow. i must leave you now, because i am going fishing to-night with some of the other coons that live near me. good-bye until tomorrow," and coonie went away with a chuckle. [illustration: chuck arrived at the big oak tree] the next afternoon, chuck arrived at the big oak tree in the corner of the woods. but there was no coonie waiting for him. he walked around the tree several times to make sure and then mounted a nearby stump. the woods were very quiet save for the droning of insects, and the sun that shone between the leaves beat down very hot. before chuck knew it he had fallen asleep at his post. when coonie came trotting up and saw chuck perched there fast asleep he said to himself: "what a fine chance to play a trick." so he picked a long blade of grass with a feathery end and crept up from behind so carefully that not a twig cracked. when he was within arm's reach he tickled poor chuck way up his nose. chuck waked with a start and bounded right into the air, landing at some distance off. he had no idea that someone had played a trick on him. "what ails you, chuck?" coonie cried, running up, with a friendly, anxious expression on his face, for chuck was almost sneezing his head off. "guess--a--nasty old--fly--crawled up--my--nose," chuck managed to get out between sneezes. "too bad, old chap," said coonie, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "come along with me and we'll get some honey, and that will make you feel better." still sneezing, chuck trotted off with coonie across the fields. when they reached farmer jones' barnyard everything seemed very quiet and sleepy around there. "is that where the honey is kept?" whispered chuck, as coonie took a peep in at the barn-door. "no," answered coonie, "i just wanted to see if the double-buggy was there. it is not, and now i feel perfectly sure they have all gone to town and taken the dog with them." then they felt quite safe. very boldly they walked around to the gate in the yard where coonie said the honey was. "hurrah," he cried, "someone has left the gate open for us. they must have been expecting us!" "i have never been in here before," said chuck. "what are all those square white boxes along the fence?" "those are called bee-hives," coonie answered, a little proudly, to think he knew so much. "the honey is kept inside." "but how do we get at it?" asked chuck. "those little holes in front look hardly big enough for me to get my paw through, much less my head and shoulders." "oh," laughed coonie, "how stupid you are! you just go up and knock very loudly at the door and when a bee comes out, you ask if he hasn't something to eat for a poor fellow, who has come a long way and is very hungry and tired. but should he pay no attention to you, hit him with your paw. this will frighten the others so they will bring out all the honey you wish and leave it there on the ledge for you. come on, i'm hungry, aren't you, chuck?" [illustration: he grabbed up a big stick] "am i?" said chuck. "well, i should say so." he was licking his jaws in memory of the little feast he had had the day before. coonie looked at chuck out of the corners of his mischievous eyes, but chuck never guessed he was laughing at him when he added, "i'll take a hive at this end, you can have one at that. let's hurry." chuck was in a hurry indeed. already he felt sure he could smell the honey, so he left coonie and ran toward the hive at the end of the row in high spirits. but before he knocked on it he stopped and looked back. he wanted to see how coonie was getting along. now, coonie did not really want any honey. all he wanted to do was to play a joke on his friend, but it very often happens that the practical joker gets the worst of it in the end. and as coonie stepped up to the hive and pretended to knock, he put his paw right down on top of the queen bee, whom he did not see sunning herself on the ledge. the queen bee has no sting, you know, and cannot defend herself. she is by no means helpless, however. she has, in fact, an entire army ready to fight for her at a moment's call. when the other bees heard their queen's cry for help they all rushed out of their hives and began at once attacking coonie. they buzzed angrily around him and burrowed into his fur until he rolled over and over on the ground, doubled up with the pain. this was what chuck saw when he turned around to find out how coonie was getting along! he grabbed up a big stick, but he soon saw there was nothing he could do to help. he also saw that the bees in their mad attack had left their fort unguarded. so he stuck his paw inside the door and broke off a good sized piece of comb full of nice, yellow honey. then he started for the woods again as fast as he could. [illustration] coonie did not see chuck as he shot past him a few minutes later, trying to shake off the bees that still clung to him, as he ran. and a few days later, when they met down by the brook, coonie pretended not to see him. "howdy, coonie," chuck called out in his cheery way. "where are you going so fast? well, i never," he added, noticing coonie's bumps and bandages. "have you been in a fight?" "just a little fuss with farmer jones' dog. he's twice my size and a regular bully," coonie answered, as he brushed by chuck in such a hurry that he did not hear the latter call after him. "say, old friend, meet me by the big oak tree in the corner of the woods tomorrow and we'll go after some more of that good honey!" it was chuck's turn to laugh now, for "he laughs best who laughs last," you know. pinkie whiskers chapter i little pinkie whiskers was born in a big city and lived with his father gray, mother gray and two little sisters, twinkle and winkle, in a tin box, which was hidden under a big garbage can. mother gray had hunted and found nice scraps of cotton and bits of straw. with these she made a soft, warm nest and here they all lived as cozy and happy as could be. one day a poor, old man came down the alley and looked in all the garbage cans to see what he could find that he might sell, for that is the way he got his money to buy his food and shelter. when he came to the garbage can over our family of rats, he did not see their little home and pushed their box right over. pinkie whiskers, twinkle and winkle were all alone. they fell out onto the brick pavement and began to cry. oh, my, how they cried! mother gray and father gray were out getting a nice supper for them all. mother gray heard her babies cry and came running home as fast as she could. when she saw what had happened, she was very distressed. she quieted her babies and nestled down with them in the fence corner. father gray said, "never mind, my dears, i will find you a nice, new home," and away he went. bye and bye he returned and told them with joy that he had found a splendid place for them to live. it was just inside the door of a big apartment building. father gray and mother gray gathered together all the pieces of their nest and carried them in their mouths. then, keeping very close to the fence, they started for their new home. this new home was a nice square place under the floor and far enough back so that a cat or a dog could not reach them. soon they were settled and pinkie whiskers, twinkle and winkle were fast asleep. in the morning, just as mrs. gray was washing her children's faces, they heard a bell ring right in front of their door. to their great alarm their home began to tremble and then move. yes, really move. up and up it went, faster and faster. oh, how frightened they were! all at once their home stopped. they heard people talking and then down, down they went. my, what a queer feeling it gave them! they heard a voice say, "your elevator is running fine today, tom." "an elevator!" cried mother gray--"our home is in an elevator. we must move at once for we cannot be always going up and down." father gray just laughed and laughed, then said: "well, well, i have heard of elevators, but i never expected to have a ride in one and now we have a home in one. that is a good joke, ha! ha!" mother gray said, "you may laugh all you wish, but i am tired of city life, you are never sure of a safe home. we will go to the country to live." "oh, oh," cried pinkie whiskers, "let us go and live with uncle whiskers in the cheese factory." "a very good idea," said father gray, and straightway they started for the country. when they arrived at the cheese factory, they found it dark and deserted, but father gray discovered a hole and soon they had all crawled in through this hole. mother gray selected a great, big round cheese to live in. father gray made an entrance into it and very soon the tired rats were in bed in the cheese. the next day pinkie whiskers, winkle and twinkle went out in the meadow to explore and they found a net, which some boy had lost. pinkie whiskers said, "you just watch me catch that butterfly in this net!" he swiftly ran after the butterfly, but when the butterfly saw pinkie whiskers coming, he thought how nice it would be to have a ride on pinkie whiskers' back, so he flew after him. now, pinkie whiskers did not know much about butterflies and he thought this butterfly was chasing him. so pinkie whiskers started to run for home. "don't let him catch me," begged pinkie whiskers. winkle and twinkle took out their little handkerchiefs and waved them fast and hard. the butterfly was so amazed at the sight, that he forgot about pinkie whiskers and flew away. chapter ii pinkie whiskers ran to winkle and twinkle. he was so frightened that he hid behind them. twinkle laughed and said: "do not hide, for the butterfly has gone and anyway it was as afraid of us as you were of it. butterflies are perfectly harmless. they do not sting or bite. they are as gentle and timid as they are beautiful." pinkie whiskers looked in every direction, but he could not see the butterfly, so he shook himself and ran about once more. he was glad to know that butterflies were harmless, for he might meet one again. "look, look! what is that?" cried winkle as he pointed to a fat, brown, furry animal which was coming slowly toward them. "i do not know," replied twinkle. "don't you think that we had better go now?" "no, indeed," said pinkie whiskers, who had suddenly become very brave. "i want to wait and see what kind of an animal he is." when the fat, brown, furry animal was near enough to hear, pinkie whiskers called out: "hello! who are you?" "i am sammy woodchuck. i live here in the meadow. you look like strangers. where do you live?" he inquired. "our names are twinkle gray, winkle gray and pinkie whiskers gray," replied pinkie whiskers. "we live in the cheese factory." "why, that is strange, that is strange," said sammy woodchuck. "you must be relatives of uncle whiskers. i have heard him speak of you. welcome to the country." "thank you very much for your welcome," replied pinkie whiskers, for mother gray had taught her children to be very polite. "why do you call our uncle whiskers, your uncle whiskers," inquired twinkle. "is he related to you also?" sammy woodchuck threw back his fat head and laughed until his eyes were full of tears. "no, no!" he cried. "he is not related to me. how could a rat and a woodchuck be related? everyone calls him uncle whiskers because we all love him. he is so kind and good to us all. you see i have known him all my life and 'uncle' is my pet name for him. you ask any of the animals about here and they will tell you the same thing." "that is very nice," said pinkie whiskers. "when i get old, i hope everyone will love me enough to call me 'uncle.' i shall try and be good and kind like uncle whiskers." "won't you come home with me?" urged sammy woodchuck. "it is just a nice walk from here." "yes, we would love to go home with you," cried the three little brothers all at once. as they walked along they came to a beautiful tree and at the foot of this tree lay a shiny new axe. pinkie whiskers ran and picked it up. he had never seen anything like it, so he turned it over and over and inquired: "what is this wonderful thing and what is it for?" "it is an axe," replied sammy woodchuck. "it is very sharp and farmer gale uses it to cut down trees. you see he has already started to chop this tree down. he must have been called away and i am sure that he intends to return soon or he would not have left his axe here." "i will help him chop down this tree," said pinkie whiskers. he took off his little red coat and hung it on a stick, which farmer gale had stuck in the ground. then he put his brown cap on top of his little red coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves and began his work. he swung the axe high above his head and brought it down against the tree with a great bang! he looked and to his disappointment saw that he had not cut even a tiny chip. "i will try again," he vowed. "what others have done, i can do." he chopped and chopped at the big tree until he was rewarded by bright, yellow chips flying through the air. winkle, twinkle and sammy woodchuck stood by and watched him with great admiration. sammy woodchuck said: "you are doing splendid work, pinkie whiskers. i will take some of these chips home with me and put them across my front door. i always use the back door. it is more safe." chapter iii "why do you bother to have a front door if you only pile sticks in front of it and never use it?" inquired twinkle. "just to fool farmer gale's dog and any other animal, which might try to catch me. while they were digging at my front door, i could slip out my back door and escape," replied sammy woodchuck. "has farmer gale's dog ever tried to catch you?" asked pinkie whiskers. "oh, yes, indeed, many times," answered sammy woodchuck. "one time i was fast asleep when i heard a sniff, sniff at my front door. at first i thought that it must be part of a dream. "i rubbed my eyes, sat up and listened. in a moment i heard the sniff, sniff again. this time it was very loud and near. then i heard scratching and digging. i knew that dog, for i had seen him many times and i knew that he never stopped until he got what he was after. "i could hear him digging so fast that i knew it would not be long before he would be right in my house. i began to move slowly and quietly for the back door. i got out safely and was running across the meadow when the dog saw me in the moonlight and gave chase. "of course i did not have a chance with him for i am so fat. he was gaining every moment and i was so tired and out of breath that i thought every step would be my last one, when a cat ran right between us. "now, the dog hated the cat worse than he did me, so he gave chase to the cat. away they both ran at a terrible speed. i knew that the cat could run faster than the dog and would soon be safe and sound up a tree, so i rested a moment and then went over to willie woodchuck's and spent the rest of the night." "my, that was a dreadful experience," said pinkie whiskers and he shuddered. "did you ever live in that house again?" inquired winkle. "oh, no, indeed," replied sammy woodchuck. "that dog was sure to go back and he would never rest until he had dug clear through my home. no, indeed, i could not live there again. i stayed with willie woodchuck for a long time until i felt safe to find another spot to build my home." pinkie whiskers did not chop while sammy woodchuck was telling his story. he just leaned upon his axe and listened. now he said: "never mind, sammy woodchuck, you need never be afraid in your home again. i will chop down this tree and put it across your front door. no one can dig into your house then." the tree was so big and pinkie whiskers was so little that sammy woodchuck had to smile to himself at the idea of his moving it. however, he did not let pinkie whiskers see him smile, for he did not want to hurt his feelings. he said: "you are very kind, my dear friend, and i appreciate your wish to help me, but my home is too far away for you to drag that big tree to it." "poof! poof!" snorted pinkie whiskers. "i will show you what i can do." he chopped away so fast and swung the axe so high and rapidly that it was just a shiny streak rushing through the air. suddenly he missed his aim and the axe came down on his toe instead of the tree. "oh, my toe!" he cried. "i've cut my toe." poor pinkie whiskers! he danced about on one foot in circles, while he held the other foot in his hand. sammy woodchuck caught hold of him and threw him to the ground. twinkle quickly slipped off the shoe which was badly cut and winkle pulled off his little white sock. they all anxiously looked at the toe and to their relief found that it was only cut a very little. in fact it looked as if it had just been scratched. "we must bind it up with something," said sammy woodchuck. "here is my handkerchief," cried twinkle. "here is mine and it is perfectly clean. please use it," urged winkle. "i will need both handkerchiefs," said sammy woodchuck. so he took both handkerchiefs and wound them very neatly around pinkie whiskers' toe and foot. pinkie whiskers felt himself to be quite a hero. his toe did not hurt him any more and he liked all of this sympathy and attention. chapter iv pinkie whiskers liked to be a hero so well that he limped about and grunted when he stepped on his foot, even though it did not hurt him. it was so nice to see how sorry everyone looked. suddenly he heard a voice above him say, "too bad! too bad!" "why, hello!" cried sammy woodchuck. "where did you come from, billy jay?" "i have been right here in this tree all the time you and your little friends have been here," laughed billy jay. "why didn't you come down and visit with us before, instead of hiding up amongst the leaves," demanded sammy woodchuck rather crossly. "because i wanted to see if pinkie whiskers could really chop down this tree," replied billy jay. "of course i can chop it down. you just watch me," boasted pinkie whiskers. "if i were you, i would leave the tree, for it won't take me long to chop it in two and you might take a tumble." pinkie whiskers forgot all about his toe and bandaged foot. he worked as he had never worked before. he became very warm and thirsty. he called to twinkle: "won't you please bring me some water. i am choking." "i would be glad to, if i knew where to find it," replied twinkle. "there is a creek just beyond those trees," said billy jay. "you can take his cap and fill it with water and bring it back to him. i will go with you and show you the way." "i will go along also and help twinkle carry the water back for pinkie whiskers. i am sure that cap would be very heavy if it were full of water," said winkle. "umph! umph!" grunted sammy woodchuck. "you have very kind and thoughtful brothers." just then they saw uncle whiskers coming across the meadow with a pitch-fork in his hand. "he must be after some hay to put in his nest," said sammy woodchuck. pinkie whiskers gave a mighty blow at the tree with his axe and turned to look at uncle whiskers. it was a fatal mistake, for that last blow chopped the tree in two and it began to sway and totter. "run, pinkie whiskers, run!" screamed sammy woodchuck. pinkie whiskers dropped his axe and ran. alas! he ran in the wrong direction. as he looked back over his shoulder he saw that the tree was falling right upon him. "i wish i had run away sooner," thought pinkie whiskers. uncle whiskers saw his danger and shouted, "dodge to the side, dodge to the side!" but poor pinkie whiskers was so confused that he did not hear. he just ran and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. all the time the tree was falling and in an instant more it would have crashed down and crushed pinkie whiskers, had it not been for billy jay. when billy jay saw what was happening, he did not say a word, just flew like a streak and grabbed pinkie whiskers by his long tail and jerked him out of the way. no, not entirely out of the way, for it was too late for that, but far enough out of the way so that the tree trunk missed him and he was only caught in the branches and covered with green leaves. "oh! oh!" cried twinkle. "oh! oh!" cried winkle. "our little brother will be killed. oh! oh!" they dropped the cap which was full of water and ran to the spot where they had seen pinkie whiskers disappear. billy jay came wriggling out and said, "pinkie whiskers is all right. just let him rest where he is for awhile. he is only tired out from running and from fright." "yes, billy jay is right. we will let him rest and catch his breath," said uncle whiskers. it was very hard for winkle and twinkle to accept this advice, but they had been taught to obey their elders, so they only looked at one another and stayed where they were. chapter v suddenly they heard a sweet, gentle voice calling, "oh, please come here, oh, please come here." they all looked high and low, but they could see no one. uncle whiskers cried, "who are you and where are you? we hear you but we cannot see you." "i am the tree-fairy and i am right here in the stump of this tree," came the reply. they all rushed over to the tree and, sure enough, there was the most beautiful creature they had ever seen. she was lying on her back and her wings were caught in the bark of the stump. "won't you please help me to free my wings," she begged. "you must tell us how we can do it without tearing them," said sammy woodchuck. "i fear that i am far too clumsy to touch them anyway." uncle whiskers looked at the lovely, delicate wings and said, "i can gnaw the bark away from them." "please let me help you," begged winkle. "and please let me help also," begged twinkle. "my teeth are as sharp as needles." "my bill is very sharp and while you gnaw, i will pick the bark away. i promise to be very careful," said billy jay. so they all set to work and the tree-fairy smiled upon them. her smile was so full of love that each little animal felt his heart beat faster and was even more eager to free her wings quickly. "it is perfectly wonderful that pinkie whiskers did not cut you in two when he chopped down the tree. we had no idea that you were in it," said uncle whiskers. the tree-fairy laughed a soft, silvery laugh and answered, "no, of course you did not know that i was here. when i am free i will tell you all about how i came to be here." just then billy jay picked away a big piece of bark and the tree-fairy slowly but surely pulled one wing free. uncle whiskers, twinkle and winkle worked all the harder and faster and soon twinkle cried: "i think you can move your wing now, dear tree-fairy. try to move it just a tiny bit." the tree-fairy needed no urging. very gently and slowly she pulled her wing out from under the bark. just to show her little friends that she could use them as well as ever, she fluttered them about. they were so thin that you could see through them and they sparkled and shone in the sunshine like silver. "can't you get up now?" asked sammy woodchuck. "i will try," replied the tree-fairy. she tried and tried all in vain. she could move, but she could not rise. at last she said: "my foot is caught. i am so sorry, dear friend, but i cannot leave this stump until my foot is free. it is so far down in the stump that i am afraid you will have a very hard time to loosen it." she was right. it seemed for awhile that it was impossible to loosen it. billy jay picked and picked. twinkle and winkle gnawed and gnawed, but all of their efforts seemed of no use. finally uncle whiskers said, "i will take the axe and chop away the outside of the stump." "i will take the pitch-fork and lift the soft pulp away," cried sammy woodchuck. so they worked and worked until they had broken the stump apart and the tree-fairy was free once more. as she stepped out into the green meadow, she was so happy that she danced and as she danced, her little silver slippers twinkled and glittered. "isn't she wonderful?" whispered winkle to twinkle. "yes. she is so lovely that i am afraid she will not stay with us," whispered twinkle to winkle. uncle whiskers looked and looked at the tree-fairy until his eyes were almost blinded by her sparkle in the sunshine. he said: "please come over here under the shade of this tree, where we can look at you all we wish and then tell us how you came to be in that tree." chapter vi the tree-fairy danced over and sat down under the tree with uncle whiskers, winkle, twinkle and sammy woodchuck. billy jay did not care to sit down. he just hopped around and around the tree-fairy and stared at her. in the meantime pinkie whiskers had caught his breath and was rested. he tried to get up, but found that a branch of the tree held him down. he wiggled and twisted but he could not rise. "help! help!" called pinkie whiskers. "my goodness!" cried uncle whiskers. "we forgot all about that blessed pinkie whiskers. come we must help him." they all rushed over to the tree and there was pinkie whiskers lying on his back and kicking as hard as he could. "now just keep perfectly still and we will break the branches away, then you can get up," said uncle whiskers. pinkie whiskers was so glad to see winkle, twinkle, uncle whiskers, sammy woodchuck and billy jay that he cried. "now, now!" said uncle whiskers. "you eat one of those big apples that are just waiting right by your hand for you and you will feel better." "when i woke up, it was all so still that i thought you had all gone home and left me," sobbed pinkie whiskers. "we are here," cried twinkle. "we are here," cried winkle, "and we will have you out of that tree in a moment." already sammy woodchuck and uncle whiskers had broken the branches away and now they lifted pinkie whiskers to his feet. pinkie whiskers was all smiles as he stood in the green meadow again, but he said: "i shall never cut down a tree again. this one nearly killed me." "you owe your life to billy jay. it was billy who caught your tail and pulled you out from under the falling tree trunk just in time or you surely would have been crushed," said uncle whiskers. "all is well that ends well and really, pinkie whiskers, you never did such a wonderful thing before and you probably will never do such a wonderful deed in your life again, for you have set the tree-fairy free. look over there and you will see her," said sammy woodchuck. pinkie whiskers looked and he was so surprised that his little mouth flew open, and i am ashamed to say that he stared too. yes, he actually stared at the tree-fairy. the tree-fairy smiled and came dancing over to him. she bowed and said, "i want to thank you for saving my life. if it had not been for you, i would not be standing here in this beautiful sunshine." "do tell us how you came to be in the tree trunk, won't you please?" begged twinkle. "to be sure, i will tell you," laughed the tree-fairy. this is the story she told: "in fairyland there are witches as well as fairies, just as on earth there are bad people as well as good people. "i had always been very friendly with the witches and they were as kind to me as they could be until one day i went to visit the witch discontent. she was never satisfied with anything and never smiled or laughed. "you know i love everybody and everything. i am happy all the day long and i never fret or worry. on this day i was so happy over the beautiful sunshine and flowers that i was singing and dancing. "the witch discontent could not help but feel my happiness and bye and bye she forgot to whine and scold and actually began to sing with me. she had never been known to sing a note before. "then i told her a joke and she laughed. my, how she laughed! we were having the best kind of a time when one of the other witches entered and found the witch discontent enjoying herself. "the witch discontent was so angry to be caught having a good time that she flew into a terrible rage, and drove me from the house." chapter vii when the tree-fairy told of the witch discontent's rage, she shuddered, then she continued: "the witch discontent not only drove me from her house, but she chased me and she screamed at me every step of the way. i could run faster than she and i reached my home first. i ran into the house, closed and bolted the door. "i was just in time for i had only finished locking the door when the witch discontent threw herself against it. "when she found that the door was locked she was more angry than ever. she tore her hair and jumped wildly about. she put her mouth to the key hole and screamed: "'i will punish you yet, you just wait. i will sit here in front of your door until you come out.' "now, i knew that she could not harm me unless she looked me in the eye and made certain passes with her hands, so i decided right then and there that i would stay in the house and keep the door locked. "all day long the witch discontent sat in front of the door and all the while her rage grew and grew until she was a terrible sight. i peeped out of the window at her several times and each time i was glad she did not see me. "night came and she was still there. i went quietly to bed and soon fell asleep. it was bright daylight when i awakened. my first thought was one of happiness and then i remembered about the witch discontent and i was eager to see if she was still sitting outside of my door. "i tip-toed over to the window and looked out. i could not see her so i leaned further out and almost instantly a rough hand grabbed me and dragged me right out of the window and dropped me on the ground. "i found myself facing the witch discontent. she had been waiting under my window for this very chance. she shook me and then held me very tight while she looked me in the eye, made passes and hissed: "'you wicked tree-fairy! i will drive you from fairyland. i will send you to earth and imprison you in a tree forever. you shall never come forth into the sunshine again or dance, laugh or sing unless i will it. now go,' she screamed as she flung me from her and made more strange passes with both hands. "that is all i can remember until i found myself imprisoned in the heart of yonder tree. i could not stir. i was fitted into the tree as if i had grown there. "i do not know how long i have been in the tree, for i slept a great deal, but always when i was awake i sang little songs of joy to myself and kept a merry heart. but best of all, i never ceased to love the witch discontent in spite of what she had done to me. "you know that love always conquers hate and it was love that sent the man to cut down the tree and when he was called away, it was love that sent pinkie whiskers and you, my dear friends, to finish the work and free me." as the tree-fairy stopped talking there were tears of gratitude and happiness in her eyes. she looked so sweet and beautiful that her new friends wondered how anyone could ever have been unkind to her. "you certainly have had a very hard time and i am glad that we could help you out of your prison," said uncle whiskers. "why are you called a tree-fairy if you have only lived in a tree here on earth?" inquired pinkie whiskers. the tree-fairy laughed merrily as she replied: "bless your heart, i have always lived in a tree. my home was in a tree in fairyland, but the tree was hollow and i had several rooms. as i told you i even had a door and a window." "fairyland must be a wonderful place," sighed twinkle. "i wish that i could make you a visit when you are back in your own home once more." the tree-fairy put her arms about him and said, "i would love to have you but it is impossible. you could never reach there. i must be going now, but i will never forget your kindness to me and i will always watch over you all and turn your trouble into happiness. in fact, i will tell all of the good fairies to help you." "pinkie whiskers, you shall always be protected in time of need. some day when you are in danger, i will save you as you have saved me and now good-bye, dear friends, good-bye." chapter viii when pinkie whiskers reached home, he told mother and father gray all about how he chopped down the tree and how the beautiful tree-fairy was freed from her prison. mother gray said: "my son, you have had a very wonderful experience, but please be careful what you do and where you go. country life is very different from city life and you are very young." "yes, mother, i will be careful, but i want to do everything that anyone else does," replied pinkie whiskers. "now, now," spoke uncle whiskers, "let the boy have his way. i am sure that he is a genius. if pinkie whiskers does all of the things which he longs to do, he will be ready for anything. why, he may be able to write a book about the wonderful things he sees and hears or perhaps he may paint a beautiful picture." "that sounds very nice," replied mother gray, "but i am afraid something dreadful will happen to him, while he is doing all of these things." just then billy jay flew onto the window-sill and called out, "i invite you all to come with me down to the creek. i want to show you city rats something that you have never seen before." "oh, goodie!" cried twinkle. "oh, goodie!" cried winkle. "hurrah! hurrah!" shouted pinkie whiskers. "now, children, please stop shouting while i tell you my plan," begged mother gray. "it will soon be supper time, so how would you like to take our supper with us and eat it down by the creek?" "oh, yes, a picnic, a picnic! let us have a picnic!" shouted the three little brothers at once. they all hurried about and helped mother gray put up the lunch and very soon they were all scampering off to the creek for their picnic. billy jay flew ahead of them and they followed him to a place in the creek, where the shore curved and the rocks sheltered the water so that it was as quiet and as still as a pond. pinkie whiskers, winkle and twinkle raced down to the creek and looked down into the water. to their amazement, they saw their faces reflected: pinkie whiskers cried out: "is this the surprise? is this what you wished to show us?" "no," laughed billy jay. "you look again and forget about your reflection and tell me what you see." they all looked again and this time they saw funny little creatures wiggling and swimming about. pinkie whiskers asked: "what are they and where are they going?" mother gray and father gray looked and they also were surprised, for they had never seen or heard of anything like them. billy jay was thoroughly enjoying himself, for it is always fun to show something strange to your friends. he laughed as he answered: "they are tadpoles and they are not going anywhere. they just swim around and around here near the shore, for this is their home just as the cheese factory is your home." "will they always be small like this?" inquired pinkie whiskers. "bless your heart, no," replied billy jay. "they will grow into great, big frogs." they all watched the tadpoles swim about until mother gray said: "come, children, we will have our supper now." they found a very nice place to eat and everyone was so hungry that they began to eat at once. pinkie whiskers kept thinking of the tadpoles and without saying a word he slipped away from the others and went back to the creek. right beside a big rock, he found a fish rod and net. he picked them up and began to fish. in a moment a tadpole swallowed the hook. pinkie whiskers jerked him out of the water and put the net under him. "you are the little tadpole i have been fishing for," he cried. the little tadpole was so amazed that he could not speak. he just hung and flopped on the hook. chapter ix the longer that pinkie whiskers looked at the tadpole, the more proud he grew to think that he had caught him. at last the tadpole found his voice and said, "oh, please put me back in the water. i want to go home." pinkie whiskers jumped when the tadpole spoke. someway he had not thought about a tadpole having a voice or being able to talk. "no, my little tadpole. i am not going to let you go back home. i am going to take you to my home. i will put you in a glass of water and you can swim as much as you please," replied pinkie whiskers. "i have a mother and father just as you have and i do not want to leave them. i want to stay here and i will stay here," said the tadpole and he jumped about so lively that pinkie whiskers had all he could do to keep from falling off the stone. "stop pulling my fish line. stop pulling it, i say," cried pinkie whiskers. the little tadpole paid no heed to pinkie whiskers' demand. in fact he jumped and pulled all the harder and faster. the first thing pinkie whiskers knew, he had slipped off from the stone and was up to his neck in the water. but pinkie whiskers was not the kind to give up a prize easily. my, no! he remembered to hold fast to the fish rod. the little tadpole swam away as far as he could and tugged and tugged at the line. pinkie whiskers was nearly pulled over in the water, but just in time he threw out his hand and caught hold of the rock, then using all the strength he had, he managed to climb up onto it. once more he pulled the tadpole free from the water and slipped the net under it. he was panting for breath but he said: "now, little tadpole, i am surely going to take you home with me, but i will not put you in the glass. i will fry you and eat you for my breakfast." the poor little tadpole was so frightened that he screamed, "help! help! help!" now father frog had gone back on the shore to stretch himself in the sunshine and to see what he could find to eat. he was returning to the creek when he heard his son call for help. he was very much frightened for he knew that the tadpole could not get up onto the rocks himself and yet the call for help came from the rocks. father frog hopped as fast as he could, but his heart beat so wildly that he could not jump very far at a time. when he reached the creek he stopped a moment to look and what he saw struck him with such horror that he could not move. his legs would not work. about this same time mother gray went to give pinkie whiskers another piece of bread and cheese. to her surprise he was nowhere to be seen. she called and called, but pinkie whiskers was too far away to hear. "father gray, you must go and find pinkie whiskers," she cried. "run as fast as you can. i am afraid that he is in trouble or mischief." "now, now," said uncle whiskers, "you worry too much about pinkie whiskers. he is a fine, big boy and can take care of himself." "that may be true but i am going to find him now," said mother gray as she ran for the creek. father gray said, "wait a moment and i will come along with you." winkle cried, "i want to come too." twinkle cried, "i want to come too, please wait for me." uncle whiskers grumbled, "well, i never did see such a fuss in my life. i have not had enough to eat yet, but i guess i will join the hunt for pinkie whiskers anyway." billy jay laughed and said, "i will go with you, uncle whiskers. we can finish our supper when we return." so off they all ran after pinkie whiskers and although mother gray was worried, she never suspected what serious trouble and danger pinkie whiskers was in. chapter x after the first shock, father frog became very angry with pinkie whiskers. his legs began to move once more and he made long hops and jumps until he stood beside pinkie whiskers. he puffed out his white throat and croaked: "chug-e-rum! chug-e-rum! what are you doing with my son and why did you pull him out of the water?" pinkie whiskers looked at father frog and when he saw how big he was, felt rather small and timid himself, but he raised up to his full height and said: "is this little tadpole your son? i fished for him just for the sport of it and i did intend to take him home with me." "chug-e-rum! chug-e-rum!" roared father frog, "drop my son at once." the way father frog demanded pinkie whiskers to drop the tadpole made him very determined not to do so. it was very naughty of pinkie whiskers, and afterwards he was most sorry for having been so rude, unkind and stubborn, but then it was too late. pinkie whiskers said to father frog, "i will not drop your son. he is my little tadpole now and i am going to take him home and fry him for my breakfast." "chug-e-rum! chug-e-rum!" growled father frog. "you shall do nothing of the kind. don't you know that frogs and tadpoles have feelings and hearts as well as yourself?" "poof! poof!" scoffed pinkie whiskers. "i don't care. i am going to take my tadpole home with me anyway." father frog did not say a word. he just jumped against pinkie whiskers with such force that the rod flew out of his hand and the little tadpole went flop back into his watery home. pinkie whiskers fell flat upon the stone and when he scrambled to his feet, there beside him stood father frog. in his hand he held a long green reed, which he had pulled out of the creek. pinkie whiskers thought that father frog intended to whip him with the reed and he begged, "please do not whip me. i will never touch your little tadpoles again." "indeed you will not touch them again, for you will not be here to fish for them." with these words, the frog grabbed pinkie whiskers and threw him up onto his back. he then put the reed around him so that he could not possibly get away. pinkie whiskers kicked and kicked. he jerked and jerked, but the reed was so strong that he could not break it. he tried to bite it with his teeth, but he could not reach around far enough. father frog hopped up onto a big rock that was hanging right over the creek. pinkie whiskers screamed and kicked some more, but it was of no use. "oh, please put me down, mr. frog," begged pinkie whiskers. "indeed, i will not. you showed my son no mercy and now you cannot expect me to show you any kindness," replied father frog. "but he is back in the creek with his brothers and sisters now," said pinkie whiskers. "yes, he is back home with a fish hook in his mouth and i will have a hard time to get it out. besides it was not you or your kindness that put him back home. it was because i made you drop him," growled father frog. "what are you going to do to me?" cried pinkie whiskers. "i am going to dump you into the water," replied father frog. "oh, mother! mother! father! father! help me! come quick and help me!" screamed pinkie whiskers. mother gray and all of the others heard him scream and they ran as fast as they could to his aid. billy jay could fly faster than the others could run, and he flew as fast as he could, but even he was too late. right before their very eyes, father frog leaped into the creek with pinkie whiskers on his back. the last they saw of pinkie whiskers was his feet kicking the air and his little red coat-tails flying. mother gray threw herself down on the rock and sobbed, "my dear pinkie whiskers, i will never see him again." winkle, twinkle and billy jay all cried, too, but father gray blew his nose and wiped a tear from his eye as uncle whiskers said, "that boy will come back all safe and sound." chapter xi when pinkie whiskers struck the water, he closed his mouth and his eyes tight. he did not open his eyes until he felt father frog swimming rapidly down the creek and he wondered where they were going. he kicked and kicked, but the green reed held him so fast that he could not free himself. father frog swam on and on until they came to the mouth of the creek and the creek flowed into a great, rushing river. father frog let loose of the reed and as pinkie whiskers fell off from his back, said: "now, my little rat, you must take care of yourself. i am going home to take your fish hook out of my poor little tadpole's mouth. good-bye." the water was so deep and it raced along so swiftly that pinkie whiskers was very much frightened, but suddenly a beautiful, soft voice whispered in his ear: "do not be afraid. i am the water-fairy and i will help you because my dear friend, the tree-fairy asked me to do so. she told me all about how you saved her." pinkie whiskers was so amazed and delighted that he forgot that he was in the water and started to speak. of course, the water poured into his open mouth and he began to sputter and choke. the water-fairy pushed him to the top of the water and patted him on his back until he was all right once more, then she said: "i will make it possible for you to stay down under the water and breathe and talk just like a fish and then you will never choke again." pinkie whiskers smiled his thanks and the water-fairy made some passes and, sure enough, he could breathe, talk and swim under water just like a fish. "look! look!" cried the water-fairy. "there is a ship in the distance and it is headed this way." sure enough, a beautiful, big, white ship was coming down the river. it was coming so fast now they could see men moving about on her. pinkie whiskers took out of his pocket his white handkerchief and waved it around and around his head. "ship ahoy! ship ahoy!" he shouted. "it will do you no good to signal the ship," said the water-fairy. "it would never stop to take a rat on board. oh, dear no! you will have to get on the ship without anyone seeing you." pinkie whiskers did not wait to hear any more. he swam for the passing ship. when he was even with the dragging rope he tried to catch it with his teeth, but he was not quick enough and the rope slipped out of his reach. again and again he tried and at last he made a quick jump and landed right upon the rope. he just clung to it as tight as he could with his feet and rested. chapter xii the rope was one which the sailors had put out to tell them how many miles an hour they were going. this rope had a wonderful wheel at the end of it which kept twisting and turning in the water. every now and then the rope would turn suddenly over and poor pinkie whiskers would go under the water with it and nearly fall off. at last he was rested and climbed the rope to the ship. when no one was about he jumped aboard. of course, he did not know which way to go, but there was a pleasant smell of cooking in the air and he followed this smell. he soon found himself in a big kitchen with many people hurrying about. there were cooks with white caps and aprons and waiters with white jackets. pinkie whiskers kept very close to the wall and ran until he saw a white jacket hanging on a nail. pinkie whiskers saw that the jacket had pockets, so he ran up the side of the wall and hid in one of the pockets. he had just nestled down for a little nap, for he was very tired, when along came the owner of the jacket. he took it off from the nail and put it on. pinkie whiskers, did not know what to do, but he decided to keep very still. the waiter took his tray of food and went into the dining room. pinkie whiskers peeped out of the pocket and saw many tables with people about them. pinkie whiskers' head was still out of the pocket when the waiter went up to a table to serve a lady. she saw pinkie whiskers and screamed, "a mouse! a mouse!" now, pinkie whiskers knew that he was a rat and not a mouse, so at first he did not think that she meant him, but when all of the ladies jumped up from the table and started to run, pinkie whiskers jumped from the pocket and ran too. he hid behind the leg of a big chair and did not move until he felt the ship stop and saw everyone going ashore. he started to go ashore too and as everyone had bundles and baggage, he picked up a small hand bag, an umbrella, a can and a cage filled with butterflies, grasshoppers and a lady-bug. he had only gone a short way when the door of the cage flew open and the insects flew out. "i never had so much trouble in all my life," complained pinkie whiskers. he ran after them and caught as many as he could and put them back into the cage for he wanted to take them home as presents to his dear ones. chapter xiii pinkie whiskers found it very hard to travel over the country road with all of his baggage. he caught his feet in the cage and fell over it several times. he did not know the way home and he had to ask every little wild creature that he met where the cheese factory was. at last he met billy jay, for billy jay had gone out to search for him. billy jay felt sure that pinkie whiskers was not drowned and when he met his little friend coming down the road he was not even surprised. "hello, billy jay!" shouted pinkie whiskers. "you see that i am coming home." "hello, pinkie whiskers!" cried billy jay. "i never was so glad to see anyone in my life. let me carry something for you." "all right, you may carry my handbag, if you wish," said pinkie whiskers. now that pinkie whiskers had company, it did not seem any time at all before they reached the cheese factory. pinkie whiskers opened the door and walked right in, just as the family was eating supper. mother gray screamed and ran to kiss her son. father gray, winkle, twinkle and uncle whiskers stood by and waited for their turn. "now, children, let pinkie whiskers eat his supper before you ask him any questions. the poor little fellow must be very, very hungry after his long journey." pinkie whiskers ate and ate, then he told them all about the good water-fairy, who was a friend of the tree-fairy and how she had asked the water-fairy to help him. winkle, twinkle and billy jay were so amazed by pinkie whiskers' story that they stood and stared at him with big eyes. uncle whiskers shook himself and said, "there now, mother gray, didn't i tell you not to worry about pinkie whiskers?" "and, yes," cried pinkie whiskers, "you said perhaps i might write a book and i have already started one. so you see that you are always right, uncle whiskers." the adventures of chatterer the red squirrel +---------------------------------------------------------+ | | | books by thornton w. burgess | | | | the 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 | | | | * * * * * | | | | the burgess bird book for children | | | +---------------------------------------------------------+ illustration: it seemed as if that little voice inside had fairly shouted in his ears: "i am afraid." frontispiece. _see page 118._ burgess quaddies (_trade mark_) the bedtime story-books the adventures of chatterer the red squirrel by thornton w. burgess author of "old mother west wind," "the adventures of johnny chuck," "mother west wind 'why' stories," etc. _with illustrations by harrison cady_ illustration boston little, brown, and company 1920 _copyright, 1915_ by little, brown, and company. _all rights reserved_ contents chapter page i. chatterer the red squirrel runs for his life 1 ii. chatterer's last chance 6 iii. chatterer tells sammy jay about shadow the weasel 11 iv. chatterer leaves the green forest 17 v. chatterer finds a home 23 vi. peter rabbit listens to the wrong voice 28 vii. how chatterer had fooled peter rabbit 33 viii. chatterer grows careless 38 ix. chatterer grows too curious 43 x. old mr. trouble gets chatterer at last 49 xi. what happened next to chatterer 53 xii. chatterer is sure that this is his last day 57 xiii. chatterer is put in prison 62 xiv. chatterer decides to live 68 xv. farmer brown's boy tries to make friends 73 xvi. chatterer has a pleasant surprise 78 xvii. sammy jay's sharp eyes 83 xviii. chatterer is made fun of 88 xix. peter rabbit tries to help 93 xx. chatterer has another great surprise 99 xxi. chatterer hears the small voice 104 xxii. tommy tit makes good his boast 110 xxiii. chatterer grows very, very bold 116 list of illustrations it seemed as if that little voice inside had fairly shouted in his ears, "i am afraid" _frontispiece_ "what's that?" sammy jay asked sharply 12 "have you found a new home yet?" asked peter 26 very cautiously chatterer peeped inside the hole 67 "you tell chatterer that i'll get him yet!" snarled shadow 84 "i'd be willing to try it if it was of any use. but it isn't," said prickly porky 97 the adventures of chatterer the red squirrel i chatterer the red squirrel runs for his life chatterer the red squirrel had been scolding because there was no excitement. he had even tried to make some excitement by waking bobby coon and making him so angry that bobby had threatened to eat him alive. it had been great fun to dance around and call bobby names and make fun of him. oh, yes, it had been great fun. you see, he knew all the time that bobby couldn't catch him if he should try. but now things were different. chatterer had all the excitement that he wanted. indeed, he had more than he wanted. the truth is, chatterer was running for his life, and he knew it. it is a terrible thing, a very terrible thing to have to run for one's life. peter rabbit knows all about it. he has run for his life often. sometimes it has been reddy fox behind him, sometimes bowser the hound, and once or twice old man coyote. peter has known that on his long legs his life has depended, and more than once a terrible fear has filled his heart. but peter has also known that if he could reach the old stone wall or the dear old briar-patch first, he would be safe, and he always has reached it. so when he has been running with that terrible fear in his heart, there has always been hope there, too. but chatterer the red squirrel was running without hope. yes, sir, there was nothing but fear, terrible fear, in his heart, for he knew not where to go. the hollow tree or the holes in the old stone wall where he would be safe from any one else, even farmer brown's boy, offered him no safety now, for the one who was following him with hunger in his anger-red eyes could go anywhere that he could go--could go into any hole big enough for him to squeeze into. you see, it was shadow the weasel from whom chatterer was running, and shadow is so slim that he can slip in and out of places that even chatterer cannot get through. chatterer knew all this, and so, because it was of no use to run to his usual safe hiding places, he ran in just the other direction. he didn't know where he was going. he had just one thought: to run and run as long as he could and then, well, he would try to fight, though he knew it would be of no use. "oh, dear! oh, dear!" he sobbed, as he ran out on the branch of a tree and leaped across to the next tree, "i wish i had minded my own business! i wish i had kept my tongue still. shadow the weasel wouldn't have known where i was if he hadn't heard my voice. oh, dear! oh, dear me! what can i do? what can i do?" now in his great fright chatterer had run and jumped so hard that he was beginning to grow very tired. presently he found that he must make a very long jump to reach the next tree. he had often made as long a jump as this and thought nothing of it, but now he was so tired that the distance looked twice as great as it really was. he didn't dare stop to run down the tree and scamper across. so he took a long breath, ran swiftly along the branch, and leaped. his hands just touched the tip of the nearest branch of the other tree. he tried his very best to hold on, but he couldn't. then down, down, down he fell. he spread himself out as flat as he could, and that saved him a little, but still it was a dreadful fall, and when he landed, it seemed for just a minute as if all the breath was gone from his body. but it wasn't quite, and in another minute he was scrambling up the tree. ii chatterer's last chance chatterer, still running for his life and without the least hope, suddenly saw a last chance to escape from shadow the weasel. that is, he saw something that might offer him a chance. he couldn't be sure until he had tried, and even then he might escape from one danger only to run right into another equally great. what chatterer saw was a big brown bunch near the top of a tall chestnut-tree, and he headed for that tree as fast as ever he could go. what was that big brown bunch? why it was redtail the hawk, who was dozing there with his head drawn down between his shoulders dreaming. now old redtail is one of chatterer's deadliest enemies. he is quite as fond of red squirrel as is shadow the weasel, though he doesn't often try to catch one, because there are other things to eat much easier to get. chatterer had had more than one narrow escape from old redtail and was very much afraid of him, yet here he was running up the very tree in which redtail was sitting. you see, a very daring idea had come into his head. he had seen at once that redtail was dozing and hadn't seen him at all. he knew that redtail would just as soon have shadow the weasel for dinner as himself, and a very daring plan had popped into his head. "i may as well be caught by redtail as shadow," he thought, as he ran up the tree, "but if my plan works out right, i won't be caught by either. anyway, it is my very last chance." up the tree he scrambled, and after him went shadow the weasel. shadow had been so intent on catching chatterer that he had not noticed old redtail, which was just as chatterer had hoped. up, up he scrambled, straight past old redtail, but as he passed, he pulled one of redtail's long tail feathers, and then ran on to the top of the tree, and with the last bit of strength he had left, leaped to a neighboring spruce-tree where, hidden by the thick branches, he stopped to rest and see what would happen. of course, when he felt his tail pulled, old redtail was wide awake in a flash; and of course he looked down to see who had dared to pull his tail. there just below him was shadow the weasel, who had just that minute discovered who was sitting there. old redtail hissed sharply, and the feathers on the top of his head stood up in a way they do when he is angry. and he was angry--very angry. shadow the weasel stopped short. then, like a flash, he dodged around to the other side of the tree. he had no thought of chatterer now. things were changed all in an instant, quite changed. instead of the hunter, he was now the hunted. old redtail circled in the air just overhead, and every time he caught sight of shadow, he swooped at him with great, cruel claws spread to clutch him. shadow dodged around the trunk of the tree. he was more angry than frightened, for his sharp eyes had spied a little hollow in a branch of the chestnut-tree, and he knew that once inside of that, he would have nothing to fear. but he was angry clear through to think that he should be cheated out of that dinner he had been so sure of only a few minutes before. so he screeched angrily at old redtail and then, watching his chance, scampered out to the hollow and whisked inside, just in the nick of time. chatterer, watching from the spruce-tree, gave a great sigh of relief. he saw redtail the hawk post himself on the top of a tall tree where he could keep watch of that hollow in which shadow had disappeared, and he knew that it would be a long time before shadow would dare poke even his nose outside. then, as soon as he was rested, chatterer stole softly, oh, so softly, away through the tree-tops until he was sure that redtail could not see him. then he hurried. he wanted to get just as far away from shadow the weasel as he could. iii chatterer tells sammy jay about shadow the weasel chatterer hurried through the green forest. he didn't know just where he was going. he had but one thought, and that was to get as far away from shadow the weasel as he could. it made him have cold shivers all over every time he thought of shadow. "seems to me you are in a great hurry," said a voice from a pine-tree he was passing. chatterer knew that voice without looking to see who was speaking. everybody in the green forest knows that voice. it was the voice of sammy jay. "it looks to me as if you were running away from some one," jeered sammy. chatterer wanted to stop and pick a quarrel with sammy, as he usually did when they met, but the fear of shadow the weasel was still upon him. "i--i--am," he said in a very low voice. sammy looked as if he thought he hadn't heard right. never before had he known chatterer to admit that he was afraid, for you know chatterer is a great boaster. it must be something very serious to frighten chatterer like that. "what's that?" sammy asked sharply. "i always knew you to be a coward, but this is the first time i have ever known you to admit it. who are you running away from?" illustration: "what's that?" sammy asked sharply. "shadow the weasel," replied chatterer, still in a very low voice, as if he were afraid of being overheard. "shadow the weasel is back in the green forest, and i have just had such a narrow escape!" "ho!" cried sammy, "this is important. i thought shadow was up in the old pasture. if he has come back to the green forest, folks ought to know it. where is he now?" chatterer stopped and told sammy all about his narrow escape and how he had left shadow the weasel in a hollow of a chestnut-tree with redtail the hawk watching for him to come out. sammy's eyes sparkled when chatterer told how he had pulled the tail of old redtail. "and he doesn't know now who did it; he thinks it was shadow," concluded chatterer, with a weak little grin. "ho, ho, ho! ha, ha, ha!" laughed sammy jay. "i wish i had been there to see it." then he suddenly grew grave. "other folks certainly ought to know that shadow is back in the green forest," said he, "so that they may be on their guard. then if they get caught, it is their own fault. i think i'll go spread the news." you see, for all his mean ways, sammy jay does have some good in him, just as everybody does, and he dearly loves to tell important news. "i--i wish you would go first of all and tell my cousin, happy jack the gray squirrel," said chatterer, speaking in a hesitating way. sammy jay leaned over and looked at chatterer sharply. "i thought you and happy jack were not friends," said he. "you always seem to be quarreling." chatterer looked a little confused, but he is very quick with his tongue, is chatterer. "that's just it," he replied quickly. "that's just it! if anything should happen to happy jack, i wouldn't have him to quarrel with, and it is such fun to see him get mad!" now of course the real reason why chatterer wanted happy jack warned was because down inside he was ashamed of a dreadful thought that had come to him of leading shadow the weasel to happy jack's house, so that he himself might escape. it had been a dreadful thought, a cowardly thought, and chatterer had been really ashamed that he should have ever had such a thought. he thought now that if he could do something for happy jack, he would feel better about it. sammy jay promised to go straight to happy jack and warn him that shadow the weasel was back in the green forest, and off he started, screaming the news as he flew, so that all the little people in the green forest might know. chatterer listened a few minutes and then started on. "where shall i go?" he muttered. "where shall i go? i don't dare stay in the green forest, for now shadow will never rest until he catches me." iv chatterer leaves the green forest chatterer was in a peck of trouble. yes, sir, he was in a peck of trouble. there was no doubt about it. "oh, dear! oh, dear! if only i had kept my tongue still! if only i had kept my tongue still!" he kept saying over and over to himself, as he hurried through the green forest. you see, chatterer was just beginning to realize what a lot of trouble an unruly tongue can get one into. here it was cold weather, the very edge of winter, and chatterer didn't dare stay in the green forest where he had always made his home. his storehouses were full of nuts and seeds and corn, enough and more than enough to keep him in comfort all winter, and now he must turn his back on them and go he didn't know where, and all because of his mean disposition and bad tongue. if he hadn't called bobby coon names that morning at the top of his voice, shadow the weasel might not have found him. he knew that shadow has a long memory, and that he would never forget the trick by which chatterer had escaped, and so the only way chatterer would ever be able to have a moment's peace would be to leave the green forest for as long as shadow the weasel chose to stay there. chatterer shivered inside his warm, red fur coat as he thought of the long, cold winter and how hard it would be to find enough to eat. was ever any one else in such a dreadful fix? presently he came to the edge of the green forest. he sat down to rest in the top of a tree where he could look off over the green meadows. far, far away he could see the purple hills, behind which jolly, round, red mr. sun goes to bed every night. he could see the old stone wall that separates farmer brown's cornfield from the green meadows. he could see farmer brown's house and barn and near them the old orchard where johnny chuck had spent the summer with polly chuck and their baby chucks. he knew every nook and corner in the old stone wall and many times he had been to the old orchard. it was there that he had stolen the eggs of drummer the woodpecker. he grinned at the thought of those eggs and how he had stolen them, and then he shivered as he remembered how he had finally been caught and how sharp the bills of drummer and mrs. drummer were. but all that was in the past, and thinking about it wasn't going to help him now. he had got to do something right away. perhaps he might find a place to live in the old stone wall, and there might, there just might, be enough grains of corn scattered over the ground of the cornfield for him to lay up a supply, if he worked very hard and fast. anyway, he would have a look. so he hurried down from the tree and out along the old stone wall. his spirits began to rise as he whisked along, peering into every hole and jumping from stone to stone. it really seemed as though he might find a snug home somewhere here. then he remembered something that made his heart sink again. he remembered having seen shadow the weasel more than once exploring that very wall. just as likely as not he would do it again, for it was so very near the green forest. no, the old stone wall wouldn't do. just then along came peter rabbit. peter saw right away that something was wrong with chatterer, and he wanted to know what it was. chatterer told him. he felt that he had just got to tell some one. peter looked thoughtful. he scratched his long left ear with his long right hind foot. "you know there is another old stone wall up there by the old orchard," said he. "it is pretty near farmer brown's house, and black pussy hunts there a great deal, but you ought to be smart enough to keep out of her clutches." "i should hope so!" exclaimed chatterer scornfully. "i have never seen a cat yet that i was afraid of! believe i'll go over and have a look at that old wall, peter rabbit." "i'll go with you," said peter, and off they started together. v chatterer finds a home when your plans are upset and all scattered about just make up your mind that you'll find a way out. peter rabbit went straight over to the old stone wall on the edge of the old orchard, lipperty-lipperty-lip so fast that it didn't take him long to get there. but chatterer the red squirrel never feels really safe on the ground unless there is something to climb close at hand, so he went a long way round by way of the rail fence. he always did like to run along a rail fence, and he wouldn't have minded it a bit this morning if he hadn't been in such a hurry. it seemed to him that he never would get there. but of course he did. when he did get there, he found peter rabbit sitting on johnny chuck's doorstep, staring down johnny chuck's long hall. "they're asleep," said he, as chatterer came up all out of breath. "i've thumped and thumped and thumped, but it isn't the least bit of use. they are asleep, and they'll stay asleep until mistress spring arrives. i can't understand it at all. no, sir, i can't understand how anybody can be willing to miss this splendid cold weather." peter shook his head in a puzzled way and continued to stare down the long empty hall. of course he was talking about johnny and polly chuck, who had gone to sleep for the winter. that sleeping business always puzzles peter. it seems to him like a terrible waste of time. but chatterer had too much on his mind to waste time wondering how other people could sleep all winter. he couldn't himself, and now that he had been driven away from his own home in the green forest by fear of shadow the weasel, he couldn't waste a minute. he must find a new home and then spend every minute of daytime laying up a new store of food for the days when everything would be covered with snow. up and down the length of the stone wall he scampered, looking for a place to make a home, but nothing suited him. you know he likes best to make his home in a tree. he isn't like striped chipmunk, who lives in the ground. poor chatterer! he just couldn't see how he was going to live in the old stone wall. he sat on top of a big stone to rest and think it over. he was discouraged. life didn't seem worth the living just then. he felt as if his heart had gone way down to his toes. just then his eyes saw something that made his heart come up again with a great bound right where it ought to be, and just then peter rabbit came hopping along. "have you found a new home yet?" asked peter. "yes," replied chatterer, "i think i have. "that's good," replied peter. "i was sure you would find one over here. where is it?" illustration: "have you found a new home yet?" asked peter. chatterer opened his mouth to tell peter and then closed it with a snap. he remembered just in time how hard it is for peter to keep a secret. if he should tell peter, it would be just like peter to tell some one else without meaning to, and then it might get back to shadow the weasel. "i'm not going to tell you now, peter rabbit," said he. "you see, i don't want anybody to know where it is until i am sure that it will do. but i'll tell you this much," he added, as he saw how disappointed peter looked, "i'm going to live right here." peter brightened up right away. you see, he thought that of course chatterer meant that he had found a hole in the old stone wall, and he felt very sure that he could find it by keeping watch. "that's good," he said again. "i'll come see you often. but watch out for black pussy; her claws are very sharp. now i think i'll be going back to the old briar-patch." "don't tell where i am," called chatterer. vi peter rabbit listens to the wrong voice peter rabbit didn't play fair. no, sir, peter didn't play fair. people who have too much curiosity about other people's affairs seldom do play fair. he didn't mean to be unfair. oh, my, no! peter didn't mean to be unfair. when he left chatterer the red squirrel sitting on the old stone wall on the edge of farmer brown's old orchard, he intended to go straight home to the dear old briar-patch. he was a little disappointed, was peter, that chatterer hadn't told him just where his new house was. not that it really mattered; he just wanted to know, that was all. with every jump away from the old stone wall, that desire to know just where chatterer's new house was seemed to grow. peter stopped and looked back. he couldn't see chatterer now, because the bushes hid him. and if he couldn't see chatterer, why of course chatterer couldn't see him. peter sat down and began to pull his whiskers in a way he has when he is trying to decide something. it seemed as if two little voices were quarreling inside him. "go along home like the good fellow you are and mind your own business," said one. "steal back to the old wall and watch chatterer and so find out just where his new house is; he'll never know anything about it, and there'll be no harm done," said the other little voice. it was louder than the first voice, and peter liked the sound of it. "i believe i will," said he, and without waiting to hear what the first little voice would say to that, he turned about and very carefully and softly tiptoed back to the old stone wall. right near it was a thick little bush. it seemed to peter that it must have grown there just to give him a hiding place. he crawled under it and lay very flat. he could see along the old stone wall in both directions. chatterer was sitting just where he had left him. he was looking in the direction that peter had gone when he had said good-by. peter chuckled to himself. "he's waiting to make sure i have gone before he goes to that new house of his," thought peter. "this is the time i'll fool him." "you ought to be ashamed of yourself, peter rabbit; this is none of your business," said that little small voice. "you're not doing a bit of harm. chatterer has no business to try to keep his new house a secret, anyway," said the other little voice inside. and because of his dreadful curiosity, peter liked the sound of that voice best and listened to it, and after a while the first voice grew discouraged and stopped. chatterer sat where he was for what seemed to peter a very long time. but by and by he gave a sudden funny little flirt of his tail and ran along the old wall a little way. then with a hasty look around, he disappeared in a hole. a minute later he popped his head out for another look around and then disappeared again. he did this two or three times as if anxious. peter chuckled to himself. "that's his new house right there," said he to himself, "and now that i know where it is, i think i'll hurry along home to the dear old briar-patch." he was just getting ready to start when chatterer popped out of his hole and sat up on a big stone. he was talking out loud, and peter listened. then his long ears began to burn, for this is what he heard: "i'm glad that peter's not a spy, for spies are hateful as can be; it's dreadful how some people try affairs of other folks to see." chatterer whisked out of sight, and peter hurried to get away. his ears still burned, and somehow he didn't feel so tickled over the thought that he had discovered chatterer's secret as he had thought he would. and over in the hole in the old stone wall chatterer the red squirrel was laughing as if there was some great joke. there was, and the joke was on peter rabbit. you see he hadn't discovered chatterer's new house at all. vii how chatterer had fooled peter rabbit chatterer the red squirrel is a scamp himself and not to be trusted. nobody in the green forest or on the green meadows trusts him. and people who cannot be trusted themselves never trust any one else. chatterer never does. he is always suspicious. so when peter rabbit had said good-by and started for the dear old briar-patch without knowing where chatterer's new house was, chatterer had made up his mind right away that peter would never be satisfied until he knew, or thought he knew, where that new house was. you see, he knew all about peter's dreadful curiosity. he watched peter out of sight, then he slipped down out of sight himself between the stones of the old wall. "i know what peter will do," said he to himself. "peter will come sneaking back, and hide where he can watch me, and so find out where my new house is. i'll just stay here long enough to give him a chance to hide, and then i'll fool him." you see, chatterer knew that if he had been in peter's place, he would have done just that thing. so he waited a little while and then went back to the place where peter had left him. there he sat and pretended to be looking in the direction in which peter had gone, as if to make sure that peter was really on his way home. but all the time chatterer was watching out of the corners of his eyes to see if peter was hiding anywhere near. he didn't see peter, but he didn't have the least doubt that peter was somewhere about. after a while, he ran over to a hole between the stones of the old wall and pretended to be very busy there, just as if it really were the new house he had found. he kept popping in and out and looking around as if afraid that some one was watching him. he even got some dry leaves and took them inside, as if to make a bed. all the time, although he hadn't seen a sign of peter, he didn't have the least doubt in the world that peter was watching him. when he grew tired, a new idea popped into his shrewd little head. he popped out of the hole and sat up on the wall. then he said aloud that verse which had made peter's ears burn so. he had meant to make peter's ears burn. he said that verse just as if he really did believe that peter was not spying on him and was glad of it. when he had finished, he whisked out of sight again to give peter a chance to get away. but this time chatterer did some peeking himself. he hid where peter couldn't see him, but where he himself could see both ways along the old stone wall, and so it was that he saw peter crawl out from under the little bush where he had been hiding and sneak away in the direction of the old briar-patch. and he knew that this time peter had gone for good. then chatterer laughed and laughed to think how he had fooled peter rabbit, and wished that he could pat himself on the back for being so smart. he didn't once think of how dishonest and mean it was of peter to spy on him, because, you see, he would have done the same thing himself. "one has to have one's wits very sharp these days to keep a secret," chuckled chatterer. but over in the old briar-patch that afternoon peter rabbit sat very thoughtful and very much ashamed. the thought that he had found out where chatterer's new house was didn't give him the pleasure that he had thought it would. his ears still burned, for he thought that chatterer supposed him honest when he wasn't. "i believe i'll go over to-morrow and tell chatterer all about it and how mean i have been," said he at last. and when he had made up his mind to do this, he felt better. and all the time he hadn't found chatterer's new house at all. you see, it was the old home of drummer the woodpecker in an old apple-tree which chatterer had decided to live in. viii chatterer grows careless when you grow careless even though it be in matters small, old mr. trouble you will find is bound to make a call. some people never seem to learn that. you would suppose that after all the trouble and worry chatterer the red squirrel had had, he would have learned a lesson. for a while it seemed as if he had. morning after morning, before anybody was up in farmer brown's house, he visited farmer brown's corn-crib, taking the greatest care not to be seen and to get back to his home in the old orchard before it was time for farmer brown's boy to come out and do his morning's work. and in the corn-crib he took the greatest care to steal only where what he took would not be missed. the empty cobs from which he had eaten the corn he hid in the darkest corner behind the great pile of yellow corn, where they would not be found until nearly all the corn had been taken from the crib. oh, he was very sly and crafty, was chatterer the red squirrel--at first. but after a while, when nothing happened, chatterer grew careless. at first it had seemed very dangerous to go over to the corn-crib, but after he had been there often, it didn't seem dangerous at all. once inside, he would just give himself up to having a good time. he raced about over the great pile of beautiful yellow corn and found the loveliest hiding places in it. down in a dark corner he made a splendid bed from pieces of husk which hadn't been stripped from some of the ears. it was quite the nicest place he had ever dreamed of, was farmer brown's corn-crib. he got to feeling that it was his own and not farmer brown's at all. the more that feeling grew, the more careless chatterer became. he dropped a grain of corn now and then and was too lazy to go down and pick it up, or else didn't think anything about it. farmer brown's boy, coming every morning for corn for the hens, noticed these grains, but supposed they were some that had been rubbed from the ears during the handling of them. then one morning chatterer dropped a cob from which he had eaten all the corn. he meant to get it and hide it, as he had hidden other cobs, but he didn't want to do it just then. and later--well, then he forgot all about it. yes, sir, he forgot all about it until he had reached his home in the old orchard. "oh, well," thought chatterer, "it doesn't matter. i can get it and hide it to-morrow morning." now a corn-cob is a very simple thing. farmer brown's boy knew where there was a whole pile of them. he added to that pile every day, after shelling enough corn for the biddies. so it would seem that there was nothing about a corn-cob to make him open his eyes as he did that morning, when he saw the one left by chatterer the red squirrel. but you see he knew that a bare corn-cob had no business inside the corn-crib, and suddenly those scattered grains of corn had a new meaning for him. "ha, ha!" he exclaimed, "a thief has been here, after all! i thought we were safe from rats and mice, and i don't see now how they got in, for i don't, i really don't, see how they could climb the stone legs of the corn-crib. but some one with sharp teeth certainly has been in here. it must be that i have left the door open some time, and a rat has slipped in. i'll just have to get after you, mr. rat or mr. mouse. we can't have you in our corn-crib." with that he went into the house. presently he came back, and in one hand was a rat-trap and in the other a mouse-trap. ix chatterer grows too curious everybody knows how curious peter rabbit is. he is forever poking his wobbly little nose in where it has no business to be, and as a result peter is forever getting into trouble. whenever chatterer the red squirrel has heard a new story about peter and the scrapes his curiosity has got him into, chatterer has said that peter got no more than he deserved. as for himself, he might be curious about a thing he saw for the first time, but he had too much sense to meddle with it until he knew all about it. so chatterer has come to be thought very smart, quite too smart to be caught in a trap--at least to be caught in an ordinary trap. now a great many people manage to make their neighbors think they are a great deal smarter than they really are, and chatterer is one of this kind. if some of his neighbors could have peeped into farmer brown's corn-crib the morning after farmer brown's boy found the telltale corn-cob so carelessly dropped by chatterer, they would have been surprised. yes, sir, they would have been surprised. they would have seen chatterer the red squirrel, the boaster, he of the sharp wits, showing quite as much curiosity as ever possessed peter rabbit. chatterer had come over to the corn-crib as usual to get his daily supply of corn. as usual, he had raced about over the great pile of yellow corn. quite suddenly his sharp eyes spied something that they hadn't seen before. it was down on the floor of the corn-crib quite near the door. chatterer was sure that it hadn't been there the day before. it was a very queer looking thing, very queer indeed. and then he spied another queer looking thing near it, only this was very much smaller. what could they be? he looked at them suspiciously. they looked harmless enough. they didn't move. he ran a few steps towards them and scolded, just as he scolds at anything new he finds out of doors. still they didn't move. he ran around on a little ledge where he could look right down on the queer things. he was sure now that they were not alive. the biggest one he could see all through. inside was something to eat. the littlest thing was round and flat with funny bits of wire on top. it looked as if it were made of wood, and in the sides were little round holes too small for him to put his head through. "leave them alone," said a small voice inside of chatterer. "but i want to see what they are and find out all about them," said chatterer. "no good ever comes of meddling with things you don't know about," said the small voice. "but they are such queer looking things, and they're not alive. they can't hurt me," said chatterer. nevertheless he ran back to the pile of corn and tried to eat. somehow he had lost his appetite. he couldn't take his eyes off those two queer things down on the floor. "better keep away," warned the small voice inside. "it won't do any harm to have a closer look at them," said chatterer. so once more he scrambled down from the pile of corn and little by little drew nearer to the two queer things. the nearer he got, the more harmless they looked. finally he reached out and smelled of the smallest. then he turned up his nose. "smells of mice," muttered chatterer, "just common barn mice." then he reached out a paw and touched it. "pooh!" said he, "it's nothing to be afraid of." just then he touched one of the little wires, and there was a sudden snap. it frightened chatterer so that he scurried away. but he couldn't stay away. that snap was such a funny thing, and it hadn't done any harm. you see, he hadn't put his paw in at one of the little holes, or it might have done some harm. pretty soon he was back again, meddling with those little wires on top. every once in a while there would be a snap, and he would scamper away. it was very scary and great fun. by and by the thing wouldn't snap any more, and then chatterer grew tired of his queer plaything and began to wonder about the other queer thing. no harm had come from the first one, and so he was sure no harm could come from the other. x old mr. trouble gets chatterer at last of course you have guessed what it was that chatterer had been meddling with. it was a mouse-trap, and he had sprung it without getting hurt. chatterer didn't know that it was a trap. he ought to have known, but he didn't. you see, it was not at all like the traps farmer brown's boy had sometimes set for him in the green forest. he knew all about those traps and never, never went near them. now that there was nothing more exciting about the mouse-trap, chatterer turned his attention to the other queer thing. he walked all around it and looked at it from every side. it certainly was queer. yes, sir, it certainly was queer! it looked something like a little house only he could see all through it. he put one paw out and touched it. nothing happened. he tried it again. then he jumped right on top of it. still nothing happened. he tried his sharp teeth on it, but he couldn't bite it. you see, it was made of stout wire. inside was something that looked good to eat. it smelled good, too. chatterer began to wonder what it would taste like. the more he wondered, the more he wanted to know. there must be some way of getting in, and if he could get in, of course he could get out again. he jumped down to the floor and ran all around the queer little wire house. at each end was a sort of little wire hallway. chatterer stuck his head in one. it seemed perfectly safe. he crept a little way in and then backed out in a hurry. nothing happened. he tried it again. still nothing happened. "better keep away," said a small voice down inside of him. "pooh! who's afraid!" said chatterer. "this thing can't hurt me." then he crept a little farther in. right in front of him was a little round doorway with a little wire door. chatterer pushed the little door with his nose, and it opened a teeny, weeny bit. he drew back suspiciously. then he tried it again, and this time pushed the little door a little farther open. he did this two or three times until finally he had his head quite inside, and there, right down below him, was that food he so wanted to taste. "i can hop right down and get it and then hop right up again," thought chatterer. "don't do it," said the small voice inside. "corn is plenty good enough. besides, it is time you were getting back to the old orchard." "it won't take but a minute," said chatterer, "and i really must know what that tastes like." with that he jumped down. snap! chatterer looked up. the little wire door had closed. old mr. trouble had got chatterer at last. yes, sir, he certainly had got chatterer this time. you see, he couldn't open that little wire door from the inside. he was in a trap--the wire rat-trap set by farmer brown's boy. xi what happened next to chatterer were you ever terribly, terribly frightened? that was the way chatterer felt. he was caught; there was no doubt about it! his sharp teeth were of no use at all on those hard wires. he could look out between them, but he couldn't get out. he was too frightened to think. his heart pounded against his sides until it hurt. he forgot all about that queer food he had so wanted to taste, and which was right before him now. indeed, he felt as if he never, never would want to eat again. what was going to happen to him now? what would farmer brown's boy do to him when he found him there? hark! what was that? it was a step just outside the door of the corn-crib. farmer brown's boy was coming! chatterer raced around his little wire prison and bit savagely at the hard wires. but it was of no use, no use at all. it only hurt his mouth cruelly. then the door of the corn-crib swung open, a flood of light poured in, and with it came farmer brown's boy. "hello!" exclaimed farmer brown's boy, as he caught sight of chatterer. "so you are the thief who has been stealing our corn, and i thought it was a rat or a mouse. well, well, you little red rascal, didn't you know that thieves come to no good end? you're pretty smart, for i never once thought of you, but you were not so smart as you thought. now i wonder what we had better do with you." he picked up the trap with chatterer in it and stepped out into the beautiful great out-of-doors. chatterer could see across the dooryard to the old orchard and the familiar old stone wall along which he had scampered so often. they looked just the same as ever, and yet--well, they didn't look just the same, for he couldn't look at them without seeing those cruel wires which were keeping him from them. farmer brown's boy put the trap down on the ground and then began to call. "puss, puss, puss," called farmer brown's boy. chatterer's heart, which had been thumping so, almost stopped beating with fright. there was black pussy, whom he had so often teased and made fun of. her yellow eyes had a hungry gleam as she walked around the trap and sniffed and sniffed. never had chatterer heard such a terrible sound as those hungry sniffs so close to him! black pussy tried to put a paw between the wires, and chatterer saw the great, cruel claws. but black pussy couldn't get her paw between the wires. "how would you like him for breakfast?" asked farmer brown's boy. "meow," said black pussy, arching her back and rubbing against his legs. "i suppose that means that you would like him very much," laughed farmer brown's boy. "do you think you can catch him if i let him out?" "meow," replied black pussy again, and to poor chatterer it seemed the awfullest sound he ever had heard. "well, we'll see about it by and by," said farmer brown's boy. "there's the breakfast bell, and i haven't fed the biddies yet." xii chatterer is sure that this is his last day there was no hope, not the teeniest, weeniest ray of hope in the heart of chatterer, as farmer brown's boy picked up the wire rat-trap and started for the house, black pussy, the cat, following at his heels and looking up at chatterer with cruel, hungry eyes. chatterer took a farewell look at the old orchard and way beyond it the green forest, from which he had been driven by fear of shadow the weasel. then the door of the farmhouse closed and shut it all out. if there had been any hope in chatterer's heart, the closing of that door would have shut the last bit out. but there wasn't any hope. chatterer was sure that he was to be given to black pussy for her breakfast. farmer brown's boy put the trap on a table. "what have you there?" called a great voice. it was the voice of farmer brown himself, who was eating his breakfast. "i've got the thief who has been stealing our corn in the crib," replied farmer brown's boy, "and who do you think it is?" "one of those pesky rats," replied farmer brown. "i'm afraid you've been careless and left the door open some time, and that is how the rats have got in there." "but it isn't a rat, and i don't believe that there is a rat there," replied farmer brown's boy in triumph. "it's that little scamp of a red squirrel we've seen racing along the wall at the edge of the old orchard lately. i can't imagine how he got in there, but there he was, and now here he is." "what are you going to do with him?" asked farmer brown, coming over to look at chatterer. "i don't know," replied farmer brown's boy, "unless i give him to black puss for her breakfast. she has been teasing me for him ever since i found him." farmer brown's boy looked over to the other side of the table as he said this, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "oh, you mustn't do that! that would be cruel!" cried a soft voice. "you must take him down to the green forest and let him go." a gentle face with pitying eyes was bent above the trap. "just see how frightened the poor little thing is! you must take him straight down to the green forest right after breakfast." "isn't that just like mother?" cried farmer brown's boy. "i believe it would be just the same with the ugliest old rat that ever lived. she would try to think of some excuse for letting it go." "god made all the little people who wear fur, and they must have some place in his great plan," said mrs. brown. farmer brown laughed a big, hearty laugh. "true enough, mother!" said he. "the trouble is, they get out of place. now this little rascal's place is down in the green forest and not up in our corn-crib." "then put him back in his right place!" was the prompt reply, and they all laughed. now all this time poor chatterer was thinking that this surely was his last day. you see, he knew that he had been a thief, and he knew that farmer brown's boy knew it. he just crouched down in a little ball, too miserable to do anything but tremble every time any one came near. he was sure that he had seen for the last time the green forest and the green meadows and jolly mr. sun and all the other beautiful things he loved so, and it seemed as if his heart would burst with despair. xiii chatterer is put in prison who ever does a deed that's wrong will surely find some day that for that naughty act of his he'll surely have to pay. that was the way with chatterer. of course he had had no business to steal corn from farmer brown's corn-crib. to be sure he had felt that he had just as much right to that corn as farmer brown had. you see, the little people of the green meadows and the green forest feel that everything that grows belongs to them, if they want it and are smart enough to get it before some one else does. but it is just there that chatterer went wrong. farmer brown had harvested that corn and stored it in his corn-crib, and so, of course, no one else had any right to it. right down deep in his heart chatterer knew this. if he hadn't known it, he wouldn't have been so sly in taking what he wanted. he knew all the time that he was stealing, but he tried to make himself believe that it was all right. so he had kept on stealing and stealing until at last he was caught in a trap, and now he had got to pay for his wrong-doing. chatterer was very miserable, so miserable and frightened that he could do nothing but sit huddled up in a little shivery ball. he hadn't the least doubt in the world that this was his very last day, and that farmer brown's boy would turn him over to cruel black pussy for her breakfast. farmer brown's boy had left him in the trap in the house and had gone out. for a long time chatterer could hear pounding out in the woodshed, and farmer brown's boy was whistling as he pounded. chatterer wondered how he could whistle and seem so happy when he meant to do such a dreadful thing as to give him to black pussy. after what seemed a very long time, ages and ages, farmer brown's boy came back. he had with him a queer looking box. "there," said he, "is a new home for you, you little red imp! i guess it will keep you out of trouble for a while." he slid back a little door in the top of the box, and then, putting on a stout glove and opening a little door in the trap, he put in his big hand and closed it around chatterer. poor little chatterer! he was sure now that this was the end, and that he was to be given to black pussy, who was looking on with hungry, yellow eyes. he struggled and did his best to bite, but the thick glove gave his sharp little teeth no chance to hurt the hand that held him. even in his terror, he noticed that that big hand tried to be gentle and squeezed him no tighter than was necessary. then he was lifted out of the trap and dropped through the little doorway in the top of the queer box, and the door was fastened. nothing terrible had happened, after all. at first, chatterer just sulked in one corner. he still felt sure that something terrible was going to happen. farmer brown's boy took the box out into the shed and put it where the sun shone into it. for a little while he stayed watching, but chatterer still sulked and sulked. by and by he went away, taking black pussy with him, and chatterer was alone. when he was quite sure that no one was about, chatterer began to wonder what sort of a place he was in, and if there wasn't some way to get out. he found that one side and the top were of fine, stout wire, through which he could look out, and that the other sides and the bottom were of wood covered with wire, so that there was no chance for his sharp teeth to gnaw a way out. in one corner was a stout piece of an apple-tree, with two little stubby branches to sit on, and half way up a little round hole. very cautiously chatterer peeped inside the hole. inside was a splendid hollow. on the floor of the box was a little heap of shavings and bits of rag. and there was a little pile of yellow corn. how chatterer did hate the sight of that corn! you see, it was corn that had got him into all this trouble. at least, that is the way chatterer felt about it. when he had examined everything, he knew that there was no way out. chatterer was in a prison, though that is not what farmer brown's boy called it. he said it was a cage. illustration: very cautiously chatterer peeped inside the hole. xiv chatterer decides to live at first chatterer decided that he had rather die than live in a prison, no matter how nice that prison might be. it was a very foolish thing to do, but he made up his mind that he just wouldn't eat. he wouldn't touch that nice, yellow corn farmer brown's boy had put in his prison for him. he would starve himself to death. yes, sir, he would starve himself to death. so when he found that there was no way to get out of his prison, he curled up in the little hollow stump in his prison, where no one could see him, and made up his mind that he would stay there until he died. life wasn't worth living if he had got to spend all the rest of his days in a prison. he wouldn't even make himself comfortable. there was that little heap of nice shavings and bits of rag for him to make a nice comfortable bed of, but he didn't touch them. no, sir, he just tried to make himself miserable. not once that long day did he poke so much as the tip of his nose out of his little round doorway. ever so many times farmer brown's boy came to see him, and whistled and called softly to him. but chatterer didn't make a sound. at last night came, and the woodshed where his prison was grew dark and darker and very still. now it was about this time that chatterer's stomach began to make itself felt. chatterer tried not to notice it, but his stomach would be noticed, and chatterer couldn't help himself. his stomach was empty, and it kept telling him so. "i'm going to starve to death," said chatterer to himself over and over. "i'm empty, and there is plenty of food to fill me up, if you'll only stop being silly," whispered his stomach. the more chatterer tried not to think of how good something to eat would taste, the more he did think of it. it made him restless and uneasy. he twisted and squirmed and turned. at last he decided that he would have one more look to see if he couldn't find some way to get out of his prison. he poked his head out of the little round doorway. all was still and dark. he listened, but not a sound could he hear. then he softly crept out and hurriedly examined all the inside of his prison once more. it was of no use! there wasn't a single place where he could use his sharp teeth. "there's that little pile of corn waiting for me," whispered his stomach. "i'll never touch it!" said chatterer fiercely. just then he hit something with his foot, and it rolled. he picked it up and then put it down again. it was a nut, a plump hickory nut. two or three times he picked it up and put it down, and each time it was harder than before to put it down. "i--i--i'd like to taste one more nut before i starve to death," muttered chatterer, and almost without knowing it, he began to gnaw the hard shell. when that nut was finished, he found another; and when that was gone, still another. then he just had to taste a grain of corn. the first thing chatterer knew, the nuts and the corn were all gone, and his stomach was full. somehow he felt ever so much better. he didn't feel like starving to death now. "i--i believe i'll wait a bit and see what happens," said he to himself, "and while i'm waiting, i may as well be comfortable." with that he began to carry the shavings and rags into the hollow stump and soon had as comfortable a bed as ever he had slept on. chatterer had decided to live. xv farmer brown's boy tries to make friends nobody lives who's wholly bad; some good you'll find in every heart. your enemies will be your friends. if only you will do your part. all his life chatterer the red squirrel had looked on farmer brown's boy as his enemy, just as did all the other little people of the green meadows, the green forest, and the smiling pool. they feared him, and because they feared him, they hated him. so whenever he came near, they ran away. now at first, farmer brown's boy used to run after them for just one thing--because he wanted to make friends with them, and he couldn't see how ever he was going to do it unless he caught them. after a while, when he found that he couldn't catch them by running after them, he made up his mind that they didn't want to be his friends, and so then he began to hunt them, because he thought it was fun to try to outwit them. of course, when he began to do that, they hated him and feared him all the more. you see, they didn't understand that really he had one of the kindest hearts in the world; and he didn't understand that they hated him just because they didn't know him. so when chatterer had been caught in the trap in farmer brown's corn-crib, he hadn't doubted in the least that farmer brown's boy would give him to black pussy or do something equally cruel; and even when he found that he was only to be kept a prisoner in a very comfortable prison, with plenty to eat and drink, he wasn't willing to believe any good of farmer brown's boy. indeed, he hated him more than ever, if that were possible. but farmer brown's boy was very patient. he came to chatterer's prison ever so many times a day and whistled and clucked and talked to chatterer. and he brought good things to eat. it seemed as if he were all the time trying to think of some new treat for chatterer. he never came without bringing something. at first, chatterer would hide in his hollow stump as soon as he saw farmer brown's boy coming and wouldn't so much as peek out until he had gone away. when he was sure that the way was clear, he would come out again, and always he found some delicious fat nuts or some other dainty waiting for him. after a little, as soon as he saw farmer brown's boy coming, chatterer would begin to wonder what good thing he had brought this time, and would grow terribly impatient for farmer brown's boy to go away so that he could find out. by and by it got so that he couldn't wait, but would slyly peep out of his little, round doorway to see what had been brought for him. then one day farmer brown's boy didn't come at all. chatterer tried to make himself believe that he was glad. he told himself that he hated farmer brown's boy, and he hoped that he never, never would see him again. but all the time he knew that it wasn't true. it was the longest day since chatterer had been a prisoner. early the next morning, before chatterer was out of bed, he heard a step in the woodshed, and before he thought what he was doing, he was out of his hollow stump to see if it really was farmer brown's boy. it was, and he had three great fat nuts which he dropped into chatterer's cage. it seemed to chatterer that he just couldn't wait for farmer brown's boy to go away. finally he darted forward and seized one. then he scampered to the shelter of his hollow stump to eat it. when it was finished, he just had to have another. farmer brown's boy was still watching, but somehow chatterer didn't feel so much afraid. this time he sat up on one of the little branches of the stump and ate it in plain sight. farmer brown's boy smiled, and it was a pleasant smile. "i believe we shall be friends, after all," said he. xvi chatterer has a pleasant surprise chatterer the red squirrel, the mischief maker of the green forest, had never been more comfortable in his life. no matter how rough brother north wind roared across the green meadows and through the green forest, piling the snow in great drifts, he couldn't send so much as one tiny shiver through the little red coat of chatterer. and always right at hand was plenty to eat--corn and nuts and other good things such as chatterer loves. no, he never had been so comfortable in all his life. but he wasn't happy, not truly happy. you see, he was in prison, and no matter how nice a prison may be, no one can be truly happy there. since he had been a prisoner, chatterer had learned to think very differently of farmer brown's boy from what he used to think. in fact, he and farmer brown's boy had become very good friends, for farmer brown's boy was always very gentle, and always brought him something good to eat. "he isn't at all like what i had thought," said chatterer, "and if i were free, i wouldn't be afraid of him at all. i--i'd like to tell some of the other little green forest people about him. if only--" chatterer didn't finish. instead a great lump filled his throat. you see, he was thinking of the green forest and the old orchard, and how he used to race through the tree-tops and along the stone wall. half the fun in life had been in running and jumping, and now there wasn't room in this little prison to stretch his legs. if only he could run--run as hard as ever he knew how--once in a while, he felt that his prison wouldn't be quite so hard to put up with. that very afternoon, while chatterer was taking a nap in his bed in the hollow stump, something was slipped over his little round doorway, and chatterer awoke in a terrible fright to find himself a prisoner inside his hollow stump. there was nothing he could do about it but just lie there in his bed, and shake with fright, and wonder what dreadful thing was going to happen next. he could hear farmer brown's boy very busy about something in his cage. after a long, long time, his little round doorway let in the light once more. the door had been opened. at first chatterer didn't dare go out, but he heard the soft little whistle with which farmer brown's boy always called him when he had something especially nice for him to eat, so at last he peeped out. there on the floor of the cage were some of the nicest nuts. chatterer came out at once. then his sharp eyes discovered something else. it was a queer looking thing made of wire at one end of his cage. chatterer looked at it with great suspicion. could it be a new kind of trap? but what would a trap be doing there, when he was already a prisoner? he ate all the nuts, all the time watching this new, queer looking thing. it seemed harmless enough. he went a little nearer. finally he hopped into it. it moved. of course that frightened him, and he started to run up. but he didn't go up. no, sir, he didn't go up. you see, he was in a wire wheel; and as he ran, the wheel went around. chatterer was terribly frightened, and the faster he tried to run, the faster the wheel went around. finally he had to stop, because he was out of breath and too tired to run another step. when he stopped, the wheel stopped. little by little, chatterer began to understand. farmer brown's boy had made that wheel to give him a chance to run all he wanted to and whenever he wanted to. when he understood this, chatterer was as nearly happy as he could be in a prison. it was such a pleasant surprise! he would race and race in it until he just had to stop for breath. farmer brown's boy looked on and laughed to see how much happier he had made chatterer. xvii sammy jay's sharp eyes everybody knows that sammy jay has sharp eyes. in fact, there are very few of the little forest people whose eyes are as sharp as sammy's. that is because he uses them so much. a long time ago he found out that the more he used his eyes, the sharper they became, and so there are very few minutes when sammy is awake that he isn't trying to see something. he is always looking. that is the reason he always knows so much about what is going on in the green forest and on the green meadows. now of course chatterer the red squirrel couldn't disappear without being missed, particularly by sammy jay. and of course sammy couldn't miss chatterer and not wonder what had become of him. at first, sammy thought that chatterer was hiding, but after peeking and peering and watching in the old orchard for a few days, he was forced to think that either chatterer had once more moved or else that something had happened to him. "perhaps shadow the weasel has caught him, after all," thought sammy, and straightway flew to a certain place in the green forest where he might find shadow the weasel. sure enough, shadow was there. now of course it wouldn't do to ask right out if shadow had caught chatterer, and sammy was smart enough to know it. illustration: "you tell chatterer that i'll get him yet!" snarled shadow. "chatterer the red squirrel sends his respects and hopes you are enjoying your hunt for him," called sammy. shadow looked up at sammy, and anger blazed in his little, red eyes. "you tell chatterer that i'll get him yet!" snarled shadow. sammy's eyes sparkled with mischief. he had made shadow angry, and he had found out what he wanted to know. he was sure that shadow had not caught chatterer. "but what can have become of him?" thought sammy. "i've got no love for him, but just the same i miss him. i really must find out. yes, sir, i really must." so every minute that he could spare, sammy jay spent trying to find chatterer. he asked every one he met if they had seen chatterer. he peeked and peered into every hollow and hiding place he could think of. but look as he would and ask as he would, he could find no trace of chatterer. at last he happened to think of farmer brown's corn-crib. could it be that chatterer had moved over there or had come to some dreadful end there? very early the next morning, sammy flew over to the corn-crib. he looked it all over with his sharp eyes and listened for sounds of chatterer inside. but not a sound could he hear. then he remembered the hole under the edge of the roof through which chatterer used to go in and out. sammy hurried to look at it. it was closed by a stout board nailed across it. then sammy knew that farmer brown's boy had found it. "he's killed chatterer, that's what he's done!" cried sammy, and flew over to the old orchard filled with sad thoughts. he meant to wait until farmer brown's boy came out and then tell him what he thought of him. after that, he would fly through the green forest and over the green meadows to spread the sad news. after a while, the door of the farmhouse opened, and farmer brown's boy stepped out. sammy had his mouth open to scream, when his sharp eyes saw something queer. farmer brown's boy had a queer looking box in his arms which he put on a shelf where the sun would shine on it. it looked to sammy as if something moved inside that box. he forgot to scream and say the bad things he had planned to say. he waited until farmer brown's boy had gone to the barn. then sammy flew where he could look right into the queer box. there was chatterer the red squirrel! xviii chatterer is made fun of "ha, ha, ha! ho, ho, ho! smarty caught at last!" sammy jay fairly shrieked with glee, as he peered down from the top of an apple-tree at chatterer, in the cage farmer brown's boy had made for him. sammy was so relieved to think that chatterer was not dead, and he was so tickled to think that chatterer, who always thought himself so smart, should have been caught, that he just had to torment chatterer by laughing at him and saying mean things to him, until chatterer lost his temper and said things back quite in the old way. this tickled sammy more than ever, for it sounded so exactly like chatterer when he had been a free little imp of mischief in the green forest, that sammy felt sure that chatterer had nothing the matter with him. but he couldn't stop very long to make fun of poor chatterer. in the first place farmer brown's boy had put his head out the barn door to see what all the fuss was about. in the second place, sammy fairly ached all over to spread the news through the green forest and over the green meadows. you know he is a great gossip. and this was such unusual news. sammy knew very well that no one would believe him. he knew that they just couldn't believe that smart mr. chatterer had really been caught. and no one did believe it. "all right," sammy would reply. "it doesn't make the least bit of difference in the world to me whether you believe it or not. you can go up to farmer brown's house and see him in prison yourself, just as i did." so late that afternoon, when all was quiet around the farmyard, chatterer saw something very familiar behind the old stone wall at the edge of the old orchard. it bobbed up and then dropped out of sight again. then it bobbed up again, only to drop out of sight just as quickly. "it looks to me very much as if peter rabbit is over there and feeling very nervous," said chatterer to himself, and then he called sharply, just as when he was free in the green forest. right away peter's head bobbed up for all the world like a jack-in-the-box, and this time it stayed up. peter's eyes were round with surprise, as he stared across at chatterer's prison. "oh, it's true!" gasped peter, as if it were as hard work to believe his own eyes as it was to believe sammy jay. "i must go right away and see what can be done to get chatterer out of trouble." and then, because it was broad daylight, and he really didn't dare stay another minute, peter waved good-by to chatterer and started for the green forest as fast as his long legs could take him. a little later who should appear peeping over the stone wall but reddy fox. it seemed very bold of reddy, but really it wasn't nearly as bold as it seemed. you see, reddy knew that farmer brown's boy and bowser the hound were over in the old pasture, and that he had nothing to fear. he grinned at chatterer in the most provoking way. it made chatterer angry just to see him. "smarty, smarty, mr. smarty, glad to see you looking hearty! weather's fine, as you can see; won't you take a walk with me?" so said reddy fox, knowing all the time that chatterer couldn't take a walk with any one. at first chatterer scolded and called reddy all the bad names he could think of, but after a little he didn't feel so much like scolding. in fact, he didn't half hear the mean things reddy fox said to him. you see, it was coming over him more and more that nothing could take the place of freedom. he had a comfortable home, plenty to eat, and was safe from every harm, but he was a prisoner, and having these visitors made him realize it more than ever. something very like tears filled his eyes, and he crept into his hollow stump where he couldn't see or be seen. xix peter rabbit tries to help peter rabbit is one of the kindest hearted little people of the green forest or the green meadows. he is happy-go-lucky, and his dreadful curiosity is forever getting him into all kinds of trouble. perhaps it is because he has been in so many scrapes himself that he always feels sorry for others who get into trouble. anyway, no sooner does peter hear of some one in trouble, than he begins to wonder how he can help them. so just as soon as he found out for himself that sammy jay had told the truth about chatterer the red squirrel, and that chatterer really was in a prison at farmer brown's house, he began to think and think to find some way to help chatterer. now of course peter didn't know what kind of a prison chatterer was in. he remembered right away how prickly porky the porcupine had gnawed a great hole in the box in which johnny chuck's lost baby was kept by farmer brown's boy. why shouldn't prickly porky do as much for chatterer? he would go see him at once. the trouble with peter is that he doesn't think of all sides of a question. he is impulsive. that is, he goes right ahead and does the thing that comes into his head first, and sometimes this isn't the wisest or best thing to do. so now he scampered down into the green forest as fast as his long legs would carry him, to hunt for prickly porky. it was no trouble at all to find him, for he had only to follow the line of trees that had been stripped of their bark. "good afternoon, prickly porky. have you heard the news about chatterer?" said peter, talking very fast, for he was quite out of breath. "yes," replied prickly porky. "serves him right. i hope it will teach him a lesson." peter's heart sank. "don't you think it is dreadful?" he asked. "just think, he will never, never be able to run and play in the green forest again, unless we can get him out." "so much the better," grunted prickly porky. "so much the better. he always was a nuisance. never did see such a fellow for making trouble for other people. no, sir, i never did. the rest of us can have some peace now. serves him right." prickly porky went on chewing bark as if chatterer's trouble was no concern of his. peter's heart sank lower still. he scratched one long ear slowly with a long hind foot, which is a way he has when he is thinking very hard. he was so busy thinking that he didn't see the twinkle in the dull little eyes of prickly porky, who really was not so hard-hearted as his words sounded. after a long time, during which peter thought and thought, and prickly porky ate and ate, the latter spoke again. "what have you got on your mind, peter?" he asked. "i--i was just thinking how perfectly splendid it would be if you would go up there and gnaw a way out of his prison for chatterer," replied peter timidly. "huh!" grunted prickly porky. "huh! some folks think my wits are pretty slow, but even i know better than that. put on your thinking cap again, peter rabbit." "why can't you? you are not afraid of bowser the hound or farmer brown's boy, and everybody else is, excepting jimmy skunk," persisted peter. "for the very good reason that if i could gnaw into his prison, chatterer could gnaw out. if he can't gnaw his way out with those sharp teeth of his, i certainly can't gnaw in. where's your common sense, peter rabbit?" "that's so. i hadn't thought of that," replied peter slowly and sorrowfully. "i must try to think of some other way to help chatterer." "i'd be willing to try if it was of any use. but it isn't," said prickly porky, who didn't want peter to think that he really was as hard-hearted as he had seemed at first. illustration: "i'd be willing to try it if it was of any use. but it isn't," said prickly porky. so peter bade prickly porky good-by and started for the dear old briar-patch to try to think of some other way to help chatterer. on the way he waked up unc' billy possum and bobby coon, but they couldn't give him any help. "there really doesn't seem to be any way i can help," sighed peter. and there really wasn't. xx chatterer has another great surprise chatterer had never had so many surprises--good surprises--in all his life, as since the day he had been caught in a trap in farmer brown's corn-crib. in the first place, it had been a great surprise to him that he had not been given to black pussy, as he had fully expected to be. then had come the even greater surprise of finding that farmer brown's boy was ever and ever so much nicer than he had thought. a later surprise had been the wire wheel in his cage, so that he could run to his heart's content. it was such a pleasant and wholly unexpected surprise that it had quite changed chatterer's feelings towards farmer brown's boy. the fact is, chatterer could have been truly happy but for one thing--he was a prisoner. yes, sir, he was a prisoner, and he couldn't forget it for one minute while he was awake. he used to watch farmer brown's boy and wish with all his might that he could make him understand how dreadful it was to be in a prison. but farmer brown's boy couldn't understand what chatterer said, no matter how hard chatterer tried to make him. he seemed to think that chatterer was happy. he just didn't understand that not all the good things in the world could make up for loss of freedom--that it is better to be free, though hungry and cold, than in a prison with every comfort. chatterer had stood it pretty well and made the best of things until sammy jay had found him, and reddy fox had made fun of him, and peter rabbit had peeped at him from behind the old stone wall. the very sight of them going where they pleased and when they pleased had been too much for chatterer, and such a great longing for the green forest and the old orchard filled his heart that he could think of nothing else. he just sat in a corner of his cage and looked as miserable as he felt. he lost his appetite. in vain farmer brown's boy brought him the fattest nuts and other dainties. he couldn't eat for the great longing for freedom that filled his heart until it seemed ready to burst. he no longer cared to run in the new wire wheel which had given him so much pleasure at first. he was homesick, terribly homesick, and he just couldn't help it. farmer brown's boy noticed it, and his face grew sober and thoughtful. he watched chatterer when the latter didn't know that he was about, and if he couldn't understand chatterer's talk, he could understand chatterer's actions. he knew that he was unhappy and guessed why. one morning chatterer did not come out of his hollow stump as he usually did when his cage was placed on the shelf outside the farmhouse door. he just didn't feel like it. he stayed curled up in his bed for a long, long time, too sad and miserable to move. at last he crawled up and peeped out of his little round doorway. chatterer gave a little gasp and rubbed his eyes. was he dreaming? he scrambled out in a hurry and peeped through the wires of his cage. then he rubbed his eyes again and rushed over to the other side of the cage for another look. his cage wasn't on the usual shelf at all! it was on the snow-covered stone wall at the edge of the old orchard. chatterer was so excited he didn't know what to do. he raced around the cage. then he jumped into the wire wheel and made it spin round and round as never before. when he was too tired to run any more, he jumped out. and right then he discovered something he hadn't noticed before. the little door in the top of his cage was open! it must be that farmer brown's boy had forgotten to close it when he put in chatterer's breakfast. chatterer forgot that he was tired. like a little red flash he was outside and whisking along the snow-covered stone wall straight for his home in the old orchard. "chickaree! chickaree! chickaree!" he shouted as he ran. xxi chatterer hears the small voice the very first of the little meadow and forest people to see chatterer after he had safely reached the old orchard, was tommy tit the chickadee. it just happened that tommy was very busy in the very apple-tree in which was the old home of drummer the woodpecker when chatterer reached it. you know chatterer had moved into it for the winter just a little while before he had been caught in the corn-crib by farmer brown's boy. yes, sir, tommy was very busy, indeed. he was so busy that, sharp as his bright little eyes are, he had not seen chatterer racing along the snow-covered old stone wall. it wasn't until he heard chatterer's claws on the trunk of the apple-tree that tommy saw him at all. then he was so surprised that he lost his balance and almost turned a somersault in the air before he caught another twig. you see, he knew all about chatterer and how he had been kept a prisoner by farmer brown's boy. "why! whye-e! is this really you, chatterer?" he exclaimed. "however did you get out of your prison? i'm glad, ever and ever so glad, that you got away." chatterer flirted his tail in the saucy way he has, and his eyes twinkled. here was just the best chance ever to boast and brag. he could tell tommy tit how smart he had been--smart enough to get away from farmer brown's boy. tommy tit would tell the other little people, and then everybody would think him just as smart as unc' billy possum; and you know unc' billy really was smart enough to get away from farmer brown's boy after being caught. everybody knew that he had been a prisoner, and now that he was free, everybody would believe whatever he told them about how he got away. was there ever such a chance to make his friends and neighbors say: "what a smart fellow he is!" "i--i--" chatterer stopped. then he began again. "you see, it was this way: i--i--" somehow, chatterer couldn't say what he had meant to say. it seemed as if tommy tit's bright, merry eyes were looking right into his head and heart and could see his very thoughts. of course they couldn't. the truth is that little small voice inside, which chatterer had so often refused to listen to when he was tempted to do wrong, was talking again. it was saying: "for shame, chatterer! for shame! tell the truth. tell the truth." it was that little small voice that made chatterer hesitate and stop. "you don't mean to say that you were smart enough to fool farmer brown's boy and get out of that stout little prison he made for you, do you?" asked tommy tit. "no," replied chatterer, almost before he thought. "no, i didn't. the fact is, tommy tit, he left the door open purposely. he let me go. farmer brown's boy isn't half so bad as some people think." "dee, dee, dee," laughed tommy tit. "i've been telling a lot of you fellows that for a long time, but none of you would believe me. now i guess you know it. why, i'm not the least bit afraid of farmer brown's boy--not the least little bit in the world. if all the little forest and meadow people would only trust him, instead of running away from him, he would be the very best friend we have." "perhaps so," replied chatterer doubtfully. "he was very good to me while i was in his prison, and--and i'm not so very much afraid of him now. just the same, i don't mean to let him get hands on me again." "pooh!" said tommy tit. "pooh! i'd just as soon eat out of his hand." "that's all very well for you to say, when you are flying around free, but i don't believe you dare go up to his house and prove it," retorted chatterer. "can't now," replied tommy. "i've got too much to do for him right now, but some day i'll show you. dee, dee, dee, chickadee! i'm wasting my time talking when there is such a lot to be done. i am clearing his apple-trees of insect eggs." "ha, ha, ha! go it, you little red scamp!" shouted a voice behind him. then chatterer knew that farmer brown's boy had not left the little door open by mistake, but had given him his freedom, and right then he knew that they were going to be the best of friends. xxii tommy tit makes good his boast "dee, dee, dee, chickadee! see me! see me!" tommy tit the chickadee kept saying this over and over, as he flew from the green forest up through the old orchard on his way to farmer brown's dooryard, and his voice was merry. in fact, his voice was the merriest, cheeriest sound to be heard that bright, snapping, cold morning. to be sure there were other voices, but they were not merry, nor were they cheery. there was the voice of sammy jay, but it sounded peevish and discontented. and there was the voice of blacky the crow, but it sounded harsh and unpleasant. and there was the voice of chatterer the red squirrel, but chatterer was scolding just from habit, and his voice was not pleasant to hear. so every one who heard tommy tit's cheery voice that cold winter morning just had to smile. yes, sir, they just had to smile, even sammy jay and blacky the crow. they just couldn't help themselves. when tommy reached the stone wall that separated the old orchard from farmer brown's dooryard, his sharp eyes were not long in finding peter rabbit, and happy jack the gray squirrel, and chatterer hiding in the old wall where they could peep out and see all that happened in farmer brown's dooryard. looking back through the old orchard, he saw what looked like a little bit of the blue, blue sky flitting silently from tree to tree. it was sammy jay. over in the very top of a tall maple-tree, a long way off, was a spot of black. tommy didn't need to be told that it was blacky the crow, who didn't dare come any nearer. tommy fairly bubbled over with joy. he knew what it all meant. he knew that peter rabbit and happy jack and chatterer and sammy jay and blacky the crow had come to see him make good his boast to chatterer that he would eat from the hand of farmer brown's boy, and that not one of them really believed that he would do it. he tickled all over and cut up all sorts of capers, just for pure joy. finally he flew over to the maple-tree that grows close by farmer brown's house. "dee, dee, dee, chickadee! see me! see me!" called tommy tit, and his voice sounded cheerier than ever and merrier than ever. then the door of farmer brown's house opened, and out stepped farmer brown's boy and looked up at tommy tit, and the look in his eyes was gentle and good to see. he pursed up his lips, and from them came the softest, sweetest whistle, and it sounded like "phoe-be." peter rabbit pinched himself to be sure that he was awake, for it was tommy tit's own love note, and if peter had not been looking straight at farmer brown's boy, he would have been sure that it was tommy himself who had whistled. "phoe-be," whistled farmer brown's boy again. "phoe-be," replied tommy tit, and it was hard to say which whistle was the softest and sweetest. "phoe-be," whistled farmer brown's boy once more and held out his hand. in it was a cracked hickory nut. "dee, dee, dee! see me! see me!" cried tommy tit and flitted down from the maple-tree right on to the hand of farmer brown's boy, and his bright little eyes twinkled merrily as he helped himself to a bit of nut meat. peter rabbit looked at happy jack, and happy jack looked at chatterer, and all three acted as if they couldn't believe their own eyes. then they looked back at farmer brown's boy, and there on his head sat tommy tit. "dee, dee, dee, chickadee! see me! see me!" called tommy tit, and his voice was merrier than ever, for he had made good his boast. xxiii chatterer grows very, very bold "i'm not afraid. i am afraid. i'm not afraid. i am afraid. i'm not afraid." chatterer kept saying these two things over and over and over again to himself. you see, he really was afraid, and he was trying to make himself believe that he wasn't afraid. he thought that perhaps if he said ever and ever so many times that he wasn't afraid, he might actually make himself believe it. the trouble was that every time he said it, a little voice, a little, truthful voice down inside, seemed to speak right up and tell him that he was afraid. poor chatterer! it hurt his pride to have to own to himself that he wasn't as brave as little tommy tit the chickadee. his common sense told him that there was no reason in the world why he shouldn't be. tommy tit went every day and took food from the hand of farmer brown's boy. it seemed to chatterer, and to happy jack the gray squirrel, and to peter rabbit, and to sammy jay, and to blacky the crow, all of whom had seen him do it, as if it were the very bravest thing they ever had seen, and their respect for tommy tit grew wonderfully. but tommy tit himself didn't think it brave at all. no, sir, tommy knew better. you see, he has a great deal of common sense under the little black cap he wears. "it may have been brave of me to do it the first time," thought he to himself, when the others told him how brave they thought him, "but it isn't brave of me now, because i know that no harm is going to come to me from farmer brown's boy. there isn't any bravery about it, and it might be just the same way with chatterer and all the other little forest and meadow people, if only they would think so, and give farmer brown's boy half a chance." chatterer was beginning to have some such thoughts himself, as he tried to make himself think that he wasn't afraid. he heard the door of farmer brown's house slam and peeped out from the old stone wall. there was farmer brown's boy with a big, fat hickory nut held out in the most tempting way, and farmer brown's boy was whistling the same gentle little whistle he had used when chatterer was his prisoner, and he had brought good things for chatterer to eat. of course chatterer knew perfectly well that that whistle was a call for him, and that that big fat hickory nut was intended for him. almost before he thought, he had left the old stone wall and was half way over to farmer brown's boy. then he stopped short. it seemed as if that little voice inside had fairly shouted in his ears: "i am afraid." it was true; he was afraid. he was right on the very point of turning to scurry back to the old stone wall, when he heard another voice. this time it wasn't a voice inside. no, indeed! it was a voice from the top of one of the apple-trees in the old orchard, and this is what it said: "coward! coward! coward!" it was sammy jay speaking. now it is one thing to tell yourself that you are afraid, and it is quite another thing to be told by some one else that you are afraid. "no such thing! no such thing! i'm not afraid!" scolded chatterer, and then to prove it, he suddenly raced forward, snatched the fat hickory nut from the hand of farmer brown's boy, and was back in the old stone wall. it was hard to tell which was the most surprised--chatterer himself, farmer brown's boy, or sammy jay. "i did it! i did it! i did it!" boasted chatterer. "you don't dare do it again, though!" said sammy jay, in the most provoking and unpleasant way. "i do too!" snapped chatterer, and he did it. and with the taking of that second fat nut from the hand of farmer brown's boy, the very last bit of fear of him left chatterer, and he knew that tommy tit the chickadee had been right all the time when he insisted that there was nothing to fear from farmer brown's boy. "why," thought chatterer, "if i would have let him, he would have been my friend long ago!" and so he would have. and this is all about chatterer the red squirrel for now. sammy jay insists that it is his turn now, and so the next book will be about his adventures. the end little jack rabbit and the squirrel brothers little jack rabbit books (trademark registered) by david cory * * * * * little jack rabbit's adventures le jack rabbit and danny fox little jack rabbit and the squirrel brothers little jack rabbit and chippy chipmunk little jack rabbit and the big brown bear [illustration: professor crow took hold of featherhead's ear. _frontispiece_--(_page_ 14)] little jack rabbit books (trademark registered) * * * * * little jack rabbit and the squirrel brothers by david cory author of little jack rabbit's adventures little jack rabbit and danny fox little jack rabbit and chippy chipmunk little jack rabbit and the big brown bear illustrated by h. s. barbour new york grosset & dunlap publishers made in the united states of america copyright, 1921, by grosset & dunlap contents page the game of marbles 9 a little piece of looking glass 13 the fleet 16 more nuts 20 old squirrel nutcracker 23 home hunting 26 an old crow's nest 30 parson owl explains 34 the little gold ring 38 wedding bells 42 "nuts and raisins" 46 bad news 49 poor jimmy mink 53 professor jim crow's lesson 57 to the post office 61 more stamps 65 busy times 69 an accident 73 two pigeons 77 miss pussy 81 a busy beaver 85 don't worry 89 the little frosty painter 93 grandpa possum 97 cousin chatterbox 101 jimmy jay 105 the tip of a tail 109 old barney owl 113 "help! help!" 117 pumpkin place, p. o. 121 an ice cream pine cone 125 little jack rabbit and the squirrel brothers the game of marbles never stop upon your way, just to fool around and play. learn to quickly go to school; never, never break this rule. but, oh dear me. one morning when little jack rabbit met the squirrel brothers, featherhead, the naughty gray squirrel, asked him to stop and play a game of marbles. "where are your marbles?" asked the little rabbit. "here they are," answered featherhead, taking some red and yellow oak apples out of his pocket. "they make dandy marbles." little jack rabbit dropped his school books, and quickly dug a hole in the ground. then they all took turns rolling the marbles to see who would have the first shot. the little bunny's was the first to drop into the hole, although twinkle tail's was very close and featherhead's not far away. it was then easy for little jack rabbit to hit the two marbles. why, he couldn't miss them, they were so close. i guess they would have been playing until now if all of a sudden, just like that, bobbie redvest hadn't called out: "ding-a-ling! ding-a-ling! the school bell is ringing." "gracious me!" cried little bunny, and off he went, clipperty clip, lipperty lip. featherhead and twinkle tail picked up their books and followed. it certainly was lucky that the little robin had shouted, "ding-a-ling! ding-a-ling!" for hardly had they reached the top of the hill when the school bell commenced: "ding, dong! ding, dong! ding, dong!" "hurry up!" cried little jack rabbit, "or we'll be late," and he hopped along faster than ever. professor crow was standing in the doorway waiting for the last scholar to arrive. all out of breath and scared to death, came little jackie bunny. and twinkle tail began to quail, and featherhead felt funny. they thought the teacher standing there gave them a cold and angry stare. perhaps he did, but soon he went and o'er his platform table bent, while featherhead and twinkle tail slipped in their seats with faces pale. then up stood stern professor crow and said some scholars are so slow that if they'd stop upon the way they'd never get to school all day. then he sat down and called the school to order. but, oh dear me! none of the little marble players knew his lesson. and instead of being allowed to go when school was over, they were kept in and made to study until late in the afternoon. a little piece of looking glass if you a naughty act will do, you may at first escape; but soon or later you'll get caught- so don't get in a scrape. featherhead was the worst pupil in the shady forest school and made lots of trouble for professor crow. one day he held a small piece of looking glass in the sunlight. the flash almost blinded the poor old crow's eyes, and at first he couldn't tell who had done it. but naughtiness will always out, and the next time featherhead was caught. yes, sir! the next time he tried it on professor crow, that old gentleman bird jumped down from the platform and took hold of that naughty squirrel's ear. and not so very gently, either. featherhead squirmed and tried to get away, but the good professor held on tight, and pretty soon the little squirrel grew very quiet indeed. he grew as quiet as a little lamb; that's what he did. "young man!" said professor crow in a hard, stern voice, "your father, squirrel nutcracker, is a dear old friend of mine. if it weren't for that i'd give you a flogging." goodness me! when featherhead heard that he trembled all over, and his beautiful bushy tail lost its curl and dragged on the floor like a piece of string! "you're a bad lot," went on the old professor bird. "you never know your lessons, and if you don't mend your ways i'll expel you from the school!" gracious me! think of having that said to you! goosey lucy's little son, goosey gander, almost fell off the dunce stool, and little jack rabbit was so frightened that his little pink nose trembled for an hour. nobody played games during recess that day, but hung around in little groups talking it over. and you may be sure they kept away from featherhead, who stood all alone by the flag pole wishing he hadn't been such a bad squirrel. the fleet something had happened in the shady forest since busy beaver had built his dam. you see, as it held back the bubbling brook, the water grew deeper and deeper, and by and by it began to spread all around, until after a while, there was a pond. this didn't trouble the little people of the shady forest. no, indeed. they liked to have a pond in the forest. but they didn't like to have the big chestnut tree right in the middle of it. no, sir. the water had spread all around the biggest and finest nut tree in the whole forest, and, of course, now no one could gather the nuts. "what are we going to do?" asked chippy chipmunk. "make a boat and sail over," answered featherhead, the gray squirrel. this wasn't a bad idea, but who was going to make the boat? nobody in the shady forest knew how to build one. professor crow suggested that the birds carry the nuts for the four-footed people, but they answered that they had all they could do to feed themselves and couldn't spare the time. and grandmother magpie said she wouldn't carry nuts for anybody, even if she had all the time that was wasted every day by some people right there in the shady forest. just then along came old squirrel nutcracker. "why not make rafts out of twigs? you don't need a boat builder for that, you know." this seemed a splendid idea, and at once all the squirrels set to work, and in a short time quite a fleet was ready to be launched. there wasn't room for more than one squirrel on a raft, so some of the squirrels had to stay ashore. featherhead was the first to shove off. he had a little sack and a large oar, and spread out his tail for a sail. billy breeze was very kind and blew the rafts over to the island on which the big chestnut tree stood. then all the squirrels went ashore and commenced to fill their sacks with nuts, when, all of a sudden, old barney owl looked out of his nest and said: "this is my tree and these nuts belong to me. if you wish any, you must pay a penny!" "if we bring you something to-morrow, will that do?" asked twinkle tail. "yes," answered the old owl. so the squirrels filled their sacks and sailed home. but soon the news from squirrelville spread o'er the meadow to the hill, and up the shady forest trail, and through the quiet verdant vale. it's strange how rumor quickly goes; it runs on very nimble toes, and everybody hears the news before it has worn out its shoes. more nuts it wasn't very long before all the little people in the shady forest had heard how the squirrels had sailed over to the island after nuts. so when featherhead and the other squirrels set out the next day there was quite a crowd on shore to watch them. featherhead had a nice new-laid egg from henny penny for old barney owl, and twinkle tail a little fish from the bubbling brook. when they reached the island, the two little squirrels ran up the big chestnut tree and rapped on old barney owl's front door. they had to rap three or four times before he opened it. he was cross and sleepy, and at first didn't remember them at all. in fact, his eyes were so blinky that i don't believe he even saw them. "we have brought you an egg for the nuts we took yesterday," said featherhead. "and here is a little fish for what we'll take to-day," added twinkle tail. old barney owl opened one eye and, taking the egg and the little fish, closed the door without even thanking them. "he didn't say we could have any nuts to-day," said twinkle tail. "he took the little fish, so i guess it's all right." "guess it's all right!" cried featherhead. "of course, it's all right. what do we care, anyway? he can't see in the light. what right has old barney to say all these nuts belong to him?" it didn't take the squirrels long after the sacks were filled to carry them down to the shore and load them on the rafts. but, oh dear me. billy breeze wasn't very kind this time. no matter how they held up their tails for sails, as soon as they had pushed off, he blew them right back on the land. "we'll have to paddle around to the other side," said featherhead. "then perhaps billy breeze will push us home." after a good deal of trouble, for it was no easy matter to paddle the rafts around the island, they set off once again. and this time billy breeze did his best, and landed them safely on the mainland. "i couldn't help you on the other side," he explained. "you see, i can blow only one way to-day." "that's all right," answered the squirrel brothers. "we have the nuts!" and away they scampered. old squirrel nutcracker twinkle tail and featherhead were old enough to find homes for themselves, so old squirrel nutcracker thought. and when that old squirrel had thought out a thing seriously he was pretty likely to put it into words. "i feel sorry for the boys," said mrs. nutcracker, wiping her eyes with her calico apron, as she stood beneath the big chestnut tree talking to mrs. rabbit. "they've had such a comfortable home, if i do say it myself. but last night squirrel nutcracker said after dinner: "'boys, it's time for you to get out and hustle for yourselves. it will make men-squirrels out of you. if you get into trouble, always remember your father will help you. and don't forget your mother.'" poor mrs. nutcracker threw her apron over her head and burst into tears. "don't cry," said the kind bunny lady, and very soon she said good-by and hopped home to the old bramble patch to tell her little rabbit the news. when mrs. nutcracker reached home she found her little squirrel boys packing up their things. twinkle tail had his nearly finished, but featherhead was only half through. so mrs. nutcracker helped him, and when it was all done, she sat down and cried again. poor mrs. nutcracker felt so badly she just couldn't help it. just then old squirrel nutcracker came up the stairs, so she dried her eyes and the two little squirrels picked up their trunks and started down the tree. when they reached the first landing, a great big limb that spread out to one side, there stood squirrel nutcracker. his voice was a little husky as he said: "i want to be proud of you, twinkle tail and featherhead. see that you find nice homes and that you don't do anything to make me ashamed of you." then he hugged them good-by and went upstairs to mrs. nutcracker. home hunting it was a week or so after the squirrel brothers had left nutcracker lodge to find homes for themselves that little jack rabbit came across twinkle tail. it's not an easy thing to find a new home, especially when all the nice warm hollow trees were already crowded with little people. twinkle tail discovered this when he started in house-hunting. "why don't you take grandmother magpie's nest?" asked the little rabbit. "she hasn't used it for some time and nobody seems to want it." this was very true; perhaps it was because nobody liked grandmother magpie. but after twinkle tail had taken it over you never would have known it. you see, he altered it and arranged it and patched it up to suit himself. while he was putting on the finishing touches, who should come along but the old lady magpie herself. "do you mind my doing this to your old place?" he asked, looking up from his work. "not at all," replied grandmother magpie, "i'm done with it. you're quite welcome to it, my dear." this was the first time she had ever done a nice thing for anybody in the shady forest. but, you see, she liked twinkle tail. he was the only person she did like. i guess the reason was that she had never forgotten he had once been very polite to her. "thank you," said twinkle tail, smiling sweetly, and then he set to work harder than ever. after that the old lady magpie flew away, thinking how strange it was that a house which one has grown tired of often suits another person very well. by and by twinkle tail had another caller. it was bobbie redvest. "how do you like the way i'm fixing up my house?" asked the little squirrel. "i think you've made one mistake," replied bobbie redvest. "what is it?" asked twinkle tail anxiously. "the great thing, you know, is to hide your house as much as possible." the little squirrel dropped the piece of green moss he was about to use, and waited. "you should make it look like the place it's in," went on the little robin. "you have chosen a browny place, so you must use brown moss on the outside." "that sounds like good advice," said twinkle tail. "i'll do as you say." here a leaf and there a twig, piece of twine to bind them- then some moss to spread across, till it's hard to find them. soon the tiny treetop house will be built and ready; dry beneath the pelting rain, against the wind quite steady. an old crow's nest now featherhead had a much harder time finding a home than brother twinkle tail. he traveled from the oaks to the beech trees, jumping from branch to branch, peeping first into this place and then into that, but every hole and hollow had a tenant. by and by he ran down to the ground and along the winding paths through the leaves and brush, but even then he could find nothing. no, sir. there didn't seem to be a single place in the whole big forest for this little squirrel. "goodness me!" he exclaimed, "what shall i do? i don't want to go back to nutcracker lodge and tell them i can't look out for myself. i'd feel like a baby." so he sat down to think it over. all of a sudden who should come by but jimmy crow. "what's the matter? you look dreadfully worried." "and so i am," replied the little squirrel. "and so would you be if you couldn't find a home for yourself." jimmy crow turned his head first to one side and then to the other, and winked his bright little eye. then he winked the other several times. after that he wagged his feathered tail and opened both eyes. "i know just the place for you." "you don't mean it," cried featherhead. "i certainly do," replied jimmy crow, "if you'll follow me i'll take you there in a jiffy." and jimmie crow knew what he was about, for he quickly led the little squirrel to a tall oak tree whose acorns lay in heaps all over the ground. way up high on a branch was an old crow's nest. "there's the place for you," cried jimmy crow. "you can fix it up in no time." featherhead thanked him and ran up the tree to look it over. it didn't take him long to make up his mind what to do. pressing the sticks more closely together, he covered them overhead and all around with leafy twigs, until it looked like a great big ball of leaves. in one side he made a little round hole for a doorway, and as the roof was nicely rounded, and this was the only opening, the rain couldn't get inside. "with a good supply of nuts," he laughed, "i won't have to go down to the ground for my meals, and can sleep for days at a time when it's cold and stormy!" my little house up in the tree is just the very thing for me. it holds my food and keeps the rain from off my comfy counterpane. but sometimes it seems lonely quite when fall the shadows of the night, and i have no one but myself to climb up to the pantry shelf. parson owl explains one day as twinkle tail was taking a walk through the treetops, he met a young lady squirrel. she was anxiously looking here and there as if in search of something. "are you looking for anybody?" asked twinkle tail, lifting his little fur cap and bowing politely. "not exactly," she replied, "i'm looking for a furnished apartment. do you know of one?" twinkle tail didn't answer at once. he wanted to say something, but as he was a bashful little squirrel, it took him some time to make up his mind. miss squirrel, however, was not the least impatient, but curled her beautiful bushy tail up over her back and looked her prettiest. at last he said: "why don't you share my house? it's a very nice sort of a place since i fixed it up. it once belonged to grandmother magpie, you know." after little miss squirrel had looked it over, she seemed greatly pleased, especially with the kitchenette, in which were stored lots of beech nuts, hazels and fir-cones. and i think she was even more pleased with twinkle tail, for she agreed to get married to him at once. so off he started for parson owl and a little gold ring, while she went into the kitchenette to get the wedding supper. on his way he met little jack rabbit. "i'm going to get married to-day! come to my house this afternoon at five," shouted twinkle tail. "all right," answered the little rabbit. "i'll run home to tell mother." pretty soon twinkle tail met squirrel nutcracker. "i knew there was going to be a wedding," he exclaimed, when he heard the news. "i saw three magpies this very morning, and that's a sure sign." then he patted the little squirrel's head and promised that he and mrs. nutcracker would surely come. by the time twinkle tail reached the parsonage at the top of the old oak tree it was quite late. "have you got the wedding ring?" asked parson owl as the little squirrel turned to go. "goodness gracious meebus!" exclaimed twinkle tail, "i've forgotten all about it." parson owl yawned, for it's only in the night-time that owls are wide awake, you know, and replied: "can't marry you without a ring. no, indeed. who ever heard of a wedding without a ring?" (parson owl was wide awake enough to know that! goodness me! i hope the little squirrel will find a jewelry store somewhere in the shady forest.) the little gold ring twinkle tail felt dreadfully worried as he left the parsonage. where was he to get the ring? without it, parson owl had said there could be no wedding. little miss squirrel was waiting for him at the house, and all the guests would be there at five o'clock. parson owl had agreed to be on time although it was a trifle too bright at that hour for his blinky old eyes. there was only one thing missing--the little gold wedding ring. "there's only one person who can help me," cried twinkle tail, and off he ran to the old bramble patch. in answer to his impatient knock, little jack rabbit opened the door. then they both sat down on the stone step while the little squirrel told his troubles one by one. "parson owl says there can't be a wedding without a ring," sighed twinkle tail, finishing his story. "but where to get the ring, i don't know." "i do," answered the little rabbit, jumping up quickly. "come with me," and up the old cow patch, over the sunny meadow, he hopped with twinkle tail close to his heels. by and by they came to the old farm yard. there stood ducky waddles by the old creaking gate. he had just come in from a swim in the old duck pond and was combing his feathers with his big yellow bill. "good afternoon," said the little bunny. "i've come to ask a favor." "what is it?" asked ducky waddles. "you explain matters first, twinkle tail, and then i'll talk to ducky waddles," said little jack rabbit. it didn't take twinkle tail long to tell his troubles--how little miss squirrel had agreed to marry him that afternoon; how all the little people of the shady forest were coming to the wedding at five; how parson owl had agreed to marry them; how everything was ready except the little gold wedding ring. "who told you i had a little gold ring?" asked ducky waddles. "nobody," answered the little squirrel, "but i suppose it's all right." "yes, it's all right," laughed ducky waddles with a funny quack, "and now, mr. jack rabbit, what's the favor you wish me to do?" "won't you give twinkle tail the little gold ring you found in the bubbling brook last sunday?" ducky waddles took a little gold ring out of his feather waistcoat pocket and handed it to twinkle tail. (pretty soon we'll hear the wedding bells tinkling in the forest dells.) wedding bells twinkle tail was delighted to get the little gold ring. "you must come to the wedding," he said to ducky waddles. "it's to be at five o'clock at my house. please tell henny penny and cocky doodle that they're invited, and ask goosey lucy and turkey tim to come, too. i'm in such a hurry i can't wait to see them." "i'll come," answered ducky waddles, "and i won't forget to tell the barnyard folk that they're invited." "don't lose the ring," cautioned little jack rabbit, as he and the little squirrel hurried down the old cow path to the shady forest. just then they met mrs. cow. she was wagging her head back and forth to brush off the flies and the little bell on her leather collar made a pretty tinkling sound. "let's ask her to come and ring the wedding bells." "the very thing," laughed twinkle tail. "won't you come to my wedding, mrs. cow? please do." "when is it to be?" she asked. "to-night at five," answered twinkle tail, with a blush. "pretty near milking-time," explained mrs. cow. "oh, it won't take long," replied the little rabbit. "do come, mrs. cow. we want you to ring your bell at the wedding. did you ever ring a wedding bell?" "no," answered mrs. cow, "but i guess i know how. i'll come, but i may not be able to stay all the time for i must get back in time for milking." then the three started off together, and when they reached the shady forest, twinkle tail looked back and saw henny penny and cocky doodle coming up the old cow path dressed in their sunday clothes. just behind them were ducky waddles and goosey lucy and in the distance turkey tim hurrying along the old rail fence to catch up to them. "goodness me!" exclaimed the little squirrel, "i won't have much time to dress," and he set off at a great pace, leaving mrs. cow and little jack rabbit behind. when he reached his house he found miss squirrel anxiously looking out of the window, but when she saw him, she laughed and said, "i thought you were lost, dear twinkle tail!" pretty soon parson owl arrived, and when all the guests were seated, he told twinkle tail and miss squirrel to stand up before him. and after twinkle tail had placed the little gold ring on miss squirrel's little finger toe, mrs. cow rang the wedding bells and bobbie redvest sang a song. "nuts and raisins" there was a grand feast after the wedding of twinkle tail and little miss squirrel. there were nuts and raisins for everybody, and i don't know of anything much nicer than nuts and raisins. of course, all the barnyard folk ate raisins, for they couldn't crack the nuts. it almost gave ducky waddles a toothache watching twinkle tail crack the shells. cocky doodle made a pretty speech, wishing the twinkle tails a long life and a happy one, in which all the little people of the forest joined him. after that everybody looked at the wedding presents, which if not beautiful, were very useful. henny penny gave a nice new laid egg and turkey tim a bag of corn. little jack rabbit brought a big carrot and chippy chipmunk a basket of nuts. of course ducky waddles didn't give them anything more--the little gold ring was his present, which twinkle tail had slipped on the little toe-finger of miss squirrel at a nod from parson owl. you see, twinkle tail had never been married before, so parson owl had helped him a little--which i presume all good kind ministers do when they marry young people. at any rate, parson owl did, and so everything went off very smoothly. on the way home if it hadn't been for some friendly fireflies, little jack rabbit might have lost his way. and then again, maybe not, for he was a pretty bright little bunny and like all the forest folk, knew how to take care of himself. at the same time, it's nice to have a lantern on a dark night. one might, you know, stumble into a deep hole. when they reached the old bramble patch, the little rabbit said: "i'd ask you in, only i'm afraid mother's asleep." "thank you just the same," answered the kind fireflies. "we are glad to have helped you with our little lanterns," and they flew away to the sunny meadow to wink and blink like little stars among the tall grasses. the little rabbit opened the door and hopped softly up to his room and was soon fast asleep in his comfortable bed. bad news it's really too bad that the miller's boy should be snooping around with his gun. why doesn't he stay in the old mill all day and leave little folks to their fun? that's what the little people of the shady forest and the sunny meadow thought. you see, the miller's boy had very little to do just now, for the farmers were busy in the fields and the corn wasn't ready to be ground into meal. so all the miller's boy had to do was to attend to a few chores and then get out his gun and go hunting. and of course all the little four-footed and feathered people were dreadfully afraid of that great noisy gun. "look here," said mrs. rabbit, one day to her little son, "you had better be careful. you can't run faster than a bullet, you know. it's all very well to run away from danny fox and mr. wicked weasel, or to dodge from under hungry hawk, but a bullet is a different thing," and the kind lady bunny patted her small son on the left ear and gave him a piece of cherry pie. well, as soon as the pie was gone, little jack rabbit hopped out of the old bramble patch, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, and pretty soon he met chippy chipmunk and woody chuck in the shady forest. "mother says a bullet goes faster than danny fox," explained the little bunny, and as everybody in the shady forest knew mrs. rabbit never told anything that wasn't true, as grandmother magpie did, for instance, these two little friends looked very serious. yes, indeed, they looked serious. they began to feel that the miller's boy was a dangerous person. "let's tell all our friends," said woody chuck, so off the three started and by and by, not so very far, they came to the shady forest pond where busy beaver lived. "pooh, pooh!" he said, when he heard the news. "i'm safe in the water. he can't get a shot at me." "don't be too sure," answered little jack rabbit, as he ran down to the old duck pond to tell granddaddy bullfrog. now the old gentleman frog was half asleep on his log, his chin resting on his gray waistcoat and his eyes closed, for he had just eaten a big dinner of flies. "helloa, there, granddaddy bullfrog," shouted the little rabbit. the old frog opened his eyes and took out his watch to see the time, for he thought at first it was mrs. bullfrog calling him home. "oh, it's you, is it?" he said to the little rabbit. "gracious me, i must have fallen asleep, for i had a dream. "i thought i'd caught a thousand flies, all on this summer day. but now that you've awakened me they all have flown away. "oh, it was such a pleasant dream, i fear i shall grow thinner. you should have let me slumber on until i'd finished dinner." poor jimmy mink as soon as little rabbit had told the old gentleman frog to watch out for the miller's boy, he hopped along by the bubbling brook, as it wound in and out among the trees of the shady forest or went splashing over rocks and fallen logs. all of a sudden he met jimmy mink. but, oh dear me! what was the matter with jimmy mink? he was hobbling on three legs. what could be the matter? "helloa, there, jimmy mink," shouted the little rabbit. "what makes you walk on three legs, when you can walk on four? i didn't know that you had been a soldier in the war." "i haven't," replied jimmy mink. "i got caught in a trap," and he lifted up his right foreleg. "why, your foot's gone!" gasped the little rabbit. "isn't that dreadful?" "yes, it's pretty bad," answered jimmy mink. "but the only way i could free myself was to bite off my foot." "oh! oh! oh!" cried the little rabbit, sorrowfully. "tell me how it happened." so jimmy mink explained how one day when he had crept out of his little house under the bank of the bubbling brook, he had seen a nice fat trout on an old log. "there was a queer looking iron thing there, too," he said, "but i didn't think anything about that. but, oh dear me! when i picked up the trout, something snapped and my leg was caught fast. oh, how it pinched! i pulled and pulled. but i couldn't get away. then i tried to bite the iron thing that held my foot, but i couldn't break it. so at last i gnawed off my foot." "whew!" whistled the little bunny through his teeth. "i never could do that. my, but you're a brave fellow." "there's the iron thing over there," said jimmy mink, pointing to a trap that lay on an old log close to the bank. the little rabbit hopped over and looked at it. and, sure enough, pinched in between the jaws of the cruel trap was jimmy mink's little black foot. "but i've learned my lesson," said jimmy mink. "next time if i want trout, i'll catch him in the water, not on top of a log," and he jumped into the pool and swam away. then the little rabbit hopped along the shady forest trail, but he couldn't forget poor little jimmy mink. well, after a while, all of a sudden, he heard a great chickering and chirring overhead. around and around the trunk of the tree went two bodies, one a yellowish brown, about as large as a cat, and the other gray, with a long bushy tail. up to the top they went as fast as lightning, around and around, corkscrew fashion, and then down they came to the ground and before his yellowish brown enemy could catch him, twinkle tail dashed into a crack between two stones. professor jim crow's lesson "i'm so glad twinkle tail got away," said little jack rabbit to himself, as the frightened gray squirrel squeezed in between the rocks. and then the little rabbit hopped away as fast as he could, and pretty soon he saw professor jim crow with his little black book in his claw. "tell me, professor jim crow," said the little rabbit, "what is the name of the yellowish-brown animal that chases little gray squirrels around and around the trunks of trees?" "how big was he?" asked the wise old bird, putting on his spectacles and turning over the leaves of his little black book. "larger than the farmer's black cat," answered the little rabbit. "did it look something like a fox?" asked the old crow. "yes, he did," replied the little rabbit. professor jim crow smiled and turned to page 49. "listen!" he said. "the marten looks very much like a young fox about two months old. its color is a yellowish-brown, a little darker than a yellow fox, with a number of long black hairs. it is a great climber, hunts squirrels and robs birds' nests." then the wise old crow closed his book and wiped his spectacles. "you have learned something to-day, little rabbit. mother nature's school house will teach you lots of things," and the old professor bird flew away. [illustration: "i'm in the hollow stump telephone booth." _page_ 59] "well, i'm going to have a good time now," thought the little rabbit to himself. "i've learned my daily lesson. i'll call up uncle john." so off he hopped to the hollow stump telephone booth. "what number do you want?" asked the telephone girl who was a little wood-mouse. "one, two, three, harefield," answered the little rabbit, and in less than five hundred short seconds, he heard his uncle's voice over the wire. "goodness gracious meebus!" exclaimed mr. john hare, "i thought you'd forgotten all about your old uncle. where are you?" "i'm in the hollow stump telephone booth," answered the little rabbit. "i'll come right over to the old bramble patch," said uncle john, and the old gentleman hare dropped the receiver on his left hind toe he was so excited. you see, he hadn't heard from his little bunny nephew for so long that he supposed he had enlisted in uncle sam's army or aunt columbia's navy! well, anyway, as soon as the little rabbit had paid the little wood-mouse five carrot cents, he hopped home to tell his mother that uncle john hare was coming over to supper. to the post office "billy breeze, please blow no more the leaves around the kitchen door. it takes my time till ten fifteen to make the doorstep nice and clean," said little jack rabbit the next morning after he had polished the front doorknob and fed the canary and filled the woodbox in the kitchen with kindling wood. oh, my, yes, he was a busy little rabbit. he had to help his mother in lots of ways, especially when uncle john hare was making a visit at the old bramble patch. well, when the little rabbit had done all these things, his mother asked him to go down to the post office and buy her three war savings stamps and the rabbitville gazette for uncle john, who had a touch of rheumatism in his left hind toe and didn't feel like hopping around, but preferred to sit in an armchair on the back stoop where it was warm and sunny. now, as little jack rabbit hopped along, he met chippy chipmunk under the big chestnut tree, so of course he stopped and said good morning. "where are you going?" asked the little chipmunk. and when he found out, he took two twenty-five carrot cent pieces out of his pocket and asked the little rabbit to buy him two thrift stamps. "all right," said the little bunny, dropping the two quarters in his knapsack, and by and by, not so very far, he met squirrel nutcracker. "where are you going?" asked the old gray squirrel. "down to the post office," answered the little rabbit. "will you buy me a dollar's worth of thrift stamps, please," said squirrel nutcracker. so the little rabbit tucked the lettuce dollar bill in his waistcoat pocket and hopped along. and pretty soon, not so very far, he met busy beaver. he was plastering the top of his little mud house and was dreadfully busy, but when he heard where little jack rabbit was going, he put his little muddy paw in his pocket and took out a fifty cent piece. "please buy me two thrift stamps, i've no time to go to the village. i must finish my house before the frost comes." the little rabbit put the fifty cent piece in his knapsack and hopped along, and by and by parson owl, who sat winking and blinking in his hollow tree house, called out to the little rabbit as he hopped over the dry leaves: "hey, there! where are you going?" "down to the post office to buy stamps!" "will you buy me ten dollars' worth if i give you the money?" asked the winky, blinky old owl. goodness me; it will take another story to tell what happened after that. more stamps now let me see. we left little billy bunny on his way to the post office to buy thrift stamps and the rabbitville gazette. and, oh dear me! i'm all mixed up. i can't remember whether timmy chipmunk gave the little rabbit ten dollars or whether old parson owl did. or whether the squirrel brothers wanted two stamps, or whether it was busy beaver who wanted three, or maybe four and perhaps five. oh dear me again! but never mind. i guess the little rabbit wasn't mixed up, for he hopped along as happy as you please, and just before he came to rabbitville, he heard a voice in the treetops say: "where are you going, little hoppity hop, you're going so fast maybe you can't stop." "oh, yes, i can," answered little jack rabbit. "what do you want?" "that depends on where you are going," said professor jim crow, for it was the old blackbird who had stopped the little rabbit, you see. "i'm going to the post office to buy mother three thrift stamps and uncle john the rabbitville gazette, and let me see. oh, yes; oh, yes. chippy chipmunk gave me two quarters to buy him two thrift stamps, and squirrel nutcracker handed me a lettuce dollar bill to buy him four, and busy beaver gave me a fifty-cent piece to buy him two, and parson owl just now pinned in my inside pocket a ten-dollar lettuce bill to pay for forty stamps." "i wonder what he wants so many stamps for?" said professor jim crow. "why doesn't he buy a liberty bond?" "maybe he wants to give them away," answered the little rabbit. "but i mustn't stop--i must be going." "wait, wait," said professor jim crow. "here's some money. buy me ten thrift stamps," and he handed over a two and one-half dollar lettuce bill. "don't lose the half," added the wise old crow, and then he flew up into his old pine tree and cawed away right merrily. and after that the little rabbit hopped along and when he came to the post office, he went up to the little stamp window and asked the old maid grasshopper, who was the postmistress, you remember--but if you don't, she was, just the same, for bobbie redvest told me so--if there were any letters. but there was only the rabbitville gazette done up in a pink wrapper and yellow two-cent stamp. "have you thrift stamps?" asked bunny boy. and when the lady grasshopper said yes, he told her just how many he wanted, for he could remember everything, you see, which is more than i can, let me tell you, unless i look back over this story. and after he had put the stamps carefully in his knapsack with little pieces of wax paper between so that they wouldn't stick together, he started back for the old bramble patch. and in the next story, if all those stamps don't get angry and try to lick each other, i'll tell you what happened after that. busy times when little jack rabbit finally reached home with the stamps and the rabbitville gazette, he found his uncle john singing at the piano this lovely song: the autumn leaves are falling along the woodland ways, in scarlet, brown and yellow coats these cool november days. they rustle by the old rail fence, they whisper in the lane, or from the shivering half-clad trees they sing a sad refrain. but mrs. rabbit was too busy putting up carrot preserves and lettuce pickles to even listen. all the little people of the shady forest and sunny meadow were getting ready for winter. the little feathered people were pruning their wings for a long flight to the warm southland, and the four-footed folk were gathering nuts and grain for their storehouses. the squirrel brothers had a bushel of nuts, and maybe more, laid away carefully in the old chestnut tree, and chippy chipmunk had filled his underground storeroom with nuts and corn. granddaddy bullfrog was almost ready to dive into the old duck pond to hide in the soft warm mud. teddy turtle, too, would soon find for himself a nice warm spot on the mud bottom of the mill pond before jack frost touched the water with his icy fingers. and mr. john hare had telephoned to the old red rooster to come over and put up mrs. rabbit's storm-door and bank the cellar windows with dry leaves. "mother," said little jack rabbit, as he polished the brass doorknob, "i guess jack frost will soon be around." "shouldn't wonder," she replied, "but who's afraid of jack frost? danny fox and mr. wicked weasel, to say nothing of hungry hawk, are more to be feared." and that good lady rabbit began her ironing, for it was tuesday, the day when all rabbitville irons monday's wash, i'm told. just then bobbie redvest began to sing: the summer time is over, and all the golden hours, no more the roses crimson bloom amid the garden bowers. the little birds have left their nests and now are strong of wing, they will not build themselves a home until the lovely spring, but fly away to southern lands, where warmth and sunshine reign, they cannot brave the winter wind, the snow drifts in the lane. and little four-foot furry folks will safely hide away, and sleep until the winter's past and spring has come to stay. an accident well, after uncle john hare had spent about a week at the old bramble patch, he thought it time to go home. so he called up his house and ordered his bunnymobile sent for him. "now don't worry about little jack rabbit," he said to the anxious lady bunny, "i'll take good care of him and send him home safe and sound." then he put on his goggles while the little rabbit cranked up the bunnymobile, and off they went. you see, uncle john was so fond of his little rabbit nephew that he just had to take him out for a drive. but, goodness me. they had gone only a little way when they ran into a load of hay. and, oh dear me! it tumbled down on top of them and hid the bunnymobile from sight. wasn't that dreadful? well, i don't know what would have happened--they would have been smothered or had hay fever, i guess--if a big circus elephant hadn't come hurrying along just then. well, sir! he wound his trunk around that pile of hay and put it back on the wagon. then he dropped in his pocket the nickel the farmer gave him, but he wouldn't take the carrot cent that grateful uncle john offered him. [illustration: the elephant put the hay right back on the wagon. _page_ 74] "i'm so nervous you'd better drive," cried the old gentleman hare. so little jack rabbit took the wheel and for a little while everything went along nicely. but pretty soon it grew dark, so the little rabbit hopped out to light the lamps. but when he struck a match he found that the lamps were smashed to pieces. you see, they had hit the back of the hay wagon. "what shall we do?" "get in and go along the best you can," answered the old gentleman hare. "we ought to be pretty near home by this time." and i guess they would have reached his little red house in a few minutes if the policeman dog hadn't stopped them. "what do you mean by running your bunnymobile without lights?" he growled. "i'll fine you ten bones!" "make it carrots and i'll pay you," said uncle john. but the policeman dog wouldn't take carrots. you see, he liked bones much better. then he jumped on the running board and told them to drive to station house no. 13. but wasn't it lucky? they had gone only a little way when they came to a butcher shop, where uncle john traded ten carrots for ten bones. and when he gave them to the policeman dog, he told them they might drive home slowly. but, oh dear me. all of a sudden a big owl gave a hooty toot. no sooner did the two little rabbits hear that dreadful noise than they hopped out of the bunnymobile and into a hollow stump. "you'll be safe, now," said a little grasshopper from her clover patch house, nearby. two pigeons well, i'm going to tell you right away that the two little rabbits got safely home, although they had to hide all night in the hollow stump from the old owl. but the grasshopper stayed in the clover patch and built a little house with a front-door latch. well, as soon as they had run the bunnymobile in the garage, they went into the little red house, and had breakfast. after that was over little jack rabbit said good-by and hopped off home to the old bramble patch. and while he was hopping along who should come by but old professor jim crow with his little black book. "helloa there, little rabbit," said the wise old bird, and then he opened his little black book and, turning to page 23, he said: "let me read you something about pigeons." "why?" asked the little bunny, wiggling his little pink nose so fast that old professor jim crow's eyes filled with tears, and he had to take off his spectacles and wipe them with his silk pocket handkerchief. "because," answered the old crow, "two pigeons have made their home in the loft of your mother's old barn." then he put on his spectacles again and commenced to read aloud: "pigeons always lay two eggs, and these produce a male and a female, so they are mated from birth, and, could they remain so, they would be the happiest of winged beings." and then the old professor closed his book and said, "better hurry home and see the new pigeons." so away hopped the little rabbit, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, over the sunny meadow until, by and by, after awhile, he came to the old bramble patch. there stood his mother in the backyard. she had just placed a pan of water under a tree for the pigeons. "don't make any noise," she said, as the little rabbit drew near. pretty soon mr. pigeon flew down to taste the water, and by and by mrs. pigeon fluttered down by his side. "cock-a-doodle-do, of pigeons we have two, but some day there'll be dozens more a-cooing by the old barn door," sang the old red rooster who had come over from uncle john's to help mrs. rabbit weed the carrot patch. after that she and her little bunny boy hopped up on the front porch to hear the canary bird in her gold cage sing: "i wouldn't be a pigeon and live in an old red barn, i'd rather be here when the weather is drear and watch mrs. bunny darn." which made the kind lady rabbit laugh, for she spent lots of time, let me tell you, darning the holes in her little bunny boy's golf stockings. miss pussy the pumpkins in the cornfield are as yellow as can be, and the apples, red and golden, are hanging on the tree, the grapes in purple clusters are swinging on the vine, and the old crow's nest is empty upon the lonely pine. "ha, ha," shouted little jack rabbit, as billy breeze blew across the sunny meadow, and, let me tell you, billy breeze was just a little bit chilly, this cool november morning. "i wonder what i'll do," thought the little rabbit, and he wiggled his little pink nose sideways, and then off he went, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, and by and by he came to an old hollow stump. so he peeked in, and then, all of a sudden, a purring voice asked: "what are you doing, mr. curious one?" "oh, i wasn't doing anything wrong," answered the little bunny. "i just wanted to see what was inside." "well, i'll show you," answered the voice, and out popped a little black cat, with green eyes and a pink ribbon. "oh, it's you, miss pussy," laughed the little rabbit. "i'm glad it wasn't a bear or a wildcat," and he laughed some more and wiggled his little pink nose just for fun, you understand. "what are you doing out here?" "looking for mice," answered the little black pussy. "don't you bother timmy meadowmouse," said little jack rabbit quickly; "he's a friend of mine." and then, what do you suppose happened? why, the farmer's dog came by, and away went the little rabbit, and up went miss pussy cat's back, and her tail grew so big that had she tried to get back into the hollow stump i guess she would have had to leave her tail behind her! but she didn't. no sireemam. she just humped her back and meowed, and the farmer's dog kept right on after little jack rabbit, but of course he never caught him. well, as soon as the little bunny was safe in the shady forest, he looked about him, and pretty soon, not so very long, he saw professor jim crow with his little black book under his wing. "read me something, won't you please," begged the little rabbit. so the old professor bird took out his book and turned over the pages until he came to "the early worm must look out for the bird." "ha, ha," laughed the little rabbit. "i must tell that to mother. she always tells it the other way 'round." then off he hopped, and the old black bird flew away to his tree in kalamazoo. for that was the name of the little village where professor crow has his home, and where he taught in the grammar school arithmetic and the golden rule, and sometimes latin and sometimes greek, and anything else that a bird can speak. goodness me, if my typewriter hasn't made up this poetry all by itself. i wonder where it went to school. a busy beaver "bunny boy!" called little jack rabbit's mother, oh, so early, as mr. merry sun climbed up the blue gray sky of the early morning, "get up, little bunny!" so the little rabbit hopped out of bed; and after he had combed his hair with a little chip, he ran downstairs to ask his mother about the early worm professor jim crow had mentioned in the last story. after breakfast he hopped out on the sunny meadow and looked about him. mr. merry sun was shining down on the frosty dew and billy breeze was very chilly, and the meadow grass brown and withered. it didn't look at all like the lovely sunny meadow. "oh, dear," sighed the little rabbit, "all the flowers are gone, and most of the birds have flown to the sunny south." just then professor jim crow flew by with his little black book under his wing: "helloa, there, little bunny, how are you this chilly day?" and then that old crow began to read out of his little book: "little rabbit's coat of brown soon will turn to white. then among the snowy drifts he can hide from sight. "you see how mother nature looks after you," said that wise old blackbird. "in the summer your coat is brown like the dry grass and brambles. but when winter comes it turns white so that you won't be seen so well against the snow." then away flew professor jim crow to read his little black book to somebody else, and the little rabbit hopped along and by and by he came to the bubbling brook where the speckled trout swam in and out among the rocks and the little fresh water crabs played in the quiet pools. all of a sudden down fell a tree. "there," said busy beaver, "i'll now have some logs to make a dam." "why do you want a dam? do you want to spoil the bubbling brook?" "it won't spoil the brook," answered the little beaver. "it will only make it deep so that when i build my house for the winter my front door won't freeze up tight." "oh, i see," said little jack rabbit, and he wiggled his little pink nose sideways. "and how soon will you have it finished?" "oh, long before old mr. north wind brings the snow," answered busy beaver. old mr. north wind on his snow horse, swiftly is riding down the golf course, over the meadow and up the steep hill, shouting so hoarsely; "gid ap, there, bill!" don't worry in the last story little jack rabbit, of old bramble patch, u. s. a., was talking to busy beaver, who was making a dam across the bubbling brook, you remember, to keep the water from freezing up his front door in the cold winter time. "every one is getting ready for the cold weather. it won't be long before my dam is finished and then i'll set to work and make my house of mud and sticks," and busy beaver jumped into the water with a flap of his broad tail and disappeared. so the little rabbit hopped along, and by and by he came to the cave where the big brown bear made his home. "helloa!" said little jack rabbit, as the big brown bear looked out of his front door. "winter time will soon be here." "oh, that doesn't worry me," said the big brown bear. "but what will you eat?" asked the little rabbit. "when you're asleep you don't feel hungry. on a warm sunny day i may come out for a little while and find something to eat. i don't worry." worry never makes you fat, instead, it makes you lean. never worry for a minute,- worry has the devil in it,- keep your mind serene. and if you don't know what "serene" means, take your father's dictionary and look up, for the more words you know the wiser you'll grow. "well, i don't have to worry about the cold weather," laughed the little rabbit. "mother nature will give me a new white fur overcoat, and the old bramble patch will keep the wind away, and the cabbage leaves which mother and i have stored away will last all winter." and then away he went to see more of his friends in the shady forest. well, by and by, after a while, he heard the honk of an automobile horn. "i wonder whether that's uncle john," and little jack rabbit stopped and looked all around, and pretty soon, not very long, mr. john hare drove by in his bunnymobile. he looked very fine in his polkadot handkerchief and gold watch and chain and a great big immense diamond horseshoe pin in his pink cravat. oh, my, yes! uncle john was quite a dandy. he was the best dressed hare in harebridge, and why shouldn't he be when you consider he was president of the bank and the harum scarum club! "helloa, there, little nephew," he shouted. "hop in and take a ride with me, we'll take a spin for a mile or three, and maybe we'll come where the lollypops grow, pink and yellow, all in a row." the little frosty painter there's a little frosty painter who soon will come around to put a silver edging on the grasses on the ground, upon the window pane he'll paint a fairy landscape, strange and quaint, and some cold morning you'll awake to find he's frosted mother's cake. now can you guess who this little frosty painter is? why, it's jack frost, the son of king winter. "ha, ha," crowed the weathercock on the big red barn. "jack frost is here, for i can see the silver frost upon the grass in the sunny meadow," and then that gilded rooster turned his head to the north and blew on his gilt toes to keep them warm. pretty soon old sic'em walked out of his little dog house and shook himself. "bow wow," he said, "it's a chilly morning." "cock-a-doodle-do," said cocky doodle, and then henny penny cackled loudly: "i've laid an egg so white and clean 'twould grace a breakfast for a queen. but if a little girl should beg the farmer for my pretty egg, i'd tell him quick to let her go and take my egg as white as snow." as the little hen finished her song, she noticed little jack rabbit by the old rail fence. "helloa, mrs. henny penny," he said. "i like your song. if i see any poor little girl i'll tell her!" and then the little rabbit hopped away, for he just couldn't stay a moment in one place, let me tell you. he wanted to be on the hop, skip and jump all the time, just like lots of little boys and girls i know. well, by and by, after a while, he saw old professor jim crow scratching his head with his claw. "what's the matter?" asked the little rabbit. "i can't make out something i've written in my little black book," answered the old black bird, and he scratched his head again and looked dreadfully perplexed, which means worse than worried, you know. "let me look," said little jack rabbit. and when the old blackbird had flown down from his pine tree, the little bunny leaned over his shoulder, and read: "oh, oh, oh, squirreltown!" "why, that's the squirrel brothers telephone number," he laughed. "so it is," said professor jim crow. "i'm so glad you told me! let's call them up!" "'one, three, five, chestnut hill!' keep on ringing, central, till some one answers, 'hello! who is calling up my bungaloo!' "but if no one says a word; not a twitter from a bird, nor a chatter comes your way, call again another day." grandpa possum but! gracious me! central gave little jack rabbit the wrong number, for as he stood in the hollow stump telephone booth, with the receiver to his ear, he heard grandpa possum say: "i don't care how hard it snows, nor how old mr. north wind blows, for i'm as safe as safe can be in a big warm hole in the old nut tree." "ha, ha!" laughed the little rabbit, hopping out of the booth, just as grandpa possum poked his head out of his hollow tree house, "you certainly look sleepy. what made you wake up?" "what woke me?" asked the possum gentleman angrily. "why, those good for nothing squirrel brothers threw a snowball into my window." and then grandpa possum shook the snow out of his left ear and looked around to find those naughty squirrels. all of a sudden, quicker than a wink, another snowball hit the old hollow tree a tre-men-dous whack. "goodness me!" said grandpa possum, "if i ever catch those pesky squirrels i'll make them wince, yes, i will, as sure as i'm twenty-one!" and he began to grin, for grandpa possum is full of good nature and never can stay angry very long. "if you're good natured, every one will love you more and more, so don't get mad, be always glad, and lend a helping paw," sang grandpa possum, winking at little jack rabbit, as squirrel twinkle tail peeked out and said: "excuse me, grandpa possum, for throwing snow at you, 'twould be too bad to make you mad or just a little blue." and then he and his mischievous brother featherhead ran away and didn't bother grandpa possum for a long time. "well, i guess i'll be getting along," said the little rabbit and he hopped away and by and by he came to the shady forest pond where busy beaver had his home. but of course he wasn't anywhere to be seen. no, siree. he was in his little mud hut whose roof stuck up above the ice and whose cellar door was way down deep where the water was free from ice and he could swim in and out as he pleased. so the little rabbit didn't wait, but hopped along until he came to the edge of the forest, when he started to hop across the sunny meadow to the old barn yard where henny penny and cocky doodle lived all the year 'round. but just then he heard the supper bell. so, instead, he hurried home to be in time for aunt jemima's angel cake. cousin chatterbox little jack rabbit loved the snow that covered the ground with a soft white carpet. his feet never grew cold. no siree, they didn't. all the little forest folk liked the snow, for loving mother nature had given them warm fur, and warm fur laughs at cold just as love laughs at troubles. even mrs. grouse was happy. and if you've forgotten why, i'll tell you again. it was because dear mother nature had given her a pair of snow-shoes. yes, indeed. the skin had grown out between her toes until she could walk as nicely as you please over the snow. and what is more, loving mother nature had taught her to dive into a snowbank where she could stay for the night as snug and warm as you please, when old mr. north wind blew upon his chilly horn. neither did squirrel nutcracker care that the ground was covered with snow, and he could find no more nuts. he had a supply hidden safely away in the old hollow chestnut tree. but he did mind having other people take them. and when his cousin, chatterbox, in his red fur coat, tried to break into his storehouse, squirrel nutcracker was as mad as mad could be. "whoever steals a nut from me from out my storehouse in this tree, a friend of mine shall be no more, so let him stay outside my store." chatterbox grew very angry as he peeped down from the chestnut tree and saw little jack rabbit with a big smile on his face. it told the naughty red squirrel that the little rabbit knew whom the little gray squirrel meant. but when little jack rabbit opened his knapsack and took out a lemon lollypop, you should have seen those two squirrels forget all about their quarrel and scramble down the big chestnut tree. yes, sir. squirrel nutcracker forgot that chatterbox wanted to steal his nuts, and chatterbox forgot that he had been caught! and now that i come to think it over, perhaps that is the reason the little bunny laughed just before he opened his knapsack! i guess he knew how quickly those two little squirrels would forget everything when they saw a lemon lollypop! "now promise me one thing to-day, you little squirrels, red and gray, that you will quarrel nevermore nor steal a nut from any store. for he who steals will always end in having neither love nor friend." now don't you think it wonderful that the little rabbit could make up such lovely poetry? well, i do, but the two little squirrels thought what he does in the next story even more wonderful. but you must not impatient get, if mother says, it's growing late. just wait until another time, and kiss good-night your auntie kate. jimmy jay now just as i finished the last story little jack rabbit handed squirrel nutcracker and chatterbox each a lovely lemon lollypop. i would have told you that before, only i had no more room, so i had to wait. but it's a good thing the little squirrels didn't have to wait, isn't it? well, after the lemon lollypops were all gone, the little bunny went upon his way, hipperty hop, lipperty lop, until he saw jimmy jay on the old rail fence. now you know that jimmy jay is a very mischievous little bird. yes, sir, he certainly loves to tease. grandmother magpie is mischievous, too, but she's no worse than little jimmy jay. she does harm by meddling and jimmy jay by teasing. yes, it certainly is too bad that such a pretty bird as jimmy jay should cause so much trouble. why, his coat's as blue as the summer sky when mr. merry sun is shining at his best. "hip, hip, hurray, i'm jimmy jay, and i'm proud of my coat of blue. go on your way, i'm jimmy jay, i've no time to talk to you." "you're too fond of yourself, jimmy jay," said little jack rabbit, and he wiggled his pink nose till the little jay bird almost fell off the rail. you see, little jack rabbit had the habit of wiggling his nose so fast that it made everybody dizzy to look at it. "mother says it's not the clothes you wear that make you good; it's having a contented mind and doing what you should." then away hopped the little rabbit, leaving jimmy jay to think it over. perhaps it kept that mischievous little jay bird from looking at himself in the bubbling brook. or maybe it was because it was all frozen over with a thick coat of ice. well, anyway, the little rabbit hopped along for maybe a mile or maybe less, until he came to a little hole in snow, when, all of a sudden, out popped timmy meadowmouse. you see in the winter time, timmy meadowmouse makes little tunnels under the snow, and every once in a while, here and there, he climbs up a stiff stalk of grass and pokes out his head to look around. and wasn't he glad to see the little rabbit. well, i just guess he was. but if he had seen danny fox instead he wouldn't have been so pleased. no sireemam. and in the next story, if the little meadowmouse doesn't play hide-and-seek in the snow till that sly old fox comes around, i'll tell you what happened after this. the tip of a tail now let us see--oh, yes, i remember now. we left off just when little timmy meadowmouse poked his head up through the snow and said, "helloa!" "howdy, timmy meadowmouse, through the chimney of your house looking o'er the meadow white, glancing round from left to right, you might lose your woollen socks if 't weren't i, but danny fox," laughed little jack rabbit, kicking up his strong hind legs until a big snowball hit timmy meadowmouse, knocking the hat off his head into a snowbank. "look out! what are you doing," cried timmy meadowmouse. "that's the new hat mother gave me for xmas." pretty soon he began to laugh, too, for he's a merry little fellow and a good friend. "my, but it's lonely these long winter days," sighed the little bunny. "everybody's sound asleep in his winter home. only you and i and a few others are about," and the little rabbit sighed again, for what he says is true, let me tell you. for in the good old summer time 'most everybody's round, the feathered folk are in the trees, the furry on the ground. and all the sweet and verdant dells are ringing with the flower bells. "cheer up, little rabbit," said the merry little meadowmouse, "spring will soon be here. the buds on the trees are waiting for little miss south wind to open them," and after that the little meadowmouse disappeared into his tunnel and the little bunny hopped away, clipperty clip, over the snow till he came to the shady forest. and after he had gone in a little way, not so very far, he saw something that made his heart go pitter, pat. and what do you suppose it was? i'll give you three guesses and then i'll tell you. the footprints of danny fox. yes, sir! right there in the snow were the marks of that sly old fox's feet. little jack rabbit stopped right then and there to look about him. but danny fox was nowhere in sight, but that was no reason why he might not be, at that very moment, hiding behind a tree. the little rabbit looked again at the footprints in the snow. there they were, but, thank goodness! they led away, far away, into the shady forest. just then, all of a sudden, the miller's boy jumped out from behind a clump of bushes. "run! run!" screamed jimmy jay, who happened by just then. and the little rabbit did. he went so fast that his shadow couldn't keep up with him and neither could the miller's boy. but, oh, dear me! the miller's dog did. yes, sir! he kept so close that before he popped into the old bramble patch he caught the end of the little rabbit's tail. old barney owl well, i'm mighty glad the little rabbit lost only the fur tip to his tail. that was bad enough, but he forgot all about it the next morning when the squirrel brothers invited him over the 'phone to meet them at the shady forest pond. he spent no time at all getting out his skates, but his mother took two minutes and a half tying a woolen muffler around his neck. she knew, like all wise mothers, that it's lots more fun to skate when one is nice and warm. when he reached the pond the squirrel brothers were already there, skating merrily over the ice. busy beaver in his winter home below could hear them whirring along, cutting fancy figures in the ice, and calling merrily to one another. after a while, when the little rabbit and the squirrel brothers had grown tired of skating, they ran over to make a call on old barney owl, who lived in the big chestnut tree on a small island, right in the middle of the pond. although it was now pretty late in the afternoon, the old gentleman owl was still asleep, and when he opened the door, his eyes winked and blinked, and at first he didn't know them at all. in fact, he shut the door right in their faces. i suppose he thought they had knocked just to wake him up. perhaps they had, for when the door closed with a bang they all began to laugh. [illustration: little jack and the squirrel brothers skated merrily. _page_ 113] by and by featherhead knocked again, and when old barney owl opened it a second time, the naughty little squirrel said: "here is a nice fresh egg!" goodness me! when the old owl, whose eyes were still very blinky, found out it wasn't an egg, but a snowball, he dropped it on the little squirrel's head, and slammed the door again. now, if featherhead had only gone back to his skating, all would have been well. but he didn't. no, indeed. instead, he knocked again, and when the old owl opened the door, that naughty squirrel dropped a snowball down his collar. goodness gracious me! what a scuffle there was all at once, and, just like that! the old owl pulled the little squirrel into his house and closed the door. oh, what a scowl had mr. owl, and featherhead felt nearly dead. he was so scared at what he'd done he couldn't move his feet to run. and, goodness gracious! so would i have felt as if i'd surely die, if some big giant from his tree had through his doorway pulled poor me. from head to toe i'd surely quake, and feel my frightened heart would break. but now let's turn the page to see if ever featherhead gets free. "help! help!" little jack rabbit threw himself against the door as soon as it closed on featherhead. but old barney owl had fastened the latch and it wouldn't open. my! what a dreadful scuffling was going on inside. "open the door! open the door!" shouted the little rabbit, pounding on the wooden panels with his strong hind feet. but old barney owl paid no attention. maybe he had all he could do to hold featherhead. by and by it grew very quiet and twinkle tail peeped in through the keyhole, but he couldn't see anything. "oh, dear me!" cried little jack rabbit. "perhaps old barney owl has eaten featherhead!" poor twinkle tail's heart almost stopped beating. maybe it would have if he had known that the old owl had dragged his little brother squirrel upstairs by the tail. "snowballs and eggs! snowballs and eggs!" muttered old barney, shaking featherhead until his teeth rattled. "you little rascal! you thought i couldn't tell a snowball from an egg, eh?" and he gave the little squirrel another shake. "now i'm going to skin you and eat you for supper!" oh, dear me! how featherhead trembled when he heard that. just then there came a tremendous crash downstairs, and as the old owl looked over the railing, twinkle tail and little jack rabbit broke in the door. "help! help!" shouted featherhead. "rats and mice! rats and mice!" cried old barney owl, still keeping a tight hold on the little squirrel's tail. he knew there was going to be trouble, but he wasn't going to let his supper get away from him without a fight, let me tell you. no, siree. old barney owl was too hungry for that. but he changed his mind pretty quickly. yes, siree. when little jack rabbit let fly his hind feet, thumpty-thump, thumpty-thump! knocking the old owl head over heels, he changed his mind. he let go of featherhead, and before he could change it again there was nobody in the house except himself. gracious me! how the squirrel brothers scurried home. and the little rabbit lost no time, either. he went to bed early and in the middle of the night, when old barney owl went "hooty, toot!" he shivered and pulled the bedclothes up over his head. "toot, toot, hoot!" old barney plays his flute. it sounds so shivery in the dark, the firefly's tiny gleaming spark, goes out because the firefly is frightened by the old owl's cry. pumpkin place p. o. "little jack rabbit!" said his mother, the next morning, "run down to the post office and see if there's a letter for me." so the little rabbit put on his khaki cap and his little knapsack and started off, and by and by, after a while, he came to rabbitville, where the post office stood on the corner of pumpkin place and corn cob lane. "is there a letter for mrs. john rabbit, old bramble patch, rail fence corner, u. s. a.?" he asked the lady postmistress, an old maid grasshopper who worked for uncle sam in the winter and in the summer played in the wheat field. "i think there is," she said, looking in box 13, and, sure enough, there was. then she handed the letter to the little rabbit, and shut the door of the little window and after that she took out her vanity bag and powdered her nose. the little rabbit put the letter in his knapsack and started home, but just as he reached the shady forest, whom should he see but squirrel nutcracker. the old gray squirrel had come out of his hollow tree for a little run in the sun. you see, on cold days he curled himself up in a ball and kept very quiet, but on warm days he came out and jumped from limb to limb to get the cramps out of his leg muscles. "where are you going, little rabbit?" he asked, and then he took a nut out of his pocket and cracked it with his sharp teeth without a bit of trouble. "i've got a letter for mother," said little jack rabbit, "and i mustn't stop to talk to any one," and he hopped along as fast as he could, for he was afraid he might lose the letter, you see. well, pretty soon, not so very long, he came to the old bramble patch, and after he had given the letter to his mother he hopped out on the sunny meadow, and just then, all of a sudden, old professor jim crow flew by. he had his little black book under his wing, and as soon as he saw the little rabbit he lighted on a bush and turned to page 23. "let me read you something," he said, putting on his spectacles, and after he had cawed three times and a half he began: "little rabbits should take care to every morning comb their hair. they always should be clean and neat and keep their dispositions sweet." and then that wise old bird looked up over his spectacles and winked at the little rabbit. "did you comb your hair this morning?" he asked. and wasn't it lucky that little jack rabbit hadn't forgotten to? well, i just guess it was. an ice cream pine cone pretty soon it began to snow and soon the sunny meadow was just as white and smooth as mrs. rabbit's best table cloth, for the feathery snowflakes fell so softly you could almost hear the stillness. little jack rabbit opened his knapsack and pulled out his rubber boots. then he put on his ear muffs and his nice warm mittens and slung his knapsack over his back, but very carefully, for there were lots of nice things to eat in that knapsack. yes, siree. his kind mother always filled it up with cakes and sweets. i guess the little rabbit knew that very morning his dear mother had baked lettuce cakes, and how he did love lettuce cakes. yes, indeed he did, and so would you and so would i if we could only get one, i'm sure. well, after he had hopped along a little way, he began to sing, "three little bunnies a-sliding went on a winter's day, the ice was thin, and two fell in, and the third one ran away." "ha, ha!" cawed an old crow from a tree top, "that's a very fine song!" "well, if you think it's such a fine song, throw me down an ice cream pine cone," said the little rabbit. but the selfish old crow wanted it for himself, and instead threw down a snowball, which hit the little rabbit on the tip of his tail. the little rabbit wasn't going to stay there and have snowballs thrown at him. no, sireemam, he wasn't. and pretty soon, not so very far, he met jimmy mink creeping along by the old duck pond. "i have to be very careful these winter days," said the little mink. "everybody wants to wear fur in the winter time, you know, and if that dreadful miller's boy sees me, he might shoot me and sell my fur for a muff!" "they set traps for me," answered the little rabbit. "and danny fox and mr. wicked weasel are always after me. and hungry hawk, too. you're not the only one who has to look out for himself." then the little rabbit took a lovely lollypop out of his knapsack and gave it to jimmy mink, and asked him to make a visit at the old bramble patch. "i'll get uncle john to take us riding in his bunnysnowbile." this tickled the little mink almost to pieces, for he'd never ridden in a bunnysnowbile, and neither have i and neither have you, but perhaps some day we will if we happen to be around when mr. john hare comes by. and in the next book, if the smoke doesn't blow down our chimney and choke the cook so that she can't bake the biscuits for breakfast, i'll tell you more about little jack rabbit and his friends who live in bunnyville, u. s. a. the end little jack rabbit books (trademark registered.) by david cory colored wrapper and text illustrations drawn by h. s. barbour * * * * * printed in large type easy to read. for children from 3 to 8 years * * * * * a unique series, about the furred and feathered little people of the woods and meadows. little jack rabbit's adventures little jack rabbit is a jolly fellow, but he has to keep away from danny fox, wicked weasel and hungry hawk. little jack rabbit and danny fox many a hairbreadth escape has little jack rabbit from this old rascal, who lives on the woody hillside under a pile of rocks. little jack rabbit and the squirrel brothers mr. squirrel nutcracker's two boys are great friends of little jack, but old barney owl makes a lot of trouble for all three. little jack rabbit and chippy chipmunk little jack rabbit visits chippy chipmunk's store, but you should read about what happens to the sign over the door. little jack rabbit and the big brown bear the big brown bear is a particular friend of little jack rabbit. cosey cave, where he lives, is well stored with honey and lollypops. little jack rabbit and uncle john hare tells all about the bunnymobile, ragged rabbit giant and the rabbit fairies. little jack rabbit and professor crow professor crow, with his wisdom book, teaches little jack rabbit many interesting things. * * * * * grosset & dunlap, publishers, new york * * * * * little journeys to happyland (trademark registered) by david cory individual colored wrappers. profusely illustrated * * * * * =printed in large type--easy to read. for children from 4 to 8 years.= * * * * * a new series of exciting adventures by the author of little jack rabbit books. the happyland is reached by various routes: if you should happen to miss the iceberg express maybe you can take the magic soap bubble, or in case that has already left, the noah's ark may be waiting for you. this series is unique in that it deals with unusual and exciting adventures on land and sea and in the air. the cruise of the noah's ark this is a good rainy day story. on just such a day mr. noah invites marjorie to go for a trip in the noah's ark. she gets aboard just in time and away it floats out into the big wide world. the magic soap bubble the king of the gnomes has a magic pipe with which he blows a wonderful bubble and taking ed. with him they both have a delightful time in gnomeland. the iceberg express the mermaid's magic comb changes little mary louise into a mermaid. the polar bear porter on the iceberg express invites her to take a trip with him and away they go on a little journey to happyland. * * * * * grosset & dunlap, publishers, new york * * * * * happy jack by thornton w. burgess _with illustrations by harrison cady_ this book, while produced under wartime conditions, in full compliance with government regulations for the conservation of paper and other essential materials, is complete and unabridged. _1918,_ to dr. william t. hornaday to whom posterity will owe a debt of gratitude for his valiant fight to preserve american wild life, who has been a lifelong champion of happy jack squirrel, and to whom the author is deeply indebted for encouragement and assistance this book is gratefully dedicated contents i. happy jack drops a nut ii. the quarrel iii. striped chipmunk is kept very busy iv. happy jack and chatterer feel foolish v. happy jack suspects striped chipmunk vi. happy jack spies on striped chipmunk vii. striped chipmunk has fun with happy jack viii. happy jack turns burglar ix. happy jack squirrel's sad mistake x. striped chipmunk's happy thought xi. striped chipmunk's thanksgiving dinner xii. happy jack does some thinking xiii. happy jack gets a warning xiv. happy jack's run for life xv. who saved happy jack squirrel? xvi. happy jack misses farmer brown's boy xvii. tommy tit brings news xviii. happy jack decides to make a call xix. tommy tit and happy jack pay a visit xx. what was the matter with farmer brown's boy? xxi. happy jack squirrel grows very bold xxii. happy jack dares tommy tit xxiii. sammy jay is quite upset xxiv. a dream comes true xxv. happy jack has a happy thought xxvi. farmer brown's boy wakes with a start xxvii. happy jack is afraid to go home xxviii. happy jack finds a new home xxix. farmer brown's boy takes a prisoner xxx. a prisoner without fear xxxi. what farmer brown's boy did with shadow xxxii. happy jack is perfectly happy xxxiii. sammy jay upsets happy jack list of illustrations peter rabbit, who happened along just then, put his hands over his ears happy jack tried every trick he knew to get away from shadow the weasel "did you find out anything?" asked happy jack eagerly it wasn't long before shadow began to receive many visitors happy jack chapter i happy jack drops a nut save a little every day, and for the future put away. _happy jack._ happy jack squirrel sat on the tip of one of the highest branches of a big hickory tree. happy jack was up very early that morning. in fact, jolly, round, red mr. sun was still in his bed behind the purple hills when happy jack hopped briskly out of bed. he washed himself thoroughly and was ready for business by the time mr. sun began his climb up in the blue, blue sky. you see, happy jack had found that big hickory tree just loaded with nuts all ripe and ready to gather. he was quite sure that no one else had found that special tree, and he wanted to get all the nuts before any one else found out about them. so he was all ready and off he raced to the big tree just as soon as it was light enough to see. "the nuts that grow in the hickory tree- they're all for me! they're all for me!" happy jack was humming that little song as he rested for a few minutes 'way up in the top of the tree and wondered if his storehouse would hold all these big, fat nuts. just then he heard a great scolding a little way over in the green forest. happy jack stopped humming and listened. he knew that voice. it was his cousin's voice--the voice of chatterer the red squirrel. happy jack frowned. "i hope he won't come over this way," muttered happy jack. he does not love his cousin chatterer anyway, and then there was the big tree full of hickory nuts! he didn't want chatterer to find that. i am afraid that happy jack was selfish. there were more nuts than he could possibly eat in one winter, and yet he wasn't willing that his cousin, chatterer the red squirrel, should have a single one. now chatterer is short-tempered and a great scold. some one or something had upset him this morning, and he was scolding as fast as his tongue could go, as he came running right towards the tree in which happy jack was sitting. happy jack sat perfectly still and watched. he didn't move so much as the tip of his big gray tail. would chatterer go past and not see that big tree full of nuts? it looked very much as if he would, for he was so busy scolding that he wasn't paying much attention to other things. happy jack smiled as chatterer came running under the tree without once looking up. he was so tickled that he started to hug himself and didn't remember that he was holding a big, fat nut in his hands. of course he dropped it. where do you think it went? well, sir, it fell straight down, from the top of that tall tree, and it landed right on the head of chatterer the red squirrel! "my stars!" cried chatterer, stopping his scolding and his running together, and rubbing his head where the nut had hit him. then he looked up to see where it had come from. of course, he looked straight up at happy jack. "you did that purposely!" screamed chatterer, his short temper flaring up. "i didn't!" snapped happy jack. "you did!" "i didn't!" oh, dear, oh, dear, such a sight! two little squirrels, one in a gray suit and one in a red suit, contradicting each other and calling names! it was such a sad, sad sight, for you know they were cousins. chapter ii the quarrel it's up to you and up to me to see how thrifty we can be. to do our bit like soldiers true it's up to me and up to you. _happy jack._ two angry little people were making a dreadful noise in the green forest. it was a beautiful morning, a very beautiful fall morning, but all the beauty of it was being spoiled by the dreadful noise these two little people. you see they were quarreling. yes, sir, they were quarreling, and it wasn't at all nice to see or nice to hear. you know who they were. one was happy jack squirrel, who wears a coat of gray, and the other was chatterer the red squirrel, who always wears a red coat with vest of white. when happy jack had dropped that nut from the tiptop of the tall hickory tree and it had landed right on top of chatterer's head it really had been an accident. all the time happy jack had been sitting as still as still could be, hoping that his cousin chatterer would pass by without looking up and so seeing the big fat nuts in the top of that tree. you see happy jack was greedy and wanted all of them himself. now chatterer the red squirrel has a sharp temper, and also he has sharp eyes. all the time he was scolding happy jack and calling him names chatterer's bright eyes were taking note of all those big, fat hickory-nuts and his mouth began to water. without wasting any more time he started up the tree to get some. happy jack grew very angry, very angry indeed. he hurried down to meet chatterer the red squirrel and to prevent him climbing the tree. "you keep out of this tree; it's mine!" he shrieked. "no such thing! you don't own the tree and i've got just as much right here as you have!" screamed chatterer, dodging around to the other side of the tree. "'tis, too, mine! i found it first!" shouted happy jack. "you're a thief, so there!" "i'm not!" "you are!" "you're a pig, happy jack! you're just a great big pig!" "i'm not a pig! i found these nuts first and i tell you they're mine!" shrieked happy jack, so angry that every time he spoke he jerked his tail. and all the time he was chasing round and round the trunk of the tree trying to prevent chatterer getting up. now happy jack is ever so much bigger than his cousin chatterer but he isn't as spry. so in spite of him chatterer got past, and like a little red flash was up in the top of the tree where the big, fat nuts were. but he didn't have time to pick even one, for after him came happy jack so angry that chatterer knew that he would fare badly if happy jack should catch him. round and round, over and across, this way and that way, in the top of the tall hickory tree raced chatterer the red squirrel with his cousin, happy jack the gray squirrel, right at his heels, and calling him everything bad to be thought of. yes, indeed it was truly dreadful, and peter rabbit, who happened along just then, put his hands over his ears so as not to hear such a dreadful quarrel. [illustration: peter rabbit, who happened along just then, put his hands over his ears.] chapter iii striped chipmunk is kept very busy i prefer big acorns but i never refuse little ones. they fit in between. _happy jack._ striped chipmunk was sitting just inside a hollow log, studying about how he could fill up his new storehouse for the winter. striped chipmunk is very thrifty. he likes to play, and he is one of the merriest of all the little people who live on the green meadows or in the green forest. he lives right on the edge of both and knows everybody, and everybody knows him. almost every morning the merry little breezes of old mother west wind hurry over to have a frolic with him the very first thing. but though he dearly loves to play, he never lets play interfere with work. whatever he does, be it play or work, he does with all his might. "i love the sun; i love the rain; i love to work; i love to play. whatever it may bring to me i love each minute of each day." so said striped chipmunk, as he sat in the hollow log and studied how he could fill that splendid big new storehouse. pretty soon he pricked up his funny little ears. what was all that noise over in the green forest? striped chipmunk peeped out of the hollow log. over in the top of a tall hickory tree a terrible fuss was going on. striped chipmunk listened. he heard angry voices, such angry voices! they were the voices of his big cousins, happy jack the gray squirrel and chatterer the red squirrel. "dear me! dear me! how those two do quarrel! i must go over and see what it is all about," thought striped chipmunk. so, with a flirt of his funny, little tail, he scampered out of the hollow log and over to the tall hickory tree. he knew all about that tree. many, many times he had looked up at the big fat nuts in the top of it, watching them grow bigger and fatter, and hoping that when they grew ripe, old mother west wind would find time to shake them down to him. you know striped chipmunk is not much of a climber, and so he cannot go up and pick the nuts as do his big cousins, happy jack and chatterer. when he reached the tall hickory tree, what do you think was happening? why, those big, fat nuts were rattling down to the ground on every side, just as if old mother west wind was shaking the tree as hard as she could. but old mother west wind wasn't there at all. no, sir, there wasn't even one of the merry little breezes up in the tree-tops. the big fat nuts were rattling down just on account of the dreadful quarrel of striped chipmunk's two foolish cousins, happy jack and chatterer. it was all because happy jack was greedy. chatterer had climbed the tree, and now happy jack, who is bigger but not so spry, was chasing chatterer round and round and over the tree-top, and both were so angry that they didn't once notice that they were knocking down the very nuts over which they were quarreling. striped chipmunk didn't stop to listen to the quarrel. no, sir-ee! he stuffed a big fat nut in each pocket in his cheeks and scampered back to his splendid new storehouse as fast as his little legs would take him. back and forth, back and forth, scampered striped chipmunk, and all the time he was laughing inside and hoping his big cousins would keep right on quarreling. chapter iv happy jack and chatterer feel foolish if you get and spend a penny, then of course you haven't any. be like me--a happy jack- and put it where you'll get it back. _happy jack._ happy jack and chatterer were out of breath. happy jack was puffing and blowing, for he is big and fat, and it is not so easy for him to race about in the tree-tops as it is for his smaller, slim, nimble cousin, chatterer. so happy jack was the first to stop. he sat on a branch 'way up in the top of the tall hickory tree and glared across at chatterer, who sat on a branch on the other side of the tall tree. "couldn't catch me, could you, smarty?" taunted chatterer. "you just wait until i do! i'll make you sorry you ever came near my hickory tree," snapped happy jack. "i'm waiting. besides, it isn't your tree any more than it's mine," replied chatterer, and made a face at happy jack. happy jack hopped up as if he meant to begin the chase again, but he had a pain in his side from running so hard and so long, and so he sat down again. right down in his heart happy jack knew that chatterer was right, that the tree didn't belong to him any more than to his cousin. but when he thought of all those big, fat nuts with which the tall hickory tree had been loaded, greedy thoughts chased out all thoughts of right and he said to himself again, as he had said when he first saw his cousin, that chatterer shouldn't have _one_ of them. he stopped scolding long enough to steal a look at them, and then--what do you think happy jack did? why, he gave such a jump of surprise that he nearly lost his balance. not a nut was to be seen! happy jack blinked. then, he rubbed his eyes and looked again. he couldn't see a nut anywhere! there were the husks in which the nuts had grown big and fat until they were ripe, but now every husk was empty. chatterer saw the queer look on happy jack's face, and he looked too. now chatterer the red squirrel had very quick wits, and he guessed right away what had happened. he knew that while they had been quarreling and racing over the top of the tall hickory tree, they must have knocked down all the nuts, which were just ready to fall anyway. like a little red flash, chatterer started down the tree. then happy jack guessed too, and down he started as fast as he could go, crying, "stop, thief!" all the way. when he reached the ground, there was chatterer scurrying around and poking under the fallen leaves, but he hadn't found a single nut. happy jack couldn't stop to quarrel any more, because you see he was afraid that chatterer would find the biggest and fattest nuts, so he began to scurry around and hunt too. it was queer, very queer, how those nuts could have hidden so! they hunted and hunted, but no nuts were to be found. then they stopped and stared up at the top of the tall hickory tree. not a nut could they see. then they stared at each other, and gradually a foolish, a very foolish look crept over each face. "where--where do you suppose they have gone?" asked happy jack in a queer-sounding voice. just then they heard some one laughing fit to kill himself. it was peter rabbit. "did you take our hickory nuts?" they both shouted angrily. "no," replied peter, "no, i didn't take them, though they were not yours, anyway!" and then he went off into another fit of laughter, for peter had seen striped chipmunk very hard at work taking away those very nuts while his two big cousins had been quarreling in the tree-top. chapter v happy jack suspects striped chipmunk thrift is one test of true loyalty to your country. _happy jack._ happy jack didn't look happy a bit. indeed, happy jack looked very unhappy. you see, he looked just as he felt. he had set his heart on having all the big, fat nuts that he had found in the top of that tall hickory tree, and now, instead of having all of them, he hadn't any of them. worse still, he knew right down in his heart that it was his own fault. he had been too greedy. but what _had_ become of those nuts? happy jack was studying about this as he sat with his back against a big chestnut tree. he remembered how hard peter rabbit had laughed when happy jack and his cousin, chatterer the red squirrel, had been so surprised because they could not find the nuts they had knocked down. peter hadn't taken them, for peter has no use for them, but he must know what had become of them, for he was still laughing as he had gone off down the lone little path. while he was thinking of all this, happy jack's bright eyes had been wide open, as they usually are, so that no danger should come near. suddenly they saw something moving among the brown-and-yellow leaves on the ground. happy jack looked sharply, and then a sudden thought popped into his head. "hi, there, cousin chipmunk!" he shouted. "hi, there, your own self!" replied striped chipmunk, for it was he. "what are you doing down there?" asked happy jack. "looking for hickory nuts," replied striped chipmunk, and his eyes twinkled as he said it, for there wasn't a hickory tree near. happy jack looked hard at striped chipmunk, for that sudden thought which had popped into his head when he first saw striped chipmunk was growing into a strong, a very strong, suspicion that striped chipmunk knew something about those lost hickory nuts. but striped chipmunk looked back at him so innocently that happy jack didn't know just what to think. "have you begun to fill your storehouse for winter yet?" inquired happy jack. "of course i have. i don't mean to let jack frost catch me with an empty storehouse," replied striped chipmunk. "when leaves turn yellow, brown, and red, and nuts come pitter, patter down; when days are short and swiftly sped, and autumn wears her colored gown, i'm up before old mr. sun his nightcap has a chance to doff, and have my day's work well begun when others kick their bedclothes off." "what are you filling your storehouse with?" asked happy jack, trying not to show too much interest. "corn, nice ripe yellow corn, and seeds and acorns and chestnuts," answered striped chipmunk. "and now i'm looking for some big, fat hickory nuts," he added, and his bright eyes twinkled. "have you seen any, happy jack?" happy jack said that he hadn't seen any, and striped chipmunk remarked that he couldn't waste any more time talking, and scurried away. happy jack watched him go, a puzzled little frown puckering up his brows. "i believe he knows something about those nuts. i think i'll follow him and have a peep into his storehouse," he muttered. chapter vi happy jack spies on striped chipmunk it's more important to mind your own affairs than to know what your neighbors are doing, but not nearly so interesting. _happy jack._ striped chipmunk was whisking about among the brown-and-yellow leaves that covered the ground on the edge of the green forest. he is such a little fellow that he looked almost like a brown leaf himself, and when one of old mother west wind's merry little breezes whirled the brown leaves in a mad little dance around him, it was the hardest work in the world to see striped chipmunk at all. anyway, happy jack squirrel found it so. you see, happy jack was spying on striped chipmunk. yes, sir, happy jack was spying. spying, you know, is secretly watching other people and trying to find out what they are doing. it isn't a nice thing to do, not a bit nice. happy jack knew it, and all the time he was doing it, he was feeling very much ashamed of himself. but he said to himself that he just _had_ to know where striped chipmunk's storehouse was, because he just _had_ to peep inside and find out if it held any of the big, fat hickory nuts that had disappeared from under the tall hickory tree while he was quarreling up in the top of it with his cousin, chatterer the red squirrel. but spying on striped chipmunk isn't the easiest thing in the world. happy jack was finding it the hardest work he had ever undertaken. striped chipmunk is so spry, and whisks about so, that you need eyes all around your head to keep track of him. happy jack found that his two eyes, bright and quick as they are, couldn't keep that little elf of a cousin of his always in sight. every few minutes he would disappear and then bob up again in the most unexpected place and most provoking way. "now i'm here, and now i'm there! now i am not anywhere! watch me now, for here i go out of sight! i told you so!" with the last words, striped chipmunk was nowhere to be seen. it seemed as if the earth must have opened and swallowed him. but it hadn't, for two minutes later happy jack saw him flirting his funny little tail in the sauciest way as he scampered along an old log. happy jack began to suspect that striped chipmunk was just having fun with him. what else could he mean by saying such things? and yet happy jack was sure that striped chipmunk hadn't seen him, for, all the time he was watching, happy jack had taken the greatest care to keep hidden himself. no, it couldn't be, it just couldn't be that striped chipmunk knew that he was anywhere about. he would just be patient a little longer, and he would surely see that smart little cousin of his go to his storehouse. so happy jack waited and watched. chapter vii striped chipmunk has fun with happy jack thrift is the meat in the nut of success. _happy jack._ striped chipmunk would shout in his shrillest voice: "hipperty, hopperty, one, two, three! what do you think becomes of me?" then he would vanish from sight all in the wink of an eye. you couldn't tell where he went to. at least happy jack couldn't, and his eyes are sharper than yours or mine. happy jack was spying, you remember. he was watching striped chipmunk without letting striped chipmunk know it. at least he thought he was. but really he wasn't. those sharp twinkling eyes of striped chipmunk see everything. you know, he is such a very little fellow that he has to be very wide-awake to keep out of danger. and he _is_ wide-awake. oh, my, yes, indeed! when he is awake, and that is every minute of the daytime, he is the most wide-awake little fellow you ever did see. he had seen happy jack the very first thing, and he had guessed right away that happy jack was spying on him so as to find out if he had any of the big, fat hickory nuts. now striped chipmunk had _all_ of those fat hickory nuts safely hidden in his splendid new storehouse, but he didn't intend to let happy jack know it. so he just pretended not to see happy jack, or to know that he was anywhere near, but acted as if he was just going about his own business. really he was just having the best time ever fooling happy jack. "the corn is ripe; the nuts do fall; acorns are sweet and plump. i soon will have my storehouse full inside the hollow stump." striped chipmunk sang this just as if no one was anywhere near, and he was singing just for joy. of course happy jack heard it and he grinned. "so your storehouse is in a hollow stump, my smart little cousin!" said happy jack to himself. "if that's the case, i'll soon find it." striped chipmunk scurried along, and now he took pains to always keep in sight. happy jack followed, hiding behind the trees. pretty soon striped chipmunk picked up a plump acorn and put it in the pocket of his right cheek. then he picked up another and put that in the pocket in his left cheek. then he crowded another into each; and his face was swelled so that you would hardly have guessed that it was striped chipmunk if you had chanced to meet him. my, my, he was a funny sight! happy jack grinned again as he watched, partly because striped chipmunk looked so funny, and partly because he knew that if striped chipmunk was going to eat the acorns right away, he wouldn't stuff them into the pockets in his cheeks. but he had done this very thing, and so he must be going to take them to his storehouse. off scampered striped chipmunk, and after him stole happy jack, his eyes shining with excitement. pretty soon he saw an old stump which looked as if it must be hollow. happy jack grinned more than ever as he carefully hid himself and watched. striped chipmunk scrambled up on the old stump, looked this way and that way, as if to be sure that no one was watching him, then with a flirt of his funny little tail he darted into a little round doorway. he was gone a long time, but by and by out he popped, looked this way and that way, and then scampered off in the direction from which he had come. happy jack didn't try to follow him. he waited until he was sure that striped chipmunk was out of sight and hearing, and then he walked over to the old stump. "it's his storehouse fast enough," said happy jack. chapter viii happy jack turns burglar as trees from little acorns, so great sums from little pennies grow. _happy jack._ happy jack squirrel stood in front of the old stump into which he had seen striped chipmunk go with the pockets in his cheeks full of acorns, and out of which he had come with the pockets of his cheeks quite empty. "it certainly is his storehouse, and now i'll find out if he is the one who got all those big, fat hickory nuts," muttered happy jack. first he looked this way, and then he looked that way, to be sure that no one saw him, for what he was planning to do was a very dreadful thing, and he knew it. happy jack was going to turn burglar. a burglar, you know, is one who breaks into another's house or barn to steal, which is a very, very dreadful thing to do. yet this is just what happy jack squirrel was planning to do. he was going to get into that old stump, and if those big, fat hickory nuts were there, as he was sure they were, he was going to take them. he tried very hard to make himself believe that it wouldn't be stealing. he had watched those nuts in the top of the tall hickory tree so long that he had grown to think that they belonged to him. of course they didn't, but he had made himself think they did. happy jack walked all around the old stump, and then he climbed up on top of it. there was only one doorway, and that was the little round hole through which striped chipmunk had entered and then come out. it was too small for happy jack to even get his head through, though his cousin, chatterer the red squirrel, who is much smaller, could have slipped in easily. happy jack sniffed and sniffed. he could smell nuts and corn and other good things. my, how good they did smell! his eyes shone greedily. happy jack took one more hasty look around to see that no one was watching, then with his long sharp teeth he began to make the doorway larger. the wood was tough, but happy jack worked with might and main, for he wanted to get those nuts and get away before striped chipmunk should return, or any one else should happen along and see him. soon the hole was big enough for him to get his head inside. it was a storehouse, sure enough. happy jack worked harder than ever, and soon the hole was large enough for him to get wholly inside. what a sight! there was corn! and there were chestnuts and acorns! and there were a few hickory nuts, though these did not look so big and fat as the ones happy jack was looking for! happy jack chuckled to himself, a wicked, greedy chuckle, as he looked. and then something happened. "oh! oh! stop it! leave me alone!" yelled happy jack. chapter ix happy jack squirrel's sad mistake a squirrel always is thrifty. be as wise as a squirrel. _happy jack._ "let me go! let me go!" yelled happy jack, as he backed out of the hollow stump faster than he had gone in, a great deal faster. can you guess why? i'll tell you. it was because he was being pulled out. yes, sir, happy jack squirrel was being pulled out by his big, bushy tail. happy jack was more frightened than hurt. to be sure, it is not at all comfortable to have one's tail pulled, but happy jack wouldn't have minded this so much had it not been so unexpected, or if he could have seen who was pulling it. and then, right inside happy jack didn't feel a bit good. why? well, because he was doing a dreadful thing, and he _knew_ that it was a dreadful thing. he had broken into somebody's storehouse to steal. he was sure that it was striped chipmunk's storehouse, and he wouldn't admit to himself that he was going to steal, actually _steal_. but all the time, right down deep in his heart, he knew that if he took any of those hickory nuts it would be stealing. but happy jack had been careless. when he had made the doorway big enough for him to crawl inside, he had left his tail hanging outside. some one had very, very softly stolen up and grabbed it and begun to pull. it was so sudden and unexpected that happy jack yelled with fright. when he could get his wits together, he thought of course striped chipmunk had come back and was pulling his tail. when he thought that, he got over his fright right away, for striped chipmunk is such a little fellow that happy jack knew that he had nothing; to fear from him. so as fast as he could, happy jack backed out of the hole and whirled around. of course he expected to face a very angry little chipmunk. but he didn't. no, sir, he didn't. instead, he looked right into the angry face of his other cousin, chatterer the red squirrel. and chatterer _was_ angry! oh my, my, how angry chatterer was! for a minute he couldn't find his voice, because his anger fairly choked him. and when he did, how his tongue did fly! "you thief! you robber! what are you doing in my storehouse?" he shrieked. happy jack backed away hurriedly, for though he is much bigger than chatterer, he has a very wholesome respect for chatterer's sharp teeth, and when he is very angry, chatterer is a great fighter. "i--i didn't know it was your storehouse," said happy jack, backing away still further. "it doesn't make any difference if you didn't; you're a thief just the same!" screamed chatterer and rushed at happy jack. and what do you think happy jack did? why, he just turned tail and ran, chatterer after him, crying "thief! robber! coward!" at the top of his lungs, so that every one in the green forest could hear. chapter x striped chipmunk's happy thought waste seems to me a dreadful sin; it works to lose and not to win. thrift will win; it cannot lose. between them 'tis for you to choose. _happy jack._ striped chipmunk sat on a mossy old log, laughing until his sides ached. "ha, ha, ha! ho, ho, ho! oh, dear! oh, dear! ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!" laughed striped chipmunk, holding his sides. over in the green forest he could still hear chatterer the red squirrel crying "thief! robber!" as he chased his big cousin, happy jack, and every time he heard it, striped chipmunk laughed harder. you see, striped chipmunk had known all the time that happy jack was spying on him, and he had had no end of fun fooling happy jack by suddenly disappearing and then bobbing into view. he had known that happy jack was following him so as to find out where his storehouse was. then striped chipmunk had remembered the storehouse of chatterer the red squirrel. he had filled the pockets in his cheeks with acorns and gone straight over to chatterer's storehouse and put them inside, knowing that happy jack would follow him and would think that that was his storehouse. and that is just what happened. then striped chipmunk had hidden himself where he could see all that happened. he had seen happy jack look all around, to make sure that no one was near, and then tear open the little round doorway of chatterer's storehouse until it was big enough for him to squeeze through. he had seen chatterer come up, fly into a rage, and pull happy jack out by the tail. indeed, he had had to clap both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. then happy jack had turned tail and run away with chatterer after him, shouting "thief" and "robber" at the top of his voice, and this had tickled striped chipmunk still more, for he knew that chatterer himself is one of the greatest thieves in the green forest. so he sat on the mossy old log and laughed and laughed and laughed. finally striped chipmunk wiped the tears from his eyes and jumped up. "my, my, this will never do!" said he. "idle hands and idle feet never filled a storehouse yet; but instead, so i've heard say, into mischief surely get." "here it is almost thanksgiving and--" striped chipmunk stopped and scratched his head, while a funny little pleased look crept into his face. "i wonder if happy jack and chatterer would come to a thanksgiving dinner," he muttered. "i believe i'll ask them just for fun." then striped chipmunk hurried home full of his new idea and chuckled as he planned his thanksgiving dinner. of course he couldn't have it at his own house. that wouldn't do at all. in the first place, the doorway would be altogether too small for happy jack. anyway, his home was a secret, his very own secret, and he didn't propose to let happy jack and chatterer know where it was, even for a thanksgiving dinner. then he thought of the big, smooth, mossy log he had been sitting on that very morning. "the very place!" cried striped chipmunk, and scurried away to find happy jack squirrel and chatterer the red squirrel to invite them to his thanksgiving dinner. chapter xi striped chipmunk's thanksgiving dinner there's nothing quite so sweet in life as making up and ending strife. _happy jack._ striped chipmunk jumped out of bed very early thanksgiving morning. it was going to be a very busy day. he had invited happy jack the gray squirrel, and chatterer the red squirrel, to eat thanksgiving dinner with him, and each had promised to be there. striped chipmunk chuckled as he thought how neither of his guests knew that the other was to be there. he washed his face and hands, brushed his hair, and ate his breakfast. then he scurried over to his splendid new storehouse, which no one knew of but himself, and stuffed the pockets in his cheeks with good things to eat. when he couldn't stuff another thing in, he scurried over to the nice, mossy log on the edge of the green forest, and there he emptied his pockets, for that was to be his dining table. back and forth, back and forth between his secret storehouse and the smooth, mossy log hurried striped chipmunk. he knew that happy jack and the chatterer have great appetites, and he wanted to be sure that there was plenty of good things to eat. and as he scurried along, he sang a little song. "thanksgiving comes but once a year, but when it comes it brings good cheer. for in my storehouse on this day are piles of good things hid away. each day i've worked from early morn to gather acorns, nuts, and corn, till now i've plenty and to spare without a worry or a care. so light of heart the whole day long, i'll sing a glad thanksgiving song." promptly at the dinner hour happy jack appeared coming from one direction, and chatterer the red squirrel coming from another direction. they didn't see each other until just as they reached striped chipmunk's smooth, mossy log. then they stopped and scowled. striped chipmunk pretended not to notice anything wrong and bustled about, talking all the time as if his guests were the best of friends. on the smooth, mossy log was a great pile of shining yellow corn. there was another pile of plump ripe acorns, and three little piles of dainty looking brown seeds. but the thing that happy jack couldn't keep his eyes off was right in the middle. it was a huge pile of big, fat hickory nuts. now who could remain ill-tempered and cross with such a lot of goodies spread before him? certainly not happy jack or his cousin, chatterer the red squirrel. they just had to smile in spite of themselves, and when striped chipmunk urged them to sit down and help themselves, they did. in three minutes they were so busy eating that they had forgotten all about their quarrel and were laughing and chatting like the best of friends. "it's quite a family party, isn't it?" said striped chipmunk, for you know they are all cousins. whitefoot the wood mouse happened along, and striped chipmunk insisted that he should join the party. later sammy jay came along, and nothing would excuse him from sharing in the feast, too. when everybody had eaten and eaten until they couldn't hold another thing, and it was time to think of going home, striped chipmunk insisted that happy jack and chatterer should divide between them the big, fat hickory nuts that were left, and they did without once quarreling about it. "thanksgiving comes but once a year, and when it comes it brings good cheer," said striped chipmunk to himself as he watched his guests depart. chapter xii happy jack does some thinking to call another a thief doesn't make him one. _happy jack._ happy jack sat up in a chestnut tree, and his face was very sober. the fact is, happy jack was doing some very hard thinking. this is so very unusual for him that sammy jay stopped to ask if he was sick. you see he is naturally a happy-go-lucky little scamp, and that is one reason that he is called happy jack. but this morning he was thinking and thinking hard, so hard, in fact, that he almost lost his temper when sammy jay interrupted his thoughts with such a foolish question. what was he thinking about? can you not guess? why, he was thinking about those big, fat hickory nuts that striped chipmunk had had for his thanksgiving dinner, and how striped chipmunk had given him some of them to bring home. he was very sure that they were the very same nuts that he had watched grow big and fat in the top of the tall hickory tree and then had knocked down while chasing his cousin, chatterer. when they had reached the ground and found the nuts gone, happy jack had at once suspected that striped chipmunk had taken them, and now he felt sure about it. but all at once things looked very different to happy jack, and the more he thought about how he had acted, the more ashamed of himself he grew. "there certainly must have been enough of those nuts for all of us, and if i hadn't been so greedy we might all have had a share. as it is, i've got only those that striped chipmunk gave me, and chatterer has only those that striped chipmunk gave him. it must be that that sharp little cousin of mine with the striped coat has got the rest, and i guess he deserves them." then all of a sudden happy jack realized how striped chipmunk had fooled him into thinking that the storehouse of chatterer was his storehouse, and happy jack began to laugh. the more he thought of it, the harder he laughed. "the joke certainly is on me!" he exclaimed. "the joke certainly is on me, and it served me right. hereafter i'll mind my own business. if i had spent half as much time looking for hickory nuts as i did looking for striped chipmunk's storehouse, i would be ready for winter now, and chatterer couldn't call me a thief." then he laughed again as he thought how striped chipmunk must have enjoyed seeing him pulled out of chatterer's storehouse by the tail. "what's the joke?" asked bobby coon, who happened along just then. "i've just learned a lesson," replied happy jack. "what is it?" asked bobby. happy jack grinned as he answered: "i've found that greed will never, never pay. it makes one cross and ugly, and it drives one's friends away. and being always selfish and always wanting more, one's very apt to lose the things that one has had before." "pooh!" said bobby coon. "have you just found that out? i learned that a long time ago." chapter xiii happy jack gets a warning it matters not how smart you are, so be it you are heedless too. it isn't what you know that counts so much as what it is to you. _happy jack._ a fat gray squirrel is very tempting to a number of people in the green forest, particularly in winter, when getting a living is hard work. almost every day reddy and granny fox stole softly through that part of the green forest where happy jack squirrel lived, hoping to surprise and catch him on the ground. but they never did. roughleg the hawk and hooty the owl wasted a great deal of time, sitting around near happy jack's home, hoping to catch him when he was not watching, but they never did. happy jack knew all about these big hungry neighbors, and he was always on the watch for them. he knew their ways and just where they would be likely to hide. he took the greatest care to look into every such hiding place near at hand before he ventured down out of the trees, and because these hungry neighbors are so big, he never had any trouble in seeing them if they happened to be around. so happy jack didn't do much worrying about them. the fact is, happy jack wasn't afraid of them at all, for the simple reason that he knew they couldn't follow him into his hollow tree. having nuts stored away, he would have been perfectly happy but for one thing. yes, sir, there was only one thing to spoil happy jack's complete happiness, and that was the fear that shadow the weasel might take it into his head to pay him a visit. shadow can go through a smaller hole than happy jack can, and so happy jack knew that while he was wholly safe from his other enemies, he wasn't safe at all from shadow the weasel. and this worried him. yes, sir, it worried happy jack. he hadn't seen or heard of shadow for a long time, but he had a feeling that he was likely to turn up almost any time, especially now that everything was covered with snow and ice, and food was scarce and hard to get. he sometimes actually wished that he wasn't as fat as he was. then he would be less tempting to his hungry neighbors. but no good comes of worrying. no, sir, not a bit of good comes of worrying, and happy jack knows it. "all i can do is to watch out and not be careless," said he, and dropped the shell of a nut on the head of reddy fox, who happened to be passing under the tree in which happy jack was sitting. reddy looked up and showed his teeth angrily. happy jack laughed and scampered away through the tree-tops to another part of the green forest where he had some very secret stores of nuts. he was gone most of the day, and when he started back home he was in the best of spirits, for his stores had not been found by any one else. he was in such good spirits that for once he quite forgot shadow the weasel. he was just going to pop into his doorway without first looking inside, a very foolish thing to do, when he heard some one calling him. he turned to see tommy tit the chickadee hurrying towards him, and it was very clear that tommy was greatly excited. "hello, tommy tit! what ails you?" exclaimed happy jack. "don't go in there, happy jack!" cried tommy tit. "shadow the weasel is in there waiting for you!" happy jack turned quite pale. "are you sure?" he gasped. tommy tit nodded as if he would nod his head off. "i saw him go in, and he hasn't come out, for i've kept watch," said he. "you better get away from here before he knows you are about." that was good advice, but it was too late. even as tommy tit spoke, a sharp face with red, angry eyes was thrust out of happy jack's doorway. it was the face of shadow the weasel. chapter xiv. happy jack's run for life a coward he who runs away when he should stay and fight, but wise is he who knows when he should run with all his might. _happy jack._ it isn't cowardly to run away when it is quite useless to stay and fight. so it wasn't so cowardly of happy jack squirrel to turn tail and run the instant he caught sight of shadow the weasel. no, sir, it wasn't cowardly at all, although it might have looked so to you had you been there to see, for happy jack is bigger than shadow. but when it comes to a fight, happy jack is no match at all for shadow the weasel, and he knows it. shadow is too quick for him, and though happy jack were ever so brave, he would have no chance at all in a fight with shadow. and so the very instant he saw the cruel face of shadow with its fierce red eyes glaring at him from his own doorway, happy jack turned tail and ran. yes, sir, that is just what he did, and it was the wisest thing he could have done. he hoped with a mighty hope that shadow would not follow him, but he hoped in vain. shadow had made up his mind to dine on squirrel, and he didn't propose to see his dinner run away without trying to catch it. so the instant happy jack started, shadow started after him, stopping only long enough to snarl an ugly threat at tommy tit the chickadee, because tommy had warned happy jack that shadow was waiting for him. but tommy didn't mind that threat. oh, my, no! tommy didn't mind it at all. he can fly, and so he had no fear of shadow the weasel. but he was terribly afraid for happy jack. he knew, just as happy jack knew, that there wasn't a single place where happy jack could hide into which shadow could not follow him. so tommy flitted from tree to tree behind happy jack, hoping that in some way he might be able to help him. from tree to tree raced happy jack, making desperately long leaps. shadow the weasel followed, and though he ran swiftly, he didn't appear to be hurrying, and he took no chances on those long leaps. if the leap was too long to take safely, shadow simply ran back down the tree, across to the next one and up that. it didn't worry him at all that happy jack was so far ahead that he was out of sight. he knew that he could trust his nose to follow the scent of happy jack. in fact, it rather pleased him to have happy jack race away in such fright, for in that way he would soon tire himself out. and this is just what happy jack did do. he ran and jumped and jumped and ran as fast as he could until he was so out of breath that he just had to stop for a rest. but he couldn't rest much. he was too terribly frightened. he shivered and shook while he got his breath, and never for a second did he take his eyes from his back trail. presently he saw a slim white form darting along the snow straight towards the tree in which he was resting. once more happy jack ran, and somehow he felt terribly helpless and hopeless. he had to rest oftener now, and each rest was shorter than the one before, because, you know, shadow was a less and less distance behind. poor happy jack! he had tried every trick he knew, and not one of them had fooled shadow the weasel. now he was too tired to run much farther. the last little bit of hope left happy jack's heart. he blinked his eyes very fast to keep back the tears, as he thought that this was probably the last time he would ever look at the beautiful green forest he loved so. then he gritted his teeth and made up his mind that anyway he would fight his best, even if it was hopeless. it was just at that very minute that he heard the voice of tommy tit the chickadee calling to him in great excitement, and somehow, he didn't know why, a wee bit of hope sprang up in his heart. chapter xv who saved happy jack squirrel? blessed he whose words of cheer help put hope in place of fear. _happy jack._ it never has been fully decided among the little people of the green forest and the green meadows just who really did save happy jack squirrel. some say that tommy tit the chickadee deserves all the credit, and some say that--but wait. let me tell you just what happened, and then perhaps you can decide for yourself who saved happy jack. you see, it was this way: happy jack had run and run and run and tried every trick he knew to get away from shadow the weasel, but all in vain. at last he was so out of breath and so tired that he felt that he couldn't run any more. he had just made up his mind that he would wait right where he was for shadow and then put up the best fight he could, even if it was hopeless, when he heard tommy tit calling to him in great excitement. [illustration: happy jack tried every trick he knew to get away from shadow the weasel.] "dee, dee, chickadee! come here quick, happy jack! come here quick!" called tommy tit. a wee bit of hope sprang up in happy jack's heart. he couldn't imagine what possible help tommy tit could be, but he would go see. so taking a long breath he started on as fast as he could in the direction of tommy's voice. he couldn't run very fast, because, you know, he was so tired, but he did the best he could. presently he saw tommy just ahead of him flying about in great excitement. "dee, dee, dee, there he is! go to him! go to him, happy jack! hurry! hurry! dee, dee, dee, oh, do hurry!" cried tommy tit. for just a second happy jack didn't know what he meant. then he saw farmer brown's boy watching tommy tit as if he didn't know what to make of the little fellow's excitement. "go to him! go to him!" called tommy. "he won't hurt you, and he won't let shadow the weasel hurt you! see me! see me! dee, dee, see me!" and with that tommy tit flew right down on farmer brown's boy's hand, for you know he and farmer brown's boy are great friends. happy jack hesitated. he knew that farmer brown's boy had tried to make friends with him, and every day since the ice and snow had come had put out nuts and corn for him, but he couldn't quite forget the old fear of him. he couldn't quite trust him. so now he hesitated. then he looked back. shadow the weasel was only a few jumps behind him, and his little eyes glowed red and savage. farmer brown's boy might not hurt him, but shadow certainly would. shadow would kill him. happy jack made up his mind, and with a little gasp raced madly across the snow straight to farmer brown's boy and ran right up to his shoulder. shadow the weasel had been so intent on catching happy jack that he hadn't noticed farmer brown's boy at all. now he saw him for the first time and stopped short, snarling and spitting. whatever else you may say of shadow the weasel, he is no coward. for a minute it looked as if he really meant to follow happy jack and get him in spite of farmer brown's boy, and happy jack trembled as he looked down into those angry little red eyes. but shadow knows when he is well off, and now he knew better than to come a step nearer. so he snarled and spit, and then, as farmer brown's boy took a step forward, leaped to one side and disappeared in the old stone wall. very gently and softly farmer brown's boy talked to happy jack as he took him to the nearest tree. then, when happy jack was safely up in the tree, he went over to the stone wall and tried to drive shadow the weasel out. he pulled over the stones until at last shadow jumped out, and then farmer brown's boy chased him clear into the green forest. "dee, dee, dee, what did i tell you?" cried tommy tit happily, as he flew over to where happy jack was sitting. now who really saved happy jack--tommy tit or farmer brown's boy? chapter xvi happy jack misses farmer brown's boy one and one are always two, and two and two are four. and just as true it is you'll find that love and love make more. _happy jack._ go ask happy jack squirrel. he knows. he knows because he has proved it. it began when farmer brown's boy saved him from shadow the weasel. perhaps i should say when farmer brown's boy and tommy tit saved him, for if it hadn't been for tommy, it never would have entered happy jack's head to run to farmer brown's boy. after that, of course, happy jack and farmer brown's boy became great friends. farmer brown's boy came over to the green forest every day to see happy jack, and always he had the most delicious nuts in his pockets. at first happy jack had been a wee bit shy. he couldn't quite get over that old fear he had had so long. then he would remember how farmer brown's boy had saved him, and that would make him ashamed, and he would walk right up and take the nuts. farmer brown's boy would talk to him in the nicest way and tell him that he loved him, and that there wasn't the least thing in the world to be afraid of. pretty soon happy jack began to love farmer brown's boy a little. he couldn't help it. he just had to love any one who was so kind and gentle to him. now as soon as he began to love a little, and felt sure in his own heart that farmer brown's boy loved him a little, he found that love and love make more love, and it wasn't any time at all before he had become very fond of farmer brown's boy, so fond of him that he was almost jealous of tommy tit, who had been a friend of farmer brown's boy for a long time. it got so that happy jack looked forward each day to the visit of farmer brown's boy, and as soon as he heard his whistle, he would hasten to meet him. some folks were unkind enough to say that it was just because of the nuts and corn he was sure to find in farmer brown's boy's pockets, but that wasn't so at all. at last there came a day when he missed that cheery whistle. he waited and waited. at last he went clear to the edge of the green forest, but there was no whistle and no sign of farmer brown's boy. it was the same way the next day and the next. happy jack forgot to frisk about the way he usually does. he lost his appetite. he just sat around and moped. when tommy tit the chickadee came to call, as he did every day, happy jack found that tommy was anxious too. tommy had been up to farmer brown's dooryard several times, and he hadn't seen anything of farmer brown's boy. "i think he must have gone away," said tommy. "he would have come down here first and said good-by," replied happy jack. "you--you don't suppose something has happened to him, do you?" asked tommy. "i don't know. i don't know what to think," replied happy jack, soberly. "do you know, tommy, i've grown very fond of farmer brown's boy." "of course. dee, dee, dee, of course. everybody who really knows him is fond of him. i've said all along that he is the best friend we've got, but no one seemed to believe me. i'm glad you've found it out for yourself. i tell you what, i'll go up to his house and have another look around." and without waiting for a reply, tommy was off as fast as his little wings could take him. "i hope, i do hope, that nothing has happened to him," mumbled happy jack, as he pretended to hunt for buried nuts while he waited for tommy tit to come back, and by "him" he meant farmer brown's boy. chapter xvii tommy tit brings news no one knows too much, but many know too little. _happy jack._ happy jack very plainly was not happy. his name was the only happy thing about him. he fussed about on the edge of the green forest. he just couldn't keep still. when he thought anybody was looking, he pretended to hunt for some of the nuts he had buried in the fall, and dug holes down through the snow. but as soon as he thought that no one was watching, he would scamper up a tree where he could look over to farmer brown's house and look and look. it was very clear that happy jack was watching for some one and that he was anxious, very anxious, indeed. it was getting late in the afternoon, and soon the black shadows would begin to creep out from the purple hills, behind which jolly, round, red mr. sun would go to bed. it would be bedtime for happy jack then, for you know he goes to bed very early, just as soon as it begins to get dark. the later it got, the more anxious and uneasy happy jack grew. he had just made up his mind that in a few minutes he would have to give up and go to bed when there was a flit of tiny wings, and tommy tit the chickadee dropped into the tree beside him. "did you find out anything?" asked happy jack eagerly, before tommy had a chance to say a word. [illustration: "did you find out anything?" asked happy jack eagerly.] tommy nodded. "he's there!" he panted, for he was quite out of breath from hurrying so. "where?" happy jack fairly shouted the question. "over there in the house," replied tommy tit. "then he hasn't gone away! it's just as i said, he hasn't gone away!" cried happy jack, and he was so relieved that he jumped up and down and as a result nearly tumbled out of the tree. "no," replied tommy, "he hasn't gone away, but i think there is something the matter with him." happy jack grew very sober. "what makes you think so?" he demanded. "if you'll give me time to get my breath, i'll tell you all about it," retorted tommy tit. "all right, only please hurry," replied happy jack, and tried to look patient even if he wasn't. tommy tit smoothed out some rumpled feathers and was most provokingly slow about it. "when i left here," he began at last, "i flew straight up to farmer brown's house, as i said i would. i flew all around it, but all i saw was that horrid black pussy on the back doorsteps, and she looked at me so hungrily that she made me dreadfully uncomfortable. i don't see what farmer brown keeps her about for, anyway." "never mind her; go on!" interrupted happy jack. "then i flew all around the barn, but i didn't see any one there but that ugly little upstart, bully the english sparrow, and he wanted to pick a fight with me right away." tommy looked very indignant. "never mind him, go on!" cried happy jack impatiently. "after that i flew back to the big maple tree close by the house," continued tommy. "you know farmer brown's boy has kept a piece of suet tied in that tree all winter for me. i was hungry, and i thought i would get a bite to eat, but there wasn't any suet there. that pig of a sammy jay had managed to get it untied and had carried it all away. of course that made me angry, and twice as hungry as before. i was trying to make up my mind what to do next when i happened to look over on the window sill, and what do you think i saw there?" "what?" demanded happy jack eagerly. "a lot of cracked hickory nuts!" declared tommy. "i just knew that they were meant for me, and when i was sure that the way was clear, i flew over there. they tasted so good that i almost forgot about farmer brown's boy, when i just happened to look in the window. you know those windows are made of some queer stuff that looks like ice and isn't, and that you can see right through." happy jack didn't know, for he never had been near enough to see, but he nodded, and tommy tit went on. "there were many queer things inside, and i was wondering what they could be when all of a sudden i saw _him_. he was lying down, and there was something the matter with him. i tapped on the window to him and then i hurried back here." chapter xviii happy jack decides to make a call you'll find when all is said and done two heads are better far than one. _happy jack._ happy jack squirrel hadn't slept very well. he had had bad dreams. ever so many times in the night he had waked up, a very unusual thing for happy jack. the fact is, he had something on his mind. yes, sir, happy jack had something on his mind, and that something was farmer brown's boy. he often had had farmer brown's boy on his mind before, but in a very different way. then it had been in the days when farmer brown's boy hunted through the green forest and over the green meadows with his terrible gun. then everybody had farmer brown's boy on their minds most of the time. happy jack had hated him then, hated him because he had feared him. you know fear almost always leads to hate. but now it was different. farmer brown's boy had put away his terrible gun. happy jack no longer feared him. love had taken the place of hate in his heart, for had not farmer brown's boy saved him from shadow the weasel, and brought him nuts and corn when food was scarce? and now tommy tit had brought word that some thing was the matter with farmer brown's boy. it was this that was on happy jack's mind and had given him such a bad night. as soon as it was daylight, happy jack scrambled out of bed to look for tommy tit. he didn't have long to wait, for tommy is quite as early a riser as happy jack. "dee, dee, chickadee! i hope you feel as well as me!" sang tommy merrily, as he flitted over to where happy jack was looking for his breakfast. the very sound of tommy's voice made happy jack feel better. one must feel very badly indeed not to be a little more cheerful when tommy tit is about. the fact is, tommy tit packs about so much good cheer in that small person of his, that no one can be downhearted when he is about. "hello, tommy," said happy jack. "if i could make other people feel as good as you do, do you know what i would do?" "what?" asked tommy. "i'd go straight up to farmer brown's house and try to cheer up farmer brown's boy," replied happy jack. "that's the very thing i have in mind," chuckled tommy. "i've come over here to see if you won't come along with me. i've been up to his house so often that he won't think half so much of a visit from me as he will from you. will you do it?" happy jack looked a little startled. you see, he never had been over to farmer brown's house, and somehow he couldn't get over the idea that it would be a very dangerous thing to do. "i--i--do you really suppose i could?" he asked. "i'm sure of it," replied tommy tit. "there's no one to be afraid of but black pussy and bowser the hound, and it's easy enough to keep out of their way. you can hide in the old stone wall until the way is clear and then run across to the big maple tree close to the house. then you can look right in and see farmer brown's boy, and he can look out and see you. will you do it?" happy jack thought very hard for a few minutes. then he made up his mind. "i'll do it!" said he in a very decided tone of voice. "let's start right away." "good for you! dee, dee, good for you!" cried tommy tit, and started to lead the way. chapter xix tommy tit and happy jack pay a visit as grows the mighty elm tree, from just a tiny seed, so often great things happen from just a kindly deed. _happy jack._ great things were happening to happy jack squirrel. he was actually on his way to farmer brown's house, and he had a feeling that other things were likely to happen when he got there. now you may not think that it was anything very great that happy jack should be on his way to farmer brown's house. very likely you are saying, "pooh! that's nothing!" this may be true, and then again it may not. suppose you do a little supposing. suppose you had all your life been terribly afraid of a great giant fifty times bigger than you. suppose that great giant had stopped hunting you and by little deeds of kindness had at last won your love. suppose you learned that something was the matter with him, and you made up your mind to visit him at his great castle where there were other great giants whom you did not know. wouldn't you think that great things were happening to you? well, that is exactly the way it was with happy jack squirrel, as he and tommy tit the chickadee started to go over to farmer brown's house to look for farmer brown's boy. tommy tit had been there often, so he didn't think anything about it, but happy jack never had been there, and if the truth were known, his heart was going pitapat, pitapat, with excitement and perhaps just a little fear. through the old orchard they went, tommy tit flitting ahead and keeping a sharp watch for danger. when they reached the old stone wall on the edge of farmer brown's dooryard, tommy told happy jack to hide there while he went to see if the way was clear. he was back in a few minutes. "dee, dee, everything is all right," said he. "bowser the hound is eating; his breakfast out back where he can't see you at all, and black pussy is nowhere about. all you have to do is to follow me over to that big tree close to the house, and i will show you where farmer brown's boy is." "i--i'm afraid," confessed happy jack. "pooh! there's nothing to be afraid of," asserted tommy tit in the most positive way. "don't be a coward. remember how farmer brown's boy saved you from shadow the weasel. come on! dee, dee, dee, come on!" with that tommy flew across to the tree close by the house. happy jack scrambled up on the old stone wall and looked this way and looked that way. he couldn't see a thing to be afraid of. he jumped down and ran a few steps. then his heart failed, and he scampered back to the old stone wall in a panic. after a few minutes he tried again, and once more a foolish fear sent him back. the third time he gritted his teeth, said to himself over and over, "i will! i will! i will!" and ran with all his might. in no time at all he was across the dooryard and up in the big tree, his heart pounding with excitement. "dee, dee, dee," called tommy tit. happy jack looked over to the house, and there sat tommy on a window-sill, helping himself to the most delicious-looking cracked nuts. the sight of them made happy jack's mouth water. a long branch hung down over the window and almost touched the sill. happy jack ventured half way and stopped. somehow it seemed very dangerous to go so close to that window. "come on! come on! what are you afraid of?" called tommy. something like shame that such a little fellow as tommy tit should dare to go where he did not, crept into happy jack's heart. with a quick little run and jump he was on the sill, and a second later he was staring in at all the strange things inside. at first he didn't see anything of farmer brown's boy, but in a few minutes he made him out. he was lying down all covered over except his head. there _was_ something the matter with him. happy jack didn't need to be told that, and a great pity filled his heart. he wanted to do something for farmer brown's boy. chapter xx what was the matter with farmer brown's boy? he who climbs the highest has the farthest to fall, but often it is worth the risk. _happy jack._ all the way home from his visit to farmer brown's house happy jack squirrel puzzled and wondered over what he had seen. he had peeped in at a window and seen farmer brown's boy lying all covered up, with only his head showing. happy jack couldn't see very well, but somehow that head didn't look just right. one thing was sure, and that was there was something wrong with farmer brown's boy. he never would have been lying still like that if there hadn't been. happy jack had been so troubled by what he saw that he had hardly tasted the nuts he had found on the window-sill. "i am going to make him another call to-morrow," said he when he and tommy tit were once more back in the green forest. "of course," replied tommy. "i expected you would. i will be around for you at the same time. you're not afraid any more to go up there, are you?" "no-o," replied happy jack, slowly. the truth is, he was still a little afraid. it seemed to him a terribly venturesome thing to cross that open dooryard, but having done it once in safety, he knew that it would be easier the next time. it was. the next morning he and tommy tit went just as before, and this time happy jack scampered across the dooryard the very first time he tried. they found things just as they had been the day before. they saw farmer brown's boy, but he didn't see them. tommy tit was just going to tap on the window to let him know they were there, when a door inside opened, and in walked mrs. brown. it frightened them so that tommy tit flew away without tasting a single nut, and happy jack nearly fell as he scrambled back into the tree close by the window. you see, they never had made her acquaintance, and having her walk in so suddenly frightened them terribly. they didn't stop to think that there was nothing to fear because there was the window between. somehow they couldn't understand that queer stuff that they could see through but which shut them out. if they had seen mrs. brown go to the window and put more cracked nuts on the sill, perhaps they would have been less afraid. but they had been too badly frightened to look back, and so they didn't know anything about that. the next morning tommy tit was on hand as usual, but he found happy jack a little doubtful about paying another visit. he wasn't wholly over his scare of the day before. it took him some time to make up his mind to go, but finally he did. this time when they reached the tree close by the house, they found a great surprise awaiting them. farmer brown's boy was sitting just inside the window, looking out. at least, they thought it was farmer brown's boy, but when they got a little nearer, they grew doubtful. it looked like farmer brown's boy, and yet it didn't. his cheeks stuck way out just as striped chipmunk's do when he has them stuffed full of corn or nuts. happy jack stared at him very hard. "my goodness, i didn't know he carried his food that way!" he exclaimed. "i should think it would be dreadfully uncomfortable." if farmer brown's boy could have heard that, he certainly would have tried to laugh, and if he had--well, it was bad enough when he tried to smile at the sight of tommy tit and happy jack. he didn't smile at all but made up an awful face instead and clapped both hands to his cheeks. happy jack and tommy tit didn't know what to make of it, and it was some time before they made up their minds that it really was farmer brown's boy, and that they had nothing to fear. but when they finally ventured on to the sill and, as they helped themselves to nuts, saw the smile in his eyes, though he did not smile with his mouth at all, they knew that it was he, and that he was glad that they had called. then they were glad too. but what was the matter with farmer brown's boy? happy jack puzzled over it all the rest of the day, and then gave it up. chapter xxi happy jack squirrel grows very bold when you find a friend in trouble pass along a word of cheer. often it is very helpful just to feel a friend is near. _happy jack._ every day happy jack visited the window sill of farmer brown's house to call on farmer brown's boy, who was always waiting for him just inside the window. in fact happy jack had got into the habit of getting his breakfast there, for always there were fat, delicious nuts on the window-sill, and it was much easier and more comfortable to breakfast there than to hunt up his own hidden supplies and perhaps have to dig down through the snow to get them. most people are just like happy jack--they do the easiest thing. each day farmer brown's boy looked more and more like himself. his cheeks stuck out less and less, and finally did not stick out at all. and now he smiled at happy jack with his mouth as well as with his eyes. you know when his cheeks had stuck out so, he couldn't smile at all except with his eyes. happy jack didn't know what had been the matter with farmer brown's boy, but whatever it was, he was better now, and that made happy jack feel better. one morning he got a surprise. when he ran out along the branch of the tree that led to the window-sill he suddenly discovered something wrong. there were no nuts on the sill! more than this there was something very suspicious looking about the window. it didn't look just right. the truth is it was partly open, but happy jack didn't understand this, not then, anyway. he stopped short and scolded, a way he has when things don't suit him. farmer brown's boy came to the window and called to him. then he thrust a hand out, and in it were some of the fattest nuts happy jack ever had seen. his mouth watered right away. there might be something wrong with the window, but certainly the sill was all right. it would do no harm to go that far. so happy jack nimbly jumped across to the window-sill. farmer brown's boy's hand with the fat nuts was still there, and happy jack lost no time in getting one. then he sat up on the sill to eat it. my, but it was good! it was just as good as it had looked. happy jack's eyes twinkled as he ate. when he had finished that nut, he wanted another. but now farmer brown's boy had drawn his hand inside the window. he was still holding it out with the nuts in it, but to get them happy jack must go inside, and he couldn't get it out of his head that that was a very dangerous thing to do. what if that window should be closed while he was in there? then he would be a prisoner. so he sat up and begged. he knew that farmer brown's boy knew what he wanted. but farmer brown's boy kept his hand just where it was. "come on, you little rascal," said he. "you ought to know me well enough by this time to know that i won't hurt you or let any harm come to you. hurry up, because i can't stand here all day. you see, i've just got over the mumps, and if i should catch cold i might be sick again. come along now, and show how brave you are." of course happy jack couldn't understand what he said. if he could have, he might have guessed that it was the mumps that had made farmer brown's boy look so like striped chipmunk when he has his cheeks stuffed with nuts. but if he couldn't understand what farmer brown's boy said, he had no difficulty in understanding that if he wanted those nuts he would have to go after them. so at last he screwed up his courage and put his head inside. nothing happened, so he went wholly in and sat on the inside sill. then by reaching out as far as he could without tumbling off, he managed to get one of those nuts, and as soon as he had it, he dodged outside to eat it. farmer brown's boy laughed, and putting the rest of the nuts outside, he closed the window. happy jack ate his fill and then scampered back to the green forest. he felt all puffed up with pride. he felt that he had been very, very bold, and he was anxious to tell tommy tit the chickadee, who had not been with him that morning, how bold he had been. "pooh, that's nothing!" replied tommy, when he had heard about it. "i've done that often." chapter xxii happy jack dares tommy tit a wise philosopher is he who takes things as they chance to be, and in them sees that which is best while trying to forget the rest. _happy jack._ somehow happy jack's day had been spoiled. he knew that he had no business to allow it to be spoiled, but it was, just the same. you see, he had been all puffed up with pride because he thought himself a very bold fellow because he had really been inside farmer brown's house. he couldn't help feeling quite puffed up about it. but when he told tommy tit the chickadee about it, tommy had said, "pooh! i've done that often." that was what had spoiled the day for happy jack. he knew that if tommy tit said that he had done a thing, he had, for tommy always tells the truth and nothing but the truth. so happy jack hadn't been so dreadfully bold, after all, and had nothing to brag about. it made him feel quite put out. he actually tried to make himself feel that it was all the fault of tommy tit, and that he wanted to get even with him. he thought about it all the rest of the day, and just before he fell asleep that night an idea came to him. "i know what i'll do! i'll dare tommy to go as far inside farmer brown's house as i do!" he exclaimed, and went to sleep to dream that he was the boldest, bravest squirrel that ever lived. the next morning when he reached the tree close by farmer brown's house, he found tommy tit already there, flitting about impatiently and calling his loudest, which wasn't very loud, for you know tommy is a very little fellow, and his voice is not very loud. but he was doing his best to call farmer brown's boy. you see, there wasn't a single nut on the window-sill, and the window was closed. pretty soon farmer brown's boy came to the window and opened it. but he didn't put out any nuts. tommy tit at once flew over to the sill, and to show that he was just as bold, happy jack followed. looking inside, they saw farmer brown's boy standing in the middle of the room, holding out a dish of nuts and smiling at them. this was the chance happy jack wanted to try the plan he had thought of the night before. "i dare you to go way in there and get a nut," said he to tommy tit. he hoped that tommy would be afraid. but tommy wasn't anything of the kind. "dee, dee, dee! come on!" he cried, and flitted over and helped himself to a cracked nut and was back with it before happy jack could make up his mind to jump down inside. of course now that he had dared tommy tit, and tommy had taken the dare, he just had to do it too. it looked a long way in to where farmer brown's boy was standing. twice he started and turned back. then he heard tommy tit chuckle. that was too much. he wouldn't be laughed at. he just wouldn't. he scampered across, grabbed a nut, and rushed back to the window-sill, where he ate the nut. it was easier to go after the second nut, and when he went for the third, he had made up his mind that it was perfectly safe in there, and so he sat up on a chair and ate it. presently he felt quite at home, and when he had eaten all the nuts he wanted, he ran all around the room, examining all the strange things there. this was a little more than tommy tit could make up his mind to do. he wasn't afraid to fly in for a nut and then fly out again, but he couldn't feel easy inside a house like that. of course, this made happy jack feel good all over. you see, he felt that now he really did have something to boast about. no one else in all the green forest or on the green meadows could say that they had been all over farmer brown's boy's room as he had. happy jack swelled himself out at the thought. now everybody would say, "what a bold fellow!" chapter xxiii sammy jay is quite upset i know of nothing sweeter than success to squirrel or to man. _happy jack._ very few people can be all puffed up with pride without showing it. happy jack squirrel couldn't. just to have looked at him you would have known that he was feeling very, very good about something. when he thought no one was looking, he would actually strut. and it was all because he considered himself a very bold fellow. that was a new feeling for happy jack. he knew that all his neighbors considered him rather timid, and many a time he had envied, actually envied jimmy skunk and reddy fox and unc' billy possum and even sammy jay because they did such bold things and had dared to visit farmer brown's dooryard and henhouse in spite of bowser the hound. but now he felt that he dared do a thing that not one of them dared do. he dared go right into farmer brown's house and make himself quite at home in the room of farmer brown's boy. he felt that he was a tremendously brave fellow. you see, he quite forgot one thing. he forgot that he had found out that love destroys fear, and that though it might look to others like a very bold thing to walk right into farmer brown's house, it really wasn't bold at all, because all the time he _knew_ that no harm would come to him. it is never brave to do a thing that you are not afraid to do. it had been brave of him to go in at that open window the first time, because then he had been afraid, but now he wasn't afraid, and so it was no longer either brave or bold of him. tommy tit the chickadee knew all this, and he used to chuckle to himself as he saw how proud of himself happy jack was, but he said nothing to any one about it. of course, it wasn't long before others began to notice happy jack's pride. one of the first was sammy jay. there is very little that escapes sammy jay's sharp eyes. silently stealing through the green forest early one morning, he surprised happy jack strutting. "huh," said he, "what are you feeling so big about?" like a flash the thought came to happy jack that here was a chance to show what a bold fellow he had become. "hello, sammy!" he exclaimed. "are you feeling very brave this morning?" "me feeling brave? what are you talking about? if i was as timid as you are, i wouldn't ever talk about bravery to other people. if there is anything you dare to do that i don't, i've never heard of it," retorted sammy jay. "come on!" cried happy jack. "i'm going to get my breakfast, and i dare you to follow me!" sammy jay actually laughed right out. "go ahead. wherever you go, i'll go," he declared. happy jack started right away for farmer brown's house, and sammy followed. through the old orchard, across the dooryard and into the big maple tree happy jack led the way, and sammy followed, all the time wondering what was up. he had been there many times. in fact, he had had many a good meal of suet there during the cold weather, for farmer brown's boy had kept a big piece tied to a branch of the maple tree for those who were hungry. sammy was a little surprised when he saw happy jack jump over on to the window-sill. still, he had been on that window-sill more than once himself, when he had made sure that no one was near, and had helped himself to the cracked nuts he had found there. "come on!" called happy jack, his eyes twinkling. sammy jay chuckled. "he thinks i don't dare go over there," he thought. "well, i'll fool him." with a hasty look to see that no danger was near, he spread his wings to follow happy jack on to the window-sill. happy jack waited to make sure that he really was coming and then slipped in at the open window and scampered over to a table on the farther side of the room and helped himself from a dish of nuts there. when sammy saw happy jack disappear inside he gave a little gasp. when he looked inside and saw happy jack making himself quite at home, he gasped again. and when he saw a door open and farmer brown's boy enter, and still happy jack did not run, he was too upset for words. he didn't dare stay to see more, and for once in his life was quite speechless as he flew back to the green forest. chapter xxiv a dream comes true what are all our dreams made up of that they often are so queer? wishes, hopes, and fond desires all mixed up with foolish fears. _happy jack._ which is worse, to have a very beautiful dream never come true, or to have a bad dream really come true? happy jack squirrel says the latter is worse, much worse. dreams do come true once in a great while, you know. one of happy jack's did. it came true, and it made a great difference in happy jack's life. you see, it was like this: happy jack had had so many things to think of that he had almost forgotten about shadow the weasel. happy jack hadn't seen or heard anything of him since farmer brown's boy had chased him into the green forest and so saved happy jack's life. since then life had been too full of pleasant things to think of anything so unpleasant as shadow the weasel. but one night happy jack had a bad dream. yes, sir, it was a very bad dream. he dreamed that once more shadow the weasel was after him, and this time there was no farmer brown's boy to run to for help. shadow was right at his heels and in one more jump would have him. happy jack opened his mouth to scream, and--awoke. he was all ashake with fright. it was a great relief to find that it was only a dream, but even then he couldn't get over it right away. he was glad that it was almost morning, and just as soon as it was light enough to see, he crept out. it was too early to go over to farmer brown's house; farmer brown's boy wouldn't be up yet. so happy jack ran over to one of his favorite lookouts, a tall chestnut tree, and there, with his back against the trunk, high above the ground, he watched the green forest wake as the first sunbeams stole through it. but all the time he kept thinking of that dreadful dream. a little spot of black moving against the white snow caught his sharp eyes. what was it? he leaned forward and held his breath, as he tried to make sure. ah, now he could see! just ahead of that black thing was a long, slim fellow all in white, and that black spot was his tail. if it hadn't been for that, happy jack very likely wouldn't have seen him at all. it was shadow the weasel! he was running swiftly, first to one side and then to the other, with his nose to the snow. he was hunting. there was no doubt about that. he was hunting for his breakfast. happy jack's eyes grew wide with fear. would shadow find his tracks? it looked very much as if shadow was heading for happy jack's house, and happy jack was glad, very glad, that that bad dream had waked him and made him so uneasy that he had come out. otherwise he might have been caught right in his own bed. shadow was almost at happy jack's house when he stopped abruptly with his nose to the snow and sniffed eagerly. then he turned, and with his nose to the snow, started straight toward the tree where happy jack was. happy jack waited to see no more. he knew now that shadow had found his trail and that it was to be a case of run for his life. "my dream has come true!" he sobbed as he ran. "my dream has come true, and i don't know what to do!" but all the time he kept on running as fast as ever he could, which really was the only thing to do. chapter xxv happy jack has a happy thought who runs when danger comes his way will live to run some other day. _happy jack._ frightened and breathless, running with all his might from shadow the weasel, happy jack squirrel was in despair. he didn't know what to do or where to go. the last time he had run from shadow he had run to farmer brown's boy, who had just happened to be near, and farmer brown's boy had chased shadow the weasel away. but now it was too early in the morning for him to expect to meet farmer brown's boy. in fact, jolly, round, red mr. sun had hardly kicked his bedclothes off yet, and happy jack was very sure that farmer brown's boy was still asleep. now most of us are creatures of habit. we do the thing that we have been in the habit of doing, and do it without thinking anything about it. that is why good habits are such a blessing. happy jack squirrel is just like the rest of us. he has habits, both good and bad. of late, he had been in the habit of getting his breakfast at farmer brown's house every morning, so now when he began to run from shadow the weasel he just naturally ran in the direction of farmer brown's house from force of habit. in fact, he was halfway there before he realized in which direction he was running. right then a thought came to him. it gave him a wee bit of hope, and seemed to help him run just a little faster. if the window of farmer brown's boy's room was open, he would run in there, and perhaps shadow the weasel wouldn't dare follow! how he did hope that that window would be open! he knew that it was his only chance. he wasn't quite sure that it really was a chance, for shadow was such a bold fellow that he might not be afraid to follow him right in, but it was worth trying. along the stone wall beside the old orchard raced happy jack to the dooryard of farmer brown, and after him ran shadow the weasel, and shadow looked as if he was enjoying himself. no doubt he was. he knew just as well as happy jack did that there was small chance of meeting farmer brown's boy so early in the morning, so he felt very sure how that chase was going to end, and that when it did end he would breakfast on squirrel. by the time happy jack reached the dooryard, shadow was only a few jumps behind him, and happy jack was pretty well out of breath. he didn't stop to look to see if the way was clear. there wasn't time for that. besides, there could be no greater danger in front than was almost at his heels, and so, without looking one way or another, he scampered across the dooryard and up the big maple tree close to the house. shadow the weasel was surprised. he had not dreamed that happy jack would come over here. but shadow is a bold fellow, and it made little difference to him where happy jack went. at least, that is what he thought. so he followed happy jack across the dooryard and up the maple tree. he took his time about it, for he knew by the way happy jack had run that he was pretty nearly at the end of his strength. "he never'll get out of this tree," thought shadow, as he started to climb it. he fully expected to find happy jack huddled in a miserable little heap somewhere near the top. just imagine how surprised he was when he discovered that happy jack wasn't to be seen. he rubbed his angry little red eyes, and they grew angrier and redder than before. "must be a hollow up here somewhere," he muttered. "i'll just follow the scent of his feet, and that will lead me to him." but when that scent led him out on a branch the tip of which brushed against farmer brown's house shadow got another surprise. there was no sign of happy jack. he couldn't have reached the roof. there was no place he could have gone unless--. shadow stared across at a window open about two inches. "he couldn't have!" muttered shadow. "he wouldn't dare. he couldn't have!" but happy jack had. he had gone inside that window. chapter xxvi farmer brown's boy wakes with a start never think another crazy just because it happens you never've heard of just the thing that they have started out to do. _happy jack._ isn't it queer how hard it seems to be for some boys to go to bed at the proper time and how much harder it is for them to get up in the morning? it was just so with farmer brown's boy. i suppose he wouldn't have been a real boy if it hadn't been so. of course, while he was sick with the mumps, he didn't have to get up, and while he was getting over the mumps his mother let him sleep as long as he wanted to in the morning. that was very nice, but it made it all the harder to get up when he should after he was well again. in summer it wasn't so bad getting up early, but in winter--well, that was the one thing about winter that farmer brown's boy didn't like. on this particular morning farmer brown had called him, and he had replied with a sleepy "all right." and then had rolled over and promptly gone to sleep again. in two minutes he was dreaming just as if there were no such things as duties to be done. for a while they were very pleasant dreams, very pleasant indeed. but suddenly they changed. a terrible monster was chasing him. it had great red eyes as big as saucers, and sparks of fire flew from its mouth. it had great claws as big as ice tongs, and it roared like a lion. in his dream farmer brown's boy was running with all his might. then he tripped and fell, and somehow he couldn't get up again. the terrible monster came nearer and nearer. farmer brown's boy tried to scream and couldn't. he was so frightened that he had lost his voice. the terrible monster was right over him now and reached out one of his huge paws with the great claws. one of them touched him on the cheek, and it burned like fire. with a yell, a real, genuine yell, farmer brown's boy awoke and sprang out of bed. for a minute he couldn't think where he was. then with a sigh of relief he realized that he was safe in his own snug little room with the first jolly little sunbeam creeping in at the window to wish him good morning and chide him for being such a lazy fellow. a thump and a scurry of little feet caught his attention, and he turned to see a gray squirrel running for the open window. it jumped up on the sill, looked out, then jumped down inside again, and ran over to a corner of the room, where he crouched as if in great fear. it was clear that he had been badly frightened by the yell of farmer brown's boy, and that he was still more frightened by something he had seen when he looked out of the window. a great light broke over farmer brown's boy. "happy jack, you little rascal, i believe you are the terrible monster that scared me so!" he exclaimed. "i believe you were on my bed, and that it was your claws that i felt on my face. but what ails you? you look frightened almost to death." he went over to the window and looked out. a movement in the big maple tree just outside caught his attention. he saw a long, slim white form dart down the tree and disappear. he knew who it was. it was shadow the weasel. "so that pesky weasel has been after you again, and you came to me for help," said he gently, as he coaxed happy jack to come to him. "this is the place to come to every time. poor little chap, you're all of a tremble. i guess i know how you feel when a weasel is after you. i guess you feel just as i felt when i dreamed that that monster was after me. my, but you certainly did give me a scare when you touched my face!" he gently stroked happy jack as he talked, and happy jack let him. "breakfast!" called a voice from downstairs. "coming!" replied farmer brown's boy as he put happy jack on the table by a dish of nuts and began to scramble into his clothes. chapter xxvii happy jack is afraid to go home safety first is the best rule to insure a long life. _happy jack._ happy jack didn't dare go home. can you think of anything more dreadful than to be afraid to go to your own home? why, home is the dearest place in the world, and it should be the safest. just think how you would feel if you should be away from home, and then you should learn that it wouldn't be safe for you to go back there again, and you had no other place to go. it often happens that way with the little people of the green meadows and the green forest. it was that way with happy jack squirrel now. you see, happy jack knew that shadow the weasel is not one to give up easily. shadow has one very good trait, and that is persistence. he is not easily discouraged. when he sets out to do a thing, usually he does it. if he starts to get a thing, usually he gets it. no, he isn't easily discouraged. happy jack knows this. no one knows it better. so happy jack didn't dare to go home. he knew that any minute of night or day shadow might surprise him there, and that would be the end of him. he more than half suspected that shadow was at that very time hiding somewhere along the way ready to spring out on him if he should try to go back home. he had stayed in the room of farmer brown's boy until mrs. brown had come to make the bed. then he had jumped out the window into the big maple tree. he wasn't quite sure of mrs. brown yet. she had kindly eyes. they were just like the eyes of farmer brown's boy. but he didn't feel really acquainted yet, and he felt safer outside than inside the room while she was there. "oh dear, oh dear! what shall i do? i have no home, and so to keep me warm and snug and safe i have no place to go!" happy jack said this over and over as he sat in the maple tree, trying to decide what was to be done. "i wonder what ails that squirrel. he seems to be doing a lot of scolding," said mrs. brown, as she looked out of the window. and that shows how easy it is to misunderstand people when we don't know all about their affairs. mrs. brown thought that happy jack was scolding, when all the time he was just frightened and worried and wondering where he could go and what he could do to feel safe from shadow the weasel. because he didn't dare to go back to the green forest, he spent most of the day in the big maple tree close to farmer brown's house. the window had been closed, so he couldn't go inside. he looked at it longingly a great many times during the day, hoping that he would find it open. but he didn't. you see, it was opened only at night when farmer brown's boy went to bed, so that he would have plenty of fresh air all night. of course happy jack didn't know that. all his life he had had plenty of fresh air all the time, and be couldn't understand how people could live in houses all shut up. late that afternoon farmer brown's boy, who had been at school all day, came whistling into the yard. he noticed happy jack right away. "hello! you back again! isn't one good meal a day enough?" he exclaimed. "he's been there all day," said his mother, who had come to the door just in time to overhear him. "i don't know what ails him." then farmer brown's boy noticed how forlorn happy jack looked. he remembered happy jack's fright that morning. "i know what's the matter!" he cried. "it's that weasel. the poor little chap is afraid to go home. we must see what we can do for him. i wonder if he will stay if i make a new house for him. i believe i'll try it and see." chapter xxviii happy jack finds a new home they say the very darkest clouds are lined with silver bright and fair, though how they know i do not see, and neither do i really care. it's good to believe, and so i try to believe 'tis true with all my might, that nothing is so seeming dark but has a hidden side that's bright. _happy jack._ certainly things couldn't look much darker than they did to happy jack squirrel as he sat in the big maple tree at the side of farmer brown's house, and saw jolly, round, red mr. sun getting ready to go to bed behind the purple hills. he was afraid to go to his home in the green forest because shadow the weasel might be waiting for him there. he was afraid of the night which would soon come. he was cold, and he was hungry. altogether he was as miserable a little squirrel as ever was seen. he had just made up his mind that he would have to go look for a hollow in one of the trees in the old orchard in which to spend the night, when around the corner of the house came farmer brown's boy with something under one arm and dragging a ladder. he whistled cheerily to happy jack as he put the ladder against the tree and climbed up. by this time happy jack had grown so timid that he was just a little afraid of farmer brown's boy, so he climbed as high up in the tree as he could get and watched what was going on below. even if he was afraid, there was comfort in having farmer brown's boy near. for some time farmer brown's boy worked busily at the place where the branch that happy jack knew so well started out from the trunk of the tree towards the window of farmer brown's boy's room. when he had fixed things to suit him, he went down the ladder and carried it away with him. in the crotch of the tree he had left the queer thing that he had brought under his arm. in spite of his fears, happy jack was curious. little by little he crept nearer. what he saw was a box with a round hole, just about big enough for him to go through, in one end, and in front of it a little shelf. on the shelf were some of the nuts that he liked best. for a long time happy jack looked and looked. was it a trap? somehow he couldn't believe that it was. what would farmer brown's boy try to trap him for when they were such good friends? at last the sight of the nuts was too much for him. it certainly was safe enough to help himself to those. how good they tasted! almost before he knew it, they were gone. then he got up courage enough to peep inside. the box was filled with soft hay. it certainly did look inviting in there to a fellow who had no home and no place to go. he put his head inside. finally he went wholly in. it was just as nice as it looked. "i believe," thought happy jack, "that he made this little house just for me, and that he put all this hay in here for my bed. he doesn't know much about making a bed, but i guess he means well." with that he went to work happily to make up a bed to suit him, and by the time the first black shadow had crept as far as the big maple tree, happy jack was curled up fast asleep in his new house. chapter xxix farmer brown's boy takes a prisoner the craftiest and cleverest, the strongest and the bold will make mistakes like other folks, young, middle-aged, and old. _happy jack._ happy jack squirrel was happy once more. he liked his new house, the house that farmer brown's boy had made for him and fastened in the big maple tree close by the house in which he himself lived. happy jack and farmer brown's boy were getting to be greater friends than ever. every morning happy jack jumped over to the window-sill and then in at the open window of the room of farmer brown's boy. there he was sure to find a good breakfast of fat hickory nuts. when farmer brown's boy overslept, as he did sometimes, happy jack would jump up on the bed and waken him. he thought this great fun. so did farmer brown's boy, though sometimes when he was very sleepy he pretended to scold, especially on sunday mornings when he did not have to get up as early as on other days. of course, black pussy had soon discovered that happy jack was living in the big maple tree, and she spent a great deal of time sitting at the foot of it and glaring up at him with a hungry look in her eyes, although she wasn't hungry at all, for she had plenty to eat. several times she climbed up in the tree and tried to catch him. at first he had been afraid, but he soon found out that black pussy was not at all at home in a tree as he was. after that, he rather enjoyed having her try to catch him. it was almost like a game. it was great fun to scold at her and let her get very near him and then, just as she was sure that she was going to catch him, to jump out of her reach. after a while she was content to sit at the foot of the tree and just glare at him. happy jack had only one worry now, and this didn't trouble him a great deal. it was possible that shadow the weasel might take it into his head to try to surprise him some night. happy jack knew that by this time shadow must know where he was living, for of course sammy jay had found out, and sammy is one of those who tells all he knows. still, being so close to farmer brown's boy gave happy jack a very comfortable feeling. now all this time farmer brown's boy had not forgotten shadow the weasel and how he had driven happy jack out of the green forest, and he had wondered a great many times if it wouldn't be a kindness to the other little people if he should trap shadow and put him out of the way. but you know he had given up trapping, and somehow he didn't like to think of setting a trap, even for such a mischief-maker as shadow. then something happened that made farmer brown's boy very, very angry. one morning, when he went to feed the biddies, he found that shadow had visited the henhouse in the night and killed three of his best pullets. that decided him. he felt sure that shadow would come again, and he meant to give shadow a surprise. he hunted until he found the little hole through which shadow had got into the henhouse, and there he set a trap. "i don't like to do it, but i've got to," said he. "if he had been content with one, it would have been bad enough, but he killed three just from the love of killing, and it is high time that something be done to get rid of him." the very next morning happy jack saw farmer brown's boy coming from the henhouse with something under his arm. he came straight over to the foot of the big maple tree and put the thing he was carrying down on the ground. he whistled to happy jack, and as happy jack came down to see what it was all about, farmer brown's boy grinned. "here's a friend of yours you probably will be glad to see," said he. at first, all happy jack could make out was a kind of wire box. then he saw something white inside, and it moved. very suspiciously happy jack came nearer. then his heart gave a great leap. that wire box was a cage, and glaring between the wires with red, angry eyes was shadow the weasel! he was a prisoner! right away happy jack was so excited that he acted as if he were crazy. he no longer had a single thing to be afraid of. do you wonder that he was excited? chapter xxx a prisoner without fear a bad name is easy to get but hard to live down. _happy jack._ shadow the weasel was a prisoner. he who always had been free to go and come as he pleased and to do as he pleased was now in a little narrow cage and quite helpless. for once he had been careless, and this was the result. farmer brown's boy had caught him in a trap. of course, he should have known better than to have visited the henhouse a second time after killing three of the best pullets there. he should have known that farmer brown's boy would be sure to do something about it. the truth is, he had yielded to temptation when common sense had warned him not to. so he had no one to blame for his present difficulty but himself, and he knew it. at first he had been in a terrible rage and had bitten at the wires until he had made his mouth sore. when he had made sure that the wires were stouter than his teeth, he wisely stopped trying to get out in that way, and made up his mind that the only thing to do was to watch for a chance to slip out, if the door of the cage should happen to be left unfastened. of course it hurt his pride terribly to be made fun of by those who always had feared him. happy jack squirrel was the first one of these to see him. farmer brown's boy had put the cage down near the foot of the big maple tree in which happy jack was living, because shadow had driven him out of the green forest. as soon as happy jack had made sure that shadow really and truly was a prisoner and so quite harmless, he had acted as if he were crazy. perhaps he was--crazy with joy. you see, he no longer had anything to be really afraid of, for there was no one but shadow from whom he could not get away by running into his house. billy mink was the only other one who could follow him there, and billy was not likely to come climbing up a tree so close to farmer brown's house. so happy jack raced up and down the tree in the very greatest excitement, and his tongue went quite as fast as his legs. he wanted everybody to know that shadow was a prisoner at last. at first he did not dare go very close to the cage. you see, he had so long feared shadow that he was still afraid of him even though he was so helpless. but little by little happy jack grew bolder and came very close. and then he began doing something not at all nice. he began calling shadow names and making fun of him, and telling him how he wasn't afraid of him. it was all very foolish and worse--it was like hitting a foe who was helpless. of course happy jack hastened to tell everybody he met all about shadow, so it wasn't long before shadow began to receive many visitors. whenever farmer brown's boy was not around there was sure to be one or more of the little people who had feared shadow to taunt him and make fun of him. somehow it seems as if always it is that way when people get into trouble. you know it is very easy to appear to be bold and brave when there is nothing to be afraid of. of course that isn't bravery at all, though many seem to think it is. [illustration: it wasn't long before shadow began to receive many visitors.] now what do you think that right down in their hearts all these little people who came to jeer at shadow the weasel hoped they would see? why, they hoped they would see shadow afraid. yes, sir, that is just what they hoped. but they didn't. that is where they were disappointed. not once did shadow show the least sign of fear. he didn't know what farmer brown's boy would do with him, and he had every reason to fear that if he was not to be kept a prisoner for the rest of his natural life, something dreadful would be the end. but he was too proud and too brave to let any one know that any such fear ever entered his mind. whatever his faults, shadow is no coward. he boldly took bits of meat which farmer brown's boy brought to him, and not once appeared in the least afraid, so that, much as he disliked him, farmer brown's boy actually had to admire him. he was a prisoner, but he kept just as stout a heart as ever. chapter xxxi what farmer brown's boy did with shadow ribble, dibble, dibble, dab! some people have the gift of gab! some people have no tongues at all to trip them up and make them fall. _happy jack._ it is a fact, one of the biggest facts in all the world, that tongues make the greatest part of all the trouble that brings uncomfortable feelings, and bitterness and sadness and suffering and sorrow. if it wasn't for unruly, careless, mean tongues, the great world would be a million times better to live in, a million times happier. it is because of his unruly tongue that sammy jay is forever getting into trouble. it is the same way with chatterer the red squirrel. and it is just the same way with a great many little boys and girls, and with grown-ups as well. when the little people of the green forest and green meadows who fear shadow the weasel found that he was a prisoner, many of them took particular pains to visit him when the way was clear, just to make fun of him and tease him and tell him that they were not afraid of him and that they were glad that he was a prisoner, and that they were sure something dreadful would happen to him and they hoped it would. shadow said never a word in reply. he was too wise to do that. he just turned his back on them. but all the time he was storing up in his mind all these hateful things, and he meant, if ever he got free again, to make life very uncomfortable for those whose foolish tongues were trying to make him more miserable than he already felt. but these little people with the foolish tongues didn't stop to think of what might happen. they just took it for granted that shadow never again would run wild and free in the green forest, and so they just let their tongues run and enjoyed doing it. perhaps they wouldn't have, if they could have known just what was going on in the mind of farmer brown's boy. ever since he had found shadow in the trap which he had set for him in the henhouse, farmer brown's boy had been puzzling over what he should do with his prisoner. at first he had thought he would keep him in a cage the rest of his life. but somehow, whenever he looked into shadow's fierce little eyes and saw how unafraid they looked, he got to thinking of how terrible it must be to be shut up in a little narrow cage when one has had all the green forest in which to go and come. then he thought that he would kill shadow and put him out of his misery at once. "he killed my pullets, and he is always hunting the harmless little people of the green forest and the green meadows, so he deserves to be killed," thought farmer brown's boy. "he's a pest." then he remembered that after all shadow was one of old mother nature's little people, and that he must serve some purpose in mother nature's great plan. bad as he seemed, she must have some use for him. perhaps it was to teach others through fear of him how to be smarter and take better care of themselves and so be better fitted to do their parts. the more he thought of this, the harder it was for farmer brown's boy to make up his mind to kill him. but if he couldn't keep him a prisoner and he couldn't kill him, what could he do? he was scowling down at shadow one morning and puzzling over this when a happy idea came to him. "i know what i'll do!" he exclaimed. without another word he picked up the cage with shadow in it and started off across the green meadows, which now, you know, were not green at all but covered with snow. happy jack watched him out of sight. he had gone in the direction of the old pasture. he was gone a long time, and when he did return, the cage was empty. happy jack blinked at the empty cage. then he began to ask in a scolding tone, "what did you do with him? what did you do with him?" farmer brown's boy just smiled and tossed a nut to happy jack. and far up in the old pasture, shadow the weasel was once more free. it was well for happy jack's peace of mind that he didn't know that. chapter xxxii happy jack is perfectly happy never say a thing is so unless you absolutely know. just remember every day to be quite sure of what you say. _happy jack._ taking things for granted doesn't do at all in this world. to take a thing for granted is to think that it is so without taking the trouble to find out whether it is or not. it is apt not only to get you yourself into trouble, but to make trouble for other people as well. happy jack saw farmer brown's boy carry shadow the weasel away in a cage, and he saw him bring back the cage empty. what could he have done with shadow? for a while he teased farmer brown's boy to tell him, but of course farmer brown's boy didn't understand happy jack's language. now happy jack knew just what he would like to believe. he would like to believe that farmer brown's boy had taken shadow away and made an end of him. and because he wanted to believe that, it wasn't very hard to believe it. there was the empty cage. of course farmer brown's boy wouldn't have gone to the trouble of trapping shadow unless he intended to get rid of him for good. "he's made an end of him, that's what he's done!" said happy jack to himself, because that is what he would have done if he had been in farmer brown's boy's place. so having made up his mind that this is what had been done with shadow, he at once told all his friends that it was so, and was himself supremely happy. you see, he felt that he no longer had anything to worry about. yes, sir, happy jack was happy. he liked the house farmer brown's boy had made for him in the big maple tree close by his own house. he was sure of plenty to eat, because farmer brown's boy always looked out for that, and as a result happy jack was growing fat. none of his enemies of the green forest dared come so near to farmer brown's house, and the only one he had to watch out for at all was black pussy. by this time he wasn't afraid of her; not a bit. in fact, he rather enjoyed teasing her and getting her to chase him. when she was dozing on the doorstep he liked to steal very close, wake her with a sharp bark, and then race for the nearest tree, and there scold her to his heart's content. he had made friends with mrs. brown and with farmer brown, and he even felt almost friends with bowser the hound. sometimes he would climb up on the roof of bowser's little house and drop nutshells on bowser's head when he was asleep. the funny thing was bowser never seemed to mind. he would lazily open his eyes and wink one of them at happy jack and thump with his tail. he seemed to feel that now happy jack was one of the family, just as he was. so happy jack was just as happy as a fat gray squirrel with nothing to worry him could be. he was so happy that sammy jay actually became jealous. you know sammy is a born trouble maker. he visited happy jack every morning, and while he helped himself to the good things that he always found spread for him, for farmer brown's boy always had something for the little feathered folk to eat, he would hint darkly that such goodness and kindness was not to be trusted, and that something was sure to happen. that is just the way with some folks; they always are suspicious. but nothing that sammy jay could say troubled happy jack; and sammy would fly away quite put out because he couldn't spoil happy jack's happiness the least little bit. chapter xxxiii sammy jay upsets happy jack a good deed well done often is overlooked, but you never are allowed to forget a mistake. _happy jack._ sammy jay chuckled as he flew across the snow-covered green meadows on his way to his home in the green forest. he chuckled and he chuckled. to have heard him you would have thought that either he had thought of something very pleasant, or something very pleasant had happened to him. once he turned in the direction of farmer brown's house, but changed his mind as he saw the black shadows creeping out from the purple hills, and once more headed for the green forest. "too late to-day. time i was home now. it'll keep until to-morrow," he muttered. then he chuckled, and he was still chuckling when he reached the big hemlock tree, among the thick branches of which he spent each night. "don't know what started me off to the old pasture this afternoon, but i'm glad i went. my, my, my, but i'm glad i went," said he, as he fluffed out his feathers and prepared to tuck his head under his wing. "it pays to snoop around in this world and see what is going on. i learned a long time ago not to believe everything i hear, and that the surest way to make sure of things is to find out for myself. nothing like using my own eyes and my own ears. well, i must get to sleep." he began to chuckle again, and he was still chuckling as he fell asleep. the next morning sammy jay was astir at the very first sign of light. he waited just long enough to see that every feather was in place, for sammy is a bit vain, and very particular about his dress. then he headed straight for farmer brown's house. just as he expected he found happy jack squirrel was awake, for happy jack is an early riser. "good morning," said sammy jay, and tried very hard to make his voice sound smooth and pleasant, a very hard thing for sammy to do, for his voice, you know, is naturally harsh and unpleasant. "you seem to be looking as happy as ever." "of course i am," replied happy jack. "why shouldn't i be? i haven't a thing to worry about. of course i'm happy, and i hope you're just as happy as i am. i'm going to get my breakfast now, and then i'll be happier still." "that's so. there's nothing like a good breakfast to make one happy," said sammy jay, helping himself to some suet tied to a branch of the maple tree. "by the way, i saw an old friend of yours yesterday. he inquired after you particularly. he didn't exactly send his love, but he said that he hoped you are as well and fat as ever, and that he will see you again some time. he said that he didn't know of any one he likes to look at better than you." happy jack looked flattered. "that was very nice of him," said he. "who was it?" "guess," replied sammy. happy jack scratched his head thoughtfully. there were not many friends in winter. most of them were asleep or had gone to the far away southland. "peter rabbit," he ventured. sammy shook his head. "jimmy skunk!" again sammy shook his head. "jumper the hare!" "guess again," said sammy, chuckling. "little joe otter!" "wrong," replied sammy. "i give up. who was it? do tell me," begged happy jack. "it was shadow the weasel!" cried sammy, triumphantly. happy jack dropped the nut he was just going to eat, and in place of happiness something very like fear grew and grew in his eyes. "i--i don't believe you," he stammered. "farmer brown's boy took him away and put an end to him. i saw him take him." "but you didn't see him put an end to shadow," declared sammy, "because he didn't. he took him 'way up in the old pasture and let him go, and i saw him up there yesterday. that's what comes of guessing at things. shadow is no more dead than you are. well, i must be going along. i hope you'll enjoy your breakfast." with this, off flew sammy jay, chuckling as if he thought he had done a very smart thing in upsetting happy jack, which goes to show what queer ideas some people have. as for happy jack, he worried for a while, but as shadow didn't come, and there was nothing else to worry about, little by little happy jack's high spirits returned, until he was as happy as ever. and now, though he has had many adventures since then, i must leave him, for there is no more room in this book. perhaps if you ask him, he will tell you of these other adventures himself. meanwhile, bashful little mrs. peter rabbit is anxious that you should know something about her. so i have promised to call the next book, "mrs. peter rabbit." _bannertail_ _the story of a graysquirrel_ bannertail the story of a graysquirrel [illustration] with 100 drawings by ernest thompson seton author of wild animals i have known trail of the sandhill stag biography of a grizzly lives of the hunted monarch the big bear new york charles scribner's sons 1922 copyright, 1922, by ernest thompson seton printed in the united states of america _foreword_ _these are the ideas that i have aimed to set forth in this tale._ _1st. that although an animal is much helped by its mother's teaching, it owes still more to the racial teaching, which is instinct, and can make a success of life without its mothers guidance, if only it can live through the dangerous time of infancy and early life._ _2d. animals often are tempted into immorality--by which i mean, any habit or practice that would in its final working, tend to destroy the race. nature has rigorous ways of dealing with such._ _3d. animals, like ourselves, must maintain ceaseless war against insect parasites--or perish._ _4th. in the nut forests of america, practically every tree was planted by the graysquirrel, or its kin. no squirrels, no nut-trees._ _these are the motive thoughts behind my woodland novel. i hope i have presented them convincingly; if not, i hope at least you have been entertained by the romance._ [illustration: signature] contents chapter page i. the foundling 1 ii. his kittenhood 9 iii. the red horror 15 iv. the new and lonely life 19 v. the fluffing of his tail 25 vi. the first nut crop 31 vii. the sun song of bannertail 39 viii. the cold sleep 49 ix. the balking of fire-eyes 57 x. redsquirrel, the scold of the woods 65 xi. bannertail and the echo voice 71 xii. the courting of silvergray 77 xiii. the home in the high hickory 85 xiv. new rivals 91 xv. bachelor life again 97 xvi. the warden meets an invader 103 xvii. the hoodoo on the home 109 xviii. the new home 117 xix. the moving of the young 125 xx. the coming-out party 135 xxi. nursery days of the young ones 141 xxii. cray hunts for trouble 147 xxiii. the little squirrels go to school 151 xxiv. the lopping of the wayward branch 157 xxv. bannertail falls into a snare 163 xxvi. the addict 173 xxvii. the dregs of the cup 181 xxviii. the way of destruction 185 xxix. mother carey's lash 191 xxx. his awakening 199 xxxi. the unwritten law 205 xxxii. squirrel games 213 xxxiii. when bannertail was scarred for life 221 xxxiv. the fight with the black demon 229 xxxv. the property law among animals 243 xxxvi. gathering the great nut harvest 251 xxxvii. and to-day 261 illustrations facing page his kittenhood 12 baffling fire-eyes 60 they twiddled whiskers good night 82 with an angry "quare!" silvergray scrambled up again 130 the little squirrels at school 154 cray sank--a victim to his folly 160 a dangerous game 226 the battle with the blacksnake 238 _the foundling_ chapter i the foundling it was a rugged old tree standing sturdy and big among the slender second-growth. the woodmen had spared it because it was too gnarled and too difficult for them to handle. but the woodpecker, and a host of wood-folk that look to the woodpecker for lodgings, had marked and used it for many years. its every cranny and borehole was inhabited by some quaint elfin of the woods; the biggest hollow of all, just below the first limb, had done duty for two families of the flickers who first made it, and now was the homing hole of a mother graysquirrel. [illustration] she appeared to have no mate; at least none was seen. no doubt the outlaw gunners could have told a tale, had they cared to admit that they went gunning in springtime; and now the widow was doing the best she could by her family in the big gnarled tree. all went well for a while, then one day, in haste maybe, she broke an old rule in squirreldom; she climbed her nesting tree openly, instead of going up its neighbor, and then crossing to the den by way of the overhead branches. the farm boy who saw it, gave a little yelp of savage triumph; his caveman nature broke out. clubs and stones were lying near, the whirling end of a stick picked off the mother squirrel as she tried to escape with a little one in her mouth. had he killed two dangerous enemies the boy could not have yelled louder. then up the tree he climbed and found in the nest two living young ones. with these in his pocket he descended. when on the ground he found that one was dead, crushed in climbing down. thus only one little squirrel was left alive, only one of the family that he had seen, the harmless mother and two helpless, harmless little ones dead in his hands. [illustration] why? what good did it do him to destroy all this beautiful wild life? he did not know. he did not think of it at all. he had yielded only to the wild ancestral instinct to kill, when came a chance to kill, for we must remember that when that instinct was implanted, wild animals were either terrible enemies or food that must be got at any price. the excitement over, the boy looked at the helpless squirming thing in his hand, and a surge of remorse came on him. he could not feed it; it must die of hunger. he wished that he knew of some other nest into which he might put it. he drifted back to the barn. the mew of a young kitten caught his ear. he went to the manger. here was the old cat with the one kitten that had been left her of her brood born two days back. remembrance of many field-mice, chipmunks and some squirrels killed by that old green-eyed huntress, struck a painful note. yes! no matter what he did, the old cat would surely get, kill, and eat the orphan squirrel. then he yielded to a sudden impulse and said: "here it is, eat it now." he dropped the little stranger into the nest beside the kitten. the cat turned toward it, smelled it suspiciously once or twice, then licked its back, picked it up in her mouth, and tucked it under her arm, where half an hour later the boy found it taking dinner alongside its new-found foster-brother, while the motherly old cat leaned back with chin in air, half-closed eyes and purring the happy, contented purr of mother pride. now, indeed, the future of the foundling was assured. _his kittenhood_ chapter ii his kittenhood [illustration] little graycoat developed much faster than his kitten foster-brother. the spirit of play was rampant in him, he would scramble up his mother's leg a score of times a day, clinging on with teeth, arms and claws, then mount her back and frisk along to climb her upright tail; and when his weight was too much, down the tail would droop, and he would go merrily sliding off the tip to rush to her legs and climb and toboggan off again. the kitten never learned the trick. but it seemed to amuse the cat almost as much as it did the squirrelet, and she showed an amazing partiality for the lively, long-tailed foundling. so did others of importance, men and women folk of the farmhouse, and neighbors too. the frisky graycoat grew up amid experiences foreign to his tastes, and of a kind unknown to his race. [illustration] the kitten too grew up, and in midsummer was carried off to a distant farmhouse to be "their cat." [illustration: his kittenhood] now the squirrel was over half-grown, and his tail was broadening out into a great banner of buff with silver tips. his life was with the old cat; his food was partly from her dish. but many things there were to eat that delighted him, and that pleased her not. there was corn in the barn, and chicken-feed in the yard, and fruit in the garden. well-fed and protected, he grew big and handsome, bigger and handsomer than his wild brothers, so the house-folk said. but of that he knew nothing; he had never seen his own people. the memory of his mother had faded out. so far as he knew, he was only a bushy-tailed cat. but inside was an inheritance of instincts, as well as of blood and bone, that would surely take control and send him herding, if they happened near, with those and those alone of the blowsy silver tails. _the red horror_ chapter iii the red horror in the hunting-moon it came, just when the corn begins to turn, and in the dawn, when bannertail graycoat was yielding to the thrill that comes with action, youth and life, in dew-time. there was a growing, murmuring sound, then smoke from the barn, like that he had seen coming from the red mystery in the cook-house. but this grew very fast and huge; men came running, horses frantically plunging hurried out, and other living things and doings that he did not understand. then when the sun was high a blackened smoking pile there was where once had stood the dear old barn; and a new strange feeling over all. the old cat disappeared. a few days more and the house-folk, too, were gone. the place was deserted, himself a wildwood roving squirrel, quite alone, without a trace of squirrel training, such as example of the old ones gives, unequipped, unaccompanied, unprepared for the life-fight, except that he had a perfect body, and in his soul enthroned, the many deep and dominating instincts of his race. [illustration] _the new and lonely life_ chapter iv the new and lonely life the break was made complete by the red horror, and the going of the man-people. fences and buildings are good for some things, but the tall timber of the distant wooded hill was calling to him and though he came back many a time to the garden while there yet was fruit, and to the field while the corn was standing, he was ever more in the timber and less in the open. food there was in abundance now, for it was early autumn; and who was to be his guide in this: "what to eat, what to let alone?" these two guides he had, and they proved enough: _instinct_, the wisdom inherited from his forebears, and his keen, discriminating _nose_. scrambling up a rotten stub one day, a flake of bark fell off, and here a-row were three white grubs; fat, rounded, juicy. it was instinct bade him seize them, and it was smell that justified the order; then which, it is hard to say, told him to reject the strong brown nippers at one end of each prize. that day he learned to pry off flakes of bark for the rich foodstuffs lodged behind. [illustration] at another time, when he worked off a slab of bark in hopes of a meal, he found only a long brown millipede. its smell was earthy but strange, its many legs and its warning feelers, uncanny. the smell-guide seemed in doubt, but the inborn warden said: "beware, touch it not." he hung back watching askance, as the evil thing, distilling its strange pestilent gas, wormed snake-like out of sight, and bannertail in a moment had formed a habit that was of his race, and that lasted all his life. yea, longer, for he passed it on--this: let the hundred-leggers alone. are they not of a fearsome poison race? [illustration] thus he grew daily in the ways of woodlore. he learned that the gum-drops on the wounded bark of the black birch are good to eat, and the little faded brown umbrella in the woods is the sign that it has a white cucumber in its underground cellar; that the wild bees' nests have honey in them, and grubs as good as honey; but beware, for the bee has a sting! he learned that the little rag-bundle babies hanging from vine and twig, contain some sort of a mushy shell-covered creature that is amazingly good to eat; that the little green apples that grow on the oaks are not acorns, and are yet toothsome morsels of the lighter sort, while nearly every bush in the woods at autumn now had strings of berries whose pulp was good to eat and whose single inside seed was as sweet as any nut. thus he was learning woodcraft, and grew and prospered, for outside of sundry redsquirrels and chipmunks there were few competitors for this generous giving of the woods. _the fluffing of his tail_ chapter v the fluffing of his tail there are certain stages of growth that are marked by changes which, if not sudden, are for a time very quick, and the big change in bannertail, which took place just as he gave up the tricks and habits learned from his cat-folk, and began to be truly a squirrel, was marked by the fluffing of his tail. always long and long-haired, it was a poor wisp of a thing until the coming of the hunting-moon. then the hairs grew out longer and became plumy, then the tail muscles swelled and worked with power. then, too, he began a habit of fluffing out that full and flaunting plume every few minutes. once or twice a day he combed it, and ever he was most careful to keep it out of wet or dirt. his coat might be stained with juice of fruit or gum of pine, and little he cared; but the moment a pine drop or a bit of stick, moss, or mud clung to his tail he stopped all other work to lick, clean, comb, shake, fluff and double-fluff that precious, beautiful member to its perfect fulness, lightness, and plumy breadth. [illustration: fluffing his tail] why? what the trunk is to the elephant and the paw to the monkey, the tail is to the graysquirrel. it is his special gift, a vital part of his outfit, the secret of his life. the 'possum's tail is to swing by, the fox's tail for a blanket wrap, but the squirrel's tail is a parachute, a "land-easy"; with that in perfect trim he can fall from any height in any tree and be sure of this, that he will land with ease and lightness, and on his feet. this thing bannertail knew without learning it. it was implanted, not by what he saw in kitten days, or in the woods about, but by the great all-mother, who had builded up his athlete form and blessed him with an inner guide. _the first nut crop_ chapter vi the first nut crop that year the nut crop was a failure. this was the off-year for the red oaks; they bear only every other season. the white oaks had been nipped by a late frost. the beech-trees were very scarce, and the chestnuts were gone--the blight had taken them all. pignut hickories were not plentiful, and the very best of all, the sweet shag-hickory, had suffered like the white oaks. october, the time of the nut harvest, came. dry leaves were drifting to the ground, and occasional "thumps" told of big fat nuts that also were falling, sometimes of themselves and sometimes cut by harvesters; for, although no other graysquirrel was to be seen, bannertail was not alone. a pair of redsquirrels was there and half a dozen chipmunks searching about for the scattering precious nuts. [illustration] their methods were very different from those of the graysquirrel race. the chipmunks were carrying off the prizes in their cheek-pouches to underground storehouses. the redsquirrels were hurrying away with their loads to distant hollow trees, a day's gathering in one tree. the graysquirrels' way is different. with them each nut is buried in the ground, three or four inches deep, one nut at each place. a very precise essential instinct it is that regulates this plan. it is inwrought with the very making of the graysquirrel race. yet in bannertail it was scarcely functioning at all. even the strongest inherited habit needs a starter. how does a young chicken learn to peck? it has a strong inborn readiness to do it, but we know that that impulse must be stimulated at first by seeing the mother peck, or it will not function. in an incubator it is necessary to have a sophisticated chicken as a leader, or the chickens of the machine foster-mother will die, not knowing how to feed. nevertheless, the instinct is so strong that a trifle will arouse it to take control. yes, so small a trifle as tapping on the incubator floor with a pencil-point will tear the flimsy veil, break the restraining bond and set the life-preserving instinct free. like this chicken, robbed of its birthright by interfering man, was bannertail in his blind yielding to a vague desire to hide the nuts. he had never seen it done, the example of the other nut-gatherers was not helpful--was bewildering, indeed. confused between the inborn impulse and the outside stimulus of example, bannertail would seize a nut, strip off the husk, and hide it quickly anywhere. some nuts he would thrust under bits of brush or tufts of grass; some he buried by dropping leaves and rubbish over them, and a few, toward the end, he hid by digging a shallow hole. but the real, well-directed, energetic instinct to hide nut after nut, burying them three good inches, an arm's length, underground, was far from being aroused, was even hindered by seeing the redsquirrels and the chipmunks about him bearing away their stores, without attempting to bury them at all. so the poor, skimpy harvest was gathered. what was not carried off was hidden by the trees themselves under a layer of dead and fallen leaves. high above, in an old red oak, bannertail found a place where a broken limb had let the weather in, so the tree was rotted. digging out the soft wood left an ample cave, which he gnawed and garnished into a warm and weather-proof home. the bright, sharp days of autumn passed. the leaves were on the ground throughout the woods in noisy dryness and lavish superabundance. the summer birds had gone, and the chipmunk, oversensitive to the crispness of the mornings, had bowed sedately on november 1, had said his last "good-by," and had gone to sleep. thus one more voice was hushed, the feeling of the woods was "_hush, be still!_"--was all-expectant of some new event, that the tentacles of high-strung wood-folk sensed and appraised as sinister. backward they shrank, to hide away and wait. [illustration] _the sun song of bannertail_ chapter vii the sun song of bannertail the sun was rising in a rosy mist, and glinting the dew-wet overlimbs, as there rang across the bright bare stretch of woodland a loud "_qua, qua, qua, quaaaaaaa!_" like a high priest of the sun on the topmost peak of the temple stood bannertail, carried away by a new-born inner urge. a full-grown wildwood graysquirrel he was now, the call of the woods had claimed him, and he hailed the glory of the east with an ever longer "_qua, qua, quaaaaaaaaaa!_" this was the season of the shortest days, though no snow had come as yet to cover the brown-leaved earth. few birds were left of the summer merrymakers. the crow, the nuthatch, the chickadee, and the woodwale alone were there, and the sharp tang of the frost-bit air was holding back their sun-up calls. but bannertail, a big graysquirrel now, found gladness in the light, intensified, it seemed, by the very lateness of its coming. "_qua, qua, qua, quaaaaaa_," he sang, and done into speech of man the song said: "_hip, hip, hip, hurrahhh!_" [illustration] he had risen from his bed in the hollow oak to meet and greet it. he was full of lusty life now, and daily better loved his life. "_qua, qua, qua, quaaaa!_"--he poured it out again and again. the chickadee quit his bug hunt for a moment to throw back his head and shout: "_me, too!_" the nuthatch, wrong end up, answered in a low, nasal tone: "_hear, hear, hear!_" even the sulky crow joined in at last with a "_'rah, 'rah, 'rah!_" and the woodwale beat a long tattoo. "_hip, hip, hip, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!_" shouted bannertail as the all-blessed glory rose clear above the eastern trees and the world was aflood with the sun-god's golden smile. a score of times had he thus sung and whip-lashed his tail, and sung again, exulting, when far away, among the noises made by birds, was a low "_qua, quaaa!_"--the voice of another graysquirrel! his kind was all too scarce in jersey-land, and yet another would not necessarily be a friend; but in the delicate meaningful modulations of sound so accurately sensed by the squirrel's keen ear, this far-off "_qua, qua_," was a little softer than his own, a little higher-pitched, a little more gently modulated, and bannertail knew without a moment's guessing. "yes, it was a graysquirrel, and it was not one that would take the war-path against him." [illustration] the distant voice replied no more, and bannertail set about foraging for his morning meal. [illustration] the oak-tree in which he had slept was only one of the half-a-dozen beds he now claimed. it was a red oak, therefore its acorns were of poor quality; and it was on the edge of the woods. the best feeding-grounds were some distance away, but the road to them well known. although so much at home in the trees, bannertail travelled on the ground when going to a distance. down the great trunk, across an open space to a stump, a pause on the stump to fluff his tail and look around, a few bounds to a fence, then along the top of that in three-foot hops till he came to the gap; six feet across this gap, and he took the flying leap with pride, remembering how, not so long ago, he used perforce to drop to the ground and amble to the other post. he was making for the white oak and hickory groves; but his keen nose brought him the message of a big red acorn under the leaves. he scratched it out and smelled it--yes, good. he ripped off the shell and here, ensconced in the middle, was a fat white grub, just as good as the nut itself, or better. so bannertail had grub on the half-shell and nuts on the side for his first course. then he set about nosing for hidden hickory-nuts; few and scarce were they. he had not found one when a growing racket announced the curse-beast of the woods, a self-hunting dog. clatter, crash, among the dry leaves and brush, it came, yelping with noisy, senseless stupidity when it found a track that seemed faintly fresh. bannertail went quietly up a near elm-tree, keeping the trunk between himself and the beast. from the elm he swung to a basswood, and finished his meal of basswood buds. keeping one eye on the beast, he scrambled to an open platform nest that he had made a month ago, where he lazed in the sun, still keeping eyes and ears alert for tidings from the disturber below. the huge brute prowled around and found the fresh scent up the elm, and barked at it, too, but of course he was barking up the wrong tree, and presently went off. bannertail watched him with some faint amusement, then at last went rippling down the trunk and through the woods like a cork going down a rushing stream. [illustration] he was travelling homeward by the familiar route, on the ground, in undulated bounds, with pauses at each high lookout, when again the alarm of enemies reached him--a dog, sniffing and barking, and farther off a hunter. bannertail made for the nearest big tree, and up that he went, keeping ever the trunk between. then came the dog--a squirrel hound--and found the track and yelped. up near the top was a "dray," or platform nest, one bannertail had used and partly built, and in this he stretched out contentedly, peering over the edge at the ugly brutes below. the dog kept yelping up the trunk, saying plainly: "_squirrel, squirrel, squirrel, up, up, up!_" and the hunter came and craned his neck till it was cricked, but nothing he saw to shoot at. then he did what a hunter often does. he sent a charge of shot through the nest that was in plain view. there were some heavy twigs in its make-up, and it rested on a massive fork, or the event might have gone hard with bannertail. the timber received most of the shock of the shot, but a something went stinging through his ear tip that stuck beyond the rim. it hurt and scared him, and he was divided between the impulse to rush forth and seek other shelter, and the instinct to lie absolutely still. fortunately he lay still, and the hunter passed on, leaving the squirrel wiser in several ways, for now he knew the danger of the dray when gunners came and the wisdom of "lay low" when in doubt. _the cold sleep_ chapter viii the cold sleep next day there was a driving storm of snow, and whether the sun came up or not bannertail did not know. he kept his nest, and, falling back on an ancient spend-time of the folk he kins with, he curled up into a sleep that deepened with the cold. this is partly a deliberate sleep. the animal voluntarily lets go, knowing that life outside is unattractive; he, by an act of the will, induces the cold sleep, that is like a chapter of forgetfulness, with neither hunger nor desire, and after it is over, no pain in punishment or remorse. for two days the storm raged, and when the white flakes ceased to pile upon the hills and trees, a cutting blast arose that sent snow-horses riding across the fields and piled them up in drifts along the fences. it made life harder for the squirrel-folk by hiding good mother earth from their hungry eyes; but in one way the wind served them, for it swept the snow from all the limbs that served the tree-folk as an over-way. for two days the blizzard hissed. the third day it was very cold; on the fourth day bannertail peeped forth on the changed white world. the wind, the pest of wild life in the trees, had ceased, the sky was clear, and the sun was shining in a weak, uncertain way. it evoked no enthusiasm in the graycoat's soul. not once did he utter his sun-salute. he was stiff and sleepy, and a little hungry as he went forth. his hunger grew with the exercise of moving. had he been capable of such thought he might have said: "thank goodness the wind has swept the snow from the branches." he galloped and bounded from one high over-way to another, till a wide gap between tree-tops compelled him to descend. over the broad forest floor of shining white he leaped, and made for the beloved hickory grove. pine-cones furnish food, so do buds of elm and flower-buds of maple. red acorns are bitter yet eatable, white acorns still better, and chestnuts and beechnuts delicious, but the crowning glory of a chosen feast is nuts of the big shag hickory--so hard of shell that only the strongest chisel teeth can reach them, so precious that nature locks them up in a strong-box of stone, enwrapped in a sole-leather case; so sought after, that none of them escape the hungry creatures of the wood for winter use, except such as they themselves have hidden for just such times. bannertail quartered the surface of the snow among the silent bare-limbed trees, sniffing, sniffing, alert for the faintest whiff. a hound would not have found it--his nose is trained for other game. bannertail stopped, swung his keen "divining-rod," advanced a few hops, moved this way and that, then at the point of the most alluring whiff, he began to dig down, down through the snow. [illustration] soon he was out of sight, for here the drift was nearly two feet deep. but he kept on, then his busy hind feet replacing the front ones as diggers for a time, sent flying out on the white surface brown leaves, then black loam. nothing showed but his tail and little jets of leaf-mould. his whole arm's-length into the frosty ground did he dig, allured by an ever-growing rich aroma. at last he seized and dragged forth in his teeth a big fat hickory-nut, one buried by himself last fall, and, bounding with rippling tail up a tree to a safe perch that was man-high from the ground, he sawed the shell adroitly and feasted on the choicest food that is known to the squirrel kind. a second prowl and treasure-hunt produced another nut, a third produced an acorn, a visit to the familiar ever-unfrozen spring quenched his thirst, and then back he undulated through the woods and over the snow to his cosey castle in the oak. _the balking of fire-eyes_ chapter ix the balking of fire-eyes [illustration] other days were much like this as the snow-moon slowly passed. but one there was that claimed a place in his memory for long. he had gone farther afield to another grove of hickories, and was digging down so deep into the snow that caution compelled him to come out and look around at intervals. it was well he did so, for a flash of brown and white appeared on a near log. it made toward him, and bannertail got an instinctive sense of fear. small though it was, smaller than himself, the diabolic fire in its close-set eyes gave him a thrill of terror. he felt that his only safety lay in flight. now it was a race for the tall timber, and a close one, but bannertail's hops were six feet long; his legs went faster than the eye could see. the deep snow was harder on him than on his ferocious enemy, but he reached the great rugged trunk of an oak, and up that, gaining a little. the weasel followed close behind, up, up, to the topmost limbs, and out on a long, level branch to leap for the next tree. bannertail could leap farther than fire-eyes, but then he was heavier and had to leap from where the twigs were thicker. so fire-eyes, having only half as far to go, covered the leap as well as the squirrel did, and away they went as before. [illustration: baffling fire-eyes] every wise squirrel knows all the leaps in his woods, those which he can easily make, and those which will call for every ounce of power in his legs. the devilish pertinacity of the weasel, still hard after him, compelled him to adopt a scheme. he made for a wide leap, the very limit of his powers, where the take-off was the end of a big broken branch, and racing six hops behind was the brown terror. without a moment's pause went bannertail easily across the six-foot gap, to land on a sturdy limb in the other tree. and the weasel! he knew he could not make it, hung back an instant, gathered his legs under him, snarled, glared redder-eyed than ever, bobbed down a couple of times, measured the distance with his eye, then wheeled and, racing back, went down the tree, to cross and climb the one that sheltered the squirrel. bannertail quietly hopped to a higher perch, and, when the right time came, leaped back again to the stout oak bough. again the weasel, with dogged pertinacity, raced down and up, only to see the graysquirrel again leap lightly across the impassable gulf. most hunters would have given up now, but there is no end to the dogged stick-to-itiveness of the weasel; besides, he was hungry. and half-a-dozen times he had made the long circuit while his intended victim took the short leap. then bannertail, gaining confidence, hit on a plan which, while it may have been meant for mere teasing, had all the effect of a deep stratagem played with absolute success. when next the little red-eyed terror came racing along the oak limb, bannertail waited till the very last moment, then leaped, grasped the far-side perch, and, turning, "yipped" out one derisive "_grrrf, grrrf, grrrf_" after another, and craned forward in mockery of the little fury. this was too much. wild with rage, the weasel took the leap, fell far short, and went whirling head over heels down seventy-five feet, to land not in the soft snow but on a hard-oak log, that knocked out his cruel wind, and ended for the day all further wish to murder or destroy. _redsquirrel, the scold of the woods_ chapter x redsquirrel, the scold of the woods [illustration] the snow-moon was waning, the hunger-moon at hand, when bannertail met with another adventure. he had gone far off to the pine woods of a deep glen, searching for cones, when he was set on by a redsquirrel. flouncing over the plumy boughs it came, chattering: "_squat, squat, quit, quit, quit_"--"_git, git, git_"--and each moment seemed more inclined to make a tooth-and-nail attack on bannertail. and he, what had he to fear? was he not bigger and stronger than the red-headed one? yes, very well able to overmatch him in fight, but his position was much like that of a grown man who is assailed by a blackguard boy. there is no glory in the fight, if it comes to that. there is much unpleasant publicity, and the man usually decides that it is better to ignore the insult and retreat. this was bannertail's position exactly. he hated a row--most wild things do--it brings them into notice of the very creatures they wish to avoid. besides, the redsquirrel was not without some justification, for these were his pine-trees by right of long possession. bannertail, without touch of violence or fear of it, yielded to the inward impulses, yielded and retreated, closely pursued by the redsquirrel, who kept just out of reach, but worked himself up into a still noisier rage as he saw the invader draw off. it was characteristic of the red one that he did not stop at the border of his own range but followed right into the hickory country, shrieking: "_git, git, ye brute ye, ye brute ye, git!_" with insolence born of his success, though its real explanation was beyond him. [illustration] _bannertail and the echo voice_ chapter xi bannertail and the echo voice the hunger-moon, our february, was half worn away when again the sky gods seemed to win against the powers of chill and gloom. food was ever scarcer, but bannertail had enough, and was filled with the vigor of young life. the sun came up in a cloudless sky that day, and blazed through the branches of still, tense woodland, the air was crisp and exhilarating, and bannertail, tingling with the elation of life, leaped up for the lust of leaping, and sang out his loudest song: "_qua, qua, qua, quaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!_" from a high perch. ringing across the woodland it went, and the woodwales drummed on hardwood drums, in keen responsiveness, to the same fair, vernal influence of the time. though he seemed only to sing for singing's sake, he was conscious lately of a growing loneliness, a hankering for company that had never possessed him all winter; indeed, he had resented it when any hint of visitors had reached him, but now he was restless and desireful, as well as bursting with the wish to sing. "_qua, qua, qua, quaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!_" he sang again and again, and on the still, bright air were echoes from the hills. "_qua, qua, quaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!_" he poured it out again, and the echo came, "_qua, quaaaaa!_" then another call, and the echo, "_quaaa!_" was it an echo? he waited in silence--then far away he heard the soft "_qua, quaa_" that had caught his ear last fall. the voice of another graycoat, but so soft and alluring that it thrilled him. here, indeed, was the answer to the hankering in his heart. [illustration] but even as he craned and strained to locate its very place, another call was heard: "_qua, qua, qua, quaaaaaa_" from some big strong graycoat like himself, and all the fighting blood in him was stirred. he raced to the ground and across the woodland to the hillside whence the voice came. on a log he stopped, with senses alert for new guidance. "_qua, qua, quaaa_," came the soft call, and up the tree went bannertail, a silvery tail-tip flashed behind the trunk, and now, ablaze with watchfulness, he followed fast. then came a lone, long "_qua, qua_," then a defiant "_grrff_," like a scream, and a third big graysquirrel appeared, to scramble up after bannertail. _the courting of silvergray_ chapter xii the courting of silvergray away went silvergray, undulating among the high branches that led to the next tree, and keen behind came the two. then they met at the branch that had furnished the footway for the gray lady, and in a moment they clinched. grappling like cats, they drove their teeth into each other's shoulders, just where the hide was thickest and the danger least. in their combat rage they paid no heed to where they were. their every clutch was on each other, none for the branch, and over they tumbled into open space. [illustration] two fighting cats so falling would have clutched the harder and hoped each that the other would be the one to land on the under side. squirrels have a different way. sensing the fall, at once they sprang apart, each fluffed his great flowing tail to the utmost--it is nature's own "land-easy"--they landed gently, wide apart, and quite unshaken even by the fall. overhead was the lady of the tourney, in plain view, and the two stout knights lost not a moment in darting up her tree; again they met on a narrow limb, again they clutched and stabbed each other with their chisel teeth, again the reckless grapple, clutch, and the drop in vacant air--again they shot apart, one landed on the solid ground, but the other--the echo voice--went splash, plunge into the deepest part of the creek! in ten heart-beats he was safely on the bank. but there is such soothing magic in cold water, such quenching of all fires, be they of smoke or love or war, that the echo singer crawled forth in quite a different mood, and bannertail, flashing up the great tree trunk, went now alone. to have conquered a rival is a long step toward victory, but it is not yet victory complete. when he swung from limb to limb, ever nearer the silvergray, he was stirred with the wildest hankering of love. was she not altogether lovely? but she fled away as though she feared him; and away he went pursuing. there is no more exquisite climbing action than that of the squirrel, and these two, half a leap apart, winding, wending, rippling through the high roof-tree of the woods, were less like two gray climbing things than some long, silvery serpent, sinuating, flashing in and out in undulating coils with endless grace and certainty among the trees. [illustration] now who will say that silvergray really raced her fastest, and who will deny that he did his best? he was strong and swift, the race must end, and then she faced him with anger and menace simulated in her face and pose. he approached too near; her chisel teeth closed on his neck. he held still, limp, absolutely unresisting. her clutch relaxed. had he not surrendered? they stood facing each other, an armed neutrality established, nothing more. shyly apart and yet together, they drifted about that day, feeding at feed time. but she was ready to warn him that his distance he must keep. by countless little signs they understood each other, and when the night came she entered a familiar hollow tree and warned him to go home. [illustration: they twiddled whiskers good night] next day they met again, and the next, for there is a rule of woodland courtship--three times he must offer and be refused. having passed this proof, all may be well. thus the tradition of the woods was fully carried out, and bannertail with silvergray was looking for a home. _the home in the high hickory_ chapter xiii the home in the high hickory bannertail was very well satisfied with the home in the red oak, and assumed that thither he should bring his bride. but he had not reckoned with certain big facts--that is, laws--for the reason that he had never before met them. the female wild thing claims all authority in matters of the home, and in the honeymoon time no wild mate would even challenge her right to rule. so the red oak den was then and there abandoned. search in the hickory grove resulted in a find. a flicker had dug into the trunk of a tall hickory where it was dead. once through the outer shell the inner wood was rotten punk, too easy for a flicker to work in, but exactly right and easy for a graysquirrel. here, then, the two set to work digging out the soft rotten wood till the chamber was to their liking, much bigger than that the woodpecker would have made. [illustration] march, the wakening-moon, was spent in making the home and lining the nest. bark strips, pine-needles, fine shreds of plants that had defied the wind and snow, rags of clothes left by winter woodmen, feathers, tufts of wool, and many twigs of basswood with their swollen buds, and slippery-elm, and one or two--yes, silvergray could not resist the impulse--fat acorns found from last year's crop and hidden now deep in the lining of the nest. there can be no happier time for any wild and lusty live thing than when working with a loving mate at the building and making of the nest. their world is one of joy--fine weather, fair hunting, with food enough, overwhelming instincts at their flush of compulsion--all gratified in sanest, fullest measure. this sure is joy, and bannertail met each yellow sun-up with his loudest song of praise, as he watched it from the highest lookout of his home tree. his "_qua_" song reached afar, and in its vibrant note expressed the happy time, and expressing it, intensified it in himself. there seemed no ill to mar the time. even the passing snow-storms of the month seemed trifles; they were little more than landmarks on the joyful way. _new rivals_ chapter xiv new rivals [illustration] the stormy moon of march was nearly over when a change came on their happy comradeship. silvergray seemed to beget a coolness, a singular aloofness. if they were on the same branch together she did not sit touching him. if he moved to where she chanced to stand, and tried, as a thousand times before, to snuggle up, she moved away. the cloud, whatever it was, grew bigger. in vain he sought by pleasing acts to win her back. she had definitely turned against him, and the climax came when one evening they climbed to their finished, set, and furnished house. she whisked in ahead of him, then, turning suddenly, filled the doorway with her countenance expressing defiance and hostility, her sharp teeth menacingly displayed. she said as plainly as she could: "you keep away; you are not wanted here." and bannertail, what could he do? hurt, rebuffed, not wanted in the house he had made and loved, turned away perforce and glumly sought his bachelor home in the friendly old red oak. [illustration] whatever was the cause, bannertail knew that it was his part to keep away, at least to respond to her wishes. next morning, after feeding, he swung to the nesting tree. yes, there she was on a limb--but at once she retreated to the door and repeated the signal, "you are not wanted here." the next day it was the same. then on the third day she was nowhere to be seen. bannertail hung about hoping for a glimpse, but none he got. cautiously, fearfully, he climbed the old familiar bark-way; silently arriving at the door, he gently thrust in his head. the sweet familiar furry smell told him "yes, she was there." he moved inward another step. yes, there she lay curled up and breathing. one step more; up she started with an angry little snort. bannertail sprang back and away, but not before he had seen and sensed this solving of the mystery. there, snuggling together under her warm body were three tiny little baby squirrels. [illustration] for this, indeed, it was that mother nature whispered messages and rules of conduct. for this time it was she had dowered this untutored little mother squirrel with all the garnered wisdom of the folk before. nor did she leave them now, but sent the very message to mother squirrel and father squirrel, and the little ones, too, at the very time when their own poor knowledge must have failed. it was the unspoken hint from her that made the little mother-soon-to-be hide in the nesting-place some nuts with buds of slippery-elm, twigs of spice bush, and the bitter but nourishing red acorns. in them was food and tonic for the trying time. water she could get near by, but even that called for no journey forth, it chanced that a driving rain drenched the tree, and at the very door she found enough to drink. _bachelor life again_ chapter xv bachelor life again [illustration] bannertail was left to himself, like a bachelor driven to his club. he had become very wise in woodlore so that the food question was no longer serious. not counting the remnant of the nuts still unearthed, the swelling buds of every sweet-sapped tree were wholesome, delicious food, the inner bark of sweet birch twigs was good, there were grubs and borers under flakes of bark, the pucker berries or red chokeberries that grow in the lowlands still hung in clusters. their puckery sourness last fall had made all creatures let them alone, but a winter weathering had sweetened them, and now they were toothsome as well as abundant sustenance. [illustration] another, wholly different food, was added to the list. with the bright spring days the yellow sapsucker arrived from the south. he is a crafty bird and a lover of sweets. his plan is to drill with his sharp beak a hole deep through the bark of a sugar-maple, so the sap runs out and down the bark, lodging in the crevices; and not one but a score of trees he taps. of course the sun evaporates the sap, so it becomes syrup, and even sugar on the edges. this attracts many spring insects, which get entangled in the sticky stuff, and the sapsucker, going from tree to tree in the morning, feasts on a rich confection of candied bugs. but many other creatures of the woods delight in this primitive sweetmeat, and bannertail did not hesitate to take it when he could find it. although animals have some respect for property law among their own kind, might is the only right they own in dealing with others. amusement aplenty bannertail found in building "drays," or tree nests. these are stick platforms of the simplest open-work, placed high in convenient trees. some are for lookouts, some for sleeping-porches when the night is hot, some are for the sun-bath that every wise squirrel takes. here he would lie on his back in the morning sun with his belly exposed, his limbs outsprawling, and let the healing sun-rays strike through the thin skin, reaching every part with their actinic power. bannertail did it because it was pleasant, and he ceased doing it when it no longer pleased him. is not this indeed dame nature's way? pain is her protest against injury, and soothingness in the healthy creature is the proof that it is doing good. many disorders we know are met or warded off by this sun-bath. we know it now. not long ago we had no fuller information than had bannertail on such things. we knew only that it felt good at the time and left us feeling better; so we took it, as he took it, when the need of the body called for it, and ceased as he did, when the body no longer desired it. _the warden meets an invader_ chapter xvi the warden meets an invader [illustration] the bond between them had kept bannertail near his mate, and her warning kept him not too near. yet it was his daily wont to come to the nesting tree and wait about, in case of anything, he knew not what. thus it was that he heard a rustling in the near-by limbs one day, then caught a flash of red. a stranger approaching the tree of trees. all bannertail's fighting blood was aroused. he leaped by well-known jumps, and coursed along well-known overways, till he was on the nesting tree, and undulated like a silvery shadow up the familiar trunk to find himself facing the very redsquirrel whose range he once had entered and from whom he, bannertail, had fled. but what a change of situation and of heart! redhead scoffed and shook his flaming tail. he shrieked his "_skit, skit_" and stood prepared to fight. did bannertail hold back--he, bannertail, that formerly had declined the combat with this very rogue? not for an instant. there was new-engendered power within compelling him. he sprang on the red bandit with all his vigor and drove his teeth in deep. the redhead was a fighter, too. he clinched and bit. they clung, wrestled and stabbed, then, losing hold of the tree, went hurling to the earth below. in air they flung apart, but landing unhurt they clinched again on the ground; then the redhead, bleeding from many little wounds, and over-matched, sought to escape, dodged this way and that, found refuge in a hole under a root; and bannertail, breathless, with two or three slight stabs, swung slowly up the tree from which silvergray had watched the fight of her mate. there never yet was feminine heart that withheld its meed of worship from her fighting champion coming home victorious--which reason may not have entered into it at all. but this surely counted: the young ones' eyes were opened, they were no longer shapeless lumps of flesh. they were fuzzy little squirrels. the time had come for the father to rejoin the brood. with the come-together instinct that follows fight, he climbed to the very doorway; she met him there, whisker to whisker. she reached out and licked his wounded shoulder; when she reentered the den he came in too; nosing his brood to get their smell, just as a woman mother buries her nose in the creasy neck of her baby; he gently curled about them all, and the reunited family went sound asleep in their single double bed. [illustration] _the hoodoo on the home_ chapter xvii the hoodoo on the home not many days later they had a new unfriendly visitor. it was in the morning rest hour that follows early breakfast. the familiar _cluck, cluck_ of a flicker had sounded from a near tree-top. then his stirring _tattoo_ was heard on a high dead limb of the one tree. a little later a scratching sound, and the hole above was darkened by the head and shoulders of a big bird peering down at them through the opening. his long, sharp beak was opened to utter a loud startling "_clape!_" up leaped bannertail to meet and fight off the invader. there was little fighting to be done, for the flicker sprang back, and on to a high limb. his fighting feathers were raised, and his threatening beak did look very dangerous, but he did not wait for bannertail to spring on him. he swooped away in a glory of yellow wings, and with a chuckle of derision. it was a small incident, but it made a second break in their sense of secrecy. then came another little shock. the bluejay, the noisy mischief-maker, was prowling around the farmhouse, and high on a ledge he found a handful of big horse-chestnuts gathered by the boy "to throw at cats." had he been hungry the jay would have eaten them, but choice food was plentiful, so now his storage instincts took charge. the bluejay nearly sprained his bill getting a hold on a nut, then carried it off, looking for a hollow tree in which to hide it, as is the custom of his kind. the hole he found was the squirrel's nest. he meant to take a good look in before dropping it, but the nut was big and heavy, smooth and round. it slipped from his beak plump into the sleeping family, landing right on bannertail's nose. up he jumped with a snort and rushed to the door. the bluejay was off at a safe distance, and chortled a loud "_tooral, tooral, jay, jay!_" in mischievous mockery, then flew away. bannertail might have taken that nut for a friendly gift, but its coming showed that the den was over-visible. there was something wrong with it. later the very same day, the bluejay did this same thing with another big chestnut. evidently now he enjoyed the commotion that followed the dropping of the nut. [illustration] one day later came a still more disturbing event. a roving, prowling cur found the fresh squirrel track up the tree, and "yapped" so persistently that two boys who were leagued with the dog for all manner of evil, came, marked the hole and spent half an hour throwing stones at it, varying their volleys with heavy pounding on the trunk to "make the squirrel come out." of course, neither bannertail nor silvergray did show themselves. that is very old wood-wisdom. "lay low, keep out of sight when the foe is on the war-path." and at last the besiegers and their yap-colleague tramped away without having seen sign or hair of a squirrel. there was very little to the incident, but it sank deep into silvergray's small brain. "this nest is ill-concealed. every hostile creature finds it." there was yet another circumstance that urged action. shall i tell it? it is so unpicturesque. a squirrel's nest is a breeding-ground for vermin; a nest that is lined with soft grass, feathers, and wool becomes a swarming hive. bannertail's farm upbringing had made him all too familiar with feathers and wool. his contribution to the home furnishing had been of the kind that guaranteed a parasitic scourge. this thing he had not learned--for it is instilled by the smell of their mother nest--cedar bark and sassafras leaves, with their pungent oils, are needed to keep the irritating vermin swarm away. and silvergray, was she at fault? only in this, the purifying bark and leaves were scarce. she was weak compared with bannertail. his contributions had so far outpointed hers that the nest had become unbearable. their only course was to abandon it. [illustration] _the new home_ chapter xviii the new home twice a day now silvergray left the little ones, to forage for herself, soon after sunrise and just before sunset. it was on the morning outing that she went house hunting. and bannertail went too. ever he led to the cosey home in his old red oak. but there is a right that is deeply rooted in custom, in logic, and in female instinct, that it is the she-one's privilege to select, prepare, and own the home. every suggestion that he made by offered lead or actual entry, was scorned and the one who made it, snubbed. she did her own selecting, and, strangest thing of all, she chose the rude stick nest of a big-winged hawk, abandoned now, for the hawk himself, with his long-clawed mate, was nailed to the end of the barn. [illustration] winter storm and beaming sun had purged and purified the rough old aerie; it was high on a most unclimbable tree, yet sheltered in the wood, and here silvergray halted in her search. all about the nest and tree she climbed, and smelled to find the little owner marks, of musk or rasping teeth, if such there should be--the marks that would have warned her that this place was already possessed. but none there were. the place was without taint, bore only through and through the clean, sweet odor of the woods and wood. and this is how she took possession: she rubbed her body on the rim of the nest, she nibbled off projecting twiglets, she climbed round and round the trunk below and above, thus leaving her foot and body scent everywhere about, then gathered a great mouthful of springtime twigs, with their soft green leaves, and laid them in the hawk nest for the floor-cloth of her own. [illustration] she went farther, and found a sassafras, with its glorious flaming smell of incense, its redolence of aromatic purity, and with a little surge of joy instinctive she gathered bundle after bundle of the sweet, strong twigs, spread them out for the rug and matting of the house. and bannertail did the same, and for a while they worked in harmony. then was struck a harsh, discordant note. crossing the forest floor bannertail found a rag, a mitten that some winter woodcutter had cast away, and, still obsessed with the nursery garnish of his own farm-kitten days, he pounced on this and bore it gleefully to the nest that they were abuilding. and silvergray, what said she, as the evil thing was brought? she had no clear ideas, no logic from the other ill-starred home. she could not say: "there was hoodoo on it, and this ragged woollen mitt seems hoodoo-like to me." but these were her strange reactions. "the smell of that other nest was like this; that smell is linked with every evil memory. i do not want it here." her instinct, the inherited wisdom of her forebears, indorsed this view, and as she sniffed and sniffed, the smell inspired her with intense hostility, a hostility that in the other nest was somewhat offset by the smell of her loved brood, but this was not--it was wholly strange and hostile. her neck hair rose, her tail trembled a little, as, acting under the new and growing impulse of violent dislike, she hurled the offending rag far from the threshold of her nest. flop it went to the ground below. and bannertail, not quite understanding, believed this to be an accident. down he went as fast as his fast feet could carry him, seized on the ragged mitten, brought it again to the home-building. but the instinct that had been slow arousing was now dominant in silvergray. with an angry chatter she hurled the accursed thing afar, and made it clear by snort and act that "such things come not there." this was the strenuous founding of the new nest, and these were among the hidden springs of action and of unshaped thoughts that ruled the founding. the nest was finished in three days. a rain roof over all of fresh flat leaves, an inner lining of chewed cedar bark, an abundance of aromatic sassafras, one or two little quarrels over accidental rags that bannertail still seemed to think worth while. but the new nest was finished, pure and sweet with a consecrating, plague-defying aroma of cedar and of sassafras to be its guardian angel. [illustration] _the moving of the young_ chapter xix the moving of the young [illustration] it was very early in the morning, soon after sunrise, that they took the hazard of moving the young. silvergray had fed the babies and looked out and about, and had come back and looked again. then, picking up the nearest by the scruff of its neck, she rose to the doorway. now a great racket sounded in the woods. silvergray backed in again and down, dropped the young one, then put her head out. the noise increased, the trampling of heavy feet. she backed till only her nose was out, and watched. soon there came in view huge red-and-white creatures with horns. she had often seen them, and held them harmless, but why were they moving so fast? there were other noises coming, much smaller, indeed, but oh, how much more dangerous were the two that followed and drove the herd!--a tow-topped boy and a yellow-coated dog. at war with all the world of harmless wood-folk, these two would leave a trail of slaughtered bodies in their wake, if only their weapons were as deadly as their wishes. so silvergray sank back and brooded over the nursery, varying her loving mothering with violent scratching of a hind foot, or sudden pounce to capture with her teeth some shiny, tiny creeping thing among the bed stuff or on the young ones' fluffy skins. the sun was up above the trees. the bluejay sang "_too-root-el-too-root-el_," which means, "all clear." and the glad red singing-hawk was wheeling in great rhythmic swoops to the sound of his own wild note, "_kyo-kyo-kyoooo._" he wheeled and rejoiced in his song and his flight. [illustration] [illustration] "all's clear! all's well!" sang crow and bluejay--these watchful ones, watchful, perforce, because their ways of rapine have filled the world with enemies. and silvergray prepared a second time for the perilous trip. she took the nearest of her babies, gently but firmly, and, scrambling to the door, paused to look and listen, then took the final plunge, went scurrying and scrambling down the trunk. on the ground she paused again, looked forward and back, then to the old nest to see her mate go in and come out again with a young one in his mouth, as though he knew exactly what was doing and how his help was needed. with an angry "_quare!_" she turned and scrambled up again, bumping the baby she bore with many a needless jolt, and met bannertail. nothing less than rage was in her voice, "_quare, quare, quare!_" and she sprang at him. he could not fail to understand. he dropped the baby on a broad, safe crotch, and whisked away to turn and gaze with immeasurable surprise. "isn't that what you wanted, you hothead?" he seemed to say. "didn't we plan to move the kids?" her only answer was a hissing "_quare!_" she rushed to the stranded little one, made one or two vain efforts to carry it, as well as the one already in her mouth, then bounded back to the old home with her own charge, dropped it, came rushing back for the second, took that home, too, then vented all her wrath and warnings in a loud, long "_qua!_" which plainly meant: "you let the kids alone. i don't need your help. i wouldn't trust you. this is a mother's job." [illustration: with an angry "quare!" silvergray scrambled up again] she stayed and brooded over them a long time before making the third attempt. and this time the impulse came from the tickling crawlers in the bed. she looked forth, saw bannertail sitting up high, utterly bewildered. she gave a great warning "_qua!_" seized number one for the third time, and forth she leaped to make the great migration. the wood was silent except for its own contented life, and she got half-way to the new nest, when high on a broad, safe perch she paused and set her burden down. was it the maddening tickling of a crawler that gave the hint, or was it actual wisdom in the lobes behind those liquid eyes? who knows? only this is sure, she looked that baby over from end to end. she hunted out and seized in her teeth and ground to shreds ten of the plaguing crawlers. she combed herself, she scratched and searched her coat from head to tail, and on her neck, where she could not see, she combed and combed, till of this she was certain, no insects of the tickling, teasing kind were going with her to the new home. then seizing her baby by the neck-scruff, up she bounded, and in ten heart-beats he was lying in their new and fragrant bed. for a little while she cuddled him there, to "bait him to it," as the woodsmen say. then, with a parting licking of his head, she quit the nest and hied away for the rest of the brood. bannertail had taken the hint. he was still up high, watching, but not going near the old nest. silvergray took number two and did the very same with him, deloused him thoroughly on the same old perch, then left him with the first. the third went through the same. and silvergray was curled up with the three in the new high nest for long, before bannertail, after much patient, watchful waiting, seeing no return of silvergray, went swinging to the old nest to peep in, and realized that it was empty, cold, abandoned. [illustration] he sat and thought it over. on a high, sunny perch that he had often used, he made his toilet, as does every healthy squirrel, thoroughly combed his coat and captured all, that is, one or two of the crawlers that had come from the old nest. he drank of the spring, went foraging for a while, then swung to the new-made nest and shyly, cautiously, dreading a rebuff, went slowly in. yes, there they were. but would she take him in? he uttered the low, soft, coaxing "_er-er-er-er_," which expresses every gentleness in the range of squirrel thought and feeling. no answer. he made no move, but again gave a coaxing "_er-er-er_," a long pause, then from the hovering furry form in the nest came one soft "_er_," and bannertail, without reserve, glided in and curled about them all. _the coming-out party_ chapter xx the coming-out party april, the green-grass moon, was nearly gone, the graycoats in their new high home were flourishing and growing. happy and ed now, it was an event like a young girl's coming-out, when first these squirrelets came forth from the nest "on their own," and crawling on their trembling legs, with watchful mother nigh. they one by one scrambled on to the roof of the home, and, with a general air of "aren't we big; aren't we wonderful?" they stretched and basked in the bright warm morning sun. [illustration] a hawk came wheeling high over the tree tops. he was not hunting, for he wheeled and whistled as he wheeled. silvergray knew him well, and marked his ample wings. she had seen a redtail raid. this might not be of the bandit kind, but a hawk is a hawk. she gave a low, warning "_chik, chik_" to the family, to which they paid not a whit of attention. so she seized each in turn by the handy neck-scruff, and bundled him indoors to safety. [illustration] three times this took place on different days. three times the mother's vigorous lug home was needed, and by now the lesson was learned. "_chik, chik_" meant "look out; danger; get home." they were growing fast now. their coats were sleek and gray. their tails were as yet poor skimps of things, but their paws were strong and their claws were sharp as need be. they could scramble all about the old hawk nest and up and down the rugged bark of the near trunk. their different dispositions began to show as well as their different gifts and make-up. _nursery days of the young ones_ chapter xxi nursery days of the young ones [illustration] squirrels do not name their babies as we do; they do not think of them by names; and yet each one is itself, has individual looks or ways that stand for that one in the mother's mind, so is in some sort its name. thus the biggest one had a very brown head and a very gray coat. he was stronger than the others, could leap just a little farther and was not so ready to bite when playing with the rest. the second brother was not so big as brownhead, and he had an impatient way of rebelling at any little thing that did not please him. he would explode into a shrill "_cray!_" which was a well-known squirrel exclamation, only he made it very thin and angry. even to father and mother he would shriek "_cray!_" if they did in the least a thing that was not to his wish. the third and smallest was a little girl-squirrel, very shy and gentle. she loved to be petted and would commonly snuggle up to mother, whining softly, "_nyek, nyek_," even when her brothers were playing, as well as at feeding-time. so in this sort they named themselves, brownhead, cray, and nyek-nyek. the first lesson in all young wild life is this, "do as you are told"; the penalty of disobedience is death, not always immediate, not clearly consequent, but soon or late it comes. this indeed is the law, driven home and clinched by ages of experience: "obey or die." [illustration] if the family is outstretched in the sun, and keen-eyed mother sees a hawk, she says, "_chik, chik_," and the wise little ones come home. they obey and live. the rebellious one stays out, and the hawk picks him up, a pleasant meal. if the family is scrambling about the tree trunk and one attempts to climb a long, smooth stretch, from which the bark has fallen, mother cries "_chik, chik_," warning that he is going into danger. the obedient one comes back and lives. the unruly one goes on. there is no clawhold on such trunks. he falls far to the ground and pays the price. if one is being carried from a place of danger, and hangs limp and submissive from his mother's mouth, he is quickly landed in a place of safety. but one that struggles and rebels, may be cut by mother's tightening teeth, or dropped by her and seized on by some enemy at hand. there are always enemies alert for such a chance. or if he swings to drink at the familiar spring and sees not what mother sees, a blacksnake lurking on a log, or heeds not her sharp "keep back," he goes, and maybe takes a single sip, but it is his last. if one, misled by their bright color, persists in eating fruit of the deadly nightshade, ignoring mother's warning, "_quare, quare!_" he eats, he has willed to eat; and there is a little squirrel body tumbled from the nest next day, to claim the kindly care of growing plants and drifting leaves that will hide it from the view. [illustration] yes, this is the law, older than the day when the sun gave birth to our earth that it might go its own way yet still be held in law: "obey and live; rebel and die." _cray hunts for trouble_ chapter xxii cray hunts for trouble [illustration] boisterous, strong, and merry was brownhead, the very son of his father. eager to do and ready to go; yet quick to hear when the warning came, "_quare_," or the home call, "_chik, chik_." well-fleshed was he and deeply fur-clad, although it was scarcely mid-may, and his tail already was past the switch stage and was frilling out with the silver frill of his best kin. frolicsome, merry, and shy, very shy was nyek-nyek. in some speech she would have been styled a "mammy pet." happy with mother, playing with her brothers, but ever ready to go to mother. slight of body, but quick to move, quick to follow, and nervously quick to obey, she grew and learned the learning of her folk. last was cray, quickest of them all, not so heavy as brownhead, yet agile, inquisitive, full of energy, but a rebel all the time. he would climb that long, smooth column above the nest. his mother's warning held him not. and when the clawhold failed he slipped, but jumped and landed safe on a near limb. he would go forth to investigate the loud trampling in the woods, and far below him watched with eager curiosity the big, two-legged thing that soon discovered him. then there was a loud crack like a heavy limb broken by the wind, and the bark beside his head was splintered by a blow that almost stunned him with its shock, although it did not touch him. he barely escaped into the nest. yes, he still escaped. _the little squirrels go to school_ chapter xxiii the little squirrels go to school these are among the lessons that a mother squirrel, by example, teaches, and that in case of failure are emphasized by many little reproofs of voice, or even blows: clean your coat, and extra-clean your tail; fluff it out, try its trig suppleness, wave it, plume it, comb it, clean it; but ever remember it, for it is your beauty and your life. [illustration] when there is danger on the ground, such as the trampling of heavy feet, do not go to spy it out, but hide. if near a hole, pop in; if on a big high limb, lie flat and still as death. do not go to it. let it come to you, if it will. in the air, if there is danger near, as from hawks, do not stop until you have at least got into a dense thicket, or, better still, a hole. if you find a nut when you are not hungry, bury it for future use. nevertheless this lesson counted for but little now, as all last year's nuts were gone, and this year's far ahead. if you must travel on the ground, stop every little while at some high place to look around, and fail not then each time to fluff and jerk your tail. when in the distant limbs you see something that may be friend or foe, keep out of sight, but flirt your white tail tip in his view. if it be a graycoat, it will answer with the same, the wigwag: "i'm a squirrel, too." [illustration: the little squirrels at school] learn and practise, also, the far jumps from tree to tree. you'll surely need them some day. they are the only certain answer to the red-eyed fury that lives on mice, but that can kill squirrels, too, if he catches them; that climbs and jumps, but cannot jump so far as the graycoats, and dare not fall from high, for he has no plumy tail, nothing but a useless little tag. drink twice a day from the running stream, never from the big pond in which the grinning pike and mighty snapper lie in wait. go not in the heat of the day, for then the blacksnake is lurking near, and quicker is he even than a squirrel, on the ground. go not at dusk, for then the fox and the mink are astir. go not by night, for then is the owl on the war-path, silent as a shadow; he is far more to be feared than the swish-winged hawk. drink then at sunrise and before sunset, and ever from a solid log or stone which affords good footing for a needed sudden jump. and remember ever that safety is in the tree tops--in this and in lying low. these were the lessons they slowly learned, not at any stated time or place, but each when the present doings gave it point. brownhead was quick and learned almost overfast; and his tail responding to his daily care was worthy of a grown-up. lithe, graceful nyek-nyek too, was growing wood-wise. cray was quick for a time. he would learn well at a new lesson, then, devising some method of his own, would go ahead and break the rules. his mother's warning "_quare_" held him back not at all. and his father's onslaught with a nip of powerful teeth only stirred him to rebellious fight. _the lopping of the wayward branch_ chapter xxiv the lopping of the wayward branch [illustration] [illustration] curiosity may be the trail to knowledge, but it skirts a dangerous cliff. the rose moon, june, was on the hills, its thrill joy set the whole wood world joy-thrilling. the bannertail family had frolicked in a game of tag-and-catch all around the old hawk nest, and up the long smooth pole went cray to show that he could do it. his mother warned him, "_quare!_" but up he went, and down he came without a hint of failure. then they scattered, scampering for a game of hide-and-seek, when the heavy sound of some big brute a-coming was wind-borne to them. the mother gave the warning "_chik_." three of them quickly got to the safe old nest. silvergray flattened on the up side of a rugged limb; cray, seeing nothing near, and scoffing at their flurry, made for a big crotch into which he could sink from sight if need be, and waited. in vain his mother cried, "_chik_"; cray wouldn't "_chik_"; he wanted to know what it was all about. the heavy trampling sound came near. silvergray peeped over and could see very well; it was the two-legged brute with the yellow yapping four-legs that she more than once had met before. they rambled slashingly around; the yap-cur eagerly wagging his hideous tail. he swung his black snout in the air, gave out a long "_yap!_" another and another. then the two-legs came slowly nearer, staring up into the rooftrees and moving awkwardly sidewise round and round the tree. cray peered out farther to watch him. in vain the wise little mother squirrel whispered "_chik, chik!_" no, he would not "_chik_." as the ground-brute circled the tree, cray, trying to keep him in sight, quit all attempt at hiding. the yellow four-legs yapped excitedly. then the big ground-brute held very still. cray was amused at this; he felt so safe that he called out a derisive "_qua!_" there was a loud sound like thunder, a flash like lightning, and cray fell headlong, splashing the gold-green leaves with his bright, hot young blood. his mother saw him go with a clutching of her mother heart. and mother carey saw him go, and said: "it had to be." for this is the fulfilling of the law; this is the upbuilding of the race; this is the lopping of the wayward branch. [illustration: cray sank--a victim to his folly] [illustration] the big ground-beast below seized on the quivering, warm young body, and yelled aloud: "billy, billee, i got him; a great big silvergray! yahoo!" but the meaning of that was unknown to the little mother and the rest. they only knew that a huge, savage brute had killed their little brother, and was filling the woods with its hideous blood-curdling roars. [illustration] _bannertail falls into a snare_ chapter xxv bannertail falls into a snare bannertail was now in fresh midsummer coat of sleekest gray. his tail was a silver plume, and bigger than himself. his health was perfect. and just so surely as a sick one longs to be and to stay at home, so a lusty squirrel hankers to go a-roaming. swinging from tree to tree, leaping the familiar jump-ways, he left the family one early morning, drank deeply at the spring brook, went on aground "hoppity-hop" for a dozen hops, then stopped to look around and frisk his tail. then on, and again a look around. so he left the hickory woods, and swung a mile away, till at last he was on the far hillside where first he met the redhead. high in a tasselled pine he climbed and sat, and his fine nose took in the pleasant gum smells with the zest that came from their strangeness as much as from their sweetness. [illustration] as he sat he heard a rustling, racketty little noise in the thicket near. flattening to the bough and tightening in his tail he watched. what should appear but his old enemy, the redhead, dragging, struggling with something on the ground, stopping to sputter out his energetic, angry "_snick, snick_," as the thing he dragged caught in roots and twigs. bannertail lay very low and watched intently. the redsquirrel fussed and worked with his burden, now close at hand. bannertail saw that it was a flat, round thing, like an acorn-cup, only many times larger, and reddish, with a big, thick stem on the wrong side--a stem that was white, like new-peeled wood. bannertail had seen such growing in the woods, once or twice; little ones they were, but his nose and his inner guide had said: "let them alone." and here was this fiery little redsquirrel dragging one off as though he had a prize! sometimes he lifted it bodily and made good headway, sometimes it dragged and caught in the growing twigs. at last it got fixed between two, and with the energy and fury that so often go with red hair, the redhead jerked, shoved, and heaved, and the brittle, red-topped toadstool broke in two or three crisp pieces. as he sputtered and squirrel-cussed, there was a warning bluejay note. redhead ran up the nearest tree; as it happened, the one in which was bannertail, and in an instant the enemies were face to face. "scold and fight" is the redsquirrel's first impulse, but when bannertail rose up to full height and spread his wondrous tail the red one was appalled. he knew his foe again; his keen, discriminating nose got proofs of that. the memory of defeat was with him yet. he retreated, snick-sputtering, and finally went wholly out of sight. when all was still, bannertail made his way to the broken mushroom; rosy red and beautiful its cap, snowy white its stem and its crisp, juicy flesh. [illustration] but of this he took no count. the smelling of it was his great chemic test. it had the quaint, earthy odor of the little ones he had seen before, and yet a pungent, food-like smell, like butternuts, indeed, with the sharp pepper tang of the rind a little strong, and a whiff, too, of the many-legged crawling things that he had learned to shun. still, it was alluring as food. and now was a crucial time, a veritable trail fork. had bannertail been fed and full, the tiny little sense of repulsion would have turned the scale, would have reasserted and strengthened the first true verdict of his guides--"bad, let it alone." but it had an attractive nut-like aroma that was sweetly appetizing, that set his mouth a-watering; and this thing turned the scale--he was hungry. [illustration] he nibbled and liked it, and nibbled yet more. and though it was a big, broad mushroom, he stopped not till it all was gone. food, good food it surely was. but it was something more; the weird juices that are the earth-child's blood entered into him and set the fountains of his life force playing with marvellous power. he was elated. he was full of fight. he flung out a defiant "_qua!_" at a hen-hawk flying over. he rummaged through the pines to find that fighting redsquirrel. he leaped tree gaps that he would not at another time have dared. yes, and he fell, too; but the ample silver plume behind was there to land him softly on the earth. he made a long, far, racing journey, saw hills and woods that were new to him. he came to a big farmhouse like the one his youth had known, but passed it by, and galloped to another hillside. from the top of a pine he vented his wild spirits in a boisterous song--the song of spring and fine weather, and the song of autumn time and vigor. the sun was low when, feeling his elation gone, feeling dumb and drowsy, indeed, he climbed the homestead tree and glided into the old hawk nest to curl in his usual place beside his family. silvergray sniffed suspiciously; she smelled his whiskers, she nibble-nibbled with tongue and lips at the odd-smelling specks of whitish food on his coat, and the juices staining his face and paws. new food; it was strange, but pleased her not. a little puzzled, she went to sleep, and bannertail's big tail was coverlet for all the family. [illustration] _the addict_ chapter xxvi the addict the sun came up, with its joyous wakening of the woods. all the squirrel world was bright and alert--all but one. mother went forth to the sun-up meal, brownhead went rollicking forth, and nyek-nyek went gliding, too. but bannertail lay still. he had no words to state his case; he did not know that he had a case to state. he only knew that he was dull and sad, and did not feel the early morning call of joy. the juices of his weird feast were dried on paws and head, and the smell of them, though faint, was nauseating to him. he did not move that day; he had no desire to move. the sun was low when at length he went forth and down. at the crystal spring he drank deep and drank again. silvergray licked his fur when he came back with the youngsters to the nest. he was better now, and next sun-up was himself again, the big, boisterous, rollicking squirrel of the plumy tail, the playmate of the young ones, the husband of his wife. and their merry lives went on, till one morning, on the bank of the creek that flowed from the high hill-country, he found a tiny, shiny fragment of the weird spellbinding mushroom. a table scrap, no doubt, flood-borne from a redhead feast. he sniffed, as he sniffed all new, strange things. a moon back it would have been doubtful or repellent, but he had closed his ears to the first warning of the inner guide; so the warning now was very low. he had yielded to the slight appetite for this weird taste, so that appetite was stronger. he eagerly gobbled the shining, broken bit, and, possessed of keen desire for more, went bounding and pausing and fluffing, farther, farther off, nor stopped till once more high in the hill-country, among the pines and the banks where the toadstools of black magic grew. [illustration] very keen was bannertail when he swung from the overhead highway of the pines to the ground, to gallop over banks with nose alert. nor had he far to go. this was toadstool time, and a scattered band of these embodied earth-sprites was spotting a sunlit bank with their smooth and blushing caps. was there in his little soul still a warning whisper? yes. just a little, a final, feeble "beware, touch it not!"--very faint compared with the first-time warning, and now to be silenced by counter-doings, just as a single trail in the sand is wholly blotted out by a later trail much used that goes counterwise across it. [illustration] just a little pause made he, when the sick smell of the nearest toadstool was felt and measured by his nose. the lust for that strong foody taste was overdominating. he seized and crunched and revelled in the flowing juices and the rank nut taste, the pepper tang, the toothsome mouthiness, and gobbled with growing unreined greed, not one, but two or three--he gorged on them; and though stuffed and full, still filled with lust that is to hunger what wounding is to soft caress. he rushed from one madcap toadstool to another, driving in his teeth, revelling in their flowing juices, like the blood of earthy gnomes, and rushed for joy up one tall tree after another. then, sensing the redsquirrels, pursued them in a sort of berserker rage, eager for fight, desperate fight, any fight, fight without hate, that would outlet his dangerous, boiling power, his overflow of energy. joy and power were possessing his small brain and lusty frame. he found another bank of madcap cups; he was too gorged to eat them, but he tossed and chewed the juicy cups and stems. he raced after a fearsome water-snake on a sunny bank, and, scared by the fury of his onslaught, the snake slipped out of sight. he galloped up a mighty pine-tree, on whose highest limbs were two great flickers, clacking. he chased them recklessly, then, clinging to a bark flake that proved loose, he was launched into the air, a hundred feet to fall. but his glorious tail was there to serve, and it softly let him down to earth. it was well for him that he met no cat or dog that day, for the little earth-born demon in his soul had cast out fear as well as wisdom. and mother carey must have wept as she saw this very dear one take into his body and his brain a madness that would surely end his life. she loved him, but far more she loved his race. and just a little longer she would wait, and give him yet one chance. and if he willed not to be strong, then must he pay the price. not happy was his homecoming that night. silvergray sniffed at his whiskers. she liked not his breath. there was no kindness in her voice, her only sound a harsh, low "_grrrff!_" and the family life went on. _the dregs of the cup_ chapter xxvii the dregs of the cup but next morning! why should it be told? it was as before, but far worse. so high as the peak is above the plain, so far is the plain below the peak. a crushed and broken bannertail it was that lay enfeebled in the nest next day when the family went forth to feed and frolic. [illustration] not that day did he go out, or wish to go. sick unto death was he; so sick he did not care. the rest let him alone. they did not understand, and there was something about him which made them keep away. next day he crawled forth slowly and drank at the spring. that day he lay on the sunning dray and ate but little. more than one sun arose and set before he was again the strong, hale, hearty bannertail, the father of his family, the companion and protector of his wife. _the way of destruction_ chapter xxviii the way of destruction the little mother did not understand; she only had a growing sense of distrust, of repulsion, and an innate hatred of that strange complexity of smells. the children did not understand, but something there was about their father these times that made them much afraid. they knew only the sorrow of it. they had no knowledge of how it came or how to prevent its coming. but big and everywhere is the all-mother, mother carey, the wise one who seeks to have her strong ones build the race. twice had she warned him. now he should have one more chance. [illustration] the thunder-moon, july, was dominating jersey woods, when the lusty life force of the father graycoat inevitably sent him roving to the woods of the madcaps. plenty they were now, and many had been stored by the redsquirrels for winter use, for this is the riddle of their being, that the redsquirrels long ago have learned. on the bank, when they are rooted in the earth, their juices from the underworld are full of diabolic subtlety, are tempting in the mouth as they are deadly in the blood and sure destruction at the last. they must be uprooted, carried far from the ground and the underground, and high hung in the blessed purifying pine tops, where father sun can burn away their evil. there, after long months of sun and wind and rain purgation, their earth-born bodies are redeemed, are wholesome squirrel food. this was the lesson mother carey had taught the redheads, for their country is the country of the fool-trap toadstools. but the graycoats know it not. and bannertail came again. _mother carey's lash_ chapter xxix mother carey's lash the wise men tell us that it is the same as the venom of snakes. they tell us that it comes when the fool-trap toadstool is grown stale, and by these ye may know its hidden presence: when the cap is old and upturned at the edge, when hell-born maggots crawl and burrow and revel in the stem, when drops of gummy, poisonous yellow blood ooze forth, when both its smells--the warning smell of the crawling hundred-legger and the alluring smell of strong green butternuts--are multiplied to fourfold power. [illustration] their day was nearly over. they were now like old worn hags, whose beauty is gone, and with it their power to please--hags who have become embittered and seek only to destroy. so the fool-trap toadstools waited, silently as hunters' deadfalls wait, until the moment comes to strike. [illustration] it was the same sweet piny woods, the same bright sparkling stream, and the song-hawk wheeled and sang the same loud song, as bannertail came once again to seek his earth-born food, to gratify his growing lust. and mother carey led him on. plentifully strewn were the unholy madcaps, broad bent and wrinkled now, their weird aroma stronger and to a morbid taste more alluring. even yet a tiny warning came as he sniffed their rancid, noxious aura. the nut allurement, too, was strong, and bannertail rejoiced. the feast was like the other, but shorter, more restrained. there were little loathsome whiffs and acrid hints that robbed it of its zest. long before half a meal, the little warden that dwells somewhere betwixt mouth and maw began to send offensive messages to his brain, and even with a bite between his teeth there set in strong a fearful devastating revulsion, a climax of disgust, a maw-revolt, an absolute loathing. his mouth was dripping with its natural juice, something gripped his throat, the last morsel was there and seemed to stick. he tight closed his eyes, violently shook his head. the choking lump was shaken out. pains shot through his body. limbs and lungs were cramped. he lay flat on the bank with head down-hill. he jerked his head from side to side with violent insistence. his stomach yielded most of the fateful mass. but the poison had entered into his body, already was coursing in his veins. writhing with agony, overwhelmed with loathing, he lay almost as dead, and the smallest enemy he ever had might now and easily have wreaked the limit of revenge. it was accident so far as he was concerned that made him crawl into a dense thicket and like dead to lie all that day and the night and the next day. and dead he would have been but for the unusual vigor of his superb body. good mother carey kept his enemies away. back at the home nest the mate and family missed him, not much or pointedly, as would folk of a larger brain and life, but they missed him; and from the tall, smooth shaft that afternoon the little mother sent a long "_qua_" call. but there was no answering "_qua_." she had no means of knowing; she had no way of giving help had she known. the sun was low on jersey hills that second day when poor broken bannertail, near-dead bannertail, came to himself, his much-enfeebled self. his head was throbbing, his body was cramped with pain, his mouth was dry and burning. down-hill he crawled and groped slowly to the running stream and drank. it revived him a little, enough so he could crawl up the bank and seek a dry place under a log to lie in peace--sad, miserable, moaning peace. three days he suffered there, but the fever had turned on that first night; from the moment of that cooling drink he was on the mend. for food he had no wish, but daily and deeply he drank at the stream. on that third day he was well enough to scramble up the hill; he passed a scattering group of the earthy madcaps. oh, how he loathed them; their very smell set his mouth a-dripping, refusing its own proper juice. [illustration] good things there were to eat on the ground, but he had little appetite, though for three days he had not eaten. he passed by fat white grubs and even nuts, but when he found some late wild strawberries he munched them eagerly. their acid sweetness, their fragrant saneness, were what his poor sick body craved. he rested, then climbed a leaning tree. he had not strength for a real climb. in an old abandoned flicker hole he curled himself in safety, and strong, gentle mother nature, mother carey, loving ever the brave ones that never give up, now spread her kindly influence, protecting, round about him and gave him blessed, blessed sleep. [illustration] _his awakening_ chapter xxx his awakening it was late on that fourth day when bannertail awoke. he was a little better now. he slowly went down that tree, tail first; very sick, indeed, is a squirrel when he goes down a tree tail first. sweet, cooling water was his need, and again a fragrant meal of the tonic strawberries; then back to the tree. [illustration] next day he was up with the morning robins, and now was possessed of the impulse to go home. vague pictures of his mate and little ones, and the merry home tree, came on his ever-clearer brain. he set out with a few short hops, as he used to go, and, first sign of sanity, he stopped to fluff his tail. he noticed that it was soiled with gum. nothing can dethrone that needful basic instinct to keep in order and perfect the tail. he set to work and combed and licked each long and silvered hair; he fluffed it out and tried its billowy beauty, and having made sure of its perfect trim he kept on, cleaned his coat, combed it, went to the brook-side and washed his face and paws clean of every trace of that unspeakable stuff, and in the very cleansing gave himself new strength. sleek and once more somewhat like himself he was, when on he went, bounding homeward with not short bounds, but using every little lookout on the way to peer around and fluff and jerk his tail. back at the home tree at last, nearly seven suns had come and gone since the family had seen him. [illustration] the first impulse of the little mother was hostility. a stranger is always a hostile in the woods. but he flicked the white flag on his tail tip, and slowly climbed the tree. the youngsters in alarm had hidden in the nest at mother's "_chik, chik_." she came cautiously forward. his looks were familiar yet strange. here now was the time to use caution. he swung up nearly to the door. she stood almost at bay, uttered a little warning "_ggrrrfffhh_." he crawled up closer. she spread her legs, clutched firmly on the bark above him. he wigwagged his silver tail-tip and, slowly drawing nearer, reached out. their whiskers met; she sniffed, smell-tested him. no question now. a little changed, a little strange, but this was surely her mate. she wheeled and went into the nest. he came more slowly after, put in his head, gave a low, soft "_er_." there was no reply and no hostile move. he crawled right in, his silver plume was laid about them all, and the reunited family slept till the hour arrived for evening meal. _the unwritten law_ chapter xxxi the unwritten law this is the law of the all-mother, the more immovable because unwritten; this is the law of surfeit. many foods there are which are wholesome, except that they have in them a measure of poison. for these the all-mother has endowed the wild things' bodies with a subtle antidote, which continues self-replenishing so long as the containing flask is never wholly emptied. but if it so chance that in some time of fearful stress the flask is emptied, turned upside down, drained dry, it never more will fill. the small alembic that distils it breaks, as a boiler bursts if it be fired while dry. thenceforth the toxin that it overcame has virulence and power; that food, once wholesome, is a poison now. [illustration] a "surfeit" men call this breaking of the flask; all too well is it known. by this, unnumbered healthful foods--strawberries, ice-cream, jam, delicate meat, eggs, yes, even simple breads can by the devastating drain of one rash surfeit be turned into very foods of death. the poison always was there, but the secret, neutralizing chemical is gone, the elixir is destroyed, and by the working of the law its deadly power is loosed. as poor second now to this lost and subtle protection, the all-mother endows the body with another, one of a lower kind. she makes that food so repellent to the unwise, punished creature that he never more desires it. she fills him with a fierce repulsion, the bodily rejection that men call "nausea." this is the law of surfeit. bannertail had fallen foul of it, and mother carey, loving him as she ever loves her strong ones, had meted out the fullest measure of punishment that he, with all his strength, could bear and yet come through alive. [illustration] the red moon of harvest was at hand. the graycoat family was grown, and happy in the fulness of their lives, and bannertail was hale and filled with the joy of being alive, leading his family beyond old bounds, teaching them the ways of the farther woods, showing them new foods that the season brings. he, wise leader now, who once had been so unwise. then mother carey put him to the proof. she led, he led them farther than they had ever gone before, to the remotest edge of the hickory woods. on a bank half sunlit as they scampered over the leaves and down the logs, he found a blushing, shining gnome-cap, an earth-born madcap. yes, the very same, for in this woods they came, though they were rare. one whiff, one identifying sniff of that satanic exhalation, and bannertail felt a horrid clutching at his throat, his lips were quickly dripping, his belly heaved, he gave a sort of spewing, gasping sound, and shrank back from that shining cap with eyes that bulged in hate, as though he saw a snake. there is no way of fully telling his bodily revulsion. the thing that once was so alluring, was so loathsome that he could not stand its fetid odor on the wind. and the young ones were caught by the unspoken horror of the moment, they took it in; they got the hate sense. they tied up that horror in their memories with that rank and sickly smell. they turned away, bannertail to drink in the running brook, to partly forget in a little while, yet never quite to forget. he was saved, the great all-mother had saved him, which was a good thing, but not in itself a great thing. this was the great thing, that in that moment happened--the loathing of the earth-born fiend was implanted in his race, and through them would go on to bless his generations yet to be. [illustration] _squirrel games_ chapter xxxii squirrel games games are used among wild animals for the training of the young. king of the castle, tag, hide-and-seek, follow-my-leader, catch-as-catch-can, wrestling, coasting, high-dive, and, in rare cases, even ball games are enjoyed. most of them were in some sort played by the young squirrels. but these are world-wide, they had one or two that were peculiarly their own, and of these the most exciting was the dangerous game of "teasing the hawk." [illustration] three kinds of big hawks there are in the squirrel woods in summertime: the hen-hawk that commonly sails high in the air, screaming or whistling, and that at other times swoops low and silent through the woods, and always is known by his ample wings and bright red tail; the gray chicken-hawk that rarely soars, but that skims among the trees or even runs on the ground, whose feathers are gray-brown, and whose voice is a fierce _crek, crek, creek_; and the song-hawk or singer, who is the size of the chicken-hawk, but a harmless hunter of mice and frogs, and known at all seasons by the stirring song that he pours out as he wheels like a skylark high in the blue. [illustration] the inner guide had warned the boisterous bannertail to beware of all of them. experience taught him that they will attack, and yet are easily baffled, if one does but slip into a hole or thicket, or even around the bole of a tree. many times that summer did bannertail avoid the charge of redtail or chicken-hawk by the simple expedient of going through a fork or a maze of branches. there was no great danger in it, as long as he kept his head; and it did not disturb him, or cause his heart a single extra beat. it became a regular incident in his tree-top life, just as a stock man is accustomed to the daily danger of a savage bull, but easily eludes any onset by slipping through a fence. it does not cause him a tremor, he is used to it; and men there are who make a sport of it, who love to tease the bull, who enjoy his helpless rage as he vainly tries to follow. his mighty strength is offset by their cunning and agility. it is a pretty match, a very ancient game, and never quite loses zest, because the bull does sometimes win; and then there is one less bull-teaser on the stock-range. this was the game that bannertail evolved. sure of himself, delighting in his own wonderful agility, he would often go out to meet the foe, if he saw the hen-hawk or the chicken-hawk approaching. he would flash his silver tail, and shrill "_grrrff, grrrff_," by way of challenge. [illustration] the hen-hawk always saw. "keen-eyed as a hawk" is not without a reason. and, sailing faster than a driving leaf, he would swish through the hickory woods to swoop at the challenging squirrel. but just as quick was bannertail, and round the rough trunk he would whisk, the hawk, rebounding in the air to save himself from dashing out his brains or being impaled, would now be greeted on the other side by the head and flashing tail of the squirrel, and another with loud, defiant "_ggrrrffhh, grggrrrffhh_." down again would swoop the air bandit, quicker than a flash, huge black claws advanced, and bannertail would wait till the very final instant, rejoicing in his every nerve at tension, and just as those deadly grappling-irons of the hawk were almost at his throat, he would duck, the elusive, baffling tail would flash in the hawk's very face, and the place the graycoat had occupied on the trunk was empty. the grapnels of the hawk clutched only bark; and an instant later, just above, the teasing head and the flaunting tail of bannertail would reappear, with loudly voiced defiance. the hawk, like the bull, is not of gentle humor. he is a fierce and angry creature, out to destroy; his anger grows to fury after such defeat, he is driven wild by the mockery of it, and oftentimes he begets such a recklessness that he injures himself by accident, as he charges against one of the many sharp snags that seem ever ready for the squirrel-kind's defense. yes, a good old game it is, with the zest of danger strong. but there is another side to it all. [illustration] _when bannertail was scarred for life_ chapter xxxiii when bannertail was scarred for life it makes indeed merry play, with just enough of excitement when you bait the bull, and dodge back to the fence to laugh at his impotent raging. but it makes a very different chapter when a second bull comes on the other side of the fence. then the game is over, the bull-baiter must find some far refuge or scramble up the nearest sheltering tree, or pay the price. bannertail had an ancient feud with the big hen-hawk, whose stick nest was only a mile away, high in a rugged beech. there were a dozen farmyards that paid unwilling tribute to that hawk, a hundred little meadows with their mice and meadowlarks, and one open stretch of marsh with its muskrats and its ducks. but the hardwood ridges, too, he counted on for dues. the squirrels all were his, if only he could catch them. many a game had he and bannertail, a game of life and death. [illustration] they played again that morning in july. it was the same old swooping of the whistling pinions, and the grasping of strong yellow feet with hard black claws, grasping at nothing, where was a graycoat half a heartbeat back, the same flaunting silver flag, the mocking "_grrrff, grrrff_," the teasing and daring of the hawk to make another swoop. then did that big hen-hawk what he should have done before. he filled the air with his war-cry, the long screaming "_yek-yek-yeeeek!_" coursing low and swift came another, his mate, the lady bandit, even fiercer than himself. swift and with little noise she came. and when savage old yellow-eyes swooped and bannertail whisked around the tree, he whisked right into the clutches of the deadlier she-one. he barely escaped by a marvellous side rush around the trunk. here again was yellow-eyes, but right in his face bannertail dashed his big silvery tail. the hawk in his haste clutched at its nothingness, or he would have got the graycoat. but luck was with bannertail, and again he dodged around the trunk. alas, the she hawk was there, and struck; her mighty talons grazed his haunch, three rips they made in his glossy, supple coat. in an instant more the redtail would have trussed him, for there was no cover, only the big, outstanding trunk, with the hen-hawks above and below. a moment more and bannertail's mate, helpless in the distant nest, would have seen him borne away. but as they closed, he leaped--leaped with all his strength, far from them into open air, and faster than they could fly in such a place, down, down, his silver plume in function just behind him, down a hundred feet to fall and land in a thicket of laurel, wounded and bleeding, but safe. he scrambled into a thicker maze, and gazed with new and tenser feelings at the baffled hen-hawks, circling, screaming high above him. [illustration] soon the bandits gave up. clearly the graycoat had won, and they flew to levy their robber-baron tribute on some others that they held to be their vassals. [illustration: a dangerous game] yes, bannertail had won, by a narrow lead. he had taken a mighty hazard and had learned new wisdom--never play the game with death till you have to, for if you win one hundred times and lose once you have lost your whole stake. on his haunch he carried, carries yet, the three long scars, where the fur is a little paler--the brand of the robber baroness, the slash of the claws that nearly got him. [illustration] have you noted that in the high alleghenies, where the graycoats seldom see hunters of any kind, they scamper while the enemy is far away; but they peer from upper limbs and call out little challenges? in jersey woods, where a wiser race has come, they never challenge a near foe; they make no bravado rushes. they signal if they see an enemy near, then hide away in perfect stillness till that enemy, be it hawk in air or hound on earth, is far away, or in some sort ceases to be a menace. and menfolk hunters, who tell of their feats around the glowing stove in the winter-time, say there is a new race of graycoats come. any gunner could kill one of the old sort, but it takes a great hunter such as themselves to get one of the new. this latter-day graycoat has gotten much wisdom into his little brain, and one of the things he knows: "it never pays to gamble with destruction." the new race, they say, began in a certain hickory wood. we know that wood, and we have seen a little how the wisdom came, and can easily reason why it spread. [illustration] _the fight with the black demon_ chapter xxxiv the fight with the black demon next in importance to the squirrels, after the towering trees with their lavish bounty, was the brook that carried down scraps of the blue sky to inlay them with green moss, purple logs, and gold-brown stones, that sang its low, sweet song both day and night, and that furnished to the family their daily drink. "do not drink at the pond" is a squirrel maxim, for in it lurks the fearful snapping turtle and the grinning pike. its banks are muddy, too, and the water warm. it is better to drink from some low log, along the brook itself. [illustration] and do not drink in the blinding sunlight, which makes it hard to see if danger is near; then, too, it is that the blacksnake crawls out to seek some basking place in the hottest sun. [illustration] yes, this is squirrel wisdom; the morning drink is at sunrise, the evening at sunset, when the cool shade is on the woods but darkness not begun. the graycoat family held together still, though the harvest-moon was red in the low eastern sky. some squirrel families break up as soon as the young are nearly grown. but some there are that are held together longer, very long, by unseen bonds of sympathy with which they have been gifted in a little larger measure than is common. brownhead was much away, living his own life. still, he came home. nyek-nyek, gentle, graceful nyek-nyek, clung to her mother and the old nest, like a very weanling; and rest assured that in squirrel-land, as in others, love is begotten and intensified by love. the morning drink and the morning meal were the established daily routine. then came a time of exercise and play. but all squirrels that are hale and wise take a noonday nap. each was stretched on one or other of the sleeping platforms, lying lazily at ease one noontime. the day was very hot, and the sun swung round so it glared on nyek-nyek's sleeping-porch. panting soon with the heat, she decided to drink, swung to the gangway of their huge trunk and started down the tree. the little mother, ever alert, watched the young one go. there was in her heart just a shadow of doubt, of distrust, much as a human mother might feel if she saw her toddler venture forth alone into the night. nyek-nyek swung to the ground, coursed in billowy ripples of silver-gray along a log, stopped on a stump to look around and religiously fluff her tail, while mother dreamily watched through half-closed eyes. then out into the brilliant sunlight she went. some creatures are dazed and made lazy by the hot, bright glare, some find in it a stimulant, a multiplier of their life force; it sets their senses on a keener edge; it gifts them with new speed, intensifies their every power. the graycoats are of the first kind, and of the second was coluber, the long, black, shiny, blue-black snake that was lying like a limp and myriad-linked chain flung across a big, low log--a log that sucked the sun heat as it lay, just where the brook expanded to the pond. never a blink was there in those gray-green eyes, never a quiver in that long, lithe tongue. one not knowing would have said he is dead; one knowing him well would have said he is filling up his storage-batteries to the full. never a wriggle was there in even the nervous tail tip, that nearly always switches to and fro; yet not a move of the squirrel since she left her sleeping porch was lost on him. what was it gave a new pathway to the young graycoat? was it mother carey who led her with a purpose? not to the familiar log she went, where the family had always found an ideal footing when they took the morning drink, but down-stream, toward the pond and on to the little muddy shore. [illustration] the mother squirrel saw that, and her feeling of doubt grew stronger. she rose up to follow, but gazed a moment to see a sudden horror. just as the little nyek-nyek stooped and sank her face deep to her eyes in the cooling flood, the blacksnake sprang, sprang from his coil as a blacksnake springs, when the victim is within the measured length. sprang with his rows of teeth agape, clinched on her neck, and in a trice the heavy coils, tense with energy, ridged with muscle, flash-lapped around her neck and loins, gripped in an awful grip, while the lithe, live scaly tail wrapped round a branch to anchor both killer and victim to the place. one shriek of "_qua_," another fainter, and a final gasp, and no more sound from nyek-nyek. but she struggled, a hopeless, helpless struggle. the mother saw it all. fear of that terrible snake was forgotten. not one moment did she pause. she did not clamber down that tree. she leaped to the next and a lower yet, and along a log; five heart-beats put her on the spot; and with all her force she drove her teeth into the hard, scaly coil of the beast that she held in mortal fear. with a jerk the monster quit his neck hold on the young one. she was helpless, bound in his coil, and the snake's dread jaws with the rows of pointed teeth clamped on the mother's neck, and another fold of that long, hellish length was hitched around her throat. scratch she could and struggle, but bite she could not, for the coil held her as in a vise. for a moment only could she make a sound, the long, long, screaming "_queeee_," the squirrel call for help; and bannertail, lazily dozing on his sunning perch, sprang up and set his ears acock. [illustration] it was not repeated, but the sound of struggle was there, and the keen-eyed father squirrel saw the flash of a silver tail, the signal of his kind. and from that perch high in the air he leaped in one long, parachuting leap; he landed on the ground, and in three mighty bounds he was at the place. the horror of the snake was on him. it set his coat a-bristling; but it did not hold him back. it only added desperation to his onset. clutching that devilish scaly neck with both his arms, he drove in his chisel teeth and ground them in, down to the very bone, as silvergray could not have done. he worked and tugged and stabbed again, and the snake, sensing a new and stronger foe, relaxed on silvergray, snapped with his hateful jaws, seized bannertail's strong shoulder just where he best could stand it--where the skin is thick and strong the blacksnake drove in and gripped. and bannertail, as quick, quit his first hold on the coil that was strangling nyek-nyek, and by good luck, or maybe by better wisdom than his own, drove, fighting fierce, into the demon's throat, the weak spot in that scaly armor. deep sank the squirrel's teeth, and pangs of mortal agony went thrilling through the reptile's length. but he was strong, and a desperate fighter, too. the coils unloosed on the senseless form of nyek-nyek and lapped in a trice on bannertail, three times round, straining, crushing, while his rows of cruel fangs were sunk in the squirrel's silvery side. [illustration: the battle with the blacksnake] [illustration] but in throwing all his force against bannertail he released the little gray mother. she flung herself again on the black horror, and bit with all her power the head that was gripped on the shoulder of her mate. very narrow is the demon reptile's head, and only one place was open, offered to her grip. she bit with all her force across the eyes, her long, sharp chisels entered in. his eyes were pierced, his brain was stung. with an agonizing last convulsion he wrenched on bannertail, then, quivering with a palsy that changed to a springing open of the coils, he dashed his head from side to side, lashed his tail, heaved this way and that, coiled up, then straightened out. the squirrels leaped back, the monster lashed in writhing convolutions, felt the cool water that he could no longer see, went squirming out upon it, working his frothy jaws, lashing, thrashing with his tail. then up from the darkest depths came a hideous goggle-eyed head, a monstrous head, as big as a squirrel's whole body, and on it a horny beak, which, opening, showed a huge red maw, and the squirming blacksnake was seized by the bigger brute. crushed and broken in those mighty jaws was the black one's supple spine; torn open by those great claws was his belly, ended was his life. the snapper sank, taking the blacksnake with him. it was the finish of an ancient feud between them, and down in the dark depths of the pond the water demon feasted on the body of his foe. [illustration] and bannertail, the brave fighter, with the heroic little mother and nyek-nyek now revived, drew quickly back to safety. a little cut they were, but mostly breathless, their very wind squeezed out by those dread coils. the ripples on the pool had scarcely died before they were all three again in the dear old nest, with brownhead back anew from a far journey. without words, were they to tell of their thrills and fears, or their joy; but this reaction came: they cuddled up in the nest, a little closer than before, a little more at one, a little less to feel the scatteration craze that comes in most wild families when the young are grown; which meant these young will have for a little longer the good offices of their parents, and are thereby fitted a little better for the life-battle, a little more likely to win. is it not by such accumulating little things that brain and brawn and the world success of every dominating race of creatures has been built? [illustration] _the property law among animals_ chapter xxxv the property law among animals that was the year of the wonderful nut crop. it is commonly so; the year of famine is followed by one of plenty. red oaks and white were laden, as well as the sweet shag hickories. and the bannertail family in their grove watched with a sort of owner pride the thick green hanging clusters of their favorite food. [illustration] like small boys too eager to await the baking of their cake, nibbling at the unsatisfactory half-done dough, they cut and opened many a growing nut. its kernel, very small as yet, was good; but the rind, oozing its green-brown juices, stained their jaws and faces, yes,--their arms and breasts, till it was hard to recognize each other in these dark-brown masks. for the disfigurement they cared nothing. only when the thick sap, half drying, gummed his silvery plume, did bannertail abandon other pursuits to lick and clear and thoroughly comb that priceless tail; and what he did, the others, by force of his energetic example, were soon compelled to do. the hunting-moon, september, came. the nuts were fully grown but very green. "who owns the nuts?" is an old question in the woods. usually they are owned by the one who can possess them effectively, although there are some restraining, unwritten laws. [illustration] squirrels have three well-marked ideas of property. first, of the nesting-place which they have possessed, and the nest which they have built; second, the food which they have found or stored; third, the range which is their homeland--the boundaries of which are not well-defined--but most jealously held against those of their own kind. the homeland is also held against all who eat their foods so that it is part of the food-property sense. all three were strong in bannertail; and his growing pride in the coming nut yield was much like that of a farmer who, by the luck of good weather, is blessed with a bumper crop of corn. it seemed as though word of the coming feast had spread to other and far-off places, for many other nut-eaters kept drifting that way, turning up in the hickory woods that the graycoats thought their own. [illustration] the bluejay and the redheaded woodpecker came. they pecked long and hard at the soggy husks to get at the soft, sweet, milk-white meat. they did little damage, for their beaks were not strong enough to twist off the nuts and carry them away, but the graycoats felt that these were poachers and drove them off. of course it was easy for the birds to keep out of reach, but they hovered about, stealing--yes, that was what the squirrels thought about it--stealing the hickory harvest when they could. [illustration] then came other poachers, the redsquirrel with his mate, cheeky, brazen-fronted, aggressive as usual; they would come quietly, when the graycoats were asleep or elsewhere, and proceed to cut the nut bunches. many times the only notice of their presence was the sudden "thump, thump" of the nut bunch striking the ground after the red one had cut it loose. his intention had been to go down quietly after it, split the husks, and carry off the luscious, half-ripe nuts to his storehouse. but the racket called the graycoats' attention. bannertail and brownhead would rush forth like settlers to fight off an indian raid, or like householders to save their stuff from burglars. there was little actual fighting to do with the red ones, for they had learned to fear and fly from the graycoats, but they did not fly far. their safest refuge was a hole underground, where graycoats could not or would not follow, and after waiting for quiet the red robber would come out again, and sometimes, at least, get away with a load of the prized nuts. new enemies approached one day, nothing less than other graycoats, some squirrels of their own kind, travelling from some other land, travelling, maybe, like joseph and his brethren, away from a place of famine, till now they found an egypt, a land of plenty. against them bannertail went vigorously to war. it is well known that the lawful owner fights more valiantly, with more heart, with indomitable courage indeed, while the invader is in doubt. he lacks the backing of a righteous cause. he half expects to be put to flight, even as he goes forth to battle. and the bannertails were able to make good their claims to the hickory grove. yet it kept them ever alert, ever watchful, ever ready to fight. partly because the nuts were already good food, and partly because it kept others from stealing them, the graycoats cut some of the crop in september. _gathering the great nut harvest_ chapter xxxvi gathering the great nut harvest in the leaf-falling-moon, october, the husks began to dry and split, and the nuts to fall of themselves. then was seen a wild, exciting time, the stirring of habits and impulses laid in the foundations of the race. [illustration] no longer wabbly or vague, as in that first autumn, but fully aroused and dominating was the instinct to gather and bury every precious, separate nut. bannertail had had to learn slowly and partly by seeing the redsquirrels making off with the prizes. but he had learned, and his brood had the immediate stimulus of seeing him and their mother at work; and because he was of unusual force, it drove him hard, with an urge that acted like a craze. he worked like mad, seizing, stripping, smelling, appraising, marking, weighing every nut he found. [illustration] [illustration] what, weighing it? yes, every nut was weighed by the wise harvester. how? by delicate muscular sense. it was held for a moment between the paws, and if it seemed far under weight it was cast aside as worm-eaten, empty, worthless; if big, but merely light in weight, that meant probably a fat worm was within. then that nut was split open and the worm devoured. a wormy nut was never stored. if the nut was heavy, round, and perfect, the fine balance in the paws and the subtle sense of smell asserted the fact, and then it was owner-marked. how? by turning it round three times in the mouth, in touch with the tongue. this left the personal touch of that squirrel on it, and would protect it in a measure from being carried off by other graysquirrels, especially when food abounded. then, rushing off several hops from the place where the last nut was buried, bannertail would dig deep in the ground, his full arm's length, ram down the nut held in his teeth; then, pushing back the earth with snout and paws, would tamp that down, replacing the twigs and dry leaves so the nut was safely hidden. then to the next, varying the exercise by dashing, not after the visiting graysquirrels--they kept their distance--but after some thieving chipmunk or those pestiferous redsquirrels who sought sometimes to unearth his buried treasure. or, he would dart noisily up the tree, to chase the bluejays who were trying to rob them of the nuts not yet fallen; then back to earth again, where was his family--silvergray, brownhead, and nyek-nyek--inspired by his example, all doing as he did, working like beavers, seizing, husking, weighing, marking, digging, dig-dig-digging and burying nuts all day long. hundreds of these little graves they dug, till the ground under every parent tree was a living, crowded burying-ground of the tree's own children. morning, noon, and evening they worked, as long as there was light enough to see. a cool night and another drying day brought down another hickory shower. and the graycoats worked without ceasing. they were tired out that night. they had driven off a score of robbers, they had buried at least a thousand nuts, each in a separate hole. the next day was an even more strenuous time. for seven full days they worked, and then the precious nut harvest was over. acorns--red and white and yellow--might come later, and some be buried and some not. the bluejays, woodpeckers, and the redsquirrels would get a handsome share, and pile them up in storehouses, a day's gathering in one place, for such is their way, but the hickory-nuts were the precious things that counted for the bannertail brood. ten thousand at least had the graycoats buried, each an arm's length down, and deftly hidden, with the trash of the forest floor replaced. this undoubtedly was their only impulse, to bury the rich nuts for future use as food. but nature's plan was larger. there were other foods in the woods at this season. the squirrels would not need the precious hickories for weeks or months; all sign that might mark the burial-place would be gone. when really driven by need the squirrels would come and dig up these caches. memory of the locality first, then their exquisite noses would be their guides. they would find most of the nuts again. but not all. some would escape the diggers, and what would happen to these? _they would grow._ yes, that was nature's plan. the acorns falling and lying on the ground can burst their thin coats, send down a root and up a shoot at once, but the hickory must be buried or it will dry up before it grows. this is the hickory's age-old compact with the graysquirrel: you bury my nuts for me, plant my children, and you may have ninety-five per cent of the proceeds for your trouble, so long only as you save the other five per cent and give them a chance to grow up into hickory-trees. [illustration] this is the unwritten but binding bargain that is observed each year. and this is the reason why there are hickory-trees wherever there are graysquirrels. where the graycoats have died out the hickory's days are numbered. and foolish man, who slays the graysquirrel in his reckless lust for killing, is also destroying the precious hickory-trees, whose timber is a mainstay of the nation-feeding agriculture of the world. he is like the fool on a tree o'erhanging the abyss, who saws the very limb on which depends his life. _and to-day_ chapter xxxvii and to-day his race still lives in jersey woods; they have come back into their own. go forth, o wise woodman, if you would become yet wiser. go in the dew-time after rain, when the down, dry leaves have lost their tongues. go softly as you may, you will see none of the squirrel-kind, for they are better woodmen than you. but sit in silence for half an hour, so the discord of your coming may be forgotten. then a little signal, "_qua_," like the quack of a wild-duck, will be answered by the countersign, "_quaire_"; then there will be wigwag signal flashes with silver tail-tips. "all's well!" is the word they are passing, and if you continue very discreet and kind, they will take up their lives again. the silent trees will give up dryad forms, not many, not hundreds, not even scores, but a dozen or more, and they will play and live their greenwood lives about you, unafraid. they will come near, if you still emanate unenmity, so you may see clearly the liquid eyes, the vibrant feelers on their legs and lips. and if these be tree-top wood-folk, very big and strong of their kind, with silvery coats and brownie caps, and tails that are of marvellous length and fluff, like puffs of yellow smoke with silver frills or flashes of a white light about them, then be sure of this, by virtue of the sleek, lithe beauty of their outer forms and the quick wood-wisdom of their little brains--you are watching a clan of bannertail's own brood. [illustration] and, further, rest assured that when the hard nuts fall next autumn-time, mother carey has at hand a chosen band of planters for her trees, and a noble forest for another age will be planted on these hills, timber for all time. [illustration] * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. page 27, "growthth at" changed to "growth that" (growth that are marked) page 46, "off" changed to "of" (of basswood buds) [illustration] uncle wiggily's (trade mark registered) automobile _by_ howard r. garis _author of_ "uncle wiggily bedtime stories", "uncle wiggily's picture book", "uncle wiggily's story book", etc. _illustrated by_ louis wisa [illustration] a. l. burt company publishers new york uncle wiggily books (trade mark registered) _by_ howard r. garis * * * * * bedtime stories uncle wiggily and charlie and arabella chick uncle wiggily and the ringtails uncle wiggily on sugar island uncle wiggily at the seashore uncle wiggily and baby bunty uncle wiggily in the country uncle wiggily's puzzle book uncle wiggily in the woods uncle wiggily's adventures uncle wiggily's automobile uncle wiggily on the farm uncle wiggily's bungalow uncle wiggily's fortune uncle wiggily's travels uncle wiggily's airship * * * * * larger uncle wiggily volumes * * * * * uncle wiggily's picture book _33 full colored illustrations and 32 in black and white_ uncle wiggily's story book _16 full colored illustrations and 29 in black and white_ _copyright 1913 by_ r. f. fenno & company uncle wiggily's automobile * * * * * _printed in the united states of america_ publisher's note these stories appeared originally in the evening news, of newark, n. j., and are reproduced in book form by the kind permission of the publishers of that paper, to whom the author extends his thanks. uncle wiggily's automobile * * * * * story i uncle wiggily and the sorrowful crow once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was an old rabbit gentleman named uncle wiggily longears. he was related to johnnie and billie bushytail, the squirrels, as well as being an uncle to sammie and susie littletail, his rabbit nephew and niece. and uncle wiggily lived near jackie and peetie bow wow, the puppy dogs, while, not far away was the home of the wibblewobble family of ducks, and across the street, almost, around the corner by the old slump, were the kat children, and neddie and beckie stubtail, the nice bear children. one day uncle wiggily was not feeling very well, so he sent for dr. possum, who soon came over. dr. possum found uncle wiggily sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch of the hollow stump house where he lived. "well, what is the trouble, uncle wiggily?" asked dr. possum, as he looked over the tops of his glasses. "i am sick," answered the rabbit gentleman. "sick; eh?" exclaimed dr. possum. "let me see. put out your tongue!" uncle wiggily did so. "ha! hum!" exclaimed dr. possum. "yes, i think you are ill, and you will have to do something for it right away." "what will i have to do?" asked uncle wiggily, anxious-like, and his nose twinkled like a star on a frosty night. "you will simply have to go away," said dr. possum. "there is no help for it." "i don't see why!" exclaimed uncle wiggily, and he bent one of his long ears forward and the other backward, until he looked as if he had the letter v on top of his head. but, of course, he hadn't, for that letter is in the reading book--or it was the last time i looked. "yes," said dr. possum, "you must go away." "i don't see why," said uncle wiggily again. "couldn't i get well at home here?" "no, you could not," replied dr. possum. "if you want me to tell you the truth----" "oh, always tell the truth!" exclaimed uncle wiggily, quickly. "always!" "well, then," said dr. possum, as he looked in his medicine case, to see if he had any strong peppermint for aunt jerushia ann, the little, nervous old lady woodchuck. "well, then, to tell you the truth, you are getting too fat, and you must take more exercise." "exercise!" cried uncle wiggily. "why! don't i play a game of scotch checkers with grandfather goosey gander, the old gentleman duck, nearly every day? and we always eat the sugar cookies we use for checkers." "that's just it," said dr. possum, as he rolled up a sweet sugar-pill for sammie littletail, the mill rabbit boy; "you eat too much, and you don't jump around enough." "but i used to," said uncle wiggily, while he twinkled his pink nose like a red star on a frosty night. "why, don't you remember the time i went off and had a lot of adventures, and how i traveled after my fortune, and found it?" "that is just the trouble," spoke dr. possum. "you found your fortune, and since you became rich you do nothing. i remember the time when you used to teach sammie and susie littletail how to keep out of traps, and how to dig burrows and watch out for savage dogs." "ah, yes!" sighed uncle wiggily. "those were happy days." "and healthful days, too," said dr. possum. "you were much better off then, and not so fat." "and so you think i had better start traveling again?" asked uncle wiggily, taking off his high hat and bowing politely to uncle lettie, the nice goat lady, who was passing by, with her two horns sticking through holes in her sunday-go-to-meeting bonnet. "yes, it would be the best thing for you," spoke dr. possum. "medicine is all right sometimes, but fresh air, and sunshine, and being out-of-doors, and happy and contented, and helping people, as uncle booster, the old ground hog gentleman, used to do--all these are better than medicine." "how is uncle booster, by the way?" inquired the rabbit gentleman. "fine! he helped a little girl mouse to jump over a mud puddle the other day, and after she was on the other side she jumped back, all by herself, and fell in," said dr. possum, with a laugh. "that's the kind of a gentleman uncle booster is!" "ha! ha!" exclaimed uncle wiggily. "that's queer! but now do you think it would do me any good to start off and have some adventures in my automobile?" "it would be better to walk," said dr. possum. "remember you called me in to tell you what was the matter with you, because you felt ill. and i tell you that you must go around more; take more exercise. still, if you had rather go in your auto than walk, i have no objections." "i had much rather," said uncle wiggily. "i like my auto." "then," said dr. possum, "i will write that as a prescription." so on a piece of white birch bark he wrote: "one auto ride every day, to be taken before meals. dr. possum." "i'll do it at once," said the rabbit gentleman. uncle wiggily longears was a quite rich, you know, having found his fortune, of about a million yellow carrots, as i have told you in some other stories, so he could afford to have an auto. and it was the nicest auto you could imagine. it had a turnip for a steering wheel, and whenever uncle wiggily got hungry he could take a bite of turnip. sometimes after a long trip the steering wheel would be all eaten up, and old circus dog percival, who mended broken autos, would have to put on a new wheel. and to make a noise, so that no one would get run over by his machine, uncle wiggily had a cow's horn fastened on his auto; so instead of going "honk-honk!" like a duck, it went "moo! moo!" like a bossy cow at supper time. "well, if i'm going off for my health, i'd better start," said uncle wiggily, as he went out to his auto after dr. possum had gone. "i'll take a long ride." so he got in the machine, and pushed on the doodle-oodle-um, and twisted the tinkerum-tankerum, and away he went as fast as anything, if not faster. over the fields and through the woods he went, and pretty soon he came to a place where lived a sorrowful crow gentleman. the crow is a black bird, and it pulls up corn and goes "caw! caw! caw!" nobody knows why, though. and this crow was very sorrowful. he was always thinking something unpleasant was going to happen, such as that he was going to drop his ice cream cone in the mud, or that somebody would put whitewash on him. oh, he was very sorrowful, was this crow, and his name was mr. caw-caw. when uncle wiggily got to where the crow was sitting in a tree the black creature cried: "oh, dear! o woe is me! o unhappiness!" "why, what is the matter?" asked uncle wiggily, curious-like! "oh, something is going to happen!" cried the crow. "i know it will rain or snow or freeze, or maybe my feathers will all blow off." "don't be silly!" said uncle wiggily. "you just come for an auto ride with me, and you'll feel better. come along, bless your black tail!" so mr. caw-caw got into the auto, and once more uncle wiggily started off. he had not gone very far before, all of a sudden, there was a bangity-bang noise, and the auto stopped so quickly that uncle wiggily and the crow were almost thrown out of their seats. "there!" cried the black crow. "i knew something would happen!" and he cried "caw! caw! caw!" "it is nothing at all," said the rabbit gentleman as he got out to look. "only the whizzicum-whazzicum has become twisted around the jump-over-the-clothes basket, and we can't go until it's fixed." "can't go?" asked the crow. "can't go--no," said uncle wiggily. and he didn't know what to do. but just then along came old dog percival, who used to work in a circus. "i'll pull you along," he said. "you sit in the auto and steer, and i'll pull you." and he did, by a rope fast to the car. the crow said it was funny to have a circus dog pulling an auto, but uncle wiggily did not mind, and soon they were at a place where the auto could be fixed. so uncle wiggily and the crow waited there, while the machine was being mended. "and we will see what happens to us to-morrow," said uncle wiggily, "for i am going to travel on." and he did. and in case the jumping rope doesn't skip over the clock, and make the hands tickle the face i'll tell you next about uncle wiggily and the school teacher. story ii uncle wiggily and the school teacher uncle wiggily longears, the nice old gentleman rabbit, was riding along in his automobile, with the turnip for a steering wheel, and he had not yet taken more than two bites out of the turnip, for it was only shortly after breakfast. with him was mr. caw-caw, the black crow gentleman. "do you think your automobile will go all right now?" asked the crow, as he looked down from his seat at the big wheels which had german sausages around for tires, so in case old percival, the circus dog, got hungry, he could eat one for lunch. "oh yes, it will go all right now," said the rabbit gentleman. "specially since we have had it fixed." i think, if i am not mistaken, and in case the cat has not eat up all the bacon, that i told you in the story before this one how uncle wiggily had been advised by dr. possum to go traveling around for his health and how he had started off in the auto. did i tell you that? he met mr. caw-caw and the tinkle-inkle-um on the auto broke, or else it was the widdle-waddle-um. anyhow, it wouldn't go, and old dog percival, coming along, pulled the machine to the fixing place. then uncle wiggily and mr. caw-caw slept all night and now it was daylight again and they had started off once more. "it is a lovely morning," said uncle wiggily, as he drove the machine over the fields and through the woods. "a lovely spring day!" "but we may get an april shower before night," said mr. caw-caw, the crow gentleman, who had black feathers and who was always sad instead of being happy. "oh, dear, i'm sure it will rain," he said. "nonsensicalness!" cried uncle wiggily, swinging his ears around just like some circus balloons trying to get away from an elephant eating peanuts. "cheer up! be happy!" "well, if it doesn't rain it will snow," said the sad crow. "oh, cheer up," said uncle wiggily, as he took another bite out of the turnip steering wheel. "have a nibble," he went on politely. "it may only blow." "i'm sure it will do something," spoke the gloomy crow. "anyhow i don't care for turnip." "have some corn then," said uncle wiggily. "is it popped?" asked the crow. "no, but i can pop it," said the old gentleman rabbit. "i will pop it on my automobile engine, which gets very hot, almost like a gas stove." so the old rabbit gentleman, who was riding around in his auto to take exercise, because he was getting too fat, and dr. possum had said so, popped the corn on the hot engine, and very good it was, too, for the crow to eat. but even the popcorn could not seem to make the unhappy crow feel better, and he cried so much, as the auto went along, that his tears made a mud-puddle in the road where they happened to be just then. and the auto wheels, with the german bologna sausages on for tires, splashed in the mud and made it fly all over like anything. then, just as uncle wiggily steered the auto right away from the road into a nice green wood, where the leaves were just coming out on the trees, the old gentleman rabbit heard some one saying: "oh, dear! oh, dear me! i know i'll never be at school on time! oh, what a bad accident!" "my!" cried uncle wiggily. "what can that be?" "oh, something dreadful, you may be sure," said mr. caw-caw, the crow gentleman. "oh, i just knew something would happen on this trip." "well, let it happen!" said uncle wiggily. "i like things to happen. this seems to be some one in trouble, and i am going to help, whoever it is." "then please help me," said the voice. "who are you?" asked uncle wiggily. "i am the lady mouse school teacher," said some one they could not see, "and on my way to school i ran a thorn in my foot, so i cannot walk. if i am not there on time to open the school, the children will not know what to do. oh, isn't it terrible!" "say no more!" cried uncle wiggily, cheerfully. "you shall ride to school in my auto. then you will be there on time, and the animal children will not have to go home and miss their lessons. i am so glad i can help you. isn't it horribly jolly to help people?" cried uncle wiggily to the crow, just as an english rabbit might have done. "ha! it's jolly, all right, if you can help them," said the crow. "but i'm sure something will happen. some bad elephant will eat off our sausage tires, or a cow will drink the gasoline, or we shall roll down a hill." "nonsensicalness!" cried uncle wiggily, real exasperated-like, which means bothered. "get in, miss mouse school teacher," he said, "and i will soon have you at your classes." so the lady mouse school teacher got into the auto, and sat beside mr. caw-caw, who asked her how many six and seven grains of corn were. "thirteen," said the nice mouse school teacher. "thirteen in the winter," spoke the crow, "but i mean in summer." "six and seven are thirteen in summer just as in winter," said the lady mouse. "wrong," croaked the crow. "if you plant thirteen grains of corn in summer you'll get thirteen stalks, each with thirteen ears of corn on, and each ear has five hundred and sixty-three grains, and thirteen times thirteen times five hundred and sixty-three makes--how many does it make?" he asked of uncle wiggily suddenly. "oh, please stop!" cried the lady mouse school teacher; "you make my head ache." "how much is one headache and two headaches?" asked the crow, who seemed quite curious. "stop! stop!" cried uncle wiggily, as he took a bite out of the turnip steering wheel. "you will make the auto turn a somersault." "how much," said the crow, "is one somersault and one peppersault added to a mustard plaster and divided by----" "there you go!" suddenly cried uncle wiggily as the auto hit a stone and stopped. "you've made the plunkity-plunk bite the wizzie-wazzie!" "oh, dear!" cried the crow. "i knew something would happen!" "well, it was your fault," said uncle wiggily. "now i'll have to have the auto fixed again." "can't we go on to school?" asked the lady mouse teacher anxiously. "no, i am sorry to say, we cannot," said uncle wiggily. "then i shall be late, and the children will all run home after all. oh, dear!" "i knew something--" began the crow. "stop it!" cried uncle wiggily, provoked-like. the lady mouse school teacher did not know what to do, and it looked as if she would be late, for even when uncle wiggily had crawled under the auto, and had put pepper on the german sausage tires, he could not make the machine go. but, just as the school teacher was going to be late, along came flying dickie chip-chip, the sparrow boy, with his new airship. and in the airship he gave the lady mouse school teacher a ride to school up above the tree tops, so she was not late after all. she called a good-by to uncle wiggily, who some time afterward had his auto fixed again, and then he and the crow gentleman went on and had more adventures. what the next one was i'll tell you on the next page, when the story will be about uncle wiggily and the candy--that is, if a little montclair girl, named cora, doesn't eat too much peanut brittle, and get her hair so sticky that the brush can't comb it. story iii uncle wiggily and the candy uncle wiggily, the nice old gentleman rabbit, was riding along in his automobile, with the turnip for a steering wheel and big, fat german bologna sausages on for tires. on the seat beside uncle wiggily was the crow gentleman, named mr. caw-caw. "well, where do you think you will go to-day?" asked the crow gentleman, as he straightened out some of his black feathers with his black bill, for the wind had ruffled them all up. "where will i go?" repeated uncle wiggily, as he steered to one side so he would not run over a stone and hurt it, "well, to tell you the truth--i hardly know. dr. possum, when he told me to ride around for my health, because i was getting too fat, did not say where i was to go, in particular." "then let's go straight ahead," said the crow. "i don't like going around in a circle; it makes me dizzy." "and it does me, also," spoke the rabbit gentleman. "that is why i never can ride much on a merry-go-'round, though i often take johnnie or billie bushytail, my squirrel nephews, or buddy and brighteyes, the guinea pig children, on one for a little while. but, mr. crow, we will go straight ahead in my auto, and we will see what adventure happens to us next." for you know something was always happening to uncle wiggily as he traveled around. sometimes it was one thing, and sometimes another. you remember, i dare say, how, the day before, he had nearly helped to keep the nice lady mouse school teacher from being late. well, pretty soon, as uncle wiggily and the crow gentleman were riding in the auto, all at once they looked down the road and saw a little girl sitting on a stone. she had a box in her hands and she was trying to open it. but she was crying so hard that she could not see out of her eyes, because of her tears, and so she could not open the box. "my goodness me sakes alive, and some roast beef gravy!" cried uncle wiggily, as he stopped the auto. "what can be the matter with that child?" for you know uncle wiggily loved children. then the old gentleman rabbit blew on the cow's horn, that was on his auto to warn people kindly to get out of danger, and the cow's horn went "moo! moo! moo!" very softly, three times just like that. the little girl looked up through her tears, and when she saw uncle wiggily and the crow gentleman in the auto, she smiled and asked: "where is the mooley cow?" "only her horn is here," said uncle wiggily, as he made it go "moo!" again. "oh, dear," said the little girl. "i just love a mooley cow," and she was going to cry some more, because there was no cow to be seen, when uncle wiggily asked: "what is the matter? why are you crying?" "because i can't get this box open," said the little girl, whose name was cora. "what is in the box?" asked the rabbit gentleman. "candy," said little cora. "i just love candy, and i haven't had any in ever so long. now my papa gave me a box, but the string is tied on it so tightly that i can't get the box open, and my papa went away and forgot about it. oh, dear. boo! hoo! can you open it for me, uncle wiggily?" the rabbit gentleman thought for a moment. then he said, with a twinkle in his eyes that matched the twinkle in his nose: "well, possibly i might untie the string, but you see my teeth are so big and sharp, and are so used to gnawing wood, and bark and carrots, and i can't see very well, even with my glasses, so i might accidentally, when i bite through the string i might, by mistake, also bite through the box, and eat the candy myself." "oh, dear!" cried the little girl. then she added quickly, as she thought of her polite manners: "i wouldn't mind, uncle wiggily, if you did eat some of the candy. only open the box for me so i can get part of it," she said. "i think i have a better plan than that," said the old gentleman rabbit. "i will ask mr. caw-caw, our crow friend here, to untie the string for you. with his sharp bill this crow gentleman can easily loosen the knot, and that, too, without danger of breaking the box and taking any candy." "will he do it?" asked the little girl eagerly. "to be sure, i will," said the crow gentleman, and he loosened that knot then and there with his sharp bill, which seemed just made for such things. "oh, what lovely candy!" cried the little girl, as she took the cover off the box. "i am going to give you each some!" she added. and she gave mr. caw-caw some candy flavored with green corn, for he liked that best of all, and to uncle wiggily she gave some nice, soft, squishie-squashie candy, with a carrot inside. and the little girl ate some chocolate candy for herself, and did not cry any more. "get in my auto," said uncle wiggily, "and i will give you a ride. perhaps we may have an adventure." "oh, i just love adventures!" said little cora. "i love them even better than candy. but we can eat candy in the auto anyhow," she went on, with a laugh, as she climbed up in the seat. then uncle wiggily turned the tinkerum-tankerum, and with a feather tickled the whizzicum-whazzicum to make the auto go, and it went. the old rabbit gentleman made the cow's horn blow "moo! moo!" and away they started off through the woods. they had not gone very far, and cora had eaten only about six pieces of candy, when they heard a voice behind them shouting: "wait for me! wait for me! i want a ride!" "ha!" cawed the crow, "who can that be?" "i'll look," said uncle wiggily, and he did. then he exclaimed: "oh, dear! it's the circus elephant. and he's grown so big lately, that if he gets in with us he will break my auto." "don't let him do it then," said mr. caw-caw. "i don't believe i will," said uncle wiggily. "but would it be polite not to give him a ride?" asked the little girl, as she ate another piece of candy. "no, you are right, it would not," said uncle wiggily, decidedly. "i must give him a ride, but he's sure to break my auto, and then i can't ride around for my health any more, and stop getting fat. oh, dear, what a predicament!" a predicament means trouble, you know. then the elephant called again: "i say, hold on there! i want a ride!" and he came on as fast as anything. uncle wiggily was going to stop, and let the big creature get in, when the crow gentleman said: "i have it! we'll pretend we don't hear him. we'll keep right on, and not stop, and then it won't be impolite, for he will think we didn't listen to what he said." "that's it," said uncle wiggily. "we'll do that. pachy is the dearest old chap in the world, you know, but he really is too big for this auto." pachy was the elephant's name, you see. so uncle wiggily made the auto go faster, and still the elephant ran after it, calling: "stop! stop! i want a ride!" "he's catching up to us," said the crow, looking back. "oh, dear!" cried uncle wiggily, "what's to be done?" "i know what to do," spoke cora. "i'll drop some pieces of candy in the road for him, and when he stops to eat them we can get so far away he can't catch up to us." "please do," begged uncle wiggily, and the little girl did. and when the elephant saw the pieces of candy, being very fond of sweet things, he stopped to pick them up in his trunk and eat them. and it took him quite a while, for the candy was well scattered about. and when the elephant had eaten the last piece uncle wiggily and the crow, and little girl, were far off in the auto and the elephant could not catch them to break the machine; though even if he had smashed it he would not have meant to do so. so uncle wiggily rode on, looking for more adventures, and he soon found one. i'll tell you about it in the next story, which will be called, "uncle wiggily at the squirrel house;"--that is if the clothes wringer doesn't squeeze the rubber ball so it cries and makes water come in the eyes of the potatoes. story iv uncle wiggily at the squirrel house uncle wiggily, the nice old gentleman rabbit, was standing one day in front of his new automobile which had run away with him upsetting, and breaking one of the wheels. but it had been fixed all right again. "i think this automobile will go fine now," said uncle wiggily to himself, as he got up on the front seat. "now, i am ready to start off on some more travels, and in search of more adventures, and this time i won't have to walk. now let me see, do i turn on the fizzle-fazzle first or the twinkum-twankum? i forget." so he looked carefully all over the automobile to see if he could remember what first to turn to make it go, but he couldn't think what it was. because, you see, he was all excited over his accident. i didn't tell you that story because i thought it might make you cry. it was very sad. the crow gentleman flew away after it. "i guess i'll have to look in the cookbook," said uncle wiggily. "perhaps that will tell me what to do." so he took out a cookbook from under the seat and leafed it over until he came to the page where it tells how to cook automobiles, and there he found what he wanted to know. "ha! i see!" cried uncle wiggily; "first i must twist the dinkum-dankum, and then i must tickle the tittlecum-tattlecum, and then i'll go." well, he did this, and just as he was about to start off on his journey out came running sammie and susie littletail, the two rabbit children, with whom uncle wiggily sometimes lived. "oh, uncle wiggily!" cried susie, "where are you going?" "and may we come along?" asked sammie, making his nose twinkle like two stars on a night in june. "i am going off on a long journey, for my health, and to look for more adventures," said the old gentleman rabbit. "i am tired of staying around the house taking medicine for my rheumatism. so dr. possum told me to travel around. i don't just know where i am going, but i am going somewhere, and if you like you may come part of the way. hop in." sammie and susie hopped in the back part of the auto, where there were two little seats for them, and then uncle wiggily turned the whizzicum-whazzicum around backward and away they went as nicely as the baby creeps over the floor to catch the kittie by the tail; only you mustn't do that, you know; indeed not! "oh, isn't this great?" cried susie, in delight. "it certainly is," agreed sammie, blinking his pink eyes because the wind blew in them. "i hope uncle wiggily has an adventure while we're with him." and then, all of a sudden, a doggie ran across the road in front of the auto, and the doggie's tail was hanging down behind him and sticking out quite a bit, and, as it was quite a long tail, uncle wiggily nearly ran over it, but, of course, he didn't mean to, even if he had done it. "look out of the way, little doggie!" cried the old gentleman rabbit, kindly. "i am looking as fast as i can!" cried the doggie, and he ran to the sidewalk as quickly as he could, and then he turned around to see if his tail was still fastened to him. "that came near being an adventure," said susie, waving her pocket handkerchief. "yes, almost too near," said uncle wiggily. "i think i will go through the woods instead of along the streets, and then i won't be in any danger of running over any one." so he steered the auto toward the woodland road, and sammie cried: "oh, i know what let's do! let's go call on johnnie and billie bushytail, the squirrel boys. then we'll have some fun." "all right, we'll do it," agreed uncle wiggily, for he liked fun as much as the children did, if not more. well, as they were going along the road, all of a sudden they heard a little voice calling to them. "oh, please don't run over me!" the voice cried. "please be careful!" and, looking down, sammie saw a little black cricket on the path just ahead of the auto, which uncle wiggily was now making go very slowly. "why don't you get out of the way if you don't want to be run over?" asked susie, politely, for the cricket just stood still there, looking at them, and not making a move. "oh, i'm so stiff from the cold that i can't hop about any more," said the cricket, "or else i would hop out of the way. you know i can't stand cold weather." [illustration] "that's too bad," said uncle wiggily as he stopped the auto. "i'll give you a ride, and perhaps i can find some warm place for you to spend the winter." so the old gentleman rabbit kindly picked up the cold and stiff cricket and gave it to susie, and susie gently put it in the warm pocket of her jacket, and there it was so nice and cozy-ozy that the cricket went fast to sleep. and then, in about forty-'leven squeak-squawk toots of the big mooley-cow automobile horn, there they were at the home of johnnie and billy bushytail, the squirrel brothers. "toot! toot!" tooted uncle wiggily on his tooter-tooter mooley-cow horn. "there! i guess that will bring out the boys if they are in the house," said the old gentleman rabbit. and then, all of a sudden, something happened. susie and sammie were looking at the front door, expecting johnnie and billie to come out, when susie saw a great big bear's face up at one window of the squirrel house. "oh! look! look!" she cried. "the bear has gotten in and maybe he has bitten johnnie." and just then sammie looked at the other window and he saw a wolf's face peering out. "oh, dear!" cried sammie, "the wolf has gotten billie." "my gracious!" exclaimed uncle wiggily. "i'm going for the police right away. hold on tightly, children, for i am going to twist the tinkerum-tankerum and make this automobile go very fast. oh! how sorry i am for poor johnnie and billie." but just before uncle wiggily could start the auto, there was a shout of laughter. the front door of the bushytail home swung open, and out rushed billie and johnnie, jumping and skipping. and johnnie had a wolf's false face in his paws and billie had a bear's false face in his paws. "ho! ho!" they shouted together. "did we scare you, uncle wiggily? we didn't mean to, but we were just practising." "was that you boys looking out of the windows with your false faces on?" asked uncle wiggily very much surprised-like. "that was us," said johnnie. "and wasn't there a real bear?" asked susie, flapping her ears. "and wasn't it a real wolf?" asked sammie, wiggling his paws. "not a bit," said billie. "we're just getting ready for hallowe'en to-morrow night, and those were our false faces, you know, and i wish you'd all stay with us and have some fun." "we will," said uncle wiggily. "i'll put my auto in the barn, and we'll stay." so they did, and in case the little wooden dog with the pink-blue nose doesn't bite the tail of the woolly cat, i'll tell you next about uncle wiggily having hallowe'en fun. story v uncle wiggily's hallowe'en fun "oh, dear, i wish it were night," said susie littletail. "so do i!" exclaimed sammie, her brother. "then it would be hallowe'en." "and both of us wish the same thing," said johnnie bushytail, as he and his brother billie went skipping about the room of their house. "oh, don't wish so hard or night might come before i'm ready for it," said uncle wiggily longears, the old gentleman rabbit. "i've got to decorate my auto yet and get my false face, you know." "what kind are you going to have?" asked susie. "oh, i think i'll dress up like an elephant," said uncle wiggily. "but what will you do for a trunk?" asked mrs. bushytail, for, you see, uncle wiggily and sammie and susie had stayed at the squirrel's house to have some fun. this was the first place the old gentleman rabbit came to after starting out in his auto for his health, and after some fresh adventures. "what will you do for an elephant's trunk?" asked mrs. bushytail. "i will take a long stocking and stuff it full of soft cotton so it will look just like an elephant's face," said uncle wiggily. "then i'll go out with the children in my auto and we'll have a lot of fun." so all that day they got ready for the hallowe'en fun they were to have that night. johnnie and billie had their false faces, you remember; johnnie had a wolf's face and billie a bear's, and they were too cute for anything. but, of course, sammie and susie littletail and uncle wiggily had to have some false faces also, and it took quite a while for the rabbit children to decide what they wanted. "i think i'll dress up like a wild indian," said sammie at last. "and i'm going to be a pussy cat," said susie. "and if any dogs chase you, i'll growl at them, and scare them away," said billie, who was going to be a make-believe bear. "yes, and i'll tickle them with my stuffed-stocking elephant's trunk," said uncle wiggily. "now, i must go out and put some oil and gasoline in my auto, and see that the frizzle-frazzle works all right, so we can go hallowe'en riding to-night." finally the animal children were all ready, and they were waiting for it to get dark so they could go out. and, pretty soon, after supper, when the sun had gone to bed, it did get dark. then the four animal children and uncle wiggily went out in the auto. say, i just wish you could have seen them; really i do! and i'd show you a picture of them, only i'm not allowed to do that. and besides it was too dark to see pictures well, so perhaps it doesn't much matter. oh, but they were the funny looking sights, though! billy bushytail acted like a real bear, growling as hard as ever he could, though, of course, he was polite about it, as it was only fun. and what a savage make-believe wolf johnnie was! and there was susie, as cute a little pussy cat as one would meet with in going from here to the moon and back. and as for sammie, well, say, he was so much like a real indian that when he looked in the glass he was frightened at himself; yes, really he was, and he had truly feathers on, too; not make-believe ones, either. uncle wiggily was dressed up like an elephant, and he sat in the front of the auto to steer it. only his stuffed-stocking trunk got in the way of the steering wheel, so uncle wiggily had to put it behind him, over his left shoulder and have susie hold it. i mean she held his stuffed-stocking trunk, not the steering wheel, you know. "here we go!" suddenly cried uncle wiggily, and his voice sounded far away because it had to go down inside the stuffed-stocking elephant trunk and come out again around in back of him. then he twisted the tinkerum-tankerum, and away they went in the automobile. all at once, from around a corner, came a big clown with red, white and blue all over his face. he had a rattlety-bang-banger thing and he was making a terrible racket on it. "oh, i know who that is!" cried susie. "you're jimmie wibblewobble, the boy duck." "that's right," said the clown, making more noise than ever. "whoop-de-doodle-do! isn't this fun!" along went the auto and by this time there were a whole lot of animal children prancing and dancing around it. uncle wiggily had to make the auto go real slowly so as not to hurt any of them, for they were all over the streets. there was buddy pigg, dressed up like a camel, and there was dickie chip-chip and his sister, and they were dressed up like sailors. brighteyes pigg had on a cow's false face and billie goat was dressed up like a chinaman, while nannie, his sister, was supposed to be a lady with a sealskin coat on. oh, i couldn't tell you how all the different animal children were dressed, but i'll just say that bully, the frog, with his tall hat, was dressed like a football player and aunt lettie, the nice old lady goat, made believe she was a fireman, and munchie trot was a pretend-policeman. and such fun as they had! uncle wiggily steered the auto here and there, and squeaked and squawked his tooter-teeter so no one would get hurt. there were about forty-'leven tin horns being blown, and the wooden rattlety-bang-bangs were rattling all over and some one threw a whole lot of prettily colored paper in the air until it looked as if it were raining red, pink, green, purple, blue, yellow and skilligimink colored snow. and then, all at once, out from the crowd, came a figure that looked like a bear. oh, it was very real looking with long teeth, and shaggy fur, and that bear came right up to the auto that uncle wiggily was steering. "i've come to get you!" growled the bear, away down in his throat. "oh, he's almost real!" exclaimed susie, and she forgot that she was holding uncle wiggily's stuffed-stocking trunk, and let go of it, so that it hung down in front of him. "i am a real bear!" growled the shaggy creature. "oh, you can't fool us," said johnnie bushytail, with a laugh. "you're jacko or jumpo kinkytail dressed up like a bear, just as my brother billie is. you can't fool us." "but i am a real bear!" growled the shaggy creature again, "and i'm hungry so i'm going to bite uncle wiggily." and, would you ever believe it? he was a real bear who had come in from the woods. he made a grab for uncle wiggily, but the old gentleman rabbit leaned far back in his auto seat, and the bear only got hold of the stuffed-stocking trunk. and then the bear pulled on that so hard that it came all apart and the cotton stuffing came out, and got up the bear's nose and made him sneeze. and then up came running munchie trot, the pony boy, who was dressed like a policeman, and with his club munchie tickled the bear on his ear, and that shaggy creature was glad enough to run back to the woods, taking his little stubby tail with him, so he didn't eat anybody. "my, it's a good thing, i didn't have on a real elephant's trunk," said uncle wiggily, "or that bear would have bitten it off, for real trunks are fastened on tight." "yes, indeed," said susie. so after everybody got over being scared at the real bear they had a lot of fun and uncle wiggily took all the children to a store and treated them to hot chocolate, and then he and sammie and susie and billie and johnnie went home in the auto, and went to bed. and uncle wiggily had another adventure next day. i'll tell you about it on the page after this, when, in case it doesn't rain lightning bugs down the chimney, the story will be about uncle wiggily going chestnutting. story vi uncle wiggily goes chestnutting "where are you going this morning, uncle wiggily?" asked johnnie bushytail of the old gentleman rabbit the day after the hallowe'en fun. "oh, i am going to take a ride and see if i can find any more adventures," said uncle wiggily, as he went out in the barn to look and see if his auto had any holes in the rubber tires, or if the what-you-may-call-it had gotten twisted around the whose-this-cantankerum. "may i go with you?" asked billie bushytail, as he followed uncle wiggily. "we don't want you to go away from our house so soon. we'd like to have you pay us a nice, long visit." "hum, well, i'll think about it," said uncle wiggily, slowly, and careful-like. "i'll stay as long as i can. but as for you squirrel boys going for a ride in my auto, why i guess you may come if your mamma will let you. yes, it's all ready for a spin," he went on, as he saw that the tiddle-taddleum was on straight, and that the wheels had no holes in them. "oh, goody! come on!" cried billie to johnnie; so into the house they hurried to ask their mamma, and she said they might go. a little later, with the squirrel boys sitting in the back part of the auto, away they went, uncle wiggily steering here and there and taking care not to run over any puppy-dogs' tails or over any alligators' noses. "are you going off in the woods?" asked johnnie, as he saw the old gentleman rabbit steering toward the tree-forest. "i think i will," answered uncle wiggily. "i want to see grandfather goosey gander, and if we go through the woods that is the shortest way to his house." "then, perhaps, we can stop and gather some chestnuts," said johnnie. "there may be a few left that the other squirrels haven't yet picked up, and i heard papa saying to mamma the other night that we need a whole lot more than we have, so we wouldn't be hungry this winter." "oh, yes; let's get chestnuts!" cried billie. "all right," answered uncle wiggily, smiling, and then he had to turn the auto to one side very quickly, for a fuzzy worm was hurrying along the path, on her way to the grocery store, and uncle wiggily didn't want to run over her, you know. "thank you very much for not squashing me flat like a pancake," said the worm, as she wiggled along. "oh, pray do not mention such a little thing," said uncle wiggily, politely. "i am always glad to do you a favor like that." then he turned the handle so some more gasoline would squirt into the fizzle-fozzleum, and away the automobile went faster than ever. pretty soon they came to the woods, and johnnie and billie began looking about for chestnut trees. squirrels, you know, can tell a chestnut tree a great way off, and soon johnnie saw one. "stop the auto here, uncle wiggily," said johnnie, "and we'll see if there are any chestnuts left." so the old gentleman rabbit did this, and, surely enough, there were quite a few of the brown nuts lying on the ground, partly covered with leaves. "take a stick and poke around and you'll find more," said billie to his brother, and pretty soon all three of them, including uncle wiggily, were picking up the nuts. of course, the automobile couldn't pick up any; it just had to stand still there, looking on. i guess you know that, anyhow, but i just thought i'd mention it to make sure. "oh, here is another tree over there!" cried johnnie after a while, as he ran to a large one. "it's got heaps and heaps of chestnuts under it, too. i guess no squirrels or any chipmunks have been here. oh, we can get lots of nuts to put away for winter!" so the two squirrel boys filled their pockets with nuts, and so did uncle wiggily, and they even put some in the automobile, though, of course, the auto couldn't eat them, but it could carry them away. and then, all of a sudden, billie cried: "oh, i know what let's do! let's build a little fire and roast some of the chestnuts. they're fine roasted." "i guess they are," said uncle wiggily, "and so we'll cook some, though, as for me, i'd rather have a roast carrot or a bit of baked apple." "maybe we can find some apples to bake while we're roasting the chestnuts," said billie. "we'll look." they looked all around, and in a field not far from the woods they found an apple tree and there were some apples on the ground under it. they picked up quite a few and then they got some flat stones and made a place to build a fire. uncle wiggily lighted it, for it isn't good for children to have anything to do with matches, and soon the fire was blazing up very nicely and was quite hot. "now put the chestnuts down to roast on the hot stones," said the rabbit gentleman, after a bit, to the two squirrel boys, "and i'll put some apples on a sharp stick and hold them near the blaze to roast. why, boys! this is as much fun for me as a picnic!" he exclaimed joyfully. but listen! something is going to happen. all of a sudden, as they were sitting quietly around the fire and wishing the apples and chestnuts would hurry up and roast, all of a sudden a man came along with a gun. he stood by the fence that went around the field where they had picked up the apples, and that man said, in a grillery-growlery voice: "ah, ha! so those squirrels and that rabbit have been taking my apples, eh? i can smell 'em! sniff! snoof! snuff! well, i'll soon put a stop to that! i'm glad i brought my gun along!" he was just aiming his gun at poor uncle wiggily and also at johnnie and billie bushytail, and the rabbit and the squirrels didn't know what in the world to do, for they were too frightened to run, when, all of a sudden there was a tremendously loud bang-bang in the fire and something flew out of it and hit that man right on the end of his nose. "ouch-ouchy!" the man cried. "bang!" went something again, and this time it flew over and hit the man on his left ear. now what do you think of that? "ouch! ouchy!" the man yelled again. "bang!" went the noise for the third shot, and this time the man was hit on his other ear. "ouch! ouchy!" he cried again. "they're shooting at me. i'd better run." and run away he did, taking his gun with him, and so uncle wiggily and johnnie and billie weren't hurt. "my, that was a narrow escape," said johnnie. "what was it that made the bang noise, and hit the man?" "it was the roast chestnuts," said uncle wiggily, "i forgot to tell you to make little holes in them before you roasted them or else they would burst. and burst they did, and i'm glad of it, for they scared that man. but i guess we had better be going now, for he may come back." so they took the apples, which were nicely roasted now, and they took the chestnuts that were left and which hadn't burst, and away they went in the auto and had a fine ride, before going home to bed. and now i'll say good-night, but in case the cow who jumped over the moon doesn't kick our milk bottles off the back stoop, i'll tell you, in the story after this one, about uncle wiggily and the pumpkin. story vii uncle wiggily and the pumpkin "well," said uncle wiggily longears one fine fresh morning, just after the milkman had been around to leave some cream for the coffee, "i think i will be traveling on again, mrs. bushytail." "oh, don't go yet!" begged billie, the boy squirrel. "no, you haven't made us a long visit at all," spoke his brother johnnie. "can't you stay a long, long time?" "well, i promised jimmie wibblewobble, the boy duck, that i would come in my new automobile and pay him and his sisters a visit," said the old gentleman, as he wiggled first his left ear and then the right one to see if there were any pennies stuck in them. and he found two pennies, one for johnnie and one for billie. "oh, please stay with us a few more days. you can go visit the wibblewobble family next week," said johnnie; "can't he, mother?" "yes, i really think you might stay with us a little longer," said mrs. bushytail, as she was mending some holes in johnnie's stocking. "besides, i thought you might do me a favor to-day, uncle wiggily." "a favor!" exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, making a low bow. "i am always anxious to do you a favor if i can. what is it, mrs. bushytail?" "why, i thought you and the boys might like to go off in the automobile and see if you could find me a nice, large yellow pumpkin," said the squirrel lady. "oh, goody!" cried billie. "i know what for--to make a jack-o'-lantern for us, eh, mamma?" "sure!" cried johnnie, jumping up and down because he was so happy, "and we'll take it out after dark, billie, and have some fun with bully the frog." "oh, no, not a pumpkin for a jack-o'-lantern," said mrs. bushytail. "what i need a pumpkin for is to make some pies, and i thought you might like to get one, uncle wiggily." "yes, indeed, i would!" exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit. "i am very fond of hunting pumpkins for pies, and also eating them after they are baked. i like pumpkin pie almost as much as i do cherry pie. come on, boys, let's get into the auto and we'll go look for a pumpkin." "but don't go near that man's field who was going to shoot us the other day because we took a few apples," said billie, and uncle wiggily said he wouldn't. so out they went to the barn, where the auto was kept, leaving mrs. bushytail in the house mending stockings and getting ready to bake the pumpkin pies. "here we go!" cried uncle wiggily, when he had tickled the tinkerum-tankerum with a feather to make it sneeze. away went the auto, and as it rolled along on its big fat wheels uncle wiggily sang a funny little song, like this: "pumpkin pie is my delight, i eat it morning, noon and night, it's very good to make you grow, that's why the boys all love it so. "if i could have my dearest wish, i'd have some cherries in a dish. and then a pumpkin pie, or two; of course, i'd save a piece for you. "perhaps, if we are good and kind, a dozen pumpkins we may find, we'll bring them home and stew them up, and then on pumpkin pie we'll sup." well, after he had sung that song, uncle wiggily felt better. the auto felt better also, i guess, for it ran along very fast, and, all of a sudden, they came to a place where there was a field of pumpkins. oh, such lovely, large, golden yellow pumpkins as they were. "hurray!" cried johnnie. "whoop-de-doodle-do!" cried billie. "dear me hum suz dud!" cried uncle wiggily. "it couldn't be better. but i wonder if these pumpkins would mind if we took one?" "not in the least! not in the least!" suddenly cried a voice near the fence, and looking over, uncle wiggily and the boys saw grandfather goosey gander, the old gentleman duck, standing there on one leg. "this is my field of pumpkins," said grandfather goosey, "and you may take as many as you like." then he put down his other leg, which he had been holding up under his feathers. "thank you very much," spoke uncle wiggily politely. "and may we each have a pumpkin to make a jack-o'-lantern?" asked billie. "to be sure," answered grandfather goosey, so uncle wiggily took a very large pumpkin for a pie, and the boy squirrels took smaller ones for their lanterns. then uncle wiggily took a few more to be sure he would have plenty, but none was as large as the first one. "i will send you some pumpkin pies when mrs. bushytail bakes them," promised the old gentleman rabbit as he got ready to travel on with the boys in the auto. "i wish you would," said grandfather goosey, "as i am very fond of pumpkin pie with watercress salad on top." on and on went the auto, and billie and johnnie were talking about how they would make their jack-o'-lanterns and have fun, when all of a sudden, out from the bushes at the side of the road, jumped the big, bad savage wolf. "hold on there!" he cried to uncle wiggily. "stop, i want to see you!" "you want to bite me, i guess," said the old gentleman rabbit. "no, sir! i'm not going to stop." "then i'll just make you!" growled the wolf, and with that what did he do but bite a hole in one of the big rubber tires, letting out all the wind with a puff, so the auto couldn't go any more. "now see what you've done!" cried johnnie. "yes, and it was a nice, new auto, too," said billie sorrowfully. "fiddlesticks!" cried the wolf. "double fiddlesticks. don't talk to me. i'm hungry. get out of that auto, now, so i can bite you." "oh! what shall we do?" whispered johnnie. "hush! don't say a word. i'm going to play a trick on that wolf," said uncle wiggily. then he spoke to the savage creature, saying: "if you are going to eat us up, i s'pose you will; but first would you mind taking one of these pumpkins down to the bottom of the hill and leaving it there for mrs. bushtail to make a pie of?" "oh, anything to oblige you, since i am going to eat you, anyhow," said the wolf. "give me the pumpkin, but mind, don't try to run away, while i'm gone for i can catch you. i'll come back and eat you up in a minute." "all right," said uncle wiggily, giving the wolf a little pumpkin, and pretending to cry, to show that he was afraid. but he was only making believe, you see. well, the wolf began to run down to the foot of the hill. "now, quick, boys!" suddenly cried uncle wiggily. "we'll roll the biggest pumpkin down after him, and it will hit him and make him as flat as a pancake, and then he can't eat us! lively, now!" so, surely enough, they took the big pumpkin out of the auto and rolled it down after the wolf. he heard it coming and he tried to get out of the way, but he couldn't, because he was carrying another pumpkin, and he stumbled and fell down, and the big pumpkin rolled right over him, including his tail, and he was as flat as two pancakes, and part of another one, and he couldn't even eat a toothpick. then, uncle wiggily and the boys fixed the hole in the tire, pumped it full of wind, and hurried on, and they had plenty of pumpkin left for pies, and they were soon at the squirrel's house, safe and sound, so that's the end of the story. but on the next page, if the milk bottle doesn't roll down off the stoop and tickle the doormat, i'll tell you about uncle wiggily and the pumpkin pie. story viii uncle wiggily's jack-o'-lantern "i really think i must be traveling on to-day," said uncle wiggily, the nice old gentleman rabbit, one bright morning when he had gone out to the bushtail barn to see if there were any slivers sticking in the rubber tires of his automobile. "i have been here quite a while now, boys, and i want to pay a visit to some of my other friends," he added. "oh, please don't think of going!" begged johnnie bushtail, the boy squirrel. "please, can't you stay a little longer?" asked billie, his brother. "johnnie and i are going to make jack-o'-lanterns to-night from the pumpkin you got us, and you may help if you like." "oh, that will be fine," said uncle wiggily. "i suppose i really must stay another night. but after that i shall have to be traveling along, for i have many more friends to visit, and only to-day i had a letter from jimmie wibblewobble, the duck boy, asking when i was coming to see him." "well, never mind about that. let's get to work at making jack-o'-lanterns now and not wait for to-night," suggested johnnie. "we'll make three lanterns, one for uncle wiggily and one for each of us." so they sat down on benches out in the back yard, where the pumpkin seeds wouldn't do any harm, and they began to make the lanterns. and this is how you do it. first you cut a little round hole in the top of the pumpkin--the part where the stem is, you know. and then you scoop out the soft inside where all the seeds are, and you can save the seeds to make more pumpkins grow next year, if you like. then, after you have the inside all scraped out clean, so that the shell is quite thin, you cut out holes for the two eyes and a nose and a mouth, and if you know how to do it you can cut make-believe teeth in the jack-o'-lantern's mouth. if you can't do it yourselves, perhaps some of the big folks will help you. [illustration] so that's how the squirrel boys and uncle wiggily made their jack-o'-lanterns, and when they were all finished they put a lighted candle inside and say! my goodness! it looked just like a real person grinning at you, only, of course, it wasn't. "won't we have fun to-night!" exclaimed johnnie as he finished his lantern. "we certainly will!" said billie, dancing a little jig. "what are you going to do with your lantern, uncle wiggily?" asked johnnie. "oh, i don't know," answered the old gentleman rabbit. "i may take it with me on my travels." well, after the three lanterns were made, there was still plenty of time before it would be dark, so uncle wiggily and the boys made some more lanterns. and along came lulu and alice and jimmie wibblewobble, the duck children, and as they had no jack-o'-lanterns of their own, johnnie gave lulu one and billie gave alice one, and uncle wiggily gave jimmie one, and my! you should have seen how pleased those duck children were! it was worth going across the street just to look at their smiling faces. well, pretty soon, after a while, not so very long, it was supper time, and there was pumpkin pie and carrot sandwiches and lettuce salad, and things like that for uncle wiggily, and nut cake and nut candy and nut sandwiches for the squirrels. uncle wiggily was folding up his napkin, and he was just getting out of his chair to go in the parlor, and read the paper with mr. bushytail, when, all of a sudden, there came a knock on the front door. "my goodness! i wonder who that can be?" exclaimed mrs. bushytail. "i'll go see," spoke her husband, and when he went to the door there was kind old mrs. hop toad on the mat, wiping her feet. "oh, is uncle wiggily longears here?" asked mrs. toad. "if he is, tell him to come back to the rabbit house at once, for sammie littletail is very sick, and they can't get him to sleep, and the nurse thinks if he heard one of uncle wiggily's stories he would shut his eyes and rest." "i'll come right away," said uncle wiggily, for he had gone to the front door, also, and had heard what mrs. hop toad had said. "wait until i get on my hat and coat and i'll crank up my automobile and go see sammie," said the rabbit gentleman. "i won't wait," said mrs. toad. "i'll hop on ahead, and tell them you're coming. anyhow it gives me the toodle-oodles to ride in an auto." so she hopped on ahead, and uncle wiggily was soon ready to start off in his car. just as he was going, billie bushytail cried out: "oh, uncle wiggily, take a jack-o'-lantern with you and maybe sammie will like that." so the old gentleman rabbit took one of the pumpkin lanterns up on the seat with him, and away he went. and then, all at once, as he was going through a dark place in the woods in his auto, the wind suddenly blew out all his lanterns--all the oil lamps on the auto i mean, and right away after that a policeman dog cried out: "hey, there, mr. longears, you can't go on in your auto without a light, you know. it's against the law." "i know it is," said uncle wiggily. "i'll light the lamps at once." but when he tried to do it he found there was no more oil in them. "oh, what shall i do?" he cried. "i'm in a hurry to get to sammie littletail, who is sick, but i can't go in the dark. ah! i have it. the jack-o'-lantern! i'll light the candle in that, and keep on going. will that be all right, mr. policeman?" "sure it will," said the policeman dog, swinging his club, and wishing he was home in bed. so uncle wiggily lighted the jack-o'-lantern and it was real bright, and soon the old gentleman rabbit was speeding on again. and, all of a sudden out from the bushes jumped a burglar fox. "hold on there!" he cried to uncle wiggily. "i want all your money." and just then he saw the big pumpkin jack-o'-lantern, with its staring eyes and big mouth and sharp teeth, looking at him from the seat of the auto, and the fox was so scared, thinking it was a giant going to catch him, that he ran off in the woods howling, and he didn't bother uncle wiggily a bit more that night. then the old gentleman rabbit drove his auto on toward sammie's house, and he was soon there and he told sammie a funny story and gave him the jack-o'-lantern, and the little rabbit boy was soon asleep, and in the morning he was all better. so that's what the jack-o'-lantern did for uncle wiggily and sammie, and now if you please you must go to bed, and on the page after this, in case the basket of peaches doesn't fall down the cellar stairs and break the furnace door all to pieces, i'll tell you about uncle wiggily and the lazy duck. story ix uncle wiggily and the lazy duck the day after uncle wiggily had scared the bad burglar fox with the jack-o'-lantern, the old rabbit gentleman and lulu and alice and jimmie wibblewobble, the ducks, went for a little ride in the automobile. for it was saturday, you see, and there was no school. so they went along quite a distance over the hills and through the woods and fields, for uncle wiggily's auto was a sort of fairy machine and could go almost anywhere. pretty soon they came to a little house beside the road, and in the front yard was a nice pump, where you could get a drink of water. "i am very thirsty," said uncle wiggily to jimmie. "i wonder if we could get a drink here?" "oh, yes," said lulu, as she looked to see if her hair ribbon was on straight; "a duck family lives here, and they will give you all the water you want." right after that, before uncle wiggily could get out of the auto to pump some water, there came waddling out of the duckhouse a duck boy, about as big as jimmie. "how do you do?" said uncle wiggily, politely to this duck boy. "may we get a drink of water here?" "oh--um--er--oo--i--guess--so," said the duck boy slowly, and he stretched out his wings and stretched out his legs and then he sat down on a bench in the front yard and nearly went to sleep. "why, i wonder what is the matter with him?" asked uncle wiggily. "why does he act so strangely, and speak so slow?" "i can tell you!" exclaimed lulu, and she got down out of the auto and picked up a stone. "that duck boy is lazy, that's what's the matter with him. he never even wants to play. why, at school he hardly ever knows his lessons." "oh, you surprise me!" said the old gentleman rabbit. "a lazy duck boy! i never heard of such a thing. pray what is his name?" "it's fizzy-whizzy," said jimmie, who also knew the boy. "why, what a strange name!" exclaimed the rabbit gentleman. "why do they call him that?" "because he is so fond of fizzy-izzy soda water," said alice. "oh, let's go along, uncle wiggily." "no," said the rabbit gentleman, slowly, "if this is a lazy duck boy he should be cured. laziness is worse than the measles or whooping cough, i think. and as i am very thirsty i want a drink. then i will think of some plan to cure this boy duck of being lazy." so uncle wiggily went close up to the boy duck and called out loud, right in his ear, so as to waken him: "will you please get me a cup so i may get a drink of water?" "hey? what's--that--you--said?" asked the lazy boy duck, slowly, stretching out his wings. uncle wiggily told him over again, but that lazy chap just stretched his legs this time and said: "oh--i--am--too--tired--to--get--you--a--cup. you--had--better--go--in--the--house--and--get--it--for--yourself," and then he was going to sleep again. but, all of a sudden, his mother, who worked very hard at washing and ironing, came to the door and said: "oh, dear! if fizzy-wizzy hasn't gone to sleep again. wake up at once, fizzy, and get me some wood for the fire! quick." "oh--ma--i am--too--tired," said fizzy-wizzy. "i--will--do--it--to-morrow--um--ah--er--boo--soo!" and he was asleep once more. "oh, i never saw such a lazy boy in all my life!" exclaimed the duck boy's mother, and she was very much ashamed of him. "i don't know what to do." "do you want me to make him better?" asked uncle wiggily. "indeed i do, but i am afraid you can't," she said. "yes i can," said uncle wiggily. "i'll come back here this evening and i'll cure him. first let me get a drink of water and then i'll think of a way to do it." so the duck lady herself brought out a cup so uncle wiggily and lulu and alice and jimmie could get a drink from the pump, and all the while the lazy chap slept on. "how are you going to cure him, uncle wiggily?" asked jimmie when they were riding along in the auto once more. "i will show you," said the old gentleman rabbit. "and you children must help me, for to be lazy is a dreadful thing." well, that night, after dark, uncle wiggily took a lantern, and some matches and some rubber balls and some beans and something else done up in a package, and he put all these things in his auto. then he and the wibblewobble children got in and they went to the house of the lazy boy duck. "is he in?" asked uncle wiggily of the boy's mamma. "yes," she said in a whisper. "well, when i throw a pebble against the kitchen window tell him to come out and see who's here," went on the rabbit gentleman. then he opened the package and in it were four false faces, one of a fox, one of a wolf, one of a bear and one was of an alligator. and uncle wiggily put on the alligator false face, gave the bear one to jimmie, the fox one to alice and the wolf one to lulu. then he gave jimmie a handful of beans and he gave alice a rubber ball filled with water to squirt and lulu the same. they knew what to do with them. then uncle wiggily built a fire and made some stones quite warm, not warm enough to burn one, but just warm enough. these stones he put in front of the lazy duck boy's house and then he threw a pebble against the window. "go and see who is there," said the duck boy's mamma to him. "i--don't--want--to," the lazy chap was just saying, but he suddenly became very curious and thought he would just take a peep out. and no sooner had he opened the door and stepped on the warm stones than he began to run down the yard, for he was afraid if he stood still he would be burned. and then, as he ran, up popped uncle wiggily from behind the bushes, looking like an alligator with the false face on. "oh! oh!" cried the lazy boy and he ran faster than ever. then up jumped jimmie, looking like a bear with the false face on, and up popped lulu looking like a wolf and alice looking like a fox. "oh! oh!" cried the lazy boy, and he ran faster than ever before in his life. then alice and lulu squirted water at him from their rubber balls. "oh! it's raining! it's raining!" cried the boy duck, and he ran faster than before. then jimmie threw the beans at him and they rattled all over. "oh! it's snowing and hailing!" cried the lazy boy, and he ran faster than ever. and then uncle wiggily threw some hickory nuts at him, and that lazy duck ran still faster than he had ever run in his life before and ran back in the house. "oh, mother!" he cried, "i've had a terrible time," and he spoke very fast. "i'll never be lazy again." "i'm glad of it," she said. "i guess uncle wiggily cured you." and so the old gentleman rabbit had, for the duck boy was always ready to work after that. then lulu and alice and jimmie went home in the auto and went to bed, and that's where you must go soon. and if the pussy cat doesn't slip in the molasses, and fall down the cellar steps, i'll tell you next about uncle wiggily helping jimmie. story x uncle wiggily helps jimmie old percival, who used to be a circus dog, wasn't feeling very well. some bad boys had tied a tin can to his tail, and had thrown stones at him and done other mean things. but uncle wiggily had come along and driven the boys away, and percival had come home in the automobile of the old gentleman rabbit, and was given a nice warm place behind the kitchen stove, where he could lie down. "but i don't feel a bit good," percival said to uncle wiggily. "i don't know whether it was the tin can the boys tied to my tail, or the leaves they stuck on me, or the bone they put in my mouth or the molasses they used, but i don't feel at all well." "perhaps it is the epizootic," said alice wibblewobble, the duck girl, as she untied her green hair ribbon and put on a pink one. "that may be it," said percival, and he blinked his two eyes slow and careful-like, so as not to get any dust in them. "perhaps if i made you some dog-biscuit-soup it would make you feel better," said mrs. wibblewobble. "i'll cook some right away." so she did that and percival ate it, but still that night he didn't feel much better, and the only trick he could do for the children was to stand up on his tail, and make believe he was a soldier. but he couldn't do that very long, and then he had to crawl back to his bed behind the stove. "poor percival is getting old," said mr. wibblewobble. "he isn't the lively dog he used to be when he showed peetie and jackie bow wow how to do tricks in a circus parade." "no, indeed," said uncle wiggily, and then the old gentleman rabbit played blind man's bluff with lulu and alice and jimmie wibblewobble until it was time to go to bed. well, the next day poor old percival wasn't any better and when the duck children started for school their mamma told them to stop on their way home and tell dr. possum to come and give percival some medicine. "we will," said jimmie, and just then they saw uncle wiggily putting some gasoline in his automobile. "oh, dear! you're not going away, are you, uncle wiggily?" asked lulu wibblewobble as she picked up a stone and threw it even better than the lazy boy duck could have done. "no," said the old gentleman rabbit, "i am just going for a little ride to see grandfather goosey gander, but i will be back here when you come from school. don't forget about telling dr. possum to come and see percival." so they said they wouldn't forget, and then the three duck children hurried on to school so they wouldn't be late, and uncle wiggily tickled the flinkum-flankum of his auto and away he went whizzing over the fields and through the woods. well, as it happened that day, dr. possum wasn't home, so all that jimmie and his sisters could do was to leave word for him to come and see percival as soon as the doctor got back. "i'll send him right away, just as soon as he comes in," said dr. possum's wife. "oh, i am so sorry for poor percival." well, when lulu and alice and jimmie got home from school dr. possum hadn't yet come to the duck house to see the sick dog, who was much worse. and uncle wiggily hadn't come back from his automobile ride, either. "oh, dear!" exclaimed mrs. wibblewobble. "i don't know what to do! the doctor ought to come, and uncle wiggily ought to be here. perhaps uncle wiggily has met with an accident and dr. possum had to attend to him first." "oh, i hope not, mamma," said alice. "i know what i can do," said jimmie, the boy duck. "i can hurry back to dr. possum's house to see if he has come back yet. if he has i'll tell him to please hurry here." "i think that would be a good idea," spoke mrs. wibblewobble. "go quickly, jimmie, and here is a molasses cookie to eat on your way. hurry back and bring the doctor with you if you can." so jimmie said he would, and off he started, eating the molasses cookie that his mamma had baked. he was thinking how good it was, and wishing it was larger when, all at once, he stepped on a sharp stone and hurt his foot so that he couldn't walk. "oh, dear!" cried jimmie. "what shall i do? i can't go get dr. possum for percival now." well, he was in great pain, and he was just wondering how he could send word to the doctor when, all at once, he saw a pony-horse in the field near by. "the very thing!" exclaimed jimmie. "that is munchie trot, the pony boy, and he'll let me ride to the doctor on his back." so jimmie took a stick to use as a cane, and he managed to get right close up beside the pony-horse, who was eating grass. "i'll surprise him," thought jimmie. "i'll fly up on his back before he sees me." so with his strong wings he flew up on the pony's back and he cried out: "surprise on you, munchie! please gallop and trot with me to dr. possum's so he can make percival well." and then a funny thing happened. all at once jimmie noticed that he was on the back of a strange pony. it wasn't munchie trot at all! jimmie had made a mistake. think of that! and the worst of it was that when he flew so suddenly up on the pony's back jimmie frightened him, and the next instant the pony jumped over the fence and began running down the road as fast as he could. "oh! stop! stop!" cried jimmie. "i'll fall off!" the duck boy had to take hold of the pony's mane in his yellow bill, and he had to hold on so he wouldn't fall off. faster and faster ran the pony, trying to get away from what was on his back, for he hadn't seen jimmie fly up, and he didn't know what it was. maybe he thought it was a burglar fox, but i'm not sure. anyhow the pony went faster and faster, and though jimmie cried as hard as he could for him to stop the pony wouldn't do it. jimmie was almost falling off, and he thought surely he would be hurt, when, all of a sudden, down the road, came uncle wiggily in his automobile. he saw what was the matter. "hold on, jimmie!" cried the old gentleman rabbit. "hold on, and i'll be up to you in a minute. then you can fly into my auto and be safe." well, the pony was going fast, but the auto went faster, and it was soon up beside the little galloping horsie. "now jump, jimmie!" called uncle wiggily, and the boy duck did so, landing safely in the auto, and he wasn't hurt a bit. then the pony galloped on until he looked back and saw it had only been a duck on his back and then he was ashamed for having run away, and he stopped and said he was sorry, so jimmie forgave him. "quick, we must go for dr. possum for old dog percival," said jimmie, and he told uncle wiggily how the doctor hadn't yet come. then uncle wiggily told how he accidentally got a hole in one of his big rubber tires or he would have been home sooner. "but it's a good thing i happened to come along to help you," he said to jimmie, and jimmie thought so too. then they went for dr. possum, who had just come home, and they took him to percival in the auto, and dr. possum soon made percival all well, and i'm glad of it. then the doctor cured jimmie's sore foot, and everybody was happy, and i hope you are. and next, if the dried leaves don't blow in my window and scare the wallpaper so that it falls off, i'll tell you about uncle wiggily helping alice. story xi uncle wiggily helps alice. one day the postman bird flew down out of the sky and stopped in front of the wibblewobble duck house. uncle wiggily longears, the old gentleman rabbit, was out in front, cleaning some mud off his auto, for he had run it very fast into a puddle of water the day he saved jimmie off the pony's back. "does anybody named alice wibblewobble live here?" asked the postman bird as he looked in his bag of letters. "yes, alice lives here," said uncle wiggily. "and does lulu wibblewobble?" "yes, of course." "and jimmie, too?" "certainly," said the old gentleman rabbit. "then this is the right house," said the postman bird as he blew his whistle, like a canary, "and here is a letter for each of them." so he handed uncle wiggily three letters and then he flew up into the air again, as fast as he could go, to deliver the rest of the mail. "hum! i wonder who can be writing to lulu and alice and jimmie?" said uncle wiggily, as he looked at the letters. "well, i'll take them in the house. they look to me like party invitations; and i wonder why i didn't get one? but i suppose the young folks don't want an old rheumatic uncle around any more. ah, well, i'm getting old--getting old," and he went slowly into the house, feeling a bit sad. "here are some letters for you, children," he called to lulu and alice and jimmie. "the bird postman just brought them." "oh, fine!" cried the children, and they opened them all at once with their strong yellow bills. "goodie!" cried lulu as she read hers. "jennie chipmunk is going to have a party, and i'm invited." "so am i," cried alice. "and i," added jimmie. "i thought they were party invitations," said uncle wiggily, sort of sad and thoughtful-like. "when is it?" "to-night," said lulu. "then we must hurry and get ready," said alice. "i must iron out some of my hair ribbons so they will be nice and fresh." "oh, that's just like you girls," cried jimmie. "you have to primp and fuss. i can be ready in no time, just by washing my face." "oh!" cried lulu and alice together. "make him put on a clean collar, anyhow, mamma." "yes, i'll do that," agreed jimmie. well, pretty soon they were all getting ready to go to the party, and uncle wiggily went back to finish cleaning his auto and he was wishing he could go. but you just wait and see what happens. pretty soon it became night and then it was time for the party. lulu and jimmie were all ready, but it took alice such a long time to get her hair fixed the way she wanted it, and to get just the kind of hair ribbon that suited her, that she wasn't ready. you see, she had so many kinds of hair ribbons and she kept them all in a box, and really she didn't know just which one to take. first she picked out a red one, and she didn't like that, and then she picked out a blue one, and she didn't like that, and then she picked up a pink one, and then a green, and then a brown, and finally a skilligimink colored one, but none suited her. "hurry, alice," called lulu, "or you'll be late." "oh, you can go on ahead and i'll catch up to you and jimmie," said alice, trying another hair ribbon. "all right," they answered, and they started off. mr. and mrs. wibblewobble had gone across the street to pay a little visit to mr. and mrs. duckling, and so uncle wiggily and alice were all alone in the house. "you had better hurry, alice," said the old gentleman rabbit as he was reading the evening paper. "oh, i don't know what to do!" she cried. "i can't decide which hair ribbon to wear." "wear them all," called uncle wiggily with a laugh, but, of course, alice couldn't do that, and she was in despair, which means that she didn't know what to do. she laid all the ribbons back in the box, and she was just going to shut her eyes, and pick out the first one she could reach, and wear that whether she liked it or not, for she didn't want to be late to the party. and then, all of a sudden, in through the open window of her room the old skillery-scalery alligator put his long nose and he cried: "hair ribbons! i must have hair ribbons! give me hair ribbons!" and then what do you think he did? why, he grabbed up the whole box full of alice's lovely hair ribbons, and before she could say "scootum-scattum," if she had wanted to, that skillery-scalery alligator ran away with them in his mouth, taking his double-jointed tail with him. "oh!" cried alice. "oh! oh!" and she almost lost her breath, she was so surprised. "what is it?" cried uncle wiggily, running up to her room. "the alligator! he has taken my hair ribbons. quick, run after him, dear uncle wiggily!" "i will!" exclaimed the brave old gentleman rabbit and out of the house he hurried, but the 'gator with the double-jointed tail had completely gone, and the rabbit gentleman couldn't catch him. "oh, what ever shall i do?" cried alice, when uncle wiggily came back. "i have no hair ribbon, and i can't go to the party!" well, uncle wiggily thought for a moment. he didn't tell alice that she should have hurried more and worn a pink ribbon, and then the accident wouldn't have happened. no, he didn't say anything like that; but he said: "i can help you, alice. down in the yard is some long grass, green, with white stripes in it. they call it ribbon grass. i will get some for a hair ribbon for you." "oh, thank you, so much!" said alice. so uncle wiggily quickly went down, pulled some of the ribbon grass and helped alice tie it in her feathers. and she looked too cute for anything, really she did. "now, quick, run and catch up to jimmie and lulu, and go to the party and have a good time," said uncle wiggily, and alice did. and what do you think? a little while after that up to the duck-house drove sammie littletail in a pony cart. "oh, uncle wiggily!" cried sammie, "jennie chipmunk was so flustrated about her party that she forgot to send you an invitation. but she wants you very much, so i've come to take you to it. come along with me!" then uncle wiggily was very glad, for he liked parties as much as you do, and he jumped into the cart with sammie and they went to the party and had a lovely time. and the next day uncle wiggily went out in his auto, and he made the alligator give back all of alice's hair ribbons, and none of them was lost or soiled the least bit, i'm glad to say. now, no more at present, if you please, but if the picture book doesn't read about the sandman and go to sleep on the front porch, i'll tell you next about uncle wiggily and the doll doctor. story xii uncle wiggily and the doll doctor "now, i wonder where i will go to-day?" said uncle wiggily, the old gentleman rabbit to himself, as he went along, in his automobile, turning around the corner by an old black stump-house, where lived a nice owl school teacher lady. "i wonder where i had better go? i have it! i'll call on grandfather goosey gander and play a game of scotch checkers!" and off he went. it was generally that way with uncle wiggily. he would start off pretending he had no place in particular to go, but he would generally end up at grandpa goosey's house. there the old rabbit gentleman and the old duck gentleman would sit and play scotch checkers and eat molasses cookies with cabbage seeds on top, and they would talk of the days when they were young, and could play ball and go skating, and do all of those things. but this time uncle wiggily never got to grandfather goosey's house. as he was going along in the woods, all of a sudden he came to a little house that stood under a christmas tree, and on this house was a sign reading: dr. monkey doodle. sick dolls made well. "ha! that is rather strange!" exclaimed uncle wiggily. "i never knew there was a doll doctor here. he must have moved in only lately. i must look into this!" so the rabbit gentleman went up to the little house, and, as he came nearer he heard some one inside exclaiming: "oh, i'll never get through to-day, i know i won't! oh, the trouble i'm in! oh, if i only had some one to help me!" "my! what is that!" cried uncle wiggily, stopping short. "perhaps i am making a mistake. that may be a trap! no, it doesn't look like a trap," he went on, as he peered all about the little house and saw nothing dangerous. then the voice cried again: "oh, i am in such trouble! will no one help me?" [illustration] now uncle wiggily was always on the lookout to help his animal friends, but he did not know who this one could be. "still," said the rabbit gentleman to himself, "he is in trouble. maybe a mosquito has bitten him. i'm going to see." so uncle wiggily marched bravely up to the little house under the christmas tree, and knocked on the door. "come in!" cried a voice. "but if you're a little animal girl, with a sick doll, or one that needs mending, you might as well go away and come back again. i'm head-over heels in work, and i'll never get through. in fact i can't work at all. oh, such trouble as i am in!" "well, maybe i can help you," said uncle wiggily. "at any rate i have no doll that needs mending." so into the little house he went, and what a queer sight he saw! there was dr. monkey doodle, sitting on the floor of his shop, and scattered all about him were dolls--dolls--dolls! all sorts of dolls--but not a good, whole, well doll in the lot. some dolls had lost their wigs, some had swallowed their eyes, others had lost a leg, or both arms, or a foot. one poor doll had lost all her sawdust, and she was as flat as a pancake. another had dropped one of her shoe button eyes, and a new eye needed to be sewed in. one doll had stiff joints, which needed oiling, while another, who used to talk in a little phonograph voice, had caught such a cold that she could not speak or even whisper. "my, what sort of a place is this?" asked uncle wiggily, in surprise. "it is the doll hospital," said dr. monkey doodle. "think of it! all these dolls to fix before night, and i can't touch a one of them!" "why must all the dolls be fixed to-night?" the rabbit gentleman wanted to know. "because they are going to a party," explained dr. monkey doodle. "susie littletail, the rabbit is giving a party for all the little animal girls, and every one is going to bring her doll. but all the dolls were ill, or else were broken, and the animal children brought them all to me at once, so that i am fairly overwhelmed with work, if you will kindly permit me to say so," remarked the monkey doctor. "of course, i'll let you say so," said uncle wiggily. "but, if you will kindly pardon me, why don't you get up and work, instead of sitting in the middle of the floor, feeling sorry for yourself?" "true! why do i not?" asked the monkey doctor. "well, to be perfectly plain, i am stuck here so fast that i can't move. one of the dolls, i think it was cora ann multiplicationtable, upset the pot of glue on the floor. i came in hurriedly, and, not seeing the puddle of glue, i slipped in it. i fell down, i sat right in the glue, and now i am stuck so fast that i can't get up. "so you see that's why i can't work on the broken dolls. i can't move! and oh, what a time there'll be when all those animal girls come for their dolls and find they're not done. oh, what a time i'll have!" and the monkey doctor tried to pull himself up from the glue on the floor, but he could not--he was stuck fast. "oh, dear!" he cried. "now don't worry!" spoke uncle wiggily kindly. "i think i can help you." "oh, can you!" cried dr. monkey doodle. "and will you?" "i certainly will," said uncle wiggily, tying his ears in a bowknot so they would not get tangled in the glue. "but how can you help me?" asked the monkey doctor. "in the first place," went on the rabbit gentleman. "i will pour some warm water all around you on the glue. that will soften it, and by-and-by you can get up. and while we are waiting for that you shall tell me how to cure the sick dolls and how to mend the broken ones and i'll do the best i can." "fine!" cried dr. monkey doodle, feeling happier now. so uncle wiggily poured some warm water on the glue that held the poor monkey fast, taking care not to have the water too hot. then uncle wiggily said: "now, we'll begin on the sick dolls. who's first?" "take sallie jane ticklefeather," said the monkey. "she needs some mucilage pills to keep her hair from sticking up so straight. she belongs to a little girl named rosalind." so uncle wiggily gave sallie jane ticklefeather some mucilage pills. then he gave another doll some sawdust tea and a third one some shoe-button pudding--this was the doll who only had one eye--and soon she was all cured and had two eyes. and then such a busy time as uncle wiggily had! he hopped about that little hospital, sewing arms and legs and feet on the dolls that had lost theirs. he oiled up all the stiff joints with olive oil, and one doll, whose eyes had fallen back in her head, uncle wiggily fixed as nicely as you please. only by mistake he got in one brown eye and one blue one, but that didn't matter much. in fact, it made the doll all the more stylish. "oh, but there are a lot more dolls to fix!" cried the monkey doctor. "never mind," said uncle wiggily. "you will soon be loose from the glue, and you can help me!" "oh, i wish i were loose now!" cried the monkey. he gave himself a tremendous tug and a pull, uncle wiggily helping him, and up he came. then how he flew about that hospital, fixing the dolls ready for the party. "hark!" suddenly called uncle wiggily. "it's the girl animals coming for their dolls," said the monkey. "oh, work fast! work fast!" outside the doll hospital susie littletail, the rabbit girl, and alice and lulu wibblewobble, the duck girls, and all their friends were calling: "are our dolls mended? are they ready for us?" "not yet, but soon," answered uncle wiggily, and then he and the monkey worked so fast! dolls that had lost their heads had new ones put on. the doll that had spilled all her sawdust was filled up again, plump and fat. one boy soldier doll, who had lost his gun was given a new one, and a sword also. and the phonograph doll was fixed so that she could sing as well as talk. "but it is almost time for the party!" cried susie littletail. "just a minute!" called uncle wiggily. "there is one more doll to fix." then he quickly painted some red cheeks on a poor little pale doll, who had had the measles, and in a moment she was as bright and rosy again as a red apple. then all the dolls were fixed, and the girl animals took them to a party and had a fine time. "hurray for uncle wiggily!" cried susie littletail, and all the others said the same thing. "he certainly was kind to me," spoke dr. monkey doodle, as he cleaned the glue up off the floor. and that's all there is to this story, but in the next one, if the goldfish doesn't bite a hole in his globe and let all the molasses run over the tablecloth, i'll tell you about uncle wiggily and the flowers. story xiii uncle wiggily and the flowers one saturday, when there was no school, charley chick was playing soldier in the chicken coop, and beating the drum that uncle wiggily had given him, for christmas. and arabella, who was charley's sister, was playing with her talking doll. the little chicken girl was teaching the doll to recite that piece about "once a trap was baited, with a piece of cheese." but the doll couldn't seem to get the verses right. she would say it something like this: "once a trap was baited, with a twinkling star. 'twas christmas eve and santa claus was coming from afar. "a little drop of water, was in jack horner's pie when mary lost her little lamb old mother goose did cry." "oh, you'll never get that right!" exclaimed arabella. "uncle wiggily, can't you make my talking doll learn to speak pieces right? she gets them all mixed up." "i'll try," said the old gentleman rabbit, and he was just telling the doll how to recite a poem about little monkey-jack upon a stick of candy, and every time he took a bite it tasted fine and dandy. well, the doll had learned one verse, when, all at once, there came a knock on the door, and there stood a telegraph messenger boy, with a telegram for uncle wiggily. "oh, something has happened!" exclaimed mrs. chick. "i am so nervous whenever telegrams come." "wait until i read it," said the old gentleman rabbit, and when he had read it he said: "it is from aunt lettie, the old lady goat. she has the epizootic very badly, from having eaten some bill-board pictures of a snowstorm, which made her catch cold, and she wants to know if i can't come over to see her, and tell dr. possum to bring her some medicine. of course i will. i'll start off at once." so uncle wiggily started off, in his automobile, and on his way to see the old lady goat he stopped at the doctor's house, and dr. possum promised to come as soon as he could, and cure the old lady goat. "then i'll go on ahead," spoke uncle wiggily, "and tell her you are coming." so he hurried on, with his long ears flapping to and fro, and he hadn't gone very far before he came to a shop where a man had flowers to sell--roses and violets and pinks and all lovely blossoms like that. "the very thing!" exclaimed uncle wiggily, as he saw the pretty posies. "sick persons like flowers, and i'll take some to aunt lettie. they may cheer her up." so he bought a large and kept on toward the old lady goat's house. well, he hadn't gone very far before, all at once, as he was going around the corner by the prickly briar bush, that had berries on it in the summer time, all at once, i say, out jumped a big black bear. at first uncle wiggily thought it was a good bear, and he stopped the auto to shake paws with him. but, all at once, he saw that it was a bad bear, whom he had never seen before. "oh, my!" exclaimed uncle wiggily, surprised-like. "i--i guess i have made a mistake. i don't know you. i beg your pardon." "you don't need to do that," growled the bear. "you'll soon know me well enough. you and i are going to be very well acquainted soon. you come with me," and with that he grabbed hold of the old gentleman rabbit and marched off with him, pulling him right out of the auto. "where are you taking me?" asked uncle wiggily, trying to be brave, and not shiver or shake. "to my den," answered the bear in a grillery-growlery voice. "i haven't had my christmas or new year's dinner yet, and here it is the middle of january. bur-r-r-r-r-r-r! wow!" "oh, what a savage bear," exclaimed uncle wiggily. "what makes you so cross?" "just look at my feet and you'll see why," answered the bear, and uncle wiggily looked, and as true as i'm telling you, there were a whole lot of walnut shells fast on the bear's feet. "that's enough to make any one cross," said the bear. "i stepped in these shells that some one threw out of their window after christmas, and they stuck on so tight that i can't get them off. talk about corns! these are worse than any corns. i have to walk on my tiptoes all the while, and i'm so cross that i could eat a hot cross bun and never know it. bur-r-r-r-r! wow! woof!" "oh, my!" exclaimed uncle wiggily. "then i guess it's all up with me," and he felt quite sad-like. "you may well say that!" growled the bear. "come along!" and he almost pulled uncle wiggily head over paws. "what have you in that paper?" asked the bear, as he saw the bag of flowers in uncle wiggily's paw. "some blossoms for poor sick aunt lettie!" answered the rabbit gentleman. "poor, sick aunt lettie----" "bur-r-r-r-r-r! wow! woof! bah! don't talk to me about sick goats!" growled the bear. "i'm sicker than any goat of these walnut shells on my feet. bur-r-r-r-r! wow! woof!" and then uncle wiggily thought of something. gently opening the paper he took out one nice, big, sweet-smelling rose and handed it to the bear, saying nothing. "bur-r-r-r-r! wow! what's this?" growled the bear, and before he knew what he was doing he had taken the rose in his big paws. and then, before he knew, the next thing, he was smelling of it. and, as he smelled the sweet perfume, he seemed to think he was in the summer fields, all covered with flowers, and as he looked at the rose it seemed to remind him of the time when he was a little bear, and wasn't bad, and didn't say such things as "bur-r-r-r-r!" "wow!" and then once more he smelled of the perfume in the flower, and he seemed to forget the pain of the walnut shells on his feet. "oh, uncle wiggily!" exclaimed the bear, and tears came into his blinkery-inkery eyes, and rolled down his black nose. "i'm sorry i was bad to you. this flower is so lovely that it makes me want to be good. run along, now, before i change my mind and get bad again." "first let me help you take those walnut shells off your paws," said the rabbit gentleman, and he did so, prying them off with a stick, and then the bear felt ever so much better and he hurried to his den, still smelling the beautiful rose. so you see flowers are sometimes good, even for bears. then uncle wiggily hurried on to aunt lettie's house with the rest of the bouquet, and when she saw it she was quite some better, and when dr. possum gave her some medicine she was all better, and she thought uncle wiggily was very brave to do as he had done to the bear. and on the next page, in case the eggbeater doesn't hit the rolling pin and make the potato masher fall down in the ice cream cone, i'll tell you about uncle wiggily and susie's doll. story xiv uncle wiggily and susie's doll "well, i see you are going out for another ride in your auto," remarked mrs. bow wow, the puppy dog lady, to uncle wiggily, one morning, after peetie and jackie had gone to school. "where are you bound for now?" "oh, no place in particular," he said. "i just thought i would take a ride for my health." you see the rabbit gentleman had come to pay the dog family a visit. "i should think you'd stay in when it snows," went on the doggie lady. "you seem always to be out in a snowstorm," for it was snowing quite hard just then. "i love the snow," said the old gentleman rabbit. "i like cold weather, for then my thick fur coat keeps me much warmer than in the summer time. and i like the snow--i like to see it come down, and feel it blow in my face and make my auto go through the drifts." "well, be careful you don't get stuck in any drifts and freeze fast," said mrs. bow wow, as she began washing the breakfast dishes. "i'll try not to," promised uncle wiggily, and then he put some oil on his auto, and gave it a drink of warm water (for autos get thirsty sometimes), and away the old gentleman rabbit rode through the snowstorm. "i guess i'll go call on aunt lettie, the old lady goat, to-day," he thought as he went through a big snowdrift, scattering the snow on both sides like an electric-car snow plow. "i haven't seen aunt lettie in some time, and she may be ill again." for this was some time after uncle wiggily had brought her the flowers. well, pretty soon he was at the old lady goat's house, and, surely enough she had been ill again. she had eaten some red paper, off the outside of a tomato can, one day right after christmas, and the paper didn't have the right kind of stickumpaste on it, so aunt lettie was taken ill on that account. "but i'm much better now," she said to uncle wiggily, "and i'm real glad you called. come in and i'll give you a hot cup of old newspaper tea." "um, i don't know as i care for that," said the old gentleman rabbit, making his nose twinkle like a star on a frosty night. "oh, i'm surprised to hear you say that," spoke aunt lettie, sorrowful-like. "newspaper tea is very good, especially with cream-stickum-mucilage in it. but never mind, i'll give you some carrot tea," and she did, and she and uncle wiggily sat and talked about old times, and the fun nannie and billie goat used to have, until it was time for the old gentleman rabbit to go back home. school was out as he went along in his auto. he could tell that because he met so many of the animal children. and he gave peetie and jackie bow wow and johnnie and billie bushtail a ride toward home. but before they got there, all of a sudden, as the four animal children were in the auto, and uncle wiggily was making it go through a snowdrift, all of a sudden, i say the old gentleman rabbit turned around a corner, and there was susie littletail, the little rabbit girl, standing in front of a big heap of snow. and she was crying very hard, her tears falling down, and making little holes in the snow, and she was poking into the drift with a long stick. "why, susie!" asked uncle wiggily, "whatever is the matter?" "oh, my doll! my lovely, big, new christmas doll!" cried susie. "i had her to school with me, for we are learning to sew in our class, and i was making my dollie a new dress, and--and--" and then poor susie cried so hard that she couldn't talk. "don't tell me some one took your doll away from you!" exclaimed uncle wiggily. "if they did i'll go after them and get it back for you!" cried jackie bow wow. "so will i!" said peetie and billie and johnnie. "no, it isn't that," spoke the little rabbit girl. "but as i was walking along, with my dollie in my arms, all of a sudden she slipped out, fell into this big snowbank, and i can't find her! she's all covered up. boo hoo! hoo boo!" "oh, don't take on so," said uncle wiggily kindly. "we will all help you hunt for your dollie; won't we, boys?" "sure!" cried peetie and jackie and billie and johnnie. so they all got sticks and poked in the snow bank, uncle wiggily poking harder than anybody, but it was of no use. they couldn't seem to find that lost doll. "she must be very deep under the snow!" said uncle wiggily. "oh, i'll never see her again!" cried susie. "my big, beautiful christmas doll. boo-hoo! hoo-boo!" "you can get her when the snow melts," spoke peetie bow wow, as he scratched away at the drift with his paws. "yes, but then the wax will be all melted off her face, and she won't look like anything," murmured susie, sad-like. "wait; i have a plan," said uncle wiggily. "there is a fan, like an electric one, in the front part of my auto to keep the water cool. i'll make that fan blow the snow away and we'll get your doll." so he tried that, making the fan whizz around like a boy's top, but, though it blew some snow away, the doll couldn't be found. "oh, i'll never see my big, beautiful doll again!" cried susie. "oh, whatever is the matter?" asked a voice, and, turning around, they all saw the big, black, woolly bear standing there. at first the animal children were frightened until uncle wiggily said: "oh, that bear won't hurt us. i once helped him get some walnut shells off his paws, so he is a friend of mine." "of course i am," said the bear. "what is the trouble?" then they told him about susie's doll being under the drift, and the bear went on: "don't worry about that. my paws are just made for digging in the snow. i'll have that doll for you in a jiffy, which is very quick." so with his paws he began digging in the snow. my! how he did make the snow fly, and he blew it away with his strong breath. faster and faster flew the snow, and in about a minute it was all scraped away, and there was susie's doll safe and sound. and she was sleeping with her eyes shut. "oh, you darling!" susie cried, clasping the doll in her arms. "did you mean me?" asked the bear, laughing. "yes, i guess i did!" said susie, also laughing, and she gave the bear a nice little kiss on the end of his black nose. then everybody was happy and the bear went back to his den and uncle wiggily took the children and the doll home, and that's all i can tell you now, if you please. but, if the rocking horse doesn't run away and upset the milk pitcher down in the salt cellar and scare the furnace so that it goes out, i'll tell you in the story after this one, about uncle wiggily on roller skates. story xv uncle wiggily on roller skates "well, where are you going this morning?" asked jimmie wibblewobble, the duck boy, as he looked out of the front door of his house, and saw uncle wiggily, the old gentleman rabbit, putting some gasoline in his automobile. "oh, i am going to take a little ride out in the country," said uncle wiggily. "i am going to see if i can find an adventure. nothing has happened since we found susie's doll. i must have excitement. it keeps me from thinking about my rheumatism. so i am going to look for an adventure, jimmie." "i wish i could come," said the little duck boy. "i wish you could too," said his uncle. "but you must go to school. some saturday i'll take you with me, and we may find an adventure for each of us." "and for us girls, too?" asked lulu and alice as they came out, all ready to go to school. alice had just finished tying her sky-yellow-green hair ribbon into two lovely bow knots. "yes, for you duck girls, too," said uncle wiggily. "but i will be back here when you come from school, and if anything happens to me i'll tell you all about it." so he kept on putting gasoline in his automobile until he had the tinkerum-tankerum full, and then he tickled the hickory-dickory-dock with a mucilage brush, and he was all ready to start off and look for an adventure. so lulu and alice and jimmie went on to school, and uncle wiggily rode along over the fields and through the woods and up hill and down hill. pretty soon, as he was riding along, he heard a funny little noise in the bushes. it was a sad, little, squeaking sort of noise and at first the old gentleman rabbit thought it was made by something on his automobile that needed oiling. then he looked over the side and there, sitting under an old cabbage leaf, was a little mousie girl, and it was she who was crying. "oh, ho!" exclaimed uncle wiggily, "is that you, squeaky-eaky?" for he thought it might be the little cousin-mouse who lived with jollie and jillie longtail, as i have told you in other stories. "no, i am not squeaky-eaky," said the little mouse girl, "but i am cold and hungry and i don't know what to do or where to go. oh, dear! boo-hoo!" "never mind," said uncle wiggily kindly. "i will take you in my auto, and i'll bring you to the house where the longtail children live, and they'll take care of you." "oh, goody!" cried the little girl mouse. "thank you so much. now i am happy." so uncle wiggily took her in the nice, warm automobile. then he twisted the noodleum-noddleum until it sneezed, and away the auto went through the woods again. and, all of a sudden, just as uncle wiggily came to a big black stump, out jumped the burglar bear with roller skates on his paws. "hold on there!" the bear cried to the old gentleman rabbit, and he poked a stick in the auto wheels, so they couldn't go around any more. "hold on, if you please, mr. rabbit. i want you." "what for?" asked uncle wiggily. "i want you to come to supper," said the burglar bear. "your supper or my supper?" asked uncle wiggily, politely. "my supper, of course," said the burglar bear. "i am going to have rabbit pot-pie to-night, and you are going to be both the rabbit and the pie. come, now, get out of that auto. i want to ride in it before i bite you." well, of course, uncle wiggily felt pretty badly, but there was no help for it. he had to get out, and then the burglar bear, taking off his roller skates, got up into the automobile. "oh, what nice soft cushions!" exclaimed the bear as he sank down on them. then he took hold of the turnip steering wheel in his claws and twisted it. "i shall have lots of fun riding in this auto, after i gobble you up," said the bear, looking at the rabbit with his blinky eyes. "i must learn to run it. i think i'll take a little ride before i have my supper. but don't you dare run away, for i can catch you." then, to make sure uncle wiggily couldn't get away, the bear took the old rabbit gentleman's crutch away from him and uncle wiggily's rheumatism was so severe, which means painful, that he couldn't walk a step without his crutch. so there was no use for him to try to run away. [illustration] well, the bear knew how to run the auto, it seems, and he started to take a little ride in it. uncle wiggily felt pretty sad because he was going to be gobbled up and lose his auto at the same time. all at once, when the bear in the auto was some distance off in the woods, uncle wiggily heard a little voice speaking to him. "hey, uncle wiggily," the voice said, "i know how you can get the best of that bear!" "how?" asked uncle wiggily, eagerly. "here are his roller skates," said the voice, and it was the little mousie girl who was speaking. she had quietly jumped out of the auto. "put on his roller skates," said the mousie, "and skate down the hill until you see a policeman dog. then tell the policeman dog to come and arrest the bear. he'll do it, and then you'll get your auto back. you can go on roller skates even if you have rheumatism, can't you?" "i guess so," said the rabbit. "i'll try." so he put on the skates while the burglar bear was making the auto go around in a circle in the woods, and that bear was having a good time. all at once uncle wiggily skated away. first he went slowly, and then he went faster and faster until he was just whizzing along. and then, at the foot of the hill, he found the policeman dog. "oh, please come and arrest the burglar bear for me?" begged uncle wiggily. "to be sure i will," said the policeman dog. so he put on his roller skates, and skated back with uncle wiggily to where the bear was still in the auto. the policeman dog hid behind a stump. the bear stopped the auto in front of uncle wiggily and got out. "well," said the burglar bear, smacking his lips, "i guess it's supper time now. i'm going to eat you. come on and be my pot-pie!" and he made a grab for the old gentleman rabbit. "oh, you will; will you?" suddenly cried the policeman dog, drawing his club, and jumping from behind the stump. "well, i guess you won't eat my good friend, uncle wiggily. i guess not!" and with that the policeman dog tickled the bear so on his nose that he sneezed, and ran off through the woods taking his stubby little tail with him, but leaving behind his roller skates. "oh, i'm ever so much obliged to you, policeman dog," said the old gentleman rabbit, as he took off the bear's skates. "you saved my life. i'll take these skates home to jimmie. they will fit him when he grows bigger." "that is a good idea," said the dog, "and if i ever catch that bear again i will put him in the beehive jail and make him crack hickory nuts with his teeth." then uncle wiggily went home, and took the little mousie girl with him, and he told the duck children about his adventure with the bear, just as i have told you. so now it's bedtime, if you please, and i can't tell you any more. but if the man who cleans our yard doesn't take my overcoat for an ash can and put the dried leaves in it, i'll tell you next about uncle wiggily and the clothes wringer. story xvi uncle wiggily and the clothes wringer one day jackie and peetie bow wow, the little puppy dog boys, came running over to uncle wiggily's hollow stump-house. it was after school, from which they had just come, and they rushed up the front steps, barking like anything, and calling out: "where's uncle wiggily? where is he?" "we want to see him in a hurry!" barked peetie. "yes, immediately," went on jackie. he had heard the teacher that day in school use the word, immediately, to tell a bad bumble bee to take his seat and stop trying to sting lulu wibblewobble. immediately means right off quick, without waiting, you know. "hoity-toity!" cried nurse jane fuzzy-wuzzy, the muskrat housekeeper. "what is the trouble?" "we must see uncle wiggily immediately!" barked peetie again, trying to stand on one ear. but he could not make it stiff enough, so he fell down, and bumped into jackie, and they both tumbled down the steps, making a great racket. "there, there! you must be more quiet," cautioned nurse jane. "uncle wiggily just came back from his auto ride for his health, and is taking a nap. you must not wake him up. what do you want to see him about that is so important?" "oh, we'll wait until he wakes up," said jackie, as he sat down on the porch. "ha! who wants me?" suddenly exclaimed a voice a little later, and out came uncle wiggily himself. "we do!" cried jackie. "oh, uncle wiggily!" "we're going to work!" added peetie, unable to keep still any longer. "what! you don't mean to say you're going to leave school and go to work?" asked uncle wiggily. "no, we're not going to leave school," exclaimed peetie. "we are going to work after school. jackie is going to deliver newspapers." "and i'm going to get ten cents a week for it," said jackie proudly, but not too proud. "and i'm going to help at the clothes wringer for the circus elephant," exclaimed peetie. "help at the wringer for the elephant!" cried uncle wiggily. "what does that mean? you startle and puzzle me." "why, you know the circus elephant has to dress up like a clown," went on peetie. "and he plays a drum and a handorgan, and he fires off a cannon in the sawdust ring. and he does a lot of things like that. after a while his white clown suit gets all dirty and he has to wash out his clothes. then he has to squeeze them in a wringer to get as much of the water out as he can. then he hangs them up to dry. "well, he can turn the wringer himself with his trunk, but his paws are so big that he can't put the clothes through between the rubber rollers. so he advertised for some little animal boy to help him after school. i answered, and i'm going to help him wash and dry his clothes." "how much are you to get?" asked uncle wiggily. "i get three puppy biscuits every day and a glass of pink lemonade, and on saturday afternoons i can go to the circus for nothing." "fine!" cried uncle wiggily. "i'm real glad you came to tell me. you are good and smart little animal boys." then peetie and jackie ran off to do the new work they had arranged for, and uncle wiggily cleaned his auto ready for his ride next day. and when he had finished he thought he would take a walk down to the circus tent and see how peetie was helping the elephant wash the clothes. as for jackie, he had to run so fast, here and there and everywhere, to deliver his papers that uncle wiggily did not know where to find him, any more than bo-peep did her sheep. well, in a little while, the rabbit gentleman came to where the elephant was washing his clothes. of course he had to have a very large tub and washboard and an extra large wringer for his clothes were very large. and there, up on a box in front of the tub, that was filled with suds and water, stood peetie bow wow, splashing around, and reaching down in for the wet clothes. and as he fished them up, and put the ends between the rubber rollers of the wringer, the elephant would turn the handle of the squee-gee machine with his trunk. "how is that?" asked peetie. "fine!" cried the elephant, making his trunk go faster and faster, and squirting the water out of the wet clothes, all over the ground. "yes, peetie is a good little chap," said uncle wiggily. just then the elephant's brother came along, and the two big animals began talking together. and, as they were both a little deaf, each one shouted to the other as loudly as he could. oh! such a racket as they made--thunder was nothing to it! and then a funny thing happened. peetie turned around to put some more clothes in the tub, when, all of a sudden, his tail got caught in between the wringer's rubber rollers. "ouch!" cried the little puppy dog. "ouch! oh, dear me! stop, please, mr. elephant. don't turn the wringer any more!" but the two elephants were talking together, each one as loudly as he could, about how much hay they could eat, and how some little boys at a circus would give them only one peanut instead of a whole bag full, and all things like that. so the clothes-washing elephant never noticed that peetie's tail was caught in the rollers. and he didn't hear him cry. around and around the elephant turned the handle of the wringer with his trunk, winding peetie's tail right between the rollers, and drawing the little puppy dog boy himself closer and closer into the tub, over the water and nearer to the rubber rollers themselves. [illustration] "oh, stop! oh, stop!" cried poor peetie trying to get away, but he could not. "if i get rolled between the rollers i'll be as flat as a pancake!" he screamed. "oh, stop! oh, uncle wiggily, save me!" "yes, i will!" cried the rabbit gentleman. "you must stop turning that wringer!" he said to the circus elephant. "you are wringing peetie instead of the clothes. his tail is caught!" but the elephant was so deaf, and his brother was calling to him so loudly about pink lemonade, that he could not hear either peetie or uncle wiggily. then, to make him listen, uncle wiggily with his crutch tickled the elephant's foot, which was as high up as he could reach, but the big creature thought it was only a mosquito, and paid no attention. "oh, what shall i do?" cried peetie. "i'll save you!" exclaimed uncle wiggily, and then, happening to have a bag of peanuts in his pocket he held them close to the elephant's trunk. the elephant could smell, if he could not hear well, and all at once he took the peanuts, and as he did so, of course, he removed his trunk from the wringer handle. and as he ate the peanuts he saw what a terrible thing he was doing, wringing peetie instead of the clothes, so he very kindly made the wringer go backwards, and out came peetie's tail again, a little flat, but not much hurt otherwise. "i am so sorry," said the elephant. "i wouldn't have had it happen for the world." "yes, it was an accident," spoke uncle wiggily, "but i guess peetie had better find some other kind of work to do after school." "all right," said the elephant. "i'll pay him off, and then i'll get a rubbery snake to help me with my clothes. a snake won't mind being squeezed." so he did that, and peetie and uncle wiggily went home, and nothing more happened that day. but next, in case the automobile horn doesn't blow the little girl's rubber balloon up in the top of the tree, where the kittie cat has its nest, i'll tell you about uncle wiggily and the trained nurse. story xvii uncle wiggily and the trained nurse uncle wiggily longears, the gentleman rabbit, was out riding in his automobile. he was taking exercise, so he would not be so fat, for a fat rabbit is about the fattest thing there is, except a balloon, and that doesn't count, as it has no ears. "i wonder what will happen to me to-day?" said uncle wiggily, as he rode along, turning the turnip steering wheel from one side to the other to keep from bumping into stones and stumps, and things like that. and, every now and then, uncle wiggily would take a bite out of his turnip steering wheel. that was what it was for, you see. and as for the german bologna sausages which were the tires, uncle wiggily used to let anybody who wanted to--such as a hungry doggie or a starving kittie--take a bite out of them whenever they wanted to. well, pretty soon, after a while, not so very long, uncle wiggily came to the top of a hill. he stopped his auto there to look around at the green fields and the apple trees in blossom, and at the little brook running along over the green, mossy stones. and the brook never stubbed its toe once on the stones! what do you think of that? "well, i guess i'll go down hill," thought the old gentleman rabbit, and down he started. but oh unhappiness! sadness, and, also, isn't it too bad! no sooner had uncle wiggily started down the hill in his auto than the snicker-snooker-um got twisted around the boodle-oodle-um, and that made the wibble-wobble-ton stand on its head, instead of standing on its ear as it really ought to have done. then the auto ran away, and the next thing uncle wiggily knew his car had hit a stump, turned a somersault and part of a peppersault, and he was thrown out. "bang!" he fell, right on the hard ground, and for a moment he stayed there, being too much out of breath to get up and see what was the matter. and when he tried to get up he couldn't. something had happened to him. he had hit his head on a stone. poor uncle wiggily! but, very luckily, dr. possum happened to be passing, having just come from paying a visit to grandfather goosey gander, who had, by mistake, eaten a shoe button with his corn meal pudding. and dr. possum, having cured grandpa goosey, went at once to help uncle wiggily. "we must get you home right away, uncle wiggily," said the doctor gentleman. "you must be put to bed and have a trained nurse." "well, as long as i have to have a nurse, i should much prefer," said uncle wiggily, faintly, "i should much prefer a trained one to a wild one. for a trained nurse who can do tricks will be quite funny." "hum!" exclaimed dr. possum. "a trained nurse has no time to do tricks. now rest yourself." so uncle wiggily sat back quietly in dr. possum's auto until he got to his hollow stump home. then old dog percival and the doctor carried the rabbit gentleman in, and they sent for a trained nurse. for uncle wiggily was quite badly hurt, and needed some one to feed him for a while. pretty soon the trained nurse came, and who did she turn out to be but nurse jane fuzzy wuzzy herself, the kind old muskrat. she had been living with uncle wiggily, but, for a time, had gone off to study to be a trained nurse. she put on a white cap and a blue and white striped dress, and she was just as good a nurse as one could get from the hospital. uncle wiggily was too ill to notice, though. "i know how to look after him," said nurse jane, and she really did. she felt of his pulse, and made him put out his tongue to look at, to see that he had not swallowed it by mistake, and she found out how hot he was to see if he had fever, and all things like that. and she put a report of all these things down on a bit of white birch bark for paper, using a licorice stick for a pencil. afterward dr. possum would read the report. well, for some time uncle wiggily was quite ill, for you know it is no fun to be in an automobile accident. then he began to get better. nurse jane did not have much to do, and dr. possum, who came in every day, said: "he will get well now. but uncle wiggily has had a hard time of it; very hard!" and, as soon as he began to get better, uncle wiggily got sort of impatient, and he wanted many things he could not have, or which were not good for him. he wanted to get out of bed, but nurse jane would not let him, for the doctor had told her not to. then uncle wiggily said: "well, you are a trained nurse. now you must do some tricks for me, or i shall get out of bed whether you want me to or not," and he barked like a dog; really he did. you see he was not exactly himself, but rather out of his head on account of the fever. "come on, do some tricks!" he cried to nurse jane. poor miss fuzzy-wuzzy! she had never done a trick since she was a little girl muskrat, but she knew sick rabbits must be humored, so she tried to think of a trick. she did not know whether to make believe jump rope, play puss in a corner or pretend that she was a fire engine. and she really wanted to help uncle wiggily! "come on! do something!" he cried, and he almost jumped out of bed. "do something." and just then, as it happened, a great big bee flew in the window, and maybe it was going to sting uncle wiggily, for all i know. then nurse jane knew what to do. she caught up a soft towel, so as not to hurt the bee any more than she had to, and she began hitting at him. "get out of here! get out of here!" cried nurse jane. "you can't sting uncle wiggily!" "buzz! buzz!" sang the bee. "go out! go out!" exclaimed nurse jane, and she made the towel sail through the air. the bee flew this way and that, up and down and sideways, but always nurse jane was after him with the towel, trying to drive him out of the window. she climbed up on chairs, she jumped over tables, without knocking over a single medicine bottle. she crawled under the sofa and out again, she even jumped on the couch and bounced up in the air like a balloon. and at last she drove the bad bee out doors where he could get honey from the flowers, and they didn't mind his stinging them if he wanted to, which of course he didn't. then, after that, nurse jane fuzzy wuzzy sat down in a chair, near uncle wiggily, very tired out indeed. the old gentleman rabbit opened his eyes and laughed a little. "those were funny tricks you did for me," he said, "jumping around like that. very funny! ha! ha!" "i was not doing tricks," answered nurse jane, surprised-like. "i was trying to keep a bee from biting you." "were you indeed?" spoke uncle wiggily. "i thought they were some of the tricks you had been trained to do. they were fine. i laughed so hard that i think i am much better." and, indeed, he was, and soon he was all well, so that nurse jane fuzzy, without really meaning to at all, had done some funny tricks when she drove out that bee. oh! trained nurses are very queer, i think, but they are very nice, also. so uncle wiggily was soon well, and needed no nurse, and when his auto was mended, he could ride around in it as nicely as before. =the sunnybrook series= by mrs. elsie m. alexander cloth bound, 12 mo. illustrations in color jackets in full color colored end papers, illus. * * * * * a remarkably well told, instructive series of stories of animals, their characteristics and the exciting incidents in their lives. young people will find these tales of animal life filled with a true and intimate knowledge of nature lore. * * * * * the happy family of beechnut grove (peter gray squirrel and family) buster rabbit, the explorer (the bunny rabbit family) adventures of tudie (the field mouse) tabitha dingle (the famous cat of sunnybrook meadow) roody and his underground palace (mr. woodchuck in his happy home) buff and duff (children of mrs. white-hen) * * * * * a. l. burt company, _publishers_ 114-120 east 23rd street new york =the wildwood series= by ben field cloth bound, 12 mo. illustrations in color jackets in full color colored end papers, illus. * * * * * in this new children's series the adventures of many familiar animal characters are pictured in a realistic manner. young readers will find these captivating tales of the habits, haunts and pranks of their little animal friends brimful of entertainment. * * * * * exciting adventures of mr. tom squirrel exciting adventures of mr. jim crow exciting adventures of mr. gerald fox exciting adventures of mr. melancthon coon exciting adventures of mr. robert robin exciting adventures of mr. bob white * * * * * a. l. burt company, _publishers_ 114-120 east 23rd street new york transcriber's note a few obvious typographical errors have been corrected. all other text and punctuation is retained. blank pages before illustrations have been removed. text in _italics_ or =bold= are indicated in this way. minnie; or, the little woman a fairy story. by the author of "violet." boston: phillips, sampson and company, 13 winter street. 1857. entered according to act of congress, in the year 1857, by phillips, sampson & co., in the clerk's office of the district court of the district of massachusetts. stereotyped by hobart & robbins, new england type and stereotype foundry, boston. [illustration: minnie and the squirrel.] how the story came to be written. one evening, last summer, a little girl, with laughing eyes that no one could resist, looked up into my face, and said, "'touldn't you wite me a story?" "yes. what shall it be about?" was the answer. "o, wite something i could wead myself,--something with pictures,--something like tom thumb, you know; and i shouldn't care if it had pink covers, too, and wasn't larger than--this." and she held up the palm of a rosy hand. in a moment more she came bounding back to whisper, "i shouldn't care if you left off the fingers, only make a _cunning_ story, and something i can wead." instead of leaving off, i should have to add a great many of minnie's fingers, to cover the book, which would grow so large, and i couldn't help it, any more than you can when a little bud opens out to a great flower. so, i ask her forgiveness; hoping that she will find, inside of the volume, something "cunning" enough to make her forget the covers. and now, dear children, if you like my story, you must all thank minnie c----, to whom it is dedicated, with the heartiest good wishes of the author. contents. page chapter i.--rodocanachi, 9 " ii.--dandelion, 15 " iii.--minnie's home, 21 " iv.--minnie and the squirrel, 26 " v.--a squirrel-back ride, 31 " vi.--living in a tree, 36 " vii.--master squirrel, 40 " viii.--night, 45 " ix.--the new home, 51 " x.--in the woods, 56 " xi.--the squirrel's party, 60 " xii.--by the river, 63 " xiii.--yellow-bird, 70 " xiv.--in a bird's nest, 75 " xv.--minnie and the birds, 81 " xvi.--the squirrel's team, 87 " xvii.--the moonlight dance, 92 " xviii.--the little nurses, 96 " xix.--mouse, 100 " xx.--housekeeping, 104 " xxi.--trouble for minnie, 108 " xxii.--trouble still, 113 " xxiii.--free at last, 118 " xxiv.--turtle, 123 " xxv.--minnie's wings, 127 " xxvi.--hide-and-seek, 130 " xxvii.--minnie in prison, 135 " xxviii.--narrow escapes, 140 " xxix.--the little seamstress, 146 " xxx.--stork, 151 " xxxi.--the sea-shore, 156 " xxxii.--storm and calm, 161 minnie; or, the little woman. chapter i. rodocanachi. somewhere in massachusetts is a little town as beautiful as a garden. nay, in summer-time i think this place is prettier than a garden; for it is not laid out in long, stiff beds and paths; but the roads wind about like rivers under its shady trees, and, wherever you see a bed of flowers, a cosey little house is sure to rise up in its midst; and then the hills,---did you ever read about the giant, who wouldn't give the fairies any peace, but chopped them up for mince-meat, and did all kinds of wicked things, till they resolved to kill him, if they could? the fairy queen, who was very wise, knew that the giant's strength lay in a great brass helmet which he wore; so she told her people to watch, and, if ever he laid it aside, to steal this, and hide it away. now, one summer's day, the giant went hunting, and had such good success that he came home with his arms full of game, tired and warm enough. i don't remember the giant's name: perhaps it was ugolino, or loeschigk, or rodocanachi. we'll call it rodocanachi. down he threw his game,--the deer and squirrels he had killed to eat; and the poor little robins, and blue-birds, and humming-birds, he had only killed for the pleasure of seeing them flutter down from the boughs where they were singing sweetly--down to the ground, with their broken, bloody wings. rodocanachi threw his game aside, and then lay down himself to drink from a pretty stream that ran bubbling and sparkling under the shady trees. he was so thirsty, and had such a monstrous swallow, that, before long, the stream stopped flowing, and, wherever the sun fell into its bed, the pebbles began to grow white and dry. he had drank it almost up, when the giant said to himself, "bah! what a shallow river, and how the pebbles get into my teeth! i must have a drop of wine to take away the earthy taste." there, under the shady trees, rodocanachi drank and smoked, till his head grew hotter than ever, and so confused, that he stretched himself upon the grass; and, while trying to collect his thoughts, fell fast asleep. then, how the fairies flew into sight! down they swung, from all the high oaks and elms, on rope-ladders made of spider-web; and, from under the broad mulleins, up they poured in a swarm; from the other side of the stream they fitted up rafts of pond-lily leaves, and came floating across; for, after the giant turned away, the river had run full again. what had seemed beds of fern-leaves came marching down from the hill-side, or out from the deep shade,--they were fairy armies, with banners all astir; and such a rustling as they made, and such a patter of little feet, and flutter of tiny wings, and singing and shouting of soft, glad voices, you never heard! last came the car of the fairy queen, a pearly pond-lily, lined and fringed inside with gold, with a golden seat, and drawn by six bright-blue dragon-flies, that sprinkled a light from their transparent wings, as the car shed fragrance all along its way. the queen arose and lifted her sceptre; which was tipped with a diamond so bright it shone like a star, and could light a path at midnight through the densest wood. she stretched this wand forth, and the noisy multitude grew so still--so still that you could not hear a sound, except the giant's breathing;--then she spoke: "the time we have watched and waited for so long, so impatiently, has come; the wicked rodocanachi is in our power at last. say, what shall we do with him, my subjects?" then swelled forth a breeze of little voices, so confused that you could not tell one from another; and the queen's wand rose again. "we have not a moment to waste, be still, and hear the advice of my general." "if i have led your armies bravely, o, great queen--" "yes, yes," interrupted the queen, "but what shall i do with rodocanachi? i'll praise you, and receive your compliments afterwards." "suffer me, then, to go alone, and, with my spear, this tough acacia-thorn, put out the giant's eyes." the fairy shook her head, and turned to a statesman, the greatest in all her kingdom: "what say you?" "cut off his hands and feet, and make mince-meat of them, as he made of my cousin's family!" again the queen shook her head, and turned to a grave judge, the wisest man in fairy-land: "let us go together, and, while he sleeps, roll this old sinner off from the mountain-top, that his bones may be well broken when he reaches the valley below!" at this the little people all shouted for joy, and some ran towards rodocanachi, impatiently, to begin; but the fairy, with her sparkling sceptre, called them back. puzzled and sorrowful, great queen as she was, she wrung her little hands and wept. "i cannot bear to do such cruel deeds," she sighed; "and yet how shall i banish this tyrant, and make my people happy? o, i wish any one, who thinks it a pleasant thing to be a queen, could stand in my place to-day!" chapter ii. dandelion. in the court of the fairy queen was a child, as pretty and gentle as a flower; a little boy, whose work it was to gather dew and honey, and bring it to his mistress in an acorn-cup, or strewn in separate drops over some broad leaf. now, this child loved his mistress dearly, and his heart was large and true as if it had beat in a larger bosom; he could not bear to think of torturing even the cruel rodocanachi,--much less could he bear to see his dear queen grieve. little fellow as he was, he tried to make his way toward the fairy's chariot; but the people crowded so, and moved their banners about so restlessly, that more than once he was thrown to the ground, and trodden under their feet. but dandelion--that was his name--caught at the tip of one of the fern-leaf banners, which happened to lean toward him; and, when it was lifted into the air, he swung himself, like a spider, from banner to banner, over the heads of the crowd. then he climbed up among the pearly, perfumed lily-leaves of the fairy's car, and, all powdered over himself with gold-dust from its splendid lining, knelt at his mistress' feet. the queen smiled through her tears,--for she was fond of dandelion,--and asked why he had come at such a time; then said: "perhaps my pretty one can give me some advice." and all the fairy-people laughed at the thought of a poor little boy being wiser than statesmen and generals. dandelion did not care how small they thought him, if he could but help his queen; so he said, bravely: "o, my great mistress, i was shaking dew out of the cups of white violets that grow by the stream, when this giant lay down near me and fell asleep. then all the people hurried, and i with them, to your court. i heard you ask what should be done with the wicked rodocanachi; and, when no one had an answer to give, and my mistress sorrowed, i crept back all alone to the hill-top, where the giant lay, and climbed on his shoulder--" [illustration: dandelion tickles the giant's nose.] "my brave little dandelion!" said the queen. "i had picked up a feather, that a wood-dove had just let fall on the grass; and with this i tickled rodocanachi's nose--" "fine work!" growled the general. "suppose you had wakened him, and we were all slaves again!" but the queen, waving the general back to his seat with her sceptre, said, "let the boy go on: i am curious to hear the rest." "the giant stirred; his head was on uneven ground, and the great brass helmet tipped, tipped, tipped, and at last it rolled away, and left his forehead bare." "o, dandelion, you have saved my kingdom!" said the queen; and the people all shouted "bravo!" and "hurrah for dandelion!" as, without waiting longer for leave, they rushed to the hill-top where rodocanachi lay. then came a clanging sound, as if all the mountains were great brass drums, and twenty giants were beating them--it echoed so far and wide. "ah, it's the giant's helmet! and now we fairies are safe!" exclaimed the queen. she clapped her hands, and the six blue dragon-flies flew to the hill-top with their chariot in time for dandelion to see the helmet, still jarring where it had been thrown by the fairy-people, far down among the rocks. "now, fly, fly quickly," said the queen, "and tear up sods and bushes, and gather leaves, till you've hidden the helmet so safely that rodocanachi can never find it again." fairies, though little people, are not slow; and when at last the giant, with a snore that sounded like thunder, awoke from his sleep, the helmet, for which he began to look at once, was nowhere to be seen. and the giant's strength was gone. he could not break the stem of a wild-flower, much less lift the game he had killed that very day. he could hardly totter home; and, when there, could not open his own door. so rodocanachi began a search for his helmet: all in vain, in vain. he stepped his great feet into it, and never guessed it was hid underneath the grass, and bushes, and flowers, that looked as if they had always grown where they were. for a year he wandered up and down the earth, growing thinner and sadder every day. he had nothing to satisfy his monstrous appetite except berries and mushrooms. sometimes the fairies, in pity of his wretched state, would crack a handful of nuts, or kill a frog or two, for his breakfast; but rodocanachi fairly starved and worried himself to death. and the queen was so grateful to dear little dandelion, that she made him always dress in cloth-of-gold, and gave him a beautiful golden shield. but this was only to remind the people how he looked when the boy crept up into her chariot that day, all dusted over with gold. when dandelion died, a plant sprang out of his grave,--and every one said the fairy put it there,--that had blossoms exactly like his golden shield; and, when these withered, there came globes of seed, with starry wings, that could fly about in the air, and swing on the wind, from leaf to leaf, as dandelion swung on the fern-leaf banners once. we call the flowers dandelions, to this day. when, in summer-time, you see these golden shields sprinkled over the meadows, and along the roadsides, you must think of the brave little fairy, who did great things because so willing to do the best that he could. chapter iii. minnie's home. we have found, from the history of dandelion, that no one is too small to be of use. we have found that kind hearts may succeed where wise heads and strong arms fail; but perhaps you will wonder what rodocanachi has to do with my story. i'll tell you. have you forgotten that i began to describe a beautiful little town, with roads that wound about like rivers, and houses set in the midst of garden-beds? great hills rose on every side, folding against each other as if they meant to shut out the rest of the world, with its noise, and trouble, and weariness. so the valley looked, from a distance, like a bird's nest lined with moss, and leaves, and long fine grass; and the houses and churches seemed like white eggs scattered among the greenery. or, if you stood in the centre, the slopes of the hills were so smooth and round, that the valley was like the inside of a painted bowl:--here were woods and waterfalls like pictures; here meadows of grass and grain; white patches of buckwheat, and the tender green of oat-fields, were striped along with brown potato-beds, and patches of dark-green tasselled maize. in this gay-painted bowl, in this soft grassy nest, lived a little girl, whose name was minnie, and whose history i mean to tell. but what has it all to do with rodocanachi? why, this: people say that the beautiful valley between the hills was nothing less than the inside of the giant's great brass helmet! rivers had found their way through it now, and forests had rooted themselves on the sods that were spread by fairy hands; yet, deep down underneath, the helmet still was wedged among the rocks. think what a giant rodocanachi must have been, when you could thus put a whole town into his hat! whether the wonderful place in which she lived had anything to do with minnie's strange history, i cannot tell. see what you think about it. the house of minnie's father was near the centre of the town, and in a street where there were many other houses. these were not joined together in a block, like city dwellings, but each had a garden and summer-house, and a patch of grass in front for the children's play-ground. around minnie's house was a curious fence, made of thin strips of iron, bound at the top with a square board, painted white. in the next house lived a boy named frank. he was a bright, good-natured little fellow, just of minnie's age, with rosy cheeks and curly hair, and as full of fun as he could be. minnie herself was very fond of play. perhaps she played too hard, for she did not look hearty and rosy like frank, but was slight and quick as a humming-bird, and fluttered about so from one thing to another, that it was more than her mother could do to keep her always in sight. one minute she'd be seated quietly on the door-step, looking at the pictures in a book; the next she was away, and you only caught sight of her curls going round the corner of the house. or, perhaps, after you had looked for minnie in the garden, she would start up with her laughing eyes from behind your very chair, and the next instant she was fluttering along the top of the fence, standing on one foot, and, with her bright pink dress, looking more like a flower than a little girl. the iron strips of the fence were so far apart that minnie could easily peep through, and could even crowd her little hand between the squares, to stroke franky's curls, or pat his rosy cheeks. as soon as breakfast was over, every morning, both minnie and frank would run to the fence, and talk and play there for hours. but minnie was not satisfied with this; she wanted to swing on the boughs of her father's young fruit-trees, and, as i told you, would climb the fence, and skip along the rail upon one foot. again and again her mother warned her that she might fall and kill herself, or at least soil and tear her dress, and that it was rude for little girls to be climbing trees and fences. it was of no use. even while she was talking, minnie would clamber into some place so dangerous that her mother would have to run and take her down. chapter iv. minnie and the squirrel. one day, when minnie's mother had been telling her how wicked it was to be so disobedient, and how much trouble she gave every one that loved her, the little girl thought she never would climb another fence, but would begin now, and be good. so she seated herself on the door-step, and was quiet as many as two minutes. then a little brown sparrow came hopping, hopping along the top of the fence, and stopped a short way off, and chirped, as if he were saying, "you can't catch me!" "can't i?" said minnie, and another minute she was dancing along the rail. the sparrow flew away, and then minnie, remembering the promise which she had made to her mother, went back to her seat. she was quiet longer this time, for she began to think how hard it was to be good. then she remembered how the sparrow had flown away--away off alone up into the bright blue air, and could sing as loud as he chose, and tilt on the highest boughs of the trees, and nobody call him rude. and the sparrow didn't have to be washed and dressed in the morning, and to eat his breakfast at just such a time, and be careful to take his fork in his right hand, and not to spill his milk. o, how much better breakfasts the sparrow had! first, a drink of dew from the leaves about his nest; then, a sweet-brier blossom to give him an appetite; and then, wild raspberries and strawberries, as many as he wanted; and, afterwards, wild honey to sweeten his tongue, or smooth gum from the cherry-tree to clear his throat before the morning song! then for a merry chase through the woods, instead of going to school. "o, dear! o, dear!" said minnie, "why wasn't i made a sparrow?" just then she heard a chattering in the pine-tree over her head, and a squirrel tripped in sight. minnie happened to have some nuts in her pocket, so she quietly rolled one along the top of the fence, and squirrel came down for it. i think wild creatures know which children are their friends, and which their enemies. at all events, this squirrel did not feel afraid of minnie, but sat there nibbling at the nut she gave him, until he had eaten out all the meat. just then her mother came to the door with some ladies, who had been making her a call, and off darted squirrel, quicker than you can think. "now, where has he gone?" thought minnie; "down under the cool grass, i suppose, or far off into the pleasant woods, where he can have all the nuts he wants, and play hide-and-go-seek among the boughs. o, dear! i wish i had been a squirrel! i wonder if i couldn't run along the fence as quickly as he did just now!" her mother was talking so busily with her friends that she forgot to watch minnie, and off the little girl flew, along the rail, skipping and dancing, and twirling upon one foot. and now comes the wonderful part of my story. minnie thought she heard somebody scream, and then she looked round, and her mother was gone, and she was seated on the door-step all alone again, and squirrel, on the fence beside her, was eating his nut. "come, give us another!" he said, at last, throwing away the shell, and speaking with the queerest little squeaky, grumbling voice. "why, who taught you how to talk?" asked minnie, in surprise. "o, nobody. squirrels don't go to school. they couldn't keep us quiet on the benches, you see. it makes us ache to sit still!" and he ran round and round the rail of the fence, to rest himself. "pray, don't go away yet," called minnie; "i want to know if all squirrels talk, or what you did to learn." down the squirrel jumped into the grass, pulled the blades apart with his paws, and smelt of this weed and that, till at last he found what seemed to satisfy him, for he broke off a sprig, and went back to his seat on the fence. "minnie, how should you like to live with us?" he said. "we have good times, i tell you, out in the woods. we do nothing but chatter, and eat, and fly about, all day long. we haven't any master, and the whole world's our play-ground; the deep earth is our cellar; the sun is our lamp and stove." "but i should frighten the squirrels, i'm so large!" and minnie stood on tip-toe, to let him see what a great girl--as indeed she was, beside a squirrel! "the same weed that made me talk like a little girl, will make you grow small as a squirrel. do you dare to taste it?" and he tossed the green sprig into minnie's lap. "dare? yes, indeed! who's afraid?" she ate the leaves at a mouthful. chapter v. a squirrel-back ride. minnie had only half believed what the squirrel said, and was surprised and almost frightened when she felt herself growing smaller in every limb. did you ever drop a kid glove into boiling water? it will keep its former shape, but shrink together so as to be hardly large enough for a doll. thus minnie's whole form shrank, until she was no taller than squirrel himself, and not half so stout, and her hands were as tiny as his paws. "now we'll have plenty of fun," said squirrel; and they started together for the woods. but minnie walked so slowly, with her little feet, that her guide soon lost his patience. he would dart on out of sight, and come back for her, again and again; he would wait to eat nuts, and dig holes in the ground to bury some against winter-time; and still minnie, for all her hurrying, lagged behind. at last squirrel said, "this will never do; seat yourself on my back, and i'll carry you faster than any steam-car that ever you saw. here we go!" it was a pretty sight--the little rider and her frisky steed, bounding so gracefully over the road. they had not gone far, however, when minnie called, "o, squirrel, pray, pray stop!" "what's the trouble now?" "you go so fast it takes away my breath, and the underbrush all but scratches my eyes out; and the grass is full of bugs and ugly caterpillars, that stretch their cold claws to catch at me as i go past." "is that all?" he darted by a post, along the fence-rails, and up the trunk of a tree, and into the leafy boughs. but now it was the squirrel's turn to complain. "don't pull at my ears so hard! why, my eyes are half out of my head! it is bad enough to carry such a load!" "but, dear squirrel, i shall tumble off! here we are, away up in the air, higher than any house, and you skip and leap, and scramble so, it frightens me out of my wits." "jump off a minute, then; i know a better way to carry you." no sooner had minnie obeyed, than he was out of sight. with one spring, he had leaped to the bough of a taller tree;--and now would he ever come back? it made her dizzy to look down. it seemed further than ever to the ground, now, she had grown so small. and the insects that crept and flew around her looked so large! a great mosquito came buzzing about with his poisoned bill, and then a hard-backed beetle trolled past, and two or three fat ants. and a bird alighted on the bough, and began to sing. minnie drew down a broad leaf to hide her face, for she felt afraid that the bird would think her some kind of bug, and eat her up. perhaps he meant to do so, for he kept hopping nearer and nearer as he sang. "o, how i wish i were at home!" thought minnie. "perhaps my mother is looking for me now; and franky has been standing ever so long at the fence, with the half of his cake that he promised to save for me. how could that old squirrel be so wicked as to leave me here alone?" still the bird hopped nearer, and eyed her as he sang, and looked as if his mouth were watering for a taste. "i shall be killed and eaten up by ants and worms if i fall to the ground," thought minnie; "or, even if i reached it alive, i could never, never find the way home, with these small, slow feet. let the robin eat me, then." but now came a rustling amongst the leaves, and a chirping, chattering sound, and, lo! her friend the squirrel frisked into sight. he seemed to be quarrelling with the bird, for she half spread her wings, and stretched her beak as if she could bite him; and squirrel chattered and chuckled at her, and his bright brown eyes flashed with anger, till the robin flew away. "a moment later, minnie, and you would have been changed into a song. that saucy fellow meant to eat you for his luncheon," said squirrel. "now, don't complain that i went away; if you do, i shall go again. we never allow any grumbling out here in the woods." "yet they allow quarrelling, and murder, and mischief of many kinds, i see," thought minnie; "but as i've come so far, i will not go home without learning how birds and squirrels live." chapter vi. living in a tree. the squirrel now tucked his little friend under his chin, as if she were a nut, and off they went together, fast as any bird could fly. minnie soon found there was no use in urging squirrel to go in a straight line, and pick out the smoothest paths: it was not his way. he made her dizzy, often, by running along the under side of the boughs, or twirling round them in his frisky way; and, in passing from tree to tree, whichever branches were farthest apart, they were the ones he chose for a leap. if he heard with his quick ears any sound that frightened him, down squirrel darted into some hollow trunk, that was full of ants and rotten wood, and wiry snails; but minnie found he was growing very tired, and was all in a perspiration with carrying such a burden; so she did not complain. yet, when, in passing, her curly hair caught on the rough bark, and had many a pull, and her cheeks became bruised with brushing against the leaves, and she shook black ants and beetles out of her dress, minnie more than once wished herself home again. at last, with a chuckle of delight, squirrel darted up the trunk of a beautiful elm, and seated minnie where the great boughs parted into something like an arm-chair; while he went to find his mate. this, then, was her new home! tired and hungry as she was, the little girl looked about her with pleasure--it was such a lovely place. on one side were sunny fields; on the other, stretched the silent, shady wood, with its beds of moss, and curtains of vine, and clumps of wild-flowers. closer about her, fanning her warm cheeks, were the green leaves of the elm--more thousands of them than she could think of counting, and all so fresh, and creased, and pointed so prettily. "many a game of hide-and-seek i'll have here!" she thought. but now squirrel returned with his wife, who shook hands with her little guest very politely, and begged her to feel quite at home. madam squirrel was not so handsome as her husband, but was such a kind, motherly person, that you would not notice her looks. she had brought some dry moss from her nest, and with this made a soft bed for minnie to rest upon while she prepared dinner. the good soul even wove the twigs together into a leafy bower above her head, and called one of her young ones to stand near and keep the flies away, so that minnie might have a nap. the young squirrel, however, was less thoughtful than his mamma. he had so many questions to ask, and so much news to tell, that sleep was out of the question. and minnie found that the wonderful herb had not only made her grow small as squirrels, but at the same time had taught her to understand their language. and not this alone; by listening carefully, at first, she could soon make out what all the creatures around her were saying--the bees, and birds; and grasshoppers, and wasps, and mice. even the leaves she saw talked to each other all day long; the wind had only to come, and make them a call, and start a subject or two--then there was whispering enough! and the grass underneath whispered back, and perfumed wild-flowers talked with the grass, and the river talked to the flowers, or, when they would not listen, talked to its own still pebbles. the sun, if he did not speak, smiled such a broad, warm smile, that any one could guess it meant, "i know you, and love you, friends!" and at night the silent moonshine stole into the wood, and kissed the leaves till they smiled with happiness, and kissed the flowers till the air was full of perfumes they breathed back to her, and kissed the brook till all its little wavelets sparkled and laughed together for joy. meantime the stars were winking at each other, to think they had caught the cold moon making love! chapter vii. master squirrel. no sooner had young master squirrel taken up his stand by minnie's couch, than he began to tell how fortunate she was in having such friends. "yes," minnie replied, "i was thinking of them this very minute, and wishing i could send word to my dear mother that i was safe. poor franky must be tired of waiting for me by this time; there's no one else to play with him. and then, if you could only see our baby; she's so sweet and cunning!" "nonsense!" said master squirrel; "she is not half so cunning as you are, now. i was speaking of your new friends, my father and mother." "well, what about them?" "o, we belong to such a fine family, and are so much respected here in the woods, and my father is so rich!" minnie laughed. "who ever heard of a rich squirrel? where do you keep your money? are there any banks in the woods?" "banks enough, but they bear nothing except grass and violets. we are not so foolish as to put our wealth into pieces of white and yellow stone. my father may not have gold, but he has more nuts and acorns hidden away than any other squirrel in creation. as for the silly birds, they never save anything, and the worms and beetles live from hand to mouth." "what happens to the frogs and flies?" "o, they creep into a hole, when winter comes, and freeze, like stupid flowers, till the spring sun is ready to thaw them out again. you see, we squirrels are the only wise and prudent creatures. and to think that, among all squirrels, you should have become acquainted with the richest one--you are very lucky!" "if all your father's nuts were brought together and measured," said minnie, "how many bushels would there be?" "what do i know about bushels? he has at least as many as would make a wagon-load!" master squirrel said this with a great air, but minnie only laughed. "my father does not pretend to be rich, but he gives away more than a wagon-load of nuts every year; besides keeping all we want for ourselves." dear children, as minnie looked upon the squirrel's nuts, that made him feel so important, just so god's angels look upon _our_ treasures. money, fine horses and carriages, are to them no reason for being proud. they smile at our gains and savings, which seem foolish toys to them. the angels have better wealth. the squirrel was silent, and so ashamed that minnie said, to comfort him: "i should not mind never seeing a nut, if i were as bright and spry as your father; and, whether she were rich or poor, i know any one as kind and generous as your mother would always be respected." "poh! it is easy enough to be kind. i've seen one ant help another home with his dinner; i've seen a ground-sparrow, when her neighbor was shot, feed the hungry young ones left in the nest; but that's nothing--that doesn't give one a place in the best society!" "i don't believe the little orphan-birds waited to ask if their friend belonged to the aristocracy. but, master squirrel, what do you call society?" "i will show you, to-morrow. i heard my mother say that she should give a grand party in honor of your coming. though it will be like my parents (who are very condescending) to ask some of the common people, you may expect to see along with them all the aristocracy of the woods." now the mother-squirrel came with minnie's dinner; and, sending her talkative son away to give invitations for the party, busied herself with spreading out the tempting meal. of course there were nut-meats in plenty; walnuts on one leaf, chestnuts on another, and ground-nuts and grains of wheat on a third. then there was a bit of honey-comb, and a ripe red strawberry that squirrel had run a mile to pick on the mountain-top; and there were some slices of what minnie thought must be squirrels' tongues, they were so small and tender; she ate them with a great relish. then squirrel brought, in a nut-shell, a drink of fresh water from the brook; and, filling her shell again, dropping in a sweet-brier leaf or two to perfume it, she bathed minnie's forehead till the tired little traveller went fast asleep. chapter viii. night. upon awaking, minnie was surprised to find all dark about her. the good old squirrel had tucked the moss of her couch together so nicely that she was warm and comfortable; but, on reaching out a hand, she felt the leaves wet with dew. then a wind stirred the branches, and far up in the sky she saw the twinkling stars, and knew that it was night. night, and the little girl was alone there out of doors! no mother in the next room listening to see if her children breathed sweetly, and all was well; no sister allie to nestle close beside her, now; but the great lonely sky above her, and the creaking elm-bough for her cradle. and how high this cradle lifted her into the air! she hardly knew which was farthest off, the ground or the sky. it was all so strange that minnie thought she must be dreaming. she stretched her hands out in the starlight; they were small as squirrels' paws,--ten times smaller than even baby allie's dimpled hands,--small as those of her smallest doll. who ever heard of such hands for a little girl? yes, she felt sure it was a dream; but, turning to sleep, she was aroused by a loud snoring. could a man be hidden up here among the boughs? and suppose he should catch her alive, and shut her up in a cage, to be advertised, and talked about, and pointed at with canes and parasols in barnum's museum? but now the snores seemed changing to sounds more like the purring of a cat. were not tigers a kind of cat? suppose this were a tiger, ready to spring down and seize her in his great paws, as a cat might seize a mouse! no; there came next a loud, rough laugh, startling to hear in the silence; and then a great flutter, and a scratching sound, and something alighted on the bough above her--something heavy, for the bough bent till its leaves were crushed upon her face. as soon as minnie could push the leaves apart she looked up, and saw to her dismay two great round eyes staring full at her! she covered her own eyes, and in her terror would have fallen from the tree, had not her dress been caught among the leaves. "what's that? what's that?" a gruff voice called. then minnie remembered what she had heard her mother, and even the little squirrels, say, that it is foolish to fear anything; so, as loudly as she could with her trembling voice, the little woman shouted: "how do you do, sir? it's a fine evening, all but the cold!" and, venturing to look once more, she saw what a curious animal she had addressed; with the eyes of a man, he had the face of a cat, and the bill and body of a bird. "who's here? who are you?" was his only answer. "i am a traveller, sir. i have come from my home in the village, to make my friends, the squirrels, a visit; perhaps i shall have the pleasure of meeting you at their house." "not so fast! i'm an owl, i'd have you know, and do not keep company with chattering squirrels. if you wish to see me you must come to my own home." "and where is that?" "in the hollow around on the other side of the elm. we owls are satisfied to sit thinking over our wisdom, and do not go scrambling about like squirrels, and other simple creatures." "how did you happen out to-night?" "o, every evening i come up on this branch to take the air, and study astronomy." "astronomy?--what's that?" "it is counting the stars, and telling how they move, and watching when they fall. i expect to catch one, some day." "what shall you do then?" "hide it in my nest, to be sure, until i can plant the seeds, and raise another crop." "hide a star in an owl's nest! why, the stars are worlds," laughed minnie. "o, that is what ignorant people say. this, that you see above your head, is a huge tree with dark leaves, and hung all over with golden oranges. when the stars seem to move, it is only the boughs that are waving; when the stars seem to fall, it is ripe fruit that drops to the earth. let me catch one, and you'll see what a fine orange-bush i'll grow from the seed!" "i'd sooner fly out, in the pleasant morning sunshine, and pick up strawberries, blueberries, checkerberries, all the nice things that grow in the wood," said minnie; "but, if you can't be happy without the stars,--" "i never can!" exclaimed the owl. "then i would fly up where they grow, and pick them myself from the boughs;--not sit in a dark hole, and wait for them to fall." but the owl--who thought no one's opinion worth much, except his own--could not agree with her, and flew away. then minnie, tired of talking so long, fell asleep once more, hoping, with all her heart, that she should awake in her little room at home, with allie's rosy cheek pressed close to hers, and her mother stooping to give them both her morning kiss. chapter ix. the new home. cool air and pleasant music were about her, when minnie awoke the next day, but no home. she was wrapped in a bundle of moss, on the elm-bough, still. the bright morning sunshine lay over the leaves, fragrant odors came stealing out from the wood, and wreaths of beautiful white mist floated above the brook, and, slowly rising, reached, at last, and melted in with those other white clouds far up in the sky. yet the lower end of the mist-wreath rested still upon the brook, so that it seemed like a long pearly pathway, joining the earth and heaven. many birds had their nests in the elm, and they were feeding and singing to their young; or, floating up in the sky, still kept a close watch over their little homes among the leaves. minnie found she had plenty of neighbors. the tree was like a town, filled with people of all colors, and sizes, and occupations. of course, these were only birds or insects; but minnie had grown so small that they looked monstrous to her. the birds were as large as herself, you remember. little lady-bugs seemed as big as a rabbit does to us, and fire-flies were great street-lanterns; butterflies' wings were like window-curtains; bees were like robins; and squirrels, as large as newfoundland dogs! as her friends did not come to bid her good-morning, the little girl thought she would go in search of them. she felt afraid to move, at first, but found soon that the bough was as wide for her small feet as a good road would be for larger ones; so, steadying herself now and then by help of a twig or leaf, she wandered on. sliding carefully down the slope of a bough, she found herself, at length, close by the entrance of the squirrel nest. her friend, the young squirrel, was just sweeping the door-way with his bushy tail; but, when he took minnie in to see his brothers and sisters, she did not find their home a very orderly place. she could not step without treading on empty nut-shells, bits of moss, or broken sticks; then the place was dark, and did not have a clean, sweet smell, like her mother's parlor. in one corner lay a heap of young squirrels, some so small you could put them into a nut-shell--others larger, and larger still. the nest was so cold and damp that the poor little things had crept together to keep warm. master squirrel said, by way of excuse, that his mother was so busy, preparing for the party, she had not been able to set her house in order this morning; but minnie never afterwards happened to go there when it was in better order than now. "where is your mother?" she asked. "in the woods, at some of our other houses; for we squirrels don't live always in one place. she is gathering nuts and all kinds of goodies for our supper, and will scold me well if i have not the table set when she comes home." "o, let me help you!" squirrel was glad to accept her offer, and they went to work in earnest. first, minnie insisted upon bringing all the young ones out into the sun, when they stretched out their little heads and paws to receive the pleasant warmth, while minnie returned to see if anything could be done with their disorderly home. she sent squirrel into the woods for some pine leaves, and of these made a broom as large as she could handle. then she swept, and dusted, and brushed black cobwebs down, and wiped the mouldy walls, and put fresh leaves in place of the musty moss on which the children had laid. by this time the old squirrel had come back from the woods again; and told what a beautiful place his wife had found for their feast, and how glad she would be of minnie's help. he limped a little, and said his back ached still from carrying such a load the day before; but, as there was no other way for the little woman to reach the ground, she might go with him, only be sure not to pull his ears! no sooner said than done. down the trunk of the tall tree they went with a leap or two, and along the stone walls, over bushes, through hollows, further and further into the wood, till they came to a lovely spot. chapter x. in the woods. a number of trees stood so closely together that they seemed like a solid wood; but, when the squirrel had made a way for minnie to pass under the heavy boughs, she found inside a circle, covered only with fine soft grass and moss, a few wild flowers nodding across it, and the leaves, with their low, pleasant rustle, closing around it like a wall. "now," said the old squirrels, who were too wise to be proud and boastful like their son, "now, minnie, you know better than we what is proper, and you must tell us how everything shall be arranged." nothing could please miss minnie better than this. her mother had not even allowed her to go into the supper-room before company came; and here she was to order all things, and be herself the little mistress of the feast! they decided to have their party in the afternoon, because at that time the sunshine always slanted so pleasantly through the wood. if they waited till evening, the dew would begin to rise, and there was no depending on the moon for light; and their children, besides, would be needing them at home. first, minnie said, they must have a more convenient entrance to the supper-room. on one side stood a large azalea, or wild honeysuckle, in full flower, and near it a sweet-brier; between these were some whortleberry bushes, around the roots of which last minnie made the squirrels burrow till she could drag them away. then, smoothing the broken earth, she covered it with sods of fresh moss, while overhead the sweet-brier and azalia met in a beautiful archway of fragrant leaves and flowers. and it was so much prettier to have flowers growing in the ground than if they had been cut and brought from some green-house! both minnie and the squirrels were delighted with their dining-hall. next they spread shining oak-leaves for a table-cloth, which was better so than if it had all been in one piece, because now, wherever a tuft of violets grew, or any of the slight starry flowers that dotted over the grass, they could remain there, and save the trouble of arranging vases. then came a great variety of food,--nuts, honey, grain and berries, apple and quince seeds, bits of gum, and strips of fragrant bark. minnie was shocked when she saw among the game a dish of dead ants, and one of frogs' feet, and another of red spiders; but the squirrel said she must have something to suit all tastes, and the birds would be disappointed if they had not animal food. then she begged minnie to slice some cold meat for her, and brought a big black beetle to be shaved up like dried beef, and an angle-worm to be cut in slices for tongue. "o, dear!" exclaimed minnie, as the little round slices of this last fell into the plate, "can this be what i mistook for tongue, and relished so heartily last night?" "very likely," squirrel answered; "it is one of the tenderest meats we have." minnie resolved to eat no more dainties in the wood, until she had first found out their names; but she had not time to grieve much over her mistake, for the father-squirrel came to tell that he had promised his oldest children a race in the woods, and invited her to make one of the party. she was glad to take lessons in running of such a quick little body as he; and, while his young ones frisked and bounded, and chased each other, he was very patient in teaching her all his arts. before many such lessons, minnie could balance herself on the most uneven and unsteady place; could climb slippery boughs, skip without stopping over the crookedest places, and even leap from branch to branch, so nimbly that squirrel was proud of his pupil. he would not let her go very far that day, because she must be fresh for the afternoon, when his guests would come. chapter xi. the squirrel's party. in due time the company arrived, and all were in such good spirits, and so polite, that minnie thought she had never known a more charming party. on each side of herself sat the birds; a blue-bird and yellow-bird first, then a thrush and an oriole, then--cunning little creatures!--a wren and an indigo-bird. the robins and bobolinks were not invited, because they were such gluttons. the crows could not come, because they were so quarrelsome, and the cherry-birds were too great thieves. then came a whole row of squirrels, that sat with their bushy tails up in the air, and paws folded quietly, notwithstanding the nuts before them, while they made themselves agreeable to the meek mice and moles, that were all a-tremble, not often finding themselves in such grand company. one large gray squirrel came in his rough hunting-coat; but he talked so loud and boastfully, and seemed to look down upon all the others with such contempt, they were not sorry when he said, at last, that he had promised to take a walk with his distinguished friend the rabbit, and must therefore go home. several toads were invited, and minnie had even taken pains to roll some round stones into the room for their seats. they came, and were chatting gayly, when their eyes, that wandered over the delicious feast, fell upon the dish of frogs' feet, and home they hopped at once, offended. it was a great mistake, on the squirrel's part, to bring such guests and such a dish together; for who could be expected to relish seeing his cousin chopped up into souse? the butterflies came, but declined taking seats at the table, as they never ate anything. they fluttered above, with their beautiful velvet wings, and clung to the flowers, bending them down with their weight; and, when minnie observed how wistfully the birds were eying them, she thought perhaps the butterflies had a better reason than they gave for keeping at a distance. after eating all they wanted, squirrel proposed that his guests should go to the brook for a drink. it was not far, and minnie had swept the path nicely with her broom, and spread new moss wherever the ground was bare; so they seemed to be walking on a strip of green velvet carpeting, as, two by two, they started for the water-side. some little green, graceful snakes followed on from curiosity, while over the heads of the party fluttered all the butterflies; and a rabbit, chancing to see them, very politely asked squirrel if he might join the guests. meantime the toads, that had crept into a corner to mutter about their insult, hopped back to the table, and, along with a swarm of flies and ants, and greedy robins, crows, and bobolinks, soon finished all that the company had left. chapter xii. by the river. a yellow-bird was the companion of minnie's walk, and a pleasant little man he was, with his gayly-spotted wings, his graceful manners, and musical voice. the oriole was handsomer, and had a sweeter song; but he was proud, and spoke in a sharp, short way, that was not agreeable. minnie said to herself, "i can listen to oriole while he sings at the top of the tall elm; but for my friend i will choose some one with gentler behavior, if he hasn't so loud a song." do you think minnie was wise? yellow-bird was equally pleased with his companion, and very ready to converse. he told her that he had often wished to become acquainted with some of his neighbors in the village, but dare not trust them. "why?" minnie asked. "o, one of my brothers, after eating the plant that makes us wise, heard a little girl begging him to come and live with her. she promised a beautiful cage in the summer-house, and plants to eat and drink." "and he went?" "yes; he was so unwise. before the end of a week the little girl had forgotten to feed him, and he lay dead in the bottom of his cage." "yet that was an accident; the little girl was sorry, i am sure." "her sorrow did not bring him to life again; and i could tell sadder stories--o, too sad stories for to-day!" here yellow-bird stopped talking, and breathed forth a low, mournful song. the squirrel, hearing him, turned quickly: "this will never do! why, friend, we're going to a feast, and not a funeral; pray give us some gladder music." "excuse me, i never can sing so soon after eating," said yellow-bird, who was not willing to leave his new friend. as for minnie, she had never stood so near a bird before in her life; and could not be satisfied with looking into yellow-bird's round eyes, and stroking the soft feathers on his neck. she had a hundred questions to ask; and he answered so graciously that she began to think she would rather live with those gentle creatures, the birds, than with her kind, but wild and frisky friends, the squirrels. you may remember it was minnie's wish at first to live like a bird, on that morning--how long ago it seemed to her now!--when she had sat on her father's door-step, and watched a sparrow soar into the sky, and sing. they had not time for many words before reaching the water, which in one place spread to a little pond beneath the trees, and reflected the leafy branches on every side, and the sky, with its pearl-white clouds, and the sunshine that lay across it like a path of gold. an aged birch-tree, uprooted by the wind, had fallen into this pond. its large and handsome boughs were still alive; and here flew oriole at once, singing as he alighted, and swung on the tip of a branch. the other birds followed through the air, except minnie's friend, who walked quietly on with her. the squirrels bounded in a trice across the broad, white trunk of the tree. the mice and the moles followed them, and the rabbit was not far behind. the butterflies chose to hover above the sunny water in a flock. then squirrel made a speech, thanking his guests for the honor they had done him in spending so much time at his poor feast. he was glad it had been in his power to make some return, by presenting to them so distinguished a guest. the rabbit took this compliment to himself; so he replied by assuring squirrel that the obligation was all on the part of his guests. in ending, he regretted that he had not chanced to meet earlier with such pleasant companions; the truth was, he had only an hour ago been able to rid himself of a gray squirrel, a rough, unmannerly fellow from the backwoods, whom he would have been ashamed to bring into such polite society. "ha!" said squirrel, forgetting his dignity as host, "the very chap that honored us with his presence a little while, and boasted about his mighty friend, the rabbit." rabbit folded his ears together very wisely at this, and replied: "a person who feels it necessary to boast of his friends, is never much in himself. now, _i_ always feel that i'm as good as any of my acquaintance." "i wonder which is worse vanity," thought minnie, "to boast of one's friends or one's self!" but here yellow-bird hopped upon a spray, and sang a delightful little song in honor of their fair guest, whom he compared to a flower, a little cloud, a soft willow-bud of the spring-time, a white strawberry, and many other things in which birds delight. the company were so pleased that they begged to hear the song again,--all except rabbit, who, finding his mistake at last, hopped further in among the leaves, and hid himself, feeling very much ashamed. then yellow-bird, instead of repeating his first song, sang another, which was sweeter still. it told how full the world might be of love and happiness, how many such good times as this all creatures might have, if they would but be gentle and kind, willing to please, and ready to forgive. as the last note died away, oriole, impatient to show his skill, remarked that yellow-bird's song was too much like a sermon; and, without waiting for invitation, he then gave what seemed to him a better one. and it was enchanting music. o, so clear, and wild, and joyous, that it made the other birds lift their wings, and long to fly! hearing a plunge in the water near, and a sigh of pleasure, minnie looked down between the branches, and saw a handsome green frog, that had come to listen to the music; and swarms of little fish, with rainbow-colors on their silver scales, all listening too. so the afternoon passed in speeches and music. the squirrels, who could not sing, told stories that made the company laugh right heartily. even minnie took her part in the entertainment, by relating how people in the village lived, how they ate, and drank, and slept, and why they did many things which had puzzled the birds and squirrels amazingly. all this was as interesting to her listeners as it would be for us to read robinson crusoe, or dr. kane's travels among the icebergs and esquimaux. repeating their thanks to squirrel, and each one politely urging minnie to visit him, the company now went home. yellow-bird insisted upon taking minnie on his wings, but soon found the little woman so heavy that he was satisfied to let her dance along by squirrel's side, and flew off to find his young. he had, too, a world to tell his mate about the merry feast, and the queer little lady in whose honor it was given. i am afraid all the birds and squirrels that were at the party kept their mates or their brothers and sisters awake that night, relating what they had seen and heard. even the mice talked about it in their cellars under ground; and oriole did not sleep a wink, he worked so hard composing a song to minnie's eyelashes. chapter xiii. the yellow-bird. at daybreak the next morning yellow-bird came with the indigo-bird and thrush, and awakened minnie with their charming songs. sunrise, you know, is the time birds always choose for serenades; and i am not sure they are wrong--everything is so fresh, and still, and dewy, then. she could hardly wait till the music was over before shaking away the moss in which she had slept, and going to bid her friends good-morning. skipping fearlessly along the boughs,--for she had not forgotten squirrel's lessons,--just as the birds were preparing to fly away, minnie surprised them with a sight of her merry face. they did not chat long, for minnie could see that her friends were impatient for their morning sail up in the fresh blue air. so she begged them to fly away, while she would go to the squirrel-nest and find if breakfast was ready. she met squirrel, who, though much fatigued, and sometimes obliged to put his tail before his mouth in order to hide his gapes, was as civil as ever, and bade her a pleasant good-morning. his wife did not happen to be in so amiable a mood. not only was she tired from all the work and anxiety of the day before, but minnie's sweeping and dusting, she said, had put everything out of order in her nest. besides this, the children had taken cold from staying out of doors so long, and the light of the sun had given them weak eyes. minnie was troubled, and offered her help in making things go right again. "no," mrs. squirrel replied, "i have had enough of such help, and now you can best assist me by keeping out of the way." this was very rude, and brought tears into minnie's eyes. it was bad enough, she thought, to be so far from home, but to be treated unkindly, and after she had worked so hard in hopes to please the squirrel, this was more than she could bear. running so far from the nest that she could not hear the angry voice within, minnie seated herself on the bough, and, all alone there, thought of her pleasant home, and the mother who was so ready to praise her when she did right, and just as ready to forgive her when she did wrong. she seemed to see franky looking through the fence, waiting, and wondering if she would never come. then she saw allie open her large eyes, and, peeping between the bars of her crib, look all about the room, and stretch her little hands forth for minnie, and no minnie there! even if she went back now, would they know her, shrunk as she was to a mere doll? before she could reach her father's door, wouldn't the boys in the street pick up such a curious little being, and put her in a cage, or sell her, perhaps, to be killed and stuffed for some museum? "o, i haven't any home, or friends in all the world!" she said, and, covering her face with her little hands, minnie sobbed as if her heart would break. "hallo, there! what's the matter?" shouted young master squirrel from the bough above. "it can't be you're crying because the old woman is cross? why, she'll be good as chestnuts by the time you see her again. here, catch these nuts! she made me crack them for your breakfast." minnie thanked the squirrel, but she could not eat. her heart was too heavy. she hoped that, when the birds came back, they would not find her, for she was too much grieved to talk, or even listen to music. she had hardly drawn the leaves about her, when she saw the indigo-bird, and then the thrush, making their way towards the elm. minnie held her breath, while they alighted and hopped from bough to bough, and turned their heads on one side to peer between the leaves, and sang little snatches of song, that she might hear and answer them. at last they flew away, and when oriole came, he had no better success. then came yellow-bird, with a fresh ripe strawberry in his mouth. he also looked in vain, until, just as he was lifting his wings to go, his quick ear caught a sigh, so low that only loving ears would have heard it, and he flew at once to minnie's feet. she still held the leaves fast, and yellow-bird was obliged to tear them with his beak before he could be certain that she was within. "poor little soul! what is the matter?" he said, when he saw her sad face, wet with tears. then minnie put her arms around yellow-bird's neck, and told all her troubles. he did not speak a word until she had finished, when he exclaimed, "you shall not live with the squirrels any longer. come to my own warm little nest on the other side of the elm. my mate will be glad to see you, and you shall have sunshine and music all day long. tell me, minnie, will you come?" he ended with a little strain of song, so sweet and pleading that minnie could have kissed him for it, only, you know, a bird's mouth is rather sharp to kiss. she pleased him better by promising to go that very hour to his nest. chapter xiv. in a bird's nest. yellow-bird's nest was all that he had promised. it was built on one of the outer boughs of the elm, deep enough among the leaves to be shady at noon, yet not so deep but in the cool of morning the sunshine could rest upon it. then the view was much finer than that from squirrel's side of the tree. minnie looked down upon fields of wild flowers all wet with dew, across at hills that rose grandly against the sky; and, better still, between the trees she caught a glimpse of the town, with its white spires and cottages. it was an important day with yellow-bird, for a whole brood of young ones were leaving his nest for the last time. he had taught them to sing and fly, had shown them where to find food, and given so much good advice, that now he did not feel afraid to trust them by themselves. he brought his children to see minnie before they left, made them sing a little song of welcome and farewell, and then watched with pleasure as they flew into the wood, and soon were lost amid its shady boughs. minnie asked if it did not make him sad to lose his treasures all at once. "o, no," he said; "if one of my chicks had been blind, or had grown up with a broken wing, and could not leave the nest, i well might grieve. now that all has gone well, i'm only too glad to see them fly away." "but suppose that, when out of your sight, they fall into trouble or mischief?" "they are never out of god's sight. cannot he take better care of them than a little bird like me? ah, minnie, it isn't best to fret! the smaller and weaker we are, the more care our heavenly father takes of us." yellow-bird's mate came now to see what her husband could be talking about, and invited minnie to take a nearer look at her nest, which she had been industriously cleaning and mending since her children went. it was a smooth, cool bed of horse-hair and moss, set prettily amidst the thick green leaves. slender roots and threads were woven across the outside, and what was minnie's delight to find among them a scrap of one of her mother's dresses, which yellow-bird said he had picked up beneath a window in the village, for it was so soft, and covered with such bright flowers, he knew it must please his mate! minnie felt that the nest would be dearer to her, and more like home than ever now. yet she knew it was not civil to leave her good friends, the squirrels, without a word of good-by; so, lighter-hearted than when she left it, she skipped back to their den on the other side of the tree. she found the old lady's temper very much improved, perhaps because she had her nest in what she called order again. minnie tumbled over nut-shells, tore her dress against thorny sticks, and, when she stretched her hand toward the wall, trying to rise, she felt cold mushrooms growing out of the crumbling wood. it was dark, too,--no prospect there,--and there was the old musty odor, which she remembered so well, instead of the sweet air and fresh green leaves above yellow-bird's nest; and there was the heap of sleepy young squirrels squeaking in a corner. "o, dear!" thought minnie, "how could i ever have wished to live in a place like this?" mrs. squirrel was polite once more, and kindly offered her some luncheon, but did not ask her to stay. and, though surprised, she did not seem grieved when the little lady told her that she had come to say farewell. not so squirrel himself, who was proud of minnie, and fond of her, and felt so badly at parting, that his lips trembled too much to bid her good-by, and he ran off into a hole in the ground to hide his tears. "dear squirrel! he has done the best he could for me," she thought; "and now, because he doesn't happen to have a pleasant home, i am about to leave him! i have a great mind to go back!" just then a nut-shell dropped on her head, and, looking up, she saw master squirrel, who laughed at her surprise. leaping a little nearer, he began: "so you've returned, miss runaway! my mother said it would be too good luck to lose you in a hurry. she was sure we should see you before the sun went down." "then your mother doesn't like me?" "o, yes! she says you're a cunning little body, and mean no harm; but, like all company, you make a great deal of trouble, and do no one any good, that she can see." "what does your father say to that?" "he takes your part; tells her he's ashamed that she is not more hospitable; and then they quarrel well, i tell you!" "there shall be no more trouble on my account," said minnie, with dignity. "i am going to live with my friends, the yellow-birds. i have bidden your father and mother good-by, and now good-by, squirrel; you have all been very kind to me." "no we haven't, minnie; and i have been rudest of all; and you, so good, to be satisfied with our poor home!" "dinner-time! plenty of checkerberry buds and juicy berries in the wood!" sang yellow-bird on a bough above. "come, minnie, come!" "good-by, squirrel! yellow-bird, here i am." "o, minnie!" was all the answer squirrel could make. she left him wiping his eyes on his hairy paws--left him, and skipped away with her new friend. chapter xv. minnie and the birds. for a little while minnie was very happy with the yellow-birds; they were gentle and loving as the days were long, and only disputed to know which should have the pleasure of doing most for their company. at home it was all sunshine and music, exactly as they had promised; and, when there was too much sun, they flew to the wood, where hundreds of other birds met also, and merrily passed the long, bright afternoons. it was like a party every day. instead of needing to set a table each time, there was the whole wood, with its flowers, berries, gums, and spicy buds, spread out for them to take their choice. the wine bubbled up freshly from their cellar, and spread into bright wells wreathed with flowers. no need of corkscrews and coolers; yet, the best wine in the world never tasted so good, nor left such clear heads, and such merry, thankful hearts, as this simple water--the only drink the birds asked at this woodland feast. minnie made friends among great and small, she was so sprightly, and ready to please, and so willing to be pleased herself. this last is a great secret in winning friends. if people find it hard to amuse us, they very soon grow tired of trying, and leave us to entertain ourselves. but minnie had a pleasant word and a merry answer for every one. she did not laugh at the oriole for his foolish pride, nor at the ant for her stinginess and silence, nor at the bee for making such a bustle, nor at the indigo-bird for her diffidence. she knew it was their way, and only took care not to imitate their faults herself. meantime she never was tired of admiring their better traits of character. let the oriole be proud as he would; she knew that hardly any one else could sing such lovely songs as he was always twittering. let the ant be ever so mean and dumb; who else had such an orderly house, and such a store of food? let the bee buzz; couldn't he turn the poorest weeds into delicious honey, and set it in waxen jars of his own making, yet so neat, and delicate, and well contrived, that any man or woman might be proud of them? let the indigo-bird be shy; once hidden among the leaves, wasn't she willing enough to trill forth the clearest, loudest, sweetest little songs? ah! in this great wide world there is no creature but has some precious gift for us, if we can only find it. the little bird is weak, but his voice can fill the whole sky with music. you may know some rough boy who seems wicked; but be sure there's a good spot in his heart, and, by treating him kindly, we may make that good spot larger. isn't it worth while to try? though yellow-bird, after giving many lessons, found he could not teach minnie to fly, he taught her so much that, by resting one hand on his neck, she could easily glide along with him through the air. in this way they fluttered from bough to bough in the wood, then took longer flights through sunny meadows, and at last ventured up among the clouds, where minnie had longed to go. up, up, they soared,--yellow-bird singing for joy,--till there was nothing around them except the bright blue air, and, close over their heads, rose the pearly morning clouds. many a time had the little girl sat on her father's door-step, and longed to be where she now found herself. many a summer morning she had watched these same clouds gather and wrap themselves together, till they looked like splendid palaces of pearl--pearly domes and spires dazzlingly bright in the sunshine, and porticos with pillars of twisted pearl; and, at little openings, she could look through vast halls, all paved with pearl, and curtained with silvery hangings. at sunset the roof of her beautiful palace had changed from pearl to silver, and all its spires were gilded; the silvery hangings changed to rose-color; the floor, instead of pearl, was paved with solid gold, and the pillars were made of shining amethyst. "o," minnie had thought, "if, instead of this little house, with its dull, iron fence, i could live in such a noble home as that, how proud and happy i should be!" then, as a man passed, with his ladder, to light the street-lamps, she wondered if hundreds of ladders tied together couldn't reach as far as the clouds. "how i would skip up the rounds," she thought, "and, when i had reached the highest, send my ladder tumbling back to earth! the ladder would break, so no one could follow me; and all day long i'd fly from hall to hall, or, through great winding staircases, find my way to the golden cupolas, where i could look down into the poor old dusty earth i had left." and now, without tying a hundred ladders together, here she was among the clouds. alas! the pearly halls, that from below had looked so beautiful, were damp and dismal vapors. it was chilly and lonesome up there, while, wonderful to tell! the earth seemed a warmer, sunnier, more cheerful place than she had ever known it. there was the pretty town, with its surrounding hills and woods, with its winding rivers, and green fields, and tranquil lakes. in all the sky there was nothing half so beautiful! chapter xvi. the squirrel's team. after the long sky-journey, minnie was glad to reach her home in the elm once more. she was weary, wet, cold, and disappointed. she longed for the blazing fire in her mother's room, and the warm, pleasant drink her mother could mix for her. she longed to hear frank's merry voice, and to see baby allie with her golden curls. there was no use in longing. even if yellow-bird should fly with her to the very window, they wouldn't know her. they would only laugh at the curious little creature she had grown, and hang her up in the cage with their canary-birds. so she would make the best of her home that was left, and not distress her kind friends by wearing a gloomy face. she was trying to smile, when a pleasant chirp told her that the yellow-bird's mate was near. she soon hopped into sight, and, welcoming minnie in her kind way, told that she had an invitation from no less a person than his majesty, the owl. the party was made especially for minnie; so she could not refuse, although it was to be held at midnight. yellow-bird would go with her. "and you, too?" minnie asked. "excuse me, dear, this time. i feel obliged to stay at home." "so do i, then." "ah, i will tell you a secret. i have in my nest some of the prettiest little eggs you ever saw. if i should leave them they might be chilled with the night-air; so never mind me, minnie, but go and have the pleasantest time you can." "to tell another secret, then," minnie answered, "my dress is not only worn to rags, but so soiled that i am ashamed of it, and cannot think of going into company. see what a plight!" and she held up the skirt that was torn into strips like ribbon. "is that all? i watched to-day while a cruel boy was shooting in the wood. he fired at a poor little humming-bird, and broke its wing. it fluttered down among the bushes, and lies there now, i suppose, for i took care to call the boy away." "how?" "o, we understand. i cried out as if he had also wounded me; and, when he began to search, went slyly round into another place, and cried again. so i led the boy on, till i felt pretty sure he could not find his game if he went back." "but why did you take so much pains?" "partly so that he should not carry the pretty little creature home, and send half the boys in town out here, next day, hunting humming-birds, and partly because i thought the feathers would make you such a warm, handsome cloak. fly with me, now, and we'll find it; for here comes my mate, to take his turn in staying with the nest." they quickly reached the bush, under which humming-bird lay dead; but how heavy he was! it was as much as ever minnie could do to lift him from the ground. while they stood over him, wondering what was next to be done, master squirrel frisked in sight, rolling before him a large, round turtle-shell. "stand out of the way!" he shouted. but minnie stood across his path, and, for fear of throwing her down, he stopped; and, leaning on his shell, not very good-naturedly asked what she wanted. "o, squirrel, do leave your play a little while, and help us!" she said. "we have this heavy bird to carry home, and skin, and make the skin into a cloak, while the daylight lasts; do be kind, now, and help us!" "it isn't my way to be kind; but i'll make a bargain with you." "well." "yellow-bird shall fix a harness out of straw, fasten you into my shell for a horse, and i will drive home with your load." "that's a good plan," said minnie, not waiting to think how squirrel had kept the best of the bargain for his own share. "what say you, yellow-bird?" "poor little woman! after such a long journey you are too tired to drag this great fellow home. i will do it myself." "then i will help you twist the ropes." to work they went, and soon had the harness finished. squirrel, meantime, selected a good long twig for a whip, laid the humming-bird across the shell, and leaped into his place. he could hardly wait for the harnessing to be ended; but minnie made him stay until he had promised only to snap his whip in the air, not use it on yellow-bird, and they darted on. chapter xvii. the moonlight dance. minnie tripped behind, watching the little team. she had grown so nimble that she could keep nearer than squirrel thought. when he supposed he was out of sight from her, he lifted his whip, and gave yellow-bird a smart stroke across his shoulders. but she knew how to punish him;--spreading her wings at once, she rose into the air, and made the deceitful squirrel roll out of his chariot. he was ashamed to see minnie after this, so limped away, whining that he had broken his paw, and would tell his mother. then yellow-bird sung one of her droll little songs, that were like twenty laughs shaken together, and, when minnie came, begged her to take the squirrel's place, and drive home. the little woman was too thoughtful of her kind friend for that. she went behind and pushed, while yellow-bird dragged the shell, and they soon had it safe beneath the elm. then they slipped off the humming-bird's skin in a trice, hung it a while on the sunny side of the elm to dry, and minnie's good friend pulled out from among the twigs of the nest that dear piece of her mother's dress, and gave it to her for a lining. you never saw a prettier and more fairy-like little garment than this when it was finished; the tiny feathers all lay together so evenly, and whenever the wearer moved they took such brilliant hues! now the cloak was red, now brown, now green and gold, and again it glittered with all these colors at once. minnie had always seemed like a bird, with her quick, light, flying ways, and more than ever she seemed one now, with her gay feather cloak, and the fluttering, sailing motions she had caught from yellow-bird. mrs. yellow-bird, having put the last stitch in minnie's cloak, fastened it about her neck, and looked at her guest with great satisfaction. then, at a chirp, her mate came, and readily consented to be minnie's escort; so away they flew together. the evening was mild, and clear moonlight filled the wood. owl had chosen a lovely green dell in which to meet his friends, and had fitted it up with taste, and no little pains. all among the bushes and lower boughs of the trees he had tied live fire-flies and bright green beetles. he had built for the dance a tent of bark, and had sanded the floor with a curious dust that is found in the wood countries, and is like pale coals of fire. the birds dared not step on this fiery carpet at first, for fear of singeing their feet; but owl assured them that it had no warmth. as for the fire-fly lanterns, it must be confessed that the birds' mouths watered in passing them, but they were too civil to eat up their host's decorations. there was an orchestra of crickets, and they played such merry tunes that the guests all danced and waltzed till they were tired, and then it was supper-time. alas! owl had not been so thoughtful as the squirrels, and had only furnished such food as he liked himself. you may judge the surprise and disgust of the company, when, to the music of the band, they were marched in front of a heap of dead mice! the owl began to eat at once, and begged his guests not to be diffident. not one of them tasted a morsel, however. some politely refused, some went home angry, and a few had the courage to own that they were not fond of mouse-flesh. thus owl's party ended, and, indeed, all his parties, for, the next time he sent out invitations, every bird in the wood respectfully declined. if we think of no one but ourselves, we shall soon be left to ourselves. chapter xviii. the little nurses. minnie almost fell asleep on her way back to the elm, and found it hard to keep up with yellow-bird, who flew on briskly as ever. her long morning journey, the labor and hurry of making her cloak, as well as the effort to bring the humming-bird home, and the party afterwards, the dancing and late hours, tired her so much--so much that she feared all the rest in the world would not make her strong again. and when the tree was reached, minnie's friends did not, as usual, offer her their nest. they must keep it now for the eggs. cold and weary as she was, the little girl must lie down among damp leaves, with no other bed than a mossy place which she found on the rough bark of the elm. in the morning she still felt tired, lame, and stiff, yet her spirits came back with the sunshine, and when she told yellow-bird she had not strength enough to fly away with him, he stayed and sung to her a while, and afterwards brought her delicious berries from the wood, all sweet and ripe, and cool with dew. with such an attentive friend to supply her wants, it was not very hard to sit quietly upon her couch of moss, so green and velvety, with sunshine all about her on the leaves, and the pleasant prospect below. you will remember that the tree was full of inhabitants, and our minnie had made friends with almost all of them. when well and active, she had never passed them without a pleasant word, or at least a nod of welcome; and, now that she was sick, they were most happy to sit and talk with her, or offer their assistance. they brought her presents, each in his kind. the bee came up from among the clover-blossoms, to place clear drops of honey on the leaf beside his little friend. the silent ant stopped a moment to tell the news, and presented a morsel of sugar which she had hoarded in her nest till it was brown with age. indigo-bird brought a berry, blue as his wings. some of the birds brought good fat angle-worms or snails, which would be dainty morsels to them. these minnie laid aside for her friend mr. yellow-bird, although she thanked the givers politely, as if what they brought were her own favorite food. this was not deceitful, because what minnie enjoyed was the thoughtful kindness of her friends, and not their gifts. the berries were sweet, to be sure, but their friendship was sweeter. master squirrel came among the rest. he and a spider of his acquaintance had made minnie a beautiful parasol, with the humming-bird's bill for a handle, and a wild rose for the top. the pink cup of this flower, turned downward as it was, cast such a glow upon minnie's pale face, that master squirrel thought he had never before seen her look so handsome. soon, tired of listening to his coarse compliments, the little girl asked what else it was that he kept so nicely covered in his hands. "o, that's my mother's offering!" he replied. "how the old woman would have scolded if i had forgotten to give it to you!" "pray, let me have it. how kind your mother always is!" "except when her nest is too clean, eh? well, she saw me working over the humming-bird's carcass, and thought, as the meat was fresh, perhaps you'd like a scrap cooked for your dinner." "cooked meat! o, i haven't tasted a morsel since i left my father's house!" said minnie, in delight. "where could your mother have found the fire, though?" "not far off the woods are burning,--took fire in the dry season, as they often do,--and there were plenty of coals; so madam cut off the humming-bird's wing, and broiled it--o, my!--till it smells so nice that it made my mouth water to bring it to you!" he lifted the cover, and there, on a green leaf, lay the dainty wing, all crisp and smoking now. minnie relished her dinner more than words can tell. chapter xix. mouse. before minnie was strong again, yellow-bird's eggs hatched, and both he and his mate were busy and anxious, all the time, with taking care of their nest full of little ones. she did not see her friends so often as formerly, and, when they came, their visits were hurried and short. and, one by one, her other acquaintances grew forgetful, for birds and insects don't have such good memories as we, you know. each was occupied with his own cares and amusements. perhaps the truth was that they had grown tired of minnie, as you grow tired, in time, of your prettiest playthings. she felt all these changes. she remembered sadly what master squirrel had said, that his mother thought company a great deal of trouble, and herself, though a cunning body, of no use to any one. what if yellow-bird and his mate should begin to feel the same? she determined not to stay and trouble them any longer, after they both had been so kind; but where in the great world could she go for a home? who would feed, and comfort, and love her? ah! how sadly she remembered the dear mother who had made it all her care to watch over and supply her children's wants! every creature in the wood had a home and friends, except herself! and yet none of these homes were so pleasant, none of these friends so sweet and loving, as the ones she had foolishly thrown away. "ah!" thought minnie, as in the dusky twilight she lay swinging on a lonely bough of the elm, "ah! if i could whisper loud enough for every little boy and girl on earth to hear, i'd say, 'be happy in your own home, with your own friends; for there are no others like them--none, none, none!'" though these sad feelings were weighing on the heart, the rocking of the bough and sighing of the evening wind among the leaves lulled minnie soon asleep. she awoke in a terrible storm. she was drenched with rain, which pelted like pebbles, in sharp, quick drops, beating the leaves, while the wind dashed the boughs together, and made minnie fear that, though clinging with all her strength to the branch, she must fall. and she did fall into the wet grass far below, and was stunned, perhaps, for she did not awake until morning. then the sun shone brightly once more, the elm above her glittered with sparkling drops, and the first sound which minnie heard was yellow-bird's song of joy that his little ones were safe after all the wind and rain. "he has forgotten me, or he would not be so glad!" she whispered to herself. then came the thought, "perhaps he is happier because i am swept away out of his sight!" and with this she began to cry. "what's the matter?" asked a little mouse, that was running about in the grass, picking up worms and flies which had perished in the rain. "what's the matter? have my proud cousins, the squirrels, been treating you badly again?" "no, they all do more for me than i can do for them; but, dear little mouse, i've stayed in the woods too long. every one is tired of me. couldn't you show me the way back to my mother's house?" "why, minnie, _i_ am not tired of you. pray, don't go home yet. come and make me a visit in my snug little hole, so quiet underground. no storms reach there. i shall not whisk you about as squirrel has done; nor take you long, weary journeys through the air, like yellow-bird. i'll bring you cheese, and meal, and melon-seeds, till you grow rosy as your little sister alice." "my sister! what can you know about her, pray?" "wasn't i at your house this morning? i have, not far from this very wood, a passage-way underground that leads into your mother's pantry. come to my nest, and you'll hear news from home." chapter xx. housekeeping. minnie gladly followed the mouse into his hole. to see some one who had been in her dear lost home, was almost as good as to feel her mother's gentle hand laid on her head once more. in the promised news she was disappointed! alas! the mouse disappointed her in many things. minnie had not lived with him long before she found that she had fallen into bad company. he was good-natured and hospitable in his way, but a sad thief, and his word could never be depended upon. the little girl even felt afraid of her own safety, when she saw what pleasure mouse took in betraying all who trusted in him. the first time she fell asleep, the mischievous fellow nibbled off what rags were left of her gown, to make a bed for his young. minnie feared that next he might pick out her eyes for their luncheon, and determined to leave him before it should be too late. but it seemed as if the sly mouse saw into her mind, for, as she was composing her farewell speech, he came running out in the grass where she had seated herself, and said, in his squeaking voice, "minnie, will you do me a great favor?" "i shall be glad to do anything in my power," was the reply. "well, you didn't seem satisfied with the news i brought from home, and so i have resolved to go and try if i cannot pick up some more." "i suppose you won't pick up any of my mother's cheese and pie-crust?" said minnie, laughing. "of course not; at least, not more than enough to pay for my trouble in going. and now, minnie dear, i want you to take care of my little ones while i'm gone,--to feed them, and see that they don't roll out of their nest." "that i will do very willingly." mouse scampered away, and minnie little thought how long it would be before she should see him again. the nest was narrower, deeper, and darker, than squirrel's, and quite as close and disorderly. it was hard for minnie to crowd herself through the entrance; but, once within, she found paths winding in every direction, some of them ending in little chambers. part of these rooms were store-houses of grain, cheese, and all manner of rubbish, which mouse must have stolen for the pleasure of stealing, minnie thought, it was so wholly useless. the other rooms had each its brood of little mice, of all sizes and ages, some almost as large as the mother, some not much larger than a fly. it took the whole afternoon to wander from one room to another, explaining where the mother had gone, comforting those that began to fret, feeding the hungry, quieting the quarrelsome. glad enough was minnie when she had tucked up the last brood in their bed of wool, and could creep out into the grass for a breath of air and a look at the pleasant sky. shaking the earth from her cloak of humming-bird feathers, and picking a handful of checkerberries, minnie looked about for a stone to sit upon while she ate her supper. she soon found one, smooth as any pebble in the brook. here she could eat at her leisure, while a band of crickets and katydids played to her, and all the beautiful stars twinkled over her head, and all the grass about her was strung with glistening drops of dew. "after all," she thought, "this is more to my taste than being shut up in my curtained bed at home. what's the use in stars and dew, if we never look at them? what use is there in the evening breeze, if we shut it out with our windows? it's a good thing to have our own way, and i may yet be glad that i left my father's house." chapter xxi. trouble for minnie. as minnie sat meditating, suddenly the grass about her seemed to move. the long blades bent this way and that, and shook their dew-drops over her. what could this mean? had the grass feet? could it draw its roots up out of the ground and walk? why, _she_ was moving! the grass behind lay bowed together in her pathway, and here she was, seated close under an evening primrose, which opened its yellow blossoms so far from the mouse-nest that she had only felt their fragrance when the wind blew. presently something like the head of a great snake was stretched out from under her seat. minnie sprang up at once, and, climbing into the primrose branches, wondered if she were awake or asleep, that such strange things should happen. then the snake's head disappeared, and a low voice spoke from under the stone, "why do you leave me? i live in a pleasanter place than the mouse, and am myself more honest and agreeable. will not the little woman make me a visit?" "why, what's your name, and where did you come from? and are you a stone, or something alive? and is that snake's head a part of you?" said minnie, half frightened, and half amused. "what you are so polite as to call a snake's head is my own, and what you call a stone is my shell, and i am a turtle, miss minnie," the voice answered, with dignity. "pray, don't be angry with me, turtle; i meant no harm. now the moonlight has come, i can see the beautiful golden stars on your back; and, now my fright is over, i remember what a pleasant ride you took me through the grass." "you shall have as many such rides as you want, if only you'll come and stay with me by the side of the brook." here was the very opportunity minnie had wished, to find a safer home; but she could not forget her promise to the mouse, and leave the little ones to suffer. when she told turtle this, he said that she was perfectly right, and, creeping back with his load to the entrance of the nest, and finding the mouse was still away, he left minnie, promising that by sunrise in the morning he would return for her. accustomed as she had long been to the shelter of the elm-leaves, the dampness rising from the ground made minnie sneeze so violently that the crickets stopped playing to listen. she was glad to go, at last, inside of the nest, and sleep in one of the close little rubbish-rooms. at daylight she was awakened by a small brown beetle running up and down her arm. rubbing her eyes, she asked, rather sharply, why he could not let her sleep in peace. "the turtle wants to know why you don't keep your promises. he has been waiting this half hour, and sends word that it is a shame for you to sleep away the beautiful morning hours." minnie sprang to her feet at once, and was following the beetle, when squeak, squeak! ho, hallo! wait a minute, minnie! came from every room she attempted to pass. she found that mouse had not kept her promise of coming home, and, sending a message to the turtle, she was obliged to wait and hear a hundred questions and complaints, and settle a hundred disputes between the quarrelsome young ones. one had pushed the other out of bed; one had trodden on the other's tail; one tickled the other so that he could not sleep; one snored so loud it made another nervous; one had eaten up the other's grain. as minnie crept about in this dark, disagreeable place, so full of angry voices, she remembered that lost home of hers, where all was peace and love. she remembered dear franky, with his rosy cheeks and curly hair,--the good, generous little fellow that he was; and baby alice, with her large brown eyes; and the kind parents who never went away and forgot _their_ little ones. then she rummaged the store-rooms for food; and, not finding enough to satisfy the greedy mice, crept out into the air to see if she could not pick up something for their breakfast. she saw no turtle. the grass was bent still with his foot-tracks, but he was gone. so minnie went busily to work picking off seeds and berries, and the honeyed end of clover-blossoms, till she had such a heap that it seemed to her she could never carry it all into the nest. then thinking, "perhaps, if i set the mice at work, it will stop their quarrelling," she called out several of the elder broods. chapter xxii. trouble still. the young mice seemed obedient to minnie until they had reached the entrance of the nest; but, at the first taste of fresh air, they began to frisk about, and do whatever they chose. first they attacked her heap of food, and ate all the choicest bits which she had saved for the little ones. then off they ran, this, that, and every way, minnie calling after them in vain. she went in search of the runaways, but they hid safely under the leaves and grass, or burrowed into the ground. tired and discouraged, the poor girl turned back to collect what food was left, and give it to the little ones. and still the old mouse did not come home. minnie wondered if she had gone on purpose to be rid of her family, and if she must herself have the care of bringing up this great brood of noisy, troublesome mice. why not let them starve? if they grew up, it would only be to cheat and steal, like their mother, and run away with people's meal and cheese. ah! but minnie had promised. and, besides, the old mouse had been kind in her way, and had offered minnie a home when other friends forsook her. no, she would not desert the little ones. all at once she remembered a trap that used to stand in her mother's pantry; suppose the mouse was caught in it! she would go this instant, and see. now the underground pathway was very, very narrow, and so close and warm that three times minnie gave up her attempt, and as many times went back; for, when she thought that the friend who had fed her might be starving, it was enough to drive away all other thoughts. still, not being a mouse, she could not breathe in that close cellar-way. her strength all left her. the little heart, that had beat so fast when she thought of going home, home, only fluttered faintly now. she began to feel that she could not even creep back to the mouse-nest; that this dark passage was to be her grave. but one step forward brought minnie into a good-sized room, and what was her surprise to find this the nest of the father-mouse! he didn't like the noise and trouble of children, he said, and so kept away from the sound of their voices. he hoped his mate was well, and was just on the point of going to see what had become of her. when minnie told her fears, he uttered a frightened squeak, and said he was sure she must be right, and that he was a poor, lonesome widower, and should never see his dear, dear wife again. minnie cheered him by telling that her mother's trap was not one of the cruel ones with teeth, but only a box with wires, in which his wife might live safely for several days. then she explained how with his teeth and paws he could open the door and set her free. away flew the mouse, first showing his friend a nearer and easier pathway out into the air. minnie now began to consider how displeased the mother-mouse would be, on returning, to find her children scattered in all directions. if she could but call them together, and see them safe in the nest once more, bid the old mice good-by, and ride off quietly herself on the turtle's back, how happy she would be! she climbed the tall evening primrose, and looked on every side, but not a sign of a mouse. she leaped into the grass again, and, with the stick of her parasol, stirred every tuft of clover and bunch of violet or plantain leaves. in vain. minnie had made up her mind that they were lost, drowned in the brook, or eaten by some bird of prey, when she caught sight of one, with his bright eyes and sharp little nose peeping up from under a toadstool. then she knew that all the rest must be near, and, jumping on top of the toadstool, she said, "you mischievous fellows, i dare say you are all laughing at me in your hiding-places; but hear this! your mother is dead, perhaps, and as sure as you stay out of your nest at night, some mischief will come to you. i shall waste no more time in this search." wasn't it ungrateful in the mice to disobey minnie, when she had taken so much trouble for their sakes? and yet i have known children whose parents took as much pains for their sake, and who were as thoughtless and disobedient as minnie's mice. chapter xxiii. free at last. when minnie returned to the nest, whom should she meet but mouse in the midst of her little ones? the mate was there also. he had come partly to help home his wife,--who had lamed her foot in the trap,--and partly to boast of his wonderful courage and ingenuity in setting her free. both were very profuse in their thanks to minnie; for the young mice had already told of her kindness and care. minnie interrupted their thanks to ask the news from home. this, mouse had half forgotten in her flight. she only remembered how, after the trap shut down upon her, the pantry-door had opened, and a lady came in. "tell me exactly how she looked," said minnie. "she wore a gown of pink muslin, and pink ribbons in her hair." "o, that was my own mother! how i wish i had been in your place!" "i wished so too. when she lifted her hand and took down a jar of sweetmeats, that stood close by the trap, i felt sure she'd see me, and have me killed. o, how i trembled! it was as much as ever i could do to keep from squeaking when i thought of my mate, and all the little ones." "was my mother alone?" "no; a little boy came with her, and watched while she took the sweetmeats out into a dish. before closing the jar, i saw her give him a taste of the delicious pine-apple." "how did you know it was pine-apple?" "o, after my mate had set me free, we waited to lap up a few drops that trickled down the side of the jar. we know the taste of good things! was that boy your brother?" "no; it was dear franky, my playfellow, who lives at the other side of the fence. didn't he say anything?" "he asked the lady if she supposed minnie was where she could have nice pine-apple for tea. i couldn't hear the answer, for they both left the pantry then." "my generous franky! he always thought more of others than himself." "don't cry, dear, and i'll call you my generous minnie. think! if you had not been so kind, all our little ones might have starved." "yes; and my own wife might have dried up into a skeleton in that dreadful trap!" said the father-mouse. "how glad we are that we have such a kind friend to live with us always!" alas, it was hard for minnie now to tell that she meant to leave their nest! but, hearing the slow steps of turtle brush through the grass above, she thanked the mice for their good-will, and hurried out into the sunshine, to meet her new and faithful friend. as for the mice, they were so taken by surprise, that at first they could only look after her, without saying a word. but, before she had reached the brook, minnie heard a squeaking and scrambling underground; and, from a little opening, which she had not seen before, up darted mouse and her mate, trembling with anger, and talking so noisily, both at once, that she could not make out what either said. meantime turtle, who had little respect for mice, kept on at his steady, slow pace, through the grass. as minnie was mounted on his back, the mice were obliged to travel also, in order that she might hear their complaints and reproaches. for they had forgotten all about gratitude, now, and could only grieve over the missing broods of young. as soon as minnie discovered this, she begged turtle to wait a moment, that she might tell her side of the tale; but on he jogged, and, when the mice would not be still, snapped at them so fiercely with his snaky head, that they both scampered home in fright. they had not grieved for naught. four of the truants had drowned themselves in attempting to cross the brook; two had been eaten by a crow; and the rest were snapped up at a mouthful, by a spaniel, that happened to run through the field. chapter xxiv. turtle. you remember minnie was a restless little soul; and will not be surprised to learn that she had not lived with the turtle long before his slow ways tired her. he was stubborn and disobliging, too. if he started for a place, she couldn't make him turn one inch aside; but on, on, on he crept at the same slow pace,--no matter whether minnie were wet, and half-frozen with rain, or parched with sunshine,--on, on, till he reached his goal. still he was always quiet and dignified, had no quarrels with his neighbors, and seemed to treat his little guest as well as he knew how. it is true he surprised her in disagreeable ways sometimes. if he saw a pool of deep mud by the road-side he would wallow through it, sadly soiling minnie's fine cloak of humming-bird feathers. she knew he was partial to mud, and would not have blamed him so much had this excursion been all; but, instead of going back to the grass, where she might wipe herself clean, he would mount some slanting log that rose out of the water, and stand there sunning himself for hours. one day, a gentleman, who was driving past in a chaise, saw minnie and the turtle perched thus on a log, and stopped to examine the curious object. turtle drew his head inside of his shell at once, and left poor minnie to her fate. now it happened that the traveller was a great naturalist, and especially fond of collecting turtles. he had hundreds of them, snapping at each other, and scrambling over each others' backs, in his yard at home. still he was always on the watch for a new specimen; and here was a famous one, he thought. springing from his chaise, the gentleman ran to the other side of the brook, and was walking cautiously toward them, when turtle thought it time to look out for his own safety. so, dropping from the log, he disappeared in the thick, muddy bottom of the brook. the naturalist went back, disappointed, to his chaise. minnie, in passing, caught at some iris-leaves, and clung to them. as soon as she could wipe the water from her mouth, she called out, "allow me to bid you good-by, mr. turtle. i think i can take as good care of myself as you've taken of me thus far, and henceforth i will save you the trouble." "what's that? i'm rather thick of hearing," said turtle, from under the mud. "good-by, that's all!" and, by the time he had reached the end of his log once more, minnie was floating down the brook on a pond-lily leaf, diving every now and then to cleanse herself from the mud which turtle had dragged her through. "why shouldn't i live by myself? where's the use in giving others so much trouble?" she said now. "why cannot i play with the flowers and butterflies, run races with the ripples, and bright little fishes, in the brook; or sleep on any bank of moss, or in any empty bird's nest that i can find? at least, let me try; and, if i grow hungry or lonesome, there are enough good people to take me in." chapter xxv. minnie's wings. now came the most beautiful and happiest part of minnie's wandering life. so nimble was she, and ready for sport, and so droll, and withal so gentle and ready to oblige, that she made friends on every side. wherever she went you'd be sure to find a flock of butterflies, or bees, or birds, about her. they taught her all the pretty sports which they had practised among themselves; once more she flew across the meadows with the birds, fed on the fresh, clear honey of the bee, and played hide-and-seek with butterflies. sometimes the butterflies lifted her far up into the air. how do you suppose they contrived to do it, with their slender wings, which even the wind could break? minnie told them that, in her father's house stood a statue, with wings on the wrists and feet. this was mercury, whom the greeks in old times worshipped as one of their many gods. now, she thought the butterflies might make a little mercury of her. no sooner had she said as much than a beautiful pair, spreading wings large enough for sails to her lily-leaf boat, floated through the sunshine to settle upon the little woman's shoulders. then followed smaller ones, with blue, white, and yellow wings; and, fastening themselves to her ankles and wrists, up, up, they all flew together! but the next day minnie found her little friends creeping about with their wings sadly sprained. so she would not often let them repeat this experiment. o, i should have to write a larger book than this to tell you what good times minnie had with the butterflies; into what pleasant places they were always leading her; how gentle and playful they were, and how their wings were perfumed with the flowers they had lived among. she loved to have them follow her when she walked, especially that little golden kind you have often seen in the meadows. some followed, some fluttered on before, as if she were a little queen, and they her body-guard. there were no angry voices now, no envious neighbors; no master squirrel came to repeat disagreeable stories. instead of that stifled squirrel-hole in the elm, she had the sweet air of heaven about her now. instead of that crowded yellow-bird's nest, where minnie had felt in the way, she had now the wide meadow, with room enough in its soft, green lining, for herself and all her friends. but, alas! minnie was the one, this time, to cause trouble and discontent. only to gratify her wilful temper, she did what she would have given half the world to undo afterwards. it was a little thing,--you would hardly call it wicked; and yet it grieved and drove away her gentle friends, and would have cost her own life, but for an accident. these _little things_ make half the mischief in the world. chapter xxvi. hide-and-seek. one afternoon, tired of playing in the hot sun, minnie thought she would creep under some shady cluster of leaves, and sleep. but the butterflies could never have play enough, and the hotter the sunshine, the better for them. so they did not understand that the little girl needed rest, and, thinking her weariness only make-believe, would not give her any peace. they ran across her hands, they tickled her cheeks with their feathery feelers, they pelted her with buttercups, and at last began to cover her over with leaves of the wild rose. so full of mischief were they, that one could no more sleep, while they were about, than if they'd been so many bees. at first minnie tried to be good-natured, and laugh at their pranks; but, warm and tired as she was, you cannot wonder that her patience didn't last. some children would have roughly driven the butterflies away--have pelted them with stones, perhaps, and broken their beautiful wings. but minnie could not forget how kind they had been; and besides, you know, they were not such little things to her as they seem to us; they were almost as large as herself. she only arose, and, turning her back, would not speak to them, or spoke in such a snappish manner that the butterflies were frightened, and flew away. left alone, she espied, near the wood, something that looked like a side-saddle, just large enough for a little body like herself. she sprang to see if there were a tiny horse to fit, and thought how quickly he should gallop off with her, so far that the butterflies could not follow--no, not if they wore their wings off! but the saddle proved only to be a flower, so much like a wadded leather cushion, that minnie took her seat upon it, and was swaying back and forth with its tall, stiff stem, when she noticed that it was surrounded by a row of leaves more curious, even, than the flower. each leaf was like a little pitcher, with such great ears that minnie wondered if it were not the very kind she had heard her mother talk about, when she was whispering secrets. there they stood, like the forty jars in which ali-baba caught the forty thieves, in the arabian nights. "here's a place to hide!" she had hardly said it, when the butterflies came in sight, and minnie slipped into the tallest pitcher, unseen by them, she thought. but no--they found her; and now was minnie's time to laugh. fold their wide wings together, crumple them as they might, not one of the butterflies could crowd himself through the narrow neck of the pitcher. they could only stand and look down wistfully at the roguish face within. "i'm glad to see you! shake hands!" said minnie, shaking their slender wrists till they begged her to be still. "ah! minnie, not so rough! come, now, don't be cross any longer. come out and play with us!" "don't you wish i would? don't you wish you could catch me?" was all the answer she made. "but we've found a bee that a bird killed, and we saved the honey-bag for you." in vain they urged. minnie was very stubborn. she laughed at the butterflies, and teased them, until they were offended, and, one by one, flew back to the brook. and, now that she had leisure to look about, the little girl found herself in an uncomfortable place. not only was the pitcher half full of water, but so narrow that she could hardly move, and lined with stiff hairs, that seemed like thorns to tiny hands like hers. she would not stay here. but how to escape was the question! she only climbed the sides to slip back again; her arms were scratched till they bled; her garments were heavy with the water in which they drabbled. night was coming down; she could hear the crickets sing; she caught glimpses of birds flying home to their nests; yet all were so noisy or so busy that they could not hear her voice. how she wished, now, that her rudeness had not driven the butterflies away! but it was too late for such wishes; they had gone. chapter xxvii. minnie in prison. minnie thought the night would never end. she watched the stars that moved so slowly overhead; she watched the moonlight slant into the wood, and the pale flowers fill with dew. she heard the night wind creep among the leaves; and her old friend the owl, and other wild creatures that hide by day, she heard prowling about in the dark. sometimes there would be a quick cry, or a patter of light little feet, or the dull hoot of the owl; and then all was still again, and minnie gazed once more to see how far the stars had moved. o, it was such a little way, and they had so far to go before the sun would shine again! at last she fell asleep from very weariness, and awoke to find a faint red light above the eastern hills. it was morning--morning! another hour would see the sun rise, and bring some friend, perhaps, to help her away from her prison. when some kind friend awakens you at sunrise on a summer morning, and, feeling drowsy, you long to turn and sleep again, and wish daylight would never come, you must suppose that you were in minnie's place, and see then if you do not find it easier to spring from your beds. because the sunshine comes to us so freely, we must not forget how precious and beautiful it is. suppose the darkness, instead of lasting for one night, should last whole months, as it does at the far north. what a damp, dismal world it would be! how we should grope from place to place, and, sitting in our houses by the flicker of poor lamps, how we should long for the sunshine--for the beaming, generous light and pleasant warmth that spread now over all the land! the birds began to rustle among the boughs, or, half asleep still, sing short dreamy songs upon their nests; but minnie could not make them hear her little voice, and had resolved to call no more, but drown or starve, if she must, when a humming-bird came wheeling and buzzing by. he was such a noisy fellow himself, that, like the rest, he might have passed on without noticing minnie's cry, but he paused to drink at the pitcher, where he knew that water was hid; and what was his surprise to find an old acquaintance there! minnie was always ready for a joke; so she popped up her head like the little men you have seen shut into boxes, that, when the cover is lifted, start up and frighten you. she knew very well that if humming-bird flew away at first, his curiosity would lead him back again. she laughed to see how quickly he flitted into the wood, and then how cautiously he came forth, and, from bough to bough and plant to plant, made his way to her side once more. then minnie's face grew serious, as she told her little friend how much she had suffered and feared through the long, long night, and begged that he would help her to escape. he was not half strong enough to lift her, though he tried till his bill ached with dragging at her tangled hair. and this work, if hard to him, was not, as you may judge, the most agreeable to minnie. she persuaded the humming-bird to leave her for a while, and see if he could not find help, or, at least, find something for her to eat. it happened that, in seeking food for minnie, the bird found something of which he was especially fond himself; so, after eating his fill, he went humming across the meadow, never thinking again of the friend he had promised to help. very impatiently the little girl expected him every moment, until an hour had passed, and still she waited, hungry and alone. then came a great flapping of wings overhead, and a rustling such as she had once heard when a hawk flew into her father's poultry-yard. he had eaten the white chicken that she called her own, and it was as large as she was now. suppose he should eat her! the rush of wings came nearer, and the bird, whatever his name might be, alighted close beside minnie, who ventured to peep over the edge of her pitcher, and beheld a curious, tall, awkward creature, such as she had never seen before in her life. she coughed to attract his attention, and he turned toward her a bill as long as her own arm was once, and began to stalk about on legs longer, even, than his bill, and that looked like a pair of stilts. chapter xxviii. narrow escapes. "it's a pleasant morning for a walk," minnie ventured to say. her visitor answered with a croak so rough that she couldn't tell whether he agreed with her or not. but, taking a long step, the stork came nearer, and looked directly down into minnie's prison, and upon the little, tired, mournful, frightened face. "pray, don't hurt me! i have lost my way, and fallen into this dreadful place." "why do you stay here, if it is not pleasant?" "o, i cannot climb out, i'm so small; and the sides are so slippery, and all these thorns so rough!" then, without waiting to be asked, the stork broke the leaf-stem, and, turning it upside down, shook minnie out into the grass. it was so good to stretch herself in the pleasant sunshine, that minnie folded her hands, and lay there quietly as if she was asleep, or dead. the stork travelled around her on his stilts, and minnie heard him say, "in all my flying, i never came across such an odd little creature before; it looks like a woman, yet isn't larger than a bird. its feathers are like a humming-bird's, and yet they are pretty well worn out. i wonder how it happens!" with this he began to poke and pull at her cloak; finally, off it came, and stork held it up in the sun for examination. then he eyed the little silk apron her mother had made, and twitched it by one corner, till minnie began to think he would eat her piece by piece. so, the first time he turned his head away, she sprang to her feet, and, without once looking behind, ran, leaped the fences and the fallen boughs, and, reaching her home by the brook-side, hid under the shadow of a stone. and high above her, she watched the stork beating the air with his heavy wings, and sailing on out of sight. after eating some savory roots, which the mouse had taught her how to find, and taking a berry or two for dessert, minnie jumped into the brook, which looked warm and tempting as it rippled through the sunshine. she could swim as swiftly as any fish, and was so very fond of the sport that she soon forgot her weariness. laughing and shouting, she started in chase of a swarm of little minnows, whose silvery sides shone like moonbeams when they darted across the brook. minnie kept gaining ground, and thought, at last, that she could lay her hand upon the minnows, crowded all together as they swam; but, lo! at the first touch, like so many bubbles of quicksilver, they scattered far and wide. some shot before her, some dodged behind her back, some hid their silly noses under stones and weeds, thinking, if only their eyes were out of sight, that nobody else could see them. of these last, minnie caught several; but they slipped through her fingers again before she could be certain that she had them there. she might as well have tried to hold one of the ripples of the brook. now that the butterflies had forsaken her, minnie found it lonely in the meadow, and spent most of her time by the stream. when it was low she would trip over the wet, rough stones in its bed so fast that the dragon-flies, with all their wings, could hardly keep pace with her. and, when the little stream was full to its brim, she would nestle inside of a water-lily, and float for hours, half asleep, watching the sunny ripples pass. in more restless moods, she would climb tall bulrushes, or swing among the long, ribbon-like iris leaves. there was no end to the ways she had of amusing herself. but one day, when she was swinging, a boy mistook her for a butterfly, and, springing among the iris-leaves, had almost caught her in his hat. another day, as she was floating in the brook, an angler came, and threw a pretty, gay-winged fly into the water. when minnie seized this, a sharp hook pierced her hand, and, the next thing she knew, she was lifted high in the air on the fisherman's line! in an instant she freed herself from the hook, and fell back into the water; but it was many days before the wound stopped smarting, and many more before it healed. still another time, minnie found the brook covered with mosquitoes; the fields were parched with the august sun; and the road, where all the birds had gone to chat with the butterflies, was hot and dusty. so the little girl nestled under some cool violet leaves. in the woods violets blossom all the year round, you know, not plentifully as in spring, but here and there you find a cluster in bloom. such an one minnie found, and, when she stretched herself in the grateful shade of its leaves, the sweet flowers looked down at her like the blue eyes of her mother, and the wind, that was whispering through the long, fine grass, seemed her dear lullaby. but, as she leaned her head on the moss at the violet roots, and thought of home, there came a sudden jar, and the next moment she was rolling in a heap of dusty earth, and vainly striving to free herself, as you have seen ants when their nest was broken open. a man was digging up the sod of violets to plant on the grave of his little child that was dead. minnie feared that, if he detected her, he would stick her on a pin, as some new kind of butterfly, for his cabinet. she hardly dared breathe until his work was finished, and the man had gone away. chapter xxix. the little seamstress. all dusty and ragged, minnie stood wondering whither she should turn next, and what would become of her. no place seemed safe, no friends stood by her long; her garments were torn to fringes, and the hot sun pelted down its rays upon her so that she was faint. she had barely strength to climb a tall pine-tree near, in whose boughs she had often swung through the long afternoons. but that was in happier days. the sighing of the wind among the branches, which used to be such pleasant music, was so mournful now that it filled minnie's eyes with tears. it seemed as if a hundred soft, sad voices were calling, just as minnie's heart called, for her mother to come and fold her in her own dear arms once more, and comfort her, and forgive her, and take her home, never, never to wander or be disobedient again. "halloa!" said a voice. "what's the matter this time? have you lost your fine cloak, or has some one else grown tired of my little woman, and sent her off to starve?" "pray, squirrel, don't tease me, now. i'm so homesick, and so poor, and tired, and discouraged, that it seems to me i shall die." "that's what i said you'd come to, when you left us; but i'm your friend, minnie, though i am such a rude fellow, and i don't mean you any harm. good-by!" master squirrel was frisking off, when minnie called, "wait, wait! couldn't you--" "o, you mustn't ask any favors. i'm full of business and care. since we parted i have found a mate; and have a nest of my own, and lots of little ones. call and see us!" he had hardly gone, when mrs. yellow-bird came in sight. "my dear friend," minnie began. "a pretty friend!" she interrupted; "think of the trouble you've caused me!" "how?" "ah, you can pretend not to know; but i am sure master squirrel has told you what he did, in spite, because i helped carry the humming-bird home for you, one day, and tipped him out of the car. you never even came to say you were sorry." "how could i? i do not even know what the mischief was." "he upset my nest, and killed all my pretty little birds!" and she poured forth a song that seemed to say, "all my little ones, all my pretty birds gone! i can never be happy again!" even after yellow-bird was out of sight, the sad notes of her song came back, and she never knew of the tears that minnie shed for her. a spider now let herself down by her silken thread from the bough above, where she had been listening to minnie's words, and pitying her sorrow. "come! this is no way to be happy," she said, "and no way to make friends. who'd care to know such a ragged little witch as you? and you're dusty as a toad. why don't you wash your face, and mend your gown, and let folks see you are good for something?" "o, i have tried!" said minnie, mournfully. "i tried to sew a new gown out of elm leaves; but they were so tender they wilted and tore before i could put them together. then i picked some beautiful oak leaves, and they were so tough they blunted my needle, and frayed the spider-webs i was sewing with." "o, well, come down in the grass, and see what we can do together." down leaped minnie, like a squirrel, and down dropped spider on her silken thread. they ran through the grass together till they came to a dwarf-oak, from which minnie picked the large leaves, while spider wove them together with her curious web. minnie seated herself on a mushroom, and watched her good-natured friend at work. spider wove her threads back and forth, till the seams appeared to be laced together with silvery, silken cords. she finished each with silver tassels; and, when minnie had dressed in her handsome gown, wove a scarf of silver-gauze to throw across her shoulders. then minnie twisted grass-blades together, as yellow-bird had taught her, and made a strong girdle for her waist, and tucked a rose leaf under it for apron, and picked for bonnet a purple snap dragon, with a golden frill inside. but, alas, the happy, laughing look was gone from minnie's eyes; and the rags and the little sun-burnt face looked out beneath all her finery! chapter xxx. stork. a few days after minnie's escape from the pitcher-plant she heard the minnows telling each other about a dreadful creature, that had been wading in the brook, catching the fish in his wide bill, and gobbling them down two or three at a time. she thought it must be the stork, and that she would keep out of his way; but, when he really came at last, she couldn't help feeling how nice it would be to sit high and dry on his back while he waded up and down the stream. so minnie came out of her hiding-place, and asked stork if he remembered her. "don't i? it's all i have lingered here for--the hope of seeing my queer little woman again. my own home is far off, beside the blue ocean, where i can hear the pleasant music of the waves." "how i should like to hear them!" minnie exclaimed. "do they make as loud a sound as the water of the brook?" "not much louder when the weather is fair; but, in a storm, they roar like thunder, and don't they throw dainty breakfasts upon the rocks for me, then!" "what! honey, and rose leaves, and berries?" "no; where should they come from? the waves bring good fat fish, and clams, and black lobster-claws, that get broken in the storm." "o, dear, is that all?" "if you like it better, they bring shells, and pebbles white as eggs, and beautiful seaweeds gay as any garden-flower, and little red crabs, and curious star-fish. come home with me, and i'll show what the waves can do!" minnie was not sorry to leave the brook, which had become so unsafe for her; and, besides, you know she was always ready for a change. so, begging the stork to bend his neck as near the ground as he could, she clambered upon his back. then stork outspread his broad, strong wings, and up they flew, and on, on, on, i cannot tell how many miles, till they reached the ocean-side. [illustration: minnie's ride.] minnie had seen wide rivers and lakes before; but never anything equal to this mighty ocean, which lay beneath them like an enormous mirror, as they flew,--like a great glittering floor of glass. on one side it stretched far out--nothing but water--till it reached the sky; on the other, it was bordered by a beach of smooth, white sand, over which lay strewn the gay seaweeds, and pebbles, and shells, about which stork had told her. glad to stand on her feet again, minnie skipped along the shore, stooping often to admire some smooth, pearly shell, or glistening pebble, or heap of shining bubbles thrown up by the waves, and changing like opals in the sun. it seemed as if the little waves were chasing her; as if they ran up the smooth sand on purpose to kiss her feet; as if they were asking her to accept the pretty weeds and stones which they kept tossing on the beach. "o, stork, what a beautiful place it is! we will stay here as long as we live!" she said. "i don't know about that. the beach is a good place after a storm; but we can't dine on bubbles and pebbles, minnie, so climb my back again, and i'll take you across to the rocks." a long, black ledge, against which the waves kept dashing, to turn white with foam, and leap glittering into the air,--this was the place toward which stork now steered. the little woman could not but tremble as she looked down upon all the restless waves which stretched on every side as far as she could see. it was a beautiful sight; but minnie knew that, if she should fall, the ocean would swallow her more easily than ever stork swallowed a minnow in the brook. the rocks were wet, they found, and slippery; half covered with coarse seaweed, that was brown as leaves in winter, and did not look like any growing thing. but, selecting a higher ledge, which the sun had dried, stork asked minnie to sit here and rest, while he went in search of food. at first she watched the beautiful glittering foam, which leaped so lightly into the air, and then rolled back from the stones, in scattered drops, like showers of red pearls. then a croak called minnie's attention; and, looking across the rocks, she saw stork almost choking himself with trying to swallow a fish too large for his throat. down it went, at last; and now she watched how cautiously and silently stork crept from stone to stone, lifting his wings that he might easier walk on tip-toe with his clumsy feet. suddenly down went his snaky neck, and, when it rose, another fish was writhing in his bill. the little girl was so absorbed in watching her friend at his work, that she did not notice how night was falling, until a gust of cold sea-air made a chill creep over her. then, looking about, she found that the water had risen on every side, so as almost to cover the rocks on which she sat. stars one by one were coming out in the sky, and she called loudly for stork to take her back to the shore. chapter xxxi. the sea-shore. minnie did not call the stork a minute too soon. he had just caught sight of his mate, and, rather stupid with eating so hearty a supper, was about to fly away, forgetting his new friend. he did not tell her this, but treated her more kindly, perhaps, when he thought how near she came to being drowned by his neglect. for the tide, which rose every minute, would soon have swept her away. what should he find for minnie's supper? she was not partial to raw fish. it was too dark now to look for checkerberries and violet buds. ah! he would find some snails, and she should pick them out from their pretty white shells. they were sweet as smelts, he told her. but, when minnie came to look at them, it seemed to her like eating worms, or bugs; and, though stork assured her that in england he had seen some of the finest people eat these snails, she could not make up her mind to put one in her mouth. so, a bright thought struck stork. leaving minnie on the beach, he seized a clam, rose high in the air, and let it fall with such force that the shell broke; out dropped its contents, and the little girl was hungry enough to eat them with a relish. and, on their way home, stork stopped where there were birds' eggs in plenty. minnie remembered yellow-bird's grief over the loss of his young, and could not bear to rob the nests at first. but hunger drove her to it afterwards. stork settled into his own quiet nest at last, and minnie, creeping under his wing to keep warm, slept soundly, lulled by the music of the waves. the next morning minnie found the beach all over star-shaped tracks, too small for the stork's great feet. she found, soon, that these belonged to a curious little bird, that came in flocks. these skipped about the beach, as if they were trying to dance, or learning to take their steps. they were not larger than a robin, but had long legs and bills, so as to wade and catch fish among the waves. minnie made friends with them, and offered to give them lessons in dancing, of which they seemed so fond; but they told her they had only learned their droll steps from a habit of skipping away from waves when the tide was coming in. still, they allowed her to arrange them for a contra dance, and, though she had some trouble in persuading part to wait while the others went through their figure, minnie laughed till she was tired, with the funny sight they made. as the tide left the beach, minnie found plenty of rocks, and all along the crevices of the rock were snails, such as stork had brought her the night before; and, on the sides, barnacles, a kind of fish that, except it is white and hard, looks like some plant growing. in hollows, where there were pools of water, she saw purple mussels, their shells half open that they might enjoy the sun. then the seaweeds were different from anything she had ever seen. they were shaped like trees,--apple-trees, or willows, or elms; but were of the gayest colors you can think,--bright red, pink, purple, yellow, green, and some were jet black, and pretty shades of brown. some had fruit on them,--dark yellow berries, or apples, with a rosy side like any on our trees, only small as the head of a pin. the tallest of the trees were not higher than the length of your hand. it was like a little fairy forest. then minnie found, to her surprise, that the snails, which seemed so fastened into the rocks by their shell, moved, shell and all. she found them travelling in every direction,--but o, so slowly! it made her ache to see them. she could run across the beach a dozen times before a snail had moved an inch. sometimes she took them in her hands and carried them to the pool they were trying to reach; but they always said it made them dizzy and confused to fly along so fast, and they preferred their own slow way. sometimes the snails ran races with each other. that was a droll thing to watch, for they all travelled as slowly, it seemed to minnie, as the minute-hand on the clock in her father's office. they would start together, large snails and little ones, white snails and yellow, brown and black, striped, spotted, shaded, dragging their houses after them. there was a pretty little fellow, with a shell so bright it looked like gold; he almost always won the race. one day minnie picked up a beautiful purple mussel-shell, lined with pearl, and with a ledge of pearl inside, that served her for a seat. she launched this on the waves, and they bore her out to sea, where she drifted on without a fear, she knew how to swim so well, in case her boat upset; and then the beach birds were always ready to sail alongside of her little bark, and they could carry tidings home, should any harm befall her. chapter xxxii. storm and calm. minnie was very happy at the shore. a stranger stork did come one day, and, mistaking her for a fish, suddenly snatch her from her boat; but she held his bill so fast that he was glad to drop her on the beach. and at dark she was sorely afraid of the lobsters that crawled about the rocks, blindly stretching their black claws for food; but they had never harmed her yet, and, on the whole, the tiny woman thought she was having a beautiful time. she loved to chase the little dimpling waves; she was never tired of watching the flash of sunlight on the water by day, and at evening the sweet path of moonlight, that stretched so far, seemed like a path to her home,--if only she dared to trust herself on the waves! then all the changing colors of the water, and the pretty wreaths of foam, delighted her. she built a house, for herself, of such white pebbles and shells that it looked like a little marble palace. and the tables and seats inside, and the bed, were all beautiful mother-of-pearl. but a storm came one day, and washed away her house, and dashed the waves so high upon the beach, that minnie fled for her life. it happened a spruce-tree stood not far from the shore; so she scrambled up into its branches, both to be sheltered from, and to watch, the storm. it was awful to see the great waves rise and beat against the beach, as if they meant to wash the whole world away, and to hear the grating of the stones they clashed together, and see the great mats of seaweed they tore from the rocks, and the shells they swept out of their crevices, and tossed on the shore in heaps. and the water kept rising, and rising, till it covered the beach, and came nearer and nearer, until it reached the roots of the very tree into which minnie had climbed. it had been hard enough to bear the beating of the branches in the wind, but now must she be drowned, so far from her home, and no one ever dream what had become of her? [illustration: minnie at home.] minnie screamed with fright, and then, through the storm, she seemed to hear a low song, such as her mother used to sing, and, instead of the rough spruce branches, it seemed as if her mother's arms were about her now. she opened her eyes in wonder. could it be that the soft hand she had missed so long was stroking her curls once more? that the dear voice she had never thought to hear again was singing soft lullabies over her? that allie was looking in her face, and frank was holding her pale hand in his? yes, and, stranger still, her mother and franky declared that they had been with her all the while. on that first day of my story, when the squirrel came,--it seemed years ago to minnie, now,--she had fallen from the fence, and bruised her head, and had been sick with a fever ever since, and they thought she must have dreamed these marvellous things. certain it was that, when the little girl looked in the glass, she found herself large as ever, though pale and very thin. her gown, too, was made of muslin, instead of forest leaves; and, instead of being perched on a pine-bough, here she stood in her own father's home! and here she resolved to stay and be content. for, whether awake or in a fever-dream, minnie had learned this, that, let it be large or small, there is, in all this great wide world, no place so safe and pleasant as our home. and this, besides, that the handsomest, kindest, gayest among strangers, will never make up for the loss of our own friends, the parents that have watched over us ever since we were born, the brothers and sisters that have played by the same fireside, and under the same green trees. dear children, when you are older, you will find that all the people in this world have strayed, like minnie; that they wander about, making acquaintance with many creatures, but still unsatisfied; that they encounter storms, and suffer weariness and loneliness, and long for those who dwell in the far-off home. yes, and some morning we all shall wake in our father's house, and find about us the blessed voices and dear forms of those we have loved; and then it will be like a dream that we seemed to lose them once. that home is on the other side of the stars. but frank and minnie are young yet, and expect to find it here. they are young, and cannot believe that their senses may be mistaken, and that all minnie's curious changes happened in a dream. many an afternoon they still spend in looking for the wondrous weed that will make them understand the language of birds, and squirrels, and butterflies. and, to tell you the truth, i more than half believe they will find it yet. generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) [illustration: the fox and the hedgehog. page 202.] the squirrels and other animals; or, illustrations of the habits and instincts of many of the smaller british quadrupeds. by george waring. london: harvey and darton, gracechurch street. the squirrels and other animals. chapter i. "bless me, i do believe i have been asleep!" said a squirrel, one fine morning in early spring, when the delicious warmth of the sun had reached him in his winter retreat, and roused the lazy little fellow from a two months' nap. the truth is, that he and his family had fallen asleep at the first setting in of the cold weather, and had passed the dismal winter in a state of profound repose, except, that, during a warm day or two in january, they had roused themselves for a short time, and eaten a few nuts and acorns from their winter store. "yes, i have certainly been asleep," said the squirrel, "and i fancy i have had a pretty long nap too. well, i declare, my lazy wife and children are lying there still, curled up like so many dead things! hallo, mrs. brush! come, get up and eat some breakfast. here is the sun shining in most gloriously at the mouth of the hole, and i hear the blackbird's merry whistle in the grove below. ah! they wont move, so i'll have a run this fine morning, and see how the world looks now. perhaps when i come back they may be awake." so master brush went to the entrance of his nest, which was situated at a great height from the ground, in a commodious hollow of a magnificent oak-tree. "oh joy!" he exclaimed, when he had looked around him for half a minute, "i see those delicious buds are beginning to sprout. nobody can tell how i long for some fresh green food again! nuts and acorns are all very well, but then they are _terribly dry_. here goes for a leap, then!" [illustration: the squirrel. page 4.] so saying, the active little fellow sprang from his hole, and if you had seen him, you would have thought that no animal without wings could have ventured upon such a leap without being dashed to pieces upon the ground. but brush had nothing to fear; for though he had no wings, he knew that his beautiful bushy tail, and his legs, stretched out straight from his body, would bear him up in the air, and prevent his falling too heavily. then he had very strong legs for his size, especially his hind legs, and his claws were so sharp and hooked, that he could skip along the boughs, without the least danger of falling off, and he could even run up and down the perpendicular trunks of trees, almost as easily as we can walk upon the level ground. so when brush leaped from the entrance of his hole, instead of falling to the earth, he pitched lightly upon a bough of the tree a long way below him, and ran along it for a short distance. then he leaped to another bough still lower, from the end of which, he very easily reached the next tree, and so on, from tree to tree, till he found himself in a well-known grove of young larches, at some distance. here he immediately fell to work, nibbling the fresh green buds and tender bark. he sat upright, as squirrels generally do when they are eating, using his fore-feet as hands to hold his food, and very pretty he looked. but i think, that, if the gamekeeper had seen him injuring the young trees,[1] he would not have been very well pleased, and perhaps he would have put his gun to his shoulder and shot poor little brush, if he had not received orders to the contrary. for though his master knew that the squirrels injured his young trees sometimes, he would not allow them to be killed. [1] i should be sorry to bring a false accusation against the squirrels, the most beautiful and entertaining of all the british quadrupeds. but the whole truth must be told. they _do_ occasionally injure young trees by feeding on the buds and bark; and a relation of mine, who has an estate in the west of england, informs me that his plantations have suffered considerably from their attacks. in his woods, squirrels are unusually abundant, and in consequence their depredations are the more evident. but, generally speaking, these animals are not sufficiently numerous to cause any serious injury to our plantations, and the pleasure they afford us by exhibiting their wonderful leaps and feats of agility among the summer branches, more than repay us for their very trifling thefts. this gentleman had a particular reason for protecting the squirrels in his woods. one day the gamekeeper shot a very fine one, and brought it up to the house as a present for his master's little daughter jane, who was confined with a disease from which she never recovered. at first, the child was pleased with her new plaything, but her tender heart was pained when she saw its beautiful eyes becoming dim, and recollected that, perhaps it had left in its nest some young ones, that were perishing for want of its care. her grief was increased by fancying that, as the animal had been killed on purpose for her, she had been the cause of its death, and though her parents said all they could to comfort her, they could hardly make her believe that she was not to blame; for when people are very ill they often have strange fancies. poor little jane died a few days after, and almost the last words she spoke were, "papa, don't let harvey kill any more squirrels." her father carefully attended to this request of his darling little girl--his only child--the joy of his heart--and though, like most country gentlemen, he was exceedingly angry if any person stole his game, i believe he would rather have lost fifty pheasants or hares than one squirrel. _and so would i_, had i been poor little jane's papa! but we must not forget master brush, who has been seated all this time in the larch-plantation, making a famous meal upon the aromatic buds and tender bark. "ah!" said he to himself, "if those lazy creatures in the nest yonder did but know what delicious food there is here!" then he continued munching and skipping about the trees for some time longer. but presently the weather began to change. the sun hid his glorious face behind dark clouds; a fierce easterly wind whistled through the trees; a cold driving rain came on, and winter seemed to be returned again. "oh, dear me," said brush, "this will never do! i don't like this sort of thing at all! the nest is the best place i declare." when he reached his own tree, he was obliged to ascend to his nest by a different way, for squirrels cannot leap up to any place that is very far above them; so he ran along the ground for a little distance, to the bottom of the oak, which was surrounded by a very close thicket of brambles. in this thicket lived several families of dormice, who were brush's relations, and the waggish squirrel called out to one of them as he passed, "hallo, cousin gotobed! the summer is almost over. if you don't make haste, all the nuts and acorns will be gone!" but there was no possibility of making his cousin gotobed hear; for you must know, that a dormouse is a very sleepy little fellow indeed; even more so than a squirrel. brush was soon in his own warm nest, where he found all his family safe, and sound asleep, as he had left them. this nest, as i have mentioned, was made in a hole in the upper part of a very large oak-tree, and was almost as dry and warm as any bedroom in our houses. it was lined with dry leaves and soft moss, and in another part of the hole, which was large enough for five or six squirrels' nests, there was a great heap of nuts, acorns, and beechmast, which the careful brush and his family had collected in the autumn. besides this stock of food, there were two more hoards, hidden in holes in different parts of the tree for the cunning squirrels thought, that, if some thief should wish to rob them of their treasures, he would not be very likely to discover all three of their storehouses. if it were not for this large stock of provisions, the poor squirrels would be starved to death, in very mild winters, because then they do not sleep so much, and fresh food cannot be procured. when brush was in his comfortable nest, safe from the cold wind and rain, though he had almost filled his stomach with young buds, he thought he would try one of his nuts, just to see how they had kept through the winter. holding the nut in his hands, his sharp teeth soon gnawed through the shell, and when he had reached the kernel, the dainty little fellow would not eat a bit till he had carefully removed every particle of the dry brown skin from it. "a very sweet nut, i declare," said he, "nuts are not to be despised, after all. dear me, i think i feel rather sleepy again! nuts are not bad things, but as i was saying before, rather dry, when one has nothing else. but really i am very sleepy. 'tis either the cold wind, or the famous breakfast i have made, i suppose;--very sleepy--indeed,--upon--my--word." the last words sounded exactly as your voice would, if your head was covered up under the bed-clothes. the truth is, that, while brush was talking to himself, he had gradually changed his position from sitting upright to lying down on his side. then he slowly rolled himself up into a round ball, with his head and back closely covered by his beautiful tail. this served him famously for a blanket, and so we may say, that his last words were really spoken _with his head under the bed-clothes_. by way of filling up the time till the fine weather returns, and our sleeping friend uncurls himself again, i will give you a very short description of another sort of squirrel, which lives in the woods of america, and is even a much better leaper than ours. it is called the flying squirrel, though that is not a very proper name, for it cannot really fly; i mean that it cannot raise itself from the ground, like a bird can. but it can leap to a surprising distance, for besides a large bushy tail, it has a very curious membrane, or skin, on each side of its body, reaching from the fore to the hind leg. so when the flying squirrel leaps, it stretches out this skin as wide as possible, and as the air bears it up, it appears almost to _fly_ from one tree to another. travellers who have seen them, tell us that when a number of them leap at the same time, they appear, at a distance, like leaves blown off by the wind. chapter ii. after several days of cold wintry weather, the sun burst through the clouds again, calling into life plants, and insects, _and squirrels_. brush and his wife, and their three children, who were born the preceding summer, and had lived with their parents through the winter, were all awake and enjoying themselves again. how they frolicked and chased each other about from tree to tree, and played at hide-and-seek among the branches! you would have thought that they had laid wagers with each other, who should venture upon the most difficult and dangerous leaps. then what feasting there was upon buds and young bark! and though this fresh green food was very nice as a change, still they all seemed to agree with our friend brush, that nuts and acorns were not to be despised neither. once or twice the gamekeeper gave the young squirrels a terrible fright by shouting to them, when they were making free with the tender bark of his master's trees; but their parents told them, as they had often done before, that there was nothing to fear from harvey, nor from his frightful looking gun. i hope you have not forgotten who it was that had saved the lives of so many squirrels. but if harvey's frolicsome young spaniels, flora and juno, had met with one of our friends at a distance from any tree, i am afraid it would have been a bad business, for squirrels cannot run very fast on the ground, and their bushy tails seem rather in the way there. and the cunning little animals appear to know this, for though they sometimes come down to the ground, you will very seldom see them at any great distance from a tree. a few days after the squirrels roused themselves from their long winter sleep, their cousins, the dormice, in the thicket at the foot of the tree, opened their sleepy eyes at last, and came out of their nests. but when they were once thoroughly awake, their eyes did not look sleepy at all, but on the contrary, were most beautifully bright and dark, and rather large for the size of the animal. [illustration: the dormice. page 23.] i call the dormouse a relation to the squirrel,[2] because in some respects, he is really very like him, though at first sight you would not think so, and would perhaps say, that he was very little different from a common mouse, except in being rather fatter, and of a prettier colour. but his tail, though not nearly so large and bushy, is something like the squirrel's, and not at all like that of the mouse, which is almost entirely bare of hair, and in my opinion, has a very ugly and disagreeable appearance. the tail of the dormouse is handsome, and useful also, for when he sleeps he curls it over his head and back, to keep him warm and comfortable. then in his habits he resembles the squirrel, for like him he can climb trees well, though he cannot leap very far, and he likes to dwell in the shade and retirement of the pleasant woods, far from the habitations of man. here he generally makes his nest, which is composed of moss and leaves, in the thickest parts of bushes or underwood, and he lays up a winter store, like the squirrel. [2] the genus _myoxus_, to which the dormouse belongs, appears to be intermediate between the genera _sciurus_ and _mus_, in each of which this animal has been placed by different naturalists. dormice are such sociable little creatures, that several families are sometimes found living close together, like those that had chosen their habitations at the foot of our squirrel's great oak-tree. perhaps before i have finished this tale i may have something more to tell you about little gotobed, the dormouse. do you suppose that brush and his family spent the whole of the summer in frolicking and feasting? no, indeed! for even squirrels have work to do, and duties to perform. so, after a few days spent in the merry way i have described, one afternoon, when their children were gone on an excursion to the larch-grove, mr. and mrs. brush perched themselves up on the topmost branch of their own oak-tree, and had some very serious conversation together. at least, they meant that the conversation should be serious; but brush was such a merry waggish fellow, that he seldom could talk very long upon any subject without a laugh or a joke. "well, my dear," he began very gravely, "this is the third family you and i have seen playing around us. for three years we have lived happily together in this old oak, and a finer tree or a more comfortable nest than ours i do not believe can be found in the whole world." here in the gaiety of his heart he darted off to a neighbouring bough, and after performing a few strange antics for his companion's amusement, he was again perched up by her side, and went on with his speech. "three years," continued he, "yes, i declare, it is three years since i persuaded you to have nothing more to say to that tiresome old fellow bigtail, and to take me for a companion instead." "come, come, you rogue," said his wife, "if this is the serious conversation you wanted to have with me, you may as well hold your tongue." "ha! ha!" he proceeded without attending to the interruption, "ha! ha! i remember that conceited old fellow bigtail, and how you preferred him to me, because his tail was the least bit in the world longer than mine. i made him ashamed of his fine tail though at last. oh, what fun! i shall never forget it! he was stuck up by your side, talking the most ridiculous stuff, i dare say, when i leaped down suddenly upon him from the branch above. i never did anything better in my life! over he went like a dead thing. the old fellow was too much frightened, and too stiff in his joints, to catch hold of the boughs below, so down he tumbled to the ground. i declare i thought he was killed! but no, he only broke--ha! ha! ha! i am ready to die when i think of it--he only _broke his tail_! ha! ha! he never could hold it up over his back afterwards, so there it was always dragging behind him, like a bundle of dead grass. what a ridiculous old fellow! after that tumble, he always went by the name brokentail, instead of bigtail; and from that time you never could abide him, you know." "really, mr. brush," said his partner, "if you make such a fool of yourself, i wont speak another word to you all day. what has all this nonsense to do with the serious conversation you wished to have with me about the children?" "oh yes, it was about the children i wanted to talk to you," replied brush, "and not about old broken----. well, well, i wont say anything more about him, then, so come and sit down quietly again, and i'll be very serious indeed! there! now we are all right once more. well, my dear, now then about these children of ours. i believe you know what i am going to say--_we must part from them_, mrs. brush! it is high time for you and me to see about putting the nest in order for another family, and these three children of ours must go and see the world, and find companions for themselves, for the rest of their lives. i only hope that when the boys are seeking for companions they will not break their tails like old ----; i mean, i hope they will both meet with as good a partner as their mother has been to me." the two old squirrels had a great deal more talk upon this subject, but as conversation about family affairs is often rather tiresome, i shall not repeat all they said about the matter. though they both regretted parting from their children, they were convinced that a separation was necessary, and they agreed that the sooner it took place the better. perhaps you may think they were rather unamiable and hard-hearted, in treating their children in this manner; but you must remember that, though these were not yet a year old, they were very nearly, if not quite, as large as their parents, and were well able to take care of themselves. when the young squirrels were informed of this determination, they were very sorry at first; but the thoughts of being their own masters, and of having comfortable nests of their own, reconciled them to the separation. i never heard what good advice their parents gave them at parting, but i have not the least doubt that brush cautioned them to beware of the sad fate of old brokentail. so the three children, leaving their native tree, set off by themselves into the wide world, and i have nothing more to tell you about _them_. we must see what brush and his companion did during the rest of the summer, what adventures they met with, and what new acquaintances they found among the various animals that lived in the neighbourhood of their beautiful oak-tree. here i must give you a short description of the place where this tree grew, and where it had flourished for five or six hundred years at least. it was in a small, but very beautiful valley, through which ran a brook of the clearest water imaginable. this little stream came down from the hills, and ran through the upper part of the valley, in a very furious manner, as if it were in a hurry to be gone, that it might join the dark deep river, and reach the wide ocean at last. but just at the spot where our oak raised its head very far above all the trees around it, the impatient stream gradually changed its manner of proceeding, and began to run more slowly, as if desirous of remaining a little longer in such a delightful spot. so, after quietly winding backwards and forwards for some time, it spread itself out at last into the form of a most beautiful little pond, through which the current was so slow that it was hardly perceptible. the gentleman to whom this valley, and the country around it, belonged, had spent many hundreds of pounds, and had employed the most skilful people he could find, in making his gardens and pleasure-grounds as gay and beautiful as possible. and yet, if you had walked all over his property, you would have said that no part of it was half so lovely as this little retired valley, where the art of man had never done anything to add to its exceeding beauty. the gardener's spade and pruning-knife had never been used here. everything you saw was fresh and unaltered from the hand of god himself. i think the most beautiful part was the pond, and the open space just around it; for here the finest wild-flowers grew in abundance, and the noble oak-tree was so near, that, when the winds of autumn came down the valley, the trout, that delighted to swim in those pure waters, were sometimes startled by a shower of acorns, falling down from the outermost branches, and making a terrible splash over their heads. i have not time to describe more than a very few of the plants which were to be found in the pond and on its banks. there was the water-lily, with its large green leaves laying flat upon the water, and its splendid white flowers, just raising their heads above the surface; the flowering-rush, which bears a bunch of beautiful pink blossoms on a high tapering stem; and the buckbean, which, though at a distance it does not look so grand as the other two, has such an exquisitely beautiful fringe on its pinky-white flowers, that the most skilful painter has never yet been able to produce even a tolerable imitation of it. many other lovely plants there were growing round the pond, and in other parts of this delightful little valley: plants which exceeded in beauty many of those we cultivate with so much care in our gardens and hot-houses. but when i began this little history i meant to write about "squirrels and other animals," and not to give a description of plants. we must therefore return to our friends in the oak-tree. chapter iii. after the departure of their children the squirrels felt, as you may suppose, rather dull and lonely at first, but they very wisely made use of a remedy for low spirits, which i would strongly recommend to you, whenever you find yourself melancholy or uncomfortable in your mind from any cause. and particularly when you are so, _without_ any apparent cause; for we sometimes see people very dismal and melancholy, when they have every good thing they can wish, and _ought_ to be cheerful and happy. this wonderful and never failing remedy for low spirits is _employment_! try it, my dear melancholy young reader, and whether you have a good reason for your sadness or not, you will at least have met with something worth remembering in this history. our squirrels, then, instead of sitting moping side by side on a bough, and grumbling out to each other, "what miserable creatures we are!" instead of thus giving way to their melancholy thoughts, they immediately began to make use of the _remedy_ i have mentioned. the first thing they did was carefully to examine the nest, to see what repairs it stood in need of. it would at any rate require a fresh lining of moss and leaves; so all the old bedding, which i must confess was rather dusty and untidy, was taken off, and kicked out of the hole, together with a quantity of nut-shells and other rubbish, which had been collecting there for some months. when this work was finished, it was found that the under part, or groundwork of the nest, which consisted of small twigs and fibres curiously interlaced, was very rotten, and required to be almost entirely renewed. so there was plenty of work to do, and very diligently the squirrels laboured to complete it. not that they worked like slaves, from morning till night. oh no! they allowed themselves abundance of time for feasting and fun, for they were such merry, light-hearted creatures, that they could not live without a good game of play now and then. they even mixed play with their work; for when they had to go to a little distance for some particularly fine soft moss, or other materials for nest-building, they were sure to have a race, to try which of them could reach the place first. so the days passed by right merrily. "it is very odd," said brush, one evening, just before he rolled himself up for the night in the warm _blanket_ i have before mentioned; "it is very odd that we should have lived almost all our lives so near that family of water-rats, in the bank of the pond, and have known so little about them. i always thought them a savage, bloodthirsty, set of fellows, and that they would make no scruple of killing fish, or young birds, or mice, or any other small animal that they could master. but what do you think gotobed told me just now, as i came up the tree? why, he says, that it is all a mistake, and that he is certain that these water-rats are a very decent, quiet sort of people, feeding on vegetables, like ourselves. he says, that as he was creeping about just now among the grass, close to the edge of the pond, but a long way from the water-rats' holes, which are all on the opposite side, he suddenly found himself quite close to one of these creatures, who was perched up on a flat stone, and busily gnawing the root of some plant. our poor little cousin, you know, has not much presence of mind, so in his fright, and terrible hurry to escape from the monster, he slipped off the bank, and rolled into the water. the splash he made frightened the rat, who plumped into the water too, and so there they were both swimming close together. gotobed expected to be eaten up in a minute, but the rat only said to him, 'ha! ha! little fellow, is it only you? not much used to swimming i see! but come down some fine evening, and i'll teach you. the water is too cold just now for such as you.' "gotobed was too much frightened to say a word, so he scrambled up the bank, and ran home to his nest as fast as possible. poor little thing! he looked so miserable, with his beautiful fur dripping wet, and sticking close to his body." "what a ridiculous story," said mrs. brush, who could hardly keep herself awake till it was finished; "why i have heard gotobed say, that his mother used to tell a story about a relation of hers, who lived a good way off, who was killed and eaten up in a moment, by one of these very water-rats. i have even heard it said, that the males will often kill and eat the young ones, if their mothers are not careful to hide them. depend upon it, they are a horrid set, and i often wish they did not live quite so near us." "well," said brush, gaping, "i'll try to find out something more about them to-morrow; but i declare i can't keep awake any longer just now." so the next afternoon, our squirrel, who had some courage, and a great deal of curiosity, determined, if possible, to learn something about the character of these water-rats, one of whom, by a kind word spoken to little gotobed, had so altered his opinion of their disposition and manner of living. brush chose the afternoon for his visit, because he had observed that these animals came out of their holes more at that time than in the middle of the day. but our inquisitive friend did not allow his curiosity to lead him into any danger, in this inquiry into the proceedings of his neighbours. he therefore crept through the high grass to the other side of the pond, and very quietly climbed up into a low willow-tree, overhanging the bank, in which the water-rats had made their habitations. here, concealed among the leaves, he had a full view of all that passed below. close to the steep bank, in which these animals had bored many round holes, was a small flat space of fine pebbles and sand, sloping down into the water on one side, and on the other, bordered by a thick bed of the sweet-smelling water-mint, with here and there a stem of the plant called horsetail, towering up like a gigantic palm-tree in the midst of a forest. on this pleasant little pebbly beach, brush perceived several water-rats, both old and young; and some very grave looking faces were peeping out of their holes in the bank, watching the proceedings of their companions below. one of those on the beach had his attention entirely engaged by the root of some plant, which he was nibbling; another was busily cleaning his fur with his fore-paws; and two very young ones were paddling about in the shallow water, into which their mother, as brush supposed, had taken them, for the first time in their lives, to give them a lesson in swimming. sometimes one of the grave looking gentlemen in the bank, either for amusement, or in search of food, would leap, or rather _tumble_, from the mouth of his hole, into the water, and dive at once to the bottom, with the greatest ease imaginable; but he could not remain under much more than a minute at a time, for want of breath. when he came up again to the surface, brush was exceedingly surprised to see that, instead of appearing wet and miserable, like poor little gotobed after his ducking, his hair was as dry as if he had never been into the water at all. "how delightful it must be to dive and swim about like that!" said the squirrel to himself, and he could hardly help jumping in to try his skill, forgetting that he was not formed for moving through the water, but for running and leaping about among the branches of trees. i wonder how he would have managed his bushy tail in swimming, and how funny it would have looked with the long hair all wet and sticking together! perhaps he thought of this himself. at any rate, he did not jump into the water just then, but remained looking down from his hiding-place in the willow-tree, very much pleased with what he had hitherto seen of these clever divers and swimmers. "well," said he to himself, "they don't eat their own young ones, that is clear enough; but how they might treat any other small animal that came in their way i cannot possibly tell. and yet the great old rat that frightened poor gotobed so terribly, behaved very well, i am sure; but then perhaps he was not hungry just then, and only asked him to come again and be taught to swim that he might make a meal of him another time. so i won't have anything to say to them just yet. perhaps if i wait here a little longer, i may see something that will decide the matter." and the matter _was_ decided, sooner than brush expected. at a little distance from the water-rats' station, he now perceived a most singular looking animal, which was quite a stranger to him, though he had a pretty large acquaintance among his neighbours. it was about the size of a common mouse, but of a deep velvety black above, and white underneath, and its nose was very long and pointed, like the snout of a pig. his eyes were very small indeed, and looked like little black beads deeply set in his head. this curious, but beautiful little animal behaved exactly like a person who knows that he has a great deal of work to get through in a very short time. i mean, that he was very diligent and active, and seemed determined not to lose a moment by stopping to rest himself, or to consider what he should do next. he appeared to be an excellent swimmer and diver, thrusting his long nose under the leaves at the bottom of the water, in search of insects i suppose, and when he came to the surface again, his fur was quite dry, like that of the water-rats. so when he dived, this water-repelling property in his fur made him appear of a beautiful silvery white colour, from the number of small air bubbles he carried down with him. he was never still for a moment, either diving to the bottom, or swimming, with a very quick wriggling motion on the surface, and every now and then he would come to the shore, from which he seldom ventured very far. "a very queer little fellow indeed, upon my word!" said brush, "i wonder who he is. i cannot help liking him though, for he seems so clever and industrious. oh dear me! how i wish i could dive in that beautiful clear water! but i declare he is coming nearer and nearer every minute to that old rat, who is so busy gnawing his root. now, when the little one passes him, we shall see what will happen. i am sure the old rat must be terribly hungry, or he would not gnaw that disagreeable looking root so eagerly, and if he does not pounce upon the little black fellow, and tear him to pieces, i shall be very much astonished indeed." the squirrel was not long kept in suspense, for just as he had finished talking the matter over to himself, the little velvet-coated swimmer, intent upon his own important business, came paddling along very near the shore, and at last landed quite close to the spot where the rat was still engaged with his root. but when he perceived the visitor, he immediately left off eating, and slowly turned his head towards him! [illustration: the water-rat and water-shrewmouse. page 61.] "horrible! he'll have him now! 'tis all over with him," said brush, quite trembling with eagerness to see the end of the affair. "'tis all over with the little black fellow, and these rats are rascals after all!" but he was very much mistaken, for the only animal that lost its life upon the occasion, was a small insect, which the bead-like eyes of little velvet-coat had perceived crawling upon a stone, near the water's edge, and in his eagerness to secure this valuable prize, i suppose he did not observe that such a large fierce-looking creature was close by, or perhaps he had found from experience that there was nothing to fear from him. however, the little fellow boldly seized his prey, and darted off with it into the water, while the quiet old gentleman went on munching his root again. now when brush witnessed this peaceable meeting of the two animals, proving that water-rats were not the cruel, savage tempered creatures, they are generally supposed to be, he was so delighted, that he quite forgot that he had intended to have been a concealed spectator of their proceedings. so he called out as loud as he could,-"capital, i declare! 'tis all a lie from beginning to end. little gotobed was right after all. they _are_ a very decent, quiet set, as he said." but this expression of his sentiments quite interrupted the peaceable employments of the company below, for the loud strange voice nearly over their heads frightened them so, that they all either dived under water, or retreated into their holes. however, the squirrel had now satisfied his curiosity, and as he was rather frightened himself at the disturbance he had made, he hastily leaped down from his hiding-place, and scampered home to his nest. as for little velvet-coat, i never heard what became of him, but no doubt he found a place to hide himself in. but i believe i have never told you who he was. he was a _water-shrewmouse_,[3] and very much like the common shrewmouse that we often find lying dead in lanes and pathways. but he was larger than the common shrewmouse, and altogether a much handsomer animal. [3] though this beautiful and interesting little animal, the water-shrewmouse, was for a long time almost unnoticed by the naturalists of this country, it cannot be considered as a rare species. bell, in his history of british quadrupeds, informs us, that it is not uncommon in many parts of england, and he says, that its black velvet-like fur and long snout have sometimes given rise to an opinion, that it is a small species of mole, to which animal its structure and habits indicate a near affinity. chapter iv. when brush gave an account of all that he had seen to his partner, who was of a much more cautious disposition than himself, he was rather vexed that she still seemed not quite convinced that these water-rats were such peaceable, good-tempered animals as he believed them to be. it was very tiresome, to be sure, but she _would_ keep on relating all the foolish old tales she had ever heard about their killing other animals, and even their own children. we all know how disagreeable it is when we have been taking a great deal of trouble to persuade other people to think like ourselves on any subject, to find at last, after half-an-hour's talking, that they are just as much attached to their own opinions as ever. now our squirrel was really a very good-tempered fellow in general, but i must confess that he was rather cross on this occasion; and though he did not say much about it, he showed that he was "a little out of sorts," as people say, by curling himself up for the night fully half an hour before his usual time of going to sleep. but the next morning he awoke in a very good-humoured mood indeed, and worked hard all day with his companion, to complete the nest. he seemed to have forgotten the subject of their dispute, till towards evening, when, as he was sitting alone on a branch of the oak, on the side nearest the pond, a _bat_ suddenly fluttered by, skimming with zigzag flight over the still water. "there goes old leatherwing, i declare!" exclaimed brush: "the very person i was wishing to see! i'll call out to him to stop the next time he passes, and ask him to set me right about those water-rats. he is a very learned old fellow, and i believe knows something about every animal in the woods. to be sure, old leatherwing is often rather tiresome and prosy, and he _will_ talk a great deal about his own affairs; but then he is a very clever old gentleman for all that, and has seen a great deal of the world." for some time leatherwing continued flying backwards and forwards, over the upper end of the pond, and seemed determined not to approach the oak-tree. the truth is, that his game, which consisted of gnats and other small insects, was abundant just at that spot, and a very hearty supper he made that evening. i suppose he found the legs and wings of these insects rather dry food, for sometimes, as he skimmed over the water, he would dip in like a swallow, and drink a few drops as he passed, in order to wash them down. while he is eating his supper, i intend to give you a short, and i hope not a very uninteresting description of his curious wings. as for his habits and manner of passing his time, i dare say that he will take care to say something upon that subject himself, when he gets into conversation with brush, who has just informed us that "old leatherwing _will_ talk a great deal about his own affairs." almost every person, whether living in the town or country, must often have observed the bat flitting about trees and houses in a calm summer evening, but many have never taken the trouble to examine him more closely, or have not had an opportunity of doing so. to form a proper idea of the structure of the bat's wings you must understand, that his fore-legs, or his _arms_, as i will call them, are almost as long as his body, and that all the four fingers of his hands are _quite as long as his arms_. between these immensely long and slender fingers, is stretched, (like the silk on the framework of an umbrella,) a very thin elastic skin, or membrane,[4] which is continued from the tips of the little fingers to the ankles of the hind-legs, and then very nearly to the end of the tail, which is almost as long as his body. so that the animal, when spread out in the flying position, is entirely surrounded with the membrane, except at the head and neck. the toes of the hind-foot, and the thumb of the hand, are not attached to the skin, and are not longer than those of other animals. these are furnished with sharp and hooked claws, so that the bat can cling very firmly to walls and perpendicular rocks. [4] the membrane of the bat's wing appears to possess a most exquisite and inconceivable sensibility. cruel experiments have proved that this animal, when deprived of the senses of seeing, hearing, and smelling, will still fly about a room, without ever coming into contact with the walls, or with threads stretched across in all directions. cuvier supposes, that "the propinquity of solid bodies is perceived by the manner in which the air re-acts upon the surface of the wings." this astonishing faculty, which almost indicates the possession of a sixth sense unknown to us, is no doubt of great use to the bat, as it enables him to pursue his rapid zigzag flight in the dark, without fear of striking against the boughs of trees, or other obstacles. the animal introduced in the tale is the common bat, _vespertilio pipistrellus_ of modern naturalists. it is now ascertained that no less than seventeen species of this singular family are natives of this country. some of them are very much larger than the common bat, measuring fifteen inches in the extent of their wings. it has been said, that the bat is nothing more than a _mouse with wings_. nonsense! except in its size, it has no more resemblance to the _mouse_, than it has to the _lion_; and those who think that the two animals are at all alike can never have examined them attentively. however, in some parts of the country the bat is still called by its old english name, "_the flittermouse_," that is, the mouse that _flitters_, or _flutters_ about. when leatherwing had caught most of the insects at the upper end of the pond, he thought he would try what success he could meet with lower down; and then he came so near the oak-tree that brush managed to make him hear at last. so the bat, who happened to be in rather a talkative mood, left off insect-hunting for the present, for the sake of enjoying a little gossip with his old acquaintance. he settled on a branch close by, but instead of sitting down like other animals, the queer little creature chose to hang himself up by his hind-claws, with his head downwards, and his wings closely folded round him. in this strange, and, as most people would think, extremely uncomfortable position, old leatherwing began the following conversation:-leatherwing. well, master brush, what do you want with me now? just made such a glorious supper! do you know, i fancy that the insects about this pond of yours are fatter and better tasted than any others, and that's the reason i come so far after them. for _'tis_ a good way off, you know, to the old church-tower where i live. well, but as i was saying, what do you want with me this evening? brush. why, i want to ask you a question, for to tell you the truth, yesterday evening mrs. b. and i had a little---leatherwing. what! a little addition to your family? you don't say so! well, i thought it was almost time, for we are nearly in the middle of summer. now do you know mrs. leatherwing was confined several days ago, and that's the reason she is not with me this evening. i left her flying up and down a shady lane nearer home, carrying her baby about with her, as she always does, you know, till it grows pretty strong. she had only one this time. and so mrs. brush is confined, is she? well, i congratulate you. how many has she got? five or six, i'll be bound! brush. she hasn't got any at all yet, mr. leatherwing, though what may happen in the course of a few days i cannot possibly tell. but i want to ask you a question about something that has puzzled us very much lately. leatherwing. to be sure, i dare say i shall be able to answer it; for though i say it myself, i _am_ able to give you an answer to almost any question. for you see, friend brush, i have lived all my life in towns and villages, and so i have heard and seen a good deal of what passes in the world. then i am not like you sleepy animals, who hardly ever wake up more than once or twice during the whole winter. to be sure, i take a little nap myself, of about a couple of months, in the very coldest weather, when there are no insects stirring. we bats, you know, can't eat nuts, and such sort of trash; and so when there is no wholesome food to be met with, we are obliged to sleep a little, just to pass away the time. now, if i could contrive to keep a winter stock of _gnats_, as easily as you can of _nuts_, i declare i would not sleep much more in winter than in summer. for i don't mind a little frost, not i! only in cold weather, instead of flying about in the evening, as i do at this time of the year, i choose the sunshine in the middle of the day, because then i have the best chance of meeting with some game. and yet ignorant people say that i cannot bear the light of the sun! i can tell you, that i picked up a pretty good meal of insects one bright day last winter, when the ground was frozen hard, and i heard some of the stupid boys in our village call out, as i passed them, 'why! there's a bat! throw thy cap at him, jem! what business has _he_ got to be flying about now, i wonder?' and then another said, 'throw at him! well done! once get him down on the ground, and he can neither run nor fly. these fellows can't raise themselves off the ground, dost know!' "great fools! i might easily have shown them that i can both run very well on the ground, and fly up from it when i choose; but i did _not_ choose to try it just then. but let me see, what were we talking about? you were going to ask me a question, i think." as brush had now an opportunity of speaking at last, he related to leatherwing all the tales he had heard about the evil doings of the water-rats, and also what he had himself observed of their habits. then he asked the bat for his opinion upon this puzzling question, and the old fellow gave it as follows:-leatherwing. the longer i live in the world, my good friend brush, and the more i see of the world, the more i am astonished at the stupidity and amazing ignorance of the people i meet with! to be sure, everybody has not had such good opportunities as myself of obtaining information, or has not made such good use of them. but let that pass. now for these water-rats. in the first place, then, they _are_ a very quiet, inoffensive people, and would no more think of killing a mouse, or a young bird, or any other small animal, than you would. the only mischief they ever do is by boring their holes through the embankments of canals and ponds, and in this manner the meadows have sometimes been flooded. in the second place, all the other wicked deeds that they have been accused of should be laid to the charge of the _common brown rat_, a ferocious, savage-tempered creature, which often lives in the banks of ditches, and is then supposed by silly people to be the same animal as the water-rat. brush. capital! so i was right after all about the character of these good-tempered neighbours of ours. ho, ho! mrs. brush, i shall have something to tell you presently! then it must have been one of these common brown rascal that killed little gotobed's relation. leatherwing. to be sure it was, for as i tell you, they are fierce, savage creatures, and are so voracious that they will eat anything. they destroy young birds and other animals; and if no other food could be found, i dare say they would be wicked and unnatural enough to make a meal of their own young ones. and yet, let me tell you, they are very clever, sensible creatures, if they would but make a better use of their abilities. the worst of it all is that they are _foreigners_, and have no business in this country at all, though from what part of the world they came i cannot tell you.[5] and if i cannot answer this question, you may be sure, friend brush, that there are not many people living who can. however, here the rascals are; and what do you think they have been endeavouring to do ever since they came? why, they have been trying to destroy all the rats that had possession of the country before their arrival; and as these old english black rats, as they are called from their colour, are smaller and weaker than themselves, i dare say that they will at last succeed in their wicked designs. so as this vile foreign brown rat is fond of living in the banks of ditches and of ponds, near mills and stables, he is often thought to be the same as the quiet respectable water-rat. for, as i say, the stupidity and ignorance of people is really amazing! why, the two animals are no more alike than you and i are, i was going to say; certainly not nearly so much alike, except in size, as yourself and the little gotobeds down below, there. no! these water friends of yours should never acknowledge the common rat as a cousin; but they are not very distantly related to a much more noble animal--to the _beaver_,[6] friend brush, though perhaps you have never heard of such a creature. [5] the common brown rat, which has now been an inhabitant of this island for about one hundred years, is often improperly called the "norway rat," as if it came originally from that country; whereas, it was quite unknown there when it first received that name. pennant believes that it was brought over in merchant-vessels from the east indies. it is even supposed, that the old english black rat, as it is called, is not originally a native of this island, as no mention is made of it in any author earlier than the middle of the sixteenth century. [6] the characters of the teeth, the form of the body, and the habits of the water-rat, fully justify its removal from the genus _mus_, to which the common rat belongs, and indicate a pretty close affinity to the beaver. linnã¦us himself appears struck with this, for though in his _systema naturã¦_ he has placed the water-rat in the genus _mus_, in a subsequent work he has removed it to that of _castor_. well, well, we must not expect too much from people who have never had an opportunity of learning. i could tell you a good deal about this relation of the water-rat, this clever fellow called the beaver, and about the famous wooden houses he makes of the trunks and branches of trees. but i declare i must fly home, and see how mrs. leatherwing is getting on. oh! stop a minute, though; i forgot one thing. perhaps _you_ don't believe that i can run on a level surface, or raise myself from it, as you may never have seen me do it. look here, then! so saying, the funny little creature made what he called a _run_, along the large branch upon which brush was seated, and at the end of this _run_ of two or three feet in length, he gave a sort of a little spring into the air, and instantly spreading his beautiful wings, he sailed away from the tree, saying, "good bye, brush! what d'ye think of that, eh?" but the squirrel did not return the farewell, for when he saw the very ridiculous manner in which his friend shuffled along, while he performed the feat which he called _running_, he was seized with such a fit of laughter that he could make no reply, and he was even obliged to hold fast, lest he should fall off the branch. when he had recovered from his merriment, he began to talk to himself, in an unusually grave and moralizing strain. "well, mr. leatherwing," said he, "you are an odd fellow, a very odd little fellow indeed! but i have learned something from you this evening, besides the information you gave me about those rats. i have learned that every animal has a different part to perform in the world, and that we all should be content with our situations, and not attempt to do things for which we were never intended. now i suppose nobody will deny that i can run and leap famously, so that i am quite at home among the boughs of this beautiful oak; but i cannot fly at all, and i believe i should be a very poor swimmer. then there is my neighbour, the water-rat, who can both dive and swim like a fish, but he can no more fly than myself, and i am sure he cannot leap half so well. as for old leatherwing, the _air_ is for him, and most delightful it must be to fly and sail about as he does. but then he must be content with _flying only_, for i think he would be much worse off in the water than i should, and when he attempts to run or to leap--ha! ha! what fun! i must go and tell mrs. brush all about that." chapter v. the important event upon which leatherwing had been in such haste to congratulate his friend, really took place in two days after the conversation just related. in other words, the joys and cares of our squirrels were increased by the presence of four young ones, as fine healthy little creatures as their hearts could desire. and i am sure that more attentive and affectionate parents than brush and his companion could not be found, even among the human race. for many days they made a point of never leaving the nest at the same time, for fear their tender family should suffer for want of their parents' warmth and protection. and though brush was naturally such a playful rattling fellow, you might have observed some difference in his behaviour, since he became the father of four helpless children. i mean, that he spent less time in play, and seldom rambled to any great distance from the oak-tree. so for a week or two our squirrels passed their time very sedately and quietly, taking care of their children, and watching with great delight their rapid growth from day to day. one evening, just before bed-time, brush was peering out at the entrance of his hole, as he often did before he curled himself up for the night, perhaps that he might see what sort of weather it was likely to be the next day. whatever his object might have been, he certainly _was_ looking out of his hole on this particular evening; when, casting his eyes down the valley, he perceived a small dark speck dancing about in the air, and as it drew nearer, and became more distinct, he saw that it was his friend leatherwing, coming to enjoy his favourite sport of gnat-catching, over the surface of the pond. "i feel rather sleepy," said brush, "but i have not seen the old fellow for some time, and i _must_ tell him what has happened since he was here last." so he ran out to the end of a branch, and when the bat came within hail he begged him to stop for a few minutes' chat. now, though leatherwing was very hungry, and his game was abundant, yet his love of a little gossip was so great, that it overcame his dislike to the feeling of an empty stomach, and he was just going to alight on the branch, by the side of his friend, when he suddenly called out in a voice of extreme terror, "back, friend brush! run back to your hole directly! back, you foolish fellow, or the cruel wild-cat will have you!" [illustration: the wild-cat. page 99.] horrible! the monstrous wild-cat, the british tigress as she has been called, was in the tree indeed! she was crouching down on a neighbouring branch, between the squirrel and the nest, preparing herself for the fearful spring, by that peculiar wriggling motion of the hinder part of the body which you may often have observed in your favourite kitten, when she is just going to dart at the plaything you have kindly made for her amusement. at first sight of the monster, the poor little squirrel was so terrified that he had no power to move, for her great savage eyes were fixed upon him, and sent forth a horrible greenish coloured light, which seemed to have the effect of preventing any attempt at escape. but he recovered himself at last, and it was well for him that he did so; for hardly, by means of a tremendous spring, had he reached a distant bough, when his fierce pursuer, who must have leaped at the same instant, alighted on the very spot he had just quitted. and now between these two animals, so unequally matched in strength and size, you might have seen a most exciting and hardly contested race; the squirrel doing his utmost to secure his safety, by reaching his hole, and the wild-cat following with terrible eagerness, in hopes of obtaining a most delicate and favourite morsel for her supper. had they both started fairly, i think that the fierce beast would have had no chance of overtaking her prey; but, as i have mentioned, she was between the squirrel and his fortress when the chase began, so that he could not run at once to his only place of refuge. poor brush! he was hardly pressed indeed, and several times, when he found his retreat to his hole cut off, he gave himself up for lost. he owed his safety at last, not to his wonderful agility alone, but also to his _lightness_, which enabled him to pass over the smaller branches that would have bent or broken with the weight of his enemy. to keep you no longer in suspense, you must know, then, that the poor breathless terrified squirrel reached his hole at last, and no sooner was he safe within it, than an immense paw, furnished with terribly sharp, hooked claws, was thrust in as far as it could reach, and brush could see the light of those horrid, yellow-green eyes, gleaming in upon him through the narrow opening. he even fancied he could smell her hot tainted breath, as she growled with rage and disappointment. "baulked, mrs. wild-cat! exactly three seconds too late, mrs. tabby! yes, madam, if you had reached the hole only three seconds earlier, you would have made a very nice supper of poor brush, and his nest would that night have contained a sorrowful widow and four fatherless children. a little too late, i am happy to say, mrs. tabby! only a very little too late, but 'a miss is as good as a mile,' as people say. what! you are in a terrible rage now, are you? and you will growl, and spit, and try to thrust your great ugly head into a hole only just large enough for the slender body of brush to pass easily through it. there! you may do your worst, and when you have tired yourself, you may go and look for a supper elsewhere, only i cannot possibly wish that good luck may attend upon your hunting. one thing i _squirrels_ wish though, that harvey was under the tree just now with his gun. well, never mind! your time will come, i dare say." yes, the squirrel had escaped from his terrible enemy for that time. he and his family were safe as long as they remained in their castle, and they had still sufficient food in their hoard to stand a pretty long siege, though i cannot tell what they would have done for want of water. but then how miserable it would be, to be kept close prisoners for days, or even weeks; for how could they ever be certain that their enemy was not still in the neighbourhood, or perhaps lying in wait for them behind some branch of their own oak-tree? truly a very pitiable situation indeed! it is wonderful how we become accustomed to dangers of all kinds, and yet those who have often risked their lives in battle will tell you, that this is really the case. in his first trial the young soldier will perhaps be so terribly frightened that nothing but the certainty of being disgraced prevents his running away. but after some years spent amid dangers, the coward becomes by degrees a bold fellow, who can hear bullets whistle around him, and see bright steel flash before his eyes, if not with indifference, at least, with perfect coolness and steadiness. but what has all this about soldiers to do with the poor prisoners in the oak tree? there does not appear to be much connexion between the two subjects, certainly; but i was going to say that our _squirrels_ resembled _soldiers_ in one respect. i mean, that _they_ became rather more courageous by being accustomed to live in continual danger. for the first day or two after the chase, they were afraid to venture more than a few yards from the nest; but they rambled further by degrees, though, whenever they returned to the oak, they took care to stop in a tree at a little distance, that they might see if the enemy was not lying in ambush for them near the hole. in this manner many days passed, and they were beginning to hope that the wild-cat had quite left the neighbourhood, when they had a conversation with leatherwing about this dreadful animal. it was really surprising what a vast deal of information this funny little fellow had picked up; but, perhaps, as he said himself, his having lived so much in towns and villages, where he could overhear the conversation of man, might partly account for his cleverness. from him the squirrels learned that these terrible wild-cats were formerly very common in the neighbouring forests,[7] but that for many years they had been gradually diminishing in numbers, and it was now almost certain that the fierce beast which had caused them so much alarm, was the last of her race in that part of the country. wild-cats are always much larger than the tame animals, but this creature was one of the largest that had ever been seen or heard of. she was really a formidable beast, and since she had taken up her abode in the neighbourhood, she had done a great deal of mischief to the farmers by killing their poultry, and even their young lambs. she had often been chased by the gamekeepers and others, but long experience had made her so watchful and cunning, that she had always escaped with her life, though she had sometimes smarted a little from a few shot penetrating her skin. but her fur was so thick and close that small shot could not injure her much, unless fired from a very short distance, and she took care that her enemies should not approach too near. [7] the wild-cat is now almost, if not quite extinct in england, except in the northern parts. it is still, however, to be met with in scotland, ireland, and wales. but the numbers of these animals that have been killed in different parts of the country have no doubt been much over-rated, as it is well known that the domestic cat will sometimes stray into the woods, bringing forth its young there, living on birds and small quadrupeds, and becoming a terrible destroyer of game. when, therefore, one of these half-wild cats happens to resemble the true wild-cat in colour, (which is an indistinct tabby,) it is at once pronounced to be a specimen of that animal. but mr. bell, (who, however, differs from almost all other naturalists on this point,) considers that the native wild-cat of britain is quite a distinct species from the domestic cat, and that the latter does not owe its origin to the wild animal at all, though from what country the breed has been derived he is at a loss to determine. such dreadful tales did leatherwing relate of the extraordinary cunning and fierceness of this hideous animal! when he had finished, the squirrels became so terrified that they ran and hid themselves in their snug retreat, declaring to each other that they never should be happy till they were sure that the monster had been killed. they were particularly uneasy too about their young ones, who were now grown so strong that they were able to leave the nest; but their parents never allowed them to go out of their sight, or to ramble beyond the branches of the oak. one day brush said to his partner, "well, this is miserable work! i declare i have no peace night or day, but am always thinking or dreaming about this horrid wild-cat; i almost wish i had never been born, or at least, that i had been a water-rat, or, better still, that curious fellow called a mole, that leatherwing talked to me about once." "and where does this mole live?" said mrs. brush. "why, he spends almost all his life under the ground, and though it must be very dark and damp there, he is at least safe from being eaten up by wild beasts. he makes famous long caverns, branching out from each other and in one place he has a very comfortable nest, lined with dry grass and leaves, and among the roots of some tree he makes what leatherwing called his fortress, because he always goes there when he is frightened. and all these nice places are safe under the ground. oh! i really wish i was a mole! the wild-cat might come as soon as she pleased, then." "i think she would scratch the earth up with her great claws, and pull you out of your fortress, as you call it." "how could she? why there are i don't know how many caverns, all leading from the fortress, and i could easily escape by one or other of them. then i could dig through the earth a great deal faster than she could, if i were a mole; for leatherwing says, that his fore-feet are amazingly large and strong. oh! ten times stronger than mine! then he never goes to sleep much more in the winter than in the summer, for when the ground is frozen hard, all he has to do is to dig down a little deeper, till he finds the earth soft; so he never cares what sort of weather it is, and he has no need to trouble himself about laying up a store of provisions for the winter. oh! it must be very nice to be a mole!" "i should be afraid that my eyes would be filled with dust and dirt, when i was digging under the ground." "_your_ great staring eyes would, i dare say, but the mole's are very different. they are so small, and covered over with fur, that he is sometimes thought to be quite blind.[8] for, as leatherwing says, people _are_ so stupid and ignorant! but i believe the mole's little eyes are not often of much use to him, for he seldom comes out of his caverns, and when he does it is at night. i think he would be much wiser to keep _always_ under ground, and then he would be quite safe. i asked old leatherwing how the mole could find out his food, as he always lives in the dark, and he said that his nose is more useful to him than his eyes, for he can smell anything at a great distance." [8] that acute observer, aristotle, has been accused of inaccuracy, in saying, that the mole is absolutely blind. it has, however, been ascertained that in the south of europe there exists another species of mole, the eyelids of which are _totally closed_, and it was probably this animal that fell under the observation of aristotle. the mole has never been found in any part of ireland. "and what can he find to eat under ground, i should like to know?" "horrible! i forgot all about that when i wished to be a mole. his food, i can hardly bear even to talk about it! he lives almost entirely on _worms_! horrid, long, twining worms! oh! i had rather be hunted by the wild-cat every day, than eat such disgusting food as that. no, no, i don't wish to change places with the mole now, i am sure." so as brush had neither the inclination nor the power to be transformed into a worm-devourer, he was obliged to be content with his situation as a _nut-cracker_. chapter vi. time passed rapidly on, and the autumn drew near. the young squirrels were now become so strong and active, and so fond of scampering about, that their parents could hardly prevent them from rambling away by themselves much further than was safe for them. one morning brush was almost certain that he had seen their terrible enemy in a distant tree, and as his children happened to be unusually frolicsome just then, and determined to have their own way, he thought he would try to keep them at home, by relating a little story which he had heard at different times, from leatherwing. the old fellow said, that, one evening, as he was flying about in a garden, he observed a very young lady sitting in a summer-house, holding in her hand the smallest mouse he had ever seen, fastened by a string and a leather collar round its neck. so, as the bat was of a very inquisitive, prying disposition, he hung himself up to the ceiling of the summer-house, determined to overhear the conversation that was going on below. it appeared that the mouse was relating his adventures to his mistress. now to tell you the truth, this little history has no connexion with the other parts of my tale; so if you are in a very great hurry to get to the end of the book, you can skip it altogether, but i hope you will not behave so rudely to a poor author, who has really done his best to entertain his readers. leatherwing's tale was called- some passages in the life of the smallest quadruped in the world.[9] [9] when this was written, i was not aware that there existed in other countries a quadruped still more diminutive than our little harvest-mouse. however, as "minimus" declares that he was much smaller than others of his species, the title of his history may still be correct. "don't push and squeeze so tiney! you take up more room than three or four of us." "what a story! it is you softsides, that want to have half the nest for yourself." "yes," squeaked sister sleek, "and he has almost scratched my poor eye out,--the cross creature! only because i asked him to let me suck when he had had enough, and he knew how dreadfully thirsty i was." "be quiet children, will you?" said mamma; "and let me go to sleep. you forget what a terrible headache i have, and how tired i am with running away from that frightful weasel that chased me almost to death this morning. i should like to know what you would have done if he had caught me! now mind! if i hear any more quarrelling, as surely as a grain of wheat has a husk, i will kick some of you out of the nest, and let the weasel or the owl make a meal of you." this little specimen of a family quarrel, which took place when my brothers and sisters and myself were a few days old, and were not so large as hazel-nuts, is the earliest circumstance of my life of which i have any recollection. at this time we were eight in number, and though all of the same age, i was much the smallest and weakest of the brood, for which reason i suppose they called me "mini-mus," or "the little mouse." my brothers and sisters despised me so for my poor health, and were so cross and tyrannical, that i verily believe i should have perished in infancy if my mother had not taken pity on me, and allowed me to suck sometimes out of my turn. the truth is, i was rather a favourite with my dear mamma; why, i cannot imagine, for i was a miserable looking little object, and was often very cross and rude to her. but since i have seen more of the world, i find that mothers of your species, my dear mistress, often show the strongest attachment to those children who are the most worthless in mind and body, and the least deserving of their affection. well! thanks to my dear mother's care, i got through my infancy pretty well, though i am still much smaller than the rest of my family. but if you could have seen my poor brother softsides! oh, he was a noble animal! will you believe it? he was nearly twice my size, and such a runner and leaper! he made nothing of jumping up to our nest at one bound, without taking the trouble to climb up in the usual way. but i must leave softsides for the present, and tell you what sort of a house our careful mother had provided for us. it was built on the top of a thistle at a little distance from the ground, and was nicely sheltered from the wind and rain by a high close hedge. it was as round as a ball, and was made entirely of the blades of grass and small straws, carefully woven together like basket-work, while the inside was as smooth and warm as possible; for there was only one very small opening, and even that was closed at night, and in the daytime when the weather was cold. a most delightfully warm, snug house it was, i assure you; but as we increased in size, it became rather too small for us, and, as i have already mentioned, we sometimes squabbled a little for want of room. indeed i once heard mamma saying to herself, when she thought we were all asleep, "well, if i had known that i should have had such a large family i would have built a bigger house." now you must know that she was only one year old herself, and we were her first brood of young ones. but though this was the first nest she had ever made, she had shown great judgment in choosing a situation, which was not, as is usually the case with our tribe, in a corn-field, where both the nests and the inhabitants are often destroyed by the reapers. fearful of this dreadful disaster, our mother had built her nest on a grassy bank, in an unfrequented meadow, in which there was no public path, and where a few quiet sheep were our only companions. the field adjoining ours was a wheat-field, and so we had an abundant supply of food on the other side of the hedge. for the first week or two we never left the nest; but mamma soon began to feed us with seeds, and when our teeth were too weak to nibble hard grains, she brought us the soft, unripe wheat, which was delicious juicy food for tender infants. never shall i forget the terrible fright i was in the first time i ventured to leave the nest, and clamber down the thistle-stalk to the ground! my brothers and sisters had been down the day before, and laughed at my timidity; and then they boasted that they had scrambled up the bank, and looked through the hedge, into the wheat-field, where they had seen the reapers at work; and they told me that they had been terribly frightened by the barking of a large dog. but softsides said that _he_ was not frightened a bit, and that he only came back to the nest because he wanted his dinner; and he declared that he would fight the dog the next time he saw him. then they told me that they had seen a little girl in the wheat-field, gathering flowers, and that they had heard her sing most divinely--something about "trip with me," and "the moon shining bright." and softy said that he had learned part of the song, and that if we would give over prating so, and would listen to him, he would sing it as sweetly as the little girl did. so he sat up on his hinder parts, and began, "trip with me, trip with me," but he made such a funny whistling noise through his long front teeth, that we all laughed till we cried. then brother softsides was angry, and bit my ear till i cried most bitterly, without laughing at all. the next day, with the help of mamma, i managed to get down to the ground, and to climb up the bank; and in the wheat-field was the little girl again, singing her pretty song, and gathering wild-flowers in the hedge. but either because she had had more practice in singing than softy, or because her front teeth were not so long as his, her performance was much more pleasing, to my ears at least, and i did not feel at all inclined to laugh at her. presently, another little girl, who had been all the morning gleaning, came up to her, crying, and complaining that somebody had stolen a large bunch of wheat that she had collected and hid in a corner of the field. then we saw that the young lady with the sweet voice had a sweet disposition also, for she gave the little gleaner her last sixpence, and sent her home as happy as a bird. [illustration: the harvest-mice. page 134.] i was dreadfully tired with this expedition, and was quite lame for several days after, with a thorn in my left hind-foot, but at last mamma sucked it out for me. when it got well, i took courage to leave the nest again, and joined my brothers and sisters in their games of play, among the high grass, at the foot of the thistle, while mamma would sit on the nest, keeping watch lest some enemy should approach. as we became stronger and more courageous, we rambled further from home, and when the distance was not too great, i generally joined the party. all my family were now very kind to me, and i hope that i was less pettish in my behaviour to them, for mamma had convinced us how silly and wicked it is for brothers and sisters to quarrel with each other. and now i must tell you of the dreadful fate of brother softsides. poor fellow! he was very vain of his running and leaping abilities, and at last he perished miserably by his rashness. one fine afternoon, when we were more than half grown, softsides, tiney, and sleek set off for a very long ramble along the hedge, nearly to the bottom of the field. i was too weak to join the party, but sister sleek gave me a particular account of this unfortunate expedition. softy was in very high spirits, and was trying to make tiney lay wagers of so many grains of corn, about the distance he could leap. fine fun they had, jumping and tumbling about; but at last they came to a place where some labourers had been dining, and had left a basket, with bread and cheese in it, and a small keg of beer, or cider. our party made a glorious meal on the cheese, which was quite new food to them; and then softsides said he would try to leap on to the keg, to enjoy the beautiful prospect. but sister sleek begged him not to make the attempt, saying that she was sure he would come to some mischief if he did. now i must tell you, that sleek, though very demure and quiet in her manners, was considered to be much the most sensible of all our family; and indeed mamma, who was confined at home that day by a sprained ankle, had made her join this exploring party, in the hopes that she would keep the boys out of mischief. "now what harm can there possibly be in trying to jump on to this keg, i should like to know?" said softsides; "but sister sleek, or _meek_, if you like that name better, you are always spoiling my fun." "you may call me what name you like, softy," replied his sister, "but i feel quite convinced in my own mind that if you don't take my advice, something dreadful will happen." and sure enough something dreadful did happen--something very dreadful indeed: for poor brother softsides, taking a run of about a couple of feet, jumped on to the fatal keg, pretty easily, but, alas! he never jumped down again! for the heat of the sun had forced the bung out, though we could not see this from the ground. poor softy saw it, when too late, for he could not save himself from tumbling down headlong into the keg, where he was soon drowned, while his brother and sister were horrified by hearing him screaming for assistance, which they could not possibly give him, and lamenting that he had not taken sleek's advice. so tiney and his sister came back, frightened and sorrowful enough, and our cheerful home became a house of mourning. mamma was in hysterics all night, and i verily thought we should have lost her. but sister sleek, who knew something of the virtues of herbs, sent two of the boys into the wheat-field for a red poppy-head, which she persuaded mamma to eat, and soon after she became quiet, and slept all the next day and night. then we were terribly afraid that she had taken so much of this powerful medicine that she would never wake again; and though sleek said that she was not at all alarmed, i am sure she seemed very nervous and agitated, till at last our dear mother opened her eyes, and asked for some food. in one corner of our field was an old deserted stable, which we sometimes visited, partly for the sake of a few horse-beans which we found on the floor, and partly to have a chat with a very odd creature who had taken up his abode there, and with whom we had formed a sort of acquaintance. this creature was an immense _toad_, a very strange companion, you will say, for a family of little mice. certainly, he _was_ an odd fellow, and a very ugly fellow too; but then he had the most beautiful eyes in the world, and i am sure he gave us very good advice, if we had been wise enough to have attended to it, instead of laughing at his croaking voice, and formal manner of talking. the first time we visited the hermit, as we called him, after the loss of our brother, we were almost afraid to tell him of the accident, expecting he would say that poor softsides was rightly served, and that we should all perish like him, by our folly, if we did not pay a little more attention to the advice of our elders. but toady had a more feeling heart than you would have supposed from his manners and appearance, and when he had heard the sad tale to an end, and we were expecting a terrible lecture, he closed his searching eyes for a minute or two, and then said, "children, i commiserate your distress. my spirit is pained, yea, what if i say, sorely troubled and grieved, at this sad catastrophe! unfortunate softsides! truly he was a handsome juvenal, and active of limb withal. know, my children, that he found favour in my sight, more especially inasmuch as i have sometimes thought that i resembled him not a little, both in feature and disposition, in the joyous days of my youth. leave me now to meditate for a season upon this grievous visitation. in that corner you will find a few beans which i have collected for you. peradventure, when you have finished them, i may relate some little tale or fable for your amusement. yea, and for your instruction also, if you will receive it." so when we had finished the luncheon which the good hermit had provided for us, we seated ourselves around the entrance of his hole, when, after a few minutes' recollection, and his usual preparation for a speech, by closing his eyes for a time, he related the following fable of the sunflower and the mignionette. a gigantic sunflower reared his many-headed stem very far above all the other plants in the parterre, and affected not a little to despise their lowly condition and insignificance. a bed of mignionette, which grew close to him, particularly excited the anger of this arrogant fellow. and "what," exclaimed he, "could the stupid gardener be thinking of, when he planted such miserable, little half-starved wretches as you in the same border as a kingly sunflower! does not my very name declare my rank and noble origin, in token whereof, i never fail to pay my respects to the glorious lord of the skies, by turning my head towards him, whenever he deigns to remove the misty veil from his countenance? but as for you---by the by, do you ever mean to blossom, or have you the vanity to say, that those yellowish tufts (which at this height i can hardly distinguish from leaves) deserve the name of flowers? ridiculous! i have a great mind to say, that if the mistress of this garden does not remove you, and some other of your vulgar companions, a little further off, i won't expand another blossom this summer; i'll kill myself in spite! i will, i declare!" the mignionette plants were so diverted at this threat, that for some time they could not reply to his abusive speech. at length one of them quietly said, "vain babbler! to be angry at thy impertinence would prove that we were as silly as thyself. but know this, thou empty-pated, and worthless one,--though mean in appearance, and dwarfish in stature, we are nevertheless especial favourites with our mistress, who is so delighted with the rich perfume of our 'yellowish tufts,' as thou hast the impertinence to call them, that she frequently honours them with a place in her bosom. flowers must be very scarce before any of thy huge gaudy-coloured blossoms attain to that envied situation, i trow. but thy pride will soon be humbled, for yesterday i overheard our mistress complaining of thy encroaching shade, and directing the gardener to root thee up, and cast thee forth, to rot like a vile weed upon the dunghill, that the more humble inhabitants of the flower-bed may benefit by the life-bestowing rays of that being whom we all worship, though we are not honoured, like thyself, by bearing his name. lo! while i speak, the gardener draweth near with his spade, and thy destruction is at hand." * * * * * our hermit was explaining to us how we might derive instruction from this fable, when suddenly a fierce weasel and a half-grown young one bounced in through the open doorway; but fortunately for us poor little mice they did not see us for half a minute, and this delay enabled the worthy toady to save our lives. scrambling out of his hole, with a great deal more activity than could be expected in such a corpulent old gentleman, he exclaimed, "enter speedily, my children!" for once we followed his advice, without asking for a reason why; but we had hardly time to take refuge, when mother weasel espied the last tail whisking into the hole, and screeching out to her son, "a prey! a prey! i thought i smelt mice!" at a single bound she reached the entrance. she was too late, for our protector had backed his fat body into the hole, which he fitted so exactly, that the smallest beetle could hardly have passed him. "friend weasel," said he, "i dispute not that thou mayst have _smelt_ mice, but this day shalt thou _taste_ none, if my protection availeth anything. verily, it appeareth to me that for once in thy life thou art baulked." now you must know that most animals are rather afraid to attack a toad, believing that he is a magician, and has the power of injuring his enemies by spitting at them. whether this be true or not i cannot say, but i am sure that our friend was the most quiet, inoffensive creature on earth. but mrs. weasel seemed to think differently, for bounding away towards the door-way, she said to her son, "come along, my boy! my nose tells me that they are nothing but little miserable harvest-mice. let us try if we cannot meet with some of the great fat field-mice in the wheat-field, they are six times as large as these little wretches. for my part i am not at all hungry, but 'tis glorious fun hunting them to death." but there was another animal close at hand, who was also very fond of hunting, and for the same reason; because he thought it was "_glorious fun_." this was the little terrier dog "pepper," whose master, farmer winter, had come into the meadow that morning, to see how his sheep were getting on. now it so happened that "pep" took it into his random head to visit the stable, and he entered exactly as mistress and master w. were going out. of course our situation prevented us from witnessing this interesting meeting, but we heard a scuffle, and two loud squeaks, which our protector, who saw the whole affair from the mouth of his den, informed us were the last sounds ever uttered by the long-backed mother and son. but though pepper had kindly shaken our enemies to death, we did not like to trust ourselves in his power, thinking that he would most likely serve us in the same manner; so we remained quietly in the hole, till our kind friend had seen that the coast was clear, and then, having thanked him for his protection, we ran home as fast as possible. we passed by the dead bodies of the weasels, and found that they were much handsomer animals than we had supposed, for though their backs were ridiculously long, their colours were very pretty; a beautiful reddish brown on the upper parts, but underneath they were as white as snow, or as your frock, my dear mistress. the hermit informed us afterwards, that they are the boldest animals for their size in the world, and that they will sometimes kill even young rabbits and hares. he said, that when a weasel attacks an animal so much larger than himself, he sticks fast to his neck, and though the poor creature runs away, he cannot get rid of his tormentor, but is soon exhausted and killed. toady said, he once saw a weasel seized by a kite, and carried up into the air. after a little while, however, the bird began to fly very oddly, as if in pain, and at last fell down quite dead, close to the spot where the hermit was sitting. while he was in the air the weasel had killed the kite by gnawing a great hole in his side. so they both came down together, but the conqueror was not at all injured by his fall. after our fortunate escape, nothing worth relating occurred till the day i was caught by that cruel boy from whose hands you so kindly rescued me. being now nearly full grown our mother allowed us to take care of ourselves in the daytime, but she made two of my sisters and myself sleep in the nest with her at night. one morning, wishing to see a little of the world, i set off by myself across the meadow, intending to visit a pleasant little wood we could just see from the bank above our house. but i had hardly reached the middle of the field, when a tremendous hail-storm came on. oh! what a dreadful predicament i was in! the sheep had eaten down the grass so close that it gave me no shelter whatever, neither could i find any hole or crack to creep into, till the storm was over. so i made the best of my way back again, though dreadfully bruised by the hail-stones, and at last a very heavy one struck me such a blow on the top of my head, that i was quite stunned; and i can remember nothing more, till i found myself in the hands of your papa's stable-boy, tom. he had picked me up, when looking for mushrooms in the meadow, and thought perhaps that i should make a nice breakfast for his kitten. but when he found me come to life again, he said he would tame me, and make me draw a little pasteboard cart to amuse his sister jenny. you cannot think how cruelly he used me, and how he made my lips bleed by forcing an iron bit into my mouth. and then he almost killed me by trying to make me swallow raw meat, which is a sort of food none of our species can abide. truly, i should never have lived to have related this history, if you had not come into the stable-yard to see the young rabbits. most fortunately for me, you were singing your favourite song. i remembered the words and the sweet clear voice instantly, and i said to myself, "perhaps the young lady that was so kind to the little gleaner, may have compassion on a poor harvest-mouse." you know the rest: i squeaked with all my might; you heard me, and soon persuaded tom to give up his prize in exchange for a dozen fine apples from your own little tree. and now, my dear kind mistress, will you not fulfil your promise, and give me my liberty? i have been very happy with you, but i long exceedingly to return to the beautiful green bank again, and to see dear mamma, who must be dreadfully anxious about me, for it is now six days since i left the nest. hold me up to your face, and let me read my fate in your beautiful eyes, which i declare are almost as bright and dark as my mother's. bring me closer, quite close, for i am rather near-sighted. that will do. oh joy! i see by those sweet sparklers, that my petition is granted, and that i shall sleep to-night by my mother's side in the downy nest on the thistle. * * * * * when this history was finished, leatherwing said, that the little girl pressed her captive to her lips, and then, putting on her straw hat, she immediately walked out into the fields, with minimus perched upon her hand. chapter vii. it was now the season for collecting nuts, acorns, and beech-mast; and it was time that the squirrels attended to the important business of filling their several storehouses with a supply of provisions for the winter. now their own oak would furnish acorns for hundreds of squirrels, and some beech-trees, laden with mast, were close at hand; but in order to procure hazle-nuts, their favourite food, it was necessary to go rather further from home. the nearest spot where the business of nutting could be carried on with much success, was a large hazel-copse, on the side of a hill, at the upper end of the valley. but the great difficulty was, how to obtain these nuts without risking their lives. for since the appearance of the wild-cat in the neighbourhood the squirrels had always avoided the thick bushes and underwood, knowing that she could more easily surprise them there, than among the open branches of large trees. even in the trees they were very careful to look well about them, as they fully believed that the enemy was still in the neighbourhood, for leatherwing, who had promised to give them early information, could hear no account of her having been killed. indeed, he had very lately overheard a farmer complaining to a neighbour, that the night before, he had had three fine lambs killed, and several others sadly mangled by this destructive wild beast. but to pass the tedious winter without a supply of nuts appeared as great a hardship to the squirrels as it would be to us to live for several months upon bread and water. therefore, after several consultations on the subject, it was at length agreed, that _nuts they would have_, at all hazards; for said brush, "better to be eaten up by the wild-cat than starved." so one fine morning the whole party set off to the hazel-copse. now this reminds me of the happy hours i have myself passed in the woods, when i have joined a merry party of my young friends on one of those most joyful occasions, a _nutting expedition_. how can a day be passed more pleasantly? oh! the delight of gathering the lovely brown clusters of five or six, or even sometimes seven or eight together! then the dinner by the side of the clear stream, whose pure waters furnish not the least grateful part of the repast! and the notes of unrestrained merriment and joy, filling the woods with the echoes of sweet young voices! even the torn frocks, and scratched hands and arms, are disregarded; and they are such common attendants upon these joyous expeditions, that to return from them with perfectly whole garments and _skins_, would imply that the bag of nuts might have been heavier, if the party had been less fearful of the brambles and thorns. now for the squirrels again. the nuts were exactly in that state in which i like to find them--quite full and brown, and _almost_ ready to fall out of their husks. but not _quite_ ripe enough to do this, for then a great many are shaken out upon the ground, and lost. but the nuts were in perfection, and our party were employed the whole day in journeying backwards and forwards, between the hazel-copse and their storehouses in the old oak. no wild-cat or other enemy appeared, and the young squirrels began to think that their parents' continual cautions to be on the look out for this animal were unnecessary. the next day the party were again hard at work, and even the old squirrels were so busily employed in filling their own mouths, and in teaching their children how to select the ripest and soundest nuts, that they seemed almost to have forgotten that they had a single enemy in the world. they had already made several journeys, and were now eagerly engaged in some large old hazel-trees, close to a wide pathway, which had been cut through the wood for the convenience of the sportsmen. suddenly brush perceived, partly concealed among the thick underwood, a dark, fearful-looking object, which--_could_ it be the dreaded foe, or was it only the brown trunk of a tree? he was not long in doubt, for now the head of the monster appeared from among the leaves, and then those savage eyes! having once seen them how could he possibly mistake their terrible glances? brush was so frightened, that he absolutely allowed three remarkably fine nuts to fall out of his mouth upon the ground, and at last he gave the note of alarm. "fly all of you," cried he, "the enemy is close at hand!" then he recovered sufficient presence of mind to remember how he had himself escaped from his pursuer in the oak, and he desired his family to retreat to the small outer branches of the trees, where they would but just support their weight, for he knew that the young ones were too small and weak to make their escape by flight. but this clever plan did not succeed so well in these low nut-trees as among the lofty branches of the oak, where a tumble to the ground would most likely have broken some of the adversary's bones. the cunning beast appeared to understand the difference between the two situations, but for a minute or two she remained motionless, as if she were planning the best way of making her attack. at last, with a single bound she was in the tree. she fearlessly dashed at one of the young squirrels, who sat trembling at the farther end of a branch, overhanging the pathway; it gave way beneath her weight, and both animals fell to the ground below. but while the poor little squirrel was so shaken by the fall that he could only crawl slowly away, the cat, like all animals of her kind, pitched unhurt upon her feet,[10] and was just upon the point of seizing her prey in her terrible hooked claws, when bang!--the report of a gun from the adjoining thicket. [10] it is well known that cats have the power of turning themselves over in the air, so as to bring their legs undermost, when they fall, or are thrown, from a height; but how this desirable change of position is brought about or maintained, it is not very easy to explain. one would have supposed that the centre of gravity would have brought the _back_ undermost. to prove that these animals _do_ possess the power of turning over in the air, take a cat, or a kitten, and hold her by her four feet, two in each of your hands, with her back downwards, at about the height of the table from the ground. now if you open both your hands suddenly, your assistant in the experiment will change her position almost as quickly as a shuttlecock turns round when struck by the battledore, and will alight safely on her feet. but if you hold her at a _very short_ distance from the ground, poor puss will not have time to execute her clever feat, and will fall on her back. therefore, for her sake, practise this experiment _over a bed_. here i must inform you, that harvey, the gamekeeper, who had long been looking out for the destroyer, had this morning been informed by some boys who were nutting in the copse, that they had seen her running across an open space, with a fine cock pheasant in her mouth. now the keeper had found, from his experience on two former occasions, that it was useless to fire small shot at an animal who had such a defence in her thick close fur, and who was too wary to allow him to approach very near. therefore, giving his double-barrelled fowling-piece into the hands of his son, a lad of about fourteen, who accompanied him, he armed himself with a _rifle_, which is a gun made on purpose for throwing bullets very accurately, to a long distance. he left all his dogs at home, thinking they would be of more harm than use. harvey and his boy had already been some hours in the wood, and were beginning to think that they had received false information, when young dick, who was a remarkably sagacious, intelligent fellow, suddenly stopped his father, and pointed to some trees at a little distance. "well, lad," whispered harvey, "what dost see now?" "look at those squirrels, father!" "i see 'em plain enough, but it won't do. though if it wasn't for master's orders, i should like to try the rifle upon one of 'em, i must say." "no, no, father," replied dick, "that isn't what i mean. but only look at them! they aint eating, nor doing nothing, but they have all got their heads one way, and they stick themselves up as if they were frightened at something. depend upon it, father, the wild-cat isn't far from those squirrels, if she is in the wood at all." "_i see!_" replied his father: "that's as bright a thought as ever came into thy head, son dick! but we have no chance among these plaguy thick bushes. we must creep quietly out into the path, and then perhaps we may get a shot at the varmint." so the two cat-hunters concealed themselves behind a tree, by the side of the path, and just as the wild-cat was pouncing upon her prey, a ball from the keeper's well-directed rifle laid her howling upon the ground, with the bone of her hind-leg smashed to atoms. but he who supposes that one of these ferocious animals is conquered merely because her leg is broken, will find himself very much mistaken. a wild-cat conquered! no, indeed! you may kill her, but she _never yields_, so long as she has any life remaining. and so harvey found to his cost. for when he saw the animal rolling upon the ground, supposing her to be mortally wounded, he ran up towards her, intending to finish the affair with a blow from the butt end of his rifle. now this imprudent conduct proved that he had never encountered a wounded wild-cat before. no sooner had he approached within a few yards of her, than, regardless of her broken leg, she sprang upon him like a fury, and before he could aim a blow at her, she was at his throat, with her fore-legs clasped round his neck. frightful! only imagine the horrors of such an embrace! in vain poor harvey strove with all his might to cast off the savage creature from him, and i cannot tell how the affair might have ended, if dick had not been at hand to render assistance. waiting for a favourable opportunity, he put the muzzle of his gun close to the creature's body, and firing both barrels at once, in his eagerness to do the business effectually, he made such a terrible hole in her side, that, if she had had nine hundred lives, instead of the usual moderate number of nine, they would all have taken flight through the wound in an instant. she fell to the ground, a mangled, blackened corpse. and how did poor harvey escape? better than could have been expected, considering the powerful teeth and claws of his adversary. to be sure, he was pretty severely bitten and scratched, but his wounds were not dangerous; and when he had recovered his breath, and wiped the blood from his face, the first thing he did was to stretch his vanquished foe at her full length upon the ground. then laying his rifle by her side, he said to dick, "she's full four feet long, if she's an inch, and i have gained my wager! i laid a bet of a guinea, with lord what's-his-name's keeper, that she would turn out to be four feet long, and so she is, and more, as i can tell by the length of this barrel. but only look at her teeth, dick, and her terrible claws!" "and what a great bushy tail!" said dick, rubbing it through his hands; "and see, father, 'tis the same size from end to end, and quite black at the tip, just as that learned stranger gentleman up at the hall said that all real wild-cats were." "a learned gentleman! let me tell thee, son dick, if thee hadst had thy face and hands clawed to pieces like mine are, thee wouldst have said the varmint was _wild_ enough, in all conscience, without waiting for any _learned gentleman_ to tell thee so. how my face do smart to be sure! and look at my new jacket! all burnt and torn to pieces! 't was a wonder my arm wasn't blown off too. well, boy, 't was a bold shot, and i can't tell what i should have done if somebody hadn't been by. but come, throw the beast over thy shoulder. i must go home and get mother to put some plaister on these bites and scratches." at the very beginning of this fierce conflict, all the squirrels, except the father of the family, fled from the scene of action, and in five minutes they were safe in the nest. but brush was so determined to see the end of the affair, that he remained concealed in the hazel-tree, till dick had fired the finishing shot; and then, being convinced that he had nothing more to fear from his old enemy, he scampered off to his home, to relate what he had seen. chapter viii. i have not much more to tell you about "squirrels and other animals," for by the time the tenants of the oak-tree had collected a good stock of provisions, the weather had become rather cold and dismal, and it seemed likely that the winter would set in very early that year. but the time for their long sleep was not yet quite arrived, and on fine days they were still to be seen abroad, roaming about from tree to tree, and sometimes bringing home a few more nuts and acorns. but to find these they were now obliged to search on the ground, for the wind had shaken the ripe fruit from the trees. now they were relieved from the dread of being seized by their terrible enemy, they could ramble about where they pleased. one day as they were rummaging about among the dry leaves, under the hazel-bushes, the squirrels fell in with the very oddest creature they had ever seen. they had heard from leatherwing that such an animal lived in the woods, but they did not think they should ever meet with him, as the bat had told them that he never came abroad till it was dark. but the old fellow was mistaken a little for once in his life, for here this most extraordinary looking creature certainly was, in the middle of the day.[11] from the description brush had received of this animal, he knew at once that he was one _touchmenot_, a hedgehog; and that though he was considered to be rather a queer-tempered fellow, he was not likely to do him any harm. but the young squirrels and their mother were so frightened at his very warlike appearance, that they leaped up into the bushes overhead. [11] i can bear witness, that hedgehogs are not always nocturnal animals, having more than once seen them running about in the daytime, and i remember capturing one that was trotting across the corner of a field when the mid-day sun was shining brightly. and if the hedgehog occasionally kills snakes, as mr. bell informs us, how can he meet with these animals by night, when they are invariably safe in their holes? [illustration: the squirrel and the hedgehog. page 189.] brush remained on the ground, but his family observed that he took care to keep close to the stem of a small tree, for he thought that if his new acquaintance should become uncivil, he could not possibly climb up after him. after the two animals had looked at each other for some time in silence, touchmenot began the conversation. * * * * * touchmenot. well! what d'ye stare at? what d'ye want? never saw me before, eh? hope you will remember me when we meet again, for you have looked at me long enough, i am sure, with those great black eyes of yours. oh! don't be frightened! you may stare at me till you are blind for all i care. i'm not ashamed of myself. oh dear no! well, now you have examined me pretty well, who d'ye think i am, eh? brush, (_rather frightened at the surly address of the stranger_). i believe you are called mr. touchmenot, are you not, sir? touchmenot. touchmenot, indeed! what fool told you that? well, i don't care, they may call me so if they please. ha! ha! no bad name neither! _touch me not_, i advise you, or you will smart for it! so _that's_ the name they give me, is it? oh, with all my heart! and what else have you heard about me, mr. greateyes? brush. oh, nothing very particular. yes, now i recollect, i have heard that you have got a very odd way of defending yourself, by rolling up into a ball, when you see any animal coming that you think is an enemy. touchmenot. that i _think_ is an enemy? i consider _all_ animals my enemies. except my own family, i don't believe i have a friend in the world. my comfort is, that i am very well able to take care of myself; and yet i can neither fly like a bird, nor run like a hare, nor swim like a fish, nor leap like yourself. no, i can do none of these; but i can _roll up_, and so set all my enemies at defiance; and i had half a mind to have done so when i first saw you, but it was hardly worth while, for you are much smaller than i am, and, besides, to tell you the truth, you look rather like a good-tempered fellow. now what other tales have you heard about my doings? brush. why if you wont be angry, i was going to say, though i didn't believe it at the time, but i _have_ heard it said that you are _rather fond of milk_, and don't mind sucking the farmers' cows sometimes. touchmenot. so you have heard that ridiculous story, have you? well, you say you don't believe it, so i sha'n't take the trouble to prove what a monstrous fib it is. now then, i'll tell you what i have heard about _you_. i have heard that you _are rather fond of nuts_, and that, not content with eating as many as you can possibly cram, you are such a glutton that you carry a great many home with you, on purpose to stuff yourself with in the winter. brush. well, and what harm? nuts are very wholesome food, i am sure. and don't _you_ lay up any store of provisions for the winter, then? touchmenot. not i, indeed! i am better employed in the winter than in eating. i sleep _all_ the winter, mr. nutcracker! when the weather gets a little colder, perhaps in a few days, i shall creep into my snug nest which i have made under the roots of a great tree. there i shall roll myself up, in my bed of dry leaves, and when once fairly asleep, i am safe till next spring. nothing can make _me_ wake up. what a fool i should be to trouble myself about collecting a quantity of food for the winter, when i am sound asleep all the time! brush. and what do you live upon, when you _are_ awake, if it isn't an unfair question? touchmenot. oh, i am not very particular. almost anything will do at a pinch. i often make a meal upon roots and vegetables, when i can find nothing else. but i like animal food much better, such as insects, worms, snails, bird's eggs, frogs, mice, and now and then i dine upon a snake when i can contrive to catch him. well! what's the matter now? what do you jump up into the tree for? brush. oh, shocking! i never heard anything so dreadful in my life! i beg your pardon. i mean, i should not like to dine upon snake at all. touchmenot. very likely not. tastes differ, you know. but here comes a gentleman who will most certainly _dine upon you_, if you don't get up a little higher into the tree; for though he can't climb, he is a pretty good leaper. for my part, i scorn to run away from any animal, large or small. stay where you are, and you will see some fun. * * * * * the animal that now approached was a hungry young fox, who would certainly have made a meal of the squirrel if he could have caught him. but after trying to reach him, by jumping till he was tired, he gave it up at last for a bad job; and then, spying the hedgehog, he dashed at him, as if he had intended to have swallowed him at a single mouthful. but touchmenot was quite prepared for the attack, for he had rolled himself up into a round ball, with nothing but sharp spines sticking out on every side; and when the fox attempted to seize his prey, you would have laughed to have seen how very much surprised and disappointed he looked. as he was but young, though he appeared more than half-grown, i suppose he had never seen a hedgehog before, or he would not have acted so imprudently, for he pounced upon this ball of spines as he would upon a rabbit, or a pheasant, but he soon found out his mistake, and retreated to a little distance, howling dismally, and licking his bleeding lips and nose. when he recovered a little from his surprise, he made another attempt. but now he proceeded more cautiously, and rolled old touchmenot over and over with his paws, hoping to find some part of him that was not protected by this spiny coat of armour. he could make nothing of it! this strange-looking ball was spines above, spines below--strong, sharp spines on every side. it was really very provoking, for it contained a nice meal inside, no doubt, if he could but get at it. after watching his vain attempts for some time, the squirrels saw that the fox had no chance of succeeding, and they made the best of their way home, keeping on the trees for fear he should leave touchmenot, and follow them instead. however, they had nothing to fear from this silly young fellow, for he seemed fully occupied in rolling this tiresome ball about, but how long he continued his amusement, i cannot tell. however, i must inform you, that the hedgehog boasted rather too much, when he said he could set _all_ his enemies at defiance, by his strange plan of defence; for though very few animals will venture to attack him when rolled up, it sometimes happens that a thoroughly game and courageous terrier-dog will seize him, and kill him too, in spite of his prickly armour. of course, his own lips and mouth must suffer severely from the animal's sharp spines. a week or two after the interview with the hedgehog, one very cold dismal afternoon, all the squirrels were in the nest, except the father of the family, and he was gone abroad for a short time, just to stretch his legs a little. suddenly he darted into the hole, as if he had been pursued by another wild-cat, and when he was asked what was the matter, he exclaimed, "_snow!_ cold, dismal _snow_! flakes of snow as large as white butterflies, and falling so thickly that i could hardly see my way back to the nest! here i am, however, and here i mean to stay till fine weather comes again. it will be a long while before that happens though, i fancy." brush was a true prophet. the weather became colder and colder every day, till at last, after a sharp frosty night, the squirrels quite forgot to wake up in the morning, and then their first long nap of several weeks began. if you could have looked in upon them in their comfortable nest, you could hardly have believed that the little curled up squirrels, with their blankets over their heads, were the same active, playful creatures, whose summer gambols among the branches had afforded you so much amusement. well, then, there _can_ be nothing more to say about these sleeping squirrels, and now i must inform you what effect the cold weather had upon the other animals, whose summer habits have been imperfectly described in this history. the dormice, in their nests at the bottom of the oak-tree, and the water-rats, in their holes in the bank of the pond, were sound asleep also; but all these animals had taken the precaution to provide a store of provisions for the early part of the spring, and in case they should wake up for a few days in the winter. now, with respect to the curious little water-shrew-mouse, velvet-coat, i am not quite so certain about his winter habits. but no doubt he slept comfortably in his hole till the spring; and as he was an insect-feeder, we may conclude that he followed the example of touchmenot, in not laying up any food for the winter. if we could have questioned old leatherwing, i think he would have told us that the harvest-mice, whose history he overheard related by minimus, abandoned their nest on the thistle, and made themselves a warmer house, deep under the ground, where they passed the cold weather in sleeping, and now and then nibbling the grains of wheat which they had buried with them. the bat has already related how he passed the winter himself, and how he was obliged to waste some part of it in sleep, not altogether from the effects of cold, but also from the want of food. chapter ix. though the history of the squirrels and their companions was finished in the last chapter, i still feel unwilling to part from my young friends, who have kindly taken some interest in the events i related for their amusement. it is true, that in the following tale no mention will be made of any of those "smaller british quadrupeds" of whose "habits and instincts" the title-page has engaged to communicate some information. but it is always better to do _more_ than _less_ than we have promised. therefore, perhaps you will not be displeased if this little book should contain something that you did not expect to find there, and i hope you will think this additional chapter not less entertaining than those you have already read. you may remember, that leatherwing related to the squirrel the history of minimus, or "some passages in the life of the smallest quadruped in the world." in the following pages, you will find a companion to the bat's story, and the title shall be, some passages in the life of the largest quadruped in the world! as inquisitive readers may perhaps wish to be informed by what means the following little history came into my possession, i will endeavour to satisfy them as to its authenticity, by telling them that it was related to me by an old man, a native of sumatra, in which island, "the largest quadrupeds in the world" are, or were, abundant in a wild state. this old fellow was cook on board the ship, "all's well," in which (fifty-three years ago,) i first went to sea as an apprentice, and he was called "jolly," but what his real name was no one on board knew nor cared. he was a merry-hearted old man, and had made himself a great favourite, especially with us boys, by his extraordinary abilities in "_spinning a good yarn_," as the sea-phrase goes, meaning neither more nor less than telling a good story. the following strange history was a favourite "yarn" of old jolly's; and though it is now more than half a century since i first heard it, it is still fresh in my memory, having so often related it to my little brothers, who, on my return home, were always very eager in their inquiries about "the doings of the dreadful wild-beasts of foreign countries." but i must mention, that our old friend jolly boasted of other accomplishments more extraordinary than story-telling, such as the art of foretelling future events, of understanding the language of birds and beasts, and he sometimes hinted, that he had the dangerous power of killing an enemy who might be five hundred leagues distant, by the performance of certain magical ceremonies. perhaps you are not disposed to believe that jolly was such a clever old fellow. well, i cannot help it. i have no time now to endeavour to convince you, but here is his story, though not in his own words, for if i had not corrected his bad english, the narrative would be almost unintelligible to those who were not accustomed to his extraordinary mixture of languages. * * * * * (jolly _begins his story_.) tell you about the elephants again? why, i have given you a dozen stories at least about them this voyage! well, if you must have it, here goes. you must know, then, that about two years before, (like a great fool that i was,) i left my dear native island: i accompanied my father, and twenty or thirty of our tribe, on an elephant-catching expedition, to the banks of a large river more than fifty miles from our village. we were five days on our journey, for we had to pass through deep and tangled forests. as our object was merely to procure the valuable tusks, which we bartered at the dutch settlement, for linen cloth, and other european articles, we did not attempt to take our game alive, but contented ourselves with digging deep pit-falls in the forest-paths made by the elephants in their visits to the river-side; for you must know that elephants are very fond of bathing and splashing about in the water. these pits of ours were slightly covered over with branches of trees and grass, and at the bottom we fixed a strong, sharp-pointed stake, on which, when they tumbled down headlong, the unwieldy animals were impaled and killed. we always took care to bait our traps with green boughs and tempting fruits. when we were so fortunate as to entrap an elephant in this manner, some of our party would descend to cut out the valuable tusks with a hatchet; and as we were quite unable to raise the immense carcass out of the pit, we were obliged to fill it up and dig another. this method of catching elephants was generally adopted by our nation, for at that time fire-arms were not in use among us. but i have heard that in some countries, when the hunters wish to take the animals alive, they make large enclosures of very strong stakes, and employ tame elephants to entice the wild ones inside, when the door is shut, and they are immediately bound fast with ropes, and kept without food for several days, till they are partly tamed. but i must return to our expedition. at this time we were very unfortunate indeed. though the herd of elephants was numerous, and we had dug a great number of pit-falls, more than a week had passed, and we had made only one capture, a very young animal whose tusks were hardly worth taking home. this bad luck was not occasioned by our want of skill, for some of our party, my father and elder brother in particular, were the most experienced hunters of our nation, and our traps were covered over and baited with the greatest care. it was of no use; after the little fellow who met with his fate on the second day of our falling in with the herd, not a single elephant would venture his life for the most tempting baits we could select; and in some places where the path was so narrow that there was no room to pass the trap, these provoking animals would either return, or make another track by the side of it, by tearing up the trees with their trunks, and trampling down the bushes and underwood. "this will never do!" said my father; "these rascals are too cunning for us. we must find another herd. if we do not get some ivory soon, the dutch ships will have left the port, and then we shall not be able to sell our tusks for a pretty while." so it was agreed, that the next day we would move further up the river, in hopes of falling in with a less sagacious herd. but the same afternoon a circumstance occurred which explained the cause of our want of success in a very satisfactory manner, to _me_ at least, though some of our company were so stupid as to say that what i am now going to relate was all nonsense, and that i had been dreaming. i was stationed in the upper part of a lofty tree within view of one of our pit-falls, when i perceived three elephants approaching. two were of moderate size, but the third was by far the largest animal i had ever seen or heard of. he seemed almost decrepit with age, and had a very remarkable appearance, from one of his immense tusks being broken off, leaving a ragged stump of about a foot in length. he and his companions had been enjoying a cool bathe in the river, as i could perceive from the light-coloured mud on their legs and sides, and their way lay directly by the trap i was appointed to watch. but this peril they took especial care to avoid. however, i observed the old elephant point at it with his trunk, whereupon they all three tossed up their heads with an indignant snort. so they paced leisurely along till they reached my tree, at the foot of which, the old gentleman, apparently exhausted with fatigue, threw himself down on his side so suddenly, that he occasioned a partial earthquake. the others kept watch by him. after lying perfectly still for about an hour, during which time, we may safely conclude that he was refreshed by a comfortable nap, the venerable patriarch raised his immense bulk till he was in a sort of squatting posture, and began to converse with his companions; but i was at such a great height above him, that i could only catch a word or two here and there. but what are you laughing at, bill stacey? do you think everybody is as deaf and as stupid as yourself? you had better say at once that you don't believe i could understand the elephant's language, and then i'll leave off and turn in for the rest of the watch. well, then, behave yourself, my boy, and don't interrupt me any more, or i won't say another word to-night. let me see, where was i? oh, i told you that i was too high up in the tree to make out what the elephants were saying, but no doubt their conversation related to the pitfall, as the old fellow grumbled out the words, "stupid idiots!" "shallow contrivance!" and "whoever saw fruit growing on a beaten path?" hoping to gain some useful information, i now, with extreme caution, descended from the top of the tree till i reached a branch about twenty feet from the ground, and concealed myself among the thick leaves. for some time after i had been in this situation there was a dead silence below, and i almost feared that the elephants had heard or smelt me, and were meditating some mischief. but there was a strong breeze blowing, and this prevented them from hearing me. in a few minutes, the patriarch, after casting a very affectionate glance on his companions, and giving utterance to a tremendous grunt, which i suppose he meant for a _sigh_, though you might have heard it at the distance of a mile, began a sort of history of his life, which i will repeat, if bill stacey will be quiet. * * * * * (_the old_ elephant _speaks for himself at last_.) true, my dear children, i have often promised to relate to you as much as i can remember of my long life and experience, and as my increasing bodily infirmities warn me that my days are drawing to a close, i cannot do better than embrace this opportunity when we are not likely to be interrupted by our companions. i am now going to put you in possession of a secret, which i should be very unwilling to make public. it is universally believed by our company, that i have spent many years in the service of man, and that at this period of my life, i acquired that knowledge of his ways which has been so useful in enabling me to detect and avoid his wicked devices for the destruction of our noble race. to this belief i am indebted for the influence i possess in our councils, and though my years and experience might still be respected, i am certain, that the ungrateful herd, ever fond of change, would immediately choose a new leader, if they had the least suspicion of what i am going to communicate to you. know, then, my children, that i have never been a slave to the tyrant! that i have never been that most abject of creatures, "_a tame elephant_." no! my last days are not embittered by the consideration, that i have ever in the smallest degree contributed to the happiness of the two-legged monster. on the contrary, i am cheered by the recollection, that a great part of my life has been spent in detecting his tricks, and in thwarting his wicked designs. if our laws did not forbid us to take the life of any creature except in self-defence, with my knowledge of our enemies' weakness, we might easily take such terrible vengeance, as would induce him at least to confine himself to the neighbourhood of his own towns and settlements. but he cannot do us much injury. so successful have i been in detecting his ridiculous traps and pit-falls, that, for the last fifty years, not one of our herd has fallen a victim to his vile designs, except the poor young creature who threw his life away a few days ago, when, foolishly confident in his own knowledge, he persisted in rambling about by himself. even in this melancholy affair, we may comfort ourselves that we could better spare him than any other of his companions, and that our enemies have gained little or nothing by his capture. but you will ask, if i have never been the companion of man, by what means have i obtained that superior intelligence and knowledge of his arts, for which our tribe are pleased to give me credit? i answer, simply by keeping my _eyes_ and my _ears_ open, and by remembering what i have _seen_ and _heard_. follow my example, my dear children, and if you ever arrive at my age, you will no longer wonder at the extent of my information. now let me endeavour to remember some of the most remarkable incidents of my life. i have but a confused recollection of my very early childhood, or of anything that happened before my thirteenth year, but about that time i well remember i was in terrible distress at the loss of my first tusks, and that my mother could hardly make me believe that they would ever be replaced by others. but when these long-looked-for second tusks really made their appearance, and had reached about the length of my present miserable stump, i used to plague all my acquaintance, by asking them whether they thought my tusks had grown lately, or whether they would ever be as large and strong as our leader's. at last i met with a cutting reproof from a surly old fellow, who had often been pestered by me in this manner. "you impertinent young scamp," said he, "what do i care about your tusks, or whether they grow or not? one thing i know, and will tell you for your comfort. if, when you grow up, your head should be as deficient in _ivory_ as it is in _sense_, you need have no fear whatever of the hunters, for i am sure you would not repay them for the trouble of killing you." this was very severe; but i must tell you that the old brute was particularly cross on this occasion, for the day before he had been terribly disappointed by not being chosen leader of the herd, and he had found out, as i was afterwards informed, that he had lost his election by the influence of my mother and some others of our family. well, my children, if i was once proud of my tusks, i have no cause for such foolish vanity now with this hideous stump, though the other is still nearly half as long again as any in the herd. i will now relate to you how i first became acquainted with that contemptible little animal, who has the vanity to call himself "the lord of the creation." i think it was in my twentieth year, just at the end of the rainy season, that our herd had approached within less than fifty miles of the dutch settlement, for the purpose of visiting a tract of marshy land overrun with high canes, the tender tops of which, you well know, are such delicious food. i was busily employed in a cane-brake, close to the banks of the river, in company with my mother and two of my younger brothers, when one of the latter, who had left us for a few minutes to wash the clammy juice of the canes from his mouth and trunk, returned in such haste and agitation, that for some time not a sound could he utter, except unintelligible gruntings and sputterings. at last, he stammered out, "mother! mother! dreadful! i have seen such a thing! great monstrous monkeys, with long poles in their paws, and sitting upright on the backs of immense deer, or some such creatures, only they have got no horns on their heads!" upon this, my mother, raising her trunk high in the air, immediately sounded the well-known signal of alarm, and saying to us, "follow, boys, follow!" she darted through the cane-brake like a mad thing, only stopping now and then to see how we kept up with her. we did our best; but it was very laborious work, forcing our way at our utmost speed through the thick canes, which were much higher than our heads, and in some places; the ground was so soft, that we sunk in up to our bellies. what a tremendous crash and splash we made, and how we did grunt and snort! however, at last we reached the open country, two or three miles from the bank of the river. here we found more than half of the herd, (we were seventy-five in number at that time,) and others were every minute making their appearance from the canes. and now my mother, when she had a little recovered her breath, turning to my brother who had first given the alarm, explained to us the cause of this sudden retreat. "my son," said she, "not _monkeys_ sitting upon _deer_ have you seen, but _men_ upon _horses_, and the _long poles_ are _cruel spears_ intended for your destruction." our careful leader now called over the names of his company, and finding that two were missing, he ordered us to retreat to a thick wood at a short distance, while himself and his brother, a steady sedate old fellow, entered the cane-brake again, in hopes of falling in with the lost ones. being now collected together, we did not fear the enemy, who is too cowardly to attack any but stragglers from the main body; but we were very anxious about the fate of our missing friends, especially as they were both rather young and giddy. in about an hour we perceived the leader and his brother issuing from the cane-brake, supporting between them one of the stragglers, who appeared quite unable to walk by himself, and as they came near, we could see that he was bleeding from several wounds in his body, and that he had lost the use of one of his hind-legs. but what a dreadful account he gave us! he said that he and his brother, whose name was brisk, were feeding in an open space close to the river, when they heard my mother's alarm-call, which brisk said was nothing more than her usual voice when she was scolding her children. so he refused to retreat, and persuaded his brother to remain with him, when suddenly they found themselves surrounded by ten or twelve hunters mounted on horse-back, and armed with long spears. they made the best resistance they could, and killed one of the hunters; but at length our wounded friend, finding himself weak from his wounds, rolled down the steep bank into the river, where he was concealed by the overhanging trees, and as the cold water refreshed and strengthened him, he swam gently down the stream, keeping close under the bank till he came to a good landing-place. here, he with difficulty managed to scramble on shore, and was proceeding slowly and in great pain through the canes, when he was found by the leader and his brother, without whose assistance he said he should never have reached the herd, for he was bleeding fast, and a deep spear-wound in the upper joint of his hind-leg was becoming more and more painful at every step. after his wounds had been examined, and the bleeding had been stopped by the application of the proper herbs, our poor friend was questioned as to the fate of his brother, when he immediately swooned from excess of agitation. recovering a little, in a low voice and in broken words he endeavoured to communicate the sad tidings. "brother," said he, "brother brisk--brother brisk barbarously"--then suddenly, to our amazement, jumping up on his three legs, he bellowed forth with tremendous energy, "brother brisk barbarously butchered!" whereupon the whole herd, old and young, with quivering trunks high raised in air, continued for some minutes to thunder forth in their loudest tones, "brother brisk barbarously butchered! brother brisk barbarously butchered!" did that wild cry of despair reach the ears of the hunters? if so, i envy them not their feelings. we continued in a close body all night with watchful sentinels on the look-out. the next morning a council was held, from which my youth excluded me; but we were soon informed, that our elders had determined that we should retreat fifty or a hundred miles up the river, not (as they were very particular in declaring) that they had any fear of the enemy themselves, but on account of the number of young ones in the herd, who, by wandering to a distance from the rest, would run great risk of sharing the fate of poor brisk. so, after waiting three or four days for our wounded companion to recover a little, we set off on our journey, keeping near the banks of the river, for the sake of the canes and the opportunity of bathing. on the second day, coming to a narrow part of the river, we determined to cross it as a greater security. it was so shallow, that most of us could walk on the bottom with our trunks raised above the surface of the water to breathe through, but the very young ones either swam or were helped over by their mothers. when we were all collected together, we heard a loud shout from the opposite bank of the river, and lo! there were our enemies again, eight in number, mounted on horses, and with their long steel lances glittering in the sun. they had no doubt been following us closely all day, looking out for stragglers. some of our company who had complained bitterly of our leader's strict discipline in obliging us to march in a close body, now began to look rather silly. in a few minutes, another horseman who appeared more heavily laden than his companions rode up to them, and, oh! sight of horror! from his saddle were hanging a pair of tusks, which no doubt a few days before had adorned the head of the unfortunate brisk! after looking at us for some time, one of the hunters, more courageous or more foolish than his companions, rode into the river as far as his horse could go without swimming, till he was nearly half-way across, and then, for the first time in my life, i had a fall view of the human form and countenance. never before had i seen such a ridiculous object as this hunter, who was pronounced to be an englishman by some knowing ones in our company. he was larger, certainly, than our amusing friends the monkeys, but his pale face was not half so agreeable and intelligent, and as he sat on his horse with his long thin legs dangling in the water, he looked so disappointed and miserable, that, forgetting for a moment his villanous cruelty, i almost pitied him. and so much for "the majesty of the human countenance" which i have heard spoken of, but could never yet perceive. it has been said that a bold man can subdue the rage even of the ferocious tiger, merely by fixing his eye upon him. very likely, for the tiger is as cowardly as he is cruel; but did anybody ever hear of an _elephant_, old or young, being frightened at a couple of little twinkling eyes? oh! most absurd! after a little while the monkey--i mean the man in the river--joined his companions on the bank, and when they had consulted together, they seemed to give it up as a bad job. so they rode back down the river, and we proceeded quietly on our journey. it was more than fifty years after this adventure before i again encountered any of these savage disturbers of the peace of the wilderness, though we often heard of them from herds who had lost some of their number by the treacherous devices of the enemy. during this long period of tranquillity, so little occurred worth noticing, that i shall leave the relation of this part of my life till another opportunity, and hasten to give you an account of my next interview with man, on which occasion it was that i began those observations on his manner of making pit-falls, and other contrivances for our destruction, which have been of such service in enabling us to avoid these dangers. at this time, instead of losing one of our companions, we had the pleasure of rescuing a member of another community from a lingering and dreadful death. we were quite on the other side of the island, several hundred miles from the scene of the last tragedy. for some days we had been aware of the neighbourhood of man from the smell of his watch-fires, and accordingly we had doubled the number of our sentinels, and had taken care not to wander far from each other. but we neither saw nor heard anything of the enemy until about noon of a burning hot day, when, as we were sheltering ourselves from the sun in a thick wood, we were suddenly startled by loud shouts and yells, so discordant and hideous, that we were sure they could be produced by no other animal but man. to these cries we paid little attention, but presently was heard in the same direction another sound--a sound which caused our very hearts to burn within us, as we recognised the peculiar cry which a female of our own species utters when in terrible distress and danger. a hasty council was immediately called, when it was determined to rescue the sufferer at all hazards, and twenty strong fellows, myself having the command of the party, set off at full speed through the wood in the direction of the cries,--every one of us bellowing as loud as we were able. a very short time sufficed to bring us within sight of the enemy. in an open part of the forest was a troop of twenty or thirty hunters, but very different in their appearance from those i have before described; for these were nearly naked savages, on foot, and armed only with those ridiculous things, bows and arrows--weapons which our good stout skins enable us to laugh at. these wretches, as soon as they caught sight of our formidable band, took to their heels in great confusion, flying in every direction, like a herd of antelopes before the cruel tiger; we did not deign to follow them, but hastened at once to the spot they had left. here we found a deep pit-fall, and at the bottom was an exceedingly beautiful and very black female elephant unhurt by the fall, for the pit being large, she had fortunately escaped the murderous sharp-pointed stake, and her cry of distress was soon exchanged for one of joyful recognition, as she saw so many of her friends looking down upon her, and assuring her that they would leave no means untried to rescue her from her prison. but this was a much more difficult matter than we had supposed; for the pit was so deep, that, when the captive stood up on her hind-legs, her eyes were but just level with the ground, and though we made many efforts to lift her out with our trunks, our attempts were always ended by our poor friend's tumbling back again with great violence into the pit, and nearly pulling three or four of us down with her. i now sent off a messenger for our leader, who soon arrived, bringing the whole herd with him; but numbers could not help us out of the difficulty. at length, when we were beginning almost to despair, i chanced to remember a plan, which i had heard was sometimes adopted by the hunters, when they wished to take an elephant alive out of a pitfall. here, my children, was an instance of the advantage of _remembering what we have heard_; and of remembering it at the right time too, for our knowledge and experience are doubly useful to us when they enable us to decide not only _wisely_, but _quickly_, in affairs of difficulty. the method, which, at my suggestion, we now adopted, was this;--with our tusks we dug up the earth around the pit, and then shovelled it in with our feet, while our friend below trampled it down hard as fast as it came in. this was very laborious, tedious work for both parties, but we were amply rewarded for our toil; for at length the pit was so far filled up, that, with the assistance of our trunks, the poor captive managed to scramble out of her dungeon. she was dreadfully exhausted with fatigue and hunger, for she told us that she had been in captivity for three days, and she had no doubt that the hunters intended to starve her to death, for they had made no attempts either to release her, or to put an end to her sufferings. i need not tell you that our unfortunate friend received the hearty congratulations of our community, and that she was supplied with abundance of the most nourishing food we could collect, having first been conducted by two of our females to the river to wash and refresh herself after her sufferings. so, when she was a little recovered, she informed us that she had strayed away from her herd nearly a moon before, and that she was in search of her companions when she met with her grievous disaster. then she begged permission to join our community, and the question being put to the vote, was decided unanimously in her favour. who was this adopted stranger? my children, she was _your mother_! the faithful friend, who for seventy years has rewarded me, by her affectionate companionship, for my exertions in rescuing her from the cruel grasp of her enemies. * * * * * at this part of his story, said jolly, the old elephant became so prosy and tiresome, talking of his family affairs, and praising his great fat black wife, that i have almost forgotten the rest of his adventures. but i remember that he was chosen leader of the herd soon after his marriage, partly on account of his cleverness in getting the old lady out of the pit, but chiefly because, as he has already told us, his companions believed that he had formerly been a tame elephant. he also reminded his sons, that, though so old and infirm, he had lately broken his tusk by fighting with and killing a very fierce rhinoceros. so when the old fellow had finished his history, he and his sons moved off slowly towards the thickest part of the forest, and as soon as they were out of sight i slid down from the tree and ran home to our encampment. we set off next day in pursuit of another herd, which we soon fell in with, and had good luck with our traps, so that we quickly loaded ourselves with ivory. i persuaded my companions not to put any bait on the pit-falls, for sure enough, as the elephant observed, it _does_ look very unnatural to see fruit and green branches growing on a beaten path. but whether our success was occasioned by this alteration in our plans, or to the elephants being less cunning than the others, i cannot pretend to tell you; but i say, boys, how angry the old leader would have been, if he had thought, that, by letting out this secret, he had lent a helping hand to "the contemptible little animals," as he had the impertinence to call us! but i have talked myself hoarse, and it is high time to turn in. so good night, youngsters, all! * * * * * now _all_ my tales are finished, and i am going to add what an irishman might call a _preface_, at the _end_ of the book. i have a reason for this. if my preface had been placed at the beginning, perhaps you would never have read it at all, but would have skipped over it, in hopes of finding something more entertaining. for i was a _stranger_ to you when you first took this little book into your hand, but now you have finished it, i hope you will consider the author as a _friend_, who will be very much grieved if you refuse to listen to his parting words. and a very few words they shall be. do you think this book has been written for your _amusement_ only? that was my principal object, certainly; but i also intended slyly to convey a little _instruction_ also. therefore, in the descriptions of the forms and habits of animals, some of which, though not uncommon in this country, were perhaps almost unknown to you before, the greatest care has been taken to insert no information which had not been proved to be correct, either from consulting the best authors on the subject,[12] or from my own observation. this may be called a _true story_, then, except in one respect, that the characters have been endowed with the gifts of speech and reason. how could i write a tale about animals that could neither speak to each other, nor understand what was spoken to them? and how can we be sure that "dumb creatures," as they are often called, are not improperly named so, and that they do not possess a sort of language of their own? that they have the power of expressing some of their sentiments to each other is certain. [12] especially "bell's history of british quadrupeds," a work abounding in valuable and most interesting matter, and adorned with beautiful wood-cuts, many of which are complete portraits of the animals they represent. in studying the natural history of animals, we might at first suppose, that some were less fitted for enjoyment than others, and we might say that the mole, for instance, has had a hard lot assigned him, because he is nearly deprived of sight, and is condemned to labour all his days in searching for his food under the earth. but a more perfect knowledge of the form and structure of this and other animals will convince us, that they are _all_ so beautifully fitted for the situations for which they were designed, that each may be said to pass its life in the enjoyment of almost perfect happiness and abundance. for the great spirit who called them into existence loves _all_ his creatures, even the meanest and smallest. do you believe this? you cannot doubt it, if you have made even a small progress in the study of natural history. the creator's love for every breathing thing, and provident care for its happiness, must be evident to all those who pay attention to the works of his hands. what a great crime, then, shall we be guilty of, if we inflict unnecessary suffering on any of those creatures he has placed in our power! creatures beloved and cared for by god, but so frequently despised and ill-used by us! let us think of this, when we are treating any animal unkindly, and beware lest we "be found even to _fight against god_," by thwarting his benevolent designs for the happiness of every creature he has sent forth upon the earth. the end. j. rickerby, printer, sherbourn lane. new and interesting works for young people, published by harvey and darton, gracechurch-street. fourth edition, revised and enlarged, historical prints. representing some of the most memorable events in english history, in which the costumes of the times are carefully preserved. with descriptions by emily taylor, author of "tales of the saxons," &c. to which is added, a brief chronology of the kings of england. foolscap 8vo., cloth, gilt edges. price 6s. a voyage to india; or, three months on the ocean. showing how philip grey improved and beguiled his time at sea. by the author of "charlie's discoveries." with cuts. 16mo. price 4s. the squirrels and other animals; or, illustrations of the habits and instincts of many of the smaller british quadrupeds. by george waring. with cuts. square 16mo. price 3s. 6d. naomi: or, the last days of jerusalem. by mrs. j. b. webb, author of "the child's commentary on st. luke," "travels of durand," &c. "behold, your house is left unto you desolate." foolscap 8vo. cloth lettered. price 7s. 6d. hymns and sketches in verse. by the author of "tales of the great and brave," "tales of many lands," &c. with fine wood-cut illustrations. 16mo. cloth lettered. price 4s. 6d. also, by the same author, my boy's first book. price 3s. 6d. the oratory; or, the testimony of scripture on the subject of prayer. by lucy barton. royal 32mo. cloth gilt. price 2s. 6d. childhood, illustrated in a selection from the poets. by h. m. r. "oh children they are holy things beloved of earth and heaven, and angels shield with guardian wings the home where they are given." blackwood's mag. foolscap 8vo. cloth lettered. price 5s. _published by harvey and darton._ the old oak-chest; or, a book a great treasure. by the author of "charlie's discoveries," "little frank," and "walter o'neil." 16mo. cloth, with many cuts. price 3s. 6d. tales of travel through some of the most interesting parts of the world. by f. b. miller. 18mo. cloth lettered. price 2s. 6d. rural scenes; or, a peep into the country. a new and revised edition, with eighty-eight cuts. foolscap 8vo. cloth lettered. price 2s. 6d. juvenile anecdotes. by priscilla wakefield. 18mo. cloth lettered, with coloured frontispiece. price 2s. 6d. a new derivative and etymological dictionary of such english words as have their origin in the greek and latin languages, arranged according to the number of syllables, with the words accented: intended as a guide to a thorough knowledge of scientific, technical, and other terms in common use. by j. rowbotham, f.r.a.s. foolscap, cloth lettered price 7s. _harvey and darton's new and interesting works._ grecian stories. by maria hack. author of "english stories of the olden times," "winter evenings," "geological sketches," "harry beaufoy," &c. "i find that men as high as trees will write dialogue-wise, yet no man doth them slight for writing so."--bunyan. with thirty-eight fine illustrations by gilbert, engraved by wright and folkard. 12mo. cloth lettered. price 8s. early days in the society of friends. exemplifying the obedience of faith in some of its first members. by mary ann kelty, author of "straightforwardness," "individual influence," &c. 12mo. cloth. price 7s. 6d. "i would recommend you," says charles lamb, whose relish for all that was individual and unworldly was strong to the last hour of his life, "above all church narratives, to read sewell's history of the quakers; here is nothing to stagger you, nothing to make you mistrust, no suspicion of alloy, no drop or dreg of the worldly or ambitious spirit." mary ann kelty's book is abridged from sewell, and may, we think, be perused with interest, as a record of the early struggles of a body of conscientious men, apart from the peculiar doctrines it is intended to enforce and illustrate.--_athenã¦um._ also, by the same author, facts and feelings, illustrative of interior religion; accompanied by memorials of madame guyon, fenelon, and other spiritual persons, with extracts from their works. 8vo. cloth lettered. price 4s. charlie's discoveries; or, a good use for eyes and ears. by the author of "the old oak chest," "walter o'neil," &c. with many cuts, by t. williams. 16mo. cloth. gilt edges. price 4s. 6d. "charlie's discoveries, being set forth in a lively and attractive manner, and illustrated with beautiful wood-cuts, are calculated to make more juvenile discoveries of the wonders that are everywhere about us, though but little known."--_spectator._ 