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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19381-8.txt b/19381-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..61b1787 --- /dev/null +++ b/19381-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4598 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Among the Farmyard People, by Clara Dillingham Pierson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Among the Farmyard People + +Author: Clara Dillingham Pierson + +Illustrator: F.C. Gordon + +Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19381] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE FARMYARD PEOPLE *** + + + + +Produced by David Newman, Chuck Greif, Janet Blenkinship +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + + Among the Farmyard People + + BY + + Clara Dillingham Pierson + + Author of "Among the Meadow People," and "Forest People". + + + Illustrated by F. C. GORDON + + + [Illustration] + + + NEW YORK + Copyright by + E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY + 31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET + 1899 + + + + +TO THE CHILDREN + +_Dear Little Friends:_ + +I want to introduce the farmyard people to you, and to have you call +upon them and become better acquainted as soon as you can. Some of them +are working for us, and we surely should know them. Perhaps, too, some +of us are working for them, since that is the way in this delightful +world of ours, and one of the happiest parts of life is helping and +being helped. + +It is so in the farmyard, and although there is not much work that the +people there can do for each other, there are many kind things to be +said, and even the Lame Duckling found that he could make the Blind +Horse happy when he tried. It is there as it is everywhere else, and I +sometimes think that although the farmyard people do not look like us or +talk like us, they are not so very different after all. If you had seen +the little Chicken who wouldn't eat gravel when his mother was reproving +him, you could not have helped knowing his thoughts even if you did not +understand a word of the Chicken language. He was thinking, "I don't +care! I don't care a bit! So now!" That was long since, for he was a +Chicken when I was a little girl, and both of us grew up some time ago. +I think I have always been more sorry for him because when he was +learning to eat gravel I was learning to eat some things which I did not +like; and so, you see, I knew exactly how he felt. But it was not until +afterwards that I found out how his mother felt. + +That is one of the stories which I have been keeping a long time for +you, and the Chicken was a particular friend of mine. I knew him better +than I did some of his neighbors; yet they were all pleasant +acquaintances, and if I did not see some of these things happen with my +own eyes, it is just because I was not in the farmyard at the right +time. There are many other tales I should like to tell you about them, +but one mustn't make the book too fat and heavy for your hands to hold, +so I will send you these and keep the rest. + +Many stories might be told about our neighbors who live out-of-doors, +and they are stories that ought to be told, too, for there are still +boys and girls who do not know that animals think and talk and work, and +love their babies, and help each other when in trouble. I knew one boy +who really thought it was not wrong to steal newly built birds'-nests, +and I have seen girls--quite large ones, too--who were afraid of Mice! +It was only last winter that a Quail came to my front door, during the +very cold weather, and snuggled down into the warmest corner he could +find. I fed him, and he stayed there for several days, and I know, and +you know, perfectly well that although he did not say it in so many +words, he came to remind me that I had not yet told you a Quail story. +And two of my little neighbors brought ten Polliwogs to spend the day +with me, so I promised then and there that the next book should be about +pond people and have a Polliwog story in it. + +And now, good-bye! Perhaps some of you will write me about your visits +to the farmyard. I hope you will enjoy them very much, but be sure you +don't wear red dresses or caps when you call on the Turkey Gobbler. + + Your friend, + CLARA DILLINGHAM PIERSON. + + Stanton, Michigan, + March 28, 1899. + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PAGE + THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL 1 + + THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL 12 + + THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG 20 + + THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO 33 + + THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE 47 + + THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND 64 + + THE TWIN LAMBS 82 + + THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE 96 + + THE LONELY LITTLE PIG 106 + + THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF 116 + + THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL 136 + + THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY 149 + + WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY 160 + + THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP 172 + + THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER 186 + + THE BRAGGING PEACOCK 199 + + THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN 213 + + THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES 232 + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING 2 + + THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL 16 + + THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM 40 + + HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES 77 + + FEEDING THE LAMBS 84 + + EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF 110 + + "I AM THE WHITE KITTEN" 130 + + THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH 156 + + COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER 170 + + THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD + HER. _Frontispiece_ 194 + + THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE, 208 + + THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF 243 + + + + +THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL + + +"Listen!" said the Nigh Ox, "don't you hear some friends coming?" + +The Off Ox raised his head from the grass and stopped to brush away a +Fly, for you never could hurry either of the brothers. "I don't hear any +footfalls," said he. + +"You should listen for wings, not feet," said the Nigh Ox, "and for +voices, too." + +Even as he spoke there floated down from the clear air overhead a soft +"tittle-ittle-ittle-ee," as though some bird were laughing for +happiness. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the meadow was covered +with thousands and thousands of green grass blades, each so small and +tender, and yet together making a most beautiful carpet for the feet of +the farmyard people, and offering them sweet and juicy food after their +winter fare of hay and grain. Truly it was a day to make one laugh aloud +for joy. The alder tassels fluttered and danced in the spring breeze, +while the smallest and shyest of the willow pussies crept from their +little brown houses on the branches to grow in the sunshine. + +[Illustration: THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING.] + +"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" And this time it was +louder and clearer than before. + +"The Swallows!" cried the Oxen to each other. Then they straightened +their strong necks and bellowed to the Horses, who were drawing the plow +in the field beyond, "The Swallows are coming!" + +As soon as the Horses reached the end of the furrow and could rest a +minute, they tossed their heads and whinnied with delight. Then they +looked around at the farmer, and wished that he knew enough of the +farmyard language to understand what they wanted to tell him. They knew +he would be glad to hear of their friends' return, for had they not seen +him pick up a young Swallow one day and put him in a safer place? + +"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" and there was a sudden darkening of the sky +above their heads, a whirr of many wings, a chattering and laughing of +soft voices, and the Swallows had come. Perched on the ridge-pole of the +big barn, they rested and visited and heard all the news. + +The Doves were there, walking up and down the sloping sides of the roof +and cooing to each other about the simple things of every-day life. You +know the Doves stay at home all winter, and so it makes a great change +when their neighbors, the Swallows, return. They are firm friends in +spite of their very different ways of living. There was never a Dove +who would be a Swallow if he could, yet the plump, quiet, gray and white +Doves dearly love the dashing Swallows, and happy is the Squab who can +get a Swallow to tell him stories of the great world. + +"Isn't it good to be home, home, home!" sang one Swallow. "I never set +my claws on another ridge-pole as comfortable as this." + +"I'm going to look at my old nest," said a young Swallow, as she +suddenly flew down to the eaves. + +"I think I'll go, too," said another young Swallow, springing away from +his perch. He was a handsome fellow, with a glistening dark blue head +and back, a long forked tail which showed a white stripe on the under +side, a rich buff vest, and a deep blue collar, all of the finest +feathers. He loved the young Swallow whom he was following, and he +wanted to tell her so. + +"There is the nest where I was hatched," she said. "Would you think I +was ever crowded in there with five brothers and sisters? It was a +comfortable nest, too, before the winter winds and snow wore it away. I +wonder how it would seem to be a fledgling again?" She snuggled down in +the old nest until he could see only her forked tail and her dainty head +over the edge. Her vest was quite hidden, and the only light feathers +that showed were the reddish-buff ones on throat and face; these were +not so bright as his, but still she was beautiful to him. He loved every +feather on her body. + +"I don't want you to be a fledgling again," he cried. "I want you to +help me make a home under the eaves, a lovely little nest of mud and +straw, where you can rest as you are now doing, while I bring food to +you. Will you?" + +"Yes," she cried. "Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Oh, tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" +And she flew far up into the blue sky, while he followed her, +twittering and singing. + +"Where are those young people going?" said an older Swallow. "I should +think they had flown far enough for to-day without circling around for +the fun of it." + +"Don't you remember the days when you were young?" said the Swallow next +to him. + +"When I was young?" he answered. "My dear, I am young now. I shall +always be young in the springtime. I shall never be old except when I am +moulting." + +Just then a family of Doves came pattering over the roof, swaying their +heads at every step. "We are so glad to see you back," said the father. +"We had a long, cold winter, and we thought often of you." + +"A very cold winter," cooed his plump little wife. + +"Tell me a story," said a young Dove, their son. + +"Hush, hush," said the Father Dove. "This is our son," he added, "and +this is his sister. We think them quite a pair. Our last brood, you +know." + +"Tell us a story," said the young Dove again. + +"Hush, dear. You mustn't tease the Swallow," said his mother. "They are +so fond of stories," she cooed, "and they have heard that your family +are great travellers." + +"But I want him to tell us a story," said the young Dove. "I think he +might." + +This made the Swallow feel very uncomfortable, for he could see that the +children had been badly brought up, and he did not want to tell a story +just then. + +"Perhaps you would like to hear about our journey south," said he. "Last +fall, when the maples began to show red and yellow leaves among the +green, we felt like flying away. It was quite warm weather, and the +forest birds were still here, but when we feel like flying south we +always begin to get ready." + +"I never feel like flying south," said the young Dove. "I don't see why +you should." + +"That is because I am a Swallow and you are a farmyard Dove. We talked +about it to each other, and one day we were ready to start. We all had +on our new feathers and felt strong and well. We started out together, +but the young birds and their mothers could not keep up with the rest, +so we went on ahead." + +"Ahead of whom?" said the young Dove, who had been preening his feathers +when he should have been listening. + +"Ahead of the mothers and their fledglings. We flew over farms where +there were Doves like you; over rivers where the Wild Ducks were feeding +by the shore; and over towns where crowds of boys and girls were going +into large buildings, while on top of these buildings were large bells +singing, 'Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.'" + +"I don't think that was a very pretty song," said the young Dove. + +"Hush," said his mother, "you mustn't interrupt the Swallow." + +"And at last we came to a great lake," said the Swallow. "It was so +great that when we had flown over it for a little while we could not see +land at all, and our eyes would not tell us which way to go. We just +went on as birds must in such places, flying as we felt we ought, and +not stopping to ask why or to wonder if we were right. Of course we +Swallows never stop to eat, for we catch our food as we fly, but we did +sometimes stop to rest. Just after we had crossed this great lake we +alighted. It was then that a very queer thing happened, and this is +really the story that I started to tell." + +"Oh!" said the young Dove and his sister. "How very exciting. But wait +just a minute while we peep over the edge of the roof and see what the +farmer is doing." And before anybody could say a word they had pattered +away to look. + +The birds who were there say that the Swallow seemed quite disgusted, +and surely nobody could blame him if he did. + +"You must excuse them," cooed their mother. "They are really hardly more +than Squabs yet, and I can't bear to speak severely to them. I'm sure +they didn't mean to be rude." + +"Certainly, certainly," said the Swallow. "I will excuse them and you +must excuse me. I wish to see a few of my old friends before the sun +goes down. Good afternoon!" And he darted away. + +The young Doves came pattering back, swaying their heads as they walked. +"Why, where is the Swallow?" they cried. "What made him go away? Right +at the best part of the story, too. We don't see why folks are so +disagreeable. People never are as nice to us as they are to the other +young Doves." + +"Hush," said their mother. "You mustn't talk in that way. Fly off for +something to eat, and never mind about the rest of the story." + +When they were gone, she said to her husband, "I wonder if they did hurt +the Swallow's feelings? But then, they are so young, hardly more than +Squabs." + +She forgot that even Squabs should be thoughtful of others, and that no +Dove ever amounts to anything unless he begins in the right way as a +Squab. + + + + +THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL + + +The Sheep are a simple and kind-hearted family, and of all the people on +the farm there are none who are more loved than they. All summer they +wander in the fields, nibbling the fresh, sweet grass, and resting at +noon in the shadow of the trees, but when the cold weather comes they +are brought up to the farmyard and make their home in the long low +Sheep-shed. + +That is always a happy time. The Horses breathe deeply and toss their +heads for joy, the Cows say to each other, "Glad to have the Sheep come +up," and even the Oxen shift their cuds and look long over their +shoulders at the woolly newcomers. And this is not because the Sheep +can do anything for their neighbors to make them warm or to feed them. +It is only because they are a gentle folk and pleasant in all they say; +and you know when people are always kind, it makes others happy just to +see them and have them near. + +Then, when the cold March winds are blowing, the good farmer brings more +yellow straw into the Sheep-shed, and sees that it is warm and snug. If +there are any boards broken and letting the wind in, he mends them and +shuts out the cold. At this time, too, the Horses and Cattle stop often +in their eating to listen. Even the Pigs, who do not think much about +their neighbors, root in the corners nearest the Sheep-shed and prick up +their ears. + +Some bleak morning they hear a faint bleating and know that the first +Lamb is there. And then from day to day they hear more of the soft +voices as the new Lambs come to live with the flock. Such queer little +creatures as the Lambs are when they first come--so weak and awkward! +They can hardly stand alone, and stagger and wobble around the little +rooms or pens where they are with their mothers. You can just imagine +how hard it must be to learn to manage four legs all at once! + +There is one thing which they do learn very quickly, and that is, to +eat. They are hungry little people, and well they may be, for they have +much growing to do, and all of the food that is to be made into good +stout bodies and fine long wool has to go into their mouths and down +their throats to their stomachs. It is very wonderful to think that a +Cow eats grass and it is turned into hair to keep her warm, a Goose eats +grass and grows feathers, and a Sheep eats grass and grows wool. Still, +it is so, and nobody in the world can tell why. It is just one of the +things that are, and if you should ask "Why?" nobody could tell you the +reason. There are many such things which we cannot understand, but there +are many more which we can, so it would be very foolish for us to mind +when there is no answer to our "Why?" + +Yes, Sheep eat grass, and because they have such tiny mouths they have +to take small mouthfuls. The Lambs have different food for a +while,--warm milk from their mothers' bodies. When a mother has a Lamb +to feed, she eats a great deal, hay, grass, and chopped turnips, and +then part of the food that goes into her stomach is turned into milk and +stored in two warm bags for the Lamb to take when he is hungry. And how +the Lambs do like this milk! It tastes so good that they can hardly +stand still while they drink it down, and they give funny little jerks +and wave their woolly tails in the air. + +[Illustration: THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL.] + +There was one Lamb who had a longer tail than any of the rest, and, sad +to say, it made him rather vain. When he first came, he was too busy +drinking milk and learning to walk, to think about tails, but as he grew +older and stronger he began to know that he had the longest one. Because +he was a very young Lamb he was so foolish as to tease the others and +call out, "Baa! your tails are snippy ones!" + +Then the others would call back, "Baa! Don't care if they are!" + +After a while, his mother, who was a sensible Sheep and had seen much of +life, said to him: "You must not brag about your tail. It is very rude +of you, and very silly too, for you have exactly such a tail as was +given to you, and the other Lambs have exactly such tails as were given +to them, and when you are older you will know that it did not matter in +the least what kind of tail you wore when you were little." She might +have told him something else, but she didn't. + +The Lamb didn't dare to boast of his tail after this, but when he passed +the others, he would look at his mother, and if he thought she wouldn't +see, he would wiggle it at them. Of course that was just as bad as +talking about it, and the other Lambs knew perfectly well what he meant; +still, they pretended not to understand. + +One morning, when his mother's back was turned, he was surprised to see +that she had only a short and stumpy tail. He had been thinking so much +of his own that he had not noticed hers. "Mother," he cried, "why didn't +you have a long tail too?" + +"I did have once," she answered with a sheepish smile. + +"Did it get broken?" he asked in a faint little voice. He was thinking +how dreadful it would be if he should break his. + +"Not exactly," said his mother. "I will tell you all about it. All +little Lambs have long tails----" + +"Not so long as mine, though," said he, interrupting. + +"No, not so long as yours," she replied, "but so long that if they were +left that way always they would make a great deal of trouble. As the +wool grows on them, they would catch burrs and sharp, prickly things, +which would pull the wool and sting the skin. The farmer knows this, so +when the little Lambs are about as old as you are now, he and his men +make their tails shorter." + +"Oh!" cried the Lamb, curling his tail in as far between his legs as he +could, "do you mean that they will shorten my tail, my beautiful long +tail?" + +"That is just what I mean," said his mother, "and you should be very +glad of it. When that is done, you will be ready to go out into the +field with me. A lot of trouble we should have if the men did not look +after such things for us; but that is what men are for, they say,--to +look after us Sheep." + +"But won't they laugh at me when my tail is shorter?" asked her son. + +"They would laugh at you if you wore it long. No Lamb who pretends to be +anybody would be seen in the pasture with a dangling tail. Only wild +Sheep wear them long, poor things!" + +Now the little Lamb wished that he had not boasted so much. Now, when +the others passed him, he did not put on airs. Now he wondered why they +couldn't have short tails in the beginning. He asked his uncle, an old +Wether Sheep, why this was and his uncle laughed. "Why, what would you +have done all these days if things happened in that way? What would you +have had to think about? What could you have talked about?" The little +Lamb hung his head and asked no more questions. + +"What do you think?" he called to a group of Lambs near by. "I'm going +to have one of the men shorten my tail. It is such a bother unless one +does have it done, and mine is so very long!" + + + + +THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG + + +"CUT-CUT-CA-DAH-CUT! Cut-cut-cut-ca-dah-cut!" called the Dorking Hen, as +she strutted around the poultry-yard. She held her head very high, and +paused every few minutes to look around in her jerky way and see whether +the other fowls were listening. Once she even stood on her left foot +right in the pathway of the Shanghai Cock, and cackled into his very +ears. + +Everybody pretended not to hear her. The people in the poultry-yard did +not like the Dorking Hen very well. They said that she put on airs. +Perhaps she did. She certainly talked a great deal of the place from +which she and the Dorking Cock came. They had come in a small cage from +a large poultry farm, and the Dorking Hen never tired of telling about +the wonderful, noisy ride that they took in a dark car drawn by a great, +black, snorting creature. She said that this creature's feet grew on to +his sides and whirled around as he ran, and that he breathed out of the +top of his head. When the fowls first heard of this, they were much +interested, but after a while they used to walk away from her, or make +believe that they saw Grasshoppers whom they wanted to chase. + +When she found that people were not listening to her, she cackled louder +than ever, "Cut-cut-ca-dah-cut! Look at the egg--the egg--the egg--the +egg that I have laid." + +"Is there any particular reason why we should look at the egg--the +egg--the egg--the egg that you have laid?" asked the Shanghai Cock, who +was the grumpiest fowl in the yard. + +Now, usually if the Dorking Hen had been spoken to in this way, she +would have ruffled up her head feathers and walked away, but this time +she had news to tell and so she kept her temper. "Reason?" she cackled. +"Yes indeed! It is the finest egg that was ever laid in this +poultry-yard." + +"Hear her talk!" said a Bantam Hen. "I think it is in very poor taste to +lay such large eggs as most of the Hens do here. Small ones are much +more genteel." + +"She must forget an egg that I laid a while ago with two yolks," said a +Shanghai Hen. "That was the largest egg ever laid here, and I have +always wished that I had hatched it. A pair of twin chickens would have +been so interesting." + +"Well," said the Dorking Hen, who could not keep still any longer, +"small eggs may be genteel and large ones may be interesting, but my +last one is bee-autiful." + +"Perhaps you'd just as soon tell us about it as to brag without +telling?" grumbled the Shanghai Cock. "I suppose it is grass color, or +sky color, or hay color, or speckled, like a sparrow's egg." + +"No," answered the Dorking Hen, "it is white, but it is shiny." + +"Shiny!" they exclaimed. "Who ever heard of a shiny egg?" + +"Nobody," she replied, "and that is why it is so wonderful." + +"Don't believe it," said the Shanghai Cock, as he turned away and began +scratching the ground. + +Now the Dorking Hen did get angry. "Come to see it, if you don't believe +me," she said, as she led the others into the Hen-house. + +She flew up to the row of boxes where the Hens had their nests, and +picked her way along daintily until she reached the farthest one. "Now +look," said she. + +One by one the fowls peeped into the box, and sure enough, there it +lay, a fine, shiny, white egg. The little Bantam, who was really a +jolly, kind-hearted creature, said, "Well, it is a beauty. I should be +proud of it myself." + +"It is whiter than I fancy," said the Shanghai Cock, "but it certainly +does shine." + +"I shall hatch it," said the Dorking Hen, very decidedly. "I shall hatch +it and have a beautiful Chicken with shining feathers. I shall not hatch +all the eggs in the nest, but roll this one away and sit on it." + +"Perhaps," said one of her friends, "somebody else may have laid it +after all, and not noticed. You know it is not the only one in the +nest." + +"Pooh!" said the Dorking Hen. "I guess I know! I am sure it was not +there when I went to the nest and it was there when I left. I must have +laid it." + +The fowls went away, and she tried to roll the shiny one away from the +other eggs, but it was slippery and very light and would not stay where +she put it. Then she got out of patience and rolled all the others out +of the nest. Two of them fell to the floor and broke, but she did not +care. "They are nothing but common ones, anyway," she said. + +When the farmer's wife came to gather the eggs she pecked at her and was +very cross. Every day she did this, and at last the woman let her alone. +Every-day she told the other fowls what a wonderful Chicken she expected +to have. "Of course he will be of my color," said she, "but his feathers +will shine brightly. He will be a great flyer, too. I am sure that is +what it means when the egg is light." She came off the nest each day +just long enough to stroll around and chat with her friends, telling +them what wonderful things she expected, and never letting them forget +that it was she who had laid the shiny egg. She pecked airily at the +food, and seemed to think that a Hen who was hatching such a wonderful +Chicken should have the best of everything. Each day she told some new +beauty that was to belong to her child, until the Shanghai Cock fairly +flapped his wings with impatience. + +Day after day passed, and the garden beyond the barn showed rows of +sturdy green plants, where before there had been only straight ridges of +fine brown earth. The Swallows who were building under the eaves of the +great barn, twittered and chattered of the wild flowers in the forest, +and four other Hens came off their nests with fine broods of downy +Chickens. And still the Dorking Hen sat on her shiny egg and told what a +wonderful Chicken she expected to hatch. This was not the only egg in +the nest now, but it was the only one of which she spoke. + +At last a downy Chicken peeped out of one of the common eggs, and +wriggled and twisted to free himself from the shell. His mother did not +hurry him or help him. She knew that he must not slip out of it until +all the blood from the shell-lining had run into his tender little body. +If she had pushed the shell off before he had all of this fine red +blood, he would not have been a strong Chicken, and she wanted her +children to be strong. + +The Dorking Cock walked into the Hen-house and stood around on one foot. +He came to see if the shiny egg had hatched, but he wouldn't ask. He +thought himself too dignified to show any interest in newly hatched +Chickens before a Hen. Still, he saw no harm in standing around on one +foot and letting the Dorking Hen talk to him if she wanted to. When she +told him it was one of the common eggs that had hatched, he was quite +disgusted, and stalked out of doors without a word. + +The truth was that he had been rather bragging to the other Cocks, and +only a few minutes later he spoke with pride of the time when "our" +shiny egg should hatch. "For," he said, "Mrs. Dorking and I have been +quite alone here as far as our own people are concerned. It is not +strange that we should feel a great pride in the wonderful egg and the +Chicken to be hatched from it. A Dorking is a Dorking after all, my +friends." And he flapped his wings, stretched his neck, and crowed as +loudly as he could. + +"Yes," said the Black Spanish Cock afterward, "a Dorking certainly is a +Dorking, although I never could see the sense of making such a fuss +about it. They are fat and they have an extra toe on each foot. Why +should a fowl want extra toes? I have four on each foot, and I can +scratch up all the food I want with them." + +"Well," said the grumpy old Shanghai Cock, "I am sick and tired of this +fuss. Common eggs are good enough for Shanghais and Black Spanish and +Bantams, and I should think----" + +Just at this minute they heard a loud fluttering and squawking in the +Hen-house and the Dorking Hen crying, "Weasel! Weasel!" The Cocks ran to +drive the Weasel away, and the Hens followed to see it done. All was +noise and hurry, and they saw nothing of the Weasel except the tip of +his bushy tail as he drew his slender body through an opening in the +fence. + +The Dorking Hen was on one of the long perches where the fowls roost at +night, the newly hatched Chicken lay shivering in the nest, and on the +floor were the pieces of the wonderful shiny egg. The Dorking Hen had +knocked it from the nest in her flight. + +The Dorking Cock looked very cross. He was not afraid of a Weasel, and +he did not see why she should be. "Just like a Hen!" he said. + +The Black Spanish Hen turned to him before he could say another word. +"Just like a Cock!" she exclaimed. "I never raise Chickens myself. It is +not the custom among the Black Spanish Hens. We lay the eggs and +somebody else hatches them. But if I had been on the nest as long as +Mrs. Dorking has, do you suppose I'd let any fowl speak to me as you +spoke to her? I'd--I'd--" and she was so angry that she couldn't say +another word, but just strutted up and down and cackled. + +A motherly old Shanghai Hen flew up beside Mrs. Dorking. "We are very +sorry for you," she said. "I know how I should have felt if I had broken +my two-yolked egg just as it was ready to hatch." + +The Bantam Hen picked her way to the nest. "What a dear little Chicken!" +she cried, in her most comforting tone. "He is so plump and so bright +for his age. But, my dear, he is chilly, and I think you should cuddle +him under your wings until his down is dry." + +The Dorking Hen flew down. "He is a dear," she said, "and yet when he +was hatched I didn't care much for him, because I had thought so long +about the shiny egg. It serves me right to lose that one, because I have +been so foolish. Still, I do not know how I could stand it if it were +not for my good neighbors." + +While Mrs. Dorking was talking with the Bantam by her nest, the Black +Spanish Hen scratched a hole in the earth under the perches, poked the +pieces of the shiny egg into it, and covered them up. "I never raise +Chickens myself," she said, "but if I did----" + +The Shanghai Cock walked away with the Dorking Cock. "I'm sorry for +you," he said, "and I am more sorry for Mrs. Dorking. She is too fine a +Hen to be spoken to as you spoke to her this morning, and I don't want +to hear any more of your fault-finding. Do you understand?" And he +ruffled his neck feathers and stuck his face close to that of the +Dorking Cock. They stared into each other's eyes for a minute; then the +Dorking Cock, who was not so big and strong as the Shanghai, shook his +head and answered sweetly, "It was rude of me. I won't do it again." + +From that day to this, nobody in the poultry yard has ever spoken of the +shiny egg, and the Dorkings are much liked by the other fowls. Yet if it +had not been for her trouble, Mrs. Dorking and her neighbors would never +have become such good friends. The little Dorkings are fine, +fat-breasted Chicks, with the extra toe on each foot of which all that +family are so proud. + + + + +THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO + + +"Quack! Quack!" called the Duck who had been sitting on her nest so +long. "My first egg is cracked, and I can see the broad yellow bill of +my eldest child. Ah! Now I can see his downy white head." The Drake +heard her and quacked the news to every one around, and flapped his +wings, and preened his feathers, for was not this the first Duckling +ever hatched on the farm? + +The Drake had not been there long himself. It was only a few days before +the Duck began sitting that she and her five sisters had come with him +to this place. It had not taken them long to become acquainted with the +other farmyard people, and all had been kind to them. The Geese had +rather put on airs, at first, because they were bigger and had longer +legs, but the Ducks and Drake were too wise to notice this in any way, +and before long the Geese were as friendly as possible. They would have +shown the Ducks the way to the water if it had been necessary, but it +was not, for Ducks always know without being told just where to find it. +They know, and they do not know why they know. It is one of the things +that are. + +Now that the first Duckling had chipped the shell, everybody wanted to +see him, and there was soon a crowd of fowls around the nest watching +him free himself from it. The Drake stood by, as proud as a Peacock. "I +think he looks much like his mother," said he. + +"Yes, yes," cackled all the Hens. "The same broad yellow bill, the same +short yellow legs, and the same webbed feet." + +The mother Duck smiled. "He looks more like me now than he will by and +by," she said, "for when his feathers grow and cover the down, he will +have a stiff little one curled up on his back like the Drake's. And +really, except for the curled feather, his father and I look very much +alike." + +"That is so," said the Black Spanish Cock. "You do look alike; the same +white feathers, the same broad breast, the same strong wings, the same +pointed tail, the same long neck, the same sweet expression around the +bill!" That was just like the Black Spanish Cock. He always said +something pleasant about people when he could, and it was much better +than saying unpleasant things. Indeed, he was the most polite fowl in +the poultry-yard, and the Black Spanish Hen thought his manners quite +perfect. + +Then the Duckling's five aunts pushed their way through the crowd to the +nest under the edge of the strawstack. "Have you noticed what fine +large feet he has?" said one of them. "That is like his mother's people. +See what a strong web is between the three long toes on each foot! He +will be a good swimmer. The one toe that points backward is small, to be +sure, but he does not need that in swimming. That is only to make +waddling easier." + +"Yes, yes," "A fine web," and "Very large feet," cried the fowls around +the nest, but most of them didn't care so much about the size of his +feet as the Ducks did. Large feet are always useful, you know, yet +nobody needs them so badly as Geese and Ducks. The Geese were off +swimming, and so could not see the Duckling when first he came out of +the shell. + +"Tap-tap, tap-tap," sounded inside another shell, and they knew that +there would soon be a second damp little Duckling beside the first. The +visitors could not stay to see this one come out, and they went away +for a time. The eldest Duckling had supposed that this was life, to have +people around saying, "How bright he is!" "What fine legs!" or "He has a +beautiful bill!" And now that they all walked away and his mother was +looking after the Duckling who was just breaking her shell, he didn't +like it--he didn't like it at all. + +Still, it was much better so. If he had had no brothers and sisters, he +would have been a lonely little fellow; besides, he would have had his +own way nearly all the time, and that is likely to make any Duckling +selfish. Then, too, if all the other fowls had petted him and given him +the best of everything, he would have become vain. Truly, it was a good +thing for him not to be the only child, and he soon learned to think so. + +After there were two Ducklings, a third one came, and a fourth, and a +fifth, and so on until, when the broken shells were cleared away and +the mother had counted bills, she could call to the Drake and her +sisters, "Nine Ducklings hatched, and there were only nine eggs in the +nest." + +"Then come to the brook," said the Drake, "and let the children have a +bath. I have been swimming a great many times to-day, and they have not +even set foot in water yet. Why, our eldest son was out of his shell +before the Horses were harnessed this morning, and here it is nearly +time for their supper." + +"I couldn't help it," said the mother Duck. "I couldn't leave the nest +to take him swimming until the rest were ready to go. I am doing the +best I can." + +"I didn't mean to find fault," said the Drake, "and I suppose you +couldn't get away, but we know that Ducklings should be taught to bathe +often, and there is nothing like beginning in time." + +"I might have taken some of them to the brook," said one of the aunts. +The mother straightened her neck and held her head very high, while she +answered, "You? You are very kind, but what do you know about bringing +up Ducklings?" + +Now the aunt might have said, "I know just as much as you do," for it +was the young mother's first brood, yet she kept still. She thought, "I +may hatch Ducklings of my own some day, and then I suppose I shall want +to care for them myself." + +"Wait," said the Drake, as they reached the brook. "Let us wait and see +what the children will do." The words were hardly out of his bill +when--flutter--splash--splash!--there were nine yellow-white Ducklings +floating on the brook and murmuring happily to each other as though they +had never done anything else. + +The Dorking Cock stood on the bank. "Who taught them to swim?" said he. + +"Nobody," answered their mother proudly. "They knew without being told. +That is the way a Duck takes to water." And she gave a dainty lurch and +was among her brood. + +[Illustration: THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM.] + +"Well!" exclaimed the Dorking Cock. "I thought the little Dorkings were +as bright as children could be, but they didn't know as much as that. I +must tell them." He stalked off, talking under his breath. + +"They know more than that," said the Drake. "Did you see how they ran +ahead of us when we stopped to talk? They knew where to find water as +soon as they were out of the shell. Still, the Cock might not have +believed that if I had told him." + +They had a good swim, and then all stood on the bank and dried +themselves. This they did by squeezing the water out of their down with +their bills. The Drake, the mother Duck, the five aunts, and the nine +Ducklings all stood as tall and straight as they could, and turned and +twisted their long necks, and flapped their wings, and squeezed their +down, and murmured to each other. And their father didn't tell the +little ones how, and their mother didn't tell them how, and their five +aunts didn't tell them how, but they knew without being told. + +The Ducklings grew fast, and made friends of all the farmyard people. +Early every morning they went to the brook. They learned to follow the +brook to the river, and here were wonderful things to be seen. There was +plenty to eat, too, in the soft mud under the water, and it was easy +enough to dive to it, or to reach down their long necks while only their +pointed tails and part of their body could be seen above the water. Not +that they ate the mud. They kept only the food that they found in it, +and then let the mud slip out between the rough edges of their bills. +They swam and ate all day, and slept all night, and were dutiful +Ducklings who minded their mother, so it was not strange that they were +plump and happy. + +At last there came a morning when the eldest Duckling could not go to +the brook with the others. A Weasel had bitten him in the night, and if +it had not been for his mother and the Drake, would have carried him +away. The rest had to go in swimming, and his lame leg would not let him +waddle as far as the brook, or swim after he got there. + +"I don't know what to do," he said to his mother. "I can't swim and I +can't waddle far, and I've eaten so much already that I can't eat +anything more for a long, long time." + +"You might play with the little Shanghais," said his mother. + +"They run around too much," he replied. "I can't keep up with them." + +"Then why not lie near the corn crib and visit with the Mice?" + +"Oh, they don't like the things that I like, and it isn't any fun." + +"How would it suit you to watch the Peacock for a while?" + +"I'm tired of watching the Peacock." + +"Then," said the mother, "you must help somebody else. You are old +enough to think of such things now, and you must remember this wise +saying: 'When you don't know what to do, help somebody.'" + +"Whom can I help?" said the lame Duckling. "People can all do things for +themselves." + +"There is the Blind Horse," answered his mother. "He is alone to-day, +and I'm sure he would like somebody to visit him." + +"Quack!" said the Duckling. "I will go to see him." He waddled slowly +away, stopping now and then to rest, and shaking his little pointed tail +from side to side as Ducks do. The Blind Horse was grazing in the +pasture alone. + +"I've come to see you, sir," said the Duckling. "Shall I be in your +way?" + +The Blind Horse looked much pleased. "I think from your voice that you +must be one of the young Ducks," said he. "I shall be very glad to have +you visit me, only you must be careful to keep away from my feet, for I +can't see, and I might step on you." + +"I'll be careful," said the Duckling. "I can't waddle much anyway this +morning, because my leg hurts me so." + +"Why, I'm sorry you are lame," said the Horse. "What is the matter?" + +"A Weasel bit me in the night, sir. But it doesn't hurt so much as it +did before I came to see you. Perhaps the pasture is a better place for +lame legs than the farmyard." He didn't know that it was because he was +trying to make somebody else happy that he felt so much better, yet that +was the reason. + +The Blind Horse and the Duckling became very fond of each other and had +a fine time. The Horse told stories of his Colthood, and of the things +he had seen in his travels before he became blind. And the Duckling told +him what the other farmyard people were doing, and about the soft, +fleecy clouds that drifted across the blue sky. When the mother Duck +came to look for him, the little fellow was much surprised. "Didn't you +go to the brook?" he asked. + +"Yes," said his mother, with a smile. "We have been there all the +morning. Don't you see how high the sun is?" + +"Why-ee!" said the Duckling. "I didn't think I had been here long at +all. We've been having the nicest time. And I'm coming again, am I not?" +He asked this question of the Blind Horse. + +"I wish you would come often," answered the Blind Horse. "You have given +me a very pleasant morning. Good-bye!" + +The mother Duck and her son waddled off together. "How is your leg?" +said she. + +"I forgot all about it until I began to walk," answered the Duckling. +"Isn't that queer?" + +"Not at all," said his mother. "It was because you were making somebody +else happy. 'When you don't know what to do, help somebody.'" + + + + +THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE + + +In a sheltered corner of the farmyard, where the hedge kept off the cold +winds and the trees shaded from hot summer sunshine, there were many +hives of Bees. One could not say much for the Drones, but the others +were the busiest of all the farmyard people, and they had so much to do +that they did not often stop to visit with their neighbors. + +In each hive, or home, there were many thousand Bees, and each had his +own work. First of all, there was the Queen. You might think that being +a Queen meant playing all the time, but that is not so, for to be a +really good Queen, even in a Beehive, one must know a great deal and +keep at work all the time. The Queen Bee is the mother of all the Bee +Babies, and she spends her days in laying eggs. She is so very precious +and important a person that the first duty of the rest is to take care +of her. + +The Drones are the stoutest and finest-looking of all the Bees, but they +are lazy, very, very lazy. There are never many of them in a hive, and +like most lazy people, they spend much of their time in telling the +others how to work. They do not make wax or store honey, and as the +Worker Bees do not wish them to eat what has been put away for winter, +they do not live very long. + +Most of the Bees are Workers. They are smaller than either the Queen +Mother or the Drones, and they gather all the honey, make all the wax, +build the comb, and feed the babies. They keep the hive clean, and when +the weather is very warm, some of them fan the air with their wings to +cool it. They guard the doorway of the hive, too, and turn away the +robbers who sometimes come to steal their honey. + +In these busy homes, nobody can live long just for himself. Everybody +helps somebody else, and that makes life pleasant. The Queen Mother +often lays as many as two thousand eggs in a day. Most of these are +Worker eggs, and are laid in the small cells of the brood comb, which is +the nursery of the hive. A few are Drone eggs and are laid in large +cells. She never lays any Queen eggs, for she does not want more Queens +growing up. It is a law among the Bees that there can be only one grown +Queen living in each home. + +The Workers, however, know that something might happen to their old +Queen Mother, so, after she has gone away, they sometimes go into a cell +where she has laid a Worker egg, and take down the waxen walls between +it and the ones on either side to make a very large royal cell. They +bite away the wax with their strong jaws and press the rough edges into +shape with their feet. When this egg hatches, they do not feed the baby, +or Larva, with tasteless bread made of flower-dust, honey, and water, as +they would if they intended it to grow up a Worker or a Drone. Instead, +they make what is called royal jelly, which is quite sour, and tuck this +all around the Larva, who now looks like a little white worm. + +The royal jelly makes her grow fast, and in five days she is so large as +to nearly fill the cell. Then she stops eating, spins a cocoon, and lies +in it for about two and a half days more. When she comes out of this, +she is called a Pupa. Sixteen days after the laying of the egg, the +young Queen is ready to come out of her cell. It takes twenty-one days +for a Worker to become fully grown and twenty-five for a Drone. + +In the hive by the cedar tree, the Queen Mother was growing restless +and fussy. She knew that the Workers were raising some young Queens, and +she tried to get to the royal cells. She knew that if she could only do +that, the young Queens would never live to come out. The Workers knew +this, too, and whenever she came near there, they made her go away. + +The Queen Larvæ and Pupæ were of different ages, and one of them was now +ready to leave her cell. They could hear her crying to be let out, but +they knew that if she and the Queen Mother should meet now, one of them +would die. So instead of letting her out, they built a thick wall of wax +over the door and left only an opening through which they could feed +her. When she was hungry she ran her tongue out and they put honey on +it. + +She wondered why the Workers did not let her out, when she wanted so +much to be free. She did not yet know that Queen Mothers do not get +along well with young Queens. + +The Workers talked it over by themselves. One of them was very +tender-hearted. "It does seem too bad," said she, "to keep the poor +young Queen shut up in her cell. I don't see how you can stand it to +hear her piping so pitifully all the time. I am sure she must be +beautiful. I never saw a finer tongue than the one she runs out for +honey." + +"Humph!" said a sensible old Worker, who had seen many Queens hatched +and many swarms fly away, "you'd be a good deal more sorry if we did let +her out now. It would not do at all." + +The tender-hearted Worker did not answer this, but she talked it over +with the Drones. "I declare," said she, wiping her eyes with her +forefeet, "I can hardly gather a mouthful of honey for thinking of her." + +"Suppose you hang yourself up and make wax then," said one Drone. "It +is a rather sunshiny day, but you ought to be doing something, and if +you cannot gather honey you might do that." This was just like a Drone. +He never gathered honey or made wax, yet he could not bear to see a +Worker lose any time. + +The Worker did not hang herself up and make wax, however. She never did +that except on cloudy days, and she was one of those Bees who seem to +think that nothing will come out right unless they stop working to see +about it. There was plenty waiting to be done, but she was too sad and +anxious to do it. She might have known that since her friends were only +minding the law, it was right to keep the new Queen in her cell. + +The Queen Mother was restless and fussy. She could not think of her +work, and half the time she did not know whether she was laying a Drone +egg or a Worker egg. In spite of that, she did not make any mistake, or +put one into the wrong kind of cell. "I cannot stay here with a young +Queen," said she. "I will not stay here. I will take my friends with me +and fly away." + +Whenever she met a Worker, she struck her feelers on those of her +friend, and then this friend knew exactly how she felt about it. In this +way the news was passed around, and soon many of the Workers were as +restless as their Queen Mother. They were so excited over it at times +that the air of the hive grew very hot. After a while they would become +quiet and gather honey once more. They whispered often to each other. +"Do you know where we are going?" one said. + +"Sh!" was the answer. "The guides are looking for a good place now." + +"I wish the Queen Mother knew where we are going," said the first. + +"How could she?" replied the second. "You know very well that she has +not left the hive since she began to lay eggs. Here she comes now." + +"Oh dear!" exclaimed the Queen Mother. "I can never stand this. I +certainly cannot. To think I am not allowed to rule in my own hive! The +Workers who are guarding the royal cells drive me away whenever I go +near them. I will not stay any longer." + +"Then," said a Drone, as though he had thought of it for the first time, +"why don't you go away?" + +"I shall," said she. "Will you go with me?" + +"No," said the Drone. "I hate moving and furnishing a new house. +Besides, somebody must stay here to take care of the Workers and the +young Queen." + +The Queen Mother walked away. "When we were both young," she said to +herself, "he would have gone anywhere with me." + +And the Drone said to himself, "Now, isn't that just like a Queen +Mother! She has known all the time that there would be young Queens +coming on, and that she would have to leave, yet here she is, making the +biggest kind of fuss about it. She ought to remember that it is the +law." + +Indeed she should have remembered that it was the law, for everything is +done by law in the hive, and no one person should find fault. The law +looks after them all, and will not let any one have more than his +rightful share. + +That same afternoon there was a sudden quiet in their home. The Workers +who had been outside returned and visited with the rest. While they were +waiting, a few who were to be their guides came to the door of the hive, +struck their wings together, and gave the signal for starting. Then all +who were going with the Queen Mother hurried out of the door and flew +with her in circles overhead. "Good-bye!" they called. "Raise all the +young Queens you wish. We shall never come back. We are going far, far +away, and we shall not tell you where. It is a lovely place, a very +lovely place." + +"Let them go," said the Drones who stayed behind. "Now, isn't it time to +let out the young Queen?" + +"Not yet," answered a Worker, who stood near the door. "Not one feeler +shall she put outside her cell until that swarm is out of sight." + +The tender-hearted Worker came up wiping her eyes. "Oh, that poor Queen +Mother!" said she. "I am so sorry for her. I positively cannot gather +honey to-day, I feel so badly about her going." + +"Better keep on working," said her friend. "It's the best thing in the +world for that sad feeling. Besides, you should try to keep strong." + +"Oh, I will try to eat something from the comb," was the answer, "but I +don't feel like working." + +"Zzzt!" said the other Worker. "I think if you can eat, you can hunt +your food outside, and not take honey we have laid up for winter or food +that will be needed for the children." + +The Drones chuckled. It was all right for them to be lazy, they thought, +but they never could bear to see a Worker waste time. "Ah," cried one of +them suddenly, "what is the new swarm doing now?" + +The words were hardly out of his mouth when the Queen Mother crawled +into the hive again. "Such dreadful luck!" said she. "A cloud passed +over the sun just as we were alighting on a tree to rest." + +"I wouldn't have come back for that," said a Drone. + +"No," said she, in her airiest way, "I dare say you wouldn't, but I +would. I dare not go to a new home after a cloud has passed over the +sun. I think it is a sign of bad luck. I should never expect a single +egg to hatch if I went on. We shall try it again to-morrow." + +All the others came back with her, and the hive was once more crowded +and hot. "Oh dear!" said the tender-hearted Worker, "isn't it too bad to +think they couldn't go?" + +The next morning they started again and were quite as excited over it as +before. The Queen Mother had fussed and fidgeted all the time, although +she had laid nine hundred and seventy-three eggs while waiting, and that +in spite of interruptions. "Being busy keeps me from thinking," said +she, "and I must do something." This time the Queen Mother lighted on an +apple-tree branch, and the others clung to her until all who had left +the hive were in a great mass on the branch,--a mass as large as a small +cabbage. They meant to rest a little while and then fly away to the new +home chosen by their guides. + +While they were hanging here, the farmer came under the tree, carrying +a long pole with a wire basket fastened to the upper end. He shook the +clustered Bees gently into it, and then changed them into an empty hive +that stood beside their old home. + +"Now," said the Workers who had stayed in the old hive, "we will let out +the new Queen, for the Queen Mother will never return." + +It did not take long to bite away the waxen wall and let her out. Then +they gathered around and caressed her, and touched their feelers to her +and waited upon her, and explained why they could not let her out +sooner. She was still a soft gray color, like all young Bees when they +first come from the cell, but this soon changed to the black worn by her +people. + +The Workers flew in and out, and brought news from the hive next door. +They could not go there, for the law does not allow a Bee who lives in +one home to visit in another, but they met their old friends in the air +or when they were sipping honey. They found that the Queen Mother had +quite given up the idea of living elsewhere and was as busy as ever. The +farmer had put a piece of comb into the new hive so that she could begin +housekeeping at once. + +The new Queen was petted and kept at home until she was strong and used +to moving about. That was not long. Then she said she wanted to see the +world outside. "We will go with you," said the Drones, who were always +glad of an excuse for flying away in pleasant weather. They said there +was so much noise and hurrying around in the hive that they could never +get any real rest there during the daytime. + +So the young Queen flew far away and saw the beautiful world for the +first time. Such a blue sky! Such green grass! Such fine trees covered +with sweet-smelling blossoms! She loved it all as soon as she saw it. +"Ah," she cried, "what a wonderful thing it is to live and see all this! +I am so glad that I was hatched. But now I must hurry home, for there is +so much to be done." + +She was a fine young Queen, and the Bees were all proud of her. They let +her do anything she wished as long as she kept away from the royal +cells. She soon began to work as the old Queen Mother had done, and was +very happy in her own way. She would have liked to open the royal cells +and prevent more Queens from hatching, and when they told her it was the +law which made them keep her away, she still wanted to bite into them. + +"That poor young Queen Mother!" sighed the tender-hearted Worker. "I am +so sorry for her when she is kept away from the royal cells. This is a +sad, sad world!" But this isn't a sad world by any means. It is a +beautiful, sunshiny, happy world, and neither Queen Bees nor anybody +else should think it hard if they cannot do every single thing they +wish. The law looks after great and small, and there is no use in +pouting because we cannot do one certain thing, when there is any amount +of delightful work and play awaiting us. And the young Queen Mother knew +this. + + + + +THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND + + +The span of Bays were talking together in their stalls, and the other +Horses were listening. That was one trouble with living in the barn, you +could not say anything to your next-door neighbor without somebody else +hearing. The farmer had solid walls between the stalls, with openings so +far back that no Horse could get his head to them without breaking his +halter. This had been done to keep them from biting each other, and as +nobody but the Dappled Gray ever thought of doing such a thing, it was +rather hard on the rest. It made it difficult for the mothers to bring +up their children properly, for after a Colt was old enough to have a +stall to himself, his mother had to call out her advice and warnings so +loudly that everybody could hear, and you know it is not well to reprove +a child before company if it can be helped. Indeed, it was this very +question that was troubling the span of Bays now. Each of them had a +two-year-old Colt, and they knew that it was nearly time for the farmer +to put these Colts to work. The span of Bays were sisters, so of course +their children were cousins, and they were all very fond of each other +and of the Blind Horse, who was the uncle of the Bays and the +great-uncle of the Bay Colt and the Gray Colt. + +"I am worried about the Bay Colt," said his mother. "Since he was +brought into the barn last fall and had a stall away from me, he has +gotten into bad ways. I have told him again and again that he must not +nibble the edge of the manger, yet the first thing I heard this morning +was the grating of his teeth on the wood." + +"Well," said his aunt, "you know he is teething, and that may be the +reason." + +"That is no excuse," said his mother sternly. "He has been teething ever +since he was five days old, and he will not cut his last tooth for three +years yet. I don't call it goodness to keep from cribbing when you don't +want to crib, and the time to stop is now. Besides, if he waits until he +has all his teeth, he won't be able to break himself of the habit when +he does try." + +"That is so," said his aunt, "and he will ruin his teeth, too." + +"Pooh!" exclaimed the Bay Colt, who had heard what they were saying. "I +can stop whenever I want to, and they're my own teeth, anyway. It isn't +anybody else's business if I do ruin them." + +"There!" said his mother to his aunt, "you see what I mean. That is just +the way he talks all the time. Now what would you do?" + +"Let him alone," snorted the Dappled Gray. "Let him alone, and he will +get some Horse sense after he has been broken. He'll have a hard time of +it, but he'll come out all right." + +The Bay Colt kicked against the side of the stall, he was so vexed. +"I'll thank you to let me alone," said he. "I don't see why everybody +tells me what I ought to do. Guess I know a thing or two." + +"I'll tell you why," said the Dappled Gray, in a voice that sounded as +though he were trying very hard not to lose his temper. "It is because +you are young and we like you, and we can save you trouble if you mind +what we tell you. I had lost the black pits in my front teeth before you +were born, and when a Horse has lived long enough to lose the black pits +from his front teeth, he knows a good deal. You don't know a curb-bit +from a snaffle now, but you will learn many things when you are +broken--a very great many things." + +The Bay Colt tossed his head and did not answer. When he was led out to +drink, the Dappled Gray spoke quickly to his friends. "We will let him +alone," said he, "as he wishes. We will not advise him until he asks us +to do so." They were all whinnying "Yes" when the Bay Colt came back. +Then it became so still that you could have heard a stem of hay drop. + +For a few days after this, the Bay Colt had a very good time. Nobody +gave him any advice, and even when he gnawed at the edge of the manger, +his mother did not seem to notice it. After he found that she didn't say +anything, he didn't gnaw, or crib, so much. He was such a foolish and +contrary young fellow that when people told him not to do a thing, he +always wanted to do that thing worse than anything else in the world. +His cousin, the Gray Colt, was not at all like him. She was a gentle +little two-year-old whom everybody loved. She was full of fun and was +the gayest possible companion in the meadow, yet when the older Horses +gave her advice, she always listened and obeyed. + +The Bay Colt was very fond of his cousin, but he did like to tease her, +and once in the fall, before they came to stay in the barn, he called +her a "goody-goody" because she wouldn't jump the fence and run away +with him. He said she wouldn't do such things because she didn't know +what fun was. Then she did show that she had a temper, for her brown +eyes snapped and her soft lips were raised until she showed all her +biting teeth. "I'm not a 'goody-goody,'" she cried, stamping the ground +with her pretty little hoofs, "and I just ache to go. I feel as though +there were ropes that I couldn't see, pulling me toward that fence +every time I think of it, but I won't go! I won't go! My mother says +that she jumped a fence and ran away when she was a Colt, and that she +felt as mean as could be afterward." + +"I don't care," said her cousin, "I'm going anyway, and you can stay at +home if you want to. Good-bye!" He ran and leaped over the fence, and +trotted down the road with his head well up and his tail in the air. And +then how the Gray Colt did want to follow! "I won't!" she said again. "I +won't do it. I'll look the other way and try to forget it, but I wish he +knew how hard it is to be good sometimes." + +The next morning the Bay Colt was in the pasture again. The farmer and +his man had found him far away and led him back. "I had a fine time," he +said to his cousin, "and I don't feel a bit mean. I'm going again +to-day, but don't you tell." When his mother scolded him as he +deserved, he just switched his tail and thought about something else +until she stopped talking. Then he ran away again. + +The next morning when the Gray Colt saw him, he had a queer wooden thing +around his neck, and fastened to this was a pole that stuck out ahead of +him. It tired his neck and bothered him when he wanted to run. If he had +tried to jump the fence, it would have thrown him down. When the Gray +Colt came toward him, he pretended not to see her. He might just as well +have looked squarely at her as soon as she came, because, you know, he +had to look at her sometime, but he had a mean, slinking, afraid +feeling, such as people always have when they have done something wrong +and have had time to think about it. Besides, he had changed his mind +since the wooden poke had been put on him, and somehow his running away +seemed very foolish now. He wondered how he could ever have thought it +any fun, and he was so disgusted that he couldn't keep his ears still, +but moved them restlessly when he remembered his own silliness. + +The Gray Colt was too polite to say anything about his wearing the poke, +and she talked about the grass, the sky, the trees, and everything else +she could think of. Once she was about to speak of the fence, and then +she remembered and stopped short. The Bay Colt noticed this. "You might +just as well go on," said he. "You are very kind, but I know how foolish +I have been, and there's no use in keeping still. You were right, and it +doesn't pay to jump fences for a few minutes of what you think will be +fun. I feel sick all over when I think about it." + +"It's too bad," whinnied the Gray Colt. "I'm very sorry for you." + +"And what do you think?" said the Bay Colt. "I heard the Dappled Gray +say this morning that I was like a Pig! Imagine a Colt being like a Pig! +He said that it didn't make any difference on which side of a fence Pigs +were, they always wanted to be on the other side, and that I was just as +stupid." + +This was all in the fall, before the cold weather had sent them to live +in the barn, and while the Bay Colt was wearing the poke he could not +well forget the lesson he had learned about jumping and running away. +His mother grew quite proud of him, and the Dappled Gray had been heard +to say that he might amount to something yet. That was a great deal for +the Dappled Gray to say, for although he had a very kind heart, he did +not often praise people, and hardly ever said such things about +two-year-olds. That made it all the harder for him when the Bay Colt +became cross over being told to stop cribbing. + +You know there are some Colts who learn obedience easily, and there are +others who have one hard struggle to stop jumping, and another to stop +cribbing, and another to stop kicking, and so on, all through their +Colthood. The older Horses are sorry for them and try to help them, for +they know that neither Colt nor Horse can really enjoy life until he is +trying to do right. To be sure, people sometimes do wrong even then, but +if they will take advice and keep on trying they are certain to turn out +well. + +And now, when the Bay Colt seemed to have forgotten the lesson he had in +the fall, and after he had told the other Horses to let him alone, very +strange things began to happen. The farmer took him from his stall and +made him open his mouth. Then a piece of iron was slipped into it, which +lay on top of his tongue and fitted into the place on each side of his +jaw where there were no teeth. Long lines were fastened to this iron on +either side, and when he tossed his head and sidled around, these lines +were gently pulled by the farmer and the iron bit pressed down his +tongue. + +The farmer was very kind, but the Bay Colt did not want the bit in his +mouth, so he acted as ugly as he knew how, and kicked, and snapped with +his jaws open, and tried to run. The farmer did not grow angry or cross, +yet whenever the Bay Colt showed his temper, the bit would press down +his tongue and stretch the corners of his mouth until he had to stop. +Once in a while the farmer would try to pat him and show him that it was +all right, but the Bay Colt would not have this, and he was a very cross +and sweaty two-year-old when he was taken back to his stall. + +He missed the Gray Colt from her usual place, but soon she came in with +one of the farmer's men. She had been driven for the first time also. + +"Hallo!" said he. "Have you had a bit in your mouth too? Wasn't it +dreadful? I am so angry that my hoofs fairly tingle to hit that farmer." + +"It was hard," said the Gray Colt, "but the man who drove me was very +kind and let me rest often. He patted me, too, and that helped me to be +brave. My mother says we won't mind the bit at all after we are used to +it." + +"Well," said the Bay Colt, "I'm never going to be used to it. I won't +stand it, and that's all there is about it." He stamped his hoofs and +looked very important. Two-year-olds often look quite as important as +ten-year-olds, and they feel much more so. The Bay Colt was rather proud +of his feet, and thought it much nicer to have solid hoofs than to have +them split, like those of the Cows, the Hogs, and the Sheep. + +[Illustration: HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES.] + +When he said that he would not stand it to be driven, a queer little +sound ran through the stalls. It was like the wind passing over a +wheatfield, and was caused by the older Horses taking a long breath and +whispering to themselves. The Bay Colt's mother was saying, "Poor child! +What hard work he does make of life!" + +The next day both Colts were driven again, and the next day, and the +next, and the next. By this time the Gray Colt was quite used to it. She +said she rather enjoyed knowing what the man was thinking, and that she +could tell his thoughts by the feeling of the lines, much as she used to +understand her mother by rubbing noses when she was a tiny Colt. Her +cousin had a sore mouth from jerking on the lines, and he could not +enjoy eating at all. That made it even harder for him, because he got +very hungry, and it is not so easy to be sensible when one is hungry. + +When the Gray Colt learned to walk steadily and turn as her driver +wished, she was allowed to draw a light log through the furrows of a +field. This tired her, but it made her very proud, and she arched her +neck and took the daintiest of steps. It was not necessary that the log +should be drawn over the field; still, she did not know this, and +thought it was real work, when it was done only to teach her to pull. +The man who was driving her patted her neck and held her nose in his +hand. When he stopped to eat an apple, he gave her the core, and she +thought she had never tasted anything so good. As she went back to her +stall, she called to the Horses near, "I have been working. I have drawn +a log all around a field." + +The Blind Horse spoke softly to her. "You will have a happy life, my +dear, because you are a willing worker." + +Although the Bay Colt didn't say anything, he thought a great deal, and +about many things. While he was thinking he began to crib, but the +noise of his biting teeth on the wood startled him, and he shook his +head and whispered to himself, "I will never crib again." When he ate +his supper, his sore mouth hurt him, but he didn't whimper. "You deserve +it," he said to himself. "It wouldn't have been sore if you had been +steady like your cousin." The Bay Colt was growing sensible very fast. + +The Dappled Gray had noticed how suddenly he stopped cribbing, and so +watched him for a few days. He saw that the Bay Colt was in earnest, +that he drew the log up and down without making any fuss, and was soon +hitched with his mother to a plow. The Dappled Gray and the Blind Horse +were also plowing that day, and they called across from their field. +"Fine day for plowing," they said. + +"Perfect," answered the Bay Colt. "Did you notice the last furrow we +turned? Can you do any better than that? If I had jumped, it would have +been crooked instead of straight; and if I had stopped, it would not be +done yet." + +"Good furrow! Wonderful furrow!" answered the Dappled Gray. "Always knew +you'd be a good worker when you got down to it. You are one of us now, +one of the working Horses. Glad of it. Good-bye!" And he turned away to +start his plow across the field again. + +"Do you like being grown up?" said the Bay Colt's mother to him. + +"Like it?" he answered with a laugh. "I'm so proud that I don't know +what to do. I wouldn't go back to the old life of all play for anything +in the world. And my little cousin made me see my mistakes. Was there +ever another Colt as foolish as I?" + +"A great many of them," said his mother. "More than you would guess. +They kick and bite and try to run because they cannot always have their +own way; and then, when they have tried the farmer's way, and begin to +pay for his care of them, they find it very much better than the life of +all play. Colts will be Colts." + + + + +THE TWIN LAMBS + + +There was a Lamb, a bright, frisky young fellow, who had a twin sister. +Their mother loved them both and was as kind to one as to the other, but +the brother wanted to have the best of everything, and sometimes he even +bunted his sister with his hard little forehead. His mother had to speak +to him many times about this, for he was one of those trying children +who will not mind when first spoken to. + +He did not really mean to be naughty--he was only strong and frisky and +thoughtless. Sometimes he was even rude to his mother. She felt very sad +when this was so, yet she loved him dearly and found many excuses for +him in her own heart. + +There were three other pairs of twins in the flock that year, and as +their mothers were not strong enough to care for two Lambs apiece, the +farmer had taken one twin from each pair to a little pen near the house. +Here they stayed, playing happily together, and drinking milk from a +bottle which the farmer's wife brought to them. They were hungry very +often, like all young children, and when their stomachs began to feel +empty, or even to feel as if they might feel empty, they crowded against +the side of the pen, pushed their pinkish-white noses through the +openings between the boards, and bleated and bleated and bleated to the +farmer's wife. + +Soon she would come from the kitchen door and in her hand would bring +the big bottle full of milk for them. There was a soft rubber top to +this bottle, through which the Lambs could draw the milk into their +mouths. Of course they all wanted to drink at once, though there was +only a chance for one, and the others always became impatient while they +were waiting. The farmer's wife was patient, even when the Lambs, in +their hurry to get the milk, took her fingers into their mouths and bit +them instead of the top of the bottle. + +Our twin Lamb wanted to have his sister taken into the pen with the +other three, and he spoke about it to his mother. "I know how you can +manage," said he. "Whenever she comes near you, just walk away from her, +and then the farmer will take her up to the pen." + +"You selfish fellow!" answered his mother. "Do you want your dear little +twin sister to leave us?" + +He hung his head for a minute, but replied, "She'd have just as good a +time. They have all they can eat up there, and they have lots of fun." + +[Illustration: FEEDING THE LAMBS.] + +"If you think it is so pleasant in the pen," said his mother, "suppose I +begin to walk away from you, and let the farmer take you away. I think +your sister would rather stay with me." + +"Oh, no!" cried her son. "I don't want to leave my own dear woolly +mother! I want to cuddle up to you every night and have you tell me +stories about the stars." + +"Do you think you love me very much?" said she. "You don't know how to +really love yet, for you are selfish, and there is not room in a selfish +heart for the best kind of love." + +That made the Lamb feel very badly. "I do love her dearly," he cried, as +he stood alone. "I believe I love her ever so much more than my sister +does." + +That was where the little fellow was mistaken, for although his sister +did not talk so much about it, she showed her love in many other ways. +If she had been taken from her mother for even a few days, they could +never again have had such sweet and happy days together. Sheep look +much alike, and they cannot remember each other's faces very long. If a +Lamb is taken away from his mother for even a short time, they do not +know each other when they meet afterward. Perhaps this is one reason why +they keep together so much, for it would be sad indeed not to know one's +mother or one's child. + +His sister never knew that he had wanted her taken away. She thought he +acted queerly sometimes, but she was so loving and unselfish herself +that she did not dream of his selfishness. Instead of putting the idea +out of his woolly little head, as he could have done by thinking more of +other things, the brother let himself think of it more and more. That +made him impatient with even his mother, and he often answered her quite +crossly. Sometimes, when she spoke to him, he did not answer at all, and +that was just as bad. + +His mother would sigh and say to herself, "My child is not a comfort to +me after all, yet when I looked for the first time into his dear little +face, I thought that as long as I had him beside me I should always be +happy." + +One night, when the weather was fair and warm, the farmer drove all the +Sheep and Lambs into the Sheep-shed. They had been lying out under the +beautiful blue sky at night, and they did not like this nearly so well. +They did not understand it either, so they were frightened and +bewildered, and bleated often to each other, "What is this for? What is +this for?" + +The Lambs did not mind it so much, for they were not warmly dressed, but +the Sheep, whose wool had been growing for a year and was long and +heavy, found it very close and uncomfortable. They did not know that the +farmer had a reason for keeping them dry that night while the heavy dew +was falling outside. The same thing was done every year, but they could +not remember so long as that, and having a poor memory is always hard. + +"Stay close to me, children," said the mother of the twins. "I may +forget how you look if you are away long." + +"It seems to me," said the brother, "that we always have to stay close +to you. I never have a bit of fun!" + +When they had cuddled down for the night, the twin Lambs slept soundly. +Their mother lay awake for a long, long time in the dark, and she was +not happy. A few careless words from a selfish little Lamb had made her +heart ache. They were not true words either, for during the daytime her +children ran with their playmates and had fine frolics. Still, we know +that when people are out of patience they often say things that are not +really so. + +In the morning, men came into the barn, which opened off the +Sheep-shed. They had on coarse, old clothing, and carried queer-looking +shears in their hands. The Sheep could see them now and then when the +door was open. Once the farmer stood in the doorway and seemed to be +counting them. This made them huddle together more closely than ever. +They could see the men carrying clean yellow straw into the barn and +spreading it on the floor. On top of this was stretched a great sheet of +clean cloth. + +Then the men began to come into the shed and catch the Sheep and carry +them into the barn. They were frightened and bleated a good deal, but +when one was caught and carried away, although he might struggle hard to +free himself, he did not open his mouth. The old Wether Sheep was the +first to be taken, and then the young ones who had been Lambs the year +before. For a long time not one of the mothers was chosen. Still, nobody +knew what would happen next, and so, the fewer Sheep there were left, +the more closely they huddled together. + +At last, when the young Sheep had all been taken, one of the men caught +the mother of the twins and carried her away. She turned her face toward +her children, but the door swung shut after her, and they were left with +the other Lambs and their mothers. From the barn came the sound of +snip-snip-snipping and the murmur of men's voices. Once the twins +thought they saw their mother lying on the floor and a man kneeling +beside her, holding her head and forelegs under his arm, yet they were +not sure of this. + +The brother ran to the corner of the shed and put his head against the +boards. He suddenly felt very young and helpless. "My dear woolly +mother!" he said to himself, over and over, and he wondered if he would +ever see her again. He remembered what he had said to her the night +before. It seemed to him that he could even now hear his own voice +saying crossly, "Seems to me we always have to stay close to you. I +never have a bit of fun!" He wished he had not said it. He knew she was +a dear mother, and he would have given anything in the world for a +chance to stay close to her again. + +His sister felt as lonely and frightened as he, but she did not act in +the same way. She stood close to a younger Lamb whose mother had just +been taken away, and tried to comfort her. One by one the mothers were +taken until only the Lambs remained. They were very hungry now, and +bleated pitifully. Still the twin brother stood with his head in the +corner. He had closed his eyes, but now he opened them, and through a +crack in the wall of the shed, he saw some very slender and +white-looking Sheep turned into the meadow. At first they acted dizzy, +and staggered instead of walking straight; then they stopped staggering +and began to frisk. "Can it be?" said he. "It surely is!" For, although +he had never in his short life seen a newly shorn Sheep, he began to +understand what had happened. + +He knew that the men had only been clipping the long wool from the +Sheep, and that they were now ready for warm weather. No wonder they +frisked when their heavy burdens of wool were carefully taken off. + +Now the farmer opened the door into the barn again, and let the Lambs +walk through it to the gate of the meadow. They had never before been +inside this barn, and the twin brother looked quickly around as he +scampered across the floor. He saw some great ragged bundles of wool, +and a man was just rolling up the last fleece. He wondered if that had +been taken from his mother and was the very one against which he had +cuddled when he was cold or frightened. + +When they first reached the pasture, the Lambs could not tell which +were their mothers. Shearing off their long and dingy fleeces had made +such a difference in their looks! The twin brother knew his mother by +her way of walking and by her voice, but he could see that his sister +did not know her at all. He saw his mother wandering around as though +she did not know where to find her children, and a naughty plan came +into his head. If he could keep his sister from finding their mother for +even a short time, he knew that the farmer would take her up to the pen. +He thought he knew just how to do it, and he started to run to her. Then +he stopped and remembered how sad and lonely he had been without his +mother only a little while before, and he began to pity the Lambs in the +pen. + +Now his selfishness and his goodness were fighting hard in him. One +said, "Send your sister away," and the other, "Take her to your mother." +At last he ran as fast as he could toward his sister. "I am good now," +he said to himself, "but it may not last long. I will tell her before I +am naughty again." + +"Oh sister!" cried he. "Come with me to our mother. She doesn't know +where to find us." + +He saw a happy look on his sister's sad little face, and he was glad +that he had done the right thing. They skipped away together, kicking up +their heels as they went, and it seemed to the brother that he had never +been so happy in his life. He was soon to be happier, though, for when +they reached his "new, white mother," as he called her, and his sister +told her how he had shown her the way, his mother said, "Now you are a +comfort to me. You will be a happier Lamb, too, for you know that a +mother's heart is large enough for all her children, and that the more +one loves, the better he loves." + +"Why, of course," said the twin sister. "What do you mean?" + +But the mother never told her, and the brother never told her, and it is +hoped that you will keep the secret. + + + + +THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE + + +The Mice who lived in the barn and around the granaries had many cousins +living on the farm who were pleasant people to know. Any one could tell +by looking at them that they were related, yet there were differences in +size, in the coloring of their fur, in their voices, and most of all in +their ways of living. Some of these cousins would come to visit at the +barn in winter, when there was little to eat in the fields. The Meadow +Mice never did this. They were friendly with the people who came from +the farmyard to graze in the meadow, yet when they were asked to return +the call, they said, "No, thank you. We are an out-of-door family, and +we never enter houses. We do not often go to the farmyard, but we are +always glad to see you here. Come again." + +When the Cows are in the meadow, they watch for these tiny people, and +stop short if they hear their voices from the grass near by. Of course +the Horses are careful, for Horses will never step on any person, large +or small, if they can help it. They are very particular about this. + +All through the meadow you can see, if you look sharply, shallow winding +paths among the grasses, and these paths are worn by the running to and +fro of the Meadow Mice. Their homes are in stumps of trees or in the +higher ground near the ditches. In these homes the baby Meadow Mice stay +until they are large enough to go out into the great world and eat +roots, grasses, and seeds with their fathers and mothers. Sometimes they +do go out a little way with their mother before this, and they go in a +very funny fashion. Of course, when they are babies, they drink warm +milk from her body as the children of most four-legged people do. +Sometimes a young Meadow Mouse does not want to stop drinking his milk +when it is time for his mother to leave the nest, so he just hangs on to +her with his tiny, toothless mouth, and when she goes she drags him +along on the ground beside her. The ground is rather rough for such soft +little babies, and they do not go far in this way, but are glad enough +to snuggle down again with their brothers and sisters. + +There is no danger of their being lonely, even when their mother is +away, for the Meadow Mice have large families, and where there are ten +babies of the same age, or even only six, which is thought a small +family among their people, it is not possible for one to feel alone. + +There were two fine Meadow Mice who built their nest in the bank of a +ditch and were much liked by all their relatives. They had raised many +children to full-grown Mousehood, and were kind and wise parents. When +their children were married and had homes of their own, they still liked +to come back to visit. The father and mother were gentle and kindly, as +all Mice are, and were almost as handsome as when they first began to +gnaw. Nobody could say that he ever saw a bit of dust on either of them. + +The brown fur of the upper part of their bodies and the grayish-white +fur underneath always lay sleek and tidy, and from their long whiskers +to the tips of their hairless tails, they were as dainty as possible. +That was one reason why they were so fine-looking, for you know it makes +no difference how beautiful one may be in the first place, if he does +not try to keep clean he is not pleasant to look at, while many quite +plain people are charming because they look well and happy and clean. + +Now this pair of Mice had eight Mouse babies in their nest. The babies +were no larger than Bumble Bees at first and very pink. This was not +because their fur was pink, but only because it was so very short that +through it and their thin skin one saw the glow of the red blood in +their veins. + +"Did you ever see such beautiful babies?" said their mother proudly to +her neighbors. "They are certainly the finest I ever had." Her friends +smiled, for she always said the same thing whenever she had little ones. +Yet they understood, for they had children of their own, and knew that +although mothers love all alike, there is always a time when the +youngest seems the most promising. That is before they are old enough to +be naughty. + +The days passed, and the eight baby Meadow Mice ate and slept and pushed +each other around, and talked in their sweet, squeaky little voices. +They were less pink every day and more the color of their father and +mother. They grew, too, so fast that the nest was hardly large enough +for them, and the teeth were showing in their tiny pink mouths. Their +mother saw that they would soon be ready to go out into the world, and +she began to teach them the things they needed to know. She took them +outside the nest each pleasant day and gave them lessons in running and +gnawing, and showed them how to crouch down on the brown earth and lie +still until danger was past. After she had told them many things, she +would ask them short questions to make sure that they remembered. + +"How many great dangers are there?" she said. + +"Five," answered the little Mice. + +"What are they?" + +"Hawks, Owls, Weasels, Cats, and men." + +"Tell me about Hawks." + +"Hawks are big birds who seem to float in the air. They have very sharp +eyes, and when they see a Mouse they drop suddenly down and catch him. +They fly in the daytime." + +"Tell me about Owls." + +"They are big birds who fly by night without making any noise. They can +see from far away, and they catch Mice." + +"Tell me about Weasels." + +"They are slender little animals, nearly twice as long as a Mouse. They +have small heads, four short legs, and sharp claws; have brown fur on +their backs and white underneath, and sometimes, when the weather is +very cold, they turn white all over." + +"Tell me about Cats." + +"Cats are very much bigger than Weasels, and are of many colors. They +have long tails and whiskers, and dreadful great eyes. They walk on four +legs, but make no noise because they have cushions on their feet." + +"Tell me about men." + +"Men are very big, two-legged people, and when they are fully grown are +taller than Cows. They make noise in walking, and they can neither smell +nor see us from afar." + +"And what are you to do when you see these dangers coming?" + +"We are to run away as fast as we can from Hawks, Weasels, Owls, and +Cats. If a man comes near us, we are to lie perfectly still and watch +him, and are not to move unless we are sure that he sees us or is likely +to step on us. Men do not know so much about Mice as the other dangers +do." + +"And what if you are not sure that some creature is a Hawk, an Owl, a +Weasel, or a Cat?" + +"If we even think it may be, we are to run." + +"When are you to run?" + +"At once." + +"Say that again." + +"We are to run at once." + +"Very good. That is all for to-day." + +You can see how well the Meadow Mouse mother brought up her children, +and how carefully she taught them about life. If they had been wise and +always minded her, they would have saved themselves much trouble. + +Seven of them were dutiful and obedient, but the largest of the eight, +and the finest-looking, liked to decide things for himself, and often +laughed at his brothers and sisters for being afraid. Because he was so +big and handsome, and spoke in such a dashing way, they sometimes +wondered if he didn't know as much as their mother. + +One sunshiny day, when all the eight children were playing and feeding +together in the short grass, one of them saw a great black bird in the +air. "Oh, look!" she cried. "That may be a Hawk. We'd better run." + +"Pooh!" said the biggest little Meadow Mouse. "Who's afraid?" + +"Mother said to run," they squeaked, and seven long bare tails whisked +out of sight under a stump. + +"Ho-ho!" said the biggest little Meadow Mouse. "Before I'd be so scared! +I dare you to come back! I dare you to----" + +Just then the Hawk swooped down. And that is the end of the story, for +after that, there was no foolish little Meadow Mouse to tell about. + + + + +THE LONELY LITTLE PIG + + +One day the Brown Hog called to her twelve young Pigs and their ten +older brothers and sisters, "Look! look! What is in that cage?" + +The twenty-two stubby snouts that were thrust through the opening of the +rail-fence were quivering with eagerness and impatience. Their owners +wished to know all that was happening, and the old mother's eyes were +not so sharp as they had once been, so if the Pigs wanted to know the +news, they must stop their rooting to find it out. Bits of the soft +brown earth clung to their snouts and trembled as they breathed. + +"It looks like a Pig," they said, "only it is white." + +"It is a Pig then," grunted their mother, as she lay in the shade of an +oak tree. "There are white Pigs, although I never fancied the color. It +looks too cold and clean. Brown is more to my taste, brown or black. +Your poor father was brown and black, and a finer looking Hog I never +saw. Ugh! Ugh!" And she buried her eyes in the loose earth. The Pigs +looked at her and then at each other. They did not often speak of their +father. Indeed the younger ones did not remember him at all. One of the +Cows said he had such a bad temper that the farmer sent him away, and it +is certain that none of them had seen him since the day he was driven +down the lane. + +While they were thinking of this and feeling rather sad, the wagon +turned into their lane and they could plainly see the Pig inside. She +was white and quite beautiful in her piggish way. Her ears stood up +stiffly, her snout was as stubby as though it had been broken off, her +eyes were very small, and her tail had the right curl. When she squealed +they could see her sharp teeth, and when she put her feet up on the +wooden bars of her rough cage, they noticed the fine hoofs on the two +big toes of each foot and the two little toes high on the back of her +legs, each with its tiny hoof. She was riding in great style, and it is +no wonder that the twenty-two Brown Pigs with black spots and black feet +opened their eyes very wide. They did not know that the farmer brought +her in this way because he was in a hurry, and Pigs will not make haste +when farmers want them to. The Hogs are a queer family, and the Off Ox +spoke truly when he said that the only way to make one hurry ahead is to +tie a rope to his leg and pull back, they are so sure to be contrary. + +"She's coming here!" the Brown Pigs cried. "Oh, Mother, she's coming +here! We're going to see the men take her out of her cage." + +The old Hog grunted and staggered to her feet to go with them, but she +was fat and slow of motion, so that by the time she was fairly standing, +they were far down the field and running helter-skelter by the side of +the fence. As she stared dully after them she could see the twenty-two +curly tails bobbing along, and she heard the soft patter of eighty-eight +sharp little double hoofs on the earth. + +"Ugh!" she grunted. "Ugh! Ugh! I am too late to go. Never mind! They +will tell me all about it, and I can take a nap. I haven't slept half +the time to-day, and I need rest." + +Just as the Mother Hog lay down again, the men lifted the White Pig from +the wagon, cage and all, so she began to squeal, and she squealed and +squealed and squealed and squealed until she was set free in the field +with the Brown Pigs. Nobody had touched her and nobody had hurt her, +but it was all so strange and new that she thought it would make her +feel better to squeal. When she was out of her cage and in the field, +she planted her hoofs firmly in the ground, looked squarely at the Brown +Pigs, and grunted a pleasant, good-natured grunt. The Brown Pigs planted +their hoofs in the ground and grunted and stared. They didn't ask her to +go rooting with them, and not one of the ten big Pigs or the twelve +little Pigs said, "We are glad to see you." + +There is no telling how long they would have stood there if the Horses +had not turned the wagon just then. The minute the wheels began to grate +on the side of the box, every Brown Pig whirled around and ran off. + +The poor little White Pig did not know what to make of it. She knew that +she had not done anything wrong. She wondered if they didn't mean to +speak to her. + +[Illustration: EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF.] + +At first she thought she would run after them and ask to root with them, +but then she remembered something her mother had told her when she was +so young that she was pink. It was this: "When you don't know what to +do, go to sleep." So she lay down and took a nap. + +The Brown Pigs did not awaken their mother, and when they stopped in the +fence-corner one of them said to their big sister, "What made you run?" + +"Oh, nothing," said she. + +"And why did you run?" the little Pigs asked their big brother. + +"Because," he answered. + +After a while somebody said, "Let's go back to where the White Pig is." + +"Oh, no," said somebody else, "don't let's! She can come over here if +she wants to, and it isn't nearly so nice there." + +You see, they were very rude Pigs and not at all well brought up. Their +mother should have taught them to think of others and be kind, which is +really all there is to politeness. But then, she had very little time +left from sleeping, and it took her all of that for eating, so her +children had no manners at all. + +At last the White Pig opened her round eyes and saw all the Brown Pigs +at the farther end of the field. "Ugh!" said she to herself, "Ugh! I +must decide what to do before they see that I am awake." She lay there +and tried to think what her mother, who came of a very fine family, had +told her before she left. "If you have nobody to play with," her mother +had said, "don't stop to think about it, and don't act as though you +cared. Have a good time by yourself and you will soon have company. If +you cannot enjoy yourself, you must not expect others to enjoy you." + +"That is what I will do," exclaimed the White Pig. "My mother always +gives her children good advice when they go out into the world, and she +is right when she says that Pigs of fine family should have fine +manners. I will never forget that I am a Yorkshire. I'm glad I didn't +say anything mean." + +So the White Pig rooted in the sunshine and wallowed in the warm brown +earth that she had stirred up with her pink snout. Once in a while she +would run to the fence to watch somebody in the lane, and before she +knew it she was grunting contentedly to herself. "Really," she said, "I +am almost having a good time. I will keep on making believe that I would +rather do this than anything else." + + * * * * * + +The big sister of the Brown Pigs looked over to the White Pig and said, +"She's having lots of fun all by herself, it seems to me." + +Big brother raised his head. "Let's call her over here," he answered. + +"Oh, do!" cried the twelve little Pigs, wriggling their tails. "She +looks so full of fun." + +"Call her yourself," said the big sister to the big brother. + +"Ugh!" called he. "Ugh! Ugh! Don't you want to come over with us, White +Pig?" + +You can imagine how the White Pig felt when she heard this; how her +small eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up more than +ever. She was just about to scamper over and root with them, when she +remembered something else that her mother had told her: "Never run after +other Pigs. Let them run after you. Then they will think more of you." + +She called back, "I'm having too good a time here to leave my +rooting-ground. Won't you come over here?" + +"Come on," cried all the little Pigs to each other. "Beat you there!" + +They ate and talked and slept together all afternoon, and when the Brown +Hog called her children home, they and the White Pig were the best of +friends. "Just think," they said to their mother, "the White Pig let us +visit her, and she is just as nice as she can be." + +The White Pig in her corner of the pen heard this and smiled to herself. +"My mother was right," she said; "'Have a good time alone, and everybody +will want to come.'" + + + + +THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF + + +"I think," said the Blind Horse, "that something is the matter with my +ears." He and the Dappled Gray had been doing field-work all the +morning, and were now eating a hearty dinner in their stalls. They were +the only people on the first floor of the barn. Even the stray Doves who +had wandered in the open door were out in the sunshine once more. Once +in a while the whirr of wings told that some Swallow darted through the +window into the loft above and flew to her nest under the roof. There +was a deep and restful quiet in the sun-warmed air, and yet the Blind +Horse had seemed to be listening to something which the other did not +hear. + +The Dappled Gray stopped eating at once. "Your ears?" said he. "What is +wrong with them? I thought your hearing was very good." + +"It always has been," was the answer, "and finer than ever since I lost +my sight. You know it is always so with us blind people. We learn to +hear better than we could before losing our sight. But ever since we +came in from the field I have had a queer sound in my ears, and I think +there is something the matter with them." + +The Dappled Gray stopped eating and stood perfectly still to listen. He +did not even switch his tail, although at that minute there were three +Flies on his left side and one on his neck. He was trying as hard as he +could to hear the queer sound also, for if he did, it would prove that +the noise was real and that the Blind Horse's hearing was all right. + +He could not hear a thing. "What is it like?" he asked. + +"Like the loud purring of a Cat," was the answer, "but everybody knows +that the Cat is not purring anywhere around here." + +"She might be," said the Dappled Gray. "Where does the sound seem to +be?" + +"Above my head," said the Blind Horse; "and she certainly would not be +purring up there at this time. She would either be sound asleep, or off +hunting, or else out in the sunshine, where she loves to sit." + +The Dappled Gray felt that this was so, and he could not say a word. He +was very sorry for his friend. He thought how dreadful it would seem to +be both blind and deaf, and he choked on the oats he was swallowing. + +"Now don't worry," said the Blind Horse; "if I should be deaf, I could +still feel the soft touch of the breeze on my skin, and could taste my +good food, and rub noses with my friends. I wouldn't have spoken of it, +only I hoped that you could hear the noise also, and then I would know +that it was real." That was just like him. He was always patient and +sweet-tempered. In all the years he had been blind, he had never once +complained of it, and many times when the other Horses were about to say +or do some ill-natured thing, they thought of him and stopped. They were +ashamed to be impatient when they were so much better off than he. + +The Horses kept on eating their oats and resting from their hard work. +In the hay-loft above their heads, the Cat lay and purred and purred and +purred, never dreaming that her doing so made trouble for her friends +downstairs. + +She had been hunting all the night before, creeping softly through the +barn and hiding behind bags and boxes to watch for careless Mice and +young Rats. They were night-runners as well as she, and many things +happened in the barn and farmyard while the larger four-legged people +were sound asleep and the fowls were dreaming with their heads tucked +under their wings. Sometimes there were not so many Mice in the morning +as there had been the evening before, and when this was so, the Cat +would walk slowly through the barn and look for a comfortable +resting-place. When she found it, she would turn around three times, as +her great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother used to do to +trample a bed in the jungle, and then lie down for a long nap. She said +she always slept better when her stomach was full, and that was the +habit of all Cats. + +Sometimes she hunted in the fields, and many a morning at sunrise the +Cows had seen her walking toward the barn on the top of the fences. She +did not like to wet her feet on the dewy grass when it could be helped; +so, as soon as she was through hunting, she jumped on to the nearest +fence and went home in that way. + +Yes, last night she had been hunting, yet she was not thinking of it +now. Neither was she asleep. A Rat gnawed at the boards near her, and +she hardly turned her head. A Mouse ran across the floor in plain sight, +and she watched him without moving. What did she care about them now? +Her first Kittens lay on the hay beside her, and she would not leave +them on this first day of their lives unless she really had to. + +Of course she had seen little Kittens before--Kittens that belonged to +other Cats--but she was certain that none of them had looked at all like +her three charming babies. She could not decide which one of them was +the most beautiful. She was a Tortoise-shell Cat herself, and her fur +was spotted with white, black, and yellow. The babies had the same +colors on their soft coats, but not in just the same way as hers. + +At first she thought her largest daughter was the beauty of the family; +she was such a clear yellow, with not a hair of any other color on her. +"I always did like yellow Cats," said the young mother, "and they are +said to be very strong." + +Then she looked at her smaller daughter, who was white with tiny yellow +and black spots on neck and head. "Such a clean-looking baby," she +exclaimed, "and I am sure that when her eyes are open I shall find them +blue like my own." + +Just at this moment, the warm, dark little bunch of fur between her +forepaws moved, and she looked lovingly down upon him, her only son. "He +is certainly a very remarkable one," she said. "I never before saw such +a fine mixture of yellow and black, first a hair of one and then a hair +of the other, so that, unless one is very close to him it looks like a +rich brown. And then his feet!" She gave him a loving little poke with +one forefoot and turned him onto his back. This made him wave his tiny +paws in the air. The thick cushions of skin on each were as black as +black could be, and that is very uncommon. They are usually pink, like +those of his sisters. + +The little fellow lay there, wriggling very feebly, until his mother +gave him another poke that turned him over. Then he stretched and +crawled toward her, reaching his head first one way and then another. He +was so weak that he could not raise his body from the hay, but dragged +it along by taking short and uncertain steps with his four shaking legs. +It was only a short time since he found that he had legs, and he hadn't +any idea how to use them. He just moved whichever one seemed most in his +way. + +He didn't know where he was going, or what he was going for, but his +little stomach was empty and he was cold. Something, he didn't know +what, made him drag himself toward the big, warm creature near by. When +his black nose touched the fur of her body, he stopped pushing ahead and +began to feel from side to side. He did not know now for what he was +feeling, yet when he found something his tiny mouth closed around it and +a stream of sweet warm milk began to flow down his throat and into his +empty stomach. He did not know that it was milk. He did not know +anything except that it was good, and then he fell asleep. His sisters +did in the same way, and soon the happy mother could look down and see +her three babies in a row beside her, all sound asleep. Their pointed +little tails lay straight out behind them, and their soft ears were bent +forward close to their heads. + +"I wonder," said she, "if I was ever as small as they are, and if my +mother loved me as I love them." She stretched out one of her forepaws +and looked at it. It was so much larger, so very much larger, than the +paws of the Kittens. Such a soft and dainty paw as it was, and so +perfectly clean. She stretched it even more, and saw five long, curved, +sharp claws slide out of their sheaths or cases. She quickly slid them +back into their sheaths, for fear that in some way they might happen to +touch and hurt her babies. + +A Swallow flew down from his nest and passed over her head, then out of +the open window. "Kittens!" said he. "Kittens!" He flew over the fields +and saw two Horses standing by the fence while the farmer was oiling his +machine. "We have new neighbors in the barn," said he, "and the Cat is +purring louder than ever." + +"Who are the neighbors?" asked the Dappled Gray. + +"Kittens!" sang the Swallow. "Oh, tittle-ittle-ittle-ee." + +The Blind Horse drew a long breath. "Then I did hear her purr," said he; +"I am so glad." He never made a fuss about his troubles, for he was +brave and unselfish, yet the Dappled Gray knew without being told how +much lighter his heart was since he heard that the Cat had really been +purring above his head. + +The days passed by, and the Kittens grew finely. They got their eyes +open, first in narrow cracks, and then wider and wider, until they were +round and staring. The White Kitten had blue ones, the others brown. In +the daytime, they had long, narrow black spots in the middle of their +eyes, and as the bright light faded, these black spots spread out +sideways until they were quite round. When it was very dark, these spots +glowed like great Fireflies in the night. Then the Mice, who often +scampered through the loft when the Cat was away, would see three pairs +of eyes glowing in the hay, and they would squeak to each other: "See! +The Kittens are watching us." + +And the Kittens, who were not yet old enough to go hunting, and who were +afraid of everything that stirred, would crowd up against each other, +arch their little backs, raise their pointed tails, stand their fur on +end, and say, "Pst! Ha-a-ah!" + +Sometimes they did this when there was not a person in sight and what +frightened them was nothing but a wisp of hay, blown down by the wind. +Afterward, when anything moved, they sprang at it, held it down with +their sharp little claws, and chewed on it with their pointed white +teeth. When they were tired of this game, they played hide-and-seek, and +when they were tired of that they chased their tails. It was so nice +always to have playthings with them. Sometimes, too, they chased each +other's tails, and caught them and bit them hard, until the Kitten who +owned the tail cried, "Mieow!" and tumbled the biter over. + +They were allowed to play all through the loft except over the mangers. +Their mother was afraid that if they went there they would fall through +the holes which had been left in the floor. During the winter, the +farmer used to throw hay down through these to the hungry Horses. When +the Cat saw her children going toward these places, she called them back +and scolded them. Sometimes she struck them lightly on the ears with her +forepaw. "I don't like to," said she, "but they must learn to keep away. +It is not safe for them to go there." + +One morning when she was away, they were playing hide-and-seek, and the +White Kitten was hunting for a good hiding-place. "I'll hide near one of +these holes," she said, "and they won't dare come there to look. Then, +after they have hunted a long, long time, I'll get another place and +let them find me." She did hide there, and after a long, long time, when +her brother and sister were in the farther end of the loft, she tried to +run over to another dark corner. Instead of that, the hay began to slip +and slide under her and she went down, down, down, through a long dark +box, and hit with a hard thud at the bottom. + +She was so scared that she couldn't have told how many toes she had on +her forefeet. Of course, she had five on each, like all Kittens, and +four on each hind-foot, but if anybody had asked her then, she would +have been quite likely to say "three." + +She was sore, too, and when she felt a warm breath on her and opened her +eyes, she saw that some great creature had thrust his nose through a +hole in the side of the dark box. "It must be a Horse," she thought, +"and my mother says that they are kind to Cats. I think I'd better tell +him who I am. I don't want him to take me for a Pig, because he may not +like Pigs." You see, she forgot that Horses had been living in the great +world and could tell to what family a person belonged the very first +time they saw him. The only people she had ever seen were Swallows and +Mice. + +"If--if you please, sir," she said, "I am the White Kitten, and I just +tumbled down from the hay-loft, but I didn't mean to." + +"I am the Blind Horse," answered a strong and gentle voice outside, "and +I hope you are not hurt." + +"Not very much," answered the Kitten. "I just feel ache-y in my back and +scared all over." + +"Come out into the manger, White Kitten," said the Blind Horse, "and +perhaps you won't be so scared. I won't touch you, although I should +like to. You know I am blind, and so, unless I can touch people I +don't know how they look." + +[Illustration: I AM THE WHITE KITTEN.] + +The White Kitten crawled out and saw him, and then she wasn't afraid at +all. She was so sorry for him that she couldn't be afraid. She +remembered the time before her eyes opened when she had to feel for +everything she wanted. It was not so hard then, because she did not know +anything different, but now she could not bear to think of not being +able to see all that was around her. "If you will put your nose down in +the other end of the manger," she said, "I will rub up against it, and +you will know more how I look." + +The Blind Horse did this, and who can tell how happy it made him when +her warm and furry back rubbed up against his nose? "Thank you," he +whinnied; "you are very good." + +"Would you know I was a Kitten if I hadn't told you?" she said. + +"Indeed I would," he answered. + +"And you wouldn't have thought me a Pig?" she asked. + +"Never!" said he; "I wouldn't even have believed you if you had told me +that you were one." + +The Blind Horse and the White Kitten became firm friends, and when she +tried to wash off the dirt that got into her fur she sat in the very +middle of the manger and told him all about it. + +"My mother always has washed me," she said, "but my tongue is getting +big enough to wash with now. It is getting rougher, too, and that is a +good thing. My mother says that the reason why all the prickles on Cats' +tongues point backward is because then we can lick all the meat off from +bones with them. I'm 'most old enough to eat meat now. I can't wash the +top of my head though. You have to wet your paw and scrub it with that. +Can you wash the top of your head?" + +Then the Blind Horse told her how the men kept him clean; and while he +was telling this the Cat came into his stall, crying and looking for her +child. + +"Oh, mother," cried the White Kitten, "I tumbled down, but I didn't mean +to, and I'm sorry I didn't mind you, and the Blind Horse can't wash the +top of his head, and he knew that I wasn't a Pig." + +The Cat was so glad to find the White Kitten that she didn't scold at +all, but jumped into the manger and washed her clean, and then caught +the loose skin of the Kitten's neck between her teeth and carried her +through the stalls, across the barn-floor, and up the stairs to their +home. That made the Kitten much ashamed, for she thought that she was +old enough to go alone. + +For two whole days after this the White Kitten was so lame from her fall +that she could only lie still on the hay, and she could see that her +mother did not treat her as before. "I won't ever go near those places +again," she said. "I never will." + +"You promised me before that you would stay away," said her mother, "and +you broke your promise." She did not punish the White Kitten, but she +felt very sad and she could not help showing it. There was a dreadful +ache in her child's little Kitten-heart that was a great deal worse than +the lameness in her back or in her neck or in her legs. + +At last there came a day when the whole family walked downstairs, and +the Cat showed her three children to the farmyard people and spoke a few +words about each. "The yellow Kitten, my big daughter," said she, +"promises to be the best hunter: she is a wonderful jumper, and her +claws are already nearly as long as mine. My son, the brown one, has a +remarkable voice. And this White Kitten, my little daughter, is the most +obedient of all. She has never disobeyed me since the day she fell into +the manger, and I can trust her perfectly." + +Then the White Kitten knew that she was quite forgiven, and she was the +happiest person on the farm. + + + + +THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL + + +It was some time after the Dorking Hen had come off the nest with her +little brood, that the mother of the Shanghai Chickens began to have so +much trouble. + +She had twelve as fine Chickens as you could find anywhere: tall, +wide-awake youngsters with long and shapely legs and thick down and +feathers. She was very proud of them, as any Hen mother might well be, +and often said to the Shanghai Cock, "Did you ever see so fine a family? +Look at those twenty-four legs, all so long and straight, and not a +feather on one of them." His eyes would shine and he would stretch his +neck with pride, but all he ever said to her was, "They will do very +well if they only behave as well as they look." He did not believe in +praising children to their faces, and he thought their mother spoiled +them. + +Perhaps he was right, for the little Shanghais soon found out that they +were good-looking, and they wanted everybody in the poultry-yard to +notice their legs. It was very foolish, of course, to be proud of such +things, but when the other fowls said, "We should think you would be +cold without feathers on your legs," they answered, "Oh, we are +Shanghais, and our family never wear feathers there!" And that was true, +just as it is true that the Dorkings have extra toes, and that the Black +Spanish fowls have white ears. + +The Shanghai mother was now roaming the fields with her brood, and there +was rich picking in the wheat-stubble. All the fowls were out of the +yard now, and would not be shut up until cold weather. Early in the +morning they would start out in parties of from six to a dozen, with a +Cock at the head of each. He chose the way in which they should go; he +watched the sky for Hawks, and if he saw one, gave a warning cry that +made the Hens hurry to him. The Cocks are the lords of the poultry-yard +and say how things shall be there; but when you see them leading the way +in the fields,--ah, then you know why all the fowls obey them. + +The farmyard people still tell of the day when a Hawk swooped down on +one of the young Dorkings and would have carried him off if the Black +Spanish Cock had not jumped out, and pecked him and struck at him with +his spurs, and fought, until the Hawk was glad to hurry away. The Cocks +are not only brave--they are polite, too, and when they find food they +will not eat it until they have called the Hens to come and share with +them. + +You can imagine what good times the Chickens had in the stubble-fields. +They were so old now that their down was all covered with feathers, and +some of them wondered if they couldn't feel their spurs growing. Still, +that was all nonsense, as a Bantam told them, because spurs do not start +until the fowl is a year old. They had long been too large to cuddle +under their mother's feathers at night, and had taken their first +lessons in roosting before they went to the stubble-fields. They had +learned to break up their own food, too, and that was a great help to +their mother. Fowls, you know, have no teeth, and no matter how big a +mouthful one takes he has to swallow it whole. The only way they can +help themselves is to break the pieces apart with their feet or peck +them apart with their bills before eating them. + +The yellow grains of wheat that lay everywhere in the field were fine +food, and should have made the little Shanghais as fat as the Grouse who +sometimes stole out from the edge of the forest. Eleven of the brood +were quite plump, but one Chicken was still thin and lank. His mother +was very much worried about him and could not think what was the matter. +She spoke of it to the Black Spanish Hen one day, but the Black Spanish +Hen had never raised a brood, and said she really didn't know any more +about the care of Chickens than if she were a Dove. Then the anxious +mother went to the Shanghai Cock about it. He listened to all she said +and looked very knowing. + +"I don't think there is anything the matter," said he. "The Chick is +growing fast, that is all. I remember how it was with me before I got my +long tail-feathers. I was very thin, yet see what a fine-looking fellow +I am now." He was really a sight worth seeing as he towered above the +other fowls, flapping his strong wings in the sunshine and crowing. His +feathers were beautiful, and the bright red of his comb and wattles +showed that he was well. "Ah," thought the Shanghai Hen, "if my Chicken +could only become such a fine-looking Cock!" And she didn't worry any +more all day. + +That night she and her brood roosted in the old apple-tree in the corner +of the orchard nearest the poultry-yard. She flew up with the older +fowls and fluttered and lurched and squawked and pushed on first one +branch and then another, while the Chickens were walking up a slanting +board that the farmer had placed against one of the lower branches. It +always takes fowls a long time to settle themselves for the night. They +change places and push each other, and sometimes one sleepy Hen leans +over too far and falls to the ground, and then has to begin all over +again. + +At first the Chickens had feared that they would tumble off as soon as +they were asleep, but they soon learned that their feet and the feet of +all other birds are made in such a way that they hang on tightly even +during sleep. The weight of the bird's body above hooks the toes around +the branch, and there they stay until the bird wishes to unhook them. + +After a long time, all the fowls were asleep with their heads under +their wings. The Sheep, Pigs, and Cows were dreaming, and even the +Horses were quiet in their stalls. There was not a light to be seen in +the big white farmhouse, when the Dorking Cock crowed in his sleep. That +awakened him and all the other fowls as well. Then the other Cocks +crowed because he did and he crowed again because they did, and they +crowed again because he had crowed again, and the Chickens asked if it +were not almost morning, and their mothers told them not to talk but to +go to sleep at once and make morning come more quickly. + +All of this took quite a while, and the Shanghai mother could not sleep +again. She could see her brood quite plainly in the moonlight, and one +of them was not plump like the rest. She roosted there and worried about +him until suddenly (she could never tell how it happened) she seemed to +know just what was the matter. + +She flew down beside him and poked him under his wing. "Wake up," she +said. "I want to ask you something. Do you eat gravel?" + +"No," he answered sleepily, "I don't like gravel." + +"Didn't I bring you up to eat it?" she asked sternly. + +"Yes, but I don't like it, and now that I am old enough to roost in a +tree I don't mean to eat any more. So!" + +Just imagine a Chicken talking to his mother in that way! His mother, +who had laid the egg from which he was hatched; who had sat upon the +nest through all the weary days and nights while he was growing inside +his shell; who had cuddled him under her soft feathers; who had taught +him all he knew, and would have fought any hawk to save him! She had +begun to love him before he even knew that he was, and had lived for him +and his brother and sisters ever since. + +The mother said nothing more to him then. She spent the rest of the +night watching the stars and the moon and the first rosy flush of the +eastern sky which told that morning was near. Then she said to her +naughty Chicken, as he began to stir and cheep, "I shall never try to +make you eat gravel if you think you are too big to mind your mother. I +shall just tell you this, that you will never be strong unless you do. I +have not told you why, because you never asked, and I supposed you would +do as you ought without knowing the reason. You have no teeth, and you +cannot chew the grain you eat before it is swallowed. You have a strong +stomach, and if you eat gravel this stomach or gizzard will rub and +press the tiny stones against the grain until it is well broken up and +ready to make into fat and strength for your body." + +"But it doesn't taste good," he replied, "and I'd rather eat other +things. I don't believe it matters, and I won't eat it anyway." + +The Shanghai Hen flew down from the tree and clucked to her Chickens. +She would not waste time talking to him. Whenever he came near her that +day, he ate everything but gravel. He had his own way and yet he was not +happy. For some reason, nothing seemed to be any fun. Even lying under +the bushes on the sunshiny side was not comfortable, and when he +wallowed in the dust with his brothers and sisters he didn't enjoy that. + +Things went on this way for a good many days, and at last he saw that +his shadow was only a small black spot on the ground, while his +brothers and sisters had big fat shadows. He heard the Black Spanish +Cock call him a Bantam, and the Shanghai Cock say that he wouldn't live +until his spurs grew. One of the Dorking Chickens was talking to her +sister, and he heard her say, "Imagine him at the head of a flock!" Then +she laughed, a mean, cackling little laugh. + +That night, when the rest were asleep in the apple-tree, he walked +softly down the slanting board and ate gravel. The next morning he felt +better than he had in a long time, so when there was nobody around he +ate some more. He didn't want anyone else to know that he had found out +his mistake. Every morning he looked at his shadow, and it grew fatter +and fatter. Still he was not happy, and he knew it was because he had +not told his patient old mother. He wanted to tell her, too. One day he +heard her telling his brother to eat more gravel, and the brother said +he didn't like the taste of it. That made him speak at last. + +"Suppose you don't like it, you can eat it. Queer world it would be if +we didn't have to do unpleasant things. I've just made up my mind that +the people who won't do hard things, when they ought to, have the +hardest times in the end. Wish I'd minded my mother and eaten gravel +when she told me to, and I'm not going to let you be as foolish as I +was." + +Just then he heard somebody say of him, "What a fine-looking fellow he +is growing to be! I like him ever so much now." + +It was the Dorking Chicken who had laughed at him. He ran after a +Grasshopper, and she ran after the same Grasshopper, and they ran +against each other and the Grasshopper got away, so of course they had +to wander off together to find something to eat, and after that they +became great friends. + +The Shanghai Hen looked lovingly after him and raised one foot in the +air. "Now," she said, "I am perfectly happy." + + + + +THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY + + +It would be hard to tell which family is the most important among the +farmyard people. There is no one animal so wise as Collie, the farmer's +dog, and all the rest love him and mind him when he is sent to bring +them up from the pasture or to drive them to the water. Still, he does +not spend his days in barn or field and only comes with his master or +for a visit now and then. + +You may remember how the Garter Snake and the old Tree Frog were the +leaders in the meadow, and how in the forest all looked up to the Ground +Hog. These people were patient and old, and partly because they were old +and had had many years in which to think about life, they were very +wise. In the farmyard the Oxen were the most patient and the oldest, and +it was to them that all the animals went when they were in trouble. + +There were also the Horses, fine strong creatures, always helping +somebody else and working all day during most of the year. They drew the +reaper through the tall grain, and where in the morning had been a field +of waving golden wheat, at sunset were bundles or sheaves of gathered +grain, and the stubble was ready for the fowls. They were busy people; +and sometimes during the winter they liked to remind their neighbors how +much they had done. + +Then again, there were the Cows, who are the sisters of the Oxen. They +are large and there are many of them, yet they are not so wise, and that +is easily understood. All that they have to do on the farm is to give +milk for the butter-and cheese-making, and for the farmer's children to +drink. No farmer could get along without his Cows, but they do not work +like their brothers. They have so easy a time that they do not learn +much. You know, when people work, they have to think, and when people +think enough useful thoughts it makes them wise. That is one of the many +reasons why it is so foolish to be lazy. + +Truly, it would be hard to say which farmyard family is the most +important, but there is no trouble at all in telling which family think +themselves the most so. If you ask any Goose, she will tell you that one +of their flock is worth five Horses or a dozen Cows. Nobody else would +tell you this, and if you should speak of it to the span of Bays, or the +Dappled Gray, or even the youngest Colt in the stable, they would answer +you only with a hearty Horse laugh. The Cows would smile and reply, +"What a Goose she was to say that!" + +There has always been a flock of Geese on the farm, and their neighbors +are so used to their queer ways that they only smile when the Geese put +on airs, and it is a good-natured smile, too. They even feel rather +sorry for them when they lose their feathers, although the Nigh Ox once +said that if it were not for being plucked once in a while, the Geese +would really be too airy to live with. + +Perhaps the Nigh Ox was right in what he said, for certainly after they +have worn their feathers all winter, they hold their heads higher than +ever, and tell what they think and what they would do, and it is well +they should be reminded that they work for a living like all their +neighbors. The farmer's wife never plucks the Geese until warm weather +comes. Then she takes all the soft, short feathers that they have worn +through the winter, and this leaves them looking very ragged indeed. +There was a time, years ago, when Geese had to give up their long +tail-and wing-feathers to be whittled into pens, but these Geese didn't +know about that, and there was nobody in the farmyard old enough to +remember it and tell them, so they thought they had a pretty hard time +in even giving up their breast feathers. + +"Sssss!" the Gander used to say, "if the farmer's boys must have +feather pillows on which to lay their heads, why do they not grow their +own feathers?" + +"Humph!" said the Nigh Ox once; "If you must have oats to eat, why don't +you grow the oats?" But the Gander was already waddling away and +pretended not to hear him. + +It is in the winter that the Geese put on the most airs. Then, when the +Horses are being harnessed, they say to each other, "Dear me! Wouldn't +it be dreadful to work in that way for a living?" And sometimes, when +the team is hitched to a post by the farmhouse, they waddle past in a +single line with the Gander at the head, and say to the Horses: "Hear +you have to take a load of wood to town. It's too bad. Hope you won't +get very tired. We are going to the river for a nice cold swim. +Good-bye." Then they march off with their heads held high, and as soon +as their backs are turned, the Horses look at each other and laugh +softly. They know that there is nothing in the world better than good, +honest, hard work, no matter of what kind it is. + +Every winter the Geese forget about having to be plucked, and every +spring they are surprised to lose their feathers. They are plucked four +times before fall comes, and these four times come so near together that +even they can remember from one to another. You would think that then +they would not be so airy, but instead of saying, "Of course we work for +our living--why shouldn't we?" they say, "Why, yes, we do let the +farmer's wife have some of our feathers when she wants them. We suppose +you might call it work to grow feathers for her, still it does not take +much of our time, and it is quite different from drawing loads and +getting tired as the Horses and Oxen do. Growing feathers is genteel." + +They do not remember anything long, and so, when they have made a +mistake once, they are likely to make the same mistake over and over +again. Then, too, they cannot tell big things from little things, and +they are not happy unless they can have their own way all the time. And +you know that nobody can be sure of that. It all comes of their not +being willing to think hard, and sometimes it makes them a great deal of +trouble, as it did on the day when the Gray Goose would not go through +the farmyard gate. + +This was soon after the Gander and his wife had hatched their brood of +seven Goslings, and they were taking them at once to the brook. It was +a happy day for all the flock. The Gander and the Mother Goose were glad +because their children were safely out of the shell, and because they +would no longer have to sit with cramped legs on the nest. Ganders are +good fathers, for they cover the eggs half of the time, while the Mother +Goose is resting. The other Geese were not only proud of the Goslings, +but they were glad to have the Gander and the Mother Goose free to go +around with them again. They had missed them very much. + +The gate from the farmyard into the meadow stood wide open, and all the +Geese except the Gray one followed the Gander through. The Gray Goose +tried to go through a small hole in the fence very near the gate. She +squeezed her head into it and stretched her neck on the meadow side of +the fence, but she could not get any farther, although she pushed until +she was dizzy. + +[Illustration: THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH.] + +"Wait for me," she cried. "Wait for me-ee!" + +"Hurry, then," said the Gander. + +"I am hurrying," she cried, and she pushed with all her strength, but +since the hole in the fence was so small, she did not get any farther +than before. + +"Go through the gateway," said the Nigh Ox, who was grazing near by. + +"Sssss!" said the Gray Goose stiffly. "I would rather go through here. I +have chosen to go this way." + +"Oh!" said the Nigh Ox, "excuse me! Do go through there by all means!" + +"We are going on," called the Gander; "we would wait, but the Goslings +are in a hurry to take their first bath. Come as soon as you can." + +The Gray Goose tried harder than ever to go the way that she had chosen, +but it only made her so out of breath that she had to lie down and rest. +Once she thought she heard somebody laugh, yet when she looked at the +Nigh Ox, who was the only person around, he was lying with closed eyes +and solemnly chewing his cud, so she decided that she must have been +mistaken. + +Down by the brook the rest of the flock were cackling merrily, and she +could see the seven Goslings swimming with the Geese and the Gander. +"Oh," she cried, "how I wish I were with them! I don't see what is the +matter with this hole in the fence. The farmer ought to make it bigger." + +She pushed and scolded and fussed until her neck was sore and she was +too tired to swim if she had a chance, so she sat down to rest. She did +remember what the Nigh Ox had said; still, if she couldn't go as she had +planned, she wouldn't go at all. She walked into the barn to find a cool +and shady place, lowering her head as she stepped over the threshold of +the high front door. + +"What did you do that for?" twittered a Swallow. + +"Because I don't want to hit my head on the top of the doorway;" she +replied. "I always do so. All of our flock do so." + +"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee," laughed the Swallow, as she darted away and +alighted on the fence by the Nigh Ox. "Why isn't the Gray Goose in +swimming with the rest?" asked she. + +"Because she can't push her fat body through that hole in the fence," +said the Nigh Ox, switching his tail toward it as he spoke. + +"Why doesn't she go through the gateway, then?" asked the Swallow. + +"Because she says she would rather go the other way, and that if she +can't go that way, she won't go at all." + +"And she is missing all that fun?" said the Swallow. + +"All of it," answered the Nigh Ox, "but then, you know, she is such a +Goose!" + + + + +WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY + + +It was during the hottest summer weather that the wind-storm came. The +farmyard people always spoke of it as "the" wind-storm, because not even +the Blind Horse, who had lived on the farm longer than any of his +neighbors, could remember anything like it. "I recall one time," he +said, "when a sweet-apple tree was blown down in the fall. The Hogs +found it and ate all the fruit before the farmer knew that it was down. +You should have heard them grunt over it. They were afraid the farmer +would drive them away before they had eaten it all. Eh, well! They ate +all they wanted, but one of the Pigs told me afterward that it made them +sick, and that he never wanted to see another sweet apple as long as he +lived. That was a hard storm, but not like this, not like this." + +It had come in the night when the farmyard people were asleep, and there +was much scampering to shelter. The fowls, who were roosting in the old +apple-tree, did not have time to oil their feathers and make them +water-proof. They just flew off their perches as fast as they could and +ran for the open door of the Hen-house. When they were once inside, they +ruffled up their feathers and shook themselves to get rid of the +rain-drops. Fowls do not like wet weather, and it vexes them very much +to be in the rain. Their neighbors know this so well that it has become +their custom to say of an angry person that he is "as mad as a wet Hen." + +The Cows were in their part of the barn with their necks between the +stanchions, so there was nothing for them to do but to keep still and +think of those who were out of doors. The Horses were in their +comfortable stalls. They had been working hard all day and the farmer +had gotten a good supper of oats ready for them in their mangers, so +that they could eat quickly and go to sleep, instead of staying awake +and walking around to get their own suppers in the pasture. + +Out in the meadow the Sheep huddled close together under a low-branching +tree, and stood still until the storm passed. They had been so warm that +the cool rain made them comfortable, but the wind pushed them and swayed +the branches of the trees. The loud thunder made the Lambs jump. They +liked the lightning and made a game out of it, each one telling what he +had seen by the last flash. The clouds, too, were beautiful, and flew +across the sky like great dark birds with downy breasts, dropping now +and then shining worms from their beaks. + +At last the air became cool and clear, and the clouds flew far away +toward the east. Next, the stars peeped out, first one, then two, then +six, then twenty, and then so many that you could not have counted +them,--more than the leaves on a maple-tree, more than the grass-blades +of the meadow. The Sheep ran around a little to shake off the rain-drops +and warm themselves, then they huddled down again to sleep. + +When the sun arose in the eastern sky, his warm beams fell upon the +Sheep and awakened them. "How cool and beautiful a day," they said. +"What a morning for a run!" + +"I can beat you to the tall grass!" called one little Lamb to the rest, +and they all scampered around the field, throwing up their heels for +joy. They had been away from their mothers for awhile, and had learned +to eat grass instead of milk. They were quite proud of the way in which +they broke it off, with quick upward jerks of their heads, and their +teeth were growing finely. They did not expect any upper front teeth, +for in place of them the Sheep have only a hard pad of flesh. + +Soon they came running back to the flock. "There is a Dog over there," +they cried, "a strange Dog. He doesn't look like Collie. He is coming +this way, and we are afraid." + +Their uncle, the Bell-Wether, looked over to where the strange Dog was, +then turned quickly and began to run. The bell around his neck clinked +at every step. When the other Sheep heard the bell they raised their +heads and ran after him, and the Lambs ran after them. The strange Dog +did not follow or even bark at them, yet on they went, shaking the +shining rain-drops from the grass as they trod upon it. Not one of them +was thinking for himself what he really ought to do. The Bell-Wether +thought, "I feel like running away from the Dog, and so I will run." + +The other Sheep said to themselves, "The Bell-Wether is running and so +we will run." + +And the Lambs said, "If they are all running we will run." + +Along the fence they went, the bell clinking, their hoofs pattering, and +not one of them thinking for himself, until they reached a place where +the fence was blown over. It was not blown 'way down, but leaned so that +it could be jumped. If a single one of the flock, even the youngest +Lamb, had said, "Don't jump!" they would have stayed in the pasture; but +nobody said it. The Bell-Wether felt like jumping over, so he jumped. +Then the Sheep did as the Bell-Wether had done, and the Lambs did as the +Sheep had done. + +Now they were in the road and the Bell-Wether turned away from the +farmhouse and ran on, with the Sheep and the Lambs following. Even now, +if anybody had said, "Stop!" they would have stopped, for they knew that +they were doing wrong; but nobody said it. + +After a while a heavy wagon came rumbling down the road behind them, and +the Bell-Wether jumped over a ditch and ran into a hilly field with +woodland beyond. Because he went the Sheep did, and because the Sheep +went the Lambs did, and nobody said "Stop!" You see, by this time they +were very badly frightened, and no wonder. When they saw the strange Dog +they were a little scared, for they thought he might chase them. If they +had made themselves stay there and act brave they would soon have felt +brave. Even if the Dog had been a cruel one, they could have kept him +from hurting them, for Sheep have been given very strong, hard foreheads +with which to strike, and the Bell-Wether had also long, curled horns +with three ridges on the side of each. But it is with Sheep as it is +with other people,--if they let themselves be frightened they grow more +and more fearful, even when there is no real danger and now all of their +trouble came from their not stopping to think what they ought to do. + +They hurried up to the highest ground in the field, and when they were +there and could go no farther, they stopped and looked at each other. +One Lamb said to his mother, "Why did we come here? It isn't nearly so +nice as our own meadow." + +"Why, I came because the Bell-Wether did," she answered. Then she turned +to the Bell-Wether and said, "Why did you bring us here?" + +"I didn't bring you here," he replied. "I felt like coming, and I came. +I didn't make you follow." + +"N-no," answered the Sheep; "but you might have known that if you came +the Sheep would come." + +"Well," said the Bell-Wether, "you might have known that if you Sheep +came the Lambs would, so you'd better not say anything." + +"Baa!" cried the Lambs. "We are hot and thirsty and there isn't any +water here to drink. We want to go back." + +Everybody was out of patience with somebody else, and nobody was +comfortable. They did not dare try to go home again, for fear they would +have more trouble, so they huddled together on the top of the hill and +were very miserable and unhappy. They hadn't any good reason for coming, +and they could not even have told why they ran to the hilltop instead of +staying in the pleasant hollow below. + +There was a reason for their running up, however, although +they didn't know it. It was because their +great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather and-grandmother were +wild Sheep in the mountains, and when frightened ran up among the rocks +where there was nobody to hurt them. They got into the habit of running +up-hill when scared, and their children did the same, and their +children's children did the same, and now even the farmyard Sheep do so, +although they long ago forgot the reason why. + +"Bow-wow-wow!" rang out on the still morning air. + +"There's Collie!" cried the Lambs joyfully. "He's coming to take us +home. Let's bleat to help him find us more quickly." All the Lambs said, +"Baa! Baaa!" in their high, soft voices, and their mothers said "Baa! +Baaa!" more loudly; and the Bell-Wether added his "Baa! Baaa!" which was +so deep and strong that it sounded like a little, very little, clap of +thunder. + +Collie came frisking along with his tail waving and his eyes gleaming. +He started the flock home, and scolded them and made fun of them all the +way, but they were now so happy that they didn't care what he said. When +they were safely in the home meadow again and the farmer had mended the +fence, Collie left them. As he turned to go, he called back one last +piece of advice. + +"I'm a Shepherd Dog," he said, "and it's my work to take care of Sheep +when they can't take care of themselves, but I'd just like to be a +Bell-Wether for a little while. You wouldn't catch me doing every +foolish thing I felt like doing and getting all the flock into trouble +by following me! Nobody can do anything without somebody else doing it +too, and I wouldn't lead people into trouble and then say I didn't +think. Bow-wow-wow-wow!" + +[Illustration: COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER.] + +The Bell-Wether grumbled to himself, "Well, the rest needn't tag along +unless they want to. Pity if I can't jump a fence without everybody +following." But down in his heart he felt mean, for he knew that one who +leads should do right things. + + + + +THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP + + +The Mice were having a great frolic in the corn-crib. The farmer's man +had carelessly left a board leaning up against it in such a way that +they could walk right up and through one of the big cracks in the side. +It was the first time that some of them had ever been here. When the +farmer built the crib, he had put a tin pan, open side down, on top of +each of the wooden posts, and had then nailed the floor beams of the +crib through these pans. That had kept the hungry Mice from getting into +the corn. + +This was a great day for them, and their gnawing-teeth would certainly +be worn down enough without giving them any extra wear. That, you know, +is one thing about which all Rats and Mice have to be very careful, for +their front teeth are growing all the time, and they have to gnaw hard +things every day to keep them from becoming too long. + +There was only one thing that ever really troubled these Mice, and that +was the Cat. They did not feel afraid of Hawks and Owls because they +lived indoors. Weasels did not often come up to the barn, and men made +so much noise when they were around that any wide-awake Mouse could +easily keep out of their way. With the Cat it was different. She was +always prowling around in the night-time, just when they had their +finest parties; and many a young Mouse had been scared away from a +midnight supper by seeing her eyes glowing like balls of fire in the +darkness. By daylight it was not so bad, for they could see her coming, +and besides, she slept much of the time then. + +They were talking about her when in the corn-crib. "Have any of you seen +the Cat to-day?" asked the Oldest Mouse. + +Nobody answered. Then one young fellow, who was always worrying, said: +"Supposing she should come out of the barn now! Supposing she should +come right toward this corn-crib! Supposing she should stand right under +the floor! Supposing she should catch us as we jumped down! +Supposing----" + +But here the other young Mice all squeaked to him to stop, and one of +them declared that it made her fur stand on end to think of it. The +Oldest Mouse spoke quite sharply. "Supposing," said he to the first +young Mouse, "you should eat more and talk less. There are enough +pleasant things to speak about without scaring all your friends in this +way." + +The young Mouse who said that her fur stood on end couldn't eat anything +more, she was so frightened. "What could we do," she said, "if the Cat +should come?" + +"Stay right where we are," answered her mother. "She couldn't reach us +with the door closed. Now go on with your eating and don't be foolish." + +A Rat ran up the board. "Good-morning," said he. "Have you heard the +news?" + +"No, no!" cried the Mice, hurrying to that side of the corn-crib, and +peeping through the crack. + +"The Yellow Kitten has been hunting with her mother, and they say that +her brother is going to-night." + +"Well," said a mother Mouse, "I knew we would have to expect it, but I +did hope they would wait a while. Now, children," she added, "do be +careful! I know that when you are looking for food you have to go into +dangerous places, but don't stop there to talk or to clean your fur. +Find safe corners for that, or I shall worry about you all the time." + +"We will," squeaked all the little Mice together. "We will be very, very +careful." + +"Thank you for the news," said the Oldest Mouse to the Rat. "We will try +to send you word of new dangers when we hear of them." + +The Rat, who was a fine young fellow, ran down the board and away. They +could not ask him in to lunch, because he was too large and stout to +squeeze through the cracks, but he understood how it was, and knew that +he could find food elsewhere. Now he ran to the Pig-pen to snatch a +share of the breakfast which the farmer had just left there. He often +did this as soon as the farmer went away, and the Pigs never troubled +him. Perhaps that was because they knew that if they drove him away when +he came alone, he would bring all his sisters and his cousins and his +aunts, and his brothers and his uncles too, the next time, and would +eat every bit of food they had. + +After he had taken a hearty breakfast, he ran under the edge of the barn +to clean himself. He was always very particular about this. His mother +had taught him when very small that he must keep his fur well brushed +and his face washed, and he did it just as a Cat would, by wetting his +paws and scrubbing his face and the top of his head. He brushed his fur +coat with his paws also. + +While he was here, one of his cousins came from the barn above. She ran +down the inside of the wall, head foremost, and her hind feet were +turned around until they pointed backward. That let her hold on with her +long, sharp claws, quite as a Squirrel does, and kept her from tumbling. +She was much out of breath when she reached the ground, but it was not +from running. + +"What do you think that farmer has done now?" she cried. "It was bad +enough for him to nail tin over the holes we gnawed into his grain-bins, +but this is worse still. It needn't make us so much trouble, but it +hurts my feelings." + +"What is it?" asked her cousin. + +"A trap!" said she. "A horrible, shining trap. The Rat from the other +farm told me about it. It lies open and flat on the floor of a +grain-bin,--the very one you and I gnawed into last night,--and there is +a lovely piece of cheese in the middle of it. The Rat who told me about +it says that as soon as one touches the cheese, the trap springs shut on +him." + +"Bah!" exclaimed the young Rat who had just eaten breakfast in the +Pig-pen. "Let it stay there! We don't have to touch it, although I do +mean to look at it some time. I believe in knowing about things." + +"I wish you wouldn't look at it," said his cousin, who was very fond of +him. + +"The Rat from the other farm says it is very dangerous to even look at +traps, especially if your stomach is empty." + +"Then the Rat from the other farm might better keep away," said this +young fellow, as he put one paw up to see that his whiskers were all +right. "I don't think very much of him anyway. He thinks he knows +everything because he has travelled. I wish you would have nothing to do +with him. I dare say you were in the grain-bin with him when you saw the +trap." + +"Yes," said she, "I was." + +"Well," said he, "you both got away safely, and I shall too. I may not +be very clever, but I think I do know enough to keep out of a trap." +Then he turned into his hole and went to sleep. He had been running +around all night, and was very tired. He was cross, too. This was the +second time that his cousin had told him what the Rat from the other +farm had said, and he thought she liked him altogether too well. + +When he awakened, it was night again and he was aroused by the stamping +of the Dappled Gray on the floor above his head. For a minute he could +hardly think where he was. Then it all came to him. He was in his own +cozy little hole under the barn, and it was night. He remembered +something about the Yellow Kitten. What was it? Oh yes, she had begun +hunting. Well, he was not afraid of her yet. But there was something +else--the trap! He wondered if his cousin were in that bin again. As +like as not her friend, the Rat from the other farm, was showing her the +trap now. He would go up there himself, and at once, too. + +He ran up the wall, through an opening, and across the barn floor to the +grain-bin. It was a moonlight night and the barn was not very dark. The +cover of the bin was raised. Perhaps the farmer's man had forgotten to +close it. Perhaps there was so little grain left in it that the man +didn't care to. At any rate, he could now see the trap quite plainly. +There was nobody else in the bin, and he went close to it. + +"I would not touch it for anything," said he, as he entered the bin, +"but it will not hurt me to look at it." + +When he went nearer, he was very careful to see that his tail did not +even brush against the chain which held the trap down. "So that is the +terrible, dangerous trap?" said he. "It doesn't look particularly +dreadful. That is fine-smelling cheese though." He sniffed two or three +times. "I have tasted cheese only once in my whole life," said he, "and +I am almost starved now. I wouldn't mind a nibble at that." He looked at +it and thought about it until it seemed to him he could not go away and +leave that cheese there. + +Then he thought, "If I am very careful to step over these shining steel +things and rest my feet only on the floor, it cannot spring the trap. +Then I will snatch the cheese and jump.... I am pretty sure I can do +it.... Why, yes, I know I can." So the Rat who had come just to look at +the trap, began to lift first one foot and then another over the shining +curved bars, and got all ready to catch up the cheese and run. + +"Now!" he cried. "One, two, three!" He did snatch it and jump, but the +trap jumped, too, in its own trappy way, and the Rat who got the cheese +left the three tip rings of his tail to pay for it. "Ouch!" he cried. +"My tail! My tail! My beautiful, long, bony tail, all covered with +scales and short hair!" He did not care at all for the cheese now. He +did not want to see it, for he would rather have had the point on his +tail again than to eat a whole binful of cheese. + +"How it will look!" said he. "So stumpy and blunt. And it has been so +very useful always. I could wind it around a stick to hold myself up +when my paws were full, and many a time I have rolled eggs across the +floor by curling it around them." Then he heard Rat voices and scampered +out and down to his own hole. + +His cousin and the Rat from the other farm came into the bin. "Don't +look at the trap," he was saying, "but just eat your grain from the +farther corner." + +"I won't," she answered, and she half closed her eyes to keep from +seeing it. He was beside her and they stumbled over the cheese, which +now lay on the floor away from the trap. "How does this happen?" said +he. "We will eat it first and then find out." By this advice he showed +that he was a Rat of excellent sense. + +When they had eaten it, they began to look toward the trap. As there was +no longer any cheese in it to tempt them, they felt perfectly safe in +doing so. They found that it had been sprung, and there lay the last +three rings of some Rat's tail. + +"How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "I hope that was not lost by any of our +friends." + +"Hum-hum!" said the Rat from the other farm. "Now, whom have I seen +wearing that? I have certainly seen that tail before--it was your +cousin!" + +"Poor fellow!" said she. "I must go to see him." + +"Oh, don't go now," cried the Rat from the other farm. "I think he might +want to be alone for a while. Besides," he added coaxingly, "you haven't +tasted of the grain yet, and it is very good." + +"W-well," answered she, "perhaps my cousin would just as soon not have +me come now." So she waited, and the Rat from the other farm told her +wonderful stories of his travels, and they had a very fine supper. + +When her cousin began to run around again, he was a much sadder and +wiser Rat. Sometimes the younger Rats would ask him how he lost the tip +of his tail. "By not turning it toward a tempting danger," he would +answer, very solemnly. Then, after he had told them the story, he always +added, "The time to turn your tail toward a tempting danger is the +minute you see it, for if you wait and look and long for something you +ought not to take, there is sure to be trouble, and many a Rat has lost +more than the tip of his tail in just that way." + + + + +THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER + + +There was only one Gobbler on the farm, and he was so used to having his +own way that he never tried to make the best of it when he couldn't, and +sometimes he became exceedingly cross. He was bigger than the Cocks, the +Hens, the Geese, and the Ducks, so when they were in his way and he +gobbled a gruff "Move along," they murmured "Oh, certainly," and +scampered away as fast as their legs would carry them. The Peacock was +larger than the Turkey Gobbler, it is true, but as long as he could sit +on a fence in the sunshine and have somebody admiring his train, he did +not care anything about the Gobbler, and they did not get in each +other's way. + +There were seven Hen Turkeys, timid, sweet-tempered people, who were +fond of walking. They had never been known to answer back when the +Gobbler scolded them, although at times he was very unreasonable. This +was polite of them, but it made the Gobbler more careless than ever of +the way in which he spoke. The Black Spanish Hen said it made her +wattles tingle to hear him find fault with them. She wouldn't have stood +it--no, indeed! + +When the Black Spanish Cock heard her say so, he shook his feathers and +smiled a queer little smile, and said, "I certainly know that she would +not." The other fowls looked at each other, and the Shanghai Cock winked +his round little eyes at the Dorking Hen, and she had to oil a feather +on the under side of her wing just then, so, of course, nobody saw her +laugh--if she did laugh. + +The Black Spanish fowls were kind-hearted and honest, and had fine +manners, but they would not stand it to be spoken to hastily by any one +who was not very much bigger than they, and it was said that the Cock +had once--only once--but then, perhaps it would be just as well not to +tell what the other fowls had heard about their family quarrel, for, +after all, it did not come very straight, the Pigs having told the +Geese, and the Geese telling the Ducks, and the Ducks just mentioning it +to the Peacock, and the Peacock having spoken of it to the Dorking Hen. + +It was now late in the fall, and all the Turkeys went walking together +again. One would think that, after being separated from the rest all +summer and part of the spring, the Gobbler would have been very polite +when he joined them, but no; he was more quick-tempered than ever. He +was not fond of young Turkeys, and their constant chattering annoyed +him. "Can't you find some way to keep those children quiet?" he would +say, and made such a fuss that the Hen Turkeys called them aside and +tried to amuse them for a while. + +Hen Turkeys are most loving mothers, and in the early spring first one +and then another had stolen away to lay and hatch her eggs. If a Hen +Turkey wanted a chance to lay an egg at this season, she watched the +Gobbler and left the flock when his back was turned. As she came near +her nest, she would stop and look around to make sure he did not see +where it was. She knew that the Gobbler did not like to have her raise +young Turkeys, and that if he could find the nest, he would break every +egg in it. After she had laid her egg, she would wander back in a +careless way, quite as though she had only been to the watering-trough +for a drink. + +Once the Hen Turkeys had talked about this when the Gobbler could not +hear. "It doesn't seem right not to tell him," the youngest had said. + +"Well, my dear," said another, "it is the only way we can do, if we want +to save our eggs and raise our children. Gobblers always act in that +way." + +"Are you sure?" said the young Hen Turkey. + +"Sure!" was the answer. "You wouldn't be here to-day if your mother +hadn't done as we do." + +So the youngest Hen Turkey had changed her mind and hidden her eggs like +the rest, for, in spite of aching legs and all that is hard in hatching +eggs, Hen Turkeys always want to raise broods in the springtime. When +one of them had laid as many eggs as she wanted to hatch, she began +sitting on them, and would not walk with the flock at all. One by one +the Hen Turkeys had done this until the Gobbler was left quite alone. He +did not like it at all, and wanted more than ever to find and break the +eggs. When the Turkey Chicks were hatched, their mothers kept them out +of the Gobbler's way, because, you know, he did not like small children +and it was better that they should not meet. + +The Hen Turkeys were very sorry for him, and often wished that he might +watch with them the growth of their piping darlings, to see the tiny +feathers push their way through the down and broaden and lengthen until +there was no down to be seen--only feathers. It was too bad; yet that +was the way in all Turkey families, and the Gobblers couldn't help +disliking the children any more than the Hen Turkeys could help wanting +to sit in the springtime. + +By another year the Gobbler would love the young Turkeys dearly. Even +now he did not try to strike them, as he might have done a while before. +They were afraid of him, yet down in their hearts the brothers all +thought that when they were grown up they wanted to be just like him +and strut around with their wings trailing, their tails spread, their +necks drawn back, and their feathers ruffled. Then, they thought, when +other people came near them, they would puff and gobble and cry, "Get +out of my way!" They tried it once in a while to see how it would seem, +but they were still slender and their voices were not yet deep enough. +The sisters laughed at them when they did this, and that made them feel +very uncomfortable. The long, limp red wattles that grew out between +their eyes became redder and redder as they swung to and fro under their +short, thick bills. + +"Just wait," said one young fellow to another. "Just you wait until I am +really grown up and strut before your sister next spring. I don't think +she will laugh at me then." And he comforted himself by eating fully +twice as much grain as he should have done. + +The farmer's little girl came into the farmyard, and all the fowls +stopped eating to look at her. She was so young that she had never +before been out there alone. Her father had brought her in his arms, and +she had laughed with delight and clapped her little hands when the +farmyard people passed by her. Now she had slipped out of the house and +stood in the sunshine smiling at every one. She came without a cap, and +the wind blew her soft yellow curls around her rosy face. It fluttered +her red dress, too, and the Gobbler saw it and became exceedingly angry. + +"Red-red-red!" he cried. "Why in the world did she wear red? I hate it!" +He stalked toward her in his most disagreeable way, and you could tell +by the stiff brushing of his wing-tips on the ground that he was very +angry. "Get away from here!" he cried. "This is my home and little girls +can't wear red dresses when they visit me. Pffff! Get away!" + +The little girl turned to run as the big Gobbler came puffing toward +her. In her fright she stumbled and fell, and he hurried forward to +strike her. The Black Spanish Cock began to ruffle his neck feathers and +stretch his head forward. He did not mean to have their visitor treated +so. He ran between the Gobbler's feet and they tumbled over together. +The little girl picked herself up and hurried into the house. + +If the Gobbler was angry before, he was much more so after his fall. +"What do you mean, sir," he said, "by tripping me?" + +"And what do you mean," said the Black Spanish Cock, "by knocking me +over?" + +"Pffff! You were under my feet." + +"Erruuuu! You were over my head." + +Now nobody had dared to disagree with the Gobbler in so long that he did +not know what to make of it, and when the Shanghai Cock strolled over +to help his friend, the Gobbler was fairly sputtering with rage. "Ah, +Gobbler," said the Shanghai, "wonder what has become of the little girl? +It was nice of her to come out here, and I wish she had stayed longer." + +[Illustration: THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD HER.] + +"I told her to get away," was the answer. "She had on a red dress. I +chased her. I always have chased anybody who wore red, and I always +shall. It's my way." + +"Is it your way, too, to be cross whenever you feel like it?" + +"Of course. I wouldn't be cross when I didn't feel like it," answered +the Gobbler. + +"Some of us are not cross when we do feel like it," said the Dorking +Cock. "I am always happier for keeping my temper when I can." + +"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. "That is not my way. I say right out what I +think, and then I am all right again and forget all about it." + +"Humph!" said the Bantam Hen. "I wonder if the other people forget as +soon? It would do him more good to remember it and feel sorry. He needs +a lesson." Then she stalked up to him, looking as brave as you please, +although she was really quite frightened. "I never noticed it before," +she cackled, "but the tuft of hairy feathers on your breast is +dreadfully ragged. And what very ugly looking feet you have! If I were +going to have any webs between my toes I should want good big ones like +those of the Ducks and Geese, not snippy little halfway webs like yours. +I hope you don't mind my speaking of it. I always say what I think. It's +just my way, and I never remember it afterward." She gave a graceful +flutter and a queer little squawk, and was off before the Gobbler got +over his surprise. + +Fowls do enjoy a joke, and now the Dorking Cock took his turn. "I've +always wanted to know how you spread your tail in that fashion. It's a +good time to see." He walked up beside the Gobbler and pecked and pulled +until three feathers lay on the ground. "Ah," said the Dorking Cock, "I +see I loosened some of your tail feathers. I hope you don't mind. It is +just my way, when I want to know about anything, to find out as soon as +I can." + +And so one fowl after another teased and troubled the Gobbler, and +explained afterward that "it was just their way." Then they laughed at +him and ran off. + +It would be nice if one could say that the Gobbler never again lost his +temper, but he did, a great many times, for he should have begun to +master it when he was a Chick. But one can tell truly that he never +again excused his crossness by saying that "it was only his way." The +youngest Duckling in the poultry-yard had always known that this was no +excuse at all, and that if people have disagreeable habits which make +others unhappy, it is something of which they should be much ashamed. + + + + +THE BRAGGING PEACOCK + + +The farmyard people will never forget the coming of the Peacock; or +rather they will never forget the first day that he spent with them. He +came in the evening after all the fowls had gone to roost, and their +four-legged friends were dozing comfortably in meadow and pasture +corners, so nobody saw him until the next morning. + +You can imagine how surprised they were when a beautiful great fowl of +greenish-blue strutted across the yard, holding his head well in the air +and dragging his splendid train behind him. The fowls were just starting +out for their daily walks, and they stopped and held one foot in the +air, and stared and stared and stared. They did not mean to be rude, +but they were so very much surprised that they did not think what they +were doing. Most of them thought they were asleep and dreaming, and the +dream was such a beautiful one that they did not want to move and break +it off. They had never seen a Peacock and did not even know that there +was such a fowl. + +A Lamb by the pasture fence called to his mother. "Ba-baa!" cried he. +"One of the cloud-birds is walking in the farmyard." He was thinking of +the night of the storm, when all the Sheep and Lambs huddled together in +the meadow and watched the clouds, and thought that they were birds and +dropped shining worms from their beaks. + +Then the Peacock, who understood the Sheep language perfectly, said, +"Paon! I am no cloud-bird. I am a Peacock." He said this in a very +haughty way, as though to be a Peacock were the grandest thing in the +world, far better than having one's home in the sky and bringing showers +to refresh the thirsty earth-people. + +The Turkey Gobbler never could stand it to have others speak in that way +when he was around, so he thought he would show the newcomer how +important he was. He drew up his neck and puffed out his chest; he +pulled his skin muscles by thinking about them, and that made his +feathers stand on end; next he dropped his wings until their tips +touched the ground; then he slowly spread his tail. "Pffff!" said he. "I +am no Peacock. I am a Turkey Gobbler." + +The Hen Turkeys looked at each other with much pride. They were a little +afraid of him themselves, but they liked to have him show the newcomer +that Turkeys are important people. Their children looked at each other +and murmured, "Isn't the Gobbler fine though? Guess the Peacock will +wish now that he hadn't put on airs." + +But the Peacock did not seem to feel at all sorry. He stood and looked +at them all without saying a word, and they all wondered what he was +thinking. Then a Duckling who stood near him exclaimed, "Look at his +train! Oh, look at his train!" Everybody looked and saw all those +beautiful long feathers rising into the air. Up and up they went, and +spreading as they rose, until there was a wonderful great circle of them +back of his body and reaching far above his head. The Gobbler's spread +tail looked as small beside this as a Dove's egg would beside that of a +Goose. + +"Paon!" said the Peacock. "I am no Turkey Gobbler. I am a Peacock." + +"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. Then he turned to the Hen Turkeys. "My +dears," he said, "I think it is time that we walked along. The children +should not be allowed to see and speak with any stray fowl that comes +along. We cannot be too particular about that." Then he stalked off, +with the meek Hen Turkeys following and the children lagging behind. +They did so want to stay and see the Peacock, and they thought the +Ducklings and Goslings were much luckier than they. + +The Geese were delighted with the newcomer, and hoped he would be quite +friendly with them. They wished he were a swimmer, but of course they +could tell with one look that he was not. He did not have the trim, +boat-shaped body that swimmers have, and then, his feet were not webbed. +The Gander noticed that they were remarkably homely feet. He thought he +would remember this and speak of it to the Geese some time when they +were praising the Peacock's train. + +The Drake was the first to speak politely to the Peacock. "We are glad +to meet you, sir," he said. "Will you be with us long?" + +"Thank you," answered the Peacock. "I have come to stay." + +"We hope you will like it here. I'm sorry to see you do not swim. We +should be very glad of your company if you did. You will excuse us if we +go on to the brook. We are late already." He and all of his family +waddled away to the water. "A fine-looking fellow," said he heartily. +"Even my cousins, the Mallard Ducks, have not such a beautiful sheen on +their neck feathers." The Drake was a kind, warm-hearted fellow, and it +never troubled him to know that other people were handsomer than he. + +The Geese were eager to reach the water, too, but they could not leave +without asking one question. First they told the Gander to ask it, but +he replied that if they wanted to know, they should ask it for +themselves. Then they hung back and said to each other, "You ask him. I +can't." At last the Gray Goose stepped forward, saying, "Excuse us, +sir. You said that you were to stay with us, and we wish to know if you +work for your living." + +"I work!" cried he. "Paon! Never. The farmer invited me here to be +beautiful, that is all." + +"We are so glad," cackled the Geese, and the Gander joined with them. +"So many of the people here work. They are very good, but not at all +genteel, you understand." + +"And don't you do anything?" asked the Peacock. "I thought Geese grew +feathers for beds and pillows. It seems to me you look rather ragged. +Haven't you been plucked?" + +This was very embarrassing to the Geese. "Why, yes," they said, "we do +let the farmer's wife have some feathers once in a while, when the +weather is warm, but that is very different from really working, you +know." + +"Perhaps," said the Peacock. "If they want any of my feathers, they can +wait until I moult. Then you will see how much they think of me, for +whenever they find one of my train feathers (not tail, if you please; +every bird has a tail, but I have a train) they carry it carefully into +the house to be made into a duster for the parlor. I never give away any +but my cast-off plumage. I am so very, very beautiful that I do not have +to work." + +This impressed the Geese very much. "We are glad to know you. Quite +honored, we assure you!" + +The Peacock bowed his crested head, and they bowed their uncrested and +very silly ones, and then they went to the river. The Peacock thought +them most agreeable, because they admired him, and they thought him the +best sort of acquaintance, because he didn't work. It was all very +foolish, but there are always foolish people in the world, you know, and +it is much better to be amused by it and a little sorry for them, than +for us to lose our tempers and become cross about it. That was the way +the Shanghais, Black Spanish, Dorking, and Bantam fowls felt. They were +polite enough to the newcomer, but they did not run after him. The +Chickens used to laugh when the Peacock uttered his cry of "Paon! Paon!" +His voice was harsh and disagreeable, and it did seem so funny to hear +such dreadful sounds coming from such a lovely throat. + +The Black Spanish Cock reproved the Chickens sharply for this. "It is +very rude," said he, "to laugh at people for things they cannot help. +How would you like to have a Lamb follow you around and bleat, 'Look at +that Chicken! He has only two legs! Hello, little two-legs; how can you +walk?' It is just as bad for you to laugh at his harsh voice, because he +cannot help it. If he should say foolish and silly things, you might +laugh, because he could help that if he tried. Don't ever again let me +hear you laughing when he is just saying 'Paon.'" + +The Chickens minded the Black Spanish Cock, for they knew he was right +and that he did not do rude things himself. They remembered everything +he said, too. + +One day the Peacock was standing on the fence alone. He did this most of +the time. He usually stood with his back to the farmyard, so that people +who passed could see his train but not his feet. A party of young fowls +of all families came along. Their mothers had let them go off by +themselves, and they stopped to look at the Peacock. + +"I do think you have the most beautiful tail, sir," said a Duckling, +giving her own little pointed one a sideways shake as she spoke. + +"Please call it my train," said the Peacock. "It is beautiful and I am +very proud of it. Not every fowl can grow such a train as that." + +[Illustration: THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE.] + +"Oh, dear, no!" giggled a jolly little Bantam Chicken. "I'd grow one in +a minute if I could." + +This made all the other young fowls laugh, for they thought how funny +the little brown Bantam would look dragging around a great mass of +feathers like that. + +The Peacock did not even smile. He never understood a joke anyway. He +was always so busy thinking about himself that he couldn't see the +point. Now he cleared his throat and spoke to the Bantam Chicken. + +"I hope you don't think that I grew my train in a minute," said he. "It +took me a long, long time, although I kept all the feathers going at +once." + +"Look at his crest!" exclaimed one young Turkey in his piping voice. + +The Peacock turned his head so that they could see it more plainly. +"That is a crest to be proud of," he said. "I have never seen a finer +one myself. Have you noticed the beauty of my neck?" + +"Charming!" "Wonderful!" "Beautiful!" exclaimed the young fowls. Just +then one of the spoiled Dove children flew down from the barn roof and +sat beside the Peacock. + +"What homely feet you have!" this Squab exclaimed. "Are you not +dreadfully ashamed of them?" + +The young fowls thought this rude. Not one of them would have said it. +The Peacock became very angry. "I know my feet are not so handsome as +they might be," he said, "but that is no reason why I should be ashamed +of them. I couldn't help having that kind of feet. They run in my +family. I don't feel ashamed of things I can't help." + +The young fowls felt so uncomfortable after this that they walked away, +and the Squab flew back to the Dove-cote. For a time nobody spoke. Then +a Gosling, who had heard her mother talk about the Peacock, said, "I +should think he would be proud of his train, and his crest, and his +neck, and--and everything!" + +"Everything except his feet," giggled the Bantam Chicken, "and you know +he couldn't help having them." + +"I wonder if he could help having his train, and his crest, and his +neck, and--and everything?" said a young Turkey. + +They all stopped where they were. "We never thought of that!" they +cried. "We never thought of that!" + +"Let's go and ask the Blind Horse," said a Duckling. "He is a good +friend of mine, and he knows almost everything." + +They stalked and waddled over to the Blind Horse, and the Duckling told +him what was puzzling them. The Blind Horse laughed very heartily. "So +the Peacock is proud of having grown such a fine train and crest, but he +isn't ashamed of his homely feet, because he couldn't help having +those! There is no reason for either pride or shame with the Peacock. He +has just such a body as was given him, and he couldn't make one feather +grow differently if he tried." + +"I don't see what anybody can be proud of, then," said a Gosling sadly; +for, you see, she wanted to be proud of something. + +"Be proud of what you have done yourself," said the Blind Horse gently. +"Be proud of keeping clean, or of telling the truth, or of speaking +pleasantly when things go wrong. There are plenty of chances to be proud +in a good way, if one must be proud." + + + + +THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN + + +"Well," said the Gobbler, "I should like to know what next! Last spring +it was the White Pig, when we had never had any but black and brown ones +on the place. Next it was Ducks, because one of the farmer's boys wanted +them. Then it was the Peacock, to please the farmer's wife. Now it is +Guinea Fowls for the farmer's other son. Society isn't what it used to +be here, and while some of the new people may be very pleasant, I must +say that I preferred the good old quiet days." + +"I think it is lovely," cackled the cheerful little Bantam Hen. "One +hears so much of the world outside, and for people like myself, who +stay at home, that is a good thing. Everybody loved the White Pig before +she had been here two days, and my children are very fond of the +Ducklings. I like to have them together, too, for after I had told them +positively that my Chickens could not go in swimming, they stopped +teasing and became most delightful playmates." + +"What would you say about the Peacock?" asked the Shanghai Cock, who had +never been friendly with him, although, to tell the truth, the Shanghai +Cock was not so grumpy as he used to be. + +"Er--er--well," said the Bantam Hen, who tried not to say unpleasant +things about people unless she really had to, "he--he is certainly +beautiful, although I can't say that I am fond of hearing him sing." + +This made all the fowls laugh, even the Gobbler looking a little smiling +around the beak on the side where his hanging wattle did not hide his +face. When the Hen Turkeys on the smiling side saw that he was pleased, +they began to smile too; and then the Hen Turkeys on the other side, who +hadn't been sure that it was safe for them to do so, smiled also. And it +did them all a great deal of good. + +"I didn't see the Guinea Fowls," said one of the Geese. "We were +swimming when they came. How do they look? Are they handsomely dressed? +We shall not call upon them unless they are our kind of people." It was +some time since their last plucking for the season, and the Geese were +growing more airy every day now. + +"They are really very peculiar," said the Black Spanish Hen, "and not at +all common-looking. I should call them decidedly genteel." Here the +Geese looked at each other and nodded. They were always talking about +being genteel, although if you had asked them, they might not have been +able to tell what they meant by the word. "They are shaped quite like +small Hen Turkeys," added the Black Spanish Hen "and their feathers are +a dark bluish-gray with round white spots all over them. They do not +wear any feathers on top of their heads. When I saw the first one, I +thought she must have lost hers in an accident, but after the others +came up, I knew it must be the custom in their family." + +"And they are shaped like us?" asked the Hen Turkeys all together. They +were thinking that perhaps the Black Spanish Hen would call them +genteel-looking also, but she didn't. + +"Very much like you," she replied. "In fact, I think they said something +about being related to your family, although I am not sure. Do you +remember, dear?" she said, turning to the Black Spanish Cock. + +"Certainly," he answered. "The Guinea Hen with the orange-colored legs +said that their family was related to both the Turkeys and the Peacocks, +and that they were pleased to see members of those families here." + +"Gobble-gobble-gobble," called the Gobbler to the Hen Turkeys. "You must +call upon our relatives as soon as you can. I will go later. I always +wait to find out more about strangers before calling. It is my way." He +didn't stop to think that if everybody waited as long as he did, the +strangers would be very lonely. + +After this, they scattered to feed, and the Hen Turkeys and their +children looked for the Guinea Fowls. "Listen," said one, "and we may +hear them talking to each other." They stood still, with their heads +well up and turned a little to one side. They heard a harsh voice +saying, "Ca-mac! Ca-mac!" and as none of their old friends ever said +"Ca-mac!" they knew at once that it was one of the newcomers. They +walked around the corner of the Sheep-shed, and there found them, a +Guinea Cock and two Guinea Hens. One of the Guinea Hens had +orange-colored legs, while the others had dark grayish-brown ones. + +"Good-morning," said the Hen Turkeys. "Are you the Guinea Fowls?" + +"We are," said the one with the bright-colored legs, "and you are the +Turkeys, are you not?" + +"We are the Hen Turkeys," said they, "and these are our children. The +Gobbler didn't feel that he could come with us this morning, but he will +come later. He got very tired in Grasshopper season and is hardly over +it yet." + +"That is too bad," said the Guinea Cock politely. "We hope he will soon +be better. It is a hard time for all Turkeys--so much running to and +fro, besides the stretching of the neck whenever a Grasshopper comes +near." + +"Perhaps he overate somewhat," said one of the Hen Turkeys. "We were +quite worried about him for a time. He slept so poorly and dreamed that +he was being chased. He always has a good appetite, and you know how it +is when there is so much food around. One cannot let it alone." + +So they chatted on about one thing and another, and walked as they +visited. The Guinea Fowls were more fussy and restless than the Turkeys, +and even when they were speaking would run after some dainty bit of food +that had just caught their eyes. Of course the Hen Turkeys said how glad +they were to have the Guinea Fowls come there to live, and hoped that +they would enjoy their new home. All of the farmyard people thought it a +most delightful place. + +"Oh, yes," cried the Guinea Hen with the bright-colored legs, "it is +very pleasant, of course, but I wish you could see the farm we left." + +"Why! Was it better than this?" asked the Turkey Chicks, crowding around +her. They were so surprised that they forgot their mothers' telling them +that if they came they must be very quiet, and making them all repeat +together, "Little Turkeys should be seen and not heard." + +"Better? My dears, it was not to be spoken of in the same breath. I +understand that when one has always lived here, this may seem very nice, +but when one has known better things, it is hard to be contented." + +"Still, we shall be very happy here, I am sure," said the other Guinea +Hen, the one with the brown legs. "People all seem so bright and +pleasant. I like it very much indeed." + +"We are glad of that," said the Turkeys all together. "We really must be +going. We fear we have stayed too long already. The Gobbler will wonder +if we are never coming back. Good-morning." + +As they walked off to look for him, one Hen Turkey said to another, "It +must be hard to come here after living on that farm." + +"Yes," was the answer, "I suppose that we don't really know what comfort +is here." + +When the Gobbler asked them about the Guinea Fowls, and how they were +enjoying their new home, the Hen Turkeys sighed and answered, "Oh, as +well as they can enjoy this farm, we suppose." The Gobbler was a little +surprised by this reply, but he said nothing, and as he pecked at the +corn which had just been spilled from the load the Oxen were drawing, he +thought, "I wish we could have better corn to eat. This does not taste +quite as it should." + +When the Geese met the Guinea Fowls, they began to speak of the pleasure +of living on such a fine farm. "Ah," said the Guinea Hen with the +bright-colored legs, "how I wish you might see the one we left when we +came here. It was so different." + +The other Guinea Fowls looked uncomfortable when she spoke in this way, +and stood first on one foot and then on the other. Then the Cock said +something about the sunshiny fall weather, and the good neighbors, +and--and---- + +The Gander spoke again of the farm. "It is not all that we could wish," +said he; "still there are some good things about it. There are several +swimming places which are fine and cold in winter." + +"If it were only better cared for," said the Gray Goose. "I had a +dreadful time a while ago, when I tried to get through a hole in the +fence. I don't remember what was the matter with the hole, and perhaps I +never knew, but the farmer should have such things fixed. My neck was +lame for days afterward, and he was wholly to blame." + +After this, the Geese found fault with almost everything, and when there +was no one thing to grumble about, they sighed because, "It was so +different from what it might be." It was not long before even the spring +Chickens, the Goslings, and the Ducklings were speaking in the same way, +and the poultry-yard was a most doleful place. The Bantam Hen was the +only really cheerful fowl there, and she got so tired of hearing the +rest sigh and grumble, that she often slipped between the pickets of the +fence and went to have a comfortable chat with the Oxen. + +One day she fluttered toward them in a most excited manner. "Do I look +nearly crazy?" said she. "I feel so. Ever since our last storm, the +Guinea Fowls have been shut in with us, and I would give half of my +tail-feathers if they had never come here. That one with the +orange-colored legs can't see good in anything, and all of our steady, +sensible fowls have heard it until they begin to believe that this farm +is a wretched place." + +"What do they do?" asked the Nigh Ox, who always enjoyed hearing the +Bantam Hen talk. + +"Do?" said she, shaking her dainty little head. "They don't do much of +anything. That is what is the matter, and the young fowls are the worst +of all. You know how it used to be at feeding time? We all fluttered and +squabbled for the first chance at the food. Some Hen got the biggest +piece, and then the rest would chase her from one corner to another, and +not give her a chance to break and swallow any of it until she would +share with them. It was great fun, and we never left a scrap uneaten. +Now, what do you think?" + +"Can't imagine," exclaimed the Oxen in one breath. + +"Well, they all stand around on one foot for a while, and I am the only +one eating. Then somebody says, 'I wonder if this is any better than +the last we had.' Another will groan, 'Oh, is it time to eat again?' or, +'Suppose I must eat something to keep up my strength.' Then I hear the +bright-legged Guinea Hen say, 'Ca-mac! Ca-mac! This is all so different, +so very different from what I have been used to.' The Cock and the other +Hen of that family are nice enough if you only get them away from her." + +"What nonsense!" exclaimed the Oxen together, and they spoke quite +sharply for them. + +"I wish," said the Bantam Hen very slowly, and as though she meant every +word--"I wish the bright-legged one were back where it was 'so +different.' Perhaps then my friends would begin to act like themselves." + +"Where did she come from?" asked the Off Ox. "It seems to me that I saw +a bright-legged Guinea Hen somewhere not long ago." He thought very +hard, so hard that he swallowed his cud without knowing he did so. + +"Wasn't it at the place where we took that load of stone the other day?" +asked the Nigh Ox, trying to help his brother. He knew how disagreeable +it is not to be able to recall anything of that sort. + +"It was," cried the Off Ox; "and a very poor farm it is. It was the same +Hen too. Talk about its being different! I should say it was different +from this place, but there are a good many ways of being different. +Um-hum! I think I will talk with the discontented Guinea Hen before +long, and I want you to see that the other fowls are listening when I +do." + +Although he would say nothing more, the Bantam Hen saw from the look in +his eyes that he meant to stop the Guinea Hen's complaining, so she went +away feeling happier. Then the Off Ox unswallowed his cud and began to +chew it as though nothing had happened. His brother heard him chuckle +once in a while, and say, "Different!" under his breath. + +When the Off Ox awakened from time to time during that night and heard +the Guinea Hens talking in the dark, he chuckled again to himself. The +Guinea Cock was a sound sleeper, but the Hens always talked a great deal +between sunset and sunrise, and especially if it were about to rain. +Other people thought that they might talk more in the daytime and then +keep quiet when their neighbors wanted to sleep. They declared that they +always remembered so many things to say as soon as they went to roost, +and that if they waited until morning they might forget more than half. + +The very next day, the Off Ox had the chance he wanted. He and his +brother were yoked to the stone-boat and left standing by the +poultry-yard. "Good-afternoon," said he. "Is the bright-legged Guinea +Hen here?" + +"I am," she answered, coming close to the pickets. + +"We are just going over to your old home," said he, "with this load of +stone. Have you any messages to send to your friends?" + +The Guinea Hen looked rather uncomfortable, and stood first on one foot +and then the other. "Tell them I am well," said she. + +"I will," said the Off Ox, in his hearty way. "I will try to tell them +all. I think I can, too, for there did not seem to be many people in +that farmyard. I didn't see Ducks or Geese at all. Are there any living +there?" + +"No," said the Guinea Hen. She did not seem to think of anything else to +say, although nobody spoke for a long time. + +"Of course not!" exclaimed the Off Ox. "How stupid of me to ask. There +is no brook or river on that farm." + +Still the Guinea Hen said nothing. + +"We are dragging stone for their new barn," said the Off Ox. "Or perhaps +I should say for their barn. One could hardly say that they have any +yet, although I suppose they use those loosely built sheds for barns. I +wonder people can spend a winter where there are such drafts; still, +home is always home, and people love it for that reason. We are glad to +have your family with us, not only to keep away the Crows (which was +part of the Guinea Fowls' work), but because you will be more +comfortable. I've never yet in all my travels seen so good a farm as +this, and the one you left was so different! Good-bye." + +There was not much talking in the poultry-yard the rest of the +afternoon, although most of the fowls looked happier than they had for +many days. When supper-time came, the Dorking Hen snatched the biggest +pieces of food, and the others chased her from corner to corner in quite +the old way. Every scrap was eaten, and nobody laughed when the Shanghai +Cock said that the fine weather had given him a better appetite. It was +really a dark and chilly day, but they had stopped thinking how much +better off they would be if they only lived somewhere else. As soon as +they stopped thinking that, they could see how well they were cared for +at home. And so, although nobody had really looked at the sky or thought +about the weather, everybody had a feeling that the sun must have been +shining. + +Perhaps the Guinea Cock and the other Guinea Hen were the happiest of +all, for they had not known what to do or say when the bright-legged one +talked about her old home. It all seemed like a joke now, yet she never +liked the Off Ox after that day. The other fowls were as nice to her as +ever, for they knew it was a sad thing to be so discontented, and they +knew, also, that if they had not been foolish enough to let her, she +could never have made them unhappy. + + + + +THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES + + +It was a clear, cold winter morning, and the Cattle stood in the +barnyard where the great yellow straw-stacks were. They had nibbled away +at the lower part of these stacks until there was a sheltered place +underneath. The Calves liked to stand on the sunshiny side with an +over-hanging ledge of straw above their heads. The wind did not strike +them here, and they could reach up and pull out wisps to eat when they +had nothing else to do. Not that they were so fond of eating straw, but +it was fun to pull it out. There was, however, usually something else to +be done, for there was always their cud to chew. + +Among all the farmyard people, there were none more particular about +their food. They might eat in a hurry when time was short, or when the +grass was fresh and green, but after they had swallowed it and filled +the first of their four stomachs with partly chewed food, they would +find some quiet and comfortable place where they could stand or lie +easily and finish their eating. To do this, they had to bring the partly +chewed food from the first stomach to the mouth again. They called this +"unswallowing it," although they should have said "regurgitating." + +After the food was back in their mouths again, it was spoken of as their +cud, and the stout muscles in the sides of their faces pulled their +lower jaws up and down and sideways, and the food was caught over and +over again between the blunt grinding teeth in the back part of their +mouths, and was crushed, squeezed, and turned until it was fine, soft, +and ready to swallow into the second stomach. + +Then the Cattle do not have to think of it again, but while they are +doing something quite different, and perhaps forgetting all about it, +there are many nerves and muscles and fine red blood-drops as busy as +can be, passing it into the third and fourth stomachs, and changing the +strength of the food into the strength of the Cattle. The Cows and the +Oxen do not know this. They never heard of muscles and nerves, and +perhaps you never did before, yet these are wonderful little helpers and +good friends if one is kind to them. All that Cattle know about eating +is that they must have clean food, that they must eat because they are +hungry and not just because it tastes good, and that they must chew it +very carefully. And if they do these things as they should, they are +quite sure to be well and comfortable. + +The Oxen were standing by the barn door, and the Calves were talking +about them. They liked their uncles, the Oxen, very much, but like many +other Calves the world over, they thought them rather slow and +old-fashioned. Now the Colts had been saying the same thing, and so +these half-dozen shaggy youngsters, who hadn't a sign of a horn, were +telling what they would do if they were Oxen. Sometimes they spoke more +loudly than they meant to, and the Oxen heard them, but they did not +know this. + +"If I were an Ox," said one, "I wouldn't stand still and let the farmer +put that heavy yoke on my neck. I'd edge away and kick." + +"Tell you what I'd do," said another. "I'd stand right still when he +tried to make me go, and I wouldn't stir until I got ready." + +"I wouldn't do that," said a third. "I'd run away and upset the stone in +a ditch. I don't think it's fair to always make them pull the heavy +loads while the Horses have all the fun of taking the farmer to town and +drawing the binder and all the other wonderful machines." + +"Isn't it too bad that you are not Oxen?" said a deep voice behind them. +The Calves jumped, and there was the Off Ox close to them. He was so +near that you could not have set a Chicken coop between him and them, +and he had heard every word. The Calves did not know where to look or +what to say, for they had not been speaking very politely. The one who +had just spoken wanted to act easy and as though he did not care, so he +raised one hind hoof to scratch his ear, and gave his brushy tail a toss +over one flank. "Oh, I don't know," said he. + +"I used to talk in just that way when I was a Calf," said the Off Ox, +with a twinkle in his large brown eyes. "All Calves think they'll do +wonders when they're grown." + +"I know I thought so," said the Nigh Ox, who had followed his brother. + +"Well, if you wanted to," asked the Red Calf, "why don't you do those +things now?" The others wondered how he dared to ask such a question. + +"It doesn't pay," said the Nigh Ox. "Do all your frisking in playtime. I +like fun as well as anybody, yet when our yoke is taken from its peg, I +say business is business and the closer we stick to it the better. I +knew a sitting Hen once who wanted to see everything that happened. She +was always running out to see somebody or other, and sometimes she +stayed longer than she meant to. I told her she'd better stick to her +nest, and she said she didn't believe in working all the time." + +"How soon did her Chickens hatch?" asked the Calves all together. + +"Never did hatch, of course," chuckled the Nigh Ox. "She fooled herself +into thinking she was working, and she made a great fuss about her legs +aching and her giving up society, but she couldn't fool that nestful of +eggs. They had gotten cold and they knew it, and not one of them would +hatch." + +"Wasn't she ashamed then?" asked the Calves. + +"Didn't act so," snorted the Nigh Ox. "Went around talking about her +great disappointment, and said she couldn't see why the other Hens had +so much better luck." + +The Off Ox chuckled. "He told her that he guessed it might have been +something besides bad luck, and that the next time she'd better stay on +her nest more. Then she asked him how many broods of Chickens he had +hatched. Ho-ho-ho!" + +Everybody laughed, and the Calves wondered how the Nigh Ox could think +of it without being angry. "It wouldn't pay to be angry," he said. +"What's the use of wasting a fine great Ox temper on a poor little Hen +rudeness?" + +This made them think. They remembered how cross and hot and +uncomfortable they often became over very small things that bothered +them, and they began to think that perhaps even Calf tempers were worth +caring for. + +At last the Black Calf, the prettiest one in the yard, said, "Do you +like drawing that flat wagon which hasn't any wheels, and scrapes along +in the dust?" + +"The stone-boat?" asked the Off Ox. "We don't mind it. Never mind doing +our kind of work. Wouldn't like to pull the binder with its shining +knives and whirling arms, for whoever does that has to walk fast and +make sudden turns and stops. Wouldn't like being hitched to the carriage +to carry the farmer's family to town. Wouldn't like to take care of the +Sheep, like Collie, or to grow feathers like the Geese--but we can draw +stone-boats and all sorts of heavy loads, if we do say it." + +The Red Calf, who was always running and kicking up his heels, said, +"Oh, it's such slow work! I should think you'd feel that you would never +reach the end of your journey." + +"We don't think about that," answered the Nigh Ox. "It doesn't pay. We +used to, though. I remember the time when I wished myself a Swallow, +flying a mile a minute, instead of step-step-stepping my way through +life. My mother was a sensible Cow, and wore the bell in our herd. She +cured me of that foolishness. She told me that Swallows had to fly one +wing-beat at a time, and that dinners had to be eaten one mouthful at a +time, and that nothing really worth while could be done in a minute. She +said that if we were forever thinking how much work we had to do and +how tiresome it was, we'd never enjoy life, and we wouldn't live long +either. Lazy Oxen never do. That's another thing which doesn't pay." + +The Red Calf and the White Calf spoke together: "We will always be +sensible. We will never lose our tempers. We will never be afraid to +work. We will be fine and long-lived cattle." + +"Might you not better say you will _try_ to be sensible?" asked the Nigh +Ox. "You know it is not always easy to do those things, and one has to +begin over and over again." + +"Oh, no," they answered. "We know what we can do." + +"You might be mistaken," said the Oxen gently. + +"I am never mistaken," said the Red Calf. + +"Neither am I," said the White Calf. + +"Well, good-morning," called the Oxen, as they moved off. "We are going +to talk with our sisters, the Cows." + +After they had gone, the pretty Black Calf spoke in her pleasant way: +"It seems to me I shall be an old Cow before I can learn to be good and +sensible like them, but I am going to try." + +"Pooh!" said the Red Calf. "It is easy enough to be sensible if you want +to be--as easy as eating." + +"Yes," said the White Calf. "I shall never lose my temper again, now +that I am sure it is foolish to do so." + +"Dear me!" said the pretty Black Calf. "How strong and good you must be. +I can only keep on trying." + +"Pooh!" said the Red Calf again. Then he lowered his voice and spoke to +her. "Move along," said he, "and let me stand beside you in the cubby +while I chew my cud." + +"Don't you do it," cried the White Calf. "I want that place myself." + +[Illustration: THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF.] + +"I guess not!" exclaimed the Red Calf. "I'll bunt you first." + +"Bunt away, then," said the White Calf, "but I'll have that place." + +"Oh, please don't fight!" exclaimed the Black Calf. "I'll let one of you +have my corner." + +"Don't you move," cried each of them. "I want to stand by you." Then +they lowered their heads and looked into each other's eyes. Next, they +put their hard foreheads together, and pushed and pushed and pushed. +Sometimes the Red Calf made the White Calf go backward, and sometimes it +was the other way. Once in a while they stood still and rested. Then +they began pushing again. + +While they were quarrelling in this way, getting warmer and more angry +all the time, and losing those very tempers which they had said they +would always keep, a young Jersey had stepped into the cubby beside the +Black Calf, and they were having a pleasant visit. "What are those +fellows fighting about?" he asked. + +The Black Calf smiled a funny little smile. "They are fighting," said +she, "to see which one shall stand in the cubby with me and chew his +cud." + +The Jersey Calf was a shrewd young fellow of very good family. +"Perhaps," said he, "I ought to stay and guard the place until it is +decided who shall have it." + +"I wish you would," said she. + +And that was how it happened that the two Calves who lost their tempers +had a cross, tiresome, and uncomfortable day, while another had the very +corner which they wanted. When night came, they grumbled because the +Jersey Calf had come out ahead of them, and they thought it very +strange. But it was not strange, for the people who are quiet and +good-natured always come out ahead in the end. And the people who are so +very sure that it is easy to be good when they really want to, are just +the very ones who sometimes do not want to when they should. + +The Black Calf was right. The only way to be sensible and happy is to +try and try and try, and it does pay. + + + + * * * * * + + + +Among the Forest People. + +By CLARA D. PIERSON. + +Illustrated by F. C. Gordon. + +12mo, 220 pages, cloth, gilt top--$1.25. + +[Illustration] + +"A most charming series of stories for children--yes, and for children +of all ages, both young and old--is given us in the volume before us. No +one can read these realistic conversations of the little creatures of +the wood without being most tenderly drawn toward them, and each story +teaches many entertaining facts regarding the lives and habits of these +little people. Mothers and teachers must welcome this little book most +cordially. One cannot speak too strongly in praise of it."--_Boston +Transcript._ + +"In pleasant story-telling guise, much information is conveyed, and the +pictures are a further help. A clever and charming book."--_Philadelphia +Eve. Telegraph._ + +"Is a book that every child will like to read."--_Hartford Courant._ + +"The scheme of the book is felicitous, and it is worked out with an +acute and sympathetic appreciation of methods for enlisting the +attention and impressing intelligently the memory of children. The +illustrations are distinctly helpful."--_Troy Daily Press._ + +"One does not know which to admire most--the intimate footing upon which +the author stands with the forest folk, or the intelligent sympathy she +has with sweet child life. She seems to be equally in touch with +both."--_Churchman._ + + +Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. + +E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers, 31 West 23d Street, New York. + + + + * * * * * + + + +"_Many a mother and teacher will accord a vote of thanks to +the author._" + +[Illustration] + +~Among the Meadow People.~ + +STORIES OF FIELD LIFE, WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE ONES. + +By CLARA D. PIERSON. + +Illustrated by F. C. GORDON. + + 12mo, 127 pages, cloth, gilt top $1.25. + + * * * * * + +"One of the daintiest and in many ways most attractive of the many books +of nature study which the past year has brought forth."--_Boston +Advertiser._ + +"They are like Mrs. Gatty's well-known 'Parables from Nature,' written +in the best of English, as fascinating as fairy tales, and yet 'really +true,' a quality which we all know appeals to the childish mind."--_N. +Y. Evangelist._ + +"We have seen nothing better for its purpose, and hope many a teacher of +kindergartens and many a mother may avail herself of the privilege of +using these little tales."--_N.Y. Christian Advocate._ + +"It will be a great advance in the work of education in the school and +the home when such books are more generally utilized."--_Zion's Herald._ + +"These charming stories of field life will delight many a child of +kindergarten age; and it is safe to say that older brothers and sisters +will also want to claim a share in them."--_Christian Register._ + + * * * * * + +Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. + + E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers, + + 31 West 23d Street, New York. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Among the Farmyard People, by +Clara Dillingham Pierson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE FARMYARD PEOPLE *** + +***** This file should be named 19381-8.txt or 19381-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/8/19381/ + +Produced by David Newman, Chuck Greif, Janet Blenkinship +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Among the Farmyard People + +Author: Clara Dillingham Pierson + +Illustrator: F.C. Gordon + +Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19381] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE FARMYARD PEOPLE *** + + + + +Produced by David Newman, Chuck Greif, Janet Blenkinship +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/imgcover.jpg" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /></div> + + + <h1><span class='smcap'>Among the Farmyard People</span><br /><br /></h1> + + <h4>BY</h4> + + <h2><span class='smcap'>Clara Dillingham Pierson</span></h2> + + <h4>Author of "Among the Meadow People," and "Forest People"<br /><br /></h4> + + <h3>Illustrated by F. C. GORDON<br /><br /></h3> + +<p><a name="FRONTIS" id="FRONTIS"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img001.jpg" alt="Geese" title="Geese" /></div> + + + <p class='center'>NEW YORK<br /> + Copyright by<br /> + E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY<br /> + 31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET<br /> + 1899</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img003.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>TO THE CHILDREN</h2> + +<p><i>Dear Little Friends:</i></p> + +<p>I want to introduce the farmyard people to you, and to have you call +upon them and become better acquainted as soon as you can. Some of them +are working for us, and we surely should know them. Perhaps, too, some +of us are working for them, since that is the way in this delightful +world of ours, and one of the happiest parts of life is helping and +being helped.</p> + +<p>It is so in the farmyard, and although there is not much work that the +people there can do for each other, there are many kind things to be +said, and even the Lame Duckling found that he could make the Blind +Horse happy when he tried. It is there as it is everywhere else, and I +sometimes think that although the farmyard people do not look like us or +talk like us, they are not so very different after all. If you had seen +the little Chicken who wouldn't eat gravel when his mother was reproving +him, you could not have helped knowing his thoughts even if you did not +understand a word of the Chicken language. He was thinking, "I don't +care! I don't care a bit! So now!" That was long since, for he was a +Chicken when I was a little girl, and both of us grew up some time ago. +I think I have always been more sorry for him because when he was +learning to eat gravel I was learning to eat some things which I did not +like; and so, you see, I knew exactly how he felt. But it was not until +afterwards that I found out how his mother felt.</p> + +<p>That is one of the stories which I have been keeping a long time for +you, and the Chicken was a particular friend of mine. I knew him better +than I did some of his neighbors; yet they were all pleasant +acquaintances, and if I did not see some of these things happen with my +own eyes, it is just because I was not in the farmyard at the right +time. There are many other tales I should like to tell you about them, +but one mustn't make the book too fat and heavy for your hands to hold, +so I will send you these and keep the rest.</p> + +<p>Many stories might be told about our neighbors who live out-of-doors, +and they are stories that ought to be told, too, for there are still +boys and girls who do not know that animals think and talk and work, and +love their babies, and help each other when in trouble. I knew one boy +who really thought it was not wrong to steal newly built birds'-nests, +and I have seen girls—quite large ones, too—who were afraid of Mice! +It was only last winter that a Quail came to my front door, during the +very cold weather, and snuggled down into the warmest corner he could +find. I fed him, and he stayed there for several days, and I know, and +you know, perfectly well that although he did not say it in so many +words, he came to remind me that I had not yet told you a Quail story. +And two of my little neighbors brought ten Polliwogs to spend the day +with me, so I promised then and there that the next book should be about +pond people and have a Polliwog story in it.</p> + +<p>And now, good-bye! Perhaps some of you will write me about your visits +to the farmyard. I hope you will enjoy them very much, but be sure you +don't wear red dresses or caps when you call on the Turkey Gobbler.</p> + + + <p><span style="margin-left: 12em;">Your friend,</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Clara Dillingham Pierson.</span><br /><br /> + + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Stanton, Michigan,</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">March 28, 1899.</span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_1'><b>1</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_12'><b>12</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_20'><b>20</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_33'><b>33</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_47'><b>47</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_64'><b>64</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE TWIN LAMBS</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_82'><b>82</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_96'><b>96</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE LONELY LITTLE PIG</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_106'><b>106</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_116'><b>116</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_136'><b>136</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_149'><b>149</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_160'><b>160</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_172'><b>172</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_186'><b>186</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BRAGGING PEACOCK</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_199'><b>199</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_213'><b>213</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_232'><b>232</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img003.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING</td><td align='right'><a href='#SWALLOWS'><b>2</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL</td><td align='right'><a href='#LAMB'><b>16</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM</td><td align='right'><a href='#SWIM'><b>40</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES</td><td align='right'><a href='#JERKING'><b>77</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>FEEDING THE LAMBS</td><td align='right'><a href='#FEEDING'><b>84</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF</td><td align='right'><a href='#BROWN_PIG'><b>110</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"I AM THE WHITE KITTEN"</td><td align='right'><a href='#KITTEN'><b>130</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH</td><td align='right'><a href='#GRAY_GOOSE'><b>156</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER</td><td align='right'><a href='#COLLIE'><b>170</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD HER.</td><td align='right'><a href='#FRONTIS'><b><i>Frontispiece</i></b></a> <a href='#GOBBLER'><b>194</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE,</td><td align='right'><a href='#PEACOCK'><b>208</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF</td><td align='right'><a href='#RED_CALF'><b>243</b></a></td></tr> +</table> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img029.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL</h2> + + +<p>"Listen!" said the Nigh Ox, "don't you hear some friends coming?"</p> + +<p>The Off Ox raised his head from the grass and stopped to brush away a +Fly, for you never could hurry either of the brothers. "I don't hear any +footfalls," said he.</p> + +<p>"You should listen for wings, not feet," said the Nigh Ox, "and for +voices, too."</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke there floated down from the clear air overhead a soft +"tittle-ittle-ittle-ee," as though some bird were laughing for +happiness. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the meadow was covered +with thousands and thousands of green grass blades, each so small and +ten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>der, and yet together making a most beautiful carpet for the feet of +the farmyard people, and offering them sweet and juicy food after their +winter fare of hay and grain. Truly it was a day to make one laugh aloud +for joy. The alder tassels fluttered and danced in the spring breeze, +while the smallest and shyest of the willow pussies crept from their +little brown houses on the branches to grow in the sunshine.</p> + +<p><a name="SWALLOWS" id="SWALLOWS"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img002.jpg" + alt="THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING" /><br /> + <b>THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING.</b> + </div> + +<p>"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" And this time it was +louder and clearer than before.</p> + +<p>"The Swallows!" cried the Oxen to each other. Then they straightened +their strong necks and bellowed to the Horses, who were drawing the plow +in the field beyond, "The Swallows are coming!"</p> + +<p>As soon as the Horses reached the end of the furrow and could rest a +minute, they tossed their heads and whinnied with delight. Then they +looked around<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> at the farmer, and wished that he knew enough of the +farmyard language to understand what they wanted to tell him. They knew +he would be glad to hear of their friends' return, for had they not seen +him pick up a young Swallow one day and put him in a safer place?</p> + +<p>"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" and there was a sudden darkening of the sky +above their heads, a whirr of many wings, a chattering and laughing of +soft voices, and the Swallows had come. Perched on the ridge-pole of the +big barn, they rested and visited and heard all the news.</p> + +<p>The Doves were there, walking up and down the sloping sides of the roof +and cooing to each other about the simple things of every-day life. You +know the Doves stay at home all winter, and so it makes a great change +when their neighbors, the Swallows, return. They are firm friends in +spite of their very different ways of living. There was never a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> Dove +who would be a Swallow if he could, yet the plump, quiet, gray and white +Doves dearly love the dashing Swallows, and happy is the Squab who can +get a Swallow to tell him stories of the great world.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it good to be home, home, home!" sang one Swallow. "I never set +my claws on another ridge-pole as comfortable as this."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to look at my old nest," said a young Swallow, as she +suddenly flew down to the eaves.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll go, too," said another young Swallow, springing away from +his perch. He was a handsome fellow, with a glistening dark blue head +and back, a long forked tail which showed a white stripe on the under +side, a rich buff vest, and a deep blue collar, all of the finest +feathers. He loved the young Swallow whom he was following, and he +wanted to tell her so.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is the nest where I was hatched," she said. "Would you think I +was ever crowded in there with five brothers and sisters? It was a +comfortable nest, too, before the winter winds and snow wore it away. I +wonder how it would seem to be a fledgling again?" She snuggled down in +the old nest until he could see only her forked tail and her dainty head +over the edge. Her vest was quite hidden, and the only light feathers +that showed were the reddish-buff ones on throat and face; these were +not so bright as his, but still she was beautiful to him. He loved every +feather on her body.</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to be a fledgling again," he cried. "I want you to +help me make a home under the eaves, a lovely little nest of mud and +straw, where you can rest as you are now doing, while I bring food to +you. Will you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she cried. "Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Oh, tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" +And she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> flew far up into the blue sky, while he followed her, +twittering and singing.</p> + +<p>"Where are those young people going?" said an older Swallow. "I should +think they had flown far enough for to-day without circling around for +the fun of it."</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember the days when you were young?" said the Swallow next +to him.</p> + +<p>"When I was young?" he answered. "My dear, I am young now. I shall +always be young in the springtime. I shall never be old except when I am +moulting."</p> + +<p>Just then a family of Doves came pattering over the roof, swaying their +heads at every step. "We are so glad to see you back," said the father. +"We had a long, cold winter, and we thought often of you."</p> + +<p>"A very cold winter," cooed his plump little wife.</p> + +<p>"Tell me a story," said a young Dove, their son.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hush, hush," said the Father Dove. "This is our son," he added, "and +this is his sister. We think them quite a pair. Our last brood, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Tell us a story," said the young Dove again.</p> + +<p>"Hush, dear. You mustn't tease the Swallow," said his mother. "They are +so fond of stories," she cooed, "and they have heard that your family +are great travellers."</p> + +<p>"But I want him to tell us a story," said the young Dove. "I think he +might."</p> + +<p>This made the Swallow feel very uncomfortable, for he could see that the +children had been badly brought up, and he did not want to tell a story +just then.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you would like to hear about our journey south," said he. "Last +fall, when the maples began to show red and yellow leaves among the +green, we felt like flying away. It was quite warm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> weather, and the +forest birds were still here, but when we feel like flying south we +always begin to get ready."</p> + +<p>"I never feel like flying south," said the young Dove. "I don't see why +you should."</p> + +<p>"That is because I am a Swallow and you are a farmyard Dove. We talked +about it to each other, and one day we were ready to start. We all had +on our new feathers and felt strong and well. We started out together, +but the young birds and their mothers could not keep up with the rest, +so we went on ahead."</p> + +<p>"Ahead of whom?" said the young Dove, who had been preening his feathers +when he should have been listening.</p> + +<p>"Ahead of the mothers and their fledglings. We flew over farms where +there were Doves like you; over rivers where the Wild Ducks were feeding +by the shore; and over towns where crowds of boys and girls were going +into large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> buildings, while on top of these buildings were large bells +singing, 'Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't think that was a very pretty song," said the young Dove.</p> + +<p>"Hush," said his mother, "you mustn't interrupt the Swallow."</p> + +<p>"And at last we came to a great lake," said the Swallow. "It was so +great that when we had flown over it for a little while we could not see +land at all, and our eyes would not tell us which way to go. We just +went on as birds must in such places, flying as we felt we ought, and +not stopping to ask why or to wonder if we were right. Of course we +Swallows never stop to eat, for we catch our food as we fly, but we did +sometimes stop to rest. Just after we had crossed this great lake we +alighted. It was then that a very queer thing happened, and this is +really the story that I started to tell."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the young Dove and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> sister. "How very exciting. But wait +just a minute while we peep over the edge of the roof and see what the +farmer is doing." And before anybody could say a word they had pattered +away to look.</p> + +<p>The birds who were there say that the Swallow seemed quite disgusted, +and surely nobody could blame him if he did.</p> + +<p>"You must excuse them," cooed their mother. "They are really hardly more +than Squabs yet, and I can't bear to speak severely to them. I'm sure +they didn't mean to be rude."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly," said the Swallow. "I will excuse them and you +must excuse me. I wish to see a few of my old friends before the sun +goes down. Good afternoon!" And he darted away.</p> + +<p>The young Doves came pattering back, swaying their heads as they walked. +"Why, where is the Swallow?" they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> cried. "What made him go away? Right +at the best part of the story, too. We don't see why folks are so +disagreeable. People never are as nice to us as they are to the other +young Doves."</p> + +<p>"Hush," said their mother. "You mustn't talk in that way. Fly off for +something to eat, and never mind about the rest of the story."</p> + +<p>When they were gone, she said to her husband, "I wonder if they did hurt +the Swallow's feelings? But then, they are so young, hardly more than +Squabs."</p> + +<p>She forgot that even Squabs should be thoughtful of others, and that no +Dove ever amounts to anything unless he begins in the right way as a +Squab.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img056.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL</h2> + + +<p>The Sheep are a simple and kind-hearted family, and of all the people on +the farm there are none who are more loved than they. All summer they +wander in the fields, nibbling the fresh, sweet grass, and resting at +noon in the shadow of the trees, but when the cold weather comes they +are brought up to the farmyard and make their home in the long low +Sheep-shed.</p> + +<p>That is always a happy time. The Horses breathe deeply and toss their +heads for joy, the Cows say to each other, "Glad to have the Sheep come +up," and even the Oxen shift their cuds and look long over their +shoulders at the woolly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> newcomers. And this is not because the Sheep +can do anything for their neighbors to make them warm or to feed them. +It is only because they are a gentle folk and pleasant in all they say; +and you know when people are always kind, it makes others happy just to +see them and have them near.</p> + +<p>Then, when the cold March winds are blowing, the good farmer brings more +yellow straw into the Sheep-shed, and sees that it is warm and snug. If +there are any boards broken and letting the wind in, he mends them and +shuts out the cold. At this time, too, the Horses and Cattle stop often +in their eating to listen. Even the Pigs, who do not think much about +their neighbors, root in the corners nearest the Sheep-shed and prick up +their ears.</p> + +<p>Some bleak morning they hear a faint bleating and know that the first +Lamb is there. And then from day to day they hear more of the soft +voices as the new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> Lambs come to live with the flock. Such queer little +creatures as the Lambs are when they first come—so weak and awkward! +They can hardly stand alone, and stagger and wobble around the little +rooms or pens where they are with their mothers. You can just imagine +how hard it must be to learn to manage four legs all at once!</p> + +<p>There is one thing which they do learn very quickly, and that is, to +eat. They are hungry little people, and well they may be, for they have +much growing to do, and all of the food that is to be made into good +stout bodies and fine long wool has to go into their mouths and down +their throats to their stomachs. It is very wonderful to think that a +Cow eats grass and it is turned into hair to keep her warm, a Goose eats +grass and grows feathers, and a Sheep eats grass and grows wool. Still, +it is so, and nobody in the world can tell why. It is just one of the +things that are, and if you should ask "Why?" nobody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> could tell you the +reason. There are many such things which we cannot understand, but there +are many more which we can, so it would be very foolish for us to mind +when there is no answer to our "Why?"</p> + +<p>Yes, Sheep eat grass, and because they have such tiny mouths they have +to take small mouthfuls. The Lambs have different food for a +while,—warm milk from their mothers' bodies. When a mother has a Lamb +to feed, she eats a great deal, hay, grass, and chopped turnips, and +then part of the food that goes into her stomach is turned into milk and +stored in two warm bags for the Lamb to take when he is hungry. And how +the Lambs do like this milk! It tastes so good that they can hardly +stand still while they drink it down, and they give funny little jerks +and wave their woolly tails in the air.</p> + +<p><a name="LAMB" id="LAMB"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img016.jpg" + alt="THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL" /><br /> + <b>THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL.</b> + </div> + + +<p>There was one Lamb who had a longer tail than any of the rest, and, sad +to say, it made him rather vain. When he first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> came, he was too busy +drinking milk and learning to walk, to think about tails, but as he grew +older and stronger he began to know that he had the longest one. Because +he was a very young Lamb he was so foolish as to tease the others and +call out, "Baa! your tails are snippy ones!"</p> + +<p>Then the others would call back, "Baa! Don't care if they are!"</p> + +<p>After a while, his mother, who was a sensible Sheep and had seen much of +life, said to him: "You must not brag about your tail. It is very rude +of you, and very silly too, for you have exactly such a tail as was +given to you, and the other Lambs have exactly such tails as were given +to them, and when you are older you will know that it did not matter in +the least what kind of tail you wore when you were little." She might +have told him something else, but she didn't.</p> + +<p>The Lamb didn't dare to boast of his tail after this, but when he passed +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> others, he would look at his mother, and if he thought she wouldn't +see, he would wiggle it at them. Of course that was just as bad as +talking about it, and the other Lambs knew perfectly well what he meant; +still, they pretended not to understand.</p> + +<p>One morning, when his mother's back was turned, he was surprised to see +that she had only a short and stumpy tail. He had been thinking so much +of his own that he had not noticed hers. "Mother," he cried, "why didn't +you have a long tail too?"</p> + +<p>"I did have once," she answered with a sheepish smile.</p> + +<p>"Did it get broken?" he asked in a faint little voice. He was thinking +how dreadful it would be if he should break his.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," said his mother. "I will tell you all about it. All +little Lambs have long tails——"</p> + +<p>"Not so long as mine, though," said he, interrupting.</p> + +<p>"No, not so long as yours," she re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>plied, "but so long that if they were +left that way always they would make a great deal of trouble. As the +wool grows on them, they would catch burrs and sharp, prickly things, +which would pull the wool and sting the skin. The farmer knows this, so +when the little Lambs are about as old as you are now, he and his men +make their tails shorter."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried the Lamb, curling his tail in as far between his legs as he +could, "do you mean that they will shorten my tail, my beautiful long +tail?"</p> + +<p>"That is just what I mean," said his mother, "and you should be very +glad of it. When that is done, you will be ready to go out into the +field with me. A lot of trouble we should have if the men did not look +after such things for us; but that is what men are for, they say,—to +look after us Sheep."</p> + +<p>"But won't they laugh at me when my tail is shorter?" asked her son.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They would laugh at you if you wore it long. No Lamb who pretends to be +anybody would be seen in the pasture with a dangling tail. Only wild +Sheep wear them long, poor things!"</p> + +<p>Now the little Lamb wished that he had not boasted so much. Now, when +the others passed him, he did not put on airs. Now he wondered why they +couldn't have short tails in the beginning. He asked his uncle, an old +Wether Sheep, why this was and his uncle laughed. "Why, what would you +have done all these days if things happened in that way? What would you +have had to think about? What could you have talked about?" The little +Lamb hung his head and asked no more questions.</p> + +<p>"What do you think?" he called to a group of Lambs near by. "I'm going +to have one of the men shorten my tail. It is such a bother unless one +does have it done, and mine is so very long!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img010.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG</h2> + + +<p>"CUT-CUT-CA-DAH-CUT! Cut-cut-cut-ca-dah-cut!" called the Dorking Hen, as +she strutted around the poultry-yard. She held her head very high, and +paused every few minutes to look around in her jerky way and see whether +the other fowls were listening. Once she even stood on her left foot +right in the pathway of the Shanghai Cock, and cackled into his very +ears.</p> + +<p>Everybody pretended not to hear her. The people in the poultry-yard did +not like the Dorking Hen very well. They said that she put on airs. +Perhaps she did. She certainly talked a great deal of the place from +which she and the Dorking Cock came. They had come in a small<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> cage from +a large poultry farm, and the Dorking Hen never tired of telling about +the wonderful, noisy ride that they took in a dark car drawn by a great, +black, snorting creature. She said that this creature's feet grew on to +his sides and whirled around as he ran, and that he breathed out of the +top of his head. When the fowls first heard of this, they were much +interested, but after a while they used to walk away from her, or make +believe that they saw Grasshoppers whom they wanted to chase.</p> + +<p>When she found that people were not listening to her, she cackled louder +than ever, "Cut-cut-ca-dah-cut! Look at the egg—the egg—the egg—the +egg that I have laid."</p> + +<p>"Is there any particular reason why we should look at the egg—the +egg—the egg—the egg that you have laid?" asked the Shanghai Cock, who +was the grumpiest fowl in the yard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, usually if the Dorking Hen had been spoken to in this way, she +would have ruffled up her head feathers and walked away, but this time +she had news to tell and so she kept her temper. "Reason?" she cackled. +"Yes indeed! It is the finest egg that was ever laid in this +poultry-yard."</p> + +<p>"Hear her talk!" said a Bantam Hen. "I think it is in very poor taste to +lay such large eggs as most of the Hens do here. Small ones are much +more genteel."</p> + +<p>"She must forget an egg that I laid a while ago with two yolks," said a +Shanghai Hen. "That was the largest egg ever laid here, and I have +always wished that I had hatched it. A pair of twin chickens would have +been so interesting."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Dorking Hen, who could not keep still any longer, +"small eggs may be genteel and large ones may be interesting, but my +last one is bee-autiful."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'd just as soon tell us about it as to brag without +telling?" grumbled the Shanghai Cock. "I suppose it is grass color, or +sky color, or hay color, or speckled, like a sparrow's egg."</p> + +<p>"No," answered the Dorking Hen, "it is white, but it is shiny."</p> + +<p>"Shiny!" they exclaimed. "Who ever heard of a shiny egg?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody," she replied, "and that is why it is so wonderful."</p> + +<p>"Don't believe it," said the Shanghai Cock, as he turned away and began +scratching the ground.</p> + +<p>Now the Dorking Hen did get angry. "Come to see it, if you don't believe +me," she said, as she led the others into the Hen-house.</p> + +<p>She flew up to the row of boxes where the Hens had their nests, and +picked her way along daintily until she reached the farthest one. "Now +look," said she.</p> + +<p>One by one the fowls peeped into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> box, and sure enough, there it +lay, a fine, shiny, white egg. The little Bantam, who was really a +jolly, kind-hearted creature, said, "Well, it is a beauty. I should be +proud of it myself."</p> + +<p>"It is whiter than I fancy," said the Shanghai Cock, "but it certainly +does shine."</p> + +<p>"I shall hatch it," said the Dorking Hen, very decidedly. "I shall hatch +it and have a beautiful Chicken with shining feathers. I shall not hatch +all the eggs in the nest, but roll this one away and sit on it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said one of her friends, "somebody else may have laid it +after all, and not noticed. You know it is not the only one in the +nest."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said the Dorking Hen. "I guess I know! I am sure it was not +there when I went to the nest and it was there when I left. I must have +laid it."</p> + +<p>The fowls went away, and she tried to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> roll the shiny one away from the +other eggs, but it was slippery and very light and would not stay where +she put it. Then she got out of patience and rolled all the others out +of the nest. Two of them fell to the floor and broke, but she did not +care. "They are nothing but common ones, anyway," she said.</p> + +<p>When the farmer's wife came to gather the eggs she pecked at her and was +very cross. Every day she did this, and at last the woman let her alone. +Every-day she told the other fowls what a wonderful Chicken she expected +to have. "Of course he will be of my color," said she, "but his feathers +will shine brightly. He will be a great flyer, too. I am sure that is +what it means when the egg is light." She came off the nest each day +just long enough to stroll around and chat with her friends, telling +them what wonderful things she expected, and never letting them forget +that it was she who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> had laid the shiny egg. She pecked airily at the +food, and seemed to think that a Hen who was hatching such a wonderful +Chicken should have the best of everything. Each day she told some new +beauty that was to belong to her child, until the Shanghai Cock fairly +flapped his wings with impatience.</p> + +<p>Day after day passed, and the garden beyond the barn showed rows of +sturdy green plants, where before there had been only straight ridges of +fine brown earth. The Swallows who were building under the eaves of the +great barn, twittered and chattered of the wild flowers in the forest, +and four other Hens came off their nests with fine broods of downy +Chickens. And still the Dorking Hen sat on her shiny egg and told what a +wonderful Chicken she expected to hatch. This was not the only egg in +the nest now, but it was the only one of which she spoke.</p> + +<p>At last a downy Chicken peeped out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> one of the common eggs, and +wriggled and twisted to free himself from the shell. His mother did not +hurry him or help him. She knew that he must not slip out of it until +all the blood from the shell-lining had run into his tender little body. +If she had pushed the shell off before he had all of this fine red +blood, he would not have been a strong Chicken, and she wanted her +children to be strong.</p> + +<p>The Dorking Cock walked into the Hen-house and stood around on one foot. +He came to see if the shiny egg had hatched, but he wouldn't ask. He +thought himself too dignified to show any interest in newly hatched +Chickens before a Hen. Still, he saw no harm in standing around on one +foot and letting the Dorking Hen talk to him if she wanted to. When she +told him it was one of the common eggs that had hatched, he was quite +disgusted, and stalked out of doors without a word.</p> + +<p>The truth was that he had been rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> bragging to the other Cocks, and +only a few minutes later he spoke with pride of the time when "our" +shiny egg should hatch. "For," he said, "Mrs. Dorking and I have been +quite alone here as far as our own people are concerned. It is not +strange that we should feel a great pride in the wonderful egg and the +Chicken to be hatched from it. A Dorking is a Dorking after all, my +friends." And he flapped his wings, stretched his neck, and crowed as +loudly as he could.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Black Spanish Cock afterward, "a Dorking certainly is a +Dorking, although I never could see the sense of making such a fuss +about it. They are fat and they have an extra toe on each foot. Why +should a fowl want extra toes? I have four on each foot, and I can +scratch up all the food I want with them."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the grumpy old Shanghai Cock, "I am sick and tired of this +fuss.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> Common eggs are good enough for Shanghais and Black Spanish and +Bantams, and I should think——"</p> + +<p>Just at this minute they heard a loud fluttering and squawking in the +Hen-house and the Dorking Hen crying, "Weasel! Weasel!" The Cocks ran to +drive the Weasel away, and the Hens followed to see it done. All was +noise and hurry, and they saw nothing of the Weasel except the tip of +his bushy tail as he drew his slender body through an opening in the +fence.</p> + +<p>The Dorking Hen was on one of the long perches where the fowls roost at +night, the newly hatched Chicken lay shivering in the nest, and on the +floor were the pieces of the wonderful shiny egg. The Dorking Hen had +knocked it from the nest in her flight.</p> + +<p>The Dorking Cock looked very cross. He was not afraid of a Weasel, and +he did not see why she should be. "Just like a Hen!" he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Black Spanish Hen turned to him before he could say another word. +"Just like a Cock!" she exclaimed. "I never raise Chickens myself. It is +not the custom among the Black Spanish Hens. We lay the eggs and +somebody else hatches them. But if I had been on the nest as long as +Mrs. Dorking has, do you suppose I'd let any fowl speak to me as you +spoke to her? I'd—I'd—" and she was so angry that she couldn't say +another word, but just strutted up and down and cackled.</p> + +<p>A motherly old Shanghai Hen flew up beside Mrs. Dorking. "We are very +sorry for you," she said. "I know how I should have felt if I had broken +my two-yolked egg just as it was ready to hatch."</p> + +<p>The Bantam Hen picked her way to the nest. "What a dear little Chicken!" +she cried, in her most comforting tone. "He is so plump and so bright +for his age. But, my dear, he is chilly, and I think you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> should cuddle +him under your wings until his down is dry."</p> + +<p>The Dorking Hen flew down. "He is a dear," she said, "and yet when he +was hatched I didn't care much for him, because I had thought so long +about the shiny egg. It serves me right to lose that one, because I have +been so foolish. Still, I do not know how I could stand it if it were +not for my good neighbors."</p> + +<p>While Mrs. Dorking was talking with the Bantam by her nest, the Black +Spanish Hen scratched a hole in the earth under the perches, poked the +pieces of the shiny egg into it, and covered them up. "I never raise +Chickens myself," she said, "but if I did——"</p> + +<p>The Shanghai Cock walked away with the Dorking Cock. "I'm sorry for +you," he said, "and I am more sorry for Mrs. Dorking. She is too fine a +Hen to be spoken to as you spoke to her this morning, and I don't want +to hear any more of your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> fault-finding. Do you understand?" And he +ruffled his neck feathers and stuck his face close to that of the +Dorking Cock. They stared into each other's eyes for a minute; then the +Dorking Cock, who was not so big and strong as the Shanghai, shook his +head and answered sweetly, "It was rude of me. I won't do it again."</p> + +<p>From that day to this, nobody in the poultry yard has ever spoken of the +shiny egg, and the Dorkings are much liked by the other fowls. Yet if it +had not been for her trouble, Mrs. Dorking and her neighbors would never +have become such good friends. The little Dorkings are fine, +fat-breasted Chicks, with the extra toe on each foot of which all that +family are so proud.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img009.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO</h2> + + +<p>"Quack! Quack!" called the Duck who had been sitting on her nest so +long. "My first egg is cracked, and I can see the broad yellow bill of +my eldest child. Ah! Now I can see his downy white head." The Drake +heard her and quacked the news to every one around, and flapped his +wings, and preened his feathers, for was not this the first Duckling +ever hatched on the farm?</p> + +<p>The Drake had not been there long himself. It was only a few days before +the Duck began sitting that she and her five sisters had come with him +to this place. It had not taken them long to become acquainted with the +other farmyard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> people, and all had been kind to them. The Geese had +rather put on airs, at first, because they were bigger and had longer +legs, but the Ducks and Drake were too wise to notice this in any way, +and before long the Geese were as friendly as possible. They would have +shown the Ducks the way to the water if it had been necessary, but it +was not, for Ducks always know without being told just where to find it. +They know, and they do not know why they know. It is one of the things +that are.</p> + +<p>Now that the first Duckling had chipped the shell, everybody wanted to +see him, and there was soon a crowd of fowls around the nest watching +him free himself from it. The Drake stood by, as proud as a Peacock. "I +think he looks much like his mother," said he.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," cackled all the Hens. "The same broad yellow bill, the same +short yellow legs, and the same webbed feet."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>The mother Duck smiled. "He looks more like me now than he will by and +by," she said, "for when his feathers grow and cover the down, he will +have a stiff little one curled up on his back like the Drake's. And +really, except for the curled feather, his father and I look very much +alike."</p> + +<p>"That is so," said the Black Spanish Cock. "You do look alike; the same +white feathers, the same broad breast, the same strong wings, the same +pointed tail, the same long neck, the same sweet expression around the +bill!" That was just like the Black Spanish Cock. He always said +something pleasant about people when he could, and it was much better +than saying unpleasant things. Indeed, he was the most polite fowl in +the poultry-yard, and the Black Spanish Hen thought his manners quite +perfect.</p> + +<p>Then the Duckling's five aunts pushed their way through the crowd to the +nest under the edge of the strawstack. "Have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> you noticed what fine +large feet he has?" said one of them. "That is like his mother's people. +See what a strong web is between the three long toes on each foot! He +will be a good swimmer. The one toe that points backward is small, to be +sure, but he does not need that in swimming. That is only to make +waddling easier."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," "A fine web," and "Very large feet," cried the fowls around +the nest, but most of them didn't care so much about the size of his +feet as the Ducks did. Large feet are always useful, you know, yet +nobody needs them so badly as Geese and Ducks. The Geese were off +swimming, and so could not see the Duckling when first he came out of +the shell.</p> + +<p>"Tap-tap, tap-tap," sounded inside another shell, and they knew that +there would soon be a second damp little Duckling beside the first. The +visitors could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> not stay to see this one come out, and they went away +for a time. The eldest Duckling had supposed that this was life, to have +people around saying, "How bright he is!" "What fine legs!" or "He has a +beautiful bill!" And now that they all walked away and his mother was +looking after the Duckling who was just breaking her shell, he didn't +like it—he didn't like it at all.</p> + +<p>Still, it was much better so. If he had had no brothers and sisters, he +would have been a lonely little fellow; besides, he would have had his +own way nearly all the time, and that is likely to make any Duckling +selfish. Then, too, if all the other fowls had petted him and given him +the best of everything, he would have become vain. Truly, it was a good +thing for him not to be the only child, and he soon learned to think so.</p> + +<p>After there were two Ducklings, a third one came, and a fourth, and a +fifth, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> so on until, when the broken shells were cleared away and +the mother had counted bills, she could call to the Drake and her +sisters, "Nine Ducklings hatched, and there were only nine eggs in the +nest."</p> + +<p>"Then come to the brook," said the Drake, "and let the children have a +bath. I have been swimming a great many times to-day, and they have not +even set foot in water yet. Why, our eldest son was out of his shell +before the Horses were harnessed this morning, and here it is nearly +time for their supper."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help it," said the mother Duck. "I couldn't leave the nest +to take him swimming until the rest were ready to go. I am doing the +best I can."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to find fault," said the Drake, "and I suppose you +couldn't get away, but we know that Ducklings should be taught to bathe +often, and there is nothing like beginning in time."</p> + +<p>"I might have taken some of them to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> the brook," said one of the aunts. +The mother straightened her neck and held her head very high, while she +answered, "You? You are very kind, but what do you know about bringing +up Ducklings?"</p> + +<p>Now the aunt might have said, "I know just as much as you do," for it +was the young mother's first brood, yet she kept still. She thought, "I +may hatch Ducklings of my own some day, and then I suppose I shall want +to care for them myself."</p> + +<p>"Wait," said the Drake, as they reached the brook. "Let us wait and see +what the children will do." The words were hardly out of his bill +when—flutter—splash—splash!—there were nine yellow-white Ducklings +floating on the brook and murmuring happily to each other as though they +had never done anything else.</p> + +<p>The Dorking Cock stood on the bank. "Who taught them to swim?" said he.</p> + +<p>"Nobody," answered their mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> proudly. "They knew without being told. +That is the way a Duck takes to water." And she gave a dainty lurch and +was among her brood.</p> + +<p><a name="SWIM" id="SWIM"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img040.jpg" + alt="THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM" /><br /> + <b>THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM.</b> + </div> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed the Dorking Cock. "I thought the little Dorkings were +as bright as children could be, but they didn't know as much as that. I +must tell them." He stalked off, talking under his breath.</p> + +<p>"They know more than that," said the Drake. "Did you see how they ran +ahead of us when we stopped to talk? They knew where to find water as +soon as they were out of the shell. Still, the Cock might not have +believed that if I had told him."</p> + +<p>They had a good swim, and then all stood on the bank and dried +themselves. This they did by squeezing the water out of their down with +their bills. The Drake, the mother Duck, the five aunts, and the nine +Ducklings all stood as tall and straight as they could, and turned and +twisted their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> long necks, and flapped their wings, and squeezed their +down, and murmured to each other. And their father didn't tell the +little ones how, and their mother didn't tell them how, and their five +aunts didn't tell them how, but they knew without being told.</p> + +<p>The Ducklings grew fast, and made friends of all the farmyard people. +Early every morning they went to the brook. They learned to follow the +brook to the river, and here were wonderful things to be seen. There was +plenty to eat, too, in the soft mud under the water, and it was easy +enough to dive to it, or to reach down their long necks while only their +pointed tails and part of their body could be seen above the water. Not +that they ate the mud. They kept only the food that they found in it, +and then let the mud slip out between the rough edges of their bills. +They swam and ate all day, and slept all night, and were dutiful +Duck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>lings who minded their mother, so it was not strange that they were +plump and happy.</p> + +<p>At last there came a morning when the eldest Duckling could not go to +the brook with the others. A Weasel had bitten him in the night, and if +it had not been for his mother and the Drake, would have carried him +away. The rest had to go in swimming, and his lame leg would not let him +waddle as far as the brook, or swim after he got there.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to do," he said to his mother. "I can't swim and I +can't waddle far, and I've eaten so much already that I can't eat +anything more for a long, long time."</p> + +<p>"You might play with the little Shanghais," said his mother.</p> + +<p>"They run around too much," he replied. "I can't keep up with them."</p> + +<p>"Then why not lie near the corn crib and visit with the Mice?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, they don't like the things that I like, and it isn't any fun."</p> + +<p>"How would it suit you to watch the Peacock for a while?"</p> + +<p>"I'm tired of watching the Peacock."</p> + +<p>"Then," said the mother, "you must help somebody else. You are old +enough to think of such things now, and you must remember this wise +saying: 'When you don't know what to do, help somebody.'"</p> + +<p>"Whom can I help?" said the lame Duckling. "People can all do things for +themselves."</p> + +<p>"There is the Blind Horse," answered his mother. "He is alone to-day, +and I'm sure he would like somebody to visit him."</p> + +<p>"Quack!" said the Duckling. "I will go to see him." He waddled slowly +away, stopping now and then to rest, and shaking his little pointed tail +from side to side as Ducks do. The Blind Horse was grazing in the +pasture alone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've come to see you, sir," said the Duckling. "Shall I be in your +way?"</p> + +<p>The Blind Horse looked much pleased. "I think from your voice that you +must be one of the young Ducks," said he. "I shall be very glad to have +you visit me, only you must be careful to keep away from my feet, for I +can't see, and I might step on you."</p> + +<p>"I'll be careful," said the Duckling. "I can't waddle much anyway this +morning, because my leg hurts me so."</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm sorry you are lame," said the Horse. "What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"A Weasel bit me in the night, sir. But it doesn't hurt so much as it +did before I came to see you. Perhaps the pasture is a better place for +lame legs than the farmyard." He didn't know that it was because he was +trying to make somebody else happy that he felt so much better, yet that +was the reason.</p> + +<p>The Blind Horse and the Duckling be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>came very fond of each other and had +a fine time. The Horse told stories of his Colthood, and of the things +he had seen in his travels before he became blind. And the Duckling told +him what the other farmyard people were doing, and about the soft, +fleecy clouds that drifted across the blue sky. When the mother Duck +came to look for him, the little fellow was much surprised. "Didn't you +go to the brook?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said his mother, with a smile. "We have been there all the +morning. Don't you see how high the sun is?"</p> + +<p>"Why-ee!" said the Duckling. "I didn't think I had been here long at +all. We've been having the nicest time. And I'm coming again, am I not?" +He asked this question of the Blind Horse.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would come often," answered the Blind Horse. "You have given +me a very pleasant morning. Good-bye!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>The mother Duck and her son waddled off together. "How is your leg?" +said she.</p> + +<p>"I forgot all about it until I began to walk," answered the Duckling. +"Isn't that queer?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said his mother. "It was because you were making somebody +else happy. 'When you don't know what to do, help somebody.'"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img010.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE</h2> + + +<p>In a sheltered corner of the farmyard, where the hedge kept off the cold +winds and the trees shaded from hot summer sunshine, there were many +hives of Bees. One could not say much for the Drones, but the others +were the busiest of all the farmyard people, and they had so much to do +that they did not often stop to visit with their neighbors.</p> + +<p>In each hive, or home, there were many thousand Bees, and each had his +own work. First of all, there was the Queen. You might think that being +a Queen meant playing all the time, but that is not so, for to be a +really good Queen, even in a Beehive, one must know a great deal and +keep at work all the time. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> Queen Bee is the mother of all the Bee +Babies, and she spends her days in laying eggs. She is so very precious +and important a person that the first duty of the rest is to take care +of her.</p> + +<p>The Drones are the stoutest and finest-looking of all the Bees, but they +are lazy, very, very lazy. There are never many of them in a hive, and +like most lazy people, they spend much of their time in telling the +others how to work. They do not make wax or store honey, and as the +Worker Bees do not wish them to eat what has been put away for winter, +they do not live very long.</p> + +<p>Most of the Bees are Workers. They are smaller than either the Queen +Mother or the Drones, and they gather all the honey, make all the wax, +build the comb, and feed the babies. They keep the hive clean, and when +the weather is very warm, some of them fan the air with their wings to +cool it. They guard the doorway of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> the hive, too, and turn away the +robbers who sometimes come to steal their honey.</p> + +<p>In these busy homes, nobody can live long just for himself. Everybody +helps somebody else, and that makes life pleasant. The Queen Mother +often lays as many as two thousand eggs in a day. Most of these are +Worker eggs, and are laid in the small cells of the brood comb, which is +the nursery of the hive. A few are Drone eggs and are laid in large +cells. She never lays any Queen eggs, for she does not want more Queens +growing up. It is a law among the Bees that there can be only one grown +Queen living in each home.</p> + +<p>The Workers, however, know that something might happen to their old +Queen Mother, so, after she has gone away, they sometimes go into a cell +where she has laid a Worker egg, and take down the waxen walls between +it and the ones on either side to make a very large royal cell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> They +bite away the wax with their strong jaws and press the rough edges into +shape with their feet. When this egg hatches, they do not feed the baby, +or Larva, with tasteless bread made of flower-dust, honey, and water, as +they would if they intended it to grow up a Worker or a Drone. Instead, +they make what is called royal jelly, which is quite sour, and tuck this +all around the Larva, who now looks like a little white worm.</p> + +<p>The royal jelly makes her grow fast, and in five days she is so large as +to nearly fill the cell. Then she stops eating, spins a cocoon, and lies +in it for about two and a half days more. When she comes out of this, +she is called a Pupa. Sixteen days after the laying of the egg, the +young Queen is ready to come out of her cell. It takes twenty-one days +for a Worker to become fully grown and twenty-five for a Drone.</p> + +<p>In the hive by the cedar tree, the Queen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> Mother was growing restless +and fussy. She knew that the Workers were raising some young Queens, and +she tried to get to the royal cells. She knew that if she could only do +that, the young Queens would never live to come out. The Workers knew +this, too, and whenever she came near there, they made her go away.</p> + +<p>The Queen Larvæ and Pupæ were of different ages, and one of them was now +ready to leave her cell. They could hear her crying to be let out, but +they knew that if she and the Queen Mother should meet now, one of them +would die. So instead of letting her out, they built a thick wall of wax +over the door and left only an opening through which they could feed +her. When she was hungry she ran her tongue out and they put honey on +it.</p> + +<p>She wondered why the Workers did not let her out, when she wanted so +much to be free. She did not yet know that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> Queen Mothers do not get +along well with young Queens.</p> + +<p>The Workers talked it over by themselves. One of them was very +tender-hearted. "It does seem too bad," said she, "to keep the poor +young Queen shut up in her cell. I don't see how you can stand it to +hear her piping so pitifully all the time. I am sure she must be +beautiful. I never saw a finer tongue than the one she runs out for +honey."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said a sensible old Worker, who had seen many Queens hatched +and many swarms fly away, "you'd be a good deal more sorry if we did let +her out now. It would not do at all."</p> + +<p>The tender-hearted Worker did not answer this, but she talked it over +with the Drones. "I declare," said she, wiping her eyes with her +forefeet, "I can hardly gather a mouthful of honey for thinking of her."</p> + +<p>"Suppose you hang yourself up and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> make wax then," said one Drone. "It +is a rather sunshiny day, but you ought to be doing something, and if +you cannot gather honey you might do that." This was just like a Drone. +He never gathered honey or made wax, yet he could not bear to see a +Worker lose any time.</p> + +<p>The Worker did not hang herself up and make wax, however. She never did +that except on cloudy days, and she was one of those Bees who seem to +think that nothing will come out right unless they stop working to see +about it. There was plenty waiting to be done, but she was too sad and +anxious to do it. She might have known that since her friends were only +minding the law, it was right to keep the new Queen in her cell.</p> + +<p>The Queen Mother was restless and fussy. She could not think of her +work, and half the time she did not know whether she was laying a Drone +egg or a Worker egg. In spite of that, she did not make<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> any mistake, or +put one into the wrong kind of cell. "I cannot stay here with a young +Queen," said she. "I will not stay here. I will take my friends with me +and fly away."</p> + +<p>Whenever she met a Worker, she struck her feelers on those of her +friend, and then this friend knew exactly how she felt about it. In this +way the news was passed around, and soon many of the Workers were as +restless as their Queen Mother. They were so excited over it at times +that the air of the hive grew very hot. After a while they would become +quiet and gather honey once more. They whispered often to each other. +"Do you know where we are going?" one said.</p> + +<p>"Sh!" was the answer. "The guides are looking for a good place now."</p> + +<p>"I wish the Queen Mother knew where we are going," said the first.</p> + +<p>"How could she?" replied the second. "You know very well that she has +not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> left the hive since she began to lay eggs. Here she comes now."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" exclaimed the Queen Mother. "I can never stand this. I +certainly cannot. To think I am not allowed to rule in my own hive! The +Workers who are guarding the royal cells drive me away whenever I go +near them. I will not stay any longer."</p> + +<p>"Then," said a Drone, as though he had thought of it for the first time, +"why don't you go away?"</p> + +<p>"I shall," said she. "Will you go with me?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the Drone. "I hate moving and furnishing a new house. +Besides, somebody must stay here to take care of the Workers and the +young Queen."</p> + +<p>The Queen Mother walked away. "When we were both young," she said to +herself, "he would have gone anywhere with me."</p> + +<p>And the Drone said to himself, "Now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> isn't that just like a Queen +Mother! She has known all the time that there would be young Queens +coming on, and that she would have to leave, yet here she is, making the +biggest kind of fuss about it. She ought to remember that it is the +law."</p> + +<p>Indeed she should have remembered that it was the law, for everything is +done by law in the hive, and no one person should find fault. The law +looks after them all, and will not let any one have more than his +rightful share.</p> + +<p>That same afternoon there was a sudden quiet in their home. The Workers +who had been outside returned and visited with the rest. While they were +waiting, a few who were to be their guides came to the door of the hive, +struck their wings together, and gave the signal for starting. Then all +who were going with the Queen Mother hurried out of the door and flew +with her in circles overhead. "Good-bye!" they called. "Raise all the +young Queens<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> you wish. We shall never come back. We are going far, far +away, and we shall not tell you where. It is a lovely place, a very +lovely place."</p> + +<p>"Let them go," said the Drones who stayed behind. "Now, isn't it time to +let out the young Queen?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," answered a Worker, who stood near the door. "Not one feeler +shall she put outside her cell until that swarm is out of sight."</p> + +<p>The tender-hearted Worker came up wiping her eyes. "Oh, that poor Queen +Mother!" said she. "I am so sorry for her. I positively cannot gather +honey to-day, I feel so badly about her going."</p> + +<p>"Better keep on working," said her friend. "It's the best thing in the +world for that sad feeling. Besides, you should try to keep strong."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will try to eat something from the comb," was the answer, "but I +don't feel like working."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Zzzt!" said the other Worker. "I think if you can eat, you can hunt +your food outside, and not take honey we have laid up for winter or food +that will be needed for the children."</p> + +<p>The Drones chuckled. It was all right for them to be lazy, they thought, +but they never could bear to see a Worker waste time. "Ah," cried one of +them suddenly, "what is the new swarm doing now?"</p> + +<p>The words were hardly out of his mouth when the Queen Mother crawled +into the hive again. "Such dreadful luck!" said she. "A cloud passed +over the sun just as we were alighting on a tree to rest."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have come back for that," said a Drone.</p> + +<p>"No," said she, in her airiest way, "I dare say you wouldn't, but I +would. I dare not go to a new home after a cloud has passed over the +sun. I think it is a sign of bad luck. I should never expect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> a single +egg to hatch if I went on. We shall try it again to-morrow."</p> + +<p>All the others came back with her, and the hive was once more crowded +and hot. "Oh dear!" said the tender-hearted Worker, "isn't it too bad to +think they couldn't go?"</p> + +<p>The next morning they started again and were quite as excited over it as +before. The Queen Mother had fussed and fidgeted all the time, although +she had laid nine hundred and seventy-three eggs while waiting, and that +in spite of interruptions. "Being busy keeps me from thinking," said +she, "and I must do something." This time the Queen Mother lighted on an +apple-tree branch, and the others clung to her until all who had left +the hive were in a great mass on the branch,—a mass as large as a small +cabbage. They meant to rest a little while and then fly away to the new +home chosen by their guides.</p> + +<p>While they were hanging here, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> farmer came under the tree, carrying +a long pole with a wire basket fastened to the upper end. He shook the +clustered Bees gently into it, and then changed them into an empty hive +that stood beside their old home.</p> + +<p>"Now," said the Workers who had stayed in the old hive, "we will let out +the new Queen, for the Queen Mother will never return."</p> + +<p>It did not take long to bite away the waxen wall and let her out. Then +they gathered around and caressed her, and touched their feelers to her +and waited upon her, and explained why they could not let her out +sooner. She was still a soft gray color, like all young Bees when they +first come from the cell, but this soon changed to the black worn by her +people.</p> + +<p>The Workers flew in and out, and brought news from the hive next door. +They could not go there, for the law does not allow a Bee who lives in +one home to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> visit in another, but they met their old friends in the air +or when they were sipping honey. They found that the Queen Mother had +quite given up the idea of living elsewhere and was as busy as ever. The +farmer had put a piece of comb into the new hive so that she could begin +housekeeping at once.</p> + +<p>The new Queen was petted and kept at home until she was strong and used +to moving about. That was not long. Then she said she wanted to see the +world outside. "We will go with you," said the Drones, who were always +glad of an excuse for flying away in pleasant weather. They said there +was so much noise and hurrying around in the hive that they could never +get any real rest there during the daytime.</p> + +<p>So the young Queen flew far away and saw the beautiful world for the +first time. Such a blue sky! Such green grass! Such fine trees covered +with sweet-smell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>ing blossoms! She loved it all as soon as she saw it. +"Ah," she cried, "what a wonderful thing it is to live and see all this! +I am so glad that I was hatched. But now I must hurry home, for there is +so much to be done."</p> + +<p>She was a fine young Queen, and the Bees were all proud of her. They let +her do anything she wished as long as she kept away from the royal +cells. She soon began to work as the old Queen Mother had done, and was +very happy in her own way. She would have liked to open the royal cells +and prevent more Queens from hatching, and when they told her it was the +law which made them keep her away, she still wanted to bite into them.</p> + +<p>"That poor young Queen Mother!" sighed the tender-hearted Worker. "I am +so sorry for her when she is kept away from the royal cells. This is a +sad, sad world!" But this isn't a sad world by any means. It is a +beautiful, sunshiny,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> happy world, and neither Queen Bees nor anybody +else should think it hard if they cannot do every single thing they +wish. The law looks after great and small, and there is no use in +pouting because we cannot do one certain thing, when there is any amount +of delightful work and play awaiting us. And the young Queen Mother knew +this.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img056.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND</h2> + + +<p>The span of Bays were talking together in their stalls, and the other +Horses were listening. That was one trouble with living in the barn, you +could not say anything to your next-door neighbor without somebody else +hearing. The farmer had solid walls between the stalls, with openings so +far back that no Horse could get his head to them without breaking his +halter. This had been done to keep them from biting each other, and as +nobody but the Dappled Gray ever thought of doing such a thing, it was +rather hard on the rest. It made it difficult for the mothers to bring +up their children properly, for after a Colt was old enough to have a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +stall to himself, his mother had to call out her advice and warnings so +loudly that everybody could hear, and you know it is not well to reprove +a child before company if it can be helped. Indeed, it was this very +question that was troubling the span of Bays now. Each of them had a +two-year-old Colt, and they knew that it was nearly time for the farmer +to put these Colts to work. The span of Bays were sisters, so of course +their children were cousins, and they were all very fond of each other +and of the Blind Horse, who was the uncle of the Bays and the +great-uncle of the Bay Colt and the Gray Colt.</p> + +<p>"I am worried about the Bay Colt," said his mother. "Since he was +brought into the barn last fall and had a stall away from me, he has +gotten into bad ways. I have told him again and again that he must not +nibble the edge of the manger, yet the first thing I heard this morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +was the grating of his teeth on the wood."</p> + +<p>"Well," said his aunt, "you know he is teething, and that may be the +reason."</p> + +<p>"That is no excuse," said his mother sternly. "He has been teething ever +since he was five days old, and he will not cut his last tooth for three +years yet. I don't call it goodness to keep from cribbing when you don't +want to crib, and the time to stop is now. Besides, if he waits until he +has all his teeth, he won't be able to break himself of the habit when +he does try."</p> + +<p>"That is so," said his aunt, "and he will ruin his teeth, too."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" exclaimed the Bay Colt, who had heard what they were saying. "I +can stop whenever I want to, and they're my own teeth, anyway. It isn't +anybody else's business if I do ruin them."</p> + +<p>"There!" said his mother to his aunt, "you see what I mean. That is just +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> way he talks all the time. Now what would you do?"</p> + +<p>"Let him alone," snorted the Dappled Gray. "Let him alone, and he will +get some Horse sense after he has been broken. He'll have a hard time of +it, but he'll come out all right."</p> + +<p>The Bay Colt kicked against the side of the stall, he was so vexed. +"I'll thank you to let me alone," said he. "I don't see why everybody +tells me what I ought to do. Guess I know a thing or two."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you why," said the Dappled Gray, in a voice that sounded as +though he were trying very hard not to lose his temper. "It is because +you are young and we like you, and we can save you trouble if you mind +what we tell you. I had lost the black pits in my front teeth before you +were born, and when a Horse has lived long enough to lose the black pits +from his front teeth, he knows a good deal. You don't know a curb-bit +from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> a snaffle now, but you will learn many things when you are +broken—a very great many things."</p> + +<p>The Bay Colt tossed his head and did not answer. When he was led out to +drink, the Dappled Gray spoke quickly to his friends. "We will let him +alone," said he, "as he wishes. We will not advise him until he asks us +to do so." They were all whinnying "Yes" when the Bay Colt came back. +Then it became so still that you could have heard a stem of hay drop.</p> + +<p>For a few days after this, the Bay Colt had a very good time. Nobody +gave him any advice, and even when he gnawed at the edge of the manger, +his mother did not seem to notice it. After he found that she didn't say +anything, he didn't gnaw, or crib, so much. He was such a foolish and +contrary young fellow that when people told him not to do a thing, he +always wanted to do that thing worse than any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>thing else in the world. +His cousin, the Gray Colt, was not at all like him. She was a gentle +little two-year-old whom everybody loved. She was full of fun and was +the gayest possible companion in the meadow, yet when the older Horses +gave her advice, she always listened and obeyed.</p> + +<p>The Bay Colt was very fond of his cousin, but he did like to tease her, +and once in the fall, before they came to stay in the barn, he called +her a "goody-goody" because she wouldn't jump the fence and run away +with him. He said she wouldn't do such things because she didn't know +what fun was. Then she did show that she had a temper, for her brown +eyes snapped and her soft lips were raised until she showed all her +biting teeth. "I'm not a 'goody-goody,'" she cried, stamping the ground +with her pretty little hoofs, "and I just ache to go. I feel as though +there were ropes that I couldn't see, pull<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>ing me toward that fence +every time I think of it, but I won't go! I won't go! My mother says +that she jumped a fence and ran away when she was a Colt, and that she +felt as mean as could be afterward."</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said her cousin, "I'm going anyway, and you can stay at +home if you want to. Good-bye!" He ran and leaped over the fence, and +trotted down the road with his head well up and his tail in the air. And +then how the Gray Colt did want to follow! "I won't!" she said again. "I +won't do it. I'll look the other way and try to forget it, but I wish he +knew how hard it is to be good sometimes."</p> + +<p>The next morning the Bay Colt was in the pasture again. The farmer and +his man had found him far away and led him back. "I had a fine time," he +said to his cousin, "and I don't feel a bit mean. I'm going again +to-day, but don't you tell."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> When his mother scolded him as he +deserved, he just switched his tail and thought about something else +until she stopped talking. Then he ran away again.</p> + +<p>The next morning when the Gray Colt saw him, he had a queer wooden thing +around his neck, and fastened to this was a pole that stuck out ahead of +him. It tired his neck and bothered him when he wanted to run. If he had +tried to jump the fence, it would have thrown him down. When the Gray +Colt came toward him, he pretended not to see her. He might just as well +have looked squarely at her as soon as she came, because, you know, he +had to look at her sometime, but he had a mean, slinking, afraid +feeling, such as people always have when they have done something wrong +and have had time to think about it. Besides, he had changed his mind +since the wooden poke had been put on him, and somehow his running<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> away +seemed very foolish now. He wondered how he could ever have thought it +any fun, and he was so disgusted that he couldn't keep his ears still, +but moved them restlessly when he remembered his own silliness.</p> + +<p>The Gray Colt was too polite to say anything about his wearing the poke, +and she talked about the grass, the sky, the trees, and everything else +she could think of. Once she was about to speak of the fence, and then +she remembered and stopped short. The Bay Colt noticed this. "You might +just as well go on," said he. "You are very kind, but I know how foolish +I have been, and there's no use in keeping still. You were right, and it +doesn't pay to jump fences for a few minutes of what you think will be +fun. I feel sick all over when I think about it."</p> + +<p>"It's too bad," whinnied the Gray Colt. "I'm very sorry for you."</p> + +<p>"And what do you think?" said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> Bay Colt. "I heard the Dappled Gray +say this morning that I was like a Pig! Imagine a Colt being like a Pig! +He said that it didn't make any difference on which side of a fence Pigs +were, they always wanted to be on the other side, and that I was just as +stupid."</p> + +<p>This was all in the fall, before the cold weather had sent them to live +in the barn, and while the Bay Colt was wearing the poke he could not +well forget the lesson he had learned about jumping and running away. +His mother grew quite proud of him, and the Dappled Gray had been heard +to say that he might amount to something yet. That was a great deal for +the Dappled Gray to say, for although he had a very kind heart, he did +not often praise people, and hardly ever said such things about +two-year-olds. That made it all the harder for him when the Bay Colt +became cross over being told to stop cribbing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>You know there are some Colts who learn obedience easily, and there are +others who have one hard struggle to stop jumping, and another to stop +cribbing, and another to stop kicking, and so on, all through their +Colthood. The older Horses are sorry for them and try to help them, for +they know that neither Colt nor Horse can really enjoy life until he is +trying to do right. To be sure, people sometimes do wrong even then, but +if they will take advice and keep on trying they are certain to turn out +well.</p> + +<p>And now, when the Bay Colt seemed to have forgotten the lesson he had in +the fall, and after he had told the other Horses to let him alone, very +strange things began to happen. The farmer took him from his stall and +made him open his mouth. Then a piece of iron was slipped into it, which +lay on top of his tongue and fitted into the place on each side of his +jaw where there were no teeth. Long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> lines were fastened to this iron on +either side, and when he tossed his head and sidled around, these lines +were gently pulled by the farmer and the iron bit pressed down his +tongue.</p> + +<p>The farmer was very kind, but the Bay Colt did not want the bit in his +mouth, so he acted as ugly as he knew how, and kicked, and snapped with +his jaws open, and tried to run. The farmer did not grow angry or cross, +yet whenever the Bay Colt showed his temper, the bit would press down +his tongue and stretch the corners of his mouth until he had to stop. +Once in a while the farmer would try to pat him and show him that it was +all right, but the Bay Colt would not have this, and he was a very cross +and sweaty two-year-old when he was taken back to his stall.</p> + +<p>He missed the Gray Colt from her usual place, but soon she came in with +one of the farmer's men. She had been driven for the first time also.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hallo!" said he. "Have you had a bit in your mouth too? Wasn't it +dreadful? I am so angry that my hoofs fairly tingle to hit that farmer."</p> + +<p>"It was hard," said the Gray Colt, "but the man who drove me was very +kind and let me rest often. He patted me, too, and that helped me to be +brave. My mother says we won't mind the bit at all after we are used to +it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Bay Colt, "I'm never going to be used to it. I won't +stand it, and that's all there is about it." He stamped his hoofs and +looked very important. Two-year-olds often look quite as important as +ten-year-olds, and they feel much more so. The Bay Colt was rather proud +of his feet, and thought it much nicer to have solid hoofs than to have +them split, like those of the Cows, the Hogs, and the Sheep.</p> + +<p><a name="JERKING" id="JERKING"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img077.jpg" + alt="HAD A SORE MOUTH" /><br /> + <b>HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES. +</b> + </div> + +<p>When he said that he would not stand it to be driven, a queer little +sound ran <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>through the stalls. It was like the wind passing over a +wheatfield, and was caused by the older Horses taking a long breath and +whispering to themselves. The Bay Colt's mother was saying, "Poor child! +What hard work he does make of life!"</p> + +<p>The next day both Colts were driven again, and the next day, and the +next, and the next. By this time the Gray Colt was quite used to it. She +said she rather enjoyed knowing what the man was thinking, and that she +could tell his thoughts by the feeling of the lines, much as she used to +understand her mother by rubbing noses when she was a tiny Colt. Her +cousin had a sore mouth from jerking on the lines, and he could not +enjoy eating at all. That made it even harder for him, because he got +very hungry, and it is not so easy to be sensible when one is hungry.</p> + +<p>When the Gray Colt learned to walk steadily and turn as her driver +wished,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> she was allowed to draw a light log through the furrows of a +field. This tired her, but it made her very proud, and she arched her +neck and took the daintiest of steps. It was not necessary that the log +should be drawn over the field; still, she did not know this, and +thought it was real work, when it was done only to teach her to pull. +The man who was driving her patted her neck and held her nose in his +hand. When he stopped to eat an apple, he gave her the core, and she +thought she had never tasted anything so good. As she went back to her +stall, she called to the Horses near, "I have been working. I have drawn +a log all around a field."</p> + +<p>The Blind Horse spoke softly to her. "You will have a happy life, my +dear, because you are a willing worker."</p> + +<p>Although the Bay Colt didn't say anything, he thought a great deal, and +about many things. While he was thinking he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> began to crib, but the +noise of his biting teeth on the wood startled him, and he shook his +head and whispered to himself, "I will never crib again." When he ate +his supper, his sore mouth hurt him, but he didn't whimper. "You deserve +it," he said to himself. "It wouldn't have been sore if you had been +steady like your cousin." The Bay Colt was growing sensible very fast.</p> + +<p>The Dappled Gray had noticed how suddenly he stopped cribbing, and so +watched him for a few days. He saw that the Bay Colt was in earnest, +that he drew the log up and down without making any fuss, and was soon +hitched with his mother to a plow. The Dappled Gray and the Blind Horse +were also plowing that day, and they called across from their field. +"Fine day for plowing," they said.</p> + +<p>"Perfect," answered the Bay Colt. "Did you notice the last furrow we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +turned? Can you do any better than that? If I had jumped, it would have +been crooked instead of straight; and if I had stopped, it would not be +done yet."</p> + +<p>"Good furrow! Wonderful furrow!" answered the Dappled Gray. "Always knew +you'd be a good worker when you got down to it. You are one of us now, +one of the working Horses. Glad of it. Good-bye!" And he turned away to +start his plow across the field again.</p> + +<p>"Do you like being grown up?" said the Bay Colt's mother to him.</p> + +<p>"Like it?" he answered with a laugh. "I'm so proud that I don't know +what to do. I wouldn't go back to the old life of all play for anything +in the world. And my little cousin made me see my mistakes. Was there +ever another Colt as foolish as I?"</p> + +<p>"A great many of them," said his mother. "More than you would guess. +They kick and bite and try to run be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>cause they cannot always have their +own way; and then, when they have tried the farmer's way, and begin to +pay for his care of them, they find it very much better than the life of +all play. Colts will be Colts."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img073.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE TWIN LAMBS</h2> + + + +<p>There was a Lamb, a bright, frisky young fellow, who had a twin sister. +Their mother loved them both and was as kind to one as to the other, but +the brother wanted to have the best of everything, and sometimes he even +bunted his sister with his hard little forehead. His mother had to speak +to him many times about this, for he was one of those trying children +who will not mind when first spoken to.</p> + +<p>He did not really mean to be naughty—he was only strong and frisky and +thoughtless. Sometimes he was even rude to his mother. She felt very sad +when this was so, yet she loved him dearly and found many excuses for +him in her own heart.</p> + +<p>There were three other pairs of twins<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> in the flock that year, and as +their mothers were not strong enough to care for two Lambs apiece, the +farmer had taken one twin from each pair to a little pen near the house. +Here they stayed, playing happily together, and drinking milk from a +bottle which the farmer's wife brought to them. They were hungry very +often, like all young children, and when their stomachs began to feel +empty, or even to feel as if they might feel empty, they crowded against +the side of the pen, pushed their pinkish-white noses through the +openings between the boards, and bleated and bleated and bleated to the +farmer's wife.</p> + +<p>Soon she would come from the kitchen door and in her hand would bring +the big bottle full of milk for them. There was a soft rubber top to +this bottle, through which the Lambs could draw the milk into their +mouths. Of course they all wanted to drink at once, though there was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +only a chance for one, and the others always became impatient while they +were waiting. The farmer's wife was patient, even when the Lambs, in +their hurry to get the milk, took her fingers into their mouths and bit +them instead of the top of the bottle.</p> + +<p>Our twin Lamb wanted to have his sister taken into the pen with the +other three, and he spoke about it to his mother. "I know how you can +manage," said he. "Whenever she comes near you, just walk away from her, +and then the farmer will take her up to the pen."</p> + +<p>"You selfish fellow!" answered his mother. "Do you want your dear little +twin sister to leave us?"</p> + +<p>He hung his head for a minute, but replied, "She'd have just as good a +time. They have all they can eat up there, and they have lots of fun."</p> + +<p><a name="FEEDING" id="FEEDING"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img084.jpg" + alt="FEEDING THE LAMBS" /><br /> + <b>FEEDING THE LAMBS.</b> + </div> + + +<p>"If you think it is so pleasant in the pen," said his mother, "suppose I +begin <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>to walk away from you, and let the farmer take you away. I think +your sister would rather stay with me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" cried her son. "I don't want to leave my own dear woolly +mother! I want to cuddle up to you every night and have you tell me +stories about the stars."</p> + +<p>"Do you think you love me very much?" said she. "You don't know how to +really love yet, for you are selfish, and there is not room in a selfish +heart for the best kind of love."</p> + +<p>That made the Lamb feel very badly. "I do love her dearly," he cried, as +he stood alone. "I believe I love her ever so much more than my sister +does."</p> + +<p>That was where the little fellow was mistaken, for although his sister +did not talk so much about it, she showed her love in many other ways. +If she had been taken from her mother for even a few days, they could +never again have had such sweet and happy days together. Sheep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> look +much alike, and they cannot remember each other's faces very long. If a +Lamb is taken away from his mother for even a short time, they do not +know each other when they meet afterward. Perhaps this is one reason why +they keep together so much, for it would be sad indeed not to know one's +mother or one's child.</p> + +<p>His sister never knew that he had wanted her taken away. She thought he +acted queerly sometimes, but she was so loving and unselfish herself +that she did not dream of his selfishness. Instead of putting the idea +out of his woolly little head, as he could have done by thinking more of +other things, the brother let himself think of it more and more. That +made him impatient with even his mother, and he often answered her quite +crossly. Sometimes, when she spoke to him, he did not answer at all, and +that was just as bad.</p> + +<p>His mother would sigh and say to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>self, "My child is not a comfort to +me after all, yet when I looked for the first time into his dear little +face, I thought that as long as I had him beside me I should always be +happy."</p> + +<p>One night, when the weather was fair and warm, the farmer drove all the +Sheep and Lambs into the Sheep-shed. They had been lying out under the +beautiful blue sky at night, and they did not like this nearly so well. +They did not understand it either, so they were frightened and +bewildered, and bleated often to each other, "What is this for? What is +this for?"</p> + +<p>The Lambs did not mind it so much, for they were not warmly dressed, but +the Sheep, whose wool had been growing for a year and was long and +heavy, found it very close and uncomfortable. They did not know that the +farmer had a reason for keeping them dry that night while the heavy dew +was falling outside. The same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> thing was done every year, but they could +not remember so long as that, and having a poor memory is always hard.</p> + +<p>"Stay close to me, children," said the mother of the twins. "I may +forget how you look if you are away long."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," said the brother, "that we always have to stay close +to you. I never have a bit of fun!"</p> + +<p>When they had cuddled down for the night, the twin Lambs slept soundly. +Their mother lay awake for a long, long time in the dark, and she was +not happy. A few careless words from a selfish little Lamb had made her +heart ache. They were not true words either, for during the daytime her +children ran with their playmates and had fine frolics. Still, we know +that when people are out of patience they often say things that are not +really so.</p> + +<p>In the morning, men came into the barn, which opened off the +Sheep-shed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> They had on coarse, old clothing, and carried queer-looking +shears in their hands. The Sheep could see them now and then when the +door was open. Once the farmer stood in the doorway and seemed to be +counting them. This made them huddle together more closely than ever. +They could see the men carrying clean yellow straw into the barn and +spreading it on the floor. On top of this was stretched a great sheet of +clean cloth.</p> + +<p>Then the men began to come into the shed and catch the Sheep and carry +them into the barn. They were frightened and bleated a good deal, but +when one was caught and carried away, although he might struggle hard to +free himself, he did not open his mouth. The old Wether Sheep was the +first to be taken, and then the young ones who had been Lambs the year +before. For a long time not one of the mothers was chosen. Still, nobody +knew what would happen next, and so, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> fewer Sheep there were left, +the more closely they huddled together.</p> + +<p>At last, when the young Sheep had all been taken, one of the men caught +the mother of the twins and carried her away. She turned her face toward +her children, but the door swung shut after her, and they were left with +the other Lambs and their mothers. From the barn came the sound of +snip-snip-snipping and the murmur of men's voices. Once the twins +thought they saw their mother lying on the floor and a man kneeling +beside her, holding her head and forelegs under his arm, yet they were +not sure of this.</p> + +<p>The brother ran to the corner of the shed and put his head against the +boards. He suddenly felt very young and helpless. "My dear woolly +mother!" he said to himself, over and over, and he wondered if he would +ever see her again. He remembered what he had said to her the night +before. It seemed to him that he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> could even now hear his own voice +saying crossly, "Seems to me we always have to stay close to you. I +never have a bit of fun!" He wished he had not said it. He knew she was +a dear mother, and he would have given anything in the world for a +chance to stay close to her again.</p> + +<p>His sister felt as lonely and frightened as he, but she did not act in +the same way. She stood close to a younger Lamb whose mother had just +been taken away, and tried to comfort her. One by one the mothers were +taken until only the Lambs remained. They were very hungry now, and +bleated pitifully. Still the twin brother stood with his head in the +corner. He had closed his eyes, but now he opened them, and through a +crack in the wall of the shed, he saw some very slender and +white-looking Sheep turned into the meadow. At first they acted dizzy, +and staggered instead of walking straight; then they stopped staggering +and began to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> frisk. "Can it be?" said he. "It surely is!" For, although +he had never in his short life seen a newly shorn Sheep, he began to +understand what had happened.</p> + +<p>He knew that the men had only been clipping the long wool from the +Sheep, and that they were now ready for warm weather. No wonder they +frisked when their heavy burdens of wool were carefully taken off.</p> + +<p>Now the farmer opened the door into the barn again, and let the Lambs +walk through it to the gate of the meadow. They had never before been +inside this barn, and the twin brother looked quickly around as he +scampered across the floor. He saw some great ragged bundles of wool, +and a man was just rolling up the last fleece. He wondered if that had +been taken from his mother and was the very one against which he had +cuddled when he was cold or frightened.</p> + +<p>When they first reached the pasture,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> the Lambs could not tell which +were their mothers. Shearing off their long and dingy fleeces had made +such a difference in their looks! The twin brother knew his mother by +her way of walking and by her voice, but he could see that his sister +did not know her at all. He saw his mother wandering around as though +she did not know where to find her children, and a naughty plan came +into his head. If he could keep his sister from finding their mother for +even a short time, he knew that the farmer would take her up to the pen. +He thought he knew just how to do it, and he started to run to her. Then +he stopped and remembered how sad and lonely he had been without his +mother only a little while before, and he began to pity the Lambs in the +pen.</p> + +<p>Now his selfishness and his goodness were fighting hard in him. One +said, "Send your sister away," and the other, "Take her to your mother." +At last he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> ran as fast as he could toward his sister. "I am good now," +he said to himself, "but it may not last long. I will tell her before I +am naughty again."</p> + +<p>"Oh sister!" cried he. "Come with me to our mother. She doesn't know +where to find us."</p> + +<p>He saw a happy look on his sister's sad little face, and he was glad +that he had done the right thing. They skipped away together, kicking up +their heels as they went, and it seemed to the brother that he had never +been so happy in his life. He was soon to be happier, though, for when +they reached his "new, white mother," as he called her, and his sister +told her how he had shown her the way, his mother said, "Now you are a +comfort to me. You will be a happier Lamb, too, for you know that a +mother's heart is large enough for all her children, and that the more +one loves, the better he loves."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, of course," said the twin sister. "What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>But the mother never told her, and the brother never told her, and it is +hoped that you will keep the secret.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img092.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE</h2> + + +<p>The Mice who lived in the barn and around the granaries had many cousins +living on the farm who were pleasant people to know. Any one could tell +by looking at them that they were related, yet there were differences in +size, in the coloring of their fur, in their voices, and most of all in +their ways of living. Some of these cousins would come to visit at the +barn in winter, when there was little to eat in the fields. The Meadow +Mice never did this. They were friendly with the people who came from +the farmyard to graze in the meadow, yet when they were asked to return +the call, they said, "No, thank you. We are an out-of-door<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> family, and +we never enter houses. We do not often go to the farmyard, but we are +always glad to see you here. Come again."</p> + +<p>When the Cows are in the meadow, they watch for these tiny people, and +stop short if they hear their voices from the grass near by. Of course +the Horses are careful, for Horses will never step on any person, large +or small, if they can help it. They are very particular about this.</p> + +<p>All through the meadow you can see, if you look sharply, shallow winding +paths among the grasses, and these paths are worn by the running to and +fro of the Meadow Mice. Their homes are in stumps of trees or in the +higher ground near the ditches. In these homes the baby Meadow Mice stay +until they are large enough to go out into the great world and eat +roots, grasses, and seeds with their fathers and mothers. Sometimes they +do go out a little way with their mother before this,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> and they go in a +very funny fashion. Of course, when they are babies, they drink warm +milk from her body as the children of most four-legged people do. +Sometimes a young Meadow Mouse does not want to stop drinking his milk +when it is time for his mother to leave the nest, so he just hangs on to +her with his tiny, toothless mouth, and when she goes she drags him +along on the ground beside her. The ground is rather rough for such soft +little babies, and they do not go far in this way, but are glad enough +to snuggle down again with their brothers and sisters.</p> + +<p>There is no danger of their being lonely, even when their mother is +away, for the Meadow Mice have large families, and where there are ten +babies of the same age, or even only six, which is thought a small +family among their people, it is not possible for one to feel alone.</p> + +<p>There were two fine Meadow Mice who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> built their nest in the bank of a +ditch and were much liked by all their relatives. They had raised many +children to full-grown Mousehood, and were kind and wise parents. When +their children were married and had homes of their own, they still liked +to come back to visit. The father and mother were gentle and kindly, as +all Mice are, and were almost as handsome as when they first began to +gnaw. Nobody could say that he ever saw a bit of dust on either of them.</p> + +<p>The brown fur of the upper part of their bodies and the grayish-white +fur underneath always lay sleek and tidy, and from their long whiskers +to the tips of their hairless tails, they were as dainty as possible. +That was one reason why they were so fine-looking, for you know it makes +no difference how beautiful one may be in the first place, if he does +not try to keep clean he is not pleasant to look at, while many quite +plain people are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> charming because they look well and happy and clean.</p> + +<p>Now this pair of Mice had eight Mouse babies in their nest. The babies +were no larger than Bumble Bees at first and very pink. This was not +because their fur was pink, but only because it was so very short that +through it and their thin skin one saw the glow of the red blood in +their veins.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see such beautiful babies?" said their mother proudly to +her neighbors. "They are certainly the finest I ever had." Her friends +smiled, for she always said the same thing whenever she had little ones. +Yet they understood, for they had children of their own, and knew that +although mothers love all alike, there is always a time when the +youngest seems the most promising. That is before they are old enough to +be naughty.</p> + +<p>The days passed, and the eight baby Meadow Mice ate and slept and pushed +each other around, and talked in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> sweet, squeaky little voices. +They were less pink every day and more the color of their father and +mother. They grew, too, so fast that the nest was hardly large enough +for them, and the teeth were showing in their tiny pink mouths. Their +mother saw that they would soon be ready to go out into the world, and +she began to teach them the things they needed to know. She took them +outside the nest each pleasant day and gave them lessons in running and +gnawing, and showed them how to crouch down on the brown earth and lie +still until danger was past. After she had told them many things, she +would ask them short questions to make sure that they remembered.</p> + +<p>"How many great dangers are there?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Five," answered the little Mice.</p> + +<p>"What are they?"</p> + +<p>"Hawks, Owls, Weasels, Cats, and men."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell me about Hawks."</p> + +<p>"Hawks are big birds who seem to float in the air. They have very sharp +eyes, and when they see a Mouse they drop suddenly down and catch him. +They fly in the daytime."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about Owls."</p> + +<p>"They are big birds who fly by night without making any noise. They can +see from far away, and they catch Mice."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about Weasels."</p> + +<p>"They are slender little animals, nearly twice as long as a Mouse. They +have small heads, four short legs, and sharp claws; have brown fur on +their backs and white underneath, and sometimes, when the weather is +very cold, they turn white all over."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about Cats."</p> + +<p>"Cats are very much bigger than Weasels, and are of many colors. They +have long tails and whiskers, and dreadful great eyes. They walk on four +legs, but make<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> no noise because they have cushions on their feet."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about men."</p> + +<p>"Men are very big, two-legged people, and when they are fully grown are +taller than Cows. They make noise in walking, and they can neither smell +nor see us from afar."</p> + +<p>"And what are you to do when you see these dangers coming?"</p> + +<p>"We are to run away as fast as we can from Hawks, Weasels, Owls, and +Cats. If a man comes near us, we are to lie perfectly still and watch +him, and are not to move unless we are sure that he sees us or is likely +to step on us. Men do not know so much about Mice as the other dangers +do."</p> + +<p>"And what if you are not sure that some creature is a Hawk, an Owl, a +Weasel, or a Cat?"</p> + +<p>"If we even think it may be, we are to run."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When are you to run?"</p> + +<p>"At once."</p> + +<p>"Say that again."</p> + +<p>"We are to run at once."</p> + +<p>"Very good. That is all for to-day."</p> + +<p>You can see how well the Meadow Mouse mother brought up her children, +and how carefully she taught them about life. If they had been wise and +always minded her, they would have saved themselves much trouble.</p> + +<p>Seven of them were dutiful and obedient, but the largest of the eight, +and the finest-looking, liked to decide things for himself, and often +laughed at his brothers and sisters for being afraid. Because he was so +big and handsome, and spoke in such a dashing way, they sometimes +wondered if he didn't know as much as their mother.</p> + +<p>One sunshiny day, when all the eight children were playing and feeding +together in the short grass, one of them saw a great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> black bird in the +air. "Oh, look!" she cried. "That may be a Hawk. We'd better run."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said the biggest little Meadow Mouse. "Who's afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Mother said to run," they squeaked, and seven long bare tails whisked +out of sight under a stump.</p> + +<p>"Ho-ho!" said the biggest little Meadow Mouse. "Before I'd be so scared! +I dare you to come back! I dare you to——"</p> + +<p>Just then the Hawk swooped down. And that is the end of the story, for +after that, there was no foolish little Meadow Mouse to tell about.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img107.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE LONELY LITTLE PIG</h2> + + + +<p>One day the Brown Hog called to her twelve young Pigs and their ten +older brothers and sisters, "Look! look! What is in that cage?"</p> + +<p>The twenty-two stubby snouts that were thrust through the opening of the +rail-fence were quivering with eagerness and impatience. Their owners +wished to know all that was happening, and the old mother's eyes were +not so sharp as they had once been, so if the Pigs wanted to know the +news, they must stop their rooting to find it out. Bits of the soft +brown earth clung to their snouts and trembled as they breathed.</p> + +<p>"It looks like a Pig," they said, "only it is white."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is a Pig then," grunted their mother, as she lay in the shade of an +oak tree. "There are white Pigs, although I never fancied the color. It +looks too cold and clean. Brown is more to my taste, brown or black. +Your poor father was brown and black, and a finer looking Hog I never +saw. Ugh! Ugh!" And she buried her eyes in the loose earth. The Pigs +looked at her and then at each other. They did not often speak of their +father. Indeed the younger ones did not remember him at all. One of the +Cows said he had such a bad temper that the farmer sent him away, and it +is certain that none of them had seen him since the day he was driven +down the lane.</p> + +<p>While they were thinking of this and feeling rather sad, the wagon +turned into their lane and they could plainly see the Pig inside. She +was white and quite beautiful in her piggish way. Her ears stood up +stiffly, her snout was as stubby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> as though it had been broken off, her +eyes were very small, and her tail had the right curl. When she squealed +they could see her sharp teeth, and when she put her feet up on the +wooden bars of her rough cage, they noticed the fine hoofs on the two +big toes of each foot and the two little toes high on the back of her +legs, each with its tiny hoof. She was riding in great style, and it is +no wonder that the twenty-two Brown Pigs with black spots and black feet +opened their eyes very wide. They did not know that the farmer brought +her in this way because he was in a hurry, and Pigs will not make haste +when farmers want them to. The Hogs are a queer family, and the Off Ox +spoke truly when he said that the only way to make one hurry ahead is to +tie a rope to his leg and pull back, they are so sure to be contrary.</p> + +<p>"She's coming here!" the Brown Pigs cried. "Oh, Mother, she's coming +here!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> We're going to see the men take her out of her cage."</p> + +<p>The old Hog grunted and staggered to her feet to go with them, but she +was fat and slow of motion, so that by the time she was fairly standing, +they were far down the field and running helter-skelter by the side of +the fence. As she stared dully after them she could see the twenty-two +curly tails bobbing along, and she heard the soft patter of eighty-eight +sharp little double hoofs on the earth.</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" she grunted. "Ugh! Ugh! I am too late to go. Never mind! They +will tell me all about it, and I can take a nap. I haven't slept half +the time to-day, and I need rest."</p> + +<p>Just as the Mother Hog lay down again, the men lifted the White Pig from +the wagon, cage and all, so she began to squeal, and she squealed and +squealed and squealed and squealed until she was set free in the field +with the Brown Pigs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> Nobody had touched her and nobody had hurt her, +but it was all so strange and new that she thought it would make her +feel better to squeal. When she was out of her cage and in the field, +she planted her hoofs firmly in the ground, looked squarely at the Brown +Pigs, and grunted a pleasant, good-natured grunt. The Brown Pigs planted +their hoofs in the ground and grunted and stared. They didn't ask her to +go rooting with them, and not one of the ten big Pigs or the twelve +little Pigs said, "We are glad to see you."</p> + +<p>There is no telling how long they would have stood there if the Horses +had not turned the wagon just then. The minute the wheels began to grate +on the side of the box, every Brown Pig whirled around and ran off.</p> + +<p>The poor little White Pig did not know what to make of it. She knew that +she had not done anything wrong. She wondered if they didn't mean to +speak to her.</p> + +<p><a name="BROWN_PIG" id="BROWN_PIG"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img110.jpg" + alt="EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF" /><br /> + <b>EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF.</b> + </div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>At first she thought she would run after them and ask to root with them, +but then she remembered something her mother had told her when she was +so young that she was pink. It was this: "When you don't know what to +do, go to sleep." So she lay down and took a nap.</p> + +<p>The Brown Pigs did not awaken their mother, and when they stopped in the +fence-corner one of them said to their big sister, "What made you run?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," said she.</p> + +<p>"And why did you run?" the little Pigs asked their big brother.</p> + +<p>"Because," he answered.</p> + +<p>After a while somebody said, "Let's go back to where the White Pig is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said somebody else, "don't let's! She can come over here if +she wants to, and it isn't nearly so nice there."</p> + +<p>You see, they were very rude Pigs and not at all well brought up. Their +mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> should have taught them to think of others and be kind, which is +really all there is to politeness. But then, she had very little time +left from sleeping, and it took her all of that for eating, so her +children had no manners at all.</p> + +<p>At last the White Pig opened her round eyes and saw all the Brown Pigs +at the farther end of the field. "Ugh!" said she to herself, "Ugh! I +must decide what to do before they see that I am awake." She lay there +and tried to think what her mother, who came of a very fine family, had +told her before she left. "If you have nobody to play with," her mother +had said, "don't stop to think about it, and don't act as though you +cared. Have a good time by yourself and you will soon have company. If +you cannot enjoy yourself, you must not expect others to enjoy you."</p> + +<p>"That is what I will do," exclaimed the White Pig. "My mother always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +gives her children good advice when they go out into the world, and she +is right when she says that Pigs of fine family should have fine +manners. I will never forget that I am a Yorkshire. I'm glad I didn't +say anything mean."</p> + +<p>So the White Pig rooted in the sunshine and wallowed in the warm brown +earth that she had stirred up with her pink snout. Once in a while she +would run to the fence to watch somebody in the lane, and before she +knew it she was grunting contentedly to herself. "Really," she said, "I +am almost having a good time. I will keep on making believe that I would +rather do this than anything else."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The big sister of the Brown Pigs looked over to the White Pig and said, +"She's having lots of fun all by herself, it seems to me."</p> + +<p>Big brother raised his head. "Let's call her over here," he answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, do!" cried the twelve little Pigs, wriggling their tails. "She +looks so full of fun."</p> + +<p>"Call her yourself," said the big sister to the big brother.</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" called he. "Ugh! Ugh! Don't you want to come over with us, White +Pig?"</p> + +<p>You can imagine how the White Pig felt when she heard this; how her +small eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up more than +ever. She was just about to scamper over and root with them, when she +remembered something else that her mother had told her: "Never run after +other Pigs. Let them run after you. Then they will think more of you."</p> + +<p>She called back, "I'm having too good a time here to leave my +rooting-ground. Won't you come over here?"</p> + +<p>"Come on," cried all the little Pigs to each other. "Beat you there!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>They ate and talked and slept together all afternoon, and when the Brown +Hog called her children home, they and the White Pig were the best of +friends. "Just think," they said to their mother, "the White Pig let us +visit her, and she is just as nice as she can be."</p> + +<p>The White Pig in her corner of the pen heard this and smiled to herself. +"My mother was right," she said; "'Have a good time alone, and everybody +will want to come.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img117.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF</h2> + + +<p>"I think," said the Blind Horse, "that something is the matter with my +ears." He and the Dappled Gray had been doing field-work all the +morning, and were now eating a hearty dinner in their stalls. They were +the only people on the first floor of the barn. Even the stray Doves who +had wandered in the open door were out in the sunshine once more. Once +in a while the whirr of wings told that some Swallow darted through the +window into the loft above and flew to her nest under the roof. There +was a deep and restful quiet in the sun-warmed air, and yet the Blind +Horse had seemed to be listening to something which the other did not +hear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Dappled Gray stopped eating at once. "Your ears?" said he. "What is +wrong with them? I thought your hearing was very good."</p> + +<p>"It always has been," was the answer, "and finer than ever since I lost +my sight. You know it is always so with us blind people. We learn to +hear better than we could before losing our sight. But ever since we +came in from the field I have had a queer sound in my ears, and I think +there is something the matter with them."</p> + +<p>The Dappled Gray stopped eating and stood perfectly still to listen. He +did not even switch his tail, although at that minute there were three +Flies on his left side and one on his neck. He was trying as hard as he +could to hear the queer sound also, for if he did, it would prove that +the noise was real and that the Blind Horse's hearing was all right.</p> + +<p>He could not hear a thing. "What is it like?" he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Like the loud purring of a Cat," was the answer, "but everybody knows +that the Cat is not purring anywhere around here."</p> + +<p>"She might be," said the Dappled Gray. "Where does the sound seem to +be?"</p> + +<p>"Above my head," said the Blind Horse; "and she certainly would not be +purring up there at this time. She would either be sound asleep, or off +hunting, or else out in the sunshine, where she loves to sit."</p> + +<p>The Dappled Gray felt that this was so, and he could not say a word. He +was very sorry for his friend. He thought how dreadful it would seem to +be both blind and deaf, and he choked on the oats he was swallowing.</p> + +<p>"Now don't worry," said the Blind Horse; "if I should be deaf, I could +still feel the soft touch of the breeze on my skin, and could taste my +good food, and rub noses with my friends. I wouldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> have spoken of it, +only I hoped that you could hear the noise also, and then I would know +that it was real." That was just like him. He was always patient and +sweet-tempered. In all the years he had been blind, he had never once +complained of it, and many times when the other Horses were about to say +or do some ill-natured thing, they thought of him and stopped. They were +ashamed to be impatient when they were so much better off than he.</p> + +<p>The Horses kept on eating their oats and resting from their hard work. +In the hay-loft above their heads, the Cat lay and purred and purred and +purred, never dreaming that her doing so made trouble for her friends +downstairs.</p> + +<p>She had been hunting all the night before, creeping softly through the +barn and hiding behind bags and boxes to watch for careless Mice and +young Rats. They were night-runners as well as she, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> many things +happened in the barn and farmyard while the larger four-legged people +were sound asleep and the fowls were dreaming with their heads tucked +under their wings. Sometimes there were not so many Mice in the morning +as there had been the evening before, and when this was so, the Cat +would walk slowly through the barn and look for a comfortable +resting-place. When she found it, she would turn around three times, as +her great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother used to do to +trample a bed in the jungle, and then lie down for a long nap. She said +she always slept better when her stomach was full, and that was the +habit of all Cats.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she hunted in the fields, and many a morning at sunrise the +Cows had seen her walking toward the barn on the top of the fences. She +did not like to wet her feet on the dewy grass when it could be helped; +so, as soon as she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> through hunting, she jumped on to the nearest +fence and went home in that way.</p> + +<p>Yes, last night she had been hunting, yet she was not thinking of it +now. Neither was she asleep. A Rat gnawed at the boards near her, and +she hardly turned her head. A Mouse ran across the floor in plain sight, +and she watched him without moving. What did she care about them now? +Her first Kittens lay on the hay beside her, and she would not leave +them on this first day of their lives unless she really had to.</p> + +<p>Of course she had seen little Kittens before—Kittens that belonged to +other Cats—but she was certain that none of them had looked at all like +her three charming babies. She could not decide which one of them was +the most beautiful. She was a Tortoise-shell Cat herself, and her fur +was spotted with white, black, and yellow. The babies had the same +colors<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> on their soft coats, but not in just the same way as hers.</p> + +<p>At first she thought her largest daughter was the beauty of the family; +she was such a clear yellow, with not a hair of any other color on her. +"I always did like yellow Cats," said the young mother, "and they are +said to be very strong."</p> + +<p>Then she looked at her smaller daughter, who was white with tiny yellow +and black spots on neck and head. "Such a clean-looking baby," she +exclaimed, "and I am sure that when her eyes are open I shall find them +blue like my own."</p> + +<p>Just at this moment, the warm, dark little bunch of fur between her +forepaws moved, and she looked lovingly down upon him, her only son. "He +is certainly a very remarkable one," she said. "I never before saw such +a fine mixture of yellow and black, first a hair of one and then a hair +of the other, so that, unless one is very close to him it looks like a +rich<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> brown. And then his feet!" She gave him a loving little poke with +one forefoot and turned him onto his back. This made him wave his tiny +paws in the air. The thick cushions of skin on each were as black as +black could be, and that is very uncommon. They are usually pink, like +those of his sisters.</p> + +<p>The little fellow lay there, wriggling very feebly, until his mother +gave him another poke that turned him over. Then he stretched and +crawled toward her, reaching his head first one way and then another. He +was so weak that he could not raise his body from the hay, but dragged +it along by taking short and uncertain steps with his four shaking legs. +It was only a short time since he found that he had legs, and he hadn't +any idea how to use them. He just moved whichever one seemed most in his +way.</p> + +<p>He didn't know where he was going, or what he was going for, but his +little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> stomach was empty and he was cold. Something, he didn't know +what, made him drag himself toward the big, warm creature near by. When +his black nose touched the fur of her body, he stopped pushing ahead and +began to feel from side to side. He did not know now for what he was +feeling, yet when he found something his tiny mouth closed around it and +a stream of sweet warm milk began to flow down his throat and into his +empty stomach. He did not know that it was milk. He did not know +anything except that it was good, and then he fell asleep. His sisters +did in the same way, and soon the happy mother could look down and see +her three babies in a row beside her, all sound asleep. Their pointed +little tails lay straight out behind them, and their soft ears were bent +forward close to their heads.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said she, "if I was ever as small as they are, and if my +mother loved me as I love them." She stretched out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> one of her forepaws +and looked at it. It was so much larger, so very much larger, than the +paws of the Kittens. Such a soft and dainty paw as it was, and so +perfectly clean. She stretched it even more, and saw five long, curved, +sharp claws slide out of their sheaths or cases. She quickly slid them +back into their sheaths, for fear that in some way they might happen to +touch and hurt her babies.</p> + +<p>A Swallow flew down from his nest and passed over her head, then out of +the open window. "Kittens!" said he. "Kittens!" He flew over the fields +and saw two Horses standing by the fence while the farmer was oiling his +machine. "We have new neighbors in the barn," said he, "and the Cat is +purring louder than ever."</p> + +<p>"Who are the neighbors?" asked the Dappled Gray.</p> + +<p>"Kittens!" sang the Swallow. "Oh, tittle-ittle-ittle-ee."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Blind Horse drew a long breath. "Then I did hear her purr," said he; +"I am so glad." He never made a fuss about his troubles, for he was +brave and unselfish, yet the Dappled Gray knew without being told how +much lighter his heart was since he heard that the Cat had really been +purring above his head.</p> + +<p>The days passed by, and the Kittens grew finely. They got their eyes +open, first in narrow cracks, and then wider and wider, until they were +round and staring. The White Kitten had blue ones, the others brown. In +the daytime, they had long, narrow black spots in the middle of their +eyes, and as the bright light faded, these black spots spread out +sideways until they were quite round. When it was very dark, these spots +glowed like great Fireflies in the night. Then the Mice, who often +scampered through the loft when the Cat was away, would see three pairs +of eyes glowing in the hay, and they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> would squeak to each other: "See! +The Kittens are watching us."</p> + +<p>And the Kittens, who were not yet old enough to go hunting, and who were +afraid of everything that stirred, would crowd up against each other, +arch their little backs, raise their pointed tails, stand their fur on +end, and say, "Pst! Ha-a-ah!"</p> + +<p>Sometimes they did this when there was not a person in sight and what +frightened them was nothing but a wisp of hay, blown down by the wind. +Afterward, when anything moved, they sprang at it, held it down with +their sharp little claws, and chewed on it with their pointed white +teeth. When they were tired of this game, they played hide-and-seek, and +when they were tired of that they chased their tails. It was so nice +always to have playthings with them. Sometimes, too, they chased each +other's tails, and caught them and bit them hard, until the Kitten who +owned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> the tail cried, "Mieow!" and tumbled the biter over.</p> + +<p>They were allowed to play all through the loft except over the mangers. +Their mother was afraid that if they went there they would fall through +the holes which had been left in the floor. During the winter, the +farmer used to throw hay down through these to the hungry Horses. When +the Cat saw her children going toward these places, she called them back +and scolded them. Sometimes she struck them lightly on the ears with her +forepaw. "I don't like to," said she, "but they must learn to keep away. +It is not safe for them to go there."</p> + +<p>One morning when she was away, they were playing hide-and-seek, and the +White Kitten was hunting for a good hiding-place. "I'll hide near one of +these holes," she said, "and they won't dare come there to look. Then, +after they have hunted a long, long time, I'll get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> another place and +let them find me." She did hide there, and after a long, long time, when +her brother and sister were in the farther end of the loft, she tried to +run over to another dark corner. Instead of that, the hay began to slip +and slide under her and she went down, down, down, through a long dark +box, and hit with a hard thud at the bottom.</p> + +<p>She was so scared that she couldn't have told how many toes she had on +her forefeet. Of course, she had five on each, like all Kittens, and +four on each hind-foot, but if anybody had asked her then, she would +have been quite likely to say "three."</p> + +<p>She was sore, too, and when she felt a warm breath on her and opened her +eyes, she saw that some great creature had thrust his nose through a +hole in the side of the dark box. "It must be a Horse," she thought, +"and my mother says that they are kind to Cats. I think I'd better<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> tell +him who I am. I don't want him to take me for a Pig, because he may not +like Pigs." You see, she forgot that Horses had been living in the great +world and could tell to what family a person belonged the very first +time they saw him. The only people she had ever seen were Swallows and +Mice.</p> + +<p>"If—if you please, sir," she said, "I am the White Kitten, and I just +tumbled down from the hay-loft, but I didn't mean to."</p> + +<p>"I am the Blind Horse," answered a strong and gentle voice outside, "and +I hope you are not hurt."</p> + +<p>"Not very much," answered the Kitten. "I just feel ache-y in my back and +scared all over."</p> + +<p>"Come out into the manger, White Kitten," said the Blind Horse, "and +perhaps you won't be so scared. I won't touch you, although I should +like to. You know I am blind, and so, unless I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>can touch people I +don't know how they look."</p> + +<p><a name="KITTEN" id="KITTEN"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img130.jpg" + alt="I AM THE WHITE KITTEN" /><br /> + <b>I AM THE WHITE KITTEN.</b> + </div> + + + +<p>The White Kitten crawled out and saw him, and then she wasn't afraid at +all. She was so sorry for him that she couldn't be afraid. She +remembered the time before her eyes opened when she had to feel for +everything she wanted. It was not so hard then, because she did not know +anything different, but now she could not bear to think of not being +able to see all that was around her. "If you will put your nose down in +the other end of the manger," she said, "I will rub up against it, and +you will know more how I look."</p> + +<p>The Blind Horse did this, and who can tell how happy it made him when +her warm and furry back rubbed up against his nose? "Thank you," he +whinnied; "you are very good."</p> + +<p>"Would you know I was a Kitten if I hadn't told you?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I would," he answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And you wouldn't have thought me a Pig?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Never!" said he; "I wouldn't even have believed you if you had told me +that you were one."</p> + +<p>The Blind Horse and the White Kitten became firm friends, and when she +tried to wash off the dirt that got into her fur she sat in the very +middle of the manger and told him all about it.</p> + +<p>"My mother always has washed me," she said, "but my tongue is getting +big enough to wash with now. It is getting rougher, too, and that is a +good thing. My mother says that the reason why all the prickles on Cats' +tongues point backward is because then we can lick all the meat off from +bones with them. I'm 'most old enough to eat meat now. I can't wash the +top of my head though. You have to wet your paw and scrub it with that. +Can you wash the top of your head?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then the Blind Horse told her how the men kept him clean; and while he +was telling this the Cat came into his stall, crying and looking for her +child.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother," cried the White Kitten, "I tumbled down, but I didn't mean +to, and I'm sorry I didn't mind you, and the Blind Horse can't wash the +top of his head, and he knew that I wasn't a Pig."</p> + +<p>The Cat was so glad to find the White Kitten that she didn't scold at +all, but jumped into the manger and washed her clean, and then caught +the loose skin of the Kitten's neck between her teeth and carried her +through the stalls, across the barn-floor, and up the stairs to their +home. That made the Kitten much ashamed, for she thought that she was +old enough to go alone.</p> + +<p>For two whole days after this the White Kitten was so lame from her fall +that she could only lie still on the hay, and she could see that her +mother did not treat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> her as before. "I won't ever go near those places +again," she said. "I never will."</p> + +<p>"You promised me before that you would stay away," said her mother, "and +you broke your promise." She did not punish the White Kitten, but she +felt very sad and she could not help showing it. There was a dreadful +ache in her child's little Kitten-heart that was a great deal worse than +the lameness in her back or in her neck or in her legs.</p> + +<p>At last there came a day when the whole family walked downstairs, and +the Cat showed her three children to the farmyard people and spoke a few +words about each. "The yellow Kitten, my big daughter," said she, +"promises to be the best hunter: she is a wonderful jumper, and her +claws are already nearly as long as mine. My son, the brown one, has a +remarkable voice. And this White Kitten, my little daughter, is the most +obedient<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> of all. She has never disobeyed me since the day she fell into +the manger, and I can trust her perfectly."</p> + +<p>Then the White Kitten knew that she was quite forgiven, and she was the +happiest person on the farm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img117.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL</h2> + + +<p>It was some time after the Dorking Hen had come off the nest with her +little brood, that the mother of the Shanghai Chickens began to have so +much trouble.</p> + +<p>She had twelve as fine Chickens as you could find anywhere: tall, +wide-awake youngsters with long and shapely legs and thick down and +feathers. She was very proud of them, as any Hen mother might well be, +and often said to the Shanghai Cock, "Did you ever see so fine a family? +Look at those twenty-four legs, all so long and straight, and not a +feather on one of them." His eyes would shine and he would stretch his +neck with pride, but all he ever said to her was, "They will do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> very +well if they only behave as well as they look." He did not believe in +praising children to their faces, and he thought their mother spoiled +them.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he was right, for the little Shanghais soon found out that they +were good-looking, and they wanted everybody in the poultry-yard to +notice their legs. It was very foolish, of course, to be proud of such +things, but when the other fowls said, "We should think you would be +cold without feathers on your legs," they answered, "Oh, we are +Shanghais, and our family never wear feathers there!" And that was true, +just as it is true that the Dorkings have extra toes, and that the Black +Spanish fowls have white ears.</p> + +<p>The Shanghai mother was now roaming the fields with her brood, and there +was rich picking in the wheat-stubble. All the fowls were out of the +yard now, and would not be shut up until cold weather. Early in the +morning they would start out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> in parties of from six to a dozen, with a +Cock at the head of each. He chose the way in which they should go; he +watched the sky for Hawks, and if he saw one, gave a warning cry that +made the Hens hurry to him. The Cocks are the lords of the poultry-yard +and say how things shall be there; but when you see them leading the way +in the fields,—ah, then you know why all the fowls obey them.</p> + +<p>The farmyard people still tell of the day when a Hawk swooped down on +one of the young Dorkings and would have carried him off if the Black +Spanish Cock had not jumped out, and pecked him and struck at him with +his spurs, and fought, until the Hawk was glad to hurry away. The Cocks +are not only brave—they are polite, too, and when they find food they +will not eat it until they have called the Hens to come and share with +them.</p> + +<p>You can imagine what good times the Chickens had in the stubble-fields. +They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> were so old now that their down was all covered with feathers, and +some of them wondered if they couldn't feel their spurs growing. Still, +that was all nonsense, as a Bantam told them, because spurs do not start +until the fowl is a year old. They had long been too large to cuddle +under their mother's feathers at night, and had taken their first +lessons in roosting before they went to the stubble-fields. They had +learned to break up their own food, too, and that was a great help to +their mother. Fowls, you know, have no teeth, and no matter how big a +mouthful one takes he has to swallow it whole. The only way they can +help themselves is to break the pieces apart with their feet or peck +them apart with their bills before eating them.</p> + +<p>The yellow grains of wheat that lay everywhere in the field were fine +food, and should have made the little Shanghais as fat as the Grouse who +sometimes stole out from the edge of the forest. Eleven of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> the brood +were quite plump, but one Chicken was still thin and lank. His mother +was very much worried about him and could not think what was the matter. +She spoke of it to the Black Spanish Hen one day, but the Black Spanish +Hen had never raised a brood, and said she really didn't know any more +about the care of Chickens than if she were a Dove. Then the anxious +mother went to the Shanghai Cock about it. He listened to all she said +and looked very knowing.</p> + +<p>"I don't think there is anything the matter," said he. "The Chick is +growing fast, that is all. I remember how it was with me before I got my +long tail-feathers. I was very thin, yet see what a fine-looking fellow +I am now." He was really a sight worth seeing as he towered above the +other fowls, flapping his strong wings in the sunshine and crowing. His +feathers were beautiful, and the bright red of his comb and wattles +showed that he was well.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> "Ah," thought the Shanghai Hen, "if my Chicken +could only become such a fine-looking Cock!" And she didn't worry any +more all day.</p> + +<p>That night she and her brood roosted in the old apple-tree in the corner +of the orchard nearest the poultry-yard. She flew up with the older +fowls and fluttered and lurched and squawked and pushed on first one +branch and then another, while the Chickens were walking up a slanting +board that the farmer had placed against one of the lower branches. It +always takes fowls a long time to settle themselves for the night. They +change places and push each other, and sometimes one sleepy Hen leans +over too far and falls to the ground, and then has to begin all over +again.</p> + +<p>At first the Chickens had feared that they would tumble off as soon as +they were asleep, but they soon learned that their feet and the feet of +all other birds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> are made in such a way that they hang on tightly even +during sleep. The weight of the bird's body above hooks the toes around +the branch, and there they stay until the bird wishes to unhook them.</p> + +<p>After a long time, all the fowls were asleep with their heads under +their wings. The Sheep, Pigs, and Cows were dreaming, and even the +Horses were quiet in their stalls. There was not a light to be seen in +the big white farmhouse, when the Dorking Cock crowed in his sleep. That +awakened him and all the other fowls as well. Then the other Cocks +crowed because he did and he crowed again because they did, and they +crowed again because he had crowed again, and the Chickens asked if it +were not almost morning, and their mothers told them not to talk but to +go to sleep at once and make morning come more quickly.</p> + +<p>All of this took quite a while, and the Shanghai mother could not sleep +again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> She could see her brood quite plainly in the moonlight, and one +of them was not plump like the rest. She roosted there and worried about +him until suddenly (she could never tell how it happened) she seemed to +know just what was the matter.</p> + +<p>She flew down beside him and poked him under his wing. "Wake up," she +said. "I want to ask you something. Do you eat gravel?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered sleepily, "I don't like gravel."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I bring you up to eat it?" she asked sternly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I don't like it, and now that I am old enough to roost in a +tree I don't mean to eat any more. So!"</p> + +<p>Just imagine a Chicken talking to his mother in that way! His mother, +who had laid the egg from which he was hatched; who had sat upon the +nest through all the weary days and nights while he was growing inside +his shell; who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> had cuddled him under her soft feathers; who had taught +him all he knew, and would have fought any hawk to save him! She had +begun to love him before he even knew that he was, and had lived for him +and his brother and sisters ever since.</p> + +<p>The mother said nothing more to him then. She spent the rest of the +night watching the stars and the moon and the first rosy flush of the +eastern sky which told that morning was near. Then she said to her +naughty Chicken, as he began to stir and cheep, "I shall never try to +make you eat gravel if you think you are too big to mind your mother. I +shall just tell you this, that you will never be strong unless you do. I +have not told you why, because you never asked, and I supposed you would +do as you ought without knowing the reason. You have no teeth, and you +cannot chew the grain you eat before it is swallowed. You have a strong +stomach, and if you eat gravel this stomach or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> gizzard will rub and +press the tiny stones against the grain until it is well broken up and +ready to make into fat and strength for your body."</p> + +<p>"But it doesn't taste good," he replied, "and I'd rather eat other +things. I don't believe it matters, and I won't eat it anyway."</p> + +<p>The Shanghai Hen flew down from the tree and clucked to her Chickens. +She would not waste time talking to him. Whenever he came near her that +day, he ate everything but gravel. He had his own way and yet he was not +happy. For some reason, nothing seemed to be any fun. Even lying under +the bushes on the sunshiny side was not comfortable, and when he +wallowed in the dust with his brothers and sisters he didn't enjoy that.</p> + +<p>Things went on this way for a good many days, and at last he saw that +his shadow was only a small black spot on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> the ground, while his +brothers and sisters had big fat shadows. He heard the Black Spanish +Cock call him a Bantam, and the Shanghai Cock say that he wouldn't live +until his spurs grew. One of the Dorking Chickens was talking to her +sister, and he heard her say, "Imagine him at the head of a flock!" Then +she laughed, a mean, cackling little laugh.</p> + +<p>That night, when the rest were asleep in the apple-tree, he walked +softly down the slanting board and ate gravel. The next morning he felt +better than he had in a long time, so when there was nobody around he +ate some more. He didn't want anyone else to know that he had found out +his mistake. Every morning he looked at his shadow, and it grew fatter +and fatter. Still he was not happy, and he knew it was because he had +not told his patient old mother. He wanted to tell her, too. One day he +heard her telling his brother to eat more gravel, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> the brother said +he didn't like the taste of it. That made him speak at last.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you don't like it, you can eat it. Queer world it would be if +we didn't have to do unpleasant things. I've just made up my mind that +the people who won't do hard things, when they ought to, have the +hardest times in the end. Wish I'd minded my mother and eaten gravel +when she told me to, and I'm not going to let you be as foolish as I +was."</p> + +<p>Just then he heard somebody say of him, "What a fine-looking fellow he +is growing to be! I like him ever so much now."</p> + +<p>It was the Dorking Chicken who had laughed at him. He ran after a +Grasshopper, and she ran after the same Grasshopper, and they ran +against each other and the Grasshopper got away, so of course they had +to wander off together to find something to eat, and after that they +became great friends.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Shanghai Hen looked lovingly after him and raised one foot in the +air. "Now," she said, "I am perfectly happy."</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img117.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY</h2> + + +<p>It would be hard to tell which family is the most important among the +farmyard people. There is no one animal so wise as Collie, the farmer's +dog, and all the rest love him and mind him when he is sent to bring +them up from the pasture or to drive them to the water. Still, he does +not spend his days in barn or field and only comes with his master or +for a visit now and then.</p> + +<p>You may remember how the Garter Snake and the old Tree Frog were the +leaders in the meadow, and how in the forest all looked up to the Ground +Hog. These people were patient and old, and partly because they were old +and had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> had many years in which to think about life, they were very +wise. In the farmyard the Oxen were the most patient and the oldest, and +it was to them that all the animals went when they were in trouble.</p> + +<p>There were also the Horses, fine strong creatures, always helping +somebody else and working all day during most of the year. They drew the +reaper through the tall grain, and where in the morning had been a field +of waving golden wheat, at sunset were bundles or sheaves of gathered +grain, and the stubble was ready for the fowls. They were busy people; +and sometimes during the winter they liked to remind their neighbors how +much they had done.</p> + +<p>Then again, there were the Cows, who are the sisters of the Oxen. They +are large and there are many of them, yet they are not so wise, and that +is easily understood. All that they have to do on the farm is to give +milk for the butter-and cheese-making, and for the farmer's chil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>dren to +drink. No farmer could get along without his Cows, but they do not work +like their brothers. They have so easy a time that they do not learn +much. You know, when people work, they have to think, and when people +think enough useful thoughts it makes them wise. That is one of the many +reasons why it is so foolish to be lazy.</p> + +<p>Truly, it would be hard to say which farmyard family is the most +important, but there is no trouble at all in telling which family think +themselves the most so. If you ask any Goose, she will tell you that one +of their flock is worth five Horses or a dozen Cows. Nobody else would +tell you this, and if you should speak of it to the span of Bays, or the +Dappled Gray, or even the youngest Colt in the stable, they would answer +you only with a hearty Horse laugh. The Cows would smile and reply, +"What a Goose she was to say that!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p>There has always been a flock of Geese on the farm, and their neighbors +are so used to their queer ways that they only smile when the Geese put +on airs, and it is a good-natured smile, too. They even feel rather +sorry for them when they lose their feathers, although the Nigh Ox once +said that if it were not for being plucked once in a while, the Geese +would really be too airy to live with.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the Nigh Ox was right in what he said, for certainly after they +have worn their feathers all winter, they hold their heads higher than +ever, and tell what they think and what they would do, and it is well +they should be reminded that they work for a living like all their +neighbors. The farmer's wife never plucks the Geese until warm weather +comes. Then she takes all the soft, short feathers that they have worn +through the winter, and this leaves them looking very ragged indeed. +There was a time, years ago, when Geese had to give up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> their long +tail-and wing-feathers to be whittled into pens, but these Geese didn't +know about that, and there was nobody in the farmyard old enough to +remember it and tell them, so they thought they had a pretty hard time +in even giving up their breast feathers.</p> + +<p>"Sssss!" the Gander used to say, "if the farmer's boys must have +feather pillows on which to lay their heads, why do they not grow their +own feathers?"</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said the Nigh Ox once; "If you must have oats to eat, why don't +you grow the oats?" But the Gander was already waddling away and +pretended not to hear him.</p> + +<p>It is in the winter that the Geese put on the most airs. Then, when the +Horses are being harnessed, they say to each other, "Dear me! Wouldn't +it be dreadful to work in that way for a living?" And sometimes, when +the team is hitched to a post by the farmhouse, they waddle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> past in a +single line with the Gander at the head, and say to the Horses: "Hear +you have to take a load of wood to town. It's too bad. Hope you won't +get very tired. We are going to the river for a nice cold swim. +Good-bye." Then they march off with their heads held high, and as soon +as their backs are turned, the Horses look at each other and laugh +softly. They know that there is nothing in the world better than good, +honest, hard work, no matter of what kind it is.</p> + +<p>Every winter the Geese forget about having to be plucked, and every +spring they are surprised to lose their feathers. They are plucked four +times before fall comes, and these four times come so near together that +even they can remember from one to another. You would think that then +they would not be so airy, but instead of saying, "Of course we work for +our living—why shouldn't we?" they say, "Why, yes, we do let the +farmer's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> wife have some of our feathers when she wants them. We suppose +you might call it work to grow feathers for her, still it does not take +much of our time, and it is quite different from drawing loads and +getting tired as the Horses and Oxen do. Growing feathers is genteel."</p> + +<p>They do not remember anything long, and so, when they have made a +mistake once, they are likely to make the same mistake over and over +again. Then, too, they cannot tell big things from little things, and +they are not happy unless they can have their own way all the time. And +you know that nobody can be sure of that. It all comes of their not +being willing to think hard, and sometimes it makes them a great deal of +trouble, as it did on the day when the Gray Goose would not go through +the farmyard gate.</p> + +<p>This was soon after the Gander and his wife had hatched their brood of +seven Goslings, and they were taking them at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> once to the brook. It was +a happy day for all the flock. The Gander and the Mother Goose were glad +because their children were safely out of the shell, and because they +would no longer have to sit with cramped legs on the nest. Ganders are +good fathers, for they cover the eggs half of the time, while the Mother +Goose is resting. The other Geese were not only proud of the Goslings, +but they were glad to have the Gander and the Mother Goose free to go +around with them again. They had missed them very much.</p> + +<p>The gate from the farmyard into the meadow stood wide open, and all the +Geese except the Gray one followed the Gander through. The Gray Goose +tried to go through a small hole in the fence very near the gate. She +squeezed her head into it and stretched her neck on the meadow side of +the fence, but she could not get any farther, although she pushed until +she was dizzy.</p> + +<p><a name="GRAY_GOOSE" id="GRAY_GOOSE"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img156.jpg" + alt="THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH" /><br /> + <b>THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH.</b> + </div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wait for me," she cried. "Wait for me-ee!"</p> + +<p>"Hurry, then," said the Gander.</p> + +<p>"I am hurrying," she cried, and she pushed with all her strength, but +since the hole in the fence was so small, she did not get any farther +than before.</p> + +<p>"Go through the gateway," said the Nigh Ox, who was grazing near by.</p> + +<p>"Sssss!" said the Gray Goose stiffly. "I would rather go through here. I +have chosen to go this way."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the Nigh Ox, "excuse me! Do go through there by all means!"</p> + +<p>"We are going on," called the Gander; "we would wait, but the Goslings +are in a hurry to take their first bath. Come as soon as you can."</p> + +<p>The Gray Goose tried harder than ever to go the way that she had chosen, +but it only made her so out of breath that she had to lie down and rest. +Once she thought she heard somebody laugh, yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> when she looked at the +Nigh Ox, who was the only person around, he was lying with closed eyes +and solemnly chewing his cud, so she decided that she must have been +mistaken.</p> + +<p>Down by the brook the rest of the flock were cackling merrily, and she +could see the seven Goslings swimming with the Geese and the Gander. +"Oh," she cried, "how I wish I were with them! I don't see what is the +matter with this hole in the fence. The farmer ought to make it bigger."</p> + +<p>She pushed and scolded and fussed until her neck was sore and she was +too tired to swim if she had a chance, so she sat down to rest. She did +remember what the Nigh Ox had said; still, if she couldn't go as she had +planned, she wouldn't go at all. She walked into the barn to find a cool +and shady place, lowering her head as she stepped over the threshold of +the high front door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What did you do that for?" twittered a Swallow.</p> + +<p>"Because I don't want to hit my head on the top of the doorway;" she +replied. "I always do so. All of our flock do so."</p> + +<p>"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee," laughed the Swallow, as she darted away and +alighted on the fence by the Nigh Ox. "Why isn't the Gray Goose in +swimming with the rest?" asked she.</p> + +<p>"Because she can't push her fat body through that hole in the fence," +said the Nigh Ox, switching his tail toward it as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't she go through the gateway, then?" asked the Swallow.</p> + +<p>"Because she says she would rather go the other way, and that if she +can't go that way, she won't go at all."</p> + +<p>"And she is missing all that fun?" said the Swallow.</p> + +<p>"All of it," answered the Nigh Ox, "but then, you know, she is such a +Goose!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img003.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY</h2> + + +<p>It was during the hottest summer weather that the wind-storm came. The +farmyard people always spoke of it as "the" wind-storm, because not even +the Blind Horse, who had lived on the farm longer than any of his +neighbors, could remember anything like it. "I recall one time," he +said, "when a sweet-apple tree was blown down in the fall. The Hogs +found it and ate all the fruit before the farmer knew that it was down. +You should have heard them grunt over it. They were afraid the farmer +would drive them away before they had eaten it all. Eh, well! They ate +all they wanted, but one of the Pigs told me afterward that it made them +sick, and that he never wanted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> to see another sweet apple as long as he +lived. That was a hard storm, but not like this, not like this."</p> + +<p>It had come in the night when the farmyard people were asleep, and there +was much scampering to shelter. The fowls, who were roosting in the old +apple-tree, did not have time to oil their feathers and make them +water-proof. They just flew off their perches as fast as they could and +ran for the open door of the Hen-house. When they were once inside, they +ruffled up their feathers and shook themselves to get rid of the +rain-drops. Fowls do not like wet weather, and it vexes them very much +to be in the rain. Their neighbors know this so well that it has become +their custom to say of an angry person that he is "as mad as a wet Hen."</p> + +<p>The Cows were in their part of the barn with their necks between the +stanchions, so there was nothing for them to do but to keep still and +think of those who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> were out of doors. The Horses were in their +comfortable stalls. They had been working hard all day and the farmer +had gotten a good supper of oats ready for them in their mangers, so +that they could eat quickly and go to sleep, instead of staying awake +and walking around to get their own suppers in the pasture.</p> + +<p>Out in the meadow the Sheep huddled close together under a low-branching +tree, and stood still until the storm passed. They had been so warm that +the cool rain made them comfortable, but the wind pushed them and swayed +the branches of the trees. The loud thunder made the Lambs jump. They +liked the lightning and made a game out of it, each one telling what he +had seen by the last flash. The clouds, too, were beautiful, and flew +across the sky like great dark birds with downy breasts, dropping now +and then shining worms from their beaks.</p> + +<p>At last the air became cool and clear,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> and the clouds flew far away +toward the east. Next, the stars peeped out, first one, then two, then +six, then twenty, and then so many that you could not have counted +them,—more than the leaves on a maple-tree, more than the grass-blades +of the meadow. The Sheep ran around a little to shake off the rain-drops +and warm themselves, then they huddled down again to sleep.</p> + +<p>When the sun arose in the eastern sky, his warm beams fell upon the +Sheep and awakened them. "How cool and beautiful a day," they said. +"What a morning for a run!"</p> + +<p>"I can beat you to the tall grass!" called one little Lamb to the rest, +and they all scampered around the field, throwing up their heels for +joy. They had been away from their mothers for awhile, and had learned +to eat grass instead of milk. They were quite proud of the way in which +they broke it off, with quick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> upward jerks of their heads, and their +teeth were growing finely. They did not expect any upper front teeth, +for in place of them the Sheep have only a hard pad of flesh.</p> + +<p>Soon they came running back to the flock. "There is a Dog over there," +they cried, "a strange Dog. He doesn't look like Collie. He is coming +this way, and we are afraid."</p> + +<p>Their uncle, the Bell-Wether, looked over to where the strange Dog was, +then turned quickly and began to run. The bell around his neck clinked +at every step. When the other Sheep heard the bell they raised their +heads and ran after him, and the Lambs ran after them. The strange Dog +did not follow or even bark at them, yet on they went, shaking the +shining rain-drops from the grass as they trod upon it. Not one of them +was thinking for himself what he really ought to do. The Bell-Wether +thought, "I feel like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> running away from the Dog, and so I will run."</p> + +<p>The other Sheep said to themselves, "The Bell-Wether is running and so +we will run."</p> + +<p>And the Lambs said, "If they are all running we will run."</p> + +<p>Along the fence they went, the bell clinking, their hoofs pattering, and +not one of them thinking for himself, until they reached a place where +the fence was blown over. It was not blown 'way down, but leaned so that +it could be jumped. If a single one of the flock, even the youngest +Lamb, had said, "Don't jump!" they would have stayed in the pasture; but +nobody said it. The Bell-Wether felt like jumping over, so he jumped. +Then the Sheep did as the Bell-Wether had done, and the Lambs did as the +Sheep had done.</p> + +<p>Now they were in the road and the Bell-Wether turned away from the +farm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>house and ran on, with the Sheep and the Lambs following. Even now, +if anybody had said, "Stop!" they would have stopped, for they knew that +they were doing wrong; but nobody said it.</p> + +<p>After a while a heavy wagon came rumbling down the road behind them, and +the Bell-Wether jumped over a ditch and ran into a hilly field with +woodland beyond. Because he went the Sheep did, and because the Sheep +went the Lambs did, and nobody said "Stop!" You see, by this time they +were very badly frightened, and no wonder. When they saw the strange Dog +they were a little scared, for they thought he might chase them. If they +had made themselves stay there and act brave they would soon have felt +brave. Even if the Dog had been a cruel one, they could have kept him +from hurting them, for Sheep have been given very strong, hard foreheads +with which to strike, and the Bell-Wether had also<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> long, curled horns +with three ridges on the side of each. But it is with Sheep as it is +with other people,—if they let themselves be frightened they grow more +and more fearful, even when there is no real danger and now all of their +trouble came from their not stopping to think what they ought to do.</p> + +<p>They hurried up to the highest ground in the field, and when they were +there and could go no farther, they stopped and looked at each other. +One Lamb said to his mother, "Why did we come here? It isn't nearly so +nice as our own meadow."</p> + +<p>"Why, I came because the Bell-Wether did," she answered. Then she turned +to the Bell-Wether and said, "Why did you bring us here?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't bring you here," he replied. "I felt like coming, and I came. +I didn't make you follow."</p> + +<p>"N-no," answered the Sheep; "but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> you might have known that if you came +the Sheep would come."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Bell-Wether, "you might have known that if you Sheep +came the Lambs would, so you'd better not say anything."</p> + +<p>"Baa!" cried the Lambs. "We are hot and thirsty and there isn't any +water here to drink. We want to go back."</p> + +<p>Everybody was out of patience with somebody else, and nobody was +comfortable. They did not dare try to go home again, for fear they would +have more trouble, so they huddled together on the top of the hill and +were very miserable and unhappy. They hadn't any good reason for coming, +and they could not even have told why they ran to the hilltop instead of +staying in the pleasant hollow below.</p> + +<p>There was a reason for their running up, however, although +they didn't know it. It was because their +great-great-great-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>great-great-great-grandfather and-grandmother were +wild Sheep in the mountains, and when frightened ran up among the rocks +where there was nobody to hurt them. They got into the habit of running +up-hill when scared, and their children did the same, and their +children's children did the same, and now even the farmyard Sheep do so, +although they long ago forgot the reason why.</p> + +<p>"Bow-wow-wow!" rang out on the still morning air.</p> + +<p>"There's Collie!" cried the Lambs joyfully. "He's coming to take us +home. Let's bleat to help him find us more quickly." All the Lambs said, +"Baa! Baaa!" in their high, soft voices, and their mothers said "Baa! +Baaa!" more loudly; and the Bell-Wether added his "Baa! Baaa!" which was +so deep and strong that it sounded like a little, very little, clap of +thunder.</p> + +<p>Collie came frisking along with his tail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> waving and his eyes gleaming. +He started the flock home, and scolded them and made fun of them all the +way, but they were now so happy that they didn't care what he said. When +they were safely in the home meadow again and the farmer had mended the +fence, Collie left them. As he turned to go, he called back one last +piece of advice.</p> + +<p>"I'm a Shepherd Dog," he said, "and it's my work to take care of Sheep +when they can't take care of themselves, but I'd just like to be a +Bell-Wether for a little while. You wouldn't catch me doing every +foolish thing I felt like doing and getting all the flock into trouble +by following me! Nobody can do anything without somebody else doing it +too, and I wouldn't lead people into trouble and then say I didn't +think. Bow-wow-wow-wow!"</p> + +<p><a name="COLLIE" id="COLLIE"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img170.jpg" + alt="COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER" /><br /> + <b>COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER.</b> + </div> + + +<p>The Bell-Wether grumbled to himself, "Well, the rest needn't tag along +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>unless they want to. Pity if I can't jump a fence without everybody +following." But down in his heart he felt mean, for he knew that one who +leads should do right things.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img187.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP</h2> + + +<p>The Mice were having a great frolic in the corn-crib. The farmer's man +had carelessly left a board leaning up against it in such a way that +they could walk right up and through one of the big cracks in the side. +It was the first time that some of them had ever been here. When the +farmer built the crib, he had put a tin pan, open side down, on top of +each of the wooden posts, and had then nailed the floor beams of the +crib through these pans. That had kept the hungry Mice from getting into +the corn.</p> + +<p>This was a great day for them, and their gnawing-teeth would certainly +be worn down enough without giving them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> any extra wear. That, you know, +is one thing about which all Rats and Mice have to be very careful, for +their front teeth are growing all the time, and they have to gnaw hard +things every day to keep them from becoming too long.</p> + +<p>There was only one thing that ever really troubled these Mice, and that +was the Cat. They did not feel afraid of Hawks and Owls because they +lived indoors. Weasels did not often come up to the barn, and men made +so much noise when they were around that any wide-awake Mouse could +easily keep out of their way. With the Cat it was different. She was +always prowling around in the night-time, just when they had their +finest parties; and many a young Mouse had been scared away from a +midnight supper by seeing her eyes glowing like balls of fire in the +darkness. By daylight it was not so bad, for they could see her coming, +and besides, she slept much of the time then.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were talking about her when in the corn-crib. "Have any of you seen +the Cat to-day?" asked the Oldest Mouse.</p> + +<p>Nobody answered. Then one young fellow, who was always worrying, said: +"Supposing she should come out of the barn now! Supposing she should +come right toward this corn-crib! Supposing she should stand right under +the floor! Supposing she should catch us as we jumped down! +Supposing——"</p> + +<p>But here the other young Mice all squeaked to him to stop, and one of +them declared that it made her fur stand on end to think of it. The +Oldest Mouse spoke quite sharply. "Supposing," said he to the first +young Mouse, "you should eat more and talk less. There are enough +pleasant things to speak about without scaring all your friends in this +way."</p> + +<p>The young Mouse who said that her fur stood on end couldn't eat anything +more,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> she was so frightened. "What could we do," she said, "if the Cat +should come?"</p> + +<p>"Stay right where we are," answered her mother. "She couldn't reach us +with the door closed. Now go on with your eating and don't be foolish."</p> + +<p>A Rat ran up the board. "Good-morning," said he. "Have you heard the +news?"</p> + +<p>"No, no!" cried the Mice, hurrying to that side of the corn-crib, and +peeping through the crack.</p> + +<p>"The Yellow Kitten has been hunting with her mother, and they say that +her brother is going to-night."</p> + +<p>"Well," said a mother Mouse, "I knew we would have to expect it, but I +did hope they would wait a while. Now, children," she added, "do be +careful! I know that when you are looking for food you have to go into +dangerous places, but don't stop there to talk or to clean your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> fur. +Find safe corners for that, or I shall worry about you all the time."</p> + +<p>"We will," squeaked all the little Mice together. "We will be very, very +careful."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for the news," said the Oldest Mouse to the Rat. "We will try +to send you word of new dangers when we hear of them."</p> + +<p>The Rat, who was a fine young fellow, ran down the board and away. They +could not ask him in to lunch, because he was too large and stout to +squeeze through the cracks, but he understood how it was, and knew that +he could find food elsewhere. Now he ran to the Pig-pen to snatch a +share of the breakfast which the farmer had just left there. He often +did this as soon as the farmer went away, and the Pigs never troubled +him. Perhaps that was because they knew that if they drove him away when +he came alone, he would bring all his sisters and his cousins and his +aunts, and his brothers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> and his uncles too, the next time, and would +eat every bit of food they had.</p> + +<p>After he had taken a hearty breakfast, he ran under the edge of the barn +to clean himself. He was always very particular about this. His mother +had taught him when very small that he must keep his fur well brushed +and his face washed, and he did it just as a Cat would, by wetting his +paws and scrubbing his face and the top of his head. He brushed his fur +coat with his paws also.</p> + +<p>While he was here, one of his cousins came from the barn above. She ran +down the inside of the wall, head foremost, and her hind feet were +turned around until they pointed backward. That let her hold on with her +long, sharp claws, quite as a Squirrel does, and kept her from tumbling. +She was much out of breath when she reached the ground, but it was not +from running.</p> + +<p>"What do you think that farmer has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> done now?" she cried. "It was bad +enough for him to nail tin over the holes we gnawed into his grain-bins, +but this is worse still. It needn't make us so much trouble, but it +hurts my feelings."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked her cousin.</p> + +<p>"A trap!" said she. "A horrible, shining trap. The Rat from the other +farm told me about it. It lies open and flat on the floor of a +grain-bin,—the very one you and I gnawed into last night,—and there is +a lovely piece of cheese in the middle of it. The Rat who told me about +it says that as soon as one touches the cheese, the trap springs shut on +him."</p> + +<p>"Bah!" exclaimed the young Rat who had just eaten breakfast in the +Pig-pen. "Let it stay there! We don't have to touch it, although I do +mean to look at it some time. I believe in knowing about things."</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't look at it," said his cousin, who was very fond of +him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Rat from the other farm says it is very dangerous to even look at +traps, especially if your stomach is empty."</p> + +<p>"Then the Rat from the other farm might better keep away," said this +young fellow, as he put one paw up to see that his whiskers were all +right. "I don't think very much of him anyway. He thinks he knows +everything because he has travelled. I wish you would have nothing to do +with him. I dare say you were in the grain-bin with him when you saw the +trap."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she, "I was."</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "you both got away safely, and I shall too. I may not +be very clever, but I think I do know enough to keep out of a trap." +Then he turned into his hole and went to sleep. He had been running +around all night, and was very tired. He was cross, too. This was the +second time that his cousin had told him what the Rat from the other +farm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> had said, and he thought she liked him altogether too well.</p> + +<p>When he awakened, it was night again and he was aroused by the stamping +of the Dappled Gray on the floor above his head. For a minute he could +hardly think where he was. Then it all came to him. He was in his own +cozy little hole under the barn, and it was night. He remembered +something about the Yellow Kitten. What was it? Oh yes, she had begun +hunting. Well, he was not afraid of her yet. But there was something +else—the trap! He wondered if his cousin were in that bin again. As +like as not her friend, the Rat from the other farm, was showing her the +trap now. He would go up there himself, and at once, too.</p> + +<p>He ran up the wall, through an opening, and across the barn floor to the +grain-bin. It was a moonlight night and the barn was not very dark. The +cover of the bin was raised. Perhaps the farmer's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> man had forgotten to +close it. Perhaps there was so little grain left in it that the man +didn't care to. At any rate, he could now see the trap quite plainly. +There was nobody else in the bin, and he went close to it.</p> + +<p>"I would not touch it for anything," said he, as he entered the bin, +"but it will not hurt me to look at it."</p> + +<p>When he went nearer, he was very careful to see that his tail did not +even brush against the chain which held the trap down. "So that is the +terrible, dangerous trap?" said he. "It doesn't look particularly +dreadful. That is fine-smelling cheese though." He sniffed two or three +times. "I have tasted cheese only once in my whole life," said he, "and +I am almost starved now. I wouldn't mind a nibble at that." He looked at +it and thought about it until it seemed to him he could not go away and +leave that cheese there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then he thought, "If I am very careful to step over these shining steel +things and rest my feet only on the floor, it cannot spring the trap. +Then I will snatch the cheese and jump.... I am pretty sure I can do +it.... Why, yes, I know I can." So the Rat who had come just to look at +the trap, began to lift first one foot and then another over the shining +curved bars, and got all ready to catch up the cheese and run.</p> + +<p>"Now!" he cried. "One, two, three!" He did snatch it and jump, but the +trap jumped, too, in its own trappy way, and the Rat who got the cheese +left the three tip rings of his tail to pay for it. "Ouch!" he cried. +"My tail! My tail! My beautiful, long, bony tail, all covered with +scales and short hair!" He did not care at all for the cheese now. He +did not want to see it, for he would rather have had the point on his +tail again than to eat a whole binful of cheese.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How it will look!" said he. "So stumpy and blunt. And it has been so +very useful always. I could wind it around a stick to hold myself up +when my paws were full, and many a time I have rolled eggs across the +floor by curling it around them." Then he heard Rat voices and scampered +out and down to his own hole.</p> + +<p>His cousin and the Rat from the other farm came into the bin. "Don't +look at the trap," he was saying, "but just eat your grain from the +farther corner."</p> + +<p>"I won't," she answered, and she half closed her eyes to keep from +seeing it. He was beside her and they stumbled over the cheese, which +now lay on the floor away from the trap. "How does this happen?" said +he. "We will eat it first and then find out." By this advice he showed +that he was a Rat of excellent sense.</p> + +<p>When they had eaten it, they began to look toward the trap. As there was +no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> longer any cheese in it to tempt them, they felt perfectly safe in +doing so. They found that it had been sprung, and there lay the last +three rings of some Rat's tail.</p> + +<p>"How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "I hope that was not lost by any of our +friends."</p> + +<p>"Hum-hum!" said the Rat from the other farm. "Now, whom have I seen +wearing that? I have certainly seen that tail before—it was your +cousin!"</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow!" said she. "I must go to see him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't go now," cried the Rat from the other farm. "I think he might +want to be alone for a while. Besides," he added coaxingly, "you haven't +tasted of the grain yet, and it is very good."</p> + +<p>"W-well," answered she, "perhaps my cousin would just as soon not have +me come now." So she waited, and the Rat from the other farm told her +wonderful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> stories of his travels, and they had a very fine supper.</p> + +<p>When her cousin began to run around again, he was a much sadder and +wiser Rat. Sometimes the younger Rats would ask him how he lost the tip +of his tail. "By not turning it toward a tempting danger," he would +answer, very solemnly. Then, after he had told them the story, he always +added, "The time to turn your tail toward a tempting danger is the +minute you see it, for if you wait and look and long for something you +ought not to take, there is sure to be trouble, and many a Rat has lost +more than the tip of his tail in just that way."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img009.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER</h2> + + + +<p>There was only one Gobbler on the farm, and he was so used to having his +own way that he never tried to make the best of it when he couldn't, and +sometimes he became exceedingly cross. He was bigger than the Cocks, the +Hens, the Geese, and the Ducks, so when they were in his way and he +gobbled a gruff "Move along," they murmured "Oh, certainly," and +scampered away as fast as their legs would carry them. The Peacock was +larger than the Turkey Gobbler, it is true, but as long as he could sit +on a fence in the sunshine and have somebody admiring his train, he did +not care anything about the Gobbler, and they did not get in each +other's way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + +<p>There were seven Hen Turkeys, timid, sweet-tempered people, who were +fond of walking. They had never been known to answer back when the +Gobbler scolded them, although at times he was very unreasonable. This +was polite of them, but it made the Gobbler more careless than ever of +the way in which he spoke. The Black Spanish Hen said it made her +wattles tingle to hear him find fault with them. She wouldn't have stood +it—no, indeed!</p> + +<p>When the Black Spanish Cock heard her say so, he shook his feathers and +smiled a queer little smile, and said, "I certainly know that she would +not." The other fowls looked at each other, and the Shanghai Cock winked +his round little eyes at the Dorking Hen, and she had to oil a feather +on the under side of her wing just then, so, of course, nobody saw her +laugh—if she did laugh.</p> + +<p>The Black Spanish fowls were kind-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>hearted and honest, and had fine +manners, but they would not stand it to be spoken to hastily by any one +who was not very much bigger than they, and it was said that the Cock +had once—only once—but then, perhaps it would be just as well not to +tell what the other fowls had heard about their family quarrel, for, +after all, it did not come very straight, the Pigs having told the +Geese, and the Geese telling the Ducks, and the Ducks just mentioning it +to the Peacock, and the Peacock having spoken of it to the Dorking Hen.</p> + +<p>It was now late in the fall, and all the Turkeys went walking together +again. One would think that, after being separated from the rest all +summer and part of the spring, the Gobbler would have been very polite +when he joined them, but no; he was more quick-tempered than ever. He +was not fond of young Turkeys, and their constant chattering annoyed +him. "Can't you find some way to keep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> those children quiet?" he would +say, and made such a fuss that the Hen Turkeys called them aside and +tried to amuse them for a while.</p> + +<p>Hen Turkeys are most loving mothers, and in the early spring first one +and then another had stolen away to lay and hatch her eggs. If a Hen +Turkey wanted a chance to lay an egg at this season, she watched the +Gobbler and left the flock when his back was turned. As she came near +her nest, she would stop and look around to make sure he did not see +where it was. She knew that the Gobbler did not like to have her raise +young Turkeys, and that if he could find the nest, he would break every +egg in it. After she had laid her egg, she would wander back in a +careless way, quite as though she had only been to the watering-trough +for a drink.</p> + +<p>Once the Hen Turkeys had talked about this when the Gobbler could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +hear. "It doesn't seem right not to tell him," the youngest had said.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear," said another, "it is the only way we can do, if we want +to save our eggs and raise our children. Gobblers always act in that +way."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?" said the young Hen Turkey.</p> + +<p>"Sure!" was the answer. "You wouldn't be here to-day if your mother +hadn't done as we do."</p> + +<p>So the youngest Hen Turkey had changed her mind and hidden her eggs like +the rest, for, in spite of aching legs and all that is hard in hatching +eggs, Hen Turkeys always want to raise broods in the springtime. When +one of them had laid as many eggs as she wanted to hatch, she began +sitting on them, and would not walk with the flock at all. One by one +the Hen Turkeys had done this until the Gobbler was left quite alone. He +did not like it at all, and wanted more than ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> to find and break the +eggs. When the Turkey Chicks were hatched, their mothers kept them out +of the Gobbler's way, because, you know, he did not like small children +and it was better that they should not meet.</p> + +<p>The Hen Turkeys were very sorry for him, and often wished that he might +watch with them the growth of their piping darlings, to see the tiny +feathers push their way through the down and broaden and lengthen until +there was no down to be seen—only feathers. It was too bad; yet that +was the way in all Turkey families, and the Gobblers couldn't help +disliking the children any more than the Hen Turkeys could help wanting +to sit in the springtime.</p> + +<p>By another year the Gobbler would love the young Turkeys dearly. Even +now he did not try to strike them, as he might have done a while before. +They were afraid of him, yet down in their hearts the brothers all +thought that when they were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> grown up they wanted to be just like him +and strut around with their wings trailing, their tails spread, their +necks drawn back, and their feathers ruffled. Then, they thought, when +other people came near them, they would puff and gobble and cry, "Get +out of my way!" They tried it once in a while to see how it would seem, +but they were still slender and their voices were not yet deep enough. +The sisters laughed at them when they did this, and that made them feel +very uncomfortable. The long, limp red wattles that grew out between +their eyes became redder and redder as they swung to and fro under their +short, thick bills.</p> + +<p>"Just wait," said one young fellow to another. "Just you wait until I am +really grown up and strut before your sister next spring. I don't think +she will laugh at me then." And he comforted himself by eating fully +twice as much grain as he should have done.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p>The farmer's little girl came into the farmyard, and all the fowls +stopped eating to look at her. She was so young that she had never +before been out there alone. Her father had brought her in his arms, and +she had laughed with delight and clapped her little hands when the +farmyard people passed by her. Now she had slipped out of the house and +stood in the sunshine smiling at every one. She came without a cap, and +the wind blew her soft yellow curls around her rosy face. It fluttered +her red dress, too, and the Gobbler saw it and became exceedingly angry.</p> + +<p>"Red-red-red!" he cried. "Why in the world did she wear red? I hate it!" +He stalked toward her in his most disagreeable way, and you could tell +by the stiff brushing of his wing-tips on the ground that he was very +angry. "Get away from here!" he cried. "This is my home and little girls +can't wear red dresses when they visit me. Pffff! Get away!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>The little girl turned to run as the big Gobbler came puffing toward +her. In her fright she stumbled and fell, and he hurried forward to +strike her. The Black Spanish Cock began to ruffle his neck feathers and +stretch his head forward. He did not mean to have their visitor treated +so. He ran between the Gobbler's feet and they tumbled over together. +The little girl picked herself up and hurried into the house.</p> + +<p>If the Gobbler was angry before, he was much more so after his fall. +"What do you mean, sir," he said, "by tripping me?"</p> + +<p>"And what do you mean," said the Black Spanish Cock, "by knocking me +over?"</p> + +<p>"Pffff! You were under my feet."</p> + +<p>"Erruuuu! You were over my head."</p> + +<p>Now nobody had dared to disagree with the Gobbler in so long that he did +not know what to make of it, and when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>the Shanghai Cock strolled over +to help his friend, the Gobbler was fairly sputtering with rage. "Ah, +Gobbler," said the Shanghai, "wonder what has become of the little girl? +It was nice of her to come out here, and I wish she had stayed longer."</p> + +<p><a name="GOBBLER" id="GOBBLER"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img194.jpg" + alt="THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD HER" /><br /> + <b>THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD HER.</b> + </div> + + +<p>"I told her to get away," was the answer. "She had on a red dress. I +chased her. I always have chased anybody who wore red, and I always +shall. It's my way."</p> + +<p>"Is it your way, too, to be cross whenever you feel like it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. I wouldn't be cross when I didn't feel like it," answered +the Gobbler.</p> + +<p>"Some of us are not cross when we do feel like it," said the Dorking +Cock. "I am always happier for keeping my temper when I can."</p> + +<p>"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. "That is not my way. I say right out what I +think,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> and then I am all right again and forget all about it."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said the Bantam Hen. "I wonder if the other people forget as +soon? It would do him more good to remember it and feel sorry. He needs +a lesson." Then she stalked up to him, looking as brave as you please, +although she was really quite frightened. "I never noticed it before," +she cackled, "but the tuft of hairy feathers on your breast is +dreadfully ragged. And what very ugly looking feet you have! If I were +going to have any webs between my toes I should want good big ones like +those of the Ducks and Geese, not snippy little halfway webs like yours. +I hope you don't mind my speaking of it. I always say what I think. It's +just my way, and I never remember it afterward." She gave a graceful +flutter and a queer little squawk, and was off before the Gobbler got +over his surprise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fowls do enjoy a joke, and now the Dorking Cock took his turn. "I've +always wanted to know how you spread your tail in that fashion. It's a +good time to see." He walked up beside the Gobbler and pecked and pulled +until three feathers lay on the ground. "Ah," said the Dorking Cock, "I +see I loosened some of your tail feathers. I hope you don't mind. It is +just my way, when I want to know about anything, to find out as soon as +I can."</p> + +<p>And so one fowl after another teased and troubled the Gobbler, and +explained afterward that "it was just their way." Then they laughed at +him and ran off.</p> + +<p>It would be nice if one could say that the Gobbler never again lost his +temper, but he did, a great many times, for he should have begun to +master it when he was a Chick. But one can tell truly that he never +again excused his crossness by saying that "it was only his way." The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +youngest Duckling in the poultry-yard had always known that this was no +excuse at all, and that if people have disagreeable habits which make +others unhappy, it is something of which they should be much ashamed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img010.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE BRAGGING PEACOCK</h2> + + +<p>The farmyard people will never forget the coming of the Peacock; or +rather they will never forget the first day that he spent with them. He +came in the evening after all the fowls had gone to roost, and their +four-legged friends were dozing comfortably in meadow and pasture +corners, so nobody saw him until the next morning.</p> + +<p>You can imagine how surprised they were when a beautiful great fowl of +greenish-blue strutted across the yard, holding his head well in the air +and dragging his splendid train behind him. The fowls were just starting +out for their daily walks, and they stopped and held one foot in the +air, and stared and stared and stared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> They did not mean to be rude, +but they were so very much surprised that they did not think what they +were doing. Most of them thought they were asleep and dreaming, and the +dream was such a beautiful one that they did not want to move and break +it off. They had never seen a Peacock and did not even know that there +was such a fowl.</p> + +<p>A Lamb by the pasture fence called to his mother. "Ba-baa!" cried he. +"One of the cloud-birds is walking in the farmyard." He was thinking of +the night of the storm, when all the Sheep and Lambs huddled together in +the meadow and watched the clouds, and thought that they were birds and +dropped shining worms from their beaks.</p> + +<p>Then the Peacock, who understood the Sheep language perfectly, said, +"Paon! I am no cloud-bird. I am a Peacock." He said this in a very +haughty way, as though to be a Peacock were the grandest thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> in the +world, far better than having one's home in the sky and bringing showers +to refresh the thirsty earth-people.</p> + +<p>The Turkey Gobbler never could stand it to have others speak in that way +when he was around, so he thought he would show the newcomer how +important he was. He drew up his neck and puffed out his chest; he +pulled his skin muscles by thinking about them, and that made his +feathers stand on end; next he dropped his wings until their tips +touched the ground; then he slowly spread his tail. "Pffff!" said he. "I +am no Peacock. I am a Turkey Gobbler."</p> + +<p>The Hen Turkeys looked at each other with much pride. They were a little +afraid of him themselves, but they liked to have him show the newcomer +that Turkeys are important people. Their children looked at each other +and murmured, "Isn't the Gobbler fine though? Guess the Peacock will +wish now that he hadn't put on airs."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the Peacock did not seem to feel at all sorry. He stood and looked +at them all without saying a word, and they all wondered what he was +thinking. Then a Duckling who stood near him exclaimed, "Look at his +train! Oh, look at his train!" Everybody looked and saw all those +beautiful long feathers rising into the air. Up and up they went, and +spreading as they rose, until there was a wonderful great circle of them +back of his body and reaching far above his head. The Gobbler's spread +tail looked as small beside this as a Dove's egg would beside that of a +Goose.</p> + +<p>"Paon!" said the Peacock. "I am no Turkey Gobbler. I am a Peacock."</p> + +<p>"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. Then he turned to the Hen Turkeys. "My +dears," he said, "I think it is time that we walked along. The children +should not be allowed to see and speak with any stray fowl that comes +along. We cannot be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> too particular about that." Then he stalked off, +with the meek Hen Turkeys following and the children lagging behind. +They did so want to stay and see the Peacock, and they thought the +Ducklings and Goslings were much luckier than they.</p> + +<p>The Geese were delighted with the newcomer, and hoped he would be quite +friendly with them. They wished he were a swimmer, but of course they +could tell with one look that he was not. He did not have the trim, +boat-shaped body that swimmers have, and then, his feet were not webbed. +The Gander noticed that they were remarkably homely feet. He thought he +would remember this and speak of it to the Geese some time when they +were praising the Peacock's train.</p> + +<p>The Drake was the first to speak politely to the Peacock. "We are glad +to meet you, sir," he said. "Will you be with us long?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thank you," answered the Peacock. "I have come to stay."</p> + +<p>"We hope you will like it here. I'm sorry to see you do not swim. We +should be very glad of your company if you did. You will excuse us if we +go on to the brook. We are late already." He and all of his family +waddled away to the water. "A fine-looking fellow," said he heartily. +"Even my cousins, the Mallard Ducks, have not such a beautiful sheen on +their neck feathers." The Drake was a kind, warm-hearted fellow, and it +never troubled him to know that other people were handsomer than he.</p> + +<p>The Geese were eager to reach the water, too, but they could not leave +without asking one question. First they told the Gander to ask it, but +he replied that if they wanted to know, they should ask it for +themselves. Then they hung back and said to each other, "You ask him. I +can't." At last the Gray Goose stepped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> forward, saying, "Excuse us, +sir. You said that you were to stay with us, and we wish to know if you +work for your living."</p> + +<p>"I work!" cried he. "Paon! Never. The farmer invited me here to be +beautiful, that is all."</p> + +<p>"We are so glad," cackled the Geese, and the Gander joined with them. +"So many of the people here work. They are very good, but not at all +genteel, you understand."</p> + +<p>"And don't you do anything?" asked the Peacock. "I thought Geese grew +feathers for beds and pillows. It seems to me you look rather ragged. +Haven't you been plucked?"</p> + +<p>This was very embarrassing to the Geese. "Why, yes," they said, "we do +let the farmer's wife have some feathers once in a while, when the +weather is warm, but that is very different from really working, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said the Peacock. "If they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> want any of my feathers, they can +wait until I moult. Then you will see how much they think of me, for +whenever they find one of my train feathers (not tail, if you please; +every bird has a tail, but I have a train) they carry it carefully into +the house to be made into a duster for the parlor. I never give away any +but my cast-off plumage. I am so very, very beautiful that I do not have +to work."</p> + +<p>This impressed the Geese very much. "We are glad to know you. Quite +honored, we assure you!"</p> + +<p>The Peacock bowed his crested head, and they bowed their uncrested and +very silly ones, and then they went to the river. The Peacock thought +them most agreeable, because they admired him, and they thought him the +best sort of acquaintance, because he didn't work. It was all very +foolish, but there are always foolish people in the world, you know, and +it is much better to be amused by it and a little sorry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> for them, than +for us to lose our tempers and become cross about it. That was the way +the Shanghais, Black Spanish, Dorking, and Bantam fowls felt. They were +polite enough to the newcomer, but they did not run after him. The +Chickens used to laugh when the Peacock uttered his cry of "Paon! Paon!" +His voice was harsh and disagreeable, and it did seem so funny to hear +such dreadful sounds coming from such a lovely throat.</p> + +<p>The Black Spanish Cock reproved the Chickens sharply for this. "It is +very rude," said he, "to laugh at people for things they cannot help. +How would you like to have a Lamb follow you around and bleat, 'Look at +that Chicken! He has only two legs! Hello, little two-legs; how can you +walk?' It is just as bad for you to laugh at his harsh voice, because he +cannot help it. If he should say foolish and silly things, you might +laugh, because he could help that if he tried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> Don't ever again let me +hear you laughing when he is just saying 'Paon.'"</p> + +<p>The Chickens minded the Black Spanish Cock, for they knew he was right +and that he did not do rude things himself. They remembered everything +he said, too.</p> + +<p>One day the Peacock was standing on the fence alone. He did this most of +the time. He usually stood with his back to the farmyard, so that people +who passed could see his train but not his feet. A party of young fowls +of all families came along. Their mothers had let them go off by +themselves, and they stopped to look at the Peacock.</p> + +<p>"I do think you have the most beautiful tail, sir," said a Duckling, +giving her own little pointed one a sideways shake as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Please call it my train," said the Peacock. "It is beautiful and I am +very proud of it. Not every fowl can grow such a train as that."</p> + +<p><a name="PEACOCK" id="PEACOCK"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img208.jpg" + alt="THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE" /><br /> + <b>THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE.</b> + </div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no!" giggled a jolly little Bantam Chicken. "I'd grow one in +a minute if I could."</p> + +<p>This made all the other young fowls laugh, for they thought how funny +the little brown Bantam would look dragging around a great mass of +feathers like that.</p> + +<p>The Peacock did not even smile. He never understood a joke anyway. He +was always so busy thinking about himself that he couldn't see the +point. Now he cleared his throat and spoke to the Bantam Chicken.</p> + +<p>"I hope you don't think that I grew my train in a minute," said he. "It +took me a long, long time, although I kept all the feathers going at +once."</p> + +<p>"Look at his crest!" exclaimed one young Turkey in his piping voice.</p> + +<p>The Peacock turned his head so that they could see it more plainly. +"That is a crest to be proud of," he said. "I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> never seen a finer +one myself. Have you noticed the beauty of my neck?"</p> + +<p>"Charming!" "Wonderful!" "Beautiful!" exclaimed the young fowls. Just +then one of the spoiled Dove children flew down from the barn roof and +sat beside the Peacock.</p> + +<p>"What homely feet you have!" this Squab exclaimed. "Are you not +dreadfully ashamed of them?"</p> + +<p>The young fowls thought this rude. Not one of them would have said it. +The Peacock became very angry. "I know my feet are not so handsome as +they might be," he said, "but that is no reason why I should be ashamed +of them. I couldn't help having that kind of feet. They run in my +family. I don't feel ashamed of things I can't help."</p> + +<p>The young fowls felt so uncomfortable after this that they walked away, +and the Squab flew back to the Dove-cote. For a time nobody spoke. Then +a Gosling,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> who had heard her mother talk about the Peacock, said, "I +should think he would be proud of his train, and his crest, and his +neck, and—and everything!"</p> + +<p>"Everything except his feet," giggled the Bantam Chicken, "and you know +he couldn't help having them."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if he could help having his train, and his crest, and his +neck, and—and everything?" said a young Turkey.</p> + +<p>They all stopped where they were. "We never thought of that!" they +cried. "We never thought of that!"</p> + +<p>"Let's go and ask the Blind Horse," said a Duckling. "He is a good +friend of mine, and he knows almost everything."</p> + +<p>They stalked and waddled over to the Blind Horse, and the Duckling told +him what was puzzling them. The Blind Horse laughed very heartily. "So +the Peacock is proud of having grown such a fine train and crest, but he +isn't ashamed of his homely feet, because he couldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> help having +those! There is no reason for either pride or shame with the Peacock. He +has just such a body as was given him, and he couldn't make one feather +grow differently if he tried."</p> + +<p>"I don't see what anybody can be proud of, then," said a Gosling sadly; +for, you see, she wanted to be proud of something.</p> + +<p>"Be proud of what you have done yourself," said the Blind Horse gently. +"Be proud of keeping clean, or of telling the truth, or of speaking +pleasantly when things go wrong. There are plenty of chances to be proud +in a good way, if one must be proud."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img021.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN</h2> + + +<p>"Well," said the Gobbler, "I should like to know what next! Last spring +it was the White Pig, when we had never had any but black and brown ones +on the place. Next it was Ducks, because one of the farmer's boys wanted +them. Then it was the Peacock, to please the farmer's wife. Now it is +Guinea Fowls for the farmer's other son. Society isn't what it used to +be here, and while some of the new people may be very pleasant, I must +say that I preferred the good old quiet days."</p> + +<p>"I think it is lovely," cackled the cheerful little Bantam Hen. "One +hears so much of the world outside, and for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> people like myself, who +stay at home, that is a good thing. Everybody loved the White Pig before +she had been here two days, and my children are very fond of the +Ducklings. I like to have them together, too, for after I had told them +positively that my Chickens could not go in swimming, they stopped +teasing and became most delightful playmates."</p> + +<p>"What would you say about the Peacock?" asked the Shanghai Cock, who had +never been friendly with him, although, to tell the truth, the Shanghai +Cock was not so grumpy as he used to be.</p> + +<p>"Er—er—well," said the Bantam Hen, who tried not to say unpleasant +things about people unless she really had to, "he—he is certainly +beautiful, although I can't say that I am fond of hearing him sing."</p> + +<p>This made all the fowls laugh, even the Gobbler looking a little smiling +around the beak on the side where his hanging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> wattle did not hide his +face. When the Hen Turkeys on the smiling side saw that he was pleased, +they began to smile too; and then the Hen Turkeys on the other side, who +hadn't been sure that it was safe for them to do so, smiled also. And it +did them all a great deal of good.</p> + +<p>"I didn't see the Guinea Fowls," said one of the Geese. "We were +swimming when they came. How do they look? Are they handsomely dressed? +We shall not call upon them unless they are our kind of people." It was +some time since their last plucking for the season, and the Geese were +growing more airy every day now.</p> + +<p>"They are really very peculiar," said the Black Spanish Hen, "and not at +all common-looking. I should call them decidedly genteel." Here the +Geese looked at each other and nodded. They were always talking about +being genteel, although if you had asked them, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> might not have been +able to tell what they meant by the word. "They are shaped quite like +small Hen Turkeys," added the Black Spanish Hen "and their feathers are +a dark bluish-gray with round white spots all over them. They do not +wear any feathers on top of their heads. When I saw the first one, I +thought she must have lost hers in an accident, but after the others +came up, I knew it must be the custom in their family."</p> + +<p>"And they are shaped like us?" asked the Hen Turkeys all together. They +were thinking that perhaps the Black Spanish Hen would call them +genteel-looking also, but she didn't.</p> + +<p>"Very much like you," she replied. "In fact, I think they said something +about being related to your family, although I am not sure. Do you +remember, dear?" she said, turning to the Black Spanish Cock.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he answered. "The Guinea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> Hen with the orange-colored legs +said that their family was related to both the Turkeys and the Peacocks, +and that they were pleased to see members of those families here."</p> + +<p>"Gobble-gobble-gobble," called the Gobbler to the Hen Turkeys. "You must +call upon our relatives as soon as you can. I will go later. I always +wait to find out more about strangers before calling. It is my way." He +didn't stop to think that if everybody waited as long as he did, the +strangers would be very lonely.</p> + +<p>After this, they scattered to feed, and the Hen Turkeys and their +children looked for the Guinea Fowls. "Listen," said one, "and we may +hear them talking to each other." They stood still, with their heads +well up and turned a little to one side. They heard a harsh voice +saying, "Ca-mac! Ca-mac!" and as none of their old friends ever said +"Ca-mac!" they knew at once that it was one of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> newcomers. They +walked around the corner of the Sheep-shed, and there found them, a +Guinea Cock and two Guinea Hens. One of the Guinea Hens had +orange-colored legs, while the others had dark grayish-brown ones.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning," said the Hen Turkeys. "Are you the Guinea Fowls?"</p> + +<p>"We are," said the one with the bright-colored legs, "and you are the +Turkeys, are you not?"</p> + +<p>"We are the Hen Turkeys," said they, "and these are our children. The +Gobbler didn't feel that he could come with us this morning, but he will +come later. He got very tired in Grasshopper season and is hardly over +it yet."</p> + +<p>"That is too bad," said the Guinea Cock politely. "We hope he will soon +be better. It is a hard time for all Turkeys—so much running to and +fro, besides the stretching of the neck whenever a Grasshopper comes +near."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps he overate somewhat," said one of the Hen Turkeys. "We were +quite worried about him for a time. He slept so poorly and dreamed that +he was being chased. He always has a good appetite, and you know how it +is when there is so much food around. One cannot let it alone."</p> + +<p>So they chatted on about one thing and another, and walked as they +visited. The Guinea Fowls were more fussy and restless than the Turkeys, +and even when they were speaking would run after some dainty bit of food +that had just caught their eyes. Of course the Hen Turkeys said how glad +they were to have the Guinea Fowls come there to live, and hoped that +they would enjoy their new home. All of the farmyard people thought it a +most delightful place.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," cried the Guinea Hen with the bright-colored legs, "it is +very pleasant, of course, but I wish you could see the farm we left."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why! Was it better than this?" asked the Turkey Chicks, crowding around +her. They were so surprised that they forgot their mothers' telling them +that if they came they must be very quiet, and making them all repeat +together, "Little Turkeys should be seen and not heard."</p> + +<p>"Better? My dears, it was not to be spoken of in the same breath. I +understand that when one has always lived here, this may seem very nice, +but when one has known better things, it is hard to be contented."</p> + +<p>"Still, we shall be very happy here, I am sure," said the other Guinea +Hen, the one with the brown legs. "People all seem so bright and +pleasant. I like it very much indeed."</p> + +<p>"We are glad of that," said the Turkeys all together. "We really must be +going. We fear we have stayed too long already. The Gobbler will wonder +if we are never coming back. Good-morning."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>As they walked off to look for him, one Hen Turkey said to another, "It +must be hard to come here after living on that farm."</p> + +<p>"Yes," was the answer, "I suppose that we don't really know what comfort +is here."</p> + +<p>When the Gobbler asked them about the Guinea Fowls, and how they were +enjoying their new home, the Hen Turkeys sighed and answered, "Oh, as +well as they can enjoy this farm, we suppose." The Gobbler was a little +surprised by this reply, but he said nothing, and as he pecked at the +corn which had just been spilled from the load the Oxen were drawing, he +thought, "I wish we could have better corn to eat. This does not taste +quite as it should."</p> + +<p>When the Geese met the Guinea Fowls, they began to speak of the pleasure +of living on such a fine farm. "Ah," said the Guinea Hen with the +bright-colored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> legs, "how I wish you might see the one we left when we +came here. It was so different."</p> + +<p>The other Guinea Fowls looked uncomfortable when she spoke in this way, +and stood first on one foot and then on the other. Then the Cock said +something about the sunshiny fall weather, and the good neighbors, +and—and——</p> + +<p>The Gander spoke again of the farm. "It is not all that we could wish," +said he; "still there are some good things about it. There are several +swimming places which are fine and cold in winter."</p> + +<p>"If it were only better cared for," said the Gray Goose. "I had a +dreadful time a while ago, when I tried to get through a hole in the +fence. I don't remember what was the matter with the hole, and perhaps I +never knew, but the farmer should have such things fixed. My neck was +lame for days afterward, and he was wholly to blame."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<p>After this, the Geese found fault with almost everything, and when there +was no one thing to grumble about, they sighed because, "It was so +different from what it might be." It was not long before even the spring +Chickens, the Goslings, and the Ducklings were speaking in the same way, +and the poultry-yard was a most doleful place. The Bantam Hen was the +only really cheerful fowl there, and she got so tired of hearing the +rest sigh and grumble, that she often slipped between the pickets of the +fence and went to have a comfortable chat with the Oxen.</p> + +<p>One day she fluttered toward them in a most excited manner. "Do I look +nearly crazy?" said she. "I feel so. Ever since our last storm, the +Guinea Fowls have been shut in with us, and I would give half of my +tail-feathers if they had never come here. That one with the +orange-colored legs can't see good in anything, and all of our steady, +sensible fowls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> have heard it until they begin to believe that this farm +is a wretched place."</p> + +<p>"What do they do?" asked the Nigh Ox, who always enjoyed hearing the +Bantam Hen talk.</p> + +<p>"Do?" said she, shaking her dainty little head. "They don't do much of +anything. That is what is the matter, and the young fowls are the worst +of all. You know how it used to be at feeding time? We all fluttered and +squabbled for the first chance at the food. Some Hen got the biggest +piece, and then the rest would chase her from one corner to another, and +not give her a chance to break and swallow any of it until she would +share with them. It was great fun, and we never left a scrap uneaten. +Now, what do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Can't imagine," exclaimed the Oxen in one breath.</p> + +<p>"Well, they all stand around on one foot for a while, and I am the only +one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> eating. Then somebody says, 'I wonder if this is any better than +the last we had.' Another will groan, 'Oh, is it time to eat again?' or, +'Suppose I must eat something to keep up my strength.' Then I hear the +bright-legged Guinea Hen say, 'Ca-mac! Ca-mac! This is all so different, +so very different from what I have been used to.' The Cock and the other +Hen of that family are nice enough if you only get them away from her."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!" exclaimed the Oxen together, and they spoke quite +sharply for them.</p> + +<p>"I wish," said the Bantam Hen very slowly, and as though she meant every +word—"I wish the bright-legged one were back where it was 'so +different.' Perhaps then my friends would begin to act like themselves."</p> + +<p>"Where did she come from?" asked the Off Ox. "It seems to me that I saw +a bright-legged Guinea Hen somewhere<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> not long ago." He thought very +hard, so hard that he swallowed his cud without knowing he did so.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it at the place where we took that load of stone the other day?" +asked the Nigh Ox, trying to help his brother. He knew how disagreeable +it is not to be able to recall anything of that sort.</p> + +<p>"It was," cried the Off Ox; "and a very poor farm it is. It was the same +Hen too. Talk about its being different! I should say it was different +from this place, but there are a good many ways of being different. +Um-hum! I think I will talk with the discontented Guinea Hen before +long, and I want you to see that the other fowls are listening when I +do."</p> + +<p>Although he would say nothing more, the Bantam Hen saw from the look in +his eyes that he meant to stop the Guinea Hen's complaining, so she went +away feeling happier. Then the Off Ox unswallowed his cud and began to +chew it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> as though nothing had happened. His brother heard him chuckle +once in a while, and say, "Different!" under his breath.</p> + +<p>When the Off Ox awakened from time to time during that night and heard +the Guinea Hens talking in the dark, he chuckled again to himself. The +Guinea Cock was a sound sleeper, but the Hens always talked a great deal +between sunset and sunrise, and especially if it were about to rain. +Other people thought that they might talk more in the daytime and then +keep quiet when their neighbors wanted to sleep. They declared that they +always remembered so many things to say as soon as they went to roost, +and that if they waited until morning they might forget more than half.</p> + +<p>The very next day, the Off Ox had the chance he wanted. He and his +brother were yoked to the stone-boat and left standing by the +poultry-yard. "Good-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>afternoon," said he. "Is the bright-legged Guinea +Hen here?"</p> + +<p>"I am," she answered, coming close to the pickets.</p> + +<p>"We are just going over to your old home," said he, "with this load of +stone. Have you any messages to send to your friends?"</p> + +<p>The Guinea Hen looked rather uncomfortable, and stood first on one foot +and then the other. "Tell them I am well," said she.</p> + +<p>"I will," said the Off Ox, in his hearty way. "I will try to tell them +all. I think I can, too, for there did not seem to be many people in +that farmyard. I didn't see Ducks or Geese at all. Are there any living +there?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the Guinea Hen. She did not seem to think of anything else to +say, although nobody spoke for a long time.</p> + +<p>"Of course not!" exclaimed the Off Ox.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> "How stupid of me to ask. There +is no brook or river on that farm."</p> + +<p>Still the Guinea Hen said nothing.</p> + +<p>"We are dragging stone for their new barn," said the Off Ox. "Or perhaps +I should say for their barn. One could hardly say that they have any +yet, although I suppose they use those loosely built sheds for barns. I +wonder people can spend a winter where there are such drafts; still, +home is always home, and people love it for that reason. We are glad to +have your family with us, not only to keep away the Crows (which was +part of the Guinea Fowls' work), but because you will be more +comfortable. I've never yet in all my travels seen so good a farm as +this, and the one you left was so different! Good-bye."</p> + +<p>There was not much talking in the poultry-yard the rest of the +afternoon, although most of the fowls looked happier than they had for +many days. When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> supper-time came, the Dorking Hen snatched the biggest +pieces of food, and the others chased her from corner to corner in quite +the old way. Every scrap was eaten, and nobody laughed when the Shanghai +Cock said that the fine weather had given him a better appetite. It was +really a dark and chilly day, but they had stopped thinking how much +better off they would be if they only lived somewhere else. As soon as +they stopped thinking that, they could see how well they were cared for +at home. And so, although nobody had really looked at the sky or thought +about the weather, everybody had a feeling that the sun must have been +shining.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the Guinea Cock and the other Guinea Hen were the happiest of +all, for they had not known what to do or say when the bright-legged one +talked about her old home. It all seemed like a joke now, yet she never +liked the Off Ox after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> that day. The other fowls were as nice to her as +ever, for they knew it was a sad thing to be so discontented, and they +knew, also, that if they had not been foolish enough to let her, she +could never have made them unhappy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img029.jpg" alt="Page header" title="Page header" /></div> + +<h2>THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES</h2> + + +<p>It was a clear, cold winter morning, and the Cattle stood in the +barnyard where the great yellow straw-stacks were. They had nibbled away +at the lower part of these stacks until there was a sheltered place +underneath. The Calves liked to stand on the sunshiny side with an +over-hanging ledge of straw above their heads. The wind did not strike +them here, and they could reach up and pull out wisps to eat when they +had nothing else to do. Not that they were so fond of eating straw, but +it was fun to pull it out. There was, however, usually something else to +be done, for there was always their cud to chew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>Among all the farmyard people, there were none more particular about +their food. They might eat in a hurry when time was short, or when the +grass was fresh and green, but after they had swallowed it and filled +the first of their four stomachs with partly chewed food, they would +find some quiet and comfortable place where they could stand or lie +easily and finish their eating. To do this, they had to bring the partly +chewed food from the first stomach to the mouth again. They called this +"unswallowing it," although they should have said "regurgitating."</p> + +<p>After the food was back in their mouths again, it was spoken of as their +cud, and the stout muscles in the sides of their faces pulled their +lower jaws up and down and sideways, and the food was caught over and +over again between the blunt grinding teeth in the back part of their +mouths, and was crushed, squeezed, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> turned until it was fine, soft, +and ready to swallow into the second stomach.</p> + +<p>Then the Cattle do not have to think of it again, but while they are +doing something quite different, and perhaps forgetting all about it, +there are many nerves and muscles and fine red blood-drops as busy as +can be, passing it into the third and fourth stomachs, and changing the +strength of the food into the strength of the Cattle. The Cows and the +Oxen do not know this. They never heard of muscles and nerves, and +perhaps you never did before, yet these are wonderful little helpers and +good friends if one is kind to them. All that Cattle know about eating +is that they must have clean food, that they must eat because they are +hungry and not just because it tastes good, and that they must chew it +very carefully. And if they do these things as they should, they are +quite sure to be well and comfortable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Oxen were standing by the barn door, and the Calves were talking +about them. They liked their uncles, the Oxen, very much, but like many +other Calves the world over, they thought them rather slow and +old-fashioned. Now the Colts had been saying the same thing, and so +these half-dozen shaggy youngsters, who hadn't a sign of a horn, were +telling what they would do if they were Oxen. Sometimes they spoke more +loudly than they meant to, and the Oxen heard them, but they did not +know this.</p> + +<p>"If I were an Ox," said one, "I wouldn't stand still and let the farmer +put that heavy yoke on my neck. I'd edge away and kick."</p> + +<p>"Tell you what I'd do," said another. "I'd stand right still when he +tried to make me go, and I wouldn't stir until I got ready."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't do that," said a third. "I'd run away and upset the stone in +a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> ditch. I don't think it's fair to always make them pull the heavy +loads while the Horses have all the fun of taking the farmer to town and +drawing the binder and all the other wonderful machines."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it too bad that you are not Oxen?" said a deep voice behind them. +The Calves jumped, and there was the Off Ox close to them. He was so +near that you could not have set a Chicken coop between him and them, +and he had heard every word. The Calves did not know where to look or +what to say, for they had not been speaking very politely. The one who +had just spoken wanted to act easy and as though he did not care, so he +raised one hind hoof to scratch his ear, and gave his brushy tail a toss +over one flank. "Oh, I don't know," said he.</p> + +<p>"I used to talk in just that way when I was a Calf," said the Off Ox, +with a twinkle in his large brown eyes. "All<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> Calves think they'll do +wonders when they're grown."</p> + +<p>"I know I thought so," said the Nigh Ox, who had followed his brother.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you wanted to," asked the Red Calf, "why don't you do those +things now?" The others wondered how he dared to ask such a question.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't pay," said the Nigh Ox. "Do all your frisking in playtime. I +like fun as well as anybody, yet when our yoke is taken from its peg, I +say business is business and the closer we stick to it the better. I +knew a sitting Hen once who wanted to see everything that happened. She +was always running out to see somebody or other, and sometimes she +stayed longer than she meant to. I told her she'd better stick to her +nest, and she said she didn't believe in working all the time."</p> + +<p>"How soon did her Chickens hatch?" asked the Calves all together.</p> + +<p>"Never did hatch, of course," chuckled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> the Nigh Ox. "She fooled herself +into thinking she was working, and she made a great fuss about her legs +aching and her giving up society, but she couldn't fool that nestful of +eggs. They had gotten cold and they knew it, and not one of them would +hatch."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't she ashamed then?" asked the Calves.</p> + +<p>"Didn't act so," snorted the Nigh Ox. "Went around talking about her +great disappointment, and said she couldn't see why the other Hens had +so much better luck."</p> + +<p>The Off Ox chuckled. "He told her that he guessed it might have been +something besides bad luck, and that the next time she'd better stay on +her nest more. Then she asked him how many broods of Chickens he had +hatched. Ho-ho-ho!"</p> + +<p>Everybody laughed, and the Calves wondered how the Nigh Ox could think +of it without being angry. "It wouldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> pay to be angry," he said. +"What's the use of wasting a fine great Ox temper on a poor little Hen +rudeness?"</p> + +<p>This made them think. They remembered how cross and hot and +uncomfortable they often became over very small things that bothered +them, and they began to think that perhaps even Calf tempers were worth +caring for.</p> + +<p>At last the Black Calf, the prettiest one in the yard, said, "Do you +like drawing that flat wagon which hasn't any wheels, and scrapes along +in the dust?"</p> + +<p>"The stone-boat?" asked the Off Ox. "We don't mind it. Never mind doing +our kind of work. Wouldn't like to pull the binder with its shining +knives and whirling arms, for whoever does that has to walk fast and +make sudden turns and stops. Wouldn't like being hitched to the carriage +to carry the farmer's family to town. Wouldn't like to take care of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> the +Sheep, like Collie, or to grow feathers like the Geese—but we can draw +stone-boats and all sorts of heavy loads, if we do say it."</p> + +<p>The Red Calf, who was always running and kicking up his heels, said, +"Oh, it's such slow work! I should think you'd feel that you would never +reach the end of your journey."</p> + +<p>"We don't think about that," answered the Nigh Ox. "It doesn't pay. We +used to, though. I remember the time when I wished myself a Swallow, +flying a mile a minute, instead of step-step-stepping my way through +life. My mother was a sensible Cow, and wore the bell in our herd. She +cured me of that foolishness. She told me that Swallows had to fly one +wing-beat at a time, and that dinners had to be eaten one mouthful at a +time, and that nothing really worth while could be done in a minute. She +said that if we were forever thinking how much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> work we had to do and +how tiresome it was, we'd never enjoy life, and we wouldn't live long +either. Lazy Oxen never do. That's another thing which doesn't pay."</p> + +<p>The Red Calf and the White Calf spoke together: "We will always be +sensible. We will never lose our tempers. We will never be afraid to +work. We will be fine and long-lived cattle."</p> + +<p>"Might you not better say you will <i>try</i> to be sensible?" asked the Nigh +Ox. "You know it is not always easy to do those things, and one has to +begin over and over again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," they answered. "We know what we can do."</p> + +<p>"You might be mistaken," said the Oxen gently.</p> + +<p>"I am never mistaken," said the Red Calf.</p> + +<p>"Neither am I," said the White Calf.</p> + +<p>"Well, good-morning," called the Oxen,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> as they moved off. "We are going +to talk with our sisters, the Cows."</p> + +<p>After they had gone, the pretty Black Calf spoke in her pleasant way: +"It seems to me I shall be an old Cow before I can learn to be good and +sensible like them, but I am going to try."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said the Red Calf. "It is easy enough to be sensible if you want +to be—as easy as eating."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the White Calf. "I shall never lose my temper again, now +that I am sure it is foolish to do so."</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" said the pretty Black Calf. "How strong and good you must be. +I can only keep on trying."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said the Red Calf again. Then he lowered his voice and spoke to +her. "Move along," said he, "and let me stand beside you in the cubby +while I chew my cud."</p> + +<p>"Don't you do it," cried the White Calf. "I want that place myself."</p> + +<p><a name="RED_CALF" id="RED_CALF"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/img243.jpg" + alt="THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF" /><br /> + <b>THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF.</b> + </div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I guess not!" exclaimed the Red Calf. "I'll bunt you first."</p> + +<p>"Bunt away, then," said the White Calf, "but I'll have that place."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please don't fight!" exclaimed the Black Calf. "I'll let one of you +have my corner."</p> + +<p>"Don't you move," cried each of them. "I want to stand by you." Then +they lowered their heads and looked into each other's eyes. Next, they +put their hard foreheads together, and pushed and pushed and pushed. +Sometimes the Red Calf made the White Calf go backward, and sometimes it +was the other way. Once in a while they stood still and rested. Then +they began pushing again.</p> + +<p>While they were quarrelling in this way, getting warmer and more angry +all the time, and losing those very tempers which they had said they +would always keep, a young Jersey had stepped into the cubby beside the +Black Calf, and they were hav<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>ing a pleasant visit. "What are those +fellows fighting about?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The Black Calf smiled a funny little smile. "They are fighting," said +she, "to see which one shall stand in the cubby with me and chew his +cud."</p> + +<p>The Jersey Calf was a shrewd young fellow of very good family. +"Perhaps," said he, "I ought to stay and guard the place until it is +decided who shall have it."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would," said she.</p> + +<p>And that was how it happened that the two Calves who lost their tempers +had a cross, tiresome, and uncomfortable day, while another had the very +corner which they wanted. When night came, they grumbled because the +Jersey Calf had come out ahead of them, and they thought it very +strange. But it was not strange, for the people who are quiet and +good-natured always come out ahead in the end. And the people who are so +very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> sure that it is easy to be good when they really want to, are just +the very ones who sometimes do not want to when they should.</p> + +<p>The Black Calf was right. The only way to be sensible and happy is to +try and try and try, and it does pay.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span><br /><br /></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Among the Forest People.</h2> + +<h3>By CLARA D. PIERSON.</h3> + +<p class='center'>Illustrated by F. C. Gordon.</p> + +<p class='center'>12mo, 220 pages, cloth, gilt top—$1.25.</p> + + +<blockquote><div class="figright"><img src="images/img264.jpg" alt="Rabbit" title="Rabbit" /></div> +<p>"A most charming series of stories for children—yes, and for children +of all ages, both young and old—is given us in the volume before us. No +one can read these realistic conversations of the little creatures of +the wood without being most tenderly drawn toward them, and each story +teaches many entertaining facts regarding the lives and habits of these +little people. Mothers and teachers must welcome this little book most +cordially. One cannot speak too strongly in praise of it."—<i>Boston +Transcript</i>.</p> + +<p>"In pleasant story-telling guise, much information is conveyed, and the +pictures are a further help. A clever and charming book."—<i>Philadelphia +Eve. Telegraph</i>.</p> + +<p>"Is a book that every child will like to read."—<i>Hartford Courant</i>.</p> + +<p>"The scheme of the book is felicitous, and it is worked out with an +acute and sympathetic appreciation of methods for enlisting the +attention and impressing intelligently the memory of children. The +illustrations are distinctly helpful."—<i>Troy Daily Press</i>.</p> + +<p>"One does not know which to admire most—the intimate footing upon which +the author stands with the forest folk, or the intelligent sympathy she +has with sweet child life. She seems to be equally in touch with +both."—<i>Churchman</i>.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class='center'>Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h4>"<i>Many a mother and teacher will accord a vote of thanks to the +author.</i>"</h4> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img265.jpg" alt="Among the Meadow People" title="Among the Meadow People" /></div> + + +<h2>Among the Meadow People.</h2> + +<h4>STORIES OF FIELD LIFE, WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE ONES.</h4> + +<h3>By CLARA D. PIERSON.</h3> + +<p class='center'>Illustrated by <span class="smcap">F. C. Gordon</span>.</p> + +<p class='center'> +12mo, 127 pages, cloth, gilt top—$1.25. +</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<blockquote><p>"One of the daintiest and in many ways most attractive of the many books +of nature study which the past year has brought forth."—<i>Boston +Advertiser</i>.</p> + +<p>"They are like Mrs. Gatty's well-known 'Parables from Nature,' written +in the best of English, as fascinating as fairy tales, and yet 'really +true,' a quality which we all know appeals to the childish mind."—<i>N. +Y. Evangelist</i>.</p> + +<p>"We have seen nothing better for its purpose, and hope many a teacher of +kindergartens and many a mother may avail herself of the privilege of +using these little tales."—<i>N.Y. Christian Advocate</i>.</p> + +<p>"It will be a great advance in the work of education in the school and +the home when such books are more generally utilized."—<i>Zion's Herald</i>.</p> + +<p>"These charming stories of field life will delight many a child of +kindergarten age; and it is safe to say that older brothers and sisters +will also want to claim a share in them."—<i>Christian Register</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p class='center'>Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.</p> + +<p class='center'> +E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers,<br /> +<br /> +31 West 23d Street—New York.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Among the Farmyard People, by +Clara Dillingham Pierson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE FARMYARD PEOPLE *** + +***** This file should be named 19381-h.htm or 19381-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/8/19381/ + +Produced by David Newman, Chuck Greif, Janet Blenkinship +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc3d587 --- /dev/null +++ b/19381-h/images/img265.jpg diff --git a/19381-h/images/imgcover.jpg b/19381-h/images/imgcover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd5be74 --- /dev/null +++ b/19381-h/images/imgcover.jpg diff --git a/19381.txt b/19381.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8c3e01 --- /dev/null +++ b/19381.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4598 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Among the Farmyard People, by Clara Dillingham Pierson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Among the Farmyard People + +Author: Clara Dillingham Pierson + +Illustrator: F.C. Gordon + +Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19381] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE FARMYARD PEOPLE *** + + + + +Produced by David Newman, Chuck Greif, Janet Blenkinship +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + + Among the Farmyard People + + BY + + Clara Dillingham Pierson + + Author of "Among the Meadow People," and "Forest People". + + + Illustrated by F. C. GORDON + + + [Illustration] + + + NEW YORK + Copyright by + E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY + 31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET + 1899 + + + + +TO THE CHILDREN + +_Dear Little Friends:_ + +I want to introduce the farmyard people to you, and to have you call +upon them and become better acquainted as soon as you can. Some of them +are working for us, and we surely should know them. Perhaps, too, some +of us are working for them, since that is the way in this delightful +world of ours, and one of the happiest parts of life is helping and +being helped. + +It is so in the farmyard, and although there is not much work that the +people there can do for each other, there are many kind things to be +said, and even the Lame Duckling found that he could make the Blind +Horse happy when he tried. It is there as it is everywhere else, and I +sometimes think that although the farmyard people do not look like us or +talk like us, they are not so very different after all. If you had seen +the little Chicken who wouldn't eat gravel when his mother was reproving +him, you could not have helped knowing his thoughts even if you did not +understand a word of the Chicken language. He was thinking, "I don't +care! I don't care a bit! So now!" That was long since, for he was a +Chicken when I was a little girl, and both of us grew up some time ago. +I think I have always been more sorry for him because when he was +learning to eat gravel I was learning to eat some things which I did not +like; and so, you see, I knew exactly how he felt. But it was not until +afterwards that I found out how his mother felt. + +That is one of the stories which I have been keeping a long time for +you, and the Chicken was a particular friend of mine. I knew him better +than I did some of his neighbors; yet they were all pleasant +acquaintances, and if I did not see some of these things happen with my +own eyes, it is just because I was not in the farmyard at the right +time. There are many other tales I should like to tell you about them, +but one mustn't make the book too fat and heavy for your hands to hold, +so I will send you these and keep the rest. + +Many stories might be told about our neighbors who live out-of-doors, +and they are stories that ought to be told, too, for there are still +boys and girls who do not know that animals think and talk and work, and +love their babies, and help each other when in trouble. I knew one boy +who really thought it was not wrong to steal newly built birds'-nests, +and I have seen girls--quite large ones, too--who were afraid of Mice! +It was only last winter that a Quail came to my front door, during the +very cold weather, and snuggled down into the warmest corner he could +find. I fed him, and he stayed there for several days, and I know, and +you know, perfectly well that although he did not say it in so many +words, he came to remind me that I had not yet told you a Quail story. +And two of my little neighbors brought ten Polliwogs to spend the day +with me, so I promised then and there that the next book should be about +pond people and have a Polliwog story in it. + +And now, good-bye! Perhaps some of you will write me about your visits +to the farmyard. I hope you will enjoy them very much, but be sure you +don't wear red dresses or caps when you call on the Turkey Gobbler. + + Your friend, + CLARA DILLINGHAM PIERSON. + + Stanton, Michigan, + March 28, 1899. + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PAGE + THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL 1 + + THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL 12 + + THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG 20 + + THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO 33 + + THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE 47 + + THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND 64 + + THE TWIN LAMBS 82 + + THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE 96 + + THE LONELY LITTLE PIG 106 + + THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF 116 + + THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL 136 + + THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY 149 + + WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY 160 + + THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP 172 + + THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER 186 + + THE BRAGGING PEACOCK 199 + + THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN 213 + + THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES 232 + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING 2 + + THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL 16 + + THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM 40 + + HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES 77 + + FEEDING THE LAMBS 84 + + EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF 110 + + "I AM THE WHITE KITTEN" 130 + + THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH 156 + + COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER 170 + + THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD + HER. _Frontispiece_ 194 + + THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE, 208 + + THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF 243 + + + + +THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL + + +"Listen!" said the Nigh Ox, "don't you hear some friends coming?" + +The Off Ox raised his head from the grass and stopped to brush away a +Fly, for you never could hurry either of the brothers. "I don't hear any +footfalls," said he. + +"You should listen for wings, not feet," said the Nigh Ox, "and for +voices, too." + +Even as he spoke there floated down from the clear air overhead a soft +"tittle-ittle-ittle-ee," as though some bird were laughing for +happiness. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the meadow was covered +with thousands and thousands of green grass blades, each so small and +tender, and yet together making a most beautiful carpet for the feet of +the farmyard people, and offering them sweet and juicy food after their +winter fare of hay and grain. Truly it was a day to make one laugh aloud +for joy. The alder tassels fluttered and danced in the spring breeze, +while the smallest and shyest of the willow pussies crept from their +little brown houses on the branches to grow in the sunshine. + +[Illustration: THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING.] + +"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" And this time it was +louder and clearer than before. + +"The Swallows!" cried the Oxen to each other. Then they straightened +their strong necks and bellowed to the Horses, who were drawing the plow +in the field beyond, "The Swallows are coming!" + +As soon as the Horses reached the end of the furrow and could rest a +minute, they tossed their heads and whinnied with delight. Then they +looked around at the farmer, and wished that he knew enough of the +farmyard language to understand what they wanted to tell him. They knew +he would be glad to hear of their friends' return, for had they not seen +him pick up a young Swallow one day and put him in a safer place? + +"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" and there was a sudden darkening of the sky +above their heads, a whirr of many wings, a chattering and laughing of +soft voices, and the Swallows had come. Perched on the ridge-pole of the +big barn, they rested and visited and heard all the news. + +The Doves were there, walking up and down the sloping sides of the roof +and cooing to each other about the simple things of every-day life. You +know the Doves stay at home all winter, and so it makes a great change +when their neighbors, the Swallows, return. They are firm friends in +spite of their very different ways of living. There was never a Dove +who would be a Swallow if he could, yet the plump, quiet, gray and white +Doves dearly love the dashing Swallows, and happy is the Squab who can +get a Swallow to tell him stories of the great world. + +"Isn't it good to be home, home, home!" sang one Swallow. "I never set +my claws on another ridge-pole as comfortable as this." + +"I'm going to look at my old nest," said a young Swallow, as she +suddenly flew down to the eaves. + +"I think I'll go, too," said another young Swallow, springing away from +his perch. He was a handsome fellow, with a glistening dark blue head +and back, a long forked tail which showed a white stripe on the under +side, a rich buff vest, and a deep blue collar, all of the finest +feathers. He loved the young Swallow whom he was following, and he +wanted to tell her so. + +"There is the nest where I was hatched," she said. "Would you think I +was ever crowded in there with five brothers and sisters? It was a +comfortable nest, too, before the winter winds and snow wore it away. I +wonder how it would seem to be a fledgling again?" She snuggled down in +the old nest until he could see only her forked tail and her dainty head +over the edge. Her vest was quite hidden, and the only light feathers +that showed were the reddish-buff ones on throat and face; these were +not so bright as his, but still she was beautiful to him. He loved every +feather on her body. + +"I don't want you to be a fledgling again," he cried. "I want you to +help me make a home under the eaves, a lovely little nest of mud and +straw, where you can rest as you are now doing, while I bring food to +you. Will you?" + +"Yes," she cried. "Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Oh, tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" +And she flew far up into the blue sky, while he followed her, +twittering and singing. + +"Where are those young people going?" said an older Swallow. "I should +think they had flown far enough for to-day without circling around for +the fun of it." + +"Don't you remember the days when you were young?" said the Swallow next +to him. + +"When I was young?" he answered. "My dear, I am young now. I shall +always be young in the springtime. I shall never be old except when I am +moulting." + +Just then a family of Doves came pattering over the roof, swaying their +heads at every step. "We are so glad to see you back," said the father. +"We had a long, cold winter, and we thought often of you." + +"A very cold winter," cooed his plump little wife. + +"Tell me a story," said a young Dove, their son. + +"Hush, hush," said the Father Dove. "This is our son," he added, "and +this is his sister. We think them quite a pair. Our last brood, you +know." + +"Tell us a story," said the young Dove again. + +"Hush, dear. You mustn't tease the Swallow," said his mother. "They are +so fond of stories," she cooed, "and they have heard that your family +are great travellers." + +"But I want him to tell us a story," said the young Dove. "I think he +might." + +This made the Swallow feel very uncomfortable, for he could see that the +children had been badly brought up, and he did not want to tell a story +just then. + +"Perhaps you would like to hear about our journey south," said he. "Last +fall, when the maples began to show red and yellow leaves among the +green, we felt like flying away. It was quite warm weather, and the +forest birds were still here, but when we feel like flying south we +always begin to get ready." + +"I never feel like flying south," said the young Dove. "I don't see why +you should." + +"That is because I am a Swallow and you are a farmyard Dove. We talked +about it to each other, and one day we were ready to start. We all had +on our new feathers and felt strong and well. We started out together, +but the young birds and their mothers could not keep up with the rest, +so we went on ahead." + +"Ahead of whom?" said the young Dove, who had been preening his feathers +when he should have been listening. + +"Ahead of the mothers and their fledglings. We flew over farms where +there were Doves like you; over rivers where the Wild Ducks were feeding +by the shore; and over towns where crowds of boys and girls were going +into large buildings, while on top of these buildings were large bells +singing, 'Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.'" + +"I don't think that was a very pretty song," said the young Dove. + +"Hush," said his mother, "you mustn't interrupt the Swallow." + +"And at last we came to a great lake," said the Swallow. "It was so +great that when we had flown over it for a little while we could not see +land at all, and our eyes would not tell us which way to go. We just +went on as birds must in such places, flying as we felt we ought, and +not stopping to ask why or to wonder if we were right. Of course we +Swallows never stop to eat, for we catch our food as we fly, but we did +sometimes stop to rest. Just after we had crossed this great lake we +alighted. It was then that a very queer thing happened, and this is +really the story that I started to tell." + +"Oh!" said the young Dove and his sister. "How very exciting. But wait +just a minute while we peep over the edge of the roof and see what the +farmer is doing." And before anybody could say a word they had pattered +away to look. + +The birds who were there say that the Swallow seemed quite disgusted, +and surely nobody could blame him if he did. + +"You must excuse them," cooed their mother. "They are really hardly more +than Squabs yet, and I can't bear to speak severely to them. I'm sure +they didn't mean to be rude." + +"Certainly, certainly," said the Swallow. "I will excuse them and you +must excuse me. I wish to see a few of my old friends before the sun +goes down. Good afternoon!" And he darted away. + +The young Doves came pattering back, swaying their heads as they walked. +"Why, where is the Swallow?" they cried. "What made him go away? Right +at the best part of the story, too. We don't see why folks are so +disagreeable. People never are as nice to us as they are to the other +young Doves." + +"Hush," said their mother. "You mustn't talk in that way. Fly off for +something to eat, and never mind about the rest of the story." + +When they were gone, she said to her husband, "I wonder if they did hurt +the Swallow's feelings? But then, they are so young, hardly more than +Squabs." + +She forgot that even Squabs should be thoughtful of others, and that no +Dove ever amounts to anything unless he begins in the right way as a +Squab. + + + + +THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL + + +The Sheep are a simple and kind-hearted family, and of all the people on +the farm there are none who are more loved than they. All summer they +wander in the fields, nibbling the fresh, sweet grass, and resting at +noon in the shadow of the trees, but when the cold weather comes they +are brought up to the farmyard and make their home in the long low +Sheep-shed. + +That is always a happy time. The Horses breathe deeply and toss their +heads for joy, the Cows say to each other, "Glad to have the Sheep come +up," and even the Oxen shift their cuds and look long over their +shoulders at the woolly newcomers. And this is not because the Sheep +can do anything for their neighbors to make them warm or to feed them. +It is only because they are a gentle folk and pleasant in all they say; +and you know when people are always kind, it makes others happy just to +see them and have them near. + +Then, when the cold March winds are blowing, the good farmer brings more +yellow straw into the Sheep-shed, and sees that it is warm and snug. If +there are any boards broken and letting the wind in, he mends them and +shuts out the cold. At this time, too, the Horses and Cattle stop often +in their eating to listen. Even the Pigs, who do not think much about +their neighbors, root in the corners nearest the Sheep-shed and prick up +their ears. + +Some bleak morning they hear a faint bleating and know that the first +Lamb is there. And then from day to day they hear more of the soft +voices as the new Lambs come to live with the flock. Such queer little +creatures as the Lambs are when they first come--so weak and awkward! +They can hardly stand alone, and stagger and wobble around the little +rooms or pens where they are with their mothers. You can just imagine +how hard it must be to learn to manage four legs all at once! + +There is one thing which they do learn very quickly, and that is, to +eat. They are hungry little people, and well they may be, for they have +much growing to do, and all of the food that is to be made into good +stout bodies and fine long wool has to go into their mouths and down +their throats to their stomachs. It is very wonderful to think that a +Cow eats grass and it is turned into hair to keep her warm, a Goose eats +grass and grows feathers, and a Sheep eats grass and grows wool. Still, +it is so, and nobody in the world can tell why. It is just one of the +things that are, and if you should ask "Why?" nobody could tell you the +reason. There are many such things which we cannot understand, but there +are many more which we can, so it would be very foolish for us to mind +when there is no answer to our "Why?" + +Yes, Sheep eat grass, and because they have such tiny mouths they have +to take small mouthfuls. The Lambs have different food for a +while,--warm milk from their mothers' bodies. When a mother has a Lamb +to feed, she eats a great deal, hay, grass, and chopped turnips, and +then part of the food that goes into her stomach is turned into milk and +stored in two warm bags for the Lamb to take when he is hungry. And how +the Lambs do like this milk! It tastes so good that they can hardly +stand still while they drink it down, and they give funny little jerks +and wave their woolly tails in the air. + +[Illustration: THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL.] + +There was one Lamb who had a longer tail than any of the rest, and, sad +to say, it made him rather vain. When he first came, he was too busy +drinking milk and learning to walk, to think about tails, but as he grew +older and stronger he began to know that he had the longest one. Because +he was a very young Lamb he was so foolish as to tease the others and +call out, "Baa! your tails are snippy ones!" + +Then the others would call back, "Baa! Don't care if they are!" + +After a while, his mother, who was a sensible Sheep and had seen much of +life, said to him: "You must not brag about your tail. It is very rude +of you, and very silly too, for you have exactly such a tail as was +given to you, and the other Lambs have exactly such tails as were given +to them, and when you are older you will know that it did not matter in +the least what kind of tail you wore when you were little." She might +have told him something else, but she didn't. + +The Lamb didn't dare to boast of his tail after this, but when he passed +the others, he would look at his mother, and if he thought she wouldn't +see, he would wiggle it at them. Of course that was just as bad as +talking about it, and the other Lambs knew perfectly well what he meant; +still, they pretended not to understand. + +One morning, when his mother's back was turned, he was surprised to see +that she had only a short and stumpy tail. He had been thinking so much +of his own that he had not noticed hers. "Mother," he cried, "why didn't +you have a long tail too?" + +"I did have once," she answered with a sheepish smile. + +"Did it get broken?" he asked in a faint little voice. He was thinking +how dreadful it would be if he should break his. + +"Not exactly," said his mother. "I will tell you all about it. All +little Lambs have long tails----" + +"Not so long as mine, though," said he, interrupting. + +"No, not so long as yours," she replied, "but so long that if they were +left that way always they would make a great deal of trouble. As the +wool grows on them, they would catch burrs and sharp, prickly things, +which would pull the wool and sting the skin. The farmer knows this, so +when the little Lambs are about as old as you are now, he and his men +make their tails shorter." + +"Oh!" cried the Lamb, curling his tail in as far between his legs as he +could, "do you mean that they will shorten my tail, my beautiful long +tail?" + +"That is just what I mean," said his mother, "and you should be very +glad of it. When that is done, you will be ready to go out into the +field with me. A lot of trouble we should have if the men did not look +after such things for us; but that is what men are for, they say,--to +look after us Sheep." + +"But won't they laugh at me when my tail is shorter?" asked her son. + +"They would laugh at you if you wore it long. No Lamb who pretends to be +anybody would be seen in the pasture with a dangling tail. Only wild +Sheep wear them long, poor things!" + +Now the little Lamb wished that he had not boasted so much. Now, when +the others passed him, he did not put on airs. Now he wondered why they +couldn't have short tails in the beginning. He asked his uncle, an old +Wether Sheep, why this was and his uncle laughed. "Why, what would you +have done all these days if things happened in that way? What would you +have had to think about? What could you have talked about?" The little +Lamb hung his head and asked no more questions. + +"What do you think?" he called to a group of Lambs near by. "I'm going +to have one of the men shorten my tail. It is such a bother unless one +does have it done, and mine is so very long!" + + + + +THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG + + +"CUT-CUT-CA-DAH-CUT! Cut-cut-cut-ca-dah-cut!" called the Dorking Hen, as +she strutted around the poultry-yard. She held her head very high, and +paused every few minutes to look around in her jerky way and see whether +the other fowls were listening. Once she even stood on her left foot +right in the pathway of the Shanghai Cock, and cackled into his very +ears. + +Everybody pretended not to hear her. The people in the poultry-yard did +not like the Dorking Hen very well. They said that she put on airs. +Perhaps she did. She certainly talked a great deal of the place from +which she and the Dorking Cock came. They had come in a small cage from +a large poultry farm, and the Dorking Hen never tired of telling about +the wonderful, noisy ride that they took in a dark car drawn by a great, +black, snorting creature. She said that this creature's feet grew on to +his sides and whirled around as he ran, and that he breathed out of the +top of his head. When the fowls first heard of this, they were much +interested, but after a while they used to walk away from her, or make +believe that they saw Grasshoppers whom they wanted to chase. + +When she found that people were not listening to her, she cackled louder +than ever, "Cut-cut-ca-dah-cut! Look at the egg--the egg--the egg--the +egg that I have laid." + +"Is there any particular reason why we should look at the egg--the +egg--the egg--the egg that you have laid?" asked the Shanghai Cock, who +was the grumpiest fowl in the yard. + +Now, usually if the Dorking Hen had been spoken to in this way, she +would have ruffled up her head feathers and walked away, but this time +she had news to tell and so she kept her temper. "Reason?" she cackled. +"Yes indeed! It is the finest egg that was ever laid in this +poultry-yard." + +"Hear her talk!" said a Bantam Hen. "I think it is in very poor taste to +lay such large eggs as most of the Hens do here. Small ones are much +more genteel." + +"She must forget an egg that I laid a while ago with two yolks," said a +Shanghai Hen. "That was the largest egg ever laid here, and I have +always wished that I had hatched it. A pair of twin chickens would have +been so interesting." + +"Well," said the Dorking Hen, who could not keep still any longer, +"small eggs may be genteel and large ones may be interesting, but my +last one is bee-autiful." + +"Perhaps you'd just as soon tell us about it as to brag without +telling?" grumbled the Shanghai Cock. "I suppose it is grass color, or +sky color, or hay color, or speckled, like a sparrow's egg." + +"No," answered the Dorking Hen, "it is white, but it is shiny." + +"Shiny!" they exclaimed. "Who ever heard of a shiny egg?" + +"Nobody," she replied, "and that is why it is so wonderful." + +"Don't believe it," said the Shanghai Cock, as he turned away and began +scratching the ground. + +Now the Dorking Hen did get angry. "Come to see it, if you don't believe +me," she said, as she led the others into the Hen-house. + +She flew up to the row of boxes where the Hens had their nests, and +picked her way along daintily until she reached the farthest one. "Now +look," said she. + +One by one the fowls peeped into the box, and sure enough, there it +lay, a fine, shiny, white egg. The little Bantam, who was really a +jolly, kind-hearted creature, said, "Well, it is a beauty. I should be +proud of it myself." + +"It is whiter than I fancy," said the Shanghai Cock, "but it certainly +does shine." + +"I shall hatch it," said the Dorking Hen, very decidedly. "I shall hatch +it and have a beautiful Chicken with shining feathers. I shall not hatch +all the eggs in the nest, but roll this one away and sit on it." + +"Perhaps," said one of her friends, "somebody else may have laid it +after all, and not noticed. You know it is not the only one in the +nest." + +"Pooh!" said the Dorking Hen. "I guess I know! I am sure it was not +there when I went to the nest and it was there when I left. I must have +laid it." + +The fowls went away, and she tried to roll the shiny one away from the +other eggs, but it was slippery and very light and would not stay where +she put it. Then she got out of patience and rolled all the others out +of the nest. Two of them fell to the floor and broke, but she did not +care. "They are nothing but common ones, anyway," she said. + +When the farmer's wife came to gather the eggs she pecked at her and was +very cross. Every day she did this, and at last the woman let her alone. +Every-day she told the other fowls what a wonderful Chicken she expected +to have. "Of course he will be of my color," said she, "but his feathers +will shine brightly. He will be a great flyer, too. I am sure that is +what it means when the egg is light." She came off the nest each day +just long enough to stroll around and chat with her friends, telling +them what wonderful things she expected, and never letting them forget +that it was she who had laid the shiny egg. She pecked airily at the +food, and seemed to think that a Hen who was hatching such a wonderful +Chicken should have the best of everything. Each day she told some new +beauty that was to belong to her child, until the Shanghai Cock fairly +flapped his wings with impatience. + +Day after day passed, and the garden beyond the barn showed rows of +sturdy green plants, where before there had been only straight ridges of +fine brown earth. The Swallows who were building under the eaves of the +great barn, twittered and chattered of the wild flowers in the forest, +and four other Hens came off their nests with fine broods of downy +Chickens. And still the Dorking Hen sat on her shiny egg and told what a +wonderful Chicken she expected to hatch. This was not the only egg in +the nest now, but it was the only one of which she spoke. + +At last a downy Chicken peeped out of one of the common eggs, and +wriggled and twisted to free himself from the shell. His mother did not +hurry him or help him. She knew that he must not slip out of it until +all the blood from the shell-lining had run into his tender little body. +If she had pushed the shell off before he had all of this fine red +blood, he would not have been a strong Chicken, and she wanted her +children to be strong. + +The Dorking Cock walked into the Hen-house and stood around on one foot. +He came to see if the shiny egg had hatched, but he wouldn't ask. He +thought himself too dignified to show any interest in newly hatched +Chickens before a Hen. Still, he saw no harm in standing around on one +foot and letting the Dorking Hen talk to him if she wanted to. When she +told him it was one of the common eggs that had hatched, he was quite +disgusted, and stalked out of doors without a word. + +The truth was that he had been rather bragging to the other Cocks, and +only a few minutes later he spoke with pride of the time when "our" +shiny egg should hatch. "For," he said, "Mrs. Dorking and I have been +quite alone here as far as our own people are concerned. It is not +strange that we should feel a great pride in the wonderful egg and the +Chicken to be hatched from it. A Dorking is a Dorking after all, my +friends." And he flapped his wings, stretched his neck, and crowed as +loudly as he could. + +"Yes," said the Black Spanish Cock afterward, "a Dorking certainly is a +Dorking, although I never could see the sense of making such a fuss +about it. They are fat and they have an extra toe on each foot. Why +should a fowl want extra toes? I have four on each foot, and I can +scratch up all the food I want with them." + +"Well," said the grumpy old Shanghai Cock, "I am sick and tired of this +fuss. Common eggs are good enough for Shanghais and Black Spanish and +Bantams, and I should think----" + +Just at this minute they heard a loud fluttering and squawking in the +Hen-house and the Dorking Hen crying, "Weasel! Weasel!" The Cocks ran to +drive the Weasel away, and the Hens followed to see it done. All was +noise and hurry, and they saw nothing of the Weasel except the tip of +his bushy tail as he drew his slender body through an opening in the +fence. + +The Dorking Hen was on one of the long perches where the fowls roost at +night, the newly hatched Chicken lay shivering in the nest, and on the +floor were the pieces of the wonderful shiny egg. The Dorking Hen had +knocked it from the nest in her flight. + +The Dorking Cock looked very cross. He was not afraid of a Weasel, and +he did not see why she should be. "Just like a Hen!" he said. + +The Black Spanish Hen turned to him before he could say another word. +"Just like a Cock!" she exclaimed. "I never raise Chickens myself. It is +not the custom among the Black Spanish Hens. We lay the eggs and +somebody else hatches them. But if I had been on the nest as long as +Mrs. Dorking has, do you suppose I'd let any fowl speak to me as you +spoke to her? I'd--I'd--" and she was so angry that she couldn't say +another word, but just strutted up and down and cackled. + +A motherly old Shanghai Hen flew up beside Mrs. Dorking. "We are very +sorry for you," she said. "I know how I should have felt if I had broken +my two-yolked egg just as it was ready to hatch." + +The Bantam Hen picked her way to the nest. "What a dear little Chicken!" +she cried, in her most comforting tone. "He is so plump and so bright +for his age. But, my dear, he is chilly, and I think you should cuddle +him under your wings until his down is dry." + +The Dorking Hen flew down. "He is a dear," she said, "and yet when he +was hatched I didn't care much for him, because I had thought so long +about the shiny egg. It serves me right to lose that one, because I have +been so foolish. Still, I do not know how I could stand it if it were +not for my good neighbors." + +While Mrs. Dorking was talking with the Bantam by her nest, the Black +Spanish Hen scratched a hole in the earth under the perches, poked the +pieces of the shiny egg into it, and covered them up. "I never raise +Chickens myself," she said, "but if I did----" + +The Shanghai Cock walked away with the Dorking Cock. "I'm sorry for +you," he said, "and I am more sorry for Mrs. Dorking. She is too fine a +Hen to be spoken to as you spoke to her this morning, and I don't want +to hear any more of your fault-finding. Do you understand?" And he +ruffled his neck feathers and stuck his face close to that of the +Dorking Cock. They stared into each other's eyes for a minute; then the +Dorking Cock, who was not so big and strong as the Shanghai, shook his +head and answered sweetly, "It was rude of me. I won't do it again." + +From that day to this, nobody in the poultry yard has ever spoken of the +shiny egg, and the Dorkings are much liked by the other fowls. Yet if it +had not been for her trouble, Mrs. Dorking and her neighbors would never +have become such good friends. The little Dorkings are fine, +fat-breasted Chicks, with the extra toe on each foot of which all that +family are so proud. + + + + +THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO + + +"Quack! Quack!" called the Duck who had been sitting on her nest so +long. "My first egg is cracked, and I can see the broad yellow bill of +my eldest child. Ah! Now I can see his downy white head." The Drake +heard her and quacked the news to every one around, and flapped his +wings, and preened his feathers, for was not this the first Duckling +ever hatched on the farm? + +The Drake had not been there long himself. It was only a few days before +the Duck began sitting that she and her five sisters had come with him +to this place. It had not taken them long to become acquainted with the +other farmyard people, and all had been kind to them. The Geese had +rather put on airs, at first, because they were bigger and had longer +legs, but the Ducks and Drake were too wise to notice this in any way, +and before long the Geese were as friendly as possible. They would have +shown the Ducks the way to the water if it had been necessary, but it +was not, for Ducks always know without being told just where to find it. +They know, and they do not know why they know. It is one of the things +that are. + +Now that the first Duckling had chipped the shell, everybody wanted to +see him, and there was soon a crowd of fowls around the nest watching +him free himself from it. The Drake stood by, as proud as a Peacock. "I +think he looks much like his mother," said he. + +"Yes, yes," cackled all the Hens. "The same broad yellow bill, the same +short yellow legs, and the same webbed feet." + +The mother Duck smiled. "He looks more like me now than he will by and +by," she said, "for when his feathers grow and cover the down, he will +have a stiff little one curled up on his back like the Drake's. And +really, except for the curled feather, his father and I look very much +alike." + +"That is so," said the Black Spanish Cock. "You do look alike; the same +white feathers, the same broad breast, the same strong wings, the same +pointed tail, the same long neck, the same sweet expression around the +bill!" That was just like the Black Spanish Cock. He always said +something pleasant about people when he could, and it was much better +than saying unpleasant things. Indeed, he was the most polite fowl in +the poultry-yard, and the Black Spanish Hen thought his manners quite +perfect. + +Then the Duckling's five aunts pushed their way through the crowd to the +nest under the edge of the strawstack. "Have you noticed what fine +large feet he has?" said one of them. "That is like his mother's people. +See what a strong web is between the three long toes on each foot! He +will be a good swimmer. The one toe that points backward is small, to be +sure, but he does not need that in swimming. That is only to make +waddling easier." + +"Yes, yes," "A fine web," and "Very large feet," cried the fowls around +the nest, but most of them didn't care so much about the size of his +feet as the Ducks did. Large feet are always useful, you know, yet +nobody needs them so badly as Geese and Ducks. The Geese were off +swimming, and so could not see the Duckling when first he came out of +the shell. + +"Tap-tap, tap-tap," sounded inside another shell, and they knew that +there would soon be a second damp little Duckling beside the first. The +visitors could not stay to see this one come out, and they went away +for a time. The eldest Duckling had supposed that this was life, to have +people around saying, "How bright he is!" "What fine legs!" or "He has a +beautiful bill!" And now that they all walked away and his mother was +looking after the Duckling who was just breaking her shell, he didn't +like it--he didn't like it at all. + +Still, it was much better so. If he had had no brothers and sisters, he +would have been a lonely little fellow; besides, he would have had his +own way nearly all the time, and that is likely to make any Duckling +selfish. Then, too, if all the other fowls had petted him and given him +the best of everything, he would have become vain. Truly, it was a good +thing for him not to be the only child, and he soon learned to think so. + +After there were two Ducklings, a third one came, and a fourth, and a +fifth, and so on until, when the broken shells were cleared away and +the mother had counted bills, she could call to the Drake and her +sisters, "Nine Ducklings hatched, and there were only nine eggs in the +nest." + +"Then come to the brook," said the Drake, "and let the children have a +bath. I have been swimming a great many times to-day, and they have not +even set foot in water yet. Why, our eldest son was out of his shell +before the Horses were harnessed this morning, and here it is nearly +time for their supper." + +"I couldn't help it," said the mother Duck. "I couldn't leave the nest +to take him swimming until the rest were ready to go. I am doing the +best I can." + +"I didn't mean to find fault," said the Drake, "and I suppose you +couldn't get away, but we know that Ducklings should be taught to bathe +often, and there is nothing like beginning in time." + +"I might have taken some of them to the brook," said one of the aunts. +The mother straightened her neck and held her head very high, while she +answered, "You? You are very kind, but what do you know about bringing +up Ducklings?" + +Now the aunt might have said, "I know just as much as you do," for it +was the young mother's first brood, yet she kept still. She thought, "I +may hatch Ducklings of my own some day, and then I suppose I shall want +to care for them myself." + +"Wait," said the Drake, as they reached the brook. "Let us wait and see +what the children will do." The words were hardly out of his bill +when--flutter--splash--splash!--there were nine yellow-white Ducklings +floating on the brook and murmuring happily to each other as though they +had never done anything else. + +The Dorking Cock stood on the bank. "Who taught them to swim?" said he. + +"Nobody," answered their mother proudly. "They knew without being told. +That is the way a Duck takes to water." And she gave a dainty lurch and +was among her brood. + +[Illustration: THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM.] + +"Well!" exclaimed the Dorking Cock. "I thought the little Dorkings were +as bright as children could be, but they didn't know as much as that. I +must tell them." He stalked off, talking under his breath. + +"They know more than that," said the Drake. "Did you see how they ran +ahead of us when we stopped to talk? They knew where to find water as +soon as they were out of the shell. Still, the Cock might not have +believed that if I had told him." + +They had a good swim, and then all stood on the bank and dried +themselves. This they did by squeezing the water out of their down with +their bills. The Drake, the mother Duck, the five aunts, and the nine +Ducklings all stood as tall and straight as they could, and turned and +twisted their long necks, and flapped their wings, and squeezed their +down, and murmured to each other. And their father didn't tell the +little ones how, and their mother didn't tell them how, and their five +aunts didn't tell them how, but they knew without being told. + +The Ducklings grew fast, and made friends of all the farmyard people. +Early every morning they went to the brook. They learned to follow the +brook to the river, and here were wonderful things to be seen. There was +plenty to eat, too, in the soft mud under the water, and it was easy +enough to dive to it, or to reach down their long necks while only their +pointed tails and part of their body could be seen above the water. Not +that they ate the mud. They kept only the food that they found in it, +and then let the mud slip out between the rough edges of their bills. +They swam and ate all day, and slept all night, and were dutiful +Ducklings who minded their mother, so it was not strange that they were +plump and happy. + +At last there came a morning when the eldest Duckling could not go to +the brook with the others. A Weasel had bitten him in the night, and if +it had not been for his mother and the Drake, would have carried him +away. The rest had to go in swimming, and his lame leg would not let him +waddle as far as the brook, or swim after he got there. + +"I don't know what to do," he said to his mother. "I can't swim and I +can't waddle far, and I've eaten so much already that I can't eat +anything more for a long, long time." + +"You might play with the little Shanghais," said his mother. + +"They run around too much," he replied. "I can't keep up with them." + +"Then why not lie near the corn crib and visit with the Mice?" + +"Oh, they don't like the things that I like, and it isn't any fun." + +"How would it suit you to watch the Peacock for a while?" + +"I'm tired of watching the Peacock." + +"Then," said the mother, "you must help somebody else. You are old +enough to think of such things now, and you must remember this wise +saying: 'When you don't know what to do, help somebody.'" + +"Whom can I help?" said the lame Duckling. "People can all do things for +themselves." + +"There is the Blind Horse," answered his mother. "He is alone to-day, +and I'm sure he would like somebody to visit him." + +"Quack!" said the Duckling. "I will go to see him." He waddled slowly +away, stopping now and then to rest, and shaking his little pointed tail +from side to side as Ducks do. The Blind Horse was grazing in the +pasture alone. + +"I've come to see you, sir," said the Duckling. "Shall I be in your +way?" + +The Blind Horse looked much pleased. "I think from your voice that you +must be one of the young Ducks," said he. "I shall be very glad to have +you visit me, only you must be careful to keep away from my feet, for I +can't see, and I might step on you." + +"I'll be careful," said the Duckling. "I can't waddle much anyway this +morning, because my leg hurts me so." + +"Why, I'm sorry you are lame," said the Horse. "What is the matter?" + +"A Weasel bit me in the night, sir. But it doesn't hurt so much as it +did before I came to see you. Perhaps the pasture is a better place for +lame legs than the farmyard." He didn't know that it was because he was +trying to make somebody else happy that he felt so much better, yet that +was the reason. + +The Blind Horse and the Duckling became very fond of each other and had +a fine time. The Horse told stories of his Colthood, and of the things +he had seen in his travels before he became blind. And the Duckling told +him what the other farmyard people were doing, and about the soft, +fleecy clouds that drifted across the blue sky. When the mother Duck +came to look for him, the little fellow was much surprised. "Didn't you +go to the brook?" he asked. + +"Yes," said his mother, with a smile. "We have been there all the +morning. Don't you see how high the sun is?" + +"Why-ee!" said the Duckling. "I didn't think I had been here long at +all. We've been having the nicest time. And I'm coming again, am I not?" +He asked this question of the Blind Horse. + +"I wish you would come often," answered the Blind Horse. "You have given +me a very pleasant morning. Good-bye!" + +The mother Duck and her son waddled off together. "How is your leg?" +said she. + +"I forgot all about it until I began to walk," answered the Duckling. +"Isn't that queer?" + +"Not at all," said his mother. "It was because you were making somebody +else happy. 'When you don't know what to do, help somebody.'" + + + + +THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE + + +In a sheltered corner of the farmyard, where the hedge kept off the cold +winds and the trees shaded from hot summer sunshine, there were many +hives of Bees. One could not say much for the Drones, but the others +were the busiest of all the farmyard people, and they had so much to do +that they did not often stop to visit with their neighbors. + +In each hive, or home, there were many thousand Bees, and each had his +own work. First of all, there was the Queen. You might think that being +a Queen meant playing all the time, but that is not so, for to be a +really good Queen, even in a Beehive, one must know a great deal and +keep at work all the time. The Queen Bee is the mother of all the Bee +Babies, and she spends her days in laying eggs. She is so very precious +and important a person that the first duty of the rest is to take care +of her. + +The Drones are the stoutest and finest-looking of all the Bees, but they +are lazy, very, very lazy. There are never many of them in a hive, and +like most lazy people, they spend much of their time in telling the +others how to work. They do not make wax or store honey, and as the +Worker Bees do not wish them to eat what has been put away for winter, +they do not live very long. + +Most of the Bees are Workers. They are smaller than either the Queen +Mother or the Drones, and they gather all the honey, make all the wax, +build the comb, and feed the babies. They keep the hive clean, and when +the weather is very warm, some of them fan the air with their wings to +cool it. They guard the doorway of the hive, too, and turn away the +robbers who sometimes come to steal their honey. + +In these busy homes, nobody can live long just for himself. Everybody +helps somebody else, and that makes life pleasant. The Queen Mother +often lays as many as two thousand eggs in a day. Most of these are +Worker eggs, and are laid in the small cells of the brood comb, which is +the nursery of the hive. A few are Drone eggs and are laid in large +cells. She never lays any Queen eggs, for she does not want more Queens +growing up. It is a law among the Bees that there can be only one grown +Queen living in each home. + +The Workers, however, know that something might happen to their old +Queen Mother, so, after she has gone away, they sometimes go into a cell +where she has laid a Worker egg, and take down the waxen walls between +it and the ones on either side to make a very large royal cell. They +bite away the wax with their strong jaws and press the rough edges into +shape with their feet. When this egg hatches, they do not feed the baby, +or Larva, with tasteless bread made of flower-dust, honey, and water, as +they would if they intended it to grow up a Worker or a Drone. Instead, +they make what is called royal jelly, which is quite sour, and tuck this +all around the Larva, who now looks like a little white worm. + +The royal jelly makes her grow fast, and in five days she is so large as +to nearly fill the cell. Then she stops eating, spins a cocoon, and lies +in it for about two and a half days more. When she comes out of this, +she is called a Pupa. Sixteen days after the laying of the egg, the +young Queen is ready to come out of her cell. It takes twenty-one days +for a Worker to become fully grown and twenty-five for a Drone. + +In the hive by the cedar tree, the Queen Mother was growing restless +and fussy. She knew that the Workers were raising some young Queens, and +she tried to get to the royal cells. She knew that if she could only do +that, the young Queens would never live to come out. The Workers knew +this, too, and whenever she came near there, they made her go away. + +The Queen Larvae and Pupae were of different ages, and one of them was now +ready to leave her cell. They could hear her crying to be let out, but +they knew that if she and the Queen Mother should meet now, one of them +would die. So instead of letting her out, they built a thick wall of wax +over the door and left only an opening through which they could feed +her. When she was hungry she ran her tongue out and they put honey on +it. + +She wondered why the Workers did not let her out, when she wanted so +much to be free. She did not yet know that Queen Mothers do not get +along well with young Queens. + +The Workers talked it over by themselves. One of them was very +tender-hearted. "It does seem too bad," said she, "to keep the poor +young Queen shut up in her cell. I don't see how you can stand it to +hear her piping so pitifully all the time. I am sure she must be +beautiful. I never saw a finer tongue than the one she runs out for +honey." + +"Humph!" said a sensible old Worker, who had seen many Queens hatched +and many swarms fly away, "you'd be a good deal more sorry if we did let +her out now. It would not do at all." + +The tender-hearted Worker did not answer this, but she talked it over +with the Drones. "I declare," said she, wiping her eyes with her +forefeet, "I can hardly gather a mouthful of honey for thinking of her." + +"Suppose you hang yourself up and make wax then," said one Drone. "It +is a rather sunshiny day, but you ought to be doing something, and if +you cannot gather honey you might do that." This was just like a Drone. +He never gathered honey or made wax, yet he could not bear to see a +Worker lose any time. + +The Worker did not hang herself up and make wax, however. She never did +that except on cloudy days, and she was one of those Bees who seem to +think that nothing will come out right unless they stop working to see +about it. There was plenty waiting to be done, but she was too sad and +anxious to do it. She might have known that since her friends were only +minding the law, it was right to keep the new Queen in her cell. + +The Queen Mother was restless and fussy. She could not think of her +work, and half the time she did not know whether she was laying a Drone +egg or a Worker egg. In spite of that, she did not make any mistake, or +put one into the wrong kind of cell. "I cannot stay here with a young +Queen," said she. "I will not stay here. I will take my friends with me +and fly away." + +Whenever she met a Worker, she struck her feelers on those of her +friend, and then this friend knew exactly how she felt about it. In this +way the news was passed around, and soon many of the Workers were as +restless as their Queen Mother. They were so excited over it at times +that the air of the hive grew very hot. After a while they would become +quiet and gather honey once more. They whispered often to each other. +"Do you know where we are going?" one said. + +"Sh!" was the answer. "The guides are looking for a good place now." + +"I wish the Queen Mother knew where we are going," said the first. + +"How could she?" replied the second. "You know very well that she has +not left the hive since she began to lay eggs. Here she comes now." + +"Oh dear!" exclaimed the Queen Mother. "I can never stand this. I +certainly cannot. To think I am not allowed to rule in my own hive! The +Workers who are guarding the royal cells drive me away whenever I go +near them. I will not stay any longer." + +"Then," said a Drone, as though he had thought of it for the first time, +"why don't you go away?" + +"I shall," said she. "Will you go with me?" + +"No," said the Drone. "I hate moving and furnishing a new house. +Besides, somebody must stay here to take care of the Workers and the +young Queen." + +The Queen Mother walked away. "When we were both young," she said to +herself, "he would have gone anywhere with me." + +And the Drone said to himself, "Now, isn't that just like a Queen +Mother! She has known all the time that there would be young Queens +coming on, and that she would have to leave, yet here she is, making the +biggest kind of fuss about it. She ought to remember that it is the +law." + +Indeed she should have remembered that it was the law, for everything is +done by law in the hive, and no one person should find fault. The law +looks after them all, and will not let any one have more than his +rightful share. + +That same afternoon there was a sudden quiet in their home. The Workers +who had been outside returned and visited with the rest. While they were +waiting, a few who were to be their guides came to the door of the hive, +struck their wings together, and gave the signal for starting. Then all +who were going with the Queen Mother hurried out of the door and flew +with her in circles overhead. "Good-bye!" they called. "Raise all the +young Queens you wish. We shall never come back. We are going far, far +away, and we shall not tell you where. It is a lovely place, a very +lovely place." + +"Let them go," said the Drones who stayed behind. "Now, isn't it time to +let out the young Queen?" + +"Not yet," answered a Worker, who stood near the door. "Not one feeler +shall she put outside her cell until that swarm is out of sight." + +The tender-hearted Worker came up wiping her eyes. "Oh, that poor Queen +Mother!" said she. "I am so sorry for her. I positively cannot gather +honey to-day, I feel so badly about her going." + +"Better keep on working," said her friend. "It's the best thing in the +world for that sad feeling. Besides, you should try to keep strong." + +"Oh, I will try to eat something from the comb," was the answer, "but I +don't feel like working." + +"Zzzt!" said the other Worker. "I think if you can eat, you can hunt +your food outside, and not take honey we have laid up for winter or food +that will be needed for the children." + +The Drones chuckled. It was all right for them to be lazy, they thought, +but they never could bear to see a Worker waste time. "Ah," cried one of +them suddenly, "what is the new swarm doing now?" + +The words were hardly out of his mouth when the Queen Mother crawled +into the hive again. "Such dreadful luck!" said she. "A cloud passed +over the sun just as we were alighting on a tree to rest." + +"I wouldn't have come back for that," said a Drone. + +"No," said she, in her airiest way, "I dare say you wouldn't, but I +would. I dare not go to a new home after a cloud has passed over the +sun. I think it is a sign of bad luck. I should never expect a single +egg to hatch if I went on. We shall try it again to-morrow." + +All the others came back with her, and the hive was once more crowded +and hot. "Oh dear!" said the tender-hearted Worker, "isn't it too bad to +think they couldn't go?" + +The next morning they started again and were quite as excited over it as +before. The Queen Mother had fussed and fidgeted all the time, although +she had laid nine hundred and seventy-three eggs while waiting, and that +in spite of interruptions. "Being busy keeps me from thinking," said +she, "and I must do something." This time the Queen Mother lighted on an +apple-tree branch, and the others clung to her until all who had left +the hive were in a great mass on the branch,--a mass as large as a small +cabbage. They meant to rest a little while and then fly away to the new +home chosen by their guides. + +While they were hanging here, the farmer came under the tree, carrying +a long pole with a wire basket fastened to the upper end. He shook the +clustered Bees gently into it, and then changed them into an empty hive +that stood beside their old home. + +"Now," said the Workers who had stayed in the old hive, "we will let out +the new Queen, for the Queen Mother will never return." + +It did not take long to bite away the waxen wall and let her out. Then +they gathered around and caressed her, and touched their feelers to her +and waited upon her, and explained why they could not let her out +sooner. She was still a soft gray color, like all young Bees when they +first come from the cell, but this soon changed to the black worn by her +people. + +The Workers flew in and out, and brought news from the hive next door. +They could not go there, for the law does not allow a Bee who lives in +one home to visit in another, but they met their old friends in the air +or when they were sipping honey. They found that the Queen Mother had +quite given up the idea of living elsewhere and was as busy as ever. The +farmer had put a piece of comb into the new hive so that she could begin +housekeeping at once. + +The new Queen was petted and kept at home until she was strong and used +to moving about. That was not long. Then she said she wanted to see the +world outside. "We will go with you," said the Drones, who were always +glad of an excuse for flying away in pleasant weather. They said there +was so much noise and hurrying around in the hive that they could never +get any real rest there during the daytime. + +So the young Queen flew far away and saw the beautiful world for the +first time. Such a blue sky! Such green grass! Such fine trees covered +with sweet-smelling blossoms! She loved it all as soon as she saw it. +"Ah," she cried, "what a wonderful thing it is to live and see all this! +I am so glad that I was hatched. But now I must hurry home, for there is +so much to be done." + +She was a fine young Queen, and the Bees were all proud of her. They let +her do anything she wished as long as she kept away from the royal +cells. She soon began to work as the old Queen Mother had done, and was +very happy in her own way. She would have liked to open the royal cells +and prevent more Queens from hatching, and when they told her it was the +law which made them keep her away, she still wanted to bite into them. + +"That poor young Queen Mother!" sighed the tender-hearted Worker. "I am +so sorry for her when she is kept away from the royal cells. This is a +sad, sad world!" But this isn't a sad world by any means. It is a +beautiful, sunshiny, happy world, and neither Queen Bees nor anybody +else should think it hard if they cannot do every single thing they +wish. The law looks after great and small, and there is no use in +pouting because we cannot do one certain thing, when there is any amount +of delightful work and play awaiting us. And the young Queen Mother knew +this. + + + + +THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND + + +The span of Bays were talking together in their stalls, and the other +Horses were listening. That was one trouble with living in the barn, you +could not say anything to your next-door neighbor without somebody else +hearing. The farmer had solid walls between the stalls, with openings so +far back that no Horse could get his head to them without breaking his +halter. This had been done to keep them from biting each other, and as +nobody but the Dappled Gray ever thought of doing such a thing, it was +rather hard on the rest. It made it difficult for the mothers to bring +up their children properly, for after a Colt was old enough to have a +stall to himself, his mother had to call out her advice and warnings so +loudly that everybody could hear, and you know it is not well to reprove +a child before company if it can be helped. Indeed, it was this very +question that was troubling the span of Bays now. Each of them had a +two-year-old Colt, and they knew that it was nearly time for the farmer +to put these Colts to work. The span of Bays were sisters, so of course +their children were cousins, and they were all very fond of each other +and of the Blind Horse, who was the uncle of the Bays and the +great-uncle of the Bay Colt and the Gray Colt. + +"I am worried about the Bay Colt," said his mother. "Since he was +brought into the barn last fall and had a stall away from me, he has +gotten into bad ways. I have told him again and again that he must not +nibble the edge of the manger, yet the first thing I heard this morning +was the grating of his teeth on the wood." + +"Well," said his aunt, "you know he is teething, and that may be the +reason." + +"That is no excuse," said his mother sternly. "He has been teething ever +since he was five days old, and he will not cut his last tooth for three +years yet. I don't call it goodness to keep from cribbing when you don't +want to crib, and the time to stop is now. Besides, if he waits until he +has all his teeth, he won't be able to break himself of the habit when +he does try." + +"That is so," said his aunt, "and he will ruin his teeth, too." + +"Pooh!" exclaimed the Bay Colt, who had heard what they were saying. "I +can stop whenever I want to, and they're my own teeth, anyway. It isn't +anybody else's business if I do ruin them." + +"There!" said his mother to his aunt, "you see what I mean. That is just +the way he talks all the time. Now what would you do?" + +"Let him alone," snorted the Dappled Gray. "Let him alone, and he will +get some Horse sense after he has been broken. He'll have a hard time of +it, but he'll come out all right." + +The Bay Colt kicked against the side of the stall, he was so vexed. +"I'll thank you to let me alone," said he. "I don't see why everybody +tells me what I ought to do. Guess I know a thing or two." + +"I'll tell you why," said the Dappled Gray, in a voice that sounded as +though he were trying very hard not to lose his temper. "It is because +you are young and we like you, and we can save you trouble if you mind +what we tell you. I had lost the black pits in my front teeth before you +were born, and when a Horse has lived long enough to lose the black pits +from his front teeth, he knows a good deal. You don't know a curb-bit +from a snaffle now, but you will learn many things when you are +broken--a very great many things." + +The Bay Colt tossed his head and did not answer. When he was led out to +drink, the Dappled Gray spoke quickly to his friends. "We will let him +alone," said he, "as he wishes. We will not advise him until he asks us +to do so." They were all whinnying "Yes" when the Bay Colt came back. +Then it became so still that you could have heard a stem of hay drop. + +For a few days after this, the Bay Colt had a very good time. Nobody +gave him any advice, and even when he gnawed at the edge of the manger, +his mother did not seem to notice it. After he found that she didn't say +anything, he didn't gnaw, or crib, so much. He was such a foolish and +contrary young fellow that when people told him not to do a thing, he +always wanted to do that thing worse than anything else in the world. +His cousin, the Gray Colt, was not at all like him. She was a gentle +little two-year-old whom everybody loved. She was full of fun and was +the gayest possible companion in the meadow, yet when the older Horses +gave her advice, she always listened and obeyed. + +The Bay Colt was very fond of his cousin, but he did like to tease her, +and once in the fall, before they came to stay in the barn, he called +her a "goody-goody" because she wouldn't jump the fence and run away +with him. He said she wouldn't do such things because she didn't know +what fun was. Then she did show that she had a temper, for her brown +eyes snapped and her soft lips were raised until she showed all her +biting teeth. "I'm not a 'goody-goody,'" she cried, stamping the ground +with her pretty little hoofs, "and I just ache to go. I feel as though +there were ropes that I couldn't see, pulling me toward that fence +every time I think of it, but I won't go! I won't go! My mother says +that she jumped a fence and ran away when she was a Colt, and that she +felt as mean as could be afterward." + +"I don't care," said her cousin, "I'm going anyway, and you can stay at +home if you want to. Good-bye!" He ran and leaped over the fence, and +trotted down the road with his head well up and his tail in the air. And +then how the Gray Colt did want to follow! "I won't!" she said again. "I +won't do it. I'll look the other way and try to forget it, but I wish he +knew how hard it is to be good sometimes." + +The next morning the Bay Colt was in the pasture again. The farmer and +his man had found him far away and led him back. "I had a fine time," he +said to his cousin, "and I don't feel a bit mean. I'm going again +to-day, but don't you tell." When his mother scolded him as he +deserved, he just switched his tail and thought about something else +until she stopped talking. Then he ran away again. + +The next morning when the Gray Colt saw him, he had a queer wooden thing +around his neck, and fastened to this was a pole that stuck out ahead of +him. It tired his neck and bothered him when he wanted to run. If he had +tried to jump the fence, it would have thrown him down. When the Gray +Colt came toward him, he pretended not to see her. He might just as well +have looked squarely at her as soon as she came, because, you know, he +had to look at her sometime, but he had a mean, slinking, afraid +feeling, such as people always have when they have done something wrong +and have had time to think about it. Besides, he had changed his mind +since the wooden poke had been put on him, and somehow his running away +seemed very foolish now. He wondered how he could ever have thought it +any fun, and he was so disgusted that he couldn't keep his ears still, +but moved them restlessly when he remembered his own silliness. + +The Gray Colt was too polite to say anything about his wearing the poke, +and she talked about the grass, the sky, the trees, and everything else +she could think of. Once she was about to speak of the fence, and then +she remembered and stopped short. The Bay Colt noticed this. "You might +just as well go on," said he. "You are very kind, but I know how foolish +I have been, and there's no use in keeping still. You were right, and it +doesn't pay to jump fences for a few minutes of what you think will be +fun. I feel sick all over when I think about it." + +"It's too bad," whinnied the Gray Colt. "I'm very sorry for you." + +"And what do you think?" said the Bay Colt. "I heard the Dappled Gray +say this morning that I was like a Pig! Imagine a Colt being like a Pig! +He said that it didn't make any difference on which side of a fence Pigs +were, they always wanted to be on the other side, and that I was just as +stupid." + +This was all in the fall, before the cold weather had sent them to live +in the barn, and while the Bay Colt was wearing the poke he could not +well forget the lesson he had learned about jumping and running away. +His mother grew quite proud of him, and the Dappled Gray had been heard +to say that he might amount to something yet. That was a great deal for +the Dappled Gray to say, for although he had a very kind heart, he did +not often praise people, and hardly ever said such things about +two-year-olds. That made it all the harder for him when the Bay Colt +became cross over being told to stop cribbing. + +You know there are some Colts who learn obedience easily, and there are +others who have one hard struggle to stop jumping, and another to stop +cribbing, and another to stop kicking, and so on, all through their +Colthood. The older Horses are sorry for them and try to help them, for +they know that neither Colt nor Horse can really enjoy life until he is +trying to do right. To be sure, people sometimes do wrong even then, but +if they will take advice and keep on trying they are certain to turn out +well. + +And now, when the Bay Colt seemed to have forgotten the lesson he had in +the fall, and after he had told the other Horses to let him alone, very +strange things began to happen. The farmer took him from his stall and +made him open his mouth. Then a piece of iron was slipped into it, which +lay on top of his tongue and fitted into the place on each side of his +jaw where there were no teeth. Long lines were fastened to this iron on +either side, and when he tossed his head and sidled around, these lines +were gently pulled by the farmer and the iron bit pressed down his +tongue. + +The farmer was very kind, but the Bay Colt did not want the bit in his +mouth, so he acted as ugly as he knew how, and kicked, and snapped with +his jaws open, and tried to run. The farmer did not grow angry or cross, +yet whenever the Bay Colt showed his temper, the bit would press down +his tongue and stretch the corners of his mouth until he had to stop. +Once in a while the farmer would try to pat him and show him that it was +all right, but the Bay Colt would not have this, and he was a very cross +and sweaty two-year-old when he was taken back to his stall. + +He missed the Gray Colt from her usual place, but soon she came in with +one of the farmer's men. She had been driven for the first time also. + +"Hallo!" said he. "Have you had a bit in your mouth too? Wasn't it +dreadful? I am so angry that my hoofs fairly tingle to hit that farmer." + +"It was hard," said the Gray Colt, "but the man who drove me was very +kind and let me rest often. He patted me, too, and that helped me to be +brave. My mother says we won't mind the bit at all after we are used to +it." + +"Well," said the Bay Colt, "I'm never going to be used to it. I won't +stand it, and that's all there is about it." He stamped his hoofs and +looked very important. Two-year-olds often look quite as important as +ten-year-olds, and they feel much more so. The Bay Colt was rather proud +of his feet, and thought it much nicer to have solid hoofs than to have +them split, like those of the Cows, the Hogs, and the Sheep. + +[Illustration: HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES.] + +When he said that he would not stand it to be driven, a queer little +sound ran through the stalls. It was like the wind passing over a +wheatfield, and was caused by the older Horses taking a long breath and +whispering to themselves. The Bay Colt's mother was saying, "Poor child! +What hard work he does make of life!" + +The next day both Colts were driven again, and the next day, and the +next, and the next. By this time the Gray Colt was quite used to it. She +said she rather enjoyed knowing what the man was thinking, and that she +could tell his thoughts by the feeling of the lines, much as she used to +understand her mother by rubbing noses when she was a tiny Colt. Her +cousin had a sore mouth from jerking on the lines, and he could not +enjoy eating at all. That made it even harder for him, because he got +very hungry, and it is not so easy to be sensible when one is hungry. + +When the Gray Colt learned to walk steadily and turn as her driver +wished, she was allowed to draw a light log through the furrows of a +field. This tired her, but it made her very proud, and she arched her +neck and took the daintiest of steps. It was not necessary that the log +should be drawn over the field; still, she did not know this, and +thought it was real work, when it was done only to teach her to pull. +The man who was driving her patted her neck and held her nose in his +hand. When he stopped to eat an apple, he gave her the core, and she +thought she had never tasted anything so good. As she went back to her +stall, she called to the Horses near, "I have been working. I have drawn +a log all around a field." + +The Blind Horse spoke softly to her. "You will have a happy life, my +dear, because you are a willing worker." + +Although the Bay Colt didn't say anything, he thought a great deal, and +about many things. While he was thinking he began to crib, but the +noise of his biting teeth on the wood startled him, and he shook his +head and whispered to himself, "I will never crib again." When he ate +his supper, his sore mouth hurt him, but he didn't whimper. "You deserve +it," he said to himself. "It wouldn't have been sore if you had been +steady like your cousin." The Bay Colt was growing sensible very fast. + +The Dappled Gray had noticed how suddenly he stopped cribbing, and so +watched him for a few days. He saw that the Bay Colt was in earnest, +that he drew the log up and down without making any fuss, and was soon +hitched with his mother to a plow. The Dappled Gray and the Blind Horse +were also plowing that day, and they called across from their field. +"Fine day for plowing," they said. + +"Perfect," answered the Bay Colt. "Did you notice the last furrow we +turned? Can you do any better than that? If I had jumped, it would have +been crooked instead of straight; and if I had stopped, it would not be +done yet." + +"Good furrow! Wonderful furrow!" answered the Dappled Gray. "Always knew +you'd be a good worker when you got down to it. You are one of us now, +one of the working Horses. Glad of it. Good-bye!" And he turned away to +start his plow across the field again. + +"Do you like being grown up?" said the Bay Colt's mother to him. + +"Like it?" he answered with a laugh. "I'm so proud that I don't know +what to do. I wouldn't go back to the old life of all play for anything +in the world. And my little cousin made me see my mistakes. Was there +ever another Colt as foolish as I?" + +"A great many of them," said his mother. "More than you would guess. +They kick and bite and try to run because they cannot always have their +own way; and then, when they have tried the farmer's way, and begin to +pay for his care of them, they find it very much better than the life of +all play. Colts will be Colts." + + + + +THE TWIN LAMBS + + +There was a Lamb, a bright, frisky young fellow, who had a twin sister. +Their mother loved them both and was as kind to one as to the other, but +the brother wanted to have the best of everything, and sometimes he even +bunted his sister with his hard little forehead. His mother had to speak +to him many times about this, for he was one of those trying children +who will not mind when first spoken to. + +He did not really mean to be naughty--he was only strong and frisky and +thoughtless. Sometimes he was even rude to his mother. She felt very sad +when this was so, yet she loved him dearly and found many excuses for +him in her own heart. + +There were three other pairs of twins in the flock that year, and as +their mothers were not strong enough to care for two Lambs apiece, the +farmer had taken one twin from each pair to a little pen near the house. +Here they stayed, playing happily together, and drinking milk from a +bottle which the farmer's wife brought to them. They were hungry very +often, like all young children, and when their stomachs began to feel +empty, or even to feel as if they might feel empty, they crowded against +the side of the pen, pushed their pinkish-white noses through the +openings between the boards, and bleated and bleated and bleated to the +farmer's wife. + +Soon she would come from the kitchen door and in her hand would bring +the big bottle full of milk for them. There was a soft rubber top to +this bottle, through which the Lambs could draw the milk into their +mouths. Of course they all wanted to drink at once, though there was +only a chance for one, and the others always became impatient while they +were waiting. The farmer's wife was patient, even when the Lambs, in +their hurry to get the milk, took her fingers into their mouths and bit +them instead of the top of the bottle. + +Our twin Lamb wanted to have his sister taken into the pen with the +other three, and he spoke about it to his mother. "I know how you can +manage," said he. "Whenever she comes near you, just walk away from her, +and then the farmer will take her up to the pen." + +"You selfish fellow!" answered his mother. "Do you want your dear little +twin sister to leave us?" + +He hung his head for a minute, but replied, "She'd have just as good a +time. They have all they can eat up there, and they have lots of fun." + +[Illustration: FEEDING THE LAMBS.] + +"If you think it is so pleasant in the pen," said his mother, "suppose I +begin to walk away from you, and let the farmer take you away. I think +your sister would rather stay with me." + +"Oh, no!" cried her son. "I don't want to leave my own dear woolly +mother! I want to cuddle up to you every night and have you tell me +stories about the stars." + +"Do you think you love me very much?" said she. "You don't know how to +really love yet, for you are selfish, and there is not room in a selfish +heart for the best kind of love." + +That made the Lamb feel very badly. "I do love her dearly," he cried, as +he stood alone. "I believe I love her ever so much more than my sister +does." + +That was where the little fellow was mistaken, for although his sister +did not talk so much about it, she showed her love in many other ways. +If she had been taken from her mother for even a few days, they could +never again have had such sweet and happy days together. Sheep look +much alike, and they cannot remember each other's faces very long. If a +Lamb is taken away from his mother for even a short time, they do not +know each other when they meet afterward. Perhaps this is one reason why +they keep together so much, for it would be sad indeed not to know one's +mother or one's child. + +His sister never knew that he had wanted her taken away. She thought he +acted queerly sometimes, but she was so loving and unselfish herself +that she did not dream of his selfishness. Instead of putting the idea +out of his woolly little head, as he could have done by thinking more of +other things, the brother let himself think of it more and more. That +made him impatient with even his mother, and he often answered her quite +crossly. Sometimes, when she spoke to him, he did not answer at all, and +that was just as bad. + +His mother would sigh and say to herself, "My child is not a comfort to +me after all, yet when I looked for the first time into his dear little +face, I thought that as long as I had him beside me I should always be +happy." + +One night, when the weather was fair and warm, the farmer drove all the +Sheep and Lambs into the Sheep-shed. They had been lying out under the +beautiful blue sky at night, and they did not like this nearly so well. +They did not understand it either, so they were frightened and +bewildered, and bleated often to each other, "What is this for? What is +this for?" + +The Lambs did not mind it so much, for they were not warmly dressed, but +the Sheep, whose wool had been growing for a year and was long and +heavy, found it very close and uncomfortable. They did not know that the +farmer had a reason for keeping them dry that night while the heavy dew +was falling outside. The same thing was done every year, but they could +not remember so long as that, and having a poor memory is always hard. + +"Stay close to me, children," said the mother of the twins. "I may +forget how you look if you are away long." + +"It seems to me," said the brother, "that we always have to stay close +to you. I never have a bit of fun!" + +When they had cuddled down for the night, the twin Lambs slept soundly. +Their mother lay awake for a long, long time in the dark, and she was +not happy. A few careless words from a selfish little Lamb had made her +heart ache. They were not true words either, for during the daytime her +children ran with their playmates and had fine frolics. Still, we know +that when people are out of patience they often say things that are not +really so. + +In the morning, men came into the barn, which opened off the +Sheep-shed. They had on coarse, old clothing, and carried queer-looking +shears in their hands. The Sheep could see them now and then when the +door was open. Once the farmer stood in the doorway and seemed to be +counting them. This made them huddle together more closely than ever. +They could see the men carrying clean yellow straw into the barn and +spreading it on the floor. On top of this was stretched a great sheet of +clean cloth. + +Then the men began to come into the shed and catch the Sheep and carry +them into the barn. They were frightened and bleated a good deal, but +when one was caught and carried away, although he might struggle hard to +free himself, he did not open his mouth. The old Wether Sheep was the +first to be taken, and then the young ones who had been Lambs the year +before. For a long time not one of the mothers was chosen. Still, nobody +knew what would happen next, and so, the fewer Sheep there were left, +the more closely they huddled together. + +At last, when the young Sheep had all been taken, one of the men caught +the mother of the twins and carried her away. She turned her face toward +her children, but the door swung shut after her, and they were left with +the other Lambs and their mothers. From the barn came the sound of +snip-snip-snipping and the murmur of men's voices. Once the twins +thought they saw their mother lying on the floor and a man kneeling +beside her, holding her head and forelegs under his arm, yet they were +not sure of this. + +The brother ran to the corner of the shed and put his head against the +boards. He suddenly felt very young and helpless. "My dear woolly +mother!" he said to himself, over and over, and he wondered if he would +ever see her again. He remembered what he had said to her the night +before. It seemed to him that he could even now hear his own voice +saying crossly, "Seems to me we always have to stay close to you. I +never have a bit of fun!" He wished he had not said it. He knew she was +a dear mother, and he would have given anything in the world for a +chance to stay close to her again. + +His sister felt as lonely and frightened as he, but she did not act in +the same way. She stood close to a younger Lamb whose mother had just +been taken away, and tried to comfort her. One by one the mothers were +taken until only the Lambs remained. They were very hungry now, and +bleated pitifully. Still the twin brother stood with his head in the +corner. He had closed his eyes, but now he opened them, and through a +crack in the wall of the shed, he saw some very slender and +white-looking Sheep turned into the meadow. At first they acted dizzy, +and staggered instead of walking straight; then they stopped staggering +and began to frisk. "Can it be?" said he. "It surely is!" For, although +he had never in his short life seen a newly shorn Sheep, he began to +understand what had happened. + +He knew that the men had only been clipping the long wool from the +Sheep, and that they were now ready for warm weather. No wonder they +frisked when their heavy burdens of wool were carefully taken off. + +Now the farmer opened the door into the barn again, and let the Lambs +walk through it to the gate of the meadow. They had never before been +inside this barn, and the twin brother looked quickly around as he +scampered across the floor. He saw some great ragged bundles of wool, +and a man was just rolling up the last fleece. He wondered if that had +been taken from his mother and was the very one against which he had +cuddled when he was cold or frightened. + +When they first reached the pasture, the Lambs could not tell which +were their mothers. Shearing off their long and dingy fleeces had made +such a difference in their looks! The twin brother knew his mother by +her way of walking and by her voice, but he could see that his sister +did not know her at all. He saw his mother wandering around as though +she did not know where to find her children, and a naughty plan came +into his head. If he could keep his sister from finding their mother for +even a short time, he knew that the farmer would take her up to the pen. +He thought he knew just how to do it, and he started to run to her. Then +he stopped and remembered how sad and lonely he had been without his +mother only a little while before, and he began to pity the Lambs in the +pen. + +Now his selfishness and his goodness were fighting hard in him. One +said, "Send your sister away," and the other, "Take her to your mother." +At last he ran as fast as he could toward his sister. "I am good now," +he said to himself, "but it may not last long. I will tell her before I +am naughty again." + +"Oh sister!" cried he. "Come with me to our mother. She doesn't know +where to find us." + +He saw a happy look on his sister's sad little face, and he was glad +that he had done the right thing. They skipped away together, kicking up +their heels as they went, and it seemed to the brother that he had never +been so happy in his life. He was soon to be happier, though, for when +they reached his "new, white mother," as he called her, and his sister +told her how he had shown her the way, his mother said, "Now you are a +comfort to me. You will be a happier Lamb, too, for you know that a +mother's heart is large enough for all her children, and that the more +one loves, the better he loves." + +"Why, of course," said the twin sister. "What do you mean?" + +But the mother never told her, and the brother never told her, and it is +hoped that you will keep the secret. + + + + +THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE + + +The Mice who lived in the barn and around the granaries had many cousins +living on the farm who were pleasant people to know. Any one could tell +by looking at them that they were related, yet there were differences in +size, in the coloring of their fur, in their voices, and most of all in +their ways of living. Some of these cousins would come to visit at the +barn in winter, when there was little to eat in the fields. The Meadow +Mice never did this. They were friendly with the people who came from +the farmyard to graze in the meadow, yet when they were asked to return +the call, they said, "No, thank you. We are an out-of-door family, and +we never enter houses. We do not often go to the farmyard, but we are +always glad to see you here. Come again." + +When the Cows are in the meadow, they watch for these tiny people, and +stop short if they hear their voices from the grass near by. Of course +the Horses are careful, for Horses will never step on any person, large +or small, if they can help it. They are very particular about this. + +All through the meadow you can see, if you look sharply, shallow winding +paths among the grasses, and these paths are worn by the running to and +fro of the Meadow Mice. Their homes are in stumps of trees or in the +higher ground near the ditches. In these homes the baby Meadow Mice stay +until they are large enough to go out into the great world and eat +roots, grasses, and seeds with their fathers and mothers. Sometimes they +do go out a little way with their mother before this, and they go in a +very funny fashion. Of course, when they are babies, they drink warm +milk from her body as the children of most four-legged people do. +Sometimes a young Meadow Mouse does not want to stop drinking his milk +when it is time for his mother to leave the nest, so he just hangs on to +her with his tiny, toothless mouth, and when she goes she drags him +along on the ground beside her. The ground is rather rough for such soft +little babies, and they do not go far in this way, but are glad enough +to snuggle down again with their brothers and sisters. + +There is no danger of their being lonely, even when their mother is +away, for the Meadow Mice have large families, and where there are ten +babies of the same age, or even only six, which is thought a small +family among their people, it is not possible for one to feel alone. + +There were two fine Meadow Mice who built their nest in the bank of a +ditch and were much liked by all their relatives. They had raised many +children to full-grown Mousehood, and were kind and wise parents. When +their children were married and had homes of their own, they still liked +to come back to visit. The father and mother were gentle and kindly, as +all Mice are, and were almost as handsome as when they first began to +gnaw. Nobody could say that he ever saw a bit of dust on either of them. + +The brown fur of the upper part of their bodies and the grayish-white +fur underneath always lay sleek and tidy, and from their long whiskers +to the tips of their hairless tails, they were as dainty as possible. +That was one reason why they were so fine-looking, for you know it makes +no difference how beautiful one may be in the first place, if he does +not try to keep clean he is not pleasant to look at, while many quite +plain people are charming because they look well and happy and clean. + +Now this pair of Mice had eight Mouse babies in their nest. The babies +were no larger than Bumble Bees at first and very pink. This was not +because their fur was pink, but only because it was so very short that +through it and their thin skin one saw the glow of the red blood in +their veins. + +"Did you ever see such beautiful babies?" said their mother proudly to +her neighbors. "They are certainly the finest I ever had." Her friends +smiled, for she always said the same thing whenever she had little ones. +Yet they understood, for they had children of their own, and knew that +although mothers love all alike, there is always a time when the +youngest seems the most promising. That is before they are old enough to +be naughty. + +The days passed, and the eight baby Meadow Mice ate and slept and pushed +each other around, and talked in their sweet, squeaky little voices. +They were less pink every day and more the color of their father and +mother. They grew, too, so fast that the nest was hardly large enough +for them, and the teeth were showing in their tiny pink mouths. Their +mother saw that they would soon be ready to go out into the world, and +she began to teach them the things they needed to know. She took them +outside the nest each pleasant day and gave them lessons in running and +gnawing, and showed them how to crouch down on the brown earth and lie +still until danger was past. After she had told them many things, she +would ask them short questions to make sure that they remembered. + +"How many great dangers are there?" she said. + +"Five," answered the little Mice. + +"What are they?" + +"Hawks, Owls, Weasels, Cats, and men." + +"Tell me about Hawks." + +"Hawks are big birds who seem to float in the air. They have very sharp +eyes, and when they see a Mouse they drop suddenly down and catch him. +They fly in the daytime." + +"Tell me about Owls." + +"They are big birds who fly by night without making any noise. They can +see from far away, and they catch Mice." + +"Tell me about Weasels." + +"They are slender little animals, nearly twice as long as a Mouse. They +have small heads, four short legs, and sharp claws; have brown fur on +their backs and white underneath, and sometimes, when the weather is +very cold, they turn white all over." + +"Tell me about Cats." + +"Cats are very much bigger than Weasels, and are of many colors. They +have long tails and whiskers, and dreadful great eyes. They walk on four +legs, but make no noise because they have cushions on their feet." + +"Tell me about men." + +"Men are very big, two-legged people, and when they are fully grown are +taller than Cows. They make noise in walking, and they can neither smell +nor see us from afar." + +"And what are you to do when you see these dangers coming?" + +"We are to run away as fast as we can from Hawks, Weasels, Owls, and +Cats. If a man comes near us, we are to lie perfectly still and watch +him, and are not to move unless we are sure that he sees us or is likely +to step on us. Men do not know so much about Mice as the other dangers +do." + +"And what if you are not sure that some creature is a Hawk, an Owl, a +Weasel, or a Cat?" + +"If we even think it may be, we are to run." + +"When are you to run?" + +"At once." + +"Say that again." + +"We are to run at once." + +"Very good. That is all for to-day." + +You can see how well the Meadow Mouse mother brought up her children, +and how carefully she taught them about life. If they had been wise and +always minded her, they would have saved themselves much trouble. + +Seven of them were dutiful and obedient, but the largest of the eight, +and the finest-looking, liked to decide things for himself, and often +laughed at his brothers and sisters for being afraid. Because he was so +big and handsome, and spoke in such a dashing way, they sometimes +wondered if he didn't know as much as their mother. + +One sunshiny day, when all the eight children were playing and feeding +together in the short grass, one of them saw a great black bird in the +air. "Oh, look!" she cried. "That may be a Hawk. We'd better run." + +"Pooh!" said the biggest little Meadow Mouse. "Who's afraid?" + +"Mother said to run," they squeaked, and seven long bare tails whisked +out of sight under a stump. + +"Ho-ho!" said the biggest little Meadow Mouse. "Before I'd be so scared! +I dare you to come back! I dare you to----" + +Just then the Hawk swooped down. And that is the end of the story, for +after that, there was no foolish little Meadow Mouse to tell about. + + + + +THE LONELY LITTLE PIG + + +One day the Brown Hog called to her twelve young Pigs and their ten +older brothers and sisters, "Look! look! What is in that cage?" + +The twenty-two stubby snouts that were thrust through the opening of the +rail-fence were quivering with eagerness and impatience. Their owners +wished to know all that was happening, and the old mother's eyes were +not so sharp as they had once been, so if the Pigs wanted to know the +news, they must stop their rooting to find it out. Bits of the soft +brown earth clung to their snouts and trembled as they breathed. + +"It looks like a Pig," they said, "only it is white." + +"It is a Pig then," grunted their mother, as she lay in the shade of an +oak tree. "There are white Pigs, although I never fancied the color. It +looks too cold and clean. Brown is more to my taste, brown or black. +Your poor father was brown and black, and a finer looking Hog I never +saw. Ugh! Ugh!" And she buried her eyes in the loose earth. The Pigs +looked at her and then at each other. They did not often speak of their +father. Indeed the younger ones did not remember him at all. One of the +Cows said he had such a bad temper that the farmer sent him away, and it +is certain that none of them had seen him since the day he was driven +down the lane. + +While they were thinking of this and feeling rather sad, the wagon +turned into their lane and they could plainly see the Pig inside. She +was white and quite beautiful in her piggish way. Her ears stood up +stiffly, her snout was as stubby as though it had been broken off, her +eyes were very small, and her tail had the right curl. When she squealed +they could see her sharp teeth, and when she put her feet up on the +wooden bars of her rough cage, they noticed the fine hoofs on the two +big toes of each foot and the two little toes high on the back of her +legs, each with its tiny hoof. She was riding in great style, and it is +no wonder that the twenty-two Brown Pigs with black spots and black feet +opened their eyes very wide. They did not know that the farmer brought +her in this way because he was in a hurry, and Pigs will not make haste +when farmers want them to. The Hogs are a queer family, and the Off Ox +spoke truly when he said that the only way to make one hurry ahead is to +tie a rope to his leg and pull back, they are so sure to be contrary. + +"She's coming here!" the Brown Pigs cried. "Oh, Mother, she's coming +here! We're going to see the men take her out of her cage." + +The old Hog grunted and staggered to her feet to go with them, but she +was fat and slow of motion, so that by the time she was fairly standing, +they were far down the field and running helter-skelter by the side of +the fence. As she stared dully after them she could see the twenty-two +curly tails bobbing along, and she heard the soft patter of eighty-eight +sharp little double hoofs on the earth. + +"Ugh!" she grunted. "Ugh! Ugh! I am too late to go. Never mind! They +will tell me all about it, and I can take a nap. I haven't slept half +the time to-day, and I need rest." + +Just as the Mother Hog lay down again, the men lifted the White Pig from +the wagon, cage and all, so she began to squeal, and she squealed and +squealed and squealed and squealed until she was set free in the field +with the Brown Pigs. Nobody had touched her and nobody had hurt her, +but it was all so strange and new that she thought it would make her +feel better to squeal. When she was out of her cage and in the field, +she planted her hoofs firmly in the ground, looked squarely at the Brown +Pigs, and grunted a pleasant, good-natured grunt. The Brown Pigs planted +their hoofs in the ground and grunted and stared. They didn't ask her to +go rooting with them, and not one of the ten big Pigs or the twelve +little Pigs said, "We are glad to see you." + +There is no telling how long they would have stood there if the Horses +had not turned the wagon just then. The minute the wheels began to grate +on the side of the box, every Brown Pig whirled around and ran off. + +The poor little White Pig did not know what to make of it. She knew that +she had not done anything wrong. She wondered if they didn't mean to +speak to her. + +[Illustration: EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF.] + +At first she thought she would run after them and ask to root with them, +but then she remembered something her mother had told her when she was +so young that she was pink. It was this: "When you don't know what to +do, go to sleep." So she lay down and took a nap. + +The Brown Pigs did not awaken their mother, and when they stopped in the +fence-corner one of them said to their big sister, "What made you run?" + +"Oh, nothing," said she. + +"And why did you run?" the little Pigs asked their big brother. + +"Because," he answered. + +After a while somebody said, "Let's go back to where the White Pig is." + +"Oh, no," said somebody else, "don't let's! She can come over here if +she wants to, and it isn't nearly so nice there." + +You see, they were very rude Pigs and not at all well brought up. Their +mother should have taught them to think of others and be kind, which is +really all there is to politeness. But then, she had very little time +left from sleeping, and it took her all of that for eating, so her +children had no manners at all. + +At last the White Pig opened her round eyes and saw all the Brown Pigs +at the farther end of the field. "Ugh!" said she to herself, "Ugh! I +must decide what to do before they see that I am awake." She lay there +and tried to think what her mother, who came of a very fine family, had +told her before she left. "If you have nobody to play with," her mother +had said, "don't stop to think about it, and don't act as though you +cared. Have a good time by yourself and you will soon have company. If +you cannot enjoy yourself, you must not expect others to enjoy you." + +"That is what I will do," exclaimed the White Pig. "My mother always +gives her children good advice when they go out into the world, and she +is right when she says that Pigs of fine family should have fine +manners. I will never forget that I am a Yorkshire. I'm glad I didn't +say anything mean." + +So the White Pig rooted in the sunshine and wallowed in the warm brown +earth that she had stirred up with her pink snout. Once in a while she +would run to the fence to watch somebody in the lane, and before she +knew it she was grunting contentedly to herself. "Really," she said, "I +am almost having a good time. I will keep on making believe that I would +rather do this than anything else." + + * * * * * + +The big sister of the Brown Pigs looked over to the White Pig and said, +"She's having lots of fun all by herself, it seems to me." + +Big brother raised his head. "Let's call her over here," he answered. + +"Oh, do!" cried the twelve little Pigs, wriggling their tails. "She +looks so full of fun." + +"Call her yourself," said the big sister to the big brother. + +"Ugh!" called he. "Ugh! Ugh! Don't you want to come over with us, White +Pig?" + +You can imagine how the White Pig felt when she heard this; how her +small eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up more than +ever. She was just about to scamper over and root with them, when she +remembered something else that her mother had told her: "Never run after +other Pigs. Let them run after you. Then they will think more of you." + +She called back, "I'm having too good a time here to leave my +rooting-ground. Won't you come over here?" + +"Come on," cried all the little Pigs to each other. "Beat you there!" + +They ate and talked and slept together all afternoon, and when the Brown +Hog called her children home, they and the White Pig were the best of +friends. "Just think," they said to their mother, "the White Pig let us +visit her, and she is just as nice as she can be." + +The White Pig in her corner of the pen heard this and smiled to herself. +"My mother was right," she said; "'Have a good time alone, and everybody +will want to come.'" + + + + +THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF + + +"I think," said the Blind Horse, "that something is the matter with my +ears." He and the Dappled Gray had been doing field-work all the +morning, and were now eating a hearty dinner in their stalls. They were +the only people on the first floor of the barn. Even the stray Doves who +had wandered in the open door were out in the sunshine once more. Once +in a while the whirr of wings told that some Swallow darted through the +window into the loft above and flew to her nest under the roof. There +was a deep and restful quiet in the sun-warmed air, and yet the Blind +Horse had seemed to be listening to something which the other did not +hear. + +The Dappled Gray stopped eating at once. "Your ears?" said he. "What is +wrong with them? I thought your hearing was very good." + +"It always has been," was the answer, "and finer than ever since I lost +my sight. You know it is always so with us blind people. We learn to +hear better than we could before losing our sight. But ever since we +came in from the field I have had a queer sound in my ears, and I think +there is something the matter with them." + +The Dappled Gray stopped eating and stood perfectly still to listen. He +did not even switch his tail, although at that minute there were three +Flies on his left side and one on his neck. He was trying as hard as he +could to hear the queer sound also, for if he did, it would prove that +the noise was real and that the Blind Horse's hearing was all right. + +He could not hear a thing. "What is it like?" he asked. + +"Like the loud purring of a Cat," was the answer, "but everybody knows +that the Cat is not purring anywhere around here." + +"She might be," said the Dappled Gray. "Where does the sound seem to +be?" + +"Above my head," said the Blind Horse; "and she certainly would not be +purring up there at this time. She would either be sound asleep, or off +hunting, or else out in the sunshine, where she loves to sit." + +The Dappled Gray felt that this was so, and he could not say a word. He +was very sorry for his friend. He thought how dreadful it would seem to +be both blind and deaf, and he choked on the oats he was swallowing. + +"Now don't worry," said the Blind Horse; "if I should be deaf, I could +still feel the soft touch of the breeze on my skin, and could taste my +good food, and rub noses with my friends. I wouldn't have spoken of it, +only I hoped that you could hear the noise also, and then I would know +that it was real." That was just like him. He was always patient and +sweet-tempered. In all the years he had been blind, he had never once +complained of it, and many times when the other Horses were about to say +or do some ill-natured thing, they thought of him and stopped. They were +ashamed to be impatient when they were so much better off than he. + +The Horses kept on eating their oats and resting from their hard work. +In the hay-loft above their heads, the Cat lay and purred and purred and +purred, never dreaming that her doing so made trouble for her friends +downstairs. + +She had been hunting all the night before, creeping softly through the +barn and hiding behind bags and boxes to watch for careless Mice and +young Rats. They were night-runners as well as she, and many things +happened in the barn and farmyard while the larger four-legged people +were sound asleep and the fowls were dreaming with their heads tucked +under their wings. Sometimes there were not so many Mice in the morning +as there had been the evening before, and when this was so, the Cat +would walk slowly through the barn and look for a comfortable +resting-place. When she found it, she would turn around three times, as +her great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother used to do to +trample a bed in the jungle, and then lie down for a long nap. She said +she always slept better when her stomach was full, and that was the +habit of all Cats. + +Sometimes she hunted in the fields, and many a morning at sunrise the +Cows had seen her walking toward the barn on the top of the fences. She +did not like to wet her feet on the dewy grass when it could be helped; +so, as soon as she was through hunting, she jumped on to the nearest +fence and went home in that way. + +Yes, last night she had been hunting, yet she was not thinking of it +now. Neither was she asleep. A Rat gnawed at the boards near her, and +she hardly turned her head. A Mouse ran across the floor in plain sight, +and she watched him without moving. What did she care about them now? +Her first Kittens lay on the hay beside her, and she would not leave +them on this first day of their lives unless she really had to. + +Of course she had seen little Kittens before--Kittens that belonged to +other Cats--but she was certain that none of them had looked at all like +her three charming babies. She could not decide which one of them was +the most beautiful. She was a Tortoise-shell Cat herself, and her fur +was spotted with white, black, and yellow. The babies had the same +colors on their soft coats, but not in just the same way as hers. + +At first she thought her largest daughter was the beauty of the family; +she was such a clear yellow, with not a hair of any other color on her. +"I always did like yellow Cats," said the young mother, "and they are +said to be very strong." + +Then she looked at her smaller daughter, who was white with tiny yellow +and black spots on neck and head. "Such a clean-looking baby," she +exclaimed, "and I am sure that when her eyes are open I shall find them +blue like my own." + +Just at this moment, the warm, dark little bunch of fur between her +forepaws moved, and she looked lovingly down upon him, her only son. "He +is certainly a very remarkable one," she said. "I never before saw such +a fine mixture of yellow and black, first a hair of one and then a hair +of the other, so that, unless one is very close to him it looks like a +rich brown. And then his feet!" She gave him a loving little poke with +one forefoot and turned him onto his back. This made him wave his tiny +paws in the air. The thick cushions of skin on each were as black as +black could be, and that is very uncommon. They are usually pink, like +those of his sisters. + +The little fellow lay there, wriggling very feebly, until his mother +gave him another poke that turned him over. Then he stretched and +crawled toward her, reaching his head first one way and then another. He +was so weak that he could not raise his body from the hay, but dragged +it along by taking short and uncertain steps with his four shaking legs. +It was only a short time since he found that he had legs, and he hadn't +any idea how to use them. He just moved whichever one seemed most in his +way. + +He didn't know where he was going, or what he was going for, but his +little stomach was empty and he was cold. Something, he didn't know +what, made him drag himself toward the big, warm creature near by. When +his black nose touched the fur of her body, he stopped pushing ahead and +began to feel from side to side. He did not know now for what he was +feeling, yet when he found something his tiny mouth closed around it and +a stream of sweet warm milk began to flow down his throat and into his +empty stomach. He did not know that it was milk. He did not know +anything except that it was good, and then he fell asleep. His sisters +did in the same way, and soon the happy mother could look down and see +her three babies in a row beside her, all sound asleep. Their pointed +little tails lay straight out behind them, and their soft ears were bent +forward close to their heads. + +"I wonder," said she, "if I was ever as small as they are, and if my +mother loved me as I love them." She stretched out one of her forepaws +and looked at it. It was so much larger, so very much larger, than the +paws of the Kittens. Such a soft and dainty paw as it was, and so +perfectly clean. She stretched it even more, and saw five long, curved, +sharp claws slide out of their sheaths or cases. She quickly slid them +back into their sheaths, for fear that in some way they might happen to +touch and hurt her babies. + +A Swallow flew down from his nest and passed over her head, then out of +the open window. "Kittens!" said he. "Kittens!" He flew over the fields +and saw two Horses standing by the fence while the farmer was oiling his +machine. "We have new neighbors in the barn," said he, "and the Cat is +purring louder than ever." + +"Who are the neighbors?" asked the Dappled Gray. + +"Kittens!" sang the Swallow. "Oh, tittle-ittle-ittle-ee." + +The Blind Horse drew a long breath. "Then I did hear her purr," said he; +"I am so glad." He never made a fuss about his troubles, for he was +brave and unselfish, yet the Dappled Gray knew without being told how +much lighter his heart was since he heard that the Cat had really been +purring above his head. + +The days passed by, and the Kittens grew finely. They got their eyes +open, first in narrow cracks, and then wider and wider, until they were +round and staring. The White Kitten had blue ones, the others brown. In +the daytime, they had long, narrow black spots in the middle of their +eyes, and as the bright light faded, these black spots spread out +sideways until they were quite round. When it was very dark, these spots +glowed like great Fireflies in the night. Then the Mice, who often +scampered through the loft when the Cat was away, would see three pairs +of eyes glowing in the hay, and they would squeak to each other: "See! +The Kittens are watching us." + +And the Kittens, who were not yet old enough to go hunting, and who were +afraid of everything that stirred, would crowd up against each other, +arch their little backs, raise their pointed tails, stand their fur on +end, and say, "Pst! Ha-a-ah!" + +Sometimes they did this when there was not a person in sight and what +frightened them was nothing but a wisp of hay, blown down by the wind. +Afterward, when anything moved, they sprang at it, held it down with +their sharp little claws, and chewed on it with their pointed white +teeth. When they were tired of this game, they played hide-and-seek, and +when they were tired of that they chased their tails. It was so nice +always to have playthings with them. Sometimes, too, they chased each +other's tails, and caught them and bit them hard, until the Kitten who +owned the tail cried, "Mieow!" and tumbled the biter over. + +They were allowed to play all through the loft except over the mangers. +Their mother was afraid that if they went there they would fall through +the holes which had been left in the floor. During the winter, the +farmer used to throw hay down through these to the hungry Horses. When +the Cat saw her children going toward these places, she called them back +and scolded them. Sometimes she struck them lightly on the ears with her +forepaw. "I don't like to," said she, "but they must learn to keep away. +It is not safe for them to go there." + +One morning when she was away, they were playing hide-and-seek, and the +White Kitten was hunting for a good hiding-place. "I'll hide near one of +these holes," she said, "and they won't dare come there to look. Then, +after they have hunted a long, long time, I'll get another place and +let them find me." She did hide there, and after a long, long time, when +her brother and sister were in the farther end of the loft, she tried to +run over to another dark corner. Instead of that, the hay began to slip +and slide under her and she went down, down, down, through a long dark +box, and hit with a hard thud at the bottom. + +She was so scared that she couldn't have told how many toes she had on +her forefeet. Of course, she had five on each, like all Kittens, and +four on each hind-foot, but if anybody had asked her then, she would +have been quite likely to say "three." + +She was sore, too, and when she felt a warm breath on her and opened her +eyes, she saw that some great creature had thrust his nose through a +hole in the side of the dark box. "It must be a Horse," she thought, +"and my mother says that they are kind to Cats. I think I'd better tell +him who I am. I don't want him to take me for a Pig, because he may not +like Pigs." You see, she forgot that Horses had been living in the great +world and could tell to what family a person belonged the very first +time they saw him. The only people she had ever seen were Swallows and +Mice. + +"If--if you please, sir," she said, "I am the White Kitten, and I just +tumbled down from the hay-loft, but I didn't mean to." + +"I am the Blind Horse," answered a strong and gentle voice outside, "and +I hope you are not hurt." + +"Not very much," answered the Kitten. "I just feel ache-y in my back and +scared all over." + +"Come out into the manger, White Kitten," said the Blind Horse, "and +perhaps you won't be so scared. I won't touch you, although I should +like to. You know I am blind, and so, unless I can touch people I +don't know how they look." + +[Illustration: I AM THE WHITE KITTEN.] + +The White Kitten crawled out and saw him, and then she wasn't afraid at +all. She was so sorry for him that she couldn't be afraid. She +remembered the time before her eyes opened when she had to feel for +everything she wanted. It was not so hard then, because she did not know +anything different, but now she could not bear to think of not being +able to see all that was around her. "If you will put your nose down in +the other end of the manger," she said, "I will rub up against it, and +you will know more how I look." + +The Blind Horse did this, and who can tell how happy it made him when +her warm and furry back rubbed up against his nose? "Thank you," he +whinnied; "you are very good." + +"Would you know I was a Kitten if I hadn't told you?" she said. + +"Indeed I would," he answered. + +"And you wouldn't have thought me a Pig?" she asked. + +"Never!" said he; "I wouldn't even have believed you if you had told me +that you were one." + +The Blind Horse and the White Kitten became firm friends, and when she +tried to wash off the dirt that got into her fur she sat in the very +middle of the manger and told him all about it. + +"My mother always has washed me," she said, "but my tongue is getting +big enough to wash with now. It is getting rougher, too, and that is a +good thing. My mother says that the reason why all the prickles on Cats' +tongues point backward is because then we can lick all the meat off from +bones with them. I'm 'most old enough to eat meat now. I can't wash the +top of my head though. You have to wet your paw and scrub it with that. +Can you wash the top of your head?" + +Then the Blind Horse told her how the men kept him clean; and while he +was telling this the Cat came into his stall, crying and looking for her +child. + +"Oh, mother," cried the White Kitten, "I tumbled down, but I didn't mean +to, and I'm sorry I didn't mind you, and the Blind Horse can't wash the +top of his head, and he knew that I wasn't a Pig." + +The Cat was so glad to find the White Kitten that she didn't scold at +all, but jumped into the manger and washed her clean, and then caught +the loose skin of the Kitten's neck between her teeth and carried her +through the stalls, across the barn-floor, and up the stairs to their +home. That made the Kitten much ashamed, for she thought that she was +old enough to go alone. + +For two whole days after this the White Kitten was so lame from her fall +that she could only lie still on the hay, and she could see that her +mother did not treat her as before. "I won't ever go near those places +again," she said. "I never will." + +"You promised me before that you would stay away," said her mother, "and +you broke your promise." She did not punish the White Kitten, but she +felt very sad and she could not help showing it. There was a dreadful +ache in her child's little Kitten-heart that was a great deal worse than +the lameness in her back or in her neck or in her legs. + +At last there came a day when the whole family walked downstairs, and +the Cat showed her three children to the farmyard people and spoke a few +words about each. "The yellow Kitten, my big daughter," said she, +"promises to be the best hunter: she is a wonderful jumper, and her +claws are already nearly as long as mine. My son, the brown one, has a +remarkable voice. And this White Kitten, my little daughter, is the most +obedient of all. She has never disobeyed me since the day she fell into +the manger, and I can trust her perfectly." + +Then the White Kitten knew that she was quite forgiven, and she was the +happiest person on the farm. + + + + +THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL + + +It was some time after the Dorking Hen had come off the nest with her +little brood, that the mother of the Shanghai Chickens began to have so +much trouble. + +She had twelve as fine Chickens as you could find anywhere: tall, +wide-awake youngsters with long and shapely legs and thick down and +feathers. She was very proud of them, as any Hen mother might well be, +and often said to the Shanghai Cock, "Did you ever see so fine a family? +Look at those twenty-four legs, all so long and straight, and not a +feather on one of them." His eyes would shine and he would stretch his +neck with pride, but all he ever said to her was, "They will do very +well if they only behave as well as they look." He did not believe in +praising children to their faces, and he thought their mother spoiled +them. + +Perhaps he was right, for the little Shanghais soon found out that they +were good-looking, and they wanted everybody in the poultry-yard to +notice their legs. It was very foolish, of course, to be proud of such +things, but when the other fowls said, "We should think you would be +cold without feathers on your legs," they answered, "Oh, we are +Shanghais, and our family never wear feathers there!" And that was true, +just as it is true that the Dorkings have extra toes, and that the Black +Spanish fowls have white ears. + +The Shanghai mother was now roaming the fields with her brood, and there +was rich picking in the wheat-stubble. All the fowls were out of the +yard now, and would not be shut up until cold weather. Early in the +morning they would start out in parties of from six to a dozen, with a +Cock at the head of each. He chose the way in which they should go; he +watched the sky for Hawks, and if he saw one, gave a warning cry that +made the Hens hurry to him. The Cocks are the lords of the poultry-yard +and say how things shall be there; but when you see them leading the way +in the fields,--ah, then you know why all the fowls obey them. + +The farmyard people still tell of the day when a Hawk swooped down on +one of the young Dorkings and would have carried him off if the Black +Spanish Cock had not jumped out, and pecked him and struck at him with +his spurs, and fought, until the Hawk was glad to hurry away. The Cocks +are not only brave--they are polite, too, and when they find food they +will not eat it until they have called the Hens to come and share with +them. + +You can imagine what good times the Chickens had in the stubble-fields. +They were so old now that their down was all covered with feathers, and +some of them wondered if they couldn't feel their spurs growing. Still, +that was all nonsense, as a Bantam told them, because spurs do not start +until the fowl is a year old. They had long been too large to cuddle +under their mother's feathers at night, and had taken their first +lessons in roosting before they went to the stubble-fields. They had +learned to break up their own food, too, and that was a great help to +their mother. Fowls, you know, have no teeth, and no matter how big a +mouthful one takes he has to swallow it whole. The only way they can +help themselves is to break the pieces apart with their feet or peck +them apart with their bills before eating them. + +The yellow grains of wheat that lay everywhere in the field were fine +food, and should have made the little Shanghais as fat as the Grouse who +sometimes stole out from the edge of the forest. Eleven of the brood +were quite plump, but one Chicken was still thin and lank. His mother +was very much worried about him and could not think what was the matter. +She spoke of it to the Black Spanish Hen one day, but the Black Spanish +Hen had never raised a brood, and said she really didn't know any more +about the care of Chickens than if she were a Dove. Then the anxious +mother went to the Shanghai Cock about it. He listened to all she said +and looked very knowing. + +"I don't think there is anything the matter," said he. "The Chick is +growing fast, that is all. I remember how it was with me before I got my +long tail-feathers. I was very thin, yet see what a fine-looking fellow +I am now." He was really a sight worth seeing as he towered above the +other fowls, flapping his strong wings in the sunshine and crowing. His +feathers were beautiful, and the bright red of his comb and wattles +showed that he was well. "Ah," thought the Shanghai Hen, "if my Chicken +could only become such a fine-looking Cock!" And she didn't worry any +more all day. + +That night she and her brood roosted in the old apple-tree in the corner +of the orchard nearest the poultry-yard. She flew up with the older +fowls and fluttered and lurched and squawked and pushed on first one +branch and then another, while the Chickens were walking up a slanting +board that the farmer had placed against one of the lower branches. It +always takes fowls a long time to settle themselves for the night. They +change places and push each other, and sometimes one sleepy Hen leans +over too far and falls to the ground, and then has to begin all over +again. + +At first the Chickens had feared that they would tumble off as soon as +they were asleep, but they soon learned that their feet and the feet of +all other birds are made in such a way that they hang on tightly even +during sleep. The weight of the bird's body above hooks the toes around +the branch, and there they stay until the bird wishes to unhook them. + +After a long time, all the fowls were asleep with their heads under +their wings. The Sheep, Pigs, and Cows were dreaming, and even the +Horses were quiet in their stalls. There was not a light to be seen in +the big white farmhouse, when the Dorking Cock crowed in his sleep. That +awakened him and all the other fowls as well. Then the other Cocks +crowed because he did and he crowed again because they did, and they +crowed again because he had crowed again, and the Chickens asked if it +were not almost morning, and their mothers told them not to talk but to +go to sleep at once and make morning come more quickly. + +All of this took quite a while, and the Shanghai mother could not sleep +again. She could see her brood quite plainly in the moonlight, and one +of them was not plump like the rest. She roosted there and worried about +him until suddenly (she could never tell how it happened) she seemed to +know just what was the matter. + +She flew down beside him and poked him under his wing. "Wake up," she +said. "I want to ask you something. Do you eat gravel?" + +"No," he answered sleepily, "I don't like gravel." + +"Didn't I bring you up to eat it?" she asked sternly. + +"Yes, but I don't like it, and now that I am old enough to roost in a +tree I don't mean to eat any more. So!" + +Just imagine a Chicken talking to his mother in that way! His mother, +who had laid the egg from which he was hatched; who had sat upon the +nest through all the weary days and nights while he was growing inside +his shell; who had cuddled him under her soft feathers; who had taught +him all he knew, and would have fought any hawk to save him! She had +begun to love him before he even knew that he was, and had lived for him +and his brother and sisters ever since. + +The mother said nothing more to him then. She spent the rest of the +night watching the stars and the moon and the first rosy flush of the +eastern sky which told that morning was near. Then she said to her +naughty Chicken, as he began to stir and cheep, "I shall never try to +make you eat gravel if you think you are too big to mind your mother. I +shall just tell you this, that you will never be strong unless you do. I +have not told you why, because you never asked, and I supposed you would +do as you ought without knowing the reason. You have no teeth, and you +cannot chew the grain you eat before it is swallowed. You have a strong +stomach, and if you eat gravel this stomach or gizzard will rub and +press the tiny stones against the grain until it is well broken up and +ready to make into fat and strength for your body." + +"But it doesn't taste good," he replied, "and I'd rather eat other +things. I don't believe it matters, and I won't eat it anyway." + +The Shanghai Hen flew down from the tree and clucked to her Chickens. +She would not waste time talking to him. Whenever he came near her that +day, he ate everything but gravel. He had his own way and yet he was not +happy. For some reason, nothing seemed to be any fun. Even lying under +the bushes on the sunshiny side was not comfortable, and when he +wallowed in the dust with his brothers and sisters he didn't enjoy that. + +Things went on this way for a good many days, and at last he saw that +his shadow was only a small black spot on the ground, while his +brothers and sisters had big fat shadows. He heard the Black Spanish +Cock call him a Bantam, and the Shanghai Cock say that he wouldn't live +until his spurs grew. One of the Dorking Chickens was talking to her +sister, and he heard her say, "Imagine him at the head of a flock!" Then +she laughed, a mean, cackling little laugh. + +That night, when the rest were asleep in the apple-tree, he walked +softly down the slanting board and ate gravel. The next morning he felt +better than he had in a long time, so when there was nobody around he +ate some more. He didn't want anyone else to know that he had found out +his mistake. Every morning he looked at his shadow, and it grew fatter +and fatter. Still he was not happy, and he knew it was because he had +not told his patient old mother. He wanted to tell her, too. One day he +heard her telling his brother to eat more gravel, and the brother said +he didn't like the taste of it. That made him speak at last. + +"Suppose you don't like it, you can eat it. Queer world it would be if +we didn't have to do unpleasant things. I've just made up my mind that +the people who won't do hard things, when they ought to, have the +hardest times in the end. Wish I'd minded my mother and eaten gravel +when she told me to, and I'm not going to let you be as foolish as I +was." + +Just then he heard somebody say of him, "What a fine-looking fellow he +is growing to be! I like him ever so much now." + +It was the Dorking Chicken who had laughed at him. He ran after a +Grasshopper, and she ran after the same Grasshopper, and they ran +against each other and the Grasshopper got away, so of course they had +to wander off together to find something to eat, and after that they +became great friends. + +The Shanghai Hen looked lovingly after him and raised one foot in the +air. "Now," she said, "I am perfectly happy." + + + + +THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY + + +It would be hard to tell which family is the most important among the +farmyard people. There is no one animal so wise as Collie, the farmer's +dog, and all the rest love him and mind him when he is sent to bring +them up from the pasture or to drive them to the water. Still, he does +not spend his days in barn or field and only comes with his master or +for a visit now and then. + +You may remember how the Garter Snake and the old Tree Frog were the +leaders in the meadow, and how in the forest all looked up to the Ground +Hog. These people were patient and old, and partly because they were old +and had had many years in which to think about life, they were very +wise. In the farmyard the Oxen were the most patient and the oldest, and +it was to them that all the animals went when they were in trouble. + +There were also the Horses, fine strong creatures, always helping +somebody else and working all day during most of the year. They drew the +reaper through the tall grain, and where in the morning had been a field +of waving golden wheat, at sunset were bundles or sheaves of gathered +grain, and the stubble was ready for the fowls. They were busy people; +and sometimes during the winter they liked to remind their neighbors how +much they had done. + +Then again, there were the Cows, who are the sisters of the Oxen. They +are large and there are many of them, yet they are not so wise, and that +is easily understood. All that they have to do on the farm is to give +milk for the butter-and cheese-making, and for the farmer's children to +drink. No farmer could get along without his Cows, but they do not work +like their brothers. They have so easy a time that they do not learn +much. You know, when people work, they have to think, and when people +think enough useful thoughts it makes them wise. That is one of the many +reasons why it is so foolish to be lazy. + +Truly, it would be hard to say which farmyard family is the most +important, but there is no trouble at all in telling which family think +themselves the most so. If you ask any Goose, she will tell you that one +of their flock is worth five Horses or a dozen Cows. Nobody else would +tell you this, and if you should speak of it to the span of Bays, or the +Dappled Gray, or even the youngest Colt in the stable, they would answer +you only with a hearty Horse laugh. The Cows would smile and reply, +"What a Goose she was to say that!" + +There has always been a flock of Geese on the farm, and their neighbors +are so used to their queer ways that they only smile when the Geese put +on airs, and it is a good-natured smile, too. They even feel rather +sorry for them when they lose their feathers, although the Nigh Ox once +said that if it were not for being plucked once in a while, the Geese +would really be too airy to live with. + +Perhaps the Nigh Ox was right in what he said, for certainly after they +have worn their feathers all winter, they hold their heads higher than +ever, and tell what they think and what they would do, and it is well +they should be reminded that they work for a living like all their +neighbors. The farmer's wife never plucks the Geese until warm weather +comes. Then she takes all the soft, short feathers that they have worn +through the winter, and this leaves them looking very ragged indeed. +There was a time, years ago, when Geese had to give up their long +tail-and wing-feathers to be whittled into pens, but these Geese didn't +know about that, and there was nobody in the farmyard old enough to +remember it and tell them, so they thought they had a pretty hard time +in even giving up their breast feathers. + +"Sssss!" the Gander used to say, "if the farmer's boys must have +feather pillows on which to lay their heads, why do they not grow their +own feathers?" + +"Humph!" said the Nigh Ox once; "If you must have oats to eat, why don't +you grow the oats?" But the Gander was already waddling away and +pretended not to hear him. + +It is in the winter that the Geese put on the most airs. Then, when the +Horses are being harnessed, they say to each other, "Dear me! Wouldn't +it be dreadful to work in that way for a living?" And sometimes, when +the team is hitched to a post by the farmhouse, they waddle past in a +single line with the Gander at the head, and say to the Horses: "Hear +you have to take a load of wood to town. It's too bad. Hope you won't +get very tired. We are going to the river for a nice cold swim. +Good-bye." Then they march off with their heads held high, and as soon +as their backs are turned, the Horses look at each other and laugh +softly. They know that there is nothing in the world better than good, +honest, hard work, no matter of what kind it is. + +Every winter the Geese forget about having to be plucked, and every +spring they are surprised to lose their feathers. They are plucked four +times before fall comes, and these four times come so near together that +even they can remember from one to another. You would think that then +they would not be so airy, but instead of saying, "Of course we work for +our living--why shouldn't we?" they say, "Why, yes, we do let the +farmer's wife have some of our feathers when she wants them. We suppose +you might call it work to grow feathers for her, still it does not take +much of our time, and it is quite different from drawing loads and +getting tired as the Horses and Oxen do. Growing feathers is genteel." + +They do not remember anything long, and so, when they have made a +mistake once, they are likely to make the same mistake over and over +again. Then, too, they cannot tell big things from little things, and +they are not happy unless they can have their own way all the time. And +you know that nobody can be sure of that. It all comes of their not +being willing to think hard, and sometimes it makes them a great deal of +trouble, as it did on the day when the Gray Goose would not go through +the farmyard gate. + +This was soon after the Gander and his wife had hatched their brood of +seven Goslings, and they were taking them at once to the brook. It was +a happy day for all the flock. The Gander and the Mother Goose were glad +because their children were safely out of the shell, and because they +would no longer have to sit with cramped legs on the nest. Ganders are +good fathers, for they cover the eggs half of the time, while the Mother +Goose is resting. The other Geese were not only proud of the Goslings, +but they were glad to have the Gander and the Mother Goose free to go +around with them again. They had missed them very much. + +The gate from the farmyard into the meadow stood wide open, and all the +Geese except the Gray one followed the Gander through. The Gray Goose +tried to go through a small hole in the fence very near the gate. She +squeezed her head into it and stretched her neck on the meadow side of +the fence, but she could not get any farther, although she pushed until +she was dizzy. + +[Illustration: THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH.] + +"Wait for me," she cried. "Wait for me-ee!" + +"Hurry, then," said the Gander. + +"I am hurrying," she cried, and she pushed with all her strength, but +since the hole in the fence was so small, she did not get any farther +than before. + +"Go through the gateway," said the Nigh Ox, who was grazing near by. + +"Sssss!" said the Gray Goose stiffly. "I would rather go through here. I +have chosen to go this way." + +"Oh!" said the Nigh Ox, "excuse me! Do go through there by all means!" + +"We are going on," called the Gander; "we would wait, but the Goslings +are in a hurry to take their first bath. Come as soon as you can." + +The Gray Goose tried harder than ever to go the way that she had chosen, +but it only made her so out of breath that she had to lie down and rest. +Once she thought she heard somebody laugh, yet when she looked at the +Nigh Ox, who was the only person around, he was lying with closed eyes +and solemnly chewing his cud, so she decided that she must have been +mistaken. + +Down by the brook the rest of the flock were cackling merrily, and she +could see the seven Goslings swimming with the Geese and the Gander. +"Oh," she cried, "how I wish I were with them! I don't see what is the +matter with this hole in the fence. The farmer ought to make it bigger." + +She pushed and scolded and fussed until her neck was sore and she was +too tired to swim if she had a chance, so she sat down to rest. She did +remember what the Nigh Ox had said; still, if she couldn't go as she had +planned, she wouldn't go at all. She walked into the barn to find a cool +and shady place, lowering her head as she stepped over the threshold of +the high front door. + +"What did you do that for?" twittered a Swallow. + +"Because I don't want to hit my head on the top of the doorway;" she +replied. "I always do so. All of our flock do so." + +"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee," laughed the Swallow, as she darted away and +alighted on the fence by the Nigh Ox. "Why isn't the Gray Goose in +swimming with the rest?" asked she. + +"Because she can't push her fat body through that hole in the fence," +said the Nigh Ox, switching his tail toward it as he spoke. + +"Why doesn't she go through the gateway, then?" asked the Swallow. + +"Because she says she would rather go the other way, and that if she +can't go that way, she won't go at all." + +"And she is missing all that fun?" said the Swallow. + +"All of it," answered the Nigh Ox, "but then, you know, she is such a +Goose!" + + + + +WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY + + +It was during the hottest summer weather that the wind-storm came. The +farmyard people always spoke of it as "the" wind-storm, because not even +the Blind Horse, who had lived on the farm longer than any of his +neighbors, could remember anything like it. "I recall one time," he +said, "when a sweet-apple tree was blown down in the fall. The Hogs +found it and ate all the fruit before the farmer knew that it was down. +You should have heard them grunt over it. They were afraid the farmer +would drive them away before they had eaten it all. Eh, well! They ate +all they wanted, but one of the Pigs told me afterward that it made them +sick, and that he never wanted to see another sweet apple as long as he +lived. That was a hard storm, but not like this, not like this." + +It had come in the night when the farmyard people were asleep, and there +was much scampering to shelter. The fowls, who were roosting in the old +apple-tree, did not have time to oil their feathers and make them +water-proof. They just flew off their perches as fast as they could and +ran for the open door of the Hen-house. When they were once inside, they +ruffled up their feathers and shook themselves to get rid of the +rain-drops. Fowls do not like wet weather, and it vexes them very much +to be in the rain. Their neighbors know this so well that it has become +their custom to say of an angry person that he is "as mad as a wet Hen." + +The Cows were in their part of the barn with their necks between the +stanchions, so there was nothing for them to do but to keep still and +think of those who were out of doors. The Horses were in their +comfortable stalls. They had been working hard all day and the farmer +had gotten a good supper of oats ready for them in their mangers, so +that they could eat quickly and go to sleep, instead of staying awake +and walking around to get their own suppers in the pasture. + +Out in the meadow the Sheep huddled close together under a low-branching +tree, and stood still until the storm passed. They had been so warm that +the cool rain made them comfortable, but the wind pushed them and swayed +the branches of the trees. The loud thunder made the Lambs jump. They +liked the lightning and made a game out of it, each one telling what he +had seen by the last flash. The clouds, too, were beautiful, and flew +across the sky like great dark birds with downy breasts, dropping now +and then shining worms from their beaks. + +At last the air became cool and clear, and the clouds flew far away +toward the east. Next, the stars peeped out, first one, then two, then +six, then twenty, and then so many that you could not have counted +them,--more than the leaves on a maple-tree, more than the grass-blades +of the meadow. The Sheep ran around a little to shake off the rain-drops +and warm themselves, then they huddled down again to sleep. + +When the sun arose in the eastern sky, his warm beams fell upon the +Sheep and awakened them. "How cool and beautiful a day," they said. +"What a morning for a run!" + +"I can beat you to the tall grass!" called one little Lamb to the rest, +and they all scampered around the field, throwing up their heels for +joy. They had been away from their mothers for awhile, and had learned +to eat grass instead of milk. They were quite proud of the way in which +they broke it off, with quick upward jerks of their heads, and their +teeth were growing finely. They did not expect any upper front teeth, +for in place of them the Sheep have only a hard pad of flesh. + +Soon they came running back to the flock. "There is a Dog over there," +they cried, "a strange Dog. He doesn't look like Collie. He is coming +this way, and we are afraid." + +Their uncle, the Bell-Wether, looked over to where the strange Dog was, +then turned quickly and began to run. The bell around his neck clinked +at every step. When the other Sheep heard the bell they raised their +heads and ran after him, and the Lambs ran after them. The strange Dog +did not follow or even bark at them, yet on they went, shaking the +shining rain-drops from the grass as they trod upon it. Not one of them +was thinking for himself what he really ought to do. The Bell-Wether +thought, "I feel like running away from the Dog, and so I will run." + +The other Sheep said to themselves, "The Bell-Wether is running and so +we will run." + +And the Lambs said, "If they are all running we will run." + +Along the fence they went, the bell clinking, their hoofs pattering, and +not one of them thinking for himself, until they reached a place where +the fence was blown over. It was not blown 'way down, but leaned so that +it could be jumped. If a single one of the flock, even the youngest +Lamb, had said, "Don't jump!" they would have stayed in the pasture; but +nobody said it. The Bell-Wether felt like jumping over, so he jumped. +Then the Sheep did as the Bell-Wether had done, and the Lambs did as the +Sheep had done. + +Now they were in the road and the Bell-Wether turned away from the +farmhouse and ran on, with the Sheep and the Lambs following. Even now, +if anybody had said, "Stop!" they would have stopped, for they knew that +they were doing wrong; but nobody said it. + +After a while a heavy wagon came rumbling down the road behind them, and +the Bell-Wether jumped over a ditch and ran into a hilly field with +woodland beyond. Because he went the Sheep did, and because the Sheep +went the Lambs did, and nobody said "Stop!" You see, by this time they +were very badly frightened, and no wonder. When they saw the strange Dog +they were a little scared, for they thought he might chase them. If they +had made themselves stay there and act brave they would soon have felt +brave. Even if the Dog had been a cruel one, they could have kept him +from hurting them, for Sheep have been given very strong, hard foreheads +with which to strike, and the Bell-Wether had also long, curled horns +with three ridges on the side of each. But it is with Sheep as it is +with other people,--if they let themselves be frightened they grow more +and more fearful, even when there is no real danger and now all of their +trouble came from their not stopping to think what they ought to do. + +They hurried up to the highest ground in the field, and when they were +there and could go no farther, they stopped and looked at each other. +One Lamb said to his mother, "Why did we come here? It isn't nearly so +nice as our own meadow." + +"Why, I came because the Bell-Wether did," she answered. Then she turned +to the Bell-Wether and said, "Why did you bring us here?" + +"I didn't bring you here," he replied. "I felt like coming, and I came. +I didn't make you follow." + +"N-no," answered the Sheep; "but you might have known that if you came +the Sheep would come." + +"Well," said the Bell-Wether, "you might have known that if you Sheep +came the Lambs would, so you'd better not say anything." + +"Baa!" cried the Lambs. "We are hot and thirsty and there isn't any +water here to drink. We want to go back." + +Everybody was out of patience with somebody else, and nobody was +comfortable. They did not dare try to go home again, for fear they would +have more trouble, so they huddled together on the top of the hill and +were very miserable and unhappy. They hadn't any good reason for coming, +and they could not even have told why they ran to the hilltop instead of +staying in the pleasant hollow below. + +There was a reason for their running up, however, although +they didn't know it. It was because their +great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather and-grandmother were +wild Sheep in the mountains, and when frightened ran up among the rocks +where there was nobody to hurt them. They got into the habit of running +up-hill when scared, and their children did the same, and their +children's children did the same, and now even the farmyard Sheep do so, +although they long ago forgot the reason why. + +"Bow-wow-wow!" rang out on the still morning air. + +"There's Collie!" cried the Lambs joyfully. "He's coming to take us +home. Let's bleat to help him find us more quickly." All the Lambs said, +"Baa! Baaa!" in their high, soft voices, and their mothers said "Baa! +Baaa!" more loudly; and the Bell-Wether added his "Baa! Baaa!" which was +so deep and strong that it sounded like a little, very little, clap of +thunder. + +Collie came frisking along with his tail waving and his eyes gleaming. +He started the flock home, and scolded them and made fun of them all the +way, but they were now so happy that they didn't care what he said. When +they were safely in the home meadow again and the farmer had mended the +fence, Collie left them. As he turned to go, he called back one last +piece of advice. + +"I'm a Shepherd Dog," he said, "and it's my work to take care of Sheep +when they can't take care of themselves, but I'd just like to be a +Bell-Wether for a little while. You wouldn't catch me doing every +foolish thing I felt like doing and getting all the flock into trouble +by following me! Nobody can do anything without somebody else doing it +too, and I wouldn't lead people into trouble and then say I didn't +think. Bow-wow-wow-wow!" + +[Illustration: COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER.] + +The Bell-Wether grumbled to himself, "Well, the rest needn't tag along +unless they want to. Pity if I can't jump a fence without everybody +following." But down in his heart he felt mean, for he knew that one who +leads should do right things. + + + + +THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP + + +The Mice were having a great frolic in the corn-crib. The farmer's man +had carelessly left a board leaning up against it in such a way that +they could walk right up and through one of the big cracks in the side. +It was the first time that some of them had ever been here. When the +farmer built the crib, he had put a tin pan, open side down, on top of +each of the wooden posts, and had then nailed the floor beams of the +crib through these pans. That had kept the hungry Mice from getting into +the corn. + +This was a great day for them, and their gnawing-teeth would certainly +be worn down enough without giving them any extra wear. That, you know, +is one thing about which all Rats and Mice have to be very careful, for +their front teeth are growing all the time, and they have to gnaw hard +things every day to keep them from becoming too long. + +There was only one thing that ever really troubled these Mice, and that +was the Cat. They did not feel afraid of Hawks and Owls because they +lived indoors. Weasels did not often come up to the barn, and men made +so much noise when they were around that any wide-awake Mouse could +easily keep out of their way. With the Cat it was different. She was +always prowling around in the night-time, just when they had their +finest parties; and many a young Mouse had been scared away from a +midnight supper by seeing her eyes glowing like balls of fire in the +darkness. By daylight it was not so bad, for they could see her coming, +and besides, she slept much of the time then. + +They were talking about her when in the corn-crib. "Have any of you seen +the Cat to-day?" asked the Oldest Mouse. + +Nobody answered. Then one young fellow, who was always worrying, said: +"Supposing she should come out of the barn now! Supposing she should +come right toward this corn-crib! Supposing she should stand right under +the floor! Supposing she should catch us as we jumped down! +Supposing----" + +But here the other young Mice all squeaked to him to stop, and one of +them declared that it made her fur stand on end to think of it. The +Oldest Mouse spoke quite sharply. "Supposing," said he to the first +young Mouse, "you should eat more and talk less. There are enough +pleasant things to speak about without scaring all your friends in this +way." + +The young Mouse who said that her fur stood on end couldn't eat anything +more, she was so frightened. "What could we do," she said, "if the Cat +should come?" + +"Stay right where we are," answered her mother. "She couldn't reach us +with the door closed. Now go on with your eating and don't be foolish." + +A Rat ran up the board. "Good-morning," said he. "Have you heard the +news?" + +"No, no!" cried the Mice, hurrying to that side of the corn-crib, and +peeping through the crack. + +"The Yellow Kitten has been hunting with her mother, and they say that +her brother is going to-night." + +"Well," said a mother Mouse, "I knew we would have to expect it, but I +did hope they would wait a while. Now, children," she added, "do be +careful! I know that when you are looking for food you have to go into +dangerous places, but don't stop there to talk or to clean your fur. +Find safe corners for that, or I shall worry about you all the time." + +"We will," squeaked all the little Mice together. "We will be very, very +careful." + +"Thank you for the news," said the Oldest Mouse to the Rat. "We will try +to send you word of new dangers when we hear of them." + +The Rat, who was a fine young fellow, ran down the board and away. They +could not ask him in to lunch, because he was too large and stout to +squeeze through the cracks, but he understood how it was, and knew that +he could find food elsewhere. Now he ran to the Pig-pen to snatch a +share of the breakfast which the farmer had just left there. He often +did this as soon as the farmer went away, and the Pigs never troubled +him. Perhaps that was because they knew that if they drove him away when +he came alone, he would bring all his sisters and his cousins and his +aunts, and his brothers and his uncles too, the next time, and would +eat every bit of food they had. + +After he had taken a hearty breakfast, he ran under the edge of the barn +to clean himself. He was always very particular about this. His mother +had taught him when very small that he must keep his fur well brushed +and his face washed, and he did it just as a Cat would, by wetting his +paws and scrubbing his face and the top of his head. He brushed his fur +coat with his paws also. + +While he was here, one of his cousins came from the barn above. She ran +down the inside of the wall, head foremost, and her hind feet were +turned around until they pointed backward. That let her hold on with her +long, sharp claws, quite as a Squirrel does, and kept her from tumbling. +She was much out of breath when she reached the ground, but it was not +from running. + +"What do you think that farmer has done now?" she cried. "It was bad +enough for him to nail tin over the holes we gnawed into his grain-bins, +but this is worse still. It needn't make us so much trouble, but it +hurts my feelings." + +"What is it?" asked her cousin. + +"A trap!" said she. "A horrible, shining trap. The Rat from the other +farm told me about it. It lies open and flat on the floor of a +grain-bin,--the very one you and I gnawed into last night,--and there is +a lovely piece of cheese in the middle of it. The Rat who told me about +it says that as soon as one touches the cheese, the trap springs shut on +him." + +"Bah!" exclaimed the young Rat who had just eaten breakfast in the +Pig-pen. "Let it stay there! We don't have to touch it, although I do +mean to look at it some time. I believe in knowing about things." + +"I wish you wouldn't look at it," said his cousin, who was very fond of +him. + +"The Rat from the other farm says it is very dangerous to even look at +traps, especially if your stomach is empty." + +"Then the Rat from the other farm might better keep away," said this +young fellow, as he put one paw up to see that his whiskers were all +right. "I don't think very much of him anyway. He thinks he knows +everything because he has travelled. I wish you would have nothing to do +with him. I dare say you were in the grain-bin with him when you saw the +trap." + +"Yes," said she, "I was." + +"Well," said he, "you both got away safely, and I shall too. I may not +be very clever, but I think I do know enough to keep out of a trap." +Then he turned into his hole and went to sleep. He had been running +around all night, and was very tired. He was cross, too. This was the +second time that his cousin had told him what the Rat from the other +farm had said, and he thought she liked him altogether too well. + +When he awakened, it was night again and he was aroused by the stamping +of the Dappled Gray on the floor above his head. For a minute he could +hardly think where he was. Then it all came to him. He was in his own +cozy little hole under the barn, and it was night. He remembered +something about the Yellow Kitten. What was it? Oh yes, she had begun +hunting. Well, he was not afraid of her yet. But there was something +else--the trap! He wondered if his cousin were in that bin again. As +like as not her friend, the Rat from the other farm, was showing her the +trap now. He would go up there himself, and at once, too. + +He ran up the wall, through an opening, and across the barn floor to the +grain-bin. It was a moonlight night and the barn was not very dark. The +cover of the bin was raised. Perhaps the farmer's man had forgotten to +close it. Perhaps there was so little grain left in it that the man +didn't care to. At any rate, he could now see the trap quite plainly. +There was nobody else in the bin, and he went close to it. + +"I would not touch it for anything," said he, as he entered the bin, +"but it will not hurt me to look at it." + +When he went nearer, he was very careful to see that his tail did not +even brush against the chain which held the trap down. "So that is the +terrible, dangerous trap?" said he. "It doesn't look particularly +dreadful. That is fine-smelling cheese though." He sniffed two or three +times. "I have tasted cheese only once in my whole life," said he, "and +I am almost starved now. I wouldn't mind a nibble at that." He looked at +it and thought about it until it seemed to him he could not go away and +leave that cheese there. + +Then he thought, "If I am very careful to step over these shining steel +things and rest my feet only on the floor, it cannot spring the trap. +Then I will snatch the cheese and jump.... I am pretty sure I can do +it.... Why, yes, I know I can." So the Rat who had come just to look at +the trap, began to lift first one foot and then another over the shining +curved bars, and got all ready to catch up the cheese and run. + +"Now!" he cried. "One, two, three!" He did snatch it and jump, but the +trap jumped, too, in its own trappy way, and the Rat who got the cheese +left the three tip rings of his tail to pay for it. "Ouch!" he cried. +"My tail! My tail! My beautiful, long, bony tail, all covered with +scales and short hair!" He did not care at all for the cheese now. He +did not want to see it, for he would rather have had the point on his +tail again than to eat a whole binful of cheese. + +"How it will look!" said he. "So stumpy and blunt. And it has been so +very useful always. I could wind it around a stick to hold myself up +when my paws were full, and many a time I have rolled eggs across the +floor by curling it around them." Then he heard Rat voices and scampered +out and down to his own hole. + +His cousin and the Rat from the other farm came into the bin. "Don't +look at the trap," he was saying, "but just eat your grain from the +farther corner." + +"I won't," she answered, and she half closed her eyes to keep from +seeing it. He was beside her and they stumbled over the cheese, which +now lay on the floor away from the trap. "How does this happen?" said +he. "We will eat it first and then find out." By this advice he showed +that he was a Rat of excellent sense. + +When they had eaten it, they began to look toward the trap. As there was +no longer any cheese in it to tempt them, they felt perfectly safe in +doing so. They found that it had been sprung, and there lay the last +three rings of some Rat's tail. + +"How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "I hope that was not lost by any of our +friends." + +"Hum-hum!" said the Rat from the other farm. "Now, whom have I seen +wearing that? I have certainly seen that tail before--it was your +cousin!" + +"Poor fellow!" said she. "I must go to see him." + +"Oh, don't go now," cried the Rat from the other farm. "I think he might +want to be alone for a while. Besides," he added coaxingly, "you haven't +tasted of the grain yet, and it is very good." + +"W-well," answered she, "perhaps my cousin would just as soon not have +me come now." So she waited, and the Rat from the other farm told her +wonderful stories of his travels, and they had a very fine supper. + +When her cousin began to run around again, he was a much sadder and +wiser Rat. Sometimes the younger Rats would ask him how he lost the tip +of his tail. "By not turning it toward a tempting danger," he would +answer, very solemnly. Then, after he had told them the story, he always +added, "The time to turn your tail toward a tempting danger is the +minute you see it, for if you wait and look and long for something you +ought not to take, there is sure to be trouble, and many a Rat has lost +more than the tip of his tail in just that way." + + + + +THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER + + +There was only one Gobbler on the farm, and he was so used to having his +own way that he never tried to make the best of it when he couldn't, and +sometimes he became exceedingly cross. He was bigger than the Cocks, the +Hens, the Geese, and the Ducks, so when they were in his way and he +gobbled a gruff "Move along," they murmured "Oh, certainly," and +scampered away as fast as their legs would carry them. The Peacock was +larger than the Turkey Gobbler, it is true, but as long as he could sit +on a fence in the sunshine and have somebody admiring his train, he did +not care anything about the Gobbler, and they did not get in each +other's way. + +There were seven Hen Turkeys, timid, sweet-tempered people, who were +fond of walking. They had never been known to answer back when the +Gobbler scolded them, although at times he was very unreasonable. This +was polite of them, but it made the Gobbler more careless than ever of +the way in which he spoke. The Black Spanish Hen said it made her +wattles tingle to hear him find fault with them. She wouldn't have stood +it--no, indeed! + +When the Black Spanish Cock heard her say so, he shook his feathers and +smiled a queer little smile, and said, "I certainly know that she would +not." The other fowls looked at each other, and the Shanghai Cock winked +his round little eyes at the Dorking Hen, and she had to oil a feather +on the under side of her wing just then, so, of course, nobody saw her +laugh--if she did laugh. + +The Black Spanish fowls were kind-hearted and honest, and had fine +manners, but they would not stand it to be spoken to hastily by any one +who was not very much bigger than they, and it was said that the Cock +had once--only once--but then, perhaps it would be just as well not to +tell what the other fowls had heard about their family quarrel, for, +after all, it did not come very straight, the Pigs having told the +Geese, and the Geese telling the Ducks, and the Ducks just mentioning it +to the Peacock, and the Peacock having spoken of it to the Dorking Hen. + +It was now late in the fall, and all the Turkeys went walking together +again. One would think that, after being separated from the rest all +summer and part of the spring, the Gobbler would have been very polite +when he joined them, but no; he was more quick-tempered than ever. He +was not fond of young Turkeys, and their constant chattering annoyed +him. "Can't you find some way to keep those children quiet?" he would +say, and made such a fuss that the Hen Turkeys called them aside and +tried to amuse them for a while. + +Hen Turkeys are most loving mothers, and in the early spring first one +and then another had stolen away to lay and hatch her eggs. If a Hen +Turkey wanted a chance to lay an egg at this season, she watched the +Gobbler and left the flock when his back was turned. As she came near +her nest, she would stop and look around to make sure he did not see +where it was. She knew that the Gobbler did not like to have her raise +young Turkeys, and that if he could find the nest, he would break every +egg in it. After she had laid her egg, she would wander back in a +careless way, quite as though she had only been to the watering-trough +for a drink. + +Once the Hen Turkeys had talked about this when the Gobbler could not +hear. "It doesn't seem right not to tell him," the youngest had said. + +"Well, my dear," said another, "it is the only way we can do, if we want +to save our eggs and raise our children. Gobblers always act in that +way." + +"Are you sure?" said the young Hen Turkey. + +"Sure!" was the answer. "You wouldn't be here to-day if your mother +hadn't done as we do." + +So the youngest Hen Turkey had changed her mind and hidden her eggs like +the rest, for, in spite of aching legs and all that is hard in hatching +eggs, Hen Turkeys always want to raise broods in the springtime. When +one of them had laid as many eggs as she wanted to hatch, she began +sitting on them, and would not walk with the flock at all. One by one +the Hen Turkeys had done this until the Gobbler was left quite alone. He +did not like it at all, and wanted more than ever to find and break the +eggs. When the Turkey Chicks were hatched, their mothers kept them out +of the Gobbler's way, because, you know, he did not like small children +and it was better that they should not meet. + +The Hen Turkeys were very sorry for him, and often wished that he might +watch with them the growth of their piping darlings, to see the tiny +feathers push their way through the down and broaden and lengthen until +there was no down to be seen--only feathers. It was too bad; yet that +was the way in all Turkey families, and the Gobblers couldn't help +disliking the children any more than the Hen Turkeys could help wanting +to sit in the springtime. + +By another year the Gobbler would love the young Turkeys dearly. Even +now he did not try to strike them, as he might have done a while before. +They were afraid of him, yet down in their hearts the brothers all +thought that when they were grown up they wanted to be just like him +and strut around with their wings trailing, their tails spread, their +necks drawn back, and their feathers ruffled. Then, they thought, when +other people came near them, they would puff and gobble and cry, "Get +out of my way!" They tried it once in a while to see how it would seem, +but they were still slender and their voices were not yet deep enough. +The sisters laughed at them when they did this, and that made them feel +very uncomfortable. The long, limp red wattles that grew out between +their eyes became redder and redder as they swung to and fro under their +short, thick bills. + +"Just wait," said one young fellow to another. "Just you wait until I am +really grown up and strut before your sister next spring. I don't think +she will laugh at me then." And he comforted himself by eating fully +twice as much grain as he should have done. + +The farmer's little girl came into the farmyard, and all the fowls +stopped eating to look at her. She was so young that she had never +before been out there alone. Her father had brought her in his arms, and +she had laughed with delight and clapped her little hands when the +farmyard people passed by her. Now she had slipped out of the house and +stood in the sunshine smiling at every one. She came without a cap, and +the wind blew her soft yellow curls around her rosy face. It fluttered +her red dress, too, and the Gobbler saw it and became exceedingly angry. + +"Red-red-red!" he cried. "Why in the world did she wear red? I hate it!" +He stalked toward her in his most disagreeable way, and you could tell +by the stiff brushing of his wing-tips on the ground that he was very +angry. "Get away from here!" he cried. "This is my home and little girls +can't wear red dresses when they visit me. Pffff! Get away!" + +The little girl turned to run as the big Gobbler came puffing toward +her. In her fright she stumbled and fell, and he hurried forward to +strike her. The Black Spanish Cock began to ruffle his neck feathers and +stretch his head forward. He did not mean to have their visitor treated +so. He ran between the Gobbler's feet and they tumbled over together. +The little girl picked herself up and hurried into the house. + +If the Gobbler was angry before, he was much more so after his fall. +"What do you mean, sir," he said, "by tripping me?" + +"And what do you mean," said the Black Spanish Cock, "by knocking me +over?" + +"Pffff! You were under my feet." + +"Erruuuu! You were over my head." + +Now nobody had dared to disagree with the Gobbler in so long that he did +not know what to make of it, and when the Shanghai Cock strolled over +to help his friend, the Gobbler was fairly sputtering with rage. "Ah, +Gobbler," said the Shanghai, "wonder what has become of the little girl? +It was nice of her to come out here, and I wish she had stayed longer." + +[Illustration: THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD HER.] + +"I told her to get away," was the answer. "She had on a red dress. I +chased her. I always have chased anybody who wore red, and I always +shall. It's my way." + +"Is it your way, too, to be cross whenever you feel like it?" + +"Of course. I wouldn't be cross when I didn't feel like it," answered +the Gobbler. + +"Some of us are not cross when we do feel like it," said the Dorking +Cock. "I am always happier for keeping my temper when I can." + +"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. "That is not my way. I say right out what I +think, and then I am all right again and forget all about it." + +"Humph!" said the Bantam Hen. "I wonder if the other people forget as +soon? It would do him more good to remember it and feel sorry. He needs +a lesson." Then she stalked up to him, looking as brave as you please, +although she was really quite frightened. "I never noticed it before," +she cackled, "but the tuft of hairy feathers on your breast is +dreadfully ragged. And what very ugly looking feet you have! If I were +going to have any webs between my toes I should want good big ones like +those of the Ducks and Geese, not snippy little halfway webs like yours. +I hope you don't mind my speaking of it. I always say what I think. It's +just my way, and I never remember it afterward." She gave a graceful +flutter and a queer little squawk, and was off before the Gobbler got +over his surprise. + +Fowls do enjoy a joke, and now the Dorking Cock took his turn. "I've +always wanted to know how you spread your tail in that fashion. It's a +good time to see." He walked up beside the Gobbler and pecked and pulled +until three feathers lay on the ground. "Ah," said the Dorking Cock, "I +see I loosened some of your tail feathers. I hope you don't mind. It is +just my way, when I want to know about anything, to find out as soon as +I can." + +And so one fowl after another teased and troubled the Gobbler, and +explained afterward that "it was just their way." Then they laughed at +him and ran off. + +It would be nice if one could say that the Gobbler never again lost his +temper, but he did, a great many times, for he should have begun to +master it when he was a Chick. But one can tell truly that he never +again excused his crossness by saying that "it was only his way." The +youngest Duckling in the poultry-yard had always known that this was no +excuse at all, and that if people have disagreeable habits which make +others unhappy, it is something of which they should be much ashamed. + + + + +THE BRAGGING PEACOCK + + +The farmyard people will never forget the coming of the Peacock; or +rather they will never forget the first day that he spent with them. He +came in the evening after all the fowls had gone to roost, and their +four-legged friends were dozing comfortably in meadow and pasture +corners, so nobody saw him until the next morning. + +You can imagine how surprised they were when a beautiful great fowl of +greenish-blue strutted across the yard, holding his head well in the air +and dragging his splendid train behind him. The fowls were just starting +out for their daily walks, and they stopped and held one foot in the +air, and stared and stared and stared. They did not mean to be rude, +but they were so very much surprised that they did not think what they +were doing. Most of them thought they were asleep and dreaming, and the +dream was such a beautiful one that they did not want to move and break +it off. They had never seen a Peacock and did not even know that there +was such a fowl. + +A Lamb by the pasture fence called to his mother. "Ba-baa!" cried he. +"One of the cloud-birds is walking in the farmyard." He was thinking of +the night of the storm, when all the Sheep and Lambs huddled together in +the meadow and watched the clouds, and thought that they were birds and +dropped shining worms from their beaks. + +Then the Peacock, who understood the Sheep language perfectly, said, +"Paon! I am no cloud-bird. I am a Peacock." He said this in a very +haughty way, as though to be a Peacock were the grandest thing in the +world, far better than having one's home in the sky and bringing showers +to refresh the thirsty earth-people. + +The Turkey Gobbler never could stand it to have others speak in that way +when he was around, so he thought he would show the newcomer how +important he was. He drew up his neck and puffed out his chest; he +pulled his skin muscles by thinking about them, and that made his +feathers stand on end; next he dropped his wings until their tips +touched the ground; then he slowly spread his tail. "Pffff!" said he. "I +am no Peacock. I am a Turkey Gobbler." + +The Hen Turkeys looked at each other with much pride. They were a little +afraid of him themselves, but they liked to have him show the newcomer +that Turkeys are important people. Their children looked at each other +and murmured, "Isn't the Gobbler fine though? Guess the Peacock will +wish now that he hadn't put on airs." + +But the Peacock did not seem to feel at all sorry. He stood and looked +at them all without saying a word, and they all wondered what he was +thinking. Then a Duckling who stood near him exclaimed, "Look at his +train! Oh, look at his train!" Everybody looked and saw all those +beautiful long feathers rising into the air. Up and up they went, and +spreading as they rose, until there was a wonderful great circle of them +back of his body and reaching far above his head. The Gobbler's spread +tail looked as small beside this as a Dove's egg would beside that of a +Goose. + +"Paon!" said the Peacock. "I am no Turkey Gobbler. I am a Peacock." + +"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. Then he turned to the Hen Turkeys. "My +dears," he said, "I think it is time that we walked along. The children +should not be allowed to see and speak with any stray fowl that comes +along. We cannot be too particular about that." Then he stalked off, +with the meek Hen Turkeys following and the children lagging behind. +They did so want to stay and see the Peacock, and they thought the +Ducklings and Goslings were much luckier than they. + +The Geese were delighted with the newcomer, and hoped he would be quite +friendly with them. They wished he were a swimmer, but of course they +could tell with one look that he was not. He did not have the trim, +boat-shaped body that swimmers have, and then, his feet were not webbed. +The Gander noticed that they were remarkably homely feet. He thought he +would remember this and speak of it to the Geese some time when they +were praising the Peacock's train. + +The Drake was the first to speak politely to the Peacock. "We are glad +to meet you, sir," he said. "Will you be with us long?" + +"Thank you," answered the Peacock. "I have come to stay." + +"We hope you will like it here. I'm sorry to see you do not swim. We +should be very glad of your company if you did. You will excuse us if we +go on to the brook. We are late already." He and all of his family +waddled away to the water. "A fine-looking fellow," said he heartily. +"Even my cousins, the Mallard Ducks, have not such a beautiful sheen on +their neck feathers." The Drake was a kind, warm-hearted fellow, and it +never troubled him to know that other people were handsomer than he. + +The Geese were eager to reach the water, too, but they could not leave +without asking one question. First they told the Gander to ask it, but +he replied that if they wanted to know, they should ask it for +themselves. Then they hung back and said to each other, "You ask him. I +can't." At last the Gray Goose stepped forward, saying, "Excuse us, +sir. You said that you were to stay with us, and we wish to know if you +work for your living." + +"I work!" cried he. "Paon! Never. The farmer invited me here to be +beautiful, that is all." + +"We are so glad," cackled the Geese, and the Gander joined with them. +"So many of the people here work. They are very good, but not at all +genteel, you understand." + +"And don't you do anything?" asked the Peacock. "I thought Geese grew +feathers for beds and pillows. It seems to me you look rather ragged. +Haven't you been plucked?" + +This was very embarrassing to the Geese. "Why, yes," they said, "we do +let the farmer's wife have some feathers once in a while, when the +weather is warm, but that is very different from really working, you +know." + +"Perhaps," said the Peacock. "If they want any of my feathers, they can +wait until I moult. Then you will see how much they think of me, for +whenever they find one of my train feathers (not tail, if you please; +every bird has a tail, but I have a train) they carry it carefully into +the house to be made into a duster for the parlor. I never give away any +but my cast-off plumage. I am so very, very beautiful that I do not have +to work." + +This impressed the Geese very much. "We are glad to know you. Quite +honored, we assure you!" + +The Peacock bowed his crested head, and they bowed their uncrested and +very silly ones, and then they went to the river. The Peacock thought +them most agreeable, because they admired him, and they thought him the +best sort of acquaintance, because he didn't work. It was all very +foolish, but there are always foolish people in the world, you know, and +it is much better to be amused by it and a little sorry for them, than +for us to lose our tempers and become cross about it. That was the way +the Shanghais, Black Spanish, Dorking, and Bantam fowls felt. They were +polite enough to the newcomer, but they did not run after him. The +Chickens used to laugh when the Peacock uttered his cry of "Paon! Paon!" +His voice was harsh and disagreeable, and it did seem so funny to hear +such dreadful sounds coming from such a lovely throat. + +The Black Spanish Cock reproved the Chickens sharply for this. "It is +very rude," said he, "to laugh at people for things they cannot help. +How would you like to have a Lamb follow you around and bleat, 'Look at +that Chicken! He has only two legs! Hello, little two-legs; how can you +walk?' It is just as bad for you to laugh at his harsh voice, because he +cannot help it. If he should say foolish and silly things, you might +laugh, because he could help that if he tried. Don't ever again let me +hear you laughing when he is just saying 'Paon.'" + +The Chickens minded the Black Spanish Cock, for they knew he was right +and that he did not do rude things himself. They remembered everything +he said, too. + +One day the Peacock was standing on the fence alone. He did this most of +the time. He usually stood with his back to the farmyard, so that people +who passed could see his train but not his feet. A party of young fowls +of all families came along. Their mothers had let them go off by +themselves, and they stopped to look at the Peacock. + +"I do think you have the most beautiful tail, sir," said a Duckling, +giving her own little pointed one a sideways shake as she spoke. + +"Please call it my train," said the Peacock. "It is beautiful and I am +very proud of it. Not every fowl can grow such a train as that." + +[Illustration: THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE.] + +"Oh, dear, no!" giggled a jolly little Bantam Chicken. "I'd grow one in +a minute if I could." + +This made all the other young fowls laugh, for they thought how funny +the little brown Bantam would look dragging around a great mass of +feathers like that. + +The Peacock did not even smile. He never understood a joke anyway. He +was always so busy thinking about himself that he couldn't see the +point. Now he cleared his throat and spoke to the Bantam Chicken. + +"I hope you don't think that I grew my train in a minute," said he. "It +took me a long, long time, although I kept all the feathers going at +once." + +"Look at his crest!" exclaimed one young Turkey in his piping voice. + +The Peacock turned his head so that they could see it more plainly. +"That is a crest to be proud of," he said. "I have never seen a finer +one myself. Have you noticed the beauty of my neck?" + +"Charming!" "Wonderful!" "Beautiful!" exclaimed the young fowls. Just +then one of the spoiled Dove children flew down from the barn roof and +sat beside the Peacock. + +"What homely feet you have!" this Squab exclaimed. "Are you not +dreadfully ashamed of them?" + +The young fowls thought this rude. Not one of them would have said it. +The Peacock became very angry. "I know my feet are not so handsome as +they might be," he said, "but that is no reason why I should be ashamed +of them. I couldn't help having that kind of feet. They run in my +family. I don't feel ashamed of things I can't help." + +The young fowls felt so uncomfortable after this that they walked away, +and the Squab flew back to the Dove-cote. For a time nobody spoke. Then +a Gosling, who had heard her mother talk about the Peacock, said, "I +should think he would be proud of his train, and his crest, and his +neck, and--and everything!" + +"Everything except his feet," giggled the Bantam Chicken, "and you know +he couldn't help having them." + +"I wonder if he could help having his train, and his crest, and his +neck, and--and everything?" said a young Turkey. + +They all stopped where they were. "We never thought of that!" they +cried. "We never thought of that!" + +"Let's go and ask the Blind Horse," said a Duckling. "He is a good +friend of mine, and he knows almost everything." + +They stalked and waddled over to the Blind Horse, and the Duckling told +him what was puzzling them. The Blind Horse laughed very heartily. "So +the Peacock is proud of having grown such a fine train and crest, but he +isn't ashamed of his homely feet, because he couldn't help having +those! There is no reason for either pride or shame with the Peacock. He +has just such a body as was given him, and he couldn't make one feather +grow differently if he tried." + +"I don't see what anybody can be proud of, then," said a Gosling sadly; +for, you see, she wanted to be proud of something. + +"Be proud of what you have done yourself," said the Blind Horse gently. +"Be proud of keeping clean, or of telling the truth, or of speaking +pleasantly when things go wrong. There are plenty of chances to be proud +in a good way, if one must be proud." + + + + +THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN + + +"Well," said the Gobbler, "I should like to know what next! Last spring +it was the White Pig, when we had never had any but black and brown ones +on the place. Next it was Ducks, because one of the farmer's boys wanted +them. Then it was the Peacock, to please the farmer's wife. Now it is +Guinea Fowls for the farmer's other son. Society isn't what it used to +be here, and while some of the new people may be very pleasant, I must +say that I preferred the good old quiet days." + +"I think it is lovely," cackled the cheerful little Bantam Hen. "One +hears so much of the world outside, and for people like myself, who +stay at home, that is a good thing. Everybody loved the White Pig before +she had been here two days, and my children are very fond of the +Ducklings. I like to have them together, too, for after I had told them +positively that my Chickens could not go in swimming, they stopped +teasing and became most delightful playmates." + +"What would you say about the Peacock?" asked the Shanghai Cock, who had +never been friendly with him, although, to tell the truth, the Shanghai +Cock was not so grumpy as he used to be. + +"Er--er--well," said the Bantam Hen, who tried not to say unpleasant +things about people unless she really had to, "he--he is certainly +beautiful, although I can't say that I am fond of hearing him sing." + +This made all the fowls laugh, even the Gobbler looking a little smiling +around the beak on the side where his hanging wattle did not hide his +face. When the Hen Turkeys on the smiling side saw that he was pleased, +they began to smile too; and then the Hen Turkeys on the other side, who +hadn't been sure that it was safe for them to do so, smiled also. And it +did them all a great deal of good. + +"I didn't see the Guinea Fowls," said one of the Geese. "We were +swimming when they came. How do they look? Are they handsomely dressed? +We shall not call upon them unless they are our kind of people." It was +some time since their last plucking for the season, and the Geese were +growing more airy every day now. + +"They are really very peculiar," said the Black Spanish Hen, "and not at +all common-looking. I should call them decidedly genteel." Here the +Geese looked at each other and nodded. They were always talking about +being genteel, although if you had asked them, they might not have been +able to tell what they meant by the word. "They are shaped quite like +small Hen Turkeys," added the Black Spanish Hen "and their feathers are +a dark bluish-gray with round white spots all over them. They do not +wear any feathers on top of their heads. When I saw the first one, I +thought she must have lost hers in an accident, but after the others +came up, I knew it must be the custom in their family." + +"And they are shaped like us?" asked the Hen Turkeys all together. They +were thinking that perhaps the Black Spanish Hen would call them +genteel-looking also, but she didn't. + +"Very much like you," she replied. "In fact, I think they said something +about being related to your family, although I am not sure. Do you +remember, dear?" she said, turning to the Black Spanish Cock. + +"Certainly," he answered. "The Guinea Hen with the orange-colored legs +said that their family was related to both the Turkeys and the Peacocks, +and that they were pleased to see members of those families here." + +"Gobble-gobble-gobble," called the Gobbler to the Hen Turkeys. "You must +call upon our relatives as soon as you can. I will go later. I always +wait to find out more about strangers before calling. It is my way." He +didn't stop to think that if everybody waited as long as he did, the +strangers would be very lonely. + +After this, they scattered to feed, and the Hen Turkeys and their +children looked for the Guinea Fowls. "Listen," said one, "and we may +hear them talking to each other." They stood still, with their heads +well up and turned a little to one side. They heard a harsh voice +saying, "Ca-mac! Ca-mac!" and as none of their old friends ever said +"Ca-mac!" they knew at once that it was one of the newcomers. They +walked around the corner of the Sheep-shed, and there found them, a +Guinea Cock and two Guinea Hens. One of the Guinea Hens had +orange-colored legs, while the others had dark grayish-brown ones. + +"Good-morning," said the Hen Turkeys. "Are you the Guinea Fowls?" + +"We are," said the one with the bright-colored legs, "and you are the +Turkeys, are you not?" + +"We are the Hen Turkeys," said they, "and these are our children. The +Gobbler didn't feel that he could come with us this morning, but he will +come later. He got very tired in Grasshopper season and is hardly over +it yet." + +"That is too bad," said the Guinea Cock politely. "We hope he will soon +be better. It is a hard time for all Turkeys--so much running to and +fro, besides the stretching of the neck whenever a Grasshopper comes +near." + +"Perhaps he overate somewhat," said one of the Hen Turkeys. "We were +quite worried about him for a time. He slept so poorly and dreamed that +he was being chased. He always has a good appetite, and you know how it +is when there is so much food around. One cannot let it alone." + +So they chatted on about one thing and another, and walked as they +visited. The Guinea Fowls were more fussy and restless than the Turkeys, +and even when they were speaking would run after some dainty bit of food +that had just caught their eyes. Of course the Hen Turkeys said how glad +they were to have the Guinea Fowls come there to live, and hoped that +they would enjoy their new home. All of the farmyard people thought it a +most delightful place. + +"Oh, yes," cried the Guinea Hen with the bright-colored legs, "it is +very pleasant, of course, but I wish you could see the farm we left." + +"Why! Was it better than this?" asked the Turkey Chicks, crowding around +her. They were so surprised that they forgot their mothers' telling them +that if they came they must be very quiet, and making them all repeat +together, "Little Turkeys should be seen and not heard." + +"Better? My dears, it was not to be spoken of in the same breath. I +understand that when one has always lived here, this may seem very nice, +but when one has known better things, it is hard to be contented." + +"Still, we shall be very happy here, I am sure," said the other Guinea +Hen, the one with the brown legs. "People all seem so bright and +pleasant. I like it very much indeed." + +"We are glad of that," said the Turkeys all together. "We really must be +going. We fear we have stayed too long already. The Gobbler will wonder +if we are never coming back. Good-morning." + +As they walked off to look for him, one Hen Turkey said to another, "It +must be hard to come here after living on that farm." + +"Yes," was the answer, "I suppose that we don't really know what comfort +is here." + +When the Gobbler asked them about the Guinea Fowls, and how they were +enjoying their new home, the Hen Turkeys sighed and answered, "Oh, as +well as they can enjoy this farm, we suppose." The Gobbler was a little +surprised by this reply, but he said nothing, and as he pecked at the +corn which had just been spilled from the load the Oxen were drawing, he +thought, "I wish we could have better corn to eat. This does not taste +quite as it should." + +When the Geese met the Guinea Fowls, they began to speak of the pleasure +of living on such a fine farm. "Ah," said the Guinea Hen with the +bright-colored legs, "how I wish you might see the one we left when we +came here. It was so different." + +The other Guinea Fowls looked uncomfortable when she spoke in this way, +and stood first on one foot and then on the other. Then the Cock said +something about the sunshiny fall weather, and the good neighbors, +and--and---- + +The Gander spoke again of the farm. "It is not all that we could wish," +said he; "still there are some good things about it. There are several +swimming places which are fine and cold in winter." + +"If it were only better cared for," said the Gray Goose. "I had a +dreadful time a while ago, when I tried to get through a hole in the +fence. I don't remember what was the matter with the hole, and perhaps I +never knew, but the farmer should have such things fixed. My neck was +lame for days afterward, and he was wholly to blame." + +After this, the Geese found fault with almost everything, and when there +was no one thing to grumble about, they sighed because, "It was so +different from what it might be." It was not long before even the spring +Chickens, the Goslings, and the Ducklings were speaking in the same way, +and the poultry-yard was a most doleful place. The Bantam Hen was the +only really cheerful fowl there, and she got so tired of hearing the +rest sigh and grumble, that she often slipped between the pickets of the +fence and went to have a comfortable chat with the Oxen. + +One day she fluttered toward them in a most excited manner. "Do I look +nearly crazy?" said she. "I feel so. Ever since our last storm, the +Guinea Fowls have been shut in with us, and I would give half of my +tail-feathers if they had never come here. That one with the +orange-colored legs can't see good in anything, and all of our steady, +sensible fowls have heard it until they begin to believe that this farm +is a wretched place." + +"What do they do?" asked the Nigh Ox, who always enjoyed hearing the +Bantam Hen talk. + +"Do?" said she, shaking her dainty little head. "They don't do much of +anything. That is what is the matter, and the young fowls are the worst +of all. You know how it used to be at feeding time? We all fluttered and +squabbled for the first chance at the food. Some Hen got the biggest +piece, and then the rest would chase her from one corner to another, and +not give her a chance to break and swallow any of it until she would +share with them. It was great fun, and we never left a scrap uneaten. +Now, what do you think?" + +"Can't imagine," exclaimed the Oxen in one breath. + +"Well, they all stand around on one foot for a while, and I am the only +one eating. Then somebody says, 'I wonder if this is any better than +the last we had.' Another will groan, 'Oh, is it time to eat again?' or, +'Suppose I must eat something to keep up my strength.' Then I hear the +bright-legged Guinea Hen say, 'Ca-mac! Ca-mac! This is all so different, +so very different from what I have been used to.' The Cock and the other +Hen of that family are nice enough if you only get them away from her." + +"What nonsense!" exclaimed the Oxen together, and they spoke quite +sharply for them. + +"I wish," said the Bantam Hen very slowly, and as though she meant every +word--"I wish the bright-legged one were back where it was 'so +different.' Perhaps then my friends would begin to act like themselves." + +"Where did she come from?" asked the Off Ox. "It seems to me that I saw +a bright-legged Guinea Hen somewhere not long ago." He thought very +hard, so hard that he swallowed his cud without knowing he did so. + +"Wasn't it at the place where we took that load of stone the other day?" +asked the Nigh Ox, trying to help his brother. He knew how disagreeable +it is not to be able to recall anything of that sort. + +"It was," cried the Off Ox; "and a very poor farm it is. It was the same +Hen too. Talk about its being different! I should say it was different +from this place, but there are a good many ways of being different. +Um-hum! I think I will talk with the discontented Guinea Hen before +long, and I want you to see that the other fowls are listening when I +do." + +Although he would say nothing more, the Bantam Hen saw from the look in +his eyes that he meant to stop the Guinea Hen's complaining, so she went +away feeling happier. Then the Off Ox unswallowed his cud and began to +chew it as though nothing had happened. His brother heard him chuckle +once in a while, and say, "Different!" under his breath. + +When the Off Ox awakened from time to time during that night and heard +the Guinea Hens talking in the dark, he chuckled again to himself. The +Guinea Cock was a sound sleeper, but the Hens always talked a great deal +between sunset and sunrise, and especially if it were about to rain. +Other people thought that they might talk more in the daytime and then +keep quiet when their neighbors wanted to sleep. They declared that they +always remembered so many things to say as soon as they went to roost, +and that if they waited until morning they might forget more than half. + +The very next day, the Off Ox had the chance he wanted. He and his +brother were yoked to the stone-boat and left standing by the +poultry-yard. "Good-afternoon," said he. "Is the bright-legged Guinea +Hen here?" + +"I am," she answered, coming close to the pickets. + +"We are just going over to your old home," said he, "with this load of +stone. Have you any messages to send to your friends?" + +The Guinea Hen looked rather uncomfortable, and stood first on one foot +and then the other. "Tell them I am well," said she. + +"I will," said the Off Ox, in his hearty way. "I will try to tell them +all. I think I can, too, for there did not seem to be many people in +that farmyard. I didn't see Ducks or Geese at all. Are there any living +there?" + +"No," said the Guinea Hen. She did not seem to think of anything else to +say, although nobody spoke for a long time. + +"Of course not!" exclaimed the Off Ox. "How stupid of me to ask. There +is no brook or river on that farm." + +Still the Guinea Hen said nothing. + +"We are dragging stone for their new barn," said the Off Ox. "Or perhaps +I should say for their barn. One could hardly say that they have any +yet, although I suppose they use those loosely built sheds for barns. I +wonder people can spend a winter where there are such drafts; still, +home is always home, and people love it for that reason. We are glad to +have your family with us, not only to keep away the Crows (which was +part of the Guinea Fowls' work), but because you will be more +comfortable. I've never yet in all my travels seen so good a farm as +this, and the one you left was so different! Good-bye." + +There was not much talking in the poultry-yard the rest of the +afternoon, although most of the fowls looked happier than they had for +many days. When supper-time came, the Dorking Hen snatched the biggest +pieces of food, and the others chased her from corner to corner in quite +the old way. Every scrap was eaten, and nobody laughed when the Shanghai +Cock said that the fine weather had given him a better appetite. It was +really a dark and chilly day, but they had stopped thinking how much +better off they would be if they only lived somewhere else. As soon as +they stopped thinking that, they could see how well they were cared for +at home. And so, although nobody had really looked at the sky or thought +about the weather, everybody had a feeling that the sun must have been +shining. + +Perhaps the Guinea Cock and the other Guinea Hen were the happiest of +all, for they had not known what to do or say when the bright-legged one +talked about her old home. It all seemed like a joke now, yet she never +liked the Off Ox after that day. The other fowls were as nice to her as +ever, for they knew it was a sad thing to be so discontented, and they +knew, also, that if they had not been foolish enough to let her, she +could never have made them unhappy. + + + + +THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES + + +It was a clear, cold winter morning, and the Cattle stood in the +barnyard where the great yellow straw-stacks were. They had nibbled away +at the lower part of these stacks until there was a sheltered place +underneath. The Calves liked to stand on the sunshiny side with an +over-hanging ledge of straw above their heads. The wind did not strike +them here, and they could reach up and pull out wisps to eat when they +had nothing else to do. Not that they were so fond of eating straw, but +it was fun to pull it out. There was, however, usually something else to +be done, for there was always their cud to chew. + +Among all the farmyard people, there were none more particular about +their food. They might eat in a hurry when time was short, or when the +grass was fresh and green, but after they had swallowed it and filled +the first of their four stomachs with partly chewed food, they would +find some quiet and comfortable place where they could stand or lie +easily and finish their eating. To do this, they had to bring the partly +chewed food from the first stomach to the mouth again. They called this +"unswallowing it," although they should have said "regurgitating." + +After the food was back in their mouths again, it was spoken of as their +cud, and the stout muscles in the sides of their faces pulled their +lower jaws up and down and sideways, and the food was caught over and +over again between the blunt grinding teeth in the back part of their +mouths, and was crushed, squeezed, and turned until it was fine, soft, +and ready to swallow into the second stomach. + +Then the Cattle do not have to think of it again, but while they are +doing something quite different, and perhaps forgetting all about it, +there are many nerves and muscles and fine red blood-drops as busy as +can be, passing it into the third and fourth stomachs, and changing the +strength of the food into the strength of the Cattle. The Cows and the +Oxen do not know this. They never heard of muscles and nerves, and +perhaps you never did before, yet these are wonderful little helpers and +good friends if one is kind to them. All that Cattle know about eating +is that they must have clean food, that they must eat because they are +hungry and not just because it tastes good, and that they must chew it +very carefully. And if they do these things as they should, they are +quite sure to be well and comfortable. + +The Oxen were standing by the barn door, and the Calves were talking +about them. They liked their uncles, the Oxen, very much, but like many +other Calves the world over, they thought them rather slow and +old-fashioned. Now the Colts had been saying the same thing, and so +these half-dozen shaggy youngsters, who hadn't a sign of a horn, were +telling what they would do if they were Oxen. Sometimes they spoke more +loudly than they meant to, and the Oxen heard them, but they did not +know this. + +"If I were an Ox," said one, "I wouldn't stand still and let the farmer +put that heavy yoke on my neck. I'd edge away and kick." + +"Tell you what I'd do," said another. "I'd stand right still when he +tried to make me go, and I wouldn't stir until I got ready." + +"I wouldn't do that," said a third. "I'd run away and upset the stone in +a ditch. I don't think it's fair to always make them pull the heavy +loads while the Horses have all the fun of taking the farmer to town and +drawing the binder and all the other wonderful machines." + +"Isn't it too bad that you are not Oxen?" said a deep voice behind them. +The Calves jumped, and there was the Off Ox close to them. He was so +near that you could not have set a Chicken coop between him and them, +and he had heard every word. The Calves did not know where to look or +what to say, for they had not been speaking very politely. The one who +had just spoken wanted to act easy and as though he did not care, so he +raised one hind hoof to scratch his ear, and gave his brushy tail a toss +over one flank. "Oh, I don't know," said he. + +"I used to talk in just that way when I was a Calf," said the Off Ox, +with a twinkle in his large brown eyes. "All Calves think they'll do +wonders when they're grown." + +"I know I thought so," said the Nigh Ox, who had followed his brother. + +"Well, if you wanted to," asked the Red Calf, "why don't you do those +things now?" The others wondered how he dared to ask such a question. + +"It doesn't pay," said the Nigh Ox. "Do all your frisking in playtime. I +like fun as well as anybody, yet when our yoke is taken from its peg, I +say business is business and the closer we stick to it the better. I +knew a sitting Hen once who wanted to see everything that happened. She +was always running out to see somebody or other, and sometimes she +stayed longer than she meant to. I told her she'd better stick to her +nest, and she said she didn't believe in working all the time." + +"How soon did her Chickens hatch?" asked the Calves all together. + +"Never did hatch, of course," chuckled the Nigh Ox. "She fooled herself +into thinking she was working, and she made a great fuss about her legs +aching and her giving up society, but she couldn't fool that nestful of +eggs. They had gotten cold and they knew it, and not one of them would +hatch." + +"Wasn't she ashamed then?" asked the Calves. + +"Didn't act so," snorted the Nigh Ox. "Went around talking about her +great disappointment, and said she couldn't see why the other Hens had +so much better luck." + +The Off Ox chuckled. "He told her that he guessed it might have been +something besides bad luck, and that the next time she'd better stay on +her nest more. Then she asked him how many broods of Chickens he had +hatched. Ho-ho-ho!" + +Everybody laughed, and the Calves wondered how the Nigh Ox could think +of it without being angry. "It wouldn't pay to be angry," he said. +"What's the use of wasting a fine great Ox temper on a poor little Hen +rudeness?" + +This made them think. They remembered how cross and hot and +uncomfortable they often became over very small things that bothered +them, and they began to think that perhaps even Calf tempers were worth +caring for. + +At last the Black Calf, the prettiest one in the yard, said, "Do you +like drawing that flat wagon which hasn't any wheels, and scrapes along +in the dust?" + +"The stone-boat?" asked the Off Ox. "We don't mind it. Never mind doing +our kind of work. Wouldn't like to pull the binder with its shining +knives and whirling arms, for whoever does that has to walk fast and +make sudden turns and stops. Wouldn't like being hitched to the carriage +to carry the farmer's family to town. Wouldn't like to take care of the +Sheep, like Collie, or to grow feathers like the Geese--but we can draw +stone-boats and all sorts of heavy loads, if we do say it." + +The Red Calf, who was always running and kicking up his heels, said, +"Oh, it's such slow work! I should think you'd feel that you would never +reach the end of your journey." + +"We don't think about that," answered the Nigh Ox. "It doesn't pay. We +used to, though. I remember the time when I wished myself a Swallow, +flying a mile a minute, instead of step-step-stepping my way through +life. My mother was a sensible Cow, and wore the bell in our herd. She +cured me of that foolishness. She told me that Swallows had to fly one +wing-beat at a time, and that dinners had to be eaten one mouthful at a +time, and that nothing really worth while could be done in a minute. She +said that if we were forever thinking how much work we had to do and +how tiresome it was, we'd never enjoy life, and we wouldn't live long +either. Lazy Oxen never do. That's another thing which doesn't pay." + +The Red Calf and the White Calf spoke together: "We will always be +sensible. We will never lose our tempers. We will never be afraid to +work. We will be fine and long-lived cattle." + +"Might you not better say you will _try_ to be sensible?" asked the Nigh +Ox. "You know it is not always easy to do those things, and one has to +begin over and over again." + +"Oh, no," they answered. "We know what we can do." + +"You might be mistaken," said the Oxen gently. + +"I am never mistaken," said the Red Calf. + +"Neither am I," said the White Calf. + +"Well, good-morning," called the Oxen, as they moved off. "We are going +to talk with our sisters, the Cows." + +After they had gone, the pretty Black Calf spoke in her pleasant way: +"It seems to me I shall be an old Cow before I can learn to be good and +sensible like them, but I am going to try." + +"Pooh!" said the Red Calf. "It is easy enough to be sensible if you want +to be--as easy as eating." + +"Yes," said the White Calf. "I shall never lose my temper again, now +that I am sure it is foolish to do so." + +"Dear me!" said the pretty Black Calf. "How strong and good you must be. +I can only keep on trying." + +"Pooh!" said the Red Calf again. Then he lowered his voice and spoke to +her. "Move along," said he, "and let me stand beside you in the cubby +while I chew my cud." + +"Don't you do it," cried the White Calf. "I want that place myself." + +[Illustration: THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF.] + +"I guess not!" exclaimed the Red Calf. "I'll bunt you first." + +"Bunt away, then," said the White Calf, "but I'll have that place." + +"Oh, please don't fight!" exclaimed the Black Calf. "I'll let one of you +have my corner." + +"Don't you move," cried each of them. "I want to stand by you." Then +they lowered their heads and looked into each other's eyes. Next, they +put their hard foreheads together, and pushed and pushed and pushed. +Sometimes the Red Calf made the White Calf go backward, and sometimes it +was the other way. Once in a while they stood still and rested. Then +they began pushing again. + +While they were quarrelling in this way, getting warmer and more angry +all the time, and losing those very tempers which they had said they +would always keep, a young Jersey had stepped into the cubby beside the +Black Calf, and they were having a pleasant visit. "What are those +fellows fighting about?" he asked. + +The Black Calf smiled a funny little smile. "They are fighting," said +she, "to see which one shall stand in the cubby with me and chew his +cud." + +The Jersey Calf was a shrewd young fellow of very good family. +"Perhaps," said he, "I ought to stay and guard the place until it is +decided who shall have it." + +"I wish you would," said she. + +And that was how it happened that the two Calves who lost their tempers +had a cross, tiresome, and uncomfortable day, while another had the very +corner which they wanted. When night came, they grumbled because the +Jersey Calf had come out ahead of them, and they thought it very +strange. But it was not strange, for the people who are quiet and +good-natured always come out ahead in the end. And the people who are so +very sure that it is easy to be good when they really want to, are just +the very ones who sometimes do not want to when they should. + +The Black Calf was right. The only way to be sensible and happy is to +try and try and try, and it does pay. + + + + * * * * * + + + +Among the Forest People. + +By CLARA D. PIERSON. + +Illustrated by F. C. Gordon. + +12mo, 220 pages, cloth, gilt top--$1.25. + +[Illustration] + +"A most charming series of stories for children--yes, and for children +of all ages, both young and old--is given us in the volume before us. No +one can read these realistic conversations of the little creatures of +the wood without being most tenderly drawn toward them, and each story +teaches many entertaining facts regarding the lives and habits of these +little people. Mothers and teachers must welcome this little book most +cordially. One cannot speak too strongly in praise of it."--_Boston +Transcript._ + +"In pleasant story-telling guise, much information is conveyed, and the +pictures are a further help. A clever and charming book."--_Philadelphia +Eve. Telegraph._ + +"Is a book that every child will like to read."--_Hartford Courant._ + +"The scheme of the book is felicitous, and it is worked out with an +acute and sympathetic appreciation of methods for enlisting the +attention and impressing intelligently the memory of children. The +illustrations are distinctly helpful."--_Troy Daily Press._ + +"One does not know which to admire most--the intimate footing upon which +the author stands with the forest folk, or the intelligent sympathy she +has with sweet child life. She seems to be equally in touch with +both."--_Churchman._ + + +Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. + +E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers, 31 West 23d Street, New York. + + + + * * * * * + + + +"_Many a mother and teacher will accord a vote of thanks to +the author._" + +[Illustration] + +~Among the Meadow People.~ + +STORIES OF FIELD LIFE, WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE ONES. + +By CLARA D. PIERSON. + +Illustrated by F. C. GORDON. + + 12mo, 127 pages, cloth, gilt top $1.25. + + * * * * * + +"One of the daintiest and in many ways most attractive of the many books +of nature study which the past year has brought forth."--_Boston +Advertiser._ + +"They are like Mrs. Gatty's well-known 'Parables from Nature,' written +in the best of English, as fascinating as fairy tales, and yet 'really +true,' a quality which we all know appeals to the childish mind."--_N. +Y. Evangelist._ + +"We have seen nothing better for its purpose, and hope many a teacher of +kindergartens and many a mother may avail herself of the privilege of +using these little tales."--_N.Y. Christian Advocate._ + +"It will be a great advance in the work of education in the school and +the home when such books are more generally utilized."--_Zion's Herald._ + +"These charming stories of field life will delight many a child of +kindergarten age; and it is safe to say that older brothers and sisters +will also want to claim a share in them."--_Christian Register._ + + * * * * * + +Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. + + E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers, + + 31 West 23d Street, New York. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Among the Farmyard People, by +Clara Dillingham Pierson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMONG THE FARMYARD PEOPLE *** + +***** This file should be named 19381.txt or 19381.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/8/19381/ + +Produced by David Newman, Chuck Greif, Janet Blenkinship +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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