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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/2486-0.txt b/2486-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ba864c --- /dev/null +++ b/2486-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2665 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Queer Little Folks, by Harriet Beecher Stowe + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Queer Little Folks + + +Author: Harriet Beecher Stowe + + + +Release Date: March 30, 2015 [eBook #2486] +[This file was first posted on March 4, 2000] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEER LITTLE FOLKS*** + + +Transcribed from the 1897 T. Nelson and Sons edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org. Proofed by Rab Hughes, Carrie A. Fellman and +Susan A. Wheeler. + + [Picture: Book cover] + + + + + + QUEER + LITTLE FOLKS + + + _By_ + _HARRIET BEECHER STOWE_ + + * * * * * + + * * * * * + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS + + * * * * * + + * * * * * + + London: + T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW. + EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK. + 1897 + + * * * * * + + + + +Contents. + +Hen that Hatched Ducks 11 +The Nutcrackers of Nutcracker Lodge 29 +The History of Tip-Top 43 +Miss Katy-Did and Miss Cricket 61 +Mother Magpie’s Mischief 70 +The Squirrels that live in a House 80 +Hum, the Son of Buz 93 +Our Country Neighbours 106 +The Diverting History of Little Whiskey 117 + + + + +List of Illustrations. + +The Brood Hatched 19 +Feeding the Fame Robin 59 +Erecting the Hen-House 15 +The Hen that Hatched Ducks 25 +Enemies in Waiting 39 +The Nest in the Apple-Tree 47 +Tip-Top in bad Company 57 +Venturous Squirrels 89 + + + + +_HEN THAT HATCHED DUCKS_. +A STORY. + + +ONCE there was a nice young hen that we will call Mrs. Feathertop. She +was a hen of most excellent family, being a direct descendant of the +Bolton Grays, and as pretty a young fowl as you could wish to see of a +summer’s day. She was, moreover, as fortunately situated in life as it +was possible for a hen to be. She was bought by young Master Fred Little +John, with four or five family connections of hers, and a lively young +cock, who was held to be as brisk a scratcher and as capable a head of a +family as any half-dozen sensible hens could desire. + +I can’t say that at first Mrs. Feathertop was a very sensible hen. She +was very pretty and lively, to be sure, and a great favourite with Master +Bolton Gray Cock, on account of her bright eyes, her finely shaded +feathers, and certain saucy dashing ways that she had which seemed +greatly to take his fancy. But old Mrs. Scratchard, living in the +neighbouring yard, assured all the neighbourhood that Gray Cock was a +fool for thinking so much of that flighty young thing; _that_ she had not +the smallest notion how to get on in life, and thought of nothing in the +world but her own pretty feathers. “Wait till she comes to have +chickens,” said Mrs. Scratchard; “then you will see. I have brought up +ten broods myself—as likely and respectable chickens as ever were a +blessing to society—and I think I ought to know a good hatcher and +brooder when I see her; and I know _that_ fine piece of trumpery, with +her white feathers tipped with gray, never will come down to family life. +_She_ scratch for chickens! Bless me, she never did anything in all her +days but run round and eat the worms which somebody else scratched up for +her.” + +When Master Bolton Gray heard this he crowed very loudly, like a cock of +spirit, and declared that old Mrs. Scratchard was envious, because she +had lost all her own tail-feathers, and looked more like a worn-out old +feather-duster than a respectable hen, and that therefore she was filled +with sheer envy of anybody that was young and pretty. So young Mrs. +Feathertop cackled gay defiance at her busy rubbishy neighbour, as she +sunned herself under the bushes on fine June afternoons. + +Now Master Fred Little John had been allowed to have these hens by his +mamma on the condition that he would build their house himself, and take +all the care of it; and to do Master Fred justice, he executed the job in +a small way quite creditably. He chose a sunny sloping bank covered with +a thick growth of bushes, and erected there a nice little hen-house with +two glass windows, a little door, and a good pole for his family to roost +on. He made, moreover, a row of nice little boxes with hay in them for +nests, and he bought three or four little smooth white china eggs to put +in them, so that, when his hens _did_ lay, he might carry off their eggs +without their being missed. This hen-house stood in a little grove that +sloped down to a wide river, just where there was a little cove which +reached almost to the hen-house. + + [Picture: Erecting the Hen-House] + +This situation inspired one of Master Fred’s boy advisers with a new +scheme in relation to his poultry enterprise. “Hallo! I say, Fred,” +said Tom Seymour, “you ought to raise ducks; you’ve got a capital place +for ducks there.” + +“Yes; but I’ve bought _hens_, you see,” said Freddy; “so it’s no use +trying.” + +“No use! Of course there is. Just as if your hens couldn’t hatch ducks’ +eggs. Now you just wait till one of your hens wants to sit, and you put +ducks’ eggs under her, and you’ll have a family of ducks in a twinkling. +You can buy ducks’ eggs a plenty of old Sam under the hill. He always +has hens hatch his ducks.” + +So Freddy thought it would be a good experiment, and informed his mother +the next morning that he intended to furnish the ducks for the next +Christmas dinner and when she wondered how he was to come by them, he +said mysteriously, “Oh, I will show you how,” but did not further explain +himself. The next day he went with Tom Seymour and made a trade with old +Sam, and gave him a middle-aged jack-knife for eight of his ducks’ eggs. +Sam, by-the-by, was a woolly-headed old negro man, who lived by the pond +hard by, and who had long cast envying eyes on Fred’s jack-knife, because +it was of extra fine steel, having been a Christmas present the year +before. But Fred knew very well there were any number more of +jack-knives where that came from, and that, in order to get a new one, he +must dispose of the old; so he made the purchase and came home rejoicing. + +Now about this time Mrs. Feathertop, having laid her eggs daily with +great credit to herself, notwithstanding Mrs. Scratchard’s predictions, +began to find herself suddenly attacked with nervous symptoms. She lost +her gay spirits, grew dumpish and morose, stuck up her feathers in a +bristling way, and pecked at her neighbours if they did so much as look +at her. Master Gray Cock was greatly concerned, and went to old Dr. +Peppercorn, who looked solemn, and recommended an infusion of +angle-worms, and said he would look in on the patient twice a day till +she was better. + +“Gracious me, Gray Cock!” said old Goody Kertarkut, who had been lolling +at the corner as he passed, “ain’t you a fool?—cocks always are fools. +Don’t you know what’s the matter with your wife? She wants to sit, +that’s all; and you just let her sit. A fiddlestick for Dr. Peppercorn! +Why, any good old hen that has brought up a family knows more than a +doctor about such things. You just go home and tell her to sit if she +wants to, and behave herself.” + +When Gray Cock came home, he found that Master Freddy had been before +him, and had established Mrs. Feathertop upon eight nice eggs, where she +was sitting in gloomy grandeur. He tried to make a little affable +conversation with her, and to relate his interview with the doctor and +Goody Kertarkut; but she was morose and sullen, and only pecked at him +now and then in a very sharp, unpleasant way. So after a few more +efforts to make himself agreeable he left her, and went out promenading +with the captivating Mrs. Red Comb, a charming young Spanish widow, who +had just been imported into the neighbouring yard. + +“Bless my soul,” said he, “you’ve no idea how cross my wife is.” + +“O you horrid creature!” said Mrs. Red Comb. “How little you feel for +the weaknesses of us poor hens!” + +“On my word, ma’am,” said Gray Cock, “you do me injustice. But when a +hen gives way to temper, ma’am, and no longer meets her husband with a +smile—when she even pecks at him whom she is bound to honour and obey—” + +“Horrid monster! talking of obedience! I should say, sir, you came +straight from Turkey.” And Mrs. Red Comb tossed her head with a most +bewitching air, and pretended to run away; and old Mrs. Scratchard looked +out of her coop and called to Goody Kertarkut,— + +“Look how Mr. Gray Cock is flirting with that widow. I always knew she +was a baggage.” + +“And his poor wife left at home alone,” said Goody Kertarkut. “It’s the +way with ’em all!” + +“Yes, yes,” said Dame Scratchard, “she’ll know what real life is now, and +she won’t go about holding her head so high, and looking down on her +practical neighbours that have raised families.” + +“Poor thing! what’ll she do with a family?” said Goody Kertarkut. + +“Well, what business have such young flirts to get married?” said Dame +Scratchard. “I don’t expect she’ll raise a single chick; and there’s +Gray Cock flirting about, fine as ever. Folks didn’t do so when I was +young. I’m sure my husband knew what treatment a sitting hen ought to +have,—poor old Long Spur! he never minded a peck or so and then. I must +say these modern fowls ain’t what fowls used to be.” + +Meanwhile the sun rose and set, and Master Fred was almost the only +friend and associate of poor little Mrs. Feathertop, whom he fed daily +with meal and water, and only interrupted her sad reflections by pulling +her up occasionally to see how the eggs were coming on. + +At last “Peep, peep, peep,” began to be heard in the nest, and one little +downy head after another poked forth from under the feathers, surveying +the world with round, bright, winking eyes; and gradually the brood were +hatched, and Mrs. Feathertop arose, a proud and happy mother, with all +the bustling, scratching, care-taking instincts of family-life warm +within her breast. She clucked and scratched, and cuddled the little +downy bits of things as handily and discreetly as a seven-year-old hen +could have done, exciting thereby the wonder of the community. + + [Picture: The Brood Hatched] + +Master Gray Cock came home in high spirits, and complimented her; told +her she was looking charmingly once more, and said, “Very well, very +nice,” as he surveyed the young brood. So that Mrs. Feathertop began to +feel the world going well with her, when suddenly in came Dame Scratchard +and Goody Kertarkut to make a morning call. + +“Let’s see the chicks,” said Dame Scratchard. + +“Goodness me,” said Goody Kertarkut, “what a likeness to their dear +papa!” + +“Well, but bless me, what’s the matter with their bills?” said Dame +Scratchard. “Why, my dear, these chicks are deformed! I’m sorry for +you, my dear; but it’s all the result of your inexperience. You ought to +have eaten pebble-stones with your meal when you were sitting. Don’t you +see, Dame Kertarkut, what bills they have? That’ll increase, and they’ll +be frightful!” + +“What shall I do?” said Mrs. Feathertop, now greatly alarmed. + +“Nothing, as I know of,” said Dame Scratchard, “since you didn’t come to +me before you sat. I could have told you all about it. Maybe it won’t +kill ’em, but they’ll always be deformed.” + +And so the gossips departed, leaving a sting under the pin-feathers of +the poor little hen mamma, who began to see that her darlings had curious +little spoon-bills, different from her own, and to worry and fret about +it. + +“My dear,” she said to her spouse, “do get Dr. Peppercorn to come in and +look at their bills, and see if anything can be done.” + +Dr. Peppercorn came in, and put on a monstrous pair of spectacles, and +said, “Hum! ha! extraordinary case; very singular.” + +“Did you ever see anything like it, doctor?” said both parents in a +breath. + +“I’ve read of such cases. It’s a calcareous enlargement of the vascular +bony tissue, threatening ossification,” said the doctor. + +“Oh, dreadful! Can it be possible?” shrieked both parents. “Can +anything be done?” + +“Well, I should recommend a daily lotion made of mosquitoes’ horns and +bicarbonate of frogs’ toes, together with a powder, to be taken morning +and night, of muriate of fleas. One thing you must be careful about: +they must never wet their feet, nor drink any water.” + +“Dear me, doctor, I don’t know what I _shall_ do, for they seem to have a +particular fancy for getting into water.” + +“Yes, a morbid tendency often found in these cases of bony tumification +of the vascular tissue of the mouth; but you must resist it, ma’am, as +their life depends upon it.” And with that Dr. Peppercorn glared +gloomily on the young ducks, who were stealthily poking the objectionable +little spoon-bills out from under their mother’s feathers. + +After this poor Mrs. Feathertop led a weary life of it; for the young fry +were as healthy and enterprising a brood of young ducks as ever carried +saucepans on the end of their noses, and they most utterly set themselves +against the doctor’s prescriptions, murmured at the muriate of fleas and +the bicarbonate of frogs’ toes, and took every opportunity to waddle +their little ways down to the mud and water which was in their near +vicinity. So their bills grew larger and larger, as did the rest of +their bodies, and family government grew weaker and weaker. + +“You’ll wear me out, children, you certainly will,” said poor Mrs. +Feathertop. + +“You’ll go to destruction, do ye hear?” said Master Gray Cock. + +“Did you ever see such frights as poor Mrs. Feathertop has got?” said +Dame Scratchard. “I knew what would come of _her_ family—all deformed, +and with a dreadful sort of madness which makes them love to shovel mud +with those shocking spoon-bills of theirs.” + +“It’s a kind of idiocy,” said Goody Kertarkut. “Poor things! they can’t +be kept from the water, nor made to take powders, and so they get worse +and worse.” + +“I understand it’s affecting their feet so that they can’t walk, and a +dreadful sort of net is growing between their toes. What a shocking +visitation!” + +“She brought it on herself,” said Dame Scratchard. “Why didn’t she come +to me before she sat? She was always an upstart, self-conceited thing; +but I’m sure I pity her.” + +Meanwhile the young ducks throve apace. Their necks grew glossy, like +changeable green and gold satin, and though they would not take the +doctor’s medicine, and would waddle in the mud and water—for which they +always felt themselves to be very naughty ducks—yet they grew quite +vigorous and hearty. At last one day the whole little tribe waddled off +down to the bank of the river. It was a beautiful day, and the river was +dancing and dimpling and winking as the little breezes shook the trees +that hung over it. + +“Well,” said the biggest of the little ducks, “in spite of Dr. +Peppercorn, I can’t help longing for the water. I don’t believe it is +going to hurt me; at any rate, here goes,” and in he plumped, and in went +every duck after him, and they threw out their great brown feet as +cleverly as if they had taken swimming lessons all their lives, and +sailed off on the river, away, away among the ferns, under the pink +azaleas, through reeds and rushes, and arrow-heads and pickerel-weed, the +happiest ducks that ever were born; and soon they were quite out of +sight. + +“Well, Mrs. Feathertop, this is a dispensation!” said Mrs. Scratchard. +“Your children are all drowned at last, just as I knew they’d be. The +old music-teacher, Master Bullfrog, that lives down in Water-Dock Lane, +saw ’em all plump madly into the water together this morning. That’s +what comes of not knowing how to bring up a family!” + +Mrs. Feathertop gave only one shriek and fainted dead away, and was +carried home on a cabbage-leaf; and Mr. Gray Cock was sent for, where he +was waiting on Mrs. Red Comb through the squash-vines. + +“It’s a serious time in your family, sir,” said Goody Kertarkut, “and you +ought to be at home supporting your wife. Send for Dr. Peppercorn +without delay.” + +Now as the case was a very dreadful one, Dr. Peppercorn called a council +from the barn-yard of the squire, two miles off, and a brisk young Dr. +Partlett appeared, in a fine suit of brown and gold, with tail-feathers +like meteors. A fine young fellow he was, lately from Paris, with all +the modern scientific improvements fresh in his head. + +When he had listened to the whole story, he clapped his spur into the +ground, and leaning back laughed so loudly that all the cocks in the +neighbourhood crowed. + +Mrs. Feathertop rose up out of her swoon, and Mr. Gray Cock was greatly +enraged. + +“What do you mean, sir, by such behaviour in the house of mourning?” + +“My dear sir, pardon me; but there is no occasion for mourning. My dear +madam, let me congratulate you. There is no harm done. The simple +matter is, dear madam, you have been under a hallucination all along. +The neighbourhood and my learned friend the doctor have all made a +mistake in thinking that these children of yours were hens at all. They +are ducks, ma’am, evidently ducks, and very finely-formed ducks I +daresay.” + + [Picture: The Hen that Hatched Ducks] + +At this moment a quack was heard, and at a distance the whole tribe were +seen coming waddling home, their feathers gleaming in green and gold, and +they themselves in high good spirits. + +“Such a splendid day as we have had!” they all cried in a breath. “And +we know now how to get our own living; we can take care of ourselves in +future, so you need have no further trouble with us.” + +“Madam,” said the doctor, making a bow with an air which displayed his +tail-feathers to advantage, “let me congratulate you on the charming +family you have raised. A finer brood of young, healthy ducks I never +saw. Give me your claw, my dear friend,” he said, addressing the eldest +son. “In our barn-yard no family is more respected than that of the +ducks.” + +And so Madam Feathertop came off glorious at last. And when after this +the ducks used to go swimming up and down the river like so many nabobs +among the admiring hens, Dr. Peppercorn used to look after them and say, +“Ah, I had the care of their infancy!” and Mr. Gray Cock and his wife +used to say, “It was our system of education did that!” + + + + +_THE NUTCRACKERS OF NUTCRACKER LODGE_. + + +MR. and Mrs. Nutcracker were as respectable a pair of squirrels as ever +wore gray brushes over their backs. They were animals of a settled and +serious turn of mind, not disposed to run after vanities and novelties, +but filling their station in life with prudence and sobriety. Nutcracker +Lodge was a hole in a sturdy old chestnut overhanging a shady dell, and +was held to be as respectably kept an establishment as there was in the +whole forest. Even Miss Jenny Wren, the greatest gossip of the +neighbourhood, never found anything to criticise in its arrangements; and +old Parson Too-whit, a venerable owl who inhabited a branch somewhat more +exalted, as became his profession, was in the habit of saving himself +much trouble in his parochial exhortations by telling his parishioners in +short to “look at the Nutcrackers” if they wanted to see what it was to +live a virtuous life. Everything had gone on prosperously with them, and +they had reared many successive families of young Nutcrackers, who went +forth to assume their places in the forest of life, and to reflect credit +on their bringing up,—so that naturally enough they began to have a very +easy way of considering themselves models of wisdom. + +But at last it came along, in the course of events, that they had a son +named Featherhead, who was destined to bring them a great deal of +anxiety. Nobody knows what the reason is, but the fact was, that Master +Featherhead was as different from all the former children of this worthy +couple as if he had been dropped out of the moon into their nest, instead +of coming into it in the general way. Young Featherhead was a squirrel +of good parts and a lively disposition, but he was sulky and contrary and +unreasonable, and always finding matter of complaint in everything his +respectable papa and mamma did. Instead of assisting in the cares of a +family,—picking up nuts and learning other lessons proper to a young +squirrel,—he seemed to settle himself from his earliest years into a sort +of lofty contempt for the Nutcrackers, for Nutcracker Lodge, and for all +the good old ways and institutions of the domestic hole, which he +declared to be stupid and unreasonable, and entirely behind the times. +To be sure, he was always on hand at meal-times, and played a very lively +tooth on the nuts which his mother had collected, always selecting the +very best for himself; but he seasoned his nibbling with so much +grumbling and discontent, and so many severe remarks, as to give the +impression that he considered himself a peculiarly ill-used squirrel in +having to “eat their old grub,” as he very unceremoniously called it. + +Papa Nutcracker, on these occasions, was often fiercely indignant, and +poor little Mamma Nutcracker would shed tears, and beg her darling to be +a little more reasonable; but the young gentleman seemed always to +consider himself as the injured party. + +Now nobody could tell why or wherefore Master Featherhead looked upon +himself as injured or aggrieved, since he was living in a good hole, with +plenty to eat, and without the least care or labour of his own; but he +seemed rather to value himself upon being gloomy and dissatisfied. While +his parents and brothers and sisters were cheerfully racing up and down +the branches, busy in their domestic toils, and laying up stores for the +winter, Featherhead sat gloomily apart, declaring himself weary of +existence, and feeling himself at liberty to quarrel with everybody and +everything about him. Nobody understood him, he said;—he was a squirrel +of a peculiar nature, and needed peculiar treatment, and nobody treated +him in a way that did not grate on the finer nerves of his feelings. He +had higher notions of existence than could be bounded by that old rotten +hole in a hollow tree; he had thoughts that soared far above the +miserable, petty details of every-day life, and he could not and would +not bring down these soaring aspirations to the contemptible toil of +laying up a few chestnuts or hickory-nuts for winter. + +“Depend upon it, my dear,” said Mrs. Nutcracker solemnly, “that fellow +must be a genius.” + +“Fiddlestick on his genius!” said old Mr. Nutcracker; “what does he +_do_?” + +“Oh, nothing, of course; that’s one of the first marks of genius. +Geniuses, you know, never can come down to common life.” + +“He eats enough for any two,” remarked old Nutcracker, “and he never +helps to gather nuts.” + +“My dear, ask Parson Too-whit. He has conversed with him, and quite +agrees with me that he says very uncommon things for a squirrel of his +age; he has such fine feelings,—so much above those of the common crowd.” + +“Fine feelings be hanged!” said old Nutcracker. “When a fellow eats all +the nuts that his mother gives him, and then grumbles at her, I don’t +believe much in his fine feelings. Why don’t he set himself about +something? I’m going to tell my fine young gentleman that, if he doesn’t +behave himself, I’ll tumble him out of the nest, neck and crop, and see +if hunger won’t do something towards bringing down his fine airs.” + +But then Mrs. Nutcracker fell on her husband’s neck with both paws, and +wept, and besought him so piteously to have patience with her darling, +that old Nutcracker, who was himself a soft-hearted old squirrel, was +prevailed upon to put up with the airs and graces of his young scapegrace +a little longer; and secretly in his silly old heart he revolved the +question whether possibly it might not be that a great genius was +actually to come of his household. + +The Nutcrackers belonged to the old-established race of the Grays, but +they were sociable, friendly people, and kept on the best of terms with +all branches of the Nutcracker family. The Chipmunks of Chipmunk Hollow +were a very lively, cheerful, sociable race, and on the very best of +terms with the Nutcracker Grays. Young Tip Chipmunk, the oldest son, was +in all respects a perfect contrast to Master Featherhead. He was always +lively and cheerful, and so very alert in providing for the family, that +old Mr. and Mrs. Chipmunk had very little care, but could sit sociably at +the door of their hole and chat with neighbours, quite sure that Tip +would bring everything out right for them, and have plenty laid up for +winter. + +Now Featherhead took it upon him, for some reason or other, to look down +upon Tip Chipmunk, and on every occasion to disparage him in the social +circle, as a very common kind of squirrel, with whom it would be best not +to associate too freely. + +“My dear,” said Mrs. Nutcracker one day, when he was expressing these +ideas, “it seems to me that you are too hard on poor Tip; he is a most +excellent son and brother, and I wish you would be civil to him.” + +“Oh, I don’t doubt that Tip is _good_ enough,” said Featherhead +carelessly; “but then he is so very common! he hasn’t an idea in his +skull above his nuts and his hole. He is good-natured enough, to be +sure,—these very ordinary people often are good-natured,—but he wants +manner; he has really no manner at all; and as to the deeper feelings, +Tip hasn’t the remotest idea of them. I mean always to be civil to Tip +when he comes in my way, but I think the less we see of that sort of +people the better; and I hope, mother, you won’t invite the Chipmunks at +Christmas,—these family dinners are such a bore!” + +“But, my dear, your father thinks a great deal of the Chipmunks; and it +is an old family custom to have all the relatives here at Christmas.” + +“And an awful bore it is! Why must people of refinement and elevation be +forever tied down because of some distant relationship? Now there are +our cousins the High-Flyers,—if we could get them, there would be some +sense in it. Young Whisk rather promised me for Christmas; but it’s +seldom now you can get a flying squirrel to show himself in our parts, +and if we are intimate with the Chipmunks it isn’t to be expected.” + +“Confound him for a puppy!” said old Nutcracker, when his wife repeated +these sayings to him. “Featherhead is a fool. Common, forsooth! I wish +good, industrious, painstaking sons like Tip Chipmunk _were_ common. For +my part, I find these uncommon people the most tiresome. They are not +content with letting us carry the whole load, but they sit on it, and +scold at us while we carry them.” + +But old Mr. Nutcracker, like many other good old gentlemen squirrels, +found that Christmas dinners and other things were apt to go as his wife +said, and his wife was apt to go as young Featherhead said; and so, when +Christmas came, the Chipmunks were not invited, for the first time in +many years. The Chipmunks, however, took all pleasantly, and accepted +poor old Mrs. Nutcracker’s awkward apologies with the best possible +grace; and young Tip looked in on Christmas morning with the compliments +of the season and a few beech-nuts, which he had secured as a great +dainty. The fact was, that Tip’s little striped fur coat was so filled +up and overflowing with cheerful good-will to all, that he never could be +made to understand that any of his relations could want to cut him; and +therefore Featherhead looked down on him with contempt, and said he had +no tact, and couldn’t see when he was not wanted. + +It was wonderful to see how, by means of persisting in remarks like +these, young Featherhead at last got all his family to look up to him as +something uncommon. Though he added nothing to the family, and required +more to be done for him than all the others put together,—though he +showed not the smallest real perseverance or ability in anything +useful,—yet somehow all his brothers and sisters, and his poor foolish +old mother, got into a way of regarding him as something wonderful, and +delighting in his sharp sayings as if they had been the wisest things in +the world. + +But at last old papa declared that it was time for Featherhead to settle +himself to some business in life, roundly declaring that he could not +always have him as a hanger-on in the paternal hole. + +“What are you going to do, my boy?” said Tip Chipmunk to him one day. +“We are driving now a thriving trade in hickory-nuts, and if you would +like to join us—” + +“Thank you,” said Featherhead; “but I confess I have no fancy for +anything so slow as the hickory trade; I never was made to grub and delve +in that way.” + +The fact was that Featherhead had lately been forming alliances such as +no reputable squirrel should even think of. He had more than once been +seen going out evenings with the Rats of Rat Hollow,—a race whose +reputation for honesty was more than doubtful. The fact was, further, +that old Longtooth Rat, an old sharper and money-lender, had long had his +eye on Featherhead as just about silly enough for their +purposes,—engaging him in what he called a speculation, but which was +neither more nor less than downright stealing. + +Near by the chestnut-tree where Nutcracker Lodge was situated was a large +barn filled with corn and grain, besides many bushels of hazel-nuts, +chestnuts, and walnuts. Now old Longtooth proposed to young Featherhead +that he should nibble a passage into this loft, and there establish +himself in the commission business, passing the nuts and corn to him as +he wanted them. Old Longtooth knew what he was about in the proposal, +for he had heard talk of a brisk Scotch terrier that was about to be +bought to keep the rats from the grain; but you may be sure he kept his +knowledge to himself, so that Featherhead was none the wiser for it. + +“The nonsense of fellows like Tip Chipmunk!” said Featherhead to his +admiring brothers and sisters—“the perfectly stupid nonsense! There he +goes, delving and poking, picking up a nut here and a grain there, when +_I_ step into property at once.” + +“But I hope, my son, you are careful to be honest in your dealings,” said +old Nutcracker, who was a very moral squirrel. + +With that, young Featherhead threw his tail saucily over one shoulder, +winked knowingly at his brothers, and said, “Certainly, sir! If honesty +consists in getting what you can while it is going, I mean to be honest.” + +Very soon Featherhead appeared to his admiring companions in the height +of prosperity. He had a splendid hole in the midst of a heap of +chestnuts, and he literally seemed to be rolling in wealth; he never came +home without showering lavish gifts on his mother and sisters; he wore +his tail over his back with a buckish air, and patronized Tip Chipmunk +with a gracious nod whenever he met him, and thought that the world was +going well with him. + +But one luckless day, as Featherhead was lolling in his hole, up came two +boys with the friskiest, wiriest Scotch terrier you ever saw. His eyes +blazed like torches, and poor Featherhead’s heart died within him as he +heard the boys say, “Now we’ll see if we can’t catch the rascal that eats +our grain.” + + [Picture: Enemies in waiting] + +Featherhead tried to slink out at the hole he had gnawed to come in by, +but found it stopped. + +“Oh, you are there, are you, mister?” said the boy. “Well, you don’t get +out; and now for a chase!” + +And, sure enough, poor Featherhead ran distracted with terror up and +down, through the bundles of hay, between barrels, and over casks, but +with the barking terrier ever at his heels, and the boys running, +shouting, and cheering his pursuer on. He was glad at last to escape +through a crack, though he left half of his fine brush behind him; for +Master Wasp the terrier made a snap at it just as he was going, and +cleaned all the hair off of it, so that it was bare as a rat’s tail. + +Poor Featherhead limped off, bruised and beaten and bedraggled, with the +boys and dog still after him; and they would have caught him, after all, +if Tip Chipmunk’s hole had not stood hospitably open to receive him. Tip +took him in, like a good-natured fellow as he was, and took the best of +care of him; but the glory of Featherhead’s tail had departed for ever. +He had sprained his left paw, and got a chronic rheumatism, and the +fright and fatigue which he had gone through had broken up his +constitution, so that he never again could be what he had been; but, Tip +gave him a situation as under-clerk in his establishment, and from that +time he was a sadder and a wiser squirrel than he ever had been before. + + + + +_THE HISTORY OF TIP-TOP_. + + +UNDER the window of a certain pretty little cottage there grew a great +old apple-tree, which in the spring had thousands and thousands of lovely +pink blossoms on it, and in the autumn had about half as many bright red +apples as it had blossoms in the spring. + +The nursery of this cottage was a little bower of a room, papered with +mossy-green paper, and curtained with white muslin; and here five little +children used to come, in their white nightgowns, to be dressed and have +their hair brushed and curled every morning. + +First, there were Alice and Mary, bright-eyed, laughing little girls, of +seven and eight years; and then came stout little Jamie, and Charlie; and +finally little Puss, whose real name was Ellen, but who was called Puss, +and Pussy, and Birdie, and Toddlie, and any other pet name that came to +mind. + +Now it used to happen, every morning, that the five little heads would be +peeping out of the window, together, into the flowery boughs of the +apple-tree; and the reason was this. A pair of robins had built a very +pretty, smooth-lined nest in a fork of the limb that came directly under +the window, and the building of this nest had been superintended, day by +day, by the five pairs of bright eyes of these five children. The robins +at first had been rather shy of this inspection; but as they got better +acquainted, they seemed to think no more of the little curly heads in the +window than of the pink blossoms about them, or the daisies and +buttercups at the foot of the tree. + +All the little hands were forward to help; some threw out flossy bits of +cotton,—for which, we grieve to say, Charlie had cut a hole in the crib +quilt,—and some threw out bits of thread and yarn, and Allie ravelled out +a considerable piece from one of her garters, which she threw out as a +contribution; and they exulted in seeing the skill with which the little +builders wove everything in. “Little birds, little birds,” they would +say, “you shall be kept warm, for we have given you cotton out of our +crib quilt, and yarn out of our stockings.” Nay, so far did this +generosity proceed, that Charlie cut a flossy, golden curl from Toddlie’s +head and threw it out; and when the birds caught it up the whole flock +laughed to see Toddlie’s golden hair figuring in a bird’s-nest. + +When the little thing was finished, it was so neat, and trim, and +workman-like, that the children all exulted over it, and called it “our +nest,” and the two robins they called “our birds.” But wonderful was the +joy when the little eyes, opening one morning, saw in the nest a +beautiful pale-green egg; and the joy grew from day to day, for every day +there came another egg, and so on till there were five little eggs; and +then the oldest girl, Alice, said, “There are five eggs: that makes one +for each of us, and each of us will have a little bird by-and-by;”—at +which all the children laughed and jumped for glee. + +When the five little eggs were all laid, the mother-bird began to sit on +them; and at any time of day or night, when a little head peeped out of +the nursery window, might be seen a round, bright, patient pair of bird’s +eyes contentedly waiting for the young birds to come. It seemed a long +time for the children to wait; but every day they put some bread and cake +from their luncheon on the window-sill, so that the birds might have +something to eat; but still there she was, patiently sitting! + + [Picture: The Nest in the Apple-Tree] + +“How long, long, long she waits!” said Jamie impatiently. “I don’t +believe she’s ever going to hatch.” + +“Oh, yes she is!” said grave little Alice. “Jamie, you don’t understand +about these things; it takes a long, long time to hatch eggs. Old Sam +says his hens sit three weeks;—only think, almost a month!” + +Three weeks looked a long time to the five bright pairs of little +watching eyes; but Jamie said the eggs were so much smaller than hens’ +eggs that it wouldn’t take so long to hatch them, he knew. Jamie always +thought he knew all about everything, and was so sure of it that he +rather took the lead among the children. But one morning, when they +pushed their five heads out of the window, the round, patient little +bird-eyes were gone, and there seemed to be nothing in the nest but a +bunch of something hairy. + +Upon this they all cried out, “O mamma, _do_ come here! the bird is gone +and left her nest?” And when they cried out, they saw five wide little +red mouths open in the nest, and saw that the hairy bunch of stuff was +indeed the first of five little birds. + +“They are dreadful-looking things,” said Mary; “I didn’t know that little +birds began by looking so badly.” + +“They seem to be all mouth,” said Jamie. + +“We must feed them,” said Charlie.—“Here, little birds, here’s some +gingerbread for you,” he said; and he threw a bit of his gingerbread, +which fortunately only hit the nest on the outside, and fell down among +the buttercups, where two crickets made a meal of it, and agreed that it +was as excellent gingerbread as if old Mother Cricket herself had made +it. + +“Take care, Charlie,” said his mamma; “we do not know enough to feed +young birds. We must leave that to their papa and mamma, who probably +started out bright and early in the morning to get breakfast for them.” + +Sure enough, while they were speaking, back came Mr. and Mrs. Robin, +whirring through the green shadows of the apple tree; and thereupon all +the five little red mouths flew open, and the birds put something into +each. + +It was great amusement, after this, to watch the daily feeding of the +little birds, and to observe how, when not feeding them, the mother sat +brooding on the nest, warming them under her soft wings, while the +father-bird sat on the topmost bough of the apple-tree and sang to them. +In time they grew and grew, and, instead of a nest full of little red +mouths, there was a nest full of little, fat, speckled robins, with +round, bright, cunning eyes, just like their parents; and the children +began to talk together about their birds. + +“I’m going to give my robin a name,” said Mary. “I call him Brown-Eyes.” + +“And I call mine Tip-Top,” said Jamie, “because I know he’ll be a tip-top +bird.” + +“And I call mine Singer,” said Alice. + +“I ’all mine Toddy,” said little Toddlie, who would not be behindhand in +anything that was going on. + +“Hurrah for Toddlie!” said Charlie; “hers is the best of all. For my +part, I call mine Speckle.” + +So then the birds were all made separate characters by having each a +separate name given it. + +Brown-Eyes, Tip-Top, Singer, Toddy, and Speckle made, as they grew +bigger, a very crowded nestful of birds. + +Now the children had early been taught to say in a little hymn:— + + “Birds in their little nests agree; + And ’tis a shameful sight + When children of one family + Fall out, and chide, and fight;”— + +and they thought anything really written and printed in a hymn must be +true; therefore they were very much astonished to see, from day to day, +that _their_ little birds in their nest did _not_ agree. + +Tip-Top was the biggest and strongest bird, and he was always shuffling +and crowding the others, and clamouring for the most food; and when Mrs. +Robin came in with a nice bit of anything, Tip-Top’s red mouth opened so +wide, and he was so noisy, that one would think the nest was all his. +His mother used to correct him for these gluttonous ways, and sometimes +made him wait till all the rest were helped before she gave him a +mouthful; but he generally revenged himself in her absence by crowding +the others and making the nest generally uncomfortable. Speckle, +however, was a bird of spirit, and he used to peck at Tip-Top; so they +would sometimes have a regular sparring-match across poor Brown-Eyes, who +was a meek, tender little fellow, and would sit winking and blinking in +fear while his big brothers quarrelled. As to Toddy and Singer, they +turned out to be sister birds, and showed quite a feminine talent for +chattering; they used to scold their badly behaving brothers in a way +that made the nest quite lively. + +On the whole Mr. and Mrs. Robin did not find their family circle the +peaceable place the poet represents. + +“I say,” said Tip-Top one day to them, “this old nest is a dull, mean, +crowded hole, and it’s quite time some of us were out of it. Just give +us lessons in flying, won’t you? and let us go.” + +“My dear boy,” said Mother Robin, “we shall teach you to fly as soon as +your wings are strong enough.” + +“You are a very little bird,” said his father, “and ought to be good and +obedient, and wait patiently till your wing-feathers grow; and then you +can soar away to some purpose.” + +“Wait for my wing-feathers? Humbug!” Tip-Top would say, as he sat +balancing with his little short tail on the edge of the nest, and looking +down through the grass and clover-heads below, and up into the blue +clouds above. “Father and mother are slow old birds; they keep a fellow +back with their confounded notions. If they don’t hurry up, I’ll take +matters into my own claws, and be off some day before they know it. Look +at those swallows, skimming and diving through the blue air! That’s the +way I want to do.” + +“But, dear brother, the way to learn to do that is to be good and +obedient while we are little, and wait till our parents think it best for +us to begin.” + +“Shut up your preaching,” said Tip-Top; “what do you girls know of +flying?” + +“About as much as you,” said Speckle. “However, I’m sure I don’t care +how soon you take yourself off, for you take up more room than all the +rest put together.” + +“You mind yourself, Master Speckle, or you’ll get something you don’t +like,” said Tip-Top, still strutting in a very cavalier way on the edge +of the nest, and sticking up his little short tail quite valiantly. + +“O my darlings,” said their mamma, now fluttering home, “cannot I ever +teach you to live in love?” + +“It’s all Tip-Top’s fault,” screamed the other birds in a flutter. + +“My fault? Of course, everything in this nest that goes wrong is laid to +me,” said Tip-Top; “and I’ll leave it to anybody, now, if I crowd +anybody. I’ve been sitting outside, on the very edge of the nest, and +there’s Speckle has got my place.” + +“Who wants your place?” said Speckle. “I’m sure you can come in, if you +please.” + +“My dear boy,” said the mother, “do go into the nest and be a good little +bird, and then you will be happy.” + +“That’s always the talk,” said Tip-Top. “I’m too big for the nest, and I +want to see the world. It’s full of beautiful things, I know. Now +there’s the most lovely creature, with bright eyes, that comes under the +tree every day, and wants me to come down in the grass and play with +her.” + +“My son, my son, beware!” said the frightened mother; “that +lovely-seeming creature is our dreadful enemy, the cat,—a horrid monster, +with teeth and claws.” + +At this, all the little birds shuddered and cuddled deeper in the nest; +only Tip-Top in his heart disbelieved it. “I’m too old a bird,” said he +to himself, “to believe _that_ story; mother is chaffing me. But I’ll +show her that I can take care of myself.” + +So the next morning, after the father and mother were gone, Tip-Top got +on the edge of the nest again, and looked over and saw lovely Miss Pussy +washing her face among the daisies under the tree, and her hair was sleek +and white as the daisies, and her eyes were yellow and beautiful to +behold, and she looked up to the tree bewitchingly, and said, “Little +birds, little birds, come down; Pussy wants to play with you.” + +“Only look at her!” said Tip-Top; “her eyes are like gold.” + +“No, don’t look,” said Singer and Speckle. “She will bewitch you, and +then eat you up.” + +“I’d like to see her try to eat me up,” said Tip-Top, again balancing his +short tail over the nest. “Just as if she would. She’s just the nicest, +most innocent creature going, and only wants us to have fun. We never do +have any fun in this old nest!” + +Then the yellow eyes below shot a bewildering light into Tip-Top’s eyes, +and a voice sounded sweet as silver: “Little birds, little birds, come +down; Pussy wants to play with you.” + +“Her paws are as white as velvet,” said Tip-Top, “and so soft! I don’t +believe she has any claws.” + +“Don’t go, brother, don’t!” screamed both sisters. + +All we know about it is, that a moment after a direful scream was heard +from the nursery window. “O mamma, mamma, do come here! Tip-Top’s +fallen out of the nest, and the cat has got him!” + +Away ran Pussy with foolish little Tip-Top in her mouth, and he squeaked +dolefully when he felt her sharp teeth. Wicked Miss Pussy had no mind to +eat him at once; she meant just as she said, to “play with him.” So she +ran off to a private place among the currant-bushes, while all the little +curly heads were scattered up and down looking for her. + +Did you ever see a cat play with a bird or a mouse? She sets it down, +and seems to go off and leave it; but the moment it makes the first +movement to get away,—pounce! she springs on it, and shakes it in her +mouth; and so she teases and tantalizes it, till she gets ready to kill +and eat it. I can’t say why she does it, except that it is a cat’s +nature; and it is a very bad nature for foolish young robins to get +acquainted with. + +“Oh, where is he? where is he? Do find my poor Tip-Top,” said Jamie, +crying as loud as he could scream. “I’ll kill that horrid cat,—I’ll kill +her!” + + [Picture: Tip-Top in bad Company] + +Mr. and Mrs. Robin, who had come home meantime, joined their plaintive +chirping to the general confusion; and Mrs. Robin’s bright eyes soon +discovered her poor little son, where Pussy was patting and rolling him +from one paw to the other under the currant-bushes; and settling on the +bush above, she called the little folks to the spot by her cries. + +Jamie plunged under the bush, and caught the cat with luckless Tip-Top in +her mouth; and, with one or two good thumps, he obliged her to let him +go. Tip-Top was not dead, but in a sadly draggled and torn state. Some +of his feathers were torn out, and one of his wings was broken, and hung +down in a melancholy way. + +“Oh, what _shall_ we do for him? He will die. Poor Tip-Top!” said the +children. + +“Let’s put him back into the nest, children,” said mamma. “His mother +will know best what to do with him.” + +So a ladder was got, and papa climbed up and put poor Tip-Top safely into +the nest. The cat had shaken all the nonsense well out of him; he was a +dreadfully humbled young robin. + +The time came at last when all the other birds in the nest learned to +fly, and fluttered and flew about everywhere; but poor melancholy Tip-Top +was still confined to the nest with a broken wing. Finally, _as_ it +became evident that it would be long before he could fly, Jamie took him +out of the nest, and made a nice little cage for him, and used to feed +him every day, and he would hop about and seem tolerably contented; but +it was evident that he would be a lame-winged robin all his days. + + [Picture: Feeding the lame Robin] + +Jamie’s mother told him that Tip-Top’s history was an allegory. + +“I don’t know what you mean, mamma,” said Jamie. + +“When something in a bird’s life is like something in a boy’s life, or +when a story is similar in its meaning to reality, we call it an +allegory. Little boys, when they are about half grown up, sometimes do +just as Tip-Top did. They are in a great hurry to get away from home +into the great world; and then temptation comes, with bright eyes and +smooth velvet paws, and promises them fun; and they go to bad places; +they get to smoking, and then to drinking; and, finally, the bad habit +gets them in its teeth and claws, and plays with them as a cat does with +a mouse. They try to reform, just as your robin tried to get away from +the cat; but their bad habits pounce on them and drag them back. And so, +when the time comes that they want to begin life, they are miserable, +broken-down creatures, like your broken-winged robin. + +“So, Jamie, remember, and don’t try to be a man before your time, and let +your parents judge for you while you are young; and never believe in any +soft white Pussy, with golden eyes, that comes and wants to tempt you to +come down and play with her. If a big boy offers to teach you to smoke a +cigar, that is Pussy. If a boy wants you to go into a billiard-saloon, +that is Pussy. If a boy wants you to learn to drink anything with spirit +in it, however sweetened and disguised, remember Pussy is there. And +Pussy’s claws are long, and Pussy’s teeth are strong; and if she gives +you one shake in your youth, you will be like a broken-winged robin all +your days.” + + + + +_MISS KATY-DID AND MISS CRICKET_. + + +MISS KATY-DID sat on the branch of a flowering azalea, in her best suit +of fine green and silver, with wings of point-lace from Mother Nature’s +finest web. + +Miss Katy was in the very highest possible spirits, because her gallant +cousin, Colonel Katy-did, had looked in to make her a morning visit. It +was a fine morning, too, which goes for as much among the Katy-dids as +among men and women. It was, in fact, a morning that Miss Katy thought +must have been made on purpose for her to enjoy herself in. There had +been a patter of rain the night before, which had kept the leaves awake +talking to each other till nearly morning; but by dawn the small winds +had blown brisk little puffs, and whisked the heavens clear and bright +with their tiny wings, as you have seen Susan clear away the cobwebs in +your mamma’s parlour; and so now there were only left a thousand +blinking, burning water-drops, hanging like convex mirrors at the end of +each leaf, and Miss Katy admired herself in each one. + +“Certainly I am a pretty creature,” she said to herself; and when the +gallant colonel said something about being dazzled by her beauty, she +only tossed her head and took it as quite a matter of course. + +“The fact is, my dear colonel,” she said, “I am thinking of giving a +party, and you must help me to make out the lists.” + +“My dear, you make me the happiest of Katy-dids.” + +“Now,” said Miss Katy-did, drawing an azalea-leaf towards her, “let us +see—whom shall we have? The Fireflies, of course; everybody wants them, +they are so brilliant,—a little unsteady, to be sure, but quite in the +higher circles.” + +“Yes, we must have the Fireflies,” echoed the colonel. + +“Well, then, and the Butterflies and the Moths. Now, there’s a trouble. +There’s such an everlasting tribe of those Moths; and if you invite dull +people they’re always sure all to come, every one of them. Still, if you +have the Butterflies, you can’t leave out the Moths.” + +“Old Mrs. Moth has been laid up lately with a gastric fever, and that may +keep two or three of the Misses Moth at home,” said the colonel. + +“Whatever could give the old lady such a turn?” said Miss Katy. “I +thought she never was sick.” + +“I suspect it’s high living. I understand she and her family ate up a +whole ermine cape last month, and it disagreed with them.” + +“For my part, I can’t conceive how the Moths can live as they do,” said +Miss Katy, with a face of disgust. “Why, I could no more eat worsted and +fur, as they do—” + +“That is quite evident from the fairy-like delicacy of your appearance,” +said the colonel. “One can see that nothing so gross or material has +ever entered into your system.” + +“I’m sure,” said Miss Katy, “mamma says she don’t know what does keep me +alive; half a dewdrop and a little bit of the nicest part of a rose-leaf, +I assure you, often last me for a day. But we are forgetting our list. +Let’s see—the Fireflies, Butterflies, Moths. The Bees must come, I +suppose.” + +“The Bees are a worthy family,” said the colonel. + +“Worthy enough, but dreadfully humdrum,” said Miss Katy. “They never +talk about anything but honey and housekeeping; still, they are a class +of people one cannot neglect.” + +“Well, then, there are the Bumble-Bees.” + +“Oh, I dote on them! General Bumble is one of the most dashing, +brilliant fellows of the day.” + +“I think he is shockingly corpulent,” said Colonel Katy-did, not at all +pleased to hear him praised; “don’t you?” + +“I don’t know but he _is_ a little stout,” said Miss Katy; “but so +distinguished and elegant in his manners—something quite martial and +breezy about him.” + +“Well, if you invite the Bumble-Bees, you must have the Hornets.” + +“Those spiteful Hornets! I detest them!” + +“Nevertheless, dear Miss Katy, one does not like to offend the Hornets.” + +“No, one can’t. There are those five Misses Hornet—dreadful old +maids!—as full of spite as they can live. You may be sure they will +every one come, and be looking about to make spiteful remarks. Put down +the Hornets, though.” + +“How about the Mosquitoes!” said the colonel. + +“Those horrid Mosquitoes—they are dreadfully plebeian! Can’t one cut +them?” + +“Well dear Miss Katy,” said the colonel, “if you ask my candid opinion as +a friend, I should say not. There’s young Mosquito, who graduated last +year, has gone into literature, and is connected with some of our leading +papers, and they say he carries the sharpest pen of all the writers. It +won’t do to offend him.” + +“And so I suppose we must have his old aunts, and all six of his sisters, +and all his dreadfully common relations.” + +“It is a pity,” said the colonel; “but one must pay one’s tax to +society.” + +Just at this moment the conference was interrupted by a visitor, Miss +Keziah Cricket, who came in with her work-bag on her arm to ask a +subscription for a poor family of Ants who had just had their house hoed +up in clearing the garden-walks. + +“How stupid of them,” said Katy, “not to know better than to put their +house in the garden-walk; that’s just like those Ants.” + +“Well, they are in great trouble; all their stores destroyed, and their +father killed—cut quite in two by a hoe.” + +“How very shocking! I don’t like to hear of such disagreeable things; it +affects my nerves terribly. Well, I’m sure I haven’t anything to give. +Mamma said yesterday she was sure she didn’t know how our bills were to +be paid; and there’s my green satin with point-lace yet to come home.” +And Miss Katy-did shrugged her shoulders and affected to be very busy +with Colonel Katy-did, in just the way that young ladies sometimes do +when they wish to signify to visitors that they had better leave. + +Little Miss Cricket perceived how the case stood, and so hopped briskly +off, without giving herself even time to be offended. “Poor extravagant +little thing!” said she to herself, “it was hardly worth while to ask +her.” + +“Pray, shall you invite the Crickets?” said Colonel Katy-did. + +“Who? I? Why, colonel, what a question! Invite the Crickets? Of what +can you be thinking?” + +“And shall you not ask the Locusts, and the Grasshoppers?” + +“Certainly. The Locusts, of course,—a very old and distinguished family; +and the Grasshoppers are pretty well, and ought to be asked. But we must +draw a line somewhere,—and the Crickets! why, it’s shocking even to think +of!” + +“I thought they were nice, respectable people.” + +“Oh, perfectly nice and respectable,—very good people, in fact, so far as +that goes. But then you must see the difficulty.” + +“My dear cousin, I am afraid you must explain.” + +“Why, their _colour_, to be sure. Don’t you see?” + +“Oh!” said the colonel. “That’s it, is it? Excuse me, but I have been +living in France, where these distinctions are wholly unknown, and I have +not yet got myself in the train of fashionable ideas here.” + +“Well, then, let me teach you,” said Miss Katy. “You know we republicans +go for no distinctions except those created by Nature herself, and we +found our rank upon _colour_, because that is clearly a thing that none +has any hand in but our Maker. You see?” + +“Yes; but who decides what colour shall be the reigning colour?” + +“I’m surprised to hear the question! The only true colour—the only +proper one—is _our_ colour, to be sure. A lovely pea-green is the +precise shade on which to found aristocratic distinction. But then we +are liberal;—we associate with the Moths, who are gray; with the +Butterflies, who are blue-and-gold coloured; with the Grasshoppers, +yellow and brown; and society would become dreadfully mixed if it were +not fortunately ordered that the Crickets are black as jet. The fact is, +that a class to be looked down upon is necessary to all elegant society; +and if the Crickets were not black, we could not keep them down, because, +as everybody knows, they are often a great deal cleverer than we are. +They have a vast talent for music and dancing; they are very quick at +learning, and would be getting to the very top of the ladder if we once +allowed them to climb. But their being black is a convenience; because, +as long as we are green and they black, we have a superiority that can +never be taken from us. Don’t you see now?” + +“Oh yes, I see exactly,” said the colonel. + +“Now that Keziah Cricket, who just came in here, is quite a musician, and +her old father plays the violin beautifully;—by the way, we might engage +him for our orchestra.” + + * * * * * + +And so Miss Katy’s ball came off, and the performers kept it up from +sundown till daybreak, so that it seemed as if every leaf in the forest +were alive. The Katy-dids and the Mosquitoes, and the Locusts, and a +full orchestra of Crickets made the air perfectly vibrate, insomuch that +old Parson Too-Whit, who was preaching a Thursday evening lecture to a +very small audience, announced to his hearers that he should certainly +write a discourse against dancing for the next weekly occasion. + +The good doctor was even with his word in the matter, and gave out some +very sonorous discourses, without in the least stopping the round of +gaieties kept up by these dissipated Katy-dids, which ran on, night after +night, till the celebrated Jack Frost epidemic, which occurred somewhere +about the first of September. + +Poor Miss Katy, with her flimsy green satin and point-lace, was one of +the first victims, and fell from the bough in company with a sad shower +of last year’s leaves. The worthy Cricket family, however, avoided Jack +Frost by emigrating in time to the chimney-corner of a nice little +cottage that had been built in the wood that summer. + +There good old Mr. and Mrs. Cricket, with sprightly Miss Keziah and her +brothers and sisters, found a warm and welcome home; and when the storm +howled without, and lashed the poor naked trees, the Crickets on the warm +hearth would chirp out cheery welcome to papa as he came in from the +snowy path, or mamma as she sat at her work-basket. + +“Cheep, cheep, cheep!” little Freddy would say. “Mamma, who is it says +‘cheep’?” + +“Dear Freddy, it’s our own dear little cricket, who loves us and comes to +sing to us when the snow is on the ground.” + +So when poor Miss Katy-did’s satin and lace were all swept away, the warm +home-talents of the Crickets made for them a welcome refuge. + + + + +_MOTHER MAGPIE’S MISCHIEF_. + + +OLD Mother Magpie was about the busiest character in the forest. But you +must know that there is a great difference between being busy and being +industrious. One may be very busy all the time, and yet not in the least +industrious; and this was the case with Mother Magpie. + +She was always full of everybody’s business but her own—up and down, here +and there, everywhere but in her own nest, knowing everyone’s affairs, +telling what everybody had been doing or ought to do, and ready to cast +her advice _gratis_ at every bird and beast of the woods. + +Now she bustled up to the parsonage at the top of the oak-tree, to tell +old Parson Too-Whit what she thought he ought to preach for his next +sermon, and how dreadful the morals of the parish were becoming. Then, +having perfectly bewildered the poor old gentleman, who was always sleepy +of a Monday morning, Mother Magpie would take a peep into Mrs. Oriole’s +nest, sit chattering on a bough above, and pour forth floods of advice, +which, poor little Mrs. Oriole used to say to her husband, bewildered her +more than a hard north-east storm. + +“Depend upon it, my dear,” Mother Magpie would say, “that this way of +building your nest, swinging like an old empty stocking from a bough, +isn’t at all the thing. I never built one so in my life, and I never +have headaches. Now you complain always that your head aches whenever I +call upon you. It’s all on account of this way of swinging and swaying +about in such an absurd manner.” + +“But, my dear,” piped Mrs. Oriole timidly, “the Orioles always have built +in this manner, and it suits our constitution.” + +“A fiddle on your constitution! How can you tell what agrees with your +constitution unless you try? You own you are not well; you are subject +to headaches; and every physician will tell you that a tilting motion +disorders the stomach and acts upon the brain. Ask old Dr. Kite. I was +talking with him about your case only yesterday, and says he, ‘Mrs. +Magpie, I perfectly agree with you.’” + +“But my husband prefers this style of building.” + +“That’s only because he isn’t properly instructed. Pray, did you ever +attend Dr. Kite’s lectures on the nervous system?” + +“No, I have no time to attend lectures. Who would sit on the eggs?” + +“Why, your husband, to be sure; don’t he take his turn in sitting? If he +don’t, he ought to. I shall speak to him about it. My husband always +sits regularly half the time, that I may have time to go about and +exercise.” + +“O Mrs. Magpie, pray don’t speak to my husband; he will think I’ve been +complaining.” + +“No, no, he won’t. Let me alone. I understand just how to say the +thing. I’ve advised hundreds of young husbands in my day, and I never +gave offence.” + +“But I tell you, Mrs. Magpie, I don’t want any interference between my +husband and me, and I will not have it,” says Mrs. Oriole, with her +little round eyes flashing with indignation. + +“Don’t put yourself in a passion, my dear; the more you talk, the more +sure I am that your nervous system is running down, or you wouldn’t +forget good manners in this way. You’d better take my advice, for I +understand just what to do,”—and away sails Mother Magpie; and presently +young Oriole comes home all in a flutter. + +“I say, my dear, if you will persist in gossiping over our private family +matters with that old Mother Magpie—” + +“My dear, I don’t gossip. She comes and bores me to death with talking, +and then goes off and mistakes what she has been saying for what I said.” + +“But you must _cut_ her.” + +“I try to, all I can; but she won’t _be_ cut.” + +“It’s enough to make a bird swear,” said Tommy Oriole. + +Tommy Oriole, to say the truth, had as good a heart as ever beat under +bird’s feathers; but then he had a weakness for concerts and general +society, because he was held to be, by all odds, the handsomest bird in +the woods, and sung like an angel; and so the truth was he didn’t confine +himself so much to the domestic nest as Tom Titmouse or Billy Wren. But +he determined that he wouldn’t have old Mother Magpie interfering with +his affairs. + +“The fact is,” quoth Tommy, “I am a society bird, and Nature has marked +out for me a course beyond the range of the commonplace, and my wife must +learn to accommodate. If she has a brilliant husband, whose success +gratifies her ambition and places her in a distinguished public position, +she must pay something for it. I’m sure Billy Wren’s wife would give her +very bill to see her husband in the circles where I am quite at home. To +say the truth, my wife was all well enough content till old Mother Magpie +interfered. It is quite my duty to take strong ground, and show that I +cannot be dictated to.” + +So, after this, Tommy Oriole went to rather more concerts, and spent less +time at home than ever he did before, which was all that Mother Magpie +effected in that quarter. I confess this was very bad in Tommy; but then +birds are no better than men in domestic matters, and sometimes will take +the most unreasonable courses, if a meddlesome Magpie gets her claw into +their nest. + +But old Mother Magpie had now got a new business in hand in another +quarter. She bustled off down to Water-Dock Lane, where, as we said in a +former narrative, lived the old music-teacher, Dr. Bullfrog. The poor +old doctor was a simple-minded, good, amiable creature, who had played +the double-bass and led the forest choir on all public occasions since +nobody knows when. Latterly some youngsters had arisen who sneered at +his performances as behind the age. In fact, since a great city had +grown up in the vicinity of the forest, tribes of wandering boys broke up +the simple tastes and quiet habits which old Mother Nature had always +kept up in those parts. They pulled the young checkerberry before it +even had time to blossom, rooted up the sassafras shrubs and gnawed their +roots, fired off guns at the birds, and on several occasions, when old +Dr. Bullfrog was leading a concert, had dashed in and broken up the choir +by throwing stones. + +This was not the worst of it. The little varlets had a way of jeering at +the simple old doctor and his concerts, and mimicking the tones of his +bass-viol. “There you go, Paddy-go-donk, Paddy-go-donk—umph—chunk,” some +rascal of a boy would shout, while poor old Bullfrog’s yellow spectacles +would be bedewed with tears of honest indignation. In time, the jeers of +these little savages began to tell on the society in the forest, and to +corrupt their simple manners; and it was whispered among the younger and +more heavy birds and squirrels that old Bullfrog was a bore, and that it +was time to get up a new style of music in the parish, and to give the +charge of it to some more modern performer. + +Poor old Dr. Bullfrog knew nothing of this, however, and was doing his +simple best, in peace, when Mother Magpie called in upon him one morning. + +“Well, neighbour, how unreasonable people are! Who would have thought +that the youth of our generation should have no more consideration for +established merit? Now, for my part, _I_ think your music-teaching never +was better; and as for our choir, I maintain constantly that it never was +in better order, but—Well, one may wear her tongue out, but one can never +make these young folks listen to reason.” + +“I really don’t understand you, ma’am,” said poor Dr. Bullfrog. + +“What! you haven’t heard of a committee that is going to call on you, to +ask you to resign the care of the parish music?” + +“Madam,” said Dr. Bullfrog, with all that energy of tone for which he was +remarkable, “I don’t believe it,—I _can’t_ believe it. You must have +made a mistake.” + +“I mistake! No, no, my good friend; I never make mistakes. What I know, +I know certainly. Wasn’t it I that said I knew there was an engagement +between Tim Chipmunk and Nancy Nibble, who are married this very day? I +knew that thing six weeks before any bird or beast in our parts; and I +can tell you, you are going to be scandalously and ungratefully treated, +Dr. Bullfrog.” + +“Bless me, we shall all be ruined!” said Mrs. Bullfrog; “my poor +husband—” + +“Oh, as to that, if you take things in time, and listen to my advice,” +said Mother Magpie, “we may yet pull you through. You must alter your +style a little,—adapt it to modern times. Everybody now is a little +touched with the operatic fever, and there’s Tommy Oriole has been to New +Orleans and brought back a touch of the artistic. If you would try his +style a little,—something Tyrolean, you see.” + +“Dear madam, consider my voice. I never could hit the high notes.” + +“How do you know? It’s all practice; Tommy Oriole says so. Just try the +scales. As to your voice, your manner of living has a great deal to do +with it. I always did tell you that your passion for water injured your +singing. Suppose Tommy Oriole should sit half his days up to his hips in +water, as you do,—his voice would be as hoarse and rough as yours. Come +up on the bank and learn to perch, as we birds do. We are the true +musical race.” + +And so poor Mr. Bullfrog was persuaded to forego his pleasant little +cottage under the cat-tails, where his green spectacles and honest round +back had excited, even in the minds of the boys, sentiments of respect +and compassion. He came up into the garden, and established himself +under a burdock, and began to practise Italian scales. + +The result was, that poor old Dr. Bullfrog, instead of being considered +as a respectable old bore, got himself universally laughed at for aping +fashionable manners. Every bird and beast in the forest had a gibe at +him; and even old Parson Too-Whit thought it worth his while to make him +a pastoral call, and admonish him about courses unbefitting his age and +standing. As to Mother Magpie, you may be sure that she assured every +one how sorry she was that dear old Dr. Bullfrog had made such a fool of +himself; if he had taken her advice, he would have kept on respectably as +a nice old Bullfrog should. + +But the tragedy for the poor old music-teacher grew even more melancholy +in its termination; for one day, as he was sitting disconsolately under a +currant-bush in the garden, practising his poor old notes in a quiet way, +_thump_ came a great blow of a hoe, which nearly broke his back. + +“Hallo! what ugly beast have we got here?” said Tom Noakes, the +gardener’s boy. “Here, here, Wasp, my boy.” + +What a fright for a poor, quiet, old Bullfrog, as little wiry, wicked +Wasp came at him, barking and yelping. He jumped with all his force +sheer over a patch of bushes into the river, and swam back to his old +home among the cat-tails. And always after that it was observable that +he was very low-spirited, and took very dark views of life; but nothing +made him so angry as any allusion to Mother Magpie, of whom, from that +time, he never spoke except as _Old Mother Mischief_. + + + + +_THE SQUIRRELS THAT LIVE IN A HOUSE_. + + +ONCE upon a time a gentleman went out into a great forest, and cut away +the trees, and built there a very nice little cottage. It was set very +low on the ground, and had very large bow-windows, and so much of it was +glass that one could look through it on every side and see what was going +on in the forest. You could see the shadows of the fern-leaves, as they +flickered and wavered over the ground, and the scarlet partridge-berry +and winter-green plums that matted round the roots of the trees, and the +bright spots of sunshine that fell through their branches and went +dancing about among the bushes and leaves at their roots. You could see +the chirping sparrows and the thrushes and robins and bluebirds building +their nests here and there among the branches, and watch them from day to +day as they laid their eggs and hatched their young. You could also see +red squirrels, and gray squirrels, and little striped chip-squirrels, +darting and springing about, here and there and everywhere, running races +with each other from bough to bough, and chattering at each other in the +gayest possible manner. + +You may be sure that such a strange thing as a house for human beings to +live in did not come into this wild wood without making quite a stir and +excitement among the inhabitants that lived there before. All the time +it was building, there was the greatest possible commotion in the breasts +of all the older population; and there wasn’t even a black ant, or a +cricket, that did not have his own opinion about it, and did not tell the +other ants and crickets just what he thought the world was coming to in +consequence. + +Old Mrs. Rabbit declared that the hammering and pounding made her +nervous, and gave her most melancholy forebodings of evil times. “Depend +upon it, children,” she said to her long-eared family, “no good will come +to us from this establishment. Where man is, there comes always trouble +for us poor rabbits.” + +The old chestnut-tree, that grew on the edge of the woodland ravine, drew +a great sigh which shook all his leaves, and expressed it as his +conviction that no good would ever come of it,—a conviction that at once +struck to the heart of every chestnut-burr. The squirrels talked +together of the dreadful state of things that would ensue. “Why!” said +old Father Gray, “it’s evident that Nature made the nuts for us; but one +of these great human creatures will carry off and gormandize upon what +would keep a hundred poor families of squirrels in comfort.” Old +Ground-mole said it did not require very sharp eyes to see into the +future, and it would just end in bringing down the price of real estate +in the whole vicinity, so that every decent-minded and respectable +quadruped would be obliged to move away;—for his part, he was ready to +sell out for anything he could get. The bluebirds and bobolinks, it is +true, took more cheerful views of matters; but then, as old Mrs. +Ground-mole observed, they were a flighty set,—half their time careering +and dissipating in the Southern States,—and could not be expected to have +that patriotic attachment to their native soil that those had who had +grubbed in it from their earliest days. + +“This race of man,” said the old chestnut-tree, “is never ceasing in its +restless warfare on Nature. In our forest solitudes hitherto how +peacefully, how quietly, how regularly has everything gone on! Not a +flower has missed its appointed time of blossoming, or failed to perfect +its fruit. No matter how hard has been the winter, how loud the winds +have roared, and how high the snow-banks have been piled, all has come +right again in spring. Not the least root has lost itself under the +snows, so as not to be ready with its fresh leaves and blossoms when the +sun returns to melt the frosty chains of winter. We have storms +sometimes that threaten to shake everything to pieces,—the thunder roars, +the lightning flashes, and the winds howl and beat; but, when all is +past, everything comes out better and brighter than before,—not a bird is +killed, not the frailest flower destroyed. But man comes, and in one day +he will make a desolation that centuries cannot repair. Ignorant boor +that he is, and all incapable of appreciating the glorious works of +Nature, it seems to be his glory to be able to destroy in a few hours +what it was the work of ages to produce. The noble oak, that has been +cut away to build this contemptible human dwelling, had a life older and +wiser than that of any man in this country. That tree has seen +generations of men come and go. It was a fresh young tree when +Shakespeare was born; it was hardly a middle-aged tree when he died; it +was growing here when the first ship brought the white men to our shores, +and hundreds and hundreds of those whom they call bravest, wisest, +strongest,—warriors, statesmen, orators, and poets,—have been born, have +grown up, lived, and died, while yet it has outlived them all. It has +seen more wisdom than the best of them; but two or three hours of brutal +strength sufficed to lay it low. Which of these dolts could make a tree? +I’d like to see them do anything like it. How noisy and clumsy are all +their movements,—chopping, pounding, rasping, hammering. And, after all, +what do they build? In the forest we do everything so quietly. A tree +would be ashamed of itself that could not get its growth without making +such a noise and dust and fuss. Our life is the perfection of good +manners. For my part, I feel degraded at the mere presence of these +human beings; but, alas! I am old; a hollow place at my heart warns me of +the progress of decay, and probably it will be seized upon by these +rapacious creatures as an excuse for laying me as low as my noble green +brother.” + +In spite of all this disquiet about it, the little cottage grew and was +finished. The walls were covered with pretty paper, the floors carpeted +with pretty carpets; and, in fact, when it was all arranged, and the +garden walks laid out, and beds of flowers planted around, it began to be +confessed, even among the most critical, that it was not after all so bad +a thing as was to have been feared. + +A black ant went in one day and made a tour of exploration up and down, +over chairs and tables, up the ceilings and down again, and, coming out, +wrote an article for the _Crickets’ Gazette_, in which he described the +new abode as a veritable palace. Several butterflies fluttered in and +sailed about and were wonderfully delighted, and then a bumble-bee and +two or three honey-bees, who expressed themselves well pleased with the +house, but more especially enchanted with the garden. In fact, when it +was found that the proprietors were very fond of the rural solitudes of +Nature, and had come out there for the purpose of enjoying them +undisturbed; that they watched and spared the anemones, and the violets, +and bloodroots, and dog’s-tooth violets, and little woolly rolls of fern +that began to grow up under the trees in spring; that they never allowed +a gun to be fired to scare the birds, and watched the building of their +nests with the greatest interest,—then an opinion in favour of human +beings began to gain ground, and every cricket and bird and beast was +loud in their praise. + +“Mamma,” said young Tit-bit, a frisky young squirrel, to his mother one +day, “why won’t you let Frisky and me go into that pretty new cottage to +play?” + +“My dear,” said his mother, who was a very wary and careful old squirrel, +“how can you think of it? The race of man are full of devices for traps +and pitfalls, and who could say what might happen if you put yourself in +their power? If you had wings like the butterflies and bees, you might +fly in and out again, and so gratify your curiosity; but, as matters +stand, it’s best for you to keep well out of their way.” + +“But, mother, there is such a nice, good lady lives there! I believe she +is a good fairy, and she seems to love us all so; she sits in the +bow-window and watches us for hours, and she scatters corn all round at +the roots of the tree for us to eat.” + +“She is nice enough,” said the old mother-squirrel, “if you keep far +enough off; but I tell you, you can’t be too careful.” + +Now this good fairy that the squirrels discoursed about was a nice little +old lady that the children used to call Aunt Esther, and she was a dear +lover of birds and squirrels, and all sorts of animals, and had studied +their little ways till she knew just what would please them; and so she +would every day throw out crumbs for the sparrows, and little bits of +bread and wool and cotton to help the birds that were building their +nests, and would scatter corn and nuts for the squirrels; and while she +sat at her work in the bow-window she would smile to see the birds flying +away with the wool, and the squirrels nibbling their nuts. After a while +the birds grew so tame that they would hop into the bow-window and eat +their crumbs off the carpet. + +“There, mamma,” said Tit-bit and Frisky, “only see Jenny Wren and Cock +Robin have been in at the bow-window, and it didn’t hurt them, and why +can’t we go?” + +“Well, my dears,” said old Mother Squirrel, “you must do it very +carefully; never forget that you haven’t wings like Jenny Wren and Cock +Robin.” + +So the next day Aunt Esther laid a train of corn from the roots of the +trees to the bow-window, and then from the bow-window to her work-basket, +which stood on the floor beside her; and then she put quite a handful of +corn in the work-basket, and sat down by it, and seemed intent on her +sewing. Very soon, creep, creep, creep, came Tit-bit and Frisky to the +window, and then into the room, just as sly and as still as could be, and +Aunt Esther sat just like a statue for fear of disturbing them. They +looked all around in high glee, and when they came to the basket it +seemed to them a wonderful little summer-house, made on purpose for them +to play in. They nosed about in it, and turned over the scissors and the +needle-book, and took a nibble at her white wax, and jostled the spools, +meanwhile stowing away the corn on each side of their little chops, till +they both of them looked as if they had the mumps. + + [Picture: Venturous Squirrels] + +At last Aunt Esther put out her hand to touch them, when, whisk-frisk, +out they went, and up the trees, chattering and laughing before she had +time even to wink. + +But after this they used to come in every day, and when she put corn in +her hand and held it very still they would eat out of it; and finally +they would get into her hand, until one day she gently closed it over +them, and Frisky and Tit-bit were fairly caught. + +Oh, how their hearts beat! but the good fairy only spoke gently to them, +and soon unclosed her hand and let them go again. So day after day they +grew to have more and more faith in her, till they would climb into her +work-basket, sit on her shoulder, or nestle away in her lap as she sat +sewing. They made also long exploring voyages all over the house, up and +through all the chambers, till finally, I grieve to say, poor Frisky came +to an untimely end by being drowned in the water-tank at the top of the +house. + +The dear good fairy passed away from the house in time, and went to a +land where the flowers never fade and the birds never die; but the +squirrels still continue to make the place a favourite resort. + +“In fact, my dear,” said old Mother Red one winter to her mate, “what is +the use of one’s living in this cold, hollow tree, when these amiable +people have erected this pretty cottage, where there is plenty of room +for us and them too? Now I have examined between the eaves, and there is +a charming place where we can store our nuts, and where we can whip in +and out of the garret, and have the free range of the house; and, say +what you will, these humans have delightful ways of being warm and +comfortable in winter.” + +So Mr. and Mrs. Red set up housekeeping in the cottage, and had no end of +nuts and other good things stored up there. The trouble of all this was, +that, as Mrs. Red was a notable body, and got up to begin her +housekeeping operations, and woke up all her children, at four o’clock in +the morning, the good people often were disturbed by a great rattling and +fuss in the walls, while yet it seemed dark night. Then sometimes, too, +I grieve to say, Mrs. Squirrel would give her husband vigorous curtain +lectures in the night, which made him so indignant that he would rattle +off to another quarter of the garret to sleep by himself; and all this +broke the rest of the worthy people who built the house. + +What is to be done about this we don’t know. What would you do about it? +Would you let the squirrels live in your house or not? When our good +people come down of a cold winter morning, and see the squirrels dancing +and frisking down the trees, and chasing each other so merrily over the +garden chair between them, or sitting with their tails saucily over their +backs, they look so jolly and jaunty and pretty that they almost forgive +them for disturbing their night’s rest, and think that they will not do +anything to drive them out of the garret to-day. And so it goes on; but +how long the squirrels will rent the cottage in this fashion, I’m sure I +dare not undertake to say. + + + + +_HUM_, _THE SON OF BUZ_. + + +AT Rye Beach, during our summer’s vacation, there came, as there always +will to seaside visitors, two or three cold, chilly, rainy days,—days +when the skies that long had not rained a drop seemed suddenly to bethink +themselves of their remissness, and to pour down water, not by drops, but +by pailfuls. The chilly wind blew and whistled, the water dashed along +the ground and careered in foamy rills along the roadside, and the bushes +bent beneath the constant flood. It was plain that there was to be no +sea-bathing on such a day, no walks, no rides; and so, shivering and +drawing our blanket-shawls close about us, we sat down at the window to +watch the storm outside. + +The rose-bushes under the window hung dripping under their load of +moisture, each spray shedding a constant shower on the spray below it. +On one of these lower sprays, under the perpetual drip, what should we +see but a poor little humming-bird, drawn up into the tiniest shivering +ball, and clinging with a desperate grasp to his uncomfortable perch. A +humming-bird we knew him to be at once, though his feathers were so +matted and glued down by the rain that he looked not much bigger than a +honey-bee, and as different as possible from the smart, pert, airy little +character that we had so often seen flirting with the flowers. He was +evidently a humming-bird in adversity, and whether he ever would hum +again looked to us exceedingly doubtful. Immediately, however, we sent +out to have him taken in. When the friendly hand seized him, he gave a +little, faint, watery squeak, evidently thinking that his last hour was +come, and that grim death was about to carry him off to the land of dead +birds. What a time we had reviving him,—holding the little wet thing in +the warm hollow of our hands, and feeling him shiver and palpitate! His +eyes were fast closed; his tiny claws, which looked slender as cobwebs, +were knotted close to his body, and it was long before one could feel the +least motion in them. Finally, to our great joy, we felt a brisk little +kick, and then a flutter of wings, and then a determined peck of the +beak, which showed that there was some bird left in him yet, and that he +meant at any rate to find out where he was. + +Unclosing our hands a small space, out popped the little head with a pair +of round brilliant eyes. Then we bethought ourselves of feeding him, and +forthwith prepared him a stiff glass of sugar and water, a drop of which +we held to his bill. After turning his head attentively, like a bird who +knew what he was about and didn’t mean to be chaffed, he briskly put out +a long, flexible tongue, slightly forked at the end, and licked off the +comfortable beverage with great relish. Immediately he was pronounced +out of danger by the small humane society which had undertaken the charge +of his restoration, and we began to cast about for getting him a settled +establishment in our apartment. I gave up my work-box to him for a +sleeping-room, and it was medically ordered that he should take a nap. +So we filled the box with cotton, and he was formally put to bed, with a +folded cambric handkerchief round his neck, to keep him from beating his +wings. Out of his white wrappings he looked forth green and grave as any +judge with his bright round eyes. Like a bird of discretion, he seemed +to understand what was being done to him, and resigned himself sensibly +to go to sleep. + +The box was covered with a sheet of paper perforated with holes for +purposes of ventilation; for even humming-birds have a little pair of +lungs, and need their own little portion of air to fill them, so that +they may make bright scarlet little drops of blood to keep life’s fire +burning in their tiny bodies. Our bird’s lungs manufactured brilliant +blood, as we found out by experience; for in his first nap he contrived +to nestle himself into the cotton of which his bed was made, and to get +more of it than he needed into his long bill. We pulled it out as +carefully as we could, but there came out of his bill two round, bright +scarlet, little drops of blood. Our chief medical authority looked +grave, pronounced a probable hemorrhage from the lungs, and gave him over +at once. We, less scientific, declared that we had only cut his little +tongue by drawing out the filaments of cotton, and that he would do well +enough in time,—as it afterwards appeared he did, for from that day there +was no more bleeding. In the course of the second day he began to take +short flights about the room, though he seemed to prefer to return to us; +perching on our fingers or heads or shoulders, and sometimes choosing to +sit in this way for half an hour at a time. “These great giants,” he +seemed to say to himself, “are not bad people after all; they have a +comfortable way with them; how nicely they dried and warmed me! Truly a +bird might do worse than to live with them.” + +So he made up his mind to form a fourth in the little company of three +that usually sat and read, worked and sketched, in that apartment, and we +christened him “Hum, the son of Buz.” He became an individuality, a +character, whose little doings formed a part of every letter, and some +extracts from these will show what some of his little ways were:— + +“Hum has learned to sit upon my finger, and eat his sugar and water out +of a teaspoon with most Christian-like decorum. He has but one +weakness—he will occasionally jump into the spoon and sit in his sugar +and water, and then appear to wonder where it goes to. His plumage is in +rather a drabbled state, owing to these performances. I have sketched +him as he sat to-day on a bit of Spiræa which I brought in for him. When +absorbed in reflection, he sits with his bill straight up in the air, as +I have drawn him. Mr. A— reads Macaulay to us, and you should see the +wise air with which, perched on Jenny’s thumb, he cocked his head now one +side and then the other, apparently listening with most critical +attention. His confidence in us seems unbounded: he lets us stroke his +head, smooth his feathers, without a flutter; and is never better pleased +than when sitting, as he has been doing all this while, on my hand, +turning up his bill, and watching my face with great edification. + +“I have just been having a sort of maternal struggle to make him go to +bed in his box; but he evidently considers himself sufficiently +convalescent to make a stand for his rights as a bird, and so scratched +indignantly out of his wrappings, and set himself up to roost on the edge +of the box, with an air worthy of a turkey, at the very least. Having +brought in a lamp, he has opened his eyes round and wide, and sits +cocking his little head at me reflectively.” + +When the weather cleared away, and the sun came out bright, Hum became +entirely well, and seemed resolved to take the measure of his new life +with us. Our windows were closed in the lower part of the sash by frames +with mosquito gauze, so that the sun and air found free admission, and +yet our little rover could not pass out. On the first sunny day he took +an exact survey of our apartment from ceiling to floor, humming about, +examining every point with his bill—all the crevices, mouldings, each +little indentation in the bed-posts, each window-pane, each chair and +stand; and, as it was a very simply furnished seaside apartment, his +scrutiny was soon finished. We wondered at first what this was all +about; but on watching him more closely, we found that he was actively +engaged in getting his living, by darting out his long tongue hither and +thither, and drawing in all the tiny flies and insects which in summer +time are to be found in an apartment. In short, we found that, though +the nectar of flowers was his dessert, yet he had his roast beef and +mutton-chop to look after, and that his bright, brilliant blood was not +made out of a simple vegetarian diet. Very shrewd and keen he was, too, +in measuring the size of insects before he attempted to swallow them. +The smallest class were whisked off with lightning speed; but about +larger ones he would sometimes wheel and hum for some minutes, darting +hither and thither, and surveying them warily, and if satisfied that they +could be carried, he would come down with a quick, central dart which +would finish the unfortunate at a snap. The larger flies seemed to +irritate him, especially when they intimated to him that his plumage was +sugary, by settling on his wings and tail; when he would lay about him +spitefully, wielding his bill like a sword. A grasshopper that strayed +in, and was sunning himself on the window-seat, gave him great +discomposure. Hum evidently considered him an intruder, and seemed to +long to make a dive at him; but, with characteristic prudence, confined +himself to threatening movements, which did not exactly hit. He saw +evidently that he could not swallow him whole, and what might ensue from +trying him piecemeal he wisely forbore to essay. + +Hum had his own favourite places and perches. From the first day he +chose for his nightly roost a towel-line which had been drawn across the +corner over the wash-stand, where he every night established himself with +one claw in the edge of the towel and the other clasping the line, and, +ruffling up his feathers till he looked like a little chestnut-burr, he +would resign himself to the soundest sleep. He did not tuck his head +under his wing, but seemed to sink it down between his shoulders, with +his bill almost straight up in the air. One evening one of us, going to +use the towel, jarred the line, and soon after found that Hum had been +thrown from his perch, and was hanging head downward, fast asleep, still +clinging to the line. Another evening, being discomposed by somebody +coming to the towel-line after he had settled himself, he fluttered off; +but so sleepy that he had not discretion to poise himself again, and was +found clinging, like a little bunch of green floss silk, to the mosquito +netting of the window. + +A day after this we brought in a large green bough, and put it up over +the looking-glass. Hum noticed it before it had been there five minutes, +flew to it, and began a regular survey, perching now here, now there, +till he seemed to find a twig that exactly suited him; and after that he +roosted there every night. Who does not see in this change all the signs +of reflection and reason that are shown by us in thinking over our +circumstances, and trying to better them? It seemed to say in so many +words: “That towel-line is an unsafe place for a bird; I get frightened, +and wake from bad dreams to find myself head downwards; so I will find a +better roost on this twig.” + +When our little Jenny one day put on a clean white muslin gown +embellished with red sprigs, Hum flew towards her, and with his bill made +instant examination of these new appearances; and one day, being very +affectionately disposed, perched himself on her shoulder, and sat some +time. On another occasion, while Mr. A was reading, Hum established +himself on the top of his head just over the middle of his forehead, in +the precise place where our young belles have lately worn stuffed +humming-birds, making him look as if dressed out for a party. Hum’s most +favourite perch was the back of the great rocking-chair, which, being +covered by a tidy, gave some hold into which he could catch his little +claws. There he would sit, balancing himself cleverly if its occupant +chose to swing to and fro, and seeming to be listening to the +conversation or reading. + +Hum had his different moods, like human beings. On cold, cloudy, gray +days he appeared to be somewhat depressed in spirits, hummed less about +the room, and sat humped up with his feathers ruffled, looking as much +like a bird in a great-coat as possible. But on hot, sunny days, every +feather sleeked itself down, and his little body looked natty and trim, +his head alert, his eyes bright, and it was impossible to come near him, +for his agility. Then let mosquitoes and little flies look about them! +Hum snapped them up without mercy, and seemed to be all over the ceiling +in a moment, and resisted all our efforts at any personal familiarity +with a saucy alacrity. + +Hum had his established institutions in our room, the chief of which was +a tumbler with a little sugar and water mixed in it, and a spoon laid +across, out of which he helped himself whenever he felt in the +mood—sitting on the edge of the tumbler, and dipping his long bill, and +lapping with his little forked tongue like a kitten. When he found his +spoon accidentally dry, he would stoop over and dip his bill in the water +in the tumbler; which caused the prophecy on the part of some of his +guardians that he would fall in some—day and be drowned. For which +reason it was agreed to keep only an inch in depth of the fluid at the +bottom of the tumbler. A wise precaution this proved; for the next +morning I was awaked, not by the usual hum over my head, but by a sharp +little flutter, and found Mr. Hum beating his wings in the tumbler—having +actually tumbled in during his energetic efforts to get his morning +coffee before I was awake. + +Hum seemed perfectly happy and satisfied in his quarters; but one day, +when the door was left open, he made a dart out, and so into the open +sunshine. Then, to be sure, we thought we had lost him. We took the +mosquito netting, out of all the windows, and, setting his tumbler of +sugar and water in a conspicuous place, went about our usual occupations. +We saw him joyous and brisk among the honeysuckles outside the window, +and it was gravely predicted that he would return no more. But at +dinner-time in came Hum, familiar as possible, and sat down to his spoon +as if nothing had happened. Instantly we closed our windows and had him +secure once more. + +At another time I was going to ride to the Atlantic House, about a mile +from my boarding-place. I left all secure, as I supposed, at home. +While gathering moss on the walls there, I was surprised by a little +green humming-bird flying familiarly right towards my face and humming +above my head. I called out, “Here is Hum’s very brother.” But, on +returning home, I saw that the door of the room was open, and Hum was +gone. Now certainly we gave him up for lost. I sat down to painting, +and in a few minutes in flew Hum, and settled on the edge of my tumbler +in a social, confidential way, which seemed to say, “Oh, you’ve got back +then.” After taking his usual drink of sugar and water, he began to fly +about the ceiling as usual, and we gladly shut him in. + +When our five weeks at the seaside were up, and it was time to go home, +we had great questionings what was to be done with Hum. To get him home +with us was our desire; but who ever heard of a humming-bird travelling +by railroad? Great were the consultings. A little basket of Indian work +was filled up with cambric handkerchiefs, and a bottle of sugar and water +provided, and we started with him for a day’s journey. When we arrived +at night the first care was to see what had become of Hum, who had not +been looked at since we fed him with sugar and water in Boston. We found +him alive and well, but so dead asleep that we could not wake him to +roost; so we put him to bed on a toilet cushion, and arranged his tumbler +for morning. The next day found him alive and humming, exploring the +room and pictures, perching now here and now there; but as the weather +was chilly, he sat for the most part of the time in a humped-up state on +the tip of a pair of stag’s horns. We moved him to a more sunny +apartment; but, alas! the equinoctial storm came on, and there was no sun +to be had for days. Hum was blue; the pleasant seaside days were over; +his room was lonely, the pleasant three that had enlivened the apartment +at Rye no longer came in and out; evidently he was lonesome, and gave way +to depression. One chilly morning he managed again to fall into his +tumbler, and wet himself through; and notwithstanding warm bathings and +tender nursings, the poor little fellow seemed to get diphtheria, or +something quite as bad for humming-birds. + +We carried him to a neighbouring sunny parlour, where ivy embowers all +the walls and the sun lies all day. There he revived a little, danced up +and down, perched on a green spray that was wreathed across the breast of +a Psyche, and looked then like a little flitting soul returning to its +rest. Towards evening he drooped; and, having been nursed and warmed and +cared for, he was put to sleep on a green twig laid on the piano. In +that sleep the little head drooped—nodded—fell; and little Hum went where +other bright dreams go—to the Land of the Hereafter. + + + + +_OUR COUNTRY NEIGHBOURS_. + + +WE have just built our house in rather an out-of-the-way place—on the +bank of a river, and under the shade of a patch of woods which is a +veritable remain of quite an ancient forest. The checkerberry and +partridge-plum, with their glossy green leaves and scarlet berries, still +carpet the ground under its deep shadows; and prince’s-pine and other +kindred evergreens declare its native wildness,—for these are children of +the wild woods, that never come after plough and harrow have once broken +a soil. + +When we tried to look out the spot for our house, we had to get a +surveyor to go before us and cut a path through the dense underbrush that +was laced together in a general network of boughs and leaves, and grew so +high as to overtop our heads. Where the house stands, four or five great +old oaks and chestnuts had to be cut away to let it in; and now it stands +on the bank of the river, the edges of which are still overhung with old +forest-trees, chestnuts and oaks, which look at themselves in the glassy +stream. + +A little knoll near the house was chosen for a garden-spot; a dense, dark +mass of trees above, of bushes in mid-air, and of all sorts of ferns and +wild-flowers and creeping vines on the ground. All these had to be +cleared out, and a dozen great trees cut down and dragged off to a +neighbouring saw-mill, there to be transformed into boards to finish off +our house. Then, fetching a great machine, such as might be used to pull +a giant’s teeth, with ropes, pulleys, oxen, and men, and might and main, +we pulled out the stumps, with their great prongs and their network of +roots and fibres; and then, alas! we had to begin with all the pretty +wild, lovely bushes, and the checkerberries and ferns and wild +blackberries and huckleberry-bushes, and dig them up remorselessly, that +we might plant our corn and squashes. And so we got a house and a garden +right out of the heart of our piece of wild wood, about a mile from the +city of H-. + +Well, then, people said it was a lonely place, and far from +neighbours,—by which they meant that it was a good way for them to come +to see us. But we soon found that whoever goes into the woods to live +finds neighbours of a new kind, and some to whom it is rather hard to +become accustomed. + +For instance, on a fine day early in April, as we were crossing over to +superintend the building of our house, we were startled by a striped +snake, with his little bright eyes, raising himself to look at us, and +putting out his red, forked tongue. Now there is no more harm in these +little garden-snakes than there is in a robin or a squirrel—they are poor +little, peaceable, timid creatures, which could not do any harm if they +would; but the prejudices of society are so strong against them that one +does not like to cultivate too much intimacy with them. So we tried to +turn out of our path into a tangle of bushes; and there, instead of one, +we found four snakes. We turned on the other side, and there were two +more. In short, everywhere we looked, the dry leaves were rustling and +coiling with them; and we were in despair. In vain we said that they +were harmless as kittens, and tried to persuade ourselves that their +little bright eyes were pretty, and that their serpentine movements were +in the exact line of beauty: for the life of us, we could not help +remembering their family name and connections; we thought of those +disagreeable gentlemen the anacondas, the rattlesnakes, and the +copper-heads, and all of that bad line, immediate family friends of the +old serpent to whom we are indebted for all the mischief that is done in +this world. So we were quite apprehensive when we saw how our new +neighbourhood was infested by them, until a neighbour calmed our fears by +telling us that snakes always crawled out of their holes to sun +themselves in the spring, and that in a day or two they would all be +gone. + +So it proved. It was evident they were all out merely to do their spring +shopping, or something that serves with them the same purpose that spring +shopping does with us; and where they went afterwards we do not know. +People speak of snakes’ holes, and we have seen them disappearing into +such subterranean chambers; but we never opened one to see what sort of +underground housekeeping went on there. After the first few days of +spring, a snake was a rare visitor, though now and then one appeared. + +One was discovered taking his noontide repast one day in a manner which +excited much prejudice. He was, in fact, regaling himself by sucking +down into his maw a small frog, which he had begun to swallow at the +toes, and had drawn about half down. The frog, it must be confessed, +seemed to view this arrangement with great indifference, making no +struggle, and sitting solemnly, with his great unwinking eyes, to be +sucked in at the leisure of his captor. There was immense sympathy, +however, excited for him in the family circle; and it was voted that a +snake which indulged in such very disagreeable modes of eating his dinner +was not to be tolerated in our vicinity. So I have reason to believe +that that was his last meal. + +Another of our wild woodland neighbours made us some trouble. It was no +other than a veritable woodchuck, whose hole we had often wondered at +when we were scrambling through the underbrush after spring flowers. The +hole was about the size of a peck-measure, and had two openings about six +feet apart. The occupant was a gentleman we never had had the pleasure +of seeing, but we soon learned his existence from his ravages in our +garden. He had a taste, it appears, for the very kind of things we +wanted to eat ourselves, and helped himself without asking. We had a row +of fine, crisp heads of lettuce, which were the pride of our gardening, +and out of which he would from day to day select for his table just the +plants we had marked for ours. He also nibbled our young beans; and so +at last we were reluctantly obliged to let John Gardiner set a trap for +him. Poor old simple-minded hermit, he was too artless for this world! +He was caught at the very first snap, and found dead in the trap,—the +agitation and distress having broken his poor woodland heart, and killed +him. We were grieved to the very soul when the poor fat old fellow was +dragged out, with his useless paws standing up stiff and imploring. As +it was, he was given to Denis, our pig, which, without a single scruple +of delicacy, ate him up as thoroughly as he ate up the lettuce. + +This business of eating, it appears, must go on all through creation. We +eat ducks, turkeys, and chickens, though we don’t swallow them whole, +feathers and all. Our four-footed friends, less civilized, take things +with more directness and simplicity, and chew each other up without +ceremony, or swallow each other alive. Of these unceremonious habits we +had other instances. + +Our house had a central court on the southern side, into which looked the +library, dining-room, and front hall, as well as several of the upper +chambers. It was designed to be closed in with glass, to serve as a +conservatory in winter; and meanwhile we had filled it with splendid +plumy ferns, taken up out of the neighbouring wood. In the centre was a +fountain surrounded by stones, shells, mosses, and various water-plants. +We had bought three little goldfish to swim in our basin; and the spray +of it, as it rose in the air and rippled back into the water, was the +pleasantest possible sound of a hot day. We used to lie on the sofa in +the hall, and look into the court, and fancy we saw some scene of +fairy-land, and water-sprites coming up from the fountain. Suddenly a +new-comer presented himself,—no other than an immense bull-frog, that had +hopped up from the neighbouring river, apparently with a view to making a +permanent settlement in and about our fountain. He was to be seen, often +for hours, sitting reflectively on the edge of it, beneath the broad +shadow of the calla-leaves. When sometimes missed thence, he would be +found under the ample shield of a great bignonia, whose striped leaves +grew hard by. + +The family were prejudiced against him. What did he want there? It was +surely some sinister motive impelled him. He was probably watching for +an opportunity to gobble up the goldfish. We took his part, however, and +strenuously defended his moral character, and patronized him in all ways. +We gave him the name of Unke, and maintained that he was a +well-conducted, philosophical old water-sprite, who showed his good taste +in wanting to take up his abode in our conservatory. We even defended +his personal appearance, praised the invisible-green coat which he wore +on his back, and his gray vest, and solemn gold spectacles; and though he +always felt remarkably slimy when we touched him, yet, as he would sit +still and allow us to stroke his head and pat his back, we concluded his +social feelings might be warm, notwithstanding a cold exterior. Who +knew, after all, but he might be a beautiful young prince, enchanted +there till the princess should come to drop the golden ball into the +fountain, and so give him a chance to marry her and turn into a man +again? Such things, we are credibly informed, are matters of frequent +occurrence in Germany. Why not here? + +By-and-by there came to our fountain another visitor,—a frisky, green +young frog of the identical kind spoken of by the poet:— + + “There was a frog lived in a well, + Rig dum pully metakimo.” + +This thoughtless, dapper individual, with his bright green coat, his +faultless white vest, and sea-green tights, became rather the popular +favourite. He seemed just rakish and gallant enough to fulfil the +conditions of the song:— + + “The frog he would a-courting ride, + With sword and pistol by his side.” + +This lively young fellow, whom we shall call Cri-Cri, like other frisky +and gay young people, carried the day quite over the head of the solemn +old philosopher under the calla-leaves. At night, when all was still, he +would trill a joyous little note in his throat, while old Unke would +answer only with a cracked guttural more singular than agreeable; and to +all outward appearance the two were as good friends as their different +natures would allow. + +One day, however, the conservatory became the scene of a tragedy of the +deepest dye. We were summoned below by shrieks and howls of horror. “Do +pray come down and see what this vile, nasty, horrid old frog has been +doing!” Down we came; and there sat our virtuous old philosopher, with +his poor little brother’s hind legs still sticking out of the corner of +his mouth, as if he were smoking them for a cigar, all helplessly +palpitating as they were. In fact, our solemn old friend had done what +many a solemn hypocrite before has done,—swallowed his poor brother, neck +and crop,—and sat there with the most brazen indifference, looking as if +he had done the most proper and virtuous thing in the world. + +Immediately he was marched out of the conservatory at the point of a +walking-stick, and made to hop down to the river, into whose waters he +splashed, and we saw him no more. We regret to say that the popular +indignation was so precipitate in its results; otherwise the special +artist who sketched Hum, the son of Buz, intended to have made a sketch +of the old villain, as he sat with his luckless victim’s hind legs +projecting from his solemn mouth. With all his moral faults, he was a +good sitter, and would probably have sat immovable any length of time +that could be desired. + +Of other woodland neighbours there were some which we saw occasionally. +The shores of the river were lined here and there with the holes of the +muskrats; and in rowing by their settlements, we were sometimes strongly +reminded of them by the overpowering odour of the perfume from which they +get their name. There were also owls, whose nests were high up in some +of the old chestnut-trees. Often in the lonely hours of the night we +could hear them gibbering with a sort of wild, hollow laugh among the +distant trees. But one tenant of the woods made us some trouble in the +autumn. It was a little flying-squirrel, who took to making excursions +into our house in the night season, coming down the chimney into the +chambers, rustling about among the clothes, cracking nuts or nibbling at +any morsels of anything that suited his fancy. For a long time the +inmates of the rooms were awakened in the night by mysterious noises, +thumps, and rappings, and so lighted candles, and searched in vain to +find whence they came; for the moment any movement was made, the rogue +whipped up the chimney, and left us a prey to the most mysterious alarms. +What could it be? + +But one night our fine gentleman bounced in at the window of another +room, which had no fireplace; and the fair occupant, rising in the night, +shut the window, without suspecting that she had cut off the retreat of +any of her woodland neighbours. The next morning she was startled by +what she thought a gray rat running past her bed. She rose to pursue +him, when he ran up the wall, and clung against the plastering, showing +himself very plainly a gray flying-squirrel, with large, soft eyes, and +wings which consisted of a membrane uniting the fore paws to the hind +ones, like those of a bat. He was chased into the conservatory, and a +window being opened, out he flew upon the ground, and made away for his +native woods, and thus put an end to many fears as to the nature of our +nocturnal rappings. + +So you see how many neighbours we found by living in the woods, and, +after all, no worse ones than are found in the great world. + + + + +_THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF LITTLE WHISKEY_. + + +AND now, at the last, I am going to tell you something of the ways and +doings of one of the queer little people, whom I shall call Whiskey. + +You cannot imagine how pretty he is. His back has the most beautiful +smooth shining stripes of reddish brown and black, his eyes shine like +bright glass beads, and he sits up jauntily on his hind quarters, with +his little tail thrown over his back like a ruffle. + +And where does he live? Well, “that is telling,” as we children say. It +was somewhere up in the mountains of Berkshire, in a queer, quaint, +old-fashioned garden, that I made Mr. Whiskey’s acquaintance. + +Here there lives a young parson, who preaches every Sunday in a little +brown church, and during week-days goes through all these hills and +valleys, visiting the poor, and gathering children into Sunday schools. + +His wife is a very small-sized lady—not much bigger than you, my little +Mary—but very fond of all sorts of dumb animals; and by constantly +watching their actions and ways, she has come to have quite a strange +power over them, as I shall relate. + +The little lady fixed her mind on Whiskey, and gave him his name without +consulting him upon the subject. She admired his bright eyes, and +resolved to cultivate his acquaintance. + +By constant watching, she discovered that he had a small hole of his own +in the grass-plot a few paces from her back-door. So she used to fill +her pocket with hazel-nuts, and go out and sit in the back porch, and +make a little noise, such as squirrels make to each other, to attract his +attention. + +In a minute or two up would pop the little head with the bright eyes, in +the grass-plot, and Master Whiskey would sit on his haunches and listen, +with one small ear cocked towards her. Then she would throw him a +hazel-nut, and he would slip instantly down into his hole again. In a +minute or two, however, his curiosity would get the better of his +prudence; and she, sitting quiet, would see the little brown-striped head +slowly, slowly coming up again, over the tiny green spikes of the +grass-plot. Quick as a flash he would dart at the nut, whisk it into a +little bag on one side of his jaws, which Madam Nature has furnished him +with for his provision-pouch, and down into his hole again. An +ungrateful, suspicious little brute he was too; for though in this way he +bagged and carried off nut after nut, until the patient little woman had +used up a pound of hazel-nuts, still he seemed to have the same wild +fright at sight of her, and would whisk off and hide himself in his hole +the moment she appeared. In vain she called, “Whiskey, Whiskey, +Whiskey,” in the most flattering tones; in vain she coaxed and cajoled. +No, no; he was not to be caught napping. He had no objection to +accepting her nuts, as many as she chose to throw to him; but as to her +taking any personal liberty with him, you see, it was by no means to be +thought of. + +But at last patience and perseverance began to have their reward. Little +Master Whiskey said to himself, “Surely this is a nice, kind lady, to +take so much pains to give me nuts; she is certainly very considerate;” +and with that he edged a little nearer and nearer every day, until, quite +to the delight of the small lady, he would come and climb into her lap +and seize the nuts, when she rattled them there, and after that he seemed +to make exploring voyages all over her person. He would climb up and sit +on her shoulder; he would mount and perch himself on her head; and when +she held a nut for him between her teeth, he would take it out of her +mouth. + +After a while he began to make tours of discovery in the house. He would +suddenly appear on the minister’s writing-table when he was composing his +Sunday sermon, and sit cocking his little pert head at him, seeming to +wonder what he was about. But in all his explorations he proved himself +a true Yankee squirrel, having always a shrewd eye on the main chance. +If the parson dropped a nut on the floor, down went Whiskey after it, and +into his provision-bag it went, and then he would look up as if he +expected another; for he had a wallet on each side of his jaws, and he +always wanted both sides handsomely filled before he made for his hole. +So busy and active and always intent on this one object was he, that +before long the little lady found he had made way with six pounds of +hazel-nuts. His general rule was to carry off four nuts at a time—three +being stuffed into the side-pockets of his jaws, and the fourth held in +his teeth. When he had furnished himself in this way, he would dart like +lightning for his hole, and disappear in a moment; but in a short time up +he would come, brisk and wide-awake, and ready for the next supply. + +Once a person who had the curiosity to dig open a chipping squirrel’s +hole found in it two quarts of buckwheat, a quantity of grass-seed, +nearly a peck of acorns, some Indian corn, and a quart of walnuts; a +pretty handsome supply for a squirrel’s winter store-room—don’t you think +so? + +Whiskey learned in time to work for his living in many artful ways that +his young mistress devised. Sometimes she would tie his nuts up in a +paper package, which he would attack with great energy, gnawing the +strings, and rustling the nuts out of the paper in wonderfully quick +time. Sometimes she would tie a nut to the end of a bit of twine and +swing it backward and forward over his head; and after a succession of +spry jumps, he would pounce upon it, and hang swinging on the twine, till +he had gnawed the nut away. + +Another squirrel, doubtless hearing of Whiskey’s good luck, began to +haunt the same yard; but Whiskey would by no means allow him to cultivate +his young mistress’s acquaintance. No indeed! he evidently considered +that the institution would not support two. Sometimes he would appear to +be conversing with the stranger on the most familiar and amicable terms +in the back-yard; but if his mistress called his name, he would +immediately start and chase his companion quite out of sight, before he +came back to her. + +So you see that self-seeking is not confined to men alone, and that +Whiskey’s fine little fur coat covers a very selfish heart. + +As winter comes on, Whiskey will go down into his hole, which has many +long galleries and winding passages, and a snug little bedroom well lined +with leaves. Here he will doze and dream away his long winter months, +and nibble out the inside of his store of nuts. + +If I hear any more of his cunning tricks, I will tell you of them. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEER LITTLE FOLKS*** + + +******* This file should be named 2486-0.txt or 2486-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/8/2486 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Queer Little Folks + + +Author: Harriet Beecher Stowe + + + +Release Date: March 30, 2015 [eBook #2486] +[This file was first posted on March 4, 2000] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEER LITTLE FOLKS*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1897 T. Nelson and Sons edition by David +Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org. Proofed by Rab Hughes, +Carrie A. Fellman and Susan A. Wheeler.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/coverb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Book cover" +title= +"Book cover" + src="images/covers.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h1>QUEER<br /> +LITTLE FOLKS</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>By</i><br /> +<i>HARRIET BEECHER STOWE</i></p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">With +Illustrations</span></p> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><b>London</b>:<br /> +T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">1897</span></p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<h2>Contents.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p>Hen that Hatched Ducks</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Nutcrackers of Nutcracker Lodge</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page29">29</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The History of Tip-Top</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page43">43</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Miss Katy-Did and Miss Cricket</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page61">61</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mother Magpie’s Mischief</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Squirrels that live in a House</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page80">80</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Hum, the Son of Buz</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page93">93</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Our Country Neighbours</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page106">106</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Diverting History of Little Whiskey</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page117">117</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2>List of Illustrations.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p>The Brood Hatched</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="imageref"><a +href="#image19">19</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Feeding the Fame Robin</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="imageref"><a +href="#image59">59</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Erecting the Hen-House</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="imageref"><a +href="#image15">15</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Hen that Hatched Ducks</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="imageref"><a +href="#image25">25</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Enemies in Waiting</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="imageref"><a +href="#image39">39</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Nest in the Apple-Tree</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="imageref"><a +href="#image47">47</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Tip-Top in bad Company</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="imageref"><a +href="#image57">57</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Venturous Squirrels</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="imageref"><a +href="#image89">89</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span><i>HEN +THAT HATCHED DUCKS</i>.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">A STORY.</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Once</span> there was a nice young hen +that we will call Mrs. Feathertop. She was a hen of most +excellent family, being a direct descendant of the Bolton Grays, +and as pretty a young fowl as you could wish to see of a +summer’s day. She was, moreover, as fortunately +situated in life as it was possible for a hen to be. She +was bought by young Master Fred Little John, with four or five +family connections of hers, and a lively young cock, who was held +to be as brisk a scratcher and as capable a head of a family as +any half-dozen sensible hens could desire.</p> +<p>I can’t say that at first Mrs. Feathertop was a very +sensible hen. She was very pretty and lively, to be sure, +and a great favourite with Master Bolton Gray Cock, on account of +her bright eyes, her finely shaded feathers, and certain saucy +dashing ways that she had which seemed greatly to take his +fancy. But old Mrs. Scratchard, living in the neighbouring +yard, assured all the neighbourhood that Gray Cock was a fool for +thinking so much of that flighty young thing; <i>that</i> she had +not the smallest notion how to get on in life, and thought of +nothing in the world but her own pretty feathers. +“Wait till she comes to have chickens,” said Mrs. +Scratchard; “then you will see. I have brought up ten +broods myself—as likely and respectable chickens as ever +were a blessing to society—and I think I ought to know a +good hatcher and brooder when I see her; and I know <i>that</i> +fine piece of trumpery, with her white feathers tipped with gray, +never will come down to family life. <i>She</i> scratch for +chickens! Bless me, she never did anything in all her days +but run round and eat the worms which somebody else scratched up +for her.”</p> +<p>When Master Bolton Gray heard this he crowed very loudly, like +a cock of spirit, and declared that old Mrs. Scratchard was +envious, because she had lost all her own tail-feathers, and +looked more like a worn-out old feather-duster than a respectable +hen, and that therefore she was filled with sheer envy of anybody +that was young and pretty. So young Mrs. Feathertop cackled +gay defiance at her busy rubbishy neighbour, as she sunned +herself under the bushes on fine June afternoons.</p> +<p>Now Master Fred Little John had been allowed to have these +hens by his mamma on the condition that he would build their +house himself, and take all the care of it; and to do Master Fred +justice, he executed the job in a small way quite +creditably. He chose a sunny sloping bank covered with a +thick growth of bushes, and erected there a nice little hen-house +with two glass windows, a little door, and a good pole for his +family to roost on. He made, moreover, a row of nice little +boxes with hay in them for nests, and he bought three or four +little smooth white china eggs to put in them, so that, when his +hens <i>did</i> lay, he might carry off their eggs without their +being missed. This hen-house stood in a little grove that +sloped down to a wide river, just where there was a little cove +which reached almost to the hen-house.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a name="image15" href="images/p15b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Erecting the Hen-House" +title= +"Erecting the Hen-House" + src="images/p15s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>This situation inspired one of Master Fred’s boy +advisers with a new scheme in relation to his poultry +enterprise. “Hallo! I say, Fred,” said +Tom Seymour, “you ought to raise ducks; you’ve got a +capital place for ducks there.”</p> +<p>“Yes; but I’ve bought <i>hens</i>, you see,” +said Freddy; “so it’s no use trying.”</p> +<p>“No use! Of course there is. Just as if your +hens couldn’t hatch ducks’ eggs. Now you just +wait till one of your hens wants to sit, and you put ducks’ +eggs under her, and you’ll have a family of ducks in a +twinkling. You can buy ducks’ eggs a plenty of old +Sam under the hill. He always has hens hatch his +ducks.”</p> +<p>So Freddy thought it would be a good experiment, and informed +his mother the next morning that he intended to furnish the ducks +for the next Christmas dinner and when she wondered how he was to +come by them, he said mysteriously, “Oh, I will show you +how,” but did not further explain himself. The next +day he went with Tom Seymour and made a trade with old Sam, and +gave him a middle-aged jack-knife for eight of his ducks’ +eggs. Sam, by-the-by, was a woolly-headed old negro man, +who lived by the pond hard by, and who had long cast envying eyes +on Fred’s jack-knife, because it was of extra fine steel, +having been a Christmas present the year before. But Fred +knew very well there were any number more of jack-knives where +that came from, and that, in order to get a new one, he must +dispose of the old; so he made the purchase and came home +rejoicing.</p> +<p>Now about this time Mrs. Feathertop, having laid her eggs +daily with great credit to herself, notwithstanding Mrs. +Scratchard’s predictions, began to find herself suddenly +attacked with nervous symptoms. She lost her gay spirits, +grew dumpish and morose, stuck up her feathers in a bristling +way, and pecked at her neighbours if they did so much as look at +her. Master Gray Cock was greatly concerned, and went to +old Dr. Peppercorn, who looked solemn, and recommended an +infusion of angle-worms, and said he would look in on the patient +twice a day till she was better.</p> +<p>“Gracious me, Gray Cock!” said old Goody +Kertarkut, who had been lolling at the corner as he passed, +“ain’t you a fool?—cocks always are +fools. Don’t you know what’s the matter with +your wife? She wants to sit, that’s all; and you just +let her sit. A fiddlestick for Dr. Peppercorn! Why, +any good old hen that has brought up a family knows more than a +doctor about such things. You just go home and tell her to +sit if she wants to, and behave herself.”</p> +<p>When Gray Cock came home, he found that Master Freddy had been +before him, and had established Mrs. Feathertop upon eight nice +eggs, where she was sitting in gloomy grandeur. He tried to +make a little affable conversation with her, and to relate his +interview with the doctor and Goody Kertarkut; but she was morose +and sullen, and only pecked at him now and then in a very sharp, +unpleasant way. So after a few more efforts to make himself +agreeable he left her, and went out promenading with the +captivating Mrs. Red Comb, a charming young Spanish widow, who +had just been imported into the neighbouring yard.</p> +<p>“Bless my soul,” said he, “you’ve no +idea how cross my wife is.”</p> +<p>“O you horrid creature!” said Mrs. Red Comb. +“How little you feel for the weaknesses of us poor +hens!”</p> +<p>“On my word, ma’am,” said Gray Cock, +“you do me injustice. But when a hen gives way to +temper, ma’am, and no longer meets her husband with a +smile—when she even pecks at him whom she is bound to +honour and obey—”</p> +<p>“Horrid monster! talking of obedience! I should +say, sir, you came straight from Turkey.” And Mrs. +Red Comb tossed her head with a most bewitching air, and +pretended to run away; and old Mrs. Scratchard looked out of her +coop and called to Goody Kertarkut,—</p> +<p>“Look how Mr. Gray Cock is flirting with that +widow. I always knew she was a baggage.”</p> +<p>“And his poor wife left at home alone,” said Goody +Kertarkut. “It’s the way with ’em +all!”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” said Dame Scratchard, +“she’ll know what real life is now, and she +won’t go about holding her head so high, and looking down +on her practical neighbours that have raised families.”</p> +<p>“Poor thing! what’ll she do with a family?” +said Goody Kertarkut.</p> +<p>“Well, what business have such young flirts to get +married?” said Dame Scratchard. “I don’t +expect she’ll raise a single chick; and there’s Gray +Cock flirting about, fine as ever. Folks didn’t do so +when I was young. I’m sure my husband knew what +treatment a sitting hen ought to have,—poor old Long Spur! +he never minded a peck or so and then. I must say these +modern fowls ain’t what fowls used to be.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile the sun rose and set, and Master Fred was almost the +only friend and associate of poor little Mrs. Feathertop, whom he +fed daily with meal and water, and only interrupted her sad +reflections by pulling her up occasionally to see how the eggs +were coming on.</p> +<p>At last “Peep, peep, peep,” began to be heard in +the nest, and one little downy head after another poked forth +from under the feathers, surveying the world with round, bright, +winking eyes; and gradually the brood were hatched, and Mrs. +Feathertop arose, a proud and happy mother, with all the +bustling, scratching, care-taking instincts of family-life warm +within her breast. She clucked and scratched, and cuddled +the little downy bits of things as handily and discreetly as a +seven-year-old hen could have done, exciting thereby the wonder +of the community.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a name="image19" href="images/p19b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"The Brood Hatched" +title= +"The Brood Hatched" + src="images/p19s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Master Gray Cock came home in high spirits, and complimented +her; told her she was looking charmingly once more, and said, +“Very well, very nice,” as he surveyed the young +brood. So that Mrs. Feathertop began to feel the world +going well with her, when suddenly in came Dame Scratchard and +Goody Kertarkut to make a morning call.</p> +<p>“Let’s see the chicks,” said Dame +Scratchard.</p> +<p>“Goodness me,” said Goody Kertarkut, “what a +likeness to their dear papa!”</p> +<p>“Well, but bless me, what’s the matter with their +bills?” said Dame Scratchard. “Why, my dear, +these chicks are deformed! I’m sorry for you, my +dear; but it’s all the result of your inexperience. +You ought to have eaten pebble-stones with your meal when you +were sitting. Don’t you see, Dame Kertarkut, what +bills they have? That’ll increase, and they’ll +be frightful!”</p> +<p>“What shall I do?” said Mrs. Feathertop, now +greatly alarmed.</p> +<p>“Nothing, as I know of,” said Dame Scratchard, +“since you didn’t come to me before you sat. I +could have told you all about it. Maybe it won’t kill +’em, but they’ll always be deformed.”</p> +<p>And so the gossips departed, leaving a sting under the +pin-feathers of the poor little hen mamma, who began to see that +her darlings had curious little spoon-bills, different from her +own, and to worry and fret about it.</p> +<p>“My dear,” she said to her spouse, “do get +Dr. Peppercorn to come in and look at their bills, and see if +anything can be done.”</p> +<p>Dr. Peppercorn came in, and put on a monstrous pair of +spectacles, and said, “Hum! ha! extraordinary case; very +singular.”</p> +<p>“Did you ever see anything like it, doctor?” said +both parents in a breath.</p> +<p>“I’ve read of such cases. It’s a +calcareous enlargement of the vascular bony tissue, threatening +ossification,” said the doctor.</p> +<p>“Oh, dreadful! Can it be possible?” shrieked +both parents. “Can anything be done?”</p> +<p>“Well, I should recommend a daily lotion made of +mosquitoes’ horns and bicarbonate of frogs’ toes, +together with a powder, to be taken morning and night, of muriate +of fleas. One thing you must be careful about: they must +never wet their feet, nor drink any water.”</p> +<p>“Dear me, doctor, I don’t know what I <i>shall</i> +do, for they seem to have a particular fancy for getting into +water.”</p> +<p>“Yes, a morbid tendency often found in these cases of +bony tumification of the vascular tissue of the mouth; but you +must resist it, ma’am, as their life depends upon +it.” And with that Dr. Peppercorn glared gloomily on +the young ducks, who were stealthily poking the objectionable +little spoon-bills out from under their mother’s +feathers.</p> +<p>After this poor Mrs. Feathertop led a weary life of it; for +the young fry were as healthy and enterprising a brood of young +ducks as ever carried saucepans on the end of their noses, and +they most utterly set themselves against the doctor’s +prescriptions, murmured at the muriate of fleas and the +bicarbonate of frogs’ toes, and took every opportunity to +waddle their little ways down to the mud and water which was in +their near vicinity. So their bills grew larger and larger, +as did the rest of their bodies, and family government grew +weaker and weaker.</p> +<p>“You’ll wear me out, children, you certainly +will,” said poor Mrs. Feathertop.</p> +<p>“You’ll go to destruction, do ye hear?” said +Master Gray Cock.</p> +<p>“Did you ever see such frights as poor Mrs. Feathertop +has got?” said Dame Scratchard. “I knew what +would come of <i>her</i> family—all deformed, and with a +dreadful sort of madness which makes them love to shovel mud with +those shocking spoon-bills of theirs.”</p> +<p>“It’s a kind of idiocy,” said Goody +Kertarkut. “Poor things! they can’t be kept +from the water, nor made to take powders, and so they get worse +and worse.”</p> +<p>“I understand it’s affecting their feet so that +they can’t walk, and a dreadful sort of net is growing +between their toes. What a shocking visitation!”</p> +<p>“She brought it on herself,” said Dame +Scratchard. “Why didn’t she come to me before +she sat? She was always an upstart, self-conceited thing; +but I’m sure I pity her.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile the young ducks throve apace. Their necks grew +glossy, like changeable green and gold satin, and though they +would not take the doctor’s medicine, and would waddle in +the mud and water—for which they always felt themselves to +be very naughty ducks—yet they grew quite vigorous and +hearty. At last one day the whole little tribe waddled off +down to the bank of the river. It was a beautiful day, and +the river was dancing and dimpling and winking as the little +breezes shook the trees that hung over it.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the biggest of the little ducks, +“in spite of Dr. Peppercorn, I can’t help longing for +the water. I don’t believe it is going to hurt me; at +any rate, here goes,” and in he plumped, and in went every +duck after him, and they threw out their great brown feet as +cleverly as if they had taken swimming lessons all their lives, +and sailed off on the river, away, away among the ferns, under +the pink azaleas, through reeds and rushes, and arrow-heads and +pickerel-weed, the happiest ducks that ever were born; and soon +they were quite out of sight.</p> +<p>“Well, Mrs. Feathertop, this is a dispensation!” +said Mrs. Scratchard. “Your children are all drowned +at last, just as I knew they’d be. The old +music-teacher, Master Bullfrog, that lives down in Water-Dock +Lane, saw ’em all plump madly into the water together this +morning. That’s what comes of not knowing how to +bring up a family!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Feathertop gave only one shriek and fainted dead away, +and was carried home on a cabbage-leaf; and Mr. Gray Cock was +sent for, where he was waiting on Mrs. Red Comb through the +squash-vines.</p> +<p>“It’s a serious time in your family, sir,” +said Goody Kertarkut, “and you ought to be at home +supporting your wife. Send for Dr. Peppercorn without +delay.”</p> +<p>Now as the case was a very dreadful one, Dr. Peppercorn called +a council from the barn-yard of the squire, two miles off, and a +brisk young Dr. Partlett appeared, in a fine suit of brown and +gold, with tail-feathers like meteors. A fine young fellow +he was, lately from Paris, with all the modern scientific +improvements fresh in his head.</p> +<p>When he had listened to the whole story, he clapped his spur +into the ground, and leaning back laughed so loudly that all the +cocks in the neighbourhood crowed.</p> +<p>Mrs. Feathertop rose up out of her swoon, and Mr. Gray Cock +was greatly enraged.</p> +<p>“What do you mean, sir, by such behaviour in the house +of mourning?”</p> +<p>“My dear sir, pardon me; but there is no occasion for +mourning. My dear madam, let me congratulate you. +There is no harm done. The simple matter is, dear madam, +you have been under a hallucination all along. The +neighbourhood and my learned friend the doctor have all made a +mistake in thinking that these children of yours were hens at +all. They are ducks, ma’am, evidently ducks, and very +finely-formed ducks I daresay.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a name="image25" href="images/p25b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"The Hen that Hatched Ducks" +title= +"The Hen that Hatched Ducks" + src="images/p25s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>At this moment a quack was heard, and at a distance the whole +tribe were seen coming waddling home, their feathers gleaming in +green and gold, and they themselves in high good spirits.</p> +<p>“Such a splendid day as we have had!” they all +cried in a breath. “And we know now how to get our +own living; we can take care of ourselves in future, so you need +have no further trouble with us.”</p> +<p>“Madam,” said the doctor, making a bow with an air +which displayed his tail-feathers to advantage, “let me +congratulate you on the charming family you have raised. A +finer brood of young, healthy ducks I never saw. Give me +your claw, my dear friend,” he said, addressing the eldest +son. “In our barn-yard no family is more respected +than that of the ducks.”</p> +<p>And so Madam Feathertop came off glorious at last. And +when after this the ducks used to go swimming up and down the +river like so many nabobs among the admiring hens, Dr. Peppercorn +used to look after them and say, “Ah, I had the care of +their infancy!” and Mr. Gray Cock and his wife used to say, +“It was our system of education did that!”</p> +<h2><a name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span><i>THE +NUTCRACKERS OF NUTCRACKER LODGE</i>.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Mr</span>. and Mrs. Nutcracker were as +respectable a pair of squirrels as ever wore gray brushes over +their backs. They were animals of a settled and serious +turn of mind, not disposed to run after vanities and novelties, +but filling their station in life with prudence and +sobriety. Nutcracker Lodge was a hole in a sturdy old +chestnut overhanging a shady dell, and was held to be as +respectably kept an establishment as there was in the whole +forest. Even Miss Jenny Wren, the greatest gossip of the +neighbourhood, never found anything to criticise in its +arrangements; and old Parson Too-whit, a venerable owl who +inhabited a branch somewhat more exalted, as became his +profession, was in the habit of saving himself much trouble in +his parochial exhortations by telling his parishioners in short +to “look at the Nutcrackers” if they wanted to see +what it was to live a virtuous life. Everything had gone on +prosperously with them, and they had reared many successive +families of young Nutcrackers, who went forth to assume their +places in the forest of life, and to reflect credit on their +bringing up,—so that naturally enough they began to have a +very easy way of considering themselves models of wisdom.</p> +<p>But at last it came along, in the course of events, that they +had a son named Featherhead, who was destined to bring them a +great deal of anxiety. Nobody knows what the reason is, but +the fact was, that Master Featherhead was as different from all +the former children of this worthy couple as if he had been +dropped out of the moon into their nest, instead of coming into +it in the general way. Young Featherhead was a squirrel of +good parts and a lively disposition, but he was sulky and +contrary and unreasonable, and always finding matter of complaint +in everything his respectable papa and mamma did. Instead +of assisting in the cares of a family,—picking up nuts and +learning other lessons proper to a young squirrel,—he +seemed to settle himself from his earliest years into a sort of +lofty contempt for the Nutcrackers, for Nutcracker Lodge, and for +all the good old ways and institutions of the domestic hole, +which he declared to be stupid and unreasonable, and entirely +behind the times. To be sure, he was always on hand at +meal-times, and played a very lively tooth on the nuts which his +mother had collected, always selecting the very best for himself; +but he seasoned his nibbling with so much grumbling and +discontent, and so many severe remarks, as to give the impression +that he considered himself a peculiarly ill-used squirrel in +having to “eat their old grub,” as he very +unceremoniously called it.</p> +<p>Papa Nutcracker, on these occasions, was often fiercely +indignant, and poor little Mamma Nutcracker would shed tears, and +beg her darling to be a little more reasonable; but the young +gentleman seemed always to consider himself as the injured +party.</p> +<p>Now nobody could tell why or wherefore Master Featherhead +looked upon himself as injured or aggrieved, since he was living +in a good hole, with plenty to eat, and without the least care or +labour of his own; but he seemed rather to value himself upon +being gloomy and dissatisfied. While his parents and +brothers and sisters were cheerfully racing up and down the +branches, busy in their domestic toils, and laying up stores for +the winter, Featherhead sat gloomily apart, declaring himself +weary of existence, and feeling himself at liberty to quarrel +with everybody and everything about him. Nobody understood +him, he said;—he was a squirrel of a peculiar nature, and +needed peculiar treatment, and nobody treated him in a way that +did not grate on the finer nerves of his feelings. He had +higher notions of existence than could be bounded by that old +rotten hole in a hollow tree; he had thoughts that soared far +above the miserable, petty details of every-day life, and he +could not and would not bring down these soaring aspirations to +the contemptible toil of laying up a few chestnuts or +hickory-nuts for winter.</p> +<p>“Depend upon it, my dear,” said Mrs. Nutcracker +solemnly, “that fellow must be a genius.”</p> +<p>“Fiddlestick on his genius!” said old Mr. +Nutcracker; “what does he <i>do</i>?”</p> +<p>“Oh, nothing, of course; that’s one of the first +marks of genius. Geniuses, you know, never can come down to +common life.”</p> +<p>“He eats enough for any two,” remarked old +Nutcracker, “and he never helps to gather nuts.”</p> +<p>“My dear, ask Parson Too-whit. He has conversed +with him, and quite agrees with me that he says very uncommon +things for a squirrel of his age; he has such fine +feelings,—so much above those of the common +crowd.”</p> +<p>“Fine feelings be hanged!” said old +Nutcracker. “When a fellow eats all the nuts that his +mother gives him, and then grumbles at her, I don’t believe +much in his fine feelings. Why don’t he set himself +about something? I’m going to tell my fine young +gentleman that, if he doesn’t behave himself, I’ll +tumble him out of the nest, neck and crop, and see if hunger +won’t do something towards bringing down his fine +airs.”</p> +<p>But then Mrs. Nutcracker fell on her husband’s neck with +both paws, and wept, and besought him so piteously to have +patience with her darling, that old Nutcracker, who was himself a +soft-hearted old squirrel, was prevailed upon to put up with the +airs and graces of his young scapegrace a little longer; and +secretly in his silly old heart he revolved the question whether +possibly it might not be that a great genius was actually to come +of his household.</p> +<p>The Nutcrackers belonged to the old-established race of the +Grays, but they were sociable, friendly people, and kept on the +best of terms with all branches of the Nutcracker family. +The Chipmunks of Chipmunk Hollow were a very lively, cheerful, +sociable race, and on the very best of terms with the Nutcracker +Grays. Young Tip Chipmunk, the oldest son, was in all +respects a perfect contrast to Master Featherhead. He was +always lively and cheerful, and so very alert in providing for +the family, that old Mr. and Mrs. Chipmunk had very little care, +but could sit sociably at the door of their hole and chat with +neighbours, quite sure that Tip would bring everything out right +for them, and have plenty laid up for winter.</p> +<p>Now Featherhead took it upon him, for some reason or other, to +look down upon Tip Chipmunk, and on every occasion to disparage +him in the social circle, as a very common kind of squirrel, with +whom it would be best not to associate too freely.</p> +<p>“My dear,” said Mrs. Nutcracker one day, when he +was expressing these ideas, “it seems to me that you are +too hard on poor Tip; he is a most excellent son and brother, and +I wish you would be civil to him.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t doubt that Tip is <i>good</i> +enough,” said Featherhead carelessly; “but then he is +so very common! he hasn’t an idea in his skull above his +nuts and his hole. He is good-natured enough, to be +sure,—these very ordinary people often are +good-natured,—but he wants manner; he has really no manner +at all; and as to the deeper feelings, Tip hasn’t the +remotest idea of them. I mean always to be civil to Tip +when he comes in my way, but I think the less we see of that sort +of people the better; and I hope, mother, you won’t invite +the Chipmunks at Christmas,—these family dinners are such a +bore!”</p> +<p>“But, my dear, your father thinks a great deal of the +Chipmunks; and it is an old family custom to have all the +relatives here at Christmas.”</p> +<p>“And an awful bore it is! Why must people of +refinement and elevation be forever tied down because of some +distant relationship? Now there are our cousins the +High-Flyers,—if we could get them, there would be some +sense in it. Young Whisk rather promised me for Christmas; +but it’s seldom now you can get a flying squirrel to show +himself in our parts, and if we are intimate with the Chipmunks +it isn’t to be expected.”</p> +<p>“Confound him for a puppy!” said old Nutcracker, +when his wife repeated these sayings to him. +“Featherhead is a fool. Common, forsooth! I +wish good, industrious, painstaking sons like Tip Chipmunk +<i>were</i> common. For my part, I find these uncommon +people the most tiresome. They are not content with letting +us carry the whole load, but they sit on it, and scold at us +while we carry them.”</p> +<p>But old Mr. Nutcracker, like many other good old gentlemen +squirrels, found that Christmas dinners and other things were apt +to go as his wife said, and his wife was apt to go as young +Featherhead said; and so, when Christmas came, the Chipmunks were +not invited, for the first time in many years. The +Chipmunks, however, took all pleasantly, and accepted poor old +Mrs. Nutcracker’s awkward apologies with the best possible +grace; and young Tip looked in on Christmas morning with the +compliments of the season and a few beech-nuts, which he had +secured as a great dainty. The fact was, that Tip’s +little striped fur coat was so filled up and overflowing with +cheerful good-will to all, that he never could be made to +understand that any of his relations could want to cut him; and +therefore Featherhead looked down on him with contempt, and said +he had no tact, and couldn’t see when he was not +wanted.</p> +<p>It was wonderful to see how, by means of persisting in remarks +like these, young Featherhead at last got all his family to look +up to him as something uncommon. Though he added nothing to +the family, and required more to be done for him than all the +others put together,—though he showed not the smallest real +perseverance or ability in anything useful,—yet somehow all +his brothers and sisters, and his poor foolish old mother, got +into a way of regarding him as something wonderful, and +delighting in his sharp sayings as if they had been the wisest +things in the world.</p> +<p>But at last old papa declared that it was time for Featherhead +to settle himself to some business in life, roundly declaring +that he could not always have him as a hanger-on in the paternal +hole.</p> +<p>“What are you going to do, my boy?” said Tip +Chipmunk to him one day. “We are driving now a +thriving trade in hickory-nuts, and if you would like to join +us—”</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Featherhead; “but I +confess I have no fancy for anything so slow as the hickory +trade; I never was made to grub and delve in that way.”</p> +<p>The fact was that Featherhead had lately been forming +alliances such as no reputable squirrel should even think +of. He had more than once been seen going out evenings with +the Rats of Rat Hollow,—a race whose reputation for honesty +was more than doubtful. The fact was, further, that old +Longtooth Rat, an old sharper and money-lender, had long had his +eye on Featherhead as just about silly enough for their +purposes,—engaging him in what he called a speculation, but +which was neither more nor less than downright stealing.</p> +<p>Near by the chestnut-tree where Nutcracker Lodge was situated +was a large barn filled with corn and grain, besides many bushels +of hazel-nuts, chestnuts, and walnuts. Now old Longtooth +proposed to young Featherhead that he should nibble a passage +into this loft, and there establish himself in the commission +business, passing the nuts and corn to him as he wanted +them. Old Longtooth knew what he was about in the proposal, +for he had heard talk of a brisk Scotch terrier that was about to +be bought to keep the rats from the grain; but you may be sure he +kept his knowledge to himself, so that Featherhead was none the +wiser for it.</p> +<p>“The nonsense of fellows like Tip Chipmunk!” said +Featherhead to his admiring brothers and sisters—“the +perfectly stupid nonsense! There he goes, delving and +poking, picking up a nut here and a grain there, when <i>I</i> +step into property at once.”</p> +<p>“But I hope, my son, you are careful to be honest in +your dealings,” said old Nutcracker, who was a very moral +squirrel.</p> +<p>With that, young Featherhead threw his tail saucily over one +shoulder, winked knowingly at his brothers, and said, +“Certainly, sir! If honesty consists in getting what +you can while it is going, I mean to be honest.”</p> +<p>Very soon Featherhead appeared to his admiring companions in +the height of prosperity. He had a splendid hole in the +midst of a heap of chestnuts, and he literally seemed to be +rolling in wealth; he never came home without showering lavish +gifts on his mother and sisters; he wore his tail over his back +with a buckish air, and patronized Tip Chipmunk with a gracious +nod whenever he met him, and thought that the world was going +well with him.</p> +<p>But one luckless day, as Featherhead was lolling in his hole, +up came two boys with the friskiest, wiriest Scotch terrier you +ever saw. His eyes blazed like torches, and poor +Featherhead’s heart died within him as he heard the boys +say, “Now we’ll see if we can’t catch the +rascal that eats our grain.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a name="image39" href="images/p39b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Enemies in waiting" +title= +"Enemies in waiting" + src="images/p39s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Featherhead tried to slink out at the hole he had gnawed to +come in by, but found it stopped.</p> +<p>“Oh, you are there, are you, mister?” said the +boy. “Well, you don’t get out; and now for a +chase!”</p> +<p>And, sure enough, poor Featherhead ran distracted with terror +up and down, through the bundles of hay, between barrels, and +over casks, but with the barking terrier ever at his heels, and +the boys running, shouting, and cheering his pursuer on. He +was glad at last to escape through a crack, though he left half +of his fine brush behind him; for Master Wasp the terrier made a +snap at it just as he was going, and cleaned all the hair off of +it, so that it was bare as a rat’s tail.</p> +<p>Poor Featherhead limped off, bruised and beaten and +bedraggled, with the boys and dog still after him; and they would +have caught him, after all, if Tip Chipmunk’s hole had not +stood hospitably open to receive him. Tip took him in, like +a good-natured fellow as he was, and took the best of care of +him; but the glory of Featherhead’s tail had departed for +ever. He had sprained his left paw, and got a chronic +rheumatism, and the fright and fatigue which he had gone through +had broken up his constitution, so that he never again could be +what he had been; but, Tip gave him a situation as under-clerk in +his establishment, and from that time he was a sadder and a wiser +squirrel than he ever had been before.</p> +<h2><a name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 43</span><i>THE +HISTORY OF TIP-TOP</i>.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Under</span> the window of a certain +pretty little cottage there grew a great old apple-tree, which in +the spring had thousands and thousands of lovely pink blossoms on +it, and in the autumn had about half as many bright red apples as +it had blossoms in the spring.</p> +<p>The nursery of this cottage was a little bower of a room, +papered with mossy-green paper, and curtained with white muslin; +and here five little children used to come, in their white +nightgowns, to be dressed and have their hair brushed and curled +every morning.</p> +<p>First, there were Alice and Mary, bright-eyed, laughing little +girls, of seven and eight years; and then came stout little +Jamie, and Charlie; and finally little Puss, whose real name was +Ellen, but who was called Puss, and Pussy, and Birdie, and +Toddlie, and any other pet name that came to mind.</p> +<p>Now it used to happen, every morning, that the five little +heads would be peeping out of the window, together, into the +flowery boughs of the apple-tree; and the reason was this. +A pair of robins had built a very pretty, smooth-lined nest in a +fork of the limb that came directly under the window, and the +building of this nest had been superintended, day by day, by the +five pairs of bright eyes of these five children. The +robins at first had been rather shy of this inspection; but as +they got better acquainted, they seemed to think no more of the +little curly heads in the window than of the pink blossoms about +them, or the daisies and buttercups at the foot of the tree.</p> +<p>All the little hands were forward to help; some threw out +flossy bits of cotton,—for which, we grieve to say, Charlie +had cut a hole in the crib quilt,—and some threw out bits +of thread and yarn, and Allie ravelled out a considerable piece +from one of her garters, which she threw out as a contribution; +and they exulted in seeing the skill with which the little +builders wove everything in. “Little birds, little +birds,” they would say, “you shall be kept warm, for +we have given you cotton out of our crib quilt, and yarn out of +our stockings.” Nay, so far did this generosity +proceed, that Charlie cut a flossy, golden curl from +Toddlie’s head and threw it out; and when the birds caught +it up the whole flock laughed to see Toddlie’s golden hair +figuring in a bird’s-nest.</p> +<p>When the little thing was finished, it was so neat, and trim, +and workman-like, that the children all exulted over it, and +called it “our nest,” and the two robins they called +“our birds.” But wonderful was the joy when the +little eyes, opening one morning, saw in the nest a beautiful +pale-green egg; and the joy grew from day to day, for every day +there came another egg, and so on till there were five little +eggs; and then the oldest girl, Alice, said, “There are +five eggs: that makes one for each of us, and each of us will +have a little bird by-and-by;”—at which all the +children laughed and jumped for glee.</p> +<p>When the five little eggs were all laid, the mother-bird began +to sit on them; and at any time of day or night, when a little +head peeped out of the nursery window, might be seen a round, +bright, patient pair of bird’s eyes contentedly waiting for +the young birds to come. It seemed a long time for the +children to wait; but every day they put some bread and cake from +their luncheon on the window-sill, so that the birds might have +something to eat; but still there she was, patiently sitting!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a name="image47" href="images/p47b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"The Nest in the Apple-Tree" +title= +"The Nest in the Apple-Tree" + src="images/p47s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>“How long, long, long she waits!” said Jamie +impatiently. “I don’t believe she’s ever +going to hatch.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes she is!” said grave little Alice. +“Jamie, you don’t understand about these things; it +takes a long, long time to hatch eggs. Old Sam says his +hens sit three weeks;—only think, almost a +month!”</p> +<p>Three weeks looked a long time to the five bright pairs of +little watching eyes; but Jamie said the eggs were so much +smaller than hens’ eggs that it wouldn’t take so long +to hatch them, he knew. Jamie always thought he knew all +about everything, and was so sure of it that he rather took the +lead among the children. But one morning, when they pushed +their five heads out of the window, the round, patient little +bird-eyes were gone, and there seemed to be nothing in the nest +but a bunch of something hairy.</p> +<p>Upon this they all cried out, “O mamma, <i>do</i> come +here! the bird is gone and left her nest?” And when +they cried out, they saw five wide little red mouths open in the +nest, and saw that the hairy bunch of stuff was indeed the first +of five little birds.</p> +<p>“They are dreadful-looking things,” said Mary; +“I didn’t know that little birds began by looking so +badly.”</p> +<p>“They seem to be all mouth,” said Jamie.</p> +<p>“We must feed them,” said +Charlie.—“Here, little birds, here’s some +gingerbread for you,” he said; and he threw a bit of his +gingerbread, which fortunately only hit the nest on the outside, +and fell down among the buttercups, where two crickets made a +meal of it, and agreed that it was as excellent gingerbread as if +old Mother Cricket herself had made it.</p> +<p>“Take care, Charlie,” said his mamma; “we do +not know enough to feed young birds. We must leave that to +their papa and mamma, who probably started out bright and early +in the morning to get breakfast for them.”</p> +<p>Sure enough, while they were speaking, back came Mr. and Mrs. +Robin, whirring through the green shadows of the apple tree; and +thereupon all the five little red mouths flew open, and the birds +put something into each.</p> +<p>It was great amusement, after this, to watch the daily feeding +of the little birds, and to observe how, when not feeding them, +the mother sat brooding on the nest, warming them under her soft +wings, while the father-bird sat on the topmost bough of the +apple-tree and sang to them. In time they grew and grew, +and, instead of a nest full of little red mouths, there was a +nest full of little, fat, speckled robins, with round, bright, +cunning eyes, just like their parents; and the children began to +talk together about their birds.</p> +<p>“I’m going to give my robin a name,” said +Mary. “I call him Brown-Eyes.”</p> +<p>“And I call mine Tip-Top,” said Jamie, +“because I know he’ll be a tip-top bird.”</p> +<p>“And I call mine Singer,” said Alice.</p> +<p>“I ’all mine Toddy,” said little Toddlie, +who would not be behindhand in anything that was going on.</p> +<p>“Hurrah for Toddlie!” said Charlie; “hers is +the best of all. For my part, I call mine +Speckle.”</p> +<p>So then the birds were all made separate characters by having +each a separate name given it.</p> +<p>Brown-Eyes, Tip-Top, Singer, Toddy, and Speckle made, as they +grew bigger, a very crowded nestful of birds.</p> +<p>Now the children had early been taught to say in a little +hymn:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Birds in their little nests agree;<br /> + And ’tis a shameful sight<br /> +When children of one family<br /> + Fall out, and chide, and fight;”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and they thought anything really written and printed in a hymn +must be true; therefore they were very much astonished to see, +from day to day, that <i>their</i> little birds in their nest did +<i>not</i> agree.</p> +<p>Tip-Top was the biggest and strongest bird, and he was always +shuffling and crowding the others, and clamouring for the most +food; and when Mrs. Robin came in with a nice bit of anything, +Tip-Top’s red mouth opened so wide, and he was so noisy, +that one would think the nest was all his. His mother used +to correct him for these gluttonous ways, and sometimes made him +wait till all the rest were helped before she gave him a +mouthful; but he generally revenged himself in her absence by +crowding the others and making the nest generally +uncomfortable. Speckle, however, was a bird of spirit, and +he used to peck at Tip-Top; so they would sometimes have a +regular sparring-match across poor Brown-Eyes, who was a meek, +tender little fellow, and would sit winking and blinking in fear +while his big brothers quarrelled. As to Toddy and Singer, +they turned out to be sister birds, and showed quite a feminine +talent for chattering; they used to scold their badly behaving +brothers in a way that made the nest quite lively.</p> +<p>On the whole Mr. and Mrs. Robin did not find their family +circle the peaceable place the poet represents.</p> +<p>“I say,” said Tip-Top one day to them, “this +old nest is a dull, mean, crowded hole, and it’s quite time +some of us were out of it. Just give us lessons in flying, +won’t you? and let us go.”</p> +<p>“My dear boy,” said Mother Robin, “we shall +teach you to fly as soon as your wings are strong +enough.”</p> +<p>“You are a very little bird,” said his father, +“and ought to be good and obedient, and wait patiently till +your wing-feathers grow; and then you can soar away to some +purpose.”</p> +<p>“Wait for my wing-feathers? Humbug!” Tip-Top +would say, as he sat balancing with his little short tail on the +edge of the nest, and looking down through the grass and +clover-heads below, and up into the blue clouds above. +“Father and mother are slow old birds; they keep a fellow +back with their confounded notions. If they don’t +hurry up, I’ll take matters into my own claws, and be off +some day before they know it. Look at those swallows, +skimming and diving through the blue air! That’s the +way I want to do.”</p> +<p>“But, dear brother, the way to learn to do that is to be +good and obedient while we are little, and wait till our parents +think it best for us to begin.”</p> +<p>“Shut up your preaching,” said Tip-Top; +“what do you girls know of flying?”</p> +<p>“About as much as you,” said Speckle. +“However, I’m sure I don’t care how soon you +take yourself off, for you take up more room than all the rest +put together.”</p> +<p>“You mind yourself, Master Speckle, or you’ll get +something you don’t like,” said Tip-Top, still +strutting in a very cavalier way on the edge of the nest, and +sticking up his little short tail quite valiantly.</p> +<p>“O my darlings,” said their mamma, now fluttering +home, “cannot I ever teach you to live in love?”</p> +<p>“It’s all Tip-Top’s fault,” screamed +the other birds in a flutter.</p> +<p>“My fault? Of course, everything in this nest that +goes wrong is laid to me,” said Tip-Top; “and +I’ll leave it to anybody, now, if I crowd anybody. +I’ve been sitting outside, on the very edge of the nest, +and there’s Speckle has got my place.”</p> +<p>“Who wants your place?” said Speckle. +“I’m sure you can come in, if you please.”</p> +<p>“My dear boy,” said the mother, “do go into +the nest and be a good little bird, and then you will be +happy.”</p> +<p>“That’s always the talk,” said +Tip-Top. “I’m too big for the nest, and I want +to see the world. It’s full of beautiful things, I +know. Now there’s the most lovely creature, with +bright eyes, that comes under the tree every day, and wants me to +come down in the grass and play with her.”</p> +<p>“My son, my son, beware!” said the frightened +mother; “that lovely-seeming creature is our dreadful +enemy, the cat,—a horrid monster, with teeth and +claws.”</p> +<p>At this, all the little birds shuddered and cuddled deeper in +the nest; only Tip-Top in his heart disbelieved it. +“I’m too old a bird,” said he to himself, +“to believe <i>that</i> story; mother is chaffing me. +But I’ll show her that I can take care of +myself.”</p> +<p>So the next morning, after the father and mother were gone, +Tip-Top got on the edge of the nest again, and looked over and +saw lovely Miss Pussy washing her face among the daisies under +the tree, and her hair was sleek and white as the daisies, and +her eyes were yellow and beautiful to behold, and she looked up +to the tree bewitchingly, and said, “Little birds, little +birds, come down; Pussy wants to play with you.”</p> +<p>“Only look at her!” said Tip-Top; “her eyes +are like gold.”</p> +<p>“No, don’t look,” said Singer and +Speckle. “She will bewitch you, and then eat you +up.”</p> +<p>“I’d like to see her try to eat me up,” said +Tip-Top, again balancing his short tail over the nest. +“Just as if she would. She’s just the nicest, +most innocent creature going, and only wants us to have +fun. We never do have any fun in this old nest!”</p> +<p>Then the yellow eyes below shot a bewildering light into +Tip-Top’s eyes, and a voice sounded sweet as silver: +“Little birds, little birds, come down; Pussy wants to play +with you.”</p> +<p>“Her paws are as white as velvet,” said Tip-Top, +“and so soft! I don’t believe she has any +claws.”</p> +<p>“Don’t go, brother, don’t!” screamed +both sisters.</p> +<p>All we know about it is, that a moment after a direful scream +was heard from the nursery window. “O mamma, mamma, +do come here! Tip-Top’s fallen out of the nest, and +the cat has got him!”</p> +<p>Away ran Pussy with foolish little Tip-Top in her mouth, and +he squeaked dolefully when he felt her sharp teeth. Wicked +Miss Pussy had no mind to eat him at once; she meant just as she +said, to “play with him.” So she ran off to a +private place among the currant-bushes, while all the little +curly heads were scattered up and down looking for her.</p> +<p>Did you ever see a cat play with a bird or a mouse? She +sets it down, and seems to go off and leave it; but the moment it +makes the first movement to get away,—pounce! she springs +on it, and shakes it in her mouth; and so she teases and +tantalizes it, till she gets ready to kill and eat it. I +can’t say why she does it, except that it is a cat’s +nature; and it is a very bad nature for foolish young robins to +get acquainted with.</p> +<p>“Oh, where is he? where is he? Do find my poor +Tip-Top,” said Jamie, crying as loud as he could +scream. “I’ll kill that horrid +cat,—I’ll kill her!”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a name="image57" href="images/p57b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Tip-Top in bad Company" +title= +"Tip-Top in bad Company" + src="images/p57s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Robin, who had come home meantime, joined their +plaintive chirping to the general confusion; and Mrs. +Robin’s bright eyes soon discovered her poor little son, +where Pussy was patting and rolling him from one paw to the other +under the currant-bushes; and settling on the bush above, she +called the little folks to the spot by her cries.</p> +<p>Jamie plunged under the bush, and caught the cat with luckless +Tip-Top in her mouth; and, with one or two good thumps, he +obliged her to let him go. Tip-Top was not dead, but in a +sadly draggled and torn state. Some of his feathers were +torn out, and one of his wings was broken, and hung down in a +melancholy way.</p> +<p>“Oh, what <i>shall</i> we do for him? He will +die. Poor Tip-Top!” said the children.</p> +<p>“Let’s put him back into the nest, +children,” said mamma. “His mother will know +best what to do with him.”</p> +<p>So a ladder was got, and papa climbed up and put poor Tip-Top +safely into the nest. The cat had shaken all the nonsense +well out of him; he was a dreadfully humbled young robin.</p> +<p>The time came at last when all the other birds in the nest +learned to fly, and fluttered and flew about everywhere; but poor +melancholy Tip-Top was still confined to the nest with a broken +wing. Finally, <i>as</i> it became evident that it would be +long before he could fly, Jamie took him out of the nest, and +made a nice little cage for him, and used to feed him every day, +and he would hop about and seem tolerably contented; but it was +evident that he would be a lame-winged robin all his days.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a name="image59" href="images/p59b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Feeding the lame Robin" +title= +"Feeding the lame Robin" + src="images/p59s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Jamie’s mother told him that Tip-Top’s history was +an allegory.</p> +<p>“I don’t know what you mean, mamma,” said +Jamie.</p> +<p>“When something in a bird’s life is like something +in a boy’s life, or when a story is similar in its meaning +to reality, we call it an allegory. Little boys, when they +are about half grown up, sometimes do just as Tip-Top did. +They are in a great hurry to get away from home into the great +world; and then temptation comes, with bright eyes and smooth +velvet paws, and promises them fun; and they go to bad places; +they get to smoking, and then to drinking; and, finally, the bad +habit gets them in its teeth and claws, and plays with them as a +cat does with a mouse. They try to reform, just as your +robin tried to get away from the cat; but their bad habits pounce +on them and drag them back. And so, when the time comes +that they want to begin life, they are miserable, broken-down +creatures, like your broken-winged robin.</p> +<p>“So, Jamie, remember, and don’t try to be a man +before your time, and let your parents judge for you while you +are young; and never believe in any soft white Pussy, with golden +eyes, that comes and wants to tempt you to come down and play +with her. If a big boy offers to teach you to smoke a +cigar, that is Pussy. If a boy wants you to go into a +billiard-saloon, that is Pussy. If a boy wants you to learn +to drink anything with spirit in it, however sweetened and +disguised, remember Pussy is there. And Pussy’s claws +are long, and Pussy’s teeth are strong; and if she gives +you one shake in your youth, you will be like a broken-winged +robin all your days.”</p> +<h2><a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +61</span><i>MISS KATY-DID AND MISS CRICKET</i>.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Katy-did</span> sat on the branch of +a flowering azalea, in her best suit of fine green and silver, +with wings of point-lace from Mother Nature’s finest +web.</p> +<p>Miss Katy was in the very highest possible spirits, because +her gallant cousin, Colonel Katy-did, had looked in to make her a +morning visit. It was a fine morning, too, which goes for +as much among the Katy-dids as among men and women. It was, +in fact, a morning that Miss Katy thought must have been made on +purpose for her to enjoy herself in. There had been a +patter of rain the night before, which had kept the leaves awake +talking to each other till nearly morning; but by dawn the small +winds had blown brisk little puffs, and whisked the heavens clear +and bright with their tiny wings, as you have seen Susan clear +away the cobwebs in your mamma’s parlour; and so now there +were only left a thousand blinking, burning water-drops, hanging +like convex mirrors at the end of each leaf, and Miss Katy +admired herself in each one.</p> +<p>“Certainly I am a pretty creature,” she said to +herself; and when the gallant colonel said something about being +dazzled by her beauty, she only tossed her head and took it as +quite a matter of course.</p> +<p>“The fact is, my dear colonel,” she said, “I +am thinking of giving a party, and you must help me to make out +the lists.”</p> +<p>“My dear, you make me the happiest of +Katy-dids.”</p> +<p>“Now,” said Miss Katy-did, drawing an azalea-leaf +towards her, “let us see—whom shall we have? +The Fireflies, of course; everybody wants them, they are so +brilliant,—a little unsteady, to be sure, but quite in the +higher circles.”</p> +<p>“Yes, we must have the Fireflies,” echoed the +colonel.</p> +<p>“Well, then, and the Butterflies and the Moths. +Now, there’s a trouble. There’s such an +everlasting tribe of those Moths; and if you invite dull people +they’re always sure all to come, every one of them. +Still, if you have the Butterflies, you can’t leave out the +Moths.”</p> +<p>“Old Mrs. Moth has been laid up lately with a gastric +fever, and that may keep two or three of the Misses Moth at +home,” said the colonel.</p> +<p>“Whatever could give the old lady such a turn?” +said Miss Katy. “I thought she never was +sick.”</p> +<p>“I suspect it’s high living. I understand +she and her family ate up a whole ermine cape last month, and it +disagreed with them.”</p> +<p>“For my part, I can’t conceive how the Moths can +live as they do,” said Miss Katy, with a face of +disgust. “Why, I could no more eat worsted and fur, +as they do—”</p> +<p>“That is quite evident from the fairy-like delicacy of +your appearance,” said the colonel. “One can +see that nothing so gross or material has ever entered into your +system.”</p> +<p>“I’m sure,” said Miss Katy, “mamma +says she don’t know what does keep me alive; half a dewdrop +and a little bit of the nicest part of a rose-leaf, I assure you, +often last me for a day. But we are forgetting our +list. Let’s see—the Fireflies, Butterflies, +Moths. The Bees must come, I suppose.”</p> +<p>“The Bees are a worthy family,” said the +colonel.</p> +<p>“Worthy enough, but dreadfully humdrum,” said Miss +Katy. “They never talk about anything but honey and +housekeeping; still, they are a class of people one cannot +neglect.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, there are the Bumble-Bees.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I dote on them! General Bumble is one of the +most dashing, brilliant fellows of the day.”</p> +<p>“I think he is shockingly corpulent,” said Colonel +Katy-did, not at all pleased to hear him praised; +“don’t you?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know but he <i>is</i> a little +stout,” said Miss Katy; “but so distinguished and +elegant in his manners—something quite martial and breezy +about him.”</p> +<p>“Well, if you invite the Bumble-Bees, you must have the +Hornets.”</p> +<p>“Those spiteful Hornets! I detest them!”</p> +<p>“Nevertheless, dear Miss Katy, one does not like to +offend the Hornets.”</p> +<p>“No, one can’t. There are those five Misses +Hornet—dreadful old maids!—as full of spite as they +can live. You may be sure they will every one come, and be +looking about to make spiteful remarks. Put down the +Hornets, though.”</p> +<p>“How about the Mosquitoes!” said the colonel.</p> +<p>“Those horrid Mosquitoes—they are dreadfully +plebeian! Can’t one cut them?”</p> +<p>“Well dear Miss Katy,” said the colonel, “if +you ask my candid opinion as a friend, I should say not. +There’s young Mosquito, who graduated last year, has gone +into literature, and is connected with some of our leading +papers, and they say he carries the sharpest pen of all the +writers. It won’t do to offend him.”</p> +<p>“And so I suppose we must have his old aunts, and all +six of his sisters, and all his dreadfully common +relations.”</p> +<p>“It is a pity,” said the colonel; “but one +must pay one’s tax to society.”</p> +<p>Just at this moment the conference was interrupted by a +visitor, Miss Keziah Cricket, who came in with her work-bag on +her arm to ask a subscription for a poor family of Ants who had +just had their house hoed up in clearing the garden-walks.</p> +<p>“How stupid of them,” said Katy, “not to +know better than to put their house in the garden-walk; +that’s just like those Ants.”</p> +<p>“Well, they are in great trouble; all their stores +destroyed, and their father killed—cut quite in two by a +hoe.”</p> +<p>“How very shocking! I don’t like to hear of +such disagreeable things; it affects my nerves terribly. +Well, I’m sure I haven’t anything to give. +Mamma said yesterday she was sure she didn’t know how our +bills were to be paid; and there’s my green satin with +point-lace yet to come home.” And Miss Katy-did +shrugged her shoulders and affected to be very busy with Colonel +Katy-did, in just the way that young ladies sometimes do when +they wish to signify to visitors that they had better leave.</p> +<p>Little Miss Cricket perceived how the case stood, and so +hopped briskly off, without giving herself even time to be +offended. “Poor extravagant little thing!” said +she to herself, “it was hardly worth while to ask +her.”</p> +<p>“Pray, shall you invite the Crickets?” said +Colonel Katy-did.</p> +<p>“Who? I? Why, colonel, what a +question! Invite the Crickets? Of what can you be +thinking?”</p> +<p>“And shall you not ask the Locusts, and the +Grasshoppers?”</p> +<p>“Certainly. The Locusts, of course,—a very +old and distinguished family; and the Grasshoppers are pretty +well, and ought to be asked. But we must draw a line +somewhere,—and the Crickets! why, it’s shocking even +to think of!”</p> +<p>“I thought they were nice, respectable +people.”</p> +<p>“Oh, perfectly nice and respectable,—very good +people, in fact, so far as that goes. But then you must see +the difficulty.”</p> +<p>“My dear cousin, I am afraid you must +explain.”</p> +<p>“Why, their <i>colour</i>, to be sure. Don’t +you see?”</p> +<p>“Oh!” said the colonel. “That’s +it, is it? Excuse me, but I have been living in France, +where these distinctions are wholly unknown, and I have not yet +got myself in the train of fashionable ideas here.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, let me teach you,” said Miss +Katy. “You know we republicans go for no distinctions +except those created by Nature herself, and we found our rank +upon <i>colour</i>, because that is clearly a thing that none has +any hand in but our Maker. You see?”</p> +<p>“Yes; but who decides what colour shall be the reigning +colour?”</p> +<p>“I’m surprised to hear the question! The +only true colour—the only proper one—is <i>our</i> +colour, to be sure. A lovely pea-green is the precise shade +on which to found aristocratic distinction. But then we are +liberal;—we associate with the Moths, who are gray; with +the Butterflies, who are blue-and-gold coloured; with the +Grasshoppers, yellow and brown; and society would become +dreadfully mixed if it were not fortunately ordered that the +Crickets are black as jet. The fact is, that a class to be +looked down upon is necessary to all elegant society; and if the +Crickets were not black, we could not keep them down, because, as +everybody knows, they are often a great deal cleverer than we +are. They have a vast talent for music and dancing; they +are very quick at learning, and would be getting to the very top +of the ladder if we once allowed them to climb. But their +being black is a convenience; because, as long as we are green +and they black, we have a superiority that can never be taken +from us. Don’t you see now?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I see exactly,” said the colonel.</p> +<p>“Now that Keziah Cricket, who just came in here, is +quite a musician, and her old father plays the violin +beautifully;—by the way, we might engage him for our +orchestra.”</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>And so Miss Katy’s ball came off, and the performers +kept it up from sundown till daybreak, so that it seemed as if +every leaf in the forest were alive. The Katy-dids and the +Mosquitoes, and the Locusts, and a full orchestra of Crickets +made the air perfectly vibrate, insomuch that old Parson +Too-Whit, who was preaching a Thursday evening lecture to a very +small audience, announced to his hearers that he should certainly +write a discourse against dancing for the next weekly +occasion.</p> +<p>The good doctor was even with his word in the matter, and gave +out some very sonorous discourses, without in the least stopping +the round of gaieties kept up by these dissipated Katy-dids, +which ran on, night after night, till the celebrated Jack Frost +epidemic, which occurred somewhere about the first of +September.</p> +<p>Poor Miss Katy, with her flimsy green satin and point-lace, +was one of the first victims, and fell from the bough in company +with a sad shower of last year’s leaves. The worthy +Cricket family, however, avoided Jack Frost by emigrating in time +to the chimney-corner of a nice little cottage that had been +built in the wood that summer.</p> +<p>There good old Mr. and Mrs. Cricket, with sprightly Miss +Keziah and her brothers and sisters, found a warm and welcome +home; and when the storm howled without, and lashed the poor +naked trees, the Crickets on the warm hearth would chirp out +cheery welcome to papa as he came in from the snowy path, or +mamma as she sat at her work-basket.</p> +<p>“Cheep, cheep, cheep!” little Freddy would +say. “Mamma, who is it says +‘cheep’?”</p> +<p>“Dear Freddy, it’s our own dear little cricket, +who loves us and comes to sing to us when the snow is on the +ground.”</p> +<p>So when poor Miss Katy-did’s satin and lace were all +swept away, the warm home-talents of the Crickets made for them a +welcome refuge.</p> +<h2><a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +70</span><i>MOTHER MAGPIE’S MISCHIEF</i>.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Old</span> Mother Magpie was about the +busiest character in the forest. But you must know that +there is a great difference between being busy and being +industrious. One may be very busy all the time, and yet not +in the least industrious; and this was the case with Mother +Magpie.</p> +<p>She was always full of everybody’s business but her +own—up and down, here and there, everywhere but in her own +nest, knowing everyone’s affairs, telling what everybody +had been doing or ought to do, and ready to cast her advice +<i>gratis</i> at every bird and beast of the woods.</p> +<p>Now she bustled up to the parsonage at the top of the +oak-tree, to tell old Parson Too-Whit what she thought he ought +to preach for his next sermon, and how dreadful the morals of the +parish were becoming. Then, having perfectly bewildered the +poor old gentleman, who was always sleepy of a Monday morning, +Mother Magpie would take a peep into Mrs. Oriole’s nest, +sit chattering on a bough above, and pour forth floods of advice, +which, poor little Mrs. Oriole used to say to her husband, +bewildered her more than a hard north-east storm.</p> +<p>“Depend upon it, my dear,” Mother Magpie would +say, “that this way of building your nest, swinging like an +old empty stocking from a bough, isn’t at all the +thing. I never built one so in my life, and I never have +headaches. Now you complain always that your head aches +whenever I call upon you. It’s all on account of this +way of swinging and swaying about in such an absurd +manner.”</p> +<p>“But, my dear,” piped Mrs. Oriole timidly, +“the Orioles always have built in this manner, and it suits +our constitution.”</p> +<p>“A fiddle on your constitution! How can you tell +what agrees with your constitution unless you try? You own +you are not well; you are subject to headaches; and every +physician will tell you that a tilting motion disorders the +stomach and acts upon the brain. Ask old Dr. Kite. I +was talking with him about your case only yesterday, and says he, +‘Mrs. Magpie, I perfectly agree with you.’”</p> +<p>“But my husband prefers this style of +building.”</p> +<p>“That’s only because he isn’t properly +instructed. Pray, did you ever attend Dr. Kite’s +lectures on the nervous system?”</p> +<p>“No, I have no time to attend lectures. Who would +sit on the eggs?”</p> +<p>“Why, your husband, to be sure; don’t he take his +turn in sitting? If he don’t, he ought to. I +shall speak to him about it. My husband always sits +regularly half the time, that I may have time to go about and +exercise.”</p> +<p>“O Mrs. Magpie, pray don’t speak to my husband; he +will think I’ve been complaining.”</p> +<p>“No, no, he won’t. Let me alone. I +understand just how to say the thing. I’ve advised +hundreds of young husbands in my day, and I never gave +offence.”</p> +<p>“But I tell you, Mrs. Magpie, I don’t want any +interference between my husband and me, and I will not have +it,” says Mrs. Oriole, with her little round eyes flashing +with indignation.</p> +<p>“Don’t put yourself in a passion, my dear; the +more you talk, the more sure I am that your nervous system is +running down, or you wouldn’t forget good manners in this +way. You’d better take my advice, for I understand +just what to do,”—and away sails Mother Magpie; and +presently young Oriole comes home all in a flutter.</p> +<p>“I say, my dear, if you will persist in gossiping over +our private family matters with that old Mother +Magpie—”</p> +<p>“My dear, I don’t gossip. She comes and +bores me to death with talking, and then goes off and mistakes +what she has been saying for what I said.”</p> +<p>“But you must <i>cut</i> her.”</p> +<p>“I try to, all I can; but she won’t <i>be</i> +cut.”</p> +<p>“It’s enough to make a bird swear,” said +Tommy Oriole.</p> +<p>Tommy Oriole, to say the truth, had as good a heart as ever +beat under bird’s feathers; but then he had a weakness for +concerts and general society, because he was held to be, by all +odds, the handsomest bird in the woods, and sung like an angel; +and so the truth was he didn’t confine himself so much to +the domestic nest as Tom Titmouse or Billy Wren. But he +determined that he wouldn’t have old Mother Magpie +interfering with his affairs.</p> +<p>“The fact is,” quoth Tommy, “I am a society +bird, and Nature has marked out for me a course beyond the range +of the commonplace, and my wife must learn to accommodate. +If she has a brilliant husband, whose success gratifies her +ambition and places her in a distinguished public position, she +must pay something for it. I’m sure Billy +Wren’s wife would give her very bill to see her husband in +the circles where I am quite at home. To say the truth, my +wife was all well enough content till old Mother Magpie +interfered. It is quite my duty to take strong ground, and +show that I cannot be dictated to.”</p> +<p>So, after this, Tommy Oriole went to rather more concerts, and +spent less time at home than ever he did before, which was all +that Mother Magpie effected in that quarter. I confess this +was very bad in Tommy; but then birds are no better than men in +domestic matters, and sometimes will take the most unreasonable +courses, if a meddlesome Magpie gets her claw into their +nest.</p> +<p>But old Mother Magpie had now got a new business in hand in +another quarter. She bustled off down to Water-Dock Lane, +where, as we said in a former narrative, lived the old +music-teacher, Dr. Bullfrog. The poor old doctor was a +simple-minded, good, amiable creature, who had played the +double-bass and led the forest choir on all public occasions +since nobody knows when. Latterly some youngsters had +arisen who sneered at his performances as behind the age. +In fact, since a great city had grown up in the vicinity of the +forest, tribes of wandering boys broke up the simple tastes and +quiet habits which old Mother Nature had always kept up in those +parts. They pulled the young checkerberry before it even +had time to blossom, rooted up the sassafras shrubs and gnawed +their roots, fired off guns at the birds, and on several +occasions, when old Dr. Bullfrog was leading a concert, had +dashed in and broken up the choir by throwing stones.</p> +<p>This was not the worst of it. The little varlets had a +way of jeering at the simple old doctor and his concerts, and +mimicking the tones of his bass-viol. “There you go, +Paddy-go-donk, Paddy-go-donk—umph—chunk,” some +rascal of a boy would shout, while poor old Bullfrog’s +yellow spectacles would be bedewed with tears of honest +indignation. In time, the jeers of these little savages +began to tell on the society in the forest, and to corrupt their +simple manners; and it was whispered among the younger and more +heavy birds and squirrels that old Bullfrog was a bore, and that +it was time to get up a new style of music in the parish, and to +give the charge of it to some more modern performer.</p> +<p>Poor old Dr. Bullfrog knew nothing of this, however, and was +doing his simple best, in peace, when Mother Magpie called in +upon him one morning.</p> +<p>“Well, neighbour, how unreasonable people are! Who +would have thought that the youth of our generation should have +no more consideration for established merit? Now, for my +part, <i>I</i> think your music-teaching never was better; and as +for our choir, I maintain constantly that it never was in better +order, but—Well, one may wear her tongue out, but one can +never make these young folks listen to reason.”</p> +<p>“I really don’t understand you, +ma’am,” said poor Dr. Bullfrog.</p> +<p>“What! you haven’t heard of a committee that is +going to call on you, to ask you to resign the care of the parish +music?”</p> +<p>“Madam,” said Dr. Bullfrog, with all that energy +of tone for which he was remarkable, “I don’t believe +it,—I <i>can’t</i> believe it. You must have +made a mistake.”</p> +<p>“I mistake! No, no, my good friend; I never make +mistakes. What I know, I know certainly. Wasn’t +it I that said I knew there was an engagement between Tim +Chipmunk and Nancy Nibble, who are married this very day? I +knew that thing six weeks before any bird or beast in our parts; +and I can tell you, you are going to be scandalously and +ungratefully treated, Dr. Bullfrog.”</p> +<p>“Bless me, we shall all be ruined!” said Mrs. +Bullfrog; “my poor husband—”</p> +<p>“Oh, as to that, if you take things in time, and listen +to my advice,” said Mother Magpie, “we may yet pull +you through. You must alter your style a +little,—adapt it to modern times. Everybody now is a +little touched with the operatic fever, and there’s Tommy +Oriole has been to New Orleans and brought back a touch of the +artistic. If you would try his style a +little,—something Tyrolean, you see.”</p> +<p>“Dear madam, consider my voice. I never could hit +the high notes.”</p> +<p>“How do you know? It’s all practice; Tommy +Oriole says so. Just try the scales. As to your +voice, your manner of living has a great deal to do with +it. I always did tell you that your passion for water +injured your singing. Suppose Tommy Oriole should sit half +his days up to his hips in water, as you do,—his voice +would be as hoarse and rough as yours. Come up on the bank +and learn to perch, as we birds do. We are the true musical +race.”</p> +<p>And so poor Mr. Bullfrog was persuaded to forego his pleasant +little cottage under the cat-tails, where his green spectacles +and honest round back had excited, even in the minds of the boys, +sentiments of respect and compassion. He came up into the +garden, and established himself under a burdock, and began to +practise Italian scales.</p> +<p>The result was, that poor old Dr. Bullfrog, instead of being +considered as a respectable old bore, got himself universally +laughed at for aping fashionable manners. Every bird and +beast in the forest had a gibe at him; and even old Parson +Too-Whit thought it worth his while to make him a pastoral call, +and admonish him about courses unbefitting his age and +standing. As to Mother Magpie, you may be sure that she +assured every one how sorry she was that dear old Dr. Bullfrog +had made such a fool of himself; if he had taken her advice, he +would have kept on respectably as a nice old Bullfrog should.</p> +<p>But the tragedy for the poor old music-teacher grew even more +melancholy in its termination; for one day, as he was sitting +disconsolately under a currant-bush in the garden, practising his +poor old notes in a quiet way, <i>thump</i> came a great blow of +a hoe, which nearly broke his back.</p> +<p>“Hallo! what ugly beast have we got here?” said +Tom Noakes, the gardener’s boy. “Here, here, +Wasp, my boy.”</p> +<p>What a fright for a poor, quiet, old Bullfrog, as little wiry, +wicked Wasp came at him, barking and yelping. He jumped +with all his force sheer over a patch of bushes into the river, +and swam back to his old home among the cat-tails. And +always after that it was observable that he was very +low-spirited, and took very dark views of life; but nothing made +him so angry as any allusion to Mother Magpie, of whom, from that +time, he never spoke except as <i>Old Mother Mischief</i>.</p> +<h2><a name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span><i>THE +SQUIRRELS THAT LIVE IN A HOUSE</i>.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Once</span> upon a time a gentleman went +out into a great forest, and cut away the trees, and built there +a very nice little cottage. It was set very low on the +ground, and had very large bow-windows, and so much of it was +glass that one could look through it on every side and see what +was going on in the forest. You could see the shadows of +the fern-leaves, as they flickered and wavered over the ground, +and the scarlet partridge-berry and winter-green plums that +matted round the roots of the trees, and the bright spots of +sunshine that fell through their branches and went dancing about +among the bushes and leaves at their roots. You could see +the chirping sparrows and the thrushes and robins and bluebirds +building their nests here and there among the branches, and watch +them from day to day as they laid their eggs and hatched their +young. You could also see red squirrels, and gray +squirrels, and little striped chip-squirrels, darting and +springing about, here and there and everywhere, running races +with each other from bough to bough, and chattering at each other +in the gayest possible manner.</p> +<p>You may be sure that such a strange thing as a house for human +beings to live in did not come into this wild wood without making +quite a stir and excitement among the inhabitants that lived +there before. All the time it was building, there was the +greatest possible commotion in the breasts of all the older +population; and there wasn’t even a black ant, or a +cricket, that did not have his own opinion about it, and did not +tell the other ants and crickets just what he thought the world +was coming to in consequence.</p> +<p>Old Mrs. Rabbit declared that the hammering and pounding made +her nervous, and gave her most melancholy forebodings of evil +times. “Depend upon it, children,” she said to +her long-eared family, “no good will come to us from this +establishment. Where man is, there comes always trouble for +us poor rabbits.”</p> +<p>The old chestnut-tree, that grew on the edge of the woodland +ravine, drew a great sigh which shook all his leaves, and +expressed it as his conviction that no good would ever come of +it,—a conviction that at once struck to the heart of every +chestnut-burr. The squirrels talked together of the +dreadful state of things that would ensue. +“Why!” said old Father Gray, “it’s +evident that Nature made the nuts for us; but one of these great +human creatures will carry off and gormandize upon what would +keep a hundred poor families of squirrels in +comfort.” Old Ground-mole said it did not require +very sharp eyes to see into the future, and it would just end in +bringing down the price of real estate in the whole vicinity, so +that every decent-minded and respectable quadruped would be +obliged to move away;—for his part, he was ready to sell +out for anything he could get. The bluebirds and bobolinks, +it is true, took more cheerful views of matters; but then, as old +Mrs. Ground-mole observed, they were a flighty set,—half +their time careering and dissipating in the Southern +States,—and could not be expected to have that patriotic +attachment to their native soil that those had who had grubbed in +it from their earliest days.</p> +<p>“This race of man,” said the old chestnut-tree, +“is never ceasing in its restless warfare on Nature. +In our forest solitudes hitherto how peacefully, how quietly, how +regularly has everything gone on! Not a flower has missed +its appointed time of blossoming, or failed to perfect its +fruit. No matter how hard has been the winter, how loud the +winds have roared, and how high the snow-banks have been piled, +all has come right again in spring. Not the least root has +lost itself under the snows, so as not to be ready with its fresh +leaves and blossoms when the sun returns to melt the frosty +chains of winter. We have storms sometimes that threaten to +shake everything to pieces,—the thunder roars, the +lightning flashes, and the winds howl and beat; but, when all is +past, everything comes out better and brighter than +before,—not a bird is killed, not the frailest flower +destroyed. But man comes, and in one day he will make a +desolation that centuries cannot repair. Ignorant boor that +he is, and all incapable of appreciating the glorious works of +Nature, it seems to be his glory to be able to destroy in a few +hours what it was the work of ages to produce. The noble +oak, that has been cut away to build this contemptible human +dwelling, had a life older and wiser than that of any man in this +country. That tree has seen generations of men come and +go. It was a fresh young tree when Shakespeare was born; it +was hardly a middle-aged tree when he died; it was growing here +when the first ship brought the white men to our shores, and +hundreds and hundreds of those whom they call bravest, wisest, +strongest,—warriors, statesmen, orators, and +poets,—have been born, have grown up, lived, and died, +while yet it has outlived them all. It has seen more wisdom +than the best of them; but two or three hours of brutal strength +sufficed to lay it low. Which of these dolts could make a +tree? I’d like to see them do anything like it. +How noisy and clumsy are all their movements,—chopping, +pounding, rasping, hammering. And, after all, what do they +build? In the forest we do everything so quietly. A +tree would be ashamed of itself that could not get its growth +without making such a noise and dust and fuss. Our life is +the perfection of good manners. For my part, I feel +degraded at the mere presence of these human beings; but, alas! I +am old; a hollow place at my heart warns me of the progress of +decay, and probably it will be seized upon by these rapacious +creatures as an excuse for laying me as low as my noble green +brother.”</p> +<p>In spite of all this disquiet about it, the little cottage +grew and was finished. The walls were covered with pretty +paper, the floors carpeted with pretty carpets; and, in fact, +when it was all arranged, and the garden walks laid out, and beds +of flowers planted around, it began to be confessed, even among +the most critical, that it was not after all so bad a thing as +was to have been feared.</p> +<p>A black ant went in one day and made a tour of exploration up +and down, over chairs and tables, up the ceilings and down again, +and, coming out, wrote an article for the <i>Crickets’ +Gazette</i>, in which he described the new abode as a veritable +palace. Several butterflies fluttered in and sailed about +and were wonderfully delighted, and then a bumble-bee and two or +three honey-bees, who expressed themselves well pleased with the +house, but more especially enchanted with the garden. In +fact, when it was found that the proprietors were very fond of +the rural solitudes of Nature, and had come out there for the +purpose of enjoying them undisturbed; that they watched and +spared the anemones, and the violets, and bloodroots, and +dog’s-tooth violets, and little woolly rolls of fern that +began to grow up under the trees in spring; that they never +allowed a gun to be fired to scare the birds, and watched the +building of their nests with the greatest interest,—then an +opinion in favour of human beings began to gain ground, and every +cricket and bird and beast was loud in their praise.</p> +<p>“Mamma,” said young Tit-bit, a frisky young +squirrel, to his mother one day, “why won’t you let +Frisky and me go into that pretty new cottage to play?”</p> +<p>“My dear,” said his mother, who was a very wary +and careful old squirrel, “how can you think of it? +The race of man are full of devices for traps and pitfalls, and +who could say what might happen if you put yourself in their +power? If you had wings like the butterflies and bees, you +might fly in and out again, and so gratify your curiosity; but, +as matters stand, it’s best for you to keep well out of +their way.”</p> +<p>“But, mother, there is such a nice, good lady lives +there! I believe she is a good fairy, and she seems to love +us all so; she sits in the bow-window and watches us for hours, +and she scatters corn all round at the roots of the tree for us +to eat.”</p> +<p>“She is nice enough,” said the old +mother-squirrel, “if you keep far enough off; but I tell +you, you can’t be too careful.”</p> +<p>Now this good fairy that the squirrels discoursed about was a +nice little old lady that the children used to call Aunt Esther, +and she was a dear lover of birds and squirrels, and all sorts of +animals, and had studied their little ways till she knew just +what would please them; and so she would every day throw out +crumbs for the sparrows, and little bits of bread and wool and +cotton to help the birds that were building their nests, and +would scatter corn and nuts for the squirrels; and while she sat +at her work in the bow-window she would smile to see the birds +flying away with the wool, and the squirrels nibbling their +nuts. After a while the birds grew so tame that they would +hop into the bow-window and eat their crumbs off the carpet.</p> +<p>“There, mamma,” said Tit-bit and Frisky, +“only see Jenny Wren and Cock Robin have been in at the +bow-window, and it didn’t hurt them, and why can’t we +go?”</p> +<p>“Well, my dears,” said old Mother Squirrel, +“you must do it very carefully; never forget that you +haven’t wings like Jenny Wren and Cock Robin.”</p> +<p>So the next day Aunt Esther laid a train of corn from the +roots of the trees to the bow-window, and then from the +bow-window to her work-basket, which stood on the floor beside +her; and then she put quite a handful of corn in the work-basket, +and sat down by it, and seemed intent on her sewing. Very +soon, creep, creep, creep, came Tit-bit and Frisky to the window, +and then into the room, just as sly and as still as could be, and +Aunt Esther sat just like a statue for fear of disturbing +them. They looked all around in high glee, and when they +came to the basket it seemed to them a wonderful little +summer-house, made on purpose for them to play in. They +nosed about in it, and turned over the scissors and the +needle-book, and took a nibble at her white wax, and jostled the +spools, meanwhile stowing away the corn on each side of their +little chops, till they both of them looked as if they had the +mumps.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a name="image89" href="images/p89b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Venturous Squirrels" +title= +"Venturous Squirrels" + src="images/p89s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>At last Aunt Esther put out her hand to touch them, when, +whisk-frisk, out they went, and up the trees, chattering and +laughing before she had time even to wink.</p> +<p>But after this they used to come in every day, and when she +put corn in her hand and held it very still they would eat out of +it; and finally they would get into her hand, until one day she +gently closed it over them, and Frisky and Tit-bit were fairly +caught.</p> +<p>Oh, how their hearts beat! but the good fairy only spoke +gently to them, and soon unclosed her hand and let them go +again. So day after day they grew to have more and more +faith in her, till they would climb into her work-basket, sit on +her shoulder, or nestle away in her lap as she sat sewing. +They made also long exploring voyages all over the house, up and +through all the chambers, till finally, I grieve to say, poor +Frisky came to an untimely end by being drowned in the water-tank +at the top of the house.</p> +<p>The dear good fairy passed away from the house in time, and +went to a land where the flowers never fade and the birds never +die; but the squirrels still continue to make the place a +favourite resort.</p> +<p>“In fact, my dear,” said old Mother Red one winter +to her mate, “what is the use of one’s living in this +cold, hollow tree, when these amiable people have erected this +pretty cottage, where there is plenty of room for us and them +too? Now I have examined between the eaves, and there is a +charming place where we can store our nuts, and where we can whip +in and out of the garret, and have the free range of the house; +and, say what you will, these humans have delightful ways of +being warm and comfortable in winter.”</p> +<p>So Mr. and Mrs. Red set up housekeeping in the cottage, and +had no end of nuts and other good things stored up there. +The trouble of all this was, that, as Mrs. Red was a notable +body, and got up to begin her housekeeping operations, and woke +up all her children, at four o’clock in the morning, the +good people often were disturbed by a great rattling and fuss in +the walls, while yet it seemed dark night. Then sometimes, +too, I grieve to say, Mrs. Squirrel would give her husband +vigorous curtain lectures in the night, which made him so +indignant that he would rattle off to another quarter of the +garret to sleep by himself; and all this broke the rest of the +worthy people who built the house.</p> +<p>What is to be done about this we don’t know. What +would you do about it? Would you let the squirrels live in +your house or not? When our good people come down of a cold +winter morning, and see the squirrels dancing and frisking down +the trees, and chasing each other so merrily over the garden +chair between them, or sitting with their tails saucily over +their backs, they look so jolly and jaunty and pretty that they +almost forgive them for disturbing their night’s rest, and +think that they will not do anything to drive them out of the +garret to-day. And so it goes on; but how long the +squirrels will rent the cottage in this fashion, I’m sure I +dare not undertake to say.</p> +<h2><a name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +93</span><i>HUM</i>, <i>THE SON OF BUZ</i>.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">At</span> Rye Beach, during our +summer’s vacation, there came, as there always will to +seaside visitors, two or three cold, chilly, rainy +days,—days when the skies that long had not rained a drop +seemed suddenly to bethink themselves of their remissness, and to +pour down water, not by drops, but by pailfuls. The chilly +wind blew and whistled, the water dashed along the ground and +careered in foamy rills along the roadside, and the bushes bent +beneath the constant flood. It was plain that there was to +be no sea-bathing on such a day, no walks, no rides; and so, +shivering and drawing our blanket-shawls close about us, we sat +down at the window to watch the storm outside.</p> +<p>The rose-bushes under the window hung dripping under their +load of moisture, each spray shedding a constant shower on the +spray below it. On one of these lower sprays, under the +perpetual drip, what should we see but a poor little +humming-bird, drawn up into the tiniest shivering ball, and +clinging with a desperate grasp to his uncomfortable perch. +A humming-bird we knew him to be at once, though his feathers +were so matted and glued down by the rain that he looked not much +bigger than a honey-bee, and as different as possible from the +smart, pert, airy little character that we had so often seen +flirting with the flowers. He was evidently a humming-bird +in adversity, and whether he ever would hum again looked to us +exceedingly doubtful. Immediately, however, we sent out to +have him taken in. When the friendly hand seized him, he +gave a little, faint, watery squeak, evidently thinking that his +last hour was come, and that grim death was about to carry him +off to the land of dead birds. What a time we had reviving +him,—holding the little wet thing in the warm hollow of our +hands, and feeling him shiver and palpitate! His eyes were +fast closed; his tiny claws, which looked slender as cobwebs, +were knotted close to his body, and it was long before one could +feel the least motion in them. Finally, to our great joy, +we felt a brisk little kick, and then a flutter of wings, and +then a determined peck of the beak, which showed that there was +some bird left in him yet, and that he meant at any rate to find +out where he was.</p> +<p>Unclosing our hands a small space, out popped the little head +with a pair of round brilliant eyes. Then we bethought +ourselves of feeding him, and forthwith prepared him a stiff +glass of sugar and water, a drop of which we held to his +bill. After turning his head attentively, like a bird who +knew what he was about and didn’t mean to be chaffed, he +briskly put out a long, flexible tongue, slightly forked at the +end, and licked off the comfortable beverage with great +relish. Immediately he was pronounced out of danger by the +small humane society which had undertaken the charge of his +restoration, and we began to cast about for getting him a settled +establishment in our apartment. I gave up my work-box to +him for a sleeping-room, and it was medically ordered that he +should take a nap. So we filled the box with cotton, and he +was formally put to bed, with a folded cambric handkerchief round +his neck, to keep him from beating his wings. Out of his +white wrappings he looked forth green and grave as any judge with +his bright round eyes. Like a bird of discretion, he seemed +to understand what was being done to him, and resigned himself +sensibly to go to sleep.</p> +<p>The box was covered with a sheet of paper perforated with +holes for purposes of ventilation; for even humming-birds have a +little pair of lungs, and need their own little portion of air to +fill them, so that they may make bright scarlet little drops of +blood to keep life’s fire burning in their tiny +bodies. Our bird’s lungs manufactured brilliant +blood, as we found out by experience; for in his first nap he +contrived to nestle himself into the cotton of which his bed was +made, and to get more of it than he needed into his long +bill. We pulled it out as carefully as we could, but there +came out of his bill two round, bright scarlet, little drops of +blood. Our chief medical authority looked grave, pronounced +a probable hemorrhage from the lungs, and gave him over at +once. We, less scientific, declared that we had only cut +his little tongue by drawing out the filaments of cotton, and +that he would do well enough in time,—as it afterwards +appeared he did, for from that day there was no more +bleeding. In the course of the second day he began to take +short flights about the room, though he seemed to prefer to +return to us; perching on our fingers or heads or shoulders, and +sometimes choosing to sit in this way for half an hour at a +time. “These great giants,” he seemed to say to +himself, “are not bad people after all; they have a +comfortable way with them; how nicely they dried and warmed +me! Truly a bird might do worse than to live with +them.”</p> +<p>So he made up his mind to form a fourth in the little company +of three that usually sat and read, worked and sketched, in that +apartment, and we christened him “Hum, the son of +Buz.” He became an individuality, a character, whose +little doings formed a part of every letter, and some extracts +from these will show what some of his little ways +were:—</p> +<p>“Hum has learned to sit upon my finger, and eat his +sugar and water out of a teaspoon with most Christian-like +decorum. He has but one weakness—he will occasionally +jump into the spoon and sit in his sugar and water, and then +appear to wonder where it goes to. His plumage is in rather +a drabbled state, owing to these performances. I have +sketched him as he sat to-day on a bit of Spiræa which I +brought in for him. When absorbed in reflection, he sits +with his bill straight up in the air, as I have drawn him. +Mr. A— reads Macaulay to us, and you should see the wise +air with which, perched on Jenny’s thumb, he cocked his +head now one side and then the other, apparently listening with +most critical attention. His confidence in us seems +unbounded: he lets us stroke his head, smooth his feathers, +without a flutter; and is never better pleased than when sitting, +as he has been doing all this while, on my hand, turning up his +bill, and watching my face with great edification.</p> +<p>“I have just been having a sort of maternal struggle to +make him go to bed in his box; but he evidently considers himself +sufficiently convalescent to make a stand for his rights as a +bird, and so scratched indignantly out of his wrappings, and set +himself up to roost on the edge of the box, with an air worthy of +a turkey, at the very least. Having brought in a lamp, he +has opened his eyes round and wide, and sits cocking his little +head at me reflectively.”</p> +<p>When the weather cleared away, and the sun came out bright, +Hum became entirely well, and seemed resolved to take the measure +of his new life with us. Our windows were closed in the +lower part of the sash by frames with mosquito gauze, so that the +sun and air found free admission, and yet our little rover could +not pass out. On the first sunny day he took an exact +survey of our apartment from ceiling to floor, humming about, +examining every point with his bill—all the crevices, +mouldings, each little indentation in the bed-posts, each +window-pane, each chair and stand; and, as it was a very simply +furnished seaside apartment, his scrutiny was soon +finished. We wondered at first what this was all about; but +on watching him more closely, we found that he was actively +engaged in getting his living, by darting out his long tongue +hither and thither, and drawing in all the tiny flies and insects +which in summer time are to be found in an apartment. In +short, we found that, though the nectar of flowers was his +dessert, yet he had his roast beef and mutton-chop to look after, +and that his bright, brilliant blood was not made out of a simple +vegetarian diet. Very shrewd and keen he was, too, in +measuring the size of insects before he attempted to swallow +them. The smallest class were whisked off with lightning +speed; but about larger ones he would sometimes wheel and hum for +some minutes, darting hither and thither, and surveying them +warily, and if satisfied that they could be carried, he would +come down with a quick, central dart which would finish the +unfortunate at a snap. The larger flies seemed to irritate +him, especially when they intimated to him that his plumage was +sugary, by settling on his wings and tail; when he would lay +about him spitefully, wielding his bill like a sword. A +grasshopper that strayed in, and was sunning himself on the +window-seat, gave him great discomposure. Hum evidently +considered him an intruder, and seemed to long to make a dive at +him; but, with characteristic prudence, confined himself to +threatening movements, which did not exactly hit. He saw +evidently that he could not swallow him whole, and what might +ensue from trying him piecemeal he wisely forbore to essay.</p> +<p>Hum had his own favourite places and perches. From the +first day he chose for his nightly roost a towel-line which had +been drawn across the corner over the wash-stand, where he every +night established himself with one claw in the edge of the towel +and the other clasping the line, and, ruffling up his feathers +till he looked like a little chestnut-burr, he would resign +himself to the soundest sleep. He did not tuck his head +under his wing, but seemed to sink it down between his shoulders, +with his bill almost straight up in the air. One evening +one of us, going to use the towel, jarred the line, and soon +after found that Hum had been thrown from his perch, and was +hanging head downward, fast asleep, still clinging to the +line. Another evening, being discomposed by somebody coming +to the towel-line after he had settled himself, he fluttered off; +but so sleepy that he had not discretion to poise himself again, +and was found clinging, like a little bunch of green floss silk, +to the mosquito netting of the window.</p> +<p>A day after this we brought in a large green bough, and put it +up over the looking-glass. Hum noticed it before it had +been there five minutes, flew to it, and began a regular survey, +perching now here, now there, till he seemed to find a twig that +exactly suited him; and after that he roosted there every +night. Who does not see in this change all the signs of +reflection and reason that are shown by us in thinking over our +circumstances, and trying to better them? It seemed to say +in so many words: “That towel-line is an unsafe place for a +bird; I get frightened, and wake from bad dreams to find myself +head downwards; so I will find a better roost on this +twig.”</p> +<p>When our little Jenny one day put on a clean white muslin gown +embellished with red sprigs, Hum flew towards her, and with his +bill made instant examination of these new appearances; and one +day, being very affectionately disposed, perched himself on her +shoulder, and sat some time. On another occasion, while Mr. +A was reading, Hum established himself on the top of his head +just over the middle of his forehead, in the precise place where +our young belles have lately worn stuffed humming-birds, making +him look as if dressed out for a party. Hum’s most +favourite perch was the back of the great rocking-chair, which, +being covered by a tidy, gave some hold into which he could catch +his little claws. There he would sit, balancing himself +cleverly if its occupant chose to swing to and fro, and seeming +to be listening to the conversation or reading.</p> +<p>Hum had his different moods, like human beings. On cold, +cloudy, gray days he appeared to be somewhat depressed in +spirits, hummed less about the room, and sat humped up with his +feathers ruffled, looking as much like a bird in a great-coat as +possible. But on hot, sunny days, every feather sleeked +itself down, and his little body looked natty and trim, his head +alert, his eyes bright, and it was impossible to come near him, +for his agility. Then let mosquitoes and little flies look +about them! Hum snapped them up without mercy, and seemed +to be all over the ceiling in a moment, and resisted all our +efforts at any personal familiarity with a saucy alacrity.</p> +<p>Hum had his established institutions in our room, the chief of +which was a tumbler with a little sugar and water mixed in it, +and a spoon laid across, out of which he helped himself whenever +he felt in the mood—sitting on the edge of the tumbler, and +dipping his long bill, and lapping with his little forked tongue +like a kitten. When he found his spoon accidentally dry, he +would stoop over and dip his bill in the water in the tumbler; +which caused the prophecy on the part of some of his guardians +that he would fall in some—day and be drowned. For +which reason it was agreed to keep only an inch in depth of the +fluid at the bottom of the tumbler. A wise precaution this +proved; for the next morning I was awaked, not by the usual hum +over my head, but by a sharp little flutter, and found Mr. Hum +beating his wings in the tumbler—having actually tumbled in +during his energetic efforts to get his morning coffee before I +was awake.</p> +<p>Hum seemed perfectly happy and satisfied in his quarters; but +one day, when the door was left open, he made a dart out, and so +into the open sunshine. Then, to be sure, we thought we had +lost him. We took the mosquito netting, out of all the +windows, and, setting his tumbler of sugar and water in a +conspicuous place, went about our usual occupations. We saw +him joyous and brisk among the honeysuckles outside the window, +and it was gravely predicted that he would return no more. +But at dinner-time in came Hum, familiar as possible, and sat +down to his spoon as if nothing had happened. Instantly we +closed our windows and had him secure once more.</p> +<p>At another time I was going to ride to the Atlantic House, +about a mile from my boarding-place. I left all secure, as +I supposed, at home. While gathering moss on the walls +there, I was surprised by a little green humming-bird flying +familiarly right towards my face and humming above my head. +I called out, “Here is Hum’s very +brother.” But, on returning home, I saw that the door +of the room was open, and Hum was gone. Now certainly we +gave him up for lost. I sat down to painting, and in a few +minutes in flew Hum, and settled on the edge of my tumbler in a +social, confidential way, which seemed to say, “Oh, +you’ve got back then.” After taking his usual +drink of sugar and water, he began to fly about the ceiling as +usual, and we gladly shut him in.</p> +<p>When our five weeks at the seaside were up, and it was time to +go home, we had great questionings what was to be done with +Hum. To get him home with us was our desire; but who ever +heard of a humming-bird travelling by railroad? Great were +the consultings. A little basket of Indian work was filled +up with cambric handkerchiefs, and a bottle of sugar and water +provided, and we started with him for a day’s +journey. When we arrived at night the first care was to see +what had become of Hum, who had not been looked at since we fed +him with sugar and water in Boston. We found him alive and +well, but so dead asleep that we could not wake him to roost; so +we put him to bed on a toilet cushion, and arranged his tumbler +for morning. The next day found him alive and humming, +exploring the room and pictures, perching now here and now there; +but as the weather was chilly, he sat for the most part of the +time in a humped-up state on the tip of a pair of stag’s +horns. We moved him to a more sunny apartment; but, alas! +the equinoctial storm came on, and there was no sun to be had for +days. Hum was blue; the pleasant seaside days were over; +his room was lonely, the pleasant three that had enlivened the +apartment at Rye no longer came in and out; evidently he was +lonesome, and gave way to depression. One chilly morning he +managed again to fall into his tumbler, and wet himself through; +and notwithstanding warm bathings and tender nursings, the poor +little fellow seemed to get diphtheria, or something quite as bad +for humming-birds.</p> +<p>We carried him to a neighbouring sunny parlour, where ivy +embowers all the walls and the sun lies all day. There he +revived a little, danced up and down, perched on a green spray +that was wreathed across the breast of a Psyche, and looked then +like a little flitting soul returning to its rest. Towards +evening he drooped; and, having been nursed and warmed and cared +for, he was put to sleep on a green twig laid on the piano. +In that sleep the little head drooped—nodded—fell; +and little Hum went where other bright dreams go—to the +Land of the Hereafter.</p> +<h2><a name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +106</span><i>OUR COUNTRY NEIGHBOURS</i>.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> have just built our house in +rather an out-of-the-way place—on the bank of a river, and +under the shade of a patch of woods which is a veritable remain +of quite an ancient forest. The checkerberry and +partridge-plum, with their glossy green leaves and scarlet +berries, still carpet the ground under its deep shadows; and +prince’s-pine and other kindred evergreens declare its +native wildness,—for these are children of the wild woods, +that never come after plough and harrow have once broken a +soil.</p> +<p>When we tried to look out the spot for our house, we had to +get a surveyor to go before us and cut a path through the dense +underbrush that was laced together in a general network of boughs +and leaves, and grew so high as to overtop our heads. Where +the house stands, four or five great old oaks and chestnuts had +to be cut away to let it in; and now it stands on the bank of the +river, the edges of which are still overhung with old +forest-trees, chestnuts and oaks, which look at themselves in the +glassy stream.</p> +<p>A little knoll near the house was chosen for a garden-spot; a +dense, dark mass of trees above, of bushes in mid-air, and of all +sorts of ferns and wild-flowers and creeping vines on the +ground. All these had to be cleared out, and a dozen great +trees cut down and dragged off to a neighbouring saw-mill, there +to be transformed into boards to finish off our house. +Then, fetching a great machine, such as might be used to pull a +giant’s teeth, with ropes, pulleys, oxen, and men, and +might and main, we pulled out the stumps, with their great prongs +and their network of roots and fibres; and then, alas! we had to +begin with all the pretty wild, lovely bushes, and the +checkerberries and ferns and wild blackberries and +huckleberry-bushes, and dig them up remorselessly, that we might +plant our corn and squashes. And so we got a house and a +garden right out of the heart of our piece of wild wood, about a +mile from the city of H-.</p> +<p>Well, then, people said it was a lonely place, and far from +neighbours,—by which they meant that it was a good way for +them to come to see us. But we soon found that whoever goes +into the woods to live finds neighbours of a new kind, and some +to whom it is rather hard to become accustomed.</p> +<p>For instance, on a fine day early in April, as we were +crossing over to superintend the building of our house, we were +startled by a striped snake, with his little bright eyes, raising +himself to look at us, and putting out his red, forked +tongue. Now there is no more harm in these little +garden-snakes than there is in a robin or a squirrel—they +are poor little, peaceable, timid creatures, which could not do +any harm if they would; but the prejudices of society are so +strong against them that one does not like to cultivate too much +intimacy with them. So we tried to turn out of our path +into a tangle of bushes; and there, instead of one, we found four +snakes. We turned on the other side, and there were two +more. In short, everywhere we looked, the dry leaves were +rustling and coiling with them; and we were in despair. In +vain we said that they were harmless as kittens, and tried to +persuade ourselves that their little bright eyes were pretty, and +that their serpentine movements were in the exact line of beauty: +for the life of us, we could not help remembering their family +name and connections; we thought of those disagreeable gentlemen +the anacondas, the rattlesnakes, and the copper-heads, and all of +that bad line, immediate family friends of the old serpent to +whom we are indebted for all the mischief that is done in this +world. So we were quite apprehensive when we saw how our +new neighbourhood was infested by them, until a neighbour calmed +our fears by telling us that snakes always crawled out of their +holes to sun themselves in the spring, and that in a day or two +they would all be gone.</p> +<p>So it proved. It was evident they were all out merely to +do their spring shopping, or something that serves with them the +same purpose that spring shopping does with us; and where they +went afterwards we do not know. People speak of +snakes’ holes, and we have seen them disappearing into such +subterranean chambers; but we never opened one to see what sort +of underground housekeeping went on there. After the first +few days of spring, a snake was a rare visitor, though now and +then one appeared.</p> +<p>One was discovered taking his noontide repast one day in a +manner which excited much prejudice. He was, in fact, +regaling himself by sucking down into his maw a small frog, which +he had begun to swallow at the toes, and had drawn about half +down. The frog, it must be confessed, seemed to view this +arrangement with great indifference, making no struggle, and +sitting solemnly, with his great unwinking eyes, to be sucked in +at the leisure of his captor. There was immense sympathy, +however, excited for him in the family circle; and it was voted +that a snake which indulged in such very disagreeable modes of +eating his dinner was not to be tolerated in our vicinity. +So I have reason to believe that that was his last meal.</p> +<p>Another of our wild woodland neighbours made us some +trouble. It was no other than a veritable woodchuck, whose +hole we had often wondered at when we were scrambling through the +underbrush after spring flowers. The hole was about the +size of a peck-measure, and had two openings about six feet +apart. The occupant was a gentleman we never had had the +pleasure of seeing, but we soon learned his existence from his +ravages in our garden. He had a taste, it appears, for the +very kind of things we wanted to eat ourselves, and helped +himself without asking. We had a row of fine, crisp heads +of lettuce, which were the pride of our gardening, and out of +which he would from day to day select for his table just the +plants we had marked for ours. He also nibbled our young +beans; and so at last we were reluctantly obliged to let John +Gardiner set a trap for him. Poor old simple-minded hermit, +he was too artless for this world! He was caught at the +very first snap, and found dead in the trap,—the agitation +and distress having broken his poor woodland heart, and killed +him. We were grieved to the very soul when the poor fat old +fellow was dragged out, with his useless paws standing up stiff +and imploring. As it was, he was given to Denis, our pig, +which, without a single scruple of delicacy, ate him up as +thoroughly as he ate up the lettuce.</p> +<p>This business of eating, it appears, must go on all through +creation. We eat ducks, turkeys, and chickens, though we +don’t swallow them whole, feathers and all. Our +four-footed friends, less civilized, take things with more +directness and simplicity, and chew each other up without +ceremony, or swallow each other alive. Of these +unceremonious habits we had other instances.</p> +<p>Our house had a central court on the southern side, into which +looked the library, dining-room, and front hall, as well as +several of the upper chambers. It was designed to be closed +in with glass, to serve as a conservatory in winter; and +meanwhile we had filled it with splendid plumy ferns, taken up +out of the neighbouring wood. In the centre was a fountain +surrounded by stones, shells, mosses, and various +water-plants. We had bought three little goldfish to swim +in our basin; and the spray of it, as it rose in the air and +rippled back into the water, was the pleasantest possible sound +of a hot day. We used to lie on the sofa in the hall, and +look into the court, and fancy we saw some scene of fairy-land, +and water-sprites coming up from the fountain. Suddenly a +new-comer presented himself,—no other than an immense +bull-frog, that had hopped up from the neighbouring river, +apparently with a view to making a permanent settlement in and +about our fountain. He was to be seen, often for hours, +sitting reflectively on the edge of it, beneath the broad shadow +of the calla-leaves. When sometimes missed thence, he would +be found under the ample shield of a great bignonia, whose +striped leaves grew hard by.</p> +<p>The family were prejudiced against him. What did he want +there? It was surely some sinister motive impelled +him. He was probably watching for an opportunity to gobble +up the goldfish. We took his part, however, and strenuously +defended his moral character, and patronized him in all +ways. We gave him the name of Unke, and maintained that he +was a well-conducted, philosophical old water-sprite, who showed +his good taste in wanting to take up his abode in our +conservatory. We even defended his personal appearance, +praised the invisible-green coat which he wore on his back, and +his gray vest, and solemn gold spectacles; and though he always +felt remarkably slimy when we touched him, yet, as he would sit +still and allow us to stroke his head and pat his back, we +concluded his social feelings might be warm, notwithstanding a +cold exterior. Who knew, after all, but he might be a +beautiful young prince, enchanted there till the princess should +come to drop the golden ball into the fountain, and so give him a +chance to marry her and turn into a man again? Such things, +we are credibly informed, are matters of frequent occurrence in +Germany. Why not here?</p> +<p>By-and-by there came to our fountain another visitor,—a +frisky, green young frog of the identical kind spoken of by the +poet:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“There was a frog lived in a well,<br /> +Rig dum pully metakimo.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This thoughtless, dapper individual, with his bright green +coat, his faultless white vest, and sea-green tights, became +rather the popular favourite. He seemed just rakish and +gallant enough to fulfil the conditions of the song:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“The frog he would a-courting ride,<br /> +With sword and pistol by his side.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This lively young fellow, whom we shall call Cri-Cri, like +other frisky and gay young people, carried the day quite over the +head of the solemn old philosopher under the calla-leaves. +At night, when all was still, he would trill a joyous little note +in his throat, while old Unke would answer only with a cracked +guttural more singular than agreeable; and to all outward +appearance the two were as good friends as their different +natures would allow.</p> +<p>One day, however, the conservatory became the scene of a +tragedy of the deepest dye. We were summoned below by +shrieks and howls of horror. “Do pray come down and +see what this vile, nasty, horrid old frog has been +doing!” Down we came; and there sat our virtuous old +philosopher, with his poor little brother’s hind legs still +sticking out of the corner of his mouth, as if he were smoking +them for a cigar, all helplessly palpitating as they were. +In fact, our solemn old friend had done what many a solemn +hypocrite before has done,—swallowed his poor brother, neck +and crop,—and sat there with the most brazen indifference, +looking as if he had done the most proper and virtuous thing in +the world.</p> +<p>Immediately he was marched out of the conservatory at the +point of a walking-stick, and made to hop down to the river, into +whose waters he splashed, and we saw him no more. We regret +to say that the popular indignation was so precipitate in its +results; otherwise the special artist who sketched Hum, the son +of Buz, intended to have made a sketch of the old villain, as he +sat with his luckless victim’s hind legs projecting from +his solemn mouth. With all his moral faults, he was a good +sitter, and would probably have sat immovable any length of time +that could be desired.</p> +<p>Of other woodland neighbours there were some which we saw +occasionally. The shores of the river were lined here and +there with the holes of the muskrats; and in rowing by their +settlements, we were sometimes strongly reminded of them by the +overpowering odour of the perfume from which they get their +name. There were also owls, whose nests were high up in +some of the old chestnut-trees. Often in the lonely hours +of the night we could hear them gibbering with a sort of wild, +hollow laugh among the distant trees. But one tenant of the +woods made us some trouble in the autumn. It was a little +flying-squirrel, who took to making excursions into our house in +the night season, coming down the chimney into the chambers, +rustling about among the clothes, cracking nuts or nibbling at +any morsels of anything that suited his fancy. For a long +time the inmates of the rooms were awakened in the night by +mysterious noises, thumps, and rappings, and so lighted candles, +and searched in vain to find whence they came; for the moment any +movement was made, the rogue whipped up the chimney, and left us +a prey to the most mysterious alarms. What could it be?</p> +<p>But one night our fine gentleman bounced in at the window of +another room, which had no fireplace; and the fair occupant, +rising in the night, shut the window, without suspecting that she +had cut off the retreat of any of her woodland neighbours. +The next morning she was startled by what she thought a gray rat +running past her bed. She rose to pursue him, when he ran +up the wall, and clung against the plastering, showing himself +very plainly a gray flying-squirrel, with large, soft eyes, and +wings which consisted of a membrane uniting the fore paws to the +hind ones, like those of a bat. He was chased into the +conservatory, and a window being opened, out he flew upon the +ground, and made away for his native woods, and thus put an end +to many fears as to the nature of our nocturnal rappings.</p> +<p>So you see how many neighbours we found by living in the +woods, and, after all, no worse ones than are found in the great +world.</p> +<h2><a name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +117</span><i>THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF LITTLE WHISKEY</i>.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> now, at the last, I am going to +tell you something of the ways and doings of one of the queer +little people, whom I shall call Whiskey.</p> +<p>You cannot imagine how pretty he is. His back has the +most beautiful smooth shining stripes of reddish brown and black, +his eyes shine like bright glass beads, and he sits up jauntily +on his hind quarters, with his little tail thrown over his back +like a ruffle.</p> +<p>And where does he live? Well, “that is +telling,” as we children say. It was somewhere up in +the mountains of Berkshire, in a queer, quaint, old-fashioned +garden, that I made Mr. Whiskey’s acquaintance.</p> +<p>Here there lives a young parson, who preaches every Sunday in +a little brown church, and during week-days goes through all +these hills and valleys, visiting the poor, and gathering +children into Sunday schools.</p> +<p>His wife is a very small-sized lady—not much bigger than +you, my little Mary—but very fond of all sorts of dumb +animals; and by constantly watching their actions and ways, she +has come to have quite a strange power over them, as I shall +relate.</p> +<p>The little lady fixed her mind on Whiskey, and gave him his +name without consulting him upon the subject. She admired +his bright eyes, and resolved to cultivate his acquaintance.</p> +<p>By constant watching, she discovered that he had a small hole +of his own in the grass-plot a few paces from her +back-door. So she used to fill her pocket with hazel-nuts, +and go out and sit in the back porch, and make a little noise, +such as squirrels make to each other, to attract his +attention.</p> +<p>In a minute or two up would pop the little head with the +bright eyes, in the grass-plot, and Master Whiskey would sit on +his haunches and listen, with one small ear cocked towards +her. Then she would throw him a hazel-nut, and he would +slip instantly down into his hole again. In a minute or +two, however, his curiosity would get the better of his prudence; +and she, sitting quiet, would see the little brown-striped head +slowly, slowly coming up again, over the tiny green spikes of the +grass-plot. Quick as a flash he would dart at the nut, +whisk it into a little bag on one side of his jaws, which Madam +Nature has furnished him with for his provision-pouch, and down +into his hole again. An ungrateful, suspicious little brute +he was too; for though in this way he bagged and carried off nut +after nut, until the patient little woman had used up a pound of +hazel-nuts, still he seemed to have the same wild fright at sight +of her, and would whisk off and hide himself in his hole the +moment she appeared. In vain she called, “Whiskey, +Whiskey, Whiskey,” in the most flattering tones; in vain +she coaxed and cajoled. No, no; he was not to be caught +napping. He had no objection to accepting her nuts, as many +as she chose to throw to him; but as to her taking any personal +liberty with him, you see, it was by no means to be thought +of.</p> +<p>But at last patience and perseverance began to have their +reward. Little Master Whiskey said to himself, +“Surely this is a nice, kind lady, to take so much pains to +give me nuts; she is certainly very considerate;” and with +that he edged a little nearer and nearer every day, until, quite +to the delight of the small lady, he would come and climb into +her lap and seize the nuts, when she rattled them there, and +after that he seemed to make exploring voyages all over her +person. He would climb up and sit on her shoulder; he would +mount and perch himself on her head; and when she held a nut for +him between her teeth, he would take it out of her mouth.</p> +<p>After a while he began to make tours of discovery in the +house. He would suddenly appear on the minister’s +writing-table when he was composing his Sunday sermon, and sit +cocking his little pert head at him, seeming to wonder what he +was about. But in all his explorations he proved himself a +true Yankee squirrel, having always a shrewd eye on the main +chance. If the parson dropped a nut on the floor, down went +Whiskey after it, and into his provision-bag it went, and then he +would look up as if he expected another; for he had a wallet on +each side of his jaws, and he always wanted both sides handsomely +filled before he made for his hole. So busy and active and +always intent on this one object was he, that before long the +little lady found he had made way with six pounds of +hazel-nuts. His general rule was to carry off four nuts at +a time—three being stuffed into the side-pockets of his +jaws, and the fourth held in his teeth. When he had +furnished himself in this way, he would dart like lightning for +his hole, and disappear in a moment; but in a short time up he +would come, brisk and wide-awake, and ready for the next +supply.</p> +<p>Once a person who had the curiosity to dig open a chipping +squirrel’s hole found in it two quarts of buckwheat, a +quantity of grass-seed, nearly a peck of acorns, some Indian +corn, and a quart of walnuts; a pretty handsome supply for a +squirrel’s winter store-room—don’t you think +so?</p> +<p>Whiskey learned in time to work for his living in many artful +ways that his young mistress devised. Sometimes she would +tie his nuts up in a paper package, which he would attack with +great energy, gnawing the strings, and rustling the nuts out of +the paper in wonderfully quick time. Sometimes she would +tie a nut to the end of a bit of twine and swing it backward and +forward over his head; and after a succession of spry jumps, he +would pounce upon it, and hang swinging on the twine, till he had +gnawed the nut away.</p> +<p>Another squirrel, doubtless hearing of Whiskey’s good +luck, began to haunt the same yard; but Whiskey would by no means +allow him to cultivate his young mistress’s +acquaintance. No indeed! he evidently considered that the +institution would not support two. Sometimes he would +appear to be conversing with the stranger on the most familiar +and amicable terms in the back-yard; but if his mistress called +his name, he would immediately start and chase his companion +quite out of sight, before he came back to her.</p> +<p>So you see that self-seeking is not confined to men alone, and +that Whiskey’s fine little fur coat covers a very selfish +heart.</p> +<p>As winter comes on, Whiskey will go down into his hole, which +has many long galleries and winding passages, and a snug little +bedroom well lined with leaves. Here he will doze and dream +away his long winter months, and nibble out the inside of his +store of nuts.</p> +<p>If I hear any more of his cunning tricks, I will tell you of +them.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEER LITTLE FOLKS***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 2486-h.htm or 2486-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/8/2486 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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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Wheeler. + + + + + +QUEER LITTLE FOLKS + + + + +Contents: + +Hen that Hatched Ducks +The Nutcrackers of Nutcracker Lodge +The History of Tip-Top +Miss Katy-Did and Miss Cricket +Mother Magpie's Mischief +The Squirrels that live in a House +Hum, the Son of Buz +Our Country Neighbours +The Diverting History of Little Whiskey + + + +HEN THAT HATCHED DUCKS + + + +Once there was a nice young hen that we will call Mrs. Feathertop. +She was a hen of most excellent family, being a direct descendant of +the Bolton Grays, and as pretty a young fowl as you could wish to see +of a summer's day. She was, moreover, as fortunately situated in +life as it was possible for a hen to be. She was bought by young +Master Fred Little John, with four or five family connections of +hers, and a lively young cock, who was held to be as brisk a +scratcher and as capable a head of a family as any half-dozen +sensible hens could desire. + +I can't say that at first Mrs. Feathertop was a very sensible hen. +She was very pretty and lively, to be sure, and a great favourite +with Master Bolton Gray Cock, on account of her bright eyes, her +finely shaded feathers, and certain saucy dashing ways that she had +which seemed greatly to take his fancy. But old Mrs. Scratchard, +living in the neighbouring yard, assured all the neighbourhood that +Gray Cock was a fool for thinking so much of that flighty young +thing; THAT she had not the smallest notion how to get on in life, +and thought of nothing in the world but her own pretty feathers. +"Wait till she comes to have chickens," said Mrs. Scratchard; "then +you will see. I have brought up ten broods myself--as likely and +respectable chickens as ever were a blessing to society--and I think +I ought to know a good hatcher and brooder when I see her; and I know +THAT fine piece of trumpery, with her white feathers tipped with +gray, never will come down to family life. SHE scratch for chickens! +Bless me, she never did anything in all her days but run round and +eat the worms which somebody else scratched up for her." + +When Master Bolton Gray heard this he crowed very loudly, like a cock +of spirit, and declared that old Mrs. Scratchard was envious, because +she had lost all her own tail-feathers, and looked more like a worn- +out old feather-duster than a respectable hen, and that therefore she +was filled with sheer envy of anybody that was young and pretty. So +young Mrs. Feathertop cackled gay defiance at her busy rubbishy +neighbour, as she sunned herself under the bushes on fine June +afternoons. + +Now Master Fred Little John had been allowed to have these hens by +his mamma on the condition that he would build their house himself, +and take all the care of it; and to do Master Fred justice, he +executed the job in a small way quite creditably. He chose a sunny +sloping bank covered with a thick growth of bushes, and erected there +a nice little hen-house with two glass windows, a little door, and a +good pole for his family to roost on. He made, moreover, a row of +nice little boxes with hay in them for nests, and he bought three or +four little smooth white china eggs to put in them, so that, when his +hens DID lay, he might carry off their eggs without their being +missed. This hen-house stood in a little grove that sloped down to a +wide river, just where there was a little cove which reached almost +to the hen-house. + +This situation inspired one of Master Fred's boy advisers with a new +scheme in relation to his poultry enterprise. "Hallo! I say, Fred," +said Tom Seymour, "you ought to raise ducks; you've got a capital +place for ducks there." + +"Yes; but I've bought HENS, you see," said Freddy; "so it's no use +trying." + +"No use! Of course there is. Just as if your hens couldn't hatch +ducks' eggs. Now you just wait till one of your hens wants to sit, +and you put ducks' eggs under her, and you'll have a family of ducks +in a twinkling. You can buy ducks' eggs a plenty of old Sam under +the hill. He always has hens hatch his ducks." + +So Freddy thought it would be a good experiment, and informed his +mother the next morning that he intended to furnish the ducks for the +next Christmas dinner and when she wondered how he was to come by +them, he said mysteriously, "Oh, I will show you how," but did not +further explain himself. The next day he went with Tom Seymour and +made a trade with old Sam, and gave him a middle-aged jack-knife for +eight of his ducks' eggs. Sam, by-the-by, was a woolly-headed old +negro man, who lived by the pond hard by, and who had long cast +envying eyes on Fred's jack-knife, because it was of extra fine +steel, having been a Christmas present the year before. But Fred +knew very well there were any number more of jack-knives where that +came from, and that, in order to get a new one, he must dispose of +the old; so he made the purchase and came home rejoicing. + +Now about this time Mrs. Feathertop, having laid her eggs daily with +great credit to herself, notwithstanding Mrs. Scratchard's +predictions, began to find herself suddenly attacked with nervous +symptoms. She lost her gay spirits, grew dumpish and morose, stuck +up her feathers in a bristling way, and pecked at her neighbours if +they did so much as look at her. Master Gray Cock was greatly +concerned, and went to old Dr. Peppercorn, who looked solemn, and +recommended an infusion of angle-worms, and said he would look in on +the patient twice a day till she was better. + +"Gracious me, Gray Cock!" said old Goody Kertarkut, who had been +lolling at the corner as he passed, "ain't you a fool?--cocks always +are fools. Don't you know what's the matter with your wife? She +wants to sit, that's all; and you just let her sit. A fiddlestick +for Dr. Peppercorn! Why, any good old hen that has brought up a +family knows more than a doctor about such things. You just go home +and tell her to sit if she wants to, and behave herself." + +When Gray Cock came home, he found that Master Freddy had been before +him, and had established Mrs. Feathertop upon eight nice eggs, where +she was sitting in gloomy grandeur. He tried to make a little +affable conversation with her, and to relate his interview with the +doctor and Goody Kertarkut; but she was morose and sullen, and only +pecked at him now and then in a very sharp, unpleasant way. So after +a few more efforts to make himself agreeable he left her, and went +out promenading with the captivating Mrs. Red Comb, a charming young +Spanish widow, who had just been imported into the neighbouring yard. + +"Bless my soul," said he, "you've no idea how cross my wife is." + +"O you horrid creature!" said Mrs. Red Comb. "How little you feel +for the weaknesses of us poor hens!" + +"On my word, ma'am," said Gray Cock, "you do me injustice. But when +a hen gives way to temper, ma'am, and no longer meets her husband +with a smile--when she even pecks at him whom she is bound to honour +and obey--" + +"Horrid monster! talking of obedience! I should say, sir, you came +straight from Turkey." And Mrs. Red Comb tossed her head with a most +bewitching air, and pretended to run away; and old Mrs. Scratchard +looked out of her coop and called to Goody Kertarkut, - + +"Look how Mr. Gray Cock is flirting with that widow. I always knew +she was a baggage." + +"And his poor wife left at home alone," said Goody Kertarkut. "It's +the way with 'em all!" + +"Yes, yes," said Dame Scratchard, "she'll know what real life is now, +and she won't go about holding her head so high, and looking down on +her practical neighbours that have raised families." + +"Poor thing! what'll she do with a family?" said Goody Kertarkut. + +"Well, what business have such young flirts to get married?" said +Dame Scratchard. "I don't expect she'll raise a single chick; and +there's Gray Cock flirting about, fine as ever. Folks didn't do so +when I was young. I'm sure my husband knew what treatment a sitting +hen ought to have,--poor old Long Spur! he never minded a peck or so +and then. I must say these modern fowls ain't what fowls used to +be." + +Meanwhile the sun rose and set, and Master Fred was almost the only +friend and associate of poor little Mrs. Feathertop, whom he fed +daily with meal and water, and only interrupted her sad reflections +by pulling her up occasionally to see how the eggs were coming on. + +At last "Peep, peep, peep," began to be heard in the nest, and one +little downy head after another poked forth from under the feathers, +surveying the world with round, bright, winking eyes; and gradually +the brood were hatched, and Mrs. Feathertop arose, a proud and happy +mother, with all the bustling, scratching, care-taking instincts of +family-life warm within her breast. She clucked and scratched, and +cuddled the little downy bits of things as handily and discreetly as +a seven-year-old hen could have done, exciting thereby the wonder of +the community. + +Master Gray Cock came home in high spirits, and complimented her; +told her she was looking charmingly once more, and said, "Very well, +very nice," as he surveyed the young brood. So that Mrs. Feathertop +began to feel the world going well with her, when suddenly in came +Dame Scratchard and Goody Kertarkut to make a morning call. + +"Let's see the chicks," said Dame Scratchard. + +"Goodness me," said Goody Kertarkut, "what a likeness to their dear +papa!" + +"Well, but bless me, what's the matter with their bills?" said Dame +Scratchard. "Why, my dear, these chicks are deformed! I'm sorry for +you, my dear; but it's all the result of your inexperience. You +ought to have eaten pebble-stones with your meal when you were +sitting. Don't you see, Dame Kertarkut, what bills they have? +That'll increase, and they'll be frightful!" + +"What shall I do?" said Mrs. Feathertop, now greatly alarmed. + +"Nothing, as I know of," said Dame Scratchard, "since you didn't come +to me before you sat. I could have told you all about it. Maybe it +won't kill 'em, but they'll always be deformed." + +And so the gossips departed, leaving a sting under the pin-feathers +of the poor little hen mamma, who began to see that her darlings had +curious little spoon-bills, different from her own, and to worry and +fret about it. + +"My dear," she said to her spouse, "do get Dr. Peppercorn to come in +and look at their bills, and see if anything can be done." + +Dr. Peppercorn came in, and put on a monstrous pair of spectacles, +and said, "Hum! ha! extraordinary case; very singular." + +"Did you ever see anything like it, doctor?" said both parents in a +breath. + +"I've read of such cases. It's a calcareous enlargement of the +vascular bony tissue, threatening ossification," said the doctor. + +"Oh, dreadful! Can it be possible?" shrieked both parents. "Can +anything be done?" + +"Well, I should recommend a daily lotion made of mosquitoes' horns +and bicarbonate of frogs' toes, together with a powder, to be taken +morning and night, of muriate of fleas. One thing you must be +careful about: they must never wet their feet, nor drink any water." + +"Dear me, doctor, I don't know what I SHALL do, for they seem to have +a particular fancy for getting into water." + +"Yes, a morbid tendency often found in these cases of bony +tumification of the vascular tissue of the mouth; but you must resist +it, ma'am, as their life depends upon it." And with that Dr. +Peppercorn glared gloomily on the young ducks, who were stealthily +poking the objectionable little spoon-bills out from under their +mother's feathers. + +After this poor Mrs. Feathertop led a weary life of it; for the young +fry were as healthy and enterprising a brood of young ducks as ever +carried saucepans on the end of their noses, and they most utterly +set themselves against the doctor's prescriptions, murmured at the +muriate of fleas and the bicarbonate of frogs' toes, and took every +opportunity to waddle their little ways down to the mud and water +which was in their near vicinity. So their bills grew larger and +larger, as did the rest of their bodies, and family government grew +weaker and weaker. + +"You'll wear me out, children, you certainly will," said poor Mrs. +Feathertop. + +"You'll go to destruction, do ye hear?" said Master Gray Cock. + +"Did you ever see such frights as poor Mrs. Feathertop has got?" said +Dame Scratchard. "I knew what would come of HER family--all +deformed, and with a dreadful sort of madness which makes them love +to shovel mud with those shocking spoon-bills of theirs." + +"It's a kind of idiocy," said Goody Kertarkut. "Poor things! they +can't be kept from the water, nor made to take powders, and so they +get worse and worse." + +"I understand it's affecting their feet so that they can't walk, and +a dreadful sort of net is growing between their toes. What a +shocking visitation!" + +"She brought it on herself," said Dame Scratchard. "Why didn't she +come to me before she sat? She was always an upstart, self-conceited +thing; but I'm sure I pity her." + +Meanwhile the young ducks throve apace. Their necks grew glossy, +like changeable green and gold satin, and though they would not take +the doctor's medicine, and would waddle in the mud and water--for +which they always felt themselves to be very naughty ducks--yet they +grew quite vigorous and hearty. At last one day the whole little +tribe waddled off down to the bank of the river. It was a beautiful +day, and the river was dancing and dimpling and winking as the little +breezes shook the trees that hung over it. + +"Well," said the biggest of the little ducks, "in spite of Dr. +Peppercorn, I can't help longing for the water. I don't believe it +is going to hurt me; at any rate, here goes," and in he plumped, and +in went every duck after him, and they threw out their great brown +feet as cleverly as if they had taken swimming lessons all their +lives, and sailed off on the river, away, away among the ferns, under +the pink azaleas, through reeds and rushes, and arrow-heads and +pickerel-weed, the happiest ducks that ever were born; and soon they +were quite out of sight. + +"Well, Mrs. Feathertop, this is a dispensation!" said Mrs. +Scratchard. "Your children are all drowned at last, just as I knew +they'd be. The old music-teacher, Master Bullfrog, that lives down +in Water-Dock Lane, saw 'em all plump madly into the water together +this morning. That's what comes of not knowing how to bring up a +family!" + +Mrs. Feathertop gave only one shriek and fainted dead away, and was +carried home on a cabbage-leaf; and Mr. Gray Cock was sent for, where +he was waiting on Mrs. Red Comb through the squash-vines. + +"It's a serious time in your family, sir," said Goody Kertarkut, "and +you ought to be at home supporting your wife. Send for Dr. +Peppercorn without delay." + +Now as the case was a very dreadful one, Dr. Peppercorn called a +council from the barn-yard of the squire, two miles off, and a brisk +young Dr. Partlett appeared, in a fine suit of brown and gold, with +tail-feathers like meteors. A fine young fellow he was, lately from +Paris, with all the modern scientific improvements fresh in his head. + +When he had listened to the whole story, he clapped his spur into the +ground, and leaning back laughed so loudly that all the cocks in the +neighbourhood crowed. + +Mrs. Feathertop rose up out of her swoon, and Mr. Gray Cock was +greatly enraged. + +"What do you mean, sir, by such behaviour in the house of mourning?" + +"My dear sir, pardon me; but there is no occasion for mourning. My +dear madam, let me congratulate you. There is no harm done. The +simple matter is, dear madam, you have been under a hallucination all +along. The neighbourhood and my learned friend the doctor have all +made a mistake in thinking that these children of yours were hens at +all. They are ducks, ma'am, evidently ducks, and very finely-formed +ducks I daresay." + +At this moment a quack was heard, and at a distance the whole tribe +were seen coming waddling home, their feathers gleaming in green and +gold, and they themselves in high good spirits. + +"Such a splendid day as we have had!" they all cried in a breath. +"And we know now how to get our own living; we can take care of +ourselves in future, so you need have no further trouble with us." + +"Madam," said the doctor, making a bow with an air which displayed +his tail-feathers to advantage, "let me congratulate you on the +charming family you have raised. A finer brood of young, healthy +ducks I never saw. Give me your claw, my dear friend," he said, +addressing the eldest son. "In our barn-yard no family is more +respected than that of the ducks." + +And so Madam Feathertop came off glorious at last. And when after +this the ducks used to go swimming up and down the river like so many +nabobs among the admiring hens, Dr. Peppercorn used to look after +them and say, "Ah, I had the care of their infancy!" and Mr. Gray +Cock and his wife used to say, "It was our system of education did +that!" + + + +THE NUTCRACKERS OF NUTCRACKER LODGE + + + +Mr. and Mrs. Nutcracker were as respectable a pair of squirrels as +ever wore gray brushes over their backs. They were animals of a +settled and serious turn of mind, not disposed to run after vanities +and novelties, but filling their station in life with prudence and +sobriety. Nutcracker Lodge was a hole in a sturdy old chestnut +overhanging a shady dell, and was held to be as respectably kept an +establishment as there was in the whole forest. Even Miss Jenny +Wren, the greatest gossip of the neighbourhood, never found anything +to criticise in its arrangements; and old Parson Too-whit, a +venerable owl who inhabited a branch somewhat more exalted, as became +his profession, was in the habit of saving himself much trouble in +his parochial exhortations by telling his parishioners in short to +"look at the Nutcrackers" if they wanted to see what it was to live a +virtuous life. Everything had gone on prosperously with them, and +they had reared many successive families of young Nutcrackers, who +went forth to assume their places in the forest of life, and to +reflect credit on their bringing up,--so that naturally enough they +began to have a very easy way of considering themselves models of +wisdom. + +But at last it came along, in the course of events, that they had a +son named Featherhead, who was destined to bring them a great deal of +anxiety. Nobody knows what the reason is, but the fact was, that +Master Featherhead was as different from all the former children of +this worthy couple as if he had been dropped out of the moon into +their nest, instead of coming into it in the general way. Young +Featherhead was a squirrel of good parts and a lively disposition, +but he was sulky and contrary and unreasonable, and always finding +matter of complaint in everything his respectable papa and mamma did. +Instead of assisting in the cares of a family,--picking up nuts and +learning other lessons proper to a young squirrel,--he seemed to +settle himself from his earliest years into a sort of lofty contempt +for the Nutcrackers, for Nutcracker Lodge, and for all the good old +ways and institutions of the domestic hole, which he declared to be +stupid and unreasonable, and entirely behind the times. To be sure, +he was always on hand at meal-times, and played a very lively tooth +on the nuts which his mother had collected, always selecting the very +best for himself; but he seasoned his nibbling with so much grumbling +and discontent, and so many severe remarks, as to give the impression +that he considered himself a peculiarly ill-used squirrel in having +to "eat their old grub," as he very unceremoniously called it. + +Papa Nutcracker, on these occasions, was often fiercely indignant, +and poor little Mamma Nutcracker would shed tears, and beg her +darling to be a little more reasonable; but the young gentleman +seemed always to consider himself as the injured party. + +Now nobody could tell why or wherefore Master Featherhead looked upon +himself as injured or aggrieved, since he was living in a good hole, +with plenty to eat, and without the least care or labour of his own; +but he seemed rather to value himself upon being gloomy and +dissatisfied. While his parents and brothers and sisters were +cheerfully racing up and down the branches, busy in their domestic +toils, and laying up stores for the winter, Featherhead sat gloomily +apart, declaring himself weary of existence, and feeling himself at +liberty to quarrel with everybody and everything about him. Nobody +understood him, he said;--he was a squirrel of a peculiar nature, and +needed peculiar treatment, and nobody treated him in a way that did +not grate on the finer nerves of his feelings. He had higher notions +of existence than could be bounded by that old rotten hole in a +hollow tree; he had thoughts that soared far above the miserable, +petty details of every-day life, and he could not and would not bring +down these soaring aspirations to the contemptible toil of laying up +a few chestnuts or hickory-nuts for winter. + +"Depend upon it, my dear," said Mrs. Nutcracker solemnly, "that +fellow must be a genius." + +"Fiddlestick on his genius!" said old Mr. Nutcracker; "what does he +DO?" + +"Oh, nothing, of course; that's one of the first marks of genius. +Geniuses, you know, never can come down to common life." + +"He eats enough for any two," remarked old Nutcracker, "and he never +helps to gather nuts." + +"My dear, ask Parson Too-whit. He has conversed with him, and quite +agrees with me that he says very uncommon things for a squirrel of +his age; he has such fine feelings,--so much above those of the +common crowd." + +"Fine feelings be hanged!" said old Nutcracker. "When a fellow eats +all the nuts that his mother gives him, and then grumbles at her, I +don't believe much in his fine feelings. Why don't he set himself +about something? I'm going to tell my fine young gentleman that, if +he doesn't behave himself, I'll tumble him out of the nest, neck and +crop, and see if hunger won't do something towards bringing down his +fine airs." + +But then Mrs. Nutcracker fell on her husband's neck with both paws, +and wept, and besought him so piteously to have patience with her +darling, that old Nutcracker, who was himself a soft-hearted old +squirrel, was prevailed upon to put up with the airs and graces of +his young scapegrace a little longer; and secretly in his silly old +heart he revolved the question whether possibly it might not be that +a great genius was actually to come of his household. + +The Nutcrackers belonged to the old-established race of the Grays, +but they were sociable, friendly people, and kept on the best of +terms with all branches of the Nutcracker family. The Chipmunks of +Chipmunk Hollow were a very lively, cheerful, sociable race, and on +the very best of terms with the Nutcracker Grays. Young Tip +Chipmunk, the oldest son, was in all respects a perfect contrast to +Master Featherhead. He was always lively and cheerful, and so very +alert in providing for the family, that old Mr. and Mrs. Chipmunk had +very little care, but could sit sociably at the door of their hole +and chat with neighbours, quite sure that Tip would bring everything +out right for them, and have plenty laid up for winter. + +Now Featherhead took it upon him, for some reason or other, to look +down upon Tip Chipmunk, and on every occasion to disparage him in the +social circle, as a very common kind of squirrel, with whom it would +be best not to associate too freely. + +"My dear," said Mrs. Nutcracker one day, when he was expressing these +ideas, "it seems to me that you are too hard on poor Tip; he is a +most excellent son and brother, and I wish you would be civil to +him." + +"Oh, I don't doubt that Tip is GOOD enough," said Featherhead +carelessly; "but then he is so very common! he hasn't an idea in his +skull above his nuts and his hole. He is good-natured enough, to be +sure,--these very ordinary people often are good-natured,--but he +wants manner; he has really no manner at all; and as to the deeper +feelings, Tip hasn't the remotest idea of them. I mean always to be +civil to Tip when he comes in my way, but I think the less we see of +that sort of people the better; and I hope, mother, you won't invite +the Chipmunks at Christmas,--these family dinners are such a bore!" + +"But, my dear, your father thinks a great deal of the Chipmunks; and +it is an old family custom to have all the relatives here at +Christmas." + +"And an awful bore it is! Why must people of refinement and +elevation be forever tied down because of some distant relationship? +Now there are our cousins the High-Flyers,--if we could get them, +there would be some sense in it. Young Whisk rather promised me for +Christmas; but it's seldom now you can get a flying squirrel to show +himself in our parts, and if we are intimate with the Chipmunks it +isn't to be expected." + +"Confound him for a puppy!" said old Nutcracker, when his wife +repeated these sayings to him. "Featherhead is a fool. Common, +forsooth! I wish good, industrious, painstaking sons like Tip +Chipmunk WERE common. For my part, I find these uncommon people the +most tiresome. They are not content with letting us carry the whole +load, but they sit on it, and scold at us while we carry them." + +But old Mr. Nutcracker, like many other good old gentlemen squirrels, +found that Christmas dinners and other things were apt to go as his +wife said, and his wife was apt to go as young Featherhead said; and +so, when Christmas came, the Chipmunks were not invited, for the +first time in many years. The Chipmunks, however, took all +pleasantly, and accepted poor old Mrs. Nutcracker's awkward apologies +with the best possible grace; and young Tip looked in on Christmas +morning with the compliments of the season and a few beech-nuts, +which he had secured as a great dainty. The fact was, that Tip's +little striped fur coat was so filled up and overflowing with +cheerful good-will to all, that he never could be made to understand +that any of his relations could want to cut him; and therefore +Featherhead looked down on him with contempt, and said he had no +tact, and couldn't see when he was not wanted. + +It was wonderful to see how, by means of persisting in remarks like +these, young Featherhead at last got all his family to look up to him +as something uncommon. Though he added nothing to the family, and +required more to be done for him than all the others put together,-- +though he showed not the smallest real perseverance or ability in +anything useful,--yet somehow all his brothers and sisters, and his +poor foolish old mother, got into a way of regarding him as something +wonderful, and delighting in his sharp sayings as if they had been +the wisest things in the world. + +But at last old papa declared that it was time for Featherhead to +settle himself to some business in life, roundly declaring that he +could not always have him as a hanger-on in the paternal hole. + +"What are you going to do, my boy?" said Tip Chipmunk to him one day. +"We are driving now a thriving trade in hickory-nuts, and if you +would like to join us--" + +"Thank you," said Featherhead; "but I confess I have no fancy for +anything so slow as the hickory trade; I never was made to grub and +delve in that way." + +The fact was that Featherhead had lately been forming alliances such +as no reputable squirrel should even think of. He had more than once +been seen going out evenings with the Rats of Rat Hollow,--a race +whose reputation for honesty was more than doubtful. The fact was, +further, that old Longtooth Rat, an old sharper and money-lender, had +long had his eye on Featherhead as just about silly enough for their +purposes,--engaging him in what he called a speculation, but which +was neither more nor less than downright stealing. + +Near by the chestnut-tree where Nutcracker Lodge was situated was a +large barn filled with corn and grain, besides many bushels of hazel- +nuts, chestnuts, and walnuts. Now old Longtooth proposed to young +Featherhead that he should nibble a passage into this loft, and there +establish himself in the commission business, passing the nuts and +corn to him as he wanted them. Old Longtooth knew what he was about +in the proposal, for he had heard talk of a brisk Scotch terrier that +was about to be bought to keep the rats from the grain; but you may +be sure he kept his knowledge to himself, so that Featherhead was +none the wiser for it. + +"The nonsense of fellows like Tip Chipmunk!" said Featherhead to his +admiring brothers and sisters--"the perfectly stupid nonsense! There +he goes, delving and poking, picking up a nut here and a grain there, +when _I_ step into property at once." + +"But I hope, my son, you are careful to be honest in your dealings," +said old Nutcracker, who was a very moral squirrel. + +With that, young Featherhead threw his tail saucily over one +shoulder, winked knowingly at his brothers, and said, "Certainly, +sir! If honesty consists in getting what you can while it is going, +I mean to be honest." + +Very soon Featherhead appeared to his admiring companions in the +height of prosperity. He had a splendid hole in the midst of a heap +of chestnuts, and he literally seemed to be rolling in wealth; he +never came home without showering lavish gifts on his mother and +sisters; he wore his tail over his back with a buckish air, and +patronized Tip Chipmunk with a gracious nod whenever he met him, and +thought that the world was going well with him. + +But one luckless day, as Featherhead was lolling in his hole, up came +two boys with the friskiest, wiriest Scotch terrier you ever saw. +His eyes blazed like torches, and poor Featherhead's heart died +within him as he heard the boys say, "Now we'll see if we can't catch +the rascal that eats our grain." + +Featherhead tried to slink out at the hole he had gnawed to come in +by, but found it stopped. + +"Oh, you are there, are you, mister?" said the boy. "Well, you don't +get out; and now for a chase!" + +And, sure enough, poor Featherhead ran distracted with terror up and +down, through the bundles of hay, between barrels, and over casks, +but with the barking terrier ever at his heels, and the boys running, +shouting, and cheering his pursuer on. He was glad at last to escape +through a crack, though he left half of his fine brush behind him; +for Master Wasp the terrier made a snap at it just as he was going, +and cleaned all the hair off of it, so that it was bare as a rat's +tail. + +Poor Featherhead limped off, bruised and beaten and bedraggled, with +the boys and dog still after him; and they would have caught him, +after all, if Tip Chipmunk's hole had not stood hospitably open to +receive him. Tip took him in, like a good-natured fellow as he was, +and took the best of care of him; but the glory of Featherhead's tail +had departed for ever. He had sprained his left paw, and got a +chronic rheumatism, and the fright and fatigue which he had gone +through had broken up his constitution, so that he never again could +be what he had been; but, Tip gave him a situation as under-clerk in +his establishment, and from that time he was a sadder and a wiser +squirrel than he ever had been before. + + + +THE HISTORY OF TIP-TOP + + + +Under the window of a certain pretty little cottage there grew a +great old apple-tree, which in the spring had thousands and thousands +of lovely pink blossoms on it, and in the autumn had about half as +many bright red apples as it had blossoms in the spring. + +The nursery of this cottage was a little bower of a room, papered +with mossy-green paper, and curtained with white muslin; and here +five little children used to come, in their white nightgowns, to be +dressed and have their hair brushed and curled every morning. + +First, there were Alice and Mary, bright-eyed, laughing little girls, +of seven and eight years; and then came stout little Jamie, and +Charlie; and finally little Puss, whose real name was Ellen, but who +was called Puss, and Pussy, and Birdie, and Toddlie, and any other +pet name that came to mind. + +Now it used to happen, every morning, that the five little heads +would be peeping out of the window, together, into the flowery boughs +of the apple-tree; and the reason was this. A pair of robins had +built a very pretty, smooth-lined nest in a fork of the limb that +came directly under the window, and the building of this nest had +been superintended, day by day, by the five pairs of bright eyes of +these five children. The robins at first had been rather shy of this +inspection; but as they got better acquainted, they seemed to think +no more of the little curly heads in the window than of the pink +blossoms about them, or the daisies and buttercups at the foot of the +tree. + +All the little hands were forward to help; some threw out flossy bits +of cotton,--for which, we grieve to say, Charlie had cut a hole in +the crib quilt,--and some threw out bits of thread and yarn, and +Allie ravelled out a considerable piece from one of her garters, +which she threw out as a contribution; and they exulted in seeing the +skill with which the little builders wove everything in. "Little +birds, little birds," they would say, "you shall be kept warm, for we +have given you cotton out of our crib quilt, and yarn out of our +stockings." Nay, so far did this generosity proceed, that Charlie +cut a flossy, golden curl from Toddlie's head and threw it out; and +when the birds caught it up the whole flock laughed to see Toddlie's +golden hair figuring in a bird's-nest. + +When the little thing was finished, it was so neat, and trim, and +workman-like, that the children all exulted over it, and called it +"our nest," and the two robins they called "our birds." But +wonderful was the joy when the little eyes, opening one morning, saw +in the nest a beautiful pale-green egg; and the joy grew from day to +day, for every day there came another egg, and so on till there were +five little eggs; and then the oldest girl, Alice, said, "There are +five eggs: that makes one for each of us, and each of us will have a +little bird by-and-by;"--at which all the children laughed and jumped +for glee. + +When the five little eggs were all laid, the mother-bird began to sit +on them; and at any time of day or night, when a little head peeped +out of the nursery window, might be seen a round, bright, patient +pair of bird's eyes contentedly waiting for the young birds to come. +It seemed a long time for the children to wait; but every day they +put some bread and cake from their luncheon on the window-sill, so +that the birds might have something to eat; but still there she was, +patiently sitting! + +"How long, long, long she waits!" said Jamie impatiently. "I don't +believe she's ever going to hatch." + +"Oh, yes she is!" said grave little Alice. "Jamie, you don't +understand about these things; it takes a long, long time to hatch +eggs. Old Sam says his hens sit three weeks;--only think, almost a +month!" + +Three weeks looked a long time to the five bright pairs of little +watching eyes; but Jamie said the eggs were so much smaller than +hens' eggs that it wouldn't take so long to hatch them, he knew. +Jamie always thought he knew all about everything, and was so sure of +it that he rather took the lead among the children. But one morning, +when they pushed their five heads out of the window, the round, +patient little bird-eyes were gone, and there seemed to be nothing in +the nest but a bunch of something hairy. + +Upon this they all cried out, "O mamma, DO come here! the bird is +gone and left her nest?" And when they cried out, they saw five wide +little red mouths open in the nest, and saw that the hairy bunch of +stuff was indeed the first of five little birds. + +"They are dreadful-looking things," said Mary; "I didn't know that +little birds began by looking so badly." + +"They seem to be all mouth," said Jamie. + +"We must feed them," said Charlie.--"Here, little birds, here's some +gingerbread for you," he said; and he threw a bit of his gingerbread, +which fortunately only hit the nest on the outside, and fell down +among the buttercups, where two crickets made a meal of it, and +agreed that it was as excellent gingerbread as if old Mother Cricket +herself had made it. + +"Take care, Charlie," said his mamma; "we do not know enough to feed +young birds. We must leave that to their papa and mamma, who +probably started out bright and early in the morning to get breakfast +for them." + +Sure enough, while they were speaking, back came Mr. and Mrs. Robin, +whirring through the green shadows of the apple tree; and thereupon +all the five little red mouths flew open, and the birds put something +into each. + +It was great amusement, after this, to watch the daily feeding of the +little birds, and to observe how, when not feeding them, the mother +sat brooding on the nest, warming them under her soft wings, while +the father-bird sat on the topmost bough of the apple-tree and sang +to them. In time they grew and grew, and, instead of a nest full of +little red mouths, there was a nest full of little, fat, speckled +robins, with round, bright, cunning eyes, just like their parents; +and the children began to talk together about their birds. + +"I'm going to give my robin a name," said Mary. "I call him Brown- +Eyes." + +"And I call mine Tip-Top," said Jamie, "because I know he'll be a +tip-top bird." + +"And I call mine Singer," said Alice. + +"I 'all mine Toddy," said little Toddlie, who would not be behindhand +in anything that was going on. + +"Hurrah for Toddlie!" said Charlie; "hers is the best of all. For my +part, I call mine Speckle." + +So then the birds were all made separate characters by having each a +separate name given it. + +Brown-Eyes, Tip-Top, Singer, Toddy, and Speckle made, as they grew +bigger, a very crowded nestful of birds. + +Now the children had early been taught to say in a little hymn:- + + +"Birds in their little nests agree; +And 'tie a shameful sight +When children of one family +Fall out, and chide, and fight;" - + + +and they thought anything really written and printed in a hymn must +be true; therefore they were very much astonished to see, from day to +day, that THEIR little birds in their nest did NOT agree. + +Tip-Top was the biggest and strongest bird, and he was always +shuffling and crowding the others, and clamouring for the most food; +and when Mrs. Robin came in with a nice bit of anything, Tip-Top's +red mouth opened so wide, and he was so noisy, that one would think +the nest was all his. His mother used to correct him for these +gluttonous ways, and sometimes made him wait till all the rest were +helped before she gave him a mouthful; but he generally revenged +himself in her absence by crowding the others and making the nest +generally uncomfortable. Speckle, however, was a bird of spirit, and +he used to peck at Tip-Top; so they would sometimes have a regular +sparring-match across poor Brown-Eyes, who was a meek, tender little +fellow, and would sit winking and blinking in fear while his big +brothers quarrelled. As to Toddy and Singer, they turned out to be +sister birds, and showed quite a feminine talent for chattering; they +used to scold their badly behaving brothers in a way that made the +nest quite lively. + +On the whole Mr. and Mrs. Robin did not find their family circle the +peaceable place the poet represents. + +"I say," said Tip-Top one day to them, "this old nest is a dull, +mean, crowded hole, and it's quite time some of us were out of it. +Just give us lessons in flying, won't you? and let us go." + +"My dear boy," said Mother Robin, "we shall teach you to fly as soon +as your wings are strong enough." + +"You are a very little bird," said his father, "and ought to be good +and obedient, and wait patiently till your wing-feathers grow; and +then you can soar away to some purpose." + +"Wait for my wing-feathers? Humbug!" Tip-Top would say, as he sat +balancing with his little short tail on the edge of the nest, and +looking down through the grass and clover-heads below, and up into +the blue clouds above. "Father and mother are slow old birds; they +keep a fellow back with their confounded notions. If they don't +hurry up, I'll take matters into my own claws, and be off some day +before they know it. Look at those swallows, skimming and diving +through the blue air! That's the way I want to do." + +"But, dear brother, the way to learn to do that is to be good and +obedient while we are little, and wait till our parents think it best +for us to begin." + +"Shut up your preaching," said Tip-Top; "what do you girls know of +flying?" + +"About as much as you," said Speckle. "However, I'm sure I don't +care how soon you take yourself off, for you take up more room than +all the rest put together." + +"You mind yourself, Master Speckle, or you'll get something you don't +like," said Tip-Top, still strutting in a very cavalier way on the +edge of the nest, and sticking up his little short tail quite +valiantly. + +"O my darlings," said their mamma, now fluttering home, "cannot I +ever teach you to live in love?" + +"It's all Tip-Top's fault," screamed the other birds in a flutter. + +"My fault? Of course, everything in this nest that goes wrong is +laid to me," said Tip-Top; "and I'll leave it to anybody, now, if I +crowd anybody. I've been sitting outside, on the very edge of the +nest, and there's Speckle has got my place." + +"Who wants your place?" said Speckle. "I'm sure you can come in, if +you please." + +"My dear boy," said the mother, "do go into the nest and be a good +little bird, and then you will be happy." + +"That's always the talk," said Tip-Top. "I'm too big for the nest, +and I want to see the world. It's full of beautiful things, I know. +Now there's the most lovely creature, with bright eyes, that comes +under the tree every day, and wants me to come down in the grass and +play with her." + +"My son, my son, beware!" said the frightened mother; "that lovely- +seeming creature is our dreadful enemy, the cat,--a horrid monster, +with teeth and claws." + +At this, all the little birds shuddered and cuddled deeper in the +nest; only Tip-Top in his heart disbelieved it. "I'm too old a +bird," said he to himself, "to believe THAT story; mother is chaffing +me. But I'll show her that I can take care of myself." + +So the next morning, after the father and mother were gone, Tip-Top +got on the edge of the nest again, and looked over and saw lovely +Miss Pussy washing her face among the daisies under the tree, and her +hair was sleek and white as the daisies, and her eyes were yellow and +beautiful to behold, and she looked up to the tree bewitchingly, and +said, "Little birds, little birds, come down; Pussy wants to play +with you." + +"Only look at her!" said Tip-Top; "her eyes are like gold." + +"No, don't look," said Singer and Speckle. "She will bewitch you, +and then eat you up." + +"I'd like to see her try to eat me up," said Tip-Top, again balancing +his short tail over the nest. "Just as if she would. She's just the +nicest, most innocent creature going, and only wants us to have fun. +We never do have any fun in this old nest!" + +Then the yellow eyes below shot a bewildering light into Tip-Top's +eyes, and a voice sounded sweet as silver: "Little birds, little +birds, come down; Pussy wants to play with you." + +"Her paws are as white as velvet," said Tip-Top, "and so soft! I +don't believe she has any claws." + +"Don't go, brother, don't!" screamed both sisters. + +All we know about it is, that a moment after a direful scream was +heard from the nursery window. "O mamma, mamma, do come here! Tip- +Top's fallen out of the nest, and the cat has got him!" + +Away ran Pussy with foolish little Tip-Top in her mouth, and he +squeaked dolefully when he felt her sharp teeth. Wicked Miss Pussy +had no mind to eat him at once; she meant just as she said, to "play +with him." So she ran off to a private place among the currant- +bushes, while all the little curly heads were scattered up and down +looking for her. + +Did you ever see a cat play with a bird or a mouse? She sets it +down, and seems to go off and leave it; but the moment it makes the +first movement to get away,--pounce! she springs on it, and shakes it +in her mouth; and so she teases and tantalizes it, till she gets +ready to kill and eat it. I can't say why she does it, except that +it is a cat's nature; and it is a very bad nature for foolish young +robins to get acquainted with. + +"Oh, where is he? where is he? Do find my poor Tip-Top," said Jamie, +crying as loud as he could scream. "I'll kill that horrid cat,--I'll +kill her!" + +Mr. and Mrs. Robin, who had come home meantime, joined their +plaintive chirping to the general confusion; and Mrs. Robin's bright +eyes soon discovered her poor little son, where Pussy was patting and +rolling him from one paw to the other under the currant-bushes; and +settling on the bush above, she called the little folks to the spot +by her cries. + +Jamie plunged under the bush, and caught the cat with luckless Tip- +Top in her mouth; and, with one or two good thumps, he obliged her to +let him go. Tip-Top was not dead, but in a sadly draggled and torn +state. Some of his feathers were torn out, and one of his wings was +broken, and hung down in a melancholy way. + +"Oh, what SHALL we do for him? He will die. Poor Tip-Top!" said the +children. + +"Let's put him back into the nest, children," said mamma. "His +mother will know best what to do with him." + +So a ladder was got, and papa climbed up and put poor Tip-Top safely +into the nest. The cat had shaken all the nonsense well out of him; +he was a dreadfully humbled young robin. + +The time came at last when all the other birds in the nest learned to +fly, and fluttered and flew about everywhere; but poor melancholy +Tip-Top was still confined to the nest with a broken wing. Finally, +AS it became evident that it would be long before he could fly, Jamie +took him out of the nest, and made a nice little cage for him, and +used to feed him every day, and he would hop about and seem tolerably +contented; but it was evident that he would be a lame-winged robin +all his days. + +Jamie's mother told him that Tip-Top's history was an allegory. + +"I don't know what you mean, mamma," said Jamie. + +"When something in a bird's life is like something in a boy's life, +or when a story is similar in its meaning to reality, we call it an +allegory. Little boys, when they are about half grown up, sometimes +do just as Tip-Top did. They are in a great hurry to get away from +home into the great world; and then temptation comes, with bright +eyes and smooth velvet paws, and promises them fun; and they go to +bad places; they get to smoking, and then to drinking; and, finally, +the bad habit gets them in its teeth and claws, and plays with them +as a cat does with a mouse. They try to reform, just as your robin +tried to get away from the cat; but their bad habits pounce on them +and drag them back. And so, when the time comes that they want to +begin life, they are miserable, broken-down creatures, like your +broken-winged robin. + +"So, Jamie, remember, and don't try to be a man before your time, and +let your parents judge for you while you are young; and never believe +in any soft white Pussy, with golden eyes, that comes and wants to +tempt you to come down and play with her. If a big boy offers to +teach you to smoke a cigar, that is Pussy. If a boy wants you to go +into a billiard-saloon, that is Pussy. If a boy wants you to learn +to drink anything with spirit in it, however sweetened and disguised, +remember Pussy is there. And Pussy's claws are long, and Pussy's +teeth are strong; and if she gives you one shake in your youth, you +will be like a broken-winged robin all your days." + + + +MISS KATY-DID AND MISS CRICKET + + + +Miss Katy-did sat on the branch of a flowering azalea, in her best +suit of fine green and silver, with wings of point-lace from Mother +Nature's finest web. + +Miss Katy was in the very highest possible spirits, because her +gallant cousin, Colonel Katy-did, had looked in to make her a morning +visit. It was a fine morning, too, which goes for as much among the +Katy-dids as among men and women. It was, in fact, a morning that +Miss Katy thought must have been made on purpose for her to enjoy +herself in. There had been a patter of rain the night before, which +had kept the leaves awake talking to each other till nearly morning; +but by dawn the small winds had blown brisk little puffs, and whisked +the heavens clear and bright with their tiny wings, as you have seen +Susan clear away the cobwebs in your mamma's parlour; and so now +there were only left a thousand blinking, burning water-drops, +hanging like convex mirrors at the end of each leaf, and Miss Katy +admired herself in each one. + +"Certainly I am a pretty creature," she said to herself; and when the +gallant colonel said something about being dazzled by her beauty, she +only tossed her head and took it as quite a matter of course. + +"The fact is, my dear colonel," she said, "I am thinking of giving a +party, and you must help me to make out the lists." + +"My dear, you make me the happiest of Katy-dids." + +"Now," said Miss Katy-did, drawing an azalea-leaf towards her, "let +us see--whom shall we have? The Fireflies, of course; everybody +wants them, they are so brilliant,--a little unsteady, to be sure, +but quite in the higher circles." + +"Yes, we must have the Fireflies," echoed the colonel. + +"Well, then, and the Butterflies and the Moths. Now, there's a +trouble. There's such an everlasting tribe of those Moths; and if +you invite dull people they're always sure all to come, every one of +them. Still, if you have the Butterflies, you can't leave out the +Moths." + +"Old Mrs. Moth has been laid up lately with a gastric fever, and that +may keep two or three of the Misses Moth at home," said the colonel. + +"Whatever could give the old lady such a turn?" said Miss Katy. "I +thought she never was sick." + +"I suspect it's high living. I understand she and her family ate up +a whole ermine cape last month, and it disagreed with them." + +"For my part, I can't conceive how the Moths can live as they do," +said Miss Katy, with a face of disgust. "Why, I could no more eat +worsted and fur, as they do--" + +"That is quite evident from the fairy-like delicacy of your +appearance," said the colonel. "One can see that nothing so gross or +material has ever entered into your system." + +"I'm sure," said Miss Katy, "mamma says she don't know what does keep +me alive; half a dewdrop and a little bit of the nicest part of a +rose-leaf, I assure you, often last me for a day. But we are +forgetting our list. Let's see--the Fireflies, Butterflies, Moths. +The Bees must come, I suppose." + +"The Bees are a worthy family," said the colonel. + +"Worthy enough, but dreadfully humdrum," said Miss Katy. "They never +talk about anything but honey and housekeeping; still, they are a +class of people one cannot neglect." + +"Well, then, there are the Bumble-Bees." + +"Oh, I dote on them! General Bumble is one of the most dashing, +brilliant fellows of the day." + +"I think he is shockingly corpulent," said Colonel Katy-did, not at +all pleased to hear him praised; "don't you?" + +"I don't know but he IS a little stout," said Miss Katy; "but so +distinguished and elegant in his manners--something quite martial and +breezy about him." + +"Well, if you invite the Bumble-Bees, you must have the Hornets." + +"Those spiteful Hornets! I detest them!" + +"Nevertheless, dear Miss Katy, one does not like to offend the +Hornets." + +"No, one can't. There are those five Misses Hornet--dreadful old +maids!--as full of spite as they can live. You may be sure they will +every one come, and be looking about to make spiteful remarks. Put +down the Hornets, though." + +"How about the Mosquitoes!" said the colonel. + +"Those horrid Mosquitoes--they are dreadfully plebeian! Can't one +cut them?" + +"Well dear Miss Katy," said the colonel, "if you ask my candid +opinion as a friend, I should say not. There's young Mosquito, who +graduated last year, has gone into literature, and is connected with +some of our leading papers, and they say he carries the sharpest pen +of all the writers. It won't do to offend him." + +"And so I suppose we must have his old aunts, and all six of his +sisters, and all his dreadfully common relations." + +"It is a pity," said the colonel; "but one must pay one's tax to +society." + +Just at this moment the conference was interrupted by a visitor, Miss +Keziah Cricket, who came in with her work-bag on her arm to ask a +subscription for a poor family of Ants who had just had their house +hoed up in clearing the garden-walks. + +"How stupid of them," said Katy, "not to know better than to put +their house in the garden-walk; that's just like those Ants." + +"Well, they are in great trouble; all their stores destroyed, and +their father killed--cut quite in two by a hoe." + +"How very shocking! I don't like to hear of such disagreeable +things; it affects my nerves terribly. Well, I'm sure I haven't +anything to give. Mamma said yesterday she was sure she didn't know +how our bills were to be paid; and there's my green satin with point- +lace yet to come home." And Miss Katy-did shrugged her shoulders and +affected to be very busy with Colonel Katy-did, in just the way that +young ladies sometimes do when they wish to signify to visitors that +they had better leave. + +Little Miss Cricket perceived how the case stood, and so hopped +briskly off, without giving herself even time to be offended. "Poor +extravagant little thing!" said she to herself, "it was hardly worth +while to ask her." + +"Pray, shall you invite the Crickets?" said Colonel Katy-did. + +"Who? I? Why, colonel, what a question! Invite the Crickets? Of +what can you be thinking?" + +"And shall you not ask the Locusts, and the Grasshoppers?" + +"Certainly. The Locusts, of course,--a very old and distinguished +family; and the Grasshoppers are pretty well, and ought to be asked. +But we must draw a line somewhere,--and the Crickets! why, it's +shocking even to think of!" + +"I thought they were nice, respectable people." + +"Oh, perfectly nice and respectable,--very good people, in fact, so +far as that goes. But then you must see the difficulty." + +"My dear cousin, I am afraid you must explain." + +"Why, their COLOUR, to be sure. Don't you see?" + +"Oh!" said the colonel. "That's it, is it? Excuse me, but I have +been living in France, where these distinctions are wholly unknown, +and I have not yet got myself in the train of fashionable ideas +here." + +"Well, then, let me teach you," said Miss Katy. "You know we +republicans go for no distinctions except those created by Nature +herself, and we found our rank upon COLOUR, because that is clearly a +thing that none has any hand in but our Maker. You see?" + +"Yes; but who decides what colour shall be the reigning colour?" + +"I'm surprised to hear the question! The only true colour--the only +proper one--is OUR colour, to be sure. A lovely pea-green is the +precise shade on which to found aristocratic distinction. But then +we are liberal;--we associate with the Moths, who are gray; with the +Butterflies, who are blue-and-gold coloured; with the Grasshoppers, +yellow and brown; and society would become dreadfully mixed if it +were not fortunately ordered that the Crickets are black as jet. The +fact is, that a class to be looked down upon is necessary to all +elegant society; and if the Crickets were not black, we could not +keep them down, because, as everybody knows, they are often a great +deal cleverer than we are. They have a vast talent for music and +dancing; they are very quick at learning, and would be getting to the +very top of the ladder if we once allowed them to climb. But their +being black is a convenience; because, as long as we are green and +they black, we have a superiority that can never be taken from us. +Don't you see now?" + +"Oh yes, I see exactly," said the colonel. + +"Now that Keziah Cricket, who just came in here, is quite a musician, +and her old father plays the violin beautifully;--by the way, we +might engage him for our orchestra." + + +And so Miss Katy's ball came off, and the performers kept it up from +sundown till daybreak, so that it seemed as if every leaf in the +forest were alive. The Katy-dids and the Mosquitoes, and the +Locusts, and a full orchestra of Crickets made the air perfectly +vibrate, insomuch that old Parson Too-Whit, who was preaching a +Thursday evening lecture to a very small audience, announced to his +hearers that he should certainly write a discourse against dancing +for the next weekly occasion. + +The good doctor was even with his word in the matter, and gave out +some very sonorous discourses, without in the least stopping the +round of gaieties kept up by these dissipated Katy-dids, which ran +on, night after night, till the celebrated Jack Frost epidemic, which +occurred somewhere about the first of September. + +Poor Miss Katy, with her flimsy green satin and point-lace, was one +of the first victims, and fell from the bough in company with a sad +shower of last year's leaves. The worthy Cricket family, however, +avoided Jack Frost by emigrating in time to the chimney-corner of a +nice little cottage that had been built in the wood that summer. + +There good old Mr. and Mrs. Cricket, with sprightly Miss Keziah and +her brothers and sisters, found a warm and welcome home; and when the +storm howled without, and lashed the poor naked trees, the Crickets +on the warm hearth would chirp out cheery welcome to papa as he came +in from the snowy path, or mamma as she sat at her work-basket. + +"Cheep, cheep, cheep!" little Freddy would say. "Mamma, who is it +says 'cheep'?" + +"Dear Freddy, it's our own dear little cricket, who loves us and +comes to sing to us when the snow is on the ground." + +So when poor Miss Katy-did's satin and lace were all swept away, the +warm home-talents of the Crickets made for them a welcome refuge. + + + +MOTHER MAGPIE'S MISCHIEF + + + +Old Mother Magpie was about the busiest character in the forest. But +you must know that there is a great difference between being busy and +being industrious. One may be very busy all the time, and yet not in +the least industrious; and this was the case with Mother Magpie. + +She was always full of everybody's business but her own--up and down, +here and there, everywhere but in her own nest, knowing everyone's +affairs, telling what everybody had been doing or ought to do, and +ready to cast her advice gratis at every bird and beast of the woods. + +Now she bustled up to the parsonage at the top of the oak-tree, to +tell old Parson Too-Whit what she thought he ought to preach for his +next sermon, and how dreadful the morals of the parish were becoming. +Then, having perfectly bewildered the poor old gentleman, who was +always sleepy of a Monday morning, Mother Magpie would take a peep +into Mrs. Oriole's nest, sit chattering on a bough above, and pour +forth floods of advice, which, poor little Mrs. Oriole used to say to +her husband, bewildered her more than a hard north-east storm. + +"Depend upon it, my dear," Mother Magpie would say, "that this way of +building your nest, swinging like an old empty stocking from a bough, +isn't at all the thing. I never built one so in my life, and I never +have headaches. Now you complain always that your head aches +whenever I call upon you. It's all on account of this way of +swinging and swaying about in such an absurd manner." + +"But, my dear," piped Mrs. Oriole timidly, "the Orioles always have +built in this manner, and it suits our constitution." + +"A fiddle on your constitution! How can you tell what agrees with +your constitution unless you try? You own you are not well; you are +subject to headaches; and every physician will tell you that a +tilting motion disorders the stomach and acts upon the brain. Ask +old Dr. Kite. I was talking with him about your case only yesterday, +and says he, 'Mrs. Magpie, I perfectly agree with you.'" + +"But my husband prefers this style of building." + +"That's only because he isn't properly instructed. Pray, did you +ever attend Dr. Kite's lectures on the nervous system?" + +"No, I have no time to attend lectures. Who would sit on the eggs?" + +"Why, your husband, to be sure; don't he take his turn in sitting? +If he don't, he ought to. I shall speak to him about it. My husband +always sits regularly half the time, that I may have time to go about +and exercise." + +"O Mrs. Magpie, pray don't speak to my husband; he will think I've +been complaining." + +"No, no, he won't. Let me alone. I understand just how to say the +thing. I've advised hundreds of young husbands in my day, and I +never gave offence." + +"But I tell you, Mrs. Magpie, I don't want any interference between +my husband and me, and I will not have it," says Mrs. Oriole, with +her little round eyes flashing with indignation. + +"Don't put yourself in a passion, my dear; the more you talk, the +more sure I am that your nervous system is running down, or you +wouldn't forget good manners in this way. You'd better take my +advice, for I understand just what to do,"--and away sails Mother +Magpie; and presently young Oriole comes home all in a flutter. + +"I say, my dear, if you will persist in gossiping over our private +family matters with that old Mother Magpie--" + +"My dear, I don't gossip. She comes and bores me to death with +talking, and then goes off and mistakes what she has been saying for +what I said." + +"But you must CUT her." + +"I try to, all I can; but she won't BE cut." + +"It's enough to make a bird swear," said Tommy Oriole. + +Tommy Oriole, to say the truth, had as good a heart as ever beat +under bird's feathers; but then he had a weakness for concerts and +general society, because he was held to be, by all odds, the +handsomest bird in the woods, and sung like an angel; and so the +truth was he didn't confine himself so much to the domestic nest as +Tom Titmouse or Billy Wren. But he determined that he wouldn't have +old Mother Magpie interfering with his affairs. + +"The fact is," quoth Tommy, "I am a society bird, and Nature has +marked out for me a course beyond the range of the commonplace, and +my wife must learn to accommodate. If she has a brilliant husband, +whose success gratifies her ambition and places her in a +distinguished public position, she must pay something for it. I'm +sure Billy Wren's wife would give her very bill to see her husband in +the circles where I am quite at home. To say the truth, my wife was +all well enough content till old Mother Magpie interfered. It is +quite my duty to take strong ground, and show that I cannot be +dictated to." + +So, after this, Tommy Oriole went to rather more concerts, and spent +less time at home than ever he did before, which was all that Mother +Magpie effected in that quarter. I confess this was very bad in +Tommy; but then birds are no better than men in domestic matters, and +sometimes will take the most unreasonable courses, if a meddlesome +Magpie gets her claw into their nest. + +But old Mother Magpie had now got a new business in hand in another +quarter. She bustled off down to Water-Dock Lane, where, as we said +in a former narrative, lived the old music-teacher, Dr. Bullfrog. +The poor old doctor was a simple-minded, good, amiable creature, who +had played the double-bass and led the forest choir on all public +occasions since nobody knows when. Latterly some youngsters had +arisen who sneered at his performances as behind the age. In fact, +since a great city had grown up in the vicinity of the forest, tribes +of wandering boys broke up the simple tastes and quiet habits which +old Mother Nature had always kept up in those parts. They pulled the +young checkerberry before it even had time to blossom, rooted up the +sassafras shrubs and gnawed their roots, fired off guns at the birds, +and on several occasions, when old Dr. Bullfrog was leading a +concert, had dashed in and broken up the choir by throwing stones. + +This was not the worst of it. The little varlets had a way of +jeering at the simple old doctor and his concerts, and mimicking the +tones of his bass-viol. "There you go, Paddy-go-donk, Paddy-go-donk- +-umph--chunk," some rascal of a boy would shout, while poor old +Bullfrog's yellow spectacles would be bedewed with tears of honest +indignation. In time, the jeers of these little savages began to +tell on the society in the forest, and to corrupt their simple +manners; and it was whispered among the younger and more heavy birds +and squirrels that old Bullfrog was a bore, and that it was time to +get up a new style of music in the parish, and to give the charge of +it to some more modern performer. + +Poor old Dr. Bullfrog knew nothing of this, however, and was doing +his simple best, in peace, when Mother Magpie called in upon him one +morning. + +"Well, neighbour, how unreasonable people are! Who would have +thought that the youth of our generation should have no more +consideration for established merit? Now, for my part, _I_ think +your music-teaching never was better; and as for our choir, I +maintain constantly that it never was in better order, but--Well, one +may wear her tongue out, but one can never make these young folks +listen to reason." + +"I really don't understand you, ma'am," said poor Dr. Bullfrog. + +"What! you haven't heard of a committee that is going to call on you, +to ask you to resign the care of the parish music?" + +"Madam," said Dr. Bullfrog, with all that energy of tone for which he +was remarkable, "I don't believe it,--I CAN'T believe it. You must +have made a mistake." + +"I mistake! No, no, my good friend; I never make mistakes. What I +know, I know certainly. Wasn't it I that said I knew there was an +engagement between Tim Chipmunk and Nancy Nibble, who are married +this very day? I knew that thing six weeks before any bird or beast +in our parts; and I can tell you, you are going to be scandalously +and ungratefully treated, Dr. Bullfrog." + +"Bless me, we shall all be ruined!" said Mrs. Bullfrog; "my poor +husband--" + +"Oh, as to that, if you take things in time, and listen to my +advice," said Mother Magpie, "we may yet pull you through. You must +alter your style a little,--adapt it to modern times. Everybody now +is a little touched with the operatic fever, and there's Tommy Oriole +has been to New Orleans and brought back a touch of the artistic. If +you would try his style a little,--something Tyrolean, you see." + +"Dear madam, consider my voice. I never could hit the high notes." + +"How do you know? It's all practice; Tommy Oriole says so. Just try +the scales. As to your voice, your manner of living has a great deal +to do with it. I always did tell you that your passion for water +injured your singing. Suppose Tommy Oriole should sit half his days +up to his hips in water, as you do,--his voice would be as hoarse and +rough as yours. Come up on the bank and learn to perch, as we birds +do. We are the true musical race." + +And so poor Mr. Bullfrog was persuaded to forego his pleasant little +cottage under the cat-tails, where his green spectacles and honest +round back had excited, even in the minds of the boys, sentiments of +respect and compassion. He came up into the garden, and established +himself under a burdock, and began to practise Italian scales. + +The result was, that poor old Dr. Bullfrog, instead of being +considered as a respectable old bore, got himself universally laughed +at for aping fashionable manners. Every bird and beast in the forest +had a gibe at him; and even old Parson Too-Whit thought it worth his +while to make him a pastoral call, and admonish him about courses +unbefitting his age and standing. As to Mother Magpie, you may be +sure that she assured every one how sorry she was that dear old Dr. +Bullfrog had made such a fool of himself; if he had taken her advice, +he would have kept on respectably as a nice old Bullfrog should. + +But the tragedy for the poor old music-teacher grew even more +melancholy in its termination; for one day, as he was sitting +disconsolately under a currant-bush in the garden, practising his +poor old notes in a quiet way, THUMP came a great blow of a hoe, +which nearly broke his back. + +"Hallo! what ugly beast have we got here?" said Tom Noakes, the +gardener's boy. "Here, here, Wasp, my boy." + +What a fright for a poor, quiet, old Bullfrog, as little wiry, wicked +Wasp came at him, barking and yelping. He jumped with all his force +sheer over a patch of bushes into the river, and swam back to his old +home among the cat-tails. And always after that it was observable +that he was very low-spirited, and took very dark views of life; but +nothing made him so angry as any allusion to Mother Magpie, of whom, +from that time, he never spoke except as OLD MOTHER MISCHIEF. + + + +THE SQUIRRELS THAT LIVE IN A HOUSE + + + +Once upon a time a gentleman went out into a great forest, and cut +away the trees, and built there a very nice little cottage. It was +set very low on the ground, and had very large bow-windows, and so +much of it was glass that one could look through it on every side and +see what was going on in the forest. You could see the shadows of +the fern-leaves, as they flickered and wavered over the ground, and +the scarlet partridge-berry and winter-green plums that matted round +the roots of the trees, and the bright spots of sunshine that fell +through their branches and went dancing about among the bushes and +leaves at their roots. You could see the chirping sparrows and the +thrushes and robins and bluebirds building their nests here and there +among the branches, and watch them from day to day as they laid their +eggs and hatched their young. You could also see red squirrels, and +gray squirrels, and little striped chip-squirrels, darting and +springing about, here and there and everywhere, running races with +each other from bough to bough, and chattering at each other in the +gayest possible manner. + +You may be sure that such a strange thing as a house for human beings +to live in did not come into this wild wood without making quite a +stir and excitement among the inhabitants that lived there before. +All the time it was building, there was the greatest possible +commotion in the breasts of all the older population; and there +wasn't even a black ant, or a cricket, that did not have his own +opinion about it, and did not tell the other ants and crickets just +what he thought the world was coming to in consequence. + +Old Mrs. Rabbit declared that the hammering and pounding made her +nervous, and gave her most melancholy forebodings of evil times. +"Depend upon it, children," she said to her long-eared family, "no +good will come to us from this establishment. Where man is, there +comes always trouble for us poor rabbits." + +The old chestnut-tree, that grew on the edge of the woodland ravine, +drew a great sigh which shook all his leaves, and expressed it as his +conviction that no good would ever come of it,--a conviction that at +once struck to the heart of every chestnut-burr. The squirrels +talked together of the dreadful state of things that would ensue. +"Why!" said old Father Gray, "it's evident that Nature made the nuts +for us; but one of these great human creatures will carry off and +gormandize upon what would keep a hundred poor families of squirrels +in comfort." Old Ground-mole said it did not require very sharp eyes +to see into the future, and it would just end in bringing down the +price of real estate in the whole vicinity, so that every decent- +minded and respectable quadruped would be obliged to move away;--for +his part, he was ready to sell out for anything he could get. The +bluebirds and bobolinks, it is true, took more cheerful views of +matters; but then, as old Mrs. Ground-mole observed, they were a +flighty set,--half their time careering and dissipating in the +Southern States,--and could not be expected to have that patriotic +attachment to their native soil that those had who had grubbed in it +from their earliest days. + +"This race of man," said the old chestnut-tree, "is never ceasing in +its restless warfare on Nature. In our forest solitudes hitherto how +peacefully, how quietly, how regularly has everything gone on! Not a +flower has missed its appointed time of blossoming, or failed to +perfect its fruit. No matter how hard has been the winter, how loud +the winds have roared, and how high the snow-banks have been piled, +all has come right again in spring. Not the least root has lost +itself under the snows, so as not to be ready with its fresh leaves +and blossoms when the sun returns to melt the frosty chains of +winter. We have storms sometimes that threaten to shake everything +to pieces,--the thunder roars, the lightning flashes, and the winds +howl and beat; but, when all is past, everything comes out better and +brighter than before,--not a bird is killed, not the frailest flower +destroyed. But man comes, and in one day he will make a desolation +that centuries cannot repair. Ignorant boor that he is, and all +incapable of appreciating the glorious works of Nature, it seems to +be his glory to be able to destroy in a few hours what it was the +work of ages to produce. The noble oak, that has been cut away to +build this contemptible human dwelling, had a life older and wiser +than that of any man in this country. That tree has seen generations +of men come and go. It was a fresh young tree when Shakespeare was +born; it was hardly a middle-aged tree when he died; it was growing +here when the first ship brought the white men to our shores, and +hundreds and hundreds of those whom they call bravest, wisest, +strongest,--warriors, statesmen, orators, and poets,--have been born, +have grown up, lived, and died, while yet it has outlived them all. +It has seen more wisdom than the best of them; but two or three hours +of brutal strength sufficed to lay it low. Which of these dolts +could make a tree? I'd like to see them do anything like it. How +noisy and clumsy are all their movements,--chopping, pounding, +rasping, hammering. And, after all, what do they build? In the +forest we do everything so quietly. A tree would be ashamed of +itself that could not get its growth without making such a noise and +dust and fuss. Our life is the perfection of good manners. For my +part, I feel degraded at the mere presence of these human beings; +but, alas! I am old; a hollow place at my heart warns me of the +progress of decay, and probably it will be seized upon by these +rapacious creatures as an excuse for laying me as low as my noble +green brother." + +In spite of all this disquiet about it, the little cottage grew and +was finished. The walls were covered with pretty paper, the floors +carpeted with pretty carpets; and, in fact, when it was all arranged, +and the garden walks laid out, and beds of flowers planted around, it +began to be confessed, even among the most critical, that it was not +after all so bad a thing as was to have been feared. + +A black ant went in one day and made a tour of exploration up and +down, over chairs and tables, up the ceilings and down again, and, +coming out, wrote an article for the Crickets' Gazette, in which he +described the new abode as a veritable palace. Several butterflies +fluttered in and sailed about and were wonderfully delighted, and +then a bumble-bee and two or three honey-bees, who expressed +themselves well pleased with the house, but more especially enchanted +with the garden. In fact, when it was found that the proprietors +were very fond of the rural solitudes of Nature, and had come out +there for the purpose of enjoying them undisturbed; that they watched +and spared the anemones, and the violets, and bloodroots, and dog's- +tooth violets, and little woolly rolls of fern that began to grow up +under the trees in spring; that they never allowed a gun to be fired +to scare the birds, and watched the building of their nests with the +greatest interest,--then an opinion in favour of human beings began +to gain ground, and every cricket and bird and beast was loud in +their praise. + +"Mamma," said young Tit-bit, a frisky young squirrel, to his mother +one day, "why won't you let Frisky and me go into that pretty new +cottage to play?" + +"My dear," said his mother, who was a very wary and careful old +squirrel, "how can you think of it? The race of man are full of +devices for traps and pitfalls, and who could say what might happen +if you put yourself in their power? If you had wings like the +butterflies and bees, you might fly in and out again, and so gratify +your curiosity; but, as matters stand, it's best for you to keep well +out of their way." + +"But, mother, there is such a nice, good lady lives there! I believe +she is a good fairy, and she seems to love us all so; she sits in the +bow-window and watches us for hours, and she scatters corn all round +at the roots of the tree for us to eat." + +"She is nice enough," said the old mother-squirrel, "if you keep far +enough off; but I tell you, you can't be too careful." + +Now this good fairy that the squirrels discoursed about was a nice +little old lady that the children used to call Aunt Esther, and she +was a dear lover of birds and squirrels, and all sorts of animals, +and had studied their little ways till she knew just what would +please them; and so she would every day throw out crumbs for the +sparrows, and little bits of bread and wool and cotton to help the +birds that were building their nests, and would scatter corn and nuts +for the squirrels; and while she sat at her work in the bow-window +she would smile to see the birds flying away with the wool, and the +squirrels nibbling their nuts. After a while the birds grew so tame +that they would hop into the bow-window and eat their crumbs off the +carpet. + +"There, mamma," said Tit-bit and Frisky, "only see Jenny Wren and +Cock Robin have been in at the bow-window, and it didn't hurt them, +and why can't we go?" + +"Well, my dears," said old Mother Squirrel, "you must do it very +carefully; never forget that you haven't wings like Jenny Wren and +Cock Robin." + +So the next day Aunt Esther laid a train of corn from the roots of +the trees to the bow-window, and then from the bow-window to her +work-basket, which stood on the floor beside her; and then she put +quite a handful of corn in the work-basket, and sat down by it, and +seemed intent on her sewing. Very soon, creep, creep, creep, came +Tit-bit and Frisky to the window, and then into the room, just as sly +and as still as could be, and Aunt Esther sat just like a statue for +fear of disturbing them. They looked all around in high glee, and +when they came to the basket it seemed to them a wonderful little +summer-house, made on purpose for them to play in. They nosed about +in it, and turned over the scissors and the needle-book, and took a +nibble at her white wax, and jostled the spools, meanwhile stowing +away the corn on each side of their little chops, till they both of +them looked as if they had the mumps. + +At last Aunt Esther put out her hand to touch them, when, whisk- +frisk, out they went, and up the trees, chattering and laughing +before she had time even to wink. + +But after this they used to come in every day, and when she put corn +in her hand and held it very still they would eat out of it; and +finally they would get into her hand, until one day she gently closed +it over them, and Frisky and Tit-bit were fairly caught. + +Oh, how their hearts beat! but the good fairy only spoke gently to +them, and soon unclosed her hand and let them go again. So day after +day they grew to have more and more faith in her, till they would +climb into her work-basket, sit on her shoulder, or nestle away in +her lap as she sat sewing. They made also long exploring voyages all +over the house, up and through all the chambers, till finally, I +grieve to say, poor Frisky came to an untimely end by being drowned +in the water-tank at the top of the house. + +The dear good fairy passed away from the house in time, and went to a +land where the flowers never fade and the birds never die; but the +squirrels still continue to make the place a favourite resort. + +"In fact, my dear," said old Mother Red one winter to her mate, "what +is the use of one's living in this cold, hollow tree, when these +amiable people have erected this pretty cottage, where there is +plenty of room for us and them too? Now I have examined between the +eaves, and there is a charming place where we can store our nuts, and +where we can whip in and out of the garret, and have the free range +of the house; and, say what you will, these humans have delightful +ways of being warm and comfortable in winter." + +So Mr. and Mrs. Red set up housekeeping in the cottage, and had no +end of nuts and other good things stored up there. The trouble of +all this was, that, as Mrs. Red was a notable body, and got up to +begin her housekeeping operations, and woke up all her children, at +four o'clock in the morning, the good people often were disturbed by +a great rattling and fuss in the walls, while yet it seemed dark +night. Then sometimes, too, I grieve to say, Mrs. Squirrel would +give her husband vigorous curtain lectures in the night, which made +him so indignant that he would rattle off to another quarter of the +garret to sleep by himself; and all this broke the rest of the worthy +people who built the house. + +What is to be done about this we don't know. What would you do about +it? Would you let the squirrels live in your house or not? When our +good people come down of a cold winter morning, and see the squirrels +dancing and frisking down the trees, and chasing each other so +merrily over the garden chair between them, or sitting with their +tails saucily over their backs, they look so jolly and jaunty and +pretty that they almost forgive them for disturbing their night's +rest, and think that they will not do anything to drive them out of +the garret to-day. And so it goes on; but how long the squirrels +will rent the cottage in this fashion, I'm sure I dare not undertake +to say. + + + +HUM, THE SON OF BUZ + + + +At Rye Beach, during our summer's vacation, there came, as there +always will to seaside visitors, two or three cold, chilly, rainy +days,--days when the skies that long had not rained a drop seemed +suddenly to bethink themselves of their remissness, and to pour down +water, not by drops, but by pailfuls. The chilly wind blew and +whistled, the water dashed along the ground and careered in foamy +rills along the roadside, and the bushes bent beneath the constant +flood. It was plain that there was to be no sea-bathing on such a +day, no walks, no rides; and so, shivering and drawing our blanket- +shawls close about us, we sat down at the window to watch the storm +outside. + +The rose-bushes under the window hung dripping under their load of +moisture, each spray shedding a constant shower on the spray below +it. On one of these lower sprays, under the perpetual drip, what +should we see but a poor little humming-bird, drawn up into the +tiniest shivering ball, and clinging with a desperate grasp to his +uncomfortable perch. A humming-bird we knew him to be at once, +though his feathers were so matted and glued down by the rain that he +looked not much bigger than a honey-bee, and as different as possible +from the smart, pert, airy little character that we had so often seen +flirting with the flowers. He was evidently a humming-bird in +adversity, and whether he ever would hum again looked to us +exceedingly doubtful. Immediately, however, we sent out to have him +taken in. When the friendly hand seized him, he gave a little, +faint, watery squeak, evidently thinking that his last hour was come, +and that grim death was about to carry him off to the land of dead +birds. What a time we had reviving him,--holding the little wet +thing in the warm hollow of our hands, and feeling him shiver and +palpitate! His eyes were fast closed; his tiny claws, which looked +slender as cobwebs, were knotted close to his body, and it was long +before one could feel the least motion in them. Finally, to our +great joy, we felt a brisk little kick, and then a flutter of wings, +and then a determined peck of the beak, which showed that there was +sonic bird left in him yet, and that he meant at any rate to find out +where he was. + +Unclosing our hands a small space, out popped the little head with a +pair of round brilliant eyes. Then we bethought ourselves of feeding +him, and forthwith prepared him a stiff glass of sugar and water, a +drop of which we held to his bill. After turning his head +attentively, like a bird who knew what he was about and didn't mean +to be chaffed, he briskly put out a long, flexible tongue, slightly +forked at the end, and licked off the comfortable beverage with great +relish. Immediately he was pronounced out of danger by the small +humane society which had undertaken the charge of his restoration, +and we began to cast about for getting him a settled establishment in +our apartment. I gave up my work-box to him for a sleeping-room, and +it was medically ordered that he should take a nap. So we filled the +box with cotton, and he was formally put to bed, with a folded +cambric handkerchief round his neck, to keep him from beating his +wings. Out of his white wrappings he looked forth green and grave as +any judge with his bright round eyes. Like a bird of discretion, he +seemed to understand what was being done to him, and resigned himself +sensibly to go to sleep. + +The box was covered with a sheet of paper perforated with holes for +purposes of ventilation; for even humming-birds have a little pair of +lungs, and need their own little portion of air to fill them, so that +they may make bright scarlet little drops of blood to keep life's +fire burning in their tiny bodies. Our bird's lungs manufactured +brilliant blood, as we found out by experience; for in his first nap +he contrived to nestle himself into the cotton of which his bed was +made, and to get more of it than he needed into his long bill. We +pulled it out as carefully as we could, but there came out of his +bill two round, bright scarlet, little drops of blood. Our chief +medical authority looked grave, pronounced a probable hemorrhage from +the lungs, and gave him over at once. We, less scientific, declared +that we had only cut his little tongue by drawing out the filaments +of cotton, and that he would do well enough in time,--as it +afterwards appeared he did, for from that day there was no more +bleeding. In the course of the second day he began to take short +flights about the room, though he seemed to prefer to return to us; +perching on our fingers or heads or shoulders, and sometimes choosing +to sit in this way for half an hour at a time. "These great giants," +he seemed to say to himself, "are not bad people after all; they have +a comfortable way with them; how nicely they dried and warmed me! +Truly a bird might do worse than to live with them." + +So he made up his mind to form a fourth in the little company of +three that usually sat and read, worked and sketched, in that +apartment, and we christened him "Hum, the son of Buz." He became an +individuality, a character, whose little doings formed a part of +every letter, and some extracts from these will show what some of his +little ways were:- + +"Hum has learned to sit upon my finger, and eat his sugar and water +out of a teaspoon with most Christian-like decorum. He has but one +weakness--he will occasionally jump into the spoon and sit in his +sugar and water, and then appear to wonder where it goes to. His +plumage is in rather a drabbled state, owing to these performances. +I have sketched him as he sat to-day on a bit of Spiraea which I +brought in for him. When absorbed in reflection, he sits with his +bill straight up in the air, as I have drawn him. Mr. A- reads +Macaulay to us, and you should see the wise air with which, perched +on Jenny's thumb, he cocked his head now one side and then the other, +apparently listening with most critical attention. His confidence in +us seems unbounded: he lets us stroke his head, smooth his feathers, +without a flutter; and is never better pleased than when sitting, as +he has been doing all this while, on my hand, turning up his bill, +and watching my face with great edification. + +"I have just been having a sort of maternal struggle to make him go +to bed in his box; but he evidently considers himself sufficiently +convalescent to make a stand for his rights as a bird, and so +scratched indignantly out of his wrappings, and set himself up to +roost on the edge of the box, with an air worthy of a turkey, at the +very least. Having brought in a lamp, he has opened his eyes round +and wide, and sits cocking his little head at me reflectively." + +When the weather cleared away, and the sun came out bright, Hum +became entirely well, and seemed resolved to take the measure of his +new life with us. Our windows were closed in the lower part of the +sash by frames with mosquito gauze, so that the sun and air found +free admission, and yet our little rover could not pass out. On the +first sunny day he took an exact survey of our apartment from ceiling +to floor, humming about, examining every point with his bill--all the +crevices, mouldings, each little indentation in the bed-posts, each +window-pane, each chair and stand; and, as it was a very simply +furnished seaside apartment, his scrutiny was soon finished. We +wondered at first what this was all about; but on watching him more +closely, we found that he was actively engaged in getting his living, +by darting out his long tongue hither and thither, and drawing in all +the tiny flies and insects which in summer time are to be found in an +apartment. In short, we found that, though the nectar of flowers was +his dessert, yet he had his roast beef and mutton-chop to look after, +and that his bright, brilliant blood was not made out of a simple +vegetarian diet. Very shrewd and keen he was, too, in measuring the +size of insects before he attempted to swallow them. The smallest +class were whisked off with lightning speed; but about larger ones he +would sometimes wheel and hum for some minutes, darting hither and +thither, and surveying them warily, and if satisfied that they could +be carried, he would come down with a quick, central dart which would +finish the unfortunate at a snap. The larger flies seemed to +irritate him, especially when they intimated to him that his plumage +was sugary, by settling on his wings and tail; when he would lay +about him spitefully, wielding his bill like a sword. A grasshopper +that strayed in, and was sunning himself on the window-seat, gave him +great discomposure. Hum evidently considered him an intruder, and +seemed to long to make a dive at him; but, with characteristic +prudence, confined himself to threatening movements, which did not +exactly hit. He saw evidently that he could not swallow him whole, +and what might ensue from trying him piecemeal he wisely forbore to +essay. + +Hum had his own favourite places and perches. From the first day he +chose for his nightly roost a towel-line which had been drawn across +the corner over the wash-stand, where he every night established +himself with one claw in the edge of the towel and the other clasping +the line, and, ruffling up his feathers till he looked like a little +chestnut-burr, he would resign himself to the soundest sleep. He did +not tuck his head under his wing, but seemed to sink it down between +his shoulders, with his bill almost straight up in the air. One +evening one of us, going to use the towel, jarred the line, and soon +after found that Hum had been thrown from his perch, and was hanging +head downward, fast asleep, still clinging to the line. Another +evening, being discomposed by somebody coming to the towel-line after +he had settled himself, he fluttered off; but so sleepy that he had +not discretion to poise himself again, and was found clinging, like a +little bunch of green floss silk, to the mosquito netting of the +window. + +A day after this we brought in a large green bough, and put it up +over the looking-glass. Hum noticed it before it had been there five +minutes, flew to it, and began a regular survey, perching now here, +now there, till he seemed to find a twig that exactly suited him; and +after that he roosted there every night. Who does not see in this +change all the signs of reflection and reason that are shown by us in +thinking over our circumstances, and trying to better them? It +seemed to say in so many words: "That towel-line is an unsafe place +for a bird; I get frightened, and wake from bad dreams to find myself +head downwards; so I will find a better roost on this twig." + +When our little Jenny one day put on a clean white muslin gown +embellished with red sprigs, Hum flew towards her, and with his bill +made instant examination of these new appearances; and one day, being +very affectionately disposed, perched himself on her shoulder, and +sat some time. On another occasion, while Mr. A was reading, Hum +established himself on the top of his head just over the middle of +his forehead, in the precise place where our young belles have lately +worn stuffed humming-birds, making him look as if dressed out for a +party. Hum's most favourite perch was the back of the great rocking- +chair, which, being covered by a tidy, gave some hold into which he +could catch his little claws. There he would sit, balancing himself +cleverly if its occupant chose to swing to and fro, and seeming to be +listening to the conversation or reading. + +Hum had his different moods, like human beings. On cold, cloudy, +gray days he appeared to be somewhat depressed in spirits, hummed +less about the room, and sat humped up with his feathers ruffled, +looking as much like a bird in a great-coat as possible. But on hot, +sunny days, every feather sleeked itself down, and his little body +looked natty and trim, his head alert, his eyes bright, and it was +impossible to come near him, for his agility. Then let mosquitoes +and little flies look about them! Hum snapped them up without mercy, +and seemed to be all over the ceiling in a moment, and resisted all +our efforts at any personal familiarity with a saucy alacrity. + +Hum had his established institutions in our room, the chief of which +was a tumbler with a little sugar and water mixed in it, and a spoon +laid across, out of which he helped himself whenever he felt in the +mood--sitting on the edge of the tumbler, and dipping his long bill, +and lapping with his little forked tongue like a kitten. When he +found his spoon accidentally dry, he would stoop over and dip his +bill in the water in the tumbler; which caused the prophecy on the +part of some of his guardians that he would fall in some--day and be +drowned. For which reason it was agreed to keep only an inch in +depth of the fluid at the bottom of the tumbler. A wise precaution +this proved; for the next morning I was awaked, not by the usual hum +over my head, but by a sharp little flutter, and found Mr. Hum +beating his wings in the tumbler--having actually tumbled in during +his energetic efforts to get his morning coffee before I was awake. + +Hum seemed perfectly happy and satisfied in his quarters; but one +day, when the door was left open, he made a dart out, and so into the +open sunshine. Then, to be sure, we thought we had lost him. We +took the mosquito netting, out of all the windows, and, setting his +tumbler of sugar and water in a conspicuous place, went about our +usual occupations. We saw him joyous and brisk among the +honeysuckles outside the window, and it was gravely predicted that he +would return no more. But at dinner-time in came Hum, familiar as +possible, and sat down to his spoon as if nothing had happened. +Instantly we closed our windows and had him secure once more. + +At another time I was going to ride to the Atlantic House, about a +mile from my boarding-place. I left all secure, as I supposed, at +home. While gathering moss on the walls there, I was surprised by a +little green humming-bird flying familiarly right towards my face and +humming above my head. I called out, "Here is Hum's very brother." +But, on returning home, I saw that the door of the room was open, and +Hum was gone. Now certainly we gave him up for lost. I sat down to +painting, and in a few minutes in flew Hum, and settled on the edge +of my tumbler in a social, confidential way, which seemed to say, +"Oh, you've got back then." After taking his usual drink of sugar +and water, he began to fly about the ceiling as usual, and we gladly +shut him in. + +When our five weeks at the seaside were up, and it was time to go +home, we had great questionings what was to be done with Hum. To get +him home with us was our desire; but who ever heard of a humming-bird +travelling by railroad? Great were the consultings. A little basket +of Indian work was filled up with cambric handkerchiefs, and a bottle +of sugar and water provided, and we started with him for a day's +journey. When we arrived at night the first care was to see what had +become of Hum, who had not been looked at since we fed him with sugar +and water in Boston. We found him alive and well, but so dead asleep +that we could not wake him to roost; so we put him to bed on a toilet +cushion, and arranged his tumbler for morning. The next day found +him alive and humming, exploring the room and pictures, perching now +here and now there; but as the weather was chilly, he sat for the +most part of the time in a humped-up state on the tip of a pair of +stag's horns. We moved him to a more sunny apartment; but, alas! the +equinoctial storm came on, and there was no sun to be had for days. +Hum was blue; the pleasant seaside days were over; his room was +lonely, the pleasant three that had enlivened the apartment at Rye no +longer came in and out; evidently he was lonesome, and gave way to +depression. One chilly morning he managed again to fall into his +tumbler, and wet himself through; and notwithstanding warm bathings +and tender nursings, the poor little fellow seemed to get diphtheria, +or something quite as bad for humming-birds. + +We carried him to a neighbouring sunny parlour, where ivy embowers +all the walls and the sun lies all day. There he revived a little, +danced up and down, perched on a green spray that was wreathed across +the breast of a Psyche, and looked then like a little flitting soul +returning to its rest. Towards evening he drooped; and, having been +nursed and warmed and cared for, he was put to sleep on a green twig +laid on the piano. In that sleep the little head drooped--nodded-- +fell; and little Hum went where other bright dreams go--to the Land +of the Hereafter. + + + +OUR COUNTRY NEIGHBOURS + + + +We have just built our house in rather an out-of-the-way place--on +the bank of a river, and under the shade of a patch of woods which is +a veritable remain of quite an ancient forest. The checkerberry and +partridge-plum, with their glossy green leaves and scarlet berries, +still carpet the ground under its deep shadows; and prince's-pine and +other kindred evergreens declare its native wildness,--for these are +children of the wild woods, that never come after plough and harrow +have once broken a soil. + +When we tried to look out the spot for our house, we had to get a +surveyor to go before us and cut a path through the dense underbrush +that was laced together in a general network of boughs and leaves, +and grew so high as to overtop our heads. Where the house stands, +four or five great old oaks and chestnuts had to be cut away to let +it in; and now it stands on the bank of the river, the edges of which +are still overhung with old forest-trees, chestnuts and oaks, which +look at themselves in the glassy stream. + +A little knoll near the house was chosen for a garden-spot; a dense, +dark mass of trees above, of bushes in mid-air, and of all sorts of +ferns and wild-flowers and creeping vines on the ground. All these +had to be cleared out, and a dozen great trees cut down and dragged +off to a neighbouring saw-mill, there to be transformed into boards +to finish off our house. Then, fetching a great machine, such as +might be used to pull a giant's teeth, with ropes, pulleys, oxen, and +men, and might and main, we pulled out the stumps, with their great +prongs and their network of roots and fibres; and then, alas! we had +to begin with all the pretty wild, lovely bushes, and the +checkerberries and ferns and wild blackberries and huckleberry- +bushes, and dig them up remorselessly, that we might plant our corn +and squashes. And so we got a house and a garden right out of the +heart of our piece of wild wood, about a mile from the city of H-. + +Well, then, people said it was a lonely place, and far from +neighbours,--by which they meant that it was a good way for them to +come to see us. But we soon found that whoever goes into the woods +to live finds neighbours of a new kind, and some to whom it is rather +hard to become accustomed. + +For instance, on a fine day early in April, as we were crossing over +to superintend the building of our house, we were startled by a +striped snake, with his little bright eyes, raising himself to look +at us, and putting out his red, forked tongue. Now there is no more +harm in these little garden-snakes than there is in a robin or a +squirrel--they are poor little, peaceable, timid creatures, which +could not do any harm if they would; but the prejudices of society +are so strong against them that one does not like to cultivate too +much intimacy with them. So we tried to turn out of our path into a +tangle of bushes; and there, instead of one, we found four snakes. +We turned on the other side, and there were two more. In short, +everywhere we looked, the dry leaves were rustling and coiling with +them; and we were in despair. In vain we said that they were +harmless as kittens, and tried to persuade ourselves that their +little bright eyes were pretty, and that their serpentine movements +were in the exact line of beauty: for the life of us, we could not +help remembering their family name and connections; we thought of +those disagreeable gentlemen the anacondas, the rattlesnakes, and the +copper-heads, and all of that bad line, immediate family friends of +the old serpent to whom we are indebted for all the mischief that is +done in this world. So we were quite apprehensive when we saw how +our new neighbourhood was infested by them, until a neighbour calmed +our fears by telling us that snakes always crawled out of their holes +to sun themselves in the spring, and that in a day or two they would +all be gone. + +So it proved. It was evident they were all out merely to do their +spring shopping, or something that serves with them the same purpose +that spring shopping does with us; and where they went afterwards we +do not know. People speak of snakes' holes, and we have seen them +disappearing into such subterranean chambers; but we never opened one +to see what sort of underground housekeeping went on there. After +the first few days of spring, a snake was a rare visitor, though now +and then one appeared. + +One was discovered taking his noontide repast one day in a manner +which excited much prejudice. He was, in fact, regaling himself by +sucking down into his maw a small frog, which he had begun to swallow +at the toes, and had drawn about half down. The frog, it must be +confessed, seemed to view this arrangement with great indifference, +making no struggle, and sitting solemnly, with his great unwinking +eyes, to be sucked in at the leisure of his captor. There was +immense sympathy, however, excited for him in the family circle; and +it was voted that a snake which indulged in such very disagreeable +modes of eating his dinner was not to be tolerated in our vicinity. +So I have reason to believe that that was his last meal. + +Another of our wild woodland neighbours made us some trouble. It was +no other than a veritable woodchuck, whose hole we had often wondered +at when we were scrambling through the underbrush after spring +flowers. The hole was about the size of a peck-measure, and had two +openings about six feet apart. The occupant was a gentleman we never +had had the pleasure of seeing, but we soon learned his existence +from his ravages in our garden. He had a taste, it appears, for the +very kind of things we wanted to eat ourselves, and helped himself +without asking. We had a row of fine, crisp heads of lettuce, which +were the pride of our gardening, and out of which he would from day +to day select for his table just the plants we had marked for ours. +He also nibbled our young beans; and so at last we were reluctantly +obliged to let John Gardiner set a trap for him. Poor old simple- +minded hermit, he was too artless for this world! He was caught at +the very first snap, and found dead in the trap,--the agitation and +distress having broken his poor woodland heart, and killed him. We +were grieved to the very soul when the poor fat old fellow was +dragged out, with his useless paws standing up stiff and imploring. +As it was, he was given to Denis, our pig, which, without a single +scruple of delicacy, ate him up as thoroughly as he ate up the +lettuce. + +This business of eating, it appears, must go on all through creation. +We eat ducks, turkeys, and chickens, though we don't swallow them +whole, feathers and all. Our four-footed friends, less civilized, +take things with more directness and simplicity, and chew each other +up without ceremony, or swallow each other alive. Of these +unceremonious habits we had other instances. + +Our house had a central court on the southern side, into which looked +the library, dining-room, and front hall, as well as several of the +upper chambers. It was designed to be closed in with glass, to serve +as a conservatory in winter; and meanwhile we had filled it with +splendid plumy ferns, taken up out of the neighbouring wood. In the +centre was a fountain surrounded by stones, shells, mosses, and +various water-plants. We had bought three little goldfish to swim in +our basin; and the spray of it, as it rose in the air and rippled +back into the water, was the pleasantest possible sound of a hot day. +We used to lie on the sofa in the hall, and look into the court, and +fancy we saw some scene of fairy-land, and water-sprites coming up +from the fountain. Suddenly a new-comer presented himself,--no other +than an immense bull-frog, that had hopped up from the neighbouring +river, apparently with a view to making a permanent settlement in and +about our fountain. He was to be seen, often for hours, sitting +reflectively on the edge of it, beneath the broad shadow of the +calla-leaves. When sometimes missed thence, he would be found under +the ample shield of a great bignonia, whose striped leaves grew hard +by. + +The family were prejudiced against him. What did he want there? It +was surely some sinister motive impelled him. He was probably +watching for an opportunity to gobble up the goldfish. We took his +part, however, and strenuously defended his moral character, and +patronized him in all ways. We gave him the name of Unke, and +maintained that he was a well-conducted, philosophical old water- +sprite, who showed his good taste in wanting to take up his abode in +our conservatory. We even defended his personal appearance, praised +the invisible-green coat which he wore on his back, and his gray +vest, and solemn gold spectacles; and though he always felt +remarkably slimy when we touched him, yet, as he would sit still and +allow us to stroke his head and pat his back, we concluded his social +feelings might be warm, notwithstanding a cold exterior. Who knew, +after all, but he might be a beautiful young prince, enchanted there +till the princess should come to drop the golden ball into the +fountain, and so give him a chance to marry her and turn into a man +again? Such things, we are credibly informed, are matters of +frequent occurrence in Germany. Why not here? + +By-and-by there came to our fountain another visitor,--a frisky, +green young frog of the identical kind spoken of by the poet + + +"There was a frog lived in a well, +Rig dum pully metakimo." + + +This thoughtless, dapper individual, with his bright green coat, his +faultless white vest, and sea-green tights, became rather the popular +favourite. He seemed just rakish and gallant enough to fulfil the +conditions of the song + + +"The frog he would a-courting ride, +With sword and pistol by his side." + + +This lively young fellow, whom we shall call Cri-Cri, like other +frisky and gay young people, carried the day quite over the head of +the solemn old philosopher under the calla-leaves. At night, when +all was still, he would trill a joyous little note in his throat, +while old Unke would answer only with a cracked guttural more +singular than agreeable; and to all outward appearance the two were +as good friends as their different natures would allow. + +One day, however, the conservatory became the scene of a tragedy of +the deepest dye. We were summoned below by shrieks and howls of +horror. "Do pray come down and see what this vile, nasty, horrid old +frog has been doing!" Down we came; and there sat our virtuous old +philosopher, with his poor little brother's hind legs still sticking +out of the corner of his mouth, as if he were smoking them for a +cigar, all helplessly palpitating as they were. In fact, our solemn +old friend had done what many a solemn hypocrite before has done,-- +swallowed his poor brother, neck and crop,--and sat there with the +most brazen indifference, looking as if he had done the most proper +and virtuous thing in the world. + +Immediately he was marched out of the conservatory at the point of a +walking-stick, and made to hop down to the river, into whose waters +he splashed, and we saw him no more. We regret to say that the +popular indignation was so precipitate in its results; otherwise the +special artist who sketched Hum, the son of Buz, intended to have +made a sketch of the old villain, as he sat with his luckless +victim's hind legs projecting from his solemn mouth. With all his +moral faults, he was a good sitter, and would probably have sat +immovable any length of time that could be desired. + +Of other woodland neighbours there were some which we saw +occasionally. The shores of the river were lined here and there with +the holes of the muskrats; and in rowing by their settlements, we +were sometimes strongly reminded of them by the overpowering odour of +the perfume from which they get their name. There were also owls, +whose nests were high up in some of the old chestnut-trees. Often in +the lonely hours of the night we could hear them gibbering with a +sort of wild, hollow laugh among the distant trees. But one tenant +of the woods made us some trouble in the autumn. It was a little +flying-squirrel, who took to making excursions into our house in the +night season, coming down the chimney into the chambers, rustling +about among the clothes, cracking nuts or nibbling at any morsels of +anything that suited his fancy. For a long time the inmates of the +rooms were awakened in the night by mysterious noises, thumps, and +rappings, and so lighted candles, and searched in vain to find whence +they came; for the moment any movement was made, the rogue whipped up +the chimney, and left us a prey to the most mysterious alarms. What +could it be? + +But one night our fine gentleman bounced in at the window of another +room, which had no fireplace; and the fair occupant, rising in the +night, shut the window, without suspecting that she had cut off the +retreat of any of her woodland neighbours. The next morning she was +startled by what she thought a gray rat running past her bed. She +rose to pursue him, when he ran up the wall, and clung against the +plastering, showing himself very plainly a gray flying-squirrel, with +large, soft eyes, and wings which consisted of a membrane uniting the +fore paws to the hind ones, like those of a bat. He was chased into +the conservatory, and a window being opened, out he flew upon the +ground, and made away for his native woods, and thus put an end to +many fears as to the nature of our nocturnal rappings. + +So you see how many neighbours we found by living in the woods, and, +after all, no worse ones than are found in the great world. + + + +THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF LITTLE WHISKEY + + + +And now, at the last, I am going to tell you something of the ways +and doings of one of the queer little people, whom I shall call +Whiskey. + +You cannot imagine how pretty he is. His back has the most beautiful +smooth shining stripes of reddish brown and black, his eyes shine +like bright glass beads, and he sits up jauntily on his hind +quarters, with his little tail thrown over his back like a ruffle. + +And where does he live? Well, "that is telling," as we children say. +It was somewhere up in the mountains of Berkshire, in a queer, +quaint, old-fashioned garden, that I made Mr. Whiskey's acquaintance. + +Here there lives a young parson, who preaches every Sunday in a +little brown church, and during week-days goes through all these +hills and valleys, visiting the poor, and gathering children into +Sunday schools. + +His wife is a very small-sized lady--not much bigger than you, my +little Mary--but very fond of all sorts of dumb animals; and by +constantly watching their actions and ways, she has come to have +quite a strange power over them, as I shall relate. + +The little lady fixed her mind on Whiskey, and gave him his name +without consulting him upon the subject. She admired his bright +eyes, and resolved to cultivate his acquaintance. + +By constant watching, she discovered that he had a small hole of his +own in the grass-plot a few paces from her back-door. So she used to +fill her pocket with hazel-nuts, and go out and sit in the back +porch, and make a little noise, such as squirrels make to each other, +to attract his attention. + +In a minute or two up would pop the little head with the bright eyes, +in the grass-plot, and Master Whiskey would sit on his haunches and +listen, with one small ear cocked towards her. Then she would throw +him a hazel-nut, and he would slip instantly down into his hole +again. In a minute or two, however, his curiosity would get the +better of his prudence; and she, sitting quiet, would see the little +brown-striped head slowly, slowly coming up again, over the tiny +green spikes of the grass-plot. Quick as a flash he would dart at +the nut, whisk it into a little bag on one side of his jaws, which +Madam Nature has furnished him with for his provision-pouch, and down +into his hole again. An ungrateful, suspicious little brute he was +too; for though in this way he bagged and carried off nut after nut, +until the patient little woman had used up a pound of hazelnuts, +still he seemed to have the same wild fright at sight of her, and +would whisk off and hide himself in his hole the moment she appeared. +In vain she called, "Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey," in the most +flattering tones; in vain she coaxed and cajoled. No, no; he was not +to be caught napping. He had no objection to accepting her nuts, as +many as she chose to throw to him; but as to her taking any personal +liberty with him, you see, it was by no means to be thought of. + +But at last patience and perseverance began to have their reward. +Little Master Whiskey said to himself, "Surely this is a nice, kind +lady, to take so much pains to give me nuts; she is certainly very +considerate;" and with that he edged a little nearer and nearer every +day, until, quite to the delight of the small lady, he would come and +climb into her lap and seize the nuts, when she rattled them there, +and after that he seemed to make exploring voyages all over her +person. He would climb up and sit on her shoulder; he would mount +and perch himself on her head; and when she held a nut for him +between her teeth, he would take it out of her mouth. + +After a while he began to make tours of discovery in the house. He +would suddenly appear on the minister's writing-table when he was +composing his Sunday sermon, and sit cocking his little pert head at +him, seeming to wonder what he was about. But in all his +explorations he proved himself a true Yankee squirrel, having always +a shrewd eye on the main chance. If the parson dropped a nut on the +floor, down went Whiskey after it, and into his provision-bag it +went, and then he would look up as if he expected another; for he had +a wallet on each side of his jaws, and he always wanted both sides +handsomely filled before he made for his hole. So busy and active +and always intent on this one object was he, that before long the +little lady found he had made way with six pounds of hazel-nuts. His +general rule was to carry off four nuts at a time--three being +stuffed into the side-pockets of his jaws, and the fourth held in his +teeth. When he had furnished himself in this way, he would dart like +lightning for his hole, and disappear in a moment; but in a short +time up he would come, brisk and wide-awake, and ready for the next +supply. + +Once a person who had the curiosity to dig open a chipping squirrel's +hole found in it two quarts of buckwheat, a quantity of grass-seed, +nearly a peck of acorns, some Indian corn, and a quart of walnuts; a +pretty handsome supply for a squirrel's winter store-room--don't you +think so? + +Whiskey learned in time to work for his living in many artful ways +that his young mistress devised. Sometimes she would tie his nuts up +in a paper package, which he would attack with great energy, gnawing +the strings, and rustling the nuts out of the paper in wonderfully +quick time. Sometimes she would tie a nut to the end of a bit of +twine and swing it backward and forward over his head; and after a +succession of spry jumps, he would pounce upon it, and hang swinging +on the twine, till he had gnawed the nut away. + +Another squirrel, doubtless hearing of Whiskey's good luck, began to +haunt the same yard; but Whiskey would by no means allow him to +cultivate his young mistress's acquaintance. No indeed! he evidently +considered that the institution would not support two. Sometimes he +would appear to be conversing with the stranger on the most familiar +and amicable terms in the back-yard; but if his mistress called his +name, he would immediately start and chase his companion quite out of +sight, before he came back to her. + +So you see that self-seeking is not confined to men alone, and that +Whiskey's fine little fur coat covers a very selfish heart. + +As winter comes on, Whiskey will go down into his hole, which has +many long galleries and winding passages, and a snug little bedroom +well lined with leaves. Here he will doze and dream away his long +winter months, and nibble out the inside of his store of nuts. + +If I hear any more of his cunning tricks, I will tell you of them. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Queer Little Folks, by Harriet Beecher Stowe + diff --git a/old/qltfk10.zip b/old/qltfk10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8266743 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/qltfk10.zip |
