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diff --git a/43287-0.txt b/43287-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a57460 --- /dev/null +++ b/43287-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2389 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43287 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the lovely original illustrations. + See 43287-h.htm or 43287-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/43287/43287-h/43287-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/43287/43287-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + https://archive.org/details/fatherthrift00sind + + + + + +FATHER THRIFT AND HIS ANIMAL FRIENDS + +by + +JOSEPH C. SINDELAR + +Author of +The Nixie Bunny Books + +With Pictures by Helen Geraldine Hodge + + + + + + + +Beckley-Cardy Company +Chicago + + + * * * * * + + BOOKS BY JOSEPH C. SINDELAR + BOW-WOW AND MEW-MEW (Craik-Sindelar). Illustrated in colors. + NIXIE BUNNY IN MANNERS-LAND. Illustrated in colors. + NIXIE BUNNY IN WORKADAY-LAND. Illustrated in colors. + NIXIE BUNNY IN HOLIDAY-LAND. Illustrated in colors. + NIXIE BUNNY IN FARAWAY-LANDS. Illustrated in colors. + FATHER THRIFT AND HIS ANIMAL FRIENDS. Illustrated in black and color. + MORNING EXERCISES FOR ALL THE YEAR. + BEST MEMORY GEMS. + BRIGHT ENTERTAINMENTS FOR CHRISTMAS. + THE BEST THANKSGIVING BOOK. + THE BEST CHRISTMAS BOOK. + MERRY CHRISTMAS ENTERTAINMENTS. + CLOSING DAY ENTERTAINMENTS. + + * * * * * + + +Copyright, 1918, by Joseph C. Sindelar +All Rights Reserved + +Printed in the United States of America + + + + + To + Joseph C. Jr. + and + his friends + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + The Queer Little Old Man 11 + The Little Old Man Decides 17 + His First Day in the Forest 23 + Great Gray Owl 29 + The Animals of the Forest 35 + What Made the Bear Sick 41 + How the Woodpeckers Helped 47 + The Busy Beavers 53 + The Gray Foxes and the Red Foxes 59 + Red Squirrel and Bunny Cottontail 65 + Shaggy Bear's Mistake 71 + The Sweetest Thing in the Forest 77 + Robins, Crows, and Blackbirds 85 + The Little Raindrops 91 + Trouble in the Forest 97 + Two Bad Boys 103 + The Boys and the Birds 109 + Insects and Worms 115 + After Many Days 123 + + + + +Introduction + + + As from the days your father's father knew, + This little story book now comes to you. + So when you turn its pages, heed them well: + Though strange the stories, many truths they tell. + + They tell of animals and birds and trees, + Of children, flowers, and honeybees; + Of a queer old man, and a quaint old town + With crooked streets that ran up and down. + + They tell of these and many, many more. + Still, this I'd add to what has gone before: + In the wood there grows a tree--the thrifty tree-- + As wonderful as anything can be! + + Its trunk is copper; silver are its leaves; + Its blossoms from bright golden threads it weaves; + Its fruit is health and wealth and honest joy-- + So seek this goodly tree, wise girl and boy. + + + + +FATHER THRIFT AND HIS ANIMAL FRIENDS + + + + +THE QUEER LITTLE OLD MAN + + +Once upon a time, in a quaint old town, there lived a queer little old +man. His name was Thrift--Father Thrift people called him, although he +really was no father at all. + +As I said before, he was just a queer little old man. He had no wife, +no children, no home of his own. + +But he had a kind heart within his queer little body. Also, he had +willing hands and feet, and these brought him many friends. + +How old the queer little man was, or how long he had lived in the +quaint old town, no one seemed to know. + +The present grandfathers and grandmothers remembered how the queer +little man used to take them, as children, on his lap and tell them +stories. + +He had told the same stories to their children and to their children's +children. Yet to none of them did he look any different to-day than he +did when they first saw him. + +You must not think that telling stories was all the queer little old +man had to do. He was a sort of all-round village helper. He helped +everybody who needed help. + +But it was for his good advice that the queer little old man was most +sought. He always thought well for everybody, and the people profited +by following his teaching. + +In fact, the whole town grew prosperous, _extremely_ prosperous, by +heeding Father Thrift's advice. + +You would suppose that the queer little old man would be well +rewarded. + +Not so! For when these people became very, _very_ prosperous, they +felt that the queer little old man was only in their way. + +What further need had they of his advice? + +He had taught them to live simply, to spend wisely, and to waste +nothing. He had taught them to enjoy simple pleasures and to form +simple habits. + +"Of what good is time or money, body or brain, if we do not know how +to use any of them?" he would say. + +"What will become of good health if we do not take care of it? + +"Of what good is study-time or play-time unless we get the most we can +out of it? + +"Or of what worth is life itself if we waste it?" + +But the townspeople would not listen to him now. Young Mr. Spendthrift +had come to town and they followed him. They only laughed at Father +Thrift. + +"Poor, queer old man!" they said. "He must be out of his head." + +And they began to spend money foolishly, and to waste their time and +their health as well as their money. + +_How_ it grieved the queer little old man to see things go so! + +Day after day he would sit with his head in his hands, thinking, +thinking, _thinking_. (He liked to think even better than most people +like to eat.) + +Then one day, after he had sat for a long, long time thinking, he got +up and exclaimed: "At last, at last I have it! I'm sure I have it, +this time. Yes, I'm sure." + +And those who heard the queer little old man said: "Just as we told +you. Poor fellow, he's out of his head! Some of the wheels up here +have gotten badly out of order." And they pointed to their foreheads. + +But the old man heard them not. Or if he heard he lost no sleep on +account of what they said. + + + + +THE LITTLE OLD MAN DECIDES + + +The next day the whole town was busy--very busy--gossiping. Everybody +told everybody else what the queer little old man had been overheard +to say. + +But where was the little old man? + +Now that they thought of it, who had seen him since the night before? + +Nobody! + +Where could he be? Had he dropped through a crack in the floor, his +disappearance could not have been more sudden or more complete. + +Every one was excited. It was not that the town cared particularly +about the queer little old man. It was not that, at all. Only the +people were curious to learn where he could have gone or what could +have happened to him. + + * * * * * + +Leading from the town was a crooked road that was traveled but little. +At the end of the road was a great forest where there lived many +animals and birds. + +Had any of the townspeople been up very, very early on the morning +that the queer little old man disappeared, they need not have been so +excited. + +For on that morning a bent little figure might have been seen trudging +along the crooked road leading toward the forest. + +The man was dressed poorly, almost shabbily. He walked slowly, and +seemed to be deep in thought. + +Over his shoulder he carried a cane. From it hung a bag made of a big +red figured handkerchief. + +Apparently the man was on a journey, and the big red figured +handkerchief was his traveling bag. + +The fat, round-faced Moon Man smiled down from his home in the sky at +the little figure in the road. His mouth seemed to move, and I am sure +he was saying: + +"Go, brave little old man. Go where you've decided to go. + +"If you are going to the forest, you will no doubt find a welcome +there. Some animals and birds are better as friends than are some +people. + +"Anyway, the great forest is in need of your lessons. I will light the +way for you. May the good spirits attend you!" + +And in the stillness of the early morning the queer little old man of +the quaint old town might have been heard to answer: + +"So I have decided. Come what may, I shall be satisfied. + +"Thank you, kind Moon Man, for your good wishes and for your bright +light." + +And on and on he trudged. + +The orange sun was peeping its head above the horizon when the queer +little old man reached the edge of the forest. + +What warmth the glorious sun gave! His rays gave warmth of heart as +well as warmth of body. + +The old man sat down on a log, to rest his tired legs and to take a +bite to eat. + +Then a voice within the queer little old man began to talk. + +It said: "Perhaps, after all, you should not have left the quaint old +town. You were a coward to run away. + +"Ever since young Mr. Spendthrift came there to live you have been +discontented. And when the people began to take his advice rather than +yours, you grew angry and left. + +"Is that the way for an old man to do who always had plenty to eat and +to wear?" + +But another voice with a fiery little temper was waiting to be heard. + +"What!" it cried, "have you no principle? Are you a worm, to be +stepped upon? + +"Waste is wrong, no matter what you waste. Thrift is right and forever +will be. + +"Therefore, hie you to the heart of the forest as you have decided. +You will at least have peace of mind, and surely that is worth as much +as 'plenty to eat and to wear'!" + + + + +HIS FIRST DAY IN THE FOREST + + +At last Father Thrift was in the heart of the forest. + +It was very peaceful there. + +The wind rustled the leaves on the trees. + +The birds flew among the branches and sang and talked and scolded. + +Do birds ever scold? + +Oh, my, yes! You should hear the mother birds, sometimes, when the +father birds waste their time about the house and the baby birds are +hungry! + +But this morning nearly everything in the forest seemed happy. + +The squirrels leaped from tree to tree. + +Robin sang his merry "Cheer-up! chee, chee! Cheer-up! chee, chee!" And +he sang it again and again. + +I think he tried to say: "Welcome, queer little old man! Welcome to +the forest!" (Besides, he _may_ have found some good fat worms to +eat.) + +The dry leaves and small twigs crackled under the little old man's +feet as he walked along. + +He could hear the soft, rippling sound of the water as it ran over the +stones in the brook. + +He knew that in the shade of the bending willow trees little fishes +played in the water. + +Blue sky was above him. Green grass was all around him. Flowers grew +at his feet. + +Was not the forest a glorious place in which to be! + +The queer little old man drew in a deep, deep breath. + +The air was filled with the perfume of the pine trees. + +"Tap, tap, tap!" Who is disturbing the peace of the forest? It sounds +like a carpenter with his hammer. + +"Tap, tap, tap!" There it goes again. + +The queer little old man looked around. + +"Oh, there you are, you little redhead!" he said. + +It was Woodpecker. Funny bird! How swiftly he climbs the trunk of the +tree! + +"Tap, tap, tap!" he knocks with his bill. "Come out from under the +bark, you bugs!" he cries. "I want some dinner." + +But the bugs do not always come. So Woodpecker bores a hole in the +decayed part of the tree and with his bill goes after them. + +Does he get them? Yes, indeed; so quickly does he work that the poor +little bugs wouldn't have time to whistle for help even if they knew +how. + +"Curious fellow, that!" said the queer little old man. "He is +industrious, too. + +"He reminds me of the hop-toad that came to one of the gardens last +summer. + +"The toad, too, used to catch and eat the bugs. By doing so he saved +many a plant from being destroyed. + +"But what a homely old fellow he was! And how handsome the woodpecker +is! + +"It is quite true that one does not grow to look like what he eats, +but rather like what he thinks. + +"The hop-toad lives so close to the ground that he sees only the brown +earth. And if he thinks at all he thinks of _that_. + +"But the woodpecker flies in the air and lives in the trees. + +"He sees the blue sky and the pretty flowers and the silvery brook. +There is beauty all around him. And if you wish to know of what _he_ +thinks, just see how he _looks_." + +Thus the queer old man spent his first day in the forest. Every little +thing interested him. He watched the busy bees at work. He traced the +footprints of bears and rabbits and deer in the soft ground along the +brook. + +But at last night came and spread its cover of darkness over all. + +In a cave the queer little man made a soft bed of dry leaves. Then he +lay down to sleep. + +"Friends, good-night," he whispered to the forest. + +And the trees rustled back, "Good-night, good-night." + + + + +GREAT GRAY OWL + + +Great Gray Owl sat up in the tree, winking and blinking. + +He would turn his head first in one direction, then in another. + +Wise old bird! What he could not see with those large glassy eyes of +his was hardly worth seeing. + +Suddenly he flew to the ground. There, like a brave sentinel, he +marched back and forth in front of the cave in which Father Thrift was +sleeping. + +Several times in the night the queer little old man heard the hooting +of the owl. More than once he thought he heard the wise bird say, +"Who-oo, who-oo goes there?" + +The first time a sharp "Hiss-ss, hiss-ss!" came in reply. Father +Thrift shivered to think of a snake crawling so near him. + +Then he heard the owl's sharp command: "Halt! What is your business +here?" + +"I'm visiting friends that live in a hole in that cave," replied the +snake. + +"I advise you to do your visiting some other time," said the owl. +"Father Thrift is sleeping in the cave to-night. He must not be +disturbed." + +With the snake the owl's word was law. He had known of several snakes +that had shortened their lives by not taking the wise bird's advice. + +"Such strong claws, such a hooked bill, such sharp eyes, are not to be +trifled with," thought the snake, as he wriggled along toward home. +"But what is the forest coming to when one can't visit his friends? +Besides, who is Father Thrift, anyway?" + +Just then Great Gray Owl called to the snake: "Come to the cave, +here, at ten o'clock in the morning and don't forget. Tell your +friends to come, too. There will be a meeting of all the animals of +the forest." + +As he finished saying this the owl heard a loud crackling of twigs and +a rustling of leaves behind him. He turned around just in time to face +Shaggy Bear. + +"What, ho, Friend Owl!" cried the bear. "What are you about this +evening? Are you looking for wee mice or for tender little bunnies?" + +"No," said Great Gray Owl, "not to-night. I am keeping watch so that +Father Thrift may not be disturbed in his sleep." + +"And who, pray, may Father Thrift be?" asked Shaggy Bear. + +"To-morrow, at ten o'clock in the morning, if you will come back here, +you may learn who Father Thrift is. For the present I will say that +the cave in which you have been in the habit of sleeping will be +Father Thrift's home in the future." + +"So, so!" growled Shaggy Bear. "So, _so_!" (He spoke this last rather +crossly.) + +"Yes," said Great Gray Owl, "that, at least, has been decided." + +Then he went on: "Aren't you glad it was _your_ cave that was chosen +for Father Thrift? Aren't you _glad_? Think of the honor it will be to +you to have him use it! Just _think_ of it!" + +What a fine fellow the owl was, to be sure, to give other people's +things away so generously! + +As for the bear, whether he thought of the honor or not, I cannot say. +He never was known to be much of a thinker. + +Nevertheless the owl's tactful words soothed him, and he felt quite +satisfied to leave things as they were. + +"I know of other caves and of hollows in trees where I can sleep," +said Shaggy Bear. "When I'm full of honey I don't care!" + +That the bear was full of honey seemed quite clear. + +Indeed, if you might judge by outside appearances, he was over full. +The sticky stuff was running down his chin, and he kept wiping it off +with his big paw as he walked away in lazy bear fashion. + +Before morning all the animals of the wood, and the birds and the +bees, knew that at ten o'clock there would be a meeting at the cave. + +What it was about or who Father Thrift was, not one of them knew. That +is, no one knew except the owl; and he wouldn't say. + + + + +THE ANIMALS OF THE FOREST + + +The next morning the sun was up before Father Thrift. In fact, when he +awoke the sun had already taken the sparkling dewdrops away on a +journey back to the clouds. + +The sky was bright. The birds were singing, the insects humming. And +the flowers were smiling and thanking the sun for the warmth and the +light. + +Father Thrift rubbed his eyes and looked about him. Something was +wrong, very wrong! + +The rooster wasn't crowing. The dog wasn't barking. The horses weren't +neighing. Those were familiar sounds to Father Thrift's ears. And he +missed them. + +He drew a deep breath. The air was sweet with the odor of fir trees +and of pine. + +"Ah," he said, "how could I have forgotten that only yesterday I left +the quaint old town! + +"This, then, is my new home in the forest. It is a glorious home!" + +Soon the queer little old man had his breakfast. He had freshly picked +berries and bread, and clear, cool water from a spring near by. + +Then he sat down on a log, to think. + +Suddenly he heard a great rustling of leaves and a flapping and +fluttering of wings. + +Turning around, he found himself face to face with such a gathering of +animals and birds as he had never in his life seen. + +And at his elbow stood--who do you suppose? Great Gray Owl, whom he +had heard hoot in the night. + +Before Father Thrift had time to ask what the gathering was about, +Great Gray Owl rolled his big eyes and said: "Father Thrift, permit me +to introduce to you the animals of the forest." + +"I am happy to meet you all," said Father Thrift kindly. + +Then the animals gave a shout that sounded like three cheers and a +hundred tigers. + +Do you wonder at that? You will not when I tell you all that were +present. + +There were the shaggy bears, the red foxes, the busy beavers, the gray +wolves, the cottontail rabbits, the bushytail squirrels, the +woodchucks, the chipmunks, and the deer. + +Then there were the eagles, the owls, the hawks, the crows, the blue +jays, and the robins, and many others of the bird family. Even the +honeybees and the butterflies, the insects and the snakes were there. + +Indeed, all the animals of the forest must have been present, there +were so many. + +It was wonderful how quickly they had learned of Father Thrift's +coming to their home. + +Now the Great Gray Owl was waving a stick in the air, motioning for +silence. + +When everything was quiet, he perched himself on a tall stump, where +every one could see him, and made a speech. + +"Father Thrift," he said, "we welcome you to the forest. We are glad +that you have come to live with us. + +"Many years ago we birds and animals had a king. But he died and since +then things have not gone well with us. + +"We have not lived wisely. I fear many of us have wasted when we had +plenty, and suffered when what we had was gone. + +"If you will be our king, we will promise to do exactly as you say." + +He rolled his big eyes at the animals and asked, "Won't we?" And every +one of the animals shouted, "We will!" + +But Father Thrift declared that he would rather be only one of them, +instead of being their ruler. + +He would advise them, and teach them, and help them. + +"And we will help you, too," said Shaggy Bear. "I'll give you my cave +for keeps, to begin with." + +"And I'll bring you nuts to eat," said Bushytail Squirrel. + +"And I'll bring you some of my honey," said Honeybee. "That is, I will +if Shaggy Bear doesn't steal it all." + +"And I'll bring you plenty of mice," said Great Gray Owl. + +But Father Thrift only smiled at that. For, of course, mice would be +of no use to him! + + + + +WHAT MADE THE BEAR SICK + + +Father Thrift was busy carrying pine needles into his cave. Pine +needles make a soft carpet. And the bare floor of the cave was _so_ +hard. + +At last he had enough and he sat down to rest. + +Just then he looked out of his cave and saw Shaggy Bear, half walking, +half crawling toward him. + +"Why, whatever is the matter?" Father Thrift exclaimed in +astonishment. + +"I am so sick I believe I shall die," groaned the bear. The poor +fellow's face was pale and tears were running down his cheeks. + +"Oh, cheer up, cheer up!" cried Father Thrift briskly. "Why should you +_want_ to die?" + +"That's it--I don't!" returned the bear sorrowfully. "But I believe my +time has come." + +"Where do you feel the worst--in your stomach?" asked Father Thrift. + +"Yes," replied Shaggy Bear. "That is where the trouble started." + +"I thought so; I thought so," said Father Thrift. "I wonder that you +were not sick before. + +"Now, first of all, let me tell you that you are not going to die, not +yet. But should you keep on eating as you have eaten in the past few +weeks, you could never expect to be strong and healthy." + +"Why?" asked the bear, brightening up suddenly. + +But Father Thrift did not answer his question. + +"I am going to suggest something for you to do, Shaggy," he said. + +The bear looked puzzled but hopeful. + +"You won't like it," Father Thrift continued. "No one ever did. But it +is the only way by which you can become well and strong again. + +"The very first time I saw you I knew that you were not eating the +right kind of meals. + +"Why, bears are known to have such good appetites that we often hear +boys say, 'I'm as hungry as a bear!' + +"But you don't feel that way. That is because you eat too much honey +and not enough solid, nourishing food. + +"This makes you sick. And while perhaps you wouldn't die from it, you +would grow to be cross and disagreeable. Then no one would like you. +Would that be any better?" + +The bear scratched his head. "But what am I to do?" he asked. + +"Stop eating sweets for three months," advised Father Thrift. "Don't +you see that you spoil your appetite for good roots and berries by +eating too much honey? + +"What, do you suppose, would become of boys and girls who ate nothing +but cookies and candy, instead of milk and eggs, and meat and bread, +and vegetables and fruit? + +"A little candy, when eaten after meals, seldom hurts anybody. When +you are better you may have a little honey again, too. + +"Another thing. Besides eating and sleeping, what do you do?" + +"Nothing," replied Shaggy Bear. + +"Hereafter you must spend some time each day working or walking or +playing outdoors," said Father Thrift. "You need exercise. + +"Don't be afraid to run. That will fill your lungs with pure, fresh +air and make your blood circulate more freely. + +"Eat only three meals a day and be regular. Do not eat between meals. +Remember that the stomach works hard and needs rest as much as do your +feet. + +"Eat slowly and chew your food well, and I promise that at the end of +three months you will feel better than you have ever felt in your +life." + +The bear made a wry face at all this. For he liked honey about as much +as he disliked exercise. + +"Mayn't I eat _some_ honey?" he asked pleadingly. + +Father Thrift looked at him a little sternly. + +"None for three months," he said. + +Shaggy Bear was in earnest and at once promised to do as he was told. + +Then, as the bear rose to go, Father Thrift patted him on the back. + +"You mustn't let this spoil your good times," he said. "Only remember +that nobody can be happy without good health." + +It was a hard trial for the bear. + +Many, many times he was tempted to stuff himself with honey and then +roll up in his cave and go to sleep. But each time he turned sadly +away from temptation. + +And at the end of three months he was as sound and healthy as a bear +could be. Then how grateful he was to Father Thrift for his good +advice! + +And the queer little old man was happy to think that he had been able +to help Shaggy so much. + + + + +HOW THE WOODPECKERS HELPED + + +One morning, as Father Thrift was sitting in front of his cave sunning +himself, he heard some one crying. + +It was a squeaky sort of cry. + +Father Thrift could not imagine who it could be that was in trouble. + +He looked around, but saw no one. + +Then he listened. The sound came from behind a large tree near by. He +walked over to the spot. And there sat--who do you suppose? + +Little Gray Squirrel, crying into his maple-leaf handkerchief as +though his very heart would break! + +"What is the matter, Gray Squirrel?" asked Father Thrift. + +"Oh, Father Thrift," sobbed Little Gray Squirrel, "let me tell you +what some bad boys did to me! + +"I live in the big old oak tree near the edge of the forest. I have a +nest in the old tree's trunk. There I live with my baby squirrels. +There, too, I have gathered and stored nuts for food. + +"And now some boys have stolen all my nuts! + +"Soon the cold days of winter will come. Then what shall I do for food +for my babies and myself?" + +And the poor little squirrel cried until he almost choked, and fresh +tears ran down his cheeks. + +Father Thrift looked angry. He said: "This is very bad. I am sorry to +hear all this, good Gray Squirrel. While I cannot give you back the +nuts which the boys stole, I think I can send some one to help you +gather more. + +"There are still some nuts on the ground, and we'll help you to find +them." + +Little Gray Squirrel thanked Father Thrift for his kind words. Then he +dried his tears and started for home. + +And the queer little old man sat watching the bushy tail as it whisked +down the crooked path and out of sight. + +Then all of a sudden he heard a sharp "Tap-tap-tap!" + +Without even looking up Father Thrift knew who it was. "A friend in +need," he said to himself. + +Then he called to the woodpecker that was doing the knocking. "I wish +to talk with you," he said. + +Woodpecker flew down, and Father Thrift told him all about Little Gray +Squirrel. + +"Oh, we will help him gather a fresh store of nuts," said Mr. +Woodpecker. "Indeed, we will help!" And he flew away. + +Within a very short time a whole flock of woodpeckers was flying +toward Little Gray Squirrel's home. + +Soon Little Gray Squirrel's troubles were over, for the woodpeckers +filled his winter storeroom full of the choicest nuts. Now he was sure +of having plenty to eat all winter for himself and his family. And how +thankful he was! + +But that is not all. + +When the woodpeckers were through filling the squirrel's storeroom +with nuts, did they stop? + +No, indeed! One woodpecker who was older than the others got up on the +topmost branch of the tree and said: + +"Dear brothers, do you realize now how foolish we have been all our +lives? + +"In the summer we feed on bugs and beetles and ants and seeds. + +"Then in the winter, because we know no better, some of us go South. +Some of us go hungry, and some of us die, because we cannot find +enough to eat. + +"Why cannot we, too, store up nuts and have food for the winter as the +squirrels do?" + +"The very thing!" cried the other woodpeckers. + +So they all began gathering acorns and beechnuts and storing them in +the bark of the trees. + +Some of the nuts they would drop beneath the bark of the tree. And +some they would drive with their strong bills into cracks and holes +which they found here and there. + +The trees which were old and worm-eaten were, of course, the easiest +into which to drive the nuts. Knotholes, too, were good places in +which to store food. + +When the woodpeckers had many, many nuts stored away, one of them +said: + +"Isn't it strange that we didn't think of this before! We need not go +South to find a new home this winter. We can stay right here and still +have plenty to eat." + +And that is what they did. + +So, while the woodpeckers helped Little Gray Squirrel out of his +trouble, they helped themselves into the good habit of learning to +save. And they have not forgotten it to this day. + + + + +THE BUSY BEAVERS + + +One evening Father Thrift was sitting by the brook, looking into the +water. The bright silver moon made the night almost as light as day. +Everything was quiet, except for a faint ripple of the water. + +Suddenly Father Thrift heard something go, "Splash-sh! splash-sh! +splash! splash!" almost beside him. + +Then he heard a voice calling from the water. + +"Father Thrift," it said, "you have never visited us. Won't you take +your canoe and come now?" + +And Father Thrift, looking into the water, saw that it was Mr. Beaver +who was calling. + +"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Beaver!" replied the queer little old man. +"I will accept your invitation with pleasure." + +And soon the two were making their way through the water to the place +where the beavers were building their home. + +And where do you suppose that was? + +On a nice sunny hill? Or in the shade of the trees? + +No, no! Instead, it was in the middle of a pond which the beavers +themselves had made by building a dam of mud and sticks. + +The beavers' house was made of mud and sticks mixed with stones. Or, +rather, it was being made. The beavers were still working at it. + +"My, my," said Father Thrift, "how very, very late you beavers work! +Don't you ever rest? + +"I know you are very industrious. Nearly everybody knows that, as +there is a familiar saying among us that an industrious person works +like a beaver. But I never supposed that you worked all the time!" + +"We don't," replied Mr. Beaver. "We work only at night. All of our +work is done then. And I am ashamed to tell you that there are some +beavers who do not wish to work at all." + +"_So!_" exclaimed Father Thrift. "I am surprised at that. And do they +live here, too?" + +"Oh, no," said Mr. Beaver. "We have no place for lazy beavers, or 'old +bachelors,' as we call them. Usually we cut their tails off and chase +them away." + +"That is punishment enough," said Father Thrift. "Still, lazy folks +deserve no better. Wasting time is just as bad as wasting food, or +money, or anything else." + +Then Father Thrift stopped to watch the interesting and wonderful ways +of the wise beavers. + +Some of them dug mud out of the bottom of the creek. + +Others cut sticks from bushes and trees with their big chisel-edged +teeth. By biting out chips, one by one, a beaver can easily cut down a +large tree. + +The mud and sticks for their house and dam they carried against their +breasts as they swam, holding them there with their forefeet. Then +they would put the sticks in place and press the mud down. + +Their tails they used only for swimming. But, then, those big, strong +tails make fine propellers. + +"You are building a very large house, it seems to me," remarked Father +Thrift. + +"Yes," replied Mr. Beaver. "But you must remember that several +families of beavers live in the different rooms of this house." + +"Just so, just so," said the queer little old man. "I suppose that you +find your house comfortable. But isn't it rather damp?" + +"In some parts, yes," admitted Mr. Beaver. "But in the center of our +house we have rooms above the water. + +"Of course, as you know, we cannot climb trees like a squirrel. +Neither can we burrow like a cottontail rabbit. But in deep water we +are safe. + +"We enter and leave our homes from beneath the water, unseen. And when +we are attacked by enemies we take to the water to save ourselves." + +"I have been told that your food is chiefly the roots of the common +yellow water lily," said Father Thrift. "What do you do in the winter +when the pond is frozen and there are no lily roots to be had?" + +"Oh," said Mr. Beaver, "we eat the bark of trees, too--mostly poplar, +birch, and willow. But, as the ice prevents us from getting to the +land in winter, we should not have even that to eat if we did not cut +a supply of sticks in the summer time. + +"These we throw into the water opposite the doors of our houses and +leave them there for the winter, for bark is good beaver food." + +Father Thrift nodded. But on his way home he could have been heard to +say: "Wise little animals! Always working. Always saving. Always +having." + + + + +THE GRAY FOXES AND THE RED FOXES + + +After Father Thrift came to the forest to live, one night each week +(except in bad or very cold weather) had been "story night." + +On "story night" all the animals would meet in front of his cave to +hear and tell stories. + +This night Gray Fox was to tell a story. + +Gray Fox was a good story-teller, and so he always had a large +audience. Most of the animals were present to hear him. + +And this is the story Gray Fox told: + + * * * * * + +There was once a young fox who was very wasteful. He left half his +food on his plate. He spent all his pennies for candy. He broke his +playthings purposely, and tore his clothes needlessly. There was +really no end to his wastefulness. + +This fox belonged to the family of Gray Foxes. And the Gray Foxes were +a prosperous nation. + +They lived peaceably among themselves and with their neighbors, and +every one had plenty to eat, to wear, and to spend. + +So no one paid much attention to Young Fox's wastefulness. Or if the +other foxes did pay attention to him, they rather imitated him, for he +_was_ a clever young fox. + +Soon nearly all the young foxes grew wasteful. They all left half +their food on their plates. They all spent their pennies for candy. +They all broke their playthings purposely, and tore their clothes +needlessly. There was no end to their wastefulness. + +And so things went from bad to worse. + +But one day a messenger brought the Gray Foxes some bad news. The Red +Foxes were preparing to make war upon the Gray Foxes! + +"Why make war upon us?" asked the Gray Foxes. "We are a peaceable +nation. We harm no one." + +"True, true!" said Governor Gray Fox. "But remember, also, that we are +a prosperous nation. We are _too_ prosperous to please the Red Foxes. +We must prepare to defend ourselves." + +And they did prepare. And then there was a long and bloody war between +the Gray Foxes and the Red Foxes. + +The Gray Fox fathers and brothers, who should have been working in the +fields and mills and factories, were out killing the Red Fox fathers +and brothers. + +And the Red Fox fathers and brothers, instead of working in their +fields and mills and factories, were out killing the Gray Fox fathers +and brothers. + +But the foxes did not stop eating. And they did not stop wearing +clothes. + +Just as many foxes as ever were eating food and wearing clothes. Yet +only about half as many were left at home to make the things to eat +and the clothes to wear. The rest of the foxes were away at war. + +So, of course, there were only half as many things to eat and to wear +as there had been before. And because there were only half as many, +and every one wanted these, they cost twice as much. + +Now it seemed as though the poor foxes wouldn't have money enough to +buy food and clothes. And they worried as to how they could get along. + +But the rich foxes, like Young Fox and his friends, could still buy +all the things _they_ wanted, because they had plenty of money. They +bought more than they needed. + +"This will never do!" declared Governor Gray Fox. "Everybody must eat, +and everybody must wear clothes. + +"Hereafter every one will get an equal share of the food, and nothing +must be wasted. And clothes will cost just so much and no more." + +The poor foxes said that that was fair enough, for they hadn't +anything to waste. But the rich foxes complained bitterly. They said +the Governor was trying to starve them. + +Still, they had to do as the Governor said. And it was good for them +to do with less. It is true that the fat foxes lost their big +stomachs, but that made them look handsomer. It also made them feel +much better. + +No one ever left anything on his plate now. No one spent his money +foolishly. No one broke his things purposely, or tore his clothes +needlessly. There was an end to all the wastefulness. + +And when the war was over the Gray Foxes grew prosperous again. Only +this time there were no foxes as poor as there had been before the +war. Neither were there any quite so rich. + +But every one had plenty. And because all shared fairly, they all +lived more happily. + + * * * * * + +"Which shows," added Father Thrift, "that everything which happens is +for the best, and the world is a good place to live in, after all." + + + + +RED SQUIRREL AND BUNNY COTTONTAIL + + +The ground was covered deep with snow, and it was bitter cold in the +forest. + +But Mr. Red Squirrel and his family were quite comfortable in their +cozy home. + +Mr. Red Squirrel lived with his wife and three children in the hollow +of an old oak tree. They were a thrifty and industrious family. + +They always had plenty to eat, besides something laid away for a rainy +day. + +That is because Mr. Red Squirrel was very careful about little things, +and brought up his family to be the same. + +Before the nuts were fully ripe, the squirrels would climb the trees, +gnaw the stems, and drop the nuts to the ground. + +Then they would scamper down and gather them into neat piles. They +would eat some of the new nuts for breakfast, and put the rest away in +the granaries. + +They worked hard all the summer and autumn, getting food for the +winter. And never a thing was wasted in Mr. Squirrel's house. + +On this cold winter's night Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel and the three little +squirrels sat warm and snug in their home in the old oak tree. +Suddenly there came a tiny tap at the door. + +It might have been the wind. Mrs. Squirrel was not sure. She listened. +The sound came again. Yes, some one certainly was knocking at their +door. + +Who could it be, this bitter cold night? + +Mr. Squirrel got up and opened the door. At first he saw no one. + +"Who's there?" he called, in his pleasant, cheery voice. + +"It is I, neighbor," answered a weak voice, sadly. "Please let me in! +I am cold and hungry!" + +Mr. Squirrel opened the door wide, and said: "Yes, come in, come in. +It is a bitter cold night, to be sure. Come in and let me shut the +door. My tail is nearly frozen just from standing here." + +Then there came hopping into the hollow of the tree trunk a rabbit. +Poor Bunny Cottontail, how miserable he did look! + +His coat was all dirty and ragged. And his poor little tail hung down +behind instead of standing up straight and stiff, as a rabbit's tail +ought to do. + +His ears drooped, and his whiskers were broken and limp. He had +rheumatism in one hind leg, and his eyes, which should have been as +bright as Mr. Squirrel's, were dull and dim. + +Altogether he looked as shabby and sad as a bunny could look--not at +all like a respectable, well-brought-up rabbit. + +Mr. Squirrel hastened to put poor Bunny into the warmest corner of the +hollow. And Mrs. Squirrel brought him some food, which he ate eagerly. + +The little squirrels were so astonished at the rabbit's appearance +that they did not know what to make of him. + +When Bunny was warm and rested, Mrs. Squirrel sent her little ones to +bed. + +Then she and Mr. Squirrel began to try to find out what had happened +to make their poor neighbor so forlorn. + +"How could I help it?" he cried mournfully. "I did not know that it +would be so cold, nor that the snow would be so deep that I should not +be able to get a bit of winter cabbage to eat. + +"I am sure I am willing to work. I would take any trouble, but it is +not a bit of use. Indeed, Neighbor Squirrel, I do not see how you have +managed." + +And he looked enviously around the neat, warm little nest. + +"It was very simple," replied Mr. Squirrel, gravely. "We all helped +and put away part of everything we found. If we found six nuts, we put +away at least three in our storeroom. And nuts and acorns were very +plentiful this autumn. + +"So, though the winter is very hard, we shall have plenty. We have +plenty for a friend, too. So eat as much as you will, neighbor, and +don't spare the loaf." + +It was very kind of Mr. Squirrel, but he could not help the poor +rabbit much. + +Bunny had been such an idle, wandering fellow that he could not be +content to stay with Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel quietly and help to do the +work of their little home. So in a few days he wandered away. + +As he shivered in the cold and tried to find enough to eat, he often +wished that he had been as wise and as thrifty as the Squirrel family. + +And the Squirrel family, being as kind-hearted as they were thrifty, +often thought of the poor rabbit with pity. They wondered how he was +getting on, but they never heard of him again. + + + + +SHAGGY BEAR'S MISTAKE + + +Father Thrift was carrying in wood for his fire. It had been a long +and hard winter. + +Suddenly he heard footsteps in the snow behind him. He looked around. +And there--would you believe it!--stood his old friend, Shaggy Bear. + +Shaggy was as thin as a shadow, and his teeth chattered with the cold. + +"My, my, but you are out early this year!" exclaimed Father Thrift. +"Come in and warm yourself by the fire." + +Shaggy needed no coaxing. He was so cold that even his voice had +frozen in his throat! At least he couldn't speak a word until he grew +warm. + +And the way that bear snuggled up to Father Thrift's fire was comical +to see! + +At last he managed to say: "Father Thrift, I shouldn't know this place +if I had not lived here so long. You have a door on the cave, and two +windows. And you have chairs and a table, and--and two beds. + +"Why have you two beds, Father Thrift?" + +"One is for company," answered the queer little old man. + +"If you had just one more bed, I should say this was the House of the +Three Bears." + +And Shaggy laughed at his little joke. (Or perhaps the good meal which +Father Thrift had prepared for him tickled his stomach.) + +"Where have you been all winter?" asked Father Thrift. + +"When the cold days came," said the bear, "I crawled into my cave in +the rocks and curled myself up into a big ball. There I meant to stay +until the warm days of spring. + +"The snow made a door to my cave, and I intended to sleep all winter +long. + +"Then the wind swept the snow away from my door and I awoke and looked +about. I thought that spring had come. + +"And that is where I made my mistake. I should have gone to sleep +again. But I was hungry, having had nothing to eat all winter. So I +crawled out. + +"The roots and the berries are still asleep under the snow. The fish +are under the ice. There is nothing for me to do but return to my cave +and go back to sleep." + +"You must not do that," said Father Thrift. "That would be wasting +time. And time is the most precious thing we have." + +"Is it?" the bear asked in surprise. + +"Indeed it is!" replied Father Thrift. "We may lose wealth, but by +hard work and saving we may win it back. + +"We may lose health, and with care and medicine restore it. But time +that is lost is gone forever." + +The bear listened to Father Thrift's wise talk, but he shivered and +said: "Still, I am cold; and I can find no food to eat." + +"I have a warm fire," said Father Thrift. "And I have food enough for +us both, and to spare. I will share with you if you will help me with +my work." + +"That I will, gladly!" cried Shaggy, who was still smacking his lips +over the fine dinner he had eaten. "But how does it happen that you +have food, when the ground has been frozen so long?" + +"When you learn to look ahead," replied Father Thrift, "you will find +that easy enough. + +"In the warm days I prepare for the cold days which I know are coming. +I raise my crops. I gather berries and plums, and preserve them. The +apples and the nuts will keep as they are. + +"So, you see, instead of letting go to waste what I cannot use when +food is plentiful, I save it for the days when food is scarce." + +"Then do you rest all winter?" asked the bear. + +"No!" said Father Thrift. "In the winter many things are waiting to be +done. Then I make my clothes, shoes, furniture, tools, and other +things." + +"What are you making now?" questioned the bear, as Father Thrift +whittled pieces of wood with his knife. + +"These will be wooden spouts," answered Father Thrift. "You like sweet +things--honey, for instance." + +Father Thrift smiled. Do you know why? + +"Well, maple sirup and maple sugar are about as sweet as honey. These +spouts will help us get all we want of both." + +"Will they?" cried Shaggy eagerly. "How?" + +"The maple trees, too," Father Thrift told him, "have been sleeping +all winter. Most of the sap has been down in their roots. In the early +spring it travels upward into the trunk and branches and the trees +awake. + +"The maple tree does not need all its sap. It is willing to give some +of it to us. And when you have maple sirup you won't have to steal +honey from the bees." + +This pleased Shaggy so much that he stood up on his hind legs and +danced a bear dance. How Father Thrift laughed! + + + + +THE SWEETEST THING IN THE FOREST + + +Father Thrift spent the next few days in making wooden pails, in which +to gather the maple sap. + +What a lot of measuring and sawing and fitting and finishing it takes +to make a few pails! + +Shaggy Bear helped as much as he could. But bears are _such_ clumsy +things! + +Finally one day Father Thrift said to Shaggy: "Now everything is +ready. We have our spouts with which to draw the sap from the trees. +And we have the wooden pails and some earthen crocks I made from clay +last summer, in which to gather it. + +"There is a large iron kettle we will use for boiling the sap down +into sirup and sugar. + +"To-morrow we will tap our trees." + +"Why to-morrow?" asked the bear. "That seems too long to wait. Why not +to-day?" + +"Because," replied Father Thrift, "everything depends on time. There +isn't time enough left to-day. To-morrow we will start work real +early. And to get up early to-morrow we must get to bed early +to-night." + +"I don't see how I shall be able to sleep at all," grumbled the bear. + +But in a few moments he was fast asleep where he sat. + +He was a funny fellow! + +Still, Father Thrift did not mind. He liked the quiet. When it was +quiet he could think. In that he was quite different from many people, +who like only to talk. + +And he thought to himself: "Suppose that each person wastes one hour a +day. A hundred days, a hundred hours. Multiply that by the number of +people in the world--" + +But the figures were too large even for Father Thrift to count up. + +"If every one would use that hour each day in reading a good book, or +in thinking, or in doing something else that is useful, how much +better the world would be in another hundred years!" + +Father Thrift sat and thought for a whole hour. + +Then he waked the bear and each went to his own bed to rest for the +night. + +What a funny sight it was--a man and a bear sleeping side by side in +the same room! + +Early the next morning Father Thrift and the bear went to the maple +grove to tap their trees. + +Father Thrift bored holes in the tree trunks. Then he pounded a little +spout into each hole for the sap to run through. + +As they had no handles on their pails and crocks, they could not hang +them on the spouts. Instead they set them down in the snow under the +spouts. + +The sun was getting warm, and was drawing up the sap from the roots of +the tree into its branches. Soon you could hear it drip, drip, +dripping into the pails and the crocks. + +Shaggy Bear was too astonished to talk. He put out his paw, and a +great drop of shining yellow maple sap fell on it. Then he licked his +paw. Then he grunted, a funny bear grunt of surprise and pleasure. + +_Mmmmmm!_ It was good! It was sweet, truly. And what a delicious +flavor it had! + +The bear put out his paw again and again. And how he did lick the sap +off it! My, oh, _my_! it was sweet! Not even the honey of the bee +tasted so good. It was like nothing else in the whole forest. + +Meanwhile Father Thrift was arranging his kettle and pans and building +a fire. + +"Now let us pour all the sap into one pail," he said, "and perhaps we +shall have enough to start boiling." + +"Oh, but that may spoil it!" cried Shaggy Bear. + +"The sap is made sweeter by boiling," said Father Thrift. But the bear +did not see how that could be. + +When the sap began to boil, Father Thrift told Shaggy to stir it, so +that it would not burn. + +Suddenly the bear began jumping about and crying: "Father Thrift, come +here, come here!" + +Father Thrift ran over to see what had happened. + +Shaggy was all excitement. + +"Look!" he cried. "Look in the kettle! We had much there. Now we have +little. I told you the fire would spoil it!" + +"No," replied Father Thrift, smilingly, "the fire has not spoiled +anything. When the sap boils, the water in it goes away in steam. And +the longer it boils, the more the water goes away. + +"This time we will not let it boil so very long, and then we shall +have sirup. But the next kettle of sap we will boil longer and then we +shall have maple sugar." + +When the sirup grew thick, Father Thrift said, "Taste!" And the bear +tasted. + +"Oh, Father Thrift," he cried in delight, "it is the best thing I have +ever tasted! Truly, the boiling improves it." + +Then when the maple sugar was done, Father Thrift called Shaggy. + +"Taste _this_," he said. + +Ah, how good it was! Nothing like it had ever gone into Shaggy Bear's +mouth before. Never had he tasted such sweetness. + +And, oh, what a wonderful meal they had that night! Father Thrift made +golden corn cakes, and he and Shaggy ate the hot cakes with fresh +maple sirup poured over them. + + * * * * * + +The bear grew thoughtful after supper. + +"Now I know why I used to get into so much trouble," he said. "I have +had too much idle time on my hands. + +"After this I will work hard and learn. I--I think I could help you a +lot, Father Thrift. Will--you--let--me--stay--if--I--do?" + +"I shall be glad to have you stay, always," said Father Thrift. + +And the bear was so overjoyed at what Father Thrift said that he +cried. + + + + +ROBINS, CROWS, AND BLACKBIRDS + + +A soft little breeze was blowing. It was warm, and it had in it the +smell of green things growing--trees, and buds, and grass, and +flowers. + +Little birds were singing. And they had joy and gladness in their +voices. And the colors of the rainbow were in their feathers. + +Little brooks were flowing--flowing and growing into rivers. They +sparkled in the merry sunshine, and their laughter could be heard +everywhere they went. + +The whole forest was glad. Why? + +Because it was spring, merry spring. And spring is the gladdest, +happiest time of all the year. + +Father Thrift was plowing his garden and Shaggy Bear was helping him. + +And do you know how they worked together? + +Father Thrift held the handles of the plow and Shaggy pulled it. He +was the horse. A funnier sight you have never seen! + +The ground was hard, so that no seed could grow in it. Father Thrift +turned the earth over with his plow. This loosened the soil and made +it soft. + +The robins followed the plow and found nice large angleworms for their +breakfast. Then they sang this song: + + Cheerily cheer-up! Cheerily cheer-up! + Cheerily cheer, we're glad you're here, + Little fat worms. Oh, cheerily cheer-up, + Cheerily cheer, we're glad you're here! + +But the little fat worms only turned and squirmed. They sang no song +at all. + +The crows and the blackbirds followed Father Thrift, too. They ate the +grub worms and the beetles and other insects which they found. + +Then, when the ground was ready, Father Thrift and Shaggy Bear planted +the seeds. + +The robins did not follow them now. + +But the crows and the blackbirds did. And do you know what they were +doing? + +They were eating the seeds almost as fast as Father Thrift and Shaggy +dropped them into the ground. + +Father Thrift stopped in his work. + +"Crows and blackbirds," he said, "you must not do that." + +"Why?" asked one old crow. "We always have done it." + +"Yes, I know you have," replied Father Thrift. "And that is what has +given you such a bad name with the farmer. + +"By eating the seed or pulling up sprouting corn you spoil the crop. +And so you have less food for yourselves in the end." + +"How is that?" asked Cousin Blackbird. + +"Well," explained Father Thrift, "every grain of corn you eat now +would make ears of corn if you let it stay in the ground to grow. + +"And of every ear of corn grown some kernels are left in the field in +the shocking. So that for every kernel not eaten now you would have +many kernels in the autumn. + +"Besides, if you will keep the bad bugs and worms and grasshoppers out +of my garden, I promise to give you every tenth ear of all the corn I +grow." + +Then the crows got together. And all you could hear from them was a +loud "Caw, caw, caw!" + +But they must have agreed that Father Thrift's proposal was a fair +one. The old crow spoke for all the crows. He said: + +"We will do as you ask, Father Thrift. We wish all farmers were as +reasonable with us. + +"We help the farmer, but we get no credit for it. We eat many, many +grasshoppers and beetles and worms and caterpillars and weevils every +year. + +"These would be at work destroying the farmer's crops if we did not +eat them. And, for all that, the farmer is always chasing and killing +us." + +"No," said Father Thrift, "the farmer does not dislike you for the +good you do. He dislikes you for the harm you do. Your bad habits make +you unpopular. Why don't you give them up?" + +"Caw, caw, caw!" cried all the crows. I suppose they meant, "Yes, yes, +yes." + +But whether or not they meant what they said I don't know. + +As for the blackbirds, whatever was agreeable to the crows was +satisfactory to them. And they flew away singing, "Conk-err-ee! +Conk-err-ee!" + +And as Father Thrift and Shaggy Bear sat down under a tree to rest, +Mr. Robin sang his song from the topmost bough. It was like this: + + Cheerily cheer-up! Cheerily cheer-up! + Cheerily cheer, five of us here; + Mother and me, and babies three. Cheer up, + Cheerily cheer, we're happy here. + +You see, Mr. Robin's English was not perfect, but he was too happy to +be careful. + + + + +THE LITTLE RAINDROPS + + +Every seventh day Father Thrift rested. To-day was Sunday, the seventh +day. + +Father Thrift, as usual, arose just as the gray clouds were bidding +the earth good-by. + +How that queer little old man did enjoy those summer mornings! + +Not many people get up early enough to know what they are like. + +It is then that the birds sing for Father Sun to awake. And the chorus +of thanksgiving which arises from the woods and the fields is enough +to gladden any one's heart. + +Every boy and girl should learn to know these beautiful morning hours. + +But this morning the dark clouds lingered longer than usual. That was +because they had brought the raindrops from their home in the sky to +visit the earth below. + +The flowers lifted their grateful heads to greet the raindrops. + +The thirsty roots under the ground were made glad by them. And so were +the leaves and the buds and all the growing green things above the +ground. + +The frogs jumped about in their glee and croaked joyfully, "Oh, what +fun we have!" + +The brook rushed rejoicing to the river, and the river ran to the sea. +And both sang on their way. + +But the birds and the squirrels were not so happy when the raindrops +came tumbling down from the sky. They hid in their nests and under the +leaves of the trees and waited for them to go away. + +Even Shaggy Bear did not like the rain. He hid in the cave, to keep +his fur dry. + +Now the time was drawing near when most people were waking--that is, +in the cities. The farmer has learned to know the beautiful early +hours of the morning. + +"Let us play," cried a tiny raindrop to the others. "Let us play and +stay here always. For the earth is a beautiful place." + +But the older and wiser raindrops trickled away and hid almost +anywhere they could. + +Some of them hid in Father Thrift's garden. Some of them jumped into +the brook. + +They knew they were sent down to the earth to do some good, and not to +spend their time in playing. They had plenty of time in the sky for +play. + +So if they wished to stay on the earth they must work. + +The little raindrops that hid in Father Thrift's garden would help to +make the plants grow. + +Those that jumped into the brook would help to give a good cool drink +to all who were thirsty. + +Then Father Sun came out from behind the gray clouds. + +"Come, little raindrops, down on earth," he said. "Those of you that +are not busy, or are not needed there, must come home. You have +important work to do elsewhere." + +And, like the good father that he was, he gathered up all that he +could find and put them into pretty white and blue boats. And the wind +gently sailed them across the sky. + +Then the Rain Fairies and the Sun Fairies joined hands until they made +a beautiful arch from earth to heaven. + +We call this arch the rainbow. The gay colors are the pretty dresses +of the fairies. + +Now the birds of the forest came forth from their nests. They +fluttered their little wings and sent the raindrops which had rested +on them down to the flowers and the grasses. + +Then they flew into the tree tops, where Father Sun could see them. +And, as though to make up for lost time, they sang more sweetly than +they did on clear days. + +How their songs gladdened the forest! + +Father Thrift sat on a log to listen to that orchestra of a thousand +throats trilling from the tree tops. + +And Shaggy Bear came out from the cave and sat down beside him. + +"A pretty world it would be without the birds!" said Father Thrift. + +"How dull it would be without their colors! The rainbow cannot match +them. + +"How cheerless it would be without their song! Man cannot equal it." + +And you may be sure that Father Thrift and Shaggy Bear did not forget +the birds in their prayers that night. + + + + +TROUBLE IN THE FOREST + + +The next day was Monday, the first of July. Father Thrift turned the +leaf of his homemade calendar. Then he and Shaggy Bear went out into +the garden to work. + +All of a sudden they heard such a commotion! They looked up and saw a +great flock of birds flying toward them. + +There were robins and bluebirds and kingbirds and bobolinks and brown +thrashers and catbirds and meadow larks and woodpeckers and wrens, and +all the other birds of the forest. + +Did they come to sing for Father Thrift because it was the first of +July? + +No, not one of the birds was singing now. They were chattering and +crying, but you could not make out what the fuss was all about. + +To Father Thrift and Shaggy it sounded something like this: + + Charr, charr, caw, caw, churr, churr, chee, chee, + Peenk, peenk, quit, quit, chuck, chuck, whee, whee, + Tzip, tzip, thsee, thsee, conk-err-ee, whack, + Jay, jay, mew, mew, whip, chip, crack, tchack, + R-r-r-r-r-r-r!! + +"R-r-r-r-r-r-r" meant, "We're angry. Next time we will fight them." + +Now the woodpeckers drummed for quiet: "Rrr-runk, tunk, tunk!" + +Then Mr. Robin walked up to Father Thrift. He said, "Oh, Father +Thrift, we have come to tell you that the boys have been very mean to +us. Let me tell you what they did to us. + +"While Mrs. Robin and I were away they climbed up into the tree where +we had built our nest and stole our eggs." And there were tears in +his bright eyes. + +Then Mr. Bluebird came. He was a pretty little fellow, and mannerly +too. "Oh, Father Thrift," he said, "let me tell you what the boys did +to me. + +"My nest was in a hole in your apple tree. The boys tore the green +apples off the tree and threw them all about. They stuffed them into +the hole where my nest was and now I have no home. + +"They are not afraid even of you." + +Then Mr. Kingbird came up. He said: "What Cousin Bluebird has just +told you is true. One of the apples struck my nest and knocked it +down. + +"There were four speckled eggs in it. I have lost not only my home but +my pretty eggs with it. Is that right, Father Thrift?" + +And sadness and sorrow were in his voice. + +Just then Brown Thrasher came along. He was hopping on one foot. "Oh, +Father Thrift," he said, "look what has happened to me! I was harming +no one. I was just singing a song, when I was hit in the leg." + +"And pretty are the songs you can sing," said Father Thrift. "Many, +many times have I been made happy by your sweet and cheerful notes. +But who was it that hurt you?" + +"The boys," replied Brown Thrasher. "They hit me with a stone from +their sling shot and broke my leg." + +Now Mrs. Bobolink came up. "Oh, Father Thrift," she said, sobbing, +"hear me! + +"While I put our house in order Mr. Bobolink would stand guard to see +that no enemies came near us. + +"And he would sing to me at the same time. Such sweet songs as he +could sing! I think no other bird could equal him. + +"We, too, had some eggs in our nest. And we were happy. Yesterday Mr. +Bobolink was perched on the tip of a bough, singing, when suddenly he +fell to the ground. + +"I flew to see what the trouble was. And do you know what had +happened? + +"He was dead. He had been hit on the head with a stone. Not far away I +saw the boys who killed him. + +"To-day we dug a grave and buried him under his favorite tree." And +poor Mrs. Bobolink cried harder than ever. + +Then Father and Mother Meadow Lark came up. "Oh, Father Thrift," they +cried, "listen to what has happened to us! + +"We had four little children in a nest in the field. The nest was +covered over with grasses. We thought it perfectly safe. + +"But while we were away getting food for our little ones, some one +stole them all." + +And the Meadow Larks wept as though their hearts would break. + +"It must have been the boys!" chorused all the birds. + +Father Thrift looked very angry. + +"All this is very sad," he said. "I am sorry indeed to hear it. But, +little friends, go home and make the best of things for the present. + +"Shaggy Bear and I will find some way to help you." + +Then the birds flew away. And they made such a noise that the clouds +trembled in the sky. + + + + +TWO BAD BOYS + + +For a while neither Father Thrift nor the bear spoke. + +Then the queer little old man said: + +"Those boys must be punished, Shaggy. They must be taught a lesson. +Killing birds is no joke. + +"To-morrow morning take your lunch with you and go to the north edge +of the forest. There you will find a crooked road that is little +traveled. + +"I believe that this is the road over which the boys came. They will +come again. + +"Hide yourself behind a tree and watch for them. And when you catch +them bring them to me." + +"Yes, yes," said Shaggy, "I certainly will." + +So early the next morning Father Thrift packed the bear's lunch and +off Shaggy started for the north edge of the forest. + +But he returned late that night, tired and cross, without the boys. + +The same thing happened the next day, and the next. + +Shaggy was so discouraged by this time that he thought it of no use to +try again. + +But Father Thrift said: "Go just this once more. And if you do not +have better luck to-day you need not go again." + +So Shaggy went for the fourth time. + +And, as it happened, he did have better luck. + +When he reached the edge of the forest he seated himself beside a +large tree near the road, to watch. But the kind breeze was blowing so +softly that he soon fell asleep. + +And as he slept he dreamed a dream--a very strange sort of dream. + +He dreamed he was the king of Honeybee Land. All of his subjects were +honeybees, and there were exactly one million of them. + +In another month there would be half a million more of them. + +If he had so much honey now, think how much more he would have when +the other half million honeybees started to gather it! + +Now all that he had to do was to eat the honey as fast as the +honeybees made it. + +That seemed easy enough. _Um-m_, how he loved that honey! + +But soon he found out that bees are very busy and very thrifty little +things. + +Oh, how very, _very_ busy they kept him trying to eat all the honey +they made! + +Each day his stomach was getting larger and larger. How much farther +could it stretch? + +Then, "Whizz!" he woke up with a start. + +"I thought so! I thought so!" he said to himself, as he placed his +paws on his stomach and rolled up his eyes. + +But, no, his stomach hadn't exploded at all. He could feel that. + +Besides, there was an arrow lying right beside him. The arrow must +have hit him. + +Just then he happened to remember where he was. + +"The boys!" he said to himself. "The boys! In mischief, with a bow and +arrows." + +He looked around. And there they were, sitting under a tree not a +hundred feet away from him! + +He could see a bow and arrows on the ground beside them. But what were +they doing? + +They were holding something in their hands. First they would look at +it, then they would blow on it. Then they would look again and blow +again. + +The bear crept closer. Everything was clear to him now! The boys had +killed a bird and they were trying to find the spot where the arrow +had struck it. + +So interested were they in this that they did not notice the bear +stealing up behind them. + +When he got right over them he gave a dreadful growl: "Gr-r-r-r!" + +It was very loud and very fierce. + +"Why did you kill that bird?" he asked. "I have a good mind to eat you +alive." And he gave another fierce growl. + +The boys acted like frightened rabbits. They were too astonished to +speak. + +The bear picked up the bow and arrows. + +"One, attention!" he commanded. "Two, get ready! Three, go!" + +The boys took to the path which led toward their homes. But the bear +called them back. + +"You don't understand," he said. "Now, go the other way. To-night you +must report to Father Thrift. Gr-r-r-r! And not another word." + +This last command must have been a bear joke, for the boys had not +uttered a word. + +Then away they all started--the boys as Shaggy's prisoners--for the +cave in the forest. + + + + +THE BOYS AND THE BIRDS + + +The boys spent an uncomfortable night in Father Thrift's cave. + +Half the time they could not sleep. And, worse still, the other half +they dreamed such dreadful dreams! + +But the next morning, after they had had breakfast with Father Thrift +and Shaggy Bear, the boys felt much better. + +Still, they had a feeling that something terrible was about to happen +to them. How they longed to go home! + +Then the queer little old man seated himself on a log just outside the +door of the cave. + +"Shaggy Bear," he said, "go, tell Jenny Wren to ask all the birds of +the forest to come here." + +Soon all the birds had come. And, oh! what excitement there was when +they saw the boys! + +"Shoot them with an arrow! Hit them with a stone! Kill them!" the +angry little creatures cried. + +Father Thrift lifted his hand for order. + +When things were quiet, and the birds had gathered around him, the +queer little old man stood up. In a soft and somewhat sad voice he +said to the birds: + +"My friends, let us act calmly and justly. Let us consider well before +we decide on the punishment which these boys should receive if they +are found guilty." + +"But," protested Mr. Robin, "they climbed into our tree and stole our +eggs." + +"They ruined my home," cried Cousin Bluebird, "and they wasted your +apples in doing it!" + +"Yes, and they knocked down my nest and broke all the eggs in it," +added Mr. Kingbird. + +"They broke my leg with a stone from a sling shot," piped Brown +Thrasher. + +"And they killed my poor husband," cried Mrs. Bobolink. + +"They stole our four little children," sobbed the Meadow Larks. + +"And they shot a bird with an arrow yesterday," added Shaggy Bear. +"Here is the bird. Here, too, are the bow and the arrow." And he +handed them all to Father Thrift. + +"Why, they've shot my cousin, Blackbird!" cried the Crow, who had been +quiet up to now. "I have a good mind to bite off their noses and +scratch out their eyes." + +"R-r-r-r-r-r! Charr! charr! charr!" All the birds became very much +excited. They screamed and fluttered their wings, and their eyes shone +with anger. + +The boys were badly frightened. But Father Thrift quickly restored +order. + +He said: "Let us first hear what the boys have to say. We will ask +them a few questions." + +He faced the boys. "Did you do what the birds say you did?" he asked. + +The boys hung their heads in shame. + +Then one of them answered, after a pause, "I guess so." + +"_Why_ did you do it?" asked Father Thrift. + +"Well," replied the other boy, "most of the birds are no good, anyway. +They just eat everything we plant." + +"What of yours have they eaten?" asked Father Thrift. + +"The robins have been stealing our cherries," said the boy, "until we +have hardly any left for ourselves. + +"The bluebirds eat our berries and grapes. + +"The kingbirds eat not only our fruit, but our honeybees as well. + +"The brown thrashers eat our raspberries and currants, while whole +flocks of bobolinks get their food from our oat fields. + +"The meadow larks eat our grain. + +"And as for the blackbirds and crows, they are the worst thieves in +the world. They even pull up our sprouting grain. + +"So why shouldn't we kill the birds? They are our enemies, and they +do nothing but harm. + +"And, besides, we haven't killed more than a dozen of them. Who would +miss a dozen in a world so full of birds?" + +By this time most of the birds were quivering with anger. + +And they cried again: "Shoot them with an arrow! Hit them with a +stone! Kill them! + +"Who would miss two in a world so full of boys?" + +"Listen, my friends," said Father Thrift. "I agree with you that the +boys deserve to be treated in the same way that they have treated you. +They have been cruel. + +"Still, let us not act in haste or anger. Let us think matters over +well. Perhaps we shall find that some wrong has been done on both +sides. + +"Go, now, and return at two o'clock. We will decide then what it is +best to do." + + + + +INSECTS AND WORMS + + +Long before two o'clock that afternoon the birds returned to their +place in front of Father Thrift's cave. + +Some of them sat on the ground, some on the low branches of the trees, +and others in the bushes. + +Now and again Shaggy Bear came out to tell some bird that Father +Thrift wished to speak with him. + +Evidently important things were going on within the cave. But what? + +Oh, how the time dragged to those waiting birds! Would two o'clock +never come? + +At last the cave door opened again, and Shaggy Bear came out with his +prisoners. + +Shaggy was the sheriff, and his business was to take care that the +boys did not run away. + +Hardly were they seated when Father Thrift came out of the cave. + +In one hand he carried a roll of paper, and with the other he adjusted +the spectacles on his nose. He looked just like the judge he was +supposed to be. + +As in a regular courtroom, every one straightened up and was all +attention when the judge came. + +The queer little old man seated himself on the stump of a tree. + +Before him stood a high bench or table, made of rough boards. On this +he spread out his paper. + +Then, turning toward Shaggy Bear, he said, "The sheriff and the +prisoners will please step forward." + +And as they stood before him, Father Thrift read to the boys the +court's decision. + +"The one who sins against the birds," the decision ran, "sins against +man's best friends. + +"If we destroyed the birds, we ourselves could not live. Within a few +years there would be so many insects and worms that crops could not be +raised and plants could not grow. The bugs and the caterpillars would +eat all the leaves off the trees, while the worms would destroy the +roots. + +"The flies and other harmful insects would kill the cattle. And then +they would carry sickness and disease among us. + +"Why, the grasshoppers would dance on our very tables, while the +crickets sat on the dishes and played tunes! + +"The ants would use our kitchens for parade grounds, and the worms +would crawl under our feet, in our houses. + +"Yet you said that the birds were your enemies, and that they do only +harm. + +"You complained of the robins and the bluebirds; the kingbirds and the +brown thrashers; the bobolinks and the meadow larks; the crows and the +blackbirds. + +"So I have taken pains to look into the habits of each of these. + +"The robin, I find, works during the whole season to make it possible +for the farmer to raise his crops. He is a natural enemy of bugs and +worms. + +"He gets no pay for this work and asks for none. And the only reason +he eats your cherries is because you have destroyed the wild fruit +trees and berry bushes that used to grow by the roadside. Plant them +there again and the robin, and all the other birds too, will spare +your fruit. + +"The bluebird catches the bad bugs and grasshoppers and beetles and +spiders and caterpillars in your orchard. And he very rarely takes +even a bite of your berries or grapes. + +"The kingbird is a fine flycatcher and he does much good. Sometimes he +does eat a honeybee, it is true, but it must be because he mistakes it +for a large fly. + +"The brown thrasher makes his home in the swamps and groves. He does +eat some raspberries and currants, in addition to the harmful insects +he devours, but nearly all of these must be wild ones. + +"The few oats the bobolinks eat you could never miss, because these +birds feed mostly on insects and the seeds of useless plants. + +"The meadow lark saves thousands of dollars every year on the hay +crop. He builds his nest on the ground in the meadow and feeds himself +and his large family on the crickets and grasshoppers he finds there. + +"The crow and the blackbird, I know, eat some of your corn. But they +will not touch the seed corn if you put coal tar on it. + +"Both of these birds do a great deal of good, for which they get no +credit. In the spring they follow the plow in search of large grub +worms, of which they are very fond. They also eat grasshoppers, and +weevils, and caterpillars. + +"All of which goes to prove that the more birds we have, the fewer +bugs there are, to bother us. And the fewer bugs there are, the more +food we have. + +"Therefore, I find that you two boys are guilty of a great wrong. Not +only have you killed the farmer's most valuable friends, but you have +destroyed food as well. + +"Your punishment will be one year in prison for every bird that you +have killed." + +At this the boys almost dropped to the ground, they were so badly +frightened. + +"Oh, Father Thrift," they cried, "please don't put us in prison! We +have learned a lesson, and we promise never to kill another bird if +you will only let us go." + +"My friends, what do _you_ think?" asked Father Thrift, turning to the +birds. + +The hearts of the birds softened at the sight of the boys' distress. +And they said, "Give them another chance, Father Thrift." + +"But theirs is a serious offense," Father Thrift said gravely. + +Then he turned toward the boys. + +"I will release you on one condition," he said, "and that is that you +will henceforth be kind to all harmless living creatures, and protect +them from cruel usage. + +"Also, that you will ask all the other boys, and their fathers as +well, to do the same. + +"Build bird houses for your feathered friends and encourage them to +come to your villages and farms. + +"In the end you will profit greatly by it." + +"We promise to do that," the boys agreed eagerly. + +"Now Shaggy Bear will help you to find your way out of the forest," +said Father Thrift. + +"Your bow and arrows I shall keep, for you will never want them again. + +"And when you get home, tell your fathers and mothers, your +grandfathers and grandmothers, your brothers and sisters, and the rest +of my friends in the town, that Father Thrift sends them his best +regards." + +Then the boys said good-by, and they wasted no time in going. + + + + +AFTER MANY DAYS + + +The whole town was searching for the two missing boys. No one could +imagine what had happened to them. + +"We shall never see them again!" sobbed their mothers. But they did +see them. + +That very day, when the little birds had gone to sleep in their nests, +and the crickets chirped by the roadside, while night and the stars +looked down upon the earth, the two tired and hungry boys appeared. + +Their mothers and fathers were overjoyed at their safe return. + +All the townspeople crowded about them. + +But the people could hardly believe the strange story they told. + +"Father Thrift! Father Thrift!" they cried. "Why, it cannot be!" + +For this was none other than the quaint old town in which the queer +little old man had lived for so many years. + +"Upon our word and honor!" said the boys earnestly. "See, we cross our +hearts." + +And they did. + +This seemed to satisfy most of the villagers that the boys were +telling the truth. + +"Still, the forest is dense with trees and brush," said one old man, +shaking his head doubtfully. "And it is alive with wild and dangerous +animals. + +"Not one of _us_ has ever dared to go beyond the edge of _that_ +forest. How could Father Thrift live there?" + +"Let us not doubt," said another old man. "We had better follow the +advice which has been sent us. + +"Have we not suffered since Father Thrift left us because we would not +take his advice? + +"We did not appreciate him when he was here. We have learned to +appreciate him since he went away." + +So the wonderful story was told and retold for miles and miles around. +And Father Thrift's good advice was taken to heart. + +And the birds came by hundreds to live in the neighborhood. + +The crops grew better each year. + +And the people felt happier. + +Then they pondered the things which Father Thrift had taught them. And +they did again as they had done when he was with them. + +They lived simply, spent wisely, and wasted nothing. + +And the quaint old town and the country around it grew prosperous, as +in the days of old. + +Then after many days the people said: + +"We must enter the wood at all costs--even at the risk of our lives. + +"We must find good Father Thrift and do him honor." + +So they went down the crooked road that led to the forest and went in. +The two boys led the way. + +They heard the birds singing in the trees. + +They saw the squirrels leaping and running. + +They heard the ripple of the silvery brook. + +They breathed the perfume of the pine trees and the firs. + +They traced the footprints of bears, and rabbits, and deer. + +Every little thing interested them now. + +They gazed at the tender blue sky above. Never before had it looked so +beautiful. + +Never had the grass seemed so fresh and sweet and green. + +Nor had the flowers ever seemed so richly colored and so sweetly +scented. + +Truly, the forest was a glorious place! + +And nowhere--nowhere did they find the dreadful animals which they had +lived to fear these many years. + +But they found a cave, a very strange sort of cave. It had two windows +and a door. + +Inside were two beds and two chairs, and a table and a fireplace. + +On the wall hung a home-made calendar. + +Just outside the door was a high bench or table, and back of it stood +a tree stump. + +"This is the place where Father Thrift lived," said the boys. "How +well we remember it!" But Father Thrift was not there now. The place +was vacant. + +"The queer little old man must have gone to live in the beautiful, +happy, sunny land of which he often talked," said one of the men. And +the others agreed with him. + + * * * * * + +Still stands the cave in the forest. People from miles and miles away +visit it. + +The guide tells them the wonderful story of Father Thrift and his +animal friends. And it seems that with each retelling the story grows +more and still more wonderful. + +And there is a bird that lives in the wood which on moonlight nights, +whether he sits on a branch, or hops on the ground, or flies about, is +always heard whistling, "Fa-ther Thrift! Fa-ther Thrift!" + +Many people misunderstand and think that he is saying, +"Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!" + +But why any one should wish to whip any one else I do not know. For +the world is such a happy place. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43287 *** |