diff options
Diffstat (limited to '77858-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 77858-0.txt | 5576 |
1 files changed, 5576 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/77858-0.txt b/77858-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..38f541a --- /dev/null +++ b/77858-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5576 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77858 *** + + + + + OLD ROUGH THE MISER. + +[Illustration: “And, with a few prodigious leaps, gained the stream, +into which she sprang.” + +PAGE 273] + + + + + OLD ROUGH THE MISER. + + A Fable for Children. + + BY + + LILY F. WESSELHOEFT, + + AUTHOR OF “SPARROW THE TRAMP,” “FLIPWING THE SPY,” “THE WINDS, + THE WOODS, AND THE WANDERER.” + + _ILLUSTRATED BY J. F. GOODRIDGE._ + + [Illustration] + + BOSTON: + ROBERTS BROTHERS. + 1891. + + + + + _Copyright, 1891_, + BY ROBERTS BROTHERS. + + + UNIVERSITY PRESS: + JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. THE BEGINNING OF THE FEUD 7 + + II. OLD ROUGH AT HOME 14 + + III. OLD CAW’S COUNSEL 30 + + IV. THE CORNFIELD 45 + + V. THE GREAT BASSO-PROFUNDO 63 + + VI. THE YOUNG CROWS’ TRICK 80 + + VII. DECLARATION OF WAR 93 + + VIII. SWIFT PUTS BOBTILLA AND THE SQUIRRELS ON THEIR GUARD 111 + + IX. THE CROWS PLAN A SURPRISE FOR OLD ROUGH 128 + + X. OLD ROUGH IN DANGER 145 + + XI. THE COMBAT 162 + + XII. THE WIDOW O’WARTY’S RECEPTION 176 + + XIII. THE RIVALS 188 + + XIV. FLUFF IS LOST 204 + + XV. FLIPWING MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY 218 + + XVI. OLD ROUGH EXPOUNDS A LAW OF THE WOODS, + AND OLD CAW FORMS A PLAN 236 + + XVII. THE BATTLE 254 + + XVIII. THE CHAPERON 274 + + XIX. THE CHARM 291 + + XX. THE SPELL IS BROKEN 308 + + + + +[Illustration: “At last, bleeding and maimed, they agreed to lay the +case before the owl.”] + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE BEGINNING OF THE FEUD. + + +Once upon a time there lived on a large farm a crow, a water-rat, an +owl, a frog, and a weasel. Large as the farm was, with its meadows, +its fields, and many acres of woodland, it would seem as if these +little animals might have lived in harmony, without encroaching on one +another’s domains. Such was not the case, however; and indeed it is +a well-known fact that the more one has the more one wants, and that +there are some who wish to possess the earth. + +This is how the quarrel began. The water-rat, who lived on the edge of +the brook, claimed the right to a cornfield near by, which the crow had +always considered his own. The quarrel ended in a fierce fight which +lasted many hours, neither being able to conquer the other. At last, +bleeding and maimed, they agreed to lay the case before the owl and +abide by his decision, for he had the reputation of being very wise. + +One moonlight night, the owl repaired to a large oak-tree on the edge +of the wood; and about him assembled the crow and the water-rat, with +various friends whom they had brought as witnesses, besides many other +interested parties. + +Very solemn did Judge Owl look, as he sat with his great yellow eyes +wide open and staring straight before him. The trial was conducted with +great formality, each party stating his own case. + +First the crow called up his witnesses, field-mice and squirrels. All +expressed the opinion that the cornfield belonged by right to the crow, +because they had been told by their fathers and grandfathers that the +crows had always held possession of it. + +After this testimony, the water-rat stated _his_ case, and summoned +_his_ witnesses the frogs. They were of opinion that the water-rat +should have the cornfield because he had always had it, and because he +couldn’t live on the food the brook afforded him. Much bickering went +on between the witnesses of both parties, until Judge Owl interposed +thus,-- + +“Come to order, and pay attention to what I say. I have heard both +sides, and my mind is made up. The cornfield belongs to the crow.” + +Angry squeals were heard from the water-rat, and loud croaks of +disapproval from his witnesses the frogs, who sided with him,--not from +a conviction that he was right, but because he held control of the +brook and threatened to keep them out of it unless they testified in +his favor. + +“Silence!” commanded the judge, with an angry hoot. “The cornfield, I +say, belongs to the crow, for corn is his natural food. What business +has a water-rat with corn? None at all. I am told it is indigestible +for him; and all I can say is, that if it _does_ agree with him it +ought not to, and that it is a mistake. The brook is the place for the +water-rat: let him stay there, and live on what he can find in it. If +he can’t find anything, let him go without it,--that is his look out. +Can crows live in the water? No. Consequently the cornfield belongs by +right to the crow. + +“Another argument in favor of the crow is that he can fly off when +anybody comes. Can a water-rat fly? Not that I ever heard of. There is +still another argument, and one that is indisputable. Was there ever a +cornfield that didn’t have a scare-crow in it? Did anybody ever hear of +a scare-_rat_? General opinion carries the day,--the cornfield belongs +to the crow. + +“Now I command you to keep the peace. As long as the water-rat persists +in his absurd claims, there will be bloodshed and strife. I will repeat +to you a verse from ‘The Laws of the Woods,’ that states the case as +clearly as daylight--I should say moonlight. + + “‘War and strife, grief and woe, + Follow you where’er you go. + Never more shall you know rest + For weary feet and aching breast, + Till body round and lithe and long + Shall vanquish body thick and strong. + Then shall dawn a day of peace, + And every strife and sorrow cease.’ + +“Now the matter is settled, and I must be off, as I have another case +to decide on the farther side of the wood;” and away flew Judge Owl. + +Exulting caws from the victorious crow and triumphant squeaks from +the mice followed; but with an angry squeal the water-rat announced +his determination to keep possession of the cornfield. The verse from +the “Laws of the Woods” that the judge had read, had no meaning for +the assembled party; nor indeed had it for the judge himself, who had +pondered long over it, and perhaps this had something to do with his +hasty departure. + +Consequently, the decision of the owl did not change matters in the +least,--both the crow and the water-rat claimed the cornfield as +before. The mice and squirrels sided with the crow, and the frogs with +the water-rat; and the water-rat hated the crow even more than before, +and vowed vengeance on the mice and squirrels for taking part against +him. + +The weasel, like the owl, had no especial interest in the matter +at stake, but kept by himself, living under stone walls or in the +neighborhood of hen-roosts and barns,--a deadly enemy of rats and mice, +and consequently carefully avoided by them. + +In this manner things went on until our story opens, several +generations later. The scene of action is the same farm, but the +originators of the quarrel have been long dead and forgotten, having +transmitted the feud to their descendants. + + + + +[Illustration: “He soon reached the opening, before which stood a +little field-mouse, who glanced timidly up.”] + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +OLD ROUGH AT HOME. + + +Our story opens on a dark day in summer, and in a piece of woodland so +far removed from the busy life that stirs cities and large villages, +that it was seldom any sound arose to break the stillness of Nature, +except those made by the animal creation who dwelt there undisturbed by +the depredations of mankind. + +At a first glance, it would seem as if not even animal life were there, +so profound was the silence. A brook, or more properly a ditch, for so +sluggish a stream hardly deserved the name of a brook, flowed torpidly +through a meadow which was bordered by forest trees and thickly growing +underbrush. + +At a first glance, as we said, no motion was perceptible, but a keen +eye on the lookout for signs of life might have detected a dark object +creeping along the soft and slimy banks of the ditch, often stopping +to look about him and listen. It was a large water-rat, his long rough +fur failing to make him an agreeable object, for the cruel expression +in his keen little eyes that were placed closely together, and the +long, sharp teeth that seemed constantly on the lookout for something +to devour, would have deformed any face. + +As the water-rat proceeded cautiously on his way, as we said before, he +stopped frequently and looked about him, sometimes casting his sharp +eyes around to see if anybody were approaching, and at all times on +the watch for trespassers on his domains; for the water-rat considered +himself the proprietor of the meadow, and in a measure also of the +forest that stretched beyond it. + +All at once, the old rat stopped short and examined the ground about +him, where the prints of small feet in the mud were visible. “I thought +so!” he exclaimed to himself; “those mischievous field-mice have been +here again, gnawing those tender young roots that I have been keeping +my eye on. Just let me catch them at it, and their tails will be even +shorter than they are now. They’re even worse than the crows, for they +are so small they can slink around without being seen.” + +A jeering laugh from behind startled the water-rat, and turning quickly +he descried two young crows seated on a rock near by, and regarding him +with countenances expressive of great amusement. + +“Be off, you young thieves,” snarled the old rat, angrily; “how dare +you trespass on my premises?” + +For answer the young crows each inclined an ear toward the water-rat +in a listening attitude, as if to catch his words, and then burst into +derisive caws. + +“Don’t speak quite so loudly, sir,” remarked one of the crows. “I knew +an old fellow of about your age who busted a blood-vessel, and ’twould +be a pity to have you taken off so suddenly; you’d be a great loss to +the neighborhood, you’re so sociable.” + +“And he was first cousin to the fellow who died because he tried to +save expense by living without eating,” said the other crow. + +The old water-rat was too wise to continue a conversation in which he +was sure to be worsted; so he continued on his way, followed by the +taunts of the young crows. + +“How much will you take for your skin, old Rough?” called out one, +while the other chanted,-- + + “There was once an old miser, who thought + He could live upon little or nought; + But one day he died, + And his wife sold his hide + For a sum much more than she ought.” + +“Young villains!” muttered old Rough to himself, as he scurried home, +“I’ll pay them for this.” + +The water-rat stopped before a hole, and looking stealthily behind +him, to make sure that no one was in sight, noiselessly entered his +habitation. A long and narrow passage, in which the darkness increased +as he progressed, led finally into a large apartment, which served +evidently as the living and sleeping room of old Rough; for a pile of +dried leaves and old rags in one corner apparently served as a bed. + +Another rat sat on this bed, evidently in the act of taking a hasty +lunch, for so silent had been her husband’s entrance that Ruffina was +not aware of his approach until he appeared before her; then with +a frightened expression she hastily swallowed the mouthful she was +masticating, and with a quick motion concealed something under the +leaves that formed the bed. + +“Not so fast, madam,” exclaimed old Rough, springing to the spot where +his wife had hidden her prize; and in a twinkling he drew forth a large +walnut, into which Ruffina had had time only to drill a hole with her +sharp teeth. + +“So, madam!” exclaimed the old rat in a harsh voice, looking from +the nut to his trembling wife, whose eyes anxiously followed all his +movements, “so this is the way you obey me, is it? How dared you touch +those nuts when you knew they were not to be eaten?” + +“But they are last year’s nuts, and most of them are wormy and musty,” +answered Ruffina, submissively; “and I thought you wouldn’t care.” + +“You thought I wouldn’t care?” squealed the old rat, bringing his teeth +together with a snap that made his wife shiver. + +“I was so hungry,” pleaded Ruffina, meekly, “and the nuts are really +spoiled.” + +“What!” shrieked old Rough, with a spring that brought him in front of +his terrified wife, “have you lost the little sense you ever possessed? +Don’t you know that I can mix those nuts in with this year’s, and pass +them off for fresh ones? And see here, madam, I think you said just now +that you were hungry. Don’t let me hear any more of such nonsense. +Don’t you eat as much as I do? We must pinch and scrape, and _starve_ +if necessary, to get a little forehanded, or we shall die paupers.” + +“But we are not poor,” replied Ruffina, meekly. “Look at the piles of +roots and mussels and snails over there. Every one says you are richer +than anybody about here, and--” + +Poor Ruffina ended her sentence in a cry of pain, for her cruel husband +darted suddenly upon her and fastened his long teeth in one of her ears. + +“If you are too stupid to comprehend my words, perhaps you can +understand that!” exclaimed the ill-natured old miser, as his poor wife +retreated to a corner, whining. + +A soft voice at the door here attracted old Rough’s attention, and +entering the passage-way, he soon reached the opening, before which +stood a little field-mouse, who glanced timidly up at the hard face of +the old miser. + +“Well, what do you want, Bobtilla?” asked the old rat, with a grim +smile at the discomfiture of the little field-mouse. + +“I came to ask if I might have one of those tender roots down by the +dam?” said Bobtilla, timidly. + +“What!” exclaimed old Rough, harshly, “you have the audacity to ask me +for one of my tender young roots?” + +“One of my children is ill,” squeaked Bobtilla in her mild voice, “and +he thought he would relish one of them. He has so little appetite now +that he can’t eat the scraps I manage to pick up.” + +“Oh, he can’t!” growled the old rat. “Well, what will you give me in +exchange for my tender young root? Do you know, madam, that every one +of those little roots brings me a pile of corn?” + +“I shall without doubt be able to pay you when the crops are ripe,” +answered the little field-mouse; “but we have eaten up all our winter +store, and shall have to scrape along as best we can till midsummer.” + +“The more fool you,” snarled the old water-rat. “Let me tell you, +madam, that I don’t indulge in luxuries; if I did, I should probably +have to go about begging as you do. No, when you come with your pile of +corn, you shall have the tender root that your sick child craves, not +before. Now be off. You’re a thieving set, like all the others about +here, and I want you to keep off my premises;” and the old miser turned +and re-entered his dwelling. + +Poor little Bobtilla turned sorrowfully away from the miser’s abode, +and retraced her steps to her home. How could she go back to her sick +child and tell him that she had returned without the tender root he so +much desired? The more Bobtilla thought over the matter, the harder it +seemed to her, and she cast many a longing glance toward the dam where +the tender roots grew. + +“Why did the miser claim the whole meadow?” thought Bobtilla. He had +no more right to it than she or many others. Merely by right of his +superior strength did he claim it. Was it possible she could gnaw off a +small piece without being detected? Bobtilla hesitated as she arrived +opposite the dam, and glanced quickly in the direction of the tyrant’s +abode. Far off as it was, she was certain she saw the miser sitting in +the doorway, and trembling at the thought of the terrible revenge that +would overtake her should she attempt to touch the coveted root, she +reluctantly continued her way. + +As Bobtilla passed under the wall that led to her home, pleasant tones +fell on her ear, and the voice being a new one, she stopped and looked +about her. A chipmunk whom she had never before seen, sat on the top +of the wall, holding in her little forepaws a large nut, into which she +was drilling a hole, at the same time conversing in a cheerful voice +with another chipmunk, who sat on the branch of a large chestnut-tree +above her. Bobtilla, hidden behind a stone, paused to listen. + +“So he told you they were his trees, and that we couldn’t have any of +the nuts when they were ripe, did he?” said the squirrel on the wall, +examining the nut to see how deep the hole had become. + +“Yes, my dear,” replied the squirrel on the tree; “but I reminded him +that the wood was a large place, and that there was room for all in it.” + +“What did he say to that?” asked the other squirrel, whose sharp teeth +had now penetrated the hard shell of the nut. + +“Oh! he still kept up his bluster; but I think we needn’t fear him. I +don’t know who he is, that he should give himself so many airs, but we +can let him alone, and perhaps he will not interfere with us.” + +“I can tell you who he is,” squeaked Bobtilla; “he is a disagreeable +old miser, and his name is old Rough.” + +The two squirrels looked about them in astonishment, for they had +thought themselves alone, and the little field-mouse hopped onto the +stone behind which she had been concealed. + +“I can tell you all about him,” she said. “You must be strangers about +here not to know who old Rough is. I was at his house just now, to +beg a little root of him. There are ever so many of them growing down +by the dam, and I thought he might let me have one for my sick child; +but he refused, because I had no corn to give him in exchange. You see +our winter supply has gone,” continued Bobtilla, who was encouraged to +proceed by the good-natured countenances of her listeners, “and one +of my children is ill, and can’t eat as the rest of us do. All we had +was a grasshopper’s leg that was hard and dry. It is of no use to try +to soften old Rough’s heart, and I suppose I must see my child die for +want of proper food.” + +The two squirrels exchanged glances, and the mother squirrel, +Squirrella, said,-- + +“Would your sick child relish a nut, do you think? I am quite sure +we have a few chestnuts left, and they are quite easy to break;” and +before Bobtilla could reply, Squirrella had disappeared in a hole in +the wall. In an instant she was back again, carrying a chestnut in her +mouth; and depositing it at the feet of the little field-mouse, she +said in her motherly way,-- + +“When he has eaten that come back for more. I know what it is to have +sick children. + +“We have but just moved here,” continued Squirrella, interrupting +Bobtilla’s profuse thanks. “We have always lived in one place, but the +woods were being thinned out to make room for human habitations, and we +felt the necessity for a change. One day our friend Swift the swallow +told us of this place, so we moved here.” + +“This seems a very peaceful place,” said Squirrello, the squirrel on +the tree, “and I don’t see how old Rough can hurt us if we keep out of +his way. All of your other neighbors are harmless, aren’t they?” + +“Yes,” replied Bobtilla, “I believe so,--unless it is old Blinkeye. +He is very strong and fierce, you know,--that is at night. Nobody is +afraid of him in the daytime, for then he can’t see a thing.” + +“Old Blinkeye,--and what kind of a creature is he?” asked Squirrello. + +“A very large owl,” replied the field-mouse. “As I said before, look +out for him at night, for then he is dangerous; but in the daytime, +why he couldn’t harm a fly, and I wouldn’t even turn out of the way if +I met him.” + +Here a slight rustling of the leaves in a tall tree near by attracted +their attention, and, giving one hurried glance in that direction, +Bobtilla shrieked, “Old Blinkeye!” and in spite of her assertion that +he was perfectly harmless in the daytime, seized her chestnut, and +darted off to her home with great speed, not once stopping to look +behind her. + +The two squirrels, startled by Bobtilla’s sudden exclamation, took the +alarm, and whisked into their hole in the wall. + + + + +[Illustration: “Well, young gentlemen, he began in the high, cracked +voice of extreme age, you did well to return.”] + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +OLD CAW’S COUNSEL. + + +When the two chipmunks found themselves inside their house, they +listened in breathless silence, their little hearts beating fast with +fear; but as all was still, and they found they were not pursued, +curiosity began to get the better of them, and they felt a desire to +obtain a glimpse of the dangerous being that had inspired Bobtilla with +such terror. + +Noiselessly approaching the opening of their house, Squirrello put out +his head and glanced cautiously around. On the tall tree sat a large +bird, such as the squirrel, who had hitherto lived on the outskirts +of a large town, had never seen. His strong claws grasped tightly +the bough on which he rested, and his large yellow eyes that gleamed +through the foliage looked straight before him. The pointed tufts on +his head and his large hooked beak gave him a vigilant and fierce +expression, and at intervals he blinked his eyes solemnly. It was a +great grandson of Judge Owl, who, many years before, had settled the +dispute between the crow and the water-rat. + +Squirrello having made these observations from his door, turned and +addressed his wife,-- + +“Come, Squirrella, and look at this strange creature. We have certainly +seen nothing like him.” + +Squirrella glanced toward a corner of her house, where, on a soft bed +of leaves and moss, lay two young chipmunks fast asleep. + +“They are all right,” replied her husband, reassuringly, “old Blinkeye +can’t get in here.” + +“How I dread the time when they are old enough to run about by +themselves,” said Squirrella, anxiously. “I almost wish we had remained +where we were.” + +“You forget the cats there,” answered her husband. “Evidently old +Blinkeye is the only creature we need fear besides the water-rat, and +owls are dangerous only at night.” + +“Then why did the field-mouse seem so alarmed at sight of him?” asked +Squirrella. + +“Because she is afraid of everything. Come, my dear, don’t be as +foolish as she is, but take a good look at this remarkable-looking +bird, that you may avoid him in future.” + +Thus encouraged, Squirrella took heart and followed her husband to the +door, and after a moment, seeing how silently and quietly the owl sat +on his perch, she became emboldened to join her husband on the top of +the wall, where they both remained, watching the great solemn eyes of +the fierce Blinkeye. + +The two chipmunks conversed in low tones, and the owl was evidently not +aware of their presence, for he still looked straight before him in the +same solemn manner. + +A laughing and cawing was heard before long, and two noisy young crows +lighted on a tree directly opposite the silent owl. + +“How are you, father Blinkeye?” asked one of the crows, familiarly. The +owl turned his head slightly towards the voice, but maintained the same +dignified silence. + +“You don’t happen to know what the parrot died of, do you, my friend?” +asked the other crow; but as he received no answer, he continued,-- + +“Well, he died of talking, and I thought perhaps you might have +symptoms of the same disease.” + +The owl continued silent as before, and fixed his solemn yellow eyes on +the impertinent young crows, who after a while became somewhat uneasy +under his steadfast gaze. With a show of indifference they indulged +in personal remarks intended to annoy the silent owl, but to all +their impertinence the owl was apparently unmoved, and at last broke +silence:-- + +“Let me advise you, my young friends, for you are _very_ young in +experience, to be a little more careful in your selection of a place +to conceal your stolen treasures. I am astonished that such shrewd +young fellows as you consider yourselves should have shown so little +judgment.” + +“What do you mean?” asked both together. + +“Oh! nothing,” answered the owl, carelessly. “I thought perhaps you +might sometime have occasion to conceal a bone or delicate scrap of +meat your old grandfather had given you as a reward for good behavior, +and I have _heard_ that you were not as careful as you might be in your +selection of hiding-places.” + +“So you have been spying, have you?” exclaimed the younger crow, +angrily. + +“I?” asked the owl, coolly. “Oh, no, I was merely repeating what I had +heard. Old bones and scraps of meat do not attract me; I prefer _live_ +game.” And at the words, the two little chipmunks suddenly darted into +their house, and remained there until the mischievous crows had taken +flight, and all was still once more. + +“You see, my young friends,” continued the owl, “that you are better +known than you think you are. Did you ever hear that verse about your +family in ‘The Laws of the Woods?’ I will repeat it to you, that you +may form some idea of the reputation you bear:-- + + “‘Wherever you are, and wherever you go, + Beware, oh beware, of the saucy crow! + His feathers are black and his beak is long, + And he has a croak instead of a song. + His pleasure it is to hide and to steal; + No creature for him does affection feel; + I pray you avoid him, the mischievous crow, + For there’s no trick that he does not know.’” + +“Capital!” exclaimed the two crows, bursting into caws of laughter. +“Give us some more verses from ‘The Laws of the Woods’!” + +“I will,” replied the owl, severely, and still gazing fixedly on them, +he repeated in warning notes:-- + + “‘War and strife, grief and woe, + Follow you where’er you go. + Never more shall you know rest + For weary feet and aching breast, + Till body round and lithe and long + Shall vanquish body thick and strong. + Then shall dawn a day of peace, + And every strife and sorrow cease.’” + +“Suppose you tell us what it means?” said the elder crow. “Who is the +‘body round and lithe and long,’ and who the ‘body thick and strong’?” + +“You will find out to your sorrow before long,” replied the owl, +solemnly; “but ‘the day of peace’ will dawn for the rest of us.” + +“In return for your compliment, I’ll recite for your benefit a verse +that is a little easier to understand,” said the elder crow:-- + + “There was once an owl who said, ‘I + Really would not hurt a fly;’ + And through the long day, + He sat blinking away, + But when the night came, oh my!” + +As the crow finished his verse, he and his brother flew off with great +flapping of wings and derisive jeers, cawing out the lines as long as +they were within hearing of the owl. + +When they were out of sight, the two crows looked at each other, and +the younger said,-- + +“How do you suppose he found out about that pig’s ear?” + +“I’m sure I don’t know; somebody probably watched us. One thing he said +is true,--he always wants live food himself.” + +“I’ll tell you how it is,” replied the younger brother, “Old Rough is +an acquaintance of his, and he is always prying about, and wouldn’t +hesitate to help himself to anything he might find. Yes, we’ll have to +find a new hiding-place.” + +“Hush!” said the elder brother, as they came in sight of their home; +“don’t talk so loudly. There’s the old gentleman on the lookout, and +old as he is, he hears quicker than any of us.” + +On the top of a tall fir-tree, where the branches grew thickest, +reposed the home of the crow family,--and a most untidy and insecure +structure it was, looking as if the materials had been flung against +the tree and caught there; for mud and twigs, and rags and feathers +appeared to be mixed indiscriminately, and the whole nest looked as +though it might tumble down at any moment. + +In spite, however, of the insecure appearance of her home, the +mother-crow was seated comfortably within, and several young crows were +perched on neighboring branches, noisily cawing. + +On a tree near by, apart from the others, as if he wished to avoid +their noisy cawing, sat a crow whose appearance indicated that he was +a person of distinction in the crow family, and when the hilarity of +the younger crows grew unusually loud, the mother sitting in the nest +glanced uneasily towards this solitary figure, and sharply enjoined +silence. + +For awhile after her admonitions, the voices became lower; but soon, +with the exuberant spirits of youth, the young crows again forgot +themselves, and they all cawed together as excitedly as before. + +As the two newcomers appeared, the old crow on the tree by himself, +turning his head sideways, glanced at them out of one eye, but +otherwise bestowed no attention on them. + +“Where have you been all day?” asked the mother-crow in a querulous +voice. “Your father has been everywhere to hunt for you, and your +grandfather is much displeased.” + +“We were looking for provisions for the family,” replied the elder +brother, winking at the other. + +“A likely story!” replied his mother. “You have been idling away your +time in some folly, I know. You never are here when you’re wanted.” + +The young crows knew by experience that this was the beginning of a +long lecture, and they remained silent until their mother had ended. +All this time the old crow had not stirred; but when the mother bird +had ceased, he said briefly,-- + +“Come here, I have something to say to you.” + +Their mother’s scoldings the young crows did not mind, for they were +too frequent to make a deep impression, and she told them of so many +faults at once that her reproofs lost their force; but when old Caw +their grandfather spoke, it was always to the point, and left them in +no doubt as to his meaning. + +The two young crows at once, therefore, obeyed the summons, and lighted +on a branch opposite the old crow, who for a moment regarded them in +silence. It was no wonder that the countenances of these reckless +young creatures fell beneath the gaze of that shrewd old face. + +Old Caw, as he was familiarly called, the leader of the flock, although +having long outlived his generation of crows, had still sufficient +energy of character left to enable him to sustain the position of +counsellor and leader that he had for so many years ably borne. One eye +only remained to him, the other having been pecked out in a quarrel in +his youth; but in that single eye was concentrated all the shrewdness +and ability that distinguished him even among the ablest of his kind. + +“Well, young gentlemen,” he began, in the high cracked voice of extreme +old age, “you did well to return when you did. The expedition starts +shortly, for we must have two good hours before sunset.” + +The young crows knew that it was not to tell them this that their +grandfather had called them and eyed them so sharply, and they looked +at one another sheepishly. As he continued silent, they turned to leave +him; but he called them back. + +“See here, my fine fellows, the next time you steal a pig’s ear from +me, don’t be so clumsy about it. There is a right and wrong way of +doing things, and you can’t be too particular about these little +matters.” + +The young crows looked still more confused, as they learned that their +grandfather had discovered their little theft. + +“Did you really think old Caw was so stupid as to hide his pig’s ear +where you could find it so easily? No, I assure you he is too old a +head for that. I purposely put it where you would come upon it, for I +wanted to teach you a lesson, and sometime I will show you how to do +such things neatly. Your education has really been neglected. However, +it is time to be off, and here come our friends.” + +As he spoke, several crows appeared, flying rapidly towards them. Very +little time was spent in preparations for starting, and when all were +in their places, old Caw placed himself at the head of the little +flock, and with much flapping of wings and discordant cawing, they flew +off in the direction of the woods. + + + + +[Illustration: “Many a smaller bird started up in terror from its leafy +retreat, and occasionally a squirrel or rabbit scurried into its hole.”] + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE CORNFIELD. + + +Old Caw led his flock of crows through the dense wood, and startled +by the constant cawing that broke the stillness of the forest, many +a smaller bird started up in terror from its leafy retreat, and +occasionally a squirrel or rabbit scurried into its hole, to remain +there with fast-beating hearts until the harsh noises had died away in +the distance. + +As they passed over a grove of pine-trees, they met another flock +of crows flying in an opposite direction, and a discordant cawing +arose from both parties, the elder members of each band trying, with +the wisdom that age brings, to silence the younger ones; but in +this attempt they were unsuccessful, and, with a few sharp words of +reprimand, old Caw started his party again, with the exception of his +two pugnacious grandsons, who remained behind to settle the dispute +with two equally persistent members of the opposing party. Before long, +however, they were seen rapidly flying to join their flock, in high +spirits at having settled the matter to their satisfaction. + +No other incident occurred to disturb the progress of old Caw’s little +band, and soon they passed over cultivated fields and open meadows, +the keen eye of the veteran leader taking in all the possibilities of +the country. + +At last Caw halted his band on the edge of a fine maple grove, and +they beheld before them a fertile field in which were planted crops of +various kinds. It was the very cornfield about which, years before, the +quarrel had arisen between the crow and the water-rat. + +A stone wall, with a row of maple-trees in front of it, separated the +field from the road. + +“Why not light on those maple-trees, where we can see something going +on, instead of hiding here in this out of the way place?” asked one of +the party. + +“This is not Sunday,” replied old Caw, severely. + +“What has that to do with it?” asked a youthful member of the flock, +while the one who had made the proposition retired abashed to the rear. + +“What has that to do with it?” repeated old Caw, harshly. “A good deal, +I should say. It means that on Sunday we could sit in a row by the side +of the road from morning till night, and not a soul would think of +harming us; but on a week day there would be a dozen guns pointed at +us before we had been there five minutes. I want to give you a little +advice before we begin our work. Don’t caw so much. At the slightest +provocation you set up such a noise that the whole neighborhood is down +upon us, and as soon as they catch sight of us there will be an end to +our fun. See if you can’t remember this, and make up your minds to do +your talking when you get home. Now for business. + +“Do you see those little mounds over there beyond the potato patch? +Well, that is for a late crop of corn, and every one of those mounds +is full. You, Blackwing,” continued old Caw, addressing the young crow +who had asked the question a short time before, “remain on the top of +this tree, and look all around you, particularly in the direction of +the house and barn, and if you see any one coming, give one caw to warn +us. And the rest of you, if you hear Blackwing caw, fly up at once, +without a sound, taking care even not to flap your wings loudly, for if +we succeed in escaping without being seen, we can return and finish our +work.” + +Blackwing at once flew to the topmost branch of the tree, and the other +members of the flock followed old Caw into the field of newly planted +corn. Proceeding to one of the little mounds, the leader, with two +or three skilful movements, scratched it open, and eagerly devoured +the yellow kernels he found there. The others followed his example, +and soon all were busy, and making sad havoc in the cornfield. They +remembered the admonitions of old Caw, and preserved a discreet +silence, stalking about among the little hills in their most dignified +manner. + +Suddenly a loud and continued cawing was heard from the sentinel on top +of the tree, and up flew the marauders, cawing excitedly and flapping +their long wings noisily, not stopping to look around until they had +all lighted on various branches of the maple-trees, when they all +talked and scolded together. + +Old Caw flew to a tall tree whence all could see him. “Stop!” he called +out, as soon as he could be heard amid the din of excited voices; +“don’t let me hear any more of this disgraceful proceeding. Stop this +minute, I say!” + +The discordant cawing gradually resolved into a confused murmur +of voices, a few of the boldest still keeping up a low muttering +of discontent; but so great was the excitement, that, as the last +murmur died away, one persistent young crow (and we regret to have to +acknowledge that it was one of old Caw’s own grandsons) started a fresh +complaint, and in a second the excitable creatures were all cawing +together louder than ever. + +Old Caw was almost beside himself. His weak, cracked voice was drowned +in the general tumult, and driven to desperation at the insubordination +of his followers, he rushed fiercely at them and distributed some sharp +pecks indiscriminately. This had the desired effect, and at last order +was restored. + +“I am astonished at such outrageous behavior!” he said sternly, when he +had regained his breath lost by this unusual exertion. “No, no more of +it,” he added quickly, as the persistent young crow who had once before +started the commotion opened his beak to speak. “It is _my_ business +to settle this matter. In the first place, sir,” he continued, turning +to Blackwing, “why did you not caw _once_, as I ordered you, instead of +raising such a hubbub? And, indeed, why did you caw at all? For I see +no human being in sight, and I had especial information that the men of +the family were away from home.” + +Blackwing’s countenance fell under this severe reproof of his leader, +but he hastened to defend himself. + +“I kept watch as you directed,” he began, “and saw nothing suspicious +for awhile, until suddenly I beheld old Rough scurrying along as fast +as he could come, and he stopped directly under the tree where I was +watching. ‘This is a pretty state of things,’ he began, ‘stealing my +corn, you pack of thieves! Be off, or I’ll know the reason why!’ I was +naturally indignant, for I knew we had the best right to the cornfield, +and I reminded him of it, whereupon he became vicious, and said the +field belonged to him, and he didn’t care what the owl had decided, and +that he intended to trade with the corn. He became so abusive that I +lost my temper, and forgot orders and called out to you.” + +“Where is the old miser now?” demanded old Caw, sternly. + +“Oh, he slunk away as soon as I called out, and in all probability is +hidden in some hole about here.” + +“I should like to see him,” exclaimed old Caw, fiercely; “it would be +some time before he meddled in my affairs again. His cornfield indeed! +The old fellow carries things with too high a hand; and if I don’t find +a way to stop him, my name isn’t old Caw.” + +One of the flock proposed to visit the cornfield again, and others fell +in with the proposition; but old Caw silenced them by reminding them +that it would be impossible now, at their greatest speed, to reach home +before sunset, so much time had been spent in useless conversation. + +“What harm would there be in remaining out a few minutes after dark?” +asked one of the number. + +“Have you forgotten Blinkeye?” asked old Caw, gravely; and at these +words they silently came into line, and followed their discreet leader +without any more discussion. + +As soon as the flock of crows had left, a grizzled, shaggy object +crawled out of a hole at the root of a tree, and the sharp and +unpleasant features of old Rough appeared, an ugly grin displaying his +long yellow teeth. + +“You’re very sharp, my friend Caw, I admit, but you are not so sharp as +your humble servant. So you intend to stop me, do you, my fine fellow? +Well, I’m ready for you. The first step toward it would be to stop +the mouths of your followers, for thanks to their incessant jabbering +I know all about their plans almost as soon as they do themselves. +Now let me see what I’ll do. As I am in the neighborhood, I’ll take +advantage of the opportunity to evict Bobtilla. Let’s see, which is the +shortest way?” And, sitting on his haunches, the old water-rat cast +his shrewd eyes about him. His keen sight at once showed him the right +direction, and he started off with great speed. + +Before long old Rough stopped before a stone wall and looked about him. +“It should be here,” he said to himself. “I remember I took that large +round stone as a landmark. Yes, here it is,” and he at once went to a +small hole that led under the wall. + +The opening was too small for old Rough’s large body, so in his sharp +voice he called Bobtilla’s name. + +“Here I am,” squeaked the little field-mouse, mildly; and in a moment +she appeared before her dreaded landlord, and timidly asked the cause +of his unexpected visit. + +“I have come, madam,” he replied, eying her sharply, “to give you +notice to quit these premises.” + +“To quit these premises?” repeated Bobtilla, in astonishment. + +“Yes, madam, I said to quit these premises,” replied the old miser, +harshly. + +“Oh! what have I done that you should be so hard with me?” asked the +little field-mouse, imploringly. “I have never done you or any one any +harm.” + +“Have you kept your bargain, madam?” replied old Rough. “Where is the +grain I expected to receive as rent for allowing you to remain on my +premises?” + +“I have been so unfortunate,” pleaded the little mouse, in a tearful +voice. “The winter was a hard one, and our stock of provisions was +eaten up long ago. If you will only trust me a little while longer, the +crops will then be ripe, and I will pay you double what I owe you!” + +“Don’t think to deceive me by your professions of poverty,” said the +miser, in so loud and harsh a tone that little Bobtilla started back +terrified. “You think to make me believe you are poor, do you? Then +please to inform me how those chestnut shells came to be lying there, +will you?” And he pointed to some shells that were scattered on the +ground. + +“Oh! those were given me for my sick child,” exclaimed Bobtilla, +eagerly. “He has no appetite, and when you refused me the tender root +I asked you for, some kind chipmunks who have recently moved here took +pity on me and gave me a chestnut.” + +“So, you have been complaining of me to your neighbors, have you? +Very well, madam, since they take such an interest in you, they are +welcome to the benefit of your society. Let me see this place vacated +by to-morrow at this time.” + +“Oh! have pity on me,” said the poor little field-mouse, imploringly. +“I can’t move my sick child so soon. Do give me a little more time, at +least.” + +“Not an hour!” replied the old miser. “To-morrow at this time I shall +return, and if I find you still here,”--he finished his sentence by +a vicious snap of his long sharp teeth, that left Bobtilla in no +uncertainty as to his intentions, and reduced her to a state of despair +at the thought of the steps she should take to find a home for her +little ones, and above all, for the sick one, whose condition gave her +such anxiety. + +As for old Rough, he went toward his home, happy in the thought +of little Bobtilla’s misery, and smiling to himself with great +satisfaction, as he recalled her tremulous tones and tearful face, for +never was old Rough so happy as when he had made others miserable. + +Crossing the meadow, he went in the direction of the brook or ditch +that led to his habitation, for he preferred the slimy and muddy +borders of the ditch to any other path; and when he reached it, the sun +had been down for some time, and twilight was gradually deepening. + +The ditch was quite full from recent rains, and the soft mud felt cool +and moist to his dry feet after his long journey; and so comfortable +was he, that he proceeded very slowly, and recalled as he went the +pleasures of the afternoon,--his success in preventing the crows from +eating all the corn they wanted, and the misery to which he had reduced +poor little Bobtilla. Before he knew it, darkness was upon him; but +that he did not mind, for his keen eyes could see in the darkness as +well as in the light. + +So on went old Rough, with a light heart, when suddenly a loud hoot +sounded just above him, and with a sudden start, he saw the bold +Blinkeye, who could see clearly in the dim light, rushing fiercely +toward him. + +Large as the old water-rat was, Blinkeye was larger and stronger, and +the old miser shuddered as he thought of those strong talons that had +borne off so many prizes; and he remembered, too, how often he had +laughed as he had seen the poor victims struggling in that relentless +grasp. + +Nearer and nearer came the huge owl, his glittering eyes fastened on +his prey; and old Rough, his quick eyes taking in every point of the +situation, in a few long leaps reached a place where the ditch widened, +and with a vigorous bound plunged into the dark and muddy water, diving +under the surface as his pursuer darted down to seize him. + +The water-rat was old, and not so vigorous as in his youth; but his +long life had taught him many useful lessons, and his experience more +than compensated for the loss of his activity. + +Now began a race for life,--the old rat diving and swimming and dodging +about in the turpid water, every inch of which he was familiar with, +and the large owl pursuing him, and often pouncing down, only to find +his prey had escaped him; and now came an opportunity for the old +water-rat to display one of those strategic movements for which he was +remarkable, and which completely deceived even the wise owl. + +The home of the water-rat was situated on a bank of the ditch where +the water was deepest, and the owl felt sure that when the old miser +left the water for his dwelling, which he would be sure to do, he could +quickly seize him, and bear him away. The owl, however, did not know +the precise spot of his victim’s abode, and the wily rat passed it, +and, turning unperceived in the deep water, swam back and entered his +dwelling, while the discomfited owl was still hunting for him some +distance down the stream. + + + + +[Illustration: “While in a melancholy voice, and with a strong French +accent, he sang the following lines.”] + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE GREAT BASSO-PROFUNDO. + + +Very great was Bobtilla’s distress after she had received the notice of +eviction from her hard-hearted landlord, and all night she lay awake, +trying to form some plan for the future; but each one was abandoned +almost as soon as it was formed, for the making of a new home is a +matter for deep reflection, the happiness and welfare of a family +depending so entirely upon it. + +The spot where Bobtilla had hitherto resided, and which she was so +cruelly compelled to leave, had many advantages of situation. It was so +far removed from other dwellings that there was nothing to be feared +from enemies, and as the little field-mouse was very particular about +the society she chose for her children, she considered the seclusion a +great advantage. + +The longer Bobtilla pondered on the subject, the stronger became her +conviction that her next move must be nearer the habitations of others, +who would protect her in case old Rough should further persecute her. +Having satisfied her mind on this point, she fell into a deep sleep, +from which she did not awake until the day was well advanced. Then, +perceiving the sun shining in through the small opening of her house, +she started up hurriedly. + +So deep had been the slumber of the little mouse, that during it all +sense of the recollection of her trials had vanished, and for a moment +she forgot the misery she had undergone before sleep came to her +relief; but by degrees the feeling that all was not right stole over +her, and gradually a full sense of her unfortunate situation returned. + +Notwithstanding her natural timidity, Bobtilla was not entirely without +energy, and she lost no time in useless repining; so hastily putting +her house in order, and making her children comfortable, she set out +with all speed to consult her new friends, the chipmunks. + +The amiable couple heard with indignation how badly the field-mouse had +been treated by the cruel miser, and they at once tried to think of a +way to help her out of her difficulty. + +“You had better come nearer to us,” said Squirrello, when the little +mouse had ended her sad story. “You will be farther away from old +Rough, for he has not ventured into this neighborhood.” + +“Yes, and we can perhaps help you to a little food now and then,” added +Squirrella. + +“You are very good to me,” replied Bobtilla, gratefully. “I’m sure I +don’t know what I should do without you.” + +“Well, and why shouldn’t we be? What are we here for, if it is not to +help one another?” asked Squirrella. + +“If everybody were of your mind, how easily we could live,” sighed +Bobtilla; “but as a general thing, the strong prey on the weak, and the +rich on the poor.” + +“Well, at all events that isn’t _our_ way,” replied Squirrella, +cheerfully; “so now we will decide on a new home for you. Let me see, +there is a nice place under that large stone just behind you. I have +often thought it would be a good building-spot for somebody. How does +it strike you?” + +“Capital!” exclaimed Bobtilla, joyfully. The kind reception she had +met with raised her spirits wonderfully, for it meant a peaceful home, +where old Rough would cease to persecute, and plenty of food for her +children until she could succeed in accumulating another stock of +provisions. + +So Bobtilla set to work with a will, and soon had a convenient house +made to her satisfaction. When all was ready, she collected dried +leaves and soft bits of moss, and made a comfortable bed for her +children, smiling with satisfaction as she contemplated the comfort she +had succeeded in effecting. + +The praise of the two chipmunks, who complimented her on her skill, +was very satisfactory, and she hastened to return to her children, +in order to remove them to their new abode. Before the time set by +old Rough, the little field-mice were safely established in their new +quarters, and eating a good supper provided by their thoughtful friends +the chipmunks. + +While these events, of so much importance to Bobtilla and her family, +were taking place, the two young crows were idling away their time, on +the constant lookout for something with which to amuse themselves; and +as they had not succeeded in appropriating the property of any one else +or in doing any especial mischief, they felt that the day had not been +a success, and time hung heavily on their hands. Alighting on a tree in +the meadow, they cast their shrewd eyes about in all directions for any +chance that might occur, and occasionally gave a languid caw. + +Sitting thus idly, the tones of a deep bass voice struck on their +ears; and seated on the margin of the stream they beheld a large +bull-frog gazing pensively into the water below, while in a melancholy +voice, and with a strong French accent, he sang the following lines:-- + + “Not always did I feel so bad, + With eyes so heavy and heart so sad. + Since many days I do not feel + Desire to eat a hearty meal. + No longer bugs and flies I eat, + And grasshoppers with prickly feet. + Indeed it was not always so; + My feelings have received a blow. + The melting voice of her I love + Is now tuned for another cove. + That fairy form, those eyes so yellow, + Belong now to another fellow.” + +As the bull-frog ceased he sighed profoundly, and large tears rolled +down his cheeks and splashed into the sluggish stream. The two young +crows, rejoiced at the prospect of a diversion, flew down from the +tree, and seated themselves on the bank of the stream opposite the +mournful singer. + +“What’s up, Johnny?” they asked. + +With a sigh that threatened to rend his capacious bosom, Johnny the +basso replied,-- + +“She have deserted me. My sweetheart have left me for anozzer. I am in +despair!” + +“Who, the little green frog who lives down by the dam?” + +“No!” replied the basso, indignantly; “it was no leetle green frog. +My sweetheart is fine; she have one fine figure--Ah! qu’elle est +charmante!” + +“It was the little green one last week,” answered the younger crow, +dryly. + +The mourner took no notice, but continued his lamentations. + +“She have left me for anozzer. She say, our voices they not blend +well,--I, zee great basso-profundo! She prefer a tenor, she say. I ’ate +a tenor, he squeal like one pig!” + +“Who is he?” asked the elder crow. + +“I know not how he call hisself, but I will find him!” exclaimed the +bull-frog, fiercely. “I will cr-crush zat tenor! He sall know what it +is to insult zee greatest basso-profundo on zee earth. I will make zat +tenor to tremble!” + +“After you have found him,” remarked the younger crow. + +“But I will found him, I say!” exclaimed the excited basso. “I will +hunt zee earth for zat tenor! My great talent, my vast wealth, they +sall succeed in finding zat wr-r-etch who have deceived me,--_me_, zee +greatest living basso-profundo on zee earth!” + +“Why don’t you consult old Blinkeye?” asked the elder crow. + +“What you say he call hisself,--Blinkeye? I have nevare heard from him.” + +“Old Blinkeye is the wisest fellow about here,--knows all the laws +of the woods by heart. Why, even my grandfather consults him, and my +grandfather is no chicken, I can tell you.” + +“How know old Blinkeye anysing about my sweetheart? How will he find +zis miser-rable tenor?” + +“If he doesn’t know now, he will find out. He flies about all night, +and learns a good many secrets that way. Oh, he’s a wise old fellow, is +Blinkeye, and fierce too. Nobody knows how old he is.” + +“I sink he too old. Zee mind grow weak when old age come.” + +“No, not a bit of it,” replied the elder crow. “Then he is so strong +and fierce, the tenor had better look out when he catches sight of him.” + +“I sink perhaps your fine Blinkeye eat me up. He say to hisself, ‘Great +basso-profundo fat and tender,--he make nice dinner. Tenor thin,--more +bones as fat. I sink rather I eat great basso.’” + +“He is only fierce at night. In the daytime he is as blind as a bat, +and sits and thinks. Then, when night comes, he flies about, and it is +better to keep out of his way. Come, you’d better go and see him.” + +“Well, I go wiz you,” answered the singer, after a moment’s reflection. + +Accordingly off set the three, the bull-frog hopping, and the crows +walking behind him; but the bull-frog with his long leaps made much +greater headway than the crows with their short steps, and the latter, +when the frog was nearly out of sight, would use their wings to reach +him, and at last adopted a gait between walking and flying. + +The bull-frog was not in the habit of taking such long trips, and +was obliged to halt occasionally; and these rests were spent in +conversation, during which the basso recounted many valiant exploits he +had achieved. + +“Zis place is not large enough for so great a singer as I,” said the +bull-frog; “my talent is too great to rest in zis small place. One here +has no taste; one knows not what is musique. When I lived in great +meadow far away,--ah! there it was fine! every evening zey come, so +many how zey could, to hear zee great basso.” + +“Why didn’t you stay there, Johnny?” asked the younger crow. + +“I was one fool,” replied the bull-frog. “I say, ‘Zese peoples zey make +me tired wiz zere praise;’ so I say to myself, ‘My friend, you sing too +much, your fine voice will ruin; better you move to some ozzer place, +where zere are not so many peoples.’ So I move here.” + +“And a very wise move it was,” replied the elder crow. “But here we +are, and there sits old Blinkeye.” + +They stopped before the owl, who sat silently on a tree, with his usual +solemn expression. He slightly turned his head in the direction of his +visitors, but it was evident he did not see them. + +“How do you find yourself to-day, Father Blinkeye?” asked the elder +crow. “We have brought a friend to consult you on a very important +matter.” + +“Who is he, and what does he want?” demanded the owl. + +The bull-frog hastened to introduce himself thus: “I am zee greatest +basso-profundo on zee earth. Doubtless you have heard mention my +great talent. I sing so deep,--zere is no basso who so deep sings. My +_répertoire_, ah! it is _énorme_.” + +“What is your business with me?” inquired the owl, who remained unmoved +by this announcement. + +“My sweetheart she have left me,” replied the bull-frog. “She have left +me, _me_, zee great artist, for one tenor! I wish to find zat tenor! I +wish to have revenge!” and he scowled fiercely at the recollection of +his wrongs. + +“What do you expect me to do about it?” asked Blinkeye, coldly. + +“I sought zat perhaps you would have zee goodness to find zat tenor for +me, sair.” + +“That isn’t in my line,” replied Blinkeye. “My business is to expound +the laws of the woods.” + +“Zen will you be so kind, sair, as to tell me zee law zat will find zat +tenor?” asked the basso, eagerly. + +“Let me see where that comes in,” said the owl, meditatively, and +remained deep in thought, with one great yellow eye closed, and the +other staring straight before him. This had such a solemn effect, that +the basso felt sure such vast wisdom must procure for him the aid he +desired. + +“Aha!” exclaimed the owl, after awhile, and slowly unclosing his eye, +“I have it. Now listen attentively, for I don’t take the trouble of +repeating these laws. Such a strain on my mind tires it and makes it +dangerous for me. + + “‘Tirra, rirra, high and shrill + Is heard throughout the meadow still; + And near the marshy bog is sung + The musical, deep-toned a-hung! + Take the one, and leave the other, + And end this weary strife and bother.’ + +“Now leave me, that my mind may rest after such an effort,” added the +owl. + +“But I know not what it mean, sair,” exclaimed the basso, in +bewilderment. “I know no more zan before, what I am to do. Will you +have zee goodness to explain zat law to me.” + +“No,” replied the owl, severely, “I will not. My business is to recite +the law, and yours to understand it. If you don’t, that’s your loss. +Now go.” + +“But, sair,--” began the basso. He did not have time to finish his +sentence, however, for the two crows pushed and dragged him out of the +owl’s presence, promising to explain to him on the way home the meaning +of the law of the woods recited by the owl. + +“It’s as plain as can be,” said the elder crow, when they had succeeded +in starting the basso toward home; “don’t you see? ‘Take the one and +leave the other,’ why, of course you’ll take _the one_, and you’ll +leave the other when you only want _the one_, won’t you?” + +“But zat does not tell me where I sall find zee tenor,” persisted the +basso. + + “‘Tirra, rirra, high and shrill, + Is heard throughout the meadow still,’-- + +that’s the tenor of course, with his high voice, and it tells you as +plainly as possible that you’ll find him in the meadow,” explained the +younger crow. + + “‘And near the marshy bog is sung + The musical, deep-toned a-hung,’-- + +that’s _you_ of course, with your deep bass. Now do you see your way +clearly?” + +This explanation appeared so very simple that the basso could but +acknowledge it. + +“Zee meadow is one large place,” he said. + +“Oh, well! now we know he is there, we’ll find him for you, and the +little brown frog will not be far off, you may be sure,” said the elder +crow. + +Thus reassured, the bull-frog hopped briskly home, accompanied by the +crows, who walked and flew by his side. + +“I sank you, Messieurs, for your kindness,” said the basso, when he +stopped before his door, “and I sall know how to reward you. Au revoir, +Messieurs,” and, gracefully saluting his young friends, Johnny the +basso hopped into his hole. + + + + +[Illustration: “The young crows’ trick.”] + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE YOUNG CROWS’ TRICK. + + +“We shall have some fun with Johnny the basso,” said the younger crow, +as he stopped to gobble up several fat crickets that had collected on +a piece of decaying fruit that lay by the roadside. + +“An’ is it that yees would be afther taking the food from the mouths of +a poor widder an’ her childer? Indade, an’ it’s a long time since the +poor craturs have tasted the loike of these,” said a voice from behind; +and suddenly turning, the crows beheld a large fat toad, who watched +with indignation their lunch off the fat crickets. + +“Who are you, pray?” asked the elder crow, “and why haven’t we as much +right to eat these crickets as you?” + +“It’s the Widow O’Warty I am, wid rispict to yees,” replied the +toad, with dignity; “an’ if it’s the two foine wings of yees meself +possissed, it’s not craping around I’d be, to take the food from poor +widders an’ childer.” + +“How did we know you wanted these crickets?” asked the younger crow. +“You are welcome to them for all we care. We prefer our food well +seasoned.” + +The Widow O’Warty became pacified under this partial concession, and +resumed the plausible manner for which she was noted. + +“It’s me custom,” she explained, “to sthroll out afther the light is +quinched, in s’arch of a thrifle to ate. There do bees foine crickets +about here, an’ that’s the troot av it.” + +The elder crow whispered to his brother, “Let’s pass her off on Johnny +as the brown frog he’s lost.” + +“How can we, this great fat toad?” replied the other brother, in the +same low tone. + +“In the dark, you goose, he wouldn’t know the difference, and we’d +hide, and have lots of fun.” + +The younger crow cawed approval, the widow meanwhile eying them +shrewdly, half suspecting that she herself was the subject of their +whispered conversation. + +“See here, Widow,” began the elder crow, “you know Johnny the basso, +don’t you?” + +“Is it the swate singer down by the bog ye mane?” asked the widow. + +“Yes, I see you know him.” + +“It’s the foine deep v’ice he possisses,” replied the widow; “an’ it’s +many a night meself has listened to the swate sounds.” + +“He’s mashed on you, Widow,” said the elder crow; “he’s about as far +gone as I ever saw any one.” + +“Be off wid yer nonsinse!” exclaimed the widow, not displeased at the +news. “It’s fooling yees are.” + +“Upon my honor, Widow,” replied the elder crow, seriously; and +addressing his brother he asked, “Didn’t we hear him singing about her +beautiful brown skin and her fine yellow eyes?” + +“That we did,” answered the younger crow, promptly; “and, my eyes! +didn’t he howl, though, when he talked about her?” + +“I’ll not bel’ave yees,” said the widow. “It’s making game of meself +yees are.” + +“Not a bit of it, Widow,” asserted the elder crow, earnestly. “True as +we’re sitting here, we heard him singing about his sweetheart, who had +a brown skin and yellow eyes.” + +“An’ did he say ’twas the Widow O’Warty he was after m’aning?” asked +the widow. + +“He didn’t exactly mention the name,” replied the younger crow, +evasively, “but he described you so correctly that he couldn’t have +meant anybody else. We told him we’d help him all we could.” + +“The Widow O’Warty is me name, an’ me abode is op_po_site us; an’ if +he’s the gintilman I take him for, he will presint himself an’ declare +his intintions,” said the widow, loftily. + +“Then you’ll not be hard on him, will you, Widow?” asked the elder crow. + +“Whin he has stated his intintions, it’s meself that will consider his +proposals,” replied the widow, majestically. + +“Then we’ll ease his mind by telling him you will allow him to call,” +replied the younger crow, as he and his brother flew off. When they +were out of sight and hearing, they gave vent to the merriment they had +been obliged to conceal from the watchful eyes of the widow, and their +loud caws resounded through the wood. + +Twilight was now approaching rapidly, and the two crows flew home as +fast as their wings could carry them. + +Early the next morning, the brother crows awoke, and were soon on +their way to the dwelling of Johnny the basso. They found him sitting +pensively on the border of the stream that flowed by his door, and +abstractedly snapping at stray flies and bugs that came within reach +of his long elastic tongue. Even these savory morsels were swallowed +without any apparent enjoyment, but with a subdued and mournful +countenance, as if he were performing some solemn rite. + +“How are you this morning, Johnny?” called out his two visitors, as +they seated themselves on a low bush that grew near by. + +“I am miser-r-rable, my friends,” replied the bull-frog, sadly, his +large eyes swimming in tears. “I am not able to sleep. I sink on zee +leetle brown frog. I weep, ah! how I weep for my sweetheart!” + +“What should you say, Johnny, if we were to tell you we had found zee +leetle brown frog?” asked the elder crow. + +“What should I say?” exclaimed the bull-frog, with a sudden change of +manner. “I should say zat it is incredible, messieurs,--zat it is +impossible zat you should find zee leetle brown frog in so short a +time.” + +“That’s just what we have done, Johnny.” + +“Where is she?” exclaimed the singer, enthusiastically. “I fly to her, +_mon ange_, _mon ange_!” + +“Don’t be in too great a hurry, Johnny,” said the crow, cautiously. +“You mustn’t take her by surprise. Wait till night comes, and then you +can go and serenade her.” + +“It is impossible to wait until zee night come,” replied the basso, +excitedly; “now, zis minute, I fly to see zee leetle brown frog. But +zee tenor? I forget zee miser-r-rable tenor who have stolen her from +me. Where, I demand, is zis tenor?” + +“We haven’t found him yet,” answered the elder crow, “but we will, in +time. He is probably not far off. You remember what the owl said,-- + + “‘Tirra, rirra, high and shrill, + Is heard throughout the meadow still.’ + +He must still be in the meadow, you see.” + +“I go to fight wiz zat tenor!” exclaimed the bull-frog, furiously. “I +will cr-r-rush zat tenor! But you have not say where is zee leetle +brown frog.” + +“You see that small scrub-oak over in the field?” asked the elder crow, +nodding his head in the direction of a small oak that grew by a stone +wall. “Well, she lives in a hole in that wall. You will find her easily +enough.” + +“I sank you, messieurs, for your kindness,” said the basso, in his most +gracious manner. “Permit me to make my adieu zat I may compose a song, +zat zee leetle brown frog sall find zat my voice is so fine as before.” + +“Good-by,” called out the crows, as they flew away, “and good luck to +you.” They looked back as long as they were in sight, and saw that the +basso sat motionless before his door, gazing silently into the depths +of the stream. + +The mischievous crows waited with impatience for the coming of night. +It was not their habit to be out after sundown, but so eager were they +to witness the result of their practical joke, that they resolved to +pass the night in the neighborhood of the Widow O’Warty’s abode, that +they might see and hear what would happen. Accordingly, late in the +afternoon they set out, and reached their destination soon after the +sun had set. + +A large maple-tree hung its branches over the wall near by, and on one +of these branches the young crows perched, and sitting motionless, with +their heads sunk between their shoulders, they awaited the development +of their plan. + +The eavesdroppers dared not converse, for fear of detection, and very +hard it was for them to remain silent for so long a time, it being +their habit to caw incessantly. Twilight soon appeared, and settled +into darkness, and after what seemed to the listeners a long time, the +moon rose over the tops of the forest trees, and gradually sailed into +the sky. + +This was a great relief to the young mischief-loving crows, for now +they began to discern objects, and they felt sure that the beautiful +moonlight would tempt the basso to steal forth to his trysting-place. + +As the rays of the moon lighted up the wall under the tree on which the +crows sat, they cautiously stretched forth their mischievous little +black heads. At the door of her dwelling, in the shadow thrown by the +scrub-oak, they discovered the matronly form of the Widow O’Warty, her +prominent eyes shining in the moonlight. + +Exchanging glances of suppressed merriment, the two crows, barely +succeeding in smothering their laughter, again allowed their heads to +sink between their shoulders, and resumed their former solemn attitude. +They had not much longer to wait, for soon their shrewd eyes descried +a dark form hopping through the grass, and rapidly approaching the +scrub-oak. + +When within a few feet of the widow’s door, the new-comer stopped, +and after a few ineffectual attempts to conquer his emotion, sang the +following verses, in a voice that at first trembled perceptibly, but +gradually increased in strength, until the full tones of his deep bass +resounded through the still evening air. + + “The moon is on the bog, + The dew is on the lea; + The voice of every frog + Is calling, love, to me. + The noisy, gathering throng + Is calling on my name; + It clamors for a song + From singer of great fame. + A-hung! + + “But the applause I hear + Is nothing now to me; + I’d give it all, my dear, + For one sweet croak from thee. + All frogs, from far and wide, + They linger ’round the bog, + They pine to be the bride + Of the bull-basso-frog! + A-hung! + + “In dreams thy form I spy, + And in my fond arms take; + But all those visions fly + When in the morn I wake. + Then pray no longer hide, + But let me hear thy voice; + Come to me, lovely bride, + And bid my heart rejoice. + A-hung!” + +The full deep tones of the last “a-hung” had scarcely died away on the +summer air, when the Widow O’Warty, who had, during the song, moved +restlessly about, first on one foot and then on the other, suddenly +gave vent to her emotions by hopping up to the singer and exclaiming in +her shrill croak,-- + +“Faith, an’ it’s meself that will put an ind to your suffering, me poor +cratur!” + + + + +[Illustration: “Before the crows could reply, old Rough, who had +listened with great satisfaction to the conversation, and had by +degrees crept unperceived to the tree, hastened to reply.”] + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +DECLARATION OF WAR. + + +At the Widow O’Warty’s words, the melancholy singer gave a sudden +start, and when the widow herself stood before him, he gazed in +astonishment at her stout figure; but with native French courtesy he +quickly recovered his self-possession, and bowed with great politeness +to the smiling toad. + +“An’ is it so cruel ye take me to be as to kape ye longer waiting? +’Dade, an’ I’ll come till ye,” said the widow, tenderly, and she hopped +briskly to the bull-frog’s side, and gazed smilingly into his face. + +Johnny the basso was much disconcerted at the widow’s advances, and +for a moment he was silent. True, however, to his nature, in which was +great courtesy toward the fair sex, he quickly suppressed the feeling +of aversion that came over him, and answered politely,-- + +“Madame does me infinite _honneur_, but Madame mistakes; Madame +doubtless has many suitors, and she does me the _honneur_ to sink me +one of them.” + +“Faith, an it’s not so fur out of the way ye are,” replied the widow, +slyly. + +The basso found himself in an embarrassing situation. It was evident +that this toad, whom he had never before seen, thought the words of his +song addressed to her, and his sense of politeness made it difficult +for him to tell her that she had made a mistake, and appropriated to +herself sentiments that were intended for another. + +“Is it that Madame does me zee _honneur_ to sink zat zee words of my +song were addressed to her?” asked the basso. + +“Fwhat ilse, in the name of the howly saints, would ye have me think, +whin it’s afore me door ye sthand? _Av coorse_ I considered the worrds +addrissed to meself.” + +“If it had been my good fortune to have met Madame, I could not have +found words ardent enough to express zee grand passion wiz which Madame +would have inspired me,” answered the basso, with great politeness. + +“Thin why in the worrld did ye station yeself afore me door, if the +worrds were addrissed to another party?” asked the widow, angrily. + +“It is because one told me that here lived her whom I sought,--whom +I sall always seek while I have life,” answered the bull-frog, with +intense feeling. + +“Fwhat is the name av the raskill that tould ye this was not me abode?” +asked the widow, indignantly. + +“Two young crows have informed me,” replied the bull-frog, “and zey +sall give me satisfaction. Zey sall learn what it is to trifle wiz zee +great basso.” + +“An’ it’s the same as tould me ye had lost your heart to meself, an’ +apprised me of your coming the night,” answered the widow. + +“I will seek zem in zee morning,” said the basso, fiercely. “Zey sall +answer to me for their impertinence. _Au revoir_, Madame. Believe +me, I sall lose no time to avenge zis insult;” and as he hopped away, +the two young crows, no longer able to conceal their merriment at the +success of their joke, flew away, laughing “Caw, caw, caw.” + +This naturally added to the basso’s vexation; but the young crows were +soon far away, their “caw, caw, caw” being audible as long as they were +in sight. + +It was at an early hour the next morning that the indignant basso set +off to find these mischievous young crows who had caused him so much +annoyance; and, early as it was when he reached their home, he found +only old Caw, who was perched on his favorite tree in a meditative +attitude, and the mother of the young crows, who was engaged in feeding +her young family, scolding and complaining all the while. + +So engrossed was the mother-crow, that it was some time before the +bull-frog succeeded in attracting her attention. As for old Caw, it +was impossible to tell whether he was aware of what went on about +him, for his one eye was apparently closed, and he seemed in that +indifferent state of mind that extreme old age produces. Those who +knew him well, however, knew that this was a trick of his to escape +observation, and that he was never more alert than when he was +apparently in this apathetic state. + +“What do you want?” asked the crow-mother, when the bull-frog had +succeeded in attracting her attention. + +“Zere are two very mischievous young crows whom I seek, Madame,” +answered the basso. “I wish to speak wiz zose young crows.” + +“There are not any of that description here,” replied the crow-mother, +shortly. + +“Pardon me, Madame, but one has told me zat I sall find zem here,--zat +zey are your sons.” + +“They told you wrong, then, for my sons are steady, hard-working +fellows, who never did any mischief in their lives.” + +The old crow from his tree here gave an abrupt croak, which to the +bull-frog sounded like an expression of surprise; but when the +bull-frog quickly glanced at him, he found him with such a sleepy and +imbecile expression on his pinched countenance that he concluded he +must have been mistaken. + +“It cannot be that I have wrong,” said the bull-frog, firmly. “Zee +mischievous young crows of whom I speak live here. I have seen them +often. It was yesterday zat zese young crows played me a sad trick,--I +wish to speak wiz zem.” + +“If it were yesterday, it couldn’t have been my sons, for they were at +home all day,” answered the crow-mother, decidedly. + +The bull-frog, happening to glance in the direction of old Caw, caught +sight of his one eye wide open, and the bull-frog imagined that he +detected a particularly amused look in that expressive feature; but the +eye closed again so sleepily and naturally that he concluded he must +have been again mistaken. + +The bull-frog was far from being convinced that the mother-crow was +telling the truth about her sons, but courtesy prevented him from +pushing the matter further. + +“If Madame their mother says her sons to have been at home yesterday, +zen I have nozzing to say,” said the bull-frog, courteously. “I have +zee _honneur_ to wish Madame good-day;” and the discomfited singer +ended the unsatisfactory interview. + +As the bull-frog hopped toward home, he revolved in his mind the best +course to take in order to bring about a meeting with the young crows, +for he felt sure their mother would put them on their guard against +him; when suddenly he was surprised in his meditations by a caw +overhead, and looking quickly up, he beheld the old crow Caw sitting on +a branch above him. + +Old Caw was wide awake now, and his one eye beamed with as much +vivacity and intelligence as that of any young crow could have been +capable. + +“Stop a minute, friend Johnny,” said the old crow; “don’t be in such a +hurry.” + +The bull-frog, thus addressed, stopped, breathing fast from his +exertions, and regarded the self-possessed old crow with an angry +countenance. + +“Don’t be in such a hurry; take it easy, Johnny,” said the old crow, +coolly. + +“You have zee advantage of me, sair,” said the bull-frog, haughtily; +“you appear to be familiar wiz my name. I have not zee great _honneur_ +to be acquainted wiz zee illustrious name of Monsieur.” + +“Oh, yes, I know you well, Johnny,--I’ve heard you croak often enough +on moonlight nights,” replied the crow, with exasperating coolness, at +the same time bringing his one eye to bear on the indignant bull-frog. + +“You insult me, sair,” exclaimed the basso, excitedly. “It is that you +have no soul for musique. Croak, you say! You say zee greatest living +basso on zee earth croak!” + +“Don’t get excited, Johnny, I didn’t intend any insult,” said the old +crow, persuasively. “I came after you to be of service.” + +But the insult still rankled in the singer’s capacious bosom, and his +great throat swelled and vibrated with wounded pride, as he repeatedly +gave expression to his indignation. + +“Oh, come, Johnny, cool down and hear what I’ve got to tell you,” said +old Caw, soothingly. “You want to find the young crows who played a +trick on you, don’t you?” + +The bull-frog made a great effort to recover his self-possession, and +with much difficulty swallowed his resentment. + +“Yes,” he answered, after a great inward struggle, “I wish to know +where to find zose young crows.” + +“The old lady fibbed, of course,” said old Caw. “They _are_ her sons, +and I knew they were up to some mischief, for they went away yesterday +afternoon, after whispering and giggling together, and didn’t come home +until this morning.” + +“Can you tell me where I sall find zem?” asked the basso, eagerly. + +“Yes, I can,” replied the old crow. “I listened when they thought I +was asleep, and overheard their plans. They intend to hang around old +Rough’s place until he has gone out on one of his foraging expeditions; +and when he is out of the way, they have planned to steal into his +hole and help themselves to a fine bit of pork-rind they saw him +scurrying off with yesterday. You’ll find them somewhere in that +neighborhood.” + +“I sank you, sair,” said the bull-frog, politely, “for your very kind +information. I sall go at once to Monsieur Rough’s abode. Adieu, +Monsieur Corbeau;” and with his usual impetuosity, the bull-frog +hurried away in the direction of the old miser’s dwelling. + +Old Caw followed the bull-frog with his one eye as long as he was in +sight, and then gave expression to a caw of satisfaction. “I think +this will make me even with you for stealing my pig’s ear, you young +thieves,” said the old crow to himself. “I made you think I hid it +purposely, to teach you shrewdness in discovering hidden treasures, but +it wasn’t true. Old Caw must be getting old indeed, when two young +fools get the better of him. Yes, I think this last move of mine will +make us even;” and having uttered these sentiments, old Caw slowly +wended his way homeward. + +Meanwhile, the bull-frog, his heart set on confronting the crows with +their treachery, proceeded as fast as his slow powers of locomotion +enabled him to travel. At last, after a tedious journey, he reached the +neighborhood of old Rough, and halting within a short distance of the +miser’s abode, glanced about him. + +There was the old water-rat’s dwelling just above the ditch, and at a +short distance behind it grew a fine tree, among whose branches the +frog detected two black motionless objects. + +“Zee old crow had right,” said the singer, to himself, “zere are zee +two mischievous crows.” + +Stopping long enough to recover his breath, and keeping his eyes on +the two black objects in the tree, the bull-frog proceeded toward the +tree, followed at a distance by a dark object that slid through the +tall meadow grass, that halted as he halted, and that proceeded as he +proceeded. + +This dark object that followed the bull-frog, and was so careful to +escape detection, was old Rough, the water-rat. + +The bull-frog proceeded boldly to the foot of the tree and stopped, +and the water-rat concealed himself behind a large stone not far off, +and within convenient hearing distance. No other living creatures were +in sight, except a swallow that flew noiselessly over the meadow, +occasionally swooping on some unfortunate insect, and then soaring +swiftly high into the air. + +“Is it zat you are zere, my fine Messieurs!” cried the bull-frog, +fiercely, looking up at the young crows perched far above him. + +“Yes, friend Johnny, it is that we are here. How’s the little brown +frog you serenaded last night?” + +“It is zat I wish to confront you wiz your treachery, Messieurs,” +exclaimed the bull-frog, furious at this taunt. “I wish to tell you zat +you are great imposters; zat you have deceived Madame La Warty; zat you +have deceived me,--me, zee great singer, I say! But I have my great +reputation to avenge! I have Madame La Warty’s _honneur_ to defend.” + +“Oh, bother! the widow doesn’t mind that,” said the younger crow. “You +don’t mean to say she isn’t the brown frog you were looking for?” + +“Madame La Warty is one great fat toad, Monsieur!” exclaimed the +bull-frog, indignantly. “Did you sink zat I, zee great singer, would +have one toad for his sweetheart! No, sair, zat is not possible! Zee +young, zee beautiful are for zee great basso-profundo.” + +“How did you expect us to know the difference?” asked the elder crow. +“They look alike to us, any way.” + +The singer glared fiercely on the impudent young crow. “I sall have +revenge,” he cried in his deepest tones; “you sall answer to me for zis +insult. _Mon Dieu!_ he say a fat toad look like a frog!” + +“Well, we didn’t know,” said the younger crow. “We were told she was +the one, and we thought we were doing you a favor to tell you. How +could we tell you’d make such a row about it?” + +“Who is it zat told you Madame La Warty was zee leetle brown frog?” +inquired the singer, fiercely. + +Before the crows could reply, old Rough, who had listened with great +satisfaction to the conversation, and had by degrees crept unperceived +to the tree, hastened to reply,-- + +“Why don’t you tell the whole story, boys? Why not say that it was +Bobtilla who told you? If any one is to blame it is she. You only +repeated her words, you know.” + +“Yes, it was Bobtilla who told us,” asserted the young crows, boldly, +greatly surprised at the information, but glad to throw the blame upon +anybody’s shoulders. + +“Who is Bobtilla? I have not zee pleasure of her acquaintance,” said +the bull-frog, addressing the water-rat. + +“A meddlesome field-mouse,” explained the miser, viciously. “She looks +meek enough, but she is a mischievous creature, and takes delight in +getting honest people, like our young friends here, into trouble.” + +“I cannot demand satisfaction of a lady,” exclaimed the bull-frog; “but +I will challenge zee whole race of field-mice. I will exterminate zee +race. Zey sall know what it is to insult zee great singer. It sall be +war, until every field-mouse sall die.” + +“Now, Bobtilla,” said old Rough to himself, as he went toward his home, +“we will see how much help your new friends can give you. It will not +pay, my dear madam, to stand out against old Rough; he’s more than a +match for you, my dear! War against the field-mice, friend Johnny! Just +what I want. I couldn’t have arranged matters better myself. Now their +houses will be destroyed, and what a harvest for me!” And the old miser +squeaked with joy, as he slipped through the meadow grass, and his long +nose moved viciously about, as it always did when he experienced any +strong emotion. + + + + +[Illustration: “There is no need to tell me, kind friends, said a +trembling little voice; and Bobtilla stood before them.”] + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +SWIFT PUTS BOBTILLA AND THE SQUIRRELS ON THEIR GUARD. + + +Old Rough was not the only listener to the conversation between the +bull-frog and the two young crows. The chimney-swallow Swift, who +at the time was sailing over the meadow, apparently intent only on +securing the finest insects, had heard every word that was said. + +No sooner had the conversation ceased and the party separated, than the +swallow with a few strong strokes of his long wings soared high above +the meadow, until he looked like a little black speck. Soon, however, +the black speck seemed to remain stationary, and then it grew larger +and larger, as it rapidly descended, and alighting on the wall where +the chipmunks dwelt, sat pluming its glossy feathers in a very skilful +manner. + +So engrossed was the swallow in his occupation that he appeared to be +unconscious of everything that went on about him. Even the loud cawing +of the two young crows, who alighted on a neighboring tree, did not +take his attention from his task, and he was evidently unaware of the +presence of the little chipmunk Squirrello, who first peeped timidly +out of his hole, and after a careful survey of the country, grew +bolder, and seated himself on top of the wall. + +Little Bobtilla, too, from her house under the large stone, peeped +out with her bright eyes, thinking it more prudent to remain in her +doorway; the swallow, however, did not notice her any more than he did +the squirrel, and continued to sit on the tree, picking apart his thick +feathers. Before long the young crows flew away, and no sooner were +they fairly out of sight than the swallow abruptly finished his toilet, +and flew upon the top of the wall in front of Squirrello. + +“I recognized you at once, Swift,” said Squirrello; “but I thought +by your manner that you didn’t wish to have me notice you, so I kept +still.” + +“And quite right you were,” replied Swift. “The truth is that I have +news of importance, and didn’t want those mischievous crows to hear +it.” + +Squirrello came nearer to the swallow, and awaited with anxiety the +news he had to tell. Little Bobtilla, from her doorway under the +large stone, inclined one ear toward the swallow, and listened with +breathless interest. + +“Just now,” began Swift, “I observed those two young crows who have +just gone sitting very still on a tree that grows just behind old +Rough’s den. They are always so noisy and restless that I knew their +unusual silence meant mischief, so I resolved to keep about and find +out what it meant. They hadn’t the least suspicion that I was watching +them, for I took care to keep at a safe distance. + +“Before long I saw Johnny the basso hopping along, and he stopped under +that very tree. Old Rough crept slyly after him, and hid where he could +overhear every word that was said. As soon as Johnny found sufficient +breath to speak, he reproached the crows for having played a trick on +him. I lost some of the conversation, not daring to venture too near; +but I gathered that the crows had tried to pass the Widow O’Warty off +for some one else. Before long old Rough came forward, and threw the +whole blame on little Bobtilla, and the crows acknowledged that it was +she who had given them their information. Whereupon Johnny, who prides +himself on his gallantry to the fair sex, said that since a lady was +to blame, he couldn’t call her to account, but that he would make the +whole race of field-mice responsible, and declared war upon the spot. +This seemed to please old Rough greatly, for he went off chuckling and +muttering to himself.” + +Poor little Bobtilla’s state of mind, as she heard these words, can +be better imagined than described. She had, since her removal to +the neighborhood of the chipmunks, begun to know what peace of mind +was; and now all at once her hopes were shattered, and she felt that +in no place would she be secure from the wrath of old Rough, which +pursued her, go where she would. Shaking with fear, she remained in her +doorway, too agitated to move or speak. + +“What an outrage!” exclaimed Squirrello, as the swallow finished +his recital. “Why, Bobtilla is the meekest and most amiable of +creatures,--she wouldn’t harm a fly,--and I know she never spoke a word +to either of those mischievous crows. It is a trick of old Rough, to +spite poor little Bobtilla.” + +“What is a trick of old Rough; and what has Bobtilla, of all creatures, +to do with it?” asked Squirrella, who had heard her husband’s indignant +tones, and now appeared on the wall beside him, to learn the cause of +the excitement. + +The story was told over again to Squirrella, and her indignation was +even greater than her husband’s. + +“I never heard anything so mean in all my life!” exclaimed the +kind-hearted Squirrella. “I should think that poor little creature had +suffered enough at old Rough’s hands, without this new persecution. +However, I don’t see what old Rough will gain from a war between the +mice and frogs; he will not fight himself.” + +“He evidently considers it for his advantage,” answered the swallow, +“for he went off in fine spirits. If the frogs are victorious, they +will certainly destroy every mouse-hole in the meadow and woods; and +it’s my private opinion that old Rough will slink around during the +battle, and steal everything he can lay his paws on.” + +“Fortunately we are out of the way,” said Squirrello. + +“I’m not so sure about that,” replied Swift. “I wouldn’t risk it. If +I were you, I’d be on the safe side, and move farther into the woods, +and make your home more secure. Bobtilla, too, must move, for old Rough +would be sure to visit her house first of all.” + +“Dear me!” sighed Squirrella, “here we are, so comfortably settled for +life I thought, and now we must move again. I don’t see how I can have +the patience to go through it all again. I have heard that three moves +are equal to a fire; I should say that two were equal to an earthquake.” + +“I don’t very well see what else can be done, my dear,” replied her +husband. “You are the last one, such an anxious mother as you are, to +feel secure while war is raging around you.” + +“Yes, I suppose there is nothing else to be done,” sighed Squirrella. + +“After we have moved, and are settled in our new home, I am sure you +will think yourself much better off, and wish you had chosen the place +before,” said Squirrello, who always looked on the bright side of +affairs. + +“I forgot all about Bobtilla,” exclaimed Squirrella. “Poor thing, she +thought herself so safe here,--how can I tell her the bad news?” + +“There is no need to tell me, kind friends,” said a trembling little +voice; and Bobtilla stood before them. “I have heard all, and also your +kind plans for my safety, and I can truly say that I do not feel so +badly about myself as I do to think that out of your kindness to me, +you must have the trouble of moving again.” + +“Nonsense!” answered Squirrella, briskly; “what have you to do with it? +Do you suppose I want to live on the battle-field, as you may say? No, +indeed; I prefer to move away where I shall not have fighting going on +before my eyes.” + +“I know very well,” persisted Bobtilla, “that I am the cause of all +this trouble, for old Rough will not let me rest as long as I have a +home to live in; and he will persecute all those who are kind to me. I +know him so well that I feel sure he has done me this ill turn because +I have found new and influential friends to protect me.” + +“Well, after all, it doesn’t matter,” replied Squirrella, cheerfully. +“The woods are quieter, and the air is purer there, and I am sure we +shall be better off. So let’s decide on a spot; and the sooner we start +about it the better.” + +“I have a place in my mind,” said the swallow, “and if one of you will +come with me, you can see what you think about it.” + +Squirrello decided to accompany the swallow, and both set off,--the +squirrel running along the highest boughs and jumping lightly from one +tree to another, while little Swift soared high above him, often flying +far out of sight, but always returning to point out the way. + +At last the swallow stopped before a stately old oak-tree, whose +sturdy branches were nearly bare of leaves, but whose topmost boughs +were still clad with green leaves, as reminders that some vitality yet +remained to the aged tree. The sturdy roots, that had resisted many a +tempest, protruded above the soft turf, and seemed so formed purposely, +that they might serve as homes for little animals in search of a +dwelling-place. + +“There,” said the swallow, pointing out the spot, “there is a house +already built for you; and all you have to do is to make it soft and +comfortable for your family.” + +Nothing could be more desirable for a dwelling, and Squirrello returned +to his little wife, and related to her what he had found. Both +together visited the new home, and Squirrella was, if possible, even +more pleased with the place than her husband had been, her motherly +instincts at once divining that no place in the whole world could be +so well suited for a young family like hers. The protecting roots of +the old tree made it safe against the depredations of enemies, and the +long, strong branches were just right for her children to run about +on,--so much better and safer for them than running along the stone +wall in sight of the whole world. Also under the roots of the old tree +was a hole that looked as if it were made expressly for Bobtilla and +her young family. + +Thus the happy couple discussed their plans, and at once busied +themselves in collecting soft, dry moss, and carrying it into their new +house. Squirrella was so delighted with the appearance of the bed her +children were to have, that she lay down in it, to see if it were as +comfortable as it looked; and she declared that it surpassed her most +sanguine expectations, and that it was utterly impossible for any bed +in the universe to be as comfortable as her children’s was. + +Then Bobtilla was brought to see the place, and the timid little +creature was greatly pleased with it, and felt that in that peaceful +wilderness she might be freed from the persecutions of old Rough. Poor +little Bobtilla! she was fast experiencing that the strong prey on the +weak in the struggle for life! + +The little field-mouse, also, went to work, like the conscientious +mouse she was, and dug out her house as far as she could under the +roots of the old tree, and then made it soft and warm for her family. +When this was done, at the suggestion of her friends the squirrels she +skilfully concealed the entrance with moss, leaving only an opening +large enough to squeeze her little body through. + +The squirrels viewed Bobtilla’s work with great satisfaction, and +concluded that even old Rough, shrewd as he was, could never detect it +as the abode of a family; and, indeed, all three agreed in thinking +that no living creatures had ever been so fortunate in securing such +choice locations and in making such comfortable homes. + +Then the squirrel family and the mouse family were removed to their new +quarters, and all was peace and contentment once more. + +While these new homes were being prepared, the news of the impending +war was spreading rapidly over the adjoining meadows and fields, and +soon all knew the fact that the frogs had declared war against the +field-mice. Everywhere, in the meadows and fields, groups of field-mice +were collected, discussing the exciting news; and every evening on the +borders of the ditch, and on the edges of the bog, frogs of all sizes +and ages were heard croaking over the same topic. + +Among all the animals, old Rough the water-rat was the one who seemed +to derive the most satisfaction from the prospect of war. He fairly +gloated over the thought that the dwellings of the field-mice would be +destroyed, and he should reap the benefit of the stock of provisions +that the industrious little creatures had collected with so much pains. + +More agreeable even than this was the thought that when the war was +ended, and their homes and property destroyed, the field-mice would +come to him to trade for provisions, and then he could make his own +terms. + +Dwelling on these pleasant themes, old Rough remembered Bobtilla, and +he felt happier still as he reflected on the misery in store for her. +So pleasant was it to imagine what her sufferings would be, that he +resolved to make her a call, and witness her despair as he recounted to +her the misery in store for her. Thus elated by this generous resolve, +the old miser set briskly off for Bobtilla’s abode, and in due time +found himself before her door. Not hearing any signs of life, he called +aloud,-- + +“Bobtilla!” + +Not a sound was heard in response, and old Rough wondered at this, +for the tones of his harsh voice had never before failed to bring the +little field-mouse trembling before him. Once more he called, and more +loudly; but all was silent, and he walked up to the house and looked in. + +All was so still inside that the old miser was convinced that the +house was empty, and he fell into a great rage as he realized that his +victim had escaped. In his ungovernable passion he tore away the earth +from before the entrance to the former dwelling of the field-mouse, +and his strong paws soon disclosed the vacated home. Not a vestige of +Bobtilla’s family remained, save the bed of leaves and moss where they +had so lately reposed. + +“Won’t I make you speak though, my lady!” exclaimed the old water-rat, +savagely. + +“You must find her first, my friend,” said a voice from above the wall. + + + + +[Illustration: “So intent were they on their sport, that they did not +perceive two young crows who perched on the very tree at whose roots +they lived.”] + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE CROWS PLAN A SURPRISE FOR OLD ROUGH. + + +Old Rough glanced fiercely in the direction of the speaker’s voice, and +beheld, seated unconcernedly on a tree, the chimney-swallow, Swift. + +“I intend to find her, sir,” answered old Rough, viciously, his nose +moving about rapidly in his excitement. “I can assure you it is not so +easy to escape me as you imagine.” + +“How much will you bet that you find Bobtilla within a week?” asked the +swallow. + +“I will find her within three days,” replied old Rough, savagely; “and +let me tell you that her friends who interest themselves in her welfare +had better look out!” and old Rough went toward the dwelling lately +inhabited by the little chipmunks. In vain the old water-rat peeped +into the hole, and glanced sharply around him,--not a trace of the +chipmunk family was to be found. + +“You’ll have to leave your card; they’re evidently not at home,” said +the swallow, coolly, as the old water-rat looked about him wrathfully. + +“I’ll thank you to mind your own business, sir,” responded old Rough. +“If I thought you were at the bottom of all this, I’d--” he stopped, +with a vicious snap of his teeth. + +“You’d what?” asked the swallow, calmly. + +“I’d take care that you never repeated the trick,” said old Rough. +“Now that I think of it, I believe you are the swallow that was flying +about pretending to catch insects, when my friends and I were talking +together. Eavesdropper!” + +“Yes, I am the very one, just as you are the water-rat that was +squatting down behind the big stone, you know, to overhear what the +crows and Johnny the basso were talking about.” + +“And you gave warning to Bobtilla, and advised her to move!” said old +Rough, ignoring entirely the allusion to his own eavesdropping. + +“Just so,” replied the swallow, calmly; “I not only advised Bobtilla +and the squirrels to move, but I selected a spot for them where you’ll +never find them if you hunt till you’re blind.” + +“I shall find them before three days have passed,” asserted the +water-rat. “I have influence sufficient to discover them if they are on +the face of the earth, and I can assure you that my revenge will be all +the sweeter for having to wait.” + +“Yes, if time adds to the pleasure of revenge, yours will have a chance +to grow considerably.” + +“And I shall not forget the little favor you have done me in trying to +frustrate my plans,” snarled the old rat. + +“Don’t mention it; you are quite welcome,” responded the swallow, with +great good-humor, as he rose into the air and soared out of sight. + +Old Rough remained quite still for awhile, thinking over the best +course to pursue to recover Bobtilla, and he concluded he could not do +it without some help. To whom should he apply? Old Blinkeye was the +first who came to his mind as the most likely to find them out; but he +was out of the question, for if the fierce owl discovered Bobtilla and +the squirrels, he would most surely keep them for himself, such tender +morsels as they would make. + +Next the two young crows came into the water-rat’s mind; but how could +he trust such unreliable fellows? To be sure, it would take cleverer +young fellows than they to dupe the wary old water-rat, but still he +didn’t dare trust them. + +How about old Caw? Old as he was, his one eye could see farther than +any other pair, and the old thief would do anything that paid well. The +longer the miser considered the matter, the more convinced he became +that old Caw was the one to do the business for him. + +All the while the water-rat had been forming this plan, if little +Bobtilla or the squirrels had seen him, they might well have trembled +for their safety, for a most unpleasant spectacle he presented, as he +sat on his haunches, his small sharp eyes gleaming with malice, and his +long nose moving incessantly. + +Having come to the conclusion that old Caw was the one to help him out +of his difficulty, the old water-rat lost no time in seeking him. The +old crow was at home; indeed he seldom ventured away from it, except in +search of food, and then he usually made solitary expeditions into the +woods, where he detected appetizing morsels that the younger crows had +not discovered. Favorite haunts he frequented, where he unearthed the +delicate tidbits he had secreted, and many a sumptuous repast he made +on some particularly dainty bit his young grandsons had buried for +their own especial food. + +To-day, however, the old crow was at home, and sitting on his favorite +perch, his one eye closed, and his head sunk between his high +shoulders. He was apparently unaware of the water-rat’s approach, and +old Rough contemplated him for awhile in silence. + +“The old thief is as wide awake as I am,” said old Rough to himself, as +he watched the slumbering crow. “He is looking at me out of one corner +of his sharp old eye, and pretends to be asleep.--Hallo, friend Caw!” +he called out, when he had grown tired of waiting. + +The old crow languidly opened his one eye half way, and glanced about +in a direction opposite from where the water-rat was stationed; then he +drowsily closed it again, and continued his nap. + +“Hallo, old Caw, I say!” called out the water-rat again, somewhat +louder. + +“What say?” slowly demanded old Caw, again opening his eye, and +inclining one ear toward his visitor. + +“Something new for the old fellow to be deaf,” muttered the old miser +to himself. “Hallo! I said,” he shouted, as the old crow showed +symptoms of relapsing into another nap. “Can’t you keep awake long +enough to hear what I have to say? I’ll make it for your interest.” + +At these words, the old crow’s drowsiness and deafness disappeared +together, and he assumed an attentive attitude, while the old water-rat +began his story. + +“I came to ask you to discover the hiding-places of a certain +field-mouse, one Bobtilla by name, and a pair of chipmunks who have +gone off with her. If you’ll find out where they are, I’ll pay you well +for it.” + +“What’ll you give?” asked the old crow, shrewdly, with his head on one +side, and his half-closed eye on the rat. + +“I’ll put you in the way of getting a fine sheep’s pluck,” replied old +Rough. + +“Yes, I know farmer Smith has just killed a sheep,” answered old Caw, +quietly. + +“But you don’t know where the best part of the pluck is, the tender +liver, that melts in your mouth,” added the water-rat. + +The old crow in answer gave a short caw expressive of indifference, +and then began to show symptoms of a return to the drowsy condition in +which the old rat had found him. + +“Will you trade, or not?” asked old Rough. + +“That depends upon how much you’re willing to give. I can’t say I’m +hankering after the job,” answered old Caw. + +“I’ve just told you what I’ll give,” said old Rough, impatiently,--“a +rich sheep’s liver, that when it’s been buried a couple of weeks will +fairly make your mouth water.” + +“Not half enough,” replied Caw, calmly. “On the whole, I don’t think I +care to undertake the job.” + +“What job?” called out a voice; “if it’s a paying one, I’m your crow,” +and the two young crows alighted on the tree beside their grandfather. + +Having failed with the old crow, the water-rat found there was nothing +to be done but to avail himself of the assistance of the younger +crows; and after much haggling on both sides, the young crows decided +to undertake the job, provided the old miser would give them the +sheep’s liver and a fine piece of pork-rind which they knew him to +possess. Having thus concluded the bargain, the old water-rat departed, +well-satisfied with his morning’s work, and confident that he would +shortly have Bobtilla and the chipmunks in his power. + +When he was well out of sight and hearing, old Caw addressed his +grandsons thus,-- + +“What induced you to undertake this thing?” + +“Why, the sheep’s liver and pork-rind, of course,” they replied. + +“When do you expect to get possession of them?” asked old Caw. + +“When we’ve found out where the field-mouse and squirrels are, of +course,” replied his elder grandson. + +“There’s no _of course_ about it,” quietly answered old Caw. “Don’t you +know the miser never pays his debts?” + +The young crows looked rather sheepish at this, but assured their +grandfather that they would find a way to be even with the old miser if +he didn’t pay up. + +“I advise you to be cautious how you play any tricks on the old +fellow,” said old Caw, “for he’s sharper than you are. Don’t you +suppose _I_’d have undertaken the job if I had thought it would pay?” + +“What would you advise us to do about it?” asked the younger grandson. + +“Well, since it’s in the family, I don’t mind giving you some advice,” +replied the old crow. “Pretend you have found the places he wants, and +then when he has gone there, go and help yourselves to the sheep’s +liver and pork-rind. That’s the surest way I know of.” + +Having imparted this valuable information, old Caw was soon asleep +in earnest, and his two grandsons sat whispering over their plans. +Whatever conclusion they arrived at was evidently very satisfactory, +for they chuckled gleefully over it. + +All this time, the objects of this wicked plotting were safe in their +new homes, enjoying the pure air of the forest, and sporting among +the trees and over the soft turf, never dreaming but that this state +of security would last forever. Occasionally a bird passed over the +tree at whose foot they were hidden, or stopped to rest on one of its +branches, but no one offered to molest them. + +One day, Bobtilla was out in search of food for her family, and the +squirrels were absent on the same errand. Their young families were +left at home by themselves, with instructions not to leave their homes. + +The day was fine, and all was so quiet in the woods that it was hard +for these active young creatures to remain cramped in their small +quarters. One of Bobtilla’s children ventured timidly to the door, and +peeped cautiously out. At the same moment he appeared at the opening, +his bright little eyes fell on one of the squirrel’s children, who was +likewise tempted to obtain a breath of fresh air. + +After a short conversation, they were joined by their brothers and +sisters. A consultation ensued, in which they agreed that it was +positively injurious to the health of all to remain longer in such +close quarters, and that a little exercise in the pure air would be to +their advantage, and the very thing their parents would desire for them +under the circumstances. + +Having arrived at this wise conclusion, the little field-mice and their +squirrel neighbors ventured out of their dark homes, and were soon +frisking about in the liveliest manner,--the squirrels racing over the +trees and stumps, and the little mice running about below. So intent +were they on their sport, that they did not perceive two young crows, +who perched on the very tree at whose roots they lived. + +“Hallo!” called out the crows, and at the sudden sound they all +scampered into their holes. + +“Perhaps we can find out something from them,” said the crows to each +other; and they remained silently on the tree. + +Before long one of the young squirrels, more venturesome than the rest, +became emboldened to peep out of his house, and beheld the two young +crows quietly seated on the tree. + +“What’s the trouble, sonny?” asked one of the crows; “we will not hurt +you. Come out, and finish your game.” + +A whispered conversation followed inside the squirrel house, and at +last they all ventured out again, and sat in a row on their little +haunches, looking up curiously at their black visitors. + +“We are alone, and our mother told us to stay in the house,” remarked +the squirrel who had first ventured out. + +“You mind well,” said the elder crow; “shows you’ve been well brought +up.” + +“You see we have not been out since we moved,” continued the squirrel, +who became communicative as soon as he found the newcomers were kindly +disposed; “and we were tired of staying in that dark hole. It’s awfully +hard to be so cramped up, you know.” + +“I should think so,” replied the crow. “Why don’t your friends come out +again?” Then he added in a low tone to his brother, “He says they have +moved,--you may be sure it’s the ones we’re looking for.” + +“They are very timid,” replied the squirrel; “and Bobtilla told them if +they went out, old Rough would be sure to catch them.” + +“So they are Bobtilla’s children, are they?” + +“Yes,” replied the squirrel. + +“Well, go on with your play,” said the crows, and away they flew, +having gained all the information they wanted, without the slightest +effort on their part. + +“Now for old Rough. We’ll find him and direct him to the right spot. +Won’t he be surprised, though?” said the younger crow; and the thought +of what they were about to do afforded them such delight that their +loud laughter caused them to fly in a very disorderly manner, bumping +against each other, and conducting themselves very riotously. + + + + +[Illustration: “The numerous barns and sheds, well stocked with horses +and cattle, gave evidence of the prosperity of the owner.”] + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +OLD ROUGH IN DANGER. + + +The next day, the two young crows started out at an early hour, and +continued their flight until they approached a large farm, situated +far back from the road. The numerous barns and sheds, well stocked +with horses and cattle, gave evidence of the prosperity of the owner. +Casting their sharp eyes about, the two crows selected a large +chestnut-tree that grew in the rear of the buildings, whose dense +foliage promised a safe hiding-place whence they could see without +being seen. + +Among the topmost branches of this tree the crows perched, and their +restless eyes wandered over the landscape in all directions. They did +not lose sight, however, of everything that occurred on the farm. +Evidently something of interest was about to take place, for the crows +were very uneasy. For a short time they would sit looking about them in +silence, when all at once one of them would give a sudden caw, which +the other immediately answered, and then both cawed together excitedly. + +A large hen-house stood near by, and toward this the attention of +the restless crows was often directed. The hens, too, were collected +in groups in the hen-yard, and incessantly cackling, the feathers +about their necks bristling with excitement, as if some danger were +impending. Whatever it was that gave them such uneasiness must in some +way have been connected with the hen-house itself, for the disturbed +hens cast frequent glances under the building, as if some enemy were +concealed there. + +The crows, too, looked frequently in the same direction, as if they +expected something to occur in that quarter. + +At last one of the crows, glancing across the field, gave a sudden caw, +and his companion answered at once. Both evidently talked it over, then +suddenly became silent, their eyes fixed intently on a dark object +moving cautiously along the border of the stream. It was the same +sluggish stream that flowed by the abode of old Rough, and the dark +object approaching was no other than the old miser himself. + +Old Rough proceeded very cautiously as he approached the farm building. +Often he paused, and sitting on his haunches, looked anxiously about, +as if he were in a locality with which he was not familiar, and where +he must be on the alert. As he sat up to take these observations, his +sharp eyes glanced suspiciously about, and his long nose twitched +nervously. Satisfied that all was safe, he resumed his journey in the +same cautious manner, taking care to keep on the edge of the stream, as +if to take refuge there in case of a surprise. + +When opposite the out-buildings of the farm, he left the stream, and +proceeded in the same wary manner in the direction of the hen-house. + +When the two young crows, who had watched the old water-rat’s movements +with such interest, saw him approaching the hen-house, they quietly +left their hiding-place, and flew off with as little noise as possible, +as if to escape the old miser’s notice. + +At first the two crows flew toward the woods, and were soon lost among +the thick forest trees; but when out of sight of the farm, they struck +out in the direction whence old Rough had appeared, and before long +found themselves in the neighborhood of the old water-rat’s dwelling. + +Evidently the plans of the young crows were arranged between them, for +one of them alighted on the tall tree that grew near by, while the +other at once proceeded to the old rat’s home. After delivering himself +of several caws of derision, he recited the following verse:-- + + “There was once a crabbed old miser, + Who thought no one could be wiser; + But his wife once he told, + By two crows he’d been sold, + Which didn’t seem much to surprise her.” + +No sooner had the crow ended than his words had the desired effect +of bringing Ruffina to the door, her long nose fairly quivering with +excitement, and her eyes glaring angrily on the impudent young crow. + +“Be off, you impertinent fellow!” squeaked Ruffina, angrily; “you shall +pay for this when my husband returns!” + +“Pray don’t tell him,” replied the crow, pretending to shake with fear; +“he might hurt us, you know.” + +“You deserve to have your neck wrung!” retorted Ruffina; “and if Rough +doesn’t do it, _I_ will.” + +The only response from the crow was a burst of laughter, that, as he +fully intended it should, exasperated the old rat more than anything he +could have done. + +At this fresh insult, Ruffina lost the small remnant of self-control +she possessed, and charged on the crow, who walked rapidly off, +pursued by the enraged water-rat. + +No sooner had Ruffina left her dwelling than the crow who had remained +on the tree flew quickly down and disappeared inside the old miser’s +abode. + +All this time Ruffina was pursuing the other crow, who walked and flew +along the ground, allowing himself to be nearly caught, and then, with +a few flaps of his strong wings, easily keeping out of the way. + +It was an easy matter for the active young crow to elude the grasp +of the old water-rat; and exceedingly exasperating for her was it to +feel him at one moment within reach of her paw, and the next, to see +him, with a single stroke of his wings, pass beyond her reach. This +game was continued until the crow saw his brother emerge from the old +miser’s dwelling, with a fine piece of pork-rind in his bill. As soon +as he saw this, he flew upon a large stone, and flapping his wings +triumphantly, cawed out,-- + +“Pray give our regards to the old gentleman, and tell him we thought +we’d save him the trouble of bringing the pork-rind to us, so we came +for it ourselves.” With these words he rejoined his brother, and both +flew off to the woods, to enjoy in privacy the prize they had obtained +so easily. + +We will leave the young crows perched on a tree in the midst of the +woods, quarrelling over their ill-gotten treasure, and follow the +fortunes of old Rough. + +We left the old miser at the moment when he had quitted the border of +the stream, and had started in the direction of the farm-buildings. +Directly toward the hen-house the water-rat made his way, stopping more +frequently as he neared it, looking anxiously about him, and evidently +prepared to run back at a moment’s notice. + +As old Rough neared the building, the timid hens retreated to the +extreme end of their yard, their necks stretched to their fullest +extent, their feathers ruffled with excitement, and constantly uttering +cries of terror. + +When he reached the hen-house yard, the water-rat stood on his hind +legs, and resting his forepaws on the ledge of the building, gazed +at the terrified creatures within with a gratified expression on his +wicked old features. At this horrible apparition, the poor hens became +still more frightened, and gave vent to their alarm in loud and shrill +screams. + +“Not to-day, my friends,--I have another engagement; but I will visit +you later,” said the old rat, with an unpleasant leer on his ugly +features; and dropping to the ground, he proceeded to the hen-house +itself, and paused before it. + +“’Twas very fortunate for me that the crows, in their stupidity, told +me where Bobtilla had moved, for I should never have thought of looking +here for her. Stupid fellows, those crows! they don’t know old Rough +very well, or they wouldn’t have expected to get the sheep’s pluck and +pork-rind. Very shrewd in Bobtilla to choose this place. She never +thought of it herself, that is certain; those smart squirrels must have +put her up to it.” + +The old miser peered cautiously about the foundation of the hen-house. +It was built of large stones loosely fitted together, which served as +a support for the wooden structure. After a careful survey, old Rough +discovered what was evidently a mouse-hole, and he looked cautiously +in. Nothing could he see or hear, and he scraped the earth away, in +order to enlarge the opening. He found nothing inside, however, but a +mouse-nest that had been long deserted; so he continued his search. + +Nothing could the old rat discover that resembled the place the crows +had described as Bobtilla’s new residence. At last, when he was +becoming convinced that this must have been a trick of the mischievous +crows to mislead him, he observed what seemed to be a rat-hole in one +corner of the wall. + +“Why didn’t I see that before?” said old Rough to himself; “they said +she had taken possession of an empty rat-hole, and just like the +shiftless creature, too, it is. However, she shall pay for keeping me +waiting so long;” and very cautiously the old miser approached the +entrance and looked in. + +“I could probably squeeze myself in,” thought old Rough, “but it would +be rather close quarters for one of my size to turn around in, so I’ll +make her come out.--Bobtilla,” he called sternly, “I have something to +say to you.” + +No response came to his call, and he inclined his ear to the hole. He +could distinctly hear somebody moving about inside, and he smiled at +the thought of the treat in store for him. + +“Bobtilla, I say!” called the old miser again; “will you come out, or +do you prefer to have me come in?” + +No reply came to this second call, except a slight rustling from within. + +“I see you, madam,” called out the old rat, looking into the dark +opening; “I advise you to come out at once, or I shall come and fetch +you. It will be all the same to me, but perhaps not quite so agreeable +to you.” + +In reply, a shrill little voice was heard from within: “Come in! here I +am.” + +Enraged at this insolence, the old water-rat began to dig away the +earth from the entrance to what he supposed was the field-mouse’s +abode; but suddenly he stopped in his work, and gave a shrill squeal +of terror; for instead of the timid little Bobtilla whom he intended +to torture, a slender animal with long, brownish fur came wriggling +fiercely toward him. It was the deadliest enemy of the rat tribe, the +weasel, and never in all his life had old Rough found himself in such a +dangerous situation. + +Casting a terrified glance about him for a refuge, the old water-rat +darted between the stones that formed the foundation of the hen-house, +and found himself in the open space under the floor of the building. + +As he glanced about him in hope of discovering some loop-hole for +escape, old Rough saw the long, flexible body of the weasel wriggling +through the same passage by which he had come, his sharp eyes following +him with an expression of intense ferocity. + +No greater terror could the wicked old water-rat have inspired in poor +timid Bobtilla than that he now felt for the powerful weasel, and for +one single instant old Rough stood irresolute; but the long lithe body +of the weasel was wriggling nearer and nearer, and the water-rat made a +desperate rush for a hole in one corner. He was through in an instant, +and stood panting in a dark passage-way that was, or had once been, +the home of some rat. Several smaller passageways led in different +directions, and old Rough rushed into the one nearest him. Groping his +way blindly, he soon found himself in a large apartment. + +No living creatures were to be seen, but the dry leaves and rags +and paper in one corner evidently had recently served as a bed for +some one; and the old rat shuddered as he descried in one corner the +lifeless body of a mouse, whose life-blood had evidently been recently +drawn. + +The old rat shook with terror as the horrible thought dawned on him +that he had hit upon the abode of the ferocious creature from whom he +was trying to escape. Cruel and contemptible as was the old miser’s +character, he was not lacking in physical courage; and turning his face +toward the various entrances that opened from the cavern, he resolved +to make a bold stand for his life, and awaited breathlessly the +appearance of his enemy, for he knew he would lose no time in following +him. + +Old Rough had not long to wait; but every moment seemed an age as his +sharp eyes glanced from one to another of the several openings. Before +long, his keen ears detected a slight noise, and he knew well what +it meant. The weasel was approaching,--but by which entrance? With a +fast-beating heart, old Rough waited until the gleaming teeth of his +relentless enemy appeared, and then, with all speed, the desperate +water-rat darted into another of the passages. + +Could he have made a mistake, and chosen a passage that had no exit at +the other end? Old Rough began to fear that such was the case, for it +seemed to him, in his agony, as if the darkness grew more dense; and +with horror he perceived that the passage grew more and more narrow, +until he was forced, in places, to dig with all the desperation of +despair a space large enough for his huge body to pass. + +So slow had the old miser’s progress become that he lost much time, +and he realized despairingly that his pursuer was steadily gaining on +him; for the weasel, with his long and flexible body, could easily slip +through crevices too small for the bulky form of the old water-rat. + +Yes, the weasel was gaining on him! The old rat, panting from terror +and prodigious exertions, felt that his enemy was close behind, and +every minute expected to feel those sharp teeth fasten on his back; +but the old miser was resolved to sell his life as dearly as possible, +and making a gigantic effort he tore away a projection of earth +that obstructed his path, and found, to his great relief, that the +passage-way once more grew wide. + + + + +[Illustration: “And the old miser, who now felt that the decisive +moment had arrived, turned and faced his enemy.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE COMBAT. + + +The path was indeed much wider, and the old water-rat took courage, for +he knew from experience that these passageways always grow wide as they +approach the exit. If he could but escape from this subterranean abode, +he felt there was a chance for him, for he could when outside at least +face his enemy and make a fight for his life. + +The weasel was still close behind; but now that the water-rat had once +more a wide passage-way, he could make more progress, and he bounded +rapidly forward. Realizing so fully his dangerous position, his silent +enemy pursuing him relentlessly and surely, not one pang of conscience +smote him for the many times he had put others in the same danger the +weasel now placed him. If he had reflected on the matter at all, he +would have resolved to make others suffer, in the future, what he was +now suffering; for not one ray of pity was in the old miser’s heart. +Self, alone, had always been the one purpose of his life, and always +would be, as long as life remained to him. + +No such reflections, however, disturbed the old water-rat’s mind; his +sole aim was to escape this ferocious enemy, that was so silently +pursuing him. With a bound of his wicked old heart, he descried a faint +ray of light in the distance, and, filled with new courage, redoubled +his efforts. + +His unusual exertion had told heavily on the old water-rat, and in +spite of his efforts the steady progress of the weasel, who was as +fresh as when he started, enabled him to gain on the exhausted rat. As +the latter emerged once more into the open space under the floor of the +hen-house, the weasel was close upon him, and the old miser, who now +felt that the decisive moment had arrived, turned and faced his enemy. + +The deadly contest began in earnest. The weasel was bent on fastening +his long, sharp teeth in the old water-rat’s neck, that he might drain +his blood, and the old rat, with his sharp teeth and strong paws, +endeavored to keep him at bay. + +The old water-rat’s strength was fast giving way, however. Almost +sightless from the weakness that came so fast upon him, and faint from +loss of blood that flowed from the wounds inflicted by the sharp teeth +of his enemy, he knew that a few moments must decide his fate. At last +he realized that the decisive moment had indeed come, as his now feeble +paws could no longer keep back the strong weasel; and as he felt the +last remnant of strength depart, and saw his enemy preparing for his +final grip, squeal after squeal of agony issued from his throat. So +penetrating were they in their shrillness that even the fierce weasel +arrested the final blow, and paused for an instant. + +During this instant a loud clamor arose from the terrified hens +assembled in the corner of the hen-yard, and this was immediately +followed by the loud barking of a little terrier, who at once rushed in +the direction whence the squeals of the water-rat issued, and pushed +his inquisitive nose in between the crevices of the stones, while with +his strong little paws he set to work to enlarge an opening. At the +same instant, too, the voice of the farmer was heard directly behind +the terrier, saying, as he dislodged a large stone: “Go in and find +’em, old boy,--go in and find ’em!” + +Into the breach sprang the excited terrier, and away sped the weasel +back to the same retreat from which he had first emerged; and while +the terrier was scratching and snuffing at the opening, the wounded +water-rat, unnoticed by the eager terrier, managed to drag his +exhausted body to the wall, and emerged on the outside of the hen-house. + +Weary and wounded as the old miser was, he succeeded in reaching a pile +of boards that stood behind the barns, and crawling beneath them threw +himself down on the ground thoroughly exhausted, and lay motionless. If +the weasel could have discovered him now, he might have despatched him +without any resistance on the old rat’s part. + +Long did old Rough lie under the pile of boards, until day lengthened +into twilight, and twilight deepened into night; and then, when all +was still and dark, the old miser arose on his stiff legs and crawled +slowly forth from his hiding-place. Before him lay the stream which had +so often risen to his mind as he lay hot and aching under the pile of +boards, and toward it he now directed his steps,--not with the agility +and alertness with which he had passed over the same ground a few hours +before, but slowly and listlessly, dragging along his aching body. + +At last the soft mud on the bank of the brook was reached, and the +weary old miser slid into the turbid stream, sighing with relief as the +cool water came into contact with his feverish body. + +Refreshing and invigorating was the old water-rat’s native element, +and under its soothing and healing influence he felt a portion of his +old strength gradually coming back to him. At first he floated slowly +along, abandoning himself to the pleasing sensations the cool water +afforded him; by degrees he increased his progress, swimming with ease, +and before long stopped before his own door. Not a feeling of gratitude +or joy at having had his life so mercifully and unexpectedly preserved +did the sordid old miser feel, but he dragged his wounded body into his +den, and with an angry squeak aroused Ruffina from slumber. + +“Dear me, Rough!” exclaimed his wife, who was thus suddenly disturbed +in her dreams, “what a long time you’ve been gone. I thought something +must have happened to you.” + +“Much it would trouble you,” muttered the old rat. “Come, bustle around +and bring me something to eat, for I’m precious weak from loss of +blood.” + +“Good gracious!” squealed Ruffina, “what have you been about? Why, you +are bitten all to pieces. You don’t mean to say those horrid crows did +that?” + +“Stop that noise, and don’t be a fool,--if you can help it. How do you +suppose crows could give me such wounds as these?” + +“Who did, then?” asked his wife, examining the sharp cuts about his +neck and face, from which the blood still oozed. + +“No matter who it was. You just bustle around and bring me some of that +pork-rind I brought home the other day,--that will set me up quicker +than anything else.” + +“There isn’t any,” answered Ruffina, in a faint voice. + +“What!” snarled the old miser. “No pork? What do you mean?” + +“It’s been stolen,” explained his wife, trembling under her lord’s +angry glances; “but I couldn’t help it. _I_ wasn’t to blame.” + +“You’ve eaten it up, you thief!” cried the old miser, in a rage. “How +dared you, when I told you not so much as to look at it?” + +“Indeed, I didn’t touch it,” explained his wife, timidly; “I put it +away in one corner, for fear I might be tempted to taste it; but he +found it and carried it off.” + +“_He?_ Whom do you mean by _he_, you exasperating idiot? Why can’t you +explain yourself properly? You are at no loss for words when you ought +to keep still.” + +Thus adjured, Ruffina related the visit of the two young crows, and +explained how one had enticed her away from the house, while the other +entered it and stole the pork-rind, and she ended by repeating the +verse the crow had addressed to her. + +His wife’s account of the theft seemed sufficiently plausible to the +miser, and he now realized the extent of the young crows’ treachery. +That they had purposely led him to the weasel’s abode, thinking he +would never return thence, he did not for a moment doubt, and he +resolved to inflict sure and summary vengeance upon them in return. + +Long after his wife was sleeping soundly, did the old water-rat lie +awake, concocting plans to carry out his revenge, not only on the +impudent young crows, but also on the defenceless Bobtilla and the +officious chipmunks who had interfered in his plans. After long +thought, a scheme occurred to him which made him smile grimly to +himself, and mutter,--“It may be long before I can accomplish it, but I +will bide my time.” + +This thought was so gratifying that the old water-rat at once betook +himself to bed, and soon fell into a deep and refreshing slumber. + +We will leave old Rough to enjoy his much needed rest, and follow the +adventures of other friends. + +The Widow O’Warty was quite disconcerted for a time at the trick played +upon her by the saucy crows; but she was too good-natured to bear +resentment long, and soon laughed at the recollection of the event. + +“It’s meself that injoyed the pleasure of a serenade that was intinded +for another,” she said to herself; “an’ afther all, there’s no harrm +done. It’s a rale gintleman is Johnny the basso, an’ a foine singer, +an’ it’s pl’ased I should account meself to continue his acquaintance.” + +So a few days later, when the widow met the basso in the meadow, she +accosted him graciously. + +“It’s pl’ased I am to see ye; an’ it’s proud I should account meself to +see you at me reciption the evening,” said the smiling widow. + +“You do me great honor, Madame La Warty,” replied the basso, +courteously; “at what hour will Madame permit me to visit her?” + +“Whin the jew is on the grass and the moon is up,” said the widow, “the +company will assimble forninst me dwilling. Is it the swate singer +Signor Trillo ye have mit?” + +“No, I have not had the _plaisir_ to meet him,” answered the basso, +somewhat haughtily; for the name suggested a possible rival. + +“Is that the troot?” asked the widow. “It’s surprised I am to hear the +same. The gintleman houlds a high station in his own counthry; indade, +I’m tould he’s nixt removed from the king. It’s many the reciptions an’ +kittle-dhrums an’ shmoketalks the ‘tin million’ have given him, an’ +indade it’s surprised I am yees have niver mit. Two such swate singers +should become known to each ither, an’ it’s meself that will have the +pl’isure of introjucing yees. It’s foine the v’ices of yees will blind +togither, for it’s a swate tenor the signor possesses.” + +“I do not wish to sing wiz zee tenor, Madame La Warty,” replied the +basso, excitedly. “I ’ate ze tenor voice. He squeal, he know not what +musique is. Zee great basso-profundo will not sing wiz your tenor, +Madame.” + +“Oh, no! you are mistaken,” answered the widow, good-naturedly; “the +signor does not squeal; it is a full rich v’ice himself has,--not sich +a foine v’ice as yourself, to be sure,” added the widow, quickly, who +saw the effect of her injudicious praise of the tenor, and who wished +to retain the favor of the sensitive basso, “but a swate v’ice for a +_tenor_, av coorse, I m’ane.” + +The feeling of jealousy that had taken possession of the basso’s breast +during the widow’s praise of the tenor, made his throat swell and +vibrate with the strength of the emotion that raged within him; but the +effect of her last words caused the tumult within him to subside, and +with an effort he regained his usual composure. + +“I sail have zee _honneur_ to wait on Madame La Warty zis evening,” +replied the basso, politely. “I will make my adieu to Madame if she +will permit, as I have an appointment to meet.” + +“Who is zis tenor, zis Signor Trillo?” said the basso to himself. “I +do not believe zat he is one great noble. I do not believe zat he can +sing; but I will see him,--I will laugh at zis tenor when he goes to +sing! I, zee great basso-profundo, will sing so loud zat zey sail not +hear one tone from zis squealing pig.” + + + + +[Illustration: “The Widow O’Warty’s reception.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE WIDOW O’WARTY’S RECEPTION. + + +The hour for the Widow O’Warty’s reception was approaching, and +everything seemed favorable for a happy evening. The sun disappeared in +the west, and the golden and red-tinted clouds reflected his parting +rays. These deepened into a violet hue, as twilight stole gradually +on, and then a soft gray light fell over all. + +This is the hour dear to all the little animals that inhabit the woods +and fields. They seem to fear the brilliant daylight, and their timid +natures grow bolder as night steals on. + +At this hour the cheerful crickets sing out more cheerfully and boldly, +the shy tree-toads pipe their shrill song, and from every ditch and +pond arise the melancholy tones of the emotional frog, the far-reaching +tenor and the resounding bass. + +In the depths of the wood rings out more often the cheerful chirrup of +the shy squirrel; the hedge-hog squeaks, and the little mice scurry +along the ground. All of these sounds were heard on the evening of the +Widow O’Warty’s reception, and as night came on these voices increased. + +Then, when the twilight disappeared and all grew dark, out came the +fireflies, floating over the meadow, and often soaring over the +tallest trees, every motion of their gauzy wings displaying the +brilliant strips of greenish light on their little bodies. + +The glow-worms, too, wriggled their shining bodies through the grass, +doing their best to light on their way the Widow O’Warty’s guests. + +The hostess herself sat in front of her dwelling, her affable +countenance wreathed in smiles, as she welcomed each guest. A +lawn-party it must be, for the widow’s house was too dark and cramped +to contain the hosts of friends her hospitality included. + +Johnny the basso was one of the first to arrive, and, as he sat beside +the hostess, she found time, between the arrivals, to acquaint him with +the characters of her guests. + +“It’s a furriner ye are, an’ it’s meself that will acquaint ye wid the +ways of me fri’nds,” she explained. + +A light green katydid, accompanied by her pale and delicate looking +son, were seen approaching. + +“Sure, an’ if me two eyes do not dec’ave me, that swate cratur Katrina +Diddo an’ her remarkable son are appearing to me view. Good evening, +Ma’arm,” continued the hostess, as the two approached. “It’s proud I +account meself to rec’ave yees.” + +“Thanks,” murmured the katydid, with her head poised on one side, +and her full eyes gazing with a rapt expression far over the Widow +O’Warty’s head into vacancy. “How extremely kind of you to draw us out +this marvellous evening, when each slender blade of grass and each tiny +leaflet is bathed in translucent dew, and the spirit of inspiration +hovers above us, earth creatures as we are;” and the speaker heaved a +sigh as she closed her eyes dreamily. + +“It’s _intinse_ Katrina is,” whispered the widow to the basso; “an’ +how is the swate b’y, ma’am,” she added, to the poetic katydid, whose +dreamy eyes still looked far away into space. + +“Well, my dear Widow. Excelsior is as well as one can be, who hears +the voice of genius forever calling him to higher things, and to +deeds where we, poor earth-worms as we are, cannot follow him,--that +ceaseless call, as the ocean beats his great heart out against a giant +wall. Ah me! what is life!” + +“Ye may well remark it,” answered the widow; “it’s a mystery, is life, +an’ that’s the troot.” + +“You know it? You feel it too?” exclaimed Katrina, with a sudden burst +of intensity. “Oh! the crushing weight of that thought to a soaring +human soul!” + +With a deep sigh the poetess passed on, followed closely by her +talented son. + +“Zis grande poetess, I perceive she have one foreign name; I taught +she was American,” remarked the basso, as the pair disappeared. + +“It’s American hersilf is,” replied the widow, confidentially, “an’ +it’s Katy Did her name is; but whin it’s famous she became, she changed +the name of her, Katy did, as was r’asonable. It’s one of the ‘tin +million’ Katy is,” added the widow, in a whisper. + +The poetess’s son, Excelsior, had not spoken a word, but had gazed +about him in an abstracted manner during the conversation between his +mother and the Widow O’Warty, not evincing by a look or sign that he +had understood the conversation. + +“What’s zee matter wiz zat _garçon_?” asked the basso, who had been a +silent observer. + +“Ye may will ask fwhat’s the matter wid the gossoon; an’ it’s mesilf +that’s not able to acquaint you wid his complaint,” replied the widow; +“but I suspicion that it’s on account of the head of him being too +large for the body of him.” + +“What does he do, this _spirituel garçon_? Does he make poetry like his +talented mamma?” + +“Indade an’ he does no sich a thing,” replied the widow, in a tone that +expressed resentment at the question. “There is not body enough to +contain the brain av him in the furst place; an’ thin it’s such a d’ale +of thinking the cratur kapes up that there’s no vint for the same, an’ +the thoughts they kape revolving trou’ the brain av him, till I’m tauld +there’s great danger av an ixplosion.” + +“I am sorry for zis _pauvre garçon_,” replied the basso; and he once +more watched with interest the poetess and her remarkable son, who was +unable to give expression to the great thoughts that seethed through +his gigantic brain. + +“Della bella Wartyo,” cried a high tenor voice, as a tree-toad appeared. + +“Is it yourself, Signor Trillo?” answered the widow, cordially. “It’s +rej’iced to see ye I am. I was afeard we should lose the pl’isure of +your company this evening.” + +“A million thanks,” replied the tenor, effusively; “Madame is too +gracious.” + +“I take pl’isure, Signor, in presinting to ye Johnny the basso, the +swatest of singers, yourself ixcipted,” said the widow, graciously. + +Johnny the basso darted a scrutinizing glance at the tenor, for a +secret misgiving seized him. Could this tenor be the identical one +who had stolen from him the affection of the little brown frog? It +might be so,--that this foreigner, said to be of noble birth, so much +courted and feted by the “ten million” on account of the high position +he was supposed to hold in his native land, had won the fancy of the +fair brown frog. But he would not be precipitate, he would watch this +tenor; and if his suspicions were verified, then let the tenor look to +his safety! + +The tenor evidently was not disturbed by any such emotions as agitated +the great basso, and he greeted the latter in so unembarrassed a +manner, that the basso felt obliged to conceal his suspicions as well +as possible, and wait for future developments. + +“It’s a po’me Katrina Diddo will be afther reciting to us,” said the +widow, as the poetess came forward, and fixing her eyes on the full +moon that stood overhead, gazed at it awhile in silence. Then, while +the other guests waited breathlessly for the inspiration that she +seemed invoking from that brilliant orb, Katrina, still gazing upward, +recited the following lines:-- + + “Sunflower of the sky, + Oh! why + Floatest thou + On high? + + “The lily lovest thou? + Now, now, + To her descends + Thy vow. + + “Clothed in celestial light, + Bright, bright, + Into her flower-heart, + It flows at night.” + +“How exquisite!” murmured an ecstatic young grasshopper, who had gazed +enraptured on the ardent poetess; “methinks I faint with the sweet +oppression.” + +“Ye may will faint, that’s a fact!” replied the Widow O’Warty. “Will +ye recite that iligant thing, ‘Among the Daffodils’? I’m tauld it’s +accounted the finest po’me ye’ve proju’ced yit.” + +Whereupon the poetess, fixing her eyes on vacancy, recited the +following verses:-- + + “Among the daffodils, + Ah me! so lonesome! + Bending toward flowing rills, + Ah me! so lonesome! + Heart, cease thy beating, + Ah me! so lonesome! + Hear lambkin bleating, + Ah me! so lonesome! + + “Lambkin and daffodils, + Lonesome, so lonesome! + Ye flowerets, ye wandering rills, + Lonesome, so lonesome! + Lamb, to thy mother flee, + No longer lonesome, + Mated my heart shall be, + No longer lonesome.” + +“An’ now will ye give us the pl’isure of a song, Signor Trillo?” asked +the hostess, when the enthusiasm that followed the poem had died away. + +The tenor, in his high voice, responded with the following ditty:-- + + “Oh! say, have you heard, + From yonder bog, + The merry refrain + Of the little brown frog? + + “When the moon shineth down + On streamlet and rill, + You may hear in the fields, + The brown frog’s trill. + + “And all the night long. + And through the day, + The little brown frog + Is singing away. + + “Till my heart has grown sad + From the love I bring her, + And all for the sake + Of the little brown singer.” + +During the song, the basso felt his emotion overpowering him, and at +its conclusion he hopped up to the singer and exclaimed fiercely,-- + +“I wish to know, sair, who is zis leetle brown frog of whom you sing?” + +The tenor turned, and gazed in astonishment on the excited countenance +of the disturbed basso. + + + + +[Illustration: “I don’t fancy fat bassos, replied the saucy Brownella, +hopping to the tenor’s side.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE RIVALS. + + +“I did not mention the name of the little brown frog,” answered Signor +Trillo, haughtily. + +“But I desire to know zee name of zee leetle brown frog, Monsieur,” +persisted the excited basso. “I myself know one leetle brown frog, and +I wish to know zee name of her of whom you sing.” + +“That is my concern alone,” replied the tenor, in the same haughty +manner. “The name of her whose beauty I sing shall remain deeply +written on my heart, and the wealth of the world would not tempt me to +disclose it.” + +“What depth of soul!” softly murmured Katrina, “what delicacy of +feeling!” and all the assembled guests gazed admiringly on the +noble-spirited tenor. + +“But you _sall_ disclose zee name of zee leetle brown frog!” exclaimed +the basso, fiercely. “I seek one leetle brown frog, and I suspect, +Monsieur, zat zis is zee one. On your _honneur_, I demand zee name of +zee leetle brown frog.” + +“The honor of the fair sex is dearer to me than my own,” answered the +tenor, “and I refuse to disclose the name of her whose praises I sing.” + +A murmur ran through the assembly at these chivalrous words,--the +crickets and grasshoppers boldly sang out their admiration, the frogs +and toads croaked approval, the fireflies rushed excitedly about, +while the susceptible Katrina gave utterance to several sighs, as she +murmured,-- + +“What nobility of thought! what tenacity of purpose! Happy little brown +frog, to inspire such wealth of affection in so intense a nature!” + +As the admiration of the tenor increased, disapproval of the basso’s +conduct grew in proportion, and severe were the indignant glances cast +upon him. + +“I say to you zat you _have_ no _honneur_! I say to you zat you are no +noble in your native land! I say to you zat you are no Italien! I say +to you zat you are one Yankee! I say to you zat you are one coward and +one _imposteur_!” And the excitable basso paused, quite out of breath. + +For an instant after these audacious words there was a pause; but by +degrees the buzz of the assembled guests grew louder and louder, until +not a sound could be heard above the angry hum. All their indignation +was centered on the bold basso, who had dared to insult the noble +signor who held such a high position in his native land. + +“You shall retract your words, sir!” said the signor, when the voices +of his admirers had subsided sufficiently to allow him to be heard. +“You shall not insult a tree-toad of noble birth with impunity! You +shall answer for this insult.” + +“I say to you once more zat you are _not_ of noble birth,--zat you are +one Yankee _imposteur_, sair! You know well zat zee peoples in zis land +feel zemselves proud to make zee acquaintance of zee great Italien +noble; zat when he go to zem and say: ‘Behold me, I have no food to +eat; it is not possible for so great a noble as I to work for my food; +will you zee goodness have to give me from your abundance till I hear +from my noble friends in Italy?’ zen all zee peoples feel theirselves +proud to give to zee noble foreigner. Zat is how it is, I know it; and +I say zat you are one _imposteur_, sair, and I challenge you to deny +it, sair!” + +“What’s the use of all this quarrelling?” cried a gay voice, and a +sprightly young brown frog hopped between the two disputants, and +looked pertly about her. + +“Brownella!” exclaimed the basso in astonishment. “Do I see you at +last?” + +“I suppose you do, if you look this way,” answered Brownella, saucily. + +“The lady shall decide the matter,” said Signor Trillo. + +“Brownella, have you forgotten the vows we plighted, the sonnets I have +sung beneath your window?” asked the basso, tenderly. + +“Oh, bother!” ejaculated Brownella, with a coquettish toss of the head. + +“Have you forgotten how I, zee greatest basso-profundo on zee earth, +have sat night after night in zee cold, wet bog, chanting your praises? +Have you no remembrance of zis, I ask?” + +“I told you our voices didn’t blend well,” replied Brownella, pertly. +“How absurd for a soprano and basso-profundo to try to sing together! +We should only make a spectacle of ourselves.” + +“If zee hearts blend, what matter about zee voices?” asked the basso, +fondly. + +“I never yet made an object of myself, and I don’t intend to begin +now,” answered Brownella, saucily. + +“Will you choose, Brownella, between this basso and me?” asked the +tenor, who had manifested great satisfaction in the brown frog’s +replies to the basso. “Which shall it be, this fat basso, or the tenor +with the noble pedigree?” + +“I don’t fancy fat bassos,” replied the saucy Brownella, hopping to the +tenor’s side, while all the assembled guests sent up a hum of approval. + +There was nothing left for the basso but to accept his disappointment +as he best could, and with great ferocity he said to the tenor, “You +sall have occasion to show if you are one coward. I sall have zee +pleasure to meet you, Monsieur, to-morrow evening in zee meadow by zee +bog.” + +“I shall be there without fail,” replied the tenor, haughtily; and +abruptly saluting the hostess, the basso hopped angrily away. + +The next night, as soon as the moon appeared, the basso proceeded to +the bog in the meadow, to meet, in mortal combat, the tenor who had so +deeply insulted him. Toward the faithless Brownella, he seemed to bear +no resentment, concentrating all his wrath on the foreign singer who +had stolen from him the affections of the little brown frog. + +Not long did the basso sit on the moist edge of the bog before the +guests who had assembled the evening before at the Widow O’Warty’s +reception began to arrive, all eager to witness the contest between the +two great singers. + +The poetical Katrina and the talented Excelsior were among the early +arrivals, the poetess improving the time that elapsed before the +arrival of the tenor in composing a sonnet to the genius of her +remarkable son. + +Why did not the tenor appear? What could his absence mean? The guests +were beginning to ask themselves these questions, as time went on and +the tenor failed to appear. + +Groups of frogs were earnestly discussing the merits of the two +combatants, some offering wagers as to the result of the contest; here +and there bands of crickets and grasshoppers were talking over the +quarrel of the evening before in their shrill voices; and the fireflies +darted about impetuously, often soaring far out of sight, and always +returning with the information that the tenor was nowhere to be seen. + +At last whispers were heard suggesting that perhaps after all the tenor +would not appear; that he was purposely keeping away. + +All this time the basso sat silently on the margin of the bog, +glaring fiercely about him in every direction, hoping to catch sight +of his adversary,--silent except for an occasional deep-voiced croak +expressive of wrath. + +As the moon rose higher into the sky, and star after star came out, +and still the tenor did not appear, the hum of voices grew louder, +and took on an angry tone; and as is often the case with impulsive +natures, the very ones who had the evening before been the most +enthusiastic over the Italian tenor, now were the first to suspect him +of intentionally staying away, and to accuse him of cowardice. + +The boldness of the bull-frog, as he sat silently and ferociously +awaiting his rival’s coming, began to make an impression in his favor; +and before long, audible remarks disparaging the tenor were heard. + +At this point, a fine large fire-fly was seen flying rapidly toward +the company, and when he reached them, he sank exhausted on the moist +grass that surrounded the bog. All looked eagerly toward him, for they +knew he had news to tell them. As soon as he recovered his breath +sufficiently to speak, he said,-- + +“It’s of no use waiting any longer; he isn’t coming.” + +“Where is he?” was asked on all sides. + +“Taken himself off, nobody knows where,” answered the fire-fly, as well +as he could for want of breath. + +“To think of the times I’ve hunted food for the lazy thing!” exclaimed +a toad, angrily. + +“And I too!” was heard from many voices. + +“An’ think on the iligant reciption meself gave in his honor!” +exclaimed the Widow O’Warty. + +“And the sonnets I’ve dedicated to him!” murmured Katrina Diddo, +dejectedly. + +“It’s meself that always suspected he was dec’aving us,” said the widow. + +“So I have always said,” remarked a stout frog, who had shortly before +been one of the tenor’s most ardent admirers. “I’ve always said he’d +turn out to be a fraud, and now I hope you’ll believe me.” + +“The airs the cratur put on!” said the Widow O’Warty. “It’s aisy to +spake about the foine relations of him whin it’s so far removed they +are.” + +“And to think of the poor little brown frog!” exclaimed another; “how +he has deceived her!” + +All the company, who so short a time before were enthusiastic on the +subject of the noble foreigner, were now just as ready to denounce him. + +All this time the bull-frog, who had been so imposed upon, had remained +too deeply absorbed in his own wrongs to attend to the remarks of the +company. + +“Faith, an’ it’s sorry for ye I am, Johnny,” said the good-hearted +widow, as the basso was about to take his departure. “He’s a villain, +is Trillo, an’ that’s the troot.” + +“I knew it would turn out this way,” remarked to the basso the stout +frog who had before spoken. “It won’t do to trust these foreigners too +far. I knew you were right, when you exposed him yesterday.” + +“So did I,” said another of Signor Trillo’s former admirers. + +“I sank you for your very kind opinions,” responded the basso, +politely; “but you will pardon me if I say zat it is razer late to +express zese good opinions. If I do not deceive myself, it was quite +otherwise yesterday;” and with a courteous but frigid salutation, +Johnny the basso dived into the pool, and was not seen until he +reappeared on the other side, when he uttered a loud and agonizing +“a-hung!” + +The company looked at one another in astonishment at the cool reception +their expressions of sympathy had met with from the great singer, and +several murmured disapproval. The Widow O’Warty, whose good-nature +always asserted itself, was the first to recover herself. + +“It’s disapp’inted he is, an’ no wonder. An’ his thrubbles are not +over yet, I’m thinking, for a dec’ateful cratur is that Brownella; an’ +now that Trillo has taken his departure, it’s once more sthriving to +obtain the affections of poor Johnny she’ll be.” + +“It’s my opinion she’ll not succeed,” observed a young frog. “I +think he’s tired of her long ago, and I’m sure there are plenty more +attractive than that little dark-skinned Brownella.” + +“She was always a saucy thing,” said the stout frog. “I always told my +daughters to have nothing to do with her.” + +“She had betther kape her spickled face to home, or it’s a warm +reception the saucy cratur will find here,” remarked the widow. “But +what in the world is the matter, that ye must needs frighten a body +like that?” she continued, as a bat flew so closely to her, and with so +little noise, that she started back in alarm. “Oh! it’s yourself, is +it, Misther Flipwing? An’ fwhat in the world’s name is the matther?” + +“Have you heard the news?” Flipwing asked, as he clung to the trunk of +a tree in his favorite position, head downward. + +“What news do ye m’ane? Is it that the raskill Trillo has absconded, +afther recaving the attintions of the ‘tin million?’ Yis, we’ve heard +it; an’ it’s small astonishment the news gave meself, for it’s meself +that suspicted from the first that he was a dec’aver.” + +“No, I don’t mean that,” replied the bat. “I mean about Squirrello’s +youngster, you know.” + +“No, I do not know,” said the widow, eagerly. “Will ye pl’ase to +ixplain yourself, and acquaint us wid the news!” + +“Well, then,” responded Flipwing, “Squirrello’s youngest has +disappeared; either strayed away and got lost, or been entrapped. _I_’m +in favor of the latter theory.” + +“The purty little thing, wid the soft and bushy tail of him!” exclaimed +the widow; “it’s sorry for him I am.” + +“How did it happen?” demanded many voices. + +Flipwing could not satisfy their curiosity. He could only tell them +that the little squirrel had suddenly disappeared; that his parents +had searched everywhere in vain for him, and that they were almost +distracted with grief at their loss. + +This news all heard with regret, and each determined to do his best to +discover the fate of the lost squirrel. + +“Yees have all heard of the sarvices Misther Flipwing has rendered on +former occasions,” observed the widow; “an’ wid his hilp we’ll find the +poor b’y.” + + + + +[Illustration: “So it was with some inward satisfaction that they saw +him enter the passage-way that led into the dark cave.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +FLUFF IS LOST. + + +The news brought by the bat Flipwing was correct,--the youngest of the +squirrel family, little Fluff, was indeed missing, and great was the +distress of his family in consequence. The first day of freedom,--that +on which the two young crows had discovered the new dwellings of the +field-mouse and squirrels, when the young squirrels had ventured +out alone for the first time in their lives,--proved to be a most +disastrous event, for it awoke in their young natures a taste for +adventure that was most dangerous. + +So delightful was this new experience, that it became the custom of +the young squirrels daily, in the absence of their parents, to venture +out boldly, and enjoy the freedom of the woods. Bobtilla’s children, +possessing more timid natures, dared not join their neighbors in +their adventures, but remained quietly at home; while their fearless +playmates, made confident by the seclusion and solitude about them, +became constantly bolder, and each day ventured farther out. + +Such a vigilant old fellow as the miser Rough, who was now bent on +discovering the new retreat of his enemies, as he chose to consider the +harmless little field-mouse and squirrels, could not fail before long +to find them out. + +One day, hidden behind a moss-covered stump, old Rough discovered the +young squirrels frisking merrily about among the trees and over the +rocks; and he soon learned that it was the habit of these active young +creatures to venture out daily, as soon as their parents had departed +in search of food, and pursue their innocent gambols. + +Then did the old water-rat set his wicked mind to work, and he soon +formed a plan of revenge that afforded him perfect satisfaction. + +Beneath the very stump that had served as a hiding-place whence he +could watch his unsuspecting victims, he dug a long and deep den, and +skilfully concealed the opening with moss and leaves. To this cavern he +conducted his wife, giving her minute directions as to her part of the +programme. + +Ruffina promised to obey in every particular; and indeed a much bolder +nature than the water-rat’s submissive wife’s might have quailed under +the direful consequences which the old miser vowed would follow the +slightest disregard of his directions. + +Thus was Ruffina installed within the den, and before the opening was +placed a fine acorn, while just within lay several more of unusually +fine size and quality. + +Meanwhile the young squirrels frisked and gambolled in their beautiful +playground among the trees with not a suspicion of the plot laid for +their destruction. A very venturesome squirrel was little Fluff, the +youngest and most promising of the family, and his bold spirit led +him into places where his more cautious brothers and sister dared not +follow. His bright eyes were always spying out objects they never +thought of finding, and his inquisitive little nose was constantly +poking itself where it had no business to go. + +The time for which old Rough had long waited at last arrived. Fluff’s +curious eyes espied the tempting acorn that the old miser had placed to +entrap him, and in a moment he had it in his little forepaws, and his +sharp teeth soon penetrated the thin shell. Selfishness was not one of +Fluff’s faults, and he generously divided the delicate morsel with his +companions. + +The acorn did not go very far, to be sure, and when the small share +that fell to each was eaten, they looked at each other wistfully. + +“What a pity there are no more!” said one. + +“Ah, that was good,” replied another, carefully examining the empty +shells, in the hope that some crumbs might have been overlooked. + +“There must be more,” asserted Fluff, positively. “It isn’t likely just +one nut would be left here. It was dropped by mistake, and the rest, +probably a big pile, must be near;” and Fluff’s inquisitive nose and +bright eyes began their investigations. + +It was not long before the opening so ingeniously concealed by old +Rough was brought to light, and in went Master Fluff. + +“See here!” he soon called out, “what did I tell you? Here are some +more of them, and you may be sure that that dark den beyond is full. +Come on, and help yourselves!” + +The more cautious brothers and sister, however, did not think it +prudent to venture into the dark entrance to the cavern, but looked +longingly in, while the bolder Fluff brought them some of the fine +acorns, which, if possible, were even larger and of finer flavor than +the one found outside. + +These, too, were soon eaten, and then came the natural desire for more. +The first peep into the dark cavern, however, had been sufficient to +keep all but Fluff at a safe distance; but this venturesome young +squirrel soon decided on the course he intended to pursue. + +“I’ve made up my mind,” said Fluff, boldly, “that there are plenty more +acorns in that dark hole, and I’m going in.” + +“Going in!” exclaimed his horrified companions. + +“Yes; what is there so strange in that?” laughed Fluff. “It’s evident +to me that that dark cave is the hiding-place of some old miser, and on +the way he dropped a few of his nuts. There must be a pile of them, or +he wouldn’t have let such fine nuts lie there.” + +“Oh, don’t go in!” pleaded little Flossie. “Suppose some great horrid +creature with long, sharp teeth and claws lives there!” + +“If I find any such thing there, I shall come right back, of course. Do +you think I am so foolish as to allow myself to be nabbed?” + +But Flossie’s gentle little heart was not satisfied, and she continued +to plead with her venturesome brother. The others, it must be +confessed, did not oppose so many objections to Fluff’s plans as did +his tender-hearted little sister, for they greatly desired the savory +nuts, and Fluff had always come off with such flying colors from the +many risks he had run, that they had great confidence in his powers; +so it was with some inward satisfaction that they saw him enter the +passage-way that led into the dark cave. + +For an instant all was still, and the little squirrels waiting outside +huddled together, listening breathlessly for some signal from their +brother; but all at once arose in Fluff’s well-known voice a sharp cry +of pain, and then followed immediately repeated calls for help. + +The timid creatures, terrified, scampered off as fast as they could go, +leaving their courageous brother to his fate. When at a safe distance, +they stopped, their hearts beating wildly and their sides palpitating, +and looked timidly back at the dark cavern into which poor Fluff had +disappeared. + +Nothing was to be seen, and all was still; and soon came the dreadful +thought,--how should they account to their parents for Fluff’s absence? + +Too cowardly to tell the truth, which would reveal their own +disobedience, they resolved to assert boldly that Fluff had disappeared +suddenly when they were at play, and they could find no traces of him. + +In vain did gentle Flossie plead with them to allow her to tell the +whole truth; but she was threatened with the most dreadful consequences +if she did not do as they wished. + +“I’ll set ‘Old Dead’ after you, Floss, if you tell,” said her oldest +brother, when all other arguments had failed. + +Who “Old Dead” was, Flossie hadn’t the least idea; but she knew he must +be somebody to be dreaded, for the name alone struck terror to her +gentle soul; and even Fluff, bold as he was, had often submitted to his +older brothers, when they threatened to summon “Old Dead.” + +Thus, much against her will, Flossie yielded, and promised to help her +brothers deceive their kind parents in regard to her poor lost brother; +and when Squirrella and Squirrello returned, the sad story was told +them that Fluff had suddenly disappeared, and that they thought the +fierce Blinkeye must have carried him off. + +“In the daytime?” asked Squirrello. “How can that be? He sleeps all day +long.” + +“Any way, we heard a great noise, and thought it must be Blinkeye,” +asserted the little squirrels, boldly. + +But in spite of their success in deceiving their parents, the cowardly +little creatures were far from being satisfied with themselves; and as +for little Flossie, she mourned more and more, as day after day passed, +and no tidings came from her favorite brother. + +Poor Fluff! he was in the power of old Rough, who was keeping him a +prisoner, in order to revenge himself on Squirrello and Squirrella +for giving assistance to Bobtilla. Ruffina was his jailor, and heard +without pity his prayers to be released. + +The old miser himself occasionally visited his captive in order to +enjoy his misery. Poor little Fluff! One who had seen him in his days +of freedom, with his bushy tail tilted saucily over his striped back, +and his bright eyes glancing roguishly about, would never recognize him +in the drooping little figure with lustreless eyes that now crouched in +one corner of old Rough’s prison, day and night under Ruffina’s sharp +eyes, as she sat ready to pounce upon him at the first effort he made +to escape. + +Very meagre was poor Fluff’s fare, and the plump sides that once bulged +out under his generous feed of nuts were now sunken and hollow. + +At first the little prisoner, relying on his swift movements, made many +attempts to escape when he thought the attention of his watchful jailor +was withdrawn; but he was soon undeceived, and her strong paws reminded +him that she was as vigilant as ever. + +Courageous as was Fluff’s spirit, it was fast becoming subdued from +imprisonment and starvation; but through it all came the thought that +his loving parents would find some means to release him, and this +thought cheered him through many a lonely hour. + +Little did Fluff dream, frank and fearless as he was, to what base +methods cowardly natures can be led; and shut up in this dark cavern, +his mind pictured his brothers and sister lurking near his prison, +watching for an opportunity to defend him, and his parents laying plans +for his release. Every sound made his heart beat fast with expectation, +but each time it fell with disappointment as his hopes deceived him. + +While poor Fluff waited and watched for his release, his friends +outside were busily employed in discovering traces of him. In vain did +Squirrello and Squirrella search for some trace of their lost child, +and Bobtilla joined in the search. + +That shrewd fellow, the swallow Swift, flew hither and thither, looking +into hollow trees and dark holes; but not a clew to the missing Fluff +did he discover. + +That experienced detective, Flipwing, was on the watch, too, and +at night prowled silently about, hoping to gain some clew to the +whereabouts of Fluff. At times some slight information, that to the +inexperienced would seem of no value, the shrewd Flipwing would seize +on, and by skilfully weaving together the news he had obtained, the +hope that he had at last found a clew to the mystery would encourage +him; but when the chain of evidence was nearly complete, a missing link +would overthrow the whole, and Flipwing’s patient work become useless. + +At last, however, when the detective’s final hope had disappeared, an +unexpected event set his heart beating with renewed courage. + + + + +[Illustration: “The squirrels looked as they were directed, and +discovered the bat.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +FLIPWING MAKES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY. + + +The circumstance that so much encouraged the bat Flipwing was the +following: One morning, after an unusually tedious night had been +spent in trying to discover some information concerning the missing +Fluff, Flipwing had alighted on a tree in the depths of the wood, and +clinging head downward to the rough bark had fallen instantly asleep. + +The sun’s rays sifting through the forest trees did not wake the +exhausted bat, and he slept soundly until the sun stood directly +overhead. Then his heavy slumber changed to a lighter one, interspersed +with dreams in which the scenes of the previous night were enacted. At +last Flipwing dreamed that his diligent search was rewarded, and the +fate of the lost squirrel decided. + +So vivid was the dream that Flipwing could hardly believe it was not +reality, and that he did not actually hear the voice of the little +squirrel, when suddenly a particularly bright ray of sunlight fell on +him, and he awoke. + +At first so deep had been his slumber, and so very natural his dream, +that the bat could not at once understand whether he were awake or +asleep. He looked about him, however, and soon realized that he had +been asleep on the tree where he had alighted a few hours before. The +atmosphere of his dream hung about him, and he still seemed to hear the +little squirrel’s high tones. + +It was true that Flipwing _did_ hear a squirrel’s voice; but it was +not the voice of Fluff, and in an instant the bat’s sharp senses were +wide awake and on the alert. Three young squirrels were seated on a +neighboring tree, so eager in conversation that they did not observe +the small, dark outline of the bat clinging to the tree. Flossie and +her two older brothers were talking together very eagerly, and after +hearing a few words Flipwing did not allow a single sentence of the +conversation to escape him. + +“Do let me tell what became of him,” pleaded Flossie; “he may be +alive, and waiting for us to release him.” + +“Remember your promise, you little sneak!” answered her brother Bob; +“you needn’t think you can go back on that.” + +“Fluff wouldn’t have served you so, you know he wouldn’t,” said +Flossie, earnestly. “He’d have come right into the hole and tried to +get you out.” + +“Well, we’re not quite so foolish as all that,” said Chippie, the other +brother. “It wouldn’t have helped Fluff any to have us caught and eaten +up too.” + +“Oh dear!” exclaimed Flossie, “then you think poor Fluff is killed? Oh, +how wicked we have been not to tell!” + +“I don’t believe he’s killed,” replied Bob; “most likely he’s alive and +well, and they’re only keeping him there in prison.” + +“Then there’s all the more reason for our telling,” said Flossie. “Just +think of his waiting for some one to come and help him, while we are +such cowards we don’t dare tell what happened to him!” + +“If you _do_ tell, Floss, ‘old Dead’ will get you sure, and I’ll call +him,” threatened Bob, for Flossie was becoming so earnest that her +brother felt extreme measures were needed. + +“I don’t care for ‘old Dead’! You can call him, for all I care. I’m +going to tell just where poor Fluff is,” and off started Flossie with +more energy than she had ever before displayed. + +So unexpected was their gentle little sister’s revolt that her +brothers at first were too much astonished to move; but they recovered +themselves before she had gone very far, and soon overtook her, +handling her so roughly that the poor little creature gave a cry of +pain. + +“Let her alone! Do you hear?” called out a voice, sharply. + +All three of the squirrels looked about them in astonishment; but not +a trace of the speaker did they discover, and a horrible thought began +to dawn in Chippie’s mind, that perhaps “old Dead,” on whose name they +had so often called, had become tired of these appeals, and had at last +come to call them to account. + +“Let her alone, I say!” repeated the voice; “and stop where you are, or +it will be the worse for you.” + +Too terrified to move, the three young squirrels waited breathlessly +for the possessor of the voice to disclose himself. In vain their eyes +glanced anxiously about,--not a sign of any living creature did they +discover. + +“Look up here, on this oak-tree,” called out the same voice. “There’s +nothing to be afraid of. All I want of you is to answer a question or +two, and then you shall go.” + +The squirrels looked as they were directed, and discovered the bat. +The discovery was a great relief to them, particularly to Chippie, +whose imagination had become quite active on the subject of “old Dead.” + +“Now tell me where your brother is. I promise you that nobody shall +harm you if you tell the truth.” + +The two brothers were silent, and looked at each other inquiringly, as +if they were deliberating whether they should tell all they knew. The +bat was very quick to see what was going on in their minds. + +“If you tell me all,” said Flipwing, “I will not betray you; but unless +you do, I shall go at once to your parents and repeat to them the +conversation I have overheard.” + +Thus warned, Bob recited the same story he had repeated to his parents +about Fluff’s sudden disappearance. + +“You are not telling me the truth,” said Flipwing, severely; “remember, +I overheard you just now when you thought yourselves alone.” + +“I will tell you all about it,” said Flossie, boldly. “Fluff went into +a dark hole after some acorns, and he didn’t come back; and he gave +an awfully loud screech, and I know something must have hurt him very +badly, for Fluff doesn’t make a fuss about trifles.” + +“Where is the hole into which your brother went, little one?” asked +Flipwing, kindly. + +“Do you see that big stump over by that tall hemlock-tree?” asked +Flossie. + +“I can’t see very well in the daytime, little one; but if you describe +it, I can find it when night comes.” + +“There’s a big stump right over there,” said Flossie, with a nod of her +head in the direction indicated. “It’s a _very_ big stump, and you may +know it by the lots of moss growing on top of it. Well, under it is a +hole. You don’t notice it at first, because it’s almost covered over +with leaves and moss, but Fluff pushed them aside, and it’s very large +indeed inside.” + +“And so Fluff disappeared inside, and that’s the last you’ve seen of +him, is it?” + +“Yes,” answered Flossie, “and I should not be surprised if an awfully +cross creature with long claws lived there.” + +“We’ll find out all about that, little one,” said Flipwing; “but why +didn’t you tell all this before?” + +Flossie hung down her head, and the two brothers looked heartily +ashamed of themselves. + +“I see how it is,” said the acute Flipwing; “you wanted to tell, and +your brothers wouldn’t allow you to. Well, I promised not to betray you +if you told me all; but such cowardly actions deserve to be punished, +and I should think your consciences would keep you uneasy. I wouldn’t +want _my_ conscience burdened with the thought that I had left a +brother of mine in the lurch.” + +The two cowardly brothers did indeed look as if their consciences were +beginning to work, for they hung their heads in a very shamefaced +manner, and made no reply. + +“Now you can go,” said Flipwing, “for I wish to be alone to think;” and +off ran the squirrels, delighted to be released. Even the two cowardly +brothers were greatly relieved to know that the bat had taken it upon +himself to find their lost brother. + +All through the day Flipwing remained silently hanging to his tree, +and when night came he suddenly unfolded his long wings and floated +noiselessly away. + +That same evening old Rough visited his prisoner, and found everything +going on most satisfactorily. The little squirrel was as pitiful an +object as even he could desire, his former animation gone, and his +once plump body grown very meagre under his scanty fare. All this made +the old miser particularly happy, and he emerged from his den with a +repulsive grin on his grim countenance. Ruffina cautiously followed +him; and as he emerged from the den, he turned and saw her behind him. + +“What are you here for? Go back to your charge,” said the old miser, +angrily. + +“Do please allow me a little more to eat;” said Ruffina, meekly; “it +is so very little that I grow weaker every day, and I often have a +dreadful pain inside.” + +“More to eat!” snarled the old rat. “Are you crazy? What do you suppose +will become of us unless we are very saving? Yes, old lady, we must +pinch and save, unless we wish to die of want.” + +“I shall die of starvation unless I have more to eat,” answered +Ruffina, made bold by sheer desperation. “You don’t allow me enough to +keep body and soul together, and I don’t dare leave your prisoner there +long enough to go to seek any.” + +“You’d better not, madam,” said the old rat, with a savage snap of his +teeth that caused his wife to start back. “You’d better not! I allow +you all you need to keep alive. A nice state of affairs there would be +if you had your own way!” + +“But why not make ourselves comfortable, when you have so much stored +away?” pleaded Ruffina. + +A sudden spring toward her by the old miser caused Ruffina to give a +terrified squeak, and rush back into the den. Her husband looked after +her for a moment, and then with a leer of satisfaction he departed. + +When he was out of sight, a little dark object emerged from a +neighboring tree, and alighted on a bush that grew near the entrance to +the den; it was Flipwing the spy, who from his place of concealment +had overheard the conversation between the old miser and his wife. + +“Ruffina!” called Flipwing. + +The summons was repeated several times before the long, sharp nose of +the wary Ruffina was seen emerging from the entrance of the den. + +“Oh, there you are!” said Flipwing. “I want to have a few words with +you.” + +When she heard her name called, Ruffina poked her long nose farther +out, and cast a sharp glance about her. Nobody was in sight; and she +was about to retreat when she once more heard the same voice, and +following the direction of the sound discovered the little bat. + +Now Ruffina was very timid and submissive in the presence of her lord +and master, but when out of his presence was as bold as anybody; and so +she answered gruffly,-- + +“What do you want at this time of night?” + +“I want a little talk with you,” answered Flipwing. + +“Well, talk away,” said Ruffina. + +It was not easy for Flipwing to begin, for having seen Ruffina so timid +with her husband, he was quite unprepared for this change of manner. + +“I say, it’s a shame the old man is so hard on you,” began Flipwing, +after a moment’s pause. + +“What’s that to you, pray?” asked Ruffina, shortly. + +“I don’t like to see it,” replied Flipwing, determined not to be +bluffed by this cool reception. “The old fellow ought to be more +considerate of you; there are plenty of younger fellows who would +gladly stand in his shoes.” + +“Nonsense!” responded Ruffina, bruskly, but in a tone that showed she +was not displeased with this broad flattery. + +“Fact,” said Flipwing, “and you know it!” + +“I don’t know any such thing,” replied Ruffina. + +“You’ll not make me believe that,” said Flipwing. “Didn’t you ever see +yourself reflected in a brook or pool?” + +“Well, suppose I have,--what then?” + +Flipwing was rather discomfited to find he had made so little headway +in the good graces of the miser’s wife; he had imagined that a little +flattery would make a favorable impression. + +“I was going to say,” remarked the bat, “that it is a pity old Rough +keeps you so short, for a little more food would make your coat shine +till you could see your face in it,--not but that it is handsome as it +is, but better fare would make it more so.” + +“Well, what of it?” asked Ruffina. + +“I was about to add that I could show you where you could eat to your +heart’s content, and take away all you could carry besides. It is but a +short distance from here.” + +“No, you don’t!” exclaimed Ruffina, with a shrewd grin. + +“What do you mean?” asked Flipwing, innocently. + +“I mean, what do you expect me to do in return?” + +“Why, nothing,” answered the bat; “can’t you give me credit for being a +little disinterested? I hear you complaining to your husband that you +have not enough to eat, and he harshly refuses to grant you a larger +allowance; what more natural than that I should tell you where you can +find what you want? It doesn’t cost me anything,--_I_ don’t eat acorns.” + +“Acorns!” exclaimed Ruffina, her mouth fairly watering at the mention +of the rich, juicy nuts. “Well, where are they?” + +“Do you know the two big chestnut-trees in Farmer Smith’s pasture? The +lightning struck one of them last summer and split it. Well, under that +one you will find a hole with some large acorns in it. I saw some +squirrels hiding them there. You just go and help yourself.” + +“I can’t!” answered Ruffina. “Rough would kill me if he knew I left the +den.” + +“He will not know any thing about it,” said Flipwing. + +“He knows everything,” replied Ruffina; “and then I couldn’t leave--” +She stopped abruptly, for in her eagerness for the food for which she +was suffering she had nearly allowed the secret of the prison to escape +her. + +“Well, no matter,” replied Flipwing, “do as you like about it; the nuts +are there and will keep.” + +“It’s of no use,” said Ruffina, decidedly; “Rough would be sure to come +home the very moment I had left, and then--” A shiver which was more +expressive than words ran through her emaciated frame. + +“I’m sorry,” replied the bat, good-naturedly, “for I don’t know when +I’ve seen such fine specimens; they were evidently picked expressly.” + +“It’s very kind of you to tell me about them,” said Ruffina, “but it +is impossible for me to go so far;” and with a shake of her head she +slowly re-entered the den. + +“She’ll go,” said Flipwing to himself, “and before long too. The poor +creature is nearly starved to death, and can’t resist the temptation. +Well, I will watch my chance, and rescue poor Fluff, if he does not die +of grief and starvation before;” and away flew Flipwing, well-satisfied +with the result of his expedition. + + + + +[Illustration: “And then swam quietly home.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +OLD ROUGH EXPOUNDS A LAW OF THE WOODS, AND OLD CAW FORMS A PLAN. + + +After old Rough had left his little prisoner, instead of going in the +direction of his home he entered deeper into the woods. There was no +moon, and the stars were obscured by dark clouds that drifted rapidly +across the sky, while a stiff breeze swayed the tree-tops until they +jostled one another roughly, and groaned and creaked. Occasionally +a low muttering that resounded through the forest and died away in a +faint wail was heard from the dark clouds overhead. + +All the small inhabitants of the woods, with the exception of a +solitary bat that crossed and recrossed old Rough’s path, were safe +within their snug homes, and the old water-rat went on through the +darkness with more confidence than if the way were lighted for him. +Occasionally he stopped and sniffed about with his long, sharp nose; +but it was evident that important business was afoot, for he proceeded +with as much haste as his bulky body and the uneven forest roads +permitted. + +Darker grew the clouds, and more violently the tree-tops crashed +against one another, while the heavy rolls of thunder seemed to shake +the earth. + +The louder, however, the thunder growled, and the denser the darkness, +the better pleased was old Rough as he scurried along among the +underbrush, unmoved by the commotion about him. After a time he stopped +and gazed at the tall trees. + +“It should be near here,” remarked the old rat to himself. “I am sure +he said the big oak in front of the ledge of rocks. He’ll be sure to be +at home on such a night as this, so I shall not have had my journey for +nothing. Yes, there’s the ledge, and the big oak too; and unless I’m +much mistaken, there’s the old fellow himself on the lookout as usual. +He’s a fine looking fellow, is Blinkeye, that’s a fact; but I prefer to +keep at a safe distance.” + +About half way up the old oak, where once a sturdy limb had been torn +away by the lightning, the wood had become decayed and crumbled, and +in the natural hollow thus formed, the owl had made his nest. There he +sat, protected from the weather, the pointed tufts on his head erect, +and his vigilant yellow eyes on the watch for any prey that might fall +to him. + +As the water-rat neared the oak-tree, the slight rustling he made as he +dragged his body over the leaves and grass was detected by the quick +ears of the watchful owl. + +“A bad night to be out in, friend Rough,” observed the owl, as the rat +paused under the oak-tree. + +“I don’t find it so,” answered Rough. “I prefer having the road to +myself; and a little rain would suit me to a T.” + +There was a short pause, during which the branches crashed fiercely +together, and a loud report from the black clouds reverberated through +the dark forest, and in the momentary silence that followed this +explosion of the elements was heard the pattering of large rain-drops. +Faster and faster came the drops, and soon down came the rain in sheets. + +The owl drew farther within his retreat, and sat with his wings drawn +closely to his sides, and his head held stiffly back, to avoid the +drops that at times splashed against him. Not so the water-rat; exposed +to the full force of the shower, in a few moments his heavy fur was +drenched; but an expression of enjoyment stole over his countenance as +the rain ran in little rivers down his sides, and trickled off his long +nose. + +“I suppose you strolled out to enjoy this fine evening,” said Blinkeye, +with a shrug of his shoulders, as a shower of rain-drops dashed against +his face. + +“No,” answered the water-rat, frankly, “I came to see you on business.” + +“I’m at your service,” replied Blinkeye. + +“You know, of course, how that Italian fellow Trillo turned out?” said +Rough. + +“Yes, I have heard he disappeared, after he had made use of his +friends. It is just as I expected it would be.” + +“It served them right for being such toadies,” sneered the water-rat. +“That cracked Katy Did (for that’s her real name, though she doesn’t +consider it fine enough since she’s made poetry) I’m told sat up nights +making verses about him. I’m glad he went off without paying his debts, +to teach them a lesson.” + +“Teach them a lesson!” repeated Blinkeye, with a cynical laugh. + +“You’re right,” said the old miser, with an approving nod; “I see you +understand animal nature. But I must come to business, for it’s getting +late and I am some distance from home. You know the war between the +frogs and mice that’s to take place,--you must have heard it talked +over.” + +“Yes,” replied Blinkeye; “and if it’s ever to come off, I should say it +was time to begin.” + +“It _will_ begin at once now. Since Johnny the basso was so put out by +Trillo leaving him in the lurch, he’s turned his attention to the war.” + +“What is he up to?” asked the owl. + +“He’s putting things into shape. He’s been canvassing all the bogs +about, and they say he’s got a big army together. He’s smart, is +Johnny, and I wouldn’t give much for the mice’s chances.” + +“Think not?” asked Blinkeye. + +“No, sir,” replied old Rough, confidently. “Why, the frogs are ten to +one of them; and a fine set of fellows they are, I can tell you. I’ve +seen them drilling nights down by our bog. No, indeed, the mice haven’t +a shadow of a chance.” + +“Frogs are not to my taste, but sleek, tender young mice--” said +Blinkeye, with a snap of his strong beak that was very expressive. + +“That’s just it,” said old Rough, eagerly. “It’s for your interest and +mine to have Johnny’s army win, and I’ve promised to help him all I +can (in the way of advice, you know); and if I find an opportunity to +do the mice an ill turn, I shall take advantage of it, you may be sure.” + +“I don’t see exactly how it is for your and my interest to have the +frogs victorious,” said Blinkeye. + +“Don’t you see? Why, the mice will be obliged to retreat in confusion, +and you will have a chance to take your pick of them.” + +“Oh, yes, I understand,” replied the owl, who in spite of his wise +expression and reputation for wisdom was not nearly so acute as the old +water-rat. “And you, what will you gain?” + +“I? Oh, I shall look in on their homes while they’re fighting, and +help myself, you may be sure, to the stores I find there. The mice, as +a general thing, are thrifty and saving; but the frogs are shiftless +fellows, and live from hand to mouth.” + +“When is the battle to take place?” asked Blinkeye. + +“I don’t know exactly,” replied the water-rat; “but as soon as Johnny +is ready. By the way, what is that law of the woods I’ve heard you +repeat?” + +“You mean that prophecy my great-grandfather recited when the crow and +your great-grandfather--” + +“Yes,” interrupted the rat, hastily, “what is it?” + +The owl gravely recited,-- + + “‘War and strife, grief and woe, + Follow you where’er you go. + Never more shall you know rest + For weary feet and aching breast, + Till body round and lithe and long + Shall vanquish body thick and strong. + Then shall dawn a day of peace, + And every strife and sorrow cease.’ + +Is that what you meant?” he added. + +“Yes,” replied old Rough, “that’s it. It evidently refers to the battle +that’s to come off between the frogs and the mice. Yes, ‘body round +and lithe and long’ must refer to the frogs, for they can lengthen out +to any extent, and ‘body thick and strong’ of course means the mice, +though I don’t know about the strength. Yes, there’s no doubt but +that ‘body round and lithe and long’ _will_ ‘vanquish body thick and +strong.’” + +“I presume,” said Blinkeye, “the mice are preparing too?” + +“By no means,” replied old Rough. “I don’t believe they have the least +notion of what a battle is,--they are timid creatures.” + +“I know it, afraid of their own shadows,” said Blinkeye, as a sudden +streak of lightning flashed in his face, and made him flutter his wings +nervously. + +“They keep out of the way so much that they don’t know what is going on +in the world,” said the water-rat. “Oh, ’twill be an easy victory for +the frogs! Whew! what was that?” he exclaimed, as a dark object rushed +by him and nearly brushed against his nose. + +“Only a bat; the woods are full of them. They’re not worth the trouble +of catching, they’re all wings,” replied the owl, coolly. + +“One passed me on the way here,” said the old rat; “I shouldn’t be +surprised if it were the same one. Well, I must be off. Keep a sharp +lookout for the engagement, for it may take place any night now.” + +The owl retreated farther into his den, and the old rat retraced his +steps, slipping along on the wet ground with great ease, until he came +to his native stream, when he plunged in, and disappearing under the +turbid water, arose some distance farther on, and then swam quietly +home, his long nose only visible, as it parted the surface of the +stream, forming ripples that spread to either bank. + +The dark object that flew so near the old water-rat, as he was +conversing with the owl, was, as the latter had said, a bat, and no +other than our sharp friend Flipwing, who had followed the old miser +to the owl’s abode, and had overheard the conversation between the +two. Long before the old water-rat reached his den, the general of +the mouse-forces, a brother-in-law of Bobtilla, and General Squeako +by name, was apprised of all that was going on among the frogs; and a +long consultation was held between him and the bat, which seemed to be +satisfactory to both parties. Shortly before daylight, Flipwing reached +his home, wet and tired, and instantly fell asleep. + +Not so the mouse-general. Sleep did not visit his eyes that night; +but under cover of the darkness he made the rounds of his soldiers, +trusting to no one but himself, to make sure that all was in readiness. + +The next morning old Caw awoke even earlier than was his usual +habit, for the heavy showers of the night before were followed by a +particularly fresh and invigorating atmosphere. The refreshed foliage +glistened and quivered as the light breeze stirred it, and the rays of +the sun caused the dew-drops on the grass to sparkle like crystals. + +Every bird felt the influence of the freshness that pervaded Nature, +and their morning songs rang out more blithely, until the forest was +alive with the sweet melody. + +Old Caw stretched himself, and then hopped down to the bough beneath +him. The other members of the crow family were just beginning to stir, +and were cawing sleepily to one another. + +“The early bird catches the worm,” said old Caw to himself, as he +noiselessly spread his wings and flew away. + +The old crow reaped a fine harvest this morning, for driven to the +surface by the heavy rain, many an earth-worm was seized by Caw’s +strong beak before he could wriggle back to his hole. Grubs, too, +reposing unsuspecting of evil on the wet earth, were snapped up by the +voracious Caw. + +The shrewd old crow discovered before long that something of unusual +importance was about to take place, for the field-mice, who were +usually safe at home at that hour, were hurrying about, talking +together in low tones, all conversation ceasing and groups dispersing +as soon as he made his appearance. All this excited old Caw’s +curiosity, and determined him to fathom the mystery. + +In the course of his morning’s wanderings, old Caw alighted to rest +near the stump beneath which poor little Fluff was concealed. As he sat +pluming his ruffled feathers, that in his old age required more care +than in his youth when they were glossy and flexible, low tones fell +on his ear; and in an instant the old crow’s head was turned to one +side, with his best ear tilted toward the opening beneath the stump, +whence the voices proceeded. + +Old Caw was not long in recognizing the voice of old Rough, and, in +her occasional submissive replies, the high, squeaking one of Ruffina; +and judging from his low tones that the old miser was desirous that +the conversation should not be overheard, Caw approached as near as he +dared without fear of detection, and listened with all his might. + +“When, did you say?” squeaked Ruffina. + +“I didn’t say when,” replied her husband, in the snarling tone in which +he habitually addressed his wife. “Whenever the frogs are ready; so all +you have to do is to hold yourself in readiness, and do as I tell you.” + +“But how shall I know when the battle has begun? I can’t hear anything +in this lonely place.” + +“I shall let you know,” replied her husband; “and mind you follow my +directions implicitly. You are certain you understand just what is +expected of you, and will not spoil all by your stupidity?” + +“Yes,” replied Ruffina, meekly; “I’m to visit all the mouse-nests while +the fight is going on, and bring away whatever I find there.” + +“Don’t speak so loudly; you’ve got a voice like a trumpet,” answered +her husband, sharply; “and mind you don’t waste your time among the +poor ones, but go at once to the rich mice, who have piles of grain +stored away;” and the old rat’s small black eyes snapped with pleasure +at the prospect, while his wife, poor hungry creature, felt her heart +leap within her. + +“Remember you are not to taste of one single grain or kernel, or +it will be the dearest morsel you ever ate,” added the old miser, +savagely. + +“Yes, Rough,” answered his submissive wife. + +“I’ve heard all I want to know,” said old Caw to himself, as he +silently flew away that he might not be detected by the two rats. He +left the woods, and flew directly to the farm where old Rough, a short +time before, had fought so desperately with the weasel. + +The old crow perched on an apple-tree that grew near the barnyard, and +kept his one eye roaming about in every direction. The hens were busily +engaged in eating their breakfast, for the inhabitants of a farm begin +the day early. The horses in their stalls were munching their feed, +while in the barnyard the cows stood placidly chewing their cuds during +the process of milking. + +Of all these things old Caw took note, as he sat on the apple-tree, +hidden by the foliage, and careful not to attract the attention of any +of the farm-hands by the least motion; for nobody knew better than he +the unpopularity of his race among farmers. He waited until the milkers +had carried to the farm-house their pails of white, foaming milk, and +then, after a careful survey of the premises, to make sure that nobody +was in sight, he silently flew down from his hiding-place, and walking +up to the hole that he knew led to the weasel’s abode, softly called +his name. + +In a few moments the head of the weasel appeared, and an earnest +conversation ensued between the two. So low were the voices of both +pitched that not a word could have been audible to any listener; but +the result of the interview was evidently highly satisfactory, for the +weasel looked very happy, and the old crow flew home, cawing exultingly. + + + + +[Illustration: “The hitherto orderly retreat of the frogs was turned +into an ignominious stampede.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE BATTLE. + + +It was a warm, sultry night in August; the air was heavy with vapor, +and the grass wet with dew. The large meadow through which the stream +ran was seen through a haze from the clouds of vapor that settled down +over it, and which the still air had not power to lift. Through this +mist the outline of the forest that surrounded the meadow was dimly +seen, the tall trees looking gaunt and ghostlike in the faint light. + +The large bog that was formed by the widening of the stream was hardly +visible from the dense mist that stood over it, and as the great red +moon sank behind the forest trees, darkness settled down over all, +until the meadow looked ghostly white, enveloped in its veil of mist. + +A little knoll rose on one side of the meadow, and when the moon +disappeared, and all was dark and still, little lights were seen +flitting to and fro. Presently the mist on the meadow seemed to be +broken by innumerable little dark objects that emerged from the edge +of the bog, intermingled with numerous lights gleaming here and there +through the vapor. Gradually these lines lengthened out into lines +parallel with one another, and spread out on each side of the bog, the +same little lights scintillating among them and lighting them on their +way. + +Soon the same little sparks might have been seen darting down from +the knoll, and running thence in various directions toward the lines +forming in the meadow by the bog. The little knoll served as the +headquarters of the frog-general, who sent out his aids-de-camp, the +fireflies, with orders for his divisions of valiant soldiers who were +issuing from the bog, armed with sharp spears of grass, wherewith to +attack the wily enemy. + +Gradually the dark lines spread out in a semicircle across the meadow, +brilliantly illuminated from time to time by the glinting of the +fireflies, who at intervals, as if by command, emitted brilliant light, +while answering signals flashed from the reeds in the bog to show that +the reserves were holding themselves in readiness. + +As the general on the knoll directs his gaze toward the opposite wood, +he beholds tiny blue lights, their steady glow contrasting with the +scintillating lights of his fireflies,--the steady glow rising and +falling and moving among the grass where the meadow merges from the +wood. + +The frog-general finds his expectations verified; his preparations, +though secretly and carefully undertaken, have been discovered by the +enemy, the field-mice, under command of that able soldier, General +Squeako. He had pressed the glow-worms into his service, and they were +aiding him by their steady, phosphorescent light. + +Regiment after regiment of well-drilled field-mice does the +frog-general see mustering for the fray, silently taking their +positions, endeavoring to extend their flank, lengthening out their +lines, which he fears will overlap his own. + +Fearing that his forces will be outflanked, like the cunning tactician +that he is, the frog-general determines on a ruse. Accordingly he +gives the order to his most valiant regiment to advance a company of +soldiers, accompanied by torch-bearers, beyond the extreme left wing of +the enemy, in order to make General Squeako think that there is to be +the attack. + +The mouse-general, however, being aware of his old friend Johnny’s +wily tricks, understands that this is only a ruse, and determining to +frustrate the attempt, immediately issues the order,-- + +“Glow-worms, shut lanterns, and columns advance upon the enemy under +cover of darkness.” + +The order is obeyed with military promptness, and not a mouse in the +ranks quails. At the same time his pickets return, confirming the +mouse-general’s opinion that the brilliancy and hubbub raised by the +frogs on the left wing is only a harmless band of fireflies and +a company of soldiers, and not an attacking division supported by +soldiers. + +In the mean time the pickets of the advancing mouse-columns hit upon +those of the frogs, who, being brilliantly illuminated, afford the mice +an opportunity to make an attack--which under cover of darkness on +their side is accomplished with great energy and dash--upon the centre +of the unsuspecting frog-army. + +The battle, now beginning in the centre, rages in earnest,--mouse +grapples frog, and frog grapples mouse in deadly contest; biting and +wrestling, kicking and scratching, the valiant combatants mingle in +terrible groups. + +The orderly lines are broken; the agonized squeaking of the mice, and +the dying “a-hungs” of the frogs, make night hideous. Both generals +urge on their forces from either wing, and the carnage becomes +universal. The orderly lines of fireflies change into disorderly clouds +of sparks; while the rear columns of the mice, taking advantage of the +confusion, advance to the battle-field, lighted by orderly bands of +steady glow-worms, driving back stragglers and deserters, to strengthen +the lines in front. + +For a time the fortunes of war tremble in the balance. The frogs, +forced to give way, are driven by the valiant mice to the edge of the +bog, and the more timid ones in the rear, thinking the battle lost, +spring into the water; but at that moment a deep-booming “a-hung!” is +heard amid the bull-rushes, where the valiant frog-general has removed +his staff; a million of lights illumine the swamp, and lo! as if by +magic, the reserves are seen issuing from the bog, swimming toward the +shore, and reinforcing the yielding lines. They repulse by renewed +attack the mouse-centre, through which they threaten to break. + +It was the water-rat who had by his advice aided the frog-reserves; and +during the engagement the shrewd old fellow had squatted behind the +bog, and taken in every movement of both parties. Confident that owing +to the secrecy employed by the frogs the field-mice would be taken +unawares and unprepared, great was his astonishment to find General +Squeako’s division so well organized and generalled. Not a little +uneasiness did he feel, as the contest progressed, and the field-mice +forced the frog-army back to the bog. + +The mouse-forces also had their reserves waiting for the word of +command to advance; and the word was given at the proper moment by the +astute Squeako, the columns moving in double-quick time to the edge of +the bog, where the battle was raging indecisively. The hitherto orderly +retreat of the frogs was turned into an ignominious stampede. Leaping +and plunging into the bog by thousands, the water fairly foamed. Those +in the rear, in their frantic efforts to reach the water’s edge, jumped +upon the struggling mass in front, crushing many, and tumbling them +about in confusion. All those who were not incapacitated, safely dived +into the water out of reach of the mice, who stood squeaking with joy +and exultation on the edge of the bog. + +Thus ended the great battle between the mice and the frogs. Those of +the frogs that remained alive having escaped in safety, General Squeako +ordered a retreat, and dismissed his troops at the edge of the wood. + +While this terrible battle was raging, Ruffina, being apprised by her +husband that the frogs were in readiness to move on the enemy, made +her preparations accordingly. With great anxiety she waited until the +decisive hour arrived, bustling about nervously meanwhile inside her +den, and making frequent excursions to the entrance, where she turned +her sharp eyes anxiously on the large red moon that was slowly settling +down to the tops of the forest trees. As soon as the last spot of red +disappeared, and the woods were enveloped in darkness, after carefully +inspecting little Fluff, who lay curled up in his corner fast asleep, +and making sure that his slumber was deep, Ruffina issued cautiously +forth. + +The sharp-witted little bat Flipwing you may be sure was aware of +everything that took place in the neighborhood of the little prisoner, +whom he had pledged himself to rescue. From his hiding-place near by he +saw the old miser’s wife depart, and, watching her movements until she +disappeared into the woods, he at once flew down to the entrance of the +old rat’s den, and putting his head inside the opening, gently called +the squirrel’s name. + +Poor little Fluff, weakened by grief and hardships, was sleeping +soundly, and dreaming of the happy home that was once his. In his +dreams he was again at play with his brothers and sister, frisking over +the tall trees, and jumping from bough to bough. It was no wonder that +when he heard his name called, he considered it as a part of his dream, +for Flipwing’s pleasant voice was a striking contrast to Ruffina’s +shrill, scolding tones, and the miser’s harsh voice. So little Fluff +slept on until the call was repeated several times. + +Gradually the little prisoner awoke to the reality that he was in the +old rat’s den, and that a voice very unlike Ruffina’s or her husband’s +was calling him. + +“Fluff, wake up!” he now distinctly heard; and starting to his feet, he +was wide awake in an instant. + +“Who calls me?” asked the little squirrel, timidly, for the voice was a +new one, and the hope he had at first entertained of friends coming to +his relief had long since deserted him. + +“No matter who I am; you don’t know me, but I come from your friends. +Ruffina is away, and if you are ever to escape, now is the time. So +hurry and come out.” + +Fluff looked anxiously toward the place where Ruffina usually slept, +and it was indeed empty. So severe, however, had been the little +prisoner’s experiences since his capture, that he had lost faith in +everybody; and now how could he tell but that this was a ruse of +Ruffina to try him? And if he were retaken, what frightful consequences +would ensue! + +Thus reasoned Fluff; and meanwhile the stranger outside was entreating +him to come out. + +“You will never have another such chance,” urged the voice, “and our +time is short; so make haste, if you value your freedom.” + +Although reduced to a condition of misery and despair by his +imprisonment, as Fluff heard these words some of his old energy +returned to him. + +“Nothing can be worse than my present condition,” reasoned the poor +little squirrel, “and now that I have the chance offered me, I will +take it;” and he crawled to the opening of the den. Although he had +never seen the little bat before, after one look at his honest face he +unhesitatingly followed him. + +The fresh air, of which he had been so long deprived, infused hope and +courage into the little captive’s heart, and he exerted himself to +the utmost to keep pace with his guide; but so cramped had been the +quarters in the den that the legs once so strong and active were now +weak and tremulous, and progress was slow and uncertain. How different +was it from the bounds and leaps Fluff made when in imagination he +found himself once more free! + +“Have patience, and we’ll soon be there,” said Flipwing, kindly, as he +noticed the squirrel’s efforts. “We are safe now,--all the water-rats +in the world couldn’t get you; but let me advise you not to venture so +far from home in future.” + +“You may be sure of that,” replied Fluff, decidedly; “once let me reach +home, that’s all!” + +Now familiar landmarks began to present themselves to the little +squirrel,--trees over which he had run, and stumps beneath which he had +hidden; and his tired feet grew lighter at the sight. + +There it was at last, the dear old tree, beneath which was the warm +nest he never expected to see again; and giving a loud chirrup of joy, +in sprang the lost Fluff, and in an instant was nestling against his +mother’s soft breast. + + * * * * * + +To return to Ruffina. As has been stated, she left the den, and entered +the forest. The darkness that followed the setting of the moon was just +what she desired for her expedition, and she chuckled to herself as she +proceeded. + +The families of the mice-soldiers had all repaired to the edge of the +wood, that they might watch the contest going on in the meadow, and +their homes were deserted. This, however, made little difference to +Ruffina, for the large water-rat was more than a match for a whole +family of little field-mice. + +How Ruffina’s eyes glistened, as in the first home she entered, her +eyes fell on stores of grain laid by for the next winter’s use! + +“First of all, I’ll fill myself just as full as I can,” said Ruffina, +“for Rough will not give me anything of what I bring home,--he’ll keep +it all to trade with;” and the half-famished creature helped herself to +the rich food before her until she had made a heartier meal than had +fallen to her lot since she united her fortunes to those of the old +miser. + +When she could eat no more, Ruffina stopped, and was startled to find +how little remained of the former piles of grain. + +“No matter,” said the water-rat to herself; “there are many more places +as good as this, and now that I’ve had a good supper I can work all +the faster. I’ll go next to Squeako’s,--they say he’s got more stored +away than all the rest put together. I mustn’t forget, though, to do as +Rough told me;” and she tore apart with her strong paws the carefully +made beds, scattering the contents about. + +Very near was the den where the mouse-general lived, and that, too, was +deserted. Quite grand and spacious were the long passageways leading +to the main dwelling-room. Ruffina was familiar with the plan adopted +by both rats and mice in the construction of their dwellings, and the +home of the wealthy General Squeako did not differ from the rest, +except that the passageways diverging from the main entrance were more +spacious and numerous than in the homes of the poorer mice. + +Ruffina entered one of these passages, and proceeded at once to the +interior of the den. Very large and high was this room; and the +water-rat’s sharp eyes at once detected piles of grain recently stored, +and scraps of meat and pork so tempting, that in spite of her recent +hearty repast, she could not resist the temptation of nibbling. She +knew, however, that her time was short; so she began at once to carry +out the stores and deposit them in a place of safety, until the old +miser should find time to remove them. + +While busily engaged in her work, Ruffina heard a slight rustling at +the entrance of the cave. This did not disturb her, however, for she +knew she was more than a match for the mouse-general himself, so she +carelessly turned her head in the direction of the sound. + +In an instant Ruffina’s whole manner changed, and a violent trembling +seized her. The new-comer was no timid mouse; the wary water-rat knew, +before his head appeared, that the deadliest enemy of her tribe, the +weasel, was before her. + +Completely paralyzed with fear, Ruffina stood as if in a nightmare, +her shaking limbs rooted to the ground, as her pursuer came wriggling +silently toward her. As if bound by a spell did the old rat stand, +her eyes riveted on the long, flexible body and pitiless eyes of her +enemy,--without power to stir, until he approached near enough to give +the final spring. Then, and not till then, did the terrified water-rat +give vent to a squeal of terror, and with a gigantic effort, leap +toward the opening of the cavern. + +Directly behind the old water-rat was the weasel. She felt his +presence, although she dared not look behind, and she knew his steady +progress would enable him to keep pace with, or perhaps overreach, +her nervous leaps. Once outside the cave, she stopped but for a +second, to observe the situation, and then, true to the instinct of +self-preservation implanted in every one of God’s creatures, she +started for her native element, the stream! + +Thanks to the hearty meal she had just eaten, Ruffina was enabled to +make a great effort. Through the white mist that enveloped the meadow, +the irregularly gleaming sparks of the fireflies and the steady lights +of the glow-worms, that she descried in the neighborhood of the bog, +convinced her that the battle was raging in that quarter; and as she +came nearer, the squeaks of wounded field-mice, and mournful “a-hungs” +of disabled frogs, fell on her ears. All at once a loud hoot was heard, +and she beheld the fierce Blinkeye hovering over the battle-field, +watching for an opportunity to seize his prey. + +With the weasel in the rear and Blinkeye above, Ruffina felt her +chances of escape lessening; and driven to desperation, she gathered +together all her strength, and with a few prodigious leaps gained the +stream, into which she sprang, and was hidden from view beneath its +protecting waters. + + + + +[Illustration: “As the officer spoke, the Widow O’Warty, who had been +sitting erect, gave a loud croak, and rolled once more upon her back.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE CHAPERON. + + +While the battle was tumultuously raging, besides old Rough the miser +there was another interested spectator, a very humble and timid +one,--the little brown frog Brownella. Since the faithless tenor had +departed, her life had been a lonely one, for she was deserted by +her former friends, who so short a time before had professed such +admiration for the distinguished foreigner; and worse than all, her +former admirer, Johnny the basso, treated her with marked indifference. + +In vain did Brownella sing her most melodious songs until her voice +was hoarse, and use all her arts to please the recreant basso; but the +admiration she once scorned was not to be regained at will, and her +former friend treated her advances with stony indifference. + +With the perverseness which is said by some to characterize her sex, +what she had once despised, now that it was not to be had, became very +desirable, and Brownella determined to win back the affections she had +lost. + +Very imposing and grand was the military appearance of General Johnny, +as he prepared for the coming battle; and as Brownella watched the +frog-forces gathering in the meadow on the eventful night, such a +longing to witness the conflict seized her, that she resolved to follow +them and secrete herself where she could overlook the battle-field, and +indulge in a stolen view of the valiant frog-general. + +Speeding toward the place of rendezvous, the little brown frog, passing +the abode of the Widow O’Warty, found that personage seated, as was +her custom, in her doorway, and watching with great interest the +frog-soldiers hurrying by. + +“And phere is it yourself is afther going?” asked the good-natured +widow, as the little brown frog was passing. + +“For a little stroll this fine warm night,” answered Brownella, +evasively. + +“It’s a sthroll in the direction av the bog, I suspicion,” replied the +widow, slyly, “to view the military.” + +“Well, and what if it is?” asked Brownella. “I don’t know as there is +any law to prevent me from going there if I like.” + +“It’s the law of dacency that should prevint ye,” answered the widow, +in a reproving tone. “The scane of war an’ bloodshed is not intinded +for a young cratur like yourself. It’s bould an’ forward ye would be +accounted.” + +“Oh, bother!” replied Brownella, impatiently; “who cares what it’s +accounted! I’m going, and that settles the matter;” and off she started +once more. + +“Sthop!” cried the widow. “It’s meself that cannot see a young cratur +laying herself open to cinsure in this way. Is it a stidy, sinsible +fri’nd ye possess, who would be willing to accompany ye?” + +The little brown frog reflected a moment. After all it would be +pleasanter to have a friend with her; and who so desirable a chaperon +as the good-natured widow, who would wish to see whatever was going on? +So she replied that if the Widow O’Warty would go with her in that +capacity, it would be very satisfactory. + +“Sich was not me intintion,” replied the widow. “Bloodshed and war +have no charms for meself; but since it’s detarmined to go ye are, +I conc’ave it me juty to accompany ye, an’ it’s willin’ to make a +sacrifice I am;” and casting a glance about to see that all was right +in her home, the chaperon hopped willingly away with her young charge. + +In fact, the widow was not making the sacrifice she pretended, but +was secretly glad of an excuse to witness the battle, about which her +curiosity was greatly excited. + +In due time the two friends arrived on the scene of action, the widow +somewhat out of breath and heated, but otherwise in good condition; +and the pair chose a position midway between the knoll which was the +headquarters of the frog-general and the bog where he had stationed his +reinforcements. + +With her little heart beating with pride and affection, Brownella +watched the martial figure on the knoll giving his orders to his +aids-de-camp, the fireflies; and she followed them with her eyes as the +shining sparks flew back and forth on their commissions. Quite excited +too did the widow become, as her eyes roamed about in all directions. + +Then came the mouse party, moving silently in a solid phalanx from +the outskirts of the wood, the steady lights of the glow-worms +scintillating among the tall meadow grass and lighting up the dusky +forms of the mouse-soldiers. + +“He’s a foine gineral, is Squeako, an’ it’s an iligant appearance they +presint,” exclaimed the widow, enthusiastically. + +“They are not half so nice as _our_ soldiers,” replied Brownella, +warmly,--“great brown awkward things, with those tiresome glow-worms. +Our fireflies are ever so much finer, flashing about like so many +diamonds. The horrid things won’t stand a shadow of a chance against +our well-trained soldiers.” + +“Me sympathies are wid the frog-forces; but me judgemint tells me that +the throops of Gineral Squeako are will conducted, an’ we’ll know +whin the ind comes which side is the sthrongest,” replied the widow, +majestically. + +“We shall know long before then,” replied Brownella, impetuously. “Oh, +the horrid, creeping things! how disgusting they are!” + +In their eagerness not to lose sight of any of the events happening +about them, the two spectators pressed eagerly forward, forgetting in +their excitement the dangers attending a battle-field; and when the +conflict was at its height, their prudence completely forsook them; +and as the dying groans of the wounded fell on their ears, they pressed +still nearer, to ascertain if any friends were among the slain or +wounded. + +At this moment, on came the frog-reinforcements from the bog, steadily +and surely, like the well disciplined soldiers they were, right toward +the spot where the little brown frog and her chaperon were anxiously +scanning the features of the wounded heroes; when, all at once, came +the order to charge, and on went the valiant frog-soldiers, their blood +coursing hotly through their veins with the warlike spirit that was +within them, and ferocity gleaming from every feature. + +Not until late did Brownella and her chaperon perceive the solid force +bearing down upon them; and Brownella, aided by her youth and agility, +in a few dexterous leaps gained a place of safety, as the troops swept +by. + +Not so the chaperon. Too late did she become aware of the danger that +threatened her, and seeing the ferocious expression of the thousands of +eyes coming toward her, her presence of mind completely deserted her, +and she sank on the spot, transfixed with terror. She opened her mouth +to give vent to the pent-up anguish of her soul, but no sound escaped +her; and even before the phalanx was upon her, the terrified chaperon +rolled helplessly upon her back, where she lay convulsively kicking, +while the feet of the charging soldiers passed over her ample form. + +When the troops had passed, Brownella looked anxiously about for her +missing chaperon, and soon discovered her lying on her back, the +convulsive motions of her legs alone showing that life remained to her. + +“Speak to me, dear Widow O’Warty,” cried Brownella, distractedly. “Tell +me you are not injured!” + +Renewed convulsions on the widow’s part was the only answer. + +Placing her forepaws under the stout body of her chaperon, Brownella +with great effort managed to roll her upon one side, where she lay +kicking; but the widow was heavy and Brownella was slender, and with +no amount of pushing could the little brown frog roll the solid mass +any farther. The instant Brownella, from sheer exhaustion, removed the +support of her slender paws, the chaperon rolled once more upon her +broad back, where she lay convulsed as before. + +“It’s all my fault! she came here against her will to please me,” +groaned Brownella, with great self-reproach. “Oh, never in the world +shall I forgive myself! Do speak, dearest Widow O’Warty, if only to +reproach me with my thoughtlessness!” + +“It’s kilt entirely I am!” moaned the widow, faintly. “Oh, me poor +bones!” + +“Where are you injured?” asked the distressed Brownella. “In what place +do you feel the most pain?” + +“It’s crushed from the crown of me h’id to the sowls of me f’ate I am,” +groaned the widow, as she struggled to a sitting posture; “niver agin +shall I be the cratur I was afore!” + +“What’s the matter?” croaked a voice from behind, and an officer of the +frog-army appeared. + +As the officer spoke, the Widow O’Warty, who had been sitting erect, +gave a loud croak, and rolled once more over upon her back, the +convulsions returning with renewed energy. + +“She’s dead, and I’ve killed her!” shrieked the weeping Brownella. + +“Oh, if it was something to soostain me I had, if ’twas only a dhrop of +wather!” moaned the widow. + +“Is this the old toad we ran over just now?” asked the soldier. + +“Yes, and you’ve killed her!” answered Brownella, distractedly. + +“Don’t you believe it,” said the soldier, cheerfully. “She isn’t hurt; +she’s overcome by fright, that’s all.” + +“_Fright_ is it?” exclaimed the widow, suddenly reviving and assuming +a sitting posture. “Fright is it ye mane? Indade, an’ it’s a foine way +to be talking to a body that’s kilt;” and her large eyes glared at the +audacious new-comer with indignation. + +“Oh, come, come, old lady, you’re not killed, that’s evident; but +perhaps you are a little stunned.” + +“Auld lady! stunned!” repeated the widow, hysterically. “It’s not so +auld I am but that I know an auld fool whin I see him.” + +The valiant officer, who had been through many a battle without +flinching, quailed before the indignant countenance of the exasperated +widow, and without casting a glance behind him, turned and actually +fled! + +As for the widow, her wounded pride tended to infuse energy into her +listless frame; and under its reviving influence, she forgot her +injuries, and betook herself homeward, giving expression at intervals +to her indignation. + + * * * * * + +We will return to Ruffina, whom we left concealed from her enemy by the +dark waters of her native stream. On she swam, until she reached a spot +parallel with the den in which she had left her charge, little Fluff. +Casting searching glances about her, to discover if her pursuer were in +sight, and satisfying herself that all was safe, she left the water, +and approached her abode. + +Entering the den, the old water-rat looked about her, to assure herself +that all was right; but the corner in which the little squirrel’s form +usually lay at night was empty. Ruffina passed a paw over her eyes +to clear her vision, and looked again. No, she was not mistaken, the +corner was indeed empty. + +With feverish haste Ruffina tore apart the dried leaves that had formed +little Fluff’s bed, as if she expected to find concealed beneath them +him whom she sought. In vain was her search, for at that very moment +little Fluff was curled up by his mother’s side, fast asleep. + +Not a nook or cranny did Ruffina fail to search, and at last gave up +the attempt as useless. Emerging from the den, she stationed herself +before the entrance, and gazed frantically around her for some trace +of the missing Fluff; but not a sign of him did she discern. Almost +crazed at the thought of the swift vengeance that would follow the old +miser’s knowledge of the defeat of his plans for robbing the mice, and +the disappearance of his prisoner, she tried to form some plan for her +safety. + +Ruffina well knew that her husband would vent on her the disappointment +these losses would cause him, for such was his amiable custom. What +could she say, and what could she do? As she sat trying to bring her +bewildered thoughts into order, troops of returning mouse-soldiers +passed her door on their way to their homes. They were eagerly +discussing the events of the battle; and by degrees it dawned on her +dull senses that the fate of the conflict was decided, and that the +frogs were defeated. And Rough wanted them to beat! + +This thought, on top of the two other misfortunes, was the last straw +to poor Ruffina’s already heavy burden; and with a loud squeal of +despair she rushed wildly away, intent only on escaping from the +vengeance of the hard old miser; and never more was she heard from. +Let us hope that she found a safe retreat, where, far from the old +miser’s influence, she may lead a more useful and better life. + +We will not dwell on such an unpleasant subject as the rage of old +Rough when he discovered the true state of affairs. With his propensity +for thinking the worst of everybody, he concluded that his wife had +run off with the stores she had obtained from the mice, and was living +on them in some safe retreat luxuriously and happily. For a time he +searched for his missing wife; but as day after day passed and no +Ruffina appeared, he gave up the search. + +These bitter disappointments did not tend to sweeten the temper of +the old water-rat. Harder than ever did he press upon the little +field-mice, who he considered owed him a bounty for living on his +premises; more than ever did he exact from them, and many were the +depredations he committed upon his neighbors of the woods and meadow. + +He seemed to feel that he must make these innocent creatures +responsible for his losses, and he was more dreaded than ever before. + + + + +[Illustration: “Each seized an ear of the old water-rat and held him +fast with his strong beak.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE CHARM. + + +For a short time after her mishap on the battle-field, the Widow +O’Warty was not in her usual good-humor; but anger with one of her +sanguine temperament is short lived; so before long the recollection of +her wrongs faded away, and she regained her usual amiability. + +The widow recalled the little brown frog’s devotion to her at the time +she was trampled upon by those thousands of feet, the recollection of +which would always cause a cold shiver to run down her spine; she also +remembered Brownella’s frantic appeals to her for some sign that she +still lived. All this was very soothing to the widow’s feelings, and +pleasant to dwell upon. + +“An’ the poor little thing has throuble enough of her own,” said +the widow to herself; “and it’s mesilf that will aid her wid me own +ixparience.” + +So, acting on this resolution, the widow sought the little brown frog, +whom she found in a most dejected condition. + +“It’s mesilf that will be afther giving ye the good advice,” said the +good-natured widow, “for it’s throuble of the same kind mesilf has +had. It’s the gineral ye want, me dear, ye can’t conc’ale it.” + +“But he doesn’t want me,” sobbed Brownella. “Once he couldn’t think +enough of me; and now, although I try with all my might to please him, +he takes every occasion to show how he despises me.” + +“That’s jist it,” replied the widow, seriously; and in her eagerness +she hopped closer to the little brown frog. “Ye’re afther thrying too +much to pl’ase him.” + +“How can that be?” asked Brownella; “isn’t it natural to try to please +those we like?” + +“Av coorse it is,” answered the widow; “but whin it’s more ixparience +ye have, ye’ll find that the ither sex place no value on what they +obtain without pains. What they have throuble to get is swate to thim.” + +“That seems strange,” said Brownella. “I can’t understand it; but +I believe there is truth in what you say, for when I was rude and +avoided him, Johnny the basso followed me everywhere.” + +“I tould ye so,” replied the widow, triumphantly. “Now listen, till I +relate the charrm I used with O’Warty. ’Twas tould to me by an auld +toad who was wan of the wisest craturs that iver lived, an’ me own +grandmither, askin’ your pardin.” + +“Oh! do tell me,” cried Brownella, eagerly. “I will do anything you +say.” + +“Well,” began the widow in a low and mysterious tone, “come near till +me, for not to a living sowl have I iver afore bra’thed the charrm. +It’s a dark night ye must choose, whin neither moon nor stars are in +the heavens; and whin ye approach the gineral’s dwilling it’s backwards +ye must hop, and repate a charrm for the spirit of the woods:-- + + “‘Spirit of the wood and dell, + Weave for me a fairy spell. + Weave it strong, and weave it true, + Grain of sand and drop of dew, + Till it change my true love cold, + Make him love me as of old.’ + +“Thin whin ye have arrived forninst the dwilling, it’s on the big toe +of the right hind foot ye must sthand, an’ wid the lift front foot +(mind it’s the _lift_), schrape up a thrifle of wather an’ mud from the +brook, an’ throw it into the countenance of the gineral, rep’ating at +the same time the following verse:-- + + “‘Splisher, splasher, on one toe, + Fairy spell o’er thee I throw. + Be once more my own true love, + Never more from me to rove. + Splisher, splasher, on one toe, + Fairy spell o’er thee I throw.’ + +If ye follow the directions the charrm will work; an’ it’s good luck I +wishes ye,” added the widow. + +The little brown frog was profuse in her thanks for this valuable +secret; and while she is waiting for a dark night to carry out the +widow’s instructions, we will follow the fortunes of other friends. + + * * * * * + +Little Fluff was so happy to be at home again that you may be sure +he did not venture far away; and the fear that old Rough would seek +him out and again imprison him was so strong, that for some time he +imagined every rustling of the leaves, or sighing of the wind through +the trees, to be the old miser coming in search of him. Gradually +this feeling wore away, as day after day passed and old Rough did not +appear, for Fluff was by nature bold and fearless. + +For some time after the little squirrel’s return, he and his brothers +and sister did not venture off the tree beneath which their house +stood; but by degrees they extended their playground, and raced over +the neighboring trees, and hid among the rocks and stumps as before, +taking care, however, not to go out of sight of home. It is hardly +necessary to add that the old squirrels were as apprehensive as the +younger ones, and since the dreadful day when Fluff was captured, never +left their home unguarded, one always remaining to watch the little +brood. + +One warm, sunny afternoon, Squirrella sat in her doorway watching her +little ones at play, thinking, as they raced about, that nowhere in +the world could four other little squirrels be found with such bright +eyes and such bushy tails. Up and down the tallest trees ran the happy +little ones, jumping from bough to bough and from tree to tree, an +occasional shrill chirrup from Squirrella warning them when the leap +was too venturesome. Every thought of old Rough was forgotten by the +frolicsome little creatures. + +No one could have seen the innocent things sporting among the green +leaves, or sitting on their little haunches, with their bright eyes +shining with merriment and their bushy tails tilted over their striped +backs, without thinking it would be difficult to find a more pleasing +picture. Their brisk little chirrups, too, rang through the still woods +in response to Squirrella’s anxious calls; and timid little Bobtilla, +with her young family about her, appeared at _her_ door, and watched +the frolics with great interest. + +The excitement of the game was at its height, and Fluff’s old +venturesome spirit returned in full force, when a sudden impulse seized +him to play a trick upon his companions; so he quickly slipped behind +an old stump, where he waited, hoping soon to hear them calling to him, +and laughing to himself all the while. + +Fluffs absence was soon discovered, and loudly and eagerly did his name +resound from the shrill voices of his playmates. This was great fun for +the mischief-loving Fluff, who kept as still as a mouse, for fear his +hiding-place would be discovered. Before long, however, he heard his +mother’s anxious call, and his merriment suddenly ceased; for at the +sound of her distressed chirrup came the recollection of those dreary +days of imprisonment in the old miser’s dark den, and he hastened to +assure her of his safety. + +Fluff turned quickly to leave his hiding-place, and was about to utter +a shrill cry of joy, when a dark shadow suddenly stood between him and +the light, and the huge form and savage countenance of old Rough, with +his long, sharp teeth and cruel black eyes was before him. The cry that +was on Fluff’s lips died away; and trembling from head to foot, he +stood transfixed by the power of that cruel face. + +“Aha!” squeaked the old rat, with a vicious grin. “I’ve caught you +at last, have I? I haven’t watched you for nothing all these days, I +can tell you. I knew a heedless little fool like you would venture +off before long. This time, my young friend, you will not get away so +easily; old Rough isn’t caught in the same trap twice, let me tell you. +Come along, youngster!” + +As the old rat approached, Fluff found voice, and his terrified +cries rang through the silent wood, to be answered immediately by +the agitated calls of his anxious family, and the fainter squeaks of +Bobtilla’s sympathetic children. + +“Come along, I say,” repeated old Rough, approaching the poor little +squirrel. + +“I won’t!” screamed Fluff, boldly, for the answering cries came nearer +and nearer, and what child does not believe that its mother’s love is +capable of saving it from the most powerful enemy? Fluff had the utmost +confidence in his mother’s power; and as her sharp cries came nearer +and nearer, all his boldness returned, and he fearlessly faced his +enemy. + +“Go away, I tell you!” cried Fluff, valiantly, “or it will be the worse +for you when my mother catches you! Here I am, Mother, right behind +this old stump!” + +“Little idiot!” snarled the old rat, “do you suppose a dozen such +feeble creatures as your mother could intimidate me? Take that for your +insolence in daring to oppose me!” + +A piercing cry rang out as the old rat’s sharp teeth penetrated Fluff’s +tender skin. The cry was immediately answered not only by the shrill +tones of the squirrel family, and the distressed squeaks of Bobtilla, +but by loud and harsh caws, and the two young crows lighted behind the +old water-rat. + +“Come, let the youngster alone!” demanded the elder of the crows. “Run +home, Sonny,” he added to Fluff. + +“He’d better not,” snarled old Rough, savagely, “he’d better not. As +for you, you impudent fellows, I advise you to mind your own business, +and not interfere in what doesn’t concern you. Be off, I say!” + +“We’re in no hurry, thank you,” pertly answered the younger crow; “and +as for attending to our own business, why, we haven’t any on hand just +now, and we have plenty of time to settle this matter,--so don’t make +yourself uneasy on our account. Come, Sonny, hurry home; your anxious +mamma is looking for you.” + +Fluff needed no second bidding, but made a sudden rush by old Rough; +the latter, however, was on the alert, and as the little squirrel +was in the act of passing him, fastened his sharp, strong paws in +Fluff’s furry back. In another moment his long teeth would have buried +themselves in Fluff’s neck, had not the crows with a sudden movement +come up behind, each seizing an ear of the old water-rat, and holding +him fast with his strong beak. + +At the same moment a flock of crows, attracted by the loud squeals +of the old water-rat, flew down and fiercely attacked him, until the +old miser wriggled himself free of his persecutors, and darting away, +followed by the loudly-cawing crows, he slipped into an empty hole, +where he secreted himself until the noisy band had departed. For once +in their lives, the two young crows had made themselves useful. + +This attempt to recapture the little squirrel was the absorbing topic +of conversation among the inhabitants of the meadow and surrounding +woods for some time to come. Indignation meetings were held, and many +were the complaints made against the disagreeable old miser. The +veteran Caw presided, for all felt great confidence in his sagacity if +they did not in his honesty. These meetings grew more and more frequent +as time wore on, and old Rough grew bolder after every success. + +“This state of affairs must end,” exclaimed an excited field-mouse. “We +are tired of seeing our homes laid waste and our families houseless.” + +“_Houseless!_” cackled a motherly looking hen from Farmer Smith’s +poultry-yard; “is that the worst he has done to you? What would you say +to having your children carried off before your very eyes, as he has +done with mine?” + +“And to be driven off when you are looking for food for your starving +families?” squeaked Bobtilla’s high voice. + +“Talking and complaining will not mend the matter,” croaked old Caw, +who had listened with his head shrewdly turned to one side, taking in +every word that had been uttered, “While you have been wasting time in +talking, I’ve been making up my mind as to the best means of stopping +it.” + +“How? Tell us how!” cried many eager voices. + +“Since old Rough is so powerful, and carries things with such a high +hand, meet him on his own ground, and confront him with an enemy who +inspires him with the same terror he does you.” + +“Who is there he is afraid of?” asked the hen who had before made her +complaint. “Who but Blinkeye is old Rough afraid of? And he is harmless +by daylight, and Rough knows enough to keep out of his way at night.” + +“Have you forgotten the terrible fight Rough had with the weasel, who +would have finished him, had not the farmer made his appearance when he +did?” asked old Caw in his deepest croak. + +“Oh!” cackled the hen, whose feathers stood up stiff with fright at the +remembrance of that dreadful scene; “but old Rough has not ventured +near the premises since,--he is too shrewd for that.” + +“The weasel can go to him, can’t he?” croaked Caw. + +“To be sure,” assented all. “What a bright idea!” + +“The weasel can make his headquarters under the wall, not far from old +Rough’s den, and take his own time about the matter,” said Caw. + +This easy solution of the question was so satisfactory that the spirits +of the assembly rose suddenly, and all talked together in their +excitement. The cackling of the hen, the shrill squeaking of the mice, +and the croaks of the frogs and toads became so loud, that old Caw +interposed. + +“If you want to give old Rough notice of what is going to be done, keep +on talking, that is all; but if you want the plan to succeed, make less +noise about it,” he said briefly. + +Dead silence followed these words, the truth of which was so apparent; +and soon the friends separated, returning quietly to their homes, +secretly satisfied that old Caw was the wisest counsellor that ever +lived, and would prove more than a match for even old Rough. + +A few nights later, when the moon was hidden behind dark clouds, and +a heavy fog had settled over the meadow, a lithe form might have been +seen emerging from the direction of Farmer Smith’s barn, and under +cover of darkness gliding noiselessly toward old Rough’s abode. After +critically examining the stone wall that commanded a fine view of the +old miser’s den, it carefully selected a suitable opening, and in the +same noiseless manner wriggled out of sight. It was the weasel, to whom +old Caw had given instructions. + + + + +[Illustration: “He trembled with terror, and gave a shrill squeak of +agony, as the long lithe body of his enemy the weasel came into view.”] + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE SPELL IS BROKEN. + + +On the same night that the weasel took possession of his new quarters +under the stone wall, a very different scene was being enacted in the +neighborhood of the basso’s dwelling. Ever since the Widow O’Warty +had given her instructions how to win back the affection of her former +devoted friend, Brownella had watched eagerly for a night dark enough +to carry out her design. + +Never, it seemed to the impulsive Brownella, did the moon night after +night shine brighter and more persistently, and in her impatience +she began to think that it would always be thus. After long waiting, +however, to her great joy one night she perceived light clouds drifting +across the sky, for a few moments obscuring the brilliant moon; but +there she was again, shining brighter than ever, and it seemed to +Brownella’s excited imagination as if her usually placid countenance +wore a mocking expression, as if it would say, “I know you want me to +keep out of sight, but I am determined not to,”--and then on she sailed +again into the clearer sky, lighting up every corner and cranny of the +meadow. + +However, Brownella was not doomed to disappointment this time, for +before long up came cloud after cloud; and as fast as the moon emerged +from one, into another she went, until the whole heavens were suffused, +and not even a star was visible. + +Then did Brownella’s heart beat fast with joy, and also with some fear; +for now that the moment for which she had so long waited had arrived, +many doubts arose in her mind. What if the charm shouldn’t work? +And what if she should neglect to follow in every respect the Widow +O’Warty’s instructions? + +Agitated by her hopes and fears, Brownella hopped rapidly in the +direction of the basso’s dwelling. When within a short distance, she +stopped and listened. All was still; the rich bass notes that were so +musical to her ear were hushed; for the sensitive nature of the great +singer sympathized with Mother Nature, and when her face was shrouded +in darkness, his own spirits were affected likewise, and he remained +at home silent and sad. + +All the courage she possessed did Brownella summon to her aid, and +carefully did she repeat to herself the lines on which her future +happiness depended. When assured that she knew them accurately, +Brownella turned her back upon the abode of the singer, and hopping +backwards, repeated the following lines,-- + + “Spirit of the wood and dell, + Weave for me a fairy spell. + Weave it strong, and weave it true, + Grain of sand and drop of dew, + Till it change my true love cold, + Till he loves me as of old.” + +These lines did Brownella keep repeating until she reached the brook +that flowed in front of the basso’s dwelling, and where he was now +sitting; then, approaching him, and standing on the big toe of her +right hind foot, with the left fore foot she scraped up some of the +mud and water from the stream, and threw it into the face of the +astonished basso, saying,-- + + “Splisher, splasher, on one toe, + Fairy spell o’er thee I throw. + Be once more my own true love, + Never more from me to rove. + Splisher, splasher, on one toe, + Fairy spell o’er thee I throw.” + +This verse was answered by a resounding “a-hung!” uttered in the +deepest and tenderest tones of the basso-profundo’s voice, and +Brownella knew that the charm had done its work, and that the singer’s +heart was hers once more. + + * * * * * + +Leaving this happy pair, we will return to other scenes. + +Old Rough grew more miserly and ill-natured day by day. Everybody +avoided him, and he lived alone in his den, slinking around by himself, +adding constantly to the stores he had collected, and tyrannizing over +all with whom he came in contact. His countenance, never agreeable, +became every day more repulsive; his eyes seemed to grow smaller and +nearer together, and his nose longer and sharper, while his wrinkled +lips receded from the long, sharp teeth. + +Not a living creature approached the old miser, and he crouched in +his den, gloating over the vast wealth he possessed, and concocting +plans for gaining more. No longing for the companionship of his fellow +creatures ever stole over him in his solitude, and still less a regret +that he had done nothing to gain the respect and affection of any of +his neighbors. Not even a desire that Ruffina, who had served him so +faithfully, would return, did the sordid old fellow feel; his only wish +in regard to her was that he might obtain possession of the provisions +he supposed her to have carried off, and also to wreak vengeance on her +for his various disappointments. + +One night old Rough was out on one of his foraging expeditions, for +he always chose darkness for his depredations. A raw east wind was +blowing, and a drizzling rain was falling. Not a star was to be seen, +and only a dark mass against the sky showed in which direction the +woods lay. This was just the weather the old water-rat enjoyed, and he +was in particularly good spirits, for he had the day before overheard +a conversation between the two young crows, in which they spoke of +some very rare morsels they had concealed under a certain stone in the +woods. So accurately did they describe the spot that Rough could have +gone to it blindfolded; and he chuckled to himself with satisfaction +as he thought how shrewd he was, and how inexperienced the young crows +were. + +Shrewd as was the old water-rat, he little knew that the crows were +acting under the advice of one much shrewder and slyer than he,--none +other than the old crow Caw,--and that this conversation was merely a +trap, into which he readily fell. + +“The young thieves! I should like to watch their countenances when they +find that the treasure they hid with such care has been discovered,” +squeaked the old rat to himself, as he slid over the meadow toward the +wood. “This will help pay for the trick they played me in leading me +into that rascally weasel’s hole; but I’ve a nice little plan of my +own, youngsters, to make us even on that score. You’ll find it out in +due time.” + +Thus communing with himself, old Rough proceeded on his way, often +sitting upright and looking about him to see if all were safe, and +frequently poking his long nose about, in hope of finding something +that he could turn to account. In this manner he reached the wood, +where the darkness was even denser than outside; but this was all +the better for his purposes, and his spirits rose as he neared his +destination. + +On by the homes of the squirrels and Bobtilla, and of many other little +inhabitants of the forest, did the old rat go, and at his approach +many a mouse out in search of food ran trembling into its hole, hardly +daring to breathe, until the dreadful figure had passed. Only the bats +flitted fearlessly between the dense forest trees; but they had no +terrors for him. + +At last the old rat paused, and poked his long nose anxiously about. +Had he lost his way,--he who knew every bit of woodland and meadow +about? Or had those thievish young crows deceived him? This last +thought was not an agreeable one, and made his small black eyes twinkle +with malice, and his long teeth snap viciously together. + +As he squatted on his haunches, glancing through the darkness for some +landmark, a slight rustling of leaves attracted his attention. “Some +hedge-hog returning from Farmer Smith’s poultry-yard, or a clumsy +woodchuck,” muttered old Rough. + +He was mistaken; it was neither of the two; he trembled with terror, +and gave a shrill squeak of agony, as the long lithe body of his enemy +the weasel came into view. + + * * * * * + +The next day there was great rejoicing in the meadow and woods. The +crickets chirped their loudest; the katydids and locusts sang shriller +than ever before; the little mice ran squeaking about fearlessly in +the tall grass; the squirrels ran heedlessly over walls and trees, +loudly chirruping their joy,--all small creatures were doing their +best to express their delight that old Rough the miser would no +longer persecute them,--for the weasel had at last vanquished the +dreaded tyrant, and no more would they fear him. In the midst of this +rejoicing, a flock of crows perched on the tree that grew behind old +Rough’s former abode, and old Caw repeated with great solemnity,-- + + “‘War and strife, grief and woe, + Follow you where’er you go. + Never more shall you know rest + For weary feet and aching breast, + Till body round and lithe and long + Shall vanquish body thick and strong. + Then shall dawn a day of peace, + Then shall strife and sorrow cease.’” + +“Friends,” added old Caw, “the spell that has hung over the inhabitants +of this meadow and wood for so long a time is now broken. The ‘body +round and lithe and long’ _has_ at last ‘vanquished body thick and +strong,’ and no more need you dread the old miser’s power.” + +That evening when the moon rose over the woodland, and shone down on +the meadow, a gay throng came from bog and stream and wood. Choruses of +frogs and crickets and locusts filled the air, while the little mice +squeaked an accompaniment; hundreds of lively bats flitted in and out, +and fireflies and glow-worms lighted up the gay scene; for old Rough +the miser had disappeared forever, and the spell that had for so long +hung over them was at last broken. + + +THE END. + + + + +THE WINDS, THE WOODS, AND THE WANDERER. + + A FABLE FOR CHILDREN. By LILY F. WESSELHOEFT, author of “Sparrow the + Tramp,” and “Flipwing the Spy.” With Illustrations. 16mo. Cloth. + Price, $1.25. + +[Illustration: SPECIMEN CUT.] + +In the story of “The Winds, the Woods, and the Wanderer,” the author +has endeavored to depict an artistic temperament that is misunderstood +by the practical natures by which it is surrounded,--one that hears the +voice of the “dear Lord God,” as the Germans have it, speaking through +the rustling of the forest trees. This same artistic temperament the +untutored Indian youth possessed; and the two natures were drawn +together by the love of the beautiful that was implanted in the soul of +each, and that interpreted to them the voices of Nature which to others +are as a sealed book. + + ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston. + + + + + Transcriber’s note + + + Spelling and punctuation errors have been corrected. + Italics have been enclosed by underscores. + Small capitals have been capitalised. +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77858 *** |