



Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from
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[Illustration: Book Cover]




[Illustration: THE HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS PEOPLE

Mr. Crow, Mr. Turtle, Mr. '<DW53>, Mr. 'Possum, Mr. Robin, Mr. Squirrel,
Mr. Dog, Mr. Rabbit

THEN MR. DOG SAID: "I KNOW ALL ABOUT MENAGERIES, FOR I HAVE BEEN TO
ONE"]




THE HOLLOW TREE
SNOWED-IN BOOK

       *       *       *       *       *

BEING A CONTINUATION OF THE STORIES ABOUT
THE HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS PEOPLE


BY
ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE

AUTHOR OF
"THE HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS BOOK"


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
J. M. CONDE

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
MCMX




BOOKS BY
ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE

  THE HOLLOW TREE SNOWED-IN BOOK. Crown 8vo       $1.50
  THE SHIP-DWELLERS. Illustrated. 8vo       1.50
  THE TENT-DWELLERS. Illustrated. Post 8vo       1.50
  THE HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS BOOK. Illustrated. Post 8vo       1.50
  FROM VAN-DWELLER TO COMMUTER. Ill'd. Post 8vo       1.50
  LIFE OF THOMAS NAST. Ill'd. 8vo _net_       5.00

       *       *       *       *       *

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N. Y.


Copyright, 1910, by HARPER & BROTHERS




TO ALL DWELLERS IN
THE BIG DEEP WOODS OF DREAM




[Illustration: MAP OF THE HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS COUNTRY]




EXPLANATION OF MAP


The top of the map is South. This is always so with the Hollow Tree
People. The cross on the shelf below the edge of the world (where the
ladder is) is where Mr. Dog landed, and the ladder is the one brought by
Mr. Man for him to climb back on. The tree that Mr. Man cut down shows
too. The spot on the edge of the world is where the Hollow Tree People
sometimes sit and hang their feet over, and talk. A good many paths
show, but not all by a good deal. The bridge and plank near Mr. Turtle's
house lead to the Wide Grass Lands and Big West Hills. The spots along
the Foot Race show where Grandpaw Hare stopped, and the one across the
fence shows where Mr. Turtle landed. Most of the other things tell what
they are, and all the things are a good deal farther apart than they
look. Of course there was not room on the map for everything.




TO FRIENDS OLD AND NEW


I wonder if you have ever heard a story which begins like this: "Once
upon a time, in the far depths of the Big Deep Woods, there was a Big
Hollow Tree with three hollow branches. In one of these there lived a
'<DW53>, in another a 'Possum, and in the third a Big Black Crow."

That was the way the first story began in a book which told about the
Hollow Tree People and their friends of the Big Deep Woods who used to
visit them, and how they all used to sit around the table, or by the
fire, in the parlor-room down-stairs, where they kept most of their
things, and ate and talked and had good times together, just like
folk.[1]

And the stories were told to the Little Lady by the Story Teller, and
there were pictures made for them by the Artist, and it was all a long
time ago--so long ago that the Little Lady has grown to be almost a big
lady now, able to read stories for herself, and to write them, too,
sometimes.

But the Story Teller and the Artist did not grow any older. The years do
not make any difference to them. Like the Hollow Tree People they remain
always the same, for though to see them you might think by their faces
and the silver glint in their hair that they are older, it would not be
so, because these things are only a kind of enchantment, made to
deceive, when all the time they are really with the Hollow Tree People
in the Big Deep Woods, where years and enchantments do not count. It was
only Mr. Dog, because he lived too much with Mr. Man, who grew old and
went away to that Far Land of Evening which lies beyond the sunset,
taking so many of the Hollow Tree stories with him. We thought these
stories were lost for good when Mr. Dog left us, but that was not true,
for there came another Mr. Dog--a nephew of our old friend--and he grew
up brave and handsome, and learned the ways of the Hollow Tree People,
and their stories, and all the old tales which the first Mr. Dog did not
tell.

And now, too, there is another Little Lady--almost exactly like the
first Little Lady--and it may be that it is this Little Lady, after all,
who keeps the Artist and the Story Teller young, for when she thought
they might be growing older, and forgetting, she went with them away
from the House of Many Windows, in the city, to the House of Low
Ceilings and Wide Fireplaces--a queer old house like Mr. Rabbit's--built
within the very borders of the Big Deep Woods, where they could be
always close to Mr. '<DW53> and Mr. 'Possum and the Old Black Crow, and
all the others, and so learn all the new tales of the Hollow Tree.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _The Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book_, by the same author and
artist.




CONTENTS


                                                                    PAGE
  TO FRIENDS OLD AND NEW                                               7
  THE FIRST SNOWED-IN STORY                                           15
  MR. DOG AT THE CIRCUS                                               21
  THE SECOND SNOWED-IN STORY                                          39
  THE WIDOW CROW'S BOARDING-HOUSE                                     57
  THE FINDING OF THE HOLLOW TREE                                      71
  THE THIRD SNOWED-IN STORY                                           87
  THE FOURTH SNOWED-IN STORY                                         103
  THE "SNOWED-IN" LITERARY CLUB                                      119
  THE "SNOWED-IN" LITERARY CLUB--PART II                             143
  THE DISCONTENTED FOX                                               155
  MR. 'POSSUM'S GREAT STORY                                          173
  THE BARK OF OLD HUNGRY-WOLF                                        191
  AN EARLY SPRING CALL ON MR. BEAR                                   219
  MR. CROW'S GARDEN                                                  239
  WHEN JACK RABBIT WAS A LITTLE BOY                                  261
  A HOLLOW TREE PICNIC                                               273




ILLUSTRATIONS


  THE HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS PEOPLE                   _Frontispiece_
  MAP OF THE HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS COUNTRY                        4
  GATHERING NICE PIECES OF WOOD                                       17
  THE PANTRY IN THE HOLLOW TREE                                       24
  "SLIPPED IN BEHIND HIM WHEN HE WENT INTO THE TENT"                  29
  "HE LOOKED SMILING AND GOOD-NATURED, AND I WENT OVER TO ASK
    HIM SOME QUESTIONS"                                               31
  "GAVE ME AN EXTRA BIG SWING AND CRACK"                              35
  ALL AT ONCE HE HEARD A FIERCE BARK CLOSE BEHIND HIM                 43
  THEN I SUDDENLY FELT LIKE A SHOOTING-STAR                           47
  "THEN MR. DOG SAID, 'TELL ME ANOTHER'"                              49
  "AND DID ROLL OFF THE EDGE OF THE WORLD, SURE ENOUGH"               53
  "I SET OUT FOR HOME WITHOUT WAITING TO SAY GOOD-BYE"                55
  CAME CLATTERING DOWN RIGHT IN FRONT OF MR. DOG                      61
  SO THEN MR. DOG TRIED TO GET MR. 'POSSUM ON HIS SHOULDER            64
  HE WAS AN OLD BACHELOR AND LIKED TO HAVE HIS OWN WAY                67
  THEY SAW MR. CROW OUT IN THE YARD CUTTING WOOD FOR HIS
    MOTHER-IN-LAW                                                     69
  HAD TO STAY AT HOME AND PEEL POTATOES                               75
  LISTENED NOW AND THEN AT WIDOW CROW'S DOOR TO BE SURE SHE
    WAS ASLEEP                                                        79
  MR. 'POSSUM SAID HE'D JUST GET ON AND HOLD THE THINGS               81
  MR. 'POSSUM AND MR. '<DW53> TRIED TO PUT UP THE STOVE                 83
  MR. FOX SAID HE DIDN'T HAVE MUCH TO DO FOR A FEW MINUTES
    AND HE'D ACT AS JUDGE                                             93
  SAILING ALONG, JUST TOUCHING THE HIGHEST POINTS                     97
  AWAY WENT MR. TORTOISE, CLEAR OVER THE TOP RAIL                     99
  SET OUT FOR HOME BY A BACK WAY                                     101
  TRIED TO SPLICE HIS PROPERTY BACK IN PLACE                         107
  GRANDFATHER WOULD LIGHT HIS PIPE AND THINK IT OVER                 109
  SET UP HIS EARS AND WENT BY, LICKETY-SPLIT                         111
  "'GLAD TO SEE YOU,' SAID KING LION; 'I WAS JUST THINKING
    ABOUT HAVING A NICE RABBIT FOR BREAKFAST"                        113
  GOT AROUND THE TABLE AND BEGAN TO WORK                             125
  MR. 'POSSUM WANTED TO KNOW WHAT MR. RABBIT MEANT BY
    SPINNING THEIR TAILS                                             129
  MR. DOG SAID HE HAD MADE A FEW SKETCHES                            133
  MR. 'POSSUM SAID IT MIGHT BE A GOOD ENOUGH STORY, BUT IT
    COULDN'T BE TRUE                                                 137
  SO THEN MR. RABBIT SAID THEY MUST CHOOSE WHO WOULD BE "IT"         147
  MR. 'POSSUM HAD TO PUT ON THE HANDKERCHIEF AND DO MORE
    EXERCISING THAN ANY OF THEM                                      149
  WOULD FIND IT ON THE MANTEL-SHELF OR PERHAPS ON MR.
    CROW'S BALD HEAD                                                 152
  MR. 'POSSUM SAID HE HADN'T MEANT ANYTHING AT ALL BY WHAT
    HE HAD SAID ABOUT THE STORY                                      162
  AND SO THIS CAT GREW RICH AND FAT                                  164
  HIS CLERKS                                                         167
  A SOLEMN LOOK WAS IN HIS FACE                                      168
  QUOTH HE; "MY PRIDE IS SATISFIED; THIS KINGDOM BUSINESS
    DOES NOT PAY"                                                    171
  AUNT MELISSY HAD ARRANGED A BUNDLE FOR UNCLE SILAS, AND
    SHE HAD FIXED UP THE HIRED MAN TOO                               179
  DIDN'T LOOK AS IF SHE BELONGED TO THE REST OF OUR CROWD            181
  THE BALLOON WENT OVER THE WIDE BLUE WATER JUST AFTER IT
    GOT OUR FAMILY                                                   184
  MR. TURTLE SAID THAT WHAT MR. 'POSSUM HAD TOLD THEM WAS TRUE       189
  ONE DAY MR. CROW FOUND HE WAS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE BARREL OF
    EVERYTHING                                                       195
  THEN MR. <DW53> SLAMMED HIS DOOR                                     199
  MR. 'POSSUM SAID NOT TO MOVE, THAT HE WOULD GO AFTER A PIECE
    OF WOOD                                                          201
  HE WOULD SMOKE IN THE SUN WHEN THE MORNINGS WERE FAIR              203
  WITH A LOOK AND A SIGH THEY WOULD STAND AND BEHOLD                 204
  THE TASTIEST PASTRY THAT EVER WAS KNOWN                            205
  THEN TO STIR AND TO BAKE HE BEGAN RIGHT AWAY                       206
  THE GREEDY OLD RAVEN, BUT GREEDY NO MORE                           208
  LOOKED STRAIGHT AT MR. 'POSSUM AND SAID, "WHAT WAS THAT YOU
    WERE CHEWING JUST NOW?"                                          211
  THEY WENT ALONG, SAYING WHAT A NICE MAN THEY THOUGHT MR. BEAR WAS  224
  MR. BEAR MUST HAVE BEEN VERY TIRED AND GONE TO SLEEP RIGHT
    WHERE HE WAS                                                     226
  MR. '<DW53> SCRATCHED HIS BACK AGAINST A LITTLE BUSH                 234
  MR. RABBIT THANKED HIM FROM ACROSS THE RIVER                       237
  ONE SAID IT WAS ONE WAY AND THE OTHER THE OTHER WAY                247
  MR. CROW DECIDED TO THIN OUT A FEW OF JACK RABBIT'S THINGS         251
  MR. CROW WAS ALMOST AFRAID TO BRING ON THE SALAD                   255
  JACK RABBIT CAPERED AND LAUGHED ALL THE WAY HOME                   259
  TOOK HER PARASOL AND HER RETICULE AND A CAN OF BERRIES,
    AND STARTED                                                      265
  AND HE MADE SOME STRIPES, TOO--MOSTLY ON TOP OF THE STOVE          267
  LITTLE JACK KNEW PERFECTLY WELL THAT SHE WASN'T AT ALL PLEASED     269
  PROMISED NEVER TO DISOBEY HIS MOTHER AGAIN                         271
  AND HE TASTED OF THAT A LITTLE, TOO                                278
  MR. 'POSSUM LEANED HIS BACK AGAINST A TREE AND READ HIMSELF
    TO SLEEP                                                         280
  SO MR. 'POSSUM PROMISED, AND MR. '<DW53> UNTIED HIM                  282
  "AND WHAT DO YOU THINK THEY SAW?"                                  284




THE FIRST SNOWED-IN STORY




[Illustration: GATHERING NICE PIECES OF WOOD]




THE FIRST SNOWED-IN STORY

IN WHICH THE READER LEARNS TO KNOW THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE AND THEIR
FRIENDS, AND THE LITTLE LADY, AND THE STORY TELLER


Now this is the beginning of the Hollow Tree stories which the Story
Teller told the Little Lady in the queer old house which stands in the
very borders of the Big Deep Woods itself. They were told in the Room of
the Lowest Ceiling and the Widest Fire--a ceiling so low that when the
Story Teller stands upright it brushes his hair as he walks, and a fire
so deep that pieces of large trees do not need to be split but can be
put on whole. In the old days, several great-grandfathers back, as the
Hollow Tree People might say, these heavy sticks were drawn in by a
horse that came right through the door and dragged the wood to the wide
stone hearth.

It is at the end of New-Year's Day, and the Little Lady has been
enjoying her holidays, for Santa Claus found his way down the big stone
chimney and left a number of things she wanted. Now, when the night is
coming down outside, and when inside there is a heap of blazing logs and
a rocking-chair, it is time for the Story Teller. The Story Teller
generally smokes and looks into the fire when he tells a Hollow Tree
story, because the Hollow Tree People always smoke and look into the
fire when _they_ tell _their_ stories, and the Little Lady likes
everything to be "just the same," and the stories must be always told
just the same, too. If they are not, she stops the Story Teller and sets
him right. So while the Little Woman passes to and fro, putting away the
tea-things, the Story Teller lights his pipe, and rocks, and looks into
the fire, and holds the Little Lady close, and begins the Tales of the
Hollow Tree.

"Once upon a time," he begins--

"Once upon a time," murmurs the Little Lady, settling herself.

"Yes, once upon a time, in the old days of the Hollow Tree, when Mr. Dog
had become friends with the '<DW53> and the 'Possum and the Old Black Crow
who lived in the three hollow branches of the Big Hollow Tree, and used
to meet together in their parlor-room down-stairs and invite all their
friends, and have good times together, just like folk--"

"But they live there now, don't they?" interrupts the Little Lady,
suddenly sitting up, "and still have their friends, just the same?"

"Oh yes, of course, but this was one of the old times, you know."

The Little Lady settles back, satisfied.

"Go on telling, now," she says.

"Well, then, this was one of the times when all the Deep Woods People
had been invited to the Hollow Tree for Christmas Day, and were snowed
in. Of course they didn't expect to be snowed in. Nobody ever expects to
be snowed in till it happens, and then it's too late."

"Was that the Christmas that Mr. Dog played Santa Claus and brought all
the presents, and Mr. Squirrel and Mr. Robin and Mr. Turtle and Jack
Rabbit came over, and they all sat around the fire and ate things and
told nice stories? You said you would tell about that, and you never
did."

"I am going to tell it now, as soon as a Little Lady gets real still,"
says the Story Teller. So then the Little Lady _is_ real still, and he
tells the first snowed-in story, which is called:




MR. DOG AT THE CIRCUS




MR. DOG AT THE CIRCUS

THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE LEARN SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT ABOUT SHOWS


[Illustration: THE PANTRY IN THE HOLLOW TREE]

That was a great Christmas in the Hollow Tree. The '<DW53> and the 'Possum
and the Old Black Crow had been getting ready for it for a long time,
and brought in ever so many nice things to eat, which Mr. Crow had
cooked for them, for Mr. Crow is the best cook of anybody in the Big
Deep Woods. Then Mr. Dog had brought a lot of good things, too, which he
had borrowed from Mr. Man's house, so they had the finest Christmas
dinner that you can think of, and plenty for the next day when it would
be even better, because chicken and turkey and dressing and such things
are always better the next day, and even the _third_ day, with gravy,
than they are when they are first cooked.

Then, when they were all through and were standing around, smoking their
new pipes and looking at each other's new neckties and other Christmas
things, Mr. Crow said that he and Mr. Squirrel would clear off the table
if the others would get in some wood and stir up the fire and set the
room to rights, so they could gather round and be comfortable by-and-by;
and then, he said, it might snow as much as it liked as long as they had
plenty of wood and things to eat inside.

So then they all skurried around getting on their things to go out after
wood--all except Mr. Crow and Mr. Squirrel, who set about clearing off
the table and doing up the dishes. And pretty soon Mr. Dog and Mr. <DW53>
and the rest were hopping about where the snow was falling so soft and
silent among the big, leafless trees, gathering nice pieces of wood and
brushing the snow off of them and piling them into the first down-stairs
of the Hollow Tree, which the '<DW53> and 'Possum and Old Black Crow use
for their wood-house and general store-room. It was great fun, and they
didn't feel the least bit cold after their warm dinner and with all that
brisk exercise.

Mr. Robin didn't help carry the wood in. He was hardly strong enough for
that, but he hopped about and looked for good pieces, and when he found
one he would call to Mr. '<DW53> or Mr. 'Possum, or maybe to one of the
others, to throw it on his shoulder and carry it in, and then he would
tell whoever it happened to be how strong he was and how fine he looked
with that great chunk on his shoulder, and would say that he didn't
suppose there was another '<DW53>, or 'Possum, or Turtle, or Rabbit, or
Dog that could begin to stand up straight under such a chunk as that
anywhere outside of a menagerie. Mr. Robin likes to say pleasant things
to his friends, and is always popular. And each one tried to carry the
biggest load of wood to show how strong he was, and pretty soon they had
the lower room of the Hollow Tree piled up high with the finest chunks
and kindling pieces to be found anywhere. Then they all hurried
up-stairs, stamping the snow off their feet, and gathered around the
nice warm fire in the big parlor which was just below the three big
hollow branches where the '<DW53> and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow had
their rooms.

Mr. Crow and Mr. Squirrel were through with the table by this time, and
all hands lit their pipes, and looked into the fire, and smoked, and
rested, and thought a little before they began talking--thinking, of
course, of what a good time they were having, and how comfortable and
nice it was to be inside and warm when such a big snow was falling
outside.

Mr. 'Possum was the first one to say anything. He said he had been
thinking of what Mr. Robin had said about them being outside of a
menagerie, and that, come to think about it, he believed he didn't know
what a menagerie was, unless it was a new name for a big dinner, as that
was the only thing he could think of now that they were outside of, and
he said if that was so, and if he could get outside of two menageries,
he thought he could carry in a bigger chunk than any two chunks there
were down-stairs.

Then all the others laughed a good deal, and Mr. '<DW53> said he had
thought that perhaps a menagerie was something to wear that would make
anybody who had it on very strong, and able to stand up under a big
load, and to eat as much as Mr. 'Possum could, or even more.

But Mr. Robin said that it didn't mean either of those things. He said
he didn't really know what it did mean himself, but that it must be some
kind of a place that had a great many large creatures in it, for he had
heard his grandmother quite often call his grandfather the biggest goose
outside of a menagerie, though, being very young then, Mr. Robin
couldn't remember just what she had meant by it.

Mr. Rabbit said he thought that the word "menagerie" sounded like some
kind of a picnic, with swings and nice lively games, and Mr. Crow said
that once when he was flying he passed over a place where there was a
big sign that said Menagerie on it, and that there were some tents and a
crowd of people and a great noise, but that he hadn't seen anything that
he could carry off without being noticed, so he didn't stop.

Mr. Squirrel thought that from what Mr. Crow said it must be a place
where there would be a lot of fine things to see, and Mr. Turtle said
that he was a good deal over three hundred years old and had often heard
of a menagerie, but that he had never seen one. He said he had always
supposed that it was a nice pond of clear water, with a lot of happy
turtles and fish and wild geese and duck and such things in it, and
maybe some animals around it, all living happily together, and taken
care of by Mr. Man, who brought them a great many good things to eat. He
had always thought he would like to live in a menagerie, he said, but
that nobody had ever invited him, and he had never happened to come
across one in his travels.

Mr. Dog hadn't been saying anything all this time, but he knocked the
ashes out of his pipe now, and filled it up fresh and lit it, and
cleared his throat, and began to talk. It made him smile, he said, to
hear the different ways people thought of a thing they had never seen.
He said that Mr. Turtle was the only one who came anywhere near to what
a menagerie really was, though of course Mr. Crow _had_ seen one on the
outside. Then Mr. Dog said:

[Illustration: "SLIPPED IN BEHIND HIM WHEN HE WENT INTO THE TENT"]

"I know all about menageries, on the outside and the inside too, for I
have been to one. I went once with Mr. Man, though I wasn't really
invited to go. In fact, Mr. Man invited me to stay at home, and tried to
slip off from me; but I watched which way he went, and took long
roundin's on him, and slipped in behind him when he went into the
tent. He didn't know for a while that I was there, and I wasn't there so
very long. But it was plenty long enough--a good deal longer than I'd
ever stay again, unless I was tied.

"I never saw so many wild, fierce-looking creatures in my life as there
were in that menagerie, and they were just as wild and fierce as they
looked. They had a lot of cages full of them and they had some outside
of cages, though I don't know why they should leave any of those
dangerous animals around where they could damage folks that happened to
come in reach, as I did. Those animals outside didn't look as wild and
fierce as those in the cages, but they were.

"I kept in the crowd, close behind Mr. Man at first, and nobody knew I
was there, but by-and-by he climbed up into a seat to watch some people
all dressed up in fancy clothes ride around a ring on horses, which I
didn't care much about, so I slipped away, and went over to where there
were some things that I wanted to take my time to see quietly."

[Illustration: HE LOOKED SMILING AND GOOD-NATURED, AND I WENT OVER TO
ASK HIM SOME QUESTIONS]

"There was an animal about my size and style tied over in one corner of
the tent, behind a rope, with a sign in front of him which said, 'The
Only Tame Hyena in the World.' He looked smiling and good-natured, and I
went over to ask him some questions.

"But that sign wasn't true. He wasn't the least bit tame, and I'm sure
now that he wasn't smiling. He grabbed me before I had a chance to say a
word, and when I jerked loose, which I did right away, for I didn't want
to stir up any fuss there, I left quite a piece of my ear with the tame
hyena, and tripped backward over the rope and rolled right in front of a
creature called an elephant, about as big as a house and not as useful.

"I suppose they thought _he_ was tame, too, but he must have been tamed
by the same man, for he grabbed me with a kind of a tail that grew on
the end of his nose--a thing a good deal like Mr. 'Possum's tail, only
about a million times as big--and I could hear my ribs crack as he waved
me up and down.

"Of course, as I say, I didn't want to stir up any fuss, but I couldn't
keep still under such treatment as that, and I called right out to Mr.
Man, where he sat looking at the fancy people riding, and told him that
I had had enough of the show, and if he wanted to take any of me home,
he ought not to wait very long, but come over that way and see if he
couldn't get the tame elephant to practise that performance on the hyena
or the next dog, because I had had plenty, and was willing to go home
just as I was, all in one piece, even if not very lively.

"Mr. Man _came_, too, and so did a lot of the others. They seemed to
think that I was more to look at than those riding people; and some of
them laughed, though what there was happening that was funny I have
never been able to guess to this day. I kept right on telling Mr. Man
what I wanted him to do, and mebbe I made a good deal of noise about it,
for it seemed to stir up those other animals. There was a cage full of
lions that started the most awful roaring you can think of, and a cage
of crazy-looking things they called monkeys that screeched and howled
and swung back and forth in rings and held on to the bars, and all the
other things joined in, until I couldn't tell whether I was still saying
anything or not. I suppose they were all jealous of the elephant because
of the fun he was having, and howling to be let out so they could get
hold of me too.

"Well, you never heard of such a time. It nearly broke up the show.
Everybody ran over to look, and even the riding people stopped their
horses to enjoy it, too. If it only hadn't been so dangerous and
unpleasant I should have been proud of the way they came to see me
perform.

"But Mr. Man didn't seem to like it much. I heard him tell somebody, as
loud as he could, that I would be killed, and that I was the best dog he
ever had, and that if I _was_ killed he'd sue the show."

[Illustration: "GAVE ME AN EXTRA SWING AND CRACK"]

"That made me proud, too, but I wished he wouldn't wait to sue the
show, but would do something right away, and just then a man with a
fancy dress on and a stick with a sharp iron hook on it came running up
and said something I didn't understand and hit the elephant with the
hook end of the stick, and he gave me an extra big swing and crack and
flung me half-way across the tent, where I landed on a bunch of hay
right in front of a long-necked thing called a camel--another terrible
tame creature, I suppose--who had me about half eaten up with his old
long under lip, before Mr. Man could get over there.

"When Mr. Man did get hold of me, he said that I'd better take what was
left of me home, for they were going to feed the animals pretty soon,
and that I would likely get mixed up with the bill of fare.

"After that he took me to the entrance and pushed me outside, and I
heard all those fierce creatures in the cages growl and roar louder than
ever, as if they had expected to sample me and were sorry to see me go.

"That's what a menagerie is--it's a place where they have all the kinds
of animals and things in the world, for show, and a good many birds, and
maybe turtles, too, but they don't have any fine clear pond. They have
just a big tent, like the one Mr. Crow saw, and a lot of cages inside.
They keep most of the animals in cages, and they ought to keep them all
there, and I don't think they feed them very much, nor the best
things, or they wouldn't look so fierce and hungry.

"They just keep them for Mr. Man and his friends to look at and talk
about, and if Mr. Turtle will take my advice he will keep out of a
menagerie and live in the Wide Blue Water where he was born. I wouldn't
have gone there again unless I had been tied and dragged there, or
unless they had put those tame animals into cages with the others. No
doubt there are some very fine, strong animals in a menagerie, but they
wouldn't be there if they could help it, and if anybody ever invites any
of you to join a menagerie, take my advice and don't do it."

Then Mr. Dog knocked the ashes out of his pipe again, and all the other
Deep Woods People knocked the ashes out of _their_ pipes, too, and
filled them up fresh, and one said one thing, and one said another about
being in a menagerie or out of it, and every one thought it would be a
terrible thing to be shut up in a cage, except Mr. 'Possum, who said he
wouldn't mind it if they would let him sleep enough and give him all he
could eat, but that a cage without those things would be a lonesome
place.

Then Mr. '<DW53> said that a little adventure had happened to him once
which he had never mentioned before, because he had never known just
what to make of it; but he knew now, he said, that he had come very near
getting into a menagerie, and he would tell them just what happened.

The Story Teller looked down at the quiet figure in his lap. The Little
Lady's head was nestled close to his shoulder, and her eyes were
straining very hard to keep open.

"I think we will save Mr. '<DW53>'s story till another night," he said.




THE SECOND SNOWED-IN STORY




THE SECOND SNOWED-IN STORY

MR. '<DW53> TELLS HOW HE CAME NEAR BEING A PART OF A MENAGERIE, AND HOW HE
ONCE TOLD A STORY TO MR. DOG


"You can tell about Mr. '<DW53>, now--the story you didn't tell last
night, you know," and the Little Lady wriggles herself into a
comfortable corner just below the Story Teller's smoke, and looks deep
into a great cavern of glowing embers between the big old andirons,
where, in her fancy, she can picture the Hollow Tree people and their
friends.

"Why, yes, let me see--" says the Story Teller.

"Mr. Dog had just told about being at the menagerie, you know, and Mr.
'<DW53> was just going to tell how he came very near getting into a
menagerie himself."

"Oh yes, of course--well, then, all the Hollow Tree people, the '<DW53>
and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow, and their friends who were visiting
them--Mr. Dog and Mr. Robin and Jack Rabbit and Mr. Turtle and Mr.
Squirrel--knocked the ashes out of their pipes and filled them up
fresh--"

"No, they had just done that."

"That's so, I forgot. Well, anyway, as soon as they got to smoking and
settled back around the fire again Mr. '<DW53> told them his story, and I
guess we'll call it

"MR. '<DW53>'S EARLY ADVENTURE"

[Illustration: ALL AT ONCE HE HEARD A FIERCE BARK CLOSE BEHIND HIM]

Mr. '<DW53> said he was quite young when it happened, and was taking a
pleasant walk one evening, to think over things a little, and perhaps to
pick out a handy tree where Mr. Man's chickens roosted, when all at once
he heard a fierce bark close behind him, and he barely had time to get
up a tree himself when a strange and very noisy Mr. Dog was leaping
about at the foot of the tree, making a great fuss, and calling every
moment for Mr. Man to hurry, for he had a young '<DW53> treed.

"Of course I laid pretty low when I heard that," Mr. '<DW53> said, "for I
knew that Mr. Man would most likely have a gun, so I got into a bunch of
leaves and brush that must have been some kind of an old nest and
scrooched down so that none of me would show.

"Then by-and-by I heard some big creature come running through the
brush, and I peeked over a little, and there, sure enough, was Mr. Man
with a long gun, and I noticed that he wore a thing on his head--a sort
of hat, I suppose--made of what looked to be the skin of some relative
of mine.

"Of course that made me mad. I hadn't cared so much until I saw that;
but I said right then to myself that any one who would do such a thing
as that never could be a friend of mine, no matter how much he tried. So
I scrooched down and laid low in that old nest, and didn't move or let
on in any way that I was there.

"Then I heard Mr. Man walking around the tree and talking to his dog and
telling him that there wasn't anything up in that tree at all, and that
Mr. Dog had just been fooling him. I could tell by his voice that he was
getting mad at Mr. Dog, and I hoped that he'd get mad enough pretty soon
to take a stick to him for chasing me up a tree like that, and then
calling for Mr. Man to come and see me when there wasn't really anything
to look at.

"But Mr. Dog kept galloping around the tree and barking out, over and
over, that I was there; that he had seen me, and that he knew that I was
hiding up there somewhere; and pretty soon I heard Mr. Man going away,
and I peeked over again.

"Sure enough, he was going, but Mr. Dog was staying right there,
sitting under the tree and looking up and making a good deal more noise
than there was any need of to let me know he hadn't gone. I didn't see
why he stayed there. I wished he'd go away and tend to his own business.

"Being quite young, I still lived with my folks over near the Wide Grass
Lands, and I wanted to get home for supper. It was a good way to go, for
the tree I had climbed was over close to the edge of the world where the
sun and moon rise, and you all know that's a good way, even from here.

"Well, he didn't go, but just sat there, barking up that tree, and after
a long time I heard somebody coming again, and I peeked over and there
was Mr. Man, hurrying back, this time with an axe. I knew, right then,
there was going to be trouble. I knew they were going to cut that tree
down, and that I should most likely have quite a fuss with Mr. Dog, and
perhaps go home with a black eye and a scratched nose, and then get
whipped again for fighting, after I got there."

Mr. '<DW53> stopped and knocked the ashes out of his pipe and filled it up
fresh, and all the others knocked the ashes out of their pipes and
filled them up fresh, too. Then Mr. 'Possum poked up the fire and told
Mr. Turtle to bring a stick of wood from down-stairs, and when it was
blazing up high and bright again they all stepped over to the window a
minute, to see how hard it was snowing and banking up outside, then
went back to their chairs around the fire, and stretched out their feet
and leaned back and smoked, and listened to the rest of Mr. '<DW53>'s
story.

Mr. <DW53> said he didn't like the sound of that axe when Mr. Man began to
cut the tree down.

"Every time he struck the tree I could feel it all through me," he said,
"and I knew if he kept that noise up long enough it would give me a
nervous headache. I wished the tree would hurry up and drop, so we could
have what muss we were going to, and get it over with. I'd have got out
of that old nest and made a jump for another tree if there had been any
near enough, but there wasn't, so I just laid low and gritted my teeth
and let him chop.

[Illustration: THEN I SUDDENLY FELT LIKE A SHOOTING-STAR]

"Well, by-and-by that tree began to go down. It seemed to teeter a
little at first, this way and that; then it went very slow in one
direction; then it went a little faster; then it went a good deal
faster; then I suddenly felt like a shooting-star, I came down so fast,
and there was a big crash, and I thought I had turned into a lot of
stars, sure enough, and was shooting in every direction, and the next I
knew I was tied to a tree, hand and foot and around the middle, and Mr.
Man and Mr. Dog were sitting and looking at me, and grinning, and
talking about what they were going to do.

"Mr. Man wasn't scolding Mr. Dog any more. He was telling him what a
good thing it was they had caught me alive, for now they could sell me
to a show and get a great deal more for me than they could for my skin.
I didn't know what a show was, then, or that a show is a menagerie, but
I know now, and I can see just what they meant.

"Pretty soon Mr. Man told Mr. Dog to stay there and watch me while he
went home after a box to put me in. He said he didn't think it would be
safe to carry me in his arms, and he was right about that.

"So then Mr. Man walked off, and left Mr. Dog guarding me, and saying
unpleasant things to me now and then.

"At first I wouldn't answer him; but pretty soon I happened to think of
something pleasant to say:

"'Mr. Dog,' I said, 'I know a good story, if you'd like me to tell it.
Mr. Man may be a good while getting that box, and mebbe you'd like to
hear something to pass the time.'

"Mr. Dog said he would. He said that Mr. Man would most likely have to
make the box, and he didn't suppose he knew where the hammer and nails
were, and it might be dark before Mr. Man got back.

[Illustration: "THEN MR. DOG SAID, 'TELL ME ANOTHER'"]

"I felt a good deal better when I heard Mr. Dog say that, and I told him
a story I knew about how Mr. Rabbit lost his tail, and Mr. Dog laughed
and seemed to like it, and said, 'Tell me another.'"

Before Mr. '<DW53> could go on with his story, Mr. Rabbit said that of
course if that old tale had helped Mr. '<DW53> out of trouble he was very
glad, but that it wasn't at all true, and that some time _he_ would tell
them himself the true story of how it happened.

Then they all said that they hoped he would, for they'd always wanted to
hear that story told right, and then Mr. '<DW53> went on with his
adventure.

Mr. <DW53> said that when Mr. Dog said, 'Tell me another,' he knew he was
in a good-humor, and that he felt better and better himself. "I thought
if Mr. Man didn't come back too soon," he said, "I might get along
pretty well with Mr. Dog.

"'I know another story, Mr. Dog,' I said--'the funniest story there is.
It would make you laugh until you fell over the edge of the world, but I
can't tell it here.'

"'Why,' he said,--'why can't you tell it here as well as anywhere?'

"'Because it has to be acted,' I said, 'and my hands are tied.'

"'Will you tell it if I untie your hands?' said Mr. Dog.

"'Well,' I said, 'I'll begin it, and you can see how it goes.'

"So Mr. Dog came over and untied my hands, for he said he could tie them
again before Mr. Man came back, because he knew Mr. Man hadn't found
that hammer yet.

"'You can't get loose with just your hands untied, can you?' he said.

"'No, of course not, Mr. Dog,' I said, pleasant and polite as could be.

"'Let's see you try,' said Mr. Dog.

"So I twisted and pulled, and of course I couldn't get loose.

"'Now tell the story,' said Mr. Dog.

"So I said: 'Once there was a man who had a very bad pain in his chest,
and he took all kinds of medicine, and it didn't do him any good. And
one day the Old Wise Man of the Woods told him if he would rub his chest
with one hand and pat his head with the other, it might draw the pain
out the top and cure him. So the man with the pain in his chest tried
it, and he did it this way.'

"Then I showed Mr. Dog just how he did it, and Mr. Dog thought that was
funny, and laughed a good deal.

"'Go on and tell the rest of it,' he said. 'What happened after that?'

"But I let on as if I'd just remembered something, and I said, 'Oh, Mr.
Dog, I'm _so_ sorry, but I can't tell the rest of that story here, and
it's the funniest part, too. I know you'd laugh till you rolled over the
edge of the world.'

"'Why can't you tell the rest of that story here as well as anywhere?'
said Mr. Dog, looking anxious.

"'Because it has to be acted with the feet,' I said, 'and my feet are
tied.'

"'Will you tell it if I untie your feet?' said Mr. Dog.

"'Well, I'll do the best I can,' I said.

"So Mr. Dog came over and untied my feet. He said he knew that Mr. Man
hadn't found the nails or the pieces to make the box yet, and there
would be plenty of time to tie me again before Mr. Man got back.

"'You can't get loose, anyway, with just your hands and feet untied, can
you?' he said.

"'No, of course not, Mr. Dog,' I said, more pleasant and polite than
ever.

"'Let's see you try,' said Mr. Dog.

"So I squirmed and twisted, but of course with a strong string around my
waist and tied behind I couldn't do anything.

"'Now go on with the story,' said Mr. Dog.

[Illustration: "AND DID ROLL OFF THE EDGE OF THE WORLD, SURE ENOUGH"]

"'Well,' I said, 'the pain left his chest, but it went into his back,
and he had a most terrible time, until one day the Old Wise Man of the
Woods came along and told him that he thought he ought to know enough by
this time to rub his back where the pain was and pat his head at the
same time to draw it out at the top. So then the man with the pain
rubbed his back and patted his head this way,' and I showed Mr. Dog how
he did it; and I rubbed a good while about where the knot was, and made
a face to show how the man with the pain looked, and then I said the
pain came back into his chest again instead of being drawn out at the
top; and I changed about and rubbed there awhile, and then I went around
to my back again, chasing that pain first one side and the other; and
then I said that the Old Wise Man of the Woods came along one day and
told him that he must kick with his feet too if he ever wanted to get
rid of that pain, because, after all, it might have to be kicked out at
the bottom; and when I began to kick and dance with both feet and to rub
with my hands at the same time, Mr. Dog gave a great big laugh--the
biggest laugh I ever heard anybody give--and fell right down and rolled
over and over, and did roll off the edge of the world, sure enough.

"I heard him go clattering into a lot of brush and blackberry bushes
that are down there, and just then I got that back knot untied, and I
stepped over and looked down at Mr. Dog, who had lodged in a brier patch
on a shelf about ten feet below the edge, where Mr. Man would have to
get him up with a ladder or a rope.

"'Do you want to hear the rest of the story, Mr. Dog?' I said.

"'I'll story _you_,' he said, 'when I catch you!'

"'I told you you'd laugh till you fell off the edge of the world,' I
said.

"'I'll make _you_ laugh,' he said, 'when I catch you!'

[Illustration: "I SET OUT FOR HOME WITHOUT WAITING TO SAY GOOD-BYE"]

"Then I saw he was cross about something, and I set out for home without
waiting to say good-bye to Mr. Man, for I didn't want to waste any more
time, though I missed my supper and got a scolding besides.

"But I was glad I didn't bring home a black eye and scratched nose, and
I'm more glad than ever now that Mr. Man didn't get back in time with
that box, or I might be in a menagerie this minute instead of sitting
here smoking and telling stories and having a good time on Christmas
Day."

The Story Teller looks down at the Little Lady.

"I'm glad Mr. '<DW53> didn't get into the menagerie, aren't you?" she
says.

"Very glad," says the Story Teller.

"He went lickety-split home, didn't he?"

"He did that!"

"I like them to go lickety-split better than lickety-cut, don't you?"
says the Little Lady. "They seem to go so much faster."

"Ever so much faster," says the Story Teller.




THE WIDOW CROW'S BOARDING-HOUSE




THE WIDOW CROW'S BOARDING-HOUSE

EARLY DOINGS OF THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE AND HOW THEY FOUND A HOME


Anybody can tell by her face that the Little Lady has some plan of her
own when the Story Teller is ready next evening to "sit by the fire and
spin."

"I want you to tell me," she says, climbing up into her place, "how the
'<DW53> and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow ever got to living together in
the Hollow Tree."

That frightens the Story Teller. He is all ready with something
different.

"Good gracious!" he says, "that is an old story that all the Deep Woods
People have known ever so long."

"But I don't know it," says the Little Lady, "and I'd like to know that
before you tell anything else. Rock, and tell it."

So the Story Teller rocks slowly, and smokes, and almost forgets the
Little Lady in remembering that far-away time, and presently he begins.

"Well, it was all so long ago that perhaps I can't remember it very
well. Mr. 'Possum was a young man in those days--a nice spry young
fellow; and he used to think it was a good deal of fun to let Mr.
Dog--who wasn't friendly then, of course--try to catch him; and when Mr.
Dog would get pretty close and come panting up behind him, Mr. 'Possum
would scramble up a tree, and run out on to the longest limb and swing
from it, head down, and laugh, and say:

"Come right up, Mr. Dog! Always at home to you, Mr. Dog! Don t stop to
knock!"

And then Mr. Dog would race around under the tree and make a great to
do, and sometimes Mr. 'Possum would swing back and forth, and pretty
soon give a great big swing and let go, and Mr. Dog would think surely
he had him then, and bark and run to the place where he thought he was
going to drop. Only Mr. 'Possum didn't drop--not far; for he had his
limb all picked out, and he would catch it with his tail as he went by,
and it would bend and sway with him, and he would laugh, and call again:

"Don't go, Mr. Dog! Mr. Man can get up the cows alone to-night!"

And then Mr. Dog would remember that he was a good ways from home, and
that if he wasn't there in time to help Mr. Man get up the cows there
might be trouble; and he would set out lickety-split for home, with Mr.
'Possum calling to him as he ran.

[Illustration: CAME CLATTERING DOWN RIGHT IN FRONT OF MR. DOG]

But one time Mr. 'Possum made a mistake. He didn't know it, but he was
getting older and a good deal fatter than he had been at first, and when
he swung out for another limb that way, and let go, he missed the limb
and came clattering down right in front of Mr. Dog. He wasn't hurt much,
for the ground was soft, and there was a nice thick bed of leaves; but I
tell you he was scared, and when Mr. Dog jumped right on top of him, and
grabbed him, he gave himself up for lost, sure enough.

But Mr. 'Possum is smart in some ways, and he knows how to play "dead"
better than any other animal there is. He knew that Mr. Dog would want
to show him to Mr. Man, and that he was too heavy for Mr. Dog to carry.
He had thought about all that, and decided what to do just in that
little second between the limb and the ground, for Mr. 'Possum can think
quick enough when anything like that happens.

So when he struck the ground he just gave one little kick with his hind
foot and a kind of a sigh, as if he was drawing his last breath, and
laid there: and even when Mr. Dog grabbed him and shook him he never let
on, but acted almost deader than if he had been really dead and no
mistake.

Then Mr. Dog stood with his paws out and his nose down close, listening,
and barking once in a while, and thinking maybe he would come to pretty
soon, but Mr. 'Possum still never let on, or breathed the least little
bit, and directly Mr. Dog started to drag him toward Mr. Man's house.

That was a hard job, and every little way Mr. Dog would stop and shake
Mr. 'Possum and bark and listen to see if he was really dead, and after
a while he decided that he was, and started to get Mr. Man to come and
fetch Mr. 'Possum home. But he only went a few steps, the first time,
and just as Mr. 'Possum was about to jump up and run he came hurrying
back, and stood over him and barked and barked as loud as ever he could
for Mr. Man to come and see what he had for him. But Mr. Man was too far
away, and even if he heard Mr. Dog he didn't think it worth while to
come.

[Illustration: SO THEN MR. DOG TRIED TO GET MR. 'POSSUM ON HIS SHOULDER]

So then Mr. Dog tried to get Mr. 'Possum on his shoulder, to carry him
that way; but Mr. 'Possum made himself so limp and loose and heavy that
every time Mr. Dog would get him nearly up he would slide off again and
fall all in a heap on the leaves; and Mr. Dog couldn't help believing
that he was dead, to see him lying there all doubled up, just as he
happened to drop.

So, then, by-and-by Mr. Dog really did start for Mr. Man's, and Mr.
'Possum lay still, and just opened one eye the least bit to see how
far Mr. Dog had gone, and when he had gone far enough Mr. 'Possum jumped
up quick as a wink and scampered up a tree, and ran out on a limb and
swung with his head down, and called out:

"Don't go away, Mr. Dog! We've had such a nice visit together! Don't go
off mad, Mr. Dog! Come back and stay till the cows come home!"

Then Mr. Dog was mad, I _tell_ you, and told him what he'd do next time;
and he set out for home fast as he could travel, and went in the back
way and hid, for Mr. Man was already getting up the cows when he got
there.

Well, Mr. 'Possum didn't try that swinging trick on Mr. Dog any more. He
found out that it was dangerous, the way he was getting, and that made
him think he ought to change his habits in other ways too. For one
thing, he decided he ought to have some regular place to stay where he
could eat and sleep and feel at home, instead of just travelling about
and putting up for the night wherever he happened to be.

Mr. 'Possum was always quite stylish, too, and had a good many nice
clothes, and it wasn't good for them to be packed about all the time;
and once some of his best things got rained on and he had to sleep on
them for a long time to get them pressed out smooth again.

[Illustration: HE WAS AN OLD BACHELOR AND LIKED TO HAVE HIS OWN WAY]

So Mr. 'Possum made up his mind to find a home. He was an old bachelor
and never wanted to be anything else, because he liked to have his own
way, and go out all times of the night, and sleep late if he wanted to.
So he made up his mind to look up a good place to board--some place that
would be like a home to him--perhaps in a private family.

One day when he was walking through the woods thinking about it, and
wondering how he ought to begin to find a place like that, he met Mr. Z.
'<DW53>, who was one of his oldest friends in the Big Deep Woods. They had
often been hunting together, especially nights, for Mr. '<DW53> and Mr.
'Possum always like that time best for hunting, and have better luck in
the dark than any other time. Mr. '<DW53> had had his troubles with Mr.
Dog, too, and had come very near getting caught one night when Mr. Man
and some of his friends were out with Mr. Dog and his relatives and
several guns looking for a good Sunday dinner. Mr. '<DW53> _would_ have
got caught that time, only when Mr. Man cut the tree down that he was in
he gave a big jump as the tree was falling and landed in another tree,
and then ran out on a limb and jumped to another tree that wasn't so far
away, and then to another, so that Mr. Man and his friends and all the
dog family lost track of him entirely.

But Mr. '<DW53> was tired of that kind of thing too, and wanted some
place where he could be comfortable, and where he could lock the door
nights and feel safe. Mr. '<DW53> was a bachelor, like Mr. 'Possum, though
he had once been disappointed in love, and told about it sometimes, and
looked sad, and even shed tears.

So when he met Mr. 'Possum that day they walked along and talked about
finding a place to live, and just as they were wondering what they ought
to do they happened to notice, right in front of them, a little piece of
birch bark tacked up on a tree, and when they read it, it said:

MRS. WIDOW CROW.

WILL TAKE A FEW GUESTS.

SINGLE GENTLEMEN PREFERRED;

PLEASANT LOCATION NEAR

RACE-TRACK.

Then Mr. 'Possum scratched his head and tried to think, and Mr. '<DW53>
scratched _his_ head and tried to think, and pretty soon Mr. '<DW53> said:

"Oh yes, I know about that. That's Mr. Crow's mother-in-law. He had a
wife until last year, and his mother-in-law used to live with them. I
believe she was pretty cross, but I've heard Mr. Crow say she was a good
cook, and that he had learned to cook a great many things himself. I
heard some time ago that she had moved over by the race-track, and
perhaps Mr. Crow is boarding with her. Let's go over and see."

[Illustration: THEY SAW MR. CROW OUT IN THE YARD CUTTING WOOD FOR HIS
MOTHER-IN-LAW]

So away they went, saying how nice it would be to be really settled, and
pretty soon they got over to Mrs. Widow Crow's, and there, sure enough,
they saw Mr. Crow out in the yard cutting wood for his mother-in-law;
and when they asked him about the advertisement, he said he was helping
her to get started, and she had two nice rooms, and that Mr. 'Possum and
Mr. '<DW53> would be just the ones to fill them.

So they went right in and saw Mrs. Widow Crow about it, and by night
they had their things moved and were all settled, and Widow Crow got a
nice supper for them, and Mr. Crow helped her, and worked as hard as if
he were a hired man instead of a boarder like the others, which he was,
because he paid for his room as much as anybody, and got scolded besides
when he didn't do things to suit his mother-in-law.




THE FINDING OF THE HOLLOW TREE




THE FINDING OF THE HOLLOW TREE

HOW THE '<DW53> AND 'POSSUM AND THE OLD BLACK CROW MOVED AND SET UP
HOUSEKEEPING


Well, the Widow Crow set a very good table, and everything in her
boarding-house went along quite well for a while, and Mr. 'Possum and
Mr. '<DW53> both said what a good thing it was to have a home, and Mr.
Crow said so too, though he didn't look as if he enjoyed it as much as
he said, for his mother-in-law kept him so busy cutting and carrying
wood and helping her with the cooking that he never had any time for
himself at all.

[Illustration: HAD TO STAY AT HOME AND PEEL POTATOES]

Even when Mr. Rabbit and some of his friends had the great fall handicap
race he had to stay at home and peel potatoes, and not see it, besides
being scolded all the time for wanting to go to such a thing as a rabbit
race anyway. And Mr. Crow was sad because it reminded him of his
married life, which he was trying to forget--Mrs. Crow having been the
image of his mother-in-law and exactly like her about races and peeling
potatoes and such things.

And by-and-by, Mr. 'Possum and Mr. '<DW53> didn't like it so much, either.
Widow Crow got so she scolded them, too, about their habits, especially
about being out nights and lying in bed next morning, and she wouldn't
give them any breakfast unless they got up in time.

At last she even asked them to take care of their own rooms and to do
other work, the same as Mr. Crow did; and she didn't cook as good
things, nor as many of them, as she did when they first came. Then one
day when they complained a little--not very much, for they were afraid
of the Widow Crow, but a little--she told them that if they didn't like
what she gave them they could find a place they liked better, and that
she was tired of their ways anyhow.

So then Mr. Crow and Mr. '<DW53> and Mr. 'Possum all got together and
talked it over. And Mr. Crow said _they_ might be pretty tired of it,
but that they couldn't in a hundred years, thinking night and day, think
how tired of it _he_ was. He said if they would just say the word he
would take the things that belonged to him out of that house, and the
three of them would find some good place and all live together, and
never have anything more to do with mothers-in-law or their families. He
said he knew how to cook as well as she did, and really liked to cook
when he was in a pleasant place and wasn't henpecked to death.

And he said if they moved his things they had better do it at night
while his mother-in-law was asleep, so as not to disturb her.

Well, Mr. 'Possum and Mr. <DW53> both spoke right up and said _they'd_ go
in a minute, and that they'd hunt up the place to live that very day,
though it wasn't the best time of year to move. And Mr. Crow said:

"I know where there's a big Hollow Tree that would be _just_ the place.
It's the biggest tree in the Big Deep Woods. It has three big hollow
branches that would do for rooms, and with a little work it could be
made into the finest place anywhere. The Old Wise Man of the Woods once
lived there and fixed it all up with nice stairs, and a fireplace, and
windows, and doors with good latches on them, and it's still just as he
left it. All it needs are a few repairs, and we could move right in. I
found it once as I was flying over, and I could tell _you_, so you could
find it. It's in a thick swampy place, and you would never guess it was
there if you didn't know it. Mr. Dog knows about it, but he never could
get in if we kept the door latched, and it's not so far away from Mr.
Man's that we could not borrow, when we ran out of little things we
needed."

Well, Mr. 'Possum and Mr. '<DW53> took the directions from Mr. Crow, and
went right off to look at the Hollow Tree that very day, and decided
they'd take it, and pitched in to clean it up and get it ready to live
in. And next day they came with a hammer and some nails and worked all
day again, and Mr. Rabbit heard the noise and came over and looked
through the place and said how nice it was; and they were so tired at
night that they never thought of going out, and were up early for
breakfast.

Widow Crow was so surprised she forgot what she had always scolded them
for before, and scolded them this time for getting up so early that they
had to stand around and wait for breakfast to be put on the table. But
they didn't seem to mind the scolding at all, and Mr. Crow looked
happier than he had looked for months, and skipped around and helped set
the table, and brought in a big wood-box full of wood, and when Widow
Crow scolded him for getting chips on the floor he laughed. Then she
boxed his ears and told him he ought to remember the poor Missing One at
such a time, and Mr. Crow said he did, and could almost imagine she was
there now.

Well, Mr. '<DW53> and Mr. 'Possum got the Hollow Tree all ready, that day,
and that night they moved.

The Widow Crow was pretty fat, and liked to go to bed early, and sleep
sound, and leave Mr. Crow to do the evening dishes; and that evening Mr.
'<DW53> and' Mr. Possum pitched in and helped him, and they got through
in a jiffy and began to move.

Mr. Crow said he knew his own things, and that he wouldn't take any that
belonged to the Missing One, because they had mostly come from her
mother; and, besides, they would be a sad reminder, and didn't seem to
go with the kind of a place they had planned to have. He said if they
didn't have enough things they could borrow a few from Mr. Man when Mr.
Man went away and left his windows open, and that they wouldn't need
much to begin with.

[Illustration: LISTENED NOW AND THEN AT WIDOW CROW'S DOOR TO BE SURE SHE
WAS ASLEEP]

So then they got Mr. Crow's cook-stove out of the back store-room, and a
table that was his, and some chairs from different parts of the house,
and a few dishes which had come to him from his side of the family, and
they tiptoed around and listened now and then at Widow Crow's door to be
sure she was asleep.

They knew she _was_ by the sound; but still they were very quiet until
Mr. 'Possum started to bring a rocking-chair of Mr. Crow's down-stairs
and somehow got his legs through the rounds and fell and rolled clear to
the bottom, expressing his feelings as he came down.

That woke up Widow Crow with a jump, and she sat up in bed and called
"Thieves!" and "Help!" and Mr. Crow ran to her door and said that it
wasn't anything, only those scamps Mr. 'Possum and Mr. '<DW53> had been
out late again. He said they had brought home one of Mr. Man's
beehives and had dropped it because the bees woke up just as they were
climbing the stairs.

Then Mrs. Crow called out quick, and said for him not to dare to open
that door and let those pesky bees into her room, and that she hoped
they'd sting that 'Possum and '<DW53> until they wouldn't be able to tell
themselves apart. She said she bet she'd get that pair out of her house
if she lived through the night. Then she rolled over and went to sleep
again, and Mr. 'Possum got up and limped a little, but wasn't much
damaged, and they got all the things outside and loaded up, and set out
for the Hollow Tree.

It was moonlight and Mr. Crow led the way, and the minute they were far
enough off to be sure they wouldn't wake up Widow Crow they sang the
chorus of a song that Mr. Rabbit had made for them the day before when
he called at the Hollow Tree, and they had told him what they were going
to do. That was the Hollow Tree Song, which, of course, everybody in the
Big Deep Woods knows now, but it had never been sung there before, and
when they joined in the chorus,

  Then here's to the 'Possum and the Old Black Crow
    And the '<DW53> with a one, two, three!
  And here's to the hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow--
    Then here's to the Hollow Tree,

Mr. Owl, who was watching them from a limb overhead, thought he had
never heard anything quite so fine.

Well, they couldn't get along very fast, for the things got so heavy and
they had to rest so often that it began to look as if they wouldn't get
to the Hollow Tree by morning. But just as they got out into a little
open place that was about half-way there they saw somebody coming, and
who do you suppose it was?

"I know," says the Little Lady, "it was the Old Wise Man of the Woods,
to tell them they couldn't have his house."

"No, he didn't live there any more--he had gone away for good. No, it
wasn't the Old Wise Man; it was Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Turtle, coming to
help them move. Mr. Rabbit had gone all the way to the Wide Blue Water
after Mr. Turtle because he is so strong, and they would have been there
a good deal sooner, only Mr. Turtle didn't get home till late, and
travels slow."

[Illustration: MR. 'POSSUM SAID HE'D JUST GET ON AND HOLD THE THINGS]

Well, it wasn't so hard to move after that. They just set the cook-stove
on Mr. Turtle's back and piled on as much as would stay on, and he kept
telling them to put on more, until pretty soon Mr. 'Possum said that he
would just get on and hold the things from slipping off, which he did,
and sat on the stove and rode and swung his feet and held the other
things, while Mr. Crow and the rest walked and carried what was left.

And when they got to the Hollow Tree it was just about sun-up, and Mr.
'Possum said if they didn't have breakfast pretty soon he would starve
to death with being up all night and working so hard holding on those
things.

[Illustration: MR. 'POSSUM AND MR. '<DW53> TRIED TO PUT UP THE STOVE]

So then Mr. Crow told him that he and Mr. '<DW53> could set up the stove,
and that he would unpack the food and stir up something as quick as he
could if the others would bring a little wood and some water from the
spring, and place the things around inside; for he saw a cloud coming,
he said, and it might rain. And Mr. 'Possum and Mr. '<DW53> tried to put
up the stove in a hurry, and the pieces of pipe didn't fit very well,
and they came as near having a quarrel over it as they ever did over
anything, for even the best friends can't always put up stovepipe
together without thinking and sometimes saying unpleasant things about
each other, especially when they are hungry and not very warm and the
house is all upset. Mr. '<DW53> said he only wished he had another hand
and he would do that job alone, and Mr. 'Possum told him that if he'd
been provided with a handy and useful tail he'd _have_ the same as
another hand, and could work more and not wish so much.

Then Mr. Rabbit came to help them, and just as they got it about up it
all came down again, and Mr. Crow said that if they'd all go away he'd
set up the stove himself; which he did in about a minute, and had a
fire in it and the coffee on in no time.

Then the others rushed around and got the things straightened out, and a
fire in the fireplace, and they said how nice rooms were, and when Mr.
Crow called they all came hurrying down, and in about another minute the
'<DW53> and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow, with Mr. Rabbit and Mr.
Turtle, all sat down to the first meal in the Hollow Tree.

It was then that Jack Rabbit read all of the "Hollow Tree Song" he had
made for them, and they all sang it together; and then the storm that
Mr. Crow had seen coming did come, and they shut all the doors and
windows tight, and sat before the fire and smoked and went to sleep,
because they were so tired with being up all night.

And that was the first day in the Hollow Tree, and how the Possum and
<DW53> and Old Black Crow came to live there, and they live there still.




THE THIRD SNOWED-IN STORY




THE THIRD SNOWED-IN STORY

MR. RABBIT TELLS SOME INTERESTING FAMILY HISTORY


The Little Lady waited until the Story Teller had lit his pipe and sat
looking into the great open fire, where there was a hickory log so big
that it had taken the Story Teller and the Little Lady's mother with two
pairs of ice-tongs to drag it to the hearth and get it into place.
Pretty soon the Little Lady had crept in between the Story Teller's
knees. Then in another minute she was on one of his knees, helping him
rock. Then she said:

"Did Mr. Rabbit tell his story next? He promised to tell about losing
his tail, you know."

The Story Teller took his pipe from his mouth a moment, and sat thinking
and gazing at the big log, which perhaps reminded him of one of the
limbs of the Hollow Tree, where the '<DW53> and 'Possum and the Old Black
Crow lived and had their friends visit them that long-ago snowy
Christmas-time.

"Why, yes," he said, "that's so, Mr. Rabbit _did_ tell that story. When
Mr. '<DW53> got through telling how he came near getting into a menagerie,
they all said that it certainly was a very narrow escape, and Mr. '<DW53>
said he shouldn't wonder if that menagerie had to quit business, just
because he wasn't in it; and Mr. 'Possum said he thought if anything
would _save_ a menagerie that would, for it would keep them from being
eaten out of house and home."

Then Mr. <DW53> said that if that was so, Mr. 'Possum had saved at least
three menageries by staying right where he was in the Big Deep Woods.
This made Mr. Squirrel and Mr. Robin laugh, and the rest wondered what
those two gigglers had noticed that was funny. Then they all knocked the
ashes out of their pipes again, and walked over to the window, and
looked at the snow banking up outside and piling up on the bare limbs of
the big trees. They said how early it got dark this time of year,
especially on a cloudy day. And pretty soon Mr. Crow said they had just
about time for one more story before supper, and that Mr. Rabbit ought
to tell now about how, a long time ago, his family had lost their tails.
Mr. Rabbit didn't seem to feel very anxious to tell it, but they told
him that he had promised, and that now was as good a time as any, so
they went back and sat down, and Mr. Rabbit told them

THE TRUE STORY OF THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE, AND HOW JACK RABBIT LOST
HIS TAIL

"Once upon a time," he said, "a great many great-grandfathers back, my
family had long bushy tails, like Mr. Squirrel and Mr. Fox, only a good
deal longer and finer and softer, and _very handsome_."

When Mr. Rabbit said that, Mr. Squirrel sniffed and twitched his nose
and gave his nice bushy tail a flirt, but he didn't say anything. Mr.
Rabbit went right on.

"Well, there was one fine, handsome rabbit who had the longest and
plumiest tail of any of the family, and was very proud of it. He was my
twenty-seventh great-grandfather, and was called Mr. Hare. He was young
and smart then, and thought he was a good deal smarter than he really
was, though he was smart enough and handsome enough to set the style for
all the other rabbits, and not much ever happened to him, because he
could beat anything running that there was in the Big Deep Woods.

"That twenty-seventh great-grandfather of mine was very proud of his
running, and used to brag that in a foot-race he could beat anything
that lived between the Wide Grass Lands and the Edge of the World. He
used to talk about it to almost everybody that came along, and one day
when he met one of the Turtle family who used to be called Mr. Tortoise
in those days, he stopped and began to brag to him how fast he could run
and how nobody in the Big Deep Woods dared to race with him.

"But Mr. Turtle, he just smiled a little and said: 'Oh, pshaw! you can't
run very fast. I believe I can beat you myself!'

"Well, that did make Grandfather Hare laugh--and made him a little mad,
too.

"'You!' he said. 'Why, I'll give you within ten yards of that rail fence
of Mr. Man's, half a mile away, and then beat you across it. Just travel
along, and some time this afternoon, when you get down that way, I'll
come back and let you see me go by. But you'll have to look quick if you
see me, for I'll be going fast.'

[Illustration: MR. FOX SAID HE DIDN'T HAVE MUCH TO DO FOR A FEW MINUTES
AND HE'D ACT AS JUDGE]

"But Mr. Tortoise said he didn't want any start at all, that he was
ready to begin the race right then; and that made Grandpaw Hare laugh so
loud that Mr. Fox heard him as he was passing, and came over to see what
the fun was. Then he said that he hadn't much to do for a few minutes,
and that he'd stay and act as judge. He thought a race like that
wouldn't last long; and it didn't, though it wasn't at all the kind of a
race he had expected.

"Well, he put Mr. Tortoise and my twenty-seventh great-grandfather side
by side, and then he stood off and said 'Go!' and thought it would all
be over in a minute.

"Grandpaw Hare gave one great big leap, about twenty feet long, and then
stopped. He was in no hurry, and he wanted to have some fun with Mr.
Tortoise. He looked around to where Mr. Tortoise was coming straddling
and panting along, and he laughed and rolled over to see how solemn he
looked, and how he was travelling as if he meant to get somewhere before
dark. He was down on all fours so he could use all his legs at once, and
anybody would think, to look at him, that he really expected to win that
race.

"The more my Grandpaw Hare looked at him the more he laughed, and then
he would make another long leap forward and stop, and look back, and
wait for Mr. Tortoise to catch up again.

"Then he would call to him, or maybe go back and take roundin's on him,
and say, 'Come along there, old tobacco-box. Are you tied to something?'
Mr. Fox would laugh a good deal, too, and he told my ancestor to go on
and finish the race--that he couldn't wait around there all day. And
pretty soon he said if they were going to fool along like that, he'd
just go down to the fence and take a nap till they got there; and for
Grandpaw Rabbit to call to him when he really started to come, so he
could wake up and judge the finish.

"Mr. Fox he loped away to the fence and laid down and went to sleep in
the shade, and Grandpaw Hare thought it would be fun to pretend to be
asleep, too. I've heard a story told about it that says that he really
did go to sleep, and that Mr. Tortoise went by him and got to the fence
before he woke up. But that is not the way it happened. My
twenty-seventh great-grandfather was too smart to go to sleep, and even
if he had gone to sleep, Mr. Tortoise made enough noise pawing and
scratching along through the grass and gravel to wake up forty of our
family.

"My ancestor would wait until he came grinding along and got up even
with him, then suddenly he'd sit up as if he'd been waked out of a nice
dream and say, 'Hello, old coffee-mill! What do you want to wake me up
for when I'm trying to get a nap?' Then he would laugh a big laugh and
make another leap, and lie down and pretend again, with his fine plumy
tail very handsome in the sun.

"But Grandpaw Hare carried the joke a little too far. He kept letting
Mr. Tortoise get up a little closer and closer every time, until Mr.
Tortoise would almost step on him before he would move. And that was
just what Mr. Tortoise wanted, for about the next time he came along he
came right up behind my ancestor, but instead of stepping on him, he
gave his head a quick snap, just as if he were catching fish, and
grabbed my Grandpaw Hare by that beautiful plumy tail, and held on, and
pinched, and my ancestor gave a squeal and a holler and set out for
that rail fence, telling his troubles as he came.

[Illustration: SAILING ALONG, JUST TOUCHING THE HIGHEST POINTS]

"Mr. Fox had gone sound asleep and didn't hear the rumpus at first, and
when he did, he thought grandpaw was just calling to him to wake up and
be ready to judge the race, so he sat up quick and watched them come. He
saw my twenty-seventh great-grandfather sailing along, just touching the
highest points, with something that looked like an old black wash-pan
tied to his tail.

"When Mr. Fox saw what it was, he just laid down and laughed and rolled
over, and then hopped up on the top rail and called, out 'All right, I'm
awake, Mr. Hare! Come right along, Mr. Hare; you'll beat him yet!'

"Then he saw my ancestor stop and shake himself, and paw, and roll over,
to try to get Mr. Tortoise loose, which of course he couldn't do, for,
as we all know, whenever any of the Turtle family get a grip they never
let go till it thunders, and this was a bright day. So pretty soon
grandpaw was up and running again with Mr. Tortoise sailing out behind
and Mr. Fox laughing to see them come, and calling out: 'Come right
along, Mr. Hare! come right along! You'll beat him yet!'

[Illustration: AWAY WENT MR. TORTOISE, CLEAR OVER THE TOP RAIL]

"But Mr. Fox made a mistake about that. Grandpaw Hare was really ahead,
of course, when he came down the homestretch, but when he got pretty
close to the fence he made one more try to get Mr. Tortoise loose,
and gave himself and his tail a great big swing, and Mr. Tortoise
didn't let go quite quick enough, and off came my twenty-seventh
great-grandfather's beautiful plumy tail, and away went Mr. Tortoise
with it, clear over the top rail of the fence, and landed in a brier
patch on the other side.

"Well, Grandpaw Hare was in such a state as you never heard of! He
forgot all about the race at first, and just raved about his great loss,
and borrowed Mr. Fox's handkerchief to tie up what was left, and said
that he never in the world could show his face before folks again.

"And Mr. Fox stopped laughing as soon as he could, and was really quite
sorry for him, and even Mr. Tortoise looked through the fence, and asked
him if he didn't think it could be spliced and be almost as good as
ever.

"He said he hadn't meant to commit any damage, and that he hoped Mr.
Hare would live to forgive him, and that now there was no reason why my
grandpaw shouldn't beat him in the next race.

"Then my ancestor remembered about the race and forgot his other loss
for a minute, and declared that Mr. Tortoise didn't win the race at
all--that he couldn't have covered that much ground in a half a day
alone, and he asked Mr. Fox if he was going to let that great
straddle-bug ruin his reputation for speed and make him the
laughing-stock of the Big Deep Woods, besides all the other damage he
had done.

"Then Mr. Fox scratched his head, and thought about it, and said he
didn't see how he could help giving the race to Mr. Tortoise, for it was
to be the first one across the fence, and that Mr. Tortoise was
certainly the first one across, and that he'd gone over the top rail in
style.

[Illustration: SET OUT FOR HOME BY A BACK WAY]

"Well, that made Grandpaw Hare madder than ever. He didn't say another
word, but just picked up his property that Mr. Tortoise handed him
through the fence, and set out for home by a back way, studying what he
ought to do to keep everybody from laughing at him, and thinking that if
he didn't do something he'd have to leave the country or drown himself,
for he had always been so proud that if people laughed at him he knew he
could never show his face again.

"And that," said Mr. Rabbit, is the true story of that old race between
the Hare and the Tortoise, and of how the first Rabbit came to lose his
tail. I've never told it before, and none of my family ever did; but so
many stories have been told about the way those things happened that we
might just as well have this one, which is the only true one so far as I
know.

Then Mr. Rabbit lit his pipe and leaned back and smoked. Mr. Dog said it
was a fine story, and he wished he could have seen that race, and Mr.
Turtle looked as if he wanted to say something, and did open his mouth
to say it, but Mr. Crow spoke up, and asked what happened after that to
Mr. Rabbit's twenty-seventh great-grandfather, and how it was that the
rest of the Rabbits had short tails, too.

Then Mr. Rabbit said that that was another story, and Mr. Squirrel and
Mr. Robin wanted him to tell it right away, but Mr. Crow said they'd
better have supper now, and Mr. 'Possum thought that was a good plan,
and Mr. '<DW53>, too, and then they all hurried around to get up some
sticks of wood from down-stairs, and to set the table, and everybody
helped, so they could get through early and have a nice long evening.

And all the time the snow was coming down outside and piling higher and
higher, and they were being snowed in without knowing it, for it was
getting too dark to see much when they tried again to look out the
window through the gloom of the Big Deep Woods.




THE FOURTH SNOWED-IN STORY




THE FOURTH SNOWED-IN STORY

MR. JACK RABBIT CONTINUES HIS FAMILY HISTORY


"Did they have enough left for supper--enough for all the visitors, I
mean?" asks the Little Lady the next evening, when the Story Teller is
ready to go on with the history of the Hollow Tree.

"Oh yes, they had plenty for supper, and more, too. They had been
getting ready a good while for just such a time as this, and had carried
in a lot of food, and they had a good many nice things down in the
store-room where the wood was, but they didn't need those yet. They just
put on what they had left from their big dinner, and Mr. Crow stirred up
a pan of hot biscuits by his best receipt, and they passed them back and
forth across the table so much that Mr. 'Possum said they went like hot
cakes, sure enough, and always took two when they came his way."

And they talked a good deal about the stories that Mr. '<DW53> and Mr.
Rabbit had told them, and everybody thought how sly and smart Mr. '<DW53>
had been to fool Mr. Dog that way; and Mr. '<DW53> said that, now he came
to think it over, he supposed it was a pretty good trick, though it
really hadn't seemed so specially great to him at the time. He said he
didn't think it half as smart as Mr. Tortoise's trick on Mr. Rabbit's
Grandpaw Hare, when he beat him in the foot-race and went over the fence
first, taking Mr. Hare's tail with him. And then they wondered if that
had all really happened as Mr. Rabbit had told it--all but Mr. Turtle,
who just sat and smiled to himself and didn't say anything at all,
except "Please pass the biscuits," now and then, when he saw the plate
being set down in front of Mr. 'Possum.

Then by-and-by they all got through and hurried up and cleared off the
table, and lit their pipes, and went back to the fire, and pretty soon
Jack Rabbit began to tell

HOW THE REST OF THE RABBITS LOST THEIR TAILS

"Well," he said, "my twenty-seventh great-grandfather Hare didn't go out
again for several days. He put up a sign that said 'Not at Home,' on his
door, and then tried a few experiments, to see what could be done.

[Illustration: TRIED TO SPLICE HIS PROPERTY BACK IN PLACE]

"He first tried to splice his property back into place, as Mr. Tortoise
had told him he might, but that plan didn't work worth a cent. He never
could get it spliced on straight, and if he did get it about right, it
would lop over or sag down or something as soon as he moved, and when he
looked at himself in the glass he made up his mind that he'd rather do
without his nice plumy brush altogether than to go out into society with
it in that condition.

"So he gave it up and put on some nice all-healing ointment, and before
long what there was left of it was all well, and a nice bunch of soft,
white cottony fur had grown out over the scar, and Grandpaw Hare thought
when he looked at himself in the glass that it was really quite
becoming, though he knew the rest of his family would always be saying
things about it, and besides they would laugh at him for letting Mr.
Tortoise beat him in a foot-race.

[Illustration: GRANDFATHER WOULD LIGHT HIS PIPE AND THINK IT OVER]

"Sometimes, when there was nobody around, my grandfather would go out
into the sun and light his pipe and lean up against a big stone, or
maybe a stump, and think it over.

"And one morning, as he sat there thinking, he made up his mind what he
would do. Mr. Lion lived in the Big Deep Woods in those days, and he was
King. Whenever anything happened among the Deep Woods People that they
couldn't decide for themselves, they went to where King Lion lived, in a
house all by himself over by the Big West Hills, and he used to settle
the question; and sometimes, when somebody that wasn't very old, and
maybe was plump and tender, had done something that wasn't just right,
King Lion would look at him and growl and say it was too bad for any one
so young to do such things, and especially for them to grow up and keep
on doing them; so he would have him for breakfast, or maybe for dinner,
and that would settle everything in the easiest and shortest way.

"Of course Grandfather Hare knew very well that Mr. Tortoise and Mr. Fox
wouldn't go with him to King Lion, for they would be afraid to, after
what they had done, so he made up his mind to go alone and tell him the
whole story, because he was as sure as anything that King Lion would
decide that he had really won the race, and would be his friend, which
would make all the other Deep Woods People jealous and proud of him
again, and perhaps make them wish they had nice bunches of white cottony
fur in the place of long dragging tails that were always in the way.

"And then some day he would show King Lion where Mr. Fox and Mr.
Tortoise lived.

[Illustration: SET UP HIS EARS AND WENT BY, LICKETY-SPLIT]

"My Grandfather Hare didn't stop a minute after he thought of that, but
just set out for King Lion's house over at the foot of the Big West
Hills. He had to pass by Mr. Fox's house, and Mr. Fox called to him, but
Grandpaw Hare just set up his ears as proud as could be and went by,
lickety-split, without looking at Mr. Fox at all.

"It was a good way to King Lion's house, but Grandpaw Hare didn't waste
any time, and he was there almost before he knew it.

"When he got to King Lion's door he hammered on the knocker, and when
nobody came right away he thought maybe the King was out for a walk. But
that wasn't so. King Lion had been sick for two or three days, and he
was still in bed, and had to get up and get something around him before
he could let Grandpaw in.

"Grandpaw Hare had sat down on the steps to wait, when all at once the
door opened behind him and he felt something grab him by the collar and
swing him in and set him down hard on a seat, and then he saw it was
King Lion, and he didn't much like his looks.

[Illustration: "'GLAD TO SEE YOU,' SAID KING LION; 'I WAS JUST THINKING
ABOUT HAVING A NICE RABBIT FOR BREAKFAST'"]

"'So it was you, was it, making that noise,' he said. 'Well, I'm glad to
see you, for I was just thinking about having a nice rabbit for
breakfast.'

"Then my twenty-seventh great-grandfather knew he'd made a mistake,
coming to see King Lion when he was feeling that way, and he had to
think pretty quick to know what to say. But our family have always been
pretty quick in their thoughts, and Grandpaw Hare spoke right up as
polite as could be, and said he would do anything he could to find a
nice young plump rabbit for King Lion, and that he would even be proud
to be a king's breakfast himself, only he wasn't so very young nor so
very plump, and, besides, there was that old prophecy about the king and
the cotton-tailed rabbit, which of course, he said, King Lion must have
heard about.

"Then King Lion said that my twenty-seventh great-grandfather was plenty
young enough and plenty plump enough, and that he'd never heard of any
prophecy about a cotton-tailed rabbit, and that he'd never heard of a
cotton-tailed rabbit, either.

"Then Grandpaw Hare just got up and turned around, and as he turned he
said, as solemnly as he could:

  "'When the King eats a hare with a cotton tail,
  Then the King's good health will fail.

"Well, that scared the King a good deal, for he was just getting over
one sick spell, and he was afraid if he had another right away he'd die
sure. He sat down and asked Grandpaw Hare to tell him how he came to
have a tail like that, and grandpaw told him, and it made the King laugh
and laugh, until he got well, and he said it was the best joke he ever
heard of, and that he'd have given some of the best ornaments off of his
crown to have seen that race.

"And the better King Lion felt the hungrier he got, and when my
Grandfather Hare asked him if he wouldn't decide the race in his favor,
he just glared at him and said if he didn't get out of there and hunt
him up a nice, young, plump, long-tailed rabbit, he'd eat him--cotton
tail, prophecy, and all--for he didn't go much on prophecies anyway.

"Then Grandpaw Hare got right up and said, 'Good-day' and backed out and
made tracks for the rest of his family, and told them that King Lion had
just got up from a sick spell that had given him an appetite for
long-tailed rabbits. He said that the King had sent him out to get one,
and that King Lion would most likely be along himself pretty soon. He
said the sooner the Rabbit family took pattern after the new
cotton-tailed style the more apt they'd be to live to a green old age
and have descendants.

"Well, that was a busy day in the Big Deep Woods. The Rabbit family got
in line by a big smooth stump that they picked out for the purpose, and
grandpaw attended to the job for them, and called out 'Next!' as they
marched by. He didn't have to wait, either, for they didn't know what
minute King Lion might come. Mr. Tortoise and Mr. Fox came along and
stopped to see the job, and helped grandpaw now and then when his arm
got tired, and by evening there was a pile of tails by that stump as big
as King Lion's house, and there never was such a call for the
all-healing ointment as there was that night in the Big Deep Woods.

"And none of our family ever did have tails after that, for they never
would grow any more, and all the little new rabbits just had bunches of
cotton, too, and that has never changed to this day.

"And when King Lion heard how he'd been fooled by Grandpaw Hare with
that foolish prophecy that he just made up right there, out of his head,
he knew that everybody would laugh at him as much as he had laughed at
Mr. Hare, and he moved out of the country and never came back, and
there's never been a king in the Big Deep Woods since, so my
twenty-seventh great-grandfather did some good, after all.

"And that," said Mr. Rabbit, "is the whole story of the Hare and the
Tortoise and how the Rabbit family lost their tails. It's never been
told outside of our family before, but it's true, for it's been handed
down, word for word, and if Mr. Fox or Mr. Tortoise were alive now they
would say so."

Mr. Rabbit filled his pipe and lit it, and Mr. Crow was just about to
make some remarks, when Mr. Turtle cleared his throat and said:

"The story that Mr. Rabbit has been telling is all true, every word of
it-- I was there."

Then all the Deep Woods People took their pipes out of their mouths and
just looked at Mr. Turtle with their mouths wide open, and when they
could say anything at all, they said:

"_You were there!_"

You see, they could never get used to the notion of Mr. Turtle's being
so old--as old as their twenty-seventh great-grandfathers would have
been, if they had lived.

"Yes," said Mr. Turtle, "and it all comes back to me as plain as day. It
happened two hundred and fifty-eight years ago last June. They used to
call us the Tortoise family then, and I was a young fellow of
sixty-seven and fond of a joke. But I was surprised when I went sailing
over that fence, and I didn't mean to carry off Mr. Hare's tail. Dear
me, how time passes! I'm three hundred and twenty-five now, though I
don't feel it."

Then they all looked at Mr. Turtle again, for though they believed he
was old, and might possibly have been there, they thought it pretty
strange that he could be the very Mr. Tortoise who had won the race.

Mr. 'Possum said, pretty soon, that when anybody said a thing like that,
there ought to be some way to prove it.

Then Mr. Turtle got up and began taking off his coat, and all the others
began to get out of the way, for they didn't know what was going to
happen to Mr. 'Possum, and they wanted to be safe; and Mr. 'Possum
rolled under the table, and said that he didn't mean anything--that he
loved Mr. Turtle, and that Mr. Turtle hadn't understood the way he meant
it at all.

But Mr. Turtle wasn't the least bit mad. He just laid off his coat,
quietly, and unbuttoned his shirt collar, and told Mr. '<DW53> and Mr.
Crow to look on the back of his shell.

And then Mr. Dog held a candle, and they all looked, one after another,
and there, sure enough, carved right in Mr. Turtle's shell, were the
words:

BEAT MR. HARE

FOOT-RACE

JUNE 10, 1649

"That," said Mr. Turtle, "was my greatest joke, and I had it carved on
my shell."

And all the rest of the forest people said that a thing like that was
worth carving on anybody's shell that had one, and when Mr. Turtle put
on his coat they gave him the best seat by the fire, and sat and looked
at him and asked questions about it, and finally all went to sleep in
their chairs, while the fire burned low and the soft snow was banking up
deeper and deeper, outside, in the dark.




THE "SNOWED-IN" LITERARY CLUB




THE "SNOWED-IN" LITERARY CLUB

MR. RABBIT PROPOSES SOMETHING TO PASS THE TIME


"Did the Hollow Tree People and their company sleep in their chairs all
night?" asks the Little Lady, as soon as she has finished her supper.
"And were they snowed in when they woke up next morning?"

The Story Teller is not quite ready to answer. He has to fill his pipe
first, and puff a little and look into the fire before he sits down, and
the Little Lady climbs into her place. The Little Lady knows the Story
Teller, and waits. When he begins to rock a little she knows he has
remembered, and then pretty soon he tells her about the Snowed-In
Literary Club.

Well, the Hollow Tree People went to sleep there by the fire and they
stayed asleep a long while, for they were tired with all the good times
and all the good things to eat they had been having. And when they woke
up once, they thought it was still night, for it was dark, though they
thought it must be about morning, because the fire was nearly out, and
Mr. 'Possum said if there was anybody who wasn't too stiff he wished
they'd put on a stick of wood, as he was frozen so hard that he knew if
he tried to move he'd break.

So Mr. Turtle, who had been drawn up mostly into his shell, and Mr. Dog,
who was used to getting up at all hours of the night, stretched and
yawned and crept down after some sticks and dry pieces and built up a
good fire, and pretty soon they were all asleep again, as sound as ever.

And when they woke up next time it was still just as dark, and the fire
had gone almost out again, and Mr. '<DW53> and Mr. Crow, too, said they
didn't understand it, at all, for a fire like that would generally keep
all night and all day too, and here two fires had burned out and it was
still as dark as ever. Then Mr. Crow lit a splinter and looked at the
clock, and said he must have forgotten to wind it, or maybe it was
because it was so cold, as it had stopped a little after twelve, and Mr.
'Possum said that from the way he felt it was no wonder the clock had
stopped, for if he could tell anything by his feelings it must be at
least day after to-morrow. He said he felt so empty that every time he
breathed he could hear the wind whistle through his ribs.

That made Mr. Rabbit think of something, and he stepped over to the
window. Then he pushed it up a little, and put out his hand. But he
didn't put it out far, for it went right into something soft and cold.
Mr. Rabbit came over to where Mr. Crow was poking up the fire, bringing
some of the stuff with him.

"Now," he said, "you can all see what's the matter. We're snowed in. The
snow is up over the window, and that's why it's so dark. It may be up
over the top of the tree, and we may have been asleep here for a week,
for all we know."

Then they all gathered around to look at the snow, and went to the
window and got some more, and tried to tell whether it was day or night,
and Mr. Crow and Mr. '<DW53> and Mr. 'Possum ran up-stairs to their rooms,
and called back that it was day, for the snow hadn't come quite up to
the tops of their windows.

And it _was_ day, sure enough, and quite late in the afternoon at that,
but they couldn't tell just what day it was, or whether they had slept
one night, or two nights, or even longer.

Well, of course the first thing was to get something to eat and a big
fire going, and even Mr. 'Possum scrambled around and helped carry
wood, so he could get warm quicker. They still had a good deal to eat in
the Hollow Tree, and they were not much worried. Mr. 'Possum and Mr.
'<DW53> remembered another time they were snowed in, when Mr. Crow had fed
them on Johnnie cake and gravy, and they thought that if everything else
gave out it would be great fun to live like that again.

When they had finished eating breakfast, or dinner, or whatever it was,
for it was nearer supper-time than anything else, they began to think of
things to do to amuse themselves, and they first thought they'd have
some more stories, like Mr. Rabbit's.

But Mr. Rabbit, who is quite literary, and a good poet, said it would be
better to make it a kind of a club, and each have a poem, or a story, or
a song; or if anybody couldn't do any of those he must dance a jig.

[Illustration: GOT AROUND THE TABLE AND BEGAN TO WORK]

Then they all remembered a poetry club that Mr. Rabbit had got up once
and how nice it was, and they all said that was just the thing, and they
got around the table and began to work away at whatever they were going
to do for the "Snowed-In" Literary Club.

Mr. Rabbit wasn't very long at his piece, and pretty soon he jumped up
and said he was through, and Mr. 'Possum said that if that was so, he
might go down and bring up some wood and warm up the brains of the rest
of them. So Mr. Rabbit stirred up the fire, and sat down and looked
into it, and read over his poem to himself and changed a word here and
there, and thought how nice it was; and by-and-by Mr. Dog said he was
through, and Mr. Robin said he was through, too.

Then Mr. Rabbit said he thought that would be more than enough for one
evening anyway, and that the others might finish their pieces to-morrow
and have them ready for the next evening.

So then they all gathered around the fire again, and everybody said that
as Mr. Rabbit had thought of the club first he must be the first to read
his piece.

Mr. Rabbit said he was sure it would be more modest for some one else to
read first, but that he was willing to start things going if they wanted
him to. Then he stood up, and turned a little to the light, and took a
nice position, and read his poem, which was called

SNOWED IN

_By J. Rabbit_

  Oh, the snow lies white in the woods to-night--
    The snow lies soft and deep;
  And under the snow, I know, oh, ho!
    The flowers of the summer sleep.
  The flowers of the summer sleep, I know,
    Snowed in like you and me--
  Under the sheltering leaves, oh, ho,
    As snug and as warm as we--
  As snug and as warm from the winter storm
    As we of the Hollow Tree.
  Snowed in are we in the Hollow Tree,
  And as snug and as warm as they we be--
    Snowed in, snowed in,
  Are we, are we,
  And as snug as can be in the Hollow Tree,
    The wonderful Hollow Tree.

  Oh, the snow lies cold on wood and wold,
    But never a bit comes in,
  As we smoke and eat, and warm our feet,
    And sit by the fire and spin:
  And what care we for the winter gales,
    And what care we for the snow--
  As we sit by the fire and spin our tales
    And think of the things we know?
  As we spin our tales in the winter gales
    And wait for the snow to go?
  Oh, the winds blow high and the winds blow low,
  But what care we for the wind and snow,
  Spinning our tales of the long ago
    As snug as snug can be?
  For never a bit comes in, comes in,
  As we sit by the fire and spin, and spin
  The tales we know, of the long ago,
    In the wonderful Hollow Tree.

Mr. Rabbit sat down then, and of course everybody spoke up as soon as
they could get their breath and said how nice it was, and how Mr. Rabbit
always expressed himself better in poetry than anybody else could in
prose, and how the words and rhymes just seemed to flow along as if he
were reeling it off of a spinning-wheel and could keep it up all day.

And Mr. Rabbit smiled and said he supposed it came natural, and that
sometimes it was harder to stop than it was to start, and that he
_could_ keep it up all day as easy as not.

Then Mr. 'Possum said he'd been afraid that was what _would_ happen, and
that if Mr. Rabbit hadn't stopped pretty soon that he--Mr. 'Possum, of
course--would have been so tangled up in his mind that somebody would
have had to come and undo the knot.

[Illustration: MR. 'POSSUM WANTED TO KNOW WHAT MR. RABBIT MEANT BY
SPINNING THEIR TAILS]

Then he said he wanted to ask some questions. He said he wanted to know
what "wold" meant, and also what Mr. Rabbit meant by spinning their
tails. He said he hadn't noticed that any of them were spinning their
tails, and that he couldn't do it if he tried. He said that he could
curl his tail and hang from a limb or a peg by it, and he had found it a
good way to go to sleep when things were on his mind, and that he
generally had better dreams when he slept that way.

He said that of course Mr. Rabbit's poem had been about tails of the
long ago, and he supposed that he meant the ones which his family had
lost about three hundred years ago, according to Mr. Turtle, but that he
didn't believe they ever could spin them much, or that Mr. Rabbit could
spin what he had left.

Mr. 'Possum was going on to say a good deal more on the subject, but Mr.
Rabbit interrupted him.

He said he didn't suppose there was anybody else in the world whose food
seemed to do him so little good as Mr. 'Possum's, and that very likely
it was owing to the habit he had of sleeping with his head hanging down
in that foolish way. He said he had never heard of anybody who ate so
much and knew so little.

Of course, he said, everybody might not know what "wold" meant, as it
wasn't used much except by poets who used the best words, but that it
meant some kind of a field, and it was better for winter use, as it
rhymed with cold and was nearly always used that way. As for Mr.
'Possum's other remark, he said he couldn't imagine how anybody would
suppose that the tales he meant were those other tails which were made
to wave or wag or flirt or hang from limbs by, instead of being stories
to be told or written, just as the Deep Woods People were telling and
writing them now. He said there was an old expression about having a
peg to hang a tale on, and that it was most likely gotten up by one of
Mr. 'Possum's ancestors or somebody who knew as little about such things
as Mr. 'Possum, and that another old expression which said "Thereby
hangs a tale" was just like it, because the kind of tales he meant
didn't hang, but were always told or written, while the other kind
always did hang, and were never told or written, but were only sometimes
told or written about, and it made him feel sad, he said, to have to
explain his poem in that simple way.

Then Mr. 'Possum said that he was sorry Mr. Rabbit felt that way,
because he didn't feel at all that way himself, and had only been trying
to discuss Mr. Rabbit's nice poem. He said that of course Mr. Rabbit
couldn't be expected to know much about tails, never having had a real
one himself, and would be likely to get mixed up when he tried to write
on the subject. He said he wouldn't mention such things again, and that
he was sorry and hoped that Mr. Rabbit would forgive him.

And Mr. Rabbit said that he was sorry, too--sorry for Mr. 'Possum--and
that he thought whoever was ready had better read the next piece.

[Illustration: MR. DOG SAID HE HAD MADE A FEW SKETCHES]

Then Mr. Dog said that he supposed that he was as ready as he'd ever be,
and that he'd like to read his and get it off his mind, so he wouldn't
be so nervous and could enjoy listening to the others. He wasn't used to
such things, he said, and couldn't be original like Mr. Rabbit, but he
knew a story that was told among the fowls in Mr. Man's barnyard, and
that he had tried to write it in a simple way that even Mr. 'Possum
would understand. His story was about a duck--a young and foolish
duck--who got into trouble, and Mr. Dog said he had made a few sketches
to go with it, and that they could be handed around while he was
reading. Now he would begin, he said, and the name of his story was

ERASTUS, THE ROBBER DUCK

_By Mr. Dog, with Sketches_

Once upon a time there was a foolish young duck named Erastus (called
'Rastus, for short). He was an only child, and lived with his mother in
a small house on the bank of a pond at the foot of the farm-yard.

Erastus thought himself a brave duck; he would chase his shadow, and was
not afraid of quite a large worm.

As he grew older he did not tell his mother everything. Once he slipped
away, and went swimming alone. Then a worm larger than any he had ever
seen came up out of the water, and would have swallowed Erastus if he
had not reached the shore just in time, and gone screaming to his
mother.

His mother said the great worm was a water-snake, and she told Erastus
snake-stories which gave him bad dreams.

Erastus grew quite fast, and soon thought he was nearly grown up. Once
he tried to smoke with some other young ducks behind the barn. It made
Erastus sick, and his mother found it out. She gave Erastus some
unpleasant medicine, and made him stay in bed a week.

Erastus decided that he would run away. While his mother was taking her
morning bath he packed his things in a little valise she had given him
for Christmas. Then he slipped out the back door and made for the woods
as fast as he could go. He had made up his mind to be a robber, and make
a great deal of money by taking it away from other people.

He had begun by taking a small toy pistol which belonged to Mr. Man's
little boy. He wore it at his side. His mother had read to him about
robbers. Erastus also had on his nice new coat and pretty vest.

He did not rob anybody that day. There was nothing in the woods but
trees and vines. Erastus tripped over the vines and hurt himself, and
lost the toy pistol.

Then it came night, and he was very lonesome. For the first time in his
life Erastus missed his mother. There was a nice full moon, but Erastus
did not care for it. Some of the black shadows about him looked as if
they might be live things. By-and-by he heard a noise near him.

Erastus the Robber Duck started to run; but he was lost, and did not
know which way to go. All at once he was face to face with some large
animal. It wore a long cape and a mask. It also carried a real pistol
which it pointed at Erastus and told him to hold up his wings. Erastus
the Robber Duck held up his wings as high as possible, and tried to get
them higher. It did not seem to Erastus that he could hold them up high
enough. His mother had read to him about robbers.

Then the robber took all the things that Erastus had in his pockets. He
took his new knife and his little watch; also the nice bag which his
mother had given him for Christmas.

Erastus kept his wings up a good while after the robber had gone. He was
afraid the robber had not gone far enough. When he put them down they
were cramped and sore. Then he heard something again, and thought it was
the robber coming back after his clothes.

Erastus fled with great speed, taking off his garments as he ran. At
last he reached the edge of the wood, not far from where he lived. It
was just morning, and his mother saw him coming. She looked sad, and
embraced him.

It was the first time Erastus had been out all night.

Erastus was not allowed to go swimming or even to leave the yard for a
long time. Whenever he remembered that night in the woods he shivered,
and his mother thought he had a chill. Then she would put him to bed
and give him some of the unpleasant medicine.

Erastus did not tell his mother _all_ that had happened that night for a
good while. He was ashamed to do so. But one day when he seemed quite
sick and his mother was frightened, he broke down and told her all about
it. Then his mother forgave him, and he got well right away.

After that Erastus behaved, and grew to be the best and largest duck in
Mr. Man's farm-yard.

       *       *       *       *       *

While Mr. Dog had been reading his story the Hollow Tree People--the
'<DW53> and the 'Possum and the Old Black Crow--had been leaning forward
and almost holding their breath, and Mr. Dog felt a good deal flattered
when he noticed how interested they were. When he sat down he saw that
Mr. 'Possum's mouth was open and his tongue fairly hanging out with
being so excited.

[Illustration: MR. 'POSSUM SAID IT MIGHT BE A GOOD ENOUGH STORY, BUT IT
COULDN'T BE TRUE]

Then before any of the others could say a word, Mr. 'Possum said that it
might be a good enough story, but that it couldn't be true. He said that
he wasn't a judge of stories, but that he was a judge of ducks--young
ducks, or old either--and that no young duck could pass the night in the
Big Deep Woods and get home at sunrise or any other time, unless all the
other animals were snowed in or locked up in a menagerie, and that the
animal that had met Erastus might have robbed him, of course, but he
would have eaten him first, and then carried off what was left, unless,
of course, that robber was a rabbit, and he said that he didn't believe
any rabbit would have spunk enough to be in that business.

Mr. Rabbit was about to say something just then, but Mr. Crow and Mr.
'<DW53> both interrupted and said they thought Mr. 'Possum was right for
once, except about Mr. Rabbit, who was plenty brave enough, but too much
of a gentleman to be out robbing people at night when he could be at
home in bed asleep. Then Mr. Dog said:

"I don't know whether the story is true or not. I wrote it down as I
heard it among Mr. Man's fowls, and I know the duck that they still call
Erastus, and he's the finest, fattest--"

But Mr. Dog didn't get any further. For the Hollow Tree People broke in
and said, all together:

"Oh, take us to see him, Mr. Dog! Or perhaps you could bring him to see
us. Invite him to spend an evening with us in the Hollow Tree. Tell him
we will have him for dinner and invite our friends. Oh, do, Mr. Dog!"

But Mr. Dog knew what they meant by having him for dinner, and he said
he guessed Mr. Man would not be willing to have Erastus go out on an
invitation like that, and that if Erastus came, Mr. Man might take a
notion to visit the Hollow Tree himself. Then the Hollow Tree People
all said, "Oh, never mind about Erastus! He's probably old and
disagreeable anyway. We don't think we would care for him. But it was a
nice story--very nice, indeed."

And pretty soon Mr. Dog said he'd been thinking about the robber animal,
too, and had made up his mind that it might have been one of Mr. Cat's
family--for Mr. Man's little boy and girl had a book with a nice poem in
it about a robber cat, and a robber dog, too, though he didn't think
that the dog could have been any of _his_ family. Mr. Cat, he said,
would not be likely to care for Erastus, feathers and all, that way, and
no doubt it really was Mr. Cat who robbed him. Mr. Dog said that he had
once heard of a Mr. Cat who wanted to be king--perhaps after Mr. Lion
had gone out of the king business, and that there was an old poem about
it that Mr. Dog's mother used to sing to him, but he didn't think it had
ever been put into a book. He said there were a good many things in it
he didn't suppose the Hollow Tree People would understand because it was
about a different kind of a country--where his mother had been born--but
that if they really would like to hear it he would try to remember it
for them, as it would be something different from anything they had been
used to. Then the Hollow Tree People and their friends all said how glad
they would be to hear it, for they always liked to hear about new
things and new parts of the country; so Mr. Dog said that if some of the
others would read or sing or dance their jigs first, perhaps it would
come to him and he would sing it for them by and by.

Then Mr. Robin spoke up and said that he thought Mr. Dog's story had a
good moral in it, and he said that _his_ story (Mr. Robin's, of course)
was that kind of a story, too. Perhaps he'd better tell it now, he said,
while their minds were running that way, though as for Mr. 'Possum's
mind it seemed to be more on how good Erastus might be cooked than how
good he had become in his behavior. He was sorry, he said, that his
story didn't have any ducks in it, young or old, but that perhaps Mr.
'Possum and the others would be willing to wait for the nice pair of
cooked ones now hanging in Mr. Crow's pantry, to be served at the end of
the literary exercises.

But Mr. 'Possum said "No," he wasn't willing to wait any longer--that
Mr. Dog's story and the mention of those nice cooked fowls was more than
he could bear, and that if it was all the same to Mr. Robin and the
others he voted to have supper first, and then he'd be better able to
stand a strictly moral story on a full stomach.

Mr. Crow and Mr. '<DW53> said that was a good idea, and Mr. Rabbit said he
thought they'd better postpone Mr. Robin's story until the next evening,
as Mr. 'Possum had taken up so much time with his arguments that he
must be hungrier than usual, and if he put in as much more time eating,
it would be morning before they were ready to go on with the literary
programme.

Then they all looked at the clock and saw that it really was getting
late, though that was the only way they could tell, for the snow covered
all the windows and made no difference between day and night in the
Hollow Tree.




THE "SNOWED-IN" LITERARY CLUB--Part II




THE "SNOWED-IN" LITERARY CLUB

PART II

MR. RABBIT STARTS SOME NEW AMUSEMENTS


It was still dark in the Hollow Tree when the Deep Woods People woke up
next morning, but they knew what was the matter now, and could tell by
the clock and the fire that it was day outside, even before Mr. 'Possum
ran up to his room and looked out the window and came back shivering,
because he said the snow was blowing and drifting and some had drifted
in around his windows and made his room as cold as all outdoors. He said
he was willing to stay by the fire while this spell lasted, and take
such exercise as he needed by moving his chair around to the table when
he wanted to eat.

Mr. '<DW53> said that Mr. 'Possum might exercise himself on a little wood
for the cook-stove in Mr. Crow's kitchen if he wanted any breakfast,
and that if this spell kept up long enough, they wouldn't have anything
left but exercise to keep them alive.

So Mr. 'Possum went down-stairs after an armful of stove-wood, and he
stayed a good while, though they didn't notice it at the time. Then they
all helped with the breakfast, and after breakfast they pushed back all
the things and played Blind Man's Buff, for Mr. Rabbit said that even if
moving his chair from the fire to the table and back again was enough
exercise for Mr. 'Possum, it wasn't enough for _him_, and the others
said so, too.

[Illustration: SO THEN MR. RABBIT SAID THEY MUST CHOOSE WHO WOULD BE
"IT"]

So then Mr. Rabbit said they must choose who would be It first, and they
all stood in a row and Mr. Rabbit said:

  "Hi, ho, hickory dee
  One for you and one for me;
  One for the ones you try to find,
  And one for the one that wears the blind,"

which was a rigmarole Mr. Rabbit had made up himself to use in games
where somebody had to be "It," and Mr. Rabbit said it around and around
the circle on the different ones--one word for each one--until he came
to the word blind and that was Mr. 'Possum, who had to put on the
handkerchief and do more exercising than any of them, until he caught
Mr. Turtle, who had to be "It" quite often, because he couldn't get
out of the way as well as the others.

[Illustration: MR. 'POSSUM HAD TO PUT ON THE HANDKERCHIEF AND DO MORE
EXERCISING THAN ANY OF THEM]

And Mr. 'Possum was "It" a good deal, too, and Mr. '<DW53>, and all the
rest, though Mr. Robin was "It" less than anybody, because he was so
little and spry that he could get out of the way.

Then when they were tired of "Blind Man's Bluff" they played "Pussy
Wants a Corner" and "Forfeits," and Mr. 'Possum had to make a speech to
redeem his forfeit, and he began:

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN" (though there were no ladies present)--"I am
pleased to see you all here this evening" (though it wasn't evening)
"looking so well dressed and well fed. It is better to be well fed than
well dressed. It is better to be well dressed than not dressed at all.
It is better to be not dressed at all than not fed at all. Ladies and
gentlemen, I thank you for your kind attention and applause"--though
they hadn't applauded yet, but they did, right away, and said it was a
good speech, and Mr. Crow said it reminded him that it was about
dinner-time, and that he would need some more wood.

So Mr. 'Possum got right up to get the stove-wood again, which everybody
thought was very good of Mr. 'Possum, who wasn't usually so spry and
willing.

Then in the afternoon they had games again, but nice quiet games, for
they were all glad to sit down, and they played "Button! Button! Who's
Got the Button?" and nobody could tell when Mr. 'Possum had the button,
for his face didn't show it, because he was nearly always looking
straight into the fire, and seemed to be thinking about something away
off. And when the fire got low, he always jumped up and offered to go
down into the store-room after the wood, and they all said how willing
and spry Mr. 'Possum was getting all at once, and when he stayed a good
while down-stairs they didn't think anything about it--not at the
time--or if they did they only thought he was picking out the best
pieces to burn. They played "Drop the Handkerchief", too, and when they
got through Mr. Rabbit performed some tricks with the handkerchief and
the button that made even Mr. 'Possum pay attention because they were so
wonderful.

There was one trick especially that Mr. Rabbit did a great many times
because they liked it so much, and were so anxious to guess how it was
done. Mr. Rabbit told them it was a trick that had come down to him from
his thirty-second great-grandfather, and must never be told to any one.

[Illustration: WOULD FIND IT ON THE MANTEL-SHELF OR PERHAPS ON MR.
CROW'S BALD HEAD]

It was a trick where he laid the button in the centre of the
handkerchief and then folded the corners down on it, and pressed them
down each time so that they could see that the button was still there,
and he would let them press on it, too, to prove it, and then when he
would lift up the handkerchief by the two corners nearest him there
would be no button at all, and he would find it on the mantel-shelf or
perhaps on Mr. Crow's bald head, or in Mr. 'Possum's pocket, or some
place like that. But one time, when Mr. Rabbit had done it over and
over, and maybe had grown a little careless, he lifted the handkerchief
by the corners nearest him, and there was the button sticking fast,
right in the centre of the handkerchief, for it had a little beeswax on
it, to make it stick to one of the corners next to Mr. Rabbit, and by
some mistake Mr. Rabbit had turned the button upside down!

Then they all laughed, and all began to try it for themselves, and Mr.
Rabbit laughed too, though perhaps he didn't feel much like it, and told
them that they had learned one of the greatest secrets in his family,
and that he would now tell them the adage that went with it if they
would promise never to tell either the secret or the adage, and they all
promised, and Mr. Rabbit told them the adage, which was:

  "When beeswax grows on the button-tree,
  No one knows what the weather'll be."

"That," said Mr. Rabbit, "is a very old adage. I don't know what it
means exactly, but I'm sure it means something, because old adages
always do mean something, though often nobody can find out just what
it is, and the less they seem to mean the better they are, as adages.
There are a great many old adages in our family, and they have often got
my ancestors out of trouble. When we didn't have an old one to fit the
trouble we made a new one, and by-and-by it got old too, and useful in
different ways, because by that time it didn't seem to mean anything
special, and could be used almost anywhere."

Then the Deep Woods People all said there was never anybody who knew so
much and could do so many things as Mr. Jack Rabbit, and how proud they
all were to have him in their midst, and Mr. Rabbit showed them how to
do all the tricks he knew, and they all practised them and tried them on
each other until Mr. Crow said he must look after the supper, and Mr.
'Possum ran right off after an armful of stove-wood, and everybody
helped with everything there was to do, for they were having such a good
time and were so hungry.

And after supper they all sat around the fire again and smoked a little
before anybody said anything, until by-and-by Mr. Rabbit said that they
would go on now with the literary club, and that Mr. Robin might read
the story he had mentioned the night before.

So Mr. Robin got up, and stood on a chair, and made a nice bow. He said
it was not really his own story he had written, but one that his
grandmother used to tell him sometimes, though he didn't think it had
ever been put into a book.

Then Mr. Rabbit spoke up and said that that didn't matter, that of
course everybody couldn't be original, and that the story itself was the
main thing and the way you told it. He said if Mr. Robin would go right
on with the story now it would save time. So then they all knocked the
ashes out of their pipes--all except Mr. Robin, who began right off to
read his story:




THE DISCONTENTED FOX




THE DISCONTENTED FOX

MR. ROBIN TELLS HOW A FOX LEARNED A GOOD LESSON BY TAKING A LONG JOURNEY


Once upon a time there was a Fox who lived at the foot of a hill and had
a _nice garden_. One morning when he began to hoe in it he got tired,
and the sun was _very hot_. Then the Fox didn't like to hoe any more,
and made up his mind that it wasn't very pleasant to have a garden,
anyway.

So then he started out to travel and find _pleasant things_. He put on
his best clothes, and the first house he came to belonged to a Rabbit
who kept bees. And the Rabbit showed the Fox his bees and how to take
out the honey. And the Fox said, "What _pleasant work_!" and wanted to
take out honey too. But when he did there was a bee on the honey, and it
stung the Fox on the nose. And that hurt the Fox, and his nose began to
swell up, and he said:

"This is not pleasant work _at all_!" and of course it wasn't--not for
_him_--though the Rabbit seemed to enjoy it _more than ever_.

So the Fox travelled on, and the next house he came to belonged to a
Crow who made pies. And the Fox looked at him awhile and said, "What
_pleasant work_!" And the Crow let the Fox help him, and when the Fox
went to take a pie out of the oven he burnt his fingers _quite badly_.
Then he said, "No, it is _not_ pleasant work--not for _me_!" and that
was true, though the Crow seemed to enjoy it _more than ever_.

So the Fox went on again, and the next house he came to belonged to a
'<DW53> who milked cows. And the Fox watched him milk, and pretty soon he
said: "What pleasant work that _is_! Let _me_ milk." So the '<DW53> let
the Fox milk, and the Cow put her foot in the milk-pail and upset it
_all over_ the Fox's nice _new clothes_. And the Fox was mad, and said:
"This work is not in the _least_ pleasant!" and he _hurried away_,
though the '<DW53> seemed to enjoy it _more than ever_.

And the next house the Fox came to belonged to a Cat who played the
fiddle. And the Fox listened awhile and said: "What pleasant work that
_must be_!" and he borrowed the Cat's fiddle. But when he started down
the road playing, a Man ran around the corner and shot a loud gun at
him, and that was not pleasant, _either_, though the Cat seemed to enjoy
it _more than ever_.

So the Fox kept on travelling and _doing_ things that he thought would
be _pleasant_, but that did not turn out to _be_ pleasant--not for
_him_--until by-and-by he had travelled _clear around the world_ and had
come up on the other side, _back_ to his _own garden_ again. And his
garden was just the same as he had left it, only the things had grown
bigger, and there were _some weeds_.

And the Fox jumped over the fence and commenced to _hoe_ the _weeds_,
and pretty soon he said, "Why, this is _pleasant_!" Then he hoed some
more, and said, "Why, what pleasant work _this is_!"

So he kept on hoeing and finding it pleasant until by-and-by the weeds
were _all gone_, and the _Rabbit_ and the _Crow_ and the _Cat_ and the
_'Coon_ came and traded him honey and pies and milk and music for
vegetables, because he had the best garden in the world. And he _has
yet_!

       *       *       *       *       *

When Mr. Robin got through and sat down, Mr. Squirrel spoke up and said
it was a good story because it had a moral lesson in it and taught folks
to like the things they knew best how to do, and Mr. 'Possum said yes,
that might be so, but that the story couldn't be true, because none of
those animals would have enjoyed seeing that Fox leave them, but would
have persuaded him to stay and help them, and would have taught him to
do most of the work.

Then Mr. Robin spoke up and said that Mr. 'Possum thought everybody was
like himself, and that anyway Mr. 'Possum didn't need the lesson in that
story, for he already liked to do the things he could do best, which
were to eat and sleep and let other people do the work, though of course
he had been very good about getting the wood, lately, which certainly
was unusual.

Then Mr. 'Possum said he didn't see why Mr. Robin should speak in that
cross way when he had only meant to be kind and show him the mistake in
his story, so he could fix it right. And Mr. Rabbit said that as Mr.
'Possum seemed to know so much how stories and poems ought to be
written, perhaps he'd show now what he could do in that line himself.

Mr. 'Possum said he hadn't written anything because it was too much
trouble, but that he would tell them a story if they would like to hear
it--something that had really happened, because he had been there, and
was old enough to remember.

But before he began Mr. Robin said that as they had not cared much about
his story he would like to recite a few lines he had thought of, which
would perhaps explain how he felt, and all the animals said, "Of course,
go right on," and Mr. Robin bowed and recited a little poem he had made,
called

ONLY ME

_By C. Robin_

  How came a little bird like me
    A place in this fine group to win?
  My mind is small--it has to be--
    The little place I keep it in.
  How came a little bird like me
  To be here in the Hollow Tree?

  When all the others know so much,
    And are so strong and gifted too,
  How can I dare to speak of such
    As I can know, and think, and do?
  How can a little bird like me
  Belong here in the Hollow Tree?

[Illustration: MR. POSSUM SAID HE HADN'T MEANT ANYTHING AT ALL BY WHAT
HE HAD SAID ABOUT THE STORY]

Well, when Mr. Robin finished that, all the others spoke right up and
said that Mr. Robin must never write anything so sad as that again. They
said his story was just as good as it could be, and that Mr. Robin was
one of the smartest ones there; and Mr. 'Possum burst into tears, and
said that he hadn't meant anything at all by what he had said about the
story, and that some time, when they were all alone, Mr. Robin must
tell it to him again, and he would try to have sense enough to
understand it.

Then he ran over to Mr. Robin, and was going to embrace him and weep on
his shoulder, and would very likely have mashed him if Mr. Turtle hadn't
dragged him back to his seat and told him that he had done damage enough
to people's feelings without killing anybody, and the best thing he
could do now would be to go on with a story of his own if he had any.

But Mr. 'Possum said he was too sleepy now, so Mr. Dog sang the poem
which he had promised the evening before because, he said, singing would
be a nice thing to go to sleep on. Mr. Dog's song was called

THE CAT WHO WOULD BE KING

  There was cat who kept a store,
      With other cats for customers.
        His milk and mice
        All packed in ice
      His catnip all in canisters.

[Illustration: AND SO THIS CAT GREW RICH AND FAT]

  Fresh milk he furnished every day--
      Two times a day and sometimes three--
        And so this cat
        Grew rich and fat
      And proud as any cat could be.

  But though so fat and rich he grew
      He was not satisfied at all--
        At last quoth he,
        "A king I'll be
      Of other cats both great and small."

[Illustration]

  Then hied he to the tinner cat,
      Who made for him a tinsel crown,
        And on the street,
        A king complete,
      He soon went marching up and down.

[Illustration]

  Now, many cats came out to see,
      And some were filled with awe at him;
        While some, alack,
        Behind his back
      Did laugh and point a paw at him.

  Mice, milk, and catnip did he scorn;
      He went to business less and less--
        And everywhere
        He wore an air
      Of arrogance and haughtiness.

[Illustration: HIS CLERKS]

  His clerks ate catnip all day long--
      They spent much time in idle play;
        They left the mice
        From off the ice--
      They trusted cats who could not pay.

  While happy in his tin-shop crown
      Each day the king went marching out,
        Elate because
        He thought he was
      The kind of king you read about.

[Illustration: A SOLEMN LOOK WAS IN HIS FACE]

  But lo, one day, he strolled too far,
      And in a dim and dismal place
        A cat he met,
        Quite small, and yet
      A solemn look was in his face.

  One fiery eye this feline wore--
      A waif he was of low degrees--
        No gaudy dress
        Did he possess,
      Nor yet a handsome cat was he.

  But lo, he smote that spurious king
      And stripped him of his tinsel crown,
        Then like the wind
        Full close behind
      He chased His Highness into town.

  With cheers his subjects saw him come.
      He did not pause--he did not stop,
        But straight ahead
        He wildly fled
      Till he was safe within his shop.

  He caught his breath and gazed about--
      A sorry sight did he behold:
        No catnip there
        Or watchful care--
      No mice and milk and joy of old.

[Illustration: QUOTH HE, "MY PRIDE IS SATISFIED; THIS KINGDOM BUSINESS
DOES NOT PAY"]

  He heaved a sigh and dropped a tear--
      He sent those idle clerks away--
        Quoth he, "My pride
        Is satisfied;
      This kingdom business does not pay."

  With care once more he runs his store,
      His catnip all in canisters--
        His milk and mice
        All packed in ice,
      And humbly serves his customers.




MR. 'POSSUM'S GREAT STORY




MR. 'POSSUM'S GREAT STORY

MR. 'POSSUM TELLS THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF THE 'POSSUM FAMILY, TO THE
SURPRISE OF HIS FRIENDS


"Now this," said the Story Teller, "is the story that Mr. Possum told
the Snowed-In Literary Club in the Hollow Tree. It must be a true story,
because Mr. 'Possum said so, and, besides, anybody that knows Mr.
'Possum would know that he could never in the world have made it up out
of his head."

The Little Lady doesn't quite like that.

"But Mr. 'Possum is smart," she says. "He knows ever so much."

"Oh yes, of course, and that's why he never _has_ to make up things. He
just tells what he knows, and this time he told

"HOW UNCLE SILAS AND AUNT MELISSY MOVED

"You may remember," he said, "my telling you once about Uncle Silas and
Aunt Melissy Lovejoy, who lived in a nice place just beyond the Wide
Paw-paw Hollows, and how Uncle Silas once visited Cousin Glenwood in
town and came home all dressed up, leading a game chicken, and with a
bag of shinny-sticks, and a young man to wait on him; and how Aunt
Melissy--instead of being pleased, as Uncle Silas thought she would
be--got mad when she saw him, and made him and the young man take off
all their nice clothes and go to work in the garden, and kept them at it
with that bag of shinny-sticks until fall.[2]

"Well, this story is about them, too. I went to live with them soon
after that, because I lost both of my parents one night when Mr. Man was
hunting in the Black Bottoms for something to put in a pan with some
sweet potatoes he had raised that year, and I suppose I would have been
used with sweet potatoes too if I hadn't come away from there pretty
lively instead of trying our old playing-dead trick on Mr. Man and his
friends.

"I thought right away that Mr. Man might know the trick, so I didn't
wait to try it myself, but took out for the Wide Paw-paw Hollows, to
visit Uncle Silas Lovejoy, who was an uncle on my mother's side, and
Aunt Melissy and my little cousins; and they all seemed glad to see me,
especially my little cousins, until they found they had to give me some
of their things and most of their food, because I was young and
growing, besides being quite sad about my folks, and so, of course, had
to eat a good deal to keep well and from taking my loss too hard.

"But by-and-by Uncle Lovejoy said that he didn't believe that he and the
hired man--who was the same one he had brought home to wait on him when
he came from town--to be his valet, he said--though he got to be a hired
man right after Aunt Melissy met him and got hold of the
shinny-sticks--Aunt Melissy being a spry, stirring person who liked to
see people busy. I remember how she used to keep me and my little
cousins busy until sometimes I wished I had stayed with my folks and put
up with the sweet potatoes and let Uncle Silas and his family alone."

Mr. 'Possum stopped to light his pipe, and Mr. Rabbit said that he
supposed, of course, Mr. 'Possum knew his story and how to tell it, but
that if he ever intended to finish what Uncle Lovejoy had said about
himself and the hired man he wished he'd get at it pretty soon.

Mr. 'Possum said of course he meant to, as soon as he could get his
breath, and think a minute. "Well, then," he said, "Uncle Silas told
Aunt Melissy that he didn't believe he and the hired man could raise and
catch enough for the family since I had come to stay with them, and he
thought they had better move farther west to a place where the land was
better and where Mr. Man's chickens were not kept up in such close,
unhealthy places, but were allowed to roost out in the open air, on the
fences and in the trees. He said he didn't think their house was quite
stylish enough either, which he knew would strike Aunt Melissy, who was
a Glenwood, and primpy, and fond of the best things.

"So then we began to pack up right away, and Uncle Silas and Aunt
Melissy quarrelled a good deal about what was worth taking and what
wasn't, and they took turns scolding the hired man about a good many
things he didn't do and almost all of the things he did do, and my
little cousins and I had a fine time running through the empty rooms and
playing with things we had never seen before, but we had to keep out of
Aunt Melissy's reach if we wanted to enjoy it much.

[Illustration: AUNT MELISSY HAD ARRANGED A BUNDLE FOR UNCLE SILAS, AND
SHE HAD FIXED UP THE HIRED MAN TOO]

"Well, by-and-by we were all packed up and ready to start. We had
everything in bundles or tied together, and Aunt Melissy had arranged a
big bundle for Uncle Silas to carry, and several things to tie and hang
about on his person in different places, and she had fixed up the hired
man too, besides some bundles for me and my little cousins.

[Illustration: DIDN'T LOOK AS IF SHE BELONGED TO THE REST OF OUR CROWD]

"Aunt Melissy said she would take charge of the lunch-basket and lead
the way, and she was all dressed up and carried an umbrella, and didn't
look much as if she belonged to the rest of our crowd.

"It was pretty early when we started, for it was getting dangerous to
camp out in that section, and we wanted to get as far as we could the
first day, though we didn't any of us have any idea then how long a trip
we _would_ make that day, nor of the way we were going to make it.
Nobody could guess a guess like that, even if he was the best guesser in
the world and made his living that way."

Mr. 'Possum stopped to light his pipe again, and said that if anybody
wanted a chance to guess how far they went that first day and how they
travelled, they could guess now. But the Hollow Tree People said they
didn't want to guess, and they did want Mr. 'Possum to go ahead and tell
them about it.

"Well," said Mr. 'Possum, "we travelled fifty miles that first day, and
we travelled it in less than two hours."

"Fifty miles in two hours!" said all the Hollow Tree People. And Jack
Rabbit said:

"Why, a menagerie like that couldn't travel fifty miles in two years!"

"But we did, though," said Mr. 'Possum; "we travelled it in a balloon."

"In a balloon!"

"Well, not exactly in a balloon, but _with_ a balloon. It happened just
as I'm going to tell you.

"We went along pretty well until we got to the Wide Grass Lands, though
Aunt Melissy scolded Uncle Silas a good deal because he got behind and
didn't stand up in a nice stylish way with all the things he had to
carry, and she used her umbrella once on the hired man because he
dropped the clock.

"When we got out to the Wide Grass Lands there was a high east wind
blowing, getting ready for a storm, and when we got on top of a little
grassy hill close to the Wide Blue Water it blew Uncle Silas and the
hired man so they could hardly stand up, and it turned Aunt Melissy's
umbrella wrong side out, which made her mad, and she said that it was
Uncle Silas's fault and mine, and that she had never wanted to move
anyway.

"But just then one of my little cousins looked up in the sky and said,
'Oh, look at that funny bird!' and we all looked up, and there was a
great big long bag of a thing coming right toward us, not very high up,
and Uncle Silas spoke up and said 'That's a balloon,' for Uncle Silas
had seen one in town when he was there visiting Cousin Glenwood, and the
hired man, too. Then while we were all standing there watching it, we
saw that there was a long rope that hung from the balloon most to the
ground, and that it had something tied to the end of it (a big iron
thing with a lot of hooks on it), and that it was swooping down straight
toward us.

"Uncle Silas called out as loud as he could, 'That's the anchor! Look
out!' but it was too late to look out, for it was coming as fast as the
wind blew the balloon, and Uncle Silas and the hired man being loaded
with the things couldn't move very quick, and the rest of us were too
scared to know which way to jump, and down came that thing right among
us, and I saw it catch among Uncle Silas's furniture and the hired
man's, and I heard Uncle Silas say, 'Grab hold, all of you' and we all
did, some one way and some another, and away we went.

"Well, it was certainly very curious how we all were lucky enough to get
hold of that anchor, with all our bundles and things; but of course we
could do it better than if we had not been given those nice useful tails
which belong to our family. I had hold that way, and some of the others
did, too. Uncle Silas didn't need to hold on at all, for some of the
furniture was tied to him, and he just sat back in a chair that was hung
on behind and took it easy, though he did drop some of his things when
he first got aboard, and Aunt Melissy scolded him for that as soon as
she caught her breath and got over being frightened and was sitting up
on her part of the anchor enjoying the scenery.

[Illustration: THE BALLOON WENT OVER THE WIDE BLUE WATER JUST AFTER IT
GOT OUR FAMILY]

"I never had such a trip as that before, and never expect to have one
again. The balloon went over the Wide Blue Water just after it got our
family, and we were all afraid we would be let down in it and drowned;
but the people who were in the balloon threw out something heavy which
we thought at first they were throwing at us, but it must have been
something to make the balloon go up; for we did go up until Aunt Melissy
said if we'd just get a little nearer one of those clouds she'd step out
on it and live there, as she'd always wanted to do since she was a
child.

"Then we all sat up and held on tight, above and below, and said what a
nice day it was to travel, and that we'd always travel that way
hereafter; and Uncle Silas and the hired man unhooked their furniture,
so they could land easier when the time came, and Aunt Melissy passed
around the lunch, and we looked down and saw the water and the land
again and a lot of houses and trees, and Aunt Melissy said that nobody
could ever make her believe the world was that big if she hadn't seen it
with her own eyes.

"And Uncle Silas and the hired man said that of course this was going
pretty fast, but that they had travelled a good deal faster sometimes
when they were in town with Cousin Glenwood, and pretty soon he showed
us the town where Cousin Glenwood lived, and he and the hired man tried
to point out the house to us, but they couldn't agree about which it was
because the houses didn't look the same from up there in the air as they
did from down on the ground.

"I know I shall never forget that trip. We saw ever so many different
Mr. Men and Mr. Dogs, and animals of every kind, and houses that had
chimneys taller than any tree, and a good many things that even Uncle
Silas did not know about. Then by-and-by we came to some woods
again--the biggest kind of Big Deep Woods--and we saw that we were
getting close to the tree-tops, and we were all afraid we would get hit
by the branches and maybe knocked off with our things.

"And pretty soon, sure enough, that anchor did drop right down among the
trees, and such a clapping and scratching as we did get!

"We shut our eyes and held on, and some of our furniture was brushed off
of Uncle Silas and the hired man, and Aunt Melissy lost her umbrella,
and I lost a toy chicken, which I could never find again. Then all at
once there was a big sudden jerk that jarred Uncle Silas loose, and made
Aunt Melissy holler that she was killed, and knocked the breath out of
the rest of us for a few minutes.

"But we were all there, and the anchor was fast on the limb of a big
tree--a tree almost as big as the Hollow Tree, and hollow, just like it,
with a nice handy place to go in.

"So when we got our senses back we picked up all our things that we
could find, and moved into the new place, and Aunt Melissy looked at the
clock, which was still running, and it was just a little over two hours
since we started.

"Then pretty soon we heard Mr. Man and his friends who had been up in
the balloon coming, and we stayed close inside till they had taken the
anchor and everything away, and after that, when it was getting dark,
Uncle Silas and the hired man went out and found, not very far off,
where there were some nice chickens that roosted in handy places, and
brought home two or three, and Aunt Melissy set up the stove and cooked
up a good supper, and we all sat around the kitchen fire, and the storm
that the east wind had been blowing up came along sure enough and it
rained all night, but we were snug and dry, and went to sleep mostly in
beds made down on the floor, and lay there listening to the rain and
thinking what a nice journey we'd had and what a good new home we'd
found.

"And it _was_ a good place, for I lived there till I grew up, and if I'm
not mistaken some of Uncle Silas's and Aunt Melissy's children live
there still. I haven't heard from any of them for a long time, but I am
thinking of going on a visit over that way in the spring, and if that
balloon is still running I'm going to travel with it.

"And that," said Mr. 'Possum, "is a true story--all true, every word,
for I was there."

Nobody said anything for a minute or two after Mr. 'Possum had finished
his story--nobody _could_ say anything.

Then Mr. Rabbit coughed a little and remarked that he was glad that Mr.
'Possum said that the story was true, for no one would ever have
suspected it. He said if Mr. 'Possum hadn't said it was true he would
have thought it was one of those pleasant dreams that Mr. 'Possum had
when he slept hanging to a peg head down.

[Illustration: MR. TURTLE SAID THAT WHAT MR. 'POSSUM HAD TOLD THEM WAS
TRUE]

But Mr. Turtle, who had been sitting with his eyes shut and looking as
if he were asleep, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and said that what
Mr. 'Possum had told them was true--at least, _some_ of it was true; for
he himself had been sitting in the door of his house on the shore of the
Wide Blue Water when the balloon passed over, and he had seen Uncle
Silas Lovejoy's family sitting up there anchored and comfortable; and he
had picked up a chair that Uncle Silas had dropped, and he had it in his
house to this day, it being a good strong chair and better than any that
was made nowadays.

Well, of course after that nobody said anything about Mr. 'Possum's
story not being true, for they remembered how old and wise Mr. Turtle
was and could always prove things, and they all talked about it a great
deal, and asked Mr. 'Possum a good many questions.

They said how nice it was to know somebody who had had an adventure like
that, and Mr. Rabbit changed his seat so he could be next to Mr.
'Possum, because he said he wanted to write it all down to keep.

And Mr. 'Possum said he never would forget how good those chickens
tasted that first night in the new home, and that Mr. Rabbit mustn't
forget to put them in.

Then they all remembered that they were hungry now, and Mr. Crow and Mr.
Squirrel and Mr. Robin hustled around to get a bite to eat before
bedtime, and Mr. 'Possum hurried down to bring up the stove-wood, and
was gone quite awhile, though nobody spoke of it--not then--even if they
did wonder about it a little--and after supper they all sat around the
fire again and smoked and dropped off to sleep while the clock ticked
and the blaze flickered about and made queer shadows on the wall of the
Hollow Tree.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] _Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book_.




THE BARK OF OLD HUNGRY-WOLF




THE BARK OF OLD HUNGRY-WOLF

HOW THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE HAVE A MOST UNWELCOME VISITOR, AND WHAT
BECOMES OF HIM


"What made Mr. 'Possum so anxious to get the wood, and what made him
stay down-stairs so long when he went after it?" asks the Little Lady
next evening, when the Story Teller is lighting his pipe and getting
ready to remember the history of the Hollow Tree.

"We're coming to that. You may be sure there was some reason for it, for
Mr. 'Possum doesn't hurry after wood or stay long in a cold place if he
can help it, unless he has something on his mind. Perhaps some of the
Deep Woods People thought of that too, but if they did they didn't say
anything--not at the time. I suppose they thought it didn't matter much,
anyhow, if they got the wood."

So they went right on having a good time, keeping up a nice fire, and
eating up whatever they had; for they thought the big snow couldn't last
as long as their wood and their things to eat, and every day they went
up to look out of the up-stairs windows to see how much had melted, and
every day they found it just about the same, only maybe a little
crustier on top, and the weather stayed _very cold_.

But they didn't mind it so long as they were warm and not hungry, and
they played games, and recited their pieces, and sang, and danced, and
said they had never had such a good time in all their lives.

[Illustration: ONE DAY MR. CROW FOUND HE WAS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE BARREL
OF EVERYTHING]

But one day when Mr. Crow went down into the store-room for supplies he
found that he was at the bottom of the barrel of everything they had,
and he came up looking pretty sober, though he didn't say anything about
it--not then, for he knew there were plenty of bones and odds and ends
he could scrape up, and he had a little flour and some meal in his
pantry; so he could make soup and gravy and johnny-cake and hash, which
he did right away, and they all said how fine such things were for a
change, and told Mr. Crow to go right on making them as long as he
wanted to, even if the snow stayed on till spring. And Mr. 'Possum and
Mr. '<DW53> said it was like old times, and that Mr. Crow was probably the
very best provider in the Big Deep Woods.

Mr. Crow smiled, too, but he didn't feel like it much, for he knew that
even johnny-cake and gravy wouldn't last forever, and that unless the
snow went away pretty soon they would all be hungry and cold, for the
wood was getting low, too.

And one morning, when Mr. Crow went to his meal-sack and his flour-bag
and his pile of odds and ends there was just barely enough for
breakfast, and hardly that. And Mr. Crow didn't like to tell them about
it, for he knew they all thought he could keep right on making
johnny-cake and gravy forever, because they didn't have to stop to think
where things came from, as he did, and he was afraid they would blame
him when there was nothing more left.

So the Old Black Crow tried to step around lively and look pleasant, to
keep anybody from noticing, because he thought it might turn warm that
day and melt the snow; and when breakfast was ready he put on what there
was and said he hadn't cooked very much because he had heard that light
breakfasts were better for people who stayed in the house a good deal,
and as for himself, he said he guessed he wouldn't eat any breakfast
that morning at all.

Then while the others were eating he crept down-stairs and looked at the
empty boxes and barrels and the few sticks of wood that were left, and
he knew that if that snow didn't melt off right away they were going to
have a _very hard time_. Then he came back up in the big living-room and
went on up-stairs to his own room, to look out the window to see if it
wasn't going to be a warm, melting day. But Mr. Crow came back pretty
soon. He came back in a hurry, too, and he slammed his door and locked
it, and then let go of everything and just slid down-stairs. Then the
Deep Woods People jumped up quick from the table and ran to him, for
they thought he was having a fit of some kind, and they still thought so
when they looked into his face: for Mr. Crow's eyes were rolled up and
his bill was pale, and when he tried to speak he couldn't. And Mr.
Rabbit said it was because Mr. Crow had done without his breakfast, and
he ran to get something from the table; but Mr. Crow couldn't eat, and
then they saw that some of the feathers on top of his head were turning
gray, and they knew he had seen some awful thing just that little moment
he was in his room.

So then they all looked at one another and wondered what it was, and
they were glad Mr. Crow had locked the door. Then they carried him over
to the fire, and pretty soon he got so he could whisper a little, and
when they knew what he was saying they understood why he was so scared
and why he had locked the door; for the words that Mr. Crow kept
whispering over and over were: "Old Hungry-Wolf! Old Hungry-Wolf! Old
Hungry-Wolf!"

All the Deep Woods People know what that means. They know that when Old
Hungry-Wolf comes, or even when you hear him bark, it means that there
is no food left in the Big Deep Woods for anybody, and that nobody can
tell how long it will be before there _will_ be food again. And all the
Deep Woods People stood still and held their breath and listened for the
bark of Old Hungry-Wolf, because they knew Mr. Crow had seen his face
looking in the window. And they all thought they heard it, except Mr.
'Possum, who said he didn't believe it was Old Hungry-Wolf at all that
Mr. Crow had seen, but only Mr. Gray Wolf himself, who had perhaps
slipped out and travelled over the snow to see if they were all at home
and comfortable.

But Mr. Crow said:

"No, no; it was Old Hungry-Wolf! He was big and black, and I saw his
great fiery eyes!"

Then Mr. 'Possum looked very brave, and said he would see if Old
Hungry-Wolf was looking into his window too, and he went right up, and
soon came back and said there wasn't any big black face at his window,
and he thought that Mr. Crow's empty stomach had made him imagine
things.

So then Mr. '<DW53> said that he would go up to _his_ room if the others
would like to come along, and they could see for themselves whether Old
Hungry-Wolf was trying to get in or not.

[Illustration: THEN MR. '<DW53> SLAMMED HIS DOOR]

Then they all went very quietly up Mr. '<DW53>'s stair (all except Mr.
'Possum, who stayed with Mr. Crow), and they opened Mr. '<DW53>'s door
and took one look inside, and then Mr. '<DW53> he slammed _his_ door shut,
and locked it, and they all let go of everything and came sliding down
in a heap, for they had seen the great fiery eyes and black face of Old
Hungry-Wolf glaring in at Mr. '<DW53>'s window.

So they all huddled around the fire and lit their pipes--for they still
had some tobacco--and smoked, but didn't say anything, until by-and-by
Mr. Crow told them that there wasn't another bite to eat in the house
and very little wood, and that that was the reason why Old Hungry-Wolf
had come. And they talked about it in whispers--whether they ought to
exercise any more, because though exercise would help them to keep warm
and save wood, it would make them hungrier. And some of them said they
thought they would try to go to sleep like Mr. Bear, who slept all
winter and never knew that he was hungry until spring. So they kept
talking, and now and then they would stop and listen, and they all said
they could hear the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf--all except Mr. 'Possum,
which was strange, because Mr. 'Possum is fond of good things and would
be apt to be the very first to hear Old Hungry's bark.

[Illustration: Mr. 'POSSUM SAID NOT TO MOVE, THAT HE WOULD GO AFTER A
PIECE OF WOOD]

And when the fire got very low and it was getting cold, Mr. 'Possum said
for them not to move; that he would go down after a piece of wood, and
he would attend to the fire as long as the wood lasted, and try to
make it last as long as possible. And every time the fire got very low
Mr. 'Possum would bring a piece of wood, and sometimes he stayed a good
while (just for one piece of wood), but they still didn't think much
about it--not then. What they did think about was how hungry they were,
and Mr. Crow said he knew he could eat as much as the old ancestor of
his that was told about in a book which he had once borrowed from Mr.
Man's little boy who had left it out in the yard at dinner-time.

Then they all begged Mr. Crow to get the book and read it to them, and
perhaps they could imagine they were not so hungry. So Mr. Crow brought
the book and read them the poem about

THE RAVENOUS RAVEN

[Illustration: HE WOULD SMOKE IN THE SUN WHEN THE MORNINGS WERE FAIR]

  Oh, there was an old raven as black as could be,
  And a wonderful sort of a raven was he;
  For his house he kept tidy, his yard he kept neat,
  And he cooked the most marvellous dainties to eat.
  He could roast, he could toast, he could bake, he could fry,
  He could stir up a cake in the wink of an eye,
  He could boil, he could broil, he could grill, he could stew
  Oh, there wasn't a thing that this bird couldn't do.
  He would smoke in the sun when the mornings were fair,
  And his plans for new puddings and pies would prepare;
  But, alas! like the famous Jim Crow with his shelf,
  He was greedy, and ate all his dainties himself.

[Illustration: WITH A LOOK AND A SIGH THEY WOULD STAND AND BEHOLD]

  It was true he was proud of the things he could cook,
  And would call in his neighbors sometimes for a look,
  Or a taste, it may be, when his pastry was fine;
  But he'd never been known to invite them to dine.
  With a look and a sigh they could stand and behold
  All the puddings so brown and the sauces of gold;
  With a taste and a growl they'd reluctantly go
  Praying vengeance to fall on that greedy old crow.

[Illustration: THE TASTIEST PASTRY THAT EVER WAS KNOWN]

  Now, one morning near Christmas when holly grows green,
  And the best of good things in the markets are seen,
  He went out for a smoke in the crisp morning air,
  And to think of some holiday dish to prepare.
  Mr. Rabbit had spices to sell at his store,
  Mr. Reynard had tender young chicks by the score,
  And the old raven thought, as he stood there alone,
  Of the tastiest pastry that ever was known.

  Then away to the market he hurried full soon,
  Dropping in for a chat with the 'possum and '<DW53>
  Just to tell them his plans, which they heard with delight,
  And to ask them to call for a moment that night
  For a look and a taste of his pastry so fine,
  And he hinted he might even ask them to dine.
  Then he hurried away, and the rest of the day
  Messrs. 'Possum and '<DW53> were expectant and gay.

[Illustration: THEN TO STIR AND TO BAKE HE BEGAN RIGHT AWAY]

  Oh, he hurried away and to market he went,
  And his money for spices and poultry he spent,
  While behind in the market were many, he knew,
  Who would talk of the marvellous things he would do;
  So with joy in his heart and with twinkling eye
  He returned to his home his new project to try,
  Then to stir and to bake he began right away,
  And his dish was complete at the end of the day.

  Aye, the marvel was done--'twas a rich golden hue,
  And its smell was delicious--the old raven knew
  That he never had made such a pastry before,
  And a look of deep trouble his countenance wore;
  "For," thought he, "I am certain the' possum and '<DW53>
  That I talked with to-day will be coming here soon,
  And expect me to ask them to dine, when, you see,
  There is just a good feast in this dainty for me."

  Now, behold, he'd scarce uttered his thoughts when he heard
  At the casement a tapping--this greedy old bird--
  And the latch was uplifted, and gayly strode in
  Both the '<DW53> and the 'possum with faces agrin.
  They were barbered and brushed and arrayed in their best,
  In the holiday fashion their figures were dressed,
  While a look in each face, to the raven at least,
  Said, "We've come here to-night, sir, prepared for a feast."

  And the raven he smiled as he said, "Howdy-do?"
  For he'd thought of a plan to get rid of the two;
  And quoth he, "My dear friends, I am sorry to say
  That the wonderful pastry I mentioned to-day
  When it came to be baked was a failure complete,
  Disappointing to taste and disturbing to eat.
  I am sorry, dear friends, for I thought 'twould be fine;
  I am sorry I cannot invite you to dine."

  And the '<DW53> and the 'possum were both sorry, too,
  And suspicious, somewhat, for the raven they knew.
  They declared 'twas too bad all that pudding to waste,
  And they begged him to give them at least just a taste,
  But he firmly refused and at last they departed,
  While the greedy old crow for the dining-room started,
  And the pie so delicious he piled on his plate,
  And he ate, and he ate, and he ate, and he ate!

[Illustration: THE GREEDY OLD RAVEN, BUT GREEDY NO MORE]

  Well, next morn when the 'possum and '<DW53> passed along
  They could see at the raven's that something was wrong,
  For no blue curling smoke from the chimney-top came;
  So they opened his door and they called out his name,
  And they entered inside, and behold! on the floor
  Was the greedy old raven, but greedy no more:
  For his heart it was still--not a flutter was there--
  And his toes were turned up and the table was bare;
  Now his epitaph tells to the whole country-side
  How he ate, and he ate, and he ate till he died.

When Mr. Crow finished, Mr. Rabbit said it was certainly an interesting
poem, and if he just had a chance now to eat till he died he'd take it,
and Mr. '<DW53> said he'd give anything to know how that pie had tasted,
and he didn't see how any _one_ pie could be big enough to kill anybody
that felt as hungry as _he_ did now. And Mr. 'Possum didn't say much of
anything, but only seemed drowsy and peaceful-like, which was curious
for _him_ as things were.

Well, all that day, and the next day, and the next, there wasn't
anything to eat, and they sat as close as they could around the little
fire and wished they'd saved some of the big logs and some of the food,
too, that they had used up so fast when they thought the big snow would
go away. And the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf got louder and louder, and he
began to gnaw, too, and they all heard it, day and night--all except Mr.
'Possum, who said he didn't know why, but that for some reason he
couldn't hear a sound like that at all, which was _very_ strange,
indeed.

But there was something else about Mr. 'Possum that was strange. He
didn't get any thinner. All the others began to show the change right
away, but Mr. 'Possum still looked the same, and still kept cheerful,
and stepped around as lively as ever, and that was _very strange_.

By-and-by, when Mr. 'Possum had gone down-stairs for some barrel staves
to burn, for the wood was all gone, Mr. Rabbit spoke of it, and said he
couldn't understand it; and then Mr. '<DW53>, who had been thinking about
it too, said he wondered why it sometimes took Mr. 'Possum so long to
get a little bit of wood. Then they all remembered how Mr. Possum had
stayed so long down-stairs whenever he went, even before Old Hungry-Wolf
came to the Hollow Tree, and they couldn't understand it _at all_.

And just then Mr. 'Possum came up with two little barrel staves which he
had been a long time getting, and they all turned and looked at him very
closely, which was a thing they had never done until that time. And
before Mr. 'Possum noticed it, they saw him chew--a kind of last,
finishing chew--and then give a little swallow--a sort of last,
finishing swallow--and just then he noticed them watching him, and he
stopped right in his tracks and dropped the two little barrel staves and
looked very scared and guilty, which was strange, when he had always
been so willing about the wood.

[Illustration: LOOKED STRAIGHT AT MR. 'POSSUM AND SAID, "WHAT WAS THAT
YOU WERE CHEWING JUST NOW?"]

Then they all got up out of their chairs and looked straight at Mr.
'Possum, and said:

"What was that you were chewing just now?"

And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.

Then they all said:

"What was that you were swallowing just now?"

And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.

Then they all said:

"Why do you always stay so long when you go for wood?"

And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.

Then they all said:

"Why is it that you don't get thin, like the rest of us?"

And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.

Then they all said:

"Why is it you never hear the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf?"

And Mr. 'Possum said, very weakly:

"I did think I heard it a little while ago."

Then they all said:

"And was that why you went down after wood?"

And once more Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.

Then they all said:

"What have you got _down there_ to eat? And _where_ do you keep it?"

Then Mr. 'Possum seemed to think of something, and picked up the two
little barrel staves and brought them over to the fire and put them on,
and looked very friendly, and sat down and lit his pipe and smoked a
minute, and said that climbing the stairs had overcome him a little, and
that he wasn't feeling very well, but if they'd let him breathe a
minute he'd tell them all about it, and how he had been preparing a nice
surprise for them, for just such a time as this; but when he saw they
had found out something, it all came on him so sudden that, what with
climbing the stairs and all, he couldn't quite gather himself, but that
he was all right now, and the surprise was ready.

"Of course you know," Mr. 'Possum said, "that I have travelled a good
deal, and have seen a good many kinds of things happen, and know about
what to expect. And when I saw how fast we were using up the food, and
how deep the snow was, I knew we might expect a famine that even Mr.
Crow's johnny-cake and gravy wouldn't last through; and Mr. Crow
mentioned something of the kind once himself, though he seemed to forget
it right away again, for he went on giving us just as much as ever. But
I didn't forget about it, and right away I began laying aside in a quiet
place some of the things that would keep pretty well, and that we would
be glad to have when Old Hungry-Wolf should really come along and we had
learned to live on lighter meals and could make things last."

Mr. 'Possum was going right on, but Mr. '<DW53> interrupted him, and said
that Mr. 'Possum could call it living on lighter meals if he wanted to
but that he hadn't eaten any meal at all for three days, and that if Mr.
'Possum had put away anything for a hungry time he wished he'd get it
out right now, without any more explaining, for it was food that he
wanted and not explanations, and all the others said so too.

Then Mr. 'Possum said he was just coming to that, but he only wished to
say a few words about it because they had seemed to think that he was
doing something that he shouldn't, when he was really trying to save
them from Old Hungry-Wolf, and he said he had kept his surprise as long
as he could, so it would last longer, and that he had been pretending
not to hear Old Hungry's bark just to keep their spirits up, and he
supposed one of the reasons why he hadn't got any thinner was because he
hadn't been so worried, and had kept happy in the nice surprise he had
all the time, just saving it for when they would begin to need it most.
As to what he had been chewing and swallowing when he came up-stairs,
Mr. 'Possum said that he had been taking just the least little taste of
some of the things to see if they were keeping well--some nice cooked
chickens, for instance, from a lot that Mr. Crow had on hand and didn't
remember about, and a young turkey or two, and a few ducks, and a bushel
or so of apples, and a half a barrel of doughnuts, and--

But Mr. 'Possum didn't get any further, for all the Deep Woods People
made a wild scramble for the stairs, with Mr. 'Possum after them, and
when they got down in the store-room he took them behind one of the big
roots of the Hollow Tree, and there was a passageway that none of them
had ever suspected, and Mr. 'Possum lit a candle and led them through it
and out into a sort of cave, and there, sure enough, were all the things
he had told them about and some mince-pies besides. And there was even
some wood, for Mr. 'Possum had worked hard to lay away a supply of
things for a long snowed-in time.

Then all the Hollow Tree People sat right down there and had some of the
things, and by-and-by they carried some more up-stairs, and some wood,
too, and built up a fine big fire, and lit their pipes and smoked, and
forgot everything unpleasant in the world. And they all said how smart
and good Mr. 'Possum was to save all that food for the very time when
they would need it most, when all the rest of them had been just eating
it up as fast as possible and would have been now without a thing in the
world except for Mr. 'Possum.

Then Mr. 'Possum asked them if they could hear Old Hungry-Wolf any more,
and they listened but they couldn't hear a sound, and then they went up
into Mr. Crow's room, and into Mr. <DW53>'s room, and into Mr. 'Possum's
room, and they couldn't see a thing of him anywhere, though it was just
the time of day to see him, for it was late in the evening--the time
Old Hungry-Wolf is most likely to look in the window.

And that night it turned warm, and the big snow began to thaw; and it
thawed, and it thawed, and all the brooks and rivers came up, and even
the Wide Blue Water rose so that the Deep Woods Company had to stay a
little longer in the Hollow Tree, even when all the snow was nearly
gone. Mr. Rabbit was pretty anxious to get home, and started out one
afternoon with Mr. Turtle along, because Mr. Turtle is a good swimmer.
But there was too much water to cross and they came back again just at
sunset, and Mr. Crow let them in,[3] so they had to wait several days
longer. But Mr. 'Possum's food lasted, and by the time it was gone they
could get plenty more; and when they all went away and left the three
Hollow Tree People together again, they were very happy because they had
had such a good time; and the '<DW53> and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow
were as good friends as ever, though the gray feathers on the top of Mr.
Crow's head never did turn quite black again, and some of the Deep Woods
People call him Silver-Top to this day.

The Little Lady looks anxiously at the Story Teller.

"Did Old Hungry-Wolf ever get inside of the Hollow Tree?" she asks.

"No, he never did get inside; they only saw him through the window, and
heard him bark."

"And why couldn't Mr. 'Possum ever hear him sometimes?"

"Well, you see, Old Hungry isn't a real wolf, but only a shadow
wolf--the shadow of famine. He only looks in when people dread famine,
and he only barks and gnaws when they feel it. A famine, you know, is
when one is very hungry and there is nothing to eat. I don't think Mr.
'Possum was very hungry, and he had all those nice things laid away, so
he would not care much about that old shadow wolf, which is only another
name for hunger."

The Little Lady clings very close to the Story Teller.

"Will we ever see Old Hungry-Wolf and hear his bark?"

The Story Teller sits up quite straight, and gathers the Little Lady
tight.

"Good gracious, no!" he says. "He moved out of our part of the country
before you were born, and we'll take good care that he doesn't come back
any more."

"I'm glad," says the Little Lady. "You can sing now--you know--the
'Hollow Tree Song.'"

FOOTNOTES:

[3] See picture on cover.




AN EARLY SPRING CALL ON MR. BEAR




AN EARLY SPRING CALL ON ON MR. BEAR

MR. 'POSSUM'S CURIOUS DREAM AND WHAT CAME OF IT


"What did they do then?" asks the Little Lady. "What did the Deep Woods
People all do after they got through being snowed in?"

"Well, let's see. It got to be spring then pretty soon--early spring--of
course, and Mr. Jack Rabbit went to writing poetry and making garden;
Mr. Robin went to meet Mrs. Robin, who had been spending the winter down
South; Mr. Squirrel, who is quite young, went to call on a very nice
young Miss Squirrel over toward the Big West Hills; Mr. Dog had to help
Mr. Man a good deal with the spring work; Mr. Turtle got out all his
fishing-things and looked them over, and the Hollow Tree People had a
general straightening up after company. They had a big house-cleaning,
of course, with most of their things out on the line, and Mr. 'Possum
said that he'd just about as soon be snowed-in for good as to have to
beat carpets and carry furniture up and down stairs all the rest of his
life."

But they got through at last, and everything was nice when they were
settled, only there wasn't a great deal to be had to eat, because it had
been such a long, cold winter that things were pretty scarce and hard to
get.

One morning Mr. 'Possum said he had had a dream the night before, and he
wished it would come true. He said he had dreamed that they were all
invited by Mr. Bear to help him eat the spring breakfast which he takes
after his long winter nap, and that Mr. Bear had about the best
breakfast he ever sat down to. He said he had eaten it clear through,
from turkey to mince-pie, only he didn't get the mince-pie because Mr.
Bear had asked him if he'd have it hot or cold, and just as he made up
his mind to have some of both he woke up and didn't get either.

Then Mr. '<DW53> said he wished he could have a dream like that; that he'd
take whatever came along and try to sleep through it, and Mr. Crow
thought a little while and said that sometimes dreams came true,
especially if you helped them a little. He said he hadn't heard anything
of Mr. Bear this spring, and it was quite likely he had been taking a
longer nap than usual. It might be a good plan, he thought, to drop over
that way and just look in in passing, because if Mr. Bear should be
sitting down to breakfast he would be pretty apt to ask them to sit up
and have a bite while they told him the winter news.

Then Mr. 'Possum said that he didn't believe anybody in the world but
Mr. Crow would have thought of that, and that hereafter he was going to
tell him every dream he had. They ought to start right away, he said,
because if they should get there just as Mr. Bear was clearing off the
table it would be a good deal worse than not getting the mince-pie in
his dream.

So they hurried up and put on their best clothes and started for Mr.
Bear's place, which is over toward the Edge of the World, only farther
down, in a fine big cave which is fixed up as nice as a house and nicer.
But when they got pretty close to it they didn't go so fast and
straight, but just sauntered along as if they were only out for a little
walk and happened to go in that direction, for they thought Mr. Bear
might be awake and standing in his door.

They met Mr. Rabbit about that time and invited him to go along, but Mr.
Rabbit said his friendship with Mr. Bear was a rather distant one, and
that he mostly talked to him from across the river or from a hill that
had a good clear running space on the other <DW72>. He said Mr. Bear's
taste was good, for he was fond of his family, but that the fondness had
been all on Mr. Bear's side.

[Illustration: THEY WENT ALONG, SAYING WHAT A NICE MAN THEY THOUGHT MR.
BEAR WAS]

So the Hollow Tree People went along, saying what a nice man they
thought Mr. Bear was, and saying it quite loud, and looking every which
way, because Mr. Bear might be out for a walk too.

But they didn't see him anywhere, and by-and-by they got right to the
door of his cave and knocked a little, and nobody came. Then they
listened, but couldn't hear anything at first, until Mr. '<DW53>, who has
very sharp ears, said that he was sure he heard Mr. Bear breathing and
that he must be still asleep. Then the others thought they heard it,
too, and pretty soon they were sure they heard it, and Mr. 'Possum said
it was too bad to let Mr. Bear oversleep himself this fine weather, and
that they ought to go in and let him know how late it was.

[Illustration: SLEEP RIGHT WHERE HE WAS]

So then they pushed open the door and went tiptoeing in to where Mr.
Bear was. They thought, of course, he would be in bed, but he wasn't. He
was sitting up in a big arm-chair in his dressing-gown, with his feet up
on a low stool, before a fire that had gone out some time in December,
with a little table by him that had a candle on it which had burned down
about the time the fire went out. His pipe had gone out too, and they
knew that Mr. Bear had been smoking, and must have been very tired and
gone to sleep right where he was, and hadn't moved all winter long.

It wasn't very cheerful in there, so Mr. 'Possum said maybe they'd
better stir up a little fire to take the chill off before they woke
Mr. Bear, and Mr. '<DW53> found a fresh candle and lighted it, and Mr.
Crow put the room to rights a little, and wound up the clock, and set
it, and started it going. Then when the fire got nice and bright they
stood around and looked at Mr. Bear, and each one said it was a good
time now to wake him up, but nobody just wanted to do it, because Mr.
Bear isn't always good-natured, and nobody could tell what might happen
if he should wake up cross and hungry, and he'd be likely to do that if
his nap was broken too suddenly. Mr. Possum said that Mr. Crow was the
one to do it, as he had first thought of this trip, and Mr. Crow said
that it was Mr. 'Possum's place, because it had been in his dream. Then
they both said that as Mr. '<DW53> hadn't done anything at all so far, he
might do that.

Mr. '<DW53> said that he'd do it quick enough, only he'd been listening to
the way Mr. Bear breathed, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be ready
to wake up for a week yet, and it would be too bad to wake him now when
he might not have been resting well during the first month or so of his
nap and was making it up now. He said they could look around a little
and see if Mr. Bear's things were keeping well, and perhaps brush up his
pantry so it would be nice and clean when he did wake.

Then Mr. Crow said he'd always wanted to see Mr. Bear's pantry, for he'd
heard it was such a good place to keep things, and perhaps he could get
some ideas for the Hollow Tree; and Mr. 'Possum said that Mr. Bear had
the name of having a bigger pantry and more things in it than all the
rest of the Deep Woods People put together.

So they left Mr. Bear all nice and comfortable, sleeping there by the
fire, and lit another candle and went over to his pantry, which was at
the other side of the room, and opened the door and looked in.

Well, they couldn't say a word at first, but only just looked at one
another and at all the things they saw in that pantry. First, on the top
shelf there was a row of pies, clear around. Then on the next shelf
there was a row of cakes--first a fruit-cake, then a jelly-cake, then
another fruit-cake and then another jelly-cake, and the cakes went all
the way around, too, and some of them had frosting on them, and you
could see the raisins in the fruit-cake and pieces of citron. Then on
the next shelf there was a row of nice cooked partridges, all the way
around, close together. And on the shelf below was a row of meat-pies
made of chicken and turkey and young lamb, and on the shelf below that
there was a row of nice canned berries, and on the floor, all the way
around, there were jars of honey--nice comb honey that Mr. Bear had
gathered in November from bee-trees.

Mr. Crow spoke first.

"Well, I never," he said, "never in all my life, saw anything like it!"

And Mr. '<DW53> and Mr. 'Possum both said:

"He can't do it--a breakfast like that is too much for _any_ bear!"

Then Mr. Crow said:

"He oughtn't to be _allowed_ to do it. Mr. Bear is too nice a man to
lose."

And Mr. 'Possum said:

"He _mustn't_ be allowed to do it--we'll help him."

"Where do you suppose he begins? said Mr. '<DW53>.

"At the top, very likely," said Mr. Crow. "He's got it arranged in
courses."

"I don't care where he begins," said Mr. 'Possum; "I'm going to begin
somewhere, now, and I think I will begin on a meat-pie."

And Mr. Crow said he thought he'd begin on a nice partridge, and Mr.
'<DW53> said he believed he'd try a mince-pie or two first, as a kind of a
lining, and then fill in with the solid things afterward.

So then Mr. 'Possum took down his meat-pie, and said he hoped this
wasn't a dream, and Mr. Crow took down a nice brown partridge, and Mr.
'<DW53> stood up on a chair and slipped a mince-pie out of a pan on the
top shelf, and everything would have been all right, only he lost his
balance a little and let the pie fall. It made quite a smack when it
struck the floor, and Mr. 'Possum jumped and let his pie fall, too, and
that made a good deal more of a noise, because it was large and in a tin
pan.

Then Mr. Crow blew out the light quick, and they all stood perfectly
still and listened, for it seemed to them a noise like that would wake
the dead, much more Mr. Bear, and they thought he would be right up and
in there after them.

But Mr. Bear was too sound asleep for that. They heard him give a little
cough and a kind of a grunt mixed with a sleepy word or two, and when
they peeked out through the door, which was open just a little ways,
they saw him moving about in his chair, trying first one side and then
the other, as if he wanted to settle down and go to sleep again, which
he didn't do, but kept right on grunting and sniffing and mumbling and
trying new positions.

Then, of course, the Hollow Tree People were scared, for they knew
pretty well he was going to wake up. There wasn't any way to get out of
Mr. Bear's pantry except by the door, and you had to go right by Mr.
Bear's chair to get out of the cave. So they just stood there, holding
their breath and trembling, and Mr. 'Possum wished now it _was_ a dream,
and that he could wake up right away before the nightmare began.

Well, Mr. Bear he turned this way and that way, and once or twice seemed
about to settle down and sleep again; but just as they thought he really
had done it, he sat up pretty straight and looked all around.

Then the Hollow Tree People thought their time had come, and they wanted
to make a jump, and run for the door, only they were afraid to try it.
Mr. Bear yawned a long yawn, and stretched himself, and rubbed his eyes
open, and looked over at the fire and down at the candle on the table
and up at the clock on the mantel. The '<DW53> and 'Possum and the Old
Black Crow thought, of course, he'd know somebody had been there by all
those things being set going, and they expected him to roar out
something terrible and start for the pantry first thing.

But Mr. Bear didn't seem to understand it at all, or to suppose that
anything was wrong, and from what he mumbled to himself they saw right
away that he thought he'd been asleep only a little while instead of all
winter.

"Humph!" they heard him growl, "I must have gone to sleep, and was
dreaming it's time to wake up. I didn't sleep long, though, by the way
the fire and the candle look, besides it's only a quarter of ten, and I
remember winding the clock at half after eight. Funny I feel so hungry,
after eating a big supper only two hours ago. Must be the reason I
dreamed it was spring. Humph! guess I'll just eat a piece of pie and go
to bed."

So Mr. Bear got up and held on to his chair to steady himself, and
yawned some more and rubbed his eyes, for he was only about half awake
yet, and pretty soon he picked up his candle and started for the pantry.

Then the Hollow Tree People felt as if they were going to die. They
didn't dare to breathe or make the least bit of noise, and just huddled
back in a corner close to the wall, and Mr. 'Possum all at once felt as
if he must sneeze right away, and Mr. '<DW53> would have given anything to
be able to scratch his back, and Mr. Crow thought if he could only cough
once more and clear his throat he wouldn't care whether he had anything
to eat, ever again.

And Mr. Bear he came shuffling along toward the pantry with his candle
all tipped to one side, still rubbing his eyes and trying to wake up,
and everything was just as still as still--all except a little scratchy
sound his claws made dragging along the floor, though that wasn't a nice
sound for the Hollow Tree People to hear. And when he came to the pantry
door Mr. Bear pushed it open quite wide and was coming straight in, only
just then he caught his toe a little on the door-sill and _stumbled_ in,
and that was too much for Mr. 'Possum, who turned loose a sneeze that
shook the world.

Then Mr. Crow and Mr. '<DW53> made a dive under Mr. Bear's legs, and Mr.
'Possum did too, and down came Mr. Bear and down came his candle, and
the candle went out, but not any quicker than the Hollow Tree People,
who broke for the cave door and slammed it behind them, and struck out
for the bushes as if they thought they'd never live to get there.

But when they got into some thick hazel brush they stopped a minute to
breathe, and then they all heard Mr. Bear calling "Help! Help!" as loud
as he could, and when they listened they heard him mention something
about an earthquake and that the world was coming to an end.

[Illustration: MR. <DW53> SCRATCHED HIS BACK AGAINST A LITTLE BUSH]

Then Mr. 'Possum said that from the sound of Mr. Bear's voice he seemed
to be unhappy about something, and that it was too bad for them to just
pass right by without asking what was the trouble, especially if Mr.
Bear, who had always been so friendly, should ever hear of it. So then
they straightened their collars and ties and knocked the dust off a
little, and Mr. '<DW53> scratched his back against a little bush and Mr.
Crow cleared his throat, and they stepped out of the hazel patch and
went up to Mr. Bear's door and pushed it open a little and called out:

"Oh, Mr. Bear, do you need any help?"

"Oh yes," groaned Mr. Bear, "come quick! I've been struck by an
earthquake and nearly killed, and everything I've got must be ruined.
Bring a light and look at my pantry!

"So then Mr. '<DW53> ran with a splinter from Mr. Bear's fire and lit the
candle, and Mr. Bear got up, rubbing himself and taking on, and began
looking at his pantry shelves, which made him better right away.

"Oh," he said, "how lucky the damage is so small! Only two pies and a
partridge knocked down, and they are not much hurt. I thought everything
was lost, and my nerves are all upset when I was getting ready for my
winter sleep. How glad I am you happened to be passing. Stay with me,
and we will eat to quiet our nerves."

Then the Hollow Tree People said that the earthquake had made them
nervous too, and that perhaps a little food would be good for all of
them; so they flew around just as if they were at home, and brought Mr.
Bear's table right into the pantry, and some chairs, and set out the
very best things and told Mr. Bear to sit right up to the table and help
himself, and then all the others sat up, too, and they ate everything
clear through, from meat-pie in mince-pie, just as if Mr. 'Possum's
dream had really come true.

And Mr. Bear said he didn't understand how he could have such a good
appetite when he had such a big supper only two hours ago, and he said
that there must have been two earthquakes, because a noise of some kind
had roused him from a little nap he had been taking in his chair, but
that the real earthquake hadn't happened until he got to the pantry
door, where he stumbled a little, which seemed to touch it off. He said
he hoped he'd never live to go through with a thing like that again.

Then the Hollow Tree People said they had heard both of the shocks, and
that the last one was a good deal the worst, and that of course such a
thing would sound a good deal louder in a cave anyway. And by-and-by,
when they were all through eating, they went in by the fire and sat down
and smoked, and Mr. Bear said he didn't feel as sleepy as he thought he
should because he was still upset a good deal by the shock, but that he
guessed he would just crawl into bed while they were there, as it seemed
nice to have company.

So he did, and by-and-by he dropped off to sleep again, and the Hollow
Tree People borrowed a few things, and went out softly and shut the door
behind them. They stopped at Mr. Rabbit's house on the way home, and
told him they had enjoyed a nice breakfast with Mr. Bear, and how Mr.
Bear had sent a partridge and a pie and a little pot of honey to Mr.
Rabbit because of his fondness for the family. Then Mr. Rabbit felt
quite pleased, because it was too early for spring vegetables and hard
to get good things for the table.

"And did Mr. Bear sleep all summer?" asks the Little Lady.

"No, he woke up again pretty soon, for he had finished his nap, and of
course the next time when he looked around he found his fire out and the
candle burned down and the clock stopped, so he got up and went outside,
and saw it was spring and that he had slept a good deal longer than
usual. But when he went to eat his spring breakfast he couldn't
understand why he wasn't very hungry, and thought it must be because
he'd eaten two such big suppers.

"But why didn't the Hollow Tree People tell him it was spring and not
let him go to bed again?"

Well, I s'pose they thought it wouldn't be very polite to tell Mr. Bear
how he'd been fooled, and, besides, he needed a nice nap again after the
earthquake--anyhow, he thought it was an earthquake, and was a good deal
upset.

[Illustration: MR. RABBIT THANKED HIM FROM ACROSS THE RIVER]

And it was a long time before he found out what _had really_ happened,
and he never would have known, if Mr. Rabbit hadn't seen him fishing one
day and thanked him from across the river for the nice breakfast he had
sent him by the Hollow Tree People.

That set Mr. Bear to thinking, and he asked Mr. Rabbit a few questions
about things in general and earthquakes in particular, and the more he
found out and thought about it the more he began to guess just how it
was, and by-and-by when he did find out all about it, he didn't care any
more, and really thought it quite a good joke on himself for falling
asleep in his chair and sleeping there all winter long.




MR. CROW'S GARDEN




MR. CROW'S GARDEN

THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE LEARN HOW TO RAISE FINE VEGETABLES


One morning, right after breakfast in the Hollow Tree, Mr. Crow said
he'd been thinking of something ever since he woke up, and if the '<DW53>
and the 'Possum thought it was a good plan he believed he'd do it. He
said of course they knew how good Mr. Rabbit's garden always was, and
how he nearly lived out of it during the summer, Mr. Rabbit being a good
deal of a vegetarian; by which he meant that he liked vegetables better
than anything, while the Hollow Tree People, Mr. Crow said, were a
little different in their tastes, though he didn't know just what the
name for them was. He said he thought they might be humanitarians,
because they liked the things that Mr. Man and other human beings liked,
but that he wasn't sure whether that was the right name or not.

Then Mr. 'Possum said for him to never mind about the word, but to go on
and talk about his plan if it had anything to do with something to eat,
for he was getting pretty tired of living on little picked-up things
such as they had been having this hard spring, and Mr. '<DW53> said so
too. So then Mr. Crow said:

"Well, I've been planning to have a garden this spring like Mr.
Rabbit's."

"Humph!" said Mr. 'Possum, "I thought you were going to start a chicken
farm."

But Mr. Crow said "No," that the Big Deep Woods didn't seem a healthy
place for chickens, and that they could pick up a chicken here and there
by-and-by, and then if they had nice green pease to go with it, or some
green corn, or even a tender salad, it would help out, especially when
they had company like Mr. Robin, or Mr. Squirrel, or Mr. Rabbit, who
cared for such things.

So then the '<DW53> and the 'Possum both said that to have green pease and
corn was a very good idea, especially when such things were mixed with
young chickens with plenty of dressing and gravy, and that as this was a
pleasant morning they might walk over and call on Jack Rabbit so that
the Old Black Crow could find out about planting things. Mr. 'Possum
said that his uncle Silas Lovejoy always had a garden, and he had worked
it a good deal when he was young, but that he had forgotten just how
things should be planted, though he knew the moon had something to do
with it, and if you didn't get the time right the things that ought to
grow up would grow down and the down things would all grow up, so that
you'd have to dig your pease and pick your potatoes when the other way
was the fashion and thought to be better in this climate.

So then the Hollow Tree People put on their things and went out into the
nice April sunshine and walked over to Jack Rabbit's house, saying how
pleasant it was to take a little walk this way when everything was
getting green, and they passed by where Mr. and Mrs. Robin were building
a new nest, and they looked in on a cozy little hollow tree where Mr.
Squirrel, who had just brought home a young wife from over by the Big
West Hills, had set up housekeeping with everything new except the
old-fashioned feather-bed and home-made spread which Miss Squirrel had
been given by her folks. They looked through Mr. Squirrel's house and
said how snug it was, and that perhaps it would be better not to try to
furnish it too much at once, as it was nice just to get things as one
was able, instead of doing everything at the start.

When they got to Mr. Rabbit's house he was weaving a rag carpet for his
front room, and they all stood behind him and watched him weave, and
by-and-by Mr. '<DW53> wanted to try it, but he didn't know how to run the
treadle exactly, and got some of the strands too loose and some too
tight, so he gave it up, and they all went out to look at Mr. Rabbit's
garden.

Well, Mr. Rabbit did have a nice garden. It was all laid out in rows,
and was straight and trim, and there wasn't a weed anywhere. He had
things up, too--pease and lettuce and radishes--and he had some
tomato-plants growing in a box in the house, because it was too early to
put them out.

Mr. Rabbit said that a good many people bought their plants, but that he
always liked to raise his own from seed, because then he knew just what
they were and what to expect. He told them how to plant the different
things and about the moon, and said there was an old adage in his family
that if you remembered it you'd always plant at the right time. The
adage, he said, was:

  "Pease and beans in the light of the moon--
  Both in the pot before it's June."

And of course you only had to change "light" to "dark" and use it for
turnips and potatoes and such things, though really it was sometimes
later than June, but June was near enough, and rhymed with "moon" better
than July and August. He said he would give Mr. Crow all the seeds he
wanted, and that when he was ready to put out tomatoes he would let him
have plenty of plants too.

Then Mr. '<DW53> said it would be nice to have a few flower seeds, and
they all looked at Mr. '<DW53> because they knew he had once been in love,
and they thought by his wanting flowers that he might be going to get
that way again.

But Mr. Rabbit said he was fond of flowers, too, especially the
old-fashioned kind, and he picked out some for Mr. '<DW53>; and then he
went to weaving again, and the Hollow Tree People watched him awhile,
and he pointed out pieces of different clothes he had had that he was
weaving into his carpet, and they all thought how nice it was to use up
one's old things that way.

Then by-and-by the Hollow Tree People went back home, and they began
their garden right away. It was just the kind of a day to make garden
and they all felt like it, so they spaded and hoed and raked, and didn't
find it very easy because the place had never been used for a garden
before, and there were some roots and stones; and pretty soon Mr.
'Possum said that Mr. Crow and Mr. '<DW53> might go on with the digging
and he would plant the seeds, as he had been used to such work when he
lived with his uncle Silas as a boy.

[Illustration: ONE SAID IT WAS ONE WAY AND THE OTHER THE OTHER WAY]

So then he took the seeds, but he couldn't remember Mr. Rabbit's adages
which told whether beets and carrots and such things as grow below the
ground had to be planted in the dark of the moon or the light of the
moon, and it was the same about beans and pease and the things that
grow above the ground; and when he spoke to Mr. Crow and Mr. '<DW53> about
it, one said it was one way and the other the other way, and then Mr.
'Possum said he wasn't planting the things in the moon anyhow, and he
thought Mr. Rabbit had made the adages to suit the day he was going to
plant and that they would work either way.

So then Mr. 'Possum planted everything there was, and showed Mr. '<DW53>
how to plant his flower seeds; and when they were all done they stood
off and admired their nice garden, and said it was just about as nice as
Jack Rabbit's, and maybe nicer in some ways, because it had trees around
it and was a pleasant place to work.

Well, after that they got up every morning and went out to look at their
garden, to see if any of the things were coming up; and pretty soon they
found a good _many_ things coming up, but they were not in hills and
rows, and Mr. 'Possum said they were weeds, because he remembered that
Uncle Silas's weeds had always looked like those, and how he and his
little cousins had had to hoe them. So then they got their hoes and hoed
every morning, and by-and-by they had to hoe some during the day too, to
keep up with the weeds, and the sun was pretty hot, and Mr. 'Possum did
most of his hoeing over by the trees where it wasn't so sunny, and said
that hereafter he thought it would be a good plan to plant all their
garden in the shade.

And every day they kept looking for the seeds to come up, and by-and-by
a few did come up, and then they were quite proud, and went over and
told Jack Rabbit about it, and Mr. Rabbit came over to give them some
advice, and said he thought their garden looked pretty well for being
its first year and put in late, though it looked to him, he said, as if
some of it had been planted the wrong time of the moon, and he didn't
think so much shade was very good for most things.

But Mr. 'Possum said he'd rather have more shade and less things, and he
thought next year he'd let his part of the garden out on shares.

Well, it got hotter and hotter, and the weeds grew more and more, and
the Hollow Tree People had to work and hoe and pull nearly all day in
the sun to keep up with them, and they would have given it up pretty
soon, only they wanted to show Jack Rabbit that they could have a garden
too, and by-and-by, when their things got big enough to eat, they were
so proud that they invited Mr. Rabbit to come over for dinner, and they
sent word to Mr. Turtle, too, because he likes good things and lives
alone, not being a family man like Mr. Robin and Mr. Squirrel.

Now of course the Hollow Tree People knew that they had no such fine
things in their garden as Jack Rabbit had in his, and they said they
couldn't expect to, but they'd try to have other things to make up; and
Mr. Crow was cooking for two whole days getting his chicken-pies and his
puddings and such things ready for that dinner. And then when the
morning came for it he was out long before sun-up to pick the things in
the garden while they were nice and fresh, with the dew on them.

But when Mr. Crow looked over his garden he felt pretty bad, for, after
all, the new potatoes were little and tough, and the pease were small
and dry, and the beans were thin and stringy, and the salad was pretty
puny and tasteless, and the corn was just nubbins, because it didn't
grow in a very good place and maybe hadn't been planted or tended very
well. So Mr. Crow walked up and down the rows and thought a good deal,
and finally decided that he'd just take a walk over toward Jack Rabbit's
garden to see if Mr. Rabbit's things were really so much better after
all.

It was just about sunrise, and Mr. Crow knew Jack Rabbit didn't get up
so soon, and he made up his mind he wouldn't wake him when he got there,
but would just take a look over his nice garden and come away again. So
when he got to Mr. Rabbit's back fence he climbed through a crack, and
sat down in the weeds to rest a little and to look around, and he saw
that Mr. Rabbit's house was just as still and closed up as could be,
and no signs of Jack Rabbit anywhere.

So then Mr. Crow stepped out into the corn patch and looked along at the
rows of fine roasting ears, which made him feel sad because of those
little nubbins in his own garden, and then he saw the fine fat pease and
beans and salads in Jack Rabbit's garden, and it seemed to him that Mr.
Rabbit could never in the world use up all those things himself.

[Illustration: MR. CROW DECIDED TO THIN OUT A FEW OF JACK RABBIT'S
THINGS]

Then Mr. Crow decided that he would thin out a few of Jack Rabbit's
things, which seemed to be too thick anyway to do well. It would be too
bad to disturb Mr. Rabbit to tell him about it, and Mr. Crow didn't have
time to wait for him to get up if he was going to get his dinner ready
on time.

So Mr. Crow picked some large ears of corn and some of Mr. Rabbit's best
pease and beans and salads, and filled his apron with all he could
carry, and climbed through the back fence again, and took out for home
without wasting any more time. And when he got there Mr. '<DW53> and Mr.
'Possum were just getting up, and he didn't bother to tell them about
borrowing from Mr. Rabbit's garden, but set out some breakfast, and as
soon as it was over pitched in to get ready for company. Mr. '<DW53> and
Mr. 'Possum flew around, too, to make the room look nice, and by-and-by
everything was ready, and the table was set, and the Hollow Tree People
were all dressed up and looking out the window.

Then pretty soon they saw Mr. Turtle coming through the timber, and just
then Jack Rabbit came in sight from the other direction. Mr. Turtle had
brought a basket of mussels, which always are nice with a big dinner,
like oysters, and Mr. Rabbit said he would have brought some things out
of his garden, only he knew the Hollow Tree People had a garden, too,
this year, and would want to show what they could do in that line
themselves. He said he certainly must take a look at their garden
because he had heard a good deal about it from Mr. Robin.

Then Mr. Crow felt a little chilly, for he happened to think that if Mr.
Rabbit went out into their garden and then saw the fine things which
were going to be on the table he'd wonder where they came from. So he
said right away that dinner was all ready, and they'd better sit down
while things were hot and fresh.

Then they all sat down, and first had the mussels which Mr. Turtle had
brought, and there were some fine sliced tomatoes with them, and Mr.
Rabbit said he hadn't supposed that such fine big tomatoes as those
could come out of a new garden that had been planted late, and that he
certainly must see the vines they came off of before he went home,
because they were just as big as his tomatoes, if not bigger, and he
wanted to see just how they could do so well.

And Mr. Crow felt _real_ chilly, and Mr. '<DW53> and Mr. 'Possum both
said they hadn't supposed their tomatoes were so big and ripe, though
they hadn't looked at them since yesterday. But Mr. Rabbit said that a
good many things could happen over night, and Mr. Crow changed the
subject as quick as he could, and said that things always looked bigger
and better on the table than they did in the garden, but that he'd
picked all the real big, ripe tomatoes and he didn't think there'd be
any more.

Then after the mussels they had the chicken-pie, and when Mr. Rabbit saw
the vegetables that Mr. Crow served with it he looked at them and said:

"My, what fine pease and beans, and what splendid corn! I am sure your
vegetables are as good as anything in my garden, if not better. I
certainly _must see_ just the spot where they grew. I would never have
believed you could have done it, never, if I hadn't seen them right here
on your table with my own eyes."

Then Mr. Turtle said they were the finest he ever tasted, and Mr.
'Possum and Mr. '<DW53> both said they wouldn't have believed it
themselves yesterday, and it was wonderful how much everything had grown
over night. Then the Old Black Crow choked a little and coughed, and
said he didn't seem to relish his food, and pretty soon he said that of
course their garden _had_ done _pretty_ well, but that it was about
through now, as these were things he had been saving for this dinner,
and he had gathered all the biggest and best of them this morning before
Mr. 'Possum and Mr. '<DW53> were up.

When Mr. Crow said that, Jack Rabbit looked the other way and made a
very queer face, and you might have thought he was trying to keep from
laughing if you had seen him, but maybe he was only trying to keep from
coughing, for pretty soon he did cough a little and said that the early
morning was the proper time to gather vegetables; that one could always
pick out the best things then, and do it quietly before folks were up.

Then Mr. Crow felt a cold, shaky chill that went all the way up and
down, and he was afraid to look up, though of course he didn't believe
Mr. Rabbit knew anything about what he had done, only he was afraid that
he would look so guilty that everybody would see it. He said that his
head was a little dizzy with being over the hot stove so much, and he
hoped they wouldn't think of going out until the cool of the evening, as
the sun would be too much for him, and of course he wanted to be with
them.

[Illustration: BRING ON THE SALAD]

Poor Mr. Crow was almost afraid to bring on the salad, but he was just
as afraid not to. Only he did wish he had picked out Mr. Rabbit's
smallest bunches instead of his biggest ones, for he knew there were no
such other salads anywhere as those very ones he had borrowed from Mr.
Rabbit's garden. But he put it off as long as he could, and by-and-by
Jack Rabbit said that there was one thing he was sure the Hollow Tree
couldn't beat him on, and that was salad. He said he had never had such
fine heads as he had this year, and that there were a few heads
especially that he had been saving to show his friends. Then the '<DW53>
and 'Possum said "No," their salads were not very much, unless they had
grown a great deal over night, like the other things--and when Mr. Crow
got up to bring them he walked wobbly, and everybody said it was too bad
that Mr. Crow _would_ always go to so much trouble for company.

Well, when he came in with that bowl of salad and set it down, Mr.
Turtle and Jack Rabbit said, "Did you ever in your life!" But Mr.
'Possum and Mr. '<DW53> just sat and looked at it, for they thought it
couldn't be true.

Then pretty soon Mr. Rabbit said that he would take back everything he
had told them about his salad, and that he was coming over to take some
lessons from the Hollow Tree People, and especially from Mr. Crow, on
how to raise vegetables. He said that there were a good many ways to
raise vegetables--some raised them in a garden; some raised them in a
hothouse; some raised them in the market; but that Mr. Crow's way was
the best way there was, and he was coming over to learn it. He said they
must finish their dinner before dark, for he certainly must _see_ just
where _all_ Mr. Crow's wonderful things came from.

Then Mr. Crow felt the gray spot on his head getting a good deal grayer,
and he dropped his knife and fork, and swallowed two or three times, and
tried to smile, though it was a sickly smile. He said that Mr. Rabbit
was very kind, but that Mr. 'Possum and Mr. '<DW53> had done a good deal
of the work, too.

But Jack Rabbit said "No," that nobody but an industrious person like
Mr. Crow could have raised _those_ vegetables--a person who got up
early, he said, and was used to taking a little trouble to get the best
things.

Then Mr. Crow went after the dessert, and was glad enough that there
were no more vegetables to come, especially of that kind.

And Mr. Rabbit seemed to forget about looking at the garden until they
were all through, and then he said that before they went outside he
would read a little poem he had composed that morning lying in bed and
looking at the sunrise across his own garden. He said he called it:

ME AND MY GARDEN

  Oh, it's nice to have a garden
  On which to put my labors.
  It's nice to have a garden
  Especially for my neighbors.

  I like to see it growing
  When skies are blue above me;
  I like to see it gathered
  By those who really love me.

  I like to think in winter
  Of pleasant summer labors;
  Oh, it's nice to have a garden
  Especially for my neighbors.

Everybody said that was a nice poem and sounded just like Mr. Rabbit,
who was always so free-hearted--all except Mr. Crow, who tried to say it
was nice, and couldn't. Then Mr. Rabbit said they'd better go out now to
see the Hollow Tree garden, but Mr. Crow said really he couldn't stand
it yet, and they could see by his looks that he was feeling pretty sick,
and Mr. Turtle said it was too bad to think of taking Mr. Crow out in
the sun when he had worked so hard.

So then they all sat around and smoked and told stories, and whenever
they stopped Mr. Crow thought of something else to do and seemed to get
better toward night, and got a great deal better when it got dark, and
Mr. Jack Rabbit said all at once that now it was too late to see the
Hollow Tree garden, and that he was so sorry, for he knew he could have
learned something if he could just have one look at it, for nobody could
see those vegetables and that garden without learning a great deal.

[Illustration: JACK RABBIT CAPERED AND LAUGHED ALL THE WAY HOME]

Then he said he must go, and Mr. Turtle said he guessed _he_ must go
too, so they both set out for home, and when Jack Rabbit got out of
sight of the Hollow Tree and into a little open moonlight place, he just
laid down on the ground and rolled over and laughed and kicked his feet,
and sat up and rocked and looked at the moon and laughed; and he capered
and laughed all the way home at the good joke he had all to himself on
Mr. Crow.

For Mr. Rabbit had been lying awake in bed that morning when Mr. Crow
was in his garden, and he had seen Mr. Crow _all_ the time.




WHEN JACK RABBIT WAS A LITTLE BOY




WHEN JACK RABBIT WAS A LITTLE BOY

A STORY OF A VERY LONG TIME AGO


The Little Lady skips first on one foot and then on the other foot,
around and around, until pretty soon she tumbles backward into _twelve
flower-pots_.

That, of course, makes a great damage, and though the Little Lady
herself isn't hurt to speak of, she is frightened very much and has to
be comforted by everybody, including the Story Teller, who comes last,
and finishes up by telling about something that happened to Jack Rabbit
when _he_ was little.

Once upon a time, it begins, when Mr. Jack Rabbit was quite small, his
mother left him all alone one afternoon while she went across the Wide
Grass Lands to visit an old aunt of hers and take her some of the nice
blackberries she had been putting up that morning. Mrs. Rabbit had been
very busy all the forenoon, and little Jack had been watching her and
making believe he was putting up berries too.

And when Mrs. Rabbit got through she had cleaned her stove and polished
it as nice as could be; then she gave little Jack Rabbit his dinner,
with some of the berries that were left over, and afterward she washed
his face and hands and found his blocks for him to play with, besides a
new stick of red sealing-wax--the kind she used to seal her cans with;
for they did not have patent screw-top cans in those days, but always
sealed the covers on with red sealing-wax.

[Illustration: TOOK HER PARASOL AND HER RETICULE AND A CAN OF BERRIES,
AND STARTED]

Then Mrs. Rabbit told little Jack that he could play with his blocks,
and build houses, with the red stick for a chimney, and to be a good boy
until she came home. So little Jack Rabbit promised, and Mrs. Rabbit
kissed him twice and took her parasol and her reticule and a can of
berries, and started. Little Jack would have gone with her, only it was
too far.

Well, after she had left, little Jack played with his blocks and built
houses and set the stick of sealing-wax up for a brick chimney, and
by-and-by he played he was canning fruit, and he wished he could have a
little stove and little cans and a little stick of sealing-wax, so he
could really do it all just as she did.

Then little Jack Rabbit looked at the nice polished stove and wondered
how it would be to use that, and to build a little fire in it--just a
_little_ fire--which would make everything seem a good deal more real,
he thought, than his make-believe stove of blocks.

And pretty soon little Jack opened the stove door and looked in, and
when he stirred the ashes there were still a few live coals there, and
when he put in some shavings they blazed up, and when he put in some
pieces of old shingles and things they blazed up too, and when he put in
some of Mrs. Rabbit's nice dry wood the stove got _quite hot_!

Then little Jack Rabbit became somewhat frightened, for he had only
meant to make a very small fire, and he thought this might turn into a
big fire. Also, he remembered some things his mother had told him about
playing with fire and about _never going near a hot stove_. He thought
he'd better open the stove door a little to see if the fire was getting
too big, but he was afraid to touch it with his fingers for fear of
burning them. He had seen his mother use a stick or something to open
the stove door when it was hot, so he picked up the first thing that
came handy, which was the stick of sealing-wax. But when he touched it
to the hot door the red stick sputtered a little and left a bright red
spot on the stove door.

Then little Jack forgot all about putting up blackberries, admiring that
beautiful red spot on the shiny black stove, and thinking how nice it
would be to make some more like it, which he thought would improve the
looks of the stove a great deal.

[Illustration: AND HE MADE SOME STRIPES, TOO--MOSTLY ON TOP OF THE
STOVE]

So then he touched it again in another place and made another spot, and
in another place and made another spot, and in a lot of places and made
a lot of spots, and he made some stripes, too--mostly on top of the
stove, which was nice and smooth to mark on, though he made _some_ on
the pipe. You would hardly have known it was the same stove when he got
all through, and little Jack thought how beautiful it was and how
pleased his mother would be when she got home and _saw_ it. But then
right away he happened to think that perhaps she might not be so pleased
after all, and the more he thought about it the more sure he was that
she wouldn't like her nice red-striped and spotted stove as well as a
black one; and, besides, she had told him _never_ to play with fire.

[Illustration: LITTLE JACK KNEW PERFECTLY WELL THAT SHE WASN'T AT ALL
PLEASED]

And just at that moment Mrs. Rabbit herself stepped in the door! And
when she looked at her red-spotted and striped stove and then at little
Jack Rabbit, little Jack knew perfectly well without her saying a single
word that she wasn't _at all pleased_. So he began to cry very loud, and
started to run, and tripped over his blocks and fell against a little
stand-table that had Mrs. Rabbit's work-basket on it (for Mrs. Rabbit
always knit or sewed while she was cooking anything), and all the spools
and buttons and knitting-work went tumbling, with little Jack Rabbit
right among them, holloing, "Oh, I'm killed! I'm killed!"--just
sprawling there on the floor, afraid to get up, and expecting every
minute his mother would do something awful.

But Mrs. Rabbit just stood and looked at him over her spectacles and
then at her red-spotted and striped stove, and pretty soon she said:

"Well, this is a lovely mess to come home to!"

Which of course made little Jack take on a good deal worse and keep on
bawling out that he was killed, until Mrs. Rabbit told him that he was
making a good deal of noise for a _dead_ man, and that if he'd get up
and pick up all the things he'd upset maybe he'd come to life again.

Then little Jack Rabbit got up and ran to his mother and cried against
her best dress and got some tears on it, and Mrs. Rabbit sat down in her
rocker and looked at her stove and rocked him until he felt better. And
by-and-by she changed her dress and went to cleaning her stove while
little Jack picked up all the things--all the spools and buttons and
needles and knitting-work--every single thing.

[Illustration: PROMISED NEVER TO DISOBEY HIS MOTHER AGAIN]

And after supper, when he said his prayers and went to bed, he promised
never to disobey his mother again.




A HOLLOW TREE PICNIC




A HOLLOW TREE PICNIC

THE LITTLE LADY AND THE STORY TELLER, AND THEIR FRIENDS


Not far from the House of Low Ceilings, which stands on the borders of
the Big Deep Woods, there is a still smaller house, where, in
summertime, the Story Teller goes to make up things and write them down.

And one warm day he is writing away and not noticing what time it is
when he thinks he hears somebody step in the door. So then he looks
around, and he sees a little straw hat and a little round red face under
it, and then he sees a basket, and right away he knows it is the Little
Lady. And the Little Lady says:

"I've brought the picnic--did you know it?"

"Why, no!" the Story Teller says, looking surprised. "Is it time?"

"Yes, and I've got huckleberries and cream, and some hot biscuits."

"Good gracious! Let's see!"

So then the Story Teller looks, and, sure enough, there they are, and
more things, too; and pretty soon the Little Lady and he go down to a
very quiet place under some hemlock-trees by a big rock where there is a
clear brook and a spring close by, and they sit down, and the Little
Lady spreads the picnic all out--and there is ham too, and
bread-and-butter, and doughnuts and they are so hungry that they eat
everything, and both dip into one bowl when they get to huckleberries
and cream.

Then the Little Lady says:

"Now tell me about the Hollow Tree People; they have picnics, too."

"Sure enough, they do. And I think I'll have to tell you about their
very last picnic and what happened."

Well, once upon a time Mr. 'Possum said that he was getting tired of
sitting down to a table every meal in a close room with the smell of
cooking coming in, and if Mr. Crow would cook up a few things that would
taste good cold he'd pack the basket (that is, Mr. 'Possum would) and
Mr. '<DW53> could carry it, and they'd go out somewhere and eat their
dinner in a nice place under the trees.

Mr. '<DW53> said he knew a pleasant place to go, and Mr. Crow said he'd
cook one of Mr. Man's chickens, which Mr. 'Possum had brought home the
night before, though it would take time, he said, because it was pretty
old--Mr. 'Possum having picked it out in the dark in a hurry.

[Illustration: AND HE TASTED OF THAT A LITTLE, TOO]

So then they all flew around and put away things, and Mr. Crow got the
chicken on while Mr. '<DW53> sliced the bread and Mr. 'Possum cut the
cake, which they had been saving for Sunday, and he picked out a pie
too, and a nice book to read which Mr. Crow had found lying in Mr. Man's
yard while the folks were at dinner. Then he packed the basket all neat
and nice, and ate a little piece of the cake when Mr. '<DW53> had stepped
out to see how the chicken was coming along, and when the chicken was
ready he cut it all up nicely, and he tasted of that a little, too,
while Mr. Crow was getting on his best picnic things to go.

And pretty soon they all started out, and it was so bright and sunny
that Mr. 'Possum began to sing a little, and Mr. '<DW53> told him not to
make a noise like that or they'd have company--Mr. Dog or Mr. Fox or
somebody--when there was only just enough chicken for themselves, which
made Mr. 'Possum stop right away. And before long they came to a very
quiet place under some thick hemlock-trees behind a stone wall and close
to a brook of clear water.

That was the place Mr. '<DW53> had thought of, and they sat down there and
spread out all the things on some moss, and everything looked so nice
that Mr. 'Possum said they ought to come here every day and eat dinner
as long as the hot weather lasted. Then they were all so hungry that
they began on the chicken right away, and Mr. 'Possum said that maybe he
_might_ have picked out a tenderer one, but that he didn't think he
could have found a bigger one, or one that would have lasted longer, and
that, after all, size and lasting were what one needed for a picnic.

[Illustration: MR. POSSUM LEANED HIS BACK AGAINST A TREE AND READ
HIMSELF TO SLEEP]

So they ate first one thing and then another, and Mr. '<DW53> asked if
they remembered the time Mr. Dog had come to one of their picnics before
they were friends with him, when he'd really been invited to stay away;
and they all laughed when they thought how Mr. Rabbit had excused
himself, and the others, too, one after another, until Mr. Dog had the
picnic mostly to himself. And by-and-by the Hollow Tree People lit their
pipes and smoked, and Mr. 'Possum leaned his back against a tree and
read himself to sleep, and dreamed, and had a kind of a nightmare about
that other picnic, and talked in his sleep about it, which made Mr.
'<DW53> think of something to do.

So then Mr. '<DW53> got some long grass and made a strong band of it and
very carefully tied Mr. 'Possum to the tree, and just as Mr. 'Possum
began to have his dream again and was saying "Oh! Oh! here comes Mr.
Dog!" Mr. '<DW53> gave three loud barks right in Mr. 'Possum's ear, and
Mr. Crow said "Wake up! Wake up, Mr. 'Possum! Here he comes!"

And Mr. 'Possum did wake up, and jumped and jerked at that band, and
holloed out as loud as he could:

"Oh, please let me go, Mr. Dog! Oh, please let me go, Mr. Dog!" for he
thought it was Mr. Dog that had him, and he forgot all about them being
friends.

But just then he happened to see Mr. Crow and Mr. '<DW53> rolling on the
ground and laughing, and he looked down to see what had him and found he
was tied to a tree, and he knew that they had played a joke on him. That
made him pretty mad at first, and he said if he ever got loose he'd pay
them back for their smartness.

[Illustration: SO MR. 'POSSUM PROMISED, AND MR. '<DW53> UNTIED HIM]

Then Mr. '<DW53> told him he most likely never would get loose if he
didn't promise not to do anything, so Mr. 'Possum promised, and Mr. <DW53>
untied him. Mr. 'Possum said he guessed the chicken must have been
pretty hard to digest, and he knew it was pretty salty, for he was dying
for a good cold drink.

Then Mr. '<DW53> said he knew where there was a spring over beyond the
wall that had colder water than the brook, and he'd show them the way to
it. So they climbed over the wall and slipped through the bushes to the
spring, and all took a nice cold drink, and just as they raised their
heads from drinking they heard somebody say something. And they all kept
perfectly still and listened, and they heard it again, just beyond some
bushes.

[Illustration: "AND WHAT DO YOU THINK THEY SAW?"]

So then they crept softly in among the green leaves and branches and
looked through, and what do you think they saw?

The Story Teller turns to the Little Lady, who seems a good deal
excited.

"Why, why, what did they see?" she says. "Tell me, quick!"

"Why," the Story Teller goes on, "they saw the Little Lady and the Story
Teller having a picnic too, with all the nice things spread out by a
rock, under the hemlock-trees."

"Oh," gasps the Little Lady, "did they really see us? and are they there
now?"

"They might be," says the Story Teller. "The Hollow Tree People slip
around very softly. Anyway, they were there then, and it was the first
time they had ever seen the Little Lady and the Story Teller so close.
And they watched them until they were all through with their picnic and
had gathered up their things. Then the '<DW53> and the 'Possum and Old
Black Crow slipped away again, and crept over the wall and gathered up
their own things and set out for home very happy."

The Little Lady grasps the Story Teller's hand.

"Let's go and see their picnic place!" she says. "They may be there
now."

So the Little Lady and the Story Teller go softly down to the spring
and get a drink; then they creep across to the mossy stone wall and peer
over, and there, sure enough, is a green mossy place in the shade, the
very place to spread a picnic; and the Little Lady jumps and says "Oh!"
for she sees something brown whisk into the bushes. Anyhow, she knows
the Hollow Tree People have been there, for there is a little piece of
paper on the moss which they must have used to wrap up something, and
she thinks they most likely heard her coming and are just gone.

So the Story Teller lifts her over the wall, and they sit down on the
green moss of the Hollow Tree picnic place, and she leans up against him
and listens to the singing of the brook, and the Story Teller sings
softly too, until by-and-by the Little Lady is asleep.

And it may be, as they sit there and drowse and dream, that the Hollow
Tree People creep up close and watch them.

Who knows?

[Illustration]






End of Project Gutenberg's The Hollow Tree Snowed-In, by Albert Bigelow Paine

*** 