{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_23869/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_23869","id":"gutenberg_23869","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/23869","summary":null,"tags":["Animals -- Juvenile fiction","Category: American Literature","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Children's Literature","Children's stories","Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Rabbits -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from scans of public domain material produced by\nMicrosoft for their Live Search Books site.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n       LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER\n         AND HIS QUEER COUNTRY\n\n  What the Children Saw and Heard there\n\n\n                  BY\n\n          JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS\n      AUTHOR OF \"UNCLE REMUS,\" ETC.\n\n\n     _ILLUSTRATED BY OLIVER HERFORD_\n\n\n            [Illustration]\n\n\n          BOSTON AND NEW YORK\n     HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY\n     The Riverside Press, Cambridge\n                 1895\n\n\n\n\nCopyright, 1894,\nBY JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS AND\nHOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.\n\n\n_All rights reserved._\n\n\n_The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A._\nElectrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton and Company\n\n\n\n\n    Books by Joel Chandler Harris.\n\n\n    NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS. Illustrated.\n    12mo, $1.50; paper, 50 cents.\n\n    MINGO, AND OTHER SKETCHES IN BLACK\n    AND WHITE. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.\n\n    BALAAM AND HIS MASTER, AND OTHER\n    SKETCHES. 16mo, $1.25.\n\n    UNCLE REMUS AND HIS FRIENDS. Illustrated.\n    12mo, $1.50.\n\n    LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER AND HIS\n    QUEER COUNTRY. Illustrated. Crown 8vo,\n    $2.00\n\n    HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.\n    BOSTON AND NEW YORK.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: MR. RABBIT FELL KERTHUMP. Page 41.]\n\n\n\n\nA LITTLE NOTE TO A LITTLE BOOK.\n\n\nThe stories that follow belong to three categories. Some of them were\ngathered from the negroes, but were not embodied in the tales of Uncle\nRemus, because I was not sure they were negro stories; some are Middle\nGeorgia folklore stories, and no doubt belong to England; and some are\nmerely inventions.\n\nThey were all written in the midst of daily work on a morning\nnewspaper,--a fact that will account in some measure for their crude\nsetting.\n\n                                                    J. C. H.\n    WEST END, ATLANTA, GA.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                             PAGE\n        I. THE GRANDMOTHER OF THE DOLLS                         5\n\n       II. MR. THIMBLEFINGER'S QUEER COUNTRY                   17\n\n      III. MR. THIMBLEFINGER'S FRIENDS                         33\n\n       IV. TWO QUEER STORIES                                   47\n\n        V. THE TALKING-SADDLE                                  61\n\n       VI. THE TALKING-SADDLE AND THE THIEF                    73\n\n      VII. THE LADDER OF LIONS                                 86\n\n     VIII. BROTHER TERRAPIN'S FIDDLE-STRING                   101\n\n       IX. THE LOOKING-GLASS CHILDREN                         110\n\n        X. MR. RABBIT AS A RAIN-MAKER                         121\n\n       XI. HOW BROTHER BEAR'S HAIR WAS COMBED                 131\n\n      XII. A SINGING-MATCH                                    139\n\n     XIII. THE STRAWBERRY-GIRL                                147\n\n      XIV. THE WITCH OF THE WELL                              155\n\n       XV. THE BEWITCHED HUNTSMAN                             165\n\n      XVI. THE THREE IVORY BOBBINS                            175\n\n     XVII. \"KEEN-POINT,\" \"COB-HANDLE,\" AND \"BUTCH\"            185\n\n    XVIII. MRS. MEADOWS RESUMES HER STORY                     195\n\n      XIX. A STORY OF THE RIVER                               215\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n                                                             PAGE\n    MR. RABBIT FELL KERTHUMP (Page 41)             _Frontispiece_\n\n    RAG-TAG ROLLING OUT OF THE CORNER                          10\n\n    THE GRANDMOTHER OF THE DOLLS AND THE BIG BLACK CAT         14\n\n    SWEETEST SUSAN WAKING UP                                   18\n\n    FOLLOWING LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER                         24\n\n    MR. RABBIT AND MRS. MEADOWS                                36\n\n    MR. BILLY-GOAT AND MR. WOLF                                52\n\n    MY MOTHER WASHING THE OLD MAN'S COAT AND WAISTCOAT         56\n\n    DRUSILLA WAITING ON MR. RABBIT                             62\n\n    TIP-TOP AND THE MAYOR                                      68\n\n    THE MAYOR PARDONING THE THIEF                              82\n\n    CHICKAMY CRANY CROW AND TICKLE-MY-TOES                     84\n\n    MR. RABBIT BANDAGING BROTHER LION'S PAW                    92\n\n    THE LADDER OF LIONS                                        98\n\n    MR. RABBIT FIDDLING FOR BROTHER TERRAPIN                  104\n\n    BROTHER TERRAPIN TUMBLING INTO THE CREEK                  108\n\n    SWEETEST SUSAN, MEETING HER REFLECTION                    110\n\n    THEY ALL PLUNGED INTO THE LOOKING-GLASS                   118\n\n    MR. RABBIT SAYING NOTHING                                 124\n\n    BROTHER BEAR ARGUING THE RAIN QUESTION                    128\n\n    MRS. BEAR HANGING OUT CLOTHES                             134\n\n    LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER                                  140\n\n    THE SINGING-MATCH                                         144\n\n    GRANNY GRIM-EYE FINDS A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL ASLEEP      148\n\n    THE LITTLE OLD MAN DISCOVERS THE STRAWBERRY-GIRL          150\n\n    THE GOLDEN-HAIRED, BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL                  164\n\n    THE LITTLE OLD MAN, THREE WITS, AND THE STAG              174\n\n    THE STAG AND THE WITCH                                    180\n\n    THE LITTLE GIRL AND THE OLD MAN                           192\n\n    VALENTINE SLAYING THE SPIDER                              210\n\n    VALENTINE TALKING TO THE RIVER                            220\n\n    BUSTER JOHN SHAKING HANDS WITH MR. RABBIT                 228\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER AND HIS QUEER COUNTRY.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nTHE GRANDMOTHER OF THE DOLLS.\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived on a plantation, in the very middle of\nMiddle Georgia, a little girl and a little boy and their negro nurse.\nThe little girl's name was Sweetest Susan. That was the name her\nmother gave her when she was a baby, and she was so good-tempered that\neverybody continued to call her Sweetest Susan when she grew older.\nShe was seven years old. The little boy's name was Buster John. That\nwas the name his father had given him. Buster John was eight. The\nnurse's name was Drusilla, and she was twelve. Drusilla was called a\nnurse, but that was just a habit people had. She was more of a child\nthan either Sweetest Susan or Buster John, but she was very much\nlarger. She was their playmate--their companion, and a capital one\nshe made.\n\nSweetest Susan had black hair and dark eyes like her father, while\nBuster John had golden hair and brown eyes like his mother. As for\nDrusilla, she was as black as the old black cat, and always in a good\nhumor, except when she pretended to be angry. Sweetest Susan had\nwonderful dark eyes that made her face very serious except when she\nlaughed, but she was as full of fun as Buster John, who was always in\nsome sort of mischief that did nobody any harm.\n\nThese children were not afraid of anything. They scorned to run from\nhorses, or cows, or dogs. They were born on the big plantation, and\nthey spent the greater part of the day out of doors, save when the\nweather was very cold or very wet. They had no desire to stay in the\nhouse, except when they were compelled to go to bed, and a great many\ntimes they fretted a little because they thought bedtime came too\nsoon.\n\nSweetest Susan had a great many dolls, and she was very fond of them.\nShe had a China Doll, a Jip-jap Doll, a Rag Doll, a Rubber Doll, a\nWhite Doll, a Brown Doll, and a Black Doll. Sometimes she and\nDrusilla would play with the Dolls out in the yard, and sometimes\nBuster John would join them when he had nothing better to do. But\nevery evening Sweetest Susan and Drusilla would carry the Dolls into\nthe bedroom and place them side by side against the wall. Sweetest\nSusan wanted them placed there, she said, so she could see her\nchildren the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning.\n\nBut one night Sweetest Susan went to bed crying, and this was so\nunusual that Drusilla forgot to put the Dolls in their places.\nSweetest Susan's feelings were hurt. She had not been very good, and\nher mother had called her Naughty Susan instead of Sweetest Susan.\nBuster John, in the next room, wanted to know what the matter was, but\nSweetest Susan wouldn't tell him, and neither would she tell Drusilla.\nAfter a while Sweetest Susan's mother came in and kissed her. That\nhelped her some, but she lay awake ever so long sobbing a little and\nthinking how she must do so as not to be called Naughty Susan.\n\nDrusilla lay on a pallet near Sweetest Susan's bed, but, for a wonder,\nDrusilla lay awake too. She said nothing, but she was not snoring,\nand Sweetest Susan could see the whites of her eyes shining. The fire\nthat had been kindled on the hearth so as to give a light (for the\nweather was not cold) flickered and flared, and little blue flames\ncrept about over the sputtering pine-knot, jumping off into the air\nand then jumping back. The blue flames flickered and danced and crept\nabout so, and caused such a commotion among the shadows that were\nrunning about the room and trying to hide themselves behind the chairs\nand in the corners, that the big brass andirons seemed to be alive.\n\nWhile Sweetest Susan was lying there watching the shadows and\nwondering when Drusilla would go to sleep, she heard a voice call\nout,--\n\n\"Oh, dear! I believe I've got smut all over my frock again!\"\n\nIt was the queerest little voice that ever was heard. It had a tinkling\nsound, such as Susan had often made when she tied her mother's gold\nthimble to a string and struck it with a knitting-needle. Just as she\nwas wondering where it came from, a little old woman stepped from\nbehind one of the andirons and shook the ashes from her dress.\n\n\"I think I'd better stay at home,\" said the little old woman, \"if I\ncan't come down the chimney without getting smut all over my frock. I\nwonder where Mr. Thimblefinger is?\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm here,\" exclaimed another tinkling voice from the fireplace,\n\"but I'm not coming in. They are not asleep, and, even if they were, I\nsee the big Black Cat in that chair there.\"\n\n\"Much I care!\" cried the little old woman snappishly. \"I'll call you\nwhen I want you.\"\n\nThen she went around the room where Sweetest Susan's Dolls were\nscattered, and looked at each one as it lay asleep. Then she shook her\nhead and sighed.\n\n\"They look as if they were tired, poor things!\" she said. \"And no\nwonder! I expect they have been pulled and hauled about and dragged\naround from pillar to post since I was here last.\"\n\nThen the little old woman touched the Dolls with her cane, one by one.\nEach Doll called out as it was touched,--\n\n\"Is that you, Granny?\"\n\nAnd to each one she replied:--\n\n    \"Reser, roser, rise!\n    And rib and rub your eyes!\"\n\nSweetest Susan was not at all alarmed. She felt as if she had been\nexpecting something of the kind. The Dolls arose and ranged themselves\nin front of the fireplace--all except the Rag Doll.\n\n\"Where's Rag-Tag?\" inquired the little old woman anxiously.\n\n\"Here I am, Granny!\" replied the Rag Doll. \"I'm lame in one leg and I\ncan't walk with the other, and my arm's out of joint.\"\n\n\"Tut! tut!\" said the little old woman. \"How can you be lame in your\nlegs when there's no bone in them? How can your arm be out of joint\nwhen there's no joint? Get up!\"\n\nRag-Tag rolled out of the corner and tumbled across the floor, heels\nover head.\n\n\"Now, then,\" said the little old woman, opening her satchel, \"what can\nI do for you?\"\n\n\"She's pulled all my hair out!\" whispered the China Doll.\n\n\"She's mashed my nose flat!\" cried the Jip-jap Doll.\n\n\"She's put one of my eyes out!\" whined the Brown Doll.\n\n\"She's put chalk all over me!\" blubbered the Black Doll.\n\n[Illustration: RAG-TAG ROLLING OUT OF THE CORNER]\n\n\"She hasn't hurt me!\" exclaimed the Rubber Doll.\n\n\"She's made a hole in my back, and the sawdust is all running out!\"\nwhined Rag-Tag.\n\n\"I'll attend to you first, before you bleed to death,\" said the little\nold woman, frowning. Then she rapped on the floor with her cane and\ncried out:--\n\n    \"Long-Legged Spinner,\n    Come earn your dinner!\"\n\nWhile Sweetest Susan was wondering what this meant, she saw a big\nBlack Spider swing down from the ceiling and hang, dangling close to\nthe little old woman's face. Its little eyes sparkled like coals of\nfire, and its hairy mouth worked as if it were chewing something.\nSweetest Susan shivered as she looked at it, but she didn't scream.\n\n\"A thimbleful of fresh cobwebs, Long-Legged Spinner!\" said the little\nold woman, in a businesslike way.\n\nThen the big Black Spider moved his legs faster than a cat can wink\nher eyes, and in a few seconds the fresh cobwebs were spun.\n\n\"That is very nice,\" said the little old woman. \"Here's a fat\nBluebottle for you.\"\n\nThe big Black Spider seized the Fly and ran nimbly to the ceiling\nagain. The Fly buzzed and buzzed in a pitiful way, and Sweetest Susan\nthought to herself, \"Oh, what should I do if that was poor me!\"\n\nThen the little old woman hunted in her satchel until she found a\npiece of mutton suet, and with this and the fresh cobwebs she quickly\nstopped the hole in Rag-Tag's back. This done, she went around and\ndoctored each one. She glued more hair on the China Doll. She fixed\nthe nose of the Jip-jap Doll. She gave a new blue eye to the Brown\nDoll.\n\n\"There!\" she exclaimed when she had finished, \"I think you look a\nlittle more like yourself now. But you would look a great deal better\nif you had any clothes fit to wear. Now pay attention! What is the\nname of this horrible giantess that drags you about and beats you so?\"\n\n\"It's no giantess, Granny,\" replied Rag-Tag. \"It's a little girl, and\nsometimes she's very, very good.\"\n\n\"Hush!\" cried the little old woman. \"Speak when you are spoken to.\"\n\n\"She _is_ a giantess, Granny,\" said the Brown Doll. \"She's taller than\nthat chair yonder.\"\n\n\"Where is she now?\" the little old woman asked fiercely.\n\n\"She's asleep in the bed, Granny,\" said the Brown Doll.\n\n\"Pinch her good, Granny!\" cried the Wax Doll. \"Put out her eyes!\"\n\n\"Scratch her, Granny! Pull out her hair!\" pleaded the Brown Doll.\n\n\"Bump her head against the wall, Granny! Mash her nose!\" exclaimed the\nJip-jap Doll.\n\nThe Rag-Tag Doll said not a word.\n\nAll this time the little old woman was searching in her satchel for\nsomething, and Sweetest Susan began to get frightened.\n\n\"I've come off without my specs,\" said the little old woman, \"and I\ncan't see a stiver with such a light as this.\"\n\nJust then the big Black Cat that had been sleeping quietly in a chair\nrose and stretched himself and gaped, showing his long white teeth. He\njumped to the floor and walked back and forth purring and rubbing\nagainst the little old woman in a friendly way.\n\n\"Get out! You'll push me over,\" she cried. \"Oh, will you go away? I'll\nstick you with my needle! I certainly will! Keep your long tail out of\nmy face! Oh, how can I see to do anything? Will you go away? I'll hit\nyou as sure as I am standing here!\"\n\n\"Don't,\" said the big Black Cat, stopping and looking straight at the\nlittle old woman. \"Don't you know it brings bad luck to hit a black\ncat?\"\n\n\"If I hit you, you'll feel it,\" cried the little old woman.\n\n\"Stop,\" exclaimed the big Black Cat. \"I know what you are here for. Do\nyou see my eyes? They are as green as grass. Do you see my teeth? They\nare as strong as iron. Do you see my claws? They are as sharp as\nneedles. If I look at you hard you'll shiver; if I bite you you'll\nsquall; if I scratch you you'll bleed.\"\n\nThe Grandmother of the Dolls looked at the big Black Cat long and\nhard.\n\n\"Do I know you?\" she asked.\n\n\"I know you,\" replied the Black Cat.\n\n\"What is your name?\" she asked.\n\n[Illustration: THE GRANDMOTHER OF THE DOLLS AND THE BIG BLACK CAT]\n\n\"Billy-Billy Blackfoot.\"\n\n\"It is time for you to go hunting,\" she said. She wanted to get him\nout of the room.\n\n\"I have found what I was hunting for,\" said Billy-Billy Blackfoot.\n\n\"There's a rat gnawing in the pantry.\"\n\n\"He'll be fatter when I catch him.\"\n\n\"There's a piece of cheese in the dining-room.\"\n\n\"It won't spoil until I eat it.\"\n\n\"There's a pan of milk in the kitchen.\"\n\n\"It won't turn sour till I drink it.\"\n\n\"There's catnip in the garden.\"\n\n\"It will grow till I want it.\"\n\nThe Grandmother of the Dolls then made a cross-mark on the carpet and\nwaved her cane in the air. This was done to put a spell on Billy-Billy\nBlackfoot, but before the spell could work Billy-Billy made a circle\nby chasing his tail around. Then he glared at the little old woman and\nslowly closed one eye. This was too much. The Grandmother of the Dolls\nseized her cane and made a furious attack on Billy-Billy Blackfoot,\nbut he leaped nimbly out of the way and the cane fell with a whack on\nthe bald head of the Brown Doll.\n\nAt this there was a tremendous uproar. The Brown Doll screamed:\n\"Murder!\" Billy-Billy Blackfoot's tail swelled to twice its natural\nsize; the hair-brush fell on the floor; the dustpan rattled; the\nshovel and tongs staggered out from the chimney-corner and rolled over\non the hearth; the Dolls scrambled and scurried under the bed, and the\nlittle old woman whisked up the chimney like a spark from a burning\nlog.\n\nWhen Sweetest Susan raised up in bed to look around she saw Drusilla\nsitting on her pallet rubbing her eyes, but Billy-Billy Blackfoot was\nsitting by the fireplace washing his face as quietly as if nothing had\nhappened. At first it seemed to Sweetest Susan that it had all been a\ndream, but presently she heard a small voice that came down the\nchimney:\n\n\"Mr. Thimblefinger! Mr. Thimblefinger! It is nine minutes after\ntwelve.\" There was a pause, and then the small voice sounded farther\naway, like an echo, \"Nine minutes and two seconds after twelve!\"\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nMR. THIMBLEFINGER'S QUEER COUNTRY.\n\n\nThe next morning Sweetest Susan was awake early. She wanted very much\nto turn over and go to sleep again, for her eyes were heavy and her\nbody was tired. But the moment she remembered the wonderful events of\nthe night before, she sat up in bed and looked around. Drusilla was\nstill asleep and snoring very loudly, but Sweetest Susan jumped out of\nbed and shook her by the shoulder.\n\n\"Drusilla! Drusilla! wake up!\" cried Sweetest Susan. Drusilla stopped\nshort in her snoring and turned over with a groan. She kept her eyes\nclosed, and in a moment she would have been snoring again, but\nSweetest Susan continued to shake her and called her until she\nsqualled out:--\n\n\"Who dat? What you want? Oh, Lordy!\"\n\n\"Wake up, Drusilla,\" said Sweetest Susan, \"I want to ask you\nsomething.\"\n\n\"Ain't I 'wake? How kin I be any 'waker when I'm 'wake? Oh, is dat\nyou, honey? I wuz skeer'd 't was dat lil' bit er ol' 'oman. Whar she\ngone? Las' time I seed her she wuz des walkin' 'roun' here like she\nwuz gwine ter tromple on me. I laid low, I did.\"\n\nSweetest Susan clasped her hands together and cried: \"Oh, wasn't it a\ndream, Drusilla? Did it all happen sure enough?\"\n\nDrusilla shook her head wildly. \"How kin we bofe have de same kind er\ndream? I seed de 'oman gwine on, en you seed 'er gwine on. Uh-uh!\nDon't talk ter me 'bout no dreams.\"\n\nThe whole matter was settled when Buster John cried out from the next\nroom: \"What fuss was that you were making in there last night,\nsquealing and squeaking?\"\n\nThe matter was soon explained to Buster John, and after breakfast the\nchildren went out and sat on the big wood-pile and talked it all over.\nThe boy asked a hundred questions, but still his curiosity was not\nsatisfied.\n\nAll this time the birds were singing in the trees and the wood-sawyers\nsawing in the pine logs. Jo-reeter, jo-reeter, jo-ree! sang the\nbirds. Craik, craik, craik, went the wood-sawyers.\n\n[Illustration: SWEETEST SUSAN WAKING UP]\n\n\"There are fifty dozen of them,\" said Buster John.\n\n\"Fifty-five thousand you'd better say,\" replied Sweetest Susan. \"Just\nlisten!\"\n\n\"No needs ter listen,\" cried Drusilla. \"You'd hear 'em ef you plugged\nup yo' years.\"\n\nBuster John put his knife-blade under a thick piece of pine bark and\npried it up to find one of the busy sawyers. The bark was strong, but\npresently it seemed to come up of its own accord, and out jumped the\nqueerest little man they had ever seen or even heard of except in\nmake-believe story-books. Buster John dropped his knife, and down it\nwent into the wood-pile. He could hear it go rattling from log to log\nnearly to the bottom. Sweetest Susan gave a little screech. Drusilla\nsat bolt upright and exclaimed:--\n\n\"You all better come en go see yo' ma. I want ter see 'er myse'f.\"\n\nBut there was nothing to be frightened at. The tiny man had brushed\nthe dust and trash from his clothes, and then turned to the children\nwith a good-humored smile. He was not above four inches high. He had\non a dress-coat. Drusilla afterward described it as a claw-hammer\ncoat, velveteen knickerbockers, and silver buckles on his shoes. His\nhat was shaped like a thimble, and he had a tiny feather stuck in the\nside of it.\n\n\"I'm much obliged to you for getting me out of that scrape,\" he said\nwith a bow to all the children. \"It was a pretty tight place. I stayed\nout last night just one second and a half too late, and when I went to\ngo home I found the door shut. So I just crawled under the bark there\nfor a nap. The log must have turned in some way, for when I woke up\nand tried to crawl out I found I couldn't manage it. I wouldn't have\nminded that so much, but just then I saw one of those terrible\nflat-headed creatures making his way toward me. Why, his head was a\nsawmill! He was gnawing the wood out of his way and clearing a road to\nme. I tried to draw my sword, but I couldn't get it from under me.\nThen I felt the bark rising. I pushed as hard as I could, and here I\nam.\"\n\n\"Ax 'im his name,\" said Drusilla in an awe-stricken tone.\n\n\"Ah, I forgot,\" responded the little man. \"I know you, but you don't\nknow me. My name is Mr. Thimblefinger, and I shall be happy to serve\nyou. Whenever you want me just tap three times on the head of your\nbed.\"\n\n\"Thank goodness! I don't sleep in no bed,\" exclaimed Drusilla.\n\n\"That makes no difference,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger. \"If you sleep on a\npallet just tap on the floor.\"\n\n\"Please, Mister, don't talk dat a-way,\" pleaded Drusilla, \"kase I'll\nbe constant a-projeckin' wid dat tappin', an' de fus' time you come\nI'll holler fire.\"\n\n\"Don't notice her,\" said Buster John, \"she talks to hear herself\ntalk.\"\n\n\"I see,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger, tapping his forehead significantly\nand nodding his head.\n\n\"You kin nod,\" said Drusilla defiantly, \"but my head got mo' in it dan\nyou kin comb out.\"\n\n\"I believe you!\" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger, \"I believe you!\" He\nspoke so earnestly that Sweetest Susan and Buster John laughed, and\nDrusilla laughed with them.\n\n\"You dropped your knife,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger. \"I'm sorry of it. I\ncan't bring it up to you, but I'll see if I can't crawl under and get\nit out.\"\n\nWith that he leaped nimbly from log to log and disappeared under the\nwood-pile. The children went down to see what he would do. They were\nso astonished at his droll appearance that they forgot their\ncuriosity.\n\n\"Is that a fairy, brother?\" asked Sweetest Susan in a low voice.\n\n\"No!\" exclaimed Buster John with a lofty air, but not loudly. \"Don't\nyou see he's not a bit like the fairies we read about in books? Why,\nhe was afraid of a wood-sawyer.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" Sweetest Susan rejoined.\n\n\"He's a witch, dat what he is,\" said Drusilla.\n\n\"Shucks!\" whispered Buster John. He heard the voice of Mr.\nThimblefinger under the wood-pile.\n\n\"I've found it, I've found it!\" he cried. And presently he made his\nappearance, dragging the knife after him. He tugged at it until he got\nit out, and then he sat down on a chip, wiped the perspiration from\nhis eyes, and fanned himself with a thin flake of pine bark no bigger\nthan a bee's wing.\n\n\"Pick me up and let's go on top of the wood-pile,\" said Mr.\nThimblefinger after a while. \"It's suffocating down here. Ouch! don't\ntickle me, if you do I shall have a fit.\" Buster John had lifted him\nby placing a thumb and forefinger under his arms. \"And don't squeeze\nme, neither,\" the little man went on. \"I was cramped under that bark\nuntil I'm as sore as a boil all over. Goodness! I wish I was at home!\"\n\n\"Where do you live?\" asked Sweetest Susan when they were once more\nseated on the wood-pile.\n\n\"Not far from here, not very far,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger, shaking\nhis head sagely, \"but it is a different country--oh, entirely\ndifferent.\"\n\nSweetest Susan edged away from the little man at this, and Drusilla\nstretched her eyes.\n\n\"What is it like?\" asked Buster John boldly.\n\nMr. Thimblefinger reflected a while, and then shook his head. \"I can\nshow it to you,\" he said, \"but I can't describe it.\"\n\n\"Pick 'im up an' show 'im to your ma!\" exclaimed Drusilla suddenly.\n\n\"No, no, no!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger, leaping to his feet. \"That\nwould spoil everything. No grown person living in this country has\never seen me. No, no! don't try that. It would spoil your luck. I\nwouldn't be here now if the Dolls' Grandmother hadn't begged me to\ncome with her last night. But I'll come to see you,\"--he pointed at\nDrusilla. \"I'll come often.\"\n\n\"I des said dat fer ter see what you'd say,\" protested Drusilla. \"You\nwan' gwine ter take 'im, wuz you, honey?\" This question was addressed\nto Buster John, who scorned to answer it.\n\n\"Grown people wouldn't understand me,\" Mr. Thimblefinger explained.\n\"They know a great deal too much to suit me.\"\n\n\"How do you get to your country?\" inquired Buster John, who was keen\nfor an adventure.\n\n\"The nearest way is by the spring,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger. \"That\nis the only way you could go.\"\n\n\"Can I go too?\" asked Sweetest Susan. \"And Drusilla?\"\n\n\"Oh, of course,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, shrugging his shoulders. \"One\ncan go or all can go.\"\n\n\"Do you go down the spring branch?\" asked Buster John.\n\n[Illustration: FOLLOWING LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER]\n\n\"No, no,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger. \"Below the spring and below the\nbranch.\"\n\n\"Do you mean under the spring?\" Sweetest Susan inquired, with some\nhesitation.\n\n\"That's it,\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. \"Right down through the spring\nand under it.\"\n\n\"Why, we'd drown,\" said Sweetest Susan. \"The spring is deep.\"\n\n\"Well, you'll ha' ter 'skuze me,\" exclaimed Drusilla. \"Dat water's too\nwet fer me.\"\n\nBuster John waited for an explanation, but none was forthcoming.\n\n\"We couldn't go through the spring, you know,\" he said presently.\n\n\"How do you know?\" asked Mr. Thimblefinger slyly. \"Did you ever try\nit?\"\n\nHe asked each of the children this, and the reply was that none of\nthem had ever tried it.\n\n\"I put my foot in it once,\" said Buster John, \"and the water was just\nlike other spring water. I know we can't go through it.\"\n\n\"Come now!\" Mr. Thimblefinger suggested, \"don't say you know.\nSometimes people live to be very old and don't know the very things\nthey ought to know.\"\n\n\"But I know that,\" replied Buster John confidently.\n\n\"Very well, then,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, pulling out a tiny watch,\n\"did you ever feel of the water in the spring at precisely nine\nminutes and nine seconds after twelve o'clock?\"\n\n\"N-o-o-o,\" replied Buster John, taken by surprise, \"I don't think I\never did.\"\n\n\"Of course not!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger gayly. \"You had no reason.\nWell, at nine minutes and nine seconds after twelve o'clock the water\nin the spring is not wet. It is as dry as the air we breathe. It is\nnow two minutes after twelve o'clock. We'll go to the spring, wait\nuntil the time comes, and then you will see for yourselves.\"\n\nAs they went toward the spring--Mr. Thimblefinger running on before\nwith wonderful agility--Drusilla touched Sweetest Susan on the arm.\n\"Honey,\" said she, \"don't let dat creetur pull you in de spring.\nGoodness knows, ef he puts his han' on me I'm gwine ter squall.\"\n\n\"Will you hush?\" exclaimed Buster John impatiently.\n\n\"Watch out, now,\" said Drusilla defiantly. \"Ef you gits drownded in\ndar I'll sho' tell yo' ma.\"\n\nFortunately, there was no one near the spring, so Mr. Thimblefinger\nadvanced boldly, followed closely by the children, though Drusilla\nseemed to hang back somewhat doubtfully. When they arrived there Mr.\nThimblefinger took out his tiny timepiece and held it in his hand. The\nchildren watched him with breathless interest, especially Buster John,\nwho was thrilled with the idea of having an adventure entirely\ndifferent from any that he had read of in the story-books.\n\nAs the little man stood there holding his watch and looking at it\nintently, the dinner-bell rang, first in the hallway and then in the\nback porch. The children remembered it afterward.\n\n\"You all better go git yo' dinner 'fo' it git col', stidder projeckin'\n'roun' here wid you dunner what,\" remarked Drusilla.\n\n\"Now!\" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger, \"put your hand in the spring.\"\n\nBuster John did as he was bid, and, to his amazement, he could feel no\nwater. He could see it, but he couldn't feel it. He turned pale with\nexcitement and withdrew his hand. Then he put his other hand in, but\nthe result was the same. He plunged his arm in up to the elbow, but\nhis sleeve remained perfectly dry.\n\n\"Try it, sis,\" he cried.\n\nSweetest Susan did so, and boldly declared there was no water in the\nspring. She wanted Drusilla to try to wet her hand, but Drusilla\nsullenly declined.\n\nMr. Thimblefinger settled the matter by walking into the spring.\n\n\"Now, then, if you are going, come along,\" he cried. \"You have just\nseventeen and a half seconds.\" He waved his hand from the bottom of\nthe spring and stood waiting. A spring lizard ran near him, and he\ndrew his sword and chased it into a hole. A crawfish showed its head,\nand he drove it away. Then he waved his hand again. \"Come on, the\ncoast is clear.\"\n\nBuster John put his hand in the water again, and this seemed to\nsatisfy him. He stepped boldly into the spring, and in a moment he\nstood by Mr. Thimblefinger, laughing, but still excited by the novelty\nof his experience. He called to his sister:--\n\n\"Come on, sis. It's splendid down here.\"\n\n\"Is it wet?\" she asked plaintively. \"Is it cold?\"\n\n\"No!\" replied Buster John impatiently. \"Don't be a baby.\"\n\n\"Come on, Drusilla! You've got to come. Mamma said you must go\nwherever we went,\" cried Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"No, ma'am!\" exclaimed Drusilla, with emphasis. \"She ain't tol' me ter\nfoller you in de fier an' needer in de water!\"\n\nBut Sweetest Susan didn't wait to hear. She jumped into the spring\nwith a splash and then stood by her brother very red in the face.\n\n\"Five more seconds!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger in a businesslike way.\n\nDrusilla looked in the spring and hesitated. She could see the water\nplain enough, but then she could also see Sweetest Susan and Buster\nJohn, and they seemed to be very comfortable.\n\n\"I'm comin',\" she yelled, \"but ef you all make me git drownded in dry\nwater I'll ha'nt you ef it's de las' thing I do!\"\n\nThen she shut her eyes tight, put her fingers in her ears, and leaped\ninto the spring. She floundered around with her eyes still shut, and\ngasped and caught her breath just like a drowning person, until she\nheard the others laughing at her, and then she opened her eyes with\nastonishment.\n\nSuddenly there was a loud, splashing sound heard above and around them\nand under their feet.\n\n\"Watch out!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. \"Run this way! The water is\ngetting wet again!\"\n\nThe way seemed to widen before them as they ran, and in a moment they\nfound themselves below the \"gum,\" or \"curb,\" of the spring and beyond\nit. But as they went forward the bottom of the spring seemed to grow\nand expand, and the sun shining through gave a soft light that was\nvery pleasant to the eye. The grass was green and the leaves of the\ntrees and the flowers were pale pink and yellow.\n\nMr. Thimblefinger seemed to be very happy. He ran along before the\nchildren as nimbly as a killdee, talking and laughing all the time.\nPresently Drusilla, who brought up the rear, suddenly stopped in her\ntracks and looked around. Then she uttered an exclamation of fright.\nSweetest Susan and Buster John paused to see what was the matter.\n\n\"Wharbouts did we come in at?\" she asked.\n\nThen, for the first time, the children saw that the bottom of the\nspring had seemed to expand, until it spread over their heads and\naround on all sides as the sky does in our country.\n\n\"Don't bother about that,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger. \"No matter how big\nit looks, it's nothing but the bottom of the spring after all.\"\n\n\"But how are we to get out, please?\" asked Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"The same way you came in,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger.\n\n\"I tol' you! I tol' you!\" exclaimed Drusilla, swinging her right arm\nup and down vigorously. \"Ef you kin fly you kin git out, an' you look\nmuch like flyin'. Dat what you git by not mindin' me an' yo' ma!\"\n\n\"Tut! tut!\" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger. \"I'll 'sicc' the Katydids on\nyou if you don't stop scaring the little girl. Come! we are not far\nfrom my house. We'll go there and see what the neighbors have sent in\nfor dinner.\"\n\nBuster John followed him as readily as before, but Sweetest Susan and\nDrusilla were not so eager. They had no device, however, and Drusilla\nmade the best of it.\n\n\"I ain't skeered ez I wuz. He talk mo' and mo' like folks.\"\n\nSo they went on toward Mr. Thimblefinger's house.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nMR. THIMBLEFINGER'S FRIENDS.\n\n\n\"I hope you are not tired,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger to Sweetest Susan\nwhen they had been on their way for some little time. \"Because if you\nare you can rest yourself by taking longer steps.\"\n\nBuster John was ready to laugh at this, but he soon discovered that\nMr. Thimblefinger was right. He found that he could hop and jump ever\nso far in this queer country, and the first use he made of the\ndiscovery was to jump over Drusilla's head. This he did with hardly\nany effort. After that the journey of the children, which had grown\nsomewhat tiresome (though they wouldn't say so), became a frolic. They\nskimmed along over the gray fields with no trouble at all, but\nDrusilla found it hard to retain her balance when she jumped high. Mr.\nThimblefinger, who had a reason for everything, was puzzled at this.\nHe paused a while and stood thinking and rubbing his chin. Then he\nsaid that either Drusilla's head was too light or her heels too\nheavy--he couldn't for the life of him tell which.\n\nThere was one thing that bothered the children. If Mr. Thimblefinger's\nhouse was just big enough to fit him (as Buster John expressed it),\nhow could they go inside? Sweetest Susan was so troubled that she\nasked Drusilla about it. But Drusilla shook her head vigorously.\n\n\"Don't come axin' me,\" she cried. \"I done tol' you all right\npine-blank not ter come. Ef de house lil' like dat creetur is, what\nyou gwine do when night come? En den spozen 'pon top er dat dat a big\nrain come up? Oh, I tol' you 'fo' you started! Who in de name er sense\never heah talk er folks gwine down in a spring? You mought er know'd\nsump'in gwine ter happen. Oh, I tol' you!\"\n\nThere was no denying this, and Sweetest Susan and her brother were\nbeginning to feel anxious, when an exclamation from Mr. Thimblefinger\nattracted their attention.\n\n\"We are nearly there,\" he shouted. \"Yonder is the house. My! won't the\nfamily be surprised when they see you!\"\n\nSure enough there was the house, and it was not a small one, either.\nDrusilla said it looked more like a barn than a house, but Buster John\nsaid it didn't make any difference what it looked like so long as they\ncould rest there and get something to eat, for they had had no dinner.\n\n\"I hope dey got sho' 'nuff vittles--pot-licker an' dumplin's, an'\nsump'in you kin fill up wid,\" said Drusilla heartily.\n\nMr. Thimblefinger, who had been running a little way ahead, suddenly\npaused and waited for the children to come up.\n\n\"Come to think of it,\" he remarked, \"you may have heard of some of my\nfamily. I call them my family, but they are no kin to me. We just live\ntogether in the same house for company's sake.\"\n\n\"They are not fairies?\" suggested Sweetest Susan.\n\nMr. Thimblefinger shook his head. \"Oh, no! Just common every-day\npeople like myself. We put on no airs. Did you ever hear of Mrs.\nMeadows? And Mr. Rabbit? And Mrs. Rabbit?\"\n\n\"Dem what wuz in de tale?\" asked Drusilla.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, \"the very same persons.\"\n\n\"Sho' 'nuff!\" exclaimed Drusilla. \"Why, we been hear talk er dem sence\n'fo' we wuz knee-high.\"\n\nSweetest Susan and Buster John said they had often heard of Mr. Rabbit\nand Mrs. Meadows. This seemed to please Mr. Thimblefinger very much.\nHe smiled and nodded approval.\n\n\"Did they ever have you in a story?\" asked Buster John.\n\n\"No, no!\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger. \"I was so little they forgot me.\"\nHe laughed at his own joke, but it was very plain that he didn't\nrelish the idea of not having his name in a book.\n\nPresently the children came to the house, but they hesitated at the\ngate and stood there in fear and trembling. What they saw was enough\nto frighten them. An old woman was sitting in a chair knitting. She\nwas not different from many old women the children had seen, but near\nher sat a Rabbit as big as a man. He was a tremendous creature,\ngrizzly and gray, and watery-eyed from age. He sat in a rocking-chair\nsmoking a pipe.\n\n[Illustration: MR. RABBIT AND MRS. MEADOWS]\n\n\"Le' 's go back,\" whispered Drusilla. \"Dat ar creetur bigger dan a\nhoss. Ef he git a glimp' us we er gone--gone!\"\n\nSweetest Susan shivered and looked at Buster John, and Buster John\nlooked at Mr. Thimblefinger. But Mr. Thimblefinger ran forward, crying\nout:--\n\n\"Howdy, folks, howdy! I've brought some friends home to dinner.\" He\nbeckoned to the children. \"Come on and see Mrs. Meadows and Mr.\nRabbit.\"\n\nMrs. Meadows immediately dropped her knitting in her lap, and threw\nher hands up to her head, as if to arrange her hair.\n\n\"Come in,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger to the children.\n\n\"Yes, come on,\" exclaimed Mr. Rabbit in a voice that sounded as if he\nhad a bad cold.\n\n\"I'm in no fix to be seen,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"but I'm glad to see\nyou, anyhow. Come right in. Take off your things and make yourself at\nhome. How did you get here? I reckon that little trick there has been\ntelling tales out of school.\" She pointed at Mr. Thimblefinger and\nlaughed.\n\n\"He brought us,\" said Sweetest Susan. \"I'm sorry we came.\"\n\n\"Now, don't say that,\" remarked Mrs. Meadows kindly. \"What are you\nafraid of?\"\n\n\"Of him,\" replied Sweetest Susan, nodding her head toward Mr. Rabbit.\n\n\"Is that all?\" exclaimed Mrs. Meadows. \"Why, he's as harmless as a\nkitten.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" said Mr. Rabbit complacently. \"No harm in me--no harm in\nold people. Just give us a little room in the corner--a little place\nwhere we can sit and nod--and there's no harm in us. I'm just as glad\nyou've come as I can be. I see you've brought the Tar Baby. She's\ngrown some since I saw her last.\" Mr. Rabbit looked at Drusilla with\nconsiderable curiosity. \"I hope she's not as sticky as she used to\nbe.\"\n\n\"Hey!\" cried Buster John, laughing. \"Mr. Rabbit thinks Drusilla is the\nTar Baby!\"\n\nDrusilla tossed her head scornfully. \"Huh! I ain't no Tar Baby. I may\nbe a nigger, an' I speck I is, but I ain't no Tar Baby. My mammy done\ntol' me 'bout de Tar Baby in de tale, an' she got it fum her\ngran'daddy. Ef I'm de Tar Baby, I'm older dan my mammy's gran'daddy.\"\n\nMr. Rabbit took off his spectacles and wiped them on his coat-tail.\n\"My eyes are getting very bad,\" he said, by way of apology. \"But you\ncertainly look very much like the Tar Baby. If you were both together\nin the dark, nobody could tell you apart. Well, well! I'm getting\nold.\"\n\n\"You ain't no older dan you look,\" said Drusilla spitefully under her\nbreath.\n\n\"Hush!\" whispered Sweetest Susan. \"He'll eat us up.\"\n\nMrs. Meadows laughed. \"Don't worry, child. Mr. Rabbit loves his pipe\nand a joke, but he'll never hurt you. Never in the world.\"\n\n\"But this isn't in the world,\" suggested Buster John.\n\n\"Well, it's next door, as you may say,\" Mrs. Meadows replied.\n\nJust then Mr. Rabbit slowly raised himself from his chair and examined\nthe seat closely. \"I missed Mr. Thimblefinger,\" he said, \"and I was\nafraid I had sat on him.\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger, coming out from under the steps;\n\"I was just resting myself.\"\n\n\"Mr. Thimblefinger will take care of himself, I'll be bound,\"\nexclaimed Mrs. Meadows. \"He's little; but is a mountain strong because\nit is big?\"\n\n\"Why, that puts me in mind of the story--But never mind! I'm always\nthinking about old times.\" Mr. Rabbit sighed as he said this.\n\n\"Oh, please tell us the story,\" pleaded Sweetest Susan, anxious to\nmake friends with Mr. Rabbit.\n\nHe shook his head. \"Mrs. Meadows can tell it better than I can.\"\n\n\"Dinner!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. \"What about dinner?\"\n\n\"Dinner'll be ready directly,\" replied Mrs. Meadows.\n\n\"But the story?\" Sweetest Susan said.\n\n\nTHE STRONGEST--WHO? OR WHICH?\n\n\"Well,\" replied Mrs. Meadows, \"it was like this: One time in the\ncountry where we came from--the country where you live now--there\nchanced to be a big frost, and the mill-pond froze over. Mr. Rabbit\nran along that way and found that the pond had this bridge across it.\"\n\n\"Was it this Mr. Rabbit here?\" asked Buster John.\n\nMrs. Meadows folded her hands in her lap and looked at them. \"Well,\"\nshe said, \"I never talk about folks behind their backs. You must do\nyour own guessing. Anyway, Mr. Rabbit found the ice bridge over the\npond, and as he was in something of a hurry he skipped across it. I\nmean he skipped a part of the way. The Ice was so slippery that when\nhe got about halfway, his feet slipped from under him and he fell\nkerthump! He got up and rubbed himself as well as he could, and then\nhe thought that the Ice must be very strong to hit him so hard a lick.\nHe said to the Ice, 'You are very strong.'\n\n\"'I am so,' replied the Ice.\n\n\"'Well, if you are so strong, how can the Sun melt you?'\n\n\"The Ice said nothing, and so Mr. Rabbit asked the Sun, 'Are you very\nstrong?'\n\n\"'So they tell me,' replied the Sun.\n\n\"'Then how can the Clouds hide you?'\n\n\"The Sun was somewhat ashamed and had nothing to say. So Mr. Rabbit\nlooked at the Clouds.\n\n\"'Are you very strong?'\n\n\"'We have heard so,' replied the Clouds.\n\n\"'How can the Wind blow you?'\n\n\"The Clouds sailed away, and Mr. Rabbit asked the Wind, 'Are you very\nstrong?'\n\n\"'I believe you,' said the Wind.\n\n\"'Then how can the Mountain stand against you?'\n\n\"The Wind blew itself away, and then Mr. Rabbit asked the Mountain,\n'Are you very strong?'\n\n\"'So it seems,' replied the Mountain.\n\n\"'How can the Mouse make a nest in you?'\n\n\"The Mountain was mum. So Mr. Rabbit asked the Mouse, 'Are you very\nstrong?'\n\n\"'I believe so,' replied the Mouse.\n\n\"'How can the Cat catch you?'\n\n\"The Mouse hid in the grass. Mr. Rabbit asked the Cat, 'Are you very\nstrong?'\n\n\"'Yes, indeed,' replied the Cat.\n\n\"'How can the Dog chase you?'\n\n\"The Cat began to wash her face. Then Mr. Rabbit said to the Dog, 'Are\nyou very strong?'\n\n\"'I certainly am,' replied the Dog.\n\n\"'Then why does the Stick scare you?'\n\n\"The Dog began to scratch the fleas off his neck, and Mr. Rabbit said\nto the Stick, 'Are you very strong?'\n\n\"'Everybody says so.'\n\n\"'Then how can the Fire burn you?'\n\n\"The Stick was dumb, and Mr. Rabbit asked the Fire, 'Are you very\nstrong?'\n\n\"'Anybody will tell you so,' the Fire answered.\n\n\"'How can the Water quench you?'\n\n\"The Fire hid behind the smoke. Then Mr. Rabbit asked the Water, 'Are\nyou very strong?'\n\n\"'Strong is no name for it,' said the Water.\n\n\"'How can the Ice cover you?'\n\n\"The Water went running down the river, and after it had gone the Ice\nsaid to Mr. Rabbit, 'You see you had to come back to me at last.'\n\n\"'Yes,' replied Mr. Rabbit, 'and now I am going away. You are too much\nfor me.' Then Mr. Rabbit loped off, rubbing his bruises.\"\n\n\"Was it really you, Mr. Rabbit?\" asked Sweetest Susan.\n\nMr. Rabbit rubbed his mustache with the end of his pipe-stem. \"Well,\nI'll tell you the truth. I was mighty foolish in my young days. But\nnow all I want to do is to eat breakfast, and then wait until dinner\nis ready, and then sit and wait until supper is put on the table.\"\n\nMrs. Meadows winked at the children and then turned to Mr. Rabbit.\n\n\"Now,\" said she, \"I've told the story you ought to have told, for you\nknow more about it than anybody else. It's as little as you can do to\nsing the old song that you sung when you used to go frolicking.\"\n\n\"Why, it's about myself!\" exclaimed Mr. Rabbit. \"At my time of life it\nwould never do.\"\n\n\"Please make him sing it,\" said Sweetest Susan, who was much given to\ngetting her own way by the pretty little art of coaxing.\n\n\"Oh, he'll sing it,\" replied Mrs. Meadows confidently. \"He can't\nrefuse.\"\n\nMr. Rabbit shook his head, and then seemed to fall into a brown study,\nbut suddenly, seeing that they were all waiting for the song, he\ncleared up his throat, and after several false starts sang this\nsong:--\n\n\nOH, THIS IS MR. RABBIT!\n\n    Oh, this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass,\n    So rise up, ladies, and let him pass;\n    He courted Miss Meadows, when her ma was away,\n    He crossed his legs, and said his say.\n    He crossed his legs, and he winked his eye,\n    And then he told Miss Meadows good-by.\n            So it's good-by, ducky,\n              And it's good-by, dear!\n            I'll never come to see you\n              Until next year!\n    For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass,\n    So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.\n\n    And he cried from the gate, so bold and free:\n    \"I know you are glad to get rid of me.\"\n    And then Miss Meadows shook her head--\n    \"If you stay too long you'll find me dead.\n            And it's good-by, ducky,\n              And it's good-by, dear!\n            You'll find me dead\n              When you come next year!\"\n    For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass,\n    So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.\n\n    Mr. Owl called out from the top of the tree,\n    \"Oh, who? Oh, who?\" and \"He-he-he!\"\n    Mr. Fox slipped off in the woods and cried;\n    Mr. Coon's broken heart caused a pain in his side.\n            For it's good-by, ducky,\n              And it's good-by, dear!\n            If you ever come to see me,\n              Come before next year!\n    For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass,\n    So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.\n\n    Mr. Rabbit looked around, and saw all the trouble,\n    And he laughed and he laughed till he bent over double.\n    He shook his head, and said his say--\n    \"I'll come a-calling when to-morrow is to-day.\n            For when you have a ducky,\n              Don't stay--don't stay--\n            Go off and come again\n              When to-morrow is to-day.\"\n    For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass,\n    So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nTWO QUEER STORIES.\n\n\nThere is no doubt the children were very much surprised to see Mr.\nRabbit. They were astonished to find that he was so large and\nsolemn-looking. When the negroes on the plantation told them about Mr.\nRabbit--or Brother Rabbit, as he was sometimes called--they had\nimagined that he was no larger than the rabbits they saw in the\nsedge-field or in the barley-patch, but this Mr. Rabbit was larger\nthan a dozen of them put together.\n\nIn one way or another Sweetest Susan and Buster John and Drusilla\nshowed their amazement very plainly--especially Drusilla, who took no\npains to conceal hers. Every time Mr. Rabbit moved she would nudge\nSweetest Susan or Buster John and exclaim: \"Look at dat!\" or, \"We\nbetter be gwine!\" or, \"Spozen Brer Fox er Brer Wolf come up an' dey er\ndat big!\"\n\nMrs. Meadows noticed this; indeed, she could not help noticing it. And\nso she said:--\n\n\"I reckon maybe you expected to find Mr. Rabbit no bigger than the\nrest of his family that live in your country.\"\n\nBefore the children could make any answer, Mr. Rabbit began to\nchuckle, and he chuckled so heartily that Sweetest Susan was afraid he\nwould choke.\n\n\"I don't wonder you laugh,\" said Mrs. Meadows, elevating her voice a\nlittle, as if Mr. Rabbit were a little deaf.\n\n\"It may not be polite to laugh in company,\" replied Mr. Rabbit, \"but I\nam obliged to do it.\" His voice was wheezy, and he nodded his head\nvigorously. \"Yes, I am obliged to do it. Why, I could put one of those\npoor creatures in my coat-pocket. They are not Rabbits. They are\nRunts. Yes, Runts. That's what they are. And to think, too, that their\ngreat-grandparents might have come here when I did. But, no! They\nwouldn't hear to it. No new country for them, they said. And so they\nstayed where they were, and the breed has dwindled down to--to\nnothing. I'll be bound they have forgotten how to talk.\" He turned to\nthe children with a look of inquiry.\n\n\"Why, of course, rabbits can't talk,\" said Buster John.\n\nMr. Rabbit shook his head sadly and put his hand to his eyes. \"Well,\nwell, well!\" he exclaimed after a while. \"Can't talk! But I might have\nknown it. The family's gone to seed. I'm glad I'm not there to see it\nall. A neighbor here and there does no harm, but when people began to\ncrowd in I concluded to move, and I'm glad I did. I'm old and getting\nfeeble, but, thank gracious, I'm not a Runt.\"\n\n\"I don't see but you're as nimble as ever you were,\" remarked Mrs.\nMeadows soothingly.\n\n\"I know--I know!\" Mr. Rabbit insisted; \"I may be as nimble, but I'm\nnot as keen for a frolic as I used to be. The chimney-corner suits me\nbetter than a barbecue.\" Mr. Rabbit closed his big eyes and sighed.\n\"Well, well--everybody to his time, everybody to his taste!\"\n\nMrs. Meadows nodded her head approvingly. \"Yes; between first one\nthing and then another, there's lots of time and a heap of tastes.\"\n\n\"They tell me,\" remarked Mr. Rabbit suddenly, \"that things have got to\nthat pass in the country we came from that even Mr. Billy-Goat, who\nused to eat meat, has dwindled away in mind and body till he hangs\naround the stable doors and eats straw for a living. That's what Mr.\nThimblefinger says, and he ought to know. I suppose Billy is still\nbob-tailed? I remember the very day he had his tail broken off.\"\n\n\"Tell us about it,\" remarked Buster John.\n\n\nWHY MR. BILLY-GOAT'S TAIL IS SHORT.\n\n\"Oh, it doesn't amount to much,\" said he. \"It's hardly worth talking\nabout. I think it was one Saturday. In those days, you know, we used\nto have a half-holiday every Saturday. We worked hard all the week,\nand we tried to crowd as much fun into a half-holiday as possible.\nWell, one Saturday afternoon Mr. Billy-Goat and Mr. Dog were walking\narm in arm along the road, talking and laughing in a sociable way,\nwhen all of a sudden a big rain came up. Mr. Billy-Goat said he was\nmighty sorry he left his parasol at home, because the rain was apt to\nmake his horns rust. Mr. Dog shook himself and said he didn't mind\nwater, because when he got wet the fleas quit biting.\n\n\"But Mr. Billy-Goat hurried on and Mr. Dog kept up with him until\nthey came to Mr. Wolf's house, and they ran into the front porch for\nshelter. The door was shut tight, but Mr. Billy-Goat had on his\nhigh-heel shoes that day, and he made so much noise as he tramped\nabout that Mr. Wolf opened his window and looked out. When he saw who\nit was, he cried out:--\n\n\"'Hallo! this is not a nice day to pay visits, but since you are here,\nyou may as well come in out of the wet.'\n\n\"But Mr. Dog shook his head and flirted up dirt by scratching on the\nground with his feet. He had smelled blood. Mr. Billy-Goat saw how Mr.\nDog acted, and he was afraid to go in. So he shook his horns.\n\n\"'You'd just as well come in and sit by the fire,' said Mr. Wolf,\nunlatching the door.\n\n\"But Mr. Dog and Mr. Billy-Goat thanked him kindly, and said they\ndidn't want to carry mud into the house. They said they would just\nstand in the porch till the shower passed over. Then Mr. Wolf took\ndown his fiddle, tuned it up, and began to play. In his day and time\nfew could beat him playing the fiddle. And this time he played his\nlevel best, for he knew that if he could start Mr. Billy-Goat to\ndancing he'd have him for dinner.\"\n\n\"I don't see how,\" said Buster John.\n\n\"Well,\" exclaimed Mr. Rabbit, \"if Mr. Billy-Goat began to dance he\nwould be likely to dance until he got tired, and then it would be an\neasy matter for Mr. Wolf to outrun him.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"Well,\" Mr. Rabbit continued, \"Mr. Wolf kept on playing the fiddle,\nbut Mr. Billy-Goat didn't dance. Not only that, he kept so near the\nedge of the porch that the rain drifted in on his horns and ran down\nhis long beard. But he kept his eye on Mr. Wolf. After playing the\nfiddle till he was tired, Mr. Wolf asked:--\n\n\"'How do you get your meat, my young friends?'\n\n\"Mr. Dog said he depended on his teeth, and Mr. Billy-Goat, thinking\nto be on the safe side, said he also depended upon his teeth.\n\n\"'As for me,' cried Mr. Wolf, 'I depend on my feet!' and with that he\ndropped his fiddle and jumped at Mr. Billy-Goat. But he knocked the\nbroom down and the handle tripped him. It was all very sudden, but\nby the time Mr. Wolf had recovered himself Mr. Billy-Goat and Mr. Dog\nhad gone a considerable distance.\n\n[Illustration: MR. BILLY-GOAT AND MR. WOLF]\n\n\"They ran and ran until they came to a big creek. Mr. Billy-Goat asked\nMr. Dog how he was going to get across.\n\n\"'Swim,' said Mr. Dog.\n\n\"'Then I'll have to bid you good-by,' replied Mr. Billy-Goat, 'for I\ncan't swim a stroke.'\n\n\"By this time they had arrived at the bank of the creek, and they\ncould hear Mr. Wolf coming through the woods. They had no time to\nlose. Mr. Dog looked around on the ground, gathered some jan-weed,\nyan-weed, and tan-weed, rubbed them together, and squeezed a drop of\nthe juice on Mr. Billy-Goat's horns. He had no sooner done this than\nMr. Billy-Goat was changed into a white rock.\n\n\"Then Mr. Dog leaped into the creek and swam across. Mr. Wolf ran to\nthe bank, but there he stopped. The water was so wide it made tears\ncome in his eyes; so deep that it made his legs ache; and so cold that\nit made his body shiver.\n\n\"When Mr. Dog arrived safely on the other side he cried out, 'Aha!\nyou are afraid! You've drowned poor Mr. Billy-Goat, but you are afraid\nof me. I dare you to fling a rock at me!'\n\n\"This made Mr. Wolf so mad that he seized the white rock and threw it\nat Mr. Dog with all his might. It fell near Mr. Dog, and instantly\nbecame Mr. Billy-Goat again. But in falling a piece was broken off,\nand it happened to be Mr. Billy-Goat's tail. Ever since then he has\nhad a very short tail.\"\n\n\"Were you there, Mr. Rabbit?\" asked Sweetest Susan bluntly.\n\n\"I was fishing at the time,\" replied Mr. Rabbit. \"I heard the noise\nthey made, and I turned around and saw it just as I've told you.\"\n\nDrusilla touched Buster John on the arm. \"We ain't dreamin', is we,\nhoney?\"\n\nBuster John looked at her scornfully. \"What put that in your head?\" he\nasked.\n\n\"Suppose the rock had hit Mr. Dog?\" suggested Sweetest Susan.\n\n\nTHE PUMPKIN-EATER.\n\n\"Now, that's so!\" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger. \"And it reminds me of a\nlittle accident that happened in my mother's family. But it's hardly\nworth telling.\"\n\n\"Well, tell it, anyhow,\" said Mrs. Meadows.\n\n\"Yes,\" remarked Mr. Rabbit, \"the proof of the pudding is in chewing\nthe bag.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, \"as far back as I can remember, and\nbefore that, too, my mother was a widow, and she had a great many\nchildren to take care of. The reason she had so many children was\nbecause she was poor. I have noticed all my life that when people are\nvery poor they happen to have more children than they know what to do\nwith. This was the way with my mother. She had a houseful of children,\nand she found it a hard matter to get along.\n\n\"One day she went down to the creek to wash the clothes, such as she\nand the children had, and when she got there she found an old man\nsitting on the bank. He said, 'Howdy,' and she said, 'Good-morning,'\nand then he asked her if she would be so good as to wash his coat and\nhis waistcoat. She said she would be glad to do so, and the old man\nsaid he would be very much obliged. So my mother washed the coat and\nwaistcoat. Then he asked her if she would comb his hair for him, and\nshe did so.\n\n\"The old man thanked her kindly, and took from his pocket a string of\nred beads and made her a present of them. Then he told her to go out\nbehind the house when she got home, and there she'd find a\npumpkin-tree growing. He said that she must bury the string of beads\nat the foot of the tree.\n\n\"'That's a pity,' exclaimed my mother; 'they are so beautiful.'\n\n\"But the old man declared that she must do as he said, and after that\nshe was to go to the pumpkin-tree every day and ask for as many\npumpkins as she wanted.\n\n\"My mother went home and found the pumpkin-tree where never a tree had\nbeen growing before, and at its roots she buried the string of beads.\nNext morning, bright and early, she went to the pumpkin-tree and\ncalled for one pumpkin. Down it dropped from the tree. For a long time\nmy mother and her children were happy and growing fat. Every day a big\npumpkin would be cooked, and as my mother had to leave us so as to\nattend to her work, enough pumpkin would be left in the pot to last\nus all day.\n\n[Illustration: MY MOTHER WASHING THE OLD MAN'S COAT AND WAISTCOAT]\n\n\"I remember that time very well,\" Mr. Thimblefinger continued, with a\nsigh, \"for I was getting fat and growing to be almost as large as the\nrest of the children. But one day, as my mother was going out to work\nshe found a hamper basket on the gate-post, and in that basket was a\nbaby. So she carried the baby in the house, gave it something to eat,\nand then put it on the floor to play with the rest. But as soon as she\ngot out of the yard the baby crawled to the pot where the cooked\npumpkin was, and ate and ate until there was no pumpkin left. Of\ncourse, the rest of the children had to go hungry. And when my mother\ncame home she had to go hungry, too.\n\n\"She was very much surprised. She found all the pumpkin gone and the\nchildren crying for something to eat, and the stray baby was crying\nlouder than any. She said we were the greediest children she had ever\nseen.\n\n\"The next day she cooked two pumpkins, but the same thing happened.\nThe baby went to the pot and ate both. The children told her how it\nhappened, but she wouldn't believe them. She said she couldn't be made\nto believe that one puny little baby could eat two whole pumpkins--and\nit _is_ very queer, when you come to think about it.\n\n\"The next day she cooked three pumpkins, but the same thing happened.\nThen four, then five, then six. But it was always the same. No matter\nhow many pumpkins were cooked, the stray baby would eat them all, and\nthe rest of the children would have to go hungry. You see how small I\nam,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, suddenly pausing in the thread of his\nstory. \"Well, the reason of it is that I was starved out by that\npumpkin-eating baby. My brothers and sisters and myself were just as\nlarge and as healthy as any other children until that baby was found\non the gate-post, and from that day we began to dwindle and shrink\naway.\n\n\"Well, we starved and starved until at last my mother could very\nplainly see that something was the matter. So she set a trap for the\nbaby and baited it with pumpkins. She hadn't got out of hearing before\nthe baby put his head in the pot and got caught in the trap. It stayed\nthere all day, and when mother came home at night she found it there.\nShe was very much surprised, but she saw she must get rid of the baby.\nShe said that any creature that could manage to eat like that was able\nto take care of itself, and so she carried it off down the road and\nleft it there.\n\n\"Now this Pumpkin-Eater was a witch baby, and as soon as it thought my\nmother was out of sight and hearing it changed itself into a tall,\nheavy man.\"\n\n\"'T wuz feedin' de big man all de time,\" exclaimed Drusilla.\n\n\"Certainly,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger. \"My mother was watching it,\nand she followed to see where it would go. It went down to the bank of\nthe river. There it found the old man who had given my mother the\nstring of beads, and asked him for something to eat.\n\n\"'Comb my hair for me,' said the old man.\n\n\"But it refused, and then the old man told it to go to the\npumpkin-tree and ask for twenty pumpkins. The greedy thing was glad to\ndo this. It went to the tree and called for twenty pumpkins, and down\nthey fell on its head.\"\n\n\"What then?\" asked Buster John, as Mr. Thimblefinger paused. \"Was it\nhurt?\"\n\n\"Smashed!\" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger. \"Knocked flatter than a\npancake! Broke into jiblets!\"\n\n\"It was a great waste of pumpkins,\" remarked Mrs. Meadows.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nTHE TALKING-SADDLE.\n\n\nJust then Mrs. Meadows smoothed out her apron and rose from her chair.\n\n\"I smell dinner,\" she said, \"and it smells like it is on the table.\nLet's go in and get rid of it.\"\n\nShe led the way, and the children followed. The dinner was nothing\nextra,--just a plain, every-day, country dinner, with plenty of\npot-liquor and dumplings; but the children were hungry, and they made\nshort work of all that was placed before them. Drusilla waited on the\ntable, as she did at home, but she didn't go close to Mr. Rabbit. She\nheld out the dishes at arm's length when she offered him anything, and\nonce she came very near dropping a plate when he suddenly flapped his\nbig ear on his nose to drive off a fly.\n\nMrs. Meadows was very kind to the children, but when once the edge was\ntaken off their appetite they began to get uneasy again. There were a\nthousand questions they might have asked, but they had been told\nnever to ask questions in company. Mr. Thimblefinger, who had a keen\neye for such things, noticed that they were beginning to get glum and\ndissatisfied, and so he said with a laugh:--\n\n\"I've often heard in my travels of children who talked too much, but\nthese don't talk at all.\"\n\n\"Oh, they'll soon get over that,\" Mrs. Meadows remarked. \"Everything\nis so strange here, they don't know what to make of it. When I was a\nlittle bit of a thing my ma used to take me to quiltings, and I know\nit took me the longest kind of a time to get used to the strangers and\nall.\"\n\n\"This isn't a quilting,\" said Sweetest Susan, with a sigh; \"I wish it\nwas.\"\n\n\"I don't!\" exclaimed Buster John plumply.\n\n\"Once when I was listening through a keyhole,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger,\nplacing his tiny knife and fork crosswise on his plate, \"I heard a\nstory about a Talking-Saddle.\"\n\n\"Tell it! tell it!\" cried Buster John and Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"I suppose you have no pie to-day?\" said Mr. Rabbit.\n\n[Illustration: DRUSILLA WAITING ON MR. RABBIT]\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"we'll have the pie and the story,\ntoo.\"\n\nMr. Thimblefinger smacked his lips and winked his eye in such comical\nfashion that the children laughed heartily, but they didn't forget the\nstory.\n\n\"I don't know that I can remember the best of it,\" said Mr.\nThimblefinger. \"The wind was blowing and the keyhole was trying to\nlearn how to whistle, and I may have missed some of the story. But it\nwas such a queer one, and I was listening so closely, that I came very\nnear falling off the door-knob when some one started to come out. I\nthink we'd better eat our pie first. I might get one of those\nhuckleberries in my throat while talking, and there's no doctor close\nat hand to keep me from choking to death.\"\n\nSo they ate their huckleberry-pie, and then Mr. Thimblefinger told the\nstory.\n\n\"Once upon a time a farmer had five sons. He was not rich and he was\nnot poor. He had some land, and he had a little money. He divided his\nland equally among his four oldest sons, giving each just as much as\nhe could till. To each, he also gave a piece of money. Then he called\nhis youngest son, and said:--\n\n\"'You have sharp eyes and a keen wit. You want no land. All you need\nis a saddle. That I will give you.'\n\n\"'A saddle! What will I do with a saddle?' asked the youngest son,\nwhose name was Tip-Top.\n\n\"'Make your fortune with it.'\n\n\"'If I had a horse--'\n\n\"'A head is better than a horse,' the father replied.\n\n\"Not long after, the old man died. The land was divided up among the\nfour older sons, and Tip-Top was left with the saddle. He slung it on\nhis back and set out to make his fortune. It was not long before he\ncame to a large town. He rested for a while and then he went into the\ntown. He remembered that his father had said a head was better than a\nhorse, so, instead of carrying the saddle on his back, he put it on\nhis head. At first the people thought he was carrying the saddle\nbecause he had sold his horse for a good price, or because the animal\nhad died. But he went through street after street still carrying the\nsaddle on his head, never pausing to look around or to speak to\nanybody, and at last the people began to wonder. Some said he was a\nsimpleton, some said he was a saddle-maker advertising his wares, and\nsome said he was a tramp who ought to be arrested and put in the\nworkhouse.\n\n\"This talk finally reached the ears of the Mayor of the town, and he\nsent for Tip-Top to appear before him.\"\n\n\"What is a Mayor?\" asked Sweetest Susan suddenly.\n\n\"He de head patter-roller,\" said Drusilla, before anybody else could\nreply.\n\n\"That's about right,\" Mr. Thimblefinger declared. \"Well, the Mayor\nsent for Tip-Top. But instead of going to the place where the Mayor\nheld his court, Tip-Top inquired where his house was and went there.\nNow, when Tip-Top knocked at the Mayor's door the servant, seeing the\nman with a saddle on his head, began to scold him.\n\n\"'Do you think the Mayor keeps his harness in the parlor? Go in the\nside gate and carry the saddle in the cellar where it belongs. Hang it\non the first peg you see.'\n\n\"Tip-Top tried to say something, but the servant shut the door with a\nbang. Then Tip-Top did as he was bid. He went through the side gate,\nand found the cellar without any trouble, but instead of hanging the\nsaddle on a peg, he placed it on the floor and sat on it.\n\n\"After waiting patiently a while, wondering when the Mayor would call\nhim, Tip-Top heard voices on the other side of the wall. He listened\nclosely, and soon found that the housemaid who had driven him away\nfrom the Mayor's door was talking to her brother, who had just\nreturned from a long journey.\n\n\"'The Mayor has gold,' said the brother. 'You must tell me where he\nkeeps it. I have a companion in my travels, and to-night we shall come\nand take the treasure.'\n\n\"For a long time the housemaid refused to tell where the Mayor kept\nhis gold, but the brother threatened and coaxed, and finally she told\nhim where the treasure lay.\n\n\"'It is in a closet by the chimney in the first room to the right at\nthe head of the stairs. The gold is in an iron box and it is very\nheavy.'\n\n\"'My companion has long hair and a strong arm,' said the brother. 'He\nis cross-eyed and knock-kneed. It wouldn't do for you to meet him in\nthe hallway. Go to bed early and lock your door, and if you hear any\noutcry during the night cover your head with a pillow and go to sleep\nagain.'\n\n\"Then the housemaid and her brother went away.\n\n\"'Well,' said Tip-Top, 'this is no place for me.'\n\n\"He waited a while, and then went out of the cellar into the yard with\nhis saddle on his head. The cook, seeing him there, told him to carry\nthe saddle to the stable where the horses were kept. Tip-Top went to\nthe stable, placed his saddle in an empty stall, and sat on it.\n\n\"After a while he heard two persons come in from the street. They went\ninto a stall near by and began to talk. One was the coachman and the\nother was his nephew, who had just returned from a long journey.\n\n\"'The Mayor has fine horses,' said the nephew. 'I must have two of\nthem to-night, otherwise I am ruined forever.'\n\n\"The coachman refused to listen at first, but after a while he\nconsented. He told his nephew that the stable-boy slept in the manger.\n\n\"'I have a companion in my travels,' said his nephew, 'and to-night\nwe shall come and take the horses away. My companion has short hair\nand a heavy hand. Close your eyes and cover your head with straw if\nyou hear any outcry.'\n\n\"After a while the coachman and his nephew went out into the street\nagain, and then Tip-Top came forth from the stable with the saddle on\nhis head. The Mayor had just come in, and was standing at his window.\nHe saw the man in the yard with the saddle on his head, and sent a\nservant to call him.\n\n\"'What is your name?' asked the Mayor.\n\n\"'Tip-Top, your honor.'\n\n\"'I didn't ask after your health; I asked for your name,' said the\nMayor.\n\n\"'It is Tip-Top, your honor.'\n\n\"'Your name or your health?'\n\n\"'Both, your honor.'\n\n\"'What are you doing here?'\n\n\"'His honor, the Mayor, sent for me, your honor.'\n\n\"'What were you doing just now?'\n\n\"'Waiting to be sent for, your honor.'\n\n\"'Where is your horse?' asked the Mayor.\n\n[Illustration: TIP-TOP AND THE MAYOR]\n\n\"'I have no horse, your honor.'\n\n\"'Why do you carry your saddle?'\n\n\"'Because no one will carry it for me, your honor.'\n\n\"'Why do you not sell it and be rid of it, ninny?'\n\n\"'Few are rich enough to buy it, your honor.'\n\n\"'How much money is it worth?'\n\n\"'Two thousand pieces of gold, your honor.'\n\n\"'Are you crazy?' cried the Mayor. 'Why is it so valuable?'\n\n\"'It is a Talking-Saddle, your honor.'\n\n\"'What does it say?'\n\n\"'Everything, your honor. It warns, it predicts, and it gives advice.'\n\n\"'Let it talk for me,' said the Mayor, full of curiosity.\n\n\"'Your honor would fail to understand its language,' replied Tip-Top.\n\n\"'Let it talk and do you tell me what it says.'\n\n\"Tip-Top placed his saddle on the carpet and pressed his foot against\nit until the leather made a creaking noise.\n\n\"'I am waiting,' said the Mayor. 'What does the saddle say?'\n\n\"'It says, your honor, that you must call the housemaid.'\n\n\"The Mayor, to humor the joke, did so. The housemaid came, grumbling.\nShe looked at the saddle, at Tip-Top, and then at the Mayor.\n\n\"'Now what does the saddle say?' asked the Mayor.\n\n\"'It says, your honor, that this woman has a brother, who has just\nreturned from a journey in strange lands. The saddle says, your honor,\nthat this woman's brother has a companion who has long hair and a\nstrong arm.'\n\n\"'Is that all?' asked the Mayor.\n\n\"'No, your honor, it is not half.'\n\n\"'It is very strange,' said the housemaid.\n\n\"'The saddle says, your honor, that if you will sit in the closet by\nthe chimney, in the first room to the right, where there is an iron\nbox that is very heavy, you will receive a visit to-night from this\nwoman's brother and his companion.'\n\n\"The Mayor was very much astonished, but before he could open his lips\nthe woman fell on her knees and confessed all. The Mayor called an\nofficer and sent her away. Then he turned to Tip-Top, and asked:--\n\n\"'Is that all?'\n\n\"'By no means, your honor. The saddle says send for the coachman.'\n\n\"The Mayor did so, and the coachman came, bowing and smiling.\n\n\"'How much is the saddle worth?' the Mayor asked him.\n\n\"'Master, it is worthless,' replied the coachman, with a sneer.\n\n\"'Let us see,' said the Mayor. Then, turning to Tip-Top: 'What does\nthe saddle say?'\n\n\"'It says, your honor, that this coachman here has a nephew, who has\njust returned from a long journey. It says that the nephew has a\ncompanion who has short hair and a heavy hand.'\n\n\"'What more?'\n\n\"'The saddle says, your honor, that if you will sleep in the manger\nwhere your two finest horses feed, you will receive a visit from the\ncoachman's nephew and his traveling companion.'\n\n\"The coachman implored his master's mercy, and told all. Of course,\nthe Mayor was very much astonished. He turned his unfaithful servants\nover to an officer, and that night had a watch set around his house\nand stable, and caught the thieves and their companions.\"\n\n\"But the saddle didn't talk,\" said Sweetest Susan. \"So the man didn't\ntell what was true.\" She made this remark with so much dignity that\nMrs. Meadows laughed.\n\nBut Buster John was quite impatient.\n\n\"This isn't a girl's story,\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"It is for girls as well as boys.\nSometimes people tell stories just to pass the time away, and if the\nstories have little fibs in 'em, that don't do anybody any harm, they\njust keep them in there. If they didn't, the story wouldn't be true.\"\n\n\"Is that the end of the story of the Talking-Saddle?\" asked Buster\nJohn.\n\n\"No! Oh, no!\" Mr. Thimblefinger answered. \"I was just going to tell\nyou the rest.\"\n\nBut before he could go on with it, the noise of laughter was heard at\nthe door, and then there came running in a queer-looking girl and a\nvery queer-looking boy.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE TALKING-SADDLE AND THE THIEF.\n\n\nThe queer-looking girl was running from the very queer-looking boy,\nand both were laughing loudly. When they saw the children sitting at\nthe table they both stopped suddenly. The queer-looking girl turned\nand made a wry face at the very queer-looking boy. At this both burst\nout laughing, and suddenly stopped again.\n\n\"Be ashamed of yourselves!\" exclaimed old Mr. Rabbit, rapping on the\nfloor with his cane. \"Be ashamed! Where are your manners? Go and speak\nto our friends and make your best bow, too,--don't forget that!\" Mr.\nRabbit appeared to be very indignant.\n\nMrs. Meadows was in a better humor. \"This,\" she said, as the\nqueer-looking girl came forward, \"is Chickamy Crany Crow, and this,\"\nas the very queer-looking boy came timidly up, \"is Tickle-My-Toes.\"\n\nThey bowed, and then went off a little way, looking very solemn and\ncomical. They didn't dare glance at each other for fear they would\nbegin laughing again. The reason they looked so queer was because,\nalthough they acted like children, they were old in appearance,--as\nold as a person past middle age.\n\n\"They are country-raised, poor things! You'll have to excuse them.\nThey don't know any better.\" Mr. Thimblefinger sighed as he said this,\nand looked thoughtful.\n\n\"What about the Talking-Saddle?\" Buster John inquired. \"You said the\nstory wasn't finished.\"\n\n\"To be sure! To be sure!\" Mr. Thimblefinger cried. \"My mind is like a\nwagon without a tongue. It goes every way but the right way. Where was\nI? Oh, yes, I remember now.\"\n\n\"Well, the Mayor was very thankful to Tip-Top for saving his treasure\nand his horses, but he wasn't satisfied about the saddle. He was\nworried. Now, you know when a child is worried it cries, but when a\ngrown man is worried he sits down and looks away off, and puts his\nelbow in his hand and his finger to his nose--so.\"\n\n\"Oh, I've seen papa do that,\" laughed Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"Yes, that's the way the Mayor did,\" Mr. Thimblefinger continued.\n\"There was a great thief in that country who had never been caught. He\ndidn't care for judges and juries and courthouses. He always sent the\nMayor word when he was coming to the city and when he was going away.\n\n\"Now, the Mayor had received a letter from this man just the day\nbefore Tip-Top came. The thief said he was coming after a fine\nrace-horse that was owned by the Mayor's brother. So the Mayor sat and\nthought, and finally he asked Tip-Top if his Talking-Saddle could\ncatch a famous thief.\n\n\"'It has just caught four common rogues, your honor,' replied Tip-Top,\n'and I think it can catch one uncommon thief.'\n\n\"Then the Mayor told Tip-Top that the most famous thief in all that\ncountry intended to steal his brother's race-horse. Tip-Top said he\nmust see the horse, and together they went to the stable where it was\nkept. The horse was already guarded. Two servants sat in the stall,\ntwo sat outside, and two remained near the door. The Mayor's brother\nwas also there.\n\n\"'What is this?' the brother asked.\n\n\"'This fellow wants to sell his saddle,' replied the Mayor.\n\n\"'Then arrest him,' cried the brother, 'for he is the thief.'\n\n\"'Nonsense,' replied the Mayor. 'He is a very honest man and I will\nvouch for him.'\n\n\"Then the Mayor called his brother aside and told him why the man with\nthe saddle had come to see the horse.\n\n\"Tip-Top talked with the men who had been set to guard the horse, and\nhe soon found that one of them was an accomplice of the thief. This\nman made a swift sign to Tip-Top, and placed his finger on his mouth.\nTip-Top replied by closing his eyes with his fingers, as if to show\nthat he saw nothing. When he had an opportunity he said to this man:--\n\n\"'Tell your master I will be willing to sell the saddle to-night. I\nwill sleep with it under my head on the next corner. It is worth one\nthousand pieces of gold.'\n\n\"Then he returned to the Mayor, and they went away. Tip-Top laughed as\nthey walked along. 'This thief,' he remarked, 'is a fool. It is so\neasy to steal a horse that he will not buy a saddle. He will try to\nsteal mine. Then we shall catch him. He will get the horse--'\n\n\"'What!' cried the Mayor; 'get the horse?'\n\n\"'Certainly; nothing is easier,' replied Tip-Top. 'He will get the\nhorse, and then he will want a saddle. He will be passing the wall\nhere. He will see me sleeping with my head on my friend and then he\nwill attempt to steal it, but the surcingle will be buckled around my\nbody, and I will awake and cry blue murder. Then you and your brother\ncan come forward from the vacant house yonder and seize him.'\n\n\"'Where did you learn all this?' asked the Mayor. He began to suspect\nthat his brother was right when he said that Tip-Top was the thief.\n\n\"'My saddle told me,' Tip-Top answered.\n\n\"'Well,' said the Mayor, 'your plan is as good as any, but how will\nthe thief get the horse that is so well guarded?'\n\n\"'Ah!' Tip-Top exclaimed, 'if I were to tell you, we should never\ncatch the thief.'\n\n\"So it was all arranged. Tip-Top was to sleep on his Talking-Saddle,\nnear the wall and the Mayor and his brother were to watch from the\nwindows of the vacant house opposite.\n\n\"When night came, the watchers who had been set to guard the horse\nwere very anxious. They were ready to arrest any one who might chance\nto enter. Whenever they heard footsteps approaching they seized their\nclubs and stood on the defensive. Sometimes a passer-by would pause,\nlook in, and ask what the trouble was. Then the watchers would reply\nthat they were waiting for the great thief who was coming to steal the\nfine horse. Thus the hours passed, but no thief came. Then the\nwatchers began to get tired.\n\n\"'We are crazy,' said one. 'How can a thief steal this horse, even if\nhe were to come in here? We are four to one. Two of us should sleep a\nwhile, and thus we can take turns in watching.' This was agreed to,\nand two of the guards stretched themselves on the straw and prepared\nto sleep. But just then they heard some one singing far down the\nstreet. It was a jolly song, and the sound of it came louder and\nlouder. As the singer was going by, the light in the stable caught his\neye, and he paused and looked in, but still kept up his singing.\n\n\"'Friends,' he said when his song was done, 'what is the trouble?'\n\n\"'We are watching a horse.'\n\n\"'Is he sick? Perhaps I can aid you. I have doctored many a horse in\nmy day.'\n\n\"'He is not sick,' replied the watchers. 'He is well and taking his\nease. We are watching to prevent a thief from stealing him.'\n\n\"Then they told him the threat the thief had made.\n\n\"'Come, that is too good,' cried the newcomer. 'This thief will be\nworth looking at when four such stout lads as you get through with\nhim. When does he show himself?'\n\n\"'That is what we are to find out,' replied the watchers.\n\n\"'Very well,' the newcomer said; 'I'll stay, by your permission, and\nsee you double him up.'\n\n\"The watchers gave their consent gladly, for the newcomer had a lively\nmanner and a rattling tongue. He sang songs and told stories for an\nhour or more, and then pulled a bottle from under his coat.\n\n\"'A little wine,' he said, 'will clear the fog from our throats.' He\npassed the bottle around, and all drank except the guard who was\nwatching in the stall.\n\n\"Now the man who had come singing up the street was the thief himself,\nand the guard in the stall was his companion. The wine was drugged,\nand in a very few minutes three of the watchers were fast asleep. Then\nthe thief and his companion took the horse from the stall.\n\n\"'I shall have to remain here and pretend to be asleep,' said the\ncompanion. 'You will find a saddle around the corner.' He then told\nthe thief about the man with the saddle.\n\n\"'You are a fool, my friend,' said the thief. 'It is a trick--a trap.'\n\n\"But when he had carried off the horse and hid it at the house of an\nacquaintance, the thought of the man with the saddle worried him so\nthat he went back to satisfy himself. Tip-Top and his saddle were\nthere, and Tip-Top had slept so soundly that his head had rolled from\nhis pillow. The thief thought it would be a good stroke of business to\ntake the saddle along, but when he tried to lift it, Tip-Top awoke and\nseized him, and cried 'Murder!' at the top of his voice.\n\n\"The Mayor and his brother rushed from their place of concealment,\nand soon the thief was bound.\n\n\"'Where is the horse?' cried the Mayor.\n\n\"'What horse?' exclaimed the thief. 'Do you think I carry horses in my\npocket?'\n\n\"'What were you doing here, then?'\n\n\"'This fellow's head had slipped from its pillow, and when I tried to\nput it back he seized me and yelled that I was murdering him! I saw no\nhorse under the saddle.'\n\n\"'Wait here a little,' said Tip-Top. 'Hold this thief till I return.'\n\n\"He went to the stable, woke the thief's accomplice, who by this time\nwas really asleep, and told him his companion had been captured. 'If I\ncan find the horse and hide it our friend will be safe, for nothing\ncan be proved on him.'\n\n\"The man was so frightened that he told Tip-Top where he had arranged\nto meet the thief the next day. Then Tip-Top returned to the Mayor and\nhis brother, who still held the thief, and took them to the house\nwhere the horse had been stabled.\n\n\"When the horse had been found and restored to its owner the Mayor\nsaid to Tip-Top that he would not only reward him handsomely but\ngrant any request he might make.\n\n\"'Then, your honor,' replied Tip-Top, 'give this man his liberty.'\n\n\"'Why?' asked the Mayor, much astonished.\n\n\"'Because, your honor, he is my brother.'\n\n\"The thief was as much astonished as the Mayor at this turn in his\naffairs, but he had no difficulty in recognizing Tip-Top as his\nyounger brother.\n\n\"'He certainly is a man of talent,' said the Mayor, 'and it is a pity\nthat he should be executed.'\n\n\"Then the thief fell on his knees and begged the Mayor to pardon him,\npromising him to live and die an honest man. And he kept his promise.\nHe engaged in business, and, aided by Tip-Top's advice and influence,\nmade a large fortune.\"\n\n\"What became of the Talking-Saddle?\" asked Buster John.\n\n\"Well,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger, \"Tip-Top hung the saddle in his\nfront porch, as you have seen farmers do. He thought a great deal of\nit.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE MAYOR PARDONING THE THIEF]\n\n\"I've read something about the great thief,\" remarked Buster John.\n\"But the story didn't end that way. The thief escaped every time.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, you know how some people are,\" exclaimed Mrs. Meadows.\n\"They want everything to happen just so; even a thief must be a big\nman if he's in a story; but I don't believe anybody ever stole\nanything yet without getting into trouble about it.\"\n\n\"Who is that crying?\" Mr. Rabbit suddenly exclaimed.\n\n\"I hear no crying,\" said Mrs. Meadows.\n\n\"I certainly thought I heard crying,\" persisted Mr. Rabbit.\n\n\"It is Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes singing. Listen!\"\n\nSure enough the queer-looking boy and the queer-looking girl were\nsinging a song. One sang one line and the other the next line, and\nthis made the song somewhat comical. The words were something like\nthese:--\n\n\nCHICKAMY CRANY CROW.\n\n            Oh sing it slow,\n            This song of woe,\n    Of the girl who went to wash her toe!\n            Her name was Chick--\n            (Oh run here quick--\n            The word's so thick)--\n    Chickamy--Chickamy Crany Crow!\n\n            Chickamy what? and Chickamy which?\n            She went to the well and fell in the ditch;\n            What o'clock, old Witch?\n\n            The clock struck one\n            And bowed to the sun;\n    But the sun was fast asleep you know;\n            And the moon was quick,\n            With her oldtime trick--\n            To hide from Chick--\n    Chickamy--Chickamy Crany Crow!\n\n            Chickamy what? and Chickamy which?\n            She went to the well and fell in the ditch;\n            What o'clock, old Witch?\n\n            Oh, sad to tell!\n            She went to the well--\n    The time was as close to eve as to dawn--\n            To Chickamy Chick,\n            So supple and slick,\n            The clock said \"Tick!\"\n    But when she came back her chicken was gone!\n\n            Oh, whatamy, whichamy, chickamy, oh!\n            Moonery, oonery, tickamy Toe!\n            Wellery, tellery, gittery go!\n            Witchery, itchery, knitchery know.\n\n[Illustration: CHICKAMY CRANY CROW AND TICKLE-MY-TOES]\n\n\"What kinder gwines on is dat?\" exclaimed Drusilla, whose mind had\nnever been quite easy since she walked through the dry water in the\nspring without getting drowned. \"We all better be makin' our way\nto'rds home. Time we git dar--ef we ever is ter git dar--it'll be dark\ngood. Den what yo' ma gwine to say? She gwine ter talk wid de flat er\nher han'--dat what she gwine ter talk wid. Come on!\"\n\n\"Can't you be quiet?\" cried Buster John. \"It's nothing but a song.\"\n\n\"Oh, you kin stay, an' I'll stay wid you,\" said Drusilla; \"but when\nMistiss git you in de wash-room, don't you come sayin' dat I wouldn't\nfetch you home.\"\n\n\"I want to see everything,\" said Buster John.\n\n\"I done seed much ez I want ter see,\" replied Drusilla, \"an' now I\nwant ter live ter tell it.\"\n\nBefore Buster John could say anything more, everything suddenly grew a\nlittle darker, and in the middle of the sky--or what ought to have\nbeen the sky, but which was the enlarged bottom of the spring--there\nwas a huge shadow. The children looked at it in silence.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE LADDER OF LIONS.\n\n\nThe shadow that seemed to fall over everything caused Buster John and\nSweetest Susan and Drusilla to run to the door. It was not a very dark\nshadow, but it was dark enough to attract their attention and excite\ntheir alarm. They were not yet used to their surroundings, for,\nalthough a great many things they saw and heard were familiar to them,\nthey could not forget that they had come through the water in the\nspring. They could not forget that Mr. Thimblefinger was the smallest\ngrown person they had ever seen,--even if he were a grown person,--nor\ncould they forget that they had never seen a rabbit so wonderfully\nlarge as Mr. Rabbit. Drusilla expressed the feelings of all when she\nremarked that she felt \"skittish.\" They were ready to take alarm at\nanything that might happen. Therefore they ran to the door to see what\nthe shadow meant. Finally they looked up at the sky, or what seemed to\nbe the sky, and there they saw, covering a large part of it, the\nvague outline of a huge jug. The shadow wobbled about and wavered, and\nripples of light and shadow played about it and ran down to the\nhorizon on all sides.\n\nAn astronomer, seeing these fantastic wobblings and waverings of light\nand shadow in our firmament, would straightway send a letter or a\ncable dispatch to the newspapers, declaring that an unheard-of\nconvulsion was shaking the depths of celestial space. And, indeed, it\nwas all very puzzling, even to the children, but Drusilla, who had\nless imagination than any of the rest, accounted for it all by one\nbold stroke of common sense.\n\n\"Shuh! 'T ain't nothin' 't all!\" she exclaimed. \"Dey done got froo wid\ndinner at home, an' ol' Aunt 'Cindy done put de buttermilk-jug back in\nde spring.\"\n\nSweetest Susan caught her breath with a gasp, and laughed\nhysterically. She had been very much alarmed.\n\n\"I expect that's what it is,\" said Buster John, but there was some\ndoubt in his tone. He turned to Mr. Thimblefinger, who had followed\nthem. \"What time is it, please?\"\n\nMr. Thimblefinger drew his watch from his pocket with as much dignity\nas he could assume, and held his head gravely on one side. \"It is\nnow--let me see--_ahem!_--it is now precisely thirteen minutes and\neleven seconds after one o'clock.\"\n\n\"Is that the jug in the spring?\" asked Sweetest Susan, pointing to the\nhuge black shadow that was now wobbling and wavering more slowly.\n\nMr. Thimblefinger shaded his eyes with his hand and examined the\nshadow critically. \"Yes, that is the jug--the light hurts my\neyes--yes, certainly, that is the jug.\"\n\nPresently a volume of white vapor shot out from the shadow. It was\nlarger than the largest comet, and almost as brilliant.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked Sweetest Susan.\n\nMr. Thimblefinger felt almost as thoughtful as a sure-enough man of\nscience.\n\n\"That,\" said he, \"is an emanation--an exhalation, you might say--that\nwe frequently witness in our atmosphere.\"\n\n\"A which?\" asked Buster John.\n\n\"Well,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger, clearing his throat, \"it's--er--an\nemanation.\"\n\n\"Huh!\" cried Drusilla, \"'t ain't no kind er nation. It's des de milk\nleakin' out'n dat jug. I done tol' Aunt 'Cindy 'bout dat leakin' jug.\"\n\nMr. Rabbit and Mrs. Meadows had come out of the house in time to hear\nthis, and they laughed heartily. In fact, they all laughed except Mr.\nThimblefinger and Drusilla.\n\n\"It happens every day,\" said Mrs. Meadows. \"We never notice it. I\nsuppose if it happened up there where you children live, everybody\nwould make a great to-do? I'm glad I don't live there where there's so\nmuch fussing and guessing going on. I know how it is. Something\nhappens that doesn't happen every day, and then somebody'll guess one\nway and somebody another way, and the first thing you know there's a\ngreat rumpus over nothing. I'm truly glad I came away from there in\ntime to get out of the worst of it. You children had better take a\nnotion and stay here with us.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" cried Sweetest Susan. \"Mamma and papa would want to see us.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" said Mrs. Meadows. \"Well, I just came out here to tell\nyou not to get too near the Green Moss Swamp beyond the hill yonder.\nThere's an old Spring Lizard over there that might want to shake hands\nwith you with his tail. Besides it's not healthy around there; it is\ntoo damp.\"\n\n\"Oh, we are not going anywhere until we start home,\" Sweetest Susan\nremarked.\n\n\"How large is the Spring Lizard?\" inquired Buster John.\n\n\"He's a heap too big for you to manage,\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"I\ndon't know that he'd hurt you, but he's slept in the mud over there\nuntil he's so fat he can't wallow scarcely. He might roll over on you\nand hurt you some.\"\n\n\"Are there any lions over there?\" inquired Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"No, honey, not a living one,\" said Mrs. Meadows.\n\nBy this time Mr. Rabbit had come out on the piazza, bringing his\nwalking-cane and his pipe. He presently seated himself on the steps,\nand leaned his head comfortably against one of the posts.\n\n\"Well, well, well,\" he exclaimed. \"It has been years and years since\nI've heard the name of Brother Lion. Is he still living and doing\nwell?\" Mr. Rabbit turned an inquiring eye on Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"She doesn't know anything about lions,\" said Buster John.\n\n\"Why, I do!\" cried Sweetest Susan. \"I saw one once in a cage.\"\n\n\"In a cage? Brother Lion in a cage?\" Mr. Rabbit raised his hands and\nrolled his eyes in astonishment. \"What is the world coming to? Well,\nI've said many and many a time that Brother Lion was not right up\nhere.\" Mr. Rabbit tapped his forehead significantly. \"In a cage! Now,\nthat pesters me. Why, he used to go roaring and romping about the\ncountry, scaring them that didn't know him mighty nigh to death. And\nso Brother Lion is in a cage? But I might have known it. I wonder how\nthe rest of the family are getting on? Not that they are any kin to\nme, for they are not. I called him Brother Lion just to be neighborly.\nOh, no! He and his family are no kin to me. They are too heavy in both\nhead and feet for that.\"\n\nMr. Rabbit closed his eyes as if reflecting, and patted the ground\nsoftly with his foot.\n\n\"Well, well! I remember just as well as if it were yesterday the day\nI told Brother Lion that if he wasn't careful, Mr. Man would catch him\nand put him in a cage for his children to look at. But he just hooted\nat it--and now, sure enough, there he is! I mind the first time he\nbegan his pursuit of Mr. Man. That was the time he got his hand caught\nin the split of the log.\"\n\n\"I done hear my daddy tell dat tale,\" remarked Drusilla.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Rabbit, \"it soon became common talk in the\nneighborhood. Brother Lion had come a long way to hunt Mr. Man, and as\nsoon as he got his hand out of the split in the log he started to go\nhome again. I went part of the way with him, and then it was that I\ntold him he'd find himself in a cage if he wasn't careful. I made a\nburdock poultice for his hand the best I could--\"\n\n\"And it's mighty good for bruises, I tell you now!\" exclaimed Mrs.\nMeadows.\n\n\"And then Brother Lion went on home, feeling better, but still very\nmad. Crippled as he was, he was a quick traveler, and it was not long\nbefore he came to his journey's end.\n\n[Illustration: MR. RABBIT BANDAGING BROTHER LION'S PAW]\n\n\"Well, when his mother saw him she was very sorry. But when he told\nher what the matter was she was vexed. 'Aha!' said she, 'how often\nhave I told you about meddling with somebody else's business! How\noften have I told you about sticking your nose into things that don't\nconcern you! I'm not sorry for you one bit, because if you had obeyed\nme you wouldn't be coming home now with your hand mashed all to\nflinders. But, no! daddy-like, you've got to go and get yourself into\ntrouble with Mr. Man, and now you see what has come of it. I'm not\nfeeling at all well myself, but now I've got to go to work and make a\nwhole parcel of poultices and tie your hand up and nurse you--and I\ndeclare somebody ought to be nursing me this very minute.'\n\n\"That was what Brother Lion's mother said,\" continued Mr. Rabbit, \"but\nBrother Lion didn't say anything. He just lay on the sheepskin pallet\nshe made him and studied how he would be revenged on Mr. Man. After a\nwhile his hand got well, but still he said very little about the\nmatter. The more he thought about the way he had been treated, the\nmadder he got. He gnashed his teeth together and waved his long tail\nabout until it looked like a snake. Finally he sent word to all his\nkin--his uncles and his cousins--to meet him somewhere in the woods\nand hold a convention to consider how they should catch the great\nmonster, Mr. Man, who had caused a log of wood to mash Brother Lion's\nhand.\n\n\"Well, it wasn't long before the uncles and cousins began to arrive.\nThey came from far and near, and they seemed to be very ferocious.\nThey shook their manes and showed their tushes. They went off in the\nwoods and held their convention, and Brother Lion laid his complaint\nbefore them. He told them what kind of treatment he had received from\nMr. Man, and asked them if they would help to get his revenge. He made\nquite a speech, and when he sat down, his uncles and cousins were very\nmuch excited. They roared and howled. They said they were ready to\ntear Mr. Man limb from limb. They declared they were ready to go where\nhe was, and gnaw him and claw him on account of the scandalous way he\nhad treated their blood-kin.\n\n\"But when Brother Lion's mother heard what they proposed to do she\nshut her eyes and shook her head from side to side, and told the\nuncles and the cousins that they had better go back home, all of them.\nShe said that before they got through with Mr. Man they'd wish they\nhad never been born. But go they would and go they did.\n\n\"So they started out soon one morning, and traveled night and day for\nnearly a week. They were getting very tired and hungry, and some of\nthe younger blood-cousins wanted to stop and rest, and some wanted to\nturn around and go back home. But one morning while they were going\nthrough the woods, feeling a little shaky in head and limb, they\nsuddenly came in sight of Mr. Man. He was cutting down trees and\nsplitting them into timber. He had his coat off, and seemed to be very\nbusy.\n\n\"But he was not so busy that he didn't hear Mr. Lion and his uncles\nand blood-cousins sneaking through the woods over the dry leaves, and\nhe wasn't so busy that he couldn't see them moving about among the\ntrees. He was very much astonished. He wondered where so many of the\nLion family came from, and what they were doing there, but he didn't\nstop to ask any questions. He dropped his axe and climbed a tree.\n\n\"Brother Lion and his uncles and his blood-cousins were very much\npleased when they saw Mr. Man climb the tree. 'We have him now,' said\nBrother Lion, and the rest licked their jaws and smiled. Then they\ngathered around the tree and sat on their haunches and watched Mr.\nMan. This didn't do any good, for Mr. Man sat on a limb and swung his\nlegs, just as contentedly as if he was sitting in his rocking-chair at\nhome.\n\n\"Then Brother Lion and his uncles and his blood-cousins showed their\nteeth and growled. But this didn't do any good. Mr. Man swung his feet\nand whistled a dance-tune. Then Brother Lion and his blood-cousins\nopened their mouths wide and roared as loud as they could. But this\ndidn't do any good. Mr. Man leaned his head against the trunk of the\ntree and pretended to be nodding.\n\n\"This made Brother Lion and his blood-kin very mad. They ran around\nthe tree and tore the bark with their claws, and waved their tails\nback and forth. But this didn't do any good. Mr. Man just sat up\nthere and swung his feet and laughed at them.\n\n\"Brother Lion and his blood-kin soon found that if they intended to\ncapture Mr. Man they'd have to do something else besides caper around\nthe foot of the tree. So they talked it over, and Brother Lion fixed\nup a plan. He said that he would stand at the foot of the tree and\nrear up against the trunk, and one of his blood-cousins could climb on\nhis back and rear up, and then another cousin or uncle could climb up,\nand so on until there was a ladder of bloodthirsty Lions high enough\nto reach Mr. Man.\n\n\"Brother Lion, mind you, was to be at the bottom of the Lion ladder,\"\nremarked Mr. Rabbit, with a chuckle, \"and he had a very good reason\nfor it. He had had dealings with Mr. Man, and he wanted to keep as far\naway from him as possible. But before they made the Lion ladder,\nBrother Lion looked up at Mr. Man and called out:--\n\n\"'What are you doing up there?'\n\n\"'You'll find out a great deal too soon for your comfort,' replied Mr.\nMan.\n\n\"Brother Lion said, 'Come down from there.'\n\n\"Mr. Man answered, 'I'll come down much sooner than you want me to.'\n\n\"Then Brother Lion, his uncles, and his blood-cousins began to build\ntheir ladder. Brother Lion was the bottom round of this ladder, as you\nmay say,\" continued Mr. Rabbit. \"He reared up and placed his hands\nagainst the tree, and one of his uncles jumped on his shoulders, and\nput his hands against the tree. Then a cousin, and then another uncle,\nand so on until the ladder reached a considerable distance up the\ntree. It was such a high ladder that it began to wobble, and the last\nuncle had hard work to make his way to the top. He climbed up very\ncarefully and slowly, for he was not used to this sort of business. He\nwas the oldest and the fiercest of the old company, but his knees\nshook under him as he climbed up and felt the ladder shaking and\nwobbling.\n\n\"Mr. Man saw that by the time this big Lion got to the top of the\nladder his teeth and his claws would be too close for comfort, and so\nhe called out in an angry tone:--\n\n[Illustration: THE LADDER OF LIONS]\n\n\"'Just hold on! Just stand right still! Wait! I'm not after any of you\nexcept that fellow at the bottom there. I'm not trying to catch any\nof you but him. He has bothered me before. I let him go once, but I'll\nnot let him get away this time. Just stand right still and hold him\nthere till I climb down the other side of the tree.'\n\n\"With that Mr. Man shook the limbs and leaves and dropped some pieces\nof bark. This was more than Brother Lion could stand. He was so\nfrightened that he jumped from under the ladder, and his uncles and\nhis blood-cousins came tumbling to the ground, howling, growling, and\nfighting.\n\n\"They were as sorry-looking a sight as ever you saw when they came to\ntheir senses. Those that didn't have their bones broken by the fall\nwere torn and mangled. They had acted so foolishly that out of the\nwhole number, Mr. Man didn't get but three lion-skins that could be\ncalled perfect.\n\n\"Brother Lion went home to his mother as fast as he could go and\nremained quiet a long time. And now you tell me he's in a cage.\"\n\nMr. Rabbit paused and shook his head until his ears flopped.\n\nThe children seemed to enjoy the story very much; so much so, indeed,\nthat Mrs. Meadows wanted Mr. Rabbit to tell some of his own queer\nexperiences, but Mr. Rabbit laughed and said that it didn't seem\nexactly right to be telling his own stories. He said if he told the\nstories just as they happened, he'd have to talk about himself a good\ndeal, and people would think he was boastful. He declared he didn't\nfeel like making his young friends think he was bragging.\n\n\"Oh, we shan't mind that,\" said Sweetest Susan, \"shall we, brother?\"\n\n\"Why, of course not,\" replied Buster John.\n\n\"La! we all done hear folks brag, till we got hardened ter braggin'!\"\nexclaimed Drusilla.\n\nSo the children, aided by Mrs. Meadows, coaxed Mr. Rabbit until he\nfinally consented to tell some of his queer adventures.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nBROTHER TERRAPIN'S FIDDLE-STRING.\n\n\nMr. Rabbit moved his body uneasily about, and scratched his head, and\ncrossed and uncrossed his legs several times before he began.\n\n\"I declare it isn't right!\" he exclaimed after a while. \"I don't mind\ntelling about other folks, but when it comes to talking about myself,\nit is a different thing.\"\n\n\"Don't you remember the time you tried to get Brother Terrapin to give\nyou a fiddle-string?\" asked Mrs. Meadows, laughing a little.\n\n\"Oh, that was just a joke,\" replied Mr. Rabbit.\n\n\"Call it a joke, then,\" said Mrs. Meadows. \"You know what the little\nboy said when the man asked him his name. He said, says he, 'You may\ncall it anything, so you call me to dinner.'\"\n\n\"He wasn't very polite,\" remarked Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"No, indeed,\" Mrs. Meadows answered; \"but you know that little boys\ncan't always remember to be polite.\"\n\n\"I think we were at your house,\" suggested Mr. Rabbit, rubbing his\nchin.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"In the little house by the creek. The\nyard sloped from the front door right to the bank.\"\n\n\"To be sure,\" exclaimed Mr. Rabbit, brightening up. \"I remember the\nhouse just as well as if I had seen it yesterday. There was a little\nshelf on the left-hand side of the door as you came out, and there the\nwater-bucket sat.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mrs. Meadows; \"and there was just room enough up there by\nthe bucket for Brother Terrapin.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" Mr. Rabbit replied, laughing, \"and when he used to go to\nyour house to see the girls they'd set the bucket on the table in the\nhouse and lift Brother Terrapin to the shelf so he could see and be\nseen. I remember it used to make him very mad when I'd tell him he\nwould be a mighty man if he wasn't so flat-footed.\"\n\n\"Oh, you used to talk worse than that,\" cried Mrs. Meadows, laughing\nheartily at the remembrance of it. \"You used to tell him he was the\nonly man you ever saw that sat down when he stood up. I declare!\nBrother Terrapin's eyes used to get right red.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mr. Rabbit, after a pause; \"I remember I went to your\nhouse one day and I carried my fiddle. When I got there, who should I\nsee but old Brother Terrapin sitting up on the shelf. I expected to\nfind the girls by themselves, but there was Brother Terrapin. So I\nbegan to joke him.\n\n\"'Howdy, Brother Terrapin?' says I. 'If you had a ladder handy you\ncould come downstairs and shake hands, couldn't you?'\n\n\"He began to get sullen and sulky at once. He wouldn't hardly make any\nreply. But I didn't care for that. Says I: 'Cross your legs and look\ncomfortable, Brother Terrapin; don't be glum in company. I've got my\nfiddle with me, and I'm going to make your bones ache if you don't\ndance.'\n\n\"Then I whirled in,\" said Mr. Rabbit, \"and played the liveliest\ntunes I could think of,--'Billy in the Low Grounds,' ''Possum up\nthe Gum-Stump,' 'Chicken in the Bread-Tray,' and all those\nhoppery-skippery, jiggery-dancery tunes that make your feet go\nwhether or no. But there Brother Terrapin sat, looking as\nunconcerned as if the fiddle had been ten miles away. He didn't even\nkeep time to the music with his foot. More than that, he didn't even\nwag his head from side to side.\"\n\n\"I always knew Brother Terrapin had no ear for music,\" remarked Mrs.\nMeadows. \"If that was a fault, he certainly had more than his share of\nit.\"\n\n\"I ought not to talk about people behind their backs,\" Mr. Rabbit\ncontinued, trying to shake a fly out of his ear, \"but I must say that\nBrother Terrapin was very dull about some things. Well, I played and\nplayed, and the girls danced and seemed to enjoy it. I believe you\ndanced a round or two yourself?\" Mr. Rabbit turned to Mrs. Meadows\ninquiringly.\n\n\"I expect I shook my foot a little,\" said Mrs. Meadows with a sigh. \"I\nwas none too good.\"\n\n\"They danced and danced until they were tired of dancing,\" Mr. Rabbit\nresumed; \"but there sat Brother Terrapin as quiet as if he were\nasleep. Well, I was vexed--I don't mind saying so now--I was\ncertainly vexed. But I didn't let on. And between tunes I did my best\nto worry Brother Terrapin.\n\n[Illustration: MR. RABBIT FIDDLING FOR BROTHER TERRAPIN]\n\n\"'Ladies,' says I, 'don't make so much fuss. Let Brother Terrapin get\nhis nap out. You'll turn a chair over directly, and Brother Terrapin\nwill give a jump and fall off the shelf and break some of the\nfurniture in his house.' This made the girls laugh very much, for they\nremembered the old saying that Brother Terrapin carries his house on\nhis back. 'Don't laugh so loud,' says I, 'Brother Terrapin has earned\nhis rest. He's been courting on the other side of the creek, and he\nhas no carriage to ride in when he goes back and forth. Sh-h!' says I,\n'don't disturb him. When a person sits down when he stands up, and\nlies down when he walks, some allowance must be made.'\n\n\"Brother Terrapin's eyes grew redder and redder, and the skin on the\nback of his head began to work backward and forward. What might have\nhappened I don't know, but just as the girls were in the middle of a\ndance one of my fiddle-strings broke, and it was the treble, too. I\nwouldn't have minded it if it had been any of the other strings, but\nwhen the treble broke I had to stop playing.\n\n\"Well, the girls were very much disappointed and so was I, for I had\ncome for a frolic. I searched in my pockets, but I had no other\nstring. I tried to play with three strings, but the tune wouldn't\ncome. The girls were so sorry they didn't know what to do.\n\n\"Just then an idea struck me. 'Ladies,' says I, 'it's a thousand\npities I didn't bring an extra treble, and I'm perfectly willing to go\nhome and fetch one, but if Brother Terrapin was a little more\naccommodating the music could go right on. You could be dancing again\nin a little or no time.'\n\n\"'Oh, is that so?' says the girls. 'Well, we know Brother Terrapin\nwill oblige us.'\n\n\"'I'm not so sure of that,' says I.\n\n\"'What do you want me to do?' says he. His voice sounded as if he had\nthe croup.\n\n\"'Ladies,' says I, 'you may believe it or not, but if Brother Terrapin\nhas a mind to he can lend me a treble string that will just fit my\nfiddle.'\n\n\"'Brother Rabbit,' says he, 'you know I have no fiddle-string. What\nwould I be doing with one?'\n\n\"'Don't mind him, ladies. He knows just as well as I do that he has a\nfiddle-string in his neck. I can take my pocket-knife and get it out\nin half a minute,' says I.\n\n\"This made Brother Terrapin roll his eyes.\n\n\"'Be ashamed of yourself, Brother Terrapin,' says the girls. 'And we\nwere having so much fun, too.'\n\n\"'If my neck was as long and as tough as Brother Terrapin's, I'd take\none of the leaders out and make a fiddle-string of it, just to oblige\nthe ladies,' says I.\n\n\"The girls turned up their noses and tossed their heads. 'Don't pester\nBrother Terrapin,' says they. 'We'll not ask him any more.'\n\n\"'Ladies,' says I, 'there is a way to get the fiddle-string without\nasking for it. Will you please hand me a case-knife out of the\ncupboard there?'\n\n\"I rose from my chair with a sort of a frown,\" continued Mr. Rabbit,\nlaughing heartily, \"but before I could lift my hand Brother Terrapin\nrolled from the shelf and went tumbling down the slope to the creek,\nheels over head.\"\n\n\"Did it hurt him much?\" asked Sweetest Susan, with a touch of\nsympathy.\n\n\"It didn't stop his tongue,\" replied Mr. Rabbit. \"He crawled out on\nthe other side of the creek and said very bad words. He even went so\nfar as to call me out of my name. But it is all over with now,\" said\nMr. Rabbit, with a sigh. \"I bear no grudges. Let bygones be bygones.\"\n\n\"I never heard before that Brother Terrapin had a fiddle-string in his\nneck,\" said Buster John, after he had thought the matter over a\nlittle.\n\n\"In dem times,\" said Drusilla, as if to satisfy her own mind, \"you\ncouldn't tell what nobody had skacely.\"\n\n\"Why, as to that,\" replied Mr. Rabbit, \"the fiddle-string in his neck\nwas news to Brother Terrapin.\"\n\nThere was a pause here and the children seemed to be somewhat\nlistless.\n\n\"I'll tell you what I think,\" remarked Mrs. Meadows to Mr. Rabbit;\n\"these children here are lonesome, and they'll be getting homesick\nlong before the time comes for them to go. Oh, don't tell me!\" she\ncried, when the children would have protested. \"I know how I'd feel if\nI was away from home in a strange country and had nobody but queer\npeople to talk to. We are too old. Even Chickamy Crany Crow and\nTickle-My-Toes are too old, and Mr. Thimblefinger is too little.\"\n\n[Illustration: BROTHER TERRAPIN TUMBLING INTO THE CREEK]\n\n\"Well, what are we going to do about it?\" asked Mr. Rabbit, running\nhis thumb in the bowl of his pipe.\n\n\"I was just thinking,\" responded Mrs. Meadows. \"Hadn't we better bring\nout the Looking-Glass family?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mr. Rabbit, \"I leave that to you.\" To hide the smile that\ngathered around his mouth Mr. Rabbit leaned his head over and\nscratched his left ear lazily with his left foot.\n\n\"That's what I'll do,\" Mrs. Meadows declared decisively. \"These\nchildren want company they can appreciate, poor things!\"\n\nShe went into the house, and presently came out again, bringing a\nmirror about three feet wide and five feet high.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nTHE LOOKING-GLASS CHILDREN.\n\n\nThe frame of the mirror was of dark wood, curiously carved, and it was\nset on pivots between two small but stout upright posts, made of the\nsame kind of wood. As Mrs. Meadows brought the looking-glass out, it\nswung back and forth between these posts, and its polished surface\nshone with great brilliancy. The children wondered how they were to\namuse themselves with this queer toy. Mrs. Meadows placed the\nlooking-glass a little way from them, but not facing them. The frame\nwas in profile, so that they could see neither the face nor the back\nof the mirror.\n\n\"You come first,\" she said to Buster John.\n\nHe went forward, and Mrs. Meadows placed him in front of the\nlooking-glass. As he turned to face it, his reflection (as it seemed)\nstepped from the mirror and stared at him. Buster John looked at Mrs.\nMeadows for an explanation, but at that moment she beckoned to\nSweetest Susan. When Buster John moved, his image moved. Mrs.\nMeadows pushed him gently aside to make room for Sweetest Susan, and\nit seemed that some invisible hand pushed his reflection gently aside.\n\n[Illustration: SWEETEST SUSAN MEETING HER REFLECTION]\n\nSweetest Susan stepped before the looking-glass, and her reflection\nwalked out to meet her. Drusilla now came forward, and her image\nstepped forth, looking somewhat scared and showing the whites of its\neyes. Mrs. Meadows went to the looking-glass, gave it a sudden turn on\nits pivots, and carried it into the house.\n\nAll this happened so rapidly that the children hardly had time to be\nsurprised, but now that the looking-glass had been carried away and\nthey were left with their reflections, their shadows, their images (or\nwhatever it was), they didn't know what to do, or say, or think. They\ncould only look at each other in dumb astonishment. Drusilla was the\nfirst to break the silence. In her surprise she had moved quickly back\na few steps, and her image, which had come out of the looking-glass,\nhad as quickly moved forward and toward her a few steps.\n\n\"Don't come follerin' atter me!\" she cried excitedly. \"Kaze ef you\ndo, you'll sho' git hurted. I ain't done nothin' 't all ter you. I\nain't gwine ter pester you, an' I ain't gwine ter let you pester me. I\ntell you dat now, so you'll know what ter 'pen' on.\"\n\n\"Don't move! Please don't move!\" cried Sweetest Susan to Buster John.\n\"If you do I can't tell you apart. I won't know which is which. That\nwouldn't be treating me right nor Mamma, either.\"\n\nNaturally, the children were in a great predicament when Mrs. Meadows\ncame back. She saw the trouble at once, and began to laugh. It was\nfunny to see Buster John and Sweetest Susan and Drusilla standing\nthere staring first at the Looking-Glass children and then at\nthemselves, not daring to move for fear they would get mixed up with\ntheir doubles. The Looking-Glass children stared likewise, first at\nthemselves and then at the others.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" Mrs. Meadows asked. \"Why don't you go and play\nwith one another and make friends? It isn't many folks that have the\nchance you children have got.\"\n\n\"I don't feel like playing,\" said Sweetest Susan. \"I'm afraid we'll\nget mixed up so that nobody will know one from the other.\"\n\n\"Why, there's all the difference in the world,\" exclaimed Mrs.\nMeadows, trying hard not to laugh. \"The Looking-Glass children are all\nleft-handed. You have a flower on the left side of your hat, the other\nSusan has a flower on the right side of hers. Your brother there has\nbuttons on the right side of his coat; the other John has buttons on\nthe left side. There is a flaw in the looking-glass, and Drusilla,\nbeing a little taller than you two, was just tall enough for the end\nof her nose to be even with the flaw. That's the reason the other\nDrusilla's nose looks like it had been mashed with a hammer.\"\n\n\"Yes 'm, it do!\" exclaimed Drusilla. She involuntarily took a step\nforward to take a nearer view of the flawed nose, and of course the\nother Drusilla took a step forward as if to show the flawed nose.\n\"Don't you dast ter come 'bout me!\" exclaimed Drusilla. \"Goodness\nknows, I don't look dat away. Go on, now! Go 'ten' ter yo' own\nbusiness ef you got any.\"\n\n\"I don't want to play with you,\" said the other Drusilla. \"You've got\nsmut on your face. I don't like to play with dirty-faced girls.\"\n\n\"My face cleaner'n yone dis blessed minnit,\" retorted Drusilla.\n\n\"And your hair is not combed,\" said the other Drusilla. \"It is wrapped\nwith strings, and you couldn't comb it if you wanted to. I think it is\na shame.\"\n\n\"Look at yo' own head!\" retorted Drusilla angrily. \"It's mo' woolly\ndan what mine is. 'T ain't never been kyarded much less combed. An'\nwho got any mo' strings roun' der hair dan you got on yone?\"\n\n\"How could I help it?\" the other Drusilla asked. \"You came and looked\nat me in the glass and I had to be just like you, smutty face and all.\nI don't think it is right. I know I never looked like this before, and\nI hope I never shall again.\"\n\n\"Tut, tut!\" said Mrs. Meadows; \"don't get to mooning around here. You\nmight look better, but you don't look so bad. It will all come right\non wash-day, as the woman said when she put her dress on wrong side\noutwards. Here comes Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes. They'll\nbe glad to see you, no matter how you look.\"\n\nAnd they were. They ran to the Looking-Glass children and greeted\nthem warmly. Tickle-My-Toes stared at the other Drusilla in surprise,\nbut he didn't laugh at her. \"You look as if you had fallen down the\nchimney,\" he said, \"but that doesn't make any difference. So long as\nyou are here, we are satisfied.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't mind it,\" said the other Drusilla.\n\n\"Now, then,\" remarked Mrs. Meadows, \"you couldn't please us better\nthan to sing us a song. You haven't practiced together for a long\ntime.\"\n\nThe other children looked at one another in a shamefaced way, and\nthen, without a word of objection or explanation, they began to sing\nas with one voice, the most plaintive song that ever was heard. It may\nbe called:--\n\n\nTHE LOOKING-GLASS SONG.\n\n    It's oh! and it's ah! It's alack! and alas!\n    Just imagine you lived in a big looking-glass!\n\n    Oh, what could you say and what could you do\n    If you lived all alone in the toe of a shoe?\n    You could hop, you could skip, you could jump, you could dance,\n    And you'd hear very little of \"shouldn'ts\" and \"shan'ts.\"\n    You could stump your big toe, and it would never get hurt;\n    You could kick up the sand, you could play in the dirt.\n\n    But it's oh! and it's ah! It's alack! and alas!\n    Just imagine you lived in a big looking-glass!\n\n    Oh, what could you do, and what would you say\n    If you lived in the pantry all night and all day?\n    You could say it was jolly, and splendid, and nice;\n    You could eat all the jelly, and frighten the mice.\n    You could taste the preserves, you could nibble the cheese--\n    You could smell the red pepper, and sit down and sneeze.\n\n    But it's oh! and it's ah! It's alack! and alas!\n    Just imagine you lived in a big looking-glass!\n\n    Oh, what could you do if you lived under ground?\n    You could ride Mr. Mole and go galloping round;\n    You could hear the black cricket a-playing his fife,\n    For to quiet the baby and please his dear wife.\n    You could hear the green grasshopper frying his meat,\n    Near the nest of the June-Bug under the wheat.\n    You could get all the goobers and artichokes, too--\n    You could peep from the window the grub-worm went through.\n\n    But it's oh! and it's ah! It's alack! and alas!\n    Just imagine you lived in a big looking-glass!\n\n\"Oh, I think that is splendid,\" cried Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"Mr. Rabbit doesn't like it much,\" replied Mrs. Meadows, \"but I tell\nhim it is pretty good for children that were raised in a\nLooking-Glass.\"\n\n\"It will do very well,\" remarked Mr. Rabbit, \"but you'll hear nicer\nsongs by the time you are as old as I am.\"\n\n\"Dem ar white chillun done mighty well,\" said Drusilla, \"but I don't\nlike de way dat ar nigger gal hilt her head.\"\n\n\"Do they have to stay in the looking-glass?\" asked Buster John. \"If\nthey do I'm sorry for them.\"\n\n\"I ain't sorry fer dat black gal,\" said Drusilla spitefully. \"She too\nugly ter suit me.\"\n\n\"Whose fault is it but yours?\" cried Chickamy Crany Crow.\n\n\"Yes, whose fault is it?\" cried Tickle-My-Toes.\n\n\"Come, come!\" cries Mrs. Meadows. \"We want no trouble here.\"\n\n\"We'll not trouble her,\" answered Tickle-My-Toes. \"Old\nRawhead-and-Bloody-Bones will do the troubling.\"\n\n\"Now you all heah dat!\" exclaimed Drusilla, in some alarm. \"I ain't\npesterin' nobody, an' I ain't doin' nothin' 't all. Ef I can't talk I\ndes ez well quit livin'. I'm gwine home, I am, an' ef I can't fin' de\nway, den I'll know who'll have ter answer fer it.\"\n\n\"Well, if you go,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"you'll have company. The other\nblack girl will have to go too.\"\n\n\"How come dat?\" exclaimed Drusilla.\n\n\"It would take me too long to tell you,\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"Why\ndoes your shadow in a looking-glass make every motion that you make?\nBecause it's obliged to--that's all. That's just the reason the other\nblack girl would follow you.\"\n\n\"Don't mind Drusilla,\" said Buster John. \"She just talks to hear\nherself talk. Her mouth flies open before she knows it.\"\n\n\"Well, the poor things won't trouble you long,\" said Mrs. Meadows.\n\"They'll want to go back home presently.\"\n\n\"Do they have to stay in the looking-glass?\" inquired Buster John,\nrepeating a question he had already asked.\n\n\"Well, they were born and raised there,\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"It is\ntheir home, and, although they are glad to get out for a little while,\nthey wouldn't be very happy if they had to stay out.\"\n\n[Illustration: THEY ALL PLUNGED INTO THE LOOKING-GLASS]\n\nThe children and the Looking-Glass children played together a little\nwhile, or made believe to play, but they didn't seem to enjoy\nthemselves. Mrs. Meadows noticed this and asked Mr. Rabbit the reason.\n\n\"Simple enough, simple enough,\" Mr. Rabbit answered. \"They are so much\nalike in their looks and ways and so different in their raising that\nthey can't get on together. How would I feel if my double were to walk\nout of the side of the house and sit here facing me and mimicking my\nevery motion? I wouldn't feel very comfortable, I can tell you.\"\n\n\"I reckon not,\" said Mrs. Meadows. Presently she called the children,\nbrought out the looking-glass and told them it was time to bid the\nothers good-by. At this the other children seemed to be very well\npleased. The other Buster John and the other Sweetest Susan shook\nhands all round, and the other Drusilla made a curtsey to the company.\nThen, with a run and a jump, they plunged into the big looking-glass\nas you have seen youngsters plunge into a pond of water.\n\n\"Ho!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger, \"they jumped in with a splash, but they\nnever made a ripple.\"\n\n\"They haven't room enough in there to turn around,\" said Sweetest\nSusan.\n\n\"Why not?\" inquired Mr. Thimblefinger. \"To them the world is a\nlooking-glass, and a mighty little one at that. If you were to peep in\ntheir glass now they'd peep back at you; but, as they look at it, you\nare in a looking-glass and they are out of it. And I wouldn't be\nsurprised if they are a great deal sorrier for you than you are for\nthem.\"\n\n\"When are we to go home?\" asked Sweetest Susan plaintively.\n\n\"Oho! you want to get back into your looking-glass!\" cried Mr.\nThimblefinger merrily. \"Well, you won't have long to wait. By rights,\nyou ought to stay here twelve hours, but the old Spring Lizard and I\nhave put our heads together, and we've fixed it so that you can get\nback before sundown.\"\n\n\"Isn't it night at home now?\" inquired Buster John.\n\n\"Why, they are hardly through washing the dinner dishes,\" replied Mrs.\nMeadows.\n\n\"It is just half past two,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, looking at his\nwatch.\n\n\"Well, it look so dark all dis time dat I done got hungry fer supper,\"\nremarked Drusilla.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nMR. RABBIT AS A RAIN-MAKER.\n\n\n\"I hope it won't rain,\" said Sweetest Susan, \"for then the spring\nwould fill up so we couldn't get out, and we should get wet down\nhere.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger, \"the water is never wet down\nhere. It is a little damp, that's all.\"\n\n\"Well, that's enough, I'm sure,\" remarked Mr. Rabbit. \"It's enough to\ngive me the wheezes when I first get up in the morning, and it's not\nat all comfortable, I can tell you.\"\n\n\"There is one funny thing about springs,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"no\nmatter how much it rains, they never get any fuller. They may run a\nlittle freer, but they never get any fuller. Speaking of rains,\" she\ncontinued, turning to Mr. Rabbit and laughing, \"don't you remember the\ntime you set yourself up as a rain-maker?\"\n\nMr. Rabbit chuckled so that he bent nearly double.\n\n\"I don't remember that,\" sighed Mr. Thimblefinger. \"You two have more\njokes between you than you can shake a stick at. That comes of me\nbeing small and puny. Tell us about it, please.\"\n\nMr. Rabbit fingered his pipe--a way he had when he put on his\nthinking-cap, as Mrs. Meadows expressed it--and presently said:--\n\n\"It's not such a joke after all, but I'll let you judge for yourself.\nOnce upon a time, when all of us lived next door, on the other side of\nthe spring, there was a tremendous drouth. I had been living a long\ntime, but never before had seen such a long dry spell. Everybody was\nfarming except myself, and even I had planted a small garden.\n\n\"Well, there was a big rain about planting-time, but after that came\nthe drouth, and the hot weather with it. One month, six weeks, two\nmonths, ten weeks--and still no sign of rain. The cotton was all\nshriveled up, and the corn looked as if it would catch a-fire, it was\nso dry; even the cow-peas turned yellow. Everything was parched. The\ncreeks ran dry, and the rivers got so low the mills had to stop. I\nremember that when Brother Bear tried to carry me across the ferry\nhis flatboat ran aground in the middle of the river, and the water was\nso low we found we could wade out.\n\n\"The drouth got so bad that everybody was complaining--everybody\nexcept me. Brother Wolf and Brother Bear would come and sit on my\nfront porch and do nothing but complain; but I said nothing. I simply\nsmoked my pipe and shook my head, and said nothing. They noticed this,\nafter so long a time, and one day, while they were sitting there\ncomplaining and declaring that they were ruined, I went in to get a\ndrink of water. I came back gently and heard them asking each other\nhow it was that I didn't join in their complaints. When I came out,\nBrother Wolf says, says he: 'Brother Rabbit, how are your craps?' I\nremember he said 'craps.'\n\n\"'Well,' says I, 'my craps are middling good. They might be better,\nand they might be worse, but I have no cause to grumble.'\n\n\"They looked at each other, and then Brother Bear asked if I had had\nany rain at my house. 'None,' says I, 'to brag about--a drizzle here\nand a drizzle there, but nothing to boast of.'\n\n\"They looked at each other in great surprise, and then Brother Wolf\nspoke up. 'Brother Rabbit,' says he, 'how can you get a drizzle and\nthe rest of us not a drop?'\n\n\"'Well,' says I, 'some folks that know me call me the rain-maker. They\nmay be right. They may be wrong. I'm not going to squabble about it.\nYou can call me what you please. I shall not dispute with you.'\n\n\"Presently they went away, but it wasn't long before they came back,\nbringing with them all the neighbors for miles around. They gathered\nin the porch and in the yard and outside the gate, and begged me, if I\nwas a rain-maker, to make it rain there and then to save their crops.\nThey begged me and begged me, but I sat cross-legged and smoked my\npipe--this same pipe you see here. Brother Fox, who had done me many a\nmean trick (though he was always well paid for it), got on his knees\nand begged me to make it rain for them.\n\n\"Finally I told them that I'd make it rain for the whole settlement on\ntwo conditions. The first condition was that every one was to pay\ntoll.\"\n\n[Illustration: MR. RABBIT SAYING NOTHING]\n\n\"Toll is the pay the miller takes out at the mill,\" remarked Buster\nJohn.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Mr. Rabbit, \"you take your turn of meal to the mill and\nthe miller takes his payment out of the meal. Well, I told them they'd\nhave to pay toll. They agreed to that, and then asked what else they'd\nhave to do, but I said we'd attend to one thing at a time. First let\nthe toll be paid.\n\n\"They went off, and in due time they came back. Some brought corn and\nsome brought meal; some brought wheat and some brought flour; some\nbrought milk and some brought butter; some brought honey in the clean,\nand some brought honey in the comb; some brought one thing and some\nbrought another, but they all brought something.\n\n\"Then they gathered around and asked what else they had to do. 'Well,'\nsays I, 'you certainly act as if you wanted rain--all of you--there's\nno disputing that. You have paid the toll according to agreement. You\nhave surely earned the rain, and now there's nothing for me to do but\nto find out how much rain you want.'\n\n\"With that they all began to talk at once, especially Brother Bear,\nwho lived in the upland district, where the drouth had been the worst,\nbut I put an end to that at once.\n\n\"'Hold on there!' says I, 'just wait! Don't get into any dispute\naround here. You are on my grounds and at my house. Let's have no\nsquabbling. I'm not feeling so mighty well, anyhow, and the least fuss\nwill be enough to upset me. But the world is wide. Just go on yonder\nhill and fix up the whole matter to suit yourselves. Just come to some\nagreement as to how much rain you want, and as soon as you agree send\nme word, and then go home and hoist your parasols, for there'll surely\nbe a sprinkle.'\n\n\"Well,\" Mr. Rabbit continued, \"this was such a sensible plan that they\ncouldn't help but agree to it, and presently they all went to the hill\nand began to talk the matter over, while I went into the house.\n\n\"This was in the morning. Well, dinner-time came, but still no word\nhad come from the convention on the hill. I went out into the porch,\nflung my red handkerchief over my face to keep the flies off, and took\nmy afternoon nap, but still no word came from the hill. Then I fell\nto laughing, and laughed until I nearly choked myself.\"\n\n\"But what were you laughing at?\" Buster John inquired, with a serious\nair.\n\nMr. Rabbit paused, looked at the youngster solemnly, and said, \"Well,\nI'll tell you. I didn't laugh because anybody had hurt my feelings. I\njust laughed at circumstances. I sat and waited until the afternoon\nwas half gone, and then slipped up the hill to see what was to be seen\nand hear what was to be heard. Everything was very quiet up there.\nThose who had gone up there to decide what sort of rain they wanted\nwere sitting; around under the pine-trees, looking very sour and\nsaying nothing. The ground was torn up a little in spots, and I\nthought I could see scattered around little patches of hair and little\npieces of hide. I judged from that that the arguments they had used\nwere very serious. I watched them from behind the bushes a little\nwhile, and then Brother Bear walked out into the open and declared\nthat any one who didn't want the rain to be a trash-mover was anything\nbut a nice fellow. At this Brother Coon, who lived in the low\ngrounds, remarked that anybody who wanted anything more than a drizzle\nwas not well raised at all.\n\n\"Then I soon found out what the trouble was. Brother Bear, living on\nthe uplands, wanted a big rain; Brother Coon, who lived in the low\ngrounds, wanted a little rain; Brother Fox wanted a tolerably heavy\nshower; and Brother Mink just wanted a cloudy night to coax the frogs\nout. Some wanted a freshet, some wanted a drizzle, and some wanted a\nfog.\n\n\"They wouldn't agree because they couldn't agree,\" continued Brother\nRabbit, \"and finally they slunk off to their homes one at a time. So I\ndidn't have to make any rain at all.\"\n\n\"But you couldn't have made it rain,\" said Sweetest Susan placidly.\n\n\"I didn't say I could,\" replied Mr. Rabbit. \"I told them I would make\nthe rain if they would agree among themselves.\"\n\n\"But you took what they brought you?\" suggested Sweetest Susan in a\ntone that was intended for a rebuke.\n\n[Illustration: BROTHER BEAR ARGUING THE RAIN QUESTION]\n\n\"Well,\" Mr. Rabbit answered, \"you know what the old saying is--'Fools\nhave to pay for their folly.' They might as well have paid me as to\npay somebody else. That's the way I looked at it in those days. I\ndon't know how I'd look at it now, because I'm not so nimble footed as\nI used to be, nor so full of mischief.\"\n\n\"If there had been many more such fools in your neighborhood,\"\nremarked Mr. Thimblefinger, \"you could have set up a grocery-store.\"\n\nThere was a little pause, and then Mrs. Meadows, looking around,\nexclaimed:--\n\n\"Just look yonder, will you?\"\n\nChickamy Crany Crow had two sticks, and with these she was playing on\nan imaginary fiddle. Tickle-My-Toes had the broom, and this, he\npretended, was a banjo.\n\nThe two queer-looking creatures wagged their heads from side to side\nand patted the ground with their feet, just as though they were making\nsure-enough music, and presently Tickle-My-Toes sang this song to a\nvery lively tune:--\n\n\nOH, LULLYMALOO!\n\n    I'll up and I'll grin if you tickle my chin,\n      And I'll sneeze if you tickle my nose;\n    I'll up and I'll cry if you tickle my eye--\n      But I'll squeal if you tickle my toes!\n\n    Oh, grin with your chinnery in,\n      And sneeze with your nosery oze,\n    And cry with your wipery eye,\n      But please don't tickle my toes!\n\n    I'll grin and I'll sneeze, I'll cry and I'll squeal,\n      And scare you with _ouches!_ and _ohs!_\n    You may tickle my head, you may tickle my heel,\n      But please don't tickle my toes!\n\n    Oh, grin with your innery chin,\n      And sneeze with your ozery nose,\n    And cry with your wipery eye,\n      But please don't tickle my toes!\n\n    I'll grin, _tee-hee!_ and I'll cry, _boo-hoo!_\n      And I'll sneeze, _icky chow! icky-chose!_\n    And I'll squeal just as loud, _Oh, Lullymaloo!_\n      Whenever you tickle my toes!\n\nBuster John, Sweetest Susan, and Drusilla laughed so heartily at this\nthat Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes didn't wait to repeat the\nchorus of the song, but ran away, pretending to be very much\nfrightened. This made the children laugh still more, and for the first\ntime they felt thoroughly at home in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer\ncountry.\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nHOW BROTHER BEAR'S HAIR WAS COMBED.\n\n\nWhile Buster John, Sweetest Susan, and Drusilla were watching Chickamy\nCrany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes run away, and laughing at them, suddenly\nthe sky in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer country grew brighter. The dark\nshadow of the buttermilk-jug had disappeared, and there were wavering\nlines of white light flashing across, as though the sun were trying to\nshine through. Along with these flashing lines there were wavering\nlines of shadow that rippled and danced about curiously. There seemed\nto be some tremendous commotion going on. If some person with the\nlearning and wisdom of an astronomer had seen this wonderful display,\nhe would have been overcome with awe and fear. He would have concluded\nthat the sky was about to go to pieces, and ten to one he would have\nleft his unreflecting telescope swinging in the air, and crawled under\nthe bed.\n\nBut there was no astronomer in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer country, and\nthe children had seen too many strange sights to be very much alarmed.\nBesides, Drusilla solved the mystery before they had time to gather\ntheir fears together.\n\n\"Shuh!\" she exclaimed; \"'t ain't nothin' 't all. When dey tuck de jug\noutin' de spring de water 'bleedge to be shuck up.\"\n\nAnd it was true. The rippling and wavering in the sky of Mr.\nThimblefinger's queer country were caused by lifting the\nbuttermilk-jug from the spring. As soon as the commotion ceased, it\nwas seen that across the sky, from horizon to horizon, dark lines and\nshadows extended. They were irregular, and branched out here and there\nin every direction. Drusilla gazed at them for some moments without\nventuring to explain them. Suddenly a shadow that seemed to have life\nand motion made its appearance, and darted about among the dark lines.\nDrusilla laughed.\n\n\"La! Hit's dat dead lim' ober de spring, an' dere's a jay-bird hoppin'\nabout in it right now. Ain't I done heah yo' pa say dat lim' 'll\nhafter be cut off 'fo' it fall an' break somebody's head?\"\n\n\"Well, well! She ain't so bad off up here as I thought she was,\" said\nMr. Thimblefinger, tapping his forehead significantly.\n\n\"Ain't I done tell you dat dey's mo' in my head dan what you kin comb\nout?\" exclaimed Drusilla indignantly.\n\n\"Speaking of combing and things of that sort,\" remarked Mr. Rabbit,\nturning to Mrs. Meadows, \"did I ever tell you how Brother Bear learned\nto comb his hair?\"\n\nMrs. Meadows reflected a moment, or pretended to reflect. \"Now, I'm\nnot right certain about that. Maybe you have and maybe you haven't; I\ndon't remember. How did you teach Brother Bear to keep his hair\nroached and parted? Mostly when I used to know him, he went about\nlooking mighty ragged and shabby.\"\n\nMr. Rabbit chuckled for several moments and then said: \"Well, in my\ncourting-days, you know, I used to go around fixed up in style. Many\nand many a time I've heard the girls whisper to one another and say,\n'Oh, my! Ain't Mr. Rabbit looking spruce to-day?' There was one season\nin particular that I was careful to primp up and look sassy. I put\nbergamot oil on my hair, and kept it brushed so slick that a fly\nwould slip up and cripple himself if he lit on it.\n\n\"It so happened that my road took me by Brother Bear's house every\nday--right by the front gate. Sometimes Mrs. Bear would be hanging out\nclothes on the fence, sometimes she would be sweeping off the front\nporch, and sometimes she would be working in the garden; but no matter\nwhat she was doing I'd cough and catch her eye, and then I'd bow just\nas polite as you please.\"\n\n\"What were you doing all that for?\" asked Buster John.\n\n\"Well, I'll tell you,\" Mr. Rabbit replied. \"I had a grudge against\nBrother Bear, and I wanted to work a little scheme. Along at first I\njust went on by the back of Brother Bear's house, and around through\nthe woods home, but in a few days I'd pass by the house and then get\nover the fence and creep back to hear what Mrs. Bear had to say. One\nmorning I heard her talking. She was out in the yard fixing to do her\nweek's washing while Brother Bear was in the house dozing. I could\nhear what Mrs. Bear said, but I was too far off to hear what answer\nBrother Bear made.\n\n[Illustration: MRS. BEAR HANGING OUT CLOTHES]\n\n\"Mrs. Bear says, says she: 'Honey, you ain't asleep, are you?\nBrother Rabbit has just gone along by the gate dressed to kill.' A\ngrumbling sound came from the house. Mrs. Bear says, says she, 'I\nwonder where he goes every day, with his hair combed so slick?'\nGrumble in the house. 'You'd better wish you looked half as nice,'\nsays Mrs. Bear. Grumble in the house. 'Well, I don't care if he is a\ngrand rascal, he looks nice and clean, and that's more than anybody\ncan say about you,' says Mrs. Bear. Growl in the house. Mrs. Bear\nsays, says she, 'Oh, you can rip and rear, but Brother Rabbit goes\nabout with his head combed, and he looks lots better that way than\nthem that go about with rat nests in their hair--lots better.'\"\n\nHere Brother Rabbit chuckled again. \"I thought to myself, thinks I,\nthat I'd better be getting on toward home, and so I crept back up the\nfence and went on my way.\n\n\"The next day as I was going along the road, who should I meet but old\nBrother Bear himself. Well, here's a row, thinks I, but it didn't turn\nout so. Brother Bear was just as polite to me as I had been to his old\nwoman.\n\n\"We passed the time of day and talked about the crops a little while,\nbut I could see that Brother Bear had something serious on his mind.\nFinally, he shuffled around and sat down on a stump beside the\nroadside.\n\n\"'Brother Rabbit,' he says, says he, 'how in the world do you manage\nto keep your hair so slick and smooth all the time? My old woman sees\nyou passing by every day, and she's been worrying the life out of me\nbecause I don't keep my hair combed that way. So I said to myself I'd\nask you the very next time I met you.'\n\n\"Brother Bear was looking pretty rough and tough, and so I says, says\nI, 'You look as if she had been tousling you about it.'\n\n\"He hung his head at this, and shuffled around and changed his seat.\nSays he: 'No, it's not so bad as all that, but I want to ask you plump\nand plain, if it's a fair question, how you comb your hair so it will\nstay nice?'\n\n\"I looked at him and shook my head. Says I, 'Brother Bear, I don't\ncomb my hair.'\n\n\"He was so much surprised that he opened his mouth, and his tongue\nhung out on one side--a big, red tongue that had known the taste of\ninnocent blood.\"\n\n\"That's the truth!\" exclaimed Mrs. Meadows.\n\nSweetest Susan shuddered.\n\n\"Says he, 'Brother Rabbit, if you don't comb your hair, how in the\nwide world do you keep it so smooth?'\"\n\n\"Says I, 'Easy enough. Every morning my old woman takes the axe and\nchops my head off--'\"\n\n\"Oh!\" cried Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"'Takes the axe and chops off my head,'\" Mr. Rabbit continued, as\nsolemn as a judge, \"'and carries it out in the yard, where she can\nhave light to see and room to work, and then she combs it and combs it\nuntil every kink comes straight and every hair is in its place. Then\nshe brings my head back, puts it where it belongs, and there it\nis--all combed.'\n\n\"Brother Bear seemed to be very much astonished. Says he, 'Doesn't it\nhurt, Brother Rabbit?'\n\n\"Says I, 'Hurt who? I'm no chicken.'\n\n\"Says he, 'Doesn't it bleed?'\n\n\"Says I, 'No more than enough to make my appetite good.'\"\n\nMr. Rabbit paused and looked up at the ripples of light and shade that\nwere chasing each other across the sky in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer\ncountry. Then he looked at the children.\n\n\"The upshot of it was,\" he continued, \"that Brother Bear went home and\ntold Mrs. Bear how I had my head combed every day. Woman-like, she\nwanted to try it at once; so Brother Bear laid his head on a log of\nwood, and Mrs. Bear got the axe and raised it high in the air. Brother\nBear had just time to squall out, 'Cut it off easy, old woman!' when\nthe axe fell on his neck, and there he was!\"\n\n\"Oh, did it kill him?\" cried Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"That's what the neighbors said,\" replied Mr. Rabbit placidly.\n\nSweetest Susan didn't seem to be at all pleased. Seeing this, Mrs.\nMeadows exclaimed:--\n\n\"To think of the poor little pigs Brother Bear killed and ate!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Rabbit, \"and the lambs!\"\n\n\"Worse than that!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. \"Think of the little\nchildren he devoured! Think of it!\"\n\n\"I'm glad he had his head cut off,\" said Buster John heartily.\n\n\"Me too, honey,\" assented Drusilla.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nA SINGING-MATCH.\n\n\nAfter telling how Brother Bear learned to comb his hair, Mr. Rabbit\nclosed his eyes and seemed to be about to fall into a doze, as old\npeople have been known to do. During the pause that followed, Sweetest\nSusan saw what appeared to be a bird of peculiar shape sailing around\nin the sky of Mr. Thimblefinger's queer country.\n\nIt was long of body and seemed to have no wings, and yet it sailed\nabout overhead as majestically and easily as an eagle could have done.\n\n\"What sort of a bird is it?\" inquired Sweetest Susan, pointing out the\nobject to Mrs. Meadows.\n\n\"Now, really, I don't know,\" was the reply. \"They are so high in the\nsky and I've seen them so often that I've never bothered my head about\nthem.\"\n\nMr. Thimblefinger climbed on the back of a chair, so as to get a\nbetter view of the curious bird, but he shook his head and climbed\nnimbly down again. The queer bird was too much for Mr. Thimblefinger.\nMr. Rabbit opened his eyes lazily and looked at it.\n\n\"If I'm not much mistaken--\" he started to say, but Drusilla broke in\nwithout any ceremony:--\n\n\"'T ain't nothin' 't all, but one er dem ar meller bugs what swims\nroun' in de spring.\"\n\n\"Why, I expect it _is_ a mellow bug,\" said Mrs. Meadows, laughing. \"I\nused to catch them when I was a girl and put them in my handkerchief.\nThey smell just like a ripe apple.\"\n\n\"I thought it was a buzzard,\" said Buster John.\n\n\"No,\" remarked Mr. Rabbit, \"I used to be well acquainted with Brother\nBuzzard, and when he's in the air he's longer from side to side than\nhe is from end to end. I don't know when I've thought of Brother\nBuzzard before. I never liked him much, but I used to see him sailing\naround on sunshiny days, or sitting in the top of a dead pine drying\nhis wings after a heavy rain. He cut a very funny figure sitting up\nthere, with his wings spread out and drooping like a sick chicken.\n\n[Illustration: LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER]\n\n\"I remember the time, too, when he had a singing-match with Brother\nCrow, and I nearly laughed myself to death over it.\"\n\n\"Oh, tell us about it,\" cried Buster John.\n\n\"There's nothing in it when it is told,\" replied Mr. Rabbit. \"There\nare some things that are funny when you see them, but not funny at all\nwhen you come to tell about them.\"\n\n\"We don't mind that,\" said Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"I don't know exactly how it came about,\" resumed Mr. Rabbit, after a\npause, \"but as near as I can remember, Brother Buzzard and Brother\nCrow met with each other early one morning in a big pine-tree. They\nhowdied, but there was a sort of coolness between them on account of\nthe fact that Brother Buzzard had been going about the neighborhood\nmaking his brags and his boasts that he could outfly Brother Crow.\nThey hadn't been up in the tree very long before they began to\ndispute. Brother Buzzard was not a very loud talker in those days,\nwhatever he may be now, but Brother Crow could squall louder than a\nwoman who has been married twenty-two years. And so there they had it,\nquarreling and disputing and disturbing the peace.\"\n\n\"What were they quarreling about?\" Buster John inquired.\n\n\"Well,\" replied Mr. Rabbit, \"you know the road that leads to Brag is\nthe shortest route to Bluster. Brother Buzzard and Brother Crow were\nquarreling because they had been bragging, and a little more and\nthey'd have had a regular pitched battle then and there.\n\n\"'Maybe you can outfly me, Brother Buzzard,' says Mr. Crow, 'but I'll\nbe bound you can't outsing me.'\n\n\"'I have never tried,' says Brother Buzzard, says he.\n\n\"'Well, suppose you try it now,' says Brother Crow. 'I'll go you a\nfine suit of clothes, and a cocked hat to boot, that I can sit here\nand sing longer than you can,' says he.\n\n\"'Oh, ho!' says Brother Buzzard, 'you may sing louder, but you can't\nsing longer than I can,' says he.\n\n\"'Is it a go?' says Brother Crow.\n\n\"'It's a go,' says Brother Buzzard, says he.\n\n\"'It's no fair bet,' says Brother Crow, 'because you are a bigger man\nthan I am, and it stands to reason that you have got more wind in\nyour craw than I have, but I shall give you one trial if I split my\ngizzard,' says he.\n\n\"Yes,\" remarked Mr. Rabbit, scratching his head thoughtfully, \"those\nwere the very words he used--'if I split my gizzard,' says he. Well,\nthey shook hands to ratify the bet, and then Brother Crow, without\nmaking any flourishes, raised the tune,--\n\n    \"'Oh, Susy, my Susy, gangloo!\n    Oh, Milly, my Molly, langloo!'\n\n\"Then Brother Buzzard flung his head back and chimed in,--\n\n    \"'Oh, Susy, my Susy, gangloo!\n    Oh, Milly, my Molly, langloo!'\n\nand such another racket as they made I never heard before, and have\nnever heard since.\"\n\n\"Why, what kind of a song was it?\" inquired Sweetest Susan. \"I'm sure\nI never heard such a song.\"\n\n\"Well,\" replied Mr. Rabbit, \"you are young and I am old, but you know\njust as much about that song as I do, and maybe more than I do, for\nyou haven't been pestered with it as long as I have. It is a worse\nriddle to me than it was the day I heard it.\"\n\n\"What did they do then?\" asked Buster John.\n\n\"Well,\" Mr. Rabbit replied, \"they sat there and sang just as I told\nyou. Brother Buzzard would stop to catch his breath and then break\nout,--\n\n    \"'Oh, Susy, my Susy, gangloo!\n    Oh, Milly, my Molly, langloo!'\n\nand then Brother Crow would squall out,--\n\n    \"'Oh, Susy, my Susy, gangloo!\n    Oh, Milly, my Molly, langloo!'\n\n\"They sang on until they began to get hungry, and as Brother Buzzard\nseemed to be the biggest and fattest of the two, everybody thought he\nwould hold out the longest. But Brother Crow was plucky, and he sang\nright along in spite of the emptiness in his craw. He didn't squall as\nloud as he did at first, but every time Brother Buzzard sang, Brother\nCrow would sing, too. By and by, they both began to get very weak.\n\n\"At last, as luck would have it, Brother Crow saw his wife flying\nover, and he sang out as loud as he could:--\n\n[Illustration: THE SINGING MATCH]\n\n\"'Oh, Susy!--Go tell my children--my Susy,--to bring my\ndinner--gangloo!--and tell them--oh, Milly, my Molly,--to bring it\nquickly--langloo!'\n\n\"It wasn't very long after that before all Brother Crow's family\nconnections came flying to help him, and as soon as they found out how\nmatters stood they brought him more victuals than he knew what to do\nwith. Brother Buzzard held out as long as he could, but he was obliged\nto give up, and since that time there has been mighty little singing\nin the Buzzard family.\n\n\"But that isn't all,\" remarked Mr. Rabbit, as solemnly as if he were\npointing a moral. \"Since that time Brother Crow, who was dressed in\nwhite, has been wearing the black suit that he won from Brother\nBuzzard.\"\n\n\"Speaking of singing birds,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, turning to Mrs.\nMeadows, \"what is that song I used to hear you humming about a little\nbird?\"\n\n\"Oh, it's just a nonsense song,\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"It has no\nbeginning and no ending.\"\n\nBut the children said they wanted to hear it, anyhow, and so Mrs.\nMeadows sang about--\n\n\nTHE LITTLE BIRD.\n\n    There was once a little Bird so full of Song\n    That he sang in the Rose-Bush the whole Night long.\n\n    And \"Oh,\" said the Redbird to the Jay,\n    \"Don't you wish you could sit and sing that way?\"\n    \"Mercy, no!\" said the Jay; \"for he sings too late;\n    I sing well enough for to please my Mate.\"\n\n    There was once a little Bird so full of Song\n    That he sang in the Rose-Bush the whole Night long.\n\n    Then \"Oh,\" said the Redbird to the Crow,\n    \"Don't you wish you could sit and sing just so?\"\n    \"Do hush,\" said the Crow, \"or I'll start for to weep,\n    Be--caw--caw--cause he's a-losing of his sleep.\"\n\n    There was once a little Bird so full of Song\n    That he sang in the Rose-Bush the whole Night long.\n\n    And \"Oh,\" said the Redbird to the Wren,\n    \"Don't you wish you could sing so now and then?\"\n    \"Not me,\" said the Wren as she shook her Head;\n    \"I think his Mamma ought to put him to Bed.\"\n\n    But the Singing Bird was so full of Glee\n    That he sang all night in the Rose-Bush Tree.\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nTHE STRAWBERRY-GIRL.\n\n\n\"Isn't it almost time for us to start home?\" said Sweetest Susan,\nturning to Mr. Thimblefinger.\n\n\"Why, you've got all the afternoon before you,\" replied Mr.\nThimblefinger. \"Besides it will be downhill all the way. I was just\ngoing to tell you a story, but if you really want to go I'll put off\nthe telling of it until some of your grandchildren tumble in the\nspring when the wet water has run out and the dry water has taken its\nplace.\"\n\n\"Tell the story, please,\" said Buster John.\n\n\"It's about a girl,\" remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. \"She was called the\nStrawberry-Girl. My mother knew the girl well, and I've heard her tell\nthe story many a time. But if you want to go home--\"\n\n\"Oh, please tell the story,\" cried Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"Well,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger; \"once there was an old woman who\nlived in the woods. She lived all alone, and people said she was a\nwitch. She was so old that the skin on her forehead had deep wrinkles\nin it, and these wrinkles caused everybody to think that the old woman\nwas frowning all the time. People called her Granny Grim-Eye.\n\n\"Whenever Granny Grim-Eye got hungry she went to a strawberry-patch in\nthe field near where she lived, and gathered a basket of strawberries.\nOne day when she went after strawberries she found a beautiful little\ngirl asleep in the patch.\n\n\"'Hity-tity!' said Granny Grim-Eye, 'what are you doing here? Where\ndid you come from, and where are you going?'\n\n\"The little girl awoke and stared at Granny Grim-Eye. She was tied to\na blackberry-bush by a silver chain so fine that the links of it could\nhardly be seen with the naked eye. 'Who are you?' asked Granny\nGrim-Eye.\n\n\"'Nothing nor nobody,' replied the little girl, and that was all the\nanswer Granny Grim-Eye could get from the child.\n\n[Illustration: GRANNY GRIM-EYE FINDS A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL ASLEEP]\n\n\"'Well,' said Granny Grim-Eye, 'this is my strawberry-patch, and\neverything I find in it belongs to me. I'll take you home and see what\nI can make out of you.'\n\n\"So she took the girl home and cared for her, giving her the name of\nthe Strawberry-Girl. In the course of time the Strawberry-Girl grew to\nbe the most beautiful young woman in the country, but her mind was not\nbright. In fact, I have heard my mother say that the Strawberry-Girl\nwas as stupid and as silly as she could be, but she was so beautiful\nthat people were inclined to forgive her for being stupid.\n\n\"Granny Grim-Eye used to send her with strawberries to sell to the\nrich man who owned nearly all the land in that part of the country.\nNow, this rich man fell in love with the Strawberry-Girl, but when he\nfound that she was both stupid and silly he gave up all thought of\nmarrying her. He was very fond of her, nevertheless, and bought all\nthe berries she had for sale. But when she began to talk he would turn\naway with a sigh, for everything she said was stupid.\n\n\"It so happened one day that Granny Grim-Eye was too sick to pick the\nstrawberries herself, as she always had done, and she was afraid to\ntrust the Strawberry-Girl to pick them. But the rich man sent word\nthat he was to have a company of friends to dinner and he must have\nsome strawberries. There was nothing for Granny Grim-Eye to do but to\nsend the Strawberry-Girl to the patch. Granny Grim-Eye called her up\nand cautioned her not to pick anything but good, ripe strawberries,\nand then sent her off to the patch.\n\n\"But on the way the Strawberry-Girl saw some red berries growing on\nbushes, and these she picked and put in the basket until it was full.\n'These are just as red as ripe strawberries,' she said, 'and they will\ndo just as well. Besides, they are a great deal easier to pick.'\n\n\"The way to the rich man's house led through a very thick wood, and\nwhile the Strawberry-Girl was going through this wood a little old man\nstepped from a hollow tree and stood in the path before her.\n\n\"'Aha!' says he, 'I find you alone at last. Where are you going, and\nwhat have you got?'\n\n[Illustration: THE LITTLE OLD MAN DISCOVERS THE STRAWBERRY-GIRL]\n\n\"'I am carrying some strawberries to your master,' says the\nStrawberry-Girl, who imagined that the rich man was everybody's\nmaster.\n\n\"'My master!' cries the little old man; 'my master! But if he were my\nmaster, and I wanted to get rid of him, I'd not get in your path, for\nevery berry in your basket is rank poison.'\n\n\"'Well, anyhow, they are red,' says the stupid Strawberry-Girl.\n\n\"'So they are,' says the little old man. 'But if you want to kill your\nmaster carry them to him.'\n\n\"'Oh, I don't want to kill him,' says the Strawberry-Girl. 'He pays\ntoo well.'\n\n\"'Once you belonged to me,' says the little old man. 'I tied you to a\nblackberry-bush with a fine silver chain, and left you there until I\ncould attend to some business in the city. When I came back you were\ngone. I hunted for you high and low only to hear that you had been\nfound by Granny Grim-Eye. What is the result? You have grown up\nbeautiful and stupid. After all these years you don't know a\nstrawberry from a dragon's-apple. If you had remained with me you\nwould have grown to be the most beautiful as well as the wittiest\nwoman in the world. You would have known everything that is hidden in\nnature--everything that has been stored between the lids of all the\nbooks. It is a great pity!'\n\n\"'Yes,' says the stupid Strawberry-Girl, 'I expect it is; but what\nmust I do with these berries? I haven't time to pick more.'\n\n\"'Well,' says the little old man, 'I'll make a bargain with you. I'll\nfill your basket with the finest berries that were ever seen, and I'll\nmake you the wittiest woman in the world if at the end of one year you\nwill marry me.'\n\n\"The stupid Strawberry-Girl gave her promise, and then the little old\nman touched her on the forehead with his left thumb, pointed at a\nbright star with his right forefinger, and then went back to his\nhollow tree, warning the girl not to forget her promise.\n\n\"When she looked in the basket the red dragon's-apples had\ndisappeared, and in their place she saw the finest strawberries that\nhad ever been grown. These she carried to the rich man, who was as\nmuch surprised at the size and lusciousness of the berries as his\nguests were at the extraordinary beauty of the young girl. They\npraised her beauty to their host, who shook his head and said that\nbeauty ceased to be beautiful when it was tied to stupidity. The\nguests, however, would not believe that so beautiful a creature could\nbe stupid, and to satisfy them the rich man sent for the girl and\nengaged her in conversation. Her replies were so wise, so apt, and so\nwitty, as to astound all the company, while the rich man was\ndumfounded with astonishment.\n\n\"After that, when the Strawberry-Girl came with berries for sale, the\nrich man always sent for her, and her wit and intelligence were so\npleasing to him that he finally asked her to be his wife. But she\nremembered the bargain she had made with the little old man who had\nmet her in the wood, and she told the rich man that she would have to\ntake time to consider his proposal.\n\n\"She was very much worried. She fretted until she began to lose some\nof her beauty, and when Granny Grim-Eye saw this she began to ask\nquestions, and it was not long before she found out all about the\nbargain the Strawberry-Girl had made with the little Old Man of the\nWood.\n\n\"'Oho!' she cried. 'He is up to his old tricks, is he? Well, we shall\nsee!'\n\n\"So she went to her chest and got the silver chain with which the\nStrawberry-Girl had been fastened to the blackberry-bush, and wrapped\nand twined it in the shape of a star. This star she fixed on the\nStrawberry-Girl's forehead by means of a velvet band, and told her to\nwear it constantly.\n\n\"It happened that on the very day the year expired the Strawberry-Girl\nwas walking through the wood. The little old man jumped from his\nhollow tree and ran forward to claim his bride. But when he saw the\nstar shining on her forehead he gave a loud cry, threw his hands\nbefore his eyes, and turned and fled through the wood faster than any\ndeer could have done. Nobody ever saw him again, and the\nStrawberry-Girl married the rich man and lived happily for many long\nyears.\"\n\n\"I think that is a nice story,\" said Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"I'm glad you do,\" remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. \"My mother knew all the\nfacts in the case, and I've heard her tell it many a time. I may have\nleft out some of the happenings, but these and many others you can\nsupply for yourself.\"\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nTHE WITCH OF THE WELL.\n\n\nWhile Mr. Thimblefinger was telling the story of the Strawberry-Girl,\nChickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes had drawn near to listen.\nChickamy Crany Crow stood near Mrs. Meadows, and seemed to be very\nmuch interested. When Mr. Thimblefinger had concluded, she would have\ngone away, but Mrs. Meadows detained her.\n\n\"No,\" said Mrs. Meadows, as Chickamy Crany Crow tried to pull her hand\naway; \"you must stay right here and tell the children the story of the\nWitch of the Well.\"\n\n\"They know it already,\" said Chickamy Crany Crow, trying to hide\nbehind Mrs. Meadows's chair.\n\n\"No, we don't,\" exclaimed Buster John. \"We know the old rhyme about\n\n    \"'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow,\n    Went to the well to wash her toe,\n    And when she came back her chicken was gone.'\n\nThat's the rhyme we say in the game, but we never heard the story.\"\n\n\"I can't tell it to so many,\" said Chickamy Crany Crow.\n\n\"Well, tell it to me, then,\" replied Mrs. Meadows coaxingly. \"The rest\nwon't listen any more than they can help.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Chickamy Crany Crow, \"one time there was an old woman\nthat lived near a well. For a long time nobody thought she was a\nwitch, but after a while people began to have their suspicions. There\nwas a quagmire in the road right in front of the old woman's house,\nand every traveler passing that way was sure to get mud on his feet.\nNo matter whether he was riding horseback or in a buggy, it was all\nthe same. He was sure to get his feet muddy. And the mud was so black,\nand thick, and heavy, that he was anxious to get it off as soon as\npossible.\n\n\"It happened, too, that every time a traveler crossed the quagmire,\nafter getting the black, heavy mud on his feet, the old woman would be\nsitting in her door smoking a cob pipe.\n\n\"'Howdy, dearie!' she would say. 'Why, you're full of nasty mud! Go\nto the well yonder, dearie, and wash it off.'\n\n\"The traveler would leave his buggy and horse, or his horse and\nsaddle, or his bundle at the old witch's door, and go to the well to\nwash his feet. When he came back everything would be gone,--witch,\nhorse, buggy, saddle, or bundle. The quagmire would be dried up, and\nthe road itself would seem to be a different road. Sometimes it would\nbe days and days before the traveler could find his way to the place\nwhere he started.\n\n\"One day a traveler came along the road in a fine carriage. With him\nhe had a beautiful little girl with long golden hair. She had eyes as\nblue and as clear as the water in the spring when the sunshine slants\nthrough, and her skin was as white as milk. When the carriage had\ncrossed the quagmire, the traveler found that his feet were covered\nwith the black, heavy mud. He couldn't imagine how it had happened.\nThere was no hole in the bottom of the carriage, the door was shut\ntight, and there was no way for the mud to get in. He said to the\nlittle girl:--\n\n\"'Daughter, are your feet muddy?'\n\n\"'Not a bit, father.'\n\n\"When the carriage crossed the quagmire, there sat the old woman in\nthe door.\n\n\"'Howdy, dearie!' says she. 'And how did you get the nasty mud on your\nfeet? Yonder is a well; leave your carriage here and go wash it off.'\n\n\"So the traveler kissed his daughter, for he was very fond of her, and\nwent to the well to wash his feet. When he came back, daughter,\ncarriage, and old woman had all disappeared. He wandered around like a\ncrazy man for many days, and at last came to where my mother lived and\ntold his story. This wasn't the first time she had heard such a tale,\nand she concluded to see what the matter was. So she called me and\ngave me a black chicken and told me to go by the old woman's house and\nsee what happened.\n\n\"I took the chicken, which was tied by the legs, and went along the\nroad until I came to the quagmire. I tried to pick my way around it,\nbut the black mud bubbled up and flew at my feet, and finally it\nbecame so thick and heavy I could scarcely walk. When I got across,\nthere sat the old woman smoking her cob pipe and grinning.\n\n\"'Howdy, dearie!' says she.\n\n\"'Howdy, granny!' says I.\n\n\"'Leave your fat chicken here,' says she, 'and go to yonder well and\nwash your toe.'\n\n\"'Thanky, granny; that I will,' says I.\n\n\"So I went to the well, but when I came back my chicken was gone. And\nso was the old woman, and the quagmire. But I didn't get frightened. I\nwent back to the well and began to sing,--\n\n    \"'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow,\n    I went to the well to wash my toe,\n    But when I came back my chicken was gone--\n          What o'clock, old witch?'\n\n\"I hadn't been there long before the mud began to bubble up again, and\nout of it came the old witch. And then what seemed to be a thick mist\ncleared away, and there was the old witch's house, and inside I could\nsee the beautiful little girl crying for her father. I intended to run\nhome and tell what I had seen, but before I could move out of my\ntracks I heard the old woman coming to the well. In coming up out of\nthe quagmire she had got mud on her feet. She had pulled off her shoes\nfor comfort, and had been going about in her stocking-feet, and of\ncourse when she disappeared in the quagmire, and came up through it\nagain, her stockings were full of mud; and so she came to the well to\nwash them.\n\n\"I didn't know whether to run or stay, but I stayed, and as soon as\nthe old woman got in sight, I sat on the ground and began to rock my\nbody backwards and forwards, crying,--\n\n    \"'Oh, mercy me! Oh, what shall I do?\n    I can't get the black mud off of my shoe!'\n\n\"The old woman seemed to be very angry when she first saw me, but I\npretended to pay no attention to her. I just rocked backwards and\nforwards, and cried that I couldn't get the black mud off of my shoe.\nThe old woman sat down and pulled off her stockings, and began to wash\nthem. When she had finished one, she threw it behind her on the grass\nto dry. Being wet and heavy it fell farther from her hand than she\nintended. It fell close to me, and I picked it up and stuffed it in my\npocket.\"\n\n\"What for?\" asked Buster John bluntly.\n\n\"Well, I hardly know,\" replied Chickamy Crany Crow, somewhat\nembarrassed at the suddenness of the question. \"I wanted to get even\nwith her for stealing my fat chicken. I hardly knew what I was doing,\nand I certainly didn't know how it would turn out. Well, I stuffed the\nold woman's wet stocking in my pocket, and kept on crying out that I\ndidn't know how to get the black mud off of my shoe.\n\n\"'Do as I do,' said the old woman. Then I went and sat on the grass in\nfront of her, and washed the mud from my shoe.\n\n\"For the first time I saw what a horrible-looking creature the old\nwoman was. Her eyes were sunk in her head, her nose was hooked over\nher mouth, and she had two long upper teeth that hung lower than her\nunder lip. I says to myself, 'Well, old lady, if you are not a witch,\nthere never was one.' She washed her stocking, mumbling and chewing,\nand when she had finished she threw it behind her, and sat hugging her\nknees, and glaring at me in a way that made my flesh crawl.\n\n\"'What is your name?' says she.\n\n\"'Chickamy Crany Crow,' says I.\n\n\"'What are you doing here?' says she.\n\n\"Says I, 'I went to the well to wash my toe, but when I came back my\nchicken was gone.'\n\n\"Then the old woman began to laugh like a cackling hen, and she\nlaughed so loud and laughed so long that it scared me. I got up and\npretended to be going home, but when I had gone a little way I hid\nbehind a big tree, and watched the old woman's antics. She kept on\nlaughing for some time, and then she reached out for her stockings.\nShe found the only one she had left, and put it on. Then she reached\naround for the other, but failed to find it, because I had it in my\npocket. This seemed to puzzle her. She stood up and looked all around\nfor her missing stocking, but it wasn't there. Then she sat down\nagain, pulled off the stocking she had on, and put it on the other\nfoot.\n\n\"But she still lacked a stocking. This seemed to puzzle the old witch\nworse than ever. Once more she pulled off the stocking and put it on\nthe other foot, and appeared to be very much astonished because one\nfoot was still bare.\"\n\n\"She couldn't 'a' had much sense!\" exclaimed Drusilla.\n\n\"Not about stockings and things like that,\" said Chickamy Crany Crow.\n\"Well, she sat there, pulling the stocking from one foot and putting\nit on the other, until she seemed to forget about everything else. I\nwatched her until I got tired, and then I thought I would take her\nmissing stocking and throw it in the quagmire.\n\n\"The moment I did this, the quagmire began to bubble, and hiss, and\nroll, and toss and tumble about, and soon it disappeared altogether. A\nlittle fog arose when the quagmire sank out of sight, and when this\ncleared away, there stood the carriage that had brought the beautiful\nlittle girl with the golden hair, and the little girl herself was\nsitting in it, ready to go to her father. But this wasn't all. All\naround, there were numbers of horses and buggies, and all sorts of\nbundles and money-purses, and everything that travelers carry along\nwith them.\n\n\"Well, I got in the carriage with the beautiful little girl, clucked\nto the horses, and drove to my mother's house. All the horses with\nsaddles, and all the horses hitched to buggies, followed along after\nus, and there was great rejoicing among the people as we went by.\"\n\n\"What became of the old witch?\" asked Buster John.\n\n\"She stayed there, trying to make one stocking do for two feet, until\nthe well dried up, and after that I don't know what became of her.\"\n\n\"You ought to have been a young man,\" said Sweetest Susan, who had\nbeen reading fairy stories, \"so that you could have married the\nbeautiful girl with golden hair, after rescuing her. Besides, your\nname would have been in the books.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" answered Chickamy Crany Crow, smiling for the first time, \"there\nare plenty of names in the books that you never hear of; but now,\nwherever little children get together to play games, you will hear\nthem saying the rhyme that tells a part of my story,--\n\n    \"'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow,\n    Went to the well to wash her toe,\n    But when she got back her chicken was gone.'\"\n\n[Illustration: THE GOLDEN-HAIRED, BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL]\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nTHE BEWITCHED HUNTSMAN.\n\n\n\"There used to be a great many more witches than there are now,\"\nremarked Mr. Thimblefinger. \"I reckon it's because folks have more\nbusiness of their own to attend to; or, it may be a change in the\nclimate. I hear old people say that the winters are colder now than\nthey used to be, and the summers hotter. Maybe that has something to\ndo with it. Anyhow, something has happened to thin the witches out.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Rabbit; \"I've noticed that they are scarcer than they\nused to be, but I never inquired into the whys and wherefores. They\nnever bothered me, and I never bothered them.\"\n\n\"Well, when I first came here,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, \"I noticed\nJimmy Jay-Bird bringing sand and mortar every Friday, and it occurred\nto me that he was preparing to lay the foundations of a witch's house\nin this country. So I says to myself, says I, 'I'll keep an eye on\nJimmy, and see where he gets in and out; for, surely, he doesn't come\nby way of the spring.' But Jimmy Jay-Bird was pretty slick, and it was\nsome time before I found out where he came down and went out. By some\nmeans or other, he had discovered the big hollow poplar on the spring\nbranch, and he was coming and going that way.\"\n\n\"I know where it is,\" said Buster John.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Mr. Thimblefinger. \"It is the oldest and the biggest\ntree in the whole country next door. But as soon as I found that Jimmy\nJay-Bird was using it as a passageway, I drove a peg in the hole and\nput an end to his schemes, whatever they may have been. I don't know\nwhere he carries his sand and mortar now, and I don't care.\n\n\"But I didn't start out to tell anything about Jimmy Jay-Bird,\"\ncontinued Mr. Thimblefinger, after pausing a moment. \"I was thinking\nabout the way a witch was caught by a boy no bigger and not much older\nthan our young friend here.\"\n\n\"Tell us about it, please!\" cried Buster John enthusiastically.\n\n\"Well,\" said Mr. Thimblefinger, \"it's not much of a story. You can't\ntake a handful of facts and make a story of them unless you know how\nto fling them together. The best I can do is to tell it just as it\nhappened as near as I can remember.\n\n\"When I was a little bit of a fellow--now don't laugh!\" cried Mr.\nThimblefinger, seeing Mr. Rabbit wink at Mrs. Meadows,--\"I mean when I\nwas in my teens. Well, when I was younger than I am now, an old witch\nlived not far from our house. Her eyes were red around the rims, and\nher eyeballs looked as if they had been boiled. Everybody called her\nPeggy Pig-Eye, and she answered to that name about as well as she did\nto any other. Near her house there lived a man who had a wife and a\nson. He was a tolerably well-to-do man, and all the neighbors thought\nvery well of him. But he used to go to town every sale-day, and at\nnight he would come home feeling very gay. I don't know what there was\nin town to make him feel so gay, but I know that he used to come by\nour house singing at the top of his voice and cutting up all sorts of\nshines.\n\n\"Well, one night when he was going back home whooping and yelling, he\nsaw something dark in the road before him, and he rode his horse at\nit full tilt. The horse seemed to have little taste for such sport,\nfor he snorted and wanted to shy around the dark object. But the man\nclapped spurs to the horse and drove him right at it. The black thing\nran, and the man spurred his horse after it. It ran down the road,\nthen across an old field and back into the road again, the man\npursuing it as hard as he could make his horse go. Finally it ran into\nPeggy Pig-Eye's yard and under her house, and the man went clattering\nafter it. Just as he pulled his horse up (to keep the animal from\nrunning broadside into the house) the door opened, and Peggy Pig-Eye\nput her head out.\n\n\"'Oh, it's you, is it?' she cried. 'And you are after me, are you?\nVery well!' With that she clapped the door to, and the man rode on\nhome, not feeling as lively as he had felt.\n\n\"Now, it happened that this man was a great hunter. He had a pack of\nfine dogs, and he was very fond of them. He hunted deer with them by\nday, and raccoons and 'possums by night. The first time he went\nhunting after riding into Peggy Pig-Eye's yard was at night. He didn't\ngo very far from his house before his dogs struck a warm trail and\nwent scurrying towards the big swamp at a great rate. A negro, who\nwent along to carry the light and cut the tree down, shook his head\nand declared the dogs were not barking to suit him. He said there was\nmore whine than growl to the noise they were making.\n\n\"Anyhow, the dogs went scurrying to the big swamp, and the man and the\nnegro followed as fast as they could. The dogs treed right at the edge\nof the swamp, and when the man and the negro got there, they were\nbarking up a big poplar. The negro held his torch behind him so as to\n'shine' in the raccoon's eyes,--if it was a raccoon,--but he could see\nnothing.\n\n\"'Cut the tree down,' said the man.\n\n\"The negro shook his head, but he whacked away at the poplar with his\naxe, and cut it so that it would fall away from the swamp. The tree\nfell with a tremendous crash, and the dogs rushed into the top limbs,\nfollowed by the man and the negro. But before they could wink their\neyes, something tall and white walked out, and cried:--\n\n\"'_You are always after me!_'\n\n\"The negro threw down the torch and the axe, and ran home as fast as\nhe could. The dogs tried hard to catch the white thing, whatever it\nwas, but as soon as they got near enough to bite it, they tucked their\ntails between their legs and ran howling back to their master.\n\n\"This happened every time the man went out to hunt raccoons and\n'possums. The dogs would strike a warm trail not far from the house,\nrun to the edge of the swamp, and bay up a tree, and then when the\ntree was cut down, something tall and white would walk from the top\nlimbs, and cry out:\n\n\"'_You are always after me!_'\n\n\"The man thought it was very queer, but he wasn't frightened. He said\nto himself that if he couldn't catch raccoons and 'possums, maybe he\ncould catch a fox. So he called up his dogs one morning just about\nday, mounted his horse, and started out to catch a fox. Before they\nhad gone a hundred yards from the house, the dogs found a warm trail\nand began to follow it in lively style. The man spurred his horse\nafter them and harked them on. They ran around in a wide circle, and\npresently something white flitted by the man, with the dogs after it\nin full cry. As it went by it screamed out:--\n\n\"'_You are always after me!_'\n\n\"Then it disappeared, and after a while the dogs came back, panting as\nhard as if they had run forty miles. The man went back home and sat by\nthe fire and studied about it, and the more he studied the worse he\nwas troubled. He sat so long without saying anything that his little\nboy asked him what the matter was, but the man shook his head, and\nsaid there were some things that children ought not to know. The boy\nwas fourteen years old, and very small for his age, but he had plenty\nof sense, and was very brave. He told his mother that his father was\nin some deep trouble, and begged her to find out what it was, and tell\nhim about it.\n\n\"So the little boy's mother set herself to work to find out what was\ntroubling her husband. She pressed him so hard with questions that he\nfinally told her about his strange adventures while out hunting. The\nwife was so frightened that she begged her husband not to go hunting\nany more, but to give up his dogs and attend to business that was not\nso dangerous.\n\n\"The man promised that he would hunt no more raccoons or 'possums or\nfoxes, but he said he needed his dogs to hunt deer. The woman told\nher son all that her husband had said to her, and after that the\nlittle boy made it a habit to go off in the woods and sit at the foot\nof a big chestnut-tree, and wonder what it was that ran before his\nfather's dogs.\n\n\"Matters went on this way until finally one day the man said he would\ngo out and catch a deer. He called his dogs, especially Old Top, the\noldest one of all. Top was a big hound, and hunted nothing else but\ndeer, and he was never known to fail to run down and catch the deer he\ngot after. Old Top went along when he was called, but it was very\nplain to the little boy, who was watching, that he didn't go\nwillingly. Anyhow, Old Top went, though he looked back at the little\nboy and wagged his tail knowingly more than once.\n\n\"Before the hunter got out of hearing, the dogs struck a trail and\npursued it in the direction of the big woods beyond the creek. For a\nlong time the little boy listened to the dogs running. Sometimes they\nseemed to come nearer, and then they would go farther, and finally the\nsound of their trailing died away altogether.\n\n\"After waiting and listening for some time, the little boy went into\nthe woods and sat at the foot of the chestnut-tree. While he was\nsitting there thinking, and watching the big black ants chase each\nother up and down the tree, he heard the bushes shake, and suddenly a\nlittle old man appeared before him.\n\n\"'Heyday!' said the little old man. 'You are too young to be thinking.\nLeave thoughts for old people; you should be at play.'\n\n\"'But sometimes,' replied the little boy, 'children have to think,\ntoo. It doesn't make my head ache to think.'\n\n\"'I see, I see!' exclaimed the little old man; 'your name is Three\nWits. Three Wits, how are you? I hope you are well. You ought to have\ncome here a little sooner. There is a famous hunt going on in these\nwoods. It passed here awhile ago--a fool on a frightened horse and\nseven crazy dogs galloping after Satan's sister. Oh, it is jolly! Stay\nwhere you are, Three Wits. This famous hunt will pass this way again\ndirectly, and you will have a plain view of it.'\n\n\"After a while the little boy heard the dogs coming, and presently he\nsaw the strangest sight his eyes had ever beheld. Going through the\nwoods as swift as the wind, he saw a great white Stag. On the back of\nthe Stag, and holding to its antlers, was an old woman. She was\ngrinning horribly, and her gray hair was streaming out behind her like\na ragged banner. The Stag, bearing the old woman, rushed through the\nwoods and disappeared. Then came the dogs in full cry, and after the\ndogs came the little boy's father, spurring his horse and yelling in\nthe excitement of the chase.\n\n\"'What do you think of it, Three Wits?' asked the little old man,\nlaughing.\n\n\"'I don't like it,' replied the boy. 'That man is my father.'\n\n\"'Your father!' cried the little old man. 'Oho! That alters the case.\nWell, well! Let's see--let's see!'\n\n\"The little old man took from the wallet he had on his back a thick\nbook with a red cover. Then he sat at the foot of the chestnut-tree\nand turned the well-thumbed leaves until he found the place he was\nhunting for. He closed the book, but kept his forefinger between the\nleaves, and took the little boy's hand in his.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE LITTLE OLD MAN, THREE WITS, AND THE STAG]\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\nTHE THREE IVORY BOBBINS.\n\n\n\"The little old man took the boy's hand in his, but before he could\nsay anything, a rustling was heard in the bushes. Presently, Old Top,\nthe deerhound, made his appearance. He went up to the boy, smelt of\nhim, wagged his tail as a sign of satisfaction, and then curled up in\nthe leaves as if to take a nap. But he didn't go to sleep. Every once\nin awhile, Old Top raised his head and listened wistfully to the\nrunning dogs that could be heard in the distance.\n\n\"'A very sensible dog!' exclaimed the little old man. 'He knows\nsomething is wrong.'\n\n\"'What is it?' asked the boy.\n\n\"'Well, Three Wits,' said the little old man, 'I'll tell you. The man,\nthe horse, and the dogs, are under a spell. They are bewitched, and\nthey will continue to be bewitched until doomsday, unless the spell is\nbroken. They will go round and round on the trail until they exhaust\nthemselves, and then they will gradually grow thinner and thinner\nuntil they disappear; and then nothing will be heard but the barking\nof the dogs, and the sound of that will grow fainter and fainter,\nuntil no human ear can hear it. Now, the question is, Three Wits, do\nyou wish the spell broken?'\n\n\"'I do,' replied the boy, 'for my mother's sake.'\n\n\"'Now that is well spoken,' said the old man, rising and laying his\nhand gently on the boy's head. 'For, behold, Three Wits, what is\nwritten in the book.'\n\n\"The old man opened the red volume and read as follows, pointing to\neach word with his finger:--\n\n\"'Whoever shall, for the sake of his mother, earnestly desire to break\nthe spells worked by Paggia Paggiola, the Hunting-Witch, is in a way\nto have his desire fulfilled. For this is the indispensable condition.\nMoreover, he who hopes to succeed must have the innocence of youth and\nthe courage of manhood. On his left arm there should grow a mole, and\nin this mole are three white hairs.'\n\n\"'I have the mole,' said the boy, opening his vest.\n\n\"Sure enough, there was the mole, and on the mole were growing three\nlong white hairs as fine as silk. With a pair of silver tweezers that\nhe found in his wallet, the little old man pulled the long white hairs\nfrom the mole. One by one he pulled them. One by one he ran them\nthrough his fingers, and one by one they seemed to grow longer and\nstronger, each time they were pulled through the little old man's\nswift-moving fingers.\n\n\"Then, searching in his wallet, he found three ivory bobbins; and on\nthese he wound the long, strong, and silken hairs. He wound and wound,\nand as he wound he sang:--\n\n    \"'Now on this bobbin I wind a hair,\n      White, and silken, and long;\n    I wind it slow, I wind it fair,\n      Glossy, and white, and strong.\n\n    \"'I wind it here in shade and sun,\n      For one, one, one are three--\n    Three and no more where the stag shall run,\n      Close by the chestnut-tree.\n\n    \"'And one shall catch, and two shall hold,\n      And three shall clamp and kill;\n    Just say to your hand, Be steady and bold;\n      And say to your heart, I will.'\n\n\"The boy was surprised to see, as the old man sang and wound, that the\nwhite hairs spun out into silver wires hundreds of feet long, and\nstronger than steel.\n\n\"'Take these, Three Wits,' said the old man, after he had finished\nwinding the bobbins. 'Take these, and when the hunt runs this way\nagain, fling one at the Stag, and one at the dogs, and one at the\nhorse the huntsman rides. You must fling them quickly, one after the\nother. It is easy enough to miss the Stag, but you must not fail to\ncatch the dogs. You may fail on the Stag and horse, but you must not\nfail on the dogs. Be strong. Brace yourself for three quick and hard\nthrows.'\n\n\"Then they stood there listening; and presently Old Top, the\ndeerhound, raised his head and whistled through his nose, the whistle\nending in a whine.\n\n\"'They are coming now, Three Wits!' exclaimed the little old man. 'Get\nready! Throw quick and hard! Don't be afraid!'\n\n\"In the distance, the baying of the dogs could be heard, and Old Top\nrose and shook himself and growled. In another moment the Stag, ridden\nby the grinning old woman, flitted past; but, quick as a flash, Three\nWits threw the first bobbin, and he threw it so hard that it made a\nzooning sound in the air. The Stag made one tremendous bound and\ndisappeared. The dogs came next, and Three Wits threw the second\nbobbin. It zooned through the air, and the silver wire unwound with a\ntwanging sound, and fell full upon the panting and baying pack. It\nfell upon them, and wound itself about them, and smothered their\ncries, and held them fast in its glistening meshes.\n\n\"Then came the rushing horse and its furious rider. Three Wits threw\nthe third bobbin, but the horse shied at the motion of the boy's hand,\nand flew through the woods in the direction taken by the Stag. When\nThree Wits saw both the Stag and the horse escape, he fell upon the\nground and began to weep.\n\n\"'Hity-tity!' exclaimed the little old man, coming from behind the\ntree where he had concealed himself. 'What's this? Why, I was about to\ncry \"Bravo!\" and here I find you pretending to be a baby. Get up. If\nI am not mistaken you have accomplished even more than I expected you\nwould. Let's see.'\n\n\"He lifted Three Wits to his feet, and then the two went to where the\nhunt had passed. At one point the dogs were entangled in the silver\nwire, and were unable to free themselves. A little farther in, they\nfound a thick wisp of gray hair which the wire had cut from the head\nof the grinning old woman who rode the Stag. The little old man\nclapped his hands with delight and cut some joyful capers, for he was\nvery nimble.\n\n\"'Good!' he exclaimed. 'Another half inch and you would have cut off\nher head instead of her hair! But where is the bobbin? I don't see the\nbobbin! We must have the bobbin!'\n\n\"Three Wits hunted, but he could find no bobbin. Then he caught hold\nof the wire, and found that it led into the woods the way the Stag had\ngone. He caught hold of it and followed it along, calling to the\nlittle old man. They followed the silver wire far into the woods, and\nfinally they came to the end of it, and there was the Stag, strangled\nand dead. The weight of the bobbin had carried the wire around his\nbody and around his neck, and the bobbin itself had caught in the\nfork of one of his antlers.\n\n[Illustration: THE STAG AND THE WITCH]\n\n\"The little old man seemed to be very happy. He patted Three Wits on\nthe shoulder, and declared that he was a good boy, a fine boy. 'But\nthere is more to be done,' said the little old man,--'a great deal\nmore. And you will have to go alone. I can help you, but I can't be\nwith you.'\n\n\"Then he found the ivory bobbins, rewound the silver wire, which\nseemed to spin out still longer, and gave them to Three Wits. 'Take\nthese,' he said, 'and go to the witch's house.'\n\n\"'Do you mean Peggy Pig-Eye's house?' asked Three Wits.\n\n\"'Why, of course.' replied the little old man. 'Her right name, as you\nsaw by the book, is Paggia Paggiola, but people call her Peggy Pig-Eye\nfor short. Go to her house, throw one of the bobbins over the roof,\nand then throw one around each end. Throw quick and hard, and, as you\nthrow, cry out,--\n\n    \"'Bibbity bobbity bobbin,\n    Go hibbity hob hobnobbin.'\n\n\"'But wait!' cried the little old man. 'You may need these dogs.' He\ntook a wisp of the witch's hair, and whipped them back to life. And\nmaybe you'll need a horse to ride. So he went into the woods where the\nStag lay dead, and whipped him to his feet with the witch's hair.\n\n\"'This is your horse,' he said to Three Wits. But the boy was afraid\nto mount the Stag. 'Be bold!' cried the little old man; 'all depends\non that! Give me your foot. There you are! Loop the silver wire over\nhis horns, and touch him with the bobbin the way you want him to go.\nHe'll carry you safely. Good-by! Be bold!'\n\n\"Following the little old man's directions, Three Wits was soon\ncantering down the road on the Stag's back. The dogs seemed to take\neverything for granted, and followed along after the Stag as readily\nas if he had been their master's horse. But travelers who chanced to\nbe going along the road went into the wood when they saw a boy riding\na big Stag. They were not used to such a queer sight.\n\n\"The spirits of Three Wits rose as he went along. Everything had\nturned out so happily, and the Stag moved along so gracefully and\neasily that Three Wits felt quite like a hero.\n\n\"He went ambling along the road, the people staring at him, until he\ncame to the witch's house. Everything was quiet there. The windows and\ndoors were closed, and the only sign of life about the place was a big\nblack cat that sat on the water-shelf. Three Wits rode the Stag around\nthe house three times. Then over the roof he threw a bobbin. To the\nright he threw another, and to the left another. The silver wire\nseemed to whirl until it became a tangle of wire all over the house.\nThe big black cat made an attempt to escape, but it was caught in the\nwire as a fly is caught in a spider's web, and it hung helpless by the\nwater-shelf.\n\n\"And then a very wonderful thing happened. The silver wire seemed to\nbecome so heavy that the roof of the house couldn't bear its weight.\nThe cabin swayed, and finally the roof fell in with a crash. Out of\nthe dust and wreck walked the father of Three Wits, leading his horse,\nand, following him, came a dozen or more elegantly dressed gentlemen\nwhom Three Wits had never seen before. They shook hands with the boy\nand thanked him for coming to their rescue, and each gave him a large\nsum of gold, so that when they started on their way home, Three Wits\nfound that he was very rich. As for the father, he seized Three Wits\nin his arms and embraced him again and again, and declared that even a\nking might be proud to have such a brave son.\n\n\"While they were talking, the little old man came out of the wood. He\nwent straight to Three Wits, placed his hand on the boy's head, and\nseemed to be blessing him. Then he lifted Three Wits from the Stag's\nback, mounted in his place, waved his hand twice, and, in a twinkling,\nhad disappeared in the wood. That was the end of the witch, and this\nis the end of the story.\"\n\n\"Well, I think it is a very good story,\" said Buster John.\n\n\"I think so, too,\" remarked Sweetest Susan; \"but I'm sorry there was\nno little girl in it.\"\n\n\n\n\nXVII.\n\n\"KEEN-POINT,\" \"COB-HANDLE,\" AND \"BUTCH.\"\n\n\n\"The three bobbins,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"remind me of a\ncircumstance--\"\n\n\"Is a circumstance a story?\" interrupted Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"Oh, you mustn't mind my country talk,\" replied Mrs. Meadows,\nlaughing. \"It was a trick of my tongue. I didn't want to say 'story'\nbecause you might be disappointed. But I reckon I may as well call it\na story. Well, as I was saying, the three bobbins remind me of a story\nthat was partly about a little girl.\"\n\n\"I know it must be a nice story,\" cried Sweetest Susan\nenthusiastically.\n\nBut Mrs. Meadows shook her head. \"From all I can hear,\" she said,\n\"matters and things in general are a great deal nicer in books than\nthey are outside of books. Folks are folks, anyway you can fix them, I\ndon't care what the books say. But I'll not deny that in my day and\ntime I have seen folks mighty near as nice and as pretty as those you\nread about in the books, and one of these was the little girl I am\ngoing to tell you about.\n\n\"Once upon a time, in the country where I then lived,--and I've lived\nin a good many countries, for wherever you find mountains, hills, and\nrivers, there you'll find the Meadows family,--there was a little girl\nwho was both beautiful and good. She was not as good nor as beautiful\nas those you read about in the books, but she was good enough for the\npeople who knew her. For a wonder she didn't have long golden hair.\nHer hair was black, and curled about her head in the loveliest way;\nand her eyes were large and brown, and her skin creamy white, with\njust the shadow of rose color in her face. Her parents were rich and\nproud, but they were prouder of their little girl than they were of\ntheir money, as well they might be, seeing that she was the smartest\nand most beautiful child to be found in all the country round.\"\n\n\"Were there no princes and castles in that country?\" inquired Sweetest\nSusan.\n\n\"Oh, dear, no!\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"The folks were just plain,\ncommon, every-day people. Those that were fortunate enough to be\nhonest and contented were much better off than any princes you ever\nheard of; and a hut where happiness lives is a much finer place than\nthe finest castle.\n\n\"Well, as I was telling you, the parents of this little girl with\nblack curly hair were very proud of her. They watched over her very\ncarefully, and neglected nothing that would make her happy and\ncontented. Some little girls that I have known would have been spoiled\nby so much kindness and attention, but this little girl with the black\ncurly hair wasn't spoiled at all. She was as good as she was\nbeautiful.\n\n\"One day, when this little girl was walking in the flower garden, she\nheard the gardener talking to his wife through the iron fence. The\nwoman's voice was so pleasant and her laugh so cheerful that the\nlittle girl ran to the fence and peeped through to see who it was. The\ngardener's wife saw her, and at once began to pet her and make much of\nher. The little girl wanted the woman to come into the garden, and\nseemed to be so much in earnest about it that the woman promised she\nwould come and be the child's nurse some day.\n\n\"No sooner had the gardener's wife gone about her business than the\nlittle girl ran and told her mother that she must have a nurse. At\nfirst her mother paid little attention to her, thinking that it was\nthe passing whim of a child, but the little girl insisted, until\nfinally her mother said:--\n\n\"'Who shall be your nurse? You know, my dear, that you can't have\neverybody and anybody?'\n\n\"'Ask the gardener,' the little girl replied. 'He knows.'\n\n\"'And how does he know?' the mother asked.\n\n\"'I saw him talking with her,' the little girl replied.\n\n\"So, after a time, the gardener was called, and then it was found that\nhis wife was the person the little girl had selected to be her nurse.\nThe father and mother hesitated for some time before they would\nconsent to send for the woman, but finally she came, and they were so\nmuch struck by her pleasant manners and cheerful disposition that they\nwere quite willing to employ her.\n\n\"For a long time after that the little girl and her nurse were never\nseparated except when the nurse would go home to see her husband and\nher son, who was a handsome boy about fourteen years old. The little\ngirl used to grieve so when her nurse left her that on one occasion,\nwhen the woman was going home for only an hour or so, she carried the\nchild with her. There the little girl saw the handsome son of her\nnurse, and they were both very much pleased with each other. In the\nlittle time she stayed, the boy showed her a hundred new games, and\ntold her a great many stories she had never heard before.\"\n\n\"How old was the little girl?\" Mr. Thimblefinger inquired.\n\n\"Between seven and eight,\" replied Mrs. Meadows \"Just old enough to be\ncute. Well, in the little time they were together the boy and girl\ngrew to be very fond of each other. The boy thought she was the\ndaintiest and prettiest creature he had ever seen, and the little girl\nthought the boy was all that a boy should be.\n\n\"Of course, when the little girl went back home again she talked of\nnothing else but the boy who had proved to be such a wonderful\nplaymate. This set the child's mother to thinking, and she made up her\nmind that it wouldn't do for these children to see so much of each\nother. So she sent for the nurse and told her very kindly that she\ndidn't think it would be prudent to carry the little girl to her house\nany more.\n\n\"The nurse agreed with the little girl's mother, but somehow she\ndidn't relish the idea that her brave and handsome son wasn't good\nenough to play with anybody's daughter. She thought the matter over\nfor several days, and finally decided that it would be better to give\nup her place as nurse. She was very fond of the little girl, but she\nwas still fonder of her boy. So she ceased to be the child's nurse,\nand went to her own home.\n\n\"The little girl grieved day and night for her kind nurse. Nothing\nwould console her. Her mother bought her a little pony, but she\nwouldn't ride it; wonderful dolls, but she wouldn't look at them; the\nfinest cakes and candies, but she wouldn't eat them; the most\nbeautiful dresses, but she wouldn't wear them. Matters went on in this\nway for I don't know how long, until, finally, one day the little\ngirl's mother concluded to send for the nurse.\n\n\"Now it happened that on that particular day the little girl had made\nup her mind to go after her nurse. One day in each week, the gardener\nwould open the big gates of the park in order to trundle away the\ntrash and weeds that he had raked up. The little girl watched him open\nthe gate, and then, when the gardener went for his wheelbarrow, she\nslipped out at the gate and went running across the fields.\n\n\"For a time the little girl was perfectly happy. She gave herself up\nto the pleasure of being alone, of being able to do as she chose, with\nno one to tell her not to do this or do that, or to say 'come here,'\nor 'go yonder.' So she went running across the fields, looking at the\nbirds, and trying to catch butterflies, and singing to herself some of\nthe beautiful songs that her nurse's son had taught her.\n\n\"Now it happened that when she ran out of the garden gate, in her\nhaste to keep out of sight of the gardener, she went away from her\nnurse's house instead of going towards it. She had been kept so\nclosely at home that she had no idea of the great world beyond the\ngarden gate. She thought that all she had to do to get to her dear\nnurse's house was to go out at the gate and keep on going until she\ncame to the place where there were two big trees, with a swing\nbetween them, and a little white house on the other side.\n\n\"So she went on her way, singing and skipping. When she grew tired she\nsat down to rest. When she grew thirsty she drank of the clear, cold\nwater that ran through the fields. When she became hungry, she ate the\nberries that grew along the way. She was perfectly satisfied that she\nwould soon come to her nurse's house. But the sun doesn't stop for\ngrown people, much less for children, and the little girl soon found\nthat night was coming on. The only thought she had was that her\nnurse's house had been moved farther away, and that by going straight\nahead she would find it after a while.\n\n\"So she trudged along. When the sun was nearly down she saw an old man\nsitting in the shade of a tree. The little girl went straight towards\nhim, made him a curtsey, as she had been taught to do, and said:--\n\n\"'Please, sir, where is my nurse's house?'\n\n\"The old man raised his head and glanced all around. 'I see no nurse's\nhouse,' he replied.\n\n\"Then, after a little while the old man said: 'My dear, give me a\ndrink of water.'\n\n[Illustration: THE LITTLE GIRL AND THE OLD MAN]\n\n\"The little girl looked all around. 'I see no water,' she replied.\n\n\"'Well said, well said!' exclaimed the old man. 'You are very bright\nand very beautiful, therefore I'll give you some advice. There is a\nspring by yonder tree, but you must not drink the water. There is a\npomegranate-tree growing by the spring, but you must eat none of the\nfruit.'\n\n\"Having said this, the old man slung his wallet over his back and went\non his way. The little girl went to the spring and looked at the\nwater. Then she looked at the beautiful red fruit growing on the\npomegranate-tree. She was very thirsty, very hungry, and very tired.\nShe thought to herself that the old man was very mean and stingy.\n'He's afraid I'll muddy the water,' she said, 'and he wants all the\npomegranates for himself.'\n\n\"Then she drank from the spring, and the water was very sweet and\ncool. She ate the fruit of the pomegranate-tree, and it was delicious.\nThen being tired, she stretched herself out on the grass and was soon\nsound asleep.\n\n\"Now it so happened,\" continued Mrs. Meadows, pretending to examine\nthe stitches in Sweetest Susan's frock \"that the spring and the\npomegranate-tree were under a spell. They belonged to an old Conjurer\nwho lived in a cave close by. In this cave he had a large bowl of\nwater on a shelf, and near it, growing in a box, was a little\npomegranate-bush. Whenever anybody drank from the spring, the water in\nthe bowl would shake and tremble and become muddy; and whenever a\npomegranate was pulled from the big bush by the spring, the little\nbush in the Conjurer's cave would bend and wave its limbs as if a gale\nwere blowing.\n\n\"All this occurred when the little girl drank from the spring and\npulled and ate one of the pomegranates; and by the time she was sound\nasleep, the Conjurer had come out of his cave and discovered her. He\nwaited a little while, and then took the child and carried her to his\ncave, and it was many a long day before anybody, except the Conjurer\nhimself, saw her again.\"\n\nAt this point Mrs. Meadows paused.\n\n\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nMRS. MEADOWS RESUMES HER STORY.\n\n\nThe pause was occasioned by Mr. Rabbit. He had fallen into a doze\nwhile Mrs. Meadows was telling her story, and just as she came to the\npoint where the Conjurer had lifted the little girl in his arms and\ncarried her into his cave, Mr. Rabbit had dreamed that he was falling.\nHis chair was tilted back a little, and he made such a mighty effort\nto keep himself from falling in his dream that he lost his balance and\nwent over sure enough.\n\n\"I declare!\" he exclaimed. \"I ought to be ashamed of myself to be\nfalling heels over head this way without any reason in the world, and\nright before company too. Wasn't there something in your story about\nfalling?\"\n\n\"Not a word!\" replied Mrs. Meadows firmly.\n\n\"Well, well, well!\" exclaimed Mr. Rabbit. \"I'll try and keep my eyes\nopen hereafter.\"\n\nThe children tried their best to keep from laughing at Mr. Rabbit's\npredicament, but Drusilla was finally compelled to give way to her\ndesire, and then they all joined in, even Mr. Rabbit smiling somewhat\ngrimly.\n\n\"Let me see,\" said Mrs. Meadows, after a while; \"the last we heard of\nthe little girl I was telling you about, the Conjurer had carried her\ninto his cave?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Sweetest Susan; \"and now I want to know what became of\nher.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"the shortest way to tell you that is the\nbest way. It happened that on the very day the little girl ran away to\nvisit her nurse, the nurse had concluded to visit the little girl. So\nshe put on her best things and went to the little girl's home. When\nthe woman came to the garden she saw the gate open, and presently her\nhusband, the gardener, came out trundling a load of weeds and trash in\nhis wheelbarrow. She asked about the little girl.\n\n\"'She was playing under the trees yonder awhile ago,' said the man. 'I\nhaven't seen her since.'\n\n\"The woman went into the garden and searched among the trees and\narbors, but no little girl could she find.\n\n\"'Having come so far,' she said to herself, 'I'll not go back without\nseeing the precious little creature.' So she went towards the house,\nsearching for the child. She inquired of every servant she met where\nthe little girl was, and finally went into the house searching for\nher. At last she came to the room where sat her former mistress. But\nthe child was not there.\n\n\"In a very short while there was a tremendous uproar in the place. The\nmaid servants and the men servants went running about through the\nhouse, through the yard, and through the garden, calling the little\ngirl. They hunted in every hole and corner, and in every nook and\ncranny, but the child was not to be found.\n\n\"The kind-hearted nurse wept almost as bitterly as the mother. 'Oh, if\nI had been here,' she cried, 'this would never have happened.'\n\n\"The little girl's father came in just in time to hear this, and he\nimmediately suspected that the nurse had stolen his daughter and would\npretend to find her again in the hope of securing a reward. He said\nnothing of his suspicions, but he determined to have the nurse\nclosely watched.\n\n\"He was so firmly convinced that his suspicion was correct that he\ntreated his daughter's disappearance somewhat lightly, and this helped\nto console the mother. When it became certain that the little girl was\nnot to be found in the house or on the place, her father called one of\nhis trusty clerks (for he was a rich and powerful merchant), and told\nhim to disguise himself as a peddler, go to the nurse's house, and\nthere discover, if possible, where the nurse had bestowed the child.\n\n\"The clerk did as he was directed, but when he arrived at the nurse's\nhouse, disguised as a peddler, he was surprised to find as much grief\nunder that humble roof as there was at his master's house. He knocked\nat the door and inquired the cause of the trouble, hoping to discover\nthat the display of grief was a mere sham. But he soon saw it was\ngenuine. Both the woman and her handsome son were weeping bitterly\nover the disappearance of the little girl.\n\n\"'May I get a bite to eat?' asked the peddler.\n\n\"'That you may!' exclaimed the woman, 'for we shall need nothing\nourselves, until we hear some news of that precious child.' Then she\ntold the peddler about the strange disappearance of the little girl\nshe used to nurse, and the peddler, in order to carry out his purpose,\nasked a great many questions. When he was told that the parents of the\nlittle girl were very rich he laughed, and said that if they had\nplenty of money they could get along very well without a little girl,\nbut this made the woman and her son so angry that they were on the\npoint of showing the peddler the door. They were ready to dismiss him\nwith many hard words, when they heard some one calling.\n\n\"The son went into the yard, and found that an old man had fallen not\nfar from their gate and was unable to rise. The woman went to help her\nson bring the old man in, and while they were gone the peddler took\nhis leave without so much as saying good-by.\n\n\"With a good deal of trouble the old man was brought into the house,\nand made comfortable, but no sooner had he been placed upon the\nwoman's bed than he leaped to his feet and stood on the floor,\nlaughing.\n\n\"'I have fallen at a dozen doors to-day,' he cried, 'and this is the\nfirst that has been opened to me.'\n\n\"'Well,' replied the woman, 'if we had known you were playing pranks\non us I don't think this door would have opened to you. We are having\ntoo much trouble ourselves to pester with other people's troubles.'\n\n\"Then she went on to tell of the disappearance of the little girl she\nused to nurse. The old man tried to get in a word of consolation, now\nand then, but the woman talked too fast for that. But presently she\nhad told about all she had to tell.\n\n\"'See how it turns out!' cried the old man. 'How can it be accident\nthat brings to your door the only person in the world that can give\nyou any tidings of the little girl? I saw a child to-day some miles\nfrom here who asked me to show her her nurse's house.'\n\n\"'Bless her dear little heart!' exclaimed the woman.\n\n\"'But she was in great danger,' said the old man. 'She was just about\nto enter the domain of Rimrak.'\n\n\"'Ah, why didn't you bring her away with you?' cried the woman.\n\n\"'It is not permitted,' replied the old man. 'I did what I could. I\nwarned her not to drink of the waters of the spring nor to eat of the\npomegranate-seed. I could do no more.'\n\n\"'Oh, what will become of the dear child?' exclaimed the woman,\nwringing her hands.\n\n\"'If she drinks of the waters of the spring,' responded the old man,\n'or eats of the pomegranate-seed, she will fall into a deep sleep.\nThen will come Rimrak, the Conjurer, and convey her to his cave, and\nthere she will be held captive until she forgets she is a captive, or\nuntil she has been rescued by some bold youth who loves her well\nenough to remember the color of her eyes.'\n\n\"'I remember! I remember!' cried the woman's handsome son.\n\n\"'Be not too sure,' replied the old man. 'Sit down and think it over.'\n\n\"'No need for that,' said the boy. 'Her eyes once seen can never be\nforgotten.'\n\n\"'Oho!' exclaimed the old man. 'Then perhaps you can tell me the color\nof the little girl's eyes?'\n\n\"'Certainly,' said the boy. 'They are brown when she lifts them to\nyour face and dark when she looks away from you.'\n\n\"The old man nodded his head with a greater display of good humor than\nhe had yet shown.\n\n\"'Ah, you think so,' said the old man, warningly; 'you think you know,\nbut be not too sure.'\n\n\"'Why, I can see her now!' exclaimed the boy.\n\n\"'Where?' cried his mother; 'oh, where?'\n\n\"The boy fell back in his seat and covered his face with his hands.\n\n\"'He was speaking of his memory,' said the old man. 'If he can trust\nit, well and good.'\n\n\"'You should have brought the child home with you,' said the\nmatter-of-fact woman.\n\n\"'It was not in my power,' replied the old man. 'She had gone too far.\nShe had already entered the domain of Rimrak, the Conjurer. All that I\ncould do I did. I warned her not to drink of the waters of the spring.\nI warned her not to eat of the seed of the pomegranate. But now that I\nam here, let us see what can be done.'\n\n\"He went to his wallet, which he had placed on the table, opened it\nand took from it three knives. One was a clasp-knife with a long, slim\nblade, the next was a common case-knife, and the third was a big\nbutcher's-knife. The case-knife had once had a horn or wooden handle,\nbut this had dropped off, and the iron that held the knife in place\nhad been run into a corncob. The old man took these knives from his\nwallet, one by one, and placed them on the table.\n\n\"'Now listen to me,' he said to the boy. 'All will go well with you if\nyou are bold, and if you really remember the color of the little\ngirl's eyes. Here are your arms. This,' taking up the clasp-knife, 'is\nKeen-Point. This,' taking up the case-knife, 'is Cob-Handle. And this\nis Butch. Remember their names,--Keen-Point, Cob-Handle, and Butch.\nKeen-Point is to show you the way, Cob-Handle is to warn you of\ndanger, and Butch is to protect you. But they will all fail you--they\nwill all go wrong--if you do not remember the color of the little\ngirl's eyes.'\n\n\"The boy took Keen-Point, Cob-Handle, and Butch, and stowed them away\nin a wallet, in which his mother placed a supply of food. Then he set\nout on his journey, with a light heart. He was not afraid, for he knew\nthat he loved the little girl well enough to remember the color of her\neyes. He went on his way till he came to the open fields where no one\nlived. He had been there many a time before, but now it seemed to him\nthat he had never seen so many paths and by-ways. They led in all\ndirections and crossed each other almost at every turn.\n\n\"He stopped and looked all around, and then he took Keen-Point from\nhis wallet, and said:--\n\n    \"'Keen-Point can, Keen-Point may,\n    Point keen and true, and show me the way.'\n\n\"As soon as he said this, the knife tumbled from his hand and fell to\nthe ground, the end of the keen blade pointing towards one of the many\nfootpaths. The boy picked it up, and it tumbled from his hand again,\npointing in the same direction. He picked it up the second time, and\nagain the knife fell from his hand and pointed to the footpath. For\nthe third time he lifted the knife from the ground, and as it fell no\nmore, he placed it in his wallet, and went on his way.\n\n\"Thus he continued for many hours. When he was in doubt about the\nway, Keen-Point would show him. When he grew hungry, he ate the food\nhis mother had placed in his wallet. It was late in the day when he\nstarted, and before he came to the spring and the pomegranate-tree,\nthe sun went down and night came on. The boy stopped under a\nwide-spreading tree, said his prayers, placed his wallet under his\nhead for a pillow, and went to sleep.\n\n\"Bright and early the next morning he was up and going. Whenever he\nhad any doubt about the way, Keen-Point would show him, and before the\nsun was up very high, he came in sight of the pomegranate-tree, with\nits red and golden fruit, and he knew the spring was close by.\n\n\"As he went on he grew thirstier, and thirstier, and when he came to\nwhere the cool, clear waters of the spring were bubbling from the\nground with a sort of gurgling sound, his throat and mouth seemed to\nbe as dry as paper. More than that, when he came to the spring, a\ntraveler was sitting on one of the stones that lay around, drinking\nthe water from a silver cup and peeling the rind from a pomegranate\nwith a silver knife. The traveler had a very pleasant face and\nmanner, and he spoke to the boy in the kindest way.\n\n\"'If you want some water,' he said, 'you may drink from my silver cup.\nIf you are hungry, you may peel a pomegranate with my silver knife.'\n\n\"The boy thanked the traveler and said that he would eat and drink\nlater in the day. He thought to himself that a man who could drink\nfrom a silver cup and eat with a silver knife ought to be able to\ntravel in a carriage or on horseback, but there was no horse nor\ncarriage in sight.\n\n\"'Well,' said the traveler, 'if you will neither eat nor drink, you\ncan at least rest yourself.'\n\n\"So the boy seated himself on one of the big rocks close by the\nspring, and the traveler began to ask him all sorts of questions. What\nwas his name, and where did he come from, and where was he going.\"\n\n\"What _was_ his name?\" asked Sweetest Susan suddenly.\n\n\"Well, I declare!\" exclaimed Mrs. Meadows, \"haven't I told you his\nname?\"\n\n\"If you did, we didn't hear you,\" said Buster John.\n\nMrs. Meadows raised her hands above her head and let them fall\nhelplessly in her lap. \"I told you I didn't know how to tell stories!\"\nshe cried. \"You had fair warning. Well, well, well! And I never even\ntold you his name!\" She paused and stared at the children as if she\nwanted them to pity her weakness. \"To think that I should forget to\ncall his name! Everybody knew it in my day and time, and they knew\nabout his wonderful adventures.\n\n\"His name was Valentine, because he was born on St. Valentine's Day,\nand the little girl's name was Geraldine.\n\n\"Well, the traveler asked Valentine all sorts of questions, and tried\nhard to persuade him to drink some of the water and eat the\npomegranate-seed.\n\n\"'I have heard,' said the traveler, 'that all this country around here\nis ruled by a cruel Conjurer, and that he has power over all except\nthose who may chance to find this spring and this pomegranate-tree in\npassing, and drink of the water and eat of the fruit.'\n\n\"But Valentine shook his head. He said he would rather have milk than\nwater any day, and as for pomegranates, he had no taste for them.\n\n\"'Then I would advise you to go no farther,' said the traveler. 'If\nyou fall into the hands of the Conjurer, you will never escape.'\n\n\"'I have heard of this great Conjurer,' replied Valentine, 'and I\nshould like nothing better than to see him.'\n\n\"He took Keen-Point from his wallet and pretended to be playing with\nit, letting it fall and picking it up. The knife pointed beyond the\nspring and the pomegranate-tree, and in a little while Valentine went\non his journey. On the hill beyond the spring, he turned and looked\nback, but the traveler had disappeared. As there was no place where he\ncould hide, Valentine concluded that the man he had seen was no\ntraveler at all, but Rimrak, the Conjurer.\n\n\"But he was not afraid. He went on his way, and, after a little, came\nto a grove of the tallest and biggest trees he had ever seen. As he\nwas passing through this grove, he suddenly saw two tremendous spiders\nrunning about among the trees before and behind him. Their bodies were\nas big as a feather bed when it is rolled up, and they were pretty\nmuch the same color. Valentine watched their antics a few minutes, and\nsoon saw they were spinning a web among the trees and that he was in\nthe middle of it.\n\n\"The big spiders ran about on the ground spinning their webs around\nhim, and then they began to jump from tree to tree. Valentine began to\nhave a creepy feeling up and down his back, for he didn't relish the\nidea of being caught in a spider's web like a bluebottle fly. He\nwondered why Cob-Handle hadn't warned him of the danger, and then he\nremembered that the case-knife was wrapped so tightly in his wallet\nthat it couldn't give a warning if it was to try. So he took all the\nknives from the wallet,--Keen-Point, Cob-Handle, and Butch,--and\nplaced them in his girdle.\n\n\"Valentine hardly had time to fasten the straps about the wallet,\nbefore he felt Cob-Handle jumping about and thumping against his side.\nThen he saw one of the big spiders coming towards him. Big as it was\nit moved nimbly, and before Valentine had time to get out of the way,\nit ran around him and wrapped a strand of its web about his legs. The\nstrand was as big as a stout twine and as strong and as hard as wire.\nThen the big spider turned and came back, but by this time Valentine\nhad drawn Butch from his belt, and as the ugly creature came near he\nstruck at it with the knife, and cut off one of its hairy legs. The\ncreature was so full of life and venom that its leg jumped around and\nclawed the ground for some little time.\n\n\"Holding Butch point down and edge outwards, Valentine cut the strand\nof web that held his legs. It was so large, and drawn so tightly about\nhim, that it sounded like somebody had broken a fiddle-string. In this\nway he cut his way through the web. The crippled spider ran to his\nmate, and the two stood watching Valentine, their eyes shining green\nand venomous, and their jaws working as if they were chewing\nsomething.\"\n\n\"They were sharpening their teeth,\" Buster John suggested.\n\n\"I reckon so,\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"Anyhow they were ugly enough to\nscare anybody. Valentine cut his way through the web and marched out\non the other side. He rested a little and then went on his way; but he\nhad not gone far before Cob-Handle began to jump and thump against\nhis side. He stopped and looked around, but he could see nothing. He\nlistened, but he could hear nothing.\n\n[Illustration: VALENTINE SLAYING THE SPIDER]\n\n\"Presently he felt the ground moving beneath his feet, and he ran\nforward as fast as he could. And he didn't run too fast, either, for\nno sooner had he jumped away than a great hole appeared right where he\nhad been standing. He could see that it was both wide and deep, but he\ndidn't go back to look at it.\n\n\"No; he kept on his way, and it wasn't long before Cob-Handle began to\njump and thump. Keen-Point also began to jump and thump, and showed\nhim which way to go, and he ran as fast as he could. He heard a\nroaring sound as he started, and he had hardly got fifty steps away,\nthough he was running with all his might, before a tremendous\nwhirlwind came along, tearing up the bushes by roots and ploughing the\nground. It came so close to Valentine that if he had had on a\nlong-tail coat, I believe it would have been tangled in the whirlwind.\n\n\"I tell you,\" Mrs. Meadows went on, seeing the children smiling, \"it\nwas no laughing matter to Valentine. He shivered and trembled when he\nthought what a narrow escape he had had.\n\n\"He went on his way, and in a little while Cob-Handle began to jump\nand thump again. Valentine, thus warned, stood still and looked around\nmore carefully than he had yet done. Some distance off, he saw a\nhorrible creature coming towards him. It was in the shape of a man,\nbut it had four arms and hands, and in each hand it was flourishing a\nclub. Its hair stood out from its head like the shucks in a\nscouring-mop, and as it came nearer, Valentine saw that it had three\neyes,--one on each side of its nose, and one in its forehead.\n\n\"Keen-Point said, 'Go straight forward,' and then Butch began to jump\nand thump, so Valentine placed Cob-Handle and Keen-Point in his\ngirdle, and took Butch in his hand. Holding the point straight before\nhim, he went towards the misshapen creature. Its red and watery eyes\nwere blinking and winking, and its arms were threshing the air with\nthe clubs at such a tremendous rate that Valentine thought his hour\nhad surely come. But he shut his eyes and went straight at the\ncreature. The sharp point of Butch had no sooner touched the monster\non its hairy breast than its hands dropped the clubs, and it ran\nhowling back the way it came.\n\n\"Valentine followed fast enough to see the creature enter a cave, and\nto this, Keen-Point told him he must go. As he went forward, a\nfierce-looking man came from the cave and stood guarding the entrance.\nHe was covered from head to foot with silver armor, and he brandished\na long keen sword with a silver handle. But Valentine went straight\nforward, holding Butch in his hand. The long sword never touched him,\nnor did the silver armor stand in his way. With one blow against Butch\nthe long sword was shattered, and the silver armor fell away from\nRimrak like the hulls from a ripe hickory-nut. Rimrak himself fell\nbefore Butch and disappeared with a hissing sound; and then the cave\nwas no longer dark. Its roof seemed to roll away; and where the cave\nhad been, there stood a great company of people who had been held\ncaptive by the Conjurer. They stood wondering what had happened and\nwhat would happen next. Among them was Geraldine. She knew Valentine,\nand ran to him, and then he was very happy. The people whom he had\nrescued, gathered around him and thanked him and thanked him; and some\nwould have rewarded him, but he said he deserved none. He had come\nafter the little girl, and he was not responsible for any accidents\nthat happened to other people. This is what he said, and this is how\nhe felt; but the people wondered that a young boy should be so bold\nand yet so modest.\n\n\"So they talked together, and decided to go with him to his home.\nTheir horses and their carriages they found in good order, and in a\nlittle while they formed a procession. In this way they carried\nValentine to his home, crying out to the people they passed,--\n\n\"'This is our deliverer! This is the brave boy that conquered Rimrak,\nthe great Conjurer!'\n\n\"They carried Valentine to his home, and then they went with him to\nGeraldine's home. There was great rejoicing in the town. The little\ngirl's father was rich, and he called all the people together; and\nthey had a big dinner, and everybody was happy. The little girl had\nher old nurse back, and she grew up to be a beautiful young woman, and\nValentine grew up to be a handsome young man.\"\n\n\n\n\nXIX.\n\nA STORY OF THE RIVER.\n\n\n\"I think that was a beautiful story,\" said Sweetest Susan, when Mrs.\nMeadows paused; \"but was that the end?\"\n\n\"Why, wasn't that enough?\" inquired Mr. Rabbit sleepily. \"What more\ncould you ask? Didn't the boy and girl get back home where they could\nget something to eat?\"\n\n\"What became of them?\" asked Buster John. \"The stories about boys and\ngirls in books say they married and lived happily ever after.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. \"I've heard about it. I remember\nthe poetry,--\n\n    \"'They married, then, and lived in clover,\n    And when they died, they died all over.'\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"I thought surely you'd get tired of\nValentine and Geraldine by the time they got back home, and so I\nthought we'd do well to leave them there. Still, if you are not\ntired--\" Mrs. Meadows paused and looked at the children.\n\n\"Oh, we are not tired,\" protested Buster John.\n\n\"Well,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"if that's the case, I'll tell you what\nhappened after Valentine and Geraldine went back home. Of course,\nGeraldine's father and mother were very proud and happy when their\nlittle girl was brought back to them. They were very grateful to\nValentine, and they offered him money. But somehow Valentine didn't\nwant their money. He said that the pleasure of getting Geraldine out\nof the hands of the wicked Conjurer was reward enough for him, and so\nhe shook his head and refused the money that was offered him.\n\n\"Now, the little girl's father was rich and prosperous, while\nValentine was very poor, and it was natural that the rich man should\nwonder why the boy, who was poor, should refuse money. Somehow, he\ntook a dislike to Valentine. He said to himself that a boy who would\nrefuse money as a free gift would never be prosperous.\n\n\"As time went on, Valentine grew to be a handsome young man, but he\nwas still poor. He went to see Geraldine sometimes, but as she grew\nolder, she grew shyer. Valentine couldn't understand this, but he\nthought it was because she was old enough to know that she was rich\nand he was poor.\n\n\"He said to her one day. 'You are not as friendly as you used to be.'\n\n\"'Oh, yes I am,' she replied. 'I shall always be friendly with you.'\n\n\"'No,' said he, 'you have changed.'\n\n\"'No more than you,' was her answer.\n\n\"'I changed?' he cried. 'I love you more than I ever did.'\n\n\"With that Geraldine hung her head to hide her blushes, but Valentine\nthought she was angry. He turned on his heel and would have gone away,\nbut she called him back, and told him not to go away angry--and then\nthey made it up somehow. Valentine said he would speak to Geraldine's\nfather. This he did, but the father shook his head.\n\n\"'You want to take her to a hut?' he cried. 'Why she might as well\nhave stayed in the Conjurer's cave. Go and get you a fortune, and then\ncome back, and maybe we'll talk the matter over.'\n\n\"Valentine went away very sad. He never turned his head, although\nGeraldine was watching him from a window, ready to wave her hand and\nthrow him a kiss. He wandered off into the woods until he came to the\nbank of the River, and there he sat watching the water go by. He\nwatched it until he almost forgot his own trouble. It went along\nslowly and majestically, and sometimes it seemed to come eddying back\nto kiss the bank at his feet. For a little while it smoothed the\nwrinkles in his mind. He wondered where the River came from and where\nit was going to. It was always coming and always going, and there was\nnever an end to it. All day long it went by, sometimes laughing and\nplaying in the shallows and sometimes sighing a little under the\nwillows.\n\n\"Valentine watched it and listened to the pleasant sounds it made\nuntil he began to feel as if the River was something like a friend and\ncompanion. It soothed his grief and drove away his loneliness. Being\nalone, he began to speak his thoughts aloud.\n\n\"'Oh! I wish I had a friend as strong and as powerful as the River!'\nhe cried.\n\n\"'And why not?' he heard a voice say. The water at his feet splashed a\nlittle louder. He looked around, but saw no one; he listened, but\nheard nothing.\n\n\"'I wonder who could have spoken?' he said aloud.\n\n\"'Who but your friend, the River?' a Voice replied.\n\n\"'Please don't mock me, whoever you are. There is no fun in\nmisfortune,' said Valentine.\n\n\"'None at all' responded the Voice. 'I am your friend the River. I\nwill give you all the aid in my power.'\n\n\"'How am I to know the River is talking?' Valentine asked.\n\n\"'By this,' replied the River. At the word, a wave larger than all the\nrest sprang up the bank, and threw its spray in Valentine's hair and\nface. 'That is my salute,' said the River. 'It is a rough way, but I\nknow no other. Now, how can I aid you?'\n\n\"'That is what troubles me,' responded Valentine. 'You are always\ngoing; you never stay.'\n\n\"'True,' said the River; 'but I am always coming. Therefore I must be\nalways returning.'\n\n\"'But how?' Valentine asked.\n\n\"'Not this way,' said the River, 'but over your head. When in the\nearly morning, or in the warmer noon, or in the pleasant evenings, you\nsee the white clouds flying westward, you may be sure that I am\nreturning.' Then the River broke into a thousand ripples, as if\nsmiling.\n\n\"But Valentine sat with a very serious face. 'I do not know how you\ncan aid me,' he sighed.\n\n\"'I know what you wish,' the River replied. 'You wish riches.'\n\n\"'Yes,' said Valentine, 'but not for the sake of the riches\nthemselves.'\n\n\"'Of course not!' the River exclaimed. 'Riches would be worthless if\nthey could not command something better; and they are worse than\nworthless when the power they give is used for evil. I can give you\nriches, but not without your help. I can give you the power to obtain\nwealth, but I cannot give you the power to use it as it should be\nused.'\n\n\"Valentine listened to the mysterious Voice of the River like one in a\ndream. He could hardly believe his ears.\n\n\"'You say nothing,' said the River; 'you seem half asleep. But if I am\nto help you, you must help yourself. Walk by my side a little way.\nFurther down you will come to a boat that has drifted against the\nbank.'\n\n[Illustration: VALENTINE TALKING TO THE RIVER]\n\n\"Valentine rose and stretched himself, and walked by the side of the\nRiver. He had not gone far before he came upon a boat that had drifted\ninto an eddy. It lay there rocking, and a long oar rested against the\nseat.\n\n\"'Jump in,' said the River; 'shove the boat away from the bank and\ntrust to me. Take the oar and pull, and I will push you along.'\n\n\"Valentine did as he was told, and he soon found that the boat was\ngliding swiftly along. The trees and houses on each side seemed to be\nrunning a race to the rear, and the boats that he passed on the River\nseemed to be standing still. He went on for some hours, always\ntrusting to the River. When he grew tired, he held his oar in the air\nand rested, but whether he rested or whether he rowed, he saw that his\nboat was always gliding swiftly along.\n\n\"Presently, in the far distance, he could see the spires and steeples\nof a city, and he wondered whether he would be compelled to go gliding\nby, or whether the River would land him there. But he was not left\nlong in doubt.\n\n\"'That is your future home,' said the River. 'There you will find\nfriends, and there you will become rich and famous.'\n\n\"'But how?' asked Valentine.\n\n\"'I can only tell you the beginning,' replied the River. 'When your\nboat glides to the landing-place, you will see there an old gentleman\nrichly dressed. He will ask you if you have seen his little son. He\nhas been there every day for two days, and he has asked of all comers\nthe same question.'\n\n\"'What shall I say to him?' asked Valentine.\n\n\"'Tell him you have not seen his son,' replied the River, 'but that\nyou feel sure you can find the boy. Tell the old gentleman that you\nhave come a long journey, and need rest, but that when you have\nrefreshed yourself, you will go and seek his son.'\n\n\"'But where shall I seek for the boy?' asked Valentine.\n\n\"'Come to me,' said the River. 'I will be here. I am always going, and\nyet I am always coming.'\n\n\"By this time they had come to the city. 'Row for the landing,' said\nthe River; 'your fortune is there.'\n\n\"Valentine dipped his oar in the water and rowed to the landing. He\nleaped from his boat, threw the chain around a stake, and looked\naround. Sure enough, an old gentleman, richly dressed, was walking up\nand down, his hands crossed behind him. When he saw Valentine he\npaused and looked at him. Valentine bowed politely as he had been\ntaught to do.\n\n\"'You are a comely lad,' said the old gentleman. 'Did you come down\nthe River, or from below?'\n\n\"'I came down the River,' replied Valentine, touching his hat again.\n\n\"'I have lost my youngest son,' said the old gentleman. 'He is a\nlittle boy about six years old. He wandered from home two days ago,\ncame to the River landing, and was last seen playing in a boat. I have\nbeen trying to find him. My boats have been searching in all\ndirections, but the child cannot be found.'\n\n\"'I think I can find him,' said Valentine, 'but first I must rest and\nrefresh myself. I have come a long journey, and I am tired.'\n\n\"The old gentleman seized him by the hand. 'Come with me!' he\nexclaimed. 'You shall go to my house. Your every want shall be\nsupplied. If you succeed in finding my lost boy you shall have\nwhatever you ask for.'\n\n\"'I shall ask for nothing,' replied Valentine. 'The pleasure I shall\nhave in restoring your son to your arms will be sufficient reward for\nme.'\n\n\"'Nevertheless,' said the gentleman, 'you shall have a more\nsubstantial reward than that.'\n\n\"So he took Valentine home, and treated him with the greatest\nkindness. He was served with rich food and the finest spiced wines,\nand fitted out with an elegant suit of clothes. Early the next\nmorning, Valentine thanked the gentleman for his kindness.\n\n\"'I go now,' he said, 'to find your son. Watch for me near the River.\nI may return soon, or I may be gone long, but when I return I will\nbring your son.'\n\n\"'You are young,' remarked the gentleman. 'You are hopeful and brave.\nYou imagine you can succeed where others have failed. But I fear not.\nMy lost boy has been sought by men older than you, and quite as brave,\nbut they have not found him.'\n\n\"'Certainly, I may fail,' Valentine replied. 'If I depended on myself\nalone, I know I would fail. But I trust in Providence.'\n\n\"Valentine and the gentleman then went to the River--one to go in\nsearch of the lost child, and the other to watch and wait for the\nreturn. Valentine went to the water's edge.\n\n\"'Get a boat with a sail,' whispered the River, lapping the sand at\nhis feet. This was provided at once, for the gentleman was very\nwealthy, and then Valentine set out on his voyage. 'Go back the way\nyou came,' said the River, 'but keep out of the middle current. Let\nthe wind fill your sails and carry you near the shore, on the right.'\nWith the River to direct him, Valentine sailed along with a light\nheart and a happy mind. For more than two hours he journeyed up the\nRiver, and it was not until the sun was low in the west that the River\ntold him to lower the sails of his boat. This done, the River carried\nhis boat gently ashore, and as it glided on the sand, he saw, near by,\na boat, in which a little boy lay fast asleep. Without disturbing him,\nValentine lifted the little fellow in his arms, and transferred him to\nthe new boat, in which wraps, and cloaks, and food had been placed.\n\n\"It was easy to guess how the little boy had been lost. He had gone\nto play in a boat, which broke loose from its fastenings, and drifted\nslowly up the River in the eddies that play hide and seek near the\nbank. The first day the searchers searched for him, they went too far.\nThe next day they searched too near, and so the child drifted and\ndrifted, and was lost sure enough. He was very cold and wet when\nValentine found him, but in a little while he was warmly wrapped in\nthe cloaks that had been provided.\n\n\"'Take his boat in tow,' said the River. 'Let your sails stay down,\nand take the oars and row home as hard as you can.'\n\n\"The River helped with its swift current, and it was not long before\nValentine caught a glimpse of the bonfire that was burning at the\nlanding to light him back to the city.\n\n\"There was great rejoicing when Valentine returned with the lost\nchild. The bells were rung and salutes fired from the big cannon that\ncommanded the approaches to the city. It turned out that the gentleman\nwhose child Valentine had found was the ruler of the city, and you may\ndepend upon it he was grateful to the unknown young man.\n\n\"But in all large cities there are some envious people, and these\nsoon had it whispered about that Valentine was a mere adventurer who\nhad stolen the child and hid it so that he might rescue it again when\na big reward was offered. These whispers grew thicker and thicker\nuntil at last they reached the ears of every one. No one knew\nValentine, and appearances were against him, but one day he was\napproached by an old man with a long white beard, who asked him from\nwhence he came. The old man was so kind and agreeable in his manner\nthat Valentine told him the story of the rescue of Geraldine.\n\n\"Much to his surprise the old man rose and embraced him. 'Come with\nme!' he cried. So saying, he carried Valentine to the marketplace, and\nthere in the presence of a great crowd of people, the old man said:--\n\n\"'Behold my rescuer! Behold the brave youth who conquered Rimrak, the\nConjurer.'\n\n\"This closed the mouths of the envious, and when that happens, there\nis not much more to tell in any story.\"\n\nHere Mrs. Meadows paused and looked at Mr. Rabbit, who sat fast asleep\nin his chair.\n\n\"Did he get rich and marry Geraldine?\" inquired Sweetest Susan.\n\n\"Why of course,\" replied Mrs. Meadows. \"Do you reckon he'd have gone\nthrough all these ups and downs if he wasn't to marry and settle down\nand be happy in the end?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Buster John, \"it was a pretty good story.\"\n\n\"I speck so,\" remarked Drusilla, \"but dey's lots too much richness in\nit fer me.\"\n\nMrs. Meadows laughed so heartily at this that Mr. Rabbit was aroused\nfrom his nap, and looked around in surprise.\n\n\"Did I hear somebody say supper was ready?\" he asked.\n\nMrs. Meadows laughed again, but this time she glanced at the sky of\nMr. Thimblefinger's queer country. It had grown perceptibly darker.\nMr. Thimblefinger drew out his little watch. Mr. Rabbit closed one\neye, and sat as if listening for something.\n\n\"Well,\" said Mrs. Meadows with a sigh, \"I reckon we'll have to tell\nyou good-by for this time, but I do hope you'll come again. I declare\nit has been a treat to have some new somebody to talk to. By the\ntime you get back home the sun will be setting in your country, and\nyour folks will begin to be uneasy about you.\"\n\n[Illustration: BUSTER JOHN SHAKING HANDS WITH MR. RABBIT]\n\nThe children were not at all anxious to go. They had had a very\ncurious experience in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer country, and they had\nalmost forgotten that the sun in their part of the world had a habit\nof going down. But they said they were ready, and then they shook\nhands all around. When Buster John came to shake hands with Mr.\nRabbit, the latter looked at the youngster a moment.\n\n\"Did you ever happen to know a colored man named Aaron?\" he asked.\n\n\"Uncle Aaron!\" exclaimed Buster John. \"Why, he lives on our\nplantation. He's the foreman.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mr. Rabbit solemnly, \"when you see Aaron, take his left\nhand in both of yours, bend his thumb back a little, and with your\nright thumb make this mark *. The first time he will pay no attention.\nMake it the second time. Then he will be ready to listen. Make it the\nthird time. Then he will ask you what you want. Say to him that you\nwant to learn the language of the animals.\"\n\n\"Won't he get angry?\" asked Buster John.\n\n\"Try him,\" replied Mr. Rabbit with a cunning look. \"Now, good-by!\"\n\n\"When you get ready to come again,\" said Mrs. Meadows, \"just drop a\nbig apple in the spring, and I'll be bound we'll all see it and know\nwhat it means. And when you come be sure and bring the apple. It's\nbeen a month of Sundays since I've had one.\"\n\nThe children promised they would, and then, with Mr. Thimblefinger\nleading the way, they started home, which they reached without further\nadventure. As they stood on the brink of the spring, waving their\nhands to Mr. Thimblefinger, who was smiling at them from the bottom,\nDrusilla remarked with unction:--\n\n\"I dunner how 't is wid you all, but I don't no mo' b'lieve we been\ndown dar under dat water dar dan--dan--dan de man in de moon. Dat I\ndon't!\"\n\nThen the youngsters heard the supper-bell ring, and they all ran\ntowards the house.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\nMinor typographic errors have been corrected without note.\n\nSome illustrations have been moved slightly so that they are not\nmid-paragraph.","title":"Little Mr. Thimblefinger and His Queer Country","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":43444}