{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_46988/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_46988","id":"gutenberg_46988","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46988","summary":null,"tags":["Animals -- Juvenile fiction","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Children's stories, American"],"text":"MOTHER WEST WIND \u201cWHEN\u201d STORIES\n\nBy Thornton W. Burgess\n\nAuthor Of \u201cOld Mother West Wind,\u201d \u201cThe Bed Time Story-Books,\u201d Etc.\n\nIllustrations in Color by Harrison Cady\n\nBoston: Little, Brown, And Company 1917\n\n\n[Illustration: 0008]\n\n\n[Illustration: 0009]\n\n\n\n\nDEDICATION\n\nTo all little children and to all those crowned with the glory of many\nyears who still retain that priceless possession, the heart of a child,\nthis little volume is affectionately dedicated.\n\n\n\n\nMOTHER WEST WIND \u201cWHEN\u201d STORIES\n\n\n\n\nI. WHEN MR. BLUEBIRD WON HIS BEAUTIFUL COAT\n\n\n[Illustration: 0019]\n\n|OF all the joyous sounds of all the year there is none more loved by\nPeter Rabbit, and the rest of us for that matter, than the soft whistle\nof Winsome Bluebird in the spring. The first time Peter hears it he\nalways jumps up in the air, kicks his long heels together, and does a\nfunny little dance of pure joy, for he knows that Winsome Bluebird is\nthe herald of sweet Mistress Spring, and that she is not far behind him.\nIt is the end of the shivery, sad time and the beginning of the happy,\nglad time, and Peter rejoices when he hears that sweet, soft voice which\nis sometimes so hard to locate, seeming to come from everywhere and\nnowhere.\n\nSo Peter loves Winsome Bluebird and never tires of seeing him about. You\nknow he wears a very, very beautiful coat of blue, the blue of the sky\nwhen it is softest, and you love to lie on your back and look up into it\nand dream and dream. It always has seemed to Peter that Winsome's coat\nis one of the loveliest he ever has seen, as indeed it is, and that it\nis quite right and proper and just as it should be that one having such\na beautiful voice and bringing such a beautiful message should himself\nbe beautiful. He said as much one day when he had run over to the\nSmiling Pool to pay his respects to Grandfather Frog.\n\n\u201cChug-a-rum! Certainly. Of course,\u201d replied Grandfather Frog. \u201cWinsome\nBluebird has a beautiful nature and his beautiful coat is the reward\nwhich Old Mother Nature has given him. It has been in the family ever\nsince his grandfather a thousand times removed was brave enough to\nbecome the herald of Mistress Spring.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Grandfather Frog, that sounds like a story,\u201d cried Peter. \u201cPlease,\nplease tell it to me, for I love Winsome Bluebird, and I know I\nshall love him more when I have learned more about him. His\ngreat-great-ever-so-great-grandfather must have done something very fine\nto have won such a lovely reward.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe did,\u201d replied Grandfather Frog. \u201cHe became the herald of Mistress\nSpring when no one else would, and bravely carried his message of\ngladness and joy where it was sadly needed, in spite of cold and\nhardship which no one else was willing to face.\u201d\n\n\u201cPlease, please tell me all about it,\u201d begged Peter.\n\nGrandfather Frog appeared to consider for a few minutes, and Peter\nwaited anxiously. Then Grandfather Frog cleared his voice. \u201cI will,\u201d\n said he, \u201cbecause you ought to know it. Everybody ought to know it, and\nWinsome Bluebird certainly never will tell it himself. He is too modest\nfor that. It happened a great while ago when the world was young. Mr.\nBluebird was one of the quietest and most modest of all the birds. He\nwore just a modest gray coat, and no one took any particular notice of\nhim. In fact, he didn't even have a name. He never quarreled with his\nneighbors. He never was envious of those to whom Old Mother Nature had\ngiven beautiful coats, or if he were, he never showed it. He just minded\nhis own affairs and did his best to do his share of the work of the\nGreat World, for even in the beginning of things there was something for\neach one to do.\n\n\u201cOld Mother Nature was very busy those days making the Great World a fit\nplace in which to live, and as soon as she had started a new family of\nbirds or animals she had to leave them to take care of themselves and\nget along as best they could. Those who were too lazy or too stupid to\ntake care of themselves disappeared, and others took their places. There\nwas nothing lazy or stupid about Mr. Bluebird, and he quickly learned\nhow to take care of himself and at the same time to keep on the best of\nterms with his neighbors.\n\n\u201cWhen the place where the first birds lived became too crowded and old\nKing Eagle led them out into the new land Old Mother Nature had been\npreparing for them, Mr. Bluebird was one of the first to follow him. The\nnew land was very beautiful, and there was plenty of room and plenty to\neat for all. Then came Jack Frost with snow and ice and drove all the\nbirds back to the place they had come from. They made up their minds\nthat they would stay there even if it were crowded. But after a while\nOld Mother Nature came to tell them that soon Jack Frost would be driven\nback from that wonderful new land, and sweet Mistress Spring would waken\nall the sleeping plants and all the sleeping insects up there so that\nit would be as beautiful as it was before, even more beautiful than the\nplace where they were now. She said that she should expect them to go to\nthe new land and make it joyous with their songs and build their homes\nthere and help her to keep the insects and worms from eating all the\ngreen things.\n\n\u201c'But first I want a herald to go before Mistress Spring to tell those\nwho have lived there all through the time of snow and ice that Mistress\nSpring is coming. Who will go as the herald of sweet Mistress Spring?'\nasked Old Mother Nature.\n\n\u201cAll the birds looked at one another and shivered, and then one by one\nthey tried to slip out of sight. Now Mr. Bluebird had modestly waited\nfor some of his big, strong neighbors to offer to take the message of\ngladness up into that frozen land, but when he saw them slip away one by\none, his heart grew hot with shame for them, and he flew out before Old\nMother Nature. 'I'll go,' said he, bobbing his head respectfully.\n\n\u201cOld Mother Nature just had to smile, because compared with some of his\nneighbors Mr. Bluebird was so very small. 'What can such a little fellow\nas you do?' she asked. 'You will freeze to death up there, for it is\nstill very cold.'\n\n\u201c'If you please, I can at least try,' replied Mr. Bluebird modestly. 'If\nI find I can't go on, I can come back.'\n\n\u201c'And what reward do you expect?' asked Old Mother Nature.\n\n\u201c'The joy of spreading such good news as the coming of Mistress Spring\nwill be all the reward I want,' replied Mr. Bluebird.\n\n\u201cThis reply so pleased Old Mother Nature that she then and there made\nMr. Bluebird the herald of Mistress Spring and started him on his long\njourney. It _was_ a long journey and a hard journey, harder, very much\nharder for Mr. Bluebird than the same journey is for Winsome these days.\nYou see, everything was new to him. And then it was so cold! He couldn't\nget used to the cold. It seemed sometimes as if he certainly would\nfreeze to death. At these times, when he sat shivering and shaking, he\nwould remember that sweet Mistress Spring was not very far behind\nand that he was her herald. This would give him courage, and he would\nbravely keep on. Whenever he stopped to rest, he would whistle the news\nthat Mistress Spring was coming, and sometimes, just to keep up his own\ncourage, he would whistle while he was flying, and he found it helped.\nTo keep warm at night he crept into hollow trees, and it was thus he\nlearned how snug and safe and comfortable such places were, and he made\nup his mind that in just such a place he would build his nest when the\ntime came.\n\n\u201cAs he passed on he left behind him great joy, and Mistress Spring found\nas she journeyed north that all in the forests and on the meadows were\neagerly awaiting her, for they had heard the message of her coming; and\nshe was glad and told Old Mother Nature how well her herald had done his\nwork. When he had completed his errand, Mr. Bluebird built a home and\nwas as modest and retiring as ever. He didn't seem to think that he had\ndone anything out of the usual. He simply rejoiced in his heart that he\nhad been able to do what Old Mother Nature had requested, and it never\nentered his head that he should have any other reward than the knowledge\nthat he had done his best and that he had brought cheer and hope to\nmany.\n\n\u201cWhen Jack Frost moved down from the far North in the fall, all the\nbirds journeyed south again, and of course Mr. Bluebird went with them.\nThe next season when it was time for Mistress Spring to start north, Old\nMother Nature assembled all the birds, and this time, instead of asking\nwho would carry the message, she called Mr. Bluebird out before them and\nasked if he were willing to be the herald once more. Mr. Bluebird said\nthat he would be glad to be the herald if she wished it. Then Old Mother\nNature told all the birds how brave Mr. Bluebird was and how faithful\nand true, and she made all the other birds feel ashamed, especially\nthose bigger and stronger than Mr. Bluebird. Then she said: 'Winsome\nBluebird, for that is to be your name from now on, I here and now\nappoint you the herald of Mistress Spring, and the honor shall descend\nto your children and your children's children forever and ever, and you\nshall be one of the most loved of all the birds. And because you are a\nherald, you shall have a bright coat, as all heralds should have; and\nbecause you are true and faithful, your coat shall be blue, as blue as\nthe blue of the sky.'\n\n\u201cShe reached out and touched Mr. Bluebird, and sure enough his sober\ngray coat turned the most wonderful blue. Then once more he started on\nhis long journey and he whistled his message more joyously than before.\nAnd because his whistle brought joy and gladness, and because he was\nbeautiful to see, it came about just as Old Mother Nature had said it\nwould, that he was one of the most loved of all the birds, even as his\ngreat-great-ever-so-great-grandson is to-day.\u201d\n\nPeter drew a long breath. \u201cThank you, Grandfather Frog,\u201d said he. \u201cI\nhave always loved Winsome Bluebird and now I shall love him more.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nII. WHEN OLD MR. GOPHER FIRST GOT POCKETS\n\n|THERE was one of Peter Rabbit's neighbors of whose presence he was\nalways aware, and yet whom he almost never saw. No, it wasn't Miner the\nMole, but it was one who lives in much the same way as Miner. When Peter\nwould leave the dear Old Briar-patch he seldom went far without coming\nto a little pile of fresh earth. These little piles of earth had puzzled\nPeter a great deal for a long time. It sometimes seemed to Peter as if\nthey appeared by magic. He would pass across a certain part of the Green\nMeadows, and there would be nothing but the green things growing there.\nWhen he returned the same way, there would be one or two or maybe half a\ndozen piles of newly turned earth.\n\n\u201cOf course,\u201d said Peter the first time he noticed one of these little\nearth piles, \u201cwhere there is a pile of earth like that, there must be a\nhole. Some one has been digging, and this is the dirt thrown out.\u201d\n\nBut when Peter looked for the hole he couldn't find one. There was no\nhole. It was very puzzling, but it was a fact. He kicked that pile of\nearth until he had scattered it far and wide, but there was no sign of\na hole. Later he tried the same thing with other little piles of earth,\nbut never once did he find a hole. It looked as if some one brought\nthose little piles, dropped them on the Green Meadows, and then went\naway. Of course no one did anything of the kind, and Peter knew it. He\nspent a good deal of time wondering who could make them. Then one day,\nas he was hopping along across the Green Meadows, the ground right in\nfront of him began to move. It so startled Peter that his first thought\nwas to run. Then he decided that it would be foolish to run until there\nwas something to run from. So he sat perfectly still and watched that\nspot where the ground was moving. Earth, loose earth, was pushed up from\nunderneath, and even as Peter sat there staring, with eyes popping out\nof his head and mouth wide open in wonder, the pile grew and grew until\nit was as big as any of the piles about which he so often had wondered.\nThen suddenly a head was thrust out of the middle of it, a homely head.\nIn an instant it vanished, and a second later the hole where it had\nbeen was filled. Peter could hear the stranger packing the earth in from\nunderneath. When Peter had recovered his breath and looked, there was no\nsign of the hole. No one would ever have guessed that there had been one\nthere.\n\nThat was Peter Rabbit's first meeting with Grubby Gopher. Since then he\nhas seen Grubby several times, but Grubby is never what you would\ncall neighborly, and Peter never has felt and never will feel really\nacquainted with him. But for one thing Peter would have thought Grubby\nGopher the most uninteresting fellow he ever had met. The one thing was\nthe discovery that Grubby has the biggest pockets in his cheeks that\nPeter has ever seen. And another thing about those pockets--they are on\nthe _outside_ of Grubby's cheeks instead of being inside, as is the case\nwith Striped Chipmunk. \u201cWhen Peter discovered this, he became curious\nat once. Of course. Who wouldn't be curious? Peter felt sure that there\nmust be a story in connection with those pockets. He wondered what use\nGrubby Gopher had for pockets, anyway. He wondered why they were outside\ninstead of inside his cheeks. He wondered a great many things, did\nPeter. And when he just couldn't stand it any longer for wondering, he\nbegan to ask questions.\n\n\u201cWhy does Grubby Gopher have pockets in his cheeks?\u201d he asked Jimmy\nSkunk.\n\n\u201cBecause they are handier there than they would be anywhere else,\u201d\n replied Jimmy with a twinkle in his eyes. \u201cHave you seen any fat beetles\nthis morning, Peter?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d returned Peter shortly. Then an idea came to him. \u201cI tell you\nwhat, Jimmy,\u201d said he, speaking eagerly, \u201cif you'll tell me about those\nqueer pockets of Grubby's and how he came by them, I'll help you hunt\nfor some beetles. Is it a bargain?\u201d\n\nJimmy Skunk scratched his nose thoughtfully as if trying to decide which\nwould have the better of the bargain. Then he grinned good-naturedly.\nYou know, Jimmy really is one of the best-natured little people in the\nworld. \u201cAll right,\u201d said he, \u201cit's a bargain. You do your part and I'll\ndo mine. Now where shall I begin?\u201d\n\n\u201cBegin with the days when the world was young, of course,\u201d replied\nPeter. \u201cAll good stories seem to have had their beginnings then, so far\nas I can see. Of course Grubby got those pockets from his father, and\nhis father got them from his father, and so on way back to the first\nGopher. So begin right off with him.\u201d\n\n\u201cJust as you say,\u201d replied Jimmy. \u201cOld Mr. Gopher, the first Gopher,\nwho wasn't old then, was one of the little people whom Old Mother Nature\nturned loose in the Great World which was just in its beginning and\ntold to make the best of life as they found it. No doubt they would need\nthings which they hadn't got, but first they must find out what they\nreally did need. Later, when she had more time, she would consider these\nneeds, and if they were real needs, not just desires, she would see what\ncould be done to supply them.\n\n\u201cSo Mr. Gopher started out to make his way in the Great World, and it\nwasn't long before he discovered that everybody else was doing the same\nthing. It soon became clear to him that if everybody lived on the same\nkind of food, there wouldn't be enough to go around, and the biggest\nand strongest creatures would get all there was, leaving the smaller and\nweaker ones to starve. Not long after this he discovered certain of\nhis big neighbors had begun to look at him in a way that made him most\nuncomfortable. In fact, they looked at him with such a hungry gleam\nin their eyes, and they licked their lips in such an unpleasant way\nwhenever he met them, that little cold shivers ran all over him and he\ndecided that the less he was seen the better his chances.\n\n\u201cOne other thing Mr. Gopher discovered, and this was that each one\nseemed to have some special gift. One was a good climber, another a\nswift runner, a third a wonderful jumper, a fourth a great swimmer. Mr.\nGopher could neither climb, nor run, nor jump, nor swim particularly\nwell. What could he do? Somehow he had a feeling that Old Mother Nature\nhad given him some special advantage. What could it be? He sat down and\nstudied himself. Then he noticed for the first time that his hands were\ndifferent from the hands of those about him. For his size they were\nvery large and strong, and on the three middle fingers of each hand were\nlong, stout claws. What could he do with these besides fight? Dig!\nThat was it; he could dig. He tried it. Sure enough, he could dig at a\nsurprising rate.\n\n\u201cThen came a new idea. He would dig himself a hole and live in it. That\nwould keep him out of sight of his big neighbors with the hungry-looking\neyes and the watery mouths. So he dug himself a hole, and then he\ndiscovered that in order to get food he must leave the hole, and so\nhe was no better off than before. While he was studying over this, He\nstarted a little tunnel just for the fun of digging, for he liked to\ndig, did Mr. Gopher. Presently he came to a root in his path. He decided\nto cut it and get it out of his way. Now when he began to cut it he made\nanother discovery, one that tickled him half to death. That root was\ngood to eat! He ate all of it, and then he went on digging, hoping to\nfind another. He did find another. Then Mr. Gopher made up his mind\nthat in the future he would live underground and be safe. He would make\nhimself a comfortable house, and then from that he would tunnel wherever\nhe pleased for food.\n\n\u201cSo Mr. Gopher made a comfortable house underground, and then he started\ndigging for food. Every once in a while he would make an opening at the\nsurface of the ground and push out the dirt he had dug in making his\ntunnel, filling up the opening as soon as he had pushed out all the\ndirt. In this way he kept his tunnels clear, so that he could run back\nand forth through them. So he lived very comfortably until one day he\nhappened to overhear Mr. Squirrel talking about the coming of Jack Frost\nand telling how he wouldn't mind because he was laying up stores of food\nin a storehouse.\n\n\u201c'That's a good idea of Mr. Squirrel's,' thought Mr. Gopher, who was\nmuch troubled by what he had heard about the coming of Jack Frost. 'I\nbelieve I'll do the same thing.' But when he tried it, he found it slow,\nhard work. You see, he could carry so little at a time, and had to carry\nit so far, that it was very discouraging. He had forgotten all about\nOld Mother Nature until suddenly one day she appeared before him and\nsmilingly asked what boon she could grant him. Almost without thinking\nhe replied, 'Pockets! Big pockets in my cheeks!'\n\n\u201cOld Mother Nature looked surprised. 'Tell me all about it,' said she.\n'Why do you want pockets, and what would you do with them if you had\nthem?'\n\n\u201cSo Mr. Gopher explained to Old Mother Nature how he had learned to live\nunderground and how lately he had been trying to lay up a store of food\nbut had found it slow work.\n\n\u201cOld Mother Nature was pleased to think that Mr. Gopher had made the\nmost of his opportunities, but she didn't say so. 'I'll think it over,'\nsaid she and left him. But the very next time Mr. Gopher brushed a hand\nagainst one of his cheeks, he discovered a great pocket there. Hastily\nhe felt of the other.\n\n\u201cThere was another great pocket there! Then Mr. Gopher was perfectly\nhappy. He felt that there wasn't a single thing in all the world that\nhe could ask for to make him any happier. It is just the same way with\nGrubby to-day. He is perfectly happy working in the dark under the\nground and very, very proud of the big pockets in his cheeks,\u201d concluded\nJimmy Skunk.\n\n\u201cThank you, Jimmy. Thank you ever so much. Now I'll help you find some\nfat beetles,\u201d cried Peter.\n\n\n\n\nIII. WHEN OLD MR. GROUSE GOT HIS SNOWSHOES\n\n|PETER RABBIT and Mrs. Grouse are very good friends. In fact they are\nthe best of friends. For one thing they are very near neighbors. Once in\na great while Mrs. Grouse comes to the dear Old Briar-patch and walks\nalong Peter's private little paths. However, that isn't often. But up\nin the bramble tangle on the edge of the Green Forest they spend a great\ndeal of time together. You see, they both fear the same enemies, and so\nthey have a great deal to talk over, and each is always ready to help\nthe other.\n\nWhen winter comes Peter is sometimes rather lonely. You see, a lot of\nhis feathered friends fly away to the warm, sunny Southland to spend the\nwinter. Other friends, Johnny Chuck and Striped Chipmunk and Grandfather\nFrog for instance, retire and sleep all through the cold weather. Peter\ncannot understand what they do it for, but they do. So Peter has very\nfew to gossip with after Jack Frost arrives. But he can always count on\nMrs. Grouse. No matter how hard Jack Frost pinches, or how bitter the\nbreath of rough Brother North Wind, somewhere in the Green Forest Mrs.\nGrouse is bravely doing her best to get enough to eat, and Peter knows\nthat if he looks for her he will find her.\n\nThere was one thing about Mrs. Grouse that puzzled Peter for a long\ntime, and this was the difference between the footprints she made in the\nsoft damp earth after a rain in the summer and the prints she made\nin the snow. The first time he noticed those prints in the snow, he\nactually didn't know who had made them. You know how very, very curious\nPeter is. He followed those queer footprints, and when he found that\nthey led right straight into the bramble tangle, he just didn't know\nwhat to think. He sat down on the edge of the bramble tangle and\nscratched his long right ear with his long left hind foot. When Peter\ndoes this it is a sign that he is very much puzzled about something.\n\n\u201cGood morning, Peter Rabbit. You seem to have something on your mind,\u201d\n said a voice from the middle of the bramble tangle.\n\nPeter gave a little start of surprise. Then he hopped into the bramble\ntangle along one of the little paths he had cut there. \u201cGood morning,\nMrs. Grouse,\u201d he replied. \u201cI _have_ got something on my mind. I have\nbeen following some strange tracks, and I don't know what to make of\nthem.\u201d He pointed at one of them as he spoke.\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d replied Mrs. Grouse in a tone of great surprise. \u201cI made those\nwith my snowshoes. I supposed you knew.\u201d\n\n\u201cSnowshoes! What are snow-shoes?\u201d asked Peter, looking more puzzled than\never.\n\nVery proudly Mrs. Grouse held out one foot for Peter to look at. Instead\nof the slim smooth toes he often had admired Peter saw that the bottom\nof each was covered for its whole length with queer-looking, horny little\npoints that prevented the foot from sinking way down in the snow as it\nwould have done without them. This made it very easy for Mrs. Grouse to\nget about on the snow instead of having to wade through it.\n\n\u201cMy!\u201d exclaimed Peter. \u201cHow perfectly splendid! Where did you get them?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d replied Mrs. Grouse with pride in her voice, \u201cthey have been\nin the family a great many years. They were given to my\ngreat-great-ever-so-great-grandfather by Old Mother Nature.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me about it. Do please tell me about it,\u201d begged Peter, who had\nnot had a story since Grandfather Frog went to sleep for the winter.\n\nMrs. Grouse fluffed out her feathers and settled herself comfortably.\n\u201cThere isn't much to tell,\u201d she began, \u201cbut all the same our family\nalways has been rather proud of the way we came by our snowshoes. It all\nhappened a great while ago.\u201d\n\n\u201cWay back in the time that Grandfather Frog tells about, when the world\nwas young?\u201d interrupted Peter.\n\nMrs. Grouse nodded and went on. \u201cGreat-grandfather Grouse lived very\ncomfortably in those days, even when the hard times came and so many\ntook to killing their neighbors because food was scarce. He always\nmanaged to get enough to eat because he didn't believe in being fussy.\nWhen he couldn't get what he wanted, he took what he could get and was\nthankful. When he couldn't find grasshoppers or crickets or bugs of any\nkind, or chestnuts or beechnuts or berries that he liked, he ate such\nberries as he could find, whether he liked them or not; and when he\ncouldn't find berries or seeds, he ate the buds of trees. So one way or\nanother he managed to pick up a living and to keep out of the way of his\nenemies, for he was just as smart as they were. You know, in those days\nthere were no hunters with dreadful guns.\n\n\u201cSo Grandfather Grouse managed to get along without really suffering\nuntil the coming of the first snow. That first snow was hard on\neverybody, but it was particularly hard on Grandfather Grouse. His slim\ntoes cut right through. They wouldn't hold him up at all. Of course he\nspent as much time as possible up in the trees, but when he wanted to\nget low-hanging berries on the bushes, the kind that stay on all winter,\nyou know, he just had to stand on the ground and reach up for them.\nThen, too, his feet were intended for walking and running rather than\nfor perching in trees, and it made his toes ache dreadfully to have to\ncling to the branch of a tree too long. I know just how it felt because\nI have had to do it when Reddy Fox has been hunting for me.\n\n\u201cBut Grandfather Grouse made the best of a bad matter and didn't say a\nword, not a word. He waded around in the snow as best he could, but it\nwas dreadfully tiresome. He couldn't take more than a few steps without\nstopping to rest. And this wasn't all; the snow made his feet ache with\nthe cold. He had to keep drawing first one foot and then the other up to\nwarm them in his feathers.\n\n\u201cNow Grandfather Grouse had sharp eyes, and he knew how to use them. He\nhad to, to keep out of danger. He watched the other little people, and\nhe soon saw that those with big feet, feet that were big for the size of\ntheir bodies, didn't sink in like those with small, slim feet. For the\nfirst time in his life he began to wish that Old Mother Nature had made\nhim different. He wished that he had broad feet. Yes, Sir, he wished\njust that. Then a thought popped into his head. Perhaps the snow wasn't\ngoing to last forever. Perhaps it would go away and never come again.\nThen he wouldn't want broad feet, but just the kind of feet he already\nhad. He sighed. Then he tried to smile bravely.\n\n\u201c'I guess,' said he, talking out loud to himself, for he thought he\nwas quite alone, 'I guess the thing to do is to stop worrying about the\nthings I haven't got and make the most of the blessings I have got,' and\nhe started to wade through the snow for some berries just ahead.\n\n\u201cNow Old Mother Nature happened to be passing, and she overheard\nGrandfather Grouse. 'I wish that every one felt as you do.' said she.\n'It would make things a great deal easier for me. But what is it that\nyou wish you had?'\u201d Grandfather Grouse felt both pleased and a little\nashamed--ashamed that he should even _seem_ to be dissatisfied. At first\nhe tried to pretend that everything really was all right, but after a\nlittle urging he told Old Mother Nature all about his troubles since the\ncoming of the snow. She listened and looked thoughtful. Then she told\nGrandfather Grouse to be patient and perhaps things would not be so bad\nas they seemed. Somehow Grandfather Grouse felt better after that, and\nwhen he went to bed for the night in a big hemlock-tree he was almost\ncheerful.\n\n\u201cThe next morning when he flew down to get his breakfast, he had the\ngreatest surprise of his life. Instead of sinking way down into the\nsnow, he sank hardly at all. He could get about with the greatest ease.\nHe didn't know what to make of it until he happened to look down at his\nfeet and then he saw--\u201d\n\n\u201cThat he had snowshoes!\u201d interrupted Peter Rabbit, dancing about in\ngreat excitement.\n\n\u201cJust so,\u201d replied Mrs. Grouse. \u201cHe had snowshoes just like the ones I\nhave now. When spring came, Old Mother Nature came around and took them\naway, because he no longer had need of them; but when the next winter\ncame, she returned them to him. She called them the reward of patience.\nAnd ever since that long-ago day our family has had snowshoes in the\nwinter. I really don't know how we would get along without them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don't know how you would,\u201d replied Peter Rabbit. \u201cIsn't it splendid\nhow Old Mother Nature seems to know just what everybody needs?\u201d\n\nAnd with that Peter started for the dear Old Briar-patch to tell little\nMrs. Peter all about the snowshoes of Mrs. Grouse.\n\n\n\n\nIV. WHEN OLD MR. PANTHER LOST HIS HONOR\n\n|PETER RABBIT, always curious, had overheard his cousin, Jumper the\nHare, tell Prickly Porky the Porcupine that it was lucky for him Puma\nthe Panther was too much afraid of men to come down to the Green Forest\nto live, but kept to the Great Woods and the Big Mountains. At the very\nmention of Puma the thousand little spears of Prickly Porky had rattled\ntogether, and Peter had a queer feeling that this time, instead of being\nrattled purposely to make others afraid, they rattled because Prickly\nPorky himself shook with something very like fear. In fact, it seemed to\nPeter that Prickly Porky actually turned pale.\n\nNow Peter knew nothing at all about Puma the Panther, and right away he\nwas so full of questions that he could hardly wait to get Jumper alone\nso that he might satisfy his curiosity. The first chance he got he began\nto ask questions so fast that Jumper clapped his hands over both ears\nand threatened to run away.\n\n\u201cWho is Puma? Where does he live? Why is Prickly Porky afraid of him?\nWhat does he look like? Why--\u201d It was then that Jumper clapped his hands\nover his ears. Peter grinned. \u201cPlease, Cousin Jumper, tell me about\nhim,\u201d he begged.\n\nJumper pretended to consider for a few minutes. Then, because like most\npeople he likes to air his knowledge, and also because he is very fond\nof his cousin Peter, he told him what he knew about Puma the Panther.\n\n\u201cIn the first place,\u201d said he, \u201cPuma is the biggest member of the Cat\nfamily living in the Great Woods.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs he bigger than Tuffy the Lynx?\u201d asked Peter eagerly.\n\nJumper nodded, and Peter's eyes opened very wide. \u201cHe looks very much\nlike Black Pussy, Farmer Brown's cat, only he is yellowish-brown instead\nof black, and is ever and ever and ever so many times bigger,\u201d continued\nJumper. \u201cHe has a long tail, just like Black Pussy, and great claws\nwhich are terribly sharp. He is so soft-footed that he can steal through\nthe woods without making a sound; he can climb trees like Happy Jack\nSquirrel, and he is so big and strong that every one but Buster Bear is\nafraid of him, even Prickly Porky, for he is so smart and cunning that\nhe has found a way to make Prickly Porky's thousand little spears quite\nuseless to protect him. But big and strong and smart as he is, he is a\ncoward because he is a sneak, and all sneaks are cowards. Of course, you\nknow that, Peter.\u201d\n\nPeter nodded. \u201cEverybody knows that,\u201d said he. \u201cBut if he is so big and\nstrong and smart, why is he a sneak?\u201d\n\n\u201cI guess it's in his blood, and he can't help himself,\u201d replied\nJumper. \u201cI guess it is because way back in the beginning of things his\ngreat-great-ever-so-great-grandfather lost his honor, and none of the\nfamily ever has got it back again.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did old Mr. Panther lose his honor?\u201d demanded Peter, fairly itching\nwith curiosity and eagerness.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d replied Jumper, \u201call I know is what I've heard whispered about\namong the people of the Great Woods. It may be true and it may not be,\nbut every one seems to believe it. As I said before, it happened way\nback in the beginning of things. Old King Bear ruled the Great Woods\nthen, and there was peace between all the animals. Mr. Panther was sleek\nand handsome and graceful in all his movements. He knew it, too. He\nspent a great deal of time washing himself and smoothing his fur, just\nas Black Pussy does. He would stretch out in the sun for hours with his\neyes closed until they were just slits. But all the time he saw all that\nwas going on around him.\n\n\u201cHe would watch old King Bear shuffling about in his clumsy fashion, and\nhe would curl the end of his tail up and twitch it scornfully. Then\nhe would look at his own trim form admiringly and think how much\nfiner-looking a king he would make. The more he watched old King Bear,\nthe more this feeling grew. He became envious and then jealous. But he\ntook care never to let old King Bear know this. You see, there was one\nthing about King Bear which Mr. Panther did respect, and that was his\nstrength. He had no desire to quarrel with King Bear. So whenever they\nmet he was very polite and said flattering things to him. But behind his\nback Mr. Panther made fun of him, but did it in such an artful way\nthat his neighbors merely thought that they themselves were making the\ndiscovery of how much handsomer Mr. Panther was than old King Bear.\n\n\u201cAfter a while came the hard time when food was scarce, and in order to\nkeep from starving, the big and strong began to prey on their neighbors\nwho were smaller or weaker or more helpless. But the law was made that\nnone should kill more than was needed to fill an empty stomach for the\ntime being. It was then that Mr. Panther thought of a plan for making\nold King Bear hated by all his subjects.\n\n\u201c'If they hate him, they will refuse to have him as king any longer,\nand I, being next in strength and far more kingly in appearance, will be\nmade king in his place,' reasoned Mr. Panther, but he took care not to\nhint such a thing.\n\n\u201cPresently ugly stories began to float about. Some one was killing\nseemingly for the fun of killing. It was dreadful, but it was true.\nAlmost every day some one was found killed but not eaten, and always\nthere were footprints going to and away from the place, and they were\nthe footprints of _old King Bear!_ So all the forest people began to\nhate King Bear and to mutter among themselves that they would have him\nfor king no longer. Finally some of them went to Old Mother Nature and\ntold her all about it; they asked that old King Bear be punished and\nthat some one else be made king in his place. Old Mother Nature told\nthem that she would think it over.\n\n\u201cQuite unknown to old King Bear, she followed him about and watched him\nas he shuffled about in his clumsy way. 'Hm-m, it ought not to be very\nhard to keep out of his way. Those who are caught must be very stupid\nif _he_ catches them,' thought she. Presently her sharp eyes caught a\nglimpse of a shadowy form sneaking along behind old King Bear. It was\nMr. Panther, and he was stepping with the greatest care so as to leave\nno footprints. Old Mother Nature sat down and waited. She saw Mr.\nPanther bound away through the trees. By and by he came back, bringing\nthe body of a Hare which he had killed. He laid it down where old King\nBear had left a footprint in the soft earth and then, with his long tail\ntwitching, he looked this way and that way to make sure that no one had\nseen him and then bounded away.\n\n\u201cThe next day Old Mother Nature called all the people of the forest\nbefore her, and they all came, for none dared stay away. When they were\nall there, she had each in turn look her straight in the face while she\nasked if they had hunted fairly and honorably and only when they were\nhungry. Each in turn looked her straight in the face and said that he\nhad until it came the turn of Mr. Panther. Mr. Panther's tail twitched\nnervously, and he looked everywhere but at Old Mother Nature as she put\nthe question to him.\n\n\u201c'Look me straight in the face and tell me on your honor that you have\nhunted fairly,' commanded Old Mother Nature. Mr. Panther knew that all\neyes were upon him, and he tried his best to look her in the face, but\nhe couldn't do it. You see, he hadn't any honor. He had lost it, and\nwithout honor no one can look another straight in the face. Instead he\nturned and began to slink away, and all who saw him wondered how they\never could have thought him kingly-looking.\n\n\u201cThen Old Mother Nature told what she had seen the day before, and at\nonce everybody understood who it was that had been doing the killing and\ntrying to make it appear that it was old King Bear, and they all turned\nand shouted 'Coward! Sneak! Coward! Sneak!' until Mr. Panther fairly ran\nto get out of hearing. From that time on he lived by himself and would\nnot look even timid Mr. Hare in the face. Instead of hunting openly and\nboldly like Mr. Wolf, he sneaked about in the forest and hunted by\nstealth, so that all the people of the forest looked on him with scorn,\nand though most of them feared him, they called him a coward and they\nnicknamed him 'Sneak-cat.'\n\n\u201cAnd to this day all Panthers have been the same, sneaking and cowardly\nin spite of their great size and strength, for it has been in their\nblood ever since the time when old Mr. Panther lost his honor,\u201d ended\nJumper.\n\nPeter was silent for a minute. Then he said softly: \u201cI'm little and\ntimid, but I'd rather be that way than to be big like Puma but a coward\nand a sneak. I can look any one in the face.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nV. WHEN OLD MR. RAT BECAME AN OUTCAST\n\n|Robber the brown rat is an outcast among the little people of the Green\nMeadows and the Green Forest. You know an outcast is one with whom no\none else will have anything to do. No one speaks to Robber. Whoever\nmeets him pretends not to even see him, unless it happens to be one of\nthe Hawk family or one of the Owl family or Shadow the Weasel. If one\nof these sees him, it is well for Robber to find a safe hiding-place\nwithout any loss of time.\n\nBut the rest of the little meadow and forest people turn their backs on\nRobber and get out of his way, partly because many of them are afraid of\nhim, and partly because they despise him and consider him quite beneath\nthem. He hasn't a single friend among them, not even among his own\nrelatives. The latter are ashamed of him. If they could help it, they\nwouldn't even admit that they are related to him. Just mention him to\nthem, and right away they will begin to talk about something else. Wag\nthe Wood Rat and Bounder the Kangeroo Rat are very different fellows and\nare well liked, but Robber the Brown Rat is hated. Yes, Sir, he is hated\neven by his own relatives, which, you will agree, is a dreadful state of\naffairs.\n\nPeter Rabbit had heard of Robber but never had seen him until one\nmoonlight night he happened to go up to Farmer Brown's barn just out of\ncuriosity. He saw a hole under the barn and was trying to decide whether\nor not to go in and find out what was inside when who should come out\nbut Robber himself. His coat was so rough and untidy, he was so dirty,\nhe smelled so unclean, and he looked so savage that Peter at once\ndecided that he wasn't interested in that barn and took himself off to\nthe Green Forest, lip-perty-lipperty-lip, as fast as he could go. All\nthe rest of the night he thought about Robber the Brown Rat, and the\nvery next day he hurried over to the Smiling Pool to ask Grandfather\nFrog how it was that Robber had become such a disreputable fellow with\nnot a single friend.\n\nGrandfather Frog had had a good breakfast of foolish green flies and was\nfeeling in the very best of humor.\n\n\u201cChug-a-rum!\u201d said he, \u201cRobber the Brown Rat is an outcast because he is\nall bad. His father was all bad, and his father's father, and so on way\nback to the beginning of things when the world was young. There was no\ngood in any of them, and there is no good in Robber. He is a disgrace to\nthe whole race of meadow and forest people, and so he lives only where\nman lives, and I have heard that he is as much hated by man as by the\nrest of us.\n\n\u201cWay back when the world was young, his\ngreat-great-ever-so-great-grandfather, who was the first of his race,\nlived with the rest of the little people in the Green Forest, and Old\nMother Nature gave him the same chance to make an honest living that she\ngave to the rest. For a while Mr. Rat was honest. He was honest just\nas long as it was easier to be honest than dishonest. But when the hard\ntimes came of which you know, and food became scarce, Mr. Rat was too\nlazy to even try to earn his own living. He discovered that it was\neasier to steal from his neighbors. He wasn't at all particular whom he\nstole from, but he took from big and little alike. He was so sly about\nit that for a long time no one found him out.\n\n\u201cBy and by his neighbors began to wonder how it was that Mr. Rat always\nseemed fat and well fed and yet never was seen to work. But Mr. Rat was\ntoo crafty to be caught stealing. He said he didn't need much to live\non, which was an untruth, for he was a very greedy fellow. Now laziness\nis a habit that grows. First Mr. Rat was too lazy to work for his\nliving. Then, little by little, he grew too lazy to be crafty.\nHe grew bolder and bolder in his stealing, until at last he just took\nwhat he pleased from those who were smaller than he. Being well fed,\nhe was strong. All the little people of his own size and smaller feared\nhim. The bigger people said it was no business of theirs, so long as he\ndidn't steal from them. All the time he _was_ stealing from them, but\nhadn't been caught.\n\n\u201cFinally he grew too lazy to keep himself looking neat. His coat was\nalways unbrushed and untidy-looking. He was always dirty. You see, it\nwas too much work to even wash his face and hands. There was always food\nsticking to his whiskers. The little people kept away from him because\nthey were afraid of him. The bigger people would have nothing to do with\nhim because they were ashamed of him, ashamed to be seen in his company.\n\n[Illustration: 0087]\n\n\u201cSo lazy Mr. Rat grew dirtier in his habits, bolder in his stealing,\nand impudent to everybody. He became quarrelsome. It was about this time\nthat the bigger people found him out.\n\n\u201cMr. Lynx had secured the first meal he had had in a week. Part of it he\nput away for the next day. Before going to bed he went to have a look at\nit. Some of it was gone.\n\n\u201c'That's queer,' muttered Mr. Lynx. 'I wonder who there is who dares to\nsteal from me.'\n\n\u201cMr. Lynx hid where he could watch what was left of that meal. By and by\nhe grew sleepy. He was just dozing off when he heard a noise. There was\nMr. Rat carrying off part of what was left of that meal. With a snarl of\nanger Mr. Lynx leaped out. But Mr. Rat was too quick for him. He slipped\ninto a hole. Mr. Lynx grabbed at him and caught him by the tail. Mr.\nRat pulled and Mr. Lynx pulled. But Mr. Rat's tail was slippery, and Mr.\nLynx couldn't hold on. He did, however, pull all the hair from it.\n\n\u201cOf course, Mr. Lynx told what had happened, and after that Mr. Rat did\nnot dare show himself at all when the bigger people were about. So he\nlived in holes and continued to steal. Finally old King Bear called a\nmeeting, and it was decided to drive Mr. Rat out of the Green Forest and\noff the Green Meadows. Little Mr. Weasel said that he was not afraid of\nMr. Rat, and he would go into all the holes and drive Mr. Rat out. So\nMr. Weasel went into hole after hole until at last he found Mr. Rat. Mr.\nRat tried to fight, but he found that little Mr. Weasel was so slim and\ncould move so quickly that he couldn't get hold of him. So at last Mr.\nRat was forced to run to save his life.\n\n\u201cThe minute he appeared all the others, big and little, started for him.\nMr. Rat gave one look, and then, with a squeal of fright, he ran with\nall his might, dodging into one hiding-place after another, only to be\nchased out of each. And so at last he turned away from the Green Forest\nand the Green Meadows and ran to the homes of men, where he hid in dark\nplaces and stole from men as he formerly had stolen from his neighbors\nof the Green Forest. And because men are wasteful and allow much food\nto spoil, Mr. Rat found plenty to fill his stomach, such as it was, but\noften it was such as no one else would have touched.\n\n\u201cOnce or twice he tried to get back to the Green Forest, but as soon as\nhe was discovered he was driven back, and at last he gave up trying. He\ngrew more dirty than ever, and finding everybody, even man, against him,\nhe became savage of temper, living wholly by stealing, evil to look at\nand evil to come near, for in the dirt of his coat be carried sickness\nfrom place to place. In no place in all the Great World could he find a\nwelcome.\n\n\u201cHis children followed in his footsteps, and his children's children.\nOld Mother Nature became so disgusted with them that she said that they\nshould always remain outcasts until they should mend their ways. But\nthis they never did, and so Robber the Brown Rat is an outcast to-day,\nlooked down on and hated by every living thing. There is none to say\na good word for him. And to this day the tails of Robber's family have\nbeen almost bare of hair as a reminder of how old Mr. Rat of long ago\ncame to be driven out of the Green Forest. Now are you satisfied, Peter\nRabbit?\u201d concluded Grandfather Frog.\n\n\u201cYes, indeed, and I thank you ever so much,\u201d declared Peter. \u201cUgh! It\nmust be dreadful to be despised and hated by all the Great World. I\nwouldn't be in Robber's place for anything.\u201d\n\n\u201cChug-a-rum! I should hope not!\u201d said Grandfather Frog.\n\n\n\n\nVI. WHEN MR. MOOSE LOST HIS HORNS\n\n|PETER RABBIT had just seen Flathorns the Moose for the first time, and\nPeter was having hard work to believe that there wasn't something the\nmatter with his eyes. Indeed they looked as if something was the matter\nwith them, for they seemed about to pop right out of his head. If any\none had _told_ Peter that any one as big as Flathorns lived in the Great\nWoods, he wouldn't have believed it, but now that he had _seen_ that it\nwas so, he just had to believe. So Peter sat with his eyes popping out\nand his mouth gaping wide open in the most foolish way as he stared in\nthe direction in which Flathorns had gone.\n\n\u201cBig, isn't he?\u201d\n\nPeter looked up to see Blacky the Crow in the top of a birch-tree just\nat one side, and Blacky, too, was looking after Flathorns. Then Blacky\nlooked down at Peter and began to laugh. \u201cDon't try to swallow him,\nPeter!\u201d said he.\n\n[Illustration: 0099]\n\nPeter closed his mouth with a snap.\n\n\u201cMy, but he _is_ big!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cI never felt so small in all my\nlife as when I first caught sight of him. What queer horns he has!\nI suppose they are horns, for he carries them on his head just as\nLightfoot the Deer does his. They are so big I should think they would\nmake his head ache.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps they do, and that is why he drops them every spring and grows a\nnew pair during the summer,\u201d replied Blacky.\n\n\u201cDrops them! Drops those great horns and grows new ones in a single\nsummer! Do you mean to tell me that hard things like those horns grow?\nAnd what do you mean by saying that he drops them every spring? Why, I\nsaw him banging them against a tree just now, and I guess if they ever\nwere coming off they would have come off then. You can't fool me with\nany such story as that, Blacky!\u201d\n\n\u201cHave it your own way, Peter,\u201d replied Blacky. \u201cSome people never can\nbelieve a thing until they see it with their own eyes. All I've got to\nsay is just keep an eye on Flathorns in the spring and then remember\nwhat I've told you.\u201d Before Peter could reply Blacky had spread his\nwings, and with a harsh \u201cCaw, caw, caw,\u201d had flown away.\n\nOf course, after that Peter was very very curious about Flathorns the\n\nMoose, and he just ached all over to ask about those horns. But every\ntime he saw them the idea that they ever would or could come off seemed\nso impossible that he held his tongue. You see, he didn't want to be\nlaughed at. So the winter passed, and Peter was no wiser than before.\nThen the spring came, and one never-to-be-forgotten day Peter was\nhurrying along, lipperty-lipperty-lip, when right in front of him lay\nsomething that made him stop short and stare even harder than he had\nstared the first time he saw Flat-horns. What was it? Why, it was one\nof those very horns he had thought so much about! Yes, Sir, that is just\nwhat it was.\n\nEven then Peter couldn't believe it was so. He couldn't believe it until\nhe had hunted up Flathorns himself and seen with his own eyes that\nthere were no longer any horns on that great head. Then Peter _had_ to\nbelieve. It seemed to Peter the strangest thing he ever had heard of.\nThere must be a reason, and if there were, Grandfather Frog would be\nsure to know it. So every day Peter visited the Smiling Pool to see if\nGrandfather Frog had wakened from his long winter sleep. At last one day\nhe found him and could hardly wait to tell him how glad he was to see\nhim once more and to be properly polite before he asked him about those\nhorns of Flat-horns the Moose.\n\n\u201cChug-a-rum!\u201d said Grandfather Frog. \u201cIt's pretty early in the season to\nbe asking me for a story, but seeing it is you, Peter, and that you've\nwaited all winter for it, I'll tell it to you. Way, way back in\nthe days when the world was young, the first Moose, the\ngreat-great-ever-so-great-grandfather of Flathorns, was the biggest of\nall the animals in the Green Forest, but he had no horns, and he was\nsuch a homely fellow that everybody laughed at him and made fun of him.\nNow nothing hurts quite so much as being laughed at.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know,\u201d interrupted Peter.\n\n\u201cMr. Moose felt so badly about it that he used to hide away and keep out\nof sight all he possibly could,\u201d continued Grandfather Frog. \u201cBig as he\nwas and strong as he was, he would turn and run away to hide from\neven such little people as Mr. Skunk and Mr. Squirrel and your\never-so-great-grand-father, Mr. Rabbit. He just couldn't bear to be\nlaughed at. Old Mother Nature kept her eye on him and at last she took\npity on him and crowned his head with the most wonderful horns, horns so\nbig that no one smaller than Mr. Moose could possibly have carried them.\n\n\u201cThen Mr. Moose threw up his head and carried it proudly, for now no one\nlaughed at him. He marched through the Great Woods boldly, and even\nold King Bear, who was king no longer, stepped aside respectfully. Then\npride entered into Mr. Moose; pride in his wonderful horns; pride in\nhis great strength. He feared no one. He beat the bushes with his great\nhorns and bellowed until the Great Woods rang with his voice, and all\nthose who had once laughed at him hid in fear. He proclaimed himself\nking of the Great Woods, and no one dared to deny it.\n\n\u201cSo he came and went when and where he pleased and felt himself every\ninch a king and carried his great horns as a crown. One day in the\nbeginning of the springtime, he came face to face with Old Mother\nNature. Once he would have bowed to her very humbly, but by now he had\ngrown so proud and haughty that instead of stepping aside for her to\npass, he boldly marched on with his head held high as if he did not see\nher. It was Old Mother Nature who stepped aside. She said nothing, but\nas he passed she reached forth and touched his great horns and they fell\nfrom his head, and with them fell all his pride and haughtiness. At once\nsome of his neighbors who had been hiding near and had seen all that had\nhappened began to mock him and make fun of him and laugh at him.\n\n\u201cThen, with his head hung low in shame, did Mr. Moose slink away and\nhide as he had done in the beginning, and none could find him save Old\nMother Nature. Very humble was Mr. Moose when she visited him; all his\npride was melted away in shame. Old Mother Nature was sorry for him.\nShe promised him that he should have new horns, but that once a year he\nshould lose his horns lest he should forget and again become over-proud\nand haughty. So while he kept hidden, the new horns grew and grew until\nthey were greater and more wonderful than the ones he had had before.\nThen Mr. Moose once more came forth, holding his head high and glorying\nin his strength, and all his neighbors treated him with the greatest\nrespect, quite as if he were really king of the Great Woods.\n\n\u201cBut he never forgot what Old Mother Nature had said to him, and when\nthe spring came, he slipped away and hid lest he should be seen without\nthe glory of his horns, for in his heart he knew that Old Mother Nature\nwould keep her word. Sure enough, his great horns dropped off, and in\nhumbleness and patience he waited for new horns to grow. So it was all\nthe years of his life, and so it has been with his children and his\ngrandchildren even to this day, and so it is with Flathorns, and so it\nwill be with his children. And the Moose family never have forgotten and\nnever can forget that there is nothing so foolish as pride in personal\nappearance.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that all?\u201d asked Peter, as Grandfather Frog stopped.\n\n\u201cIsn't that enough?\u201d demanded Grandfather Frog testily. \u201cJust think\nit over a while, and when you are tempted to be proud and haughty just\nremember the horns of Mr. Moose and what happened to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you ever so much for the story,\u201d replied Peter politely as he\nhopped away. Half way to the dear Old Briar-patch he paused. \u201cIt served\nold Mr. Moose just right!\u201d he declared to no one in particular. And so\nit did.\n\n\n\n\nVII. WHEN MR. KINGFISHER TOOK TO THE GROUND\n\n|PETER RABBIT had taken it into his funny little head to wander down\nthe Laughing Brook below the Smiling Pool. It was open there, and in one\nplace the bank was quite high and steep. Peter sat down on the edge of\nit and looked down. Right under him the Laughing Brook was very quiet\nand clear. Peter sat gazing down into it. He could see all the pebbles\non the bottom and queer little plants growing among them. It seemed very\nqueer, very queer indeed to Peter that plants, real plants, could be\ngrowing down there under water. Somehow he couldn't make it seem right\nthat anything but fish should be able to live down there.\n\nSo Peter sat gazing down, lost in a sort of day-dream. The Jolly Little\nSunbeams made beautiful lights and shadows in the water. Everything was\nso peaceful and beautiful that Peter quite forgot he was sitting right\nout in the open where Redtail the Hawk might spy him. He just gave\nhimself up to dreams, day-dreams, you know. Presently those day-dreams\nwere very, very near to being sleep-dreams. Yes, Sir, they were. Peter\nactually was nodding. His big eyes would close, open, close again,\nopen and then close for a little longer. Suddenly a sharp and very loud\nnoise, which seemed to come from right under his very toes, put an\nend to all nodding and dreaming. It was a long, harsh rattle, and it\nstartled Peter so that he almost jumped out of his skin. Anyway, he\njumped straight up in the air, and the wonder was that he didn't tumble\nheadfirst down that steep bank right into the Laughing Brook. A queer\nprickly feeling ran all over him. He blinked his eyes rapidly. Then he\nsaw a handsome blue and white and gray bird, with a head that looked too\nbig for his body, flying up the Laughing Brook just above the water, and\nas he flew he made that sharp, harsh, rattling noise which had startled\nPeter so. Abruptly he paused in his flight, hovered over the water an\ninstant, shot down, and disappeared with a tinkling little splash. A\nsecond later he was in the air again, and in his stout, spear-like bill\nwas a gleaming, silvery thing. It was a little fish, a minnow.\n\n[Illustration: 0115]\n\n\u201cRattles the Kingfisher!\u201d exclaimed Peter, as he watched him fly over\nto a tree, pound the fish on a branch, and then go through the funniest\nperformance as he tried to swallow the minnow whole. \u201cNow where did he\ncome from?\u201d continued Peter. \u201cIt certainly seemed to me that he came\nfrom right under my very feet, but there isn't so much as a twig down\nthere.\u201d\n\nPeter poked his head over the edge of the bank. No, there wasn't a\nsingle thing down there on which Rattles could have been sitting. He was\nstill wondering about it when his wobbly little nose caught a smell, a\nvery unpleasant smell. It was the smell of fish, and it seemed to come\nfrom right under him. He leaned a little farther over the edge of the\nbank, and then he gave a funny little gasp. There was a _hole_ in the\nbank only a few inches below him, and the smell certainly came from that\nhole.\n\nCould it be, could it possibly be that Rattles had come out of that\nhole? It certainly seemed so, and yet Peter couldn't quite believe it.\nThe very idea of a bird living in a hole in the ground!\n\n\u201cI don't believe it! I don't, so there!\u201d exclaimed Peter right out loud.\n\n\u201cWhat is it you don't believe?\u201d asked a voice. Peter looked down.\nThere was Little Joe Otter looking up at him from the water, his eyes\ntwinkling.\n\n\u201cI don't believe that Rattles the Kingfisher came out of that hole, yet\nI don't see where else he could have come from,\u201d replied Peter.\n\nLittle Joe chuckled. \u201cThat's where he came from, even if you don't\nbelieve it,\u201d said he. \u201cI don't suppose you will believe that he dug that\nhole himself, either.\u201d\n\nPeter's eyes opened very wide. \u201cI--I'll believe it if you say on your\nhonor that it realty is so,\u201d he replied slowly.\n\n\u201cOn my honor it really is so,\u201d said Little Joe Otter, his eyes\ntwinkling more than ever. \u201cPerhaps you would like to know how the\ngreat-great-grandfather of Rattles the Kingfisher happened to take the\nground for a home.\u201d\n\nPeter's eyes fairly danced. \u201cDo tell me, Little Joe! Oh, please tell\nme!\u201d he exclaimed.\n\nLittle Joe climbed out of the water on a rock just below Peter and\nsettled himself comfortably.\n\n\u201cOnce upon a time,\u201d he began.\n\n\u201cIn the beginning of things,\u201d prompted Peter.\n\n\u201cYes, in the beginning of things,\u201d replied Little Joe, \u201cway back when\nthe world was young, lived the very first of the Kingfisher family.\nFrom the very beginning Mr. Kingfisher was a very independent fellow.\nHe cared nothing about his neighbors. That is, he was not social. He was\npolite enough, but he preferred his own company and was never happier\nthan when he was by himself. Of course, his neighbors soon found this\nout. They called him odd and queer, and soon refused to even speak to\nhim. This just suited Mr. Kingfisher, and he went about his business\nvery well content to be let alone. He spent his days fishing, and,\nbecause there were few other fishermen, he always had plenty to eat. At\nnight he found a comfortable roost in a tree, and so for a time he was\nperfectly contented.\n\n\u201cBy and by he discovered that most of his neighbors were building homes.\nAt first he gave little attention to this, but after a while, seeing how\nhappy they were, he began to think about a home for himself. The more he\nthought about it, the more he wanted one. But underneath Mr.\nKingfisher's pointed cap were very clever wits. He would do nothing\nhastily. So he flew up and down the brook, appearing to do nothing but\nfish, but all the time he was keeping his eyes open, and there were no\nsharper eyes than those of Mr. Kingfisher.\n\n\u201cHe was watching his neighbors work to see where and how they made\ntheir homes. He saw some of the birds building nests in the trees, some\nbuilding them in the bushes, and a few building right on the ground.\n\n\u201cOf all he saw he liked best the home of Drummer the Woodpecker. 'That\nfellow has the right idea,' thought he. 'He cuts a hole in a tree; he is\ndry; he is warm; and no one can get at him there. If I build a home,\nthat is the kind of place I want. He has got what I call plain sense,\nplain common sense!'\n\n\u201cAfter this Mr. Kingfisher watched until he was quite sure that no one\nwas around to see him, and then he tried to make a hole in a tree as he\nhad seen Drummer the Woodpecker do. But right away he discovered that\ntwo things were wrong; his bill was not made for cutting wood, and his\nfeet were not big enough or the right shape for clinging to the side of\na tree. Mr. Kingfisher was disappointed, very much disappointed. A hole\nseemed to him the only kind of a place for a home. He was thinking it\nover when he happened to discover Mr. Muskrat digging a hole in the\nbank. At first he didn't pay much attention. Then all in a flash an\nidea, a wonderful idea, came to him. Why shouldn't he have a home in the\nground? No one in the wide world would ever think of looking for the\nhome of a bird in the ground. With a rattle of joy, Mr. Kingfisher flew\noff up the brook to a steep, sandy bank of which he knew.\n\n\u201c'Just the place! Just the very place!' he cried. 'I'll make a hole just\na little way from the top. No one will see it except from below, and it\nwill be hard work for any one to climb up that sandy bank.'\n\n\u201cHe flew straight at the spot he had selected and drove his big\nspear-like bill into it. Then he did it again and again. That bill\nwouldn't cut wood like the bill of Drummer the Woodpecker, but it\ncertainly would cut into a sandy bank. In a little while he had room to\ncling with his feet. Then he could work faster and more easily. Pretty\nsoon he had a hole deep enough to get into. He would loosen the earth\nwith his hill and scrape it out with his feet. He was so pleased with\nhis discovery that he kept right on working. He almost forgot to eat.\nAll the time he could spare from fishing, he spent digging. Day after\nday he worked. When he had a hole three or four feet straight into the\nbank, he made a turn in it and then kept on digging. When he had gone\nfar enough in, he made a little bedroom.\n\n\u201cAt last the house was done. Mr. Kingfisher chuckled happily. No one\ncould get at him there. He had the best and safest home he knew of. It\nwas better than the home of Drummer the Woodpecker. If Mr. Mink happened\nto find it, and Mr. Kingfisher could think of no one else who would be\nlikely to, there would be nothing to fear, for Mr. Mink would never dare\nface that sharp hill in such a narrow place.\n\n\u201cIt all worked out just as Mr. Kingfisher thought it would. No one\ndreamed of looking in the ground for his home, and for a long, long time\nhe kept his secret so well that his neighbors thought he had no home,\nand called him 'Rattles the Homeless.' From that day to this the\nKingfishers have made their homes in the ground,\u201d concluded Little Joe\nOtter.\n\n\u201cIsn't it wonderful?\u201d exclaimed Peter, as he watched Rattles dive\ninto the water and catch a silvery minnow. \u201cI didn't know that any one\nwearing feathers had so much sense.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere's a great deal you don't know, Peter,\u201d replied Little Joe Otter,\nsliding into the water.\n\n\n\n\nVIII. WHEN OLD MR. BADGER LEARNED TO STAY AT HOME\n\n|THE first time Peter Rabbit saw Digger the Badger, he laughed at him.\nYes, Sir, Peter laughed at him. He laughed until he had to hold his\nsides. When he got back to the dear Old Briar-patch, he told little Mrs.\nPeter all about Digger. That is, he told her all that he had seen, which\nwas really very little indeed about Digger, as he found out later.\n\n\u201cI found him away over on the Green Meadows in a place where I have\nnever been before, and I almost stepped on him before I saw him.\nYou should have seen me jump. I guess it is lucky I did, too, for he\ncertainly has got the wickedest-looking teeth, and I didn't like the way\nhe snarled. Then at a safe distance I sat down and laughed. I just had\nto. Why, his legs are so short and his coat hangs down so on each side\nthat he doesn't seem to have any legs at all. And as for shape, he\nhasn't any. He is so broad and flat that he looks as if something big\nand heavy had passed over him and rolled him out flat. But how he can\ndig! If Johnny Chuck should ever see him digging, Johnny would die of\nenvy. I'm going over there again to learn more about him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou'd better stay at home and mind your own affairs,\u201d replied little\nMrs. Peter tartly. \u201cNo good comes of poking into the affairs of other\npeople.\u201d This is true, and Peter knows it, but he just couldn't keep\naway from that part of the Green Meadows where he had discovered Digger\nthe Badger. The more he saw of Digger, the greater became his curiosity\nabout him. The less Peter can find out for himself about any one, the\nmore curious he becomes, and all he could find out about Digger was that\nhe slept most of the day, never went far from home, could dig faster\nthan any one Peter had ever heard of, was short-tempered, and was\ntreated with respect by all his neighbors, even Old Man Coyote, who\nseemed to know him very well.\n\nAll this made Peter more curious than ever, so one day, when Old Man\nCoyote happened along by the Old Briar-patch, Peter ventured to ask him\nabout Digger the Badger. Old Man Coyote happened to be feeling in fine\nhumor, for he had just eaten a good dinner. So he sat down just outside\nthe dear Old Briar-patch, and this is what he told Peter:\n\n\u201cDigger is an old friend of mine, and I would advise you to treat him\nwith the greatest respect, Peter, because if you don't, and he ever gets\nhis claws on you, that will be the end of you. I wouldn't care to get in\na fight with him myself, big as I am. You may have noticed that no one\never bothers him.\u201d Peter nodded, and Old Man Coyote continued: \u201cI don't\nknow of any one who minds his own business and keeps his nose out of\nthe affairs of other people as Digger does. Greatest homebody I know of,\nunless it's Johnny Chuck, and even Johnny wanders off once in a while.\nBut Digger never gets very far from his own doorstep. Says there is no\nplace like home, and he can't see what anybody wants to leave the best\nplace in the world for, even if they can come back to it.\u201d\n\nMrs. Peter reached over and poked Peter in the back, but he didn't even\nlook at her. You know, she is always trying to keep Peter from roaming\nabout so. Old Man Coyote went on with his story.\n\n\u201cIt isn't because Digger is afraid. Goodness, no! I don't know of any\none better able to take care of himself than Digger the Badger. I guess\nit is because his family always have been home-lovers. I've heard my\ngrandfather tell how Digger's grandfather was just the same as Digger\nis, and how he had heard his grandfather say the same thing about\nDigger's grandfather's grandfather. They say that the very first Badger,\nwho founded the family way back in the days when the world was young,\nstarted this home-staying habit, and that all Badgers ever since then\nhave been just like him. Digger is terribly proud of his family and of\nold Mr. Badger, who founded it so long ago. I don't know as I wonder at\nit. Old Mr. Badger certainly had more sense than some of his neighbors.\n\n\u201cYou see, when Old Mother Nature first turned him loose in the Great\nWorld, he felt that she had not been at all fair in her treatment of\nhim. His legs were so short and he was so broad and flat that everybody\nor nearly everybody laughed at him and good-naturedly poked fun at him.\nHe pretended not to care, but he did care, just the same. No one really\nlikes to be laughed at for something he cannot help. Mr. Badger would\nwatch his neighbors, Mr. Wolf and Mr. Fox and Mr. Rabbit and others,\nrun and jump, and then he would try to do as they did, and he couldn't\nbecause his legs were so short and so clumsy. He would sit for hours\nadmiring the graceful forms of his neighbors and comparing them with his\nown homely shape. He would wonder what Old Mother Nature could have been\nthinking of when she made him.\n\n\u201cBut he didn't say so to her. No, indeed! He kept his thoughts to\nhimself and never let his neighbors know that he envied them in the\nleast. One day he wandered out from the Green Forest on to the Green\nMeadows. He liked it out there. He liked to look up and see so much\nof the blue, blue sky all at once. He liked to look off and see a long\ndistance. Of course, he couldn't do that in the Green Forest because of\nthe trees. He liked being by himself because he felt so sensitive about\nhis homely shape. He discovered that if he lay down flat on his stomach\nwhen any one came near, he was always passed unnoticed. Being so broad\nand flat and altogether shapeless, he could remain unseen right out\nthere on the open Green Meadows even when the grass was short, and\nthat was something that Mr. Wolf and Mr. Fox and even little Mr.\nRabbit couldn't do. It pleased him. He began to be less envious of his\nneighbors.\n\n\u201cThen one never-to-be-forgotten day the Red Terror, which men call fire,\nbroke loose in the Green Forest, and all the little people fled before\nit. Across the meadows and past old Mr. Badger they raced, with fear in\ntheir eyes, and behind them came the Red Terror. A terrible fear sprang\nup in the heart of Mr. Badger. With those short legs he never in the\nworld could run fast enough to escape. What should he do? What _could_\nhe do? He looked at the great claws on his stout feet, and all in a\nflash an idea came to him. Perhaps if he dug a hole and crawled into it,\nthe Red Terror would not find him. At once he began to dig, and how the\ndirt did fly! In just no time at all he was quite out of sight, and by\nthe time the Red Terror had reached there, he was so far down in the\nground that he didn't even feel the heat.\n\n\u201cWhen it was all over and the earth had cooled off so that he could come\nout, he sat on the pile of dirt in front of his hole and did some hard\nthinking. He looked at his stout legs and long claws, and all at once it\ncame over him that Old Mother Nature had not been so unfair after all.\nShe had provided him with a means to take care of himself which he\nwouldn't exchange with any of his neighbors for all their speed and\nbetter looks. Later, when he saw how some of them were worn out with\nrunning, and some of them even had burned places on their coats, the\nlast bit of envy disappeared.\n\n\u201c'I guess,' said he to himself, 'Old Mother Nature has given each one\nspecial blessings, but she expects us to find them out for ourselves.\nI've found mine out, some of them, anyway, and I'll just get busy and\nlook for the rest. I'm going straight over to the prettiest part of the\nGreen Meadows where the Red Terror hasn't been and dig myself a house in\nthe ground. There is no place like a good home, so what is the good of\nroaming around? My legs were not intended for that, and those who have\ngot longer legs can do it if they want to.'\n\n\u201cHe did just what he said he would do. He practised digging until he was\nthe best digger of all the little people. The more he dug, the stouter\nand stronger his legs became, and soon he found that all his neighbors\nrespected his strength, and none would quarrel with him. Because he\ncould get plenty to eat near his home, he never went far from his\ndoorstep, and from that time on he lived in perfect safety and\ncontentment. He brought his children up to do the same thing, and if you\nshould go over and ask Digger to-day, he would tell you that there is no\nplace like home, and that he envies no one. I'm glad, however, that not\nevery one agrees with him, or I should have hard work to get a living,\u201d\n concluded Old Man Coyote with a sly wink at Mrs. Peter.\n\n\n\n\nIX. WHEN BOB WHITE WON HIS NAME\n\n|THIS isn't the story of the Bob White you know, and yet when I think\nit over, I don't know but that it is, after all. It is the story of the\nfirst Bob White, the great-great-great-ever-so-great-grand-father of\nthe Bob White you know and I know and everybody who ever has heard his\nwhistle knows. It is a story of that long-ago time, way back in the\nbeginning of things, when the world was young, and yet I guess\nit is just as much our own Bob White's story as it is his\ngreat-great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather's. You see, it is because\nof it, of what happened in that long-ago time, that Bob White _is_ Bob\nWhite. So that makes it his story too, doesn't it? Anyway, I'll tell you\nthe story and leave it to you to decide.\n\nOld Mother West Wind told me the story, and she got it from Peter\nRabbit, and Peter got it from--well, I don't know for sure, but I\nsuspect he got it from Bob White himself. You know Peter and Bob White\nare great friends. They are very near neighbors. They are such near\nneighbors and such good friends that if it popped into Peter's funny\nlittle head to be curious about Bob White's affairs, he wouldn't\nhesitate an instant to ask Bob about them. Anyway, some one told Peter\nthe story, and I like to think that that some one was none other than\nthat brown-coated little whistler, Bob White the Quail, himself. Here is\nthe story as Old Mother West Wind told it to me:\n\n\u201cLong, long ago, way back in the beginning of things, when the world was\nyoung, when the Green Meadows were new, and the Green Forest was new,\nand the Smiling Pool and the Laughing Brook and the Big River were new,\nand the little and big people whom Old Mother Nature put in them to\nlive were new too, being the very first each of his kind, things were\ndifferent, quite different from what they are now. Old Mother Nature\nwas busier than she is now, and goodness knows she is busy enough these\ndays. In fact, she is a million times busier than the busiest other\nperson in all the Great World. If she wasn't, if she grew tired or lazy\nor careless or anything like that, I am afraid things would go so wrong\nwith the Great World that they never, never could be righted again.\n\n\u201cBut in these far-away days in the beginning of things she was busier\nstill. It is always easier to keep things going after they are once\nstarted than it is to start them, and Old Mother Nature was just\nstarting things. So she started a great many of the little people off in\nlife, and told them to make the best of things as they found them in\nthe Great World and do as well as they could while she was attending to\nother matters.\n\n\u201cNow one of these little people was a plump little person\nin a coat of reddish-brown feathers. He was Mr. Quail, the\ngreat-great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather of all the Quails. To Mr.\nQuail, as to all the others, Old Mother Nature said: 'The Great World\nis new. There is a place in it for you, but you must find that place\nfor yourself. There is work for you to do, but you must find out for\nyourself what it is. When you have real need of anything come to me, but\ndon't bother me until you do have. No one who proves to be helpless or\nuseless will live long. Now run along and prove whether or not you have\na right to live.'\n\n\u201cSo little Mr. Quail went out among the other people in the Great World\nto try and find his place. All the other people were trying to find\ntheir places, and some of them were having a dreadful time doing it. A\ngreat many began by trying to do just what their neighbors did, which\nwas the very worst kind of a mistake. It was a pure waste of time. Worse\nstill, it wasn't making a place in the work of the Great World. Little\nMr. Quail's eyes were very bright, and he used them for all they were\nworth. His wits were quite as bright, and he used these the same way.\n\n\u201c'There are two things for me to find out,' said he to himself, 'what\nI can't do and what I can do. The sooner I find out what I can't do, the\nmore time I'll have to find out what I can do. I've got wings, and that\nmust mean that Old Mother Nature intends me to fly. I'm glad of that. It\nmust be fine to sail around up in the air and see all that is going on\ndown below.'\n\n\u201cUp overhead Ol' Mistah Buzzard was sailing 'round and 'round, high up\nin the sky, with hardly a motion of his broad wings. Little Mr. Quail\nwatched him a long time, and a great longing to do the same thing filled\nhim. At last he sprang into the air, and right then he made a discovery.\nYes, Sir, he made a discovery. He must beat his wings with all his might\nin order to stay in the air. When he stopped beating them and held them\nspread out as Ol' Mistah Buzzard did, he found that he simply sailed\na little way straight ahead and then began to come down. He must keep\nthose wings moving very fast or else come down to the ground. Then he\nmade another discovery. In a very little while his wings were so tired\nthat he just had to stop flying.\n\n\u201cLittle Mr. Quail squatted in the grass and panted for breath. He was\ndisappointed, terribly disappointed. 'It's plain to me that Old Mother\nNature doesn't intend that I shall spend my time sailing about in the\nair,' said he. He scratched his pretty little head thoughtfully. 'I can\nfly pretty fast for a short distance,' he continued, talking to himself,\n'but that is all. That must mean that I have been given wings for use\nonly in time of need. There are some birds flitting about in a tree.\nThey seem to be having a good time. I think I'll join them. If I can't\nsail about in the air, the next best thing will be flitting about in the\ntrees.'\n\n\u201cSo after he had rested a bit, little Mr. Quail flew to the tree\nwhere the other birds were flitting about, and there he made another\ndisappointing discovery. Try as he would, he couldn't flit about as\nthey did. Moreover, he didn't feel comfortable perched in a tree for any\nlength of time. It made his toes ache to bend them around the branch on\nwhich he was sitting. He watched the other birds, and his bright eyes\nsoon discovered that their feet were different from his feet. Their toes\nwere made to clutch twigs and hold them there comfortably, while his\nwere not. 'Old Mother Nature doesn't intend that I shall spend my time\nflitting about in trees,' said he sorrowfully, and flew down to the\nground once more.\n\n\u201cRight away his feet felt better. All the ache left them. It was good to\nbe on the ground. Pretty soon he began to run about. It was good to run\nabout. He felt as if he could run all day without getting tired. While\nhunting for food he discovered that if his toes were not made for\nperching in trees, they certainly were made for scratching over leaves\nand loose earth where stray seeds were hiding. Then he made still\nanother discovery. His coat was just the right color to make it hard\nwork for others to see him when he squatted down close to the ground. If\nan enemy did discover him, his stout little wings took him out of danger\nlike a bullet.\n\n\u201cLittle by little it came over him that he had found his place in the\nGreat World, which was on the ground most of the time. But he remembered\nwhat Old Mother Nature had said about work to do, and this worried him a\nlittle. One day he watched Mr. Toad catching bugs. Old Mr. Toad was\ngrumbling. 'I can't keep up with these pesky bugs,' said he. 'When I get\nmy stomach full, I have to wait for it to get empty again before I can\ncatch any more. But _they_ don't wait. _They_ keep right on eating all\nthe time, and there won't be any green things left if I don't have\nhelp.'\n\n[Illustration: 0153]\n\n\u201cLittle Mr. Quail grew thoughtful. Then he started in to help Old Mr.\nToad catch bugs so as to give the green things a chance to grow. He had\nfound work to do, and he did it with all his might. He forgot he ever\nhad wanted to sail around in the air or flit about in the trees. He had\nfound his place in the Great World, and he had found work to do, and\nalso he had found the secret of the truest happiness. He was so happy\nthat he had to tell his neighbors about it. So every morning, just\nbefore starting work, he would fly up on a stump and whistle with all\nhis might; what he tried to say was, 'All-all's right! All-all's right!'\nBut what his neighbors thought he said was, 'Bob-Bob White! Bob-Bob\nWhite!'\n\n\u201cSo they promptly called him Bob White and loved him for the cheer which\nhis clear whistle brought to them. When Old Mother Nature came to see\nhow things were getting on, she found little Mr. Quail the happiest and\nthe most useful of all the birds, and as she listened to his whistle,\nshe smiled and said: 'I love you, Bob White, and all the world shall\nlove you.' And all the world has loved him to this very day.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nX. WHEN TEENY-WEENY BECAME GRATEFUL\n\n|DID something move among the dead leaves along that old log, or was it\nthe wind that stirred them? Peter Rabbit stared very hard trying to find\nout. Not that it made the least bit of difference to Peter. It didn't.\nIf something alive had moved those leaves, that something was too small\nfor Peter to fear it. Probably it was a worm or a bug. It might have\nbeen a beetle. That looked like a good place for beetles. There was\nJimmy Skunk ambling down the Lone Little Path this very minute, and\nJimmy always appeared to be looking for beetles. Peter stared harder\nthan ever. A leaf moved. Another turned fairly over. There wasn't any\nwind just then. Dead leaves don't turn over of themselves, so there must\nbe something alive there.\n\n\u201cWhat has Peter on his mind this morning to make him stare so?\u201d asked\nJimmy Skunk as he ambled up.\n\nPeter grinned. \u201cI was just wondering,\u201d said he, \u201cif there are any fat\nbeetles under that log over there. Those dead leaves along the side of\nit have a way of moving once in a while without cause that I can see.\nThere! What did I tell you?\u201d\n\nSure enough, a couple of leaves had moved. Jimmy Skunk's eyes\nbrightened. He actually almost hurried over to that old log, and began\nto rake away the leaves. Suddenly he stopped and sniffed. At the same\ntime Peter thought he saw something dart in at the hollow end of that\nlog. It might have been a shadow, but Peter had a feeling that it\nwasn't. Jimmy Skunk sniffed once more and then deliberately turned his\nback on that old log, and with his nose turned up, his face the very\npicture of disgust and disappointment, he rejoined Peter.\n\n                   \u201cTeeny Weeny, clever and spry,\n\n                   Disappears while you wink an eye.'\n\nsaid Jimmy.\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d exclaimed Peter. \u201cIs that who it was? I suppose he was hunting\nbeetles himself. He's such a little mite of a fellow that I should think\na goodsized beetle could almost carry him away. I declare to goodness,\nI don't see how any one so small manages to live! Danny Meadow Mouse and\nWhitefoot the Wood Mouse are small enough, but they are giants compared\nwith Teeny Weeny the Shrew. They have a hard enough time keeping alive,\nand I should think that any one smaller would stand no chance at all.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you know Teeny Weeny very well?\u201d asked Jimmy.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d confessed Peter. \u201cI've seen him only a few times and then had no\nmore than a glimpse of him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd yet he lives right around here where you come and go every day,\u201d\n said Jimmy.\n\n\u201cI know it,\u201d replied Peter. \u201cI suppose it is because he is so small. He\ncan hide under next to nothing.\u201d Jimmy grinned. \u201cI don't see but what\nyou've answered yourself,\u201d he chuckled. \u201cIt's because he is so small\nthat Teeny Weeny manages to keep out of harm. He isn't very good eating,\nanyway, so I have heard say.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy? Because there isn't enough of him to make a bite?\u201d asked Peter.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Jimmy. \u201cOf course I don't know anything about it, but I've\nheard those who do say that a Shrew doesn't taste good, and that no one\nwho is at all particular about his food will touch one. I am told that\nHooty the Owl hunts Teeny Weeny, but Hooty isn't at all particular, you\nknow. If Teeny Weeny tastes the way he smells, I for one don't want to\ntry him.\u201d\n\nPeter laughed right out. He couldn't help it. The idea of Jimmy Skunk\nbeing fussy about smells was too funny.\n\n\u201cWhat are you laughing at?\u201d demanded Jimmy, suspiciously.\n\n\u201cAt the idea that any one so small can smell bad enough to make any\ndifference,\u201d replied Peter. \u201cI wonder how he comes to have that bad\nsmell.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt's a reward,\u201d replied Jimmy. \u201cIt's a reward handed down\nto him from the days when the world was young, and his\ngreat-great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather, the first Shrew, you know,\nwho was also called Teeny Weeny, was given it by Old Mother Nature,\nbecause he had sense enough to be grateful and to tell her that he was.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt's a story!\u201d cried Peter. \u201cIt's a story, and you've just got to tell\nit to me, Jimmy Skunk.\u201d\n\n\u201cSay please,\u201d grinned Jimmy.\n\n\u201cPlease, please, please, please,\u201d replied Peter. \u201cIf that isn't enough,\nI'll say it as many times more.\u201d\n\n\u201cI guess that will do, because after all it isn't so very much of a\nstory,\u201d returned Jimmy, scratching his head as if he were trying to stir\nup his memory.\n\n\u201cIt happened way back in the beginning of things that when Old Mother\nNature had about finished making the birds and the animals, she had just\na teeny weeny pinch of the stuff they were made of left over. Because\nshe couldn't then and can't now bear to be wasteful, she started to make\nsomething. First she started to make it into a very tiny mouse. Then she\nchanged her mind and started to make it into a tiny mole. Finally she\nchanged her mind again and made it into something like each but not just\nlike either, blew the breath of life into it, and set it free in the\ngreat world. That was Teeny Weeny, the first Shrew, and the smallest of\nall animals.\n\n\u201cFor a while Teeny Weeny wished that he hadn't been made at all. He\nwished that Old Mother Nature hadn't been so thrifty and saving. What\nwas the good of being an animal at all if he wasn't big enough to be\nrecognized as such? That's the way he felt about it for a while. It hurt\nhis feelings to have old King Bear say, after just missing him with his\ngreat foot. 'I beg your pardon, You are so tiny I thought you were a bug\nof some kind. Of course, I don't mind stepping on bugs, but I wouldn't\nstep on you for the world. Why don't you grow so that we can see you?'\n\n\u201c'Yes, why don't you?' asked old Mr. Wolf. 'If you get stepped on, don't\nblame us.' Even Mr. Meadow Mouse laughed at him because he was so\nsmall. Teeny Weeny was quite furious at that. So for a while he was very\nunhappy because he was so small. He ate and ate and ate, hoping that\nthis would make him grow bigger. But it didn't. He remained as small as\never, the smallest of all the four-footed people. And his temper didn't\nimprove. Not a bit. He was fretful and snappish. He said all sorts of\nthings about Old Mother Nature because she had made him so small. He\nalmost hated her. He couldn't see a single advantage in being so small.\n\n\u201cTime went on, and at length came the hard times of which you have\nheard, the times when food was so scarce and most of the little people\nwere always hungry. Then it was that the big and strong began to hunt\nthe small and weak, as you know. At first Teeny Weeny was in a regular\npanic of fear. He felt that because he was so small he hadn't any chance\nat all. But after a while he made a discovery, a most amazing discovery.\nIt quite took his breath away when he first realized it. It was that\nbecause he was so small he had more chance than some of those of whom he\nhad been envious. Because he was so small, he could slip out of sight in\na twinkling. He could slip into holes that no one else could get into. A\nleaf on the ground would hide him.\n\n\u201cThen he discovered that because he was so very small, it didn't take\nmuch food to fill his stomach, and he had no trouble in finding all he\nneeded to eat. While his neighbors were going hungry, he was fat and\ncomfortable. Bugs there were and worms there were in plenty, and\non these he lived. One day he saw Old Mother Nature, and she looked\nworried. She _was_ worried. It was in the very middle of the hard times\nand wherever she went, the little people of the Green Forest and the\nGreen Meadows crowded about her to complain and ask her help. Teeny\nWeeny remembered all the bitter things he had said and all the bitter\nthoughts he had had because she had made him so small, and he was\nashamed. Yes, Sir, he was ashamed. You see, he realized by this time\nthat his small size was his greatest blessing.\n\n\u201cWhat did Teeny Weeny do but march right straight up to Old Mother\nNature the first chance he got and tell her how grateful he was for what\nshe had done for him. He was quite honest. He told her how he had felt,\nand how he had said bitter things, and how sorry he was now that he\nunderstood how well off he was. Then he thanked her once more and turned\nto leave. Old Mother Nature called him back. She was wonderfully pleased\nto have these few words of thanks amid so many complaints.\n\n\u201c'Teeny Weeny,' said she, 'because you have been smart enough to\nsee, and honest enough to admit a blessing in what you had thought a\nhardship, and because you have been grateful instead of complaining, I\nherewith give you this musky odor, which will be distasteful to even the\nhungriest of your enemies. It is a further protection to you and your\nchildren and your children's children for ever and ever.'\n\n\u201cAnd so it was, and so it has been, and so it is, and that's all,\u201d\n concluded Jimmy Skunk.\n\n\n\n\nXI. WHEN OLD MR. HARE BECAME A TURNCOAT\n\n|TURNCOAT isn't considered a very nice name to call any one. You see, it\nis supposed to mean one who has turned traitor, as it were; has been on\none side and gone over to the other side. If a soldier who is fighting\nfor France should go over to the German army and fight for Germany\nagainst France, he would be a turncoat. Benedict Arnold, of whom you\nhave read in history, was a turncoat. But the meaning isn't always bad.\nJust take the case of Jumper the Hare. In summer he wears a coat of\nbrown, but in winter he wears a coat of white, the white of the pure\ndriven snow. So you see he is a turncoat, but in his case it doesn't\nmean anything bad at all. On the contrary, it means something rather\nnice and very interesting.\n\nNow you know Jumper is the cousin of Peter Rabbit and looks very much\nlike Peter, save that he is very much larger and has longer hind legs\nand longer ears. But Peter wears the same little homely brown coat in\nwinter that he does in summer, the only difference being that it is\nthicker and so warmer. I am afraid that Peter has sometimes let a little\nenvy creep into his heart when he has met his cousin wearing a coat of\npure white. Be that as it may, Peter puzzled over the matter a great\ndeal until he found out from Grandfather Frog how it happens that Jumper\nhas such a lovely winter coat.\n\nIt happened one evening in early June, when Peter was hopping along down\nthe Lone Little Path through the Green Forest, that he met Jumper and\nstopped to gossip for a few minutes. He had not seen Jumper since gentle\nSister South. Wind had swept away the last of the winter snow. Then\nJumper's coat had been white; now it was brown. This reminded Peter that\nhe never had been able to tease Jumper into telling him how he could\nchange his coat that way. None of Peter's other friends of the winter\nseemed to know, for he had asked all of them, and each had told him\nto ask Grandfather Frog. Of course, Peter couldn't do that in winter\nbecause Grandfather Frog was then fast asleep in the mud at the bottom\nof the Smiling Pool. With the coming of spring he had forgotten all\nabout the matter. Now at the sight of Jumper once more, it all came back\nto him.\n\nWhen Peter and Jumper parted, Peter started for the Smiling Pool,\nlip-perty-lipperty-lip. He arrived there quite out of breath.\nGrandfather Frog smiled a big, broad smile. Before Peter could say a\nword Grandfather Frog spoke.\n\n\u201cIf you will catch a foolish green fly for me, Peter, Ill tell you the\nstory,\u201d said he.\n\nFor a full minute Peter couldn't find his tongue, he was so surprised.\n\u201cHow do you know what story I want?\u201d he stammered at last.\n\n\u201cI don't know, but that doesn't make any difference,\u201d replied\nGrandfather Frog. \u201cCatch me a foolish green fly, and I'll tell you any\nstory you want.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut--but--but I can't catch foolish green flies,\u201d cried Peter. \u201cI would\nif I could, but I can't, and you know I can't.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can try,\u201d replied Grandfather Frog gruffly, but with a twinkle in\nhis eyes which Peter didn't see.\n\nPeter hesitated. Then suddenly he shut his lips in a way that meant\nthat he had made up his mind to something. He looked this way and that\nway. Whichever way he looked he saw foolish green flies flitting about.\nHe jumped for one and missed it. He jumped for another and missed it.\nIt was the beginning of such a funny performance that Grandfather Frog\nnearly rolled off his big green lily-pad with laughter. Peter raced and\njumped this way and that way on the banks of the Smiling Pool as if he\nhad gone quite crazy, and at last in his excitement jumped right into\nthe Smiling Pool itself after a foolish green fly. But not one did he\ncatch.\n\nAs he crawled out of the water, looking forlorn enough, Grandfather Frog\ntook pity on him. \u201cChug-a-rum!\u201d said he. \u201cLie down there in the sun and\ndry off, Peter, and I'll tell you the story.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I haven't caught you a foolish green fly!\u201d exclaimed Peter.\n\n\u201cNo, but you've tried, and willingness to try is just as deserving\nof reward as successful effort. Now what was it you wanted to know?\u201d\n replied Grandfather Frog.\n\n\u201cIf you please, I want to know how it is that my cousin, Jumper the\nHare, happens to have a white coat in winter. It seems to me very\ncurious,\u201d replied Peter.\n\n\u201cA long time ago, in the beginning of things,\u201d began Grandfather Frog,\n\u201cOld Mother Nature gave the first Hare a brown coat and turned him out\ninto the Great World to shift for himself, just as she had done with\nall the other animals. That was a very easy matter for old Mr. Hare, who\nwasn't old then, of course. You see, those were good times with plenty\nfor all to eat without trying to eat each other. Mr. Hare was very\nbashful, and like most bashful people he liked to be by himself. So he\nmade his home in the most lonely part of the Green Forest and was very\nhappy and contented for a long time.\n\n\u201cNow being alone so much made him very timid, ready to jump and run at\nthe least unusual sound, and this, it happens, proved to be a very good\nthing for Mr. Hare. You see, being by himself that way, he had plenty to\neat even after the hard times of which you have-heard had begun. So he\nwas in splendid condition, was Mr. Hare, even after some of the other\nlittle people had begun to grow thin because of lack of food. One day\nMr. Lynx happened to stray to that part of the Green Forest where Mr.\nHare was living. He saw Mr. Hare before Mr. Hare saw him. He licked his\nlips hungrily. 'Ha!' thought he, 'this is where I get a good dinner.'\n\n\u201cWith this he began to creep ever so softly towards Mr. Hare. But\ncareful as he was, he stepped on a tiny stick and it snapped. Instantly\naway went Mr. Hare without stopping to see what had made the noise. That\nwas because he had grown so timid from living so much alone. Then Mr.\nLynx made a mistake. With a yell he started after Mr. Hare, and so Mr.\nHare learned that it was no longer safe to trust his neighbors. Mr. Lynx\ndidn't catch Mr. Hare, because Mr. Hare was too swift of foot for him,\nbut he gave him such a scare was that Mr. Hare was more timid than ever.\n\n[Illustration: 0181]\n\n\u201cOthers tried to catch him, and, little by little, Mr. Hare learned that\nhe must always be on the watch, and that safety lay in two things--his\nlong legs and his brown coat. He learned about the latter by being\nsurprised once by Mr. Wolf. He knew that Mr. Wolf didn't see him as he\ncrouched among the brown leaves. For once he was too frightened to run,\nMr. Wolf was so close to him, and this, as it happened, was a very good\nthing. Mr. Wolf trotted right past without seeing him or smelling him.\n\n\u201cAfter that Mr. Hare tried that trick often, for he was smart, was Mr.\nHare. When he suspected that he had been seen he ran, but when he felt\nsure that he hadn't been seen, he sat tight right where he happened to\nbe. But when the first snow came, Mr. Hare found himself in a peck of\ntrouble. He didn't dare sit still when an enemy was near, because his\nbrown coat stood out so against the white snow, and when he ran it was\nan easy matter to keep him in sight. One day he was squatting under a\nsnow-covered hemlock bough when he was startled by the howl of Mr. Wolf\nnot far away. In his fright he jumped up, and the next thing he knew\ndown came the snow from the bough all over him. Then, to his dismay, he\nsaw Mr. Lynx not two jumps away. He sat still from force of habit. Mr.\nLynx didn't see him; he went right past Presently Mr. Wolf came along,\nand he went right past.\n\n\u201cMr. Hare was puzzled. Then he just happened to glance at his coat. He\nwas white with snow from head to foot! Then he understood, and a great\nidea popped into his head. If only he could have a brown coat in summer\nand a white coat in winter, he felt sure that he could take care of\nhimself. He thought about it a great deal. Finally he screwed up his\ncourage and went to Old Mother Nature. He told her all about how he\nhad learned to sit tight when he wasn't seen, but that it didn't always\nsucceed when there was snow on the ground. Then he told her how Mr. Lynx\nand Mr. Wolf had run right past him the time he was covered with snow.\nVery timidly he asked Old Mother Nature if she thought it possible that\nhe might have a white coat in winter. Old Mother Nature said that she\nwould think about it. It was almost the end of winter then, and he\nheard nothing from Old Mother Nature. With the coming of summer he quite\nforgot his request. But Old Mother Nature didn't. She kept an eye on Mr.\nHare and she saw how timid he was and how he was in constant danger from\nhis hungry neighbors. With the beginning of the next winter, Mr. Hare\ndiscovered one day that his coat was turning white. He watched it day by\nday and saw it grow whiter and whiter until it was as white as the\nsnow itself. Then he knew that Old Mother Nature had not forgotten his\nrequest and at once hastened to thank her. And from that day to this,\nthe Hares have had brown coats in summer and white coats in winter,\u201d\n concluded Grandfather Frog.\n\n\u201cOh, thank you, Grandfather Frog,\u201d cried Peter with a little sigh of\ncontentment. \u201cI--I wish I could catch a foolish green fly for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI'll take the will for the deed, Peter,\u201d replied Grandfather Frog. And\nhe suddenly snapped up a foolish green fly that flew too near.\n\n\n\n\nXII. WHEN GREAT-GRANDFATHER SWIFT FIRST USED A CHIMNEY\n\n|OF all his feathered friends and neighbors there was none whom Peter\nRabbit enjoyed watching more than he did Sooty the Chimney Swift. There\nwere two very good reasons why Peter enjoyed watching Sooty. In the\nfirst place Sooty always appeared to be having the very best of good\ntimes, and you know it is always a pleasure to watch any one having a\ngood time. Ol' Mistah Buzzard, sailing and sailing high in the sky with\nonly an occasional movement of his great wings, always seemed to be\nenjoying himself, and so did Skimmer the Swallow, skimming just above\nthe tall grass of the Green Meadows or wheeling gracefully high in the\nair. But neither these two nor any other bird ever seemed to Peter to be\ngetting so much real fun out of flying as Sooty the Swift. Just to hear\nhim shout as he raced with swiftly beating wings and then glided in a\nshort half circle was enough to make you want to fly yourself, thought\nPeter.\n\nThe second reason why Peter enjoyed watching Sooty was that he was very\nmuch a bird of mystery, in spite of the fact that Peter saw him every\nday through the long summer. You know, we all enjoy anything that is\nmysterious. To Peter there was no end of mystery about Sooty the Swift.\nHe was not like other birds. In the first place he hardly looked like\na bird at all. His tail was so short that it was hardly worth calling a\ntail. His neck was so short that his head seemed a part of his body. And\nthen in all the time he had known him, Peter never had seen Sooty still\nfor a single instant. Ol' Mistah Buzzard would come down from high up in\nthe blue, blue sky and sit for hours on a dead tree in the Green Forest\nor walk about on the ground. Skimmer the Swallow would sit on the\nbranch of a tree, or on the very top of Farmer Brown's barn, and twitter\nsociably. But Sooty the Swift was always in the air. At least, he always\nwas whenever Peter saw him.\n\nSometimes Peter used to wonder if Sooty slept in the air as Ducks sleep\non the water. Of course, he didn't really think that he did, but never\nseeing him anywhere but in the air, he was ready to believe almost\nanything. Then one evening just at dusk, Peter happened to be over in\nthe Old Orchard close by Farmer Brown's house, and he saw something\nthat puzzled him more than ever. He saw Sooty the Swift right above\nthe chimney on Farmer Brown's house. It seemed to Peter as if something\nhappened to Sooty. He beat his wings in a queer way, but instead of\nflying on, he dropped right straight down, down, down, and disappeared.\nHe had fallen down that chimney! Peter waited a long time, but Sooty\ndidn't appear again, and finally Peter went home with the feeling that\nhe never again would see Sooty.\n\nBut he did see him again. He saw him the very next day, flying and\nshouting and seemingly having just as good a time as ever. It was then\nthat Peter's curiosity would no longer be denied. He headed straight for\nthe Smiling Pool to consult Grandfather Frog.\n\n\u201cHe'll know all about Sooty if anybody does,\u201d thought Peter and hurried\nas fast as he could, lipperty-lipperty-lip. Grandfather Frog was in\nhis usual place on his big green lily-pad. One glance told Peter that\nGrandfather Frog was in the best of humor, so he wasted no time.\n\n\u201cGrandfather Frog,\u201d cried Peter before he was fairly on the bank of the\nSmiling Pool, \u201cI saw something queer last night, and you are the only\none I know of who can tell me what it meant, because you are the only\none I know who knows all about everything.\u201d\n\nGrandfather Frog smiled. It was a great, big, broad smile. It pleased\nhim to have Peter say that he knew everything. \u201cChug-a-rum! Not\neverything, Peter! I don't know everything. Nobody does,\u201d said he. \u201cBut\nif I happen to know what you want, to know, I'll be glad to tell you.\nNow what is it that is on your mind?\u201d\n\nPeter at once plunged into his story. He told Grandfather Frog how much\nhe enjoyed watching Sooty fly and how little he knew about Sooty. He\nwound up by telling how he had seen Sooty fall down that chimney and how\nsurprised he had been to see Sooty about the next day as well and happy\nas ever. He called Sooty a Swallow, for that is what Peter thought that\nSooty was. He always had thought so.\n\nWhen Peter had finished, Grandfather Frog chuckled. It was a long, deep\nchuckle that seemed to come clear from his toes. When he had enjoyed his\nchuckle to his heart's content, he looked up at Peter and blinked his\ngreat goggly eyes.\n\n\u201cWhat would you say, Peter, if I should tell you that Sooty isn't a\nmember of the Swallow family at all?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI'd believe you,\u201d replied Peter promptly, \u201cbut I never again would dare\nguess what family anybody belonged to from his looks.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Sooty isn't a Swallow at all,\u201d said Grandfather Frog slowly. \u201cHe\nis a Swift, which is another family altogether. Furthermore, he didn't\nfall down that chimney. No, Sir, he didn't fall down that chimney. He\nflew down, and he did it because he lives there. Now listen, and I'll\ntell you a story.\u201d Peter needed no second invitation. A story from\nGrandfather Frog is always one of Peter's greatest treats, as you know.\n\n\u201cChug-a-rum!\u201d began Grandfather Frog, as he always does. \u201cWhen Old\nMother Nature first peopled the Great World, she made each bird a little\ndifferent from every other bird, and each animal a little different from\nevery other animal. Then she turned them loose to make their way the\nbest they could, and let them alone to test them and see how\neach would make the best of his advantages. Mr. Swift, the\ngreat-great-ever-so-great-grandfather of Sooty, felt at first as if Old\nMother Nature had forgotten to give him any advantages at all. He was\nhomely. There wasn't so much as a single bright feather in his whole\ncoat. He had a tail which might as well have been no tail at all, so far\nas he could see. He had tiny feet on which he couldn't walk at all, and\nwith which it was all he could do to hang on to a twig when he wanted to\nrest. But when it came to wings, he wasn't long in discovering that in\nthese he was blessed beyond most of his neighbors. Those wings certainly\nwere made for speed. They were long and narrow, and they drove him\nthrough the air faster than his neighbors with broader wings could fly\nand with a great deal less effort. He could fly all day without getting\ntired, and he never was so happy as when darting about high in the air.\n\n\u201cOf course, it didn't take him long to find out that he could catch all\nkinds of flying insects, and so he had no trouble in filling his stomach\nwhile flying, for his mouth was very wide. 'It must be,' thought he,\n'that Old Mother Nature expects me to live in the air. I wish I could\nsleep while I am flying, but I can't. I never feel comfortable sitting\non a twig.'\n\n\u201cOne day he discovered that he could do something that no other bird\ncould do. By using his wings in a certain way he could drop right\nstraight down without really falling. He practised this a great deal\njust for fun. Then one day as he was flying over a rocky place, he saw\nright under him a great hole that went straight down into the ground.\nIt interested him. He wondered what it was like inside. The more he\nwondered, the more he wanted to find out. So one day, after many trials,\nhe dropped straight down into the hole by means of that new way of\nflying he had discovered.\n\n\u201cHe didn't go very far down, because it was so dark in there, and he was\nbeginning to get a wee bit frightened. On his way up he brushed against\nthe side of the rocky wall and without knowing why, he put out both feet\nand clung to it, folding his wings for a minute's rest. Then he found\nthat by pressing his funny little tail, which ended in sharp spines,\nagainst the wall, he rested more comfortably than ever he had before in\nall his short life. He could cling to a rough wall very much easier than\nhe could sit on a perch. After that he spent his nights in that hole and\nwas happy.\n\n\u201cA long time later he was far from home when night was coming on, and he\nknew that he wouldn't be able to get there before dark. Looking down as\nhe flew, he saw the hollow trunk of a great tree which had been broken\noff by the wind. Why not sleep in that? He circled over it two or three\ntimes and then dropped straight down inside. He liked it. He liked it\nbetter than he did the hole in the rocks. After that he made his home in\na hollow tree.\n\n\u201cIn course of time old King Eagle led the birds to a new part of the\nGreat World which Old Mother Nature had been preparing for them to spend\nthe summer in. Mr. Swift went with the others. But when he got there,\nhe could find no hole in the ground and no hollow tree. But he found\nsomething else. He found the queer homes of men and on top of each a\nstraight, tall thing quite like a hollow tree, only all black inside and\nmade of what seemed like stone. Having no other place to go, he tried\none of them. The next day he searched for a hollow tree but could find\nnone, and so returned to that chimney, for that is what it was. So it\nwas every day. After a little he began to like the chimney. It was easy\nto get in and out of. No one ever bothered him there. It was easy to\ncling to the wall of it. At last he decided to build a nest there. And\nfrom that day to this, the Swifts have lived in the chimneys on the\nhouses of men. When you thought you saw Sooty fall, he was simply going\nhome to spend the night,\u201d concluded Grandfather Frog.\n\n\u201cThank you,\u201d replied Peter with a long sigh. \u201cIt's a funny world, isn't\nit, Grandfather Frog? The idea of living in a chimney! The very idea!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nXIII. WHEN PETER RABBIT FIRST MET BLUFFER THE ADDER\n\n|HOPPITY-SKIP down the Crooked Little Path, lipper-ty-lipperty-lip, went\nPeter Rabbit in his usual heedless, careless way. Peter never can seem\nto get it into his funny little head why he should be careful when there\nappears to be no particular reason for being careful. He is like a great\nmany people--careful when he knows that there is danger near, but as\nheedless as you please when he thinks that all is safe. He has got to\nsee or hear danger before he will believe that it is near. Like a lot of\nother folks he has yet to wake up to the fact that the only way to keep\nout of trouble is to be always prepared for trouble.\n\nSo Peter hopped and skipped down the Crooked Little Path, as he had a\nthousand times before, without a thought of danger. Nothing ever had\nhappened to him on the Crooked Little Path, and so he thought nothing\never could. Suddenly as he rounded a little turn, there was a sound that\nmade Peter stop so suddenly that he almost fell over backward--a sound\nthat made every hair on his body stand on end and his eyes pop out with\nfright. It was a hiss, the loudest, most awful hiss he ever had heard.\nFor just a second Peter was too frightened to move. There, coiled up\nright in the Crooked Little Path, was a member of the Snake family whom\nhe never had seen before. And such a fierce, ugly-looking fellow as he\nwas! No wonder Peter was frightened. This Snake had the flattest head\nPeter ever had seen. His body was rather short and thick, and his neck\nwas flattened in a way that made it appear very large and gave to him a\nvery ugly and dangerous look.\n\nAs soon as he could get his wits together, Peter turned and raced\npell-mell up the Crooked Little Path as fast as his long legs would take\nhim. Looking behind him he didn't see in front of him, and so he almost\nran into Jimmy Skunk. In fact, he would have, if Jimmy hadn't cried:\n\n\u201cHi, there! Why don't you look where you are going? What is the matter\nwith you, anyway, Peter Rabbit?\u201d Peter was so startled by Jimmy that he\njumped to one side as if he suddenly had stepped on something hot.\nThen he saw who it was. \u201cOh, Jimmy,\u201d he cried, \u201cyou mustn't go down the\nCrooked Little Path!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d demanded Jimmy Skunk, staring at Peter and noting how\nfrightened Peter was.\n\n\u201cBecause,\u201d panted Peter, \u201cright down there in the middle of it is one of\nMr. Black Snake's cousins, and I know by his looks that he is one of the\ndangerous kind, like Buzztail the Rattler. Ugh! I nearly ran into him,\nand he hissed enough to make your hair rise. He's got a terrible temper.\nI wouldn't go near him again for the world. Where are you going, Jimmy?\u201d\n\n\u201cDown the Crooked Little Path to have a look at this terrible fellow,\u201d\n replied Jimmy over his shoulder. \u201cPerhaps I can teach him some manners.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Jimmy, do be careful!\u201d begged Peter. \u201cHe really is very terrible.\nI know his bite must be awful. I guess it is worse than that of Buzztail\nthe Rattler. I wouldn't go if I were you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI'm not such a fraidy as you, Peter,\u201d replied Jimmy Skunk, and ambled\non down the Crooked Little Path. Peter wasn't sure about it, but he\nthought he heard Jimmy chuckle. That settled matters for Peter. If Jimmy\nwas laughing at him for warning him of danger, he could just go on and\nget a good fright. It would serve him right. Peter hesitated a minute,\nthen at a safe distance he followed. He wanted to see Jimmy Skunk when\nhe rounded that little turn in the Crooked Little Path and heard that\nterrible hiss.\n\nJimmy ambled along slowly, for you know he never hurries. Presently he\ndisappeared around that little turn, and right away Peter heard that\nterrible hiss. He expected to see Jimmy come racing back, and he was all\nready to make fun of him for pretending to be so brave. But Jimmy didn't\ncome. Once more Peter beard that angry hiss and felt his hair rise on\nend. Then all was still.\n\nPeter waited as long as he could stand it, and then his curiosity got\nthe best of him. Slowly and carefully be tiptoed along until he could\nsee around the turn in the Crooked Little Path. What he saw quite\ntook his breath away. There sat Jimmy Skunk looking down at something\nstretched out at his feet. It was that dreadful Snake on his back, and\nhe appeared to be quite dead. Jimmy reached out and poked him, but Mr.\nSnake didn't move. Jimmy poked him some more, and still he didn't move.\n\n[Illustration: 0211]\n\n\u201cOh, Jimmy, however did you dare to try to kill him?\u201d cried Peter.\n\nJimmy looked back at Peter and grinned. \u201cCome on with me, and I will\ntell you a story,\u201d said he.\n\nPeter hesitated, but the thought of a story was too much for him, and he\nfollowed Jimmy down the Crooked Little Path, taking pains to go around\nthe body of Mr. Snake and not very near it at that, although he knew it\nwas silly and foolish to be afraid of one who was dead. Jimmy didn't go\nfar. He sat down and waited for Peter to join him. From where they were\nthey could see the body of Mr. Snake stretched out on its back in the\nCrooked Little Path. Somehow, now that he was dead, Mr. Snake didn't\nlook so very fierce and terrible. In fact he didn't look nearly so big\nas he had when he was alive. Peter was thinking of this when his heart\ngave a funny little jump. He had turned his head for just a second\nand now, as he looked back at Mr. Snake, he felt that his eyes must be\nplaying him tricks for Mr. Snake was on his _stomach_ instead of on his\n_back!_\n\nPeter opened his mouth to say something, but Jimmy made a sign to keep\nstill. So Peter kept still and with popping eyes watched Mr. Snake.\nPresently he saw Mr. Snake's head come up a little at a time and then\nmove from side to side as if Mr. Snake were looking to see that the\nway was clear. Slowly Mr. Snake began to glide forward. Then, as if\nsatisfied that no one was watching, he moved faster as if in a hurry to\nget away from there, and in a moment he disappeared.\n\nPeter gulped two or three times as if trying to swallow the truth and\nthen turned to stare at Jimmy Skunk. Jimmy laughed right out because\nPeter looked so funny.\n\n\u201cYou--you didn't kill him, after all,\u201d gasped Peter.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Jimmy, \u201cI didn't even touch him until you saw me poke him\nwhen he lay there on his back.\u201d\n\nPeter looked quite as puzzled as he felt. \u201cWas he just pretending to be\ndead the way Unc' Billy Possum does?\u201d demanded Peter.\n\nJimmy nodded. \u201cYou've guessed it,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cBut why did he do it?\u201d persisted Peter, such a puzzled look on his face\nthat Jimmy just had to laugh again.\n\n\u201cBecause he was afraid and tried to fool me into thinking him dead so\nthat I would leave him alone,\u201d replied Jimmy.\n\n\u201cAfraid! That fellow afraid!\u201d exclaimed Peter in an unbelieving tone\nof voice. \u201cWhy, when I saw him first, he was the most savage,\ndangerous-looking fellow that ever I have met.\u201d\n\nOnce more Jimmy laughed. \u201cAll in his looks, Peter,\u201d said he. \u201cYes,\nSir, all his fierceness is in his looks. Really he is one of the most\nharmless and gentle fellows in the world. He tried to scare me just\nas he frightened you, and when he found it wouldn't work, he tried the\nother plan--pretended that he was dead. No one but Old Mr. Toad has the\nleast reason in the world to be afraid of him. All his fierceness is\njust pretending, and that is how he comes by his name, which is Bluffer\nthe Puff-Adder. I'm surprised that you've never happened to meet him\nbefore. I believe some folks call him the Hog-nosed Snake. I always like\nto meet him just to see him try to scare me, and when he finds he\ncan't, I do a little pretending myself and give him a little scare by\npretending that I am going to fight him. Then he always rolls over on\nhis back and pretends that he is dead. I suppose he is chuckling to\nhimself now because he thinks that he fooled us. The next time you meet\nhim just show him that you know he is perfectly harmless and see how\nquickly he'll stop pretending that he is so ugly and dangerous. He\nlearned that trick of bluffing from his father, and his father learned\nit from his father, and so on way back to the days when the world was\nyoung. I would tell you the story now if I had time, but I haven't.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you'll have to do it some other time,\u201d retorted Peter, \u201cfor I\nshall give you no peace until you do.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nXIV. WHEN MR. WOOD MOUSE LEARNED FROM THE BIRDS\n\n|PETER RABBIT never will forget the first time that he saw Whitefoot\nthe Wood Mouse pop out of a nest in a bush a few feet above his head. It\nwasn't so much the surprise of seeing Whitefoot as it was the discovery\nthat that nest was White-foot's own. Peter, had seen that nest often. It\nwas in a bush just a little above one of Peter's favorite paths on the\nedge of the Green Forest. Always he had supposed that it belonged to\none of his feathered friends. He had seen many such nests. At least, he\nsupposed he had. That was because he hadn't taken the trouble to look at\nthis one particularly. He hadn't used his eyes. If he had, he might have\nseen that this, while very like other nests he had seen, was different.\nIt was different in that it had a roof. Yes, Sir, this particular nest\nhad a roof. And it had a doorway, a very small doorway, and this doorway\nwas underneath, a very queer place for a bird to make a doorway had\nthere been any bird of his acquaintance who would build a roof to a\nnest, anyway. All of which goes to show how easy it is to see things\nwithout really seeing them at all.\n\nIt was just at dusk that Peter happened along this particular little\npath and saw Whitefoot the Wood Mouse pop out of that nest.\n\n\u201cHello!\u201d exclaimed Peter. \u201cWhat are you doing up there? What business\nhave you in that nest? Have you been stealing eggs?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I haven't been stealing eggs,\u201d retorted Whitefoot indignantly. \u201cAnd\nif I haven't any business in this nest I should like to know who has.\nIt's my nest! Who has a better right in it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour nest!\u201d exclaimed Peter. \u201cWhy, I thought you lived in a hollow tree\nor a hollow log or a hole in the ground or some such place. How long is\nit since you learned to build a nest like a bird, and who taught you?\u201d\n\nWhitefoot knew by the tone of Peter's voice that Peter didn't believe a\nword of what he had been told. He looked very hard at Peter, and in his\nbig, soft, black eyes was an indignant look which Peter couldn't help\nbut see. \u201cI don't care whether you believe it or not, this is my nest,\nand I built it,\u201d said he indignantly. \u201cAt least I built it over,\u201d he\nadded, for Whitefoot is very truthful. \u201cIn the winter I do live in a\nhollow tree or a hollow log or a hole in the ground, whichever is most\ncomfortable, but in the warm weather I have a summer home, and this is\nit. My family has known how to build such homes ever since the days of\nmy great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather when the world was young.\nIt was he who learned the secret, and it has been in our family ever\nsince.\u201d\n\nPeter's long ears stood straight up with excited interest and\ncuriosity. \u201cTell me about it!\u201d he begged. \u201cTell me how your\ngreat-great-ever-so-great-grandfather learned how to build a nest like a\nbird. Please tell me, White-foot.\u201d\n\nWhitefoot sat up and daintily washed his pretty white hands. \u201cI don't\nthink I will,\u201d he replied slowly. \u201cYou didn't believe me when I said\nthat this nest is mine, and so I'm sure you won't believe the story of\nmy great-grandfather. I don't like telling stories to people who don't\nbelieve.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I will believe it!\u201d cried Peter. \u201cIf you say it is true, I'll\nbelieve every word of it. Please tell me the story, Whitefoot. Oh,\nplease do.\u201d Peter was very much in earnest. \u201cI'm sorry I didn't believe\nyou at first when you said that this nest is yours. But I do now,\nWhitefoot. I do now. Please, please tell me the story.\u201d\n\nWhitefoot's black eyes snapped and twinkled. He enjoyed being teased\nfor that story. You see, he is such a little fellow, such a very little\nfellow, that his bigger neighbors seldom take any notice of him unless\nit is to try to catch him. There are several who would be glad to\nswallow Whitefoot if they could catch him. So, being such a little\nfellow, he felt rather puffed up, rather important, you know, that Peter\nRabbit should be so interested and should actually be begging him for a\nstory. He climbed up to a crotch in a tree just a little above Peter's\nhead, a place where he could watch out for danger, made himself\ncomfortable with his back against the trunk of the tree, carefully\ncombed his fur, for Whitefoot is very particular how he looks, and then\nbegan his story.\n\n\u201cAlways, ever since the world was young, Mice have been among the\nsmallest of the little people of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest,\nand because of this they have had to live by their wits if they would\nlive at all. In the beginning of things it was not so, I have heard it\nsaid, because then there was plenty for all to eat and no cause for the\nbig and strong to seek to kill the small and weak. But when the hard\ntimes came and hunger led to the doing of many dreadful things, all of\nthe Mouse tribe found that they were in danger all the time, just as\nthey are to-day.\n\n\u201cMy great-great-great-grandfather, the first of all the Wood Mice, chose\nthe Green Forest for his home instead of the Green Meadows where his\ncousin, old Mr. Meadow Mouse, liked best to live. He chose the Green\nForest because it was always beautiful there, and because among the\nroots of the trees and in the trees themselves there were so many\nhiding-places. He was very small, just as I am, and he was very smart.\u201d\n\n\u201cJust as you are?\u201d inquired Peter with a twinkle in his eyes.\n\n\u201cI didn't say that!\u201d retorted Whitefoot indignantly. \u201cI never have\nclaimed to be very smart, though I've been smart enough to keep out of\nthe clutches of Reddy Fox and Hooty the Owl and all the others who hunt\nme. But great-great-great-grandfather _was_ smart. In the Green Forest\nhe had prepared for himself many hiding-places. Some were in the ground,\nsome were in holes in trees, and some were in hollow stumps and logs.\nFor a while he felt quite safe and easy in his mind, even when the times\nhad become so hard and food so scarce that night and day some of his\nbig neighbors like Mr. Lynx and Mr. Fox and Mr. Wolf and Mr. Owl and Mr.\nHawk and even old King Bear were sure to come prowling about looking\nfor little people like himself. You see, he had plenty to eat himself\nbecause he had been forehanded and had stored away seeds in some of his\nhiding-places. And he felt perfectly safe because the doorways to his\nhiding-places were so very small that none of these people could follow\nhim into them.\n\n\u201cSo he used to laugh at those who hunted him and sometimes would dodge\ninto one of his little doorways right under their very noses. But one\nday he saw old King Bear tear open an old hollow stump with his great\nclaws, and he knew that King Bear was looking for him. Another day quite\nby chance he happened to see Mr. Weasel slip into one of his smallest\ndoorways, and then a great fear took hold of Grandfather Wood Mouse.\nHis enemies knew now where to look for him and how to get into his\nhiding-places; they were no longer safe.\n\n\u201c'I must find a new hiding-place and keep it a secret,' thought he. For\nmany days he went about, thinking and thinking. One day he had this\nvery much on his mind as he watched Mr. Catbird build a nest. All in a\nflash a great idea came to him. If he could have a home in a bush like\nthat of Mr. Catbird, no one ever, ever would think of looking for him\nthere! 'If birds can build nests, why can't I?' thought he. All that day\nhe watched the building of Mr. Catbird's nest, trying to see just how\neach stick was placed and how the nest was lined with fine roots and\ngrass and strips of grapevine bark. The next day he hunted up some old\nnests in bushes not too high above the ground and climbed up to them.\nHe even pulled some of them to pieces to see how they were made and then\ntried to put them together again.\n\n\u201c'I believe I can do it!' he exclaimed over and over to himself. 'I\nbelieve I can do it! Any way, it will do no harm to try. No harm can\ncome of trying.'\n\n\u201cHe remembered an old nest in a bramble bush not far from where he\nlived. This he examined very carefully. It would do for a foundation.\nThen he went to work, taking care to build only when no one was near to\ndiscover his secret. He brought grass and fine roots, and he made that\nnest more comfortable than it had been when it was first built. Then he\nbuilt a roof over it, so that it would shelter him in bad weather, and\nto get into it he made a little round doorway. When it was finished, he\nwas very proud of it, as he had reason to be. He carried seeds into it,\nand then he made it his home for the summer and way into the fall. Of\ncourse, no one ever dreamed of looking for him in what seemed like\na bird's nest, and many a time he peeped out and watched his hungry\nneighbors walk right under him without ever suspecting that he was near.\n\n\u201cOf course, he taught his children the secret of nest-building which he\nhad learned from the birds, and that has been the most precious secret\nin our family ever since. You won't tell any one, will you, Peter?\u201d he\nconcluded anxiously.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Peter, \u201cI won't tell any one. Of course I won't. It must be\nnice to have a sort of sky-parlor in the summer,\u201d he added wistfully.\n\n\u201cIt is,\u201d replied Whitefoot. \u201cI just love my summer home.\u201d With this he\nclimbed up to his snug nest, and the last Peter saw of him was his long\nslim tail disappearing through the little round doorway.\n\n\n\n\nXV. WHEN MR. HUMMINGBIRD GOT HIS LONG BILL\n\n\n               \u201cI saw him here; I saw him there;\n\n               And now he is not anywhere!\n\n               He is not there; he is not here,\n\n               Yet no one saw him disappear.\u201d\n\n|PETER RABBIT didn't intend that for any ears but his own, but it never\nis safe to talk out loud if you want no one else to hear.\n\n\u201cHuh!\u201d said a voice right back of Peter. Peter started ever so little\nand hastily turned his head, but saw no one.\n\n\u201cHuh!\u201d said the voice again. \u201cHuh! Are you a poet, Peter Rabbit?\u201d\n\nThis time Peter turned wholly around in a single jump. Staring up at him\nfrom under a mullein-leaf was Old Mr. Toad.\n\n\u201cWhat's a poet?\u201d demanded Peter.\n\n\u201cA poet is some one who--who--Say, Peter Rabbit, have you eaten\nsomething that went to your head?\u201d Old Mr. Toad looked really anxious.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Peter, \u201cit went to my stomach. Everything I eat goes to my\nstomach.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen it can't be that you are a real poet,\u201d sighed Old Mr. Toad. \u201cI was\na little afraid you might be when I overheard you just now. On the whole\nI am rather glad, Peter. It would be so tiresome to have to listen to\nyou talking that way. By the way, who is it that is not there and is not\nhere, yet no one saw him disappear?\u201d\n\n\u201cHummer the Hummingbird,\u201d replied Peter eagerly. \u201cYou see him in one\nplace and before you can get your mouth open to speak, he is somewhere\nelse. Then in a shake of your tail he isn't anywhere at all. I mean he\nisn't anywhere in sight.\u201d\n\n\u201cI haven't any tail,\u201d retorted Old Mr. Toad rather testily. \u201cI got rid\nof the silly thing long ago, as you very well know, Peter Rabbit.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcuse me, Mr. Toad. I didn't mean anything personal. It was just a way\nof speaking to show how quickly Hummer disappears. I was thinking of my\nown tail,\u201d said Peter.\n\n\u201cHuh!\u201d grunted Old Mr. Toad just as before. \u201cThen you weren't thinking\nof much.\u201d\n\nPeter laughed. \u201cNot so very much,\u201d he replied. \u201cStill I can shake it,\neven if there isn't much of it. See!\u201d He stood up and twitched his funny\nlittle tail until solemn Old Mr. Toad had to laugh in spite of himself.\n\n\u201cHummer is such a wonderful little fellow,\u201d continued Peter eagerly. \u201cHe\nis so tiny it doesn't seem possible that he can be like other birds. I\ndon't feel really acquainted with him because he isn't still long enough\nfor me to more than nod to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat's true,\u201d replied Old Mr. Toad, nodding sagely. \u201cHe isn't still\ndown near the ground, but if you happened to find his home, you would\noften see him sitting near it as still as any other bird. By the way,\nPeter, did you ever hear how it happened that he comes by such a long\nbill?\u201d\n\n\u201cA story!\u201d cried Peter, jumping up and down and clapping his hands. \u201cOh,\nMr. Toad, I never did hear, and I'm just dying to know. Please do tell\nme!\u201d There was a twinkle in Old Mr. Toad's beautiful eyes,--for they\nreally are beautiful, you know. He backed a little farther under the big\nmullein-leaf where the sun couldn't reach him, opened and closed his big\nmouth two or three times without making a sound, rolled his eyes back as\nif he were looking way, way into the past, and then, just as Peter had\nbegun to think that there wasn't going to be any story after all, he\nbegan to talk in a funny little voice that seemed to come from way down\nwhere his throat and his stomach meet.\n\n\u201cIt was long, long, long ago,\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cI know! It was way back when the world was young,\u201d interrupted Peter\neagerly.\n\n\u201cOh! So you know the story after all, do you?\u201d grunted Old Mr. Toad\nrather crossly.\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon. I do indeed. I'm sorry,\u201d Peter hastened to say.\n\n\u201cVery well. Very well,\u201d grumbled Old Mr. Toad, \u201cbut don't do it again.\nNow I'll have to begin all over again. It was a long, long, long time\nago in the beginning of things when Old Mother Nature had made all\nthe big birds and the middle-sized birds and the little birds that she\ndiscovered that she had just a teeny, weeny bit of the things birds\nare made of left over. There wasn't enough to make even the head of an\nordinary bird. No bird had use for another head, anyway.\n\n\u201cNow Old Mother Nature never could bear to waste anything, and she\ndidn't intend to begin. So she made a teeny, weeny bird and she made him\njust as perfect as any other bird. She gave him feathers just like any\nother bird, only of course his feathers were teeny, weeny. She gave him\na tail just like any other bird, only it was a teeny, weeny tail. She\ngave him feet with toes and claws just like any other bird, only they\nwere teeny, weeny feet. And she gave him a bill, only it was a teeny,\nweeny bill and it was short. And because he was so teeny, weeny and yet\na perfect bird, Old Mother Nature was very proud of him, so she gave\nhim a beautiful green coat. The beautiful ruby throat was not given\nhim until later, when he proved so brave of heart and so loyal to King\nEagle, you remember.\u201d\n\n\u201cI remember,\u201d said Peter. \u201cHe got his ruby throat when old King Eagle\nwon his crown of white.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen Old Mother Nature sent little Mr. Hummingbird out into the Great\nWorld to join the other birds, she told him that tiny as he was she\ncould treat him no differently from the others, and that he would have\nto take care of himself and prove that he was worthy to live and have a\nplace in the work of the Great World, for that was a law which she could\nnot break for any one, great or small.\n\n\u201cSo little Mr. Hummingbird darted away to join the other birds and find\na place for himself in the Great World. When the other birds first saw\nhim, they laughed at him because he was so tiny, and made fun of him.\nthough truth to tell some of them were envious because of his beautiful\ncoat, and others were envious because of the way in which he could\ndart about, for not one among them could fly so swiftly as little Mr.\nHummingbird.\n\n\u201cTiny though he was, he was stout of heart and fairly bursting with\nspunk. He would dash into the very faces of those who tried to tease him\nand would be away again before they could so much as strike at him. So\nit wasn't long before they let him alone, though among themselves they\nstill looked on him as a joke and were sure he would not live long.\nBeing such a teeny, weeny fellow, of course Mr. Hummingbird had a teeny,\nweeny stomach, and he soon discovered that he couldn't eat the things\nthat other birds did but must hunt for teeny, weeny things. It didn't\ntake him long to find out that there were many teeny, weeny insects just\nsuited to him, especially about the flowers. So Mr. Hummingbird spent\nmost of his time darting about among the flowers catching teeny, weeny\ninsects to fill his teeny, weeny stomach.\n\n\u201cOne day he paused in front of a deep-throated flower and discovered\nthat many teeny, weeny insects had hidden in the heart of it. Try as he\nwould he could not reach them. Now his own swift little wings were\nnot quicker than Mr. Hummingbird's temper, and he promptly pulled that\nflower to pieces. Then he caught all the insects, and in doing this he\ndiscovered that in the heart of the flower were sweet juices, better\nthan anything he ever had tasted before. After that he wasted no time\nhunting for teeny, weeny insects in the air, but darted from one\ndeep-throated flower to another, pulling them to pieces and filling his\nteeny, weeny stomach with the insects hiding there and the sweet juices.\n\n\u201cOne day along came Old Mother Nature to see how things were going. On\nevery side were beautiful flowers torn to rags. She threw up her hands\nin dismay. 'Dear me!' she cried. 'I wonder who can have been doing such\ndreadful mischief!'\n\n\u201cJust then she caught sight of little Mr. Hummingbird tearing another\nflower to pieces. Sternly she called him before her, and he came\nfearlessly. 'Why are you tearing my beautiful flowers to pieces?' she\ndemanded.\n\n\u201c'Because it is the only way I can get the food in the hearts of them,\nand it is the food best suited to me,' replied little Mr. Hummingbird\npromptly but respectfully.\n\n\u201cOld Mother Nature tried to look severe, but a twinkle crept into her\neyes. Secretly she was pleased with the fearlessness of the teeny, weeny\nbird.\n\n\u201c'That may be, but I cannot have my beautiful flowers destroyed this\nway. It will never do at all!' said she.\n\n\u201cShe scratched her head thoughtfully for a few minutes. Then she reached\nout and took hold of Mr. Hummingbird's teeny, weeny bill. 'Pull,' said\nshe. Little Mr. Hummingbird pulled with all his might, and his bill was\npulled out until it was long and slender, and his tongue was pulled out\nlong with it.\n\n\u201c'Now,' said Old Mother Nature, 'I guess you won't have to pull my\nflowers to pieces.'\n\n\u201cLittle Mr. Hummingbird darted away to the nearest deep-throated flower\nand found that he could reach the teeny, weeny insects and the sweet\njuices without the least trouble, and from that time on he took the\ngreatest care not to hurt the beautiful flowers. That is how Hummer,\nwhom you know, happens to have a long bill,\u201d concluded Old Mr. Toad.\n\n\u201cAnd I suppose that is why he seems to love the flowers so,\u201d said Peter\nas he looked down at Old Mr. Toad thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cIt is,\u201d replied Old Mr. Toad, and yawned sleepily.\n\n\n\n\nXVI. WHEN OLD MR. BAT GOT HIS WINGS\n\n|IT happens that the Merry Little Breezes, who, as you know, are the\nchildren of Old Mother West Wind, are quite as fond of stories as is\nPeter Rabbit. In fact, whenever they suspect that Peter is going to ask\nsome one for a story, they manage to be about so that they may hear it\ntoo. Now the Merry Little Breezes are very fond of Grandfather Frog\nand many, many times they have helped him get a good dinner by blowing\nfoolish green flies within his reach. It was after one of these times\nthat Grandfather Frog promised them a story.\n\nNow the Merry Little Breezes did not intend to let Grandfather Frog\nforget that promise, so one afternoon when they had grown tired of\nromping on the Green Meadows, they danced over to the Smiling Pool and\nsettled around the big, green lily-pad on which Grandfather Frog was\ndozing. All together they shouted:\n\n                   \u201cWe know you're old;\n\n                        We know you're wise;\n\n                   And what you say\n\n                        We dearly prize.\n\n                   So tell a tale\n\n                        Of olden days,\n\n                   And then, mayhap,\n\n                        We'll go our ways.\u201d\n\n\u201cChug-a-rum! What shall it be about?\u201d demanded Grandfather Frog, waking\nup quite good-natured.\n\n\u201cTell us why Flitter the Bat can fly when none of the other animals\ncan,\u201d cried one of the Merry Little Breezes.\n\nGrandfather Frog cleared his throat several times, and then he began,\nand this is the story he told:\n\n\u201cOnce upon a time when the world was young, old Mr. Bat, the many times\ngreat-grandfather of Flitter, whom you all know, lived in a cave on the\nedge of the Green Forest. Old Mr. Bat was little, quite as little as\nFlitter is now. He didn't have any wings then. No, Sir, old Mr. Bat had\nno wings.\n\n\u201cNow old Mr. Bat's teeth were small and not made for cracking hard seeds\nand things of that sort, so he lived mostly on insects. He used to hunt\nfor them under sticks and stones. Sometimes he had hard work to find\nenough for a meal, because, you know, so many other Green Forest people\nwere hunting for them too.\n\n\u201cNow old Mr. Bat's eyes were very small, very, very small indeed, and\nthe bright sun hurt them. So old Mr. Bat used to stay in his cave all\nday and hunt for his meals only after jolly Mr. Sun had gone to bed\nbehind the Purple Hills. When he did come out most of the crawling bugs\nhad been caught by others, and it was hard work finding them. So often\nMr. Bat went hungry.\n\n\u201cOne evening old Mr. Bat noticed that at twilight a great many bugs fly\nabout. He sat on a big stone at the mouth of his cave and watched. It\nseemed to him that the air was full of bugs. By and by a big fat\nfellow came so near that old Mr. Bat forgot where he was and jumped for\nhim--jumped right off: the top of the big stone. Of course he got a hard\ntumble, but he didn't mind it a bit, not a bit, for he had caught the\nbug. After that, old Mr. Bat used to spend most of the time he was awake\njumping for flying bugs.\n\n\u201cOne night he made a very long jump from a _very_ high stone and got\nsuch a fall that all the breath was knocked out of his funny little\nbody. When he had gotten his breath back he discovered that some one was\nlooking down and smiling at him. It was Old Mother Nature.\n\n\u201c'Pretty hard work to get a dinner that way, isn't it, Mr. Bat?' asked\nOld Mother Nature.\n\n\u201cMr. Bat allowed that it was.\n\n\u201c'How would you like to fly!' asked Old Mother Nature.\n\n\u201cMr. Bat thought that that would be very fine indeed, but that was quite\nout of the question because, as you know, he hadn't any wings.\n\n\u201cOld Mother Nature said no more, but something seemed to be pleasing her\ngreatly as she left Mr. Bat.\n\n\u201cThe next evening when old Mr. Bat awoke, he really didn't know whether\nhe was himself or not. No, Sir, he didn't. His legs were much longer\nthan they used to be and really of no use at all for walking. Between\nthem was a queer thin skin. He couldn't run. He couldn't even crawl very\nwell.\n\n\u201cAt last, after much work, he managed to get to the top of a big rock.\nHe was very hungry, and when a big, fat bug came along, he forgot all\nabout his troubles and tried to jump. But instead of jumping as he\nalways had, he just tumbled off the big rock. As he fell he spread out\nhis legs. What do you think happened? Why, old Mr. Bat found that he\ncould fly!\n\n\u201cAnd ever since that long-ago time the Bats have lived in dark caves and\nhave been able to fly,\u201d concluded Grandfather Frog.\n\n\u201cSplendid!\u201d cried the Merry Little Breezes. \u201cAnd we thank you ever and\never so much!\u201d Then they had a race to see who could be the first to\nblow a foolish green fly over to Grandfather Frog.\n\n\nTHE END","title":"Mother West Wind \"When\" Stories","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":26191}