[Illustration: 0019]
|OF all the joyous sounds of all the year there is none more loved by
Peter Rabbit, and the rest of us for that matter, than the soft whistle
of Winsome Bluebird in the spring. The first time Peter hears it he
always jumps up in the air, kicks his long heels together, and does a
funny little dance of pure joy, for he knows that Winsome Bluebird is
the herald of sweet Mistress Spring, and that she is not far behind him.
It is the end of the shivery, sad time and the beginning of the happy,
glad time, and Peter rejoices when he hears that sweet, soft voice which
is sometimes so hard to locate, seeming to come from everywhere and
nowhere.
So Peter loves Winsome Bluebird and never tires of seeing him about. You
know he wears a very, very beautiful coat of blue, the blue of the sky
when it is softest, and you love to lie on your back and look up into it
and dream and dream. It always has seemed to Peter that Winsome's coat
is one of the loveliest he ever has seen, as indeed it is, and that it
is quite right and proper and just as it should be that one having such
a beautiful voice and bringing such a beautiful message should himself
be beautiful. He said as much one day when he had run over to the
Smiling Pool to pay his respects to Grandfather Frog.
“Chug-a-rum! Certainly. Of course,” replied Grandfather Frog. “Winsome
Bluebird has a beautiful nature and his beautiful coat is the reward
which Old Mother Nature has given him. It has been in the family ever
since his grandfather a thousand times removed was brave enough to
become the herald of Mistress Spring.”
“Oh, Grandfather Frog, that sounds like a story,” cried Peter. “Please,
please tell it to me, for I love Winsome Bluebird, and I know I
shall love him more when I have learned more about him. His
great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather must have done something very fine
to have won such a lovely reward.”
“He did,” replied Grandfather Frog. “He became the herald of Mistress
Spring when no one else would, and bravely carried his message of
gladness and joy where it was sadly needed, in spite of cold and
hardship which no one else was willing to face.”
“Please, please tell me all about it,” begged Peter.
Grandfather Frog appeared to consider for a few minutes, and Peter
waited anxiously. Then Grandfather Frog cleared his voice. “I will,”
said he, “because you ought to know it. Everybody ought to know it, and
Winsome Bluebird certainly never will tell it himself. He is too modest
for that. It happened a great while ago when the world was young. Mr.
Bluebird was one of the quietest and most modest of all the birds. He
wore just a modest gray coat, and no one took any particular notice of
him. In fact, he didn't even have a name. He never quarreled with his
neighbors. He never was envious of those to whom Old Mother Nature had
given beautiful coats, or if he were, he never showed it. He just minded
his own affairs and did his best to do his share of the work of the
Great World, for even in the beginning of things there was something for
each one to do.
“Old Mother Nature was very busy those days making the Great World a fit
place in which to live, and as soon as she had started a new family of
birds or animals she had to leave them to take care of themselves and
get along as best they could. Those who were too lazy or too stupid to
take care of themselves disappeared, and others took their places. There
was nothing lazy or stupid about Mr. Bluebird, and he quickly learned
how to take care of himself and at the same time to keep on the best of
terms with his neighbors.
“When the place where the first birds lived became too crowded and old
King Eagle led them out into the new land Old Mother Nature had been
preparing for them, Mr. Bluebird was one of the first to follow him. The
new land was very beautiful, and there was plenty of room and plenty to
eat for all. Then came Jack Frost with snow and ice and drove all the
birds back to the place they had come from. They made up their minds
that they would stay there even if it were crowded. But after a while
Old Mother Nature came to tell them that soon Jack Frost would be driven
back from that wonderful new land, and sweet Mistress Spring would waken
all the sleeping plants and all the sleeping insects up there so that
it would be as beautiful as it was before, even more beautiful than the
place where they were now. She said that she should expect them to go to
the new land and make it joyous with their songs and build their homes
there and help her to keep the insects and worms from eating all the
green things.
“'But first I want a herald to go before Mistress Spring to tell those
who have lived there all through the time of snow and ice that Mistress
Spring is coming. Who will go as the herald of sweet Mistress Spring?'
asked Old Mother Nature.
“All the birds looked at one another and shivered, and then one by one
they tried to slip out of sight. Now Mr. Bluebird had modestly waited
for some of his big, strong neighbors to offer to take the message of
gladness up into that frozen land, but when he saw them slip away one by
one, his heart grew hot with shame for them, and he flew out before Old
Mother Nature. 'I'll go,' said he, bobbing his head respectfully.
“Old Mother Nature just had to smile, because compared with some of his
neighbors Mr. Bluebird was so very small. 'What can such a little fellow
as you do?' she asked. 'You will freeze to death up there, for it is
still very cold.'
“'If you please, I can at least try,' replied Mr. Bluebird modestly. 'If
I find I can't go on, I can come back.'
“'And what reward do you expect?' asked Old Mother Nature.
“'The joy of spreading such good news as the coming of Mistress Spring
will be all the reward I want,' replied Mr. Bluebird.
“This reply so pleased Old Mother Nature that she then and there made
Mr. Bluebird the herald of Mistress Spring and started him on his long
journey. It _was_ a long journey and a hard journey, harder, very much
harder for Mr. Bluebird than the same journey is for Winsome these days.
You see, everything was new to him. And then it was so cold! He couldn't
get used to the cold. It seemed sometimes as if he certainly would
freeze to death. At these times, when he sat shivering and shaking, he
would remember that sweet Mistress Spring was not very far behind
and that he was her herald. This would give him courage, and he would
bravely keep on. Whenever he stopped to rest, he would whistle the news
that Mistress Spring was coming, and sometimes, just to keep up his own
courage, he would whistle while he was flying, and he found it helped.
To keep warm at night he crept into hollow trees, and it was thus he
learned how snug and safe and comfortable such places were, and he made
up his mind that in just such a place he would build his nest when the
time came.
“As he passed on he left behind him great joy, and Mistress Spring found
as she journeyed north that all in the forests and on the meadows were
eagerly awaiting her, for they had heard the message of her coming; and
she was glad and told Old Mother Nature how well her herald had done his
work. When he had completed his errand, Mr. Bluebird built a home and
was as modest and retiring as ever. He didn't seem to think that he had
done anything out of the usual. He simply rejoiced in his heart that he
had been able to do what Old Mother Nature had requested, and it never
entered his head that he should have any other reward than the knowledge
that he had done his best and that he had brought cheer and hope to
many.
“When Jack Frost moved down from the far North in the fall, all the
birds journeyed south again, and of course Mr. Bluebird went with them.
The next season when it was time for Mistress Spring to start north, Old
Mother Nature assembled all the birds, and this time, instead of asking
who would carry the message, she called Mr. Bluebird out before them and
asked if he were willing to be the herald once more. Mr. Bluebird said
that he would be glad to be the herald if she wished it. Then Old Mother
Nature told all the birds how brave Mr. Bluebird was and how faithful
and true, and she made all the other birds feel ashamed, especially
those bigger and stronger than Mr. Bluebird. Then she said: 'Winsome
Bluebird, for that is to be your name from now on, I here and now
appoint you the herald of Mistress Spring, and the honor shall descend
to your children and your children's children forever and ever, and you
shall be one of the most loved of all the birds. And because you are a
herald, you shall have a bright coat, as all heralds should have; and
because you are true and faithful, your coat shall be blue, as blue as
the blue of the sky.'
“She reached out and touched Mr. Bluebird, and sure enough his sober
gray coat turned the most wonderful blue. Then once more he started on
his long journey and he whistled his message more joyously than before.
And because his whistle brought joy and gladness, and because he was
beautiful to see, it came about just as Old Mother Nature had said it
would, that he was one of the most loved of all the birds, even as his
great-great-ever-so-great-grandson is to-day.”
Peter drew a long breath. “Thank you, Grandfather Frog,” said he. “I
have always loved Winsome Bluebird and now I shall love him more.”