|THERE was one of Peter Rabbit's neighbors of whose presence he was
always aware, and yet whom he almost never saw. No, it wasn't Miner the
Mole, but it was one who lives in much the same way as Miner. When Peter
would leave the dear Old Briar-patch he seldom went far without coming
to a little pile of fresh earth. These little piles of earth had puzzled
Peter a great deal for a long time. It sometimes seemed to Peter as if
they appeared by magic. He would pass across a certain part of the Green
Meadows, and there would be nothing but the green things growing there.
When he returned the same way, there would be one or two or maybe half a
dozen piles of newly turned earth.
“Of course,” said Peter the first time he noticed one of these little
earth piles, “where there is a pile of earth like that, there must be a
hole. Some one has been digging, and this is the dirt thrown out.”
But when Peter looked for the hole he couldn't find one. There was no
hole. It was very puzzling, but it was a fact. He kicked that pile of
earth until he had scattered it far and wide, but there was no sign of
a hole. Later he tried the same thing with other little piles of earth,
but never once did he find a hole. It looked as if some one brought
those little piles, dropped them on the Green Meadows, and then went
away. Of course no one did anything of the kind, and Peter knew it. He
spent a good deal of time wondering who could make them. Then one day,
as he was hopping along across the Green Meadows, the ground right in
front of him began to move. It so startled Peter that his first thought
was to run. Then he decided that it would be foolish to run until there
was something to run from. So he sat perfectly still and watched that
spot where the ground was moving. Earth, loose earth, was pushed up from
underneath, and even as Peter sat there staring, with eyes popping out
of his head and mouth wide open in wonder, the pile grew and grew until
it was as big as any of the piles about which he so often had wondered.
Then suddenly a head was thrust out of the middle of it, a homely head.
In an instant it vanished, and a second later the hole where it had
been was filled. Peter could hear the stranger packing the earth in from
underneath. When Peter had recovered his breath and looked, there was no
sign of the hole. No one would ever have guessed that there had been one
there.
That was Peter Rabbit's first meeting with Grubby Gopher. Since then he
has seen Grubby several times, but Grubby is never what you would
call neighborly, and Peter never has felt and never will feel really
acquainted with him. But for one thing Peter would have thought Grubby
Gopher the most uninteresting fellow he ever had met. The one thing was
the discovery that Grubby has the biggest pockets in his cheeks that
Peter has ever seen. And another thing about those pockets--they are on
the _outside_ of Grubby's cheeks instead of being inside, as is the case
with Striped Chipmunk. “When Peter discovered this, he became curious
at once. Of course. Who wouldn't be curious? Peter felt sure that there
must be a story in connection with those pockets. He wondered what use
Grubby Gopher had for pockets, anyway. He wondered why they were outside
instead of inside his cheeks. He wondered a great many things, did
Peter. And when he just couldn't stand it any longer for wondering, he
began to ask questions.
“Why does Grubby Gopher have pockets in his cheeks?” he asked Jimmy
Skunk.
“Because they are handier there than they would be anywhere else,”
replied Jimmy with a twinkle in his eyes. “Have you seen any fat beetles
this morning, Peter?”
“No,” returned Peter shortly. Then an idea came to him. “I tell you
what, Jimmy,” said he, speaking eagerly, “if you'll tell me about those
queer pockets of Grubby's and how he came by them, I'll help you hunt
for some beetles. Is it a bargain?”
Jimmy Skunk scratched his nose thoughtfully as if trying to decide which
would have the better of the bargain. Then he grinned good-naturedly.
You know, Jimmy really is one of the best-natured little people in the
world. “All right,” said he, “it's a bargain. You do your part and I'll
do mine. Now where shall I begin?”
“Begin with the days when the world was young, of course,” replied
Peter. “All good stories seem to have had their beginnings then, so far
as I can see. Of course Grubby got those pockets from his father, and
his father got them from his father, and so on way back to the first
Gopher. So begin right off with him.”
“Just as you say,” replied Jimmy. “Old Mr. Gopher, the first Gopher,
who wasn't old then, was one of the little people whom Old Mother Nature
turned loose in the Great World which was just in its beginning and
told to make the best of life as they found it. No doubt they would need
things which they hadn't got, but first they must find out what they
really did need. Later, when she had more time, she would consider these
needs, and if they were real needs, not just desires, she would see what
could be done to supply them.
“So Mr. Gopher started out to make his way in the Great World, and it
wasn't long before he discovered that everybody else was doing the same
thing. It soon became clear to him that if everybody lived on the same
kind of food, there wouldn't be enough to go around, and the biggest
and strongest creatures would get all there was, leaving the smaller and
weaker ones to starve. Not long after this he discovered certain of
his big neighbors had begun to look at him in a way that made him most
uncomfortable. In fact, they looked at him with such a hungry gleam
in their eyes, and they licked their lips in such an unpleasant way
whenever he met them, that little cold shivers ran all over him and he
decided that the less he was seen the better his chances.
“One other thing Mr. Gopher discovered, and this was that each one
seemed to have some special gift. One was a good climber, another a
swift runner, a third a wonderful jumper, a fourth a great swimmer. Mr.
Gopher could neither climb, nor run, nor jump, nor swim particularly
well. What could he do? Somehow he had a feeling that Old Mother Nature
had given him some special advantage. What could it be? He sat down and
studied himself. Then he noticed for the first time that his hands were
different from the hands of those about him. For his size they were
very large and strong, and on the three middle fingers of each hand were
long, stout claws. What could he do with these besides fight? Dig!
That was it; he could dig. He tried it. Sure enough, he could dig at a
surprising rate.
“Then came a new idea. He would dig himself a hole and live in it. That
would keep him out of sight of his big neighbors with the hungry-looking
eyes and the watery mouths. So he dug himself a hole, and then he
discovered that in order to get food he must leave the hole, and so
he was no better off than before. While he was studying over this, He
started a little tunnel just for the fun of digging, for he liked to
dig, did Mr. Gopher. Presently he came to a root in his path. He decided
to cut it and get it out of his way. Now when he began to cut it he made
another discovery, one that tickled him half to death. That root was
good to eat! He ate all of it, and then he went on digging, hoping to
find another. He did find another. Then Mr. Gopher made up his mind
that in the future he would live underground and be safe. He would make
himself a comfortable house, and then from that he would tunnel wherever
he pleased for food.
“So Mr. Gopher made a comfortable house underground, and then he started
digging for food. Every once in a while he would make an opening at the
surface of the ground and push out the dirt he had dug in making his
tunnel, filling up the opening as soon as he had pushed out all the
dirt. In this way he kept his tunnels clear, so that he could run back
and forth through them. So he lived very comfortably until one day he
happened to overhear Mr. Squirrel talking about the coming of Jack Frost
and telling how he wouldn't mind because he was laying up stores of food
in a storehouse.
“'That's a good idea of Mr. Squirrel's,' thought Mr. Gopher, who was
much troubled by what he had heard about the coming of Jack Frost. 'I
believe I'll do the same thing.' But when he tried it, he found it slow,
hard work. You see, he could carry so little at a time, and had to carry
it so far, that it was very discouraging. He had forgotten all about
Old Mother Nature until suddenly one day she appeared before him and
smilingly asked what boon she could grant him. Almost without thinking
he replied, 'Pockets! Big pockets in my cheeks!'
“Old Mother Nature looked surprised. 'Tell me all about it,' said she.
'Why do you want pockets, and what would you do with them if you had
them?'
“So Mr. Gopher explained to Old Mother Nature how he had learned to live
underground and how lately he had been trying to lay up a store of food
but had found it slow work.
“Old Mother Nature was pleased to think that Mr. Gopher had made the
most of his opportunities, but she didn't say so. 'I'll think it over,'
said she and left him. But the very next time Mr. Gopher brushed a hand
against one of his cheeks, he discovered a great pocket there. Hastily
he felt of the other.
“There was another great pocket there! Then Mr. Gopher was perfectly
happy. He felt that there wasn't a single thing in all the world that
he could ask for to make him any happier. It is just the same way with
Grubby to-day. He is perfectly happy working in the dark under the
ground and very, very proud of the big pockets in his cheeks,” concluded
Jimmy Skunk.
“Thank you, Jimmy. Thank you ever so much. Now I'll help you find some
fat beetles,” cried Peter.