Moose, and he just ached all over to ask about those horns. But every
time he saw them the idea that they ever would or could come off seemed
so impossible that he held his tongue. You see, he didn't want to be
laughed at. So the winter passed, and Peter was no wiser than before.
Then the spring came, and one never-to-be-forgotten day Peter was
hurrying along, lipperty-lipperty-lip, when right in front of him lay
something that made him stop short and stare even harder than he had
stared the first time he saw Flat-horns. What was it? Why, it was one
of those very horns he had thought so much about! Yes, Sir, that is just
what it was.
Even then Peter couldn't believe it was so. He couldn't believe it until
he had hunted up Flathorns himself and seen with his own eyes that
there were no longer any horns on that great head. Then Peter _had_ to
believe. It seemed to Peter the strangest thing he ever had heard of.
There must be a reason, and if there were, Grandfather Frog would be
sure to know it. So every day Peter visited the Smiling Pool to see if
Grandfather Frog had wakened from his long winter sleep. At last one day
he found him and could hardly wait to tell him how glad he was to see
him once more and to be properly polite before he asked him about those
horns of Flat-horns the Moose.
“Chug-a-rum!” said Grandfather Frog. “It's pretty early in the season to
be asking me for a story, but seeing it is you, Peter, and that you've
waited all winter for it, I'll tell it to you. Way, way back in
the days when the world was young, the first Moose, the
great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather of Flathorns, was the biggest of
all the animals in the Green Forest, but he had no horns, and he was
such a homely fellow that everybody laughed at him and made fun of him.
Now nothing hurts quite so much as being laughed at.”
“I know,” interrupted Peter.
“Mr. Moose felt so badly about it that he used to hide away and keep out
of sight all he possibly could,” continued Grandfather Frog. “Big as he
was and strong as he was, he would turn and run away to hide from
even such little people as Mr. Skunk and Mr. Squirrel and your
ever-so-great-grand-father, Mr. Rabbit. He just couldn't bear to be
laughed at. Old Mother Nature kept her eye on him and at last she took
pity on him and crowned his head with the most wonderful horns, horns so
big that no one smaller than Mr. Moose could possibly have carried them.
“Then Mr. Moose threw up his head and carried it proudly, for now no one
laughed at him. He marched through the Great Woods boldly, and even
old King Bear, who was king no longer, stepped aside respectfully. Then
pride entered into Mr. Moose; pride in his wonderful horns; pride in
his great strength. He feared no one. He beat the bushes with his great
horns and bellowed until the Great Woods rang with his voice, and all
those who had once laughed at him hid in fear. He proclaimed himself
king of the Great Woods, and no one dared to deny it.
“So he came and went when and where he pleased and felt himself every
inch a king and carried his great horns as a crown. One day in the
beginning of the springtime, he came face to face with Old Mother
Nature. Once he would have bowed to her very humbly, but by now he had
grown so proud and haughty that instead of stepping aside for her to
pass, he boldly marched on with his head held high as if he did not see
her. It was Old Mother Nature who stepped aside. She said nothing, but
as he passed she reached forth and touched his great horns and they fell
from his head, and with them fell all his pride and haughtiness. At once
some of his neighbors who had been hiding near and had seen all that had
happened began to mock him and make fun of him and laugh at him.
“Then, with his head hung low in shame, did Mr. Moose slink away and
hide as he had done in the beginning, and none could find him save Old
Mother Nature. Very humble was Mr. Moose when she visited him; all his
pride was melted away in shame. Old Mother Nature was sorry for him.
She promised him that he should have new horns, but that once a year he
should lose his horns lest he should forget and again become over-proud
and haughty. So while he kept hidden, the new horns grew and grew until
they were greater and more wonderful than the ones he had had before.
Then Mr. Moose once more came forth, holding his head high and glorying
in his strength, and all his neighbors treated him with the greatest
respect, quite as if he were really king of the Great Woods.
“But he never forgot what Old Mother Nature had said to him, and when
the spring came, he slipped away and hid lest he should be seen without
the glory of his horns, for in his heart he knew that Old Mother Nature
would keep her word. Sure enough, his great horns dropped off, and in
humbleness and patience he waited for new horns to grow. So it was all
the years of his life, and so it has been with his children and his
grandchildren even to this day, and so it is with Flathorns, and so it
will be with his children. And the Moose family never have forgotten and
never can forget that there is nothing so foolish as pride in personal
appearance.”
“Is that all?” asked Peter, as Grandfather Frog stopped.
“Isn't that enough?” demanded Grandfather Frog testily. “Just think
it over a while, and when you are tempted to be proud and haughty just
remember the horns of Mr. Moose and what happened to them.”
“Thank you ever so much for the story,” replied Peter politely as he
hopped away. Half way to the dear Old Briar-patch he paused. “It served
old Mr. Moose just right!” he declared to no one in particular. And so
it did.