promptly. "There must have been a very good reason, and if there was a
very good reason, there must be a story. Please, Honker, tell me all
about it."
Honker swam a little way out from shore, and with head held high and
very still, he looked and listened and listened and looked until he was
quite certain that no danger lurked near. Then he swam back to where
Peter was sitting on the bank.
"Peter," said he, "I never in all my born days have seen such a fellow
for questions as you are. If I lived about here, I think I should swim
away every time I saw you coming. But as I only stop here for a day or
two twice a year, I guess I can stand it. Besides, you really ought to
know something about some of the people who live in the Great Forest. It
is shameful, Peter, that you should be so ignorant. And so if you will
promise not to ask for another story while I am here, I will tell you
about Glutton the Wolverine."
Of course Peter promised. He wanted that story so much that he would
have promised anything. So Honker told the story, and here it is just as
Peter heard it.
"Once upon a time long, long, long ago, the first Wolverine was sent out
to find a place for himself in the Great World just as every one else
had been sent out. Old Mother Nature had told him that he was related to
Mr. Weasel and Mr. Mink and Mr. Fisher and Mr. Skunk, but no one would
have guessed it just to look at him. In fact, some of his new neighbors
were inclined to think that he was related to Old King Bear. Certainly
he looked more like King Bear than he did like little Mr. Weasel. But
for his bushy tail he would have looked still more like a member of the
Bear family. He was clumsy-looking. He was rather slow moving, but he
was strong, very strong for his size. And he had a mean disposition.
Yes, Sir, Mr. Wolverine had a mean disposition. He had such a mean
disposition that he would snarl at his own reflection in a pool of
water.
"Now you know as well as I do that no one with a mean disposition has
any friends. It was so with Mr. Wolverine. When his neighbors found out
what a mean disposition he had, they let him severely alone. They would
go out of their way to avoid meeting him. This made his disposition all
the meaner. He didn't really care because his neighbors would have
nothing to do with him. No, he didn't really care, for the simple reason
that he didn't want anything to do with them. But just the same it made
him angry to have them show that they didn't want to have anything to do
with him. Every time he would see one of them turn aside to avoid
meeting him, he would snarl under his breath, and his eyes would glow
with anger; he would resolve to get even.
"Being slow in his movements because of his stout build, he early
realized that he must make nimble wits make up for the lack of nimble
legs. He also learned very early in life that patience is a virtue few
possess, and that patience and nimble wits will accomplish almost
anything. So, living alone in the Great Forest, he practised patience
until no one in all the Great World could be more patient than he. No
one knew this because, you see, everybody kept away from him. And all
the time he was practising patience, he was studying and studying the
other people of the Great Forest, both large and small, learning all
their habits, how they lived, where they lived, what they ate, and all
about them.
"'One never knows when such knowledge may be useful,' he would say to
himself. 'The more I know about other people and the less they know
about me the better.'
"So Mr. Wolverine kept out of sight as much as possible, and none knew
how he lived or where he lived or anything about him save that he had a
mean disposition. Patiently he watched the other people, especially
those of nimble wits who lived largely by their cunning and
cleverness--Mr. Fox, Mr. Coyote, Mr. Lynx and his own cousins, Mr. Mink
and Mr. Weasel. From each one he learned something, and at last he was
more cunning and more clever than any of them or even than all of them,
for that matter.
"Living alone as he did, and having a mean disposition, he grew more and
more sullen and savage until those who at first had avoided him simply
because of his mean disposition now kept out of his way through fear,
for his claws were long and his strength was great and his teeth were
sharp. It didn't take him long to discover that there were few who did
not fear him, and he cunningly contrived to increase this fear, for he
had a feeling that the time might come when it would be of use to him.
"The time did come. As you know, there came a time when food was scarce,
and everybody, or almost everybody, had hard work to get enough to keep
alive. Mr. Wolverine didn't. The fact is, Mr. Wolverine lived very well
indeed. He simply reaped the reward of his patience in learning all
about the ways of his neighbors, of his nimble wits and of the fear
which he inspired. Instead of hunting for food himself, he depended on
his neighbors to hunt for him. They didn't know they were hunting for
him, but somehow whenever one of them had secured a good meal, Mr.
Wolverine was almost sure to happen along. A growl from him was enough,
and that meal was left in his possession.
"Knowing how scarce food was and the uncertainty of when he would get
the next meal, Mr. Wolverine always made it a point on these occasions
to stuff himself until it was a wonder his skin didn't burst. If there
was more than he could eat, he would take a nap right there, and because
of fear of him the rightful owner of the food would not dare take what
was left. When he awoke Mr. Wolverine would finish what remained.
"Those who secured more food than they could eat and tried to store away
the rest found that no matter how cunningly they chose a hiding-place
for it and covered their tracks, Mr. Wolverine was sure to find it. In
fact, he made a business of robbing storehouses, and the habit of
greediness became so strong that he would stuff himself at one
storehouse and immediately start for another. When it did happen that he
couldn't eat all he found and yet didn't want to stay until he could
finish it, he would tear to bits all that remained and scatter it all
about. You know I told you he had a mean disposition.
"Even when good times returned and there was no possible excuse for
such greed, Mr. Wolverine continued to stuff himself until it seemed
that instead of eating in order to live, as the rest of us do, he lived
in order to eat. Of course it wasn't long before some one called him a
glutton, and presently he was named Glutton, and no one called him
anything else. Glutton by name and a glutton in habit he remained as
long as he lived. Both name and habits he handed down to his children
and they to their children. So it is that today there is no more cunning
thief, no greedier rascal, and no one with a meaner disposition in all
the Great Woods of the Far North than Glutton the Wolverine."
"Queer how a habit will stick, isn't it?" said Peter thoughtfully.
"Particularly a bad habit," added Honker.
VII
WHERE OLD MRS. 'GATOR MADE THE FIRST INCUBATOR
Peter Rabbit and Mrs. Quack the Mallard Duck are great friends. They
have been great friends ever since Peter tried to help Mrs. Quack when
she and Mr. Quack had spent a whole summer on a little pond hidden deep
in the Green Forest because Mr. Quack had a broken wing and so he and
Mrs. Quack simply couldn't keep on to their home in the Far North for
which they had started. During that long summer Peter had become very
well acquainted with them. In fact he visited them very often, for as
you know, Peter is simply brimming over with curiosity, and there were
wonderful things which Mr. and Mrs. Quack could tell him, for they are
great travelers.
Now once, as Mrs. Quack was telling Peter about the far-away Southland
where she and Mr. Quack and many other birds spend each winter, she
mentioned Old Ally the 'Gator. People who live where he does call him
just 'Gator, but you and I would call him Alligator.
At the mention of Old Ally, all Peter's curiosity was awakened, for Mrs.
Quack had said that foolish young ducks sometimes mistook him for an old
log floating in the water and didn't find out the difference until his
great mouth flew open and he swallowed them whole. At that Peter's eyes
threatened to pop right out of his head and every time he visited that
little pond he pestered Mrs. Quack with questions about Old Ally the
'Gator and Mrs. 'Gator. It seemed as if he couldn't think of anything
else. And when Mrs. Quack just happened to mention that little 'Gators
are hatched from eggs just as her own children are, it was almost too
much for Peter to believe.
"What?" he squealed, hopping up and down in excitement. "Do you mean to
tell me that anything as big as Old Ally, big enough to swallow you
whole, can come from an egg? I don't believe it! Besides, only birds lay
eggs."
"Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack,
Peter, you must take that back!"
cried Mrs. Quack.
"Why must I take it back?" demanded Peter.
"Because as usual you've let your tongue run loose, and that is a bad
habit, Peter. It certainly is a bad habit. How about the Snake family?"
"Oh!" said Peter, looking very foolish. "I forgot all about the Snakes.
They do lay eggs."
"And how about Spotty the Turtle? Didn't he come from an egg?" persisted
Mrs. Quack.
Peter looked more foolish than before, if that were possible. "Y-e-s,"
he replied slowly and reluctantly.
"Then don't be so quick to doubt a thing just because you've never seen
it," retorted Mrs. Quack. "I've seen Mrs. 'Gator build her nest more
than once, and I've seen her eggs, and I've seen the baby 'Gators; and
what is more, I'm not in the habit of telling things that I don't know
are so."
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Quack." Peter was very humble. "I do indeed.
Please forgive me. Is--is Mrs. 'Gator's nest at all like yours?"
Peter seemed so truly sorry for having doubted her that Mrs. Quack
recovered her good nature at once. "No," said she, "it isn't. If I
hadn't seen her make it, I wouldn't have known it was a nest. You see,
one spring I got hurt so that I couldn't take my usual long journey to
the Far North and had to spend the summer way down in the Southland
where I always lived in the winter, and that is how I happened to learn
about Mrs. 'Gator's nest and eggs and a lot of other things. Mrs. 'Gator
is lazy, but she is smart. She's smart enough to make Mr. Sun do her
work. What do you think of that?"
Right away Peter was all excitement. You see, that sounded as if there
might be a story behind it. "I never have heard of such a thing!" he
cried. "How did she learn to do such a smart thing as that? Of course I
don't for a minute believe that she herself discovered a way to get Mr.
Sun to work for her. Probably it was her ever-so-great-grandmother who
first did it. Isn't that so, Mrs. Quack?"
Mrs. Quack nodded. "You've guessed it, Peter," said she. "It all
happened way, way back in the days when the world was young."
"Tell me about it! Please, please tell me about it, Mrs. Quack, and the
first chance I get, I'll do something for you," begged Peter.
Mrs. Quack carefully went over all her feathers to see that every one
was in place, for she is very particular about how she looks. When she
was quite satisfied, she turned to Peter, fidgeting on the bank.
"Way back in the days when the world was young," said she, "Old Mother
Nature made the first Alligators before she made the first birds, or the
first animals, so Old Ally and Mrs. 'Gator, who live way down south now,
belong to a very old family and are proud of it. In the beginning of
things there was very little dry land, as you may have heard, so old Mr.
and Mrs. 'Gator, who of course were not old then, were made to live in
the water with the fish. Old Mother Nature was experimenting then. She
was planning to make a great deal more land, and she wanted living
creatures on it, so she gave the 'Gators legs and feet instead of fins,
and lungs to breathe air instead of gills for breathing in the water as
fish do. Then, having many other things to attend to, she told them
they would have to take care of themselves, and went about her business.
"It didn't take Mr. and Mrs. 'Gator long to discover that their legs
were not of much use in the water, for they used their powerful tails
for swimming. Then one day Mrs. 'Gator crawled out on land and right
away discovered what those legs were for. She could go on dry land while
fishes could not. It didn't take her long to find out that nothing was
quite so fine as a sun-bath, as she lay stretched out on the bank, so
she and Mr. 'Gator spent most of their time on sunny days taking
sun-baths.
"One day Old Mother Nature came along and whispered a wonderful secret
to Mrs. 'Gator. 'I am going to give you some eggs,' whispered Old
Mother Nature, 'some eggs of your very own, and if you watch over them
and keep them warm, out of each one a baby 'Gator will some day creep.
But if you let those eggs get cold, there will be no babies. Don't
forget that you must keep them warm.'
"Old Mother Nature was as good as her word. She gave Mrs. 'Gator twenty
beautiful white eggs, and Mrs. 'Gator was perfectly happy. Those eggs
were the most precious things in all the Great World. It seemed as if
she never would grow tired of looking at them and admiring them and of
dreaming of the day when her babies should come out of them. It was very
pleasant to lie there in the sun and dream of the babies to come from
those wonderful eggs. Suddenly, right into the midst of those pleasant
dreams, broke the memory of what Old Mother Nature had said about
keeping those eggs warm. All in a twinkling happiness was turned to
worry.
"'What can I do? What can I do?' Mrs. 'Gator kept saying over and over.
'However can I keep them warm when Mr. Sun goes to bed at night? Oh,
dear! Oh, dear! My beautiful eggs never, never will turn to darling
babies! What can I do?'
"All this time Mr. 'Gator was a great deal more interested in making
himself comfortable than he was in those eggs. He had picked out a place
where all day long Mr. Sun poured down his warmest rays, and he had dug
a place to sprawl out in comfortably. The sand he had thrown in a pile
at one side. When Mrs. 'Gator went to consult Mr. 'Gator about those
precious eggs and her worries when the cool of evening had come, she
happened to put one foot in that loose pile of sand, and she found that
while the sand on the outside was already cool, that down inside the
pile was still warm. A clever idea came to her like a flash.
"First she sent Mr. 'Gator into the water to get his supper. Then she
scooped a hole in that pile of warm sand, and in it she put her precious
eggs and carefully covered them up with sand. When this was done she
stretched out close by to keep watch and see that nothing disturbed
those treasures. That was a very anxious night for Mrs. 'Gator. The sand
on which she lay grew very cool. When at last day came and Mr. Sun once
more began to shine, she opened that pile of sand and great was her joy
to find that inside it was still warm. When Mr. 'Gator came crawling out
of the water to spend the day in that comfortable bed he had dug, she
chased him away and was so cross that he went off grumbling and dug
another bed. Mrs. 'Gator waited until Mr. Sun had made the sand very
warm indeed, and then she made a great mound of it, and in the middle
of it were her precious eggs. Night and day she kept guard, and all the
time she worried lest those eggs should not be warm enough. Then one day
twenty baby 'Gators dug their way out of that mound of sand. Yes, Sir,
they did.
"All this happened long, long ago when the world was young, and ever
since then 'Gators have lived only way down south, where it is very warm
and where Mr. Sun will hatch their eggs for them. And today it is done
just as I've told you, for I've seen with my own eyes Mrs. 'Gator build
her nest, cover her eggs, and then lie around while Mr. Sun did the work
for her. What do you think of that?"
"I think that if you hadn't told me that you had seen it with your own
eyes, Mrs. Quack, I should think it a fairy story," replied Peter.
VIII
WHERE MR. QUACK GOT HIS WEBBED FEET
Twice every year, in the early spring and in the late fall, Peter Rabbit
watches the Smiling Pool with a great deal of eagerness. Can you guess
why? It is because two very good friends of Peter's are in the habit of
stopping there for a few days for rest and refreshment before continuing
the long journey which they are obliged to make. They are Mr. and Mrs.
Quack, the Mallard Ducks. Peter is very fond of them, and when the time
for their arrival draws near, Peter watches for them with a great deal
of anxiety. You see they have told him something of the terrible
dangers which they always encounter on these long journeys, and so Peter
is always afraid that something terrible may have happened to them, and
it is a great relief when he finds them swimming about in the Smiling
Pool.
One reason Peter is so fond of Mr. and Mrs. Quack is because they always
have a story for him. Sometimes it is a story of adventure, a tale of
terrible danger and narrow escapes. Sometimes it is about their home in
the far Northland, and again it is about the wonderful Southland where
they spend the winter. But the story that Peter likes best is the one
about where and how the Quack family got their funny, webbed feet. Mr.
Quack doesn't think those feet funny at all, but Peter does. He never
grows tired of watching Mr. and Mrs. Quack use them, because, you know,
they are used so differently from other feet. And always he goes back to
the dear Old Briar-patch with renewed admiration for the wisdom of Old
Mother Nature.
Peter noticed those feet the first time he met Mr. and Mrs. Quack. He
couldn't help but notice them. It happened that Mr. and Mrs. Quack were
out on the bank of the Smiling Pool as Peter came hurrying over in his
usual way, lipperty-lipperty-lip. They heard him coming and not knowing
at first who it was they at once started for the water. Peter never will
forget the funny way in which they waddled. He never had seen anybody
quite so awkward. But when they reached the water he forgot to laugh. He
simply stared open-mouthed in astonishment. You see there they were as
graceful as they had been awkward on land. Afterward, when Peter had
become acquainted with them and they were the best of friends, he
ventured to speak of their queer feet.
"Do you know," said he, "you have the most interesting feet of anybody I
know of. They are so broad that the first time I saw them I couldn't
believe my own eyes. I didn't suppose anybody had such broad feet. I
suppose there is some special reason why they are so broad and why your
legs are so short. Do you know how Mother Nature happened to give you
feet so different from the feet of other birds, Mr. Quack?"
Mr. Quack chuckled. "I tell you what it is, Peter," said he, "if you'll
tell me why it is you have such long hind legs and such a funny short
tail, I'll tell you why it is that Mrs. Quack and I have such broad
feet, though I must confess that I don't see anything odd about them."
Peter agreed at once. He told Mr. and Mrs. Quack all about what happened
to his grandfather a thousand times removed, the very first Rabbit, way
back when the world was young, and how ever since then all Rabbits have
had long hind legs and short tails. When he had finished Mr. Quack
thoughtfully scratched his handsome green head, looked at his reflection
in the Smiling Pool to make sure that he was looking his very best,
looked behind to see that the feathers in the tip of his tail had the
proper curl, and then gazed off over the Green Meadows with a far-away
look in his eyes as if he were looking way back to the time he was to
tell about. At last, just as Peter Rabbit was beginning to lose patience
Mr. Quack began.
"It must be, Peter," said he, "that my
great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather lived just about the same time as
your great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather, way back in the days when
the world was young. Perhaps they knew each other. Perhaps they were
acquainted just as you and I are now. Anyway, according to what has been
handed down in the family, Grandfather Quack was very much such a
looking fellow as I am now, except in the matter of his bill and feet.
His bill was not broad like mine but more like the bills of other birds,
and his feet were like the feet of Mr. Grouse and Bob White. They were
made for scratching, and there was nothing between the toes. You see,
Old Mother Nature was experimenting. She made everybody a little
different from everybody else and then started them forth in the Great
World to shift for themselves and to find out what they really needed
that they hadn't got.
"Old Mr. Quack, my great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather, soon
discovered one thing, and that was that his legs were too short for him
to get around very fast. When he walked, everybody laughed at him. When
he tried to run, they laughed harder than ever. He didn't mind this so
very much, though he did a little. Nobody likes to be laughed at,
especially when it is because of something they cannot help. But what he
did mind was the fact that his neighbors could run about so much faster
than he that they got all the best of the food, and quite often he went
hungry.
"One day he happened to be sitting on the bank of the Smiling Pool,
thinking the matter over and wondering what he had best do, when Mr.
Fox stole up behind him and startled him so that he lost his balance and
tumbled down the bank into the water. This frightened him more than
ever, and he flapped about and squawked and squawked and flapped until
Mr. Fox nearly split his sides laughing at him. And when he was quite
out of breath, Mr. Quack discovered that he was making all this fuss for
nothing. He didn't sink, but floated on the water, and what was more the
water didn't get under his feathers at all. When he tried to walk, of
course he couldn't, and he had a funny feeling because his feet didn't
touch anything and felt so very useless. But he kept moving them back
and forth, and pretty soon he discovered that he moved ahead. Of course
he moved very slowly, because his feet were not made for use in the
water, but he moved, and that was enough. He knew then that he could get
back to land. Then he tried his wings and he found that he could rise
into the air from the water quite as easily as from the land. Right then
and there all fear of the water left him. In fact, he liked it.
"Little by little, Grandfather Quack began to understand that he had
made a great discovery. He had discovered the safest place in all the
Great World for him. Out on the water he was safe from Mr. Fox and Mr.
Wolf and all the other four-footed hunters. So he took to spending most
of his time on the water or near it. When he wanted a nap, he would hide
among the rushes that grew in the water. 'If only I didn't have to leave
the water for food!' sighed Grandfather Quack. 'If only I could find
food here, I would never leave the water.'
"At the time he was squatting at the very edge of the Smiling Pool.
Presently he noticed a funny water bug crawling on the bottom where the
water was only an inch or two deep. 'I wonder if that fellow is good to
eat,' thought he, and almost without thinking he plunged his head under
water and caught the bug. It was good. Grandfather Quack at once started
to look for more, and while doing this he discovered that there were a
great many seeds from the rushes scattered about in the mud at the
bottom of the Smiling Pool, and that these also were good to eat. Then
quite by accident he got hold of a tender root in the mud and found that
this was especially good.
"This was enough for Grandfather Quack. He had found that he could get
plenty to eat without leaving the Smiling Pool. Moreover, he didn't have
to share it with anybody, because there was no one else who thought of
looking for food there. He knew when he was well off. So Grandfather
Quack grew fat and was happy. The only things that bothered him were the
slowness with which he had to pick up seeds, one at a time, and the
slowness with which he could paddle about, for you couldn't really call
it swimming. But in spite of these things he was happy and made the best
of his lot.
"One day he tugged and tugged at a root with his head under water. When
at last he had to bring his head up for a breath, whom should he
discover but Old Mother Nature watching him from the opposite bank.
'Come over here, Mr. Quack, and tell me all about it,' she commanded.