wide to laugh at Peter and his excitement. "That was Big Tom Gobbler,
and he was doing all that for the benefit of Mrs. Gobbler, who was
hiding in that brush. It was her head you saw. Big Tom is the most
conceited fellow in the Green Forest. He dearly loves to strut. He is
just like his father and his grandfather and his great-grandfather. The
Gobblers never have gotten over strutting since Old Mr. Gobbler, the
first of the family, got the habit."
"Tell me about it. Please, Grandfather Frog, tell me about it," begged
Peter. "How did Old Mr. Gobbler get the habit?"
Grandfather Frog chuckled. "He got it from admiring his own reflection
in a pool of water," said he. "You see, in those days way back when the
world was young, people had more time to form habits than they do now.
With plenty to eat and little to do, they had more time to think about
themselves than they do now. Old Mr. Gobbler soon discovered that he was
the biggest of all the birds in that part of the Great World where he
lived, and this discovery was, I suspect, the beginning of his vanity.
Then one day as he was walking along, he came to a little pool of water.
It was very clear, and there wasn't a ripple on the surface. There for
the first time Mr. Gobbler saw his reflection. The more he looked, the
better he liked his own appearance. He spread his tail just to see how
it would look in the water. Then he puffed himself out and strutted.
"'There is nobody to compare with me,' thought he, and strutted more
than ever.
"After that he used to steal away every day to admire himself in that
little pool of water. He tried new ways of strutting and of puffing
himself out. After a while he was no longer content to admire himself.
He wanted others to admire him. So the first chance he got he began to
strut and show off all his grand airs before Mrs. Gobbler. At first she
paid no attention to him. At least that is the way she appeared. She
would turn her back on him and walk off into the bushes. This made Old
Mr. Gobbler very angry until he discovered that she would tiptoe back
and watch him admiringly when she thought he didn't know it. That made
him strut all the more.
"At first all the neighbors used to gather around and admire him and
tell him how handsome he was until his head was quite turned, as the
saying is, and he spent most of his time strutting and showing off. Then
he took to bragging and boasting that there was no bird to compare with
him. Thus he became quite unbearable, and all his neighbors would turn
their backs on him when they saw him coming. Only Mrs. Gobbler continued
to watch in secret and to admire him.
"Now in those days Mr. Gobbler didn't have a red head and neck. One day
Old Mother Nature happened along when Mr. Gobbler was strutting and
boasting how big and brave he was. He didn't see her, and she watched
him quietly for a few minutes. Then she slipped away and hunted up Mr.
Wolf.
"'I want you to steal over where Mr. Gobbler is strutting,' said she,
'and suddenly spring out at him as if you intended to catch him.'
"Mr. Wolf grinned and trotted off to do her bidding. He found Mr.
Gobbler swelled up until he looked as if he must burst, and bragging to
Mrs. Gobbler.
"'I'm the biggest of all the birds,' bragged Mr. Gobbler. 'I'm afraid of
no one. While you have me with you, my dear, you have nothing in all the
Great World to fear.'
"Just then out sprang Mr. Wolf with all his long, sharp teeth showing.
Mr. Gobbler gave a yelp of fright. He lost his swelled-up appearance as
suddenly as a bubble flattens out when it is pricked. With a frantic
beating of his wings he took to the air. Being in such a fright, he
didn't see where he was going, and struck his head against a sharp twig,
which tore the skin, for there were no feathers to protect it, and made
it bleed. The blood ran all over his head and down his neck, though he
really was hardly hurt at all. From the top of a tall tree he looked
down. There stood Old Mother Nature, looking up at him.
"'Mr. Gobbler,' said she, 'you have acquired a bad habit, a very bad
habit. Hereafter, whenever you become vain and strut, your head and neck
shall become as red as they now are, as a reminder to you and all who
see you of how silly it is to be vain and boastful.'
"And so it was. And so it is with Big Tom Gobbler to this day. There is
nothing in the world more foolish than vanity," concluded Grandfather
Frog.
[Illustration: "Don't call me Striped Chipmunk, and don't call me
Gopher!" said he. _Page 172._]
XII
WHERE SEEK-SEEK GOT HIS PRETTY COAT
Peter Rabbit never will forget the first time he saw Seek-Seek the
Ground Squirrel, often wrongly called Gopher or Gopher Squirrel, but
whose real name is Spermophile, which means seed eater. Peter won't
forget that meeting, because of the funny mistake he made and the
foolish feeling he had as a result of it. You see, Peter didn't know
that there was such a person as Seek-Seek. He was hopping along across
the Green Meadows in his usual happy-go-lucky way when, right in front
of him, he saw what at first he took to be a stake, a small stake,
driven in the ground. But as he drew nearer, it suddenly moved. It
wasn't a stake at all, but a very lively small person in a striped coat
who had been sitting up very straight and motionless.
"Hello, Striped Chipmunk! What are you doing way out here so far from
the old stone wall?" exclaimed Peter.
The small person in the striped coat whirled and faced Peter with
snapping eyes. "Don't call me Striped Chipmunk, and don't call me
Gopher!" said he very fiercely for so small a person. "I am neither one.
I am Seek-Seek the Ground Squirrel, and I'll thank you to call me by my
own name. I am getting everlastingly tired of being called the names of
other people."
Peter looked very foolish. "I beg your pardon," said he. "I do indeed.
I'm sorry. Perhaps you don't know it, but you look very much like
Striped Chipmunk, who is one of my best friends. You look so much like
him that I thought you must be him. I wonder if you are related to him."
"Certainly I'm related to him, or he is related to me, whichever way you
please to put it," snapped Seek-Seek. "We are cousins. But he is a Rock
Squirrel, and I am a Ground Squirrel which is altogether different. You
don't find me where there are rocks and stones in the way if I know it.
Besides, if you used your eyes, you would see that we are not dressed
alike either. Just because we both happen to wear stripes is no reason
why we should be mistaken for each other."
Peter looked at Seek-Seek more closely than he had, and at once he made
a discovery. "Why!" he exclaimed, "your coat has more stripes than
Striped Chipmunk's has, hasn't it?"
"I should hope so," retorted Seek-Seek.
"And it has little rows of spots, too!" cried Peter. "If I had noticed
those spots at first, I wouldn't have made such a foolish mistake. I do
believe that your coat is prettier than Striped Chipmunk's, and I had
thought his as pretty as a coat can be."
Seek-Seek looked rather pleased, though he tried not to. "Huh!" he
sniffed. "Of course it's prettier. It took you a long time to find it
out. I wouldn't trade coats with Striped Chipmunk or anybody else of my
acquaintance."
"Neither would I if I were in your place," declared Peter. "I wish Old
Mother Nature had given me a coat like that." He said this so wistfully
that Seek-Seek, who had started to laugh, turned his head so that Peter
might not know it. "I'm afraid it wouldn't look so well on one as big as
you," he replied. "Anyway, you wouldn't be able to hide from your
enemies as you can now."
"That's so," said Peter thoughtfully. "I would be easily seen in a coat
like that, for a fact. I hadn't thought of that. I guess Old Mother
Nature knows best. I--I wonder how she ever happened to think of a coat
like yours."
Seek-Seek chuckled. He had quite forgotten that he had felt offended
because Peter had mistaken him for his cousin, Striped Chipmunk. He
enjoyed Peter's admiration of his coat. He is naturally rather
talkative, and like most folks he enjoyed talking about himself.
"This coat," said he, "has been in the family a very great while. Of
course, I don't mean this particular coat that I am wearing," he
hastened to add, as he saw Peter beginning to grin. "I mean this style
of coat has been in the family a very long time. My father was dressed
just as I am. So was his father and--"
"I know," interrupted Peter. "You were going to say that so were all
your grandfathers way back to the days when the world was young, and Old
Mother Nature made the very first one of your family. It's funny to me
that all the interesting things happened such a long time ago. Now
wasn't that what you were going to say?"
Seek-Seek admitted that it was, and looked a little disappointed that
Peter had guessed it. But a second later he felt better when Peter
asked him very politely but very earnestly for the story of how the
first Ground Squirrel got such a pretty coat. "There is a story. I know
there is a story," declared Peter. "Won't you tell it to me please,
Seek-Seek?"
Now Peter didn't want to hear it any more than Seek-Seek wanted to tell
it, so while Peter squatted down comfortably, Seek-Seek sat up very
straight and began the story.
"First of all, you must know that Seek-Seek is an old family name which
has been handed down just as the pattern of my coat has been. The very
first of all my great-great-grandfathers was called Seek-Seek. When Old
Mother Nature made Seek-Seek she must have had two families in mind at
one time, the Marmot family and the Squirrel family, for she made him a
little like each, so that in his looks he sort of fitted in between the
two. Mother Nature told him that he was a member of the Squirrel family
and set him free to find a place for himself in the Great World.
"Now it didn't take Grandfather Seek-Seek long to find out that though
he might be a member of the Squirrel family, Old Mother Nature had
failed to furnish him with the right kind of claws for climbing trees,
as most of his cousins did. True, he could climb a little, but it was
not easy, and he felt anything but comfortable off the ground. But if
those claws were of little use for climbing they were splendid tools for
digging, just as are the claws of the Marmot family. So Old Mother
Nature must have been thinking of the Marmots when she fashioned those
claws.
"At first Seek-Seek wandered about trying to find a place for himself
in the Great World. Being a Squirrel, he tried to live as did his
cousins, Mr. Red Squirrel and Mr. Gray Squirrel, but on account of those
claws he didn't make much of a success of it. Then one day he met Mr.
Chipmunk. They stopped and stared at each other in surprise because, you
know, their coats were so much alike. At that time Seek-Seek was wearing
plain stripes, just as Striped Chipmunk does to this day.
"'What do you mean by stealing my coat?' demanded Mr. Chipmunk angrily.
"'I was just about to ask you the same question,' retorted Seek-Seek.
"Mr. Chipmunk had a sharp reply right on the tip of his tongue, but he
checked it just in time. 'What's the use of quarreling over something
neither of us had anything to do with?' said he. 'It must be that we are
cousins. Where do you live?'
"Seek-Seek explained that he didn't live anywhere in particular but was
trying to find his place in the Great World. He told how he had tried to
live like the other Squirrels and failed. 'I know! I know all about it,'
interrupted Mr. Chipmunk. 'I've been all through it. The place for us is
on the ground or at least close to it. Come see how I live.'
"So Seek-Seek went with Mr. Chipmunk and saw how he lived among the
rocks and stones. For a time he tried living there too, but he didn't
like the rocks and stones much better than he did the trees. Besides,
all the neighbors were forever mistaking him for Mr. Chipmunk because
they looked so much alike, and he didn't like this. One day he wandered
out on the Green Meadows. It was very lovely out there among the grasses
and flowers. He wandered farther and farther, and the farther he
wandered the better he liked it. By and by he came to the home of
Yap-Yap the Prairie Dog, who is one of the Marmot family, as you know.
"'A home like that would suit me,' thought Grandfather Seek-Seek
wistfully, as he journeyed on. 'I wonder if I could dig one. I believe
I'll try.'
"So when he found a place to suit him he began to dig. There were no
stones to hurt his feet and dull his nails, and he actually enjoyed
digging. So he dug and dug until he had a wonderful underground home.
All about were plenty of seeds and tender grasses to eat, and he was
happy. He had found his place in the Great World. Then one day along
came Old Mother Nature. 'Hello, Mr. Chipmunk,' she exclaimed, as she
caught sight of his striped coat, 'what are you doing way out here?'
"Then she discovered her mistake. 'Dear me,' said she, 'this will never
do at all. If I can't tell my own children apart, how can I expect
others to? Your coat is altogether too much like that of Mr. Chipmunk. I
must change it. I certainly must change it.'
"She leaned over and lightly tapped Seek-Seek right down the length of
the broadest brown stripe of his coat. Wherever her finger touched a
little spot of yellow was left. Then she did the same thing to each of
the other brown stripes. When she had finished Grandfather Seek-Seek had
a coat exactly like the one I am now wearing, and his cup of happiness
was filled to the brim. From that day on he never was mistaken for Mr.
Chipmunk or any one else. That's the story of my coat, and now I must
get busy collecting seeds for my storehouse," concluded Seek-Seek. "Come
and see me again, Peter Rabbit."
"I will," replied Peter, as he started for the dear Old Briar-patch to
tell Mrs. Peter all about Seek-Seek and his pretty coat.
XIII
WHERE OLD MR. OSPREY LEARNED TO FISH
Peter Rabbit had seen a very strange thing. It was strange to Peter,
anyway. It gave him something to think about, and this, I am sure you
will agree, was a most excellent thing, for it kept him out of mischief
for a while. He had been over to the Smiling Pool for a call on Jerry
Muskrat and had just started back for the dear Old Briar-patch when he
chanced to look over in the direction of the Big River. Coming straight
towards him, but high in the air, was a big bird, a bird with broad
wings. Peter didn't have to look twice to know that it was a member of
the Hawk family. At first he thought it was Redtail. Then he caught a
flash of white, and he thought it was Whitetail the Marsh Hawk, in spite
of the fact that it didn't fly like him. Peter didn't stop to think of
that. It was enough for him that a member of the Hawk family was headed
that way, and he didn't care a twitch of his funny little tail which
member it was. He felt that the stomach of one was quite as undesirable
a place for Peter Rabbit as the stomach of another, and he had no
intention of filling any if he could help it.
He remembered that there was an old house of Johnny Chuck's under the
Big Hickory-tree on the bank of the Smiling Pool, and he wasted no time
in getting there, lipperty-lipperty-lip, as fast as he could go. He
would stay there until the way was clear to get home to the dear Old
Briar-patch. As soon as he was safe in the old house of Johnny Chuck, he
turned and poked his head out of the doorway. He wanted to see if any
one would be caught. He hoped not, but if any one was caught, he wanted
to see. You know Peter never misses anything if he can help it. On came
Mr. Hawk, and when he was right over the Smiling Pool, he turned and
made a short circle high in the air. Then Peter saw that he had a white
waist-coat and was a stranger.
"I wonder who he is?" thought Peter, staring very hard. "He's bigger
than either Redtail or Whitetail. I hope he isn't going to make his home
here, because we have trouble enough as it is."
Suddenly Mr. Hawk paused high up in the air, then closed his wings and
shot straight down like an arrow. Plunge! Peter couldn't believe his own
eyes. Mr. Hawk actually had disappeared in the Smiling Pool! A second
later there was a great splashing, and out of the water rose Mr. Hawk,
flapping his great wings heavily, scattering spray in all directions.
Up, up he went, and then Peter saw that in his great claws was a fish.
Peter watched him fly away with the fish, and when he felt that it was
quite safe to do so, he came out. Over on the end of an old log among
the bulrushes sat Jerry Muskrat just where Peter had left him. It was
very plain that Jerry hadn't been the least bit frightened by Mr. Hawk.
Peter couldn't understand it. His eyes fairly popped out of his head
with excitement and curiosity.
"Who was that?" he asked eagerly.
"That? Why, that was Plunger the Osprey, though some people call him
Fish Hawk," replied Jerry. "I thought everybody knew him. Why did you
run away, Peter? He wouldn't hurt you."
"Huh! I wouldn't trust _any_ Hawk!" snapped Peter.
"Which goes to show how little you know!" retorted Jerry Muskrat.
"Plunger never bothers anybody but the fish, but he surely is a terror
to them. Old Mother Nature knew what she was doing when she made
fishermen out of that family, didn't she?"
"She certainly did, though I've never heard how she came to do it. How
did it happen, Jerry?" Peter was doing some fishing himself. He was
fishing for a story.
Jerry Muskrat grinned. "Think you'll sleep any better if I tell you?"
he inquired.
Peter grinned back and nodded. So Jerry Muskrat told him this story:
"Way back in the days when the world was young, and the
great-great-ever-so-great-grandfathers of all the little people of the
Green Meadows and the Green Forest of today were being started out in
life by Old Mother Nature, they had everything to learn. The Great World
was a new place, and they were new in it. No one knew exactly his place
or what was expected of him, and Old Mother Nature was too busy to be
bothered with questions. She expected each one to work out for himself a
way in which to make himself useful, or at least to take care of
himself, without bothering her. If he couldn't do that, she didn't want
him around at all, and the sooner something happened to him the better.
So the Great World began to be peopled with birds and animals.
"It didn't take them long to learn that it wouldn't be possible for all
to live if they all ate the same kind of food. So some learned to eat
one thing and some another, and all went happily until there came a time
when all food was scarce, and more stomachs were empty than full. You've
heard about that hard time and sad time?"
Peter nodded, and Jerry took a drink of water and then went on with his
tale.
"Of course, that was really a very dreadful time, for it was then that
the strong began to hunt the weak, and fear was born into the world. And
yet I guess it wasn't wholly bad. Nothing is, so far as I can find out.
Anyway, because of that hard time, everybody became a little smarter
than before. You know an empty stomach sharpens wit, and fear puts a
fine edge on it. Now Mr. Osprey, who was one of the biggest of the
cousins of old King Eagle, couldn't get over a feeling of meanness
whenever he hunted those smaller than himself. One day he caught little
Mr. Sparrow when little Mr. Sparrow was so busy that he forgot to watch
out.
"'I'm powerful sorry, Mr. Sparrow,' apologized Mr. Osprey, 'but there's
an emptiness just about your size in my stomach, and it won't give me
any peace of mind until it's filled. I hate to make a neighbor
uncomfortable, and I'll be just as quick and accommodating about this
little matter as I can. If you'll just shut your eyes, you won't see
anything unpleasant, and I won't be a minute in getting that peace of
mind I've been without so long. I just must have it, or I wouldn't
bother you at all. I hope you won't hold it against me, Mr. Sparrow.'
"Mr. Osprey was so nice and polite about it that little Mr. Sparrow
perked up a little and started his wits working. He tried to be just as
nice and polite as Mr. Osprey. 'I know just how you feel, Mr. Osprey,'
said he, in a trembling voice, 'and during these hard times I've had
that same ailment of the mind because of lonesomeness of the stomach,
which is troubling you. So long as that emptiness is filled, I don't
suppose it matters to you if I shouldn't happen to fill it.'
"'Not at all,' replied Mr. Osprey.
"'Mr. Osprey,' said little Mr. Sparrow very earnestly, 'if I were in
your place, I never would go hungry. No, Sir, I never would go hungry.
And I certainly never, never would trouble any of my neighbors who wear
feathers. I certainly would feel most happy if Old Mother Nature had
given me what she has given you. Indeed I would.'
"Mr. Osprey looked down at little Mr. Sparrow and blinked at him in a
puzzled way. 'What has Old Mother Nature given me that you would be
happy to have?' he asked.
"'Fishhooks!' replied little Mr. Sparrow, pointing to Mr. Osprey's great
claws, 'the finest fishhooks in the world. You don't hear Billy Mink or
Little Joe Otter or Mr. Heron complaining about hard times. Why? Because
they don't know what hard times are. There are plenty of fish to be
caught, and when they are hungry they go fishing. Fish are very filling
and satisfying, I've heard say. When I flew across the Smiling Pool a
little while ago, I saw a fat fish taking a sun-bath right close to the
top of the water. Seemed like he was just waiting for some one with
hooks to come along and snatch him right out of the water.'
"'Where'd you say that fish was?' asked Mr. Osprey.
"'If you'll let me go, I'll show you,' replied little Mr. Sparrow.
"So Mr. Osprey let little Mr. Sparrow go, but he followed him right
close. Mr. Sparrow led the way straight to the Smiling Pool. Sure
enough, there was the big fish taking a sun-bath. Mr. Osprey hardly wet
his feet putting those big hooks into that fish. He flew away with it,
and presently he was rid of that emptiness in his stomach and had back
his peace of mind. After that, whenever he was hungry, he went fishing
instead of hunting the birds and the animals. By practice he learned how
to use those big fishhooks of his and became one of the smartest of all
fishermen. He and little Mr. Sparrow became great friends, in fact, such
friends that when Mr. Osprey built a great nest, little Mr. Sparrow
built his right in the side of it, and there he was perfectly safe from
others who might be hunting him. And it's been just that way ever since.
If you wore scales instead of fur, and lived in the water instead of on
the land, Peter Rabbit, you would have reason to fear Plunger the
Osprey, but as it is, you are safer when he is about than when he isn't.
There comes old Redtail the Hawk. You'd better get out of sight, Peter."
Peter did.
XIV
WHERE OLD MR. BOB-CAT LEFT HIS HONOR
Of all those who are forever trying to catch Peter Rabbit, he fears none
more than Yowler the Bob-cat. And from that fear has grown hate. You
will find it true all through life that hate often springs from great
fear. Peter isn't much given to hate, but he does hate Yowler the
Bob-cat. It is partly because of his fear of Yowler, but it is still
more because he feels that Yowler is not fair in his hunting. He has no
honor. There are many others whom Peter fears,--Reddy Fox, Old Man
Coyote, Hooty the Owl,--and with very good reason. But Peter considers
that these hunt him fairly. He knows when and where to be on the watch
for them.
But with Yowler it is altogether different. Yowler hides beside one of
Peter's favorite little paths, and there he waits patiently for
unsuspecting Peter to come along. He waits and watches much as Black
Pussy, who is a cousin of Yowler, waits and watches at a mousehole.
Peter feels that it doesn't give him a chance, and everybody is entitled
to at least a chance to live.
"I hate him! hate him! hate him!" exclaimed Peter fiercely, as he
crawled under the very middle of a great pile of brush after the
narrowest of narrow escapes. He had been hopping along one of his
favorite little paths without a thought of danger. Presently he came to
a little branch path. There he hesitated. He had intended to keep on
along the main path, but suddenly he had a feeling that it would be
better to take the branch path. He knew no reason why he shouldn't keep
on as he had planned. It was just a feeling that it would be better to
take the other path, a feeling without any real reason. So he hesitated
and finally turned down the little branch path. As he did so he caught a
glimpse of a brown form moving stealthily from behind a log farther up
the main little path. It was moving swiftly in the direction of the
little branch path. That glimpse was enough for Peter. That stealthy
form could be but one person--Yowler the Bob-cat. He turned and darted
back the way he had come and then off to one side to the great pile of
brush under which he had crawled.