_"The Strawberries are ripening,"
Old Bob the gardener said,
"And I must thin the beets next week,
They're crowded in their bed;
So I shall go to town today,
While there's not much to do;"
"O dear, O dear," said Buddy Jim
"I wish I might go too!"_
For Buddy Jim _knew_ that he was going to have a _very_ lonely day!
There was no doubt about it. He liked well enough being in the country,
when he could tramp about after Old Bob the gardener, and plant things,
and pull up other things, and learn the name of every thing and the
reason for it.
Old Bob the gardener said every day that he had never before seen a
"city chap" who learned so easily to tell the weeds from the plants,
and who knew just which things to take from the garden to feed to his
pet rabbits.
But Old Bob the gardener was going to town for a whole long day! And
there was nothing to do; and even if there had been anything to do,
there was nobody to do it _with_; and he was just plain lonesome; but
he s'posed he'd have to feed his rabbits; so he started to the garden
for some weeds.
Just then Mother called: "Buddy Jim! Are you there?" "Yes, Mother,"
said Buddy Jim, running back to the porch where Mother was standing in
her pretty, cool-looking pink dress, with her hair blowing in little
curls around her face.
Buddy Jim loved to look at his Mother. She was _so_ pretty!
"Buddy," said his Mother, "do you think you could go down to the edge
of the Fir thicket and get me some more Fir tips for the Porch pillows?"
"Why, yes, Mother, of course I can, and I will, too, just as soon as I
have fed my rabbits," said Buddy Jim.
"That's a good son," said Mother, "and you'd better go around to the
kitchen and ask Mary the maid for a basket and some blunt-pointed
scissors. And be careful about poison ivy, son; there's a bunch of it
down near the edge of the Fir thicket that Bob the gardener has not had
time to destroy."
"Don't worry, Mother," said Buddy Jim, "I know that stuff when I see
it, and I'll be sure to keep away from it." And the little boy whistled
to Old Dog Sandy to come along, happy that he had found something to do.
It was lots of fun running across the fields to the woods. The
grass was long and wet with the dew of the morning, and it curled
around Buddy Jim's little bare legs just as though it loved to have
little bare-legged boys wade through it. Old Dog Sandy thought it
was wonderful to chase the big gray Grasshoppers that flew up in all
directions, with a ch-r-r-r, that sounded just like a pin-wheel on the
Fourth of July.
Pretty soon they came to the Fir thicket, where all the young Fir trees
were standing like tall young ladies in pale green dresses ready to go
to church on a Sunday morning.
Buddy began carefully to cut off the pale green tips of the boughs as
his Mother had shown him, while Old Dog Sandy roamed through the bushes
amusing himself.
Buddy Jim's basket was almost full of the fragrant Fir tips, and he was
just going to whistle for Old Dog Sandy, to come home with him, when
there was a _dreadful_ commotion from inside of the Fir thicket. It
was Old Dog Sandy barking for all he was worth, in a way that Buddy
knew meant, "Come here, _quickly_, and see what _I've_ found!"
So Buddy Jim put his basket down and ran into the Fir thicket, where he
found Old Dog Sandy doing his best to climb an old dead Fir tree, which
was much taller than the rest of the trees, at the same time barking
his _very fiercest_ at something that was perched up on a limb of the
tree. Something that was very much alive, and looked like a big round
pin-cushion stuck full of pins, points up.
"Hello!" said Buddy Jim, "What's the matter here?" "Matter enough, _I_
should say," chattered a very indignant little voice, "and you'd better
call off that foolish old dog of yours if you want to save him trouble.
He'll be a sorry dog if he bites me!"
"Don't be afraid of Sandy," said Buddy Jim. "He _is_ an old dog. I've
had him always, and his bark is worse than his bite; besides, he can't
climb a tree anyway; he just thinks he can!"
The round Pin-cushiony Person in the tree just laughed. "Bless your
heart," he said, "_I'm_ not _afraid_ of Old Dog Sandy; I'm just being
polite to him because he's a _City_ dog and doesn't know any better
than to try to bite me; any country dog would _know_ better."
"You go outside and lie down, Sandy," said Buddy Jim, and when the old
dog had gone, growling deep down in his throat because he did not want
to go, he turned to the Pin-cushiony Person and said, "Now tell me what
your name is and _why_ Sandy would be a sorry dog if he should bite
you."
"You must have read about me in books," said the Pin-cushiony Person,
"and if you would think a bit you would know that my name is Prickly
Porcupine. My pins are stuck in _very loosely_, so if a dog bites me he
gets something to remember me by. He gets a mouthful of pins that do
not come out very easily and I don't get hurt very much. Sometimes,
just for fun, I let one start to bite me, and just as he thinks he has
me I hit him in the mouth with my tail, and he goes home in a hurry to
ask his master to pull my pins out!"
"I don't call that being very friendly," said Buddy Jim. "It isn't
very friendly for dogs to try to bite me, either, just because they're
bigger than I am," said the Pin-cushiony Person. "Mother Nature made me
the way I am, so I'd have some way of defending myself. I'm so _fat_,
and my legs are so _short_ that I do not run very well, and besides, I
don't feel like running away from my enemies."
"Well, I don't blame you for that," said Buddy Jim. "Nobody likes to
run, even if the other fellow _is_ the biggest. I don't! I know just
how you feel about that. But do tell me. What do you do all the time?
Do you live all alone?"
"Not all the time," answered the Pin-cushiony Person, "I have a family;
but we are rather independent people and _like_ to be alone. Days I
sleep mostly, unless I am disturbed, as I was by your Old Dog Sandy
just now, and nights I go out for food."
"What do you eat?" asked Buddy Jim. "I'm almost afraid to tell you,"
said the Pin-cushiony Person, "for fear that you'll tell old Bob the
gardener, but I live in this Fir thicket because it is so near to the
farm of your Father."
"Why should Bob the gardener care?" asked Buddy Jim. "Well you see,"
said the Pin-cushiony Person, "I go out at night and I nibble a bit
here, and a bit there, from old Bob's garden, and I know how very
particular he is about his garden and so I know if he ever catches me
at it I shall be driven away from the Fir thicket."
"Do people hunt you much?" asked Buddy Jim. "Not very much nowadays"
answered the Pin-cushiony Person, "but I've heard old Grandfather
Porcupine tell stories to the Young Ones. He said his Grandfather had
told him about the times when the Red Men lived in the forests, and
used to hunt our people with bows and arrows. And how the Red Women
used to cook us to feed their children, and to use our quills that
Mother Nature had given us to defend ourselves with to trim their
dresses and moccasins." "But those dreadful days are all over," he
went on, "and now about all we have to fear are the eagles and the
larger animals." "Aren't they afraid of your sharp pins?" asked Buddy
Jim. "Some of them are, after they get one mouthful," answered the
Pin-cushiony Person, "but Old Man Fisher is always hungry and willing
to take a chance of getting stuck full of pins. But if you don't mind,
Buddy Jim, I'm a bit sleepy--it always makes me drowsy to talk--so I'll
say Goodbye and just turn over and have my nap out."
"Goodbye, old Mr. Porcupine," said Buddy Jim, "and good luck to you."
And he picked up his basket of Fir tips and whistled to Old Dog Sandy,
who was still growling.
"Old Dog Sandy and I ran on to Old Prickly Porcupine down in the Fir
thicket today," said Buddy Jim to Old Bob the gardener, that night.
"And Old Dog Sandy wanted to bite him."
"He would have been a sorry old dog if he had," said Old Bob the
gardener.
But Old Dog Sandy just opened one eye, and tapped the ground with his
tail.
He was thinking that some day when there was nobody looking, he was
going back to that Fir thicket alone! And he was going to _show_ that
old Pin-cushiony Person!
[Illustration]
[Illustration: They were very pretty little Neighbors]
[Illustration]