_The golden glow was waving
Her pom-poms in the sun,
And the click of busy reapers said
That harvest had begun;
The Sumac trees were dressing up
In gowns of crimson hue
But there didn't seem to be a thing
A little boy could do._
Buddy Jim sat on the top step of the porch and didn't know _what_ to
do! He had fed the rabbits and chickens, and everybody else was busy!
He had been told that he must not go to the harvest field because the
men didn't want little boys around machinery; and _nearly_ he was
_lonesome_! Then Old Bob the gardener came by with his cheery whistle
and his "Hello, Buddy, old scout, what's doing today?" "Nothing," said
Buddy. "Why, Bob?" "Well," said Old Bob the gardener, "I'm pretty busy,
myself, today, and I was wondering if perhaps a little boy about your
size wouldn't be so kind as to go down to the far pasture and salt the
sheep for me."
"Why, of course I will," said Buddy Jim. "But, Bob, how _do_ you salt
sheep?"
"Oh," said Old Bob the gardener, "you just take some salt along and
sprinkle it on the ground. I always put it near the big flat rock just
inside the five barred gate. The sheep will come and get it. They will
be there by the time _you_ are most likely, because they can smell salt
a long way."
"Shall I take Old Dog Sandy along, Bob?" asked Buddy. "Better not,"
advised old Bob the gardener, "he wouldn't hurt them, I know, but the
sheep would not understand. They think all dogs are their enemies."
When Buddy got to the far pasture the sheep were all in sight nibbling
at the short grass. As soon as they saw him scattering the salt on
the ground, how they _did_ run to get it! Buddy climbed up on the
five-barred gate to watch them eat it. "They must think it's candy," he
said to himself.
After they had eaten every tiniest bit of the salt, the old bell
wether started away and all the others followed him. "They are going
to the spring now to get a drink," thought Buddy Jim. "So I think I'll
go home." But just then who should fly gracefully along and light
on the top bar of the five-barred gate quite near to Buddy Jim, but
Mr. Red-headed Woodpecker, dressed all in his very best. He paid no
attention at all to Buddy. He just sat there thinking about something.
Then he flew over to an old stump with a hole in one side of it for a
door, and began knocking loudly with his long bill on the side of the
stump.
Presently a little bit of a Mother person came to the door and peeped
out. When she saw who was there she drew her head back, and Buddy heard
her say: "Please, Mr. Woodpecker, don't make so much noise. My babies
can't sleep at all."
"O, so you are at home this time, Mrs. Harvest Mouse," said Red-headed
Woodpecker. "Well, I've come to collect my rent, if you please!"
"I am sorry, Mr. Woodpecker," said the little Mother person, "but there
isn't a thing in the house that you could use. Father Harvest Mouse has
had to get up early and go out to find something for our own breakfast."
"In that case," said Mr. Red-headed Woodpecker, "I'll wait until he
comes back, and if he doesn't bring something that I like better,
why, baby mice will taste pretty good," and he began drumming on the
old stump again. "I wonder what I can do to help that little Mother
person?" Buddy asked himself. He could hear the little Mother trying
to hush her frightened babies, and he knew that she was just as much
frightened as they were. Just then little Father Harvest Mouse came
running along the top bar of the five-barred gate. He had his mouth
full of heads of wheat. They stuck out from his funny little face just
like big whiskers, and he _could_ hardly see over them. He stopped
short as he heard Red-headed Woodpecker knocking at his door, and then
he saw Buddy Jim. "O dear, O dear," he said, as well as he could with
his mouth full of wheat, "this place is full of enemies! It is quite
time that we moved."
"I'm not your enemy," said Buddy Jim, softly.
"Aren't you?" said the little fellow. "Well, you can see for yourself
that Red-headed Woodpecker is."
"Why did he ask Mrs. Harvest Mouse for the rent?" asked Buddy. "Does
your house belong to him?"
"It once belonged to one of his family," said Father Harvest Mouse.
"But it had not been used in years and years until we found it and made
it over for a home for ourselves and our babies. He never bothers us
unless he knows we have small children. I scarcely ever leave home in
the day-time, but I went out today to find a new home. We shall move
tonight."
"Where are you going to live?" asked Buddy Jim. "We are going to move
nearer the wheat fields," said Father Harvest Mouse. "I am going to
build my own house this time. But I wish that old chap would fly away,
so I could go and feed my family. They must be nearly starved."
"I'll make him go away," said Buddy Jim, taking his sling shot from his
pocket. "I won't hit him, but I'll frighten him."
Mr. Red-headed Woodpecker was so busy knocking at Mother Harvest
Mouse's door that he did not notice anything at all until Bing! came a
stone from the sling shot. He flew over to the fence. Then as nothing
happened he flew back, and began knocking as before. Then Buddy Jim
sent another shot that hit the stump a little nearer _to_ the old
fellow. Then he saw Buddy, and with a saucy "Here, here, quit it, quit
it," he flew away.
"Thank you ever so much for helping us," said the little Father Mouse
as he ran home.
Buddy Jim stayed a while to see if Red-headed Woodpecker would come
back. But he didn't. "He must think I'm one of those fellows who really
mean to hurt the birds," said Buddy. "I'm sorry for that. But he wasn't
fair, and he's got to learn better. I wish he could behave himself.
He's so good looking I can't help liking him. But he's got to play
fair. He's got to play fair," said Buddy Jim, striking out for home.
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