the head of the house—or rather the big tree without any leaves—Mother
Raccoon had to let them all go.
“But as they were following Daddy Raccoon, she called out to them, ‘If
anything happens to you wish very hard that you will be all right and the
Fairy Queen may possibly be near-by and will grant you the wish.’
“Daddy Raccoon sniffed with scorn at such a remark, but he said that
Mother Raccoon was such a sweet old dear she even thought well of the
Rabbit family—and so she was apt to think so much of the Fairies in the
same way.
“And off they all started. Some of the little ’Coons were rather proud at
going off to hunt in the swamp and really pretended they were tired of
Fairy Stories and were glad that Daddy Raccoon had thought it was time
for them to grow up.
“Soon they reached the swamp and in they went to hunt for food to last
them many days, as Daddy Raccoon had said.
“They did just as they were told and were beginning to be very good
hunters and were learning just how to pick out the best parts of the
swamp—when suddenly—an awful bang was heard near-by.
“‘Oh, dear; oh, dear,’ shouted the little ’Coons.
“‘Do be quiet, or they’ll know where we are,’ said Daddy Raccoon.
“The second bang sounded very much nearer and they all trembled, when one
little ’Coon said, ‘Oh, if any little Fairy is hovering near—please tell
the horrid man with the gun to go away.’ And, would you believe it, that
man was heard to say:
“‘Well, I guess they’re all away for the day and I won’t try to catch
Raccoons until to-morrow.’ Then Daddy Raccoon took all the little ones
back to the old tree where Mother Raccoon was sitting curled up, shaking
with fear while waiting.
“‘Tell them all the stories you want to,’ said Daddy Raccoon, ‘for one of
your Fairy friends saved all our lives and whispered to the man with the
gun to go home!’”
JUNE 5: The New Mole Home
“Mr. Mole was going to get married,” said daddy, “and he wanted to build
a fine, fine home for the new Mrs. Mole. So he went forth into the nicest
meadow he could find, and there, just at the end of it, near an old
fence, Mr. Mole started to burrow into the ground.
“You know the Moles live underground almost all of the time, and there
make their homes. Just near the fence Mr. Mole began to dig and dig.
First of all he made a long, long tunnel, a funny underground passage
which he called the Drive-Way of his Home!
“Of course the callers of Mr. and Mrs. Mole could hardly drive along this
tunnel, but they could run and scamper along, and they liked to call it
by a big name like Drive-Way.
“And after the long, long tunnel Mr. Mole started in to make a fine
house out of the earth. He made lovely rooms, one for Mrs. Mole, one
for himself, one for the little Mole who was to do the cooking and
housekeeping and several guest rooms. For, as you can imagine, Mr. Mole
was very fond of company. In addition to all this Mr. Mole built a very
fine picture gallery—made in tiers of earth and mud—long rows and rows of
it. On these he put pictures of his family which he made out of earth,
too. Of course, Mr. Mole made every member of his family look just alike,
but that didn’t make any difference. The Moles are not very fussy if
their pictures aren’t very well taken, for they can’t bother to look at
pictures much of the time.
“You see their eyes are very small and they like to look at things more
worth while—such as food and corn starting to grow in the ground and all
the things the farmers plant. They love farms, you know, where wonderful
vegetables are planted deep down in the earth. They are very apt to
burrow along and make paths so they can walk to a farmland and have a
feast.
“But I must tell you more about Mr. Mole’s new home. The very last thing
he did was to build a beautiful throne in the picture-gallery for Mrs.
Mole.
“At last it was time for her to come to her new home and Mr. Mole had
invited their friends and cousins, the Mole-Crickets, to come, too. These
cousins have very strangely shaped front legs with which they burrow
homes just like the regular Moles, and so they are considered relations.
“‘Here we all are,’ said Mrs. Mole, and she blinked her very small eyes,
while all the other Moles blinked their tiny eyes, too, and looked about
them. Through the Drive-Way they ran until they came to the house with
all the beautiful rooms.
“The room Mr. Mole took them to last was the picture-gallery, where Mrs.
Mole sat on the throne in honor of her wedding day, and the little Mole,
who cooked, brought out some of the delicious stewed vegetables she had
made for the wedding feast.
“You should have heard the Moles as they looked at the pictures. They
thought every picture was one of their own relatives.
“One Mole would say:
“‘Why, there’s Mama,’ and another would say:
“‘Why, no, that’s not your Mama, that’s my Papa.’ However, they didn’t
get in the least angry about the pictures—in fact, they thought it very
clever of Mr. Mole to make pictures which looked like all their relations
at the same time.
“‘But you haven’t noticed my wedding dress,’ said Mrs. Mole. ‘I think my
new Home is S-C-R-U-M-P-T-I-O-U-S, which means beautiful in case any of
you little Moles don’t understand the word I’ve said in honor of the day.
And now that you’ve all admired my home, please admire my dress.’
“For the first time the Moles noticed that Mrs. Mole had attached to her
tiny ears little earrings made of mud with a red berry in each, and she
wore a necklace to match. Her dress was of dull oak leaves which Mrs.
Mole had saved for a whole year to wear on her wedding day.
“‘You’re a handsome Mole,’ said Mr. Mole, ‘and I’m so proud you’re to
share this home I’ve made,’ and all the other Moles grinned and ate more
and more of the vegetable wedding feast to show what a good time they
were having.”
JUNE 6: The Green Canoe
“I think I will tell you about a very lucky little girl who once received
a canoe from her big brother,” said daddy.
“This little girl loved the water. She had always lived near a lake, and
she could swim and row.
“Now, this little girl had a great big brother who worked in an office in
the big city. He had only a short holiday every year—just two weeks—but
during those two weeks he would come home and teach her new strokes in
swimming and new ways of diving, for he was very anxious that no one
should be able to excel his sister as a swimmer.
“And secretly he longed to give his sister a canoe so she could go on the
water just as much as she wanted to, and, as she was such a good swimmer,
he felt it would be perfectly safe for her to own one.
“But, of course, a canoe is quite expensive, and the heads of offices in
the big city do not consider that the big brothers may want to buy their
little sisters canoes with the money they earn. Perhaps they think it
is very silly to even dream of such things as canoes. But slowly during
the winter the big brother had saved just as much money as a canoe would
cost, and in June he wrote his sister a little note.
“In the note he said that he had a ‘little present’ for her which he had
had put in the cellar and that she would find it there if she went and
looked.
“Now, the little girl could not for a moment imagine what kind of a
present would be put in the cellar. But she hurried down to see.
“And there—right before her eyes—was a lovely big green canoe—just the
very nicest shade of green—and there beside it were the two paddles.
Well, she could hardly speak. She had never dreamed that she would own a
canoe, or, anyway, not for years and years and years.
“On the canoe was printed ‘Indian Girl,’ but she at once named it
Papoose, which means, you know, a little Indian baby.
“You see, her big brother had arranged that the canoe should be taken
down into the cellar when the little girl was asleep, so the surprise
would be perfect. And it certainly was!
“In another week the big brother came up from the city, and they spent
all their time in the green canoe on the lake.”
JUNE 7: The Bunnie and the Fox
“In the woods,” said daddy, “there lived a mother Rabbit and all her
little children. They had a beautiful home—as nice as could be, in one of
the finest brier patches ever known. Mother Rabbit was really extremely
proud of her home and used to give many fine receptions there for the
animals. Especially wonderful were her carrot receptions. The thing
that worried Mother Rabbit most of all was that little Bunnie Bonnie,
her youngest son, was very, very curious. Of course, Rabbits are always
inclined to be curious, but Bunnie Bonnie was even more so than most of
his family. And he was sociable. Entirely too sociable his mother thought.
“He liked to go to every party that was given in the woods—even if the
parties were not given by his friends.
“Now, one day a black fox moved to the woods to live. None of the animals
were pleased to hear that he’d come to stay, for that meant they would
have to think of getting out of his way, and doing as he said. Many of
the animals left food at the entrance to his home so he wouldn’t eat them
up instead!
“Mr. Black Fox looked all about the neighborhood and he noticed Bunnie
Bonnie scampering around more than any of the others. So one day he spoke
to him and this is what he said:
“‘I’m glad to see you’re a brave Rabbit, and that you’re not afraid of
me. Some of these other silly Rabbits tremble when they see me and leave
me good things to eat—but I know why they do that. They want me to get
all through my meals at home, and not go looking near their homes for
extra delicacies—such as their small children.
“‘But it’s so absurd. They’re abusing me. Just because I’m black it
doesn’t mean that I’m cruel and bad. In fact, I’m very kind and very
good.’
“Of course, Bunnie Bonnie should have known that if Mr. Black Fox was so
good he wouldn’t have found it necessary to talk about it. But Bunnie
Bonnie never thought of that—and he forgot—completely forgot—that the Fox
family is known to be very sly.
“‘And,’ continued Mr. Black Fox, ‘I’d be greatly honored if you’d come to
supper with me this evening.’
“‘I’d be pleased to,’ said Bunnie Bonnie.
“Now, Bunnie Bonnie’s mother was giving one of her receptions that
afternoon so she told the children to play in the little garden she had
back of her home in the brier patch. And Bunnie Bonnie left his little
sisters and brothers to have supper with Mr. Black Fox.
“Mr. Black Fox was sitting outside his front door waiting for Bunnie
Bonnie. He was chuckling to himself, and his eyes looked very wicked and
cruel. But when he saw Bunnie Bonnie running up his path-way, he began to
smile and called out in the pleasantest tone he could use:
“‘Hello, Bunnie Bonnie.’
“‘Hello, Mr. Black Fox. Here I am, and, oh, I’m so hungry, too. I didn’t
stop to get any of my Mother’s carrots as they were being fixed for her
party, but came right along!’
“‘I’m going to have something better than carrots for my supper.’
“‘What?’ said Bunnie Bonnie in a cheery tone, for little did he suspect
the old Fox.
“‘I’m going to have you, you little stupid,’ roared Mr. Black Fox, but
Bunnie gave one bound and ran for the brier patch. He just reached there
ahead of Mr. Black Fox, and never again did he leave his family for new
friends.”
JUNE 8: The Homebody Bee
“Ah,” said Queen Bee, “I do not work, but I lay the eggs, and so I am
called the Queen Bee, for all the little eggs are my subjects and all
around me do everything they can to help me and to wait on me.
“When I tell you how many eggs a day I lay during the time when I feel in
the mood for laying, you will be surprised. The number amounts to from
two to three thousand eggs.
“You see, buzz buzz, I don’t like to do anything that is small. I don’t
care about doing little bits of work. I like to do a lot. That is why I’m
a queen; I am an important creature, and not just like all the rest!
“And I am waited on by my helpers who digest the food, the pollen which I
eat.
“I am fed royal jelly, a most deliciously sweet food made only and
served only to a Queen Bee who has been brought up in the Queen’s royal
chambers, or in the Queen Bee cell, as it is usually known.
“My workers have better eyesight than I have, and so they go in search of
the honey. During the summer I go from one cell to another laying my eggs.
“But I never leave the hive, though I may live to be several years old.
Sometimes it is true I go off upon a flight with my mate or with a swarm
of bees, but Queen Bee is a homebody.”
JUNE 9: Ladybug’s Lecture
“Dear little Ladybugs, gather around me,” said Ladybug, “for I am going
to give a lecture.
“It will be a free lecture, and pray, Ladybugs, do not think that on that
account it will be poor. Too many folks have the idea that nothing is
good that is free.
“They don’t bother to find out how many nice things are free, and they
don’t stop to think about them. Take birds and their concerts—quite free.
“And lovely wild flowers—quite free. And the woods and lakes and rivers
and ponds—practically all of them free. And many free concerts and oh, so
many things that if I go on talking about them I will never have time for
my lecture.
“So I shall begin my lecture if all the Ladybugs are ready, and if the
Ladybug who has charge of this hall (for I must call this place where I
am lecturing a hall) will kindly bring me an acorn filled with water I
shall be much obliged. Lecturers should always have such things by them,
and oh yes, a light and a pointer to point to my maps and my pictures.
But on second thought they won’t be necessary for I have no maps and no
pictures. Well, then, are we all ready?”
A little Ladybug came hurrying up with the acorn filled with water and
said in a low tone, “If you want any more I’ll bring it in to you.”
“Thanks,” said the Ladybug, who was about to lecture.
“Now, friends,” she began, “Mrs. President, Lady Chairman, I greet you.”
There was no Mrs. President and no Lady Chairman, but that didn’t make
any difference.
“I have something very fine to tell you. Something very fine upon a
subject which strikes close to the heart of all of us.”
Ladybug, the lecturer, placed one of her legs in the direction of her
heart and looked very fine indeed doing so.
In a moment or two she went on: “I have heard, and it is quite true, that
we have all been paid a very great compliment. We have been paid one of
the greatest of compliments.
“It has been both expensive and a bit difficult to get to Europe of
late—especially has it been too expensive, and I don’t believe any of the
Ladybugs have enough money in the Ladybugs’ bank to use that to go to
Europe.
“It’s a fine bank and it is nice to go to a bank where ladies are
especially looked after and all of that.
“But we haven’t enough money in the bank. Dear me no, not nearly enough.
“However, those of our family who were chosen to go weren’t asked how
much money they had at all. They weren’t even asked if they had any money.
“They weren’t even asked if they would pay for their laundry and their
own food.
“They were just invited to go and were told the work they would do would
be enough thanks for the opportunity they were having to travel.
“Yes,” said Ladybug, “many, many, many Ladybugs have been shipped to
France to destroy bad insects.
“Of course, I’m not sure whether the Ladybugs can talk French or not,
but they can work anyway and make the whole Ladybug world proud of them.
“But I think it would be interesting if we all studied a little
French so that we would be able to say how-do-you-do and good-by and
pleased-to-meet-you in French, in case we’re called upon next. And my
lecture is not only free. It is quite, quite true.”
“Ah,” said all the Ladybugs when they had finished cheering the speaker,
“we will all study a little French and be ready. Ah, what an honor for
the Ladybugs of this land!”
“Gorgeous,” said Ladybug, the lecturer.
JUNE 10: The Waves’ Wishes
“We are mad, Mother Ocean,” said some of the waves. “We’ve never been
given a fair chance. We’ve always been here—your children; we’ve had
to do just as you said. We’ve been allowed to play when you’ve been
perfectly willing we should play and when you’ve been willing to ask the
Wind to play with us. But we’ve had to do as you and the Wind said.
“And we’ve had to sleep when you’ve told us to. It’s not fair. Just
because we’re only some of the drops of water which belong to you we
haven’t any say of our own.”
“What is it you would like to do?” asked Mother Ocean in her deep, great
voice.
“We’d like to see more of the world,” they said.
“We’d like to go traveling. We’d like to see what the cities and forests
are like; we’d like to see some other creatures beside fishes and people
swimming in us. We’re tired of an ocean life.
“We want to live on the land. We want to do great things—what do we do
here that ever amounts to anything?”
“So you’d like to see the world?” asked Mother Ocean. “Well, Waves, go
forth; I won’t stop you. And may you come back to me with stories of
adventures!”
JUNE 11: The Waves’ Adventures
When the waves were told they could leave Mother Ocean they weren’t so
happy as they had expected to be.
They had really expected Mother Ocean to forbid them to go—then they
could continue grumbling, which they were quite enjoying. Now they felt
they must start at once to show that they were really anxious to see the
world. They didn’t want to let Mother Ocean see that they would rather
stay where they were quite comfortable and where they could grumble!
Mother Ocean was sighing a little.
“I’m sorry to see you go,” she said. “It’s the first time any of my
children or grandchildren have wanted to leave me.”
The Waves didn’t look at Mother Ocean. Instead, they pulled their
beautiful white caps down over their heads and shed a salt water tear
or two. Then they picked up their shell suit-cases from Mother Ocean’s
ground floor, packed in their sea-weed nighties and their best sea-green
suits and sea-blue party dresses and were off.
They ran over the beach and rudely went right over the feet of some
people who were sitting down on the beach reading books. Then they
scrambled on, stumbled and scrambled on a little farther.
“Oh dear,” said one of the waves; “oh dear, the sun makes me feel so
dizzy.”
“And I feel so hot and dry,” said another. “Oh dear, oh dear! I must
weep.” But not even any salt tears would come to the wave’s dry eyes.
“Are you ready to have adventures?” asked a little creature who suddenly
came up to the waves. He looked like a little brownie and he seemed quite
amused at meeting the waves. “I’ve heard you wanted to see the world and
to do great things,” he continued. They wanted to tell him he would look
far better in a cool green suit than in his warm-looking brown one, but
suddenly they realized that they could only speak the language of the
ocean and that he couldn’t understand them, though they could understand
him, for they had so often heard people speak.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” he grinned, “but I suppose you
mean to say ‘Yes,’ as I’ve been told you’ve come to see the world.
“Well, first we shall take a trip through some forests.”
They tried to follow the brownie, and found it was very hard work. He led
them along so fast, and they couldn’t make him understand that they’d
like a drink of water and a cooling bath.
Pretty soon they found themselves in some very dark forests. All around
them were strange birds calling to each other and singing songs about
juicy worms. The waves trembled, for they thought the birds might sing
soon about juicy waves, and then might swallow them down!
And they saw strange animals, rabbits and woodchucks and squirrels, all
quite small but very terrifying to the waves.
They saw some little red lizards and small snakes which wriggled along
and which didn’t seem in the least friendly like fishes.
After they had passed through the forests and had been frightened almost
out of their wits the brownie hurried them along to the edge of a city
and then right into the city.
JUNE 12: The Waves’ Story
The Waves begged the brownie to take them back to the ocean for they
said they had had adventures enough. And the night they got back Mother
Ocean gave a great ball. The wind came and danced and sang, the waves all
danced, the sea-shells laughed and sang and through it all Mother Ocean
kept smiling and singing to herself:
“Away from home.
They wanted to roam,
Away from the ocean deep.
And I did not say ‘No,’
But I let them go,
Though many salt tears did I weep.
But now they are home,
They no longer will roam,
Away from the ocean deep.
And they will say ‘No,’
If I suggest that they go,
So now I can sing and not weep.”
And ever since that day none of the Waves have ever wanted to leave their
Mother Ocean to adventure over the earth.
JUNE 13: A Poor Weed
“Somehow,” said the yarrow weed, “I have been left here and only a little
of the hay is left. It has all been cut down to feed to the animals. The
animals don’t like to eat me. They say I am so bitter. Ah, poor me, I
cannot help it if I am bitter.”
“Do not be so sad,” said Old Hay. “It isn’t so wonderful to be eaten.
Aren’t you happier above the earth, having the sun look down upon you and
the wind rustle by you, than to be inside a cow or a horse or a sheep?
“The farmer does not like you because you take up the room which might be
used by some grass which would be good for his animals.”
“Yes, I’m like an unwelcome visitor, a guest who isn’t welcome.”
“My dear Yarrow,” said Old Hay, “you mustn’t mind it if some creatures
don’t like you. There will always be some creatures who don’t like
something or some one. It is a waste of time worrying about it.”
“I won’t worry about it any more,” said the yarrow weed, “but I do wish
that I didn’t look so ragged and shabby all the time. I am such an ugly
gray color. My leaves look old as though I were very poor.”
“Oh dear,” sighed Old Hay, “I no sooner get rid of one worry for you than
you think up another. It’s all right to wear old things if you want to.
I have heard of people who wear their last year’s clothes so they can do
fine things with their money.”
“But I haven’t money,” said the yarrow weed.
“Dear me,” said Old Hay, “please cheer up. Of course you haven’t money.
You’re a weed, and as you say, you are a poor and rather unpopular weed.
“But you mustn’t be discouraged, for I’ve heard you were often used
as a charm. You are supposed to bring good luck and a long, happy and
prosperous life. So some people save a bit of you to keep for luck.”
“Ah, yes,” said the yarrow weed, “even though I am a poor weed I have
something to make me very proud and glad.”
JUNE 14: The Bicycle’s Joy
“I remember a story of my grandfather,” said the bicycle. “He was given
as a surprise to a little girl by her brother. She didn’t know what she
was going to have, only her brother told her she was going to have a
great and enormous surprise. I think my grandfather has often told the
story.
“The brother made up puzzles to help the sister guess what her surprise
was going to be but she simply couldn’t guess anything so wonderful as a
bicycle.
“The brother had saved up for ages and ages to give it to her—all paid
for out of money he had earned himself.
“Well, when my grandfather was given to her, he said that the little girl
just said, ‘Oh, brother,’ and put her arms around her brother’s neck and
the tears came to her eyes for very joy of the great, great surprise.
“I was afraid such days had gone. But at last I was sold and I find there
are lots of bicycles around and that children still do enjoy them.”
“Oh yes, indeed they do,” said the second bicycle.
“Oh,” said the first bicycle, “I am so joyous. My tires are full of joy
and air. My bell rings merrily. Oh, I’m a happy, happy bicycle.
“Now I don’t care if children do love airships and automobiles and all
sorts of modern toys and if they like kites because they fly so high in
the air and are so lovely, for they still have room in their hearts for
the loyal old bicycle friend.
“It’s a great joy to be a bicycle after all.”
JUNE 15: The Best Apple Tree of All
“Of all the trees in the orchard,” began daddy, “every spring this
old apple tree I am going to tell you about had the most beautiful of
blossoms. And when midsummer came the apples that came out on that tree
had, somehow, a better taste than the apples from any other tree. And one
day I found out the reason.
“I thought the hammock, which hung under the apple tree, looked very
comfortable, and so I made myself most cozy and happy. It was not long
before I dozed off into a nice little nap, and then I heard what the
apple tree was saying to the little unripe apples on the boughs.