Poor Mr. Crow! You never saw anybody look as sickly and foolish as he
did. He thought that he had made a dreadful mistake in marking the pies,
and that now he had got to eat or pretend to eat the mess of old leaves
and sticks that filled up the C. X. pie clear to the top. He never
thought of Mr. 'Possum's changing the crust, and even if he had, he
wouldn't have felt any better.
[Illustration: I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU'LL EVER KNOW JUST HOW BAD MR. CROW
DID FEEL.]
I don't suppose you'll ever know just how bad Mr. Crow did feel, unless
you get into a fix like that some time yourself. First he got hot and
then he got cold, and the sweat began to break out on his bill like dew
drops. He began to eat a little of the crust first, and then he was
afraid if he ate the crust away the others would see what was inside of
it, so he put his fork in and got a rolled up leaf with gravy on it and
whisked it into his mouth and chewed and tried to swallow till his eyes
stuck out and the tears ran down in a stream. He was glad that nobody
seemed to be looking at him, for everybody else was too busy eating the
nice pie, and Mr. 'Possum was just saying that he liked Mr. Crow's
surprises, for he always surprised them by having something better than
they expected.
Then he told how once, when they were snowed in, Mr. Crow had kept them
all from starving by making a kind of bread called Johnnie cake, and
some chicken gravy, and how they could never get him to tell where he
got the things to make it of.[1] He said he thought maybe Mr. Crow would
tell pretty soon, though, now. Then they all looked at Mr. Crow and
begged him to tell his great secret, and when they looked they saw he
wasn't eating his pie, but was just sitting there picking at it with his
fork a little. They all told him not to be afraid to eat some of his own
nice pie, for they were sure there'd be plenty, and Mr. Crow said in a
weakly voice that when he cooked he never could eat very much. He said
he guessed he'd take a biscuit and some syrup because he didn't feel
quite well, anyway. So he pushed the C. X. pie away and ate a biscuit
with butter and syrup on it, and felt a good deal better.
But pretty soon Mr. Turtle finished his piece and remembered what Mr.
'Possum had whispered about asking for a second helping. So he said he
guessed he'd take another piece of that fine pie--just a small one to
hold the other down. Mr. Rabbit said he guessed he'd have to ask for
another small piece, too, it was so good, and the Coon and the 'Possum
both said that, although they were home folks and used to Mr. Crow's
good cooking, they certainly would have to take another little piece of
that fine pie.
[Illustration: FAINTED DEAD AWAY.]
Then Mr. Crow knew there were only two things that he could do. He could
either faint, or "holler" "Fire!" And, after studying for about half a
second, he keeled right over and fainted dead away.
Of course that stopped the dinner for a while. Jack Rabbit and Mr.
Turtle jumped up frightened, and the 'Coon and the 'Possum pretended to
be frightened, too. They all ran to Mr. Crow and carried him up stairs
to his room and put him on his bed. Then Mr. 'Coon brought some water
and Mr. Rabbit fanned him and Mr. Turtle unbuttoned his vest to give him
air. Mr. 'Possum he stood still and gave orders, and said pretty soon
that he was sure a good strong hot mustard poultice would help matters.
When he said that Mr. Crow opened his eyes a little pinch and asked
where he was, and then he said he guessed he must have fainted, for he'd
been taken with a dreadful bad turn at the table and didn't remember any
more.
Mr. 'Possum winked at Mr. 'Coon and said yes, that Mr. Crow had even
forgot to give them a second helping of pie, but that he supposed Mr.
Rabbit and Mr. Turtle could go back and help themselves. Then the sweat
broke out on Mr. Crow again, and he said he hoped they wouldn't, for it
would be cold now and they would find the biscuits and syrup much
better. Jack Rabbit said he thought so, too, and the 'Possum, who was
really beginning to feel sorry for the poor Crow, said the same, and so
did the others. So then Mr. Crow got better as quick as anything, and
they all went back down stairs and ate the biscuits and syrup, which
were certainly very fine. Once Mr. Rabbit wondered what that nice, leafy
smell was that he got a whiff of now and then, and Mr. Turtle said he'd
been thinking about that, too. Then Mr. 'Coon helped out and said that
he s'posed it was Mr. Man and Mr. Dog burning brush over on the edge of
the Wide Grass Lands, and he went on to make a little speech that was
kind of a reply to Mr. Rabbit's poem. He said how nice it was to give
one's friends pleasant surprises of good things as Mr. Crow had done,
instead of unpleasant ones such as Mr. 'Possum had mentioned, and all
the others said, "Yes, Yes!" and cheered him, all except Mr. Crow, who
looked down into his plate and didn't say a word, but just seemed to be
thinking and thinking.
And by and by, when Jack Rabbit and Mr. Turtle said goodby and went
away, he hurried back to the table, and was just going to take the C. X.
pie up to his own part of the house, when Mr. 'Possum and Mr. 'Coon
grabbed him and said they must have a piece of that pie, after all. And
when Mr. Crow wasn't going to give it to them they both commenced to
laugh and said it was their pie anyway, and that they meant to have it.
And right then Mr. Crow knew just what had happened, and that it was no
use to be an April fool any longer. He stood still a minute, looking
first at Mr. 'Coon and then at Mr. 'Possum. Then he walked to the window
and flung the C. X. pie out as far as he could send it among the leaves
and brush, where it belonged. The 'Coon stood on one side and the
'Possum on the other, and they watched it strike and roll out of sight
before they said anything. Then Mr. 'Coon said that perhaps it would be
a good time now to tell the great secret of the Johnnie cake and gravy,
and Mr. Crow said he would do that and anything else they wanted him to
if they'd promise they wouldn't tell this joke on him to anybody--Mr.
Rabbit and Mr. Turtle especially. Then he went right on and told them
the great secret of the Johnnie cake, and the 'Coon and the 'Possum did
promise, though they didn't intend to tell anyway, for they thought a
great deal of Mr. Crow and they were all good friends.
"But, dear me!" exclaimed the story teller, "I've been telling for three
evenings on this story, and here it is nine o'clock again."
"You'll tell some more to-morrow night won't you?" said the Little Lady,
drowsily.
"We'll have a story about Mr. Jack Rabbit next time," said the story
teller.