[Illustration: HAD JACK RABBIT AND MR. TURTLE IN FOR SUPPER.]
Once upon a time, said the Story Teller, when the Crow and the 'Coon and
the 'Possum lived together in three big, hollow branches of a big big,
hollow tree in the big, big, Big Deep Woods, and used to meet and have
good times together in the parlor down stairs, they had Jack Rabbit and
Mr. Turtle in for supper. It was a nice supper, too, for it was just
about strawberry time, and strawberries grow thicker in the Big Deep
Woods than fur on a kitten's back. Mr. Crow, who is a great cook, had
made a nice shortcake, and been over to Mr. Man's pantry, where he gets
some of his best things, and borrowed a pail of sweet cream when Mr. Man
wasn't at home.
"Of course they had fried chicken, too, first, and by the time they were
through their shortcake and had lit their pipes Mr. 'Possum, who likes
good things better than anybody, almost, could hardly open his eyes. He
said he wished he was a poet, like Mr. Jack Rabbit, for he had never
been so full of summer happiness since he was born, and if he could
only make rhymes, he knew that poetry would slip right off his tongue.
Then, of course, Mr. Rabbit wanted to show off, and without stopping a
second he commenced to talk poetry--this way:--
"In the summer time I make a rhyme
For every breeze that passes,
For I can always make it chime
With lassies, grasses, sasses."
"Mr. 'Possum said he couldn't do that if it was to save him from being
hung the next minute, and Mr. Rabbit went right on without catching his
breath:--
"Where e'er I go my verses flow--
I keep it up for hours.
I'm never short of rhymes, you know,
With bowers, flowers, showers."
"Well, that set them all to wondering how Jack Rabbit could do it so
easily, and Mr. Rabbit didn't think to tell them how he'd sat up all the
night before to compose this poetry, so's to have it on hand and ready
for a chance to use it. He said that it was somebody else's turn now,
and that maybe Mr. Turtle would give them a performance of some kind.
Mr. Turtle wanted to change the subject, and got up and walked over to
the window. He said that, speaking of showers, it was so warm and close,
he shouldn't wonder if they had one before morning. He said he believed
there was lightning now, off in the west, and seemed like he could hear
it thunder, too. Then they all talked about thunder and lightning and
what they were. But nobody seemed to know except Mr. Turtle himself.
"'Why,' he said, 'I thought everybody knew that!' Then he went on to say
that he'd known the story ever since he wasn't 'any bigger than a pants
button,' and all the others said he must tell it to them, because it was
his turn, anyway. And Mr. Turtle was glad to do that, for he really
wanted to show off a little, like Jack Rabbit, only he hadn't known
before how to do it. So he filled up his pipe nice and fresh, and lit
it, and began.
"'Well,' he said, 'of course you know my family all live to be pretty
old. I'm only three hundred and sixteen next spring myself, but Uncle
Tom Turtle, who lives up by the forks, is a good deal over nine hundred,
and he isn't nearly as old as Father Storm Turtle and his wife, who live
up in the Big West Hills, and make the thunder and lightning.'
"Mr. Turtle stopped a minute to light his pipe again, and all the others
just looked at him and couldn't say a word. They knew he was pretty old,
but they had never thought much about it before, and what he said about
Father and Mother Storm Turtle they had never even heard of. But Mr.
Turtle just lit his pipe, and puffed, and said:--
"'To tell the truth, I never did hear of any of our family dying of old
age, and I shouldn't wonder if Old Man Turtle Himself would still be
alive, too, if he hadn't tried to swallow a mussel fish with the shell
on and got it stuck in his throat a million and twenty-five years ago
last spring. Anyhow, that's according to the date cut on his shell
overcoat that Uncle Tom Turtle saw once at Father Storm's house up in
the Big West Hills.
"'I don't know how many great grandfathers back Father Storm is from me,
nor how many from Father Storm Old Man Turtle Himself was, but I know
Father Storm got his shell overcoat after the mussel fish wouldn't go
down, and that it was a great deal too big to take in the house, and it
used to set out in the yard on four bricks, for the children to play
under.
"'Father Storm Turtle had a big family then, and they were pretty
troublesome. They had a habit of wandering off in the woods and
forgetting to come back. Every night Mother Storm had to stand in the
door and call and call and not be able to sleep if they didn't come,
especially when it was cloudy and looked like rain. She knew that, if
they got wet they'd all come home with bad colds and sore throats and
make trouble and expense. Three of them--named Slop, Splash and
Paddle--were worse than any of the others, for even when it didn't rain
they were always playing in dirty puddles, and would come home all mud
and with wet feet.'"