[Illustration: HAD TO SCRATCH HIS HEAD AND THINK PRETTY HARD.]
Once upon a time, when it was getting along toward fall in the Hollow
Tree where Jack Rabbit and Mr. Robin and the others had come to live
with the 'Coon and 'Possum and the old black Crow, there began to be
long evenings, and the Hollow Tree people used to think of new ways to
pass the time. They tried games at first, and sleight of hand tricks.
Then they tried doing things, and Mr. Turtle carried them all together
twice around the big parlor room on his back. But even that wasn't so
funny after the first evening, and Mr. Crow, who did most of the
thinking, had to scratch his head and think pretty hard what to do next.
All at once he happened to remember that Jack Rabbit, who was the big
man of the party, was also a first rate poet, and liked to read his own
poetry better than anything. So, when he thought of that, he said:
"I'll tell you. We'll have a poetry club."
And of course that made Mr. Rabbit wake up right away.
"What's that?" he said. "What kind of a thing is a poetry club?"
"Why," said Mr. Crow, "it's a place where the members each write a poem
and read it at the next meeting. You're the only real, sure enough poet,
of course, and will be president, and write the best poem, but the rest
of us can try, and you can tell us our mistakes. I've heard that Mr. Man
has them, and they're ever so much fun."
Jack Rabbit thought so, too, and all the others liked the plan. So they
elected Mr. Rabbit president and then went to work on their poems. They
couldn't have the first meeting very soon, for it took longer to write
poems in those days than it does now, so before they got half ready the
news got out some way, and even Mr. Dog had heard of it.
[Illustration: POOR MR. DOG.]
Poor Mr. Dog! It made him really quite ill to think he wasn't on very
good terms with the Hollow Tree people, for he thought he could write
pretty nice poetry, too, and he wanted to belong to that club worse than
anything he could think of. He wanted to so bad that at last he told Mr.
Robin that if they'd just let him come he'd promise anything they asked.
They didn't want to let him, though, until Mr. Crow, who always felt
kind of sorry for Mr. Dog, said he didn't see why Mr. Dog shouldn't come
and look in through the window shutters, and that they could nail a seat
for him on a limb just outside. They could pull him up to it with a rope
and he could sit there and listen and applaud the poems all through
without being able to do any damage to the poets, and he would be glad
enough to be let down by the time they got done reciting.
So they sent him an invitation, and Mr. Dog was as happy as a king. He
went right to work on his poem, and he worked all night and walked up
and down the yard all day trying to think up rhymes for "joyful" and
"meeting," and a lot of other nice words. Even when he was asleep he
dreamed about it, and said over some of the lines out loud and jerked
his paws about as if he were reciting it and making motions. You see,
Mr. Dog hadn't always done just right by the Hollow Tree people, and he
was anxious to make a good impression and fix up things. He fixed
himself all up, too, when the night came for the meeting, and took his
poem under his arm and lit a cigar that he'd borrowed of Mr. Man for the
occasion, and away he went.
The Hollow Tree people were on the lookout for him and had the rope down
and ready. So Mr. Dog tied it around under his arms, and they pulled and
pulled, and up he came. Then, when he got pretty close to the window,
they closed the shutter and put the rope through and pulled him up still
a little higher, so that he could reach the seat on the limb, which was
fixed just right for him to sit there and lean on the window sill while
he listened and looked in.
Of course, Mr. Dog wished he was inside, like the others, but he knew
why he wasn't, and he was glad enough to be there at all. He peeked
through the slats at the big room and smiled and said some nice things
about how pretty the room looked, till they all got real sociable with
him. Then Jack Rabbit called the meeting to order and made a few
remarks.
[Illustration: MR. RABBIT BOWED.]
He said the duties of his office had kept him from writing quite as long
and as good a poem as he would have liked to write, but that he hoped
they might be willing to hear what he had done. Then they all shouted,
"Yes, yes!" and "Hear, hear!" and Mr. Rabbit bowed first to the ones
inside and then to Mr. Dog outside, and began: