“‘It is mine! I am rich. I will buy me a ship.’ He walked back and
forth, rubbing his hands together.
“‘Then you have no further need of me?’ said the old man.
“‘Not now—not now,’ replied the other with a grand air. ‘You won’t
accept pay for your services, and I can do no more than thank you.’
“The old man bowed politely, got in his skiff, and sailed away. The
other continued to walk about the island and rub his hands together, and
make his plans. He was now the richest man in the world. He could buy
kings and princes and empires. He had enough gold to buy all the ships
on the sea and to control all the trade on the land. He was great. He
was powerful.
“All these thoughts passed through his mind and he was very happy. The
sun looked at the young man a long time, and then went to bed in the
sea. Two little gray lizards looked at him until the sun went down, and
then they crawled back in their holes. A big black bird sailed round and
round and watched him until nearly dark, and then sailed away.
[Illustration:
HE WAS SO WEAK THAT HE COULDN’T GET UP
]
“When night came the young man found the air damp and chilly, but he
knew he was rich, and so he laughed at the cold. He crept close under
his mountain of gold, and, after a long time, went to sleep. In the
morning he awoke and found that nobody had taken away his precious
mountain of gold during the night. The sun rose to keep him company, the
two gray lizards crept out of their holes and looked at him, and the big
black bird sailed round and round overhead.
“The day passed, and then another and another. The young man was hungry
and thirsty, but he was rich. The night winds chilled him, but he was
rich. The midday sun scorched him, but he was the richest man in the
world. Every night, no matter how hungry or weak he was, he crept upon
the side of the mountain, and stretched himself out, and tried to hug it
to his bosom. He knew that if he was hungry, it wasn’t because he was
poor, and if he died, he knew he would die rich. So there he was.”
“What then?” asked Buster John, as Mr. Thimblefinger paused to look at
his watch.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” continued Mr. Thimblefinger, holding the watch to
his ear. “One fine morning this rich young man was so weak that he
couldn’t get up. He tried to, but his foot slipped, and he rolled to the
foot of the mountain of gold and lay there. He lay there so long and so
quietly that the two gray lizards crept close to him to see what was the
matter. He moved one of his fingers, and they darted back to their
holes.
“The rich young man lay so still that the big black bird, sailing
overhead, came nearer and nearer, and finally alighted at a respectful
distance from the rich young man. The two gray lizards came out again,
and crawled cautiously toward the rich young man. The big black bird
craned his neck and looked, and then went a little closer. A sudden gust
of wind caused the rich young man’s coat to flap. The gray lizards
scrambled towards their holes, and the big black bird jumped up in the
air and flew off a little way.
“But presently they all came back, bird and lizards, and this time they
went still closer to the rich young man. The big black bird went so
close that there is no telling what he would have done next, but just
then the old man came running towards them. He had untied the two ends
of his beard, and was waving them in the air as if they were flags. The
big black bird flew away very angry, and the gray lizards ran over each
other trying to get to their holes.
“The old man, tied up his beard again, took up the rich young man on his
shoulder, and carried him to the boat. Once there he gave the rich young
man some wine. This revived him, and in a little while he was able to
eat. But he had no opportunity to talk. The wind whirled the boat
through the water, and in a few hours it had arrived at the young man’s
town.
“He went home, and soon recovered in more ways than one. He found his
strength again, and lost his appetite for riches. But he worked hard,
saved all he could, and was soon prosperous; but he never remembered
without a shiver the time that he was the richest man in the world.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XVI.
AN OLD-FASHIONED FUSS.
“I don’t blame ’im fer shiverin’,” said Drusilla; “but, I let you know,
here’s what wouldn’t shiver none ef she had dat ar big pile er gol’ what
de man had. I’d ’a’ cotch me some fish; I’d ’a’ gobbled up dem lizards,
yit!”
“Well,” remarked Mr. Rabbit, “I expect money is a pretty big thing. I’ve
heard a heap of talk about it, and I’ve known some big fusses to grow
out of it. And yet money doesn’t cause all the fusses—oh, no! not by a
long jump. I once heard of a fuss that happened long before there was
any money, and the curious part about it was that nobody knew what the
fuss grew out of.”
“What fuss was that?” asked Buster John, who thought that perhaps there
might be a story in it.
“Why, it was the quarrel between the Monkeys and the Dogs. My
great-grandfather knew all about the facts, and I’ve heard him talk it
over many a time when he was sitting in the kitchen corner chewing his
quid. I’ve often heard him wonder, between naps, what caused the
dispute.”
“It seems to me I’ve heard something about it,” remarked Mrs. Meadows in
an encouraging tone.
“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Mr. Rabbit. “It was notorious in our young days. I
reckon it has been settled long before this; anyhow, I hope so.”
“What did your great-grandfather say about it?” inquired Buster John.
“If I were to tell you all he said,” responded Mr. Rabbit, shaking his
head slowly, “you’d have to sit here with me for a fortnight, and of
course you wouldn’t like to do that. So I’ll just up and tell you about
it in my own way. I may not get it exactly right, but I’ll be bound I
won’t get it far wrong, for I have nothing else in the round world to do
but to sit here and think about old times.
“As well as I can remember, the way of it was about this: Away back
yonder, in the times before everybody had got to be so busy trying to
get the best of each other, a coolness sprang up between the Monkeys and
the Dogs. Nobody knew the right of it, because nobody paid any attention
to it along at first. But after awhile it got so that every time a Dog
would meet a Monkey in the road, the Monkey would get up in a tree and
laugh at him, and then the Dog would stop and scratch up the dirt with
all four of his feet and growl.”
“Oh, I’ve seen them do that way,” said Sweetest Susan, laughing.
[Illustration:
THE MONKEYS WOULD MAKE FACES AND SQUEAL AT THE DOGS
]
“Yes,” replied Mr. Rabbit, with a more solemn air than ever. “They have
never got out of the habit of that kind of caper from that day to this.
Well, the coolness grew into a dispute, and the dispute into a quarrel,
and so there it was. The Monkeys would make faces and squeal at the
Dogs, and the Dogs would show their teeth and growl at the Monkeys. It
went from bad to worse, and after awhile, the Dogs would chase the
Monkeys wherever they saw them, and the Monkeys would swing down from
the hanging limbs and give the tails of the Dogs some terrible twists.
“Before that time the Monkeys had been living on the ground just like
everybody else lived, but the Dogs had such sharp teeth and such nimble
feet that the Monkeys had to take to the trees and saplings. At first
they couldn’t get about in the trees as they do now. Sometimes they’d
miss their footing, or lose their grip, and down they’d come right into
the red jaws of the Dogs.
“Now this wasn’t pleasant at all. Even when the Monkeys didn’t fall, the
ants and crawling bugs would get on them, and the dead limbs of the
trees would fall and hurt them, and the wind would blow them about, and
the heavy rains would fall and wet them.
“About that time the Monkeys were the most miserable creatures in the
world. They were so miserable that, finally, the Head Monkey made up his
mind to go and see the Wise Man who used to settle all disputes as far
as he could. So the Head Monkey set out on his journey, and traveled
till he came to the Wise Man’s house.
“He got on the gatepost, and looked all around, to see if there was a
Dog anywhere in sight. Seeing none, he went to the front door and
knocked. The Wise Man came out. He was very old. He had a beard as long
as Brother Billy Goat’s, and as gray, but he was very nice and kind. The
Head Monkey told his story all the way through, and the Wise Man sat and
listened to every word. When he had heard it all, he shut his eyes and
studied the matter over, and then he said:—
“‘Only fools get up fusses that they can’t settle. I’ll give you a
fool’s remedy to settle a fool’s fuss. Go back to your own country and
fetch me a bunch of the hair of a Brindle Dog. Then I’ll show you a
cheap and an easy way to get rid of the whole tribe of Dogs. But be sure
that you make no mistake. I must have the hair of a Brindle Dog—just
that and nothing else. Then I can show you how to get rid of all the
Dogs. But if you make any mistake, you will ruin the whole tribe of
Monkeys.’
“The Head Monkey scratched himself on the side, quick like. Says he,
‘Oh, I’ll make no mistake. Don’t worry about me. The first time the Dogs
have a burying I’ll get on a swinging limb, and when a Brindle Dog comes
along I’ll reach down and pull a bunch of hair out of his hide, and by
the time he gets through howling I’ll be on my journey back.’
“The Wise Man ran his fingers through his beard, and laughed to himself.
Says he, ‘Very well, my young friend, but you had best be careful. A Dog
of any kind will bear watching, but especially a Brindle Dog.’
“The Head Monkey made no answer. He simply grinned, and started back
home. Now, it happened that after his journey was over, the Dogs had no
burying for a long time. They seemed to be in better health than ever.
Some traveling doctor had come along and told them that whenever they
felt out of sorts they must go out in the fields and hunt for a
particular kind of grass. When they found it they were to eat
twenty-seven blades of it, and then go on about their business. You may
not believe this,” said Mr. Rabbit, pausing in the midst of his story,
“but if you will watch the Dogs right close, you will find that to this
day they’ll go out and eat grass whenever they are ailing. They don’t
chew it. They just bite off a great long sprig of it, and wallop it
around their tongues and swallow it whole. I don’t know how they do it,
but I’m telling you the plain facts.
“Well, as I was saying, it was a long time after the Head Monkey got
home before the Dogs had a burying, and when they did have one it
happened that there was no Brindle Dog in the procession. The rest of
the Monkeys were all waiting to see what the Head Monkey was going to
do, and so they forgot to bother the Dogs. When the Dogs saw that the
Monkeys were quiet, they kept quiet themselves, and there was no trouble
between them for a long time. Seeing that the Dogs were no longer
snapping and snarling at them, some of the older Monkeys began to travel
on the ground again, but the younger ones stayed in the trees where they
were born.
“The Head Monkey was mighty restless. Sometimes he’d stay in the trees,
and then again he’d travel on the ground, but wherever he was he always
kept his eye out for a Brindle Dog. Finally, one day, when he was
traveling on the ground, he heard a noise up the road, and when he
turned around he saw a big Brindle Dog coming towards him. He thought to
himself that now was his time or never; so he got behind a bush and
waited for the Brindle Dog to come up.
“He didn’t have long to wait, for the Brindle Dog was going in a
swinging trot. When he came by the bush, the Head Monkey rushed out and
tried to pull a bunch of hair from the Brindle Dog’s hide. But he rushed
too far. The Brindle Dog shied, as old Mr. Horse used to do when he saw
a bunch of shucks in the road. He shied so quick, and he shied so far,
that the Head Monkey fell short with his arm, and was carried too far by
his legs. As the Brindle Dog shied, he turned and saw what it was, and
then he made a rush for the Head Monkey. There was no tree near, and no
way for the Head Monkey to escape. The Brindle Dog grabbed him and made
short work of him. There was considerable of a fight, for the Head
Monkey was strong in his arms and quick on his feet. But the Brindle Dog
had a long jaw and a strong one. He grabbed the Head Monkey between
shoulder and ham, and shook him up as you have seen people shake a
sifter. He just held on and shook, and when he turned loose he’d shut
his teeth down in a new place, so that when the rippit was over, it
seemed as if there wasn’t a whole bone in the Head Monkey’s hide. But
quick done is quick over: and after the Brindle Dog had done all the
shaking that the case called for, he dropped the Head Monkey and went on
about his business; but he had some bites and scratches on his hide, and
as he trotted off he shook his ears, for one of them had been split
mighty nigh in two by the Head Monkey.
“Well, after the Brindle Dog had trotted off, the Head Monkey rose from
the ground and began to feel of himself. He was afraid that he had been
torn in two and scattered all over the road, but when he found that he
had his legs and his arms and his head and his body, he began to be more
cheerful. He found he could walk. And then he found he could use his
hands, and then he strutted around, and said to himself that he had
whipped the fight. He was badly bruised and pretty sore, but he was not
too sore to strut, and so he walked up and down the road and made his
brags that he had compelled the Brindle Dog to take to his heels.
“Then he happened to think what he had come for, and he hunted all about
in the road to see if he could find a bunch of the Brindle Dog’s hair.
There was a good deal of hair scattered around, and in a little while
the Head Monkey had gathered up a handful. He picked it over and sorted
it out, and wrapped it up in a poplar leaf. Then he went home to his
family and rested a day or two, for he was pretty badly bruised. And he
told a big tale of how he had met the great Brindle Dog in the road, and
had fanned him out in a fair fight. His children listened with all their
ears, and then they jumped from limb to limb and told all the neighbors’
children that their pa was the biggest and the best of all the Monkeys.
“This went on for some time, and finally the Head Monkey felt well
enough to visit the Wise Man. So he started on the journey, and after
awhile he got there. He climbed the gatepost again, and looked all
around to see if there was a Brindle Dog in sight. Seeing none, he went
to the door and knocked, and the Wise Man came out.
“‘Good-morning,’ says the Wise Man. ‘I hope you are well.’
“‘Tolerably well, I thank you,’ says the Head Monkey. ‘And I’ve come
agreeable to promise to bring you a bunch of the hair of a Brindle Dog.’
“With that he unrolled the poplar leaf, and showed the Wise Man the hair
he had picked up in the road. The Wise Man took the bunch of hair and
turned it over in his hand, and looked at it. Then he looked at the Head
Monkey.
“‘What is this?’ says he.
“‘A bunch of hair from a Brindle Dog,’ says the Head Monkey.
“The Wise Man shook his head. Says he, ‘It may be, but it doesn’t look
like the samples I have seen. Are you sure about it?’ says he.
“‘As sure as I am standing here,’ says the Head Monkey.
“Says the Wise Man, ‘It’s none of my business. I just wanted to be
certain about it, because if there’s any Monkey hair in it, everything
will go wrong. The whole tribe of Monkeys will be ruined. They will have
to leave this country and the Dogs will stay here. Did you have any
trouble in getting this hair?’ says he.
“‘Well,’ says the Head Monkey, ‘there was a dispute, nothing serious.’
“‘How long did the dispute last?’ says the Wise Man.
“‘No longer than I could reach out and get the hair,’ says the Head
Monkey.
“‘That’s funny,’ says the Wise Man. ‘When the Brindle Dog gets into a
dispute, he usually shows his teeth.’
“‘Oh, he showed his teeth, and he had more than I thought,’ says the
Head Monkey.
“‘But are you sure this hair came out of the hide of a Brindle Dog?’
says the Wise Man.
“Says the Head Monkey, ‘As sure as I’m standing here. I pulled it out
with my own hands.’
“Says the Wise Man, ‘It looks to me as if there were some other kind of
hair in this bunch. Did you have any trouble in getting it?’ says he.
“‘Well,’ says the Head Monkey, ‘we had a little dispute.’
“Says the Wise Man, ‘Was that all?’
“‘Well,’ says the Head Monkey, scratching himself, ‘we passed a few
licks.’
“‘How was that?’ says the Wise Man.
“‘Well,’ says the Head Monkey, ‘he growled and I squealed, and then he
bit and I scratched.’
“‘I see,’ says the Wise Man. ‘What else?’
“‘Well, to tell you the truth,’ says the Head Monkey, ‘there was right
smart of a scuffle.’
“‘Aha!’ says the Wise Man. ‘A scuffle!’
“‘Yes,’ says the Head Monkey, ‘and worse than that. There was a regular
knock-down-and-drag-out fight,’ says he.
“‘I see,’ says the Wise Man. ‘You have brought me some of your own hair
instead of the Brindle Dog’s hair, and now you and your whole tribe will
have to leave this country and cross the ocean; and when you get into
the new country, you will have to live in the trees to keep the
four-footed animals from destroying you.’
“And so it happened,” continued Mr. Rabbit. “Since that time, there have
been no Monkeys in this country. They had to cross the big water, and
when they got over there they had to live in the trees; and I expect
they are living that way yet—at least, they were at last accounts.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XVII.
THE RABBIT AND THE MOON.
“I reckon that’s so about the Monkeys,” remarked Mrs. Meadows. “They
used to be in the country next door, and now they are no longer there.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Rabbit; “it’s just like I tell you: they were there
once, but now they are not there any more. But in the world next door
everybody has his ups and downs, especially his downs. I’ve heard my
great-grandfather tell many a time how our family used to live close to
the Moon. So I don’t make any brags about the way the Monkeys had to
take to the bushes. I remember about my own family, and then I feel like
hanging my head down and saying nothing. It is a very funny feeling,
too. When I think we used to live close to the Moon, and that we now
live on the ground and have to crawl there like snails, I sometimes feel
like crying; and I tell you right now if I was to begin to boo-hoo,
you’d be astonished.”
Buster John and Sweetest Susan looked very serious, but Drusilla showed
a desire to laugh.
“You say you used to live close to the Moon?” asked Buster John, with
more curiosity than usual.
“Why, certainly,” replied Mr. Rabbit. “I don’t say that I did, but I’m
certain that my family did. I’ve heard my great-grandfather tell about
it a hundred times. I’ve heard that it was a better country up there
than it is where you live, even better than it is down here,—a good deal
more fun and fiddling, and not half so much looking around for something
to eat. That is the great trouble. If we didn’t have to scuffle around
and get something to eat, we’d be lots better off.
“It’s mighty funny. If you let well enough alone, you are all right; but
the minute you try to better it, everything goes wrong.”
“Dat wuz de way wid ol’ man Adam,” remarked Drusilla.
“Why, of course,” said Mr. Rabbit, “and it was the way with all the
Rabbits and everybody and everything else.”
“But how did they live up there by the Moon?” asked Sweetest Susan. “How
did they keep from falling off?”
Mr. Rabbit scratched his head a little before replying. “Well,” said he,
after awhile, “they got along just as we do down here,—heads up and feet
down. But one time, as I’ve heard my great-grandfather say, the Moon got
into a sort of fidget, and was mighty restless for quite a while. At
last, one of our family, the oldest of all, made bold to look over the
fence and ask the Moon what the trouble was. He noticed, too, that the
Moon had shrunk considerably, and seemed to be in a very bad way. It
could hardly hold up its head.
“But the Moon managed to look up when it heard the fuss at the fence,
and, in a very shaky voice, told the oldest of all the Rabbits howdy.
[Illustration:
“WHAT IS THE TROUBLE?” SAYS THE OLDEST RABBIT
]
“‘What is the trouble?’ says the oldest Rabbit. Says he, ‘Can I do
anything to help you?’
“‘I’m afraid not,’ says the Moon. ‘You are not nimble enough.’
“‘Maybe I’m nimbler than you think,’ says the oldest Rabbit.
“‘Well,’ says the Moon, ‘I’ll tell you what the trouble is. I want to
get a message to Mr. Man, who lives in the world down yonder. I’ve been
shining on him at night, and I’ve caught a bad cold by being out after
dark. My health is breaking down, and if I don’t put out my lights for a
while and take a rest, I’ll have to go out altogether. Now, it’s like
this: I’ve been shining for Mr. Man so long that if I don’t send him
some word he’ll think something serious has happened. I must take a
rest, but I want to send him a message, telling him that I won’t be gone
long.’
“‘Well,’ says the oldest Rabbit, ‘I don’t mind going, if you’ll show me
the way and tell me what to say.’
“So the Moon pointed out the way, and showed him how to put his fingers
in his ears and hold his breath when he took the long jump. Then it gave
him this message:—
_‘I am growing weak to gather strength:
I go into the shadows to gather light.’_
“The oldest Rabbit said this message over to himself many times, and
then he got ready for the journey. Everything went well until he came to
the long jump. But he braced himself, and shut his eyes, and put his
fingers in his ears, and held his breath. Now, the jump was a long one,
sure enough. It was so long that the oldest Rabbit opened one eye, and
then he got the notion that he was falling instead of jumping, and he
opened both eyes so wide that they have been that way ever since. This
scared him terribly, and by the time he landed on the world he had
forgotten what he came for. He wasn’t hurt a bit, but he was badly
scared.
“He sat on the ground and tried to remember, and then he got up and
walked about. Finally, he looked up and saw the Moon winking one eye at
him. Then he thought about the message, and he ran off to Mr. Man’s
house, and knocked at the door. Mr. Man had gone to bed, but he got up
and opened the door, and asked what was wanted.
“‘Well,’ says the oldest Rabbit, ‘I’ve just come from the Moon with a
message for you.’
“‘What is it?’ says Mr. Man.
“‘The Moon told me to tell you this:—
‘_I’m growing weak and have no strength:
I’m going off where the shadows are dark._’
“Mr. Man scratched his head. He couldn’t make the message out. Then he
said, ‘Take this message back:—
‘_Seldom seen and soon forgot:
When a Moon dies her feet get cold._’
“The oldest Rabbit bowed politely and started back home. He came to the
Jumping-Off Place, and then he took the long jump. He was soon at home,
and went at once to the Moon’s house, and gave the message that Mr. Man
had sent. This made the Moon very mad. It declared that the oldest
Rabbit had carried the wrong message. Then it grabbed the shovel and
struck him in the face. This made the oldest Rabbit very mad, and he
jumped at the Moon and used his claws. The fight was a hard one, and you
can see the marks of it to this day. All the Rabbits have their upper
lips split, and the Moon still has the marks on its face where the
oldest Rabbit clawed it.
“The way of it was this,” continued Mr. Rabbit, seeing that the children
had hardly caught the drift of the story: “the Moon had been shining
constantly for many years, and was growing weak. It wanted to take a
rest, and it was afraid Mr. Man would get scared when he failed to see
it at night. Since that time the Moon has been taking a rest about every
two weeks. At least it used to be that way. I never bother about it
now.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XVIII.
WHY THE BEAR IS A WRESTLER.
“Well,” said Mr. Rabbit, after a pause, “what about the story? Was there
any moral to it?”
“None at all,” replied Mrs. Meadows. “It was just an old-time tale.”
“Now, I’m truly glad to hear you say so,” cried Mr. Rabbit, appearing to
be very much pleased. “It’s as good as taking a nap.” He winked gravely
at Buster John, and then proceeded to refill his pipe.
“I thought it was a pretty good story,” said Buster John. “It turned out
to be a story so quick that it was all over with before I knew it was a
story.”