room with a bellow, her tail curled over her back, and went at the men
with head down and horn points up. Tables and chairs were nothing to the
butting cow. She ran over them and through them; and in a little while
the room was cleared of the merchants, and some of them were hurt so
badly that they could scarcely crawl away.
“The mayor had jumped through a window, and the village people had
scattered in all directions. By this time the tavern-keeper, who had
remained unhurt, was laughing to himself at the fix the merchants found
themselves in, for the butting cow was still pursuing them. But he
laughed too soon. The little girl came to the door with her hitting
stick.
[Illustration:
“HIT STICK! STICK HIT!” SHE CRIED
]
“‘Hit, stick! Stick, hit!’ she cried; and in an instant the stick was
mauling the tavern-keeper over the head and shoulders and all about the
body.
“‘Help! help!’ shouted the tavern-keeper. ‘Somebody run here! Help! I’ll
tell you where they are! I’ll show you where they are!’
“‘Stop, stick!’ said the girl. ‘Now show me where my snow-white goat
is.’
“‘Yes!’ exclaimed the boy. ‘Show me where my coal-black sheep is!’
“‘Come,’ said the tavern-keeper; and he went as fast as he could to the
outhouse where he had hid the animals. They were in there, safe and
sound, and the children made haste to carry them home.
“So the farmer was once more rich and prosperous. He shunned the tavern
and kept at work, and in this way prosperity brought happiness and
content to all the family. And by giving freely to the poor they made
others happy too.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XXIV.
THE FATE OF THE DIDDYPAWN.
“It has always been mighty curious to me,” said Mr. Rabbit, “why
everything and everybody is not contented with what they’ve got. There’d
be lots less trouble in the country next door if everybody was
satisfied.”
“Well,” remarked Mr. Thimblefinger, “some people have nothing at all. I
hope you don’t want a man who has nothing to be satisfied. An empty
pocket makes an empty stomach, and an empty stomach has a way of talking
so it can be heard.”
“That is true,” replied Mr. Rabbit; “but there is a living in the world
for every creature, if he will only get out of bed and walk about and
look for it. But a good many folks and a heap of the animals think that
if there is a living in the world for everybody, it ought to be handed
round in a silver dish. Then there are some folks and a great many
creatures that are not satisfied with what they are, but want to be
somebody or something else. That sort of talk puts me in mind of the
Diddypawn.”
“What is the Diddypawn?” asked Buster John.
“Well, it would be hard to tell you at this time of day,” replied Mr.
Rabbit, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There are no Diddypawns now, and
I don’t know that I ever saw but one. He is the chap I’m going to tell
you about. He was a great big strong creature, with a long head and
short ears, and eyes that could see in the dark. He had legs that could
carry him many a mile in a day, and teeth strong enough to crunch an
elephant’s hind leg. The Diddypawn would have weeded a wide row if he
had been a mind to; but, instead of doing that, he just lay in the mud
on the river bank, and let the sun shine and the rain fall. He had but
to reach down in the water to pick up a fish, or up in the bushes to
catch a bird.
“But all this didn’t make his mind easy. He wasn’t contented. The
thought came to him that a fine large creature such as he was ought to
be able to swim as fast as a fish, and fly as high as a bird. So he
worried and worried and worried about it, until there was no peace in
that neighborhood. All the creatures that crawled, or walked, or swam,
or flew, heard of the Diddypawn’s troubles. At first they paid no
attention to him, but he groaned so long and he groaned so loud that
they couldn’t help but pay attention. They couldn’t sleep at night, and
they couldn’t have any peace in the daytime.
“For I don’t know how long the Diddypawn rolled and tumbled in the mud,
and moaned and groaned because he didn’t have as many fins as the fishes
and as many feathers as the birds. He moaned and mumbled in the daytime,
and groaned and grumbled at night. The other creatures paid no attention
to him at first; but matters went from bad to worse, and they soon found
that they had to do something or leave the country.
“So, after awhile the fishes held a convention, and the porpoise and the
catfish made speeches, saying that the Diddypawn was in a peck of
trouble, and asking what could be done for him. Finally, after a good
deal of talk about one thing and another, the convention of fishes
concluded to call on the Diddypawn in a body, and ask him what in the
name of goodness he wanted.
“This they did; and the reply that the Diddypawn made was that he wanted
to know how to swim as well as any fish. There wasn’t anything
unreasonable in this; and so the convention, after a good deal more
talk, said that the best way to do would be for every fish to lend the
Diddypawn a fin.
“The convention told the Diddypawn about this, and it made him grin from
one ear to the other to think that he would be able to swim as fast as
the fishes. He rolled from the bank into the shallow water, and the
fishes, as good as their word, loaned him each a fin. With these the
Diddypawn found he was able to get about in the water right nimbly. He
swam around and around, far and near, and finally reached an island
where there were some trees.
“‘Don’t go too near the land,’ says the catfish. ‘Don’t go too near the
land,’ says the perch.
“‘Don’t bother about me,’ says the Diddypawn. “I can walk on the land as
well as I can swim in the water.’
“‘But our fins!’ says the catfish and the perch. ‘If you go on land and
let them dry in the sun, they’ll be no good to either us or you.’
“‘No matter,’ says the Diddypawn, ‘on the land I’ll go, and I’ll be
bound the fins will be just as limber after they get dry as they were
when they were wet.’
“But the fishes set up such a cry and made such a fuss that the
Diddypawn concluded to give them back their fins, while he went on dry
land and rested himself. He went on the island, and stretched himself
out in the tall grass at the foot of the big trees, and soon fell
asleep. When he awoke, the sun was nearly down. He crawled to the
waterside, and soon saw that the fishes had all gone away. He had no way
of calling them up or of sending them a message, and so there he was.
[Illustration:
IT MADE HIM GRIN FROM EAR TO EAR
]
“While the Diddypawn was lying there wondering how he was going to get
back home, he heard a roaring and rustling noise in the air. Looking up,
he saw that the sky was nearly black with birds. They came in swarms, in
droves, and in flocks. There were big birds and little birds, and all
sorts and sizes of birds. The trees on the island were their
roosting-place, but they were coming home earlier than usual, because
they wanted to get rid of the moanings and groanings of the Diddypawn.
“The birds came and settled in the trees, and were about to say
good-night to one another, when the Diddypawn rolled over, and began to
moan and groan and growl and grumble. At once the birds ceased their
chattering, and began to listen. Then they knew they would have no sound
sleep that night if something wasn’t done; and so the King-Bird flew
down, lit close to the Diddypawn’s ear, and asked him what in the name
of goodness gracious he was doing there, how he got there, and what the
trouble was anyway.
“All the answer the Diddypawn made was to roll over on his other side,
and moan and mumble. Once more the King-Bird fluttered in the air, and
lit near the Diddypawn’s ear, and asked him what in the name of goodness
gracious he was doing there, how he got there, and what the trouble was
anyway. For answer, the Diddypawn turned on the other side, and groaned
and grumbled.
“How long this was kept up I’ll never tell you, but after a while, the
Diddypawn said the trouble with him was that he wanted to fly. He said
he would fly well enough if he only had feathers; but, as it was, he
didn’t have a feather to his name, or to his hide either.
“Well, the birds held a convention over this situation, and after a good
deal of loud talk, it was decided that each bird should lend the
Diddypawn a feather. This was done in the midst of a good deal of
fluttering and chattering. When the Diddypawn was decked out in his
feathers, he strutted around and shook his wings at a great rate.
“‘Where shall I fly to?’ he asked.
“Now, there was another island not far away, on which everything was
dead,—the trees, the bushes, the grass, and even the honeysuckle vines.
But some of the trees were still standing. With their lack of leaf and
twig they looked like a group of tall, black lighthouses. When the
Diddypawn asked where he should fly, Brother Turkey Buzzard made this
remark:—
“‘If you want to fly fast and not fly far,
Fly to the place where the dead trees are!’
“To this the Diddypawn made reply,—
“‘I want to fly fast and not too far,
So I’ll fly to the place where the dead trees are!’
“Then the Diddypawn fluttered his feathers and hopped about, and, after
a while, took a running start and began to fly. He didn’t fly very well
at first, being a new hand at the business. He wobbled from side to
side, and sometimes it seemed that he was going to fall in the water,
but he always caught himself just in time. After a while he reached the
island where everything was dead, and landed with a tremendous splash
and splutter in the wet marsh grass.
“As dark had not set in, the most of the birds flew along with the
Diddypawn, to see how he was going to come out. The Diddypawn had hardly
lit, before Brother Turkey Buzzard ups and says:—
“‘I don’t want my feather to get wet, and so I’ll just take it back
again.’ This was the sign for all the birds. None wanted his feather to
get wet, so they just swooped down on the Diddypawn and took their
feathers one by one. When the fluttering was over, the Diddypawn had no
more feathers than fins. But he made no complaint. He had it in his mind
that he’d rest easy during the night and begin his complaints the next
morning.
“Says he, ‘I’ve got the birds and the fishes so trained that when I want
to fly, all I’ve got to do is to turn over on my left side and grunt,
and when I want to swim, all I’ve got to do is to turn over on my right
side and groan.’ Then the Diddypawn smiled, until there were wrinkles in
his countenance as deep and as wide as a horse-trough.
“But the birds went back to their roosting-place that night, and there
was nothing to disturb them; and the fishes swam around the next day,
and there was nothing to bother them.
“Matters went on in this way for several days, and at last some of the
birds began to ask about the Diddypawn. ‘Had anybody seen him?’ or ‘Did
anybody know how he was getting on?’
“This was passed around among the birds, until at last it came to the
ears of Brother Turkey Buzzard. He stretched out his wings and gaped,
and said that he had been thinking about taking his family and calling
on the Diddypawn. So that very day, Brother Turkey Buzzard, his wife and
his children and some of his blood kin, went down to the dead island, to
call on the Diddypawn. They went and stayed several days. The rest of
the birds, when they came home to roost, could see the Turkey Buzzard
family sitting in the dead trees; and after so long a time they came
back, and went to roost with the rest of the birds. Some of them asked
how the Diddypawn was getting on, and Brother Turkey Buzzard made this
reply:—
“‘The Diddypawn needs neither feather nor fin,
He’s been falling off, till he’s grown quite thin,
He has lost all his meat and all of his skin,
And he needs now a bag to put his bones in.’
“This made Brother Owl hoot a little, but it wasn’t long before all the
birds were fast asleep.”
Mr. Rabbit never knew how the children liked the story of the Diddypawn.
Buster John was about to say something, but he saw little Mr.
Thimblefinger pull out his watch and look up at the bottom of the
spring.
“What time is it?” asked Mrs. Meadows, seeing that Mr. Thimblefinger
still held his watch in his hand.
“A quarter to twelve.”
“Oh,” cried Sweetest Susan, “we promised mamma to be back by dinner
time.”
“There’s plenty of time for that,” said Mrs. Meadows. “I do hope you’ll
come again. It rests me to see you.”
The children shook hands all around when Mr. Thimblefinger said he was
ready to go, and Mr. Rabbit remarked to Buster John:—
“Don’t forget what I told you about Aaron.”
There was no danger of that, Buster John said; and then the children
followed Mr. Thimblefinger, who led them safely through the spring, and
they were soon at home again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
when a predominant form was found in this book.
○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
End of Project Gutenberg's Mr. Rabbit at Home, by Joel Chandler Harris