wood-box, and got the saw and all the other tools and things they could
find, and brought them out to a shady place, for it was a fine spring
day and getting quite warm, and Mr. 'Possum showed them a round tree,
quite large, that had blown down during the winter, and told them they
might saw it in two, first, and then cut off four nice slices, two large
and two smaller ones, for the four wheels. Mr. 'Possum sat down on the
end of the log and showed them just how to take hold of the saw, one at
each end, and pull first one way and then the other, and walked around
and sighted across it to see that they were keeping it straight, and got
a little cooking-grease and put on it, so it would work faster, and Mr.
'Coon and Mr. Crow worked, and sweat, and tugged, and panted, and said
it was wonderful exercise, and by and by really did get the log sawed in
two.
Mr. 'Possum said they had done very well for the first cut, which was
always the hardest, and that they'd all better rest and smoke a little,
as his mind was quite tired with thinking. But in a few minutes he said
they might try now to make a wheel, and see if they could do that as
well; and Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Crow went at it again, and after a while got
a slice of the tree cut off, quite smooth and about an inch thick, and
Mr. 'Possum said it would make a very good wheel, but that they would be
likely to improve with each slice, and that they must be very careful to
hold the saw just as he told them.
So then they rested and cut off another slice, and rested some more, and
cut off another slice, until they had four slices, and were nearly ready
to drop from being tired and hot, and were saying how fine it was to
have that job done, when Mr. 'Possum said that he had just remembered
they would need one more slice, for his steering-wheel.
Well, Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Crow thought they would surely die before they
got the last slice off, and Mr. 'Possum brought some water and sprinkled
a little on their foreheads, and at last that wheel was done, too, and
they were all quite exhausted and lay in the shade a while to rest and
talk about it. Mr. 'Possum said it might take a little longer than he
thought, to finish the automobile, and that it was better not to hurry
so, as new thoughts were coming to him all the time. He said that next
year they would make another and probably change the style a good deal.
Then when they were rested he showed them some nice straight limbs of
the tree that they could saw off for the axles, and when they got those
sawed off, which was easier to do, of course, he measured them and
showed them how to shave the ends nice and smooth with Mr. Man's
drawing-knife, and how to cut out of a strong piece of board some things
he called brackets for the back axle to turn in, because the back axle
had to turn, and how to bore holes with Mr. Man's auger, in the back
wheels, and drive them on tight, and how to bore holes in the front
wheels and put them on loose with pegs to hold them on, because the
front wheels have to turn, and how to bore a hole in the middle of the
front axle and in the bottom of the big wood-box, for the steering-rod,
because the wood-box was going to be used for the body, and the
steering-rod would turn the front axle and hold it to the body at the
same time.
Mr. 'Possum said that he had noticed that on Mr. Man's car the
steering-rod did not stand straight up, but slanted a good deal, which
seemed to him a mistake; no doubt if Mr. Man could see their car he
would have his changed. Then the 'Coon and the Old Black Crow said, "Of
course," and that there never was anybody so smart to invent things as
Mr. 'Possum, and that it was too bad he couldn't go over and suggest
thoughts to Mr. Man.
The Hollow Tree people didn't get their car done that first day, but
they got it a good deal more than half done, and could hardly wait to
get at it next morning. They hurried out right after breakfast, and Mr.
'Possum had Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Crow sawing, and boring, and shaving with
Mr. Man's drawing-knife, making the crank, which was a sort of double
windlass that stood up in the car over the back axle, built so two
people could turn it; and there would be a strong strap that went down
through a hole in the bottom of the car and around the axle to make that
turn, too, which would drive the car. Then Mr. 'Possum showed them how
to make a seat for the front of the box, so he could sit on it and drive
and steer, because that was the hardest thing to do, while Mr. Crow and
Mr. 'Coon only had to be the motor and work the windlass. Then they got
the strap off of Mr. 'Coon's trunk, because it was a very strong one,
and put it on, and tightened it up, and Mr. 'Possum said as far as he
could see there was nothing more to be done with his car, now, but to
use it. Of course he might think of new things later, to attach to it,
but he didn't see how he could improve it at present, and that they'd
better take it out to the race-track and try it.
[Illustration: SO THEN MR. 'POSSUM GOT UP INTO THE SEAT TO STEER]
So then Mr. 'Possum got up into the seat to steer, and Mr. 'Coon and Mr.
Crow pushed, but it went pretty hard, until they put some grease on the
wheels and transmission; after that it went better, but squeaked so loud
that you could hear it all through the Big Deep Woods, and Mr. Rabbit
came kiting over, and Mr. Robin and Mr. Squirrel came skipping among the
trees, and Mr. Turtle came waddling up from the Wide Blue Water, to see
what new thing was going on over at the Hollow Tree. And when they saw
what the Hollow Tree people had made they could hardly speak for their
surprise. And when they found out how Mr. 'Possum had done all the
hardest part--the planning it and showing how--they said they had never
been so proud in their lives, just to be his friend, and they all helped
push it over to the race-track, and when they got there Mr. 'Possum
invited Mr. Rabbit to sit in the front seat beside him, because Mr.
Rabbit was an author and would want to write something about it; and Mr.
Robin and Mr. Squirrel and Mr. Turtle went down the track a piece to see
them dash by.
Then Mr. Crow and Mr. 'Coon took hold of the windlass, and Mr. 'Possum
told them not to start too suddenly or go too fast at first, as it might
injure the transmission, which was quite delicate. So Mr. 'Coon and Mr.
Crow put a little strength on the windlass, but it didn't turn. Then
they put some more on it, but it didn't turn. Then they put all they had
on it and it turned just a little bit, but very slow. Mr. 'Possum said
he didn't think it would be dangerous to go a little faster, and Mr.
'Coon and Mr. Crow turned with every bit of strength they had, and
worked harder even than they had at sawing up the log, but still Mr.
'Possum said he didn't believe they were going quite as fast as Mr.
Man's car had traveled, and Mr. Turtle called to them that perhaps if he
and the others pushed until they got it to going well, and the machinery
warmed up, it might run better.
Mr. 'Possum didn't much like to have his car pushed, but he said that
Mr. Man's car didn't always start well, either, and very likely had to
be pushed sometimes. So then Mr. Turtle and Mr. Squirrel got one on each
corner, and Mr. Robin went ahead to kick stones out of the road, and Mr.
'Possum said "Ready!" and everybody did his best, and the Deep Woods
automobile squeaked and squealed and started down the race-track pretty
fast, but not always keeping in the middle of it, because Mr. 'Possum
couldn't steer perfectly the first time, and went from one side of the
road to the other, and said it was because they didn't push evenly, and
he was as proud as could be of his great invention. Then Mr. Squirrel
and Mr. Turtle gave it one big push, and let go, and Mr. 'Coon and Mr.
Crow ground away at the windlass their level best, and the car went on
quite a ways before it stopped. It wouldn't have stopped then if Mr.
'Coon and Mr. Crow hadn't given clean out and let go of the crank and
hung over the sides of the car and said it was all so exciting and they
were enjoying it so much that they were quite overcome.
[Illustration: GOING FASTER AND FASTER EVERY MINUTE]
Then Mr. Turtle said _he_ had an idea. He said down not far from his
house which stood by the Wide Blue Water there was a smooth road with a
good deal of a slant in it, and that if the car was over there and got
started down that slant it would very likely almost run itself and move
a good deal faster. So they all said yes, that was just the thing, and
everybody but Mr. 'Possum took hold and pushed, because Mr. 'Possum had
to steer; and by and by they got to the slanting road, which was really
quite a hill, and Mr. Rabbit got in again by Mr. 'Possum, and Mr. 'Coon
and Mr. Crow took hold of the windlass, and sure enough, that time, the
car started well enough, and went without any trouble at all. Mr. Turtle
and the others had run a good ways down the road to see them pass, and
pretty soon they did pass, going faster and faster every minute, and
everybody cheered and waved, and Mr. 'Possum called back to Mr. 'Coon
and Mr. Crow that they could turn a little slower, so all could enjoy
the scenery.
But Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Crow _couldn't_ turn any slower, and when they
tried to hold back on the crank it just jerked them right around, and
when they let go entirely they went even faster, for that slanting road
had turned into a real hill, and they were going down it as speedy as
Mr. Man would go down, and perhaps speedier, and Mr. 'Possum wasn't
looking at the scenery any more, but was holding as fast as he could to
the steering-wheel; trying to keep in the road, and not doing it the
best in the world, though nobody was pushing now.
Then all at once Mr. 'Possum saw something that scared him--scared him
so he nearly fainted away, for just then they rounded a turn, going
lickety-split, and right in front of him Mr. 'Possum saw the Wide Blue
Water. They were headed straight for it, and Mr. 'Possum's thoughts
became confused. He could only realize two things clearly--one was that
he had forgotten all about putting brakes on his car, to stop with, and
the other was that he _must_ stop without delay, or they would all
disappear in the Wide Blue Water, and that he couldn't swim.
Mr. 'Possum wondered very rapidly what would stop them, and just then he
saw a little tree ahead, right at the side of the road, and he thought
_that_ would probably do it. He couldn't think of anything _but_ that,
and he steered for the tree as straight as he could, which wasn't so
very straight, for he hit on the bias.
Still, that was enough to stop the car, but not the people in it. Mr.
'Possum himself flew into a thick blackberry-patch and lost
consciousness; Mr. Rabbit sailed clear over the blackberry-patch, and
landed in a boggy place, which was soft enough, but quite splashy; Mr.
'Coon went straight up into the little tree they had hit, and grabbed
some limbs and hung on, while Mr. Crow just opened his wings, though he
hadn't used them for ever so long, and went sailing over to a nice
grassy place by the road, and wasn't injured at all.
[Illustration: MR TURTLE TOOK MR. 'POSSUM ON HIS BACK, AND EVERYBODY
SAID IT WAS FINE]
There wasn't really anything fatally damaged except the automobile. When
Mr. 'Possum came to, and Mr. Rabbit cleaned some of the bog off of
himself, and Mr. Crow came back, and Mr. 'Coon climbed down, and the
others caught up with them, they all looked around to see what they
could find of Mr. 'Possum's invention. Some of it was in the bushes and
some in the tree, and two of the wheels they couldn't find at all. Mr.
'Coon said his trunk-strap was as good as ever, which was more than Mr.
Crow could say for his wood-box. Mr. 'Possum, who limped and seemed
suffering, said, when he looked at what they had gathered, that he felt
just about as his car looked--a good deal broken up and hardly worth
carrying home. Then he said that very likely Mr. Man had had the same
experience with his first car, and that next year's model would be
different in several ways.
Then Mr. Turtle took Mr. 'Possum on his back, and everybody said it was
very fine for the first time, and certainly most exciting, and the
Hollow Tree people invited all the others to the Hollow Tree to
celebrate Mr. 'Possum's great invention. They stayed quite late, and
when Mr. Rabbit started home he said he would certainly write a poem on
all the events.
HOW MR. 'POSSUM'S TAIL BECAME BARE
MR. 'POSSUM RELATES SOME VERY CURIOUS FAMILY HISTORY
ONCE upon a time, when it was a very pleasant afternoon, and the Hollow
Tree people were sitting along the edge of the world, hanging their feet
over and thinking, Mr. 'Possum went to sleep, and would have nodded
himself off into the Deep Nowhere if his strong, smooth tail hadn't been
quite firmly hooked around a little bush just behind him. All the others
noticed it, and said how lucky it was that a person of Mr. 'Possum's
habits had a nice, useful tail like that, which allowed him to sleep in
a position that for some was thought dangerous even to be awake in.
Then they wondered how it happened that Mr. 'Possum's family had been
gifted in that peculiar way, and by and by, when he woke up, and
stretched, and moved back in the shade, and leaned against a stump to
smoke, they asked him.
Mr. 'Possum said it was a very old story, because it had happened about
a hundred and fifty-six great-grandfathers back. He had heard it when he
was quite small, he said, and would have to think some, to get it
straight. So then he shut his eyes and smoked very slowly, and about the
time the Deep Woods people thought he was going to sleep again he began
telling.
"My family is a very ancient one," he said--"one of the oldest in the
Big Deep Woods, and there used to be only a few, even of us. That was
when Mr. Painter, or Panther, as we say now, was King of the Deep Woods,
and he was very fond of our family, which helped to make them scarce,
and was one reason why they got to slipping out at night for food, when
Mr. Painter was asleep.
"We were a pretty poor lot in those days, and whenever Mr. Painter took
after one of my ancestors that ancestor would make for a tree and run
out on a limb that was too small to bear up Mr. Painter, and just cling
there, because Mr. Painter would climb up, too, and shake the limb, and
very often he would shake an ancestor down, like a papaw, and the only
thing to do then was to make for another tree, or if the next tree was
too far, to play dead, because Mr. Painter did not much like anything he
hadn't killed himself. That is how we got the playing-dead habit, which
others sometimes try and call it 'playing 'possum,' because nobody can
do it so well as our family, and I judge some of our family didn't do it
perfectly the one and only chance they got to try it, or else Mr.
Painter was smarter, or hungrier, at those times.
"Well, my ancestors got so that they could hold to those limbs very
firmly with their hands and feet, and Mr. Painter had a hard time to
shake them down, though he didn't like to give up, and would go on
shaking all day, sometimes, until my folks would get tired out. They
used to try to hold and brace themselves with their tails, too, but we
had just big, ornamental tails in those days, covered with thick, bushy
hair, and of very little use, like Mr. Squirrel's and Mr. 'Coon's."
When Mr. 'Possum made that remark, Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Squirrel sat up
quite straight, and were just about to say something, but Mr. Rabbit
motioned to them and said "'Sh!" and Mr. 'Possum went right on, without
noticing that anything had happened.
"Those tails were no manner of account, but just in the way, and some of
my folks thought it would be almost better if they didn't have them at
all, but just a funny bunch of cotton, or something, like Mr. Rabbit's."
When Mr. 'Possum said that, Mr. Rabbit sat up quite straight, and was
just about to say something, but Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Squirrel motioned to
him and said "'Sh!" and Mr. 'Possum didn't notice anything had happened.
"You see," he went right on, "every little while it happened that one of
my ancestors would start up the tree not quite soon enough, and Mr.
Painter would just manage to get his claws in that bushy ornament, which
would settle it for that ancestor, right away. Of course, my family were
proud of those big, plumy things, people being generally proud of their
most useless property, something they would be better off, and live
longer, without. My folks thought those great tails were handsome,
especially our young people, who would walk about waving them and
practise carrying them in new positions, and about once a week would do
up the long, thick fur on them in little knots, tied with tough, twisted
grass, which would make the hair curl and look very showy indeed. Even
some of my ancestors who happened to get old acted in that foolish way,
and when the fur got thin would wear some kind of false stuff, though
any one but a blind person could always tell it.
[Illustration: "ONE DAY A NEW AND VERY HANDSOME MR. 'POSSUM CAME INTO
THE NEIGHBORHOOD"]
"Well, one day a new and very handsome Mr. 'Possum came into the
neighborhood, from some place nobody had ever heard of before, and none
of our folks had ever seen anything like him. He was stouter than our
breed and lighter colored, and had a very long, bushy tail that curved
in a peculiar way and stayed beautifully curled, without ever being put
up in grass at all. He said so, and my ancestors watched him, to prove
it.
"That young man called himself Somers, and he certainly became popular
with the young Miss 'Possums of our section. They went crazy over him,
and of course that made all the young Mr. 'Possums jealous of him,
though they would have given anything to be like him. They knew they
couldn't be that, so they hoped something would happen to him, and used
to tell him of nice new and interesting walks to take when they
thought Mr. Painter might be in that neighborhood. Then they would
follow, and hide around in the bushes and watch, expecting some time to
see Mr. Painter get his claws into that curly blond duster before Somers
could reach a limb, or shake him down afterward.
"Well, just as they expected, one day when Somers went out for a little
promenade alone Mr. Painter happened along, but Somers saw him first,
and made for a tree, with Mr. Painter after him, reaching for that fine
plume and just missing it, as the handsome stranger went up the tree and
out on a limb, with Mr. Painter right behind and making very savage
noises. Then he began shaking the limb as hard as he could, and my
ancestors, who were watching from quite a safe place, thought Somers
would drop pretty soon, for they didn't think he could be trained to
holding on--such a fine person as he was.
"So they watched, very hopeful, and sure enough, about the third hard
shake Somers dropped--just let go with his hands and feet, and rolled
off, almost as if he really didn't care. My ancestors said that was what
it looked like, and that was what it was. Somers didn't care at all, for
when he let go and dropped, he didn't fall, but just swung off into
space, and stayed attached to that limb, hanging head down, by his tail!
[Illustration: "CALLING OUT, 'MUCH OBLIGED, MR. PAINTER'"]
"My ancestors had never been so astonished in their lives, nor Mr.
Painter, either. He couldn't believe it. He thought at first Somers had
got caught, somehow, and gave one more shake, but when Somers swung back
and forth, laughing and calling out, 'Much obliged, Mr. Painter--much
obliged for the nice swing!' Mr. Painter climbed down and took out for
home as hard as he could, without looking behind him, for he thought it
was some kind of magic. And pretty soon Somers climbed down, too, and
brushed himself off a little, and fixed his tail in a nice position, and
walked along, smiling; and my ancestors hurried to him and said they
had just arrived in time to witness his great performance, and begged
him to show them how he did it, and offered him anything if he would
only teach them to handle those useless ornaments of theirs in that
grand way.
"So then Somers told them all about it. He said he was the inventor of
the idea, and of the medicine that made it work. He said he was very
soon going back to his own people, but before he went he would make up
some medicine, which would make their hair and tails both curl, and
would explain how to take it.
"Well, they were so anxious about it that he began next morning, and
sent out different ones for different things--special kinds of roots,
and several sorts of very twisty things, such as grape-vine clingers,
and honeysuckle, and a great lot of love-vine--that yellow stuff that
winds about everything and can choke even a ragweed to death. Then he
put it all into a big kettle, and had them pour water on it and put a
fire under it, and he boiled it for two days and nights, without
letting the fire get down, and after that poured it off into a big gourd
to settle, and told them just what size swallow to take of it, and how
to practise the new habit when they felt the curling begin. Then he said
he must be going, as his family would be worried about him being away so
long, and my folks all gathered to see him off, and gave him as many
presents as he could carry, and he went away somewhere to the southeast,
and they never saw him again.
"Of course, as soon as he was gone, and the medicine was settled nice
and clear, our whole family collected to take it. There wasn't a 'possum
in the Deep Woods that wasn't there, and they had to get in line,
because every one wanted to be first and be sure to get some of that
magic juice.
[Illustration: "MR. WATERS HAD TO TAKE WHAT WAS LEFT"]
"Well, perhaps they were too anxious, and took bigger swallows than
Somers told them to, or it may be the stuff was a little too strong, or
Somers got in too much of the love-vine, which has such an awful
twist; or it may be he wanted to play a joke on some of our family for
being jealous and wanting to get him caught by Mr. Painter--whatever it
was, that medicine had an awful power and did even more than he said it
would. When every one had taken a good swallow, except the last one in
line--he being a middle-aged person named Waters, who had to take what
was left, which was only about a spoonful and very disappointing to Mr.
Waters--they all felt the curling sensation begin, and commenced the new
muscle-practice Somers had mentioned; and just then Mr. Painter, who had
probably heard that Somers had gone, came tearing through the timber,
and my folks quit practising and broke for trees and limbs, with Mr.
Painter after one plump young chap which he didn't quite get, and pretty
soon was shaking a limb in the usual way, only harder, being hungrier
than common. The plump young person was scared half to death, never
having had much practice holding on, anyway, and in about a minute he
was obliged to let go with his hands and feet, and just give up
everything, shut his eyes, and drop, expecting next minute he would hit
the ground and it would be all over.
"But right there that plump young fellow got the best surprise of his
life. He had been so scared that he had forgotten all about Mr. Somers's
medicine, but the medicine hadn't forgotten about him. During the little
minute he had been sitting on that limb his tail had curled itself
around it as tight as if it had grown there. Mr. Painter couldn't have
shaken him loose in a week. He hung down just like Somers, only not so
far, and he didn't swing much, because that strong medicine had taken up
all his slack and there was very little room for play. He didn't care
for that, of course, not then. He got brave and very cheerful right off,
and called out to Mr. Painter, just like Somers:
"'Much obliged, Mr. Painter--much obliged for the nice swing. Swing me
again, Mr. Painter.'
"And when the rest of our folks saw that the same thing had happened to
all of them they all let go and dropped, and began calling from the
different trees: 'Come and swing us, too, Mr. Painter--stay all day and
swing the rest of us!'
"And when Mr. Painter heard that, and looked around and saw all my
ancestors hanging head down and making fun of him, he thought the whole
Deep Woods was full of the strange magic, and he piled down out of that
tree and took out for the bushes, and was never seen in the Big Deep
Woods again.
[Illustration: "TOOK HIM ALL THE AFTERNOON TO PRY THE REST OF MY
ANCESTORS LOOSE"]