again will you be led to doubt that Old Mother Nature knows exactly
what she is about. In the first place, Sammy Jay is not wholly to
blame for all his bad habits. Some of them were handed down to him
with his fine coat, just the same as your troublesome curiosity was
handed down to you with the white patch on the seat of your trousers."
Peter nodded. He had felt a great many times that he just couldn't
help this habit of poking that wobbly little nose of his in where it
had no business to be, any more than he could change that funny little
bunch of white cotton, which he called a tail, for a really, truly
tail.
"Of course, you have heard all about what a very fine gentleman Sammy
Jay's great-great-ever-so-great grandfather was thought to be until it
was discovered that he was all the time stealing from his neighbors
and putting the blame on others, and how Old Mother Nature punished
him by taking away the beautiful voice of which he was so proud, and
giving him instead the harsh voice which Sammy has now, and making him
tell just what he is by screaming 'thief, thief, thief!' every time he
opens his mouth to speak.
"At first Old Mother Nature had intended to take away the fine coat of
which Mr. Jay was so proud, but when he discovered that he had lost
his fine voice, he was so ashamed that he hurried away to hide himself
from the eyes of his neighbors, so that Old Mother Nature didn't have
time to change his coat just then.
'I'll wait a bit,' said she to herself, 'and see how he behaves.
Perhaps he is truly sorry for what he has done, and I will not have to
punish him more.'
"But if Mr. Jay was truly sorry, he gave no signs of it. You see, he
had cheated his neighbors, and had stolen from them for so long, that
he found this the easiest way to get a living. His bad habits had
become fixed, as bad habits have a way of doing. Besides, right down
in his heart, he wasn't sorry for what he had done, only angry at
having been found out. Now that he had been found out, of course every
one was on the watch for him, and it wasn't so easy to steal as it had
been before. So now, instead of going about openly, with his head held
high, he grew very crafty, and sneaked quietly about through the Green
Forest, trying to keep out of sight, that he might the easier steal
from his neighbors and make trouble for them.
"When Old Mother Nature saw this, she changed her mind about taking
away his handsome suit. 'If I do that,' thought she, 'it will make it
all the easier for him to keep out of sight, and all the harder for
his neighbors to know when he is about.'
"So instead of giving him the plain, homely suit that she had thought
of giving him, she made his coat of blue brighter than before and
trimmed it with the whitest of white trimmings, so that Mr. Jay had
one of the very handsomest coats in all the Green Forest. At first he
was very proud of it, but it wasn't long before he found that it was
very hard work to keep out of sight when he wanted to. That bright
blue coat was forever giving him away when he was out on mischief.
Everybody was all the time on the watch for it, and so where in the
past Mr. Jay had been able, without any trouble, to steal all he
wanted to eat, now he sometimes actually had to work for his food, and
get it honestly or else go hungry.
"You would suppose that he would have mended him ways, wouldn't you?"
Peter nodded.
"But he didn't. He grew more sly and crafty than ever. But in spite of
this, he didn't begin to make as much trouble as before. He couldn't,
you know, because of his bright coat. When Old Mother Nature found
that Mr. Jay had passed along his bad habits to his children, she
passed along his handsome blue coat, too, and so it has been from that
long-ago day right down to this. Sammy Jay's fine coat isn't a reward
for goodness, as is Winsome Bluebird's, but is to help the other
little people of the Green Forest and the Green Meadows to protect
themselves, and keep track of Sammy when he is sneaking and snooping
around looking for mischief. Now what do you think, Peter Rabbit?"
Peter scratched one long ear and then the other long ear thoughtfully,
and he looked a wee bit ashamed as he replied: "I guess Old Mother
Nature makes no mistakes and always knows just what she is doing."
"Chug-a-rum!" said Grandfather Frog in his deepest voice. "You may be
sure she does. And another thing, Peter Rabbit: Never judge any one by
his clothes. It is a great mistake, a very great mistake. Plain
clothes sometimes cover the kindest hearts, and fine clothes often are
a warning to beware of mischief."
"I--I don't know but you are right," admitted Peter.
"I know I am," said Grandfather Frog.
VII
WHY JERRY MUSKRAT BUILDS HIS HOUSE IN THE WATER
Peter Rabbit and Johnny Chuck had gone down to the Smiling Pool for a
call on their old friend, Jerry Muskrat. But Jerry was nowhere to be
seen. They waited and waited, but no Jerry Muskrat.
"Probably he is taking a nap in that big house of his," said Johnny
Chuck, "and if he is we'll have to sit here until he wakes up, or else
go back home and visit him some other time."
"That's so," replied Peter. "I don't see what he has his house in the
water for, anyway. If he had built it on land, like sensible people,
we might be able to waken him. Funny place to build a house, isn't
it?"
Johnny Chuck scratched his head thoughtfully. "It does seem a funny
place," he admitted. "It certainly does seem a funny place. But then,
Jerry Muskrat is a funny fellow. You know how much of the time he
stays in the water. That seems funny to me. I suppose there is a
reason for it, and probably there is a reason for building his house
where it is. I've found that there is a reason for most things.
Probably Jerry's great-great-grandfather built his house that way, and
so Jerry does the same thing."
Peter Rabbit suddenly brightened up. "I do believe you are right,
Johnny Chuck, and if you are, there must be a story about it, and if
there is a story, Grandfather Frog will be sure to know it. There he
is, over on his big green lily-pad, and he looks as if he might be
feeling very good-natured this morning. Let's go ask him why Jerry
Muskrat builds his house in the water."
Grandfather Frog saw them coming, and he guessed right away that they
were coming for a story. He grinned to himself and pretended to go to
sleep.
"Good morning, Grandfather Frog," said Johnny Chuck. Grandfather Frog
didn't answer. Johnny tried again, and still no reply.
"He's asleep," said Johnny, looking dreadfully disappointed, "and I
guess we'd better not disturb him, for he might wake up cross, and of
course we wouldn't get a story if he did."
Peter looked at Grandfather Frog sharply. He wasn't so sure that that
was a real nap. It seemed to him that there was just the least little
hint of a smile in the corners of Grandfather Frog's big mouth. "You
sit here a minute," he whispered in Johnny Chuck's ear.
So Johnny Chuck sat down where he was, which was right where
Grandfather Frog could see him by lifting one eyelid just the teeniest
bit, and Peter hopped along the bank until he was right behind
Grandfather Frog. Now just at that place on the bank was growing a
toadstool. Peter looked over at Johnny Chuck and winked. Then he
turned around, and with one of his long hind-feet, he kicked the
toadstool with all his might. Now toadstools, as you all know, are not
very well fastened at the roots, and this one was no different from
the rest. When Peter kicked it it flew out into the air and landed
with a great splash in the Smiling Pool, close beside the big green
lily-pad on which Grandfather Frog was sitting. Of course he didn't
see it coming, and of course it gave him a great start.
"Chug-a-rum!" exclaimed Grandfather Frog and dived head first into the
water. A minute later Peter's sharp eyes saw him peeping out from
under a lily-pad to see what had frightened him so.
"Ha, ha, ha!" shouted Peter, dancing about on the bank. "Ha, ha, ha!
Grandfather Frog, afraid of a toadstool! Ha, ha, ha!"
At first Grandfather Frog was angry, very angry indeed. But he is too
old and too wise to lose his temper for long over a joke, especially
when he has been fairly caught trying to play a joke himself. So
presently he climbed back on to his big green lily-pad, blinking his
great, goggly eyes and looking just a wee bit foolish.
"Chug-a-rum! I might have known that that was some of your work,
Peter Rabbit," said he, "but I thought it surely was a stone thrown
by Farmer Brown's boy. What do you mean by frightening an old fellow
like me this way?"
"Just trying to get even with you for trying to fool us into thinking
that you were asleep when you were wide awake," replied Peter. "Oh,
Grandfather Frog, do tell us why it is that Jerry Muskrat builds his
house in the water. Please do!"
"I have a mind not to, just to get even with you," said Grandfather
Frog, settling himself comfortably, "but I believe I will, to show you
that there are some folks who can take a joke without losing their
temper."
"Goody!" cried Peter and Johnny Chuck together, sitting down side by
side on the very edge of the bank.
Grandfather Frog folded his hands across his white and yellow
waistcoat and half closed his eyes, as if looking way, way back into
the past.
"Chug-a-rum!" he began. "A long, long time ago, when the world was
young, there was very little dry land, and most of the animals lived
in the water. Yes, Sir, most of the animals lived in the water, as
sensible animals do to-day."
Peter nudged Johnny Chuck. "He means himself and his family," he
whispered with a chuckle.
"After a time," continued Grandfather Frog, "there began to be more
land and still more. Then some of the animals began to spend most of
their time on the land. As there got to be more and more land, more
and more of the animals left the water, until finally most of them
were spending nearly all of the time on land. Now Old Mother Nature
had been keeping a sharp watch, as she always does, and when she found
that they were foolish enough to like the land best, she did all that
she could to make things comfortable for them. She taught them how to
run and jump and climb and dig, according to which things they liked
best to do, so that it wasn't very long before a lot of them forgot
that they ever had lived in the water, and they began to look down on
those who still lived in the water, and to put on airs and hold their
heads very high.
"Now, of course, Old Mother Nature didn't like this, and to punish
them she said that they should no longer be able to live in the water,
even if they wanted to. At first they only laughed, but after a while
they found that quite often there were times when it would be very
nice to be at home in the water as they once had been. But it was of
no use. Some could swim as long as they could keep their heads above
water, but as soon as they put their heads under water they were
likely to drown. You know that is the way with you to-day, Peter
Rabbit."
Peter nodded. He knew that he could swim if he had to, but only for a
very little way, and he hated the thought of it.
"Now there were a few animals, of whom old Mr. Muskrat, the
grandfather a thousand times removed of Jerry Muskrat, was one, who
learned to walk and run on dry land, but who still loved the water,"
continued Grandfather Frog. "One day Old Mother Nature found Mr.
Muskrat sitting on a rock, looking very mournful.
"'What's the matter, Mr. Muskrat?' she asked.
"Mr. Muskrat looked very much ashamed as he finally owned up that he
was envious of his cousins and some of the other animals, because they
had such fine houses on the land.
"'Then why don't you build you a fine house on the land?' asked Old
Mother Nature.
"Mr. Muskrat hesitated. 'I--I--love the water too well to want to stay
on land all the time,' said he, 'and--and--well, I was put in the
water in the first place, and I ought to be contented with what I have
got and make the best of it.'
"Old Mother Nature was so pleased with Mr. Muskrat's reply that right
away she made up her mind that he should have a finer house than any
of the others, so she took him over to a quiet little pool, where the
water was not too deep and she showed him how to build a wonderful
house of mud and rushes and twigs, with a nice warm bedroom lined
with grass above the water, and an entrance down under the water, so
that no one except those who still lived most of the time in the water
could possibly get into it. None of his friends on land had such a
big, fine house, and Mr. Muskrat was very proud of it. But with all
his pride he never forgot that it was a reward for trying to be
content with his surroundings and making the best of them.
"So from that day to this, the Muskrats have built their houses in the
water, and have been among the most industrious, contented, and happy
of all the animals. And that is why Jerry Muskrat has built that fine
house in the Smiling Pool and has so few enemies," concluded
Grandfather Frog.
Peter Rabbit drew a long breath, which was almost a sigh. "I almost
wish my grandfather a thousand times removed had been content to stay
in the water, too," he said.
"Chug-a-rum!" retorted Grandfather Frog. "If he had, you wouldn't have
the dear Old Briar-patch. Be content with what you've got,"
"I think I will," said Peter.
VIII
WHY OLD MAN COYOTE HAS MANY VOICES
Of course Old Man Coyote has only one voice, but that one is such a
wonderful voice that he can make it sound like a great many voices,
all yelping and howling and shouting and laughing at the same time. So
those who hear him always say that he has many voices, and that
certainly is the way it seems. The first time Peter Rabbit heard Old
Man Coyote, he was sure, absolutely sure, that there was a whole crowd
of strangers on the Green Meadows, and you may be sure that he kept
very close to his dear Old Briar-patch. If you had been there and
tried to tell Peter that all that noise was made by just one voice,
he wouldn't have believed you. No, Sir, he wouldn't have believed you.
And you couldn't have blamed him.
It was the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind who first told
Peter who the stranger was and warned him to watch out, because Old
Man Coyote is just as fond of Rabbit as Granny or Reddy Fox, and is
even more crafty and sly than they. Peter thanked the Merry Little
Breezes for the warning, and then he asked them how many of his family
Old Man Coyote had brought with him. Of course the Merry Little
Breezes told Peter that Old Man Coyote was all alone, and they became
very indignant when Peter laughed at them. He just couldn't help it.
"Why," said he, "every night I hear a whole crowd yelping and howling
together."
"But you don't!" insisted the Merry Little Breezes. "It is Old Man
Coyote alone who makes all that noise."
"Don't you suppose I know what I hear?" demanded Peter.
"No!" retorted the Merry Little Breezes. "You may have big ears and be
able to hear a great deal, sometimes a great deal more than you have
any business to hear, but you are old enough by this time to have
learned that you cannot believe all you hear." And with that the Merry
Little Breezes indignantly raced away to spread the news all over the
Green Meadows.
Now Peter was quite as indignant because they thought he couldn't or
shouldn't believe his own ears, as they were because he wouldn't
believe what they told him, and all the rest of that day he couldn't
put the matter out of his mind. He was still thinking of it as the
Black Shadows came creeping down from the Purple Hills across the
Green Meadows. Suddenly Peter saw a dark form skulking among the Black
Shadows. At first he thought it was Reddy Fox, only somehow it looked
bigger. Peter, safe in the dear Old Briar-patch, watched. Presently
the dark form came out from among the Black Shadows where Peter could
see it clearly, sat down, pointed a sharp nose up at the first
twinkling little stars, opened a big mouth, and out of it poured such
a yelping and howling as made Peter shiver with fright. And now Peter
had to believe his eyes rather than his ears. His ears told him that
there were many voices, but his eyes told him that all that dreadful
sound was coming out of one mouth. It was hard, very hard, to believe,
but it was so.
"The Merry Little Breezes were right," muttered Peter to himself, as
Old Man Coyote trotted away in the direction of the Green Forest, and
he felt a wee bit ashamed to think that he had refused to believe
them.
After that, Peter could think of nothing but Old Man Coyote's
wonderful voice that sounded like many voices, and at the very first
opportunity he hurried over to the Smiling Pool to ask Grandfather
Frog what it meant.
"Chug-a-rum!" said Grandfather Frog. "It means simply that Old Man
Coyote comes of a very smart family, and that he knows how to make the
most of the gift of Old Mother Nature to his grandfather a thousand
times removed."
This sounded so much like a story that Peter straightway teased
Grandfather Frog to tell him all about it. At last, to get rid of him
and enjoy a little quiet and peace, Grandfather Frog did so.
"Chug-a-rum!" he began, as he always does. "The
great-great-ever-so-great grandfather of Old Man Coyote, who lived
long, long ago when the world was young, was very much as Old Man
Coyote is to-day. He was just as smart and just as clever. Indeed, he
was smart enough and clever enough not to let his neighbors know that
he was smart and clever at all. Those were very peaceful times at
first, and everybody was on the best of terms with everybody else, as
you know. There was plenty to eat without the trouble to steal, and
everybody was honest simply because it was easier to be honest than it
was to be dishonest. So Old King Bear ruled in the Green Forest, and
everybody was happy and contented.
"But there came a time when food was scarce, and it was no longer
easy to get plenty to eat. It was then that the stronger began to
steal from the weaker, and by and by even to prey upon those smaller
than themselves. The times grew harder and harder, and because hunger
is a hard and cruel master, it made the larger and stronger people
hard and cruel, too. Some of them it made very sly and cunning, like
old Mr. Fox. Mr. Coyote was another whom it made sly and cunning. He
was smart in the first place, even smarter than Mr. Fox, and he very
early made up his mind that if he would live, it must be by his wits,
for he wasn't big enough or strong enough to fight with his neighbors
such as his big cousin, Mr. Timber Wolf, or Mr. Lynx, or Mr. Panther
or Old King Bear, who was king no longer. And yet he liked the same
things to eat.
"So he used to study and plan how he could outwit them without danger
to himself. 'A whole skin is better than a full stomach, but both a
whole skin and a full stomach are better still,' said he to himself;
as he thought and schemed. For a while he was content to catch what he
could without danger to himself, and to eat what his bigger and
stronger neighbors left when they happened to get more than they
wanted for themselves. Little by little he got the habit of slyly
following them when they were hunting, always keeping out of sight. In
this way, he managed to get many meals of scraps. But these scraps
never wholly satisfied him, and his mouth used to water as he watched
the others feast on the very best when they had had a successful hunt.
He knew it wouldn't be of the least use to go out and boldly ask for
some, for in those hard times everybody was very, very selfish.
"The times grew harder and harder, until it seemed as if Old Mother
Nature had wholly forgotten her little people of the Green Meadows and
the Green Forest. Mr. Coyote still managed to pick up a living, but he
was hungry most of the time, and the less he had to put in his
stomach, the sharper his wits grew. At last one day, as he stole
soft-footed through the Green Forest, he discovered Mr. Lynx having a
great feast. To keep still and watch him was almost more than Mr.
Coyote could stand, for he was so hungry that it seemed as if the
sides of his stomach almost met, it was so empty.
"'If I could make myself into three, we could take that dinner away
from Mr. Lynx!" thought he, and right on top of that thought came a
great idea. Why not make Mr. Lynx think he had a lot of friends with
him? It would do no harm to try. So Mr. Coyote put his nose up in the
air and howled. Mr. Lynx looked up and grinned. He had no fear of Mr.
Coyote. Then Mr. Coyote hurried around to the other side of Mr. Lynx,
all the time keeping out of sight, and howled again, and this time he
tried to make his voice sound different. Mr. Lynx stopped eating and
looked up a little surprised. 'I wonder if Mr. Coyote has got a
brother with him,' thought he. A minute later Mr. Coyote howled again
from the place where he had howled in the first place. 'He certainly
has,' thought Mr. Lynx, 'but I'm a match for two of them,' and once
more he went on eating.
"Then Mr. Coyote began to run in a circle around Mr. Lynx, always
keeping out of sight in the thick brush, and every few steps he
yelped or howled, and each yelp or howl he tried to make sound
different. Now Mr. Coyote could run very fast, and he ran now as hard
as ever he could in a big circle, yelping and howling and making his
voice sound as different as possible each time. Mr. Lynx grew anxious
and lost his appetite. 'Mr. Coyote must have a whole crowd of
brothers,' thought he. 'I guess this is no place for me!' With that he
started to sneak away.
"Mr. Coyote followed him, still trying to make his voice sound like
the voices of many. Mr. Lynx gave a hurried look over his shoulder and
began to run. Mr. Coyote kept after him, yelping and howling, until he
was sure that Mr. Lynx was so frightened that he wouldn't dare come
back. Then Mr. Coyote returned to the dinner Mr. Lynx had left, and
ate and ate until he couldn't hold another mouthful. His throat was
very raw and sore because he had strained it trying to make his voice
change so often, but he didn't mind this, because, you know, it felt
so good to have all he could eat at one time once more.
"Now it just happened that Old Mother Nature had come along just in
time to see and hear Mr. Coyote, and it tickled her so to think that
Mr. Coyote had been so smart that what do you think she did? Why,
while he slept that night, she healed his sore throat, and she gave
him a new voice; and this voice was very wonderful, for it sounded for
all the world like many voices, all yelping and howling at the same
time. After that, all Mr. Coyote had to do when he wanted to frighten
some one bigger and stronger than himself was to open his mouth and
send forth his new voice, which sounded like many voices.
"So he had plenty to eat from that time on. And all his children and
his children's children had that same wonderful voice, just as Old Man
Coyote has now. Chug-a-rum! Now scamper home, Peter Rabbit, and see
that you don't let Old Man Coyote's sharp wits get you into trouble."
"Thank you, Grandfather Frog!" cried Peter and scampered as fast as he
could go for the dear, safe Old Briar-patch.
IX
WHY MINER THE MOLE LIVES UNDER GROUND
Striped Chipmunk sat staring at a little ridge where the grass was
raised up. He had often seen little ridges like that without thinking
much about them. He knew that they were made by Miner the Mole. He had
known that ever since he was big enough to begin to ask questions. But
now as he looked at this one, it suddenly struck him that he had not
seen Miner the Mole more than once or twice in all his life.
"What a queer way of living!" thought Striped Chipmunk. "It's all very
well to have a snug house under the ground, where one can sleep the
long cold winter away and be perfectly safe, but what any one wants to
live under the ground all the time for, in the beautiful springtime
and summertime and autumntime, I can't understand. Just think of all
that Miner misses--the sunshine, the flowers, the songs of the birds,
and the Merry Little Breezes to play with! I wonder--"
"What do you wonder?" The voice was so close to Striped Chipmunk that
it made him jump. He whirled about. There was Johnny Chuck, who had
tiptoed up as softly as he knew how, to give Striped Chipmunk a scare.
Johnny grinned. "What do you wonder?" he repeated.
Striped Chipmunk made a face at Johnny. "I wonder something that I bet
you don't know," he replied.
"That's easy," replied Johnny. "There are more things I don't know
than I do know, but I'm always ready to learn. What is it this time?"
"Why does Miner the Mole live under ground all the time?" Striped
Chipmunk pointed to the ridge made by Miner.
Johnny Chuck scratched his head thoughtfully.