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THE ADVENTURES OF CHATTERER THE RED SQUIRREL
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| BOOKS BY THORNTON W. BURGESS |
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| THE BEDTIME STORY-BOOKS |
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| 1. THE ADVENTURES OF REDDY FOX |
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| 2. THE ADVENTURES OF JOHNNY CHUCK |
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| 3. THE ADVENTURES OF PETER COTTONTAIL |
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| 4. THE ADVENTURES OF UNC' BILLY POSSUM |
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| 5. THE ADVENTURES OF MR. MOCKER |
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| 6. THE ADVENTURES OF JERRY MUSKRAT |
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| 7. THE ADVENTURES OF DANNY MEADOW MOUSE |
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| 8. THE ADVENTURES OF GRANDFATHER FROG |
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| 9. THE ADVENTURES OF CHATTERER, THE RED SQUIRREL |
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| 10. THE ADVENTURES OF SAMMY JAY |
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| 11. THE ADVENTURES OF BUSTER BEAR |
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| 12. THE ADVENTURES OF OLD MR. TOAD |
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| 13. THE ADVENTURES OF PRICKLY PORKY |
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| 14. THE ADVENTURES OF OLD MAN COYOTE |
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| 15. THE ADVENTURES OF PADDY THE BEAVER |
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| 16. THE ADVENTURES OF POOR MRS. QUACK |
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| 17. THE ADVENTURES OF BOBBY COON |
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| 18. THE ADVENTURES OF JIMMY SKUNK |
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| 19. THE ADVENTURES OF BOB WHITE |
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| 20. THE ADVENTURES OF OL' MISTAH BUZZARD |
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| * * * * * |
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| MOTHER WEST WIND SERIES |
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| 1. OLD MOTHER WEST WIND |
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| 2. MOTHER WEST WIND'S CHILDREN |
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| 3. MOTHER WEST WIND'S ANIMAL FRIENDS |
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| 4. MOTHER WEST WIND'S NEIGHBORS |
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| 5. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHY" STORIES |
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| 6. MOTHER WEST WIND "HOW" STORIES |
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| 7. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES |
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| 8. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHERE" STORIES |
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| * * * * * |
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| GREEN MEADOW SERIES |
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| 1. HAPPY JACK |
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| 2. MRS. PETER RABBIT |
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| 3. BOWSER THE HOUND |
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| * * * * * |
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| THE BURGESS BIRD BOOK FOR CHILDREN |
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Illustration: It seemed as if that little voice inside had fairly
shouted in his ears: "I am afraid." Frontispiece. _See Page 118._
BURGESS QUADDIES (_TRADE MARK_)
The Bedtime Story-Books
THE ADVENTURES OF CHATTERER THE RED SQUIRREL
BY THORNTON W. BURGESS
Author of "Old Mother West Wind," "The Adventures of Johnny Chuck,"
"Mother West Wind 'Why' Stories," etc.
_With Illustrations by HARRISON CADY_
Illustration
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1920
_Copyright, 1915_
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
_All rights reserved_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. CHATTERER THE RED SQUIRREL RUNS FOR HIS LIFE 1
II. CHATTERER'S LAST CHANCE 6
III. CHATTERER TELLS SAMMY JAY ABOUT SHADOW THE WEASEL 11
IV. CHATTERER LEAVES THE GREEN FOREST 17
V. CHATTERER FINDS A HOME 23
VI. PETER RABBIT LISTENS TO THE WRONG VOICE 28
VII. HOW CHATTERER HAD FOOLED PETER RABBIT 33
VIII. CHATTERER GROWS CARELESS 38
IX. CHATTERER GROWS TOO CURIOUS 43
X. OLD MR. TROUBLE GETS CHATTERER AT LAST 49
XI. WHAT HAPPENED NEXT TO CHATTERER 53
XII. CHATTERER IS SURE THAT THIS IS HIS LAST DAY 57
XIII. CHATTERER IS PUT IN PRISON 62
XIV. CHATTERER DECIDES TO LIVE 68
XV. FARMER BROWN'S BOY TRIES TO MAKE FRIENDS 73
XVI. CHATTERER HAS A PLEASANT SURPRISE 78
XVII. SAMMY JAY'S SHARP EYES 83
XVIII. CHATTERER IS MADE FUN OF 88
XIX. PETER RABBIT TRIES TO HELP 93
XX. CHATTERER HAS ANOTHER GREAT SURPRISE 99
XXI. CHATTERER HEARS THE SMALL VOICE 104
XXII. TOMMY TIT MAKES GOOD HIS BOAST 110
XXIII. CHATTERER GROWS VERY, VERY BOLD 116
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
IT SEEMED AS IF THAT LITTLE VOICE INSIDE HAD FAIRLY SHOUTED IN HIS
EARS, "I AM AFRAID" _Frontispiece_
"WHAT'S THAT?" SAMMY JAY ASKED SHARPLY 12
"HAVE YOU FOUND A NEW HOME YET?" ASKED PETER 26
VERY CAUTIOUSLY CHATTERER PEEPED INSIDE THE HOLE 67
"YOU TELL CHATTERER THAT I'LL GET HIM YET!" SNARLED SHADOW 84
"I'D BE WILLING TO TRY IT IF IT WAS OF ANY USE. BUT IT ISN'T,"
SAID PRICKLY PORKY 97
THE ADVENTURES OF CHATTERER THE RED SQUIRREL
I CHATTERER THE RED SQUIRREL RUNS FOR HIS LIFE
Chatterer the Red Squirrel had been scolding because there was no
excitement. He had even tried to make some excitement by waking Bobby
Coon and making him so angry that Bobby had threatened to eat him alive.
It had been great fun to dance around and call Bobby names and make fun
of him. Oh, yes, it had been great fun. You see, he knew all the time
that Bobby couldn't catch him if he should try. But now things were
different. Chatterer had all the excitement that he wanted. Indeed, he
had more than he wanted. The truth is, Chatterer was running for his
life, and he knew it.
It is a terrible thing, a very terrible thing to have to run for one's
life. Peter Rabbit knows all about it. He has run for his life often.
Sometimes it has been Reddy Fox behind him, sometimes Bowser the Hound,
and once or twice Old Man Coyote. Peter has known that on his long legs
his life has depended, and more than once a terrible fear has filled his
heart. But Peter has also known that if he could reach the old stone
wall or the dear Old Briar-patch first, he would be safe, and he always
has reached it. So when he has been running with that terrible fear in
his heart, there has always been hope there, too.
But Chatterer the Red Squirrel was running without hope. Yes, Sir, there
was nothing but fear, terrible fear, in his heart, for he knew not where
to go. The hollow tree or the holes in the old stone wall where he would
be safe from any one else, even Farmer Brown's boy, offered him no
safety now, for the one who was following him with hunger in his
anger-red eyes could go anywhere that he could go--could go into any
hole big enough for him to squeeze into. You see, it was Shadow the
Weasel from whom Chatterer was running, and Shadow is so slim that he
can slip in and out of places that even Chatterer cannot get through.
Chatterer knew all this, and so, because it was of no use to run to his
usual safe hiding places, he ran in just the other direction. He didn't
know where he was going. He had just one thought: to run and run as
long as he could and then, well, he would try to fight, though he knew
it would be of no use.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" he sobbed, as he ran out on the branch of a tree
and leaped across to the next tree, "I wish I had minded my own
business! I wish I had kept my tongue still. Shadow the Weasel wouldn't
have known where I was if he hadn't heard my voice. Oh, dear! oh, dear
me! What can I do? What can I do?"
Now in his great fright Chatterer had run and jumped so hard that he was
beginning to grow very tired. Presently he found that he must make a
very long jump to reach the next tree. He had often made as long a jump
as this and thought nothing of it, but now he was so tired that the
distance looked twice as great as it really was. He didn't dare stop to
run down the tree and scamper across. So he took a long breath, ran
swiftly along the branch, and leaped. His hands just touched the tip of
the nearest branch of the other tree. He tried his very best to hold on,
but he couldn't. Then down, down, down he fell. He spread himself out as
flat as he could, and that saved him a little, but still it was a
dreadful fall, and when he landed, it seemed for just a minute as if all
the breath was gone from his body. But it wasn't quite, and in another
minute he was scrambling up the tree.
II CHATTERER'S LAST CHANCE
Chatterer, still running for his life and without the least hope,
suddenly saw a last chance to escape from Shadow the Weasel. That is, he
saw something that might offer him a chance. He couldn't be sure until
he had tried, and even then he might escape from one danger only to run
right into another equally great. What Chatterer saw was a big brown
bunch near the top of a tall chestnut-tree, and he headed for that tree
as fast as ever he could go. What was that big brown bunch? Why it was
Redtail the Hawk, who was dozing there with his head drawn down between
his shoulders dreaming.
Now old Redtail is one of Chatterer's deadliest enemies. He is quite as
fond of Red Squirrel as is Shadow the Weasel, though he doesn't often
try to catch one, because there are other things to eat much easier to
get. Chatterer had had more than one narrow escape from old Redtail and
was very much afraid of him, yet here he was running up the very tree in
which Redtail was sitting. You see, a very daring idea had come into his
head. He had seen at once that Redtail was dozing and hadn't seen him at
all. He knew that Redtail would just as soon have Shadow the Weasel for
dinner as himself, and a very daring plan had popped into his head.
"I may as well be caught by Redtail as Shadow," he thought, as he ran up
the tree, "but if my plan works out right, I won't be caught by either.
Anyway, it is my very last chance."
Up the tree he scrambled, and after him went Shadow the Weasel. Shadow
had been so intent on catching Chatterer that he had not noticed old
Redtail, which was just as Chatterer had hoped. Up, up he scrambled,
straight past old Redtail, but as he passed, he pulled one of Redtail's
long tail feathers, and then ran on to the top of the tree, and with the
last bit of strength he had left, leaped to a neighboring spruce-tree
where, hidden by the thick branches, he stopped to rest and see what
would happen.
Of course, when he felt his tail pulled, old Redtail was wide awake in a
flash; and of course he looked down to see who had dared to pull his
tail. There just below him was Shadow the Weasel, who had just that
minute discovered who was sitting there. Old Redtail hissed sharply,
and the feathers on the top of his head stood up in a way they do when
he is angry. And he was angry--very angry.
Shadow the Weasel stopped short. Then, like a flash, he dodged around to
the other side of the tree. He had no thought of Chatterer now. Things
were changed all in an instant, quite changed. Instead of the hunter, he
was now the hunted. Old Redtail circled in the air just overhead, and
every time he caught sight of Shadow, he swooped at him with great,
cruel claws spread to clutch him. Shadow dodged around the trunk of the
tree. He was more angry than frightened, for his sharp eyes had spied a
little hollow in a branch of the chestnut-tree, and he knew that once
inside of that, he would have nothing to fear. But he was angry clear
through to think that he should be cheated out of that dinner he had
been so sure of only a few minutes before. So he screeched angrily at
old Redtail and then, watching his chance, scampered out to the hollow
and whisked inside, just in the nick of time.
Chatterer, watching from the spruce-tree, gave a great sigh of relief.
He saw Redtail the Hawk post himself on the top of a tall tree where he
could keep watch of that hollow in which Shadow had disappeared, and he
knew that it would be a long time before Shadow would dare poke even his
nose outside. Then, as soon as he was rested, Chatterer stole softly,
oh, so softly, away through the tree-tops until he was sure that Redtail
could not see him. Then he hurried. He wanted to get just as far away
from Shadow the Weasel as he could.
III CHATTERER TELLS SAMMY JAY ABOUT SHADOW THE WEASEL
Chatterer hurried through the Green Forest. He didn't know just where he
was going. He had but one thought, and that was to get as far away from
Shadow the Weasel as he could. It made him have cold shivers all over
every time he thought of Shadow.
"Seems to me you are in a great hurry," said a voice from a pine-tree he
was passing.
Chatterer knew that voice without looking to see who was speaking.
Everybody in the Green Forest knows that voice. It was the voice of
Sammy Jay.
"It looks to me as if you were running away from some one," jeered
Sammy.
Chatterer wanted to stop and pick a quarrel with Sammy, as he usually
did when they met, but the fear of Shadow the Weasel was still upon him.
"I--I--am," he said in a very low voice.
Sammy looked as if he thought he hadn't heard right. Never before had he
known Chatterer to admit that he was afraid, for you know Chatterer is a
great boaster. It must be something very serious to frighten Chatterer
like that.
"What's that?" Sammy asked sharply. "I always knew you to be a coward,
but this is the first time I have ever known you to admit it. Who are
you running away from?"
Illustration: "What's that?" Sammy asked sharply.
"Shadow the Weasel," replied Chatterer, still in a very low voice, as
if he were afraid of being overheard. "Shadow the Weasel is back in the
Green Forest, and I have just had such a narrow escape!"
"Ho!" cried Sammy, "this is important. I thought Shadow was up in the
Old Pasture. If he has come back to the Green Forest, folks ought to
know it. Where is he now?"
Chatterer stopped and told Sammy all about his narrow escape and how he
had left Shadow the Weasel in a hollow of a chestnut-tree with Redtail
the Hawk watching for him to come out. Sammy's eyes sparkled when
Chatterer told how he had pulled the tail of old Redtail. "And he
doesn't know now who did it; he thinks it was Shadow," concluded
Chatterer, with a weak little grin.
"Ho, ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Sammy Jay. "I wish I had been there
to see it."
Then he suddenly grew grave. "Other folks certainly ought to know that
Shadow is back in the Green Forest," said he, "so that they may be on
their guard. Then if they get caught, it is their own fault. I think
I'll go spread the news." You see, for all his mean ways, Sammy Jay does
have some good in him, just as everybody does, and he dearly loves to
tell important news.
"I--I wish you would go first of all and tell my cousin, Happy Jack the
Gray Squirrel," said Chatterer, speaking in a hesitating way.
Sammy Jay leaned over and looked at Chatterer sharply. "I thought you
and Happy Jack were not friends," said he. "You always seem to be
quarreling."
Chatterer looked a little confused, but he is very quick with his
tongue, is Chatterer. "That's just it," he replied quickly. "That's just
it! If anything should happen to Happy Jack, I wouldn't have him to
quarrel with, and it is such fun to see him get mad!"
Now of course the real reason why Chatterer wanted Happy Jack warned was
because down inside he was ashamed of a dreadful thought that had come
to him of leading Shadow the Weasel to Happy Jack's house, so that he
himself might escape. It had been a dreadful thought, a cowardly
thought, and Chatterer had been really ashamed that he should have ever
had such a thought. He thought now that if he could do something for
Happy Jack, he would feel better about it.
Sammy Jay promised to go straight to Happy Jack and warn him that
Shadow the Weasel was back in the Green Forest, and off he started,
screaming the news as he flew, so that all the little people in the
Green Forest might know. Chatterer listened a few minutes and then
started on.
"Where shall I go?" he muttered. "Where shall I go? I don't dare stay in
the Green Forest, for now Shadow will never rest until he catches me."
IV CHATTERER LEAVES THE GREEN FOREST
Chatterer was in a peck of trouble. Yes, Sir, he was in a peck of
trouble. There was no doubt about it. "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! If only I had
kept my tongue still! If only I had kept my tongue still!" he kept
saying over and over to himself, as he hurried through the Green Forest.
You see, Chatterer was just beginning to realize what a lot of trouble
an unruly tongue can get one into. Here it was cold weather, the very
edge of winter, and Chatterer didn't dare stay in the Green Forest where
he had always made his home. His storehouses were full of nuts and seeds
and corn, enough and more than enough to keep him in comfort all
winter, and now he must turn his back on them and go he didn't know
where, and all because of his mean disposition and bad tongue.
If he hadn't called Bobby Coon names that morning at the top of his
voice, Shadow the Weasel might not have found him. He knew that Shadow
has a long memory, and that he would never forget the trick by which
Chatterer had escaped, and so the only way Chatterer would ever be able
to have a moment's peace would be to leave the Green Forest for as long
as Shadow the Weasel chose to stay there. Chatterer shivered inside his
warm, red fur coat as he thought of the long, cold winter and how hard
it would be to find enough to eat. Was ever any one else in such a
dreadful fix?
Presently he came to the edge of the Green Forest. He sat down to rest
in the top of a tree where he could look off over the Green Meadows.
Far, far away he could see the Purple Hills, behind which jolly, round,
red Mr. Sun goes to bed every night. He could see the old stone wall
that separates Farmer Brown's cornfield from the Green Meadows. He could
see Farmer Brown's house and barn and near them the Old Orchard where
Johnny Chuck had spent the summer with Polly Chuck and their baby
Chucks. He knew every nook and corner in the old stone wall and many
times he had been to the Old Orchard. It was there that he had stolen
the eggs of Drummer the Woodpecker. He grinned at the thought of those
eggs and how he had stolen them, and then he shivered as he remembered
how he had finally been caught and how sharp the bills of Drummer and
Mrs. Drummer were.
But all that was in the past, and thinking about it wasn't going to help
him now. He had got to do something right away. Perhaps he might find a
place to live in the old stone wall, and there might, there just might,
be enough grains of corn scattered over the ground of the cornfield for
him to lay up a supply, if he worked very hard and fast. Anyway, he
would have a look. So he hurried down from the tree and out along the
old stone wall. His spirits began to rise as he whisked along, peering
into every hole and jumping from stone to stone. It really seemed as
though he might find a snug home somewhere here. Then he remembered
something that made his heart sink again. He remembered having seen
Shadow the Weasel more than once exploring that very wall. Just as
likely as not he would do it again, for it was so very near the Green
Forest. No, the old stone wall wouldn't do.
Just then along came Peter Rabbit. Peter saw right away that something
was wrong with Chatterer, and he wanted to know what it was. Chatterer
told him. He felt that he had just got to tell some one. Peter looked
thoughtful. He scratched his long left ear with his long right hind
foot.
"You know there is another old stone wall up there by the Old Orchard,"
said he. "It is pretty near Farmer Brown's house, and Black Pussy hunts
there a great deal, but you ought to be smart enough to keep out of her
clutches."
"I should hope so!" exclaimed Chatterer scornfully. "I have never seen
a cat yet that I was afraid of! believe I'll go over and have a look at
that old wall, Peter Rabbit."
"I'll go with you," said Peter, and off they started together.
V CHATTERER FINDS A HOME
When your plans are upset and all scattered about
Just make up your mind that you'll find a way out.
Peter rabbit went straight over to the old stone wall on the edge of the
Old Orchard, lipperty-lipperty-lip so fast that it didn't take him long
to get there. But Chatterer the Red Squirrel never feels really safe on
the ground unless there is something to climb close at hand, so he went
a long way round by way of the rail fence. He always did like to run
along a rail fence, and he wouldn't have minded it a bit this morning
if he hadn't been in such a hurry. It seemed to him that he never would
get there. But of course he did.
When he did get there, he found Peter Rabbit sitting on Johnny Chuck's
doorstep, staring down Johnny Chuck's long hall. "They're asleep," said
he, as Chatterer came up all out of breath. "I've thumped and thumped
and thumped, but it isn't the least bit of use. They are asleep, and
they'll stay asleep until Mistress Spring arrives. I can't understand it
at all. No, Sir, I can't understand how anybody can be willing to miss
this splendid cold weather."
Peter shook his head in a puzzled way and continued to stare down the
long empty hall. Of course he was talking about Johnny and Polly Chuck,
who had gone to sleep for the winter. That sleeping business always
puzzles Peter. It seems to him like a terrible waste of time. But
Chatterer had too much on his mind to waste time wondering how other
people could sleep all winter. He couldn't himself, and now that he had
been driven away from his own home in the Green Forest by fear of Shadow
the Weasel, he couldn't waste a minute. He must find a new home and then
spend every minute of daytime laying up a new store of food for the days
when everything would be covered with snow.
Up and down the length of the stone wall he scampered, looking for a
place to make a home, but nothing suited him. You know he likes best to
make his home in a tree. He isn't like Striped Chipmunk, who lives in
the ground. Poor Chatterer! He just couldn't see how he was going to
live in the old stone wall. He sat on top of a big stone to rest and
think it over. He was discouraged. Life didn't seem worth the living
just then. He felt as if his heart had gone way down to his toes. Just
then his eyes saw something that made his heart come up again with a
great bound right where it ought to be, and just then Peter Rabbit came
hopping along.
"Have you found a new home yet?" asked Peter.
"Yes," replied Chatterer, "I think I have.
"That's good," replied Peter. "I was sure you would find one over here.
Where is it?"
Illustration: "Have you found a new home yet?" asked Peter.
Chatterer opened his mouth to tell Peter and then closed it with a snap.
He remembered just in time how hard it is for Peter to keep a secret. If
he should tell Peter, it would be just like Peter to tell some one else
without meaning to, and then it might get back to Shadow the Weasel.
"I'm not going to tell you now, Peter Rabbit," said he. "You see, I
don't want anybody to know where it is until I am sure that it will do.
But I'll tell you this much," he added, as he saw how disappointed Peter
looked, "I'm going to live right here."
Peter brightened up right away. You see, he thought that of course
Chatterer meant that he had found a hole in the old stone wall, and he
felt very sure that he could find it by keeping watch. "That's good," he
said again. "I'll come see you often. But watch out for Black Pussy; her
claws are very sharp. Now I think I'll be going back to the Old
Briar-patch."
"Don't tell where I am," called Chatterer.
VI PETER RABBIT LISTENS TO THE WRONG VOICE
Peter Rabbit didn't play fair. No, Sir, Peter didn't play fair. People
who have too much curiosity about other people's affairs seldom do play
fair. He didn't mean to be unfair. Oh, my, no! Peter didn't mean to be
unfair. When he left Chatterer the Red Squirrel sitting on the old stone
wall on the edge of Farmer Brown's Old Orchard, he intended to go
straight home to the dear Old Briar-patch. He was a little disappointed,
was Peter, that Chatterer hadn't told him just where his new house was.
Not that it really mattered; he just wanted to know, that was all. With
every jump away from the old stone wall, that desire to know just where
Chatterer's new house was seemed to grow. Peter stopped and looked back.
He couldn't see Chatterer now, because the bushes hid him. And if he
couldn't see Chatterer, why of course Chatterer couldn't see him.
Peter sat down and began to pull his whiskers in a way he has when he is
trying to decide something. It seemed as if two little voices were
quarreling inside him. "Go along home like the good fellow you are and
mind your own business," said one. "Steal back to the old wall and watch
Chatterer and so find out just where his new house is; he'll never know
anything about it, and there'll be no harm done," said the other little
voice. It was louder than the first voice, and Peter liked the sound of
it.
"I believe I will," said he, and without waiting to hear what the first
little voice would say to that, he turned about and very carefully and
softly tiptoed back to the old stone wall. Right near it was a thick
little bush. It seemed to Peter that it must have grown there just to
give him a hiding place. He crawled under it and lay very flat. He could
see along the old stone wall in both directions. Chatterer was sitting
just where he had left him. He was looking in the direction that Peter
had gone when he had said good-by. Peter chuckled to himself. "He's
waiting to make sure I have gone before he goes to that new house of
his," thought Peter. "This is the time I'll fool him."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Peter Rabbit; this is none of your
business," said that little small voice.
"You're not doing a bit of harm. Chatterer has no business to try to
keep his new house a secret, anyway," said the other little voice
inside. And because of his dreadful curiosity, Peter liked the sound of
that voice best and listened to it, and after a while the first voice
grew discouraged and stopped.
Chatterer sat where he was for what seemed to Peter a very long time.
But by and by he gave a sudden funny little flirt of his tail and ran
along the old wall a little way. Then with a hasty look around, he
disappeared in a hole. A minute later he popped his head out for another
look around and then disappeared again. He did this two or three times
as if anxious.
Peter chuckled to himself. "That's his new house right there," said he
to himself, "and now that I know where it is, I think I'll hurry along
home to the dear Old Briar-patch." He was just getting ready to start
when Chatterer popped out of his hole and sat up on a big stone. He was
talking out loud, and Peter listened. Then his long ears began to burn,
for this is what he heard:
"I'm glad that Peter's not a spy,
For spies are hateful as can be;
It's dreadful how some people try
Affairs of other folks to see."
Chatterer whisked out of sight, and Peter hurried to get away. His ears
still burned, and somehow he didn't feel so tickled over the thought
that he had discovered Chatterer's secret as he had thought he would.
And over in the hole in the old stone wall Chatterer the Red Squirrel
was laughing as if there was some great joke. There was, and the joke
was on Peter Rabbit. You see he hadn't discovered Chatterer's new house
at all.
VII HOW CHATTERER HAD FOOLED PETER RABBIT
Chatterer the Red Squirrel is a scamp himself and not to be trusted.
Nobody in the Green Forest or on the Green Meadows trusts him. And
people who cannot be trusted themselves never trust any one else.
Chatterer never does. He is always suspicious. So when Peter Rabbit had
said good-by and started for the dear Old Briar-patch without knowing
where Chatterer's new house was, Chatterer had made up his mind right
away that Peter would never be satisfied until he knew, or thought he
knew, where that new house was. You see, he knew all about Peter's
dreadful curiosity.
He watched Peter out of sight, then he slipped down out of sight himself
between the stones of the old wall. "I know what Peter will do," said he
to himself. "Peter will come sneaking back, and hide where he can watch
me, and so find out where my new house is. I'll just stay here long
enough to give him a chance to hide, and then I'll fool him."
You see, Chatterer knew that if he had been in Peter's place, he would
have done just that thing. So he waited a little while and then went
back to the place where Peter had left him. There he sat and pretended
to be looking in the direction in which Peter had gone, as if to make
sure that Peter was really on his way home. But all the time Chatterer
was watching out of the corners of his eyes to see if Peter was hiding
anywhere near. He didn't see Peter, but he didn't have the least doubt
that Peter was somewhere about.
After a while, he ran over to a hole between the stones of the old wall
and pretended to be very busy there, just as if it really were the new
house he had found. He kept popping in and out and looking around as if
afraid that some one was watching him. He even got some dry leaves and
took them inside, as if to make a bed. All the time, although he hadn't
seen a sign of Peter, he didn't have the least doubt in the world that
Peter was watching him. When he grew tired, a new idea popped into his
shrewd little head. He popped out of the hole and sat up on the wall.
Then he said aloud that verse which had made Peter's ears burn so. He
had meant to make Peter's ears burn. He said that verse just as if he
really did believe that Peter was not spying on him and was glad of it.
When he had finished, he whisked out of sight again to give Peter a
chance to get away. But this time Chatterer did some peeking himself. He
hid where Peter couldn't see him, but where he himself could see both
ways along the old stone wall, and so it was that he saw Peter crawl out
from under the little bush where he had been hiding and sneak away in
the direction of the Old Briar-patch. And he knew that this time Peter
had gone for good.
Then Chatterer laughed and laughed to think how he had fooled Peter
Rabbit, and wished that he could pat himself on the back for being so
smart. He didn't once think of how dishonest and mean it was of Peter to
spy on him, because, you see, he would have done the same thing himself.
"One has to have one's wits very sharp these days to keep a secret,"
chuckled Chatterer.
But over in the old Briar-patch that afternoon Peter Rabbit sat very
thoughtful and very much ashamed. The thought that he had found out
where Chatterer's new house was didn't give him the pleasure that he had
thought it would. His ears still burned, for he thought that Chatterer
supposed him honest when he wasn't.
"I believe I'll go over to-morrow and tell Chatterer all about it and
how mean I have been," said he at last. And when he had made up his mind
to do this, he felt better.
And all the time he hadn't found Chatterer's new house at all. You see,
it was the old home of Drummer the Woodpecker in an old apple-tree which
Chatterer had decided to live in.
VIII CHATTERER GROWS CARELESS
When you grow careless even though
It be in matters small,
Old Mr. Trouble you will find
Is bound to make a call.
Some people never seem to learn that. You would suppose that after all
the trouble and worry Chatterer the Red Squirrel had had, he would have
learned a lesson. For a while it seemed as if he had. Morning after
morning, before anybody was up in Farmer Brown's house, he visited
Farmer Brown's corn-crib, taking the greatest care not to be seen and to
get back to his home in the Old Orchard before it was time for Farmer
Brown's boy to come out and do his morning's work. And in the corn-crib
he took the greatest care to steal only where what he took would not be
missed. The empty cobs from which he had eaten the corn he hid in the
darkest corner behind the great pile of yellow corn, where they would
not be found until nearly all the corn had been taken from the crib. Oh,
he was very sly and crafty, was Chatterer the Red Squirrel--at first.
But after a while, when nothing happened, Chatterer grew careless. At
first it had seemed very dangerous to go over to the corn-crib, but
after he had been there often, it didn't seem dangerous at all. Once
inside, he would just give himself up to having a good time. He raced
about over the great pile of beautiful yellow corn and found the
loveliest hiding places in it. Down in a dark corner he made a splendid
bed from pieces of husk which hadn't been stripped from some of the
ears. It was quite the nicest place he had ever dreamed of, was Farmer
Brown's corn-crib. He got to feeling that it was his own and not Farmer
Brown's at all.
The more that feeling grew, the more careless Chatterer became. He
dropped a grain of corn now and then and was too lazy to go down and
pick it up, or else didn't think anything about it. Farmer Brown's boy,
coming every morning for corn for the hens, noticed these grains, but
supposed they were some that had been rubbed from the ears during the
handling of them. Then one morning Chatterer dropped a cob from which he
had eaten all the corn. He meant to get it and hide it, as he had hidden
other cobs, but he didn't want to do it just then. And later--well,
then he forgot all about it. Yes, Sir, he forgot all about it until he
had reached his home in the Old Orchard.
"Oh, well," thought Chatterer, "it doesn't matter. I can get it and hide
it to-morrow morning."
Now a corn-cob is a very simple thing. Farmer Brown's boy knew where
there was a whole pile of them. He added to that pile every day, after
shelling enough corn for the biddies. So it would seem that there was
nothing about a corn-cob to make him open his eyes as he did that
morning, when he saw the one left by Chatterer the Red Squirrel. But you
see he knew that a bare corn-cob had no business inside the corn-crib,
and suddenly those scattered grains of corn had a new meaning for him.
"Ha, ha!" he exclaimed, "A thief has been here, after all! I thought we
were safe from rats and mice, and I don't see now how they got in, for I
don't, I really don't, see how they could climb the stone legs of the
corn-crib. But some one with sharp teeth certainly has been in here. It
must be that I have left the door open some time, and a rat has slipped
in. I'll just have to get after you, Mr. Rat or Mr. Mouse. We can't have
you in our corn-crib."
With that he went into the house. Presently he came back, and in one
hand was a rat-trap and in the other a mouse-trap.
IX CHATTERER GROWS TOO CURIOUS
Everybody knows how curious Peter Rabbit is. He is forever poking his
wobbly little nose in where it has no business to be, and as a result
Peter is forever getting into trouble. Whenever Chatterer the Red
Squirrel has heard a new story about Peter and the scrapes his curiosity
has got him into, Chatterer has said that Peter got no more than he
deserved. As for himself, he might be curious about a thing he saw for
the first time, but he had too much sense to meddle with it until he
knew all about it. So Chatterer has come to be thought very smart, quite
too smart to be caught in a trap--at least to be caught in an ordinary
trap.
Now a great many people manage to make their neighbors think they are a
great deal smarter than they really are, and Chatterer is one of this
kind. If some of his neighbors could have peeped into Farmer Brown's
corn-crib the morning after Farmer Brown's boy found the telltale
corn-cob so carelessly dropped by Chatterer, they would have been
surprised. Yes, Sir, they would have been surprised. They would have
seen Chatterer the Red Squirrel, the boaster, he of the sharp wits,
showing quite as much curiosity as ever possessed Peter Rabbit.
Chatterer had come over to the corn-crib as usual to get his daily
supply of corn. As usual, he had raced about over the great pile of
yellow corn. Quite suddenly his sharp eyes spied something that they
hadn't seen before. It was down on the floor of the corn-crib quite near
the door. Chatterer was sure that it hadn't been there the day before.
It was a very queer looking thing, very queer indeed. And then he spied
another queer looking thing near it, only this was very much smaller.
What could they be? He looked at them suspiciously. They looked harmless
enough. They didn't move. He ran a few steps towards them and scolded,
just as he scolds at anything new he finds out of doors. Still they
didn't move. He ran around on a little ledge where he could look right
down on the queer things. He was sure now that they were not alive. The
biggest one he could see all through. Inside was something to eat. The
littlest thing was round and flat with funny bits of wire on top. It
looked as if it were made of wood, and in the sides were little round
holes too small for him to put his head through.
"Leave them alone," said a small voice inside of Chatterer.
"But I want to see what they are and find out all about them," said
Chatterer.
"No good ever comes of meddling with things you don't know about," said
the small voice.
"But they are such queer looking things, and they're not alive. They
can't hurt me," said Chatterer.
Nevertheless he ran back to the pile of corn and tried to eat. Somehow
he had lost his appetite. He couldn't take his eyes off those two queer
things down on the floor.
"Better keep away," warned the small voice inside.
"It won't do any harm to have a closer look at them," said Chatterer.
So once more he scrambled down from the pile of corn and little by
little drew nearer to the two queer things. The nearer he got, the more
harmless they looked. Finally he reached out and smelled of the
smallest. Then he turned up his nose.
"Smells of mice," muttered Chatterer, "just common barn mice." Then he
reached out a paw and touched it. "Pooh!" said he, "it's nothing to be
afraid of." Just then he touched one of the little wires, and there was
a sudden snap. It frightened Chatterer so that he scurried away. But he
couldn't stay away. That snap was such a funny thing, and it hadn't done
any harm. You see, he hadn't put his paw in at one of the little holes,
or it might have done some harm.
Pretty soon he was back again, meddling with those little wires on top.
Every once in a while there would be a snap, and he would scamper away.
It was very scary and great fun. By and by the thing wouldn't snap any
more, and then Chatterer grew tired of his queer plaything and began to
wonder about the other queer thing. No harm had come from the first one,
and so he was sure no harm could come from the other.
X OLD MR. TROUBLE GETS CHATTERER AT LAST
Of course you have guessed what it was that Chatterer had been meddling
with. It was a mouse-trap, and he had sprung it without getting hurt.
Chatterer didn't know that it was a trap. He ought to have known, but he
didn't. You see, it was not at all like the traps Farmer Brown's boy had
sometimes set for him in the Green Forest. He knew all about those traps
and never, never went near them. Now that there was nothing more
exciting about the mouse-trap, Chatterer turned his attention to the
other queer thing. He walked all around it and looked at it from every
side. It certainly was queer. Yes, Sir, it certainly was queer! It
looked something like a little house only he could see all through it.
He put one paw out and touched it. Nothing happened. He tried it again.
Then he jumped right on top of it. Still nothing happened. He tried his
sharp teeth on it, but he couldn't bite it. You see, it was made of
stout wire.
Inside was something that looked good to eat. It smelled good, too.
Chatterer began to wonder what it would taste like. The more he
wondered, the more he wanted to know. There must be some way of getting
in, and if he could get in, of course he could get out again. He jumped
down to the floor and ran all around the queer little wire house. At
each end was a sort of little wire hallway. Chatterer stuck his head in
one. It seemed perfectly safe. He crept a little way in and then backed
out in a hurry. Nothing happened. He tried it again. Still nothing
happened.
"Better keep away," said a small voice down inside of him.
"Pooh! Who's afraid!" said Chatterer. "This thing can't hurt me."
Then he crept a little farther in. Right in front of him was a little
round doorway with a little wire door. Chatterer pushed the little door
with his nose, and it opened a teeny, weeny bit. He drew back
suspiciously. Then he tried it again, and this time pushed the little
door a little farther open. He did this two or three times until finally
he had his head quite inside, and there, right down below him, was that
food he so wanted to taste.
"I can hop right down and get it and then hop right up again," thought
Chatterer.
"Don't do it," said the small voice inside. "Corn is plenty good enough.
Besides, it is time you were getting back to the Old Orchard."
"It won't take but a minute," said Chatterer, "and I really must know
what that tastes like."
With that he jumped down. Snap! Chatterer looked up. The little wire
door had closed. Old Mr. Trouble had got Chatterer at last. Yes, Sir, he
certainly had got Chatterer this time. You see, he couldn't open that
little wire door from the inside. He was in a trap--the wire rat-trap
set by Farmer Brown's boy.
XI WHAT HAPPENED NEXT TO CHATTERER
Were you ever terribly, terribly frightened? That was the way Chatterer
felt. He was caught; there was no doubt about it! His sharp teeth were
of no use at all on those hard wires. He could look out between them,
but he couldn't get out. He was too frightened to think. His heart
pounded against his sides until it hurt. He forgot all about that queer
food he had so wanted to taste, and which was right before him now.
Indeed, he felt as if he never, never would want to eat again. What was
going to happen to him now? What would Farmer Brown's boy do to him when
he found him there?
Hark! What was that? It was a step just outside the door of the
corn-crib. Farmer Brown's boy was coming! Chatterer raced around his
little wire prison and bit savagely at the hard wires. But it was of no
use, no use at all. It only hurt his mouth cruelly. Then the door of the
corn-crib swung open, a flood of light poured in, and with it came
Farmer Brown's boy.
"Hello!" exclaimed Farmer Brown's boy, as he caught sight of Chatterer.
"So you are the thief who has been stealing our corn, and I thought it
was a rat or a mouse. Well, well, you little red rascal, didn't you know
that thieves come to no good end? You're pretty smart, for I never once
thought of you, but you were not so smart as you thought. Now I wonder
what we had better do with you."
He picked up the trap with Chatterer in it and stepped out into the
beautiful great out-of-doors. Chatterer could see across the dooryard to
the Old Orchard and the familiar old stone wall along which he had
scampered so often. They looked just the same as ever, and yet--well,
they didn't look just the same, for he couldn't look at them without
seeing those cruel wires which were keeping him from them.
Farmer Brown's boy put the trap down on the ground and then began to
call. "Puss, Puss, Puss," called Farmer Brown's boy. Chatterer's heart,
which had been thumping so, almost stopped beating with fright. There
was Black Pussy, whom he had so often teased and made fun of. Her yellow
eyes had a hungry gleam as she walked around the trap and sniffed and
sniffed. Never had Chatterer heard such a terrible sound as those
hungry sniffs so close to him! Black Pussy tried to put a paw between
the wires, and Chatterer saw the great, cruel claws. But Black Pussy
couldn't get her paw between the wires.
"How would you like him for breakfast?" asked Farmer Brown's boy.
"Meow," said Black Pussy, arching her back and rubbing against his legs.
"I suppose that means that you would like him very much," laughed Farmer
Brown's boy. "Do you think you can catch him if I let him out?"
"Meow," replied Black Pussy again, and to poor Chatterer it seemed the
awfullest sound he ever had heard.
"Well, we'll see about it by and by," said Farmer Brown's boy. "There's
the breakfast bell, and I haven't fed the biddies yet."
XII CHATTERER IS SURE THAT THIS IS HIS LAST DAY
There was no hope, not the teeniest, weeniest ray of hope in the heart
of Chatterer, as Farmer Brown's boy picked up the wire rat-trap and
started for the house, Black Pussy, the cat, following at his heels and
looking up at Chatterer with cruel, hungry eyes. Chatterer took a
farewell look at the Old Orchard and way beyond it the Green Forest,
from which he had been driven by fear of Shadow the Weasel. Then the
door of the farmhouse closed and shut it all out. If there had been any
hope in Chatterer's heart, the closing of that door would have shut the
last bit out. But there wasn't any hope. Chatterer was sure that he was
to be given to Black Pussy for her breakfast.
Farmer Brown's boy put the trap on a table. "What have you there?"
called a great voice. It was the voice of Farmer Brown himself, who was
eating his breakfast.
"I've got the thief who has been stealing our corn in the crib," replied
Farmer Brown's boy, "and who do you think it is?"
"One of those pesky rats," replied Farmer Brown. "I'm afraid you've been
careless and left the door open some time, and that is how the rats have
got in there."
"But it isn't a rat, and I don't believe that there is a rat there,"
replied Farmer Brown's boy in triumph. "It's that little scamp of a red
squirrel we've seen racing along the wall at the edge of the Old
Orchard lately. I can't imagine how he got in there, but there he was,
and now here he is."
"What are you going to do with him?" asked Farmer Brown, coming over to
look at Chatterer.
"I don't know," replied Farmer Brown's boy, "unless I give him to Black
Puss for her breakfast. She has been teasing me for him ever since I
found him."
Farmer Brown's boy looked over to the other side of the table as he said
this, and his eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Oh, you mustn't do that! That would be cruel!" cried a soft voice. "You
must take him down to the Green Forest and let him go." A gentle face
with pitying eyes was bent above the trap. "Just see how frightened the
poor little thing is! You must take him straight down to the Green
Forest right after breakfast."
"Isn't that just like Mother?" cried Farmer Brown's boy. "I believe it
would be just the same with the ugliest old rat that ever lived. She
would try to think of some excuse for letting it go."
"God made all the little people who wear fur, and they must have some
place in his great plan," said Mrs. Brown.
Farmer Brown laughed a big, hearty laugh. "True enough, Mother!" said
he. "The trouble is, they get out of place. Now this little rascal's
place is down in the Green Forest and not up in our corn-crib."
"Then put him back in his right place!" was the prompt reply, and they
all laughed.
Now all this time poor Chatterer was thinking that this surely was his
last day. You see, he knew that he had been a thief, and he knew that
Farmer Brown's boy knew it. He just crouched down in a little ball, too
miserable to do anything but tremble every time any one came near. He
was sure that he had seen for the last time the Green Forest and the
Green Meadows and jolly Mr. Sun and all the other beautiful things he
loved so, and it seemed as if his heart would burst with despair.
XIII CHATTERER IS PUT IN PRISON
Who ever does a deed that's wrong
Will surely find some day
That for that naughty act of his
He'll surely have to pay.
That was the way with Chatterer. Of course he had had no business to
steal corn from Farmer Brown's corn-crib. To be sure he had felt that he
had just as much right to that corn as Farmer Brown had. You see, the
little people of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest feel that
everything that grows belongs to them, if they want it and are smart
enough to get it before some one else does. But it is just there that
Chatterer went wrong. Farmer Brown had harvested that corn and stored
it in his corn-crib, and so, of course, no one else had any right to it.
Right down deep in his heart Chatterer knew this. If he hadn't known it,
he wouldn't have been so sly in taking what he wanted. He knew all the
time that he was stealing, but he tried to make himself believe that it
was all right. So he had kept on stealing and stealing until at last he
was caught in a trap, and now he had got to pay for his wrong-doing.
Chatterer was very miserable, so miserable and frightened that he could
do nothing but sit huddled up in a little shivery ball. He hadn't the
least doubt in the world that this was his very last day, and that
Farmer Brown's boy would turn him over to cruel Black Pussy for her
breakfast. Farmer Brown's boy had left him in the trap in the house and
had gone out. For a long time Chatterer could hear pounding out in the
woodshed, and Farmer Brown's boy was whistling as he pounded. Chatterer
wondered how he could whistle and seem so happy when he meant to do such
a dreadful thing as to give him to Black Pussy. After what seemed a very
long time, ages and ages, Farmer Brown's boy came back. He had with him
a queer looking box.
"There," said he, "is a new home for you, you little red imp! I guess it
will keep you out of trouble for a while."
He slid back a little door in the top of the box, and then, putting on a
stout glove and opening a little door in the trap, he put in his big
hand and closed it around Chatterer.
Poor little Chatterer! He was sure now that this was the end, and that
he was to be given to Black Pussy, who was looking on with hungry,
yellow eyes. He struggled and did his best to bite, but the thick glove
gave his sharp little teeth no chance to hurt the hand that held him.
Even in his terror, he noticed that that big hand tried to be gentle and
squeezed him no tighter than was necessary. Then he was lifted out of
the trap and dropped through the little doorway in the top of the queer
box, and the door was fastened. Nothing terrible had happened, after
all.
At first, Chatterer just sulked in one corner. He still felt sure that
something terrible was going to happen. Farmer Brown's boy took the box
out into the shed and put it where the sun shone into it. For a little
while he stayed watching, but Chatterer still sulked and sulked. By and
by he went away, taking Black Pussy with him, and Chatterer was alone.