the way they met more of their friends, all of whom thought it was just
the finest idea in the world to carry a lunch, and they all said--from
Sammie and Susie Littletail, the rabbits, down to Jollie and Jillie
Longtail, the mousie boy and girl--they all said that, the next day,
they were going to do as Toodle and Noodle and Crackie had done, and
bring something to eat for the noon recess.
"Ding-dong!" went the last bell, and all the animal children scampered
into the hollow stump and took their seats, while Miss Lady Bug, the
teacher played on the tin-pan piano so they could sing the morning song.
Then Professor Rat heard the lessons, and some of the pupils went up
head, and some went down foot, for there was not room at the head of
the class for all of them, you see.
Well, when noon time came all the animal children, except Toodle and
Noodle and Crackie hurried home to get their dinners. But the little
beavers took their packages of lunch and went out in a small grove of
trees back of the hollow stump school. There, sitting on their broad,
flat tails, which were like stools to them, with the brown leaves
rustling all around, and a sweet, spicy smell coming up from the earth,
they ate the lunches their mamma had put up for them.
And oh! How good everything tasted! Really twice as good as if they had
gone home and had sat down to the table to eat.
Pretty soon Noodle said: "I'm going off in the woods a little way and
see if I can find any chestnut trees. If I can, I'll tell Johnnie and
Billie Bushytail, the squirrels, and after school they can climb up and
get the nuts. Come on, Toodle."
"Oh, I don't want to," spoke the other little beaver boy. "I haven't
quite finished my lunch yet."
"I'll go with you," said Crackie to Noodle. "I've finished eating and
I'd like to look for chestnut trees."
"All right, come on, little sister," said Noodle, and taking Crackie's
paw in his, so she wouldn't fall and break her nose, off they started.
Mind, I'm not saying for sure that Crackie would have fallen and broken
her nose, but it might have happened, mightn't it?
That left Toodle all alone eating his lunch there in the grove of
trees. He was taking his time about it, and thinking that pretty soon
he would be through, and could go off and meet his sister and brother,
when, all at once, he heard a bird singing in the tree over his head.
And it was such a sad song which the bird sang that Toodle felt the
tears coming into his eyes, though he did not quite know why. The bird
sang about how summer had gone, and all the pretty leaves were falling
off the trees, and how soon it would be cold and icy, and nearly
everyone would freeze. Brr-r-r-r!
"And I shall have to fly far, far away from here," sang the bird, most
sadly.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Toodle. "I wonder why I feel so badly?"
Then the bird, looking down, and seeing how sad Toodle was, chirped
once or twice and said:
"Oh, excuse me, Toodle, I did not mean to make you feel so badly. Wait,
I will sing a different kind of song."
Then the bird sang about how nice it is in winter, with no mosquitoes
to bite you, and how lovely the snow looks as it sifts down, and what
jolly fun it is to go sleigh riding and skating, and how much fun it is
to make snow men, and then how, in the middle of the night, Santa Claus
comes riding over the housetops with his reindeer and their jingling
bells--and all that, until Toodle cried out:
"Oh, winter is the jolliest time of all! I'm glad winter is coming. And
anyhow, Singing Bird, you can come back here in the spring!"
"Yes, I suppose I can," said the bird. And then she suddenly cried out:
"Oh, dear! I dropped it!"
"Dropped what?" asked Toodle, as he heard something fall.
"My pocketbook," answered the singing bird. "It had all my money in
it, and my airship ticket to go down South. I had it in my claw, but I
dropped it and it fell into that pond of water, and now I can't go away
and I'll freeze to death. Oh, dear! My lost pocketbook!"
"Ha! So your pocketbook fell into the water, did it?" asked Toodle,
looking at a little pond that was near where he had eaten his lunch.
"Well, don't worry," he went on to the bird. "I am a good swimmer, and
I just love to go into the water. I'll get your pocketbook back for
you!"
With that into the pond he dived, and, reaching down under water with
his front paws, Toodle brought up the singing bird's pocketbook.
Then Toodle swam with it out on dry land, and the money was all safe
and so was the airship ticket to go down South, and the bird was so
thankful that she sang another song for Toodle.
And, just as it was about finished, what should happen but that out of
the woods came a bad old wolf, sneaking along to get Toodle, who was
so interested in the bird's song that he never noticed the bad creature.
Nearer and nearer came the wolf, and then the bird saw him, and she
knew he was after Toodle, and the bird cried out:
"Come, friends! Come, all you birds! Help save Toodle from the wolf!"
Then about a thousand birds that were going South to spend the winter
where it was warm and sunny, came flying along, and they fluttered all
about that wolf, and they pricked him and nipped him all over, from
the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail, so that the wolf was glad
enough to run back to his den and let Toodle alone.
Then the beaver boy thanked the birds very kindly, and they sang him a
little good-by song, and away they flew to be gone until spring. Then
Noodle and Crackie came back, having found a chestnut tree, and the
noon recess was over, and all the animal children had to go back in
school.
But they had lots of fun there, for Professor Water Rat told them some
jolly stories, and Miss Lady Bug, the teacher, sang a little song, so
that Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail, the beavers, were quite happy.
And so we will say good-by to them while they are having such a good
time. For we have come to the end of this book. There is no more room
in it for any more stories.
But I am going to make another book next year, and in that I am going
to put some stories of little sheep, who had the most jolly times you
can think of in the green meadow by the sparkling brook.
The new book will be called: "Bedtime Stories, Dottie and Willie
Lambkin," and I hope you will like it. So, until I can get that
book ready, I will say just what you said to Toodle and Noodle
Flat-tail--and that is--"Good-bye!"
THE END