The Blowing away of
Mr. Bushy Tail
[Illustration]
THE
BLOWING AWAY OF
MR. BUSHY TAIL
_By_
EDITH B. DAVIDSON
_Pictures by_
CLARA E. ATWOOD
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
DUFFIELD AND COMPANY
1910
[Illustration: Copyright, 1910
By Duffield & Co.]
[Illustration: To my kind hostess at Highwood, within whose hospitable
gates it was written, this little story is dedicated by the Author]
[Illustration: CONTENTS]
i. AND WHEN SHE GOT THERE THE CUPBOARD WAS BARE 9
ii. NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING, NOT EVEN A MOUSE 21
iii. MR. BUSHY TAIL GOES TOBOGGANING 29
iv. ON THE WINGS OF THE NORTH WIND 39
v. AT THE TOP OF THE SOUTH POLE 51
vi. A QUILLY ACQUAINTANCE 63
vii. THE SNORTLING OF THE RING-TAILED SNORTER 75
viii. THE GENTLE SOUTH WIND 87
And when she got there
The cupboard was bare
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Chapter I
“_And when she got there
The cupboard was bare_--”]
It had been an exceptionally cold winter, and Mr. and Mrs. Bushy Tail
had found it very difficult to keep themselves and their two small
children warm.
They had finally moved into Grandmother Chipmunk’s house tree,
which seemed to be more protected from the high winds and the heavy
snow-storms, than their own pretty little nest. The rooms were rather
small, however, and Grandmother Chipmunk snored most awfully, so that
for several nights Baby Bushy Tail could not sleep.
[Illustration]
One cold snowy day, Mrs. Bushy Tail came into the living-room with a
very sober face.
[Illustration: Grandma Chipmunk]
“My dear,” she said to her husband, “the acorns and pine-cones are
nearly gone, and with the exception of a few dried apples and lettuce
leaves, there is nothing left in the cupboard.”
“Ttt, Ttt,” said Grandma Chipmunk, laying down her knitting, and
looking over her spectacles. “Whatever shall we do? Starve?”
Thereupon little Frisky, the oldest boy, set up a fearsome squeaking,
for he liked good things to eat, and did not want to starve.
Of course that started the baby off, and for a few moments no one could
hear themselves think, much less talk.
Frisky having been sent out of the room, and the baby being pacified
with an acorn-cup to play with, Mr. Bushy Tail spoke:
“There’s only one thing to do;” said he, “go across the frozen pond,
and through the woods, to either my cousin Red Squirrel’s or else to
the Chipmunks’. They will gladly lend me corn or oats enough to feed us
for another month, and by that time let us hope that Spring will have
come.”
“You’ll freeze in the deep snow,” said his wife, “or else you will be
blown to the North Pole by the fierce wind. Then I shall be a widow,
and what will the children do? Oh dear! Oh dear!” and she began to cry.
[Illustration]
Mr. Bushy Tail comforted her as best he could, saying that he knew the
path well, that the trees would protect him from the fierce wind, and
that he was too nimble and quick to sink and freeze in the deep snow.
At last, he promised not to go the next morning, unless the weather
was fine, so they all went to bed in their soft mossy nests.
[Illustration]
Not a Creature was Stirring
Not Even a Mouse
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Chapter II
“_Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse_--”]
Bright and early the next morning, Mr. Bushy Tail was up, had washed
his little face and paws, and brushed out his pretty soft fur, of which
he was justly a trifle vain. The sun was shining, and although the air
was very cold, he decided it was best for him to start for his cousin
Red Squirrel’s.
His wife bundled him up in a warm sweater and socks, which she had
made him for a Christmas present. Over his shoulder he slung a bag for
the corn, and promising surely to be back in two days time, he trotted
away, after having kissed the entire family three times all around.
The traveling was much better than he had feared it would be; and he
was fortunate enough to find a bush full of late rose-hips, from which
he made a good dinner.
[Illustration]
Just as it was growing dark, he reached his cousin Red Squirrel’s house
tree, and knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, he went in, for
the neighborhood was a very honest one, and nobody locked their front
doors, or their back ones either.
[Illustration]
Poor Mr. Bushy Tail went from room to room, but to his sorrow he
found no one, not even a mouse. There were some acorns and dried
apples stowed away in one corner, so he made a passable supper, but
he was worried by the thought, that the next day he must go on to the
Chipmunks’ for the corn, and so might be unable to reach home the same
night, as he had promised his little wife.
However, there was no use in borrowing trouble, so he curled himself up
in a warm corner, covered his back with his broad bushy tail, and was
soon fast asleep, and dreaming that he had carried home a whole barrel
full of food.
[Illustration]