most of the birds have flown to the sunny South." Just then Professor
Jim Crow flew by with his little Black Book under his wing:
"Helloa, there, little bunny, how are you this chilly day?" And then
that old crow began to read out of his little book:
"Little rabbit's coat of brown
Soon will turn to white.
Then among the snowy drifts
He can hide from sight.
"You see how Mother Nature looks after you," said that wise old
blackbird. "In the summer your coat is brown like the dry grass
and brambles. But when winter comes it turns white so that you
won't be seen so well against the snow."
Then away flew Professor Jim Crow to read his little Black Book to
somebody else, and the little rabbit hopped along and by and by he
came to the Bubbling Brook where the speckled trout swam in and out
among the rocks and the little fresh water crabs played in the quiet
pools. All of a sudden down fell a tree.
"There," said Busy Beaver, "I'll now have some logs to make a dam."
"Why do you want a dam? Do you want to spoil the Bubbling Brook?"
"It won't spoil the brook," answered the little beaver. "It will only
make it deep so that when I build my house for the winter my front door
won't freeze up tight."
"Oh, I see," said Little Jack Rabbit, and he wiggled his little pink
nose sideways. "And how soon will you have it finished?"
"Oh, long before Old Mr. North Wind brings the snow," answered Busy
Beaver.
Old Mr. North Wind
On his Snow Horse,
Swiftly is riding
Down the golf course,
Over the meadow
And up the steep hill,
Shouting so hoarsely;
"Gid ap, there, Bill!"
DON'T WORRY
In the last story Little Jack Rabbit, of Old Bramble Patch, U. S. A.,
was talking to Busy Beaver, who was making a dam across the Bubbling
Brook, you remember, to keep the water from freezing up his front door
in the cold winter time.
"Every one is getting ready for the cold weather. It won't be long
before my dam is finished and then I'll set to work and make my house of
mud and sticks," and Busy Beaver jumped into the water with a flap of
his broad tail and disappeared. So the little rabbit hopped along, and
by and by he came to the cave where the Big Brown Bear made his home.
"Helloa!" said Little Jack Rabbit, as the Big Brown Bear looked out of
his front door. "Winter time will soon be here."
"Oh, that doesn't worry me," said the Big Brown Bear.
"But what will you eat?" asked the little rabbit.
"When you're asleep you don't feel hungry. On a warm sunny day I may
come out for a little while and find something to eat. I don't worry."
Worry never makes you fat,
Instead, it makes you lean.
Never worry for a minute,--
Worry has the devil in it,--
Keep your mind serene.
And if you don't know what "serene" means, take your father's dictionary
and look up, for the more words you know the wiser you'll grow.
"Well, I don't have to worry about the cold weather," laughed the little
rabbit. "Mother Nature will give me a new white fur overcoat, and the
Old Bramble Patch will keep the wind away, and the cabbage leaves which
mother and I have stored away will last all winter." And then away he
went to see more of his friends in the Shady Forest.
Well, by and by, after a while, he heard the honk of an automobile horn.
"I wonder whether that's Uncle John," and Little Jack Rabbit stopped and
looked all around, and pretty soon, not very long, Mr. John Hare drove
by in his Bunnymobile. He looked very fine in his polkadot handkerchief
and gold watch and chain and a great big immense diamond horseshoe pin
in his pink cravat. Oh, my, yes! Uncle John was quite a dandy. He was
the best dressed Hare in Harebridge, and why shouldn't he be when you
consider he was President of the bank and the Harum Scarum Club!
"Helloa, there, little nephew," he shouted.
"Hop in and take a ride with me,
We'll take a spin for a mile or three,
And maybe we'll come where the lollypops grow,
Pink and yellow, all in a row."
THE LITTLE FROSTY PAINTER
There's a little frosty painter
Who soon will come around
To put a silver edging on
The grasses on the ground,
Upon the window pane he'll paint
A fairy landscape, strange and quaint,
And some cold morning you'll awake
To find he's frosted Mother's cake.
Now can you guess who this little frosty painter is? Why, it's Jack
Frost, the son of King Winter.
"Ha, ha," crowed the Weathercock on the Big Red Barn. "Jack Frost is
here, for I can see the silver frost upon the grass in the Sunny
Meadow," and then that gilded rooster turned his head to the North and
blew on his gilt toes to keep them warm.
Pretty soon Old Sic'em walked out of his little dog house and shook
himself. "Bow wow," he said, "it's a chilly morning."
"Cock-a-doodle-do," said Cocky Doodle, and then Henny Penny cackled
loudly:
"I've laid an egg so white and clean
'Twould grace a breakfast for a queen.
But if a little girl should beg
The farmer for my pretty egg,
I'd tell him quick to let her go
And take my egg as white as snow."
As the little hen finished her song, she noticed Little Jack Rabbit by
the Old Rail Fence.
"Helloa, Mrs. Henny Penny," he said. "I like your song. If I see any
poor little girl I'll tell her!" and then the little rabbit hopped
away, for he just couldn't stay a moment in one place, let me tell you.
He wanted to be on the hop, skip and jump all the time, just like lots
of little boys and girls I know.
Well, by and by, after a while, he saw Old Professor Jim Crow scratching
his head with his claw.
"What's the matter?" asked the little rabbit.
"I can't make out something I've written in my little Black Book,"
answered the old black bird, and he scratched his head again and looked
dreadfully perplexed, which means worse than worried, you know.
"Let me look," said Little Jack Rabbit. And when the old blackbird had
flown down from his pine tree, the little bunny leaned over his
shoulder, and read: "Oh, oh, oh, Squirreltown!"
"Why, that's the Squirrel Brothers telephone number," he laughed. "So it
is," said Professor Jim Crow. "I'm so glad you told me! Let's call them
up!"
"'One, three, five, Chestnut Hill!'
Keep on ringing, Central, till
Some one answers, 'Hello! who
Is calling up my Bungaloo!'
"But if no one says a word;
Not a twitter from a bird,
Nor a chatter comes your way,
Call again another day."
GRANDPA POSSUM
But! gracious me! Central gave Little Jack Rabbit the wrong number, for
as he stood in the Hollow Stump Telephone Booth, with the receiver to
his ear, he heard Grandpa Possum say:
"I don't care how hard it snows,
Nor how Old Mr. North Wind blows,
For I'm as safe as safe can be
In a big warm hole in the old nut tree."
"Ha, ha!" laughed the little rabbit, hopping out of the booth, just
as Grandpa Possum poked his head out of his hollow tree house, "you
certainly look sleepy. What made you wake up?"
"What woke me?" asked the possum gentleman angrily. "Why, those good
for nothing Squirrel Brothers threw a snowball into my window." And
then Grandpa Possum shook the snow out of his left ear and looked
around to find those naughty squirrels.
All of a sudden, quicker than a wink, another snowball hit the old
hollow tree a tre-men-dous whack.
"Goodness me!" said Grandpa Possum, "if I ever catch those pesky
squirrels I'll make them wince, yes, I will, as sure as I'm twenty-one!"
And he began to grin, for Grandpa Possum is full of good nature and
never can stay angry very long.
"If you're good natured, every one
Will love you more and more,
So don't get mad, be always glad,
And lend a helping paw,"
sang Grandpa Possum, winking at Little Jack Rabbit, as Squirrel Twinkle
Tail peeked out and said:
"Excuse me, Grandpa Possum,
For throwing snow at you,
'Twould be too bad to make you mad
Or just a little blue."
And then he and his mischievous brother Featherhead ran away and didn't
bother Grandpa Possum for a long time.
"Well, I guess I'll be getting along," said the little rabbit and he
hopped away and by and by he came to the Shady Forest Pond where Busy
Beaver had his home. But of course he wasn't anywhere to be seen. No,
siree. He was in his little mud hut whose roof stuck up above the ice
and whose cellar door was way down deep where the water was free from
ice and he could swim in and out as he pleased.
So the little rabbit didn't wait, but hopped along until he came to the
edge of the forest, when he started to hop across the Sunny Meadow to
the Old Barn Yard where Henny Penny and Cocky Doodle lived all the year
'round. But just then he heard the supper bell. So, instead, he hurried
home to be in time for Aunt Jemima's angel cake.
COUSIN CHATTERBOX
Little Jack Rabbit loved the snow that covered the ground with a soft
white carpet. His feet never grew cold. No siree, they didn't. All the
little Forest Folk liked the snow, for Loving Mother Nature had given
them warm fur, and warm fur laughs at cold just as love laughs at
troubles.
Even Mrs. Grouse was happy. And if you've forgotten why, I'll tell you
again. It was because dear Mother Nature had given her a pair of
snow-shoes. Yes, indeed. The skin had grown out between her toes until
she could walk as nicely as you please over the snow. And what is more,
Loving Mother Nature had taught her to dive into a snowbank where she
could stay for the night as snug and warm as you please, when Old Mr.
North Wind blew upon his chilly horn.
Neither did Squirrel Nutcracker care that the ground was covered with
snow, and he could find no more nuts. He had a supply hidden safely away
in the old hollow chestnut tree. But he did mind having other people
take them. And when his cousin, Chatterbox, in his red fur coat, tried
to break into his storehouse, Squirrel Nutcracker was as mad as mad
could be.
"Whoever steals a nut from me
From out my storehouse in this tree,
A friend of mine shall be no more,
So let him stay outside my store."
Chatterbox grew very angry as he peeped down from the chestnut tree and
saw Little Jack Rabbit with a big smile on his face. It told the naughty
red squirrel that the little rabbit knew whom the little gray squirrel
meant.
But when Little Jack Rabbit opened his knapsack and took out a lemon
lollypop, you should have seen those two squirrels forget all about
their quarrel and scramble down the big chestnut tree. Yes, sir.
Squirrel Nutcracker forgot that Chatterbox wanted to steal his nuts, and
Chatterbox forgot that he had been caught! And now that I come to think
it over, perhaps that is the reason the little bunny laughed just before
he opened his knapsack! I guess he knew how quickly those two little
squirrels would forget everything when they saw a lemon lollypop!
"Now promise me one thing to-day,
You little squirrels, red and gray,
That you will quarrel nevermore
Nor steal a nut from any store.
For he who steals will always end
In having neither love nor friend."
Now don't you think it wonderful that the little rabbit could make up
such lovely poetry? Well, I do, but the two little squirrels thought
what he does in the next story even more wonderful.
But you must not impatient get,
If mother says, it's growing late.
Just wait until another time,
And kiss good-night your Auntie Kate.
JIMMY JAY
Now just as I finished the last story Little Jack Rabbit handed Squirrel
Nutcracker and Chatterbox each a lovely lemon lollypop. I would have
told you that before, only I had no more room, so I had to wait. But
it's a good thing the little Squirrels didn't have to wait, isn't it?
Well, after the lemon lollypops were all gone, the little bunny went
upon his way, hipperty hop, lipperty lop, until he saw Jimmy Jay on the
Old Rail Fence.
Now you know that Jimmy Jay is a very mischievous little bird. Yes, sir,
he certainly loves to tease. Grandmother Magpie is mischievous, too,
but she's no worse than little Jimmy Jay. She does harm by meddling and
Jimmy Jay by teasing.
Yes, it certainly is too bad that such a pretty bird as Jimmy Jay should
cause so much trouble. Why, his coat's as blue as the summer sky when
Mr. Merry Sun is shining at his best.
"Hip, hip, hurray,
I'm Jimmy Jay,
And I'm proud of my coat of blue.
Go on your way,
I'm Jimmy Jay,
I've no time to talk to you."
"You're too fond of yourself, Jimmy Jay," said Little Jack Rabbit, and
he wiggled his pink nose till the little Jay bird almost fell off the
rail. You see, Little Jack Rabbit had the habit of wiggling his nose so
fast that it made everybody dizzy to look at it.
"Mother says it's not the clothes
You wear that make you good;
It's having a contented mind
And doing what you should."
Then away hopped the little rabbit, leaving Jimmy Jay to think it over.
Perhaps it kept that mischievous little Jay Bird from looking at himself
in the Bubbling Brook. Or maybe it was because it was all frozen over
with a thick coat of ice.
Well, anyway, the little rabbit hopped along for maybe a mile or maybe
less, until he came to a little hole in snow, when, all of a sudden, out
popped Timmy Meadowmouse. You see in the winter time, Timmy Meadowmouse
makes little tunnels under the snow, and every once in a while, here
and there, he climbs up a stiff stalk of grass and pokes out his head to
look around. And wasn't he glad to see the little rabbit. Well, I just
guess he was. But if he had seen Danny Fox instead he wouldn't have been
so pleased. No sireemam. And in the next story, if the little
meadowmouse doesn't play hide-and-seek in the snow till that sly old fox
comes around, I'll tell you what happened after this.
THE TIP OF A TAIL
Now let us see--oh, yes, I remember now. We left off just when little
Timmy Meadowmouse poked his head up through the snow and said, "Helloa!"
"Howdy, Timmy Meadowmouse,
Through the chimney of your house
Looking o'er the meadow white,
Glancing round from left to right,
You might lose your woollen socks
If 't weren't I, but Danny Fox,"
laughed Little Jack Rabbit, kicking up his strong hind legs until a big
snowball hit Timmy Meadowmouse, knocking the hat off his head into a
snowbank.
"Look out! What are you doing," cried Timmy Meadowmouse. "That's the new
hat Mother gave me for Xmas." Pretty soon he began to laugh, too, for
he's a merry little fellow and a good friend.
"My, but it's lonely these long winter days," sighed the little bunny.
"Everybody's sound asleep in his winter home. Only you and I and a few
others are about," and the little rabbit sighed again, for what he says
is true, let me tell you.
For in the good Old Summer time
'Most everybody's round,
The feathered folk are in the trees,
The furry on the ground.
And all the sweet and verdant dells
Are ringing with the flower bells.
"Cheer up, little rabbit," said the merry little Meadowmouse, "spring
will soon be here. The buds on the trees are waiting for little Miss
South Wind to open them," and after that the little meadowmouse
disappeared into his tunnel and the little bunny hopped away, clipperty
clip, over the snow till he came to the Shady Forest. And after he had
gone in a little way, not so very far, he saw something that made his
heart go pitter, pat. And what do you suppose it was? I'll give you
three guesses and then I'll tell you. The footprints of Danny Fox. Yes,
sir! Right there in the snow were the marks of that sly old fox's feet.
Little Jack Rabbit stopped right then and there to look about him.
But Danny Fox was nowhere in sight, but that was no reason why he
might not be, at that very moment, hiding behind a tree. The little
rabbit looked again at the footprints in the snow. There they were,
but, thank goodness! They led away, far away, into the Shady Forest.
Just then, all of a sudden, the Miller's Boy jumped out from behind
a clump of bushes.
"Run! run!" screamed Jimmy Jay, who happened by just then. And
the little rabbit did. He went so fast that his shadow couldn't
keep up with him and neither could the Miller's Boy. But, oh,
dear me! The Miller's dog did. Yes, sir! He kept so close that
before he popped into the Old Bramble Patch he caught the end
of the little rabbit's tail.
OLD BARNEY OWL
Well, I'm mighty glad the little rabbit lost only the fur tip to his
tail. That was bad enough, but he forgot all about it the next morning
when the Squirrel Brothers invited him over the 'phone to meet them at
the Shady Forest Pond. He spent no time at all getting out his skates,
but his mother took two minutes and a half tying a woolen muffler around
his neck. She knew, like all wise mothers, that it's lots more fun to
skate when one is nice and warm.
When he reached the pond the Squirrel Brothers were already there,
skating merrily over the ice.
Busy Beaver in his winter home below could hear them whirring along,
cutting fancy figures in the ice, and calling merrily to one another.
After a while, when the little rabbit and the squirrel brothers had
grown tired of skating, they ran over to make a call on Old Barney Owl,
who lived in the Big Chestnut Tree on a small island, right in the
middle of the pond.
Although it was now pretty late in the afternoon, the old gentleman
owl was still asleep, and when he opened the door, his eyes winked and
blinked, and at first he didn't know them at all. In fact, he shut the
door right in their faces. I suppose he thought they had knocked just to
wake him up. Perhaps they had, for when the door closed with a bang they
all began to laugh.
[Illustration: Little Jack and The Squirrel Brothers Skated Merrily.
_Page_ 113]
By and by Featherhead knocked again, and when Old Barney Owl opened it
a second time, the naughty little squirrel said:
"Here is a nice fresh egg!"
Goodness me! When the old owl, whose eyes were still very blinky, found
out it wasn't an egg, but a snowball, he dropped it on the little
squirrel's head, and slammed the door again.
Now, if Featherhead had only gone back to his skating, all would have
been well. But he didn't. No, indeed. Instead, he knocked again, and
when the old owl opened the door, that naughty squirrel dropped a
snowball down his collar. Goodness gracious me! What a scuffle there
was all at once, and, just like that! the old owl pulled the little
squirrel into his house and closed the door.
Oh, what a scowl had Mr. Owl,
And Featherhead felt nearly dead.
He was so scared at what he'd done
He couldn't move his feet to run.
And, goodness gracious! so would I
Have felt as if I'd surely die,
If some big giant from his tree
Had through his doorway pulled poor me.
From head to toe I'd surely quake,
And feel my frightened heart would break.
But now let's turn the page to see
If ever Featherhead gets free.
"HELP! HELP!"
Little Jack Rabbit threw himself against the door as soon as it closed
on Featherhead. But Old Barney Owl had fastened the latch and it
wouldn't open. My! What a dreadful scuffling was going on inside.
"Open the door! Open the door!" shouted the little rabbit, pounding on
the wooden panels with his strong hind feet. But Old Barney Owl paid no
attention. Maybe he had all he could do to hold Featherhead.
By and by it grew very quiet and Twinkle Tail peeped in through the
keyhole, but he couldn't see anything.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Little Jack Rabbit. "Perhaps Old Barney Owl has
eaten Featherhead!" Poor Twinkle Tail's heart almost stopped beating.
Maybe it would have if he had known that the old owl had dragged his
little brother squirrel upstairs by the tail.
"Snowballs and eggs! Snowballs and eggs!" muttered Old Barney, shaking
Featherhead until his teeth rattled. "You little rascal! You thought I
couldn't tell a snowball from an egg, eh?" and he gave the little
squirrel another shake.
"Now I'm going to skin you and eat you for supper!"
Oh, dear me! How Featherhead trembled when he heard that.
Just then there came a tremendous crash downstairs, and as the old owl
looked over the railing, Twinkle Tail and Little Jack Rabbit broke in
the door.
"Help! Help!" shouted Featherhead.
"Rats and mice! Rats and mice!" cried Old Barney Owl, still keeping a
tight hold on the little squirrel's tail.
He knew there was going to be trouble, but he wasn't going to let his
supper get away from him without a fight, let me tell you. No, siree.
Old Barney Owl was too hungry for that. But he changed his mind pretty
quickly. Yes, siree. When Little Jack Rabbit let fly his hind feet,
thumpty-thump, thumpty-thump! knocking the old owl head over heels, he
changed his mind. He let go of Featherhead, and before he could change
it again there was nobody in the house except himself.
Gracious me! How the Squirrel Brothers scurried home. And the little
rabbit lost no time, either. He went to bed early and in the middle of
the night, when Old Barney Owl went "Hooty, toot!" he shivered and
pulled the bedclothes up over his head.
"Toot, toot, hoot!"
Old Barney plays his flute.
It sounds so shivery in the dark,
The firefly's tiny gleaming spark,
Goes out because the firefly
Is frightened by the old owl's cry.
PUMPKIN PLACE P. O.
"Little Jack Rabbit!" said his mother, the next morning, "run down to
the post office and see if there's a letter for me." So the little rabbit
put on his khaki cap and his little knapsack and started off, and by and
by, after a while, he came to Rabbitville, where the post office stood on
the corner of Pumpkin Place and Corn Cob Lane.
"Is there a letter for Mrs. John Rabbit, Old Bramble Patch, Rail
Fence Corner, U. S. A.?" he asked the lady postmistress, an old maid
grasshopper who worked for Uncle Sam in the winter and in the summer
played in the wheat field.
"I think there is," she said, looking in box 13, and, sure enough, there
was. Then she handed the letter to the little rabbit, and shut the door
of the little window and after that she took out her vanity bag and
powdered her nose.
The little rabbit put the letter in his knapsack and started home, but
just as he reached the Shady Forest, whom should he see but Squirrel
Nutcracker. The old gray squirrel had come out of his hollow tree for
a little run in the sun. You see, on cold days he curled himself up in
a ball and kept very quiet, but on warm days he came out and jumped
from limb to limb to get the cramps out of his leg muscles.
"Where are you going, little rabbit?" he asked, and then he took a nut
out of his pocket and cracked it with his sharp teeth without a bit of
trouble.
"I've got a letter for mother," said Little Jack Rabbit, "and I mustn't
stop to talk to any one," and he hopped along as fast as he could, for
he was afraid he might lose the letter, you see. Well, pretty soon, not
so very long, he came to the Old Bramble Patch, and after he had given
the letter to his mother he hopped out on the Sunny Meadow, and just
then, all of a sudden, Old Professor Jim Crow flew by. He had his little
Black Book under his wing, and as soon as he saw the little rabbit he
lighted on a bush and turned to page 23.
"Let me read you something," he said, putting on his spectacles, and
after he had cawed three times and a half he began:
"Little rabbits should take care
To every morning comb their hair.
They always should be clean and neat
And keep their dispositions sweet."
And then that wise old bird looked up over his spectacles and winked at
the little rabbit. "Did you comb your hair this morning?" he asked. And
wasn't it lucky that Little Jack Rabbit hadn't forgotten to? Well, I
just guess it was.
AN ICE CREAM PINE CONE
Pretty soon it began to snow and soon the Sunny Meadow was just as
white and smooth as Mrs. Rabbit's best table cloth, for the feathery
snowflakes fell so softly you could almost hear the stillness. Little
Jack Rabbit opened his knapsack and pulled out his rubber boots. Then he
put on his ear muffs and his nice warm mittens and slung his knapsack
over his back, but very carefully, for there were lots of nice things to
eat in that knapsack. Yes, siree. His kind mother always filled it up
with cakes and sweets. I guess the little rabbit knew that very morning
his dear mother had baked lettuce cakes, and how he did love lettuce
cakes. Yes, indeed he did, and so would you and so would I if we could
only get one, I'm sure.
Well, after he had hopped along a little way, he began to sing,
"Three little bunnies a-sliding went
On a winter's day,
The ice was thin, and two fell in,
And the third one ran away."
"Ha, ha!" cawed an old crow from a tree top, "that's a very fine song!"
"Well, if you think it's such a fine song, throw me down an ice cream
pine cone," said the little rabbit. But the selfish old crow wanted it
for himself, and instead threw down a snowball, which hit the little
rabbit on the tip of his tail.
The little rabbit wasn't going to stay there and have snowballs thrown
at him. No, sireemam, he wasn't. And pretty soon, not so very far, he
met Jimmy Mink creeping along by the Old Duck Pond.