IN DEFENSE OF A LADY
“That poor First Skunk!” exclaimed Nibble Rabbit. “Mother Nature was
mean to give him everything he asked for just the opposite to the way he
wanted it. I’d have gone right off and been just as bad as ever I knew
how to be.”
“Eh, Stripes Skunk?” asked Doctor Muskrat, “is that how you feel about
it?”
“N-n-no,” Stripes answered slowly. “Being good is something even Mother
Nature couldn’t give the First Skunk; he’d have to get it for himself.
For the other things, I like being just the way we are. When I had to
climb the tree to help Bob White Quail I’d have liked the handy-paws the
First Skunk wanted. But that’s just because I’ve never practised
climbing, like my little cousin Spotty. And handy-paws are no earthly
good to dig with--you just ought to see these paddy-paws of mine make
the dirt fly. But paddy-paws behind, where he wanted them, wouldn’t be
half as nice as these good firm footy soles I stand on.
“I wouldn’t even give up my hairy tail. It’s heavy, but no one can bite
it, and it’s wonderful to sleep in.” He whisked it into a billowy rug
about his toes; then he finished contentedly, “I don’t mind Mother
Nature making us so we can’t chase other folks, seeing that she gave us
our scent so we’re not always being chased. She was perfectly fair.”
“Fair!” You ought to have seen Nibble turn his sniffy nose up at this.
“She played you a horrid kind of a joke.”
“Not at all!” answered Stripes--and he was really quite indignant. “We
don’t have to be unpleasant. Anyway, it’s better than fighting, and I
notice even you bunnies don’t like to be eaten. Only nobody but Doctor
Muskrat seems to understand.”
“Furry-foot,” chuckled that wise old beast, “Mother Nature played that
joke on a lot of other fellows besides the skunk. We were all of us
asking for scents, and she simply couldn’t understand it. She thought if
she gave the First Skunk that one, the rest of us wouldn’t want them.”
“Why did you?” Nibble wanted to know. “We didn’t.”
“You didn’t, didn’t you?” Doctor Muskrat’s little eyes twinkled. “Why do
you run around the Pickery Things each evening and give a stamp at every
tunnel?”
“So if any other rabbit comes he’ll know that the place belongs to me.”
“How will he know?” asked the doctor. “He mightn’t see you or hear
you----”
“He’d smell me, of course!” Nibble’s eyes were big and round.
“He would. Now do you see why nearly every one wanted some way of
leaving messages for other Woodsfolk while he went off to hide or feed?
You don’t dare make a noise; you can’t wait too long for fear someone
will see you; so you leave that little smelly mark that stays and stays
long after the warm smell of your body is blown away so you can’t be
followed. But you’re so used to it you never think about it.”
“Oh-h-h!” said Nibble. “I hadn’t thought of that. I guess I’m beginning
to understand.”
“I hope so,” sniffed the doctor. “Of course nobody’ll ever be wise
enough to know just how generous Mother Nature’s been. But remember, you
never nibble a clover leaf that you haven’t her to thank for it.”
Clover leaf! the bunny’s twitchy nose began to sniff for one. Stripes
Skunk cocked up one ear and looked at the Doctor with a little twinkle
in his eye. “I s’pose we can thank her for snails,” said he.
“’Cause----” Schloop! he licked a juicy one off the under side of a dock
leaf, “’cause at least (crunch! crunch!) we can run fast--enough--to
catch ’em.”
THE END