being a world, and how, a long time ago, my folks used to live there,
and all slid off one day, when the moon tipped up on its edge, and they
were not holding on."
Mr. 'Possum said that he remembered quite well, and that Mr. Rabbit's
story had seemed to explain everything--at the time. Of course, he said,
an explanation couldn't be expected to last forever, and if Mr. Rabbit
would like to make a new one, that would be even better, they would be
glad to hear it, because Mr. Rabbit's stories were always interesting,
even when doubtful, and besides--
Mr. Rabbit didn't wait for Mr. 'Possum to get done. He said it was one
of those conversations that could be finished any time and didn't need
any audience. "Perhaps Mr. 'Possum wouldn't mind waiting," he said,
until the others had told their stories and gone home. Then he went
right on to tell _his_ story, like this:
"The sky is also a world--as big a world as this is, with a wide,
rounding floor that looks blue in the daytime and nearly black at night,
when the sun is gone. The sky country is really kind of an up-stairs
world, and the stars are small windows, or peep-holes, in the big, blue
floor, for the people up there to look down through when they want to
see what is going on below. Those little windows are always there, day
and night, though you can't see them in the daytime, because then the
sun is shining here and not up there. In the evening, when it quits
shining here, it goes up there, and then, of course, all the star
windows are lit up, just like a window in the Hollow Tree at night. I
will tell you a story of the sky country and its star windows, which
explains everything. It has come down in our family ever since my folks
lived in the moon, which was a great many great-grandfathers back, and
is true, accordingly."
"The moon, where we used to live, is a pretty small world, compared with
the sky world--being about like a pea compared with a bread-bowl--and
our people used to have such big families that if they hadn't found some
place for them to go they would have got so thick that the moon wouldn't
have begun to hold them.
"Well, the moon is pretty close to the sky--not as close as you would
think to look at it, for it seems right against it; it is really about a
mile off--a mile and ten feet, exactly, I believe, or at least that was
the length of my eighty-second great-grandfather's ladder, though, of
course, that had to slant some. My grandparent built that ladder when
our folks got together and decided that we were getting too thick and
something must be done about it. My ancestor said the sky was just the
thing. He had never been there, but he had a beautiful imagination, and
he told them all about the lovely rivers and meadows and fields of
clover they would find there, and said he would invent a way to get
there for all who wanted to go.
[Illustration: TOLD WHAT A GRAND PLACE THE SKY WAS]
"Everybody that heard my ancestor went home and told what a grand place
the sky was, and made it even better than he had said; and some went
around getting other crowds together and telling them about it, and went
on improving the scenery until nobody had ever dreamed before of such a
wonderful place as that sky-country, and it looked as if all the people
in the moon were just waiting to climb Grandpaw's ladder as soon as it
was done.
"It took my ancestor a good while to make it. The first time he got it
done it was too short. When he sent out bids to the raising, and a lot
of the neighbors came over to help, and ever so many folks were there
with their things, ready to go up, they found it wouldn't touch by a
good deal, and Grandpaw had to splice on about a quarter of a mile
more. Then they had another raising, and when they got the ladder up and
well propped, Grandpaw went up first to saw out a door to get in by.
"Now Grandpaw was smart. He knew that there are a lot of people never
satisfied with anything, and who always want to come back, no matter how
fine the place is. So he sawed out a little double trap, opening in the
center, just big enough for single file, and put on strong spring hinges
that open only one way--the way in, of course--with no handholds on the
above side. Then he took a little look inside himself, and came back
down the ladder, and the procession started.
[Illustration: THEY PILED UP THAT LADDER IN A STEADY STREAM]
"No such a collection of our family was ever seen before or since.
Everybody in the moon had heard about that wonderful new country where
there was lots of room and everything free, and they wanted to see it.
They piled up that ladder in a steady stream for nearly a month before
the line began to thin out, and it was a great help to the space on the
moon. Of course none of them could come back to tell how it was there,
or draw back once he got started through Grandpaw's spring-closing,
one-way door. One long, thin rabbit called Snoop, who was always trying
to see everything in advance, tried to jerk back after he got his head
through, but Grandpaw's door caught him just back of the ears, and he
decided to go on in. I don't know what my eighty-second
great-grandfather saw when he took that first look. He didn't say.
Grandpaw didn't join the sky procession himself, because he said he had
to keep his ladder in repair. I forgot to say that he charged for each
one that went up, and prospered a good deal, at first. When the crowd
thinned out he sent several different ones around to explain what a
grand place the sky was, and all about his ladder. My ancestor was a
great hand to keep things moving.
[Illustration: GRANDPAW WENT ABOUT TWO-THIRDS OF THE WAY UP HIS LADDER,
TO SEE]
"Well, by and by our folks who had stayed on the moon began to notice
bright lights in the sky at night, and wondered what they were, and one
night when business wasn't very good Grandpaw went about two-thirds of
the way up his ladder to see. When he came back he said that those were
windows of various sizes which the sky settlers were cutting through the
floor so they could see what was going on back home. At first there were
only a few scattering holes, but every night there were a lot more,
until it looked as if those people up there put in all their time
looking down at the place where they came from. Our folks used to listen
to see if they wouldn't call down something about how they liked it, but
nothing of that kind ever happened. Perhaps it was too far, or maybe
they had made some law about it. Anyway, all that my people ever knew
about those travelers was the windows they kept cutting, and those got
so thick, by and by, that my ancestor was worried for fear the floor
would get weak and the sky-world fall to pieces and spoil his income. So
he sent up word by some who were going that if that window-cutting
didn't stop he would take down his ladder and not let any more of their
friends come. Very likely that scared them, for though the sky floor
must have got pretty weak, it didn't come through and you see it is
there, with all the windows, that we call stars, in it yet. The ladder
built by my eighty-second great-grandfather remained in our family and
was still working up to the time the moon tipped and spilt all that was
left down here, just as I told you before. I never heard what became of
it after that.
"As for those windows, I suppose they are still in use, as those
sky-people would want to see what became of us. Those holes look pretty
small, of course, from here, being so far away, and people got to
calling them stars because they look like stars at this distance, though
most of them would be round or square, I judge, if you could see them
close. Some of them must have shutters, for sometimes there seem to be a
great many more than others, especially on a very clear night, when I
suppose those people up there have them all open. They are so thick then
that I don't wonder my ancestor grew worried about the floor. I found a
leaf, once, from one of Mr. Man's poetry books, and it said on it,
The night has a thousand eyes
and I suppose that meant the stars, but it must have been written a long
time ago, for there are a good many more than a thousand now; and
there's a verse in our family which says,
A million windows in the sky
Watch the nights and days go by.
"Which proves they have been there a long time and that they are really
windows, and useful, and not mere ornaments, though they are certainly
very pretty to look at, especially on a night like this and in such good
company."
Then Mr. 'Possum said that he thought Mr. Rabbit's story was a very good
one and explained the stars fully as well, in some ways, as Mr. 'Coon's
story, though it was less exciting. He said he was sorry there was no
story in his family to tell what the stars were, and asked Mr. Crow if
there was anything of the kind in his family.
Mr. Crow said that there was a story, but that it wasn't exactly in his
_family_--it was in _him_. Both Mr. 'Coon's and Mr. Rabbit's
stories had been very good, he said, and no doubt true enough as far as
they went, but that his story went farther, a good deal farther,
especially in the direction of personal experience, even than Mr.
'Coon's. It had all been quite sad at the time, and he had never told it
before to any one, but if they cared to hear it he would tell it now.
Then the 'Coon and the 'Possum and Mr. Jack Rabbit said they would be
glad to hear a story from Mr. Crow, especially to-night; and Mr. Crow
said he must think a little to get the beginning straight, which he did,
and was ready presently to start.
MR. CROW'S STAR STORY
MR. CROW GIVES HIS ACCOUNT OF
HOW THE STARS WERE MADE
This is the story that Mr. Crow told on the night that he and Mr. 'Coon
and Jack Rabbit and Mr. 'Possum sat on the edge of the world and hung
their feet over the Big Nowhere and looked at the stars.
"Well," said Mr. Crow, "I can tell you something about the stars that
may surprise you. I made the stars myself--not all of them, of course,
but a good many of them. No doubt a number of them were made in the way
Jack Rabbit has explained, and others in the way that Mr. 'Coon saw
himself, and told us about, but most of the bright stars, and where
there are a number together, I can account for, because I made them
myself, as I said--though I did not enjoy it. They came out of my
head--that is, they were knocked out--not all at once, but at different
times. I did not make them alone--I had help--my wife helped me; also my
mother-in-law, who was visiting us. It was this way:
"I was quite young when I married and I did not pick out the right
person for a peaceful home. Minerva, which was her name, had never been
brought up to do anything but go about with her mother and get up
meetings on one thing and another and talk to them as long as they would
stand it, and then go home and talk to Minerva's father, who was not
very strong, and passed away at one such time. It was my turn after
that. I came along just in time to take his place.
[Illustration: I ASKED MINERVA TO TELL ME IN A FEW SIMPLE WORDS WHAT SHE
HAD BEEN TALKING ABOUT AT THE MEETING]
"It was nice enough at first. I thought how smart Mother Crow and
Minerva were, and was proud when I saw them get up those big meetings.
You never saw such meetings as those were. I've seen the trees in every
direction black with our family, listening to Minerva and her mother
talk. I don't know what they said--I never could seem to get the run of
it, and, besides, I had to slip home early and get the supper, so I
never got to hear their closing remarks, which might have explained
things. Once when I asked Minerva to tell me in a few simple words what
she had been talking about at the meeting, it seemed to fret her, and
she said I seemed to understand private cooking better than public
questions, and had better stick to it; which I did, after that, and I
didn't go to the meetings at all. Minerva was not a cook herself, though
her mother had been before she took to society work, and she told me
some very good recipes.
"It was trying to learn those recipes that started my work in the
star-making line. She gave me a recipe for chicken-pie one morning
before she and Minerva started out, and the last thing she said, just
before she left, was that it was only to have one crust. I had never
made a pie that way. I always used two crusts--one above and one below,
so when it came to that part this time, I put a lower crust in the pan,
and then the chicken, and baked it just so, though I thought it would
look much better with a top crust. When Mrs. Crow and Minerva came home,
they were cross, and fussing a good deal at each other, because, for
some reason, the meeting hadn't gone well, and when they came in and
Mother Crow saw the open pie on the table, she asked me what I meant by
making such a looking thing as that. I told her I had put on only one
crust, according to her orders, and I thought, myself, a top crust would
make it look better.
[Illustration: SHE JUST WHEELED AND GAVE ME A CLIP]
"Well, she didn't say another word. She just wheeled and gave me a clip
on the left ear, and right then I saw three stars, just as plain as
anything, fly out of my head and start for the sky. I don't know which
ones they are, but they would be as big as any up there. When I got my
balance I said that I could see that a pie made in that way was a
mistake, though it would improve the looks of the sky; and Minerva and
her mother both said I had gone crazy, and I had to dodge in two
directions to keep from adding several more stars that same evening.
"I made plenty of them after that. They kept me busy at it. Something
had gone wrong with their meetings, and they took it out on me. From
what they said to each other I judged that some other ladies were
holding still bigger meetings; also that those ladies were a disgrace,
and that something ought to be done to them. Then all the things they
thought about doing to those rival creatures they did to me, and I was
in the star business most of the time. I made big ones and I made little
ones, according to how mad my folks were and the aim they took. Also
groups of stars: Once Minerva cracked me with the soup-ladle, and I made
the dipper. I knew they were real stars, because every clear night when
I went out for a little peace I could see new ones, and I could
recognize which were mine.
"I don't know how many stars I made, nor what they all were now, but if
I had kept on the sky would be running over by this time. I suppose I
should have gone on, too, if something hadn't happened to Minerva. One
day she went with her mother to attend one of those meetings which those
creatures were holding over in the Burnt Deadening where there was a lot
of bare, dead trees, and Minerva and Mother Crow tried to break it up.
[Illustration: I DIDN'T RECOGNIZE MY MOTHER-IN-LAW]
"I didn't recognize my mother-in-law when she came home. She could only
see a little out of one eye and there wasn't a whole feather on her.
Minerva didn't come at all. Her funeral was next day, and then, of
course, I was a widower, though not yet entirely out of the star
business.
"Mrs. Crow gave up public life and started a boarding-house, as you may
still remember, and I was with her a good while, and almost every day
added a few stars to the firmament, as Mr. Dog calls it. Once she flung
the milk-pitcher at my head, and when it hit and broke, it seemed to add
some to the Milky Way. Several of those fancy designs up there I can
remember making. They are all pretty enough to look at now, but I did
not enjoy them much when I first saw them. I don't care to make any
more, and, besides, there are plenty already. Sometimes I seem to see a
few new ones up there, and it makes me think that somebody else has gone
into the business of making them, the same way I did. I hope not, for
though it may be the best and quickest way, it is not the one I should
ever pick for myself again."
[Illustration: EVERYBODY LOOKED UP AT THE TWINKLING SKY]
Mr. Crow sighed and lit his pipe, and everybody looked up at the
twinkling sky. And Mr. 'Possum said he could understand now why there
were several different kinds of stars. They had been made in different
ways. Mr. 'Coon had seen Mr. Man working at one or two kinds; Mr.
Rabbit's people had made another kind; and Mr. Crow had, perhaps, made
several kinds. He said he had never heard anything so interesting in his
life, or so reasonable.
MR. JACK RABBIT BRINGS A FRIEND
I
A NEW ARRIVAL IN THE BIG
DEEP WOODS TELLS A STORY
Once upon a time Mr. Jack Rabbit gave the Hollow Tree people a real
surprise. It was a pleasant spring evening, and the 'Coon and 'Possum
and the Old Black Crow were sitting outside after supper, and somebody
had just remarked that it was a good while since they had seen Jack
Rabbit, when Mr. Rabbit himself happened along and, for the first time
they could remember, brought somebody with him. Then everybody jumped
up, of course, to say, "Good evening," and Jack Rabbit said:
[Illustration: I HAVE NEVER HEARD ANYTHING SO WONDERFUL AS THE WAY SHE
TELLS IT]
"This is a new friend I have made--possibly a distant relative, as we
seem to belong to about the same family, though, of course, it doesn't
really make any difference. Her name is Myrtle--Miss Myrtle Meadows--and
she has had a most exciting, and very strange, and really quite awful
adventure. I have brought her over because I know you will all be glad
to hear about it. I have never heard anything so wonderful as the way
she tells it."
Mr. Rabbit looked at Miss Meadows, and Miss Meadows tried to look at
Jack Rabbit, but was quite shy and modest at being praised before
everybody in that way. Then Mr. 'Coon brought her a nice little low
chair, and she sat down, and they all asked her to tell about her great
adventure, because they said they were tired of hearing their own old
stories told over and over, and nearly always in the same way, though
Mr. 'Possum could change his some when he tried. So then Miss Myrtle
began to tell her story, but kept looking down at her lap at first,
being so bashful among such perfect strangers as the Hollow Tree people
were to her at that time.
"Well," she said, "I wasn't born in the Big Deep Woods, nor in any woods
at all, but in a house with a great many more of our family, a long way
from here, and owned by a Mr. Man who raised us to sell."
When Miss Myrtle said that the 'Coon and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow
took their pipes out of their mouths and looked at her with very deep
interest. They had once heard from Mr. Dog about menageries,[7] where
Deep Woods people and others were kept for Mr. Man and his friends to
look at, but they had never heard of a place where any of their folks
were raised to sell. Mr. 'Possum was just going to ask a
question--probably as to how they were fed--when Mr. Rabbit said, "'Sh!"
and Miss Meadows went on:
"It was quite a nice place, and we were pretty thick in the little
house, which was a good deal like a cage, with strong wires in front,
though it had doors, too, to shut us in when it rained or was cold. Mr.
Man, or some of his family, used to bring us fresh grass and clover and
vegetables to eat, every day, and sometimes would open a door and let us
out for a short time on the green lawn. We never went far, or thought of
running away, but ran in, pretty soon, and cuddled down, sometimes
almost in a pile, we were so thick; and we were all very happy indeed.
"But one day Mr. Man came to our house and opened the door and reached
in and lifted several of us out--about twenty or so, I should think--one
after another, by the ears--and put us into a flat box with slats across
the top, and said, 'Now you little chaps are going to have a trip and
see something.' I didn't know what he meant, but I can see now, that he
didn't mean nearly so much as happened--not in _my_ case. A number of my
brothers and sisters were in the box with me, and though we were quite
frightened, we were excited, too, for we wondered where we were going,
and what wonderful things we should see."
[Illustration: MISS MYRTLE PAUSED AND WIPED HER EYES]
Miss Myrtle paused and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief that looked
very much like one of Jack Rabbit's; then she said:
"I suppose I shall never know what became of all the others of our poor
little broken family, and I know they are wondering what became of me,
but of course there is no way to find out now, and Mr. Jack Rabbit says
I must try to forget and be happy.
"Well, Mr. Man put the box into a wagon and we rode and rode, and were
so frightened, for we had never done such a thing before, and by and by
we came to a very big town--a place with ever so many houses and all the
Mr. Mans and their families in the world, I should think, and so much
noise that we all lay flat and tried to bury our heads, to keep from
being made deaf. By and by Mr. Man stopped and took our box from the
wagon, and another Mr. Man stepped out of a place that I learned later
was a kind of store where they sell things, and the new Mr. Man took our
box and set it in front of his store, and put a card on it with some
words that said, 'For Sale,' and threw us in some green stuff to eat,
and there we were, among ever so many things that we had never seen
before.
"Well, it was not very long until a tall Mr. Man and his little boy
stopped and looked at us, and Mr. Store Man came out and lifted up the
cover of our box and held us up, one after the other, by the ears, until
he came to Tip, one of my brothers who wasn't very smart, but was quite
good-looking and had a tuft of white on his ears which made him have
that name. Mr. Man's boy said he would take Tip, and Tip giggled and was
so pleased because he had been picked first. Mr. Store Man put him in a
big paper bag, and that was the last we saw of Tip. I hope he did not
have the awful experience I had, though, of course, everything is all
right now," and Miss Myrtle looked at Jack Rabbit, who looked at Miss
Myrtle and said that no harm should come to her ever again.
"Smut was next to go--a nice little chap with a blackish nose. A little
girl of Mr. Man's bought him, and it was another little girl that bought
me. She looked at all of us a good while, and pretty soon she happened
to see that I was looking at her, and she said she could see in my eyes
that I was asking her to take me, which was so, and pretty soon I was in
a bag, too, and when the little girl opened the bag I was in her
house--a very fine place, with a number of wonderful things in it
besides her family, and plenty to eat--much more than I wanted, though I
had a good appetite, being young.
"I was very lonesome, though, for there were none of the Rabbit family
there, and I had nobody to talk to, or cuddle up to at night. I had a
little house all to myself, but often through the day my little girl
would hold me and stroke my fur, trying as hard as she could to make me
happy and enjoy her society.
"I really did enjoy it, too, sometimes, when she did not squeeze me too
hard, which she couldn't help, she was so fond of me. When I would sit
up straight and wash my face, as I did every morning, she would call
everybody to see me, and said I was the dearest thing in the world."
When Miss Meadows said that Jack Rabbit looked at her with his head
tipped a little to one side, as if he were trying to decide whether Mr.
Man's little girl had been right or not. Then he looked at the Hollow
Tree people and said:
"H'm! H'm! Very nice little girl" (meaning Mr. Man's, of course), "and
very smart, too."
"I got used to being without my own folks," Miss Meadows went on, "but I
did not forget the nice green grass of the country, and always wanted to
go back to it. If I had known what was going to happen to me in the
country I should not have been so anxious to get there.
"I had been living with that little girl and her family about a month, I
suppose, when one day she came running to my house and took me out, and
said:
"'Oh, Brownie'--that was her name for me--'we are going to the country,
Brownie dear, where you can run and play on the green grass, and eat
fresh clover, and have the best time.'
"Well, of course I was delighted, and we did go to the country, but I
did not have the best time--at least, not for long.