IT was a bright clear night, when Toto, accompanied by the raccoon and
the squirrel, started from home to attend the wedding of the woodmouse's
eldest son. The moon was shining gloriously, and her bright cold rays
turned everything they touched to silver. The long icicles hanging from
the eaves of the cottage glittered like crystal spears; the snow
sparkled as if diamond-dust were strewn over its powdery surface. The
raccoon shook himself as he walked along, and looked about him with his
keen bright eyes.
"What a fine night this would be for a hunt!" he said, sniffing the cold
bracing air eagerly. "I smell something, surely! What is it?"
"Rats, maybe!" suggested the squirrel. "There is the track of one
yonder."
"No, this is not a rat!" said the raccoon, sniffing again. "It's a--it's
a cat! that's what it is, a cat! Do you see a track anywhere? I wonder
how a cat came here, anyhow. I should like to chase her! It is a long
time since I chased a cat."
"Oh, never mind the cat now, Coon!" cried Toto. "We are late for the
wedding as it is, with all your prinking. Besides," he added slyly, "I
didn't lend you that red cravat to chase cats in."
The raccoon instantly threw off his professional eagerness, and resumed
the air of complacent dignity with which he had begun the walk. Never
before had he been so fully impressed with the sense of his own charms.
The red ribbon which he had begged from Toto set off his dark fur and
bright eyes to perfection; and he certainly was a very handsome fellow,
as he frisked daintily along, his tail curling gracefully over his back.
"We shall make a sensation!" he said cheerfully; "we shall certainly
make a sensation. Don't you think so, Toto?"
"I do, indeed," replied Toto; "though it is a great pity that you and
Cracker didn't let me put your tails in curl-papers last night, as I
offered to do. You can't think what an improvement it would have been."
"The cow offered to lend me her bell," said Cracker, "to wear round my
neck, but it was too big, you know. She's the dearest old thing, that
cow! I had a grand game, this morning, jumping over her back and
balancing myself on her horns. Why doesn't she live in the house, with
the rest of us?"
"Oh!" said Toto, "one _couldn't_ have a cow in the house. She's too big,
in the first place; and besides, Granny would not like it. One could not
make a companion of a cow! I don't know exactly why, but that sort of
animal is entirely different from you wood-creatures."
"The difference is, my dear," said the raccoon, loftily, "that we have
been accustomed to good society, and know something of its laws; while
persons like Mrs. Cow are absolutely ignorant of such matters.
Absolutely ignorant!" he repeated, impressively. "Why, only yesterday I
went out to the barn, and being in need of a little exercise, thought I
would amuse myself by swinging on her tail. And the creature, instead of
saying, 'Mr. Coon, I am sensible of the honor you bestow upon me, but
your well-proportioned figure is perhaps heavier than you are aware of,'
or something of that sort, just kicked me off, without saying a word.
_Kicked_, Toto! I give you my word for it. Kicked _me_!"
"Humph!" said the squirrel, "I think I should have done the same in her
place. But see, here we are at the cave. Just look at the tracks in the
snow! Why, there must be a thousand persons here, at least."
Indeed, the snow was covered in every direction with the prints of
little feet,--feet that had hopped, had run, had crept from all sides of
the forest, and had met in front of this low opening, from which the
brambles and creeping vines had been carefully cleared away. Torches of
light-wood were blazing on either side, lighting up the gloomy entrance
for several feet, and from within came a confused murmur of many voices,
as of hundreds of small creatures squeaking, piping, and chattering in
every variety of tone.
"We are late!" said Coon. "Everybody is here. So much the better; we
shall make all the more sensation. Toto, is my neck-tie straight?"
"Quite straight," replied Toto. "You look like--like--"
"Like a popinjay!" muttered the squirrel, who had no neck-tie. "Come
along, will you, Coon?" And the three companions entered the cave
together.
A brilliant scene it was that presented itself before their eyes. The
cave was lighted not only by glow-worms, but by light-wood torches stuck
in every available crack and cranny of the walls. The floor was
sprinkled with fine white sand, clean and glittering, while branches of
holly and alder placed in the corners added still more to the general
air of festivity. As to the guests, they were evidently enjoying
themselves greatly, to judge from the noise they were making. There were
a great many of them,--hundreds, or perhaps even thousands, though it
was impossible to count them, as they were constantly moving, hopping,
leaping, jumping, creeping, trotting, running, even flying. Never were
so many tiny creatures seen together. There were woodmice, of course, by
the hundred,--old and young, big and little; cousins, uncles, aunts,
grandmothers, of the bride and bridegroom. There were respectable
field-mice, looking like well-to-do farmers, as indeed they were; frisky
kangaroo-mice, leaping about on their long hind-legs, to the admiration
of all those whose legs were short. There were all the moles, of both
families,--those who wore plain black velvet without any ornament, and
those who had lovely rose-colored stars at the end of their noses. These
last gentlemen were very aristocratic indeed, and the woodmice felt
highly honored by their presence. Besides all these, the squirrels had
been invited, and had come in full force, the Grays and the Reds and the
Chipmunks; and Mr. and Mrs. Titmouse were there, and old Mrs. Shrew and
her daughters, and I don't know how many more. Hundreds and hundreds of
guests, none of them bigger than a squirrel, and most of them much
smaller.
You can perhaps imagine the effect that was produced on this gay
assembly by the sudden appearance among them of a RACCOON and a BOY!
There was a confused murmur for a moment, a quick affrighted glance, and
then dead silence. Not a creature dared to move; not a tail waved, not a
whisker quivered; all the tiny creatures stood as if turned to stone,
gazing in mute terror and supplication at their formidable visitors. The
bride, who had just entered from a side-cave on her father's arm,
prepared to faint; the bridegroom threw his arms about her and glared
fiercely at the intruders, his tiny heart swelling as high as if he were
a lion instead of a very small red mouse. Mr. Woodmouse, Senior, alone
retained his presence of mind. He hastened to greet his formidable
guests, and bade them welcome in a voice which, though tremulous, tried
hard to be cordial.
"Mr. Coon," he said, "you are welcome, most welcome. Mr. Toto, your most
obedient, sir. Cracker, I am delighted to see you. Very good of you all,
I'm sure, to honor this little occasion with your distinguished
presence. Will you--ah!--hum--will you sit down?"
The little host hesitated over this invitation; it would not be polite
to ask his guests to be careful lest they should sit down _on_ the other
guests, and yet they were so _very_ large, and took up so _much_
room,--two of them, at least! Coon, delighted at the sensation he had
produced, was as gracious as possible, and sitting down with great care
so as to avoid any catastrophe, looked about him with so benign an
expression that the rest of the company began to take heart, and
whiskers were pricked and tails were cocked again.
"This is delightful, Mr. Woodmouse!" he said heartily,--"this is really
delightful! A brilliant occasion, indeed! But I do not see your son, the
happy-- Ah! there he is. Prick-ear, you rascal, come here! Are you too
proud to speak to your old friends?"
Thus adjured, the young woodmouse left his bride in her mother's care
and came forward, looking half pleased and half angry. "Good evening,
Coon!" he said. "I was not sure whether you _were_ a friend, after our
last meeting. But I am very glad to see you, and I bear no malice."
And with this he shook paws with an air of magnanimity. Coon rubbed his
nose, as he was apt to do when a little confused.
"Oh! ah! to be sure!" he said. "I had quite forgotten that little
matter. But say no more about it, my boy; say no more about it! By-gones
are by-gones, and we should think of nothing but pleasure on an occasion
like the present." With a graceful and condescending wave of his paw he
dismissed the past, and continued: "Pray, introduce me to your charming
bride! I assure you I am positively longing to make her acquaintance.
After you, my boy; after you!" and he crossed the room and joined the
bridal party.
"What trouble did your son have with Coon?" Toto inquired of Mr.
Woodmouse. "Nothing serious, I trust?"
"Why--ah!--well!" said his host, in some embarrassment, "it came _near_
being serious,--at least Prick-ear thought it did. It seems he met Mr.
Coon one day last autumn, when he was bringing home a load of
checkerberries for supper. Mr. Coon wanted the checkerberries,
and--ah!--in point of fact, ate them; and when Prick-ear remonstrated,
he chased him all round the forest, vowing that if he caught him he
would--if you will excuse my mentioning such a thing--eat _him_ too.
Now, that sort of thing is very painful, Mr. Toto; very painful indeed
it is, I assure you, sir. And though Prick-ear escaped by running into
a mole's burrow, I must confess that he has _not_ felt kindly toward Mr.
Coon since then."
"Very natural," said Toto, gravely. "I don't wonder at it."
"It _has_ occurred to me," continued the woodmouse, "that possibly it
may have been only a joke on Mr. Coon's part. Eh? what do you think?
Seeing him so friendly and condescending here to-night, one can hardly
suppose that he _really_--eh?--could have intended--"
"He certainly would not do such a thing _now_," said Toto, decidedly,
"certainly not. He has the kindest feeling for all your family."
"A--exactly! exactly!" cried the woodmouse, highly delighted. "Most
gratifying, I'm sure. But I see that the ceremony is about to begin. If
you _would_ excuse me, Mr. Toto--"
And the little host bowed himself away, leaving Toto to seat himself at
leisure and watch the proceedings. These were certainly very
interesting. The bride, an extremely pretty little mouse, was attired in
a very becoming travelling-dress of brown fur, which fitted her to
perfection. The ceremony was performed by a star-nosed mole of high
distinction, who delivered a learned and impressive discourse to the
young couple, and ended by presenting them with three leaves of
wintergreen, of which one was eaten by each separately, while they
nibbled the third together, in token of their united lives. When they
met in the middle of the leaf, they rubbed noses together, and the
ceremony was finished.
Then everybody advanced to rub noses with the bride, and to shake paws
with the happy bridegroom. One of the first to do so was the raccoon,
who comported himself with a grace and dignity which attracted the
admiration of all. The little bride was nearly frightened to death, it
is true; but she bore up bravely, for her husband whispered in her ear
that Mr. Coon was one of his dearest friends, _now_.
Meanwhile, no one was enjoying the festivity more thoroughly than our
little friend Cracker. He was whisking and frisking about from one group
to another, greeting old friends, making new acquaintances, hearing all
the wood-gossip of the winter, and telling in return of the wonderful
life that he and Bruin and Coon were leading. His own relations were
most deeply interested in all he had to tell; but while his cousins were
loud in their expressions of delight and of envy, some of the elders
shook their heads. Uncle Munkle, a sedate and portly chipmunk, looked
very grave as he heard of all the doings at the cottage, and presently
he beckoned Cracker to one side, and addressed him in a low tone.
"Cracker, my boy," he said, "I don't quite like all this, do you know?
Toto and his grandmother are all very well, though they seem to have a
barbarous way of living; but who is this Mrs. Cow, about whom you have
so much to say; not a domestic animal, I trust?"
"Why--yes!" Cracker admitted, rather reluctantly, "she _is_ a domestic
animal, Uncle; but she is a very good one, I assure you, and not
objectionable in any way."
The old chipmunk looked deeply offended. "I did not expect this of you,
Cracker!" he said severely, "I did not, indeed. This is the first time,
to my knowledge, that a member of my family has had anything to do with
a domestic animal. I am disappointed in you, sir; distinctly
disappointed!"
There was a pause, in which the delinquent Cracker found nothing to say,
and then his uncle added:--
"And in what condition are your teeth, pray? I suppose you are letting
them grow, while you eat those wretched messes of soft food. Have you
_any_ proper food, at all?"
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Cracker. "Indeed, Uncle Munkle, my teeth are in
excellent condition. Just look at them!" and he exhibited two shining
rows of teeth as sharp as those of a newly-set saw. "We have plenty of
nuts; more than I ever had before, I assure you. Toto got quantities of
them in the autumn, on purpose for me; and there are great heaps of
hazels and beech-nuts and hickories piled up in the barn-chamber, where
I can go and help myself when I please. And almonds, too!" he added.
"Oh, they are _so_ jolly!"
Uncle Munkle looked mollified; he even seemed interested.
"Almonds?" he said. "They are foreign nuts, and don't grow in this part
of the world. I tasted some once. Where did Toto get them, do you
think?"
"He bought them of a pedler," said Cracker. "I know he would give you
some, Uncle, if you asked him. Why won't you come out and see us, some
day?"
At this moment a loud and lively whistle was heard,--first three notes
of warning, and then Toto's merriest jig,--which put all serious
thoughts to flight, and set the whole company dancing. Cracker flew
across the room to a charming young red squirrel on whom he had had his
eye for some time, made his bow, and was soon showing off to her
admiring gaze the fine steps which he had learned in the kitchen at
home. The woodmice skipped and hopped merrily about; the kangaroo-mice
danced with long, graceful bounds,--three short hops after each one. It
is easy to do when you know just how. As for the moles, they ran round
and round in a circle, with their noses to the ground, and thought very
well of themselves.
Presently Toto changed his tune from a jig to a waltz; and then he and
Coon danced together, to the admiration of all beholders. Round they
went, and round and round, circling in graceful curves,--Toto never
pausing in his whistle, Coon's scarlet neck-tie waving like a banner in
the breeze.
"Yes, that is a sight worth seeing!" said a woodmouse to a mole. "It is
a pity, just for this once, that you have not eyes to see it."
"Are their coats of black velvet?" inquired the mole. "And have they
stars on their noses? Tell me that."
"No," replied the woodmouse.
"I thought as much!" said the mole, contemptuously. "Vulgar people,
probably. I have no desire to _see_ them, as you call it. Are we to
have anything to eat?" he added. "That is of more consequence, to my
mind. One can show one's skill in dancing, but that does not fill the
stomach, and mine warns me that it is empty."
At this very moment the music stopped, and the voice of the host was
heard announcing that supper was served in the side-cave. The mole
waited to hear no more, but rushed as fast as his legs would carry him,
following his unerring nose in the direction where the food lay. Bolting
into the supper-room, he ran violently against a neatly arranged pyramid
of hazel-nuts, and down it came, rattling and tumbling over the greedy
mole, and finally burying him completely. The rest of the company coming
soberly in, each gentleman with his partner, saw the heaving and quaking
mountain of nuts beneath which the mole was struggling, and he was
rescued amid much laughter and merriment.
That was a supper indeed! There were nuts of all kinds,--butternuts,
chestnuts, beech-nuts, hickories, and hazels. There were huge piles of
acorns, of several kinds,--the long slender brown-satin ones, and the
fat red-and-brown ones, with a woolly down on them. There were
partridge-berries and checkerberries, and piles of fragrant, spicy
leaves of wintergreen. And there was sassafras-bark and spruce-gum, and
a great dish of golden corn,--a present from the field-cousins. Really,
it gives one an appetite only to think of it! And I verily believe that
there never was such a nibbling, such a gnawing, such a champing and
cracking and throwing away of shells, since first the forest was a
forest. When the guests were thirsty, there was root-beer, served in
birch-bark goblets; and when one had drunk all the beer one ate the
goblet; which was very pleasant, and moreover saved some washing of
dishes. And so all were very merry, and the star-nosed moles ate so much
that their stars turned purple, and they had to be led home by their
fieldmouse neighbors.
At the close of the feast, the bride and groom departed for their own
home, which was charmingly fitted up under an elder-bush, from the
berries of which they could make their own wine. "Such a convenience!"
said all the family. And finally, after a last wild dance, the company
separated, the lights were put out, and "the event of the season" was
over.