[Illustration: GATHERING NICE PIECES OF WOOD]
IN WHICH THE READER LEARNS TO KNOW THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE AND THEIR
FRIENDS, AND THE LITTLE LADY, AND THE STORY TELLER
NOW this is the beginning of the Hollow Tree stories which the Story
Teller told the Little Lady in the queer old house which stands in the
very borders of the Big Deep Woods itself. They were told in the Room of
the Lowest Ceiling and the Widest Fire--a ceiling so low that when the
Story Teller stands upright it brushes his hair as he walks, and a fire
so deep that pieces of large trees do not need to be split but can be
put on whole. In the old days, several great-grandfathers back, as the
Hollow Tree People might say, these heavy sticks were drawn in by a
horse that came right through the door and dragged the wood to the wide
stone hearth.
It is at the end of New-Year's Day, and the Little Lady has been
enjoying her holidays, for Santa Claus found his way down the big stone
chimney and left a number of things she wanted. Now, when the night is
coming down outside, and when inside there is a heap of blazing logs and
a rocking-chair, it is time for the Story Teller. The Story Teller
generally smokes and looks into the fire when he tells a Hollow Tree
story, because the Hollow Tree People always smoke and look into the
fire when _they_ tell _their_ stories, and the Little Lady likes
everything to be "just the same," and the stories must be always told
just the same, too. If they are not, she stops the Story Teller and sets
him right. So while the Little Woman passes to and fro, putting away the
tea-things, the Story Teller lights his pipe, and rocks, and looks into
the fire, and holds the Little Lady close, and begins the Tales of the
Hollow Tree.
"Once upon a time," he begins--
"Once upon a time," murmurs the Little Lady, settling herself.
"Yes, once upon a time, in the old days of the Hollow Tree, when Mr. Dog
had become friends with the 'Coon and the 'Possum and the Old Black Crow
who lived in the three hollow branches of the Big Hollow Tree, and used
to meet together in their parlor-room down-stairs and invite all their
friends, and have good times together, just like folk--"
"But they live there now, don't they?" interrupts the Little Lady,
suddenly sitting up, "and still have their friends, just the same?"
"Oh yes, of course, but this was one of the old times, you know."
The Little Lady settles back, satisfied.
"Go on telling, now," she says.
"Well, then, this was one of the times when all the Deep Woods People
had been invited to the Hollow Tree for Christmas Day, and were snowed
in. Of course they didn't expect to be snowed in. Nobody ever expects to
be snowed in till it happens, and then it's too late."
"Was that the Christmas that Mr. Dog played Santa Claus and brought all
the presents, and Mr. Squirrel and Mr. Robin and Mr. Turtle and Jack
Rabbit came over, and they all sat around the fire and ate things and
told nice stories? You said you would tell about that, and you never
did."
"I am going to tell it now, as soon as a Little Lady gets real still,"
says the Story Teller. So then the Little Lady _is_ "real still," and he
tells the first snowed-in story, which is called: