Oh, there was an old raven as black as could be,
And a wonderful sort of a raven was he;
For his house he kept tidy, his yard he kept neat,
And he cooked the most marvellous dainties to eat.
He could roast, he could toast, he could bake, he could fry,
He could stir up a cake in the wink of an eye,
He could boil, he could broil, he could grill, he could stew--
Oh, there wasn't a thing that this bird couldn't do.
He would smoke in the sun when the mornings were fair,
And his plans for new puddings and pies would prepare;
But, alas! like the famous Jim Crow with his shelf,
He was greedy, and ate all his dainties himself.
[Illustration: HE WOULD SMOKE IN THE SUN WHEN THE MORNINGS WERE FAIR]
It was true he was proud of the things he could cook,
And would call in his neighbors sometimes for a look,
Or a taste, it may be, when his pastry was fine;
But he'd never been known to invite them to dine.
With a look and a sigh they could stand and behold
All the puddings so brown and the sauces of gold;
With a taste and a growl they'd reluctantly go
Praying vengeance to fall on that greedy old crow.
[Illustration: WITH A LOOK AND A SIGH THEY WOULD STAND AND BEHOLD]
Now, one morning near Christmas when holly grows green,
And the best of good things in the markets are seen,
He went out for a smoke in the crisp morning air,
And to think of some holiday dish to prepare.
Mr. Rabbit had spices to sell at his store,
Mr. Reynard had tender young chicks by the score,
And the old raven thought, as he stood there alone,
Of the tastiest pastry that ever was known.
Then away to the market he hurried full soon,
Dropping in for a chat with the 'possum and 'coon
Just to tell them his plans, which they heard with delight,
And to ask them to call for a moment that night
[Illustration: THE TASTIEST PASTRY THAT EVER WAS KNOWN]
For a look and a taste of his pastry so fine,
And he hinted he might even ask them to dine.
Then he hurried away, and the rest of the day
Messrs. 'Possum and 'Coon were expectant and gay.
Oh, he hurried away and to market he went,
And his money for spices and poultry he spent,
While behind in the market were many, he knew,
Who would talk of the marvellous things he would do;
So with joy in his heart and with twinkling eye
He returned to his home his new project to try,
Then to stir and to bake he began right away,
And his dish was complete at the end of the day.
[Illustration: THEN TO STIR AND TO BAKE HE BEGAN RIGHT AWAY]
Aye, the marvel was done--'twas a rich golden hue,
And its smell was delicious--the old raven knew
That he never had made such a pastry before,
And a look of deep trouble his countenance wore;
"For," thought he, "I am certain the 'possum and 'coon
That I talked with to-day will be coming here soon,
And expect me to ask them to dine, when, you see,
There is just a good feast in this dainty for me."
Now, behold, he'd scarce uttered his thoughts when he heard
At the casement a tapping--this greedy old bird--
And the latch was uplifted, and gayly strode in
Both the 'coon and the 'possum with faces agrin.
They were barbered and brushed and arrayed in their best,
In the holiday fashion their figures were dressed,
While a look in each face, to the raven at least,
Said, "We've come here to-night, sir, prepared for a feast."
And the raven he smiled as he said, "Howdy-do?"
For he'd thought of a plan to get rid of the two;
And quoth he, "My dear friends, I am sorry to say
That the wonderful pastry I mentioned to-day
When it came to be baked was a failure complete,
Disappointing to taste and disturbing to eat.
I am sorry, dear friends, for I thought 'twould be fine;
I am sorry I cannot invite you to dine."
And the 'coon and the 'possum were both sorry, too,
And suspicious, somewhat, for the raven they knew.
They declared 'twas too bad all that pudding to waste,
And they begged him to give them at least just a taste,
But he firmly refused and at last they departed,
While the greedy old crow for the dining-room started,
And the pie so delicious he piled on his plate,
And he ate, and he ate, and he ate, and he ate!
[Illustration: THE GREEDY OLD RAVEN, BUT GREEDY NO MORE]
Well, next morn when the 'possum and 'coon passed along
They could see at the raven's that something was wrong,
For no blue curling smoke from the chimney-top came;
So they opened his door and they called out his name,
And they entered inside, and behold! on the floor
Was the greedy old raven, but greedy no more:
For his heart it was still--not a flutter was there--
And his toes were turned up and the table was bare;
Now his epitaph tells to the whole country-side
How he ate, and he ate, and he ate till he died.
When Mr. Crow finished, Mr. Rabbit said it was certainly an interesting
poem, and if he just had a chance now to eat till he died he'd take it,
and Mr. 'Coon said he'd give anything to know how that pie had tasted,
and he didn't see how any _one_ pie could be big enough to kill anybody
that felt as hungry as _he_ did now. And Mr. 'Possum didn't say much of
anything, but only seemed drowsy and peaceful-like, which was curious
for _him_ as things were.
Well, all that day, and the next day, and the next, there wasn't
anything to eat, and they sat as close as they could around the little
fire and wished they'd saved some of the big logs and some of the food,
too, that they had used up so fast when they thought the big snow would
go away. And the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf got louder and louder, and he
began to gnaw, too, and they all heard it, day and night--all except Mr.
'Possum, who said he didn't know why, but that for some reason he
couldn't hear a sound like that at all, which was _very_ strange,
indeed.
But there was something else about Mr. 'Possum that was strange. He
didn't get any thinner. All the others began to show the change right
away, but Mr. 'Possum still looked the same, and still kept cheerful,
and stepped around as lively as ever, and that was _very strange_.
By-and-by, when Mr. 'Possum had gone down-stairs for some barrel staves
to burn, for the wood was all gone, Mr. Rabbit spoke of it, and said he
couldn't understand it; and then Mr. 'Coon, who had been thinking about
it too, said he wondered why it sometimes took Mr. 'Possum so long to
get a little bit of wood. Then they all remembered how Mr. 'Possum had
stayed so long down-stairs whenever he went, even before Old Hungry-Wolf
came to the Hollow Tree, and they couldn't understand it _at all_.
And just then Mr. 'Possum came up with two little barrel staves which he
had been a long time getting, and they all turned and looked at him very
closely, which was a thing they had never done until that time. And
before Mr. 'Possum noticed it, they saw him chew--a kind of last,
finishing chew--and then give a little swallow--a sort of last,
finishing swallow--and just then he noticed them watching him, and he
stopped right in his tracks and dropped the two little barrel staves and
looked very scared and guilty, which was strange, when he had always
been so willing about the wood.
Then they all got up out of their chairs and looked straight at Mr.
'Possum, and said:
"What was that you were chewing just now?"
And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
[Illustration: LOOKED STRAIGHT AT MR. 'POSSUM AND SAID, "WHAT WAS THAT
YOU WERE CHEWING JUST NOW?"]
Then they all said:
"What was that you were swallowing just now?"
And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"Why do you always stay so long when you go for wood?"
And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"Why is it that you don't get thin, like the rest of us?"
And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"Why is it you never hear the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf?"
And Mr. 'Possum said, very weakly:
"I did think I heard it a little while ago."
Then they all said:
"And was that why you went down after wood?"
And once more Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"What have you got _down there_ to eat? And _where_ do you keep it?"
Then Mr. 'Possum seemed to think of something, and picked up the two
little barrel staves and brought them over to the fire and put them on,
and looked very friendly, and sat down and lit his pipe and smoked a
minute, and said that climbing the stairs had overcome him a little, and
that he wasn't feeling very well, but if they'd let him breathe a
minute he'd tell them all about it, and how he had been preparing a nice
surprise for them, for just such a time as this; but when he saw they
had found out something, it all came on him so sudden that, what with
climbing the stairs and all, he couldn't quite gather himself, but that
he was all right now, and the surprise was ready.
"Of course you know," Mr. 'Possum said, "that I have travelled a good
deal, and have seen a good many kinds of things happen, and know about
what to expect. And when I saw how fast we were using up the food, and
how deep the snow was, I knew we might expect a famine that even Mr.
Crow's johnny-cake and gravy wouldn't last through; and Mr. Crow
mentioned something of the kind once himself, though he seemed to forget
it right away again, for he went on giving us just as much as ever. But
I didn't forget about it, and right away I began laying aside in a quiet
place some of the things that would keep pretty well, and that we would
be glad to have when Old Hungry-Wolf should really come along and we had
learned to live on lighter meals and could make things last."
Mr. 'Possum was going right on, but Mr. 'Coon interrupted him, and said
that Mr. 'Possum could call it living on lighter meals if he wanted to
but that he hadn't eaten any meal at all for three days, and that if Mr.
'Possum had put away anything for a hungry time he wished he'd get it
out right now, without any more explaining, for it was food that he
wanted and not explanations, and all the others said so too.
Then Mr. 'Possum said he was just coming to that, but he only wished to
say a few words about it because they had seemed to think that he was
doing something that he shouldn't, when he was really trying to save
them from Old Hungry-Wolf, and he said he had kept his surprise as long
as he could, so it would last longer, and that he had been pretending
not to hear Old Hungry's bark just to keep their spirits up, and he
supposed one of the reasons why he hadn't got any thinner was because he
hadn't been so worried, and had kept happy in the nice surprise he had
all the time, just saving it for when they would begin to need it most.
As to what he had been chewing and swallowing when he came up-stairs,
Mr. 'Possum said that he had been taking just the least little taste of
some of the things to see if they were keeping well--some nice cooked
chickens, for instance, from a lot that Mr. Crow had on hand and didn't
remember about, and a young turkey or two, and a few ducks, and a bushel
or so of apples, and a half a barrel of doughnuts, and--
But Mr. 'Possum didn't get any further, for all the Deep Woods People
made a wild scramble for the stairs, with Mr. 'Possum after them, and
when they got down in the store-room he took them behind one of the big
roots of the Hollow Tree, and there was a passageway that none of them
had ever suspected, and Mr. 'Possum lit a candle and led them through it
and out into a sort of cave, and there, sure enough, were all the things
he had told them about and some mince-pies besides. And there was even
some wood, for Mr. 'Possum had worked hard to lay away a supply of
things for a long snowed-in time.
Then all the Hollow Tree People sat right down there and had some of the
things, and by-and-by they carried some more up-stairs, and some wood,
too, and built up a fine big fire, and lit their pipes and smoked, and
forgot everything unpleasant in the world. And they all said how smart
and good Mr. 'Possum was to save all that food for the very time when
they would need it most, when all the rest of them had been just eating
it up as fast as possible and would have been now without a thing in the
world except for Mr. 'Possum.
Then Mr. 'Possum asked them if they could hear Old Hungry-Wolf any more,
and they listened but they couldn't hear a sound, and then they went up
into Mr. Crow's room, and into Mr. 'Coon's room, and into Mr. 'Possum's
room, and they couldn't see a thing of him anywhere, though it was just
the time of day to see him, for it was late in the evening--the time
Old Hungry-Wolf is most likely to look in the window.
And that night it turned warm, and the big snow began to thaw; and it
thawed, and it thawed, and all the brooks and rivers came up, and even
the Wide Blue Water rose so that the Deep Woods Company had to stay a
little longer in the Hollow Tree, even when all the snow was nearly
gone. Mr. Rabbit was pretty anxious to get home, and started out one
afternoon with Mr. Turtle along, because Mr. Turtle is a good swimmer.
But there was too much water to cross and they came back again just at
sunset, and Mr. Crow let them in,[C] so they had to wait several days
longer. But Mr. 'Possum's food lasted, and by the time it was gone they
could get plenty more; and when they all went away and left the three
Hollow Tree People together again, they were very happy because they had
had such a good time; and the 'Coon and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow
were as good friends as ever, though the gray feathers on the top of Mr.
Crow's head never did turn quite black again, and some of the Deep Woods
People call him "Silver-Top" to this day.
The Little Lady looks anxiously at the Story Teller.
"Did Old Hungry-Wolf ever get inside of the Hollow Tree?" she asks.
"No, he never did get inside; they only saw him through the window, and
heard him bark."
"And why couldn't Mr. 'Possum ever hear him sometimes?"
"Well, you see, Old Hungry isn't a real wolf, but only a shadow
wolf--the shadow of famine. He only looks in when people dread famine,
and he only barks and gnaws when they feel it. A famine, you know, is
when one is very hungry and there is nothing to eat. I don't think Mr.
'Possum was very hungry, and he had all those nice things laid away, so
he would not care much about that old shadow wolf, which is only another
name for hunger."
The Little Lady clings very close to the Story Teller.
"Will we ever see Old Hungry-Wolf and hear his bark?"
The Story Teller sits up quite straight, and gathers the Little Lady
tight.
"Good gracious, no!" he says. "He moved out of our part of the country
before you were born, and we'll take good care that he doesn't come back
any more."
"I'm glad," says the Little Lady. "You can sing now--you know--the
'Hollow Tree Song.'"