MOTHER
WEST WIND
"WHEN" STORIES
THORNTON-W BURGESS
NY PUBL C LIBRARY THE BRANCH LIBRARIES
3 3333 08107 854-
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MOTHER WEST WIND
"WHEN" STORIES
BOOKS BY
THORNTON W. BURGESS
THE BEDTIME STORY-BOOKS
1. THE ADVENTURES OF REDDY Fox
2. THE ADVENTURES OF JOHNNY CHUCK
3. THE ADVENTURES OF PETER COTTONTAIL
4. THE ADVENTURES OF UNC' BILLY POSSUM
5. THE ADVENTURES OF MR. MOCKER
6. THE ADVENTURES OF JERRY MUSKRAT
7. THE ADVENTURES OF DANNY MEADOW MOUSE
8. THE ADVENTURES OF GRANDFATHER FROG
9. THE ADVENTURES OF CHATTERER, THE RED
SQUIRREL
10. THE ADVENTURES OF SAMMY JAY
11. THE ADVENTURES OF BUSTER BEAR
12. THE ADVENTURES OF OLD MR. TOAD
13. THE ADVENTURES OF PRICKLY PORKY
14. THE ADVENTURES OF OLD MAN COYOTE
15. THE ADVENTURES OF PADDY THE BEAVEB
16. THE ADVENTURES OF POOR MRS. QUACK
17. THE ADVENTURES OF BOBBY COON
18. THE ADVENTURES OF JIMMY SKUNK
19. THE ADVENTURES OF BOB WHITE
20. THE ADVENTURES OF OL' MISTAH BUZZARD
MOTHER WEST WIND SERIES
1. OLD MOTHER WEST WIND
2. MOTHER WEST WIND'S CHILDREN
3. MOTHER WEST WIND'S ANIMAL FRIENDS
4. MOTHER WEST WIND'S NEIGHBORS
5. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHY" STORIES
6. MOTHER WEST WIND "How" STORIES
7. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
8. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHERF/' STORIES
GREEN MEADOW SERIES
1. HAPPY JACK
2. MRS. PETER RABBIT
3. BOWSER THE HOUND
THE BURGESS BIRD BOOK
FOR CHILDREN
The other birds laughed at him because he was
so tiny." FRONTISPIECE. See page 212.
BURGESS TRADE QUADD1ES MARK
MOTHER WEST WIND
"WHEN" STORIES
EY
THORNTON W. BURGESS
Author of " Old Mother West Wind,"
" The Bed Time Story-Rooks," etc.
Illustrations in Color by
HARRISON CAD7
NON-REFERT
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BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1920
Copyright 1917,
BT LITTLE, BROWN, \ND COMPANY,,
All rights reserved
THE COLONIAL PRESS
C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, TJ. S. A.
DEDICATION
To all little children and to all those crowned
with the glory of many years who still retain that
priceless possession, the heart of a child, this little
volume is affectionately dedicated.
CONTENTS
GAPTEB PAGE
I. WHEN MR. BLUEBIRD WON His
BEAUTIFUL COAT . . . 3
II. WHEN OLD MR. GOPHER FIRST GOT
POCKETS ..... 19
III. WHEN OLD MR. GROUSE GOT His
SNOWSHOES .... 35
IY. WHEN OLD MR. PANTHER LOST His
HONOR 49
Y. WHEN OLD MR. RAT BECAME AN
OUTCAST ..... 63
VI. WHEN MR. MOOSE LOST His HORNS 77
VII. WHEN MR. KINGFISHER TOOK TO
THE GROUND . . . .91
VIII. WHEN OLD MR. BADGER LEARNED TO
STAY AT HOME . . . 105
IX. WHEN BOB WHITE WON His NAME 119
X. WHEN TEENY-WEENY BECAME
GRATEFUL .... 133
XI. WHEN OLD MR. HARE BECAME A
TURNCOAT .... 147
XII. WHEN GREAT-GRANDFATHER SWIFT
FIRST USED A CHIMNEY 161
viii CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
XIII. WHEN PETER RABBIT FIRST MET
BLUFFER THE ADDER . . 177
XIV. WHEN MR. WOOD MOUSE LEARNED
FROM THE BIRDS . . . 191
XV. WHEN MR. HUMMINGBIRD GOT His
LONG BILL .... 205
XVI. WHEN OLD MR. BAT GOT His
WINGS 221
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
11 THE OTHER BIRDS LAUGHED AT HIM BE-
CAUSE HE WAS so TINY : Frontispiece
WINSOME BLUEBIRD is THE HERALD OF
SWEET MISTRESS SPRING ... 3
" THE BIGGER PEOPLE WOULD HAVE NOTHING
TO DO WITH HIM BECAUSE THEY WERE
ASHAMED OF HIM ' . . . .68
" Do^f'T TRY TO SWALLOW HIM, PETER! '
SAID HE ...... 78
HE SHOT DOWN AND DISAPPEARED WITH A
TINKLING LITTLE SPLASH . . .93
" ' I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH THESE PESKY
BUGS/ SAID HE ' . . . . 128
" MR. HARE WAS TOO SWIFT OF FOOT FOR
HIM '...... 154
JTMMY REACHED OUT AND POKED HIM, BUT
MR. SNAKE DIDN'T MOVE 182
WHEN MR. BLUEBIRD WON HIS
BEAUTIFUL COAT
"Winsome Bluebird is the herald of sweet Mistress
Spring. Page 3.
MOTHER WEST WIND
"WHEN" STORIES
WHEN MR. BLUEBIRD WON HIS BEAUTIFUL
COAT
OF all the joyous sounds of all the
year there is none more loved
by Peter Rabbit, and the rest
of us for that matter, than the soft
whistle of Winsome Bluebird in the
spring. The first time Peter hears it he
always jumps up in the air, kicks his
long heels together, and does a funny
little dance of pure joy, for he knows
that Winsome Bluebird is the herald of
sweet Mistress Spring, and that she is
4 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN 1 ' STORIES
not far behind him. It is the end of the
shivery, sad time and the beginning of
the happy, glad time, and Peter re-
joices when he hears that sweet, soft
voice which is sometimes so hard to lo-
cate, seeming to come from everywhere
and nowhere.
So Peter loves Winsome Bluebird
and never tires of seeing him about.
You know he wears a very, very beau-
tiful coat of blue, the blue of the sky
when it is softest, and you love to lie on
your back and look up into it and
dream and dream. It always has
seemed to Peter that Winsome 's coat is
one of the loveliest he ever has seen,
as indeed it is, and that it is quite right
and proper and just as it should be that
one having such a beautiful voice and
bringing such a beautiful message
should himself be beautiful. He said
as much one day when he had run over
MR. BLUEBIRD'S BEAUTIFUL COAT 5
to the Smiling Pool to pay his respects
to Grandfather Frog.
" Chug - a - rum! Certainly. Of
course," replied Grandfather Frog.
" Winsome Bluebird has a beautiful
nature and his beautiful coat is the re-
ward which Old Mother Nature has
given him. It has been in the family
ever since his grandfather a thousand
times removed was brave enough to
become the herald of Mistress Spring/
" Oh, Grandfather Frog, that sounds
like a story," cried Peter. " Please,
please tell it to me, for I love "Winsome
Bluebird, and I know I shall love him
more when I have learned more about
him. His great-great-ever-so-great-
grandfather must have done something
very fine to have won such a lovely
reward."
" He did," replied Grandfather Frog.
" He became the herald of Mistress
6 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
Spring when no one else would, and
bravely carried Ms message of gladness
and joy wliere it was sadly needed, in
spite of cold and hardship which no one
else was willing to face.'
" Please, please tell me all about it,"
begged Peter.
Grandfather Frog appeared to con-
sider for a few minutes, and Peter
waited anxiously. Then Grandfather
Frog cleared his voice. " I will," said
he, " because you ought to know it.
Everybody ought to know it, and Win-
some Bluebird certainly never will tell
it himself. He is too modest for that.
It happened a great while ago when
the world was young. Mr. Bluebird
was one of the quietest and most mod-
est of all the birds. He wore just a
modest gray coat, and no one took any
particular notice of him. In fact, he
didn't even have a name. He never
MR. BLUEBIRD'S BEAUTIFUL COAT 7
quarreled with his neighbors. He never
was envious of those to whom Old
Mother Nature had given beautiful
coats, or if he were, he never showed it.
He just minded his own affairs and did
his best to do his share of the work of
the Great World, for even in the begin-
ning of things there was something for
each one to do.
" Old Mother Nature was very
busy those days making the Great
World a fit place in which to live, and
as soon as she had started a new family
of birds or animals she had to leave
them to take care of themselves and
get along as best they could. Those
who were too lazy or too stupid to take
care of themselves disappeared, and
others took their places. There was
nothing lazy or stupid about Mr. Blue-
bird, and he quickly learned how to take
care of himself and at the same time
8 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
to keep on the best of terms with his
neighbors.
" When the place where the first
birds lived became too crowded and old
King Eagle led them out into the new
land Old Mother Nature had been pre-
paring for them, Mr. Bluebird was one
of the first to follow him. The new
land was very beautiful, and there was
plenty of room and plenty to eat for all.
Then came Jack Frost with snow and
ice and drove all the birds back to the
place they had come from. They made
up their minds that they would stay
there even if it were crowded. But
after a while Old Mother Nature came
to tell them that soon Jack Frost
would be driven back from that won-
derful new land, and sweet Mistress
Spring would waken all the sleeping
plants and all the sleeping insects up
there so that it would be as beautiful
MR. BLUEBIRD'S BEAUTIFUL COAT 9
as it was before, even more beautiful
than the place where they were now t
She said that she should expect them
to go to the new land and make it joy-
ous with their songs and build their
homes there and help her to keep the
insects and worms from eating all the
green things.
66 ' But first I want a herald to go be-
fore Mistress Spring to tell those who
have lived there all through the time
of snow and ice that Mistress Spring is
coming. Who will go as the herald of
sweet Mistress Spring? ' asked Old
Mother Nature.
" All the birds looked at one another
and shivered, and then one by one they
tried to slip out of sight. Now Mr.
Bluebird had modestly waited for some
of his big, strong neighbors to offer to
take the message of gladness up into
that frozen land, but when he saw them
10 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
slip away one by one, his heart grew
hot with shame for them, and he flew
out before Old Mother Nature. ' I'll
go,' said he, bobbing his head respect-
fully.
" Old Mother Nature just had to
smile, because compared with some of
his neighbors Mr. Bluebird was so very
small. ' What can such a little fellow
as you do? ' she asked. ' You will
freeze to death up there, for it is still
very cold.'
" ' If you please, I can at least try/
replied Mr. Bluebird modestly. ' If I
find I can't go on, I can come back.'
" ' And what reward do you expect? :
asked Old Mother Nature.
" ' The joy of spreading such good
news as the coming of Mistress Spring
will be is all the reward I want,' re-
plied Mr. Bluebird.
" This reply so pleased Old Mother
MR. BLUEBIRD'S BEAUTIFUL COAT 11
Nature that she then and there made
Mr. Bluebird the herald of Mistress
Spring and started him on his long
journey. It ivas a long journey and a
hard journey, harder, very much harder
for Mr. Bluebird than the same journey
is for Winsome these days. You see,
everything was new to him. And then
it was so cold! He couldn't get used
to the cold. It seemed sometimes as
if he certainly would freeze to death,
At these times, when he sat shivering
and shaking, he would remember that
sweet Mistress Spring was not very far
behind and that he was her herald.
This would give him courage, and he
would bravely keep on. Whenever he
stopped to rest, he would whistle the
news that Mistress Spring was coming,
and sometimes, just to keep up his own
courage, he would whistle while he was
flying, and he found it helped. To keep
12 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
warm at night tie crept into hollow
trees, and it was thus he learned how
snug and safe and comfortable such
places were, and he made up his mind
that in just such a place he would build
his nest when the time came.
" As he passed on he left behind him
great joy, and Mistress Spring found
as she journeyed north that all in the
forests and on the meadows were
eagerly awaiting her, for they had
heard the message of I A er coming; and
she was glad and tolcl Old Mother
Nature how well her herald had done
Ms work. When he had completed his
errand, Mr. Bluebird built a home and
was as modest and retiring as ever. He
didn't seem to think that he had done
anything out of the usual. He simply
rejoiced in his heart that he had been
able to do what Old Mother Nature had
requested, and it never entered his
MR. BLUEBIRD'S BEAUTIFUL COAT 13
head that he should have any other
reward than the knowledge that he had
done his best and that he had brought
cheer and hope to many.
6 1 When Jack Frost moved down from
the far North in the fall, all the birds
journeyed south again, and of course
Mr. Bluebird went with them. The
next season when it was time for Mis-
tress Spring to start north, Old Mother
Nature assembled all the birds, and this
time, instead of asking who would
carry the message, she called Mr. Blue-
bird out before them and asked if he
were willing to be the herald once more.
Mr. Bluebird said that he would be glad
to be the herald if she wished it. Then
Old Mother Nature told all the birds
how brave Mr. Bluebird was and how
faithful and true, and she made all the
other birds feel ashamed, especially
those bigger and stronger than Mr.
14 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
Bluebird. Then she said: * Winsome
Bluebird, for that is to be your name
from now on, I here and now appoint
you the herald of Mistress Spring, and
the honor shall descend to your chil-
dren and your children's children for-
ever and ever, and you shall be one of
the most loved of all the birds. And
because you are a herald, you shall have
a bright coat, as all heralds should
have; and because you are true and
faithful, your coat shall be blue, as blue
as the blue of the sky.'
" She reached out and touched Mr.
Bluebird, and sure enough his sober
gray coat turned the most wonderful
blue. Then once more he started on his
long journey and he whistled his mes-
sage more joyously than before. And
because his whistle brought joy and
gladness, and because he was beautiful
to see, it came about just as Old Mother
MR. BLUEBIRD'S BEAUTIFUL COAT 15
Nature had said it would, that he was
one of the most loved of all the birds,
even as his great-great-ever-so-great-
grandson is to-day. '
Peter drew a long breath. " Thank
you, Grandfather Prog," said he. "I
have always loved Winsome Bluebird
and now I shall love him more."
11
WHEN OLD MR. GOPHER FIRST
GOT POCKETS
II
WHEN OLD MR. GOPHER FIRST GOT POCKETS
1
\HERE was one of Peter Rabbit's
neighbors of whose presence lie
was always aware, and yet
whom he almost never saw. No, it
wasn't Miner the Mole, but it was one
who lives in much the same way as
Miner. When Peter would leave the
dear Old Briar-patch he seldom went
far without coming to a little pile of
fresh earth. These little piles of earth
had puzzled Peter a great deal for a
long time. It sometimes seemed to
Peter as if they appeared by magic.
He would pass across a certain part of
the Green Meadows, and there would
be nothing but the green things grow-
20 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
ing there. When he returned the same
way, there would be one or two or
maybe half a dozen piles of newly
turned earth.
" Of course/ said Peter the first
time he noticed one of these little earth
piles, " where there is a pile of earth
like that, there must be a hole. Some
one has been digging, and this is the
dirt thrown out."
But when Peter looked for the hole
he couldn't find one. There was no
hole. It was very puzzling, but it was
a fact. He kicked that pile of earth
until he had scattered it far and wide,
but there was no sign of a hole. Later
he tried the same thing with other little
piles of earth, but never once did he
find a hole. It looked as if some one
brought those little piles, dropped them
on the Green Meadows, and then went
away. Of course no one did anything
WHEN MR. GOPHER GOT POCKETS 21
of the kind, and Peter knew it. He
spent a good deal of time wondering
who could make them. Then one day,
as he was hopping along across the
Green Meadows, the ground right in
front of him began to move. It so
startled Peter that his first thought
was to run. Then he decided that it
would be foolish to run until there was
something to run from. So he sat per-
fectly still and watched that spot where
the ground was moving. Earth, loose
earth, was pushed up from underneath,
and even as Peter sat there staring,
with eyes popping out of his head and
mouth wide open in wonder, the pile
grew and grew until it was as big as
any of the piles about which he so often
had wondered. Then suddenly a head
was thrust out of the middle of it, a
homely head. In an instant it vanished,
and a second later the hole where it
22 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
had been was filled. Peter could hear
the stranger packing the earth in from
underneath. When Peter had recov-
ered his breath and looked, there was
no sign of the hole. No one would ever
have guessed that there had been one
there.
That was Peter Rabbit's first meet-
ing with Grubby Gopher. Since then
he has seen Grubby several times, but
Grubby is never what you would call
neighborly, and Peter never has felt
and never will feel really acquainted
with him. But for one thing Peter
would have thought Grubby Gopher
the most uninteresting fellow he ever
had met. The one thing was the dis-
covery that Grubby has the biggest
pockets in his cheeks that Peter has
ever seen. And another thing ab.out
those pockets - they are on the out-
side of Grubby 's cheeks instead of be-
WHEN MR. GOPHER GOT POCKETS 23
ing inside, as is the case with Striped
Chipmunk. When Peter discovered
this, he became curious at once. Of
course. Who wouldn't be curious?
Peter felt sure that there must be a
story in connection with those pockets.
He wondered what use Grubby Gopher
had for pockets, anyway. He wondered
why they were outside instead of inside
his cheeks. He wondered a great many
things, did Peter. And when he just
couldn't stand it any longer for won-
dering, he began to ask questions.
" Why does Grubby Gopher have
pockets in his cheeks? " he asked
Jimmy Skunk.
" Because they are handier there
than they would be anywhere else,'' re-
plied Jimmy with a twinkle in his eyes.
" Have you seen any fat beetles this
morning, Peter? '
6 ' No, ' ' returned Peter shortly. Then
24 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
an idea canie to him. " I tell you what,
Jimmy/' said he, speaking eagerly, " if
you'll tell me about those queer pockets
of Grubby 's and how he came by them,
I'll help you hunt for some beetles. Is
it a bargain? :
Jimmy Skunk scratched his nose
thoughtfully as if trying to decide
which would have the better of the bar-
gain. Then he grinned good-naturedly.
You know, Jimmy really is one of the
best-natured little people in the world.
" All right/ said he, "it's a bargain.
You do your part and I'll do mine.
Now where shall I begin? :
" Begin with the days when the
world was young, of course/ replied
Peter. " All good stories seem to have
had their beginnings then, so far as I
can see. Of course Grubby got those
pockets from his father, and his father
got them from his father, and so on way
WHEN MR. GOPHER GOT POCKETS 25
back to the first Gopher. So begin
right off with him. '
" Just as you say,' replied Jimmy.
" Old Mr. Gopher, the first Gopher, who
wasn't old then, was one of the little
people whom Old Mother Nature turned
loose in the Great World which was
just in its beginning and told to make
the best of life as they found it. No
doubt they would need things which
they hadn 't got, but first they must find
out what they really did need. Later,
when she had more time, she would con-
sider these needs, and if they were real
needs, not just desires, she would see
what could be done to supply them.
" So Mr. Gopher started out to make
his way in the Great World, and it
wasn't long before he discovered that
everybody else was doing the same
thing. It soon became clear to him that
if everybodv lived on the same kind of
26 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
food, there wouldn't be enough to go
around, and the biggest and strongest
creatures would get all there was, leav-
ing the smaller and weaker ones to
starve. Not long after this he discov-
ered certain of his big neighbors had
begun to look at him in a way that made
him most uncomfortable. In fact, they
looked at him with such a hungry gleam
in their eyes, and they licked their lips
in such an unpleasant way whenever he
met them, that little cold shivers ran
all over him and he decided that the
less he was seen the better his chances.
" One other thing Mr. Gopher dis-
covered, and this was that each one
seemed to have some special gift. One
was a good climber, another a swift
runner, a third a wonderful jumper, a
fourth a great swimmer. Mr. Gopher
could neither climb, nor run, nor jump,
nor swim particularly well. What
WHEN MR. GOPHER GOT POCKETS 27
could he do? Somehow he had a feel-
ing that Old Mother Nature had given
him some special advantage. What
could it be? He sat down and studied
himself. Then he noticed for the first
time that his hands were different from,
the hands of those about him. For Ms
size they were very large and strong,
and on the three middle fingers of each
hand were long, stout claws. What
could he do with these besides fight?
Dig! That was it; he could dig. He
tried it. Sure enough, he could dig at
a surprising rate.
66 Then came a new idea. He would
dig himself a hole and live in it. That
would keep him out of sight of his big
neighbors with the hungry-looking eyes
and the watery mouths. So he dug him-
self a hole, and then he discovered that
in order to get food he must leave the
hole, and so he was no better off than
28 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
before. While he was studying over
this, he started a little tunnel just for
the fun of digging, for he liked to dig,
did Mr. Gopher. Presently he came to
a root in his path. He decided to cut it
and get it out of his way. Now when
he began to cut it he made another dis-
covery, one that tickled him half to
death. That root was good to eat! He
ate all of it, and then he went on dig-
ging, hoping to find another. He did
find another. Then Mr. Gopher made
up his mind that in the future he would
live underground and be safe. He
would make himself a comfortable
house, and then from that he would
tunnel wherever he pleased for food.
66 So Mr. Gopher made a comfortable
house underground, and then he started
digging for food. Every once in a
while he would make an opening at the
surface of the ground and push out the
WHEN MR. GOPHER GOT POCKETS 29
dirt he had dug in making his tunnel,
filling up the opening as soon as he had
pushed out all the dirt. In this way
he kept his tunnels clear, so that he
could run back and forth through them.
So he lived very comfortably until one
day he happened to overhear Mr. Squir-
rel talking about the coming of Jack
Frost and telling how he wouldn't mind
because he was laying up stores of food
in a storehouse.
" ' That's a good idea of Mr. Squir-
rel's/ thought Mr. Gopher, who was
much troubled by what he had heard
about the coming of Jack Frost. ' I be-
lieve I'll do the same thing.' But when
he tried it, he found it slow, hard work.
You see, he could carry so little at a
time, and had to carry it so far, that it-
was very discouraging. He had forgot-
ten all about Old Mother Nature until
suddenly one day she appeared before
30 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
him and smilingly asked what boon she
could grant him. Almost without
thinking he replied, ' Pockets! Big
pockets in my cheeks! '
" Old Mother Nature looked sur-
prised. ' Tell me all about it,' said she.
6 Why do you want pockets, and what
would you do with them if you had
them? '
" So Mr. Gopher explained to Old
Mother Nature how he had learned to
live underground and how lately he had
been trying to lay up a store of food
but had found it slow work.
" Old Mother Nature was pleased to
think that Mr. Gopher had made the
most of his opportunities, but she didn't
say so. * I'll think it over ' said she and
/ /
left him. But the very next time Mr.
Gopher brushed a hand against one of
his cheeks, he discovered a great pocket
there. Hastily he felt of the other.
WHEN MR. GOPHER GOT POCKETS 31
There was another great pocket there!
Then Mr. Gopher was perfectly happy.
He felt that there wasn't a single thing
in all the world that he could ask for to
make him any happier. It is just the
same way with Grubby to-day. He is
perfectly happy working in the dark
under the ground and very, very proud
of the big pockets in his cheeks/ con-
cluded Jimmy Skunk.
" Thank you, Jimmy. Thank you
ever so much. Now I'll help you find
some fat beetles/ cried Peter.
Ill
WHEN OLD MR. GROUSE GOT HIS
SNOWSHOES
m
WHEN OLD MR. GROUSE GOT HIS SNOWSHOES
PETER RABBIT and Mrs. Grouse
are very good friends. In fact
they are the best of friends.
For one thing they are very near neigh-
bors. Once in a great while Mrs.
Grouse conies to the dear Old Briar-
patch and walks along Peter's private
little paths. However, that isn't often.
But up in the bramble tangle on the
edge of the Green Forest they spend a
great deal of time together. You see,
they both fear the same enemies, and
so they have a great deal to talk over,
and each is always ready to help the
other.
When winter comes Peter is some-
36 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
times rather lonely. You see, a lot of Ms
feathered friends fly away to the warm,
sunny Southland to spend the winter.
Other friends, Johnny Chuck and
Striped Chipmunk and Grandfather
Frog for instance, retire and sleep all
through the cold weather. Peter cannot
understand what they do it for, but they
do. So Peter has very few to gossip
with after Jack Frost arrives. But he
can always count on Mrs. Grouse. No
matter how hard Jack Frost pinches, or
how bitter the breath of rough Brother
North Wind, somewhere in the Green
Forest Mrs. Grouse is bravely doing her
best to get enough to eat, and Peter
knows that if he looks for her he will
find her.
There was one thing about Mrs.
Grouse that puzzled Peter for a long
time, and this was the difference be-
tween the footprints she made in the
WHEN MR. GROUSE GOT SNOWSHOES 37
soft damp earth after a rain in the sum-
mer and the prints she made in the
snow. The first time he noticed those
prints in the snow, he actually didn't
know who had made them. You know
how very, very curious Peter is. He fol-
lowed those queer footprints, and when
he found that they led right straight
into the bramble tangle, he just didn't
know what to think. He sat down on
the edge of the bramble tangle and
scratched his long right ear with his
long left hind foot. When Peter does
this it is a sign that he is very much
puzzled about something.
" Good morning, Peter Rabbit. You
seem to have something on your mind/
said a voice from the middle of the
bramble tangle.
Peter gave a little start of surprise.
Then he hopped into the bramble tangle
along one of the little paths he had cut
38 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
there. " Good morning, Mrs. Grouse,"
he replied. " I have got something on
my mind. I have been following some
strange tracks, and I don't know what
to make of them." He pointed at one
of them as he spoke.
" Oh," replied Mrs. Grouse in a tone
of great surprise. " I made those with
my snowshoes. I supposed you knew."
"Snowshoes! What are snow-
shoes? " asked Peter, looking more
puzzled than ever.
Very proudly Mrs. Grouse held out
one foot for Peter to look at. Instead
of the slim smooth toes he often had
admired Peter saw that the bottom of
each was covered for its whole length
with queer-looking, horny little points
that prevented the foot from sinking
way down in the snow as it would have
done without them. This made it very
easy for Mrs. Grouse to get about on
WHEN MR. GROUSE GOT SNOWSHOES 39
the snow instead of having to wade
through it.
" My! " exclaimed Peter. " How
perfectly splendid! Where did you get
them? "
" Oh/ 7 replied Mrs. Grouse with
pride in her voice, " they have been in
the family a great many years. They
were given to my great-great-ever-so-
great-grandfather by Old Mother
Nature."
" Tell me about it. Do please tell me
about it, 7 begged Peter, who had not
had a story since Grandfather Frog
went to sleep for the winter.
Mrs. Grouse fluffed out her feathers
and settled herself comfortably.
" There isn't much to tell," she began,
" but all the same our family always has
been rather proud of the way we came
by our snowshoes. It all happened a
great while ago. 77
40 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
" Way back in the time that Grand-
father Frog tells about, w T hen the world
was young? " interrupted Peter.
Mrs. Grouse nodded and went on.
" Great-grandfather Grouse lived very
comfortably in those days, even when
the hard times came and so many took
to killing their neighbors because food
was scarce. He always managed to get
enough to eat because he didn't believe
in being fussy. "When he couldn't get
what he wanted, he took what he could
get and was thankful. When he
couldn't find grasshoppers or crickets
or bugs of any kind, or chestnuts or
beechnuts or berries that he liked, he
ate such berries as he could find,
whether he liked them or not; and when
he couldn't find berries or seeds, he ate
the buds of trees. So one way or an-
other he managed to pick up a living
and to keep out of the way of his
WHEN MR. GROUSE GOT SNOWSHOES 41
enemies, for lie was just as smart as
they were. You know, in those days
there were no hunters with dreadful
guns.
" So Grandfather Grouse managed
to get along without really suffering
until the coming of the first snow.
That first snow was hard on everybody,
but it was particularly hard on Grand-
father Grouse. His slim toes cut right
through. They wouldn't hold him up
at all. Of course he spent as much time
as possible up in the trees, but when
he wanted to get low-hanging berries
on the bushes, the kind that stay on
all winter, you know, he just had to
stand on the ground and reach up for
them. Then, too, his feet were intended
for walking and running rather than
for perching in trees, and it made his
toes ache dreadfully to have to cling to
the branch of a tree too long. I know
42 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
just how it felt because I have had to
do it when Eeddy Fox has been hunting
for me.
" But Grandfather Grouse made the
best of a bad matter and didn't say a
word, not a word. He waded around
in the snow as best he could, but it was
dreadfully tiresome. He couldn't take
more than a few steps without stopping
to rest. And this wasn't all; the snow
made his feet ache with the cold. He
had to keep drawing first one foot and
then the other up to warm them in his
feathers.
" Now Grandfather Grouse had sharp
eyes, and he knew how to use them.
He had to, to keep out of danger. He
watched the other little people, and he
soon saw that those with big feet, feet
that were big for the size of their
bodies, didn't sink in like those with
small, slim feet. For the first time in
WHEN MR. GROUSE GOT SNOWSHOES 43
his life lie began to wish that Old
Mother Nature had made him different.
He wished that he had broad feet. Yes,
Sir, he wished just that. Then a
thought popped into his head. Perhaps
the snow wasn't going to last forever.
Perhaps it would go away and never
come again. Then he wouldn't want
broad feet, b,ut just the kind of feet he
already had. He sighed. Then he tried
to smile bravely.
" ' I guess,' said he, talking out loud
to himself, for he thought he was quite
alone, c I guess the thing to do is to stop
worrying about the things I haven't got
and make the most of the blessings I
have got/ and he started to wade
through the snow for some berries just
ahead.
" Now Old Mother Nature happened
to be passing, and she overheard Grand-
father Grouse. i I wish that every one
44 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
felt as you do,' said she. ' It would
make things a great deal easier for me.
But what is it that you wish YOU had? '
/ t/
" Grandfather Grouse felt both
pleased and a little ashamed - ashamed
that he should even seem to he dissatis-
fied. At first he tried to pretend that
everything really was all right, but
after a little urging he told Old Mother
Nature all about his troubles since the
coming of the snow. She listened and
looked thoughtful. Then she told
Grandfather Grouse to be patient and
perhaps things would not be so bad as
they seemed. Somehow Grandfather
Grouse felt better after that, and when
he went to bed for the night in a big
hemlock-tree he was almost cheerful.
" The next morning when he flew
down to get his breakfast, he had the
greatest surprise of his life. Instead of
sinking way down into the snow, he
WHEN MR. GROUSE GOT SNOWSHOES 45
sank hardly at all. He could get about
witli the greatest ease. He didn't know
what to make of it until he happened
to look down at his feet and then he
saw "
" That he had snowshoes! " inter-
rupted Peter Babbit, dancing about in
great excitement.
"Just so," replied Mrs. Grouse.
" He had snowshoes just like the ones
I have now. When spring came, Old
Mother Nature came around and took
them away, because he no longer had
need of them; but when the next winter
came, she returned them to him. She
called them the reward of patience.
And ever since that long-ago day our
family has had snowshoes in the winter.
I really don't know how we would get
along without them.'
" I don't know how you would,' ' re-
plied Peter Rabbit. " Isn't it splendid
46 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
how Old Mother Nature seems to know
just what everybody needs? '
And with that Peter started for the
dear Old Briar-patch to tell little Mrs.
Peter all about the snowshoes of Mrs.
Grouse.
IV
WHEN OLD MR. PANTHER LOST
HIS HONOR
IV
WHEN OLD MR. PANTHER LOST HIS HONOR
>ETER RABBIT, always curious,
had. overheard his cousin,
Jumper the Hare, tell Prickly
Porky the Porcupine that it was lucky
for him Punia the Panther was too
much afraid of men to come down to the
Green Forest to live, but kept to the
Great Woods and the Big Mountains.
At the very mention of Puma the thou-
sand little spears of Prickly Porky had
rattled together, and Peter had a queer
feeling that this time, instead of being
rattled purposely to make others afraid,
they rattled because Prickly Porky
50 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
himself shook with something very like
fear. In fact, it seemed to Peter that
Prickly Porky actually turned pale.
Now Peter knew nothing at all about
Puma the Panther, and right away he
was so full of questions that he could
hardly wait to get Jumper alone so that
he might satisfy his curiosity. The first
chance he got he began to ask questions
so fast that Jumper clapped his hands
over both ears and threatened to run
away.
66 Who is Puma? Where does he
live? Why is Prickly Porky afraid of
him? What does he look like?
"Why " It was then that Jumper
clapped his hands over his ears. Peter
grinned. * i Please, Cousin Jumper, tell
me about him," he begged.
Jumper pretended to consider for a
few minutes. Then, because like most
people he likes to air his knowledge, and
WHEN MR. PANTHER LOST HONOR 51
also because lie is very fond of Ms
cousin Peter, lie told Mm what lie knew
about Puma the Panther.
" In the first place," said he, " Puma
is the biggest member of the Cat family
living in the Great Woods.'
" Is he bigger than Tufty the
Lynx ? ' ' asked Peter eagerly.
Jumper nodded, and Peter's eyes
opened very wide. " He looks very
much like Black Pussy, Farmer
Brown's cat, only he is yellowish-brown
s
instead of black, and is ever and ever
and ever so many times bigger, ' ' contin-
ued Jumper. " He has a long tail, just
like Black Pussy, and great claws which
are terribly sharp. He is so soft-footed
that he can steal through the woods
without making a sound; he can climb
trees like Happy Jack Squirrel, and he
is so big and strong that every one but
Buster Bear is afraid of him, even
52 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
Prickly Porky, for he is so smart and
cunning that he has found a way to
make Prickly Porky 's thousand little
spears quite useless to protect him.
But big and strong and smart as he is,
he is a coward because he is a sneak,
and all sneaks are cowards. Of course,
you know that, Peter/
Peter nodded. " Everybody knows
that/ said he. " But if he is so big
and strong and smart, why is he a
sneak? "
"I guess it's in his blood, and he
can't help himself,' replied Jumper.
" I guess it is because way back in the
beginning of things his great-great-
ever - so - great - grandfather lost his
honor, and none of the family ever has
got it back again.'
" How did old Mr. Panther lose his
honor? ' demanded Peter, fairly itch-
ing with curiosity and eagerness.
WHEN MR. PANTHER LOST HONOR 53
" Well,' replied Jumper, " all I
know is wliat I've heard whispered
about among the people of the Great
Woods. It may be true and it may not
be, but every one seems to believe it.
As I said before, it happened way back
in the beginning of things. Old King
Bear ruled the Great Woods then, and
there was peace between all the ani-
mals. Mr. Panther was sleek and hand-
some and graceful in all his movements.
He knew it, too. He spent a great deal
of time washing himself and smoothing
his fur, just as Black Pussy does. He
would stretch out in the sun for hours
with his eyes closed until they were
just slits. But all the time he saw all
that was going on around him.
" He would watch old King Bear
shuffling about in his clumsy fashion,
and he would curl the end of his tail up
and twitch it scornfully. Then he
54 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
would look at his own trim form admir-
ingly and think how much finer-looking
a king he would make. The more he
watched old King Bear, the more this
feeling grew. He became envious and
then jealous. But he took care never
to let old King Bear know this. You
see, there was one thing about King
Bear which Mr. Panther did respect,
and that was his strength. He had no
desire to quarrel with King Bear. So
whenever they met he was very polite
and said flattering things to him. But
behind his back Mr. Panther made fun
of him, but did it in such an artful way
that his neighbors merelv thought that
^2 e ^J
they themselves were making the dis-
covery of how r much handsomer Mr.
Panther was than old King Bear.
66 After a while came the hard time
when food was scarce, and in order to
keep from starving, the big and strong
WHEN MR. PANTHER LOST HONOR 55
began to prey on their neighbors who
were smaller or weaker or more help-
less. But the law was made that none
should kill more than was needed to
fill an empty stomach for the time be-
ing. It was then that Mr. Panther
thought of a plan for making old King
Bear hated by all his subjects.
" ' If they hate him, they will refuse
to have him as king any longer, and I,
being next in strength and far more
kingly in appearance, will be made king
in his place,' reasoned Mr. Panther, but
he took care not to hint such a thing.
" Presently ugly stories began to float
about. Some one was killing seemingly
for the fun of killing. It was dreadful,
but it was true. Almost every day some
one was found killed but not eaten, and
always there were footprints going to
and away from the place, and they were
the footprints of old King Bear! So*
56 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
all the forest people began to hate King
Bear and to mutter among themselves
that they would have him for king no
longer. Finally some of them went to
Old Mother Nature and told her all
about it; they asked that old King Bear
be punished and that some one else be
made king in his place. Old Mother
Nature told them that she would think
it over.
" Quite unknown to old King Bear,
she followed him about and watched
him as he shuffled about in his clumsy
way. ' Hm-m, it ought not to be very
hard to keep out of his way. Those who
are caught must be very stupid if he
catches them,' thought she. Presently
her sharp eyes caught a glimpse of a
shadowy form sneaking along behind
old King Bear. It was Mr. Panther,
and he was stepping with the greatest
care so as to leave no footprints. Old
WHEN MR. PANTHER LOST HONOR 57
Mother Nature sat down and waited.
She saw Mr. Panther bound away
through the trees. By and by he came
back, bringing the body of a Hare which
he had killed. He laid it down where
old King Bear had left a footprint in
the soft earth and then, with his long-
tail twitching, he looked this way and
that way to make sure that no one had
seen him and then bounded away.
" The next day Old Mother Nature
called all the people of the forest before
her, and they all came, for none dared
stay away. When they were all there,
she had each in turn look her straight
in the face while she asked if they had
hunted fairly and honorably and only
when they were hungry. Each in turn
looked her straight in the face and said
that he had until it came the turn of
Mr. Panther. Mr. Panther's tail
twitched nervously, and he looked
58 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
everywhere but at Old Mother Nature
as she put the question to him.
" ' Look me straight in the face and
tell me on your honor that you have
hunted fairly,' commanded Old Mother
Nature. Mr. Panther knew that all
eyes were upon him, and he tried his
best to look her in the face, but he
couldn't do it. You see, he hadn't any
honor. He had lost it, and without
honor no one can look another straight
in the face. Instead he turned and be-
gan to slink away, and all who saw him
wondered how they ever could have
t/
thought him kingly-looking.
" Then Old Mother Nature told what
she had seen the day before, and at once
everybody understood who it was that
had been doing the killing and trying to
make it appear that it was old King
Bear, and they all turned and shouted
6 Coward! Sneak! Coward! Sneak! '
WHEN MR. PANTHER LOST HONOR 59
until Mr. Panther fairly ran to get out
of hearing. From that time on he lived
by himself and would not look even
timid Mr. Hare in the face. Instead of
hunting openly and boldly like Mr.
Wolf, he sneaked about in the forest
and hunted by stealth, so that all the
people of the forest looked on him with
scorn, and though most of them feared
him, they called him a coward and they
nicknamed him ' Sneak-cat.'
" And to this day all Panthers have
been the same, sneaking and cowardly
in spite of their great size and strength,
for it has been in their blood ever since
the time when old Mr. Panther lost his
honor/ ' ended Jumper.
Peter was silent for a minute. Then
he said softly: " I'm little and timid,
but I'd rather be that way than to be
big like Puma but a coward and a
sneak. I can look any one in the face."
WHEN OLD MR. RAT BECAME AN
OUTCAST
WHEN OLD MR. RAT BECAME AN OUTCAST
ROBBER THE BROWN RAT is
an outcast among the little peo-
ple of the Green Meadows and
the Green Forest. You know an outcast
is one with whom no one else will have
anything to do. No one speaks to Rob-
ber. Whoever meets him pretends not
to even see him, unless it happens to be
one of the Hawk family or one of the
Owl family or Shadow the Weasel. If
one of these sees him, it is well for Rob-
ber to find a safe hiding-place without
any loss of time.
But the rest of the little meadow and
forest people turn their backs on Rob-
64 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN' STORIES
ber and get out of his way, partly
because many of them are afraid of
him, and partly because they de-
spise him and consider him quite
beneath them. He hasn't a single
friend among them, not even among
his own relatives. The latter are
ashamed of him. If they could help
it, they wouldn't even admit that
they are related to him. Just mention
him to them, and right away they will
begin to talk about something else.
Wag the Wood Rat and Bounder the
Kangeroo Rat are very different fel-
lows and are well liked, but Robber the
Brown Rat is hated. Yes, Sir, he is
hated even by his own relatives, which,
you will agree, is a dreadful state of
affairs.
Peter Rabbit had heard of Robber
but never had seen him until one moon-
light night he happened to go up to
MR. RAT BECOMES AN OUTCAST 65
Farmer Brown's barn just out of curi-
osity. He saw a hole under the barn
and was trying to decide whether or
not to go in and find out what was in-
side when who should come out but
Robber himself. His coat was so rough
and untidy, he was so dirty, he smelled
so unclean, and he looked so savage
that Peter at once decided that he
wasn't interested in that barn and took
himself off to the Green Forest, lip-
perty-lipperty-lip, as fast as he could
go. All the rest of the night he thought
about Robber the Brown Rat, and the
very next day he hurried over to the
Smiling Pool to ask Grandfather Frog
how it was that Robber had become
such a disreputable fellow with not a
single friend.
Grandfather Frog had had a good
breakfast of foolish green flies and was
feeling in the very best of humor.
66 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
" Chug-a-rum! " said he, " Robber
the Brown Rat is an outcast because he
is all bad. His father was all bad, and
his father's father, and so on way back
to the beginning of things when the
world was young. There was no good
in any of them, and there is no good in
Robber. He is a disgrace to the whole
race of meadow and forest people, and
so he lives only where man lives, and I
have heard that he is as much hated
by man as by the rest of us.
" Way back when the world was
young, his great-great-ever-so-great-
grandfather, who was the first of his
race, lived with the rest of the little
people in the Green Forest, and Old
Mother Nature gave him the same
chance to make an honest living that
she gave to the rest. For a while Mr.
Rat was honest. He was honest just as
long as it was easier to be honest than
MR. RAT BECOMES AN OUTCAST 67
dishonest. But when the hard times
came of which you know, and food be-
came scarce, Mr. Eat was too lazy to
even try to earn his own living. He
discovered that it was easier to steal
from his neighbors. He wasn't at all
particular whom he stole from, but he
took from big and little alike. He was
so sly about it that for a long time no
one found him out.
66 By and by his neighbors began to
wonder how it was that Mr. Rat always
seemed fat and well fed and yet never
was seen to work. But Mr. Eat was too
crafty to be caught stealing. He said
he didn't need much to live on, which
was an untruth, for he was a very
greedy fellow. Now laziness is a habit
that grows. First Mr. Eat w r as too lazy
to work for his living. Then, little by
little, he grew too lazy to be crafty.
He grew bolder and bolder in his steal-
68 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
ing, until at last he just took what he
pleased from those who were smaller
than he. Being well fed, he was strong.
All the little people of his own size and
smaller feared him. The bigger people
said it was no business of theirs, so long
as he didn't steal from them. All the
time he was stealing from them, but
hadn't been caught.
" Finally he grew too lazy to keep
himself looking neat. His coat was al-
ways unbrushed and untidy-looking.
He was always dirty. You see, it was
too much work to even wash his face
and hands. There w r as always food
sticking to his whiskers. The little
people kept away from him because
they were afraid of him. The bigger
people would have nothing to do with
him because they were ashamed of him,
ashamed to be seen in his company.
" So lazy Mr. Rat grew dirtier in his
li The bigger people would have nothing to do with
him, because they were ashamed of him.'
Page 68.
MR. RAT BECOMES AN OUTCAST 69
habits, bolder in his stealing, and im-
pudent to everybody. He became
quarrelsome. It was about this time
that the bigger people found him out.
" Mr. Lynx had secured the first
meal he had had in a week. Part of it
he put away for the next day. Before
going to bed he went to have a look at
it. Some of it was gone.
" * That's queer,' muttered Mr. Lynx.
' I wonder who there is who dares to
steal from me.'
" Mr. Lynx hid where he could watch
what was left of that meal. By and by
he grew sleepy. He was just dozing off
when he heard a noise. There was Mr.
Rat carrying off part of what was left
of that meal. "With a snarl of anger
Mr. Lynx leaped out. But Mr. Eat was
too quick for him. He slipped into a
hole. Mr. Lynx grabbed at him and
caught him by the tail. Mr. Rat pulled
70 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
and Mr. Lynx pulled. But Mr. Rat's
tail was slippery, and Mr. Lynx
couldn't hold on. He did, however,
pull all the hair from it.
" Of course, Mr. Lynx told what had
happened, and after that Mr. Rat did
not dare show himself at all when the
bigger people were about. So he lived
in holes and continued to steal. Fi-
nally old King Bear called a meeting,
and it was decided to drive Mr. Rat out
of the Green Forest and off the Green
Meadows. Little Mr. Weasel said that
he was not afraid of Mr. Rat, and he
would go into all the holes and drive
Mr. Rat out. So Mr. Weasel went into
hole after hole until at last he found
Mr. Rat. Mr. Rat tried to fight, but he
found that little Mr. Weasel was so
slim and could move so quickly that he
couldn't get hold of him. So at last Mr.
Rat was forced to run to save his life.
MR. RAT BECOMES AN OUTCAST 71
" The minute he appeared all the
others, big and little, started for him.
Mr. Rat gave one look, and then, with
a squeal of fright, he ran with all his
might, dodging into one hiding-place
after another, only to be chased out of
/
each. And so at last he turned away
from the Green Forest and the Green
Meadows and ran to the homes of men,
where he hid in dark places and stole
from men as he formerly had stolen
from his neighbors of the Green Forest.
And because men are wasteful and
allow much food to spoil, Mr. Eat
found plenty to fill his stomach, such
as it was, but often it was such as no
one else would have touched.
" Once or twice he tried to get back
to the Green Forest, but as soon as he
was discovered he was driven back, and
at last he gave up trying. He grew
more dirty than ever, and finding every-
72 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
body, even man, against him, he be-
came savage of temper, living wholly
by stealing, evil to look at and evil to
come near, for in the dirt of his coat he
carried sickness from place to place.
In no place in all the Great World
could he find a welcome.
" His children followed in his foot-
steps, and his children's children. Old
Mother Nature became so disgusted
with them that she said that they
should always remain outcasts until
they should mend their ways. But
this thev never did. and so Robber the
i/
Brown Eat is an outcast to-day, looked
down on and hated by every living
thing. There is none to say a good
word for him. And to this day the tails
of Robber's family have been almost
bare of hair as a reminder of how old
Mr. Rat of long ago came to be driven
out of the Green Forest. Now are you
MR. RAT BECOMES AN OUTCAST 73
satisfied, Peter Rabbit? : concluded
Grandfather Frog.
" Yes, indeed, and I thank you ever
so much/ 9 declared Peter. " Ugh! It
must be dreadful to be despised and
hated by all the Great World. I
wouldn't be in Robber's place for any-
thing. '
" Chug-a-rum! I should hope not!
said Grandfather Frog.
VI
WHEN MR. MOOSE LOST HIS HORNS
VI
WHEN MR. MOOSE LOST HIS HORNS
PETER RABBIT had just seen
Flathorns the Moose for the first
time, and Peter was having hard
work to believe that there wasn't some-
thing the matter with his eyes. Indeed
they looked as if something was the
matter with them, for they seemed
about to pop right out of his head. If
any one had told Peter that any one as
big as Flathorns lived in the Great
Woods, he wouldn't have believed it,
but now that he had seen that it was
so, he just had to believe. So Peter
sat with his eyes popping out and his
mouth gaping wide open in the most
foolish wav as he stared in the direc-
tion in which Flathorns had gone.
78 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
"Big, isn't he?"
Peter looked up to see Blacky the
Crow in the top of a birch-tree just at
one side, and Blacky, too, was looking
after Flathorns. Then Blacky looked
down at Peter and began to laugh.
" Don't try to swallow him, Peter!
said he.
Peter closed his mouth with a snap.
" My, but he is big! : he exclaimed.
" I never felt so small in all my life as
/
when I first caught sight of him. What
queer horns he has ! I suppose they are
horns, for he carries them on his head
just as Lightfoot the Deer does his.
They are so big I should think ihey
would make his head ache.'
" Perhaps they do, and that is why
he drops them every spring and grows
a new pair during the summer, ' ' replied
Blackv.
V
" Drops them! Drops those great
Don't try to swallow him, Peter! ' said he.
Page 78.
MR. MOOSE LOSES HIS HORNS 79
horns and grows new ones in a single
summer! Do you mean to tell me that
hard things like those horns grow?
And what do you mean by saying that
he drops them every spring? Why, I
saw him banging them against a tree
just now, and I guess if they ever were
coming off they would have come off
then. You can't fool me with any such
story as that, Blacky !
* ' Have it your own way, Peter, ' re-
plied Blacky. " Some people never can
believe a thing until they see it with
their own eyes. All IVe got to say is
*
just keep an eye on Flathorns in the
spring and then remember what IVe
told you.' Before Peter could reply
Blacky had spread his wings, and with
a harsh " Caw, caw, caw,' had flown
away.
Of course, after that Peter was very
very curious about Flathorns the
80 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
Moose, and he just ached all over to
ask about those horns. But every time
he saw them the idea that they ever
would or could come off seemed so im-
possible that he held his tongue. You
see, he didn't want to be laughed at.
So the winter passed, and Peter was no
wiser than before. Then the spring
came, and one never-to-be-forgotten
day Peter was hurrying along, lipperty-
lipperty-lip, when right in front of him
lay something that made him stop
short and stare even harder than he
had stared the first time he saw Plat-
horns. What was it? Why, it was
one of those very horns he had thought
so much about! Yes, Sir, that is just
what it was.
Even then Peter couldn't believe it
was so. He couldn't believe it until he
had hunted up Plathorns himself and
seen with his own eyes that there were
MR. MOOSE LOSES HIS HORNS 81
no longer any horns on that great head.
Then Peter had to believe. It seemed
to Peter the strangest thing he ever had
heard of. There must be a reason, and
if there were, Grandfather Frog would
be sure to know it. So every day Peter
visited the Smiling Pool to see if Grand-
father Frog had wakened from his long
winter sleep. At last one day he found
him and could hardly wait to tell him
how glad he was to see him once more
and to be properly polite before he
asked him about those horns of Flat-
horns the Moose.
" Chug-a-rum! said Grandfather
Frog. " It's pretty early in the season
to be asking me for a story, but seeing
it is you, Peter, and that you've waited
all winter for it, I'll tell it to you.
Way, way back in the days when the
world was young, the first Moose, the
great - great - ever- so - great-grandfather
82 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
of Flathorns, was the biggest of all the
animals in the Green Forest, but he had
no horns, and he was such a homely
fellow that everybody laughed at him
and made fun of him. Now nothing
hurts quite so much as being laughed
at."
" I know,' interrupted Peter.
" Mr. Moose felt so badly about it
that he used to hide away and keep out
of sight all he possibly could/ con-
tinued Grandfather Frog. " Big as he
was and strong as he was, he would
turn and run away to hide from even
such little people as Mr. Skunk and Mr.
Squirrel and your ever-so-great-grand-
father, Mr. Rabbit. He just couldn't
bear to be laughed at. Old Mother
Nature kept her eye on him and at last
she took pity on him and crowned his
head with the most wonderful horns,
horns so big that no one smaller than
MR. MOOSE LOSES HIS HORNS 83
Mr. Moose could possibly have carried
them.
" Then Mr. Moose threw up his head
and carried it proudly? ior now no one
laughed at Mm. He marched through
the Great Woods boldly, and even old
King Bear, who was king no longer,
stepped aside respectfully. Then pride
entered into Mr, Moose; pride in Ms
wonderful horns; pride In Ms great
strength. He feared no one. He beat
the bushes with his great horns and
bellowed until the Great Woods rang
with Ms voice, and all those who had
once laughed at him hid in fear. He
proclaimed himself king of the Great
Woods, and no one dared to deny it.
66 So he came and went when and
where he pleased and felt himself every
inch a king and carried his great horns
as a crown. One day in the beginning
of the springtime, he came face to face
84 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
with Old Mother Nature. Once he
would have bowed to her very humbly,
/ */ 7
but by now he had grown so proud and
haughty that instead of stepping aside
for her to pass, he boldly marched on
with his head held high as if he did not
see her. It was Old Mother Nature
who stepped aside. She said nothing,
but as he passed she reached forth and
touched his great horns and they fell
from his head, and with them fell all his
pride and haughtiness. At once some
of his neighbors who had been hiding
near and had seen all that had happened
began to mock him and make fun of
him and laugh at him.
" Then, with his head hung low in
shame, did Mr. Moose slink away and
hide as he had done in the beginning,
and none could find him save Old
Mother Nature. Very humble was Mr.
Moose when she visited him; all his
MR. MOOSE LOSES HIS HORNS 85
pride was melted away in shame. Old
Mother Nature was sorry for him. She
promised him that he should have new
horns, but that once a year he should
lose his horns lest he should forget and
again become over-proud and haughty.
So while he kept hidden, the new horns
grew and grew until they were greater
and more wonderful than the ones he
had had before. Then Mr. Moose once
more came forth, holding his head high
and glorying in his strength, and all his
neighbors treated him with the greatest
respect, quite as if he were really king
of the Great Woods.
" But he never forgot what Old
Mother Nature had said to him, and
when the spring came, he slipped away
and hid lest he should be seen without
the glory of his horns, for in his heart
he knew that Old Mother Nature would
keep her word. Sure enough, his great
86 MOTHER WEST WIND ' WHEN" STORIES
horns dropped off, and in humbleness
and patience he waited for new horns
to grow. So it was all the years of his
life, and so it has been with his children
and his grandchildren even to this day,
and so it is with Flathorns, and so it
will be with his children. And the
Moose family never have forgotten and
never can forget that there is nothing
so foolish as pride in personal appear-
ance/
" Is that all? : asked Peter, as
Grandfather Frog stopped.
" Isn't that enough? : demanded
Grandfather Frog testily. " Just think
it over a while, and when you are
tempted to be proud and haughty just
remember the horns of Mr. Moose and
what happened to them. '
" Thank you ever so much for the
story," replied Peter politely as he
hopped away. Half way to the dear Old
MR. MOOSE LOSES HIS HORNS 87
Briar-patch he paused. " It served
old Mr. Moose just right! he declared
to no one in particular. -And so it did.
VII
WHEN MR. KINGFISHER TOOK TO
THE GROUND
vn
WHEN MR. KINGFISHER TOOK TO THE
GROUND
ETEE RABBIT had taken it into
his funny little head to wander
down the Laughing Brook belov^
Hie Smiling Pool. It was open there,
and in one place the bank was quite
high and steep. Peter sat down on the
edge of it and looked down. Eight
under him the Laughing Brook was
very quiet and clear. Peter sat gazing
down into it. He could see all the
pebbles on the bottom and queer little
plants growing among them. It seemed
very queer, very queer indeed to Peter
that plants, real plants, could be grow-
92 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
ing down there under water. Some-
how he couldn't make it seem right that
anything but fish should be able to live
down there.
So Peter sat gazing down, lost in a
sort of day-dream. The Jolly Little
Sunbeams made beautiful lights and
shadows in the water. Everything was
so peaceful and beautiful that Peter
quite forgot he was sitting right out in
the open where Redtail the Hawk
might spy him. He just gave himself
up to dreams, day-dreams, you know.
Presently those day-dreams were very,
very near to being sleep-dreams. Yes,
Sir, they were. Peter actually was nod-
ding. His big eyes would close, open,
close again, open and then close for a
little longer. Suddenly a sharp and
verv loud, noise, which seemed to come
*/
from right under his very toes, put an
end to all nodding and dreaming. It
He shot down and disappeared with a tinkling little
splash. Page 93.
MR. KINGFISHER'S HOME 93
was a long, harsh rattle, and it startled
Peter so that he almost jumped out of
his skin. Anyway, he jumped straight
up in the air, and the wonder was that
he didn't tumble headfirst down that
steep bank right into the Laughing
Brook. A queer prickly feeling ran all
over him. He blinked his eyes rapidly.
Then he saw a handsome blue and white
and gray bird, with a head that looked
too big for his body, flying up the
Laughing Brook just above the water,
and as he flew he made that sharp,
harsh, rattling noise which had startled
Peter so. Abruptly he paused in his
flight, hovered over the water an in-
stant, shot down, and disappeared with
a tinkling little splash. A second later
he was in the air again, and in his
stout, spear-like bill was a gleaming,
silvery thing. It was a little fish, a
minnow.
94 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN 11 STORIES
" Rattles the Kingfisher! ex-
claimed Peter, as he watched him fly
over to a tree, pound the fish on a
branch, and then go through the fun-
niest performance as he tried to swallow
the minnow whole. " Now where did
he come from? ' ' continued Peter. " It
certainly seemed to me that he came
from right under my very feet, but
there isn't so much as a twig down
there.'
Peter poked his head over the edge
of the bank. No, there wasn't a single
thing down there on which Rattles
could have been sitting. He was still
wondering about it when his wobbly
little nose caught a smell, a very un-
pleasant smell. It was the smell of fish,
and it seemed to come from right under
him. He leaned a little farther over the
edge of the bank, and then he gave a
funny little gasp. There was a hole in
MR. KINGFISHER'S HOME 95
the bank only a few inches below him,
i/
and the smell certainly came from that
hole.
Could it be, could it possibly be that
Rattles had come out of that hole? It
certainly seemed so, and yet Peter
couldn't quite believe it. The very idea
of a bird living in a hole in the ground!
" I don't believe it! I don't, so
there ! : ' exclaimed Peter right out loud.
" What is it you don't believe? "
asked a voice. Peter looked down.
There was Little Joe Otter looking up
at him from the water, his eyes twink-
ling.
" I don't believe that Rattles the
Kingfisher came out of that hole, yet I
don't see where else he could have come
from," replied Peter.
Little Joe chuckled. " That's where
he came from, even if you don't believe
it," said he. " I don't suppose you will
96 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
believe that he dug that hole himself,
either. '
Peter's eyes opened very wide. " I-
I'll believe it if you say on your honor
that it really is so," he replied slowly.
" On my honor it really is so," said
Little Joe Otter, his eyes twinkling
more than ever. " Perhaps you would
like to know how the great-great-grand-
father of Eattles the Kingfisher hap-
pened to take the ground for a home."
Peter's eyes fairly danced. " Do tell
me, Little Joe! Oh, please tell me! "
he exclaimed.
Little Joe climbed out of the water on
a rock just below Peter and settled him-
self comfortably.
: Once upon a time,' he began.
"In the beginning of things,"
prompted Peter.
"Yes, in the beginning of things,"
replied Little Joe, " way back when
MR. KINGFISHER'S HOME 97
the world was young, lived the very
first of the Kingfisher family. From
the very beginning Mr. Kingfisher was
a very independent fellow. He cared
nothing about his neighbors. That is,
he was not social. He was polite
enough, but he preferred his own com-
pany and was never happier than when
he was by himself. Of course, his
neighbors soon found this out. They
called him odd and queer, and soon re-
fused to even speak to him. This just
suited Mr. Kingfisher, and he went
about his business very well content to
be let alone. He spent his days fishing,
and, because there were few other fish-
ermen, he always had plenty to eat. At
night he found a comfortable roost in
a tree, and so for a time he was per-
fectly contented.
" By and by he discovered that most
of his neighbors were building: homes.
Lw J.f~f\JJ- k_> V \~>J- \j I^J d._LJ. \_1__L-LJ. tZ*
98 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
At first lie gave little attention to this,
but after a while, seeing how happy
they were, he began to think about a
home for himself. The more he thought
about it, the more he wanted one. But
underneath Mr. Kingfisher's pointed
eap were very clever wits. He would
do nothing hastily. So he flew up and
down the brook, appearing to do noth-
ing but fish, but all the time he was
keeping his eyes open, and there were
no sharper eyes than those of Mr. King-
fisher.
He was watching his neighbors
work to see where and how they made
their homes. He saw some of the birds
building nests in the trees, some build-
ing them in the bushes, and a few
building right on the ground.
" Of all he saw he liked best the home
of Drummer the Woodpecker. i That
fellow has the right idea,' thought he.
MR. KINGFISHER'S HOME 99
6 He cuts a hole in a tree; he is dry; he
is warm; and 110 one can get at him
there. If I build a home, that is the
kind of place I want. He has got what
I call plain sense, plain common sense! :
" After this Mr. Kingfisher watched
until he was quite sure that no one was
around to see him, and then he tried to
make a hole in a tree as he had seen
Drummer the Woodpecker do. But
right away he discovered that two
things were wrong; his bill was not
made for cutting wood, and his feet
were not big enough or the right shape
f or^ clinging to the side of a tree. Mr.
Kingfisher was disappointed, very
much disappointed. A hole seemed to
him the only kind of a place for a home.
He was thinking it over when he hap-
pened to discover Mr. Muskrat digging'
a hole in the bank. At first he didnt
pay much attention. Then all in a flash
100 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
an idea, a wonderful idea, came to him.
Why shouldn't he have a home in the
ground? No one in the wide world
would ever think of looking for the
home of a bird in the ground. With a
rattle of joy, Mr. Kingfisher flew off up
the brook to a steep, sandy bank of
which he knew.
" ' Just the place! Just the very
place! ' he cried. ' I'll make a hole just
a little way from the top. No one will
see it except from below, and it will be
hard work for any one to climb up that
sandy bank. '
" He flew straight at the spot he had
selected and drove his big spear-like
bill into it. Then he did it again and
again. That bill Wouldn't cut wood
like the bill of Drummer the Wood-
pecker, but it certainly would cut into
a sandy bank. In a little while he had
room to cling with his feet. Then he
MR. KINGFISHER'S HOME 101
could work faster and more easily.
Pretty soon lie had a hole deep enough
to get into. He would loosen the earth
with his bill and scrape it out with his
feet. He was so pleased with his dis-
covery that he kept right on working.
He almost forgot to eat. All the time
he could spare from fishing, he spent
digging. Day after day he worked.
When he had a hole three or four feet
straight into the bank, he made a turn
in it and then kept on digging. When
he had gone far enough in, he made a
little bedroom.
" At last the house was done. Mr.
Kingfisher chuckled happily. No one
could get at him there. He had the
best and safest home he knew of. It
was better than the home of Drummer
the Woodpecker. If Mr. Mink hap-
pened to find it, and Mr. Kingfisher
could think of no one else who would
102 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
be likely to, there would be nothing
to fear, for Mr. Mink would never dare
face that sharp bill in such a narrow
place.
" It all worked out just as Mr. King-
fisher thought it would. No one
dreamed of looking in the ground for
his home, and for a long, long time he
kept his secret so well that his neigh-
bors thought he had no home, and
called him 6 Hattles the Homeless.'
Prom that day to this the Kingfishers
\i O
have made their homes in the ground, '
concluded Little Joe Otter.
" Isn't it wonderful? : exclaimed
Peter, as he watched Eattles dive into
the water and catch a silvery minnow.
" I didn't know that any one wearing
feathers had so much sense.'
" There's a great deal you don't
know, Peter," replied Little Joe Otter,
sliding into the water.
VIII
WHEN OLD MR. BADGER LEARNED
TO STAY AT HOME
vm
WHEN OLD MR. BADGER LEARNED TO STAY
AT HOME
*^HE first time Peter Rabbit saw
Digger the Badger, he laughed
at him. Yes, Sir, Peter
laughed at him. He laughed until he
had to hold his sides. When he got
back to the dear Old Briar-patch, he
told little Mrs. Peter all about Digger.
That is, he told her all that he had seen,
which was really very little indeed
about Digger, as he found out later.
i ' I found him away over on the Green
Meadows in a place where I have never
been before, and I almost stepped on
him before I saw him. You should
have seen me jump. I guess it is lucky
I did, too, for he certainly has got the
106 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
wickedest-looking teeth, and I didn't
like the way he snarled. Then at a safe
distance I sat down and laughed. I
just had to. Why, his legs are so short
and his coat hangs clown so on each
side that he doesn't seem to have any
legs at all. And as for shape, he hasn't
any. He is so broad and flat that he
looks as if something big and heavy had
passed over him and rolled him out flat.
But how he can dig ! If Johnny Chuck
should ever see him digging, Johnny
would die of envy. I'm going over
there again to learn more about him.'
"You'd better stay at home and mind
your own affairs,' replied little Mrs.
Peter tartly. ' ' ~No good comes of pok-
ing into the affairs of other people. '
This is true, and Peter knows it, but
he just couldn't keep away from that
part of the Green Meadows where he
had discovered Digger the Badger. The
MR. BADGER STAYS AT HOME 107
more he saw of Digger, the greater be-
came his curiosity about him. The less
Peter can find out for himself about any
one, the more curious he becomes, and
all he could find out about Digger was
that he slept most of the day, never
went far from home, could dig faster
than any one Peter had ever heard of,
was short-tempered, and was treated
with respect by all his neighbors, even
Old Man Coyote, who seemed to know
him very well.
All this made Peter more curious
than ever, so one day, when Old Man
Coyote happened along by the Old
Briar-patch, Peter ventured to ask him
about Digger the Badger. Old Man
Coyote happened to be feeling in fine
humor, for he had just eaten a good din-
ner. So he sat down just outside the
dear Old Briar-patch, and this is what
he told Peter:
108 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
6 i Digger is an old friend of mine, and
I would advise you to treat him with
the greatest respect, Peter, because if
you don't, and he ever gets his claws on
you, that will be the end of you. I
wouldn't care to get in a fight with him
myself, big as I am. You may have
noticed that no one ever bothers him.'
Peter nodded, and Old Man Coyote
continued: " I don't know of any one
who minds his own business and keeps
his nose out of the affairs of other peo-
ple as Digger does. Greatest home-
body I know of, unless it's Johnny
Chuck, and even Johnny wanders off
once in a while. But Digger never gets
very far from his own doorstep. Says
there is no place like home, and he can't
see what anybody wants to leave the
best place in the world for, even if they
can come back to it. '
Mrs. Peter reached over and poked
MR. BADGER STAYS AT HOME 109
Peter in the back, but lie didn't even
look at her. You know, she is always
trying to keep Peter from roaming
about so. Old Man Coyote went on
with his story.
" It isn't because Digger is afraid.
Goodness, no ! I don't know of any
one better able to take care of himself
than Digger the Badger. I guess it is
because his family always have been
home-lovers. I've heard my grand-
father tell how Digger's grandfather
was just the same as Digger is, and how
he had heard his grandfather say the
same thing about Digger's grand-
father's grandfather. They say that
the very first Badger, who founded the
family way back in the days when the
world was young, started this home-
staying habit, and that all Badgers ever
since then have been just like him.
Digger is terribly proud of his family
110 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
and of old Mr. Badger, who founded it
so long ago. I don't know as I wonder
at it. Old Mr. Badger certainly had
more sense than some of his neighbors.
" You see, when Old Mother Nature
first turned him loose in the Great
World, he felt that she had not been at
all fair in her treatment of him. His
legs were so short and he was so broad
and flat that everybody or nearly
everybody laughed at him and good-
naturedly poked fun at him. He pre-
tended not to care, but he did care, just
the same. No one really likes to be
laughed at for something he cannot
help. Mr. Badger would watch his
neighbors, Mr. Wolf and Mr. Fox and
Mr. Rabbit and others, run and jump,
and then he would try to do as they did,
and he couldn't because his legs were
so short and so clumsy. He would sit
for hours admiring the graceful forms
MR. BADGER STAYS AT HOME 1H
of his neighbors and comparing them
with his own homely shape. He would
wonder what Old Mother Nature could
have been thinking of when she made
him.
" But he didn't say so to her. No,
indeed ! He kept his thoughts to him-
self and never let his neighbors know
that he envied them in the least. One
day he wandered out from the Green
Forest on to the Green Meadows. He
liked it out there. He liked to look up
and see so much of the blue, blue sky
all at once. He liked to look off and
see a long distance. Of course, he
couldn't do that in the Green Forest
because of the trees. He liked being
by himself because he felt so sensitive
about his homely shape. He discovered
that if he lay down flat on his stomach
when any one came near, he was always
passed unnoticed. Being so broad and
112 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
flat and altogether shapeless, he could
remain unseen right out there on the
open Green Meadows even when the
grass was short, and that was some-
thing that Mr. Wolf and Mr. Fox and
even little Mr. Rabbit couldn't do. It
pleased him. He began to be less en-
vious of his neighbors.
" Then one never-to-be-forgotten day
the Red Terror, w T hich men call fire- r
broke loose in the Green Forest, and
all the little people fled before it.
Across the meadows and past old Mr.
Badger they raced, with fear in their
eyes, and behind them came the Red
Terror. A terrible fear sprang up in
the heart of Mr. Badger. With those
short legs he never in the world could
run fast enough to escape. What
should he do? What could he do? He
looked at the great claws on his stout
feet, and all in a flash an idea came to
MR. BADGER STAYS AT HOME 113
him. Perhaps if he dug a hole and
crawled into it, the Eed Terror would
not find him. At once he began to dig,
and how the dirt did fly ! In just no
time at all he was quite out of sight, and
by the time the Red Terror had reached
there, he was so far down in the ground
that he didn't even feel the heat.
" When it was all over and the earth
had cooled off so that he could come out,
he sat on the pile of dirt in front of his
hole and did some hard thinking. He
looked at his stout legs and long claws,
and all at once it came over him that
Old Mother Nature had not been so un-
fair after all. She had provided him
with a means to take care of himself
which he wouldn't exchange with any
of his neighbors for all their speed and
better looks. Later, when he saw how
some of them were worn out with run-
ning, and some of them even had
114 MOTHER WEST WIND'" WHEN" STORIES
burned places on their coats, the last bit
of envy disappeared.
" i I guess/ said he to himself, ' Old
Mother Nature has given each one
special blessings, but she expects us to
find them out for ourselves. I've found
mine out, some of them, anyway, and
I'll just get busy and look for the rest.
I'm going straight over to the prettiest
part of the Green Meadows where the
Red Terror hasn't been and dig myself
a house in the ground. There is no
place like a good home, so what is the
good of roaming around? My legs
were not intended for that, and those
who have got longer legs can do it if
they want to.'
: He did just what he said he would
do. He practised digging until he
was the best digger of all the little peo-
ple. The more he dug, the stouter and
stronger his legs became, and soon he
MR. BADGER STAYS AT HOME 115
found that all his neighbors respected
his strength, and none would quarrel
with him. Because he could get plenty
to eat near his home, he never went far
from his doorstep, and from that time
on he lived in perfect safety and con-
tentment. He brought his children up
to do the same thing, and if you should
go over and ask Digger to-day, he would
tell you that there is no place like home,
and that he envies no one. I'm glad,
however, that not every one agrees with
him, or I should have hard work to get
a living,' concluded Old Man Coyote
with a sly wink at Mrs. Peter.
IX
WHEN BOB WHITE WON HIS NAME
IX
WHEN BOB WHITE WON HIS NAME
THIS isn't the story of the Bob
White you know, and yet
when I think it over, I don't
know but that it is, after all. It
is the story of the first Bob White, the
i/
great - great - great - ever-so-great-grand-
father of the Bob White you know and
I know and everybody who ever has
heard his whistle knows. It is a story
of that long-ago time, way back in the
beginning of things, when the world
was young, and yet I guess it is just as
much our own Bob White's story as it
is his great-great-great-ever-so-great-
grandfather 's. You see, it is because
of it, of what happened in that long-ago
120 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
time, that Bob White is Bob White. So
that makes it his story too, doesn't it *?
Anyway, I'll tell you the story and
leave it to you to decide.
Old Mother West Wind told me the
story, and she got it from Peter Rab-
bit, and Peter got it from well, I don't
know for sure, but I suspect he got it
from Bob White himself. You know
Peter and Bob White are great friends.
They are very near neighbors. They
are such near neighbors and such good
friends that if it popped into Peter's
funny little head to be curious about
Bob White's affairs, he wouldn't hesi-
tate an instant to ask Bob about them.
Anyw r ay, some one told Peter the story,
and I like to think that that some one
was none other than that brown-coated
little whistler, Bob White the Quail,
himself. Here is the story as Old
Mother West Wind told it to me :
BOB WHITE WINS HIS NAME 121
" Long, long ago, way back in the be-
ginning of things, when the world was
young, when the Green Meadows were
new, and the Green Forest was new,
and the Smiling Pool and the Laughing
Brook and the Big River were new, and
the little and big people whom Old
Mother Nature put in them to live were
new too, being the very first each of his
kind, things were different, quite differ-
ent from w r hat they are now. Old
Mother Nature w r as busier than she is
now, and goodness knows she is busy
enough these days. In fact, she is a
million times busier than the busiest
other person in all the Great World. If
she wasn't, if she grew tired or lazy or
careless or anything like that, I am
afraid things would go so wrong with
the Great "World that they never, never
could be righted again.
" But in these far-away days in the
122 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
beginning of things she was busier
still. It is always easier to keep things
going after they are once started than
it is to start them, and Old Mother
Nature was just starting things. So she
started a great many of the little people
off in life, and told them to make the
best of things as they found them in the
Great World and do as well as they
could while she was attending to other
matters.
" Now one of these little people was
a plump little person in a coat of red-
dish-brown feathers. He was Mr.
Quail, the great-great-great-ever-so-
great-grandfather of all the Quails. To
Mr. Quail, as to all the others, Old
Mother Nature said: ' The Great
World is new. There is a place in it
for you. but you must find that place for
/ i/ a.
yourself. There is work for you to do,
but you must find out for yourself what
BOB WHITE WINS HIS NAME 123
it is. When you have real need of any-
/ v
tiling come to me, but don't bother me
until you do have. No one who proves
to be helpless or useless will live long.
Now run along and prove whether or
not you have a right to live.'
" So little Mr. Quail went out among
the other people in the Great World to
try and find his place. All the other
people were trying to find their places,
and some of them were having a dread-
ful time doing it. A great many began
by trying to do just what their neigh-
bors did, which was the very worst kind
of a mistake. It was a pure waste of
time. Worse still, it wasn't making a
place in the work of the Great World.
Little Mr. Quail's eyes were very
bright, and he used them for all they
were worth. His wits were quite as
bright, and he used these the same way.
" ' There are two things for me to
124 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
find out,' said lie to himself, 'what I
can't do and what I can do. The sooner
I find out what I can't do, the more time
I'll have to find out what I can do. I've
got wings, and that must mean that Old
Mother Nature intends me to fly. I'm
glad of that. It must be fine to sail
around up in the air and see all that is
going on down below.'
" Up overhead 01' Mistah Buzzard
was sailing 'round and 'round, high up
in the sky, with hardly a motion of his
broad wings. Little Mr. Quail watched
him a long time, and a great longing to
do the same thing filled him. At last he
sprang into the air, and right then he
made a discovery. Yes, Sir, he made a
discovery. He must beat his wings
with all his mieht in order to stav in
o /
the air. When he stopped beating them
and held them spread out as 01' Mistah
Buzzard did, he found that he simply
BOB WHITE WINS HIS NAME 125
sailed a little way straight ahead and
then began to come down. He must
keep those wings moving very fast or
else come down to the ground. Then he
made another discovery. In a very
little while his wings were so tired that
he just had to stop flying.
" Little Mr. Quail squatted in the
grass and panted for breath. He was
disappointed, terribly disappointed.
' It 's plain to me that Old Mother Na-
ture doesn't intend that I shall spend
my time sailing about in the air,' said
he. He scratched his pretty little head
thoughtfully. ' I can fly pretty fast for
a short distance/ he continued, talking
to himself, ' but that is all. That must
mean that I have been given wings for
use only in time of need. There are
some birds flitting about in a tree. They
seem to be having a good time. I think
I'll join them. If I can't sail about in
126 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
the air, the next best thing will be flit-
ting about in the trees. '
" So after he had rested a bit, little
Mr. Quail flew to the tree where the
other birds were flitting about, and
there he made another disappointing
discovery. Try as he would, he couldn't
flit about as they did. Moreover, he
didn't feel comfortable perched in a
tree for any length of time. It made
his toes ache to bend them around the
branch on which he was sitting. He
watched the other birds, and his bright
eyes soon discovered that their feet
were different from his feet. Their toes
were made to clutch twigs and hold
them there comfortably, while his were
not. t Old Mother Nature doesn't in-
tend that I shall spend my time flitting
about in trees,' said he sorrowfully, and
flew down to the ground once more.
" Right away his feet felt better. All
BOB WHITE WINS HIS NAME 127
the ache left them. It was good to be
on the ground. Pretty soon he began
to run about. It was good to run about.
He felt as if he could run all day with-
out getting tired. While hunting for
food he discovered that if his toes were
not made for perching in trees, they
certainly were made for scratching over
leaves and loose earth where stray
seeds were hiding. Then he made still
another discovery. His coat was just
the right color to make it hard work for
others to see him when he squatted
down close to the ground. If an enemy
did discover him, his stout little wings
took him out of danger like a bullet.
" Little by little it came over him
that he had found his place in the Great
.World, which was on the ground most
of the time. But he remembered what
Old Mother Nature had said about work
to do, and this worried him a little.
128 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
One day he watched Mr. Toad catching
bugs. Old Mr. Toad was grumbling.
' I can't keep up with these pesky
bugs,' said he. ' When I get my
stomach full, I have to wait for it to get
empty again before I can catch any
more. But tliey don't wait. They keep
right on eating all the time, and there
won't be any green things left if I
don't have help.'
" Little Mr. Quail grew thoughtful.
Then he started in to help Old Mr. Toad
catch bugs so as to give the green things
a chance to grow. He had found work
to do, and he did it with all his might.
He forgot he ever had wanted to sail
around in the air or flit about in the
trees. He had found his place in the
Great World, and he had found work to
do, and also he had found the secret of
the truest happiness. He was so happy
that he had to tell his neighbors about
. . .
I can't keep up with these pesky bugs,' said he."
Page 128.
BOB WHITE WINS HIS NAME 129
it. So every morning, just before start-
ing work, he would fly up on a stump
and whistle with all his might ; what he
tried to say was, i All-all's right! All-
all's right! But what his neighbors
thought he said was, ' Bob-Bob "White!
Bob-Bob White ! '
" So they promptly called him Bob
White and loved him for the cheer
which his clear whistle brought to them.
When Old Mother Nature came to see
how things were getting on, she found
little Mr. Quail the happiest and the
most useful of all the birds, and as she
listened to his whistle, she smiled and
said: ' I love you, Bob White, and all
the world shall love you.' And all the
world has loved him to this very day. 7
X
WHEN TEENY-WEENY BECAME
GRATEFUL
WHEN TEENY-WEENY BECAME GRATEFUL
LD something move among the
dead leaves along that old log,
or was it the wind that stirred
them? Peter Rabbit stared verv hard
/
trying to find out. Not that it made the
least bit of difference to Peter. It
didn't. If something alive had moved
those leaves, that something was too
small for Peter to fear it. Probably it
was a worm or a bug. It might have
been a beetle. That looked like a good
place for beetles. There was Jimmy
Skunk ambling down the Lone Little
Path this very minute, and Jimmy
always appeared to be looking for
beetles. Peter stared harder than ever.
A leaf moved. Another turned fairly
134 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
over. There wasn't any wind just then.
Dead leaves don't turn over of them-
selves, so there must be something alive
there.
" What has Peter on his mind this
morning to make him stare so ? ' asked
Jimmy Skunk as he ambled up.
Peter grinned. " I was just wonder-
ing/ said he, " if there are any fat
beetles under that log over there. Those
dead leaves along the side of it have a
way of moving once in a while without
cause that I can see. There! What
did I tell you?" '
Sure enough, a couple of leaves had
moved. Jimmy Skunk's eyes bright-
ened. He actually almost hurried over
to that old log, and began to rake away
the leaves. Suddenly he stopped and
sniffed. At the same time Peter
thought he saw something dart in at
the hollow end of that log. It might
TEENY-WEENY IS GRATEFUL 135
have been a shadow, but Peter had a
feeling that it wasn't. Jimmy Skunk
sniffed once more and then deliberately
turned his back on that old log, and
with his nose turned up, his face the
very picture of disgust and disappoint-
ment, he rejoined Peter.
Teeny Weeny, clever and spry,
Disappears while you wink an eye/
said Jimmy.
" Oh! " exclaimed Peter. " Is that
who it was? I suppose he was hunting
beetles himself. He's such a little mite
of a fellow that I should think a good-
sized beetle could almost carry him
away. I declare to goodness, I don't see
how any one so small manages to live!
Danny Meadow Mouse and Whitefoot
the Wood Mouse are small enough, but
they are giants compared with Teeny
Weeny the Shrew. They have a hard
136 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
enough time keeping alive, and I should
think that any one smaller would stand
no chance at all.'
" Do you know Teeny Weeny very
well? " asked Jiinmv.
/'
" No,' 1 confessed Peter. " I've seen
him only a few times and then had no
more than a glimpse of him. '
" And yet he lives right around here
where you come and go every day/
said Jimmy.
I know it,' ' replied Peter. " I sup-
pose it is because he is so small. He
can hide under next to nothing.'
Jimmy grinned. " I don't see but
what you've answered yourself,' he
chuckled. "It's because he is so small
that Teeny Weeny manages to keep out
of harm. He isn't very good eating,
anyway, so I have heard say. '
" Why? Because there isn't enough
of him to make a bite? " asked Peter.
TEENY-WEENY IS GRATEFUL 137
" No,' replied Jimmy. " Of course
I don't know anything about it, but I've
heard those who do say that a Shrew
doesn't taste good, and that no one who
is at all particular about his food will
touch one. I am told that Hooty the
Owl hunts Teeny Weeny, but Hooty
isn't at all particular, you know. If
Teeny Weeny tastes the way he smells,
I for one don't want to try him.'
Peter laughed right out. He couldn't
help it. The idea of Jimmy Skunk
being fussy about smells was too funny.
" What are you laughing at? " de-
manded Jimmy, suspiciously.
At the idea that any one so small
can smell bad enough to make any dif-
ference,' replied Peter. " I wonder
how he comes to have that bad smell.'
"It's a reward," replied Jimmy.
"It's a reward handed down to him
from the days when the world was
138 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
young, and Ms great-great-great-ever-
so-great-grandfather, the first Shrew,
you know, who was also called Teeny
Weeny, was given it by Old Mother
Nature, because he had sense enough
to be grateful and to tell her that he
was/
" It's a story! cried Peter. " It's
a story, and you've just got to tell it to
me, Jimmy Skunk.'
" Say please,' grinned Jimmy.
" Please, please, please, please,' re-
plied Peter. " If that isn't enough, I'll
say it as many times more.'
" I guess that will do, because after
all it isn't so very much of a story," re-
turned Jimmy, scratching his head as
if he were trying to stir up his memory.
66 It happened way back in the be-
ginning of things that when Old Mother
Nature had about finished making the
birds and the animals, she had just a
TEENY-WEENY IS GRATEFUL 139
teeny weeny pinch of the stuff they
were made of left over. Because she
couldn't then and can't now bear to be
wasteful, she started to make some-
thing. First she started to make it into
a very tiny mouse. Then she changed
/ / * 7
her mind and started to make it into
a tiny mole. Finally she changed her
mind again and made it into something
like each but not just like either, blew
the breath of life into it, and set it free
in the great world. That was Teeny
Weeny, the first Shrew, and the small-
est of all animals.
" For a while Teeny Weeny wished
that he hadn't been made at all. He
wished that Old Mother Nature hadn't
been so thrifty and saying. What was
the good of being an animal at all if he
wasn't big enough to be recognized as
such? That's the way he felt about it
for a while. It hurt his feelings to have
140 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
old King Bear say, after just missing
him with Ms great foot. ^ I beg your
pardon. You are so tiny I thought you
were a bug of some kind. Of course, I
don't mind stepping on bugs, but I
wouldn't step on you for the world.
"Why don't you grow so that we can see
you? '
" ' Yes, why don't you? ' asked old
Mr. Wolf. ' If you get stepped on,
don't blame us.' Even Mr. Meadow
Mouse laughed at him because he was
so small. Teeny Weeny was quite furi-
ous at that. So for a while he was very
unhappy because he was so small. He
ate and ate and ate, hoping that this
would make him grow bigger. But it
didn't. He remained as small as ever,
the smallest of all the four-footed peo-
ple. And his temper didn't improve.
Not a bit. He was fretful and snappish.
He said all sorts of things about Old
TEENY-WEENY IS GRATEFUL 141
Mother Nature because she had made
him so small. He almost hated her. He
couldn't see a single advantage in being
so small.
" Time went on, and at length came
the hard times of which you have heard.
t/
the times when food was so scarce and
most of the little people were always
hungry. Then it was that the big and
strong began to hunt the small and
weak, as you know. At first Teeny
Weeny was in a regular panic of fear.
He felt that because he was so small he
hadn't any chance at all. But after a
while he made a discovery, a most amaz-
ing discovery. It quite took his breath
away when he first realized it. It was
that because he was so small he had
more chance than some of those of
whom he had been envious. Because
he was so small, he could slip out of
sight in a twinkling. He could slip into
142 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
holes that no one else could get into. A
leaf on the ground would hide him.
" Then he discovered that because
he was so very small, it didn't take
much food to fill his stomach, and he
had no trouble in finding all he needed
to eat. While his neighbors were going
hungry, he was fat and comfortable.
Bugs there were and worms there were
in plenty, and on these he lived. One
day he saw Old Mother Nature, and she
looked worried. She was worried. It
was in the very middle of the hard times
and wherever she went, the little people
of the Green Forest and the Green
Meadows crowded about her to com-
plain and ask her help. Teeny Weeny
remembered all the bitter things he
had said and all the bitter thoughts he
had had because she had made him so
small, and he was ashamed. Yes, Sir,
he was ashamed. You see, he realized
TEENY-WEENY IS GRATEFUL 143
by this time that his small size was
his greatest blessing.
" What did Teeny Weeny do but
/ /
march right straight up to Old Mother
Nature the first chance he got and tell
her how grateful he was for what she
had done for him. He was quite hon-
est. He told her how he had felt, and
how he had said bitter things, and how
sorry he was now that he understood
how well off he was. Then he thanked
her once more and turned to leave. Old
Mother Nature called him back. She
was wonderfully pleased to have these
few words of thanks amid so many
complaints.
" l Teeny Weeny/ said she, l be-
cause you have been smart enough to
see, and honest enough to admit a bless-
ing in what you had thought a hardship,
and because you have been grateful in-
stead of complaining, I herewith give
144 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
you this musky odor, which will be dis-
tasteful to even the hungriest of your
enemies. It is a further protection to
you and your children and your chil-
dren's children for ever and ever.'
" And so it was, and so it has been,
and so it is, and that's all," concluded
Jimmy Skunk.
XI
WHEN OLD MR. HARE BECAME A
TURNCOAT
XI
WHEN OLD MR. HARE BECAME A TURNCOAT
1
TURNCOAT isn't considered a
very nice name to call any one.
You see, it is supposed to mean
one who has turned traitor, as it were;
has been on one side and gone over to
the other side. If a soldier who is fight-
ing for France should go over to the
German army and fight for Germany
against France, he would he a turncoat.
Benedict Arnold, of whom you have
read in history, was a turncoat. But
the meaning isn't always bad. Just
take the case of Jumper the Hare. In
summer he wears a coat of brown, but
in winter he wears a coat of white, the
white of the pure driven snow. So you
see he is a turncoat, but in his case it
148 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
doesn't mean anything bad at all. On
the contrary, it means something rather
nice and very interesting.
Now you know Jumper is the cousin
of Peter Rabbit and looks very much
like Peter, save that he is very much
larger and has longer hind legs and
longer ears. But Peter wears the same
little homely brown coat in winter that
he does in summer, the only difference
being that it is thicker and so warmer.
I am afraid that Peter has sometimes
let a little envy creep into his heart
when he has met his cousin wearing a
coat of pure white. Be that as it may,
Peter puzzled over the matter a great
deal until he found out from Grand-
father Frog how it happens that
Jumper has such a lovely winter coat.
It happened one evening in early
June, when Peter was hopping along
down the Lone Little Path through the
MR. HARE BECOMES A TURNCOAT 149
Green Forest, tliat lie met Jumper and
stopped to gossip for a few minutes.
He had not seen Jumper since gentle
Sister South Wind had swept away
the last of the winter snow. Then
Jumper's coat had been white; now it
was brown. This reminded Peter that
he never had been able to tease Jumper
into telling him how he could change
his coat that way. None of Peter's
other friends of the winter seemed to
know, for he had asked all of them, and
each had told him to ask Grandfather
Frog. Of course, Peter couldn't do
that in winter because Grandfather
Frog was then fast asleep in the mud
at the bottom of the Smiling Pool.
With the coming of spring he had for-
gotten all about the matter. How at
the sight of Jumper once more, it all
came back to him.
When Peter and Jumper parted.
150 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
Peter started for the Smiling Pool, lip-
perty-lipperty-lip. He arrived there
quite out of breath.. Grandfather Frog
smiled a big, broad smile. Before Peter
could say a word Grandfather Frog
spoke.
" If you will catch a foolish green
fly for me, Peter, I'll tell you the
story, ' ' said he.
For a full minute Peter couldn't find
his tongue, he was so surprised. How
do you know what story I want? ? ' he
stammered at last.
" I don't know, but that doesn't
make any difference," replied Grand-
father Frog. " Catch me a foolish
green fly, and I'll tell you any story you
want.'
" But but but I can't catch fool-
ish green flies,' cried Peter,
would if I could, but I can't, and you
know I can't.
MR. IIARE BECOMES A TURNCOAT 151
u You can try,' replied Grandfather
Frog gruffly, but with a twinkle in his
eyes which Peter didn't see.
Peter hesitated. Then suddenly he
shut his lips in a way that meant that
he had made up his mind to something.
He looked this way and that way.
Whichever way he looked he saw fool-
ish green flies flitting about. He
jumped for one and missed it. He
jumped for another and missed it. It
was the beginning of such a funny per-
formance that Grandfather Frog nearly
rolled off his big green lily-pad with
laughter. Peter raced and jumped this
way and that way on the banks of the
Smiling Pool as if he had gone quite
crazy, and at last in his excitement
jumped right into the Smiling Pool
itself after a foolish green fly. But not
one did he catch.
As he crawled out of the water, look-
152 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
ing forlorn enough, Grandfather Frog
took pity on him. " Chug-a-rum! "
said he. " Lie down there in the sun
and dry off, Peter, and 111 tell you the
story.'
. " But I haven't caught you a foolish
green fly! " exclaimed Peter.
" No, but you've tried, and will-
ingness to try is just as deserving of
reward as successful effort, Now what
was it you wanted to know? " replied
Grandfather Frog.
" If you please, I want to know how
it is that my cousin, Jumper the Hare,
happens to have a white coat in winter.
It seems to me very curious," replied
Peter.
" A long time ago, in the beginning
of things," began Grandfather Frog,
" Old Mother Nature gave the first
Hare a brown coat and turned him out
into the Great World to shift for him-
MR. HARE BECOMES A TURNCOAT 15S
self, just as she had done with all the
other animals. That was a very easy
matter for old Mr. Hare, who wasn't
old then, of course. You see, those were
good times with plenty for all to eat
without trying to eat each other. Mr.
Hare was very bashful, and like most
bashful people he liked to be by him-
self. So he made his home in the most
lonely part of the Green Forest and
was very happy and contented for a
long time.
" Now being alone so much made him
very timid, ready to jump and run at
the least unusual sound, and this, it
happens, proved to be a very good thing
for Mr. Hare. You see, being by him-
self that way, he had plenty to eat even
after the hard times of which you have
heard had begun. So he was in splen-
did condition, was Mr. Hare, even after
some of the other little people had be-
154 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
gun to grow thin because of lack of
food. One day Mr. Lynx happened to
stray to that part of the Green Forest
where Mr. Hare was living. He saw
Mr. Hare before Mr. Hare saw him.
He licked his lips hungrily. ' Ha!
thought he, i this is where I get a good
dinner. '
66 With this he began to creep ever so
softly towards Mr. Hare. But careful
as he was, he stepped on a tiny stick
and it snapped. Instantly away went
Mr. Hare without stopping to see what
had made the noise. That was because
he had grown so timid from living so
much alone. Then Mr. Lynx made a
mistake. With a yell he started after
Mr. Hare, and so Mr. Hare learned that
it w r as no longer safe to trust his neigh-
bors. Mr. Lynx didn't catch Mr. Hare,
because Mr. Hare was too swift of foot
for him, but he gave him such a scare
I (
Mr. Hare was too swift of foot for him.'
Page 154.
MR. HARE BECOMES A TURNCOAT 155
that Mr. Hare was more timid than
ever. Others tried to catch him, and,
little by little, Mr. Hare learned that he
must always be on the watch, and that
safety lay in two things his long legs
and his brown coat. He learned about
the latter by being surprised once by
Mr. Wolf. He knew that Mr. Wolf
didn't see him as he crouched among
the brown leaves. For once he was too
frightened to run, Mr. Wolf was so
close to him, and this, as it happened,
was a very good thing. Mr. Wolf trot-
ted right past without seeing him or
smelling him.
" After that Mr. Hare tried that trick
often, for he was smart, was Mr. Hare.
When he suspected that he had been
seen he ran, but when he felt sure that
he hadn't been seen, he sat tight right
where he happened to be. But when
the first snow came, Mr. Hare found
156 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
himself in a peck of trouble. He didn 't
dare sit still when an enemy was near,
because his brown coat stood out so
against the white snow r , and when he
ran it was an easy matter to keep him
in sight. One day he was squatting
under a snow-covered hemlock bough
when he was startled by the howl of
Mr. Wolf not far away. In his fright he
jumped up, and the next thing he knew
down came the snow from the bough
all over him. Then, to his dismay, he
saw Mr. Lynx not two jumps away. He
sat still from force of habit. Mr. Lynx
didn't see him; he went right past
Presently Mr. Wolf came along, and he
went right past.
" Mr. Hare was puzzled. Then he
just happened to glance at his coat. He
was white with snow from head to foot !
Then he understood, and a great idea
popped into his head. If only he could
MR. HARE BECOMES A TURNCOAT 157
have a brown coat in summer and a
white coat in winter, he felt sure that
he could take care of himself. He
thought about it a great deal. Finally
he screwed up his courage and went to
Old Mother Nature. He told her all
about how he had learned to sit tight
when he wasn't seen, but that it didn't
always succeed w T hen there was snow on
the ground. Then he told her how Mr.
Lynx and Mr. Wolf had run right past
him the time he was covered with snow.
Very timidly he asked Old Mother Na-
ture if she thought it possible that he
might have a white coat in winter.
Old Mother Nature said that she would
think about it. It was almost the end
of winter then, and he heard nothing
from Old Mother Nature. With the
coming of summer he quite forgot his
request. But Old Mother Nature didn't.
She kept an eye on Mr. Hare and she
158 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
saw how timid he was and how he was
in constant danger from his hungry
neighbors. With the beginning of the
next winter, Mr. Hare discovered one
day that his coat was turning white.
He watched it day by day and saw it
grow whiter and whiter until it was as
white as the snow itself. Then he knew
that Old Mother Nature had not for-
gotten his request and at once hastened
to thank her. And from that day to
this, the Hares have had brown coats in
summer and white coats in winter/
concluded Grandfather Frog.
" Oh, thank you, Grandfather Frog,'
cried Peter with a little sigh of content-
ment. " I I wish I could catch a fool-
ish green fly for you.'
"Ill take the will for the deed,
Peter,' replied Grandfather Frog.
And he suddenly snapped up a foolish
green fly that flew too near.
XII
WHEN GREAT-GRANDFATHER SWIFT
FIRST USED A CHIMNEY
XII
WHEN GREAT-GRANDFATHER SWIFT FIRST
USED A CHIMNEY
OP all his feathered friends and
neighbors there was none
whom Peter Babbit enjoyed
watching more than he did Sooty the
Chimney Swift. There were two very
good reasons why Peter enjoyed watch-
ing Sooty. In the first place Sooty al-
ways appeared to be having the very
best of good times, and you know it is
always a pleasure to watch any one
having a good time. OP Mistah Buz-
zard, sailing and sailing high in the
sky with only an occasional movement
of his great wings, always seemed to be
enjoying himself, and so did Skimmer
162 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
the Swallow, skimming just above the
tall grass of the Green Meadows or
wheeling gracefully high in the air.
But neither these two nor any other
bird ever seemed to Peter to be getting
so much real fun out of flying as Sooty
the Swift. Just to hear him shout as
he raced with swiftly beating wings
and then glided in a short half circle
was enough to make you want to fly
yourself, thought Peter.
The second reason why Peter enjoyed
watching Sooty was that he was very
much a bird of mystery, in spite of the
fact that Peter saw him every day
through the long summer. You know,
we all enjoy anything that is mysteri-
ous. To Peter there was no end of
mystery about Sooty the Swift. He
was not like other birds. In the first
place he hardly looked like a bird at all.
His tail was so short that it was hardly
MR. SWIFT USES A CHIMNEY 108
worth calling a tail. His neck was so
short that his head seemed a part of his
body. And then in all the time he had
known him, Peter never had seen Sooty
still for a single instant. 01' Mistah
Buzzard would come down from high
up in the blue, blue sky and sit for hours
on a dead tree in the Green Forest or
walk about 011 tlie ground. Skimmer
the Swallow would sit on the branch of
a tree, or 011 the very top of Farmer
Brown's barn, and twitter sociably.
But Sooty the Swift was always in the
air. At least, he always was whenever
Peter saw hina.
Sometimes Peter used to wonder if
Sooty slept in the air as Ducks sleep on
the water. Of course, he didn't really
think that he did, but never seeing him
anywhere but in the air, he was ready
* ,
to believe almost anything. Then one
/ o
evening just at dusk, Peter happened
164 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
to be over in the Old Orchard close by
Farmer Brown's house, and he saw
something that puzzled him more than
ever. He saw Sooty the Swift right
above the chimney on Farmer Brown's
house. It seemed to Peter as if some-
thing happened to Sooty. He beat his
wings in a queer way, but instead of
flying on, he dropped right straight
down, down, down, and disappeared.
He had fallen down that chimney!
Peter waited a long time, but Sooty
didn't appear again, and finally Peter
went home with the feeling that he
never again would see Sooty.
But he did see him again. He saw
him the very next day, flying and shout-
ing and seemingly having just as good
a time as ever. It was then that Peter's
curiosity would no longer be denied.
He headed straight for the Smiling
Pool to consult Grandfather Frog.
MR. SWIFT USES A CHIMNEY
" He'll know all about Sooty if any-
body does/ thought Peter and hurried
as fast as he could, lipperty-lipperty-
lip. Grandfather Frog was in his usual
place on his big green lily-pad. One
glance told Peter that Grandfather
Frog was in the best of humor, so he
wasted no time.
" Grandfather Frog," cried Peter be-
fore he was fairly on the bank of the
Smiling Pool, " I saw something queer
last night, and you are the only one I
know of who can tell me what it meant,
because you are the only one I know
who knows all about everything.'
Grandfather Frog smiled. It w^as a
great, big, broad smile. It pleased him
to have Peter say that he knew every-
thing. " Chug-a-rum! Not every-
thing, Peter! I don't know everything.
Nobody does," said he. " But if I hap-
pen to know what you want to know ?
166 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
I'll be glad to tell you. Now what is it
that is on your mind? :
Peter at once plunged into his story.
He told Grandfather Frog how much
he enjoyed watching Sooty fly and how
little he knew about Sooty. He wound
up by telling how he had seen Sooty
fall down that chimney and how sur-
prised he had been to see Sooty about
the next day as well and happy as ever.
\
He called Sooty a Swallow, for that is
what Peter thought that Sooty was.
He always had thought so.
When Peter had finished, Grand-
father Frog chuckled. It was a long,
deep chuckle that seemed to come clear
from his toes. When he had enjoyed
his chuckle to his heart's content, he
looked up at Peter and blinked his
great goggly eyes.
" What would you say, Peter, if I
should tell you that Sooty isn't a mem-
MR. SWIFT USES A CHIMNEY 167
ber of the Swallow family at all? : tie
asked.
" I'd believe you," replied Peter
promptly, " but I never again would
dare guess what family anybody be-
longed to from his looks.'
66 Well, Sooty isn't a Swallow at all,"
said Grandfather Frog slowly. " He
is a Swift, which is another family
altogether. Furthermore, he didn't fall
down that chimney. No, Sir, he didn't
fall down that chimney. He flew down,
and he did it because he lives there.
Now listen, and I'll tell you a story."
Peter needed no second invitation.
A story from Grandfather Fros; is
t/ C3
always one of Peter's greatest treats,
as you know.
/
" Chug-a-rum! began Grandfather
Frog, as he always does. " When Old
Mother Nature first peopled the Great
World, she made each bird a little dif-
168 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
ferent from every other bird, and each
animal a little different from everv
/
other animal. Then she turned them
loose to make their way the best they
could, and let them alone to test them
and see how each would make the best
of his advantages. Mr. Swift, the
great - great - ever-so - great - grandfather
of Sooty, felt at first as if Old Mother
Nature had forgotten to give him any
advantages at all. He was homelv.
<_J V
There wasn't so much as a single bright
feather in his whole coat. He had a tail
which might as well have been no tail
at all, so far as he could see. He had
tiny feet on which he couldn't walk at
all, and with which it was all he could
do to hang on to a twig when he wanted
to rest. But when it came to wings, he
wasn't long in discovering that in these
he was blessed beyond most of his
neighbors. Those wings certainly were
MR. SWIFT USES A CHIMNEY 169
made for speed. They were long and
narrow, and they drove him through
the air faster than his neighbors with
broader wings could fly and with a great
deal less effort. He could fly all day
without getting tired, and he never was
so happy as when darting about high
in the air.
" Of course, it didn't take him long
to find out that he could catch all kinds
of flying insects, and so he had no
trouble in filling his stomach while fly-
ing, for his mouth was very wide. ' It
must be, ' thought he, ' that Old Mother
Nature expects me to live in the air. I
wish I could sleep while I am flying, but
I can't. I never feel comfortable sit-
ting on a twig.'
" One day he discovered that he
could do something that no other bird
could do. By using his wings in a cer-
tain way he could drop right straight
170 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
down without really falling. He prac-
tised this a great deal just for fun.
Then one day as he was flying over a
rocky place, he saw right under him a
great hole that went straight down into
the ground. It interested him. He
wondered what it was like inside. The
more he wondered, the more he wanted
to find out. So one day, after many
trials, he dropped straight down into
the hole by means of that new way of
flying he had discovered.
" He didn't go very far down, be-
cause it was so dark in there, and he
w r as beginning to get a w r ee bit fright-
ened. On his way up he brushed against
the side of the rocky wall and without
knowing why, he put out both feet and
clung to it, folding his wings for a
minute's rest. Then he found that by
pressing his funny little tail, which
ended in sharp spines, against the wall,
MR. SWIFT USES A CHIMNEY 171
he rested more comfortably than ever
he had before in all his short life. He
could cling to a rough wall very much
easier than he could sit on a perch.
After that he spent his nights in that
hole and was happy.
" A long time later he was far from
home when night was coming on, and
he knew that he wouldn't be able to
get there before dark. Looking down
as he flew, he saw the hollow trunk of a
great tree which had been broken off by
the wind. Why not sleep in that? He
circled over it two or three times and
then dropped straight down inside. He
liked it. He liked it better than he did
the hole in the rocks. After that he
made his home in a hollow tree.
" In course of time old King Eagle
led the birds to a new part of the Great
World which Old Mother Nature had
been preparing for them to spend the
172 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
summer in. Mr. Swift went with the
others. But when he got there, he could
find no hole in the ground and no hol-
low tree. But he found something else.
He found the queer homes of men and
on top of each a straight, tall thing
quite like a hollow tree, only all black
inside and made of what seemed like
stone. Having no other place to go, he
tried one of them. The next day he
searched for a hollow tree but could
find none, and so returned to that chim-
ney, for that is what it was. So it was
every day. After a little he began to
like the chimney. It was easy to get in
and out of. No one ever bothered him
there. It was easy to cling to the wall
of it. At last he decided to build a nest
there. And from that day to this, the
Swifts have lived in the chimneys on
the houses of men. When you thought
you saw Sooty fall, he was simply going
MR. SWIFT USES A CHIMNEY 173
home to spend the night/' concluded
Grandfather Frog.
" Thank you/ replied Peter with a
long sigh, " It's a funny world, isn't
it, Grandfather Frog ? The idea of liv-
ing in a chimney! The very idea!
XIII
WHEN PETER RABBIT FIRST MET
BLUFFER THE ADDER
XIII
WHEN PETER RABBIT FIRST MET BLUFFER
THE ADDER
HOPPITY-SKIP down the
Crooked Little Path, lipper-
ty-lipperty-lip, went Peter
Rabbit in his usual heedless, careless
way. Peter never can seem to get it
into his funny little head why he should
be careful when there appears to be no
particular reason for being careful. He
is like a great many people careful
w r hen he knows that there is danger
near, but as heedless as you please when
he thinks that all is safe. He has got
to see or hear danger before he will be-
lieve that it is near. Like a lot of other
178 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
folks he lias yet to wake up to the fact
that the only way to keep out of trouble
is to be always prepared for trouble.
So Peter hopped and skipped down
the Crooked Little Path, as he had a
thousand times before, without a
thought of danger. Nothing ever had
happened to him on the Crooked Little
Path, and so he thought nothing ever
could. Suddenly as he rounded a little
turn, there was a sound that made Peter
stop so suddenly that he almost fell
over backward a sound that made
every hair on his body stand on end and
his eyes pop out with fright. It was a
hiss, the loudest, most awful hiss he
ever had heard. For just a second
Peter was too frightened to move.
There, coiled up right in the Crooked
Little Path, was a member of the Snake
family whom he never had seen before.
And such a fierce, ugly-looking fellow
PETER MEETS BLUFFER 179
as he was! No wonder Peter was
frightened. This Snake had the flattest
head Peter ever had seen. His body
was rather short and thick, and his
neck was flattened in a way that made
it appear very large and gave to him
a very ugly and dangerous look.
As soon as he could get his wits to-
gether, Peter turned and raced pell-
mell up the Crooked Little Path as fast
as his long legs would take him. Look-
ing behind him he didn't see in front
of him, and so he almost ran into
Jimmy Skunk. In fact, he would have,
if Jimmy hadn't cried:
" Hi, there! Why don't you look
where you are going? What is the mat-
ter with you, anyway, Peter Babbit? "
Peter was so startled by Jimmy that
he jumped to one side as if he suddenly
had stepped on something hot. Then
he saw who it was. " Oh, Jimmy,' he
180 MCTI;I:I; WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
cried, " you mustn't go down the
Crooked Little Path! "
" Why not? ! demanded Jimmy
Skunk, staring at Peter and noting how
frightened Peter was.
" Because,' panted Peter, " right
down there in the middle of it is one of
Mr. Black Snake's cousins, and I know
by his looks that he is one of the dan-
gerous kind, like Buzztail the Rattler.
Ugh! I nearly ran into him, and he
hissed enough to make your hair rise.
He's got a terrible temper. I wouldn't
go near him again for the world. Where
are you going, Jimmy? ;
" Down the Crooked Little Path to
have a look at this terrible fellow,' ' re-
plied Jimmy over his shoulder. ' i Per-
haps I can teach him some manners. '
" Oh, Jimmy, do be careful! ' begged
Peter. " He really is very terrible. I
know his bite must be awful. I guess
PETER MEETS BLUFFER 181
it is worse than that of Buzztail the
Rattler. I wouldn't go if I were you.'
" I'm not such a fraidy as you,
Peter/ replied Jimmy Skunk, and
ambled on down the Crooked Little
Path. Peter wasn't sure about it, but
he thought he heard Jimmy chuckle.
That settled matters for Peter. If
Jimmy was laughing at him for warn-
ing him of danger, he could just go
on and get a good fright. It would
serve him right. Peter hesitated a
minute, then at a safe distance he fol-
lowed. He wanted to see Jimmy Skunk
when he rounded that little turn in the
Crooked Little Path and heard that
terrible hiss.
Jimmy ambled along slowly, for you
know he never hurries. Presentlv he
i/
disappeared around that little turn, and
right away Peter heard that terrible
hiss. He expected to see Jimmy corne
182 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
racing back, and he was all ready to
make fun of him for pretending to be
so brave. But Jimmy didn't come.
Once more Peter heard that angry hiss
and felt his hair rise on end. Then all
was still.
Peter waited as long as he could stand
it, and then his curiosity got the best
of him. Slowly and carefully he tip-
toed along until he could see around
the turn in the Crooked Little Path.
What he saw quite took his breath
away. There sat Jimmy Skunk looking
down at something stretched out at his
feet. It was that dreadful Snake on
his back, and he appeared to be quite
dead. Jimmy reached out and poked
him, but Mr. Snake didn't move.
Jimmy poked him some more, and still
he didn't move.
" Oh, Jimmy, however did you dare
to try to kill him? : cried Peter.
Jimmy reached out and poked him, but Mr. Snake
didn't move. Page 182,
PETER MEETS BLUFFER 183
Jimmy looked back at Peter and
grinned. " Come on with, me, and I
will tell you a story, ' ' said he.
Peter hesitated, but the thought of
a story was too much, for liim, and he
followed Jimmy down the Crooked
/
Little Path, taking pains to go around
the body of Mr. Snake and not very
near it at that, although he knew it was
silly and foolish to be afraid of one who
was dead. Jimmy didn't go far. He
sat down and waited for Peter to join
him. From where they were they could
see the body of Mr. Snake stretched
out on its back in the Crooked Little
Path. Somehow, now that he was dead,
Mr. Snake didn't look so very fierce
and terrible. In fact he didn't look
nearly so big as he had when he was
alive. Peter w r as thinking of this when
his heart gave a funny little jump. He
had turned his head for just a second
184 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
and now, as he looked back at Mr.
Snake, lie felt that his eyes must be
playing him tricks for Mr. Snake was
on his stomach instead of on his back!
Peter opened his mouth to say some-
thing, but Jimmy made a sign to keep
still. So Peter kept still and with pop-
ping eyes watched Mr. Snake. Pres-
ently he saw Mr. Snake's head come up
a little at a time and then move from
side to side as if Mr. Snake were look-
ing to see that the way was clear.
Slowly Mr. Snake began to glide for-
ward. Then, as if satisfied that no one
was watching, he moved faster as if
in a hurry to get away from there, and
in a moment he disappeared.
Peter gulped two or three times as if
trying to swallow the truth and then
turned to stare at Jimmy Skunk.
Jimmy laughed right out because Peter
looked so funny.
PETER MEETS BLUFFER 185
" Youyou didn't kill him, after
all," gasped Peter.
' l N"o ? ' ' replied Jimmy, ' ' I didn 't
even touch him until you saw me poke
him when he lay there on his back.'
Peter looked quite as puzzled as he
felt. " Was he just pretending to be
dead the way Unc ' Billy Possum does ?'
demanded Peter.
Jimmy nodded. " You've guessed
it,' he replied.
" But why did he do it? " persisted
Peter, such a puzzled look on his face
that Jimmy just had to laugh again.
" Because he was afraid and tried to
fool me into thinking him dead so that
I would leave him alone,' replied
Jimmy.
" Afraid! That fellow afraid! " ex-
claimed Peter in an unbelieving tone
of voice. " Why, when I saw him
first, he was the most savage, danger-
186 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
ous-looking fellow that ever I have
met."
Once more Jimmy laughed. " All
in his looks, Peter," said he. "Yes,
Sir, all his fierceness is in his looks.
Keally he is one of the most harmless
and gentle fellows in the world. He
tried to scare me just as he frightened
you, and when he found it wouldn't
work, he tried the other plan pre-
tended that he was dead. No one but
Old Mr. Toad has the least reason in
the world to be afraid of him. All his
fierceness is just pretending, and that
is how he comes by his name, which is
Bluffer the Puff- Adder. I'm surprised
that you've never happened to meet
fm before. I believe some folks call
him the Hoff-nosed Snake. I alwavs
.'
like to meet him just to see him try to
scare me, and when he finds he can't,
I do a little pretending myself and give
PETER MEETS BLUFFER 187
him a little scare by pretending tliat I
am going to fight him. Then he always
rolls over on his back and pretends that
he is dead. I suppose he is chuckling to
himself now because he thinks that he
fooled us. The next time you meet him
just show him that you know he is per-
fectly harmless and see how quickly
he '11 stop pretending that he is so ugly
and dangerous. He learned that trick
of bluffing from his father, and his
father learned it from his father, and
go on way back to the days when the
world was young. I would tell you the
story now if I had time, but I haven't/
" Then you'll have to do it some other
time," retorted Peter, " for I shall give
you no peace until you do. '
XIV
WHEN MR. WOOD MOUSE LEARNED
FROM THE BIRDS
XIV
WHEN MR. WOOD MOUSE LEARNED FRCttl
THE BIRDS
ETER EABBIT never will for-
get the first time that he saw
Whitefoot the Wood Mouse pop
out of a nest in a bush a few feet above
his head. It wasn't so much the sur-
prise of seeing Whitefoot as it was the
discovery that that nest was White-
foot's own. Peter, had seen that nest
often. It was in a bush just a little
above one of Peter's favorite paths on
the edge of the Green Forest. Always
he had supposed that it belonged to one
of his feathered friends. He had seen
many such nests. At least, he supposed
192 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
lie had. That was because he hadn't
taken the trouble to look at this one
particularly. He hadn't used his eves.
If he had, he might have seen that this,
while very like other nests he had seen,
was different. It was different in that
it had a roof. Yes, Sir, this particular
nest had a roof. And it had a doorway,
a very small doorway, and this doorway
was underneath, a very queer place for
a bird to make a doorway had there
been any bird of his acquaintance who
would build a roof to a nest, anyway.
All of which goes to show how easy it
is to see things without really seeing
them at all.
It was just at dusk that Peter hap-
pened along this particular little path
and saw Whitefoot the Wood Mouse
pop out of that nest.
" Hello! " exclaimed Peter. " What
are you doing up there ? What business
MR. WOOD MOUSE'S NEST 193
have you in that nest? Have you been
/stealing eggs? '
" No, I haven't been stealing eggs,'
retorted Whitefoot indignantly. " And
if I haven't any business in this nest I
should like to know who has. It's mv
^
nest! Who has a better right in it? :
" Your nest! exclaimed Peter.
" Why, I thought you lived in a hollow
tree or a hollow log or a hole in the
ground or some such place. How long
is it since you learned to build a nest
like a bird, and who taught you?
Whitefoot knew by the tone of
Peter's voice that Peter didn't believe
a word of what he had been told. He
looked very hard at Peter, and in his
big, soft, black eyes was an indignant
look which Peter couldn't help but see.
" I don't care whether you believe it
or not, this is my nest, and I built it,'
said he indignantly. " At least I built
194 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
it over/ he added, for Whitefoot is
very truthful. " In the winter I do
live in a hollow tree or a hollow log or
a hole in the ground, whichever is most
comfortable, but in the warm weather
I have a summer home, and this is it.
My f amity has known how to build such
homes ever since the days of my great-
great-ever-so - great - grandfather when
the world was young. It was he who
learned the secret, and it has been in
our family ever since. '
Peter's long ears stood straight up
with excited interest and curiosity.
' ' Tell me about it ! ' ' he begged. < ' Tell
me how your great-great-ever-so-great-
grandfather learned how to build a nest
like a bird. Please tell me, White-
foot."
"Whitef oot sat up and daintily washed
his pretty white hands. " I don't think
I will,' he replied slowly. " You
MR. WOOD MOUSE'S NEST 195
didn't believe me when I said that this
nest is mine, and so I'm sure you won't
believe the story of my great-grand-
father. I don't like telling stories to
people who don't believe.'
" But I will believe it! ' cried Peter.
u If you say it is true, I'll believe every
word of it. Please tell me the story,
Whitefoot. Oh, please do." Peter was
very much in earnest. " I'm sorry I
didn't believe you at first when you
said that this nest is yours. But I do
now, Whitefoot. I do now. Please,
please tell me the story."
Whitefoot 's black eyes snapped and
twinkled. He enjoyed being teased for
that story. You see, he is such a little
fellow, such a very little fellow, that
his bigger neighbors seldom take any
notice of him unless it is to try to catch
him. There are several who would be
glad to swallow Whitefoot if they could
196 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
catch Mm. So, being such a little fel-
low, he felt rather puffed up, rather im-
portant, you know, that Peter Rabbit
should be so interested and should ac-
tually be begging him for a story. He
climbed up to a crotch in a tree just a
little above Peter's head, a place where
he could watch out for danger, made
himself comfortable with his back
against the trunk of the tree, carefully
combed his fur, for Whitefoot is very
particular how he looks, and then began
his story.
u Always, ever since the world was
young, Mice have been among the
smallest of the little people of the Green
Meadows and the Green Forest, and
because of this they have had to live by
their wits if they would live at all. In
the beginning of things it was not so, I
"have heard it said, because then there
was plenty for all to eat and no cause
MR. WOOD MOUSE'S NEST 197
for the big and strong to seek to kill the
small and weak. But when the hard
times came and hunger led to the doing
of many dreadful things, all of the
Mouse tribe found that they were in
danger all the time, just as they are
to-day.
" My great-great-great-grandfather,
the first of all the Wood Mice, chose
the Green Forest for his home instead
of the Green Meadows where his cousin,
old Mr. Meadow Mouse, liked best to
live. He chose the Green Forest be-
cause it was always beautiful there, and
because among the roots of the trees
and in the trees themselves there were
so many hiding-places. He was very
small, just as I am, and he was very
smart. ?
: Just as you are? : inquired Peter
with a twinkle in his eyes.
" I didn't say that! " retorted White-
198 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
i
foot indignantly. " I never have
claimed to be very smart, though I've
been smart enough to keep out of the
clutches of Reddy Fox and Hooty the
Owl and all the others who hunt me.
But great-great-great-grandfather was
smart. In the Green Forest he had pre-
pared for himself many hiding-places.
Some were in the ground, some were in
holes in trees, and some were in hollow
stumps and logs. For a while he felt
quite safe and easy in his mind, even
when the times had become so hard and
food so scarce that night and day some
of his big neighbors like Mr. Lynx and
Mr. Fox and Mr. Wolf and Mr. Owl
and Mr. Hawk and even old King Bear
were sure to come prowling about
looking for little people like himself.
You see, he had plenty to eat himself
because he had been forehanded and
had stored away seeds in some of his
MR. WOOD MOUSE'S NEST 199
hiding-places. And he felt perfectly
safe because the doorways to his hiding-
places were so very small that none of
these people could follow him into
them.
" So he used to laugh at those who
hunted him and sometimes would dodge
into one of his little doorways right un-
der their very noses. But one day he
saw old King Bear tear open an old
hollow stump with his great claws, and
he knew that King Bear was looking
for him. Another day quite by chance
he happened to see Mr. Weasel slip into
one of his smallest doorways, and then
a great fear took hold of Grandfather
Wood Mouse. His enemies knew now
where to look for him and how to get
into his hiding-places; they were no
longer safe.
" ' I must find a new hiding-place and
keep it a secret,' thought he. For many
'200 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
days he went about, thinking and
thinking. One day he had this very
much on his mind as he watched Mr.
Catbird build a nest. All in a flash a
great idea came to him. If he could
have a home in a bush like that of Mr.
Catbird, no one ever, ever would think
of looking for him there ! ' If birds can
build nests, why can't I? ' thought he.
All that day he watched the building of
Mr. Catbird's nest, trying to see just
how each stick was placed and how the
nest was lined with fine roots and grass
and strips of grapevine bark. The next
day he hunted up some old nests in
bushes not too high above the ground
and climbed up to them. He even pulled
some of them to pieces to see how they
were made and then tried to put them
together again.
" ' I believe I can do it! he ex-
claimed over and over to himself. ' I
MR. WOOD MOUSE'S NEST 201
believe I can do it ! Anyway, it will do
no harm to try. No harm can come of
trying. '
" He remembered an old nest in a
bramble bush not far from where he
lived. This he examined very care-
fully. It would do for a foundation.
Then he went to work, taking care to
build only when no one was near to dis-
cover his secret. He brought grass and
fine roots, and he made that nest more
comfortable than it had been when it
was first built. Then he built a roof
over it, so that it would shelter him in
bad weather, and to get into it he made
a little round doorway. When it was
finished, he was very proud of it, as he
had reason to be. He carried seeds into
it, and then he made it his home for the
summer and way into the fall. Of
course, no one ever dreamed of looking
him in what seemed like a bird's
202 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
nest, and many a time lie peeped out
and watched his hungry neighbors walk
right under him without ever suspect-
ing that he was near.
" Of course, he taught his children
the secret of nest-building which he had
learned from the birds, and that has
been the most precious secret in our
family ever since. You w r on't tell any
one, will you, Peter? he concluded
anxiously.
" No," said Peter, " I won't tell any
one. Of course I won't. It must be
nice to have a sort of sky-parlor in the
summer,' he added wistfully.
" It is," replied Whitefoot. " I just
love my summer home.' With this he
climbed up to his snug nest, and the last
Peter saw of him was his long slim tail
disappearing through the little round
doorway.
XV
WHEN MR. HUMMINGBIRD GOT HIS
LONG BILL
XV
WHEN MR. HUMMINGBIRD GOT HIS LONG
BILL
"I saw him here; I saw him there;
And now he is not anywhere!
He is not there; he is not here,
Yet no one saw him disappear."
ETER RABBIT didn't intend
that for any ears but his own,
but it never is safe to talk out
loud if you want no one else to hear.
" Huh! said a voice right back of
Peter. Peter started ever so little and
hastily turned his head, but saw no one.
66 Huh! said the voice again.
" Huh! Are you a poet, Peter Rab-
bit? "
it
it
206 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
This time Peter turned wholly
around in a single jump. Staring up
at him from under a mullein-leaf was
Old Mr. Toad.
What's a poet? demanded Peter.
A poet is some one who who -
Say, Peter Rabbit, have you eaten
something that went to your head?
Old Mr. Toad looked really anxious.
" No,' replied Peter, " it went to
my stomach. Everything I eat goes to
my stomach.'
" Then it can't be that you are a real
poet," sighed Old Mr. Toad. " I was a
little afraid you might be when I over-
heard you just now. On the whole I
am rather glad, Peter. It would be so
tiresome to have to listen to you talk-
ing that way. By the way, who is it
that is not there and is not here, yet no
one saw him disappear?
" Hummer the Hummingbird,' re-
MR. HUMMINGBIRD'S LONG BILL 207
plied Peter eagerly. " You see Mm in
one place and before you can get your
mouth open to speak, lie is somewhere
else. Then in a shake of your tail he
isn't anywhere at all. I mean he isn't
anywhere in sight.'
" I haven't any tail," retorted Old
Mr. Toad rather testily. " I got rid of
the silly thing long ago, as you very
well know, Peter Rabbit."
" Excuse me, Mr. Toad. I didn't
mean anything personal. It was just a
way of speaking to show how quickly
Hummer disappears. I was thinking
of my own tail,' said Peter.
" Huh! " grunted Old Mr. Toad just
as before. " Then you weren't thinking
of much.'
Peter laughed. " Not so very much,"
he replied. " Still I can shake it, even
if there isn't much of it. See! " He
stood up and twitched his funny little
208 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
tail until solemn Old Mr. Toad had to
laugh in spite of himself.
u Hummer is such a wonderful little
fellow," continued Peter eagerly. " He
is so tiny it doesn't seem possible that
he can be like other birds. I don't feel
really acquainted with him because he
isn't still long enough for me to more
than nod to him.'
66 That's true," replied Old Mr. Toad,
nodding sagely. " He isn't still down
near the ground, but if you happened
to find his home, you would often see
him sitting near it as still as any other
bird. By the way, Peter, did you ever
hear how it happened that he comes by
such a long bill ? ' '
" A story! " cried Peter, jumping up
and down and clapping his hands. " Oh,
Mr. Toad, I never did hear, and I'm just
dying to know. Please do tell me!
There was a twinkle in Old Mr.
MR. HUMMINGBIRD'S LONG BILL 209
Toad's beautiful eyes,- -for they really
are beautiful, you know. He backed
a little farther under the big mullein-
leaf where the sun couldn't reach him,
opened and closed his big mouth two
or three times without making a sound,
rolled his eyes back as if he were look-
ing way, way into the past, and then,
just as Peter had begun to think that
there wasn't going to be any story after
all, he began to talk in a funny little
voice that seemed to come from wav
v
down where his throat and his stomach
meet.
" It was long, long, long ago/ said
he.
" I know! It was way back when the
world was young,' interrupted Peter
eagerly.
" Oh! So you know the story after
all, do you? " grunted Old Mr. Toad
rather crossly.
210 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
66 1 beg your pardon. I do indeed.
I'm sorry," Peter hastened to say.
" Very well. Very well," grumbled
Old Mr. Toad, " but don't do it again.
Now I'll have to begin all over again.
It was a long, long, long time ago in the
beginning of things when Old Mother
Nature had made all the big birds and
the middle-sized birds and the little
birds that she discovered that she had
just a teeny, w r eeny bit of the things
birds are made of left over. There
wasn't enough to make even the head
of an ordinary bird. No bird had use
for another head, anyway.
" Now Old Mother Nature never
could bear to waste anything, and she
didn't intend to begin. So she made a
teeny, weeny bird and she made him
just as perfect as any other bird. She
gave him feathers just like any other
bird, only of course his feathers were
MR. HUMMINGBIRD'S LONG BILL 211
teeny, weeny. She gave him a tail just
like any other bird, only it was a teeny,
weeny tail. She gave him feet with
toes and claws just like any other bird,
only they were teeny, weeny feet. And
she gave him a bill, only it was a teeny,
weeny bill and it was short. And be-
cause he was so teeny, weeny and yet
a perfect bird, Old Mother Nature was
very proud of him, so she gave him a
beautiful green coat. The beautiful
ruby throat was not given him until
later, when he proved so brave of heart
and so loyal to King Eagle, you remem-
ber."
' ' I remember, ' 9 said Peter. l i He got
his ruby throat when old King Eagle
won his crown of white.'
" When Old Mother Nature sent
little Mr. Hummingbird out into the
Great World to join the other birds, she
told him that tiny as he was she could
212 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
treat him no differently from the others,
and that he would have to take care of
himself and prove that he was worthy
to live and have a place in the work of
the Great World, for that was a law
which she could not break for aiiv one,
/
great or small.
" So little Mr. Hummingbird darted
away to join the other birds and find a
place for himself in the Great World.
When the other birds first saw him,
they laughed at him because he was so
tiny, and made fun of him. though truth
to tell some of them were envious be-
cause of his beautiful coat, and others
were envious because of the way in
which he could dart about, for not one
among them could fly so swiftly as little
Mr. Hummingbird.
" Tiny though he was, he was stout
of heart and fairly bursting with
spunk. He would dash into the very
MR. HUMMINGBIRD'S LONG BILL 213
faces of those who tried to tease him
and would be away again before they
could so much as strike at him. So it
wasn't long before they let him alone,
though among themselves they still
looked on him as a joke and were sure
he would not live long. Being such a
teeny, weeny fellow, of course Mr.
Hummingbird had a teeny, weeny
stomach, and he soon discovered that
he couldn't eat the things that other
birds did but must hunt for teeny,
V >
weeny things. It didn't take him long
to find out that there were many teeny,
weeny insects just suited to him,
especially about the flowers. So Mr.
Hummingbird spent most of his time
darting about among the flowers catch-
ing teeny, weeny insects to fill his
teeny, weeny stomach.
" One day he paused in front of a
deep-throated flower and discovered
214 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
that many teeny, weeny insects had
hidden in the heart of it. Try as he
would he could not reach them. Now
his own swift little wings were not
quicker than Mr. Hummingbird's tem-
per, and he promptly pulled that flower
to pieces. Then he caught all the in-
sects, and in doing this he discovered
that in the heart of the flower were
sweet juices, better than anything he
ever had tasted before. . After that he
wasted no time hunting for teeny,
weeny insects in the air, but darted
from one deep-throated flower to an-
other, pulling them to pieces and fill-
ing his teeny, weeny stomach with the
insects hiding there and the sweet
juices.
" One day along came Old Mother
Nature to see how things were going.
On every side were beautiful flowers
torn to rags. She threw up her hands
MR. HUMMINGBIRD'S LONG BILL 215
in dismay. ' Dear me! she cried. '
wonder who can have been doing such
dreadful mischief! '
" Just then she caught sight of little
Mr. Hummingbird tearing another
flower to pieces. Sternly she called him
before her, and he came fearlessly.
' Why are you tearing my beautiful
flowers to pieces? ' she demanded.
" ' Because it is the only way I can
get the food in the hearts of them, and
it is the food best suited to me,' replied
little Mr. Hummingbird promptly but
respectfully.
" Old Mother Nature tried to look
severe, but a twinkle crept into her
eyes. Secretly she was pleased with
the fearlessness of the teeny, weeny
bird.
" ' That may be, but I cannot have
my beautiful flowers destroyed this
way. It will never do at all! ? said she.
216 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
She scratched her head thoughtfully for
a few minutes. Then she reached out
and took hold of Mr. Hummingbird's
teeny, weeny bill. i Pull,' said she.
Little Mr. Hummingbird pulled with
all his might, and his bill was pulled
out until it was long and slender, and
Ms tongue was pulled out long with it.
" ' Now,' said Old Mother Nature,
I guess you won't have to pull my
flowers to pieces.'
" Little Mr. Hummingbird darted
away to the nearest deep-throated
flower and found that he could reach
the teeny, weeny insects and the sweet
juices without the least trouble, and
from that time on he took the greatest
care not to hurt the beautiful flowers.
That is how Hummer, whom vou know.
*/
happens to have a long bill, ' ' concluded
Old Mr. Toad.
i l And I suppose that is why he seems
MR. HUMMINGBIRD'S LONG BILL 217
to love the flowers so/ said Peter
as lie looked down at Old Mr. Toad
thoughtfully.
"It is," replied Old Mr. Toad, and
yawned sleepily.
XVI
WHEN OLD MR. BAT GOT HIS WINGS
XVI
WHEN OLD MR. BAT GOT HIS WINGS
IT happens that the Merry Little
Breezes, who, as you know, are
the children of Old Mother West
Wind, are quite as fond of stories as is
Peter Rabbit. In fact, whenever they
suspect that Peter is going to ask some
one for a story, they manage to be about
so that they may hear it too. Now the
t/ /
Merry Little Breezes are very fond of
Grandfather Frog and many, many
times they have helped him get a good
dinner by blowing foolish green flies
within his reach. It was after one of
these times that Grandfather Frog
promised them a story.
Now the Merry Little Breezes did not
222 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
intend to let Grandfather Frog forget
that promise, so one afternoon when
they had grown tired of romping on the
Green Meadows, they danced over to
the Smiling Pool and settled around
the big, green lily-pad on which Grand-
father Frog was dozing. All together
they shouted:
" We know you're old;
We know you're wise;
And what you say
We dearly prize.
So tell a tale
Of olden days,
And then, mayhap,
We'll go our ways."
" Chug-a-rum! "What shall it be
about? : demanded Grandfather Frog,
waking up quite good-natured.
" Tell us why Flitter the Bat can fly
when none of the other animals can,'
cried one of the Merry Little Breezes.
Grandfather Frog cleared his throat
WHEN MR. BAT GOT WINGS 223
several times, and then tie began, and
this is the story he told:
" Once upon a time when the world
was young, old Mr. Bat, the many times
great-grandfather of Flitter, whom you
all know, lived in a cave on the edge of
the Green Forest. Old Mr. Bat was
little, quite as little as Flitter is now.
He didn't have any wings then. No,
Sir, old Mr. Bat had no wings.
" NOW T old Mr. Bat's teeth were small
and not made for cracking hard seeds
and things of that sort, so he lived
mostly on insects. He used to hunt for
them under sticks and stones. Some-
times he had hard work to find enough
for a meal, because, you know, so many
other Green Forest people were hunt-
ing for them too.
" Now old Mr. Bat's eyes were very
small, very, very small indeed, and the
bright sun hurt them. So old Mr. Bat
224 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
used to stay in his cave all day and
hunt for his meals only after jolly Mr.
Sun had gone to bed behind the Purple
Hills. When he did come out. most of
the crawling bugs had been caught by
others, and it was hard work finding
them. So often Mr. Bat went hungry.
" One evening old Mr. Bat noticed
that at twilight a great many bugs fly
about. He sat on a big stone at the
mouth of his cave and watched. It
seemed to him that the air was full of
bugs. By and by a big fat fellow came
so near that old Mr. Bat forgot where
he was and jumped for him- -jumped
right off the top of the big stone. Of
course he got a hard tumble, but he
didn't mind it a bit, not a bit, for he
had caught the bug. After that, old
Mr. Bat used to spend most of the
time he was awake jumping for flying
bugs.
WHEN MR. BAT GOT WINGS 225
" One night he made a very long
jump from a very high stone and got
such a fall that all the breath was
knocked out of his funny little body.
When he had gotten his breath back he
discovered that some one was looking
down and smiling at him. It was Old
Mother Nature.
66 6 Pretty hard work to get a dinner
that way, isn't it, Mr. Bat? ' asked Old
Mother Nature.
" Mr. Bat allowed that it was.
11 ' How would you like to flyf
asked Old Mother Nature.
" Mr. Bat thought that that would
be very fine indeed, but that was quite
out of the question because, as you
know, he hadn't any wings.
" Old Mother Nature said no more,
but something seemed to be pleasing
her greatly as she left Mr. Bat.
" The next evening when old Mr.
226 MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
Bat awoke, he really didn't know
whether he was himself or not. No,
Sir, he didn't. His legs were much
longer than they used to be and really
of no use at all for walking. Between
them was a queer thin skin. He
couldn't run. He couldn't even crawl
very well.
" At last, after much work, he man-
aged to get to the top of a big rock. He
was very hungry, and when a big, fat
bug came along, he forgot all about his
troubles and tried to jump. But in-
stead of jumping as he always had, he
just tumbled off the big rock. As he
fell he spread out his legs. What do
you think happened? Why, old Mr. Bat
found that he could fly!
" And ever since that long-ago time
the Bats have lived in dark caves and
have been able to fly,' concluded
Grandfather Frog.
WHEN MR. BAT GOT WINGS 227
" Splendid! " cried the Merry Little
Breezes. " And we thank you ever
and ever so much! Then they had a
race to see who could be the first to blow
a foolish green fly over to Grandfather
Frog
THE END
