Hollow Tree Nights and Days.
by Albert Bigelow Paine.
EXPLANATION OF THE NEW MAP
This is a new map of the Deep Woods, showing a good many new things. The three spots on the Edge of the World, away down, show where the Hollow Tree people and Mr. Rabbit sat when they told their star stories. Mr.
"c.o.o.n leaned against the tree, so his spot does not show. The little bush is the one that Mr. "Possum curled his tail around when he wanted to take a nap, to keep from falling over into the Deep Nowhere. Right straight above the spots is the old well that Mr. "Possum fell into and lost his chicken. Over toward the Wide Blue Water is Cousin Redfield"s cave and his bear ladder. The path leads to where he fell in. You can also find Mr. Turtle"s fish-poles which he keeps set, just above his house. The Hill there is where the Deep Woods people tried Mr. "Possum"s car, and the thing that looks like a barber-pole is where they landed.
They put it up afterward to mark the place. If you follow the road around you will come to Mr. "c.o.o.n"s bee-tree, and Mr. Robin"s tree, near the Race Track. There ought to be a good many more roads and things, but the artists said if they put everything on the map it would look too mixed up. Remember, with Deep Woods folks the top of the map is south.
GREETINGS FROM THE STORY TELLER AND THE ARTIST
Once upon a time, ever so long ago, the Story Teller told the Little Lady all about the "c.o.o.n and "Possum and the Old Black Crow who lived in three hollow branches of a Big Hollow Tree that stood in the far depths of the Big Deep Woods. The Crow and "c.o.o.n and "Possum were great friends and used to meet in the big family room down-stairs and have plenty of good things to eat, and then sit by the fire and smoke and tell stories, and sometimes they would invite the other Deep Woods people, like Mr.
Rabbit and Mr. Turtle and the rest, and even Mr. Dog, after they became friends with him, though Mr. Dog did not really live _in_ the Deep Woods, but only on the edge of it, with Mr. Man.
The Hollow Tree people never did get to be friends with Mr. Man. They liked to watch him, sometimes, from a distance, and would borrow things from him when he wasn"t at home, but they never just felt like calling on him or asking him to the Hollow Tree. You see, Mr. Man really belonged to one world and the Hollow Tree people belonged to another, and something is always likely to happen when any one, even an author, goes to mixing up worlds.
Well, by and by the Story Teller, and the Artist who drew the pictures, put the Hollow Tree and Deep Woods stories into a book to preserve them, for they thought that was going to be all of them, because Mr. Dog, who told them, had gone away and they did not know where they could ever find any more. Even when other Little Ladies and their brothers wrote and asked for more Hollow Tree stories there were no more to send for a very long time. But then one day the Story Teller and the Artist themselves moved into the very edge of the Big Deep Woods, and there they found some more stories about the "c.o.o.n and "Possum and the Old Black Crow, because Mr. Dog had left a young relative, very fine and handsome, who was also friends with the Hollow Tree people and could tell everything as it happened, right along. So the Story Teller and the Artist made up _The Hollow Tree Snowed-In Book_ which was all about once when the Hollow Tree people and their friends were "snowed in" and had to sit around the fire and eat good things and play games and tell stories to pa.s.s the time.
How Little Ladies do slip away from us! The first Hollow Tree stories were told for one who is now a Big Lady, and the Snowed-In stories for another, who will soon be a Big Lady, too. But in the Deep Woods the years do not count. The Hollow Tree people never grow any older, but stay always the same, and the Story Teller and the Artist have to keep stepping backward to find out the new Hollow Tree stories and to tell them to the new Little People that come along.
So now after a good many years we have a third Hollow Tree book, which will surely be the last one, because things are so likely to go in threes, like three cheers, and three trials, and three strikes and out.
The Deep Woods people will never desert the Hollow Tree, and though after this we should not hear from them again, we may imagine they are doing many of the same things, and keeping safe and happy during all the future Hollow Tree Nights and Days.
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND BUNTY BUN
JACK RABBIT TELLS ABOUT HIS SCHOOL-DAYS, AND WHY HE HAS ALWAYS THOUGHT IT BEST TO LIVE ALONE
The Little Lady has been poring over a first reader, because she has started to school now, and there are lessons almost every evening. Then by and by she closes the book and comes over to where the Story Teller is looking into the big open fire.
The little lady looks into the fire, too, and thinks. Then pretty soon she climbs into the Story Teller"s lap and leans back, and looks into the fire and thinks some more.
"Did the Hollow Tree people ever go to school?" she says. "I s"pose they did, though, or they wouldn"t know how to read and write, and send invitations and things."
The Story Teller knocks the ashes out of his pipe and lays it on the little stand beside him.
"Why, yes indeed, they went to school," he says. "Didn"t I ever tell you about that?"
"You couldn"t have," says the Little Lady, "because I never thought about its happening, myself, until just now."
"Well, then," says the Story Teller, "I"ll tell you something that Mr.
Jack Rabbit told about, one night in the Hollow Tree, when he had been having supper with the "c.o.o.n and "Possum and the Old Black Crow, and they were all sitting before the fire, just as we are sitting now. It isn"t really much about school, but it shows that Jack Rabbit went to one, and explains something else, too."
Mr. Crow had cooked all his best things that evening, and everything had tasted even better than usual. Mr. "Possum said he didn"t really feel as if he could move from his chair when supper was over, but that he wanted to do the right thing, and would watch the fire and poke it while the others were clearing the table, so that it would be nice and bright for them when they were ready to enjoy it. So then the Crow and the "c.o.o.n and Jack Rabbit flew about and did up the work, while Mr. "Possum put on a fresh stick, then lit his pipe, and leaned back and stretched out his feet, and said it surely was nice to have a fine, cozy home like theirs, and that he was always happy when he was doing things for people who appreciated it, like those present.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MR. RABBIT SAID HE CERTAINLY DID APPRECIATE BEING INVITED TO THE HOLLOW TREE]
Mr. Rabbit said he certainly did appreciate being invited to the Hollow Tree, living, as he did, alone, an old bachelor, with n.o.body to share his home; and then pretty soon the work was all done up, and Jack Rabbit and the others drew up their chairs, too, and lit their pipes, and for a while n.o.body said anything, but just smoked and felt happy.
Mr. "Possum was first to say something. He leaned over and knocked the ashes out of his pipe, then leaned back and crossed his feet, and said he"d been thinking about Mr. Rabbit"s lonely life, and wondering why it was that, with his fondness for society and such a good home, he had stayed a bachelor so long. Then the Crow and the "c.o.o.n said so, too, and asked Jack Rabbit why it was.
Mr. Rabbit said it was quite a sad story, and perhaps not very interesting, as it had all happened so long ago, when he was quite small.
"My folks lived then in the Heavy Thickets, over beyond the Wide Gra.s.slands," he said; "it was a very nice place, with a good school, kept by a stiff-kneed rabbit named Whack--J. Hickory Whack--which seemed to fit him. I was the only child in our family that year, and I suppose I was spoiled. I remember my folks let me run and play a good deal, instead of making me study my lessons, so that Hickory Whack did not like me much, though he was afraid to be as severe as he was with most of the others, my folks being quite well off and I an only child. Of course, the other scholars didn"t like that, and I don"t blame them now, though I didn"t care then whether they liked it or not. I didn"t care for anything, except to go capering about the woods, gathering flowers and trying to make up poetry, when I should have been doing my examples.
I didn"t like school or J. Hickory Whack, and every morning I hated to start, until, one day, a new family moved into our neighborhood. They were named Bun, and one of them was a little girl named Bunty--Bunty Bun."
When Mr. Rabbit got that far in his story he stopped a minute and sighed, and filled his pipe again, and took out his handkerchief, and said he guessed a little speck of ashes had got into his eye. Then he said:
"The Buns lived close to us, and the children went the same way to school as I did. Bunty was little and fat, and was generally behind, and I stayed behind with her, after the first morning. She seemed a very well-behaved little Miss Rabbit, and was quite plump, as I say, and used to have plump little books, which I used to carry for her, and think how nice it would be if I could always go on carrying them and helping Bunty Bun over the mud-holes and ditches."
Mr. Rabbit got another speck of ashes in his eye, and had to wipe it several times and blow his nose hard. Then he said:
"She wore a little red cape and a pretty linsey dress, and her ears were quite slim and silky, and used to stand straight up, except when she was sad over anything. Then they used to lop down quite flat; when I saw them that way it made me sad, too. But when she was pleased and happy, they set straight up and she seemed to laugh all over.
[Ill.u.s.tration: USED TO RUN OUT AND GET BEHIND, WITH BUNTY, AND TAKE HER BOOKS]
"I forgot all about not liking school. I used to watch until I saw the Bun children coming, and then run out and get behind, with Bunty, and take her books, and wish there was a good deal farther to go. When it got to be spring and flowers began to bloom, I would gather every one I saw for Bunty Bun, and once I made up a poem for her. I remember it still. It said:
"Oh, Bunty Bun, The spring"s begun, The violet"s are in bloom.
Oh, Bunty Bun, I"ll pick you one, All full of sweet perfume.
"The sun is bright, Our hearts are light, And we will skip and run.
p.r.i.c.k up your ears, And dry your tears, Dear bunny, Bunty Bun."
"Mr. Rabbit said he didn"t suppose it was the best poetry, but that it had meant so much to him then that he couldn"t judge it now, and, anyway, it was no matter any more. The other children used to tease them a good deal, Mr. Rabbit said, but that he and Bunty had not minded it so very much, only, of course, he wouldn"t have had them see his poem for anything. The trouble began when Bunty Bun decided to have a flower-garden.
"She used to see new flowers along the way to and from school that she wanted me to dig up for her so she could set them out in her garden. I liked to do it better than anything, too, only not _going_ to school, because the ground was pretty soft and sticky, and it made my hands so dirty, and Hickory Whack was particular about the children having clean hands. I used to hide the flower plants under the corner of the school-house every morning, and hurry in and wash my hands before school took up, and the others used to watch me and giggle, for they knew what all that dirt came from. Our school was just one room, and there were rows of nails by the door to hang our things on, and there was a bench with the wash-basin and the water-pail on it, the basin and the pail side by side. It was a misfortune for me that they were put so close together that way. But never mind--it is a long time ago.
[Ill.u.s.tration: NEW FLOWERS THAT SHE WANTED ME TO DIG UP FOR HER]
"One morning in April when it was quite chilly Bunty Bun saw several pretty plants on the way to school that she wanted me to dig up for her, root and all, for her garden. I said it would be better to get them on the way home that night, but Bunty said some one might come along and take them and that she wouldn"t lose those nice plants for anything. So I got down on my knees and dug and dug with my hands in the cold, sticky dirt, until I got the roots all up for her, and my hands were quite numb and a sight to look at. Then we hurried on to school, for it was getting late.
"When we got to the door I pushed the flower plants under the edge of the house, and we went in, Bunty ahead of me. School had just taken up, and all the scholars were in their seats except us. Bunty Bun went over to the girls" side to hang up her things, and I stuck my hat on a nail on our side, and stepped as quick as I could to the bench where the water was, to wash my hands.
"There was some water in the basin, and I was just about to dip my hands in when I looked over toward Bunty Bun and saw her little ears all lopped down flat, for the other little girl rabbits were giggling at her for coming in with me and being late. The boy rabbits were giggling at me, too, which I did not mind so much. But I forgot all about the basin, for a minute, looking at Bunty Bun"s ears, and when I started to wash my hands I kept looking at Bunty, and in that way made an awful mistake; for just when the water was feeling so good to my poor chilled hands, and I was waving them about in it, all the time looking at Bunty"s droopy ears, somebody suddenly called out, "Oh, teacher, Jacky Rabbit"s washing his hands in the water-pail! Jacky Rabbit"s washing his hands in the water-pail, teacher!"
[Ill.u.s.tration: I HAD MADE A MISS-DIP, AND EVERYBODY WAS LOOKING AT ME]
"And sure enough, I was! Looking at Bunty Bun and pitying her, I had made a miss-dip, and everybody was looking at me; and J. Hickory Whack said, in the most awful voice, "Jack Rabbit, you come here, at once!""