Part 2

After awhile Old Bob the gardener said that they had been in the water long enough for one day, and that he had some work to do, and must go back, but Buddy Jim said that he was going to stay and lie on the beach for a while; it was cooler there.

Old Bob the gardener said, all right, if he wouldn't go in the water alone, because he couldn't yet swim well enough to go in alone, and Buddy Jim promised that he would not. Old Bob knew that when Buddy said he would do a thing, that it was just as good as done, because he was very careful to _always_ keep his word. Mother said that a real man always did. And Buddy Jim meant to be a _real_ man.

It was so cool and comfy there under the alder bushes that Buddy Jim fell fast asleep, and then he was aware of voices, and that Old Dog Sandy was grumbling and complaining that "a fellow never could get forty winks, but that _someone_ had to chatter and wake him up."

"Lie down, Sandy," whispered Buddy Jim, "and keep quiet." The old dog obeyed, though he did not want to, and Buddy Jim _crawled_ quietly over towards the voices and lay _very_ still until they began again.

"I saw it first," said a queer lispy little voice. It was not a very good-natured sounding voice either.

"Why the very idea," said a calm, quiet, little voice, "how can you say so, when we were already here when you arrived? _We_ saw it first, and we intend to keep it; isn't that so, Brother?"

"Of course," answered another little voice, "that's what we intend to do. You go and find another nest if you are hungry."

"No, no," lisped the first voice, "this nest is mine and I'm going to have it."

"Well now, Mrs. Garter Snake," said the first little voice, "you know well enough it's no good wrangling; we are not going to give up our rights to you; finding's keepings; anyway Mrs. Snapping Turtle lays so many eggs that very likely there will be some left, after we have had enough, and we don't mind sharing them with you; you are quite welcome to what we cannot use."

"All right," said Mrs. Garter Snake, "go on and dig them out, then, because I want to get back home to my children."

Buddy Jim crawled a bit nearer to see if he could discover who the little neighbors were who were not a bit afraid of Mrs. Garter Snake.

They were very pretty Little Neighbors indeed, in cool-looking black-and-white suits and they were as frisky as kittens. It was only the work of a moment for them to dig open Mrs. Snapping Turtle's nest in the sand, where she had trustingly laid her eggs to be hatched out by kind Mr. Sun while she was cool and happy in the bed of the brook, or swam around catching frogs for her dinner.

It did not take them long to eat their lunch, either, and when they were no longer hungry, they ran away together, laughing, leaving what was left of the eggs to Mrs. Garter Snake, who immediately ate them and then rustled away out of sight among the bushes.

"I guess that's the last of Mrs. Snapping Turtle's children," said Buddy Jim as he dressed, "it does seem too bad, that her eggs are all lost, but she could not expect anything else to happen. Let's go, Sandy," he called to the old dog.

Old Dog Sandy made believe that he didn't hear; he knew that the Little Neighbors must live somewhere near, and he wished very much to call on them; they had spoiled his nap, and he wanted to give them a chance to apologize.

"Come along, Sandy," said his little master, who knew his tricks, "I know what you want to do; you want to find our Little Neighbors, and you know I do not allow _that_!"

After lunch Buddy Jim went out to the tool house to find Old Bob the gardener. "Feel better, Son?" asked the old man kindly. "I feel fine, Bob, thank you," said the little fellow, "but I want to ask you something. Who were the Little Neighbors that I saw digging Mrs. Snapping Turtle's eggs out of the sand this morning? They were black and white and looked something like Peter the Prowler, only much prettier. Old Dog Sandy wanted to go after them," he added, "but I made him keep away."

Old Bob the gardener laughed. "It's a good thing for him that you did," said he, "and for all the rest of us, too; that was Brother and Sister Skunk!"

"_Why_ is it a good thing, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "They were just as good-natured as could be, and generous also; they let Mrs. Garter Snake have part of the eggs."

"O yes, they're _generous_," said Old Bob the gardener, "and easy to get along with, too, if you let them alone; I hope Old Dog Sandy was not enough interested in them to go back and try to find them, because, in the matter of perfume, now, they're _more_ than generous."

"O yes," said Buddy Jim, laughing, "Now I remember!"

But Old Dog Sandy didn't remember; he just couldn't forget; and he told himself that he knew the way back there, and that no black-and-white kitteny looking things like that could wake him up without explaining why; and _some_ day,--_well_ they'd _see_.

BUDDY JIM GOES FISHING

_The Bob-o-link was whistling His merry-hearted song, To tell his name, and the wondrous news His babes would fly 'fore long; "I'd like," said Buddy Jim "to go A-fishing in the brook, The day is fine and all I need Is a rod, and line, and hook."_

"Look in the upper left hand drawer of my work table in the tool house," said Old Bob the gardener, "and you will find a line and hooks. You can cut yourself an alder pole for a rod."

When Buddy Jim had found the tackle and had cut the alder sapling for a rod, he took them to Old Bob the gardener and asked him to help him put them together.

"These have not been used," said Bob, "since my small city cousin was down here a few summers ago."

"Did he catch any trout in the brook?" asked Buddy Jim. "No, he didn't," said Bob, "he claimed something always chased the fish away. But there's nothing in the brook except some little spotted trout, anyway."

"What bait shall I use?" asked Buddy Jim. "Angleworms," said Old Bob the gardener, "if old Robin Red Breast has left any. He has fed at least a dozen to that fat child of his since morning."

"I believe he hears them walk," laughed Buddy Jim. "Just look at him with his head on one side listening. If I were an angleworm, I would not even _wiggle_ while he was around."

"Well," said Old Bob, the gardener, "I suppose they are his meat."

"Prob'ly," said Buddy Jim. "But he must spare me a few for bait. I'll get mine in the back yard, though, because I make bigger holes getting them out than father Robin does."

It was very still and pleasant down by the brook, under the alder trees.

There was no living thing in sight, except a whole family of Snapping turtles, asleep on a log which had fallen partly across the brook at the deepest place.

Buddy Jim baited his hook. Then he cast it far into the deep shadows under a big rock, and waited. He waited a long time. Then just as he was sure he felt a nibble, the tiniest turtle jumped "pl-o-o-m-p!" into the water.

"O dear!" said Buddy Jim. "That scared away my fish!" He pulled in his line, and found that his bait was gone. So he put on some more, and tried again.

Then just as he was _certain sure_ that he felt a nibble, "pl-o-o-m-p!" went the next smallest turtle.

Patiently, Buddy Jim put on more bait, and tried again. But just as he _knew_ he had a _bite_ "pl-o-o-m-p!" went the third turtle into the water. Once more he tried, and again the same thing happened. Until there were only the father and mother turtle left on the log.

"I'm going to drive those two old turtles away," said Buddy Jim. So he threw a stone and hit the log, but the father turtle and the mother turtle did not stir. "They are sound asleep," said Buddy Jim, "I'll try again." So he did. But just as he was _sure_ he had a nibble, both those old turtles woke up and jumped "Ker-plunk!" into the water. "Now," said Buddy Jim, "they are all gone, and this time I'll catch that old trout."

But just as he got his bait on the hook, there were all those meddlesome turtles back on the log, looking as though they would never wake up in the world.

"O, what a joke! O, what a joke. Ha Ha Ha-a," cried a voice very near. Buddy Jim looked up. There was Old Jim Crow, on an old hemlock stump, dancing with glee, and nearly doubling up laughing.

"I don't see any joke," said Buddy Jim.

"That's always the way with folks when the joke is on them," gurgled Old Jim Crow; "they never can see it. The joke is on you today, instead of on Old Man Kingfisher."

"Do you mean to say those turtles jumped in the water just to warn the fish?" asked Buddy Jim, his eyes wide open.

"Certainly they did," said Old Jim Crow, "that's their regular job. There are always some of Spotty the Trout's young ones, who don't know any better than to nibble at hooks, and go near enough shore so they can be caught by prowlers. So they must be looked after."

"Who tries to catch them?" asked Buddy Jim. "Well," said Jim Crow, "Old Man Kingfisher is about the _worst_ one, and then there is Slinky Minky, and _always_, of _course_, boys, like you, who come fishing just for fun. Not because they need fish to eat at all, but just for fun." Buddy Jim somehow felt very small, and ashamed of himself. "Fun!" went on Old Jim Crow. "Destroying a beautiful bit of life just for fun. And you look like a _nice_ boy, too."

"I _am_ a nice boy," said Buddy Jim. "Nobody ever told me that it's wrong to catch fish." "It isn't," said Old Jim Crow, "if you need them to eat. But it would take six of Spotty's babies to make a mouthful."

"Well, I may as well go home," said Buddy Jim. "Old Bob the gardener will laugh at my empty basket."

"Fill it full of wintergreen berries," said Old Jim Crow. "They are just scrumptious now. Fat and mealy!"

So Buddy Jim lined his basket with fresh green leaves, and then gathered enough of the spicy crimson berries to fill it.

"Any luck, Son?" asked Old Bob the gardener, "Well," said Buddy Jim, "I had several nibbles, but the turtles kept jumping off a log and frightening the fish away."

"Same old trick," said Bob the gardener. "They've been doing that ever since I was your age. But I'll take you down to Long Lake some day next week, and let you catch some real fish. Perch and Pickerel and, like enough, an eel."

"O Goody, Goody!" said the little boy. "Have some berries, Bob?" "Iv'ry Plums," said Old Bob the gardener.

"I thought they were wintergreen berries," said Buddy Jim. "Some folks call 'em that," said Old Bob the gardener. "But _we_ always called 'em iv'ry plums. See any one else down to the brook?" he asked.

"Nobody but Old Jim Crow," said Buddy Jim. "He prob'ly had one eye on Mrs. Snapping Turtle, hoping to find her nest full of eggs," said Bob the gardener.

Buddy Jim, opened his eyes wide. "Do turtles lay eggs?" he asked. "Sure," said Old Bob the gardener. "In the sand."

"And he looked like such a _nice_ Crow, too," said Buddy Jim.

BUDDY JIM AND THE HOUSE MICE

_The new moon up above the world Looked like a silver boat That some wee playmate of the sky Had launched and left to float; The night winds all went laughing by To drive the heat away; "Almost I think," said Buddy Jim, "I like night more than day!"_

"That settles it, then," said a tiny, squeaky little voice from the corner of the sleeping porch where Buddy was cosily tucked in bed, "that settles it! He _likes_ night better than day; so, just as likely as not, he will stay awake all night to enjoy himself, or anyway so long that we shall get no supper at all! And the whole family so hungry, too!"

"Now be patient, little sister," said another little voice. "That is not a grown-up person, there in the bed,--that's a boy, and boys never stay awake very long. It won't hurt us to wait a bit for our supper. My!" he went on in a lower tone, "I think he has heard us, but never mind, sister, we both know the way out, and there isn't a _bit_ of danger."

Buddy had heard the voices and, always interested in his Little Neighbors, he sat up in bed and peered into the corner of the porch in the direction of the voices--of course he could not see a thing, but he knew that someone must be there.

So he called very softly, "Who are you, Little Neighbors?"

"I'm just Buddy Jim and I won't harm you--you must have heard of me--I _live_ here in this house."

"Oh," cried both little voices in a relieved tone, "You don't know what a load you have taken off our minds! Why of _course_ we have heard of you. Mrs. Harvest Mouse says that you really saved the lives of her whole family the day Red-Headed Woodpecker came to collect the rent. But you see that was different. She was in her own house and we are in yours, and for some reason we have never been able to find out, people dislike to have us come in their houses."

"They set traps for us," said Little Sister Mouse, "and kill us--and we are _no good_ to them--our fur is so soft that it is useless--and then the _cats_! Why! we are in constant fear of _their_ dreadful claws!"

"Yes indeed," said Brother Mouse, "we never came in this house until Old Dog Sandy came here to live and made Peter Prowler live under the barn."

"In that case," said Buddy, "I can not imagine why you go into people's houses. I would certainly not go where I was not welcome."

"Why, dear me," said Brother Mouse, "we're House Mice--we always live in houses. _We_ don't know _why_, we just know it's _so_! and we're no trouble to any one; we take only the tiniest crumbs of food, when Mary the cook leaves us anything at all--she doesn't often--and the children are so hungry and Mother hasn't a bit of anything in the nest to give them." "And they're hungry," chimed in little Sister House Mouse.

"What would you like for their supper, and yours too?" asked Buddy, "because I think I can get you something, and if you will _promise_ not to go into the kitchen again I will promise to leave your supper wherever you say every evening this summer. _Will_ you promise?"

"_Will_ we?" choroused the little Mice, "we certainly _will_! Honest 'n true 'n black and blue."

"Well, then," said Buddy, "just you wait right where you are--" and he slipped out of bed and ran to the kitchen.

He was back in almost no time at all, with some bread and some bits of cheese and a cookie, which he broke into bits and placed on the porch floor, and then, just to show the little neighbors that he meant to play fair, he hopped back into bed again.

It just did his kind little heart good to hear the delighted squeals of the Little Neighbors when they found the food. He smiled to himself as he heard them scamper away with as much as they could carry. It was only a moment until they were back again, and this time they stayed to eat their own supper.

"Mum, mum," said Sister Mouse with her mouth full of food, "Mary is a wonderful cook!"

"Where do you live, Little Neighbors," asked Buddy, "so I shall know where to leave your food every day."

"Up in the woodshed loft," said Brother Mouse. "We like it there, because there is always moss and shavings to make warm nests of; and sometimes Bob the gardener leaves an old coat there for us to chew up and line our nests with. But we must go home now and let you go to sleep, because you must be very sleepy."

"No indeed," said Buddy, "I'm really not sleepy at all, and I've _loved_ to have you visit me!"

"We are so grateful to you," said Brother House Mouse, "and we both wish we could do something for you. Would you care to hear us sing, so long as you're not so very sleepy?"

Buddy laughed. "That _would_ be _lovely_," he said. "Just like little Tommy Tucker, who sang for his supper. But _can_ you sing? Let's hear you," he invited, eagerly.

There was a soft little scrambling sound, and then, in the moonlight, Buddy saw on his bed rail two grey Little Neighbors. It was Brother Mouse, holding Sister Mouse by the hand. They were _bowing_ and looking for all the world like the two little concert singers that they were.

They made no excuses, they did not even say they were out of practice, nor that they couldn't think what to sing, but began in the sweetest of small voices to sing what sounded to Buddy like a little lullaby.

Buddy lay very still. He was delighted with the song, but he did not dare to applaud, because he was afraid that his Little Neighbors would not understand. Not being much used to singing to mortals, they might be frightened at the noise.

But what do you think? Before he even knew that he was sleepy, and while he was enjoying the concert, he went _fast_ asleep.

And the next thing he knew, Old Bob the gardener was outside, wanting to know if he meant to stay in bed all day.

"Bob," said Buddy, "have you ever heard a House Mouse sing?" "No, Buddy," said Old Bob the gardener, "I never have, but I have talked with folks who say _they_ have heard them."

"Well, Bob," insisted the little boy, "do you _believe_ they can sing?"

"Why, yes, Buddy," said Old Bob the gardener, "I believe everything until I find out for certain that it isn't so. It's much the happiest way, don't you think?"

"Your ways are all happy ways, Bob," said Buddy. "You're the best chum _ever_!"

[Music]

BUDDY JIM SEES MADAME MINK

_'Twas a misty, moisty morning And the big clouds overhead Looked like balloons all weighted down With tons and tons of lead, The trees held up their dusty leaves For a freshening drink of rain, "It's plain to see," said Buddy Jim, "It's going to rain again."_

Even Robin Redbreast knew it, and sang his "cheer up" song from the topmost bough of the old elm tree, as much as to say, "What's a little wetting, anyway?" And the chickens knew it and went singing dolefully about because they didn't like wet weather; and Mother Duck and her twelve yellow ducklings knew it, and went about quacking merrily and looking happy because they _did_ like it; and Buddy Jim knew it and didn't care either way; he liked the rain or he liked the shine. But first, he thought he would go and see what Old Bob the Gardener was doing.

He found Bob in the tool house, reeling up some fascinating-looking fishing lines.

Old Bob looked up as Buddy Jim entered, smiling in his cheery way, and the little boy thought that as long as Bob smiled that way he didn't care how much it rained.

"Like to go fishing with me, over to Long Lake, Son?" asked Bob. "I promised you I'd take you fishing some day, and this is going to be a good day for the fish to rise."

"_Would_ I?" said Buddy Jim. "Thanks for asking me, Bob, and I'll be ready in no time."

"Be ready in half an hour from now," said Old Bob the Gardener, "and ask Mary the cook to put us up some lunch, because we shall be gone all day. I'll go and harness old Maud."

By the time that Old Bob the gardener was at the door with Maud and the buggy, Buddy Jim was ready.

He looked exactly _like_ a little fisherman in his yellow slicker, and long rubber boots, with his old felt hat turned down. Mother laughed as she kissed him "goodbye" and wished him luck.

It was great fun riding along the road through the woods, and listening to the rain falling on the leaves. But there wasn't a thing in sight except a flock of crows.

"Have you aways lived around here, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim.

"Sure," said Old Bob the gardener, "ever since I was a baby; right over in that field yonder was where I used to go to school; the school house is gone now, and there's nothing left to mark the place except a clump of lilac bushes that I helped the teacher to set out one spring day, when I wasn't a mite bigger than you are now."

"I remember that day well," he went on. "I was late getting the bushes planted and so I took a short cut through these woods and just as I got about where we are now, who should come from behind a big hemlock tree but old lady Black Bear, thin as a rail from her long winter sleep, and looking hungry."

"My!" said Buddy Jim, his eyes wide open. "_What_ did you _do_?"

"I'm afraid I was rude to the lady," said Old Bob, "because I did not even wish her 'good evening,'--I ran for home just as fast as my legs could carry me."

"Did she run after you?" breathlessly asked Buddy Jim.

The old man laughed. "I couldn't truthfully say," said he, "I didn't look behind me."

"I _think_ I should have done the same thing," said Buddy Jim.

"And I wouldn't blame you, Son," said Old Bob the gardener, "but here we are, hook, line, _and_ sinker, and we will soon find out if Mr. and Mrs. Perch are at home."

As soon as old Maud was hobbled and turned loose to graze, Buddy Jim and Old Bob the gardener launched the old flat-bottomed boat at the landing, and began fishing.

Bob "baited" the hooks, and they both cast off. Old Bob the gardener caught the first fish, a beautiful big perch, and in no time at all Buddy Jim had one also.

It was such good fishing that they soon had all they wanted, and Old Bob the gardener said that they would go ashore now. But Buddy Jim begged so hard for just one more cast that Old Bob said, "all right," and stooped to put the fish in the basket.

A startled exclamation from Buddy Jim made him turn, just in time to catch the little chap as he was going head first out of the boat.

"Here, Son," said the old man as he pulled him back into the boat, "aren't you wet enough yet?"

"O, Bob," panted the little fellow, "I've got a bite--and I _think_ it's a whale--he pulls so--help me land him." So together they pulled him in--about two feet of wiggly, _snaky-looking_ fish!

"What is it, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "I don't _like_ him--he isn't pretty!" "It's an eel," said old Bob the gardener, laughing, "do you want to keep him or shall I throw him overboard?"

"'Deed I _do_ want to keep him," said Buddy Jim, proudly, "I want to show him to Mother."

"All right," said Old Bob the gardener, "but he can't go in the basket with the regular fish. And now we'll go ashore and cook some of our catch for our luncheon."

"How can we make a fire, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "Everything's wet."

"That's easy," said Bob, "I'll go over in the woods and gather some birch bark, and you may pick up some small twigs that will dry quickly, and pile them on that flat rock by the water's edge."

It took only a few minutes for Buddy Jim to gather a big pile of the small dead twigs and branches, and then he sat down on another rock to look at his big eel and think about the fun it had been to land him.

There was no sound at all except the gentle splashing of the rain, when Buddy Jim heard soft footsteps, and then voices. "Now, isn't that a shame?" said a voice. "Some one has been catching our fish again, right out of our own lake!"

"Ssh, Children," said an older voice, "keep quiet--some one may hear you. They have gone away and left the basket open, and I will go and get the fish back again. Just wait here and keep quiet."

Buddy Jim kept quiet, because he very much wished to know which Little Neighbor it was; so quiet indeed, that Mrs. American Mink came fully into sight before she saw him. Buddy Jim knew her at once, because her picture was in one of his Nature books; and he knew also that she is very fond of fish to eat.

She was very much surprised when she saw Buddy Jim and immediately tried to look just like a bit of brown earth, but Buddy Jim spoke, and she knew she had been seen.

"How do you do, Little Neighbor," said he, "and what can I do for you?"