Chapter 2

Mr. Thimblefinger reflected a while, and then shook his head. "I can show it to you," he said, "but I can't describe it."

"Pick 'im up an' show 'im to your ma!" exclaimed Drusilla suddenly.

"No, no, no!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger, leaping to his feet. "That would spoil everything. No grown person living in this country has ever seen me. No, no! don't try that. It would spoil your luck. I wouldn't be here now if the Dolls' Grandmother hadn't begged me to come with her last night. But I'll come to see you,"--he pointed at Drusilla. "I'll come often."

"I des said dat fer ter see what you'd say," protested Drusilla. "You wan' gwine ter take 'im, wuz you, honey?" This question was addressed to Buster John, who scorned to answer it.

"Grown people wouldn't understand me," Mr. Thimblefinger explained. "They know a great deal too much to suit me."

"How do you get to your country?" inquired Buster John, who was keen for an adventure.

"The nearest way is by the spring," replied Mr. Thimblefinger. "That is the only way you could go."

"Can I go too?" asked Sweetest Susan. "And Drusilla?"

"Oh, of course," said Mr. Thimblefinger, shrugging his shoulders. "One can go or all can go."

"Do you go down the spring branch?" asked Buster John.

"No, no," replied Mr. Thimblefinger. "Below the spring and below the branch."

"Do you mean under the spring?" Sweetest Susan inquired, with some hesitation.

"That's it," cried Mr. Thimblefinger. "Right down through the spring and under it."

"Why, we'd drown," said Sweetest Susan. "The spring is deep."

"Well, you'll ha' ter 'skuze me," exclaimed Drusilla. "Dat water's too wet fer me."

Buster John waited for an explanation, but none was forthcoming.

"We couldn't go through the spring, you know," he said presently.

"How do you know?" asked Mr. Thimblefinger slyly. "Did you ever try it?"

He asked each of the children this, and the reply was that none of them had ever tried it.

"I put my foot in it once," said Buster John, "and the water was just like other spring water. I know we can't go through it."

"Come now!" Mr. Thimblefinger suggested, "don't say you know. Sometimes people live to be very old and don't know the very things they ought to know."

"But I know that," replied Buster John confidently.

"Very well, then," said Mr. Thimblefinger, pulling out a tiny watch, "did you ever feel of the water in the spring at precisely nine minutes and nine seconds after twelve o'clock?"

"N-o-o-o," replied Buster John, taken by surprise, "I don't think I ever did."

"Of course not!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger gayly. "You had no reason. Well, at nine minutes and nine seconds after twelve o'clock the water in the spring is not wet. It is as dry as the air we breathe. It is now two minutes after twelve o'clock. We'll go to the spring, wait until the time comes, and then you will see for yourselves."

As they went toward the spring--Mr. Thimblefinger running on before with wonderful agility--Drusilla touched Sweetest Susan on the arm. "Honey," said she, "don't let dat creetur pull you in de spring. Goodness knows, ef he puts his han' on me I'm gwine ter squall."

"Will you hush?" exclaimed Buster John impatiently.

"Watch out, now," said Drusilla defiantly. "Ef you gits drownded in dar I'll sho' tell yo' ma."

Fortunately, there was no one near the spring, so Mr. Thimblefinger advanced boldly, followed closely by the children, though Drusilla seemed to hang back somewhat doubtfully. When they arrived there Mr. Thimblefinger took out his tiny timepiece and held it in his hand. The children watched him with breathless interest, especially Buster John, who was thrilled with the idea of having an adventure entirely different from any that he had read of in the story-books.

As the little man stood there holding his watch and looking at it intently, the dinner-bell rang, first in the hallway and then in the back porch. The children remembered it afterward.

"You all better go git yo' dinner 'fo' it git col', stidder projeckin' 'roun' here wid you dunner what," remarked Drusilla.

"Now!" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger, "put your hand in the spring."

Buster John did as he was bid, and, to his amazement, he could feel no water. He could see it, but he couldn't feel it. He turned pale with excitement and withdrew his hand. Then he put his other hand in, but the result was the same. He plunged his arm in up to the elbow, but his sleeve remained perfectly dry.

"Try it, sis," he cried.

Sweetest Susan did so, and boldly declared there was no water in the spring. She wanted Drusilla to try to wet her hand, but Drusilla sullenly declined.

Mr. Thimblefinger settled the matter by walking into the spring.

"Now, then, if you are going, come along," he cried. "You have just seventeen and a half seconds." He waved his hand from the bottom of the spring and stood waiting. A spring lizard ran near him, and he drew his sword and chased it into a hole. A crawfish showed its head, and he drove it away. Then he waved his hand again. "Come on, the coast is clear."

Buster John put his hand in the water again, and this seemed to satisfy him. He stepped boldly into the spring, and in a moment he stood by Mr. Thimblefinger, laughing, but still excited by the novelty of his experience. He called to his sister:--

"Come on, sis. It's splendid down here."

"Is it wet?" she asked plaintively. "Is it cold?"

"No!" replied Buster John impatiently. "Don't be a baby."

"Come on, Drusilla! You've got to come. Mamma said you must go wherever we went," cried Sweetest Susan.

"No, ma'am!" exclaimed Drusilla, with emphasis. "She ain't tol' me ter foller you in de fier an' needer in de water!"

But Sweetest Susan didn't wait to hear. She jumped into the spring with a splash and then stood by her brother very red in the face.

"Five more seconds!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger in a businesslike way.

Drusilla looked in the spring and hesitated. She could see the water plain enough, but then she could also see Sweetest Susan and Buster John, and they seemed to be very comfortable.

"I'm comin'," she yelled, "but ef you all make me git drownded in dry water I'll ha'nt you ef it's de las' thing I do!"

Then she shut her eyes tight, put her fingers in her ears, and leaped into the spring. She floundered around with her eyes still shut, and gasped and caught her breath just like a drowning person, until she heard the others laughing at her, and then she opened her eyes with astonishment.

Suddenly there was a loud, splashing sound heard above and around them and under their feet.

"Watch out!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. "Run this way! The water is getting wet again!"

The way seemed to widen before them as they ran, and in a moment they found themselves below the "gum," or "curb," of the spring and beyond it. But as they went forward the bottom of the spring seemed to grow and expand, and the sun shining through gave a soft light that was very pleasant to the eye. The grass was green and the leaves of the trees and the flowers were pale pink and yellow.

Mr. Thimblefinger seemed to be very happy. He ran along before the children as nimbly as a killdee, talking and laughing all the time. Presently Drusilla, who brought up the rear, suddenly stopped in her tracks and looked around. Then she uttered an exclamation of fright. Sweetest Susan and Buster John paused to see what was the matter.

"Wharbouts did we come in at?" she asked.

Then, for the first time, the children saw that the bottom of the spring had seemed to expand, until it spread over their heads and around on all sides as the sky does in our country.

"Don't bother about that," said Mr. Thimblefinger. "No matter how big it looks, it's nothing but the bottom of the spring after all."

"But how are we to get out, please?" asked Sweetest Susan.

"The same way you came in," said Mr. Thimblefinger.

"I tol' you! I tol' you!" exclaimed Drusilla, swinging her right arm up and down vigorously. "Ef you kin fly you kin git out, an' you look much like flyin'. Dat what you git by not mindin' me an' yo' ma!"

"Tut! tut!" exclaimed Mr. Thimblefinger. "I'll 'sicc' the Katydids on you if you don't stop scaring the little girl. Come! we are not far from my house. We'll go there and see what the neighbors have sent in for dinner."

Buster John followed him as readily as before, but Sweetest Susan and Drusilla were not so eager. They had no device, however, and Drusilla made the best of it.

"I ain't skeered ez I wuz. He talk mo' and mo' like folks."

So they went on toward Mr. Thimblefinger's house.

III.

MR. THIMBLEFINGER'S FRIENDS.

"I hope you are not tired," said Mr. Thimblefinger to Sweetest Susan when they had been on their way for some little time. "Because if you are you can rest yourself by taking longer steps."

Buster John was ready to laugh at this, but he soon discovered that Mr. Thimblefinger was right. He found that he could hop and jump ever so far in this queer country, and the first use he made of the discovery was to jump over Drusilla's head. This he did with hardly any effort. After that the journey of the children, which had grown somewhat tiresome (though they wouldn't say so), became a frolic. They skimmed along over the gray fields with no trouble at all, but Drusilla found it hard to retain her balance when she jumped high. Mr. Thimblefinger, who had a reason for everything, was puzzled at this. He paused a while and stood thinking and rubbing his chin. Then he said that either Drusilla's head was too light or her heels too heavy--he couldn't for the life of him tell which.

There was one thing that bothered the children. If Mr. Thimblefinger's house was just big enough to fit him (as Buster John expressed it), how could they go inside? Sweetest Susan was so troubled that she asked Drusilla about it. But Drusilla shook her head vigorously.

"Don't come axin' me," she cried. "I done tol' you all right pine-blank not ter come. Ef de house lil' like dat creetur is, what you gwine do when night come? En den spozen 'pon top er dat dat a big rain come up? Oh, I tol' you 'fo' you started! Who in de name er sense ever heah talk er folks gwine down in a spring? You mought er know'd sump'in gwine ter happen. Oh, I tol' you!"

There was no denying this, and Sweetest Susan and her brother were beginning to feel anxious, when an exclamation from Mr. Thimblefinger attracted their attention.

"We are nearly there," he shouted. "Yonder is the house. My! won't the family be surprised when they see you!"

Sure enough there was the house, and it was not a small one, either. Drusilla said it looked more like a barn than a house, but Buster John said it didn't make any difference what it looked like so long as they could rest there and get something to eat, for they had had no dinner.

"I hope dey got sho' 'nuff vittles--pot-licker an' dumplin's, an' sump'in you kin fill up wid," said Drusilla heartily.

Mr. Thimblefinger, who had been running a little way ahead, suddenly paused and waited for the children to come up.

"Come to think of it," he remarked, "you may have heard of some of my family. I call them my family, but they are no kin to me. We just live together in the same house for company's sake."

"They are not fairies?" suggested Sweetest Susan.

Mr. Thimblefinger shook his head. "Oh, no! Just common every-day people like myself. We put on no airs. Did you ever hear of Mrs. Meadows? And Mr. Rabbit? And Mrs. Rabbit?"

"Dem what wuz in de tale?" asked Drusilla.

"Yes," said Mr. Thimblefinger, "the very same persons."

"Sho' 'nuff!" exclaimed Drusilla. "Why, we been hear talk er dem sence 'fo' we wuz knee-high."

Sweetest Susan and Buster John said they had often heard of Mr. Rabbit and Mrs. Meadows. This seemed to please Mr. Thimblefinger very much. He smiled and nodded approval.

"Did they ever have you in a story?" asked Buster John.

"No, no!" replied Mr. Thimblefinger. "I was so little they forgot me." He laughed at his own joke, but it was very plain that he didn't relish the idea of not having his name in a book.

Presently the children came to the house, but they hesitated at the gate and stood there in fear and trembling. What they saw was enough to frighten them. An old woman was sitting in a chair knitting. She was not different from many old women the children had seen, but near her sat a Rabbit as big as a man. He was a tremendous creature, grizzly and gray, and watery-eyed from age. He sat in a rocking-chair smoking a pipe.

"Le' 's go back," whispered Drusilla. "Dat ar creetur bigger dan a hoss. Ef he git a glimp' us we er gone--gone!"

Sweetest Susan shivered and looked at Buster John, and Buster John looked at Mr. Thimblefinger. But Mr. Thimblefinger ran forward, crying out:--

"Howdy, folks, howdy! I've brought some friends home to dinner." He beckoned to the children. "Come on and see Mrs. Meadows and Mr. Rabbit."

Mrs. Meadows immediately dropped her knitting in her lap, and threw her hands up to her head, as if to arrange her hair.

"Come in," said Mr. Thimblefinger to the children.

"Yes, come on," exclaimed Mr. Rabbit in a voice that sounded as if he had a bad cold.

"I'm in no fix to be seen," said Mrs. Meadows, "but I'm glad to see you, anyhow. Come right in. Take off your things and make yourself at home. How did you get here? I reckon that little trick there has been telling tales out of school." She pointed at Mr. Thimblefinger and laughed.

"He brought us," said Sweetest Susan. "I'm sorry we came."

"Now, don't say that," remarked Mrs. Meadows kindly. "What are you afraid of?"

"Of him," replied Sweetest Susan, nodding her head toward Mr. Rabbit.

"Is that all?" exclaimed Mrs. Meadows. "Why, he's as harmless as a kitten."

"Yes, yes!" said Mr. Rabbit complacently. "No harm in me--no harm in old people. Just give us a little room in the corner--a little place where we can sit and nod--and there's no harm in us. I'm just as glad you've come as I can be. I see you've brought the Tar Baby. She's grown some since I saw her last." Mr. Rabbit looked at Drusilla with considerable curiosity. "I hope she's not as sticky as she used to be."

"Hey!" cried Buster John, laughing. "Mr. Rabbit thinks Drusilla is the Tar Baby!"

Drusilla tossed her head scornfully. "Huh! I ain't no Tar Baby. I may be a nigger, an' I speck I is, but I ain't no Tar Baby. My mammy done tol' me 'bout de Tar Baby in de tale, an' she got it fum her gran'daddy. Ef I'm de Tar Baby, I'm older dan my mammy's gran'daddy."

Mr. Rabbit took off his spectacles and wiped them on his coat-tail. "My eyes are getting very bad," he said, by way of apology. "But you certainly look very much like the Tar Baby. If you were both together in the dark, nobody could tell you apart. Well, well! I'm getting old."

"You ain't no older dan you look," said Drusilla spitefully under her breath.

"Hush!" whispered Sweetest Susan. "He'll eat us up."

Mrs. Meadows laughed. "Don't worry, child. Mr. Rabbit loves his pipe and a joke, but he'll never hurt you. Never in the world."

"But this isn't in the world," suggested Buster John.

"Well, it's next door, as you may say," Mrs. Meadows replied.

Just then Mr. Rabbit slowly raised himself from his chair and examined the seat closely. "I missed Mr. Thimblefinger," he said, "and I was afraid I had sat on him."

"Oh, no!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger, coming out from under the steps; "I was just resting myself."

"Mr. Thimblefinger will take care of himself, I'll be bound," exclaimed Mrs. Meadows. "He's little; but is a mountain strong because it is big?"

"Why, that puts me in mind of the story--But never mind! I'm always thinking about old times." Mr. Rabbit sighed as he said this.

"Oh, please tell us the story," pleaded Sweetest Susan, anxious to make friends with Mr. Rabbit.

He shook his head. "Mrs. Meadows can tell it better than I can."

"Dinner!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. "What about dinner?"

"Dinner'll be ready directly," replied Mrs. Meadows.

"But the story?" Sweetest Susan said.

THE STRONGEST--WHO? OR WHICH?

"Well," replied Mrs. Meadows, "it was like this: One time in the country where we came from--the country where you live now--there chanced to be a big frost, and the mill-pond froze over. Mr. Rabbit ran along that way and found that the pond had this bridge across it."

"Was it this Mr. Rabbit here?" asked Buster John.

Mrs. Meadows folded her hands in her lap and looked at them. "Well," she said, "I never talk about folks behind their backs. You must do your own guessing. Anyway, Mr. Rabbit found the ice bridge over the pond, and as he was in something of a hurry he skipped across it. I mean he skipped a part of the way. The Ice was so slippery that when he got about halfway, his feet slipped from under him and he fell kerthump! He got up and rubbed himself as well as he could, and then he thought that the Ice must be very strong to hit him so hard a lick. He said to the Ice, 'You are very strong.'

"'I am so,' replied the Ice.

"'Well, if you are so strong, how can the Sun melt you?'

"The Ice said nothing, and so Mr. Rabbit asked the Sun, 'Are you very strong?'

"'So they tell me,' replied the Sun.

"'Then how can the Clouds hide you?'

"The Sun was somewhat ashamed and had nothing to say. So Mr. Rabbit looked at the Clouds.

"'Are you very strong?'

"'We have heard so,' replied the Clouds.

"'How can the Wind blow you?'

"The Clouds sailed away, and Mr. Rabbit asked the Wind, 'Are you very strong?'

"'I believe you,' said the Wind.

"'Then how can the Mountain stand against you?'

"The Wind blew itself away, and then Mr. Rabbit asked the Mountain, 'Are you very strong?'

"'So it seems,' replied the Mountain.

"'How can the Mouse make a nest in you?'

"The Mountain was mum. So Mr. Rabbit asked the Mouse, 'Are you very strong?'

"'I believe so,' replied the Mouse.

"'How can the Cat catch you?'

"The Mouse hid in the grass. Mr. Rabbit asked the Cat, 'Are you very strong?'

"'Yes, indeed,' replied the Cat.

"'How can the Dog chase you?'

"The Cat began to wash her face. Then Mr. Rabbit said to the Dog, 'Are you very strong?'

"'I certainly am,' replied the Dog.

"'Then why does the Stick scare you?'

"The Dog began to scratch the fleas off his neck, and Mr. Rabbit said to the Stick, 'Are you very strong?'

"'Everybody says so.'

"'Then how can the Fire burn you?'

"The Stick was dumb, and Mr. Rabbit asked the Fire, 'Are you very strong?'

"'Anybody will tell you so,' the Fire answered.

"'How can the Water quench you?'

"The Fire hid behind the smoke. Then Mr. Rabbit asked the Water, 'Are you very strong?'

"'Strong is no name for it,' said the Water.

"'How can the Ice cover you?'

"The Water went running down the river, and after it had gone the Ice said to Mr. Rabbit, 'You see you had to come back to me at last.'

"'Yes,' replied Mr. Rabbit, 'and now I am going away. You are too much for me.' Then Mr. Rabbit loped off, rubbing his bruises."

"Was it really you, Mr. Rabbit?" asked Sweetest Susan.

Mr. Rabbit rubbed his mustache with the end of his pipe-stem. "Well, I'll tell you the truth. I was mighty foolish in my young days. But now all I want to do is to eat breakfast, and then wait until dinner is ready, and then sit and wait until supper is put on the table."

Mrs. Meadows winked at the children and then turned to Mr. Rabbit.

"Now," said she, "I've told the story you ought to have told, for you know more about it than anybody else. It's as little as you can do to sing the old song that you sung when you used to go frolicking."

"Why, it's about myself!" exclaimed Mr. Rabbit. "At my time of life it would never do."

"Please make him sing it," said Sweetest Susan, who was much given to getting her own way by the pretty little art of coaxing.

"Oh, he'll sing it," replied Mrs. Meadows confidently. "He can't refuse."

Mr. Rabbit shook his head, and then seemed to fall into a brown study, but suddenly, seeing that they were all waiting for the song, he cleared up his throat, and after several false starts sang this song:--

OH, THIS IS MR. RABBIT!

Oh, this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass; He courted Miss Meadows, when her ma was away, He crossed his legs, and said his say. He crossed his legs, and he winked his eye, And then he told Miss Meadows good-by. So it's good-by, ducky, And it's good-by, dear! I'll never come to see you Until next year! For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.

And he cried from the gate, so bold and free: "I know you are glad to get rid of me." And then Miss Meadows shook her head-- "If you stay too long you'll find me dead. And it's good-by, ducky, And it's good-by, dear! You'll find me dead When you come next year!" For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.

Mr. Owl called out from the top of the tree, "Oh, who? Oh, who?" and "He-he-he!" Mr. Fox slipped off in the woods and cried; Mr. Coon's broken heart caused a pain in his side. For it's good-by, ducky, And it's good-by, dear! If you ever come to see me, Come before next year! For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.

Mr. Rabbit looked around, and saw all the trouble, And he laughed and he laughed till he bent over double. He shook his head, and said his say-- "I'll come a-calling when to-morrow is to-day. For when you have a ducky, Don't stay--don't stay-- Go off and come again When to-morrow is to-day." For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.

IV.

TWO QUEER STORIES.

There is no doubt the children were very much surprised to see Mr. Rabbit. They were astonished to find that he was so large and solemn-looking. When the negroes on the plantation told them about Mr. Rabbit--or Brother Rabbit, as he was sometimes called--they had imagined that he was no larger than the rabbits they saw in the sedge-field or in the barley-patch, but this Mr. Rabbit was larger than a dozen of them put together.

In one way or another Sweetest Susan and Buster John and Drusilla showed their amazement very plainly--especially Drusilla, who took no pains to conceal hers. Every time Mr. Rabbit moved she would nudge Sweetest Susan or Buster John and exclaim: "Look at dat!" or, "We better be gwine!" or, "Spozen Brer Fox er Brer Wolf come up an' dey er dat big!"

Mrs. Meadows noticed this; indeed, she could not help noticing it. And so she said:--

"I reckon maybe you expected to find Mr. Rabbit no bigger than the rest of his family that live in your country."

Before the children could make any answer, Mr. Rabbit began to chuckle, and he chuckled so heartily that Sweetest Susan was afraid he would choke.

"I don't wonder you laugh," said Mrs. Meadows, elevating her voice a little, as if Mr. Rabbit were a little deaf.

"It may not be polite to laugh in company," replied Mr. Rabbit, "but I am obliged to do it." His voice was wheezy, and he nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, I am obliged to do it. Why, I could put one of those poor creatures in my coat-pocket. They are not Rabbits. They are Runts. Yes, Runts. That's what they are. And to think, too, that their great-grandparents might have come here when I did. But, no! They wouldn't hear to it. No new country for them, they said. And so they stayed where they were, and the breed has dwindled down to--to nothing. I'll be bound they have forgotten how to talk." He turned to the children with a look of inquiry.

"Why, of course, rabbits can't talk," said Buster John.