Part 13

“The greedy merchants were not long in finding out that the man kept a coal-black sheep and a snow-white-goat in his stable sure enough; and, after a good deal of persuading and flattering, they got him to consent to bring his coal-black sheep and his snow-white goat to the tavern, so that they might see for themselves how rare and valuable the animals were.

“Well, one night after his wife and children had gone to bed, the man carried the sheep and the goat to the tavern, and showed them to the merchants. They offered him immense sums of money for the animals, but he refused them all. Then they invited him to remain to a banquet which they had prepared. He wanted to carry his sheep and his goat back home, and then return to the banquet; but the merchants said the table was already spread, and he could tie his wonderful animals in the rear hall, where nobody would bother them.

“Meantime, the merchants had sent out into the country and bought a black sheep and a white goat; and while some of them were pouring wine down the man’s goozle, others were untying the wonderful black sheep and white goat, and putting in their place the animals that had been bought. When the time came for the man to go home, he was so wobbly in the legs and so befuddled in the head that he couldn’t tell the difference between a sheep and a goat. In fact, he had forgotten all about them, until one of the merchants asked him if he wasn’t going to take his rare and valuable animals back home.

“The strange sheep and goat were not used to being led about at night by a man with wobbly legs and a befuddled head, and they cut up such queer capers that it was much as the man could do to keep on his feet at all. But, after so long a time, he managed to get them home, and tied them in the stable.

“So far, so good: but the next morning, when the boy and the girl got up betimes and went out to feed their pets, as they were in the habit of doing, they saw at once that something had happened. Their precious pets had been made way with, and these rough, dirty, and mean-looking animals put in their place. One glance was enough to satisfy the children of this, and they set up such a wail that the whole neighborhood was aroused. Even their father stuck his head out of the window and asked what was the matter. His head was still befuddled by the night’s banquet, but his alarm sobered him instantly when he heard what his children said. He wouldn’t believe it at first; but when he went out into the stable and saw for himself, he was nearly beside himself with grief. He declared that it was all his fault, and told what he had done the night before.

“He was now as poor as he ever was; and his wife said she wasn’t sorry a bit, because he would now have a chance to go to work and an excuse for not hanging around the tavern. But the children begged him to go after their coal-black sheep and their snow-white goat.

“This he promised to do, and he made haste to go to the tavern. The merchants were still there, but they only laughed at him when he asked them for his sheep and his goat. They called on the tavern-keeper to witness that the man had started home with a black sheep and a white goat.

“‘That is true,’ said the man, ‘and I have them there now. But they are not mine. Some of you ruffians stole mine and put these in their place.’

“The merchants pretended to be very angry at this, and made as if they would fall on the man with their fists. But he was a stout fellow, and was armed with a stout hickory, and so they merely threatened. But the man failed to get his coal-black sheep and his snow-white goat, and went home full of grief and remorse.”

XXIII.

THE BUTTING COW AND THE HITTING STICK.

“I hope that isn’t the end of the story,” remarked Buster John.

“Well,” replied Mr. Rabbit, “we can either cut it off here, or we can carry it on for weeks and weeks.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Mrs. Meadows; “or, if you want to, you can tell the rest of the story yourself. No doubt you can tell it a great deal better than I can.”

“Now you’ll have to excuse me,” remarked Mr. Rabbit. “I thought maybe you were getting tired, and wanted to rest. Go on with the tale. I’m getting old and trembly in the limbs, but I can stand it if the rest can.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Meadows, turning to Buster John and Sweetest Susan, “the children were very much worried over the loss of the coal-black sheep and the snow-white goat, and they made up their minds to try and get them back. The boy said he would go and ask Uncle Rain’s advice, and the girl said she would visit Brother Drouth once more. So they started on their journey, one going east and the other going south.

“They met with no adventure by the way, and, having traveled the road once, they were not long in coming to the end of their journey. The boy found Uncle Rain at home, and told him all about the loss of his beautiful black sheep. Uncle Rain grunted at the news, and looked very solemn.

“‘That’s about the way I thought it would be,’ said he. ‘It takes a mighty strong-minded person to stand prosperity. But you needn’t be afraid. Your sheep is not lost. The men who have stolen him can stand great prosperity no better than your father can. They will wrangle among themselves, and they will never take the sheep away from the tavern. But they shall be punished. Come with me.’

“Uncle Rain went out into his barnyard, and the boy followed him. He went to a stall where a black cow was tied. ‘This,’ said he, ‘is the butting cow. You are to take her with you. She will allow no one to come near her but you, and when you give her the word she will run over and knock down whoever and whatever is in sight. She knows the black sheep, too, for they have long been in the barn together. When she begins to low, the black sheep will bleat, and in that way you may know when you have found it. More than that, the cow will give you the most beautiful golden butter that ever was seen.’

“Uncle Rain untied the cow, placed the end of the rope in the boy’s hand, and bade him good-by. The boy went back the way he came, the cow following closely and seeming to be eager to go with him.

“The girl, who had taken the road to Brother Drouth’s house, arrived there safely and told her trouble. Brother Drouth said he was very sorry about it, but as it was not a thing to weep over, he didn’t propose to shed any tears.

“‘What’s done,’ he said, ‘can’t be undone; but I’ll see that it’s not done over again.’ He went to a corner of the room, picked up a walking-stick, and gave it to the little girl. ‘We have here,’ he said, ‘a walking-stick. It is called the hitting stick. Whenever you are in danger, or whenever you want to punish your enemies, you have only to say: “Hit, stick! Stick, hit!” and neither one man nor a hundred can stand up against it. It is not too heavy for you to carry, but if your hands grow tired of carrying it, just say, “Jump, stick!” and the stick will jump along before you or by your side, just as you please.’

“Then Brother Drouth bade the girl good-by; and she went on her way, sometimes carrying the hitting stick, and sometimes making it jump along the road before her.

“Now, then, while all this was going on, the greedy merchants found themselves in a fix. When they first got hold of the coal-black sheep and the snow-white goat, they thought that they had had a good deal of trouble for nothing. But merchants, especially the merchants of those days, when there was not as much trade as there is now, had very sharp eyes, and it was not long before they found the springs under the horns of the sheep and the goat. Having found the treasure, they remembered that the man had spent more money in two days than the horns of the animals would hold, and this led them to discover that the horns were always full of treasure.

“For a little while they were very happy, and congratulated one another many times over. But in the midst of their enjoyment the thought came to them that there must be a division of this treasure. The moment the subject was broached, the wrangle began. There were more than a dozen of the merchants, and the question was how to divide the treasure so that each might have an equal share. Though they took millions from the horns of the black sheep and the white goat, yet whoever had the animals would still have the most.

“It was a mighty serious question. They argued, they reasoned, they disputed, and they wrangled, and once or twice they came near having a pitched battle. But finally, after many days, it was decided that one party of merchants should have the black sheep and that another party should have the white goat. This didn’t satisfy all of them, but it was the best that could be done; and so they departed, the party with the white goat going south, and the party with the black sheep going east.

“Now, a very curious thing happened. If either party had kept on traveling, it would have met the boy or the girl; one with the butting cow, and the other with the hitting stick. But both parties were dissatisfied; and they had gone but a little way before they stopped, and after some talk determined to go back. The merchants with the white goat determined to follow on after the merchants that had the black sheep, and secure the animal by fair means or foul. The merchants with the black sheep determined to follow the merchants with the white goat, and buy the animal or seize him. So each party turned back.

“The merchants with the white goat reached the tavern first. They had hardly refreshed themselves, when the tavern-keeper came running in, to tell them that the other merchants were coming.

“‘Then take our white goat and hide it in your stable,’ they said.

“The landlord did as he was bid; and then meeting the merchants with the black sheep, he told them that their companions of the morning had also returned.

“‘Then take our black sheep and hide it in your stable,’ they said. This the landlord quickly did, and returned to the tavern in time to hear the merchants greet each other.

“‘What are you doing here?’ asked the black sheep merchants.

“‘We have lost our white goat,’ they replied, ‘and have come here to hunt it. Why have you returned?’

“‘We have come on the same errand,’ said the others. ‘We have lost our black sheep, and have returned to find it.’

“Now, the tavern-keeper was not a very smart man, but he had no lack of shrewdness and cunning. He had heard the merchants wrangling and quarreling over the black sheep and the white goat, and now he saw them coming back pretending to be hunting for both the animals, though neither one was lost. He had sense enough to see that there must be something very valuable about the black sheep and the white goat; and so, while the merchants were taking their refreshments, each party eyeing the other with suspicion, the tavern-keeper slipped out into his stable, and carried the black sheep and the white goat to an outhouse out of sight and hearing of the guests.

“As for the merchants, they were in a pickle. Neither party wanted to go away and leave the other at the tavern; so they waited and waited,—the black sheep party waiting for the white goat party to go, and the white goat party waiting for the black sheep party to go.

“‘When do you leave?’ says one.

“‘As soon as we find our sheep. When do you leave?’ says the other.

“‘Quite as soon.’

“There was not much satisfaction in this for either side. Finally, one of the merchants called the tavern-keeper aside, and asked him where he had put the black sheep.

“‘In my stable, your honor,’ replied the man.

“Then another merchant called the tavern-keeper aside, and asked him where he had put the white goat.

“‘In my stable, your honor,’ he replied.

“Now as each of these merchants went out to see that his precious animal was safe, it was perfectly natural that they should see each other slipping about in the yard, and that they should meet face to face in the stable. Both made the excuse that they thought they might find their lost animals at that point, and both were terribly worked up when they saw that the stable was empty. Each went back and told his companions, and pretty soon there was the biggest uproar in that house that the tavern-keeper had ever heard.

“Both parties went running to the stable, falling over each other on the way; but the black sheep and the white goat were gone. Then the merchants went running back into the tavern, and all began yelling at the tavern-keeper. Instead of making any answer, that cunning chap put his fingers in his ears, and politely asked the merchants if they wanted to jar the roof off of the house. They danced around him, yelling and shaking their fists at him, but he kept his fingers in his ears.

“Finally, they caught hold of the man, and began to pull and haul him around at a great rate. In this way they compelled him to take his fingers out of his ears; but he could hear little better, for the whole crowd was dancing around and squalling like a lot of crazy people at a picnic. All the tavern-keeper could hear was:—

“‘Where’s our’—‘You’ve got our’—‘Sheep!’ ‘Goat!’

“There was more noise than sense to this rippit. There was so much noise that it roused the whole neighborhood, and the people of the village came running in to see what the trouble was. Among them was the mayor; and he succeeded in quieting the rumpus, not because he was mayor, but because he had a louder voice than any of them.

“When everything was quiet, the mayor asked the merchants why they were acting like crazy people.

“‘Because this man has robbed us,’ they cried, pointing to the tavern-keeper.

“‘Of what has he robbed you?’ asked the mayor.

“‘Of a black sheep and a white goat,’ they replied.

“‘Your honor,’ said the tavern-keeper, when the mayor had turned to him, ‘you have known me all my life, and have never heard that I was a thief. I want to ask these men a few questions.’ By this time the two parties of merchants had ranged themselves on different sides of the room. The tavern-keeper turned to the black sheep party. ‘Didn’t the men over there come into this house and tell you that they had lost their white goat?’

“‘They certainly did,’ was the reply.

“Then he turned to the white goat party. ‘Didn’t the men over there tell you that they had lost their black sheep and had come back to hunt it?’

“‘They certainly did,’ came the answer.

“Both parties tried to explain that they had placed their animals in charge of the tavern-keeper, but while they were hemming and hawing a queer thing happened. The boy had come up with his butting cow; and seeing the merchants still in the tavern, he led her to the door, and told her to do her whole duty, and nothing but her duty.

“While the merchants were trying to explain, the cow rushed into the room with a bellow, her tail curled over her back, and went at the men with head down and horn points up. Tables and chairs were nothing to the butting cow. She ran over them and through them; and in a little while the room was cleared of the merchants, and some of them were hurt so badly that they could scarcely crawl away.

“The mayor had jumped through a window, and the village people had scattered in all directions. By this time the tavern-keeper, who had remained unhurt, was laughing to himself at the fix the merchants found themselves in, for the butting cow was still pursuing them. But he laughed too soon. The little girl came to the door with her hitting stick.

“‘Hit, stick! Stick, hit!’ she cried; and in an instant the stick was mauling the tavern-keeper over the head and shoulders and all about the body.

“‘Help! help!’ shouted the tavern-keeper. ‘Somebody run here! Help! I’ll tell you where they are! I’ll show you where they are!’

“‘Stop, stick!’ said the girl. ‘Now show me where my snow-white goat is.’

“‘Yes!’ exclaimed the boy. ‘Show me where my coal-black sheep is!’

“‘Come,’ said the tavern-keeper; and he went as fast as he could to the outhouse where he had hid the animals. They were in there, safe and sound, and the children made haste to carry them home.

“So the farmer was once more rich and prosperous. He shunned the tavern and kept at work, and in this way prosperity brought happiness and content to all the family. And by giving freely to the poor they made others happy too.”

XXIV.

THE FATE OF THE DIDDYPAWN.

“It has always been mighty curious to me,” said Mr. Rabbit, “why everything and everybody is not contented with what they’ve got. There’d be lots less trouble in the country next door if everybody was satisfied.”

“Well,” remarked Mr. Thimblefinger, “some people have nothing at all. I hope you don’t want a man who has nothing to be satisfied. An empty pocket makes an empty stomach, and an empty stomach has a way of talking so it can be heard.”

“That is true,” replied Mr. Rabbit; “but there is a living in the world for every creature, if he will only get out of bed and walk about and look for it. But a good many folks and a heap of the animals think that if there is a living in the world for everybody, it ought to be handed round in a silver dish. Then there are some folks and a great many creatures that are not satisfied with what they are, but want to be somebody or something else. That sort of talk puts me in mind of the Diddypawn.”

“What is the Diddypawn?” asked Buster John.

“Well, it would be hard to tell you at this time of day,” replied Mr. Rabbit, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There are no Diddypawns now, and I don’t know that I ever saw but one. He is the chap I’m going to tell you about. He was a great big strong creature, with a long head and short ears, and eyes that could see in the dark. He had legs that could carry him many a mile in a day, and teeth strong enough to crunch an elephant’s hind leg. The Diddypawn would have weeded a wide row if he had been a mind to; but, instead of doing that, he just lay in the mud on the river bank, and let the sun shine and the rain fall. He had but to reach down in the water to pick up a fish, or up in the bushes to catch a bird.

“But all this didn’t make his mind easy. He wasn’t contented. The thought came to him that a fine large creature such as he was ought to be able to swim as fast as a fish, and fly as high as a bird. So he worried and worried and worried about it, until there was no peace in that neighborhood. All the creatures that crawled, or walked, or swam, or flew, heard of the Diddypawn’s troubles. At first they paid no attention to him, but he groaned so long and he groaned so loud that they couldn’t help but pay attention. They couldn’t sleep at night, and they couldn’t have any peace in the daytime.

“For I don’t know how long the Diddypawn rolled and tumbled in the mud, and moaned and groaned because he didn’t have as many fins as the fishes and as many feathers as the birds. He moaned and mumbled in the daytime, and groaned and grumbled at night. The other creatures paid no attention to him at first; but matters went from bad to worse, and they soon found that they had to do something or leave the country.

“So, after awhile the fishes held a convention, and the porpoise and the catfish made speeches, saying that the Diddypawn was in a peck of trouble, and asking what could be done for him. Finally, after a good deal of talk about one thing and another, the convention of fishes concluded to call on the Diddypawn in a body, and ask him what in the name of goodness he wanted.

“This they did; and the reply that the Diddypawn made was that he wanted to know how to swim as well as any fish. There wasn’t anything unreasonable in this; and so the convention, after a good deal more talk, said that the best way to do would be for every fish to lend the Diddypawn a fin.

“The convention told the Diddypawn about this, and it made him grin from one ear to the other to think that he would be able to swim as fast as the fishes. He rolled from the bank into the shallow water, and the fishes, as good as their word, loaned him each a fin. With these the Diddypawn found he was able to get about in the water right nimbly. He swam around and around, far and near, and finally reached an island where there were some trees.

“‘Don’t go too near the land,’ says the catfish. ‘Don’t go too near the land,’ says the perch.

“‘Don’t bother about me,’ says the Diddypawn. “I can walk on the land as well as I can swim in the water.’

“‘But our fins!’ says the catfish and the perch. ‘If you go on land and let them dry in the sun, they’ll be no good to either us or you.’

“‘No matter,’ says the Diddypawn, ‘on the land I’ll go, and I’ll be bound the fins will be just as limber after they get dry as they were when they were wet.’

“But the fishes set up such a cry and made such a fuss that the Diddypawn concluded to give them back their fins, while he went on dry land and rested himself. He went on the island, and stretched himself out in the tall grass at the foot of the big trees, and soon fell asleep. When he awoke, the sun was nearly down. He crawled to the waterside, and soon saw that the fishes had all gone away. He had no way of calling them up or of sending them a message, and so there he was.

“While the Diddypawn was lying there wondering how he was going to get back home, he heard a roaring and rustling noise in the air. Looking up, he saw that the sky was nearly black with birds. They came in swarms, in droves, and in flocks. There were big birds and little birds, and all sorts and sizes of birds. The trees on the island were their roosting-place, but they were coming home earlier than usual, because they wanted to get rid of the moanings and groanings of the Diddypawn.

“The birds came and settled in the trees, and were about to say good-night to one another, when the Diddypawn rolled over, and began to moan and groan and growl and grumble. At once the birds ceased their chattering, and began to listen. Then they knew they would have no sound sleep that night if something wasn’t done; and so the King-Bird flew down, lit close to the Diddypawn’s ear, and asked him what in the name of goodness gracious he was doing there, how he got there, and what the trouble was anyway.

“All the answer the Diddypawn made was to roll over on his other side, and moan and mumble. Once more the King-Bird fluttered in the air, and lit near the Diddypawn’s ear, and asked him what in the name of goodness gracious he was doing there, how he got there, and what the trouble was anyway. For answer, the Diddypawn turned on the other side, and groaned and grumbled.

“How long this was kept up I’ll never tell you, but after a while, the Diddypawn said the trouble with him was that he wanted to fly. He said he would fly well enough if he only had feathers; but, as it was, he didn’t have a feather to his name, or to his hide either.

“Well, the birds held a convention over this situation, and after a good deal of loud talk, it was decided that each bird should lend the Diddypawn a feather. This was done in the midst of a good deal of fluttering and chattering. When the Diddypawn was decked out in his feathers, he strutted around and shook his wings at a great rate.

“‘Where shall I fly to?’ he asked.

“Now, there was another island not far away, on which everything was dead,—the trees, the bushes, the grass, and even the honeysuckle vines. But some of the trees were still standing. With their lack of leaf and twig they looked like a group of tall, black lighthouses. When the Diddypawn asked where he should fly, Brother Turkey Buzzard made this remark:—

“‘If you want to fly fast and not fly far, Fly to the place where the dead trees are!’

“To this the Diddypawn made reply,—