Part 5

Then Mr. Robin set off home to get ready, for there were only two days more in April and everybody had to scramble around to be ready in time, especially Mr. Jack Rabbit, who had to write a poem. Over at Mr. Fox's house the feathers were flying, and at the Hollow Tree Mr. Crow had his sleeves rolled up, baking all day long. The 'Coon sat in his room and rocked and planned games, and the 'Possum followed Mr. Crow about and told him new things to cook. Everywhere in the woods, and even out in the Wide Grass Lands, folks were staying up nights to get ready, but none of them felt as happy or took as much trouble to look well as Mr. Dog. He knew there couldn't be any joke this time, because Mr. Robin had invited him, and Mr. Robin wouldn't play a joke on anybody. Every little while he would go out and roll on the grass in the sun and then go in and put on his new clothes and stand before the glass. Then he would march up and down and try to see if his coat wrinkled under the arms and if his trousers fitted neatly around the waist. As he thought the party was to be given for him, of course he wasn't expected to bring anything except all the style he could put on, and when the morning came Mr. Dog did put on all he could carry, and took one more look at himself in the glass and started. He had never felt so happy in his life.

HOW MR. DOG GOT EVEN

CONTINUED

THE SURPRISE OF MR. RABBIT AND OTHERS

Poor Mr. Dog! He did not dream that the Robin had made a big mistake when he invited him. He was all ready for a grand time and thought he was to be the guest of honor. But the 'Coon and the 'Possum and all the rest thought he was in another part of the country that day, and when they got to the place where the party was to be they shook hands and laughed about how Mr. Crow had played it on Mr. Dog and then rolled on the grass and cut up in a great way.

Mr. Fox was there with all his folks, and Mr. Squirrel and his folks, and Mr. Weasel and Mr. Woodchuck and Mrs. Quail, and ever so many others. Mr. Rabbit had picked out the spot, which was a pretty, green, open place in the woods, and right in the centre of it a little weeping willow tree, with long, trailing branches like ribbons. This was to be their May pole, and they were so happy that they commenced dancing almost as soon as they got there. Mr. Dog, of course, hadn't arrived yet. It had taken him so long to dress, and then he had a long way to come, so he was late.

Pretty soon Mr. 'Possum puffed and blowed because he was so fat, and said he thought they ought to sit right down and begin to eat, and let Mr. Jack Rabbit read his poem to them through the first course. The Rabbit was willing to do that, for he would rather read his own poetry than eat any time, and, besides, the first course was something he didn't like very well. So then they all sat down around the table cloth which they had spread on the grass, and Mr. Rabbit got up and put his right hand in the breast of his coat. He commenced by saying that his friends seemed to think he was a good deal of a poet, but that he had always been too busy to really write his best, and that all his poems, like the one he was just about to read, had been little inspirations tossed off on the spur of the moment. Of course, everybody there knew that Jack Rabbit had sat up two whole days and nights to write his poem, but they all cheered and clapped their hands, and Mr. Rabbit bowed and coughed a little and began to read:--

WHEN MR. DOG'S AWAY.

By J. Rabbit.

Oh, 'tis happy in the woodland When Mr. Dog's away; 'Tis happy in the woodland Upon the first of May. He's gone across the grassland We hope he's gone to stay; Then don't forget the feast is set And Mr. Dog's away.

The Robin was just about to speak up at this moment and say that Mr. Dog was surely coming, but the others cheered so that nobody heard him, and Mr. Rabbit went on with his poem.

Then 'tis hey! for Mr. Woodchuck! And tis hi! for Mrs. Quail! And 'tis ho! for Mr. 'Possum With a bowknot on his tail! Then 'tis hip! for Mr. Robin And for all the rest, hurray! The friends are met, the feast is set, And Mr. Dog's away.

"Hurray! hurray!" shouted all the others. "The friends are met, the feast is set, and Mr. Dog's away!"

Then hand around the glasses And fill them to the brim, And drink a health to Mr. Dog, For we are fond of him. And, though he be not present Upon this happy day, We'll fill the cup and drink it up To Mr. Dog away!

At the last line everybody was just about to lift their glasses and give a great big cheer for the poem, when all at once they saw by Jack Rabbit's face that something was wrong. Then they all looked where he was looking, and there, right before them, bowing and smiling, stood Mr. Dog himself! He had just come in time to hear the last stanza of the poem and was ready to dance with joy, he was so happy to think they were drinking his health when he wasn't there.

He felt so good that he didn't notice how surprised they looked, and slipped into a seat at the table, saying he was sorry to be late, and that he had just heard the last lines of Mr. Rabbit's poem, but that they had made him very proud and happy, and he hoped Mr. Jack Rabbit would read it again for his benefit.

Of course, nearly everybody there was scared almost into fits, but they didn't dare to let on, for they saw that there had been an awful mistake somewhere, and if Mr. Dog found it out and knew he hadn't been invited no telling what might happen. Jack Rabbit smiled, kind of sickly like, and said that he had been overcome by the excitement, and didn't feel quite able to read the poem again. He said he hoped Mr. Dog would judge the first verses, though, by the last, and feel just as glad to be there as they were to have him. And all the rest said, "Oh, yes, so glad to have Mr. Dog with us," and kept piling things oh his plate, so he wouldn't want anything to eat besides his dinner. Mr. Dog felt so well and was in such a good humor that he commenced pretty soon to tell stories and jokes on himself, and by and by told about the time he went over to take dancing lessons of Jack Rabbit.

Everybody thought at first that they'd better laugh at Mr. Dog's jokes, and they did laugh like everything, but when he started that story about what Mr. Rabbit had done to him they didn't know whether to laugh or not. Some laughed a little and some didn't, and Mr. Rabbit said he thought it was getting a little too warm for him there in the sun, and he believed he'd go and sit in the shade a minute and cool off, so he went over behind some waxberry bushes, where it was shady, and the minute he got where Mr. Dog couldn't see him he set out for home just about as fast as he could travel, without stopping to say goodby or to look behind him.

Pretty soon Mr. 'Coon said he thought mebbe Mr. Rabbit was sicker than he let on, and he guessed he'd better go and see about it. So he went over behind the waxberry bushes, too, and was half way home before you could say "Jack Robinson." Then Mr. 'Possum told Mr. Crow that he hoped he and the others would entertain Mr. Dog a while, for he knew Mr. 'Coon would need help, and away he went, and before long Mr. Fox and Mr. Woodchuck, and Mr. Squirrel and all their folks had gone over behind the waxberry bushes to look after Mr. Rabbit too, and none of them wasted a minute's time making tracks for home as soon as they got out of sight.

But the Crow and the Turtle and the Robin didn't go because they were all on good terms with Mr. Dog. Mrs. Quail didn't go either, though before long most everybody else had gone. Then Mr. Crow said he guessed poor Mr. Rabbit's friends had taken him home, and Mr. Dog said he was sorry, and that it was too bad anything should happen that way when folks were having such a good time. He said he'd call at Jack Rabbit's house next day to see how he was and hear the rest of that poem. Then Mr. Crow and Mr. Turtle laughed and laughed, and Mr. Dog didn't know what they were laughing at, but he felt so well that he laughed too, and Mr. Robin, who had found out by this time what a bad mistake he had made, couldn't help laughing some himself.

Then they had dessert, and Mr. Dog made a speech and thanked them for the fine party and surprise in his honor, and declared he had never spent such a happy day in all his life. He said there had been a little misunderstanding now and then between himself and some of the forest folks, but he knew now that all was forgiven, and that he would never forget this happy May party.

And Mr. Dog never did forget it, concluded the Story Teller--at least not for a long time--and he doesn't know to this day that the party wasn't given specially for him, or that Mr. Jack Rabbit's poem wasn't written in his honor.

"You can sing the Hollow Tree Song, now," said the Little Lady, drowsily.

So then the Story Teller sang the song that the forest people sing when, on dark nights in the far depths of the Deep Woods, they are feasting at the table of the 'Coon, the 'Possum and the Old Black Crow.

Long before he had finished, the Little Lady was in the land of dreams.

And the Story Teller had been dreaming, too, while he sang.

THE HOLLOW TREE SONG.

Oh, there was an old 'Possum in the Big Deep Woods-- As fat as a 'Possum could be-- And he lived in a hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, He lived in a hollow tree.

Oh, there was an old Coon in the Big Deep Woods-- As sly as a 'Coon could be-- And he lived in a hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, He lived in a hollow tree.

Oh, there was an old Crow in the Big Deep Woods-- As black as a Crow could be-- And he lived in a hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, He lived in a hollow tree.

For they all lived together in the Big Deep Woods, As you can plainly see, And the 'Possum made one, and the 'Coon made two, And the Old Black Crow made three.

Then here's to the 'Possum, and the Old Black Crow, And the 'Coon, with a one, two, three! And here's to the hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, hollow, And here's to the hollow tree.

THE LITTLE LADY'S VACATION AND HER RETURN

The Little Lady who lives in the House of Many Windows (sometimes called a flat or an apartment by people who, because they are grown up, do not know any better) had been spending the summer on a nice farm in the Land of Pleasant Fields. There had been many things to see--little pigs among other things, and some very small chickens. Also a cow with two calves--one a dark red one, and one spotted, even to its tail, that looked like a barber pole.

Amid all this, and a great deal more, not forgetting the Hillside of Sweet Fruits, the Little Lady had almost forgotten a number of people who lived in the Big Deep Woods, and whose acquaintance she had made through the Story Teller during the winter before, while sailing at evening in the Rockaby Chair for the Shore of White Pillows.

But when the cold winds began to blow and they were all back to the City of Rumbling Streets in the House of Many Windows again and she heard the wind men moaning in the speaking tube, she forgot even the striped tailed calf, and remembered all at once the dark forest and the queer people who dwelt there. And when the Story Teller that night had drawn his chair up before the fire and sat rocking she climbed upon his knee and rocked, too, while he thought, and smoked, and looked into the blaze.

The Little Lady waited a good while. Then she took hold of the lapel of his coat and tugged it gently and looked up into the Story Teller's face.

"Tell me a story," she commanded softly. "One about Mr. Crow and Mr. 'Possum, and Mr. Jack Rabbit and all the others. What did they do this summer? You know; tell it."

The Story Teller grumbled something about not having met any of these fellows lately, and rocked a little harder and thought very fast.

"I s'pose you've heard about Mr. Crow's April fool," he said, as he knocked the ashes from his pipe into the grate.

"No, I haven't--not that story--I never heard that story," she said eagerly.

So, then, the Story Teller rocked some more, and half shut his eyes and began.

THE STORY OF THE C. X. PIE

MR. CROW PLANS AN APRIL FIRST PARTY AND PREPARES A SURPRISE FOR THE OCCASION

Once upon a time when the Crow and the 'Coon and the 'Possum lived together in three big hollow branches of a great Hollow Tree in the Big Deep Woods, and used to meet and have good times together in the parlor down stairs, the Crow made up his mind to have a party next day. He told the 'Coon and the 'Possum about it right away, and they asked him if he was going to have Mr. Dog this time, and Mr. Crow said "No" and looked foolish, because once he did have Mr. Dog just for a joke and got the worst of it himself.

"I remember about that," said the Little Lady.

That's what the Crow did, too--remembered, and he had never felt just right about the way he had been fooled when he meant to fool the others. So when they reminded him about Mr. Dog he said to himself that he would fool them yet, and he'd do it at this very party.

But he made b'lieve he was very meek and said he was going to have Mr. Jack Rabbit over, and Mr. Turtle, to make a full table, and that they would have chicken pie and hot biscuits with maple syrup for dinner. This suited the 'Coon and the 'Possum exactly, for Mr. Crow was the best cook anywhere in the country, and they were both fond of good things. The 'Coon said he'd go right away with the invitation for Jack Rabbit, and the 'Possum said that he felt like taking a walk anyway, and that he'd pass around by the Wide Blue Water where Mr. Turtle lived, and tell him. So off they went and left Mr. Crow all alone to think about it and get ready.

He walked back and forth a while in his own room and scratched his head, and then he went down stairs out in the sun and thought some more. All at once he jumped right straight up and laughed, for he happened to remember that it was the last day of March, and that it was the very thing to have a party on April fool day, and fool the 'Possum and the 'Coon in some way, so that the others would laugh and say it was the best joke of the season. Then he thought of a way to fool them, and pretty soon he had that fixed, too.

He didn't wait a minute, but went right to cooking and baking just as hard as ever he could, and pretty soon he had three chicken pies done, as fine looking as any you ever saw. And two of them were fine, sure enough--just as fine as Mr. Crow could make them--but the other wasn't chicken at all. It was made out of leaves and sticks, and the only thing good about it was the crust. This pie he intended for the 'Coon and the 'Possum, and one of the good ones was for Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Turtle. The last one was for himself, with an extra piece over for anybody that might happen to want a second helping.

Well, he set them all in a row on the kitchen table, and walked up and down looking at them and laughing and thinking what fun it would be for the others when Mr. 'Possum and Mr. 'Coon cut their pie and tried to eat what was inside of it. He had the pies set on the table so he knew just which was which, and besides had made some letters on the upper crust so the right ones would be sure to get them. On the leaf pie he had "P. C.," for 'Possum and 'Coon. On one of the others he had "R. T.," for Rabbit and Turtle. On the last one he had "C. X.," which stood for Crow, and an extra piece for manners. He had put these letters where the fancy thing is in the centre of pies, and had joined them together so you'd hardly notice them at first.

All at once, while he was looking at them and laughing, he heard Mr. 'Coon and Mr. 'Possum coming back. Then he called out to them and asked them if they had invited the guests and told them to come up and see the pies he had made while they were gone. So they came up and looked at them, and said they certainly were fine, and that Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Turtle were busy getting out their best clothes, and would be there early.

Then the Crow said he guessed he'd slip over to Mr. Man's pantry and borrow some maple syrup while Mr. Man was at dinner and be back for early supper. So off he went and left the 'Coon and the 'Possum there together.

When he'd been gone awhile Mr. 'Possum said he believed he'd take one more look at those nice pies, and Mr. 'Coon said he guessed he would, too. So they went up to Mr. Crow's kitchen again and stood and looked at them till they were so hungry that Mr. 'Possum licked out his tongue and walked up and smelled of them. First he smelled a good long smell of the C. X. pie--so--and said, "O-o-oh! How nice!" Then he smelled a very long smell of the R. T. pie--so----and said, "O-o-o-o-oh! How delicious!" Then he smelled a very, very long smell of the P. C. pie--so------and said, "O-o-o-o-o-oh! How strange!"

That made the 'Coon want to smell, too, and when he had smelled of all three he said that there certainly did seem to be a difference in those pies, and that the last one had a sort of a woodsy spring-like flavor, like the first of April. That made the 'Possum jump, and he said he had not remembered till that very minute that to-morrow was the first, sure enough. Then he said he didn't suppose Mr. Crow would care how the pies were set on the table, so he moved them about and put the P. C. pie where the C. X. pie had stood, and the C. X. pie at the end instead of the P. C. pie. But while he was doing it he happened to notice the joined letters in the middle of the pies, which he hadn't seen before. He looked at first one and then the other, and studied a minute what to do. Then he picked up an old thin knife that Mr. Crow used for cutting around cake and slipping pies out sometimes when they stuck to the pan.

"Oh," said Mr. 'Coon. "I hope you're not going to cut them!"

"Well," said Mr. 'Possum, "Not so's you'll notice it."

Then he slipped the thin knife around the top crust of the P. C. pie and lifted it off carefully and looked in and made a very queer face. Mr. 'Coon came and looked in, too, and made another very queer face. Then Mr. 'Possum lifted off the top of the C. X. pie and looked in and smiled, and Mr. 'Coon looked in and smiled, too. There were two nice, fat chicken legs right on top, and Mr. 'Coon took one and Mr. 'Possum the other, because they said that as this was to be their pie any way, they might just as well have a little taste of it beforehand. Then they changed the covers and put the P. C. cover on the good pie and C. X. cover on the fool pie, and just then they heard Mr. Crow coming home, and slipped down into the parlor and up into their own rooms and pretended to be asleep when he came in.

THE STORY OF THE C. X. PIE

CONTINUED

MR. CROW'S PARTY AND THE OPENING OF THE PIES

Well, next morning Mr. Crow was down stairs bright and early, putting the big parlor room in order and setting the table. Pretty soon the 'Coon and 'Possum came down, too, and helped him, and now and then, when they happened to look at each other across the table, they would wink and smile, but they didn't say a word. By and by the three pies were brought in and set in a row at one end of the table, and nobody could tell from looking at them but what they were exactly as the Crow had baked them.

Just then there was a knock down stairs, and Mr. Rabbit came in carrying a large bunch of early flowers that he had gathered as he came along, and dressed in his new spring suit. They saw a little white roll in one of his coat pockets, too, and they knew it was a poem for the occasion, for Jack Rabbit writes poems whenever he gets a chance, specially in the early springtime.

Mr. Crow hurried out and got the pair of pink glass vases that Mr. 'Coon had given him for Christmas and put the flowers in them for the table, while he asked Jack Rabbit if it was muddy walking and if he had seen anything of Mr. Turtle.

Mr. Rabbit said that the ground was rather damp, but that he could pick his way pretty well, and that he had never seen such a wet spring since the year that the Wide Blue Water came up over his back garden and drowned his early pease. He hadn't seen Mr. Turtle, but just then Mr. Turtle himself waddled in with a basket of nice water salad, which he had gathered before starting. Then Mr. Crow hurried off to put his biscuits in the oven and left the others to sit around the table and talk.

After they had talked about the weather and told the latest things that had happened to Mr. Dog, who lived with Mr. Man, and whom none of them liked very well, the 'Possum said all at once that being this was April First he shouldn't wonder if it was to be a sort of surprise party in some way.

That made Mr. Turtle and Jack Rabbit curious right away, and they wanted to know what kind of a surprise he thought it was going to be and if he thought it would be a pleasant one. Mr. 'Possum said he was sure it would be pleasant, and then he looked at the three fine pies on the table and said it was just as apt to be in one of those pies as anywhere. Then Mr. Turtle said he'd heard of "four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie," and how they began to sing when the pie was opened, but he hoped it wouldn't be that kind of a surprise, for he didn't care much for blackbirds himself, specially in pies. The 'Possum said there might be one black bird sing when these pies were opened, but he didn't b'lieve there'd be any more, which made the 'Coon laugh so he nearly fell off his chair. Just then they heard the Crow coming, and the 'Possum whispered quick to the Turtle and the Rabbit that they must be sure and eat their pie all up and ask for more, as Mr. Crow was proud of his cooking and always felt offended when people didn't eat heartily.

Well, Mr. Crow came in carrying a great pan of fine biscuits and set them down in the middle of the table, while everybody said, "What lovely biscuits!" and asked whether they were made with buttermilk or baking powder, and wanted his recipe. Mr. Crow said he didn't have any recipe, but just took a pinch of this and a pinch of that, and that there was a good deal in the knack and in having things come natural, just as it was natural for Mr. Rabbit to write poetry. Then he said he hoped Mr. Rabbit hadn't forgotten to think up a few thoughts for this occasion, and Mr. Rabbit said that he had been too busy with spring work to write much lately, but that he did have a few lines in his pocket that they might be willing to listen to. So then he took out the roll he had brought and put on his glasses and stood up, while all the others sat still and listened.

Oh, sweet the month of April, When birds begin to twitter! When dewdrops on the clover And tender grasses glitter! When every shoot of lettuce That from the ground arises Gives promise of a salad-- Oh, month of sweet surprises!

You see Mr. Rabbit is a great gardener, and specially fond of young clover and tender salad.