Part 2

"Of course, as I say, I didn't want to stir up any fuss, but I couldn't keep still under such treatment as that, and I called right out to Mr. Man, where he sat looking at the fancy people riding, and told him that I had had enough of the show, and if he wanted to take any of me home he ought not to wait very long, but come over that way and see if he couldn't get the tame elephant to practise that performance on the hyena or the next dog, because I had had plenty, and was willing to go home just as I was, all in one piece, even if not very lively.

"Mr. Man _came_, too, and so did a lot of the others. They seemed to think that I was more to look at than those riding people; and some of them laughed, though what there was happening that was funny I have never been able to guess to this day. I kept right on telling Mr. Man what I wanted him to do, and mebbe I made a good deal of noise about it, for it seemed to stir up those other animals. There was a cage full of lions that started the most awful roaring you can think of, and a cage of crazy-looking things they called monkeys that screeched and howled and swung back and forth in rings and held on to the bars, and all the other things joined in, until I couldn't tell whether I was still saying anything or not. I suppose they were all jealous of the elephant because of the fun he was having, and howling to be let out so they could get hold of me too.

"Well, you never heard of such a time. It nearly broke up the show. Everybody ran over to look, and even the riding people stopped their horses to enjoy it, too. If it only hadn't been so dangerous and unpleasant I should have been proud of the way they came to see me perform.

"But Mr. Man didn't seem to like it much. I heard him tell somebody, as loud as he could, that I would be killed, and that I was the best dog he ever had, and that if I _was_ killed he'd sue the show.

"That made me proud, too, but I wished he wouldn't wait to sue the show, but would do something right away, and just then a man with a fancy dress on and a stick with a sharp iron hook on it came running up and said something I didn't understand and hit the elephant with the hook end of the stick, and he gave me an extra big swing and crack and flung me half-way across the tent, where I landed on a bunch of hay right in front of a long-necked thing called a camel--another terrible tame creature, I suppose--who had me about half eaten up with his old long under lip, before Mr. Man could get over there.

"When Mr. Man did get hold of me, he said that I'd better take what was left of me home, for they were going to feed the animals pretty soon, and that I would likely get mixed up with the bill of fare.

"After that he took me to the entrance and pushed me outside, and I heard all those fierce creatures in the cages growl and roar louder than ever, as if they had expected to sample me and were sorry to see me go.

"That's what a menagerie is--it's a place where they have all the kinds of animals and things in the world, for show, and a good many birds, and maybe turtles, too, but they don't have any fine clear pond. They have just a big tent, like the one Mr. Crow saw, and a lot of cages inside. They keep most of the animals in cages, and they ought to keep them all there, and I don't think they feed them very much, nor the best things, or they wouldn't look so fierce and hungry.

"They just keep them for Mr. Man and his friends to look at and talk about, and if Mr. Turtle will take my advice he will keep out of a menagerie and live in the Wide Blue Water where he was born. I wouldn't have gone there again unless I had been tied and dragged there, or unless they had put those tame animals into cages with the others. No doubt there are some very fine, strong animals in a menagerie, but they wouldn't be there if they could help it, and if anybody ever invites any of you to join a menagerie, take my advice and don't do it."

Then Mr. Dog knocked the ashes out of his pipe again, and all the other Deep Woods People knocked the ashes out of _their_ pipes, too, and filled them up fresh, and one said one thing, and one said another about being in a menagerie or out of it, and every one thought it would be a terrible thing to be shut up in a cage, except Mr. 'Possum, who said he wouldn't mind it if they would let him sleep enough and give him all he could eat, but that a cage without those things would be a lonesome place.

Then Mr. 'Coon said that a little adventure had happened to him once which he had never mentioned before, because he had never known just what to make of it; but he knew now, he said, that he had come very near getting into a menagerie, and he would tell them just what happened.

The Story Teller looked down at the quiet figure in his lap. The Little Lady's head was nestled close to his shoulder, and her eyes were straining very hard to keep open.

"I think we will save Mr. 'Coon's story till another night," he said.

THE SECOND SNOWED-IN STORY

MR. 'COON TELLS HOW HE CAME NEAR BEING A PART OF A MENAGERIE, AND HOW HE ONCE TOLD A STORY TO MR. DOG

"YOU can tell about Mr. 'Coon, now--the story you didn't tell last night, you know," and the Little Lady wriggles herself into a comfortable corner just below the Story Teller's smoke, and looks deep into a great cavern of glowing embers between the big old andirons, where, in her fancy, she can picture the Hollow Tree people and their friends.

"Why, yes, let me see--" says the Story Teller.

"Mr. Dog had just told about being at the menagerie, you know, and Mr. 'Coon was just going to tell how he came very near getting into a menagerie himself."

"Oh yes, of course--well, then, all the Hollow Tree people, the 'Coon and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow, and their friends who were visiting them--Mr. Dog and Mr. Robin and Jack Rabbit and Mr. Turtle and Mr. Squirrel--knocked the ashes out of their pipes and filled them up fresh--"

"No, they had just done that."

"That's so, I forgot. Well, anyway, as soon as they got to smoking and settled back around the fire again Mr. 'Coon told them his story, and I guess we'll call it

MR. 'COON'S EARLY ADVENTURE

Mr. 'Coon said he was quite young when it happened, and was taking a pleasant walk one evening, to think over things a little, and perhaps to pick out a handy tree where Mr. Man's chickens roosted, when all at once he heard a fierce bark close behind him, and he barely had time to get up a tree himself when a strange and very noisy Mr. Dog was leaping about at the foot of the tree, making a great fuss, and calling every moment for Mr. Man to hurry, for he had a young 'coon treed.

"Of course I laid pretty low when I heard that," Mr. 'Coon said, "for I knew that Mr. Man would most likely have a gun, so I got into a bunch of leaves and brush that must have been some kind of an old nest and scrooched down so that none of me would show.

"Then by-and-by I heard some big creature come running through the brush, and I peeked over a little, and there, sure enough, was Mr. Man with a long gun, and I noticed that he wore a thing on his head--a sort of hat, I suppose--made of what looked to be the skin of some relative of mine.

"Of course that made me mad. I hadn't cared so much until I saw that; but I said right then to myself that any one who would do such a thing as that never could be a friend of mine, no matter how much he tried. So I scrooched down and laid low in that old nest, and didn't move or let on in any way that I was there.

"Then I heard Mr. Man walking around the tree and talking to his dog and telling him that there wasn't anything up in that tree at all, and that Mr. Dog had just been fooling him. I could tell by his voice that he was getting mad at Mr. Dog, and I hoped that he'd get mad enough pretty soon to take a stick to him for chasing me up a tree like that, and then calling for Mr. Man to come and see me when there wasn't really anything to look at.

"But Mr. Dog kept galloping around the tree and barking out, over and over, that I was there; that he had seen me, and that he knew that I was hiding up there somewhere; and pretty soon I heard Mr. Man going away, and I peeked over again.

"Sure enough, he was going, but Mr. Dog was staying right there, sitting under the tree and looking up and making a good deal more noise than there was any need of to let me know he hadn't gone. I didn't see why he stayed there. I wished he'd go away and tend to his own business.

"Being quite young, I still lived with my folks over near the Wide Grass Lands, and I wanted to get home for supper. It was a good way to go, for the tree I had climbed was over close to the edge of the world where the sun and moon rise, and you all know that's a good way, even from here.

"Well, he didn't go, but just sat there, barking up that tree, and after a long time I heard somebody coming again, and I peeked over and there was Mr. Man, hurrying back, this time with an axe. I knew, right then, there was going to be trouble. I knew they were going to cut that tree down, and that I should most likely have quite a fuss with Mr. Dog, and perhaps go home with a black eye and a scratched nose, and then get whipped again for fighting, after I got there."

Mr. 'Coon stopped and knocked the ashes out of his pipe and filled it up fresh, and all the others knocked the ashes out of their pipes and filled them up fresh, too. Then Mr. 'Possum poked up the fire and told Mr. Turtle to bring a stick of wood from down-stairs, and when it was blazing up high and bright again they all stepped over to the window a minute, to see how hard it was snowing and banking up outside, then went back to their chairs around the fire, and stretched out their feet and leaned back and smoked, and listened to the rest of Mr. 'Coon's story.

Mr. 'Coon said he didn't like the sound of that axe when Mr. Man began to cut the tree down.

"Every time he struck the tree I could feel it all through me," he said, "and I knew if he kept that noise up long enough it would give me a nervous headache. I wished the tree would hurry up and drop, so we could have what muss we were going to, and get it over with. I'd have got out of that old nest and made a jump for another tree if there had been any near enough, but there wasn't, so I just laid low and gritted my teeth and let him chop.

"Well, by-and-by that tree began to go down. It seemed to teeter a little at first, this way and that; then it went very slow in one direction; then it went a little faster; then it went a good deal faster; then I suddenly felt like a shooting-star, I came down so fast, and there was a big crash, and I thought I had turned into a lot of stars, sure enough, and was shooting in every direction, and the next I knew I was tied to a tree, hand and foot and around the middle, and Mr. Man and Mr. Dog were sitting and looking at me, and grinning, and talking about what they were going to do.

"Mr. Man wasn't scolding Mr. Dog any more. He was telling him what a good thing it was they had caught me alive, for now they could sell me to a show and get a great deal more for me than they could for my skin. I didn't know what a show was, then, or that a show is a menagerie, but I know now, and I can see just what they meant.

"Pretty soon Mr. Man told Mr. Dog to stay there and watch me while he went home after a box to put me in. He said he didn't think it would be safe to carry me in his arms, and he was right about that.

"So then Mr. Man walked off, and left Mr. Dog guarding me, and saying unpleasant things to me now and then.

"At first I wouldn't answer him; but pretty soon I happened to think of something pleasant to say:

"'Mr. Dog,' I said, 'I know a good story, if you'd like me to tell it. Mr. Man may be a good while getting that box, and mebbe you'd like to hear something to pass the time.'

"Mr. Dog said he would. He said that Mr. Man would most likely have to make the box, and he didn't suppose he knew where the hammer and nails were, and it might be dark before Mr. Man got back.

"I felt a good deal better when I heard Mr. Dog say that, and I told him a story I knew about how Mr. Rabbit lost his tail, and Mr. Dog laughed and seemed to like it, and said, 'Tell me another.'"

Before Mr. 'Coon could go on with his story, Mr. Rabbit said that of course if that old tale had helped Mr. 'Coon out of trouble he was very glad, but that it wasn't at all true, and that some time _he_ would tell them himself the true story of how it happened.

Then they all said that they hoped he would, for they'd always wanted to hear that story told right, and then Mr. 'Coon went on with his adventure.

Mr. 'Coon said that when Mr. Dog said, "Tell me another," he knew he was in a good-humor, and that he felt better and better himself. "I thought if Mr. Man didn't come back too soon," he said, "I might get along pretty well with Mr. Dog.

"'I know another story, Mr. Dog,' I said--'the funniest story there is. It would make you laugh until you fell over the edge of the world, but I can't tell it here.'

"'Why,' he said--'why can't you tell it here as well as anywhere?'

"'Because it has to be acted,' I said, 'and my hands are tied.'

"'Will you tell it if I untie your hands?' said Mr. Dog.

"'Well,' I said, 'I'll begin it, and you can see how it goes.'

"So Mr. Dog came over and untied my hands, for he said he could tie them again before Mr. Man came back, because he knew Mr. Man hadn't found that hammer yet.

"'You can't get loose with just your hands untied, can you?' he said.

"'No, of course not, Mr. Dog,' I said, pleasant and polite as could be.

"'Let's see you try,' said Mr. Dog.

"So I twisted and pulled, and of course I couldn't get loose.

"'Now tell the story,' said Mr. Dog.

"So I said: 'Once there was a man who had a very bad pain in his chest, and he took all kinds of medicine, and it didn't do him any good. And one day the Old Wise Man of the Woods told him if he would rub his chest with one hand and pat his head with the other, it might draw the pain out the top and cure him. So the man with the pain in his chest tried it, and he did it this way.'

"Then I showed Mr. Dog just how he did it, and Mr. Dog thought that was funny, and laughed a good deal.

"'Go on and tell the rest of it,' he said. 'What happened after that?'

"But I let on as if I'd just remembered something, and I said, 'Oh, Mr. Dog, I'm _so_ sorry, but I can't tell the rest of that story here, and it's the funniest part, too. I know you'd laugh till you rolled over the edge of the world.'

"'Why can't you tell the rest of that story here as well as anywhere?' said Mr. Dog, looking anxious.

"'Because it has to be acted with the feet,' I said, 'and my feet are tied.'

"'Will you tell it if I untie your feet?' said Mr. Dog.

"'Well, I'll do the best I can,' I said.

"So Mr. Dog came over and untied my feet. He said he knew that Mr. Man hadn't found the nails or the pieces to make the box yet, and there would be plenty of time to tie me again before Mr. Man got back.

"'You can't get loose, anyway, with just your hands and feet untied, can you?' he said.

"'No, of course not, Mr. Dog,' I said, more pleasant and polite than ever.

"'Let's see you try,' said Mr. Dog.

"So I squirmed and twisted, but of course with a strong string around my waist and tied behind I couldn't do anything.

"'Now go on with the story,' said Mr. Dog.

"'Well,' I said, 'the pain left his chest, but it went into his back, and he had a most terrible time, until one day the Old Wise Man of the Woods came along and told him that he thought he ought to know enough by this time to rub his back where the pain was and pat his head at the same time to draw it out at the top. So then the man with the pain rubbed his back and patted his head this way,' and I showed Mr. Dog how he did it; and I rubbed a good while about where the knot was, and made a face to show how the man with the pain looked, and then I said the pain came back into his chest again instead of being drawn out at the top; and I changed about and rubbed there awhile, and then I went around to my back again, chasing that pain first one side and the other; and then I said that the Old Wise Man of the Woods came along one day and told him that he must kick with his feet too if he ever wanted to get rid of that pain, because, after all, it might have to be kicked out at the bottom; and when I began to kick and dance with both feet and to rub with my hands at the same time, Mr. Dog gave a great big laugh--the biggest laugh I ever heard anybody give--and fell right down and rolled over and over, and did roll off the edge of the world, sure enough.

"I heard him go clattering into a lot of brush and blackberry bushes that are down there, and just then I got that back knot untied, and I stepped over and looked down at Mr. Dog, who had lodged in a brier patch on a shelf about ten feet below the edge, where Mr. Man would have to get him up with a ladder or a rope.

"'Do you want to hear the rest of the story, Mr. Dog?' I said.

"'I'll story _you_,' he said, 'when I catch you!'

"'I told you you'd laugh till you fell off the edge of the world,' I said.

"'I'll make _you_ laugh,' he said, 'when I catch you!'

"Then I saw he was cross about something, and I set out for home without waiting to say good-bye to Mr. Man, for I didn't want to waste any more time, though I missed my supper and got a scolding besides.

"But I was glad I didn't bring home a black eye and scratched nose, and I'm more glad than ever now that Mr. Man didn't get back in time with that box, or I might be in a menagerie this minute instead of sitting here smoking and telling stories and having a good time on Christmas Day."

The Story Teller looks down at the Little Lady.

"I'm glad Mr. 'Coon didn't get into the menagerie, aren't you?" she says.

"Very glad," says the Story Teller.

"He went lickety-split home, didn't he?"

"He did that!"

"I like them to go lickety-split better than lickety-cut, don't you?" says the Little Lady. "They seem to go so much faster."

"Ever so much faster," says the Story Teller.

THE WIDOW CROW'S BOARDING-HOUSE

EARLY DOINGS OF THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE AND HOW THEY FOUND A HOME

ANYBODY can tell by her face that the Little Lady has some plan of her own when the Story Teller is ready next evening to "sit by the fire and spin."

"I want you to tell me," she says, climbing up into her place, "how the 'Coon and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow ever got to living together in the Hollow Tree."

That frightens the Story Teller. He is all ready with something different.

"Good gracious!" he says, "that is an old story that all the Deep Woods People have known ever so long."

"But I don't know it," says the Little Lady, "and I'd like to know that before you tell anything else. Rock, and tell it."

So the Story Teller rocks slowly, and smokes, and almost forgets the Little Lady in remembering that far-away time, and presently he begins.

Well, it was all so long ago that perhaps I can't remember it very well. Mr. 'Possum was a young man in those days--a nice spry young fellow; and he used to think it was a good deal of fun to let Mr. Dog--who wasn't friendly then, of course--try to catch him; and when Mr. Dog would get pretty close and come panting up behind him, Mr. 'Possum would scramble up a tree, and run out on to the longest limb and swing from it, head down, and laugh, and say:

"Come right up, Mr. Dog! Always at home to you, Mr. Dog! Don't stop to knock!"

And then Mr. Dog would race around under the tree and make a great to do, and sometimes Mr. 'Possum would swing back and forth, and pretty soon give a great big swing and let go, and Mr. Dog would think surely he had him then, and bark and run to the place where he thought he was going to drop. Only Mr. 'Possum didn't drop--not far; for he had his limb all picked out, and he would catch it with his tail as he went by, and it would bend and sway with him, and he would laugh, and call again:

"Don't go, Mr. Dog! Mr. Man can get up the cows alone to-night!"

And then Mr. Dog would remember that he was a good ways from home, and that if he wasn't there in time to help Mr. Man get up the cows there might be trouble; and he would set out lickety-split for home, with Mr. 'Possum calling to him as he ran.

But one time Mr. 'Possum made a mistake. He didn't know it, but he was getting older and a good deal fatter than he had been at first, and when he swung out for another limb that way, and let go, he missed the limb and came clattering down right in front of Mr. Dog. He wasn't hurt much, for the ground was soft, and there was a nice thick bed of leaves; but I tell you he was scared, and when Mr. Dog jumped right on top of him, and grabbed him, he gave himself up for lost, sure enough.

But Mr. 'Possum is smart in some ways, and he knows how to play "dead" better than any other animal there is. He knew that Mr. Dog would want to show him to Mr. Man, and that he was too heavy for Mr. Dog to carry. He had thought about all that, and decided what to do just in that little second between the limb and the ground, for Mr. 'Possum can think quick enough when anything like that happens.

So when he struck the ground he just gave one little kick with his hind foot and a kind of a sigh, as if he was drawing his last breath, and laid there: and even when Mr. Dog grabbed him and shook him he never let on, but acted almost deader than if he had been really dead and no mistake.

Then Mr. Dog stood with his paws out and his nose down close, listening, and barking once in a while, and thinking maybe he would come to pretty soon, but Mr. 'Possum still never let on, or breathed the least little bit, and directly Mr. Dog started to drag him toward Mr. Man's house.

That was a hard job, and every little way Mr. Dog would stop and shake Mr. 'Possum and bark and listen to see if he was really dead, and after a while he decided that he was, and started to get Mr. Man to come and fetch Mr. 'Possum home. But he only went a few steps, the first time, and just as Mr. 'Possum was about to jump up and run he came hurrying back, and stood over him and barked and barked as loud as ever he could for Mr. Man to come and see what he had for him. But Mr. Man was too far away, and even if he heard Mr. Dog he didn't think it worth while to come.

So then Mr. Dog tried to get Mr. 'Possum on his shoulder, to carry him that way; but Mr. 'Possum made himself so limp and loose and heavy that every time Mr. Dog would get him nearly up he would slide off again and fall all in a heap on the leaves; and Mr. Dog couldn't help believing that he was dead, to see him lying there all doubled up, just as he happened to drop.

So, then, by-and-by Mr. Dog really did start for Mr. Man's, and Mr. 'Possum lay still, and just opened one eye the least bit to see how far Mr. Dog had gone, and when he had gone far enough Mr. 'Possum jumped up quick as a wink and scampered up a tree, and ran out on a limb and swung with his head down, and called out:

"Don't go away, Mr. Dog! We've had such a nice visit together! Don't go off mad, Mr. Dog! Come back and stay till the cows come home!"

Then Mr. Dog was mad, I _tell_ you, and told him what he'd do next time; and he set out for home fast as he could travel, and went in the back way and hid, for Mr. Man was already getting up the cows when he got there.