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"So when we got our senses back we picked up all our things that we could find, and moved into the new place, and Aunt Melissy looked at the clock, which was still running, and it was just a little over two hours since we started.
"Then pretty soon we heard Mr. Man and his friends who had been up in the balloon coming, and we stayed close inside till they had taken the anchor and everything away, and after that, when it was getting dark, Uncle Silas and the hired man went out and found, not very far off, where there were some nice chickens that roosted in handy places, and brought home two or three, and Aunt Melissy set up the stove and cooked up a good supper, and we all sat around the kitchen fire, and the storm that the east wind had been blowing up came along sure enough and it rained all night, but we were snug and dry, and went to sleep mostly in beds made down on the floor, and lay there listening to the rain and thinking what a nice journey we'd had and what a good new home we'd found.
"And it _was_ a good place, for I lived there till I grew up, and if I'm not mistaken some of Uncle Silas's and Aunt Melissy's children live there still. I haven't heard from any of them for a long time, but I am thinking of going on a visit over that way in the spring, and if that balloon is still running I'm going to travel with it.
"And that," said Mr. 'Possum, "is a true story--all true, every word, for I was there."
n.o.body said anything for a minute or two after Mr. 'Possum had finished his story--n.o.body _could_ say anything.
Then Mr. Rabbit coughed a little and remarked that he was glad that Mr.
'Possum said that the story was true, for no one would ever have suspected it. He said if Mr. 'Possum hadn't said it was true he would have thought it was one of those pleasant dreams that Mr. 'Possum had when he slept hanging to a peg head down.
But Mr. Turtle, who had been sitting with his eyes shut and looking as if he were asleep, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and said that what Mr. 'Possum had told them was true--at least, _some_ of it was true; for he himself had been sitting in the door of his house on the sh.o.r.e of the Wide Blue Water when the balloon pa.s.sed over, and he had seen Uncle Silas Lovejoy's family sitting up there anch.o.r.ed and comfortable; and he had picked up a chair that Uncle Silas had dropped, and he had it in his house to this day, it being a good strong chair and better than any that was made nowadays.
Well, of course after that n.o.body said anything about Mr. 'Possum's story not being true, for they remembered how old and wise Mr. Turtle was and could always prove things, and they all talked about it a great deal, and asked Mr. 'Possum a good many questions.
They said how nice it was to know somebody who had had an adventure like that, and Mr. Rabbit changed his seat so he could be next to Mr.
'Possum, because he said he wanted to write it all down to keep.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MR. TURTLE SAID THAT WHAT MR. 'POSSUM HAD TOLD THEM WAS TRUE]
And Mr. 'Possum said he never would forget how good those chickens tasted that first night in the new home, and that Mr. Rabbit mustn't forget to put them in.
Then they all remembered that they were hungry now, and Mr. Crow and Mr.
Squirrel and Mr. Robin hustled around to get a bite to eat before bedtime, and Mr. 'Possum hurried down to bring up the stove-wood, and was gone quite awhile, though n.o.body spoke of it--not then--even if they did wonder about it a little--and after supper they all sat around the fire again and smoked and dropped off to sleep while the clock ticked and the blaze flickered about and made queer shadows on the wall of the Hollow Tree.
FOOTNOTE:
[B] _Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book._
THE BARK OF OLD HUNGRY-WOLF
HOW THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE HAVE A MOST UNWELCOME VISITOR, AND WHAT BECOMES OF HIM
"WHAT made Mr. 'Possum so anxious to get the wood, and what made him stay down-stairs so long when he went after it?" asks the Little Lady next evening, when the Story Teller is lighting his pipe and getting ready to remember the history of the Hollow Tree.
"We're coming to that. You may be sure there was some reason for it, for Mr. 'Possum doesn't hurry after wood or stay long in a cold place if he can help it, unless he has something on his mind. Perhaps some of the Deep Woods People thought of that too, but if they did they didn't say anything--not at the time. I suppose they thought it didn't matter much, anyhow, if they got the wood."
So they went right on having a good time, keeping up a nice fire, and eating up whatever they had; for they thought the big snow couldn't last as long as their wood and their things to eat, and every day they went up to look out of the up-stairs windows to see how much had melted, and every day they found it just about the same, only maybe a little crustier on top, and the weather stayed _very cold_.
But they didn't mind it so long as they were warm and not hungry, and they played games, and recited their pieces, and sang, and danced, and said they had never had such a good time in all their lives.
But one day when Mr. Crow went down into the store-room for supplies he found that he was at the bottom of the barrel of everything they had, and he came up looking pretty sober, though he didn't say anything about it--not then, for he knew there were plenty of bones and odds and ends he could sc.r.a.pe up, and he had a little flour and some meal in his pantry; so he could make soup and gravy and johnny-cake and hash, which he did right away, and they all said how fine such things were for a change, and told Mr. Crow to go right on making them as long as he wanted to, even if the snow stayed on till spring. And Mr. 'Possum and Mr. 'c.o.o.n said it was like old times, and that Mr. Crow was probably the very best provider in the Big Deep Woods.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ONE DAY MR. CROW FOUND HE WAS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE BARREL OF EVERYTHING]
Mr. Crow smiled, too, but he didn't feel like it much, for he knew that even johnny-cake and gravy wouldn't last forever, and that unless the snow went away pretty soon they would all be hungry and cold, for the wood was getting low, too.
And one morning, when Mr. Crow went to his meal-sack and his flour-bag and his pile of odds and ends there was just barely enough for breakfast, and hardly that. And Mr. Crow didn't like to tell them about it, for he knew they all thought he could keep right on making johnny-cake and gravy forever, because they didn't have to stop to think where things came from, as he did, and he was afraid they would blame him when there was nothing more left.
So the Old Black Crow tried to step around lively and look pleasant, to keep anybody from noticing, because he thought it might turn warm that day and melt the snow; and when breakfast was ready he put on what there was and said he hadn't cooked very much because he had heard that light breakfasts were better for people who stayed in the house a good deal, and as for himself, he said he guessed he wouldn't eat any breakfast that morning at all.
Then while the others were eating he crept down-stairs and looked at the empty boxes and barrels and the few sticks of wood that were left, and he knew that if that snow didn't melt off right away they were going to have a _very hard time_. Then he came back up in the big living-room and went on up-stairs to his own room, to look out the window to see if it wasn't going to be a warm, melting day. But Mr. Crow came back pretty soon. He came back in a hurry, too, and he slammed his door and locked it, and then let go of everything and just slid down-stairs. Then the Deep Woods People jumped up quick from the table and ran to him, for they thought he was having a fit of some kind, and they still thought so when they looked into his face: for Mr. Crow's eyes were rolled up and his bill was pale, and when he tried to speak he couldn't. And Mr.
Rabbit said it was because Mr. Crow had done without his breakfast, and he ran to get something from the table; but Mr. Crow couldn't eat, and then they saw that some of the feathers on top of his head were turning gray, and they knew he had seen some awful thing just that little moment he was in his room.
So then they all looked at one another and wondered what it was, and they were glad Mr. Crow had locked the door. Then they carried him over to the fire, and pretty soon he got so he could whisper a little, and when they knew what he was saying they understood why he was so scared and why he had locked the door; for the words that Mr. Crow kept whispering over and over were: "Old Hungry-Wolf! Old Hungry-Wolf! Old Hungry-Wolf!"
All the Deep Woods People know what that means. They know that when Old Hungry-Wolf comes, or even when you hear him bark, it means that there is no food left in the Big Deep Woods for anybody, and that n.o.body can tell how long it will be before there _will_ be food again. And all the Deep Woods People stood still and held their breath and listened for the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf, because they knew Mr. Crow had seen his face looking in the window. And they all thought they heard it, except Mr.
'Possum, who said he didn't believe it was Old Hungry-Wolf at all that Mr. Crow had seen, but only Mr. Gray Wolf himself, who had perhaps slipped out and travelled over the snow to see if they were all at home and comfortable.
But Mr. Crow said:
"No, no; it was Old Hungry-Wolf! He was big and black, and I saw his great fiery eyes!"
Then Mr. 'Possum looked very brave, and said he would see if Old Hungry-Wolf was looking into his window too, and he went right up, and soon came back and said there wasn't any big black face at his window, and he thought that Mr. Crow's empty stomach had made him imagine things.
So then Mr. 'c.o.o.n said that he would go up to _his_ room if the others would like to come along, and they could see for themselves whether Old Hungry-Wolf was trying to get in or not.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THEN MR. 'c.o.o.n SLAMMED HIS DOOR]
Then they all went very quietly up Mr. 'c.o.o.n's stair (all except Mr.
'Possum, who stayed with Mr. Crow), and they opened Mr. 'c.o.o.n's door and took one look inside, and then Mr. 'c.o.o.n he slammed _his_ door shut, and locked it, and they all let go of everything and came sliding down in a heap, for they had seen the great fiery eyes and black face of Old Hungry-Wolf glaring in at Mr. 'c.o.o.n's window.
So they all huddled around the fire and lit their pipes--for they still had some tobacco--and smoked, but didn't say anything, until by-and-by Mr. Crow told them that there wasn't another bite to eat in the house and very little wood, and that that was the reason why Old Hungry-Wolf had come. And they talked about it in whispers--whether they ought to exercise any more, because though exercise would help them to keep warm and save wood, it would make them hungrier. And some of them said they thought they would try to go to sleep like Mr. Bear, who slept all winter and never knew that he was hungry until spring. So they kept talking, and now and then they would stop and listen, and they all said they could hear the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf--all except Mr. 'Possum, which was strange, because Mr. 'Possum is fond of good things and would be apt to be the very first to hear Old Hungry's bark.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MR. 'POSSUM SAID NOT TO MOVE, THAT HE WOULD GO AFTER A PIECE OF WOOD]
And when the fire got very low and it was getting cold, Mr. 'Possum said for them not to move; that he would go down after a piece of wood, and he would attend to the fire as long as the wood lasted, and try to make it last as long as possible. And every time the fire got very low Mr. 'Possum would bring a piece of wood, and sometimes he stayed a good while (just for one piece of wood), but they still didn't think much about it--not then. What they did think about was how hungry they were, and Mr. 'Crow said he knew he could eat as much as the old ancestor of his that was told about in a book which he had once borrowed from Mr.
Man's little boy who had left it out in the yard at dinner-time.
Then they all begged Mr. Crow to get the book and read it to them, and perhaps they could imagine they were not so hungry. So Mr. Crow brought the book and read them the poem about
THE RAVENOUS RAVEN
Oh, there was an old raven as black as could be, And a wonderful sort of a raven was he; For his house he kept tidy, his yard he kept neat, And he cooked the most marvellous dainties to eat.
He could roast, he could toast, he could bake, he could fry, He could stir up a cake in the wink of an eye, He could boil, he could broil, he could grill, he could stew-- Oh, there wasn't a thing that this bird couldn't do.
He would smoke in the sun when the mornings were fair, And his plans for new puddings and pies would prepare; But, alas! like the famous Jim Crow with his shelf, He was greedy, and ate all his dainties himself.
[Ill.u.s.tration: HE WOULD SMOKE IN THE SUN WHEN THE MORNINGS WERE FAIR]
It was true he was proud of the things he could cook, And would call in his neighbors sometimes for a look, Or a taste, it may be, when his pastry was fine; But he'd never been known to invite them to dine.
With a look and a sigh they could stand and behold All the puddings so brown and the sauces of gold; With a taste and a growl they'd reluctantly go Praying vengeance to fall on that greedy old crow.
[Ill.u.s.tration: WITH A LOOK AND A SIGH THEY WOULD STAND AND BEHOLD]