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"I certainly do!" Mr. Crow cried indignantly.
"Very well!" Brownie said. "I see I'll have to take some other newspaper, though I must say I hate to change--after taking this one so long."
"I hope you'll find one to suit you," Mr. Crow said in a cross voice.
And he flew away without another word. He was terribly upset. You see, he had enjoyed being a newspaper, because it gave him an excuse for asking people the most inquisitive questions. He had intended all that week to ask Aunt Polly Woodchuck whether she wore a wig. But he hadn't been able to find her at home. And now it was too late--for Mr. Crow was a newspaper no longer.
As for Brownie Beaver, he succeeded in getting Jasper Jay to be his newspaper. Though Jasper told him many jokes, Brownie found that he could not depend upon Jasper's news. And as a matter of fact, Jasper made up most of it himself. He claimed that the _newest news_ was the best.
"That's why I invent it myself, right on the spot," he explained.
IX
THE SIGN ON THE TREE
On one of Brownie Beaver's long excursions down the stream he came upon a tree to which a sign was nailed. Now, Brownie had never learned to read. But he had heard that Uncle Jerry Chuck could tell what a sign said. So Brownie asked a pleasant young fellow named Frisky Squirrel if he would mind asking Uncle Jerry to come over to Swift River on a matter of important business.
When Uncle Jerry Chuck appeared, Brownie Beaver said he was glad to see him and that Uncle Jerry was looking very well.
"I've sent for you," said Brownie, "because I wanted you to see this sign. I can tell by the tracks under the tree that the sign was put up only to-day. And I thought you ought to know about it at once, Uncle Jerry."
As soon as he heard that, Uncle Jerry Chuck stepped close to the tree and began to read the sign.
Now, there was something about Uncle Jerry's reading that Brownie Beaver had heard. People had told him that Uncle Jerry Chuck couldn't tell what a sign said unless he read it _aloud_. That was why Brownie Beaver had sent for him, for Brownie knew Uncle Jerry well enough to guess that if anybody _asked_ Uncle Jerry to read the sign, Uncle Jerry would insist on being paid for his trouble.
But now Uncle Jerry was going to read the sign for himself. And Brownie Beaver moved up beside him, to hear what he said.
The sign looked like this:
NO HUNTING
OR FISHING
ALOUD
Uncle Jerry repeated the words in a sing-song tone.
"I don't think much of that," he said. "It's bad enough to be hunted by people who make a noise, though you have _some_ chance of getting away then. But if they can't make a noise it will be much more dangerous for all of us forest-people."
If Tommy Fox hadn't happened to come along just then Uncle Jerry wouldn't have found out his mistake. But Tommy Fox soon set him right.
As soon as he had talked a bit with Uncle Jerry he said:
"What the sign really means is that no hunting or fishing will be permitted. That last word should be 'allowed,' instead of 'aloud.'
It's spelled wrong," he explained.
"That's better!" Uncle Jerry cried. "Now there'll be no more hunting in the neighborhood and we'll all be quite safe.... Farmer Green is kinder than I supposed."
When Brownie Beaver heard that, he said good-by and started home at once to tell the good news to all his friends. He had leaped into the river and was swimming up-stream rapidly when Uncle Jerry called to him to stop.
"There's something I want to say," Uncle Jerry shouted. "I think you ought to pay me for reading the sign."
But Brownie Beaver shook his head.
"I didn't ask you to read the sign for me," he declared. "You read it for _yourself_, Uncle Jerry. And besides, you didn't know what it meant until Tommy Fox came along and told you.... If you want to know what I think, I'll tell you. I think you ought to pay Tommy Fox something."
Uncle Jerry at once began to look worried. He said nothing more, but plunged out of sight into some bushes, as if he were afraid Tommy Fox might come back and find him.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Brownie Beaver Returned to His Wood-cutting]
X
A HOLIDAY
There was great rejoicing in the little village in the pond when Brownie Beaver returned with the good news that there would be no more hunting and fishing. And when old Grandaddy Beaver said that everybody ought to take a holiday to celebrate the occasion, all the villagers said it was a fine idea.
So they stopped working, for once, and began to plan the celebration.
They thought that there ought to be swimming races and tree-felling contests. And Brownie Beaver said that after the holiday was over he would suggest that someone be chosen to go down and thank Farmer Green for putting the notice on the tree.
The whole village agreed to Brownie's proposal and they voted to see who should be sent. Brownie Beaver himself pa.s.sed his hat around to take up the votes. And it was quickly found that every vote was for Brownie Beaver. He had even voted for himself. But no one seemed to care about that.
Then the swimming races began. There was a race under water, a race with heads out of water--and another in which each person who took part had to stay beneath the surface as long as he could.
That last race caused some trouble. A young scamp called Slippery Sam won it. And many people thought that he had swum up inside his house, where he could get air, without being seen. But no one could prove it; so he won the race, just the same.
Next came the tree-felling contest. There were six, including Brownie Beaver, that took part in it. Grandaddy Beaver had picked out six trees of exactly the same size. Each person in the contest had to try to bring his tree to the ground first. And that caused some trouble, too, because some claimed that their trees were of harder wood than others--and more difficult to gnaw--while others complained that the bark of their trees tasted very bitter, and of course that made their task unpleasant.
Those six trees, falling one after another, made such a racket that old Mr. Crow heard the noise miles away and flew over to see what was happening.
After everybody crept out of his hiding-place some time afterward (everyone had to hide for a while, you know), there was Mr. Crow sitting upon one of the fallen trees.
"What's going on?" he inquired. "You're not going to cut down the whole forest, I hope."
Then they told him about the celebration. And Mr. Crow began to laugh.
"What are you going to do next?" he asked.
"We're a-going to send Brownie Beaver over to Pleasant Valley to thank Farmer Green for his kindness in putting an end to hunting and fishing," said old Grandaddy Beaver. "And he's a-going to start right away."
Mr. Crow looked around. And there was Brownie Beaver, with a lunch-basket in his hand, all ready to begin his long journey.
"Say good-by to him then," said Mr. Crow, "for you'll never see him again."