THE "SNOWED-IN" LITERARY CLUB
MR. RABBIT PROPOSES SOMETHING TO PASS THE TIME
"DID the Hollow Tree People and their company sleep in their chairs allnight?" asks the Little Lady, as soon as she has finished her supper."And were they snowed in when they woke up next morning?"
The Story Teller is not quite ready to answer. He has to fill his pipefirst, and puff a little and look into the fire before he sits down, andthe Little Lady climbs into her place. The Little Lady knows the StoryTeller, and waits. When he begins to rock a little she knows he hasremembered, and then pretty soon he tells her about the "Snowed-In"Literary Club.
Well, the Hollow Tree People went to sleep there by the fire and theystayed asleep a long while, for they were tired with all the good timesand all the good things to eat they had been having. And when they wokeup once, they thought it was still night, for it was dark, though theythought it must be about morning, because the fire was nearly out, andMr. 'Possum said if there was anybody who wasn't too stiff he wishedthey'd put on a stick of wood, as he was frozen so hard that he knew ifhe tried to move he'd break.
So Mr. Turtle, who had been drawn up mostly into his shell, and Mr. Dog,who was used to getting up at all hours of the night, stretched andyawned and crept down after some sticks and dry pieces and built up agood fire, and pretty soon they were all asleep again, as sound as ever.
And when they woke up next time it was still just as dark, and the firehad gone almost out again, and Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Crow, too, said theydidn't understand it, at all, for a fire like that would generally keepall night and all day too, and here two fires had burned out and it wasstill as dark as ever. Then Mr. Crow lit a splinter and looked at theclock, and said he must have forgotten to wind it, or maybe it wasbecause it was so cold, as it had stopped a little after twelve, and Mr.'Possum said that from the way he felt it was no wonder the clock hadstopped, for if he could tell anything by his feelings it must be atleast day after to-morrow. He said he felt so empty that every time hebreathed he could hear the wind whistle through his ribs.
That made Mr. Rabbit think of something, and he stepped over to thewindow. Then he pushed it up a little, and put out his hand. But hedidn't put it out far, for it went right into something soft and cold.Mr. Rabbit came over to where Mr. Crow was poking up the fire, bringingsome of the stuff with him.
"Now," he said, "you can all see what's the matter. We're snowed in. Thesnow is up over the window, and that's why it's so dark. It may be upover the top of the tree, and we may have been asleep here for a week,for all we know."
Then they all gathered around to look at the snow, and went to thewindow and got some more, and tried to tell whether it was day or night,and Mr. Crow and Mr. 'Coon and Mr. 'Possum ran up-stairs to their rooms,and called back that it was day, for the snow hadn't come quite up tothe tops of their windows.
And it was day, sure enough, and quite late in the afternoon at that,but they couldn't tell just what day it was, or whether they had sleptone night, or two nights, or even longer.
Well, of course the first thing was to get something to eat and a bigfire going, and even Mr. 'Possum scrambled around and helped carrywood, so he could get warm quicker. They still had a good deal to eat inthe Hollow Tree, and they were not much worried. Mr. 'Possum and Mr.'Coon remembered another time they were snowed in, when Mr. Crow had fedthem on Johnnie cake and gravy, and they thought that if everything elsegave out it would be great fun to live like that again.
When they had finished eating breakfast, or dinner, or whatever it was,for it was nearer supper-time than anything else, they began to think ofthings to do to amuse themselves, and they first thought they'd havesome more stories, like Mr. Rabbit's.
But Mr. Rabbit, who is quite literary, and a good poet, said it would bebetter to make it a kind of a club, and each have a poem, or a story, ora song; or if anybody couldn't do any of those he must dance a jig.
Then they all remembered a poetry club that Mr. Rabbit had got up onceand how nice it was, and they all said that was just the thing, and theygot around the table and began to work away at whatever they were goingto do for the "Snowed-In" Literary Club.
GOT AROUND THE TABLE AND BEGAN TO WORK]
Mr. Rabbit wasn't very long at his piece, and pretty soon he jumped upand said he was through, and Mr. 'Possum said that if that was so, hemight go down and bring up some wood and warm up the brains of the restof them. So Mr. Rabbit stirred up the fire, and sat down and lookedinto it, and read over his poem to himself and changed a word here andthere, and thought how nice it was; and by-and-by Mr. Dog said he wasthrough, and Mr. Robin said he was through, too.
Then Mr. Rabbit said he thought that would be more than enough for oneevening anyway, and that the others might finish their pieces to-morrowand have them ready for the next evening.
So then they all gathered around the fire again, and everybody said thatas Mr. Rabbit had thought of the club first, he must be the first toread his piece.
Mr. Rabbit said he was sure it would be more modest for some one else toread first, but that he was willing to start things going if they wantedhim to. Then he stood up, and turned a little to the light, and took anice position, and read his poem, which was called
SNOWED IN
_By J. Rabbit_
Oh, the snow lies white in the woods to-night-- The snow lies soft and deep; And under the snow, I know, oh, ho! The flowers of the summer sleep. The flowers of the summer sleep, I know, Snowed in like you and me-- Under the sheltering leaves, oh, ho, As snug and as warm as we-- As snug and as warm from the winter storm As we of the Hollow Tree. Snowed in are we in the Hollow Tree, And as snug and as warm as they we be-- Snowed in, snowed in, Are we, are we, And as snug as can be in the Hollow Tree, The wonderful Hollow Tree.
Oh, the snow lies cold on wood and wold, But never a bit comes in, As we smoke and eat, and warm our feet, And sit by the fire and spin: And what care we for the winter gales, And what care we for the snow-- As we sit by the fire and spin our tales And think of the things we know? As we spin our tales in the winter gales And wait for the snow to go? Oh, the winds blow high and the winds blow low, But what care we for the wind and snow, Spinning our tales of the long ago As snug as snug can be? For never a bit comes in, comes in, As we sit by the fire and spin, and spin The tales we know, of the long ago, In the wonderful Hollow Tree.
Mr. Rabbit sat down then, and of course everybody spoke up as soon asthey could get their breath and said how nice it was, and how Mr. Rabbitalways expressed himself better in poetry than anybody else could inprose, and how the words and rhymes just seemed to flow along as if hewere reeling it off of a spinning-wheel and could keep it up all day.
And Mr. Rabbit smiled and said he supposed it came natural, and thatsometimes it was harder to stop than it was to start, and that he_could_ keep it up all day as easy as not.
Then Mr. 'Possum said he'd been afraid that was what _would_ happen, andthat if Mr. Rabbit hadn't stopped pretty soon that he--Mr. 'Possum, ofcourse--would have been so tangled up in his mind that somebody wouldhave had to come and undo the knot.
Then he said he wanted to ask some questions. He said he wanted to knowwhat "wold" meant, and also what Mr. Rabbit meant by spinning theirtails. He said he hadn't noticed that any of them were spinning theirtails, and that he couldn't do it if he tried. He said that he couldcurl his tail and hang from a limb or a peg by it, and he had found it agood way to go to sleep when things were on his mind, and that hegenerally had better dreams when he slept that way.
MR. 'POSSUM WANTED TO KNOW WHAT MR. RABBIT MEANT BYSPINNING THEIR TAILS]
He said that of course Mr. Rabbit's poem had been about tails of thelong ago, and he supposed that he meant the ones which his family hadlost about three hundred years ago, according to Mr. Turtle, but that hedidn't believe they ever could spin them much, or that Mr. Rabbit coul
dspin what he had left.
Mr. 'Possum was going on to say a good deal more on the subject, but Mr.Rabbit interrupted him.
He said he didn't suppose there was anybody else in the world whose foodseemed to do him so little good as Mr. 'Possum's, and that very likelyit was owing to the habit he had of sleeping with his head hanging downin that foolish way. He said he had never heard of anybody who ate somuch and knew so little.
Of course, he said, everybody might not know what "wold" meant, as itwasn't used much except by poets who used the best words, but that itmeant some kind of a field, and it was better for winter use, as itrhymed with "cold" and was nearly always used that way. As for Mr.'Possum's other remark, he said he couldn't imagine how anybody wouldsuppose that the tales he meant were those other tails which were madeto wave or wag or flirt or hang from limbs by, instead of being storiesto be told or written, just as the Deep Woods People were telling andwriting them now. He said there was an old expression about having apeg to hang a tale on, and that it was most likely gotten up by one ofMr. 'Possum's ancestors or somebody who knew as little about such thingsas Mr. 'Possum, and that another old expression which said "Therebyhangs a tale" was just like it, because the kind of tales he meantdidn't hang, but were always told or written, while the other kindalways did hang, and were never told or written, but were only sometimestold or written about, and it made him feel sad, he said, to have toexplain his poem in that simple way.
Then Mr. 'Possum said that he was sorry Mr. Rabbit felt that way,because he didn't feel at all that way himself, and had only been tryingto discuss Mr. Rabbit's nice poem. He said that of course Mr. Rabbitcouldn't be expected to know much about tails, never having had a realone himself, and would be likely to get mixed up when he tried to writeon the subject. He said he wouldn't mention such things again, and thathe was sorry and hoped that Mr. Rabbit would forgive him.
And Mr. Rabbit said that he was sorry, too--sorry for Mr. 'Possum--andthat he thought whoever was ready had better read the next piece.
Then Mr. Dog said that he supposed that he was as ready as he'd ever be,and that he'd like to read his and get it off his mind, so he wouldn'tbe so nervous and could enjoy listening to the others. He wasn't used tosuch things, he said, and couldn't be original like Mr. Rabbit, but heknew a story that was told among the fowls in Mr. Man's barn-yard, andthat he had tried to write it in a simple way that even Mr. 'Possumwould understand. His story was about a duck--a young and foolishduck--who got into trouble, and Mr. Dog said he had made a few sketchesto go with it, and that they could be handed around while he wasreading. Now he would begin, he said, and the name of his story was
ERASTUS, THE ROBBER DUCK
_By Mr. Dog, with Sketches_
Once upon a time there was a foolish young duck named Erastus (called'Rastus, for short). He was an only child, and lived with his mother ina small house on the bank of a pond at the foot of the farm-yard.
Erastus thought himself a brave duck; he would chase his shadow, and wasnot afraid of quite a large worm.
As he grew older he did not tell his mother everything. Once he slippedaway, and went swimming alone. Then a worm larger than any he had everseen came up out of the water, and would have swallowed Erastus if hehad not reached the shore just in time, and gone screaming to hismother.
His mother said the great worm was a water-snake, and she told Erastussnake-stories which gave him bad dreams.
MR. DOG SAID HE HAD MADE A FEW SKETCHES]
Erastus grew quite fast, and soon thought he was nearly grown up. Oncehe tried to smoke with some other young ducks behind the barn. It madeErastus sick, and his mother found it out. She gave Erastus someunpleasant medicine, and made him stay in bed a week.
Erastus decided that he would run away. While his mother was taking hermorning bath he packed his things in a little valise she had given himfor Christmas. Then he slipped out the back door and made for the woodsas fast as he could go. He had made up his mind to be a robber, and makea great deal of money by taking it away from other people.
He had begun by taking a small toy pistol which belonged to Mr. Man'slittle boy. He wore it at his side. His mother had read to him aboutrobbers. Erastus also had on his nice new coat and pretty vest.
He did not rob anybody that day. There was nothing in the woods buttrees and vines. Erastus tripped over the vines and hurt himself, andlost the toy pistol.
Then it came night, and he was very lonesome. For the first time in hislife Erastus missed his mother. There was a nice full moon, but Erastusdid not care for it. Some of the black shadows about him looked as ifthey might be live things. By-and-by he heard a noise near him.
Erastus the Robber Duck started to run; but he was lost, and did notknow which way to go. All at once he was face to face with some largeanimal. It wore a long cape and a mask. It also carried a real pistolwhich it pointed at Erastus and told him to hold up his wings. Erastusthe Robber Duck held up his wings as high as possible, and tried to getthem higher. It did not seem to Erastus that he could hold them up highenough. His mother had read to him about robbers.
Then the robber took all the things that Erastus had in his pockets. Hetook his new knife and his little watch; also the nice bag which hismother had given him for Christmas.
Erastus kept his wings up a good while after the robber had gone. He wasafraid the robber had not gone far enough. When he put them down theywere cramped and sore. Then he heard something again, and thought it wasthe robber coming back after his clothes.
Erastus fled with great speed, taking off his garments as he ran. Atlast he reached the edge of the wood, not far from where he lived. Itwas just morning, and his mother saw him coming. She looked sad, andembraced him.
It was the first time Erastus had been out all night.
Erastus was not allowed to go swimming or even to leave the yard for along time. Whenever he remembered that night in the woods he shivered,and his mother thought he had a chill. Then she would put him to bedand give him some of the unpleasant medicine.
Erastus did not tell his mother _all_ that had happened that night for agood while. He was ashamed to do so. But one day when he seemed quitesick and his mother was frightened, he broke down and told her all aboutit. Then his mother forgave him, and he got well right away.
After that Erastus behaved, and grew to be the best and largest duck inMr. Man's farm-yard.
* * * * *
While Mr. Dog had been reading his story the Hollow Tree People--the'Coon and the 'Possum and the Old Black Crow--had been leaning forwardand almost holding their breath, and Mr. Dog felt a good deal flatteredwhen he noticed how interested they were. When he sat down he saw thatMr. 'Possum's mouth was open and his tongue fairly hanging out withbeing so excited.
MR. 'POSSUM SAID IT MIGHT BE A GOOD ENOUGH STORY, BUT ITCOULDN'T BE TRUE]
Then before any of the others could say a word, Mr. 'Possum said that itmight be a good enough story, but that it couldn't be true. He said thathe wasn't a judge of stories, but that he was a judge of ducks--youngducks, or old either--and that no young duck could pass the night in theBig Deep Woods and get home at sunrise or any other time, unless all theother animals were snowed in or locked up in a menagerie, and that theanimal that had met Erastus might have robbed him, of course, but hewould have eaten him first, and then carried off what was left, unless,of course, that robber was a rabbit, and he said that he didn't believeany rabbit would have spunk enough to be in that business.
Mr. Rabbit was about to say something just then, but Mr. Crow and Mr.'Coon both interrupted and said they thought Mr. 'Possum was right foronce, except about Mr. Rabbit, who was plenty brave enough, but too muchof a gentleman to be out robbing people at night when he could be athome in bed asleep. Then Mr. Dog said:
"I don't know whether the story is true or not. I wrote it down as Iheard it among Mr. Man's fowls, and I know the duck that they still callErastus, and he's the finest, fattest--"
But Mr. D
og didn't get any further. For the Hollow Tree People broke inand said, all together:
"Oh, take us to see him, Mr. Dog! Or perhaps you could bring him to seeus. Invite him to spend an evening with us in the Hollow Tree. Tell himwe will have him for dinner and invite our friends. Oh, do, Mr. Dog!"
But Mr. Dog knew what they meant by having him for dinner, and he saidhe guessed Mr. Man would not be willing to have Erastus go out on aninvitation like that, and that if Erastus came, Mr. Man might take anotion to visit the Hollow Tree himself. Then the Hollow Tree Peopleall said, "Oh, never mind about Erastus! He's probably old anddisagreeable anyway. We don't think we would care for him. But it was anice story--very nice, indeed."
And pretty soon Mr. Dog said he'd been thinking about the robber animal,too, and had made up his mind that it might have been one of Mr. Cat'sfamily--for Mr. Man's little boy and girl had a book with a nice poem init about a robber cat, and a robber dog, too, though he didn't thinkthat the dog could have been any of _his_ family. Mr. Cat, he said,would not be likely to care for Erastus, feathers and all, that way, andno doubt it really was Mr. Cat who robbed him. Mr. Dog said that he hadonce heard of a Mr. Cat who wanted to be king--perhaps after Mr. Lionhad gone out of the king business, and that there was an old poem aboutit that Mr. Dog's mother used to sing to him, but he didn't think it hadever been put into a book. He said there were a good many things in ithe didn't suppose the Hollow Tree People would understand because it wasabout a different kind of a country--where his mother had been born--butthat if they really would like to hear it he would try to remember itfor them, as it would be something different from anything they had beenused to. Then the Hollow Tree People and their friends all said how gladthey would be to hear it, for they always liked to hear about newthings and new parts of the country; so Mr. Dog said that if some of theothers would read or sing or dance their jigs first, perhaps it wouldcome to him and he would sing it for them by and by.
Then Mr. Robin spoke up and said that he thought Mr. Dog's story had agood moral in it, and he said that _his_ story (Mr. Robin's, of course)was that kind of a story, too. Perhaps he'd better tell it now, he said,while their minds were running that way, though as for Mr. 'Possum'smind it seemed to be more on how good Erastus might be cooked than howgood he had become in his behavior. He was sorry, he said, that hisstory didn't have any ducks in it, young or old, but that perhaps Mr.'Possum and the others would be willing to wait for the nice pair ofcooked ones now hanging in Mr. Crow's pantry, to be served at the end ofthe literary exercises.
But Mr. 'Possum said "No," he wasn't willing to wait any longer--thatMr. Dog's story and the mention of those nice cooked fowls was more thanhe could bear, and that if it was all the same to Mr. Robin and theothers he voted to have supper first, and then he'd be better able tostand a strictly moral story on a full stomach.
Mr. Crow and Mr. 'Coon said that was a good idea, and Mr. Rabbit said hethought they'd better postpone Mr. Robin's story until the next evening,as Mr. 'Possum had taken up so much time with his arguments that hemust be hungrier than usual, and if he put in as much more time eating,it would be morning before they were ready to go on with the literaryprogramme.
Then they all looked at the clock and saw that it really was gettinglate, though that was the only way they could tell, for the snow coveredall the windows and made no difference between day and night in theHollow Tree.
The Hollow Tree Snowed-in Book Page 11