Mother West Wind 'Why' Stories by Thornton W. Burgess

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MOTHER WEST WIND "WHY" STORIES

by

THORNTON W. BURGESS

Author of "Old Mother West Wind," and
"The Bed Time Story-Books."

_Illustrations in Color by HARRISON CADY_

BOSTON

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY

1920

[Illustration: "He went right on about his business." FRONTISPIECE.]

BOOKS BY THORNTON W. BURGESS

BEDTIME STORY-BOOKS

1. THE ADVENTURES OF REDDY FOX
2. THE ADVENTURES OF JOHNNY CHUCK
3. THE ADVENTURES OF PETER COTTONTAIL
4. THE ADVENTURES OF UNC' BILLY POSSUM
5. THE ADVENTURES OF MR. MOCKER
6. THE ADVENTURES OF JERRY MUSKRAT
7. THE ADVENTURES OF DANNY MEADOW MOUSE
8. THE ADVENTURES OF GRANDFATHER FROG
9. THE ADVENTURES OF CHATTERER, THE RED SQUIRREL
10. THE ADVENTURES OF SAMMY JAY
11. THE ADVENTURES OF BUSTER BEAR
12. THE ADVENTURES OF OLD MR. TOAD
13. THE ADVENTURES OF PRICKLY PORKY
14. THE ADVENTURES OF OLD MAN COYOTE
15. THE ADVENTURES OF PADDY THE BEAVER
16. THE ADVENTURES OF POOR MRS. QUACK
17. THE ADVENTURES OF BOBBY COON
18. THE ADVENTURES OF JIMMY SKUNK
19. THE ADVENTURES OF BOB WHITE
20. THE ADVENTURES OF OL' MISTAH BUZZARD

MOTHER WEST WIND SERIES

1. OLD MOTHER WEST WIND
2. MOTHER WEST WIND'S CHILDREN
3. MOTHER WEST WIND'S ANIMAL FRIENDS
4. MOTHER WEST WIND'S NEIGHBORS
5. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHY" STORIES
6. MOTHER WEST WIND "HOW" STORIES
7. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHEN" STORIES
8. MOTHER WEST WIND "WHERE" STORIES

GREEN MEADOW SERIES

1. HAPPY JACK
2. MRS. PETER RABBIT
3. BOWSER THE HOUND
4. OLD GRANNY FOX

THE BURGESS BIRD BOOK FOR CHILDREN

THE BURGESS ANIMAL BOOK FOR CHILDREN

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. WHY STRIPED CHIPMUNK IS PROUD OF HIS STRIPES
II. WHY PETER RABBIT CANNOT FOLD HIS HANDS
III. WHY UNC' BILLY POSSUM PLAYS DEAD
IV. WHY REDDY FOX WEARS RED
V. WHY JIMMY SKUNK NEVER HURRIES
VI. WHY SAMMY JAY HAS A FINE COAT
VII. WHY JERRY MUSKRAT BUILDS HIS HOUSE IN THE WATER
VIII. WHY OLD MAN COYOTE HAS MANY VOICES
IX. WHY MINER THE MOLE LIVES UNDER GROUND
X. WHY MR. SNAKE CANNOT WINK
XI. WHY BOBBY COON HAS RINGS ON HIS TAIL
XII. WHY THERE IS A BLACK HEAD IN THE BUZZARD FAMILY
XIII. WHY BUSTER BEAR APPEARS TO HAVE NO TAIL
XIV. WHY FLITTER THE BAT FLIES AT NIGHT
XV. WHY SPOTTY THE TURTLE CARRIES HIS HOUSE WITH HIM
XVI. WHY PADDY THE BEAVER HAS A BROAD TAIL

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"HE WENT RIGHT ON ABOUT HIS BUSINESS"

"AS THEY WERE ALL VERY HUNGRY, THEY WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHEN THE FEAST
WOULD BE READY"

"YOU DON'T MEAN TO SAY SO, PETER," INTERRUPTED GRANDFATHER FROG

HE WOULD MAKE NO REPLY, SAVE TO RUN OUT HIS TONGUE AT THEM

"THEN OLD KING BEAR WISHED THAT HE HADN'T A TAIL"

"IT MUST BE FINE TO FLY," THOUGHT PETER. "I WISH I COULD FLY"

"HI, SPOTTY!" HE SHOUTED, "WHERE DO YOU LIVE?"

THE FIRST THING PETER LOOKED TO SEE WAS WHAT KIND OF A TAIL PADDY HAS

I

WHY STRIPED CHIPMUNK IS PROUD OF HIS STRIPES

The Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind are great friends of
Striped Chipmunk. They hurry to call on him the very first thing every
morning after Old Mother West Wind has brought them down from the
Purple Hills. They always beg him to stop and play with them, but
often he refuses. But he does it in such a merry way and with such a
twinkle in his eyes that the Merry Little Breezes never get cross
because he won't play. No, Sir, they never get cross. If anything,
they think just a little bit more of Striped Chipmunk because he won't
play. You see, they know that the reason he won't play is because he
has work to do, and Striped Chipmunk believes and says:

"When there is work for me to do
The sooner started, sooner through."

So every morning they ask him to play, and every morning they laugh
when he says he has too much to do. Then they rumple up his hair and
pull his whiskers and give him last tag and race down to the Smiling
Pool to see Grandfather Frog and beg him for a story. Now Grandfather
Frog is very old and very wise, and he knows all about the days when
the world was young. When he is feeling just right, he dearly loves to
tell about those long-ago days.

One morning the Merry Little Breezes found Grandfather Frog sitting
as usual on his big green lily-pad, and they knew by the way he folded
his hands across his white and yellow waistcoat that it was full of
foolish green flies.

"Oh, Grandfather Frog, please do tell us why it is that Striped
Chipmunk has such beautiful stripes on his coat," begged one of the
Merry Little Breezes.

"Chug-a-rum! They are stripes of honor," replied Grandfather Frog, in
his deep, gruff voice.

"Honor! Oh, how lovely! Do tell us about it! Please do!" begged the
Merry Little Breezes.

"Chug-a-rum!" began Grandfather Frog, his big, goggly eyes twinkling.
"Once upon a time, when the world was young, old Mr. Chipmunk, the
grandfather a thousand times removed of Striped Chipmunk, lived very
much as Striped Chipmunk does now. He was always very busy, very
busy, indeed, and it was always about his own affairs. 'By attending
strictly to my own business, I have no time to meddle with the affairs
of my neighbors, and so I keep out of trouble,' said old Mr.
Chipmunk,"

"Just what Striped Chipmunk says now," broke in one of the Merry
Little Breezes.

"That shows that he is just as wise as was his grandfather a thousand
times removed, about whom I am telling you," replied Grandfather Frog.
"Old Mr. Chipmunk wore just a little, plain brown coat. It didn't
worry him a bit, not a bit, that his coat was just plain brown. It
kept him just as warm as if it were a beautiful red, like that of Mr.
Fox, or handsome black and white, like that of Mr. Skunk. He was
perfectly satisfied with his little plain brown coat and took the best
of care of it.

"One day as he was hurrying home to dinner, he climbed up on an old
stump to look around and make sure that the way was clear. Over in a
little path in the meadow grass was walking old Mr. Meadow Mouse. He
was strolling along as if there was nothing in the world to fear. Way
back behind him in the same little path, walking very fast but very
quietly, was big Mr. Bob Cat. His eyes were yellow, and a hungry look
was in them. He didn't see Mr. Meadow Mouse, but he would in a few
minutes. Mr. Chipmunk saw that he would, and that there was no place
for Mr. Meadow Mouse to hide.

"'Humph! I never meddle in other people's affairs, and this is none of
my business,' said little Mr. Chipmunk.

"But old Mr. Meadow Mouse was a friend. He thought a great deal of Mr.
Meadow Mouse, did little Mr. Chipmunk. He couldn't bear to think of
what would happen to Mr. Meadow Mouse if big Mr. Bob Cat should catch
him. Then, almost without realizing what he was doing, little Mr.
Chipmunk began to shout at big Mr. Bob Cat and to call him names. Of
course big Mr. Bob Cat looked up right away and saw little Mr.
Chipmunk sitting on the old stump. His eyes grew yellower and
yellower, he drew his lips back from his long, sharp teeth in a very
angry way, and his little bob tail twitched and twitched. Then, with
great leaps, he came straight for the old stump on which little Mr.
Chipmunk was sitting.

"Little Mr. Chipmunk didn't wait for him to get there. Oh, my, no! He
took one good look at those fierce, hungry, yellow eyes and long,
cruel teeth, and then he whisked into a hole in the old stump. You
see, there wasn't time to go anywhere else. Big Mr. Bob Cat found the
hole in the stump right away. He snarled when he saw it. You see it
was too small, very much too small, for him to get into himself. But
he could get one hand and arm in, and he did, feeling all around
inside for little Mr. Chipmunk. Little Mr. Chipmunk was frightened
almost to death. Yes, Sir, he was frightened almost to death. He made
himself just as flat as he could on the bottom of the hollow and held
his breath.

"'You'd better come out of there, Mr. Chipmunk, or I'll pull you out!'
snarled Mr. Bob Cat.

"Little Mr. Chipmunk just snuggled down flatter than ever and didn't
say a word. Mr. Bob Cat felt round and round inside the hollow stump
and raked his long claws on the sides until little Mr. Chipmunk's hair
fairly stood up. Yes, Sir, it stood right up on end, he was so
scared. When it did that, it tickled the claws of Mr. Bob Cat. Mr.
Bob Cat grinned. It was an ugly grin to see. Then he reached in a
little farther and made a grab for little Mr. Chipmunk. His
wide-spread, sharp claws caught in little Mr. Chipmunk's coat near the
neck and tore little strips the whole length of it.

"Of course little Mr. Chipmunk squealed with pain, for those claws
hurt dreadfully, but he was glad that his coat tore. If it hadn't, Mr.
Bob Cat would surely have pulled him out. After a long time, Mr. Bob
Cat gave up and went off, growling and snarling. When he thought it
was safe, little Mr. Chipmunk crawled out of the old stump and hurried
home. He ached and smarted terribly, and his little plain brown coat
was torn in long strips.

"'This is what I get for meddling in the affairs of other folks!'
said little Mr. Chipmunk bitterly. 'If I'd just minded my own
business, it wouldn't have happened.'

"Just then he happened to look over to the house of Mr. Meadow Mouse.
There was Mr. Meadow Mouse playing with his children. He didn't know a
thing about what his neighbor, little Mr. Chipmunk, had done for him,
for you remember he hadn't seen Mr. Bob Cat at all. Little Mr.
Chipmunk grinned as well as he could for the pain.

"'I'm glad I did it,' he muttered. 'Yes, Sir, I'm glad I did it, and
I'm glad that Neighbor Meadow Mouse doesn't know about it. I'm glad
that nobody knows about it.

'A kindly deed's most kindly done
In secret wrought, and seen of none.

And so I'm glad that no one knows.'

"Now just imagine how surprised little Mr. Chipmunk was, when in the
fall it came time to put on a new coat, to have Old Mother Nature hand
him out a beautiful striped coat instead of the little plain brown
coat he had expected. Old Mother Nature's eyes twinkled as she said:

"'There's a stripe for every tear made in your old coat by the claws
of Mr. Bob Cat the day you saved Mr. Meadow Mouse. They are honor
stripes, and hereafter you and your children and your children's
children shall always wear stripes.'

"And that is how it happens that Striped Chipmunk comes by his striped
coat, and why he is so proud of it, and takes such good care of it,"
concluded Grandfather Frog.

II

WHY PETER RABBIT CANNOT FOLD HIS HANDS

Happy Jack Squirrel sat with his hands folded across his white
waistcoat. He is very fond of sitting with his hands folded that way.
A little way from him sat Peter Rabbit. Peter was sitting up very
straight, but his hands dropped right down in front. Happy Jack
noticed it.

"Why don't you fold your hands the way I do, Peter Rabbit?" shouted
Happy Jack.

"I--I--don't want to," stammered Peter.

"You mean you can't!" jeered Happy Jack.

Peter pretended not to hear, and a few minutes later he hopped away
towards the dear Old Briar-patch, lipperty-lipperty-lip. Happy Jack
watched him go, and there was a puzzled look in Happy Jack's eyes.

"I really believe he can't fold his hands," said Happy Jack to
himself, but speaking aloud.

"He can't, and none of his family can," said a gruff voice.

Happy Jack turned to find Old Mr. Toad sitting in the Lone Little
Path.

"Why not?" asked Happy Jack.

"Ask Grandfather Frog; he knows," replied Old Mr. Toad, and started on
about his business.

And this is how it happens that Grandfather Frog told this story to
the little meadow and forest people gathered around him on the bank of
the Smiling Pool.

"Chug-a-rum!" said Grandfather Frog. "Old Mr. Rabbit, the grandfather
a thousand times removed of Peter Rabbit, was always getting into
trouble. Yes, Sir, old Mr. Rabbit was always getting into trouble.
Seemed like he wouldn't be happy if he couldn't get into trouble. It
was all because he was so dreadfully curious about other people's
business, just as Peter Rabbit is now. It seemed that he was just born
to be curious and so, of course, to get into trouble.

"One day word came to the Green Forest and to the Green Meadows that
Old Mother Nature was coming to see how all the little meadow and
forest people were getting along, to settle all the little troubles
and fusses between them, and to find out who were and who were not
obeying the orders she had given them when she had visited them last.
My, my, my, such a hurrying and scurrying and worrying as there was!
You see, everybody wanted to look his best when Old Mother Nature
arrived, Yes, Sir, everybody wanted to look his best.

"There was the greatest changing of clothes you ever did see. Old King
Bear put on his blackest coat. Mr. Coon and Mr. Mink and Mr. Otter sat
up half the night brushing their suits and making them look as fine
and handsome as they could. Even Old Mr. Toad put on a new suit under
his old one, and planned to pull the old one off and throw it away as
soon as Old Mother Nature should arrive. Then everybody began to fix
up their homes and make them as neat and nice as they knew
how--everybody but Mr. Rabbit.

"Now Mr. Rabbit was lazy. He didn't like to work any more than Peter
Rabbit does now. No, Sir, old Mr. Rabbit was afraid of work. The very
sight of work scared old Mr. Rabbit. You see, he was so busy minding
other people's business that he didn't have time to attend to his own.
So his brown and gray coat always was rumpled and tumbled and dirty.
His house was a tumble-down affair in which no one but Mr. Rabbit
would ever have thought of living, and his garden--oh, dear me, such a
garden you never did see! It was all weeds and brambles. They filled
up the yard, and old Mr. Rabbit actually couldn't have gotten into his
own house if he hadn't cut a path through the brambles.

"Now when old Mr. Rabbit heard that Old Mother Nature was coming, his
heart sank way, way down, for he knew just how angry she would be when
she saw his house, his garden and his shabby suit.

"'Oh, dear! Oh, dear! What shall I do?' wailed Mr. Rabbit, wringing
his hands.

"'Get busy and clean up,' advised Mr. Woodchuck, hurrying about his
own work.

"Now Mr. Woodchuck was a worker and very, very neat. He meant to have
his home looking just as fine as he could make it. He brought up some
clean yellow sand from deep down in the ground and sprinkled it
smoothly over his doorstep.

"'I'll help you, if I get through my own work in time,' shouted Mr.
Woodchuck over his shoulder.

"That gave Mr. Rabbit an idea. He would ask all his neighbors to help
him, and perhaps then he could get his house and garden in order by
the time Old Mother Nature arrived. So Mr. Rabbit called on Mr. Skunk
and Mr. Coon and Mr. Mink and Mr. Squirrel and Mr. Chipmunk, and all
the rest of his neighbors, telling them of his trouble and asking them
to help. Now, in spite of the trouble Mr. Rabbit was forever making
for other people by his dreadful curiosity and meddling with other
people's affairs, all his neighbors had a warm place in their hearts
for Mr. Rabbit, and they all promised that they would help him as soon
as they had their own work finished.

"Instead of hurrying home and getting to work himself, Mr. Rabbit
stopped a while after each call and sat with his arms folded, watching
the one he was calling on work. Mr. Rabbit was very fond of sitting
with folded arms. It was very comfortable. But this was no time to be
doing it, and Mr. Skunk told him so.

"'If you want the rest of us to help you, you'd better get things
started yourself,' said old Mr. Skunk, carefully combing out his big,
plumy tail.

"'That's right, Mr. Skunk! That's right!' said Mr. Rabbit, starting
along briskly, just as if he was going to hurry right home and begin
work that very instant.

"But half an hour later, when Mr. Skunk happened to pass the home of
Mr. Chipmunk, there sat Mr. Rabbit with his arms folded, watching Mr.
Chipmunk hurrying about as only Mr. Chipmunk can.

"Finally Mr. Rabbit had made the round of all his friends and
neighbors, and he once more reached his tumble-down house. 'Oh, dear,'
sighed Mr. Rabbit, as he looked at the tangle of brambles which almost
hid the little old house, 'I never, never can clear away all this! It
will be a lot easier to work when all my friends are here to help,'
So he sighed once more and folded his arms, instead of beginning work
as he should have done. And then, because the sun was bright and warm,
and he was very, very comfortable, old Mr. Rabbit began to nod, and
presently he was fast asleep.

"Now Old Mother Nature likes to take people by surprise, and it
happened that she chose this very day to make her promised visit. She
was greatly pleased with all she saw as she went along, until she came
to the home of Mr. Rabbit.

"'Mercy me!' exclaimed Old Mother Nature, throwing up her hands as she
saw the tumble-down house almost hidden by the brambles and weeds.
'Can it be possible that any one really lives here?'

Then, peering through the tangle of brambles, she spied old Mr.
Rabbit sitting on his broken-down doorstep with his arms folded and
fast asleep.

"At first she was very indignant, oh, very indignant, indeed! She
decided that Mr. Rabbit should be punished very severely. But as she
watched him sitting there, dreaming in the warm sunshine, her anger
began to melt away. The fact is, Old Mother Nature was like all the
rest of Mr. Rabbit's neighbors--she just couldn't help loving
happy-go-lucky Mr. Rabbit in spite of all his faults. With a long
stick she reached in and tickled the end of his nose.

"Mr. Rabbit sneezed, and this made him wake up. He yawned and blinked,
and then his eyes suddenly flew wide open with fright. He had
discovered Old Mother Nature frowning at him. She pointed a long
forefinger at him and said:

'In every single blessed day
There's time for work and time for play.
Who folds his arms with work undone
Doth cheat himself and spoil his fun.'

"'Hereafter, Mr. Rabbit, you and your children and your children's
children will never again be able to sit with folded arms until you or
they have learned to work.'

"And that is why Peter Rabbit cannot fold his arms and still lives in
a tumble-down house among the brambles," concluded Grandfather
Frog.

III

WHY UNC' BILLY POSSUM PLAYS DEAD

One thing puzzled Peter Rabbit and Johnny Chuck and Striped Chipmunk a
great deal after they had come to know Unc' Billy Possum and his funny
ways. They had talked it over and wondered and wondered about it, and
tried to understand it, and even had asked Unc' Billy about it. Unc'
Billy had just grinned and said that they would have to ask his mammy.
Of course they couldn't do that, and Unc' Billy knew they couldn't,
for Unc' Billy's mammy had died long before he even thought of coming
up from Ol' Virginny to the Green Forest and the Green Meadows where
they lived. He said it just to tease them, and when he said it, he
chuckled until they chuckled too, just as if it really were the best
kind of a joke.

Now you know it always is the thing that you try and try to find out
and can't find out that you most want to find out. It was just so with
Peter Rabbit and Johnny Chuck and Striped Chipmunk. The more they
talked about it, the more they wanted to know. Why was it that Unc'
Billy Possum played dead instead of trying to run away when he was
surprised by his enemies? They always tried to run away. So did
everybody else of their acquaintance excepting Unc' Billy Possum.

"There must be a reason" said Peter gravely, as he pulled thoughtfully
at one of his long ears.

"Of course there is a reason," asserted Johnny Chuck, chewing the end
of a blade of grass.

"There's a reason for everything," added Striped Chipmunk, combing out
the hair of his funny little tail.

"Then of course Grandfather Frog knows it," said Peter.

"Of course! Why didn't we think of him before?" exclaimed the others.

"I'll beat you to the Smiling Pool!" shouted Peter.

Of course he did, for his legs are long and made for running, but
Striped Chipmunk was not far behind. Johnny Chuck took his time, for
he knew that he could not keep up with the others. Besides he was so
fat that to run made him puff and blow. Grandfather Frog sat just as
usual on his big green lily-pad, and he grinned when he saw who his
visitors were, for he guessed right away what they had come for.

"Chug-a-rum! What is it you want to know now?" he demanded, before
Peter could fairly get his breath.

"If you please, Grandfather Frog, we want to know why it is that Unc'
Billy Possum plays dead," replied Peter as politely as he knew how.

Grandfather Frog chuckled. "Just to fool people, stupid!" said he.

"Of course we know that," replied Striped Chipmunk, "but what we want
to know is how he ever found out that he could fool people that way,
and how he knows that he will fool them."

"I suspect that his mammy taught him," said Grandfather Frog, with
another chuckle way down deep in his throat.

"But who taught his mammy?" persisted Striped Chipmunk.

Grandfather Frog snapped at a foolish green fly, and when it was
safely tucked away inside his white and yellow waistcoat, he turned
once more to his three little visitors, and there was a twinkle in his
big, goggly eyes.

"I see," said he, "that you _will_ have a story, and I suppose that
the sooner I tell it to you, the sooner you will leave me in peace.
Unc' Billy Possum's grandfather a thousand times removed was--"

"Was this way back in the days when the world was young?" interrupted
Peter.

Grandfather Frog scowled at Peter. "If I have any more interruptions,
there will be no story to-day" said he severely.

Peter looked ashamed and promised that he would hold his tongue right
between his teeth until Grandfather Frog was through. Grandfather Frog
cleared his throat and began again.

"Unc' Billy Possum's grandfather a thousand times removed was very
much as Unc' Billy is now, only he was a little more spry and knew
better than to stuff himself so full that he couldn't run. He was
always very sly, and he played a great many tricks on his neighbors,
and sometimes he got them into trouble. But when he did, he always
managed to keep out of their way until they had forgotten all about
their anger.

"One morning the very imp of mischief seemed to get into old Mr.
Possum's head. Yes, Sir, it certainly did seem that way. And when you
see Mischief trotting along the Lone Little Path, if you look sharp
enough, you'll see Trouble following at his heels like a shadow. I
never knew it to fail. It's just as sure as a stomach-ache is to
follow overeating."

Just here Grandfather Frog paused and looked very hard at Peter
Rabbit. But Peter pretended not to notice, and after slowly winking
one of his big, goggly eyes at Johnny Chuck, Grandfather Frog
continued:

"Anyway, as I said before, the imp of mischief seemed to be in old Mr.
Possum's head that morning, for he began to play tricks on his
neighbors as soon as they were out of bed. He hid Old King Bear's
breakfast, while the latter had his head turned, and then pretended
that he had just come along. He was very polite and offered to help
Old King Bear hunt for his lost breakfast. Then, whenever Old King
Bear came near the place where it was hidden, old Mr. Possum would
hide it somewhere else. Old King Bear was hungry, and he worked
himself up into a terrible rage, for he was in a hurry for his
breakfast. Old Mr. Possum was very sympathetic and seemed to be doing
his very best to find the lost meal. At last Old King Bear turned his
head suddenly and caught sight of old Mr. Possum hiding that
breakfast in a new place. My, my, but his temper did boil over! It
certainly did. And if he could have laid hands on old Mr. Possum that
minute, it surely would have been the end of him.

"But old Mr. Possum was mighty spry, and he went off through the Green
Forest laughing fit to kill himself. Pretty soon he met Mr. Panther.
He was very polite to Mr. Panther. He told him that he had just come
from a call on Old King Bear, and hinted that Old King Bear was then
enjoying a feast and that there might be enough for Mr. Panther, if he
hurried up there at once.

"Now, Mr. Panther was hungry, for he had found nothing for his
breakfast that morning. So he thanked old Mr. Possum and hurried away
to find Old King Bear and share in the good things old Mr. Possum had
told about.

"Old Mr. Possum himself hurried on, chuckling as he thought of the way
Mr. Panther was likely to be received, with Old King Bear in such a
temper. Pretty soon along came Mr. Lynx. Old Mr. Possum told him the
same story he had told Mr. Panther, and Mr. Lynx went bounding off in
a terrible hurry, for fear that he would not be in time to share in
that good breakfast. It was such a good joke that old Mr. Possum tried
it on Mr. Wolf and Mr. Fisher and Mr. Fox. In fact, he hunted up every
one he could think of and sent them to call on Old King Bear, and
without really telling them so, he made each one think that he would
get a share in that breakfast."

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