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

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"Chug-a-rum!" said he in his deep voice. "It's very strange to me how
little some folks know about their nearest neighbors." He looked up
and winked at jolly, round, bright Mr. Sun.

Striped Chipmunk, Johnny Chuck, Jimmy Skunk, and Danny Meadow Mouse
looked as though they felt very foolish, as indeed they did. You see,
all their lives Miner the Mole had been one of their nearest
neighbors, and yet they didn't know the first thing about him.

"It happened a long time ago," continued Grandfather Frog.

"When the world was young?" interrupted Danny Meadow Mouse.

"Of course," replied Grandfather Frog, pretending to be very much put
out at such a foolish question. Danny hung his head and resolved that
he would bite his tongue before he asked another question.

"In those days Miner's great-great-grandfather a thousand times
removed didn't live under ground," continued Grandfather Frog. "Nobody
did. He wasn't so very different from a lot of other animals. Food was
plenty, and everybody was on the best of terms with everybody else.
Mr. Mole lived just as the rest did. He went and came as he pleased,
and enjoyed the sunshine and took part in all the good times of his
neighbors. Everybody liked him, and whenever he made a call, he was
sure of a welcome. But one thing Mr. Mole never did; he never meddled
in other people's affairs. No, Sir, Mr. Mole never poked his nose in
where he had no business.

"For a long time everything went smoothly with all the people of the
Green Forest and the Green Meadows. Then came hard times. They grew
harder and harder. Food was scarce and kept growing more scarce.
Everybody was hungry, and you know how it is with hungry people--they
grow ugly and quarrelsome. Matters grew worse and worse, and then it
was that fear was born. The big people, like Old King Bear and Mr.
Wolf and Mr. Panther and Mr. Lynx, began to look with hungry eyes on
the little people, and the little people began to grow afraid and hide
from the big people, and all the time they were continually quarreling
among themselves and stealing from each other to get enough to eat.

"Now, as I said before, Mr. Mole never had meddled with other people's
business, and he didn't now. He went off by himself to think things
over. 'It isn't safe to run around any more,' said he. 'I met Mr. Wolf
this morning, and he looked at me with such a hungry look in his eyes
that it gave me the cold shivers. I believe he would have eaten me, if
I hadn't crawled into an old hollow stump. Now I can't run fast,
because my legs are too short. I can't climb trees like Mr. Squirrel,
and I can't swim like Mr. Muskrat. The only thing I can do is to dig.'

"You see, Mr. Mole always had been very fond of digging, and he had
done so much of it that his front legs and claws had grown very stout.

"'Now if I dig a hole and keep out of sight, I won't have to worry
about Mr. Wolf or anybody else,' continued Mr. Mole to himself. So he
went to work at once and dug a hole on the Green Meadows, and, because
he wanted to be comfortable, he made a big hole. When it was finished,
he was tired, so he curled up at the bottom for a nap. He was awakened
by hearing voices outside. He knew those voices right away. They were
the voices of Mr. Fox and Mr. Badger.

"'These are terrible times,' said Mr. Fox. 'I'm so hungry that I'm
wasting away to a shadow. I wonder who has dug this hole.'

"'Mr. Mole,' replied Mr. Badger. 'I saw him at work here this
morning.

Have you noticed how very plump he looks?'

"'Yes,' replied Mr. Fox. 'He made my mouth water the very last time I
saw him. Seems to me I can smell him now. If he had made this hole
just a little bit bigger I would go down and pull him out, but I am
too tired to do any digging now.'

"'I tell you what,' replied Mr. Badger. 'We'll hunt together a little
longer, and then if we can't find anything to eat, we'll come back,
and I'll help you dig, I hate to hurt Mr. Mole, because he always
minds his own business, but these are hard times, and each one must
look out for himself.'

"With that they went away, leaving Mr. Mole shaking with fright at the
bottom of his hole. 'It's of no use,' thought Mr. Mole. 'If I go
outside, they will soon find me, and if I stay here, they will dig me
out. Oh, dear, oh, dear! What ever can I do?'

"He lay there feeling very helpless and miserable, when all of a
sudden a thought came to him. If he had made his hole small, just big
enough for him to crawl into, Mr. Badger and Mr. Fox would have had to
do a great deal of digging to make it big enough for either of them to
get in! He would make a little tunnel off one side and hide in that.
So he went to work and made a little tunnel off one side just big
enough for him to squeeze into. He worked very hard and very fast, and
by the time Mr. Badger and Mr. Fox returned, Mr. Mole was at the end
of a long tunnel, so far from the hole he had first dug that he knew
it would take them a long time to dig him out, even if they noticed
his tunnel.

"But they didn't. They dug down to the bottom of his hole and then,
because they didn't find him there, they straightway fell to
quarreling, each blaming the other for suggesting such a lot of hard
work for nothing. Finally they went away, still calling each other
names, and from that day to this, Foxes and Badgers have never been
friends.

"Mr. Mole was very thankful for his narrow escape, and it set him to
thinking. If he had a lot of these underground tunnels, no one would
be able to catch him. It was a splendid idea! He went to work on it at
once. And then he made a discovery--such a splendid discovery! There
was plenty of food to eat right down under ground--worms and
grubs--all he needed. After that, Mr. Mole spent all his time in his
tunnels and seldom put his nose outside. He was safe, and he was
comfortable, and he could always find something to eat by digging for
it.

"Little by little his old neighbors forgot all about him. Because he
had little use for them, his eyes grew smaller and smaller, and when
he did come up into the light, they hurt him so that he was glad to go
back into the dark again. He was perfectly happy and satisfied there,
and what is there in life better than to be happy and satisfied?"

"Nothing," replied Striped Chipmunk, at whom Grandfather Frog happened
to be looking when he asked the question.

"Right!" replied Grandfather Frog. "And now you know why Miner the
Mole lives under ground--because he is perfectly happy and satisfied
there."

Just then up came Peter Rabbit, all out of breath.

"Has Grandfather Frog been telling a story?" he panted.

"Yes," replied Striped Chipmunk, winking at Grandfather Frog, "and now
we are going back home perfectly happy and satisfied."

And to this day Peter Rabbit wonders what the story was that he
missed.

X

WHY MR. SNAKE CANNOT WINK

Peter Rabbit and Johnny Chuck were playing tag on the Green Meadows.
Of course Peter can run so much faster than Johnny Chuck that he would
never have been "it" if he had tried his best to keep out of the way.
But he didn't. No, Sir, Peter Rabbit didn't do anything of the kind.
He pretended that one of his long hind-legs was lame so that he had to
run on three legs, while Johnny Chuck could use all four. It was great
fun. They raced and dodged and twisted and turned. Sometimes Peter was
so excited that he would forget and use all four legs. Then Johnny
Chuck would shout "No fair!" Peter would say that he didn't mean to,
and to make up for it would be "it" and try to catch Johnny.

Now it happened that curled up on a little grassy tussock, taking an
early morning sun-bath, lay little Mr. Greensnake. Of course Peter
Rabbit and Johnny Chuck were not afraid of him. If it had been Mr.
Rattlesnake or Mr. Gophersnake, it would have been different. But from
little Mr. Greensnake there was nothing to fear, and sometimes, just
for fun, Peter would jump right over him. When he did that, Peter
always winked good-naturedly. But Mr. Greensnake never winked back.
Instead he would raise his head, run his tongue out at Peter, and hiss
in what he tried to make a very fierce and angry manner. Then Peter
would laugh and wink at him again. But never once did Mr. Greensnake
wink back.

[Illustration: He would make no reply, save to run out his tongue at
them.]

Peter was thinking of this as he and Johnny Chuck stretched out in a
sunny spot to get their breath and rest. He had never thought of it
before, but now that he had noticed it, he couldn't remember that he
ever had seen little Mr. Greensnake wink, nor any of Mr. Greensnake's
relatives. He mentioned the matter to Johnny Chuck.

"That's so," replied Johnny thoughtfully. "I never have seen any of
them wink, either. Do you suppose they can wink?"

"Let's go ask Mr. Greensnake," said Peter.

Up they hopped and raced over to the grassy tussock where Mr.
Greensnake lay, but to all their questions he would make no reply save
to run out his tongue at them. Finally they gave up asking him.

"I tell you what, let's go over to the Smiling Pool and ask
Grandfather Frog. He'll be sure to know, and perhaps, if he is feeling
good, he'll tell us a story," said Peter.

So off they scampered to the Smiling Pool. There they found
Grandfather Frog sitting on his big green lily-pad just as usual, and
Peter knew by the look in his great, goggly eyes that Grandfather Frog
had a good breakfast of foolish green flies tucked away inside his
white and yellow waistcoat. His eyes twinkled as Peter and Johnny very
politely wished him good morning.

"Good morning," said he gruffly.

But Peter had seen that twinkle in his eyes and knew that Grandfather
Frog was feeling good-natured in spite of his gruff greeting.

"If you please, Grandfather Frog, why doesn't Mr. Greensnake wink at
us when we wink at him?" he asked.

"Chug-a-rum! Because he can't," replied Grandfather Frog.

"Can't!" cried Peter Rabbit and Johnny Chuck together.

"That's what I said--can't," replied Grandfather Frog. "And no more
can Mr. Blacksnake, or Mr. Rattlesnake, or Mr. Gophersnake, or any
other member of the Snake family."

"Why not?" cried Peter and Johnny, all in the same breath.

"Chug-a-rum!" said Grandfather Frog, folding his hands across his
white and yellow waistcoat, "if you will sit still until I finish,
I'll tell you; but if you move or ask any foolish questions, I'll stop
right where I am, and you'll never hear the end of the story, for no
one else knows it."

Of course Peter and Johnny promised to sit perfectly still and not say
a word. After they had made themselves comfortable, Grandfather Frog
cleared his throat as if to begin, but for a long time he didn't say a
word. Once Peter opened his mouth to ask why, but remembered in time
and closed it again without making a sound.

At last Grandfather Frog cleared his throat once more, and with a
far-away look in his great, goggly eyes began:

"Once upon a time, long, long ago, when the world was young, lived old
Mr. Snake, the grandfather a thousand times removed of little Mr.
Greensnake and all the other Snakes whom you know. Of course he wasn't
old then. He was young and spry and smart, was Mr. Snake. Now there is
such a thing as being too smart. That was the trouble with Mr. Snake.
Yes, Sir, that was the trouble with Mr. Snake. He was so smart that he
soon found out that he was the smartest of all the meadow and forest
people, and that was a bad thing. It certainly was a very bad thing."
Grandfather Frog shook his head gravely.

"You see," he continued, "as soon as he found that out, he began to
take advantage of his neighbors and cheat them, but he would do it so
smoothly that they never once suspected that they were being cheated.
Mr. Snake would go about all day cheating everybody he met. At night
he would go home and chuckle over his smartness. It wasn't long before
he began to look down on his neighbors for being so honest that they
didn't suspect other people of being dishonest, and for being so
easily cheated.

"Now one bad habit almost always leads to another. From cheating, Mr.
Snake just naturally slipped to stealing. Yes, Sir, he became a thief.
Of course that made trouble right away, but still no one suspected
Mr. Snake. He was always very polite to every one and always offering
to do favors for his neighbors. In fact, Mr. Snake was very well liked
and much respected. When any one had been robbed, he was always the
first to offer sympathy and join in the hunt for the thief. He was so
spry and slim, and could slip through the tall grass so fast, that he
could go almost where he pleased without being seen, and this made him
very bold. If he did happen to be found near the scene of trouble, he
always had a story ready to account for his presence, and it sounded
so true, and he told it in such an honest manner, that no one thought
of doubting it.

"So Mr. Snake found that lying helped him to cheat and steal, and all
the time he kept thinking how smart he was. But even Mr. Snake had a
little bit of conscience, and once in a while it would trouble him. So
what do you think he did? Why, cheating had become such a habit with
him that he actually tried to cheat himself--to cheat his conscience!
When he was telling a lie, he would wink one eye. 'That,' said he to
himself, 'means that it isn't true, and if these folks are not smart
enough to see me wink and know what it means, it is their own fault if
they believe what I am telling them.' But always he took care to wink
the eye that was turned away from the one he was talking to.

"Dear me, dear me, such terrible times as there were on the Green
Meadows and in the Green Forest! They grew worse and worse, and when
at last Old Mother Nature came to see how all the little people were
getting along, she heard so many complaints that she hardly knew
where to begin to straighten matters out. She had all the little
people come before her in turn and tell their troubles. When it came
Mr. Snake's turn, he had no complaint to make. He seemed to be the
only one who had no troubles. She asked him a great many questions,
and for each one he had a ready reply. Of course a great many of these
replies were lies, and every time he told one of these, he winked
without knowing it. You see, it had become a habit.

"Now, with all his smartness, Mr. Snake had forgotten one thing, one
very important thing. It was this: You can't fool Old Mother Nature,
and it is of no use to try. He hadn't been talking three minutes
before she knew who was at the bottom of all the trouble. She let him
finish, then called all the others about her and told them who had
made all the trouble. Mr. Snake was very bold. He held his head very
high in the air and pretended not to care. When Old Mother Nature
turned her head, he even ran out his tongue at her, just as all the
Snake family do at you and me to-day. When she had finished telling
them how cheating and stealing and lying isn't smart at all, but very,
very dreadful, she turned to Mr. Snake and said:

"'From this time on, no one will believe anything you say, and you
shall have no friends. You will never wink again, for you and your
children and your children's children forever will have no eyelids,
that all the world may know that those who make a wrong use of the
things given them shall have them taken away.'

"And now you know why little Mr. Greensnake cannot wink at you; he
hasn't any eyelids to wink with" finished Grandfather Frog.

Peter Rabbit drew a long breath. "Thank you, oh, thank you ever so
much, Grandfather Frog," he said. "Will you tell us next time why
Bobby Coon wears rings on his tail?"

"Perhaps," replied Grandfather Frog.

XI

WHY BOBBY COON HAS RINGS ON HIS TAIL

Peter Rabbit would give Grandfather Frog no peace. Every day Peter
visited the Smiling Pool to tease Grandfather Frog for a story--for
one particular story. He wanted to know why it is that Bobby Coon
wears rings on his tail. You see, Peter had admired Bobby Coon's tail
for a long time. Peter has such a funny little tail himself, just a
little white bunch of cotton, that such a handsome tail as Bobby
Coon's sometimes stirs just a wee bit of envy in Peter's heart.

But it wasn't envy so much as curiosity that prompted Peter to tease
for that story. Bobby Coon's tail is very handsome, you know. It has
beautiful rings of black and gray, and Peter didn't know of any other
tail at all like it. Somehow, he felt right down deep in his heart
that there must be a reason for those rings, just as there is a reason
for his own long ears and long legs. The more he thought about it, the
more he felt that he simply must know, and the only way he could find
out was from Grandfather Frog, who is very old and very wise. So he
teased and he teased until finally Grandfather Frog promised him that
on the next afternoon he would tell Peter why Bobby Coon has rings on
his tail. Peter hurried away to tell all the little meadow and forest
people, and the next afternoon they were all on hand on the bank of
the Smiling Pool to hear the story about Bobby Coon's tail.

"Chug-a-rum!" began Grandfather Frog, smoothing down his white and
yellow waistcoat. "Chug-a-rum! Some folks seem to think that what they
do doesn't matter to anybody but themselves. That was the way with old
Mr. Rabbit, who lived a long time ago when the world was young. He
thought he could make all the trouble he pleased by his dreadful
curiosity, and if he was found out, no one would suffer but himself.
But it wasn't so. Here is Peter Rabbit, his grandchild a thousand
times removed, with long legs and long ears, and the bad habit of
curiosity, all because old Mr. Rabbit had a bad habit and didn't try
to overcome it.

"It was the same way with old Mr. Coon. He was dishonest and stole
from Old King Bear. Old Mother Nature punished him by putting mustard
in his food, and Mr. Coon thought he was so smart that he could get
ahead of Old Mother Nature by washing all his food before he ate it.
Old Mother Nature didn't say anything, but watched him and smiled to
herself. You see, she knew that Mr. Coon was beginning a good habit, a
very good habit indeed--the habit of neatness. So, though she knew
perfectly well that he was doing it just to get ahead of her, she was
glad, for she was fond of Mr. Coon in spite of the bad ways he had
grown into, and she knew that good habits are like bad habits--once
started they grow and grow, and are very likely to lead to more good
habits.

"It was so with Mr. Coon. He found that his food tasted better for
being so clean, and he grew very fussy about what he ate. No matter
where he found it or how tempting it looked, he wouldn't eat it until
he had carried it to the nearest water and washed it. He still
remembered the mustard and tried to fool himself into thinking that
he was simply spiting Old Mother Nature, but right down in his heart
he knew that even if he should be told that never again would there be
mustard in his food, he would wash it just the same.

"One day, as he sat beside the Laughing Brook eating his supper, he
noticed that while his food had been washed clean, his hands were
dirty. They spoiled his supper. Yes, Sir, they spoiled his supper.

"'What good does it do to wash my food, if I eat it out of dirty
hands?' said Mr. Coon to himself, and he hurried to a quiet little
pool to give them a good scrubbing. Then he washed his face and
brushed his coat. 'Now I feel better, and I know my supper will taste
better,' said he.

"From that time he began to be particular, very particular, about
keeping himself clean, until finally there was no one on the Green
Meadows or in the Green Forest quite so neat as Mr. Coon.

"Now at this time Mr. Coon had a very plain tail. It was all of one
color, a grayish white, not at all pretty. Mr. Coon used to think a
great deal about that tail and wish and wish that it was handsome.
Sometimes he used to envy Mr. Fox his beautiful red tail with its
black and white tip. One day, as he sat on an old log with his chin in
his hands, thinking about his tail, who should come along but Old
Mother Nature.

"'Good morning, Mr. Coon,' said she in her pleasantest voice.

"Mr. Coon got up and made a very low bow. 'Good morning, Mother
Nature,' he replied in his politest manner, which was very polite
indeed.

"'What were you thinking about so hard?' asked Old Mother Nature.

"Mr. Coon looked a little bit ashamed. Then he sighed. 'I was wishing
that my tail was handsomer,' said he. 'But it is a very good tail as
it is,' he added hastily.

"Old Mother Nature's eyes twinkled. She sat down beside Mr. Coon and
asked him all about his affairs, just as if she didn't know all about
them already. She told him how pleased she was to find him so neat and
clean, and Mr. Coon just tingled all over with pleasure. At last she
got up to go, and her eyes twinkled more than ever, as she said:

"'By the way, Mr. Coon, I am so pleased with your neatness that I am
leaving you a reward. I hope you will like it.'

"Mr. Coon didn't see any reward, but he thanked her just the same, and
Old Mother Nature went on her way. Mr. Coon watched her out of sight.
Then he sat down on the old log again and scratched his head
thoughtfully as he looked this way and that.

"'I wonder what she meant by reward. I don't see any anywhere,' he
said to himself.

"By and by he just happened to glance at his tail. 'Oh!' cried Mr.
Coon, and then for a long time he couldn't say another word, but just
looked and looked with shining eyes and such a queer feeling of
happiness in his heart. You see, Old Mother Nature had left a
beautiful, broad, black ring around his tail. Mr. Coon couldn't do
anything the rest of that day but look at and admire that ring, until
his neck ached from twisting it around so long.

"After that he was neater than ever, you may be sure, and the next
time Old Mother Nature came around, she left another handsome black
ring on his tail, because he hadn't grown careless, but had kept up
his good habits.

"Now about this time, hard times came to all the little people of the
Green Forest and the Green Meadows. Every one began to grumble. Mr.
Bear grumbled. Mr. Fox grumbled. Mr. Rabbit grumbled. Mr. Jay
grumbled. Mr. Squirrel grumbled. Even Mr. Chuck grumbled. And one and
all they began to blame Old Mother Nature. Then they began to quarrel
among themselves and to steal from each other. Some even left their
homes and went out into the Great World to try to find a better place
to live, only to find that the Great World was a harder place to live
in than the Green Forest and the Green Meadows.

"But Mr. Coon didn't grumble, and he didn't go away. No, Sir, Mr. Coon
just stuck to his home and did the best he could to find enough to
eat. He kept himself as neat as ever and was always cheerful. Whenever
he met one of his grumbling neighbors, he would say:

"'Better times coming! Better times coming! Old Mother Nature is doing
the best she can. Better times coming!'

"The others would laugh at him for his faith in Old Mother Nature, and
say ugly things about her, and urge Mr. Coon to go with them out into
the Great World. But he kept right on minding his own business and
keeping neat and cheerful, until at last Old Mother Nature, all
worried and troubled, came to see what she could do to straighten
matters out. It didn't take her long to find out how all the little
meadow and forest people, except Mr. Coon, had grumbled and been
discontented and said ugly things about her, for you can't fool Old
Mother Nature, and it's of no use to try. Some she punished one way,
and some she punished another way, for of course she hadn't been to
blame for the hard times, but had been working night and day to put an
end to them.

"Mr. Coon was the last to be called before her, and instead of being
frowning and cross, as she had been to the others, she was all smiles.
She said a lot of nice things to him, and when at last she sent him
away, what do you think she had given him?"

"More rings," cried Peter Rabbit.

"Yes," replied Grandfather Frog, "Mr. Coon's tail was ringed way to
the tip. There was one for cheerfulness, and one for faith, and one
for persistence in making the best of a bad matter and staying at
home. And ever since that long-ago day when the world was young, the
Coons have been very proud of their beautiful tails and have kept up
the good habits of old Mr. Coon. Now you know, Peter Rabbit, why
Bobby Coon wears rings on his tail," concluded Grandfather Frog.

Peter gave a long sigh. "I think it's perfectly beautiful," he said.
"I wish I had rings on my tail."

And then he wondered why everybody laughed.

XII

WHY THERE IS A BLACK HEAD IN THE BUZZARD FAMILY

Ol' Mistah Buzzard had just told the story of why he has a bald head
and is proud of it. You know he hasn't a feather on it, and it is
very, very red. It was a very interesting story, and it had been
listened to with the closest attention by a lot of the little meadow
and forest people. Unc' Billy Possum, who is Ol' Mistah Buzzard's
particular friend, both having come from "way down souf," happened
along just in time to hear the end of it.

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