Or winter or summer or fall,
I'll sing not of these, because, if you please,
I'll sing of just nothing at all.
Just nothing at all, because, oh, ho!
I'll sing of myself, an old black crow.
As black as a coal and as homely as sin —
What more can I tell you, I pray?
For when you have nothing to sing of, why, then,
Of course there is nothing to say.
Nothing to say at all, oh, ho!
Except good-by to the old black crow —
The rollicking old black crow!
They made a good deal of fuss over Mr. Crow's poem. They applauded, of course, but they said it wasn't so at all, and that Mr. Crow was a good deal more than "just nothing." They said that it was he who had got up this party, and that he was the best man to plan and cook anywhere. Mr. 'Possum said he even liked Mr. Crow's April fool chicken pies, and then they all remembered and laughed, even to Mr. Crow himself. After that it was Mr. Squirrel's turn. Mr. Squirrel coughed twice and straightened his vest before he began, so they knew his poem wasn't to be funny.
THE FOOLISH LITTLE LAD
BY MR. GRAY SQUIRREL
Once on a time, the story goes,
A silly squirrel lad
One summer day did run away —
Which made his ma feel bad.
She hunted for him up and down
And round and round she ran —
Alas, that foolish squirrel boy
Was caught by Mr. Man.
For he had tried to climb a tree
As Mr. Man came past.
"I'll make you climb!" said Mr. Man,
And walked home pretty fast.
When he got there a boy came out
As Mr. Man went in.
That silly squirrel soon was put
Into a house of tin.
"Now you can climb!" said Mr. Man,
But when he did he found
That nice tin house, so bright and new,
Turned round and round and round.
And there he climbs and climbs all day
And never seems to stop,
And I have heard my mother say
He'll never reach the top.
When Mr. Squirrel sat down there wasn't a dry eye in the room, and even Mr. Dog outside was affected. He said he'd seen that poor little squirrel at Mr. Man's house turning and turning away in his tin wheel, and felt so sorry for him that two or three times he'd tried to get him out. He said, though, that Mr. Man had always caught him at it and that then they didn't get on well for a day or two. He was so tender hearted, though, he said, that he couldn't help pitying the little fellow, climbing and climbing all day long and never getting anywhere. Mr. 'Possum shivered, and said it reminded him of bad dreams he'd had sometimes, when he'd eaten too much supper, and dreamed of climbing the rainbow. Then they all sat still and waited for Mr. Turtle, who came next.
MY SNUG HOUSE
BY D'LAND TURTLE
Oh, what do I care for your houses of wood,
Your houses of brick or of stone,
When I have a house that is cozy and good —
A beautiful house of my own?
And the doors will not sag and the roof will not crack
Of the house that I carry about on my back.
It is never too large and 'tis never too small,
It is with me wherever I roam.
In spring or in summer, in winter or fall,
I always can find my way home.
For it isn't so hard to remember the track
To the house that you carry about on your back.
Well, of course, everybody applauded that, and then it was Mr. 'Coon's time. Mr. 'Coon said he was like Mr. 'Possum. He wasn't much on poetry, and only had four lines. He said they were some like Mr. 'Possum's too.
THE BEST THINGS
BY Z. 'COON
I like the spring, I like the fall,
I like the cold and heat,
And poems, too, but best of all
I like good things to eat.
That brought the house down, and the Hollow Tree people thought the entertainment was over. They were going to have supper right away, but Mr. Dog called out to wait a minute. He said he had a little poem himself that he wanted to read. So out of politeness they all sat still, though they didn't expect very much. Then Mr. Dog unrolled his poem and leaned over close to the blinds and commenced to read.
MY FOREST FRIENDS
BY MR. DOG
Oh, dear to me my forest friends,
Especially Mr. Rabbit —
I love his poetry very much,
And every gentle habit.
And dear to me is Mr. 'Coon,
And also Mr. 'Possum;
I hope to win their friendship soon —
'Twill be a precious blossom.
And Mr. Crow and Robin, too,
With fancy sweet and fertile,
And Mr. Squirrel, kind and true,
And likewise Mr. Turtle.
Oh, dear to me my forest friends,
Especially Mr. Rabbit —
I love his poetry very much,
And every gentle habit.
Before Mr. Dog was half through reading the Hollow Tree people had gathered around the window to listen. By the time he got to the end of the third stanza he had to stop for them to cheer, and when he read the last one, Jack Rabbit pounded on the shutter with his fist and shouted, "Hurrah for Mr. Dog! Hurrah for Mr. Dog!" just as loud as ever he could, while all the others crowded up and shouted and tried to pound, too.
Well, maybe the shutter wasn't very strong, or maybe they crowded and pounded too hard in their excitement over Mr. Dog's nice poem, for all at once there was a loud crack and the shutter flew open and out went Mr. Rabbit right smack into the arms of Mr. Dog!
I tell you that was pretty sudden and Mr. Rabbit was scared. So were all the others, and they were going to grab the shutter and close it again and leave Mr. Rabbit out there. But Jack Rabbit thinks quick.
"Oh, Mr. Dog," he said, "that was the nicest poem I ever heard. Let me embrace you, Mr. Dog, and be your friend for ever after!"
Then he hugged Mr. Dog just as tight as he could, and Mr. Dog hugged him, too, and shed tears, he was that happy. He had been wanting to make up with the forest people for a long time, but he hadn't expected this. Then the others all saw how it was and they shouted, "Hurrah for Mr. Dog!" again and invited him in. And Mr. Dog went in and they had the biggest supper and the biggest time that ever was known in the Hollow Tree.
And that's how Mr. Dog got to be friends with all the Hollow Tree people at last. And he stayed friends with them ever and ever so long – and longer – just as long as he lived, for the Mr. Dog that isn't good friends with them now isn't the same Mr. Dog. And he isn't as smart, either, for he can't write poetry, and he's never even been able to find the Hollow Tree where the 'Coon and 'Possum and the Old Black Crow live together and every summer keep open house for their friends.
MR. RABBIT'S UNWELCOME COMPANY
MR. POLECAT MAKES A MORNING CALL AND MR. DOG DROPS IN
I THINK I shall have to tell you about Mr. Polecat, said the Story Teller, and about his visit to Mr. Rabbit.
"Who's Mr. Polecat?" said the Little Lady. "You never told me about him before."
Well, no, because you see Mr. Polecat is so queer in some of his ways that people even don't talk about him a great deal. He is really quite a nice gentleman, though, when he doesn't get excited. But when he does he loses friends.
The trouble is with the sort of perfumery he uses when he gets excited, just as some people use a smelling-bottle, and nobody seems to like the sort Mr. Polecat uses except himself. I suppose he must like it or he wouldn't be so free with it. But other people go away when he uses it – mostly in the direction the wind's blowing from – and in a hurry, as if they were afraid they'd miss a train. Even Mr. Dog doesn't stop to argue with Mr. Polecat. Nobody does, and all the other Deep Woods people do their best to make him happy and to keep him in a good humor whenever he comes about, and give him their nicest things to eat and a lot to carry home with him, so he'll start just as soon as possible.
But, more than anything, they try to keep him from saying anything about Mr. Dog, or hinting or even thinking about Mr. Dog, for when he does any of these things he's apt to get excited, and then sometimes he opens up that perfume of his, and his friends fall over each other to get out of reach. They're never very happy to see him coming, and they're always glad to see him go, even when he's had a quiet visit and goes pretty soon, which is just what didn't happen one time when he came to call on Jack Rabbit, and it's that time I'm going to tell about. This was before Mr. Dog made up with the Hollow Tree people; I don't know exactly how long before, but a good while.
Mr. Rabbit looked out his door one morning and there was Mr. Polecat, all dressed up, coming to see him. He wasn't very far off, either, and Mr. Rabbit hardly had time to jerk down a crayon picture of Mr. Dog that he'd made the day before, just for practice. He pushed it under the bed quick, and when Mr. Polecat came up he bowed and smiled, and said what a nice day it was, and that he'd bring a chair outside if Mr. Polecat would like to sit there instead of coming in where it wasn't so pleasant.
But Mr. Polecat said he guessed he'd come in, as it was a little chilly and he didn't feel very well anyway. So he came inside, and Jack Rabbit gave him his best chair and brought out a little table and put a lot of nice things on it that Mr. Polecat likes, and began right away to pack a basket for him to take home.
But Mr. Polecat didn't seem to be in any hurry to go. He ate some of the nice things, and then leaned back to talk and smoke, and told Mr. Rabbit all the news he'd heard as he came along, and Mr. Rabbit got more and more worried, for he knew that just as likely as not Mr. Polecat had heard something about Mr. Dog and would begin to tell it pretty soon, and then no knowing what would happen. So Jack Rabbit just said "Yes" and "No" and began to talk about Mr. Robin, because Mr. Robin was a good friend of everybody and nobody could get excited just talking about Mr. Robin. But Mr. Polecat says: —
"Oh, yes, I saw Mr. Robin as I came along, and he called to me that Mr. Dog – "
And then Jack Rabbit changed the subject as quick as he could and spoke about Mr. Squirrel, and Mr. Polecat says: —
"Oh, did you hear how Mr. Squirrel went over to Mr. Man's house and saw Mr. Dog there – "
And then poor Mr. Rabbit had to think quick and change the subject again to the Hollow Tree people, and Mr. Polecat said: —
"Oh, yes. I stopped by that way as I came along, and they called out to me from up stairs how you were practising drawing, and that you gave Mr. Dog some dancing lessons the other day, and then made a fine picture of him just as he looked when he danced into the hot coals, so I hurried right over here for just to see that picture."
Poor Mr. Rabbit! He didn't know what to do. He knew right away that the Hollow Tree people had told about the picture to get rid of Mr. Polecat, and he made up his mind that he'd get even with them some day for getting him in such a fix. But some day was a long ways off and Mr. Polecat was right there under his nose, so Mr. Rabbit said, just as quick as he could say it, that the Hollow Tree people were always making jokes, and that the picture was just as poor as it could be, and that he'd be ashamed to show it to anybody, much more to a talented gentleman like Mr. Polecat. But that made Mr. Polecat all the more anxious to see it, for he was sure Mr. Rabbit was only modest, and pretty soon he happened to spy the edge of the picture frame under Mr. Rabbit's bed, and just reached under and pulled it out, before Mr. Rabbit could help himself.
Well, he picked up that picture and looked at it a minute, and Jack Rabbit began to back off toward the door and say a few soothing words, when all at once Mr. Polecat leaned back and commenced to laugh and laugh at the funny picture Mr. Dog made where Mr. Rabbit called to him, "Dance! Mr. Dog; dance!" And then, of course, Mr. Rabbit felt better, for if his company thought it was funny and laughed there wasn't so much danger.
"Why," said Mr. Polecat, "it's the best thing I ever saw! You could almost imagine that Mr. Dog himself was right here, howling and barking and dancing."
"Oh, no, hardly that," said Mr. Rabbit. "Of course I suppose it is a little like him, but it's not at all as if he were here, you know – not at all – and he's ever so far off, I'm sure, and won't come again for a long time. You know, he's – "
"Oh, yes, it is!" declared Mr. Polecat. "It's just as if he were right here. And I can just hear him howl and bark, and – "
And right there Mr. Polecat stopped and Mr. Rabbit stopped, and both of them held their breath and listened, for sure enough they did hear Mr. Dog howling and barking and coming toward the house as straight as he could come.