Mr. Crow had dared Tommy Fox to go down to pay a call on his friend dog Spot, at Farmer Green's place. And Tommy was trotting along across the fields. He was quite near Farmer Green's house when he heard a dog bark not far away.
"There's Spot now!" Tommy said to himself. And he turned at once in the direction of the barking. He was smiling, for he knew Spot would be greatly pleased to see him, and very much surprised, too.
Tommy stole slyly up toward the place where the dog was barking. The sound came from beyond some bushes. And Tommy thought he would jump out from behind the bushes and startle Spot. So he crept up to the bushes and then suddenly gave a yelp and leaped clean over them.
It was Tommy Fox himself who got the surprise. For there was a strange dog! And as soon as he saw Tommy he sprang after him.
Tommy did not wait a second. He left that place a great deal faster than he came. And as he went skimming over the fields, a red streak against the brown stubble, he could hear Mr. Crow laughing heartily. The old fellow had sailed along high over Tommy's head, to see what happened; and he was greatly pleased with himself. You see, he knew that Farmer Green's hired man had brought home a new dog just a few days before, and Mr. Crow hoped that if Tommy went to the farm-yard he would meet the strange dog.
Tommy was very angry. He saw at once that old Mr. Crow had tricked him and he made up his mind that if he ever had a chance he would get even with the old gentleman. But now he had no time to think about that. There was that strange dog, following hot on his trail. Tommy had quite enough to worry him, without bothering his head over Mr. Crow just then.
Now, even if Tommy Fox was conceited, he was really a very bright youngster. And as he bounded along he thought of a pretty clever scheme. Yes, he thought of a fine trick to play on that dog. The idea came to him all at once. And as soon as the thought popped into his head, Tommy turned toward Swift River. He was at the bank in no time, and he skipped nimbly down to the river's edge.
Tommy Fox could see no water at all running in Swift River. And you might think he was disappointed. But he wasn't. He found exactly what he had hoped for. He could see no water running, down there in the bed of the river, becausethe river was covered with ice.It was just a thin shell of ice; but it was strong enough to bear Tommy's weight. He ran across it quickly. And then what do you suppose he did? He sat right down on the opposite bank!
Tommy Fox wanted to see the fun. He had to wait only a minute. For pretty soon the strange dog came rushing down the opposite bank of the river and leaped far out from the edge of the stream.
There was a crash, and a splitting, crackling noise! And the strange dog was floundering in the cold water. The ice was not thick enough to hold him up, and he had hard work to scramble back to the bank again. But he climbed out of the water at last, and tucked his tail between his legs and made off.
Old Mr. Crow saw what happened. He stopped laughing. And he sailed away silently, thinking that Tommy Fox was a pretty smart young cub, after all.
After he outwitted the strange dog, Tommy Fox became more of a braggart than ever. He thought that he knew just about all there was to know. But with the coming of winter Tommy found that he had many things to learn. It was almost like living in a different world, for the ground was white everywhere. And though Tommy Fox loved to play in the snow, he discovered one thing about it that he did not like at all. It frightened him when he saw how plainly his footprints showed after a fresh snow-fall. And he wondered how he would ever be able to escape being caught, should any strange dog chase him.
As the winter days passed, Tommy learned that it was very hard for him to run fast in a light, dry snow—that through such snow a dog could run much faster than he could. But when there was a thin crust he could go skipping along like the wind, while dogs, being heavier, broke through the crust and floundered about in the softer snow beneath.
One day Tommy and his mother were out hunting. The snow was very deep everywhere, for it was mid-winter. And it had thawed and frozen so often that the snow was quite hard, except for just about an inch of fresh snow which had fallen during the night. Tommy and his mother could see rabbit tracks all around them; and they had very good luck hunting. But something happened that wasn't exactly lucky. They had turned toward home, when a dog bayed somewhere behind them, and pretty soon Mrs. Fox saw that they were being followed.
She and Tommy started to run. And Tommy saw that there was one more bad thing about winter. Swift River, and all the little brooks, were covered with thick ice and there was no chance at all for him and his mother to run through shallow water and throw the dog off their scent.
It was that strange dog that was chasing them—the one that belonged to Farmer Green's hired man. He was a very fast runner, and in spite of the usual tricks that foxes know, Mrs. Fox and Tommy could not lose him.
Tommy began to be frightened. And old Mrs. Fox herself was somewhat worried. But she still had a few tricks up her sleeve. She didn't intend to let that dog catch them if she could help it.
[Illustration with caption: Mrs. Fox and Tommy Started to Run]
"Oh, Mother! whatever shall we do?" Tommy said. "Do you think we can get away from him?"
"Of course," Mrs. Fox answered. "But you must do just as I tell you. Now, follow right in my tracks, and don't be frightened, I'm going to show you a new trick—one that my own mother taught me when I was no older than you are."
Mrs. Fox turned to the right and started back across the valley. She was going straight toward Swift River.
"Oh, dear!" Tommy cried. "Don't you know that the river is frozen solid, Mother? The dog can follow us across it, as easy as anything."
"Stop fussing!" Mrs. Fox said, looking over her shoulder at Tommy."We're not going to the river. You just mind me and you'll see, in afew minutes, that we can fool that dog." And she kept on running, withTommy right at her heels.
Now, there was a road that ran through the valley, along the bank of Swift River. And when Mrs. Fox reached it, with Tommy close behind her, she turned again—this time to the left—and ran along in the beaten track which the horses and sleighs had made.
Tommy Fox thought it very strange that his mother should lead him to the road, where they were sure to find people driving. Tommy followed her. But he was very unhappy. They swung into the road just ahead of a farmer, who was driving along in a sleigh. The sleigh-bells tinkled merrily as the horse trotted smartly down the road. But the jingling of the bells did not sound at all pleasant to Tommy Fox. It only frightened him all the more.
The farmer in the sleigh did not see Tommy and his mother, for the snow rose high on both sides, and the road wound in and out. Little did he know that Mrs. Fox and Tommy were scampering along in front of him. Of course, he couldn't catch them, anyhow. Tommy knew that much. But if they ran very far down the road they would be sure to meet some other man.
To Tommy it seemed bad enough to have that dog chasing them, without going where they were sure to find other enemies. Tommy could hear the dog baying. And he knew dogs well enough to know that that dog felt very sure he was going to catch them. But pretty soon Tommy heard the dog talking in a very different fashion. He gave a number of short barks, which meant that he was in trouble.
Mrs. Fox looked over her shoulder and smiled at Tommy. She knew that they were safe. She knew that the dog had not reached the road until the farmer had driven right over their footsteps and spoiled their scent. After the horse had passed over their trail the dog could smell only the horse's footprints, instead of theirs. And Mrs. Fox could tell what was happening back there in the road. She knew just exactly as well as if she had been there herself—she knew that the dog had stopped short, and was running all around, with his nose to the ground, trying to find where she and Tommy had gone. But he never found out.
You see, he wasn't half as clever as Mrs. Fox. It never once occurred to him that Tommy and his mother had turned into the road just ahead of that farmer in his sleigh. And finally the stupid dog gave up the chase and went back to Farmer Green's house.
By that time Mrs. Fox and Tommy were safe at home. Yes—they were even having a good laugh over the way they had fooled the dog. And Tommy had quite forgotten how frightened he had been. In fact, he began to feel very well pleased with himself. For he never once remembered that it was his mother, and not himself, who had thought of that trick. He ought to have felt very grateful to his grandmother, for having taught his mother that clever way of cheating a dog out of his dinner. But Tommy Fox was so conceited that if his grandmother had been there with them he would have thought he knew ten times as much as she did. I've no doubt that he would even have tried to teach her to suck eggs—never once stopping to think that she knew all about such things many years before he was born.
Tommy Fox stopped short and listened. It was early spring, and the snow was still deep on the sides of Blue Mountain.
Thump—thump—thump, thump, thump, thump! Rub—rub—rub—rub, r-r-r-r-r-r-r!If you had heard that sound you would have said that there was a boy hidden somewhere on the mountain; and that he was playing a drum. But Tommy Fox knew better than that. He knew that it was Mr. Grouse, calling to Mrs. Grouse. And Tommy knew that he made that noise by beating the air with his strong wings.
Now, Tommy Fox had not eaten a grouse for a long, long time. He had never captured a grouse himself. In fact, he had never even tried, since that time in the summer, when old Mother Grouse had played a trick on him, and led him away from her children.
Tommy made up his mind now that he was old enough and wise enough to capture Mr. Grouse. But he thought he had better wait until night, when Mr. Grouse couldn't see well. Tommy Fox's eyes, you know, were even sharper at night than they were in the daytime.
Well! Tommy Fox went home. And that very night he stole back again to the clump of evergreens where he had heard Mr. Grouse drumming.
It was pretty dark up there on the mountain. But Tommy had no trouble at all in finding his way. And he kept looking up at the thick branches of the evergreens, for he hoped that Mr. Grouse was asleep on a low branch, which he could reach with a good, high jump.
Yes—it was dark. And it was very cold up there on Blue Mountain, for all it was early springtime. And the evergreen trees bowed beneath a burden of snow, which had fallen only the day before.
It was very still in the forest. And when Tommy Fox suddenly heard a cry of"Whoo—whoo—whoo!"he jumped, in spite of himself. Tommy knew, right away, that it was only Mr. Owl. And he felt very sheepish. And then all at once Tommy jumped again. This time he was terribly frightened, for the strangest thing happened. The snow rose right up beneath his feet, and flew in his face. And something struck him a good, hard blow under his chin. Tommy fell over backward in the snow, he was so surprised. And a roar like thunder rang through the forest.
Tommy knew then what had happened. Maybe you have guessed, too. For it was Mr. Grouse himself. He had burrowed his way into the snow, so that he might have a warm blanket to cover him during the night. And Tommy Fox had stepped squarely on top of him.
It was no wonder Mr. Grouse had sprung up in a hurry. He was just as frightened as Tommy himself, because he had been sound asleep, and he had no idea what was the matter.
As for Tommy Fox, it was a huge joke on him. But it was a joke that didn't please Tommy at all. He felt very silly, when it was all over.
It was a pretty big surprise for Tommy Fox, when Mr. Grouse sprang out of the snow, right beneath his feet. But it was nothing at all, compared with the surprise Tommy had when he reached home.
Very late at night Tommy stole into his mother's house. In fact, it was nearly morning. And Tommy crept in very quietly, for he hardly expected that his mother would be awake and he did not want to disturb her.
Tommy had just curled up on his bed and was all ready to go to sleep, when to his great astonishment he heard his mother talking. She was not talking tohim, but to someone near her, for she spoke so low that Tommy could not hear what she was saying.
He thought right away that somebody had come to pay them a visit. And he called out—
"Who's here, Mother? Is it a visitor?"
"Yes, Tommy," Mrs. Fox answered. "Come here and see who it is."
Tommy jumped out of bed and hopped across the room. At first he couldn't see anybody but his mother.
"It's just a joke!" Tommy exclaimed. "You're only fooling!"
"Look sharp!" said Mrs. Fox. "It's a surprise. What do you call this?" She moved aside a bit, and pointed to a little, soft, woolly thing which lay close beside her. Tommy had to look two or three times to see what it was. And even then he wasn't sure.
"Is it—is it—a baby?" he asked.
"That's just what it is," his mother said.
Tommy certainly was surprised. And before he could find his voice again Mrs. Fox showed him another baby fox, and another and another and another.
Yes—there they were—five of them all together, small and soft and woolly. They weren't nearly so brightly colored as Tommy and his mother—just a pale, brownish red. Tommy Fox could hardly believe it. As he stared at them he suddenly noticed something strange about the baby foxes. "Why—they're all blind—every one of them!" he cried. "Hadn't we better send them back and get some good ones?" he asked.
Mrs. Fox laughed.
"Of course they're blind," she said. "You were blind when you were their age. Their eyes will be open in a few days…. Well—what do you think of them, Tommy?" she asked; for Tommy Fox seemed to be lost in thought.
"I was wondering how they would ever be able to hunt—they're so small."
"Oh! I'll have to hunt for them, for a long time," his mother explained. "When they get big enough I shall teach them to hunt for themselves, just as I taught you.
"Now you see why I showed you how to catch mice and rabbits and woodchucks," Mrs. Fox said. "You'll have to look out for yourself now, Tommy. For I shall have all I can do to find enough for myself and five children to eat, without feeding a big fellow like you."
That made Tommy Fox feel very proud. He felt bigger, and stronger, and wiser than ever before.
"I shall get along all right," Tommy said. "I almost caught Mr. Grouse tonight. But he got away." Tommy yawned, for he was very sleepy. And pretty soon he was curled up on his little bed again, dreaming of a wonderful bird that he had caught, which was so big that he and his mother and his five little brothers and sisters made a fine meal off it.
But of course it was only a dream.
To you;—parents, guardians, teachers and all others upon whom devolves the supremely important responsibility of directing the early years of development of childhood, this series of TUCK-ME-IN TALES which sketch such vivid and delightful scenes of the vibrant life of meadow and woodland should have tremendous appeal. In this collection of stories you will find precisely the sort of healthy, imaginative entertainment that is an essential in stimulating thought germs in the child mind.
Merely from the standpoint of their desirability for helping the growing tot to pass an idle half hour, any one of these volumes would be worth your while. But the author had something further than that in mind. He has, with simplicity and grace, worthy of high commendation, sought to convey a two-fold lesson throughout the entire series, the first based upon natural history and the second upon the elementary principles of living which should be made clear to every child at the earliest age of understanding.
The first of these aims he has accomplished by adapting every one of his bird characters to its living counterpart in the realm of biology. The child learns very definite truths about which the story is woven; learns in such a fascinating manner that he will not quickly forget, and is brought into such pleasant intimacy that his immediate sympathy is aroused.
The author accomplishes the purpose of driving home simple lessons on good conduct by attributing the many of the same traits of character to his feathered heroes and heroines that are to be found wherever the human race made its habitation. The praise-worthy qualities of courage, love, unselfishness, truth, industry, and humility are portrayed in the dealings of the field and forest folk and the consequential reward of these virtues is clearly shown; he also reveals the unhappy results of greed, jealousy, trickery and other character weaknesses. The effect is to impress indelibly upon the imagination of the child that certain deeds are their own desirable reward while certain others are much better left undone.
If any further recommendation is necessary, would it not be well to resort to the court of final appeal, the child himself? Simply purchase a trial copy from your bookseller with the understanding that if it meets with the disapproval of the little man or woman for whom it is intended, he will accept its return.
Of course, there is a time when Jolly Robin is only a nestling. Then one day, after he tumbles out of the apple tree and falls squawking and fluttering to the ground, he takes his first lesson in flying. So pleased is Jolly to know that he can actually sail through the air on his wings, that he goes out into the wide, wide world to shift for himself. One day, after advising with Jimmy Rabbit, he decides to become general laugh-maker to the inhabitants of Pleasant Valley, and he becomes one of Mother Nature's happiest little feathered folk, going about trying to make things a bit better in the world.
True, he falls into many blunders and has many strange experiences, but his intentions are always the best, remember. Slyly tucked away in this story of Jolly Robin and of his adventures, is much bird lore and philosophy,—both instructive and entertaining.
Betsy Butterfly is the owner of a pair of such beautifully colored wings and her sweet disposition matches them so perfectly that it is a very common occurrence to hear one of the tiny dwellers in Farmer Green's meadow remark: "Why, the sun just has to smile on her!" Of course, any lady so gifted is bound to have many admirers and Betsy is no exception. But there are a few of her acquaintances who cannot keep from showing their jealousy of her popularity and these try in various unkind ways to make her disliked. The story of how she politely overlooks these rude attempts, in that way causing herself to be all the more thought of, is the best sort of example to any human girl or boy who wishes to know how to be sure of making friends. You will find that Betsy is a great girl for giving parties and perhaps she will give you a few valuable ideas that will be useful sometime when you have a party of your own.
Buster's intentions are all very good, but he is so awkward and stupid that he constantly stumbles into trouble, thereby causing his acquaintances much unnecessary discomfiture and himself no end of embarrassment. He is, furthermore, a terrific boaster, as you will learn when you read of his many declarations of the pummeling he would give the ferocious Robber Fly, if ever he chanced to meet that devouring assassin. What Buster actually does when the unexpected encounter takes place will afford you a good laugh at his expense, and, finally, after you have romped and dallied with him through his many happy excursions you will close the book with a feeling that it has done you good to have known him, lazy and blundering though he is, for he is indeed the best natured fellow, and he is so anxious to buzz into everything that attracts his attention that you find you have learned a great many things you never before dreamed of about the tiny creatures of the fields.
Freddie Firefly is most anxious to lighten the cares of his friends in Pleasant Valley for he is a most unselfish fellow and enjoys nothing more than seeing other people as happy as he. He has one grave fault, however, that prevents him from being a very great help, and that is his inability to remain long in one place. He is so full of spry gaiety that he never can be quite content unless he is dancing with his relatives in the hollow near the swamp or darting about Farmer Green's lawn. His friends often give him advice as to how he may use the wonderful light which he always carries with him, and finally Mrs. Ladybug tells him he should go to the railroad and work as a signalman for the trains. You will hold your breath as you read about the exciting adventure that follows this suggestion, and you will no doubt agree with those to whom he later tells it that he is a very lucky Freddie to escape.
Rusty Wren is another little neighbor in Pleasant Valley. His particular home there is Farmer Green's yard where he lives in a bright shiny home which is really a tin can with a hole in it! And dear me! I forgot all about Rusty Wren's family—his wife and six baby children who had to be given Wren food by Rusty and little Chippy, Jr. You will laugh heartily when you read about Chippy growing so big and fat that he gets stuck in Rusty's tiny doorway and can't get pulled out. My, what an exciting time it was! And you will laugh again when you watch Rusty Wren go way over to the bank of Black Creek all ready for a party when there really is no party. Yes, you will agree with Farmer Green's boy and the rest of our friends in Pleasant Valley that Rusty certainly is a very interesting little neighbor.
Daddy is a person of such unusual appearance with, his eight scrawny legs in contrast to ordinary people's two, and everything about his private life is such a mystery to his neighbors that his acquaintances give him credit for having a marvelous ability to look into the future. In fact, there are many two-legged humans, even today, who think he is a sort of soothsayer and mystery man. Perhaps, if you are one of these, you will be inclined to change your mind after reading about his contest with Old Mr. Crow to see which is really the wiser of the two. And would you not naturally suppose that anybody with so many legs to carry him would be the champion walker of the world? Maybe Daddy finds that it takes time to decide which of his feet he should put forward in taking the next step, or may be each separate foot has a notion of choose; at any rate, he proves to be the slowest traveler imaginable. But he is so popular among his neighbors and you will like him too—he has so many quaint ideas.
Kiddy Katydid and his relatives were in possession of a secret that none of the Pleasant Valley folk can solve, though they waste much time and energy trying to guess it. Even to this day it is doubtful if anyone other than Kiddie himself really knows what Katy did! But his friends are a curious lot and they work their brains over-time to think of some scheme to make Kiddie tell. If you want to know what they do accidentally discover about Kiddie himself and how excited every body becomes as the rare news spreads from mouth to mouth, you will find that and many other remarkable things about him in this interesting story of his life in the Maple tree that grows in Farmer Green's yard. You will like Kiddie. He is very modest and retiring—behaving very much as any well raised youngster should, and when you understand just how it happens that he keeps repeating that funny remark about Katy, you can join him in the hearty laugh he has on his friends.
Mr. Crow has a very solemn look—unless you regard him closely. But it is a very sly, knowing look, if you take pains to stare boldly into his eyes. Like many human beings, he is fond of clothes, and he particularly likes gay ones, but perhaps that is because he is so black himself.
Anyhow, so long as he can wear a bright red coat and a yellow necktie—or a bright red necktie and a yellow coat—he is generally quite happy. One fall Mr. Crow decides to stay in Pleasant Valley during the winter, instead of going South, and he remembers all at once that he will need some warm clothing. Now, Mr. Frog, the tailor, and Jimmy Rabbit, the shoemaker, know just how to talk to Mr. Crow to sell their merchandise, playing upon his vanity to buy the latest, and even to "set the styles," but they have to be pretty keen and sly to get the best of Mr. Crow in the end. Mr. Crow has his good points as well as his bad ones, and he helps Farmer Green a lot more than he injures him it is said. Nevertheless, Farmer Green does not figure that way,—and in justice to old "Jim Crow," you should read of his adventures for yourself.
All the folks down in Pleasant Valley know Solomon Owl. Well, It's this way. If you hear Solomon Owl on a dark night when his "Wha-Wha! Whoo-ah!" sends a chill 'way up your spine, and if you see him you can never forget him, either. He has great, big, staring eyes that make you feel queer when you look at his pale face. No, sir, little folks like Mr. Frog, the tailor, certainly don't like to have any visits from Solomon Owl when Solomon has a fine appetite. To be sure, Farmer Green isn't happy when Solomon steals some of his fine chickens, and neither are the chickens for that matter. But Solomon doesn't have all the fun on some one else. Oh no! Reddy Woodpecker knows how to tease him by tapping with his bill on Solomon's wooden house in the daytime, when every owl likes to sleep and dream of all the nice frogs and fat chickens they are going to feast on the next night, and then, out comes Solomon all blinking with his big, black eyes. But this wise owl, who really isn't as wise as he looks, you know, finds a good way to fool Reddy and the rest of the folks who like to annoy him, and lives his own happy life.
Jasper Jay really is a good sort of a fellow even though he does make a dreadful racket when he is around; but that is his way of talking. He just likes to tease for the fun of teasing and so naturally he gets into lots of scraps and seems bound to get into more. Of course, lots of folks in Pleasant Valley don't like him because he plays tricks and pranks on them and makes them feel all ruffled up. Why, he even thinks he can spoil the Singing Society, but do you know, the Society fools Jasper himself. And that time Jimmy Rabbit teaches Jasper Jay some manners down by the cedar tree—the poor jay stays there until his feet are frozen in the water before he finds out—well—you may discover for yourself what happens next.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Tommy Fox, by Arthur Scott Bailey