Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail, the two little beaver boys, sat on top of the big dam, that kept the water in the pond from flowing all away, as the water does in your gutter on a rainy day, unless you make a pile of mud and sticks to hold it back. Toodle was gnawing a bit of sweet bark from an aspen tree, and Noodle was making a whistle out of a bit of willow wood.
"Well," said Noodle after a while, when he had blown on the whistle, making a noise like a toy choo-choo engine, "is this all we're going to do today, Toodle?"
"Oh, I don't know," answered Toodle as he looked at the stick to see if there was any more eating-bark on it, and, finding there was none, he threw it away. "I don't know," said Toodle again, "what would you like to do to have fun?"
"Let's go away in the woods," spoke Noodle, "and gnaw down some trees with our teeth, the way Grandpa Whackum showed us, and we can build a little cabin and play Indian."
"That would be fun," agreed Toodle, "only suppose a bad bear or an unpleasant wolf should get after us?"
"Then I would just blow on my whistle," said his brother, "and Grandpa Whackum, or maybe papa, or some of the big folks would hear it and come to save us. I say let's go off to the woods," and he blew his whistle quite loudly, so that Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver of them all, who was mending a hole in the dam where the water was running away, Grandpa Whackum, as I say, came running up, banging his broad, flat tail on the ground, and asking:
"What's the matter, boys? Is some one trying to catch you? Are you in a trap?"
"Neither one, thank you kindly, Grandpa Whackum," said Noodle, speaking very politely, as he had been taught to do, "we are in no danger, and I was just blowing on my whistle to show Toodle how I could call for help if we went to the woods."
"I see," spoke the old gentleman beaver. "I heard the whistle, all right, but if you boys go off to the woods I could not get to you as soon as I did this time. So you want to be very careful if you do go."
"We will," promised Noodle. "Come on, Toodle. Let's go have some fun."
So the two little beaver boys jumped down from the big dam, and began swimming toward the woods some distance off. The beavers could swim in the water much better than they could waddle, or walk, on land, even if they did stand up on their hind legs. And they were much safer in the water, but of course they could not stay in it all the while.
On and on swam Noodle and Toodle, and sometimes the little beaver boys would see gold or silver fish in the water around them, and they'd stop for a minute and talk about how warm the pond was, and whether there would be a fishball game that day, and all things like that.
And sometimes Toodle and Noodle would see some little girl beaver friends of theirs playing with their dolls, and their hair ribbons, and their sewing on top of the big beaver houses that stuck up out of the water.
"Well, here we are at the woods," said Noodle, after awhile, and he swam to the bank, and climbed out of the water.
"Yes, we're here," said Noodle, as he climbed out and sat down beside his brother, to dry off a little. Both the little beaver boys sat on their big tails, which were as good as little stools to them, as I have told you in the stories before this one.
"Now for some fun!" cried Toodle, as he turned a somersault and part of a peppersault, while Noodle blew on his whistle, not very loudly, you know, for he did not want to scare Grandpa Whackum and make him come running up, thinking there was danger.
Then the two beaver boys began to play. With their four strong orange-colored teeth they gnawed down small trees, and began to pile them on shore to make a little log cabin. They did not build a regular beaver house, which is almost always made in the water. This time Toodle and Noodle were just playing, and they wanted a cabin on shore.
"Now it's almost done!" exclaimed Toodle, as he went inside and looked out of the window.
"Yes, a few more logs and it will be ready for us to play in," spoke his brother. "Then you can be an Indian part of the time, and I'll be a soldier, and make believe chase and shoot a bang-bang gun at you, and then it will be your turn to be a soldier with a gun, and I'll be an Indian."
And just then, all of a sudden, something fell down out of the air, and came down, cracko-whacko! hitting Toodle on the head as he was looking out of the play-cabin window.
"Wow," cried Toodle. "Did you do that, Noodle?"
"Indeed, I didn't," said his brother. "Can't you see that I'm busy here gnawing down this tree to make the bang-bang gun with? I didn't hit you."
Just then Toodle heard some one laughing, and, looking up, he saw Billie Bushytail, the squirrel boy, sitting on a tree branch right over the log cabin. Billie was eating a hickory nut.
"Excuse me, Toodle," said Billie, the squirrel boy. "I hit you, but I didn't mean to. I was eating a nut and it fell out of my paws and landed on your head. Did it hurt you very much, Toodle?"
"Oh, hardly any," said the little beaver boy. "You see I have a lot of fur on top of my head, Billie, and it bounced right off—the nut did, I mean—not my head."
I guess if the nut had hurt him, Toodle wouldn't have said so. Boys are like that, you know. That's the reason they don't cry, after they get over being babies.
"Come on down and play with us," said Noodle.
"Yes, do," invited Toodle. So Billie, the squirrel boy, scrambled down from the tree, and soon he and the two beaver brothers were playing in the little log cabin.
Oh, such fun as they had! They made up all sorts of games, including the one about Indians and soldiers, and then they played a new game called "Don't bite your Paws when all alone. You try to eat An Ice Cream Cone." That is a very funny game, only you have to have ice cream cones to play it, and it was a lucky thing Uncle Wiggily Longears, the old gentleman rabbit, came along just as Toodle, Noodle and Billie were ready to start it, for he had the ice cream cones with him in his valise, and he gave them to the boy animals to use.
Well, the old rabbit gentleman watched them playing about for some time, and then he hopped off to see his friend, Grandfather Goosey Gander, and Billie, the squirrel, went with him. So that left Toodle and Noodle alone. They played some more, and then Noodle thought he would make himself a little toy boat to go sailing in.
Noodle went off by himself down to the edge of the water where a nice little tree grew, and he was cutting this tree down with his sharp teeth, while Toodle was up in the play-cabin making believe he was a soldier on guard, when all of a sudden something happened.
A great big, old, gray wolf, who hadn't had anything to eat in a long, long time—not since Fourth of July I guess—this bad, old, gray wolf sprang out of the bushes and grabbed Noodle in his paws.
"Now I've got you!" growled the wolf, and really he had. There was no mistake about that. The wolf had poor Noodle!
"Oh, dear," cried the little beaver boy. "Let me go! Oh, please let me go, and I'll give you all the money I have home in my tin bank."
"No! No!" growled the bad old wolf, and he started to take Noodle off to his den. Noodle tried to blow on his willow whistle to call for help, but it was in his pocket where he couldn't reach it. And it looked as if the wolf would take him away.
But have no fear, little ones. I have a plan to save Noodle.
Toodle, up in the cabin, saw what had happened, and he cried:
"I'm coming, Noodle! I'm coming!" Down the hill ran Toodle, and going close up to where the wolf was with his brother, Toodle stood in the water, and with his broad, flat tail, which is just like a pancake-turner, that brave little beaver boy splashed water all over that wolf. In the wolf's eyes and nose and mouth it went, making him sneeze and gasp and choke. Of course Noodle got all wet too, but he didn't mind that a bit. He liked it. And finally the wolf was so soaking wet, and he sneezed and choked so hard, that he had to let go of Noodle, who at once ran away and was safe, for Toodle had saved him, just as I said he would.
"Come on, I guess we'd better go home," said Toodle, and he and Noodle went back to the beaver dam. As for the wolf he had to go to the doctor to get something to make him stop sneezing, and it served him right, I think.
So no more now, if you please, but if the little chicken next door doesn't come in and pick a hole in the baby's red circus balloon so that it bursts, I'll tell you next about Toodle's and Noodle's little sister.
"Well, boys," said Grandpa Whackum, the old gentleman beaver, one morning, as he swam out of the house in the pond and took a seat on his tail, on top of the dam, next to where Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail were sitting; "well, boys, I think you might take a few more swimming lessons today, for after you start going to school I won't find much time to teach you."
"School!" cried Noodle, "are we going to school, grandpa?"
"Of course," said the old gentleman beaver, slowly blinking both his eyes.
"But school for the other animals began some time ago," spoke Toodle. "Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the squirrels, have been going two weeks, and so has Sammie Littletail, the rabbit. I thought we wouldn't have to go."
"Yes," said Grandpa Whackum, "it is true you two boys will start in a little late, but that is because your papa and mamma first wanted you to have some lessons at home in tree cutting, and in house and dam making and things like that. But when you do start to school, say in a week or so, you can easily catch up to the others.
"So, as I said, I'll give you your last swimming lesson now, and then you will always be able to get away from any animals that chase after you in the water."
Now Toodle and Noodle liked the water very much, and they so enjoyed having Grandpa Whackum show them the best way to swim and dive and float, as well as stay under water without breathing for a long time—they liked this so much, I say, that they forgot about soon having to go to school.
My! how they splashed about in the pond, using their hind paws, which were something like a duck's feet. They fairly rushed through the water, and when they wanted to go very specially fast they used their broad, flat tail just like a propeller on a steamboat.
"That's the way to do it!" cried Grandpa Whackum, as he told the beaver boys what to do. "Turn around quickly in the water, and dive down when an alligator or a sea lion chases you," said the old gentleman beaver, showing them how.
So Toodle and Noodle practiced their swimming lesson, and then their grandpa said:
"Now, boys, come up on this old stump and do some diving. Jump right into the water; don't be afraid!"
Grandpa Whackum showed them how to do this, springing off his hind feet and going away down under water where no one could see him until he popped up again.
Toodle and Noodle did this after him, and, though at first they were not very good at it, soon they got so they could dive as nicely as could be.
"Now you are good swimmers," said the old gentleman beaver, "and you may have time to play. But be careful not to go too far away, over to the woods, or the bad wolf may get you."
Toodle and Noodle said they would be careful, and then they began playing tag, and hide your tail, and jump over your chewing gum, and all games like that. Finally they swam away up to one end of the beaver pond, and they were just going to climb out on land, and sit on their tails for a while, until they thought of a new game, or until some of their friends came home from school, when, all of a sudden, something happened.
No, it wasn't a rustling in the bushes, and no bad animal jumped out on them. Goodness knows that takes place often enough, as you well know. But it was something different this time.
Toodle and Noodle heard a gentle little voice somewhere off in the woods, and it kept saying:
"Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear! What shall I do? Who will take care of me? Oh dear!"
"Hark!" cried Noodle. "Did you hear that?"
"Indeed, I did," answered his brother. "Come on, let's go home!" and he started toward the pond.
"Go home!" exclaimed Noodle. "What for? Let's go see what that is."
"No, sir! Never!" cried Toodle. "Why most likely it's a bear or a wolf, making believe cry like that so we'll come closer, and then he can grab us. No, sir! don't you go see what it is at all. Come on home!"
"Oh, don't be a silly!" exclaimed Noodle. "That's some little boy or girl animal in trouble. A wolf or a bear couldn't cry in such a tiny, weeny voice as that. I say let's see what it is."
Toodle listened to the crying voice again. Truly it did sound like some little animal, and not like a bad bear, and finally Toodle said:
"Well, let's go take a look. But be all ready to run in case there's danger. Remember Grandpa Whackum isn't here to help us."
"Oh, I'll be careful," promised Noodle.
Slowly and carefully the two little beaver boys went toward where they heard the voice. It was still crying away like this:
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Will no one come and take care of me? Oh, dear!"
"It's in that old stump over there," said Toodle after a bit of looking about.
"Yes, that's where it is," agreed Noodle. "The stump is hollow and some poor chap is inside it."
So Toodle and Noodle went up to the hollow stump, and they stood up on their tippy-toes, and they looked in, and at first it was so dark they couldn't see anything, and then—and then—all of a sudden—they looked once more, and—what do you think they found?
Why, there was the dearest, sweetest, cutest little baby beaver girl you ever saw! She was all dressed in a long blue-pink-yellow dress, and she had a little bottle of milk in one paw and a rubber rattle-box in the other, but she was crying, this little baby beaver girl was, and she seemed so lonesome and afraid that Toodle and Noodle felt very sorry for her, and loved her at once.
"Oh, look!" cried Toodle. "A baby in a hollow stump!"
"Yes, and maybe we can take her home and keep her for our little sister," said Noodle. "Oh, joy!"
"Oh, dear!" said the little baby beaver.
"What's the matter?" asked Noodle.
"Oh, I'm left all alone," said the baby. "I was out in the woods with my papa and mamma, and a bear and a wolf chased us. My papa and mamma ran as fast as they could, but the bear and wolf kept after them, and finally they got so close that my papa and mamma couldn't get away. Then my mamma hid me in this stump, hoping, I guess, that some one would find me, and then she and papa ran on and—and——"
But the little baby beaver cried so hard that she couldn't talk. Toodle and Noodle felt the tears coming into their eyes also, but Toodle asked, very, very softly:
"What happened after that, baby?"
"The—the bear and wolf carried my papa and mamma away to their dens," said the baby beaver, "and—and I'm left all alone. Nobody loves me! Oh, dear!"
"Don't cry any more!" said Toodle, and with his handkerchief he wiped the eyes of the baby beaver. "We love you, and we'll take care of you, won't we, Noodle?"
"Indeed we will!" exclaimed the other beaver boy. "We'll take you home with us, and you can be our little sister."
"Will you really?" asked the baby, who was old enough to talk, you see, and she could walk a little. "That will be lovely!" she said, and she stopped crying.
So Toodle and Noodle helped her out of the hollow stump, and then they made a little boat out of a piece of tree which they gnawed down, and they rowed the baby beaver across the pond to their house. And Mrs. Flat-tail said her boys did just right to bring the poor little thing home; and she took her for her very own baby and for a sister to Noodle and Toodle.
They named her Crackie, for she used to drop the dishes and cups and crack them. But no one minded that very much, for they loved Crackie so. And one day a wolf chased her and she threw an ice cream cone at him and cracked that, but it scared the wolf so that he ran away, which was what Crackie wanted.
So that's how Toodle and Noodle got a little sister, whom they loved very much, and some day Grandpa Whackum said he might find that bad wolf and bear and make them let Crackie's papa and mamma go. But lots of things happened before that.
And in the next story, if the cocoanut pie doesn't roll off the table and break the cream pitcher's leg, I'll tell you tomorrow night about Toodle and Noodle sliding down hill.
Once upon a time Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail, the little beaver boys, went sliding down hill when there wasn't any snow on the ground, and a very strange thing happened to them. I'm going to tell you all about it, if you'd like to hear it. So, if you will kindly not wiggle too much, and not call the dog over here to rub his wet tail on my newly polished shoes and take all the shine off so I can't go to the party, I'll tell you all about it.
It began this way. Toodle said to Noodle, his brother, one day:
"Let's have some fun."
"All right," said Noodle to Toodle, "we will. What shall we do?"
"Let's go out on the dam and look around," said Toodle. "Maybe we'll see something there."
The dam, you know, was the big wall of sticks and stones, and grass and mud, that held the water of the beaver pond from running away and leaving all the beaver houses on dry land. Because the beaver animals, you know, like to have their houses in water.
"Shall we take Crackie with us?" asked Noodle. Crackie, you remember, was the new little baby sister of the beaver boys. They had found her in a hollow stump. "Shall we take Crackie?" asked Noodle.
"Why, yes, I guess so," answered Toodle. "She'd like to come and have some fun."
So they swam back to the beaver house, dived down under water where the front door was (so no bad animals could get in without at least getting wet) and then Noodle called:
"Hi there, Crackie! Want to come with us?"
"Of course I do," answered Crackie, and then something sounded "Bango!"
"My goodness! What is that?" cried Mrs. Flat-tail, mother of the beaver children. "What did you break that time, Crackie?"
"Only the looking glass. Oh, dear!" answered the little baby beaver. "It's all cracked to pieces."
"Oh, Crackie!" cried Toodle, sadly like.
That's the reason her name was "Crackie," as I told you in the story before this one. The poor little girl did not mean to do it, but she was always cracking or breaking something. Some people are like that; aren't they?
"I—I was just looking in the glass to see if my hair ribbon was on straight," said Crackie, "when the mirror just fell out of my claws and broke!"
Crackie was getting to be quite a girl, you see, to have hair ribbons and all things like that. Oh, beaver children grow very fast, you know. They are something like mushrooms that spring up over night.
"Well, never mind, Crackie, my dear," said Mrs. Flat-tail. "You couldn't help it, I know. You didn't do it on purpose. Run along out with the boys and play."
"Yes, come on, Crackie!" cried Toodle. "We're going to have some fun!"
Say, I guess, I'd better begin telling about that sliding down hill without any snow on the ground pretty soon, had I not? or else I'll get to the end of this story without putting it in.
Well, anyhow, as the telephone girl says sometimes, Toodle and Noodle and Crackie, the three beaver children, swam out of the house in the pond and began looking for something so that they might have a good time.
They looked over toward where Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver of them all, was showing another beaver gentleman, who had just gone to housekeeping, how to stop a leak in his roof. And the animal children saw their grandpa climb up on the roof with some plastermud in his paws to fix the hole, and then, when he had used up the plaster, they saw him slide down the roof for more, going splash! into the water.
"Say, that's what we can do to have some fun!" exclaimed Toodle.
"Do what?" asked Noodle.
"Slide down hill," answered Toodle.
"How can we slide down hill when there isn't any snow," asked Crackie, who was a very smart little beaver baby girl.
"I'll show you," said Toodle. "You know mud is very slippery, and the roofs of lots of our houses are made of mud. Grandpa Whackum just slid down one, sitting on his flat tail, and we can do the same."
"That's right," cried Noodle. "We'll find an old house, where no one lives any more, and we'll wet the roof by splashing water on it, and then we'll take turns sliding down into the pond. That will be jolly fun!"
Toodle thought so, too, and so did Crackie. She swam along with her brothers, carrying her rubber doll in one paw. The rubber doll didn't mind being wet, you know.
Well, finally the beaver children found a big house, that was rounding on top just like a hill, and no one lived in it. The roof was covered with dried mud, but with their tails Toodle and Noodle and Crackie soon splashed water on it and made it as slippery as the most slippy-ippy hill covered with snow or ice that you ever saw. For you know how sluppy-slippy wet mud is if you have ever fallen down in it when you were going to school. Or maybe your rubber has stuck in the slippery-sticky mud and come off. Mine did once, and I dropped my ice cream cone in a puddle of water, and the worst of it was I didn't have any more money to get another, either.
Well, finally the rounding, hilly top part of the roof of the beaver house was all wet and slippery mud, and Toodle and Noodle began to slide down it. They wanted to try it first before they let their little sister Crackie go on it, to be sure it was safe for her.
And it was all right, I'm glad to say, and when the beaver boys sat on their tails and gave themselves a little push away they went down the muddy hill, without any snow on it, almost as fast as a choo-choo train, or maybe even an automobile, for all I know. Think of that!
"Now may I try it?" asked Crackie.
"Yes, come along," said Toodle.
"We'll give you a good push!" said Noodle.
Crackie let her rubber doll swim in the water while she climbed up on top of the house-hill and got ready to slide down into the water. It was like shooting the chutes at Coney Island, you know.
"Splish-splash!" went Crackie into the water, and she laughed and shouted, it was such fun.
"She slides as well as we do, Noodle," said Toodle.
"Indeed she does!" said Noodle to Toodle.
Then the beaver children took more turns sliding down the muddy hill. Sometimes they slid separately, and often all three of them would go down together. Then Toodle got a long piece of birch bark for a sled, and they all sat on that, holding their tails up in the air, and down they went, whizzing along until they hit the water with a splash.
Oh, it was great fun!
Then, all of a sudden, when Toodle and Noodle had gone sliding down together, leaving Crackie standing alone on the top of the muddy hill, to come down after them, all of a sudden, up out of the water came the bad old skillery-scalery alligator, and before Toodle or Noodle knew what was happening the savage creature, with the double-jointed tail, had grabbed them both in his paws.
"Oh, let us go! Let us go!" cried Toodle.
"Yes, please let us go!" begged Noodle, and he tried to make his tail go "whack!" on the water, the way his grandpa had taught him to do to call for help. But the alligator held him too tightly, and Noodle couldn't move even his nose.
"Oh, will no one help us?" shouted Toodle.
"No, there is no one here to help you," barked the alligator, just like a dog. "I am going to take you off to my den!"
"Oh, ho! No, you're not!" cried little Crackie, up on top of the mud-hill, and with that she came sliding down so fast that she suddenly hit that alligator right on the end of his nose, and that made tears come into his eyes, and whenever that happens to a skillery-scalery alligator he has to go right away to the dentist. It was that way with this one, and, as soon as Crackie bumped him, he dropped Toodle and Noodle, letting them go, and away the bad creature swam to have a tooth pulled out, which served him right, I think.
So that's how Crackie saved Toodle and Noodle by sliding down the mud-hill and bumping the alligator. Then the beaver children had a lot more fun in the water and the alligator didn't bother them any more that day. And in the story after this, if the merry-go-round doesn't dance a jig on the roof, and wake up the little mouse in the pantry, I'll tell you about Toodle and Noodle going to school.
"Hark! What's that?" cried Toodle Flat-tail, the little beaver boy, as he rolled over in his bed of clean, white pine-splinters one morning. "Did you hear that, Noodle?"
"Indeed I did," answered the other beaver boy. "Listen, Toodle."
They both listened, and they heard a bell ringing off in the distance:
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"
"Fire!" cried Noodle. "It's a fire. Let's get up and—"
"Fire! That's no fire!" said Toodle. "That's the school bell that's ringing, and we have to go to school today, Noodle, my boy. Don't you remember what Grandpa Whackum said to us?"
"Indeed I do," answered Noodle. "So this is the day we have to start school? I wonder if our little sister Crackie is coming?"
"I don't believe she is old enough," answered Toodle. "It would be fun if she could, though. But did you hear anything else besides the bell, Noodle?"
Then both the little beaver boys listened again, just as the telephone girl does when you talk to her, and they heard some one calling:
"Hi there, Noodle! Hi there, Toodle! Time to get up! You have to go to school today." It was their papa.
"All right!" called the two beaver boys very politely, as all animal children do. "We're coming."
Quickly they washed their faces and paws in the water of the beaver pond, and then they were ready for breakfast. They had water-lily pancakes with birch bark syrup on, and winter-green muffins with maple sugar, and their mamma, Mrs. Flat-tail, also put them up a nice lunch of watercress bread with willow bark jam in between the slices.
"I wish I could go to school," said Crackie, the little beaver girl baby, whom the two boys had found in a hollow stump one day. "I'd like to go and learn how to make mud pies."
"Some day you may, my dear," said Mrs. Flat-tail, as she hurried about the kitchen, making some nice warm ginger-root soup for Grandpa Whackum.
So Toodle and Noodle started for school. They were a little bit behind the other animal children, for the school had opened a week or so before this, but then the beaver boys had to practice their swimming, and gnawing and other lessons, which is what kept them home.
But now they were going to school, and as they waddled along, wondering what sort of lessons they would have to recite, they met a number of their friends. Bully No-tail, the frog, was hopping on the path by the water, and Jimmie Wibblewobble, the boy duck, was swimming in the water, as were Toodle and Noodle. Overhead, also on his way to school, was Dickie Chipchip, the sparrow boy.
The school where Toodle and Noodle went was in an old boat that floated around the beaver pond, just like the grocery store that one of the animals kept. And the school-boat, not being tied fast anywhere, was never in the same place any two mornings. Sometimes it would be here, and sometimes it would be there.
And on that account the animal children were often late. They would start for the boat-school at the place where it had been the day before. But in the night the wind might have blown it far off, so by the time they found it the animals would be late for their lessons. But the old gentleman teacher, Mr. Water Rat, did not mind that much, and he never kept any of the children in for being late. Sometimes Woodie and Waddie Chuck, the groundhog boys, would be so late that they only got to school just as it was letting out for the day. That was jolly.
So, as I said, Toodle and Noodle started for school. On the way they had lots of fun with their animal friends, and once, when Sammie Littletail, the rabbit boy, was chasing Toodle, the beaver boy jumped into the water and swam a long way, so Sammie couldn't tag him.
But the school bell kept ringing and ringing, and finally Toodle and Noodle were at the old floating boat where they were to study their lessons. It had not drifted very far in the night, so no one was late this morning.
"Now, children, attention!" said old Mr. Water Rat, who kept the school. "We will first have a lesson in arithmetic, or number work.
"Toodle Flat-tail, you may tell me this. If you had a pear and your brother, Noodle, had two apples, how many would there be altogether?"
"Do you mean if we were very hungry?" asked Toodle, slowly like.
"Why, what has that to do with it?" asked the school teacher rat. "Two apples and one pear are always the same, whether you are hungry or not."
"Oh, no," said Toodle, as politely as he knew how. "For if Noodle and I were hungry there wouldn't be any left no matter how many pears or apples there were at first. We would eat them up, you see, teacher."
"I see," said the teacher. "That is very good. You may go up head, Toodle." So that is how Toodle got up to the head of his class the first day in school. Wasn't that good?
Well, then, the teacher asked Noodle a question. Said Professor Water Rat:
"If you had five pennies, and your mamma should give you ten pennies more, how many pennies would you have?"
"Not any," said Noodle, as politely as he knew how.
"Why not?" asked the teacher. "Do not five pennies and ten pennies make fifteen pennies?"
"Maybe," said Noodle; "but, please sir, if I had fifteen pennies I'd buy three ice cream cones—one for Toodle and one for my sister Crackie, and one for myself, so I would not have any pennies, you see."
"Very good," said the professor rat. "You may also go up head, Noodle." So Noodle did, and he and Toodle sat in the same seat. They were quite proud, too, at getting up head their first day in school. Not too proud, you know, but just proud enough.
Well, all of a sudden, as the animal children were studying away very quietly, a voice called:
"I want Toodle! I want Noodle!"
Everybody looked up surprised like. The two beaver boys were sort of scared, too.
"Oh, dear!" cried Noodle, and he looked for a window so he could jump out into the pond and swim away.
"It's a bear after us!" cried Toodle, jumping up.
The professor rat teacher got out his ruler to fight the bear, if he should come in, but instead, there walked into the school only little Crackie, the baby beaver girl. She had her rubber doll with her.
"I want Toodle and Noodle!" said Crackie. "I'm tired of staying home and playing all alone. Please teacher, can't you let them out of school and amuse me?"
Well, you should have heard the animal children laugh at that! The idea of a little girl beaver coming to get her brothers out of school to play with her! Did you ever hear of anything like that? I guess not!
Even Professor Rat had to laugh, and there was so much fun that no one could study.
"Can't Toodle and Noodle come home with me?" asked Crackie again.
"Well, pretty soon," said the teacher. "You just sit down here, Crackie, and make some pictures on the blackboard."
So Crackie came to school also, you see, though it was not intended, and pretty soon, when school was nearly out a bad old fox stuck his nose in the window, looking to see if he could grab Lulu Wibblewobble, the duck girl. But Crackie Flat-tail threw a piece of chalk at him, and the fox was glad to run off and not come back any more that week, fearing he was going to get a bad chalk-mark, you see.
So that's how Crackie did good by going to school to get her brothers. And when lessons were done she went out with them and had a good time. And on the next page, if the door knob doesn't turn over in its sleep and roll out of the window, I'll tell you about Crackie breaking her doll.
I may as well tell you at the very beginning, for you would find it out sooner or later anyhow, I suppose, so I may as well tell you at the beginning, that this is partly a story for girls, and partly a story for boys. The girl part is about the doll, and the boy part is about breaking it, and after that—
Well, I guess I had better tell you the story, and let you see for yourselves what happened afterward.
The reason this story is to be both for girls and boys is because my little girl asked me to write a story with a doll in it. I said I would.
And right after that my little boy, who heard her, said:
"And please put a scary part in it for me."
You see boys like the scary part. So that's why this is a sort of double-jointed story—one part for girls and the other for boys.
Now that I have explained it I will begin.
One day Toodle Flat-tail, the little beaver boy, hurried home from school with his brother Noodle, and said:
"I know what let's do! We'll get in our play-boat, and go off on a voyage. Maybe we'll find an island where oranges and bananas and cocoanuts grow, and we can play we're shipwrecked, and pirates and all like that."
"All right—let's," agreed Noodle. "Shall we take our sister Crackie along?"
"No, not this time," said Toodle. "She might be afraid if we played pirates, or anything like that. Besides, she is having a good time with her doll. We'll leave her home."
And, truly, Crackie, who was the baby beaver girl, who was always dropping things, and breaking or cracking them (without the least in the world meaning to), Crackie, I say, was playing with her doll. It was a new wooden doll, made from a part of a birch tree that Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver of them all, had gnawed down for the little girl. Crackie's rubber doll was asleep under the refrigerator, where she would be nice and cool.
So Toodle and Noodle started off in their play-boat which was a log hollowed out so they could sit in it. They used their tails for sails.
Now those beaver boys could swim much faster and better than any boat you ever saw, and that's why it is so queer that they wanted to go off in a hollowed-out log. But they did. Why, do you know, I have seen real boys who would rather get on an old raft made of boards, and paddle around in a mud puddle, getting all wet—they would rather do that almost any day than go to school, or have their hair cut or a tooth pulled. Isn't that odd?
Well, anyhow, as the peanut man sometimes says, Toodle and Noodle sailed off and Crackie stayed home and played with her doll. She made a new dress for it out of part of a clothespin and a lead pencil. And she made a hat out of a strawberry box, trimming it with shavings. That's what it is to have a wooden doll, you see.
And now, for a minute or so, I'll tell you what happened to Noodle and Toodle. This is where the scary part comes in, so cuddle down in papa's or mamma's lap if you like, though it isn't going to be so very scary.
The two little beaver boys sailed on and on in their play-boat and pretty soon they were nearly across the big beaver pond. And then they saw an island. It had some trees growing on it, and it looked to be a good place to pretend being shipwrecked, and pirates, and all like that, and Toodle called to Noodle:
"Let's land there, my brave old salt!" He said that, making believe he was a sailor, you understand.
"Ha! We will land there, messmate!" replied Noodle to Toodle, also making believe he was a sailor.
So they steered their boat toward the island and landed there. There were no orange trees, I am sorry to say, and no cocoanut ones, though I suppose I could just as well as not have written about them growing there. Perhaps next time I will. But, anyhow, as the hand organ man says occasionally, Toodle and Noodle saw a hickory nut tree there, and the two beaver boys thought they would get some of the nuts.
"We can eat some," said Toodle.
"And with the others we can play marbles," said Noodle.
With that they began to gnaw down the tree, for that to them, was easier than climbing up, as Billie or Johnnie Bushytail, the squirrel brothers, would have done.
Well, Toodle and Noodle had the tree almost gnawed down, and they were thinking how good the nuts would taste, when, all of a sudden, the bad wolf, who owned the island and the trees, and all on it, came along, and he growled:
"Ah, ha! This is the time I have those beaver boys! Taking my trees, eh? Just for that I'll take them both off to jail and bite them on each of their ears. Wow!"
Wasn't he the bad old wolf, though?
So before Toodle or Noodle could run away, for they were not very quick on their feet on land, as I have told you, before they could get away the wolf had them both. He held Toodle in one paw and Noodle in the other, and he just glared at them, worse than a rag doll stares at the ceiling when she's asleep.
"Oh, please let us go!" begged Noodle. "I'll give you an ice cream cone if you do."
"Yes, and I'll give you two," said Toodle.
"No, sir-ee sir!" exclaimed the wolf, just as the coal man sometimes speaks before he brings in the ice. "I am going to take you off to jail," and away the wolf started with Toodle and Noodle.
Now, just about this time Crackie, the little girl beaver, had her wooden doll all dressed, and she thought she would start out to find her brothers. She asked some other boy and girl beavers, who were out playing after school, which way Toodle and Noodle had gone in their play-boat, and in this way Crackie started toward the make-believe shipwreck island. But she did not go in a boat—she swam, and carried her doll on her back so as not to wet her strawberry-box bonnet.
Crackie easily found the island, for she was a very smart little beaver girl, but at first she could not see her brothers. Then Crackie saw where the two boy beavers had started to gnaw down the hickory nut tree, and next she saw the tracks of the wolf, and she guessed what had happened.
"Oh, the bad wolf has my brothers!" said Crackie. "I am going to try to save them!"
So, without stopping to think that she, a little beaver girl, could not do much against a bad wolf, Crackie started out. And she had not gone very far before she came up behind a blackberry bush, on which strawberries happened to be growing, and on the other side of that bush sat the wolf, holding Toodle in one paw and Noodle in the other. The wolf had become tired and had stopped to rest.
"You boys are a regular nuisance," growled the wolf. "I wish I had you in jail now."
"Pray, do not take us if it is too much trouble," said Noodle, politely, hoping he and his brother would be let go.
"Oh, I'll take you to jail just the same," said the bad old wolf, "only I'll bite your ears now instead of after I get you there. It may be so dark when I get you to the jail that I can't see to do it."
Then Toodle and Noodle felt very badly at having started to gnaw down the hickory trees but they had not meant to do wrong, and if they had known the island belonged to the wolf they'd never have gone there at all.
"Well, I guess I'll bite your ears," said the wolf, and he opened his wide mouth. And, just as he did so, brave Crackie reached around from behind the strawberry-lemon pie bush, and right between the wolf's opened teeth she stuck her wooden doll, and when the wolf closed down his jaws he bit on the wooden doll, instead of on Noodle's ear, and the doll broke in two.
So that's how Crackie spoiled her doll.
"Wow! Double wow and some pepper hash!" cried the wolf, as surprised as anything at having bitten on a wooden doll when he didn't mean to. "This is terrible!" And with that the wolf dropped Noodle and Toodle and ran off to have his dentist make him a new set of teeth, as he had broken his. So the two beaver boys were safe, you see.
Of course they were very thankful to Crackie for saving them, and they felt sorry about her broken doll. But the doll was easily fixed when Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, came along with some paste, so Crackie's pet was soon as good as ever.
Then she went home with Noodle and Toodle to have her supper and get to bed. And in the next story, if the lady's hatpin doesn't stick in the automobile tire and let all the juice run out, like an orange shortcake at a picnic, I'll tell you about Toodle and Noodle playing Indian.
One day Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver gentleman of them all, came in from where he had been looking at the dam which held the water in the pond from running out. Grandpa Whackum, who was called that, you remember, because he used to whack his tail on the ground, to warn his friends of danger—Grandpa Whackum brought with him to the beaver house where Toodle and Noodle and Crackie Flat-tail lived, some long, slender pieces of wood he had picked up.
They were left over after a hole in the dam had been mended, and the hole was made by the bad skillery-scalery alligator sticking in his double-jointed tail.
"There, boys," said Grandpa Whackum to Toodle and Noodle as he tossed them the sticks, "there is something you can make bows and arrows of."
"Oh, goodie!" cried Noodle.
"And we can play Indian!" said Toodle. "That will be fun; eh, Noodle?"
"Sure," said Noodle.
"May I play?" asked Crackie, who was making a sawdust dress for her wooden doll, the same one the wolf bit in two and Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, mended, you remember.
"Pooh! Girls can't play Indian!" said Noodle. "You could be a Red-Cross nurse if you wanted to, though, and take care of us when we get shot."
"I don't want to do that," said the little beaver girl. "I want to be a real Indian myself and play with you."
"Oh, girls can't be Indians," said Toodle, and with that he and his brother, thinking no more of Crackie, began to make their bows and arrows.
To make a bow you take a stick and bend it. Then you make it fast, so it can't uncurve, by tying the two ends with a long string. That makes the string tight, and when you put an arrow on the string and stretch it and let it go suddenly, the arrow shoots a long way off.
But you must be very careful not to have sharp arrows, and not to aim them at any one—ever! Shoot at the fence. The fence doesn't mind it.
Soon Toodle and Noodle had their bows and arrows all made and they started off to find a good place to play Indian.
"We won't go to the wolf's island this time," said Toodle.
"No, indeed," agreed Noodle. "It's too dangerous. If we go anywhere let's go to a butterfly's island. A butterfly won't hurt us, even if we should gnaw down his peach tree."
So off they started in their play-boat, leaving Crackie at home as before, playing with her mended wooden doll. And the rubber doll was asleep in the bathtub, for she was very fond of soap and water. Not to eat, of course, but to float around in.
Well, Noodle and Toodle sailed on and on in their boats, hoisting their tails for sails, and soon they came to a new little island. They were sure this did not belong to the wolf, and so they decided to land on it and play Indian.
Out of the boat they got, and soon they were having a good time on the island, where a huckleberry bush grew with oranges dangling from the branches. I know that seems queer, but it was so in those days. Of course things have changed since then, and I don't suppose there are now any huckleberry bushes with oranges on, or even lemons, for that matter, but I am telling you this exactly as it happened.
Toodle and Noodle ate a few oranges and then they began to play. They took some poles and made themselves a wigwam, which is what an Indian calls a house. It has a hole in the roof for the smoke to go out, and it looks like a lot of bean poles stacked up in the garden after summer is over.
Toodle and Noodle were playing away at a great rate in their Indian wigwam, shooting arrows at other make-believe Indians in the bushes, sometimes hitting and knocking down an orange or two. And whenever they did this they would stop and eat the oranges. In this way their faces and paws got quite yellow. But the boy beavers did not mind that.
"It only makes us look more like Indians," said Noodle.
"To be sure," agreed his brother.
"Now," said Noodle after a bit, "let's both shoot our arrows at once at that big black stump over there. We'll make believe it's a bear."
Whizz went the two arrows. And then—
"Yow! Wow! Growl! Howl! Scowl!" some one yelled, and the stump rose up on its hind legs and came rushing at Toodle and Noodle. You see it wasn't a stump at all—it was really a bear.
"Oh, dear!" yelled Noodle dropping his bow and arrows. "Come on, Toodle!"
"Yes, let's jump in the water, and then the bear can't catch us!" said Toodle. For you know beavers are very swift in the water, and few animals can swim as rapidly as they.
But alas! Likewise alack-a-day! Before Toodle and Noodle could get to the water the bear had grabbed them in his hairy paws and hugged them. He didn't hug them because he loved them. Oh, no! But because he thought he was going to have a good dinner.
"Oh, yum! Yum!" growled the bear, smiling so that he showed his red tongue and white teeth. "I can see where my dinner is," said the bear.
Toodle looked around, but he could see nothing good to eat. He said so to Noodle.
"I—I guess he means—us!" exclaimed Noodle, sadly like.
"Oh, dear!" cried Toodle. "Now we are in trouble! I guess we had better not come to any islands after this."
"I'll fix you for shooting your Indian arrows at me!" growled the bear.
"We—we thought you were a stump!" said Noodle.
"Worse and worse! Calling me a stump!" cried the bear. "Now I shall certainly frizzle you in buttermilk for my lunch."
Then the bear picked up Toodle in one paw, and Noodle in the other, and off he started with them.
"Where are you taking us, if you please?" asked Noodle, politely. His mamma had taught him to be polite, even to a bear.
"I am going to take you to my den," said the bear. "Then my wife will cook my lunch for me."
So the bear took the two little beaver boys to his den, and as his wife was not at home just then, having gone down to the five and ten cent store to buy a new pair of slippers, the bear said:
"I'll just tie you two chaps to a tree until my wife gets back!"
So what did that bear do but take some strong telegraph wire and wind it around Toodle and Noodle, making them fast to a tree.
"I suppose I could tie you fast with a piece of grapevine," said the bear, "but I know you have sharp teeth, and could soon gnaw yourselves loose. But you can't bite through wire."
And Toodle and Noodle knew with sorrow that they could not, and the bear knew he could go to sleep and safely leave them tied up, which is just what he did.
Down on the ground in front of his den lay the bear, and soon he was sound asleep and snoring. Toodle and Noodle tried to break loose, but the wire was too strong.
"I—I guess this is the end of us," said Noodle sadly. "We are gone!" Toodle thought so, too, and I don't know what would have happened if Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, the kind muskrat lady, had not happened to come swimming along. She had been to market to get Uncle Wiggily something for breakfast.
As soon as Nurse Jane saw poor Noodle and Toodle tied up there she came softly out on the island, without waking the bear, and then with her tail, which is just like a rat-tail file you know, Nurse Jane easily cut and filed through that telegraph wire in a jiffy, which is very quickly indeed, and soon Toodle and Noodle were all loose, the cut ends of the wire being bent back.
"Quick now!" whispered Nurse Jane. "Let's get away before the bear wakes up, or his wife comes back!" And they did, the beaver boys and the muskrat lady swimming off under water.
So Toodle and Noodle got safely away, thanks to Nurse Jane and her file-tail, and when that bear woke up, and found his dinner all gone he was mad as hops—and there is nothing madder than them. But it served him right, I think, for being so mean, don't you?
And now we have come to the end of this story, and I guess you are glad of it. But on the page after this, if my new hat blows up on top of the flag pole, so the monkey can put his peanuts in it, I'll tell you about Noodle Flat-tail's long swim.
"Come on, Noodle!" called Toodle Flat-tail, the little beaver boy, to his brother one morning as he slid down off the roof of the house in the pond and slipped into the water with a splash. "Come on or you'll be late for school."
"Oh, it's early yet," said Noodle. "We've got lots of time. I just want to finish making this little canoe out of birch bark. Maybe then we can paddle to school."
"Swimming is good enough for me," said Toodle, as he took a little ball of soft mud up on the end of his flat tail and threw it at his sister Crackie. It hit her on the back, but was so soft that it did not hurt her.
Toodle wouldn't have hurt his little sister Crackie for anything—not if you were to give him two ice cream cones and part of another one.
Crackie only laughed, and then she turned a peppersault into the water to wash off the mud. Beaver children, you know, play in the mud and water a good deal of the time, and how they love it! Why, you should see them make mud pies, with white stones for raisins. Some day I'll tell you about that.
"Well, are you coming?" called Toodle to Noodle, as he started to swim to school. "You'd better, Noodle, or you'll be late. The first bell has rung."
"Oh, I've got time enough," spoke the other little beaver boy. "I just want to see if my birch bark boat will sail."
"Well, I'm going, anyway," said Toodle, and away he started.
"I wish I could go to school," spoke Crackie, sort of sadly like. "I don't like to stay home alone when you boys go away to your lessons."
"Never mind," whispered Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver of them all. "Some day, Crackie, you shall go to school, and you'll learn as much as Toodle and Noodle," and then the old gentleman animal gave Crackie a whole ice cream cone for herself, and she let it fall on a stone and broke it. That's why she was called Crackie—she was always dropping things and cracking or breaking them.
But it didn't hurt the ice cream cone much, for only the sharp point was cracked off, and the little beaver girl didn't like that part, anyhow. None of the ice cream was spilled, I'm glad to say.
So Toodle started off to school, and as he swam away he looked back and called to his brother: "You'll be late, Noodle."
"Oh, I guess not," answered Noodle. "I'm coming right along now."
Well, Noodle finished making his birch bark boat, and it sailed very nicely, but there was not enough wind for the beaver boy to sail to school in it, so he thought he had better swim. He was just starting off, having said good-by to his sister Crackie, and he was wondering if he knew his spelling lesson, when Mrs. Flat-tail, the beaver lady, called out:
"Oh, I say, Noodle, do you think you'd have time to swim over to Mrs. Wibblewobble's, the duck lady, and borrow a cupful of salt for me? I want to make a sweet-grass pudding and I need a little salt for it."
"Of course, I'll go, mamma," said Noodle. "I have time enough, for I'll swim very fast. But I thought you put sugar in pudding, instead of salt."
"Oh, this is a new kind," said Mrs. Flat-tail. "I'll give you some of the pudding for supper."
So Noodle started to swim over to Mrs. Wibblewobble's house. He found the duck lady busy in her kitchen, and she got the salt for him, putting it in a cup so that it would not spill.
"You had better hurry," said Mrs. Wibblewobble to Noodle. "My boy Jimmie started for school some time ago."
"Oh, I'll hurry as soon as I go home with this salt," spoke Noodle.
So off the little beaver boy swam once more, but he had not gone very far before he looked around behind him, and he saw something coming after him in the water. He could not see exactly who it was—just a sort of little flurry in the beaver pond, and Noodle said:
"Perhaps this is Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy or some of my friends. I'll wait and see."
So he swam slowly, and the creature in the water swam faster toward him, and then, all of a sudden, Noodle saw that it was no friend of his at all, but the bad old skillery-scalery alligator, who was swimming down under water so Noodle couldn't see him so plainly. But the alligator happened to stick his nose up for a second, to try and bite a fly, and then it was that the little beaver boy knew who the bad creature was.
"Mercy me!" cried Noodle. "That alligator is after me! And he looks hungry, too. I've got to swim with all my might to get away from him. Oh, dear!"
Then Noodle began his long swim to get away from the bad old alligator. Beavers can swim very fast, you know, on top of water, or under it, though when they swim under water they have to come up to breathe every once in a while. And alligators can swim fast, too.
So there was a race between Noodle and the 'gator. The little beaver boy swam on top of the water for a while, and then he would dive down underneath. And he held his spelling book, which had a rubber cover, so it wouldn't get wet, on top of the cup of salt so no water would get in that.
"Oh, if I can only get home before the alligator grabs me I'll be all right," said Noodle.
On and on swam Noodle, but home seemed far off. Sometimes the beaver boy would dive down suddenly, and swim under water. Then, for a little while, the alligator would not know what had become of Noodle. But soon the bad creature, with his long nose, would smell Noodle in the water and take after him again.
Noodle swam this way and that, hoping he could fool the 'gator, but he couldn't seem to, and Noodle was getting tired, for he had swum a long way. It was farther to Mrs. Wibblewobble's house, and back again, than he had thought.
All at once the 'gator made a big spring, giving a jump through the water. He grabbed Noodle.
"Ah, ha!" the bad creature cried. "Now I have you! You gave me a long chase but I have you!"
Poor Noodle didn't know what to do. There he was caught; and he couldn't go to school any more, and he could not go home to give his mamma the cup of salt and—
"Ha!" thought Noodle suddenly. "The salt! Maybe if I throw it in the 'gator's eyes it will make him sneeze, and he will let me go!"
No sooner said than done. Just as the 'gator was opening his mouth to show Noodle his sharp teeth and red tongue, the little beaver boy quickly tossed the cup of salt right into the eyes and nose and mouth of Mr. Alligator.
"A-ker-choo! Foo-do-do! Ker-snoo-ker-choo!" sneezed the 'gator, and he was so excited that he let go of Noodle to reach for his own pocket handkerchief. That was just what the little beaver boy wanted, and a second later he had dived down and swum away.
And the alligator couldn't get Noodle again, either, for he couldn't see with all that salt in his eyes, so Noodle swam safely back to his beaver house again.
He had lost the salt, of course, but Mrs. Flat-tail said that was all right, as she would go herself and borrow some more of Mrs. Littletail, the rabbit lady.
"And you had better hurry on to school, and don't let any more alligators chase you," said Noodle's mamma to him.
"I won't," he answered, and on he went to school, safely and he didn't miss a single lesson. I'm glad to say, getting there just as the last bell rang, so he wasn't even late.
And on the next page, if a little girl named Elizabeth doesn't turn my typewriter upside down to take the ribbon off it for her lollypop doll, I'll tell you about Toodle Flat-tail's fire engine.
One day, in school where Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail, the beaver boys, went to learn their lessons, Sammie Littletail, the boy rabbit, seemed very much excited.
And it was not about his lessons, either, though Sammie was a very smart little school-rabbit. No, it was something else, and pretty soon old Mr. Water Rat, who taught the class, noticed that Sammie was not paying any attention to his school work. Instead of trying to find out how many apples there would be left if you took three potatoes from half a dozen carrots, Sammie was looking at something under his desk.
"Sammie Littletail, what have you there?" asked Mr. Rat, after a bit.
"A water-pistol, if you please, sir," said the rabbit boy, very politely.
"Humph!" exclaimed Mr. Rat. "A school is no place for water-pistols. You may bring it here, Sammie, and then you had better study your lessons."
So Sammie had to bring his water-pistol up to the teacher's desk, and Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail, and all the other animal boys and girls, looked on. And Sammie got all red around his ears, he was so ashamed like.
"Oh, dear!" thought Toodle Flat-tail the beaver boy, as Sammie gave up the toy, "a real water-pistol. It's too bad teacher has it, for he won't know how to have fun with it. I wish Sammie hadn't taken it out; and maybe he'd have let me play with it after school. But now it's gone and the teacher won't give it back until vacation. Oh, dear!"
Sammie, himself, felt badly about his water-pistol, too. But then he knew he should not have taken it out in school. And so the lessons went on.
"Where did you get the water-pistol, Sammie?" asked Toodle Flat-tail of the boy rabbit, at recess.
"Uncle Wiggily Longears gave it to me," said Sammie. "It was a fine one, too. There was a rubber ball on it, and when you squeezed the ball and put the small end of the pistol in the water it sucked up a lot of it. Then, when you squeezed the rubber ball again, the water would shoot out like anything. But now it can't, 'cause Professor Rat has my water-pistol."
"Yes, it's surely too bad!" said Toodle. "I've been saving up for one a long time, but I haven't got my water-pistol yet."
All the animal boys talked about how unlucky it was for Sammie's pistol to be taken away from him, and they all said they thought maybe if Sammie asked Mr. Rat, the teacher, he would give it back.
So Sammie did, after school, and Mr. Rat, being a very kind animal gentleman, said:
"Well, Sammie, if you promise not to bring the water-pistol to school again you may have it back."
Of course Sammie promised, and then he had his toy again. He let all the animal boys take turns squirting it, and when it came to Toodle Flat-tail, the little beaver chap said:
"What'll you sell this water-pistol for, Sammie? I'll give you my new pop gun, and the birch bark whistle I made."
"All right," answered Sammie. "I'll trade you. I'm getting tired of my water-pistol, anyhow."
So that's how Toodle got the water-squirting-pistol that he wanted so very much, and he had a lot of fun with it. But he was very careful not to bring it to school with him, for he did not want Mr. Rat to take it away. Toodle and Noodle played with it around the house, and the best part of it was that their mamma didn't mind how much water they squirted, for beavers live in the pond, you know, and they are wet more than half the time. Only the upper part of their house is out of the pond, and to get in through the front door you have to dive down under water. Isn't that odd?
Well, Toodle and Noodle had a lot of fun with the water-pistol, and Toodle let his sister Crackie shoot it once or twice. She was careful not to let it fall, I'm glad to say, so that it did not get broken.
"Let's play a game with it," said Noodle after a bit. "I'll make believe I'm a funny old sea lion who comes to your house while you're asleep, to try and get in. And you must wake up, and pretend to be scared, and shoot at me with the water-pistol."
"I will!" cried Toodle, and the two beaver brothers had lots of fun playing that game.
And now something is going to happen. I wish I didn't have to tell about it, but I do, for I have promised that I wouldn't leave anything out of these stories, so I have to put the bad part in with the good. But I'll make it come out as nicely as I can at the end.
A few days after Toodle had got the water-pistol from Sammie Littletail, Noodle Flat-tail found some old firecrackers that had been left over from the Fourth of July. They had fallen down a crack in the floor, and there they had been hiding ever since. Firecrackers always like to sleep in cracks you know.
"Oh, goodie!" cried Noodle. "Come on, Toodle. We'll fire them off and have a lot of fun. We'll make believe having a war, and shooting, and all that."
Mrs. Flat-tail didn't happen to be home just then, or I think she would not have let the boys take matches and start to shoot the firecrackers. Toodle and Noodle didn't mean to do wrong, but you know how it is yourself, sometimes.
So they shot off the old firecrackers, and some of them made a loud noise. It grew dark before the beaver boys had finished, and the sparks from the crackers looked quite pretty.
Then Mr. Flat-tail came home and heard, and saw, what the boys were doing. He said:
"Oh, Toodle and Noodle, you must stop this at once! You might set the house on fire!"
"Well, if we did, I could put it out with my water-pistol," Toodle said with a laugh.
"But, anyhow, we haven't any more firecrackers left," said Noodle.
"I'm glad of it," spoke his father.
And that night, when Toodle went to bed he put his water-pistol, all filled with a lot of ice water, right near him on a chair.
"For," he said, "maybe the bad old fox might try to get in tonight, and, if he did, I could squirt water in his eyes, and scare him."
But something else happened. I guess it was worse than a fox, for, all of a sudden, when it was all dark and quiet, and the beavers were asleep, Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver of them all, awakened, and cried out:
"Fire! Fire! Fire! I smell smoke. The house is on fire!"
That woke everybody else up, of course, and such a running around as there was! Surely enough the beaver house—that is, the dry top part that was out of water—was on fire, and it smelled like firecrackers, too. You know how they smell.
"Oh, dear!" cried Mr. Flat-tail. "That's how it happened. Some of the fire-cracker sparks got under the roof, and they glowed and smoked until they have set fire to our house. Oh boys!"
Of course Noodle and Toodle felt very badly about this, even though they had not meant to do it.
"Come, hurry out everybody!" cried Grandpa Whackum, and he helped Mrs. Flat-tail and little Crackie to get out. The fire was quite hot now, and a lot of the other beavers woke up.
"Call the fire engines!" some one cried.
"No—don't do that!" suddenly shouted Toodle. "I have a little fire engine of my own. My water-pistol! I'll put out the fire with that." He had taken it with him when he rushed from the burning house, and now he began to squirt the water on the blaze—the water in his pistol. My how Toodle did squirt his water-pistol! And in a few minutes the fire was out, the house was not burned much and the beavers could go back in it.