So that's how Toodle and Noodle accidentally set fire to the house and how Toodle put it out with his water-pistol, which was as good as a fire engine, wasn't it?
And in the next story, if the door bell doesn't knock all the salt out of the pepper caster, and make the window get a pain in its toothache, I'll tell you about Toodle and Noodle helping Billie Bushytail.
Toodle and Noodle, the two little beaver boys, were on their way to school one morning. It was rather cool, for Jack Frost, the gentleman, who makes the icicles and snow balls and ice cream cones, had been flying around in the night and had left some of his finger marks on the window panes.
So Toodle and Noodle were hurrying along, with their paws in their pockets to keep them warm, and they tucked in their books as best they could.
"There'll be skating soon," said Toodle to Noodle.
"Yes, and snow-balling and sliding down hill and all that," said Noodle to Toodle.
"Bur-r-r-r-r! don't speak of winter!" cried a voice behind an old stump that Toodle and Noodle had just passed. "You young chaps don't know what it means to have snow and ice and all that."
Toodle and Noodle stopped short. They looked at each other and then they looked around the corner at the stump.
"Do you s'pose that's a bear?" asked Toodle to Noodle.
"Maybe it's a wolf," said Noodle to Toodle.
"Ha! Ha!" laughed a voice behind the stump, and out popped Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver gentleman of them all. "I didn't mean to frighten you, Toodle and Noodle," he said, "but when I heard you talking about snow and ice I just couldn't help calling out. You see winter makes a lot of trouble for us. Sometimes the beaver pond freezes so hard that we can't swim in it.
"Of course we can stay in our houses and sleep during the winter, but even that makes it very hard. We have to dive down under the icy water to get at the soft pieces of bark we have stored away to eat, and in winter the hunters come with their traps and dogs to catch us. Oh, ice and snow are not as much fun as boys and girls think they are.
"But never mind. We all want you to have as much fun as you can, even if it does get cold. So run along to school now, and when winter really comes, I'll show you how to make a sled out of a piece of hickory bark and skates out of some old bones."
So Toodle and Noodle hurried on, getting nice and warm as they hopped, skipped and jumped, as they talked about snow and ice and sleds and skates and all things like that.
"Do you s'pose any dogs and hunters will come after us this winter?" asked Toodle of Noodle.
"I hope not," said Noodle to Toodle. "We must have some lessons in how to keep out of traps, and what to do when dogs chase us."
"Yes, Grandpa Whackum will teach us," said Toodle.
Well, the beaver boys kept on going to school, and they were about half way there when, all of a sudden, Toodle called out:
"Look there!"
"Why, it's Billie Bushytail, the squirrel boy," said Noodle. "And he's carrying a big bag of something."
"Let's see what he's got," suggested Toodle. "Maybe it's a present for teacher."
So they ran up to Billie and called:
"What you got, Billie?"
"Oh, what haven't I got," answered the little boy squirrel. "I've got handkerchiefs, and combs and brushes, and nuts, and some dishes and—oh, dear! I don't know what all is in this bag."
"Why, where did you get it?" asked Noodle.
"It's from our house—where we live in the old oak tree, you know. We're moving away from there, and Johnnie, my brother, and I have to help carry the stuff. Oh, I'd a good deal rather go to school."
"What!" cried Noodle. "Don't you have to go to school?"
"Of course, not—on moving day," answered Billie. "I got an excuse from teacher. Johnnie and I are both staying home."
"I wish we were moving," said Toodle, looking at Noodle.
"So do I," said Noodle, looking at Toodle. "Then we wouldn't have to go to school. Where are you moving to, Billie?"
"To the old hollow stump, next door to where Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the puppy dog boys, live," answered the little squirrel. "Oh, say, but this bag is heavy!"
"Let us help you carry it," said Toodle. "We'd like to; wouldn't we, Noodle?"
"Indeed, we would!" cried the other little beaver boy. "Mamma has always told us to help our friends when we could. I'll carry it part way, Billie—"
"And I'll carry it the rest of the way!" interrupted Noodle, before Toodle could finish. "You just let us take it, Billie."
So the squirrel boy gave the bag to Toodle—the bag that was filled with needles and pins, and combs and brushes, and little salt cellars and odds and ends that Mr. and Mrs. Bushytail, the squirrel lady and gentleman, did not want to pack in the wagon that Old Dog Percival brought to move them in.
You know how it is when you move—there are always some little things left out. Why I remember once, when we moved up from the seashore, I left out my hat on the clothes post and I had to go all the way back for it, and a big wave nearly washed my face and—
But there, I started to tell you about Toodle and Noodle helping Billie, not about myself.
On and on went the two little beaver boys and the little squirrel chap. And surely enough, just as they had said they would, Toodle carried Billie's bag part of the way, and then it would be Noodle's turn, and he would take it. Billie carried the books of the beaver boys, and every once in a while he would open the covers, look over the pages and say:
"Oh, my! But I'm glad now, I don't have to go to school!"
"I—I wish we didn't!" said Toodle with a sigh.
"So do I," said Noodle.
On and on went the two beaver boys, helping Billie Bushytail. The bag was heavy, for it had a lot of things in it, but Toodle and Noodle did not mind that, for they were so glad to help Billie.
Then, all of a sudden, just as the three of them were passing a hole in the fence, out jumped a big bad old fox, and he made a grab for Toodle. But Toodle happened to be carrying the moving bag just then, and he banged the fox on the nose with it, and a hair brush which was in the bag struck the bad animal on his eye, and the fox cried out:
"Oh, excuse me! I guess I made a mistake!" and away he ran as fast as he could, and didn't bother Billie or Toodle or Noodle any more that day.
Well, pretty soon the three of them reached the old hollow stump where the Bushytail family was to move in, and there was Johnny Bushytail, with another bag full of stuff, and Old Dog Percival with a whole wagon load and the squirrel papa and mamma with their paws full of the things they had moved from their house.
"It was awfully good of you two beaver boys to help me carry my bag," said Billie. "Thank you very much."
"Oh, we liked to do it," said Toodle.
"Sure we did," spoke Noodle. "May we help you carry in some of the moving things, Mrs. Bushytail."
"Yes, I guess so," said the squirrel lady, not stopping to think that maybe the beaver boys ought to go to school.
So Toodle and Noodle helped the squirrel family move, and, all at once, when everything was inside the hollow stump house, Toodle cried:
"Oh, Noodle! We forgot all about school!"
"So we did!" said Toodle. "Let's go now. Maybe we won't be very late."
So they went to school, but they got there very, very late indeed, and when Mr. Rat, the teacher, asked them what had happened, Noodle said:
"We were helping Billie Bushytail move. He didn't have to come to school, and we—"
"We wished we didn't either," interrupted Toodle. "And—and—"
"I see," said Mr. Rat, with a smile that went away up under his whiskers. "Well, it is so late now there is no use in your coming to school at all. I'll excuse you for today, but don't be behind paws again."
"We won't!" exclaimed Toodle, and Noodle said: "Oh, goodie!" and then they ran off to play with the squirrel brothers at their new house, and had lots of fun. So that's how Toodle and Noodle helped Billie, and in the next story, if the scrubbing brush doesn't go out sleigh riding on the front porch with the sofa cushion, I'll tell you about Crackie's secret.
"Don't tell Toodle and Noodle; will you, mamma?" asked Crackie Flat-tail, the little beaver girl, as her two brothers popped into the kitchen where she was talking to Mrs. Flat-tail one morning. "Don't you let them know anything about it; will you?"
"No, indeed!" exclaimed the beaver lady with a smile at her little girl, and then one for each of the boys. "I'll not whisper a word, Crackie!"
"Huh! A secret!" exclaimed Toodle. "Secrets are only for girls, anyhow. And they always tell 'em, so they aren't secrets any more; I don't care!"
"You can tell me and I won't tell. Honest I won't! Cross my tail!" exclaimed Noodle. "Do you want to tell me, Crackie?" and he sidled up to his sister as he asked her.
"Nope! I'm not going to tell—at least not now," answered Crackie.
"I—I know where there's a nice sweet piece of aspen bark, Crackie," went on Noodle. "If you want to tell me the secret I'll show you where the bark is, Crackie."
"Nope!" said the little beaver girl, laughing. "I can't tell you until it's ready, anyhow, and now I must go to the store to get some—"
"Look out, Crackie!" exclaimed Mrs. Flat-tail, "or you'll tell your secret before you know it."
"Oh, then I'm going to hurry right away," said Crackie, "and you boys had better go to school, or you'll be late, won't they, mamma?"
"I guess so," answered Mrs. Flat-tail. "Run along Toodle and Noodle."
The two beaver boys looked at their little sister, who was named Crackie because she so often dropped things and cracked them—such things as cups and saucers and once in a while she'd drop her doll. But then this was a rubber baby, and it did not so much matter, for they can't crack until they get very old, and Crackie's rubber doll was quite young.
"I wonder what it was Crackie didn't want mamma to tell us?" spoke Toodle as he got his books ready to go to school.
"I don't know," answered his brother Noodle, "but we'll find out when we come home from our lessons."
"That's what we will," answered Toodle. "But come on now. We don't want to be late the way we were the other day when we helped Billie Bushytail move."
"No indeed!" said Noodle.
So off the beaver boys swam to school. They swam instead of walking, you know, because they lived in a house that was in the middle of a pond of water, and the only way they could get to shore was by swimming.
And the school was in an old boat, as I have told you before, and Professor Rat was the teacher. Sometimes the old boat would float away, and none of the school children could find it. Then there would be no lessons that day. And oh, how sorry those animal children were that they could not go to school! Oh, dear me, yes indeed! I guess so!
But this didn't happen to be one of the days when the school was lost, and soon Toodle and Noodle had reached the place, meeting a number of their friends and having a good time.
But, all the while, Toodle and Noodle were wondering what their mamma and sister Crackie had been talking about in the kitchen, and why it was they weren't let into the secret. In fact, Toodle and Noodle thought so much about it that they didn't study as they should have done.
And when Professor Rat asked Noodle: "How much are two apples and one apple?"
Noodle answered: "It's a secret."
"What!" exclaimed the teacher, surprised like. "A secret! Why every one knows what the answer is. And what every one knows is no secret. Susie Littletail, you may tell us how much one apple and two apples are."
"Three," said Susie.
"Exactly," went on Professor Rat. "So you see it was no secret, Noodle Flat-tail."
"Oh, I guess I was thinking of something else," replied the little beaver boy.
"Well, in school you must think only about your lessons," said Mr. Rat. And that is very true. I only tell you that about Noodle to show how much he was thinking of what Crackie had said. How he did wish he knew the secret!
But now I must tell you about Crackie herself. The little beaver girl did not go to school, being too small, but she was big enough to go to the store, and that is where she swam after Toodle and Noodle had left. And Crackie bought sugar and spice, and everything nice, just as it tells about in the story book, and home she went with them.
"Now, mamma," she said, "you show me how and I'll make it, and when Toodle and Noodle come home they'll be so surprised! Won't they, mamma?"
"Indeed they will, Crackie," said the beaver lady.
So she and Crackie began to make it. What's that? You want to know what it was? Oh, I'm not allowed to tell, for it's still a secret, you know. But in a little while you shall find out. Anyhow, I'm allowed to tell you this much. When it was all done Mrs. Flat-tail put IT in the oven, and—Well, I'll give you three guesses, not another one.
Anyhow, when it was in the oven Crackie said:
"Well, I guess I'll go out and play a little bit, mamma. I'll go see Jennie Chipmunk. She is ill today and didn't go to school. I'll be back when it's done."
Off swam Crackie, and soon she and Jennie were having a fine time playing under the trees; for beavers play out on dry land as well as in the water. Jennie felt better after school was out. I've often heard of real boys and girls who were just like that.
By and by Crackie went back home, and when her mamma opened the oven door there came out the loveliest smell you can imagine.
"Oh, goodie!" cried Crackie. "It's all done, and how nice and brown it is. Now I'm going to fool the boys."
So what did she do but take the secret out of the oven, her mamma helping her, of course, and then Crackie wrapped it all up in a nice clean paper and a clean cloth—the secret, you know—not the oven.
And when the secret was all wrapped up, Crackie took it outside in the yard and she made a big mud pie—a pie out of nice clean mud, such as the beaver animals use to plaster their houses. Inside the mud pie Crackie put her secret, and then she waited for Toodle and Noodle to come home from school.
The beaver boys were not long in coming, either. They did not stop much to play on the way, for they were very anxious to find out the secret. Soon they were at their house. Out in front was Crackie, making believe stuff sugar plums in her mud pie. The sugar plums were only stones, but it was easy enough to pretend with them. I've often done it.
"Where's the secret?" cried Toodle.
"Oh, Crackie, are you going to tell us?" said Noodle.
"There it is," said Crackie, and she pointed to the mud pie she had made.
"That!" cried Noodle.
"Pooh! What a secret!" exclaimed Toodle.
"Wouldn't you like a piece?" asked Crackie, and she looked over at her mother and smiled. Mrs. Flat-tail laughed. Toodle and Noodle looked disappointed-like.
"Only a mud pie," said Noodle.
"Come on, let's play ball," suggested Toodle.
"You'd better wait until I cut my mud pie," said Crackie, and then, while her brothers watched she broke open the mud pie, which she had baked hard and dry in the sun, and there, inside it, covered over with clean, green grape leaves, was a lovely apple pie, all brown and sugary, with birch bark frosting in one place, and watercress candy in another, and inside—oh, my! I can't write any more about it, for it makes me too hungry.
"That's my secret!" said Crackie. "I baked the real pie all by myself, only mamma helped me, of course. And I put it inside the mud pie just for fun. I wrapped it up so it wouldn't get soiled. Will you have some, boys?"
"Will we!" cried Toodle, quickly.
"I guess we will!" shouted Noodle, and they both together kissed little Crackie. And then they ate a piece of her secret pie. Wasn't that nice? I think so, even if I did write this story myself. And on the next page, if the coffee strainer doesn't take the piano out to a moving picture show and leave it there for the banana man, I'll tell you about Toodle and the big log.
One day, when Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail, the little beaver boys, were on their way to school, Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver gentleman in the beaver town, called to them:
"I say, boys, when you come home from school this afternoon I'll have something for you to do."
"Is it a secret?" asked Noodle, wishing he did not have to go to school that day, for he didn't know his reading lesson.
"No, not a secret," answered Grandpa Whackum. "But swim along now. I'll tell you when you come home."
"If it is a secret I hope it's one like Crackie's apple-mud pie," spoke Toodle. "Oh, wasn't that good?" he asked his brother.
"Yum! Yum!" exclaimed Noodle, smacking his lips, and flopping his big tail up and down. "I should say it was! I wish we had some now, and a piece for recess."
"So do I," went on Toodle. "Well, anyhow, if we go somewhere with Grandpa Whackum he's sure to treat us. Maybe he'll get us ice cream cones."
"It's getting too cold for them," spoke Noodle. "I'd rather have some candied water-lily roots, or maybe a birch bark lollypop."
"Oh, I guess I would, too," said his brother.
Well, they went on and on to school, but in the night the wind had blown pretty hard, and the schoolhouse, which, as I have told you, was in an old boat, had drifted off. So Toodle and Noodle couldn't find it right away. Neither could some of the other animal boys and girls who were on their way to recite their lessons.
"Let's look over this way for it," said Bully No-Tail, the frog, pointing one paw toward an old stump where a bear used to live. But the bear had gone off to act in a circus so he wasn't there any more. "Let's look over that way," went on Bully. "Maybe the boat is hidden behind the bushes."
"Oh, no, don't let's look any more," suggested Jillie Longtail, the mousie girl. "I—I don't want to go to school, anyhow."
"Neither do I," added Toodle. "Besides, we've looked pretty good, anyhow, and if we can't find it it isn't our fault."
Well, some of the other animal children said the same thing, and they were just thinking about giving up the search for the school-boat, when along it came floating in the pond, and out in front was Professor Rat himself.
"Good morning, children!" exclaimed Professor Rat.
"Good morning, teacher!" said all the animal children, sort of disappointed-like.
"I'm sorry I am late bringing the school to you this morning," went on Mr. Rat, "and I would have been later only Miss Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy kindly pulled the school along for me. It had drifted away off this time."
"Indeed it had," said Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, who used to take care of Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, when he had the rheumatism. "But now, children, you have your school back again, and I hope you also have your lessons. Good-by."
Off swam Nurse Jane, and some of the animal children—in fact, all of them, thanked her kindly, as did Professor Rat. Still, all the children would have been more thankful if Nurse Jane had not brought the school to them. But there it was, and inside they had to go to study their lessons.
But I started to tell you about Toodle and the big log, and it's about time I began, isn't it?
By and by, after a while, not so very long, school was out, and Toodle and Noodle hurried home, for they wanted to find out what Grandpa Whackum wanted of them.
Soon the two boys saw the old beaver gentleman waiting for them, and as they swam up to him, Grandpa Whackum said:
"Now, boys, you know winter will soon be here, and we beavers must begin to store away the things that we are going to eat when the cold weather comes. Real people put a lot of coal in their cellars, but in our cellars we will put sticks and logs of wood, covered with bark, and we will eat this bark all winter.
"We will store it down under the water, where, even when the pond is covered with ice, we can get it. And besides logs and sticks of wood, we can also eat grass and roots that grow on the bottom of the pond. But we must have lots of bark. So now if you will come with me to the woods, we'll gnaw down some trees and bring them home to put in the cellar for winter. That is something all young beavers must learn, and it is time you began."
"All right," said Toodle.
"We'll be glad to come with you," said Noodle. And he smiled, for he saw, sticking from his grandpa's pocket, some nice, sweet, juicy, mushroom lollypops, which he and his brother like very much.
Well, soon Toodle and Noodle were in the woods gnawing down little trees with their four sharp orange-colored front teeth, about which I have told you. Grandpa Whackum also gnawed down trees with his teeth.
By and by, somehow or other, Toodle wandered away from his grandpa and brother, and soon he was in a lonely part of the forest. But he didn't mind that—at least not just then.
"Ah, there is a fine big aspen tree!" exclaimed Toodle, as he looked at a large one. "That will be dandy for us this winter. I'll gnaw that down."
And he started to do it, sitting on his broad, flat tail, which was like a stool for him, as I have told you before.
Soon Toodle had almost cut the tree down, and when it began to fall he hurried out of the way, and whacked with his tail on the ground, to give warning to any other beavers, that might be nearby, to get out of the way. But Toodle was all alone. None of his animal friends was in sight.
When the tree was down Toodle tried to drag it toward the pond, so it would float like a boat to his house. But Toodle found that the tree was too heavy for him to pull. He wished he had not cut down such a big one, but he did not want to have to ask his grandpa and brother to help him. Toodle was sort of proud, you know, and he wanted to get this large log to his house all by himself, just as you want to do things all for your own self sometimes.
"Well, I can cut the top branches off and then I think I can pull the rest of the log," said Toodle.
So, sitting down on his tail again, Toodle gnawed the top off the log. Then he thought surely he could pull it to the water. But though he strained and tugged and pushed and pulled with all his might, still he couldn't do it.
"I guess, after all, I'll have to get grandpa to help me," he said. "But I don't want to. I'll try once more."
My! how hard Toodle tried. And just as he was going to give up, and call his brother to help him, out of the bushes jumped a big black bear.
"Oh, dear!" cried Toodle. "Now I am a goner! This bear will get me surely!" and he was so frightened that he couldn't jump into the water and swim away; this little beaver boy couldn't. He just sat there shivering and sort of hiding down behind the log, hoping the bear hadn't seen him. But the bear had, and the bear said:
"Ah, ha! There you are!"
"Ye—yes," stammered Toodle. "Are you going to—going to eat me—all up?"
"Why, no, indeed!" laughed the bear in a jolly voice. "I just came to help you, Toodle. I have been watching you trying to roll that big log into the water. It is too much for you, so I'll help. Let me get hold of it."
So the bear stuck his long claws into the log and he pushed, and Toodle pulled, and in a jiffy, which is a very short time, indeed, that log was in the water. Then Toodle could very easily swim along and push it with his paws.
"Thank you very much—thank you twice, Mr. Bear," he called out.
"Why twice?" asked the bear, wiggling his short tail.
"Once for not eating me," said Toodle, "and once for helping me."
"Pray do not mention it," said the bear, blinking both eyes. And then he went back in the woods to go to sleep.
So that's how Toodle gnawed down a big log, and how he got it home with the help of the kind bear. And Noodle and Grandpa Whackum were very much surprised when Toodle told them about it.
And in the next story—that is if the clothespin doesn't pinch the table leg and make it dance so the sugar bowl rolls off and tickles the parlor rug—I'll tell you about Noodle finding a trap.
"Boys, come over here, I want to give you a talking to," said Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver of them all. He spoke to Toodle and Noodle, the little boy beavers, one morning when there was no school.
"A—a talking to," said Toodle.
"I wonder if we've been bad?" asked Noodle.
"Nonsense! Bad? Of course not," said Grandpa Whackum, who heard what his little grandson said. "I just want to give you a little lesson."
"Lessons today—when it's Saturday, and there's no school?" cried Noodle.
"Oh, don't be worried!" exclaimed Grandpa Whackum, who had such a funny name because he used to whack his big tail on the ground (making a noise like a bass drum in the circus) whenever there was any danger. That's the way he used to warn the other beavers to look out. So his name was Whackum. Some of you may, perhaps have thought he was called that because he used to whack the little beavers. Never! Grandpa Whackum never did that. He gave them ice cream cones, or lollypops, instead.
"Don't be worried," said Grandpa Whackum to Toodle and Noodle, who were almost like twins—but not quite. "This will not be a very hard lesson. Besides, animal children, you know, have to always learn things—whether in school or not. And, for that matter, so do real children. Your school teacher can tell you how to add up two apples and three apples, and how to spell cat and dog and boy, and things like that. But she can't always be with you, to teach you how to look out for danger, and how to be polite—though, of course, all school teachers are always polite themselves—and she can't teach you how to eat nicely at the table.
"These things have to be done at home," said Grandpa Whackum, "and so, you see, there are lessons on Saturdays and Sundays, too, as well as on school days."
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Toodle, looking to see if Noodle was stepping on his tail—but he was not.
"So we've got to study!" spoke Noodle, with a sigh.
"Oh, not very much," said their Grandpa Whackum. "I am just going to give you a few lessons in how to keep out of danger. And one big danger is traps."
"Traps, eh?" asked Toodle. "Are there any around here?" and he looked all about him.
"You never can tell," replied Grandpa Whackum. "It is coming on winter now, and you know we beavers get our thicker coats of fur then to keep us warm. And whenever our fur gets nice and thick hunters like to catch us, take off our fur and make muffs and caps and overcoats of it."
"Does it hurt to have your fur taken off?" asked Toodle.
"I should say so!" cried Grandpa Whackum. "Of course I never had it done to me, but lots of my friends have, and they never lived after it. So look out for hunters and dogs. And when a hunter hasn't a gun he may have a trap."
"What's a trap?" asked Noodle.
"A trap," answered Grandpa Whackum, "is something made of steel, with strong springs. Hunters put them near our houses, or where we have to walk along near the dam that holds in the waters of our pond. They cover up their traps, and if you are not careful you may step into one.
"As soon as you do, snap! it goes shut, catching you by the leg. And, unless you can pull your leg out you're caught. Then along comes the hunter, and—well, the next part isn't nice to talk about, so we'll skip that," said Grandpa Whackum. "Anyhow, you want to keep away from traps, and today I'll give you a lesson in how to do it."
Well, Toodle and Noodle thought it wouldn't be so bad after all, to have a lesson on Saturday, when there was no school, so they followed after Grandpa Whackum.
The old beaver gentleman led Toodle and Noodle off through the woods, and along the edge of the beaver pond. He walked on ahead in order to be the first one to see the traps.
"For you know," he said to Toodle and Noodle, "you may step into a trap before you see it. They may be hidden under leaves or even under water. You can't be too careful."
So Grandpa Whackum went on with Toodle and Noodle, giving them a lesson on the way. All of a sudden he stopped short.
"There!" he cried, pointing to a pile of leaves. "There's a trap. The hunter thought he hid it, but I saw it."
He led Toodle and Noodle close up, and there they saw the trap. The sharp steel jaws were open, all ready to spring shut in case any one stepped ever so lightly on the part called the trigger. You know how a toy gun shoots. Well, a trap goes off just like that.
So Grandpa Whackum told the boy beavers all about traps, the different kinds, and how they were baited and set. And he found some more traps, and let the boys look at them—but not too close, you know.
"Oh, I hope I never get caught in a trap," said Noodle.
"What can we do if we are ever caught in one?" asked Toodle.
"Bang your tail on the ground for help, and, if any of us hear you, we'll come," said Grandpa Whackum. "But if you do get caught—well—I don't like to talk about it. Let's go get some lollypops."
So they went, and Toodle and Noodle were more glad than ever that they had had a lesson in traps, even on Saturday.
"Now you may go off and play—lessons are over," said Grandpa Whackum with a smile, and Toodle and Noodle ran off to meet some of their friends.
"I wonder if I can ever find a trap?" thought Noodle, as he was playing ball with Sammie Littletail, Bully, the frog, and others of his friends. "I guess I'll go look, when this game is finished," he said.
So, when the ball game was over, Noodle started off to find a trap. He asked his brother Toodle to come with him, but Toodle said he wanted to play tag with Billie and Johnnie Bushytail, the squirrel boys. So Noodle went off by himself.
As he was walking through the woods, looking on all sides for a trap, the way Grandpa Whackum had taught him to do, the little beaver boy saw the kind old bear who had helped Toodle pull the log into the water.
"Hello, Toodle," said the bear.
"If you please," said Noodle, "I'm not Toodle; I'm his brother."
"Oh, excuse me," said the bear, and he was just going back in the forest to sleep some more, when Noodle saw that the kind bear was about to step into a big bear trap that was right behind him. The bear hadn't seen it.
"Look out!" cried the beaver boy. "A trap! A trap!"
"Mercy me!" exclaimed the bear, and he stepped to one side just in time. "Say, that certainly is a trap," he went on. "Some hunter is after me. But I'll fool him." So the bear sprung the trap shut with a piece of wood, and left it there to show the hunter that some bears were smart. "And I'm glad you told me of the trap," said the bear to the beaver boy. "Otherwise, I might have been caught."
Then Noodle went on a little farther, looking for beaver traps, and all of a sudden he heard a snap, and something caught him by the paw, and there he was, held fast. He had found another trap, but before he had seen it he was caught in it!
"Oh, dear!" he cried, and he pulled and tugged, trying to get loose, but he couldn't. Oh, how badly he felt. After all his Grandpa's lessons to be caught this way. Wasn't it too bad?
"Oh, what shall I do?" he cried. "Soon the hunter may come along and take off my fur. Oh, I know. I'll whack my tail on the ground the way Grandpa told me to. Maybe some one will come to save me."
Noodle's tail wasn't fast in the trap, so he could bang it on the ground. And he had only hit two or three times before the kind bear came rushing up.
"Hello! What's this? In trouble, eh?" said the kind bear. "Well, well! I must help you, since you were so kind to me." So the bear, with his strong paws, easily opened the beaver trap, which was small, and not like a big bear trap. Then Noodle was loose, though his paw hurt him very much.
So he thanked the good bear, and hurried home to tell Grandpa Whackum, and all the other beavers how he had found a trap, and how the bear had helped him out of it.
And now I know you must be tired and sleepy, and want to go to bed. So I'll say good-by, and next, if the frying pan doesn't fall on the gas stove and scare the milk bottle, so all the cream turns sour, I'll tell you about Toodle saving Bully, the frog.
Toodle Flat-tail, the little beaver boy, was coming home from school all alone. The reason of this was that his brother, Noodle, and all his other friends had gone on ahead, not waiting for Toodle.
No, Toodle didn't have to stay in—don't think it! He hadn't whispered, or chewed gum in school, or anything like that. Still he didn't get out when the others did because, you see, he happened to lose a penny out of his pocket, and he stayed to find it—find the penny, not the pocket, you understand, for the pocket was still fast in his little spotted trousers.
The penny which Toodle lost was one Grandpa Whackum, the oldest beaver of them all had given him with which to buy a birch bark lollypop. Toodle had not had time to buy the candy on a stick before school, and so kept his penny in his pocket all that afternoon, while he said his lessons.
And, every once in a while, he would put his paw in his pocket to see if his money were safe. And it was—all except the last time.
Toodle was just feeling of his penny when Professor Rat, who kept school, called out:
"Toodle Flat-tail, please stand up and spell me the word 'fox!'"
Well, if you will kindly believe me, Toodle was so excited when he heard that word "fox," thinking, for all I know, that maybe a fox was trying to get in a window, that he jumped up quickly, pulled his paw out of his pocket, and, alas! the penny came with it. Away rolled the money, over the schoolroom floor, rattle-te-bang! and down a crack it went.
"Oh, dear!" cried Toodle, and all the other animal children laughed.
"Never mind," said Professor Rat, kindly. "You did not mean to do it, Toodle. Now you may recite your lesson, and after school you may stay in and look for your penny."
So that is why the little beaver boy had to stay in to find his penny. His brother Noodle said he'd stay and help him hunt for it, but Toodle said:
"No, you had better go along home and tell mamma that I will be a little late. Then she won't worry."
You see it's too bad to make mammas worry, and if ever we can do anything to stop that it's a good thing. Toodle knew that.
So, as I said, he stayed in after school to hunt for his penny, when all the other pupils went home. And when Professor Rat had finished cleaning off the blackboard, he helped Toodle look for the lost money.
And, all of a sudden, as they were looking for it, and when the kind old rat gentleman teacher was partly under a desk, Toodle cried:
"Oh, I see it!"
"Where?" asked Professor Rat, and he jumped up so quickly that his head bumped on the underside of the desk, and jiggled the ink bottle, and the ink ran all over his collar, and made it all striped black and white like a zebra in the circus.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" cried Toodle, when he saw what had happened.
"Oh, never mind," spoke Professor Rat, wiping the ink out of his left ear with the end of his tail. "Where did you see your penny, Toodle?"
"It rolled down a crack," said the little beaver boy. "I can see it, but I can't get it."
"Then we will call Jillie Longtail, the little mouse girl, to get it for you," said Professor Rat. Jillie Longtail lived near the school, and she was at her house helping her mamma get supper. She soon came over, and, being very small, she could get into little cracks. She quickly slipped into this one and brought up Toodle's lost penny.
"Oh, thank you, so much!" said the little beaver boy. "I'll give you some of my lollypop."
Off Toodle hurried to the candy store that was kept by an old gentleman duck who lived in a molasses barrel, and the little beaver boy bought the nicest birch bark flavored lollypop he could see. Then he went back to Jillie's house to give her a bite. And by this time it was getting rather late, so Toodle thought he had better hurry home.
As he was walking along he heard a rustling in the bushes and, before he could run away, out jumped a bad old fox, who cried:
"Give me that lollypop!" And he was going to take it away from poor Toodle, when, all of a sudden, a big, deep, bass voice cried:
"Here! You let my friend Toodle alone! Don't you dare take his candy, or I'll bite you!"
And that fox was so frightened that he ran away, taking his tail with him, and he never touched Toodle or the lollypop either. The little beaver boy wondered who it was that had saved him, when, out from behind a stump came Bully, the frog boy, laughing as hard as he could.
"Did you hear me?" asked Bully. "Did you hear me scare him?"
"I surely did," said Toodle. "I'm much obliged to you. How did you do it?"
"Why, I have a bad cold," said Bully, "and my voice is very deep and hoarse, just like an automobile horn. I guess when that bad fox heard it he thought maybe I was a giant, and so he ran away."
"I'm glad he did," said Toodle, "for he might have bitten me. Here, Bully, have a bit of my lollypop. It will be good for your sore throat."
So Toodle broke off, with a stone, a bit of his nice lollypop, and gave Bully some. And Bully liked it very much. He said it made him feel better.
Well, the frog boy and the beaver boy walked on through the woods together, talking of many things, such as how to keep out of traps, and how to get away from hunters and dogs, and all like that. Pretty soon, they came to the beaver pond, where Toodle's house was built.
"Come on," cried Toodle. "Let's see who can swim across this pond, Bully."
Into the water sprang the frog and the beaver boy, and they were swimming away, first one and then the other being ahead, when all of a sudden, Bully saw something red in the water.
"Oh, here is a cinnamon lollypop," cried Bully. "Wait until I get it."
"Maybe it's a trap," said Toodle, careful like.
"No, I'm sure it's a lollypop," spoke Bully, who, like all frogs, liked very much anything that was red. Up Bully swam to it, and as quick as a wink, he bit it, intending to carry it away with him. But a second later he cried:
"Oh, dear! I'm caught. You're right, Toodle! It was a trap!"
And, what do you think? That red thing was a piece of red flannel, and it was fast to a hook that a boy had thus baited, and put into the water, hoping to catch a frog. And he had caught Bully. Oh, dear!
Poor Bully squirmed and twisted, and tried to get loose from the hook, but he could not. It had fastened itself in his mouth when he bit on the red flannel that he thought was a cinnamon lollypop.
"Oh, what shall I do?" cried Bully.
"Hold on! I'll save you!" shouted Toodle, swimming as fast as he could toward Bully. The boy, up on the bank of the pond, where he had his pole and hook and line, was trying to pull Bully out of the water. But Toodle took a tight hold of the frog in his paws and then with his big tail, Toodle splashed a whole lot of water in that boy's face, as he sat near the edge of the beaver pond.
"Oh, dear!" cried the boy, surprised like. "It's raining! I guess I'd better go home before I get wet!" You see, he never knew it was Toodle who had splashed him, for he could not see the little beaver chap.
So the boy ran home to his mamma, leaving his pole there. Of course poor Bully was still fast to the hook, but when the boy was gone he and Toodle swam out on the bank, and then Toodle hurried off and got Dr. Possum, who soon took the hook out of Bully's mouth.
Of course it hurt some, just as when you have a tooth pulled, but it's better to have a hook or an aching tooth, out of your mouth than in. And Bully was very much obliged to Toodle for saving him, and he said he'd never bite on anything red again, unless he was sure what it was.
Then Toodle gave Bully some more lollypop, and the two friends got home just in time for their suppers and that's all there is to this story.
But in the next one, if the potato masher doesn't fall on the doll's toes so she can't go roller skating with the sewing machine, I'll tell you about Crackie Flat-tail going to school.
"Come on, boys, wake up!" called Grandpa Whackum, the old beaver gentleman, to Toodle and Noodle, the two beaver boys, at their home in the pond one morning. "Be lively, now! I guess you forget what morning this is."
"Ha! Is it Christmas?" asked Noodle, as he rubbed his sleepy eyes with his paw.
"Or Fourth of July?" asked Toodle, flopping his big, broad tail up and down to see if any mosquitoes had bitten him in the night. But none had, I'm glad to say.
"No, it isn't Fourth of July or Christmas," answered Grandpa Whackum, looking out on the beaver dam that held the waters of the pond from running away. The old gentleman beaver wanted to see if, in the dam, there were any holes that needed mending.
"Today is when your little sister, Crackie, starts for school," went on Grandpa Whackum. He was called that, you know, because he used to whack his tail on the ground to tell when there was danger coming, so the other beavers could go and hide away.
And the little beaver girl was called Crackie because she was always dropping dishes and things and cracking them. She didn't mean to, of course, and lately she didn't drop nearly so many as she used to at first.
"My goodness!" cried Toodle, hopping out of bed. "And so Crackie is to go to school today?"
"Yes; and you and Noodle are to take her," said Grandpa Whackum. "So hurry down to breakfast. You don't want to be late for school the first day Crackie goes, you know."
"No, indeed," said Noodle. "Come on, Toodle, we'll have a race to see who gets dressed first."
So the beaver boys raced at putting on their rubber clothes, which they could wear in the water without getting wet, for beavers are very fond of swimming, you know, and live in the water half the time.
"May I wear my red dress and brown hair ribbons?" asked Crackie of her mamma at the breakfast table.
"I guess so," said Mrs. Flat-tail, who felt a little sorry because her only daughter was growing up big enough to go to school.
Well, pretty soon, in a little while, not so very long, Toodle and Noodle and Crackie were all ready for school. Off they started, after kissing their mamma and Grandpa Whackum good-by. Into the water they jumped, and away they swam.
The school was in an old boat, as I have told you, and often this boat would float away, making it so hard for the animal children to find it that they were sometimes late. But this time Professor Rat, the school teacher, had tied the boat fast to an old stump, so it was easily found, and no one was late.
Toodle and Noodle took their little sister inside the school.
"Ah, ha!" said Professor Rat, kindly. "A new little pupil! Well, Crackie, we are glad to see you. We hope you will like it here. I think first I will put you in the kindergarten class. Later on, when you learn more, you may sit with Toodle and Noodle and Sammie and Susie Littletail and the others."
So Crackie went in the kindergarten class and had a little chair all to herself. Her teacher was a nice lady bug, who could play a tin piano solo so tickily-ickly-like that you would always want to dance. And sometimes she let her pupils march around the room while she played.
Well, after a bit, Crackie looked around, and over on one side of the room she saw her brothers, Toodle and Noodle.
"Say, Toodle!" cried Crackie, right out loud in school, "I'm hungry. Can't I have some of that ginger-bread cake mamma gave you to put in your pocket?"
"Oh, hush, Crackie, dear!" cried Toodle, but all the other animal children laughed to hear Crackie call out loud that way in school.
"But I am hungry!" said Crackie, and tears came into her eyes. You see she had never been to school before, and she did not quite know how to act. "I'm very hungry!" the little beaver girl went on. "Can't you give me something to eat, Noodle, dear?"
Noodle got red behind his ears to think that his sister acted so in school. Professor Rat looked up over his glasses.
"You must not talk in school, Crackie, dear," he said gently. "The others can't study if you talk."
"But I am hungry," went on Crackie. "Maybe if I had something to eat I wouldn't talk. You could try it, Mr. Rat."
Everybody laughed at that—it sounded so funny—and Mr. Rat tried not to smile as he said:
"No, Crackie, we're not allowed to eat in school. You must please be quiet."
"School is a funny place," said Crackie, still speaking out loud. "You can't talk and you can't eat. What can you do?"
"Really, my dear," said Professor Rat, "you must keep quiet. I'm afraid you're not old enough to come to school."
So Crackie kept quiet for a little while and played with her kindergarten blocks and cut some funny things out of paper. But at last she could not stand it any longer. She cried out:
"Isn't it time to eat yet, Toodle?"
Well, it was so quiet just then, with no one saying anything, or reciting, that Crackie's voice sounded very loudly, and every one laughed.
"Crackie," said Professor Rat, and he had to speak sharply, "you really must keep quiet, or else go home."
"Then please let me go home," said Crackie. "I don't have to keep so quiet there and I can get something to eat. Toodle, Noodle, please take me home," and she got up out of her seat, and walked over to her brothers.
"Oh, Crackie!" cried the lady bug teacher, sadly like.
"You mustn't do that," said Professor Rat, and really he didn't know what to do himself. He had never had any one like Crackie in school before. And, really, she didn't mean to be bad. She just didn't know any better. It was her first day, you see.
"I want to talk, I'm hungry, I want to go home," said Crackie, as if that was all there was to it. She didn't see why she couldn't do just as she had been used to doing at home.
"Come on, Toodle and Noodle," she called. "School is no fun. I'm going home!"
Well, of course that upset everything. All the boy and girl animals laughed, and they couldn't study. The lady bug teacher, and Professor Rat himself, did not know what to do with Crackie. Mr. Rat was just thinking that perhaps he had better send one of her brothers home with Crackie when the little beaver girl, who was standing next to the window, cried out:
"Oh, the alligator! The bad, old skillery alligator! He is coming right in at the side door!"
And that was so. Crackie had gotten up just in time to see the alligator, and, only for her, maybe the bad creature would have gotten into the school before any one could stop him.
"Ha!" cried Professor Rat. "The skillery-scalery alligator, eh? I'll fix him! I'm glad you told me, Crackie."
Then the rat gentleman took two blackboard erasers in his paws. He clapped them together—the erasers, I mean—making a noise like a gun, and a lot of chalk dust that was on the erasers flew out, making it look just like smoke from a cannon, and when the 'gator saw this, and when he heard the bang-bang noise, he cried out:
"Wow! I guess I made a mistake. This must be where hunters or soldiers live. This is no place for me!" And away he went, taking his double-jointed tail with him.
"Crackie," said Professor Rat, "you saved us all from the alligator by seeing him in time for me to scare him away. I guess, after all, it's a good thing you came to school, even if you did talk."
"And may I have something to eat?" asked the little beaver girl. "If I may I don't want to go home."
"Give her some of that ginger-bread cake," said Mr. Rat to Toodle. "I guess it won't hurt to let her eat in school, and she is so little, and she was so brave."
So Crackie ate some cake, and she felt better, and all the other animal children wished they had some. Then they had more lessons, and soon school was out, and, after all, Crackie was glad she came.
So, on the next page, if the peanut man doesn't take away our refrigerator to roast his chestnuts on at the moving picture show, I'll tell you about Toodle's roller skates.
"Mamma," said Toodle Flat-tail, the little beaver boy one afternoon as he came in from school, and looked around in the ice box to see if there was any cake left over from dinner, "would you do me a favor, mamma?"
"Well, Toodle," said Mrs. Flat-tail, wiping some flour off the end of her nose with her paw, for she was making a raisin pudding for supper, "well, Toodle, it depends on what the favor is."
"Oh, ma," went on Toodle, making his tail go up and down like a palm leaf fan on Christmas eve, "I do want a pair of roller skates awful bad."
"Roller skates!" cried Mrs. Flat-tail, raising both her paws in the air, she was so surprised like. "Why, you know they cost a lot of money, Toodle, and your father hasn't any too much. You know winter is coming on, and there will be lots of things to buy. Besides, there will soon be snow and ice all over the ground, and ice skates would be better than rollers, I should think. Grandpa Whackum can show you how to make ice skates out of a flat bone."
"I'd rather have roller skates, ma," said Toodle. "It won't be winter for quite a while yet, and I could have lots of fun. I saw one of the Bushytail squirrel boys with a pair coming from school, and he went along like anything—so fast!
"Say, ma, if I had a pair of roller skates I could go to the store for you twice as quick when you wanted anything. Mayn't I have a pair—please?"
"Now, Toodle, said Mrs. Flat-tail. Don't tease, that's a good boy. You know if you had a pair Noodle would want some also, and so would Crackie. And three pairs of roller skates—my gracious goodness me sakes alive! Why your papa would be the poorest beaver in all this pond if he had to buy three pairs of roller skates with winter coming on. I'm afraid you can't get them."
"Oh dear!" said Toodle, with a sigh. "Oh dear!"
He felt so badly that he didn't want to eat much of the nice green willow bark sandwiches they had for supper, and Grandpa Whackum said:
"What's the matter with that boy? Is he sick?"
"He wants roller skates," said Mrs. Flat-tail.
"If he has a pair I want some, too," said Noodle.
"That's how I thought it would be," said Mrs. Flat-tail, with a look at her husband.
"Well, I'm afraid no one can have roller skates this year," said the beaver gentleman. "This is going to be a hard winter. There aren't many trees left around here for food any more, and we'll have to bring them from a long way off. And the pond will soon be frozen over, too. Ice skates would be much better for you, Toodle, and you can make them yourself."
"I'll show you how," spoke Grandpa Whackum.
"I'd—I'd rather have roller skates," said the little beaver boy.
"Well, you had better study your school home work lesson now," said his papa, as he sat down to read the evening paper.
But Toodle did not feel much like studying. You know how it is yourself, when you want a rubber doll, or maybe a water-pistol, or a bicycle, or something that your papa or mamma can't let you have, for one reason or another. You keep thinking of that, and nothing else, and it seems as if you really must have it.
That's the way it was with Toodle. He thought of nothing much but roller skates. The next day in school when Professor Rat asked him how to spell horse, Toodle said:
"R-o-l-l-e-r—roller, s-k-a-t-e—skate—roller skates," and all the animal children laughed at him.
"Next," said the teacher, and poor Toodle had to go down to the foot of the class. Oh, how badly he felt.
But, coming home from school that afternoon, something happened to Toodle and, after that he didn't want roller skates at all any more. I'll tell you about it.
Toodle was walking along by himself. His brother Noodle and the other boys had asked him to come with them to play football, but Toodle was thinking so much about his roller skates that he didn't want to do anything else. So he would not go.
So he was walking along through the woods, feeling rather sad and miserable, and wishing his papa was a rich beaver, when, all of a sudden, Toodle saw a little bear on the path in front of him. The bear was such a small chap, not much bigger than Toodle himself, that the beaver boy wasn't a bit afraid.
Of course he looked around to see if the big papa or mamma bear was in sight, but they were not, and so when the baby bear said "Hello!" Toodle answered back, "Hello!" as bravely as anything.
"What are you doing out here?" asked Toodle of the baby bear.
"Oh just walking along," said the baby bear. "What are you doing here? You don't look very happy, my little beaver boy. Are you looking for anything?"
"Yes, I'm looking for a pair of roller skates," said Toodle. "Of course, I don't believe I'll find 'em out here, but I'm looking just the same."
Then a sharp, cunning look came over the face of that baby bear, and he said:
"Well, now, if this isn't the best luck! Say, beaver boy, come with me, and maybe my father will give you his roller skates. He's going to take a long winter sleep soon, and he won't need them. I'll ask him to let you take his."
"Will you really?" cried Toodle in delight. "That's fine! I'll come right along with you."
Now Toodle had been told never to believe what a bear—even a baby bear—said, or to go with one of them. But he was thinking so much about roller skates that he couldn't think of anything else. And so he forgot to be careful.
"Just come along to the den where I live," said the baby bear, "and maybe I'll get you some roller skates."
Toodle felt very happy to hear this, and walked along through the woods at the side of the brown baby bear. Pretty soon they came to the bear's den. At first Toodle was a little afraid when he saw the papa and mamma bear, but the baby bear waved his paws at them, and cried out:
"I've brought a nice fat beaver boy home with me. He wants some roller skates. I told him maybe he could have your old ones, papa, for you're going to take a long sleep."
"That's right," said Mr. Bear. "That's right."
Toodle thought it was funny for the baby bear to speak about how he had brought a fat beaver boy home.
"I wonder why he said I was fat," thought Toodle. Oh, if he had only known how bears like fat beavers just before they take a long winter sleep! Oh my, but just wait and see what happens.
"I'll go in and get the skates," said Mr. Bear. Then he said to his wife: "You stay out here with this nice fat beaver boy. Oh, isn't he fat!"
"I wonder why they're so glad I'm fat?" thought Toodle.
Well he sat down on his tail outside the bear's stone cave and waited. Mr. Bear and the little baby bear went inside.
Pretty soon, through an open window in the cave, Toodle heard voices speaking. They were the voices of the papa bear and the baby bear talking together.
"Didn't I do well to bring home a nice, fat beaver boy for our supper?" asked the baby bear. "I saw him in the woods, and when he said roller skates I could see that he wanted them very much. I knew you had an old pair, so I told him to come along."
"Yes," said Mr. Bear. "I'll make believe to give the skates to him, and then we'll ask him in the den to try them on, and then we can grab him, and——"
"Yum! Yum!" exclaimed the little bear, smacking his lips, and Toodle knew by that how hungry the little bear was.
"Ah, ha!" exclaimed the beaver boy. "So this is a trick, eh? The roller skates are only to fool me! Those bears want to get me in their den and then they'll eat me. I'm not going to stay here!" And with that he ran off toward a pond of water, where he knew he would be safe, for a bear can never catch a beaver in water.
"Here! Where are you going?" cried Mrs. Bear. "Come back for your roller skates, beaver boy!"
"I—I guess I don't want any," said Toodle, slyly-like, and with that he jumped into the water and swam safely home, though the big papa bear tried to catch him. But he didn't, I'm glad to say. So you see it was all a trick about the roller skates, and the baby bear tried to fool Toodle with them.
And when Toodle reached home he was all over the notion of wanting roller skates, which had nearly gotten him into a lot of trouble.
"Never believe what bears say—even a baby bear—unless they are good bears," said Grandpa Whackum when he heard what had happened, and Papa Flat-tail said the same thing. "And soon I'll show you how to make ice skates," said Grandpa Whackum.
So that is the story of Toodle, and how he didn't get his roller skates after all, and it's a good thing he didn't, I guess. And in the next story, if the spelling book doesn't jump over the geography and spill the ink bottle out of the parlor window, I'll tell you about Noodle and the pop corn.