Mr. Rabbit at Home, Joel Chandler Harris [ap literature book list TXT] 📗
- Author: Joel Chandler Harris
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Book online «Mr. Rabbit at Home, Joel Chandler Harris [ap literature book list TXT] 📗». Author Joel Chandler Harris
IT MADE HIM GRIN FROM EAR TO EAR
“While the Diddypawn was lying there wondering how he was going to get back home, he heard a roaring and rustling noise in the air. Looking up, he saw that the sky was nearly black with birds. They came in swarms, in droves, and in flocks. There were big birds and little birds, and all sorts and sizes of birds. The trees on the island were their roosting-place, but they were coming home earlier than usual, because they wanted to get rid of the moanings and groanings of the Diddypawn.
“The birds came and settled in the trees, and were about to say good-night to one another, when the Diddypawn rolled over, and began to moan and groan and growl and grumble. At once the birds ceased their chattering, and began to listen. Then they knew they would have no sound sleep that night if something wasn’t done; and so the King-Bird flew down, lit close to the Diddypawn’s ear, and asked him what in the name of goodness gracious he was doing there, how he got there, and what the trouble was anyway.
“All the answer the Diddypawn made was to roll over on his other side, and moan and mumble. Once more the King-Bird fluttered in the air, and lit near the Diddypawn’s ear, and asked him what in the name of goodness gracious he was doing there, how he got there, and what the trouble was anyway. For answer, the Diddypawn turned on the other side, and groaned and grumbled.
“How long this was kept up I’ll never tell you, but after a while, the Diddypawn said the trouble with him was that he wanted to fly. He said he would fly well enough if he only had feathers; but, as it was, he didn’t have a feather to his name, or to his hide either.
“Well, the birds held a convention over this situation, and after a good deal of loud talk, it was decided that each bird should lend the Diddypawn a feather. This was done in the midst of a good deal of fluttering and chattering. When the Diddypawn was decked out in his feathers, he strutted around and shook his wings at a great rate.
“‘Where shall I fly to?’ he asked.
“Now, there was another island not far away, on which everything was dead,—the trees, the bushes, the grass, and even the honeysuckle vines. But some of the trees were still standing. With their lack of leaf and twig they looked like a group of tall, black lighthouses. When the Diddypawn asked where he should fly, Brother Turkey Buzzard made this remark:—
“To this the Diddypawn made reply,—
“Then the Diddypawn fluttered his feathers and hopped about, and, after a while, took a running start and began to fly. He didn’t fly very well at first, being a new hand at the business. He wobbled from side to side, and sometimes it seemed that he was going to fall in the water, but he always caught himself just in time. After a while he reached the island where everything was dead, and landed with a tremendous splash and splutter in the wet marsh grass.
“As dark had not set in, the most of the birds flew along with the Diddypawn, to see how he was going to come out. The Diddypawn had hardly lit, before Brother Turkey Buzzard ups and says:—
“‘I don’t want my feather to get wet, and so I’ll just take it back again.’ This was the sign for all the birds. None wanted his feather to get wet, so they just swooped down on the Diddypawn and took their feathers one by one. When the fluttering was over, the Diddypawn had no more feathers than fins. But he made no complaint. He had it in his mind that he’d rest easy during the night and begin his complaints the next morning.
“Says he, ‘I’ve got the birds and the fishes so trained that when I want to fly, all I’ve got to do is to turn over on my left side and grunt, and when I want to swim, all I’ve got to do is to turn over on my right side and groan.’ Then the Diddypawn smiled, until there were wrinkles in his countenance as deep and as wide as a horse-trough.
“But the birds went back to their roosting-place that night, and there was nothing to disturb them; and the fishes swam around the next day, and there was nothing to bother them.
“Matters went on in this way for several days, and at last some of the birds began to ask about the Diddypawn. ‘Had anybody seen him?’ or ‘Did anybody know how he was getting on?’
“This was passed around among the birds, until at last it came to the ears of Brother Turkey Buzzard. He stretched out his wings and gaped, and said that he had been thinking about taking his family and calling on the Diddypawn. So that very day, Brother Turkey Buzzard, his wife and his children and some of his blood kin, went down to the dead island, to call on the Diddypawn. They went and stayed several days. The rest of the birds, when they came home to roost, could see the Turkey Buzzard family sitting in the dead trees; and after so long a time they came back, and went to roost with the rest of the birds. Some of them asked how the Diddypawn was getting on, and Brother Turkey Buzzard made this reply:—
“This made Brother Owl hoot a little, but it wasn’t long before all the birds were fast asleep.”
Mr. Rabbit never knew how the children liked the story of the Diddypawn. Buster John was about to say something, but he saw little Mr. Thimblefinger pull out his watch and look up at the bottom of the spring.
“What time is it?” asked Mrs. Meadows, seeing that Mr. Thimblefinger still held his watch in his hand.
“A quarter to twelve.”
“Oh,” cried Sweetest Susan, “we promised mamma to be back by dinner time.”
“There’s plenty of time for that,” said Mrs. Meadows. “I do hope you’ll come again. It rests me to see you.”
The children shook hands all around when Mr. Thimblefinger said he was ready to go, and Mr. Rabbit remarked to Buster John:—
“Don’t forget what I told you about Aaron.”
There was no danger of that, Buster John said; and then the children followed Mr. Thimblefinger, who led them safely through the spring, and they were soon at home again.
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