Green Meadow Stories, Thornton W. Burgess [read people like a book .txt] 📗

as the friends who really called. Indeed, they seemed more interested.

Who were they? Why, Reddy Fox was one. Then there was Old Man Coyote, also Redtail the Hawk and Digger the Badger, and just at dusk Hooty the Owl. They all seemed very much interested indeed, but every time little Mrs. Peter saw them, she shivered. You see, she couldn’t help thinking that there was a dreadful, hungry look in their eyes, and if the truth is to be told, there probably was.

But happy-go-lucky Peter Rabbit didn’t let this worry him. Hadn’t he grown up from a teeny-weeny baby and been smart enough to escape all these dangers which worried Mrs. Peter so? And if he could do it, of course his own babies could do it, with him to teach them and show them how. Besides, they were too little to go outside of the Old Briar-patch now. Indeed, they were too little to go outside their nursery, which was in a clump of sweetbriar bushes in the very middle of the Old Briar-patch, and Peter felt that there they were perfectly safe.

“It isn’t time to worry yet,” said Peter to little Mrs. Peter, as he saw the fright in her eyes as the shadow of Redtail passed over them. “I don’t believe in borrowing trouble. Time enough to worry when there is something to worry about, and that won’t be until these little scallawags of ours are big enough to run around and get into mischief. Did you ever see such beautiful babies in all your life?”

For a minute the worried look left little Mrs. Peter, and she gazed at the four little helpless babies fondly. “No,” she replied softly, “I never did. Oh, Peter, they are perfectly lovely! This one is the perfect image of you, and I’m going to call him Little Pete. And don’t you think his brother looks like his grandfather? I think we’ll call him Little Jed.”

Peter coughed behind his hand as if something had stuck in his throat. He had no love for Little Jed’s grandfather, Old Jed Thumper, the big, gray, old Rabbit who had tried so hard to drive him from the Old Pasture, but he didn’t say anything. If Mrs. Peter wanted to name this one Little Jed, he wouldn’t say a word. Aloud he said:

“I think, my dear, that this one looks just as you must have looked when you were little, and so we’ll call her Fuzzy. And her sister we’ll call Wuzzy,” continued Peter. “Was ever there such a splendid nursery for baby Rabbits?”

“I don’t believe there ever was, Peter. It’s better than my old nursery in the Old Pasture,” replied little Mrs. Peter, as with a sigh of perfect happiness she stretched out beside their four babies.

And Peter softly tiptoed away to the nearest sweet-clover patch with his heart almost bursting with pride.

Of the doings of Peter and Mrs. Peter Rabbit and their four children there are many more stories, so many that one book will not hold all of them. Besides, Bowser the Hound insists that I must write a book about him, and I have promised to do it right away. So the next book will be Bowser the Hound.

Bowser the Hound I Old Man Coyote Leads Bowser Away

Though great or small the matter prove
Be faithful in whate’er you do.
’Tis thus and only thus you may
To others and yourself be true.

Bowser the Hound

Old Man Coyote is full of tricks. People with such clever wits as his usually are full of tricks. On the other hand Bowser the Hound isn’t tricky at all. He just goes straight ahead with the thing he has to do and does it in the most earnest way. Not being tricky himself, he sometimes forgets to watch out for tricks in others.

One day he found the fresh trail of Old Man Coyote and made up his mind that he would run down Old Man Coyote if he had to run his legs off to do it. He always makes up his mind like that whenever he starts out to hunt. You know there is nothing in the world Bowser enjoys quite so much as to hunt someone who will give him a long, hard run. Any time he will go without eating for the pleasure of chasing Reddy or Granny Fox, or Old Man Coyote.

Now Old Man Coyote was annoyed. He was and he wasn’t afraid of Bowser the Hound. That is to say he was afraid to fight Bowser, but he wasn’t afraid to be hunted by Bowser, because he was so sure that he was smart enough to get away from Bowser. If Bowser had appeared at almost any other time Old Man Coyote wouldn’t have been so annoyed. But to have Bowser appear just then made him angry clear through. You see he had just started out to get his dinner.

“What business has that good-for-nothing dog over here anyway, I’d like to know,” he muttered, as he ran swiftly through the Green Forest. “What right has he to meddle in other folks’ business? I’ll just teach that fellow a lesson; that’s what I’ll do! I’ll teach him that he can’t interfere with me not be sorry for it.”

So Old Man Coyote ran and ran and ran, and never once did he try to break his trail. In fact, he took pains to leave a trail that Bowser could follow easily. After him Bowser ran and ran and ran, and all the time his great voice rang out joyously. This was the kind of a hunt he loved. Out of the Green Forest into the Old Pasture, Old Man Coyote led Bowser the Hound. Across the Old Pasture and out on the other side they raced. Farther and farther away from home Old Man Coyote led Bowser the Hound. Instead of circling back as usual, he kept on. Bowser kept on after him. By and by he was in strange country, country he had