Green Forest Stories, Thornton W. Burgess [ebook reader color screen .TXT] 📗

it. Day after day they did the same thing. At night when they had left and all was quiet inside the sugar-house, Whitefoot stole out and found delicious crumbs where they had eaten their lunch. He tasted that thick golden stuff and found it sweet and good. Later he watched them make sugar and nearly made himself sick that night when they had gone home, for they had left some of that sugar where he could get at it. He didn’t understand these queer doings at all. But he was no longer afraid. III Farmer Brown’s Boy Becomes Acquainted

It didn’t take Farmer Brown’s boy long to discover that Whitefoot the Wood Mouse was living in the little sugar-house. He caught glimpses of Whitefoot peeping out at him. Now Farmer Brown’s boy is wise in the ways of the little people of the Green Forest. Right away he made up his mind to get acquainted with Whitefoot. He knew that not in all the Green Forest is there a more timid little fellow than Whitefoot, and he thought it would be a fine thing to be able to win the confidence of such a shy little chap.

So at first Farmer Brown’s boy paid no attention whatever to Whitefoot. He took care that Whitefoot shouldn’t even know that he had been seen. Every day when he ate his lunch, Farmer Brown’s boy scattered a lot of crumbs close to the pile of wood under which Whitefoot had made his home. Then he and Farmer Brown would go out to collect sap. When they returned not a crumb would be left.

One day Farmer Brown’s boy scattered some particularly delicious crumbs. Then, instead of going out, he sat down on a bench and kept perfectly still. Farmer Brown and Bowser the Hound went out. Of course Whitefoot heard them go out, and right away he poked his little head out from under the pile of wood to see if the way was clear. Farmer Brown’s boy sat there right in plain sight, but Whitefoot didn’t see him. That was because Farmer Brown’s boy didn’t move the least bit. Whitefoot ran out and at once began to eat those delicious crumbs. When he had filled his little stomach, he began to carry the remainder back to his storehouse underneath the woodpile. While he was gone on one of these trips, Farmer Brown’s boy scattered more crumbs in a line that led right up to his foot. Right there he placed a big piece of bread crust.

Whitefoot was working so hard and so fast to get all those delicious bits of food that he took no notice of anything else until he reached that piece of crust. Then he happened to look up right into the eyes of Farmer Brown’s boy. With a frightened little squeak Whitefoot darted back, and for a long time he was afraid to come out again.

But Farmer Brown’s boy didn’t move, and at last Whitefoot could stand the temptation no longer. He darted out halfway, scurried back, came out again, and at last ventured right up to the crust. Then he began to drag it back to the woodpile. Still Farmer Brown’s boy did not move.

For two or three days the same thing happened. By this time, Whitefoot had lost all fear. He knew that Farmer Brown’s boy would not harm him, and it was not long before he ventured to take a bit of food from Farmer Brown’s boy’s hand. After that Farmer Brown’s boy took care that no crumbs should be scattered on the ground. Whitefoot had to come to him for his food, and always Farmer Brown’s boy had something delicious for him.

IV Whitefoot Grows Anxious

’Tis sad indeed to trust a friend
Then have that trust abruptly end.

Whitefoot

I know of nothing that is more sad than to feel that a friend is no longer to be trusted. There came a time when Whitefoot the Wood Mouse almost had this feeling. It was a very, very anxious time for Whitefoot.

You see, Whitefoot and Farmer Brown’s boy had become the very best of friends there in the little sugar-house. They had become such good friends that Whitefoot did not hesitate to take food from the hands of Farmer Brown’s boy. Never in all his life had he had so much to eat or such good things to eat. He was getting so fat that his handsome little coat was uncomfortably tight. He ran about fearlessly while Farmer Brown and Farmer Brown’s boy were making maple syrup and maple sugar. He had even lost his fear of Bowser the Hound, for Bowser had paid no attention to him whatever.

Now you remember that Whitefoot had made his home way down beneath the great pile of wood in the sugar-house. Of course Farmer Brown and Farmer Brown’s boy used that wood for the fire to boil the sap to make the syrup and sugar. Whitefoot thought nothing of this until one day he discovered that his little home was no longer as dark as it had been. A little ray of light crept down between the sticks. Presently another little ray of light crept down between the sticks.

It was then that Whitefoot began to grow anxious. It was then he realized that that pile of wood was growing smaller and smaller, and if it kept on growing smaller, by and by there wouldn’t be any pile of wood and his little home wouldn’t be hidden at all. Of course Whitefoot didn’t understand why that wood was slipping away. In spite of himself he began to grow suspicious. He couldn’t think of any reason why that wood should be taken away, unless it was to look for his little home. Farmer Brown’s boy was just as kind and friendly as ever, but all the time more and more light crept in, as the wood vanished.

“Oh dear, what does it mean?” cried Whitefoot to himself. “They must