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

together, he thought of course Striped Chipmunk had come back and was pulling his tail. When he thought that, he got over his fright right away, for Striped Chipmunk is such a little fellow that Happy Jack knew that he had nothing; to fear from him.

So as fast as he could, Happy Jack backed out of the hole and whirled around. Of course he expected to face a very angry little Chipmunk. But he didn’t. No, sir, he didn’t. Instead, he looked right into the angry face of his other cousin, Chatterer the Red Squirrel. And Chatterer was angry! Oh my, my, how angry Chatterer was! For a minute he couldn’t find his voice, because his anger fairly choked him. And when he did, how his tongue did fly!

“You thief! You robber! What are you doing in my storehouse?” he shrieked.

Happy Jack backed away hurriedly, for though he is much bigger than Chatterer, he has a very wholesome respect for Chatterer’s sharp teeth, and when he is very angry, Chatterer is a great fighter.

“I⁠—I didn’t know it was your storehouse,” said Happy Jack, backing away still further.

“It doesn’t make any difference if you didn’t; you’re a thief just the same!” screamed Chatterer and rushed at Happy Jack. And what do you think Happy Jack did? Why, he just turned tail and ran, Chatterer after him, crying “Thief! Robber! Coward!” at the top of his lungs, so that everyone in the Green Forest could hear.

X Striped Chipmunk’s Happy Thought

Waste seems to me a dreadful sin;
It works to lose and not to win.

Thrift will win; it cannot lose.
Between them ’tis for you to choose.

Happy Jack

Striped Chipmunk sat on a mossy old log, laughing until his sides ached. “Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!” laughed Striped Chipmunk, holding his sides. Over in the Green Forest he could still hear Chatterer the Red Squirrel crying “Thief! Robber!” as he chased his big cousin, Happy Jack, and every time he heard it, Striped Chipmunk laughed harder.

You see, Striped Chipmunk had known all the time that Happy Jack was spying on him, and he had had no end of fun fooling Happy Jack by suddenly disappearing and then bobbing into view. He had known that Happy Jack was following him so as to find out where his storehouse was. Then Striped Chipmunk had remembered the storehouse of Chatterer the Red Squirrel. He had filled the pockets in his cheeks with acorns and gone straight over to Chatterer’s storehouse and put them inside, knowing that Happy Jack would follow him and would think that that was his storehouse. And that is just what happened.

Then Striped Chipmunk had hidden himself where he could see all that happened. He had seen Happy Jack look all around, to make sure that no one was near, and then tear open the little round doorway of Chatterer’s storehouse until it was big enough for him to squeeze through. He had seen Chatterer come up, fly into a rage, and pull Happy Jack out by the tail. Indeed, he had had to clap both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Then Happy Jack had turned tail and run away with Chatterer after him, shouting “Thief” and “Robber” at the top of his voice, and this had tickled Striped Chipmunk still more, for he knew that Chatterer himself is one of the greatest thieves in the Green Forest. So he sat on the mossy old log and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Finally Striped Chipmunk wiped the tears from his eyes and jumped up. “My, my, this will never do!” said he.

“Idle hands and idle feet
Never filled a storehouse yet;
But instead, so I’ve heard say,
Into mischief surely get.”

“Here it is almost Thanksgiving and⁠—” Striped Chipmunk stopped and scratched his head, while a funny little pleased look crept into his face. “I wonder if Happy Jack and Chatterer would come to a Thanksgiving dinner,” he muttered. “I believe I’ll ask them just for fun.”

Then Striped Chipmunk hurried home full of his new idea and chuckled as he planned his Thanksgiving dinner. Of course he couldn’t have it at his own house. That wouldn’t do at all. In the first place, the doorway would be altogether too small for Happy Jack. Anyway, his home was a secret, his very own secret, and he didn’t propose to let Happy Jack and Chatterer know where it was, even for a Thanksgiving dinner. Then he thought of the big, smooth, mossy log he had been sitting on that very morning.

“The very place!” cried Striped Chipmunk, and scurried away to find Happy Jack Squirrel and Chatterer the Red Squirrel to invite them to his Thanksgiving dinner.

XI Striped Chipmunk’s Thanksgiving Dinner

There’s nothing quite so sweet in life
As making up and ending strife.

Happy Jack

Striped Chipmunk jumped out of bed very early Thanksgiving morning. It was going to be a very busy day. He had invited Happy Jack the Gray Squirrel, and Chatterer the Red Squirrel, to eat Thanksgiving dinner with him, and each had promised to be there. Striped Chipmunk chuckled as he thought how neither of his guests knew that the other was to be there. He washed his face and hands, brushed his hair, and ate his breakfast. Then he scurried over to his splendid new storehouse, which no one knew of but himself, and stuffed the pockets in his cheeks with good things to eat. When he couldn’t stuff another thing in, he scurried over to the nice, mossy log on the edge of the Green Forest, and there he emptied his pockets, for that was to be his dining table.

Back and forth, back and forth between his secret storehouse and the smooth, mossy log hurried Striped Chipmunk. He knew that Happy Jack and the Chatterer have great appetites, and he wanted to be sure that there was plenty of good things