 CHAPTER X of MOTHER WESTWIN'S CHILDREN Old grandfather Frog sat on his big green lily-pad in the smiling pool, dreaming of the days when the world was young and the frogs ruled the world. His hands were folded across his white and yellow waistcoat. Round red smiling Mr. Sun sent down his warmest rays on the back of grandfather Frog's green coat. Very early that morning, Old Mother Westwind, hurrying down from the purple hills on her way to help the white sailed ships across the great ocean, had stopped long enough to blow three or four fat, foolish green flies over to the big lily-pad. And they were now safely inside the white and yellow waistcoat. A thousand little tadpoles, the great, great grandchildren of grandfather Frog, were playing in the smiling pool. And every once in a while, wriggling up to the big lily-pad to look with awe at grandfather Frog, and wonder if they would ever be as handsome and big and wise as he. And still old grandfather Frog sat, dreaming and dreaming of the days when all the frogs had tails and ruled the world. Presently Billy Meek came hopping and skipping down the laughing book. Sometimes he swam a little way, and sometimes he ran a little way along the bank. And sometimes he jumped from stone to stone. Billy Meek was feeling very good, very good indeed. He had caught a fine fat trout for breakfast. He had hidden two more away for dinner and a snug little hole no one knew of but himself. Now he had nothing to do but get into mischief. You can always depend upon Billy Meek to get into mischief. He just can't help it. So Billy Meek came hopping and skipping down the laughing book to the smiling pool. Then he stopped as still as the rock he was standing on and peeped through the bullrushes. Billy Meek is very cautious, very cautious indeed. He always looks well before he shows himself that nothing may surprise him. So Billy Meek looked all over the smiling pool in the grassy banks. He saw the sunbeams dancing on the water. He saw the tadpoles having such a good time in the smiling pool. He saw the merry little breezes kissing the buttercups and daisies on the bank. And he saw old grandfather Frog with his hands folded across his white and yellow esket, sitting on the green lily pad, dreaming of the days when the world was young. Then Billy Meek took a long breath, a very long breath, and dived into the smiling pool. Now Billy Meek can swim very fast, very fast indeed. For a little way he can swim even faster than Mr. Trout, and he can stay underwater a long time. Straight across the smiling pool, with not even the tip of his nose out of water, swam Billy Meek. The thousand little tadpoles saw him coming and fled in all directions to bury themselves in the mud at the bottom of the smiling pool. For when he thinks no one is looking, Billy Meek sometimes gobbles up a fat tadpole for breakfast. Straight across the smiling pool swam Billy Meek toward the big green lily pad where grandfather Frog sat, dreaming of the days when the world was young. When he was right under the big green lily pad, he suddenly kicked up hard with his hind feet. Up went the big green lily pad, and of course, up went grandfather Frog, up and over, flat on his back, with a great splash into the smiling pool. Now grandfather Frog's mouth is very big. Indeed, no one else has so big a mouth, unless it be his cousin, old Mr. Toad. And when grandfather Frog went over flat on his back, splash in the smiling pool, his mouth was wide open. You see, he was so surprised, he forgot to close it. So, of course, grandfather Frog swallowed a great deal of water, and he choked and spluttered and swam around in foolish little circles, trying to find himself. Finally, he climbed out on his big green lily pad. Chug a rum, said grandfather Frog, and looked this way, and looked that way. Then he gave a funny hop, and turned about in the opposite direction, and looked this way, and looked that way. But all he saw was the smiling pool, dimpling and smiling, Mrs. Redwing bringing a fat worm to her hungry little babies in their snug nest in the bulrushes, and the merry little breezes, hurrying over to see what the trouble might be. Chug a rum, said grandfather Frog. It is very strange. I must have fallen asleep and had a bad dream. Then he once more settled himself comfortably on the big green lily pad, folded his hands across his white and yellow esket, and seemed to be dreaming again. Only his big, ugly eyes were not dreaming. No indeed. They were very much awake, and they saw all that was going on in the smiling pool. Great grandfather Frog was just pretending. You may fool him once, but grandfather Frog has lived so long that he has become very wise. And though Billy Mink is very smart, it takes someone a great deal smarter than Billy Mink to fool grandfather Frog twice in the same way. Billy Mink hiding behind the big rock had laughed and laughed till he had to hold his sides, when grandfather Frog had choked and spluttered and hopped about on the big lily pad, trying to find out what it all meant. He thought it such a good joke that he couldn't keep it to himself. So when he saw little Joe Otter coming to try his slippery slide, he swam across to tell him all about it. Little Joe Otter laughed and laughed until he had to hold his sides. Then they both swam back to hide behind the big rock to watch until grandfather Frog should forget all about it, and they could play the trick over again. Now out of the corner of one of his big, ugly eyes, grandfather Frog had seen Billy Mink and little Joe Otter with their heads close together, laughing and holding their sides. And he saw them swim over behind the big rock. Very soon one of the Mary Little Breezes danced over to see if grandfather Frog had really gone to sleep. Grandfather Frog didn't move, not the teeniest, weeniest bit, but he whispered something to the Mary Little Breeze, and the Mary Little Breeze flew away, shaking with laughter, to where the other Mary Little Breezes were playing with the buttercups and daisies. Then all the Mary Little Breezes clapped their hands and laughed too. They left the buttercups and daisies and began to play tag across the smiling pool. Now right on the edge of the big rock lay a big stick. Pretty soon the Mary Little Breezes danced over to the big rock, and then suddenly all together they gave the big stick a push. Off it went, and then such a splashing and squealing as there was behind the big rock. In a few moments little Joe Otter crept out beside his slippery slide and slipped away holding on to his head. And sneaking through the bullrushes, so as not to be seen, crawled Billy Mink back towards his home on the laughing book. Billy Mink wasn't laughing now. Oh no, he was limping and he was holding on to his head. Little Joe Otter and Billy Mink had been sitting right underneath the big stick. Chug a rum, said grandfather Frog, and held on to his sides and opened his mouth very wide in a noiseless laugh, for grandfather Frog never makes a sound when he laughs. Chug a rum, said grandfather Frog, once more. Then he folded his hands across his white and yellow wesket, and began again to dream of the days when the frogs had long tails and ruled the world. CHAPTER XI. THE DISAPPOINTED BUSCH. Way down beside the laughing book grew a little bush. It looked a whole lot like other little bushes all around it, but really it was quite different, as you shall see. When in the spring warm jolly round Mr. Sun brought back the birds and set them singing. When the little flowers popped their heads out of the ground to have a look around, then all the little bushes put out their green leaves. This little bush of which I am telling you put out its green leaves with the rest. The little leaves grew bigger and bigger on all the little bushes. By and by on some of the other little bushes, little brown buds began to appear and grow and grow. Then on more and more of the little bushes, the little brown buds came and grew and grew. But on this little bush of which I am telling you, no little brown buds appeared. The little bush felt very sad indeed. Pretty soon all the little brown buds on the other little brown bushes burst their brown coats, and then all the little bushes were covered with little flowers. Some were white and some were yellow and some were pink, and the air was filled with the sweet odor of all the little flowers. It brought the bees from far, far away to gather the honey, and all the little bushes were very happy indeed. But the little bush of which I am telling you had no little flowers, for you see it had no little buds, and it felt lonely and shut away from the other little bushes, and very sad indeed. But it bravely kept on growing and growing and growing. Its little leaves grew bigger and bigger and bigger, and it tried its best not to mind because it had no little flowers. Then one by one and two by two and three by three, and finally in whole showers, the little flowers of all the other little bushes fell off, and they looked very much like the little bush of which I am telling you, so that the little bush no longer felt sad. All summer long all the little bushes grew and grew and grew. The birds came and built their nests among them. Peter Rabbit and his brothers and sisters scampered under them. The butterflies flew over them. By and by came the fall, and with the fall came Jack Frost. He went about among the little bushes, pinching the leaves. Then the little green leaves turned to brown and red and yellow, and pretty soon they fluttered down to the ground, the merry little breezes blew them about, and all the little bushes were bare. They had no leaves at all to cover their little naked brown limbs. The little bush of which I am telling you lost its leaves with the rest. But all the summer long this little bush had been growing some of those little brown buds which the other bushes had had in the spring. And now when all the other little bushes had lost all the green leaves and had nothing at all upon their little brown twigs, behold, one beautiful day the little bush of which I am telling you was covered with gold. For each little brown bud had burst its little brown coat, and there was a beautiful little yellow flower. Such a multitude of these little yellow flowers. They covered the little bush from top to bottom. Then the little bush felt very happy indeed, for it was the only bush which had any flowers. And everyone who passed that way stopped to look at it and to praise it. Colder grew the weather and colder. Johnny Chuck tucked himself away to sleep all winter. Grandfather Frog went deep deep down in the mud not to come out again until spring. By and by the little yellow flowers dropped off the little bush just as the other little flowers in spring had dropped off the other bushes. But they left behind them tiny little packages, one for every little flower that had been on the bush. All winter long these little packages clung to the little bush. In the spring when the little leaves burst forth in all the little bushes, these little packages on the little bush of which I am telling you grew and grew and grew. While the other little bushes had a lot of little flowers as they had had the year before, these little brown packages on the little bush of which I am telling you kept on growing. And they comforted the little bush because it felt that it really had something worthwhile. All the summer long the little brown packages grew and grew until they looked like little nuts. When the fall came again and all the little leaves dropped off all the little bushes, and the little bush of which I am telling you was covered with another lot of little yellow flowers and was very happy. Then these little brown nuts, one bright autumn day, suddenly popped open. And out of each one flew two brown, shiny little seeds. You never saw such a popping and a snapping and a jumping. Pop, pop, snap, snap, hippity hop they went, faster than the corn pops in the corn popper. Ready Fox, who always is suspicious, thought someone was shooting at him. Down on the ground fell the little brown shining seeds and tucked themselves into the warm earth under the warm leaves, there to stay all winter long. And when the third spring came with all its little birds and all its little flowers and the warm sunshine, every one of these little brown seeds which had tucked themselves into the warm earth burst its little brown skin and up into the sunshine came a little green plant which would grow and grow and grow and by and by become just like the little bush I am telling you about. When the little bush looked down and saw all these little green children popping out of the ground it was very happy indeed for it knew that it would no longer be lonely. It no longer felt bad when all the other bushes were covered with flowers for it knew that by and by when all the other little bushes had lost all their leaves and all their flowers then would come its turn and it knew that for a whole year its little brown children would be held safe on its branches. Now what do you think is the name of this little bush? Why it is the witch hazel and sometimes when you fall down and bump yourself hard Grandma will go to the medicine closet and will bring out a bottle and from that bottle she will pour something on that little sore place and it will make it feel better. Do you know what it is? It is the gift of the witch hazel bush to little boys and big men to make them feel better when they are hurt. End of chapter 11. Chapter 12 of Mother Westwind's Children This Lubrivox recording is in the public domain. Recorded by Laurie Ann Walden. Mother Westwind's Children by Thornton W. Burgess. Chapter 12. Why Bobby Coon Washes His Food Happy-go-lucky Bobby Coon sat on the edge of the laughing book just as round red Mr. Sun popped up from behind the purple hills and Old Mother Westwind turned all her merry little breezes out to romp on the green meadows. Bobby Coon had been out all night. You see Bobby Coon is very apt to get into mischief and because usually it is safer to get into mischief under cover of the darkness Bobby Coon prefers the night wherein to go abroad. Not that Bobby Coon is really bad. No mind, no. Everybody likes Bobby Coon. But he can no more keep out of mischief than a duck and keep out of water. So Bobby Coon sat on the edge of the laughing book and he was very busy very busy indeed. He was washing his breakfast. Really it was his dinner for turning night into day just turns everything topsy-turvy. So Bobby Coon eats dinner when most of the little meadow people are eating breakfast. This morning he was very busy washing a luscious ear of sweet corn just in the milk. He dipped it in the water and with one little black paw rubbed it thoroughly. Then he looked it over carefully before with a sigh of contentment he sat down to put it in his empty little stomach. When he had finished it to the last sweet juicy kernel he ambled sleepily up the lone little path to the big hollow chestnut tree where he lives. And in its great hollow in a soft bed of leaves Bobby Coon curled himself up in a tight little ball to sleep the long bright day away. One of the merry little breezes softly followed him. When he had crawled into the hollow chestnut and only his funny ringed tail hung out the merry little breeze tweaked it sharply just for fun and then danced away down the lone little path to join the other merry little breezes around the smiling pool. Oh, grandfather frog cried a merry little breeze. Tell us why it is that Bobby Coon always washes his food. He never eats it where he gets it or takes it home to his hollow in the big chestnut but always comes to the laughing book to wash it. None of the other meadow people do that. Now great grandfather frog is counted very wise. He is very very old and he knows the history of all the tribes of the little meadow people way back to the time when the frogs ruled the world. When the merry little breeze asked him why Bobby Coon always washes his food grandfather frog stopped to snap up a particularly fat foolish green fly that came his way. Then while all the merry little breezes gathered around him he settled himself on his big green lily pad and began. Once upon a time when the world was young old king bear ruled in the green forest. Of course old mother nature who was even more beautiful then than she is now was the real ruler but she let old king bear think he ruled so long as he ruled wisely. All the little green forest folk and all the little people of the green meadows used to take presence of food to old king bear so that he never had to hunt for things to eat. He grew fatter and fatter and fatter until it seemed as if his skin must burst and the fatter he grew the lazier he grew. Grandfather frog paused with an expectant far away look in his great bulging eyes. Then he leaped into the air so far that when he came down it was with a great splash in the smiling pool. But as he swam back to his big lily pad the leg of a foolish green fly could be seen sticking out of one corner of his big mouth and he settled himself with a sigh of great contentment. Old king bear continued grandfather frog just as if there had been no interruption. Grew fatter and lazier every day and like a great many other fat and lazy people who have nothing to do for themselves but are always weighted on by others he grew shorter and shorter in temper and harder and harder to please. Now perhaps you don't know it but the bear family and the coon family are very closely related. In fact they are second cousins. Old Mr. Coon, Bobbie Coon's father with a thousand greats tacked on before, was young then and he was very very proud of being related to old king bear. He began to pass some of his old playfellows on the green meadows without seeing them. He spent a great deal of time brushing his coat and combing his whiskers and caring for his big ringed tail. He held his head very high and he put on such airs that pretty soon he could see no one at all but members of his own family and of the royal family of bear. Now as old king bear grew fat and lazy he grew fussy so that he was no longer content to take everything brought him but picked out the choices portions for himself and left the rest. Mr. Coon took charge of all the things brought his tribute to old king bear and of course where there were so many goodies left he got all he wanted without working. So just as old king bear had grown fat and lazy and selfish Mr. Coon grew fat and lazy and selfish. Pretty soon he began to pick out the best things for himself and hide them before old king bear saw them. When old king bear was asleep he would go get them and stuff himself like a greedy pig. And because he was stealing and wanted no one to see him he always ate his stolen feasts at night. Now old mother nature is as you all know very very wise. Oh very wise indeed. One of the first laws she made when the world was young is that every living thing shall work for what it has and the harder it works the stronger it shall grow. So when old mother nature saw how fat and lazy and selfish old king bear was getting and how fat and lazy and dishonest his cousin Mr. Coon was becoming she determined that they should be taught a lesson which they would remember forever and ever and ever. First she proclaimed that old king bear should be king no longer and no more need the little folks of the green forest and the little people of the green meadows bring him tribute. Now when old mother nature made this proclamation old king bear was fast asleep. It was just on the edge of winter and he had picked out a nice warm cave with a great pile of leaves for a bed. Old mother nature peeped in at him. He was snoring and probably dreaming of more good things to eat. If he is to be king no longer there is no use in waking him now said old mother nature to herself. He is so fat and so stupid. He shall sleep until gentle sister south wind comes in the spring to kiss away the snow and ice. Then he shall awaken with a lean stomach and a great appetite and there shall be none to feed him. Now old mother nature always has a warm heart and she was very fond of Bobby Coon's grandfather a thousand times removed. So when she saw what a selfish glutton and thief he had become she decided to put him to sleep just as she had old king bear. But first she would teach Mr. Coon that stolen food is not the sweetest. So old mother nature found some tender juicy corn just in the milk which Mr. Coon had stolen from old king bear. Then she went down on the green meadows where the wild mustard grows and gathering a lot of this she rubbed the juice into the corn and then put it back where Mr. Coon had left it. Now I have told you that it was night when Mr. Coon had his stolen feasts for he wanted no one to see him. So no one was there when he took a great bite of the tender juicy corn old mother nature had put back for him. Being greedy and a glutton he swallowed the first mouthful before he had fairly tasted it and took a second. And then such a time as there was on the edge of the green forest Mr. Coon rolled over and over with both of his forepaws clasped over his stomach and groaned and groaned and groaned. He had rubbed his eyes and of course had got mustard into them and could not see. He waked up all the little green forest folk who sleep through the night as good people should and they all gathered around to see what was the matter with Mr. Coon. Finally old mother nature came to his relief and brought him some water. Then she led him to his home in the great hollow in the big chestnut tree and when she had seen him curled up in a tight little ball among the dry leaves she put him into the long sleep as she had old King Bear. In the spring when gentle sister Southwind kissed away all the snow and ice old King Bear who was King no longer and Mr. Coon awoke and both were very thin and both were very hungry. Oh very very hungry indeed. Old King Bear who was King no longer wasn't the least might fussy about what he had to eat but ate gladly any food he could find. But Mr. Coon remembered the burning of his stomach and mouth and could not forget it. So whenever he found anything to eat he first took it to the laughing book or the smiling pool and washed it very carefully lest there be some mustard on it. And ever since that long ago time when the world was young the Coon family has remembered that experience of Mr. Coon who was second cousin to old King Bear and that is why Bobby Coon washes his food travels about at night and sleeps all winter concluded grandfather frog fixing his great goggle eyes on a foolish green fly headed his way. Oh thank you thank you grandfather frog cried the merry little breezes as they danced away over the green meadows but one of them slipped back long enough to get behind the foolish green fly and blow him right up to grandfather frog's big lily pad. Chogorom said grandfather frog smacking his lips. End of chapter 12. Chapter 13 of Mother Westwind's Children This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Recorded by Laurie Ann Walden. Mother Westwind's Children by Thornton W. Burgess. Chapter 13 The Merry Little Breezes Have a Busy Day Old Mother Westwind came down from the purple hills in the shadowy coolness of the early morning before even jolly round red Mr. Sun had thrown off his rosy coverlives for his daily climb up through the blue sky. The last little star was blinking sleepily as Old Mother Westwind turned her big bag upside down on the green meadows and all her children the Merry Little Breezes tumbled out on the soft green grass. Then Old Mother Westwind kissed them all around and hurried away to hunt for a rain cloud which had gone astray. The Merry Little Breezes watched her go. Then they played hide and seek until jolly round red Mr. Sun had climbed out of bed and was smiling down on the green meadows. Pretty soon along came Peter Rabbit, liberty, liberty, lip. Hello, Peter Rabbit, shouted the Merry Little Breezes. Come play with us. Can't, said Peter Rabbit. I have to go find some tender young carrots for my breakfast. And away he hurried, liberty, liberty, lip. In a few minutes Jimmy Scott came in sight and he seemed to be almost hurrying along the crooked little path down the hill. The Merry Little Breezes danced over to meet him. Hello, Jimmy Scott, they cried. Come play with us. Jimmy Scott shook his head. Can't, said he. I have to go look for some beetles for my breakfast. And off he went looking under every old stick and pulling over every stone not too big for his strength. The Merry Little Breezes watched him for a few minutes and then raced over to the laughing brook. There they found Billy Meek stealing softly down towards the smiling pool. Oh, Billy Meek, come play with us. Begged the Merry Little Breezes. Can't, said Billy Meek. I have to catch a trout for grandfather Meek's breakfast. And he crept on towards the smiling pool. Just then along came Bumble the Bee. Now Bumble the Bee is a lazy fellow who always makes a great fuss as if he was the busiest and most important fellow in the world. Good morning, Bumble, cried the Merry Little Breezes. Come play with us. Bzz, bzz, bzz, grumbled Bumble the Bee. Can't, for I have to get a sack of honey. And off he hurried to the nearest dandelion. Then the Merry Little Breezes hunted up Johnny Chuck. But Johnny Chuck was busy, too busy to play. Bobby Coon was asleep, for he had been out all night. Reddy Fox also was asleep. Striped chipmunk was in such a hurry to fill the pockets in his cheeks that he could hardly stop to say good morning. Happy Jack Squirrel just flirted his big tail and rushed away as if he had many important things to attend to. Finally the Merry Little Breezes gave it up and sat down among the buttercups and daisies to talk it over. Everyone seemed to have something to do. Everyone but themselves. It was such a busy world that sun shiny morning. Pretty soon one of the Merry Little Breezes hopped up very suddenly and began the maddest little dance among the buttercups. As we haven't anything to do for ourselves, let's do something for somebody else, he shouted. Up jumped all the little breezes, clapping their hands. Oh, let's, they shouted. Way over across the green meadows they could see two long ears above the nodding daisies. There's Peter Rabbit, cried one. Let's help him find those tender young carrots. No sooner proposed than off they all raced to see who could reach Peter first. Peter was sitting up very straight looking this way and looking that way for some tender young carrots, but not one had he found and his stomach was empty. The Merry Little Breezes stopped just long enough to tickle his long ears and pull his whiskers. Then away they raced, scattering in all directions to see who could first find a tender young carrot for Peter Rabbit. By and by when one of them did find a field of tender young carrots, he rushed off, taking the smell of them with him to tickle the nose of Peter Rabbit. Peter wriggled his nose, his funny little nose, very fast when it was tickled with the smell of tender young carrots and the Merry Little Breeze left to see him. Come on, Peter Rabbit, for this is my busy day, he cried. Peter Rabbit didn't have to be invited twice. Away he went, lippity lippity lipp, as fast as his long legs could take him after the Merry Little Breeze. And presently they came to the field of tender young carrots. Oh, thank you, Merry Little Breeze, cried Peter Rabbit, and straight way began to eat his breakfast. Another Merry Little Breeze, slipping up the crooked little path on the hill, spied the hind legs of a fat beetle sticking out from under a flat stone. At once the Little Breeze remembered Jimmy Skunk, who was hunting for beetles for his breakfast. All rushed the Little Breeze in merry whirls that made the grasses sway and bend and the daisies nod. When after a long, long hunt he found Jimmy Skunk, Jimmy was very much out of sorts. In fact, Jimmy Skunk was positively cross. You see, he hadn't had any breakfast, for hunt as he would he couldn't find a single beetle. When the Merry Little Breeze danced up behind Jimmy Skunk and, just in fun, rumbled up his black and white coat, Jimmy quite lost his temper. In fact, he said some things not at all nice to the Merry Little Breeze. But the Merry Little Breeze just laughed. The more he laughed, the crosser Jimmy Skunk grew. And the crosser Jimmy Skunk grew, the more the Merry Little Breeze laughed. It was such a jolly laugh that pretty soon Jimmy Skunk began to grin a little sheepishly, then to really smile, and finally to laugh outright in spite of his empty stomach. You see, it is very hard, very hard indeed, and very foolish to remain cross when someone else is perfectly good-natured. Suddenly the Merry Little Breeze danced up to Jimmy Skunk and whispered in his right ear. Then he danced around and whispered in his left ear. Jimmy Skunk's eyes snapped and his mouth began to water. Where, Little Breeze? Where, he begged. Follow me, cried the Merry Little Breeze, racing off up the crooked little path so fast that Jimmy Skunk lost his breath trying to keep up. For you know, Jimmy Skunk seldom hurries. When they came to the big flat stone, Jimmy Skunk grasped it with both hands and pulled and pulled. Up came the stone so suddenly that Jimmy Skunk fell over flat on his back. When he had scrambled to his feet, there were beetles and beetles running in every direction to find a place to hide. Thank you, thank you, Little Breeze, shouted Jimmy Skunk as he started to catch beetles for his breakfast. And the Little Breeze laughed happily as he danced away to join the other Merry Little Breezes on the Green Meadows. There he found them very, very busy, very busy indeed, so busy that they could hardly find time to nod to him. What do you think they were doing? They were toting gold. Yes, sir, toting gold. And this is how it happened. While the first Little Breeze was showing Peter Rabbit the field of tinder young carrots, and while the second Little Breeze was leading Jimmy Skunk to the flat stone and the beetles, the other Merry Little Breezes had found Bumble the Bee. Now, Bumble the Bee is a lazy fellow, though he pretends to be the busiest fellow in the world. And they found him grumbling as he buzzed with a great deal of fuss from one flower to another. What's the matter, Bumble? cried the Merry Little Breezes. Matter enough, grumbled Bumble the Bee. I've got to make a sack of honey, and if that isn't enough, Old Mother Nature has ordered me to carry a sack of gold from each flower I visit to the next flower I visit. If I don't, I can get no honey. Buzz, buzz, buzz. Grumbled Bumble the Bee. The Merry Little Breezes looked at the million little flowers on the green meadows, each waiting a sack of gold to give and a sack of gold to receive. Then they looked at each other and shouted happily, for they too would now be able to cry, busy, busy, busy. From flower to flower they hurried, each with a bag of gold over his shoulder. Wherever they left a bag, they took a bag, and all the little flowers nodded happily to see the Merry Little Breezes at work. Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun climbed higher and higher and higher in the blue sky, where he can look down and see all things great and small. His smile was broader than ever as he watched the hurrying, scurrying little breezes working instead of playing. Yet after all it was a kind of play, for they danced from flower to flower and ran races across bear places where no flowers grew. By and by the Merry Little Breezes met Peter Rabbit. Now Peter Rabbit had made a good breakfast of tender young carrots, so he felt very good, very good indeed. Hi, shouted Peter Rabbit, come play with me. Can't, cried the Merry Little Breezes altogether. We have work to do. Off they hurried, while Peter Rabbit stretched himself out full length in a sunny spot, for Peter Rabbit also is a lazy fellow. Down the crooked little path onto the green meadows came Jimmy Skunk. Ho! shouted Jimmy Skunk as soon as he saw the Little Breezes. Come play with me. Can't, cried the Little Breezes, for we are busy, busy, busy, and they laughed happily. When they reached the laughing book they found Billy Mink curled up in a round ball, fast asleep. It isn't often that Billy Mink is caught napping, but he had had a good breakfast of trout, he had found no one to play with, and, as he never works and the day was so bright and warm, he had first looked for a place where he thought no one would find him, and had then curled himself up to sleep. One of the Little Breezes laid down the bag of gold he was carrying, and creeping ever so softly over to Billy Mink began to tickle one of Billy's ears with a straw. At first Billy Mink didn't open his eyes, but rubbed his ear with a little black hand. Finally he jumped to his feet wide awake and ready to fight whoever was bothering him. But all he saw was a laughing Little Breeze running away with a bag of gold on his back. So all day long till Old Mother Westwind came with her big bag to carry them to their home behind the Purple Hills, the Merry Little Breezes hurried this way and that way over the Green Meadows. No wee flower was too tiny to give and receive its share of gold, and not one was overlooked by the Merry Little Breezes. Old Mother Nature, who knows everything, heard of the busy day of the Merry Little Breezes. Nobody knows how she heard of it. Perhaps Jolly Round Red Mr. Sun told her. Perhaps, but never mind. You can't fool Old Mother Nature anyway, and it's of no use to try. So Old Mother Nature visited the Green Meadows to see for herself. And when she found how the Merry Little Breezes had distributed the gold, she was so pleased that straightway she announced to all the world that thenceforth and for all time the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother Westwind should have charge of the distribution of the gold of the flowers on the Green Meadows, which they have to this day. And since that day the Merry Little Breezes have been merrier than ever, for they have found that it is not nearly so much fun to play all the time, but that to work for some good in the world is the greatest fun of all. So every year when the gold of the flowers, which some people do not know is gold at all but call pollen, is ready, you will find the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother Westwind very, very busy among the flowers on the Green Meadows. And this is the happiest time of all. End of Chapter 13. Chapter 14 of Mother Westwind's Children. This Lubrivox recording is in the public domain. Recorded by Laurie Ann Walden. Mother Westwind's Children by Thornton W. Burgess. Chapter 14. Why Hootie the Owl does not play on the Green Meadows. The Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother Westwind were having a good night game of tag down on the Green Meadows. They were having such a jolly time while they waited for Old Mother Westwind and her big bag to take them to their home behind the Purple Hills. Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun, had already put his nightcap on. Black shadows crept softly out from the Purple Hills onto the Green Meadows. The Merry Little Breezes grew sleepy, almost too sleepy to play, for Old Mother Westwind was very, very late. Farther and farther and farther out onto the Green Meadows crept the black shadows. Suddenly one seemed to separate from the others. Softly, oh, so softly, yet swiftly, it floated over towards the Merry Little Breezes. One of them happened to look up and saw it coming. It was the same Little Breeze who one time stayed out all night. When he looked up and saw this seeming shadow moving so swiftly, he knew that it was no shadow at all. Here comes Hootie the Owl, cried the Little Breeze. Then all the Merry Little Breezes stopped their game of tag to look at Hootie the Owl. It is seldom they have a chance to see him, for usually Hootie the Owl does not come out on the Green Meadows until after the Merry Little Breezes are snugly tucked in bed behind the Purple Hills. Perhaps Hootie the Owl will tell us why it is that he never comes out to play with us, said one of the Little Breezes. But just as Hootie the Owl floated over to them, up came Old Mother Westwind, and she was in a great hurry, for she was late and she was tired. She had had a busy day, a very busy day indeed, hunting for a rain cloud which had gone astray. So now she just opened her big bag and tumbled all the Merry Little Breezes into it as fast as she could, without giving them so much as a chance to say good evening to Hootie the Owl. Then she took them off home behind the Purple Hills. Of course the Merry Little Breezes were disappointed, very much disappointed, but they were also very sleepy, for they had played hard all day. Never mind, said one of them drowsily. Tomorrow we'll ask great-grandfather Frog why it is that Hootie the Owl never comes out to play with us on the Green Meadows. He'll know. The next morning, Old Mother Westwind was late in coming down from the Purple Hills. When she finally did turn the Merry Little Breezes out of her big bag onto the Green Meadows, jolly, round, red Mr. Sun was already quite high in the blue sky. The Merry Little Breezes waited just long enough to say goodbye to Old Mother Westwind and then started a mad race to see who could reach the smiling pool first. There they found great-grandfather Frog sitting on his big green lily pad as usual. He was very contented with the world was grandfather Frog, for fat green flies had been more foolish than usual that morning, and already he had all that he could safely tuck inside his white and yellow escut. Good morning, grandfather Frog, shouted the Merry Little Breezes. Will you tell us why it is that Hootie the Owl never comes out to play with us on the Green Meadows? Chug a rum, said great-grandfather Frog gruffly. How should I know? You see, grandfather Frog likes to be teased a little. Oh, but you do know, for you are so old and so very wise, cried the Merry Little Breezes altogether. Grandfather Frog smiled, for he likes to be thought very wise, and also he was feeling very good, very good indeed that morning. Chug a rum, said grandfather Frog. If you will sit perfectly still, I'll tell you what I know about Hootie the Owl, but remember you must sit perfectly still, perfectly still. The Merry Little Breezes sighed, for it is the hardest thing in the world for them to keep perfectly still, unless they are asleep. But they promised that they would, and when they had settled down, each one in the heart of a great white water lily, grandfather Frog began. Once upon a time, when the world was young, Hootie the Owl's grandfather a thousand times removed used to fly about in daylight with the other birds. He was very big and very strong and very fierce was Mr. Owl. He had great big claws and a hooked bill just as Hootie the Owl has now, and he was afraid of nothing and nobody. Now when people are very big and very strong and afraid of nothing and nobody, they are very apt to care for nothing and nobody but themselves. So it was with Mr. Owl. Whatever he saw that he wanted, he took, no matter to whom it belonged, for there was no one to stop him. As I have already told you, Mr. Owl was very big and very strong and very fierce, and he was a very great glutton. It took a great many little birds and little animals to satisfy his appetite, but he didn't stop there. No, sir, he didn't stop there. He used to kill harmless little meadow people just for the fun of killing and because he could. Every day he grew more savage. Finally no one smaller than himself dared stir on the green meadows when he was around. The little birds no longer sang. The field mice children no longer played among the meadow grasses. Those were sad days, very sad days indeed on the green meadows, said grandfather Frog with a sigh. At last old mother Nature came to visit the green meadows, and she soon saw what a terrible state things were in. No one came to meet her, for you see no one dared to show himself for fear of fierce old Mr. Owl. Now I have told you that Mr. Owl was afraid of nothing and nobody, but this is not quite true, for he was afraid, very much afraid, of old mother Nature. When he saw her coming he was sitting on top of a tall dead stump, and he at once tried to look very meek and very innocent. Old mother Nature wasted no time. Where are all my little meadow people and why did they not come to give me greeting, demanded old mother Nature, of Mr. Owl. Mr. Owl bowed very low. I'm sure I don't know, I think they must all be taking a nap, said he. Now you can't fool old mother Nature, and it's of no use to try. No sir, you can't fool old mother Nature. She just looked at Mr. Owl, and she looked at the feathers and fur scattered about the foot of the dead stump. Mr. Owl stood first on one foot, and then on the other. He tried to look old mother Nature in the face, but he couldn't. You see, Mr. Owl had a guilty conscience, and a guilty conscience never looks anyone straight in the face. He did wish that mother Nature would say something did Mr. Owl, but she didn't. She just looked and looked and looked and looked straight at Mr. Owl. The longer she looked, the uneasier he got, and the faster he shifted from one foot to the other. Finally, he shifted so fast that he seemed to be dancing on top of the old stump. Gradually, a few at a time, the little meadow people crept out from their hiding places, and formed a great circle around the old dead stump. With old mother Nature there, they felt sure that no harm could come to them. Then they began to laugh at the funny side of fierce old Mr. Owl, hopping from one foot to the other, on top of the old dead stump. It was the first laugh on the green meadows for a long, long, long time. Of course Mr. Owl saw them laughing at him, but he could think of nothing but the sharp eyes of old mother Nature boring straight through him, and he danced faster than ever. The faster he danced, the funnier he looked, and the funnier he looked, the harder the little meadow people laughed. Finally, old mother Nature slowly raised a hand and pointed a long forefinger at Mr. Owl. All the little meadow people stopped laughing to hear what she would say. Mr. Owl, she began, I know and you know why none of my little meadow people were here to give me greeting, and this shall be your punishment. From now on your eyes shall become so tender that they cannot stand the light of day, so that hereafter you shall fly about, only after round, red Mr. Sun has gone to bed behind the purple hills. No more shall my little people who play on the green meadows all the day long have caused to fear you, for no more shall you see to do them harm. When she ceased speaking, all the little meadow people gave a great shout, for they knew that it would be even as Mother Nature had said. Then began such a frolic as the green meadows had not known for many a long day. But Mr. Owl flew slowly and with difficulty over to the darkest part of the deep wood, for the light hurt his eyes dreadfully, and he could hardly see. And as he flew, the little birds flew around him in a great cloud and plucked out his feathers and tormented him, for he could not see to harm them. Grandfather Frog paused and looked dreamily across the smiling pool. Suddenly he opened his big mouth and then closed it with a snap. One more foolish green fly had disappeared inside the white and yellow wesket. Chug a rum, said Grandfather Frog. Those were sad days, sad days indeed, for Mr. Owl. He couldn't hunt for his meals by day for the light to blinded him. At night he could see but little in the darkness, so he got little to eat and he grew thinner and thinner and thinner, until he was but a shadow of his former self. He was always hungry, was Mr. Owl, always hungry. No one was afraid of him now, for it was the easiest thing in the world to keep out of his way. At last, Old Mother Nature came again to visit the green meadows and the green forest. Far, far in the darkest part of the deep wood she found Mr. Owl. When she saw how very thin and how very, very miserable he was, her heart was moved to pity, for Old Mother Nature loves all her subjects, even the worst of them. All the fierceness was gone from Mr. Owl. He was so weak that he just sat huddled in the thickest part of the great pine. You see, he had been able to catch very little to eat. Mr. Owl, said Old Mother Nature, gently, you now know something of the misery and the suffering which you have caused others, and I think you have been punished enough. No more may you fly abroad over the green meadows while the day is bright, for still is the fear of you in the hearts of all my little meadow people. But hereafter you shall not find it so difficult to get enough to eat. Your eyes shall grow big, bigger than the eyes of any other bird, so that you shall be able to see in the dusk and even in the dark. Your ears shall grow large, larger than the ears of any of the little forest or meadow people, so that you can hear the very least sound. Your feathers shall become as soft as down, so that when you fly, none shall hear you. And from that day it was even so. Mr. Owl's eyes grew big and bigger until he could see as well in the dusk as he used to see in the full light of day. His ears grew large and larger until his hearing became so keen that he could hear the least rustle even at a long distance. And when he flew he made no sound but floated like a great shadow. The little meadow people no longer feared him by day, but when the shadows began to creep out from the purple hills each night and they heard his voice, they felt all the old fear of him. If they were wise they did not stir, but if they were foolish and so much as shivered Mr. Owl was sure to hear them and silently pounce upon them. So once more Mr. Owl grew strong and fierce, but only at night had anyone call us to fear him, and then only the foolish and timid. And now you know, concluded grandfather frog, why it is that Hootie the Owl never comes out to play with you on the green meadows and why his eyes are so big and his ears so large. Thank you, thank you grandfather frog, crowd the merry little breezes, springing up from the white water lilies and stretching themselves. We'll bring you the first foolish green fly we can find. Then away they rushed to hunt for it. End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of Mother Westwind's Children This Librivox recording is in the public domain recorded by Laurie Ann Walden Mother Westwind's Children by Thornton W. Burgess Chapter 15 Danny Meadowmouse Learns to Laugh Danny Meadowmouse sat on his doorstep and sulked. The merry little breezes of old Mother Westwind ran past one after another and pointing their fingers at him, cried, Fie Danny Meadowmouse, better go inside the house. Babies cry, oh my, oh my, you're a baby, go and cry. Pretty soon, along the lone little path, came Peter Rabbit. Peter Rabbit looked at Danny Meadowmouse. Then he pointed a finger at him and said, Cry, Danny, cry, Mammy'll whip you by and by, then we'll all come round to see how big a baby you can be. Cry, Danny, cry. Danny Meadowmouse began to snivel. He cried softly to himself as Peter Rabbit hopped off down the lone little path. Soon along came Ready Fox, he saw Danny Meadowmouse sitting on his doorstep crying all by himself. Ready Fox crept up behind a tall bunch of grass. Then suddenly he jumped out right in front of Danny Meadowmouse. Boo! cried Ready Fox. It frightened Danny Meadowmouse. He jumped almost out of his skin and ran into the house crying at the top of his voice. Ha, ha, ha! laughed Ready Fox. Danny, Danny, crying Dan, boo-hoo-hoo'd and off he ran. Then Ready Fox chased his tail all the way down the lone little path onto the green meadows. By and by Danny Meadowmouse came out again and sat on his doorstep. He had stopped crying but he looked very unhappy and cross and sulky. Hopping and skipping down the lone little path came striped chipmunk. Come play with me, called Danny Meadowmouse. Striped chipmunk kept a right own hopping and skipping down the lone little path. Don't want to, said striped chipmunk, sticking his tongue in his cheek. Cry, baby Danny, never will be a manny. Run to Mama, Danny dear, and she will wipe away your tear. Striped chipmunk hopped and skipped out of sight and Danny Meadowmouse began to cry again because striped chipmunk would not play with him. It was true, dreadfully true. Danny Meadowmouse was a cry baby and no one wanted to play with him. If he stubbed his toe, he cried. If striped chipmunk beat him in a race, he cried. If the merry little breezes pulled his whiskers just in fun, he cried. It had come to such a pass that all the little Meadowpeople delighted to tease him just to make him cry. Nowhere on all the green Meadows was there such a cry baby as Danny Meadowmouse. So Danny sat on his doorstep and cried because no one would play with him and he was lonely. The more he thought how lonely he was, the more he cried. Presently along came old Mr. Toad. Now Mr. Toad looks very grumpy and out of sorts, but that is because you do not know old Mr. Toad. When he reached the house of Danny Meadowmouse, he stopped right in front of Danny. He put his right hand behind his right ear and listened. Then he put his left hand behind his left ear and listened some more. Finally he put both hands on his hips and began to laugh. Now Mr. Toad's mouth is very big indeed and when he opens it to laugh, he opens it very wide indeed. Left Mr. Toad. Danny Meadowmouse cried harder than ever and the harder he cried, the harder old Mr. Toad laughed. By and by Danny Meadowmouse stopped crying long enough to say to Mr. Toad, What are you laughing for Mr. Toad? Mr. Toad stopped laughing long enough to reply. I'm laughing Danny Meadowmouse because you are crying at me. What are you crying for? I'm crying said Danny Meadowmouse because you are laughing at me. Then Danny began to cry again and Mr. Toad began to laugh again. What's all this about? Demanded someone right behind them. It was Jimmy Skunk. It's a new kind of game, said old Mr. Toad. Danny Meadowmouse is trying to see if he can cry longer than I can laugh. Then old Mr. Toad once more opened his big mouth and began to laugh harder than ever. Jimmy Skunk looked at him for just a minute and he looked so funny that Jimmy Skunk began to laugh too. Now a good honest laugh is like hooping cough. It is catching. The first thing Danny Meadowmouse knew his tears would not come. It's a fact Danny Meadowmouse had run short of tears. The next thing he knew he wasn't crying at all. He was laughing. Yes sir he actually was laughing. He tried to cry but it was of no use at all. He just had to laugh. The more he laughed the harder old Mr. Toad laughed. And the harder Mr. Toad laughed the funnier he looked. Pretty soon all three of them Danny Meadowmouse, old Mr. Toad and Jimmy Skunk were holding their sides and rolling over and over in the grass. They were laughing so hard. By and by Mr. Toad stopped laughing. Dear me, dear me, this will never do. Said Mr. Toad. I must get busy in my garden. The little slugs they creep and crawl and eat and eat from spring to fall they never stopped to laugh nor cry and really couldn't if they'd try. So if you'll excuse me I'll hurry along to get them out of my garden. Mr. Toad started down the lone little path. After a few hops he paused and turned around. Danny Meadowmouse, said old Mr. Toad, an honest laugh is like sunshine. It brightens the whole world. Don't forget it. Jimmy Skunk remembered that he had started out to find some beetles so still chuckling he started for the crooked little path up the hill. Danny Meadowmouse, once more alone, sat down on his doorstep. His sides were sore he had laughed so hard and somehow the whole world had changed. The grass seemed greener than he had ever seen it before. The sunshine was brighter and the songs of the birds were sweeter. Altogether it was a very nice world a very nice world indeed to live in. Somehow he felt as if he never wanted to cry again. Pretty soon along came the merry little breezes again chasing butterflies. When they saw Danny Meadowmouse sitting on his doorstep they pointed their fingers at him just as before and shouted Fie Danny Meadowmouse better go inside the house babies cry oh my oh my you're a baby go and cry. For just a little minute Danny Meadowmouse wanted to cry. Then he remembered old Mr. Toad and instead began to laugh. The merry little breezes didn't know just what to make of it. They stopped chasing butterflies and crowded around Danny Meadowmouse. They began to tease him. They pulled his whiskers and rumbled his hair. The more they teased the more Danny Meadowmouse laughed. When they found that Danny Meadowmouse really wasn't going to cry they stopped teasing and invited him to come play with them in the long meadow grass. Such a good frolic as they did have. When it was over Danny Meadowmouse once more sat down on his doorstep to rest. Hopping and skipping back up the lone middle path came Stripe Chipmunk. When he saw Danny Meadowmouse he stuck his tongue in his cheek and cried. Cry baby Danny never be a manny run to mama Danny dear and she will wipe away your tear. Instead of crying Danny Meadowmouse began to laugh. Stripe Chipmunk stopped and took his tongue out of his cheek. Then he began to laugh too. Do you want me to play with you? Asked Stripe Chipmunk suddenly. Of course Danny did. And soon they were having the merriest kind of a game of hide and seek. Right in the midst of it Danny Meadowmouse caught his left foot in a root and twisted his ankle. My how it did hurt. In spite of himself tears did come into his eyes but he winked them back and bravely began to laugh. Stripe Chipmunk helped him back to his doorstep and cut funny capers while mother Meadowmouse bound up the hurt foot. And all the time Danny Meadowmouse laughed until pretty soon he forgot that his foot ached at all. When Peter Rabbit came jumping along up the lone little path he began to shout as soon as he saw Danny Meadowmouse. Cry Danny cry man you'll whip you by and by. Then we'll all come round to see how big a baby you can be. Cry Danny cry. But Danny didn't cry. Mine no. He laughed instead. Peter Rabbit was so surprised that he stopped to see what had come over Danny Meadowmouse. When he saw the bandaged foot and heard how Danny had twisted his ankle Peter Rabbit sat right down on the doorstep beside Danny Meadowmouse and told him how sorry he was. For happy go lucky Peter Rabbit is very tender hearted. Then he told Danny all about the wonderful things he had seen in his travels and of all the scrapes he had gotten into. When Peter Rabbit finally started off home Danny Meadowmouse still sat on his doorstep but no longer was he lonely. He watched Old Mother Westwind trying to gather her merry little breezes into her big bag to take to their home behind the purple hills. And he laughed right out when he saw her catch the last mischievous little breeze and tumble him heels overhead in with the others. Old Mr. Toad was right just exactly right thought Danny Meadowmouse as he rocked to and fro on his doorstep. It is much better oh very much better to laugh than to cry. And since that day when Danny Meadowmouse learned to laugh no one has had a chance to point a finger at him and call him a cry baby. Instead everyone has learned to love merry little Danny Meadowmouse and now they call him Laughing Dan. End of Chapter 15 End of Mother Westwind's Children by Thornton W. Burgess