The Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book Part 6

Dog trying to keep up with our folks. It was called the 'Brush Pile law.' It didn't say that he couldn't keep up with us if he was able, but it did say that when we ran behind a brush pile, as we did sometimes, he must follow around the brush pile and never jump over it, no matter what happened. This was a hard law for Mr. Dog to keep, for he was mostly fat and excitable, and my folks would run around and around a brush pile, as much as a hundred times very often, and tire Mr. Dog so that he couldn't move. Then my folks would laugh and go home leisurely, while Mr. Dog would sneak off with his tongue hanging out till it dragged on the ground."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MY TWENTY-FIRST GREAT-GREAT-GRANDFATHER COULD NOT RUN VERY FAST."]

"Well, one day in the spring, when my family was out for an airing and a little suns.h.i.+ne, they got a good ways from home, and all of a sudden here comes Mr. Dog and his whole family, too. My folks didn't want anything to do with them, and set out for home in several directions, with Mr. Dog's folks following most all of them. My twenty-first great-great-grandfather was getting pretty old and couldn't run very fast, and there was a young, anxious looking dog named Leap quite close behind him. So the first brush pile he came to my relative paused and when Leap came around one way he went the other, and they kept that up until Leap got so mad and excited and worn out that he didn't care for the 'Brush Pile law' or anything else except my twenty-first great-great-grandfather, and all of a sudden he gave a great big bark and a high jump right straight over the top of the brush pile, and just that second the moon tipped up on its edge and all my folks and all Mr.

Dog's folks came tumbling right down through the Big Nowhere to the earth, because they were all running and not holding on--all except Leap, who stayed right up in the air, according to law, and he has been there ever since.

"And when my folks and Mr. Dog's folks got down to the earth they were all so scared that my folks ran in one direction and Mr. Dog's folks ran in another. The dog family kept on running till they got to Mr. Man's house, and there they hid and stayed."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IT'S JUST AS PLAIN AS CAN BE."]

"And since that day," concluded Mr. Jack Rabbit, "there has never been any of our family in the moon, and Leap is the only dog there. He's still jumping over the brush pile because he broke the law, and you can see him there any clear night when the moon sits up on its edge as it does now. And that's what those spots are--a dog jumping over a brush pile. It's just as plain as can be."

The 'Possum and the 'c.o.o.n looked up at the full moon and said that the spots certainly did look a good deal like Mr. Dog jumping over a brush pile, but that the Rabbit couldn't prove his story any more than they could prove theirs, and that it wasn't any better story, if it was as good.

"Of course I can prove it," said the Rabbit. "There is an old adage about it, and you can prove anything by an old adage. It goes this way:--

"The longest way is often best-- Never jump over a cuckoo's nest.

"I don't know just why it says 'cuckoo's nest,' but I suppose cuckoos always used to build in brush piles in the moon, and maybe they do yet.

Anyhow it proves it."

"Why, yes," said the 'c.o.o.n. "Sure enough!"

"That's so! It does!" said the 'Possum.

THE FIRST PIG STORY

MR. CROW SPENDS A SOCIAL EVENING WITH MR. DOG

Once upon a time, said the Story Teller, when the Old Black Crow was visiting Mr. Dog----

"Was that the night that Mr. Rabbit and the rest told their moon stories?" interrupted the Little Lady.

The very same night, and the Crow and Mr. Dog got to telling stories, too.

They told pig stories because they both knew a good deal about pigs, and Mr. Dog, being in his own house, let the Crow tell first. Mr. Crow said he was going to tell a true story, so he lit his pipe and began this way:--

MR. CROW'S STORY OF THE LITTLE PIG.

Well, said Mr. Crow, there was once a lot of little pigs that lived in a large pen with the big mother pig and were very fat and happy--all but one.

This poor little fellow was what is called a runt pig, because he was not nearly so big as the others, nor so strong. They crowded him away at dinner time, so that he barely got enough to live on, and stayed small and thin, while the others grew every day fatter and fatter.

At last the little runt pig made up his mind that he would run away and be a wild pig such as he had heard his brothers and sisters talk about sometimes after supper.

He thought about it a good deal, and one morning bright and early he started. Being so little, he squeezed through a small hole in the back of the pen, and then ran away very fast, without stopping to look behind. He ran and ran, straight across the barnyard, where there were some chickens scratching, and out into a big field. When he got so tired that he could go no further he stopped for a little, and then ran on again.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "OH, HERE'S THE WOODS!"]

He had to go a long way, but by and by he saw a lot of trees, and said, "Oh, here's the woods! Now I'll be a wild pig!" So he squeezed between two boards that made a crack in the fence, and under the trees he saw a lot of ripe peaches and apples, for he was in a big orchard.

It was just peach time, and the little pig was very hungry.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE BEGAN SQUEALING FOR HIS MOTHER.]

So he ate and ate, first a lot of peaches, and then a lot of apples; then a lot more peaches, and then a good many more apples. Then he picked out only the ripest and finest apples and peaches as he came to them, and ate and kept on eating until he had pains in his stomach and began squealing for his mother.

"Oh, oh, oh!" he squealed. "I am going right home!" But when he came to the fence he had eaten so much fruit that he could not get through the crack again and stuck fast half way. Then he squealed louder than ever, and pretty soon somebody said:--

"Why, here's a little pig fast in the fence!" And Mr. Man came through the orchard and took hold of the little pig's hind legs and pressed the boards apart so's not to hurt him.

"Whose pig are you, I want to know?" he said as he pulled him out.

Then Mr. Man took the little pig under his arm and went back through the orchard with him to his house.

"Here's a little runt pig I found stuck fast in our fence," he said to Mrs. Man when he got there. "He's eaten too many apples and peaches, I should think, by the way he looks and squeals."

Then he fixed up a nice box for him, with clean straw in it, and gave him some warm milk in a pan. By and by the little pig went to sleep.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE TOOK THE FIRST PRIZE.]

Every day Mr. Man and his wife brought him nice things to eat, and soon the little pig grew so fat that they had to put him in a larger pen.

Then they fed him still more, and, being all alone, he ate just as much as he wanted. So he grew and grew, fatter and fatter, and every few weeks they had to put him in a larger pen, until people came from all over the country to see what a beautiful large pig he was. Then by and by there was a fair where all the fine pigs were taken for show, and Mr.

Man and Mrs. Man and the little runt pig all went to the fair, but the little pig wasn't a little runt pig any more, for he took the first prize for being the largest and finest pig at the fair.

THE SECOND PIG STORY

MR. DOG TELLS OF ANOTHER RUNAWAY WHO HAS A STRANGE ADVENTURE

When Mr. Crow had finished the story about the little runt pig Mr. Dog nodded and said that was a good story and that he knew the mate to it.

So then he filled up his pipe, too, and lit it and leaned back and told the story about

CURLY, THE RUNAWAY.

"This," said Mr. Dog, "is the story of a saucy pig--a saucy, fat pig, with a curly tail. He wasn't good to his brothers and sisters, and was greedy, and not very clean, either, because he wouldn't wear his bib at the table, and often grabbed things and tipped them over, instead of being polite and taking what his mother put on his plate.

"Besides this, the saucy pig, who was called Curly, used to boast of how strong he was, and how fast he could run and how far he could jump, and when he heard some story about a little runt pig who ran away and made his fortune--the same one you told, perhaps--he went around boasting that he could do that any day, and that he could run twice as far as any little runt pig, and get twice as fat and take twice as big a prize at the fair."

[Ill.u.s.tration: AS BIG AS YOU PLEASE.]