Read Ebook: The Tale of Grumpy Weasel Sleepy-Time Tales by Bailey Arthur Scott Smith Harry L Illustrator

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Ebook has 490 lines and 18103 words, and 10 pages

I A SLIM RASCAL 1

II AT THE OLD STONE WALL 5

V SOLOMON OWL INTERRUPTS 18

VI MR. MEADOW MOUSE ESCAPES 23

X HA! AND HA, HA! 42

XX A FREE RIDE 88

THE TALE OF GRUMPY WEASEL

A SLIM RASCAL

Old Mr. Crow often remarked that if Grumpy Weasel really wanted to be of some use in the world he would spend his time at the sawmill filling knot holes in boards.

"He's so slender," Mr. Crow would say, "that he can push himself into a knot hole no bigger round than Farmer Green's thumb."

Naturally it did not please old Mr. Crow when Solomon Owl went out of his way one day to tell him that he was sadly mistaken. For after hearing some gossip repeat Mr. Crow's opinion Solomon Owl--the wise old bird--had given several long hoots and hurried off, though it was broad daylight, to set Mr. Crow right.

"The trouble--" Solomon explained when he had found Mr. Crow on the edge of the woods--"the trouble with your plan to have Grumpy Weasel work in the sawmill is that he wouldn't keep a knot hole filled longer than a jiffy. It's true that he can fit a very small hole. But if you'd ever watched him closely you'd know that he's in a hole and out the other side so fast you can scarcely see what happens. He's entirely too active to fill the bill."

Old Mr. Crow made a queer noise in his throat, which showed that Solomon Owl had made him angry.

"I never said anything about Grumpy Weasel's filling any bills," Mr. Crow spluttered. "Knot holes were what I had in mind. I've no doubt, though, that you'd like Grumpy Weasel to fill your own bill."

Now, if Solomon Owl had not tried more than once to catch Grumpy Weasel perhaps Mr. Crow's retort wouldn't have made him feel so uncomfortable. And muttering that he wished when people spoke of his beak they wouldn't call it a bill, and that Mr. Crow was too stupid to talk to, Solomon blundered away into the woods.

It was true, of course, that Grumpy Weasel was about the quickest of all the furred folk in Pleasant Valley. Why, you might be looking at him as he stopped for a moment on a stone wall; and while you looked he would vanish before your eyes. It was just as if he had melted away in an instant, so quickly could he dart into a crevice between the stones.

It was surprising, too, that he could whisk himself out of sight so fast, for his body was absurdly long. But if he was long in one way he was short in another. Yes! Grumpy Weasel had the shortest temper of all the field- and forest-folk throughout Pleasant Valley. Even peppery Peter Mink was not so short-tempered as he.

So terrible tempered was Grumpy Weasel that whenever the news flashed through the woods that he was out hunting, all the small people kept quite still, because they were afraid. And even some of the bigger ones--a good deal bigger than Grumpy Weasel himself--felt uneasy.

So you can see whether or not Grumpy Weasel was welcome.

AT THE OLD STONE WALL

Little Mr. Chippy suddenly set up a great twitter. Anybody could see that he was frightened. And one of Jolly Robin's sons, perched in an apple tree near the stone wall where Mr. Chippy lived in a wild grapevine, wondered what could be the matter.

Presently, as he looked beneath him, he saw a long, slim shape dart from a chink of the old wall, and as quickly disappear.

"Huh!" said young Master Robin. "Foolish people who build their homes on walls must expect snakes for visitors." And feeling quite wise and grown up, he turned his back on Mr. Chippy, as if it really made no difference to him if Mr. Chippy did have a dangerous caller.

Meanwhile others of the bird neighbors began to echo Mr. Chippy's warning notes. And young Master Robin thought everybody was silly to make such a fuss over the misfortunes of a humble person like Mr. Chippy.

"If they don't look out they'll scare all the angleworms back into their holes," he grumbled--a remark which shows that he knew little about the ways of the world. And when Rusty Wren swerved near him and called to him to look out for Mr. Chippy's visitor--that he was "a bad one"--young Master Robin actually puffed himself up with rage.

"He seems to think I'm in danger of falling out of this tree," he sneered aloud. "He doesn't know that I can handle myself in a tree as well as he can." As he spoke, Master Robin all but tumbled off his perch. But he caught himself just in time, then looked around hastily to see if anybody had noticed his awkwardness.

All this time poor Mr. Chippy's cries continued. There was really no reason for his alarm. For his wife was away from home, with all their children. But Mr. Chippy kept flying back and forth in a great flutter. He too called to young Master Robin that he'd better go home.

Still that knowing youngster paid no heed to his elder's advice.

"If snakes climb trees I've never seen them do it," he scoffed.

"Certainly I saw him," he cried. "I saw him come out of the wall and go in again."

"He'll get you if you don't go away!" Mr. Chippy shrieked.

"Let him try!" Master Robin scoffed. He was sorry that Mr. Chippy did not hear him. But that distracted little person had already hurried off to warn somebody else.

It was no time at all before Rusty Wren's wife gave a piercing scream.

"That fat Robin boy--he'll be caught!" she wailed.

Now, it made Master Robin very angry to be spoken of in such a way as that.

"Fat!" he burst out in a loud tone as he stared in Mrs. Wren's direction. "Who's fat?"

"You are!" said a strange, grumpy voice right behind him--or so it seemed to young Master Robin.

MASTER ROBIN'S LESSON

When young Master Robin heard the strange voice that sounded so grumpy and so near him he was terribly frightened. He forgot that he thought himself grown up, and very wise, and quite able to go about alone. He didn't even look to see who was speaking, but fell backwards off the limb of the apple tree.

It was lucky for him, too, that he fell just when he did. For a long brownish person, white underneath, took Master Robin's place on the limb so promptly that you could hardly have said he jumped into it from somewhere else. He seemed to have popped out of the tree somewhat as a freshly popped kernel of corn bursts forth. A moment ago it was not there! You were watching, but did not see it grow big.

Well, all at once there was silence in the orchard. Everybody was holding his breath, waiting to see what happened to young Master Robin. Though he had lost his balance and tumbled backward he righted himself quite like an old-timer and flew off across the orchard.

"I didn't know snakes could climb trees," he stammered to Mr. Chippy, who had followed him.

"Snakes!" Mr. Chippy piped. "That wasn't a snake! That was Grumpy Weasel.... And it's a wonder you ever escaped," he added. "I must learn that backward somersault. It's a good thing to know."

You can see that Mr. Chippy was a very humble person. But Mr. Jolly Robin's eldest son was quite proud. Already he began to feel that he had been very skilful in escaping. But of course it was only an accident that he got away.

For once in his life Grumpy Weasel had been careless. It had looked so easy--catching that clumsy young robin! He had spoken to Master Robin, not dreaming that he could save himself. To make matters worse, Grumpy had found Mr. Chippy's nest empty. And Grumpy Weasel was the sort of person that liked to find a bird at home when he called. It always made him more ill-natured than usual to make a call for nothing. And now he had let a stupid young Robin escape him. So it is not surprising that his big black eyes snapped nor that he said something in a fierce voice that sounded like "Chip, chip, chip," but meant something a good deal worse.

And to add to Grumpy Weasel's rage, somebody had laughed hoarsely--somebody that sat in a tall elm across the road.

If he could have caught Mr. Crow there is no doubt that Grumpy would have made that black scamp sorry that he laughed. But old Mr. Crow was too wary to let anybody surprise him. "Haw, haw!" he laughed again. And Grumpy Weasel actually couldn't bear to hear him. Some of the onlookers claimed afterward that they saw Grumpy Weasel start down the tree. And that was as much as they could say. No one knew how he managed to slip out of sight. And the field people say that he was never seen again in that exact spot.

HUNTING A HOLE

Usually Grumpy Weasel did not stray far from a certain corner of Farmer Green's wood lot. He preferred to hunt where he knew the lay of the land. And since he liked especially to hunt along old stone walls, he picked out a long stretch of old tumble-down wall that reached through the woods towards Blue Mountain.

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