The Hollow Tree Snowed-in Book
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"I never had such a trip as that before, and never expect to have one again. The balloon went over the Wide Blue Water just after it got our family, and we were all afraid we would be let down in it and drowned; but the people who were in the balloon threw out something heavy which we thought at first they were throwing at us, but it must have been something to make the balloon go up; for we did go up until Aunt Melissy said if we'd just get a little nearer one of those clouds she'd step out on it and live there, as she'd always wanted to do since she was a child.
"Then we all sat up and held on tight, above and below, and said what a nice day it was to travel, and that we'd always travel that way hereafter; and Uncle Silas and the hired man unhooked their furniture, so they could land easier when the time came, and Aunt Melissy passed around the lunch, and we looked down and saw the water and the land again and a lot of houses and trees, and Aunt Melissy said that nobody could ever made her believe the world was that big if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes.
"And Uncle Silas and the hired man said that of course this was going pretty fast, but that they had travelled a good deal faster sometimes when they were in town with Cousin Glenwood, and pretty soon he showed us the town where Cousin Glenwood lived, and he and the hired man tried to point out the house to us, but they couldn't agree about which it was because the houses didn't look the same from up there in the air as they did from down on the ground.
"I know I shall never forget that trip. We saw ever so many different Mr. Men and Mr. Dogs, and animals of every kind, and houses that had chimneys taller than any tree, and a good many things that even Uncle Silas did not know about. Then by-and-by we came to some woods again – the biggest kind of Big Deep Woods – and we saw that we were getting close to the tree-tops, and we were all afraid we would get hit by the branches and maybe knocked off with our things.
"And pretty soon, sure enough, that anchor did drop right down among the trees, and such a clapping and scratching as we did get!
"We shut our eyes and held on, and some of our furniture was brushed off of Uncle Silas and the hired man, and Aunt Melissy lost her umbrella, and I lost a toy chicken, which I could never find again. Then all at once there was a big sudden jerk that jarred Uncle Silas loose, and made Aunt Melissy holler that she was killed, and knocked the breath out of the rest of us for a few minutes.
"But we were all there, and the anchor was fast on the limb of a big tree – a tree almost as big as the Hollow Tree, and hollow, just like it, with a nice handy place to go in.
"So when we got our senses back we picked up all our things that we could find, and moved into the new place, and Aunt Melissy looked at the clock, which was still running, and it was just a little over two hours since we started.
"Then pretty soon we heard Mr. Man and his friends who had been up in the balloon coming, and we stayed close inside till they had taken the anchor and everything away, and after that, when it was getting dark, Uncle Silas and the hired man went out and found, not very far off, where there were some nice chickens that roosted in handy places, and brought home two or three, and Aunt Melissy set up the stove and cooked up a good supper, and we all sat around the kitchen fire, and the storm that the east wind had been blowing up came along sure enough and it rained all night, but we were snug and dry, and went to sleep mostly in beds made down on the floor, and lay there listening to the rain and thinking what a nice journey we'd had and what a good new home we'd found.
"And it was a good place, for I lived there till I grew up, and if I'm not mistaken some of Uncle Silas's and Aunt Melissy's children live there still. I haven't heard from any of them for a long time, but I am thinking of going on a visit over that way in the spring, and if that balloon is still running I'm going to travel with it.
"And that," said Mr. 'Possum, "is a true story – all true, every word, for I was there."
Nobody said anything for a minute or two after Mr. 'Possum had finished his story – nobody could say anything.
Then Mr. Rabbit coughed a little and remarked that he was glad that Mr. 'Possum said that the story was true, for no one would ever have suspected it. He said if Mr. 'Possum hadn't said it was true he would have thought it was one of those pleasant dreams that Mr. 'Possum had when he slept hanging to a peg head down.
But Mr. Turtle, who had been sitting with his eyes shut and looking as if he were asleep, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and said that what Mr. 'Possum had told them was true – at least, some of it was true; for he himself had been sitting in the door of his house on the shore of the Wide Blue Water when the balloon passed over, and he had seen Uncle Silas Lovejoy's family sitting up there anchored and comfortable; and he had picked up a chair that Uncle Silas had dropped, and he had it in his house to this day, it being a good strong chair and better than any that was made nowadays.
Well, of course after that nobody said anything about Mr. 'Possum's story not being true, for they remembered how old and wise Mr. Turtle was and could always prove things, and they all talked about it a great deal, and asked Mr. 'Possum a good many questions.
They said how nice it was to know somebody who had had an adventure like that, and Mr. Rabbit changed his seat so he could be next to Mr. 'Possum, because he said he wanted to write it all down to keep.
And Mr. 'Possum said he never would forget how good those chickens tasted that first night in the new home, and that Mr. Rabbit mustn't forget to put them in.
Then they all remembered that they were hungry now, and Mr. Crow and Mr. Squirrel and Mr. Robin hustled around to get a bite to eat before bedtime, and Mr. 'Possum hurried down to bring up the stove-wood, and was gone quite awhile, though nobody spoke of it – not then – even if they did wonder about it a little – and after supper they all sat around the fire again and smoked and dropped off to sleep while the clock ticked and the blaze flickered about and made queer shadows on the wall of the Hollow Tree.
THE BARK OF OLD HUNGRY-WOLF
HOW THE HOLLOW TREE PEOPLE HAVE A MOST UNWELCOME VISITOR, AND WHAT BECOMES OF HIM"WHAT made Mr. 'Possum so anxious to get the wood, and what made him stay down-stairs so long when he went after it?" asks the Little Lady next evening, when the Story Teller is lighting his pipe and getting ready to remember the history of the Hollow Tree.
"We're coming to that. You may be sure there was some reason for it, for Mr. 'Possum doesn't hurry after wood or stay long in a cold place if he can help it, unless he has something on his mind. Perhaps some of the Deep Woods People thought of that too, but if they did they didn't say anything – not at the time. I suppose they thought it didn't matter much, anyhow, if they got the wood."
So they went right on having a good time, keeping up a nice fire, and eating up whatever they had; for they thought the big snow couldn't last as long as their wood and their things to eat, and every day they went up to look out of the up-stairs windows to see how much had melted, and every day they found it just about the same, only maybe a little crustier on top, and the weather stayed very cold.
But they didn't mind it so long as they were warm and not hungry, and they played games, and recited their pieces, and sang, and danced, and said they had never had such a good time in all their lives.
But one day when Mr. Crow went down into the store-room for supplies he found that he was at the bottom of the barrel of everything they had, and he came up looking pretty sober, though he didn't say anything about it – not then, for he knew there were plenty of bones and odds and ends he could scrape up, and he had a little flour and some meal in his pantry; so he could make soup and gravy and johnny-cake and hash, which he did right away, and they all said how fine such things were for a change, and told Mr. Crow to go right on making them as long as he wanted to, even if the snow stayed on till spring. And Mr. 'Possum and Mr. 'Coon said it was like old times, and that Mr. Crow was probably the very best provider in the Big Deep Woods.
Mr. Crow smiled, too, but he didn't feel like it much, for he knew that even johnny-cake and gravy wouldn't last forever, and that unless the snow went away pretty soon they would all be hungry and cold, for the wood was getting low, too.
And one morning, when Mr. Crow went to his meal-sack and his flour-bag and his pile of odds and ends there was just barely enough for breakfast, and hardly that. And Mr. Crow didn't like to tell them about it, for he knew they all thought he could keep right on making johnny-cake and gravy forever, because they didn't have to stop to think where things came from, as he did, and he was afraid they would blame him when there was nothing more left.
So the Old Black Crow tried to step around lively and look pleasant, to keep anybody from noticing, because he thought it might turn warm that day and melt the snow; and when breakfast was ready he put on what there was and said he hadn't cooked very much because he had heard that light breakfasts were better for people who stayed in the house a good deal, and as for himself, he said he guessed he wouldn't eat any breakfast that morning at all.
Then while the others were eating he crept down-stairs and looked at the empty boxes and barrels and the few sticks of wood that were left, and he knew that if that snow didn't melt off right away they were going to have a very hard time. Then he came back up in the big living-room and went on up-stairs to his own room, to look out the window to see if it wasn't going to be a warm, melting day. But Mr. Crow came back pretty soon. He came back in a hurry, too, and he slammed his door and locked it, and then let go of everything and just slid down-stairs. Then the Deep Woods People jumped up quick from the table and ran to him, for they thought he was having a fit of some kind, and they still thought so when they looked into his face: for Mr. Crow's eyes were rolled up and his bill was pale, and when he tried to speak he couldn't. And Mr. Rabbit said it was because Mr. Crow had done without his breakfast, and he ran to get something from the table; but Mr. Crow couldn't eat, and then they saw that some of the feathers on top of his head were turning gray, and they knew he had seen some awful thing just that little moment he was in his room.
So then they all looked at one another and wondered what it was, and they were glad Mr. Crow had locked the door. Then they carried him over to the fire, and pretty soon he got so he could whisper a little, and when they knew what he was saying they understood why he was so scared and why he had locked the door; for the words that Mr. Crow kept whispering over and over were: "Old Hungry-Wolf! Old Hungry-Wolf! Old Hungry-Wolf!"
All the Deep Woods People know what that means. They know that when Old Hungry-Wolf comes, or even when you hear him bark, it means that there is no food left in the Big Deep Woods for anybody, and that nobody can tell how long it will be before there will be food again. And all the Deep Woods People stood still and held their breath and listened for the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf, because they knew Mr. Crow had seen his face looking in the window. And they all thought they heard it, except Mr. 'Possum, who said he didn't believe it was Old Hungry-Wolf at all that Mr. Crow had seen, but only Mr. Gray Wolf himself, who had perhaps slipped out and travelled over the snow to see if they were all at home and comfortable.
But Mr. Crow said:
"No, no; it was Old Hungry-Wolf! He was big and black, and I saw his great fiery eyes!"
Then Mr. 'Possum looked very brave, and said he would see if Old Hungry-Wolf was looking into his window too, and he went right up, and soon came back and said there wasn't any big black face at his window, and he thought that Mr. Crow's empty stomach had made him imagine things.
So then Mr. 'Coon said that he would go up to his room if the others would like to come along, and they could see for themselves whether Old Hungry-Wolf was trying to get in or not.
Then they all went very quietly up Mr. 'Coon's stair (all except Mr. 'Possum, who stayed with Mr. Crow), and they opened Mr. 'Coon's door and took one look inside, and then Mr. 'Coon he slammed his door shut, and locked it, and they all let go of everything and came sliding down in a heap, for they had seen the great fiery eyes and black face of Old Hungry-Wolf glaring in at Mr. 'Coon's window.
So they all huddled around the fire and lit their pipes – for they still had some tobacco – and smoked, but didn't say anything, until by-and-by Mr. Crow told them that there wasn't another bite to eat in the house and very little wood, and that that was the reason why Old Hungry-Wolf had come. And they talked about it in whispers – whether they ought to exercise any more, because though exercise would help them to keep warm and save wood, it would make them hungrier. And some of them said they thought they would try to go to sleep like Mr. Bear, who slept all winter and never knew that he was hungry until spring. So they kept talking, and now and then they would stop and listen, and they all said they could hear the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf – all except Mr. 'Possum, which was strange, because Mr. 'Possum is fond of good things and would be apt to be the very first to hear Old Hungry's bark.
And when the fire got very low and it was getting cold, Mr. 'Possum said for them not to move; that he would go down after a piece of wood, and he would attend to the fire as long as the wood lasted, and try to make it last as long as possible. And every time the fire got very low Mr. 'Possum would bring a piece of wood, and sometimes he stayed a good while (just for one piece of wood), but they still didn't think much about it – not then. What they did think about was how hungry they were, and Mr. 'Crow said he knew he could eat as much as the old ancestor of his that was told about in a book which he had once borrowed from Mr. Man's little boy who had left it out in the yard at dinner-time.
Then they all begged Mr. Crow to get the book and read it to them, and perhaps they could imagine they were not so hungry. So Mr. Crow brought the book and read them the poem about
THE RAVENOUS RAVENOh, there was an old raven as black as could be,And a wonderful sort of a raven was he;For his house he kept tidy, his yard he kept neat,And he cooked the most marvellous dainties to eat.He could roast, he could toast, he could bake, he could fry,He could stir up a cake in the wink of an eye,He could boil, he could broil, he could grill, he could stew —Oh, there wasn't a thing that this bird couldn't do.He would smoke in the sun when the mornings were fair,And his plans for new puddings and pies would prepare;But, alas! like the famous Jim Crow with his shelf,He was greedy, and ate all his dainties himself.It was true he was proud of the things he could cook,And would call in his neighbors sometimes for a look,Or a taste, it may be, when his pastry was fine;But he'd never been known to invite them to dine.With a look and a sigh they could stand and beholdAll the puddings so brown and the sauces of gold;With a taste and a growl they'd reluctantly goPraying vengeance to fall on that greedy old crow.Now, one morning near Christmas when holly grows green,And the best of good things in the markets are seen,He went out for a smoke in the crisp morning air,And to think of some holiday dish to prepare.Mr. Rabbit had spices to sell at his store,Mr. Reynard had tender young chicks by the score,And the old raven thought, as he stood there alone,Of the tastiest pastry that ever was known.Then away to the market he hurried full soon,Dropping in for a chat with the 'possum and 'coonJust to tell them his plans, which they heard with delight,And to ask them to call for a moment that nightFor a look and a taste of his pastry so fine,And he hinted he might even ask them to dine.Then he hurried away, and the rest of the dayMessrs. 'Possum and 'Coon were expectant and gay.Oh, he hurried away and to market he went,And his money for spices and poultry he spent,While behind in the market were many, he knew,Who would talk of the marvellous things he would do;So with joy in his heart and with twinkling eyeHe returned to his home his new project to try,Then to stir and to bake he began right away,And his dish was complete at the end of the day.Aye, the marvel was done – 'twas a rich golden hue,And its smell was delicious – the old raven knewThat he never had made such a pastry before,And a look of deep trouble his countenance wore;"For," thought he, "I am certain the 'possum and 'coonThat I talked with to-day will be coming here soon,And expect me to ask them to dine, when, you see,There is just a good feast in this dainty for me."Now, behold, he'd scarce uttered his thoughts when he heardAt the casement a tapping – this greedy old bird —And the latch was uplifted, and gayly strode inBoth the 'coon and the 'possum with faces agrin.They were barbered and brushed and arrayed in their best,In the holiday fashion their figures were dressed,While a look in each face, to the raven at least,Said, "We've come here to-night, sir, prepared for a feast."And the raven he smiled as he said, "Howdy-do?"For he'd thought of a plan to get rid of the two;And quoth he, "My dear friends, I am sorry to sayThat the wonderful pastry I mentioned to-dayWhen it came to be baked was a failure complete,Disappointing to taste and disturbing to eat.I am sorry, dear friends, for I thought 'twould be fine;I am sorry I cannot invite you to dine."And the 'coon and the 'possum were both sorry, too,And suspicious, somewhat, for the raven they knew.They declared 'twas too bad all that pudding to waste,And they begged him to give them at least just a taste,But he firmly refused and at last they departed,While the greedy old crow for the dining-room started,And the pie so delicious he piled on his plate,And he ate, and he ate, and he ate, and he ate!Well, next morn when the 'possum and 'coon passed alongThey could see at the raven's that something was wrong,For no blue curling smoke from the chimney-top came;So they opened his door and they called out his name,And they entered inside, and behold! on the floorWas the greedy old raven, but greedy no more:For his heart it was still – not a flutter was there —And his toes were turned up and the table was bare;Now his epitaph tells to the whole country-sideHow he ate, and he ate, and he ate till he died.When Mr. Crow finished, Mr. Rabbit said it was certainly an interesting poem, and if he just had a chance now to eat till he died he'd take it, and Mr. 'Coon said he'd give anything to know how that pie had tasted, and he didn't see how any one pie could be big enough to kill anybody that felt as hungry as he did now. And Mr. 'Possum didn't say much of anything, but only seemed drowsy and peaceful-like, which was curious for him as things were.
Well, all that day, and the next day, and the next, there wasn't anything to eat, and they sat as close as they could around the little fire and wished they'd saved some of the big logs and some of the food, too, that they had used up so fast when they thought the big snow would go away. And the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf got louder and louder, and he began to gnaw, too, and they all heard it, day and night – all except Mr. 'Possum, who said he didn't know why, but that for some reason he couldn't hear a sound like that at all, which was very strange, indeed.
But there was something else about Mr. 'Possum that was strange. He didn't get any thinner. All the others began to show the change right away, but Mr. 'Possum still looked the same, and still kept cheerful, and stepped around as lively as ever, and that was very strange.
By-and-by, when Mr. 'Possum had gone down-stairs for some barrel staves to burn, for the wood was all gone, Mr. Rabbit spoke of it, and said he couldn't understand it; and then Mr. 'Coon, who had been thinking about it too, said he wondered why it sometimes took Mr. 'Possum so long to get a little bit of wood. Then they all remembered how Mr. 'Possum had stayed so long down-stairs whenever he went, even before Old Hungry-Wolf came to the Hollow Tree, and they couldn't understand it at all.
And just then Mr. 'Possum came up with two little barrel staves which he had been a long time getting, and they all turned and looked at him very closely, which was a thing they had never done until that time. And before Mr. 'Possum noticed it, they saw him chew – a kind of last, finishing chew – and then give a little swallow – a sort of last, finishing swallow – and just then he noticed them watching him, and he stopped right in his tracks and dropped the two little barrel staves and looked very scared and guilty, which was strange, when he had always been so willing about the wood.
Then they all got up out of their chairs and looked straight at Mr. 'Possum, and said:
"What was that you were chewing just now?"
And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"What was that you were swallowing just now?"
And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"Why do you always stay so long when you go for wood?"
And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"Why is it that you don't get thin, like the rest of us?"
And Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"Why is it you never hear the bark of Old Hungry-Wolf?"
And Mr. 'Possum said, very weakly:
"I did think I heard it a little while ago."
Then they all said:
"And was that why you went down after wood?"
And once more Mr. 'Possum couldn't say a word.
Then they all said:
"What have you got down there to eat? And where do you keep it?"
Then Mr. 'Possum seemed to think of something, and picked up the two little barrel staves and brought them over to the fire and put them on, and looked very friendly, and sat down and lit his pipe and smoked a minute, and said that climbing the stairs had overcome him a little, and that he wasn't feeling very well, but if they'd let him breathe a minute he'd tell them all about it, and how he had been preparing a nice surprise for them, for just such a time as this; but when he saw they had found out something, it all came on him so sudden that, what with climbing the stairs and all, he couldn't quite gather himself, but that he was all right now, and the surprise was ready.
"Of course you know," Mr. 'Possum said, "that I have travelled a good deal, and have seen a good many kinds of things happen, and know about what to expect. And when I saw how fast we were using up the food, and how deep the snow was, I knew we might expect a famine that even Mr. Crow's johnny-cake and gravy wouldn't last through; and Mr. Crow mentioned something of the kind once himself, though he seemed to forget it right away again, for he went on giving us just as much as ever. But I didn't forget about it, and right away I began laying aside in a quiet place some of the things that would keep pretty well, and that we would be glad to have when Old Hungry-Wolf should really come along and we had learned to live on lighter meals and could make things last."
Mr. 'Possum was going right on, but Mr. 'Coon interrupted him, and said that Mr. 'Possum could call it living on lighter meals if he wanted to but that he hadn't eaten any meal at all for three days, and that if Mr. 'Possum had put away anything for a hungry time he wished he'd get it out right now, without any more explaining, for it was food that he wanted and not explanations, and all the others said so too.
Then Mr. 'Possum said he was just coming to that, but he only wished to say a few words about it because they had seemed to think that he was doing something that he shouldn't, when he was really trying to save them from Old Hungry-Wolf, and he said he had kept his surprise as long as he could, so it would last longer, and that he had been pretending not to hear Old Hungry's bark just to keep their spirits up, and he supposed one of the reasons why he hadn't got any thinner was because he hadn't been so worried, and had kept happy in the nice surprise he had all the time, just saving it for when they would begin to need it most. As to what he had been chewing and swallowing when he came up-stairs, Mr. 'Possum said that he had been taking just the least little taste of some of the things to see if they were keeping well – some nice cooked chickens, for instance, from a lot that Mr. Crow had on hand and didn't remember about, and a young turkey or two, and a few ducks, and a bushel or so of apples, and a half a barrel of doughnuts, and —