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"What! Are you my Cuffy?" his father exclaimed. For he knew Cuffy at
last. You see, the bees hadn't stung Cuffy's _voice_. And in no time at
all Cuffy was tucked into his little bed and his mother was gently
licking his poor, aching face with her tongue. Among bears that is
thought to be the very best thing to do for bee-stings.
After a while Cuffy stopped crying. And it was not long before he had
fallen asleep.
But it was two days before Cuffy Bear felt really himself again. And
then his father went off into the forest with him and Cuffy led the way
to the bee-tree; for Mr. Bear knew enough about bees so that he could
take their honey away from them without getting stung badly. He didn't
mind just a _few_ stings, you know.
Well--what do you think happened? When they came to the old tree Mr.
Bear took just one look at the nest into which Cuffy had thrust his
paw. And then he began to laugh, though he was somewhat disappointed, as
you will see.
"Those aren't bees!" he told Cuffy. "That's a hornets' nest!... We'd get
no honey there."
XIX
THE LITTLE BEAR PETER
One day late in the summer Cuffy Bear went blackberrying. And on his way
home he stopped at the deep pool where the hornets had chased him. He
stayed there for a little while to watch the speckled trout as their
bright sides flashed out of the depths of the clear water. As Cuffy
stood on the big boulder and looked down, he could see himself quite
plainly, reflected in the still surface of the water. He waved a paw.
And the little bear in the brook waved _his_ paw too. Of course Cuffy
knew that it was himself he saw. But he pretended for a time that it was
some other little bear who was playing with him. And he was having lots
of fun.
[Illustration: Cuffy Received a Slap on His Nose]
You see, Mr. Bear's family was the only bear family for miles and miles
around. And Cuffy often wished he had other little boy-bears to play
with. To be sure, he had his sister, Silkie. But she was a girl, and
younger than he was, besides.
Well! Cuffy danced a jig on the top of the big boulder. And the little
bear down below danced a jig, too. And Cuffy waved his paw again at the
little bear in the water. And once more the little bear in the water
waved a paw at _him_. It was great sport. And then Cuffy happened to
look up.
To his great surprise, there stood a little bear on the other bank of
the brook, right opposite. Cuffy was astonished. The other little bear
and the little bear in the brook looked as much alike as two peas.
Cuffy had never known that he could see a picture of himself by looking
anywhere except into water. It was very strange, he thought. He waved a
paw. And the little bear on the other bank waved _his_ paw. Cuffy kicked
up one of his hind legs. And the other little bear kicked up, too.
Cuffy was puzzled. Was it really himself he was looking at? He nodded
his head. And the other little bear nodded _his_ head.
Then Cuffy tried something else. He stared very hard at the little bear
opposite him, and called "Hello!"
"Hello, yerself!" the other little bear said. And then Cuffy knew that
it was a real, live boy-bear over there, and not just a reflection of
himself. Cuffy was so delighted that he jumped down off the boulder and
splashed through the brook, he was in such a hurry to get over there
where the strange bear stood.
"What's yer name?" the strange bear asked.
Cuffy told him. And he learned that the strange bear's name was Peter,
and that he lived around on the other side of Blue Mountain, as many as
ten miles away.
"Aw--call me _Pete_," the new bear said, as Cuffy began to talk to him.
"They all calls me Pete." He stuffed his front paws into the pockets of
his ragged trousers. "Say, Cuff--what was yer doin' up on that rock?"
"Playing!" Cuffy told him.
Pete gave a grunt. "That's no way ter play," he said. "I'll show yer how
ter have fun. Watch me!" He led the way to the bank. And sitting down,
he slid and rolled all the way down the steep slope and landed _plump!_
in the deep pool.
Now, Cuffy was not going to have Pete think that he couldn't do that,
too. Although he was wearing his best trousers that day (for his mother
was mending his every-day pair), Cuffy sat down on the top of the bank.
And in another moment he had slid and slipped down the bank and landed
_ker-splash!_ in the water.
XX
LEARNING TO BOX
For some time Cuffy Bear and his new friend Pete, as he preferred to be
called, continued to slide down the bank of the brook into the water.
They became plastered with mud from head to foot. And Cuffy's best
trousers had two big holes in them. But Cuffy was having a splendid
time.
"Let's box, Cuff!" Pete exclaimed, after a while.
"What's that?" Cuffy asked. He liked to be called "Cuff." Nobody had
ever called him by that name before. He felt quite grown up.
"I'll show yer," Pete said. "Stand up in front of me."
Cuffy stood up on his hind legs.
"Now, hold up yer paws--so."
And Cuffy did as he was told.
"Now hit me!" Pete ordered.
And Cuffy struck out at his new friend. But to his surprise he didn't
succeed in touching Pete at all. Instead, he received a stinging slap
right on the end of his nose.
Cuffy didn't like that. In fact, it made him somewhat angry. And he
struck out at Pete once more. But Pete dodged; and he gave Cuffy a good,
hard blow in the eye. And while Cuffy was holding onto his poor eye,
Pete hit his other eye. And then Cuffy couldn't see a thing, except
bright spots that made him think of stars. He tried not to cry. But a
few tears _would_ go rolling down his cheeks. And he did not like it at
all when Pete began to laugh.
"Huh! Don't be a cry-baby!" Pete said. "Yer want ter learn ter box,
don't yer?"
"Y-es!" Cuffy answered.
"Well--quit yer cryin' and stand up here, then," Pete commanded.
So once more Cuffy straightened up and held his paws in front of him.
And when he thought Pete wasn't watching, Cuffy tried again to hit him.
Again Cuffy missed. His paw didn't reach Pete at all. But Pete gave him
a terrible poke right in the stomach, and Cuffy sat down quickly on the
ground and began to groan.
Pete sat down on the ground too and he looked at Cuffy and grinned.
"Want any more?" he asked.
Cuffy shook his head.
"I'll have to go home now," he said. "Of course, I'd like to box some
more; but I haven't time to-day."
"First lesson's over, then," Pete announced. "Come back termorrer and
I'll give yer another."
"How long will it be before I learn to box well?" Cuffy inquired.
"You might learn next time," Pete said, "Better try it, anyhow," he
advised.
"All right!" Cuffy said. He hoped that another time he would be able to
show Pete how it felt to be pounded. "All right--I'll be here at the
same time to-morrow."
So Pete trotted off spryly in one direction; and Cuffy trotted off in
another, but not quite so spryly, for his head ached and one of his eyes
was closed tight.
"Mercy sakes!" Mrs. Bear said, when Cuffy came into the house. "Look at
those trousers!"
Cuffy looked at them as well as he could with his one good eye.
"And you're _covered_ with mud!" his mother added severely. "What's the
matter with your eye?" she demanded.
"I've been having fun--" Cuffy began. "I've been boxing--"
"Fun! Boxing! You've _ruined_ your best trousers," she said. "You're a
naughty little bear and you're going straight to bed. Who has been
playing with you?" she asked.
Mrs. Bear was very much displeased when she learned about Cuffy's new
friend. "I know who he is," she said. "His people are very rough.
They're not nice bears at all. And I forbid you aver to play with that
Peter again."
So Cuffy had to go to bed. And the next day when Pete arrived at the
pool he found no Cuffy there. For some time he waited. But still there
was no Cuffy.
"Huh!" Pete grunted, as he went away at last. "He's afraid, he is. And
it's a good thing for him he didn't come back. If he had, I'd 'a' fixed
him. Yes, sir! I'd--" Whatever it was that Peter would have done to
Cuffy, I am sure it wouldn't have been at all pleasant, because the
rough little bear Peter scowled frightfully as he trotted off.
XXI
THE FOREST FIRE
It was quite late in the fall. And Blue Mountain looked very different
from the way it had looked all summer. The leaves had turned to brown
and yellow and scarlet, except where there were clumps of fir-trees, as
there were around Mr. Bear's house. Indeed, Blue Mountain looked almost
as if it were all aflame, so bright were the autumn colors. Mr. Bear
remarked as much to Mrs. Bear one day.
"For goodness' sake, don't say that!" she exclaimed. "Don't mention fire
to me. The very thought of it makes me nervous. Everything's _so_ dry!
I shall be glad when it rains again."
"It _is_ dry," Mr. Bear agreed. "But don't worry. It's like this every
fall." And he went slowly down the mountain.
Cuffy and Silkie were playing together that morning. Cuffy was teaching
Silkie to box, though, to be sure, he knew very little about boxing. But
he found it easy to tap Silkie on the nose. And he had tapped her so
hard that Mrs. Bear heard a sound very much like quarreling; and she
came to the door to see what was the trouble.
Mrs. Bear was just going to call to her children, when she noticed a
peculiar odor in the air. And she stood quite still, and sniffed, just
as Cuffy had when he smelled the haymakers' lunch. You remember that the
more Cuffy sniffed, the less alarmed he had been. But it was different
with Mrs. Bear. The longer she stood there, with her nose twitching, and
snuffing up the air, the more uneasy she became. And pretty soon she saw
something that gave her a great start.
It was something white that Mrs. Bear saw, and it hung over the
tree-tops; and where the wind had caught it it was spun out thin, like a
veil.
It was exactly what Mrs. Bear had feared--it was smoke! The forest was
afire! And Mrs. Bear was very much alarmed. She sent Cuffy and Silkie
into the house, because she wanted to be sure that they wouldn't wander
off into the woods. And then their mother stood in the doorway and
watched. She was looking for Mr. Bear. While she waited there the smoke
kept rising more and more until there were great clouds of it; and at
last Mrs. Bear could see red flames licking up to the tops of the trees.
Several deer came bounding past, and a great number of rabbits and
squirrels. And then followed other animals that couldn't run so
fast--such as raccoons, and skunks, and woodchucks. Not for years had
Mrs. Bear seen so many of the forest-people--and they were all so
frightened, and in such a hurry to get away from the fire, that not one
of them noticed Mrs. Bear as she stood in her doorway.
"Where are they going, Mother?" It was Cuffy who asked the question. He
had crept up behind his mother and had been looking at the strange sight
for some time.
"They're going over to the lake, on the other side of the mountain,"
Mrs. Bear said.
"Are they going fishing?" Cuffy inquired.
Mrs. Bear shook her head. And then Cuffy squeezed past her and saw what
was happening.
"Oh-h, hurrah! hurrah!" he shouted.
His mother looked at him in astonishment.
"It's father's birthday!" he cried. You remember that Cuffy's mother had
told him that Mr. Bear was born on the day of a great forest fire, and
that he never had a birthday except when the woods caught fire again.
"Now maybe father will bring home another little pig for a feast!" Cuffy
said hopefully.
XXII
THE RAIN COMES
Cuffy Bear was disappointed. For when at last his father came galloping
up to his house he brought no pig with him. Indeed he seemed to have
forgotten that it was his birthday.
"Get the children!" he shouted to Mrs. Bear, as soon as he came in
sight. And pretty soon Cuffy and Silkie and their father and mother were
hurrying along on their way to the lake that lay on the other side of
the mountain.
Cuffy was delighted. He thought that perhaps he would see the naughty
little bear Peter again; for he remembered that Peter lived around the
mountain, right where they were going.
They had travelled several miles when Mr. Bear stopped suddenly. And he
said, "Hah!" And he looked up at the sky. Something had hit him right in
the eye. You might think that Mr. Bear was angry. But no! He was very
glad. For it was a drop of rain that had fallen upon him. And in a few
minutes there were countless drops pattering down. Yes, soon it was
raining hard. And to Cuffy's great disappointment they all started
homewards again, for Mr. Bear knew that the rain would soon put the fire
out.
Mr. Bear had known all the time that his house wouldn't burn; for it was
made of rock, and went straight into the side of the mountain. But he
knew that if the woods all around caught fire it would be several days
before they could go out and get anything to eat, or even a drink of
water. And that was why he had started to lead his family away.
When they were back in their house once more Cuffy could think of only
one thing that would make up for his not having seen the small bear
Peter again. And he climbed up on his father's knees and said--
"Will you go and get a little pig, Father?"
"A _pig_?" Mr. Bear exclaimed. "Well, now--why on earth do you want a
pig? What would you do with a pig?"
"I'd eat it," Cuffy answered promptly. "It's your birthday, you know.
And we ought to have a pig so we can have a real feast."
Mr. Bear smiled. And pretty soon he went out of the house. He was gone a
long time. But at last he came back again, fairly staggering beneath
the load that he carried.
When Cuffy saw what his father dropped down onto the floor he hopped up
and down in his delight. There was no pig there, but Cuffy didn't mind
that. For Mr. Bear had brought home four rabbits, and four squirrels,
and four porcupines, and four raccoons. And Cuffy ate and ate until his
skin grew so tight that he was afraid it would burst. He ate all of one
rabbit, and one squirrel, and one raccoon. But he never touched his
porcupine at all. It made him think of the time he had tried to kill a
porcupine himself, and had got his paws stuck full of quills. But he had
a real feast, just the same.
XXIII
CUFFY BEAR GROWS SLEEPY
Far up Blue Mountain, and down in the valley too, the leaves had long
ago fallen off the trees. And for some time the ground had been white
with snow; for winter had come again. And Cuffy Bear's sister Silkie had
had a birthday-party the very first day it snowed. Cuffy and Silkie
shouted with glee each morning now, when they went out of doors, where
the earth was covered with a snow-blanket. And they played and played
and had just as good a time as little boys and girls have when winter
comes. As they scampered about in the door-yard their feet left tracks
that looked exactly like the foot-prints of barefooted girls and boys.
They played tag, and hide-and-seek, and turned somersaults. And one day,
when Mrs. Bear called them into the house, they ate, each of them,
several quarts of chestnuts which Mr. Bear had gathered and brought
home. In fact, before Mrs. Bear knew it they had eaten a great many more
chestnuts than were good for them. And Cuffy, who had eaten the most,
soon began to have a pain in his stomach.
"That's what you get for being greedy," his mother told him.
"I didn't eat many chestnuts," Cuffy said.
Mrs. Bear pointed to the floor.
"What do you call those?" she asked.
"Chestnut-shells," Cuffy replied, hanging his head. There was a great
heap of shells on the floor where Cuffy had sat.
"Pick them all up--every one of them," his mother ordered. "And when
you have finished you may take a nap--both of you."
Cuffy yawned.
"What do you say?" Mrs. Bear asked severely.
"Excuse me!" Cuffy said hastily.
"That's better!" said Mrs. Bear. "Now do as I say. You'll be asleep
before you know it. And I don't intend to have those chestnut shells
lying on the floor all winter."
You may think that that was a queer thing for Mrs. Bear to say. But when
you see what happened, you'll understand what Mrs. Bear meant.
As Cuffy and Silkie sat down on the floor and began gathering up the
chestnut-shells they both yawned and yawned. And since Mrs. Bear had
left the room they didn't bother to say "Excuse me!" They were _so_
sleepy! And before little Silkie had finished picking up her shells she
just rolled herself up into a round ball and fell fast asleep. As for
Cuffy, being a little older, he managed to stay awake just long enough
to get the floor all nice and clean. And then _he_ rolled himself into a
ball and _he_ went to sleep, right there on the floor.
So Mrs. Bear found them when she came back into the room. She smiled as
she saw them. And picking up first one and then the other she carried
them into their little bed-chamber and put them down gently and covered
them over with leaves, so they would be snug and warm. Yes, Mrs. Bear
wanted her children to be warm, for she knew that they would not wake up
again until spring. She had noticed for several days that Cuffy and
Silkie were growing sleepy. And to tell the truth, Mrs. Bear was
becoming sleepy herself. That very night she and Mr. Bear went to bed a
whole hour earlier than usual. And the next day they never minded at all
how cold it grew outside or how much the wind howled. For not one of Mr.
Bear's family waked up at all! They just slept and slept and slept, the
whole winter long.
THE END
A WORD TO GROWN UPS
To you;--parents, guardians, teachers and all others upon whom devolves
the supremely important responsibility of directing the early years of
development of childhood, this series of TUCK-ME-IN TALES which sketch
such vivid and delightful scenes of the vibrant life of meadow and
woodland should have tremendous appeal. In this collection of stories
you will find precisely the sort of healthy, imaginative entertainment
that is an essential in stimulating thought-germs in the child mind.
Merely from the standpoint of their desirability for helping the growing
tot to pass an idle half hour, any one of these volumes would be worth
your while. But the author had something further than that in mind. He
has, with simplicity and grace, worthy of high commendation, sought to
convey a two-fold lesson throughout the entire series, the first based
upon natural history and the second upon the elementary principles of
living which should be made clear to every child at the earliest age of
understanding.
The first of these aims he has accomplished by adapting every one of his
bird characters to its living counterpart in the realm of biology. The
child learns very definite truths about which the story is woven; learns
in such a fascinating manner that he will not quickly forget, and is
brought into such pleasant intimacy that his immediate sympathy is
aroused.
The author accomplishes the purpose of driving home simple lessons on
good conduct by attributing the many of the same traits of character to
his feathered heroes and heroines that are to be found wherever the
human race made its habitation. The praise-worthy qualities of courage,
love, unselfishness, truth, industry, and humility are portrayed in the
dealings of the field and forest folk and the consequential reward of
these virtues is clearly shown; he also reveals the unhappy results of
greed, jealousy, trickery and other character weaknesses. The effect is
to impress indelibly upon the imagination of the child that certain
deeds are their own desirable reward while certain others are much
better left undone.
If any further recommendation is necessary, would it not be well to
resort to the court of final appeal, the child himself? Simply purchase
a trial copy from your bookseller with the understanding that if it
meets with the disapproval of the little man or woman for whom it is
intended, he will accept its return.
THE TALE OF JOLLY ROBIN
Of course, there is a time when Jolly Robin is only a nestling. Then one
day, after he tumbles out of the apple tree and falls squawking and
fluttering to the ground, he takes his first lesson in flying. So
pleased is Jolly to know that he can actually sail through the air on
his wings, that he goes out into the wide, wide world to shift for
himself. One day, after advising with Jimmy Rabbit, he decides to become
general laugh-maker to the inhabitants of Pleasant Valley, and he
becomes one of Mother Nature's happiest little feathered folk, going
about trying to make things a bit better in the world. True, he falls
into many blunders and has many strange experiences, but his intentions
are always the best, remember.
Slyly tucked away in this story of Jolly Robin and of his adventures, is
much bird lore and philosophy,--both instructive and entertaining.
THE TALE OF BETSY BUTTERFLY
Betsy Butterfly is the owner of a pair of such beautifully colored wings
and her sweet disposition matches them so perfectly that it is a very
common occurrence to hear one of the tiny dwellers in Farmer Green's
meadow remark: "Why, the sun just has to smile on her!" Of course, any
lady so gifted is bound to have many admirers and Betsy is no exception.
But there are a few of her acquaintances who cannot keep from showing
their jealousy of her popularity and these try in various unkind ways
to make her disliked. The story of how she politely overlooks these rude
attempts, in that way causing herself to be all the more thought of, is
the best sort of example to any human girl or boy who wishes to know how
to be sure of making friends. You will find that Betsy is a great girl
for giving parties and perhaps she will give you a few valuable ideas
that will be useful sometime when you have a party of your own.
BUSTER BUMBLEBEE
Buster's intentions are all very good, but he is so awkward and stupid
that he constantly stumbles into trouble, thereby causing his
acquaintances much unnecessary discomfiture and himself no end of
embarrassment. He is, furthermore, a terrific boaster, as you will learn
when you read of his many declarations of the pummeling he would give
the ferocious Robber Fly, if ever he chanced to meet that devouring
assassin. What Buster actually does when the unexpected encounter takes
place will afford you a good laugh at his expense, and, finally, after
you have romped and dallied with him through his many happy excursions
you will close the book with a feeling that it has done you good to have
known him, lazy and blundering though he is, for he is indeed the best
natured fellow, and he is so anxious to buzz into everything that
attracts his attention that you find you have learned a great many
things you never before dreamed of about the tiny creatures of the
fields.
THE TALE OF FREDDIE FIREFLY
Freddie Firefly is most anxious to lighten the cares of his friends in
Pleasant Valley for he is a most unselfish fellow and enjoys nothing
more than seeing other people as happy as he. He has one grave fault,
however, that prevents him from being a very great help, and that is his
inability to remain long in one place. He is so full of spry gaiety that
he never can be quite content unless he is dancing with his relatives in
the hollow near the swamp or darting about Farmer Green's lawn. His
friends often give him advice as to how he may use the wonderful light
which he always carries with him, and finally Mrs. Ladybug tells him he
should go to the railroad and work as a signal-man for the trains. You
will hold your breath as you read about the exciting adventure that
follows this suggestion, and you will no doubt agree with those to whom
he later tells it that he is a very lucky Freddie to escape.
THE TALE OF RUSTY WREN
Rusty Wren is another little neighbor in Pleasant Valley. His particular
home there is Farmer Green's yard where he lives in a bright shiny home
which is really a tin can with a hole in it! And dear me! I forgot all
about Rusty Wren's family--his wife and six baby children who had to be
given Wren food by Rusty and little Chippy, Jr. You will laugh heartily
when you read about Chippy growing so big and fat that he gets stuck in
Rusty's tiny doorway and can't get pulled out. My, what an exciting time
it was! And you will laugh again when you watch Rusty Wren go 'way over
to the bank of Black Creek all ready for a party when there really is no
party. Yes, you will agree with Farmer Green's boy and the rest of our
friends in Pleasant Valley that Rusty certainly is a very interesting
little neighbor.
THE TALE OF DADDY LONG-LEGS
Daddy is a person of such unusual appearance with his eight scrawny legs
in contrast to ordinary people's two, and everything about his private
life is such a mystery to his neighbors that his acquaintances give him
credit for having a marvelous ability to look into the future. In fact,
there are many two-legged humans, even to-day, who think he is a sort of
soothsayer and mystery man. Perhaps, if you are one of these, you will
be inclined to change your mind after reading about his contest with Old
Mr. Crow to see which is really the wiser of the two. And would you not
naturally suppose that anybody with so many legs to carry him would be
the champion walker of the world? Maybe Daddy finds that it takes time
to decide which of his feet he should put forward in taking the next
step, or may be each separate foot has a notion of its own as to the
direction Daddy should choose; at any rate, he proves to be the slowest
traveler imaginable. But he is so popular among his neighbors and you
will like him too--he has so many quaint ideas.
THE TALE OF KIDDIE KATYDID
Kiddy Katydid and his relatives were in possession of a secret that none
of the Pleasant Valley folk can solve, though they waste much time and
energy trying to guess it. Even to this day it is doubtful if anyone
other than Kiddie himself really knows what Katy did! But his friends
are a curious lot and they work their brains over-time to think of some
scheme to make Kiddie tell. If you want to know what they do
accidentally discover about Kiddie himself and how excited every body
becomes as the rare news spreads from mouth to mouth, you will find
that and many other remarkable things about him in this interesting
story of his life in the Maple tree that grows in Farmer Green's yard.
You will like Kiddie. He is very modest and retiring--behaving very much
as any well raised youngster should, and when you understand just how it
happens that he keeps repeating that funny remark about Katy, you can
join him in the hearty laugh he has on his friends.
THE TALE OF OLD MR. CROW
Mr. Crow has a very solemn look--unless you regard him closely. But it
is a very sly, knowing look, if you take pains to stare boldly into his
eyes. Like many human beings, he is fond of clothes, and he particularly
likes gay ones, but perhaps that is because he is so black himself.
Anyhow, so long as he can wear a bright red coat and a yellow
necktie--or a bright red necktie and a yellow coat--he is generally
quite happy. One fall Mr. Crow decides to stay in Pleasant Valley during
the winter, instead of going South, and he remembers all at once that he
will need some warm clothing. Now, Mr. Frog, the tailor, and Jimmy
Rabbit, the shoemaker, know just how to talk to Mr. Crow to sell their
merchandise, playing upon his vanity to buy the latest, and even to "set
the styles," but they have to be pretty keen and sly to get the best of
Mr. Crow in the end. Mr. Crow has his good points as well as his bad
ones, and he helps Farmer Green a lot more than he injures him it is
said. Nevertheless, Farmer Green does not figure that way,--and in
justice to old "Jim Crow," you should read of his adventures for
yourself.
THE TALE OF SOLOMON OWL
All the folks down in Pleasant Valley know Solomon Owl. Well, it's this
way. If you hear Solomon Owl on a dark night when his "Wha-Wha!
Whoo-ah!" sends a chill 'way up your spine, and if you see him you can
never forget him, either. He has great, big, staring eyes that make you
feel queer when you look at his pale face. No, sir, little folks like
Mr. Frog, the tailor, certainly don't like to have any visits from
Solomon Owl when Solomon has a fine appetite. To be sure, Farmer Green
isn't happy when Solomon steals some of his fine chickens, and neither
are the chickens for that matter. But Solomon doesn't have all the fun
on some one else. Oh no! Reddy Woodpecker knows how to tease him by
tapping with his bill on Solomon's wooden house in the daytime, when
every owl likes to sleep and dream of all the nice frogs and fat
chickens they are going to feast on the next night, and then, out comes
Solomon all blinking with his big, black eyes. But this wise owl, who
really isn't as wise as he looks, you know, finds a good way to fool
Reddy and the rest of the folks who like to annoy him, and lives his own
happy life.
THE TALE OF JASPER JAY
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