The Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book

"But those children never wanted to learn anything, and never thought about even knowing their letters, until one day Father 'Coon came home from town with a brand new shiny tin plate with the alphabet around on the edge of it. When they saw that they all made a grab for it and claimed it, but Father 'Coon held it up high and said that it was for the one that first learned his letters. He said that they were to take turns using it, a different one each time, and whoever was using it could study his letters while he was eating. He said that when it had been all around once he would see who knew the most letters and would give it to him the next time, and so on, and the first one who knew all of them should have it for his own, to keep.

"Well, the first night he gave it to a fellow named Bushy and sat down by him and told him the letters over and over, and all the rest leaned across the table and looked on instead of eating, all except one fellow, named Smart, who was good at learning things by heart, and he just listened and ate, too. He did that right along every meal till it came his turn, and then he pretended to look very close, but all the time he was only saying the letters over and over in his head and laughing to himself to think how he was going to surprise everybody when the time came to see who knew the most.

"And that's just what he did do. For when the plate had gone clear around and Father 'Coon called them all up one night after supper to see who could tell the most letters on it, some only knew three and some four, and some of them knew six, but when it came Smart's turn he commenced when Father 'Coon pointed to A, and said every one clear through to & just as fast as he could say them. Then the others all began to cry, and Smart took the plate and walked off with it into the next room and sat down and was saying the alphabet over and over, when all at once Bushy happened to notice that when Smart pointed out the letters for himself and said them he was just as apt to begin any place else as at A, and that he only knew them by heart and didn't know a single one when he saw it.

"Of course that made Bushy mad, and he ran out and told the rest that Smart didn't know his alphabet at all, and that he couldn't even tell A when it was by itself, and all the others set up a great fuss, too. They said he had to go out with the plate to Father 'Coon again, and Smart said he wouldn't do it; that it was his plate, and that he had said his letters once and didn't intend to say them again for anybody. Then Bushy grabbed the plate and said it was his, because he knew six letters, and then a little fellow named Stripe grabbed it away from Bushy because he knew six letters, too, and pretty soon they all got into a regular fight over it, and made such an awful noise that Grandmother 'Coon thought the tree was falling down, and came running in, and when she saw what they were fighting over she grabbed it away from all of them and opened the window and flung it out just as hard as ever she could fling it.

"And the tin plate went sailing and shining right straight up in the air, and kept on sailing and shining till it got to the sky; and then, of course, it couldn't get any further, but it went right on sailing and shining in the sky, and has been there, sailing and shining, ever since.

"And that," said Mr. 'Coon, "that's the moon!"

"Oh, pshaw!" said the 'Possum.

"What made those dark spots on it?" said the Rabbit.

Mr. 'Coon didn't know what to say to that just at first, and then he happened to think.

"Why," he said, "that's where they rubbed the tin off fighting over it."

"Nonsense!" said the Rabbit.

THE SECOND MOON STORY

MR. 'POSSUM HAS SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT THE MOON WHICH SHEDS NEW LIGHT ON THE SUBJECT

This is the story told by Mr. 'Possum when he and Mr. 'Coon and Jack Rabbit sat on the edge of the world and hung their feet over and looked at the moon: —

"Well," said Mr. 'Possum, "a good many years ago, when there were a great many more chickens than there are now, and Mr. Man took good care of them for us and let them roost in trees instead of locking them up every night in an unhealthy little pen, my folks used to go around sometimes after Mr. Man had gone to bed, and look them over and pick out what they wanted for the next day.

"I don't know why we ever began the custom of picking out our victuals at night that way, when it was dark and dangerous, but somehow we always did it, and have kept it up ever since."

"Humph!" said the 'Coon.

"Yes," continued Mr. 'Possum, "that was before there was any moon, and the nights were always dark. It wasn't a good time to choose food, and very often my folks made a mistake and got a seven-year-old bantam hen instead of a spring pullet, which is about the same size.

"This happened so much that by and by a very wise 'Possum, named Smoothe, said that if they would keep him in chickens of a youthful and tender sort he would fix up a light, so they could see and know what they were doing. They all agreed to do it, and that night Smoothe built a big fire in the top of a tall tree and sat up there and 'tended to it until nearly morning, and my folks brought home the finest lot of chickens that Mr. Man had raised for them in a good many years.

"Well, there was never any trouble after that to pick out young meat, and Smoothe kept the fire going nights and ate a good deal and got pretty fat, so that he didn't like to work, and kept planning some way to make his job easier. He wanted to find a light that he wouldn't have to 'tend to and keep piling wood on all night. He thought about this for a long time, and used to fall asleep and dream about it, and once he let the fire go out, and fell out of the tree and nearly gave up his job altogether.

"Well, while he was getting well he had a good deal of company, and one day a top-knot crow named Dusk came to see him. Now, you know that our friend Mr. Crow is a wise bird to-day, but in the old times a top-knot crow was wiser than anything that now flies or walks, and Dusk was a very old bird. He knew a great deal about Mr. Man and his ways, and he told Smoothe that he had seen in Mr. Man's pantry, where he went sometimes, a light that would not go out during a whole night, and that had a big bright something behind it that would throw the light in any direction. Dusk, who used to carry off almost everything he saw, whether he wanted it or not, said that he thought he might carry this light off if Smoothe would be willing to let him have a few chickens for a party he was going to give.

"Smoothe told him he might take his pick out of his share of the chickens for the next six months if he would only bring that light, and Dusk didn't waste any time, but brought it the very next evening.

"It was a beautiful light, and Smoothe fastened it to the tip top of the tall tree, so that it would swing in any direction, and the bright round thing behind it threw the light just where he wanted it. It burned oil, and he used to fill it up with chicken oil in the evening and it would burn all night and make a better light than the fire ever did. So all he had to do was to keep it filled and turned in the direction that my folks were harvesting their chicken crop, and then he could go to bed and sleep all night if he wanted to.

"And that's just what he did do. And one night while he was asleep there came up a terrible storm. Of course, if Smoothe had been awake he would have taken the light down; but he wasn't awake, and the first he knew he heard broken limbs falling and crashing all around, and he jumped up and ran out just in time to see the tip top of the lamp tree break off, lamp and all, and go whirling round and round, right straight up in the air till it got to the sky, and there it stuck fast. It never went out, either, but kept on turning round and round and giving light in different directions at different times in the month.

"And that," said Mr. 'Possum, "is the moon. And you don't always see it because sometimes the bright reflecting thing is turned in the other direction. And when it's turned part way round you see part of it, and it's always been so ever since that night Smoothe went to sleep and the storm came up and carried it off."

"Humph!" said the 'Coon.

"What makes those spots on it, then?" said the Rabbit.

"Why," said Mr. 'Possum, thinking as quick as he could, "those – those are – are some leaves that blew against the reflecting thing and stayed there."

"Nonsense!" said the Rabbit.

ON THE EDGE OF THE WORLD

MR. RABBIT HAS SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT THE MOON, DURING WHICH HE EXPLAINS THE SPOTS ON IT

This is the story that Mr. Jack Rabbit told to Mr. 'Coon and Mr. 'Possum when they sat together on the edge of the world and hung their feet over and looked at the moon. After Mr. 'Possum had finished his story, the Rabbit leaned back and swung his feet over the Big Nowhere awhile, thinking. Then he began.

"Well," he said, "my folks used to live in the moon."

"Humph!" said the 'Coon.

"Nonsense!" said the 'Possum.

"Yes," said Jack Rabbit, "they did. The moon is a world, away over on the other side of the Big Nowhere, and it doesn't stand still and stay top side up like this world, but keeps moving about and turning over, so that you have to look sharp and hang on tight to keep from falling off when it tips bottom side up, or is standing on its edge as it is to-night. My folks used to live there and Mr. Dog's folks used to live there, too. That was a long time ago, before Mr. Dog ever went to live with Mr. Man, and he was big and savage and had no more manners than he has now.

"My folks never could and never did get along with Mr. Dog's folks worth a cent, but they could mostly beat Mr. Dog's folks running, so they didn't have to associate with him unless they wanted to."

"Of course Mr. Dog's family didn't like that, for they thought they were just as good as we were, and they used to hide and watch for us, and when we came by jump out and try to keep up with us for as much as two or three miles sometimes, just as Mr. Dog tried to keep up with me the other day, which you may remember."

The 'Possum and 'Coon grinned to themselves and nodded.

"Well," continued Mr. Rabbit, "there are some laws of etiquette – which means politeness – up there in the Moon, and they are very strict. The Old Man in the Moon makes these laws, and when one of them is broken he makes the one that breaks it just go right on doing whatever it is for nine hundred and ninety-nine years, and sometimes a good deal longer when it's a worse break than usual.

"Now the very strictest of all these laws used to be the one about Mr. 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."

"Well, one day in the spring, when my family was out for an airing and a little sunshine, 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."

"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 'Coon 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 'Coon. "Sure enough!"