The Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book

All at once he happened to remember that Jack Rabbit, who was the big man of the party, was also a first rate poet, and liked to read his own poetry better than anything. So, when he thought of that, he said:

"I'll tell you. We'll have a poetry club."

And of course that made Mr. Rabbit wake up right away.

"What's that?" he said. "What kind of a thing is a poetry club?"

"Why," said Mr. Crow, "it's a place where the members each write a poem and read it at the next meeting. You're the only real, sure enough poet, of course, and will be president, and write the best poem, but the rest of us can try, and you can tell us our mistakes. I've heard that Mr. Man has them, and they're ever so much fun."

Jack Rabbit thought so, too, and all the others liked the plan. So they elected Mr. Rabbit president and then went to work on their poems. They couldn't have the first meeting very soon, for it took longer to write poems in those days than it does now, so before they got half ready the news got out some way, and even Mr. Dog had heard of it.

Poor Mr. Dog! It made him really quite ill to think he wasn't on very good terms with the Hollow Tree people, for he thought he could write pretty nice poetry, too, and he wanted to belong to that club worse than anything he could think of. He wanted to so bad that at last he told Mr. Robin that if they'd just let him come he'd promise anything they asked.

They didn't want to let him, though, until Mr. Crow, who always felt kind of sorry for Mr. Dog, said he didn't see why Mr. Dog shouldn't come and look in through the window shutters, and that they could nail a seat for him on a limb just outside. They could pull him up to it with a rope and he could sit there and listen and applaud the poems all through without being able to do any damage to the poets, and he would be glad enough to be let down by the time they got done reciting.

So they sent him an invitation, and Mr. Dog was as happy as a king. He went right to work on his poem, and he worked all night and walked up and down the yard all day trying to think up rhymes for "joyful" and "meeting," and a lot of other nice words. Even when he was asleep he dreamed about it, and said over some of the lines out loud and jerked his paws about as if he were reciting it and making motions. You see, Mr. Dog hadn't always done just right by the Hollow Tree people, and he was anxious to make a good impression and fix up things. He fixed himself all up, too, when the night came for the meeting, and took his poem under his arm and lit a cigar that he'd borrowed of Mr. Man for the occasion, and away he went.

The Hollow Tree people were on the lookout for him and had the rope down and ready. So Mr. Dog tied it around under his arms, and they pulled and pulled, and up he came. Then, when he got pretty close to the window, they closed the shutter and put the rope through and pulled him up still a little higher, so that he could reach the seat on the limb, which was fixed just right for him to sit there and lean on the window sill while he listened and looked in.

Of course, Mr. Dog wished he was inside, like the others, but he knew why he wasn't, and he was glad enough to be there at all. He peeked through the slats at the big room and smiled and said some nice things about how pretty the room looked, till they all got real sociable with him. Then Jack Rabbit called the meeting to order and made a few remarks.

He said the duties of his office had kept him from writing quite as long and as good a poem as he would have liked to write, but that he hoped they might be willing to hear what he had done. Then they all shouted, "Yes, yes!" and "Hear, hear!" and Mr. Rabbit bowed first to the ones inside and then to Mr. Dog outside, and began:

THE JOYS OF POETRYBY J. RABBITOh, sweet the joys of poetryIn the merry days of spring,When the dew is on the meadowAnd the duck is on the wing!For 'tis then, from Dan to Dover,I'm a rover 'mid the clover,Seeking rhymes the country overWith a ring, sing, swing —With a ding, dong, ding,And a ting a ling a ling —For I'm the rhyming rover of the spring.Oh, sweet the joys of poetryIn the pleasant summer time!For 'tis then I have no troubleTo compose my gentle rhyme;In a nooklet by the brookletI can think up quite a booklet,As with fishing line and hookletI assist the fish to climbTo the music of my chime,For with rollick and with rhymeI'm the poet of the pleasant summer time.Oh, sweet the joys of poetryWhen any days have come,When the autumn zephyrs whisperOr the winter breezes hum!For 'tis then my thoughts unfurling,While the smoke goes upward curling,Come a whirling, swirling, twirling,With a rumty, tumty, turn,Come a twirling, swirling, whirling,Like the rattle of a drum.Come a whirling, come a swirling;For in spring or in the summer,In the autumn or the winterI'm the rumty, tumty, tummerThat rejoices in the seasons as they come.

Well, when Mr. Rabbit got through everybody sat still for a minute, till Mr. Dog called out for somebody to come and unwind him so he could get his breath again. Then they all commenced to laugh and shout and pound on the table. And Mr. Rabbit coughed and looked pleased and said it was easy enough to do when you knew how.

Then Mr. 'Possum, who was next on the program, said he hoped they'd let him off this time because he could only think of four lines, and that he was a better hand at the dinner table than he was at poetry, anyway. But they wouldn't do it, so he got up and looked foolish and swallowed two or three times before he could get started.

WHAT I LOVEBY A. PUFFINGTON 'POSSUMI love the fragrant chicken pieThat blooms in early spring;I love a chicken stew or fry,Or any old thing.

Mr. 'Possum's poem was short, but it went right to the spot, and the way they applauded almost made Jack Rabbit jealous. He said that it was 'most too true to be good poetry, but that it was good for a first effort, and that being short helped it. Then Mr. Robin spoke his piece:

MOTHER AND MEBY C. ROBINWhen the bud breaks out on the maple boughMother and me we build our nest —A twig from the yard and a wisp from the mowAnd four blue eggs 'neath the mother breast.Up in the tree, mother and me,Happy and blithe and contented are we.When the daisies fall and the roses die,An empty nest in the boughs to swing —Four young robins that learn to flyAnd a sweet adieu till another spring.Then up in the tree, mother and me,Happy once more and contented we'll be.

The applause wasn't so loud after Mr. Robin's poem, but they all said it was very pretty, and Mr. 'Possum even wiped his eyes with his handkerchief, because it made him remember something sad. Mr. Rabbit said that it ought to be "Mother and I," but that it didn't make much difference, he supposed, about grammar, so long as it rhymed and sounded nice. Then Mr. Crow got up.

JUST NOTHINGBY J. CROWWhile others may sing of the pleasures of spring,Or winter or summer or fall,I'll sing not of these, because, if you please,I'll sing of just nothing at all.Just nothing at all, because, oh, ho!I'll sing of myself, an old black crow.As black as a coal and as homely as sin —What more can I tell you, I pray?For when you have nothing to sing of, why, then,Of course there is nothing to say.Nothing to say at all, oh, ho!Except goodby to the old black crow —The rollicking old black crow!

They made a good deal of fuss over Mr. Crow's poem. They applauded, of course, but they said it wasn't so at all, and that Mr. Crow was a good deal more than "just nothing." They said that it was he who had got up this party, and that he was the best man to plan and cook anywhere. Mr. 'Possum said he even liked Mr. Crow's April fool chicken pies, and then they all remembered and laughed, even to Mr. Crow himself. After that it was Mr. Squirrel's turn. Mr. Squirrel coughed twice and straightened his vest before he began, so they knew his poem wasn't to be funny.

THE FOOLISH LITTLE LADBY MR. GRAY SQUIRRELOnce on a time, the story goes,A silly squirrel ladOne summer day did run away —Which made his ma feel bad.She hunted for him up and downAnd round and round she ran —Alas, that foolish squirrel boyWas caught by Mr. Man.For he had tried to climb a treeAs Mr. Man came past."I'll make you climb!" said Mr. Man,And walked home pretty fast.When he got there a boy came outAs Mr. Man went in.That silly squirrel soon was putInto a house of tin."Now you can climb!" said Mr. Man,But when he did he foundThat nice tin house, so bright and new,Turned round and round and round.And there he climbs and climbs all dayAnd never seems to stop,And I have heard my mother sayHe'll never reach the top.

When Mr. Squirrel sat down there wasn't a dry eye in the room, and even Mr. Dog outside was affected. He said he'd seen that poor little squirrel at Mr. Man's house turning and turning away in his tin wheel, and felt so sorry for him that two or three times he'd tried to get him out. He said, though, that Mr. Man had always caught him at it and that then they didn't get on well for a day or two. He was so tender-hearted, though, he said, that he couldn't help pitying the little fellow, climbing and climbing all day long and never getting anywhere. Mr. 'Possum shivered, and said it reminded him of bad dreams he'd had sometimes, when he'd eaten too much supper, and dreamed of climbing the rainbow. Then they all sat still and waited for Mr. Turtle, who came next.

MY SNUG HOUSEBY D'LAND TURTLEOh, what do I care for your houses of wood,Your houses of brick or of stone,When I have a house that is cosy and good —A beautiful house of my own?And the doors will not sag and the roof will not crackOf the house that I carry about on my back.It is never too large and 'tis never too small,It is with me wherever I roam.In spring or in summer, in winter or fall,I always can find my way home.For it isn't so hard to remember the trackTo the house that you carry about on your back.

Well, of course, everybody applauded that, and then it was Mr. 'Coon's time. Mr. 'Coon said he was like Mr. 'Possum. He wasn't much on poetry, and only had four lines. He said they were some like Mr. 'Possum's, too.

THE BEST THINGSBY Z. COONI like the spring, I like the fall,I like the cold and heat,And poems, too, but best of allI like good things to eat.

That brought the house down, and the Hollow Tree people thought the entertainment was over. They were going to have supper right away, but Mr. Dog called out to wait a minute. He said he had a little poem himself that he wanted to read. So out of politeness they all sat still, though they didn't expect very much. Then Mr. Dog unrolled his poem and leaned over close to the blinds and commenced to read.

MY FOREST FRIENDSBY MR. DOGOh, dear to me my forest friends,Especially Mr. Rabbit —I love his poetry very much,And every gentle habit.And dear to me is Mr. 'Coon,And also Mr. 'Possum;I hope to win their friendship soon —'Twill be a precious blossom.And Mr. Crow and Robin, too,With fancy sweet and fertile,And Mr. Squirrel, kind and true,And likewise Mr. Turtle.Oh, dear to me my forest friends,Especially Mr. Rabbit —I love his poetry very muchAnd every gentle habit.

Before Mr. Dog was half through reading the Hollow Tree people had gathered around the window to listen. By the time he got to the end of the third stanza he had to stop for them to cheer, and when he read the last one, Jack Rabbit pounded on the shutter with his fist and shouted, "Hurrah for Mr. Dog! Hurrah for Mr. Dog!" just as loud as ever he could, while all the others crowded up and shouted and tried to pound, too.

Well, maybe the shutter wasn't very strong, or maybe they crowded and pounded too hard in their excitement over Mr. Dog's nice poem, for all at once there was a loud crack and the shutter flew open and out went Mr. Rabbit right smack into the arms of Mr. Dog!

I tell you that was pretty sudden and – Mr. Rabbit was scared. So were all the others and they were going to grab the shutter and close it again and leave Mr. Rabbit out there. But Jack Rabbit thinks quick.

"Oh Mr. Dog," he said, "that was the nicest poem I ever heard. Let me embrace you, Mr. Dog, and be your friend forever after!"

Then he hugged Mr. Dog just as tight as he could, and Mr. Dog hugged him, too, and shed tears, he was that happy. He had been wanting to make up with the forest people for a long time, but he hadn't expected this. Then the others all saw how it was and they shouted, "Hurrah for Mr. Dog!" again and invited him in. And Mr. Dog went in and they had the biggest supper and the biggest time that ever was known in the Hollow Tree.

And that's how Mr. Dog got to be friends with all the Hollow Tree people at last. And he stayed friends with them ever and ever so long – and longer – just as long as he lived, for the Mr. Dog that isn't good friends with them now isn't the same Mr. Dog. And he isn't as smart, either, for he can't write poetry, and he's never even been able to find the Hollow Tree, where the 'Coon and 'Possum and the old black Crow live together and every summer keep open house for their friends.

AROUND THE WORLD AND BACK AGAIN

Once upon a time, when Mr. Dog was over spending the evening with the Hollow Tree people, he told them that Mr. Man had said the world was round, like a ball. Of course this was after Mr. Dog got to be good friends with the 'Possum and the 'Coon and the old black Crow, and he often used to come over to the Hollow Tree, where they lived, for a quiet talk and smoke, and to tell the things that Mr. Man said, and did, and what he had on his table for dinner.

The Hollow Tree people liked to hear about Mr. Man, too; but when they heard what he said about the world being round they thought there must be some mistake in the way Mr. Dog had understood it. Mr. 'Coon said that it couldn't be so, for the edge of the world was just beyond the last trees of the big deep woods, and that he'd often sat there and hung his feet over and watched the moon come up. Mr. 'Possum said so, too; and Mr. Crow said that the other edge was over along the wide, blue water, where Mr. Turtle lived, and that of course the water was flat, as everybody could see. Anyway, it would spill out if it wasn't.

But Mr. Dog stuck to it that Mr. Man had said just what Mr. Dog had said he said, and that, what was more, Mr. Man had said that the world turned over every day, and that the sun and moon and stars all went round it. And Mr. Man had said, too, that people sometimes went around the world, and didn't turn over or fall off into the sky when they were underneath, but kept on, and came up on the other side, right back to the very place they started from.

Well, that made them all wonder a good deal more than ever; and Mr. Jack Rabbit, who came in just then for the evening, said he shouldn't be a bit surprised if it were true, for he'd often noticed how the seasons went round and round, and he thought, now, they must travel around the world some way, too. He said he'd composed some poetry on Spring as he came along, and that now he understood some lines of it better than he had at the start; for, of course, when poetry just comes to anybody, as it does to Mr. Rabbit, it isn't expected that even the poet himself will understand it very well at first.

Then they all wanted to hear Jack Rabbit's poem, and Mr. Rabbit said that it really wasn't just as he wanted it yet, but that if they wouldn't expect too much, he'd let them hear how it went, anyway.

WHICH WAY, SPRING?By J. RabbitO Spring,Ho, Spring!Whither do you go, Spring?If I did but know. Spring,I would go there, too.Pray, Spring,Say, Spring,Whither and away, Spring?I would start to-day, Spring,If I go with you.And Spring answers: —"Why, sir,I, sir,Just go tripping by, sir —If you did but try, sir,You could go with me.Follow,Follow,Over hill and hollow —Where the bluebirds call, O,I am sure to be."

Well, everybody applauded that, of course; and Mr. 'Coon said that for his part he was tired of cold weather, and that if to-morrow was a bright day, and anybody'd go with him, he'd start out at sunrise and follow Spring clear around the world. Then Mr. 'Possum said he'd go just to see whether Mr. Man was right or not, and Mr. Crow said he'd go, too. Mr. Rabbit wanted to go to prove some things in his poem, but he had to make a garden if it was a good day, and Mr. Dog had an engagement to dig moles for Mr. Man.

So the next morning, bright and early, the three Hollow Tree people got up and started. They packed some lunch in a basket, so they wouldn't get hungry, in case they were gone all day, and set out in high spirits; for it was a beautiful morning in April, and they knew Spring had come at last.

They saw a bluebird up in a tree not far away, and they remembered what Mr. Rabbit's poem had said about following him over hill and hollow; so they went along in that direction, talking and whistling and singing, because they felt so good in the fresh morning sunlight.

And Mr. Bluebird hopped and whistled and flew along ahead, until, by-and-by, they came to where Mr. Fox lived.

"Where are you fellows going, so early?" called Mr. Fox.

"We're following Spring around the world," called back Mr. Crow; and then they told him all that Mr. Dog had said.

Then Mr. Fox looked very wise, for he didn't know if Mr. Dog was playing a trick on them, or if it were really true that the world was round and he hadn't heard of it. Anyway, he wasn't going to let on, so he said, "Why, of course! I knew that all the time. You just keep right on until you come to that big elm over yonder, and turn to the right. Anybody over there can show you the way." Then Mr. Fox coughed and went back into the house, but he made up his mind he wouldn't laugh until he had seen Mr. Dog and was sure it was all a joke. And the Hollow Tree people kept on to the elm tree, and, sure enough, there was Mr. Bluebird, hopping and whistling and flying on ahead, for he'd been listening to what Mr. Fox had told them.

So they hurried right along after him till they came to Mr. Wolf's place. Mr. Wolf was looking out of his door as they came by.

"Hello, you early birds!" he called. "Whose hen-roost you been after?"

Then they told him they weren't thinking of such things as that on a beautiful morning like this, but that they were following Spring around the world. And they told him all that Mr. Man had said to Mr. Dog, and what Mr. Fox had said, and about Jack Rabbit's poem. Mr. Wolf thought he'd better be wise, too, until he found out just how things were, so he said: – "Sure enough! That's a good plan. I'd go along if I had time. I know the way well. You just keep on till you come to that creek yonder, then cross and turn to the right, and after that any one can show you the way."

So away went the Hollow Tree people, and when they got to the creek, and crossed, and turned to the right, there was the bluebird again, hopping and whistling and dancing on ahead, just in the direction that Mr. Wolf had said to go. Then, pretty soon, Mr. 'Possum said he was hungry, so they sat down on some moss and ate their lunch, and Mr. Bluebird came up close and sang to them till Mr. 'Possum went to sleep in the sun and took a little nap, while the 'Coon and the Crow put what was left back into the basket and got ready to go. Then Mr. 'Possum woke up and said he was sure they must be nearly around the world, for he'd just had a dream about catching a chicken with four legs and two heads, and he knew that must mean something good. So then they went on and the bluebird went ahead, until they came to a fine, big cave, where Mr. Bear lived.

Now Mr. Bear is very big and wise – at least he thinks he is – and he knew right away that Mr. Dog was just playing a joke on them, or at least he thought he did, so he said: – "Well, well! I supposed you fellows knew all that long ago. You don't mean to say, do you, that this is really your first time round? Why, I go round the world every spring and fall, and buy most of my things on the other side. You just follow this path till you come to a big black rock, and then turn to the right and keep straight ahead. You can't miss the way."

Then Mr. Bear went back in his cave, and laid down and rolled over and laughed to think what a big joke everybody was playing on the Hollow Tree people. But the Hollow Tree people kept right on, for they saw Mr. Bluebird still whistling and dancing on ahead; and by-and-by they came to the big black rock that Mr. Bear had mentioned, and turned to the right again as he had told them, to do. Then they walked and walked, and Mr. Bluebird hopped and skipped and whistled, until at last, just as they were all getting very tired and it was most night, they came to a big hollow tree in a deep woods; and Mr. 'Possum looked up and says,

"Why," he says, "this tree looks a good deal like our tree!"

And Mr. 'Coon he says, "Why, it's just like our tree!"

And Mr. Crow, he says, "Why, it is our tree!" for of course they'd turned to the right three times, which brought them right back where they started from, though they did not know it.

So then all at once they commenced to laugh and shout: – "We've done it! We've done it!

"We've followed Spring around the world,According to the plan!Hurrah for Mr. Rabbit!And hurrah for Mr. Man!"

And the bluebird up in the branches whistled and danced and shouted, too; and Jack Rabbit and Mr. Dog came over pretty soon to see if they'd got home yet. And of course Mr. Rabbit was proud about the way his poem had turned out; and Mr. Dog he was proud, too, on Mr. Man's account. Then they all had a big supper, to celebrate, and by-and-by Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Dog went away arm in arm, singing Mr. Rabbit's poem to the moon; while the 'Coon and 'Possum and the old black Crow went to bed happy because they had followed Spring clear around the world, and hadn't got lost or tumbled off into the sky, but were home again safe and sound in the Hollow Tree.

CHRISTMAS AT THE HOLLOW TREE INN

THE STORY TELLER TOLD THE LAST HOLLOW TREE STORY ON CHRISTMAS EVE. IT WAS SNOWING OUTSIDE, AND THE LITTLE LADY WAS WONDERING HOW IT WAS IN THE FAR DEEP WOODS

Once upon a time, he said, when the Robin, and Turtle, and Squirrel, and Jack Rabbit had all gone home for the winter, nobody was left in the Hollow Tree except the 'Coon and 'Possum and the old black Crow. Of course the others used to come back and visit them pretty often, and Mr. Dog, too, now that he had got to be good friends with all the Deep Woods people, and they thought a great deal of him when they got to know him better. Mr. Dog told them a lot of things they had never heard of before, things that he'd learned at Mr. Man's house, and maybe that's one reason why they got to liking him so well.

He told them about Santa Claus, for one thing, and how the old fellow came down the chimney on Christmas Eve to bring presents to Mr. Man and his children, who always hung up their stockings for them, and Mr. Dog said that once he had hung up his stocking, too, and got a nice bone in it, that was so good he had buried and dug it up again as much as six times before spring. He said that Santa Claus always came to Mr. Man's house, and that whenever the children hung up their stockings they were always sure to get something in them.

Well, the Hollow Tree people had never heard of Santa Claus. They knew about Christmas, of course, because everybody, even the cows and sheep, know about that, but they had never heard of Santa Claus. You see, Santa Claus only comes to Mr. Man's house, but they didn't know that, either, so they thought if they just hung up their stockings he'd come there, too, and that's what they made up their minds to do. They talked about it a great deal together, and Mr. 'Possum looked over all his stockings to pick out the biggest one he had, and Mr. Crow he made himself a new pair on purpose. Mr. 'Coon said he never knew Mr. Crow to make himself such big stockings before, but Mr. Crow said he was getting old and needed things bigger, and when he loaned one of his new stockings to Mr. 'Coon, Mr. 'Coon said, "That's so," and that he guessed they were about right after all. They didn't tell anybody about it at first, but by and by they told Mr. Dog what they were going to do, and when Mr. Dog heard it he wanted to laugh right out. You see, he knew Santa Claus never went anywhere except to Mr. Man's house, and he thought it would be a great joke on the Hollow Tree people when they hung up their stockings and didn't get anything.

But by and by Mr. Dog thought about something else. He thought it would be too bad, too, for them to be disappointed that way. You see, Mr. Dog liked them all now, and when he had thought about that a minute he made up his mind to do something. And this is what it was – he made up his mind to play Santa Claus!