The Hollow Tree Snowed-in Book

Then the Little Lady says:

"Now tell me about the Hollow Tree People; they have picnics, too."

"Sure enough, they do. And I think I'll have to tell you about their very last picnic and what happened."

Well, once upon a time Mr. 'Possum said that he was getting tired of sitting down to a table every meal in a close room with the smell of cooking coming in, and if Mr. Crow would cook up a few things that would taste good cold he'd pack the basket (that is, Mr. 'Possum would) and Mr. 'Coon could carry it, and they'd go out somewhere and eat their dinner in a nice place under the trees.

Mr. 'Coon said he knew a pleasant place to go, and Mr. Crow said he'd cook one of Mr. Man's chickens, which Mr. 'Possum had brought home the night before, though it would take time, he said, because it was pretty old – Mr. 'Possum having picked it out in the dark in a hurry.

So then they all flew around and put away things, and Mr. Crow got the chicken on while Mr. 'Coon sliced the bread and Mr. 'Possum cut the cake, which they had been saving for Sunday, and he picked out a pie too, and a nice book to read which Mr. Crow had found lying in Mr. Man's yard while the folks were at dinner. Then he packed the basket all neat and nice, and ate a little piece of the cake when Mr. 'Coon had stepped out to see how the chicken was coming along, and when the chicken was ready he cut it all up nicely, and he tasted of that a little, too, while Mr. Crow was getting on his best picnic things to go.

And pretty soon they all started out, and it was so bright and sunny that Mr. 'Possum began to sing a little, and Mr. 'Coon told him not to make a noise like that or they'd have company – Mr. Dog or Mr. Fox or somebody – when there was only just enough chicken for themselves, which made Mr. 'Possum stop right away. And before long they came to a very quiet place under some thick hemlock-trees behind a stone wall and close to a brook of clear water.

That was the place Mr. 'Coon had thought of, and they sat down there and spread out all the things on some moss, and everything looked so nice that Mr. 'Possum said they ought to come here every day and eat dinner as long as the hot weather lasted. Then they were all so hungry that they began on the chicken right away, and Mr. 'Possum said that maybe he might have picked out a tenderer one, but that he didn't think he could have found a bigger one, or one that would have lasted longer, and that, after all, size and lasting were what one needed for a picnic.

So they ate first one thing and then another, and Mr. 'Coon asked if they remembered the time Mr. Dog had come to one of their picnics before they were friends with him, when he'd really been invited to stay away; and they all laughed when they thought how Mr. Rabbit had excused himself, and the others, too, one after another, until Mr. Dog had the picnic mostly to himself. And by-and-by the Hollow Tree People lit their pipes and smoked, and Mr. 'Possum leaned his back against a tree and read himself to sleep, and dreamed, and had a kind of a nightmare about that other picnic, and talked in his sleep about it, which made Mr. 'Coon think of something to do.

So then Mr. 'Coon got some long grass and made a strong band of it and very carefully tied Mr. 'Possum to the tree, and just as Mr. 'Possum began to have his dream again and was saying "Oh! Oh! here comes Mr. Dog!" Mr. 'Coon gave three loud barks right in Mr. 'Possum's ear, and Mr. Crow said "Wake up! Wake up, Mr. 'Possum! Here he comes!"

And Mr. 'Possum did wake up, and jumped and jerked at that band, and holloed out as loud as he could:

"Oh, please let me go, Mr. Dog! Oh, please let me go, Mr. Dog!" for he thought it was Mr. Dog that had him, and he forgot all about them being friends.

But just then he happened to see Mr. Crow and Mr. 'Coon rolling on the ground and laughing, and he looked down to see what had him and found he was tied to a tree, and he knew that they had played a joke on him. That made him pretty mad at first, and he said if he ever got loose he'd pay them back for their smartness.

Then Mr. 'Coon told him he most likely never would get loose if he didn't promise not to do anything, so Mr. 'Possum promised, and Mr. 'Coon untied him. Mr. 'Possum said he guessed the chicken must have been pretty hard to digest, and he knew it was pretty salt, for he was dying for a good cold drink.

Then Mr. 'Coon said he knew where there was a spring over beyond the wall that had colder water than the brook, and he'd show them the way to it. So they climbed over the wall and slipped through the bushes to the spring, and all took a nice cold drink, and just as they raised their heads from drinking they heard somebody say something. And they all kept perfectly still and listened, and they heard it again, just beyond some bushes.

So then they crept softly in among the green leaves and branches and looked through, and what do you think they saw?

The Story Teller turns to the Little Lady, who seems a good deal excited.

"Why, why, what did they see?" she says. "Tell me, quick!"

"Why," the Story Teller goes on, "they saw the Little Lady and the Story Teller having a picnic too, with all the nice things spread out by a rock, under the hemlock-trees."

"Oh," gasps the Little Lady, "did they really see us? and are they there now?"

"They might be," says the Story Teller. "The Hollow Tree People slip around very softly. Anyway, they were there then, and it was the first time they had ever seen the Little Lady and the Story Teller so close. And they watched them until they were all through with their picnic and had gathered up their things. Then the 'Coon and the 'Possum and Old Black Crow slipped away again, and crept over the wall and gathered up their own things and set out for home very happy."

The Little Lady grasps the Story Teller's hand.

"Let's go and see their picnic place!" she says. "They may be there now."

So the Little Lady and the Story Teller go softly down to the spring and get a drink; then they creep across to the mossy stone wall and peer over, and there, sure enough, is a green mossy place in the shade, the very place to spread a picnic; and the Little Lady jumps and says "Oh!" for she sees something brown whisk into the bushes. Anyhow, she knows the Hollow Tree People have been there, for there is a little piece of paper on the moss which they must have used to wrap up something, and she thinks they most likely heard her coming and are just gone.

So the Story Teller lifts her over the wall, and they sit down on the green moss of the Hollow Tree picnic place, and she leans up against him and listens to the singing of the brook, and the Story Teller sings softly too, until by-and-by the Little Lady is asleep.

And it may be, as they sit there and drowse and dream, that the Hollow Tree People creep up close and watch them.

Who knows?

1

The Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book, by the same author and artist.

2

Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book.

3

See picture on cover.