Chapter XIII: Part 13

“‘When people are wise and take advantage of time it is making hay while the sun shines, for it is not losing time. The expression, as you see, means taking advantage of good times to prepare for bad times, and it started by some one telling some one else to see about the hay while the sun was shining, for the rain might come, and then it would be too late.

“‘And,’ continued the sun, ‘it is a wise saying, a very wise saying, indeed.’”

OCTOBER 28: The Squash

“It’s all right to be a winter vegetable or to be a summer vegetable, and it’s all right to be any kind of a vegetable at all a vegetable wishes to be,” said the squash, “but it’s sad above everything to be a squash.”

“And why so?” asked one of the potatoes.

“Because there is something flat about being a squash.

“Just think of the family name, for example—squash! Doesn’t it sound flat and squashed and trampled upon and walked upon and squashed down flat? It has such a hopeless sound!”

“It does sound that way,” said the potato. “But still you aren’t all trampled upon and squashed down flat. In fact, I don’t know that I ever saw folks going around and trampling upon you. To be sure, your name has a flat, trampled-upon sound.”

“And, oh, dear,” said the squash, “we’re such a dull sort of family. There is no interest to us. We’re not fascinating and pretty, like the tomatoes, and we’re not even loved by some and hated by others, like the cucumbers.

“They are interesting, for they have both friends and enemies.

“Now we haven’t any who really love us. Most people think we’ll do and that we do no harm and that we’re all right, but no one even gets excited over squash. It is indeed sad to be nothing but a squash!”

OCTOBER 29: Jack O’Lantern

“I was made by a very fine boy,” said Jack O’Lantern. “I was a little nervous when he was cutting out my nose for fear he’d give me a crooked nose.

“But he didn’t. I have a fine nose, haven’t I?”

“Indeed, your nose is a thing of beauty,” said Billie Brownie.

“And my eyes are nice, eh?” asked Jack O’Lantern.

“There is nothing the matter with your eyes,” grinned Billie Brownie.

“Good,” said Jack O’Lantern.

“And,” he added after a moment, “I do hope you feel like admiring my mouth. It is such a nice big mouth.”

“It is a nice big mouth,” laughed Billie Brownie. “Yes, I think you’re a fine fellow, and I love the head piece of a bit of green stalk you wear at the top of your head. It makes you look quite dashing.

“And I’m sure your candle will shine through beautifully when it is lighted,” Billie Brownie added.

“And then I will go Hallowe’en calling,” said Jack O’Lantern. “What joy that will be!

“Yes, I will go calling on many people, and I will sit on their door-steps all by myself with no one to tell me what to do and no one to tell me how to act.

“For I will know how to act. I will smile at the people and that is why I am glad my mouth is big, for if I hadn’t a big mouth I mightn’t look as though I were smiling. I mightn’t look as though I were grinning my best grin.

“I tell you, Billie Brownie, I’m a cheerful fellow.”

OCTOBER 30: Daddy’s Hallowe’en

“I am going to tell you,” said daddy, “of the things I did when I was a boy at Hallowe’en time. First of all I used to love bobbing in a tub for apples. I wore a bathing cap so if it was a cold evening my mother wouldn’t be afraid I’d get my hair wet and catch cold because she knew how far down I’d dive into the tub of water!

“And we all did the same. The girls needed the bathing caps on their heads more than the boys did and they certainly could dive with hair all held in so dry and safe by their caps.

“Then we would play games and one of our favorite games was to run races carrying peanuts on knives.

“Two at a time would race against each other. The end of the race would be a big bowl set on the floor and we would start off at the other end of the room.

“Then we would each have a lot of peanuts and we would carry as many as we could on our knife until we had gotten rid of all of them.

“We had to take all the peanuts to the bowl without letting any drop off.

“It was most exciting, for though none of the other children could push us or joggle us they could make funny remarks to us and we would start laughing and sometimes our knife would shake and we’d drop the peanuts and have to start all over again.

“Sometimes we would only take one at a time because we could get them all to the bowl more quickly that way in the long run.

“Sometimes the one who starts off fastest does not win, you know. And then of course we went calling each with a Jack O’Lantern, and how mad we were at those who hadn’t enough fun in them to like these Hallowe’en callers!”

OCTOBER 31: Hallowe’en

The preparations for the party to be given at Janet’s house that Hallowe’en evening had already begun. Already they were hanging apples attached firmly by strings from a door-way and as soon as the guests came and the tricks began they would all try to bite these apples, which would swing so annoyingly away from them!

And there was going to be a dish of flour in the kitchen after supper and the children were all going to try to find a twenty-five cent piece hidden there. They were going to hunt for it with their teeth! And there were apples bobbing in a great tub of water. And these had to be caught by the teeth too. Some of these held pennies!

There would be fortune-telling, too, and Janet’s mother had promised to be the fortune-telling witch who would sit by her caldron which was now being made of red cheese-cloth. At the bottom of it, barely hidden, there would be a flashlight which would be kept going all the time, of course!

Oh, the party was going to be splendid. Janet knew that. And yet—and yet—she wished she knew why they had a party—not that she didn’t want a party! But just why was it for this evening with the strange name. What did Hallowe’en really mean? She hated to ask for she felt she should know and that she would be laughed at for not knowing.

“Why, Janet,” her mother said that afternoon late as she caught sight of Janet’s little worried face, “this isn’t the time to look sad when we’re having a party! What is the trouble, my darling?”

There was something in the understanding, sweet way that her mother asked her that made Janet ask what she thought was so foolish a question.

“Mother dear,” she began, “just what does Hallowe’en mean?”

“October thirty-first,” her mother said, “is the vigil of All Saints’ Day, or Hallowe’en, for Hallow means to devote time to holy purposes and e’en is short for evening. So that it means the evening before the religious day which is known as All Saints’ Day.

“But Hallowe’en, while coming before a religious day, has always been an evening of festivity and frolic and fun for children. In all countries they celebrate it—it is a real children’s evening—though in various countries the children have their own little ways of celebrating.

“Our way, though, is used by children of many countries and we have make-believe witches just as they have, for in the olden days in the old countries those who were superstitious or given to imagining things not so, thought witches came out on Hallowe’en.”

And somehow, Janet never enjoyed a party so much, for it was so nice to know just what the day meant and to know too that in many countries children on this very evening were having a celebration of such a weirdly wonderful kind!

NOVEMBER 1: The Brownies Help

“A little girl, whose name was Kitty, was very anxious to win the prize,” said daddy. “‘I shall work so hard over it,’ she said to herself, and she refused an invitation to walk with her friends that afternoon.

“She put her hand to her head and thought hard—but she couldn’t think of anything to write! She dipped her pen into the ink-well and only made two smudge spots on the paper in front of her.

“‘Oh,’ she sighed, ‘I wish I had gone for a walk. I feel so sleepy—and staying in the house all afternoon is so silly!’ She really was much annoyed with herself and soon she put her head down on her desk and went sound, sound asleep.

“Pretty soon the two smudge spots grew larger and larger. They seemed to get round and funny and fat—and she almost saw them grinning at her!

“Soon she saw that around one spot was a wide band of white on which were written the words:

“‘I’m Mr. Pen and I’ll write you a story.’

“And around the other spot was written:

“‘I’m Mr. Ink and I’ll write you a story.’

“‘But I don’t want two stories,’ cried Kitty. ‘I only want one. If I write two they will think I want to have two chances while every one else has one. That will never do.’

“But the round, smudgy spots proved to be Billie Brownie and Bennie Brownie, and it was around their hats that the words were written about Mr. Pen and Mr. Ink.

“‘We are going to whisper to you the most marvelous of stories,’ they said. And they grinned and hugged each other with delight.

“‘She’ll win the prize,’ said Billie Brownie, and his brother Bennie laughed and said:

“‘She certainly will.’

“And then they told her, while she was napping, the most wonderful story you can imagine. ‘I won’t forget it, will I?’ she asked. And the two Brownies laughed and said:

“‘Forget one of your stories? Never!’

“And then Kitty stretched out her arms until one hand was taking hold of Mr. Pen and the other was bringing Mr. Ink’s Home—the ink-well—forward on the desk.

“‘Ah,’ she said, as she rubbed her eyes and looked at the paper in front of her. ‘What a nice sleep I have had. I feel so fresh and just like writing a composition. I am so glad I didn’t go out—for I know just what I want to write about.’

“Kitty wrote all the afternoon and the very last thing she did was to make a nice, neat copy of the composition. When it was all ready and tied with a little piece of blue string at the top, she put it away in her desk drawer until the time came to hand it in.

“Of course, she won the prize and the teacher said that it was because her composition showed she had taken time to think about it, but Kitty knew it was because of the Brownies!”

NOVEMBER 2: The Butterfly and Bumble-Bee

“Good-by,” said the golden butterfly. “It is late for me to be out and I must leave now. I have come around because it is what they call Indian summer.

“That is when another week of summer comes in the autumn when people have almost become used to cold weather.”

“I must still do a little more work in this warm sunshine,” the bumble-bee said; “you know it has been said of us that we improve each shining hour.”

“But,” said the golden butterfly, “how do you know you’re improving each shining hour? Aren’t the hours all right as they are?”

“Yes,” said the bumble-bee, “that may be so, and they may be all right spent idly by some people. I don’t suppose the hours care so very much, though I have heard they hated to be wasted, and we will never waste them.”

“But they like to give pleasure and to have people take rests and enjoy themselves, too,” said the golden butterfly. And as he waved a golden wing in farewell he said to himself, “Bumble-bees overdo things. They work so hard that they’ve forgotten how to play! And that is the saddest thing about their lives.”

NOVEMBER 3: The Furnace

“Ha, ha,” said the Furnace, as the pieces of coal were being shoved in; “ha, ha,” he laughed. “So they’re becoming anxious to have me working again.

“And I believe they never gave me a moment’s thought all summer long. I’m sure they didn’t. I feel quite certain of it.

“And then they wonder why at times I act crossly and queerly and why I get upset at times. I try not to, but of course when I get thinking of how no one gives the poor old Furnace a thought all summer long, then I can’t help but get upset.

“And when I get upset they all grumble about me, as if I mustn’t get upset, no matter how I may feel.

“Well, it’s a bit unfair. But I try to rise above it and give them heat and no smoke; warmth and no trouble.

“I suppose things aren’t appreciated until they are needed. I’ve heard that window-shades or blinds or whatever one wants to call them have been so good about hiding the light from people’s eyes when they were sleepy, and then when they are old and had holes in them, they were horribly complained about, though never a ‘thank you’ did they get when they were doing their good work.

“And no one ever says:

“‘Ah, what a good pair of socks you are, my dear,’ or, ‘What a lovely pair of stockings you are, Nice Pair.’

“Yet so soon as a hole comes, how they grumble!”

“You’re very useful,” said a piece of coal, “but you aren’t the whole thing. We’re all needed. Matches are needed. Sticks and paper are needed when you are started. Some one is needed to watch over you.

“You require a great deal of watching. You must have a nurse, or furnace man, or watcher of some sort looking after you.

“So, Furnace, you mustn’t become too conceited.” And the Furnace thought the coal was right.

NOVEMBER 4: The Elephant’s Bath

“Steve, the elephant,” said daddy, “wanted to take a bath. He was in the big theater when he had this wish, for he did an act every afternoon and evening on the stage.

“‘Yes,’ Steve said to himself, ‘I feel the need of bathing. I’d like a good plunge in the real water—a river for example, just as I would have if I were free.

“‘Of course, the first thing I must do,’ he continued, ‘is to get out of that side door there and get on the street. Then I will go a-looking for a river.

“‘I know there are plenty of rivers, for in my five years of circus life I’ve seen quantities of rivers. Yes, there must be one not far from this theater. It seems to me on one of my marches that I remember seeing it.

“‘In fact, I feel quite sure I remember seeing a river at the other end of the long street we marched through.

“‘At any rate, I will go and have a look.’

“So Steve started to go through the door at the end of the lower part of the stage where he was staying waiting for his act to go on. There would be other acts first and then he would come.

“‘I’ll be back in time,’ he said to himself, ‘but if not I’ll be just having a holiday. Of course, usually holidays are given to people and animals, but this time I will take my own holiday all of my own accord.’

“Instead of undoing the door or opening it in the usual way Steve walked along pushing the door in front of him and taking it right off its hinges.

“When he got out on the street he looked about him. The children were just coming from school.

“‘Well, hello, children,’ he said, as he waved his trunk around. Some of the children had peanuts with them and some of them had pennies so they threw delicacies to Steve and said:

“‘Oh, aren’t you a nice big elephant.’

“But when their mothers saw that the elephant was walking along they called to their children to come right in the houses.

“‘He is nice,’ the children called back.

“‘You can’t be sure,’ said their mothers.

“‘Now isn’t that annoying,’ said Steve. ‘Here I am feeling as friendly as friendly as can be, and the mothers want their children to come away from me and to go into foolish houses.

“‘I don’t want to go into houses. They needn’t bang their doors so tight shut. Haven’t I just left a house and don’t I want a bath?

“‘I don’t take a bath by going in people’s houses. I’ve heard of the size of their bath tubs. They wouldn’t do for me.’

“Steve suddenly discovered a river at the end of another few blocks.

“He hurried along, waving his trunk as he went, and oh, what joy it was to him, to take a real swim in a real river. By the time he had finished his keepers had come after him, but he didn’t mind going back again to do his tricks in the theater for he had had a bath in a real river!”

NOVEMBER 5: Waving and Dreaming

“Laddie lived out in the country on a farm and not far away were the railway tracks,” said daddy. “How Laddie did love to see the great long trains go rushing by and curling blue smoke coming from the engine!

“He would sit on the back porch of his home and watch and watch the trains as they went by, and every day there were sure to be trains passing five different times. Laddie was always there on the back porch, just as regularly as if he had to be there.

“And every time a train would pass Laddie would wave and as he waved he would think of the people in the train and how they would go on and on into wonderful parts of the land, new parts he had never seen.

“Often people would wave back to him and then he would smile and feel just like an adventure, too, for he had made friends with these wonderful people rushing by on adventureful travels.”

NOVEMBER 6: The Clever Fire Horses

“The fire,” began daddy, “was in a deserted barn on the very outskirts of the town. It was quite near some houses and an inn. So the firemen wanted to do all they could to keep fire from spreading to the houses, for there was quite a high wind. No one minded if the old barn burnt, for it really was of no use to any one, and the owner of it never bothered to keep it up at all.

“But the fire-engine horses made an awful fuss. They heard, what the firemen didn’t hear, one of their own kind crying for help in horse language.

“They tried to break from the engines and kicked their heels and made a lot of commotion. They shook their heads and made all sorts of funny sounds.

“Finally one of the firemen said:

“‘I have a suspicion that the horses hear something in that barn, and I am going in to investigate, for maybe there is something alive inside. I have never known these horses to make a mistake.’

“So he went in through a broken window, and when he got inside he found a horse trembling with fear at seeing the flames.

“The old fireman unbolted the back door of the barn where the fire had not as yet spread and led the horse out. Then you should have seen the fire-engine horses. They were so happy that the old horse had been saved.

“But just at that moment an old man came running out of the inn and crying: ‘Oh, save my horse! He’s in that barn!’

“And when he saw that his horse had been saved he went over and put his head on the horse’s mane, and the horse neighed contentedly.

“The old man had stopped at the inn for the night, and there they had told him he could safely keep his horse in the old barn.

“‘Oh, I am so grateful to you!’ said the old man to the firemen. ‘I love my horse like a very real friend. How can I ever thank you?’

“‘We’re not the ones to thank,’ said the fireman who had gone in the barn when the fire horses had seemed so excited. ‘Our horses saved your horse’s life.’”

NOVEMBER 7: The Two Roses

“Have I ever met you before?” asked the yellow rose of a beautiful pink rose. The pink rose was of a very exquisite color and though the yellow rose had seen many pink roses it was sure it hadn’t seen one of just that very same shade.

“I don’t believe you have,” said the pink rose, “for I am a new kind of a rose. I haven’t any thorns on me—that is, I only have some way, way down by the bottom of my stem. That is what they have trained my family to do. It took a good deal of training and teaching to make us like that and last spring when my grandmother made her appearance she was the first one to have succeeded in being almost thornless. It was a great day for grandmother!”

NOVEMBER 8: The Moth Balls

“How funny moths are,” said the first Moth Ball. “When most creatures go to the country or the seashore in the summer the moths prefer to stay if they can, in great heavy coats and furs and tam-o’-shanters, and so forth.

“It is really most ridiculous. One would think they would prefer it where it was cool.”

“Still,” said the second Moth Ball, “we do not go to cool spots in the summer. We stay right in with the warm clothes.”

“That is so,” the first Moth Ball answered, “but we have our work to do. Our business keeps us in warm clothes in the summer-time, and you’d think moths would stay away, when they can see there is no hospitality offered them.”

“Oh, well,” the second Moth Ball said, “I suppose there are some creatures who will never take hints and perhaps it is just as well.

“For if moths took hints there would be no need for moth balls.”

“True,” the first Moth Ball ended as it was shaken out of a heavy coat about to begin its second winter.

NOVEMBER 9: Good-Winter

“As you know,” commenced daddy, “when the little creatures who go to sleep for the winter are about to begin their long, long rest they wish each other a good-winter just as we would say a good-night to each other, and Billie Brownie hurried off to make his good-winter calls on some of his friends.

“‘Well,’ said Billie Brownie to Mother Grizzly, ‘I wish you a good-winter.

“‘If you were only going to have a night’s rest of course I’d only wish you a good-night and pleasant dreams.

“‘But as you sleep for the winter I wish you a good-winter and pleasant winter dreams.’

“‘Woof, woof, thank you,’ said Mother Grizzly.

“And Billie Brownie left Mother Grizzly to tuck her children into their nice beds right by her in the old family den.

“He was very fond of Mother Grizzly.

“Then he went to call on the Ground Squirrels.

“‘Hello, little Ground Squirrels,’ he said, as he saw them after he had traveled a little distance in his Brownie motor-car.

“‘Are you on your way to bed?’

“‘We are indeed,’ they said. ‘Our parents went to bed at the end of the summer but we were allowed to stay up longer.

“‘It is such fun to be allowed to stay up a little longer once in a great while. Good-winter, Billie Brownie.’

“For they said good-winter to Billie Brownie, too, as they would not see him during the winter, although he would not be asleep.

“They would be the ones asleep!

“And then he called on Mother Black-Bear, the Prairie Dog family, Willie Woodchuck and his family, and many others and to all he wished pleasant winter dreams.”

NOVEMBER 10: The Horse’s Complaint

“When I went out to-day,” began the horse, “the farmer had a new check rein for me. It held my head way, way up in the air and it was so hard for me. My neck ached and throbbed, and still the farmer drove me along and never paid any attention.

“I just longed to have him wear it for five minutes and see how he would feel. But we had not gone so very far when a lady stopped and spoke to the master.

“‘That check rein is very tight,’ she said.

“‘Oh no,’ said the master. ‘He is used to a rein like that. He always keeps his head up that way. He is a fine, well-bred horse.’

“‘That’s true,’ said the lady. ‘But that is no reason why you should make him suffer.’

“‘He doesn’t suffer,’ said the master. And all the time my neck was aching, aching, and, oh, how I was longing to get my head down a little. The rein held it up, and never for a moment could I get it down.

“Before another word was said, my check rein was loosened, and then joy of joys, I put my head down. I moved it around, and twisted it, and I shook it! It was glorious.

“‘There,’ said the lady. ‘Don’t you see he likes his head down? He doesn’t want it forced up beyond where he would hold it naturally. That is a very cruel rein.’

“‘You know nothing about horses,’ said my master as he put the check rein back.

“There was my head back in its cruel check rein again, and on we drove. Oh how long that drive to town and back seemed to-day. And though I wish the master no harm, how I do wish he could be driven into town just once—with his head way back—held—so he couldn’t move it—couldn’t let it down for a second! Then he would know what it means to a horse who has too tight a check rein.”

“Then he would know,” neighed the other horses. “Oh, if masters could only wear check reins too, so they would know just what they are like,” they added.

NOVEMBER 11: Armistice Day

We think of days in history and of great and important events and of the dates upon which they took place. And little do we realize that one of the greatest dates in history was one which almost all of us remember. Those who were only babies then are so quickly catching up with those ahead of them that they will hear about it so often that they will feel they, too, remember.

Early, early in the morning of November 11, 1918, peace came to a world in which so many nations had been at war that it was indeed almost a world war. And so huge and terrible and gigantic a war was it, including men of so many countries, and so great was the ideal for which they were fighting against an aggressive tyranny, that it had to be known by some name quite unusual and quite different.

It was also called The Great War.

It was great in its immensity, its idealism, its heroism, its scientifically modern and horrible machine-guns and submarines and gases, its tragedy, its suffering and the confusion and disorder it left behind.

There had been on November 7th a false report of peace. At that false report (then people did not know that it was false) every one went wild. The streets were filled with singing, shouting, happy, excited people. Oh, how happy they were! So happy they couldn’t quite express their happiness. They had kept their worries and their sorrows so closely to themselves that they found it hard at first to let out what they felt.

And let it out they must! Joy was not to be kept to themselves. Joy was to be shared. Joy was something one didn’t have to be brave about—joy was too kindly and gay and merry—joy didn’t demand any self-control, nor did joy demand anything that was hard!

Whistles were blown and bells began to ring. Flags began appearing from windows, flags of all sizes. Many people rushed from their houses to wave their flags as they ran joyously up and down the streets.

One gray-haired woman spent the day in waving her flag as she walked the streets and smiled at people she had never met before. But now she could share her happiness with these strangers.

Her son, who had been fighting for them, too, was now safe!

People made very sure of the report that came next—on November 11th—but it was a real report and there was no doubt of it this time. Victory had come. But not only victory—peace! The very word itself was more deeply thrilling than ever it had been before.

In the cities the people took to the streets and shared their joy with everybody. They rode on trucks; in every motor there were crowds—many of them had been strangers to each other but a short time ago. Older women seemed to have grown suddenly younger. They walked with a new springiness in their steps. People sang—crowds went by having made up hurried parades, singing as they went.

Even tin pans were brought out and did their share toward a great noise in thankfulness. Peace! Peace following war!

People dressed up—solemn people were no longer solemn.

And all were a part of a great day in history—one of history’s greatest days!

In small towns too the whistles blew, the church bells rang and very early in the dark morning, lights appeared in the houses. Small village bands or a group who could play musical instruments led processions which kept on all through the day and up into the following night. The small towns too had sent their own to the war. And peace had come to the small towns.

November 11th—Armistice Day! Peace! Something so beautiful, meaning so much to all human beings, that it has become the hope of the world that peace may always be with us!

NOVEMBER 12: Window Castles

“The children want to look out of their windows and you’re in the way,” said Mr. Sun to Master Chilly and Jack Frost’s other brothers.

Chilly and the others began to move a little and as they moved their castles disappeared with them. The children were getting up now and were calling to each other. “Oh, look at the wonderful pictures on the windows. There are castles too! Aren’t they beautiful!”

Chilly and the other Frost brothers and workers were delighted. “You see, Mr. Sun, they like us.”

“Well, maybe they do,” said Mr. Sun, “but I can’t help you stay around. I must smile and talk in my usual way and it’s too warm a day for you to like.”

Slowly the frost castles left the windows, for they were taken away by the Frost Brothers after Mr. Sun had talked to them as they will never teach any one else the mystery of their work.

NOVEMBER 13: The Autumn Paint Club

“Come on, now,” said Jack Frost to his brothers. “It is time that the Autumn Paint Club finished up some of its work.”

“Nutty Chum, Chippy Chappy, and Sharpy and Bright Eyes and others of the squirrel family will be glad that we have come, for we will improve the nuts and they like the nuts, oh yes indeed!

“Then we will please the children, too, for they like the chestnut season. Oh, yes, that is the truth! They do like the chestnut season.

“But ah, Frost Brothers, the night is almost here. Let’s get started.

“Remember, you all know just what you have to do! You all know which of you must paint the windows with the magic Frost paint brushes this evening, and you know which of you must whisper to the flowers the little Frost word, ‘Obey!’ You all know what you must do.”

“We all know,” said the Frost Brothers.

“I feel just like work,” said Master Very Cool.

“So do I,” said Master Chilly.

“I feel like it, too, I should say I did,” agreed Master Heavy Frost.

“Good,” said Jack Frost. “And you’re a fine worker, Master Heavy Frost. You make creatures obey you!”

So off went the Frost Brothers, and the next morning when the people awoke they said what a heavy frost there had been, but Jack Frost was chuckling to himself as he said: “The Autumn Paint Club did fine work last night!”

NOVEMBER 14: Mother Brown Bat

“Ah, children,” said Mother Brown Bat, “it will soon be time to go to bed. And we shall sleep well, for bats are good sleepers. We shall sleep especially well if it is to be a cold winter. Ah, my children, what marketing trips we have made. I have not had to call in a neighbor to take care of my babies when I went out. No, my babies hung onto my neck and came along, too.

“What times we used to have catching bugs and other delicious delicacies we found about at night. What meals we used to have.

“We used to have beetle pudding quite often and gnat salad. Do you remember, my Bat babies?”

“We remember, Mother Brown Bat. But,” they said, “we are no longer babies.”

“That is true,” said Mother Brown Bat, “and you are able to look after yourselves; but I still call you babies, for it is hard for a mother to realize her children are grown-up and you do grow up so quickly.

“Sometimes we went about in the very, very early mornings and often we started out before it was really night. But we took great care, for we kept away from people. People have such a curious habit of not liking bats.”

“That is hard to believe,” said the Bat children.

“I think so,” said Mother Brown Bat. “I should think they would like bats, and especially the members of our family, for we are so small and dainty and so clever in the way we hang on to the trees when we sleep, rather than fussing about housekeeping and bed-making all the time.

“Housekeeping takes up too much time for a Mother Brown Bat and the Mr. Brown Bat and the little Brown Bats wouldn’t half appreciate it either.

“So she doesn’t bother to do a lot of work for no reason at all, for none of us miss a home life. We’re perfectly happy as we are and with our own ways and habits.”

“Perfectly happy,” agreed the Bat children. “We’re perfectly happy, Mother Brown Bat.”

NOVEMBER 15: The Magic Slate

“There was once,” said Witty Witch, as she sat in the center of old Mr. Giant’s cave, and told stories to the elves, brownies, gnomes, goblins and many of her other little friends, “a very naughty little gnome.

“‘I think slates are the nicest things in the world,’ he said. ‘Anything we write or draw on them we can rub right out again. I guess I’ll be like a slate myself. I’ll do what I please and then I’ll rub it out.’

“Of course he didn’t quite know how he was to do that. Rubbing out chalk marks on his slate he found to be quite a different matter from rubbing out mean and naughty actions!

“Still he said to himself that he would never do the same naughty things again, and that he was sorry, and that was just about the same as rubbing them out.

“He always pretended in school that he knew the answer to every question. Then, when Professor Gnome would ask what he had written, he would say, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Professor, but I didn’t know you wanted me to keep the answer on my slate. I rubbed it out.’ For then, he thought, he had shown he knew something by writing on his slate—even though he did not write the answer at all, but simply something quite absurd.

“One night he was very tired. He had been playing hard and had quite forgotten about his lessons. He had also knocked down a little creature smaller than himself, but he had said to himself that he was sorry for that. He really hadn’t meant to be so rough.

“Suddenly before his eyes he saw Professor Gnome, only he looked much bigger than he did in school. He was carrying a big slate.

“‘This is a slate which cannot be rubbed off by your sponge, little gnome,’ he said. ‘I have the magic rubber for it which the Fairy Queen gave me. You can now do your lessons correctly on this slate and when I think they are well done then I shall take your slate and rub it clean.’

“And the little gnome seemed to be back in the school-room now and he had written something on his slate—just to pretend he knew the answer—and then he tried to rub it off before Professor Gnome saw it. But it wouldn’t rub at all. And all the class laughed at him for knowing absolutely nothing.

“Next it was recess time, and the little gnome he had knocked down was crying. He had bumped his head as he had fallen, and the bump kept growing larger and larger until at last his head had gone entirely, and there was only a big bump left!

“Oh, how the gnome felt. ‘I shall always remember that I can’t rub out everything I do,’ he said. ‘My magic slate will teach me a good lesson, for I’ll be so ashamed when I see all my mistakes right in front of me until I have made them really and truly right.’

“It was only a dream, to be sure,” said Witty Witch, “but from that day on the gnome worked and played as though everything he did and said could not be washed off unless everything was right.”

NOVEMBER 16: Peter’s Trip with the Man in the Moon

“There was once,” said daddy, “a little boy named Peter who had always longed to see the man in the moon. Every night when there was a full moon he would sit at his window and look at the funny, jolly face of the old man until he became so sleepy he would have to go to bed.

“One night he sat watching so long that he fell asleep by the window. It was not long before he saw the strangest thing. The moon seemed to be growing larger and larger, and soon it was back of a tree near his window. He could see quite plainly the jolly old face of his beloved man in the moon looking jollier and fatter than ever. The old man grinned from ear to ear at Peter, and in a moment or two he spoke.

“‘Well, Peter, here I am. Now how do you like me?’ And as he spoke he chuckled and laughed.

“‘Oh, I think you’re wonderful!’ said Peter, with wild enthusiasm and joy.

“‘So you think I’m wonderful, do you? Ha, ha! Well, that is a joke! But there certainly isn’t any one else just like me, that’s true enough. So maybe I’m wonderful because I’m so queer. What about that?’

“‘Oh, no,’ said Peter, ‘you’re wonderful because you’re so fat and jolly and because you’re always laughing and seeming to have a good time.’

“At that, the old man in the moon laughed some more and said: ‘Well, you’re a funny little chap too. All folks don’t think it’s such a compliment to be fat, but I do. It’s the way I am, you see, and it’s best to be satisfied with the way you are, isn’t it? If you really like me then I’ll take you off in my chariot of mist to visit the stars, and you’ll call on all the bright queens of the stars, who sparkle so you can see them from down on the earth.’

“So off went Peter with the man in the moon for the most gorgeous trip. They visited all the stars, saw the bright fairy queens who live in them and all the little elves and brownies. And then the man in the moon showed Peter where he stayed in the sky and how he moved every week so that all the little boys and girls in the world could see a full moon every month. And Peter could see down below all the wee little houses (they looked so small from where Peter was) and the earth, which looked very funny and small, too, from up in the moon. Peter felt a little afraid at first that he’d fall, but as he’d never heard of the man in the moon having a tumble to earth he felt comforted. Alas, all too soon the journey had to end, for Peter heard the distant sound of a breakfast bell.

“As he yawned he realized he’d been sleeping all night by the window. But, oh, such a gorgeous sleep as it had been!”

NOVEMBER 17: Dinah

“Her name was Dinah,” said daddy, “and she was a gorilla. A gorilla is a relation of the monkey family, you know, and looks something like a chimpanzee.

“She had had quite an interesting life as she had lived in Africa when young, and then she had been captured and had been tamed and had been very friendly with her owner, and after that she was brought over to this country and given to a Zoo in a large city.

“‘I don’t expect to stay here very long,’ said Dinah. ‘I do not care about living to a great old age, as some creatures do, and I do not like captivity. I am different from the ourang-utan and the chimpanzee, who are so friendly with the keeper.

“‘I do not object to the keeper, but life bores me. There are some creatures who are always happy, and if they aren’t always happy, they are happy most of the time. So look at me while you can. Now is your chance to see the gloomy gorilla.’”

NOVEMBER 18: Winter Sleepers

Billie Brownie had still many of his calls to make in order to say good-winter to his friends who were going to sleep for the winter.

“Goog-a-room, goog-a-room, goog-a-room,” said Grandpa Frog from the near-by pond; “come, little frogs, come all, and sleep in the beautiful mud. The cold weather is coming.

“It was bitterly cold last night, little frogs.”

Then he saw Billie Brownie.

“Good-winter,” croaked Grandpa Frog.

And the toads and the frogs all squealed and croaked,

“Good-winter, Billie Brownie, good-winter!”

Then Billie Brownie went to call on the Jumping Mice.

“That frost last night was a hard one,” said little Miss Julia Jumping Mouse. “I’m going to bed to take care of my mouse beauty sleep.”

“Ha, ha,” laughed Miss Jenny Jumping Mouse, “who ever heard of a mouse going to bed early to get her beauty sleep?”

“I can’t stop to talk it over with you. I’m too sleepy,” said Miss Julia Jumping Mouse.

“Good-winter to all of you,” said Billie Brownie. But as he walked away from all his friends who were going to sleep for the winter, he said to himself:

“To sleep for a night
Is quite all right.
But to sleep half a year
Is really quite queer.
But of course we’re all different,
As different can be,
And what is natural to you
Might seem very queer to me!”

NOVEMBER 19: Toody Ruggles’ Luck

“A number of rich ladies,” began daddy, “at the seashore one day last summer had been throwing pennies from a bridge into the water for a lot of poor boys who were diving for them. The water was quite a good deal over their heads, but the little boys were marvelous divers and swimmers, having always lived by the water. The ladies kept on throwing pennies time and time again to see the wonderful dives the little boys were able to make. They would dive straight down into the water and stay down ever so long and then come up, each one holding a glittering bright penny.

“But, alas, a dreadful thing happened. One of the ladies in throwing pennies dropped a most beautiful diamond ring off from her finger and into the deep water.

“‘Oh, dear,’ she cried in dismay, ‘that was the ring I valued most and cared more for than any piece of jewelry I had. I shouldn’t have worn it, though, for it was much too loose for that finger. Whatever shall I do without it? I was so fond, so fond of it!’

“At once the little boys offered to dive for it, for it had been by the throwing of pennies to them that the lady had lost her much prized ring, and they wanted, of course, to get it back for her.

“So again and again they dived, but as none of them had seen her drop it they couldn’t judge where it had been dropped.

“Now, Toody Ruggles was perhaps the best little diver of all, and yet even he had been so far unsuccessful, but at last he thought he saw it shining down among some weeds. The lady, however, had just about given up hopes of ever seeing her ring again when, lo and behold, up came Toody, his wet little face wreathed in smiles, carrying the beautiful ring. The lady was overpowered with joy and gave Toody a most wonderful reward.

“Oh, how happy Toody Ruggles was! At home he had one little sister who was very fragile and delicate. As their parents had both died, Toody was trying his best to look after his sister and himself by selling newspapers and carrying suitcases from the station. Lately, though, the doctor had told him that his sister must have plenty of fruit to build her up and to make her regain her strength, and this poor Toody was unable to afford.

“But now he had the wonderful reward from the lady, and all the other boys were delighted that Toody had been the lucky one.

“Toody at once began to give his little sister delicious fruits. Soon the color came back to her cheeks, and she grew well and strong. So Toody’s worry that he might lose his beloved little sister was over, and through his good luck their little home once more became very, very happy.”

NOVEMBER 20: The Limpets

“A limpet,” said daddy, “is a little shellfish. They’re very, very small, perhaps a shade smaller than a snail, and they cling to the rocks which are their homes. There are always hundreds of them fastened on the big rocks on the coast by the sea. They live on seaweed and the salt water.

“When I was a boy we spent some time in a town by the sea. We used to play off a bank called ‘Greenbank’ because in the summer time this bank was always so very green. Below this bank there were countless big rocks. We could hide behind these rocks, and no one could see us. We loved that because it seemed so mysterious to hide like that. We could see the bank above us, and then, miles and miles, as far as we could see, was the ocean. The rocks were covered with seaweed, and they used to be very slippery. Sometimes we would play hide-and-seek back of these rocks.

“The rocks that were half in the water would be covered with the limpets. One big rock had great numbers of them on it, and we always called the rock ‘Limpet Rock.’

“One Saturday about six of us had taken a big basketful of lunch and had gone down to Greenbank to spend the day. There had been a terrific storm the night before. We looked for our Limpet Rock the first thing, but we saw not a sign of a limpet. How funny, we thought; that surely is the rock! What could have become of the limpets? They were quite used to storms, and surely they couldn’t have been hurt by the storm of the night before! Suddenly we spied them.

“There they all were, looking very unhappy and clinging to little pebbles and rocks in the low water. Before the day was over, though, the limpets had attached themselves to another big rock. So we called this rock the ‘New Limpet Rock.’ Once the limpets had fastened themselves to the new rock, they were just as happy as before, for they can change homes more easily than any other creatures and be happy.

“So I think we should admire the limpets because they are so brave and cheerful when they are driven from one home and with practically no fuss they set about and get a new home right away.”

NOVEMBER 21: The Rescue

“A little girl named Fannie,” began daddy, “was walking across a city street carrying a very small black poodle dog in her arms.

“Suddenly the poodle dog, whose name was Gyp, saw another dog on the other side of the street. Evidently Gyp thought the other little dog would be nice to talk to, so he jumped with one bound out of Fannie’s arms.

“Fannie gave a scream of horror, at which the policeman, standing near, flew to the rescue. Had he been a minute later the little dog would have been struck by a street car.

“‘Oh, you’ve rescued my little dog!’ Fannie cried. ‘You are so brave and wonderful!’

“Gyp, who had been very much frightened at his narrow escape, was breathing little short, quick breaths from the fear of a moment before.

“But at the same time his little tail was wagging for all it was worth, as he wanted to show the big policeman how much he thanked him, for he knew the policeman had saved his little dog life.”

NOVEMBER 22: The Old Man in the Woods

“A little boy named Bobbie had a sister named Agnes,” said daddy. “They had few neighbors, as they lived in a very small place where there were only a few houses. Near their house were long stretches of woods. They had never been to the other side of the woods nor had they ever really walked very far into the forest, for it was said in the little hamlet where they lived that a queer old man had a hut about a mile and a half through the long lonely road. But one day the children decided they’d venture forth to see this old man.

“Off they started, and after walking quite a distance they came to a funny little hut with smoke coming out of the chimney. When the old man saw Bobbie and Agnes he called out in a happy, excited voice: ‘I’m having visitors! Hurrah!’

“He took the children in his hut and showed them some wonderful picture books. He told them how delighted he was to have visitors, as he knew he was thought queer, but really he wasn’t at all, except that he loved to live in the heart of the woods. So the children promised to see him often, and he promised to show them more picture books, and before they left he gave them each a big piece of delicious apple pie.”

NOVEMBER 23: The Queen’s Pin

“Once when I was a little boy,” began daddy, “I heard an interesting story that a pin told. Now, you may think that a pin could not tell such a very good story, but this was an exceptional pin, belonging to a very grand person.

“‘Having been made into a beautiful crown shaped pin of superb pearls,’ said the pin, ‘I was put into a show case in a very beautiful jewelry shop. People would notice me above all other pins in the case and pick me out as being by far the most beautifully set pin. All the pearls which belonged to me were very, very lovely ones. But I was so expensive that people could just look at me and could not afford to buy me.

“‘The jeweler was so proud of me that he really did not care whether I was sold or not, for my beauty attracted so much attention that it was a help to his business. You see, people would ask one another if they had seen me, and if they hadn’t they would come right to the shop to look at me. Then, though they didn’t buy me, they would be sure to buy something else in the shop.

“‘But at last a marvelous carriage drove up before the door. It was drawn by four horses, and there were two fine coachmen and two very pompous looking footmen sitting up on top of the fine carriage.