With that he went into the house. Presently he came back, and in onehand was a rat-trap and in the other a mouse-trap.
IX CHATTERER GROWS TOO CURIOUS
Everybody knows how curious Peter Rabbit is. He is forever poking hiswobbly little nose in where it has no business to be, and as a resultPeter is forever getting into trouble. Whenever Chatterer the RedSquirrel has heard a new story about Peter and the scrapes his curiosityhas got him into, Chatterer has said that Peter got no more than hedeserved. As for himself, he might be curious about a thing he saw forthe first time, but he had too much sense to meddle with it until heknew all about it. So Chatterer has come to be thought very smart, quitetoo smart to be caught in a trap--at least to be caught in an ordinarytrap.
Now a great many people manage to make their neighbors think they are agreat deal smarter than they really are, and Chatterer is one of thiskind. If some of his neighbors could have peeped into Farmer Brown'scorn-crib the morning after Farmer Brown's boy found the telltalecorn-cob so carelessly dropped by Chatterer, they would have beensurprised. Yes, Sir, they would have been surprised. They would haveseen Chatterer the Red Squirrel, the boaster, he of the sharp wits,showing quite as much curiosity as ever possessed Peter Rabbit.
Chatterer had come over to the corn-crib as usual to get his dailysupply of corn. As usual, he had raced about over the great pile ofyellow corn. Quite suddenly his sharp eyes spied something that theyhadn't seen before. It was down on the floor of the corn-crib quite nearthe door. Chatterer was sure that it hadn't been there the day before.It was a very queer looking thing, very queer indeed. And then he spiedanother queer looking thing near it, only this was very much smaller.What could they be? He looked at them suspiciously. They looked harmlessenough. They didn't move. He ran a few steps towards them and scolded,just as he scolds at anything new he finds out of doors. Still theydidn't move. He ran around on a little ledge where he could look rightdown on the queer things. He was sure now that they were not alive. Thebiggest one he could see all through. Inside was something to eat. Thelittlest thing was round and flat with funny bits of wire on top. Itlooked as if it were made of wood, and in the sides were little roundholes too small for him to put his head through.
"Leave them alone," said a small voice inside of Chatterer.
"But I want to see what they are and find out all about them," saidChatterer.
"No good ever comes of meddling with things you don't know about," saidthe small voice.
"But they are such queer looking things, and they're not alive. Theycan't hurt me," said Chatterer.
Nevertheless he ran back to the pile of corn and tried to eat. Somehowhe had lost his appetite. He couldn't take his eyes off those two queerthings down on the floor.
"Better keep away," warned the small voice inside.
"It won't do any harm to have a closer look at them," said Chatterer.
So once more he scrambled down from the pile of corn and little bylittle drew nearer to the two queer things. The nearer he got, the moreharmless they looked. Finally he reached out and smelled of thesmallest. Then he turned up his nose.
"Smells of mice," muttered Chatterer, "just common barn mice." Then hereached out a paw and touched it. "Pooh!" said he, "it's nothing to beafraid of." Just then he touched one of the little wires, and there wasa sudden snap. It frightened Chatterer so that he scurried away. But hecouldn't stay away. That snap was such a funny thing, and it hadn't doneany harm. You see, he hadn't put his paw in at one of the little holes,or it might have done some harm.
Pretty soon he was back again, meddling with those little wires on top.Every once in a while there would be a snap, and he would scamper away.It was very scary and great fun. By and by the thing wouldn't snap anymore, and then Chatterer grew tired of his queer plaything and began towonder about the other queer thing. No harm had come from the first one,and so he was sure no harm could come from the other.
X OLD MR. TROUBLE GETS CHATTERER AT LAST
Of course you have guessed what it was that Chatterer had been meddlingwith. It was a mouse-trap, and he had sprung it without getting hurt.Chatterer didn't know that it was a trap. He ought to have known, but hedidn't. You see, it was not at all like the traps Farmer Brown's boy hadsometimes set for him in the Green Forest. He knew all about those trapsand never, never went near them. Now that there was nothing moreexciting about the mouse-trap, Chatterer turned his attention to theother queer thing. He walked all around it and looked at it from everyside. It certainly was queer. Yes, Sir, it certainly was queer! Itlooked something like a little house only he could see all through it.He put one paw out and touched it. Nothing happened. He tried it again.Then he jumped right on top of it. Still nothing happened. He tried hissharp teeth on it, but he couldn't bite it. You see, it was made ofstout wire.
Inside was something that looked good to eat. It smelled good, too.Chatterer began to wonder what it would taste like. The more hewondered, the more he wanted to know. There must be some way of gettingin, and if he could get in, of course he could get out again. He jumpeddown to the floor and ran all around the queer little wire house. Ateach end was a sort of little wire hallway. Chatterer stuck his head inone. It seemed perfectly safe. He crept a little way in and then backedout in a hurry. Nothing happened. He tried it again. Still nothinghappened.
"Better keep away," said a small voice down inside of him.
"Pooh! Who's afraid!" said Chatterer. "This thing can't hurt me."
Then he crept a little farther in. Right in front of him was a littleround doorway with a little wire door. Chatterer pushed the little doorwith his nose, and it opened a teeny, weeny bit. He drew backsuspiciously. Then he tried it again, and this time pushed the littledoor a little farther open. He did this two or three times until finallyhe had his head quite inside, and there, right down below him, was thatfood he so wanted to taste.
"I can hop right down and get it and then hop right up again," thoughtChatterer.
"Don't do it," said the small voice inside. "Corn is plenty good enough.Besides, it is time you were getting back to the Old Orchard."
"It won't take but a minute," said Chatterer, "and I really must knowwhat that tastes like."
With that he jumped down. Snap! Chatterer looked up. The little wiredoor had closed. Old Mr. Trouble had got Chatterer at last. Yes, Sir, hecertainly had got Chatterer this time. You see, he couldn't open thatlittle wire door from the inside. He was in a trap--the wire rat-trapset by Farmer Brown's boy.
XI WHAT HAPPENED NEXT TO CHATTERER
Were you ever terribly, terribly frightened? That was the way Chattererfelt. He was caught; there was no doubt about it! His sharp teeth wereof no use at all on those hard wires. He could look out between them,but he couldn't get out. He was too frightened to think. His heartpounded against his sides until it hurt. He forgot all about that queerfood he had so wanted to taste, and which was right before him now.Indeed, he felt as if he never, never would want to eat again. What wasgoing to happen to him now? What would Farmer Brown's boy do to him whenhe found him there?
Hark! What was that? It was a step just outside the door of thecorn-crib. Farmer Brown's boy was coming! Chatterer raced around hislittle wire prison and bit savagely at the hard wires. But it was of nouse, no use at all. It only hurt his mouth cruelly. Then the door of thecorn-crib swung open, a flood of light poured in, and with it cameFarmer Brown's boy.
"Hello!" exclaimed Farmer Brown's boy, as he caught sight of Chatterer."So you are the thief who has been stealing our corn, and I thought itwas a rat or a mouse. Well, well, you little red rascal, didn't you knowthat thieves come to no good end? You're pretty smart, for I never oncethought of you, but you were not so smart as you thought. Now I wonderwhat we had better do with you."
He picked up the trap with Chatterer in it and stepped out into thebeautiful great out-of-doors. Chatterer could see across the dooryard tothe Old Orchard and the familiar old stone wall along which he hadscampered so often. They looked just the same as
ever, and yet--well,they didn't look just the same, for he couldn't look at them withoutseeing those cruel wires which were keeping him from them.
Farmer Brown's boy put the trap down on the ground and then began tocall. "Puss, Puss, Puss," called Farmer Brown's boy. Chatterer's heart,which had been thumping so, almost stopped beating with fright. Therewas Black Pussy, whom he had so often teased and made fun of. Her yelloweyes had a hungry gleam as she walked around the trap and sniffed andsniffed. Never had Chatterer heard such a terrible sound as thosehungry sniffs so close to him! Black Pussy tried to put a paw betweenthe wires, and Chatterer saw the great, cruel claws. But Black Pussycouldn't get her paw between the wires.
"How would you like him for breakfast?" asked Farmer Brown's boy.
"Meow," said Black Pussy, arching her back and rubbing against his legs.
"I suppose that means that you would like him very much," laughed FarmerBrown's boy. "Do you think you can catch him if I let him out?"
"Meow," replied Black Pussy again, and to poor Chatterer it seemed theawfullest sound he ever had heard.
"Well, we'll see about it by and by," said Farmer Brown's boy. "There'sthe breakfast bell, and I haven't fed the biddies yet."
XII CHATTERER IS SURE THAT THIS IS HIS LAST DAY
There was no hope, not the teeniest, weeniest ray of hope in the heartof Chatterer, as Farmer Brown's boy picked up the wire rat-trap andstarted for the house, Black Pussy, the cat, following at his heels andlooking up at Chatterer with cruel, hungry eyes. Chatterer took afarewell look at the Old Orchard and way beyond it the Green Forest,from which he had been driven by fear of Shadow the Weasel. Then thedoor of the farmhouse closed and shut it all out. If there had been anyhope in Chatterer's heart, the closing of that door would have shut thelast bit out. But there wasn't any hope. Chatterer was sure that he wasto be given to Black Pussy for her breakfast.
Farmer Brown's boy put the trap on a table. "What have you there?"called a great voice. It was the voice of Farmer Brown himself, who waseating his breakfast.
"I've got the thief who has been stealing our corn in the crib," repliedFarmer Brown's boy, "and who do you think it is?"
"One of those pesky rats," replied Farmer Brown. "I'm afraid you've beencareless and left the door open some time, and that is how the rats havegot in there."
"But it isn't a rat, and I don't believe that there is a rat there,"replied Farmer Brown's boy in triumph. "It's that little scamp of a redsquirrel we've seen racing along the wall at the edge of the OldOrchard lately. I can't imagine how he got in there, but there he was,and now here he is."
"What are you going to do with him?" asked Farmer Brown, coming over tolook at Chatterer.
"I don't know," replied Farmer Brown's boy, "unless I give him to BlackPuss for her breakfast. She has been teasing me for him ever since Ifound him."
Farmer Brown's boy looked over to the other side of the table as he saidthis, and his eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Oh, you mustn't do that! That would be cruel!" cried a soft voice. "Youmust take him down to the Green Forest and let him go." A gentle facewith pitying eyes was bent above the trap. "Just see how frightened thepoor little thing is! You must take him straight down to the GreenForest right after breakfast."
"Isn't that just like Mother?" cried Farmer Brown's boy. "I believe itwould be just the same with the ugliest old rat that ever lived. Shewould try to think of some excuse for letting it go."
"God made all the little people who wear fur, and they must have someplace in his great plan," said Mrs. Brown.
Farmer Brown laughed a big, hearty laugh. "True enough, Mother!" saidhe. "The trouble is, they get out of place. Now this little rascal'splace is down in the Green Forest and not up in our corn-crib."
"Then put him back in his right place!" was the prompt reply, and theyall laughed.
Now all this time poor Chatterer was thinking that this surely was hislast day. You see, he knew that he had been a thief, and he knew thatFarmer Brown's boy knew it. He just crouched down in a little ball, toomiserable to do anything but tremble every time any one came near. Hewas sure that he had seen for the last time the Green Forest and theGreen Meadows and jolly Mr. Sun and all the other beautiful things heloved so, and it seemed as if his heart would burst with despair.
XIII CHATTERER IS PUT IN PRISON
Who ever does a deed that's wrong Will surely find some day That for that naughty act of his He'll surely have to pay.
That was the way with Chatterer. Of course he had had no business tosteal corn from Farmer Brown's corn-crib. To be sure he had felt that hehad just as much right to that corn as Farmer Brown had. You see, thelittle people of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest feel thateverything that grows belongs to them, if they want it and are smartenough to get it before some one else does. But it is just there thatChatterer went wrong. Farmer Brown had harvested that corn and storedit in his corn-crib, and so, of course, no one else had any right to it.Right down deep in his heart Chatterer knew this. If he hadn't known it,he wouldn't have been so sly in taking what he wanted. He knew all thetime that he was stealing, but he tried to make himself believe that itwas all right. So he had kept on stealing and stealing until at last hewas caught in a trap, and now he had got to pay for his wrong-doing.
Chatterer was very miserable, so miserable and frightened that he coulddo nothing but sit huddled up in a little shivery ball. He hadn't theleast doubt in the world that this was his very last day, and thatFarmer Brown's boy would turn him over to cruel Black Pussy for herbreakfast. Farmer Brown's boy had left him in the trap in the house andhad gone out. For a long time Chatterer could hear pounding out in thewoodshed, and Farmer Brown's boy was whistling as he pounded. Chattererwondered how he could whistle and seem so happy when he meant to do sucha dreadful thing as to give him to Black Pussy. After what seemed a verylong time, ages and ages, Farmer Brown's boy came back. He had with hima queer looking box.
"There," said he, "is a new home for you, you little red imp! I guess itwill keep you out of trouble for a while."
He slid back a little door in the top of the box, and then, putting on astout glove and opening a little door in the trap, he put in his bighand and closed it around Chatterer.
Poor little Chatterer! He was sure now that this was the end, and thathe was to be given to Black Pussy, who was looking on with hungry,yellow eyes. He struggled and did his best to bite, but the thick glovegave his sharp little teeth no chance to hurt the hand that held him.Even in his terror, he noticed that that big hand tried to be gentle andsqueezed him no tighter than was necessary. Then he was lifted out ofthe trap and dropped through the little doorway in the top of the queerbox, and the door was fastened. Nothing terrible had happened, afterall.
At first, Chatterer just sulked in one corner. He still felt sure thatsomething terrible was going to happen. Farmer Brown's boy took the boxout into the shed and put it where the sun shone into it. For a littlewhile he stayed watching, but Chatterer still sulked and sulked. By andby he went away, taking Black Pussy with him, and Chatterer was alone.
When he was quite sure that no one was about, Chatterer began to wonderwhat sort of a place he was in, and if there wasn't some way to get out.He found that one side and the top were of fine, stout wire, throughwhich he could look out, and that the other sides and the bottom were ofwood covered with wire, so that there was no chance for his sharp teethto gnaw a way out. In one corner was a stout piece of an apple-tree,with two little stubby branches to sit on, and half way up a littleround hole. Very cautiously Chatterer peeped inside the hole. Inside wasa splendid hollow. On the floor of the box was a little heap of shavingsand bits of rag. And there was a little pile of yellow corn. HowChatterer did hate the sight of that corn! You see, it was corn that hadgot him into all this trouble. At least, that is the way Chatterer feltabout it. When he had examined everything, he knew that there was no wayout. Chatterer was in a prison, though that is not what Farmer Brown'sboy called it. He
said it was a cage.
Illustration: Very cautiously Chatterer peeped inside the hole.
XIV CHATTERER DECIDES TO LIVE
At first Chatterer decided that he had rather die than live in a prison,no matter how nice that prison might be. It was a very foolish thing todo, but he made up his mind that he just wouldn't eat. He wouldn't touchthat nice, yellow corn Farmer Brown's boy had put in his prison for him.He would starve himself to death. Yes, Sir, he would starve himself todeath. So when he found that there was no way to get out of his prison,he curled up in the little hollow stump in his prison, where no onecould see him, and made up his mind that he would stay there until hedied. Life wasn't worth living if he had got to spend all the rest ofhis days in a prison. He wouldn't even make himself comfortable. Therewas that little heap of nice shavings and bits of rag for him to make anice comfortable bed of, but he didn't touch them. No, Sir, he justtried to make himself miserable.
Not once that long day did he poke so much as the tip of his nose out ofhis little round doorway. Ever so many times Farmer Brown's boy came tosee him, and whistled and called softly to him. But Chatterer didn'tmake a sound. At last night came, and the woodshed where his prison wasgrew dark and darker and very still. Now it was about this time thatChatterer's stomach began to make itself felt. Chatterer tried not tonotice it, but his stomach would be noticed, and Chatterer couldn'thelp himself. His stomach was empty, and it kept telling him so.