"That wouldn't help any," Mr. Crow said gloomily. Usually the merestmention of a scarecrow sent him into a rage. But now he was too angrywith Grandfather Mole to pick a quarrel with any one else. "GrandfatherMole couldn't see a scaremole if he ran head first into it," Mr. Crowcontinued. "And besides, even if he had eyes to see with, he's workingunderground. Grandfather Mole has dug galleries that run under thecornfield. And he can get right inside a hill of corn and gobble theseed corn without being seen."
"Then how do you know what Grandfather Mole is doing, when you can't seehim?" Jimmy Rabbit inquired.
"The corn isn't coming up as it should," Mr. Crow told him. "So Iscratched open a hill myself, to find out what was the matter."
"You didn't find Grandfather Mole, did you?" Jimmy Rabbit cried.
"No!" said Mr. Crow. "And I found no corn, either. But there was one ofGrandfather Mole's galleries leading up to the center of the hill. Soit's easy to guess where the corn goes."
Since news always travels fast in Pleasant Valley and tales such as Mr.Crow told spread more rapidly than any other, it wasn't long before Mrs.Robin repeated Mr. Crow's remarks in Grandfather Mole's hearing.
"What's that?" he called. "Please say that again!"
"Old Mr. Crow claims that you are eating Farmer Green's seed corn out ofthe hills," Mrs. Robin said. And she had the grace to grow somewhat redin the face, because it was hardly the sort of thing to say to an oldgentleman like Grandfather Mole.
For a few moments Grandfather Mole was silent. He couldn't say a wordfor himself. And Mrs. Robin whispered to some of her friends that itcertainly looked as if Grandfather Mole was guilty.
At last he managed to speak. But it was a most peculiar question that heasked; so far as Mrs. Robin could see, it had absolutely nothing to dowith the case:
"If you happen to see Mr. Meadow Mouse, will you tell him that I'd liketo have a talk with him?"
XVIII
A TALK WITH MR. MEADOW MOUSE
THE next time she saw Mr. Meadow Mouse Mrs. Robin gave him GrandfatherMole's message. "He says," said she, "he'd like to have a talk withyou."
"Does he?" Mr. Meadow Mouse exclaimed. "Now I wonder what he has to say!I returned his umbrella to him, after the rain. So it can't be aboutthat."
"If I wanted to know, I'd go and find Grandfather Mole," Mrs. Robinsuggested tartly.
Being a mild sort of person, Mr. Meadow Mouse thanked Mrs. Robinpolitely, both for the message and for the advice. And then, scamperingto a certain spot that he knew, near the fence, he disappeared throughan opening into the ground. It was one of Grandfather Mole's doorways.Mr. Meadow Mouse did not hesitate to use it, being one of thosefortunate folk that are quite at home anywhere. It made littledifference to him whether he was above the ground or in it. And asidefrom Grandfather Mole and his own family there was no one that knew hisway about Grandfather Mole's galleries as well as Mr. Meadow Mouse.
To be sure, he had some trouble in finding the old gentleman, there wereso many different passages in which to look for him. But at last Mr.Meadow Mouse met Grandfather Mole in a long tunnel that followed a rowof newly planted corn.
"Ah, ha!" Grandfather Mole cried. "There's something I want to say toyou."
"So I hear!" Mr. Meadow Mouse replied a bit anxiously, for GrandfatherMole sounded none too pleasant.
"You've been getting me into trouble with old Mr. Crow," GrandfatherMole complained. "He thinks I've been eating the seed corn that FarmerGreen planted. And if I told him that it was you that's done it, andthat you've been using my galleries to reach the hills of corn, Mr. Crowwould never believe what I said."
"It looks bad for you, doesn't it?" said Mr. Meadow Mouse morecheerfully.
Somehow his remark displeased Grandfather Mole.
"You'd better be careful what you say!" he warned Mr. Meadow Mouse. "Ifyou make me angry it will go hard with you."
Now, Grandfather Mole was known to be a terrible fighter when aroused.And Mr. Meadow Mouse had no liking for a fight with any one. So hemoved backward a few steps and made ready to run.
"I'm sorry if I have caused you trouble," he said. "Couldn't you explainto Mr. Crow that you have tunnelled into the hills of corn in order tocatch the grubs that would eat the corn if you didn't eat them first?Can't you tell him that you are helping the corn crop, instead ofruining it?"
Grandfather Mole shook his head.
"You're not much acquainted with Mr. Crow," he replied. "If he has madeup his mind that I'm stealing corn nothing I could say would change hisopinion."
"Can't I help you in some way?" Mr. Meadow Mouse asked. "I'd do almostanything, because you've let me use your galleries."
Grandfather Mole pondered for a time.
"Perhaps there is a way you can help," he said at last. "If you'llmanage somehow to let Mr. Crow catch you in one of these hills, withyour mouth full of corn, he'd know that you were the guilty party."
Mr. Meadow Mouse paled at the thought of such a situation. And his legsshook beneath him. "Oh! I--I couldn't do that!" he stammered. "Can't youthink of some other way?"
"Yes, I can!" Grandfather replied. "I'll let him catch me in a hill ofcorn."
"With corn in your mouth?" Mr. Meadow Mouse inquired eagerly.
"No!" said Grandfather Mole. "With _you_ in my mouth!" When he chose,Grandfather Mole could be very spry. And as he said those words he madea quick rush toward Mr. Meadow Mouse.
Then there was a great scurrying down there in the dark.
XIX
MR. CROW'S APOLOGY
IT was lucky for Mr. Meadow Mouse that he had placed a little distancebetween himself and Grandfather Mole down in the gallery under thecornfield. For when Grandfather Mole rushed at him, Mr. Meadow Mouse hadjust enough lead to escape. He made for the open air as fast as he couldscramble, knowing that Grandfather Mole could never catch him once hereached the great out-of-doors.
Perhaps it was only natural that Grandfather Mole should have beenangry with Mr. Meadow Mouse. Nobody likes to be accused ofthieving--especially when he is innocent. And when the realcorn thief (Mr. Meadow Mouse) declined to take the blame offGrandfather Mole's shoulders maybe his anger was not altogetheruncalled-for.
After all, Grandfather Mole was glad, in a way, that Mr. Meadow Mousehad got away from him. "It proves"--Grandfather Mole told himself--"itproves that Mr. Meadow Mouse is not only a thief: he's a coward aswell."
At the same time, any one that really knew old Mr. Crow couldn't haveblamed Mr. Meadow Mouse for not wanting to follow Grandfather'ssuggestion. Grandfather Mole had asked Mr. Meadow Mouse to allow Mr.Crow to catch him with his mouth full of corn, so that Mr. Crow mightknow that it wasn't Grandfather Mole that was taking the seed corn, asMr. Crow supposed.
Mr. Meadow Mouse was too well acquainted with old Mr. Crow to gethimself into any such fix as that.
When he found himself above ground, after Grandfather Mole had chasedhim out of his galleries, Mr. Meadow Mouse felt so pleased with himselfthat he couldn't help telling his neighbors about his adventure. Heboasted that he had been eating the seed corn out of the hills. And hedeclared that he didn't care if Mr. Crow heard of it himself.
"It's no more his corn than mine," Mr. Meadow Mouse said. "It belongs toFarmer Green. And since he has never spoken to me about missing any, Idon't believe he cares. Besides, I've often noticed that he drops morekernels in a hill than he expects will grow. And really I've been savinghim the trouble of pulling up a good many young stalks."
All this Mr. Meadow Mouse spread far and wide. And soon it reached theears of old Mr. Crow.
"Ha!" Mr. Crow exclaimed. "So he's the thief! I'll have to teach him alesson."
It was Jasper Jay that had related the news to his cousin, old Mr. Crow.And now he asked, "What about Grandfather Mole? Don't you think youought to apologize to him?"
That was a strange thing for Jasper Jay to ask. He was the greatestrowdy in the woods, with shocking manners.
Mr. Crow gave Jasper a sidewise glance.
/> "Will you apologize for me?" he inquired. "I'm too busy to do itmyself."
"Certainly I will!" Jasper Jay cried. "Leave that to me!" And he hurriedoff at once to find Grandfather Mole.
Jasper was lucky enough to see Grandfather Mole's head sticking out ofthe ground, when he reached the garden.
"I have a message for you!" Jasper told him. "My cousin Mr. Crow--theold black rascal!--was going to punish you for stealing corn. But he hasmade other arrangements."
"Mr. Crow"--Grandfather Mole spluttered--"Mr. Crow owes me an apology."
"Not now, he doesn't!" Jasper disputed.
"Why not?" Grandfather Mole cried.
"Because I've just brought his apology and given it to you," Jasper Jayreplied.
But Grandfather Mole told him to be gone, and to take the apology awaywith him.
"It's nothing but an insult!" Grandfather Mole declared.
XX
A SIGN OF RAIN
OVER near the garden fence lay an old hollow log. Grandfather Molediscovered it one day; and thinking that it would be a fine place tolook for grubs and other good things, he crept into one end of it.
If he had been able to see, near the other end of the log, a pair ofbright eyes that peered at him out of the darkness perhaps he would havebacked out in a hurry. But it was all right. The owner of the two eyeswas only Sandy Chipmunk. And he spoke pleasantly to Grandfather Mole, ina soft sort of chatter, because he didn't want to alarm him.
"Good afternoon!" said Grandfather Mole. At Sandy's first word he hadjumped. But as soon as he knew who was in the log with him he felt safeenough. "What are you doing here, young man?" Grandfather inquired.
"I came in to get out of the rain," Sandy told him.
"Rain!" Grandfather Mole exclaimed. "It's not raining!"
"I know that. But it's going to," Sandy Chipmunk replied.
"There's not the least sign of rain," Grandfather Mole declared. Beingolder than Sandy, he didn't hesitate to dispute what Sandy said. And henever troubled himself to apologize, either. Sandy Chipmunk noticedthat, for he had been carefully reared by his mother. But he knew thatGrandfather Mole was considered an odd old gentleman. And besides, whatcould Sandy have said that wouldn't have sounded rude?
"There's not a sign of rain," Grandfather Mole repeated, "so far as Ican see."
"How far can you see?" Sandy inquired politely.
"Tut, tut!" said Grandfather Mole. "What I mean is that I haven't_noticed_ anything that foretells rain. For instance, I haven't had atwinge of rheumatism since I don't know when."
"Well, I'm glad of that, anyhow," Sandy assured him. "But I saw a signof rain to-day that perhaps you never noticed."
"What was that?"
"Farmer Green's cat was washing her face on the doorsteps," Sandyexplained triumphantly. "It's a sure sign of rain. My mother has neverknown it to fail."
"Farmer Green's cat!" Grandfather Mole repeated after him. And heshuddered as he spoke. "Don't you know that she's not a trustworthyperson? You surely don't depend on her, I hope! She's not dependable."
"Well, you can always depend on her to jump at you," Sandy observed.
"She's a coward--that's what she is," Grandfather Mole scolded. "Younever heard of her chasing anybody that was bigger than herself, didyou? You never heard of her attacking Fatty Coon!"
Sandy Chipmunk said that if the cat hunted coons, she kept it toherself.
"She's too wise to run any risk," said Grandfather Mole. "But if she'swashing her face just because she expects rain, then she's stupid.
"If the cat wants to wash her face, why doesn't she stick her head outin the rain?" Grandfather Mole demanded. And without waiting for hisyoung companion to answer, he went on to say that in his opinion anybodythat washed his face in anything but dirt was stupid beyond all hope. "Iclaim," said Grandfather Mole, "that there's nothing quite like a dirtbath."
"There aren't many that would agree with you," Sandy Chipmunk toldhim.
"There's a lot of stupid people in this valley," Grandfather Moleretorted.
Sandy Chipmunk thought deeply for a few moments.
"I know of one person who would say you were right," he remarked atlast.
"Who's that?" Grandfather asked him.
"The boy, Johnnie Green!" Sandy Chipmunk replied. "If you could _see_his face you'd know that he takes a dirt bath every day!"
XXI
MRS. WREN TRIES TO HELP
"HAVE you found him yet?" Mrs. Rusty Wren asked Grandfather Mole one daywhen the old gentleman had left his dark underground home to brave thedangers of the garden.
"Found whom?" Grandfather Mole inquired.
"Why, your grandson! I saw him wandering about the garden a little whileago. And I supposed of course that you had come up to find him."
"Now, that's strange!" Grandfather Mole exclaimed. "I wasn't aware oneof them had strayed away from the house.... Which of my grandchildrenwas it that you saw!"
"I don't know them by name," Mrs. Wren replied. "But this was just atiny chap."
"Then it must be my little grandson Moses!" Grandfather Mole cried."He's the smallest of the lot.... I must find him at once, before thecat catches him."
Mrs. Wren saw that Grandfather Mole was greatly disturbed. And thoughshe had enough to do--goodness knows!--to look after her own family, shetold Grandfather Mole that she would help him find his grandchild.
"That's kind of you, I'm sure," Grandfather Mole remarked. "If I hadyour bright eyes I wouldn't need anybody's help."
"Oh, you're welcome!" Mrs. Wren assured him. "I shouldn't want ayoungster of mine walking about the garden alone. I'm glad to do what Ican. And meanwhile you had better stay close to that hole, for there'sno need of your running any risks. If I can't find young Moses Mole,then nobody can."
Grandfather Mole said she was very kind and that he would take heradvice. So he stationed himself beside the hole through which he hadlately appeared and waited there while Rusty Wren's wife looked for hisgrandson.
She was a quick, spry little body--was Mrs. Wren. It wasn't long beforeshe surprised the object of her search in the act of eating a fat grubbeside a pumpkin.
"Here he is!" Mrs. Wren called to Grandfather Mole. "I've found him. Doyou want to come and get him, or shall I bring him to you?"
Billy Woodchuck Calls on Grandfather Mole. (_Page 106_)]
"You'd better bring him," Grandfather Mole answered. And anybodycould see that he was vastly relieved.
A little later Mrs. Wren called to him again.
"What shall I do?" she asked. "He won't mind me. And he's too heavy forme to carry."
"That's Moses, without a doubt!" Grandfather Mole declared. "Yes!If he won't mind, it's certainly my grandson Moses. He's thelittlest of the family; and his mother has always spoiled him....I suppose"--Grandfather Mole added--"I suppose I'll have to go andget him."
"Wait a moment!" Mrs. Wren suddenly sang out. "There's some mistake.This little fellow says his name isn't Moses!"
Well, Grandfather Mole's mouth fell open, he was so surprised. "Thenwhat's his name?" he demanded.
"He says it's Mr. Shrew. And he seems very angry over something orother," Mrs. Wren explained.
"Tell me"--Grandfather Mole besought her--"has he a neck?"
Mrs. Wren glanced at the small person whose breakfast she hadinterrupted.
"Yes, he has one," she reported.
"Then he's no relation of mine," Grandfather Mole said. "Or at least,he's no more than a distant cousin. And I don't even know him." He wasrelieved to learn that his grandson Moses Mole was not wandering aboutthe garden, after all. "Maybe you never stopped to think that none ofour family have necks--so far as you can notice."
And now Mrs. Wren looked at Grandfather Mole. And she saw that his headwas set right on his shoulders.
"I was mistaken," she faltered. "I'm sorry if I upset you about yourgrandson."
"It doesn't matter now," Grandfather Mole assured her. "To be sure, Iwas alarmed. And when you said he
wouldn't mind I was sure it was Moses.
"Children," said Grandfather Mole, "are not brought up as strictly asthey were when I was young."
XXII
TWO FAMOUS DIGGERS
BILLY WOODCHUCK had decided to move into new quarters before coldweather set in. Old dog Spot had learned where he lived; and to Billy'sdismay Spot was spending altogether too much of his time watchingBilly's front door.
There was only one reason why Billy Woodchuck didn't exactly care to diga new home for himself in the pasture just then. The fall crop of cloverwas about to head out. And being very fond of clover blossoms, Billyhated to spend his time digging.
He was telling his troubles one day to old Mr. Crow. And as usual, Mr.Crow had an idea.
"Why don't you get somebody to help you?" he asked.
Billy Woodchuck looked a bit doubtful.
"Who is there?" he inquired. "Nobody would be willing to dig for meunless I paid him."
"Well--if I were you I'd offer a modest wage," Mr. Crow suggested.
But Billy Woodchuck shook his head.
"I couldn't pay anybody anything--unless it was clover-tops," heexplained. "And why should any one dig for them when there are thousandsto be had for the taking?"
Mr. Crow agreed that Billy Woodchuck knew what he was talking about.
"But," said Mr. Crow, "I've usually found that there's a way out ofevery difficulty. What you must do is to find somebody that _likes_ todig--somebody that is so crazy to dig that he'd help you just for thefun of the thing."