The blowing away of Mr. Bushy Tail

“_And when she got there The cupboard was bare_--”]

It had been an exceptionally cold winter, and Mr. and Mrs. Bushy Tail had found it very difficult to keep themselves and their two small children warm.

They had finally moved into Grandmother Chipmunk’s house tree, which seemed to be more protected from the high winds and the heavy snow-storms, than their own pretty little nest. The rooms were rather small, however, and Grandmother Chipmunk snored most awfully, so that for several nights Baby Bushy Tail could not sleep.

One cold snowy day, Mrs. Bushy Tail came into the living-room with a very sober face.

“My dear,” she said to her husband, “the acorns and pine-cones are nearly gone, and with the exception of a few dried apples and lettuce leaves, there is nothing left in the cupboard.”

“Ttt, Ttt,” said Grandma Chipmunk, laying down her knitting, and looking over her spectacles. “Whatever shall we do? Starve?”

Thereupon little Frisky, the oldest boy, set up a fearsome squeaking, for he liked good things to eat, and did not want to starve.

Of course that started the baby off, and for a few moments no one could hear themselves think, much less talk.

Frisky having been sent out of the room, and the baby being pacified with an acorn-cup to play with, Mr. Bushy Tail spoke:

“There’s only one thing to do;” said he, “go across the frozen pond, and through the woods, to either my cousin Red Squirrel’s or else to the Chipmunks’. They will gladly lend me corn or oats enough to feed us for another month, and by that time let us hope that Spring will have come.”

“You’ll freeze in the deep snow,” said his wife, “or else you will be blown to the North Pole by the fierce wind. Then I shall be a widow, and what will the children do? Oh dear! Oh dear!” and she began to cry.

Mr. Bushy Tail comforted her as best he could, saying that he knew the path well, that the trees would protect him from the fierce wind, and that he was too nimble and quick to sink and freeze in the deep snow.

At last, he promised not to go the next morning, unless the weather was fine, so they all went to bed in their soft mossy nests.

Not a Creature was Stirring Not Even a Mouse

“_Not a creature was stirring Not even a mouse_--”]

Bright and early the next morning, Mr. Bushy Tail was up, had washed his little face and paws, and brushed out his pretty soft fur, of which he was justly a trifle vain. The sun was shining, and although the air was very cold, he decided it was best for him to start for his cousin Red Squirrel’s.

His wife bundled him up in a warm sweater and socks, which she had made him for a Christmas present. Over his shoulder he slung a bag for the corn, and promising surely to be back in two days time, he trotted away, after having kissed the entire family three times all around.

The traveling was much better than he had feared it would be; and he was fortunate enough to find a bush full of late rose-hips, from which he made a good dinner.

Just as it was growing dark, he reached his cousin Red Squirrel’s house tree, and knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, he went in, for the neighborhood was a very honest one, and nobody locked their front doors, or their back ones either.

Poor Mr. Bushy Tail went from room to room, but to his sorrow he found no one, not even a mouse. There were some acorns and dried apples stowed away in one corner, so he made a passable supper, but he was worried by the thought, that the next day he must go on to the Chipmunks’ for the corn, and so might be unable to reach home the same night, as he had promised his little wife.

However, there was no use in borrowing trouble, so he curled himself up in a warm corner, covered his back with his broad bushy tail, and was soon fast asleep, and dreaming that he had carried home a whole barrel full of food.