Читать книгу Tales from the Storyteller's House - Thornton Waldo Burgess - Страница 10

The King is wise; The King is strong; The King, you know, Can do no wrong.

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“It is just as I told Billy, there is no king in the Green Forest. No king rules over the Green Meadows, the Old Pasture, the Smiling Pool or the Old Orchard. The little people living there have only Old Mother Nature to obey. They are quite satisfied that this should be so, and have been ever since the great meeting at which were present all the big and little people who wear fur, or feathers, or scales, or just plain skins, to choose a king, and didn’t.

“Just how that great meeting came about I don’t know for sure, but I have heard that Peter Rabbit was the cause of it. It seems that somehow Peter got it into that funny little head of his that the animals and birds would be a lot better off if they had a king to rule over them. He could think and talk of nothing else.

“ ‘Not since the days when the world was young, and old King Bear is said to have ruled in the Green Forest, has there been a king over the people of the Green Forest and the Green Meadows as there should have been and should be now,’ declared Peter. ‘If we had a king wise enough to know what is right, and strong enough to make everybody do what is right, we would be a lot better off, and happier. We ought to have a king. Yes, sir, we ought to have a king.’

“Now if you repeat a thing often enough others will begin to believe it. At first Peter was laughed at. He didn’t mind. He just kept on telling everybody that they should have a king. Hearing it so often others began to talk about it and to think that perhaps after all Peter was right. Soon talk of a king was heard everywhere. The littlest people were in favor of it because they thought that thus in times of trouble they would have someone to go to for help. Some of the big folks were in favor of it because each secretly hoped that he would be the one chosen to rule over the others. Of course this was a secret that each kept to himself, or thought he did. But it was to be noticed that these were the ones who talked most about the need of a king.

“At last it was decided to call a great meeting of all the people, big and little, who wore fur, feathers, scales, or just plain skins. But first Peter Rabbit went to Old Mother Nature to tell her what it was proposed to do and to ask her permission. You see, without this none dared call such a meeting. Old Mother Nature said that she thought it would be a fine thing and that she herself would preside at the meeting. Then the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind were sent hurrying and scurrying in every direction to spread the news of the great meeting to choose a king.

“The great day arrived. The meeting place was on the edge of the Green Forest. Even before jolly, round, bright Mr. Sun began his daily climb up in the blue, blue sky, Old Mother Nature was there. She was on hand to make sure that not even the smallest and weakest should have anything to fear. With daylight the furred and feathered people and others began to arrive. Of course one of the first was Peter Rabbit. With him was his cousin, Jumper the Hare. About the same time Hooty the Owl arrived, and there was such a hungry look in his great, round, yellow eyes as he glared at them that Peter and Jumper kept to a bramble-tangle despite the presence of Old Mother Nature.

“As silently as the Black Shadows had disappeared came Flathorns the Moose. Not a twig snapped. Not a leaf rustled. One instant there was no sign of him, and the next instant there he was in a thicket on the edge of the Green Forest. As silently and as secretly came Buster Bear. Lightfoot the Deer approached timidly. From the Old Pasture came Reddy Fox. Across from him sat Old Man Coyote. Howler the Wolf came boldly, without fear. Yowler the Bobcat, Tufty the Lynx and their big cousin, Puma the Mountain Lion, sneaked to their places as is their way.

“All the smaller people—Whitefoot the Wood Mouse, Danny Meadow Mouse, Nimbleheels the Jumping Mouse, Timmy the Flying Squirrel, Chatterer the Red Squirrel, Striped Chipmunk, Happy Jack the Gray Squirrel—were on hand early. Johnny Chuck and Digger the Badger came from the Green Meadows. Billy Mink and his cousins, Shadow the Weasel and Little Joe Otter, were on hand in good season. Jerry Muskrat and Paddy the Beaver came, the one up the Laughing Brook from the Smiling Pool, and the other down the Laughing Brook from the pond of his own making deep in the Green Forest. Prickly Porky the Porcupine arrived grunting and complaining, while Jimmy Skunk paid no attention to anyone and didn’t hurry. Unc’ Billy Possum and Bobby Coon were late, but they got there.

“Of the feathered folk it appeared that none was missing. Mr. Eagle, Ol’ Mistah Buzzard, Blacky the Crow, all the members of the Hawk family, Sammy Jay, Rattles the Kingfisher, Longlegs the Heron, Honker the Goose, Mr. Quack, Thunderer the Grouse, Bob White, Welcome Robin, Winsome Bluebird and all the others were on hand. When she was sure that all had arrived Old Mother Nature looked around the great circle and smiled. Then she spoke.

“ ‘I understand, my children,’ said she, ‘that many of you are not satisfied with the way in which I govern you and so you desire a king to rule over you in my place. Is that it?’

“At first none replied. Each looked at his neighbor and on all faces was a queer expression. At last Peter Rabbit found his tongue. ‘It—it—it isn’t that we are not satisfied with your rule, Mother Nature,’ he stammered. ‘No indeed, it isn’t anything of the kind. We—we just thought it might be well to have someone to keep things right, and to whom we could take our troubles, when you are not about. Of course we don’t expect or want anyone even to try to take your place, Mother Nature. No one could do that.’ And all the others chanted together, ‘Of course not.’

“ ‘Very well,’ said Old Mother Nature. ‘I want all my children to be happy. So if having a king will make you happy, and you can agree on who shall be the king, there is no harm in trying it. One of your number must be chosen, and it is for you to choose. Of course a king should be big and strong, for only thus may he command respect. Is it not so?’

“ ‘It is so!’ cried all the people, big and little, as in one voice.

“ ‘He must have dignity, for the undignified are laughed at, and the king must not be laughed at,’ continued Old Mother Nature.

“Once again all nodded in assent. ‘It is so!’ they cried.

“ ‘He must be wise, for only through wisdom is justice to be obtained,’ said Old Mother Nature.

“ ‘It is so. Most certainly it is so,’ declared all the animals and birds and other folk, and solemnly nodded their heads in agreement.

“There was a twinkle which none saw in the eyes of Old Mother Nature when she next spoke. ‘You will bear these things in mind then as you choose your king,’ said she. ‘First I will call before me, one at a time, the largest among you, for your king must be big. The rest of you shall choose. We will begin with the largest. Flathorns the Moose, step forth and come before me.’

“Proudly Flathorns stepped out of the thicket in which he had been standing, and all those too small to hope to be king drew a long breath of admiration for his great size, his strength, and his dignity. They were about to shout as one ‘He shall be our king!’ when one of the great antlers which crowned his head fell at his feet so that he had only half a crown, as it were. All knew that the other antler would soon drop. There was no dignity left. Someone laughed. Then all together they shouted: ‘We don’t want him! Our king must have dignity.’

“Buster Bear was called next. He was big and he was strong, even as was Flathorns the Moose. But when he walked he shuffled, and when he stood before Old Mother Nature he kept swinging his head from side to side, so that he, too, lacked dignity. Then someone remembered that Buster Bear sleeps through the coldest weather. A sleeping king would be no better than no king at all.

“ ‘We don’t want him! Our king must be awake,’ cried all in chorus.

“Lightfoot the Deer was next. Handsome was he and proud he looked as with his beautiful head held high he stepped forth. Then a twig was snapped. Lightfoot jumped and turned quickly. There was fright in his beautiful eyes.

“ ‘We don’t want him! Our king must be without fear,’ chanted all the animals and birds.

“Then was Howler the Wolf called forth. He was big and great was his strength. There was dignity in his walk and in the way in which he stood before Old Mother Nature. But as he had stepped forward he had lifted his lips just enough to show for an instant the gleam of his big cruel teeth, and all the littlest people shivered. Thus he proved that he lacked wisdom, for that was a foolish thing he had done.

“ ‘We don’t want him! Our king must be wise,’ cried all the people, and Howler slunk back whence he had come.

“Puma the Mountain Lion was refused because he was a sneak, and Tufty the Lynx and Yowler the Bobcat were rejected for the same reason. Then came Mr. Eagle who by some was called King of the Birds. Mr. Eagle spread his great wings and sailed over to where Old Mother Nature was seated. He alighted on a stump before her. There was dignity and there was strength and there was majesty in his appearance. He looked every inch a feathered king. Old Mother Nature bade him approach nearer along the ground. Alas, his great curved claws were so much in his way, and he hopped so awkwardly, that many laughed aloud. ‘He robs me of my fish!’ screamed Plunger the Osprey.

“ ‘We don’t want him! Our king must be respected,’ cried all the animals and birds and other folk.

“Old Mother Nature looked around the great circle and smiled. ‘Well, my children,’ said she, ‘who is your king to be? You have refused all who are big and strong, yet you have said that your king must be big and strong. Who is your king to be?’

“All the birds and the animals and the other folk from the greatest to the least looked as foolish as they felt, and they felt very foolish indeed. Suddenly Peter Rabbit kicked up his long heels. ‘I don’t want a king!’ he cried. ‘Mother Nature is all the ruler I want. I’m going straight home to the dear Old Briar-patch and forget I ever thought I wanted a king.’ He made a low bow before Old Mother Nature, then away he went in his usual fashion—”

“Lipperty-lipperty-lipperty-lip!” chanted the children.

“Just so,” said the Storyteller. “Then, each in turn, all the other animals and all the birds and all the other people bowed before Old Mother Nature and hurried away. At last she was alone, and smiling happily went her way. And that, boys and girls, is why there is no king in the Green Forest. Goodness, it is getting late! If you youngsters are not home pretty soon I fear mothers will say: ‘No more storytelling.’ Who will bring the story-log next time?”

It seemed that everyone there wanted the privilege, so the Storyteller was forced to decide who should be the favored one. Slowly he looked over the eager faces. “Rosemary,” he decided. “Rosemary, you shall bring the story-log next time. Now straight home with you, every one of you, as fast as you can go!”

There was a rush for coats and hats, the good-bys were said, and presently the Storyteller was alone in the Old House to dream before the dying embers in the great fireplace as many had dreamed there before him.

Tales from the Storyteller's House

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