The Adventures Of Chatterer The Red Squirrel – Part 3

Chapter 8.

Chatterer grows careless.

When you grow careless,

Even though it be in matter small,

Old Mr.

Trouble,

You will find,

Is bound to make a call.

Some people never seem to learn that.

You would suppose that after all the trouble and worry Chatterer,

The Red Squirrel,

Had had,

He would have learned a lesson.

For a while,

It seemed as if he had.

Morning after morning,

Before anybody was up in Farmer Brown's house,

He visited Farmer Brown's corn crib,

Taking the greatest care not to be seen,

And get back to his home in the old orchard,

Before it was time for Farmer Brown's boy to come out and do his morning's work.

And in the corn crib,

He took the greatest care to steal,

Only where what he took would not be missed.

But after a while,

Nothing happened.

Chatterer grew careless.

But at first,

It had seemed very dangerous to go over to the corn crib.

But after he had been there often,

It didn't seem dangerous at all.

Once inside,

He would just give himself up to having a good time.

He raced about over the great pile of beautiful yellow corn,

And found the loveliest hiding places in it.

Oh,

Down in a dark corner,

He made a splendid bed from pieces of husk,

Which hadn't been stripped from some of the ears.

Oh,

It was quite the nicest place he had ever dreamed of,

Was Farmer Brown's corn crib.

He got the feeling that it was his own,

And not Farmer Brown's at all.

The more that feeling grew,

The more careless Chatterer became.

Soon he dropped a grain of corn now and then,

And was too lazy to go down and pick it up,

Or else he didn't think anything about it.

Farmer Brown's boy,

Coming every morning for corn for the hens,

Noticed these grains,

But supposed they were some that had been rubbed from the ears during the handling of them.

One morning,

Chatterer dropped a cob from which he had eaten all the corn.

He meant to get it and hide it,

As he had hidden the other cobs,

But he didn't want to do it just then and later.

Well,

Then he just forgot all about it.

Yes,

Sir,

He forgot all about it,

Until he had reached his home in the old orchard.

Oh,

Well,

It doesn't matter.

I can get it and hide it tomorrow morning,

Thought Chatterer.

Now,

A corn cob is a very simple thing.

Farmer Brown's boy knew where there was a whole pile of them,

Whom he added to that pile every day,

After shelling enough corn for the biddies.

So,

It would seem that there was nothing about a corn cob to make him open his eyes,

As he did that morning,

When he saw the one left by Chatterer,

The red squirrel.

But,

You see,

He knew that a bare corn cob had no business inside the corn crib.

And suddenly,

Those scattered grains of corn had new meaning for him.

A thief has been here after all.

Hmm,

I thought we were safe from rats and mice,

And I don't see now how they got in.

For I don't,

I really don't,

See how they could climb the stone legs of the corn crib,

He exclaimed.

But someone with sharp teeth certainly has been here.

It must be that I left the door open sometime,

And a rat has slipped in.

I'll just have to get after you,

Mr.

Rat or Mr.

Mouse.

We can't have you in our corn crib.

Well,

With that,

He went into the house.

Presently,

He came back,

And in one hand was a rat trap,

And in the other,

A mouse trap.

Chapter 9.

Chatterer Grows Too Curious Everybody knows how curious Peter Rabbit is.

He is forever poking his wobbly little nose in where it has no business to be.

And as a result,

Peter is forever getting into trouble.

Whenever Chatterer the Red Squirrel has heard a new story about Peter,

And the scrapes his curiosity has got him into,

Chatterer has said that Peter has got no more than he deserved.

As for himself,

He might be curious about a thing he saw for the first time,

But he had too much sense to meddle with it until he knew all about it.

So,

Chatterer has come to be thought very smart,

Quite too smart to be caught in a trap,

At least to be caught in an ordinary trap.

Now,

A great many people manage to make their neighbors think they are a great deal smarter than they really are,

And Chatterer is one of this kind.

Oh,

If some of his neighbors could have peeped into Farmer Brown's corn crib the morning after Farmer Brown's boy found the tell-tale corncob so carelessly dropped by Chatterer,

They would have been surprised.

Yes,

Sir,

They would have been surprised.

They would have seen Chatterer the Red Squirrel,

The boaster,

He the sharp of wits,

Showing quite as much curiosity as ever possessed Peter Rabbit.

Chatterer had come over to the corn crib,

As usual,

To get his daily supply of corn.

As usual,

He had raced about over the great pile of yellow corn.

Quite suddenly,

His sharp eyes spied something that they hadn't seen before.

It was down on the floor of the corn crib,

Quite near the door.

Hmm,

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 spied another queer-looking thing near it.

Only this was very much smaller.

What could they be?

He looked at them suspiciously.

Hmm,

They looked harmless enough.

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.

Well,

Still,

They didn't move.

He ran around on a little ledge where he could look right down on the queer little things.

He was sure now that they were not alive.

The biggest one he could see all through,

Inside,

Was something to eat.

The littlest thing was round and flat,

With funny bits of wire on top.

It looked as if it were made of wood.

And in the sides were little round holes,

Too small for him to put his head through.

Leave them alone,

Said a small voice inside of Chatterer.

You want to see what they are and find out all about them,

Said Chatterer.

No good ever comes with meddling with things you don't know about,

Said the small voice.

But they are such queer-looking things,

And they're not alive.

They can't hurt me,

Said Chatterer.

Nevertheless,

He ran back to the pile of corn and tried to eat.

Somehow,

He had lost his appetite.

He couldn't take his eyes off those two queer things down on the floor.

Better keep away,

Said the small voice inside.

Well,

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 by little,

Drew nearer to the two queer things.

The nearer he got,

The more harmless they looked.

Finally,

He reached out and smelled the smallest.

Then he turned up his nose.

Smells of mice,

Muttered Chatterer.

Just common barn mice.

Then he reached out a paw and touched it.

Poo,

Said he.

It's nothing to be afraid of.

Just then,

He touched one of the little wires,

And there was a sudden snap.

It frightened Chatterer so that he scurried away.

But he couldn't stay away.

That snap was such a funny thing,

And it hadn't done any 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 at it again,

Meddling with those little wires on top.

Every once in a while,

There would be a snap,

And he would scamper away.

Oh,

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 to wander 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.

Chapter 10.

Old Mr.

Trouble Gets Chatterer at Last Of course,

You have guessed what it was that Chatterer had been meddling with.

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 he didn't.

You see,

It was not at all like the traps Farmer Brown's boy had sometimes set for him in the green forest.

He knew all about those traps and never,

Never went near them.

Now that there was nothing more exciting about the mouse trap,

Chatterer turned his attention to the other queer thing.

He walked all around it and looked at it from every side.

It certainly was queer.

Yes,

Sir,

It certainly was queer.

It looked something like a little house,

Only he could see all through it.

He put one paw out.

Nothing happened.

He tried it again.

Then he jumped right on top of it.

Still,

Nothing happened.

He tried his sharp teeth on it,

But he could not bite it.

You see,

It was made of solid steel wire.

Inside was something that looked good to eat.

It smelled good,

Too.

Chatterer began to wonder what it would taste like.

The more he wondered,

The more he wanted to know.

There must be some way of getting in.

And if he could get in,

Of course,

He could get out again.

He jumped down to the floor and ran all around the queer little wire house.

At each end was a sort of little wire hallway.

Chatterer stuck his head in one.

Oh,

It seemed perfectly safe.

He crept a little way in and then backed out in a hurry.

Nothing happened.

He tried it again.

Still,

Nothing happened.

Let us stay away,

Said a small voice down inside of him.

Pooh!

Pooh's afraid,

Said Chatterer.

This thing can't hurt me.

Then he crept a little farther in.

Now,

Right in front of him was a little round doorway with a little wire door.

Chatterer pushed the little door with his nose and it opened a teeny weeny bit.

He drew back suspiciously.

Then he tried it again and this time pushed the little door a little farther open.

He did this two or three times until finally he had his head quite inside.

And there,

Right down below him,

Was that food he so wanted to taste.

I can hop right down and get it and then hop right up again,

Thought Chatterer.

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.

Oh,

It won't take but a minute,

Said Chatterer.

And I really must know what that tastes like.

With that,

He jumped down.

Snap!

Chatterer looked up.

The little wire door had closed.

Why,

Old Mr.

Trouble had got Chatterer at last.

Yes,

Sir.

He certainly had got Chatterer this time.

You see,

He couldn't open that little wire door from the inside.

He was in a trap.

A wire rat trap set by Farmer Brown's boy.

Chapter 11.

What happened next to Chatterer?

Were you ever terribly,

Terribly frightened?

That was the way Chatterer felt.

He was caught.

There was no doubt about it.

His sharp teeth were of no use on those hard wires.

He could look out between them,

But he couldn't get out.

He was too frightened to think.

His heart pounded against his sides until it hurt.

He forgot all about that odd food 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 was going to happen to him now?

What would Farmer Brown's boy do to him when he found him there?

Hark!

What was that?

It was a step just outside the door of the corn crib.

Farmer Brown's boy was coming.

Chatterer raced around his little wire prison and bit savagely at the hard wires.

But it was of no use.

No use at all.

It only hurt his mouth cruelly.

Then the door of the corn crib swung open.

A flood of light poured in.

And with it came Farmer 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 it was a rat or a mouse.

Well,

Well,

You little red rascal.

Didn't you know that thieves come to no good end?

Hmm,

You're pretty smart.

For I never once thought of you.

But you were not so smart as you thought.

Now I wonder what we had better do with you.

He picked up the trap with Chatterer in it and stepped out into the beautiful great out of doors.

Chatterer could see across the door yard to the old orchard and the familiar old stone wall along which he had scampered 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 without seeing those cruel wires which were keeping him from them.

Farmer Brown's boy put the trap down on the ground and then began to call.

Puss,

Puss,

Puss!

Called Farmer Brown's boy,

Chatterer's heart which had been thumping so,

Almost stopped beating with fright.

There was Black Pussy whom he had so often teased and made fun of.

Her yellow eyes had a hungry gleam as she walked around the trap and sniffed and sniffed and sniffed.

Never had Chatterer heard such a terrible sound as those hungry sniffs.

So close to him,

Black Pussy tried to put a paw between the wires and Chatterer saw the great cruel claws.

But Black Pussy couldn'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 Farmer Brown's boy.

Do you think you could catch him if I let him out?

Replied Black Pussy again.

And to poor Chatterer,

It seemed the awfulest sound he ever had heard.

Well,

We'll see about it by and by.

Said Farmer Brown's boy.

Oop!

There's the breakfast bell and I haven't fed the biddies yet.

Chapter 12.

Chatterer is sure that this is his last day.

There was no hope.

Not the teeniest,

Weeniest ray of hope in the heart of Chatterer.

As Farmer Brown's boy picked up the wire rat trap and started for the house.

Black Pussy the cat following at his heels and looking up at Chatterer with cruel,

Hungry eyes.

Chatterer took a farewell 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 the door of the farmhouse closed and shut it all out.

If there had been any hope in Chatterer's heart,

The closing of the door would have shut the last bid out.

But there wasn't any hope.

Chatterer was sure that he was to be given to Black Pussy for her breakfast.

Farmer Brown's boy put the trap on the table.

What have you there?

Called a great voice.

It was the voice of Farmer Brown himself who was eating his breakfast.

I've got the thief who has been stealing our corn in the crib.

Replied Farmer Brown's boy.

And who do you think it is?

One of those pesky rats.

Replied Farmer Brown.

I'm afraid you've been careless and left the door open some time.

Oh,

And that is how the rats have got 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 red squirrel we've seen racing along the wall at the edge of the old orchard 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 to look at Chatterer.

I don't know.

Replied Farmer Brown's boy.

Unless I give him to Black Puss for her breakfast,

She has been teasing me for him ever since I found him.

Farmer Brown's boy looked over to the other side of the table as he said this.

And his eyes twinkled with mischief.

Oh,

You mustn't do that.

That would be cruel.

Cried a soft voice.

You must take him down to the green forest and let him go.

A gentle face with pitying eyes was bent above the trap.

Just see how frightened the poor little thing is.

You must take him straight down to the green forest right after breakfast.

Isn't that just like mother?

Cried Farmer Brown's boy.

I believe it would be just the same with the ugliest rat that ever lived.

She would try to think of some excuse for letting it go.

God made all the little people who wear fur.

And they must have some place in his great plan.

Said Mrs.

Brown.

Farmer Brown laughed a big hearty laugh.

True enough,

Mother,

Said he.

The trouble is they get out of place.

Now this little rascal's place is down in the green forest and not in our corn crib.

Then put him back in his right place,

Was the prompt reply.

And they all laughed.

All this time poor chatterer was thinking that this surely was his last day.

You see,

He knew that he had been a thief.

And he knew that Farmer Brown's boy knew it.

He just crouched down in a little ball.

Too miserable to do anything but tremble every time anyone came near.

He was sure that he had seen for the last time the green forest and the green meadows.

And jolly Mr.

Sun and all the other beautiful things he loved so.

And it seemed as if his heart would burst with despair.

Chapter 13.

Chatterer is put in prison.

Whoever does a deed that's wrong will surely find someday that for that naughty act of his he'll surely have to pay.

That was the way with chatterer.

Of course,

He had no business to steal corn from Farmer Brown's corn crib.

To be sure,

He had felt that he had just as much right to that corn as Farmer Brown had.

You see,

The little people of the green meadows and the green forest feel that everything that grows belongs to them if they want it and are smart enough to get it before someone else does.

But it is just there that chatterer went wrong.

Farmer Brown had harvested that corn and stored it 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 the time that he was stealing.

But he tried to make himself believe that it was all right.

So he had kept on stealing and stealing until at last he was caught in a trap.

And now he had got to pay for his wrongdoing.

Chatterer was very miserable,

So miserable and frightened that he could do nothing but sit huddled up in a little shivery ball.

He hadn't the least doubt in the world that this was his very last day and that Farmer Brown's boy would turn him over to cruel black pussy for her breakfast.

Farmer Brown's boy had left him in the trap in the house and had gone out for a long time.

Chatterer could hear pounding out in the woodshed and Farmer Brown's boy was whistling as he pounded.

Chatterer wondered how he could whistle and seem so happy when he meant to do such a dreadful thing as give him to black pussy after what seemed a very long time.

Well,

Ages and ages Farmer Brown's boy came back.

He had with him an odd looking box.

There,

Said he,

Is a new home for you,

You little red imp.

I guess it will keep you out of trouble for a while.

He slid back a little door in the top of the box and then,

Putting on a stout glove and opening a little door in the trap,

He put in his big hand and closed it around Chatterer.

Poor little Chatterer.

He was sure now that this was the end and that he 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 glove gave his sharp little teeth no chance to hurt the hand that held him.

Even in his terror,

He noticed that the big hand tried to be gentle and squeezed him no tighter than was necessary.

Then he was lifted out of the trap and dropped through the little doorway in the top of the odd box and the door was fastened.

Nothing terrible had happened after all.

At first,

Chatterer just sulked in one corner.

He still felt sure that something terrible was going to happen.

Farmer Brown's boy took the box out into the shed and put it where the sun shone into it.

For a little while,

He stayed watching,

But Chatterer still sulked and sulked.

By and by,

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 wonder what sort of 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 through which he could look out,

And the other sides and the bottom were of wood covered with wire,

So that there was no chance for his sharp teeth to gnaw a way out.

In one corner was a stout piece of an apple tree with two little stubby branches to sit on,

And halfway up a little round hole.

Very cautiously,

Chatterer peeped inside the hole.

Inside was a splendid hollow.

On the floor of the box was a little heap of shavings and bits of rag,

And there was a little pile of yellow corn.

How Chatterer did hate the sight of that corn.

You see,

It was corn that had got him into all this trouble.

At least that is the way Chatterer felt about it.

When he had examined everything,

He knew that there was no way out.

Chatterer was in a prison,

Though that is not what Farmer Brown's boy called it.

He said it was a cage.

Chapter 14.

Chatter 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 to do,

But he made up his mind that he just wouldn't eat.

He wouldn't touch that nice yellow corn Farmer Brown's boy had put in his prison for him.

Yes,

Sir,

He would starve himself to death.

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 one could see him,

And he made up his mind that he would stay there until he died.

Life wasn't worth living if he had got to spend all the rest of his days in a prison.

He wouldn't even make himself comfortable.

There was that little heap of nice shavings and bits of rag for him to make a nice comfortable bed of,

But he didn't touch them.

No,

Sir,

He just tried to make himself miserable.

Not once that long day did he poke so much as the tip of his nose out of his little round doorway.

Ever so many times Farmer Brown's boy came to see him,

And whistled and called softly to him,

But chatterer didn't make a sound.

At last night came,

And the woodshed where his prison was grew dark,

Darker,

Very still.

Now,

It was about this time that chatterer's stomach began to make itself felt.

Chatterer tried not to notice it,

But his stomach would be noticed,

And chatterer couldn't help himself.

His stomach was empty,

And it kept telling himself,

I'm going to starve to death,

Said chatterer to himself over and over.

I'm going to starve to death.

I'm empty,

And there is plenty of food to fill me up.

If only you'll stop being silly,

Whispered his stomach.

Why,

The more chatterer tried not to think of how good something to eat would taste,

The more he did think of it.

It made him restless and uneasy.

He twisted and squirmed and turned.

At last,

He decided that he would have one more look to see if he couldn't find some way to get out of his prison.

He poked his head out of the little round doorway.

All was still and dark.

He listened,

But not a sound could he hear.

Then he softly crept out and hurriedly examined all the inside of his prison once more.

It was of no use.

There wasn't a single place where he could use his sharp teeth.

There is that little pile of corn waiting for me,

Whispered his stomach.

Touch it,

Said chatterer fiercely.

Just then he hit something with his foot and it rolled.

He picked it up and then put it down again.

Hmm,

It was a nut,

A plump hickory nut.

Two or three times he picked it up and put it down.

And each time it was harder than before to put it down.

I'd like to taste one more nut before I starve to death,

Muttered chatterer.

And almost without knowing it,

He began to gnaw the hard shell.

When that nut was finished,

He found another.

And when that was gone,

Still another.

Then he just had to taste a grain of corn.

Why,

The first thing chatterer knew,

The nuts and the corn were all gone.

And his stomach was full.

Somehow he felt ever so much better.

Well,

He didn't feel like starving to death now.

I believe I'll wait a bit and see what happens,

Said he to himself.

While I'm waiting,

I may as well be comfortable.

With that,

He began to carry the shavings and rags into the hollow stump.

And soon had as comfortable a bed as he had ever slept on.

Chatterer had decided to live.