Buster John was ready to laugh at this, but he soon discovered that Mr. Thimblefinger was right. He found that he could hop and jump ever so far in this queer country, and the first use he made of the discovery was to jump over Drusilla’s head. This he did with hardly any effort. After that the journey of the children, which had grown somewhat tiresome (though they wouldn’t say so), became a frolic. They skimmed along over the gray fields with no trouble at all, but Drusilla found it hard to retain her balance when she jumped high. Mr. Thimblefinger, who had a reason for everything, was puzzled at this. He paused a while and stood thinking and rubbing his [Pg 34] chin. Then he said that either Drusilla’s head was too light or her heels too heavy—he couldn’t for the life of him tell which.
There was one thing that bothered the children. If Mr. Thimblefinger’s house was just big enough to fit him (as Buster John expressed it), how could they go inside? Sweetest Susan was so troubled that she asked Drusilla about it. But Drusilla shook her head vigorously.
“Don’t come axin’ me,” she cried. “I done tol’ you all right pine-blank not ter come. Ef de house lil’ like dat creetur is, what you gwine do when night come? En den spozen ’pon top er dat dat a big rain come up? Oh, I tol’ you ’fo’ you started! Who in de name er sense ever heah talk er folks gwine down in a spring? You mought er know’d sump’in gwine ter happen. Oh, I tol’ you!”
There was no denying this, and Sweetest Susan and her brother were beginning to feel anxious, when an exclamation from Mr. Thimblefinger attracted their attention.
“We are nearly there,” he shouted. “Yonder is the house. My! won’t the family be surprised when they see you!”
[Pg 35] Sure enough there was the house, and it was not a small one, either. Drusilla said it looked more like a barn than a house, but Buster John said it didn’t make any difference what it looked like so long as they could rest there and get something to eat, for they had had no dinner.
“I hope dey got sho’ ’nuff vittles—pot-licker an’ dumplin’s, an’ sump’in you kin fill up wid,” said Drusilla heartily.
Mr. Thimblefinger, who had been running a little way ahead, suddenly paused and waited for the children to come up.
“Come to think of it,” he remarked, “you may have heard of some of my family. I call them my family, but they are no kin to me. We just live together in the same house for company’s sake.”
“They are not fairies?” suggested Sweetest Susan.
Mr. Thimblefinger shook his head. “Oh, no! Just common every-day people like myself. We put on no airs. Did you ever hear of Mrs. Meadows? And Mr. Rabbit? And Mrs. Rabbit?”
“Dem what wuz in de tale?” asked Drusilla.
[Pg 36] “Yes,” said Mr. Thimblefinger, “the very same persons.”
“Sho’ ’nuff!” exclaimed Drusilla. “Why, we been hear talk er dem sence ’fo’ we wuz knee-high.”
Sweetest Susan and Buster John said they had often heard of Mr. Rabbit and Mrs. Meadows. This seemed to please Mr. Thimblefinger very much. He smiled and nodded approval.
“Did they ever have you in a story?” asked Buster John.
“No, no!” replied Mr. Thimblefinger. “I was so little they forgot me.” He laughed at his own joke, but it was very plain that he didn’t relish the idea of not having his name in a book.
Presently the children came to the house, but they hesitated at the gate and stood there in fear and trembling. What they saw was enough to frighten them. An old woman was sitting in a chair knitting. She was not different from many old women the children had seen, but near her sat a Rabbit as big as a man. He was a tremendous creature, grizzly and gray, and watery-eyed from age. He sat in a rocking-chair smoking a pipe.
MR. RABBIT AND MRS. MEADOWS
[Pg 37] “Le’ ’s go back,” whispered Drusilla. “Dat ar creetur bigger dan a hoss. Ef he git a glimp’ us we er gone—gone!”
Sweetest Susan shivered and looked at Buster John, and Buster John looked at Mr. Thimblefinger. But Mr. Thimblefinger ran forward, crying out:—
“Howdy, folks, howdy! I’ve brought some friends home to dinner.” He beckoned to the children. “Come on and see Mrs. Meadows and Mr. Rabbit.”
Mrs. Meadows immediately dropped her knitting in her lap, and threw her hands up to her head, as if to arrange her hair.
“Come in,” said Mr. Thimblefinger to the children.
“Yes, come on,” exclaimed Mr. Rabbit in a voice that sounded as if he had a bad cold.
“I’m in no fix to be seen,” said Mrs. Meadows, “but I’m glad to see you, anyhow. Come right in. Take off your things and make yourself at home. How did you get here? I reckon that little trick there has been telling tales out of school.” She pointed at Mr. Thimblefinger and laughed.
[Pg 38] “He brought us,” said Sweetest Susan. “I’m sorry we came.”
“Now, don’t say that,” remarked Mrs. Meadows kindly. “What are you afraid of?”
“Of him,” replied Sweetest Susan, nodding her head toward Mr. Rabbit.
“Is that all?” exclaimed Mrs. Meadows. “Why, he’s as harmless as a kitten.”
“Yes, yes!” said Mr. Rabbit complacently. “No harm in me—no harm in old people. Just give us a little room in the corner—a little place where we can sit and nod—and there’s no harm in us. I’m just as glad you’ve come as I can be. I see you’ve brought the Tar Baby. She’s grown some since I saw her last.” Mr. Rabbit looked at Drusilla with considerable curiosity. “I hope she’s not as sticky as she used to be.”
“Hey!” cried Buster John, laughing. “Mr. Rabbit thinks Drusilla is the Tar Baby!”
Drusilla tossed her head scornfully. “Huh! I ain’t no Tar Baby. I may be a nigger, an’ I speck I is, but I ain’t no Tar Baby. My mammy done tol’ me ’bout de Tar Baby in de tale, an’ she got it fum her gran’daddy. Ef I’m [Pg 39] de Tar Baby, I’m older dan my mammy’s gran’daddy.”
Mr. Rabbit took off his spectacles and wiped them on his coat-tail. “My eyes are getting very bad,” he said, by way of apology. “But you certainly look very much like the Tar Baby. If you were both together in the dark, nobody could tell you apart. Well, well! I’m getting old.”
“You ain’t no older dan you look,” said Drusilla spitefully under her breath.
“Hush!” whispered Sweetest Susan. “He’ll eat us up.”
Mrs. Meadows laughed. “Don’t worry, child. Mr. Rabbit loves his pipe and a joke, but he’ll never hurt you. Never in the world.”
“But this isn’t in the world,” suggested Buster John.
“Well, it’s next door, as you may say,” Mrs. Meadows replied.
Just then Mr. Rabbit slowly raised himself from his chair and examined the seat closely. “I missed Mr. Thimblefinger,” he said, “and I was afraid I had sat on him.”
“Oh, no!” cried Mr. Thimblefinger, coming [Pg 40] out from under the steps; “I was just resting myself.”
“Mr. Thimblefinger will take care of himself, I’ll be bound,” exclaimed Mrs. Meadows. “He’s little; but is a mountain strong because it is big?”
“Why, that puts me in mind of the story—But never mind! I’m always thinking about old times.” Mr. Rabbit sighed as he said this.
“Oh, please tell us the story,” pleaded Sweetest Susan, anxious to make friends with Mr. Rabbit.
He shook his head. “Mrs. Meadows can tell it better than I can.”
“Dinner!” cried Mr. Thimblefinger. “What about dinner?”
“Dinner’ll be ready directly,” replied Mrs. Meadows.
“But the story?” Sweetest Susan said.
THE STRONGEST—WHO? OR WHICH?
“Well,” replied Mrs. Meadows, “it was like this: One time in the country where we came from—the country where you live now—there chanced to be a big frost, and the mill-pond froze [Pg 41] over. Mr. Rabbit ran along that way and found that the pond had this bridge across it.”
“Was it this Mr. Rabbit here?” asked Buster John.
Mrs. Meadows folded her hands in her lap and looked at them. “Well,” she said, “I never talk about folks behind their backs. You must do your own guessing. Anyway, Mr. Rabbit found the ice bridge over the pond, and as he was in something of a hurry he skipped across it. I mean he skipped a part of the way. The Ice was so slippery that when he got about halfway, his feet slipped from under him and he fell kerthump! He got up and rubbed himself as well as he could, and then he thought that the Ice must be very strong to hit him so hard a lick. He said to the Ice, ‘You are very strong.’
“‘I am so,’ replied the Ice.
“‘Well, if you are so strong, how can the Sun melt you?’
“The Ice said nothing, and so Mr. Rabbit asked the Sun, ‘Are you very strong?’
“‘So they tell me,’ replied the Sun.
“‘Then how can the Clouds hide you?’
“The Sun was somewhat ashamed and had [Pg 42] nothing to say. So Mr. Rabbit looked at the Clouds.
“‘Are you very strong?’
“‘We have heard so,’ replied the Clouds.
“‘How can the Wind blow you?’
“The Clouds sailed away, and Mr. Rabbit asked the Wind, ‘Are you very strong?’
“‘I believe you,’ said the Wind.
“‘Then how can the Mountain stand against you?’
“The Wind blew itself away, and then Mr. Rabbit asked the Mountain, ‘Are you very strong?’
“‘So it seems,’ replied the Mountain.
“‘How can the Mouse make a nest in you?’
“The Mountain was mum. So Mr. Rabbit asked the Mouse, ‘Are you very strong?’
“‘I believe so,’ replied the Mouse.
“‘How can the Cat catch you?’
“The Mouse hid in the grass. Mr. Rabbit asked the Cat, ‘Are you very strong?’
“‘Yes, indeed,’ replied the Cat.
“‘How can the Dog chase you?’
“The Cat began to wash her face. Then Mr. Rabbit said to the Dog, ‘Are you very strong?’
[Pg 43] “‘I certainly am,’ replied the Dog.
“‘Then why does the Stick scare you?’
“The Dog began to scratch the fleas off his neck, and Mr. Rabbit said to the Stick, ‘Are you very strong?’
“‘Everybody says so.’
“‘Then how can the Fire burn you?’
“The Stick was dumb, and Mr. Rabbit asked the Fire, ‘Are you very strong?’
“‘Anybody will tell you so,’ the Fire answered.
“‘How can the Water quench you?’
“The Fire hid behind the smoke. Then Mr. Rabbit asked the Water, ‘Are you very strong?’
“‘Strong is no name for it,’ said the Water.
“‘How can the Ice cover you?’
“The Water went running down the river, and after it had gone the Ice said to Mr. Rabbit, ‘You see you had to come back to me at last.’
“‘Yes,’ replied Mr. Rabbit, ‘and now I am going away. You are too much for me.’ Then Mr. Rabbit loped off, rubbing his bruises.”
“Was it really you, Mr. Rabbit?” asked Sweetest Susan.
Mr. Rabbit rubbed his mustache with the end [Pg 44] of his pipe-stem. “Well, I’ll tell you the truth. I was mighty foolish in my young days. But now all I want to do is to eat breakfast, and then wait until dinner is ready, and then sit and wait until supper is put on the table.”
Mrs. Meadows winked at the children and then turned to Mr. Rabbit.
“Now,” said she, “I’ve told the story you ought to have told, for you know more about it than anybody else. It’s as little as you can do to sing the old song that you sung when you used to go frolicking.”
“Why, it’s about myself!” exclaimed Mr. Rabbit. “At my time of life it would never do.”
“Please make him sing it,” said Sweetest Susan, who was much given to getting her own way by the pretty little art of coaxing.
“Oh, he’ll sing it,” replied Mrs. Meadows confidently. “He can’t refuse.”
Mr. Rabbit shook his head, and then seemed to fall into a brown study, but suddenly, seeing that they were all waiting for the song, he cleared up his throat, and after several false starts sang this song:—
Oh, this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass; He courted Miss Meadows, when her ma was away, He crossed his legs, and said his say. He crossed his legs, and he winked his eye, And then he told Miss Meadows good-by. So it’s good-by, ducky, And it’s good-by, dear! I’ll never come to see you Until next year! For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.
And he cried from the gate, so bold and free: “I know you are glad to get rid of me.” And then Miss Meadows shook her head— “If you stay too long you’ll find me dead. And it’s good-by, ducky, And it’s good-by, dear! You’ll find me dead When you come next year!” For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.
Mr. Owl called out from the top of the tree, “Oh, who? Oh, who?” and “He-he-he!” Mr. Fox slipped off in the woods and cried; Mr. Coon’s broken heart caused a pain in his side. For it’s good-by, ducky, And it’s good-by, dear! If you ever come to see me, Come before next year! [Pg 46] For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.
Mr. Rabbit looked around, and saw all the trouble, And he laughed and he laughed till he bent over double. He shook his head, and said his say— “I’ll come a-calling when to-morrow is to-day. For when you have a ducky, Don’t stay—don’t stay— Go off and come again When to-morrow is to-day.” For this is Mr. Rabbit, that runs on the grass, So rise up, ladies, and let him pass.