The Burgess Animal Book for Children by Thornton W. Burgess (ebook reader 7 inch .TXT) đź“•
Happy Jack," said she, "you may tell us all you know about your cousin, Chatterer."
"To begin with, he is the smallest of the Tree Squirrels," said Happy Jack. "He isn't so very much bigger than Striped Chipmunk, and that means that he is less than half as big as myself. His coat is red and his waistcoat white; his tail is about two-thirds as long as his body and flat but not very broad. Personally, I don't think it is much of a tail."
At once Chatterer's quick temper flared up and he began to scold. But Old Mother Nature silenced him and told
Read free book «The Burgess Animal Book for Children by Thornton W. Burgess (ebook reader 7 inch .TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Thornton W. Burgess
- Performer: -
Read book online «The Burgess Animal Book for Children by Thornton W. Burgess (ebook reader 7 inch .TXT) 📕». Author - Thornton W. Burgess
“This finishes the lessons on the order of Rodents, the animals related by reason of having teeth for the purpose of gnawing. I suspect these are the only ones in whom you take any interest, and so you will not care to come to school any more. Am I right?”
“No, marm,” answered Happy Jack the Gray Squirrel, who, you remember, had laughed at Peter Rabbit for wanting to go to school. “No, marm. There are ever so many other people of the Green Forest and the Green Meadows we want to know more about than we now know. Isn’t that so?” Happy Jack turned to the others and every one nodded, even Prickly Porky.
“There is one little fellow living right near here who looks to me as if he must be a member of the Mouse family, but he isn’t like any of the Mice you have told us about,” continued Happy Jack. “He is so small he can hide under a leaf. I’m sure he must be a Mouse.”
“You mean Teeny Weeny the Shrew,” replied Old Mother Nature, smiling at Happy Jack. “He isn’t a Mouse. He isn’t even a Rodent. I’ll try to have him here tomorrow morning and we will see what we can find out about him and his relatives.”
CHAPTER XIX Teeny Weeny and His Cousin
“Of course Old Mother Nature knows, but just the same it is hard for me not to believe that Teeny Weeny is a member of the Mouse family,” said Happy Jack Squirrel to Peter Rabbit, as they scampered along to school. “I never have had a real good look at him, but I’ve had glimpses of him lots of times and always supposed him a little Mouse with a short tail. It is hard to believe that he isn’t.”
“I hope Old Mother Nature will put him where we can get a good look at him,” replied Peter. “Perhaps when you really see him he won’t look so much like a Mouse.”
When all had arrived Old Mother Nature began the morning lesson at once. “You have learned about all the families in the order of Rodents,” said she, “so now we will take up another and much smaller order called Insectivora. I wonder if any of you can guess what that means.” “It sounds,” said Peter Rabbit, “as if it must have something to do with insects.”
“That is a very good guess, Peter,” replied Old Mother Nature, smiling at him. “It does have to do with insects. The members of this order live very largely on insects and worms, and the name Insectivora means insect-eating. There are two families in this order, the Shrew family and the Mole family.”
“Then Teeny Weeny and Miner the Mole must be related,” spoke Peter quickly.
“Right again, Peter,” was the prompt reply. “The Shrews and the Moles are related in the same way that you and Happy Jack Squirrel are related.”
“And isn’t Teeny Weeny the Shrew related to the Mice at all?” asked Happy Jack.
“Not at all,” said Old Mother Nature. “Many people think he is and often he is called Shrew Mouse. But this is a great mistake. It is the result of ignorance. It seems strange to me that people so often know so little about their near neighbors.” She looked at Happy Jack Squirrel as she said this, and Happy Jack looked sheepish. He felt just as he looked. All this time the eyes of every one had been searching this way, that way, every way, for Teeny Weeny, for Old Mother Nature had promised to try to have him there that morning. But Teeny Weeny was not to be seen. Now and then a leaf on the ground close by Old Mother Nature’s feet moved, but the Merry Little Breezes were always stirring up fallen leaves, and no one paid any attention to these.
Old Mother Nature understood the disappointment in the faces before her and her eyes began to twinkle. “Yesterday I told you that I would try to have Teeny Weeny here,” said she. A leaf moved. Stooping quickly she picked it up. “And here he is,” she finished.
Sure enough where a second before the dead brown leaf had been was a tiny little fellow, so tiny that that leaf had covered him completely, and it wasn’t a very big leaf. It was Teeny Weeny the Shrew, also called the Common Shrew, the Long-tailed Shrew and the Shrew Mouse, one of the smallest animals in all the Great World. He started to dart under another leaf, but Old Mother Nature stopped him. “Sit still,” she commanded sharply. “You have nothing to fear. I want everybody to have a good look at you, for it is high time these neighbors of yours should know you. I know just how nervous and uncomfortable you are and I’ll keep you only a few minutes. Now everybody take a good look at Teeny Weeny.”
This command was quite needless, for all were staring with all their might. What they saw was a mite of a fellow less than four inches long from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail, and of this total length the tail was almost half. He was slender, had short legs and mouselike feet. His coat was brownish above and grayish beneath, and the fur was very fine and soft.
But the oddest thing about Teeny Weeny was his long, pointed head ending in a long nose. No Mouse has a head like it. The edges of the ears could be seen above the fur, but the eyes were so tiny that Peter Rabbit thought he hadn’t any and said so.
Old Mother Nature laughed. “Yes, he has eyes, Peter,” said she. “Look closely and you will see them. But they don’t amount to much—little more than to tell daylight from darkness. Teeny Weeny depends on his nose chiefly. He has a very wonderful little nose, flexible and very sensitive. Of course, with such poor eyes he prefers the dark when there are fewer enemies abroad.”
All this time Teeny Weeny had been growing more and more uneasy. Old Mother Nature saw and understood. Now she told him that he might go. Hardly were the words out of her mouth when he vanished, darting under some dead leaves. Hidden by them he made his way to an old log and was seen no more.
“Doesn’t he eat anything but insects and worms?” asked Striped Chipmunk.
“Yes,” replied Old Mother Nature. “He is very fond of flesh, and if he finds the body of a bird or animal that has been killed he will tear it to pieces. He is very hot-tempered, as are all his family, and will not hesitate to attack a Mouse much bigger than himself. He is so little and so active that he has to have a great deal of food and probably eats his own weight in food every day. Of course, that means he must do a great deal of hunting, and he does.
“He makes tiny little paths under the fallen leaves and in swampy places—little tunnels through the moss. He is especially fond of old rotted stumps and logs and brush piles, for in such places he can find grubs and insects. At the same time he is well hidden. He is active by day and night, but in the daytime takes pains to keep out of the light. He prefers damp to dry places. In winter he tunnels about under the snow. In summer he uses the tunnels and runways of Meadow Mice and others when he can. He eats seeds and other vegetable food when he cannot find insects or flesh”
“How about his enemies?” asked Chatterer the Red Squirrel.
“He has plenty,” replied Old Mother Nature, “but is not so much hunted as the members of the Mouse family. This is because he has a strong, unpleasant scent which makes him a poor meal for those at all particular about their food. Some of the Hawks and Owls appear not to mind this, and these are his worst enemies.”
“Has he any near relatives?” asked Jumper the Hare.
“Several,” was the prompt response. “Blarina the Short-tailed Shrew, also called Mole Shrew, is the best known. He is found everywhere, in forests, old pastures and along grassy banks, but seldom far from water. He prefers moist ground. He is much larger and thicker than Teeny Weeny and has a shorter tail. People often mistake him for Miner the Mole, because of the thick, fine fur which is much like Miner’s and his habit of tunneling about just beneath the surface, but if they would look at his fore feet they would never make that mistake. They are small and like the feet of the Mouse family, not at all like Miner’s big shovels. Moreover, he is smaller than Miner, and his tunnels are seldom in the earth but just under the leaves and grass.
“His food is much the same as that of Teeny Weeny—worms, insects, flesh when he can get it, and seeds. He is fond of beechnuts. He is quite equal to killing a Mouse of his own size or bigger and does not hesitate to do so when he gets the chance. He makes a soft, comfortable nest under a log or in a stump or in the ground and has from four to six babies at a time. Teeny Weeny sometimes has as many as ten. The senses of smell and hearing are very keen and make up for the lack of sight. His eyes, like those of other Shrews, are probably of use only in distinguishing light from darkness. His coat is dark brownish-gray.
“Another of the Shrew family is the Marsh Shrew, also called Water Shrew and Black-and white Shrew. He is longer than either of the others and, as you have guessed, is a lover of water. He is a good swimmer and gets much of his food in the water—water Beetles and grubs and perhaps Tadpoles and Minnows. Now who among you knows Miner the Mole?”
“I do. That is, I have seen him,” replied Peter Rabbit.
“Very well, Peter, tomorrow morning we will see how much you know about Miner,” replied Old Mother Nature.
Scampering along on his way to school and thinking of nothing so uninteresting as watching his steps, Peter Rabbit stubbed his toes. Yes, sir, Peter stubbed his toes. With a little exclamation of impatience he turned to see what he had stumbled over. It was a little ridge where the surface of the ground had been raised a trifle since Peter had passed that way the day before.
Peter chuckled. “Now isn’t that funny?” he demanded of no one at all, for he was quite alone. Then he answered himself. “It certainly is,” said he. “Here I am on my way to learn something about Miner the Mole, and I trip over one of the queer little ridges he is forever making. It wasn’t here yesterday, so that means that he is at work right around here now. Hello, I thought so!”
Peter had been looking along that little ridge and had discovered that it ended only a short distance from him. Now as he looked at it again, he saw the flat surface of the ground at the end of the ridge rise as if being pushed up from beneath, and that little ridge became just so much longer. Peter understood
Comments (0)