Mr. Rabbit at Home by Joel Chandler Harris (feel good books to read .txt) 📕
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- Author: Joel Chandler Harris
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“As for the merchants, they were in a pickle. Neither party wanted to go away and leave the other at the tavern; so they waited and waited,—the black sheep party waiting for the white goat party to go, and the white goat party waiting for the black sheep party to go.
“‘When do you leave?’ says one.
“‘As soon as we find our sheep. When do you leave?’ says the other.
“‘Quite as soon.’
“There was not much satisfaction in this for either side. Finally, one of the merchants called the tavern-keeper aside, and asked him where he had put the black sheep.
“‘In my stable, your honor,’ replied the man.
“Then another merchant called the tavern-keeper aside, and asked him where he had put the white goat.
“‘In my stable, your honor,’ he replied.
“Now as each of these merchants went out to see that his precious animal was safe, it was perfectly natural that they should see each other slipping about in the yard, and that they should meet face to face in the stable. Both made the excuse that they thought they might find their lost animals at that point, and both were terribly worked up when they saw that the stable was empty. Each went back and told his companions, and pretty soon there was the biggest uproar in that house that the tavern-keeper had ever heard.
“Both parties went running to the stable, falling over each other on the way; but the black sheep and the white goat were gone. Then the merchants went running back into the tavern, and all began yelling at the tavern-keeper. Instead of making any answer, that cunning chap put his fingers in his ears, and politely asked the merchants if they wanted to jar the roof off of the house. They danced around him, yelling and shaking their fists at him, but he kept his fingers in his ears.
“Finally, they caught hold of the man, and began to pull and haul him around at a great rate. In this way they compelled him to take his fingers out of his ears; but he could hear little better, for the whole crowd was dancing around and squalling like a lot of crazy people at a picnic. All the tavern-keeper could hear was:—
“‘Where’s our’—‘You’ve got our’—‘Sheep!’ ‘Goat!’
“There was more noise than sense to this rippit. There was so much noise that it roused the whole neighborhood, and the people of the village came running in to see what the trouble was. Among them was the mayor; and he succeeded in quieting the rumpus, not because he was mayor, but because he had a louder voice than any of them.
“When everything was quiet, the mayor asked the merchants why they were acting like crazy people.
“‘Because this man has robbed us,’ they cried, pointing to the tavern-keeper.
“‘Of what has he robbed you?’ asked the mayor.
“‘Of a black sheep and a white goat,’ they replied.
“‘Your honor,’ said the tavern-keeper, when the mayor had turned to him, ‘you have known me all my life, and have never heard that I was a thief. I want to ask these men a few questions.’ By this time the two parties of merchants had ranged themselves on different sides of the room. The tavern-keeper turned to the black sheep party. ‘Didn’t the men over there come into this house and tell you that they had lost their white goat?’
“‘They certainly did,’ was the reply.
“Then he turned to the white goat party. ‘Didn’t the men over there tell you that they had lost their black sheep and had come back to hunt it?’
“‘They certainly did,’ came the answer.
“Both parties tried to explain that they had placed their animals in charge of the tavern-keeper, but while they were hemming and hawing a queer thing happened. The boy had come up with his butting cow; and seeing the merchants still in the tavern, he led her to the door, and told her to do her whole duty, and nothing but her duty.
“While the merchants were trying to explain, the cow rushed into the room with a bellow, her tail curled over her back, and went at the men with head down and horn points up. Tables and chairs were nothing to the butting cow. She ran over them and through them; and in a little while the room was cleared of the merchants, and some of them were hurt so badly that they could scarcely crawl away.
“The mayor had jumped through a window, and the village people had scattered in all directions. By this time the tavern-keeper, who had remained unhurt, was laughing to himself at the fix the merchants found themselves in, for the butting cow was still pursuing them. But he laughed too soon. The little girl came to the door with her hitting stick.
“HIT STICK! STICK HIT!” SHE CRIED
“‘Hit, stick! Stick, hit!’ she cried; and in an instant the stick was mauling the tavern-keeper over the head and shoulders and all about the body.
“‘Help! help!’ shouted the tavern-keeper. ‘Somebody run here! Help! I’ll tell you where they are! I’ll show you where they are!’
“‘Stop, stick!’ said the girl. ‘Now show me where my snow-white goat is.’
“‘Yes!’ exclaimed the boy. ‘Show me where my coal-black sheep is!’
“‘Come,’ said the tavern-keeper; and he went as fast as he could to the outhouse where he had hid the animals. They were in there, safe and sound, and the children made haste to carry them home.
“So the farmer was once more rich and prosperous. He shunned the tavern and kept at work, and in this way prosperity brought happiness and content to all the family. And by giving freely to the poor they made others happy too.”
THE FATE OF THE DIDDYPAWN.
“It has always been mighty curious to me,” said Mr. Rabbit, “why everything and everybody is not contented with what they’ve got. There’d be lots less trouble in the country next door if everybody was satisfied.”
“Well,” remarked Mr. Thimblefinger, “some people have nothing at all. I hope you don’t want a man who has nothing to be satisfied. An empty pocket makes an empty stomach, and an empty stomach has a way of talking so it can be heard.”
“That is true,” replied Mr. Rabbit; “but there is a living in the world for every creature, if he will only get out of bed and walk about and look for it. But a good many folks and a heap of the animals think that if there is a living in the world for everybody, it ought to be handed round in a silver dish. Then there are some folks and a great many creatures that are not satisfied with what they are, but want to be somebody or something else. That sort of talk puts me in mind of the Diddypawn.”
“What is the Diddypawn?” asked Buster John.
“Well, it would be hard to tell you at this time of day,” replied Mr. Rabbit, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There are no Diddypawns now, and I don’t know that I ever saw but one. He is the chap I’m going to tell you about. He was a great big strong creature, with a long head and short ears, and eyes that could see in the dark. He had legs that could carry him many a mile in a day, and teeth strong enough to crunch an elephant’s hind leg. The Diddypawn would have weeded a wide row if he had been a mind to; but, instead of doing that, he just lay in the mud on the river bank, and let the sun shine and the rain fall. He had but to reach down in the water to pick up a fish, or up in the bushes to catch a bird.
“But all this didn’t make his mind easy. He wasn’t contented. The thought came to him that a fine large creature such as he was ought to be able to swim as fast as a fish, and fly as high as a bird. So he worried and worried and worried about it, until there was no peace in that neighborhood. All the creatures that crawled, or walked, or swam, or flew, heard of the Diddypawn’s troubles. At first they paid no attention to him, but he groaned so long and he groaned so loud that they couldn’t help but pay attention. They couldn’t sleep at night, and they couldn’t have any peace in the daytime.
“For I don’t know how long the Diddypawn rolled and tumbled in the mud, and moaned and groaned because he didn’t have as many fins as the fishes and as many feathers as the birds. He moaned and mumbled in the daytime, and groaned and grumbled at night. The other creatures paid no attention to him at first; but matters went from bad to worse, and they soon found that they had to do something or leave the country.
“So, after awhile the fishes held a convention, and the porpoise and the catfish made speeches, saying that the Diddypawn was in a peck of trouble, and asking what could be done for him. Finally, after a good deal of talk about one thing and another, the convention of fishes concluded to call on the Diddypawn in a body, and ask him what in the name of goodness he wanted.
“This they did; and the reply that the Diddypawn made was that he wanted to know how to swim as well as any fish. There wasn’t anything unreasonable in this; and so the convention, after a good deal more talk, said that the best way to do would be for every fish to lend the Diddypawn a fin.
“The convention told the Diddypawn about this, and it made him grin from one ear to the other to think that he would be able to swim as fast as the fishes. He rolled from the bank into the shallow water, and the fishes, as good as their word, loaned him each a fin. With these the Diddypawn found he was able to get about in the water right nimbly. He swam around and around, far and near, and finally reached an island where there were some trees.
“‘Don’t go too near the land,’ says the catfish. ‘Don’t go too near the land,’ says the perch.
“‘Don’t bother about me,’ says the Diddypawn. “I can walk on the land as well as I can swim in the water.’
“‘But our fins!’ says the catfish and the perch. ‘If you go on land and let them dry in the sun, they’ll be no good to either us or you.’
“‘No matter,’ says the Diddypawn, ‘on the land I’ll go, and I’ll be bound the fins will be just as limber after they get dry as they were when they were wet.’
“But the fishes set up such a cry and made such a fuss that the Diddypawn concluded to give them back their fins, while he went on dry land and rested himself. He went on the island, and stretched himself out in
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