Green Forest Stories by Thornton W. Burgess (best e ink reader for manga txt) đ
Description
American naturalist and conservationist Thornton W. Burgess was the author of more than one hundred books for children; the best-remembered of these is Old Mother West Wind, which was originally written for his young son. Burgess also wrote dozens of books about the creatures of the northern North American forest, four of which are collected here as the Green Forest Stories.
This Green Forest Stories compilation focuses on Lightfoot the Deer, Blacky the Crow, Whitefoot the Wood Mouse, and twin bear cubs Woof-Woof and Boxer. Readers may have encountered these characters in other of Burgessâs stories about the âlittle peopleâ of the Massachusetts forest. Burgessâs earliest ventures into animal fantasy are roughly contemporary with Rudyard Kiplingâs Just So Stories and Beatrix Potterâs tales of various animals, and represent the most lasting American entry into this genre.
Animal fantasy is a sub-genre of childrenâs literature in which animals are anthropomorphized into human-like characters and use language like humans. It is often criticized by those who want readers to experience more realistic representations of animals and the natural world, but animal fantasies engage a millennia-old tradition, in the Western canon reaching back at least as far as Aesopâs Fables; animal characters feature in teaching stories for children (and adults) in cultures around the world. Burgessâs stories are intended for children in the early elementary grades. The challenges and triumphs of the âlittle peopleâ in his stories will feel identifiable to many young readers, and the snippets of moralizing and authorial commentary interleaved with the actions of the plot reflect a teaching device with a long history.
In the late twentieth century, Burgess fell out of favour with teachers and librarians. This shift occurred in part due to changing tastes in literary style and in part due to a changing society. Burgess is entirely a writer of his time. Most of the animals he depicts are male, and many of the female animals who wander into the stories are more passive and more stereotyped than the kinds of representation preferred for girls today. (Such is not the case, however, of Old Granny Fox, who may be the smartest of the little people Burgess represents and certainly does not lack agency or self-determination.)
The style of Burgessâs storytelling is undeniably old-fashioned but still deserves consideration. Although the writing is often simple and plain, there are rhetorical flourishes that reveal the authorâs attention to craft. In particular, Burgessâs use of formulaic expressions such as âjolly, round, bright Mr. Sunâ and âthe Merry Little Breezesâ links these tales to an orality that stretches back to at least The Iliad and The Odyssey of Homer (think of phrases such as âthe wine-dark sea,â ârosy-fingered Dawn,â and âbright-eyed Athenaâ). Through his broader use of repetition and through onomatopoeia, Burgess underscores characteristics of his charactersâ real-life forest counterpartsâthe way a chickadee calls, a squirrel scolds, or a rabbit lopes, for example.
In these stories, as in the Green Meadow Stories collection, we observe features that signal Burgessâs experience as a writer for periodicals and as an early radio broadcaster. Each chapter begins with reminders about the previous chapter, and chapters end with either a strong, propulsive conclusion or a traditional cliff-hanger. The chapters are generally quite shortâa comfortable size to read as a bedtime story, and just long enough to hold a new readerâs attention without demanding too much of that readerâs energy. The strong narrative voice sounds distinctly like oral storytelling. One can almost imagine a small group of young people seated in a circle at the storytellerâs feet.
That image captures the essence of these animal tales. They are light, bright peeks into a complex and beautiful world, a world any girl or boy may want to pursue through study or personal explorations. As humanity faces the daily loss of animal species, stories that delight readers and listeners, that encourage them to learn about and respect the creatures of the non-human world, deserve our renewed attention and respect.
Read free book «Green Forest Stories by Thornton W. Burgess (best e ink reader for manga txt) đ» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Thornton W. Burgess
Read book online «Green Forest Stories by Thornton W. Burgess (best e ink reader for manga txt) đ». Author - Thornton W. Burgess
Whitefoot had been in many tight places. Yes, indeed, Whitefoot had been in many tight places. He had had narrow escapes of all kinds. But never had he felt so utterly hopeless as now. The moment he landed in that sap, Whitefoot began to swim frantically. He isnât a particularly good swimmer, but he could swim well enough to keep afloat for a while. His first thought was to scramble up the side of the tin pail, but when he reached it and tried to fasten his sharp little claws into it in order to climb, he discovered that he couldnât. Sharp as they were, his little claws just slipped, and his struggles to get up only resulted in tiring him out and in plunging him wholly beneath the sap. He came up choking and gasping. Then round and round inside that pail he paddled, stopping every two or three seconds to try to climb up that hateful, smooth, shiny wall.
The more he tried to climb out, the more frightened he became.
He was in a perfect panic of fear. He quite lost his head, did Whitefoot. The harder he struggled, the more tired he became, and the greater was his danger of drowning.
Whitefoot squeaked pitifully. He didnât want to drown. Of course not. He wanted to live. But unless he could get out of that pail very soon, he would drown. He knew it. He knew that he couldnât hold on much longer. He knew that just as soon as he stopped paddling, he would sink. Already he was so tired from his frantic efforts to escape that it seemed to him that he couldnât hold out any longer. But somehow he kept his legs moving, and so kept afloat.
Just why he kept struggling, Whitefoot couldnât have told. It wasnât because he had any hope. He didnât have the least bit of hope. He knew now that he couldnât climb the sides of that pail, and there was no other way of getting out. Still he kept on paddling. It was the only way to keep from drowning, and though he felt sure that he had got to drown at last, he just wouldnât until he actually had to. And all the time Whitefoot squeaked hopelessly, despairingly, pitifully. He did it without knowing that he did it, just as he kept paddling round and round.
VIII The RescueWhen Whitefoot made the heedless jump that landed him in a pail half filled with sap, no one else was in the little sugar-house. Whitefoot was quite alone. You see, Farmer Brown and Farmer Brownâs boy were out collecting sap from the trees, and Bowser the Hound was with them.
Farmer Brownâs boy was the first to return. He came in just after Whitefoot had given up all hope. He went at once to the fire to put more wood on. As he finished this job he heard the faintest of little squeaks. It was a very pitiful little squeak. Farmer Brownâs boy stood perfectly still and listened. He heard it again. He knew right away that it was the voice of Whitefoot.
âHello!â exclaimed Farmer Brownâs boy. âThat sounds as if Whitefoot is in trouble of some kind. I wonder where the little rascal is. I wonder what can have happened to him. I must look into this.â Again Farmer Brownâs boy heard that faint little squeak. It was so faint that he couldnât tell where it came from. Hurriedly and anxiously he looked all over the little sugar-house, stopping every few seconds to listen for that pitiful little squeak. It seemed to come from nowhere in particular. Also it was growing fainter.
At last Farmer Brownâs boy happened to stand still close to that tin pail half filled with sap. He heard the faint little squeak again and with it a little splash. It was the sound of the little splash that led him to look down. In a flash he understood what had happened. He saw poor little Whitefoot struggling feebly, and even as he looked Whitefootâs head went under. He was very nearly drowned.
Stooping quickly, Farmer Brownâs boy grabbed Whitefootâs long tail and pulled him out. Whitefoot was so nearly drowned that he didnât have strength enough to even kick. A great pity filled the eyes of Farmer Brownâs boy as he held Whitefootâs head down and gently shook him. He was trying to shake some of the sap out of Whitefoot. It ran out of Whitefootâs nose and out of his mouth. Whitefoot began to gasp. Then Farmer Brownâs boy spread his coat close by the fire, rolled Whitefoot up in his handkerchief and gently placed him on the coat. For some time Whitefoot lay just gasping. But presently his breath came easier, and after a while he was breathing naturally. But he was too weak and tired to move, so he just lay there while Farmer Brownâs boy gently stroked his head and told him how sorry he was.
Little by little Whitefoot recovered his strength. At last he could sit up, and finally he began to move about a little, although he was still wobbly on his legs. Farmer Brownâs boy put some bits of food where Whitefoot could get them, and as he ate, Whitefootâs beautiful soft eyes were filled with gratitude.
IX Two Timid Persons MeetThus always you will meet lifeâs testâ â
To do the thing you can do best.
Jumper
Comments (0)