Green Forest Stories by Thornton W. Burgess (best e ink reader for manga txt) ๐
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 Burgessโs stories about the โlittle peopleโ of the Massachusetts forest. Burgessโs earliest ventures into animal fantasy are roughly contemporary with Rudyard Kiplingโs Just So Stories and Beatrix Potterโs tales of various animals, and represent the most lasting American entry into this genre.
Animal fantasy is a sub-genre of childrenโs 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 Aesopโs Fables; animal characters feature in teaching stories for children (and adults) in cultures around the world. Burgessโs stories are intended for children in the early elementary grades. The challenges and triumphs of the โlittle peopleโ 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 Burgessโs storytelling is undeniably old-fashioned but still deserves consideration. Although the writing is often simple and plain, there are rhetorical flourishes that reveal the authorโs attention to craft. In particular, Burgessโs use of formulaic expressions such as โjolly, round, bright Mr. Sunโ and โthe Merry Little Breezesโ links these tales to an orality that stretches back to at least The Iliad and The Odyssey of Homer (think of phrases such as โthe wine-dark sea,โ โrosy-fingered Dawn,โ and โbright-eyed Athenaโ). Through his broader use of repetition and through onomatopoeia, Burgess underscores characteristics of his charactersโ real-life forest counterpartsโthe 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 Burgessโs 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 shortโa comfortable size to read as a bedtime story, and just long enough to hold a new readerโs attention without demanding too much of that readerโs 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 storytellerโs 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.
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- Author: Thornton W. Burgess
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Chatterer grinned. โI believe,โ said he to himself, โthat that silly little Bear has run away and is lost. If he isnโt lost, he ought to be, and Iโll see to it that he is. Yes, sir, Iโll see to it that he is properly lost. This is my chance to get even for the fright he and his sister gave me when they chased me up a tree.โ
Chatterer once more looked everywhere to make sure no one else was about. Then he lightly jumped over into the tree under which Boxer was sitting. He took care to make no sound. He crept out on a limb directly over Boxer and then he dropped a pine cone.
The pine cone hit Boxer right on the end of his nose, and because his nose is rather tender, it hurt. It made the tears come. Then, too, it was so unexpected it startled Boxer. โOuch!โ he cried, as he sprang to one side and looked up to see where that cone had come from.
When he saw Chatterer grinning down at him, Boxer grew very angry. That was the same fellow he once had so nearly caught in a tree top. This time he would catch him. Down came another cone on Boxerโs head.
โCanโt catch me! Canโt catch me!โ taunted Chatterer, in the most provoking way.
Boxer growled and started up that tree. โCanโt catch a flea! Canโt catch me!โ cried Chatterer gleefully, as he looked down at Boxer and made faces at him.
He waited until Boxer was halfway up that tree then lightly ran out to the end of a branch and leaped across to a branch of the next tree. From there he called Boxer all sorts of names and made fun of him until the little Bear was so angry he hardly knew what he was doing. Of course he couldnโt jump across as Chatterer had. He was too big to run out on a branch that way, even had he dared try it. So there was nothing to do but to scramble down that tree and climb the next one.
Boxer started down. When he reached the ground, he found Chatterer also on the ground. โCanโt catch a flea! Canโt catch me!โ shouted Chatterer more provokingly than ever.
โI can catch any Red Squirrel that lives,โ growled Boxer and jumped at Chatterer. Chatterer dodged and ran, Boxer after him. Around trees and stumps, this way, that way and the other way, over logs, behind piles of brush Chatterer led Boxer, until the latter was so out of breath he had to stop.
Chatterer chuckled. โI guess that now he is quite properly lost,โ said he to himself, as he ran up a tree and dropped another cone on Boxer. โI guess Iโve turned him around so many times he hasnโt any idea where home is or anything else, for that matter. I havenโt had so much fun for a long time.โ
He dropped another cone on Boxer and then started off through the tree tops, leaving Boxer all alone.
XXVI Alone and Lost in the Great WorldHe truly brave is who can be
No whit less brave with none to see.
Somehow it is easier to be brave when there are others about to see how brave you are. It is a great deal easier. To be brave when you are all alone is quite another matter. That is real bravery. And to be alone and lost and brave is the greatest bravery.
When Chatterer the Red Squirrel raced away through the tree tops, leaving Boxer alone to recover his breath and rest his weary little legs, he left a little Bear as completely lost as ever a little Bear had been since the beginning of the Great World. Boxer didnโt know it then. He was too busy getting his breath and thinking how good it was to rest to think of anything else.
But after awhile Boxer felt quite himself again, and once more his anger at Chatterer the Red Squirrel began to rise. Boxer looked all about for Chatterer. There was no sign of him. Boxer swelled up with a feeling of importance.
โThat fellow must be hiding. I guess Iโve given him a scare he wonโt forget in a hurry,โ boasted Boxer. How that would have tickled Chatterer had he heard it.
Now that Chatterer had disappeared, Boxer began to wonder what he should do next. It suddenly came to him that he was in a strange place. None of the trees or stumps about there was familiar. There wasnโt a single familiar thing to be seen anywhere. A queer feeling of uneasiness crept over Boxer. He couldnโt sit still. No, sir, he couldnโt sit still. He didnโt know why, but he couldnโt. So Boxer started on aimlessly. He had nothing in particular to do and nowhere in particular to go.
Presently he noticed the first of the Black Shadows creeping through the Green Forest. Somehow those Black Shadows made him think of home. Probably Mother Bear and Woof-Woof were back there by this time. He wondered if they had missed him and would start looking for him. If he didnโt see them, how would he ever know whether or not they looked for him? How would he ever know if he really did get even with them by making them anxious? Why not go back near the great windfall and watch?
โOf course I wonโt go home,โ muttered Boxer to himself, as he shuffled along. โIโve left home for good. Iโll just go back and hide near there where I can watch and see all that happens. It will be great fun to watch Mother Bear and Woof-Woof hunt for me. I guess Iโll hurry a little,โ he added, as he noticed how the creeping Black Shadows
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