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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Now always before Mother Bear had furnished Boxer with his breakfast and with all his other meals. But there was no Mother Bear to do it this morning, and his stomach was very empty. If anything were to be put in it, he was the one who would have to put it there.
Just thinking of breakfast made Boxer hungrier than ever. He couldnโt lie still. He must have something to eat, and he must have it soon. He crawled out from under the pile of brush, shook himself, and tried to decide where to go in search of a breakfast. But being lost, of course he had no idea which way to turn.
โI guess it doesnโt make much difference,โ grumbled Boxer. โWhichever way I go, I guess Iโll find something to eat if I keep going long enough.โ
So Boxer started out. And because he had something on his mind, something to do, he forgot that he was lonesome, and he forgot to be afraid. He just couldnโt think of anything but breakfast. Now while he never had had to get food for himself before, Boxer had watched Mother Bear getting food and felt that he knew just how to go about it.
He found a thoroughly rotted old stump and pulled it apart. It happened that he found nothing there to eat. But a few minutes later he forgot all about this disappointment as he pulled over a small log and saw ants scurrying in every direction. He promptly swept them into his mouth with his tongue and smacked his lips at the taste of them. He didnโt leave that place until not another ant was to be seen.
By and by he dug out certain tender little roots and ate them. How he knew where to dig for them, he couldnโt have told himself. He just knew, that was all. Something inside him prompted him to stop and dig, and he did so.
Once he chased a Wood Mouse into a hole and wasted a lot of time trying to dig him out. But it was exciting and a lot of fun, so he didnโt mind much, even when he had to give up. He caught three or four beetles and near the Laughing Brook surprised a young frog. Altogether he made a very good breakfast. And because he got it all himself, with no help from anyone, he enjoyed it more than any breakfast he could remember. And suddenly he felt quite a person of the Great World and quite equal to taking care of himself. He forgot that he had cried for his mother only the night before. The Great World wasnโt such a bad place after all.
XXIX Boxer Has a Painful LessonDonโt judge a stranger by his looks,
Lest they may prove to be deceiving.
The stupid-looking may be smart
In ways youโll find beyond believing.
Having succeeded in getting his own breakfast, and a very good one at that, Boxer felt quite set up, as the saying is. He felt chesty. That is to say, he felt big, self-important, independent. For a little cub who had cried most of the night from loneliness and fear, Boxer showed a surprising change. The light of day, a full stomach, and the feeling that he was able to take care of himself had made a new Bear of that little cub. Anyway he felt so and thought so.
โIโm not afraid of anybody or anything,โ boasted the foolish little Bear to himself, as he wandered along through the Green Forest. โIโm glad I left home. Iโm glad I am out in the Great World. I guess I know about all there is to know. Anyway, I guess I know all there is any need of knowing.โ
As he said this, Boxer stood up and swelled himself out and looked so funny that Prickly Porky the Porcupine, who happened along just then, just had to chuckle down inside, and this is something that Prickly Porky seldom does.
โThat little rascal must have run away from his mother, and he thinks he is smart and knows all there is to know. I donโt believe that even Mother Bear could tell him anything just now. She would be wasting her breath. He needs a lesson or two in practical experience. I believe Iโll give him one just for his own good,โ thought Prickly Porky.
There was something almost like a twinkle in Prickly Porkyโs usually dull eyes as he slowly waddled straight toward Boxer. Boxer heard the rustle of Prickly Porkyโs tail dragging through the leaves and turned to see who was coming. What he saw was, of course, the stupidest-looking fellow in all the Green Forest.
It was the first time Boxer had seen Prickly Porky, and he had no idea who he was. Boxer stood up and stared in the rudest and most impolite manner. He wasnโt afraid. This fellow was no bigger than he, and he was too stupid-looking and too slow to be dangerous.
Boxer was standing in a narrow little path, and Prickly Porky was coming up this little path straight toward him. One of them would have to step aside for the other. It didnโt enter Boxerโs head that he should be that one. As Prickly Porky drew near, Boxer growled a warning. It was the best imitation of Mother Bearโs deep, grumbly-rumbly growl that Boxer could manage. It was hard work for Prickly Porky to keep from laughing right out when he heard it.
But he acted just as if he didnโt hear it. He kept right on. Then he pretended to see Boxer for the first time. โStep aside, little cub, step aside and let me pass,โ said he.
To be called โlittle cubโ just when he was feeling so important and grown-up was more than Boxer could stand. His little eyes grew red with anger.
โStep aside yourself,โ he growled. โStep aside
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