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  1. Dedication
  2. Lightfoot the Deer
    1. I
    2. II
    3. III
    4. IV The Spirit of Fear When the days grow cold and the nights are clear, There stalks abroad the spirit of fear. Lightfoot the Deer
    5. V
    6. VI
    7. VII
    8. VIII
    9. IX
    10. X
    11. XI
    12. XII
    13. XIII
    14. XIV
    15. XV
    16. XVI
    17. XVII
    18. XVIII
    19. XIX
    20. XX
    21. XXI
    22. XXII
    23. XXIII
    24. XXIV
    25. XXV
    26. XXVI
    27. XXVII
    28. XXVIII
    29. XXIX
    30. XXX
    31. XXXI
    32. XXXII
    33. XXXIII
    34. XXXIV
    35. XXXV
    36. XXXVI
    37. XXXVII
    38. XXXVIII
    39. XXXIX
    40. XL
  3. Blacky the Crow
    1. I
    2. II Blacky Makes Sure As true as ever I’ve cawed a caw That was a new-laid egg I saw.
    3. III
    4. IV
    5. V Blacky Calls His Friends When Blacky cries “Caw, caw, caw, caw!” As if he’d dislocate his jaw, His relatives all hasten where He waits them with a crafty air.
    6. VI Hooty the Owl Doesn’t Stay Still Now what’s the good of being smart When others do not do their part?
    7. VII Blacky Tries Another Plan When one plan fails, just try another; Declare you’ll win some way or other.
    8. VIII
    9. IX
    10. X
    11. XI Farmer Brown’s Boy Is Tempted When you’re tempted to do wrong Is the time to prove you’re strong. Shut your eyes and clench each fist; It will help you to resist.
    12. XII A Treetop Battle As black is black and white is white, So wrong is wrong and right is right.
    13. XIII
    14. XIV Blacky Makes a Call Judge no one by his style of dress; Your ignorance you thus confess. Blacky the Crow
    15. XV Blacky Does a Little Looking About Do not take the word of others That things are or are not so When there is a chance that you may Find out for yourself and know. Blacky the Crow
    16. XVI Blacky Finds Other Signs A single fact may fail to prove you either right or wrong; Confirm it with another and your proof will then be strong. Blacky the Crow
    17. XVII Blacky Watches a Queer Performance This much to me is very clear: A thing not understood is queer. Blacky the Crow
    18. XVIII Blacky Becomes Very Suspicious Of things you do not understand, Beware! They may be wholly harmless but — Beware! You’ll find the older that you grow That only things and folks you know Are fully to be trusted, so Beware! Blacky the Crow
    19. XIX Blacky Makes More Discoveries Little things you fail to see May important prove to be. Blacky the Crow
    20. XX Blacky Drops a Hint When you see another’s danger Warn him though he be a stranger. Blacky the Crow
    21. XXI At Last Blacky Is Sure Who for another conquers fear Is truly brave, it is most clear. Blacky the Crow
    22. XXII Blacky Goes Home Happy No greater happiness is won Than through a deed for others done. Blacky the Crow
    23. XXIII
    24. XXIV
    25. XXV Blacky Gets a Dreadful Shock When friends prove false, whom may we trust? The springs of faith are turned to dust. Blacky the Crow
    26. XXVI
    27. XXVII
    28. XXVIII Blacky Has a Talk with Dusky the Black Duck Doubt not a friend, but to the last Grip hard on faith and hold it fast. Blacky the Crow
    29. XXIX
    30. XXX
    31. XXXI An Egg That Wouldn’t Behave If you had an egg and it wouldn’t behave Just what would you do with that egg, may I ask? To make an egg do what it don’t want to do Strikes me like a difficult sort of a task.
    32. XXXII
  4. Whitefoot the Wood Mouse
    1. I
    2. II
    3. III
    4. IV Whitefoot Grows Anxious ’Tis sad indeed to trust a friend Then have that trust abruptly end. Whitefoot
    5. V The End of Whitefoot’s Worries You never can tell! You never can tell! Things going wrong will often end well. Whitefoot
    6. VI
    7. VII
    8. VIII
    9. IX Two Timid Persons Meet Thus always you will meet life’s test — To do the thing you can do best. Whitefoot
    10. X The White Watchers Much may be gained by sitting still If you but have the strength of will. Whitefoot
    11. XI Jumper Is in Doubt When doubtful what course to pursue ’Tis sometimes best to nothing do. Whitefoot
    12. XII Whitey the Owl Saves Jumper It often happens in the end An enemy may prove a friend. Whitefoot
    13. XIII Whitefoot Decides Quickly Your mind made up a certain way Be swift to act; do not delay. Whitefoot
    14. XIV Shadow’s Return He little gains and has no pride Who from his purpose turns aside. Whitefoot
    15. XV Whitefoot’s Dreadful Journey Danger may be anywhere, So I expect it everywhere. Whitefoot
    16. XVI Whitefoot Climbs a Tree I’d rather be frightened With no cause for fear Than fearful of nothing When danger is near. Whitefoot
    17. XVII Whitefoot Finds a Hole Just in Time Just in time, not just too late, Will make you master of your fate. Whitefoot
    18. XVIII An Unpleasant Surprise Be careful never to be rude Enough to thoughtlessly intrude. Whitefoot
    19. XIX Whitefoot Finds a Home at Last True independence he has known Whose home has been his very own. Whitefoot
    20. XX Whitefoot Makes Himself at Home Look not too much on that behind Lest to the future you be blind. Whitefoot
    21. XXI Whitefoot Envies Timmy A useless thing is envy; A foolish thing to boot. Why should a Fox who has a bark Want like an Owl to hoot?
    22. XXII Timmy Proves to Be a True Neighbor He proves himself a neighbor true Who seeks a kindly deed to do. Whitefoot
    23. XXIII Whitefoot Spends a Dreadful Night Pity those who suffer fright In the dark and stilly night. Whitefoot
    24. XXIV Whitefoot the Wood Mouse Is Unhappy Unhappiness without a cause you never, never find; It may be in the stomach, or it may be in the mind. Whitefoot
    25. XXV Whitefoot Finds Out What the Matter Was Pity the lonely, for deep in the heart Is an ache that no doctor can heal by his art. Whitefoot
    26. XXVI Love Fills the Heart of Whitefoot Joyous all the winds that blow To the heart with love aglow. Whitefoot
    27. XXVII Mr. and Mrs. Whitefoot When all is said and all is done ’Tis only love of two makes one. Whitefoot
    28. XXVIII Mrs. Whitefoot Decides on a Home When Mrs. Mouse makes up her mind Then Mr. Mouse best get behind. Whitefoot
    29. XXIX Making Over an Old House A home is always what you make it. With love there you will ne’er forsake it. Whitefoot
    30. XXX The Whitefoots Enjoy Their New Home No home is ever mean or poor Where love awaits you at the door. Whitefoot
    31. XXXI Whitefoot Is Hurt The hurts that hardest are to bear Come from those for whom we care. Whitefoot
    32. XXXII The Surprise Surprises sometimes are so great You’re tempted to believe in fate. Whitefoot
  5. Buster Bear’s Twins
    1. I Mother Bear’s Secret The best kept secret soon or lat, sire Will be found out as sure as fate. Mother Bear
    2. II Peter Scares the Twins For timid folk no joy is quite Like giving other folks a fright. Mother Bear
    3. III Peter’s Glee Is Short-Lived You’ll find it very seldom pays To play a joke that works both ways. Mother Bear
    4. IV Boxer and Woof-Woof ’Tis sometimes well, it seems to me, To see, but appear not to see. Mother Bear
    5. V Out in the Great World The Great World calls, and soon or late Must each obey and rule his fate. Mother Bear
    6. VI The Twins Climb a Tree Those climb the highest who have dared To keep on climbing when most scared. Mother Bear
    7. VII A Scare That Didn’t Work Take my advice and pray beware Of how you try to scare a Bear. Mother Bear
    8. VIII Too Late Chatterer Is Sorry Of yourself to hold command Keep your temper well in hand. Mother Bear
    9. IX The Twins Have to Go Home Obedience is good to see, Especially when up a tree. Mother Bear
    10. X The Twins Get Even with Peter Rabbit It isn’t nice; it isn’t kind; ’Tis not at all the thing to do; But those who do not take a chance Of getting even are but few. Mother Bear
    11. XI Peter Is in a Tight Place When you are in a place that’s tight It is no time to think of fright. Mother Bear
    12. XII Peter Takes a Chance Who never takes a chance confesses That he a coward’s heart possesses. Mother Bear
    13. XIII A Great Mix-Up of Little Bears If I blame you and you blame me ’Tis clear we’re bound to disagree. Mother Bear
    14. XIV Two Foolish-Feeling Little Bears Who lets his temper get away Is bound to find it doesn’t pay. Mother Bear
    15. XV The Twins Meet Their Father Beware the stranger with a smile Lest it but hide a trickster’s guile. Mother Bear
    16. XVI The Twins Take to a Tree Run while you may, nor hesitate Lest you should prove to be too late. Mother Bear
    17. XVII Mother Comes to the Rescue In all the world, below, above, The greatest thing is mother love. Mother Bear
    18. XVIII The Twins Are Comforted There is no comfort quite like that Contained in mother’s loving pat. Mother Bear
    19. XIX The Cubs Talk It Over Things seem good or things seem bad According to the view you’ve had. Mother Bear
    20. XX The Twins Get Their First Bath You cannot learn to swim on land, So waste no time in trying. And if you keep from getting wet You’ll never need a drying. Mother Bear
    21. XXI The Twins Are Still Puzzled To have true faith is to believe E’en when appearances deceive. Mother Bear
    22. XXII Boxer Gets a Spanking Who fails to spank should have a care; The well spanked cub, the well trained Bear. Mother Bear
    23. XXIII Boxer Is Sulky The world can do quite well without The sulky folks and those who pout. Mother Bear
    24. XXIV Boxer Starts Out to Get Even Wait a minute; count the cost. Wasted time is time that’s lost. Mother Bear
    25. XXV Chatterer Has Fun with Boxer Who does not fear to take a chance Will make the most of circumstance. Mother Bear
    26. XXVI Alone and Lost in the Great World He truly brave is who can be No whit less brave with none to see. Mother Bear
    27. XXVII A Dreadful Night for a Little Bear A lot of people, great and small, Are like a frightened little Bear — Where danger there is none at all They somehow get a dreadful scare. Mother Bear
    28. XXVIII Boxer Gets His Own Breakfast True independence he has earned Who for himself to do has learned. Mother Bear
    29. XXIX Boxer Has a Painful Lesson Don’t judge a stranger by his looks, Lest they may prove to be deceiving. The stupid-looking may be smart In ways you’ll find beyond believing. Mother Bear
    30. XXX Boxer Is Sadder but Much Wiser Experience is not a preacher, But has no equal as a teacher. Mother Bear
    31. XXXI Boxer Meets a Polite Little Fellow Because another is polite Pray do not think he cannot fight. Mother Bear
    32. XXXII Boxer Wishes He Hadn’t This is, you’ll find, the law of fate: Regrets are always just too late. Mother Bear
    33. XXXIII Woof-Woof Turns Up Her Nose I pray you be not one of those Who boast the scornful turned-up nose. Mother Bear
    34. XXXIV All Is Well at Last If you are taught not to forget Your punishment you’ll ne’er regret. Mother Bear
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Green Forest Stories

Thornton W. Burgess

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(von vorn beginnen)

Dedication

To the most beautiful of our
four-footed friends in the green forest
with the hope that this little volume
may in some degree aid in the
protection of the innocent
and helpless

Lightfoot the Deer

I

Peter Rabbit Meets Lightfoot

Peter Rabbit was on his way back from the pond of Paddy the Beaver deep in the Green Forest. He had just seen Mr. and Mrs. Quack start toward the Big River for a brief visit before leaving on their long, difficult journey to the faraway Southland. Farewells are always rather sad, and this particular farewell had left Peter with a lump in his throat—a queer, choky feeling.

“If I were sure that they would return next spring, it wouldn’t be so bad,” he muttered. “It’s those terrible guns. I know what it is to have to watch out for them. Farmer Brown’s boy used to hunt me with one of them, but he doesn’t any more. But even when he did hunt me it wasn’t anything like what the Ducks have to go through. If I kept my eyes and ears open, I could tell when a hunter was coming and could hide in a hole if I wanted to. I never had to worry about my meals. But with the Ducks it is a thousand times worse. They’ve got to eat while making that long journey, and they can eat only where there is the right kind of food. Hunters with terrible guns know where those places are and hide there until the Ducks come, and the Ducks have no way of knowing whether the hunters are waiting for them or not. That isn’t hunting. It’s—it’s—”

“Well, what is it? What are you talking to yourself about, Peter Rabbit?”

Peter looked up with a start to find the soft, beautiful eyes of Lightfoot the Deer gazing down at him over the top of a little hemlock tree.

“It’s awful,” declared Peter. “It’s worse than unfair. It doesn’t give them any chance at all.”

“I suppose it must be so if you say so,” replied Lightfoot, “but you might tell me what all this awfulness is about.”

Peter grinned. Then he began at the beginning and told Lightfoot all about Mr. and Mrs. Quack and the many dangers they must face on their long journey to the faraway Southland and back again in the spring, all because of the heartless hunters with terrible guns. Lightfoot listened and his great soft eyes were filled with pity for the Quack family.

“I hope they will get through all right,” said he, “and I hope they will get back in the spring. It is bad enough to be hunted by men at one time of the year, as no one knows better than I do, but to be hunted in the spring as well as in the fall is more than twice as bad. Men are strange creatures. I do not understand them at all. None of the people of the Green Forest would think of doing such terrible things. I suppose it is quite right to hunt others in order to get enough to eat, though I am thankful to say that I never have had to do that, but to hunt others just for the fun of hunting is something I cannot understand at all. And yet that is what men seem to do it for. I guess the trouble is they never have been hunted themselves and don’t know how it feels. Sometimes I think I’ll hunt one some day just to teach him a lesson. What are you laughing at, Peter?”

“At the idea of you hunting a man,” replied Peter. “Your heart is all right, Lightfoot, but you are too timid and gentle to frighten anyone. Big as you are I wouldn’t fear you.”

With a single swift bound Lightfoot sprang out in front of Peter. He stamped his sharp hoofs, lowered his handsome head until the sharp points of his antlers, which people call horns, pointed straight at Peter, lifted the hair along the back of his neck, and made a motion as if to plunge at him. His eyes, which Peter had always thought so soft and gentle, seemed to flash fire.

“Oh!” cried Peter in a faint, frightened-sounding voice and leaped to one side before it entered his foolish little head that Lightfoot was just pretending.

Lightfoot chuckled. “Did you say I couldn’t frighten anyone?” he demanded.

“I—I didn’t know you could look so terribly fierce,” stammered Peter. “Those antlers look really dangerous when you point them that way. Why—why—what is that hanging to them? It looks like bits of old fur. Have you been tearing somebody’s coat, Lightfoot?” Peter’s eyes were wide with wonder and suspicion.

II

Lightfoot’s New Antlers

Peter Rabbit was puzzled. He stared at Lightfoot the Deer a wee bit suspiciously. “Have you been tearing somebody’s coat?” he asked again. He didn’t like to think it of Lightfoot, whom he always had believed quite as gentle, harmless, and timid as himself. But what else could he think?

Lightfoot slowly shook his head. “No,” said he, “I haven’t torn anybody’s coat.”

“Then what are those rags hanging on your antlers?” demanded Peter.

Lightfoot chuckled. “They are what is left of the coverings of my new antlers,” he explained.

“What’s that? What do you mean by new antlers?” Peter was sitting up very straight, with his eyes fixed on Lightfoot’s antlers as though he never had seen them before.

“Just what I said,” retorted Lightfoot. “What do you think of them? I think they are the finest antlers I’ve ever had. When I get the rest of those rags off, they will be as handsome a set as ever was grown in the Green Forest.”

Lightfoot rubbed his antlers against the trunk of a tree till some of the rags hanging to them dropped off.

Peter blinked very hard. He was trying to understand and he couldn’t. Finally he said so.

“What kind of a story are you trying to fill me up with?” he demanded indignantly. “Do you mean to tell me that those are not the antlers that you have had as long as I’ve known you? How can anything hard like those antlers grow? And if those are new ones, where are the old ones? Show me the old ones, and perhaps I’ll believe that these are new ones. The idea of trying to make me believe that antlers grow just like plants! I’ve seen Bossy the Cow all summer and I know she has got the same horns she had last summer. New antlers indeed!”

“You are quite right, Peter, quite right about Bossy the Cow. She never has new horns, but that isn’t any reason why I shouldn’t have new antlers, is it?” replied Lightfoot patiently. “Her horns are quite different from my antlers. I have a new pair every year. You haven’t seen me all summer, have you, Peter?”

“No, I don’t remember that I have,” replied Peter, trying very hard to remember when he had last seen Lightfoot.

“I know you haven’t,” retorted Lightfoot. “I know it because I have been hiding in a place you never visit.”

“What have you been hiding for?” demanded Peter.

“For my new antlers to grow,” replied Lightfoot. “When my new antlers are growing, I want to be away by myself. I don’t like to be seen without them or with halfgrown ones. Besides, I am very uncomfortable while the new antlers are growing and I want to be alone.”

Lightfoot spoke as if he really meant every word he said, but still Peter couldn’t, he just couldn’t believe that those wonderful great antlers had grown out of Lightfoot’s head in a single summer. “Where did you leave your old ones and when did they come off?” he asked, and there was doubt in the very tone of his voice.

“They dropped off last spring, but I don’t remember just where,” replied Lightfoot. “I was too glad to be rid of them to notice where they dropped. You see they were loose and uncomfortable, and I hadn’t any more use for them because I knew that my new ones would be bigger and better. I’ve got one more point on each than I had last year.” Lightfoot began once more to rub his antlers against the tree to get off the queer rags hanging to them and to polish the points. Peter watched in silence for a few minutes. Then, all his suspicions returning, he said:

“But you haven’t told me anything about those rags hanging to your antlers.”

“And you haven’t believed what I have already told you,” retorted Lightfoot. “I don’t like telling things to people who won’t believe me.”

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