LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
“He went right on about his business”
“As they were all very
hungry, they would like to
know when the feast
would be ready”
“You don’t mean to say so, Peter,” Interrupted grandfather Frog
HE WOULD MAKE NO REPLY, SAVE TO RUN OUT HIS TONGUE AT THEM
“Then old king bear wished that he hadn’t A tail”
“It must be fine to fly,” Thought Peter. “I wish I could fly”
“Hi, spotty!” He shouted, “Where do you live?”
THE FIRST THING PETER LOOKED TO SEE WAS WHAT KIND OF A TAIL PADDY HAS
I
WHY STRIPED CHIPMUNK IS PROUD OF HIS STRIPES
The Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind are great friends of Striped Chipmunk. They hurry to call on him the very first thing every morning after Old Mother West Wind has brought them down from the Purple Hills. They always beg him to stop and play with them, but often he refuses. But he does it in such a merry way and with such a twinkle in his eyes that the Merry Little Breezes never get cross because he won’t play. No, Sir, they never get cross. If anything, they think just a little bit more of Striped Chipmunk because he won’t play. You see, they know that the reason he won’t play is because he has work to do, and Striped Chipmunk believes and says:
“When there is work
for me to do
The sooner started,
sooner through.”
So every morning they ask him to play, and every morning they laugh when he says he has too much to do. Then they rumple up his hair and pull his whiskers and give him last tag and race down to the Smiling Pool to see Grandfather Frog and beg him for a story. Now Grandfather Frog is very old and very wise, and he knows all about the days when the world was young. When he is feeling just right, he dearly loves to tell about those long-ago days.
One morning the Merry Little Breezes found Grandfather Frog sitting as usual on his big green lily-pad, and they knew by the way he folded his hands across his white and yellow waistcoat that it was full of foolish green flies.
“Oh, Grandfather Frog, please do tell us why it is that Striped Chipmunk has such beautiful stripes on his coat,” begged one of the Merry Little Breezes.
“Chug-a-rum! They are stripes of honor,” replied Grandfather Frog, in his deep, gruff voice.