THE TUFTED CAP

One dark night Master Owl left his hollow tree and went prowling about the world as usual upon his hopeless hunt for the Princess’s betel-nut.  As soon as he was out of hearing a long, lean, hungry Rat crept to the house and stole the dainties which the lonely old bachelor had stored away for the morrow’s dinner.  The thief dragged them away to his own hole and had a splendid feast with his wife and little ones.  But the Owl returned sooner than the Rat had expected, and by the crumbs which he had dropped upon the way tracked him to the hole.

“Come out, thief!” cried the Owl, “or I will surely kill you.  Come out and return to me my morrow’s dinner.”  The Rat trembled with fear at these threatening words.

“Alas!” he squeaked, “I cannot do that, for already the dinner is eaten.  My wife and hungry little ones have eaten it.  Pity us, for we were starving!”

“Bah!” screamed the Owl, “I care little for that.  It is for my dinner alone that I care.  Since you have eaten it you shall certainly die,” and he began to scratch fiercely at the mouth of the hole.  The Rat trembled more than ever.  But suddenly he had an idea which made his whiskers twitch.

“Hold!” he cried.  “Dear, good Master Owl, permit me to live and I will give you something which is worth many dinners, something that men-creatures value very highly, and which with great labor and pain I brought away from one of their dens.”

“Umph!” grumbled the Owl.  “Let us see what it is.”

The Rat crawled timidly out of his hole with the peace-offering; and what do you think it was?  Why, a gimlet!  Just a plain, ordinary, well-sharpened gimlet for boring holes.

“Hoo!” cried the Owl.  “I don’t think much of that.  What is it good for?” Now the Rat had not the faintest idea as to what the gimlet really was, but he had another idea instead.

“That?  Why—­that—­oh, that!  That is a very valuable thing.  It is able to give you the keenest delight.  I will show you how it works.  But you must do just as I say, or it will be of no use.”

“Hoo!” cried the Owl.  “Continue with the directions.”

“Well, first you must stick the thing point upwards in the ground at the foot of this tree.”

“Very good,” said the Owl, doing as was suggested, and waiting expectantly for the next move.

“Now you must mount to the top of the tree and slide down the trunk,” said the Rat solemnly.  Old Master Owl was certainly very far from wise that night, for he obeyed the Rat’s word without a suspicion.  He flew to the top of the tree, and then, sitting back and giving a warning cry of “Hoo-hoo!” coasted down the trunk with the speed of lightning.  But midway down he struck a knot in the tree and rolled heels over head.  And when he reached the ground of course he landed fast upon the sharp point of the gimlet, just as the Rat had planned.