"It doesn't seem to last very well."

And Mr. 'Possum said, "Mr. Crow, you have a new complexion every day."

For the whitewash had come off of Mr. Crow in patches, until he looked like a black-and-white crazy quilt. And just then it began to rain again, and they all hurried to carry in their things; and when they got them all in the tree again Mr. 'c.o.o.n and Mr. 'Possum began to straighten them, but Mr. Crow said he thought he would go outside a little and enjoy the shower. Then pretty soon it poured pitchforks, but still Mr.

Crow didn't come in, and when Mr. 'c.o.o.n and Mr. 'Possum looked out of the upper window they saw him hopping about in it, and waving, and sometimes rolling in the leaves, and mopping his face as if he liked it better than anything; and by and by, when the rain was over and he came in, there was no more whitewash, and he was the blackest, shiniest Old Black Crow that ever was.

Then Mr. 'c.o.o.n said that, after all, there was nothing like a natural complexion.

And Mr. Crow said: "The trouble about whitewash is that it's too hard to keep it on."

Mr. 'Possum, who was resting in a big chair, after his hard morning's work, opened his eyes just long enough to say, "It's too hard to live up to"; and went sound asleep.

MR. 'c.o.o.n'S STAR STORY

MR. 'c.o.o.n EXPLAINS THE STARS AND HOW THEY ARE MADE

One very pleasant June night the Hollow Tree people and Jack Rabbit walked over to the edge of the world and sat down to talk and smoke and look at the stars.

Mr. 'Possum said he always liked to look at the stars when he had anything on his mind, because they seemed so far away from all his troubles, and if he looked at them long enough his troubles seemed to get far away, too. He said he supposed the stars were fully two miles away, some of them, though the little ones would have to be closer or one would not be able to see them. Very likely the moon, being so big, might be farther away than any, and if it was really another world, as Mr. Rabbit had once explained to them,[6] it must be still a good deal bigger than it looks, and very far away, indeed, probably as much as seven miles, though no one would think so to see it coming up full on a clear night behind the Blackberry-patch. Mr. 'Possum said that once, when he was quite young, he had tried to get over there to catch it, but had not been able to arrive in time.

Then all the Hollow Tree people and Jack Rabbit looked up at the sky--at the different kinds of stars, and the patterns they made, such as the Big Dipper, and the Seven Sisters, and at the Milky Way, that seemed broader and milkier than usual; and n.o.body said anything, until Mr.

'c.o.o.n happened to remark:

"I saw Mr. Man _making_ the stars, once. It was very interesting, though dangerous; I nearly got hit by one."

Then Mr. Rabbit and the others were very much interested, and Mr. Rabbit said:

"What a curious idea! How is it you never told us about that before?"

"Well," said Mr. 'c.o.o.n, "it was a good while ago, and the only people I told about it then didn't believe it. I haven't thought of it for a long time, and, besides, I supposed all smart people knew about Mr. Man having that job, and the careless way he works at it."

"I wish you would tell us," said Mr. Rabbit, "if you can remember clearly just what you think happened on the night you speak of."

"I don't think anything about it," said Mr. 'c.o.o.n. "It was a good while ago, but I remember exactly how it was as well as if it were only last week. I'm not likely ever to forget it. It was this way:

[Ill.u.s.tration: I WAS VERY YOUNG]

"We needed a chicken pretty badly in our family, and my big brother, who generally went after them, said it was about time I was learning to do something, and sent me over to Mr. Man's to get it. I was very young, and n.o.body had ever told me the best way to go about borrowing a chicken from Mr. Man. Chickens used to roost in trees near Mr. Man's house, in those days, and I knew my folks generally waited until he had gone to bed, which I supposed was only because they didn't like to disturb him.

It is too bad that grown people do not explain things carefully to young folks--it would save many accidents.

"Well, I liked the idea of being sent for a chicken. It made me feel grown up. I didn't care to be out late, though, so I started quite early--about sunset--and walked along slowly, enjoying the evening, for it was summer-time, early in July--the Fourth--a date I am sure I shall never forget.

"It was a good ways from our place to Mr. Man's house, and it was about eight o'clock when I got there. Mr. Man and his folks had not gone to bed yet, but were out in the yard doing something, or getting ready to do something, and I was very much interested to know what it was. I really forgot all about the chicken I had come for, and went up quite near and sat in some young gooseberry-bushes to watch things.

"Mr. Man and Mrs. Man and their little boy all seemed to be very busy.

They brought some chairs out in the yard, and a table with a pitcher and some gla.s.ses--in case they were thirsty, Mrs. Man said, it being so warm--and then Mr. Man brought out a box of things, and Mrs. Man told him to set it some distance off, to avoid accidents, so he set it just over by the gooseberry-bushes, quite close to me. I didn't know what Mrs. Man meant then by avoiding accidents, but I did later.

"I wanted ever so much to see what was in that box, and decided that presently, when they got interested in something else, I would step out and take a look at it. But they seemed to be interested in the _box_ most of the time, and Mr. Man's little boy kept asking every minute if it wasn't dark enough now, and by and by Mr. Man said he thought it was, and came over to the box and took out something and carried it over where the others were, and seemed to be striking a match, and then, all at once, there was a great swishing sound, and a long tail of fire that went climbing to the sky, and when it got there suddenly seemed to blow up and send out six or seven of the most beautiful stars, while Mr.

Man's little boy jumped about and shouted, 'Hurrah for the Fourth of July!' Being pretty badly scared, I didn't see just what became of those stars, but I suppose some of them are among those we see up there now, though perhaps some of them didn't stick, but turned into falling stars, then, or later on.

"Well, Mr. Man and his little boy kept right at work making the stars, as hard as they could, and I had a very good time, while it lasted. I came out of the gooseberry-bushes where I could see well, and every time they sent up a batch of stars on that tail of fire and Mr. Man's boy shouted and danced, I danced about, too, and felt like shouting for the Fourth of July, which I decided must be star-making day every year.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BUT MOST OF ALL I WAS ANXIOUS TO SEE IN THAT BOX]

"But most of all I was anxious to see in that box. It seemed quite dark inside, and I couldn't understand where all the fire that they made the stars out of could come from, and I don't understand that part of it yet. I only know what happened next, which was this:

"Mr. Man and his little boy seemed to get through with the first part of the star-making performance, for I heard Mr. Man say, 'That's all of those. Now we'll have the Roman candles,' which I judged must be some different stars, perhaps little ones, because Mr. Man's boy said, 'Oh, I can do those--I can do the Roman candles.' Then Mr. Man came over and got something out of the box again, and I couldn't stand it any longer, I was so curious; so when he had gone back I slipped over and peeked in.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A BIG YELLOW ONE JUST GRAZED MY LEFT EAR]

"It was light enough for my eyes, and I could make out a number of curious-shaped little packages still in the box--some round and long, some round and short, and some flat like wheels or six-cornered, and some coiled around and around like little snails, and nothing among them like anything I had ever seen before. I couldn't imagine how those things could make stars, and was just about to take out one and examine it when there was a bright light and the Roman candles began to work and send up beautiful round stars right above our heads, first one way and then another, lighting up everything quite plainly. Just then Mr. Man's little boy must have looked in my direction, for he shouted right out, 'Oh, look! there's a young c.o.o.n!' and, without stopping to think, being so young himself, he aimed his Roman candle in my direction, and shot those stars straight at me. One big yellow one just grazed my left ear and scared me so I couldn't move at first. Then a big red one singed my back fur, and I commenced to dodge and get in motion. And just then a big blue star-ball came straight toward me. I thought I was gone then, but I wasn't. It didn't hit me; it fell short and went in the box.

"Well, there must have been ever so many of the best stars wasted that night. Before I could get fairly turned around those curious things I had seen in there began to go off. You never heard such a popping and fizzing and spluttering and banging, and you never could imagine such a flashing and flaming and wriggling of dangerous materials as that blue star-ball started.

[Ill.u.s.tration: I NOTICED A SCARED CHICKEN]

"Of course I didn't stay right there to enjoy it. About the first pop that came from that star-box I was headed in the other direction and up a tree, where I could get a good view and be out of range. It was most exciting. Every minute something new came out of that box--fiery snake things, and whirlers, and all sorts of fancy stuff, and things like bouquets of flowers, which I suppose would have been up there in the sky now for us to look at, if they hadn't been wasted so recklessly; and Mr.

Man and his family all came running with pails of water, but were afraid to get near enough to put it on, until the star-stuff was nearly used up; and just then I noticed a scared chicken on the limb next mine, so I took it and went home, though it wasn't a very good one, being picked out in that careless way.

"I told my folks about seeing Mr. Man and _his_ folks making the stars, but they didn't think much of my story. When I showed them the singed place on my back they said that I had probably been shot at, as I deserved to be for trying to borrow a chicken before Mr. Man had gone to bed, and that I had imagined or made up the rest. But I hadn't, for it all happened just as I have been telling it now. I don't know whether Mr. Man makes stars on the Fourth of July every year or not. I could have gone back to see if I had wanted to, but I didn't want to. I saw him do it once, which was plenty; and if he hadn't wasted a lot of his stuff we would have some finer stars than any I can see up there now."

Mr. Rabbit smoked thoughtfully a minute. Then he said: "That is certainly a very remarkable story, but I can't believe that those were real stars that Mr. Man and his family were making. I think those must all have been just shooting stars, and meteors, and comets and such things, that are always flying about and changing. There is a story in my family that accounts for the other stars, and seems more probable, because it happened a very long time ago, when 'most anything could be true and when all the first things began."

"Very likely," said the 'c.o.o.n, "but what I saw was plenty true enough to suit me, while it lasted."

FOOTNOTES:

[6] "On the Edge of the World," in _The Hollow Tree and Deep Woods Book_.

MR. RABBIT'S STAR STORY

JACK RABBIT TELLS OF HIS GRANDPAW'S LONG LADDER THAT TOUCHED THE SKY

This is the story that Jack Rabbit told to the Hollow Tree people when they sat together on the edge of the world, and hung their feet over the Big Nowhere and looked at the stars.

"Well," he said, "you may remember my telling you once about the moon being a world, and how, a long time ago, my folks used to live there, and all slid off one day, when the moon tipped up on its edge, and they were not holding on."

Mr. 'Possum said that he remembered quite well, and that Mr. Rabbit's story had seemed to explain everything--at the time. Of course, he said, an explanation couldn't be expected to last forever, and if Mr. Rabbit would like to make a new one, that would be even better, they would be glad to hear it, because Mr. Rabbit's stories were always interesting, even when doubtful, and besides--

Mr. Rabbit didn't wait for Mr. 'Possum to get done. He said it was one of those conversations that could be finished any time and didn't need any audience. "Perhaps Mr. 'Possum wouldn't mind waiting," he said, until the others had told their stories and gone home. Then he went right on to tell _his_ story, like this: