The Tale of Peter Mink - Part 2
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Part 2

"My lecture," Peter Mink began, when all was quiet, "my lecture to-night is going to be about a poor boy who has no one to take care of him. He has no home. And very often he goes about in rags. Sometimes he begs for food and clothes. I think," Peter said, "we all ought to be very sorry for him."

As soon as Peter said that, Mrs. Squirrel and Mrs. Woodchuck took out their pocket-handkerchiefs and wiped their eyes. And Mrs. Squirrel's husband was heard to remark that it was a shame, and that he thought something ought to be done.

Well, Peter Mink went on and told them as many as twenty-three different tales about that poor boy, to show them what a hard life he led. Every tale was sadder than the one just before it. And by the time Peter had finished the twenty-third, there were very few dry eyes in the place.

And Mr. Squirrel spoke up loudly and said once more that _something_ ought to be done about it.

When he said that, Uncle Jerry Chuck rose hurriedly and hobbled away from the lecture. He had sat in one of the best seats, because it was free. And he had wept quite noisily, once or twice, because it cost no more to weep and he wanted all he could get for nothing. But when Mr.

Squirrel said what he did, Uncle Jerry at once thought of a _collection_. And he decided that he had better leave before it was too late.

Peter Mink saw him go. And here and there he noticed other people who looked as if they would like to leave, too. And he knew that there was no time to lose.

"I see one gentleman leaving," Peter Mink said in a loud voice. "I hope no more will go--unless, of course, they're so stingy that they wouldn't care to give a little something to help this poor boy I've been telling you about."

After that, n.o.body wanted to leave, because n.o.body wanted to be thought stingy.

"I appoint Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Woodchuck to take up a _collection_ for this poor boy," Peter Mink said. "And I've no doubt that they will be glad to give all they can, themselves."

Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Woodchuck saw that everybody was looking at them. And they at once emptied their pocket-books into their hats.

"What's his name? What's the poor boy's name?" a hoa.r.s.e voice called. It was Mr. Crow who asked the question.

"That," said Peter Mink, "is something I do not care to tell to everybody."

And many people clapped their hands. They were beginning to have a better opinion of Peter Mink.

But old Mr. Crow only laughed loudly from his perch in the tree.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Pa.s.sING THE HAT

After giving all they happened to have in their pocket-books, Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Woodchuck began to pa.s.s their hats to take up the collection for the poor boy that Peter Mink had been telling them about. And all the people who had come to hear Peter's lecture began to dig down into their pockets.

"That's right!" Peter cried. "Give what you can! Of course, I don't expect the poor people to give as much as the rich."

That made everybody decide that he would give all he had with him. And many people wished they had brought more. Besides, no one wanted to be thought stingy, like Uncle Jerry Chuck, who had hurried away as soon as he suspected that there was going to be a collection.

When Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Woodchuck had pa.s.sed their hats to every person present, their hats were filled to the brim. And they marched proudly up to the stump where Peter Mink still stood.

Peter jumped down to the ground.

"Keep your seats, everybody!" he called. "The next thing to be done is to count this money. And I will do that myself." So Peter picked up the two hats and started away.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Rabbit asked him.

"Just a little way into the woods," said Peter. "It's so noisy here, with all this talking, that I might make a mistake."

"We'll go with you and help you," Mr. Rabbit told him.

"Oh, you don't need to do that," said Peter Mink.

But Mr. Rabbit insisted.

"One of those hats is mine," he remarked. "And wherever _it_ goes, I go, too," And he beckoned to Mr. Woodchuck to follow.

Well, Peter Mink didn't like that very well. You see, he had planned to go into the woods alone with the money. And n.o.body likes to have his plans upset. But there was nothing he could say. So they all three went into a thicket of elderberry bushes and counted the money.

"I thought there was more," Peter said. "Maybe we dropped some of the money. You and Mr. Woodchuck had better go back and see if you can find any," he told Mr. Rabbit.

But Mr. Rabbit said that they could just as well all go back together and search along the ground as they went.

"All right!" said Peter Mink. "Well leave these hatfuls right here for a while."

But Mr. Rabbit said he didn't think that would be a safe thing to do. So he picked up one hatful, and told Mr. Woodchuck to carry the other.

Peter Mink didn't like that at all. But there was nothing he could say.

So they all went back together to the place where the rest of the people were still waiting. And they found no more money, either.

Mr. Rabbit jumped up on the stump where Peter had stood and talked.

"The question is," he said, "who is going to take charge of all this money?"

"I am!" said Peter Mink.

But Mr. Rabbit said he didn't think that would be safe.

"You have no home, you know," he told Peter. "And you can't very well carry the money about with you. I must have my hat back; and no doubt Mr. Woodchuck will want his, too."

Mr. Woodchuck nodded his head. He certainly did want his hat. It was the best one he had.

"I would suggest--" said Mr. Rabbit then--"I would suggest that I take one hatful home with me, and that Mr. Woodchuck take the other to his house. Then we'll each have our hats; and the money will be perfectly safe."

"That's a good idea!" Peter Mink said. "The only trouble with it is that it won't do at all. For you and Mr. Woodchuck don't know the poor boy.

So how could you ever give him the money?"

Everybody said that was so.

"This Peter Mink is certainly a bright young fellow," people told one another.

Mr. Rabbit looked puzzled.

"What do _you_ suggest, then?" he asked Peter.

Peter Mink smiled. He seemed pleased, for one reason or another.