THE DISCONTENTED FOX

  MR. ROBIN TELLS HOW A FOX LEARNED A GOOD LESSON BY TAKING A LONG JOURNEY

  ONCE upon a time there was a Fox who lived at the foot of a hill and hada _nice garden_. One morning when he began to hoe in it he got tired,and the sun was _very hot_. Then the Fox didn't like to hoe any more,and made up his mind that it wasn't very pleasant to have a garden,anyway.

  So then he started out to travel and find _pleasant things_. He put onhis best clothes, and the first house he came to belonged to a Rabbitwho kept bees. And the Rabbit showed the Fox his bees and how to takeout the honey. And the Fox said, "What _pleasant work_!" and wanted totake out honey too. But when he did there was a bee on the honey, and itstung the Fox on the nose. And that hurt the Fox, and his nose began toswell up, and he said: "This is not pleasant work _at all_!" and ofcourse it wasn't--not for _him_--though the Rabbit seemed to enjoy it_more than ever_.

  So the Fox travelled on, and the next house he came to belonged to aCrow who made pies. And the Fox looked at him awhile and said, "What_pleasant work_!" And the Crow let the Fox help him, and when the Foxwent to take a pie out of the oven he burnt his fingers _quite badly_.Then he said, "No, it is _not_ pleasant work--not for _me_!" and thatwas true, though the Crow seemed to enjoy it _more than ever_.

  So the Fox went on again, and the next house he came to belonged to a'Coon who milked cows. And the Fox watched him milk, and pretty soon hesaid: "What pleasant work that _is_! Let _me_ milk." So the 'Coon letthe Fox milk, and the Cow put her foot in the milk-pail and upset it_all over_ the Fox's nice _new clothes_. And the Fox was mad, and said:"This work is not in the _least_ pleasant!" and he _hurried away_,though the 'Coon seemed to enjoy it _more than ever_.

  And the next house the Fox came to belonged to a Cat who played thefiddle. And the Fox listened awhile and said: "What pleasant work that_must be_!" and he borrowed the Cat's fiddle. But when he started downthe road playing, a Man ran around the corner and shot a loud gun athim, and that was not pleasant, _either_, though the Cat seemed to enjoyit _more than ever_.

  So the Fox kept on travelling and _doing_ things that he thought wouldbe _pleasant_, but that did not turn out to _be_ pleasant--not for_him_--until by-and-by he had travelled _clear around the world_ and hadcome up on the other side, _back_ to his _own garden_ again. And hisgarden was just the same as he had left it, only the things had grownbigger, and there were _some weeds_.

  And the Fox jumped over the fence and commenced to _hoe_ the _weeds_,and pretty soon he said, "Why, this is _pleasant_!" Then he hoed somemore, and said, "Why, what pleasant work _this is_!"

  So he kept on hoeing and finding it pleasant until by-and-by the weedswere _all gone_, and the _Rabbit_ and the _Crow_ and the _Cat_ and the_'Coon_ came and traded him honey and pies and milk and music forvegetables, because he had the best garden in the world. And he _hasyet_!

  * * * * *

  When Mr. Robin got through and sat down, Mr. Squirrel spoke up and saidit was a good story because it had a moral lesson in it and taught folksto like the things they knew best how to do, and Mr. 'Possum said yes,that might be so, but that the story couldn't be true, because none ofthose animals would have enjoyed seeing that Fox leave them, but wouldhave persuaded him to stay and help them, and would have taught him todo most of the work.

  Then Mr. Robin spoke up and said that Mr. 'Possum thought everybody waslike himself, and that anyway Mr. 'Possum didn't need the lesson in thatstory, for he already liked to do the things he could do best, whichwere to eat and sleep and let other people do the work, though of coursehe had been very good about getting the wood, lately, which certainlywas unusual.

  Then Mr. 'Possum said he didn't see why Mr. Robin should speak in thatcross way when he had only meant to be kind and show him the mistake inhis story, so he could fix it right. And Mr. Rabbit said that as Mr.'Possum seemed to know so much how stories and poems ought to bewritten, perhaps he'd show now what he could do in that line himself.

  Mr. 'Possum said he hadn't written anything because it was too muchtrouble, but that he would tell them a story if they would like to hearit--something that had really happened, because he had been there, andwas old enough to remember.

  But before he began Mr. Robin said that as they had not cared much abouthis story he would like to recite a few lines he had thought of, whichwould perhaps explain how he felt, and all the animals said, "Of course,go right on," and Mr. Robin bowed and recited a little poem he had made,called

  ONLY ME

  _By C. Robin_

  How came a little bird like me A place in this fine group to win? My mind is small--it has to be-- The little place I keep it in. How came a little bird like me To be here in the Hollow Tree?

  When all the others know so much, And are so strong and gifted too, How can I dare to speak of such As I can know, and think, and do? How can a little bird like me Belong here in the Hollow Tree?

  MR. 'POSSUM SAID HE HADN'T MEANT ANYTHING AT ALL BY WHATHE HAD SAID ABOUT THE STORY]

  Well, when Mr. Robin finished that, all the others spoke right up andsaid that Mr. Robin must never write anything so sad as that again. Theysaid his story was just as good as it could be, and that Mr. Robin wasone of the smartest ones there; and Mr. 'Possum burst into tears, andsaid that he hadn't meant anything at all by what he had said about thestory, and that some time, when they were all alone, Mr. Robin musttell it to him again, and he would try to have sense enough tounderstand it.

  Then he ran over to Mr. Robin, and was going to embrace him and weep onhis shoulder, and would very likely have mashed him if Mr. Turtle hadn'tdragged him back to his seat and told him that he had done damage enoughto people's feelings without killing anybody, and the best thing hecould do now would be to go on with a story of his own if he had any.

  But Mr. 'Possum said he was too sleepy now, so Mr. Dog sang the poemwhich he had promised the evening before because, he said, singing wouldbe a nice thing to go to sleep on. Mr. Dog's song was called

  THE CAT WHO WOULD BE KING

  There was cat who kept a store, With other cats for customers. His milk and mice All packed in ice-- His catnip all in canisters.

  Fresh milk he furnished every day-- Two times a day and sometimes three-- And so this cat Grew rich and fat And proud as any cat could be.

  But though so fat and rich he grew He was not satisfied at all-- At last quoth he, "A king I'll be Of other cats both great and small."

  AND SO THIS CAT CREW RICH AND FAT]

  Then hied he to the tinner cat, Who made for him a tinsel crown, And on the street, A king complete, He soon went marching up and down.

  Now, many cats came out to see, And some were filled with awe at him; While some, alack, Behind his back Did laugh and point a paw at him.

  HIS CLERKS]

  Mice, milk, and catnip did he scorn; He went to business less and less-- And everywhere He wore an air Of arrogance and haughtiness.

  His clerks ate catnip all day long-- They spent much time in idle play; They left the mice From off the ice-- They trusted cats who could not pay.

  A SOLEMN LOOK WAS IN HIS FACE]

  While happy in his tin-shop crown Each day the king went marching out, Elate because He thought he was The kind of king you read about.

  But lo, one day, he strolled too far, And in a dim and dismal place A cat he met, Quite small, and yet A solemn look was in his face.

  One fiery eye this feline wore-- A waif he was of low degree-- No gaudy dress Did he possess, Nor yet a handsome cat was he.

  But lo, he smote that spurious
king And stripped him of his tinsel crown, Then like the wind Full close behind He chased His Highness into town.

  With cheers his subjects saw him come. He did not pause--he did not stop, But straight ahead He wildly fled Till he was safe within his shop.

  He caught his breath and gazed about-- A sorry sight did he behold: No catnip there Or watchful care-- No mice and milk and joy of old.

  He heaved a sigh and dropped a tear-- He sent those idle clerks away-- Quoth he, "My pride Is satisfied; This kingdom business does not pay."

  With care once more he runs his store, His catnip all in canisters-- His milk and mice All packed in ice, And humbly serves his customers.

  QUOTH HE, "MY PRIDE IS SATISFIED; THIS KINGDOM BUSINESSDOES NOT PAY"]