Mother West Wind Why Stories | Page 5

Mother Nature, throwing up her hands as
she saw the tumble-down house almost hidden by the brambles and
weeds. 'Can it be possible that any one really lives here?'
Then, peering through the tangle of brambles, she spied old Mr. Rabbit
sitting on his broken-down doorstep with his arms folded and fast
asleep.
"At first she was very indignant, oh, very indignant, indeed! She
decided that Mr. Rabbit should be punished very severely. But as she
watched him sitting there, dreaming in the warm sunshine, her anger
began to melt away. The fact is, Old Mother Nature was like all the rest
of Mr. Rabbit's neighbors--she just couldn't help loving happy-go-lucky
Mr. Rabbit in spite of all his faults. With a long stick she reached in
and tickled the end of his nose.
"Mr. Rabbit sneezed, and this made him wake up. He yawned and
blinked, and then his eyes suddenly flew wide open with fright. He had
discovered Old Mother Nature frowning at him. She pointed a long
forefinger at him and said:
'In every single blessed day There's time for work and time for play.
Who folds his arms with work undone Doth cheat himself and spoil his
fun.'
"'Hereafter, Mr. Rabbit, you and your children and your children's
children will never again be able to sit with folded arms until you or
they have learned to work.'
"And that is why Peter Rabbit cannot fold his arms and still lives in a
tumble-down house among the brambles," concluded Grandfather Frog.

III
WHY UNC' BILLY POSSUM PLAYS DEAD
One thing puzzled Peter Rabbit and Johnny Chuck and Striped
Chipmunk a great deal after they had come to know Unc' Billy Possum

and his funny ways. They had talked it over and wondered and
wondered about it, and tried to understand it, and even had asked Unc'
Billy about it. Unc' Billy had just grinned and said that they would have
to ask his mammy. Of course they couldn't do that, and Unc' Billy
knew they couldn't, for Unc' Billy's mammy had died long before he
even thought of coming up from Ol' Virginny to the Green Forest and
the Green Meadows where they lived. He said it just to tease them, and
when he said it, he chuckled until they chuckled too, just as if it really
were the best kind of a joke.
Now you know it always is the thing that you try and try to find out and
can't find out that you most want to find out. It was just so with Peter
Rabbit and Johnny Chuck and Striped Chipmunk. The more they talked
about it, the more they wanted to know. Why was it that Unc' Billy
Possum played dead instead of trying to run away when he was
surprised by his enemies? They always tried to run away. So did
everybody else of their acquaintance excepting Unc' Billy Possum.
"There must be a reason" said Peter gravely, as he pulled thoughtfully
at one of his long ears.
"Of course there is a reason," asserted Johnny Chuck, chewing the end
of a blade of grass.
"There's a reason for everything," added Striped Chipmunk, combing
out the hair of his funny little tail.
"Then of course Grandfather Frog knows it," said Peter.
"Of course! Why didn't we think of him before?" exclaimed the others.
"I'll beat you to the Smiling Pool!" shouted Peter.
Of course he did, for his legs are long and made for running, but
Striped Chipmunk was not far behind. Johnny Chuck took his time, for
he knew that he could not keep up with the others. Besides he was so
fat that to run made him puff and blow. Grandfather Frog sat just as
usual on his big green lily-pad, and he grinned when he saw who his
visitors were, for he guessed right away what they had come for.
"Chug-a-rum! What is it you want to know now?" he demanded, before
Peter could fairly get his breath.
"If you please, Grandfather Frog, we want to know why it is that Unc'
Billy Possum plays dead," replied Peter as politely as he knew how.
Grandfather Frog chuckled. "Just to fool people, stupid!" said he.
"Of course we know that," replied Striped Chipmunk, "but what we

want to know is how he ever found out that he could fool people that
way, and how he knows that he will fool them."
"I suspect that his mammy taught him," said Grandfather Frog, with
another chuckle way down deep in his throat.
"But who taught his mammy?" persisted Striped Chipmunk.
Grandfather Frog snapped at a foolish green fly, and when it was safely
tucked away inside his white and yellow waistcoat, he turned once
more to his three little visitors, and there was a