Mother West Winds Children | Page 4

asked him right out if he had stolen the acorns.
"Of course Mr. Meadow Mouse said that he had not stolen the acorns.
"'Then where did you get the bag of acorns?' asked old Mother Nature.
"When she asked this, Mr. Wharf Rat, who was sitting in the crowd of
meadow people, got up and softly tiptoed away when he thought no
one was looking. But old Mother Nature saw him. You can't fool old
Mother Nature. No, Sir, you can't fool old Mother Nature, and it's of no
use to try.
"Mr. Meadow Mouse didn't know what to say. He knew now that Mr.
Wharf Rat must be the thief, but Mr. Wharf Rat was his cousin, and he
had always looked up to him as a very fine gentleman. He couldn't tell
the world that Mr. Wharf Rat was a thief. So Mr. Meadow Mouse said
nothing.
"Three times old Mother Nature asked Mr. Meadow Mouse where he
got the bag of acorns, and each time Mr. Meadow Mouse said nothing.
"'Mr. Meadow Mouse,' said old Mother Nature, and her voice was very
stern, 'I know that you did not steal the acorns of Striped Chipmunk. I
know that you did not even guess that there were stolen acorns in that
bag. Everyone else thinks that you are the thief who caused so much
trouble on the Green Meadows and in the Green Forest. But I know

who the real thief is and he is stealing away as fast as he can go down
the Lone Little Path this very minute.'
"All of the little meadow people and forest folks turned to look down
the Lone Little Path, but it was so dark none could see, none but Hooty
the Owl, whose eyes are made to see in the dark.
"'I see him!' cried Hooty the Owl. 'It's Mr. Wharf Rat!'
"'Yes,' said old Mother Nature, 'it's Mr. Wharf Rat--he is the thief. And
this shall be his punishment: Always hereafter he will be driven out
wherever he is found. He shall no longer live in the Green Meadows or
the Green Forest. Everyone will turn their backs upon him. He will live
on what others throw away. He will live in filth and there will be no
one to say a good word for him. He will become an outcast instead of a
fine gentleman.'
"'And you, Mr. Meadow Mouse, in order that you may remember
always to avoid bad company, and that while it is a splendid thing to be
loyal to your friends and not to tell tales, it is also a very, very wrong
thing to shield those who have done wrong when by so doing you
simply help them to keep on doing wrong--you shall no longer have the
splendid long tail of which you are so proud, but it shall be short and
stubby.'
"Even while old Mother Nature was speaking, Mr. Meadow Mouse felt
his tail grow shorter and shorter, and when she had finished he had just
a little mean stub of a tail.
"Of course he felt terribly. And while Striped Chipmunk hurried to tell
him how sorry he felt, and while all the other little meadow people also
hurried to tell him how sorry they felt, he could not be comforted. So
he slipped away as quickly as he could, and because he was so ashamed
he crept along underneath the long grass that no one should see his
short tail. And ever since that long ago time when the world was
young," concluded Grandfather Frog, "the Meadow Mice have had
short tails and have always scurried along under cover of the long grass
where no one will see them. And the Wharf Rats have never again lived

in the Green Meadows or in the Green Forest, but have lived on filth
and garbage around the homes of men, with every man's hand against
them."
"Thank you, Grandfather Frog," said Danny Meadow Mouse, very
soberly. "Now I understand why my tail is short and I shall not forget."
"But it isn't your fault at all, Danny Meadow Mouse," cried the Merry
Little Breezes, who had been listening, "and we love you just as much
as if your tail was long!"
Then they played tag with him all the way up the Lone Little Path to
his house, till Danny Meadow Mouse quite forgot that he had wished
that his tail was long.

II
WHY REDDY FOX HAS NO FRIENDS
The Green Meadows lay peaceful and still. Mother Moon, sailing high
overhead, looked down upon them and smiled and smiled, flooding
them with her silvery light. All day long the Merry Little Breezes of
Old Mother West Wind had romped there among the asters and
goldenrod. They had played tag