The Tale of Grandfather Mole | Page 7

the
cat's attention, they agreed with him that there was some mystery about
Grandfather Mole. But not one of them knew what it could be.
"He's lost something!" Rusty Wren declared.
"There's no doubt of that," Jolly Robin chimed in.
"What can it be?" little Mr. Chippy piped in his thin voice.
"I know!" Rusty Wren exclaimed abruptly. "It's his bearings!
Grandfather Mole has lost his bearings!"

IX
GOOD NEWS FROM BELOW
WHEN Rusty Wren decided that Grandfather Mole had lost his
bearings and that that was the reason why he was running about the
garden in a most peculiar fashion, the rest of the birds began to wonder
whether they oughtn't to help Grandfather Mole find them, since he was
blind.
The Worm-eating Warbler, however, who was none too friendly
towards Grandfather Mole, said that he had his doubts as to
Grandfather Mole's blindness.
"If he can find angleworms in the dark he certainly ought to be able to
find his bearings in broad daylight," he sneered.
But Rusty Wren pointed out that nobody could see bearings, anyhow--a
remark that puzzled the Worm-eating Warbler more than a little. To tell

the truth, he had no idea what bearings were. And at last he admitted
that he didn't know.
"What are bearings, anyhow?" he asked Rusty Wren. "I don't
understand what you mean."
"Oh, I mean that Grandfather Mole has lost his way," Rusty Wren
explained. "He doesn't know how to get home."
The Worm-eating Warbler asked why Grandfather Mole didn't dig a
new hole for himself, if he had lost the one he used when he came up in
the garden. And when he saw that Rusty Wren couldn't answer his
question the Worm-eating Warbler said he had his doubts as to Rusty
Wren's ideas about Grandfather Mole.
"It's my opinion," he went on, "that Grandfather Mole has eaten all the
worms that lived in the ground; and now he's hoping to find some in the
air."
Although everybody laughed at such a notion, the Worm-eating
Warbler declared that he had a right to his own belief. And when he
added that he hadn't seen an angleworm for two days there were a few
of his bird companions that began to think perhaps there was some
reason in his remarks, after all.
But Rusty Wren declined to change his opinion.
"There's only one way to be sure; and that's to ask Grandfather Mole!"
little Mr. Chippy cried.
"It wouldn't do any good," Rusty told him. "Grandfather Mole won't
answer any questions. But he's in some sort of trouble. There's no doubt
of that."
They looked down at Grandfather Mole, who was still scurrying
frantically about the garden. If he heard their talk he did nothing to let
them know it. And they had begun to think that they would never know
his secret when a person who looked somewhat like Grandfather Mole

thrust her head and shoulders out of a hole in the ground.
"That"--Rusty Wren whispered--"that is Grandfather Mole's daughter. I
know, for I've seen her before." And listening sharply, the bird people
heard her say, "Don't worry, Father! I've found them."
Grandfather Mole didn't wait for anything more. He didn't even wait
until he had found the opening in which his daughter had appeared. He
began to dig right where he stood. And he was out of sight in short
order.
Although the bird people didn't know it, he was anxious to reach his
grandchildren. He had them out for a stroll through his underground
galleries; and walking behind him they had taken a wrong turn when
Grandfather Mole didn't know it. After looking for them in vain down
below he had feared that they might have found their way into the open
air. And that was why he was running about in such a distracted
fashion.

X
MRS. ROBIN'S WISH
IN order to provide enough food for her children--as well as for the
young Cowbird that she was bringing up--Mrs. Jolly Robin had to work
hard every day. Though her husband gladly did what he could to help
her, he complained sometimes about the stranger in their nest.
"Our family is certainly big enough without him," he often remarked.
"We ought to turn him out to shift for himself."
But Mrs. Robin wouldn't hear of such a thing.
"It's not his fault that his mother left him here--in the egg," she would
remind Jolly Robin. "If we set him adrift the poor child would
starve--unless the cat got him."

And then Jolly Robin would feel ashamed that he had even thought of
being so cruel to an infant bird, even if he was a Cowbird. So he would
set to work harder than ever gathering worms and grubs and bugs; and
before long he would find himself