Part 9

VIII

HOW MR. FLYING SQUIRREL ALMOST GOT WINGS

VIII

HOW MR. FLYING SQUIRREL ALMOST GOT WINGS

Jimmy Skunk and Peter Rabbit were having a dispute. It was a good-natured dispute, but both Jimmy and Peter are very decided in their opinions, and neither would give in to the other. Finally they decided that as neither could convince the other, they should leave it for Grandfather Frog to decide which was right. So they straightway started for the Smiling Pool, where on his big green lily-pad Grandfather Frog was enjoying the twilight and leading the great Frog chorus. Both agreed that they would accept Grandfather Frog's decision. You see, each was sure that he was right.

When they reached the Smiling Pool, they found Grandfather Frog looking very comfortable and old and wise. "Good evening, Grandfather Frog. I hope you are feeling just as fine as you look," said Jimmy Skunk, who never forgets to be polite.

"Chug-a-rum! I'm feeling very well, thank you," replied Grandfather Frog. "What brings you to the Smiling Pool this fine evening?" He looked very hard at Peter Rabbit, for he suspected that Peter had come for a story.

"To get the wisest person of whom we know to decide a matter on which Peter and I cannot agree; and who is there so wise as Grandfather Frog?" replied Jimmy.

Grandfather Frog looked immensely pleased. It always pleases him to be considered wise. "Chug-a-rum!" said he gruffly. "You have a very smooth tongue, Jimmy Skunk. But what is this matter on which you cannot agree?"

"How many animals can fly?" returned Jimmy, by way of answer.

"One," replied Grandfather Frog. "I thought everybody knew that. Flitter the Bat is the only animal who can fly."

"You forget Timmy, the Flying Squirrel!" cried Peter excitedly. "That makes two."

Grandfather Frog shook his head. "Peter, Peter, whatever is the matter with those eyes of yours?" he exclaimed. "They certainly are big enough. I wonder if you ever will learn to use them. Half-seeing is sometimes worse than not seeing at all. Timmy cannot fly any more than I can."

"What did I tell you?" cried Jimmy Skunk triumphantly.

"But I've seen him fly lots of times!" persisted Peter. "I guess that any one who has envied him as often as I have ought to know."

"Hump!" grunted Grandfather Frog. "I guess that's the trouble. There was so much envy that it got into your eyes, and you couldn't see straight. Envy is a bad thing."

Jimmy Skunk chuckled.

"Did you ever see him away from trees?" continued Grandfather Frog.

"No," confessed Peter.

"Did you ever see him cut circles in the air like Flitter the Bat?"

"No-o," replied Peter slowly.

"Of course not," retorted Grandfather Frog. "The reason is because he doesn't fly. He hasn't any wings. What he does do is to coast on the air. He's the greatest jumper and coaster in the Green Forest."

"Coast on the air!" exclaimed Peter. "I never heard of such a thing."

"There are many things you never have heard of," replied Grandfather Frog. "Sit down, Peter, and stop fidgeting, and I'll tell you a story."

The very word story was enough to make Peter forget everything else, and he promptly sat down with his big eyes fixed on Grandfather Frog.

"It happened," began Grandfather Frog, "that way back in the beginning of things, there lived a very timid member of the Squirrel family, own cousin to Mr. Red Squirrel and Mr. Gray Squirrel, but not at all like them, for he was very gentle and very shy. Perhaps this was partly because he was very small and was not big enough or strong enough to fight his way as the others did. In fact, this little Mr. Squirrel was so timid that he preferred to stay out of sight during the day, when so many were abroad. He felt safer in the dusk of evening, and so he used to wait until jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had gone to bed behind the Purple Hills before he ventured out to hunt for his food. Then his quarrelsome cousins had gone to bed, and there was no one to drive him away when he found a feast of good things.

"But even at night there was plenty of danger. There was Mr. Owl to be watched out for, and other night prowlers. In fact, little Mr. Squirrel didn't feel safe on the ground a minute, and so he kept to the trees as much as possible. Of course, when the branches of one tree reached to the branches of another tree, it was an easy matter to travel through the tree-tops, but every once in a while there would be open places to cross, and many a fright did timid little Mr. Squirrel have as he scampered across these open places. He used to sit and watch old Mr. Bat flying about and wish that he had wings. Then he thought how foolish it was to wish for something he hadn't got and couldn't have.

"'The thing to do,' said little Mr. Squirrel to himself, 'is to make the most of what I have got. Now I am a pretty good jumper, but if I keep jumping, perhaps I can learn to jump better than I do now.'