Father Thrift and His Animal Friends

  FATHER THRIFT AND HIS ANIMAL FRIENDS

  by

  JOSEPH C. SINDELAR

  Author ofThe Nixie Bunny Books

  With Pictures by Helen Geraldine Hodge

  Beckley-Cardy CompanyChicago

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  BOOKS BY JOSEPH C. SINDELAR BOW-WOW AND MEW-MEW (Craik-Sindelar). Illustrated in colors. NIXIE BUNNY IN MANNERS-LAND. Illustrated in colors. NIXIE BUNNY IN WORKADAY-LAND. Illustrated in colors. NIXIE BUNNY IN HOLIDAY-LAND. Illustrated in colors. NIXIE BUNNY IN FARAWAY-LANDS. Illustrated in colors. FATHER THRIFT AND HIS ANIMAL FRIENDS. Illustrated in black and color. MORNING EXERCISES FOR ALL THE YEAR. BEST MEMORY GEMS. BRIGHT ENTERTAINMENTS FOR CHRISTMAS. THE BEST THANKSGIVING BOOK. THE BEST CHRISTMAS BOOK. MERRY CHRISTMAS ENTERTAINMENTS. CLOSING DAY ENTERTAINMENTS.

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  Copyright, 1918, by Joseph C. SindelarAll Rights Reserved

  Printed in the United States of America

  To Joseph C. Jr. and his friends

  CONTENTS

  PAGE

  The Queer Little Old Man 11 The Little Old Man Decides 17 His First Day in the Forest 23 Great Gray Owl 29 The Animals of the Forest 35 What Made the Bear Sick 41 How the Woodpeckers Helped 47 The Busy Beavers 53 The Gray Foxes and the Red Foxes 59 Red Squirrel and Bunny Cottontail 65 Shaggy Bear's Mistake 71 The Sweetest Thing in the Forest 77 Robins, Crows, and Blackbirds 85 The Little Raindrops 91 Trouble in the Forest 97 Two Bad Boys 103 The Boys and the Birds 109 Insects and Worms 115 After Many Days 123

  Introduction

  As from the days your father's father knew, This little story book now comes to you. So when you turn its pages, heed them well: Though strange the stories, many truths they tell.

  They tell of animals and birds and trees, Of children, flowers, and honeybees; Of a queer old man, and a quaint old town With crooked streets that ran up and down.

  They tell of these and many, many more. Still, this I'd add to what has gone before: In the wood there grows a tree--the thrifty tree-- As wonderful as anything can be!

  Its trunk is copper; silver are its leaves; Its blossoms from bright golden threads it weaves; Its fruit is health and wealth and honest joy-- So seek this goodly tree, wise girl and boy.

  FATHER THRIFT AND HIS ANIMAL FRIENDS

  THE QUEER LITTLE OLD MAN

  Once upon a time, in a quaint old town, there lived a queer little oldman. His name was Thrift--Father Thrift people called him, although hereally was no father at all.

  As I said before, he was just a queer little old man. He had no wife,no children, no home of his own.

  But he had a kind heart within his queer little body. Also, he hadwilling hands and feet, and these brought him many friends.

  How old the queer little man was, or how long he had lived in thequaint old town, no one seemed to know.

  The present grandfathers and grandmothers remembered how the queerlittle man used to take them, as children, on his lap and tell themstories.

  He had told the same stories to their children and to their children'schildren. Yet to none of them did he look any different to-day than hedid when they first saw him.

  You must not think that telling stories was all the queer little oldman had to do. He was a sort of all-round village helper. He helpedeverybody who needed help.

  But it was for his good advice that the queer little old man was mostsought. He always thought well for everybody, and the people profitedby following his teaching.

  In fact, the whole town grew prosperous, _extremely_ prosperous, byheeding Father Thrift's advice.

  You would suppose that the queer little old man would be wellrewarded.

  Not so! For when these people became very, _very_ prosperous, theyfelt that the queer little old man was only in their way.

  What further need had they of his advice?

  He had taught them to live simply, to spend wisely, and to wastenothing. He had taught them to enjoy simple pleasures and to formsimple habits.

  "Of what good is time or money, body or brain, if we do not know howto use any of them?" he would say.

  "What will become of good health if we do not take care of it?

  "Of what good is study-time or play-time unless we get the most we canout of it?

  "Or of what worth is life itself if we waste it?"

  But the townspeople would not listen to him now. Young Mr. Spendthrifthad come to town and they followed him. They only laughed at FatherThrift.

  "Poor, queer old man!" they said. "He must be out of his head."

  And they began to spend money foolishly, and to waste their time andtheir health as well as their money.

  _How_ it grieved the queer little old man to see things go so!

  Day after day he would sit with his head in his hands, thinking,thinking, _thinking_. (He liked to think even better than most peoplelike to eat.)

  Then one day, after he had sat for a long, long time thinking, he gotup and exclaimed: "At last, at last I have it! I'm sure I have it,this time. Yes, I'm sure."

  And those who heard the queer little old man said: "Just as we toldyou. Poor fellow, he's out of his head! Some of the wheels up herehave gotten badly out of order." And they pointed to their foreheads.

  But the old man heard them not. Or if he heard he lost no sleep onaccount of what they said.

  THE LITTLE OLD MAN DECIDES

  The next day the whole town was busy--very busy--gossiping. Everybodytold everybody else what the queer little old man had been overheardto say.

  But where was the little old man?

  Now that they thought of it, who had seen him since the night before?

  Nobody!

  Where could he be? Had he dropped through a crack in the floor, hisdisappearance could not have been more sudden or more complete.

  Every one was excited. It was not that the town cared particularlyabout the queer little old man. It was not that, at all. Only thepeople were curious to learn where he could have gone or what couldhave happened to him.

  * * * * *

  Leading from the town was a crooked road that was traveled but little.At the end of the road was a great forest where there lived manyanimals and birds.

  Had any of the townspeople been up very, very early on the morningthat the queer little old man disappeared, they need not have been soexcited.

  For on that morning a bent little figure might have been seen trudgingalong the crooked road leading toward the forest.

  The man was dressed poorly, almost shabbily. He walked slowly, andseemed to be deep in thought.

  Over his shoulder he carried a cane. From it hung a bag made of a bigred figured handkerchief.

  Apparently the man was on a journey, and the big red figuredhandkerchief was his traveling bag.

  The fat, round-faced Moon Man smiled down from his home in the sky atthe little figure in the road. His mouth seemed to move, and I am surehe was saying:

  "Go, brave little old man. Go where you've decided to go.

  "If you are going to the forest, you will no doubt find a welcomethere. Some animals and birds are better as friends than are somepeople.

  "Anyway, the great forest is in need of your lessons. I will light thew
ay for you. May the good spirits attend you!"

  And in the stillness of the early morning the queer little old man ofthe quaint old town might have been heard to answer:

  "So I have decided. Come what may, I shall be satisfied.

  "Thank you, kind Moon Man, for your good wishes and for your brightlight."

  And on and on he trudged.

  The orange sun was peeping its head above the horizon when the queerlittle old man reached the edge of the forest.

  What warmth the glorious sun gave! His rays gave warmth of heart aswell as warmth of body.

  The old man sat down on a log, to rest his tired legs and to take abite to eat.

  Then a voice within the queer little old man began to talk.

  It said: "Perhaps, after all, you should not have left the quaint oldtown. You were a coward to run away.

  "Ever since young Mr. Spendthrift came there to live you have beendiscontented. And when the people began to take his advice rather thanyours, you grew angry and left.

  "Is that the way for an old man to do who always had plenty to eat andto wear?"

  But another voice with a fiery little temper was waiting to be heard.

  "What!" it cried, "have you no principle? Are you a worm, to bestepped upon?

  "Waste is wrong, no matter what you waste. Thrift is right and foreverwill be.

  "Therefore, hie you to the heart of the forest as you have decided.You will at least have peace of mind, and surely that is worth as muchas 'plenty to eat and to wear'!"

  HIS FIRST DAY IN THE FOREST

  At last Father Thrift was in the heart of the forest.

  It was very peaceful there.

  The wind rustled the leaves on the trees.

  The birds flew among the branches and sang and talked and scolded.

  Do birds ever scold?

  Oh, my, yes! You should hear the mother birds, sometimes, when thefather birds waste their time about the house and the baby birds arehungry!

  But this morning nearly everything in the forest seemed happy.

  The squirrels leaped from tree to tree.

  Robin sang his merry "Cheer-up! chee, chee! Cheer-up! chee, chee!" Andhe sang it again and again.

  I think he tried to say: "Welcome, queer little old man! Welcome tothe forest!" (Besides, he _may_ have found some good fat worms toeat.)

  The dry leaves and small twigs crackled under the little old man'sfeet as he walked along.

  He could hear the soft, rippling sound of the water as it ran over thestones in the brook.

  He knew that in the shade of the bending willow trees little fishesplayed in the water.

  Blue sky was above him. Green grass was all around him. Flowers grewat his feet.

  Was not the forest a glorious place in which to be!

  The queer little old man drew in a deep, deep breath.

  The air was filled with the perfume of the pine trees.

  "Tap, tap, tap!" Who is disturbing the peace of the forest? It soundslike a carpenter with his hammer.

  "Tap, tap, tap!" There it goes again.

  The queer little old man looked around.

  "Oh, there you are, you little redhead!" he said.

  It was Woodpecker. Funny bird! How swiftly he climbs the trunk of thetree!

  "Tap, tap, tap!" he knocks with his bill. "Come out from under thebark, you bugs!" he cries. "I want some dinner."

  But the bugs do not always come. So Woodpecker bores a hole in thedecayed part of the tree and with his bill goes after them.

  Does he get them? Yes, indeed; so quickly does he work that the poorlittle bugs wouldn't have time to whistle for help even if they knewhow.

  "Curious fellow, that!" said the queer little old man. "He isindustrious, too.

  "He reminds me of the hop-toad that came to one of the gardens lastsummer.

  "The toad, too, used to catch and eat the bugs. By doing so he savedmany a plant from being destroyed.

  "But what a homely old fellow he was! And how handsome the woodpeckeris!

  "It is quite true that one does not grow to look like what he eats,but rather like what he thinks.

  "The hop-toad lives so close to the ground that he sees only the brownearth. And if he thinks at all he thinks of _that_.

  "But the woodpecker flies in the air and lives in the trees.

  "He sees the blue sky and the pretty flowers and the silvery brook.There is beauty all around him. And if you wish to know of what _he_thinks, just see how he _looks_."

  Thus the queer old man spent his first day in the forest. Every littlething interested him. He watched the busy bees at work. He traced thefootprints of bears and rabbits and deer in the soft ground along thebrook.

  But at last night came and spread its cover of darkness over all.

  In a cave the queer little man made a soft bed of dry leaves. Then helay down to sleep.

  "Friends, good-night," he whispered to the forest.

  And the trees rustled back, "Good-night, good-night."

  GREAT GRAY OWL

  Great Gray Owl sat up in the tree, winking and blinking.

  He would turn his head first in one direction, then in another.

  Wise old bird! What he could not see with those large glassy eyes ofhis was hardly worth seeing.

  Suddenly he flew to the ground. There, like a brave sentinel, hemarched back and forth in front of the cave in which Father Thrift wassleeping.

  Several times in the night the queer little old man heard the hootingof the owl. More than once he thought he heard the wise bird say,"Who-oo, who-oo goes there?"

  The first time a sharp "Hiss-ss, hiss-ss!" came in reply. FatherThrift shivered to think of a snake crawling so near him.

  Then he heard the owl's sharp command: "Halt! What is your businesshere?"

  "I'm visiting friends that live in a hole in that cave," replied thesnake.

  "I advise you to do your visiting some other time," said the owl."Father Thrift is sleeping in the cave to-night. He must not bedisturbed."

  With the snake the owl's word was law. He had known of several snakesthat had shortened their lives by not taking the wise bird's advice.

  "Such strong claws, such a hooked bill, such sharp eyes, are not to betrifled with," thought the snake, as he wriggled along toward home."But what is the forest coming to when one can't visit his friends?Besides, who is Father Thrift, anyway?"

  Just then Great Gray Owl called to the snake: "Come to the cave,here, at ten o'clock in the morning and don't forget. Tell yourfriends to come, too. There will be a meeting of all the animals ofthe forest."

  As he finished saying this the owl heard a loud crackling of twigs anda rustling of leaves behind him. He turned around just in time to faceShaggy Bear.

  "What, ho, Friend Owl!" cried the bear. "What are you about thisevening? Are you looking for wee mice or for tender little bunnies?"

  "No," said Great Gray Owl, "not to-night. I am keeping watch so thatFather Thrift may not be disturbed in his sleep."

  "And who, pray, may Father Thrift be?" asked Shaggy Bear.

  "To-morrow, at ten o'clock in the morning, if you will come back here,you may learn who Father Thrift is. For the present I will say thatthe cave in which you have been in the habit of sleeping will beFather Thrift's home in the future."

  "So, so!" growled Shaggy Bear. "So, _so_!" (He spoke this last rathercrossly.)

  "Yes," said Great Gray Owl, "that, at least, has been decided."

  Then he went on: "Aren't you glad it was _your_ cave that was chosenfor Father Thrift? Aren't you _glad_? Think of the honor it will be toyou to have him use it! Just _think_ of it!"

  What a fine fellow the owl was, to be sure, to give other people'sthings away so generously!

  As for the bear, whether he thought of the honor or not, I cannot say.He never was known to be much of a thinker.

  Nevertheless the owl's tactful words soothed him, and he felt quitesatisfied to leave things as they were.

  "I know of other cave
s and of hollows in trees where I can sleep,"said Shaggy Bear. "When I'm full of honey I don't care!"

  That the bear was full of honey seemed quite clear.

  Indeed, if you might judge by outside appearances, he was over full.The sticky stuff was running down his chin, and he kept wiping it offwith his big paw as he walked away in lazy bear fashion.

  Before morning all the animals of the wood, and the birds and thebees, knew that at ten o'clock there would be a meeting at the cave.

  What it was about or who Father Thrift was, not one of them knew. Thatis, no one knew except the owl; and he wouldn't say.

  THE ANIMALS OF THE FOREST

  The next morning the sun was up before Father Thrift. In fact, when heawoke the sun had already taken the sparkling dewdrops away on ajourney back to the clouds.

  The sky was bright. The birds were singing, the insects humming. Andthe flowers were smiling and thanking the sun for the warmth and thelight.

  Father Thrift rubbed his eyes and looked about him. Something waswrong, very wrong!

  The rooster wasn't crowing. The dog wasn't barking. The horses weren'tneighing. Those were familiar sounds to Father Thrift's ears. And hemissed them.

  He drew a deep breath. The air was sweet with the odor of fir treesand of pine.

  "Ah," he said, "how could I have forgotten that only yesterday I leftthe quaint old town!

  "This, then, is my new home in the forest. It is a glorious home!"