Three Minute Stories. Richards Laura Elizabeth Howe
there first.” And off they went.
They came to Miss Woodchuck’s door and knocked, and she opened the door. “Mercy!” she cried. “Who are you, and what do you want?”
“We are Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Chipmunk,” said the two friends, “and we have come to make you a New Year’s call.”
“More likely you have come to steal the nuts!” said the lady angrily. “I know Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Chipmunk well, and neither of you is either of them. Who ever heard of a long-tailed rabbit or a long-eared squirrel? Get along with you! You are frights, and probably thieves as well.” And she shut the door in their faces.
The two friends walked a little way in silence; then they stopped and looked at each other.
“You said I looked fine!” said the Rabbit.
“I – I meant the tail!” said the Chipmunk. “It is a fine tail. But you said I looked splendid!”
“I was thinking of the ears!” said the Rabbit. “They are splendid ears.”
They walked on until they came once more to the looking-glass pond. They looked at themselves; then they looked at each other; then, all in a minute, off came the long ears and tail.
“There!” cried the Chipmunk. “Now we look as we were meant to look; and I am bound to say, Rabbit, that it is much more becoming to you.”
“So it is to you!” replied the Rabbit. “Now shall we call on Miss Woodchuck again?”
“Come on!” said the Chipmunk.
So they went to Miss Woodchuck’s house, and knocked once more at the door, and Miss Woodchuck opened it. “Oh!” she cried. “Mr. Chipmunk and Mr. Rabbit, how do you do? I am so glad to see you. A happy New Year to you both!”
“The same to you, Ma’am!” said the Rabbit and the Chipmunk.
THE NEWS FROM ANGEL LAND
Oh! Harry Boy and Johnny Boy,
And little Libbety,
They were three happy children
As ever you did see:
One day there came another child;
Oh! he was sweet and small!
And round his cradle quickly came
The other children all.
“Oh! what’s the news from Angel Land,
Baby, Baby?
We think we still might understand,
Maybe, maybe!
Daddies and Mammies long ago
Forgot the things the babies know;
We hardly think we could forget,
And yet – and yet!”
Now Harry’s eyes were diamond dark,
And John’s were starry blue,
And little Libbety was like
A rosebud dipped in dew.
They stood around the cradle white,
With rosy ribbons tied,
They looked into the baby’s face
And earnestly they cried:
“Oh! what’s the news from Angel Land,
Baby, Baby?
We think we still might understand,
Maybe, maybe!
Daddies and Mammies long ago
Forgot the things the babies know;
We hardly think we could forget,
And yet – and yet!”
The baby gravely met the look
Of brown eyes and of blue:
And gravely opened his baby mouth,
And gravely said, “A-Goo!”
Harry and Johnny shook their heads:
“That word’s too deep for me!”
“I think I used to know it, though!”
Said little Libbety.
“But what’s the news from Angel Land,
Baby, Baby?
We think we still might understand,
Maybe, maybe!
Daddies and Mammies long ago
Forgot the things the babies know;
We hardly think we could forget,
And yet – and yet!”
The baby said “A-Goo!” again
With meaning calm and deep:
And then he said, “Ba-be, ba-ba!”
And then he went to sleep.
The children sighed and turned away:
But none of all the three
Guessed, neither John nor Harry Boy,
Nor little Libbety,
He had told the news from Angel Land,
Baby, baby,
He thought that they might understand,
Maybe, maybe.
Daddies and Mammies long ago
Forgot the things the babies know:
The children ought not to forget,
And yet – and yet!
THE BOASTFUL DONKEY
(Adapted)
Once upon a time there was a donkey who lived in a field where there was no pond; so he had never seen his own image, and he thought he was the biggest and strongest and handsomest creature in the world.
One day a lion came through the field, and, being a polite beast, stopped to greet the donkey. “Good morning, friend!” he said. “What a fine day this is!”
“Fine enough, I dare say!” said the donkey. “I never think about the weather. I have other things to think about.”
“Indeed!” said the lion. “May I ask what things?”
“None of your business!” said the donkey rudely; and he set up a loud braying, thinking to frighten the lion away.
“Why do you bray?” asked the lion.
“Bray!” cried the donkey. “That was not braying – it was roaring!”
“If you think I don’t know braying from roaring,” said the lion, still politely, “you are mistaken. That was a bray.”
“Very well!” shouted the donkey. “If that was, this shall not be!” and he uttered a long and loud “Hee-haw!” and kicked up his heels in angry pride. “What do you call that?” he asked proudly.
“I call it a bray,” replied the lion; “and a very ugly one. You see, after all, you are a donkey; look at the length of your ears!”
“How dare you?” cried the donkey. “My ears are the finest in the world, everybody says so. And as for roaring, if I have not scared you yet, just listen to me now!” And flinging up his heels again he bellowed till his own long ears tingled with the sound.
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