THE TALE OF MR. TOD

[For William Francis of Ulva—Someday!]

I have made many books about

well-behaved people. Now, for a

change, I am going to make a story

about two disagreeable people,

called Tommy Brock and Mr. Tod.

Nobody could call Mr. Tod

"nice." The rabbits could not bear

him; they could smell him half a

mile off. He was of a wandering

habit and he had foxy whiskers;

they never knew where he would be

next.

One day he was living in a stick-

house in the coppice [grove], causing

terror to the family of old Mr.

Benjamin Bouncer. Next day he

moved into a pollard willow near

the lake, frightening the wild ducks

and the water rats.

In winter and early spring he

might generally be found in an

earth amongst the rocks at the top

of Bull Banks, under Oatmeal Crag.

He had half a dozen houses, but

he was seldom at home.

The houses were not always

empty when Mr. Tod moved OUT;

because sometimes Tommy Brock

moved IN; (without asking leave).

Tommy Brock was a short bristly

fat waddling person with a grin; he

grinned all over his face. He was

not nice in his habits. He ate wasp

nests and frogs and worms; and he

waddled about by moonlight, digging

things up.

His clothes were very dirty; and

as he slept in the daytime, he

always went to bed in his boots.

And the bed which he went to bed

in was generally Mr. Tod's.

Now Tommy Brock did occasionally

eat rabbit pie; but it was only

very little young ones occasionally,

when other food was really scarce.

He was friendly with old Mr.

Bouncer; they agreed in disliking

the wicked otters and Mr. Tod; they

often talked over that painful subject.

Old Mr. Bouncer was stricken in

years. He sat in the spring sunshine

outside the burrow, in a muffler;

smoking a pipe of rabbit tobacco.

He lived with his son Benjamin

Bunny and his daughter-in-law

Flopsy, who had a young family.

Old Mr. Bouncer was in charge of

the family that afternoon, because

Benjamin and Flopsy had gone out.

The little rabbit babies were just

old enough to open their blue eyes

and kick. They lay in a fluffy bed of

rabbit wool and hay, in a shallow

burrow, separate from the main

rabbit hole. To tell the truth—old

Mr. Bouncer had forgotten them.

He sat in the sun, and conversed

cordially with Tommy Brock, who

was passing through the wood with

a sack and a little spud which he

used for digging, and some mole

traps. He complained bitterly

about the scarcity of pheasants'

eggs, and accused Mr. Tod of

poaching them. And the otters had

cleared off all the frogs while he

was asleep in winter—"I have not

had a good square meal for a fort-

night, I am living on pig-nuts. I

shall have to turn vegetarian and

eat my own tail!" said Tommy

Brock.

It was not much of a joke, but it

tickled old Mr. Bouncer; because

Tommy Brock was so fat and

stumpy and grinning.

So old Mr. Bouncer laughed; and

pressed Tommy Brock to come inside,

to taste a slice of seed cake

and "a glass of my daughter Flopsy's

cowslip wine." Tommy Brock

squeezed himself into the rabbit

hole with alacrity.

Then old Mr. Bouncer smoked

another pipe, and gave Tommy

Brock a cabbage leaf cigar which

was so very strong that it made

Tommy Brock grin more than ever;

and the smoke filled the burrow.

Old Mr. Bouncer coughed and

laughed; and Tommy Brock puffed

and grinned.

And Mr. Bouncer laughed and

coughed, and shut his eyes because

of the cabbage smoke ..........

When Flopsy and Benjamin came

back old Mr. Bouncer woke up.

Tommy Brock and all the young

rabbit babies had disappeared!

Mr. Bouncer would not confess

that he had admitted anybody into

the rabbit hole. But the smell of

badger was undeniable; and there

were round heavy footmarks in the

sand. He was in disgrace; Flopsy

wrung her ears, and slapped him.

Benjamin Bunny set off at once

after Tommy Brock.

There was not much difficulty in

tracking him; he had left his foot-

mark and gone slowly up the winding

footpath through the wood. Here he

had rooted up the moss and wood

sorrel. There he had dug quite a

deep hole for dog darnel; and had

set a mole trap. A little stream

crossed the way. Benjamin skipped

lightly over dry-foot; the badger's

heavy steps showed plainly in the mud.

The path led to a part of the

thicket where the trees had been

cleared; there were leafy oak

stumps, and a sea of blue hyacinths

—but the smell that made Benjamin

stop was NOT the smell of flowers!

Mr. Tod's stick house was before

him; and, for once, Mr. Tod was at

home. There was not only a foxy

flavor in proof of it—there was

smoke coming out of the broken

pail that served as a chimney.

Benjamin Bunny sat up, staring,

his whiskers twitched. Inside the

stick house somebody dropped a

plate, and said something. Benjamin

stamped his foot, and bolted.

He never stopped till he came to

the other side of the wood. Apparently

Tommy Brock had turned the

same way. Upon the top of the wall

there were again the marks of

badger; and some ravellings of a

sack had caught on a briar.

Benjamin climbed over the wall,

into a meadow. He found another

mole trap newly set; he was still

upon the track of Tommy Brock. It

was getting late in the afternoon.

Other rabbits were coming out to

enjoy the evening air. One of them

in a blue coat, by himself, was busily

hunting for dandelions.—

"Cousin Peter! Peter Rabbit, Peter

Rabbit!" shouted Benjamin Bunny.

The blue coated rabbit sat up

with pricked ears—"Whatever is

the matter, Cousin Benjamin? Is it

a cat? or John Stoat Ferret?"

"No, no, no! He's bagged my

family—Tommy Brock—in a sack

—have you seen him?"

"Tommy Brock? how many,

Cousin Benjamin?"

"Seven, Cousin Peter, and all of

them twins! Did he come this way?

Please tell me quick!"

"Yes, yes; not ten minutes since

... he said they were CATERPILLARS;

I did think they were kicking rather

hard, for caterpillars."

"Which way? which way has he

gone, Cousin Peter?"

"He had a sack with something

live in it; I watched him set a mole

trap. Let me use my mind, Cousin

Benjamin; tell me from the beginning,"

Benjamin did so.

"My Uncle Bouncer has displayed

a lamentable want of discretion for

his years;" said Peter reflectively,

"but there are two hopeful

circumstances. Your family is alive and

kicking; and Tommy Brock has had

refreshments. He will probably go

to sleep, and keep them for breakfast."

"Which way?" "Cousin Benjamin,

compose yourself. I know

very well which way. Because Mr.

Tod was at home in the stick house

he has gone to Mr. Tod's other

house, at the top of Bull Banks. I

partly know, because he offered to

leave any message at Sister Cottontail's;

he said he would be passing."

(Cottontail had married a black

rabbit, and gone to live on the hill.)

Peter hid his dandelions, and

accompanied the afflicted parent,

who was all of atwitter. They

crossed several fields and began to

climb the hill; the tracks of Tommy

Brock were plainly to be seen. He

seemed to have put down the sack

every dozen yards, to rest.

"He must be very puffed; we are

close behind him, by the scent.

What a nasty person!" said Peter.

The sunshine was still warm and

slanting on the hill pastures. Half

way up, Cottontail was sitting in

her doorway, with four or five half-

grown little rabbits playing about

her; one black and the others

brown.

Cottontail had seen Tommy

Brock passing in the distance.

Asked whether her husband was at

home she replied that Tommy

Brock had rested twice while she

watched him.

He had nodded, and pointed to

the sack, and seemed doubled up

with laughing.—"Come away,

Peter; he will be cooking them;

come quicker!" said Benjamin

Bunny.

They climbed up and up;—"He

was at home; I saw his black ears

peeping out of the hole." "They live

too near the rocks to quarrel with

their neighbors. Come on, Cousin

Benjamin!"

When they came near the wood

at the top of Bull Banks, they went

cautiously. The trees grew amongst

heaped up rocks; and there,

beneath a crag, Mr. Tod had made

one of his homes. It was at the top

of a steep bank; the rocks and

bushes overhung it. The rabbits

crept up carefully, listening and

peeping.

This house was something between

a cave, a prison, and a tumbledown

pigsty. There was a strong

door, which was shut and locked.

The setting sun made the window

panes glow like red flame; but

the kitchen fire was not alight. It

was neatly laid with dry sticks, as

the rabbits could see, when they

peeped through the window.

Benjamin sighed with relief.

But there were preparations

upon the kitchen table which made

him shudder. There was an immense

empty pie dish of blue willow

pattern, and a large carving

knife and fork, and a chopper.

At the other end of the table was

a partly unfolded tablecloth, a

plate, a tumbler, a knife and fork,

salt cellar, mustard and a chair—

in short, preparations for one

person's supper.

No person was to be seen, and

no young rabbits. The kitchen was

empty and silent; the clock had run

down. Peter and Benjamin flattened

their noses against the window,

and stared into the dusk.

Then they scrambled round the

rocks to the other side of the house.

It was damp and smelly, and over-

grown with thorns and briars.

The rabbits shivered in their

shoes.

"Oh my poor rabbit babies!

What a dreadful place; I shall never

see them again!" sighed Benjamin.

They crept up to the bedroom

window. It was closed and bolted

like the kitchen. But there were

signs that this window had been

recently open; the cobwebs were

disturbed, and there were fresh dirty

footmarks upon the windowsill.

The room inside was so dark that

at first they could make out nothing;

but they could hear a noise—a

slow deep regular snoring grunt.

And as their eyes became accustomed

to the darkness, they perceived

that somebody was asleep

on Mr. Tod's bed, curled up under

the blanket.—"He has gone to bed

in his boots," whispered Peter.

Benjamin, who was all of atwitter,

pulled Peter off the windowsill.