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Blackbird said, Grandfather Mole wouldn't change the time. Everybody knew that he was very stubborn. "A hundred angleworms in the middle of the night wouldn't do me any good," Mr. Blackbird complained. "I'm always asleep at that time." "You'd better change your habits," Grandfather Mole replied. "You ought to be glad to change your hours for sleep, if it would make things easier for you."
Then he flung himself on the grass and burst into tears, kicking over the pail. The angleworms wriggled along till they got to the edge, then quietly took themselves off. David drew a long sigh and folded his hands. "I'm not a bit tired, and I should like to go, Polly," he said. "No, Davie dear," said Polly, kindly, "you'd be tired before you'd gone halfway. And Mamsie wouldn't like it.
I will go with you gladly soon, but I am just concluding a serious meditation. I think that I am near the end of it. Leave me alone, then, for a while. But that we may not be delayed, you shall be digging the bait meanwhile. Angleworms are rarely to be met with in these parts, where the soil was never fattened with manure; the race is nearly extinct.
Too much sun would wither thee, 'Twill shine again. The sky is very black, 'tis true, But just behind it shines the blue." "Oh, yes, you can say that all right," Peace snapped, "cause you ain't just a-dying to get out and dig. Why, Saint Elspeth, the air just fairly smells of angleworms and birds' nests, and I do want to make a garden so bad!"
"I'm sorry that I can't do that," he told her. "You see, I haven't had my breakfast yet. So of course I must catch a few angleworms for myself." Mrs. Robin was a bit disappointed. But she told Grandfather Mole that it was all right that she knew a person of his age ought not to go without his breakfast.
"Farmer Green is good enough to let you live underneath his garden. But instead of showing him that you are grateful you eat all of his angleworms you can." Grandfather Mole was thunderstruck. After pondering over Mr. Blackbird's speech for a few moments he raised his head. "What shall I do?" he asked in a plaintive voice. "I should think you'd turn over a new leaf," Mr.
By daylight in the morning they were clamoring at the door. Never had they caught a hare. Never for a moment did their hopes sink. The men used sometimes to amuse themselves by refusing the requested exit. The little dogs agonized. They leaped and yelped, falling over each other like a tangle of angleworms.
Not every one, of course, would have felt as Grandfather Mole did about angleworms, and grubs and dirt, or dampness, or the dark. Many of his bird neighbors, for instance, liked the same things to eat that he did. But most of them except such odd ones as Solomon Owl, and Mr. Nighthawk, and Willie Whip-poor-will loved the bright sunshine.
Davie's legs aren't so strong as yours, and he's all tired out." "My legs are dreadful strong, Polly," said Joel, well pleased at Polly's words. And he set down his pail of angleworms, and the pole carefully beside it. "See, Polly," and he flopped over suddenly, turning two or three somersaults, to stand still on his head.
He had visited it when Grandfather Mole was away from home, so he knew what it was like. Some of those halls that Mr. Meadow Mouse mentioned ran right out beneath the surface of the garden. Grandfather Mole had dug them for a certain purpose. And when he took an underground stroll he was almost sure to find a few angleworms, which furnished most of his meals.
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