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Updated: June 26, 2025
"I know how I'd feel if I was away from home in a strange country and had nobody but queer people to talk to. We are too old. Even Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes are too old, and Mr. Thimblefinger is too little." "Well, what are we going to do about it?" asked Mr. Rabbit, running his thumb in the bowl of his pipe. "I was just thinking," responded Mrs. Meadows.
Thimblefinger was telling the story of the Strawberry-Girl, Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes had drawn near to listen. Chickamy Crany Crow stood near Mrs. Meadows, and seemed to be very much interested. When Mr. Thimblefinger had concluded, she would have gone away, but Mrs. Meadows detained her. "No," said Mrs.
"What for?" asked Buster John bluntly. "Well, I hardly know," replied Chickamy Crany Crow, somewhat embarrassed at the suddenness of the question. "I wanted to get even with her for stealing my fat chicken. I hardly knew what I was doing, and I certainly didn't know how it would turn out.
I know I never looked like this before, and I hope I never shall again." "Tut, tut!" said Mrs. Meadows; "don't get to mooning around here. You might look better, but you don't look so bad. It will all come right on wash-day, as the woman said when she put her dress on wrong side outwards. Here comes Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes. They'll be glad to see you, no matter how you look."
"'Thanky, granny; that I will, says I. "So I went to the well, but when I came back my chicken was gone. And so was the old woman, and the quagmire. But I didn't get frightened. I went back to the well and began to sing, "'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow, I went to the well to wash my toe, But when I came back my chicken was gone What o'clock, old witch?
Meadows was in a better humor. "This," she said, as the queer-looking girl came forward, "is Chickamy Crany Crow, and this," as the very queer-looking boy came timidly up, "is Tickle-My-Toes." They bowed, and then went off a little way, looking very solemn and comical. They didn't dare glance at each other for fear they would begin laughing again.
"They want everything to happen just so; even a thief must be a big man if he's in a story; but I don't believe anybody ever stole anything yet without getting into trouble about it." "Who is that crying?" Mr. Rabbit suddenly exclaimed. "I hear no crying," said Mrs. Meadows. "I certainly thought I heard crying," persisted Mr. Rabbit. "It is Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes singing. Listen!"
"Well," said Chickamy Crany Crow, "one time there was an old woman that lived near a well. For a long time nobody thought she was a witch, but after a while people began to have their suspicions. There was a quagmire in the road right in front of the old woman's house, and every traveler passing that way was sure to get mud on his feet.
Once more she pulled off the stocking and put it on the other foot, and appeared to be very much astonished because one foot was still bare." "She couldn't 'a' had much sense!" exclaimed Drusilla. "Not about stockings and things like that," said Chickamy Crany Crow.
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