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There were no hairbreadth escapes; I was not tackled by bears, treed by wolves, or nearly killed by a hand-to-claw "racket" with a panther; and there were no Indians to come sneak-hunting around after hair. Animal life was abundant, exuberant, even. But the bright-eyed woodfolk seemed tame, nay, almost friendly, and quite intent on minding their own business.
"That's the Tim Tim Tamytam call!" all the wood creatures, said, as they listened. "Tahoo Tahoo Tahoo-hoo-hoo!" And as Tim Tim and Tom Tom listened, they heard away off the answering Tamytam wood-call: "Toowoo-toowoo-tooawoooooo!" sounding like the plaintive notes of the turtle dove but was easily distinguished by any of the woodfolk.
Moseley Sheppard, of Henrico County in Virginia, was one day sitting in his counting-room, two negroes knocked at the door and were let in. They shut the door themselves, and began to unfold an insurrectionary plot, which was subsequently repeated by one of them, named Ben Woodfolk or Woolfolk, in presence of the court, on the fifteenth of the same month.
I've said it forty-'leven times, lest I forget. The message is from Pa Field-Mouse, Squire Cricket, Sir Spider, Daddy Grasshopper, Mr. Hop Toad, and Mr. Jack Rabbit. They bade me say this: "Dr. Grand-daddy Whiskers "We woodfolk are sometimes sick; we need a doctor. We wish our children to have a teacher. They must learn to read and write. Our wives must learn to cook and sew.
So, while she sang and knitted, Tim Tim ran down the tiny path made by the woodfolk, past the bubbling spring and around the bend in the bank of the tumbling brooklet until he came to his home, which was another hole in the trunk of an old tree.
Now Eric crossed to the island where holmgangs are fought to this day, and after him came the two chosen, flourishing their swords bravely, and taking counsel how one should rush at his face, while the other passed behind his back and spitted him, as woodfolk spit a lamb.
So the woodman crept nearer, ventured to kick the bear very gently, ready to run if need be. Surely the bear was dead! And parts of a bear are good to eat, and bearskin to poor woodfolk on cold winter nights is grateful. So the woodman drew his knife and commenced the necessary preliminaries. But the bear was not dead. If the Chinaman be not dead?
"This is a play day, so the kiddies are not in school." "I'm going to the fire," decided Mother Gray-mouse. "Perhaps I can help. Get some buckets, Limpy-toes. I will call Scamper, Buster, Wink, and Wiggle. We cannot let the village burn up." Most of the woodfolk were at the fire. Some poured on pails of water from the Lake; other groups stood talking wildly as they watched the leaping flames.
Nimble-toes sat beside Grand-daddy, so he could talk with him easily, for Grand-daddy's left ear had been torn in a trap and he was somewhat deaf. "Now we are as still as mice," chuckled Grand-daddy. "Speak out, Nimble-toes." "I have a message from our woodfolk, Grand-daddy," began Nimble-toes. "No one could write a letter, so they told me what to say.
Only the smaller woodfolk such as rabbits, squirrels, raccoons, porcupines, and now and then a fox, dared make a closer investigation of the clearing. As for the man himself, he would, if possible, have made a friend of every wild creature who came near his dwelling.
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