BUDDY JIM

By ELIZABETH GORDON

Pictures by JOHN RAE

Published by
THE P.F. VOLLAND COMPANY
JOLIET, ILLINOIS
NEW YORK BOSTON

Printed in U.S.A.

Twenty-third Edition

Foreword

Out in the Park one day, children, I met a little boy not bigger than you are, who told me that he liked stories about a boy and a dog and the things they did together.

He said that it must be a real boy and a real dog, and there must be other animals in the story, not great, big, fierce ones, but just neighborly ones—animals a boy might, perhaps, meet when he went for walks in the woods—and take pictures of and get to know.

So this is the story of the way a real boy and a real dog spent their first summer in the real country; and the fun they had together.

Buddy Jim and old Dog Sandy are waiting for us over on the front page.

Your very own,
Elizabeth Gordon

They were going to get an early start

LEAVING HOME IN THE CITY

"We're going to the Country,"
Said little Buddy Jim.
And all his little play-mates said,
"How dull 'twill be, for him."
"It's like a great, big, vacant lot,
Just land and air and sky!"
"No boys! No games! Oh dear!" said Jim,
"Don't want to say Goodbye!"

BUT he had to say "Goodbye," because all the other boys' Mothers were calling them in to go to bed, and as Buddy Jim and his family were going to get an early start for their trip to the country in their automobile, there would be no time for saying farewells in the morning.

So all the boys ran home, shouting last messages to Buddy Jim as they went. "Bring us a tame bull-frog," said one, and "I'd like a grey squirrel to keep in a cage," said another.

As Buddy Jim heard the last door close behind the last small boy he felt very lonely indeed; so he sat down on the porch swing to think it over.

He could hear Daddy moving around in the house, getting everything ready for the early morning start, and he knew that it would not be very many minutes before he would be called in to go to bed; and he wanted to get his thinking done first, so he had to do it quickly.

There was one thing that he was very sure of; he did not want to go away and leave all his play-mates behind. "Course," he thought, "there would prob'ly be some fun in the country,"—but he knew that there was loads and loads of it in the city, base ball and three old cat, and swimming in the lake, and chasing butterflies, and working in the school gardens, helping Alex the crippled boy in the wheel chair to train his bull-pups, and "Oh, Goodness' Sakes! So many things! So many int'resting things to do."

"I don't want to go," he murmured aloud. "There'll be no one to play with; three whole months, and no one to play with! Not much fun to think about! I'll prob'ly just fade away and die!" he wailed.

Then somebody laughed, "Ha, ha, ha!" To be sure, it was a queer, squeaky little laugh, and Buddy Jim had never heard anything like it before, but it sounded very jolly.

"Now I wonder," said Buddy Jim, "what that was? It sounded just like somebody laughing! But there's no one here 'cept me."

"Hello, Buddy Jim," said the same squeaky little voice, "Hello! Can't you see me? Here I am, up above you, in the corner of the porch ceiling, hanging on a nail."

Buddy Jim peered up into the darkness above him, and sure enough he saw a funny, fussy little body, hanging head downward, so that a pair of little eyes, in a funny little fox-like face, were laughing down at him.

"Why!" said Buddy Jim in surprise, "Why! Who are you?"

"I? Oh! I'm just Reddy Bat, and when I heard you say that you were sad because you were going to the Country to live this summer, I just couldn't help laughing. I just laughed right out loud! Why, I'd almost give my right wing to go to the Country to live."

"Then why don't you?" asked Buddy Jim. It's "not very far." "Can't" said Reddy Bat, "Can't, I've got a family to support. Can't afford to leave these good hunting grounds just for the pleasure of living in the country."

"What do you hunt, here?" asked Buddy Jim, politely.

"Oh, flies and mosquitoes, and dragon flies, and bugs of all sorts," said Reddy Bat. "Don't you ever hear us swooping around after dark?"

"Now I come to think of it," said Buddy Jim, "I think I have. But I thought you were some night bird. Anyway, do you really think there will be any fun in the Country?"

"There will be if you make it," said Reddy Bat, "there never is any fun anywhere unless one makes it for himself. But I could have a good time there. I've some cousins who live there, and if you happen to meet them, just give them my best wishes, will you, like a good chap?"

"Why yes, I certainly will," said Buddy Jim, "if I see them," he added. "But maybe I won't see them! I've never seen you before in all my life until now, you know."

Reddy Bat laughed again. "I know it," he said, "and I live right here on your front lawn, in your own oak trees, and bring my family out for supper and exercise every evening."

"Where do you leave your children when you come out?"

"Leave the children!" said Reddy Bat in surprise. "Leave the precious children! Why, we wouldn't think of such a thing. Mrs. Reddy Bat always takes our children with her when we leave home. Why we would not have an easy moment all the time we were away if we left them at home!"

"I think you are very tender-hearted," said Buddy Jim. "Most folks say the Bats are ugly and not friendly." "Well," said Reddy Bat, "I know we are not very beautiful to look at, but I suppose we are very much like other people; we try to defend ourselves when we are molested. But if people treat us kindly, we treat them kindly."

"But, Reddy Bat," said Buddy Jim, "tell me what fun is there in the Country?"

"You'll see," laughed Reddy Bat, "living in the Country will make your eyes open wide so that you can see! And now Goodnight and Goodbye, Buddy Jim. It's time for me to go to work and for you to go to bed." And Reddy Bat unhooked the tip of his wing from the nail in the corner of the porch roof, and flew past Buddy with a laugh and a whizz and was gone!

Buddy Jim sat up and looked after him. He felt much happier! Just then Daddy called, "Bedtime, Son!"

"Dad," said the little boy, "I b'lieve I'm going to like living in the Country, after all!"

"Sure to, Son," said Daddy, and they gravely shook hands on it.

BUDDY JIM, OLD RED SQUIRREL AND THE ROBIN BIRD

The summer shower had scurried by
And left the world all new;
And the fleecy clouds were floating
In a sky of clearest blue;
The plants were all so grateful
You could almost see them grow;
Said Buddy Jim, "The Country is
The nicest place I know!"

BUDDY JIM was in the hammock on the porch with a book. But he had not been reading. It was much more fun to watch the zigzag streaks of lightning flash across the world, and to see the tall trees bend and sway in the wind, and to hear the big boom of the thunder-bird's wings. It was all so different from a shower in the city, when you had to rush and close all the windows, and stay indoors until it was over.

Buddy Jim laughed to himself when he thought about how much he had disliked to leave the city, and come to his Father's farm for the summer. His Father had bought it just so that they could have a summer home where the little boy could run and play and be interested. "I 'xpected to be lonesome," said he to himself, "but I'm not. I've never had so much fun before in my life!" And he settled back in the hammock to read his new book.

But he had hardly begun to read, when he sat up with a start. There was a great chattering and scolding from the branches of an old elm tree on the front lawn. And there was a cry that sounded to Buddy Jim like a call for help, so he threw his book aside and running out to the old elm tree peered up into its leafy branches.

Old Dog Sandy got up from the porch steps, shook the rain drops from his shaggy coat, and followed his master.

But the leaves of the old elm tree were very thick and they could see nothing, though the chattering and scolding and calls for help were still going on.

"Sounds as though old Red Squirrel was trying to help himself to Mrs. Robin Redbreast's eggs," said Old Bob the gardener, as he came by.

"Is that what it is?" said Buddy Jim. "Well, you watch me! I'm going up there and spoil that old fellow's game."

"I'll give you a boost, if you're going up," said Old Bob the gardener. "You'll get there quicker." And he swung Buddy Jim up to his shoulders. From there Buddy Jim could reach up and catch the lower branches of the old elm, and so clinging with his bare brown feet like a regular little monkey, he was soon in sight of Mrs. Robin Redbreast's nest.

It was just as Old Bob the gardener had suspected. There was old Red Squirrel chattering and scolding at poor Mrs. Robin, doing his best to chase her away from her nest; and she, poor brave little Mother bird, was sticking tight and refusing to leave her precious blue eggs.

When old Red Squirrel saw Buddy Jim he knew his game was up, and so he turned and ran, like the coward he was, past Buddy Jim, and down the trunk of the old elm tree.

Old Dog Sandy doesn't like Cats!

Of course he did not know that old Dog Sandy was waiting there for him, and he ran right into him! If old Dog Sandy had been young Dog Sandy it would have gone hard with old Red Squirrel. But even if old Dog Sandy could not catch him, he could chase him away and that is just what he did, barking so loudly it gave him a very good scare anyway, so that he made up his robber mind that he would keep away from that place in the future!

Up in the elm tree poor little Mother Robin was trembling all over. "I thought you never would come, Buddy Jim," she said. "And then I thought perhaps you were one of those boys who don't care much what becomes of birds."

"Indeed I am not," said Buddy Jim. "I care very much for birds, indeed I do, but you see I'm just out from the city, and I did not know what your call for help meant. I don't know much about Country life yet. Does old Red Squirrel bother you much?"

"I should say he does," said Mother Robin. "If he can only find out when Father Robin is away after worms for my dinner, he is sure to come and try to frighten me away so that he can have a chance to eat my beautiful blue eggs for his dinner. He is a dreadful pest. Between him and Peter Prowler the Cat, who is very likely to catch my babies before they are big enough to fly, it's a wonder I am ever able to bring up a family."

"Well, little Mother Robin," said Buddy Jim, "you can be quiet now, and forget all about it. Old Dog Sandy will be sure to see that Peter Prowler does not come around here. He doesn't like cats. And I'm going to live here all summer, and I'll see that old Red Squirrel keeps away. Goodbye, little Mother bird." And Buddy Jim slid back down the old elm tree, and found old Dog Sandy just coming back from his long chase after old Red Squirrel.

"Sandy," said Buddy Jim, "If you happen to see Peter Prowler the cat around here after Mrs. Robin's babies, I want you to chase him away. Do you hear?"

"Woof, woof!" promised Old Dog Sandy. And he kept his word, and so after awhile there were four very fat, speckly young robin birds running around the lawn, and they got so tame they would hop right up on the swing and chatter to Buddy Jim.

Buddy Jim loved to look at his Mother.

BUDDY JIM AND THE PIN-CUSHIONY PERSON

"The Strawberries are ripening,"
Old Bob the gardener said,
"And I must thin the beets next week,
They're crowded in their bed;
So I shall go to town today,
While there's not much to do;"
"O dear, O dear," said Buddy Jim
"I wish I might go too!"

FOR Buddy Jim knew that he was going to have a very lonely day! There was no doubt about it. He liked well enough being in the country, when he could tramp about after Old Bob the gardener, and plant things, and pull up other things, and learn the name of every thing and the reason for it.

Old Bob the gardener said every day that he had never before seen a "city chap" who learned so easily to tell the weeds from the plants, and who knew just which things to take from the garden to feed to his pet rabbits.

But Old Bob the gardener was going to town for a whole long day! And there was nothing to do; and even if there had been anything to do, there was nobody to do it with; and he was just plain lonesome; but he s'posed he'd have to feed his rabbits; so he started to the garden for some weeds.

Just then Mother called: "Buddy Jim! Are you there?" "Yes, Mother," said Buddy Jim, running back to the porch where Mother was standing in her pretty, cool-looking pink dress, with her hair blowing in little curls around her face.

Buddy Jim loved to look at his Mother. She was so pretty!

"Buddy," said his Mother, "do you think you could go down to the edge of the Fir thicket and get me some more Fir tips for the Porch pillows?"

"Why, yes, Mother, of course I can, and I will, too, just as soon as I have fed my rabbits," said Buddy Jim.

"That's a good son," said Mother, "and you'd better go around to the kitchen and ask Mary the maid for a basket and some blunt-pointed scissors. And be careful about poison ivy, son; there's a bunch of it down near the edge of the Fir thicket that Bob the gardener has not had time to destroy."

"Don't worry, Mother," said Buddy Jim, "I know that stuff when I see it, and I'll be sure to keep away from it." And the little boy whistled to Old Dog Sandy to come along, happy that he had found something to do.

It was lots of fun running across the fields to the woods. The grass was long and wet with the dew of the morning, and it curled around Buddy Jim's little bare legs just as though it loved to have little bare-legged boys wade through it. Old Dog Sandy thought it was wonderful to chase the big gray Grasshoppers that flew up in all directions, with a ch-r-r-r, that sounded just like a pin-wheel on the Fourth of July.

Pretty soon they came to the Fir thicket, where all the young Fir trees were standing like tall young ladies in pale green dresses ready to go to church on a Sunday morning.

Buddy began carefully to cut off the pale green tips of the boughs as his Mother had shown him, while Old Dog Sandy roamed through the bushes amusing himself.

Buddy Jim's basket was almost full of the fragrant Fir tips, and he was just going to whistle for Old Dog Sandy, to come home with him, when there was a dreadful commotion from inside of the Fir thicket. It was Old Dog Sandy barking for all he was worth, in a way that Buddy knew meant, "Come here, quickly, and see what I've found!"

So Buddy Jim put his basket down and ran into the Fir thicket, where he found Old Dog Sandy doing his best to climb an old dead Fir tree, which was much taller than the rest of the trees, at the same time barking his very fiercest at something that was perched up on a limb of the tree. Something that was very much alive, and looked like a big round pin-cushion stuck full of pins, points up.

"Hello!" said Buddy Jim, "What's the matter here?" "Matter enough, I should say," chattered a very indignant little voice, "and you'd better call off that foolish old dog of yours if you want to save him trouble. He'll be a sorry dog if he bites me!"

"Don't be afraid of Sandy," said Buddy Jim. "He is an old dog. I've had him always, and his bark is worse than his bite; besides, he can't climb a tree anyway; he just thinks he can!"

The round Pin-cushiony Person in the tree just laughed. "Bless your heart," he said, "I'm not afraid of Old Dog Sandy; I'm just being polite to him because he's a City dog and doesn't know any better than to try to bite me; any country dog would know better."

"You go outside and lie down, Sandy," said Buddy Jim, and when the old dog had gone, growling deep down in his throat because he did not want to go, he turned to the Pin-cushiony Person and said, "Now tell me what your name is and why Sandy would be a sorry dog if he should bite you."

"You must have read about me in books," said the Pin-cushiony Person, "and if you would think a bit you would know that my name is Prickly Porcupine. My pins are stuck in very loosely, so if a dog bites me he gets something to remember me by. He gets a mouthful of pins that do not come out very easily and I don't get hurt very much. Sometimes, just for fun, I let one start to bite me, and just as he thinks he has me I hit him in the mouth with my tail, and he goes home in a hurry to ask his master to pull my pins out!"

"I don't call that being very friendly," said Buddy Jim. "It isn't very friendly for dogs to try to bite me, either, just because they're bigger than I am," said the Pin-cushiony Person. "Mother Nature made me the way I am, so I'd have some way of defending myself. I'm so fat, and my legs are so short that I do not run very well, and besides, I don't feel like running away from my enemies."

"Well, I don't blame you for that," said Buddy Jim. "Nobody likes to run, even if the other fellow is the biggest. I don't! I know just how you feel about that. But do tell me. What do you do all the time? Do you live all alone?"

"Not all the time," answered the Pin-cushiony Person, "I have a family; but we are rather independent people and like to be alone. Days I sleep mostly, unless I am disturbed, as I was by your Old Dog Sandy just now, and nights I go out for food."

"What do you eat?" asked Buddy Jim. "I'm almost afraid to tell you," said the Pin-cushiony Person, "for fear that you'll tell old Bob the gardener, but I live in this Fir thicket because it is so near to the farm of your Father."

"Why should Bob the gardener care?" asked Buddy Jim. "Well you see," said the Pin-cushiony Person, "I go out at night and I nibble a bit here, and a bit there, from old Bob's garden, and I know how very particular he is about his garden and so I know if he ever catches me at it I shall be driven away from the Fir thicket."

"Do people hunt you much?" asked Buddy Jim. "Not very much nowadays" answered the Pin-cushiony Person, "but I've heard old Grandfather Porcupine tell stories to the Young Ones. He said his Grandfather had told him about the times when the Red Men lived in the forests, and used to hunt our people with bows and arrows. And how the Red Women used to cook us to feed their children, and to use our quills that Mother Nature had given us to defend ourselves with to trim their dresses and moccasins." "But those dreadful days are all over," he went on, "and now about all we have to fear are the eagles and the larger animals." "Aren't they afraid of your sharp pins?" asked Buddy Jim. "Some of them are, after they get one mouthful," answered the Pin-cushiony Person, "but Old Man Fisher is always hungry and willing to take a chance of getting stuck full of pins. But if you don't mind, Buddy Jim, I'm a bit sleepy—it always makes me drowsy to talk—so I'll say Goodbye and just turn over and have my nap out."

"Goodbye, old Mr. Porcupine," said Buddy Jim, "and good luck to you." And he picked up his basket of Fir tips and whistled to Old Dog Sandy, who was still growling.

"Old Dog Sandy and I ran on to Old Prickly Porcupine down in the Fir thicket today," said Buddy Jim to Old Bob the gardener, that night. "And Old Dog Sandy wanted to bite him."

"He would have been a sorry old dog if he had," said Old Bob the gardener.

But Old Dog Sandy just opened one eye, and tapped the ground with his tail.

He was thinking that some day when there was nobody looking, he was going back to that Fir thicket alone! And he was going to show that old Pin-cushiony Person!

They were very pretty little Neighbors

BUDDY JIM GOES SWIMMING AND MEETS A QUEER LITTLE NEIGHBOR

The sun came climbing up the hills
As red as red could be,
And not a leaf was moving on
Any shrub or tree;
The little birds forgot to sing,
The winds forgot to roam;
"There's nothing to do," said Buddy Jim,
"But stay around at home."

JUST then Old Bob the gardener came along, mopping his brow with his old, red bandana handkerchief which he wore tied around his neck, like a cowboy in a wild west movie.

"O Bob," said Buddy Jim, "Isn't it hot? I don't feel as though I'd ever be cool again!"

"It is, so," said Old Bob the gardener, "for the last week in June, it is about as hot as I've ever seen it; you look a bit peaked, Son, seems to me," said he, sympathetically, "has the heat got hold of you?"

"Oh, I don't think so, Bob," said the little fellow. "But it just seems as though there were not a thing in the world to do!"

"Old Dog Sandy seems a bit tuckered out, too," said Old Bob the gardener. Old Dog Sandy, stretched out flat under a lilac bush, didn't bother to open his eyes. He just thumped the ground feebly with his tail. It was too hot to move, if one didn't have to, but one must always be polite!

"Now let's see," said Old Bob the gardener, "there should be something that a boy could do on a hot day, and get some fun out of it? Can you swim?"

"Some," said Buddy Jim. "I learned in the pool at the gymnasium, at home—I mean in the city."

"Pool!" said Old Bob the gardener, contemptuously, "run and get your bathing suit and I'll take you down to the old swimming hole, where I used to swim when I was your age, and where I've been swimming every year since! I think I would enjoy a swim myself, this morning," he added. Buddy Jim forgot all about the weather, but went tearing like a small whirl-wind to Mother, asking where was his bathing suit, and hopping excitedly around until she had found it. He was so enthusiastic that he could hardly wait until Old Bob the gardener had found his own suit and was ready to go. Even Old Dog Sandy waked up and decided to go along, and it was a happy little procession which went, Indian file, along the narrow path which led through the alder bushes to the swimming hole.

Someone who loved boys must have made that swimming hole. The sand had been scooped out from the bed of the brook, and used to make a fine, wide beach; the brook had been made deeper and wider, and a big old tree had been felled in just the right place for a clean, high dive. The alders grew thickly around the beach, and made the nicest dressing room imaginable, and very soon, all three, the old man, the little boy, and the old dog were splashing happily around in the cool water.

Old Bob the gardener taught Buddy Jim many things that he had not learned at the gymnasium; how to tread water like a dog, how to keep his eyes open under water, and how to lie on his back and just float; it was great fun, and they were soon as cool as though jolly old Mr. Sun had not tried to see how hot he could make a day in June.

After awhile Old Bob the gardener said that they had been in the water long enough for one day, and that he had some work to do, and must go back, but Buddy Jim said that he was going to stay and lie on the beach for a while; it was cooler there.

Old Bob the gardener said, all right, if he wouldn't go in the water alone, because he couldn't yet swim well enough to go in alone, and Buddy Jim promised that he would not. Old Bob knew that when Buddy said he would do a thing, that it was just as good as done, because he was very careful to always keep his word. Mother said that a real man always did. And Buddy Jim meant to be a real man.

It was so cool and comfy there under the alder bushes that Buddy Jim fell fast asleep, and then he was aware of voices, and that Old Dog Sandy was grumbling and complaining that "a fellow never could get forty winks, but that someone had to chatter and wake him up."

"Lie down, Sandy," whispered Buddy Jim, "and keep quiet." The old dog obeyed, though he did not want to, and Buddy Jim crawled quietly over towards the voices and lay very still until they began again.

"I saw it first," said a queer lispy little voice. It was not a very good-natured sounding voice either.

"Why the very idea," said a calm, quiet, little voice, "how can you say so, when we were already here when you arrived? We saw it first, and we intend to keep it; isn't that so, Brother?"

"Of course," answered another little voice, "that's what we intend to do. You go and find another nest if you are hungry."

"No, no," lisped the first voice, "this nest is mine and I'm going to have it."

"Well now, Mrs. Garter Snake," said the first little voice, "you know well enough it's no good wrangling; we are not going to give up our rights to you; finding's keepings; anyway Mrs. Snapping Turtle lays so many eggs that very likely there will be some left, after we have had enough, and we don't mind sharing them with you; you are quite welcome to what we cannot use."

"All right," said Mrs. Garter Snake, "go on and dig them out, then, because I want to get back home to my children."

Buddy Jim crawled a bit nearer to see if he could discover who the little neighbors were who were not a bit afraid of Mrs. Garter Snake.

They were very pretty Little Neighbors indeed, in cool-looking black-and-white suits and they were as frisky as kittens. It was only the work of a moment for them to dig open Mrs. Snapping Turtle's nest in the sand, where she had trustingly laid her eggs to be hatched out by kind Mr. Sun while she was cool and happy in the bed of the brook, or swam around catching frogs for her dinner.

It did not take them long to eat their lunch, either, and when they were no longer hungry, they ran away together, laughing, leaving what was left of the eggs to Mrs. Garter Snake, who immediately ate them and then rustled away out of sight among the bushes.

"I guess that's the last of Mrs. Snapping Turtle's children," said Buddy Jim as he dressed, "it does seem too bad, that her eggs are all lost, but she could not expect anything else to happen. Let's go, Sandy," he called to the old dog.

Old Dog Sandy made believe that he didn't hear; he knew that the Little Neighbors must live somewhere near, and he wished very much to call on them; they had spoiled his nap, and he wanted to give them a chance to apologize.

"Come along, Sandy," said his little master, who knew his tricks, "I know what you want to do; you want to find our Little Neighbors, and you know I do not allow that!"

After lunch Buddy Jim went out to the tool house to find Old Bob the gardener. "Feel better, Son?" asked the old man kindly. "I feel fine, Bob, thank you," said the little fellow, "but I want to ask you something. Who were the Little Neighbors that I saw digging Mrs. Snapping Turtle's eggs out of the sand this morning? They were black and white and looked something like Peter the Prowler, only much prettier. Old Dog Sandy wanted to go after them," he added, "but I made him keep away."

Old Bob the gardener laughed. "It's a good thing for him that you did," said he, "and for all the rest of us, too; that was Brother and Sister Skunk!"

"Why is it a good thing, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "They were just as good-natured as could be, and generous also; they let Mrs. Garter Snake have part of the eggs."

"O yes, they're generous," said Old Bob the gardener, "and easy to get along with, too, if you let them alone; I hope Old Dog Sandy was not enough interested in them to go back and try to find them, because, in the matter of perfume, now, they're more than generous."

"O yes," said Buddy Jim, laughing, "Now I remember!"

But Old Dog Sandy didn't remember; he just couldn't forget; and he told himself that he knew the way back there, and that no black-and-white kitteny looking things like that could wake him up without explaining why; and some day,—well they'd see.

I don't see any Joke"

BUDDY JIM GOES FISHING

The Bob-o-link was whistling
His merry-hearted song,
To tell his name, and the wondrous news
His babes would fly 'fore long;
"I'd like," said Buddy Jim "to go
A-fishing in the brook,
The day is fine and all I need
Is a rod, and line, and hook."

LOOK in the upper left hand drawer of my work table in the tool house," said Old Bob the gardener, "and you will find a line and hooks. You can cut yourself an alder pole for a rod."

When Buddy Jim had found the tackle and had cut the alder sapling for a rod, he took them to Old Bob the gardener and asked him to help him put them together.

"These have not been used," said Bob, "since my small city cousin was down here a few summers ago."

"Did he catch any trout in the brook?" asked Buddy Jim. "No, he didn't," said Bob, "he claimed something always chased the fish away. But there's nothing in the brook except some little spotted trout, anyway."

"What bait shall I use?" asked Buddy Jim. "Angleworms," said Old Bob the gardener, "if old Robin Red Breast has left any. He has fed at least a dozen to that fat child of his since morning."

"I believe he hears them walk," laughed Buddy Jim. "Just look at him with his head on one side listening. If I were an angleworm, I would not even wiggle while he was around."

"Well," said Old Bob, the gardener, "I suppose they are his meat."

"Prob'ly," said Buddy Jim. "But he must spare me a few for bait. I'll get mine in the back yard, though, because I make bigger holes getting them out than father Robin does."

It was very still and pleasant down by the brook, under the alder trees.

There was no living thing in sight, except a whole family of Snapping turtles, asleep on a log which had fallen partly across the brook at the deepest place.

Buddy Jim baited his hook. Then he cast it far into the deep shadows under a big rock, and waited. He waited a long time. Then just as he was sure he felt a nibble, the tiniest turtle jumped "pl-o-o-m-p!" into the water.

"O dear!" said Buddy Jim. "That scared away my fish!" He pulled in his line, and found that his bait was gone. So he put on some more, and tried again.

Then just as he was certain sure that he felt a nibble, "pl-o-o-m-p!" went the next smallest turtle.

Patiently, Buddy Jim put on more bait, and tried again. But just as he knew he had a bite "pl-o-o-m-p!" went the third turtle into the water. Once more he tried, and again the same thing happened. Until there were only the father and mother turtle left on the log.

"I'm going to drive those two old turtles away," said Buddy Jim. So he threw a stone and hit the log, but the father turtle and the mother turtle did not stir. "They are sound asleep," said Buddy Jim, "I'll try again." So he did. But just as he was sure he had a nibble, both those old turtles woke up and jumped "Ker-plunk!" into the water. "Now," said Buddy Jim, "they are all gone, and this time I'll catch that old trout."

But just as he got his bait on the hook, there were all those meddlesome turtles back on the log, looking as though they would never wake up in the world.

"O, what a joke! O, what a joke. Ha Ha Ha-a," cried a voice very near. Buddy Jim looked up. There was Old Jim Crow, on an old hemlock stump, dancing with glee, and nearly doubling up laughing.

"I don't see any joke," said Buddy Jim.

"That's always the way with folks when the joke is on them," gurgled Old Jim Crow; "they never can see it. The joke is on you today, instead of on Old Man Kingfisher."

"Do you mean to say those turtles jumped in the water just to warn the fish?" asked Buddy Jim, his eyes wide open.

"Certainly they did," said Old Jim Crow, "that's their regular job. There are always some of Spotty the Trout's young ones, who don't know any better than to nibble at hooks, and go near enough shore so they can be caught by prowlers. So they must be looked after."

"Who tries to catch them?" asked Buddy Jim. "Well," said Jim Crow, "Old Man Kingfisher is about the worst one, and then there is Slinky Minky, and always, of course, boys, like you, who come fishing just for fun. Not because they need fish to eat at all, but just for fun." Buddy Jim somehow felt very small, and ashamed of himself. "Fun!" went on Old Jim Crow. "Destroying a beautiful bit of life just for fun. And you look like a nice boy, too."

"I am a nice boy," said Buddy Jim. "Nobody ever told me that it's wrong to catch fish." "It isn't," said Old Jim Crow, "if you need them to eat. But it would take six of Spotty's babies to make a mouthful."

"Well, I may as well go home," said Buddy Jim. "Old Bob the gardener will laugh at my empty basket."

"Fill it full of wintergreen berries," said Old Jim Crow. "They are just scrumptious now. Fat and mealy!"

So Buddy Jim lined his basket with fresh green leaves, and then gathered enough of the spicy crimson berries to fill it.

"Any luck, Son?" asked Old Bob the gardener, "Well," said Buddy Jim, "I had several nibbles, but the turtles kept jumping off a log and frightening the fish away."

"Same old trick," said Bob the gardener. "They've been doing that ever since I was your age. But I'll take you down to Long Lake some day next week, and let you catch some real fish. Perch and Pickerel and, like enough, an eel."

"O Goody, Goody!" said the little boy. "Have some berries, Bob?" "Iv'ry Plums," said Old Bob the gardener.

"I thought they were wintergreen berries," said Buddy Jim. "Some folks call 'em that," said Old Bob the gardener. "But we always called 'em iv'ry plums. See any one else down to the brook?" he asked.

"Nobody but Old Jim Crow," said Buddy Jim. "He prob'ly had one eye on Mrs. Snapping Turtle, hoping to find her nest full of eggs," said Bob the gardener.

Buddy Jim, opened his eyes wide. "Do turtles lay eggs?" he asked. "Sure," said Old Bob the gardener. "In the sand."

"And he looked like such a nice Crow, too," said Buddy Jim.

BUDDY JIM AND THE HOUSE MICE

The new moon up above the world
Looked like a silver boat
That some wee playmate of the sky
Had launched and left to float;
The night winds all went laughing by
To drive the heat away;
"Almost I think," said Buddy Jim,
"I like night more than day!"

THAT settles it, then," said a tiny, squeaky little voice from the corner of the sleeping porch where Buddy was cosily tucked in bed, "that settles it! He likes night better than day; so, just as likely as not, he will stay awake all night to enjoy himself, or anyway so long that we shall get no supper at all! And the whole family so hungry, too!"

"Now be patient, little sister," said another little voice. "That is not a grown-up person, there in the bed,—that's a boy, and boys never stay awake very long. It won't hurt us to wait a bit for our supper. My!" he went on in a lower tone, "I think he has heard us, but never mind, sister, we both know the way out, and there isn't a bit of danger."

Buddy had heard the voices and, always interested in his Little Neighbors, he sat up in bed and peered into the corner of the porch in the direction of the voices—of course he could not see a thing, but he knew that someone must be there.

So he called very softly, "Who are you, Little Neighbors?"

Old Bob was outside

"I'm just Buddy Jim and I won't harm you—you must have heard of me—I live here in this house."

"Oh," cried both little voices in a relieved tone, "You don't know what a load you have taken off our minds! Why of course we have heard of you. Mrs. Harvest Mouse says that you really saved the lives of her whole family the day Red-Headed Woodpecker came to collect the rent. But you see that was different. She was in her own house and we are in yours, and for some reason we have never been able to find out, people dislike to have us come in their houses."

"They set traps for us," said Little Sister Mouse, "and kill us—and we are no good to them—our fur is so soft that it is useless—and then the cats! Why! we are in constant fear of their dreadful claws!"

"Yes indeed," said Brother Mouse, "we never came in this house until Old Dog Sandy came here to live and made Peter Prowler live under the barn."

"In that case," said Buddy, "I can not imagine why you go into people's houses. I would certainly not go where I was not welcome."

"Why, dear me," said Brother Mouse, "we're House Mice—we always live in houses. We don't know why, we just know it's so! and we're no trouble to any one; we take only the tiniest crumbs of food, when Mary the cook leaves us anything at all—she doesn't often—and the children are so hungry and Mother hasn't a bit of anything in the nest to give them." "And they're hungry," chimed in little Sister House Mouse.

"What would you like for their supper, and yours too?" asked Buddy, "because I think I can get you something, and if you will promise not to go into the kitchen again I will promise to leave your supper wherever you say every evening this summer. Will you promise?"

"Will we?" choroused the little Mice, "we certainly will! Honest 'n true 'n black and blue."

"Well, then," said Buddy, "just you wait right where you are—" and he slipped out of bed and ran to the kitchen.

He was back in almost no time at all, with some bread and some bits of cheese and a cookie, which he broke into bits and placed on the porch floor, and then, just to show the little neighbors that he meant to play fair, he hopped back into bed again.

It just did his kind little heart good to hear the delighted squeals of the Little Neighbors when they found the food. He smiled to himself as he heard them scamper away with as much as they could carry. It was only a moment until they were back again, and this time they stayed to eat their own supper.

"Mum, mum," said Sister Mouse with her mouth full of food, "Mary is a wonderful cook!"

"Where do you live, Little Neighbors," asked Buddy, "so I shall know where to leave your food every day."

"Up in the woodshed loft," said Brother Mouse. "We like it there, because there is always moss and shavings to make warm nests of; and sometimes Bob the gardener leaves an old coat there for us to chew up and line our nests with. But we must go home now and let you go to sleep, because you must be very sleepy."

"No indeed," said Buddy, "I'm really not sleepy at all, and I've loved to have you visit me!"

"We are so grateful to you," said Brother House Mouse, "and we both wish we could do something for you. Would you care to hear us sing, so long as you're not so very sleepy?"

Buddy laughed. "That would be lovely," he said. "Just like little Tommy Tucker, who sang for his supper. But can you sing? Let's hear you," he invited, eagerly.

There was a soft little scrambling sound, and then, in the moonlight, Buddy saw on his bed rail two grey Little Neighbors. It was Brother Mouse, holding Sister Mouse by the hand. They were bowing and looking for all the world like the two little concert singers that they were.

They made no excuses, they did not even say they were out of practice, nor that they couldn't think what to sing, but began in the sweetest of small voices to sing what sounded to Buddy like a little lullaby.

Buddy lay very still. He was delighted with the song, but he did not dare to applaud, because he was afraid that his Little Neighbors would not understand. Not being much used to singing to mortals, they might be frightened at the noise.

But what do you think? Before he even knew that he was sleepy, and while he was enjoying the concert, he went fast asleep.

And the next thing he knew, Old Bob the gardener was outside, wanting to know if he meant to stay in bed all day.

"Bob," said Buddy, "have you ever heard a House Mouse sing?" "No, Buddy," said Old Bob the gardener, "I never have, but I have talked with folks who say they have heard them."

"Well, Bob," insisted the little boy, "do you believe they can sing?"

"Why, yes, Buddy," said Old Bob the gardener, "I believe everything until I find out for certain that it isn't so. It's much the happiest way, don't you think?"

"Your ways are all happy ways, Bob," said Buddy. "You're the best chum ever!"

[Listen]

I didn't look behind me"

BUDDY JIM SEES MADAME MINK

'Twas a misty, moisty morning
And the big clouds overhead
Looked like balloons all weighted down
With tons and tons of lead,
The trees held up their dusty leaves
For a freshening drink of rain,
"It's plain to see," said Buddy Jim,
"It's going to rain again."

EVEN Robin Redbreast knew it, and sang his "cheer up" song from the topmost bough of the old elm tree, as much as to say, "What's a little wetting, anyway?" And the chickens knew it and went singing dolefully about because they didn't like wet weather; and Mother Duck and her twelve yellow ducklings knew it, and went about quacking merrily and looking happy because they did like it; and Buddy Jim knew it and didn't care either way; he liked the rain or he liked the shine. But first, he thought he would go and see what Old Bob the Gardener was doing.

He found Bob in the tool house, reeling up some fascinating-looking fishing lines.

Old Bob looked up as Buddy Jim entered, smiling in his cheery way, and the little boy thought that as long as Bob smiled that way he didn't care how much it rained.

"Like to go fishing with me, over to Long Lake, Son?" asked Bob. "I promised you I'd take you fishing some day, and this is going to be a good day for the fish to rise."

"Would I?" said Buddy Jim. "Thanks for asking me, Bob, and I'll be ready in no time."

"Be ready in half an hour from now," said Old Bob the Gardener, "and ask Mary the cook to put us up some lunch, because we shall be gone all day. I'll go and harness old Maud."

By the time that Old Bob the gardener was at the door with Maud and the buggy, Buddy Jim was ready.

He looked exactly like a little fisherman in his yellow slicker, and long rubber boots, with his old felt hat turned down. Mother laughed as she kissed him "goodbye" and wished him luck.

It was great fun riding along the road through the woods, and listening to the rain falling on the leaves. But there wasn't a thing in sight except a flock of crows.

"Have you aways lived around here, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim.

"Sure," said Old Bob the gardener, "ever since I was a baby; right over in that field yonder was where I used to go to school; the school house is gone now, and there's nothing left to mark the place except a clump of lilac bushes that I helped the teacher to set out one spring day, when I wasn't a mite bigger than you are now."

"I remember that day well," he went on. "I was late getting the bushes planted and so I took a short cut through these woods and just as I got about where we are now, who should come from behind a big hemlock tree but old lady Black Bear, thin as a rail from her long winter sleep, and looking hungry."

"My!" said Buddy Jim, his eyes wide open. "What did you do?"

"I'm afraid I was rude to the lady," said Old Bob, "because I did not even wish her 'good evening,'—I ran for home just as fast as my legs could carry me."

"Did she run after you?" breathlessly asked Buddy Jim.

The old man laughed. "I couldn't truthfully say," said he, "I didn't look behind me."

"I think I should have done the same thing," said Buddy Jim.

"And I wouldn't blame you, Son," said Old Bob the gardener, "but here we are, hook, line, and sinker, and we will soon find out if Mr. and Mrs. Perch are at home."

As soon as old Maud was hobbled and turned loose to graze, Buddy Jim and Old Bob the gardener launched the old flat-bottomed boat at the landing, and began fishing.

Bob "baited" the hooks, and they both cast off. Old Bob the gardener caught the first fish, a beautiful big perch, and in no time at all Buddy Jim had one also.

It was such good fishing that they soon had all they wanted, and Old Bob the gardener said that they would go ashore now. But Buddy Jim begged so hard for just one more cast that Old Bob said, "all right," and stooped to put the fish in the basket.

A startled exclamation from Buddy Jim made him turn, just in time to catch the little chap as he was going head first out of the boat.

"Here, Son," said the old man as he pulled him back into the boat, "aren't you wet enough yet?"

"O, Bob," panted the little fellow, "I've got a bite—and I think it's a whale—he pulls so—help me land him." So together they pulled him in—about two feet of wiggly, snaky-looking fish!

"What is it, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "I don't like him—he isn't pretty!" "It's an eel," said old Bob the gardener, laughing, "do you want to keep him or shall I throw him overboard?"

"'Deed I do want to keep him," said Buddy Jim, proudly, "I want to show him to Mother."

"All right," said Old Bob the gardener, "but he can't go in the basket with the regular fish. And now we'll go ashore and cook some of our catch for our luncheon."

"How can we make a fire, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "Everything's wet."

"That's easy," said Bob, "I'll go over in the woods and gather some birch bark, and you may pick up some small twigs that will dry quickly, and pile them on that flat rock by the water's edge."

It took only a few minutes for Buddy Jim to gather a big pile of the small dead twigs and branches, and then he sat down on another rock to look at his big eel and think about the fun it had been to land him.

There was no sound at all except the gentle splashing of the rain, when Buddy Jim heard soft footsteps, and then voices. "Now, isn't that a shame?" said a voice. "Some one has been catching our fish again, right out of our own lake!"

"Ssh, Children," said an older voice, "keep quiet—some one may hear you. They have gone away and left the basket open, and I will go and get the fish back again. Just wait here and keep quiet."

Buddy Jim kept quiet, because he very much wished to know which Little Neighbor it was; so quiet indeed, that Mrs. American Mink came fully into sight before she saw him. Buddy Jim knew her at once, because her picture was in one of his Nature books; and he knew also that she is very fond of fish to eat.

She was very much surprised when she saw Buddy Jim and immediately tried to look just like a bit of brown earth, but Buddy Jim spoke, and she knew she had been seen.

"How do you do, Little Neighbor," said he, "and what can I do for you?"