Part 2 (1/2)

And then he joined in the laugh of Jimmy and Unc' Billy, but still with something of a look of wistfulness in his eyes.

VI

PETER DISCOVERS SOMETHING MORE

There are stranger things in the world to-day Than ever you dreamed could be.

There's beauty in some of the commonest things If only you've eyes to see.

Ever since Peter Rabbit was a little chap and had first ran away from home, he had known Old Mr. Toad, and never once had Peter suspected that he could sing. Also he had thought Old Mr. Toad almost ugly-looking, and he knew that most of his neighbors thought the same way. They were fond of Old Mr.

Toad, for he was always good-natured and attended strictly to his own affairs; but they liked to poke fun at him, and as for there being anything beautiful about him, such a thing never entered their heads.

Now that they had discovered that he really has a very beautiful voice, they began to look on him with a great deal more respect. This was especially so with Peter. He got in the habit of going over to the Smiling Pool every day, when the way was clear, just to sit on the bank and listen to Old Mr. Toad.

”Why didn't you ever tell us before that you could sing?” he asked one day, as Old Mr. Toad looked up at him from the Smiling Pool.

”What was the use of wasting my breath?” demanded Old Mr. Toad. ”You wouldn't have believed me if I had. You didn't believe me when I did tell you.”

Peter knew that this was true, and he couldn't find any answer ready. At last he ventured another question. ”Why haven't I ever heard you sing before?”

”You have,” replied Old Mr. Toad tartly. ”I sang right in this very place last spring, and the spring before, and the spring before that. You've sat on that very bank lots of times while I was singing. The trouble with you, Peter, is that you don't use your eyes or your ears.”

Peter looked more foolish than ever. But he ventured another question. It wouldn't be Peter to let a chance for questions go by. ”Have I ever heard you singing up on the meadows or in the Old Orchard?”

”No,” replied Old Mr. Toad, ”I only sing in the springtime. That's the time for singing. I just _have_ to sing then. In the summer it is too hot, and in the winter I sleep. I always return to my old home to sing. You know I was born here. All my family gathers here in the spring to sing, so of course I come too.”

Old Mr. Toad filled out his queer music bag under his chin and began to sing again. Peter watched him. Now it just happened that Old Mr. Toad was facing him, and so Peter looked down straight into his eyes. He never had looked into Mr. Toad's eyes before, and now he just stared and stared, for it came over him that those eyes were very beautiful, very beautiful indeed.

”Oh!” he exclaimed, ”what beautiful eyes you have, Mr. Toad!”

”So I've been told before,” replied Old Mr. Toad. ”My family always has had beautiful eyes. There is an old saying that every Toad has jewels in his head, but of course he hasn't, not real jewels. It is just the beautiful eyes. Excuse me, Peter, but I'm needed in that chorus.” Old Mr. Toad once more swelled out his throat and began to sing.

Peter watched him a while longer, then hopped away to the dear Old Briarpatch, and he was very thoughtful.

”Never again will I call anybody homely and ugly until I know all about him,” said Peter, which was a very wise decision. Don't you think so?

VII

A SHADOW Pa.s.sES OVER THE SMILING POOL

Here's what Mr. Toad says; Heed it well, my dear: ”Time to watch for clouds is When the sky is clear.”

He says that that is the reason that he lives to a good old age, does Old Mr. Toad. I suppose he means that when the sky is cloudy, everybody is looking for rain and is prepared for it, but when the sun is s.h.i.+ning, most people forget that there is such a thing as a storm, so when it comes suddenly very few are prepared for it. It is the same way with danger and trouble. So Old Mr. Toad very wisely watches out when there seems to be the least need of it, and he finds it always pays.

It was a beautiful spring evening. Over back of the Purple Hills to which Old Mother West Wind had taken her children, the Merry Little Breezes, and behind which jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had gone to bed, there was still a faint, clear light. But over the Green Meadows and the Smiling Pool the shadows had drawn a curtain of soft dusk which in the Green Forest became black. The little stars looked down from the sky and twinkled just to see their reflections twinkle back at them from the Smiling Pool. And there and all around it was perfect peace. Jerry Muskrat swam back and forth, making little silver lines on the surface of the Smiling Pool and squeaking contentedly, for it was the hour which he loves best. Little Friend the Song Sparrow had tucked his head under his wing and gone to sleep among the alders along the Laughing Brook and Redwing the Blackbird had done the same thing among the bulrushes. All the feathered songsters who had made joyous the bright day had gone to bed.

But this did not mean that the glad spring chorus was silent. Oh, my, no!