JOHNNY CHUCK BECOMES DISSATISFIED
Johnny Chuck was unhappy. Here
it was the glad springtime, when everybody is supposed
to be the very happiest, and Johnny Chuck was unhappy.
Why was he unhappy? Well, he hardly knew himself.
He had slept comfortably all the long winter.
He had awakened very, very hungry, but now he had
plenty to eat. All about him the birds were singing
or busily at work building new homes. And still
Johnny Chuck felt unhappy. It was dreadful to
feel this way and not have any good reason for it.
One bright morning Johnny Chuck sat
on his door-step watching Drummer the Woodpecker building
a new home in the old apple-tree. Drummer’s
red head flew back and forth, back and forth, and his
sharp bill cut out tiny bits of wood. It was
slow work; it was hard work. But Drummer seemed
happy, very happy indeed. It was watching Drummer
that started Johnny Chuck to thinking about his own
home. He had always thought it a very nice home.
He had built it just as he wanted it. From the
doorstep he could look in all directions over the Green
Meadows. It had a front door and a hidden back
door. Yes, it was a very nice home indeed.
But now, all of a sudden, Johnny Chuck
became dissatisfied with his home. It was too
near the Lone Little Path. Too many people knew
where it was. It wasn’t big enough.
The front door ought to face the other way. Dear
me, what a surprising lot of faults a discontented
heart can find with things that have always been just
right! It was so with Johnny Chuck. That
house in which he had spent so many happy days, which
had protected him from all harm, of which he had been
so proud when he first built it, was now the meanest
house in the world. If other people had new houses,
why shouldn’t he? The more he thought about
it, the more dissatisfied and discontented he became
and of course the more unhappy. You know one
cannot be dissatisfied and discontented and happy
at the same time.
Now dissatisfied and discontented
people are not at all pleasant to have around.
Johnny Chuck had always been one of the best natured
of all the little meadow people, and everybody liked
him. So Jimmy Skunk didn’t know quite what
to make of it, when he came down the Lone Little Path
and found Johnny Chuck so out of sorts that he wouldn’t
even answer when spoken to.
Jimmy Skunk was feeling very good-natured
himself. He had just had a fine breakfast of
fat beetles and he was at peace with all the world.
So he sat down beside Johnny Chuck and began to talk,
just as if Johnny Chuck was his usual good-natured
self.
“It’s a fine day,” said Jimmy Skunk.
Johnny Chuck just sniffed.
“You’re looking very fine,” said
Jimmy.
Johnny just scowled.
“I think you’ve got the
best place on the Green Meadows for a house,”
said Jimmy, pretending to admire the view.
Johnny scowled harder than ever.
“And such a splendid house!” said Jimmy.
“I wish I had one like it.”
“I’m glad you like it!
You can have the old thing!” snapped Johnny
Chuck.
“What’s that?” demanded Jimmy Skunk,
opening his eyes very wide.
“I said that you can have it.
I’m going to move,” replied Johnny Chuck.
Now he really hadn’t thought
of moving until that very minute. And he didn’t
know why he had said it. But he had said it, and
because he is an obstinate little fellow he stuck
to it.
“When can I move in?”
asked Jimmy Skunk, his eyes twinkling.
“Right away, if you want to,”
replied Johnny Chuck, and swaggered off down the Lone
Little Path, leaving Jimmy Skunk to stare after him
as if he thought Johnny Chuck had suddenly gone crazy,
as indeed he did.