ANOTHER STRANGE CHUCK
Johnny Chuck awoke just as jolly,
round, red Mr. Sun pulled his own nightcap off.
At first Johnny couldn’t think where he was.
He blinked and blinked. Then he rolled over.
“Ouch!” cried Johnny Chuck. You see
he was so stiff and sore from his great fight the day
before, that it hurt to roll over. But when he
felt the smart of those wounds, he remembered where
he was. He was in the old hollow log that he had
found on the edge of the Green Meadows just before
dark. It was the first time that Johnny had ever
slept anywhere, excepting underground, and as he lay
blinking his eyes, it seemed very strange and rather
nice, too.
“Well, well, well! What
are you doing here?” cried a sharp voice.
Johnny Chuck looked towards the open
end of the old log. There, peeping in, was a
little face as sharp as the voice.
“Hello, Chatterer!” cried Johnny.
“I say, what are you doing here?”
persisted Chatterer the Red Squirrel, for it was he.
“Just waking up,” replied Johnny, with
a grin.
“It’s time,” replied
Chatterer. “But that isn’t telling
me what you are doing so far from home.”
“I haven’t any home,”
said Johnny, his face growing just a wee bit wistful.
“You haven’t any home!”
Chatterer’s voice sounded as if he didn’t
think he had heard aright. “What have you
done with it?”
“Given it to Jimmy Skunk,” replied Johnny
Chuck.
Now Chatterer never gives anything
to anybody, and how any one could give away his home
was more than he could understand. He stared at
Johnny as if he thought Johnny had gone crazy.
Finally he found his tongue. “I don’t
believe it!” he snapped. “If Jimmy
Skunk has got your old home, it’s because he
put you out of it.”
“No such thing! I’d
like to see Jimmy Skunk or anybody else put me out
of my home!” Johnny Chuck spoke scornfully.
“I gave it to him because I didn’t want
it any longer. I’m going to see the world,
and then I’m going to build me a new home.
Everybody else seems to be building new homes this
spring; why shouldn’t I?”
“I’m not!” retorted
Chatterer. “I know enough to know when I
am well off.
“Who has a discontented
heart
Is sure to play a sorry
part.”
Johnny Chuck crawled out of the old
log and stretched himself somewhat painfully.
“That may be, but there are different kinds of
discontent.
Who never looks for
better things
Will live his life in
little rings.
Well, I must be moving along, if I
am to see the world.” So Johnny Chuck bade
Chatterer good-by and started on. It was very
delightful to wander over the Green Meadows on such
a beautiful spring morning. The violets and the
wind-flowers nodded to him, and the dandelions smiled
up at him. Johnny almost forgot his torn clothes
and the bites and scratches of his great fight with
the gray old Chuck the day before. It was fun
to just go where he pleased and not have a care in
the world.
He was thinking of this, as he sat
up to look over the Green Meadows. His heart
gave a great throb. What was that over near the
lone elm-tree? It was—yes, it certainly
was another Chuck! Could it be the old gray Chuck
come back for another fight? A great anger filled
the heart of Johnny Chuck, and he whistled sharply.
The strange Chuck didn’t answer. Johnny
ground his teeth and started for the lone elm-tree.
He would show this other Chuck who was master of the
Green Meadows!