All the way to school the next morning
Peter Rabbit wondered who they would learn about that
day. He was so busy wondering that he was heedless.
Peter is apt to be heedless at times. The result
was that as he hopped out of a bramble-tangle just
within the edge of the Green Forest, he all but landed
in something worse than the worst brambles that ever
grew. It was only by a wild side jump that he
saved himself. Peter had almost landed among
the thousand little spears of Prickly Porky the Porcupine.
“Gracious!” exclaimed Peter.
“Why don’t you look where
you are going,” grunted Prickly Porky.
Plainly he was rather peevish. “It wouldn’t
be my fault if you had a few of my little spears sticking
in you this very minute, and it would serve you right.”
He waddled along a few steps, then began talking
again. “I don’t see why Old Mother
Nature sent for me this morning,” he grumbled.
“I hate a long walk.”
Peter pricked up his long ears.
“I know!” he cried. “You’re
going to school, Prickly Porky. You’re
a Rodent, and we are going to learn all about you
this morning.”
“I’m not a Rodent; I’m
a Porcupine,” grunted Prickly Porky indignantly.
“You’re a Rodent just
the same. You’ve got big gnawing teeth,
and any one with that kind of teeth is a Rodent,”
retorted Peter. Then at a sudden thought a funny
look passed over his face. “Why, that
means that you and I are related in a way,” he
added.
“Don’t believe it,”
grunted Prickly Porky, still shuffling along.
“Don’t believe it. Don’t want
to be related to anybody as heedless as you.
What is this school, anyway? Don’t want
to go to school. Know all I want to know.
Know how to get all I want to eat and how to make
everybody get out of my way and leave me alone, and
that’s enough to know.” He rattled
the thousand little spears hidden in his coat, and
Peter shivered at the sound. It was a most unpleasant
sound.
“Well, some folks do like to
be stupid,” snapped Peter and hurried on, lipperty-lipperty-lip,
while Prickly Porky slowly shuffled and rattled along
behind.
All the others were there when Peter
arrived. Prickly Porky wasn’t even in
sight. Old Mother Nature wasted no time.
She has too much to do ever to waste time.
She called the school to order at once.
“Yesterday,” she began,
“I told you about two little haymakers of the
high mountains of the Far West. Who were they,
Peter Rabbit?”
“Little Chief Hare, called the
Pika or Cony, and Stubtail the Mountain Beaver or
Sewellel,” replied Peter with great promptness.
“Right,” said Old Mother
Nature. “Now I am going to tell you of
one of my little plowmen who also lives in the Far
West but prefers the great plains to the high mountains,
though he is sometimes found in the latter.
He is Grubby the Gopher, a member of the same order
the rest of you belong to, but of a family quite his
own. He is properly called the Pocket Gopher,
and way down in the Southeast, where he is also found,
he is called a Salamander, though what for I haven’t
the least idea.”
“Does he have pockets in his
cheeks like mine?” asked Striped Chipmunk eagerly.
“He has pockets in his cheeks,
and that is why he is called Pocket Gopher,”
replied Old Mother Nature; “but they are not
at all like yours, Striped Chipmunk. Yours are
on the inside of your cheeks, but his are on the outside.”
“How funny!” exclaimed Striped Chipmunk.
“Your pockets are small compared
with those of Grubby,” continued Old Mother
Nature. “One of his covers almost the whole
side of his head back to his short neck, and it is
lined with fur, and remember he has two of them.
Grubby uses these for carrying food and never for
carrying out earth when he is digging a tunnel, as
some folks think he does. He stuffs them full
with his front feet and empties them by pressing them
from the back with his feet. The Gopher family
is quite large and the members range in size from
the size of Danny Meadow Mouse to that of Robber the
Rat, only these bigger members are stouter and heavier
than Robber. Some are reddish-brown and some
are gray. But whatever his size and wherever
he is found, Grubby’s habits are the same.”
All this time Peter Rabbit had been
fidgeting about. It was quite clear that Peter
had something on his mind. Now as Old Mother
Nature paused, Peter found the chance he had been waiting
for. “If you please, why did you call him
a plowman?” he asked eagerly.
“I’m coming to that all
in due time,” replied Old Mother Nature, smiling
at Peter’s eagerness. “Grubby Gopher
spends most of his life underground, very much like
Miner the Mole, whom you all know. He can dig
tunnels just about as fast. His legs are short,
and his front legs and feet are very stout and strong.
They are armed with very long, strong claws and it
is with these and the help of his big cutting teeth
that Grubby digs. He throws the earth under
him and then kicks it behind him with his hind feet.
When he has quite a pile behind him he turns around,
and with his front feet and head pushes it along to
a little side tunnel and then up to the surface of
the ground. As soon as he has it all out he
plugs up the opening and goes back to digging.
The loose earth he has pushed out makes little mounds,
and he makes one of these mounds every few feet.
“Grubby is a great worker.
He is very industrious. Since he is underground,
it doesn’t make much difference to him whether
it be night or day. In summer, during the hottest
part of the day, he rests. His eyes are small
and weak because he has little use for them, coming
out on the surface very seldom and then usually in
the dusk. He has a funny little tail without
any hair on it; this is very sensitive and serves
him as a sort of guide when he runs backward along
his tunnel, which he can do quite fast. A funny
thing about those long claws on his front feet is that
he folds them under when he is walking or running.
Do any of you know why Farmer Brown plows his garden?”
As she asked this, Old Mother Nature
looked from one to another, and each in turn shook
his head. “It is to mix the dead vegetable
matter thoroughly with the earth so that the roots
of the plants may get it easily,” explained
Old Mother Nature. “By making those tunnels
in every direction and bringing up the earth below
to the surface, Grubby Gopher does the same thing.
That is why I call him my little plowman. He
loosens up the hard, packed earth and mixes the vegetable
matter with it and so makes it easy for seeds to sprout
and plants to grow.”
“Then he must be one of the
farmer’s best friends,” spoke up Happy
Jack Squirrel.
Old Mother Nature shook her head.
“He has been in the past,” said she.
“He has done a wonderful work in helping make
the land fit for farming. But where land is
being farmed he is a dreadful pest, I am sorry to
say. You see he eats the crops the farmer tries
to raise, and the new mounds he is all the time throwing
up bury a lot of the young plants, and in the meadows
make it very hard to use a mowing machine for cutting
hay. Then Grubby gets into young orchards and
cuts off all the tender roots of young trees.
This kills them. You see he is fond of tender
roots, seeds, stems of grass and grain, and is never
happier than when he can find a field of potatoes.
“Being such a worker, he has
to have a great deal to eat. Then, too, he stores
away a great deal for winter, for he doesn’t
sleep in winter as Johnny Chuck does. He even
tunnels about under the snow. Sometimes he fills
these little snow tunnels with the earth he brings
up from below, and when the snow melts it leaves queer
little earth ridges to show where the tunnels were.
“Grubby is very neat in his
habits and keeps his home and himself very clean.
During the day he leaves one of his mounds open for
a little while to let in fresh air. But it is
only for a little while. Then he closes it again.
He doesn’t dare leave it open very long, for
fear Shadow the Weasel or a certain big Snake called
the Gopher Snake will find it and come in after him.
Digger the Badger is the only one of his enemies
who can dig fast enough to dig him out, but at night,
when he likes to come out for a little air or to cut
grain and grass, he must always watch for Hooty the
Owl. Old Man Coyote and members of the Hawk family
are always looking for him by day, so you see he has
plenty of enemies, like the rest of you.
“He got the name Gopher because
that comes from a word meaning honeycomb, and Grubby’s
tunnels go in every direction until the ground is
like honeycomb. He isn’t a bit social and
has rather a mean disposition. He is always
ready to fight. On the plains he has done a
great deal to make the soil fine and rich, as I have
already told you, but on hillsides he does a great
deal of harm. The water runs down his tunnels
and washes away the soil. Because of this and
the damage he does to crops, man is his greatest enemy.
But man has furnished him with new and splendid foods
easy to get, and so Grubby’s family increases
faster than it used to, in spite of traps and poison.
Hello! See who’s here! It is about
time.”
There was a shuffling and rattling
and grunting, and Prickly Porky climbed up on an old
stump, looking very peevish and much out of sorts.
He had come to school much against his will.