The Tale of Mr. Tod

								
[For William Francis of Ulva--Someday!]

I have made many books about
well-behaved people. Now, for a
change, I am going to make a story
about two disagreeable people,
called Tommy Brock and Mr. Tod.

Nobody could call Mr. Tod
"nice." The rabbits could not bear
him; they could smell him half a
mile off. He was of a wandering
habit and he had foxy whiskers;
they never knew where he would be
next.

One day he was living in a stick-
house in the coppice [grove], causing
terror to the family of old Mr.
Benjamin Bouncer. Next day he
moved into a pollard willow near
the lake, frightening the wild ducks
and the water rats.

In winter and early spring he
might generally be found in an
earth amongst the rocks at the top
of Bull Banks, under Oatmeal Crag.

He had half a dozen houses, but
he was seldom at home.

The houses were not always
empty when Mr. Tod moved OUT;
because sometimes Tommy Brock
moved IN; (without asking leave).

Tommy Brock was a short bristly
fat waddling person with a grin; he
grinned all over his face. He was
not nice in his habits. He ate wasp
nests and frogs and worms; and he
waddled about by moonlight, digging
things up.

His clothes were very dirty; and
as he slept in the daytime, he
always went to bed in his boots.
And the bed which he went to bed
in was generally Mr. Tod's.

Now Tommy Brock did occasionally
eat rabbit pie; but it was only
very little young ones occasionally,
when other food was really scarce.
He was friendly with old Mr.
Bouncer; they agreed in disliking
the wicked otters and Mr. Tod; they
often talked over that painful subject.

Old Mr. Bouncer was stricken in
years. He sat in the spring sunshine
outside the burrow, in a muffler;
smoking a pipe of rabbit tobacco.

He lived with his son Benjamin
Bunny and his daughter-in-law
Flopsy, who had a young family.
Old Mr. Bouncer was in charge of
the family that afternoon, because
Benjamin and Flopsy had gone out.

The little rabbit babies were just
old enough to open their blue eyes
and kick. They lay in a fluffy bed of
rabbit wool and hay, in a shallow
burrow, separate from the main
rabbit hole. To tell the truth--old
Mr. Bouncer had forgotten them.

He sat in the sun, and conversed
cordially with Tommy Brock, who
was passing through the wood with
a sack and a little spud which he
used for digging, and some mole
traps. He complained bitterly
about the scarcity of pheasants'
eggs, and accused Mr. Tod of
poaching them. And the otters had
cleared off all the frogs while he
was asleep in winter--"I have not
had a good square meal for a fort-
night, I am living on pig-nuts. I
shall have to turn vegetarian and
eat my own tail!" said Tommy
Brock.

It was not much of a joke, but it
tickled old Mr. Bouncer; because
Tommy Brock was so fat and
stumpy and grinning.

So old Mr. Bouncer laughed; and
pressed Tommy Brock to come inside,
to taste a slice of seed cake
and "a glass of my daughter Flopsy's
cowslip wine." Tommy Brock
squeezed himself into the rabbit
hole with alacrity.

Then old Mr. Bouncer smoked
another pipe, and gave Tommy
Brock a cabbage leaf cigar which
was so very strong that it made
Tommy Brock grin more than ever;
and the smoke filled the burrow.
Old Mr. Bouncer coughed and
laughed; and Tommy Brock puffed
and grinned.

And Mr. Bouncer laughed and
coughed, and shut his eyes because
of the cabbage smoke ..........

When Flopsy and Benjamin came
back old Mr. Bouncer woke up.
Tommy Brock and all the young
rabbit babies had disappeared!

Mr. Bouncer would not confess
that he had admitted anybody into
the rabbit hole. But the smell of
badger was undeniable; and there
were round heavy footmarks in the
sand. He was in disgrace; Flopsy
wrung her ears, and slapped him.

Benjamin Bunny set off at once
after Tommy Brock.

There was not much difficulty in
tracking him; he had left his foot-
mark and gone slowly up the winding
footpath through the wood. Here he
had rooted up the moss and wood
sorrel. There he had dug quite a
deep hole for dog darnel; and had
set a mole trap. A little stream
crossed the way. Benjamin skipped
lightly over dry-foot; the badger's
heavy steps showed plainly in the mud.

The path led to a part of the
thicket where the trees had been
cleared; there were leafy oak
stumps, and a sea of blue hyacinths
--but the smell that made Benjamin
stop was NOT the smell of flowers!

Mr. Tod's stick house was before
him; and, for once, Mr. Tod was at
home. There was not only a foxy
flavor in proof of it--there was
smoke coming out of the broken
pail that served as a chimney.

Benjamin Bunny sat up, staring,
his whiskers twitched. Inside the
stick house somebody dropped a
plate, and said something. Benjamin
stamped his foot, and bolted.

He never stopped till he came to
the other side of the wood. Apparently
Tommy Brock had turned the
same way. Upon the top of the wall
there were again the marks of

badger; and some ravellings of a
sack had caught on a briar.

Benjamin climbed over the wall,
into a meadow. He found another
mole trap newly set; he was still
upon the track of Tommy Brock. It
was getting late in the afternoon.
Other rabbits were coming out to
enjoy the evening air. One of them
in a blue coat, by himself, was busily
hunting for dandelions.--
"Cousin Peter! Peter Rabbit, Peter
Rabbit!" shouted Benjamin Bunny.

The blue coated rabbit sat up
with pricked ears--"Whatever is
the matter, Cousin Benjamin? Is it
a cat? or John Stoat Ferret?"

"No, no, no! He's bagged my
family--Tommy Brock--in a sack
--have you seen him?"

"Tommy Brock? how many,
Cousin Benjamin?"

"Seven, Cousin Peter, and all of
them twins! Did he come this way?
Please tell me quick!"

"Yes, yes; not ten minutes since
... he said they were CATERPILLARS;
I did think they were kicking rather
hard, for caterpillars."

"Which way? which way has he
gone, Cousin Peter?"

"He had a sack with something
live in it; I watched him set a mole

								Rate this book:
0.0 / 0 votes