MR. RABBIT'S STAR STORY

JACK RABBIT TELLS OF HIS GRANDPAW'S

LONG LADDER THAT TOUCHED THE SKY

This is the story that Jack Rabbit told to the Hollow Tree people when they sat together on the edge of the world, and hung their feet over the Big Nowhere and looked at the stars.

"Well," he said, "you may remember my telling you once about the moon being a world, and how, a long time ago, my folks used to live there, and all slid off one day, when the moon tipped up on its edge, and they were not holding on."

Mr. 'Possum said that he remembered quite well, and that Mr. Rabbit's story had seemed to explain everything—at the time. Of course, he said, an explanation couldn't be expected to last forever, and if Mr. Rabbit would like to make a new one, that would be even better, they would be glad to hear it, because Mr. Rabbit's stories were always interesting, even when doubtful, and besides—

Mr. Rabbit didn't wait for Mr. 'Possum to get done. He said it was one of those conversations that could be finished any time and didn't need any audience. "Perhaps Mr. 'Possum wouldn't mind waiting," he said, until the others had told their stories and gone home. Then he went right on to tell his story, like this:

"The sky is also a world—as big a world as this is, with a wide, rounding floor that looks blue in the daytime and nearly black at night, when the sun is gone. The sky country is really kind of an up-stairs world, and the stars are small windows, or peep-holes, in the big, blue floor, for the people up there to look down through when they want to see what is going on below. Those little windows are always there, day and night, though you can't see them in the daytime, because then the sun is shining here and not up there. In the evening, when it quits shining here, it goes up there, and then, of course, all the star windows are lit up, just like a window in the Hollow Tree at night. I will tell you a story of the sky country and its star windows, which explains everything. It has come down in our family ever since my folks lived in the moon, which was a great many great-grandfathers back, and is true, accordingly."

"The moon, where we used to live, is a pretty small world, compared with the sky world—being about like a pea compared with a bread-bowl—and our people used to have such big families that if they hadn't found some place for them to go they would have got so thick that the moon wouldn't have begun to hold them.

"Well, the moon is pretty close to the sky—not as close as you would think to look at it, for it seems right against it; it is really about a mile off—a mile and ten feet, exactly, I believe, or at least that was the length of my eighty-second great-grandfather's ladder, though, of course, that had to slant some. My grandparent built that ladder when our folks got together and decided that we were getting too thick and something must be done about it. My ancestor said the sky was just the thing. He had never been there, but he had a beautiful imagination, and he told them all about the lovely rivers and meadows and fields of clover they would find there, and said he would invent a way to get there for all who wanted to go.

TOLD WHAT A GRAND PLACE THE SKY WAS

"Everybody that heard my ancestor went home and told what a grand place the sky was, and made it even better than he had said; and some went around getting other crowds together and telling them about it, and went on improving the scenery until nobody had ever dreamed before of such a wonderful place as that sky-country, and it looked as if all the people in the moon were just waiting to climb Grandpaw's ladder as soon as it was done.

"It took my ancestor a good while to make it. The first time he got it done it was too short. When he sent out bids to the raising, and a lot of the neighbors came over to help, and ever so many folks were there with their things, ready to go up, they found it wouldn't touch by a good deal, and Grandpaw had to splice on about a quarter of a mile more. Then they had another raising, and when they got the ladder up and well propped, Grandpaw went up first to saw out a door to get in by.

"Now Grandpaw was smart. He knew that there are a lot of people never satisfied with anything, and who always want to come back, no matter how fine the place is. So he sawed out a little double trap, opening in the center, just big enough for single file, and put on strong spring hinges that open only one way—the way in, of course—with no handholds on the above side. Then he took a little look inside himself, and came back down the ladder, and the procession started.

THEY PILED UP THAT LADDER IN A STEADY STREAM

"No such a collection of our family was ever seen before or since. Everybody in the moon had heard about that wonderful new country where there was lots of room and everything free, and they wanted to see it. They piled up that ladder in a steady stream for nearly a month before the line began to thin out, and it was a great help to the space on the moon. Of course none of them could come back to tell how it was there, or draw back once he got started through Grandpaw's spring-closing, one-way door. One long, thin rabbit called Snoop, who was always trying to see everything in advance, tried to jerk back after he got his head through, but Grandpaw's door caught him just back of the ears, and he decided to go on in. I don't know what my eighty-second great-grandfather saw when he took that first look. He didn't say. Grandpaw didn't join the sky procession himself, because he said he had to keep his ladder in repair. I forgot to say that he charged for each one that went up, and prospered a good deal, at first. When the crowd thinned out he sent several different ones around to explain what a grand place the sky was, and all about his ladder. My ancestor was a great hand to keep things moving.

GRANDPAW WENT ABOUT TWO-THIRDS OF THE WAY UP HIS LADDER, TO SEE

"Well, by and by our folks who had stayed on the moon began to notice bright lights in the sky at night, and wondered what they were, and one night when business wasn't very good Grandpaw went about two-thirds of the way up his ladder to see. When he came back he said that those were windows of various sizes which the sky settlers were cutting through the floor so they could see what was going on back home. At first there were only a few scattering holes, but every night there were a lot more, until it looked as if those people up there put in all their time looking down at the place where they came from. Our folks used to listen to see if they wouldn't call down something about how they liked it, but nothing of that kind ever happened. Perhaps it was too far, or maybe they had made some law about it. Anyway, all that my people ever knew about those travelers was the windows they kept cutting, and those got so thick, by and by, that my ancestor was worried for fear the floor would get weak and the sky-world fall to pieces and spoil his income. So he sent up word by some who were going that if that window-cutting didn't stop he would take down his ladder and not let any more of their friends come. Very likely that scared them, for though the sky floor must have got pretty weak, it didn't come through and you see it is there, with all the windows, that we call stars, in it yet. The ladder built by my eighty-second great-grandfather remained in our family and was still working up to the time the moon tipped and spilt all that was left down here, just as I told you before. I never heard what became of it after that.

"As for those windows, I suppose they are still in use, as those sky-people would want to see what became of us. Those holes look pretty small, of course, from here, being so far away, and people got to calling them stars because they look like stars at this distance, though most of them would be round or square, I judge, if you could see them close. Some of them must have shutters, for sometimes there seem to be a great many more than others, especially on a very clear night, when I suppose those people up there have them all open. They are so thick then that I don't wonder my ancestor grew worried about the floor. I found a leaf, once, from one of Mr. Man's poetry books, and it said on it,

The night has a thousand eyes

and I suppose that meant the stars, but it must have been written a long time ago, for there are a good many more than a thousand now; and there's a verse in our family which says,

A million windows in the sky Watch the nights and days go by.

"Which proves they have been there a long time and that they are really windows, and useful, and not mere ornaments, though they are certainly very pretty to look at, especially on a night like this and in such good company."

Then Mr. 'Possum said that he thought Mr. Rabbit's story was a very good one and explained the stars fully as well, in some ways, as Mr. 'Coon's story, though it was less exciting. He said he was sorry there was no story in his family to tell what the stars were, and asked Mr. Crow if there was anything of the kind in his family.

Mr. Crow said that there was a story, but that it wasn't exactly in his family—it was in him. Both Mr. 'Coon's and Mr. Rabbit's stories had been very good, he said, and no doubt true enough as far as they went, but that his story went farther, a good deal farther, especially in the direction of personal experience, even than Mr. 'Coon's. It had all been quite sad at the time, and he had never told it before to any one, but if they cared to hear it he would tell it now.

Then the 'Coon and the 'Possum and Mr. Jack Rabbit said they would be glad to hear a story from Mr. Crow, especially to-night; and Mr. Crow said he must think a little to get the beginning straight, which he did, and was ready presently to start.