Read Online The Old Meadow by George Selden - Free Book Online Page B

moment—no shadows!—for all things that lived. Everybody asked himself: Am I here?
    Chester opened the proceedings, from the top of a modest tuffet: “The question, Field Folk, is— do we try to help Mr. Budd?”
    Beatrice Pheasant, as usual, was the first to speak. She mounted a tuffet, took a quick look around at her beautiful feathers, and said, “I, for one, am rather glad that the matter of Mr. Budd—”
    â€œHooray for him!” shouted Henry Chipmunk. “I’d be drowned without him.”
    â€œWell, he chased me right into the brook!” said Bill Squirrel. “I was only looking for acorns, too, underneath his porch—”
    â€œHe never chased me! ” interrupted Robert Rabbit. “Just as long as I stay in my half of the carrot-and-lettuce patch, he’s as nice as grass. He even likes to watch me munch out, through that slippery window of his.”
    â€œHe tried to drown me,” remembered Paul Mole. “Poured water down my front door.”
    â€œYou were ruining the little lawn the old man has made,” said Robert. “If you’d struck a bargain, to live under only half—like me in his garden—he’d probably—”
    â€œOh, he’s not nice! ” fussed Beatrice. “He’s old, and sometimes—he doesn’t wash!”
    â€œThe brook’s cold sometimes!” said Dubber. “I’d like to see you —”
    Donald Dragonfly tried to get in a buzz, but no one paid any attention. Donald wasn’t insulted: he’d already forgotten what he wanted to say.
    â€œPlease! Please!” chirped Chester. “We’ll never get anywhere, if everyone talks at once.”
    Somewhere in his antennae, however, Chester Cricket knew that a lot of the fun of a great debate was in interrupting. He felt a twitch to shout himself. But he held himself steady and did his duty, as chair-cricket of this meeting.
    â€œI’d like to hear from Ashley Mockingbird,” said Chester, very businesslike. “Y’all—I mean, everybody knows that Ashley is our guest here this summer, and he’s gotten to be Mr. Budd’s best friend.”
    â€œHis best?” Dubber lifted his long ears up and blinked his soulful brown eyes.
    â€œ One of his best,” Chester’s voice retreated. “I think Ashley might enlighten us as to—”
    â€œI think I might enlighten you, too! Aw! Haw!”
    J. J. Jay, on his skillful wings, rode down through the air and alighted gracefully beside Chester on the Speaker’s Tuffet. He’d been sulking, brooding, in his beech for these two days—part from anger, and part humiliation, and part—who knows what? Nerves, not remorse.
    Ashley Mockingbird was standing just below Chester. His wing was still sore, and he’d barely been able to limp through the air down to Pasture Land. There was a very difficult minute between J.J. and Ashley: that moment between confused guys who’ve had a fight and can’t yet reach each other again. Eyes avoided eyes.
    As soon as Walter saw J.J. glide down, he raced like black lightning straight up to the tuffet. “I mean this, J.J.!—my teeth have been a joke up till now—but I’ll take off your legs if you lay one feather on Ashley!”
    â€œOh, don’t worry!” J.J. scoffed. “I won’t beat up on this wimp again.”
    â€œTake that back—!”
    â€œForget it, Walt.” Ashley patted the snake on the back of his head. That’s something that doesn’t happen often. Even under the binding spell of the Truce. A snake and a bird. All the animals looked up in awe at this gesture of friendship. “I got the respect of the people I like.”
    â€œAw, haw! ” laughed J.J. “You field fools can just stop your talkin’! You can’t save the old geezer, anyway. I happened to be near the cabin this morning—had to get off