“It has always been mighty curious to me,” said Mr. Rabbit, “why everything and everybody is not contented with what they’ve got. There’d be lots less trouble in the country next door if everybody was satisfied.”

“Well,” remarked Mr. Thimblefinger, “some people have nothing at all. I hope you don’t want a man who has nothing to be satisfied. An empty pocket makes an empty stomach, and an empty stomach has a way of talking so it can be heard.”

“That is true,” replied Mr. Rabbit; “but there is a living in the world for every creature, if he will only get out of bed and walk about and look for it. But a good many folks and a heap of the animals think that if there is a living in the world for everybody, it ought to be handed round in a silver dish. Then there are some folks and a great many creatures that are not satisfied with what they are, but want to be somebody or something else. That sort of talk puts me in mind of the Diddypawn.”

“What is the Diddypawn?” asked Buster John.

“Well, it would be hard to tell you at this time of day,” replied Mr. Rabbit, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There are no Diddypawns now, and I don’t know that I ever saw but one. He is the chap I’m going to tell you about. He was a great big strong creature, with a long head and short ears, and eyes that could see in the dark. He had legs that could carry him many a mile in a day, and teeth strong enough to crunch an elephant’s hind leg. The Diddypawn would have weeded a wide row if he had been a mind to; but, instead of doing that, he just lay in the mud on the river bank, and let the sun shine and the rain fall. He had but to reach down in the water to pick up a fish, or up in the bushes to catch a bird.

“But all this didn’t make his mind easy. He wasn’t contented. The thought came to him that a fine large creature such as he was ought to be able to swim as fast as a fish, and fly as high as a bird. So he worried and worried and worried about it, until there was no peace in that neighborhood. All the creatures that crawled, or walked, or swam, or flew, heard of the Diddypawn’s troubles. At first they paid no attention to him, but he groaned so long and he groaned so loud that they couldn’t help but pay attention. They couldn’t sleep at night, and they couldn’t have any peace in the daytime.

“For I don’t know how long the Diddypawn rolled and tumbled in the mud, and moaned and groaned because he didn’t have as many fins as the fishes and as many feathers as the birds. He moaned and mumbled in the daytime, and groaned and grumbled at night. The other creatures paid no attention to him at first; but matters went from bad to worse, and they soon found that they had to do something or leave the country.

“So, after awhile the fishes held a convention, and the porpoise and the catfish made speeches, saying that the Diddypawn was in a peck of trouble, and asking what could be done for him. Finally, after a good deal of talk about one thing and another, the convention of fishes concluded to call on the Diddypawn in a body, and ask him what in the name of goodness he wanted.

“This they did; and the reply that the Diddypawn made was that he wanted to know how to swim as well as any fish. There wasn’t anything unreasonable in this; and so the convention, after a good deal more talk, said that the best way to do would be for every fish to lend the Diddypawn a fin.

“The convention told the Diddypawn about this, and it made him grin from one ear to the other to think that he would be able to swim as fast as the fishes. He rolled from the bank into the shallow water, and the fishes, as good as their word, loaned him each a fin. With these the Diddypawn found he was able to get about in the water right nimbly. He swam around and around, far and near, and finally reached an island where there were some trees.

“‘Don’t go too near the land,’ says the catfish. ‘Don’t go too near the land,’ says the perch.

“‘Don’t bother about me,’ says the Diddypawn. “I can walk on the land as well as I can swim in the water.’

“‘But our fins!’ says the catfish and the perch. ‘If you go on land and let them dry in the sun, they’ll be no good to either us or you.’

“‘No matter,’ says the Diddypawn, ‘on the land I’ll go, and I’ll be bound the fins will be just as limber after they get dry as they were when they were wet.’

“But the fishes set up such a cry and made such a fuss that the Diddypawn concluded to give them back their fins, while he went on dry land and rested himself. He went on the island, and stretched himself out in the tall grass at the foot of the big trees, and soon fell asleep. When he awoke, the sun was nearly down. He crawled to the waterside, and soon saw that the fishes had all gone away. He had no way of calling them up or of sending them a message, and so there he was.

“While the Diddypawn was lying there wondering how he was going to get back home, he heard a roaring and rustling noise in the air. Looking up, he saw that the sky was nearly black with birds. They came in swarms, in droves, and in flocks. There were big birds and little birds, and all sorts and sizes of birds. The trees on the island were their roosting-place, but they were coming home earlier than usual, because they wanted to get rid of the moanings and groanings of the Diddypawn.

“The birds came and settled in the trees, and were about to say good-night to one another, when the Diddypawn rolled over, and began to moan and groan and growl and grumble. At once the birds ceased their chattering, and began to listen. Then they knew they would have no sound sleep that night if something wasn’t done; and so the King-Bird flew down, lit close to the Diddypawn’s ear, and asked him what in the name of goodness gracious he was doing there, how he got there, and what the trouble was anyway.

“All the answer the Diddypawn made was to roll over on his other side, and moan and mumble. Once more the King-Bird fluttered in the air, and lit near the Diddypawn’s ear, and asked him what in the name of goodness gracious he was doing there, how he got there, and what the trouble was anyway. For answer, the Diddypawn turned on the other side, and groaned and grumbled.

“How long this was kept up I’ll never tell you, but after a while, the Diddypawn said the trouble with him was that he wanted to fly. He said he would fly well enough if he only had feathers; but, as it was, he didn’t have a feather to his name, or to his hide either.

“Well, the birds held a convention over this situation, and after a good deal of loud talk, it was decided that each bird should lend the Diddypawn a feather. This was done in the midst of a good deal of fluttering and chattering. When the Diddypawn was decked out in his feathers, he strutted around and shook his wings at a great rate.

“‘Where shall I fly to?’ he asked.

“Now, there was another island not far away, on which everything was dead,—the trees, the bushes, the grass, and even the honeysuckle vines. But some of the trees were still standing. With their lack of leaf and twig they looked like a group of tall, black lighthouses. When the Diddypawn asked where he should fly, Brother Turkey Buzzard made this remark:—

“To this the Diddypawn made reply,—

“Then the Diddypawn fluttered his feathers and hopped about, and, after a while, took a running start and began to fly. He didn’t fly very well at first, being a new hand at the business. He wobbled from side to side, and sometimes it seemed that he was going to fall in the water, but he always caught himself just in time. After a while he reached the island where everything was dead, and landed with a tremendous splash and splutter in the wet marsh grass.

“As dark had not set in, the most of the birds flew along with the Diddypawn, to see how he was going to come out. The Diddypawn had hardly lit, before Brother Turkey Buzzard ups and says:—

“‘I don’t want my feather to get wet, and so I’ll just take it back again.’ This was the sign for all the birds. None wanted his feather to get wet, so they just swooped down on the Diddypawn and took their feathers one by one. When the fluttering was over, the Diddypawn had no more feathers than fins. But he made no complaint. He had it in his mind that he’d rest easy during the night and begin his complaints the next morning.

“Says he, ‘I’ve got the birds and the fishes so trained that when I want to fly, all I’ve got to do is to turn over on my left side and grunt, and when I want to swim, all I’ve got to do is to turn over on my right side and groan.’ Then the Diddypawn smiled, until there were wrinkles in his countenance as deep and as wide as a horse-trough.

“But the birds went back to their roosting-place that night, and there was nothing to disturb them; and the fishes swam around the next day, and there was nothing to bother them.

“Matters went on in this way for several days, and at last some of the birds began to ask about the Diddypawn. ‘Had anybody seen him?’ or ‘Did anybody know how he was getting on?’

“This was passed around among the birds, until at last it came to the ears of Brother Turkey Buzzard. He stretched out his wings and gaped, and said that he had been thinking about taking his family and calling on the Diddypawn. So that very day, Brother Turkey Buzzard, his wife and his children and some of his blood kin, went down to the dead island, to call on the Diddypawn. They went and stayed several days. The rest of the birds, when they came home to roost, could see the Turkey Buzzard family sitting in the dead trees; and after so long a time they came back, and went to roost with the rest of the birds. Some of them asked how the Diddypawn was getting on, and Brother Turkey Buzzard made this reply:—

“This made Brother Owl hoot a little, but it wasn’t long before all the birds were fast asleep.”

Mr. Rabbit never knew how the children liked the story of the Diddypawn. Buster John was about to say something, but he saw little Mr. Thimblefinger pull out his watch and look up at the bottom of the spring.

“What time is it?” asked Mrs. Meadows, seeing that Mr. Thimblefinger still held his watch in his hand.

“A quarter to twelve.”

“Oh,” cried Sweetest Susan, “we promised mamma to be back by dinner time.”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” said Mrs. Meadows. “I do hope you’ll come again. It rests me to see you.”

The children shook hands all around when Mr. Thimblefinger said he was ready to go, and Mr. Rabbit remarked to Buster John:—

“Don’t forget what I told you about Aaron.”

There was no danger of that, Buster John said; and then the children followed Mr. Thimblefinger, who led them safely through the spring, and they were soon at home again.