Tucker's Countryside (11 page)

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Authors: George Selden

BOOK: Tucker's Countryside
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“All right.” Tucker sighed. He could not take his eyes off the marching children. “But I wish there was some way I could help those kids. Maybe if I threw myself in front of the next car that comes—”

“What kind of help would that be?” said Chester.

“Well, the car might stop, and Ellen could tell the driver what they're doing, and—”

“Come on.” Harry gently prodded the mouse. “Let's go see where Henry and Emily live.”

With Chester hopping along beside them, the animals went down the hill, walked around Simon's Pool, past Ellen's Special Place, and came to a spot where a big log was caught against the bank of the brook. It projected out into the water, and from the end of it an easy jump could be made to the farther bank. When everyone was on the other side, Tucker Mouse looked back. The morning sun made a golden picture that knitted together the birches of Ellen's Special Place, the glittering surface of Simon's Pool, and the hill above, where Bill Squirrel's elm was growing. The yawning cavity on the other side could not be seen—only the steam shovel's roof. But since it was Saturday, Bertha would not be working today.

Tucker shook his head. “To think of everything—just gone!”

“Don't think of it,” said Chester.

Henry Chipmunk led them off toward the West, through land that was very much like Pasture Land: flat grass with daisies and buttercups and low, blue forget-me-nots growing in it. On any other day it would have been a happy parade that tramped through the fields, surrounded by flowers. Soon the ground began to rise, and they came to a hilly country where tangled old trees were planted in rows. “These are apple trees,” Henry explained. “Ages ago, when there used to be a farm here, the farmer had an orchard. You should smell how sweet it smells in the fall, when all the apples are lying on the ground!”

Beyond the orchard there was an open space, and then two great oak trees loomed up before them. “This used to be the farm's front yard,” said Henry. “Emily and I live just past those oak trees.”

The animals walked between the trees—like passing through a huge, natural doorway—and came to a big hole in the ground. The sides had fallen in, especially the west side, opposite them, but they could see that the excavation must once have been square. “That's a pretty big hole for a little chipmunk like you!” said Tucker.

“Oh, that's not our house!” Henry laughed. “That's the cellar of the old farm house. Here's where
we
live!”

At one corner of the cellar grew a large clump of lilac bushes. Emily was sitting under them waiting for her guests. Good mornings were said all around, and then Emily led the way down a ledge where the dirt from one wall had collapsed. A few feet from the top a nice, dry little cave opened out on the left. And this was Henry and Emily's home. The animals all went in—except Harry. He was too big to fit in comfortably, so he sat on the ledge outside.

Emily had been expecting Tucker and Harry all summer long, and in order to give them something to eat she'd been saving fruit from the ruins on the farm's back-yard kitchen garden. First she'd saved strawberries; then, when they went out of season, raspberries; then blueberries; and now she was all the way up to peaches. It wasn't easy for the little chipmunk to wrestle a peach all the way around the cellar, down the ledge, and into her house—but she'd managed somehow. Very politely, and proudly too, she offered everyone some fruit. And naturally they all accepted.

“I wish you'd been able to come and visit us in the early spring, Mr. Mouse,” she said to Tucker. “The lilacs are beautiful when they're in bloom! The biggest bush up there is the deepest purple—you just can't imagine!” Emily was silent a moment, thinking about her favorite lilac. “When the meadow's—I mean, when we're not living here any more, it's going to be the lilacs that I miss most.”

An awkward pause fell. To break it Harry Cat switched his tail and said, “Tucker, you should see what's down in that cellar. It's almost as cluttered as the Hadleys' attic.”

Tucker crept out to the edge of the ledge. At first all he could see was the jumble of thickets and bushes that had taken root on the floor of the cellar. Then his eyes picked out what looked like fragments of furniture and the glint of broken glass. “Say, that's very interesting!” he said. “Emily, would you mind if I went down and scrounged awhile? It's been so long!”

“Go right ahead,” said the chipmunk.

“I'm going, too!” said Henry.

“You be careful, Henry,” his sister warned.

Chester stayed in the cave to talk to Emily, but Tucker, Harry, and Henry walked around the rim of the cellar to the west side where it was easier to descend. They scrambled and stumbled and tumbled their way until they were down on the cellar floor. Then began the delightful business of exploring in a ruin.

“That farm house must have been very old,” said Harry. “See this piece of glass? Those wavy lines in it are flaws. In the old days they didn't know how to make glass as well as they do now.” In his travels in New York, Harry had browsed through several antique shops, and he knew a lot about things like old glass.

“I think the whole place must have burned down,” said Henry. He had discovered the wreckage of an ancient wooden rocking chair. What was left of one arm was blackened and charred.

But Tucker made the most interesting discovery. He was burrowing under a wild rose bush that had taken root amid the rubble, and he came on the remains of a huge book of some kind. “Hey, come here!” he called to the others. Henry and Harry came over, and together all three hauled and pulled and managed to lift the book's cover. The page underneath was browned and half eaten away, as if it, too, had been burned by fire. And of course it had been soaked by the rains and snows of many years. But there was writing on that page, and it still was barely legible.

Harry Cat read the words:
Family Bible of Joseph Henry.

“He must have been the man who owned the farm!” exclaimed Henry.

“And he went off and left his family Bible,” said Tucker. “Can you beat that!”

“He probably thought it got burned in the fire,” said Harry.

They rummaged through the cellar for an hour or so. With the bushes and wild flowers growing amid the remains of things that had once been inside the farm house, it was like being indoors and outdoors at the same time—a funny feeling. Then Emily called down and said that Chester thought it was time to be going. The west bank was steeper than the three explorers had realized, however, and climbing up was much harder than coming down. Harry had to boost Tucker and Henry over the rim. But at last they were on level ground again.

Chester and Emily were waiting under the lilacs. “Did you have a nice time, Mr. Mouse?” asked the chipmunk.

“A very fine time,” said Tucker. “It's excellent scrounging ground down there!” He looked back into the cellar, at the jumble of old, lost human things that nature had reclaimed. “Fascinating, in fact!”

The others began to say goodbye, but Tucker continued gazing downward. His whiskers started to twitch, and he muttered something to himself.

“What did you say?” said Harry Cat.

“I didn't say anything,” said the mouse.

“Yes, you did,” said Harry.

“Oh, I was just thinking out loud,” said Tucker. “Joseph Henry, Joseph Hedley, Ellen Hadley. Hmm.” His whiskers were wiggling furiously—always a good sign. “Chester, that important man, Hedley, his first name
was
Joseph, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” said Chester. “Why?”

“No reason,” said Tucker. “And no one knows where he lived. Hmm.”

No one spoke. Then Harry said softly, “Tucker—what are you thinking?”

“I don't know what I'm thinking,” said Tucker Mouse. “But I'm thinking something. I've got to find out what it is.” He walked off by himself and began pacing back and forth.

“Do you think—” Chester started to speak.

But Harry lifted one paw. “Shh.”

The two chipmunks, the cat, and the cricket sat silent. Tucker Mouse had stopped his pacing and was pointing before him at something which wasn't there. Then he pointed at something else, which also wasn't there. And then, with a shout—
“I got it!”
—he jumped three feet straight up.

“I got it! I got it!” He came running back to the others.

In one voice Emily, Henry, Chester, and Harry all exclaimed,
“What?”

“No time to tell you now!” said Tucker Mouse. “Call all the animals! Everybody in the meadow! Pheasants, squirrels! The various and sundries, too! Get them all together down by Simon's Pool! As fast as you can! I'll explain it to everyone then! We've only got a single day! But the Old Meadow is saved!” He looked down into the cellar, eyes wide with excitement but shadowed by a bit of doubt. “At least maybe it's saved—I hope!”

ELEVEN

How to Build a Discovery

Like a wind, word spread through the meadow that the mouse from New York had another plan. From all quarters, animals streamed toward Simon's Pool. By noon a great crowd had collected around the log where the old turtle sunned himself. He was lying there now, waiting like the others to hear what Tucker had to say. The mouse jumped up on the log beside him and looked out over the upturned, expectant faces before him.

“Friends and meadow dwellers!” he began. “As you know, the ripping up of your home has already begun.” A groan went up from the assembly. “Those humans should only have known better!” said Tucker. “But just this morning I came down with an idea that still might work!”

“Hooray!” came a cry from the section where the sundry fieldmice were sitting.

“Save the ‘hoorays' till we're safe!” said Tucker. He went on to explain what had happened. “Just a little while ago we discovered that the farm house where Henry and Emily live had been the home of a man named Joseph Henry, and
I
got the idea that—”

“Joseph Henry!” exclaimed Simon Turtle. “Why, I haven't heard that name for—for—goodness, I can't even recollect how many years!”

“Very interesting, Mr. Turtle,” said Tucker, who was anxious to get on with his plan, “however, right now—”

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