XI
WHERE OLD MR. GOBBLER GOT THE STRUTTING HABIT
Peter Rabbit never will forget the first time he saw Big Tom Gobbler. Itwas very early one spring morning, when Peter was not yet old enough tohave made the acquaintance of all the people who live in the GreenForest, and when it seemed as if the chief thing in life with him was tosatisfy his curiosity about the ways of the Great World. Several timeswhen he had been hopping along, lipperty-lipperty-lip, through the GreenForest just after sun-up, he had heard a strange sound quite unlike anyother of all the many sounds his long ears had learned to know. He knewthat it was the voice of some one who lived in the Green Forest, butthough he had looked and looked he had been unable to discover the ownerof that voice.
On this particular morning Peter happened to be sitting under some fernson the edge of a little open space among the trees when again he heardthat strange voice. It seemed to come from somewhere back in the woodsin the very direction from which he had just come. "Gobble-obble-obble!"said the voice, and again a moment later "Gobble-obble-obble!"
Peter was just preparing to go back to see if he could find the owner ofthat voice when the noise of great wings caused him to look up just intime to see a bigger bird than he ever had even dreamed of comingswiftly over the tree-tops. With his eyes popping out and his mouth wideopen with astonishment, Peter saw the great bird set its wings and saildown into the little opening on the edge of which Peter was sitting. Theinstant this great bird was on the ground, he stood as still as if hewere made of stone, his long neck stretched up. Only the shine of a pairof the sharpest eyes Peter ever had seen showed that he was alive.
Peter held his breath, and it was so still that you could have heard aleaf drop had you been there. When at last the stranger moved, it washis head only. He turned it suddenly to the right and a moment later tothe left. It was plain that he was listening for suspicious sounds. Allthe time his bright eyes searched the edge of the opening until Peter,although he was well hidden, felt that he must be seen. At last,satisfied that all was safe, the stranger drew in his neck and began towalk about, pecking at the ground here and there and swallowing what hepicked up, though what it was Peter couldn't tell.
A sound seemed to catch the stranger's quick ears, for he stopped andstared very hard at a little clump of brush. Peter stared at it too. Atfirst he saw nothing, but presently he saw a head poked out, and thisalso was a stranger. Peter glanced at the big stranger in the opening,and for a minute he wondered if it could be that something was wrongwith his eyes. Never had he seen such a change in anybody. This strangerdidn't look like the same bird at all. He was swelled up until Peter wasafraid he would burst. His tail was spread out like a great fan. Hishead was laid back on his humped shoulders. His wings were dropped untilthe stiffly spread feathers brushed the ground. His head and neck wereas red as blood, and there were no feathers on either. All the feathersof his body were ruffed out so that the sun shone on them and made themshimmer and shine in colors that seemed to constantly change.
Back and forth in front of the brush from which the other stranger waspeeping very shyly this great bird strutted. He would stand still sothat the sun would fall full on his shining coat and show it off to thebest advantage, and at the same time he would draw in a great deal ofair and then puff it out all at once. Then he would walk a few steps,turn, drag his wings on the ground to make them rustle, wheel, and runa few steps. Never had Peter seen such vanity, such conceit, suchimposing, puffed-up pride. He watched until he grew tired, and then hestole away and hurried over to the Smiling Pool to tell Grandfather Frogall about it and ask who these strangers were.
"Chug-a-rum!" exclaimed Grandfather Frog, opening his big mouth verywide to laugh at Peter and his excitement. "That was Big Tom Gobbler,and he was doing all that for the benefit of Mrs. Gobbler, who washiding in that brush. It was her head you saw. Big Tom is the mostconceited fellow in the Green Forest. He dearly loves to strut. He isjust like his father and his grandfather and his great-grandfather. TheGobblers never have gotten over strutting since Old Mr. Gobbler, thefirst of the family, got the habit."
"Tell me about it. Please, Grandfather Frog, tell me about it," beggedPeter. "How did Old Mr. Gobbler get the habit?"
Grandfather Frog chuckled. "He got it from admiring his own reflectionin a pool of water," said he. "You see, in those days way back when theworld was young, people had more time to form habits than they do now.With plenty to eat and little to do, they had more time to think aboutthemselves than they do now. Old Mr. Gobbler soon discovered that he wasthe biggest of all the birds in that part of the Great World where helived, and this discovery was, I suspect, the beginning of his vanity.Then one day as he was walking along, he came to a little pool of water.It was very clear, and there wasn't a ripple on the surface. There forthe first time Mr. Gobbler saw his reflection. The more he looked, thebetter he liked his own appearance. He spread his tail just to see howit would look in the water. Then he puffed himself out and strutted.
"'There is nobody to compare with me,' thought he, and strutted morethan ever.
"After that he used to steal away every day to admire himself in thatlittle pool of water. He tried new ways of strutting and of puffinghimself out. After a while he was no longer content to admire himself.He wanted others to admire him. So the first chance he got he began tostrut and show off all his grand airs before Mrs. Gobbler. At first shepaid no attention to him. At least that is the way she appeared. Shewould turn her back on him and walk off into the bushes. This made OldMr. Gobbler very angry until he discovered that she would tiptoe backand watch him admiringly when she thought he didn't know it. That madehim strut all the more.
"At first all the neighbors used to gather around and admire him andtell him how handsome he was until his head was quite turned, as thesaying is, and he spent most of his time strutting and showing off. Thenhe took to bragging and boasting that there was no bird to compare withhim. Thus he became quite unbearable, and all his neighbors would turntheir backs on him when they saw him coming. Only Mrs. Gobbler continuedto watch in secret and to admire him.
"Now in those days Mr. Gobbler didn't have a red head and neck. One dayOld Mother Nature happened along when Mr. Gobbler was strutting andboasting how big and brave he was. He didn't see her, and she watchedhim quietly for a few minutes. Then she slipped away and hunted up Mr.Wolf.
"'I want you to steal over where Mr. Gobbler is strutting,' said she,'and suddenly spring out at him as if you intended to catch him.'
"Mr. Wolf grinned and trotted off to do her bidding. He found Mr.Gobbler swelled up until he looked as if he must burst, and bragging toMrs. Gobbler.
"'I'm the biggest of all the birds,' bragged Mr. Gobbler. 'I'm afraid ofno one. While you have me with you, my dear, you have nothing in all theGreat World to fear.'
"Just then out sprang Mr. Wolf with all his long, sharp teeth showing.Mr. Gobbler gave a yelp of fright. He lost his swelled-up appearance assuddenly as a bubble flattens out when it is pricked. With a franticbeating of his wings he took to the air. Being in such a fright, hedidn't see where he was going, and struck his head against a sharp twig,which tore the skin, for there were no feathers to protect it, and madeit bleed. The blood ran all over his head and down his neck, though hereally was hardly hurt at all. From the top of a tall tree he lookeddown. There stood Old Mother Nature, looking up at him.
"'Mr. Gobbler,' said she, 'you have acquired a bad habit, a very badhabit. Hereafter, whenever you become vain and strut, your head and neckshall become as red as they now are, as a reminder to you and all whosee you of how silly it is to be vain and boastful.'
"And so it was. And so it is with Big Tom Gobbler to this day. There isnothing in the world more foolish than vanity," concluded GrandfatherFrog.
"Don't call me Striped Chipmunk, and don't call meGopher!" said he. _Page 172._]
Mother West Wind Where Stories Page 11
