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It seemed to Ramona that there were little
bitty brown rabbits all over the H.C.! Everywhere she looked she saw another
one! They were very distracting! Just when she would get busy, one of them
would give a little lop and a hop and appear here, going there. They never
showed for long, just at the corner of her eye.
“Why are all these rabbits here? Don’t they know we eat rabbits around here?” said Ramona, running her fingers through her hair. “These are hardly worth bothering with though!”
Moving around the way they were doing, it was impossible to count them. Could be 2 or 3, could be a dozen. It was hard to nail down.
“They are not rabbits, Mama,” said Cherry, who was aloft up around a dozen feet, a good vantage point for keeping an eye on things. She wasn’t even trying to count them.
But Mama wasn’t listening. She had turned back to stir her big pot of fishy soup, and her long wooden spoon was nowhere to be seen.
If anyone had been listening to anyone, they would have heard some giggling, a bit like little bells clanging.
“Cherry, did you take my long spoon?” she asked in exasperation.
“No, Mama!” said Cherry, drifting down to her mother. “They took it!”
But once again, Mama wasn’t listening, because she had gone into the cave to find her knife to cut a small branch, to clean it up to make a makeshift stirring implement. There was no knife in the cave! It was just plain gone.
Ramona came back out and called her son to her with his special whistle. He came running.
“Did you take my knife, Twigg?” said she quite mildly. But her eyebrows were up in a certain way, which Twigg knew well.
“No, Mama, I didn’t take your knife,” said Twigg.
“It’s not in the cave, or out here, Twigg. It must be somewhere!” said Ramona.
“I don’t know, Mama!” said Twigg.
Just then a bunny appeared, giving them a wiggly nosed insolent look.
Quick as a bunny himself, Twigg grabbed the little beast by its ears. It promptly fell out of his one hand, because there were no ears! But his other hand was quick too, and it caught the little beast right about his mid-section.
“Put me down!” it squealed in a little ratty voice. Twigg did not. He knew better.
It wriggled and wiggled and squirmed. Twigg held steady.
It wasn’t a rabbit after all, at all. It had an angry little brown face, little hands and feet, a tiny plaid jacket and tiny green breeches. It had little pointy ears, but on the sides of its head in a normal location.
Twigg held on.
“Very well, you great beasts! Tell me my name and I will replace your precious spoon!” said the little wizened grimkin.
Cherry laughed. “Oh, it’s a game!”
“We’re not beasts!,” said Twigg, holding tightly to the squirmer.
“Lawrence,” said Ramona, who just wanted her spoon back.
“You only get a few guesses,” said the grimkin.
“Fidel,” said Twigg, hopefully.
It laughed. “If you don’t guess, you can even cook me, and I will never give it back!”
“Chekov,” said Ramona.
“No!” It said, laughing so hard that it might quit breathing.
“Your name is Bunny,” said Cherry, who was a very good guesser. A quiet, observant girl she was, who kept her eyes open, and her mouth mostly shut.
“Oh, damn,” said Bunny. “Look in your pot!”
Ramona looked in her pot, and lo, the long spoon was there just like it should be.
“Don’t let him go, Twigg,” she said. “I want my knife too!” Twigg maintained his grip.
“Blast and damn!” said Bunny. “I don’t like steel any better than iron. You’ll not get it back unless you tell me how we came to be here.”
This was a pauser. “Hm,” said Ramona. She frowned at Bunny and thought of various ways.
“You came down the river in a wicked little wooden boat,” said Ramona.
“Never!” said Bunny. “Ha, you’ll never guess.”
“You fell out of the trees,” said Twigg, hanging on to the squirmer.
“I did not!” said Bunny.
“Try, try, as hard as you can!” laughed Bunny. “You’re all as stupid as blocks of wood!”
“That doesn’t even rhyme,” said Cherry. “You’re a poor excuse for a Plaidie!”
“Pssst!” said Bunny. His eyes grew wide, and he forgot to giggle and chortle.
“You all came here from a hole in the ground.
One end here, and one end there!
Now, give it back!
And come no more!” sang Cherry in a strange little singsong tune.
“You can’t make me bring it back anyhow. I won’t!” said Bunny, laughing again.
“Maybe not,” said Twigg, “But just you wait!” And he whistled a long curly tone.
Berry and Bob came bounding up eagerly. Their green eyes were glowing, and they were smiling their fierce cat smiles.
“No, not that! Not stinking lions!” squealed Bunny, but Twigg had dropped him suddenly.
“You can have it back,” he said as Bob grabbed and shook him hard a few times.
Ramona’s knife appeared in her hand, as real as could be! She dropped it in amazement and then picked it up again.
Now, Ralph had been up at his log getting a few things done but thought it might be getting close to soup time down at the fire circle. So he ambled down the path to check the situation out. He found his family it a bit of disarray. And Bob was running around with some kind of small creature in his mouth, giving it a good shake now and then. The creature was squealing and begging. It also had a small plaid coat on.
“Hey, Mona,” said Ralph. “What’s up, Babe?”’
“Well, first there were rabbits! Then there was a Plaidie, just as rotten as the others,” said Ramona. “Then my spoon was missing, and then my knife went too!”
“Oh! Was there a guessing game?” said Ralph, a pretty good guesser himself.
“Yes, Daddy,” said Cherry. “I guessed him good, and he gave them back. But, now they need to go away, Daddy! Make all of them go away, Daddy!”
So, Ralph drew in long long mighty breath. He filled his broad chest! He closed his eyes and then let it out. It blew all across the Home Clearing. And though it was still impossible to count them, all of them tumbled together in a brown and green and red plaid tumble and rolled out to a spot near the river bank. Bob dropped Bunny so he rolled too.
In fact, they all looked a bit like dust balls rolling along together.
The one end of the hole was near a boulder on the riverbank, and into it they all blew and rolled together. Then the hole vanished.
“Thank you, Daddy,” said Cherry.
“Of course, Little One,” said Ralph.
“We may as well have soup, before it's spoiled,” said Ramona.
And so they did, cats and all.
Maeve was really sorry she missed this one when she heard about it. Evermore!
“Why are all these rabbits here? Don’t they know we eat rabbits around here?” said Ramona, running her fingers through her hair. “These are hardly worth bothering with though!”
Moving around the way they were doing, it was impossible to count them. Could be 2 or 3, could be a dozen. It was hard to nail down.
“They are not rabbits, Mama,” said Cherry, who was aloft up around a dozen feet, a good vantage point for keeping an eye on things. She wasn’t even trying to count them.
But Mama wasn’t listening. She had turned back to stir her big pot of fishy soup, and her long wooden spoon was nowhere to be seen.
If anyone had been listening to anyone, they would have heard some giggling, a bit like little bells clanging.
“Cherry, did you take my long spoon?” she asked in exasperation.
“No, Mama!” said Cherry, drifting down to her mother. “They took it!”
But once again, Mama wasn’t listening, because she had gone into the cave to find her knife to cut a small branch, to clean it up to make a makeshift stirring implement. There was no knife in the cave! It was just plain gone.
Ramona came back out and called her son to her with his special whistle. He came running.
“Did you take my knife, Twigg?” said she quite mildly. But her eyebrows were up in a certain way, which Twigg knew well.
“No, Mama, I didn’t take your knife,” said Twigg.
“It’s not in the cave, or out here, Twigg. It must be somewhere!” said Ramona.
“I don’t know, Mama!” said Twigg.
Just then a bunny appeared, giving them a wiggly nosed insolent look.
Quick as a bunny himself, Twigg grabbed the little beast by its ears. It promptly fell out of his one hand, because there were no ears! But his other hand was quick too, and it caught the little beast right about his mid-section.
“Put me down!” it squealed in a little ratty voice. Twigg did not. He knew better.
It wriggled and wiggled and squirmed. Twigg held steady.
It wasn’t a rabbit after all, at all. It had an angry little brown face, little hands and feet, a tiny plaid jacket and tiny green breeches. It had little pointy ears, but on the sides of its head in a normal location.
Twigg held on.
“Very well, you great beasts! Tell me my name and I will replace your precious spoon!” said the little wizened grimkin.
Cherry laughed. “Oh, it’s a game!”
“We’re not beasts!,” said Twigg, holding tightly to the squirmer.
“Lawrence,” said Ramona, who just wanted her spoon back.
“You only get a few guesses,” said the grimkin.
“Fidel,” said Twigg, hopefully.
It laughed. “If you don’t guess, you can even cook me, and I will never give it back!”
“Chekov,” said Ramona.
“No!” It said, laughing so hard that it might quit breathing.
“Your name is Bunny,” said Cherry, who was a very good guesser. A quiet, observant girl she was, who kept her eyes open, and her mouth mostly shut.
“Oh, damn,” said Bunny. “Look in your pot!”
Ramona looked in her pot, and lo, the long spoon was there just like it should be.
“Don’t let him go, Twigg,” she said. “I want my knife too!” Twigg maintained his grip.
“Blast and damn!” said Bunny. “I don’t like steel any better than iron. You’ll not get it back unless you tell me how we came to be here.”
This was a pauser. “Hm,” said Ramona. She frowned at Bunny and thought of various ways.
“You came down the river in a wicked little wooden boat,” said Ramona.
“Never!” said Bunny. “Ha, you’ll never guess.”
“You fell out of the trees,” said Twigg, hanging on to the squirmer.
“I did not!” said Bunny.
“Try, try, as hard as you can!” laughed Bunny. “You’re all as stupid as blocks of wood!”
“That doesn’t even rhyme,” said Cherry. “You’re a poor excuse for a Plaidie!”
“Pssst!” said Bunny. His eyes grew wide, and he forgot to giggle and chortle.
“You all came here from a hole in the ground.
One end here, and one end there!
Now, give it back!
And come no more!” sang Cherry in a strange little singsong tune.
“You can’t make me bring it back anyhow. I won’t!” said Bunny, laughing again.
“Maybe not,” said Twigg, “But just you wait!” And he whistled a long curly tone.
Berry and Bob came bounding up eagerly. Their green eyes were glowing, and they were smiling their fierce cat smiles.
“No, not that! Not stinking lions!” squealed Bunny, but Twigg had dropped him suddenly.
“You can have it back,” he said as Bob grabbed and shook him hard a few times.
Ramona’s knife appeared in her hand, as real as could be! She dropped it in amazement and then picked it up again.
Now, Ralph had been up at his log getting a few things done but thought it might be getting close to soup time down at the fire circle. So he ambled down the path to check the situation out. He found his family it a bit of disarray. And Bob was running around with some kind of small creature in his mouth, giving it a good shake now and then. The creature was squealing and begging. It also had a small plaid coat on.
“Hey, Mona,” said Ralph. “What’s up, Babe?”’
“Well, first there were rabbits! Then there was a Plaidie, just as rotten as the others,” said Ramona. “Then my spoon was missing, and then my knife went too!”
“Oh! Was there a guessing game?” said Ralph, a pretty good guesser himself.
“Yes, Daddy,” said Cherry. “I guessed him good, and he gave them back. But, now they need to go away, Daddy! Make all of them go away, Daddy!”
So, Ralph drew in long long mighty breath. He filled his broad chest! He closed his eyes and then let it out. It blew all across the Home Clearing. And though it was still impossible to count them, all of them tumbled together in a brown and green and red plaid tumble and rolled out to a spot near the river bank. Bob dropped Bunny so he rolled too.
In fact, they all looked a bit like dust balls rolling along together.
The one end of the hole was near a boulder on the riverbank, and into it they all blew and rolled together. Then the hole vanished.
“Thank you, Daddy,” said Cherry.
“Of course, Little One,” said Ralph.
“We may as well have soup, before it's spoiled,” said Ramona.
And so they did, cats and all.
Maeve was really sorry she missed this one when she heard about it. Evermore!
🤍
🌸
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