It's Wednesday.

Chapter 02: Mother Worries

DOWN in the Rabbit burrow Mother was worrying harder than usual. Any occurrence, good or bad, which upset the quiet order of Mother's days always brought on a fit of worry, and of course the present great excitement had resulted in a perfect frenzy. She had thought of every danger or unpleasantness which might accompany the arrival of new Folks and was now inventing new and unlikely ones. She had discussed the possibility of Dog, Cats, and Ferrets; of shotguns, rifles, and explosives; of traps and snares; of poisons and poison gases. There might even be Boys! She had repeated a horrid rumor which had circulated recently, concerning a man who had attached a hose to the exhaust pipe of his automobile and stuck it down folks' burrows. Several families were reported to have perished from this diabolical practice. "Now, Mother, now," Father had reassured her, "I have pointed out many times that their untimely fate was entirely due to their own negligence in allowing their emergency exits to become clogged with stored up foodstuffs. While a careful husbanding of food against the winter is a highly commendable custom, it is the height of folly to use one's emergency exit as a root cellar or a preserve closet. "Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately," he went on, eying their own bare shelves and empty cupboards, "our somewhat straitened circumstances of recent years have not permitted the accumulation of any great store of winter provender, so our exit has remained clear and in excellent repair at all times, although I must confess that you have occasionally exhibited on unfortunate tendency to clutter the passage with brooms, mops, buckets, and such unnecessary household implements. Just recently I experienced an extremely painful fall out there." Mother had promptly removed the buckets and brooms and was somewhat comforted, but she still turned pale whenever the east wind brought a whiff of exhaust smell from some passing car. She had also thought up the possibility that the newcomers might cut down and plow up the thicket where the burrow lay. This, Father admitted, was possible, but hardly probable. "In such an event," he said, "we should merely be forced to change our place of residence. Our present location down here in the hollow, although made dear through long association, is, at certain seasons of the year, indubitably damp, not to say wet. I have noted of late a slight tendency toward gout (a family inheritance) which might be greatly benefited by a removal to a somewhat more elevated location. I have long had my eye on a site up near the Pine Wood and, should such destructive activities on the part of new Folks necessitate a change of - residence, it would, I believe, be not without certain advantages." Mother burst into tears at the thought of leaving the old home, and Father hastily changed the subject to the possibility of Cats and Dogs. "As for Cats," he said, "the whole matter is merely one of proper parental discipline. As you are aware, children should be heard but not seen. If they are kept indoors until large enough to properly take care of themselves, if they are taught to be always observant and alert, the danger from Cats is practically negligible. The Cat's capacity for sustained speed is laughable, her only weapon is surprise, and, if I may be pardoned for saying so, I believe I have been successful in teaching all our children to avoid ever being surprised. "A few of the grand children, I regret to say, have been unduly pampered and allowed freedoms which were unknown in my day. The results of such parental indulgence have been swift and usually fatal. I hope, my son," he said, sternly glancing at Little Georgie, "I hope the lesson to be learned from the untimely feline ends of our grandchildren Minnie and Arthur, Wilfred, Sarah, Constance, Sarepta, Hogarth, and Clarence will not be lightly passed over by you. Little Georgie promised that it would not. The mention of the little lost ones started Mother crying again, so Father continued. (He always continued until something stopped him.) Insofar as I am concerned, Dogs might will prove a very welcome addition to our community. Those country louts belonging to the Fat-Manat-the-Crossroads are scarcely worthy of a gentleman's attention. I would really relish an occasional chase with a couple of highly bred hounds. Why down in the Bluegrass Country where I was reared-" "Yes, I know," Mother broke in, "I know about the Bluegrass Country, but there's Porkey. He's one of your closest friends - " "Porkey is a problem," Father admitted. "His foolish choice of a home site right up there in the very shadow of the Big House was most unwise, as I have often pointed out to him. Of course with the former tenants it didn't matter. He could have lived in their parlor for all they cared. But with the advent of-Dogs, his present location would be dangerous in the extreme. Should the personnel of the incoming menage include Dogs, I shall have to take up the matter with him again and be very firm." But Mother was having a good worry and refused to be distracted. "There's the spring housecleaning," she fretted. "I'd been planning to get at that this week, but what with all the goings on, folks running in and out, there just doesn't seem to be a chance. And there's Uncle Analdas, him living way up Danbury way and Mildred married and left him all alone and him getting old and what a state his burrow is in by now I can't imagine. I'd been counting on asking him down for the summer, spite of the food shortage. But now with new Folks coming and Dogs maybe and traps and snares and springguns or maybe poison, I just don't know - I just don't know-" "As a matter of fact," said Father, "I can think of no more propitious a time for your Uncle Analdas' visit, for several reasons. Item one: he is, as you point out, extremely lonely since Mildred's departure, hence a change of surroundings will doubtless prove highly beneficial. Item two: the food situation up Danbury way is, I understand, even more acute than ours; therefore, if our new Folks turn out to be planting people, as we have every reason to expect, his situation in respect to edibles will be vastly improved. In short, he will eat good. Item three: Uncle Analdas, being the oldest member of the family now extant, has had many years of experience with man and his ways. Should our newcomers prove to be difficult people, which I do not anticipate, but it is always well to consider every eventuality, his advice and counsel will prove invaluable in dealing with such problems as might arise. "Therefore I should advise sending for Uncle Analdas at once. I would be delighted to go myself were it not for the great number of pressing matters which will demand my attention here during the next few days. This being true, the duty must fall to Little Georgie." Little Georgie's heart leaped with excitement at the prospect, but he managed to lie quietly while Mother did a fresh bit of worrying and Father allayed her fears -as much as possible. After all, he was a pretty big boy now, he could run almost as East as Father, and he knew most of the tricks. For the past few months he had done all the marketing at the Fat-Man's-at-the-Crossroads, had easily avoided the Dogs, and crossed the Black Road safely twice each day. He knew the way to Uncle Analdas'- they had all gone up for Mildred's wedding last fall.. Why shouldn't he got of course he hated to miss a moment on the Hill with all that was going on, but a trip clear up Danbury way was exciting, and he would only be gone two days. Nothing much could happen in that time. As he drifted off to sleep he could hear Mother still worrying and Father talking on and on - and on - and on.