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III
SUSAN WALKER, WHAT A TALKER!

There was once a man whose wife was an awful talker. Her name was Susanna. No matter how important it was to keep a matter quiet, if Susanna knew about it, she just had to talk. She was always running to the neighbors and exclaiming:

“Oh, my dear, have you heard so and so?”

Her husband was an industrious fellow. He set nets in the river, he snared birds in the forest, and he worked at any odd jobs that came along.

It happened one day while he was out in the forest that he found a buried treasure.

“Ah!” he thought to himself, “now I can buy a little farm that will keep me and Susanna comfortable the rest of our days!”

He started home at once to tell his wife the good fortune that had befallen them. He had almost reached home when he stopped, suddenly realizing that the first thing Susanna would do would be to spread the news broadcast throughout the village. Then of course the government would get wind of his find and presently officers of the law would come and confiscate the entire treasure.

“That would never do,” he told himself. “I must think out some plan whereby I can let Susanna know about the treasure without risking the loss of it.”

He puzzled over the matter for a long time and at last hit upon something that he thought might prove successful.

In his nets that day he had caught a pike and in one of his snares he had found a grouse. He went back now to the river and put the bird in the fishnet, and then he went to the woods and put the fish in the snare. This done he went home and at once told Susanna about the buried treasure which was going to be the means of making their old age comfortable.

She flew at once into great excitement.

“La! La! A buried treasure! Whoever heard of such luck! Oh, how all the neighbors will envy us when they hear about it! I can hardly wait to tell them!”

“But they mustn’t hear!” her husband told her. “You don’t want the officers of the law coming and taking it all from us, do you?”

“That would be a nice how-do-you-do!” Susanna cried. “What! Come and take our treasure that you found yourself in the forest?”

“Yes, my dear, that’s exactly what they’d do if once they heard about it.”

“Well, you can depend upon it, my dear husband, not a soul will hear about it from me!”

She shook her head vigorously and repeated this many times and then tried to slip out of the house on some such excuse as needing to borrow a cup of meal from a neighbor.

But the man insisted on her staying beside him all evening. She kept remembering little errands that would take her to the houses of various neighbors but each time she attempted to leave her husband called her back. At last he got her safely to bed.

Early next morning, before she had been able to talk to any one, he said:

“Now, my dear, come with me to the forest and help me to carry home the treasure. On the way we’d better see if we’ve got anything in the nets and the snares.”

They went first to the river and when the man had lifted his nets they found a grouse which he made Susanna reach over and get. Then in the woods he let her make the discovery of a pike in one of the snares. She was all the while so excited about the treasure that she hadn’t mind enough left to be surprised that a bird should be caught in a fishnet and a fish in a birdsnare.

Well, they found the precious treasure and they stowed it away in two sacks which they carried home on their backs. On the way home Susanna could scarcely refrain from calling out to every passerby some hint of their good fortune. As they passed the house of Helmi, her dearest crony, she said to her husband:

“My dear, won’t you just wait here a moment while I run in and get a drink of water?”

“You mustn’t go in just now,” her husband said. “Don’t you hear what’s going on?”

There was the sound of two dogs fighting and yelping in the kitchen.

“Helmi is getting a beating from her husband,” the man said. “Can’t you hear her crying? This is no time for an outsider to appear.”

All that day and all that night he kept so close to Susanna that the poor woman wasn’t able to exchange a word with another human being.

Early next morning she escaped him and ran as fast as her legs could carry her to Helmi’s house.

“My dear,” she began all out of breath, “such a wonderful treasure as we’ve found but I’ve sworn never to whisper a word about it for fear the government should hear of it! I should have stopped and told you yesterday but your husband was beating you – ”

“What’s that?” cried Helmi’s husband who came in just then and caught the last words.

“It’s the treasure we’ve found!”

“The treasure? What are you talking about? Begin at the beginning.”

“Well, my old man and me we started out yesterday morning and first we went to the river to see if there was anything in the nets. We found a grouse – ”

“A grouse?”

“Yes, we found a grouse in the nets. Then we went to the forest and looked in the snares and in one we found a pike.”

“A pike!”

“Yes. Then we went and dug up the treasure and put it in two sacks and you could have seen us yourself carrying it home on our backs but you were too busy beating poor Helmi.”

“I beating poor Helmi! Ho! Ho! Ho! That is a good one! I was busy beating my wife while you were getting birds out of fishnets and fish out of snares! Ho! Ho! Ho!”

“It’s so!” Susanna cried. “It is so! You were so beating Helmi! And you sounded just like two dogs fighting! And we did so carry home the treasure!”

But Helmi’s husband only laughed the harder. That afternoon when he went to the Inn he was still laughing and when the men there asked him what was so funny he told them Susanna’s story and soon the whole village was laughing at the foolish woman who found birds in fishnets and fish in snares and who thought that two yelping dogs were Helmi and her husband fighting.

As for the treasure that wasn’t taken any more seriously than the grouse and the pike.

“It must have been two sacks of turnips they carried home on their backs!” the village people decided.

The husband of course said nothing and Susanna, too, was soon forced to keep quiet for now whenever she tried to explain people only laughed.

MIKKO, THE FOX

ADVENTURE I
THE ANIMALS TAKE A BITE

A Farmer once dug a pit to trap the Animals that had been stealing his grain. By a strange chance he fell into his own pit and was killed.

The Ermine found him there.

“H’m,” thought the Ermine, “that’s the Farmer himself, isn’t it? I better take him before any one else gets him.”

So the Ermine dragged the Farmer’s body out of the pit, put it on a sledge, and then, after taking a bite, began hauling it away.

Presently he met the Squirrel who clapped his hands in surprise.

“God bless you, brother!” the Squirrel exclaimed, “what’s that you’re hauling behind you?”

“It’s the Farmer himself,” the Ermine explained. “He fell into the pit that he had digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him and then come along and help me pull.”

“Very well,” the Squirrel said.

He took a bite of the Farmer and then marched along beside the Ermine, helping him to pull the sledge.

Presently they met Jussi, the Hare. Jussi looked at them in amazement, his eyes popping out of his head.

“Mercy me!” he cried, “what’s that you two are hauling?”

“It’s the Farmer,” the Ermine explained. “He fell into the pit that he digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him, Jussi, and then come along and help us pull.”

So Jussi, the Hare, took a bite of the Farmer and then marched along beside the Ermine and the Squirrel helping them to pull the sledge.

Next they met Mikko, the Fox.

“Goodness me!” Mikko said, “what’s that you three are hauling?”

The Ermine again explained:

“It’s the Farmer. He fell into the pit that he had digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him, Mikko, and then come along and help us pull.”

So Mikko, the Fox, took a bite and then marched along beside the Ermine and the Squirrel and the Hare helping them to pull the sledge.

Next they met Pekka, the Wolf.

“Good gracious!” Pekka cried, “what’s that you four are hauling?”

The Ermine explained:

“It’s the Farmer. He fell into the pit that he had digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him, Pekka, and then help us pull.”

So Pekka, the Wolf, took a bite and then marched along beside the Ermine, the Squirrel, the Hare, and the Fox, helping them to pull the sledge.

Next they met Osmo, the Bear.

“Good heavens!” Osmo rumbled, “what’s that you five are hauling?”

“It’s the Farmer,” the Ermine explained. “He fell into the pit that he had digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him, Osmo, and then help us pull.”

So Osmo, the Bear, took a bite and then marched along beside the Ermine, the Squirrel, the Hare, the Fox, and the Wolf, helping them to pull the sledge.

Well, they pulled and they pulled and whenever they felt tired or hungry they stopped and took a bite until the Farmer was about finished.

Then Pekka, the Wolf, said:

“See here, brothers, we’ve eaten up every bit of the Farmer except his beard. What are we going to eat now?”

Osmo, the Bear, grunted out:

“Huh! That’s easy! We’ll eat the smallest of us next!”

He had no sooner spoken than the Squirrel ran up a tree and the Ermine slipped under a stone.

Pekka, the Wolf said:

“But the smallest have escaped!”

Osmo, the Bear, grunted again:

“Huh! The smallest now is that pop-eyed Jussi! Let’s – ”

At mention of his name the Hare went loping across the field and was soon at a safe distance.

Osmo, the Bear, put his heavy paw on the Fox’s shoulder.

“Mikko,” he said, “it’s your turn now for you’re the smallest of us three.”

Mikko, the Fox, pretended not to be at all afraid.

“That’s true,” he said, “I’m the smallest. All right, brothers, I’m ready. But before you eat me I wish you’d take me to the top of the hill. Down here in the valley it’s so gloomy.”

“Very well,” the others agreed, “we’ll go where you say. It is more cheerful there.”

As they climbed the hill the Fox whispered to the Wolf:

“Sst! Pekka! When you eat me whose turn will it be then? Who will be the smallest then?”

“Mercy me!” the Wolf cried, “it will be my turn then, won’t it?”

The terror of the thought quite took his appetite away.

“See here, Osmo,” he said to the Bear, “I don’t think it would be right for us to eat Mikko. You and I and Mikko ought to be friends and live together in peace. Now let’s take a vote on the matter and we’ll do whatever the majority says. I vote that we three be friends. What do you say, Mikko?”

The Fox said that he agreed with the Wolf. It would be much better all around if they three were friends.

“Well,” grunted Osmo, the Bear, “it’s no use my voting for you two make a majority. But I must say I’m sorry to have you vote this way for I’m hungry.”

So the three animals, the Bear, the Wolf, and the Fox, agreed henceforward to be friends and planned to live near each other in the woods behind the Farm.

ADVENTURE II
THE PARTNERS

The Bear and the Wolf and the Fox made houses quite close together and the Wolf and the Fox decided to go into partnership.

“The first thing we ought to do,” said Pekka, the Wolf, “is make a clearing in the forest and plant some crops.”

The Fox agreed and the very next day they started out to work. Each had a crock with three pats of butter for his dinner. They left their crocks in the cool water of a little spring in the forest not far from the place where they had decided to make a clearing.

It was hard work felling trees and the Fox, soon tiring of it, made some sort of excuse to run off. When he came back he said to the Wolf:

“Pekka, the folks at the Farm are having a christening and have sent me an invitation to attend.”

“It’s too bad we’re so busy to-day,” the Wolf said. “Another day you might have gone.”

“But I must go,” the Fox insisted. “They’ve been good neighbors to us and they’d be insulted if I refused.”

“Very well,” the Wolf said, “if you feel that way about it you better go. But hurry back for we have a lot to do.”

So the Fox trotted off but he got no farther than the spring where the butter crocks were cooling. He took the Wolf’s crock and licked off the top layer of butter. Then after a while he went back to the clearing.

“Well, Mikko,” the Wolf said, “is the christening over?”

“Yes, it’s over.”

“What did they name the child?”

“They named it Top.”

“Top? That’s a strange name!”

In a few moments the Fox again ran off and returned with the announcement that there was to be another christening at the Farm and again they wanted him to attend.

“Another christening!” the Wolf exclaimed. “How can that be?”

“This time the daughter has a baby.”

“You’re not going, are you, Mikko? You can’t always be going to christenings.”

“That’s true, Pekka, that’s true,” said the Fox, “but I think I must go this time.”

The Wolf sighed.

“You will hurry back, won’t you? This work is too much for me alone.”

“Yes, Pekka dear,” the Fox promised, “I’ll hurry back as quickly as I can.”

So he trotted off again to the spring and the Wolf’s butter crock. This time he ate the middle pat of the Wolf’s butter, then slowly sauntered back to the clearing.

“Well,” said the Wolf, pausing a moment in his work, “what did they name the baby this time?”

“This one they named Middle.”

“Middle? That’s a strange name to give a baby!”

For a few moments the Fox pretended to work hard. Then he ran off again. When he came back, he said:

“Pekka, do you know they’re having another christening at the Farm and they say that I just must come.”

“Another christening! Now, Mikko, that’s too much! How can they be having another christening?”

“Well, this time it’s the daughter-in-law that has a baby.”

“I don’t care who it is,” the Wolf said, “you just can’t go. You’ve got some work to do, you have!”

The Fox agreed:

“You’re right, Pekka, you’re right! I’m entirely too busy to be running off all the time to christenings! I’d say, ‘No!’ in a minute if it wasn’t that we are new settlers and they are our nearest neighbors. As it is I’m afraid they’d think it wasn’t neighborly if I didn’t come. But I’ll hurry back, I promise you!”

So for the third time the Fox trotted off to the little spring and this time he licked the Wolf’s butter crock clean to the bottom. Then he went slowly back to the clearing and told the Wolf about the christening and the baby.

“They’ve named this one Bottom,” he said.

“Bottom!” the Wolf echoed. “What funny names they give children nowadays!”

The Fox pretended to work hard for a few minutes, then threw himself down exhausted.

“Heigh ho!” he said, with a yawn, “I’m so tired and hungry it must be dinner time!”

The Wolf looked at the sun and said:

“Yes, I think we had better rest now and eat.”

So they went to the spring and got their butter crocks. The Wolf found that his had already been licked clean.

“Mikko!” he cried, “have you been at my butter?”

“Me?” the Fox said in a tone of great innocence. “How could I have been at your butter when you know perfectly well that I’ve been working right beside you all morning except when I was away at the christenings? You must have eaten up your butter yourself!”

“Of course I haven’t eaten it up myself!” the Wolf declared. “I just bet anything you took it!”

The Fox pretended to be much aggrieved.

“Pekka, I won’t have you saying such a thing! We must get at the bottom of this! I tell you what we’ll do: we’ll both lie down in the sun and the heat of the sun will melt the butter and make it run. Now then, if butter runs out of my nose then I’m the one that has eaten your butter; if it runs out of your nose, then you’ve eaten it yourself. Do you agree to this test?”

The Wolf said, yes, he agreed, and at once lay down in the sun. He had been working so hard that he was very tired and in a few moments he was sound asleep. Thereupon the Fox slipped over and daubed a little lump of butter on the end of his nose. The sun melted the butter and then, of course, it looked as if it were running out of the Wolf’s nose.

“Wake up, Pekka! Wake up!” the Fox cried. “There’s butter running out of your nose!”

The Wolf awoke and felt his nose with his tongue.

“Why, Mikko,” he said in surprise, “so there is! Well, I suppose I must have eaten that butter myself but I give you my word for it I don’t remember doing it!”

“Well,” said the Fox, pretending still to feel hurt, “you shouldn’t always suspect me.”

When they went back to the clearing, the Wolf began pulling the brush together to burn it up and the Fox slipped away and lay down behind some brushes.

“Mikko! Mikko!” the Wolf called. “Aren’t you going to help me burn the brush?”

“You set it a-fire,” the Fox called back, “and I’ll stay here to guard against any flying sparks. We don’t want to burn down the whole forest!”

So the Wolf burned up all the brush while the Fox took a pleasant nap.

Then when he was ready to plant the seed in the rich wood ashes, the Wolf again called out to the Fox to come help him.

“You do the planting, Pekka,” the Fox called back, “and I’ll stay here and frighten off the birds. If I don’t they’ll come and pick up every seed you plant.”

So Mikko, the rascal, took another nap while the poor Wolf planted the field he had already cleared and burned.

ADVENTURE III
THE FOX AND THE CROW

In a short time the field that Pekka, the Wolf, had planted began to sprout. Pekka was delighted.

“See, Mikko,” he said to the Fox, “our grain is growing and we shall soon be harvesting it!”

The Fox turned up his nose indifferently.

“If we don’t get something to eat before that grain ripens,” he said, “we’ll starve, both of us! While we wait for the harvest I think we better go out hunting. I’m going this minute for I tell you I’m hungry!”

The Fox went sniffing into the forest and finally came to the tree where Harakka, the Magpie, had her nest. The Fox, cocking his head, paced slowly round and round the tree, looking at it from every angle. Harakka, the Magpie, sitting on her nest among her fledglings began to feel nervous.

“Say, Mikko,” she called down, “what are you looking at?”

At first the Fox made no answer. Deep in thought, apparently, he nodded his head and murmured:

“Yes, the very tree!”

Harakka, the Magpie, again called down:

“What are you looking at, Mikko?”

The Fox started as though he had heard the question for the first time.

“Ah, Harakka, is that you? Good day to you! I hope you are well! I hope the children are all well! I was so busy looking for the right tree that I didn’t recognize you at first. You see I have to cut down a tree to get wood for a new pair of skis. This tree is just the one I want.”

“Oh, mercy me!” the Magpie cried. “You can’t cut down this tree! Do you want to kill all my children? This is our home!”

Mikko, the rascal, pretended to be very sympathetic.

“I’m awfully sorry to have to disturb you, truly I am, but I’m afraid I do have to cut down this tree. I can’t find another that suits me as well.”

The Magpie flapped her wings in despair.

“You hard-hearted wretch! What will you take not to cut down this tree?”

The Fox put his paw to his head and pretended to think hard. After a moment he said:

“Well, Harakka, I’ll make you this offer: I’ll leave this tree standing provided you throw me down one of your fledglings.”

“What!” the poor Magpie shrieked. “Give you one of my babies! I’ll never do that! Never! Never! Never!”

“Oh, very well! Just as you like! If I cut the tree down I can get them all. But I thought for the sake of old times I’d ask for only one. However, do as you think best.”

What could the poor Magpie say? If the tree were felled and her fledglings thrown out of the nest they would certainly all perish. Perhaps it would be wise to sacrifice one to save the rest.

“You promise to let the tree stand,” she said, “if I give you one of my children?”

“Yes,” the rascal promised, “just drop me one of your fledglings, a nice plump one, and I won’t cut down the tree.”

With shaking claw Harakka pushed one of her children over the edge of the nest. It fluttered to the ground and Mikko carried it off.

Well, the next day what did that Fox do but come back and begin pacing around the tree again.

“Yes,” he said, pretending to talk to himself, “this is the best tree I can find. I might as well cut it down at once.”

“But, Mikko!” cried the Magpie, “you forget! You said you wouldn’t cut down this tree if I gave you one of my children and I did give you one!”

The Fox flipped his tail indifferently.

“I know,” he said, “I did promise but I thought then I could find another tree that would suit me as well as this one, but I can’t. I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t. I’m sorry but I’m afraid that I’ll just have to take this tree.”

“O dear, O dear, O dear!” the poor distracted Magpie wept. “Will nothing make you leave this tree stand?”

The Fox smacked his lips.

“Well, Harakka, drop me down another of your fledglings and I won’t disturb the tree. I promise.”

“What! Another of my babies! Oh, you wretch!”

“Well, suit yourself,” Mikko said. “One of your fledglings and you can keep the others safe in the nest, or I’ll cut the tree down.”

What could the poor Magpie do? Wouldn’t it be better to sacrifice another fledgling on the chance of saving the rest? Yes, it would! So she pushed another out of the nest. It fluttered to the ground and Mikko, the rascal, carried it off.

That afternoon Varis, the Crow, came to call on the Magpie.

“Why, my dear,” she said, looking over the fledglings, “two of your children are missing! Whatever has become of them?”

“It’s that rascally Mikko!” the Magpie cried, and thereupon she told her friend the whole story.

Varis, the Crow, listened carefully and then said:

“My dear, that miserable Fox has been fooling you! Why, he can’t cut down this tree or any other tree for that matter! He hasn’t even got an ax! Don’t let him impose on you a third time!”

So the very next day when the Fox came and again tried the same little trick, Harakka, the Magpie, tossed her head scornfully and said:

“Go along, you rascal! You can’t fool me again! How can you cut down this tree or any other for that matter when you haven’t even got an ax!”

The Fox was furious at being cheated of his dinner.

“You didn’t think that out yourself, Harakka!” he said. “Some one’s been talking to you! Who was it?”

“It was my dear friend, Varis,” the Magpie said. “She’s on to your tricks!”

“I’ll teach that Crow to interfere with my affairs!” the Fox muttered to himself as he trotted off.

He went to an open field and lay down with his mouth open, pretending to be dead.

“I’m sure Varis will soon spy me!” he said to himself.

He was right. Presently the Crow began circling above him. She flew nearer and nearer and at last alighted on his head. His tongue was lolling out and Varis decided to have her first bite there. She gave it a sharp peck at which the Fox jumped up and caught her in his paws.

“Ha! Ha!” he cried. “So you’re the one who spoiled my little game with Harakka, are you? Well, I’ll teach you not to interfere with me! As I haven’t got one of Harakka’s fledglings for my dinner, I’m going to take you!”

“You don’t mean you’re going to eat me!” cried the Crow in terror.

“That’s exactly what I mean!”

“No, no, Mikko! Don’t do that!”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do! I’m going to teach you birds that I’m not an animal to be played jokes on!”

“I suppose,” the Crow said, sighing, “if it must be, it must be! But, Mikko, if you really want to use me as a warning to the other birds, you oughtn’t to eat me right down. It would be much better if you dragged me along the ground first. Then they’d see a wing here, a leg there, and a long trail of feathers. That really would terrify them.”

“I believe you’re right,” the Fox said.

He put the Crow down on the ground and lifted his paw for a moment to change his hold. The Crow instantly jerked away and escaped.

“Ha! Ha!” she cawed as she flew off. “You were clever enough to catch me, Mikko, but you weren’t clever enough to eat me when you had me!”

So this was one time when Mikko, the Fox, was worsted.