TO MY MOTHER TO WHOM I OWE SO MUCH AND TO MY LITTLE SON WHOSE
LOVE OF STORIES INSPIRED THESE TALES THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS
Old Mother West Wind came down from the Purple Hills in the golden light of the early morning. Over her shoulders was slung a bag — a great big bag — and in the bag were all of Old Mother West Wind’s children, the Merry Little Breezes.
Old Mother West Wind came down from the Purple Hills to the Green Meadows and as she walked she crooned a song:
“Ships upon the ocean wait;
I must hurry, hurry on!
Mills are idle if I’m late;
I must hurry, hurry on.”
When she reached the Green Meadows Old Mother West Wind opened her bag, turned it upside down and shook it. Out tumbled all the Merry Little Breezes and began to spin round and round for very joy, for you see they were to lay in the Green Meadows all day long until Old Mother West Wind should come back at night and take them all to their home behind the Purple Hills.
First they raced over to see Johnny Chuck. They found Johnny Chuck sitting just outside his door eating his breakfast. One, for very mischief, snatched right out of Johnny Chuck’s mouth the green leaf of corn he was eating, and ran away with it. Another playfully pulled his whiskers, while a third rumpled up his hair.
Johnny Chuck pretended to be very cross indeed, but really he didn’t mind a bit, for Johnny Chuck loved the Merry Little Breezes and played with them everyday.
And if they teased Johnny Chuck they were good to him, too. When they saw Farmer Brown coming across the Green Meadows with a gun one of them would dance over to Johnny Chuck and whisper to him that Farmer Brown was coming, and then Johnny Chuck would hide away, deep down in his snug little house under ground, and Farmer Brown would wonder and wonder why it was that he never, never could get near enough to shoot Johnny Chuck. But he never, never could.
When the Merry Little Breezes left Johnny Chuck they raced across the Green Meadows to the Smiling Pool to say good morning to Grandfather Frog who sat on a big lily pad watching for green flies for breakfast.
“Chug-arum,” said Grandfather Frog, which was his way of saying good morning.
Just then along came a fat green fly and up jumped Grandfather Frog. When he sat down again on the lily pad the fat green fly was nowhere to be seen, but Grandfather Frog looked very well satisfied indeed as he contentedly rubbed his white waistcoat with one hand.
“What is the news, Grandfather Frog?” cried the Merry Little Breezes.
“Mrs. Redwing has a new speckled egg in her nest in the bulrushes,” said Grandfather Frog.
“We must see it,” cried the Merry Little Breezes, and away they all ran to the swamp where the bulrushes grow.