Chapter 4
Section 4 of Father Thrift and His Animal Friends. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Katie T. in Ontario, January 2025. Father Thrift and His Animal Friends by Joseph C. Sindler.
The Sweetest Thing in the Forest. Robins, crows, and blackbirds. and the little raindrops. The sweetest thing in the forest. Father Thrift spent the next few days in making wooden pails in which to gather the maple sap. What a lot of measuring and sawing and fitting and finishing it takes to make a few pails. Shaggy Bear helped as much as he could,
but bears are such clumsy things. Finally, one day, Father Thrift said to Shaggy, Now everything is ready. We have our spouts with which to draw the sap from the trees. And we have the wooden pails and some earthen crocks I made from clay last summer in which to gather it. There is a large iron kettle we will use for boiling the sap down into syrup and sugar.
Tomorrow we will tap our trees. Why tomorrow? asked the bear. That seems too long to wait. Why not today? Because, replied Father Thrift, everything depends on time. There isn't time enough left today.
Tomorrow we will start work real early. And to get up early tomorrow, we must get to bed early tonight. I don't see how I shall be able to sleep at all, grumbled the bear. But in a few moments, he was fast asleep where he sat. He was a funny fellow.
Still, Father Thrift did not mind. he liked the quiet. When it was quiet, he could think. In that, he was quite different from many people who like only to talk. And he thought to himself, suppose that each person wastes one hour a day, a hundred days, a hundred hours, multiplied that by the number of people in the world, but the figures were too large even for Father Thrift to count up. If everyone would use that
hour each day in reading a good book, or in thinking, or in doing something else that is useful. How much better the world would be in another hundred years! Father Thrift sat and thought for a whole hour. Then he waked the bear and each went to his own bed to rest for the night. What a funny sight it was! A man and a bear sleeping side by side in the same room. Early the next morning, Father Thrift and the bear went to the maple grove to tap their trees.
Father Thrift bored holes in the tree trunks. Then he pounded a little spout into each hole for the sap to run through. As they had no handles on their pails and crocks, they could not hang them on the spouts. Instead, they set them down in the snow under the spouts. The sun was getting warm and was drawing up the sap from the roots of the tree into its branches.
Soon you could hear it drip, drip, dripping into the pails and the crocks. Shaggy Bear was too astonished to talk. He put out his paw and a great drop of shining yellow maple sap fell on it. Then he licked his paw. Then he grunted a funny bear grunt of surprise and pleasure.
Mmm, it was good. It was sweet, truly, and what a delicious flavor it had. The bear put out his paw again and again, and how he did lick the sap off it. My oh my, it was sweet. Not even the honey of the bee tasted so good. It was like nothing else in the whole forest. Meanwhile, Father Thrift was arranging his kettle and pans and building a fire.
Now let us pour all the sap into one pail, he said, and perhaps we shall have enough to start boiling. Oh, but that may spoil it, cried Shaggy Bear. The sap is made sweeter by boiling, said Father Thrift, but the bear did not see how that could be. When the sap began to boil, Father Thrift told Shaggy to stir it so that it would not burn. Suddenly, the bear began jumping about and crying,
Father Thrift, come here, come here. Father Thrift ran over to see what had happened. Shaggy was all excitement. Look, he cried, look in the kettle. We had much there.
Now we have a little. I told you the fire would spoil it. No, replied Father Thrift smilingly. The fire has not spoiled anything. When the sap boils, the water in it goes away in steam.
And the longer it boils, the more the water goes away. This time we will not let it boil so very long, and then we shall have syrup. But the next kettle of sap we will boil longer, and then we shall have maple sugar. When the syrup grew thick, Father Thrift said, Taste.
And the bear tasted. Oh, Father Thrift, he cried in delight. It is the best thing I have ever tasted. Truly, the boiling improves it. Then, when the maple sugar was done, Father Thrift called Shaggy.
Taste this, he said. Ah, how good it was. Nothing like it had ever gone into Shaggy Bear's mouth before. Never had he tasted such sweetness. And oh, what a wonderful meal they had that night.
Father Thrift made golden corn cakes, and he and Shaggy ate the hot cakes with fresh maple syrup poured over them. The bear grew thoughtful after supper. Now I know why I used to get into so much trouble, he said. I have had too much idle time on my hands. After this, I will work hard and learn. I think I could help you a lot, Father Thrift.
Will you let me stay if I do? I shall be glad to have you stay always, said Father Thrift. And the bear was so overjoyed at what Father Thrift said that he cried. Robins, crows, and blackbirds. A soft little breeze was blowing.
It was warm and it had in it the smell of green things growing. Trees and buds and grass and flowers. Little birds were singing, and they had joy and gladness in their voices, and the colors of the rainbow were in their feathers. Little brooks were flowing, flowing and growing into rivers.
They sparkled in the merry sunshine, and their laughter could be heard everywhere they went. The whole forest was glad. Why? Because it was spring, merry spring, and spring is the gladdest, happiest time of all the year. Father Thrift was plowing his garden and Shaggy Bear was helping him. And do you know how they worked together?
Father Thrift held the handles of the plow and Shaggy pulled it. He was the horse, a funnier sight you have never seen. The ground was hard, so then no seed could grow in it. Father Thrift turned the earth over with his plow. This loosened the soil and made it soft.
The robins followed the plow and found nice large angleworms for their breakfast. Then they sang this song. Cheerily cheer up, cheerily cheer up, cheerily cheer. We're glad you're here. Little fat worms, oh cheerily cheer up, cheerily cheer. We're glad you're here.
But the little fat worms only turned and squirmed. They sang no song at all. The crows and the blackbirds followed Father Thrift too. They ate the grub worms and the beetles and other insects which they found. Then when the ground was ready, Father Thrift and Shaggy Bear planted the seeds. The robins did not follow them now, but the crows and the blackbirds did. And do you know what they were doing? They were eating the seeds almost as fast
as Father Thrift and Shaggy dropped them into the ground. Father Thrift stopped in his work. Crows and blackbirds, he said. You must not do that. Why? asked one old crow. We always have done it. Yes, I know you have, replied Father Thrift, and that is what has given you such a bad name with the farmer. By eating the seed or pulling up sprouting corn, you spoil the crop, and so you have less food for yourselves in the end. How is that? asked Cousin Blackbird. Well, explained
Father Thrift, every grain of corn you eat now would make ears of corn if you let it stay in the ground to grow. And of every ear of corn grown, some kernels are left in the field in the shocking so that for every kernel not eaten now, you would have many kernels in the autumn. Besides, If you will keep the bad bugs and worms and grasshoppers out of my garden, I promise to give you every tenth ear of all the corn I grow.
Then the crows got together, and all you could hear from them was a loud caw, caw, caw. But they must have agreed that Father Thrift's proposal was a fair one. The old crow spoke for all the crows. He said,
We will do as you ask, Father Thrift. We wish all farmers were as reasonable with us. We help the farmer, but we get no credit for it. We eat many, many grasshoppers and beetles and worms and caterpillars and weevils every year. These would be at work destroying the farmer's crop if we did not eat them.
And for all that, the farmer is always chasing and killing us. No, said Father Thrift. The farmer does not dislike you for the good you do. He dislikes you for the harm you do. Your bad habits make you unpopular. Why don't you give them up? Caw, caw, caw, cried all the crows. I suppose they meant yes, yes, yes. But whether or not they meant what they said, I don't know.
As for the blackbirds, whatever was agreeable to the crows was satisfactory to them. And they flew away singing, Conquery, Conquery. And as Father Thrift and Shaggy Bear sat down under a tree to rest, Mr. Robin sang a song from the topmost bow.
It was like this. Cheerily cheer up, cheerily cheer up, cheerily cheer, five of us here, Mother and me and babies three cheer up, cheerily cheer, we're happy here. You see, Mr. Robin's English was not perfect, but he was too happy to be careful. The Little Raindrops
Every seventh day, Father Thrift rested. Today was Sunday, the seventh day. Father Thrift, as usual, arose just as the gray clouds were bidding the earth goodbye. how that queer little old man did enjoy those summer mornings. Not many people get up early enough to know what they are like.
It is then that the birds sing for father-son to awake, and the chorus of thanksgiving which arises from the woods and the fields is enough to gladden anyone's heart. Every boy and girl should learn to know these beautiful morning hours. But this morning the dark clouds lingered longer than usual.
That was because they had brought the raindrops from their home in the sky to visit the earth below. The flowers lifted their grateful heads to greet the raindrops. The thirsty roots under the ground were made glad by them. And so were the leaves and the buds and all the growing green things above the ground. The frogs jumped about in their glee and croaked joyfully.
Oh, what fun we have! The brook rushed rejoicing to the river, and the river ran to the sea, and both sang on their way. But the birds and squirrels were not so happy when the raindrops came tumbling down from the sky. They hid in their nests and under the leaves of the trees and waited for them to go away. Even Shaggy Bear did not like the rain. He hid in the cave to keep his fur dry.
Now the time was drawing near when most people were waking, that is, in the cities. The farmer has learned to know the beautiful early hours of the morning. Let us play, cried a tiny raindrop to the others. Let us play and stay here always, for the earth is a beautiful place. But the older and wiser raindrops trickled away and hid almost anywhere they could.
Some of them hid in Father Thrift's garden. Some of them jumped into the brook. They knew they were sent down to the earth to do some good and not to spend their time in playing. They had plenty of time in the sky for play. So if they wished to stay on the earth, they must work.
The little raindrops that hid in Father Thrift's garden would help to make the plants grow. Those that jumped into the brook would help to give a good, cool drink to all who were thirsty. Then Father's son came out from behind the gray clouds. Come, little raindrops, down on earth, he said. Those of you that are not busy or are not needed there must come home.
You have important work to do elsewhere. And like the good father that he was, he gathered up all that he could find and put them into pretty white and blue boats. And the wind gently sailed them across the sky. Then the rain fairies and the sun fairies joined hands until they made a beautiful arch from earth to heaven. We call this arch the rainbow.
The gay colors are the pretty dresses of the fairies. Now the birds of the forest came forth from their nests. They fluttered their wings and sent the raindrops which had rested on them down to the flowers and the grasses. Then they flew into the treetops, where father-son could see them. And as though to make up for lost time, they sang more sweetly than they did on clear days.
How their songs gladdened the forest. Father Thrift sat on a log to listen to that orchestra of a thousand throats trilling from the treetops. And Shaggy Bear came out from the cave and sat down beside him. A pretty world it would be without the birds, said Father Thrift.
How dull it would be without their colors. The rainbow cannot match them. How cheerless it would be without their song Man cannot equal it And you may be sure that Father Thrift and Shaggy Bear
Did not forget the birds in their prayers that night End of section 4
