Evening star., 1941-12-31
Bedtime Stories
By THORNTON w. BURGESS.

Harder and harder had frozen
the crust over the snow in the Green
Forest and on the Green Meadows.
which were white now instead of
green. But Mrs. Grouse, snug and
warm In her bed on the ground
under the snow, knew nothing of
this. No. Mrs. Grouse knew nothing
about that crust growing harder and
harder and thicker and thicker. You
see, there had been no crust, nothing
but soft snow, when she went to bed,
and the only worry on her mind
when she fell asleep had been
whether or not she would be able to
find enough to eat the next day,
for food was scarce. Even this did
not worry her great deal, for,
though she often had gone hungry,
she always had managed to find
enough to keep her alive until
better times, and she had lived long
enough to learn that good timls are
bound to follow bad times.
When jolly, round. red Mr.. Sun
climbed out of bed the next morn
ing and began to climb up In the
blue, blue sky he looked down on a
very beautiful world. He couldn't
remember ever having seen 1t more
beautiful. No, sir, he couldn't. You
see, when he went to bed the night
before it had been showing. Then
the snow had turned to rain, and
after that along had come Jack
Frost and frozen it as fast as it fell.
Then in the night the clouds had
disappeared and now Mr.. Sun looked
down on such a beautiful. beautiful
world. Every teeniest. WeenieSt twig
of every tree and bush was covered
with ice until it looked as if it were
made of glass. Yes. sir. the trees
of the Green Forest and the Old
Orchard and all the other trees
looked as if they were glass trees.
They wirked and tWinkled and
sparkled and flashed and shone
whenever Mr.. Suns beams touched
them, and showed the most beauti-
full colors. And the snow on the
ground was covered with an Icy
crust that glistened and flashed al
most as much as did the trees, and
that was so hard and strong that
Farmer Browns boy could slide on
it without once breaking through.
Now when Mrs. Grouse walked
that beautiful morning the first
thing she thought of was how
thankful she was that no harm had
come TO her in the night and that
she hadn't been obliged to fly for
her life, as sometimes had happened
when Granny or Reddy Fox had
come along. And the next thing
Mrs. Grouse thought of was some
thing to eat.
L expect 1 shall have to go up to
the Old Orchard for some apple
buds, because other iood is so scarce,
and the sooner 1 go the better. for
the less likely is Farmer Browns
boy to see me-" said she to herself.
So. just as she was in the habit
of doing every morning after spend
ing a night under the snow, she
sprang upward, spreading her stout
wings and expecting to make the
snow fly in cloud But she didn't.
No, sir, she didn't make the snow
fly at all Instead, she bumped her
head. That's what she did
bumped her head. 1t surprised her
so that for a minute or two she Just
lay still and gasped. Then a great
fright filled her heart. What if she
couldn't get out? The very thought
frightened her still more, and she
beat her stout wings harder than
ever. But it was of no use, no use
at all. She couldn't break through
that hard. thick crust, and she only,
tired herself out and bruised her
self for nothing. Mrs. Grouse was
held prisoner by the very snow
that had so often protected her and
kept her safe from all harm.