The Tale of Daddy Longlegs Part 1

The Tale of Daddy Longlegs.

by Arthur Scott Bailey.

I

THE STRANGE TRACKS

THERE was great excitement in the neighborhood of Farmer Green's house.

Rusty Wren had found some strange tracks. And n.o.body knew whose they were.

Now, when they were puzzled like that the field- and forest-folk usually went straight to Mr. Crow for advice. But this time it happened that the old gentleman had gone on an excursion to the further side of Blue Mountain, where Brownie Beaver lived. And there seemed to be no one else at hand who was likely to be able to explain the mystery.

Being quite old, Mr. Crow was very wise. And people often sought his opinion, though later they fell into the habit of consulting Daddy Longlegs upon matters they did not understand. But this was before Daddy was known in Pleasant Valley.

Upon hearing Rusty Wren's news a good many of his neighbors hurried to the place where Rusty had noticed the strange tracks.

"They were there in the dust of the road," Rusty Wren explained to his friends. "I could see them plainly, I a.s.sure you. And there's no doubt that a large company crossed the road right here."

"Why can't we see the tracks now?" several people wanted to know.

"A horse and wagon pa.s.sed this way and spoiled the footprints," Rusty said.

"They couldn't have been very big," somebody remarked.

"Well----no!" Rusty Wren admitted. "I shouldn't call them big. But they certainly weren't as small as the footprints of an ant."

When they heard that, some of Rusty's friends looked relieved.

"We don't need to worry, anyhow," a number of them said to one another.

But there was one that was disappointed. That was Reddy Woodp.e.c.k.e.r.

"Why, the strangers--whoever they are--are too small for me to fight!"

he cried. "And here I've wasted all this time for nothing at all!" He looked so angrily at Rusty Wren that Rusty felt very uneasy. He certainly didn't want Reddy Woodp.e.c.k.e.r to fight him!

Luckily Reddy did not attack Rusty. But he went away grumbling. And Rusty Wren couldn't help feeling a bit worried.

"Never mind what that rowdy says!" little Mr. Chippy advised Rusty Wren--after the quarrelsome Reddy Woodp.e.c.k.e.r had gone away. "I'm glad you told me about those strange tracks. I live near-by, in the wild grapevine on the stone wall; and I shall watch for more tracks--and those that make them, too."

"Let me know when you learn anything new!" said Rusty Wren. And Mr.

Chippy said that nothing would please him more than to do just that.

Well, the very next day Mr. Chippy's son, Chippy, Jr., knocked at Rusty Wren's door (which was right beneath Farmer Green's chamber window) and told Rusty that he was wanted by the roadside at once.

So Rusty flew straight to the stone wall, where he found little Mr.

Chippy all aflutter. Mr. Chippy dropped quickly into the road, pointing to some tiny marks in the dust.

"Are those like the tracks you saw?" he asked.

"Yes--the very same!" cried Rusty Wren. "And now you can see for yourself that there must have been a crowd."

To his surprise Mr. Chippy shook his head.

"There was only one person----" he said--"one person with eight legs!"

"Why do you think that?" Rusty Wren asked him doubtfully.

"I don't think it. I _know_ it!" Mr. Chippy replied. "I've seen the person six times to-day with my own eyes."

"What does he look like?" Rusty Wren inquired.

"Like n.o.body else I ever saw!" Mr. Chippy exclaimed. "His legs are long and thin; and his body is very small. And though his mouth makes me think of a pair of pincers, he seems quite friendly and harmless."

"What's his name?" asked Busty Wren.

"I don't know," said Mr. Chippy. "But there's only one name that fits him. I've already called him by it. And he seemed to like it, too."

"What's that?" Rusty persisted.

"Daddy Longlegs!" said little Mr. Chippy.

II

THE NEW NEIGHBOR

ALL the neighbors began to call him "Daddy Longlegs." And anyone might naturally think that he had lived in Pleasant Valley a great many years.

But it was not so. Late in the summer Daddy Longlegs had appeared from n.o.body knew where.

Although people often inquired where his old home was, he always pretended that he didn't hear them--and began to talk about the weather.

And as for Daddy Longlegs' new home in Pleasant Valley, n.o.body knew much about that either. No matter how curious anyone might be, it did him no good at all to ask Daddy Longlegs where he lived. When prying persons put that question to him, Daddy Longlegs always waved his eight legs in every direction and answered "Over there!"

Of course such a reply told nothing to anyone. And it led to a good many disputes among Daddy Longlegs' neighbors. No two could ever agree as to which of Daddy's legs really pointed toward the place where he dwelt.

Anyhow, the wily gentleman was frequently seen scrambling about the stone wall by the roadside, near Farmer Green's house. And little Mr.

Chippy, who made his home in the wild grapevine that grew on the wall, always claimed that Daddy Longlegs was a neighbor of his.

"He's a good neighbor, too," Mr. Chippy told his friends. "He's very quiet and he never quarrels. And he's always pleasant and ready for a chat. It's too bad that he's deaf. I've asked him at least a dozen times how old he is; but he never seems to hear me."

Old Mr. Crow, who liked nothing better than prying into other people's affairs, slowly shook his head at that. And coughing slightly he remarked in a hoa.r.s.e voice that there must be _reasons_ why Daddy Longlegs wouldn't tell where he came from, nor where he was living, nor how old he was.

But Mr. Crow wouldn't say what he thought might be the reasons. Although he was a wise bird, there were some things he didn't know.