The Tale of Hawthorn House by Susan Wittig Albert Read Free Book Online Page B

waved at Beatrix. Then she vanished.
    And at that moment, the heavens opened and it began to pour with rain.

5
    The True Tale of Jemima Puddle-duck
    Listen to the story of Jemima Puddle-duck, who was annoyed because the farmer’s wife would not let her hatch her own eggs.
    Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck
     
 
The downpour delighted the ducks, annoyed the hens, and prompted Kep the collie and Mustard, the old yellow dog, to seek refuge in the Hill Top barn. They sprawled on the earthen floor just inside the door and watched the rain pelting in gusty, wind-spun sheets across the garden. They also took notice of the old woman who was just going over the wall.
    “Haven’t seen that one in quite a while,” Mustard remarked in his broad country dialect. “Those Hawthorn Folk mostly keep to themselves on Broomstick Lane. They moved house when they was evicted, back some while ago.”
    “Hawthorn Folk?” Kep asked curiously. A brown collie with a shawl of white fur around his shoulders, four white paws, and a white tip to his full tail, he had been brought from Low Longmire by Farmer Jennings to help Mustard with the herding. The older dog was getting on in years. He was fine with the cows (who were slow and deliberate) but no longer spry enough to go after Miss Potter’s nimble-footed sheep.
    “Thorn Folk are like t’ Oak and Beech and Willow Folk,” Mustard replied, licking a paw. “Fairy folk tree dwellers, y’know. This lot was evicted from t’ hawthorns at Hawthorn House when t’ trees was chopt down.”
    “Chopt down!” Kep barked, aghast. “Where I come from, taking down a thorn is the worst sort of luck. Unless it’s done right,” he added. “With proper notice and apologies. And even then, the Folk may take offence.”
    “ ’Tweren’t done right at Hawthorn House,” Mustard replied. “An Army man bought t’ place. Arrived one day, ordered t’ thorns chopt down t’ next. Said they stood in the way o’ his lookin’ out o’er t’ lake.” He shook his head darkly. “Gave t’ Thorn Folk no notice, no by-your-leave, not even ‘I’m sorry.’ T’ thorns was chopt down and carted off, with t’ Folk running after, cryin’ and sobbin’ as if their hearts ’ud break. Not that t’ Army man noticed, o’ course. Some humans doan’t, worse fer them.”
    Kep was somber. “I’ve heard people say that Hawthorn House is haunted.”
    “Worse ’n haunted,” Mustard said with a sigh. “Curst. T’ garden won’t grow, t’ well’s dried up, and there’s to be no babes.”
    “No babes? That’s a sad thing.”
    “Aye. If a babe is born in t’ house, t’ Folk are bound to carry it off.”
    Kep whistled softly and cast a glance at the spot where the woman had scaled the wall and disappeared. “And that was one of them?”
    “Aye. Wonder what she’s doin’ here at Hill Top.”
    Not having heard Mrs. Overthewall’s conversation with the children or seen what she left on Miss Potter’s doorstep, the dogs were at a loss. So we shall turn our attention to another creature in the barn: the would-be mother duck whose misadventure with a certain fox was chronicled in Miss Potter’s story The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck . I’m sure you have read it but perhaps a long time ago. So that you can understand what Jemima is doing in the barn, I will relate the tale to you here, although the story will include some details Miss Potter omitted from her book, perhaps in deference to the youthful innocence of her audience.
    When The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck begins, we learn that the farmer’s wife has been thwarting the duck’s desires to fulfill her maternal destiny. Each day, Mrs. Jennings sends her son, young Sammy, to collect the duck eggs and give them to the hens to hatch. (You may see a picture of Sammy taking Jemima’s eggs from under the rhubarb on page 12 of The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck. You will also see the box-hive that Miss Potter placed in an alcove of the garden