On the fifth day the squirrels
brought a present of wild honey; it
was so sweet and sticky that they
licked their fingers as they put it down
upon the stone. They had stolen it out
of a bumble BEES' nest on the tippity
top of the hill.
But Nutkin skipped up and down,
singing—
"Hum-a-bum! buzz! buzz! Hum-a-bum buzz!
As I went over Tipple-tine
I met a flock of bonny swine;
Some yellow-nacked, some yellow backed!
They were the very bonniest swine
That e'er went over the Tipple-tine."
Old Mr. Brown turned up his eyes
in disgust at the impertinence of
Nutkin.
But he ate up the honey!
The squirrels filled their little sacks
with nuts.
But Nutkin sat upon a big flat rock,
and played ninepins with a crab apple
and green fir-cones.
On the sixth day, which was
Saturday, the squirrels came again for
the last time; they brought a new-laid
EGG in a little rush basket as a last
parting present for Old Brown.
But Nutkin ran in front laughing,
and shouting—
"Humpty Dumpty lies in the beck,
With a white counterpane round his neck,
Forty doctors and forty wrights,
Cannot put Humpty Dumpty to rights!"
Now old Mr. Brown took an interest
in eggs; he opened one eye and shut it
again. But still he did not speak.
Nutkin became more and more
impertinent—
"Old Mr. B! Old Mr. B!
Hickamore, Hackamore, on the King's
kitchen door;
All the King's horses, and all the King's men,
Couldn't drive Hickamore, Hackamore,
Off the King's kitchen door!"
Nutkin danced up and down like a
SUNBEAM; but still Old Brown said
nothing at all.
Nutkin began again—
"Authur O'Bower has broken his band,
He comes roaring up the land!
The King of Scots with all his power,
Cannot turn Arthur of the Bower!"
Nutkin made a whirring noise to
sound like the WIND, and he took a
running jump right onto the head of
Old Brown! . . .
Then all at once there was a
flutterment and a scufflement and a
loud "Squeak!"
The other squirrels scuttered away
into the bushes.
When they came back very
cautiously, peeping round the tree—
there was Old Brown sitting on his
door-step, quite still, with his eyes
closed, as if nothing had happened.
* * * * * * * *
BUT NUTKIN WAS IN HIS WAISTCOAT POCKET!
This looks like the end of the story;
but it isn't.
Old Brown carried Nutkin into his
house, and held him up by the tail,
intending to skin him; but Nutkin
pulled so very hard that his tail broke
in two, and he dashed up the
staircase, and escaped out of the attic
window.
And to this day, if you meet Nutkin
up a tree and ask him a riddle, he will
throw sticks at you, and stamp his
feet and scold, and shout—
"Cuck-cuck-cuck-cur-r-r-cuck-k!"