Which of course he wouldn’t. For no decent rabbit would go back on his great-grandfather’s bargain with the Pickery Things. “No,” he insisted, “I truly wouldn’t know what to do with one at all. If it dragged, my gawky legs would stumble on it. If it stood up, my floppy ears would get tangled in it. I guess I’d have to walk like this—” And he limped across the dancing floor pretending to get all mixed up in a tail that wouldn’t get out of the way. He tripped on it and he kicked it and at last he pretended to pick it up in his mouth and carry it.
Chatter Squirrel laughed until his feet danced under him. As for the lady mouse she simply squeaked with joy. But the bats, who live in the woods and sleep all day couldn’t understand. And they were very serious about it. A bat hasn’t any fun in him at all.
“He’s got a tail,” said one, peering at Nibble.
“Of course,” answered the other sleepily, not troubling to open his eyes to look. “Everything’s got a tail, Fish, Bird or Beast. They couldn’t get on without one. It stands to reason.”
“How about frogs?” demanded Gimlet sharply. “They haven’t any.”
Now the bat had never particularly noticed a frog. But you couldn’t fool him. “He’s got one,” he answered cheerfully. “Only sensible folks keep it folded up under them like we do. Quite proper, too. One that drags is so untidy.”
“Untidy!” snapped the lady mouse. “What do you call one with a skin pocket like yours, all cluttered up with fly-wings, Eh?”
“Oh, but he hasn’t,” said Gimlet, and Nibble echoed, “No, truly he hasn’t.”
“Then he’s not Fish, Bird, or Beast!” repeated the sleepy bat. “It stands to reason.” And the other creatures looked at each other curiously, for they didn’t know what to say.
“He isn’t Fish, Bird, or Beast, is he?” fluttered a partridge. And the bat nodded as though he knew it all the time.