The Wishing-Stone Stories

by Thornton W. Burgess

It was not often that Tommy caught so much as a glimpse of Billy Mink; and every time he did, he had the feeling that he had been smart, very smart indeed. The funny thing is that this feeling annoyed Tommy. Yes, it did. It annoyed him because it seemed so very foolish to think that there was anything smart in just seeing Billy Mink. And yet every time he did see him, he had the feeling that he had really done something out of the usual.

Little by little, he realized that it was because Billy Mink himself is so smart, and manages to keep out of sight so much of the time, that just seeing him once in a while gave him the feeling of being smarter than Billy.

At the same time, he was never quite sure that Billy didn’t intend to be seen. Somehow that little brown-coated scamp always seemed to be playing with him. He would appear so suddenly that Tommy never could tell just where he came from. And he would disappear quite as quickly. Tommy never could tell where he went. He just vanished, that was all. It was this that made Tommy feel that he had been smart to see him at all.

Now Tommy had been acquainted with Billy Mink for a long time. That is to say, he had known Billy by sight. More than that, he had tried to trap Billy, and in trying to trap him he had learned some of Billy’s ways. In fact, Tommy had spent a great deal of time trying to catch Billy. You see, he wanted that little brown fur coat of Billy’s because he could sell it. But it was very clear that Billy wanted that little fur coat himself to wear, and also that he knew all about traps.

So Billy still wore his coat, and Tommy had taken up his traps and put them away with a sigh for the money which he had hoped that that coat would bring him, and with a determination that, when cold weather should come again, he would get it. You see it was summer now, and the little fur coat was of no value then save to Billy himself.

In truth, Tommy would have forgotten all about it until autumn came again had not Billy suddenly popped out in front of him that very morning, while Tommy was trying to catch a trout in a certain quiet pool in the Laughing Brook deep in the Green Forest. Tommy had been sitting perfectly still, like the good fisherman that he was, not making the tiniest sound, when he just seemed to feel two eyes fixed on him. Very, very slowly Tommy turned his head. He did it so slowly that it almost seemed as if he didn’t move it at all. But careful as he was, he had no more than a bare glimpse of a little brown animal, who disappeared as by magic.

“It’s that mink,” thought Tommy, and continued to stare at the spot where he had last seen Billy. The rustle of a leaf almost behind him caused him to forget and to turn quickly. Again he had just a glimpse of something brown. Then it was gone. Where, he hadn’t the least idea. It was gone, that was all.

Tommy forgot all about trout. It was more fun to try to get a good look at Billy Mink and to see what he was doing and where he was going. Tommy remembered all that he had been taught or had read about how to act when trying to watch his little wild neighbors and he did the best he could, but all he got was a fleeting glimpse now and then which was most tantalizing. At last he gave up and reeled in his fish-line. Then he started for home. All the way he kept thinking of Billy Mink. He couldn’t get Billy out of his head.

Little by little he realized how, when all was said and done, he didn’t know anything about Billy. That is, he didn’t really know—he just guessed at things.

“And here he is one of my neighbors,” thought Tommy. “I know a great deal about Peter Rabbit, and Chatterer the Red Squirrel, and Reddy Fox, and a lot of others, but I don’t know anything about Billy Mink, and he’s too smart to let me find out. Huh! he needn’t be so secret about everything. I’m not going to hurt him.”