Everybody Who is Anybody.
Mr. Squirrel and Mrs. Squirrel were invited and were glad to accept.
Mr. Peckerwood had been abroad early. Mrs. Rabbit was going to give a dining and had commissioned him to invite her friends. Mrs. Rabbit had baked up the entire turn of corn that Mr. Rabbit had taken to mill to provide for Sunday’s dinner. Mr. Squirrel and Mrs. Squirrel were invited and were glad to accept and promised to attend. Mr. and Mrs. Toad were invited but were compelled to decline. In discussing the matter among themselves Mrs. Toad observed: “We have lived long here in our own simple way and have never gone in society. It was a hard struggle for a time and no one thought of us or cared for us. We have always lived at peace with our neighbors and we now have their good will; but, because we have prospered, we have not changed our habits of life. We are old-fashioned and we would be out of place in grand society if it is as those who have been there picture it. Of course those present would be very kind to us and do what they could to make us feel at home; but their efforts would only make us sense the more keenly how unfitted we are for such company. We are unused to gaiety and fine things and we would be at a loss to know what to do and always fearful of making mistakes. We had better remain as we are and where we are. Here we know what to do and how to extract simple pleasure from our surroundings. There, everything would be new and strange and untoward.”
Mrs. Toad said these things not without an effort. In spite of her, she had a curiosity to see the fine sights in the upper and polite world.
Mr. Toad agreed with her and added: “They used to say every Toad, however ugly, had a precious jewel in its head. Of late years this has been disputed by the wise who call themselves scientists. You, my dear, at least, vindicate the truth of the older claim. You have in your head the precious jewel of sound sense and wise discretion.”
Mrs. Toad smiled and her desire to go vanished. The commendation of those we love is always conciliating and soothing.
Mr. and Mrs. Frog were invited and Mrs. Frog accepted for the entire family. She wanted Mr. Frog and the Baby Frogs to have a pleasant outing and she was flattered by the thought that green dresses and white stomachers would look uncommonly well. Frogs could not fly, but they could swim and dive, and that is something the birds of the air cannot do, she mused. She began at once preparing for the event.
Mr. Jaybird and Mrs. Jaybird were invited by mistake and they accepted instantly and Mrs. Jaybird flew over to Mrs. Magpie’s home and told her all about it and how she hated to go to the stupid function and be bored, as she knew she would be; but, as Everybody who is Anybody is to be there, she presumed she would have to attend. Mrs. Magpie received no invitation; neither did Mr. Magpie, but Mrs. Magpie flew about and told Everybody who is Nobody that she would not attend such a meeting or mix in with such company, and Everybody who is Nobody commended her discrimination and solemnly declared that she would not attend such a meeting or mix in such company.
Mr. Beaver and Mrs. Beaver were invited, and Mrs. Beaver said that she would attend to the R. S. V. P. later on. As soon as Mr. Peckerwood was out of sight she came out of her house and slapped the water with her flat tail, producing a sharp sound that could be heard a long distance. Mr. Beaver, who was cutting into convenient lengths a tree he had felled the day previous, so that he could roll it down the bank and use it in strengthening the dam in front of his house, plunged into the water and dived down to the door of his stronghold in alarm, thinking serious danger impended and that the noise was the usual warning given by the sentinels. He was met by Mrs. Beaver, whose face was lit up and smiling, and who exclaimed: “What do you think! We have been invited to a dining at Mrs. Rabbit’s and we are sure to have a good time. Everybody who is Anybody will be there, and I don’t think we will have to take a back seat for any of them. It is rather warm for furs, but it is late in the season, and—furs are always furs.”