did you ever make a willow whistle—that is, out of a piece of wood off a willow tree?
no? well, it’s lots of fun, and when i was a boy i used to make lots of them. big ones and little ones, and the kind that would almost make as much noise as some factory whistles. if you can’t make one yourself, ask your big brother, or your papa, or some man, to make you one.
maybe your big sister can, for some girls, like lulu wibblewobble, the duck, can use a knife almost as good as a boy.
well, if i’m going to tell you about bawly no-tail, the frog, and his whistles i guess i’d better start, hadn’t i? and not talk so much about big brothers and sisters.
one afternoon bawly was hopping along in the woods. it was a nice, warm day, and the wind was blowing in the treetops, and the flowers were blooming down in the moss, and bawly was very happy.
he came to a willow tree, and he said to himself:
“i guess i’ll make a whistle.” so he cut off a little branch, about eight inches long, and with his knife he cut one end slanting, just like the part of a whistle that goes in your mouth. then he made a hole for the wind to come out of.
then he pounded the bark on the stick gently with his knife handle, and pretty soon the bark slipped off, just as mamma takes off her gloves after she’s been down to the five-and-ten-cent store. then bully cut away some of the white wood, slipped on the bark again, and he had a whistle.
“my! that’s fine!” he cried, as he blew a loud blast on it. “i think i’ll make another.”
so he made a second one, and then he went on through the woods, blowing first one whistle and then the other, like the steam piano in the circus parade.
“hello!” suddenly cried a voice in the woods, “who is making all that noise?”
“i am,” answered bawly. “who are you?”
“i am sammie littletail,” was the reply, and out popped the rabbit boy from under a bush. “oh, what fine whistles!” he cried when he saw those bawly had made. “i wish i had one.”
“you may have, sammie,” answered bawly kindly, and he gave his little rabbit friend the biggest and loudest whistle. then the two boy animals went on through the woods, and pretty soon they came to a place where there was a pond of water.
“excuse me for a minute,” said bawly. “i think i’ll have a little swim. will you join me, sammie?” he asked, politely.
“no,” answered the rabbit, “i’m not a good swimmer, but i’ll wait here on the bank for you.”
“then you may hold my whistle as well as your own,” said bawly, “for i might lose it under water.” then into the pond bawly hopped, and was soon swimming about like a fish.
but something is going to happen, just as i expected it would, and i’ll tell you all about it, as i promised.
all of a sudden, as bawly was swimming about, that bad old skillery, scalery alligator, who had escaped from a circus, reared his ugly head up from the pond, where he had been sleeping, and grabbed poor bawly in his claws.
“oh, let me go!” cried the boy frog. “please let me go!”
“no, i’ll not!” answered the alligator savagely. “i had you and your brother once before, and you got away, but you shan’t get loose this time. i’m going to take you to my deep, dark, dismal den, and then we’ll have supper together.
well, bawly begged and pleaded, but it was of no use. that alligator simply would not let him go, but held him tightly in his claws, and made ugly faces at him, just like the masks on hallowe’en night.
all this while sammie littletail sat on the bank of the pond, too frightened, at the sight of the alligator, to hop away. he was afraid the savage creature might, at any moment, spring out and grab him also, and the rabbit boy just sat there, not knowing what to do.
“i wish i could save bawly,” thought sammie, “but how can i? i can’t fight a big alligator, and if i throw stones at him it will only make him more angry. oh, if only there was a fireman or a policeman in the woods, i’d tell him, and he’d hit the alligator, and make him go away. but there isn’t a policeman or a fireman here!”
then the alligator started to swim away with poor bawly, to take him off to his deep, dark, dismal den, when, all of a sudden, sammie happened to think of the two willow whistles he had—his own and bawly’s.
“i wonder if i could scare the alligator with them, and make him let bawly go?” sammie thought. then he made up a plan. he crept softly to one side, and he hid behind a stump. then he took the two whistles and he put them into his mouth.
next, the rabbit boy gathered up a whole lot of little stones in a pile. and the next thing he did was to build a little fire out of dry sticks. then he hunted up an old tin can that had once held baked beans, but which now didn’t have anything in it.
“oh, i’ll make that alligator wish he’d never caught bawly!” exclaimed sammie, working very quickly, for the savage reptile was fast swimming away with the frog boy.
sammie put the stones in the tin can, together with some water, and he set the can on the fire to boil, and he knew the stones would get hot, too, as well as the water. and, surely enough, soon the water in the can was bubbling and the stones were very hot.
then sammie took a long breath and he blew on those whistles, both at the same time as hard as ever he could. then he took some wet moss and wrapped it around the hot can, so it wouldn’t burn his paws, and he tossed everything—hot water, hot stones, hot can and all—over into the pond, close to where the alligator was. then sammie blew on the whistles some more. “toot! toot! toot! toot!”
“splash!” into the water went the hot stones, hissing like snakes.
“buzz! bubble! fizz!” went the hot water all over the alligator.
“toot! toot!” went the whistles which sammie was blowing.
“skizz! skizz!” went the hot fire-ashes that also fell into the pond.
“oh, it’s a fire engine after me! it’s a terrible fire engine after me! it’s spouting hot water and sparks on me!” cried the alligator, real frightened like, and then he was so scared that he let go of bawly, and sank away down to the bottom of the pond to get out of the way of the hot stones and the hot water and the hot sparks, and where he couldn’t hear the screechy whistles which he thought came from fire engines. and bawly swam safely to shore, and he thanked sammie littletail very kindly for saving his life, and they went on a little farther and had a nice game of tag together until supper time.
so that’s how the whistles that bawly made did him a good service, and next, if it stops raining long enough so the moon can come out without getting wet, and go to the moving pictures, i’ll tell you about grandpa croaker and uncle wiggily longears.
