On a warm and sunny late afternoon, a story was just beginning on a bustling farm. There were chickens scratching and clucking, a pig singing a squeaky song, and a horse neighing. Everywhere activity reigned. But on a little hill, separated from all this liveliness, stood a lonely figure—the Scarecrow that Farmer Brown had put up to guard his cornfield.
The Scarecrow passed a very lonely life. He had been built in a queer shape, because Farmer Brown was very busy at the time, and had not taken any time to make him look pretty; but he had done the best he could, and now the Scarecrow would have to wait a whole year before being put up again. So he stood on his little hill and looked down on the barnyard, and wished that he could play with the chickens and the other animals.
“I wonder if they’d play with me,” he sighed.
Lonesomely the daylight passed, and when the moon rose there was no one in the barnyard to see the queer sights that happened there. There was Sammy Scarecrow, and the moon began to dance and jiggle and everybody knows, if an empty barnyard hasn’t anything living in it, the moon is the next best thing to have around. On the opposite side of the moon the old barn stood steaming and half asleep, and when the moon saw Sammy the Scarecrow over there, it thought he was one of the old, sleepy barn animals, and so it did a jig for him, and then smiled a sleepy remembering smile to show it didn’t mean to be rude.
That made Sammy the Scarecrow think that the moon wanted to play, and so he gave a bow and a “Howdy-do,” and some more of the old barnyard animals began to poke their noses and ears out of the doors to see what the matter was.
“Hello!” said Sammy Scarecrow.
“Hello!” answered the moon.
“I’m lonely,” the Scarecrow said. “O, I’m so lonely! If I had some company, I could make a funny story for you and the chickens, for I am a Scarecrow, you know, and I see everything that goes on in the barnyard.”
“Oh, come on and play with me,” said the moon. “You are an old friend, I am sure.”
But the Scarecrow didn’t think this was a kind invitation, because he never had played with the moon. It was always around when it was dark, just as people are around their homes, but he never saw it in the light of day, when he himself was in the barnyard. It wasn’t happy in its own way—no, not the least bit.
“Now I think perhaps the chickens or the cows would be better company,” said the Scarecrow. “There are my old friends the Speckled Hen, and the Dandy Rooster, the Tall Old Lady, Snip and Snap, the two black-and-white pigs. No, I’d rather play with people.”
The confession that the moon was an uncaring thing always did anger it, and so now it began to frown.
“Nothing to do up here, anyway,” it said grouchily. “I wish I had somebody to move around and play with up here by myself; I don’t care about the barnyard.” And down it went from the barn and house and farmyard asleep!
“And now,” said the Scarecrow, “what I should like to have best would be somebody to talk to; but nobody ought to play in daytime when they can sleep. I’d like to make a noise and wake ‘em all, but that wouldn’t be a nice thing to do. Well, I’ll go to sleep too.”
“O, Cousin Scarecrow,” yelled the Dandy Rooster after he had been awake a little while, “you are indeed a queer thing, Cousin Scarecrow! What do you want to sleep at this time of day for? Farmer Brown is out of this house once more, and if you want to shake off the sleep, dance a jig!”
The Scarecrow took the advice and danced a jig, although he would much rather have slept for a while. The Dandy Rooster thought he ought to sing, because a person who dances a jig ought to have somebody to hear them, so he began to crow. This woke up all the other animals.
“What’s going on?” they all said, when their heads couldn’t nod any longer. “O, Cousin Scarecrow, you are so funny,” said the Dandy Rooster. “Dance a little more.”
The Scarecrow bowed low.
“Thank you, Cousin Rooster, I will dance for you every day this week. But you’ll all have to do your part to help me keep in practice.” He gave a whirligig all around the barnyard and waved his arms, that Farmer Brown had dressed him in in place of sleeves. All the same, he thought it was very good of them to stay away from their dinner without a good reason.
“Maybe in the dark of another night I can tickle the moon,” he muttered to himself.