On a bright full moon night, the glow shone through every nook and cranny of our long Bunny Burrow. I don’t know how to tell you how pleasant it was–so soft and peaceful, while all the world outside lay still. But Bunny children are never still.
“Hear that!” I cried. “Isn’t that a funny noise? What is it?”
The others stopped their rollicking, and listened.
“Oh! Oh!” exclaimed Flops, my little brother, standing in the door where we were playing, and pointing out into the moonlight road. “What’s that, ‘Lom?”
No one seemed able to answer, though. It made a sound like the twittering of very contented little birds, and then all at once another noise like leaves rustling in a breeze, mixed with the tinkle of many tiny little bells.
Ide was the first to gather enough courage to go out and see what it could be. We all followed close behind her.
Why, it was our dear friend the old Pileated Woodpecker, giving a blow-out under the moonlight! He had been right busy, all the latter part of the day, almost deafening us with his whir-r-r-r at work on the tall tree next to our Burrow; and now that the work was done, was out to celebrate — hammering away, joyful and happy, while, just as we came up, he had picked a tiny twig off a branch above where he was sitting, which he’d thrown down on to our heads. With love and a happy heart, he sung out:
“Brr, brr, brr! Hi, ho! Ha, ha, ha!”
“We’re here, too!” I called. “Don’t you forget us! We couldn’t hear a word you said before.”
“Wasn’t it pattering down like rain when it came on the roof?” croaked prop. “Just as if some little thirsty child was begging for a drink. Brr, brr, brr! Ha! That’s good! That’s nice! What moonlight, and what a roof! Hear all the little folks out, and lively and happy as so many crickets!”
“I’d like to throw some moonlight right down your chimney!” I laughed. “Wouldn’t it give you a birthday surprise?”
I don’t believe any Bunny ever thought before of wanting to give a present of moonlight to the rest of the world. While I was thinking and dreaming, a lovely, bright idea popped into my head.
When twinkling down the chimney again came our old friend the Woodpecker, I called out to him, surely your tall tree can hold a great deal of moonlight safe, till to-morrow. Don’t you think you could fill us a wee, wee jar with it, after we get to bed? I’m going to give my family a moonlight party as a surprise.”
“If I’d set my heart on it enough, I’d do that same thing,” he told me. “But I’m growing so old I sleep too sound for the work.”
Next, I asked the Toad.
“Oh! I couldn’t do that!” the Toad croaked, stretching his bulg* body out in the middle of the road, under a glow of light, so that I could see him well, and winking at me. “Drink away right straight down out of the sky it comes! What use would it be to put it into a jar? It’s just as well here as anywhere.”
It was a sad disappointment to me to find that no one could or would help me with my surprise.
“Plenty of good loving things in the world beside moonlight,” chirped gaily the Woodpecker. “You’ve everything that love has to give.”
So I went to bed with my heart quite heavy, and dreamt all things silly and foolish like. The next thing I remember was waking with a start. My family had been bolting their breakfast, and since, had gone off without me, with a raspberry basket over her arm, for a day’s picnic away in the woods.
“Pass the gooseberries. Good morning! Watercress, anyone?” I sighed.
Would I ever know what fun the others would have under that little moonlight Jar? Listening to the crickets chirp and the frogs croak, and the stones and the boughs crack their jaws, and every shadow make a noise. And oh, all the secrets the evening stars use to tell one another only I never get to hear!
Never mind; Love is the greatest gift!