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Tale of Grandfather Mole (version 2)

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<h2>XXIII</h2> <h3>SEEING A SAMPLE</h3> Grandfather Mole's remark made Billy Woodchuck smile. "I'm a very busy person. I've some digging to do down below," Grandfather had said. "You're just the one I need to help me!" Billy Woodchuck exclaimed, for he had heard somewhere that if you want a thing done, you should get a busy person to do it. "I hope you don't want me to catch angleworms for you," Grandfather Mole told him. "The neighbors are always asking me to do that. And I've decided that I can't do it. Somehow I can't help eating 'em myself." Billy Woodchuck assured him that he had no use at all for angleworms. "What I want," he explained, "is a good digger to help dig a new house for me." "Is anybody else going to help too?" Grandfather Mole inquired carefully. "No—only myself!" Billy said. "Then I'm sorry; but I can't work for you," Grandfather Mole announced. And he had already turned away, as if the business were ended, when Billy Woodchuck stopped him again. "Perhaps"—said Billy—"perhaps I can find one or two others besides myself." "You've missed my point," said Grandfather Mole. "I don't want anybody else to help—not even you! For I won't share the fun of digging with any one." Well, Billy Woodchuck could hardly believe his own ears. "You shall have things all your own way!" he cried. "I won't scratch a speck of dirt, I promise you!" "That's different," Grandfather Mole remarked. "That's more like it. And if you're a person that keeps his promises we shall not have a bit of trouble." "You can depend on me," Billy Woodchuck told Grandfather Mole. "While you're working for me I'll spend all my time in the clover-patch.... And now," he added, "I'd like to see a sample of your digging." "Come right this way!" Grandfather Mole directed. And Billy Woodchuck followed, and looked carefully at the small hole that Grandfather Mole pointed to with an air of pride. "Here's one of my doorways," he announced. With his head on one side, Billy Woodchuck inspected it. "It's well made," he said, "but of course it's entirely too small for my house. If you work for me you'll have to dig bigger than that." That speech did not please Grandfather Mole. "Small doorways are the only kind to have," he declared. "I wouldn't make a bigger one for anybody—not even for Farmer Green himself." Billy Woodchuck soon saw that Grandfather Mole was a stubborn old fellow. No matter what he said, he couldn't get Grandfather Mole to change his opinion. And at last Billy Woodchuck gave up all hope of having Grandfather Mole dig for him. "A door like yours would be of no use to me," he said dolefully. "I never could squeeze through it." "My goodness!" Grandfather Mole cried. "How big are you, anyhow?" It must be remembered that he couldn't see his caller. "I'm big enough," said Billy Woodchuck, "to put you in my pocket, almost." Grandfather Mole turned pale at the mere thought of such a thing. "I—I'd no idea I was talking to a monster," he stammered. "I don't believe I want to dig for you, after all." And saying a hasty good afternoon, he popped through his doorway and vanished at Billy Woodchuck's feet. Greatly disappointed, Billy Woodchuck turned homewards. "I'd have been in a pretty fix if he had finished my house, and I had tried to move my furniture into it," he muttered. "It's lucky I asked to see a sample of Grandfather Mole's work," said Billy Woodchuck. <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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