Beverley Nichols - The Tree that Sat Down

‘I am so unhappy, Miss Judy.’

‘Tell me.’

So Mrs Rabbit told her all about going to the shop and buying the box from Sam.

‘But what did he say was in it?’ asked Judy.

‘Nichts.’

‘Nichts?’ Judy’s brow puckered. ‘But that is nothing.’

‘How can nichts be nothing?’

‘I mean, it is nothing in Germany.’

Mrs Rabbit sniffed. ‘It may be nothing in Germany, but I do not see why it should not be something here .’ She was feeling better now, and was inclined to be argumentative.

‘What I mean is …’ began Judy.

Mrs Rabbit interrupted her. ‘I might be nothing in Germany myself. In fact, I probably should be nothing … nobody at all. Most of my relations are in Australia.’

‘Besides,’ she went on, ‘there were other boxes that I might have bought. Boxes full of rien. I suppose you will say that is nothing too.’

‘Of course it is,’ said Judy. ‘It is nothing in France.’

Mrs Rabbit patted her paw nervously on the ground. She was beginning to feel impatient. ‘We do not seem to be getting very much further,’ she observed.

‘Wait a minute!’ There was a note of excitement in Judy’s voice. ‘I believe I’m beginning to understand. You see …’

However, Mrs Rabbit was still so nervous and upset that she did not listen. ‘All this talk about France and Germany … where does it get us?’ She took up the scrap of coloured paper, sniffed it, and threw it away again. ‘You say that nichts is nothing in Germany. But from what I have heard about that country, things that are nothing in Germany are often something in other countries. Even … even Scraps of Paper.’ She sniffed, very rapidly. ‘I read that in a history book.’

‘You are quite right. And you are a very clever rabbit.’ Judy put her hand gently on Mrs Rabbit’s paw. She felt the sympathy returning between them; the paw was soft and yielding, and answered to the pressure of her fingers. ‘But dear Mrs Rabbit, you must listen a minute. I have something very serious to tell you. And something very … very bad .’

Whereupon she proceeded to explain.

When Mrs Rabbit at last understood, and had learned the full extent of Sam’s wickedness, her first impulse was to rush violently through the wood, stamping her feet in the secret S O S which summons all the rabbits from their burrows in time of danger and crisis. But she soon realized that this would be a mistake. She would never have the courage to tell them what a fool she had been. Besides, what could they do ? If Sam was so wicked that he would cheat animals, he might be so wicked that he would kill them too; he might even have a gun.

‘What can any of us do?’ she moaned.

Judy knew what she herself could do. Underneath her blouse she wore a silver locket. She was very fond of it, and it was the only piece of jewellery she had ever possessed. But Mrs Rabbit’s need was greater than her own, so with a little sigh, for she really was very fond of it, she unfastened it, and hung it round Mrs Rabbit’s neck.

‘Oh, I couldn’t take it,’ breathed Mrs Rabbit, staring in wonder at the locket.

‘Yes, you could,’ said Judy. ‘And you can say that it was what you found in the box. Look, we will actually put it in the box for a minute, and then you will not be telling a lie.’

‘But … but it’s so beautiful .’

And indeed, in the light of the rising moon, it sparkled like frost.

‘It is rather pretty,’ agreed Judy. ‘So you’d better hurry home with it at once before I change my mind.’

Mrs Rabbit jumped up and down, giving little furry kisses to Judy’s hand. Then with a final ‘Thank you – oh, thank you!’ she gathered up the box and the paper and ran into the night.

Judy watched Mrs Rabbit’s tail bobbing through the long grass till it was finally out of sight. Then she too turned for home.

But as she walked her heart was heavy, and she shook her head. ‘Something must be done,’ she said to herself. ‘Something must certainly be done.’

‘YES,’ AGREED MRS JUDY, on the following morning, when she had heard the whole story, ‘something must certainly be done.’

It was nearly twelve o’clock, and not a single animal had come near The Shop Under the Willow Tree. Not that they were not still very fond of Mrs Judy, but Sam had been so clever with his advertisements and his smart talk that they all thought that they could buy much better things at The Shop in the Ford.

Besides, Mrs Rabbit had been so proud of her beautiful locket that she had been scampering through the wood ever since breakfast, showing it to all the other animals, who thought it was a wonderful bargain. And so Judy’s kind action had only served to injure Judy herself. Which is often the way of kind actions, though that should not prevent us from performing as many of them as we can.

‘We shall be ruined,’ sighed Mrs Judy.

Judy smiled bravely. ‘No, we shall think of something. Perhaps Sam is right when he says we are not modern.’

Mrs Judy snorted. ‘Modern! Of course we’re not modern. What’s the point of being modern? What’s better in the world today than it was yesterday?’

Judy could think of no answer.

‘Well,’ said Judy, changing the subject, ‘what we have to do is to persuade the animals to buy more.’

‘Buy more what ?’

‘More anything. And I really think we ought to go all round the shop now, at this very minute, and see if there isn’t anything we can improve.’

*

‘Let’s begin with the Nest Department,’ suggested Judy.

The Nest Department lay under the shelter of a very old and twisted branch of the Tree that had fallen to the ground so many years ago that most of the bark was crumbling to pieces. The nests were arranged in neat piles, and each pile was labelled. Like this:

Nests. Top bough

Nests. Middle and lower boughs

Nests. Hedge

Nests. Eaves

Nests. Cuckoo-proof and Cat-burglar-proof

Nests. Ground floor

There was also a little catalogue hanging on a twig, with a label on the cover, bearing the words, ‘Nests, sites for …’

Judy had taken a great deal of trouble over these nests, and at first they had been a great success, because she had been able to supply the demand of almost any bird in the wood. Judy had only to go to the pile, find the right nest, and then turn to the catalogue to see what branches were ‘to let’. The index of the catalogue began with Acacias (white) and ended with Willows (weeping), and in a few moments she had found what was wanted.

But now, Judy was bound to admit, the nests did look rather dilapidated. She had been so busy in other departments that she had not had time to attend to them, and many of them were falling to pieces.

‘No self-respecting bird would buy any of these,’ said Mrs Judy. ‘Lots of them have holes in the floor so that the eggs would fall out.’

‘Oh dear! So they have!’ Judy picked one of them and turned it over in her hands. Then she had an idea. ‘Supposing I made some beautiful new ones, with a partition down the middle? Then we could put in a lovely advertisement: “Ultra-Modern Two-roomed Nests. Exclusive.”’

‘With central heating, I suppose,’ sniffed Mrs Judy sarcastically.

‘I don’t think we could quite run to that,’ replied Judy. ‘But I do think the two-roomed idea is a good one.’

Mrs Judy shook her head. ‘It’s downright pampering.’

‘But Grannie, we must move with the times.’

‘Very well. Have it your own way.’

*

Their next visit was to the Novelty Department, which was really Judy’s favourite. As they walked through it, she became so interested, and had so many new ideas, that for a time she forgot her troubles. She even forgot the wickedness of Sam.