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Tale of Grandfather Mole (version 2)

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<h2>VII</h2> <h3>TWO WORM-EATERS</h3> There was one special reason—among others—why Grandfather Mole didn't like to show himself above ground in the daytime. This reason was—hawks! And there was something else that made him dislike to appear at night, too. This something else was—owls! But of the two, Grandfather Mole disliked hawks the more, because they could see so far, while he (poor old fellow!) couldn't even see the end of his own nose, though goodness knows it was long enough! Since Henry Hawk could sit in a great elm far up the road and see him the moment he stuck his head out of the ground, while Grandfather Mole couldn't even see the tree, it was not surprising that Grandfather Mole preferred to stay below while Henry Hawk was awake and on watch. Down in his galleries and chambers where it was dark as a pocket Grandfather Mole enjoyed himself thoroughly. It was lucky he was fond of worms and grubs. If he hadn't been it would be hard to say what he could have found to eat—unless it was dirt. There was plenty of that where he spent his time. But luckily he didn't have to eat it. He did enjoy digging in it, however. So it is easy to see that the way he lived suited him perfectly. Not every one, of course, would have felt as Grandfather Mole did about angleworms, and grubs and dirt, or dampness, or the dark. Many of his bird neighbors, for instance, liked the same things to eat that he did. But most of them—except such odd ones as Solomon Owl, and Mr. Nighthawk, and Willie Whip-poor-will—loved the bright sunshine. Spending a summer in Pleasant Valley was a small gentleman of the well known Warbler family, who had so great a liking for worms that he was known as the Worm-eating Warbler. This tiny person spent little or none of his time in the tree-tops, but chose to stay near the ground. And more than once he had seen Grandfather Mole in Farmer Green's garden. He had heard somehow of Grandfather Mole's tastes and habits. And he was inclined to believe that it was Grandfather Mole that was to blame for the scarcity of worms in the neighborhood. It must be confessed that he felt none too kindly towards Grandfather Mole. He thought that it would be a good thing if somebody could persuade that odd, old chap to stay on top of the ground, instead of lurking most of the time down below where he could catch the worms right where they lived. And one day the Worm-eating Warbler spoke to Grandfather Mole when he happened to see him come out of a hole. "Why don't you live up here where you can get plenty of fresh air and sunshine?" he asked. "Don't you know they'd be good for your health?" Grandfather Mole turned his head toward the speaker. That was as near as he could come to staring at him, since he couldn't see him. Grandfather Mole did not like the Worm-eating Warbler's remarks in the least! "Why don't you"—he inquired—"why don't you come down into the ground and enjoy the close, damp air and the darkness? They'd be good for your health. I've thrived down below all my life; and I'm considerably older than you, young sir!" Grandfather Mole's retort struck the Worm-eating Warbler dumb. He could think of nothing more to say. So he flew off and hid in some raspberry bushes. And he couldn't help saying to himself what a strange world it was and what strange persons there were in it. <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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