But Mr. Meadow Mouse said that he didn't see how he could do that. "Now that it rains there's no more room under your umbrella than there was a few moments ago, when the sun was shining."

"You're mistaken," said Grandfather Mole.

Mr. Meadow Mouse looked surprised. "I don't understand how that can be,"

he muttered.

"This toadstool is growing bigger all the time," Grandfather Mole explained.

"Very well!" said Mr. Meadow Mouse. "If you think there's room for two, I'll crowd in." As he spoke he wedged himself between Grandfather Mole and the stem of the toadstool umbrella. And immediately Grandfather Mole found himself out in the rain. The old gentleman didn't like that very well; and he said as much, too.

"It's plain that your umbrella didn't grow as much as you thought," Mr.

Meadow Mouse retorted.

"You're mistaken," Grandfather Mole told him once more. "My umbrella grew exactly as much as I expected it would. But there was one thing I forgot."

"What was that?"

"You were growing at the same time," Grandfather Mole replied.

"Yes! And there's another thing that you forgot!" Mr. Meadow Mouse exclaimed.

"I doubt it," said Grandfather Mole. And though he didn't ask what it was, Mr. Meadow Mouse told him.

"You were growing too!" he cried.

But Grandfather Mole couldn't agree with Mr. Meadow Mouse.

"I'm too old to grow any more," he said.

"Pardon me," said Mr. Meadow Mouse, "but I don't see how a person with your well known appet.i.te can help growing fat. And anyhow I'm sorry you're out in the rain. But it's certainly not my fault."

"We won't discuss that," Grandfather Mole told him. "And since I don't want to get wet I'm going home.... I hope you'll take good care of my new sunshade. And please don't forget to return it!" he added anxiously.

"I'll leave it right here for you," Mr. Meadow Mouse promised.

Though Grandfather Mole was far from satisfied he crawled into the ground and left Mr. Meadow Mouse to enjoy the rain pattering on the top of the toadstool. And the next day, to his great relief, Grandfather Mole found his sunshade in the same spot. Mr. Meadow Mouse hadn't taken it away. To tell the truth, he had tried to; but he had found that he couldn't move it. Grandfather Mole said it was the first sunshade that a borrower had ever returned to him.

And that was the truth. For he had never owned a sunshade before.

XVI

GRANDFATHER MOLE'S VISITOR

WHATEVER Grandfather Mole's neighbors might say of him, they never could claim that he was lazy. He was always busy. When he wasn't eating or sleeping you could be quite sure that he was digging. He never seemed to be satisfied with his house, but was forever making what he called "improvements." If there was one thing he liked, it was plenty of halls.

He had halls running in every direction. And since a person could never tell in which one Grandfather Mole might be, visitors might roam about his dark galleries a long time without finding him.

If anybody happened to point out to Grandfather Mole that his house had such a drawback, Grandfather Mole always answered that he liked his house just as it was and that he wouldn't change it for anything--except to add a few more halls.

He was very set in his ways. He claimed that he wouldn't be comfortable in a house that had maybe only two halls--a front and a back one, as Billy Woodchuck's dwelling was known to contain.

Maybe that was the reason why Grandfather Mole never went visiting. And as for anybody else visiting him--well, what was the use when most likely you never could find him?

Nevertheless there was one of Grandfather Mole's neighbors who called at his house frequently, and for the very reason that he knew he could probably do exactly as he pleased. Far from trying to find Grandfather Mole, Mr. Meadow Mouse always took pains to avoid him. And if by chance he met Grandfather Mole in one of his galleries Mr. Meadow Mouse was always extremely polite--and ready to run at a moment's notice.

During corn-planting time Mr. Meadow Mouse went regularly down into a gallery of Grandfather Mole's that ran under a corner of the cornfield.

And somehow he soon grew quite plump.

Now, Grandfather Mole had met Mr. Meadow Mouse two or three times in that particular gallery. And he was not slow to notice that his visitor looked fatter each time he saw him. So one day Grandfather Mole asked Mr. Meadow Mouse bluntly what he was doing there.

"I'm taking a stroll!" Mr. Meadow Mouse told him meekly.

"Be careful"--Grandfather Mole warned him--"be careful that you don't take anything else!"

Trembling slightly (for Grandfather Mole could be terribly severe when he wanted to be) Mr. Meadow Mouse said that he hoped Grandfather Mole didn't mind if a person took a little exercise now and then in those underground halls. "On a warm summer's day it's delightfully cool down here," Mr. Meadow Mouse murmured.

His speech pleased Grandfather Mole.

"I'm glad there's some one that agrees with me!" he exclaimed. "Most people think I'm queer because I like to live underground."

Mr. Meadow Mouse hastened to a.s.sure him that _he_ didn't think him queer--not in the least!

"Thank you! Thank you!" Grandfather Mole said. "And since you're a person of more sense than I had supposed you're welcome to ramble through my halls--so long as you don't take anything except exercise and a stroll."

Then it was Mr. Meadow Mouse's turn to thank Grandfather Mole.

"I feel better," he said, "now that you've given me permission to come here. For to tell the truth, I've often felt that I was taking a chance."

So matters went on smoothly for a time. And Mr. Meadow Mouse spent hours in the gallery under the cornfield. And he grew fatter every day.

Naturally he did not take such pains to dodge Grandfather Mole--after the talk they had had. And when the two met one evening Grandfather Mole stopped Mr. Meadow Mouse.

"There's something I want to say to you," he remarked. "I notice you're looking extremely well-fed. And I hope you're not eating any of my angleworms."

Mr. Meadow Mouse laughed right in Grandfather Mole's face.

"Oh, no!" he replied.

"Nor any of my grubs or bugs?" Grandfather Mole persisted.

"Certainly not!" said Mr. Meadow Mouse, making a wry face as he spoke--for he was rather a dainty person. And then he whispered something to Grandfather Mole.

"Oh!" said Grandfather Mole. "So that's it, eh? Well, I don't mind. I never eat anything of that sort. Take all you want of it!"