A Forest Story/The Lost Peg

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Josef Kožíšek4268679A Forest Story — The Lost Peg1929Rafael De Szalatnay

ŠUMAŘŮV KOLÍK.

THE LOST PEG.

Zoom! Squeak! Scrape! Squeal! Under the ferns in the dappled sunlight, the musicians tune their fiddles. The Dandelion lets flutter a shower of feathery bits of down to remind them of the time. Hurry! Be ready, fiddlers. They are coming now; the guests and the relatives, the bride and the groom.

This is the wedding feast of Mouse. Not little Brown Mouse from the field, nor Grey Mouse from the house, but dainty Princess White Mouse who has married White-foot Wood Mouse at sunset. They march under the arch of sword grass and wild rose garlands to the festooned cottage of the happy couple.

Zoom! Squeak! Scrape! Squeal!

Here comes the Drone, the Maestro. How he scolds and coaxes the fiddlers! He looks at the big violas. He looks at the little violins. He smiles and pats his own great cello, and points out the marvelous new peg in it. He raps upon a stone, and they begin to play. Happy Maestro! The feast is rich and fine, the fiddlers merry, he is there to lead the orchestra. It is a splendid wedding.

Here comes the bridal party. The little Bride and Groom march around and around. The young folks sing the wedding song. The old folks join in the chorus. Now they take partners and dance the polka. The orchestra plays as the Bride and Groom lead off around the room. The fat aunts whirl in the corners and the thin aunts spin in the middle of the dance floor. Outside, under the windows, spreading their flowery skirts in the soft moonlight, the grandmothers twist and turn like coffee-mills.

Forward, backward, point your toe! Even the babies on the benches are part of the rhythm with their little gurgles and waving arms.

Midnight! The harebells chime the hour. The feasting is begun. Sweet wine and wedding cake, wedding cake and wine. The Maestro is a wonderful leader of music. The Maestro is a wonderful leader of eating. Never mind the music now! Never mind the other fiddlers! The acorn cups are so small he must empty dozens of them. Joy is like an empty well. The wedding cake is cut in such thin slices he must munch platters of them. Never mind the dancers! Everyone must eat and drink. After the others are finished and waiting for more music, Maestro must still eat and drink. The wedding guests will have to wait for him.

Midnight! The magic hour of ghosts. Strange things happen around the big cello, standing idly and silently waiting in the corner.

Zoom! Boom! Bang! Thunder and Twang!

Snap goes the string on the cello, and the new peg is gone. It has disappeared completely. The fiddlers and Maestro cannot find it. The little Bride and Groom cannot find it. The thin aunts look into the acorn cups and the fat aunts into the saucers, and the grandmothers search through the flower beds for it. No one can find the nice new peg, flown from the Maestro’s fiddle.

The hours slip by. One by one the wedding guests go sadly away and the relatives madly home. The merry party has not been able to dance till dawn, and Maestro in vain tries to make peace with his indignant friends. They vow they’ll never have him lead the orchestra at carnival, wedding or christening, no, never! At least not until he finds that peg, so mysteriously snatched away from the neglected cello.

Up and down the pathways, among the banks of primrose and the stalks of thistle, poor Maestro, greedy Maestro, looks for a trace of the lost peg. He rubs his legs together, and his wings against each other. »Zoom! Squeak! Scrape! Squeal! Who has taken that peg?«