Billy Enjoy(ed) His House of Logs

Billy smiled to himself as he stretched out in his favorite chair beside the fireplace.

“Yessir, I have a spiffy house now. Old Man North Wind won’t get in this winter, you betcha. Help yerself to some of that good apple cider, compliments of the boss, hisself.”

   One of his little guests, Susie Skunk looked most surprised. “How in the world did you get on the good side of Farmer Brown? My, if I ever so much as poke my head outta the woods he’s out with his shotgun and I must flee.”

    “Well you do have somewhat of a, er, nasty reputation for givin’ er, Mrs. Browning, the hen, a bit o’ trouble whenever she has a fluffy flock of chicks following’ her.”

    “Me!” Miss Skunk looked most indignant. “That’s Wiley Fox that causes all the trouble! A little gal like me—why I’m innocent!”

“Sure, sure,”  Billy chuckled comfortably. “Care for some more buttered popcorn?”

            “Thanks, Billy, but I really prefer something more---“suddenly her face blushed red, and Billy sure did wonder what she was about to say. Maybe she did have a hankering for those tasty morsels that waddled around the yard come springtime more than she wanted to let on.  Just then she started coughing violently into her napkin and Billy pounded her on the back.

    “Got a bone-er, I mean a kernel in my throat,” she gasped.

            Billy winked at Flossy Kat and cupped his hand around his mouth. “She ain’t ever gonna get on the good side of Farmer Brown if she don’t own up to her faults.”

            Connie, (Conscience) his own cat, glared at him until he asked what ailed her, and then she turned meaningfully to stare at one of the many fine bricks that adorned the walls. Not at the ordinary mud bricks, oh no. They would never catch her eye. She was looking at the cedar ones that had Billy’s name emblazoned on them. Cedar bricks right next to the fireplace. Surrounding it like a majestic frame.

            Billy felt like his lovely pink skin was turning an ugly red, so he hurried to the kitchen to refill the metallic blue apple cider jug.

            Well, when he stepped out of their sight for just a few minutes, his friends started monkeying around. He never did get the story quite straight, but the one that seemed most plausible involved Tuffy Terrier. Apparently Susie had dared him to grab a twig that was dangling out of the fireplace, and when he hesitated, they all taunted him; and Tuffy wasn’t about to take that lying down. With a yip and a wagging tag he snatched the brand out of the fire and chased his tormenters with it.

                        Oops, not a good idea. Some embers fell on the hearth rug, and you know what happened next. Pretty soon the smoldering flames crept over to Billy’s fancy cedar border where they sure did a lot of damage.

       I’ll say this much for Billy’s friends, though. They helped in whatever way they could. Perky Parrot hooked a mug into his beak and tried to quench the flames that way. Much as they hated water, the two members of the cat family soaked towels in the square metal tub and unitedly dragged them over to the rug. Tuffy Terrier, feeling remorseful, worked hardest of all. He carried many a bucket of water and poured it—into the fireplace-- and of course it ran out all over the place from there!

            Got to admit though, Billy was feeling pretty hot under the collar by then. “This is overkill,” he squealed.

            Mixie Mouse squeaked in fright. “What do you mean by that?”

            “Oh, sorry, Mixie. No harm meant. With all their overzealous efforts to help, my house is over wet!”

            Each of his friends suddenly realized that they needed to be elsewhere about then, so only Mixie was left to do her tiny part to help clean up the damage.

            Billy, bless his heart, stayed awake long in to the night once again, partly because Ole Man North Wind quickly found the hole where it had burned through, and laughed mocking at him. Billy plugged his ears with his fingers. Wood, hay and stubble, wood, hay and stubble: where did I hear that phrase? Ah, yes, Farmer Brown warned me not to use wood hay and stubble in my building.  No point in blamin’ my friends.  Maybe Tuffy started the fire, this time, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. Gotta get in the habit of using good character bricks an’ only character bricks in whatever I build from now on. No gossip, no blamin’ …He was getting too sleepy to think any further. Yup, only character bricks. He rolled on his side and was soon fast asleep. Annoyed that he couldn’t torment Billy any more, Old North Wind looked around for someone else to vex.

THE END.

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