really exasperated now. “A ll moles have thick fur. But you aren’t look ing far enough. Have you seen your feet?” Digger held the mirror down so that he could get a good view of those ugly bare claws. His face fell. His mother went on, “ Surely you don’t think they are handsome, do you? What about your sharp, pointed teeth? And if you could see your tail with those few stiff bristles on it, you wouldn’t like it, either. You see, some parts of us are attractive, but other parts are made for use, not beauty. So don’t you think it is silly to be so vain?” Digger was quite crestfallen. He was too ashamed to raise his eyes. Then his mother spoke very kindly.
THE MIRROR AMD THE MlOLE
by Betty Bruechert
Illustration: Violet Lanquist
their mother, “ and if you all work real hard, we will have a midnight snack of your favorite dessert.” “ Hur ray!” shouted all the little moles, and Digger’s eyes sparkled because he knew what that meant. So at twilight eight small moles began digging with all their might and main. After a time Digger ob served an interesting mound of dirt not far away so he went over to
Tkigger was a gay little star-nosed llm ole. That means he was not just * a n ordinary mole, but a special kind, with a wee rosette of flesh on the top of his sharp nose. Six inches Long, he had a thick, brownish-black coat of fur, tiny, black, shoe-button eyes and funny little holes on the sides of his head for ears. While his two back legs were long and narrow with slender claws, his forelimbs
“ Digger, you are just a little mole, and you have had no opportunity be fore this to learn how very, very stupid it is to be vain of one’s appearance. If we thought about our looks very much, we would amount to noth ing and we would ac complish very little that was worth-while in the world.” Then she smiled. “ So we will just forget it, won’t we, Digger?” The little mole grinned, and
were short and strong and to them were at tached flat shovel-shaped claws. He looked like an odd little barrel wrapped in velvet, for his neck was so short his head seemed to rest right upon his shoulders. Digger lived under a hillock in a cozy burrow, lined with soft leaves. From a central under ground excavation ex tended in all directions halls and galleries and
"It makes the most beautiful pictures I ever saw in my life!1
then he laughed outright at himself, which is the best kind of laughter there is. “ N ow , get busy and make up for lost time,” said his mother, “ and when you finish, we’ll have your fav orite dessert.” “Oh, yummy, cater pillars!” shouted Digger, and soon the dirt was flying thick and fast as he completely forgot himself and his looks in the fulfillment of the pur pose for which moles are bom. * $ ♦ # ♦ Once in a while boys and girls, but especially girls I am sorry to say, become vain and silly because of their nice clothes, pretty curls, bright jewelry, and even of their own faces. They are just as foolish as was little Digger. In the first place, God made our bodies, and if there is anything nice about them, it is nothing for which we should be proud. Then too no one is completely beautiful. God has evened it up pretty well by giving each one some nice points and some features that are not so attractive, just to keep us from being “ puffed up.” So it would be silly for boys and girls to sit down and admire themselves. Besides, no one likes a vain person, and soon a boy or girl like that would have no friends at all. But even more important, God has
investigate. It was not long until his mother missed him. Looking around, she noticed him sitting perfectly still, gazing intently at a shiny object he was holding. He was so engrossed in it that he did not hear her approach ing footsteps and did not even move when she called his name. “ Digger, what on earth are you doing? Why aren’t you digging as your father said?” He looked up dreamily. “ Oh, Mother, see what I found! It is the most wonderful thing I ever saw!” His mother came closer. “Why, Digger, it is just a piece of broken looking-glass. I guess someone threw it away. It is no value to anyone.” “Mother!” exclaimed Digger in astonishment. “ It makes the most beautiful pictures I ever saw in my life!” He gazed into the mirror with an ecstatic expression. His mother sat down beside him. “You foolish little mole,” she said, “ Don’t you know you are looking at your own face?” “Well, yes, Mother, but did you ever see such shiny black eyes and such a beautiful star as this one on my nose?” “ Of course, we all have them.” “ But, Mother, look at my soft, silky fur. It is just like velvet.” “ So what?” Digger’s mother was
even a channel for carrying water. His parents had worked long and hard to provide such a comfortable home for Digger and his five brothers and sisters, and the family spent much of their time there. In fact, they seldom came to the surface ex cept late in the day, and if anything frightened them, they would dart into this nest at a moment’s notice. Moles are shy and prefer to work in the dark. More than anything else in the world Digger loved to dig. This was not only because he enjoyed helping with the homemaking, but because the earth contained such delicious things to eat! He was fond of all kinds of insect larvae. But what do you think was his favorite food— fat, juicy, furry caterpillars! One day Digger’s father made a wonderful discovery. In an old scrap heap in the backyard of an aban doned house he found grubs of all kinds—thousands of them. In the moist soil beneath discarded tin cans wriggled long lovely earthworms. So he ran home and announced the good news to the family: “ Tonight, as soon as it is dark, we will start dig ging. We can lay up fobd for months to come without running the risks we do when we dig in gardens and around fruit trees.” “Yes,” added
THE KING'S BUSINESS
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