The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin

This is a Tale about a tail, a tail that belonged to a little red squirrel named Nutkin.

He had a brother called Twinkleberry and a great many cousins, and they all lived in the woods at the edge of a lake.

In the middle of the lake there is an island covered with trees and nut bushes, and among those trees stands a hollow oak. It is the home of an owl called Old Brown.

One autumn, when the nuts were ripe and the leaves on the hazel bushes were golden and green, Nutkin and Twinkleberry and all the other little squirrels came out of the woods and down to the edge of the lake.

They made little rafts out of twigs and paddled away across the water to Owl Island to gather nuts. Each squirrel had a little sack and a big oar, and spread out his tail for a sail.

They had brought three fat mice as a present for Old Brown, and they set them down on his doorstep. Then Twinkleberry and the other little squirrels each made a low bow and said politely, “Old Mr. Brown, will you favor us with your permission to gather nuts on your island?”

But Nutkin’s manners were excessively impertinent. He bobbed up and down like a little red cherry and sang.

Riddle me, riddle me, rot-tot-tote! A little wee man, in a red red coat! A staff in his hand, and a stone in his throat; if you’ll tell me this riddle, I’ll give you a groat.

Now, this riddle is as old as the hills, and Old Brown paid no attention at all to Nutkin. He shut his eyes tight and went to sleep.

The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts and sailed home in the evening.

The next morning they all came back to Owl Island. Twinkleberry and the others brought a fine fat mole, laid it on the stone in front of Old Brown’s door, and said, “Mr. Brown, will you favor us with your gracious permission to gather some more nuts?”

But Nutkin had no respect for anyone. He danced up and down, tickling old Mr. Brown with a nettle, and sang.

Old Mr. B! Riddle-me-ree! Hitty Pitty within the wall, Hitty Pitty without the wall; if you touch Hitty Pitty, Hitty Pitty will bite you!

The owl woke with a start and carried the mole into his house, and he shut the door in Nutkin’s face.

Before long a thin thread of blue smoke from a wood fire curled up from the top of the tree. Nutkin peeped through the keyhole and sang.

A house full, a hole full! And you cannot gather a bowl-full!

The squirrels searched for nuts all over the island and filled their little sacks. Nutkin gathered none. He picked oak apples, yellow and scarlet, and sat on a beech stump playing marbles and watching Old Brown’s door.

On the third day the squirrels got up very early and went fishing, and they caught seven fat minnows as a present for Old Brown. They paddled over the lake and landed under a crooked chestnut tree on Owl Island.

Twinkleberry and six other little squirrels each carried a fat minnow. Nutkin, who had no nice manners, brought no present at all. He ran on ahead and sang.

The man in the wilderness said to me, how many strawberries grow in the sea? I answered him as I thought good, as many red herrings as grow in the wood.

But Old Brown took no interest in riddles, not even when the answer was handed to him.

On the fourth day the squirrels brought six fat beetles, which were as good as plums in a plum pudding to Old Brown. Each beetle was carefully wrapped in a dock leaf and fastened with a pine-needle pin.

Nutkin sang as rudely as ever.

Old Mr. B! Riddle-me-ree! Flour of England, fruit of Spain, met together in a shower of rain; put in a bag tied round with a string, if you’ll tell me this riddle, I’ll give you a ring!

That was silly of Nutkin, because he had no ring to give.

The other squirrels hunted up and down the nut bushes. Nutkin picked robin’s pincushions off a briar bush and stuck them full of pine-needle pins.

On the fifth day the squirrels brought wild honey. It was so sweet and sticky that they licked their fingers as they set it down on the stone. They had taken it from a bumblebees’ nest at the very tiptop of the hill.

Nutkin skipped up and down and sang.

Hum-a-bum! Buzz! Buzz! Hum-a-bum buzz! As I went over Tipple-tine I met a flock of bonny swine; some yellow-nacked, some yellow-backed! They were the very bonniest swine that e’er went over Tipple-tine.

Old Brown turned up his eyes in disgust at Nutkin’s rudeness.

But he ate up the honey!

The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts. Nutkin sat on a big flat rock and played ninepins with a crab apple and some green fir cones.

On the sixth day, which was Saturday, the squirrels came for the last time. They brought a new-laid egg in a little rush basket as a parting present for Old Brown.

Nutkin ran on ahead, laughing and shouting.

Humpty Dumpty lies in the beck, with a white counterpane round his neck, forty doctors and forty wrights, cannot put Humpty Dumpty to rights!

Now, Old Brown did take an interest in eggs. He opened one eye and shut it again, but still he did not speak.

Nutkin grew more and more impertinent.

Old Mr. B! Old Mr. B! Hickamore, Hackamore, on the King’s kitchen door; all the King’s horses, and all the King’s men, couldn’t drive Hickamore, Hackamore, off the King’s kitchen door.

He danced up and down like a sunbeam, and still Old Brown said nothing at all. So Nutkin began again.

Arthur O’Bower has broken his band, he comes roaring up the land! The King of Scots with all his power cannot turn Arthur of the Bower!

Nutkin made a whirring noise like the wind, took a running jump, and landed right on top of Old Brown’s head!

All at once there was a flutterment and a scufflement and a loud “Squeak!”

The other squirrels scampered away into the bushes. When they crept back, very carefully, and peeped around the tree, there sat Old Brown on his doorstep, quite still, with his eyes closed, as if nothing had happened.

But Nutkin was in his vest pocket!

This looks like the end of the story; but it isn’t.

Old Brown carried Nutkin into his house and held him up by the tail, meaning to skin him. But Nutkin pulled so very hard that his tail broke in two, and he dashed up the staircase and escaped through the attic window.

And to this day, if you meet Nutkin up a tree and ask him a riddle, he will throw sticks at you, stamp his feet, and scold, and shout, “Cuck-cuck-cuck-cur-r-r-cuck-k-k!”