The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin

This is a tale about a tail — a tail belonging to a little red squirrel, and his name was Nutkin. Nutkin had a brother called Twinkleberry, and a great many cousins. They lived in a wood at the edge of a lake. In the middle of the lake, there was an island covered with trees and bushes — and in the tallest oak tree on the island lived an old brown owl, whose name was Old Brown. One autumn, when the nuts were ripe, the squirrels decided to gather nuts upon the island. They made little rafts out of twigs and paddled across the lake, using their tails as sails. Each squirrel carried a small offering for Old Brown, for it was his island, after all, and one must always ask permission.

The squirrels laid their gifts at Old Brown's door — three fat mice, neatly wrapped in leaves. "Old Mr. Brown, will you favour us with permission to gather nuts upon your island?" they asked, most respectfully. But Nutkin, who had no respect for anybody, danced up and down like a sunbeam, and sang a ridiculous riddle: "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 tell me this riddle, I'll give you a groat!" Old Brown took no notice whatsoever. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

The next day, the squirrels brought a fine fat mole as an offering. And the day after that, seven little fishes from the stream. But every single day, while the other squirrels gathered nuts politely and quietly, Nutkin bounced and pranced and sang more ridiculous riddles, each one sillier than the last. He tickled Old Brown with a nettle. He dropped a beetle upon his nose. He danced upon the owl's great round head. Old Brown said nothing. He sat perfectly still, with his enormous eyes half closed. But if Nutkin had been paying attention — which he was not — he would have noticed that Old Brown's feathers were beginning to ruffle.

On the sixth day, the squirrels brought a beautiful egg in a little rush basket as their gift. They bowed politely, as before. But Nutkin, bold as brass, ran right up to Old Brown and shouted the most impertinent riddle yet, right into the owl's ear. This time, Old Brown opened his eyes very wide. Two great, round, golden eyes, staring directly at Nutkin. And suddenly, Old Brown was not sleepy anymore.

In one swift, silent movement, Old Brown seized Nutkin in his talons. He caught him by the tail and carried him into his hollow tree, and Nutkin was held tight, upside-down, in the dark. Old Brown intended to skin him alive. That is what owls do with impudent squirrels. Nutkin wriggled and kicked and pulled with all his might. He twisted and turned and squirmed, until at last — SNAP! — his tail broke in two, and he rushed out of the hollow tree and scrambled down the trunk, chattering with fright.

And to this day, if you meet Nutkin up a tree and ask him a riddle, he will scold you and stamp his feet and throw sticks at you, and shout: "Cuck-cuck-cuck-cuck-cur-r-r-r-cuck-k!" Which is not a very polite answer. But then, Nutkin is not a very polite squirrel. He still has half a tail, if you look carefully. And he still cannot resist a riddle. But he has never, ever gone back to Owl Island. And the moral of this tale is simply this: there is a great difference between being clever and being wise, and even the cheekiest squirrel must learn where to stop.