A Song the Size of a Crumb

Under the hill there was a big round burrow. In the burrow there was one long kitchen table, and every night all the animals of the meadow ate their supper at it together.

Tilly was a harvest mouse, the smallest animal in the whole burrow. She was so small that she could not see over the table. So at supper she sat on top of the sugar bowl. Every time she wriggled, the lid went clink.

Tilly’s voice was small too. When she said good morning, everybody had to hold very still and lean very close to hear it. Some mornings all they heard was the sugar bowl.

By the stove there was one cradle, and in the cradle was Baby Badger. He was the newest animal in the burrow. Everybody took turns putting him to bed, and tonight it was Big Bear’s turn.

Big Bear yawned an enormous yawn. “I am so sleepy,” said Big Bear. “As soon as that baby is asleep, I am going straight to bed.”

But Baby Badger was not asleep. He was lying on his back, kicking his feet at the ceiling, wide awake.

Tilly looked at Big Bear’s droopy eyes. She wanted Big Bear to get to bed. She wanted everybody to get to bed. But a lullaby needs a big voice, thought Tilly. So she did not offer. She just sat on the sugar bowl and watched. Clink.

Big Bear sat down beside the cradle, took a big breath, and sang.

“HUSH-a-bye, BADGER, and LIE very STILL!”

Big Bear’s voice was large and kind and very, very loud. Up on the dresser, the teacups began to shake. Rattle, rattle, rattle, all along the shelf.

Baby Badger clapped his paws. “Too big!” said Baby Badger.

“Oh dear,” said Big Bear.

Goose got up from the table and shook out her feathers.

“Move over,” said Goose. “I shall do it.”

She leaned over the cradle and sang her own lullaby. Goose sang the way geese do, which is mostly honking.

“HONK-a-bye, baby! Honk, honk, HONK!”

Baby Badger sat straight up. “HONK!” said Baby Badger. “Too big!”

Goose took Baby Badger’s spare sock out from under her wing. She always kept it there, just in case. She put it on his head. It did not help. She put it back.

Big Bear yawned again. This yawn was so wide that Tilly could very nearly see Big Bear’s pudding.

Then Old Hare put down a teacup. “What that baby needs,” said Old Hare, “is a good long song.”

It was a very long song. It was all about turnips. The first verse was about a small turnip. The second verse was about a bigger turnip. By the ninth verse the turnip was as big as a haystack, and there were still eight verses to go.

Baby Badger counted the verses on his fingers. When he ran out of fingers, he counted on his toes. When Old Hare sang the seventeenth verse at last, Baby Badger held up all his fingers and most of his toes. He was still wide awake.

“Too big!” said Baby Badger.

Big Bear’s head nodded down, and bobbed up, and nodded down again. Goose took out the spare sock and put it on the teapot. That did not help either.

Tilly looked at Big Bear, so tired. She looked at Baby Badger, so awake. Then she thought about good mornings. When Tilly talked, everybody had to hold very still and lean very close.

Tilly climbed down off the sugar bowl. Clink, went the lid.

She ran across the floor, up the leg of the cradle and along the blanket, all the way to the edge.

“May I try?” said Tilly.

Nobody heard her. But Baby Badger saw her. He stopped kicking and looked at the tiny mouse on the edge of his cradle.

And Tilly began to sing a song the size of a crumb.

“Small as a crumb, and soft as a sock.”

Baby Badger could hardly hear it. He held very still. He leaned very close.

“Warm as the stove, and slow as the clock.”

Now Baby Badger was as still as a stone. The whole kitchen was quiet. Even Goose held still.

“Sleep, little badger, till morning o’clock.”

And Baby Badger’s eyes were shut.

Tilly started to climb out of the cradle. But she could not. A small warm paw had curled round her tail.

Baby Badger opened one eye, just a crack. “Just right,” said Baby Badger, very sleepily. Then he closed it again.

Big Bear leaned down very close, the way everybody did for Tilly.

“Just right,” said Big Bear, in the smallest voice a bear has. “Thank you, Tilly. Now we can all go to bed.”

So Tilly stayed where she was. She curled up in the corner of the cradle, warm and proud.

Goose took the spare sock out from under her wing one last time. She tucked it over Baby Badger and Tilly, like a blanket.

“Just in case,” said Goose, very softly.

This time it helped.

Big Bear carried the sugar bowl back to the dresser, so gently that the lid did not clink at all. Then everybody tiptoed off to bed, on the very ends of their toes, which is hard work for a bear. One by one the lamps went out, until there was only the warm red glow of the stove. Big Bear was asleep in no time, snoring very softly, for a bear.

And there in the cradle, under one spare sock, Baby Badger slept all night long.

And curled up beside him, warm and proud, so did Tilly.