A Weekly Visit of Tales, Tidings, and Old-Time Country Comfort

Welcome!

It’s been a lively week in Honey Hill Country.

Before we go any further, the editor is once again obliged to remind readers — especially the newer subscribers who have joined us during the recent festivities — that The Hearth & Holler Gazette is a work of cheerful fiction set in an entirely imaginary corner of the Ozarks. Any resemblance to actual towns, rabbits, roosters, or enthusiastic carrot-throwing contests is purely coincidental, though we admit the similarities can sometimes be striking.

And lively it has been.

What began a week ago as a curious little rabbit celebration — complete with horns, races, and the occasional carrot pie — has now grown into something approaching a full-scale countryside revelry. Carrozelas are being heard from town squares, farm lanes, and ridge roads from Round Corners to Butterfield, and the sound of horns echoing through the hollers has been joined by a chorus few expected.

The roosters have begun answering.

Farmers across the region report that each time a rabbit blows a Carrozela horn, at least one rooster somewhere nearby feels duty-bound to crow in reply. What began as a novelty has now grown into a sort of musical conversation between town and barnyard, with horns sounding in the streets and rooster calls rolling back across the hills.

The result is a countryside that wakes early.

If that were not enough excitement for one week, another unexpected development has taken hold of the festivities. What began as a simple encouragement shouted by Little Red Bear to hurry along a group of young racers has now become the unofficial motto of March Madness Days.

The phrase, repeated with great enthusiasm by children and rabbits alike, is heard everywhere from the game fields to the bakery steps:

“Hippity, hoppity — let’s go!”

And go they have.

From new games and contests to dancing in the streets, Honey Hill Country appears to have discovered that when rabbits decide to celebrate Spring, they do so with remarkable dedication.

The Gazette will attempt, as faithfully as possible, to keep up.

So, with that said — Please come on in. Your paper awaits . . . . . .

And would you prefer Coffee or Tea with your newspaper?

THE HEARTH & HOLLER GAZETTE

Sharing Stories and Smiles from Little Red Bear’s World
— A Weekly Visit of Tales, Tidings, and Old-Time Country Comfort —
Serving Honey Hill, Hopper’s Holler, and Beyond | Est. 1904

Saturday Morning Edition

March 14, 1904
Honey Hill Country • Cricket Hollow County

Vol. I — No. 8
Price: Five Cents (If You Have It) • Free to Read (If You Do Not)

Published Weekly on Saturday Mornings
From the Front Porches, Back Rooms, Kitchens, Workshops, Hillsides, and Quiet Corners of Honey Hill Country

“HIPPITY HOPPITY LETS GO!”

Local News from Around the Holler

Filed by Percival “Percy” Puddlesniff, News-Hound
With Field Notes from Rusty the Fairydiddle, Roving Reporter

“Hippity, Hoppity — Let’s Go!” Cry Sweeps the Rabbit Games

Round Corners — What began as a simple word of encouragement has quickly become the most commonly heard phrase in Honey Hill Country this week.

Witnesses report that the now-famous cry first appeared late Tuesday morning at the children’s field beside the fairgrounds in Round Corners, where a group of young rabbits had gathered for a small skipping race organized as part of the ongoing March Madness Days festivities.

According to several reliable observers — and a number of unreliable but enthusiastic ones — the young contestants had begun to bunch up at the starting line, whispering and fidgeting and generally taking far longer than any proper race requires to begin.

At that moment, Little Red Bear, who had been assisting with the games, stepped forward and clapped his paws together.

“Alright now,” he called with a friendly grin, “Hippity, Hoppity — let’s go!”

The effect was immediate.

The little racers launched forward at once, ears bouncing and feet flying across the field while the crowd broke into laughter and applause. Within moments, the phrase was being repeated by children along the sidelines, then by the rabbit competitors themselves, and before the afternoon races had concluded it had already spread across the fairgrounds.

By evening the call could be heard throughout Round Corners, shouted from wagon seats, bakery steps, and porch railings wherever the festivities carried on.

By the following morning it had spread still further.

Merchants in Butterfield report hearing the phrase from traveling rabbit musicians passing through town with Carrozela horns. Farmers arriving in market wagons have been heard repeating it as they guide their teams down muddy lanes, and several schoolchildren were observed using it to encourage a somewhat reluctant goat to cross a bridge near the mill road.

“Never seen a thing travel so quick,” remarked one onlooker from Packet’s Landing. “It’s like someone lit a fuse.”

Indeed, the words now appear to have become the unofficial motto of March Madness Days. Rabbits shout it before races, spectators cheer it from the sidelines, and even a few roosters — perhaps confused by the general enthusiasm — have begun crowing immediately afterward.

Little Red Bear himself seemed mildly surprised to learn the phrase had taken on such popularity.

“Well now,” he said when asked about the matter, “sometimes folks just need a little encouragement to get moving. Turns out rabbits do too.”

Meanwhile the celebrations show no sign of slowing. New games and entertainments are appearing almost daily, horns continue to sound across the countryside, and the Gazette has received several reports of dancing in the streets as the festivities grow louder and livelier by the day.

If the past week is any indication, Honey Hill Country may expect to hear the cheerful cry echoing through its towns and hollers for some time yet.

And judging from the enthusiasm of the young racers who started it all, that suits everyone just fine.

Egg Shortage Reported as Hens Protest the Noise

By Virgil Stone — Agricultural Correspondent

Butterfield — An unexpected consequence of the ongoing March Madness Days festivities has begun to trouble breakfast tables across Honey Hill Country.

Eggs are becoming scarce.

Farmers from Round Corners to Packet’s Landing report that their hens have lately shown a remarkable unwillingness to go about their usual laying duties, a circumstance widely blamed on the growing racket caused by Carrozela horns, crowing roosters, and general celebration throughout the countryside.

“It’s the noise,” explained one poultry keeper from the lower ridge. “Every time one of those rabbit horns blows, my rooster answers, the neighbor’s rooster answers, and before long the whole barnyard is carrying on like a brass band. The hens can’t get a moment’s peace.”

Virgil Stone, the Gazette’s agricultural correspondent, confirmed that similar complaints have been arriving from farms across all three counties.

“Egg production depends a good deal on calm routine,” Stone explained in his weekly market notes. “Hens prefer steady light, quiet surroundings, and predictable conditions. What they do not prefer, apparently, is a festival of horns, dancing rabbits, and competitive crowing at all hours of the day.”

As a result, egg supplies reaching local markets have thinned noticeably this week, with several café proprietors already reporting difficulty securing their usual deliveries.

Not everyone, however, has been caught unprepared.

One enterprising poultry farmer appears to have solved the problem rather handily.

At Quiet Nest Poultry Farm, located a short distance outside Butterfield where the festival sounds reach only faintly across the fields, Mrs. Cordelia Pritchard has taken what some neighbors are calling an unusually refined approach to hen management.

Rather than attempting to quiet the celebrations themselves — a task widely considered impossible — Mrs. Pritchard chose instead to quiet the hens.

Visitors to Quiet Nest report that the windows of the laying house are kept gently curtained to soften outside distractions. Candles are placed along the walls in the evening hours to provide steady, calming light. Most curious of all, Mrs. Pritchard is said to sit nearby in the afternoons playing soft fiddle tunes intended to soothe the birds.

The result has been impressive.

While other farms report dwindling egg baskets, Quiet Nest Poultry Farm has continued producing at nearly its usual pace.

Local grocers have taken notice.

“Mrs. Pritchard’s eggs are about the only ones arriving regular this week,” remarked one Butterfield shopkeeper. “If the rabbits keep up their celebrations, she may end up supplying the whole county.”

When asked about her methods, Mrs. Pritchard merely smiled and adjusted the bow on her fiddle.

“Hens,” she said simply, “are creatures that appreciate a little peace and proper music.”

Whether other poultry farmers will adopt similar musical techniques remains to be seen. In the meantime, Virgil Stone advises readers that egg prices may remain somewhat elevated until the countryside returns to its usual level of quiet.

Judging by the continued sound of Carrozelas across the hills, that may not be immediately forthcoming. Poultry farmers are looking forward to April.

New Dance Craze Sweeps the Rabbit Games

“The Hoppers’ Hokey Pokey” Takes the Streets

Round Corners — As if horns, races, and rooster conversations across the countryside were not excitement enough for one festival, March Madness Days has now produced an entirely new development.

There is dancing in the streets.

What began as a bit of playful stepping between rabbit musicians near the fairgrounds earlier this week has rapidly grown into the newest and most enthusiastic craze of the celebration — a dance now widely known among the rabbits as “The Hoppers’ Hokey Pokey.”

The steps, according to those attempting to explain them, are simple in theory and considerably less so in practice.

Participants place one hind foot forward, then back again, followed by a spirited hop, a turn about, and a general bouncing motion which appears to vary depending on enthusiasm, musical tempo, and the number of carrots recently consumed.

Once begun, the dance tends to spread.

Witnesses report that whenever a Carrozela horn begins playing in the town square, rabbits nearby almost immediately form a circle and begin the hopping routine, with onlookers clapping along and children attempting their own versions from the sidelines.

Before long the entire gathering is usually involved.

By Wednesday afternoon the dancing had expanded beyond the fairgrounds themselves. Several merchants along Main Street in Round Corners reported rabbits performing the steps directly in the roadway, accompanied by horns, fiddles, and an occasional washboard rhythm.

One visitor passing through town remarked that the atmosphere now resembles a countryside celebration of unusual scale.

“It’s like a Mardi Gras parade,” he said, “only with more carrots and a great deal more hopping.”

The festivities have drawn increasing crowds from nearby towns and farms, many arriving simply to watch the dancing that now erupts at nearly any hour of the day.

Little Red Bear, who has been assisting with several of the children’s events, was observed smiling at the spectacle while guiding a group of younger rabbits safely to the edge of the street.

“Well now,” he remarked calmly, “it’s hard to say exactly how these things get started.”

For the moment, however, the rabbits of Honey Hill Country appear to have little interest in stopping.

Whenever a Carrozela horn sounds across the square, the response is almost immediate.

The circle forms.

The hopping begins.

And before long the streets once again echo with laughter, music, and the unmistakable rhythm of the newest dance sensation of March Madness Days —

The Hoppers’ Hokey Pokey.

New Game Draws Cheers at the Rabbit Grounds

“Bonk the Weasel” Becomes a Festival Favorite

Round Corners — Amid the horns, races, and lively street dancing of March Madness Days, a new game has quickly become one of the most popular attractions at the festival grounds.

It is known, simply and enthusiastically, as “Bonk the Weasel.”

The rules are straightforward. Contestants stand several paces from a painted wooden target depicting a rather surprised-looking weasel and attempt to strike the center of the board by tossing a carrot with as much accuracy as possible.

The object, according to the sign posted above the booth, is to “bonk the weasel squarely between the eyes.”

The game appeared earlier this week beside the main competition field and has drawn steady crowds ever since. Participants of all ages have taken their turns testing their throwing skills, with particularly spirited attempts coming from the rabbit competitors themselves.

Each successful strike is greeted by cheers from spectators, while less accurate throws often produce a great deal of laughter as carrots sail harmlessly past the target and into the grass.

Prizes for accurate tosses include ribbons, whistles, and an occasional slice of carrot cake supplied by local bakers.

The booth attendant — a cheerful rabbit wearing a bright striped vest — reported that the line of contestants has rarely grown shorter than a dozen at any given time.

“Turns out rabbits like throwing carrots,” he explained.

Some visitors have suggested the painted weasel target bears a striking resemblance to no particular individual and should be taken in the entirely playful spirit intended by the game’s organizers.

Festival officials confirm that the attraction is meant purely as lighthearted entertainment and has quickly become one of the most photographed and discussed amusements of this year’s games.

Meanwhile, the pile of carrots stacked beside the throwing line continues to shrink steadily throughout the day as eager participants step forward for their chance.

Judging from the laughter echoing across the grounds, the rabbits of Honey Hill Country appear to be enjoying the opportunity very much indeed.

EDITOR’S DESK

— Clara Thimblewick, Editor

There are moments in the life of any community when ordinary days briefly step aside and something rather unexpected takes their place.

Honey Hill Country appears to be enjoying such a moment just now.

What began as a modest rabbit celebration — a few races, a few horns, and the sort of cheerful gathering that small towns have always known how to arrange — has, in a remarkably short span of days, grown into something considerably larger.

The horns are now heard from hill to hill.

Roosters have joined the conversation with notable enthusiasm.

Merchants report lively trade, farmers report a certain amount of lost sleep, and children seem to have discovered that any street wide enough for wagons is also wide enough for dancing.

Such developments may appear chaotic at first glance, though they reveal something rather reassuring about a place and its people.

Communities, like gardens, require occasional seasons of noise.

There are times for work, certainly — the fields will soon require it — and there are times for quiet reflection as well. But every so often a town benefits from the sort of shared merriment that reminds neighbors they are not living their days alone.

Festivals have a curious way of drawing people together who might otherwise pass one another without much notice.

A farmer pauses beside a shop window to watch a game.

A child encourages a rabbit racer.

A group of strangers suddenly find themselves laughing over the same improbable spectacle.

And before long, a whole countryside seems to be sharing the same cheerful moment.

The Gazette will not attempt to predict precisely how long the present festivities will continue. Honey Hill Country has never been a place particularly inclined toward strict timetables when it comes to enjoyment.

For now, however, it appears the season has arrived for horns, laughter, and the occasional spirited dance in the street.

And if the sound of a few Carrozelas carries across the hills a little longer than expected, one suspects the countryside will manage to endure it quite happily.

After all, Spring has a habit of announcing itself in lively ways.

And this year, it seems, it has chosen rabbits.

— C.T.

Letters to the Editor

Our readers are invited to share their thoughts, observations, and neighbourly remarks. Letters may be shortened for space, but never for spirit.

To the Editor,

Regarding the Present Volume of Festivities

Editor,

While I have long appreciated the Gazette’s support of wholesome community activities, I feel it my duty as a poultry keeper to report that the present level of Carrozela horn blowing and rooster conversation has produced conditions not entirely favorable to egg production.

My hens are ordinarily calm and industrious birds, yet this week they have been subjected to such an ongoing exchange of horns, crowing, and hopping enthusiasm that several of them appear to have abandoned their duties altogether in favor of staring out the coop door in what I can only describe as disbelief.

Should the celebrations continue at their current volume, I respectfully request that someone explain to the hens when they are expected to return to work.

Respectfully,
A Concerned Poultryman
Cedar Ridge County

To the Editor,

A Question of Sporting Fairness

To the Editor,

Word has reached certain members of the weasel community that an amusement titled “Bonk the Weasel” is presently operating at the festival grounds.

While we appreciate the general spirit of humor that accompanies most human and rabbit festivities, we must question the fairness of a game in which a weasel likeness is subjected to repeated carrot bombardment without any opportunity for rebuttal.

Should the festival organizers wish to create a more balanced sporting event, we would be pleased to suggest “Bonk the Rabbit”, which we believe would be equally entertaining and considerably more educational.

Yours with measured patience,
Slash
Upper Brush Creek

To the Editor,

A Matter of Street Observations

Editor Thimblewick,

With the opening of the new feline establishment in Butterfield — the one advertising goods “For Cats of Discernment” — I feel it only fair to inquire whether any consideration has been given to the smaller citizens of the town who must now pass that doorway on a regular basis.

I speak, of course, of the mice.

While we respect the right of cats to conduct honest business, one cannot help but notice that a shop devoted entirely to feline comfort may introduce certain complications for those of us who prefer our errands to be conducted without sudden pouncing.

Perhaps the proprietors might consider posting hours during which mice may pass the premises safely.

Concernedly,
A Watchful Resident of the Butterfield Boardwalk

To the Editor,

On the Subject of Excessive Cheerfulness

Madam Editor,

While the present festivities have brought a certain liveliness to Honey Hill Country, one wonders whether a modest degree of restraint might occasionally be considered.

Carrozelas before sunrise, rabbits dancing in the streets, carrot projectiles being launched at weasels, and what appears to be an alarming number of balloons have lately become commonplace.

It is not my wish to dampen the spirits of our neighbors, yet I feel compelled to observe that a town which spends too much time hopping about may eventually discover it has neglected more serious matters.

Still, if the celebrations must continue, I would ask only that the horns be blown at a slightly more civilized hour.

Yours in civic reflection,
Mrs. Silence DoBetter
Address Withheld

To the Editor,

A Personal Observation

Dear Gazette,

As a creature who prefers the cooler and quieter months of the year, I must confess that the sudden arrival of horns, dancing, and general merriment has come as something of a surprise.

I had only just settled comfortably beneath the last respectable patch of winter shade when the countryside began shouting “Hippity, hoppity — let’s go!”

While I do not object to others enjoying themselves, I would appreciate a small notice in advance should the entire region intend to celebrate quite this loudly again.

With respectful shivers,
Mr. Chilly B. Bottoms

The Gazette prints letters of interest to the community and does not inquire overly into the private identities of correspondents.– The Editor

EDITORIAL CARTOONS — by C. “Clary” Moss

Each week, Mr. Moss offers a pen-and-ink observation of life in Honey Hill Country. This week’s illustration accompanies the ongoing discussion regarding the Butterfield Schoolhouse roof.

Mr. Moss brings a practiced eye for the small ironies of civic life and a steady hand in their illustration. His drawings will appear regularly, offering visual commentary on matters of local interest — with due regard for both humor and fairness.

We trust our readers will receive his work in the spirit in which it is offered.

Crops & Markets Report

By Virgil Stone

With the ground beginning to soften in the lower fields and the sun showing a bit more strength each afternoon, farmers across Honey Hill Country are beginning the yearly work of preparing for Spring planting.

Several local merchants report that seed orders have picked up considerably during the past week, with carrot seed in particular moving briskly — a development some shopkeepers attribute to the unusual number of rabbits presently celebrating in the region.

Whether the two circumstances are directly related remains a matter of friendly debate.

Garden growers may also be interested to learn that the first shipments of onion starter sets have begun arriving in area stores. These small bulbs, intended for early planting, are traditionally among the first garden crops placed into the soil once conditions permit.

Farmers advise waiting until the ground can be worked easily without clinging heavily to the shovel, though many expect planting to begin across the southern slopes within the next week or two if the weather remains cooperative.

Meanwhile, a somewhat unusual development has appeared in the poultry trade.

As reported elsewhere in this week’s Gazette, the ongoing exchange of Carrozela horns and enthusiastic rooster crowing throughout the countryside appears to have unsettled laying hens across several farms. Local grocers confirm that egg deliveries have thinned noticeably during the past few days.

One poultry keeper, however — Mrs. Cordelia Pritchard of Quiet Nest Poultry Farm near Butterfield — appears to have maintained steady production despite the general commotion, reportedly through the use of carefully controlled lighting and the occasional fiddle tune.

Whether this approach will become standard practice among poultry farmers remains to be seen.

In other market matters, several merchants report continued concern regarding rising prices and limited supply of tin goods, including pails, lantern parts, and certain kitchen wares. The shortage has been building gradually for some time and may affect spring purchases if deliveries do not improve in the coming weeks.

Farmers planning repairs or equipment purchases are advised to obtain such items early where possible.

For the moment, however, most attention across the countryside appears to be divided between preparing the fields and observing the increasingly energetic festivities of March Madness Days.

If the weather holds and the horns eventually quiet themselves, Honey Hill Country may yet enjoy a very promising planting season.

— Virgil Stone

Hillside Chronicles

By Silas Thorne

The hills are beginning to show it now.

Not all at once, and not loudly the way the rabbits have been celebrating down in the towns these past few days. The hills prefer quieter announcements.

But if a person spends a little time walking the ridge roads or pausing beside the fence lines, the change becomes easy enough to see.

The trees are greening up.

That was the phrase Little Red Bear used when I met him along the lower trail earlier this week. He had stopped to look out across the valley and nodded toward the woods as though greeting an old friend.

“Things are greening up,” he said.

It struck me as a good way to describe what is happening.

At first the branches only show the faintest haze of color, a soft wash of green that almost disappears if the light shifts. Then, day by day, the shade deepens a little until the woods begin to look alive again.

Out on the hillsides, the dogwood trees have begun their quiet preparations as well. They are not blooming yet — that will come soon enough — but their buds are swelling and the branches carry that particular look that says winter’s long sleep is ending.

Even the ground itself seems to be waking.

A few early shoots are pushing through the leaf litter along the edges of the trails, and the birds have grown noticeably busier in the mornings.

Of course, if you listen carefully from the ridge you can also hear the other sounds traveling across Honey Hill Country just now.

Carrozelas sounding from the fairgrounds.

Roosters answering from distant fences.

Children laughing somewhere down the road.

The hills do not seem to mind the commotion very much. They have seen many Springs arrive before this one and will see many more after the horns have quieted again.

For the moment, though, the countryside appears content to welcome both kinds of celebration at once.

Down below, the rabbits are dancing.

Up here on the hillside, the woods are simply greening up.

— Silas

Farm & Home — Notes From the Farm & Field

By Myrtle Mae Meadowbloom

The first true sign that Spring is serious about arriving is not always the flowers.

Sometimes it is simply the sight of someone standing in the garden with a small sack of onion sets and a hopeful look.

Several neighbors have mentioned that the first shipments of those little starter bulbs have begun appearing in the stores this week, and I expect many a garden row will soon be marked out across Honey Hill Country.

Onions are one of the friendliest crops a gardener can grow. They ask very little fuss and reward even modest attention with a dependable harvest later in the season.

The secret, if there is one, is simply good soil and a bit of patience.

Choose a sunny spot in the garden where the earth has been loosened well. Onion sets prefer soil that crumbles easily in the hand rather than clinging in heavy clods. If the ground sticks stubbornly to the shovel, it is usually wiser to wait a few days longer.

Once the soil is ready, place the sets a few inches apart in tidy rows, pressing each bulb gently into the earth so that just the tip shows above the surface. They do not need to be buried deeply — onions seem happiest when they can feel a little sunshine as they begin their work.

Before long you will see the first green shoots standing upright in the row like a small company of soldiers announcing that the garden season has begun.

I like to plant onions early for another reason as well.

By mid-summer those same green tops can be gathered young and tender for the kitchen, where they find their way into soups, stews, and skillet suppers. Later in the year the bulbs themselves will keep well in a cool pantry and bring a welcome flavor to many winter meals.

A garden has a way of reminding us that the smallest beginnings often lead to the most satisfying rewards.

A Closing Thought

A row planted today may look like little more than hopeful dirt — but give it a bit of sunshine, and before long it will be supper.

— Myrtle Mae

Fleet on the Field

By Fleetwood “Fleet” Hopperson

March Madness Days continued at full pace this week with several new events added to the growing list of rabbit competitions, and the crowds around the game fields showed no signs of thinning.

The biggest new contest was the introduction of the Hop, Step & Jump, a three-part leap that quickly became one of the most exciting events of the games.

For readers unfamiliar with the format, the event works exactly as it sounds. The competitor begins with a powerful hop from the starting line, lands into a long running step, and then launches into a final full jump for distance. The total ground covered determines the winner.

The technique requires balance, timing, and a great deal of confidence in one’s landing.

This week’s clear standout was Thaddeus “Longstride” Thistlehop, who executed a smooth hop-step combination before finishing with a remarkable final bound that carried him well beyond the chalk markers and into the soft grass beyond the measuring line.

One competitor nearly matched the distance but stumbled slightly on the second step, losing just enough momentum to come up short.

The crowd responded with appreciative applause for both performances.

Elsewhere on the grounds, the ever-popular Bonk the Weasel competition continued drawing long lines of contestants eager to test their carrot-throwing accuracy. The top score of the afternoon went to a determined young rabbit who struck the target squarely three throws in a row, a feat that produced a cheer loud enough to startle several nearby chickens.

Another new contest, known as The Great Carrot Harvest, proved to be one of the most entertaining spectacles of the day.

In this event, a field of planted carrots is opened to competitors for a short timed round, with the goal being to harvest as many as possible before the whistle blows. Rabbits scattered across the rows in a flurry of digging, tossing, and enthusiastic gathering while judges hurried along the sidelines attempting to keep accurate counts.

At the end of the round, several impressive piles had formed beside the measuring table, though one rabbit’s collection appeared to include a turnip, two radishes, and something the officials later determined was not part of the contest field at all.

As always during March Madness Days, the games drew an enthusiastic crowd, and more events are scheduled in the coming days.

If the excitement continues at its current pace, I suspect the rabbits of Honey Hill Country may need a full week’s rest once the final whistle blows.

For now, however, the competition shows no sign of slowing.

And judging by the cheers heard across the grounds, that suits the spectators just fine.

— Fleet

Where Folks Gather in Good Company

By Felicity Grace Merriweather

There are many places to be found enjoying the merriment of March Madness Days this week, but one spot in particular has been drawing a most cheerful crowd.

Just beyond the main competition field, beside a row of brightly striped game tents, a small attraction has appeared that seems to bring equal delight to rabbits, children, and curious onlookers alike.

The sign above the booth reads, in bold lettering:

BONK THE WEASEL

The amusement is exactly what it sounds like — contestants stand several paces away from a painted wooden board depicting a rather surprised-looking weasel and attempt to strike the center of the target by tossing a carrot.

It is, as you might imagine, a game that rabbits approach with considerable enthusiasm.

Throughout the afternoon I watched eager participants step forward one by one, gripping their carrots with determination before launching them toward the board. Some landed squarely on the target to the cheers of the gathered crowd, while others flew bravely but inaccurately into the grass, producing even greater laughter.

A small mountain of carrots sits beside the throwing line, though it grows steadily smaller as the day goes on.

Children gather near the rope to watch the attempts, offering spirited advice to the throwers, while parents stand nearby laughing and applauding successful tosses.

One cannot help but notice that the painted weasel bears an expression of mild alarm, which seems entirely appropriate given the steady stream of carrots flying in its direction.

The booth attendant, wearing a bright striped vest and an impressively confident smile, assured me that the attraction has been busy from morning until evening since it first appeared earlier this week.

“Turns out rabbits like throwing carrots,” he explained with admirable understatement.

Whether one comes to participate or simply to watch the fun unfold, the little gathering beside the striped tents has become one of the happiest corners of the festival grounds.

And judging by the laughter echoing across the field, the weasel appears destined to endure many more enthusiastic bonks before March Madness Days finally come to a close.

— F.G.M.

From Around Our Way

By Lillian Harper

FROM AROUND OUR WAY

by Lillian Harper

Butterfield has gained a new establishment this week — and one that has already stirred a good deal of quiet curiosity along the boardwalk.

The shop is called Whiskers’ & Pounce, a tidy little storefront devoted entirely to the comfort and refinement of the feline population of Honey Hill Country. The proprietors are Miss Agatha Whiskerby and Miss Delilah Pounce, two dignified cats who appear to be conducting their enterprise with admirable seriousness.

The shop window presently displays a pleasing assortment of velvet cushions, feather teasers, grooming brushes, and tins of imported sardines said to be of very fine quality. Several jars and packets of catnip preparations may also be seen, arranged with the careful neatness expected of a respectable mercantile establishment.”

A number of Butterfield’s local cats have already been observed entering the shop with evident purpose. Dogs passing along the walk appear less certain about the arrangement and generally give the doorway a wide berth.

Miss Pounce may occasionally be seen demonstrating certain items from the shop’s inventory with considerable enthusiasm, while Miss Whiskerby manages the counter with a quiet air of careful supervision.

A small sign in the window reads simply:

“For Cats of Discernment.”

Whether the enterprise proves profitable remains to be seen, but it has already provided Butterfield with a new point of interest and a pleasant subject of conversation along the street.

— L.H.

The High Brush Chronicles

Being an Account of the Affairs of Hickory Pinenut of High Brush Farm

Reports from High Brush Farm this week suggest that the ongoing Carrozela enthusiasm sweeping Honey Hill Country has now produced its first agricultural casualty.

The matter concerns Hickory Pinenut, a farmer well known throughout the region for both his determination and his occasional misjudgments.

According to several reliable observers — including Mrs. Olivia Pinenut, who witnessed the affair from the kitchen window — Hickory had been cultivating what appeared to be a particularly impressive carrot in the south field. The vegetable had reached such promising proportions that neighbors had already begun suggesting it might prove a strong entry in next week’s Biggest Carrot Contest.

For several days Hickory was seen inspecting the carrot with great seriousness.

Unfortunately, this careful attention coincided with the rising popularity of the Carrozela horns currently being blown by rabbits across the countryside.

At some point during the week, Hickory appears to have looked at the carrot, considered the horns echoing across the hills, and reached a conclusion that seemed perfectly reasonable at the time.

Shortly afterward he was observed sitting on the porch rail with a pocketknife, carefully carving the vegetable into what he believed would make a fine Carrozela horn of his own.

Witnesses confirm that the instrument does, in fact, produce a very respectable sound.

The difficulty, as Mrs. Pinenut reportedly pointed out moments later, is that the carrot Hickory selected for the project appears to have been the same one intended for the upcoming contest.

The horn now rests on the porch beside the farm gate, where Hickory has demonstrated it several times for passing neighbors, each performance producing a note that carries quite clearly across the lower pasture.

As for the Biggest Carrot Contest, Hickory is said to be examining the remaining rows with renewed interest.

The carrots there are somewhat smaller.

But at present, at least, they remain uncarved.

Coming Attractions

Even as the present week’s festivities continue to keep Honey Hill Country lively from hill to holler, several upcoming events promise that the excitement is far from over.

The Soaring Squirrelaires

Rumor has it that the world-famed troupe of flying squirrel aerialists known as The Soaring Squirrelaires will soon be making an appearance in the region. Famous for their daring feats of balance and mid-air acrobatics performed on wire and branch alike, the troupe has recently completed a celebrated tour abroad and is expected to begin their cross-country performances this Spring. Details of their Honey Hill appearance are expected soon, and readers are advised to watch the Gazette closely.

Maple Syrup Boil & Pancake Supper

The Whispering Pines Meeting House will host its annual Maple Syrup Boil & Pancake Supper later this month, with all proceeds going toward repairs for the local schoolhouse roof following the heavy winter storms. Neighbors are invited to gather for an evening of fresh pancakes, warm maple syrup, and good company. Additional details will be announced as the date approaches.

March Madness Days — Closing Celebrations

Though the rabbit games continue at full pace, organizers remind readers that the March Madness Days Closing Ceremonies and Final Grand Parade are scheduled for March 28th.

The closing parade promises to bring together many of the most memorable sights of the festival — racers, musicians, decorated wagons, and a good many rabbits who by that time will likely have perfected their dancing steps.

If the enthusiasm shown so far is any indication, the final celebration may prove to be one of the most cheerful gatherings Honey Hill Country has seen in quite some time.

Readers are encouraged to mark their calendars accordingly.

Community Notices & Small Tidings

Items of interest from Honey Hill Country and nearby hollers. Notices are printed as received and offered in good faith.

SHERIFF’S NOTICE
Sheriff Albuquerque reminds festival visitors that while dancing rabbits are welcome in the streets during March Madness Days, wagons, horses, and mules still retain the right-of-way. Drivers are encouraged to proceed carefully where Carrozelas are being played.

VOLUNTEERS REQUESTED
Additional judges are being sought for the Great Carrot Harvest Contest due to unexpectedly enthusiastic participation. Applicants should be comfortable counting rapidly while surrounded by energetic rabbits.

BOARDWALK ADVISORY
Residents of the Butterfield boardwalk — particularly those of the smaller and whiskered variety — are reminded that the new establishment Whiskers’ & Pounce is now open for business. Travelers may wish to plan alternate routes.

PARADE ROUTE NOTICE
Families planning to watch the upcoming Youth of Tomorrow Bunny Parade are advised that portions of Main Street in Round Corners will be temporarily occupied by marching rabbits, decorated wagons, balloons, and assorted festival entertainers.

Spectators are asked to remain clear of the roadway unless invited to join the dancing.

FRIENDLY REMINDER
Farmers whose roosters have been enthusiastically responding to Carrozelas throughout the countryside are reminded that the birds may benefit from an occasional afternoon of quiet.

The hens have reportedly requested it.

A Small Reminder

If you have a notice to share — a gathering, a need, a thank-you, or a simple word worth passing along — you may leave it with the Editor by letter or in person. Space is limited, but goodwill is not.

Classifieds

Notices are printed as submitted. Replies may be made discreetly, or not at all.

LOST — ROOSTER VOICE
One rooster formerly belonging to a respectable farm on Upper Ridge appears to have misplaced his crow somewhere between Tuesday evening and Thursday morning after several days of enthusiastic participation in the Carrozela response program. If found, please return immediately. The hens would appreciate the rest.

FOR SALE — LIGHTLY USED CARROZELA HORN
Carrot construction. Produces a strong and cheerful tone that carries nearly to the next county. Slightly shorter than originally intended due to enthusiastic carving. Inquire at High Brush Farm. Ask for Hickory Pinenut.

WANTED — QUIET PLACE FOR NERVOUS HENS
Owner of several respectable laying hens seeks temporary lodging for poultry until current rabbit celebrations reduce in volume. Preference given to farms located at least one hill beyond the sound of horns.

MISSING — DIGNITY
Last seen somewhere near the Bonk the Weasel booth shortly after three enthusiastic carrot throws. Finder may keep it.

A Small Reminder

Classified notices may be left with the Editor in person or by letter. Brevity is appreciated. Honesty assumed.

Oddments & Oddities

By Homer T. Happenstance

Unusual items, strange reports, and matters set down exactly as they were told. Printed Without Apology.

he Gazette has received several reports this week that the ongoing exchange of Carrozela horns and answering rooster calls across Honey Hill Country may finally be taking a toll on at least one particularly enthusiastic participant.

A rooster belonging to a farm on the upper ridge was heard attempting his usual crow early Thursday morning only to produce what witnesses described as “a sort of scratchy whisper followed by an apologetic cough.”

The bird, having apparently spent several days answering every horn blast within hearing distance, now seems to have crowed himself temporarily hoarse.

His owner reports the rooster is presently resting his voice and drinking warm mash while the hens look on with what appears to be a mixture of sympathy and relief.

Meanwhile, a curious development occurred near the festival grounds when a local rabbit craftsman proudly unveiled a newly carved Carrozela horn made entirely from a carrot of exceptional size.

The instrument produced a most impressive sound, though the farmer who had been growing the carrot nearby observed with some concern that the vegetable in question had been intended for next week’s Biggest Carrot Contest.

Whether the enthusiastic horn maker realized this before or after the carving began remains unclear, though several bystanders suggested the resulting horn might now compete in an entirely different category.

The carrot itself was said to be nearly the size of a small rolling pin.

Security around the festival grounds continues to be maintained by Sheriff Albuquerque, the red fox lawman of Honey Hill Country, who has been keeping a watchful eye on the more energetic rabbit competitions.

The sheriff was overheard speaking with Little Red Bear near one of the children’s game tents earlier this week while observing a particularly enthusiastic round of Pin the Tail on the Fox.

“That ought to be a weasel getting stuck with pins,” the sheriff was heard to remark with quiet irritation. “Not me.”

Little Red Bear reportedly nodded thoughtfully and suggested that the matter might be discussed with the festival committee at a later time.

For the moment, however, the game appears to be continuing as planned.

If the current pace of festivities continues much longer, the Gazette expects Honey Hill Country may soon discover that not only roosters but several other citizens — feathered and otherwise — could be in need of a little rest.

Country Chuckles

By Cousin Orville P. Dithers

There are many ways to learn something new during March Madness Days.

One Butterfield farmer learned his lesson the hard way Tuesday afternoon.

Having heard the Carrozelas blowing across the countryside for several days, the man decided he might like to see the excitement for himself. Unfortunately, his team of mules had never heard such a thing before.

The farmer had just reached the road near the festival grounds when a rabbit standing beside the lane gave a particularly enthusiastic blast on one of the horns.

The mules stopped.

Both animals raised their ears.

Then they leapt sideways with such determination that the wagon followed them directly into a shallow ditch beside the road.

Witnesses say the farmer climbed out of the wagon seat, dusted off his hat, and stood quietly for a moment while another Carrozela sounded in the distance.

After considering the matter, he climbed back onto the wagon and turned the team toward home.

“Boys,” he said to the mules, “I believe we’ve seen about enough celebration for one day.”

The mules reportedly agreed.

— Cousin Orville

Heart of the Holler

By Abigail “Abby” Whitcombe

There are many victories to be found during March Madness Days.

Some are measured with ribbons and chalk lines. Some are counted in carrots, cheers, and the distance of a well-timed leap.

And once in a while, a victory appears quietly along the edge of the field.

Late yesterday afternoon, as the five-mile race wound toward its final stretch, most of the leading runners had already crossed the finish line and the crowd had begun to thin a little. A few spectators remained along the roadside, waiting to see the last of the competitors come through.

One small farm rabbit was still making his way down the lane.

His ears drooped a bit with every step, and it was clear he had spent nearly everything he had getting that far. The finish banner could be seen ahead in the distance, but the road still looked very long.

Standing near the fence was a young boy who had been watching the race with great seriousness. When he saw the tired rabbit coming along, he stepped quietly through the gate and walked out onto the lane beside him.

For a moment the rabbit kept moving without noticing.

Then the boy began walking alongside him.

He did not run, and he did not pull ahead. He simply matched the rabbit’s slow pace, offering a word of encouragement now and then as they continued down the road together.

A few spectators along the fence began clapping softly as the pair came into view of the finish line.

When the rabbit finally crossed beneath the banner, the applause grew louder. The boy stepped aside and let the runner take the last few steps on his own, which seemed only proper.

No ribbon was awarded for that particular finish.

But more than a few people watching agreed that they had just seen one of the finest moments of the games.

It is easy to admire the fastest racers and the highest jumpers.

Yet the heart of a community is often revealed in the quieter moments — when someone chooses to walk beside another simply to help them reach the end of the road.

And yesterday afternoon, along a dusty stretch of lane in Honey Hill Country, that is exactly what happened.

— Abby W.

And as the week draws to a close, a quiet thought from the porch . . . .

Front Porch Reflections

The hills are beginning to change again.

Along the fences and lane edges, the first daffodils have pushed their yellow faces up through the soil, and the trees that only a week ago stood bare and grey are now showing the faintest wash of green along their branches. Morning birds have begun arriving a little earlier each day, as if eager to see what Spring has planned next.

It is the sort of week when a person notices these things.

Of course, one also notices the horns.

For several days now the Carrozelas have been sounding across Honey Hill Country, answered by roosters on distant fences and followed by the laughter of children wherever the rabbits have gathered to celebrate their games. The sounds travel from field to field and hill to hill until even the quietest holler has heard a little of the excitement.

Now and then someone will remark that it is all rather noisy.

And it is.

But noise of this particular kind is usually a sign of something good happening nearby.

Children laughing rarely whisper. Rabbits dancing in the street seldom do so quietly. Even the roosters seem to feel they have something to contribute to the occasion.

Earlier this week a tired runner was helped across a finish line by a small boy who simply chose to walk beside him. No announcement was made about it, and no ribbon was awarded. Yet it was the moment many people remembered most clearly when the day was done.

Perhaps that is the secret of these lively days.

Spring has a way of inviting people to step outside, notice their neighbors, and take part in whatever happiness happens to be passing by. It asks very little — only that we not stand too far off to the side while others are enjoying themselves.

The horns will quiet soon enough. The rabbits will return to their burrows, the fields will fill with work again, and the countryside will settle back into its familiar rhythms.

But for a little while longer, Honey Hill Country is full of laughter, crowing roosters, dancing rabbits, and children running along the lanes.

And if you listen closely from the porch in the evening light, it all sounds very much like Spring.

We will see you again next Saturday.

— Jim (and Red!)

The Hearth & Holler Gazette is a work of fiction, created for entertainment and storytelling purposes. The people, places, events, and notices appearing within its pages are imagined, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

Pen-and-ink illustrations created with the assistance of AI and lovingly styled for Little Red Bear Land.