(1884) Queer Stories For Boys And Girls

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Queer

Stories

For Boys and Girls

BY

EDWARD EGGLESTON ALTHOB OF "the HOOSIER SCHOOLMASTER," "THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY,"

NEW YORK

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1884

ETC.

Copyright,

1884,

by

EDWARD EGULESTON

J'

,/

TROWS PRINTINQ AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY, YORK.

hW

PREFACE. ^T^HE

stories here reprinted include nearly all of those

which titles

I

have written

them to rank as "

for children in a vein that en-

Queer Stories,"

that

is,

stories

not entirely realistic in their setting but appealing to the fancy, which

and

is

" girls.

or nine years

been printed

so

marked

Bobby and ago in SL in

a trait of the

the Key-hole

The

earlier for juvenile periodicals of

others were written

wide repute

now gone

young people's magazines,

the

way

in their

time

of almost

all

to the land of forgetfulness.

with pleasure the fact that these

little

enjoyed a considerable popularity when they

first

Although tales

appeared eight

Nichulas, and has never before

book form.

periodicals that have

minds of boys

"

appeared, " The

I

I

recall

might just as well

Unlucky

Stories."

as

not have called them

In two or three forms

some of

the stories that form this collection have appeared in book

PREFACE.

iv

covers in years past, but always to meet with disaster that

was no

fault of theirs.

Two

little

books that contained a

were burned up part of the stories herein reprinted cuts and

all

in

the Chicago

fire

with some of these stories in lisher in Boston,

plates in

Another book,

of 187 1. it,

was issued by a pub-

who almost immediately failed,

pawn.

These

fell

plates,

into the

leaving the

hands of a man who

issued a surreptitious edition, and then into the possession

of another, to

whom

at length I

was forced

sum

for the

tales

from the hands of freebooters.

first fair

plates, in order to extricate

and square issue

have had.

For

this

in

This

book form

to

pay a round

my

unfortunate

is

therefore the

that these stories

they have been revised by the

author, and printed from plates wholly

new by

the liber-

ality of the present publisher.

E. E. Owls' Nest, Lake George,

1884.

CONTENTS QUEER STORIES.

page

Bobby and the Key-hole, a Hoosier Fairy Tale,

'^

.

3

Mr. Blake's Walking-stick,

23

The Chairs

Council,

60

Tea-kettle Said,

67

What the

in

Crooked Jack, 'The Funny Little Old Woman,

Widow

Wiggins'

Wonderful Cat,

72

77 .

.

.

.

83

CHICKEN LITTLE STORIES. Simon and the Garuly,

The

91 loi

Joblilies,

^The Pickaninny, The Great Panjandrum Himself,

m .

.

.

.120

STORIES TOLD ON A CELLAR-DOOR.

The Story of a Flutter-wheel, The Wood-chopper's Children, The Bound

Boy,

137 143 .

149

CONTENTS.

vi

PAGB

The Profligate

Prince,

155

The Young Soap-boiler

^60

The Shoemaker's Secret,

168

MODERN

FABLES.

Flat Tail the Beaver, *

177

The Mocking-bird's Singing-school, The Bobolink and the Owl, .

181

.'

.

.

.

.

.

.

.185

Queer

Stories.

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE. A

YOU

Hoosier Fairy Tale.

think that folks in fine clothes are the only folks

that ever see fairies,

and that poor

folks can't afford

" Green days of the real old-fashioned Jacket and White Owl's Feather" fairies, it was the poor boy carrying fagots to the cabin of his widowed mother

But

them.

in the

who saw wonders of and

was the poor

it

sorts

all

girl

wrought by the

who had

little

people

a fairy godmother.

;

It

must be confessed that the mystery-working, dewdropwand-waving, pumpkin-metamorphosing little have been spoiled of late years by being admitted

dancing, rascals

into fine houses. their praises

Having

sung by

not the poor

girl in

of fagots now, but

by

artists,

poets, their adventures told in gilt-

edge books, and, above of St. Nicholas, has

their pictures painted

all,

getting into the delicious leaves

made them "stuck

the cinders, nor the girls

up," so that

it is

boy with a bundle

who wear button

boots and

tie-

and boys with fancy waists and striped stockings that are befriended by fairies, whom they do not

back

need.

skirts,

QUEER STORIES. But away

off

from the

unflattered fairies

a race of

cities there still lives

who

are not snobbish, and

who

love

and ragged jackets. These spirits are not very handsome, and so the artists do not draw their pictures, and they do not get into gilt-edge little

and boys

girls

Christmas books. will

in pinafores

Dear, ugly, good

not be spoiled by

my

telling

fairies

I

hope they you something about !

them. Little

Bobby Towpate saw some

about Bobby, and the

Bobby was

fairies

them

of

he saw, that

I

;

and

it's

want to speak.

the thirteenth child in a rather large family

He

lived

in a log

cabin on the banks of a stream, the right

name

of which

there Avere

three younger than he.

" Indian Kentucky Creek." I suppose it was named " " Indian Kentucky because it is not in Kentucky, but in Indiana and as for Indians, they have been gone many a

is

;

The people always call it "The Injun Kaintuck." day. They tuck up the name to make it shorter. Bobby was only four years and three-quarters old, but he had been

pantaloons for three years and a half, for the Indian Kaintuck put their little boys

in

the people in

before. fellows

And

such breeches

!

walk

perhaps a httle The little white-headed

into breeches as soon as they can

look like dwarf grandfathers, thirteen hundred They go toddling about like old men who

years of age.

have grown ever knew.

little

again, and forgotten everything they

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE.

5

But Bobby Towpate was not ugly. Under his white hair, which "looked every way for Sunday," were blue eyes and ruddy cheeks, and a mouth as pretty as it was solemn.

The comical

little

fellow

wore an unbleached

cotton shirt, and tattered pantaloons, with

home-made

" gallowses." suspenders or

been

old, I

The pantaloons had always were made out of a pair of his they " daddy's," as he would have told you and

think, for

father's

his

nobody

ever

knew

his father to

have a new

pair, so

they

must have been old from the beginning. For in the Indian Kaintuck country nothing ever seems to be new. Bobby

Towpate himself was born looking about a thousand years As for hat, old, and had aged some centuries already. daddy's old hats when he wore any, would have answered well for an umbrella if it had

he wore one of

and

it

his

not been ragged.

Bobby's play-ground was anywhere along the creek in the woods. There were so many children that there was nobody to look after him so he just kept a careful eye ;

on

himself,

and that made

it all

right.

As he was

not a

very energetic child, there was no danger of his running into mischief.

Indeed, he never

given to sitting

down on

crazy singing of the loons

ment

birds

consists in trying to see

hideous noise.

ran

at

all.

He was

the ground and listening to the

whose

favorite

amuse-

which can make the most

Then, too, he would watch the stake-

drivers flying along the creek, with their long, ugly necks

QUEER STORIES. and

Sticking out in front of them,

their long, ugly legs

sticksticking out behind them, and their long, ugly wings in"- out on each side of them. They never seemed to

have any bodies at all. People call them stake-drivers because their musical voices sound like the driving of a " Ke- whack ke- whack " also call them stake

They

!

!

:

"

Fly-up-the-creeks," and plenty of ugly names besides. It was one sleepy summer afternoon that Bobby sat

on the root of a beech-tree, watching a stake-driver

who

if looking for his dinner of tadpoles, the should what homely bird do but walk right out

stood in the water as

when

on the land and up to Bobby. Bobby then saw that it was not a stake-driver, but a long-legged, long-necked,

And short-bodied gentleman, in a black bob-tail coat. a stake-driver's yet his long, straight nose did look like beak, to be sure.

who

live

in

He was one

the dark

of the stake-driver

fairies,

and lonesome places along the

creeks in the Hoosier country.

" Ke-whack that you hear,

!

They make "

ke-whack

!

It

the

noise

may be

the

driving of stakes for the protection of the nests of their friends the cat-fish.

"

Good-morning, Bobby, ke-whack

slim gentleman, nodding his after his

among "

words because that

head. is

" !

He

said the long, said

ke-whack

the polite thing to do

the stake-driver fairies.

My name

swered Bobby.

Bobby Ke-whack, nur nothin'," anThe people on Indian Kaintuck say "nor

haint

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE. nothinV' without meaning anything by

it.

"

My

name

haint on'y jeth Bob, an' nothin' elth."

But the slender Mr. Fly-up-the-creek only nodded and ke-whack two or three times, by way of clearing his

said

throat.

"

like

Maybe you'd

to

see

the folks underground,

" If ke-whack," he added presently. you would, I can It's right it. to unlock show you the door and how If you get the door under the next cliff, ke-whack !

open, you

may go

in

and

the Invisible People, and

" Ke-whack

find the all

Sleepy-headed People,

the rest, ke-whack !"

"

said Bob, mimicking, and grinning till But the gentleof white milk-teeth. row he showed man stake-driver must have been offended, for he walked !

his

away

into the water

saying,

and disappeared among the willows,

"Ke-whack! ke-whack!"

in

an indignant

way

at every step.

once the stake-driver fairy had gone, Bob was He was lonesome. He had always been lonetroubled.

When

some, because the family was so large. There is never any company for a body where there are so many. Now Bob wished that " Ole Ke-whack," as he called him, had He would not walked off into the willows in such a huff.

who

under the ground, you know. After a while, he thought he would go and look for the door under the cliff. Bobby called it " clift," after the manner

like to see

lived

of the people on the Indian Kaintuck.

QUEER STORIES.

8

Once under around looked

was a

for

the

like a

door

he was a long time searching he found a something that He looked to see if there the rock.

cliff,

At

a door. in

last

latch-string, for the houses in the Indian

But he could not

are opened with latch-strings.

Then he

Kaintuck find one.

himself (for Bobby, being a lonesome

said to

boy, talked to himself a great deal) words like these " Ole Ke- whack thed he knowed wharabout the key mout be. The time I went down to Madison, to market :

mammy, I theed a feller dretht up to kill come along and open hith door with a iron thing. That mout be a

with

key.

Wonder

acrost the hole

He had no

ef

I

can't find

what

it

goeth

trouble in "

it

mythelf

I

come

the key

itself,

There,

!

into."

coming acrost

"

He took it up, lying on the ground. " looked at it curiously, and said Thith thing muth be a he So tried to key." put it into the key-hole, but an unexpected difficulty met him. Every time he tried to put for

he found

it

:

which before was in easy reach, ran up so far that he could not get to it. He picked up some loose stones and piled them up against the door, in the key, the key-hole,

and stood on them on shot up

out of his

hausted, and sat

his tiptoes, but

At

reach.

down on

was back

few inches of his head.

the key-hole

he got down ex-

the pile of stones he had made,

with his back to the door. that the key-hole

last

still

in

He

On

looking round, he saw

its

old place, and within a

turned round suddenly and

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE.

made

a dive at

it,

with the key held in both hands, but

the key-hole shot up like a rocket, until

it

was

just out of

his reach.

After trying to trap this key-hole in every way he could, he sat down on a stone and looked at it a minute, and then said very slowly " Well, I never That beats :

me

all

holler

What

!

!

muth

a funny thing a key-hole

be."

At

he noticed another key-hole in the rock, not far away, and concluded to try the key in that. The key went in without trouble, and Bob turned it round several last

times, until

the

iron

key had turned to brass

in

his

hands.

"The blamed thing ith Towpate. You must excuse have talked to be

in the

same way

turnin' yaller

" !

cried

little

You might had been so you lucky as

Bob's language. if

born on the Indian Kaintuck.

Seeing that he could not open anything by turning the key round in this key-hole, since there was no door here, he thought he

have with the

would now try what luck he might "

"

opening the door. Tlie key-hole might admit a brass key. But what was his amazement to find on trying, that the key-hole which had yaller

key

in

run upward from an iron key,

bottom of the door. stooped down

He

now

pulled

ran

down toward

away

the

the

stones and

head was near the ground, but the key-hole disappeared off the bottom of the door. When till

his

QUEER STORIES.

10

he gave up the chase

returned

it

as

before.

Avorked himself into a great heat trying to catch

was of no

down

sat

again he said slowly

:

That beats me

!

hole ith

but

it

use.

Then he

days

Bobby it,

But

!

again and stared at the door, and " Well, I never, in all my born'd holler

all

that feller in

town

!

What

a thing a key-

didn't have no trouble."

After thinking a while he looked at the key, and came to the conclusion that, as the key-hole

iron key,

went up from an if he had one

and down from a brass one, that

" Thith

half-way between, he should have no trouble.

key

ith

turn

it

too

rtze'//^/

yaller,"

he

it

into the key-hole

the opposite direction to the it

would not turn

stood off looking at

key began turning as

it

said.

I'll

put

it

back and

half-way back, and then we'll thee."

So he stuck But

"

turned

it

tried to turn

way he had turned

to the left at

it

and

all.

So he

it

in

it

before.

let

go and

a while, when, to his surprise, the

to the right of

grew whiter,

until

its it

own

accord.

And

was a key of pure

silver.

"

Purty good for you, ole hoss," said Bob, as he " We'll thee if pulled out the bright silver key. you're better'n the black one and the one." any yaller

But neither would the the key-hole was as

and the iron one.

down, but

first

much

silver

one open the door

afraid of

Only now

it

it

as of the brass

neither

;

for

one

went up nor

toward one side of the door and then

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE, toward the other, according

to the

way

in

II

which the key

approached it. Bobby, after a while, went at it straight from the front, whereupon the key-hole divided into two the one half running off the door to the right, the parts other to the left. " Well, that'th ahead of

my

time," said Bob.

But he

this time so much amused by the changes in the and the antics of the nimble key-hole, that he did not key He waited care much whether the door opened or not. until he had seen the truant key-hole take its place again,

Avas

by

and then he took the

As soon

hole. his

hand, took

as he

key back to the other keykey leaped out of the key-hole, and began to

approached

place in

its

When

turn swiftly round.

come

silver

it

it

the

stopped the

silver

had be-

said Bob.

And

he took

gold.

" Yaller again,

by hokey,"

the gold key and went back, wondering what the key-

But there was now no key-hole.

hole would do now.

had disappeared

Bob stood

It

entirely.

off

and looked

at

the place where

it

had

jaw drop a little in surprise and disappoint" and came out slowly with this Well, I never, in ment,

been,

let his

:

all

my

born'd days

" !

He

thought best now to take the key back and have it changed once more. But the other key-hole was gone too. Not knowing what to do, he returned to the door

and put the key up where the nimble key-hole had been,

QUEER STORIES.

12

whereupon

it

reappeared, the gold key inserted its own accord.

itself,

.and

the door opened of

Bob

eagerly tried to enter, but there stood

somebody

in the door, blocking the passage.

"Hello!"

How

"You

Bob.

said

did you get in

By

?

Ole Ke-whack

here,

the back door,

I

?

'low."

" Put

whack

!

my yellow waistcoat back where you got it, ke" " It's cold in said the stake-driver, shivering.

here, and how

shall

I

to the party without

go

it,

ke-

"

whack

.

!

"Your

wescut

yaller

"

"I haint got no

said Bob.

?

wescut, ke-whack or no ke-whack."

"

"

You must

said the fly-up-theput that away " Kecreek, pecking his long nose at the gold key.

whack

!

ke-whack

!

"Oh!"

said

Then he tossed

" !

"why

Towpate,

the

you say so?" the ground, where

didn't

gold key down on

ho had found the iron one, but the key stood straight up,

waving

drawling " Pick

"

:

my

and

itself to

it

Well,

up

!

I

fro,

while

never

Pick

it

Bobby came out with

up

!

Ke-whack

!

You've picched

yellow waistcoat into the dirt, ke-whack, ke-whack

" never

Oh " !

!

You

call

that

And Bobby

his

" !

a

wescut,

do you.

Well,

" !

I

picked up the key, and since he

could think of no place else to put

it, he put it into the which it unwound itself to the left till it key-hole, upon was silver. Bobby, seeing that the key had ceased to

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE. move, pulled

it

1

3

out and turned toward the open door to

see the stake-driver wearing a yellow vest, which he was " Ke-whack, ke-whack," as examining with care, saying,

he did

"

so.

I

knew you'd

get spots on

it,

ke-whack,

throwing it on the ground that way." Poor Bobby was too much mystified by this confusion between the gold key and the yellow vest, or " wescut," as they call

"

it

on the Indian Kaintuck, to say anything.

Now, my white

put that back, ke-whack," " I can't said the fly-up-the-creek fairy. go to the party in my shirt sleeves, ke-whack." " I haint got your coat, Ole Daddy Longlegs," said " 'less Bobby, you mean this key."

On again

this suspicion

unwound

coat,

he put the key back, upon which it As the left and became brass.

itself to

soon as Bobby had pulled out the brass key and turned round, he saw that the fairy was clad in a white coat, which, with his stunning yellow vest,

made him

cut quite

a figure.

"

Now, my yellow cap,"

a cheerful

said the stake-driver, adding

ke-whack or two, and Bobby guessed that he

was to put the brass key in the key-hole, whereupon it was immediately turned round by some unseen power it became iron, and then thrown out on the ground Sure where Bobby Towpate had found it at first. enough, the fairy now wore a yellow cap, and, quick as thought, he stepped out to where the key was lying, and

until

QUEER STORIES.

14

it changed to he which quickly drew on. a pair of three-toed boots, Then he turned and bowed to Bobby, and said

struck

twice with his nose, whereupon

it

:

" Ke-whack

brushed

my

!

You've ironed

cap and blacked

my

whack, I'm going to the party.

want

my

coat and vest, and

Good-day, ke-

boots.

You

can go

in if

you

to."

Bobby stood flew away along ke whack never, in

" !

all

some

time, looking after

the creek, crying

"

him

as

he

ke-whack, ke-whack,

And Bobby said once again: "Well, I " my born'd days," and then added, Haint

Daddy Longlcgs wescut,

for

peart

?

Thinks he's some

in his yaller

'low."

I

When

once the fly-up-the-creek had gone out of sight and out of hearing, Bobby started on his search for the

He

Sleepy-headed People.

travelled

along a sort of

underground gallery or cave, until he came to a round Here he found people who looked like

basin-like place.

boys and girls, rather than men and women. They were lolling round in a ring, while one of the number read drowsily from a big book which was lying on a fat little

bowlder to

in

those

who

sat facing

gave a long

yawn and

Bobby caught fell

another they looked at little

All seemed

the middle of this Sleepy-hollow.

But as soon as

be looking and listening intently.

sight of him, they

into a

deep him, and one

round, lazy fellows gaped,

until

sleep. after it

One

after

another the

seemed

their

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE. heads would

split

snoring like

He

ment.

"

never

gone

!

ofif

little

open, then pigs.

1

5

over and slept soundly, stood still with astonish-

fell

Bobby

did not even find breath to say, "Well,

I

For presently every one of the listeners had The reader, whose back was toward to sleep.

He was

the new-comer, did not see him.

the only one

awake, and Bobby looked to see him drop over at

left

But the

any moment.

little fat

man

read right along in a

drawling, sleepy mumble, something nians

until

Bob

cried

everybody'th gone

"Hello, Ole Puddin'-bag,

out:

to thleep

about the Athe-

;

you'd jeth as well hole up

yer readin' a while."

The

little

man

rolled his eyes

"Oh, my!

said:

I'm gone off

round upon Bob, and again!" And then he

stretched his fat cheeks in an awful yawn.

" ef

Hey

!

You'll never get that

mouth

you don't be mighty keerful," cried

fellow

was

fast

asleep before

of your'n shet,

Bob

;

but the

he could get the words

out.

" Well now, that'th a purty lookin' crowd, haint said Bob, looking round upon the sleepers. Just at that

moment they began

to

wake up, one

" it ?

after

another, but as soon as they saw Bob, they sighed and " He's so " He's so said curious," or, interesting," or :

something of the

sort,

and

fell

away

into a

deep slumber

Bob undertook to wake some of them up by hallooing, but the more noise he made, the more

attain.

At

last

QUEER

l6

STORIES.

Then he gave over shaking them slept. and shouting at them, and sat down. As soon as he was quiet they began to wake up again. soundly they

"

" Hello

them open

cried Bob,

!

or three of

their eyes.

" If you'd only keep

them, and then they

By keeping

all

quite

Then they

up.

when he saw two

all

still till I

get awake," said one of

went to sleep again. he got them pretty well waked

still

fell

to

counting their toes, to keep

from becoming too much interested

in

Bobby,

for just so

sure as they get interested or excited, the Sleepy-headed fall

People

began

to

Presently the

asleep.

mumble

reader awoke,

a lot of stuff out of the big

and

book, about

Epaminondas, and Sesostris, and Cyaxeres, and Clearchus, and the rest, and they all grew a little more wake-

When

ful.

gan

to

he came to an account of a battle,

be interested a

yawned and

little in

cried out, "

Read

the story, but

Bobby

all

be-

the others

across, read across

" !

and

the reader straightway read clear across the page, mixing the two columns into hopeless nonsense, so as to destroy the interest.

"

I

know

growing

Then they

all

waked up

again.

a better thtory than that air

tired of the long

"

said

!

mumbling reading

Bobby,

of the dull

book. " Do

you ? Tell it," said the reader. So Bobby began to tell them some of

upon which they

all

grew interested and

his adventures,

fell

asleep.

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE, " Don't

any more when he awoke. tell

1

7

like that," said the little reader,

" What'th the matter weth it?

Heap

better thtory

than that big book that you're a mumblin' over, Mr, Puddin'."

"

We

reader.

don't like interesting stories," said the sleepy

"

us to sleep.

They put

This

is

the best book

Ancient History, and it hasn't got but a few interesting spots in the whole of it. Those we keep sewed up, so that we can't read them. The rest is all so nice and dull, that it keeps us awake all in the world.

It's

Rollin's

day."

Bobby

stared, but said nothing.

"Can you

sing ?" said

one of the plump

little

old

women, "

Yeth,

I

can sing

" Let's have

keeps

I

it.

Dandy

Jim."

do love singing

;

it

soothes

me and

me awake."

Thus

entreated,

little

Bobby stood up and sang one

verse of a negro song he had heard, which ran "

:

When de preacher took his tex' He look so berry much perplex' Fur nothin' come acrost his mine But Dandy Jim from Caroline " !

Bobby

shut his eyes tight, and threw his head back

and sang through

his nose, as

he had seen big folks do.

QUEER STORIES.

l8

He

these impressive put the whole of his httle soul into and finished he had When words. opened his eyes to

discover what effect his vocal exertions had produced, his audience

"

Well,

"The

I

was of course never

tune's

" !

said

fast asleep.

Bob. lively," said

awful

too

the

little

old

"

You ought to be ashamed woman, when she woke up. of yourself Now, hear me sing." And she began, in a slow, solemn movement, the most drawling tune you ever heard, and they all joined in the same fashion :

" Poor old Pidy,

She died

last

Poor old

creetur,

The

to the

"

finish the line, while

speak, Bobby burst out with " La that'th the toon !

"

wouldn't, hey

"

No,

I

wouldn't,

Whereupon went

the

fast asleep,

?

little

little

they were

of the turkey-buzzards, so to

tails

wouldn't thing that." " You

:

turkey-buzzards

But before they could yet hanging

Friday

:

the

said the

old

cow died

woman,

on.

I

getting angry.

dumplin'."

woman

got so furious that she

and the reader, growing interested and tumbled off his chair on his head, but

falling into a doze,

as his

head was quite

soft

and puttyish,

particular harm, except that the

soundly than ever.

fall

it

did

made him

him no

sleep

more

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE.

I9

When they had waked up again, Bobby thought to

move

on, but as soon as he

offered to

it

time

move, the Sleepy-

heads surrounded him and began to sing a drawHng song, He soon found that they which made Bobby sleepy.

meant

to

make him one

all to his taste.

held him

He

of themselves,

and

was not

this

at

struggled to get away, but something What should he do ?

about the feet.

Suddenly a bright thought came to his relief The Sleepy-heads were now all standing in a ring around him.

He began

"My

to tell a story at the top of his voice

gran'pappy, he

Injun he chopped

my

tomahawk, and But at this point

fit

:

weth a red Injun.

gran'pappy's finger

off"

An' the weth

his

" all

the

little

people got intensely ex-

Bobby's gran'pappy's fight, and so, of course, fell asleep and fell forward into a pile on top of Bobby, who had an awful time getting out from under the heap. cited over

wake up and to out screamed feet, Bobby gran'pappy, he up weth his hatchet and he

Just as he emerged, the people began to lay hold of his

"And my split the

but

:

nasty ole red Injun's head open

"

They were all fast asleep again. Bobby now ran off" toward the door, not further

caring to go he knew there though reached the door at last,

at present,

any underground were other wonders beyond. He but it was closed. There was no key-hole even. After looking around a long time he found the Fly-

QUEER STORIES.

20

a up-thc-creek fairy, not far from the door, sitting by him. over old owl with a large, against sitting "

Give

me

the key to the door, Ole

Ke-whack

fire,

"

said

!

Bobby. "

Oh, no

Do you

I

!

think

I

will

not give you

would give you

my

my

clothes,

ke-whack

party clothes

If

?

Now

it.

I

can't give

you

my

you

You

hadn't sung so loud, the door wouldn't have shut. scared

!

and so

fine clothes,

"

you'll have to stay here, ke-whack! Poor Bobby sat down by the fire, not knowing what " I don't want to he to do. stay here, Ke-whack "'

!

whimpered. " Tell him about the Sleepy-headed People," said the

owl to Bobby, solemnly. " Shut up, old man, or

I'll

bite

your head

off!

"

said

the Fly-up-the creek to the owl.

"

Do

say," said the owl.

as I

you'll turn to

an owl or a bat.

heads are his cousins

Be

he doesn't

" If you stay here,

The Sleepy-

quick. like

to hear

about

them." " " Don't mind a word the old man says, ke-whack " Give me the key, then," said Bobby. !

"

Do

as

I

say," said the owl.

The Fly-up-the-creek uttered an angry " ke-whack and

tried to bite off the owl's head, but the

hopped out of his way. his adventures

among

Bobby began

"old

"

man"

to tell the story of

the Sleepy-heads, and the stake-

BOBBY AND THE KEY-HOLE. driver kept crying,

words

;

amazed "

or

"

Ke-whack ke-whack shrill

to

!

!

but as Bobby's

drown

his

voice rose higher the stake-

Bobby was

became weaker and weaker.

driver's voice

so

"

21

that he stopped.

Go on

" !

" or you'll never get out, groaned the owl,

either."

I

So Bobby kept up his talk lying senseless on the floor.

until the stake-driver

was

" Put the key in the lock, quick," cried the owL " " Where is the key ? " His fine clothes. Take them off, Cap first quick !

Bobby began with and vest and boots. " Put them in the

" !

the cap, then stripped off the coat "

keyhole, quick

!

said the owl. for

the stake-driver was reviving.

Where "There *

!

the key-hole

is

" ?

there !" cried the owl, pointing to the

fire.

time the Fly-up-the-creek had already begun to reach out for his clothes, which Bobby hastily threw into

By

the

this

fire.

swung

The

fire

went

the

great

door near by

open, and the big-eyed owl, followed by Bobby,

walked out, saying, " I'm

Somehow,

in

owl, but an old

down

out,

free at last."

the daylight, he was not any longer an

man

in

gray clothes,

who hobbled

off

the road.

And Bobby

looked

after

him

driver, shorn of his fine clothes,

until

he saw the stake-

sweep over

his

head and

22

QUEER STORIES.

go flying up the creek again. his father's cabin, saying

"Well,

I

ever did see

And

I

never in all

think

it

!

Then he turned toward

:

Ef that haint the beatinest thing

my born'd days." was.

I

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK. L THE WALKING-STICK WALKS.

OOME *^

men

carry them,

I

carried his cane for.

weight.

Some men make

carry canes.

never could I

am

sure

For he was neither

He was

a

tall,

straight

tell

just

what Mr. Blake

did not often feel his

it

nor

old,

the canes

rich,

nor lazy. as if he loved

man, who walked

to walk, with a cheerful tread that

was good to see. I am It was not one of

sure he didn't carry the cane for show.

those

little

sickly yellow things, that

some men nurse

as

might a lapdog. It was a great black ebony, with a box-wood head, and I think

tenderly as they stick of solid

Mr. Blake carried that of an old

it

for

And

company.

it

had a face,

like

man, carved on one side of the box-wood

Mr. Blake kept it ringing in a hearty way upon pavement as he walked, and the boys would look up

head. the

from their marbles when they heard comes Mr. Blake, the minister " !

it,

and say: "There

And

I

think that

nearly every invalid and poor person in Thornton

knew

the cheerful voice of the minister's stout ebony stick. It

was a

clear, crisp,

sunshiny morning

in

December.

QUEER STORIES.

24

The

leaves were

all

gone, and the long lines

houses that were hid away

of

white frame

the thick trees during the

in

summer, showed themselves standing in straight rows now that the trees were bare. And Purser, Pond & Co.'s great factory on the brook in the valley below was plainly to

be seen, with

shimmering

long rows of windows shining and

its

the brilliant sun, and

in

its

brick

chimney

reached up like the Tower of Babel, and poured out a steady stream of dense, black smoke.

was

just such a shining winter

Mr. Blake morning. and his walking-stick were just starting out for a walk to" It's a fine gether. morning," thought the minister, as he shut the parsonage gate. And when he struck the It

cane sharply on the stones " " It's a fine

morning So they were able

to Scripture, because they

Just as he

party of

boys

:

to walk together, according

were agreed.

came round the corner the minister found

a

They had already heard was a fine morning before Mr.

waiting for him.

the cane remarking that

Blake came "

answered him cheerily

The cane always agreed with

!

Mr. Blake.

it

it

in sight.

Mr. Blake," said the three boys. Good-morning, my boys I'm glad to see you," said the minister, and he clapped " Old Ebony" down on the " I am sidewalk, and it said glad to see you." " *' Mr. Blake said Fred White, scratching his brown

Good-morning

!

"

;

!

head and looking

a little puzzled.

" Mr. Blake,

if it ain't

MR. BLAKE

any harm a boy,

if you mean

I

S

WALKING-STICK.

don't mind, "

you know,

25

telling a fellow,

Just here he stopped talking

;

for

though he kept on scratching vigorously, no more words would come and comical Sammy Bantam, who stood ;

"Keep

alongside, whispered,

cow

will give

down

Fred

;

the old

"

after a while

Then Fred laughed, and

!

the other boys, and the min-

laughed, and the cane could do nothing but stamp

ister its

a-scratching,

amusement.

foot in

" what Well, Fred," said the minister,

"

But Fred couldn't speak now Sammy had to do the talking himself. out."

who had stopped

boy,

his age,

oft"

short

Speak and

is it ?

for laughing,

He was

a

stumpy

and yovi couldn't guess

;

because his face was so

much

older than

his

body. "

You

ing

"

we bo}'s know if there wasn't any harm in )'our tellwhy, we Avanted to knoAV what kind of a thing we

wanted

]\Ir.

see,

Blake,"

said

Sammy,

to

are going to have on Christmas at our Sunday-school."

"

you ing.

Well, boys,

do.

The

I

don't

know any more about

teachers will talk

They have already

it

settled

it

yet than

over at their next meet-

some

things, but

I

have

"

not heard what " I hope it will be something good to eat," said

my

Tommy's body looked

Puffer.

I

world like

was an india-rubber pudding-bag, shouldn't like to say that Tommy was a glut-

a pudding-bag.

though.

for all the

Tom-

It

QUEER STORIES.

26

But

ton.

am

I

sure that no

boy of

his

of sight, in the same space of time, so

age could put out

many dough-nuts,

ginger-snaps, tea-cakes, apple-dumphngs, pumpkin-pies,

puddings, ice-creams, raisins, nuts, and other Other people stared at him in wonder.

jelly-tarts,

things of the sort.

He was

never too

him, and

at

parties his all

when

said

Tommy

weak and

she could

ways getting

and rolled

to eat,

to take anything that

full

if it

he hoped

I

hope

it

Tommy

with.

al-

So

would be something nice though he had a

the boys laughed, and Mr.

all

think even the cane would have smiled

I

had thought ''

to stuff

was offered

mother was

his soft lips about, as

cream-tart in his mouth,

Blake smiled.

foolish

it

polite.

it'll

Fred

be something pleasant," said

Welch.

and

"

So do

I," said

"

So do

I,

all

back,

the

stumpy

way down

" So do

little

Tommy

Bantam.

boys," said Mr. Blake, as he turned the block Old so do

Ebony kept

away

;

calling

" I

boys Mr. l^lake and his friend the cane kept on down the street, until they stood in front of a building that was " The Yellow Row." It was a called long, two-story frame building, that had once been inhabited by genteel people.

Why

I,

!

they ever built

!

it

in

that shape, or

why

they daubed it with yellow paint, is more than I can tell. But it had gone out of fashion, and now it was, as the bo}'s expressed

" it,

seedy."

Old hats and old clothes

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK.

many

filled

of the places once

filled

by

2/ Into one

glass.

room of this row Mr. Blake entered, saying " " How are you, Aunt Parm'ly ?

:

"

I know'd Howd'y, Mr. Blake, howd'y you was a-comin', honey, fer I hyeard the sound of yer cane afore !

you come

I'm mis'able these yer days, tjiank you. got a headache, an' a backache, and a toothache in

I'se

in.

de boot" suppose the poor old colored woman meant to say " to boot." that she had a toothache " You see, Mr. Blake, Jane's got a little sumpin to do now, and we can git bread enough, thank the Lord, but I

as fer coal, that's the hardest of

all.

We

has to buy

it

by

the bucketful, and that's mighty high at fifteen cents a

bucket.

An' pears

like

head on account of

we

my

couldn't never git nothin' a-

roomatiz.

Where de

coal's to

come from dis ere winter I don't know, cep de good Lord it down out of the sky and I reckon stone-coal don't never come dat dar road." After some more talk, Mr. Blake went in to see Peter

sends

;

Sitles, the blind

" "

I

That

broom-maker.

hyeard yer air

stick,

preacher Blake," said

Sitles.

whole rigimint of An' I've been a-havin' on the

stick o' yourn's better'n a

doctors fer the blues.

blues powerful bad, Mr. Blake, these yer last few days. I

remembered what you was asaying

was

here, about

trustin' of the

the last time

good Lord,

But

I've

you had

QUEER STORIES.

28

a purty consid'able heartache under

Now,

my jacket

Ben of mine," and here

there's that

fer all that.

Sitles pointed

whose pants

to a restless little fellow of nine years old,

had been patched and pieced until they had more colors than Joseph's coat. He was barefoot, ragged, and looked hungry, as some poor children always do. Their minds seem hungrier than their bodies. He was rocking a baby in an old cradle. "There's Ben," continued the blind man, " he's as peart a boy as you ever see, preacher Blake, ef I do say it as hadn't orter say it. Bennie hain't got no clothes.

I

can't beg.

But Ben

Here Peter Sitles choked a little. " How's broom-making Peter? "

Well, you see,

"

orter be in school."

said the minister.

the machines as

it's

is

a-spoiling us.

The machines makes brooms cheap, and what can feller like

fingers

?

a blind

me do

agin the machines with nothing but

'Tain't

no sort

machines, when

o'

use to butt

my

got no eyes nother.

I ain't

my

head agin the It's

like a

Ef I could only edgoat trying it on a locomotive. dicate Peter and the other two, I'd be satisfied. You never had no book-larnin' myself, and proper no more'n a cow can climb a tree." see, I

" cost

But, Mr. Sitles,

you

?

"

" More'n dollars,

and

how much would

a

I

can't talk

broom-machine

asked the minister. it's if it

any use

to think on.

It'll

cost seventy

cost seventy cents 'twould be jest exactly

seventy cents more'n

I

could afford to pay.

P'or the

MR. BLAKE

WALKING-STICK.

29

washin' don't go noways towards feedin' the four children, let alone buying

money mj at all

me

woman

S

ole

fer

gits

a machine."

The

minister looked at his cane, but

Something must be done.

him.

of that.

The

it

did not answer

minister was sure

But what

Perhaps the walking-stick was, too.

?

That was the question.

The

minister told Sitles good-by, and started to

make

And

on the way the cane kept crying out, Something vmst be done something MUST be done something MUST be done," making the must ring out other "

visits.

When

Mr. Blake and the walkingmarket-house, just as they turned off from

sharper every time. stick got to the

Milk Street into the busier Main Street, the cane changed " But what but what but tune and to

its

begun

WHAT

but

minister's

say,

WHAT,"

until

it

said

it

so sharply that the

head ached, and he put Old Ebony under his it couldn't talk any more. It was a way he

arm, so that

had of hushing

it

up when he wanted

to think.

II.

LONG-HEADED WILLIE. "

De

biskits

is

cold,

and de steaks

is

cold as

as

ice,

and dinner's spiled " said Curlypate, a girl about three years old, as Mr. Blake came in from his forenoon of visit!

ing.

She

tried to look

very

much vexed and

"

put out,"

QUEER STORIES.

30

but there was always either a smile or a cry hidden away in her dimpled cheek, " Pshaw Curlypate," said Mr. Blake as he put down " " And he lifted his cane, you don't scold worth a cent !

!

her up and kissed her.

And

then

Mamma Blake

smiled, and they

all sat

down

While they ate, Mr. Blake told about his morning visits, and spoke of Parm'ly without coal, and Peter Sitles with no broom-machine, and described little

to the table.

Ben Sitles' hungry face, and told how he had visited the widow Martin, who had no sewing-machine, and who had The overto receive help from the overseer of the poor. seer told her that she

years old,

help

;

must bind out her daughter, twelve

and her boy often,

if

she expected to have any

and the mother's heart was just about broken

at

the thought of losing her children.

Now, while

all this

minister's son, a

was taking

boy about

place, Willie Blake, the

thirteen years of age, sat

the big porcelain water-pitcher, listening to

all

that

by was

His deep blue eyes looked past the pitcher at his father, then at his mother, taking in all their descriptions said.

of poverty with a wondrous pitifulness.

say much.

What went on

But he did not

long head I do not was one of those heads that projected forin his

know, for his ward and backward, and the top of which overhung the Now and base, for all the world like a load of hay. then his mother looked at him, as

if

she would like to

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK.

31

see through and read his thoughts. But I think she didn't see anything but the straight, silken, fine, flossy hair, silvery white,

he turned

touched a

little

only a

bit

little

as

looking from one to the other, with a tinge of what people call a golden, but what is really a sort of it

in

He

a pleasant straw color.

questions, and

like

laughed

usually talked, and asked

other boys

;

now he

but

seemed

to be swallowing the words of his father and mother more rapidly even than he did his dinner for, like most boys, he ate as if it were a great waste of time to eat. But when he was done he did not hurry off as ;

eagerly as usual to reading or to play.

He

sat

and

listened.

"

What makes you

Helen, his sister. " What

you

look so sober, Wihie

thinkin', Willie

" ?

''

?

asked

saia Curlypate, peer-

ing through the pitcher handle at him. "

" Willie," broke in his father,

mamma

"

Sugar

"Out

at

I

are go-

"

broke in Curlypate. continued Mr. Blake, stroking Sugar Hill,"

Hill

the Curlypate, shall

O my

and

"

ing to a wedding out at Sugar Hill ;

"and

not be back

till

as

!

I

have some

bedtime.

I

am

calls to

sorry to

make, we

keep you Saturday afternoon, but we have no other housekeeper but you and Helen. See that the children get their suppers early, and be careful about from your play

fire."

this

QUEER

32

believe to

I

mand

"be

STORIES.

careful about fire

" is

the last com-

that every parent gives to children on leaving

them

alone.

Now

I

know

who write stories are very make their boys too good. I

that people

nowadays not to

careful

" taking on ought to represent Willie as a good deal when he found that he couldn't play all Saturday afternoon, as he had expected. But I shall not. For "

supposaithat

one thing, If I tell

I

at least, in

you

that he

is

my

story,

is

true

;

that

good you may believe

is,

it.

Willie. I

have

seen him.

He

only said,

"

Yes,

sir."

Mrs. Blake did not keep a

girl.

get a small fortune of a salary.

The So

minister did not

happened that Willie knew pretty well how to keep house. He was a brave never ashamed to his mother in a boy, good help it

manly way. He could wash dishes and milk the and often, when mamma had a sick-headache, had cow, he gotten a good breakfast, never forgetting tea and toast right

for the invalid.

So Sancho, the Canadian pony, was harnessed to the minister's rusty buggy, and Mr. and Mrs. Blake got in and told the children good-by. Then Sancho started off,

and had gone about ten

" denly reined up with a

"Willie "Sir."

" !

Whoa

said Mr. Blake.

steps, " !

when he was

sud-

MR. BLAKE " Be careful about

"Yes,

S

WALKING-STICK.

33

fire."

sir."

And

then old blackey-brown Sancho moved on in a gentle trot, and Willie and Helen and Richard went into the house, where Curlypate had already gone, and where

they found her on tiptoe, with her short the sugar-bowl, trying in vain to find a

not go in

to pieces in the

her desire to

make

little

lump

fingers in

that

would

vigorous squeeze that she gave

sure of

it.

So Willie washed the dishes, while Helen wiped them, and Richard put them away, and they had a merry time, though Willie had to soothe several rising disputes between Helen and Richard.

was gotten

in,

the carpet

in

Then

a glorious lot of

wood

and Helen came near sweeping a hole in her desire to " mamma."

Curlypate went

eager

in

surprise

the parlor and piled things up in a

wonderful way, declaring that she, too, was going to '' And doubtless mamma would have siisprise mamma."

no

felt

after

little

surprise

Curlypate

Later

"

put

if it

she could have seen the parlor to rights."

the evening the

in

cow was milked, and a plain Then Richard and Cur-

supper of bread and milk eaten.

And presently were put away for the night. Helen, who was bravely determined to keep Willie company, found her head trying to drop off her shoulders, lypate

and so she had to give up to the " sand man," and go bed. 3

to

QUEER STORIES.

34

III.

THE WALKING-STICK A TALKING Willie was now

himself.

by

all

He

STICK.

put on more

fire, and lay wood, and drew up by back in it. It was very still he could hear every mouse The stillness seemed to settle clear down that moved.

the

the rocking-chair ;

to

his

heart.

wagon went clattering by. away in the distance, it seemed

Presently a

Then, as the sound died but he couldn't. Willie tried to sleep stiller than even He kept listening and after all he was listening to nothnothing but that awful clock, that would keep up ing ;

;

;

The

such a tick-tick, tick-tick, tick-tick.

down, out.

curtains were

and Willie didn't dare to raise them, or to

He

could feel

how dark

it

peep

was out doors.

But presently he forgot the stillness. He ing of what his father had said at dinner.

fell

to think-

He

thought

of poor old rheumatic Parm'ly, and her single bucket of He thought of the blind broom-maker coal at a time.

Avho needed a broom-machine, and of the poor

widow

whose children must be taken away because the mother had no sewing-machine. All of these thoughts made the night seem dark, and they

made

Willie's heart heavy.

But the thoughts kept him company. Then he wished he was rich, and he thought as rich as Captain Purser,

who owned

if

he were

the mill, he would

MR. BLAKE

WALKING-STICK.

'*'(."'

S

35

away sewing-ma^iines to all poor widows who needed them. But pshaw what was the use of wishing? give

!

how

His threadbare pantaloons told him from being rich.

But he would go

;

he was

he would become

He would make

a civil engineer.

when he became

to the Polytechnic

far off

celebrated.

a fortune some day Then he would give Widow

This was the nice castle

Martin a sewing-machine.

But

the air that Willie built.

he put on the down.

just as

in

last

stone a single thought knocked it What would become of the widow and her children while he was learning to be an engineer and making a fortune afterward

And where would

?

he get the money

question Willie had go asked every day for a year or two past. Unable to solve this problem, his head grew tired, and " Somehe lay down on the lounge, saying to himself, to the Polytechnic

to

thing must be done "

?

This

" !

Something must be done

body spoke.

He

last

"

Willie

!

was sure some-

There was nobody

looked around.

in

the room. "

" This time he saw in Something must be done the corner of the room, barely visible in the shadow, his father's cane. The voice seemed to come from that corner. !

"

Something MUST be done He could see its head, and the '

!

toward him.

How

bright

its

Yes, face

was the cane.

it

on one side was

eyes were

!

It

did

not

QUEER STORIES.

36

occur to Willie just then that there was anything surpris-

had

ing in the fact that the walking-stick

come

all

at

once be-

a talking stick, "

said the cane, lifting Something MUST be done its one foot up and bringing it down with emphasis at the word must, Willie felt pleased that the little old man I

"

!

mean his

should come to his help,

the walking-stick

"

you what,"

I tell

shady corner

stopped as "

shame

if

" ;

I

said tell

Old Ebony, hopping out of you what," it said, and then

to reflect; then finished

by

" saying,

It's

a

!

Willie

was about to ask the cane

to

what he

referred,

till Old Ebony got ready to But the walking-stick did not

but he thought best to wait tell

of his

own

accord.

think best to answer immediately, but took entirely a

new and

surprising track.

Scripture

"

It

actually went to quoting

!

" and eyes are dim," said the cane, learning canes weren't sent to school

My

much

;

young.

Won't you read the

thirty-fifth

I

never had

when

verse

I

was

of the

twentieth chapter of Acts." Willie turned to the stand and saw the Bible open at that verse.

enough

to

himself, for

read "

He did not feel him. He read

surprised.

It

seemed natural

the verse, not aloud, but to

Old Ebony seemed

to hear his thoughts.

He

:

Ye ought

to support the

weak, and to remember

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK.

the words of the

Lord

Jesus,

how he

37

said,

It is

more

blessed to give than to receive."

"

Now,"

said the walking-stick, stepping or

hopping the over and the toward thoughtfully leaning lounge up " the when that it is a shame that head of it, Now, I say birthday of that Lord Jesus, to give than to receive,

who

said

comes round,

it

all

is

more blessed

of }'ou Sunday-

school scholars are thinking only of what you are going to get."

Willie

was about

to say that they gave as well as re-

ceived on Christmas, and that his class had already raised

money to buy a Bible Dictionary for their teacher. But Old Ebony seemed to guess his thought, and he only

the

said,

"

And

that's

another shame

Willie couldn't see

how

" !

this could be,

and he thought

the walking-stick was using very strong language indeed. the cane spoke too sharply, for I don't I think

myself

and receiving from our But you don't care friends, but in neglecting the poor. what I think, you want to know what the cane said.

think the

harm

lies

in giving to

" I'm said Old pretty well acquainted with Scripture," Ebony, "having spent fourteen years in company with a minister.

Now

won't you please read the twelfth and

thirteenth verses of the fourteenth chapter of

But before the cane could

"

finish the sentence, Willie

heard some one opening the door. It was his father. He looked round in bewilderment. The oil in the lamp

QUEER STORIES.

38

had burned out, and

room

the

it

The

was dark.

fire

was low, and

chilly.

"

" where's Heigh-ho, Willie, my son," said Mr. Blake, your light, and where's your fire. This is a cold reception. What have you been doing ? " " and thinkListening to the cane talk," he replied ing what a foolish answer that was, he put on some more ;

who was lighting the lamp, said he must have been dreaming. The walking-stick stood coal, while his

mother,

in its corner, face

to the wall, as

if

it

had never been a

talking stick.

IV.

MR. BLAKE AGREES

WITH THE WALKING-STICK. *

Early on Sunday morning to think

him

about

Sitles,

But

all

to

Willie

awoke and began

wish he had

money

to

buy

And

then he thought of widow his thinking would do no good. Then

a broom-machine.

Martin.

and

he thought of what Old Ebony had said, and he wished he could know what that text was that the cane was just

going to quote.

"It was," said Willie, "the twelfth and thirteenth verses of the fourteenth chapter of something.

I'll

see."

So he began with the beginning of the Bible, and first at Genesis xiv. 12, 13. But it was about the time when Abraham had heard of the capture of Lot and

looked

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK.

mustered

his

army

He

to recapture him.

39

thought a min-

ute.

" That can't be what

it

is," said

WilHe,

"

I'll

look at

Exodus."

Exodus

In

it

was about standing

Red Sea might mean that

still

at the

and waiting for God's salvation. It God would deliver the poor. But that was not

what the cane gifts to friends.

w^as talking

about.

So he went on

to

just

was about giving But it was Leviticus. It

about the wave-offering, and the sin-offering, and the That was not it, and so he went from burnt-offering.

book

to

book

until

he had reached the twelfth and

thir-

teenth verses of the fourteenth chapter of the book of He was just reading in that place about SamJudges. son's riddle, when his mamma called him to breakfast.

He was

afraid to say anything about

fear of being

laughed

walking-stick said.

at.

And

But he was at family

the twentieth chapter of Acts.

it

at the table for

full

of what the

worship his father read When he came to the

being more blessed to give than to receive, " Willie said, That's what the cane said." " " What did you say ? asked his father. " I was only thinking out loud," said Willie. " Don't think out loud while I am reading," said Mr. part about

its

Blake. Willie did not find time to look

any further

for the

QUEER

40

STORIES.

He

wished his father had happened on them instead of the first text which the cane quoted. other verses.

In church he kept thinking cane.

"

Now

what could

all

the time about the

mean by

it

the twelfth and

thirteenth verses of the fourteenth chapter

anything

in

?

There

isn't

away presents to dream anyhow, and maybe

the Bible against giving

one's friends.

It

was only a

there's nothing in it."

But he forgot the services, I am sorry to say, in his thoughts. At last Mr. Blake arose to read his text. Willie looked at him, but thought of

what the cane

said.

But what was it that attracted his attention so quickly " " The twelfth and thirteenth verses " Twelfth and thirteenth *'

" !

said Willie to himself.

Of the fourteenth chapter,"

" Fourteenth chapter "Of Luke." Willie was

all ears,

" !

?

said the minister.

said Willie, almost aloud.

while Mr. Blake read

he also to him that bade him,

When

:

" Then said

thou makest a din-

ner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren,

nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, neither thy kinsmen,

the lame, the blind."

"That's it!" he

said,

half aloud,

but his mother

jogged him. Willie had never listened to a sermon as he did to

that.

MR. BLAKE

S

WALKING-STICK.

4T

He stopped two or three times to wonder whether the cane had been actually about to repeat his father's text to him, or whether he had not heard his father repeat it at some

time, and

am

I

had dreamed about

it.

tell you much about Mr. Blake's was a sermon that he and the walking-stick

not going to

sermon.

It

had prepared while they were going round among the I think Mr. Blake did not strike his cane down on poor, the sidewalk for nothing.

Most of

that

sermon must have

in that way, when he and the walking" For were saying, " Something must be done It told about the that was just what that sermon said.

been hammered out stick

!

wrong of

forgetting,

Christ, to

do anyBut Mr.

made everybody think. know how much of that sermon went

thing for the poor.

Blake did not

on the birthday of It

into

Willie Blake's long head, as he sat there with his white full

forehead turned up to his father.

V.

THE FATHER PREACHES AND THE SON PRACTISES.

That

afternoon Willie was at Sunday-school long be-

fore the time.

"

I'll

tell

He

had a plan,

you what, boys,"

Mr. Marble anything give us anything.

would use

this

Let's

for us with the

year

;

said he, "let's not give

and

get him

let's

ask him not to

to put the

money he

money we should spend on

a

QUEER STORIES.

42

present for him, and give

it

to

buy

Aunt

coal for old

Parm'ly."

"

and

I

mean

to spend

Tommy

said

tarts,"

all

my money

on

soft

gum-drops

"they're splendid!"

Puffer;

and with that he began, as usual, to

roll

his soft lips to-

gether in a half-chewing, half-sucking manner, as if he had a half dozen cream-tarts under his tongue, and two

dozen gum-drops in his cheeks. " Tomm)'-," said stumpy little

good thing you

Sammy Bantam,

didn't live in Egypt,

Tommy,

"

in the

it's

a

days

of Joseph."

"

Why ?

"

asked

Tommy.

"Because," said Sammy, looking around the room absently, as if he hardly knew what he was going to say, " because, you see" and then he opened a book and began to read, as if he had forgotten to finish the sentence.

"

"

Well,

why

" ?

demanded Tommy,

sharply,

Joseph had had to feed you during the seven years of plenty, there wouldn't have been a Well, because

morsel

left for

if

the years of famine

The boys laughed

Tommy

reddened a

as

boys little and

" !

will

at a

good

shot,

said, regretfully, that

and he

guessed the Egyptians hadn't any doughnuts. Willie did not forget his main purpose, but carried the point in his

own

class.

some of the boys and

He

girls in

still

had time to speak to

other classes.

Everybody

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK.

liked to

do what Willie asked

;

43

there was something sweet

and strong in his blue eyes, eyes that " did not seem to have any bottom, they were so deep," one of the girls said. Soon there was an excitement in the school, and about the door; girls and boys talking and discussing, but as soon as any opposition came up Willie's half-coax-

way bore it down. I think he was much It helped by Sammy's wit, which was all on his side. ing but decided

was agreed, to teachers,

finally, that

whatever scholars meant to give

or teachers

to scholars,

should go to the

poor.

The

much

teachers caught the enthusiasm, and were very

in favor of the project, for in the

whole movement

fruit of their own teaching. The superintendent had been detained, and was

they saw the

prised to find

the school standing

in

sur-

knots about the

He

soon called them to order, and expressed his There regrets that they should get into such disorder. was a smile on all faces, and he saw that there was someroom.

thing more in the apparent disorder than he thought. After school it was fixed that each class should find its

own

case of poverty.

women's Bible

classes

broom-machine, a

class

The young men's and

any

had

its

class to see that

young

undertook to supply Sitles with a of girls took Aunt Parm'ly under

their wing, other classes

so each class

the

knew

hands

Widow

of other cases of need, and

But Willie could not get Martin had a sewing-machine.

full.

QUEER STORIES.

44 That was

for his

left

eight boys do

own; and how should

a class of

it ?

VI.

SIXTY-FIVE DOLLARS,

Willie took ured on

it.

the machine.

buy

Tommy little

The seven boys were

He

had gone home.

Puffer

staying, and

like

a

the boys into the parsonage. They figThere were sixty-five dollars to be raised to

said he didn't feel

Sammy Bantam thought he must be

hungry.

Willie attacked the problem

ward

together, for

that

To-

sixty-five dollars.

amount they had three

dollars

and a half that

they had intended to spend on a present for Mr. Marble. That left just sixty-one dollars and fifty cents to be raised.

He

Willie ran across the street and brought Mr. Marble. said he had

apiece,

rather

made up

his

mind

to give the

and that each book would cost a

more than he could

well afford

;

boys a

dollar.

book

It

was

but as he had in-

tended to give eight dollars for their presents, and as he was pleased with their unselfish behavior, he would make it

ten. "

Good

" !

said Charley Somerset,

" that makes bright side of things, dollars and a half."

who always saw

it all,

the

except fifty-one

MR. BLAKE "

S

WALKING-STICK,

" and you're eleven feet

Sammy Bantam,

Yes," said

high, lacking a couple of yards

45

" !

Willie next called his father in, and inquired

how much

Christmas present was to cost. " Three and a half," said his father. " That's a lot Will

his

you give me the money

!

stead

in-

" ?

" Yes

I meant to give you a Life of George and some other books on engineering." Stephenson,

This

;

but

made

Willie think a

moment

walking-stick in the corner, he said

but seeing the " Mrs. Martin must

:

;

have a machine, and that three and a half makes seventeen dollars.

How to get the other forty-eight is

the question."

Mr. Blake and Mr. Marble both agreed that the boys could not raise so much money, and should not under-

But Willie said there was nobody to do it, and he guessed it would come somehow. The other boys,

take

it.

when they came their presents

to church that evening, told Willie that

were commuted

money also

for

twenty-five dollars toward the amount.

so they

;

had

But that was the

end of

it, and there were forty dollars yet to come Willie lay awake that night, thinking. Mr. Marble's !

class could not

had given

all

raise the

they could.

give in their classes.

spare besides to just

it

;

money.

buy

And

And

All the other classes

would each

the teachers

they had raised

nuts and candy

they would do without candy

all

Good

!

!

!

they could

That was

QUEER STORIES.

46

At

school the next morning, Willie's white head was

He made

bobbing about eagerly. sign a petition, asking the

every boy and girl Sunday-school teachers not to

give them any nuts or candy.

Tommy Pufifer.

He

They might

candy.

school, or

twinkle in

said

it

They all signed except was real mean not to have any

just as well not

have any Sunday-

any Christmas either. But seeing a naughty Sammy Bantam's eye, he waddled away, while

fired a shot after him, by remarking that, if had been one of the shepherds in Bethlehem, he wouldn't have listened to the angels till he bed inquired

Sammy Tommy if

they had any lemon-drops in their pockets That night the extra Teachers' Meeting was held, !

and

in

walked white-headed Willie with stunted

Bantam

keep him

at his heels to

in

countenance.

Sammy When

was presented. Miss Belden, who sat near " Well done Willie." Willie, said, " But I who was of about protest," said Mrs. Pufifer " I as handsome a figure as her son protest against such an outrage on the children. My Tommy's been a-feeling their petition

!

bad about

it all

day.

It'll

break his heart

if

he don't get

some candy." Willie

was shy, but

for a

moment he

turning his intelligent blue eyes

"

It will

break Mrs. Martin's heart

taken away from her." " " Well," said Mrs. PufTer,

forgot

it,

and,

on Mrs. Puffer, he said

I

if

her children are

always did hear that the

MR. BLAKE

preacher's

take

S

WALKING-STICK.

boy was the worst

any impudence.

My

in the

parish,

47

and

I

won't

son will join the Mission

School, where they aren't too stingy to give him a bit of "

candy

And

!

Mrs.

Puffer

left,

and

everybody was

pleased.

Willie got the

money

on making up their

but the teachers had counted

;

festival

mostly with cakes and other

So that the candy by families. was sixteen and Willie was yet a long dollars, money only way off from having the amount he needed. Twentyfour dollars were yet wanting. dainties, contributed

VII.

THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS.

The husband railroad

accident.

Widow

Martin had been killed by a The family were very poor. Mrs.

of

Martin could sew, and she could have sustained her family

if

she had had a machine.

But

fingers are not

worth much against iron wheels. And so, while others had machines, Mrs. Martin could not make much without one.

She had been obliged

to ask help

from the overseer

of the poor.

not

Mr. Lampeer, the overseer, was a hard man. He had skill enough to detect impostors, and so he had come

to believe that

everybody who was poor was

rascally.

QUEER

48

STORIES.

He had

but one eye, and he turned his head round in a That dreadful one curious way to look at you out of it.

eye always seemed to be going to shoot. His voice had not a chord of tenderness in it, but was in every way harsh and hard. It was said that he had been a schoolmaster once.

Widow

I

pity the scholars.

you could call it living in a tumble-down-looking house, that would not have stood many earthquakes. She had tried diligently to support Martin lived

if

her family and keep them together

;

but the wolf stood

Sewing by hand did not bring in quite money enough to buy bread and clothes for four well children, and pay the expenses of poor little Harry's

always at the door.

sickness

been

through the summer and fall Harry had At last the food was gone, and there was

for all

;

sick.

nothing to buy fuel with.

Mrs. Martin had to go to the

overseer of the poor.

She was Martin

;

a

little,

shy, hard-working

when she took her

so

of every sort in

seat

Mr. Lampeer's

woman,

among

office,

this

Mrs.

the paupers

and waited her

was with a trembling heart. She watched the turn, hard man, who didn't mean to be so hard, but who it

couldn't

tell

counterfeit

;

the difference between a good face and a

she watched him as he went through with

the different cases, and her heart beat every minute

and more with

violently.

When

more

he came to her he broke out

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK. " What's joiir the world as

if

name?

"

49

sounded

in a voice that

he were accusing her of robbing a

"Sarah Martin,"

for all

safe.

said the

widow, trembling with terand growing red and white in turns. Mr. Lampeer,

ror,

who was on

the lookout for any sign of guiltiness, was

now

sure that Mrs. Martin could not be honest.

"

Where do you

live ?

"

This was spoken with a half

sneer.

" In Slab Alley," whispered the widow,

was scared out of "

How many

children have

Mrs. Martin gave him the

him of

ages, telling

and an

little

"

you got list

?

of her

five,

Harry, who was

with their

six years old

is

twelve, and a

girl.

I

have a place for must bind them

You think, for the boy, too. Mr. Slicker, the landlord of the Farmers' Hotel, take the girl, and I think James Sweeny will take the

her, and,

will

her voice

invalid.

" Your oldest

out.

for

her.

I

boy to run errands about the livery stable. I'll send you some provisions and coal to-day but you must let the children go. I'll come to your house in a few days. ;

Don't object I won't hear a word. If you're as poor as you let on to be, you'll be glad enough to get your young ones into places where they'll get enough to eat. That's ;

all

not a word, now."

plicant, leaving the

cold.

4

And

widow

to

he turned to the next ap-. go home with her heart

STORIES.

QUEER

50

What kind of a Let Susie go to Slicker's tavern house would it be without her ? Who would attend to !

the house while she sewed of her girl in such a place

had

to wait

to send

on Harry

him away

forever was to

hope of ever being in better circumstances. she could not sew, and the children could never

shut out

Then

?

And what would become And then to send George, who ?

all

God

help her.

public charity

pity the people that

into the

fall

!

The next few days wore heavily on with

What

to

slept at

do she did not know.

all.

hands of

When

At

the widow.

night she scarcely

she did drop into a sleep, she

that her children were starving,

and woke

dreamed

in fright.

Then

she slept again, and dreamed that a one-eyed robber had gotten in at the window, and was carrying off Susie and

morning came. The last of the food and Widow Martin sat down to

George.

At

was eaten

for breakfast,

wait.

last

Her mind was

starve to death

horrible state of doubt.

in a

together,

or to give

To

up her children

!

That was the question which many a poor mother's heart has had to decide. Mrs. Martin soon became so nervous

She could not keep back the tears, and when Susie and George put their arms about her

she could not sew.

neck and asked what was the matter, ter

worse.

It

was

sleigh-bells jingled

the

it

made

the mat-

day before Christmas.

merrily.

Even

in

The

Slab Alley one

could hear sounds of joy at the approaching

festivities.

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK.

5

1

But there was no joy in Widow Martin's house or heart. The dinner-hour had come and passed. The Uttle chil-

And

dren were hungry.

yet Mrs. Martin had not

made

up her mind.

At

the appointed time

Lampeer came.

He

took out

the two indentures with which the mother was to, sign

away

all

that the

two eldest

right to her

widow

do no work

for

told

her

him

own

right to love children.

if

It

was

in vain

she lost them she could

support, and must be forever a

Lampeer had an

pauper.

his eye,

that

children.

idea that no poor person had a

Parental love was, in his eyes, or

an expensive luxury that none but the rich should in.

indulge " Mrs.

Martin," he said,

indentures,

by which your

"you may

girl will

either sign these

get a

good place

as a

nurse and errand-girl for the tavern-keeper's wife, and

have plenty to eat and get to be a good " With and you your young ones may starve that he took his hat and opened the door, " " I must have medicine " said Mrs. Martin. Stop and food, or Harry will not live till Sunday. I will sign."

your boy

will

hostler, or

!

!

The papers were again spread out. The poor-master jerked the folds out of them impatiently, in a way that seemed, to say, " You keep me an unconscionable long time about a very small matter."

When

the papers were spread out, Mrs. Martin's two

oldest children,

who began

to understand

what was going

52

QUEER STORIES.

on, cried bitterly.

Mrs. Martin took the pen and was

about to sign. But it was necessary to have two witnesses, and so Lampeer took his hat and called a neighbor-woman, for the second witness. Mrs. Martin delayed the signature as long as she But seeing no other help, she took up the pen. could.

She thought of Abraham with the knife in his hand. She hoped that an angel would call out of heaven to her But as there was no voice from heaven, she relief. dipped the pen in the ink. Just then some one happened to knock at the door,

and the poor woman's nerves were so weak that she let the pen fall, and sank into a chair. Lampeer, who stood near the door, opened it with an impatient jerk, and did the angel of deliverance enter It

?

was only Willie Blake and

Sammy

Bantam.

VIII.

SHARPS AND BETWEENS.

Let

us go back.

We

over that twenty-four

left

Willie awhile ago puzzling

many hours of Sammy about how they should dollars.

After

thought and talk with manage it, two gentlemen gave them nine dollars, and so But that fifteen there was but fifteen more to be raised.

seemed harder

to get than the fifty they

had already got-

T- T-* S WALKING-STICK. MR. BLAKE

At

53

thought of something. They would Mr. Sharps would throw try the sewing-machine man. ten.

last Willie

off fifteen dollars.

But they did not know Mr. Sharps. Though he made fifteen dollars on the machine, he hated to throw anything off. He was always glad to put on.

more than

described him by saying that " Mr. Sharps was not for-giving but he was for-getting."

Sammy

They

talked; they told the story

they begged. not afford to could throw off a cent. Sharps really ;

Mr.

He

was poor. Taxes were high. He gave a great deal. (I do not know what he called a great deal. He had been to church three times in a year, and twice he had put a

penny

in the plate.

And

suppose Mr. Sharps thought that

I

was, for him, poor fellow.) And then the butcher had raised the price of meat and he a great deal.

so

it

;

had

to

dollars

for

pay twenty-three Really, he was too poor. daughter.

a bonnet

for

his

So the boys went

away down-hearted. went straight to an uncle of his, who was one of the editors of the Thornton Daily Bugle. After

But

Sammy

a private talk with Willie followed his

him he

Sammy

started

this time.

back to Mr. Sharps. What Sammy had in

head Willie could not make out. " I'll fix him " That was the only word !

tered on the

"

Sammy

ut-

back.

way " Now, Mr, Sharps," he began, my

uncle's

name

is

QUEER STORIES.

54

Maybe you know

Josiah Penn.

He's one of the

him.

editors of the Thornton Daily Bugle.

with him.

If

you

ing-machine for

let

me

I've

been talking

have a Feeler and Stilson sew-

fifty dollars, I will

have a good notice put

in the

Daily Bugled Mr. Sharps whistles a minute. not do it. No, he was too poor.

He

thought he could

"Well, then, Willie," said Sammy, "we'll go across the street and try the agent of the Hillrocks and Nibbs

machine.

"O chine.

I

think Mr. Betweens will take

my

offer."

Mr. Sharps, "you don't want that maonly a single thread, and it will ravel, and

!" said It's

you don't want that." Indeed, my mother says there isn't a pin to choose between them," said Sammy "and I can give Mr. Bewell

"

;

tweens just as good a notice as

"Very

well

;

I

could give you."

take the machine for

fifty dollars.

just out of pity for the widow, you know. could stand by and see suffering and not relieve it

won't forget about that notice will

you

?

in the

I

do

I

never

it.

You

Daily Bugle, though,

"

No, Sammy wouldn't forget. It was now the day before Christmas, and the boys thought they had better get the machine down there.

So they found

Billy Horton, who belonged to their and who drove an express wagon, and told him about it. He undertook to take it down. But first, he

class,

MR. BLAKE

, ',-.

WALKING-STICK.

S

drove around the town and picked up class, that

the boys of the

they might share

in the pleasure.

a gentleman

who had heard

Meantime, forts,

all

gave him a

five-dollar bill for

55

Widow

of Willie's

Martin.

ef-

This

Willie invested in provisions, which he instructed the grocer to send to the widow.

He and Sammy

hurried

down

to

Widow

Martin's and

got there, as I told you in the last chapter, just as she was about to sign away all right, title, and interest in two of

them away at the command of the hard Mr, Lampeer, who was very much irritated that he should be interrupted just at the moment when he was

her children

;

to sign

about to carry the point for he loved to carry a point better than to eat his breakfast. ;

IX.

THE ANGEL STAYS THE HAND.

When

the boys

came

in,

they told the widow that

they wished to speak with little sick Harry. They talked to Harry awhile, without noticing what was going on in the other part of the room.

Presently Willie

felt his

he saw Susie's tearful give in

arm

face.

me and George away."

pulled.

Somehow

school had the habit of coming

Willie for help, and to

Looking round, let mother

" Please don't all

the children

to this

long-headed

him Susie came.

QUEER STORIES.

56

That word

of Susie's

moment he had

Now

for.

awakened

Up

Willie.

not thought what Mr.

to that

Lampeer was there

he saw Mrs. Martin holding the pen with trem-

bling hand, and to

making motions in the air preparatory Most people not used to writing, writing her name.

When

write in the air before they touch the paper. lie

saw

Wil-

he flew across the room and thrust his hand

this,

upon the place where the name ought to be, saying, " Don't do Don't give away your that, Mrs. Martin !

children

Poor knife

" !

woman

!

the pen dropped from her

hand

as the

She grasped Wil-

had dropped from Abraham's.

arm, saying,

lie's *'

How

can

I

help

it ?

Do

tell

me

" !

But Lampeer had grasped the other arm, and broke out with " You

rogue, what do you

mean

" ?

Willie's fine blue eyes turned quickly into

one

muddy

Lampeer's

eye.

" " Let he said, go " don't strike

very quietly but very determe, or my father will take the law

!

minedly on you."

;

Lampeer

let

go.

Just then the groceries came, and a minute later, Billy Horton's wagon drove up with the machine, and all the

other boys,

who came

in

and shook hands with the poor

but delighted mother and her children.

I

cannot

tell

MR. BLAKE

S

WALKING-STICK.

57

you any more about that scene. I only know peer went out angry and muttering.

that

Lam-

He went down

to the

X.

TOMMY PUFFER. Willie was happy

that night.

festival at the Mission.

oyster-like

body among

There was

Tommy

Puffer's soft,

the scholars of the Mission.

He

was waiting for something good. His mouth and eyes were watering. He looked triumphantly at the boys from the other school.

They wouldn't

The superintendent announced

get anything so nice.

no boy's name would

that

"

be called for a paper bag of refreshments but those who had been present two Sundays. And so poor starving '

had to carry his pudding-bag of a body a chance to give it an extra stuffing. without again

Tommy home

'

Puffer

XI.

AN ODD PARTY. I

CANNOT

machine

to

you about the giving of the broomthe blind broom-maker of the ton of coal to tell

Aunt Parm'ly, and

;

of

all

the other things that happened

on Christmas Day when the presents were given. leave these things out.

As

for

I

must

Aunt Parm'ly, she

said

QUEER STORIES.

58

she did not know, but dat dare coal seemed like

from de sky. But there was an ample

it

come

boys at the Sunday-school, for many biscuits, and cakes, and pies had been baked. But every time WiUie looked at the walkfeast yet for the

" the poor, the maimed, the lame, so he and Sammy Bantam soon set

ing-stick he thought of

And

and the blind."

the whole school, teachers and

all,

with the idea of

a-fire

It was inviting in the inmates of the county poor-house. not half so hard to persuade the members of the school

to

do

this as

it

was

coax them to the

to

when people have found out how good they like to do good again.

first

it

is

move

to

;

for

do good,

There was old crazy Newberry, who had a game-bag slung about his neck, and who imagined that the little pebbles in it were of priceless

Such

a

company

was

it

!

Old Dorothy, who was nearly eighty, and who, thanks to the meanness of the authorities, had not tasted any delicacy, not so much as a cup of tea, since she had value.

been

in

whole less

the almshouse

idiots,

and

;

and there were

and crippled people, armpeople, blind people and deaf.

people and legless

find.

They were

the disgust of

Tommy

Tommy

little

children,

fed with the

things provided for the Sunday-school to

and

sick people,

Such an assortment of men, women, and

you cannot often

half-idiots,

children,

Puffer and his mother.

was bent on getting something to eat here.

good

much For

MR. BLAKE'S WALKING-STICK.

$9

There were plenty of people who claimed the credit of suggesting this lie

way

of spending the Christmas.

did not say anything about

Wil-

he remembered what

had said about blowing a trumpet before you. think Sammy Bantam trumpeted Willie's fame

Christ

But

it,

for

I

enough. It

would be hard

the most.

But

I

I

cannot

the Old Ebony.

who enjoyed

think the givers found

than the receivers.

rounds

to tell

tell.

What If

talk

it

the Christmas

more blessed

Mr. Blake heard

you want

to

in his

know, you must ask

THE CHAIRS

IN COUNCIL.

was a quiet autumn afternoon,

ITa lounge, my

was stretched on

with a pile of newspapers for a pillow. I that I succeeded in getting any information

do not know into

I

head by putting newspapers under it. But on afternoon I was attacked by a disease of

this particular

They would droop. I name the doctors call this

the eyes, or rather of the eyelids.

don't

know

by what learned

disease, but, as

I

could not read with

my

eyes closing

every second or two, I just tucked my newspapers away under my head and rested my eyelids awhile.

remember

I

that there was a hen cackling in the barn,

and a big bumble-bee buzzing and bumbling around in a consequential way among the roses under the window, and

I

could hear the voices of the children

yard playing with their dishes. I don't know how long I had

lain thus.

in the

But

I

front

remem-

ber that the cackling hen and the bumbling bee and the

laughing children seemed to get farther and farther away, All at once the sounds becoming less and less distinct. the sewing chair that sat alongside of me, with a pile of

magazines on

it,

began

to rock,

and

as

it

rocked

it

moved

THE CHAIRS off

from me.

ing hold of

move

I felt

it,

but

And

it.

IN COUNCIL.

surprised,

my

and

at first

6l

thought of tak-

arm seemed so tired that

I

couldn't

the chair rocked itself across the floor, and

through the door into the sitting-room. And as I looked after it, I saw my old library chair hobble into the sitting-

room,

also.

puffing

Then came

the well-cushioned easy chair,

and panting good naturedly, as it rolled smoothly castors. I was just wondering what all this

along on

meant, when the parlor door opened, and there marched chairs, behind which gathered

in a procession of parlor

Next came

the plainer cane-seat ones of the dining-room.

a solemn line of black,

wooden

kitchen chairs.

Then

I

heard a commotion above, and the staid bedroom seats

made

a fearful racket as they

" Are

A

all in

faint noise

came an

now

" ?

was heard on the

arm

chair that

It

had

lain in

for years,

came down the

steps.

said the easy chair, blandly,

old

mother.

webs

we

steps,

and presently

had belonged

to

my

in

grand-

the garret covered with spider

and indeed

it

was quite infirm

in the joints,

and must have had a hard time getting down two

flights

of stairs. I

now

tried to

move, determined

was the matter with the crept

"

all

over

me and

I

lay

to

go and see what

furniture, but the tired feeling still.

Well," said the easy chair, who seemed to be presi" we are dent, ready for business." There was a confused murmur, and the next I knew

62

QUEER STORIES.

one of the damask satin parlor chairs was speaking in a very polished and dignified way about the grievances of parlor chairs in general.

" close

It's

too bad," said he, " to be always shut up in a

room except when

there's

better-looking chairs than

we

company.

We

are.

perior class of beings,

and

lead so secluded a

when one wants

life

mired.

These cane-seat

wooden

fellows

"

I

belong to a su-

trying to one's nerves to

is

chairs,

be generally ad-

to

and those low, black,

"

trust there will "

chair.

it

There are no

The kitchen

be no personalities," said the easy wooden, but that is not

chairs are

and as to their being black, that's a mere " matter of paint, a mere matter of paint and the easy chair shook his cushioned sides as if he thought this last

their fault

;

;

remark a piece of exquisite pleasantry. "

Damask

say," continued

"

say that these common-place fellows are constantly admitted to the society of the family, and we, genteel as we are, have I

to live secluded.

But

for that

Satin, Esq.,

matter

I

I

should rather be

shut up always than be forced into association with these

common

cane-seat and those low, vulgar,

"Order!"

said

the

easy chair;

wooden

"I must

call

"

Mr.

Satin to order."

"

Why,

one of the cane-seats, "the insolence He's good for nothinsufferable Nobody hkes to use him. He wasn't

sir," said

of that parlor fellow ing but show.

is

!

THE CHAIRS made

IN COUNCIL.

63

any useful purpose. Talk about a thing being Let him have the children make a trying to his nerves Let him have some steamboat of him as they do of me for

!

!

awkward

fellow rack his joints

ing back

against the

wall.

by sitting on him and leanThen let him talk about

hard enough, sir, to have to be used in that fashion without being compelled to associate, as we have nerves

It's

!

with

to,

those low,

wooden

listen

to the abuse of that

dandy

in

"

I

damask

fellows,

and then have

to

pampered, good-for-nothing "

satin, that

" that the debate will trust," said the easy chair,

not proceed in this way. I am sorry that so much discontent is manifested. The life of a chair is certainly not altogether unpleasant

wooden, but as

;

at least

I

have not found

" Sir," said one of the kitchen chairs,

"

was made so

I

;

and

I

know

I

I

it

so."

know

am

I

am

black, but,

you observed awhile ago, that is a question of paint." "A mere question of paint," said the easy chair again,

evidently delighted to have his witticism quoted. " when " But, sir," continued the wooden chair,

new

was not

I

to be

laughed

at.

If

I

was black,

nished brightly and glistened beautifully

maker sun.

set

And

me and my then,

foreheads, and

way,

sir, in

I

sir,

brothers, here, out in a

we each had

assure you

our way.

when

But,

was

was var-

the chair-

row

in the

a large yellow rose on our

we were sir,

I

I

you

beautiful in our talk

a chair not being altogether unpleasant.

about the

Perhaps

own

life

of

not, for

QUEER STORIES.

64

an easy chair, so nicely cushioned as you are. Every time our owner sits down in your arms she says, Well, this is '

most comfortable seat

just the

praises me.

body ever

me

or one of

my

If a

in the

world

neighbor drops

'

But no-

!

in

and takes

fellows, the mistress just says,

'

Don't

take that uncomfortable chair,' and immediately offers

one of these cane-seats. sir

;

That's the

way

and when anybody wants a chair

mistress says,

'

Take

a

wooden

of Johnny's boot nails on

caused by Bridget's using " put the washtub on

one.'

we're insulted,

to stand on, the

Just see the marks

me now, and that scratch, m6 and one of my fellows to

!

The black

chair subsided with the look of an injured

individual, and the high chair commenced to complain, but was interrupted by the sewing chair, who thought that " females had some rights," She was silenced, how-

ever,

my

by

grandmother's old chair, who leaned on the

table while she spoke.

neglect of old age Just at this to a

by moment,

hubbub, and bade

some ward

ously as

library chair

The

old lady complained of the

the younger generation.

began

as the fair to

political

meeting was getting

in-

dissolve as unceremoni-

meetings do,

my

staid

old

to talk, looking very learned at the

same time.

"Mr.

" President," said he,

have taken.

A

chair

is

The

race of chairs

I

regret the turn affairs a

is

an insignia of honor, as

I

very honorable one.

migiit prove

by many

THE CHAIRS

When human

eminent authorities.

some one

IN COUNCIL.

65

beings wish to

move

to the presidency of a meeting, they

the Hon. Jonathan Wire-worker be called to

And then they call him the chair-va-im. honor to be a chair, whether it be a parlor

tJic

Now chair,

call

that

chair.

it

is

an

bottomed

with damask satin, or a hair-seat chair, or a cane-seat chair, a high chair, or a baby's rocking chair, or a super-

annuated chair

bottomed tell

you,

an easy

chair, or a

wooden-

chair, or a learned library chair, like myself. sir, it is

the fact that

"And What

in a garret, or

I

am

now,

an honor to be a chair. a chair.

sir,

we

[Cries of hear

I !

am proud hear

!

I

of

!]

are each adapted to our station.

kind of a kitchen chair would one of these high-

headed, damask satin parlor gentlemen make? How would they stand washtubs and boot heels ? And what sort of a looking parlor chair

Bottom, be?

Even

if

would

my

friend,

Mr.

Wooden

he were new, and covered with

black varnish, and had a yellow rose on his forehead,

would he look among the carpet

"

how

pictures, and on the nice parlor

?

Now

let

us each stick to our several stations, and not

degrade ourselves by learning the evil and discontented human beings, each one of whom thinks his lot

habits of

the hardest."

provoked at this last remark, and was going to get up and dissolve the meeting, but the library chair said something about what a glorious thing it was I felt

a

little

5

QUEER STORIES.

66

and then they all applauded, damask satins, wooden bottoms, and all and then everything was in a

to

be a

chair,

;

Avhirl,

as

it

and

was

I

rubbed

at first,

peeped into the their places as

my

eyes, and the sewing chair sat just

with the pile of magazines on parlor,

stiff"

and the damask

as ever.

their places so quickly

I

How

couldn't

all

they

tell.

I

it,

and

I

were

in

got back

in

satins

went

into the

dining-room and found Allegra perched on the high chair, lashing two of the cane-seat ones that were thrown

down

for horses.

And

I

rubbed

my

eyes again,

I

must have

slept.

WHAT THE TEA-KETTLE BOUT

A -^^^

heve

been

SAID.

the time the chairs had a talk together, I

Well, ever since that time

told you.

afflicted,

now and

the eyes, inclining

them

then, with that to close.

In

I

be-

have

I

same disease of

fact, I

am

rather of

the opinion that the affliction must be one of the ear, too,

hear some curious things while the spell is on. Either that, or else something has "gotten into" the for

I

furniture about

my

house.

beats

It

all,

the time

I

had

It was a cold, wet October day, the wind the other day. whistled through the key-holes and shook the sash vio-

lently,

while the rain drizzled wretchedly against the

glass.

As

there happened to be no

a seat in the kitchen.

There

I

fire

anywhere

else, I

sat in the heat of the

took

cook-

and reading, or trying to read Rollings "Ancient But the book was dull, and the day was dull, History." and it really seemed to me that I was duller than anything

ing-stove,

else.

and

Hannibal and Themistocles, Spain and Carthage,

Rome seemed

to

me

the dullest things in the world.

wondered how people that were so dull had managed to live, and how so stupid a fellow as Monsieur Rollin ever I

QUEER STORIES.

68

contrived to write so big and dull a book. in the rain, too, to

very dull

It

did seem

keep pattering away

at the

glass in that stupid fashion.

And fill

get

so

my

the tea-kettle and set "

" Good dull

leaned back in

I

day

!

said

like the

I

"

it

chair,

and watched Brid-

over the

fire.

Bridget, there's

;

no music on a

cheery singing of the tea-kettle."

And Biddy

laughed, as she went out, and back again, and closed my eyes. All at once keen, piping voice, saying, " Hum hum Simmer !

leaned

I

I

heard a

We'll soon have things a-

!

going."

The sound seemed

come up out of

was so surprised that There was the

I

spout.

to

looked around.

hear no sound from it

Closing

it.

the tea-kettle

eyes and I could but tea-kettle,

I

rubbed

my

my

eyes again,

heard

begin,

"

Simmer, simmer, hum, hum, now

have things

we'll

a-going.

Hot

simmer.

There's nothing like contentment,"

*'

I

But

it's

a

forever.

There's

my

this

Simmer, simmer, hum, hum, it went on.

!

hard to

little

simmer

bright.

fire,

But

sister,

She goes

I

sit

here and simmer, simmer,

keep on singing, and

am happy.

I

Bridget always keeps her

the tea-pot.

into the best society, sits

by

the side

of the china cups on the tea-tray that has flowers painted

on

it

;

vain

little

thing

proud of her graceful

is

waist.

my

sister tea-pot

!

Dreadful

Thinks her crooked nose

is

WHAT THE TEA-KETTLE

am

glad of

the china.

among she be

make

feel proud of her

I

it.

But,

me

la,

didn't help her

if I

She

straight one.

my

prettier than

!

SAID.

is

handsome, and

when

I

fire

I

see her sitting

of what account would

know how they'd What would she be good

I'd like to

?

tea without hot water

!

any how, if I didn't do the drudgery would ruin her complexion

for,

69

This

for her ?

!

"

Whew

The

!

this is

hot work."

tea-kettle's voice

had grown higher and higher,

she was almost shrieking by this time, and so she

until

went on. " But then,

mean

to

don't

mean

keep cheerful.

But

I

the kitchen, always

to be I

proud or envious.

do get

the pots.

among

tired of staying in

I'm a good singer,

my voice, my nose.

and

There are

my

They won't

ac-

but the world don't seem to appreciate '

Chicken " But

'

Little I

cousins, the

knowledge

says that

wish

I

I

sing through

could travel a

little.

family of steam boilers.

their relationship to

I

me any

more.

But what

huge locomotive, with such a horrid voice, that goes puffing and screeching past here every morning ? is

that

What I

he but a great, big, black tea-kettle on wheels wish I was on wheels, and then I could travel, too.

But

is

this old stove

!

won't budge, no matter

how

high

I

get

the steam.

"

they do say the tea-kettle family is much older But wouldn't I like to than the steam boiler family.

And

QUEER STORIES.

70

travel

I

!

wonder

if

I

couldn't start off this old stove. "

Bridget's out, and the master's asleep, and I was just going to tell the kettle I was wide awake, but I didn't feel like talking, and so the kettle went on.

"

Yes,

I

have a good mind to try

Wouldn't

it.

it

be

move the old cooking stove ? Wouldn't Bridget stare, when she came back, if she should see the Home Companion running off down the railroad a brilliant thing,

if I

could

'

'

track

?

"Whew! lid

down

I

so tight

believe

I'll

burst.

can't breathe

I

Bridget's

jammed

the

!

" But I'm going to try to be a locomotive.

Here

goes."

Here the

stopped singing, and the steam poured lid, and the kettle hissed

kettle

out the spout and pushed up the

and

rattled

afraid

was

it

would run

in vain.

kettle

"

and rattled and hissed so that

And

commenced

Well, what

off with the stove. so, as the fire

began

I

really

was

But

all its pufifing

to

go down, the

to sing again.

a fool

I

was

!

" I'm I never shall be anything only a tea-kettle else and so there's the end of it. It's my business to ;

;

stay here and do

my

duty

in

the kitchen.

industrious, cheerful tea-kettle

I

suppose an

just as useful in

its

place

steam engine yes, and just as happy, too. And if must stay in this kitchen among the pots the rest of my

as a I

is

;

WHAT THE TEA-KETTLE days,

I

mean

kitchen in

all

to

do

my

share to

tea-kettle died

eyes. " Tea

it

the cheerfulest

down

to a plain-

heard Sunbeam say, " He's She always thinks I'm asleep when I rest my

simmer, simmer, and

asleep."

make

71

the country."

Here the voice of the tive

SAID.

is

I

ready," said three of them, at once.

CROOKED GRIP

was a queer

JACK.

Queer because he never got enough money, and yet never seemed to know the right use of money. His family had the bare fellow.

JACK

life, but his wife was a drudge, and his children had neither books nor pictures, nor any of those other things so necessary to the right education of chil-

comforts of

Jack was yet young, but he was in great danger of becoming a miser. The truth was, he had made up dren.

took him some time to make up his mind to be dishonest, but he was in a hurry to be

mind

his

and

rich,

to get rich.

lately

It

he had been what

his neighbors called

he was selling his conscience for gold, but gold could never buy it back.

"slippery"

On

Poor Jack

in his dealings.

a certain night in

November, the night

story begins. Jack was not at ease. that he

had made money.

He was

but something troubled him.

was

!

that

my

His accounts showed getting rich very

Shall

I

tell

fast,

you what

it

?

Just next to Jack's farm was a perfect beauty of a

little

on which lived the Widow Lundy. Her husband had bought the farm, and borrowed money of Jack Grip

place,

CROOKED JACK. to

pay

for

It

it.

73

was about half paid for when poor by a falling tree. There was some

Lundy was killed money due him, and he had a little property besides, so that the widow sent word to Mr. Grip that if he would only wait

till

she could get her means together, she would

But times were hard, and Jack make two thousand dollars by forcing the

pay up the remainder. saw a chance

to

farm and buying it himself. It just fitted on to his lower field. It went hard to turn the widow out, sale of the

made up his mind that he would be rich. make it seem right, but he couldn't. He had

but Jack Grip

He

tried to

forced the sale less

than

it

;

he had bought the place for two thousand

was worth.

The widow was little left,

Poor

and

little

it

to

move

She had

the next morning.

was a sad night

in the small

brown house.

Jane, only ten years old, cried herself to sleep,

to think she

must leave her home, and Harry was to go mother found some way of

to live with an aunt until his

making a living. Poor Jack could not

sleep

and dare not pray.

He

" devourkept thinking of something in the Bible about

He

ing widows' houses."

could not forget the face of an

Quaker who had met him on the road that day and said: "Friend Jack, thy ways are crooked before the Lord " " Maybe they are," said Jack, " but my money old

!

is

as straight as anybody's,

nearer straight than

it

and

my

was before

I

farm

is

a

good deal

bought the

Lundy

QUEER STORIES.

74

Jack could not sleep, however, for thinking of He tried to think the old Quaker and his solemn words. place."

that his possessions were straight

When

he did

he dreamed he was the young ruler that gave up money then he was the rich

sleep,

Christ for the sake of his

man

anyhow.

At

in torment.

last

the sun was shining in at

;

he opened his eyes, and though the windows, he thought things

bedstead.

The chairs were crooked, so was the The window was crooked, the whole house

seemed

be crooked.

looked curious.

to

old and

Jack got up, and found he was The cat and dog on the himself.

crooked

crooked hearth were crooked.

house but Jack.

He

took his

out through the crooked door,

among

There was nobody in the crooked stick, and went

down

the crooked walk,

the crooked trees, along the wall into the crooked

cemetery, where were crooked graves with the names of As crooked Jack, with his wife and children over them.

by his crooked dog, took his crooked way back, he met the old Quaker, who said

his

crooked

stick, followed

" Friend He Jack, thy ways are very crooked." went in at a crooked gate, and up the crooked walk again

:

among the crooked trees, in at the crooked door, and sat down on the crooked chair by the crooked hearth. The crooked dog lay down by him, and the crooked cat mewed.

He opened

gold coins were " a crooked old

all

crooked money-box and the " Here I said crooked.

man

his

am,"

in a

Jack,

crooked old house, with no

CROOKED JACK. friends but this crooked old

What

is all

my

75

dog and crooked

crooked money worth

?

old cat.

What crooked

ways I took to get it." Crooked old Jack felt sick and lay down upon his crooked old bed. Somehow, his crooked old money-box Then got upon his breast and seemed to smother him. crooked account-books piled themselves upon him,

his

and

it

seemed impossible

for

him

He

to breathe.

tried

and the only answer he received was a low growl from the crooked old Then the crooked old cat mewed. dog. to call out, but his voice died to a whisper,

Just then Jack Grip awoke, and found that a crooked

dream

;

but the perspiration stood

all

in

this

was

beads on

brow, and though it was broad daylight, and his wife and children were about him, Jack thought things were indeed crooked. In the first place. Jack was sure that his

his

farm was crooked, for his new addition was

than stolen.

made

it

His

a pleasant

home was home.

little

better

crooked, for he had not

His children were crooked, for

he was not educating them right. And then, at bottom, he knew that his own heart was the crookedest thing of all.

The Lundys were

all

packed ready to start that But a messenger from tears.

morning. Bitter were their Mr. Grip brought them a deed to their farm, and a note, saying that, as some amend for the trouble he had given

them, Mrs. Lundy would please accept the amount due on the farm as a present.

still

^6

QUEER STORIES.

There are many crooked people in the world some When you get to be a in one way, some in another. crooked old man, or a crooked old woman, will your life ;

look crooked to you as crooked Jack's did to him

?

THE FUNNY LITTLE OLD WOMAN. T ITTLE -*

'

two

if

too, as

any thing went at all wrong, she would go wrong, if it would do any good to do wrong. Some peo-

crooked themselves. a few big ones, that

straightening a is

mend crooked

There are some

seem

seam that

things

by getting

little girls,

to think the quickest

is

puckered

way

of

pucker a face

to

is

and not

straight.

Sometimes her if

pretty as any

might want. But Tilda Tulip tilted her on a moment's notice. If any thing and things had a way of going wrong with

ple are always trying to

that

lips as

lips into a pout,

went wrong her

Tilda Tulip had two

little girl

friends

would ask what she would do

her face were to freeze in frowns, but her Uncle John

used to say that she was always too hot to freeze. One evening she came to Uncle John with the usual frown,

showing him her new brocade away carelessly, and it was all

She had put

doll dress. in

"

it

beggars' presses."

"dear me! I "Just see, Uncle John," she whined never get any thing nice that it isn't spoiled somehow or other. Isn't that too bad ? This dress has been wrinkled ;

week, and now it will never come smooth at all." " That's " but there bad, surely," said Uncle John,

for a

is

QUEER

78

something more than finer than that " presses.'

that

is

"

Why,

STORIES,

that.

I

brocade

no, Uncle John,

I

know something

silk,

that

is all

in

of yours

'

beggars'

haven't any thing so fine as

you know, and now this is all puckered and wrinkled " and krinkled, and what will I do ? " Do " Give me your hand," said Uncle John. you

this,

see that skin

?

chubby cheeks

There

no

is

silk so fine as that.

are covered with a skin that

is finer.

These But

puckered about your eyes and of your mouth, you have the corner and forehead your kept it puckered and wrinkled and krinkled as you say,

you have kept

till I

am

afraid

this skin

it

will

never be straight.

hot iron would smoothe

Now

it.

Do you

I

don't think a

" ?

Uncle John spoke very kindly, indeed.

were no

wrinkles

wrinkles in their words. kindness, naughty

little

Some

people have But notwithstanding her uncle's

his

in

There

voice.

Tilda Tulip went off in a pout, was " real mean. He

and declared that Uncle John never

And

feels

sorry for a

body when they

are in trouble."

so she wrinkled her voice into a whine, and wrinkled

and puckered her face up most frightfully. At last, tired of teasing and talking and troubling, Tilda Tulip tumbled into her trundle-bed and was tucked

Everybody was glad when she went to sleep. Everybody dreaded the time when she should wake up. She was a good girl when she was asleep.

tightly

in.

*

THE FUNNY LITTLE OLD WOMAN. She dreamed.

It

was a funny dream.

I

79 think she

must have remembered what Uncle John said, for she thought she saw a funny Hitle old house, by a funny little old

hill,

came

near a funny

a funny

little

little

old

old bridge.

woman, with

Out

of this house

a funny

little

old

bonnet, carrying a funny little with a funny little old cane in

old bag on her back, and Her face was her hand.

wrinkled and cross

all

wrinkled

over,

and she stooped

But she tossed her funny little old bag on to dreadfully. the back of a funny little old donkey, and climbed up her-

Then she was

self.

cross with the funny

little

old bag,

and mad with the funny little old donkey, and she beat him with a funny little old stick, and scolded and scolded with a funny

little

old cracked, quivering, peevish, hateful

voice.

And

So Tilda followed her as she rode, and all the rude " There goes the funny boys along the road cried out, little

old

woman and

her donkey

" !

And

a beautiful lady

came along, and when she met the funny Httle old woman, " O she sat down on a stone and wept, and said, Miriam, "

But the funny little old woman only And Tilda beat her donkey and scolded more than ever. wondered why the beautiful woman called the funny little

my

old

daughter

woman

!

her daughter.

And

Tilda dreamed that

many

days passed, and that every day the funny little old woman rode on the funny little old donkey to the city. And every day the beautiful woman wept and said, " O

QUEER STORIES.

80

"

my

Miriam, beautiful

daughter

!

One day

woman and spoke

"Why

do you

call

to her.

that

daughter ? " Because she is my daughter." " But she is so much older than said the beautiful

the history of the funny

donkey is

to

not old

;

little

hateful,

funny,

old

"

woman your

"Why,"

Tilda approached the

little

town every day but she was a

?

are."

you

woman,

" don't you

old

woman

She

is

my

pouted, and scolded and screamed. I do not to wrinkle.

brow began

that rides her

She

daughter.

She

cross child.

know

fretted

She frowned

know whether

till

and her

a fairy

enchanted her or not, but when she became angry there was one wrinkle that could not be removed. The next

When

time she was mad, another wrinkle remained.

she

found that the wrinkles would not come out she became

mad

at that,

sion there

and of course, every time she got

came

other wrinkles.

Her once

grew worse.

beautiful voice

The

like a

cracked

face

then they grew crosswise

;

tin

began

to

sound

wrinkles soon covered her ;

you see

it is all

in

beggars'

She got old she shrivelled up she stooped She became so cross that she spends most of her

presses.

over.

horn.

into a pas-

Then, too, her temper

;

;

little old house, to keep away from the must have something to do, and so she She She then gets angry at the stones and breaks them up. carries them to the city and throws them into the river.

time

in that

rest of us.

funny

THE FUNNY LITTLE OLD WOMAN.

81

She must have something to beat, and so we let her have poor donkey, whose skin is thick. She beats him,

this

and thus people are saved from her ravings. I do not know whether she will ever come to her senses or not.

O

Miriam,

At

last

my

"

daughter

!

Tilda dreamed that the funny, wrinkled, cross,

woman, got down one day off her donkey, poured the stones out of the bag, and came and sat down by the beautiful lady. Then the funny little old woman old

little

She put her head

cried.

and

said,

away

"

O

mother,

in the lap of the beautiful lady,

how

shall I

get these wrinkles

!

And

the beautiful lady kissed her and said,

"

Ah my !

but cast out the bitterness from your heart, as you poured the stones from the bag, I shall not daughter,

if

you

will

care for the wrinkles

" ?

the funny little old woman the and donkey. Then she saw her carfeeding petting rying food to a poor widow. And every time the funny

The next day Tilda saw

little

woman did a kind act there was one wrinkle less And then she went into a hospital, and she face.

old

on her

was so kind to the sick that they old

woman.

And

still

all

loved the funny

the wrinkles

grew fewer, and the

form grew straighter, and the face grew fresher, people is

little

until all the

"Our funny little old woman And younger and still younger."

in the hospital said,

getting she became, until the beautiful lady kissed her younger really

QUEER STORIES.

82

Miriam again, and the music came back

beautiful

And

voice once more. that

Miriam looked

seemed

like her

and found

dream

in

it

Tilda Tulip thought in her dream

like herself,

own mother.

morning,

for she

and that the beautiful lady

And

then she waked up

had dreamed

all this

long

one night.

And when

she was about to

fly into

a passion with her

stockings, in dressing, the thought of the funny

woman and

When

into her

her face

in

little

beggars' presses kept her from

she was dressed she told uncle Jack

all

old it.

about the

dream, and he smiled.

"Suppose you

woman

did,

try the plan that the funny

and see

if

you

wrinkles," he said to Tilda.

can't get rid of

little

some

old

of your

WIDOW

WIDOW

WONDERFUL

WIGGINS'

WIGGINS

was a wee, wiry, weird woman, a very wonderful cat, in-

with a wonderful cat

deed haps

The neighbors

!

was

it

;

I

don't

CAT.

all

know

said ;

it

was bewitched.

Per-

but a very wonderful cat

it

It had a strange way of knowing, when people were talking, whether what they said was right or wrong. If people said what they ought not to say, wee Widow Wiggins' wonderful cat would mew. Perhaps the cat had

was.

lived so long with the wee, wiry, weird

who was

widow woman,

one of the best in the world, that

her dislike to things that were wrong.

widow's neighbors were afraid of that

cat.

had gotten But the wee it

When

Mrs.

vixenish

a

virago, very vile, vinegar-tongued, abused her neighbors to the wee, wiry, weird, widow

Vine,

woman,

the

And so the And when

vile,

slender, slim, slippery Sly Slick, Esq., tried

lo persuade the

mewed like the

Wiggins' wonderful cat would mew. vixenish virago wished the cat was dead.

Widow

widow

furiously.

to swindle her neighbor, the cat

And

so

it

came

wee widow's wonderful

was a nuisance.

And

that Mr. Slick did not

cat.

In fact, he said

it

Tilda Tattle, the tiresome-tongued,

QUEER STORIES.

84

town

mewed

all

And his

could not abide the cat, because the time she was tattling.

tale-bearer,

it

happened that good Deacon Pettibone, and who was even better than the deacon, were

so

wife,

it

about the only visitors the wee, weird Widow Wiggins had. As the deacon never said any harm of anybody, and as the deacon's wife never thought any harm, and as

wee widow woman never

the lie

any harm, the

felt

stretched out on the hearth

cat

would

day while these three

all

people talked.

good But though the deacon was good, and his wife was better, j-et the deacon's oldest son was not the boy he ought to have been. Somehow or other, as it will happen sometimes, he listened to everybody but his father

and

his mother.

Bad company

the deacon did not suspect

led

him

;

him

but

At

astray.

first

when he showed

signs of having been drinking, the deacon was very severe. 1

am

afraid there

father's severity.

told that

Tom

if

had

was not enough of kindness

At any

rate, after

awhile,

in the

Tom

was

he repeated the offence he must go from home. The deacon felt got to be a hard boy.

But when a boy shows that he is not overcome temptation while he is at home, I am

greatly provoked. able to

not sure that he will be any better I

don't think that helps

it.

But

if

he

Tom

sent

by himself. was bad, and so he is

had no right to complain. He yielded to temptation, and was sent away, his father telling him that he should never

WIDOW come back

WIGGINS'

WONDERFUL

CAT.

85

Deacon Pettibone thought he was do-

again.

am

was angry. Well, when Tom got away he did not get any better. He went down faster. At last his health broke down.

ing right, but

He

I

afraid he

thought of home as he walked around hardly able to But the deacon would not ask him back, nor

stand up.

would he encourage him even by a kind look

to ask to be

taken back again. The deacon's wife tried to persuade him. She cried. But the deacon said he must not break his

His wife told him that a rash word ought to be it did others harm. The deacon's wife grew

word.

broken where sick,

and the

vinegar-tongued, vixenish virago said

vile,

that the deacon

was an old brute.

The

tattling, tiresome-

tongued, town tale-bearer talked about a good things that she might say,

if

she wanted

to,

many

and she did

say that the deacon and his wife did not get on like angels.

But the wee, wiry, weird

wearily by

Widow Wiggins watched And

the bedside of the sick Mrs. Pettibone.

still Deacon Pettibone refused to break his word, though he was breaking his wife's heart, and breaking God's command, and ruining his son.

At

mother, longing for her son, thought of a plan by which to bring her husband to reason. " Fetch your cat over the next time you come," she last the sick

said to the wee, wiry,

And

so

when

widow woman.

the wee, weird

Widow Wiggins came

again, the wonderful cat followed her and lay

down by

86

QUEER Soon

the stove.

"

you

"No,

deacon came

after the

sad but very stern. " Did see Tom

STORIES.

looking very

asked his wife.

?

didn't," said the deacon,

I

in,

"and

I

don't want

to."

"

Mew!

"

said the cat.

The deacon face

but he went on talking.

;

"

noticed the cat, and got a Httle red in the

I

tell

you what,

he must lie on it, " Mew mew !

"

I

can't

wife,

that's all " !

break

Tom

his

bed and

!

mew my word anyhow

come back, and he

made

has

"

!

shan't

;

so

now

I

;

said he shouldn't

there's

no use

in pin-

ing yourself to death over a scapegrace."

"

Mew

!

mew

!

mew

!

m-e-e-o-w

" !

shrieked the cat,

with every bristle on end, and her claws scratching the floor.

" Mrs. Wiggins,

wish you would keep that miserable cat at home," said the deacon and so the wee I

;

widow woman took up

the wonderful cat and carried

it

home. That night he thought he could hear that cat mewing at him all the time. He remembered that he had not seen Tom for But the poor deacon couldn't

some

days.

The deacon

What

if

he_was dying

rest.

?

It

was a long

night.

got to thinking of the touching and wonderful Parable of the Prodigal. And then in the stillat

last

WIDOW

WIGGINS'

ness he thought he could

WONDERFUL

hear something

mewing at him. At last daylight came, and he hastened a wretched garret racked with disease.

home

tenderly, and

his soul.

Tom

CAT.

in

8/

his

to find

He

got well both in his

heart

Tom

in

brought him body and in

The Chicken

Little

Stories.

SIMON AND THE GARULY. /~^ HICKEN ^~^

LITTLE

fixed herself

ing-chair, set her

mouth

up

in

her

new

in a

rock-

fashion,

very prim leaned her head on one side, and began to rock with her might, jerking her feet from the floor every time. " I " I yish," she began, yish somebody yould

some

stories yat

And

yould be

having made

little

me

for

this speech,

all

tell

to hear."

which was meant

as a

hint for me, she rocked harder than ever, nearly upsetting herself

"

two or three times.

What

shall

it

be about

" ?

I

said.

" 'Bout some naughty boy or 'nother." She likes to hear of naughty boys, but not of naughty girls.

sonal.

She thinks

And

stories of

naughty

girls are

a

little

per-

so, with her chair going and her shining eyes

peering out from under her overhanging forehead,

I

began

THE STORY. Simon was

a selfish

fellow.

He was

always willing

anybody should divide good things with him, but was never willing, himself, to divide with anybody else.

He

was never willing to play with others, for fear he would not be treated right. His two brothers and his

QUEER STORIES.

92

sister

had

their playthings together, but

Simon would not

play with them, for fear he should not get his rights in all for himthings, and so he took his little stock and set up

His brothers and

self.

sister,

many more

together, had

of course,

than he.

by putting

Then,

too,

theirs

by work-

nice things.

up many managed But poor Simon had nobody to help him, and nobody to He So he came to feel very bad. play with him. to fix

ing together, they

thought everybody was angry with him.

One sunny

when

afternoon,

the other children were

laughing and shouting merrily, poor Simon tried to

be happy by himself.

Something

in

in his throat

vain

kept

choking him. I

("

guess

it

was the cry that choked him," broke in " I had a cry in my throat yester-

the Small Chicken. It

day. death,

was bigger than

till I

my

fist,

and most choked

me

to

let it

out") was what hurt him, and presently he let it Then graduas you say, and had a good, hard cry. he went off into a sort of doze. Soon he felt some-

Yes, that out, ally

thing strike him on the head.

"

Wake up

!

wake up

" !

and saw a funny, little, old man standing over him, who kept one of his eyes shut all the time, and looked out of the other with the queerest

Simon opened

his eyes,

twinkle in the world.

He had

a knotty stick in his hand,

and was tapping Simon over the head with

it.

SIMON AND THE GARULY.

93

What do you want ? " growled Simon. With that the old man hit him another "

over the head. " Get up," he said, "-and

sharp blow

come with me, and

will

I

show you where I live. I am one of the Garulies." Simon got to his feet, partly because he was afraid of another blow from the cudgel, and partly because he had a very great desire to

know something

of the Garulies.

"Come man,

as

along! come along!" said he gave Simon another tap.

the queer

little

He

took the road through the woods pasture, down under Swallow Hill, and then through the blackberry " Bee Tree patch, until they came to the brook known as Run." Here, just at the foot of a large sycamore, and

among

its

roots,

large turtle shell

"

" if I

Get I

in

am

was fastened a curious boat, made of a turned upside down.

get in

!

"

squealed the

!

too large," said

Simon

;

little

old Garuly.

"that

craft will sink

step in."

In an instant the three

little

man

whirled round and hit him

tremendous raps over the head with

shouting, or rather squeaking, " Smaller smaller smaller !

!

his cudgel,

" !

The blows made Simon's head

ring,

but when he

re-

covered himself, he found that the turtle-shell boat appeared a great deal larger than before. Not only that, but every thing about him appeared larger.

He

soon

9

QUEER

94

STORIES.

discovered, however, that he was smaller, and that that

For you know

was what made other things seem larger. we measure everything by ourselves. ("

Mamma doesn't,"

said the Chicken

" ;

she measures

with a yard-stick.")

Simon prided himself on being so big, and it to him to find himself suddenly become small that a large rooster could have looked down upon Well,

was not pleasant so

But he did not say any thing,

him.

for fear of old

Ga-

ruly's stick, but just got into the boat as soon as possible. The old man got in, too, and they were soon floating

down

The brook seemed

the stream.

like a river,

and

the grass upon the banks was like trees, to Simon, now.

The old Garuly guided the boat over the rapids, that seemed frightful to Simon, and floated it down to where the cliffs were steep, and presently came to a place where the water runs under a large rock. The old man steered the queer craft into this dark, cave-like place, and shot up to a shelving landing-place. **

Get out

Simon "

Go

in the

"

in

" !

he squeaked.

did as he was !

go

in

" !

commanded.

cried the Garuly, pointing to a hole

cliff.

I

am

too large," said Simon.

And immediately the old man struck him over the head three times, as before, crying, "Smaller! smaller! smaller!"

SIMON AND THE GARULY.

95

Simon now found himself not more than as

He went

he was before.

also

grown

ber, all full of beautiful shells

furniture.

The

with the Garuly,

who had

Inside there was the daintiest cham-

smaller.

floor

and the room was

in

half as large

lit

wrought

was paved up by

three

into tiny articles of

with

shining pebbles,

fire-flies

and two glow-

worms. " How could you make the place so beautiful Simon.

" ?

cried

" The Garulies work together," said the old man, sharply.

The

little

door, but

man

Simon

told

Simon was

still

to

go

in

too large for

through another that, and so the

Garuly again pounded him, crying, " " Smaller smaller smaller !

!

Once

in,

Simon saw indeed

!

the treasures of the Ga-

There were easy-chairs, made of the ruly's household. hulls of hickory- nuts hammocks, made of the inside bark ;

of the

paw-paw

;

wash-bowls, curiously carved from the

hulls of beech-nuts

;

of the silver poplar.

and beautiful curtains, of the leaves The floor was paved with the seeds

of the wild grape, and beautifully carpeted with the

ens from the beech

made

and maple

trees.

of a great variety of mosses,

made

ures.

The beds were

woven together with

the utmost delicacy of workmanship.

tub

lich-

There was a bath-

of a mussel- shellj cut into beautiful

cameo

fig-

QUEER STORIES.

96 "

How

wonderful

"

cried Simon, clapping his hands. " " The Garulies work said the old man, together !

!

more decidedly than before. Simon noticed that his own voice was beginning to squeak like that of the old Garuly himself. But after seeing the interior of his dwelling, he would not have

minded being changed into a Garuly. The old man was now leading him out through a different entrance. Then along a path they went until they

came

to a fence, the rails of

which seemed to Simon to be

They crawled through the fence, and found themselves in a farm-yard. The chickens seemed

larger than logs.

to be larger than those great creatures that geologists say

once lived on the earth, and that were as high as a house. The bees seemed to Presently they came to a bee-stand.

Simon

to

be of immense

size,

and he was greatly

afraid

;

but the old Garuly spoke to the fierce-looking sentinel bee that stood by the door and shook one of his antennae in a friendly

way.

("His Aunt Annie?" " do you mean?

said Chicken Little.

" His antennae are his feelers, the

little

"What

hair-like things

that stand out from his head.")

Now the let

bees seemed to know the Garuly, and so they him pass in. But poor Simon had to be pounded

When again before he was small enough to go in. so small he got in, he saw a world of beauty. Being down

SIMON AND THE GARULY.

9/

and so near to the bees, he could see how beautiful their eyes were, made up of hundreds of little eyes, with little hairs growing out between them. And then, himself,

honey-comb seemed like Each well seemed

too, the full

of honey.

great, golden wells, as large as a barrel.

They climbed up along the sides of the combs, and saw some bees feeding the young, some building cells, some bringing in honey, some feeding the queen bee, some clearing out the waste matter, and others standing guard.

They

all

seemed

cheerful. "

" No piped the old man. bee is selfish. These bees will not live to eat this honey. Bees that work hard in summer only live to be about two **

Bees

months

all

work together

This honey

old.

how happy they all are. those who work together

!

is

stored for others.

How much may

But see

be done by

cheerfully."

Out of the hive they went, and back toward the GaBut the old man turned aside to go to an

ruly's house. ant-hill.

" Let's go in here," said the Garuly. " said Simon. I am too

No,

large,"

" Smaller

!

smaller

ing him over the head larger than the ants,

!

smaller

" !

again, until

cried the Garuly, beat-

Simon was not much

and the ants appeared

to

be as large

Down the well-like hole they climbed, until Here all were entered the chambers of the ants. they busy, some carrying out earth, others excavating new as ponies.

7

QUEER

98

STORIES.

chambers, others caring for the eggs, others bringing in But no food, while others were clearing out the road. none said had the heaviest load. that he one grumbled, " the little ants work to" See " cried the Garuly,

!

They have

gether.

all

things in

common.

There

is

no

and no quarrelling among them." Just then a wise old ant came up, and hearing the

selfishness

Garuly's remark, he said, ''Did you never hear the

''STORY OF THE SELFISH ANT?

"There was once satisfied.

who

who

always thought he had the hardest work in If he carried burdens, he complained that

cared for the eggs had the easiest time

he had charge of the eggs, he wished

some other kind of work. set

up

to dig

for himself.

and

find his

summer was gone a sorry place rain filled

month

could never be

He

the world.

those

a selfish ant

it

up

It

last

to

and

if

be changed to

he thought he would

was exceedingly hard work

own food with no

for

him

help, so that half the

before he got a place to live

in,

and

Before he got any food laid by, the

was.

his house,

in digging.

At

;

And

and he had to spend another so, with one mishap and another,

and no one to help him, the summer was soon almost gone, and he had no store for winter. When the first frost

came, the

crestfallen,

selfish

fellow

came back, heartbroken and

and begged to be taken into the colony again.

SIMON AND THE GARULY.

99

All winter long he had to eat the bread that others had

gathered, and he never afterward grumbled because his work was a little harder than that of others."

"

You see," What

said the Garuly, "that the ants

shame

work

to-

you should not be able " even to play with your brothers and sister And with that the little old man turned his one eye on gether.

a

is

it

that

!

Simon, and

who what "

it

shone

like a coal of fire,

and Simon thought

Just then an ant came up, had heard the conversation, and asked the Garuly

he could

it

feel

it

burning him.

meant.

He

will

not even play with his brothers," said the

old man, looking fiercer than ever.

" Put him out " cried the ant. And then a hundred " " and they began tugging at ants cried, put him out him with all their might. One caught hold of his right !

!

one took him by the arm and another by the head, and as they were nearly as big as he was, they were about to carry him off bodily, when Simon foot

and another of

his left,

suddenly awoke, and started up, to find that instead of the ants tugging at him, it was the other children, who

had come sleeping

in

to

awaken him,

was the one

fiery

for fear

he would catch cold

what he thought eye of the Garuly, was the full moon

the night

air,

and

to find that

shining through the trees.

"

Thsre," said the

Wee

Chick,

" that spoils the story.

QUEER

lOO

I

don't want

up

so twick

it

to

STORIES.

be a dream.

What made

'em yake him

" ?

"

Was

"

Yes, for the

he better afterward?

"

said Fairy.

very next day he moved to the same playhouse with the rest of the children, and whenever he was selfish he would look around to see if the old Garuly

was looking

at

him out of one eye."

THE

TTZE '

^

JOBLILIES.

have oak trees and green grass

what many children

Three

Httle girls love to

crowded

in

play in the

at our house,

cities

do not

get.

green grass, with some

pet chickens, and a white, pink-eyed rabbit for compan-

Now, you must know

ions.

that

I

am

quite as fond of

the oaks and the grass and the blue sky as Sunbeam, or Fairy, or the brown-faced Little Chick.

when

pens,

the day

keep the house

cool,

And

so

it

hap-

hot, and the lazy breezes will not that I just move my chair and table

is

out by the lilac-bush that grows under the twin oaks, and

then

I

think

watch the

I

trains

can write better.

And

coming and going

to

there

I

sit

and

and from the great,

bustling city, only a dozen miles away, or listen to the

singing of the robins while I

write

was ;

1

write.

sitting thus one dull, hot afternoon, trying to

but

to sing, the

it

was a lazy day

little

;

the robins had forgotten

sparrows that live up in the oaks had

stopped twittering, and the very honey bees were humming drowsily, when Chicken Little came up with a

wreath of white clover around her head, and begged for a story. The older children wanted one, also, and so I

QUEER STORIES.

I02

had to self,

To

one.

tell

and so

was a

tell tlie truth, I

willingly sat

I

down

little

in the grass

lazy

my-

among

the

children and began.

" Shall

"

No,

"

she said

sir,"

about as big as Chicken

;

tell

about a lazy boy that was

Sunbeam."

as big as

Sunbeam laughed to

girl

asked.

I

?

about a lazy

I tell

"

Little

and nodded her head

at this,

for

me

on.

go

" Little began thus Lazy Larkin laughed and leaped, or longed and lounged the livelong day, and

And

so

I

:

loved not labor, but liked leisure." " " Ha ha cried the Wee Chick !

!

;

" that sounds so

"

funny "

!

It's

" Tell "

got so

many

Well, then,"

nile,

I

" Larkin was an indolent juve-

know what you mean

" !

said

Fairy, just

to get angry.

" Sech awful

"they

beam

said,

-"

don't

I

ready

"

that's the reason," said Fairy.

Sunbeam.

fond of mirthfulness and cachinatory and saltatory

exercises

"

I's,

right," said

it

is

I

;

And

big words

as big

" !

guess that's what they " now do tell it

the Little

cried

as big as punkins call

Pullet

;

!

hifalutin," said

Sun-

right."

so

I

told

it

Larkin was an

" right." idle fellow,

and was so utterly good-

'

THE for-nothing, that he is

came

JOBLILIES.

103

to be called "

Lazy Larkin.'' It bad name when you are young. sand burr. Larkin would neither

a dreadful thing to get a

It sticks to

like a

you

He

work nor study. for

did not even like good, hearty play,

any great length of time, but was very fond of the play

that boys call imcnible-tJie-peg, because, as he said,

could

sit

down

to play

did not bite at the

fish

He

it.

first

fished a

place, he sat

but

little,

down

;

you

if

the

he would

not move, but just sat and w^aited for them to come to

him.

He had gone

out to Bass Lake to

fish,

one day,

in

company with some other boys, but they had put him out of the boat because he was too lazy to row when his turn The

came. erel,

others were rowing about, trolling for pick-

and he

sat

down on

Point," and went to

he sat looking

at

a point of land called "

As

fishing.

them

in

Duck

the fish would not bite,

the clear water, and wishing

that he was a fish they had such a lazy time of it, lying there in the sun, or paddling idly around through the He saw a large pickerel lying perfectly still over water. a certain spot near the shore.

the pickerel,

it

When

other fish

darted out and drove them

off,

came near and then

paddled back to the same place again. Larkin dropped his bait near by, but the fish paid no attention to it, and, indeed, seemed to have nothing to do but to

same "

lie still in

the

place. I

wish

I

were a pickerel," said the lazy fellow

;

"I

QUEER STORIES.

104

wouldn't have to carry

in

wood

or pull weeds out of the

garden, or feed the chickens, or get the multiplication or do anything else;" and he gave one vast table, or

yawn, stretching so long, that

it

"

Ha

!

ha

mouth

really

so wide, and keeping

seemed

When

together again. for the fellow

his

it

as

if

it

open

he never would get

did shut, his eyes shut with

it it,

was too lazy to hold them open. !

lazy fellow

!

lazy fellow

Larkin heard some one say

" !

and raised up his finding any one about, he thought he must have been dreaming. So he just gave one more yawn, opening his mouth like the lid of an old head to see who

it

was.

this,

Not

and keeping it open nearly a minute. he stretched himself upon the grass again. " " Ha ha fellow fellow

tin coffee-pot,

!

!

lazy

!

lazy

Then

!

This time there seemed to be half a dozen voices, but

Larkin felt too lazy to look up. " " Ha ha very lazy fellow Larkin just got one eye open a !

around

!

!

to see

little,

where the sound came from.

and looked

After a while,

he saw a dozen or more very odd, queer-looking creatures, sitting on the broad, round leaves of the waterlilies,

that floated on the surface of the lake.

These

little

people had white caps, for all the world like the white lily blossoms that were bobbing up and down around

them.

In

fact, it

clearly that they

took Larkin some time to make out

were not

lilies.

But

finally

he saw their

THE

JOBLILIES.

105

peeping out, and noticed that they had no hands, Then he noticed that their coats fins instead.

faces

but only

were beautifully mottled, like the sides of the pickerel, and their feet flattened out, like a fish's tail. Soon he

same kind were coming up, all dripping, from the water, and taking their places on the and as each new-comer arrived, the others kept leaves

saw

that others of the

;

saying,

"

Ha ha And then !

!

"

very lazy fellow the others would look at him, and shake lazy fellow

!

!

their speckled sides with laughter,

ha

ha

!

!

!

Poor Larkin was used

to being laughed at, but

provoking to be laughed at sitting

and say, "Lazy fellow

"

on the

lilies in

by

the water.

it

was

these queer-looking folk,

Soon he saw

that there

were nearly a hundred of them gathered. " " Come cried one of them, who caron, Joblilies ried along fish-bone, and seemed to be leader; "let's !

make

a Joblily of him."

Upon The

that the

whole swarm of them came ashore.

leader stuck his fish-bone in Larkin, and

made him

cry out. Then they all set up another laugh, and another " " cry of lazy fellow " Bring me three grains of silver- white sand from the !

middle of the lake," said the leader

jumped "

into the water

Now

;

and two of them

and disappeared.

fetch three blades of dry grass from the lining

QUEER STORIES.

I06

of the kingfisher's nest," he said

;

and immediately two

others were gone.

When

the four returned, the leader dropped the grains

of sand in Larkin's eyes, saying,

" Three grains of silver sand, From the Joblily's hand Where shall the Joblily lie, !

When

the

young owl learns

to fly

?

"

Then they all jumped upon him and stamped, but LarIn fact, he found that kin could not move hand or foot. The leader then his hands were flattening out, like fins. put the three blades of grass in Larkin's mouth, and " Eat a dry blade

!

eat a dry blade

From What

the nest that the kingfisher will the Joblilies do,

When

the old owl cries tu-whoo

?

said,

!

made

!

"

then the whole party set up such a cry of " tu-

And

"

Larkin was frightened beyond and they caught him and rolled him over measure rapidly, until he found himself falling with a great splash

whoo

!

tu-whoo

!

that

;

into the water.

was changed

Then "

On

he saw that he

rising to the surface,

into a Joblily himself.

the whole party broke out singing,

When When When

the sun shines the Joblilies roam ; the storm comes we play with the the owl hoots Joblilies

fly

home

" !

foam

;

THE

When

JOBLILIES.

they had sung

lO/

they all went under the water and the leader, giving Larkin a thrust with his " " Come and Lazy Larkin fish-bone, cried out, along this,

;

!

had nothing to do but to swim after them. Once under the water, the scene was exceedingly beautiful. The leaves

great umbrella-like

of the

lilies

made

spots of

shadow

in the water and on the pebbles of the bottom, while the streaks of sunshine that came down between

flecked everything with patches of glorious light, just as

and valleys made glorious by alternate patches of light and shade, produced by the shadows of the clouds. And the tall lily stems, in the

you have seen the

soft light,

hills

appeared to be

of water weed, that

while the great variety

pillars,

wound about them

was glorious beyond description.

in

strange festoons,

There were beautiful

bass turning their sides up to the sun, and darting about

through these strange, weird scenes, seeming to enjoy their glorious abode.

"You kin, to

"

of

it,

have an easy time of

one of these

Easy time of because

Joblily

if

it,

indeed

!

I

have rather a happy time but you are a strange

have plenty to do you do not know that

easy time of

I

it.

no doubt," said Lar-

it,

fish.

;

I

have anything but an

Chasing minnows, jumping three

out of water after a butterfly, catching

mosquitoes, and keeping a sharp lookout

grasshoppers that

may

chance to

fall

in

feet

wigglers and for

my way

;

unlucky all

these

QUEER STORIES.

I08

are not easy.

you, there

I tell

position that has

more trouble

no family of our social

is

to earn a living than the

bass family."

"

Come

along," said the Joblily, giving another punch

with his fish-bone

and Larkin travelled on.

;

Presently they came to a log with something growing

on

it.

" "

What

beautiful

Moss, indeed

!

!

said

a colony of small animals,

"

"

moss "

one of the all fast

They have an easy time

Larkin

" ;

they don't have

of

;

" that

is

one stem."

to

suppose," said Lazy

I

it,

to

Joblilies

travel,

they cannot

for

move." "

True, but these beautiful, transparent moss animals

have to get their living by catching creatures so small that you cannot see them. They have great numbers of little fingers or feelers that are going

Larkin touched one, and

it

all

the time."

immediately drew

really sivallozved itself ; for these

way

little

itself in,

things take this

of saving themselves from harm.

And

swam

so Larkin

world beneath the lake.

through the sand

;

on, and found that

He saw

it

was a busy

mussels slowly crawling

he found that the pickerel, which he was really standing guard over her

had supposed idle, nest, and fanning the water with her

fins all

day long, that

a current of fresh water might be supplied to her eggs.

And

all

the time the Joblilies kept singing

THE

JOBLILIES,

109

"Work! work! Never shirk

There

Work

is

And lilies

they

!

for you,

for all to

Happy They

work

do

!

who do

it,

that shirk shall rue

it

" !

long swim around the lake, the Jobcame back to Duck Point again, and climbed out on after their

No

sooner had Larkin seated himself " Tu-whit with the rest than he heard a great owl cry,

the

lily

leaves.

!

tu-whoo

" !

Immediately the Joblilies leaped into the air, and the whole hundred of them dashed into the water like so many bull-frogs, crying, as they

came down,

"What will the Joblily do, When the great owl cries

tu-whoo ?"

Larkin looked around suddenly to see whither they had gone, but could discover no trace of them. A moment after, he found himself sitting under the same tree that he

was under when the

Joblilies

came

for him.

The

to

walk home alone.

He thought carefully over his trip with am glad to say, gradually learned to

the Joblilies, and,

boys had gone, and he was forced I

ous, though habits,

and

it

be more industri-

took him a long while to overcome his lazy

still

longer to get rid of the

name

of

Lazy Lar-

no kin.

QUEER STORIES. But he remembered the

I trust

you

will

not forget

it

jingle of the Joblilies,

:

"Work! work! Never shirk There

Work

is

they

!

for you,

for all to

Happy They

work

do

!

who do

it,

that shirk shall rue

it

" !

and

THE PICKANINNY. T T was rather a warm ^ had given the

day

in

Aunt Cheerie

autumn.

sewing-machine and the piano a hoH-

day, and was sitting in the woodshed, paring apples for

Wherever Aunt Cheerie was, the children were be and so there was Sunbeam, knife in hand,

preserves.

sure to

;

and Fairy, cutting a paring something less than half an inch thick, while the dear little Chicken was wiping apples for the others to pare,

was trying

and

little

Tow-head, baby-brother, which were a couple

to upset the peach-box, in

of pet chickens, that were hatched out too late, and that

had

them from Jack Frost. "The Nest" Sunbeam is

to be kept in-doors to secure

For you must know that at " Old Hen." That

called the

chickens.

They know her

is,

she has charge of the

so well that,

when she

feeds

up on her shoulders and eat out of her

them, they fly hands. And if there

any unfortunate one, it is well for. One poor, little wayward pullet wandered into our neighbor's garden. She was very naughty, doubtis

cared

less,

but she got severely punished

;

for our

thinks a great deal of his garden, and not ens, unless they are fricasseed.

He

neighbor

much

shot at our

of chick-

little

run-

STORIES.

QUEER

112

and the poor thing came home dragging a broken and useless leg. Now, if any chicken ever had

away

pullet,

good

care, our

little

"

Lamey

of suffering in hot weather,

"

it

at last able to

is

feet, though the broken leg

both

After weary weeks

has.

is

walk on

The

sadly crooked.

children do not object to having the other chickens killed for the table,

but

But how did

Lamey's

little

I

get to talking

life is

insured.

about chickens

?

I

was

going to say that when I came home, and found the folks paring apples, I went out in the shed, too, and sat down

by the

Little Chick.

And

Chicken

Little jerked her

head and looked mis-

chievously out of her bright eyes, and said nice

we

is

peelin'

'cause they

me I

a story,

is

apples.

good

" See

how

We's makin' peserves, we

to eat, they

you mus',

:

is.

And you

'cause I'm a-helpin'

Aunt

mus'

is; tell

Cheerie,

am."

For you must know that the Small Chick is not very " polite, and doesn't say please," when she can help it. " Lend us a hand at the apples, too," said Aunt Cheerie.

"

No, I can't tell stories and pare apples, too." " Does you need your fingers to tell stories wid, like the dumbers that we heard talk without saying any"

thing

?

Chicken Small had been to an exhibition of Professor Gillett's

deaf and

dumb

pupils.

THE PICKANINNY. "

Well, no,"

I

make my

could

said

;

II3

" but you see, Chicken,

tongue and

my

fingers

go

I

never

same

at the

time.

"

I

much with your Aunt Cheerie "for I never knew be still, except when you were asleep."

should think you had never done

fingers, then," said

your tongue to a

I felt

little

gan the story

;

anxious to change the subject, and so be-

at once.

" Little Sukey Gray " What a name

funny

Yes, and a funny

girl

" " !

cried the Fairy.

was Sukey Gray.

She had

yel-

low hair that was tied up in an old-fashioned knot, behind, though she was only eleven years old for you must know ;

that

Sukey

where chignons were unknown. Now

lived in a part of the country

and top-knots of the

latest

style

Sukey's w^ay of doing up her hair in a great knot, behind,

But with an old-fashioned tuck comb, was not pretty. " Whitelived in w-hat was called the Oak Susan Gray

Flats try."

" ;

" a region sometimes called the Hoop-Pole Coun-

It

for there

was not the most enlightened place

was no school, except

in the world,

for a short time in winter,

and the people were very superstitious, believing that if they carried a hoe through the house, or broke a lookingglass,

somebody

" would die before long," and thinking

that a screech-owl's scream and the howling of a

were warnings

;

and that potatoes must be planted

in

dog the

" dark of the moon," because they grew underground,

QUEER STORIES.

114

and corn

the "light of the

moon," because it grew and that hogs must be killed in the increase of the moon, to keep the pork from frying away in

above ground to

gravy

;

!

As Sukey had always lived in the White-Oak Flats, she did not know that they were dreary, for she was always happy, doing her work cheerfully. But one of Susan's cousins, who lived a hundred miles away, had made her a

This cousin, like Sukey, lived

in the country, but she had plenty of books and had read many curious and wonderful things, with which she was accustomed to visit.

delight Sukey.

But when Cousin Annie was gone, Sukey found the She wished there were some pasuch as have in India, or that there were godas, they Flats a dreary place.

some cannibals

She thought if she were living near her. would buy an omnibus, with four " blaze-faced " She got horses, to drive for her own amusement.

rich, she

sorrel tired

pumpkins and cabbages, and longed for bears and red Indians. She hated to wash dishes

of the

grizzly

and feed the chickens, but thought she would like to be a slave on a coffee plantation in Ceylon. " " she sighed, " I wish I was out of the Oh, dear !

Hoop-Pole Country. in these fiats.

I

am

There

is

nothing beautiful or curious

tired of great yellow sunflowers

hollyhocks and pumpkin blossoms.

something curious or beautiful."

I

wish

I

and

could see

THE PICKANINNY. Now,

isn't it

strange that any

115

little girl

should talk

with plenty of birds and trees and sunshine

But so

?

so, it is

We generally refuse to enjoy what is in our reach, and long for something that we cannot get. Just as Chicken Little, here, always wants milk when with most of us.

there

is

none, and always asks for tea

when you

offer her

milk.

"

Well, 'cause I'm

firsty, that's

the reason," said the

Chicken.

Now, when Sukey second story,

She

house.

dow

sat

said this, she

you could

if

call

it

was up

in the loft,

or

story, of her father's

on a bench, looking out of the gable win-

chimney, made by building a square cob-house arrangement of sticks of wood, tapering toward at the old stick

the top, and plastering

it

with clay.

The top

of the chirn-

ney was surrounded by a barrel with both ends open, through which the smoke climbed lazily up into the air.

Near by stood an oak-tree, in which a jay-bird was screaming and dancing in a jerky way. Sukey then looked into the blue sky,

away

and the clouds seemed to become

pagodas, and palm-trees, and golden ships floating drowAll at once she heard somebody say, in a sily away. queer, birdlike voice

" I

Pray,

look

make bold

this

way,

little

are

say you neither laugh nor play

You pray

to

?

;

Sukey looking

now

Gray.

grum

what's

the

May

to-day

?

reason,

I 1

QUr.ER STORIES.

6

Sukey

started up to see where this funny jingle

came

where the jay-bird had stood a few minutes before, was a queer-looking little and a chap, in blue coat and pants, with a top-knot cap

from.

the

in

There,

He

rather sharp nose.

had a his

most comical

words out

odd

oak-tree,

looked a

face

little like

a jay-bird, but

and blinky eyes, and brought

making them rhyme in an the time he was dancing and

in short jerks,

sort of jingle.

And

all

laughing and turning rapid somersaults, as blue coat could hardly hold so

much

if

the

little

fun.

" Well, now," broke out Sukey, you are the only I've been curious thing in all the Hoop Pole Country. "

wishing for something odd or strange, and I am glad you have come, for there is nothing beautiful or curious in all

White-Oak

the

Flats."

What's that you say? You must be blind as a pumpkin rind, era leather-winged bat

"Why, Sukey Gray!

;

this ful

White-Oak Flat

is

right in the face.

see that the

little

just the place to look the beauti-

Now come

with me, and

we

will

bee, or this great oak tree, or the bright,

blue skies, are beautiful things,

All the while the

little

we open our eyes." was getting off this queer

if

fellow

speech, he was swinging and tumbling along up the great limb that reached out toward the window at which Sukey sat.

By

the time he had finished

the window-sill, where he

somersault.

He

it,

he was standing on

had alighted

laughed heartily

after

a giddy

so heartily that

Sukey

THE PICKANINNY.

11/

laughed, too, though she could not tell why. Then he took ofif his cap, and said, " Will pickaninny, at your service, Sukey Gray while take a walk with me Now you to-day? jump, you

A "

may

!

!

and he took hold of her two hands and jumped,

and she jumped

They

after him, feeling as light as a feather.

alighted on the branch of the oak-tree.

He

im-

mediately began to pull lichens off the bark, and show Sukey how curious they were. He showed her how curiously one kind of lichen its

own

other.

grew upon another, omitting and leaves, and making use of those of the Then he laughed at her, because he had found

stalk

curious things within ten feet of her window.

Next he took her her

how

breaking

own

to her

the limbs were swelled in oft"

the twig, he placed

gan to pound it with his fist. strong, and he had to strike could break

back

rosebush, and showed

it

at seeing

"Now,"

When

open.

Then

against a tree, and be-

But it

places.

his little

arm was not

several times before he

did fly open,

Sukey

started

of plant-lice, or aphides.

it full

said

it

it

some

the

pickaninny, "in this

little

house

what curious things These little aphides have no wings. But their great-great-grandfathers, and their great-great!

Their mothers and grandmothers and had none, and their children will have great-grandmothers none, and their grandchildren will have none, and their

grandmothers had.

great-grandchildren will have none

;

but their great-great-

I 1

QUEER STORIES.

8

grandchildren will have wings again, for every ninth generation can fly."

"

How

Then

curious

" !

said

Sukey.

the pickaninny found a

blackbird's nest,

swamp

and showed her how strangely it was made then they climbed down the chimney of the school-house, and he ;

showed her how the chimney swallow glued her nest gether

and he coaxed a katydid to

;

that she might see that.

At

last

to-

fiddle with his wings,

they entered the pump-

kin patch.

"Well," said Sukey, "there's nothing curious I

know

all

With

that the pickaninny

down on

here.

about pumpkins."

commenced

to

jump up and

one, but he was so light that he could not break

He

kept jumping higher and higher now he was bouncing up ten feet in the air, then fifteen, then twenty, until at last he leaped up as high as the top of the oakit.

;

and coming down, he struck

tree,

his heels

through the

the tears ran off her chin.

pumpkin. Sukey laughed The pickaninny thrust his arm in and took out a seed. Then breaking that open, he showed Susan that the inside till

of a

pumpkin seed was two white

of the

young pumpkin

vine.

And

while the pickaninny showed her

which

I

At away

" !

have not time to " he

last

said,

tell

leaves, the

first

leaves

so an hour passed

many

curious things, of

you.

Now, Sukey Gray, pray

let

me

fly

THE PICKANINNY. " '

'

"

I19

you want to go," said Susan, Then pluck the mistletoe, and let me go." What do you mean ? " she asked. I

shall not

I

cannot go

keep you

Sukey pulled

until

if

you pluck the mistletoe."

a piece of mistletoe

from the

liriib

where

they were standing, and he bowed and said, " Now, Sukey Gray, good-day. Don't waste your sighs, but use

With

your eyes."

that he leaped into the

but there was

Susy looked up,

air.

only the bluejay, crying,

"

Jay

!

jay

!

jay 1"

peevish way, and herself looking out the window. "What a wonderful country the White-Oak Flats

in a

must be," she said. And the more she used her eyes, the more she was satisfied that the Hoop-Pole Country was the most wonderful in the world.

THE GREAT PANJANDRUM HIMSELF. /^"^HICKEN LITTLE was ^-^

by the window, with

floor 'at

thing

a picture, sitting on the

you look fru," she

calls

it

"the

a stereoscope

her hand, and the

in

pictures scattered about her.

Now some

of the children think that

I

have been

*'

making up" Chicken Little, and that there is no such a few weeks ago, after I had been talking to a being. church full of people, there came up to me a very great

A

sweet little " Do

girl.

you write

f she

stories in T/ie Little Corporal

asked.

When

told her

I

" earnestly,

Now

Well,

there

is

I

may be

Little Corporal that

looked up, and asked,

did, she

there any real, live Chicken Little ?"

others of the great

want

to

"real, live Chicken Little."

I tell

you

key

when she stands up on my ;

if

you had heard

could see in the stove

you could

see

how

there

of

there

is

;

is.

all

any

If

if

her, yesterday, explain that

when

The

you you could see shoulders like a mon-

could see her merry mischievous face her

army

know whether

the doors were shut

God ;

if

she always manages to do what you

THE GREAT PANJANDRUxM HIMSELF. don't want her to do, and then find a

afterward; you " Chicken Little."

would

twinkle in her eye,

think

there

121

good excuse for it was a Hve, real

If you could have seen the old, funny when I found her with the stereoscope,

you would have thought she was

a real, live Chicken,

sure enough.

" "

"

Now, '

Got

then, you've got to '

to

don't

Well, p'ease

tell

tell

tell

me

a story," she said.

stories."

me

one, then."

"Yes," said Sunbeam, peeping

in,

" about the Great

Panjandrum himself."

"Ah! you little " hold uf my secret ?

mink,"

I

said,

"how

did you get

"

Why, I knew it all the time." Now, you see, the case was this

;

I

did not

know

that

names of the Garuly and the Pickaninny came from. But

the children understood where the

and the

Joblily,

Sunbeam, who dips a little here and there into a great many books, and who never forgets anything she hears, had somehow gotten hold of my secret. It was this. There was a man who could repeat whatever he read once. One of his friends undertook to write something So he wrote nonsense, and he could not remember. that with the long memory failed to remember The nonsense, which I read when I was a boy, is, if I the

man

member

it

rightly, as follows

it.

re-

:

" She went into the garden to cut a cabbage leaf to

QUEER STORIES.

122

make an apple

pie

the street thrust his

So he

And

and a great she-bear coming down head into the shop. What, no soap ? ;

'

*

and she very imprudently married the barber. there were present the Garulies, and the Joblilies, died,

and the Pickaninnies, and the Great Panjandrum himself, with his little, round button-at-the-top and they all fell ;

to playing the

powder

game

of

'

Catch-as-catch-can,'

till

the gun-

ran out at the heels of their boots."

Now

you see where the Garulies and the Joblilies and came from. And that's why the chil-

the Pickaninnies

dren thought the next story should be about the Great

Panjandrum. And so I began I was wandering, one day, in the Land of Nod, :

in that

part of it known as the state of Dreams, and in the county of Sleep, and in Doze township, not far from the village of Shuteyetown, in Sleepy Hollow, where stands the

Church of the Seven Sleepers, on the corner of Snoring Lane and Sluggard Avenue, near Slumber Hall, owned

by the Independent Association

of Sleepy-headed Nin-

compoops. "

What

a place

" !

said Fairy.

was going to say, I was walking through Sleepy Hollow, when I met some children. Well, as

"

Where

"

We

I

are

want

"

you going

to find

?

I

asked.

a four-leaved clover

and a beetle

"for if we can find with one eye," said one of them them, we shall be able to get into the Great Panjandrum's ;

THE GREAT PANJANDRUM HIMSELF. and there we can learn whether there

place,

I23

is

a

bag of

gold at the end of the rainbow or not." Now, I was seized with a great desire to see the trious

Panjandrum

for myself,

illus-

and to know what he had

to say of that wonderful bag of gold that Avas to be found And at the place where the rainbow touched the ground.

so

for a

work with the happy boys and

to

I fell

was soon found, but

At

beetle.

sort

of beetles

fighting.

a

last

combat

it

;

but

that

children

call

"

"

pinch-bugs

were

engaged in or whether they

prize-fighters,

one thousand dollars a

I

clover

was a long time before we got the to a log on which two of that

were fighting a duel about some

know

The

we came

Whether they were for

looking

girls,

one-eyed beetle and a four-leaved clover.

side,

affair

of honor,

I

do not

did notice that they fought most brutally,

away savagely on each other's hard shells, without doing a great deal of damage, however. But one of them had lost one eye in the fight, and so we scratching

seized

him and made

off,

leaving the other to snap his

tongs together in anger because he had nobody to pinch. It must be a dreadful thing to want to hurt somebody

and have nobody to hurt. When we had gone some distance, we came to a gate It read, "THE that had a very curious sign over it.

Great Panjandrum Himself."

There was

a

Garuly

with a club standing by the gate, and a Pickaninny, in a blue coat with a long tail, hopping around on top of it.

QUEER STORIES.

124

We showed the one-eyed

beetle and the four-leaved clover,

and the Garuly immediately hit the gate a ringing blow " in with his club, and shouted, " Beetle beetle beetle !

!

!

a wonderfully sharp and squeaking voice, while the Picka" Cloninny on top jerked a little bell rope, and sung out

Then we could

ver."

see .through the gate a Joblily

lift-

ing his head up out of a pond, inside the enclosure. " " How many eyes ? he asked. "

One," said the Garuly.

"

How many leaves

" ?

he said, again.

"

Four," returned the Pickaninny. " Then let them in that they may see the Great Pan-

jandrum himself, and learn whether there be a bag of gold at the end of the rainbow." Saying this the Joblily went under the water and the gate opened.

We

passed three gates, that were opened in the same manner, and found ourselves in front of a queer old house, with seventy-seven gables and ever so " THE over every door was written,

DRUM Himself."

many doors, and GREAT PANJAN-

There was a great bustle about the

place, dried-up Garulies running around, dandy-looking

Pickaninnies hopping about, and Joblilies

swimming

in

We asked what it all " " she was and then they all going to marry the barber tittered, and we could not for the life of us tell what this the lake.

meant, and were told that ;

pother meant. When we told a Garuly that we wanted to see the Great Panjandrum himself, and to find out

THE GREAT PANJANDRUM HIMSELF. whether there was a bag of gold at the end of the bow, he took our one-eyed beetle, and gave the

125

rain-

four-

Together they took them out in a moment to tell and a came into the house, Joblily us that the Great Panjandrum was having his little round

leaved clover to a Pickaninny.

button-at-the-top brushed up, and that

we chose we

if

could wait for him in the museum.

The museum was

a queer place.

was

It

old Garuly

who

the

showman,

We

acted as showman.

fore a cage that contained a crazy

"

is

the

mouse

stopped be-

first

"

mouse.

that ran

just inside

There was an

the seventy-seventh gable of the house.

up the

This," said

clock.

Just

as he got up there, the clock struck one, and though the

poor fellow ran back again, he has never been right since. This long slender cow', that you see, has a great taste for

She

music.

is

the one that

the cat played the fiddle.

lowed

been able see

dog that laughed on He was so much amused that he has never This

to play since.

that occasion.

some

jumped over the moon when The cat has never been al-

is

the

little

In this pot you

to get his face straight since.

plum porridge, with the eating of Here is a the South burnt his mouth.

of the cold

which the man portrait of the

in

man

in the

moon, when he came down too

soon to inquire the way to Norwich. In one of the other gables of this house I can show you Mother Goose's cap frill.

And

here

is

the arrow with which

cruelly murdered by the sparrow.

Cock Robin was

This

is

the original

QUEER

126

STORIES.

and genuine arrow all others are humbugs. This bone that Mother Hubbard went to look for, but

is

;

the

failed

Here are the skates on which the

to find.

"Three boys went

a-skating

All on a summer's day,

They

all fell in,

And

And

here

hood met

is

the rest ran away."

the skin of the wolf that Little

in the

Red Riding-

woods."

going to inquire of him which was the true version of that story, whether the wolf really ate Little I

was

just

Red Ridinghood before

I

up, or whether she ate the wolf

got a chance, a Joblily

came

to

in

;

but

say that the

Great Panjandrum himself was coming, and soon the queerest

little,

old, round, fat

man came

in,

puffing like a

porpoise, and rolling from side to side as he walked. hair looked like sea grass, and was partly covered

His

by a

'*

little queer concern, nothing less than the celebrated round button-at-the-top." " And so you want to see whether there is really a bag of gold at the end of the rainbow, do you ? Well, I'll

show you, though

I

haven't

much

time, for he died last

week, and she very imprudently intends to marry the barber."

This could

by

is

tell

what the Panjandrum

who "she"

the barber.

said,

was, nor, indeed,

and we never

whom

iie

meant

THE GREAT PANJANDRUM HIMSELF, "

and

Pickaninnies, open

let

them

the wonderful

12/

Pantoscopticon,

see."

The wonderful Pantoscopticon was brought

we were allowed

to look

in

out,

and

it.

There were holes enough for us held several rainbows in one sky.

all

to see,

and we be-

On one of them was marked " Get and keep," on another " Eat, drink, and be merry," besides some that were too far away for me to There was one that had an inscription in unknown read. shone with their own

letters that

Though

light.

I

could

not read the words, they reminded me somehow of the Latin sentence which I once read over the gate of a park

belonging to the richest duke that goodness

is

in

England, which says,

the only true nobility, or something of

the sort.

All the time

we were looking

the Great

Panjandrum round button-at-the-top on his head, was turning a crank in the side of the wonderful Pantoscopticon, which had a hopper on the top of it like Himself, with

his

little

that of an old-fashioned coffee-mill.

puffing out

As he

turned he kept

:

" If you want to find out whether there

is

any gold

at

the end of the rainbow, please walk up the ladder, get into the hopper, and be ground down to a proper size."

He

hissed out the

word

size,

drawing

it

as long as his

breath would hold. I

didn't

know what

his

words meant

until a

ladv with

QUEER STORIES.

128

a red parasol went round behind the Pantoscopticon and

cHmbed

to the top. After looking down at the rattling wheels of the machinery a moment, she jumped into the

hopper, just as the Panjandrum came round again to the word " s z e." I looked into the machine and had i^

the satisfaction to see this lady

come

out, not in pieces as

expected, but looking just as she did when she went in, except that she was reduced to rather less than an inch in I

height.

Her

parasol was a mere rose-leaf for size

about

A gentleman with a had seen walking through the museum with this lady, and who seemed to be her husband, stood looking into the peep-holes when she came out. He cried as big as a silver three-cent piece.

white hat,

whom

I

:

" Hold on, Amanda, and

I'll

go with you

to see

about

the rainbows and the pot of gold."

But the

little

lady with the red parasol didn't seem to

hear him, she only walked ahead eagerly toward the rainbows. The gentleman with the white hat rushed up the

and leaped into the hopper without a moment's pause, and the Great Panjandrum Himself, seeing that the man was in a hurry, turned the crank twice as fast as stairs

The gentleman was caught in the wheels and When he came to the bottom, properly a-whirling.

before.

sent

reduced, the speed of the machinery was such that he was thrown out with a shock and his white hat, about the size of a doll's thimble,

fell

crying out as he did so

off, :

so that he

had to pick

it

up,

THE GREAT PANJANDRUM HIMSELF. " Hold on, Amanda, and

The

little

I'll

129

go with you."

lady with the red parasol seemed to hear

she turned her head long enough to say but she something, kept walking briskly forward, either because she couldn't help it, or more likely for fear some-

him

this time, for

wauld get the pot of gold which, as everybody knows, lies at the end of a rainbow. However, by run-

body

else

ning, the

little

inch-long gentleman caught up with the

seven-eighths of an inch lady, and the two went along to-

gether to find the pot of gold. Still the Great Panjandrum kept toiling at the crank, while others plunged into the hopper and came out " ground down to a proper size," as the Great Panjan kept Presently some of the children

saying.

with

me jumped

an inch

into the

The

in length.

who had come

hopper and came out about half I went up to

others followed, and

the top and looked at the whirling wheels, fearing to the leap. take

But

away my

at last I

eyes.

I

became

being ground the wheels until

down I

I

exactly like the idea of

to a proper size."

became

dizzy,

and

But

at length

whirl and was pitched and turned about in the ful

way

until

I

when

make

fascinated and could not

did not care about the pot of gold,

nor about the rainbows, nor did "

in

came out

at

the bottom.

I

looked

fell

into the

most

I felt

at

frigjit-

as big a^

looked up and saw thp eyes of the people staring at me through the peep-holes and found that these eyes were nearly as large across as I was tall, I ever, but

9

I

QUEER STORIES.

I30

knew

that

I

must have been grounxJ down.

I

ran after

the children and went on for a long time, trying to find the c^[ the rainbows. There were many suns in the sky and many rainbows, but no pots of gold, nor would the ends of the rainbows wait for us.

ends

At length we came to the one written over with unknown letters that shone with their own light. This one stood still, having one end resting in a low-lying valley and the other end on top of a high mountain, which was very steep and difficult to climb.

At

the lower end

we found

an earthen pot sealed up, which the gentleman in the white hat proceeded to open. To the disappointment of the lady with the red parasol and all of us, there was not a piece of gold in '

THE GOLD

IS

it

only a paper on which was written,

AT THE HIGHEST END OF THE RAINBOW."

We

looked up the mountain-side, but all of us by this time felt too weary and lazy to scramble up the clififs,

and among the thorns

to find a pot of gold.

Besides

we

were hungry, and not a little uneasy as to how we should A ground-down Pickaninny get back our proper size. who had joined us proposed to hop over along the arch of the rainbow and see whether there was any gold on the

Being very light he easily ran up the bow, while we, anxious to get out, did not even wait for mountain-top.

him

to

come back, but hurried down

the long road tow-

THE GREAT PANJANDRUM HIMSELF. ard the peep-holes and the grinding-machine. road, for

long

it

seemed miles

131

I

say the

to us little people.

I

sup-

pose we had travelled twice the length of a good-sized house from the starting-point, and that is a long journey for legs so short.

All the

way we wondered how we

should get out, and

whether we should ever regain our proper stature. we came to the grinding place the mill was still. costed an old Garuly "

How

"

who was wandering

do we get out

Why, by

" ?

I

We

ac-

about.

said.

getting the Great Panjandrum Himself to

set the thing a-going the other

Then he walked "

When

way," he squeaked. and shouted

to a speaking-tube

:

O

Great Pan, grind 'em upward." All this time I could see the eyes of ladies and gentle-

men

looking at us through the peep-holes, and their eyes

were about

mean

to

as big as

be stared

at

wagon-wheels to

my

I felt

sight.

by such gigantic goggle-eyed creat-

ures.

The Panjandrum

did not start the wheels at once be-

cause he was looking around for his at-the-top without which

length

when

little

round button-

he cannot do anything.

the wheels were set a-going, the

man

in

At the

white hat and the lady with the red parasol went up, and I was just about to climb up the pipe myself, to get out of the glare of the people's eyes, cried out

:

when one

of the children

QUEER STORIES.

132

"

O

sir

we'll

!

We

never get home.

can't reach the

tube."

So

I

took hold of them one after another and pushed

them up the spout until the wheels running backward caught them. Whenever a boy or girl slipped out of my hands I would soon after see two more of those hateful time

I

turning or that his

blow last

me

through the peep-holes. All the was afraid the Panjandrum Himself would quit

big eyes looking at

little

round button-at-the-top would

And

off before I could get out.

boy

just as I thrust the

up the spout the wheels began to slacken.

" the Great Pan has let go Quick," cried the Garuly, Your last chance for to-day is to get of the machine. "

through on the headway." I climbed in, immediately, but

could

I

feel the

works

Slowly my head and my body came out at the top, but the wheels stopped stock-still before my left foot could be drawn out. It was only by slipping gradually stopping.

my

boot that I escaped. there came along the Pickaninny that out got

foot out of

Just as

I

my

had gone over on the rainbow. other

way known

to Pickaninnies

pot just like the one

and he

set

it

He had come back some

down

we had

seen.

and had

But

for us to look at.

this

in his

arms a

one was

full,

There were doub-

loons of Spain, there were pistoles, guineas, Arabian and pieces, Jewish money, coins of Alexander the Great, I

know

not what besides.

THE GREAT PANJANDRUM HIMSELF.

1

33

While we were examining these, a Garuly came in to say that the she-bear had brought the soap, and that the barber was waiting. The Great Panjandrum, in a state of flustration, hurried past us, and we, not knowing what else to do, stood looking at lily

went by with a cabbage "

What

is

that?

"

each other.

Just then a Job-

leaf.

asked one of the

little

girls of

our

party.

"

A

cabbage

leaf to

make an apple

pie," he replied,

without looking around. Presently a Pickaninny came along with a small keg in his

" "

hands.

What

is

that

Gunpowder

" ?

asked the same curious

for the heels

little girl.

of their boots," he an-

swered, and went on.

And

from one of the seventy-seven into the keg, and there was a frightful explo-

a spark of

chimneys

fell

fire

sion.

But

I don't think it was the Panjandrum's house that blown got up, but we ourselves, for we found ourselves outside in the woods going home from Shuteyetown. I for one resolved that the next time I came to the rainbow

with one foot I

in

the valley and the other in the mountain,

should climb to the upper end of

it.

Stories

Told on

a Cellar-door.

THE STORY OF A FLUTTER-WHEEL. "\

T THAT queer places boys have of assembling. Some'

mows,

times in one place, sometimes in another. river-banks, threshing-floors, these were

places of resort for country boys.

sweet to me, when

hay where

I

And

Hay-

the

old

nothing was so

was a boy, as the newly cut cloverwith two or three companions, watching

sat

I

the barn swallows chattering their incomprehensible gabble and gossip from the doors of their

And what stories we

rafters.

told

mud

and what

houses talks

in the

we

had.

who does not remember the old-fashioned celsloping down to the ground ? These were al-

In the city lar-door,

ways places of

Tom

Miller

was the

minister's son,

and there was a

who met

regularly on Parson Miller's cellarMrs. Miller used herself to listen to the stories they

party of boys door.

resort.

told, as she sat

by

the

window above them, though they

were unconscious of her presence. They were boys full of life and ambition, but they were a good set of boys on the whole, and it was not till lessons were learned and

work done belonged

that they

to the

met thus on the

same

class in school,

cellar-door.

They

and besides were

QUEER STORIES.

138

"cronies"

in

all

minister's son,

Jimmy

There was

respects.

who intended

to

Tom

Miller, the

be a minister himself, and

Jackson, the shoemaker's boy, as

full

of fun and

and poor Will Sampson, who stam-

playfulness as a kitten,

mered, and Harry Wilson, the son of a wealthy banker, and a brave boy too, and John Harlan, the widow's son, pale and slender, the pet of all, and great, stout Hans Schlegel,

who bade

half dozen

be a great scholar.

These

were nearly always on the cellar-door

for half

fair

to

an hour on Friday evenings, when they happened to have a little more leisure than on other evenings. " I've " I say, boys," said Hans, got an idea," " How must to it seem you," said Tom Miller strange ;

whereupon they

all

laughed, good-natured

Hans with

the

rest.

"

Do

an idea

let's

in this

hear

it,"

crowd

said

for

Harry a month."

"there has not been

;

"Well," said Hans, "let's every fellow tell a story here on the cellar door, turn about, on Friday evenings." "All except m-m-me," stammered Sampson, who was

own

always laughing at his

defect

through be-be-fore midnight." " we'll " Well," said Miller,

man,

to

keep us

They top

of

th-th-this

all

is

I

make

c-c-couldn't g-g-get

Will

Sampson chair-

in order."

agreed to

the

" ;

this,

cellar-door th-th-the

and Sampson moved up to the " and said G-g-gentlemen, :

proudest

m-m-moment

of

my

THE STORY OF A FLUTTER-WHEEL.

139

I'm president of the C-c-cellar-d-d-door C-club

life.

M-ni-many thanks

!

Harry Wilson

will

tell

the

!

first

"

st-st-story. "

"

Agreed

!

said the boys.

After thinking a minute,

Harry began.

HARRY WILSON'S I will

tell

a story that

you

my

STORY. father told

me.

In a

village Pennsylvania, on the banks of the Schuylkill River, there lived a wealthy man. in

" Once upon a time," said Jimmy Jackson. " B-be st-still Come to order th-th-there, Jackson," stammered the chairman, and the story went on. !

Yes, once upon a time, there lived a wealthy man who had two sons." The father was very anxious to make great

men

or rather

of them, or at least, educated men.

my father

I

think,

thinks, that their father used to

dream

would grow to be President, and that the other would be a member of Congress, at any rate. But while his younger son grew to be a good stuthat one of these boys

dent, the other one

was a good, honest, industrious, and

who did not much like books. His father make him a lawyer, and he got on well enough in Arithmetic and Geography, but Grammar came hard, and when he got into Latin he blui;idered dreadfully. intelligent boy,

intended to

He

studied to please his parents, and from a sense of duty,

QUEER STORIES.

I40

but

mortified

it

him greatly

succeed as the other

boys

to think that he could not

did.

For you know

to succeed at anything unless your heart

in

is

it

is

hard

And

it.

so one night he sat down and cried to think he must always be a dolt. His mother found him weeping and to

tried

comfort him.

She walked out

in

the

dusky

But poor David, for He had tried that was his name, was broken-hearted. " in interested his to all with Hie, haec, hoc," might get He said there was something lackbut it was of no use. " And I'll never amount to in his head. evening with him

and

talked.

anything,

ing

never

and

I

!

in a

Brother Joe gets his lesson

can't get

mine

few minutes,

at all."

His mother did not know what to say. said that there

was some use

for

But she only everybody. She knew

David was not wanting in intelligence. In practical But affairs he showed more shrewdness than his brother. a scholar. him on heart set his had his father making that

That very day the teacher had said was no use,

to his father that

it

" intends to take you from But we school, and it is a great disappointment to him. know that you have done your best, and you must not be If you were lazy, we should feel a great disheartened. "

Your

father," she said,

deal worse." Just then they

saw

in the

dim

came

light

to the orchard brook.

something moving

in

Here she

the water.

THE STORY OF A FLUTTER-WHEEL. "

What

is

that,

my

"That's

David

" ?

141

she said.

flutter-wheel,

and

I feel

like

it

breaking

to pieces."

"Why?" "

Well, you see,

all

the boys

made

little

water-mills to

be run by the force of the stream. We call them flutterBut I made one so curious that it beat them wheels.' '

he

all,"

"

said.

Show

plained

it

it

to

me, Davie," she said. And David exall about his unhappiness in

to her, forgetting

the pleasure of showing the

little

cog-wheels, and

the

under-shot wheel that drove " " And why did you want to break it up ? she asked. " Because, mother, Sam Peters said that I should it.

never be good for anything but to make flutter-wheels,

and

it is

"

If

true,

I

am

afraid."

you were a poor man's son, Davie, you might be

a good mechanic," said his mother. That night Davie resolved to be a mechanic.

"

I

If I can't won't be a good-for-nothing man in the world. a be be a learned professor, I may good carpenter or a

blacksmith.

If I learn to

make

a

good horseshoe,

I'll

be worth something." So the next morning he asked His father his father's leave to enter a machine-shop. and with all the school-boys laughing at went he took his him, tin-pail with his lunch in it, and And now he began to love into the shop each morning. said he might,

QUEER STORIES.

142

He

gathered a library of works on mechan Everything relating to machinery he studied. He

books, too. ics.

took up mathematics and succeeded. rose to a

good position

in the shop.

great railroad engineer.

last a

He

After a while he

And

he became

at

built that great bridge

at Blankville.

"

Why,"

David "

John Harlan, "I thought your Uncle

said

built that."

So he

did," said Harry.

"

My

uncle was the

boy

that could not learn Latin."

"

I

suppose," said

Tom

Miller,

" that

God

has use for

us all, boys. Perhaps Jimmy's father was as much intended to make shoes as mine to preach. What a mistake it

must be "

to get into the

Come,

wrong

place, though."

you're getting too awfully solemn,

Jimmy Jackson has time to

" ;

go

Tom,"

said

you'll put a fellow to sleep before he

to bed."

And

Jackson pretended to

snoce.

"

" The m-m-meeting's adjourned," said the president. Jimmy Jackson will be the sp-speaker at the n-next

m-m-meeting

of the Cellar-d-door S-society."

THE WOOD-CHOPPER'S CHILDREN. "

I

^HE

*-

next Friday evening found

all

the

the Cellar-door Club in their places.

the stammering

and fun chief,

*'

as ever.

members

of

Will Sampson>

chairman," was at the top, full of life Jimmie Jackson, running over with mis-

was by him, then came Tom Miller and John HarHans Schlegel and Harry Wilson sat at the bot-

lan, while

tom.

After a half-hour spent

in

general talk about school

and plays, and such miscellaneous topics as every gather" chairman " called ing of boys knows how to discuss, the out,

" ciety

Come is

t-to

order

c-called

J-Jeems Jackson

!

to

Th-th-the C-cellar-d-d-door So-

order.

the

is

G-g-gentlemen, the

speaker

f-for

the

Hon.

evening.

I

h-have the pl-pleasure of introducing him to you." " " " don't said the shoemaker's son No, you don't !

on so thick.

;

you want me to

my yarn along put with the rest of you, why, I'm ready, but if you call it a speech, you scare me out of my shoes, just like the man it

that tried to

get any

make

If

tell

a speech in the legislature, but couldn't

farther than

'

Mr. Speaker,

wheels and temperance.'

I

am

in favor of cart-

Or, like a boy

I

knew, who

QUEER

144

tried to declaim the

STORIES.

'

Countrymen, lend me your ears confused on the first line that he '

your ears

Friends,

speech beginning:

Romans,

and who got so badly I'd like to borrow said, '

!

*

"

!

This raised a laugh at the expense of Harry Wilson, who had broken down on that line, though he did not

make

it

as

bad

as

Jimmy

represented "

"

G-g-go on with your story man, and Jackson proceeded.

it.

stammered the

!

chair-

JIMMY JACKSON'S STORY. There lived

in a

country a long

way

off

it

don't mat-

let's a poor wood-chopper whose name was ter where It wasn't the fashion see well, we will call him Bertram.

to

have two names

couldn't afford

in

those days, you

He had

it.

a son,

dolph, and a daughter, Theresa.

and the

girl

was eleven years

old.

earned but a scanty subsistence

poor

living, I believe

help him. cheerful,

know

;

people

whose name was Ru-

The boy was twelve The wood-chopper

that

means an awfully

and the children soon learned to

Rudolph and Theresa were hard-working and and as they had never been rich, they did not

know what

was

to

be poor.

That

they thought they had plenty, because they never had any more and had no time to sit down and see how nice it would be to have a it

is,

;

fine

house, and be drawn in an elegant carriage.

But one

THE wood-chopper's CHILDREN.

145

fell on poor Bertram, and he was carried home arm and leg, I suppose if he had been rich broken with a enough to send for a great surgeon that lived in the city,

day a

tree

only two leagues away, he would have recovered without much trouble, but poor men have to do without such attentions,

and so Bertram's arm and

which were fixed

leg,

"bone-setter," were so crooked that he by could not work. And now the burden fell heavily on the a country

wife,

who had

to gather berries

and nuts

in the forests,

which she loaded on the donkey, and carried away to the But the poor woman was never very strong, city to sell.

was

breaking her down. The children did what they could, but it was not

and

this extra tax

fast

After working hard

much.

all

day, they amused them-

by manufacturing little articles out Rudolph had a sharp knife which had been

selves in the evening

of nutshells.

given him for showing a gentleman the way out of the But the circumstances of the family had become forest. so distressing that they had given

ployments, creeping sadly away to

up bed

their evening

em-

after a frugal sup-

per.

One

day, as they were gathering nuts in the forest,

Rudolph

said,

What

down.

"Sister,

can

we do

coming on, and times "I'll

"

why

will

fear that

to

mother

help her

?

is

The

breaking winter

is

be harder than ever."

you what, Rudolph," answered Theresa; we do something with your little nut-baskets

tell

can't

I

10

QUEER STORIES.

146

and nut-boats? dren,

who wear

I've fine

heard say that the httle city chilclothes and have plenty of money,

are very fond of such things.

Let us send

all

you have

by mother to-morrow."

And

so on the next

morning the mother's basket took

When evening came the children walked a quarter of a league down to the crossing of the brook to meet her, and hear the fate of their venture. the whole stock.

But the poor woman could only tell them that the work was admired, but that she had not succeeded in selling any of it. That night they went to bed more than ever

The next day, their mother carried their town again, and when she returned they were

disheartened. trinkets to

delighted to

know

that

some of them had

sold for a few

pence, and that a lady had sent an order for some mosses to

make

a moss-basket with.

"We'll make the basket ourselves," exclaimed Rudolph, and the next day they gathered the mosses, and

Rudolph and

his sister

worked nearly

all

night framing

basket of twigs, and fitting in the different colored mosses. What was their delight when they learned that a

the lady had paid a It

was

still

good price for the basket. Sometimes the up-hill work to live.

trin-

and sometimes they did not. But Rudolph kept whittling away, and his sister soon became a good whittler, too. Besides, she often sewed little pin-cushions kets sold

in the nut shells,

and did other things by which her

little

THE wood-chopper's CHILDREN. brown

fingers

were quite as useful

as

147

But

Rudolph's.

often they were discouraged by complete failure to sell. There was a fair to take place some time later, and

Rudolph and Theresa worked hard baskets and nut-shell boats for the

mother was city,

the

to

;

!

shells.

At

last

the poor mother was

the father was not able to

move

all

They even made came the day of

their little articles.

making

and, alas

as the poor

pick berries, but could spend

faces out of the nut

fair

And

broken down, and could not go to the

they had not

their time little

fairly

making swinging

fair.

still

sick,

while

out of his chair for rheu-

This was a sad disappointment, but Rudolph had often been to the city v/ith his mother, and he rematism.

solved to take Theresa and go himself. out, the parents could

As

the food was

not refuse, and the two children

climbed up on the donkey and set out. It was a wearisome and anxious day to the parents. At last, when evening came, there came no returning children. But an

hour

after

dark the donke)^ stopped before the door, and

Rudolph and adventures.

his sister

came

joyfully in to

tell

Very happy were the parents

their complete success.

And now the

the day's

to learn of

children went regu-

larly to the weekly markets or fairs, and had a stall of Their constant whittling made them more their own.

and more

skilful,

and

their

trinkets

were soon much

sought after. They were able to buy a little gold and silver, and soon learned to inlay their nut- shell snuff-boxes

QUEER STORIES.

148

and wooden jewel-cases, so

as to

make them very

beauti-

And as the wood-chopper grew better he was able do the rougher work of preparing the wood for them. And the money they realized was more than the woodful.

to

chopper was ever able to make a while still

some wood-carver's

more curious work.

in his best days.

tools helped

And

he

now has

After

Rudolph

to

do

a shop in town.

Theresa prepares his drawings and patterns for him, and does the staining and moss-work, and the firm is always

known

as

The Wood-Chopper's Children.

body wants a moral

to the story they can furnish

If anyit

them-

selves.

"

I

suppose the moral

SOMETHING "

I

HE

is,

that

EVERYBODY CAN DO

TRIES," said Miller. " said the chairman, s-s-suppose it's b-b-bed-time IF

and the boys adjourned.

THE BOUND BOY. /^~\^

^~^

the

Friday evening the boys came to-

third

gether in

some uncertainty

in

regard to

who was

to

But Will Sampson, the stammering story-teller. president of the club, had taken care to notify John Harbe the

lan, the

widow's son, that he was to

there was any general favorite

it

tell

was John

poverty excited the sympathy of

all,

his

the story. ;

If

for while his

manliness and

generousness of heart made everybody his friend, and so, when Sampson got the boys quiet, he announced " G-g-gentlemen of the order of the c-c-cellar-door, the story-teller for th-the evening is our friend Harlan. :

P-p-please c-come forward to the t-top, Mr. Harlan." "

I

Hurrah

say,

for

Harlan

" !

said

Harry Wilson, and

the boys gave a cheer.

" Give us a good one, John," said mischievous Jackson. " Order

said the chairman.

the c-c-cellar-door,

fl-floor,

son, or

" !

I'll

" I'm

I

Jimmy

" Mr. Harlan has the

Be

mean.

q-quiet, J-J-Jack-

reprimand you severely." perfectly

spoken a word

for

quiet,"

an hour."

said

Jackson.

" Haven't

QUEER

I50

STORIES.

JOHN HARLAN'S Well, boys,

I

don't

know

that

STORY. I

can do better than

you the story of one of my mother's old school-mates. His name was Samuel Tomkins

tell

" " Couldn't you give your hero a prettier name ? said " order," and the story Jackson but the president said ;

went on.

He

lived

Ohio River.

in

one of the counties bordering on the

It

was a rough log cabin in which his early He learned to walk on an uneven pun-

was passed. cheon floor; the walls were "chinked" with buckeye sticks, and the cracks daubed with clay, and a barrel, life

with both ends knocked out, finished off the chimney.

His father had emigrated from Pennsylvania, and was what they call in that country a " poor manager." He never got on well, but eked out a living by doing day's works, and hunting and fishing. But Samuel's mother was a woman of education, and had just given him a good He was then but eight years of start, when she died. age. chill,

A few and

months

little

later his father died of a congestive

Sammy

was thrown on the world.

He

was indentured to old Squire Higgins. The Squire was and in those days a bound boy was not

a hard master

much

better "

;

off"

than a slave, any how.

Up

early in the

doing chores," running day, and bringing morning the cows from the pasture in the evening, he was kept all

THE BOUND BOY.

15

1

always busy. The terms of his indenture obligated the Squire to send him to school three months in the winter;

and

it

was a

delightful time to

him when he took

his seat

on the backless benches of the old log school-house, with its one window, and that a long, low one, and its wide old

He And

fireplace.

cypher" very was employed

fast.

"

learned to in the

read,

summer

and

write,

time,

when he

throwing clods off the corn after the had he only to go once across the field while the plough, plough went twice. By hurrying, he could get considerin

This time he

able time to wait at each alternate row.

spent

in

He

studying.

hid

away

his

book

in the fence-

corner, and

by concealing himself a few minutes in the weeds while he waited for the plough, he could manage to learn

something

in a

day.

After he grew larger the Squire failed to send him to When asked about it, he said, " Wal, I 'low he school.

knows use to

But

good deal more'n I do now, learn so much. Spiles a boy to a

Sammy

an' 'taint fill

no

sort o'

him chock

was bent on learning, any how

;

and

full."

in

the

long winter mornings, before day, he used to study hard such books as he could get. " I never seed sich a chap," old Mrs. Higgins would " He say. got a invite to a party last week, and my at

old

man he

tole

him

as

sot right

how he mout go down thar, in that ;

but, d'ye b'lievc

air chimney-corbut ner, and didn't do nothin' steddy an' steddy all the

it ?

jist

QUEER

152

whole blessed time, while frolickin'.

It

beats

me

STORIES.

all

all

the other youngsters

wuz

a

holler."

But the next winter poor

Sam had

a hard time of

it.

The new school-master, who was hired because he was cheap, knew very little and when Sam got into trouble ;

with his " sums," and

asked the school-master about " he answered, them, Wal, now, Sam, I hain't cyphered reduction,' and

'

no furder'n

1

can't

tell

But they's

you.

a preacher over in Johnsonville a-preachin' and a-teachin' school.

knows

He

a reg'lar college

is

and

single

feller,

and

reckon he

I

double rule of three, and

all

the

rest."

Sam coaxed

the Squire to

let

him have old " Blaze-

face," the blind mare, to ride to Johnsonville, three miles

he would promise to be back " on time to begin shuckin' corn bright and airly." And before six o'clock he hitched old Blaze in front of " Preacher off,

the next morning,

Brown's ing a see a

"

door.

When

little

surprised to

the door in patched blue-jeans pantaloons

boy by

too short, and

that

was too

and

slate in surprise.

"

he knocked, Mr. Brown was mak-

the stove, and he was not a

fire in

that were

if

tight.

He

a well-worn

looked

"round-about"

at the boy's old arithmetic

"

I'm Squire Higyou please, sir," said Sam, bound I learn want to somethin', but I can't gins' boy. go to school and if I could, 'twouldn't amount to much, If

;

because the master don't

know

as

much

as

I

do, even.

I

THE BOUND BOY. sum

got ^tailed on a

to help

to get

you do everything there

cube root,

in

me

out, for I'm in

is

the old

153

an' I come down here bound to know how to

book

and

;

I've got to

be back to begin work in an hour." The minister shook him by the hand, and sat down cheerfully, and soon put daylight through the "sum."

Then Sam got

down

up, and feeling

in

the bottom of his

pocket, he took out a quarter of a dollar.

pay

you, sir?

year,

"

I

It's I

guess.

Keep

the tears

;

hope

!

keep

!

my

all

Would

I will

that

get in a

enough." said Mr.

my

Brown, brushing away

we

boy,

don't charge for

I'd like to lend

And come

to read.

England

it

" God bless you,

such work as that.

help you,

it's

" it

got, and

I've

all

"

you this History of over any evening, and I'll

brav^e fellow."

One evening

every week the bound boy rode old Blaze over to the minister's house, and rode back after in

came to be great The next year Mr. Brown threatened the old

eleven o'clock, for he and the parson friends.

Squire with the law for his violation of his part of the terms of the indenture, and forced him to release Sam,

who was his

eighteen now, from any further service.

way through college, and

matics

in

is

now

The

University.

He dug

Professor of Mathe-

old

Squire,

when he

hears of Professor Tomkins' success, always chuckles, and " You don't Wal, he used to feed my say, now says, !

hogs."

QUEER STORIES.

154

" We'll adj-j-journ with three cheers for Harlan," said Sampson. And they gave them.

Oh, don't go yet," said Tom Miller half-hour was passed in general talk. '

;

and so another

THE PROFLIGATE PRINCE. T^RIDAY --

evening next after the one on which John

Harlan told

his story,

it

rained

;

so the club did not

But they came together on the following Friday evening, and it was decided that Hans Schlegel should meet.

tell

the story.

" a

Come,

" Schlegel," said Harlan, you must

good many,

books.

for

you

are always studying big

Tell us one of the stories that those old

know German German

jaw-breaking names, have to tell." "Yes," said Jackson, "tell us about Herr Johannes

fellows, with

Wilhelm Frederich Von Schmitzswartsschriekelversaman"

arbeitfrelinghuysen

!

Jimmy's good-natured raillery raised and Hans joined in it with great gusto. "

I

think," said

Harry Wilson,

"

a hearty giggle,

Schlegel can

better story than any of those old fellows,

take

make a

whose names

away your breath when you pronounce them.

Tell

us one of your own, Hans." " " D-d-d-do but the just as you p-p-please, Sch-sch broke down in chairman stammering fairly trying to pro-

nounce the name, and the boys

all

had another laugh.

QUEER STORIES.

156

" Really, gentlemen," said Schlegel,

"

I

should be de-

you have asked me to tell German, and to tell you one

lighted to please you, but as

you a story that I've read in of my own make, and to do just

man who

be like the his

donkey

you remember

I

shall

"

But,

to carry

think

I

shall

I

can

I

Krummacher

have partly forgotten it. Now, if from the German

do

just as

it,

and partly please, and

up the story myself,

filling

I

all."

gratify you " takes Good," said Jackson Schlegel Go on with the story." distinction. I

;

nice

fear

and then

read a story in

I

I

please,

this story, partly translating

I tell

as

I

crowd.

the

please

some time ago, and

I

tried first to ride,

three requests.

all

fulfil

to

as

to

make

a

THE STORY.

He

Hazael was the name of the son of an oriental prince. was carefully educated by command of his father, and

grew up cannot tell

in the valley of the

tell

me.

you, for Herr

At

last,

Krummacher

when he came

father thought best to

know something people who stay

wise men.

to.

is,

at

home always

is

it

is

I

did not deign to

be a young man, his travel, that he might

of other people besides his own.

Thus

where knowledge

that

to

have him

thing strange that differs from

customed

What

For

are apt to think every-

what they have been ac-

that English-speaking

limited, think that

people,

German names

are

THE PROFLIGATE PRINCE. uncouth,

when

ture that

makes them seem

it

in the

Now,

157

only the narrowness of their

is

country

in

own

cul-

so.

which Hazael

lived,

they didn't

we do, to complete their send young men Europe, education by travelling at lightning speed over two or three countries, and then coming back to talk of their as

to

But

travels.

country, they sent them to Persia to

in that

they might study the manners and customs of the people. So Hazael came into Persia. He was allowed every liberty, but his old tutor, Serujah, follive awhile, that

him without

lowed

his

knowledge, and

watched

his

course.

When with

its

Hazael reached the great

splendors.

The

city,

he was dazzled

signs of wealth, the excitements

pf pleasure, and the influence of companions were too

much

for him.

He saw

the crowds of pleasure-seekers,

he was intoxicated with music, he was charmed with the

beauty and conversation of giddy women. the lessons of Serujah. tions.

pation.

ment.

He

forgot

all

Days and nights were spent

in

his

He

forgot

all

noble resolu-

pleasure and dissi-

In vain Serujah looked for any signs of amend-

He was

" a " fast

young ma.n,fasi because he was

going down hill. One day, as he wandered

in the pleasure gardens of his dissolute with Ispahan companions, he beheld his old master, Serujah, dressed as a pilgrim, with staff in hand,

hurrying past him.

QUEER STORIES.

158

"

you, and whither do you journey?"

Whence come

cried out the

"

I

young prince

do not know where

to Serujah.

am

I

going," answered Seru-

jaii.

"What!"

home and gone on

left

"have you and yet do not know

said Hazael, in astonishment,

a pilgrimage, "

where you are going ? " " Oh, yes," said Serujah, I just go here and there, taking the road that seems to be the pleasantest, or that

my

suits

fancy."

" But where

will

you come "

will such travelling lead

"

I

do not know.

to at this rate

?

Where

asked Hazael.

you That matters not ?

to

me," said the

wise man.

Then Hazael turned

man was once

this

my

lunatic,

he

is

he

and now, poor wandering over the earth not knowing where

But

youth. is

his reason has departed,

How

going.

full

companion and said. "See! He was the guide of of wisdom. to his

has the wise

man become

a fool

" !

Serujah came up to the young prince, and taking his knapsack from his back, threw it upon the ground.

"You

have spoken rightly," he said. "Hazael, I once led you, and you followed me. Now, I follow where

you

lead.

going.

I

have

lost

So have you.

my

road, and forgotten where

You

set

me

the example.

are wandering round without purpose. I have forgotten greater fool, you or I ?

Which

my

is

am You

I

the

destination.

THE PROFLIGATE PRINCE.

You have

I

59

forgotten your high duties as a prince, and

your manhood." Thus spoke the wise man, and Hazael saw his folly. " That story is solemn enough for Sunday-school," said

Jimmy

Jackson.

" But

it

isn't

bad.

Sharp old

fel-

low that Jerushy or Serujy, or whatever his name was. But I don't believe it's true. When a fellow gets a-going to the bad

you

can't turn

him around

so easy as that."

THE YOUNG SOAP-BOILER. was

ITgot

a mild evening in the early

fall,

when

the boys

together for the next story, which of course

to the lot of

Tom

Miller, the minister's son,

cellar-door

club was more obliging

forgiving to those

No boy

"The Dominie."

boys familiarly called

who

the

in the

to his friends,

injured him, than

fell

whom

more

"The Dominie,"

and none was more generally loved. But Tom had some He was a believer in "the strong opinions of his own.

when he wanted a little spending and cut wood on the sidewalk, take a saw would money, dignity of work," and

without any regard to some of the fellows, who called him wood-sawyer. He was given to helping his mother, and did not mind having the boys catch him in the kitchen

when

his at

mother was without "help." " There replied,

him he only

body laughed ing I am more proud of than

that

I

am

If is

anynoth-

not afraid to be

This independence, this utter contempt for the sneers of others when he was right, made the boys look useful."

for

something a

little

peculiar

when Tom should come

to

his story.

"

come

G-g-gentlemen to order.

!

Tom

this

c-c-cellar-door

Miller, the

dominie

society "

will

THE YOUNG SOAP-BOILER. "

l6l

"

The wood-sawyer

"

Y-yes, the w-wood-sawyer, the f-fearless reformer,

?

said Jackson, good-naturedly.

the b-b-beHever in hard work, the bravest

member

of the

c-cellar-door cl-club, has the slanting floor, the cellar-

door

itself,

and

I

hope he

will st-st-stand

by

his colors,

and give us a story that has the meanest kind of work it,

made honorable by d-d-dig-dignity of character." " " Sampson stammered a little on dig-dig just

think

the fun.

But the boys

all

in I

for

agreed to his request and so

they heard

TOM MILLER'S

STORY.

My story, boys, shall be what you ask. I shall call it " The Young Soap-Boiler," for I suppose you'll admit that boiling soap is about as unpleasant work as there is. "Touched bottom

that time," interposed

Harry Wil-

son. tell about was Dudley With a cheery eye and voice, a quick eye, a quicker hand and a fleet foot, he was a great favorite on the play-ground. If there was a weak boy, whom the

Well, the boy that I'm going to

Crawford.

others imposed upon.

Dudley was always

and the mean fellows who make up for " ward boys of their size by " picking

his fast friend,

their cowardice toat little fellows or

green boys, had always a wholesome fear of Dudley, though I do not think he ever struck one of them. But II

1

62

QUEER STORIES.

eye cowed them, and I am sure he would have struck hard if it had been necessary to protect

his fearless, honest

who kept under his wing. " Dud's chickens." boys called them the poor

little

The

fellows

There was one boy in the school, Walter Whittaker, Avho had a special desire to be on good terms with DudWalter's father had gotten rich during the war, and Walter had a special fondness for being genteel. He

ley.

wore gloves, and kept

any occasion

for.

older than Dudley.

Crawford his

his

boots brighter than there was

He was

not

much

of a scholar, though

But he was fond of

calling

young

friend, because Dudley's father was a rich

and talented lawyer.

At

last,

there

came a

financial crash that sent all of

Mr. Crawford's half-million of dollars to the winds.

was

in

feeble health

when

it

came, and the

He

loss of his " "

property hastened his death. The very same panic left Whittaker poor also. But the two boys took it very Whittaker looked as crestfallen as if he had differently.

committed a crime.

Dudley mourned the

loss of his

father, but held up his head bravely under the sudden Whittaker looked around for a "situation." poverty.

But the times were hard, and situations were not to be had. Every clerk that could be dispensed with was sent away, and besides, merchants do not like to employ a fellow who wears gloves and looks afraid of soiling his hands.

Dudley had

his

mother

to support,

and looked about

THE YOUNG SOAP BOILER. bravely for work. everything, as

Mr.

Bluff,

But no work was seemed,

it

who owned

163

He

to be had.

until at last

tried

he asked stern old

half a dozen factories of different

kinds.

"

You want work, do

want to keep books or such a

lot

o' fellers

you, young

man

?

I

s'pose

suthin' o' that sort.

I

never saw

askin'

for

work and

afraid

you

to dirty

their fingers."

"

do any honest work by which I can earn my bread, without being dependent on friends." " Any honest work, will you ? I'll make you back out I'll

of that

" "

air.

I'll

Try me,

bet you won't begin where

sir,

Well, then,

and I'll

did."

I

see."

give

you good wages

to

go

into

my

Ha ha that's soap factory next Monday morning. honest work but fellers of your cloth don't do that sort !

!

;

of honest work."

" / Mr.

will, sir."

Bluff"

was

utterly surprised, but he gave

Dudley

the situation, saying that he reckoned the smell of soap-

grease would send him out.

Dudley hardly knew what to make of his own boldBut he only told his mother that he had a situation

ness.

with Mr. Bluff, and that he did not nature of his duties.

He was

know

the precise

not ashamed of his work,

but afraid of giving her pain. Monday morning he went early to the soap factory,

QUEER STORIES.

l64

stopping at the tailor's on the way, and getting a pair of It must be confessed blue overalls that he had ordered. that the smell of the factory disgusted

him

at first, but

he

He saw that brains were used in He became more and more interested as he

soon became interested. soap-making.

saw how accurate some of the chemical processes were.

He

soon learned to cut the great blocks of hard soap with he watched with eager interest the use of coloring wires ;

matters in making the mottled soaps, and he soon became some of

so skilful that surly Mr. Bluff promoted him to

the less unpleasant parts of the work.

But there was much the

young

ladies

who had come

talk about

who had been

Some

it

at

first.

useless

all

their lives,

of

and

was necessary to " surprised that Dudley Crawford respectability, were should follow so low a trade." But those very people to think that uselessness

never once thought it disgraceful in Walter Whittaker to be a genteel loafer, living off his father's hard-earned salary,

And

I

and pretending that he was looking will not be too hard on Whittaker.

could have had a situation

and be paid well for it, But he shunned Dudley.

for a situation. I

think

if

he

which he could do nothing, he would have been delighted. in

Partly because he was afraid of

compromising his own respectability, and partly because he had sense enough to see that Dudley's honest eyes looked through him, and saw what a humbug he was. After a year Dudley's father's estate was settled, and

THE YOUNG SOAP-BOILER.

165

owing to an unexpected rise in some of the property, it was found that the debts would all be paid, and a small balance be

left for

the famih-.

It

was but a small amount,

enabled Dudley to lay aside his blue overalls, and Dr. Parmlee, the princireturn to the old school again. but

it

was delighted

pal,

to

have such a good pupil back again.

Whittaker came back about the same time, first

day he whispered

to

some of

the boys that

The boys laughed

smelled of soap-grease.

and' the

very

Dudley

thoughtlessly,

boys are apt to do, and passed the poor joke round. Dudley maintained the respect of the school in general, but there was a small clique, who never knew their les-

as

sons, but

who prided themselves on being

genteel dunces.

used to talk about the soap-grease, even in but the Doctor quietly retorted Dr. Parmlee's presence

These

folks

that

Crawford's hands smelled of soap-grease, that was

;

if

better than to have soap-grease inside his head and po-

matum on

the outside.

They were

a

little

more modest

but they could not forbear allusions that kept fire. His mother, who was very proud of her son's independence, could not but feel sorry that he after this,

Dudley under

was subject to such persecutions. *' Ah, mother," he would say, " the thing that I am proudest of in my life is, Don't think that I spent a year in Bluff's soap factory. that

I

At class.

am annoyed

at the barkings of lap-dogs."

came the day of graduation. Dudley led the There was a great crowd of fine people. The last

last

QUEER STORIES.

l66

" Honest Work Honon the programme was Dudley Crawford." With a characteristic manli-

speech of orable

all

So

ness he stood up bravely for work.

fine

were

his ar-

guments, so undaunted his bearing, that the audience Dr. Parmlee took off his spectacles were carried away. to wipe his eyes. Dudley's mother could not conceal her " Franklin's hands had printers' ink on them," " but they were shaken by princes and savans he said, pleasure.

the lightning

di-d

not despise them.

Garibaldi's fingers

were soiled with candle-grease, but they have moulded a free nation. Stephenson's fingers were black with coal,

and soiled with machine

oil

of a fireman's work, but they

pointed out highways to commerce and revolutionized

There are those

civilization.

looked crestfallen here) "

"

(Whittaker and his set

who

will gladly take the hand " of worthless loafers, or of genteel villains (here certain

ladies looked

down),

" but who would not have dared

shake hands with Franklin, the printer, with Garibaldi,

But Stephenson, the stoker. and right-thinking men there are no soiled

the tallow-chandler, with before

God

hands but guilty hands or idle ones." When he sat down, others beside his mother shed tears, and good Dr. Parmlee shook his pupil's hand in sight of the audience, but the applause

was so great that

nobody could hear what he said. And the next day a came from the chief editor of a leading paper, saying

note

that one

who

believed enough

in

labor to carry out his

THE YOUNG SOAP-BOILER. principles in his

them.

He

life,

167

would make an earnest advocate of

therefore tendered Mr. Crawford a place on

the editorial staff of his paper.

"

P-pretty

Sampson.

well

done,

Dominie,"

stammered Will

THE SHOEMAKER'S SECRET. A LL -^^^

things have an end.

had an end was the

other things

came

came

to an

Among

fine

other things that

summer

end with

it.

weather.

Many

Grass, flowers, and

Chirping of katydids came to an end. and chattering of swallows and songs of robins. And with the summer ended the Cellar-door Club, like

leaves

all

to an

end.

other out-door things that could not stand the

frost.

The boys understood

that their last meeting had come. But Will Sampson, the stammering chairman, was to tell his story, and though the cold evening made them

button up their coats, they determined to have one more good time together. And so with many a merry joke they took their places for what Jimmy Jackson called the " inclined plane of social enjoyment." Tom Miller got

up under the window and called the meeting to order, announcing that Mr. Sampson would tell the story for the evening.

"I s-s-see,

and

d-don't

b-boys,

know about if I tell it I

th-that," said Will.

shall

have to d-do

it

"You b-by

fits

you w-want g-g-get somebody whose tongue w-will w-wag when they starts.

If

a s-story told straight ahead,

THE shoemaker's SECRET. want

you want a y-yarn

If

to.

it

j

169

am

I

-j-jerked out,

your man." "

We

will

take

Will," said Miller.

and

it

jerked or any other

want

I

way you

choose,

to say just here that patience

would have cured Sampson of his stamThere is no excuse for anybody going through

self-control

merings.

the world with such a defect,

when

there are so

many

in-

stances of the victory of a strong and patient resolution

over

I shall give the story

it.

here as

if

he had spoken

it

smoothly.

WILL SAMPSON'S STORY. In a country a long

way

name

should

the

gard to

of

its

don't think

it

for fear I

off

I

don't care to

tell

make some mistake

you

in re-

geography or history or manners, and besides it's anybody's business just where a story

in a country a long way off perhaps that in existed never somebody's head, who country except knows ? Besides, a country that is in your head is

happened

just as

good lage all

good

as

one that

for a story.

known

is

Well,

on the map.

in

this

At

least it's as

country there was a

vil-

as the village of shoemakers, because nearly

the people

made

shoes.

Peg, peg, peg, could

be

to the other, from morning till of hammers. Into this shower was a perfect night. town came one day a peasant lad of twelve years of age,

Heard from one end of

it

It

with a blue blouse and a queer red flannel cap.

He had

QUEER STORIES.

170

travelled

many

a

weary

mile,

and he asked

at

was taken

tomed went

into the

out, the

work and

he

shop of a hard master, who was accusBut when the master

new boy

said nothing, even

own

red cap.

rest did,

when

the leather was thrown

And somehow he always got more And the master never beat rest.

Hugo, the boy in the red flannel it was because of the charm

said

cap did not throw but attended to his

in the red flannel

about as the

work done than the

neck.

last

to beat his boys severely.

bits of leather

at his

every shop

At

that he might learn the shoemakers' trade.

cap.

The

other boys

that he wore round his

For Hugo wore an old copper coin suspended

like

The master paid a little something for extra work, and for some reason, the boys said on account of his charm, Hugo always had more than the rest. a school-boy's medal.

He

did not spend

it,

but once a year a

man

with a red

Hugo's appeared and received all the overwork, and then went away. The boys

flannel cap like

boy's pay for

made up

minds that Hugo had some sort of witchcopper coin. After some years his apprentice-

their

craft in his

Hugo became a journeyman, working in same quiet way and doing more work than any other man in the village, though he did not work any faster.

ship expired, and

the

Meantime

several of his brothers,

quiet way, had appeared, and sat

same shop.

each with the same

down

Each of them wore the red

to

work

in the

flannel cap with

a tassel, and each of them had a copper coin about his

THE shoemaker's SECRET.

171

Hugo had

disappeared for a few days once, and had brought back a wife. His brothers Hved in his house. Soon he set up a shop. As the other shoemakers were neck.

charm, he had neither apprentice nor journeyman except his brothers. Fortunately there were no less than ten of them, all with red flannel caps and blue afraid of his

blouses, and

wearing copper coins about their necks. But Hugo's shop turned out more than any other. The dealers over the border, when there was an order to be " Send to Hugo, he wears a quickly filled, always said, charm."

At

last there

came a war.

The king

of the country in

which the "village of shoemakers" was, sent a herald into the town, who proclaimed that if the village would furnish a certain

number of shoes

for the

army by a given

daj, the

young men should be exempt from

but that

if

and

the village failed, every

old, should

be marched

man

in the

off into

conscription

;

town, young

the army.

There

was a great cry, for the task appeared to be an impossible one.

Whether

it

was

a superstitious reverence

for

Hugo's charm, or that in trouble they naturally depended on him, certain it is that the crowd by common consent gathered before the shop-door of the silent shoemaker in For so busy had the blue blouse and red flannel cap.

Hugo been

that he

had not heard the herald's proclama-

tion.

"Neighbors,"

said

Hugo, "this

is

a great waste of

QUEER STORIES.

1/2

We

have a very few days to do a great work, one hour wasted already. Every journeyman and here and apprentice is here idle. Let every one of them retime.

is

turn to their benches and go to work.

my

step into

men

little

hastened

them, and

off,

the street.

He

He

charge of the whole village as did not allow a man to be seen on

set the

He

as they could.

in

women

last

day given by the king it was

near, the masters were about to give up, for

drew

found that every shop was

But Hugo

sternly told

When

places.

man

work doing such work

at

did not allow a shop to close until far

But as the

into the night.

The journeywork between

the masters divided the

Hugo was put

one great shop.

Let the masters

house here to consult."

behind

its

to hold their

proportion.

men

in their

the last night came, he did not allow a

When

to sleep.

falling

them

morning came he made the women

count the shoes from each shop, but kept the men at work. As the accounts were made up, it was found that each

shop and

fell

behind.

women were

came

last.

made

just

ciency.

It

The men

work

in despair at last,

crying in the streets.

was found that he and

enough over

The

quit

their share to

whole village hailed

him

Hugo's shop had

his brothers

make up

the defi-

as their deliverer,

and everybody said that it was because of his charm. When the war was over the king came to the village to thank the

shoemakers

peared before him.

for their aid.

When

All but

Hugo

ap-

he heard of Hugo's conduct

THE shoemaker's SECRET. he sent

him.

for

you are the done.

"They man who had

173

me," said the king, "that

tell

the required

number

of shoes

They say that you and your ten brothers wear

charms.

Tell

me your

secret."

Hugo, holding his red Sire, when I was a lad

flannel cap in his hand,

began had children. my many I left my mountain home, and came here to earn someThese my ten brothers came thing to help support them. after me. When each one left, our good mother hung a "

copper coin about

you are going

among you

to a

and

town where there

the shoemakers, masters

Remember that is much idleness *

said,

Whenever remem-

and men.

are tempted to be idle or to be discouraged,

ber what sire,

his neck,

:

father

the

'

KEEP PEGGING AWAY Behold, charm by which we have succeeded, by which I

we saved

tell

you,

!

the village from your wrath, and your land

from destruction."

And

after that there

might have been seen

in the king's

importance, ten men in blue blouses and red flannel caps, wearing each a copper coin

employ,

in various affairs of

about his neck.

When Sampson story, the ler's

had stammered

boys agreed to meet

house.

his

way through

this

Tom

Mil-

for the winter in

Modern

Fables.

FLAT TAIL, THE BEAVER.

COLONY

A -^^-

of beavers selected a beautiful spot on a

clear stream, called Silver Creek, to build

them-

Without waiting for any orders, and without any wrangling about whose place was the best, they gnawed down some young trees and laid the foundaselves a habitation.

dam.

tion for a

With

that skill for which they are so re-

markable, they built it so that it would protect them from cold, from water, and from their foes. When it was completed, they were delighted with it, and paddled

round joyously

in the

pond above, expressing

ure to each other in true beaver

style.

In this colony there was one

name

of Flat Tail.

their pleas-

His father,

young beaver, by the whose name was Mud

Dauber, had been a celebrated beaver, who, having very superior teeth, could ity.

Old

gnaw through

Mud Dauber

trees with great rapid-

had distinguished himself chiefly, dam on three separate occasions

saving the

however, by in time of flood. prudence,

He had done

always beginning to

by his courage and work as soon as he saw

this

the danger coming, without waiting

become too

great to repair. 12

till

the

damage had

QUEER

178

But

his son, this

As

fellow.

STORIES.

young

long as old

fellow Flat Tail,

Mud Dauber

lived,

was a sorry

he did pretty

well, but as soon as his father died Flat Tail set up for

somebody

great.

Whenever any one questioned

tensions, he always replied

"

am Mud

I

his pre-

:

Dauber's son.

I

belong to the best blood

in the colony."

He for

utterly refused to

gnaw

or build.

He was meant

something better, he said. so one day in autumn, when the beavers were,

And

going out

in

search of food for winter use, as Flat Tail

for nothing else, they set him to mind the dam. After they had started, Flat Tail's uncle, old Mr. Webfoot, turned back and told his nephew to be very watch-

was good

had been a great rain on the head-waters of Silver Creek, and he was afraid there would be a flood. ful,

as there

"Be

very careful," said Webfoot, "about the small

leaks."

" I

am

"

who are you talking to ? Pshaw," said Flat Tail, Mud Dauber's son, and do you think I need your

advice

" ?

After they had gone the stream began to sticks

and leaves were eddying round

in the

rise.

Little

pool above.

Soon the water came up faster, to the great delight of the conceited young beaver, who was pleased with the opportunity to

show the

rest

And though he disliked

what kind of

stuff

he was made

of.

work, he now began to strengthen

FLAT TAIL, THE BEAVER.

dam

the

in the

middle where the water looked the most

But just

threatening.

strongest, and,

I79

in

at

fact,

this

point the

the least

in

dam was

danger.

the

Near the

shore there was a place where the water was already findits

ing

way

through.

A

friendly kingfisher

who

sat

on a

neighboring tree warned him that the water was coming through, but always too conceited to accept of counsel, he answered " Oh, that's only a small leak, and near the shore. What does a kingfisher know about a beaver dam any:

way

You

!

needn't advise

Dauber's son. in the

I

me

shall fight the

!

I

am

the great

Mud

stream bravely, right here

worst of the flood."

But Flat Tail soon found that the water

in the

pond

was

falling. Looking round for the cause, he saw that the small leak had broken away a large portion of the dam,

and that the torrent was rushing through

it

wildly.

Poor

now worked

like a hero, throwing himself wildly be carried away below and forced to walk up again on the shore. His efforts were of no avail, and had not the rest of the Silver Creek beaver family

Flat Tail

into the water only to

come along

at that time, their

stock of provisions would

home and

alike

their winter's

have been destroyed.

Next day there was much beaver laughter over Flat

Tail's

repairs on the strong part of the dam, and the name that before had been a credit to him was turned into a re-

proach,

for

from that day the beavers called him,

in

l80

QUEER STORIES.

derision,

"

Mud

Dauber's son, the best blood

in

the

colony."

Don't neglect a danger because it is small don't boast and don't be too conceited to re;

of what your father did ceive

good

advice.

;

THE MOCKING-BIRD'S SINGING-SCHOOL.

A

LADY to her

brought a mocking-bird from

home

in the

the neighborhood looked upon chill

northern air

made

At

North. it

New

first all

Orleans

the birds in

with contempt.

The

the poor bird homesick, and for

a few days he declined to sing for anybody. " Well, I do declare," screamed out Miss Guinea-fowl,

"to see the It don't

care our mistress takes of that

seem

to be able to sing a note.

music than that myself. atic.

Pot-rack

pot-rack

Indeed, !

my

pot-rack

!

bird.

make more

can

voice "

!

I

homely is

quite oper-

and the empty-

headed Miss Guinea-fowl nearly cracked her own throat, and the ears of everybody else, with her screams. And the great vain peacock spread his sparkling tail-feathers in the sun, and looked with annihilating scorn on the dull

" Daddy Longlegs," plumage of the poor mocking-bird. the Shanghai rooster, crowed louder than ever, with one eye on the poor jaded bird, and said: "What a con" Gander temptible little thing you are, to be sure !

White, Esq., the portly barn-yard alderman, hissed at him, and even Duck Waddler, the tadpole catcher, called

him a quack.

1

QUEER STORIES.

82

But wise old Dr. " Wait and

see.

Parrot,

some people think." There came a day

at last

when

Daddy Longlegs crowed

warm.

next cage,

the

in

said

:

There's more under a brown coat than

the sun shone out

hoarsely his delight, the

peacock tried his musical powers by shouting Ne-onk ne-onk and Duck Waddler quacked away more ridicu!

!

lously than ever.

Just then the mocking-bird ruffled his

brown neck-feathers and began of

all

up

to sing.

the song-birds of the South

in that

one

little

All the melody

seemed

to

be bottled

bosom. Even Miss Guinea-fowl had " to her hideous

sense enough to stop

operatic

pot-rack,"

wonderful sweetness of the stranger's song. with his own singing, the bird began cheered Becoming to mimic the hoarse crowing with which Daddy Longlegs

listen to the

wakened him

morning. This set the barn-yard in a roar, and the peacock shouted his applause in a loud " ne-onk " Alas for him, the mocking-bird mimicked in the

!

!

quacked like the duck, and even " " better Miss Guinea-fowl found that he could pot-rack

his hideous cry, then

than she could.

The Shanghai remarked

to the peacock that this young a was remarkable Louisianian acquisition to the commuGander White thought he ought to be elected to nity ;

the city council, and Miss Guinea-fowl remarked that she

had always thought there was something in the young man. Dr. Parrot laughed quietly at this last remark.

THE mocking-bird's SINGING-SCHOOL.

183

The very next day the mocking-bird was asked up a singing-school. The wliole barn-yard was in tion of

improving

to take

the no-

And

the popular capacity to sing.

Daddy Longlegs came

near breaking his neck in his hurry to advocate a measure that he on a barrel-head up saw was likely to be popular.

to get

But

it

did not

come

to anything.

The only song

that

the rooster could ever sing was the one in Mother Goose,

about the dame losing her shoe and the master his fiddlestick, at which Professor Mocking-bird couldn't help smilMr. Peacock, the gentleman of leisure, could do " ne-onk " which made nothing more than his frightful ing.

!

everybody shiver more than a saw-file would. Gander White said he himself had a good ear for music, but a poor voice, while the Hon. Turkey Pompous said he had Dr. Parrot \vas a fine bass voice, but no ear for tune. " " when the whole company heard to say Humbug !

turned to him for an explanation.

He was at

that

moment

taking his morning gymnastic exercise, by swinging him-

from perch to perch, holding on by his beak. he got through, he straightened up and said " In the first of a all made

When

self

:

place,

about

my life him

whom you knew

you

sport

nothing.

I

spent

many

with a learned doctor of divinity, and

I

stranger

years of

often heard

speak severely of the sin of rash judgments.

when you found

that our

desired to sing like him.

new

friend could sing,

Now, he was made

But

you

to

all

sing,

1

QUEER STORIES,

84

rest of us to do something else. You, Mr. Gander White, are good to make feather beds and Hon. Turkey Pompous is good for the next pillows

and each of the

;

Thanksgiving day

good

for

brushes

;

and you, Mr. Peacock

nothing but to grow tail-feathers to make flyBut we all have our use. If we will all do

of.

in our own proper our neighbor. Miss has wasted two hours a day for the

our best to be as useful as

we

sphere,

will

do

Sophie Jones, who last ten years,

better.

we can

There

means

is

trying to learn music,

give her musical talent, while Peter street,

Strutvvell, are

when nature

Thompson,

did not

across the

to starve to death, trying to be a lawyer,

without any talent for

it.

Let us keep

in

our

own proper

spheres."

The company hoped he would say more, but

Dr. Par-

began to exercise again, in order to keep gestion good, and the rest dispersed. rot here

his di-

THE BOBOLINK AND THE OWL. T T AVING eaten his breakfast of ^ ^ hnk thought he would show so he

beech-nuts, a bobo-

himself neighborly over to an old hopped gloomy oak tree, where ;

there sat a hooting owl, and after bowing his head gracefully,

and waving

most friendly manner, he

his tail in the

began chirruping cheerily, somewhat in " Good-morning, Mr. Owl what a !

we have." "Fine!" groaned the owl, see how you can call it fine with

this fashion fine bright

:

morn-

ing

"fine, indeed!

I

don't

that fierce sun glaring in

one's eyes,"

The bobolink was

quite disconcerted

by

this outburst,

but after jumping about nervously from twig to twig for a while, he began again " What a beautiful meadow that is which you can see :

from your south window How sweet the flowers look Really you have a pleasant view, if your house is a little !

!

gloomy." "Beautiful! did you say? Pleasant! What sort of I haven't been able to look out of taste you must have !

that

window

since

May.

The

color of the grass

is

too

1

QUEER STORIES.

86

and the flowers are very

bright,

I

painful.

don't

mind

November, but this morning I must find a shadier place, where the light won't disturb my that view so

much

in

morning nap."

And

so,

with a complaining

"

Hoo

he flapped his melancholy wings and

!

hoo

flitted

!

hoo-ah

away

" !

into the

depths of a swamp. And a waggish old squirrel, who had heard the conversation, asked the bobolink how he could expect any

one to

like beautiful things

who looked

out of such great

staring eyes.

The

pleasantness

of our

more upon the eyes we about

surroundings depends far see with, than upon the objects

us.

THE END.

THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY. By

EDWARD EGGLESTON,

Author of " The Hoosier Schoolmaster,"

With full page

Mr. Eggleston giving to their

is

Illustraiiotis.

I

vol.,

etc.

l2mo

$l.OO

one of the very few American novelists

work a genuine savor

His Roxy, Hoosier Schoolmaster, Circuit Rider, and the native in all their features.

The

who have succeeded

of the soil, a distinctively

scene of the stories

is

American

rest,

in

character.

are home-spun

and

the Western Reserve, and

the characters are types of the pioneers of the early part of this century, in the territory

now comprised

Indiana and Ohio.

in

The Hoosier School boy as its title shows, belongs to the same locality, and depicts some of the characteristics of boy life, years ago, on the Ohio, character,

istics,

however, that were not peculiar to that section only.

The

story presents a

and interesting picture of the difficulties which in those days beset the path of the youth aspiring for an education. These obstacles, which the hero of the story vivid

succeeds by his genuine manliness and force of character in surmounting, are just

such as a majority of the most distinguished Americans, in

all

walks of

life,

including Lincoln and Garfield, have had to contend with, and which they have

made

the stepping stone to their future greatness.

illustrations

add much

Mr. Bush's strong and

life-like

to the attractiveness of the book.

" Edward Eggleston's new story is a thoroughly excellent one to be put in the hands of a boy to become a manly, high-minded American citizen." Philadelphia

whose parents wish him Bulletin.

"A particularly wholesome volume. There is a delightful absence of the goody-good and the incidents are all natural and true to life." Madison (Ind.) Courier. "

Nobody has

This story

is

"It has

one of all

in

it.

pictured boy-life with greater power or more fidelity than Mr. Eggleston. his best it should be in the hands of every boy." Hartford Times.

the peculiarities of

its

author;

his careful reproduction of nature, his vivid as they must have been, from life."

and the naturalness of his characters, drawn, Indianapolis News. descriptions,

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 743

&

745

Publishers,

BROADWAY, NEW YORK.

THE MERRY ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD. OF GREAT RENOWN

NOTTINGHAMSHIRE.

IN

Written and Illustrated by

One volume,

4to, full

Cheaper

There life

is

embossed

edition,

i

leather, antique,

vol., small quarto, cloth

His sunny, open

his generous disposition,

his love of fair play,

it

and

in these episodes in the

matchless

skill at archery,

his ever present courtesy to

in the folk-lore of

any other people.

ballad English has been most successfully preserved in Mr. Pyle's easy

prose, and, as regards the text, this edition

But

$3.00

air nature, his

women, form a picture that has no counterpart

in every

from the author's designs. .$4.50

something thoroughly English and home-bred

of the bold outlaw.

The simple

HOWARD PYLE.

way

is

in all respects the

most complete and

the most desirable that has ever been issued.

has other claims to notice in the admirable illustrations which Mr. Pyle

hes strewn profusely throughout his book.

These pictures

set forth

most graphic-

ally every eventful scene in the narrative, and they are in perfect keeping with the

even to the smallest detail

story,

most admirable and

;

as specimens of figure-drawing they

artistic series that

an American

artist

form the

has created for

many

years.

In them the persons of Robin Hood, Little John, Will Stutely, the Sheriff

of Nottingham, AUan-a-Dale, as familiar as their

names and

Queen Eleanor, Friar Tuck, and

all

the rest,

become

characteristics,

"A

volume that stands at the head of books for the young, both in the attractiveness of its and singular beauty, variety, and antique character of its illustrations. * * * It is a book of varied delight, a credit to the author, illustrator and publisher, and will please every boy who has taste and likes to see a thorough piece of work." Hart/ord Courant. letter-press,

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THE STORY OF SIEGFRIED. By JAMES BALDWIN. With a series i2mo

"To

of superb

illustrations

by Howard Pyle.

One volume,

square

$2.00

wise parents

who

strive, as all parents should do, to regulate and supervise their chilWould there were more of its type and is most earnestly commended.

dren's leading, this book excellence. It has our most hearty approval and recommendation in every way, not only for beauty of illustration, which is of the highest order, but for the fascinating manner in which the The Churchman. old Noise legend is told."

"

What more

calculated to inspire the courage, to elevate the imagination, to mould the conyouth, than these reproductions of the heroic legends of the old Norse and German folk?" Minntapolis Tribune.

duct

of

"

No more

delightful reading for the young can be imagined than that provided in this intermanner of the recital is so graceful that older readers will derive from it

esting book, and the

Boston Saturday .Evening Gazette.

scarcely less pleasure."

" The story

told simply and strongly, preserving the fire and force of the original, and not losing the subtle charm of the old fable with all its pathetic beauty." Brooklyn Union-Argus.

"

It is

is

it comes in among the mass of juvenile books Philadelphia Sunday-School Times.

a good, strong story

from Northern woods."

;

like

a wind blown

THE STORY OF ROLAND. By JAMES BALDWIN. With

a series of illustrations

by R. B.

Birch,

One volume, square i2mo.

.

.

.$2.00

This volume is intended as a companion to The Story of Siegfried. As Siegfiied was an adaptation of Northern myths and romances to the wants and the understanding of young readers, so is this story a similar adaptation of the middleage romances relating to Charlemagne and his paladins. As Siegfried was the greatest of the heroes of the North, so too was Roland the most famous among the While The Story of Siegfried exemplifies the subKnights of the Middle-Ages. lime old-world spirit of the Gothic nature myths, its counterpart. The Story of Roland, is less remote, and the incidents, though equally wonderful, are of a more human character and appeal with greater force to our sympathies.

Mr. Birch has contributed a number of spirited illustrations that bring clearly before the eye the forms of Roland and his friend Oliver, of Ogier, the Dane, and other famous knights and paladins, as well as the scenes of their wondrous exploits

and adventures.

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 743

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BROADWAY, NEW YORK.

THE AMERICAN BOY'S HANDY BOOK; Do and Ho'w

Or, "What to By

DANIEL

Fully illustrated by the author.

C.

to

Do

It.

BEARD.

One volume, 8vo

$3.00

Mr. Beard'' s book is the first to tell the active, inventive and practical American boy the things he really wants to know; the thotisand things he wants to do, and the ten thousand ways in which he can do the?)i, with the helps and itigenious contriwhich evejy boy can either procure or make. The author divides the book the sports of the four seasons and he has made an almost exhaustive collection of the cleverest modern devices, besides himself inventing an immense number of capital and practical ideas in vn?ices

among

a z Q. (0

q: lU

3 (0

;

>

Kite-Making,

Trapping,

Fishing,

Taxidermy,

Aquarium-Making,

Home-Made Hunting

Etc.

]

Apparatus,

z

etc.

Boat-Building,

Ice-Boating,

Boat-Rigging,

Snow-Ball Warfare,

Boat-Sailing,

Winter-Fishing,

Camping-Out,

Sled-Building,

Balloons,

Puppet-Shows,

m

Etc.

Etc.

" We can conceive of few books more useful and instructive to the average boy than this." Troy Times. " This is by far the most intelligible, comprehensive and practical boy's book which we have ever seen." Kingsto?i Freeman. " When a one as this tends to selecting books for a boy it should be remembered that such make hira handy, skillful and self-reliant, and that the boy would probably choose it himself." Boston Globe, " Each

particular department is minutely illustrated, and the whole Is a complete treasury, invaluable not only to the boys themselves, but to parents and guardians who have at heart their happiness and healthful development of mind and muscle." Pittsburgh Telegraph. " The boy who has learned to i>lay all the games and make all the toys of which it teaches, has unconsciously exercised the inventive faculty that is in him, has acquired skill with his hands, hk.. become a good mechanic and an embryo inventor without knowing vening Wisconsin.

and

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 743

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it."

Milwaukee

^

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THE BOY'S LIBRARY OF LEGEND AND CHIVALRY. THE BOY'S PERCY.

Edited with an Introduction by Sidney Lanier. With 50 text and full page i vol., i2mo illustrations by E. B. Bensell. $2.00 " He who walks in the way these following ballads point will be manful in necessary fight, generous to the poor, tender in the household, prudent in living, plain speech, merry upon occasion, simple in behavior, and honest in all tilings." J^rotn Mr.

fair in trade, loyal in love, in

Lanier

s

Introduction

.

KNIGHTLY LEGENDS OF WALES;

THE

or,

BOY'S MABINOGION.

Being the Earliest Welsh Tales of King Arthur in the famous Red Book of Edited for Boys, with an Introduction by Sidney Lanier. With Hergest. One volume, crown 8vo, 12 full-page illustrations by Alfred Fredericks. extra cloth "

Amid

$2.00

the strange and fanciful scenery of these stories, character and the ideals of character remain at the simplest and purest. The romantic history transpires in the healthy atmosthe of The figures of Right, open air on the green earih beneath the open sky. phere Truth, Justice, Honor, Purity, Courage, Reverence for Law are always in the background and the grand passion inspired by the book is for strength to do well and nobly in the world." 'Ike Independent. all

.

.

.

;

THE

BOY'S KING ARTHUR.

Being Sir Thomas Mallory's History of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Edited for Boys, with an Introduction by SIDNEY Lanier. With 12 Table. full-page cloth

by Alfred Kappes.

illustrations

One volume, crown

8vo,

extra

$2po

" Unconsciously as he reads of the brave deeds wrought by the gallant soldiers told of bv Froissart or fancied by Mallory, the boy's heart is thrilled and his higher nature throbs witn knightly longings. He craves for himself the sturdy courage of Bevis of Hampton, the courtly grace of Launcelot, the purity of Gallahad and he hates with an honest hatred that unleal scoundrel. King Mark. He learns that he should protect those who are less strong than he is himself that a man should never be rude to a woman ; that truth must never be sacrificed, and that the most cowardly thing that a man can do is to flinch from his duty." Philadelphia. ;

;

Times.

THE Being

Sir

John

France,

Lanier.

BOY'S FROISSART.

and Custom in England, Edited for Boys, with an Introduction by SIDNEY With 12 full-page illustrations by Alfred Kappes. One volume, Froissart's Chronicles of Adventure, Battle

Spain,

etc.

crown 8vo, extra cloth "

$2.00

* * * Mr. quite the beau ideal of a book for a present to an intelligent boy or girl. Sidney Lanier, in editing a boy's version of Froissart, has not only opened to them a world of romantic and poetic legend of the chivalric and heroic sort, but he has given them something Baltimore Gazette. which ennobles and does not poison the mind It is

*^* In sets.

Four volumes put up

in

a box, uniform binding, $7.

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WILLIAM

STODDARD S CAPITAL

O.

STORIES FOR BOYS.

The Boston

Globe says of Mr. Stoddard's books for boys

:

"It was a bold attempt, in the face of the great success of sensational literature for the young, to seek to bend boys to self-reliance, duty and honor, by interesting them in the incidents and

rewards of manly boy-life at home and at school, and in its games and spcrts and a good deal of knowledge of boy character, of sympathy with boy nature, and skill in reaching boy interest, and regard, wee required to accomplish his purpose. The plan was a noble one, and its results are a triumph which shows that it is possible, without thrilling adventure on the ocean or in We tern wilds, in exciting scenes of peril and death, or unnatural and bad characters and situations, to secure the earnest attention cf boys and their approval." ;

SALTILLO BOYS. One volume, i2mo

$i.oo

"The and

story appeals to boys, not only on their better side, but on the side which The Independent. highest in the boy view of the matter."

is

strongest

DAB KINZER. ,

"

i2mo

written in that peculiarly hnppy vein which enchants while it instructs, an ia one of those thoroughly excellent bits of juvenile liteiature which now and then crop out fro n the sur" face of a mass of common-place Philadel/ihia Press. It is

1

THE QUARTET. -A.

Sc3."Liel to "iDELt)

IKLxxxzei",'"'

One volume, i2mo "

The Quartet

a favorite

$i.oo

marked by all the brightness and incident which made with the boys." Ejcaminer and Chronicle. is

'

Dab Kinzer

'

such

AMONG THE LAKES. One volume, i2mo

$i.oo

Mr. Stoddard's

bright, sympathetic story, Among the Lakes, is a fitting companion to his other books. It has the same flavor of happy, boyish country life, brimful of humor and abounding with incident and the various adventures of

healthy, well-conditioned boys turned loose in the country, with of woods and water and their own unspoiled natures.

V

Mr.

Stoddard's

stories,

and

in uniform binding, in

a box.

They

are especially

&

recommended

745

are furnished in sets,

Price, $4.00. for

Sunday-school

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 743

the resources

DAB KINZER, THE QUARTET,

AMONG THE LAKES,

SALTILLO BOYS,

all

libraries.

Publishers,

BROADWAY, NEW YORK.

NOAH BROOKS' OUT-OF-DOOR STORIES FOR BOYS. THE FAIRPORT By

NINE.

NOAH BROOKS,

Author of " The Boy Emigrants."

One volume, i2mo

$1.25

" White Fairport Nine have their closely contested base-ball matches with the Bears," and the description will bring vividly before every lover of that manly sport similar scenes in

The

But they also have their Fourth of July frolic, their military company, woods, and the finding of hidden treasure, with many boyish episodes, in which are faithfully portrayed the characteristic features of American boys' life in the country. It is a capital story, with a manly and healthful tone, and will go straight to a boy's heart. " As a thoroughly wholesome and delightful book for boys, The Fairport Nine is not likely It is published, moreover, in an attractive form, with a taking to have its superior this season. which he has shared. their

camp

in the

'

cover and frontispiece."

A''.

Y.

'

Evening Mail.

THE BOY EMIGRANTS. By One volume, x2mo,

W.

cloth.

L. Sheppard,

New

NOAH BROOKS. edition.

With

Illustrations

by Thomas Moran,

and others

$1.50

" " The Boy Emigrants is a story of the adventures of a party of young gold seekers on the Overland Emigrant Route, and in California, during the early rush to the mines. Since the author was himself an emigrant of this description, the scenes and incidents are drawn from life, and the book may be accepted as a fresh and vivid picture of life on the Plains and in the mines from an entirely novel point of view.

"

It is one of the best boy's stories we have ever read. There is nothing morbid or unhealthy about it. The author sets before his readers no impossible goodness or unattainable perfection. His heroes are thorough boys, with all the faults of their age." Christian at Work.

" We do not think we have had so far any painting of the scenes on the Plains in the early days of the emigration to this State which, artistically, will at all compare with that dashed off by Mr. Brooks. The sketches of mining adventures which subsequently occurred have the rare merit of being true to the life and the fact," San Francisco Bulletin,

CHARLES SCRIBNER^S SONS. 743

&

745

Publishers,

BROADWAY, NEW YORK.

MRS. MARY MAPCS DODG'S CHARMING BOOKS. A

NEW ILLUSTRATED

HANS BRINKER

;

or,

EDITION OF

the

Silver

Stox-y of I-ilfe' ion. HolletxiciBy Mrs. MARY MAPES DODGE,

-A..

Author of ^'Rhymes and yingles" and Editor of

With twelve

Skates.

full-page illustrations.

One

vol.

i2mo,

'^St.

Nicholas."

cloth, beveled edges.

.

.

.$1.50

" For children, what could be better as a gift than a copy of Mrs. Dodge's 'Hans Brinker ; which we are now given a new and beautiful edition ? This is one of the

or, the Silver Skates,' of

most charming of juvenile stories, dealing with fresh scenes and a strange life, and told with sweet and great beauty." Con^regationalist. " Hans Brinker is a charming domestic story, which is addressed, indeed, to young people, * * but which may be read with pleasure and profit by their elders. The lessons inculcated, are elevated in tone, and are in the action of the story and the feelings and aspirations of the actors." The Atlantic Monthly simplicity '

'

.

"

This book has been a great favorite, not only in America but in other lands. The author has every reason to be gratified at the success and constant popularity of this charming narrative, which teaches so finely the noblest lessons of character and life, while picturing the customs and scenes of Holland." Boston Advertiser.

RHYMES AND JINGLES. By Mrs.

MARY MAPES DODGE,

Editor of "Si. Nicholas.'^ Profusely illustrated. There are

One

in this collection

vol. small quarto, extra cloth, a

new

edition

nonsense rhymes and verses of the soundest sense

$1.50 ;

there are

for little folks, and stories in verse for those who are older, while some of the so-called rhymes include verses which are as truly poetical as anything in the language. Some of these poems have been pronounced " without rivals in our language." In the new brief bits of

wisdom

now published, Mrs. Dodge has made a careful revision of the work. have a copy of these witty and beautiful verses. edition

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 743

&

745

Every child should

Publishers,

BROADWAY, NEW YORK.

GODFREY MORGAN. A CALIFORNIA MYSTERY. By JULES VERNE. One volume. i2mo illustrations. $2.00 this time finds scope for its vagaries in the CaliVerne's fancy cyclopedic Jules fomian Eldorado, among the millionaires of absolutely limitless resources, who, the French romancer would have us believe, form a large class of the population

With numerous

around the Golden Gate. Nevertheless, the story is of the Crusoe order, and is concerned with the adventures of the restless young Californian, Godfrey Morgan, and his companion, the dancing-master. Tartlet, upon a strange island where they have been wrecked. The story is one of the most amazing efforts of Verne's genius, and ceitainly lacks neither interest nor amusement. The illustrations are very numerous and equal the text in force and character.

PHAETON ROGERS. One volume. i2mo.

By RossiTER Johnson.

With

illustrations

$1.50.

boy and his colleagues who investigate the mysteries of the art preservative, are full of delightful humor, in which the oldest member of the family can sympathize," Minneapolis Journal. " One of the funniest, liveliest juvenile stories of the year is Phaeton Rogers,' by Rossiter as Johnson. The writer shows as much ingenuity in inventing comical adventures and situations Phaeton does with his kite-teams, fire-ladders, and comets." Holyoie Tratiscript.

"As

for

'

Phaeton Rogers,' the adventures

of that remarkable

'

NEW EDITION A T REDUCED PRICE.

A

ABOUT OLD STORY-TELLERS. HOW AND WHEN THEY

OF

TOLD. By Donald elor," etc., etc.

LIVED,

G. Mitchell.

With numerous

AND WHAT STORIES THEY

Author

illustrations.

of

" The Reveries of One volume, i2mo.

a Bach.

.

.$1.25.

Mr. Mitchell's literary style, so chaste, simple and pure, is admirably adapted for this kind entire sucof writing, and he employs his facile and congenial pen, in the present instance, with ' About Old Story-Tellers' is made up cf the best of the old stories, gathered from all cess. interwoven with lively sketches of the sources, re-told in Mr. Mitche'l's inimitable manner, and '

viginal writers and the times in which they flourished."

-VVw Haven Journal and Courier.

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 743

&

745

Publishers,

BROADWAY, NEW YORK,

FRANK

STOCKTON'S POPULAR STORIES.

R.

" Stockton has the knack, perhaps genius would be a better word, of writing in the easiest of The very

colloquial English without descending to the plane of the vulgar or common-place. perfection of his work hinders the reader from perceiving at once how good of its kind

a

s

it is.

*

*

charm of a most delicate humor a real humor, mellow, tender, and informed by ngularly quaint and racy fancy his stories become irresistibly attractive." Philadelphia

With

the added

Xifues.

A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP. By Frank R. Stockton, author

of

"Rudder Grange."

Illustrated,

i

i2mo, extra cloth

vol.,

$1.50

THE FLOATING

PRINCE,

By Frank

With

AND OTHER FAIRY

TALES. R.

Stockton.

quarto, Boards,

New

NEW

Edition.

illustrations

by Bensell and

others,

i

Price reduced to

vol.,

$1.50

EDITIONS OF OLD FAVORITES.

THE TING-A-LING TALES. By Frank R. Stockton.

Illustrated

by E.

B. Bensell.

i

vol.,

i2mo

$1.00

ROUNDABOUT RAMBLES IN LANDS OF FACT AND FICTION. By Frank R. Stockton,

i

vol., 410, boards,

covc r, 3 70pages, 200 illustrations.

with very attractive lithographed Price reduced from $3 to $1. 50

A new edition.

TALES OUT OF SCHOOL. One volume,

By Frank R. Stockton. cover, 350 pages,

from $3

4to, boards,

nearly 200 illustrations.

A

with handsome lithographed Price reduced edition.

new

$[.50

to

"^The Roundabout Rambles and T,rles Out 0/ School are two large handsome volumes, full of stories of home, travel and adventure, and the elegance and finish of the engravings can sca'c ly be surpassed in juvenile literature. Without and within, they are a treasury of beauty a;id

ei

joymeiit for the children."

St.

Paul Pioneer.

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 743

&

745

BROADWAY, NEW

Publishers, YORK.

STANDARD BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.

TRAVEL, HISTORY, SCIENCE AND ART. A

NEW EDITION A T REDUCED PRICE.

BAYARD TAYLOR'S LIBRARY OF TRAVEL. 6 Vols.^ Square 12nio,taith

many

illustrations.

CENTRAL

Price per

Handsomely bound.

THE LAKE REGIONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA. SIAM, the" land of THE WHITE

JAPAN IN OUR DAY. TRAVELS IN ARABIA. TRAVELS IN SOUTH AFRICA.

_____

ASIA. ELEPHANT. set, in a box, or sold separately at $1.23 per volume.

$6.00

EPOCHS OF HISTORY. "

These volumes contain the The Nation. respective fields."

EPOCHS OF MODERN

H,

THE ERA OF PROTESTANT REVO_ LUTION. THE CRUSADES. THE THIRTY YEARS' 'WAR, 1618-1648. THE HOUSES OF LANCASTER AND YORK. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND FIRST EMPIRE. THE AGE OF ELIZABETH. THE FALL OF THE STUARTS. THE PURITAN REVOLUTION. THE EARLY PLANTAGENETS. AGE OF ANNE. THE BEGINNING OF THE MIDDLE AGES. THE NORMANS IN EUROPE. FREDERICK THE GREAT AND THE SEVEN YEARS' WAR. THE EPOCH OF REFORM, 1830-1850 The same in

sets,

men who

ripe results of the studies of

STORY.

Moxburgh binding,

are authorities in tit

EPOCHS OF ANCIENT HISTORY.

THE GREEKS AND THE PERSIANS THE ATHENIAN EMPIRE. THE MACEDONIAN EMPIRE. EARLY ROME. THE GRACCHI, MARIUS AND SULLA THE ROMAN TRIUMVIRATES. THE EARLY EMPIRE, THE AGE OF THE ANTONINES. ROME AND CARTHAGE. TROY. THE SPARTAN AND THEBAN SUPREMACY.

(In press.)

Each one vol., IGmo, with Maps. Each volume coinplete in itsflf, and sold separately. Price per vol., in cloth, $1 OO ***

giit top, at the rate

of $1,00 per vol.

ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY OF WONDERS. The

First Series Comprises Illus. 26

WONDERFUL ESCAPES

BODILY STRENGTH AND SKILL. .70 BALLOON ASCENTS 30 22 GREAT HUNTS EGYPT 3,300 YEARS AGO 4 THE SUN. By Guillemin 58 WONDERS OF HEAT 93 OPTICAL WONDERS 71 no WONDERS OF ACOUSTICS

THE HEAVENS

48

:

THE HUMAN BODY.. THE SUBLIME IN NATURE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS THUNDER AND LIGHTNING BOTTOM OF THE SEA ITALIAN ART EUROPEAN ART ARCHITECTURE

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, &

743

$1.25 2e.oo

Publishers,

BROADWAY, NEW YORK.

43 44 54 39 68

28 4

60 63 2a

GLASS-MAKING WONDERS OF POMPEII

Friee per single vol., cloth, The same, insets of 20 vols., cloth, with a rach,

743

lilus.

.

THE VTORKS OF JULES VERNE. THE COMPLETE AND AUTHORIZED EDITIONS. JULES VERNE'S GREA TEST WORK

THE EXPLORATION OF THE WORLD. Three volumes, 8vo, extra volume The work I.

cloth, with loo full-page engravings in each.

$3.50!

includes three divisions, each in one volume complete in

Famous Travels and Travellers. II. The Great Navigators. III. The Explorers Each volume

in the series

"

Price per

is

itself.

of the Nineteenth Century.

very fully illustrated with full-page engravings by French TRAVELS " is made

arti t^

FAMOUS

of note ; and the volume of still more interesting by many fac-similes from the original prints in old voyages, atlases, etc. " Even if truth were not stranger than fict on, to the healthful mind it ought to be far moie Such works as this are not only entertaining and informing, but their whole aimcsfascinating. phere is bracing. They are as much better than sentimental heart histories or imaginary pcr:5onal experiences as a day in the open air is better than a day in a close and crowded apartment." y. N, Observer. ' The book may very well be a favorite at the holiday time, but it has permanent worth and permanent interest also, which will give it a place in well-selected libraries." N. Y. Evening Fast.

JULES VERNE'S OTHER WORKS. Michael Strogoff;

the Courier

or,

of the Czar. Profusely illustrated after New edidesigns by Riou. i vol., 8vo. tion $2.00

The Mysterious

Island.

Vol. I. Vol. II. Aban-

Dropped from the Clouds. doned. Vol. III. The Secret of the Island. The complete work in i vol. with 150 illustrations. 8vo $3.00

A

Journey to the Centre of the

Earth. With 52 full-page illustrations, i vol., 8vo $3.00

Stories of Adventure. "

" Meridiana," and

Centre of the Earth." trations.

A

I

vol.,

Comprising

A

i2mo

Journey

the

to

68 full-page illus$1.50

Floating City, and the Blockade Runners. vol., SvO.,

With numerous extra

cloth,

illustrations,

gilt.

tion)

(New

i

edi-

$2.00

Hector Servadac of a

trations.

I

743

745

or,

The Career full-page illus-

vol., 8vo, elegantly

bound (new f 2.00

edition)

From the Earth

to the

Moon

Di-

in Ninety-Seven Hours, Twenty Minutes; and a Journey Around it. i vol.,

rect

i2mo

$1-55

Dick Sands.

Superbly illustrated by

100 full-page cuts,

i

vol.,

8vo

$3.00

The Demon of the

of Cawnpore. (Part 1, Steam House). Illustrated, i vol,

i2mo

$1.5'-

Tigers and Traitors. Steam House). i2mo the

Eight

(Part II. of

Illustrated,

i vol.,

$'.50

Hundred Leagues on the

Amazon.

(Part

Illustrated,

I.

i vol.,

of

the Giant Paf' $1.50 .

i2mo

The Cryptogram.

(Part II. of the Giant Raft). Illustrated, i vol., i2mo Si. 50

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, &

;

With over 100

Comet.

Publishers,

BROADWAY, NEW YORK.

."^ 19b3

'''

-

^

mn

\i

f

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CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET UNIVERSITY OF

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