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diff --git a/22519-h/22519-h.htm b/22519-h/22519-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1993725 --- /dev/null +++ b/22519-h/22519-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3828 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Christmas Every Day, and Other Stories, by W. D. Howells. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + text-decoration: none; + font-weight: normal; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 3%;} + + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; + font-style: normal;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Christmas Every Day and Other Stories, by W. D. Howells + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Christmas Every Day and Other Stories + +Author: W. D. Howells + +Release Date: September 5, 2007 [EBook #22519] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY *** + + + + +Produced by Susan Skinner, David Edwards and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain material +produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"> +<h1><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="375" height="600" alt="CHRISTMAS +EVERY DAY +AND OTHER +STORIES + +BY +W. D. HOWELLS" title="" /></h1> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 749px;"><a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="749" height="600" alt="“HAVING BONFIRES IN THE BACK YARD OF THE PALACE.” [Page 130." title="" /> +<span class="caption">“HAVING BONFIRES IN THE BACK YARD OF THE PALACE.” [Page <a href="#Page_130">130</a>.</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;"> +<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="361" height="600" alt="Title Page" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1><span style="font-size: 120%;">CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY</span><br /> +AND OTHER STORIES<br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%">TOLD FOR CHILDREN</span><br /> +<span class="smcap" style="font-size: 60%">By W. D. Howells</span></h1> + + +<p class="center">NEW YORK AND LONDON<br /> +HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class='center'>Copyright, 1892, by W. D. <span class="smcap">Howells</span>.</p> + +<p class='center'><i>All rights reserved.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHRISTMAS_EVERY_DAY">CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#TURKEYS_TURNING_THE">TURKEYS TURNING THE TABLES</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_PONY_ENGINE_AND_THE">THE PONY ENGINE AND THE PACIFIC EXPRESS</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_PUMPKIN-GLORY">THE PUMPKIN-GLORY</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BUTTERFLYFLUTTERBY_AND">BUTTERFLYFLUTTERBY AND FLUTTERBYBUTTERFLY</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='right' colspan='2'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“Having Bonfires in the Back Yard of the Palace”</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“The Old Gobbler ‘First Premium’ said They were Going to +Turn the Tables Now”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_1">35</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Two Little Pumpkin Seeds</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_2">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Took the First Premium at the County Fair</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_3">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“‘Here's that little fool pumpkin,’ said the farmer”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_4">85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“Caught His Trousers on a Shingle-nail, and Stuck”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_5">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“‘My sakes! it's comin' to life!’”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_6">103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Tail-piece</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_7">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“‘Fix dusters! Make ready! Aim! Dust!’”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_8">121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“The General-in-Chief used to go behind the Church and +Cry”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_9">125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“The Young Khan and Khant entered the Kingdom with a +Magnificent Retinue”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_10">131</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“She was Going to Take the Case into Her own Hands”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_11">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“The Imam put His Head to the Floor”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_12">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>“They began to scream, ‘Oh, the cow! the cow!’”</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#illus_13">143</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_EVERY_DAY" id="CHRISTMAS_EVERY_DAY"></a>CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY.</h2> + + +<p>The little girl came into her papa's +study, as she always did Saturday morning +before breakfast, and asked for a +story. He tried to beg off that morning, +for he was very busy, but she would not +let him. So he began:</p> + +<p>“Well, once there was a little pig—”</p> + +<p>She put her hand over his mouth and +stopped him at the word. She said she +had heard little pig-stories till she was +perfectly sick of them.</p> + +<p>“Well, what kind of story <i>shall</i> I tell, +then?”</p> + +<p>“About Christmas. It's getting to be +the season. It's past Thanksgiving already.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p>“It seems to me,” her papa argued, +“that I've told as often about Christmas +as I have about little pigs.”</p> + +<p>“No difference! Christmas is more +interesting.”</p> + +<p>“Well!” Her papa roused himself from +his writing by a great effort. “Well, +then, I'll tell you about the little girl +that wanted it Christmas every day in +the year. How would you like that?”</p> + +<p>“First-rate!” said the little girl; and +she nestled into comfortable shape in +his lap, ready for listening.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then, this little pig—Oh, +what are you pounding me for?”</p> + +<p>“Because you said little pig instead +of little girl.”</p> + +<p>“I should like to know what's the +difference between a little pig and a +little girl that wanted it Christmas every +day!”</p> + +<p>“Papa,” said the little girl, warningly, +“if you don't go on, I'll <i>give</i> it to +you!” And at this her papa darted off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +like lightning, and began to tell the +story as fast as he could.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, once there was a little girl who +liked Christmas so much that she wanted +it to be Christmas every day in the +year; and as soon as Thanksgiving was +over she began to send postal-cards to +the old Christmas Fairy to ask if she +mightn't have it. But the old fairy +never answered any of the postals; and +after a while the little girl found out +that the Fairy was pretty particular, and +wouldn't notice anything but letters—not +even correspondence cards in envelopes; +but real letters on sheets of paper, +and sealed outside with a monogram—or +your initial, anyway. So, then, she +began to send her letters; and in about +three weeks—or just the day before +Christmas, it was—she got a letter from +the Fairy, saying she might have it +Christmas every day for a year, and then +they would see about having it longer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>The little girl was a good deal excited +already, preparing for the old-fashioned, +once-a-year Christmas that was coming +the next day, and perhaps the Fairy's +promise didn't make such an impression +on her as it would have made at some +other time. She just resolved to keep it +to herself, and surprise everybody with +it as it kept coming true; and then it +slipped out of her mind altogether.</p> + +<p>She had a splendid Christmas. She +went to bed early, so as to let Santa +Claus have a chance at the stockings, +and in the morning she was up the first +of anybody and went and felt them, and +found hers all lumpy with packages of +candy, and oranges and grapes, and +pocket-books and rubber balls, and all +kinds of small presents, and her big +brother's with nothing but the tongs in +them, and her young lady sister's with +a new silk umbrella, and her papa's and +mamma's with potatoes and pieces of coal +wrapped up in tissue-paper, just as they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +always had every Christmas. Then she +waited around till the rest of the family +were up, and she was the first to burst +into the library, when the doors were +opened, and look at the large presents +laid out on the library-table—books, and +portfolios, and boxes of stationery, and +breastpins, and dolls, and little stoves, +and dozens of handkerchiefs, and ink-stands, +and skates, and snow-shovels, +and photograph-frames, and little easels, +and boxes of water-colors, and Turkish +paste, and nougat, and candied cherries, +and dolls' houses, and waterproofs—and +the big Christmas-tree, lighted and standing +in a waste-basket in the middle.</p> + +<p>She had a splendid Christmas all day. +She ate so much candy that she did not +want any breakfast; and the whole forenoon +the presents kept pouring in that +the expressman had not had time to deliver +the night before; and she went +round giving the presents she had got +for other people, and came home and ate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +turkey and cranberry for dinner, and +plum-pudding and nuts and raisins and +oranges and more candy, and then went +out and coasted, and came in with a +stomach-ache, crying; and her papa +said he would see if his house was turned +into that sort of fool's paradise another +year; and they had a light supper, +and pretty early everybody went to +bed cross.</p></div> + +<p>Here the little girl pounded her papa +in the back, again.</p> + +<p>“Well, what now? Did I say pigs?”</p> + +<p>“You made them <i>act</i> like pigs.”</p> + +<p>“Well, didn't they?”</p> + +<p>“No matter; you oughtn't to put it +into a story.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, then, I'll take it all out.”</p> + +<p>Her father went on:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The little girl slept very heavily, and +she slept very late, but she was wakened +at last by the other children dancing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +round her bed with their stockings full +of presents in their hands.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” said the little girl, and +she rubbed her eyes and tried to rise up +in bed.</p> + +<p>“Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!” +they all shouted, and waved their stockings.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! It was Christmas yesterday.”</p> + +<p>Her brothers and sisters just laughed. +“We don't know about that. It's Christmas +to-day, anyway. You come into +the library and see.”</p> + +<p>Then all at once it flashed on the little +girl that the Fairy was keeping her +promise, and her year of Christmases +was beginning. She was dreadfully +sleepy, but she sprang up like a lark—a +lark that had overeaten itself and gone +to bed cross—and darted into the library. +There it was again! Books, and portfolios, +and boxes of stationery, and +breastpins—</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You needn't go over it all, papa; I +guess I can remember just what was +there,” said the little girl.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, and there was the Christmas-tree +blazing away, and the family picking +out their presents, but looking pretty +sleepy, and her father perfectly puzzled, +and her mother ready to cry. “I'm sure +I don't see how I'm to dispose of all +these things,” said her mother, and her +father said it seemed to him they had +had something just like it the day before, +but he supposed he must have +dreamed it. This struck the little girl +as the best kind of a joke; and so she +ate so much candy she didn't want any +breakfast, and went round carrying +presents, and had turkey and cranberry +for dinner, and then went out and coasted, +and came in with a—</p></div> + +<p>“Papa!”</p> + +<p>“Well, what now?”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What did you promise, you forgetful +thing?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! oh yes!”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, the next day, it was just the +same thing over again, but everybody +getting crosser; and at the end of a +week's time so many people had lost +their tempers that you could pick up +lost tempers anywhere; they perfectly +strewed the ground. Even when people +tried to recover their tempers they usually +got somebody else's, and it made +the most dreadful mix.</p> + +<p>The little girl began to get frightened, +keeping the secret all to herself; she +wanted to tell her mother, but she didn't +dare to; and she was ashamed to ask the +Fairy to take back her gift, it seemed +ungrateful and ill-bred, and she thought +she would try to stand it, but she hardly +knew how she could, for a whole year. +So it went on and on, and it was Christmas +on St. Valentine's Day and Wash<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>ington's +Birthday, just the same as any +day, and it didn't skip even the First +of April, though everything was counterfeit +that day, and that was some <i>little</i> +relief.</p> + +<p>After a while coal and potatoes began +to be awfully scarce, so many had been +wrapped up in tissue-paper to fool papas +and mammas with. Turkeys got to be +about a thousand dollars apiece—</p></div> + +<p>“Papa!”</p> + +<p>“Well, what?”</p> + +<p>“You're beginning to fib.”</p> + +<p>“Well, <i>two</i> thousand, then.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>And they got to passing off almost +anything for turkeys—half-grown humming-birds, +and even rocs out of the +<i>Arabian Nights</i>—the real turkeys were +so scarce. And cranberries—well, they +asked a diamond apiece for cranberries. +All the woods and orchards were cut +down for Christmas-trees, and where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +the woods and orchards used to be it +looked just like a stubble-field, with the +stumps. After a while they had to +make Christmas-trees out of rags, and +stuff them with bran, like old-fashioned +dolls; but there were plenty of rags, because +people got so poor, buying presents +for one another, that they couldn't +get any new clothes, and they just wore +their old ones to tatters. They got so +poor that everybody had to go to the +poor-house, except the confectioners, and +the fancy-store keepers, and the picture-book +sellers, and the expressmen; and +<i>they</i> all got so rich and proud that they +would hardly wait upon a person when +he came to buy. It was perfectly shameful!</p> + +<p>Well, after it had gone on about three +or four months, the little girl, whenever +she came into the room in the morning +and saw those great ugly, lumpy stockings +dangling at the fire-place, and the +disgusting presents around everywhere,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +used to just sit down and burst out crying. +In six months she was perfectly +exhausted; she couldn't even cry any +more; she just lay on the lounge and +rolled her eyes and panted. About the +beginning of October she took to sitting +down on dolls wherever she found them—French +dolls, or any kind—she hated +the sight of them so; and by Thanksgiving +she was crazy, and just slammed +her presents across the room.</p> + +<p>By that time people didn't carry presents +around nicely any more. They flung +them over the fence, or through the +window, or anything; and, instead of +running their tongues out and taking +great pains to write “For dear Papa,” +or “Mamma,” or “Brother,” or “Sister,” +or “Susie,” or “Sammie,” or “Billie,” or +“Bobbie,” or “Jimmie,” or “Jennie,” or +whoever it was, and troubling to get the +spelling right, and then signing their +names, and “Xmas, 18—,” they used +to write in the gift-books, “Take it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +you horrid old thing!” and then go and +bang it against the front door. Nearly +everybody had built barns to hold their +presents, but pretty soon the barns overflowed, +and then they used to let them +lie out in the rain, or anywhere. Sometimes +the police used to come and tell +them to shovel their presents off the +sidewalk, or they would arrest them.</p></div> + +<p>“I thought you said everybody had +gone to the poor-house,” interrupted the +little girl.</p> + +<p>“They did go, at first,” said her papa; +“but after a while the poor-houses got +so full that they had to send the people +back to their own houses. They tried +to cry, when they got back, but they +couldn't make the least sound.”</p> + +<p>“Why couldn't they?”</p> + +<p>“Because they had lost their voices, +saying ‘Merry Christmas’ so much. Did +I tell you how it was on the Fourth of +July?”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p>“No; how was it?” And the little +girl nestled closer, in expectation of +something uncommon.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, the night before, the boys stayed +up to celebrate, as they always do, and +fell asleep before twelve o'clock, as usual, +expecting to be wakened by the bells +and cannon. But it was nearly eight +o'clock before the first boy in the United +States woke up, and then he found out +what the trouble was. As soon as he +could get his clothes on he ran out of +the house and smashed a big cannon-torpedo +down on the pavement; but it +didn't make any more noise than a damp +wad of paper; and after he tried about +twenty or thirty more, he began to pick +them up and look at them. Every single +torpedo was a big raisin! Then he +just streaked it up-stairs, and examined +his fire-crackers and toy-pistol and two-dollar +collection of fireworks, and found +that they were nothing but sugar and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +candy painted up to look like fireworks! +Before ten o'clock every boy in the +United States found out that his Fourth +of July things had turned into Christmas +things; and then they just sat down +and cried—they were so mad. There +are about twenty million boys in the +United States, and so you can imagine +what a noise they made. Some men +got together before night, with a little +powder that hadn't turned into purple +sugar yet, and they said they would fire +off <i>one</i> cannon, anyway. But the cannon +burst into a thousand pieces, for it +was nothing but rock-candy, and some +of the men nearly got killed. The +Fourth of July orations all turned into +Christmas carols, and when anybody +tried to read the Declaration, instead +of saying, “When in the course of +human events it becomes necessary,” +he was sure to sing, “God rest you, +merry gentlemen.” It was perfectly +awful.</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>The little girl drew a deep sigh of +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“And how was it at Thanksgiving?”</p> + +<p>Her papa hesitated. “Well, I'm almost +afraid to tell you. I'm afraid you'll +think it's wicked.”</p> + +<p>“Well, tell, anyway,” said the little +girl.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, before it came Thanksgiving it +had leaked out who had caused all these +Christmases. The little girl had suffered +so much that she had talked about it +in her sleep; and after that hardly anybody +would play with her. People just +perfectly despised her, because if it had +not been for her greediness it wouldn't +have happened; and now, when it came +Thanksgiving, and she wanted them to +go to church, and have squash-pie and +turkey, and show their gratitude, they +said that all the turkeys had been eaten +up for her old Christmas dinners, and +if she would stop the Christmases, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +would see about the gratitude. Wasn't +it dreadful? And the very next day +the little girl began to send letters to +the Christmas Fairy, and then telegrams, +to stop it. But it didn't do any good; +and then she got to calling at the Fairy's +house, but the girl that came to the +door always said, “Not at home,” or +“Engaged,” or “At dinner,” or something +like that; and so it went on till it +came to the old once-a-year Christmas +Eve. The little girl fell asleep, and when +she woke up in the morning—</p></div> + +<p>“She found it was all nothing but a +dream,” suggested the little girl.</p> + +<p>“No, indeed!” said her papa. “It +was all every bit true!”</p> + +<p>“Well, what <i>did</i> she find out, then?”</p> + +<p>“Why, that it wasn't Christmas at +last, and wasn't ever going to be, any +more. Now it's time for breakfast.”</p> + +<p>The little girl held her papa fast +around the neck.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You sha'n't go if you're going to +leave it <i>so</i>!”</p> + +<p>“How do you want it left?”</p> + +<p>“Christmas once a year.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said her papa; and he +went on again.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, there was the greatest rejoicing +all over the country, and it extended +clear up into Canada. The people met +together everywhere, and kissed and +cried for joy. The city carts went +around and gathered up all the candy +and raisins and nuts, and dumped them +into the river; and it made the fish perfectly +sick; and the whole United States, +as far out as Alaska, was one blaze of +bonfires, where the children were burning +up their gift-books and presents of +all kinds. They had the greatest <i>time</i>!</p> + +<p>The little girl went to thank the old +Fairy because she had stopped its being +Christmas, and she said she hoped she +would keep her promise and see that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +Christmas never, never came again. +Then the Fairy frowned, and asked her +if she was sure she knew what she +meant; and the little girl asked her, +Why not? and the old Fairy said that +now she was behaving just as greedily +as ever, and she'd better look out. This +made the little girl think it all over carefully +again, and she said she would be +willing to have it Christmas about once +in a thousand years; and then she said +a hundred, and then she said ten, and +at last she got down to one. Then the +Fairy said that was the good old way +that had pleased people ever since +Christmas began, and she was agreed. +Then the little girl said, “What're your +shoes made of?” And the Fairy said, +“Leather.” And the little girl said, +“Bargain's done forever,” and skipped +off, and hippity-hopped the whole way +home, she was so glad.</p></div> + +<p>“How will that do?” asked the papa.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>“First-rate!” said the little girl; but +she hated to have the story stop, and +was rather sober. However, her mamma +put her head in at the door, and +asked her papa:</p> + +<p>“Are you never coming to breakfast? +What have you been telling that child?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, just a moral tale.”</p> + +<p>The little girl caught him around the +neck again.</p> + +<p>“<i>We</i> know! Don't you tell <i>what</i>, +papa! Don't you tell <i>what</i>!”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TURKEYS_TURNING_THE" id="TURKEYS_TURNING_THE"></a>TURKEYS TURNING THE +TABLES.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></h2> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>TURKEYS TURNING THE TABLES.</h2> + + +<p>“Well, you see,” the papa began, +on Christmas morning, when the little +girl had snuggled in his lap into just +the right shape for listening, “it was +the night after Thanksgiving, and you +know how everybody feels the night +after Thanksgiving.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but you needn't begin that +way, papa,” said the little girl; “I'm +not going to have any moral to it this +time.”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed! But it can be a true +story, can't it?”</p> + +<p>“I don't know,” said the little girl; +“I like made-up ones.”</p> + +<p>“Well, this is going to be a true one, +anyway, and it's no use talking.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>All the relations in the neighborhood +had come to dinner, and then gone back +to their own houses, but some of the relations +had come from a distance, and +these had to stay all night at the grandfather's. +But whether they went or +whether they stayed, they all told the +grandmother that they did believe it +was the best Thanksgiving dinner they +had ever eaten in their born days. They +had had cranberry sauce, and they'd had +mashed potato, and they'd had mince-pie +and pandowdy, and they'd had celery, +and they'd had Hubbard squash, +and they'd had tea and coffee both, and +they'd had apple-dumpling with hard +sauce, and they'd had hot biscuit and +sweet pickle, and mangoes, and frosted +cake, and nuts, and cauliflower—</p></div> + +<p>“Don't mix them all up so!” pleaded +the little girl. “It's perfectly confusing. +I can't hardly tell <i>what</i> they had now.”</p> + +<p>“Well, <i>they</i> mixed them up just in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +the same way, and I suppose that's one +of the reasons why it happened.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Whenever a child wanted to go back +from dumpling and frosted cake to +mashed potato and Hubbard squash—they +were old-fashioned kind of people, +and they had everything on the table at +once, because the grandmother and the +aunties cooked it, and they couldn't keep +jumping up all the time to change the +plates—and its mother said it shouldn't, +its grandmother said, Indeed it should, +then, and helped it herself; and the +child's father would say, Well, he guessed +<i>he</i> would go back, too, for a change; +and the child's mother would say, She +should think he would be ashamed; +and then they would get to going back, +till everything was perfectly higgledy-piggledy.</p></div> + +<p>“Oh, <i>shouldn't</i> you like to have been +there, papa?” sighed the little girl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You mustn't interrupt. Where was +I?”</p> + +<p>“Higgledy-piggledy.”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes!”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, but the greatest thing of all +was the turkey that they had. It was +a gobbler, I tell you, that was nearly as +big as a giraffe.</p></div> + +<p>“Papa!”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It took the premium at the county +fair, and when it was dressed it weighed +fifteen pounds—well, maybe twenty—and +it was so heavy that the grandmothers +and the aunties couldn't put it +on the table, and they had to get one of +the papas to do it. You ought to have +heard the hurrahing when the children +saw him coming in from the kitchen +with it. It seemed as if they couldn't +hardly talk of anything but that turkey +the whole dinner-time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>The grandfather hated to carve, and +so one of the papas did it; and whenever +he gave anybody a piece, the grandfather +would tell some new story about +the turkey, till pretty soon the aunties +got to saying, “Now, father, stop!” +and one of them said it made it seem +as if the gobbler was walking about on +the table, to hear so much about him, +and it took her appetite all away; and +that made the papas begin to ask the +grandfather more and more about the +turkey.</p></div> + +<p>“Yes,” said the little girl, thoughtfully; +“I know what <i>papas</i> are.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, they're pretty much all alike.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>And the mammas began to say they +acted like a lot of silly boys; and what +would the children think? But nothing +could stop it; and all through the +afternoon and evening, whenever the +papas saw any of the aunties or mam<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>mas +round, they would begin to ask the +grandfather more particulars about the +turkey. The grandfather was pretty +forgetful, and he told the same things +right over. Well, and so it went on till +it came bedtime, and then the mammas +and aunties began to laugh and whisper +together, and to say they did believe +they should dream about that turkey; +and when the papas kissed the grandmother +good-night, they said, Well, +they must have his mate for Christmas; +and then they put their arms round +the mammas and went out haw-hawing.</p></div> + +<p>“I don't think they behaved very dignified,” +said the little girl.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see, they were just funning, +and had got going, and it was +Thanksgiving, anyway.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, in about half an hour everybody +was fast asleep and dreaming—</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Is it going to be a dream?” asked +the little girl, with some reluctance.</p> + +<p>“Didn't I say it was going to be a +<i>true</i> story?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“How can it be a dream, then?”</p> + +<p>“You said everybody was fast asleep +and dreaming.”</p> + +<p>“Well, but I hadn't got through. Everybody +<i>except</i> one little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Now, papa!”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“Don't you go and say her name was +the same as mine, and her eyes the same +color.”</p> + +<p>“What an idea!”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>This</i> was a very <i>good</i> little girl, and +very respectful to her papa, and didn't +suspect him of tricks, but just believed +everything he said. And she was a +very pretty little girl, and had red eyes, +and blue cheeks, and straight hair, and +a curly nose—</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Now, papa, if you get to cutting +up—”</p> + +<p>“Well, I won't, then!”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, she was rather a delicate little +girl, and whenever she over-ate, or anything,</p></div> + +<p>“Have bad dreams! Aha! I <i>told</i> +you it was going to be a dream.”</p> + +<p>“You wait till I get through.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>She was apt to lie awake thinking, and +some of her thinks were pretty dismal. +Well, that night, instead of thinking and +tossing and turning, and counting a thousand, +it seemed to this other little girl +that she began to see things as soon +as she had got warm in bed, and before, +even. And the first thing she saw was +a large, bronze-colored—</p></div> + +<p>“Turkey gobbler!”</p> + +<p>“No, ma'am. Turkey gobbler's <i>ghost</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Foo!” said the little girl, rather un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>easily; +“whoever heard of a turkey's +ghost, I should like to know?”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, that,” said the papa. +“If it hadn't been a ghost, could the +moonlight have shone through it? No, +indeed! The stuffing wouldn't have +let it. So you see it must have been a +ghost.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It had a red pasteboard placard round +its neck, with <span class="smcap">First Premium</span> printed on +it, and so she knew that it was the ghost +of the very turkey they had had for dinner. +It was perfectly awful when it put +up its tail, and dropped its wings, and +strutted just the way the grandfather +said it used to do. It seemed to be in a +wide pasture, like that back of the house, +and the children had to cross it to get +home, and they were all afraid of the +turkey that kept gobbling at them and +threatening them, because they had eaten +him up. At last one of the boys—it +was the other little girl's brother—said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +he would run across and get his papa to +come out and help them, and the first +thing she knew the turkey was after +him, gaining, gaining, gaining, and all +the grass was full of hen-turkeys and +turkey chicks, running after him, and +gaining, gaining, gaining, and just as he +was getting to the wall he tripped and +fell over a turkey-pen, and all at once +she was in one of the aunties' room, and +the aunty was in bed, and the turkeys +were walking up and down over her, and +stretching out their wings, and blaming +her. Two of them carried a platter of +chicken pie, and there was a large pumpkin +jack-o'-lantern hanging to the bedpost +to light the room, and it looked +just like the other little girl's brother +in the face, only perfectly ridiculous.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"><a name="illus_1" id="illus_1"></a> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="800" height="516" alt="“THE OLD GOBBLER ‘FIRST PREMIUM’ SAID THEY WERE GOING TO TURN THE TABLES NOW.”" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“THE OLD GOBBLER ‘FIRST PREMIUM’ SAID THEY WERE GOING TO TURN THE TABLES NOW.”</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +</div> + +<p>Then the old gobbler, First Premium, +clapped his wings, and said, “Come on, +chick-chickledren!” and then they all +seemed to be in her room, and she was +standing in the middle of it in her nigh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>t-gown, +and tied round and round with +ribbons, so she couldn't move hand or +foot. The old gobbler, First Premium, +said they were going to turn the tables +now, and she knew what he meant, for +they had had that in the reader at school +just before vacation, and the teacher had +explained it. He made a long speech, +with his hat on, and kept pointing at her +with one of his wings, while he told the +other turkeys that it was her grandfather +who had done it, and now it was +their turn. He said that human beings +had been eating turkeys ever since the +discovery of America, and it was time +for the turkeys to begin paying them +back, if they were ever going to. He +said she was pretty young, but she was +as big as he was, and he had no doubt +they would enjoy her.</p> + +<p>The other little girl tried to tell him +that she was not to blame, and that she +only took a very, very little piece.</p> + +<p>“But it was right off the breast,” said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +the gobbler, and he shed tears, so that +the other little girl cried, too. She +didn't have much hopes, they all seemed +so spiteful, especially the little turkey +chicks; but she told them that she +was very tender-hearted, and never hurt +a single thing, and she tried to make +them understand that there was a great +difference between eating people and +just eating turkeys.</p> + +<p>“What difference, I should like to +know?” says the old hen-turkey, pretty +snappishly.</p> + +<p>“People have got souls, and turkeys +haven't,” says the other little girl.</p> + +<p>“I don't see how <i>that</i> makes it any +better,” says the old hen-turkey. “It +don't make it any better for the <i>turkeys</i>. +If we haven't got any souls, we +can't live after we've been eaten up, +and you <i>can</i>.”</p> + +<p>The other little girl was awfully +frightened to have the hen-turkey take +that tack.</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I should think she would 'a' been,” +said the little girl; and she cuddled +snugger into her papa's arms. “What +<i>could</i> she say? Ugh! Go on.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, she didn't know what to say, +that's a fact. You see, she never thought +of it in that light before. All she could +say was, “Well, people have got reason, +anyway, and turkeys have only got instinct; +so there!”</p> + +<p>“You'd better look out,” says the old +hen-turkey; and all the little turkey +chicks got so mad they just hopped, and +the oldest little he-turkey, that was just +beginning to be a gobbler, he dropped +his wings and spread his tail just like +his father, and walked round the other +little girl till it was perfectly frightful.</p></div> + +<p>“I should think they would 'a' been +ashamed.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"><p>Well, perhaps old First Premium <i>was</i> +a little; because he stopped them. “My +dear,” he says to the old hen-turkey, +and chick-chickledren, “you forget yourselves; +you should have a little consideration. +Perhaps you wouldn't behave +much better yourselves if you were just +going to be eaten.”</p> + +<p>And they all began to scream and to +cry, “We've <i>been</i> eaten, and we're nothing +but turkey ghosts.”</p></div> + +<p>“<i>There</i>, now, papa,” says the little +girl, sitting up straight, so as to argue +better, “I <i>knew</i> it wasn't true, all along. +How could turkeys have ghosts if they +don't have souls, I should like to know?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, easily,” said the papa.</p> + +<p>“Tell how,” said the little girl.</p> + +<p>“Now look here,” said the papa, “are +you telling this story, or am I?”</p> + +<p>“You are,” said the little girl, and +she cuddled down again. “Go on.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, don't you interrupt. +Where was I? Oh yes.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, he couldn't do anything with +them, old First Premium couldn't. They +acted perfectly ridiculous, and one little +brat of a spiteful little chick piped out, +“I speak for a drumstick, ma!” and then +they all began: “I want a wing, ma!” +and “I'm going to have the wish-bone!” +and “I shall have just as much stuffing +as ever I please, shan't I, ma?” till the +other little girl was perfectly disgusted +with them; she thought they oughtn't +to say it before her, anyway; but she +had hardly thought this before they all +screamed out, “They used to say it before +<i>us</i>,” and then she didn't know what +to say, because she knew how people +talked before animals.</p></div> + +<p>“I don't believe I ever did,” said the +little girl. “Go on.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, old First Premium tried to quiet +them again, and when he couldn't he +apologized to the other little girl so +nicely that she began to like him. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +said they didn't mean any harm by it; +they were just excited, and chickledren +would be chickledren.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the other little girl, “but +I think you might take some older person +to begin with. It's a perfect shame +to begin with a little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Begin!” says old First Premium. +“Do you think we're just <i>beginning</i>? +Why, when do you think it is?”</p> + +<p>“The night after Thanksgiving.”</p> + +<p>“What year?”</p> + +<p>“1886.”</p> + +<p>They all gave a perfect screech. +“Why, it's Christmas Eve, 1900, and +every one of your friends has been eaten +up long ago,” says old First Premium, +and he began to cry over her, and the +old hen-turkey and the little turkey +chicks began to wipe their eyes on the +backs of their wings.</p></div> + +<p>“I don't think they were very neat,” +said the little girl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Well, they were kind-hearted, anyway, +and they felt sorry for the other +little girl. And she began to think she +had made some little impression on +them, when she noticed the old hen-turkey +beginning to untie her bonnet +strings, and the turkey chicks began to +spread round her in a circle, with the +points of their wings touching, so that +she couldn't get out, and they commenced +dancing and singing, and after a +while that little he-turkey says, “Who's +<i>it</i>?” and the other little girl, she didn't +know why, says, “<i>I'm</i> it,” and old First +Premium says, “Do you promise?” and +the other little girl says, “Yes, I promise,” +and she knew she was promising, +if they would let her go, that people +should never eat turkeys any more. +And the moon began to shine brighter +and brighter through the turkeys, and +pretty soon it was the sun, and then it +was not the turkeys, but the window-curtains—it +was one of those old farm-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>houses +where they don't have blinds—and +the other little girl—</p></div> + +<p>“Woke up!” shouted the little girl. +“There now, papa, what did I tell you? +I <i>knew</i> it was a dream all along.”</p> + +<p>“No, she didn't,” said the papa; “and +it wasn't a dream.”</p> + +<p>“What was it, then?”</p> + +<p>“It was a—trance.”</p> + +<p>The little girl turned round, and knelt +in her papa's lap, so as to take him by +the shoulders and give him a good shaking. +That made him promise to be good, +pretty quick, and, “Very well, then,” +says the little girl; “if it wasn't a dream, +you've got to prove it.”</p> + +<p>“But how can I prove it?” says the +papa.</p> + +<p>“By going on with the story,” says the +little girl, and she cuddled down again.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, that's easy enough.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"><p>As soon as it was light in the room, +the other little girl could see that the +place was full of people, crammed and +jammed, and they were all awfully excited, +and kept yelling, “Down with the +traitress!” “Away with the renegade!” +“Shame on the little sneak!” till it was +worse than the turkeys, ten times.</p> + +<p>She knew that they meant her, and +she tried to explain that she just <i>had</i> to +promise, and that if they had been in her +place they would have promised too; and +of course they could do as they pleased +about keeping her word, but she was +going to keep it, anyway, and never, +never, never eat another piece of turkey +either at Thanksgiving or at Christmas.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then,” says an old lady, +who looked like her grandmother, and +then began to have a crown on, and to +turn into Queen Victoria, “what <i>can</i> +we have?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” says the other little girl, +“you can have oyster soup.”</p> + +<p>“What else?”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>“And you can have cranberry sauce.”</p> + +<p>“What else?”</p> + +<p>“You can have mashed potatoes, and +Hubbard squash, and celery, and turnip, +and cauliflower.”</p> + +<p>“What else?”</p> + +<p>“You can have mince-pie, and pandowdy, +and plum-pudding.”</p> + +<p>“And not a thing on the list,” says +the Queen, “that doesn't go with turkey! +Now you see.”</p></div> + +<p>The papa stopped.</p> + +<p>“Go on,” said the little girl.</p> + +<p>“There isn't any more.”</p> + +<p>The little girl turned round, got up +on her knees, took him by the shoulders, +and shook him fearfully. “Now, then,” +she said, while the papa let his head +wag, after the shaking, like a Chinese +mandarin's, and it was a good thing he +did not let his tongue stick out. “Now, +will you go on? What <i>did</i> the people +eat in place of turkey?”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I don't know.”</p> + +<p>“You don't know, you awful papa! +Well, then, what did the little girl eat?”</p> + +<p>“She?” The papa freed himself, and +made his preparation to escape. “Why +she—oh, <i>she</i> ate goose. Goose is tenderer +than turkey, anyway, and more +digestible; and there isn't so much of +it, and you can't overeat yourself, and +have bad—”</p> + +<p>“Dreams!” cried the little girl.</p> + +<p>“Trances,” said the papa, and she began +to chase him all round the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_PONY_ENGINE_AND_THE" id="THE_PONY_ENGINE_AND_THE"></a>THE PONY ENGINE AND THE +PACIFIC EXPRESS.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE PONY ENGINE AND THE +PACIFIC EXPRESS.</h2> + + +<p>Christmas Eve, after the children had +hung up their stockings and got all +ready for St. Nic, they climbed up on +the papa's lap to kiss him good-night, +and when they both got their arms +round his neck, they said they were not +going to bed till he told them a Christmas +story. Then he saw that he would +have to mind, for they were awfully severe +with him, and always made him do +exactly what they told him; it was the +way they had brought him up. He +tried his best to get out of it for a +while; but after they had shaken him +first this side, and then that side, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +pulled him backward and forward till +he did not know where he was, he began +to think perhaps he had better begin. +The first thing he said, after he +opened his eyes, and made believe he +had been asleep, or something, was, +“Well, what did I leave off at?” and +that made them just perfectly boiling, +for they understood his tricks, and they +knew he was trying to pretend that he +had told part of the story already; and +they said he had not left off anywhere +because he had not commenced, and he +saw it was no use. So he commenced.</p> + +<p>“Once there was a little Pony Engine +that used to play round the Fitchburg +Depot on the side tracks, and +sleep in among the big locomotives in +the car-house—”</p> + +<p>The little girl lifted her head from the +papa's shoulder, where she had dropped +it. “Is it a sad story, papa?”</p> + +<p>“How is it going to end?” asked the +boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, it's got a moral,” said the papa.</p> + +<p>“Oh, all right, if it's got a moral,” said +the children; they had a good deal of +fun with the morals the papa put to his +stories. The boy added, “Go on,” and +the little girl prompted, “Car-house.”</p> + +<p>The papa said, “Now every time you +stop me I shall have to begin all over +again.” But he saw that this was not +going to spite them any, so he went on: +“One of the locomotives was its mother, +and she had got hurt once in a big +smash-up, so that she couldn't run long +trips any more. She was so weak in +the chest you could hear her wheeze as +far as you could see her. But she could +work round the depot, and pull empty +cars in and out, and shunt them off on +the side tracks; and she was so anxious +to be useful that all the other engines +respected her, and they were very kind +to the little Pony Engine on her account, +though it was always getting in +the way, and under their wheels, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +everything. They all knew it was an +orphan, for before its mother got hurt +its father went through a bridge one +dark night into an arm of the sea, and +was never heard of again; he was supposed +to have been drowned. The old +mother locomotive used to say that it +would never have happened if she had +been there; but poor dear No. 236 was +always so venturesome, and she had +warned him against that very bridge +time and again. Then she would whistle +so dolefully, and sigh with her air-brakes +enough to make anybody cry. You see +they used to be a very happy family +when they were all together, before the +papa locomotive got drowned. He was +very fond of the little Pony Engine, and +told it stories at night after they got +into the car-house, at the end of some +of his long runs. It would get up on +his cow-catcher, and lean its chimney up +against his, and listen till it fell asleep. +Then he would put it softly down, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +be off again in the morning before it +was awake. I tell you, those were happy +days for poor No. 236. The little +Pony Engine could just remember him; +it was awfully proud of its papa.”</p> + +<p>The boy lifted his head and looked at +the little girl, who suddenly hid her face +in the papa's other shoulder. “Well, I +declare, papa, she was putting up her +lip.”</p> + +<p>“I wasn't, any such thing!” said the +little girl. “And I don't care! So!” and +then she sobbed.</p> + +<p>“Now, never you mind,” said the papa +to the boy. “You'll be putting up <i>your</i> +lip before I'm through. Well, and then +she used to caution the little Pony Engine +against getting in the way of the +big locomotives, and told it to keep close +round after her, and try to do all it +could to learn about shifting empty +cars. You see, she knew how ambitious +the little Pony Engine was, and how it +wasn't contented a bit just to grow up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +in the pony-engine business, and be tied +down to the depot all its days. Once +she happened to tell it that if it was +good and always did what it was bid, +perhaps a cow-catcher would grow on it +some day, and then it could be a passenger +locomotive. Mammas have to +promise all sorts of things, and she was +almost distracted when she said that.”</p> + +<p>“I don't think she ought to have deceived +it, papa,” said the boy. “But it +ought to have known that if it was a +Pony Engine to begin with, it never +could have a cow-catcher.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn't it?” asked the little girl, +gently.</p> + +<p>“No; they're kind of mooley.”</p> + +<p>The little girl asked the papa, “What +makes Pony Engines mooley?” for she +did not choose to be told by her brother; +he was only two years older than +she was, anyway.</p> + +<p>“Well; it's pretty hard to say. You see, +when a locomotive is first hatched—”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, are they hatched, papa?” asked +the boy.</p> + +<p>“Well, we'll <i>call</i> it hatched,” said the +papa; but they knew he was just funning. +“They're about the size of tea-kettles +at first; and it's a chance +whether they will have cow-catchers +or not. If they keep their spouts, they +will; and if their spouts drop off, they +won't.”</p> + +<p>“What makes the spout ever drop +off?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, sometimes the pip, or the +gapes—”</p> + +<p>The children both began to shake the +papa, and he was glad enough to go on +sensibly. “Well, anyway, the mother +locomotive certainly oughtn't to have +deceived it. Still she had to say <i>something</i>, +and perhaps the little Pony Engine +was better employed watching its +buffers with its head-light, to see whether +its cow-catcher had begun to grow, +than it would have been in listening to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +the stories of the old locomotives, and +sometimes their swearing.”</p> + +<p>“Do they swear, papa?” asked the +little girl, somewhat shocked, and yet +pleased.</p> + +<p>“Well, I never heard them, <i>near by</i>. +But it sounds a good deal like swearing +when you hear them on the up-grade +on our hill in the night. Where was I?”</p> + +<p>“Swearing,” said the boy. “And +please don't go back, now, papa.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I won't. It'll be as much as +I can do to get through this story, without +going over any of it again. Well, +the thing that the little Pony Engine +wanted to be, the most in this world, +was the locomotive of the Pacific Express, +that starts out every afternoon at +three, you know. It intended to apply +for the place as soon as its cow-catcher +was grown, and it was always trying to +attract the locomotive's attention, backing +and filling on the track alongside of +the train; and once it raced it a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +piece, and beat it, before the Express locomotive +was under way, and almost got +in front of it on a switch. My, but its +mother was scared! She just yelled to +it with her whistle; and that night she +sent it to sleep without a particle of coal +or water in its tender.</p> + +<p>“But the little Pony Engine didn't +care. It had beaten the Pacific Express +in a hundred yards, and what was +to hinder it from beating it as long as +it chose? The little Pony Engine could +not get it out of its head. It was just +like a boy who thinks he can whip a +man.”</p> + +<p>The boy lifted his head. “Well, a +boy <i>can</i>, papa, if he goes to do it the +right way. Just stoop down before the +man knows it, and catch him by the +legs and tip him right over.”</p> + +<p>“Ho! I guess you see yourself!” said +the little girl, scornfully.</p> + +<p>“Well, I <i>could</i>!” said the boy; “and +some day I'll just show you.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Now, little cock-sparrow, now!” said +the papa; and he laughed. “Well, the +little Pony Engine thought he could beat +the Pacific Express, anyway; and so one +dark, snowy, blowy afternoon, when his +mother was off pushing some empty coal +cars up past the Know-Nothing crossing +beyond Charlestown, he got on the track +in front of the Express, and when he +heard the conductor say ‘All aboard,’ +and the starting gong struck, and the +brakemen leaned out and waved to the +engineer, he darted off like lightning. +He had his steam up, and he just scuttled.</p> + +<p>“Well, he was so excited for a while +that he couldn't tell whether the Express +was gaining on him or not; but +after twenty or thirty miles, he thought +he heard it pretty near. Of course the +Express locomotive was drawing a heavy +train of cars, and it had to make a stop +or two—at Charlestown, and at Concord +Junction, and at Ayer—so the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +Pony Engine did really gain on it a +little; and when it began to be scared +it gained a good deal. But the first +place where it began to feel sorry, and +to want its mother, was in Hoosac Tunnel. +It never was in a tunnel before, +and it seemed as if it would never get +out. It kept thinking, What if the Pacific +Express was to run over it there in +the dark, and its mother off there at the +Fitchburg Depot, in Boston, looking for +it among the side-tracks? It gave a perfect +shriek; and just then it shot out of +the tunnel. There were a lot of locomotives +loafing around there at North +Adams, and one of them shouted out +to it as it flew by, ‘What's your hurry, +little one?’ and it just screamed back, +‘Pacific Express!’ and never stopped to +explain. They talked in locomotive language—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what did it sound like?” the boy +asked.</p> + +<p>“Well, pretty queer; I'll tell you some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +day. It knew it had no time to fool +away, and all through the long, dark +night, whenever, a locomotive hailed it, +it just screamed, ‘Pacific Express!’ and +kept on. And the Express kept gaining +on it. Some of the locomotives +wanted to stop it, but they decided they +had better not get in its way, and so it +whizzed along across New York State +and Ohio and Indiana, till it got to +Chicago. And the Express kept gaining +on it. By that time it was so hoarse +it could hardly whisper, but it kept saying, +‘Pacific Express! Pacific Express!’ +and it kept right on till it reached the +Mississippi River. There it found a +long train of freight cars before it on +the bridge. It couldn't wait, and so it +slipped down from the track to the +edge of the river and jumped across, +and then scrambled up the embankment +to the track again.”</p> + +<p>“Papa!” said the little girl, warningly.</p> + +<p>“Truly it did,” said the papa.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Ho! that's nothing,” said the boy. +“A whole train of cars did it in that +Jules Verne book.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” the papa went on, “after that +it had a little rest, for the Express had +to wait for the freight train to get off +the bridge, and the Pony Engine stopped +at the first station for a drink of water +and a mouthful of coal, and then it flew +ahead. There was a kind old locomotive +at Omaha that tried to find out +where it belonged, and what its mother's +name was, but the Pony Engine was so +bewildered it couldn't tell. And the +Express kept gaining on it. On the +plains it was chased by a pack of prairie +wolves, but it left them far behind; and +the antelopes were scared half to death. +But the worst of it was when the nightmare +got after it.”</p> + +<p>“The nightmare? Goodness!” said +the boy.</p> + +<p>“I've had the nightmare,” said the +little girl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh yes, a mere human nightmare,” +said the papa. “But a locomotive +nightmare is a very different thing.”</p> + +<p>“Why, what's it like?” asked the boy. +The little girl was almost afraid to ask.</p> + +<p>“Well, it has only one leg, to begin +with.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!”</p> + +<p>“Wheel, I mean. And it has four +cow-catchers, and four head-lights, and +two boilers, and eight whistles, and it +just goes whirling and screeching along. +Of course it wobbles awfully; and as +it's only got one wheel, it has to keep +skipping from one track to the other.”</p> + +<p>“I should think it would run on the +cross-ties,” said the boy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, very well, then!” said the papa. +“If you know so much more about it +than I do! Who's telling this story, +anyway? Now I shall have to go back +to the beginning. Once there was a +little Pony En—”</p> + +<p>They both put their hands over his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +mouth, and just fairly begged him to +go on, and at last he did. “Well, it got +away from the nightmare about morning, +but not till the nightmare had bitten +a large piece out of its tender, and +then it braced up for the home-stretch. +It thought that if it could once beat the +Express to the Sierras, it could keep the +start the rest of the way, for it could +get over the mountains quicker than the +Express could, and it might be in San +Francisco before the Express got to +Sacramento. The Express kept gaining +on it. But it just zipped along the +upper edge of Kansas and the lower +edge of Nebraska, and on through Colorado +and Utah and Nevada, and when +it got to the Sierras it just stooped a +little, and went over them like a goat; +it did, truly; just doubled up its fore +wheels under it, and jumped. And the +Express kept gaining on it. By this +time it couldn't say ‘Pacific Express’ +any more, and it didn't try. It just said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +‘Express! Express!’ and then ‘'Press! +'Press!’ and then ‘'Ess! 'Ess!’ and pretty +soon only ‘'Ss! 'Ss!’ And the Express +kept gaining on it. Before they +reached San Francisco, the Express +locomotive's cow-catcher was almost +touching the Pony Engine's tender; +it gave one howl of anguish as it felt +the Express locomotive's hot breath on +the place where the nightmare had bitten +the piece out, and tore through the +end of the San Francisco depot, and +plunged into the Pacific Ocean, and was +never seen again. There, now,” said the +papa, trying to make the children get +down, “that's all. Go to bed.” The +little girl was crying, and so he tried to +comfort her by keeping her in his lap.</p> + +<p>The boy cleared his throat. “What +is the moral, papa?” he asked, huskily.</p> + +<p>“Children, obey your parents,” said +the papa.</p> + +<p>“And what became of the mother locomotive?” +pursued the boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>“She had a brain-fever, and never +quite recovered the use of her mind +again.”</p> + +<p>The boy thought awhile. “Well, I +don't see what it had to do with Christmas, +anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Why, it was Christmas Eve when +the Pony Engine started from Boston, +and Christmas afternoon when it reached +San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“Ho!” said the boy. “No locomotive +could get across the continent in a day +and a night, let alone a little Pony Engine.”</p> + +<p>“But this Pony Engine <i>had</i> to. Did +you never hear of the beaver that clomb +the tree?”</p> + +<p>“No! Tell—”</p> + +<p>“Yes, some other time.”</p> + +<p>“But how <i>could</i> it get across so quick? +Just one day!”</p> + +<p>“Well, perhaps it was a year. Maybe +it was the <i>next</i> Christmas after that +when it got to San Francisco.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>The papa set the little girl down, and +started to run out of the room, and both +of the children ran after him, to pound +him.</p> + +<p>When they were in bed the boy called +down-stairs to the papa, “Well, anyway, +I didn't put up my lip.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_PUMPKIN-GLORY" id="THE_PUMPKIN-GLORY"></a>THE PUMPKIN-GLORY</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<h2><img src="images/i002.jpg" width="500" height="168" alt="THE PUMPKIN-GLORY" title="" /></h2> +</div> + + +<p>The papa had told the story so often +that the children knew just exactly +what to expect the moment he began. +They all knew it as well as he knew it +himself, and they could keep him from +making mistakes, or forgetting. Sometimes +he would go wrong on purpose, or +would pretend to forget, and then they +had a perfect right to pound him till he +quit it. He usually quit pretty soon.</p> + +<p>The children liked it because it was +very exciting, and at the same time it +had no moral, so that when it was all +over, they could feel that they had not +been excited just for the moral. The +first time the little girl heard it she be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>gan +to cry, when it came to the worst +part; but the boy had heard it so much +by that time that he did not mind it in +the least, and just laughed.</p> + +<p>The story was in season any time between +Thanksgiving and New Years; +but the papa usually began to tell it +in the early part of October, when the +farmers were getting in their pumpkins, +and the children were asking when they +were going to have any squash pies, and +the boy had made his first jack-o'-lantern.</p> + +<p>“Well,” the papa said, “once there +were two little pumpkin seeds, and one +was a good little pumpkin seed, and the +other was bad—very proud, and vain, +and ambitious.”</p> + +<p>The papa had told them what ambitious +was, and so the children did not +stop him when he came to that word; +but sometimes he would stop of his own +accord, and then if they could not tell +what it meant, he would pretend that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +he was not going on; but he always did +go on.</p> + +<p>“Well, the farmer took both the seeds +out to plant them in the home-patch, +because they were a very extra kind of +seeds, and he was not going to risk them +in the cornfield, among the corn. So +before he put them in the ground, he +asked each one of them what he wanted +to be when he came up, and the good little +pumpkin seed said he wanted to come +up a pumpkin, and be made into a pie, +and be eaten at Thanksgiving dinner; +and the bad little pumpkin seed said he +wanted to come up a morning-glory.</p> + +<p>“‘Morning-glory!’ says the farmer. +‘I guess you'll come up a pumpkin-glory, +first thing <i>you</i> know,’ and then he haw-hawed, +and told his son, who was helping +him to plant the garden, to keep +watch of that particular hill of pumpkins, +and see whether that little seed +came up a morning-glory or not; and +the boy stuck a stick into the hill so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +he could tell it. But one night the +cow got in, and the farmer was so mad, +having to get up about one o'clock in +the morning to drive the cow out, that +he pulled up the stick, without noticing, +to whack her over the back with it, and +so they lost the place.</p> + +<p>“But the two little pumpkin seeds, +they knew where they were well enough, +and they lay low, and let the rain and +the sun soak in and swell them up; and +then they both began to push, and by-and-by +they got their heads out of the +ground, with their shells down over +their eyes like caps, and as soon as they +could shake them off and look round, +the bad little pumpkin vine said to his +brother:</p> + +<p>“‘Well, what are you going to do +now?’</p> + +<p>“The good little pumpkin vine said, +‘Oh, I'm just going to stay here, and +grow and grow, and put out all the blossoms +I can, and let them all drop off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +but one, and then grow that into the +biggest and fattest and sweetest pumpkin +that ever was for Thanksgiving +pies.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a name="illus_2" id="illus_2"></a> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="400" height="340" alt="TWO LITTLE PUMPKIN SEEDS." title="" /> +<span class="caption">TWO LITTLE PUMPKIN SEEDS.</span> +</div> + +<p>“‘Well, that's what I am going to +do, too,’ said the bad little pumpkin +vine, ‘all but the pies; but I'm not going +to stay here to do it. I'm going to +that fence over there, where the morning-glories +were last summer, and I'm +going to show them what a pumpkin-glory +is like. I'm just going to cover +myself with blossoms; and blossoms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +that won't shut up, either, when the +sun comes out, but 'll stay open, as if +they hadn't anything to be ashamed of, +and that won't drop off the first day, +either. I noticed those morning-glories +all last summer, when I was nothing +but one of the blossoms myself, and I +just made up my mind that as soon as +ever I got to be a vine, I would show +them a thing or two. Maybe I <i>can't</i> be +a morning-glory, but I can be a pumpkin-glory, +and I guess that's glory +enough.’</p> + +<p>“It made the cold chills run over the +good little vine to hear its brother talk +like that, and it begged him not to do +it; and it began to cry—</p> + +<p>“What's that?” The papa stopped +short, and the boy stopped whispering +in his sister's ear, and she answered:</p> + +<p>“He said he bet it was a girl!” The +tears stood in her eyes, and the boy +said:</p> + +<p>“Well, anyway, it was <i>like</i> a girl.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Very well, sir!” said the papa. +“And supposing it was? Which is better: +to stay quietly at home, and do your +duty, and grow up, and be eaten in a +pie at Thanksgiving, or go gadding all +over the garden, and climbing fences, +and everything? The good little pumpkin +vine was perfectly right, and the +bad little pumpkin would have been +saved a good deal if it had minded its +little sister.</p> + +<p>“The farmer was pretty busy that +summer, and after the first two or three +hoeings he had to leave the two pumpkin +vines to the boy that had helped +him to plant the seed, and the boy had +to go fishing so much, and then in +swimming, that he perfectly neglected +them, and let them run wild, if they +wanted to; and if the good little pumpkin +vine had not been the best little +pumpkin vine that ever was, it <i>would</i> +have run wild. But it just stayed where +it was, and thickened up, and covered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +itself with blossoms, till it was like one +mass of gold. It was very fond of all +its blossoms, and it couldn't bear hardly +to think of losing any of them; but it +knew they couldn't every one grow up +to be a very large pumpkin, and so it +let them gradually drop off till it only +had one left, and then it just gave all +its attention to that one, and did everything +it could to make it grow into the +kind of pumpkin it said it would.</p> + +<p>“All this time the bad little pumpkin +vine was carrying out its plan of being +a pumpkin-glory. In the first place it +found out that if it expected to get +through by fall it couldn't fool much +putting out a lot of blossoms and waiting +for them to drop off, before it began +to devote itself to business. The fence +was a good piece off, and it had to reach +the fence in the first place, for there +wouldn't be any fun in being a pumpkin-glory +down where nobody could see you, +or anything. So the bad little pumpkin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +vine began to pull and stretch towards +the fence, and sometimes it thought it +would surely snap in two, it pulled and +stretched so hard. But besides the +pulling and stretching, it had to hide, +and go round, because if it had been +seen it wouldn't have been allowed to +go to the fence. It was a good thing +there were so many weeds, that the boy +was too lazy to pull up, and the bad little +pumpkin vine could hide among. But +then they were a good deal of a hinderance, +too, because they were so thick it +could hardly get through them. It had +to pass some rows of pease that were +perfectly awful; they tied themselves +to it and tried to keep it back; and +there was one hill of cucumbers that +acted ridiculously; they said it was a +cucumber vine running away from home, +and they would have kept it from going +any farther, if it hadn't tugged with +all its might and main, and got away +one night when the cucumbers were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +sleeping; it was pretty strong, anyway. +When it got to the fence at last, it +thought it was going to die. It was all +pulled out so thin that it wasn't any +thicker than a piece of twine in some +places, and its leaves just hung in tatters. +It hadn't had time to put out more +than one blossom, and that was such a +poor little sickly thing that it could hardly +hang on. The question was, How can +a pumpkin vine climb a fence, anyway?</p> + +<p>“Its knees and elbows were all worn +to strings getting there, or that's what +the pumpkin thought, till it wound one +of those tendrils round a splinter of the +fence, without thinking, and happened +to pull, and then it was perfectly surprised +to find that it seemed to lift itself +off the ground a little. It said to itself, +‘Let's try a few more,’ and it twisted +some more of the tendrils round some +more splinters, and this time it fairly +lifted itself off the ground. It said, +‘Ah, I see!’ as if it had somehow ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>pected +to do something of the kind all +along; but it had to be pretty careful +getting up the fence not to knock its +blossom off, for that would have been +the end of it; and when it did get up +among the morning-glories it almost +killed the poor thing, keeping it open +night and day, and showing it off in the +hottest sun, and not giving it a bit of +shade, but just holding it out where it +could be seen the whole time. It wasn't +very much of a blossom compared with +the blossoms on the good little pumpkin +vine, but it was bigger than any of the +morning-glories, and that was some +satisfaction, and the bad little pumpkin +vine was as proud as if it was the largest +blossom in the world.</p> + +<p>“When the blossom's leaves dropped +off, and a little pumpkin began to grow +on in its place, the vine did everything +it could for it; just gave itself up to it, +and put all its strength into it. After +all, it was a pretty queer-looking pump<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>kin, +though. It had to grow hanging +down, and not resting on anything, and +after it started with a round head, like +other pumpkins, its neck began to pull +out, and pull out, till it looked like a +gourd or a big pear. That's the way it +looked in the fall, hanging from the vine +on the fence, when the first light frost +came and killed the vine. It was the +day when the farmer was gathering his +pumpkins in the cornfield, and he just +happened to remember the seeds he had +planted in the home-patch, and he got +out of his wagon to see what had become +of them. He was perfectly astonished +to see the size of the good little +pumpkin; you could hardly get it into a +bushel basket, and he gathered it, and +sent it to the county fair, and took the +first premium with it.”</p> + +<p>“How much was the premium?” asked +the boy. He yawned; he had heard all +these facts so often before.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a name="illus_3" id="illus_3"></a> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="400" height="373" alt="TOOK THE FIRST PREMIUM AT THE COUNTY FAIR." title="" /> +<span class="caption">TOOK THE FIRST PREMIUM AT THE COUNTY FAIR.</span> +</div> + +<p>“It was fifty cents; but you see the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +farmer had to pay two dollars to get a +chance to try for the premium at the +fair; and so it was <i>some</i> satisfaction. +Anyway, he took the premium, and he +tried to sell the pumpkin, and when he +couldn't, he brought it home and told +his wife they must have it for Thanksgiving. +The boy had gathered the bad +little pumpkin, and kept it from being +fed to the cow, it was so funny-looking; +and the day before Thanksgiving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +the farmer found it in the barn, and +he said,</p> + +<p>“‘Hollo! Here's that little fool pumpkin. +Wonder if it thinks it's a morning-glory +yet?’</p> + +<p>“And the boy said, ‘Oh, father, +mayn't I have it?’</p> + +<p>“And the father said, ‘Guess so. +What are you going to do with it?’</p> + +<p>“But the boy didn't tell, because he +was going to keep it for a surprise; but +as soon as his father went out of the +barn, he picked up the bad little pumpkin +by its long neck, and he kind of +balanced it before him, and he said, +‘Well, now, I'm going to make a pumpkin-glory +out of <i>you</i>!’<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;"><a name="illus_4" id="illus_4"></a> +<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="750" height="554" alt=""'HERE'S THAT LITTLE FOOL PUMPKIN,' SAID THE FARMER."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“‘HERE'S THAT LITTLE FOOL PUMPKIN,’ SAID THE FARMER.”</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +</div> + +<p>“And when the bad little pumpkin +heard that, all its seeds fairly rattled in +it for joy. The boy took out his knife, +and the first thing the pumpkin knew +he was cutting a kind of lid off the top +of it; it was like getting scalped, but +the pumpkin didn't mind it, because it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +was just the same as war. And when +the boy got the top off he poured the +seeds out, and began to scrape the inside +as thin as he could without breaking +through. It hurt awfully, and nothing +but the hope of being a pumpkin-glory +could have kept the little pumpkin +quiet; but it didn't say a word, even +after the boy had made a mouth for it, +with two rows of splendid teeth, and it +didn't cry with either of the eyes he +made for it; just winked at him with +one of them, and twisted its mouth to +one side, so as to let him know it was +in the joke; and the first thing it did +when it got one was to turn up its nose +at the good little pumpkin, which the +boy's mother came into the barn to get.”</p> + +<p>“Show how it looked,” said the boy.</p> + +<p>And the papa twisted his mouth, and +winked with one eye, and wrinkled his +nose till the little girl begged him to +stop. Then he went on:</p> + +<p>“The boy hid the bad pumpkin be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>hind +him till his mother was gone, because +he didn't want her in the secret; +and then he slipped into the house, and +put it under his bed. It was pretty +lonesome up there in the boy's room—he +slept in the garret, and there was +nothing but broken furniture besides his +bed; but all day long it could smell the +good little pumpkin, boiling and boiling +for pies; and late at night, after the boy +had gone to sleep, it could smell the hot +pies when they came out of the oven. +They smelt splendid, but the bad little +pumpkin didn't envy them a bit; it just +said, ‘Pooh! What's twenty pumpkin +pies to one pumpkin-glory?’”</p> + +<p>“It ought to have said ‘what <i>are</i>,’ +oughtn't it, papa?” asked the little girl.</p> + +<p>“It certainly ought,” said the papa. +“But if nothing but it's grammar had +been bad, there wouldn't have been +much to complain of about it.”</p> + +<p>“I don't suppose it had ever heard +much good grammar from the farmer's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +family,” suggested the boy. “Farmers +always say cowcumbers instead of cucumbers.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, <i>do</i> tell us about the Cowcumber, +and the Bullcumber, and the little Calfcumbers, +papa!” the little girl entreated, +and she clasped her hands, to show how +anxious she was.</p> + +<p>“What! And leave off at the most +exciting part of the pumpkin-glory?”</p> + +<p>The little girl saw what a mistake she +had made; the boy just gave her <i>one +look</i>, and she cowered down into the +papa's lap, and the papa went on.</p> + +<p>“Well, they had an extra big Thanksgiving +at the farmer's that day. Lots +of the relations came from out West; +the grandmother, who was living with +the farmer, was getting pretty old, and +every year or two she thought she wasn't +going to live very much longer, and she +wrote to the relations in Wisconsin, and +everywhere, that if they expected to see +her alive again, they had better come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +this time, and bring all their families. +She kept doing it till she was about +ninety, and then she just concluded to +live along and not mind how old she +was. But this was just before her +eighty-ninth birthday, and she had +drummed up so many sons and sons-in-law, +and daughters and daughters-in-law, +and grandsons and great-grandsons, +and granddaughters and great-granddaughters, +that the house was perfectly +packed with them. They had to sleep +on the floor, a good many of them, and +you could hardly step for them; the +boys slept in the barn, and they laughed +and cut up so the whole night that the +roosters thought it was morning, and +kept crowing till they made their throats +sore, and had to wear wet compresses +round them every night for a week +afterwards.”</p> + +<p>When the papa said anything like +this the children had a right to pound +him, but they were so anxious not to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +have him stop, that this time they did +not do it. They said, “Go on, go on!” +and the little girl said, “And then the +tables!”</p> + +<p>“Tables? Well, I should think so! +They got all the tables there were in +the house, up stairs and down, for dinner +Thanksgiving Day, and they took +the grandmother's work-stand and put +it at the head, and she sat down there; +only she was so used to knitting by that +table that she kept looking for her +knitting-needles all through dinner, and +couldn't seem to remember what it was +she was missing. The other end of the +table was the carpenter's bench that +they brought in out of the barn, and +they put the youngest and funniest papa +at that. The tables stretched from the +kitchen into the dining-room, and clear +through that out into the hall, and +across into the parlor. They hadn't +table-cloths enough to go the whole +length, and the end of the carpenter's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +bench, where the funniest papa sat, was +bare, and all through dinner-time he +kept making fun. The vise was right +at the corner, and when he got his help +of turkey, he pretended that it was so +tough he had to fasten the bone in the +vise, and cut the meat off with his knife +like a draw-shave.”</p> + +<p>“It was the drumstick, I suppose, +papa?” said the boy. “A turkey's drumstick +is all full of little wooden splinters, +anyway.”</p> + +<p>“And what did the mamma say?” +asked the little girl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 625px;"><a name="illus_5" id="illus_5"></a> +<img src="images/i006.jpg" width="625" height="600" alt=""CAUGHT HIS TROUSERS ON A SHINGLE-NAIL, AND STUCK."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“CAUGHT HIS TROUSERS ON A SHINGLE-NAIL, AND STUCK.”</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, she kept saying, ‘Now you behave!’ +and, ‘Well, I should think you'd +be ashamed!’ but the funniest papa didn't +mind her a bit; and everybody laughed +till they could hardly stand it. All this +time the boys were out in the barn, +waiting for the second table, and playing +round. The farmer's boy went up +to his room over the wood-shed, and got +in at the garret window, and brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +out the pumpkin-glory. Only he began +to slip when he was coming down the +roof, and he'd have slipped clear off if +he hadn't caught his trousers on a shingle-nail, +and stuck. It made a pretty +bad tear, but the other boys pinned it +up so that it wouldn't show, and the +pumpkin-glory wasn't hurt a bit. They +all said that it was about the best jack-o'-lantern +they almost ever saw, on account +of the long neck there was to it; +and they made a plan to stick the end +of the neck into the top of the pump, +and have fun hearing what the folks +would say when they came out after +dark and saw it all lit up; and then +they noticed the pigpen at the corner +of the barn, and began to plague the +pig, and so many of them got up on the +pen that they broke the middle board +off; and they didn't like to nail it on +again because it was Thanksgiving Day, +and you mustn't hammer or anything; +so they just stuck it up in its place with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +a piece of wood against it, and the boy +said he would fix it in the morning.</p> + +<p>“The grown folks stayed so long at +the table that it was nearly dark when +the boys got to it, and they would have +been almost starved if the farm-boy +hadn't brought out apples and doughnuts +every little while. As it was, they +were pretty hungry, and they began on +the pumpkin pie at once, so as to keep +eating till the mother and the other +mothers that were helping could get +some of the things out of the oven that +they had been keeping hot for the boys. +The pie was so nice that they kept eating +at it all along, and the mother told +them about the good little pumpkin that +it was made of, and how the good little +pumpkin had never had any wish from +the time it was nothing but a seed, except +to grow up and be made into pies +and eaten at Thanksgiving; and they +must all try to be good, too, and grow +up and do likewise. The boys didn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +say anything, because their mouths were +so full, but they looked at each other +and winked their left eyes. There were +about forty or fifty of them, and when +they all winked their left eyes it made +it so dark you could hardly see; and +the mother got the lamp; but the other +mothers saw what the boys were doing, +and they just shook them till they +opened their eyes and stopped their mischief.”</p> + +<p>“Show how they looked!” said the +boy.</p> + +<p>“I can't show how fifty boys looked,” +said the papa. “But they looked a +good deal like the pumpkin-glory that +was waiting quietly in the barn for +them to get through, and come out and +have some fun with it. When they +had all eaten so much that they could +hardly stand up, they got down from +the table, and grabbed their hats, and +started for the door. But they had to +go out the back way, because the table<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +took up the front entry, and that gave +the farmer's boy a chance to find a +piece of candle out in the kitchen and +some matches; and then they rushed +to the barn. It was so dark there already +that they thought they had better +light up the pumpkin-glory and try +it. They lit it up, and it worked splendidly; +but they forgot to put out the +match, and it caught some straw on the +barn floor, and a little more and it would +have burnt the barn down. The boys +stamped the fire out in about half a +second; and after that they waited till +it was dark outside before they lit up +the pumpkin-glory again. Then they +all bent down over it to keep the wind +from blowing the match anywhere, and +pretty soon it was lit up, and the farmer's +boy took the pumpkin-glory by its +long neck, and stuck the point in the +hole in the top of the pump; and just +then the funniest papa came round the +corner of the wood-house, and said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>“‘What have you got there, boys? +Jack-o'-lantern? Well, well. That's a +good one!’</p> + +<p>“He came up and looked at the pumpkin-glory, +and he bent back and he bent +forward, and he doubled down and he +straightened up, and laughed till the boys +thought he was going to kill himself.</p> + +<p>“They had all intended to burst into +an Indian yell, and dance round the +pumpkin-glory; but the funniest papa +said, ‘Now all you fellows keep still +half a minute,’ and the next thing they +knew he ran into the house, and came +out, walking his wife before him with +both his hands over her eyes. Then +the boys saw he was going to have +some fun with her, and they kept as +still as mice, and waited till he walked +her up to the pumpkin-glory; and she +was saying all the time, ‘Now, John, if +this is some of your fooling, I'll <i>give</i> +it to you.’ When he got her close up +he took away his hands, and she gave a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +kind of a whoop, and then she began to +laugh, the pumpkin-glory <i>was</i> so funny, +and to chase the funniest papa all round +the yard to box his ears, and as soon as +she had boxed them she said, ‘Now +let's go in and send the rest out,’ and in +about a quarter of a second all the other +papas came out, holding their hands +over the other mothers' eyes till they +got them up to the pumpkin-glory; and +then there was such a yelling and laughing +and chasing and ear-boxing that +you never heard anything like it; and +all at once the funniest papa hallooed +out: ‘Where's gramma? Gramma's got +to see it! Grandma'll enjoy it. It's +just gramma's kind of joke,’ and then +the mothers all got round him and said +he shouldn't fool the grandmother, anyway; +and he said he wasn't going to: +he was just going to bring her out and +let her see it; and his wife went along +with him to watch that he didn't begin +acting up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>“The grandmother had been sitting +all alone in her room ever since dinner; +because she was always afraid somehow +that if you enjoyed yourself it was a +sign you were going to suffer for it, and +she had enjoyed herself a good deal +that day, and she was feeling awfully +about it. When the funniest papa and +his wife came in she said, ‘What is it? +What is it? Is the world a-burnin' up? +Well, you got to wrap up warm, then, +or you'll ketch your death o' cold runnin' +and then stoppin' to rest with your +pores all open!’</p> + +<p>“The funniest papa's wife she went +up and kissed her, and said, ‘No, grandmother, +the world's all right,’ and then +she told her just how it was, and how +they wanted her to come out and see the +jack-o'-lantern, just to please the children; +and she must come, anyway; because +it was the funniest jack-o'-lantern +there ever was, and then she told how +the funniest papa had fooled her, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +then how they had got the other papas +to fool the other mothers, and they had +all had the greatest fun then you ever +saw. All the time she kept putting on +her things for her, and the grandmother +seemed to get quite in the notion, and +she laughed a little, and they thought +she was going to enjoy it as much as +anybody; they really did, because they +were all very tender of her, and they +wouldn't have scared her for anything, +and everybody kept cheering her up and +telling her how much they knew she +would like it, till they got her to the +pump. The little pumpkin-glory was +feeling awfully proud and self-satisfied; +for it had never seen any flower or any +vegetable treated with half so much +honor by human beings. It wasn't sure +at first that it was very nice to be laughed +at so much, but after a while it began +to conclude that the papas and the +mammas were just laughing at the joke +of the whole thing. When the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +grandmother got up close, it thought it +would do something extra to please her; +or else the heat of the candle had dried +it up so that it cracked without intending +to. Anyway, it tried to give a very +broad grin, and all of a sudden it split +its mouth from ear to ear.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;"><a name="illus_6" id="illus_6"></a> +<img src="images/i007.jpg" width="750" height="507" alt=""'MY SAKES! IT'S COMIN' TO LIFE!'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“‘MY SAKES! IT'S COMIN' TO LIFE!’”</span> +</div> + +<p>“You didn't say it had any ears before,” +said the boy.</p> + +<p>“No; it had them behind,” said the +papa; and the boy felt like giving him +just one pound; but he thought it might +stop the story, and so he let the papa +go on.</p> + +<p>“As soon as the grandmother saw it +open its mouth that way she just gave +one scream, ‘My sakes! It's comin' to +life!’ And she threw up her arms, and +she threw up her feet, and if the funniest +papa hadn't been there to catch her, +and if there hadn't been forty or fifty +other sons and daughters, and grandsons +and daughters, and great-grandsons and +great-granddaughters, very likely she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +might have fallen. As it was, they piled +round her, and kept her up; but there +were so many of them they jostled the +pump, and the first thing the pumpkin-glory +knew, it fell down and burst open; +and the pig that the boys had plagued, +and that had kept squealing all the time +because it thought that the people had +come out to feed it, knocked the loose +board off its pen, and flew out and gobbled +the pumpkin-glory up, candle and +all, and that was the end of the proud +little pumpkin-glory.”</p> + +<p>“And when the pig ate the candle it +looked like the magician when he puts +burning tow in his mouth,” said the +boy.</p> + +<p>“Exactly,” said the papa.</p> + +<p>The children were both silent for a +moment. Then the boy said, “This story +never had any moral, I believe, papa?”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit,” said the papa. “Unless,” +he added, “the moral was that you had +better not be ambitious, unless you want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +to come to the sad end of this proud +little pumpkin-glory.”</p> + +<p>“Why, but the good little pumpkin +was eaten up, too,” said the boy.</p> + +<p>“That's true,” the papa acknowledged.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the little girl, “there's +a great deal of difference between being +eaten by persons and eaten by pigs.”</p> + +<p>“All the difference in the world,” said +the papa; and he laughed, and ran out +of the library before the boy could get +at him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="illus_7" id="illus_7"></a> +<img src="images/i008.jpg" width="600" height="309" alt="Tail-piece" title="" /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span><a name="BUTTERFLYFLUTTERBY_AND" id="BUTTERFLYFLUTTERBY_AND"></a>BUTTERFLYFLUTTERBY AND +FLUTTERBYBUTTERFLY.</h2> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<h2><img src="images/i009.jpg" width="600" height="202" alt="Butterflyflutterby and Flutterbybutterfly" title="" /></h2> +</div> + + +<p>One morning when the papa was on +a visit to the grandfather, the nephew +and the niece came rushing into his room +and got into bed with him. He pretended +to be asleep, and even when they +grabbed hold of him and shook him, he +just let his teeth clatter, and made no +sign of waking up. But they knew he +was fooling, and they kept shaking him +till he opened his eyes and looked round, +and said, “Oh, oh! where am I?” as if +he were all bewildered.</p> + +<p>“You're in bed with <i>us</i>!” they shouted; +and they acted as if they were +afraid he would try to get away from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +them by the way they held on to his +arms.</p> + +<p>But he lay quite still, and he only +said, “I should say <i>you</i> were in bed with +<i>me</i>. It seems to be my bed.”</p> + +<p>“It's the same thing!” said the +nephew.</p> + +<p>“How do you make that out?” asked +the papa. “It's the same thing if it's +enchantment. But if it isn't, it isn't.”</p> + +<p>The niece said, “What enchantment?” +for she thought that would be a pretty +good chance to get what they had come +for.</p> + +<p>She was perfectly delighted, and gave +a joyful thrill all over when the papa +said, “Oh, that's a long story.”</p> + +<p>“Well, the longer the better, <i>I</i> should +say; shouldn't you, brother?” she returned.</p> + +<p>The nephew hemmed twice in his +throat, and asked, drowsily, “Is it a +little-pig story, or a fairy-prince story?” +for he had heard from his cousins that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +their papa would tell you a little-pig +story if he got the chance; and you had +to look out and ask him which it was +going to be beforehand.</p> + +<p>“Well, I can't tell,” said the papa. +“It's a fairy-prince story to begin with, +but it may turn out a little-pig story +before it gets to the end. It depends +upon how the Prince behaves. But <i>I'm</i> +not anxious to tell it,” and the papa put +his face into the pillow and pretended +to fall instantly asleep again.</p> + +<p>“Now, brother, you see!” said the +niece. “Being so particular!”</p> + +<p>“Well, sister,” said the nephew, “it +wasn't my fault. I <i>had</i> to ask him. +You know what they said.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose we've got to wake +him up all over again,” said the niece, +with a little sigh; and they began +to pull at the papa this way and that, +but they could not budge him. As +soon as they stopped, he opened his +eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Now don't say, ‘Where am I?’” +said the niece.</p> + +<p>The papa could not help laughing, because +that was just the very thing he +was going to say. “Well, all right! +What about that story? Do you want +to hear it, and take your chances of its +being a Prince to the end?”</p> + +<p>“I suppose we'll have to; won't we, +sister?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we'll leave it all to you, uncle,” +said the niece; and she thought she +would coax him up a little, and so she +went on: “I know you won't be mean +about it. Will he, brother?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the nephew. “I'll bet +the Prince will keep a Prince all the +way through. What'll <i>you</i> bet, sister?”</p> + +<p>“I won't bet anything,” said the +niece, and she put her arm round the +papa's neck, and pressed her cheek up +against his. “I'll just leave it to uncle, +and if it <i>does</i> turn into a little-pig story, +it'll be for the moral.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>The nephew was not quite sure what +a moral was; but at the bottom of his +heart he would just as soon have it a +little-pig story as not. He had got to +thinking how funny a little pig would +look in a Prince's clothes, and he said, +“Yes, it'll be for the moral.”</p> + +<p>The papa was very contrary that +morning. “Well,” said he, “I don't +know about that. I'm not sure there's +going to be any moral.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, goody!” said the niece, and she +clapped her hands in great delight. +“Then it's going to be a Prince story +all through!”</p> + +<p>“If you interrupt me in that way, it's +not going to be any story at all.”</p> + +<p>“I didn't know you had begun it, +uncle,” pleaded the niece.</p> + +<p>“Well, I hadn't. But I was just going +to.” The papa lay quiet a while. +The fact is, he had not thought up any +story at all; and he was so tired of all +the stories he used to tell his own chil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>dren +that he could not bear to tell one +of them, though he knew very well +that the niece and nephew would be +just as glad of it as if it were new, and +maybe gladder; for they had heard a +great deal about these stories, how perfectly +splendid they were—like the +Pumpkin-Glory, and the Little Pig that +took the Poison Pills, and the Proud +Little Horse-car that fell in Love with +the Pullman Sleeper, and Jap Doll +Hopsing's Adventures in Crossing the +Continent, and the Enchantment of the +Greedy Travellers, and the Little Boy +whose Legs turned into Bicycle Wheels. +At last the papa said, “This is a very +peculiar kind of a story. It's about a +Prince and a Princess.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” went both of the children; +and then they stopped themselves, and +stuffed the covering into their mouths.</p> + +<p>The papa lifted himself on his elbow +and stared severely at them, first at one, +and then at the other. “Have you fin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>ished?” +he asked, as if they had interrupted +him; but he really wanted to +gain time, so as to think up a story of +some kind. The children were afraid +to say anything, and the papa went on +with freezing politeness: “Because if +you have, I might like to say something +myself. This story is about a Prince +and a Princess, but the thing of it is +that they had names almost exactly +alike. They were twins; the Prince +was a boy and the Princess was a girl; +that was a point that their fairy godmother +carried against the wicked enchantress +who tried to have it just the +other way; but it made the wicked enchantress +so mad that the fairy godmother +had to give in to her a little, and +let them be named almost exactly alike.”</p> + +<p>Here the papa stopped, and after +waiting for him to go on, the nephew +ventured to ask, very respectfully indeed, +“Would you mind telling us what +their names were, uncle?”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>The papa rubbed his forehead. “I +have such a bad memory for names. +Hold on! Wait a minute! I remember +now! Their names were Butterflyflutterby +and Flutterbybutterfly.” Of +course he had just thought up the names.</p> + +<p>“And which was which, uncle dear?” +asked the niece, not only very respectfully, +but very affectionately, too; she +was so afraid he would get mad again, +and stop altogether.</p> + +<p>“Why, I should think you would +know a girl's name when you heard it. +Butterflyflutterby was the Prince and +Flutterbybutterfly was the Princess.”</p> + +<p>“I don't see how we're ever going to +keep them apart,” sighed the niece.</p> + +<p>“You've <i>got</i> to keep them apart,” +said the papa. “Because it's the great +thing about the story that if you can't +remember which is the Prince and which +is the Princess whenever I ask you, the +story has to stop. It can't help it, and +<i>I</i> can't help it.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p>They knew he was just setting a trap +for them, and the same thought struck +them both at once. They rose up and +leaned over the papa, with their arms +across and their fluffy heads together +in the form of a capital letter A, and +whispered in each other's ears, “You +say it's one, and I'll say it's the other, +and then we'll have it right between +us.”</p> + +<p>They dropped back and pulled the +covering up to their chins, and shouted, +“Don't you tell! don't you tell!” and +just perfectly wriggled with triumph.</p> + +<p>The papa had heard every word; +they were laughing so that they whispered +almost as loud as talking; but he +pretended that he had not understood, +and he made up his mind that he would +have them yet. “A little and a more,” +he said, “and I should never have gone +on again.”</p> + +<p>“Go on! Go on!” they called out, +and then they wriggled and giggled till<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +anybody would have thought they were +both crazy.</p> + +<p>“Well, where was I?” This was another +of the papa's tricks to gain time. +Whenever he could not think of anything +more, he always asked, “Well, +where was I?” He now added: “Oh +yes! I remember! Well, once there +were a Prince and a Princess, and their +names were Butterflyflutterby and Flutterbybutterfly; +and they were both +twins, and both orphans; but they made +their home with their fairy godmother +as long as they were little, and they +used to help her about the house for +part board, and she helped them about +their kingdom, and kept it in good order +for them, and left them plenty of +time to play and enjoy themselves. She +was the greatest person for order there +ever was; and if she found a speck of +dust or dirt on the kingdom anywhere, +she would have out the whole army +and make them wash it up, and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +sand-paper the place, and polish it with +a coarse towel till it perfectly glistened. +The father of the Prince and Princess +had taken the precaution, before he +died, to subdue all his enemies; and the +consequence was that the longest kind +of peace had set in, and the army had +nothing to do but keep the kingdom +clean. That was the reason why the +fairy godmother had made the General-in-Chief +take their guns away, and +arm them with long feather-dusters. +They marched with the poles on their +shoulders, and carried the dusters in +their belts, like bayonets; and whenever +they came to a place that the fairy godmother +said needed dusting—she always +went along with them in a diamond +chariot—she made the General +halloo out: ‘Fix dusters! Make ready! +Aim! Dust!’ And then the place +would be cleaned up. But the General-in-Chief +used to go out behind the +church and cry, it mortified him so to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +have to give such orders, and it reminded +him so painfully of the good +old times when he would order his men +to charge the enemy, and cover the field +with gore and blood, instead of having +it so awfully spick-and-span as it was +now. Still he did what the fairy godmother +told him, because he said it was +his duty; and he kept his troops supplied +with sudsine and dustene, to clean +up with, and brushes and towels. The +fairy godmother—”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"><a name="illus_8" id="illus_8"></a> +<img src="images/i010.jpg" width="800" height="549" alt=""'FIX DUSTERS! MAKE READY! AIM! DUST!'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“‘FIX DUSTERS! MAKE READY! AIM! DUST!’”</span> +</div> + +<p>“Excuse me, uncle,” said the nephew, +with extreme deference, “but I should +just like to ask you one question. Will +you let me?”</p> + +<p>“What is it?” said the papa, in the +grimmest kind of manner he could put +on.</p> + +<p>“Ah, brother!” murmured the niece; +for she knew that he was rather sarcastic, +and she was afraid that something +ironical was coming.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 428px;"><a name="illus_9" id="illus_9"></a> +<img src="images/i011.jpg" width="428" height="600" alt=""THE GENERAL-IN-CHIEF USED TO GO BEHIND +THE CHURCH AND CRY."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“THE GENERAL-IN-CHIEF USED TO GO BEHIND +THE CHURCH AND CRY.”</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +</div> + +<p>“Well, I just wanted to ask whether<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +this story was about the fairy godmother, +or about the Prince and Princess.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, now,” said the papa. +“You've asked your question. I didn't +promise to answer it, and I'm happy to +say it stops the story. I'll guess <i>I'll</i> go +to sleep again. I don't like being waked +up this way in the middle of the night, +anyhow.”</p> + +<p>“Now, brother, I hope you're satisfied!” +said the niece.</p> + +<p>The nephew evaded the point. He +said: “Well, sister, if the story really +isn't going on, I should like to ask +uncle another question. How big was +the fairy godmother's diamond chariot?”</p> + +<p>“It was the usual sized chariot,” answered +the papa.</p> + +<p>“Whew! It must have been a pretty +big diamond, then!”</p> + +<p>“It was a <i>very</i> big diamond,” said +the papa; and he seemed to forget all +about being mad, or else he had thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +up some more of the story to tell, for +he went on just as if nothing had happened. +“The fairy godmother was so +severe with the dirt she found because +it was a royal prerogative—that is, nobody +but the King, or the King's family, +had a right to make a mess, and if +other people did it, they were infringing +on the royal prerogative.</p> + +<p>“You know,” the papa explained, +“that in old times and countries the +royal family have been allowed to do +things that no other family would have +been associated with if they had done +them. That is about the only use there +is in having a royal family. But the +fairy godmother of Prince—”</p> + +<p>“Butterflyflutterby,” said the niece.</p> + +<p>“And Princess—”</p> + +<p>“Flutterbybutterfly,” said the nephew.</p> + +<p>“Correct,” said the papa.</p> + +<p>The children rose up into a capital A +again, and whispered, “He didn't catch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +us <i>that</i> time,” and fell back, laughing, +and the papa had to go on.</p> + +<p>“The fairy godmother thought she +would try to bring up the Prince and +Princess rather better than most Princes +and Princesses were brought up, and so +she said that the only thing they should +be allowed to do different from other +people was to make a mess. If any +other persons were caught making a +mess they were banished; and there +was another law that was perfectly awful.”</p> + +<p>“What-was-it-go-ahead?” said the +nephew, running all his words together, +he was so anxious to know.</p> + +<p>“Why, if any person was found clearing +up anywhere, and it turned out to +be a mess that the royal twins had +made, the person was thrown from a +tower.”</p> + +<p>“Did it kill them?” the niece inquired, +rather faintly.</p> + +<p>“Well, no, it didn't <i>kill</i> them exact<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>ly, +but it bounced them up pretty high. +You see, they fell on a bed of India-rubber +about twenty feet deep. It gave +them a good scare; and that's the great +thing in throwing persons from a high +tower.”</p> + +<p>The nephew hastened to improve the +opportunity which seemed to be given +for asking questions.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean exactly by making +a mess, uncle?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, scattering scraps of paper about, +or scuffing the landscape, or getting jam +or molasses on the face of nature, or +having bonfires in the back yard of the +palace, or leaving dolls around on the +throne. But what did I say about asking +questions? Now there's another +thing about this story: when it comes +to the exciting part, if you move the +least bit, or even breathe loud, the story +stops, just as if you didn't know which +was the Prince and which was the Princess. +<i>Now</i> do you understand?”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>The children both said “Yes” in a +very small whisper, and cowered down +almost under the clothing, and held on +tight, so as to keep from +stirring.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 614px;"><a name="illus_10" id="illus_10"></a> +<img src="images/i012.jpg" width="614" height="500" alt=""THE YOUNG KHAN AND KHANT +ENTERED THE KINGDOM WITH A +MAGNIFICENT RETINUE."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“THE YOUNG KHAN AND KHANT +ENTERED THE KINGDOM WITH A +MAGNIFICENT RETINUE.”</span> +</div> + +<p>The papa went +on: “Well, +about the +time they +had got +these two +laws in full +force, and +forty or +fifty thousand +boys +girls had been +banished for making +a mess, and pretty +nearly all the neat +old ladies in the kingdom +had been thrown +from a high tower +for cleaning up after the Prince and Princess +Butterflyflutterby and Flutterby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>butterfly, +the young Khan and Khant of +Tartary entered the kingdom with a +magnificent retinue of followers, to select +a bride and groom from the children +of the royal family. As there were no +children in the royal family except the +twins, the choice of the Khan and Khant +naturally fell upon the Prince—”</p> + +<p>“Butterflyflutterby!”</p> + +<p>“And the Princess—”</p> + +<p>“Flutterbybutterfly!”</p> + +<p>“Correct. It also happened that the +Khan and the Khant were brother and +sister; but if you can't tell which was +the brother and which was the sister, +the story stops at this point.”</p> + +<p>“Why, but, uncle,” said the little girl, +reproachfully, “you haven't ever told +us which is which yourself yet!”</p> + +<p>“I know it. Because I'm waiting to +find out. You see, with these Asiatic +names it's impossible sometimes to tell +which is which. You have to wait and +see how they will act. If there had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +been a battle anywhere, and one of +them had screamed, and run away, then +I suppose I should have been pretty +sure it was the sister; but even then I +shouldn't know which was the Khan +and which was the Khant.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what are we going to do about +it, then?” asked the nephew.</p> + +<p>“I don't know,” said the papa. “We +shall just have to keep on and see. Perhaps +when they meet the Prince and +Princess we shall find out. I don't suppose +a boy would fall in love with a +boy.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the niece; “but he might +want to go off with him and have fun, +or something.”</p> + +<p>“That's true,” said the papa. “We've +got to all watch out. Of course the +Khan and the Khant scuffed the landscape +awfully, as they came along +through the kingdom, and got the face +of nature all daubed up with marmalade—they +were the greatest persons<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +for marmalade—and when they reached +the palace of the Prince and Princess +they had to camp out in the back yard, +and they had to have bonfires to cook +by, and they made a frightful mess.</p> + +<p>“Well, there was the greatest excitement +about it that there ever was. The +General-in-Chief kept his men under +arms night and day, and the fairy godmother +was so worked up she almost +had a brain-fever; and if she had not +taken six of aconite every night when +she went to bed she <i>would</i> have had. +You see, the question was what to do +about the mess that the Khan and +Khant made. They were visitors, and +it wouldn't have been polite to banish +them; and they belonged to a royal +family, and so nobody dared to clean up +after them. The whole kingdom was +in the most disgusting state, and whenever +the fairy godmother looked into +the back yard of the palace she felt as +if she would go through the floor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"><a name="illus_11" id="illus_11"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +<img src="images/i013.jpg" width="800" height="520" alt=""SHE WAS GOING TO TAKE THE CASE INTO HER OWN HANDS."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“SHE WAS GOING TO TAKE THE CASE INTO HER OWN HANDS.”</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, it kept on going from bad to +worse. The only person that enjoyed +herself was the wicked enchantress; <i>she</i> +never had such a good time in her life; +and when the fairy godmother got hold +of the Grand Vizier and the Cadi, and +told them to make a new law so as to +allow the army to clean up after royal +visitors, without being thrown from a +high tower, the wicked enchantress enchanted +the whole mess, so that the +army could not tell which the Prince +and Princess had made, and which the +Khan and Khant had made; they were +all four always playing together, anyway.</p> + +<p>“It seemed as if the poor old fairy +godmother would go perfectly wild, and +she almost made the General crazy giving +orders in one breath, and taking +them back in the next. She said that +now something had got to be done; she +had stood it long enough; and she was +going to take the case into her own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +hands. She saw that she should have +no peace of her life till the Prince and +Princess and the Khan and Khant were +married. She sent for the head Imam, +and told him to bring those children +right in and marry them, and she would +be responsible.</p> + +<p>“The Imam put his head to the floor—and +it was pretty hard on him, for he +was short and stout, and he had to do +it kind of sideways—and said to hear +was to obey; but he could not marry +them unless he knew which was which.</p> + +<p>“The fairy godmother screamed out: +‘I don't <i>care</i> which is which! Marry +them all, just as they are!’</p> + +<p>“But when she came to think it over, +she saw that this would not do, and so +she tried to invent some way out of the +trouble. One morning she woke up +with a splendid idea, and she could +hardly wait to have breakfast before +she sent for the General-in-Chief. Her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +nerves were all gone, and as soon as she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +saw him, she yelled at him: ‘A sham +battle—to-day—now—this very instant! +Right away, right away, right +away!’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"><a name="illus_12" id="illus_12"></a> +<img src="images/i014.jpg" width="800" height="548" alt=""THE IMAM PUT HIS HEAD TO THE FLOOR."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“THE IMAM PUT HIS HEAD TO THE FLOOR.”</span> +</div> + +<p>“The General got her to explain herself, +and then he understood that she +wanted him to have a grand review and +sham battle of all the troops, in honor +of the Khan and Khant; and the whole +court had to be present, and especially +the timidest of the ladies, that would +almost scare a person to death by the +way they screamed when they were +frightened. The General was just going +to say that the guns and cannon +had all got rusty, and the powder was +spoiled from not having been used for +so long, with the everlasting cleaning up +that had been going on; but the fairy +godmother stamped her foot and sent +him flying. So the only thing he could +do was to set all the gnomes at work +making guns and cannon and powder, +and about twelve o'clock they had them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +ready, and just after lunch the sham +battle began.</p> + +<p>“The troops marched and counter-marched, +and fired away the whole afternoon, +and sprang mines and blew up +magazines, and threw cannon crackers +and cannon torpedoes. There was such +an awful din and racket that you couldn't +hear yourself think, and some of the +court ladies were made perfectly sick by +it. They all asked to be excused, but +the fairy godmother wouldn't excuse +one of them. She just kept them there +on the seats round the battle-field, and +let them shriek themselves hoarse. So +many of them fainted that they had to +have the garden hose brought, and they +kept it sprinkling away on their faces +all the afternoon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"><a name="illus_13" id="illus_13"></a> +<img src="images/i015.jpg" width="800" height="414" alt=""THEY BEGAN TO SCREAM, 'OH, THE COW! THE COW!'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“THEY BEGAN TO SCREAM, ‘OH, THE COW! THE COW!’”</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +</div> + +<p>“But it was a failure as far as the +Khan and the Khant were concerned. +The fairy godmother expected that as +soon as the loudest firing began, the +girl, whichever it was, would scream,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +and so they would know which was +which. But the Khan and Khant's father +had been a famous warrior, and he +had been in the habit of taking his children +to battle with him from their earliest +years, partly because his wife was +dead and he didn't dare trust them +with the careless nurse at home, and +partly because he wanted to harden +their nerves. So now they just clapped +their hands, and enjoyed the sham battle +down to the ground.</p> + +<p>“About sunset the fairy godmother +gave it up. She had to, anyway. The +troops had shot away all their powder, +and the gnomes couldn't make any more +till the next day. So she set out to return +to the city, with all the court following +her diamond chariot, and I can +tell you she felt pretty gloomy. She +told the Grand Vizier that now she +didn't see any end to the trouble, and +she was just going into hysterics when +a barefooted boy came along driving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +his cow home from the pasture. The +fairy godmother didn't mind it much, +for she was in her chariot; but the +court ladies were on foot, and they began +to scream, ‘Oh, the cow! the cow!’ +and to take hold of the knights, and to +get on to the fence, till it was perfectly +packed with them; and who do you +think the fairy godmother found had +scrambled up on top of her chariot?”</p> + +<p>The nephew and niece were afraid to +risk a guess, and the papa had to say:</p> + +<p>“The Khant! The fairy godmother +pulled her inside and hugged her and +kissed her, she was so glad to find out +that she was the one; and she stopped +the procession on the spot, and she called +up the Imam, and he married the Khant +to Prince—”</p> + +<p>The papa stopped, and as the niece +and nephew hesitated, he said, very +sternly, “Well?”</p> + +<p>The fact is, they had got so mixed up +about the Khan and the Khant of Tar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>tary +that they had forgotten which was +Butterflyflutterby and which was Flutterbybutterfly. +They tried, shouting +out one the one and the other the other, +but the papa said:</p> + +<p>“Oh no! That won't work. I've +had that sort of thing tried on me before, +and it <i>never</i> works. <i>I</i> heard you +whispering what you would do, and you +have simply added the crime of double-dealing +to the crime of inattention. The +story has stopped, and stopped forever.”</p> + +<p>The nephew stretched himself and +then sat up in bed. “Well, it had got +to the end, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, <i>had</i> it? What became of the +wicked enchantress?” The nephew lay +down again, in considerable dismay.</p> + +<p>“Uncle,” said the niece, very coaxingly, +“<i>I</i> didn't say it had come to the end.”</p> + +<p>“But it has,” said the papa. “And +I'm mighty glad you forgot the Prince's +name, for the rule of this story is that +it has to go on as long as any one listen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>ing +remembers, and it might have gone +on forever.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose,” the nephew said, “a person +may guess?”</p> + +<p>“He may, if he guesses right. If he +guesses wrong, he has to be thrown from +a high tower—the same one the wicked +enchantress was thrown from.”</p> + +<p>“There!” shouted the nephew; “you +said you wouldn't tell. How high was +the tower, anyway, uncle? As high as +the Eiffel Tower in Paris?”</p> + +<p>“Not quite. It was three feet and +five inches high.”</p> + +<p>“Ho! Then the enchantress was a +dwarf!”</p> + +<p>“Who said she was a dwarf?”</p> + +<p>“There wouldn't be any use throwing +her from the tower if she wasn't.”</p> + +<p>“I didn't say it was any use. They +just did it for ornament.”</p> + +<p>This made the nephew so mad that +he began to dig the papa with his fist, +and the papa began to laugh. He said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +as well as he could for laughing: “You +see, the trouble was to keep her from +bouncing up higher than the top of the +tower. She was light weight, anyway, +because she was a witch; and after the +first bounce they had to have two executioners +to keep throwing her down—a +day executioner and a night executioner; +and she went so fast up and +down that she was just like a solid column +of enchantress. She enjoyed it first-rate, +but it kept her out of mischief.”</p> + +<p>“Now, uncle,” said the niece, “you're +just letting yourself go. What did the +fairy godmother do after they all got +married?”</p> + +<p>“Well, the story don't say exactly. +But there's a report that when she became +a fairy grandgodmother, she was +not half so severe about cleaning up, and +let the poor old General-in-Chief have +some peace of his life—or some war. +There was a rebellion among the genii +not long afterwards, and the General was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +about ten or fifteen years putting them +down.”</p> + +<p>The nephew had been lying quiet a +moment. Now he began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“What are you laughing at?” demanded +his uncle.</p> + +<p>“The way that Khant scrambled up +on top of the chariot when the cow +came along. Just like a girl. They're +all afraid of cows.”</p> + +<p>The tears came into the niece's eyes; +she had a great many feelings, and they +were easily hurt, especially her feelings +about girls.</p> + +<p>“Well, she wasn't afraid of the cannon, +anyway.”</p> + +<p>“That is a very just remark,” said the +uncle. “And now what do you say to +breakfast?”</p> + +<p>The children sprang out of bed, and +tried which could beat to the door. +They forgot to thank the uncle, but he +did not seem to have expected any +thanks.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Christmas Every Day and Other Stories, by +W. D. 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