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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:12:30 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:12:30 -0700 |
| commit | 058aebd4c0e16b02249058781c2d1746e9908094 (patch) | |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/24130-h.zip b/24130-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..60f59ef --- /dev/null +++ b/24130-h.zip diff --git a/24130-h/24130-h.htm b/24130-h/24130-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c4fcc9 --- /dev/null +++ b/24130-h/24130-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3463 @@ +<!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 Andiron Tales, by John Kendrick Bangs. + </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; + } + + img {border: 0} + 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: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .trnote {background-color: #EEE; color: inherit; margin: 2em 5% 1em 5%; font-size: 80%; + padding: 0.5em 1em 0.5em 1em; border: dotted 1px gray;} + .padding {padding-bottom: 2em; padding-top: 2em;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .right {text-align: right;} + .left {text-align: left;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Andiron Tales, by John Kendrick Bangs + +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: Andiron Tales + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + +Release Date: January 2, 2008 [EBook #24130] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDIRON TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Jason Isbell, Christine D. and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p><a name="Frontispiece" id="Frontispiece"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 357px;"> +<a href="images/img001.jpg"><img src="images/img001_th.jpg" width="357" height="522" alt=""Get him a mirror."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"Get him a mirror."</span> +</div> + + + +<div class='padding'> +<h1>ANDIRON<br /> +TALES</h1> + + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>JOHN KENDRICK BANGS</h2> + +<p class='center'> +ILLUSTRATED BY<br /> +CLARE VICTOR DWIGGINS<br /> +</p> + +<p class='center'> +THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.<br /> +PUBLISHERS<br /> +PHILADELPHIA</p> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<a href="images/title-page.jpg"><img src="images/title-page_th.jpg" width="393" height="522" alt="" title="" /></a> +</div> + + + + +<p class='center'> +COPYRIGHT, 1906,<br /> +BY<br /> +THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.<br /> +</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='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER I.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tom and the Andirons</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER II.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Story of Ebenezer</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER III.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Off in the Clouds</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER IV.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Poker Tells His Story</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER V.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Poker Concludes His Story</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER VI.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Literary Bellows</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER VII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">They Reach the Crescent Moon</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER VIII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">On the Trolley Cloud</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER IX.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">On the Oscycle—A Narrow Escape</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER X.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Home Again</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='padding'> +<div class='center'> +<table border="2" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr> +<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 41px;"> +<img src="images/illul.jpg" width="41" height="50" alt="" title="" /> +</div></td> +<td align='center'><h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2><br />BY CLARE VICTOR DWIGGINS</td> +<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 39px;"> +<img src="images/illur.jpg" width="39" height="45" alt="" title="" /> +</div></td></tr> +</table></div></div> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"Get him a mirror," said the Lefthandiron.</span> <br /><i>In colors</i></td><td align='left'><i><a href="#Frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">I'm not a Dormouse</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">A little tale which I will wag for you</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">And then die without paying for it</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Just what I wanted for my lunch</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Tried to bite my head off</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">A mouse with a door to him</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"There's no better place than this cloud," said the Poker.</span> <br /><i>In colors</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">In one ear and out of the other</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">A poker who could only poke</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">No," she said, "I'm not your mother, I am a Fairy."</span> <br /><i>In colors</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Doesn't have to live in a bathtub"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Eagles never have umbrellas</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">One day the woodcutters came</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">So I really live home</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">What's the use of fighting</span>?"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"I blow a story of two, now and then," said the Bellows.</span> <br /><i>In Colors</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">He Gave a Tremendous Wheeze</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Columbus was a great man</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">You see, it's this shape</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"Why, it's really a trolley!" he cried.</span> <br /><i>In colors</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">It keeps me jumping all the time</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">I haven't the money</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">On the Oscycle.</span> <br /><i>In colors</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">My own private iceberg</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Man from Saturn Jumped</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tom Jumped, and in a Moment was Sitting Astride the Great Bird's Neck.</span> <br /><i>In colors</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Upon the Anvil in his Sanctum</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Devouring His Favorite Author</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tom is Awakened by the Avalanche.</span> <br /><i>In colors</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tail Piece</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 101px;"> +<a href="images/logo.jpg"><img src="images/logo_th.jpg" width="101" height="55" alt="" title="" /></a> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='padding'> +<div class='center'> +<table border="2" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 44px;"> +<img src="images/circl.jpg" width="44" height="44" alt="" title="" /> +</div></td> +<td align='left'><h2><a name="Andiron_Tales" id="Andiron_Tales"></a>Andiron Tales</h2><br />By John Kendrick Bangs</td> +<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 44px;"> +<img src="images/circr.jpg" width="44" height="42" alt="" title="" /> +</div></td></tr> +</table></div></div> + + +<p class='center'><big>Being the Remarkable Adventures of a Boy<br /> +with a Lively Imagination</big></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>Tom and the Andirons</big></p> + + +<p>It was perfectly natural in one respect, anyhow. There was really no +reason in the world why Tom should not lie upon the great bear-skin rug in +front of the library fire those cold winter nights if he wanted to, nor +need anyone be surprised that he should want to. It was indeed a most +delightful place to lie in. The bear-skin was soft and in every way +comfortable and comforting. The fireplace itself was one of those huge +hospitable affairs that might pass in some apartment houses in our narrow +cooped-up city streets for a butler's pantry or small reception room—in +fact in the summer time Tom used to sit in the fireplace and pretend he +was in his office transacting business with such of his sister's dolls as +could be induced to visit him there; giving orders to imaginary clerks and +bookkeepers and keeping an equally fanciful office boy continually on the +run. And then apart from the rug and the fireplace it was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> beautiful +room in which they were. Tom's father was very fond of books, and, +although he was a great many years older than Tom, he had not forgotten +how to enjoy the very same kind of books that Tom liked. He was not +ashamed to have one little niche of his library filled with the stories +which had delighted him in his boyhood days, and which still continued to +please him, and, of course, this lent an additional charm to the library +in Tom's eyes. It held his heroes, and on some of those drowsy nights when +the only sounds to break the stillness of the room were the scratching of +his father's pen, the soft humming of some little tune by his mother +sitting and sewing by the evening lamp, and the fierce crackling of the +burning logs, Tom could almost see these heroes stepping down from the +shelves and like so many phantoms flitting in and about the room. In fact, +upon one occasion, Tom is convinced he did see these very people having a +dance upon the great tiled hearth—but of that you shall hear later.</p> + +<p>There were many other things in the library beside his heroes that +interested Tom. There was a little Japanese ivory god that used to sit up +on the mantel shelf and gaze wisely at him, as much as to say, "Dear me, +boy, what a lot I could tell you if I only would!" Then, too, there was a +very handsome vase on top of one of the book-cases that had two remarkable +dragons climbing up its sides, the tail of one of them so fixed that if +anyone chose to use the vase for a pitcher the tail would make a very +convenient handle, at which the other dragon always appeared to be +laughing heartily, which he had no reason to do, because his own tail was +not arranged any too gracefully. But the things that, next to Jack the +Giant Killer, and Beauty and the Beast, and Tom Thumb and his other +heroes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> and heroines, Tom liked the most, were two great brazen Andirons +that stood in the fireplace. To Tom these Andirons, though up to the night +when our story begins he had never seen them move, seemed almost to live. +They had big, round, good-natured faces, that shone like so much gold. +Their necks were slight and graceful, but as they developed downward +toward their handsome feet the Andirons grew more portly, until finally +they came to look very much like a pair of amiable sea serpents without +much length. Tom's uncle said they looked like cats, with sunflowers for +heads, swan necks for bodies, and very little of the cat about them save +the claws. This description made Tom laugh, but the more he thought about +it the more truthful did it seem to him to be.</p> + +<p>For so long a time as Tom could remember, summer and winter, those +Andirons had sat staring stolidly ahead in their accustomed place, and not +until that December night had they even so much as winked at him—but on +that occasion they more than made up for all their previous silence and +seeming unsociability. Tom was lying on the rug, as usual, and I am afraid +was almost asleep. The logs were burning fiercely and at first Tom thought +that the words he heard spoken were nothing but their crackling and +hissing, but in a minute he changed his mind about that for the very good +reason that the "Lefthandiron"—as Tom's uncle once called it—winked his +eye at Tom and said:</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Sleepyhead."</p> + +<p>Tom only returned the wink. He was too much surprised to say anything.</p> + +<p>"His name isn't Sleepyhead," said the Righthandiron, with a grin. "It's +Thomas D. Pate."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's the D for?" asked the other.</p> + +<p>"Dozy—Thomas Dozy Pate," exclaimed the Righthandiron. "His ancestors were +Sleepyheads on his mother's side, and Dozy Pates on his father's side."</p> + +<p>"'Tisn't so at all!" cried Tom, indignantly. "My mama wasn't a Sleepyhead, +and my name isn't Dozy Pate."</p> + +<p>"He's such a Sleepyhead he doesn't know his own name," said the +Lefthandiron.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 404px;"> +<a href="images/img012.jpg"><img src="images/img012_th.jpg" width="404" height="389" alt=""I'M NOT A DORMOUSE."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"I'M NOT A DORMOUSE."</span> +</div> + +<p>"That's a curious thing about the Sleepyheads and the Dozy Pates. They +very seldom know their own names—and even when they do they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> always deny +that they are what they are. Why I really believe if I told Tom here that +he was a Dormouse he'd deny it and say he was a boy."</p> + +<p>"I am a boy," said Tom, stoutly, "and I'm not a Dormouse."</p> + +<p>Both of the Andirons laughed heartily at this, and the Righthandiron, +dancing a little jig, sang over and over again this couplet:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He can't be very smart, I wis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he can't see that's what he is."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Get him a mirror," said the Lefthandiron. "We can't blame him for +thinking he is a boy, because everybody has told him he is a boy except +ourselves, and being a Sleepyhead he believes as a rule what he is told if +it is pleasant to believe."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't see why he objects to being a Dormouse," said the +Righthandiron. "I think Dormice are very handsome and just too sweet and +amiable to live. They are much pleasanter mice than Windowmice and +Stairmice—don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do," returned the Lefthandiron, "and Tom is about the finest +Dormouse I ever saw, and I wish he'd let us get acquainted with him."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said the other, "but if he doesn't it's his own loss. You and I +can go off to Santa Clausville by ourselves and have quite as good a time, +if not better, than if he were along with us. I've noticed one thing, my +dear Lefty, two's best anyhow.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Two people in an omnibus<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where there's but one settee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can both be seated with less fuss<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than if the twain were three.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If there is candy for but four,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This maxim still holds true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each one will get so much the more<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If there are only two.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Two boys upon a teeter board<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can have just twice the fun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That any seesaw can afford<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If there's another one.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"So I say, what if he doesn't come? You and I will enjoy ourselves just as +much. There'll be more candy for us, we won't have to divide the good time +we have up into more than two parts, and, what is more, neither of us will +have to carry the Dormouse."</p> + +<p>Here the two Andirons gave a sidelong glance at Tom, and saw that he was +smiling.</p> + +<p>"What are you laughing at?" asked the Righthandiron. "Eh, Dormouse?"</p> + +<p>"If I'll be a Dormouse will you take me off on your good time with you?" +asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, but we can't take anybody who denies that he is what he is or +who says that his name doesn't belong to him."</p> + +<p>"But I can't tell a story," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Nobody asked you to," returned the Righthandiron. "All we ask is that +you'll say nothing about it. If we say your name is Sleepyhead you needn't +try to make people think we don't know what we are talking about by saying +that your name isn't Sleepyhead, but Tommy Wideawake, or Billy Lemonstick, +or something else; and when we choose to state that you are a Dormouse we +want you to be a Dormouse and not go crying out through the street, 'I am +a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> huckleberry.' In the countries we visit people think we are the wisest +of the wise, and what we say no one ever dares dispute."</p> + +<p>"So, you see, my dear Dormouse," said the other, "we couldn't possibly +take you off with us unless you fall in with our plans and submit to our +calling you anything we please."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 218px;"> +<a href="images/img015.jpg"><img src="images/img015_th.jpg" width="218" height="323" alt=""A LITTLE TALE WHICH I WILL WAG FOR YOU."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"A LITTLE TALE WHICH I WILL WAG FOR YOU."</span> +</div> + +<p>"I don't see why you are not willing to admit that I am a boy, though," +insisted Tom, who, although he was extremely anxious to go off with the +Andirons, did not really like to lose sight of the fact that he was a boy. +"What good does it do you or me or anybody else for me to admit that I am +a Dormouse, for instance?"</p> + +<p>"A little tail which I will wag for you," said the Righthandiron, "will +explain how that is. Did you ever know a boy named Ebenezer J. Carrottop?"</p> + +<p>"No, I never heard of any person with such an absurd name as that," +returned Tom.</p> + +<p>"Well, you are very fortunate not to have been one of Ebenezer's +particular friends," said the Righthandiron. "If you had been, the story I +am going to tell you would have made you very unhappy. As it is, not +having known Ebenezer,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> and, having in fact taken a dislike to him because +of his name, the story will amuse you more than otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Good," said Tom; "I like to be amused."</p> + +<p>"That being the case," said the Andiron, "I will proceed at once to tell +you the story of Ebenezer."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>The Story of Ebenezer</big></p> + + +<p>"Ebenezer was a boy very much like yourself in several ways," resumed the +Righthandiron. "He wasn't one of the Sleepyhead or Dozy Pate families, but +he was next thing to it. He was nephew of Senator Takeanap, and a grandson +of old General Snoraloud—but he'd never admit it. He used to get just as +angry when we reminded him that he was quite as much of a Snoraloud as a +Carrottop, as you were when we called you Sleepyhead, and when my brother +Lefty here said to him, 'Hullo, Weasel,' he didn't like it a bit better +than you did when we said you were a Dormouse. He insisted that he was a +boy, and for all we could do we couldn't get him to admit that he was a +Weasel—"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He was the most persistent lad<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I have ever seen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd always say that bad was bad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That blue could not be green.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"We couldn't get him to deny<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That white was always white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though we'd try and try and try<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He'd say that he was right,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>interrupted the Lefthandiron.</p> + +<p>"And wasn't he?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"That isn't a part of the story," snapped the Righthandiron, "and if you +don't stop interrupting me I'll never speak to you again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to," said Tom apologetically.</p> + +<p>"That's just the worst part of it," snapped the Andiron. "You are an +interrupter by nature, and that is the most incurable kind. But, as I was +telling you, Ebenezer was bound to be a boy, and no amount of talk on our +part could convince him that he was a Weasel. Well, Lefty and I were very +young then, and up to the time of which I am speaking we had always made +our little trips in the Fairy Country or in Giantland all by ourselves, +and we had lots of fun together I can warrant. This time, however, we +decided to take Ebenezer with us to Giantland, which was a place he had +often heard us tell about, and concerning which he was very curious. We +told him that it would never do for him to visit Giantland, because the +Giants were always very hungry, and liked nothing better to eat than a boy +like himself. It would be dangerous for him to go, we said, unless he +would promise to obey us in everything we told him to do, and to admit +that he was whatever we chose to call him."</p> + +<p>"You see, my dear Tom," said the Lefthandiron in explanation, "the Giants +had such confidence in us that they accepted as true anything we said, so +that if we should happen to meet a hungry ogre and he should want to eat +Ebenezer because he was a boy, all that would be necessary for us to do to +save Ebenezer was to say, 'Hold on. He is not a boy. He is a Weasel.' Then +Ebenezer would be all right, because Giants do not eat Weasels."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Tom, nodding his head.</p> + +<p>"Ebenezer promised that he would obey us and wouldn't deny that he was a +Weasel if we told the Giants he was one, and we took him off with us," +resumed the Righthandiron. "We went straight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> to Giantland and had a +perfectly lovely time until about an hour before it was time to return, +when we encountered a huge Giant named Skihigh—and my, how hungry he was! +He was hungrier than Lefty's friend, who went into a restaurant and +ordered</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Thirty-seven pounds of cake,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sixty-four lamb chops,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eighteen portions of beefsteak,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Forty ginger pops;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seventeen vanilla puffs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twenty fresh-caught dabs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thirty-eight rich raisin duffs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ninety soft-shell crabs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Let those go for course the first;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let the second be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrimps and oysters till I burst,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thirteen quarts of tea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then a dozen sugared hams,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One small cabbage head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ninety dozen pinky clams,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sixty loaves of bread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Seven quarts of French canned pease,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a pound or two<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your Gorgonzola cheese<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For my lunch will do."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the waiter standing by<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the usual way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Asked him: 'Won't you also try<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our hot mince today?'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I don't want to interrupt," said Tom, "but it seems to me that man must +have been awful rich."</p> + +<p>"No, he wasn't," returned Lefty. "He was going to eat the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> dinner, you +know, and then die without paying for it. He wasn't a very good man."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;"> +<a href="images/img020.jpg"><img src="images/img020_th.jpg" width="410" height="477" alt=""AND THEN DIE WITHOUT PAYING FOR IT."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"AND THEN DIE WITHOUT PAYING FOR IT."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," remarked the story-teller. "But he was a very hungry man, in which +respect he was just like the Giant I am trying to tell you about. And my, +how the Giant roared with glee when he caught sight of Ebenezer.</p> + +<p>"'Good!' he cried, 'that's just what I wanted for my lunch. A nice fat +boy.'</p> + +<p>"Then he reached down," said the Righthandiron, "and grabbed Ebenezer by +the arm, and was about to eat him just as he would a piece of asparagus, +when Lefty here cried out:</p> + +<p>"'Avast there, Skihigh! That isn't a nice fat boy. That is only a +miserable Weasel.'</p> + +<p>"'Pah!' said Skihigh, with a face such as you put on when you take a +horrid tasting medicine. 'Pah! I can't eat Weasels.'</p> + +<p>"And with that he put Ebenezer down on the road again and was about to +walk along about his business when what did that foolish little Ebenezer +do but up and deny that he was a Weasel!</p> + +<p>"'I'm not a Weasel,' he yelled. 'And I am a boy—and a fine boy at that!'</p> + +<p>"Skihigh stopped short, whirled about and rushed back to where Ebenezer +was standing.</p> + +<p>"'What's that you say?' he said eagerly.</p> + +<p>"'I say I am not a Weasel, but a fine fat boy,' said the vainglorious +Ebenezer stoutly.</p> + +<p>"'Then my friends, the Andirons have deceived me, have they?' roared the +Giant.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' replied Ebenezer. 'But I can't stand being called a Weasel.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 384px;"> +<a href="images/img022.jpg"><img src="images/img022_th.jpg" width="384" height="534" alt=""JUST WHAT I WANTED FOR MY LUNCH."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"JUST WHAT I WANTED FOR MY LUNCH."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"With that," said the Righthandiron, "Skihigh clapped Ebenezer into his +market basket and then turned on Lefty and me. Lefty managed to get away, +but I was caught."</p> + +<p>"What did he do to you?" asked Tom, trembling with excitement.</p> + +<p>"He tried to bite my head off," said Righty, with a laugh. "See those two +dents on either side of my neck?"</p> + +<p>Tom looked, and sure enough there were the dents—not very deep, but quite +large enough to be seen.</p> + +<p>"His teeth broke when he got that far," said Righty. "I'm pretty hard—but +you see it needn't have happened at all if Ebenezer had only kept quiet +about his not being a Weasel."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 236px;"> +<a href="images/img023.jpg"><img src="images/img023_th.jpg" width="236" height="319" alt=""TRIED TO BITE MY HEAD OFF."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"TRIED TO BITE MY HEAD OFF."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Was he eaten by Skihigh?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied Righty. "Lefty and I didn't wait to find out, and +we have never been back there since. I don't believe he did eat him, for +two reasons. One is that after trying to bite my head off Skihigh hadn't +teeth enough left to eat anything with, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> the other reason is that I +saw Ebenezer two years afterwards on his way to school one beautiful +spring morning. I noticed him particularly because, although it was a +lovely clear morning, he had his umbrella up and positively declined to +put it down and carry it closed, because, he said, an umbrella couldn't +possibly be a cane, and he wasn't going to try to make anybody suppose it +was a cane."</p> + +<p>"I don't see anything in that story to make me unhappy, even if I were a +chum of Ebenezer's," said Tom, as the Andiron finished.</p> + +<p>"You don't? Don't you think it was sad that the Giant couldn't eat a boy +who'd behave in that way?" asked Righty, with a scornful glance at Tom.</p> + +<p>"It was very sad, Tom," said the Lefthandiron. "So don't deny +it—especially if you want to go off on our trip to the stars."</p> + +<p>"Are you really going to the stars?" gasped Tom, breathless at the very +idea and forgetting all about Ebenezer.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," returned the Andiron.</p> + +<p>"And may I go with you?" whispered Tom.</p> + +<p>"You may if you will do whatever we tell you, and admit that you are a +Dormouse," said Righty.</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll obey," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"And what did you say your name was?" asked Lefty.</p> + +<p>"Sleepyhead Dozy Pate Dormouse," said Tom, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"You'll do," returned the Righthandiron, stepping lightly out of the +fireplace. "Now sit astride of my back and take hold of Lefty's right +claw."</p> + +<p>Tom did as he was told, and in an instant he was flying up through space +toward the stars.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>Off in the Clouds</big></p> + + +<p>"Now the point to be decided," said the Lefthandiron, after he and his +companions had been flying through space for some time, "is where we are +going. There are two or three things we can do, and Tom can have his +choice as to which it shall be."</p> + +<p>"Subject, of course, to my advice," said the Righthandiron, with a bow to +Tom. "You can go where you please if I please. See?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tom. "I see. I can have my way as long as it is your way."</p> + +<p>"Precisely," said the Righthandiron, with an approving nod. "And as you +may have heard, precisely means exactly so. You can have your way as long +as it is my way, which shows how generous I am. Fond of my way as I am, I +am willing to divide it with you."</p> + +<p>"All right," returned Tom. "I'm very much obliged. What are the two things +we can do?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Lefthandiron, scratching his head softly, "we can fly up +a little higher and sit down and watch the world go round; we can take the +long jump, or we can visit Saturn."</p> + +<p>"What was the first?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"To fly up a little higher, where we can get a better view; to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> sit down +there and watch the world go round. It is an excellent way to travel. It's +awfully easy—in fact, it isn't you that travels at all. It's the world +that does the traveling, while all you've got to do is to sit down there +and keep an eye on it. It's like a big panorama, only it's real, and any +time you see a place going by that you think you'd like to see more of, +all you've got to do is to fly down there and see it."</p> + +<p>"When you get up higher and sit down," said Tom, "what do you sit on?"</p> + +<p>"You sit on me and I sit on my hind legs, of course," said Lefthandiron. +"Don't you know anything?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," said Tom, indignantly. "I know lots of things."</p> + +<p>"Then I can't see why you ask such silly questions," retorted the +Lefthandiron. "What do we sit on? Why, you might just as well ask a dog +what he barks with, or a lion what he eats his breakfast with—and that +would be as stupid as the Poker's poem on Sandwiches."</p> + +<p>"Did the Poker write a poem on Sandwiches?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Eight of 'em," returned the Lefthandiron. "The first of them went this +way:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He sat upon a lofty hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And smoked his penny pipe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Ha!' quoth a passing whip-poor-will,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'The oranges are ripe.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> +<p>"The other seven went like this," observed the Righthandiron:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The day was over, and the six-<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Teen little darkies then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Found they were in a dreadful fix,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like several other men."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"There isn't anything about Sandwiches in those poems," said Tom, with a +look of perplexity on his face.</p> + +<p>"No. That's where the stupidity of it comes in. He wrote those poems and +called 'em all Sandwiches just to be stupid, and it was stupid."</p> + +<p>"But what did he want to be stupid for?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Just his vanity, that's all," said the Righthandiron. "The Poker is a +very vain person. He thinks he is superior to everybody else in +everything. If you say to him, 'the gas fixture is bright tonight,' he'll +say, 'Oh, yes—but I'm brighter.' Somebody told him once that the kindling +wood that started the fires was stupid, and he wouldn't even stop his +bragging then. 'Oh, yes,' he said, 'but I'm a great deal stupider than the +kindling wood and I'll prove it.' So he sat down and wrote those verses +and called 'em all Sandwiches, and everybody agreed that he was the +stupidest person going."</p> + +<p>"You only told me two of 'em," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"No—the whole eight were there. To make it more stupid the Poker said +that the first one was number five and the second was the other seven."</p> + +<p>Tom smiled broadly at this and made up his mind to cultivate the +acquaintance of the Poker. He was boy enough to like stupidity of that +sort because it made him laugh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'd like to meet the Poker," he said. "He must be lots of fun."</p> + +<p>"He is," said the Lefthandiron. "Tenacre lots of fun. You'll meet him soon +enough because we shall join him shortly. We never go off on any of our +trips without him. He is a great help sometimes when we get into trouble +just because he has so many sides. If we fall into a pit through some +misstep the Poker comes along and pries us out of it. If we fall into the +hands of some horrible creature that wants to hurt us, the Poker talks to +that creature as stupid as he knows how, which makes the other so drowsy +that he can't possibly keep awake, and then, of course, we escape."</p> + +<p>"There he is now," cried the Righthandiron, putting his right forepaw up +to his ear and listening attentively. "I can hear him singing, can't you?"</p> + +<p>The Lefthandiron stopped short and Tom strained his ears to hear the +Poker's song. For a moment he could hear nothing, but then a slight +buzzing sound like the hum of a bee, came to his ears and in another +minute he could distinguish the words of the song. It was a song showing +that the singer was one of those favored beings who are satisfied with +what the world has given them—as you will see for yourself when you hear +it. These are the words as they came to Tom's ears, sung to a soft little +air which the Poker made up as he went along, thereby showing that he was +a musician as well as a Poker:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, I am a Poker bold and free,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I poke the livelong day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I love the land and I hate the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the sky and the clouds are there for me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">I dote on the Milky Way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds are as soft as a fleecy rug,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And as cool as cool can be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The skies fit into my figure snug,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they make me feel so blithe and smug<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I am glad Fate made me Me.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Oh Me!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ah Me!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Tis a lovely fate<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And a mission great<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To be<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Like me<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And to love the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the clouds to prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to hate the turbulent sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He—he—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So I lift my voice<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And I loud rejoice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the Fates have made me Me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Hullo!" cried the Righthandiron.</p> + +<p>"Halloa!" called the Lefthandiron.</p> + +<p>"That's not my name," came the voice of the Poker from behind a cloud just +above Tom's head. "But I know who you mean, so I answer Halloa yourself."</p> + +<p>"Where are you?" cried Lefty.</p> + +<p>"Here," called the Poker.</p> + +<p>"No, you're not," called Righty. "You're there. We are here."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's neither here nor there," retorted the Poker, poking his head +out through the cloud. "Hullo! Who have you got there? That isn't Tom, is +it?"</p> + +<p>"No—it's Sleepyhead D. Dormouse," laughed Lefty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good," said the Poker, advancing and shaking Tom by the hand. "I was +afraid it was Tom. Not that I dislike Tom, for I don't. I think he is one +of the nicest boys I know—but he weighs a good fifty-seven pounds, and so +far we haven't been able to get a cloud strong enough to support more than +fifty-six. If Tom were to come up here and sit on a cloud he'd fall +through, and if he fell through, you know what would happen."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," said Tom, to whom the Poker's remarks were addressed. "What +would happen?"</p> + +<p>"Well, in the first place, it would spoil the cloud, and in the second +place, if he tumbled into the sea he'd have to swim ashore," said the +Poker, sagely. "That's why I am glad you're young Mr. Dormouse, and not +Tom. Dormice can sit on the flimsiest clouds we have and not break +through."</p> + +<p>"What is a Dormouse anyhow?" asked Tom, to whom it now occurred for the +first time that he had never seen a Dormouse.</p> + +<p>"Ho!" jeered Righty, as Tom asked the question. "The idea of not knowing +what a Dormouse is!"</p> + +<p>"He's a mouse with a door to him, of course," said Lefty.</p> + +<p>"Which he keeps closed," said the Poker, "so that he will not be disturbed +while he is asleep."</p> + +<p>Tom tried to imagine what a creature of that sort looked like, but he +found it difficult. Not liking to appear stupid he accepted the +explanation.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he said. "It must be a very pretty animal."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said the Poker. "But he isn't as pretty as I can be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> when I +try. My, how pretty I can be—but say, Andies, where are we bound this +trip?"</p> + +<p>"We've left that to Sleepyhead to decide," said Lefty.</p> + +<p>"In the usual way of course?" queried the Poker.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! He can't decide except as we want him to and have it go as a +real decision. We've given him his choice of watching the world go round, +going to Saturn or taking the long jump."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;"> +<a href="images/img031.jpg"><img src="images/img031_th.jpg" width="398" height="394" alt=""A MOUSE WITH A DOOR TO HIM."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"A MOUSE WITH A DOOR TO HIM."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And which will it be, Dormy?" asked the Poker.</p> + +<p>"I sort of think I'd like to sit up here and watch the world go round," +said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Nope," said Righty.</p> + +<p>"Then let's go to Saturn," suggested Tom.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said Righty. "Not that."</p> + +<p>"Then there's only one thing left," said Tom, with a sigh, "and that's the +long jump—whatever that is."</p> + +<p>Tom's three companions roared with laughter.</p> + +<p>"Absurd!" cried Righty. "The idea. The long jump the only thing left! Ha, +ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"Perfect nonsense," laughed Lefty. "I never thought Dozy Pate could be so +dull."</p> + +<p>"Well, he isn't anything like as dull as I can be when I try," said the +Poker. "He's pretty dull, though."</p> + +<p>"I don't see where the joke comes in," snapped Tom, who did not at all +like the way the Andirons and the Poker were behaving. "If there are only +three things we can do and you won't do two of them there's only one +left."</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" roared Lefty.</p> + +<p>"Poor dull Dormouse," said Righty, with a smile that was half of mirth and +half sympathy.</p> + +<p>"You are evidently a Dormouse with very little education, Dormy," said the +Poker. "If there are three apples on a plate, one red, one green and one +white and you are told to take your pick of the lot there are four things +you can do, not three."</p> + +<p>"What are they?" asked Tom, meekly.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 371px;"> +<a href="images/img002.jpg"><img src="images/img002_th.jpg" width="371" height="521" alt=""There's no better place than this cloud."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"There's no better place than this cloud."</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p><p>"You can take a red one, a white one, a green one, or all three. See?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Tom, beginning to smile again. "I see. You don't want me +to choose watching the earth go round, or going to Saturn, or taking the +long jump, but you do want me to choose all three."</p> + +<p>"Now you are talking sense," said Righty. "And sense is what we are +after."</p> + +<p>"That's it," said the Poker. "Now what do you choose, Dormy?"</p> + +<p>"All three!" roared Tom.</p> + +<p>"The Dormouse is getting his eyes open," said Lefty.</p> + +<p>"Which is very proper," put in Righty, "for there is a great deal for him +to see."</p> + +<p>"Not so much as there is for me to see," said the Poker. "My, what a lot +there is for me to see!"</p> + +<p>"The first thing for us to do," said Lefty, paying no attention to the +Poker's words, "is to get a good place for us to sit, so that Sleepyhead +can see the world."</p> + +<p>"There's no better place than this cloud," said the Poker. "I've sat here +many a time and studied China by the hour."</p> + +<p>"It's a little too far away for Sleepyhead," said Lefty. "Dormy mustn't be +allowed to strain his eyes."</p> + +<p>"Never thought of that," said the Poker. "Of course, I can see a great +deal farther than he can. My, how far I can see! What's the matter with +our pushing the cloud in a little nearer?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing—if we can do it," said Righty. "But can we?"</p> + +<p>"We can 'wink our eye and try,' as the poet says," returned the Poker. +"Ever heard that poem, Dormy?"</p> + +<p>"No," returned Tom. "That is, not that I know of. I've heard lots of +poetry in my life, but it goes in one ear and out of the other."</p> + +<p>"You must have a queer head," said the Poker, peering into Tom's ear. "How +a poem poured into one ear can go out of the other I can't understand. +There doesn't seem to be any opening there."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 187px;"> +<a href="images/img034.jpg"><img src="images/img034_th.jpg" width="187" height="187" alt=""In one ear and out of the other."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"In one ear and out of the other."</span> +</div> + +<p>"His head isn't solid like ours," said Lefty. "It's too bad to be +afflicted the way he is. He ought to do the way a boy I knew once did. He +suffered just as Dormy does. You'd tell him a thing in his left ear and +the first thing you'd know, pop! it would all come out of the other ear +and be lost. The poor fellow was growing up to be an ignoramus. Couldn't +keep a thing in his head, until one night I overheard his father and +mother talking about it in the library. The boy's father wanted to punish +him for not remembering what he learned at school, when his mother said +just what Dormy here said, that everything went in one ear and out of the +other. Then they both looked sad, and the mother rubbed her eyes until +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> tears came. I couldn't stand that. If there's one thing in the world +I can't stand it's other people's sorrows. Mine don't amount to much, but +other people's do sometimes. I felt so bad for the poor parents that I +racked and racked my brains trying to think of some way to cure the boy. +It took me a week, but I got it at last and the next time the boy's +parents talked about it I took the matter in hand. I simply walked out of +the fireplace where I was and said, 'I hope you will excuse the +interference of an Andiron, ma'am, but I think your boy can be cured of +his ear trouble.' 'Noble fellow,' said the father, after he had got over +his surprise at my unusual behavior. 'What do you suggest?'</p> + +<p>"'Put a cork in his other ear,' said I.</p> + +<p>"And they did, and from that time on the boy never lost a bit of +information any one gave him. He grew up to be a dreadfully wise man and +when he finally died he was known as the human N. Cyclopedia."</p> + +<p>"That was a noble act of yours," said the Poker. "Did you have the idea +patented?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the Andiron. "I wanted to, but the patent rules require that a +working model should be sent with the request for a patent for the patent +office to keep, which of course I couldn't do."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't get a boy who would consent to spend his life in the showcase. +I could get all the corks I wanted, but no boy, and so I had to give it +up," replied Lefty, with a sigh. "I'd have been a rich Andiron today if I +could have had that idea patented. I shouldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> be surprised if I'd have +had enough to have Righty and the Poker and myself goldplated."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I wouldn't feel bad about that," said the Poker. "What's the +use? You're bright as any gold that ever shined and you are quite as +useful. Gold may be worth more than you are, but what of it? The people +who bought you are willing to change their gold for you, so that really +puts you ahead. As for myself I wouldn't be gold if I could. Gold Pokers +aren't worth anything as Pokers, and what's more, if I were gold Tom's +father would lock me up in the safe every night and then I couldn't travel +about the way I do."</p> + +<p>"Never thought of it in that light," said Lefty. "I'm glad I'm brass, +after all."</p> + +<p>"But you were going to tell us a poem, weren't you?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Poker. "It's a simple little verse, but there is a good +deal of fine advice in it. All it says is:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you're in doubt if you can do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thing some one has asked you to,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't sit you down and moan and cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because you can't, but wink your eye<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And try."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"There's good advice enough for a lifetime in that, Dormy," said the +Righthandiron. "And now let's see if we can move the cloud."</p> + +<p>The four little creatures set out at once to push the cloud nearer to the +earth so that Tom could see the latter going around more clearly, but +their efforts were in vain. The cloud wouldn't budge an inch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No use," said the Poker, panting with his exertion. "There is only one +thing to do now and that is to send for the Bellows. If he'll come and +blow in his usual style we'll have that cloud where we want it in less +than no time. I'd blow it there myself, for I am a far better blower than +the Bellows is—my, how I can blow! But I'm out of breath trying to push +the cloud."</p> + +<p>"I'll run back and get the Bellows," said Lefty.</p> + +<p>"And I'll go with you," said Righty. "He may not come for one, but I'm +sure he will for two."</p> + +<p>"All right," said the Poker. "Dormy and I will wait here for you; and I'll +tell him a story while you're gone. How will that suit you Dormy?"</p> + +<p>"First rate," said Tom. "I like stories."</p> + +<p>"We'll be back soon," said the Righthandiron, as he and the other started +back after the Bellows. "So make your story short."</p> + +<p>"Very good," returned the Poker amiably. "I'll make it so short that Dormy +will hardly know that it was ever begun."</p> + +<p>And so Tom was left sitting on a big cloud way up in the sky with the +Poker—which was indeed a very novel position for a small boy like him to +be in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>The Poker Tells His Story</big></p> + + +<p>"I suppose," said the Poker, after the Andirons had passed out of hearing +distance, "I suppose you think it a very extraordinary thing that I, who +am nothing but a Poker, should be satisfied with my lot. Eh?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Tom, snuggling down on the cloud which he found +to be deliciously soft and comfortable. "If you were a Poker who could +only poke it might seem queer. But you can talk and sing and travel about. +You don't have to do any work in summer time, and in winter you have a +nice warm spot to stay in all the day long. I don't think it's very +strange."</p> + +<p>"But I'm not different from any other Poker," said Tom's companion, "They +all do pretty much what I do except that most of them are always growling +at their hard lot, while I do very little but sing and rejoice that I am +what I am, and the story I was going to tell you was how I came to be so +well satisfied to be a Poker. Would you like to have me do that, Dormy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tom. "Very much. Were you always a Poker?"</p> + +<p>"Not I," said the Poker, with a shake of his head. "I've been a Poker only +two years. Before that I had been a little of everything. What do you +suppose I began life as?"</p> + +<p>"A railroad track," said Tom, bound to have a guess at the right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> answer, +though he really hadn't the slightest notion that he was correct.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<a href="images/img039.jpg"><img src="images/img039_th.jpg" width="393" height="430" alt=""A POKER WHO COULD ONLY POKE."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"A POKER WHO COULD ONLY POKE."</span> +</div> + +<p>"You came pretty near it," said the Poker, with a smile. "I began life as +a boy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't see how a boy is pretty near a railroad track," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"The boy I began life as lived right next door to a railroad," explained +the Poker. "See now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tom. "But why didn't you stay a boy?"</p> + +<p>"Because I wasn't contented," said the Poker, with a sigh. "I ought to +have been, though. I had everything in the world that a boy could want. My +parents were as good to me as they could possibly be. I had all the toys I +wanted. All I could eat—plenty of pudding and other good things as often +as they were to be had. I had two little sisters, who used to do +everything in the world for me. Plenty of boy friends to play with, and, +as I said before, a railroad right next door—and oh, the trains, and +trains, and trains I used to see! It was great fun. I can see, now that I +look back on it, and yet I never was satisfied. I used to cry my eyes out +sometimes because I hadn't wings like a bird, so that I could fly. At +other times I'd get discontented that I couldn't run as fast as a dog—I +never went to bed without feeling envious of somebody or something.</p> + +<p>"Finally one night I'd gone to bed feeling particularly unhappy because a +big eagle I had seen flying about in the sky could do things I couldn't. +My nurse, thinking I had fallen asleep, went out of the night nursery and +left me alone. Just as she went out of one door the other door opened and +a very beautiful lady came in.</p> + +<p>"'Is that you, mama?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'No,' said she. 'I am not your mother. I am a Fairy.'</p> + +<p>"I had been crying pretty hard, I can tell you," said the Poker, with a +shake of his head, "but as soon as I heard the lady say she was a Fairy my +tears dried up as quick as lightning.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 342px;"> +<a href="images/img003.jpg"><img src="images/img003_th.jpg" width="342" height="497" alt=""I am not your mother; I am a fairy."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"I am not your mother; I am a fairy."</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><p>"'I am a Fairy,' she repeated, coming to the side of my little bed and +stroking my forehead kindly. 'My duty is to seek out one discontented +person each year and see if I can't do something to help him. I have come +to help you if I can. Don't you like being a boy?'</p> + +<p>"'Not very much,' said I. 'It's awfully hard work. I have to go to school +every day and learn lots of things I don't care to know about, and most of +the time I'm kept in an hour or two just because I can't remember how much +seven times two are, or whether c-a-t spells dog or horse, and I don't +like it.'</p> + +<p>"'But you are strong and well. Your father and mother are very good to you +and you have more good times than unhappy ones, don't you?'</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 238px;"> +<a href="images/img041.jpg"><img src="images/img041_th.jpg" width="238" height="241" alt=""DOESN'T HAVE TO LIVE IN A BATHTUB."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"DOESN'T HAVE TO LIVE IN A BATHTUB."</span> +</div> + +<p>"'I never counted,' said I. 'I don't believe I do, though. I'm strong and +well, but so is that eagle I saw today, and he can fly, and I can't. Then +there's my little dog—he's as well as can be, and my father and mother +are kind to him just as they are kind to me. He doesn't have to bother +with school. He's allowed to go anywhere he wants to, and never gets +scolded for it. Besides, he doesn't have to be dressed up all the time and +live in a bathtub the way I do.'</p> + +<p>"'Then you think you would be happier as Rollo than you are as yourself?' +said she.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Very much,' said I.</p> + +<p>"'Then it shall be so,' said she. 'Good-by!'</p> + +<p>"She went out as quietly as she had come, and I turned over and after +thinking over what she had said I fell asleep. Then the queerest thing +happened. I slept right through until the morning, dreaming the strangest +dream you ever heard of. I dreamed that I had been changed into Rollo—and +oh, the fun I had! Life was nothing but play and liberty, and then I +waked. I tried to call my father and tell him I was ready for the morning +story, but what do you suppose I did instead?"</p> + +<p>"Give it up," said Tom. "What?"</p> + +<p>"I barked," said the Poker, "and when I barked I looked down at my feet. +Sure enough I was Rollo, and Rollo was I lying asleep in my bed. I was on +the floor at the foot of the bed. Then the nurse came in and slapped me +for barking and I had the pleasure of being sent down stairs to the +cellar, while Rollo himself, who had been changed into me went into my +father's room and got the story."</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" said Tom. "I guess you were sorry about that."</p> + +<p>"I was, a little," said the Poker. "But after I had been down in the +cellar an hour or two I saw a beautiful piece of steak in the ice-box and +I ate it all up. It wasn't cooked at all, but being a little dog I liked +it all the better for that. Then I drank up a panful of milk and had a +lovely time teasing the cat, until the cook came down, when my troubles +began. I never knew when I was a boy that Rollo had troubles, but I found +out that day that he had. The cook gave me a terrible whipping because I +had eaten the steak, and I had hardly recovered from that when Rollo, who +was now what I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> been, took me up into the nursery and played with me +just as I had always played with him. He held me up by the tail; he +flicked me with his handkerchief; he harnessed me up to a small cart and +made me drag his sisters' doll babies about the room for one whole hour, +and then when lunch time came the waitress forgot me and I had to go +hungry all the afternoon. Every time I'd try to go into the kitchen the +cook would drive me out with a stick for fear I would eat the other things +in the cellar—and oh, dear, I had a miserable time of it.</p> + +<p>"The worst of it came two or three days later," continued the Poker. "It +was Rollo's bath day, and as I was Rollo of course I had to take Rollo's +bath, and my, wasn't it awful! I'd rather take a hundred such baths as I +had when I was a boy than one like Rollo's. The soap got into my eyes and +I couldn't say a word. Then it got into my mouth, and bah! how fearful it +was. After that I was grabbed by all four of my legs and soused into the +water until I thought I should drown, and rubbed until my fur nearly came +off.</p> + +<p>"I wished then that I had asked the Fairy to leave her address so that I +could send for her and have her come back and let me be a boy again. All +the fun of being Rollo was spoiled by the woes that were his to bear—woes +I had never dreamed of his having until I took his place.</p> + +<p>"I must have been Rollo a month when the Fairy came back one night to see +how I was getting along. Rollo lay asleep in my crib, while I was curled +up in a dog basket at the foot of it.</p> + +<p>"'Well,' said the Fairy as she entered the room, 'how do you both do?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'I like it first-rate,' said Rollo. 'Being a boy is ever so much nicer +than being a dog.'</p> + +<p>"'I think so, too," said I. 'And if you don't mind I'd like to be a boy +again.'</p> + +<p>"'What boy do you want to be?' she asked.</p> + +<p>"'What boy?' said I. 'Why, myself, of course. Who else?'</p> + +<p>"'What has Rollo to say about that?' said the Fairy, turning to him—and I +tell you, Dormy, it made my heart sick to hear that Rollo had anything to +say about it, for there couldn't be much doubt as to how he would +decide."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>The Poker Concludes His Story</big></p> + + +<p>"It was just as I feared," said the Poker. "Rollo knew a good thing when +he had it."</p> + +<p>"'I'm satisfied, the way things are now,' said he. 'I wouldn't change back +and be a Scotch terrier for all the world.'</p> + +<p>"Then the Fairy turned to me and said, 'I'm sorry, my dear, but if Rollo +won't consent to the change you'll have to be contented to remain as you +are—unless you'd like to try being an eagle for a while.'</p> + +<p>"'I'll never consent,' said Rollo, selfishly, though I couldn't really +blame him for it.</p> + +<p>"'Then make me an eagle,' I said. 'Make me anything but what I am.'</p> + +<p>"'Very well,' said the Fairy. 'Good-night.'</p> + +<p>"Next morning," continued the Poker, "when I waked up I was cold and +stiff, and when I opened my eyes to look about me I found myself seated on +a great ledge of rock on the side of a mountain. Far below me were tops of +the trees in a forest I never remembered to have seen before, while above +me a hard black wall of rock rose straight up for a thousand feet. To +climb upward was impossible; to climb down, equally so.</p> + +<p>"'What on earth does this mean?' thought I; and then, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> attempting to +walk, I found that I had but two legs, where the night before I had fallen +asleep with four.</p> + +<p>"'Am I a boy again?' I cried with delight.</p> + +<p>"'No,' said a voice from way below me in the trees. 'You are now an eagle +and I hope you will be happy.'</p> + +<p>"You never were an eagle, were you, Dormy?" said the Poker, gazing +earnestly into Tom's face.</p> + +<p>"No," said Tom, "never. I've never been any kind of bird."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 197px;"> +<a href="images/img046.jpg"><img src="images/img046_th.jpg" width="197" height="328" alt=""EAGLES NEVER HAVE UMBRELLAS."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"EAGLES NEVER HAVE UMBRELLAS."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Well, don't you ever be one," said the Poker, with a knowing shake of the +head. "It's all very beautiful to think about, but being an eagle is +entirely different from what thinking about it is. I was that eagle for +one whole month, and the life of a Scotch terrier is bliss alongside of +it. In the first place it was fight, fight, fight for food. It was lots of +fun at first jumping off the crag down a thousand feet into the valley, +but flying back there to get out of the way of the huntsmen was worse than +pulling a sled with rusty runners up a hill a mile long. Then, when storms +came up I had to sit up there on that mountain side and take 'em all as +they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> came. I hadn't any umbrella—eagles never have—to keep off the +rain; and no walls except on one side, to keep off the wind, and no +shutters to close up so that I couldn't see the lightning. It was +terrible. All I got to eat in the whole month was a small goat and a +chicken hawk, and those I had to swallow wool, feathers and all. Then I +got into fights with other eagles, and finally while I was looking for +lunch in the forest I fell into a trap and was caught by some men who put +me in a cage so that people could come to see me."</p> + +<p>"Ever been shut up in a cage?" queried the Poker at this point.</p> + +<p>"No," said Tom, "only in a dark closet."</p> + +<p>"Never had to stay shut up, though, more than ten minutes, did you?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Tom, "never."</p> + +<p>"Well, think of me cooped up in an old cage for two weeks!" said the +Poker. "That was woe enough for a lifetime, but it wasn't half what I had +altogether. The other creatures in the Zoo growled and shrieked all night +long; none of us ever got a quarter enough to eat, and several times the +monkey in the cage next to me would reach his long arm into my prison and +yank out half a dozen of my feathers at once. In fact, I had nothing but +mishaps all the time. As the poet says:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Talk about your troubles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Talk about your woes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yours are only bubbles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir, compared with those.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"At the end of two weeks I was nearly frantic. I don't think I could have +stood it another week—but fortunately at the end of the month back came +the Fairy again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'How do you like being an eagle?' she said.</p> + +<p>"'I'd rather be a tree rooted to the ground in the midst of a dense forest +than all the eagles in the world,' said I.</p> + +<p>"'Very well,' said she. 'It shall be so. Good-night.'</p> + +<p>"In the morning I was a tree—and if there is anything worse than being a +dog or an eagle it's being a tree," said the Poker. "I could hear +processions going by with fine bands of music in the distance, but I +couldn't stir a step to see them. Boys would come along and climb up into +my branches and shake me nearly to pieces. Cows came and chewed up my +leaves, and one day the wood-cutters came and were just about to cut me +down when the Fairy appeared again and sent them away.</p> + +<p>"'They will be back again tomorrow,' she said. 'Do you wish to remain a +tree?'</p> + +<p>"'No, no, no,' I cried. 'I'll be content to be anything you choose if you +will save me from them.'</p> + +<p>"'There,' she said. 'That's the point. If you will keep that promise you +will finally be happy. If you will only look on the bright side of things, +remembering the pleasant and forgetting the unpleasant, you will be happy. +If you will be satisfied with what you are and have and not go about +swelling up with envy whenever you see anyone or anything that has or can +do things that you have not or cannot do, you will be happy in spite of +yourself. Will you promise me this?'</p> + +<p>"'Indeed I will,' I said.</p> + +<p>"'Even if I change you into so poor a thing as a Poker?'</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said I.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 378px;"> +<a href="images/img049.jpg"><img src="images/img049_th.jpg" width="378" height="546" alt=""ONE DAY THE WOODCUTTERS CAME."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"ONE DAY THE WOODCUTTERS CAME."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Very well,' said she. 'It shall be so. Good-night.'</p> + +<p>"Next morning I waked up to find myself as you see—nothing more than a +Poker, but contented to be one. I have kept my promise with the Fairy, and +I am simply the happiest thing in the world. I don't sit down and groan +because I have to poke the fire. On the contrary, when I am doing that I'm +always thinking how nice it will be when I get done and I lean up against +the rack and gaze on all the beautiful things in the room. I always think +about the pleasant things, and if you don't know it, Dormy, let me tell +you that that's the way to be happy and to make others happy. Sometimes +people think me vain. The Fender told me one night I was the vainest +creature he ever knew. I'm not really so. I only will not admit that there +is anything or anybody in the world who is more favored than I am. That is +all. If I didn't do that I might sometime grow a little envious in spite +of myself. As it is I never do and haven't had an unhappy hour since I +became a contented Poker."</p> + +<p>Tom was silent for a few minutes after the Poker had completed his story, +and then he said:</p> + +<p>"Don't you sometimes feel unhappy because you are not the boy you used to +be?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the Poker. "I am not because Rollo makes a better boy than I +was. He is a contented boy and I was not."</p> + +<p>"But don't you miss your father and mother?" queried Tom.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 301px;"> +<a href="images/img051.jpg"><img src="images/img051_th.jpg" width="301" height="379" alt=""SO I REALLY LIVE HOME."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"SO I REALLY LIVE HOME."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Of course not," said the Poker, "because the Fairy was good enough to +have me made into the Poker used in their new house. My parents moved away +from the railroad just after Rollo became me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> and built themselves a new +house, and of course they had to have a new Poker to go with it—so I +really live home, you see, with them."</p> + +<p>A curious light came into Tom's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Poker," said he. "Who was this boy you used to be?"</p> + +<p>"Tom," said the Poker.</p> + +<p>"I'm not Rollo," roared Tom, starting up.</p> + +<p>"Nobody said you were," retorted the Poker. "You are Dormy. Tom is +Rollo—but, I say, here come the Andirons and the Bellows."</p> + +<p>Tom looked down from the cloud, and sure enough the three were coming up +as fast as the wind, and in the excitement of the moment the little +traveler forgot all about the Poker's story, in which he seemed himself to +have figured without knowing it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>The Literary Bellows</big></p> + + +<p>"What kept you so long?" asked the Poker, as the Andiron and Bellows came +up. "Was our friend Bellows out of breath, or what?"</p> + +<p>"No, I wasn't out of breath," said the Bellows. "I never am out of breath. +You might as well expect a groceryman to be out of groceries as a bellows +to be out of breath. I wasn't long, either—at least, no longer than +usual, which is two foot three. A longer bellows than that would be +useless for our purpose. I simply didn't want to come, that's all. I was +very busy writing when they interrupted me."</p> + +<p>"It was very kind of you to come when you didn't want to," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"No, it wasn't," said the Bellows. "I didn't want to come then, I don't +want to be here now, and I wouldn't blow the cloud an inch for you if I +didn't have to."</p> + +<p>"But why do you have to?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"I'm outvoted, that's all," replied the Bellows. "You see, my dear +Weasel"—</p> + +<p>"Dormouse," whispered the Poker.</p> + +<p>"I mean Dormouse," said the Bellows, correcting himself. "You see, I +believe in everybody having a say in regard to everything. I always have +everything I can put to a vote. Consequently,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> when Righty here came down +and asked me to help blow the cloud over and I said that I wouldn't do it +he called Lefty in, and we put it to a vote as to whether I'd have to or +not. They voted that I must and I voted that I needn't, and, of course, +that beat me; so here I am."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's very good of you, just the same," said the Poker. "You aren't +quite as good-natured as I am, but you come pretty near it. Most people +would have left a matter of that kind entirely to themselves and then +voted the way they felt like voting. You aren't selfish, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am," said the Bellows. "I'm awfully selfish."</p> + +<p>"You're not, either," said the Poker.</p> + +<p>"Oh, goodness!" ejaculated the Bellows. "What's the use of fighting? I say +I am."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 179px;"> +<a href="images/img053.jpg"><img src="images/img053_th.jpg" width="179" height="213" alt=""WHAT'S THE USE OF FIGHTING?"" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"WHAT'S THE USE OF FIGHTING?"</span> +</div> + +<p>"Let's have a vote on it," said Righty. "I vote he isn't."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Me, too," said Lefty.</p> + +<p>"Those are my sentiments likewise," put in the Poker.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, then, I'm not," said the Bellows, with a deep drawn sigh; +"but I do wish you'd let me have my own way about some things. I want to +be selfish, even if I'm not."</p> + +<p>"Well, we are very sorry," said the Poker, "but we can't let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> you be; we +need you too much to permit you to be selfish. Besides, you're too good a +fellow to be selfish. I knew a boy who was selfish once, and he got into +all sorts of trouble. Nobody liked him, and once when he gave a big dinner +to a lot of other boys not one of them would come, and he had to eat all +the dinner himself. The result was that he overate himself, ruined his +digestion, and all the rest of his life had to do without pies and cake +and other good things. It served him right, too. Do you think we are going +to let you be like that, Mr. Bellows?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not," said the Bellows, "but stories about selfish boys don't +frighten me. I'm a bellows, not a boy. I don't give dinners and I don't +eat pie and cake. Plain air is good enough for me, and I wouldn't give a +cent for all the other good eatables in the world except doughnuts. I like +doughnuts because, after all, they are only bellows cakes. But come, let's +hurry up with the cloud. I want to get back to my desk. I have a poem to +finish before breakfast."</p> + +<p>This statement interested Tom hugely. He had read many a book, but never +before had he met a real author, and even if the Bellows had been a man, +so long as he was a writer, Tom would have looked upon him with awe.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," he said hesitatingly, as the Bellows began to wheeze away at +the cloud, "do you really write?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;"> +<a href="images/img004.jpg"><img src="images/img004_th.jpg" width="374" height="517" alt=""I blow a story or two, now and then."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"I blow a story or two, now and then."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Well, no," said the Bellows. "No, I don't write, but I blow a story or +two now and then. You see, I can't write because I haven't any hands, but +I can wheeze out a tale to a stenographer once in a while which any +magazine would be glad to publish if it could get hold of it. One of my +stories called Sparks blew into a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> powder magazine once and it made a +tremendous noise in the world when it came out."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would tell me one," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Are you a stenographer?" asked the Bellows.</p> + +<p>"No," said Tom, "but I like stories just the same."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Bellows, "I'll tell you one about Jimmie Tompkins and the +red apple."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" cried Tom. "I love red apples."</p> + +<p>"So did Jimmie Tompkins," said the Bellows, "and that's why he died. He +ate a red apple while it was green and it killed him."</p> + +<p>There was a pause for an instant, and the Bellows redoubled his efforts to +move the cloud, which for some reason or other did not stir easily.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Tom, when he thought he had waited long enough for the +Bellows to resume.</p> + +<p>"What on?" asked the Bellows.</p> + +<p>"On your story about Jimmie Tompkins and the red apple," Tom answered.</p> + +<p>"Why, I've told you that story," retorted the Bellows. "Jimmie ate the red +apple and died. What more do you want? That's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>"It isn't a very long story," suggested Tom, ruefully, for he was much +disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Well, why should it be?" demanded the Bellows. "A story doesn't have to +be long to be good, and as long as it is all there—"</p> + +<p>"I know," said Tom; "but in most stories there's a lot of things put in +that help to make it interesting."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All padding!" sneered the Bellows, "and that I will never do. If a story +can be told in five words what's the use of padding it out to five +thousand?"</p> + +<p>"None," said Tom, "except that you can't make a book out of a story of +five words."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you can," said the Bellows, airily. "It isn't any trouble at all +if you only know how, and in the end you have a much more useful book than +if you made it a million words long. You can print the five words on the +first page and leave the other five hundred pages blank, so that after you +get through with the volume as a story book you can use it for a blank +book or a diary. Most books nowadays are so full of story that when you +get through with them there isn't anything else you can do with the book."</p> + +<p>"It's a new idea," said Tom, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"And all my own invention, too," said the Bellows proudly.</p> + +<p>"He's the most inventive Bellows that ever was," put in the Poker, "that +is, in a literary way. How many copies of your book of 'Unwritten Poems' +did you sell, Wheezy?" he added.</p> + +<p>"Eight million," returned the Bellows. "That was probably my greatest +literary achievement."</p> + +<p>"'Unwritten Poems,' eh?" said Tom, to whom the title seemed curious.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Bellows. "The book had three hundred pages, all nicely +bound—twenty-six lines to a page—and each beginning with a capital +letter, just as poetry should. Then, so as to be quite fair to all the +letters, I began with A and went right straight through the alphabet to +Z."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But the poems?" demanded Tom.</p> + +<p>"They were unwritten just as the title said," returned the Bellows. "You +see that left everything to the imagination, which is a great thing in +poetry."</p> + +<p>"Didn't people complain?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"Everybody did," replied the Bellows, "but that was just what I wanted. I +agreed to answer every complaint accompanied by ten cents in postage +stamps. Eight million complaints alone brought me in $480,000 over and +above all expenses, which were four cents per complaint."</p> + +<p>"But what was your answer?" demanded Tom.</p> + +<p>"I merely told them that my book stood upon its own merits, and that if +they didn't like my unwritten poems they could write some of their own on +the blank pages of the book. It was a perfectly fair proposition," the +Bellows replied.</p> + +<p>"I think I like written poetry best, though," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"That's entirely a matter of taste," said the Bellows, "and I shan't find +fault with you for that. The only thing is that Unwritten Poems are apt to +have fewer faults than the written ones, and every great poet will tell +you that nobody ever detected any mistakes in his poems until he had put +them down on paper. If he had left them unwritten nobody would ever have +known how bad they were."</p> + +<p>Tom scratched his head in a puzzled mood. He could not quite grasp the +Bellows' meaning.</p> + +<p>"What do you think about it, Righty?" he demanded of the Andiron.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't think anything about it," replied Righty. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> haven't watched +poetry much. You see, Lefty and I don't see much of it. People light fires +nowadays more with newspapers than with poetry."</p> + +<p>"What I've seen burns well," observed the Lefthandiron, "and don't make +much ashes to get into your eyes; but, say, Wheezy, if you'll do your +blowing about this cloud rather than about your poetry we may get +somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the Bellows; "fasten your hats on tight and turn up your +collars. I'm going to give you a regular tornado."</p> + +<p>And he was as good as his word, for, expanding himself to the utmost +limit, he gave a tremendous wheeze, which nearly blew Tom from his perch, +sent his cap flying off into space and smashed the cloud into four +separate pieces, one of which, bearing the Poker, floated rapidly off to +the north, while the other three sped south, east and west, respectively.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 218px;"> +<a href="images/img058.jpg"><img src="images/img058_th.jpg" width="218" height="302" alt=""HE GAVE A TREMENDOUS WHEEZE."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"HE GAVE A TREMENDOUS WHEEZE."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Hi, there," cried Righty, as he perceived the damage done to their fleecy +chariot. "What are you up to? We don't want to be blown to the four +corners of the earth. Pull in—pull in, for goodness sake, or we'll never +get together again!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's no satisfying you fellows," growled the Bellows. "First I don't +blow enough, and then I blow too much."</p> + +<p>"Stop growling and haul us back again!" cried the Poker.</p> + +<p>The Bellows began to haul in his breath rapidly, and by a process of +suction soon had the four parts of the burst cloud back together once +more.</p> + +<p>"By jingo!" panted Lefty. "That was a narrow escape. Two seconds more and +this party would have been a goner. Even as it is, you've twisted my neck +so I'll never get it back in shape again," said the Righthandiron.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry," said the Bellows, "but it's all your own fault. You +asked me to blow the cloud, and I blew it. You didn't say where you wanted +it blown."</p> + +<p>"You needn't have blown it to smithereens, just the same!" retorted the +Poker. "It doesn't cost anything to ask a question now and then."</p> + +<p>"Where, then?" demanded the Bellows.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to find my hat," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the Bellows. "I see it speeding off toward the moon, and +we'll chase after it, but we'll never catch it if it misses the moon and +falls past it into space."</p> + +<p>The Poker rose to his full height and peered after the cap, which, even as +the Bellows had said, was sailing rapidly off in the direction of the +crescent moon, which lay to the west and below them.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" he cried. "It's all right."</p> + +<p>"Can you see it still?" asked Tom, anxiously, for his cap was made of +sealskin and he didn't wish to lose it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, it's all right," said the Poker. "It nearly missed, but not quite. +If you will look through these glasses you will see it."</p> + +<p>The Poker handed Tom a pair of strong field glasses and the lad, gazing +anxiously through them, was delighted to see his wandering cap hanging, as +if on a great golden hook in the sky beneath them, and which was nothing +more than the last appearance of the moon itself.</p> + +<p>"Good!" cried the Righthandiron. "That settles the question for us of +where we shall go next. There is no choice left. We'll go to the moon. +Heave ahead, Wheezy."</p> + +<p>Whereupon the Bellows began to blow, at first gently, then stronger and +stronger, and yet more strongly still, until the cloud was moving rapidly +in the direction they desired.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>They Reach the Crescent Moon</big></p> + + +<p>As the jolly party sped along through the heavens Tom began to find his +eyes bothering him a trifle. Brilliant as many of the sunshiny days had +been at home, particularly when the snow was on the ground, nothing so +dazzlingly bright as this great golden arc in the sky was getting to be, +as they approached closer, had ever greeted his sight.</p> + +<p>"It's blinding!" he cried, his eyes blinking and filling with water as he +gazed upon the scene. "I can't stand it. What shall I do, Lefty?"</p> + +<p>"Turn your head around and approach it backward," said Lefty. "Then you +won't see it."</p> + +<p>"But I want to see it," retorted Tom. "What's the use of visiting the moon +if you can't see it?"</p> + +<p>"Reminds me of a poem I wrote once," put in the Poker. "'What's the Use?' +was one of my masterpieces, and maybe if I recite it to you it will help +your eyes."</p> + +<p>"Bosh!" growled the Bellows, who was beginning to get a little +short-winded with his labors, and, therefore, a trifle out of temper. "How +on earth will reciting your poem help Tom's eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Easy enough," returned the Poker haughtily and with a contemptuous glance +at the Bellows. "My poem is so much brighter than the moon that the moon +will seem dull alongside of it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go ahead anyhow," said Tom, interested at once and forgetting his eyes +for the moment. "Give us the poem."</p> + +<p>"Here goes, then," said the Poker, with a low bow and then, standing +erect, he began. "It's called</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">WHAT'S THE USE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of circuses that haven't any beasts?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the use of restaurants that haven't any feasts?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of oranges that haven't any peels?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the use of bicycles that haven't any wheels?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of railway trains that have no place to go?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the use of going to war if you haven't any foe?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of splendid views for those that cannot see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the use of freedom's flag to folks that aren't free?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of legs to those who have no wish to walk?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the use of languages to those who cannot talk?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of kings and queens that haven't any throne?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the use of having pains unless you're going to groan?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of anything, however grand and good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That doesn't ever, ever work the way it really should?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Humph!" panted the Bellows, "you don't call that bright, do you?"</p> + +<p>"I do, indeed," said the Poker. "And I call it bright because I know it's +bright. It is so bright that not a magazine in all the world dare print +it, because they'd never be able to do as well again, and people would say +the magazine wasn't as good as it used to be."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense," retorted the Bellows. "Why, I could blow a mile of poetry +like that in ten minutes:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of churches big that haven't any steeples?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the use of nations great that haven't any peoples?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use of oceans grand that haven't any beaches?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the use of Delawares that haven't any peaches?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What's the use—"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"O, shut up Wheezy," interrupted the Poker angrily. "Of course you can go +on like that forever, once somebody gives you the idea, but to have the +idea in the beginning was the big thing. Columbus was a great man for +coming to America, but every foreigner who has come over since isn't, not +by a long shot. As I say in my celebrated rhyme on "Greatness":</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The greatest man in all the world, by far the greatest one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is he who goes ahead and does what no one else has done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he must be the first if he would rank as some "potaters,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For those who follow after him are merely imitators.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 183px;"> +<a href="images/img063.jpg"><img src="images/img063_th.jpg" width="183" height="318" alt=""COLUMBUS WAS A GREAT MAN."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"COLUMBUS WAS A GREAT MAN."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Bellows. "You are a great chap, Pokey—you, with +your poetry. I hope Tom isn't going to be affected by the lessons you +teach. The idea of saying that a man is the greatest man in the world +because he does what no one else has done! I guess nobody's never eaten +bricks up to now. Do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> mean to say that if Tom here ate a brick he'd be +the greatest man in the world?"</p> + +<p>"No; he'd be a cannibal," put in the Righthandiron, desirous of stopping +the quarrel between the rivals.</p> + +<p>"How do you make that out?" demanded the Bellows.</p> + +<p>"Because Tom is a brick himself," explained the Righthandiron; and just +then slap! bang! the party plunged head first into what appeared to +be—and in fact really was—a huge snowbank.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah! Here we are!" cried Lefty, gleefully.</p> + +<p>"Wh-where are we?" Tom sputtered, blowing the snow out of his mouth and +shaking it from his coat and hair and ears.</p> + +<p>"Hi, there! Look out!" roared Righty, grabbing Tom by the coat sleeve and +yanking him off to one side. A terrible swishing sound fell upon the lad's +ears, and as he gazed doggedly about him to see what had caused it he saw +a great golden toboggan whizzing down into the valley, and then slipping +up the hill on the other side.</p> + +<p>"You had a narrow escape that time," said Righty, as they excitedly +watched the toboggan speeding on its way, and which, by the way, was +filled with a lot of little youngsters no bigger than Tom himself, +children of all colors, apparently, red, white and blue, green, yellow and +black. "If I hadn't yanked you away you'd have been run over."</p> + +<p>"But where are we?" Tom asked, bewildered by the experience.</p> + +<p>"We're on the Crescent Moon at last," said Lefty. "It's the boss toboggan +slide of the universe."</p> + +<p>"A toboggan slide?" cried Tom.</p> + +<p>"The very same," said the Poker. "Didn't you know that this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> dazzling +whiteness of the Crescent Moon is merely the reflection of the sun's light +on the purest of pure white snow? It's too high up for dust and dirt here, +you see, and so the snow is always clean, and so, equally of course, is +dazzling white."</p> + +<p>"But the tobogganing?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"It's like swinging and letting the old cat die," explained the +Righthandiron. "You see, it's this shape," and he marked the crescent form +of the moon on the snow and lettered the various points.</p> + +<p>"Now," he continued, "you start your toboggan at A and whizz down to C. +When you get there you have gathered speed enough to take you up the hill +to B. Then of its own weight the toboggan slides back to D, from which it +again moves forward to E, and so it keeps on sliding back and forth until +finally it comes to a dead stop at C. Isn't that a fine arrangement?"</p> + +<p>"Magnificent," said Tom. "And do they call it tobogganing here?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Righty, "it's called oscillating, and the machine is known as +the oscycle"—</p> + +<p>"Don't confound it with the icicle," put in the Bellows.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know what an icicle is," said Tom. "It's a spear of ice that hangs +from a piazza roof."</p> + +<p>"That's what it is at home," said the Poker, "but not here, my lad. Here +an icicle is a bicycle with runners instead of wheels."</p> + +<p>"But what makes it go?" demanded Tom.</p> + +<p>"Pedals, of course," returned the Poker. "You just tread away on the +pedals, as if you were riding on a bicycle, and the chain sets a dozen ice +picks revolving that shove you over the ice like the wind. Oh, it's great +sport!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;"> +<a href="images/img066.jpg"><img src="images/img066_th.jpg" width="374" height="530" alt=""YOU SEE, IT'S THIS SHAPE."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"YOU SEE, IT'S THIS SHAPE."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>Another rush and roar of a passing toboggan caused them to pause in their +conversation for a moment, and then Tom turned his attention to the +diagram Righty had drawn on the snow.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you didn't stop at B and go back—what would happen?" he asked as +he considered the possible dangers of this wonderful new sport.</p> + +<p>"You'd fall over the edge, of course," said the Poker.</p> + +<p>"I see that," said Tom. "But if you fell over the edge what would become +of you? Where would you land?"</p> + +<p>"If you had luck you wouldn't land anywhere," said Righty. "The chances +are, however, you'd fall back on the earth again. Maybe in Canada, +possibly in China, perhaps in Egypt. It would all depend on the time of +night."</p> + +<p>"And wouldn't you be killed?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"Not if you had your rubbers on," said Righty. "If you had your rubbers on +it would only jar you slightly. You'd just hit the earth and then bounce +back again, but there's no use of talking about that, because it never +happened but once. It happened to a chap named Blenkinson, who took an +Oscillator that hadn't any brake on it. He was one of those smart fellows +that want to show how clever they are. He whizzed down one side and up the +other, and pouf! First thing he knew he was flying off into space."</p> + +<p>"And what became of him?" demanded Tom.</p> + +<p>"He had the luck not to hit anything, but he suffered just the same," said +Righty. "He flew on until he got to a point where he was held fast up in +the air by the force of gravity of 1,600 different planets, and he's there +yet. At a distance he looks like another new star, but when you get close +to him he's nothing more than just a plain, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>everyday Smarty."</p> + +<p>"I should think he'd starve to death," said Tom, as he reflected on the +horrid fate of Blenkinson.</p> + +<p>"He would if he had any appetite," said the Bellows. "But he hasn't. He's +so worried all the time that he can't eat, so he gets along very well +without food."</p> + +<p>"Let's quit talking now," suggested the Poker, "and get a ride, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I'm ready," said Tom eagerly. "Where do we start?"</p> + +<p>"There's the station up on the hill. It's only about 700 miles. We can +walk it in a year," said Righty.</p> + +<p>"I move we take this cloud that's coming up," said the Bellows. "I'm +winded."</p> + +<p>Tom looked in the direction in which the Bellows had pointed, and, sure +enough, there was a cloud coming slowly along, shaped very much like a +trolley car, and on the front of it, as it drew nearer, the lad was soon +able to discern the funny little figure of a Brownie acting as motorman.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's really a trolley!" he cried.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 525px;"> +<a href="images/img005.jpg"><img src="images/img005_th.jpg" width="525" height="351" alt=""Why it's really a trolley!"" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"Why it's really a trolley!"</span> +</div> + +<p>"Certainly it is!" laughed Righty. "Didn't you know that? When you have +watched the moon from your window at home and seen constant lines of +clouds passing up to it and stopping before its face night after night +what did you suppose they did it for? Fun? I guess not. They're clever +people up here, these moonfolk are, and they make use of everything going. +They've taken these electric clouds and turned 'em into a sort of Sky +Traction Company, and instead of letting 'em travel all around the +universe doing nothing and raising thunder generally, some of the richer +Brownies have formed a company to control them."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p><p>By this time the cloud had reached the point where our little party stood, +and the motorman, in response to the Bellows' signal, brought it to a +standstill.</p> + +<p>"Step lively, please," the conductor cried from the rear end.</p> + +<p>Tom and the two Andirons and the Poker and Bellows clambered aboard.</p> + +<p>The conductor clanged a bell. The motorman turned his wheel and the cloud +moved rapidly on.</p> + +<p>And what a queer crowd of folks there were on board that strange trolley +cloud. Tom had never seen such an interesting group before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>On the Trolley Cloud.</big></p> + + +<p>As I stated at the end of the last chapter, the travelers Tom and his +companions encountered upon the Trolley cloud were a wonderful lot. In the +first place, the whole situation was strange. Here was, in fact, a perfect +car, made of what at a distance looked to be nothing but a fleecy bit of +vapor. It had seats and signs—indeed, the advertising signs alone were +enough to occupy the mind of any person seeing them for the first time to +the exclusion of all else, what with the big painted placard at the end, +saying:</p> + +<p class='center'> +FOR POLAR BEARS GO TO ARCTICS<br /> +<span class="smcap">Fifty-seven Varieties</span>.<br /> +No Home Complete Without Them.</p> + +<p>Another showing a picture of Potted Town, in which all the inhabitants +lived on canned food and things that came in jars, reading:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is the famous Potted Town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where everything is done up brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We live on lobsters tinned, and beans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And freshly caught and oiled sardines;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On ham and eggs done up in jars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And caramels that come in bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come buy a lot in Potted Town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And join the throngs we do up brown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A corner lot for fifty cents—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A bargain that is just immense.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An inner lot for forty-nine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For residence is just divine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If in a year you do not find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we are suited to your mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll give you fifteen cents in gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take back all the lots we've sold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, when in other lands you go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll recommend Soapolio.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Who on earth wants a Polar Bear at home?" ejaculated Tom as he read the +first.</p> + +<p>"I do," growled a deep bass voice at his side, and the little traveler, +turning to see who it was that had spoken, was surprised and really +startled to find himself seated next to a shaggy-coated beast of that +precise kind. "I do," repeated the Polar Bear, "and if anybody says I +don't I'll chew him up," and then he opened his mouth and glared at Tom as +if to warn the young man from pursuing the subject further.</p> + +<p>"So would I," put in Righty. "So would I if all the Polar Bears were like +you."</p> + +<p>The bear was apparently pleased by the compliment and, with a satisfied +wink at Righty, folded his fore legs over his chest and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll buy one of those lots in Potted Town," said a Kangaroo who +sat opposite to Tom.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't raise the money," growled a Flamingo who sat at the far end +of the car. "Thirty cents is your measure."</p> + +<p>"Let him alone, Flammy," said an Ostrich who was crowded uncomfortably in +between the Kangaroo and an old gentleman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> with one eye and a green beard +who, Tom learned later, was a leading citizen of Saturn. "He can't help it +if he's poor."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Ostrich," said the Kangaroo, with a sob. "I was very much +hurt by the Flamingo's remark. I have 19,627 children, and it keeps me +jumping all the time to support them."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 241px;"> +<a href="images/img072.jpg"><img src="images/img072_th.jpg" width="241" height="386" alt=""IT KEEPS ME JUMPING ALL THE TIME."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"IT KEEPS ME JUMPING ALL THE TIME."</span> +</div> + +<p>"I apologize," said the Flamingo. "My observations were most unjust. You +do not look like thirty cents at all, as I perceive at second glance. As I +look at you more closely you look like a $1.39 marked down to seventy-two. +But why don't you get up and give the lady your seat?"</p> + +<p>"Is there a lady on the car who wants it?" asked the Kangaroo, standing +up, and peering anxiously about him.</p> + +<p>"No, of course not," said the Flamingo, "but what difference does that +make? A true gentleman is polite whether there are ladies present or not."</p> + +<p>The Polar Bear opened his eyes and leaning forward glared at the +Flamingo.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't seem to be over-anxious about yourself," he growled. "Why don't +you give up your seat to the imaginary lady?"</p> + +<p>"Because, Mr. Bear," the Flamingo returned, "it would not be polite. The +seat I occupy is extremely uncomfortable, thanks to the crowding of the +Hippopotamus on my left and the indulgence in peanuts of the Monkey on my +right. By sitting down where I am, I am making a personal sacrifice."</p> + +<p>"There'll be a free fight in a minute," said the Poker, anxiously. "I +think we'd better get out."</p> + +<p>"You won't do anything of the sort," said the Conductor. "Nobody leaves +this car until we get there."</p> + +<p>"Get where?" demanded the Poker.</p> + +<p>"Anywhere," returned the Conductor. "Fares, please."</p> + +<p>"But we've all paid," said the Flamingo.</p> + +<p>"Somebody hasn't," replied the Conductor. "There are twenty-two on this +car and I've collected only twenty-one fares. I don't know who is the +deadhead. Therefore you must all pay. It is better that there should be +twenty-one lawsuits for a total damage of $1.25 than that this company +should lose a nickel. Juries disagree. Fares, please."</p> + +<p>"I decline to pay a second time," cried the Monkey.</p> + +<p>"And I—and I," came from all parts of the car; from Lefty and Righty, +from Tom, the Flamingo, the Hippopotamus and Polar Bear.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the Conductor, calmly. "I don't care. It isn't my money +that's lost, but I'll tell you one thing, this car doesn't stop until +you've all paid up!"</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the Polar Bear. "I want to get off at the Toboggan slide."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So do I—so do I," cried everybody.</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said the Conductor; "but that's your business, not mine. +Double your speed, Moty," he added, calling forward to the Motorman. +"These people want to get off. Of course, gentlemen and fellow beasts," he +continued, "I can't keep you from getting off, but this car is traveling +at the rate of four miles a minute, and if you try it, you do so at your +own risk. Fares, please."</p> + +<p>"It's an outrage!" said the Flamingo.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to jump," said the Kangaroo.</p> + +<p>"I think we'd better sit still, Tom," whispered Righty. "It would be +smithereens if we tried to get off the car going at this rate."</p> + +<p>"Don't mind me," said Tom. "I'm having a bully time. This is quite as good +fun as oscillating, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, sir," said the Conductor, in reply to the Kangaroo, "but I +must ask your name and address. I cannot prevent you from jumping, but I'm +required by the rules of the company to find out all about you before +letting you commit suicide. We need the information in case your heirs sue +the company. Married?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Kangaroo. "Sixteen times."</p> + +<p>"Any children?" queried the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"I have already said so," sobbed the Kangaroo; "19,627 of them."</p> + +<p>"Boys or girls?" asked the Conductor kindly.</p> + +<p>"Neither," replied the Kangaroo.</p> + +<p>"What?" cried the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"Kangaroos, every one of 'em," sobbed the unhappy passenger.</p> + +<p>"O, I see," said the Conductor, "What is your business?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Jumping," replied the Kangaroo.</p> + +<p>"Business address?" demanded the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"Number 28 Australia," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Home address?" questioned the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"Number 37 Melbourne," said the Kangaroo. "Melbourne is in Australia, you +know," he added.</p> + +<p>"Made your will?" put in the Conductor, suddenly.</p> + +<p>"What has that got to do with it?" cried the Kangaroo, angrily, but with a +nervous start.</p> + +<p>"We cannot permit you to jump unless you've made a will," said the +Conductor, politely. "You see, when you jump you leave the car, and we +don't know whom you leave the car to until we have read your will. You +might leave it to Tom or to Righty, or to the poetic Poker—or to old +Shaggy over there,"—pointing to the Polar Bear. "Inasmuch as it's our car +we have a right to know to whom you leave it."</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll stay where I am," said the Kangaroo meekly, very much +overcome by the Conductor's logic.</p> + +<p>"That's the answer," returned the Conductor. "You seem to be a very +sensible sort of Kangaroo. Fare, please!" And the Kangaroo, diving down +into his pocket, produced a five-cent piece, which he handed over to the +Conductor without further comment.</p> + +<p>"Anybody else think of jumping off?" asked the Conductor pleasantly, +turning about and glancing over the other occupants of the car.</p> + +<p>"I might," said the Monkey, placidly.</p> + +<p>"O, indeed," said the Conductor, walking along the car to where the Monkey +sat. "You might think of jumping off, eh?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Monkey.</p> + +<p>"Do you know where you would land?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Monkey.</p> + +<p>"Where?" demanded the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"On my feet," said the Monkey. "Where else?"</p> + +<p>The Conductor was apparently much put out.</p> + +<p>"You're pretty smart, aren't you?" he said.</p> + +<p>"No," said the Monkey. "I'm only plain smart. I'm not pretty."</p> + +<p>"Everybody's talking about you? I presume," sneered the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"Not yet, but they will be," returned the Monkey, with a grin.</p> + +<p>"When?" demanded the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"When my tail is published," retorted the Monkey, with a grin.</p> + +<p>"Humph!" jeered the Conductor. "Great tail that."</p> + +<p>"No," said the Monkey, "not very great, but it has a swing about it—"</p> + +<p>"Say," interrupted the Hippopotamus, "I've got an idea. Somebody hasn't +paid his fare, eh?"</p> + +<p>"That's the point," said the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"And unless he owns up we've all got to go on in this car forever?"</p> + +<p>"You have," replied the Conductor, firmly.</p> + +<p>"Well, let's be sensible about it," said the Hippopotamus. "We're all +honest—at least I am—and I've paid once, and I admit I'm riding cheap +considering my weight. But who hasn't paid? Tom, did you pay?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I paid for our whole party," put in Righty.</p> + +<p>"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "Did you pay, Monk?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did," said the Monkey. "I paid for me and Polar Bear."</p> + +<p>"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "Has the Flamingo paid?"</p> + +<p>"I gave him a promissory note for my fare," said the Flamingo.</p> + +<p>"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "And now for the main question. Conductor, +have you paid your fare?"</p> + +<p>"I?" cried the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you!" roared the Hippopotamus, "Have you paid your fare?"</p> + +<p>"But—" the Conductor began.</p> + +<p>"I won't but," returned the Hippo. "I'm a Hippopotamus, I am. Not a goat. +Have you paid your fare?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I haven't," returned the Conductor, "because—"</p> + +<p>"That's it!" returned the Hippopotamus. "That's the whole point. He's the +one that's shy, and because we won't consent to pay his fare out of our +own pockets he's going to hold us up. I move we squash him."</p> + +<p>"But I say," roared the Conductor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pay your fare and shut up," growled the Polar Bear, "You began the +row. What's the use?"</p> + +<p>"Hear 'em quoting my poem," whispered the Poker to Tom.</p> + +<p>"I've taken his number," said the Flamingo. "It's eight billion and seven. +He's trying to beat his way."</p> + +<p>"Pay up, pay up," came from all parts of the car, and before he knew it +Tom found himself in the midst of an angry group surrounding the +Conductor, insisting that he should pay his fare.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who are you that you should ride free?" demanded the Flamingo. "The idea +of servants of the company having greater privileges than the patrons of +the road!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;"> +<a href="images/img078.jpg"><img src="images/img078_th.jpg" width="410" height="439" alt=""I HAVEN'T THE MONEY."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"I HAVEN'T THE MONEY."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you don't pay up right away," roared the Polar Bear, "I'll squeeze you +to death."</p> + +<p>"And I'll sit on you," put in the Hippopotamus.</p> + +<p>"I haven't the money," cried the Conductor, now thoroughly frightened.</p> + +<p>"Borrow it from the company," said the Polar Bear, "and ring it up."</p> + +<p>This the Conductor did, and a moment later, having reached the station, +rang the bell, and the car stopped.</p> + +<p>"All out!" he cried, and the whole party descended.</p> + +<p>"Who paid his fare, anyhow?" asked the Flamingo.</p> + +<p>"I didn't," said the Monkey.</p> + +<p>"No more did I," said the Hippopotamus. "The Kangaroo did, though. Didn't +you, Kangy?"</p> + +<p>"Only once," said the Kangaroo, "and that was the second time."</p> + +<p>"Let's get away from this crowd," said the Bellows. "They're not honest."</p> + +<p>"Right you are," said the Polar Bear. "They're a very bad lot. Come along; +let's get aboard this toboggan, and leave 'em behind."</p> + +<p>Whereupon Tom and his companions, accompanied by the Polar Bear, stepped +aboard the waiting Oscycle, and were soon speeding down the upper incline +of the Crescent Moon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>On the Oscycle—A Narrow Escape.</big></p> + + +<p>"Well," said the Polar Bear, as the Oscycle started on its downward +course: "I'm mighty glad we're off, and away from those other creatures on +that Trolley. They were a dishonest lot."</p> + +<p>"So am I," came a voice from behind him, that made the Bear jump +nervously, for it was none other than the Flamingo.</p> + +<p>"So are the rest of us," added a lot of voices in chorus, and Tom, turning +to see who beside himself and his companions had got aboard, was hugely +amused to see the Kangaroo, the Monkey, the Hippopotamus and all the other +creatures from the Trolley, save only the conductor and motorman, seated +there behind, as happy as you please.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't pay to associate with conductors," said the Flamingo. "They +don't think of anything but money all the time, and they're awfully rude +about it sometimes. Why, I knew a conductor once who refused to change a +$100 bill for me."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you ever had a $100 bill," growled the Hippopotamus.</p> + +<p>"I've got one I wouldn't sell for $1,000," said the Flamingo. "It's the +one I eat with," he added.</p> + +<p>"That's not legal tender," said the Polar Bear.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't change it if it was," sneered the Flamingo.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 521px;"> +<a href="images/img006.jpg"><img src="images/img006_th.jpg" width="521" height="356" alt="On the Oscycle." title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">On the Oscycle.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I could change it in a minute if I wanted to," said the Polar Bear, with +a chuckle.</p> + +<p>"What with, cash?" demanded the Flamingo, scornfully.</p> + +<p>"No—with one whack of my paw," said the Bear, shaking his fist menacingly +at the Flamingo. "I could change your whole face, for that matter," he +added, with a frown.</p> + +<p>"I was only fooling, Poley, old man," said the Flamingo, a trifle worried. +"Of course you could, but you wouldn't, would you?"</p> + +<p>"Not unless I had to," replied the Bear, "but, gee, aren't we just +whizzing along! Are you cold, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tom, with a shiver, "just a little."</p> + +<p>"Well, come sit next to me and I'll let you use my furs. I don't need 'em +myself. I'm a pretty warm Bear, considering where I come from."</p> + +<p>"Sit close, gentlemen," cried the man in charge of the Oscycle. "We're +coming to a thank-you-marm. Look out! Look out! Hang together. By jove, +there goes the Monkey."</p> + +<p>And sure enough, off the Monkey flew as the Oscycle crossed the hump at an +enormous rate of speed.</p> + +<p>"Hi, there, you fellows," the Monkey shrieked, as he landed in the soft +snow, "wait a minute. Hi, you! Stop! Wait for me!"</p> + +<p>"Can't do it," roared the man in charge. "Can't stop—going too fast."</p> + +<p>"But what am I going to doo-oo-oo?" shrieked the Monkey excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Get inside of a snowball and roll down. We'll catch you on the way back," +the Kangaroo yelled, and as they now passed out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> hearing of the +monkey's voice no one knew how the little creature took the suggestion.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad he's gone," said the Hippopotamus. "He was a nuisance—and I +tell you I had a narrow escape. He had his tail wound around my neck a +minute before. He might have yanked me off with him."</p> + +<p>"Yanked you?" said the Old Gentleman from Saturn, gazing contemptuously at +the Hippopotamus. "Bosh! The idea of a seven-pound monkey yanking a +three-ton Hippopotamus!"</p> + +<p>"What?" roared the man in charge. "A what how much which?"</p> + +<p>"Three-ton," said the Old Gentleman from Saturn. "That's what he weighs. I +know because he stepped on my toe getting off the Trolley."</p> + +<p>"But it's against the law!" cried the Man in Charge. "We're not allowed to +carry more than 1,000 pounds on these Machines."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" laughed the Kangaroo. "It's very evident, Hippy, that you'll have +to go way back and lose some weight."</p> + +<p>"I can't help weighing three tons," said the Hippopotamus. "I'm built that +way."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said the Man in Charge, wringing his hands in despair; +"but you'll have to get off. If you don't we'll go over the edge." His +voice rose to a shriek.</p> + +<p>Tom's heart sank and he half rose up.</p> + +<p>"Sit still," said the two Andirons, grabbing him by the arms. "We're in +for it. We've got to take what comes."</p> + +<p>"Right you are," said the Bellows. "Don't you bother, Tom. We'll come out +all right in the end."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<a href="images/img083.jpg"><img src="images/img083_th.jpg" width="413" height="484" alt=""MY OWN PRIVATE ICEBERG."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"MY OWN PRIVATE ICEBERG."</span> +</div> + +<p>"But what's the trouble, Mr. Man?" asked the Poker. "What's the Hippo's +weight got to do with our going over the edge?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, can't you see?" explained the Man in Charge. "His 6,000 pounds +pushing the machine along from behind there gives us just so much extra +speed, and all the brakes in the world won't stop us now we've got going +unless he gets off."</p> + +<p>The announcement caused an immediate panic, and the Polar Bear began to +cry like a baby.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why did I ever come?" he moaned as the tears trickled down his nose +and froze into a great icicle at the end of it. "When I might have stayed +home riding around on my own private iceberg?"</p> + +<p>"Stop your whimpering," said the Kangaroo. "Brace up and be a man."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be a man," blubbered the bear, "I'm satisfied to be a +poor, miserable little Polar Bear."</p> + +<p>"You've got to jump, Hippy," said the Flamingo. "That's all there is about +it."</p> + +<p>"Sir," replied the Hippopotamus solemnly, "I shall not jump. It would ill +comport with my dignity for me to try to jump as if I were merely a +Kangaroo. No sir. Here I sit, firm as a rock. You might as well ask an +elephant to dance a jig."</p> + +<p>"We'll put you off if you don't get off of your own accord," roared the +Polar Bear, bracing up, and removing the icicle from his nose he shook it +angrily at the Hippopotamus.</p> + +<p>"All right," said the Hippopotamus with a pleasant smile "All right. Has +any gentleman brought a derrick along with him to assist in the operation? +You don't happen to have a freight elevator in your pocket, do you, Mr. +Kangaroo?"</p> + +<p>"Pry him off, Poker," cried the Kangaroo.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I would if I could," answered the Poker, mournfully. "But I'm not a +crowbar."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, all together here," shouted the Man from Saturn. "Line up and +we'll shove him off."</p> + +<p>There was a frantic rush at the stolid Hippopotamus in response to this +suggestion, but they might as well have tried to batter down the rock of +Gibraltar by hurling feathers against it, so firmly fixed in his seat was +this passenger of outrageous weight.</p> + +<p>"Come again, gentlemen," said the Hippopotamus suavely. "There's nothing +better for the complexion than a good rub, and I assure you you have +placed me under an obligation to you."</p> + +<p>"Prod him with the icicle," said the Kangaroo to the Polar Bear.</p> + +<p>"I am not to be moved by tears, even if they are frozen and sharpened to a +point," laughed the Hippopotamus, as the Polar Bear did as he was told, +smashing the icicle without so much as denting the Hippo's flesh.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you won't jump, I will," said the Man from Saturn angrily. "If +I'm hurt I'll take it out of your hide when we meet again."</p> + +<p>"All right," retorted the Hippopotamus. "You'll have to get a steam drill +and blast it out. By-by."</p> + +<p>The man from Saturn jumped and landed head first in the snow, but whether +he was hurt or not the party never knew, for their speed was now so +terrific that he had barely landed before they whizzed past the bottom of +the hill and up the other incline. It became clear, too, as they sped on +that at such a fearful rate of progress nothing could now keep the Oscycle +from going over the edge, and the others began to lay plans for safety.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 378px;"> +<a href="images/img086.jpg"><img src="images/img086_th.jpg" width="378" height="492" alt="THE MAN FROM SATURN JUMPED." title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">THE MAN FROM SATURN JUMPED.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm going to jump for a passing trolley cloud the minute we get to the +edge," said the Kangaroo.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what I shall do," sobbed the Polar Bear. "If I land on my +feet I'll be all right, for they're big and soft, like sofa cushions, but +if I land on my head—"</p> + +<p>"That's softer yet, Poley," laughed the Flamingo, who appeared to be less +concerned than anybody. "If you land on your head it will be just as if +you fell into a great bowl of oatmeal, so you're all right."</p> + +<p>"I'm not afraid for myself," said the Poker. "I can drop any distance +without serious injury, being made of iron, and my friends, the Andirons, +are equally fortunate. The Bellows, too, is comparatively safe. The worst +that can happen to him is to have the wind knocked out of him. But—"</p> + +<p>"It's Tom we're bothered about," said the Righthandiron, with an anxious +glance at Lefty. "You see, we invited him to come off here with us, and—"</p> + +<p>"Who is he, anyhow?" demanded the Flamingo, glancing at Tom in such a way +that the youngster began to feel very uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"I'm a Dormouse," said Tom, remembering the agreement.</p> + +<p>"Not for this occasion," put in the Poker. "This time you're a boy, and +we've got to save you somehow or other and we'll do it, Tom, so don't be +afraid."</p> + +<p>"What kind of boy is he?" demanded the Flamingo. "One of these +bean-snapping boys that go around shooting robins and hooking birds' eggs +when they haven't anything else to do?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," said Righty. "He never snapped a bean at a bird in all +his life."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said the Flamingo. "I suppose he's been too busy pulling feathers +out of peacocks' tails to decorate his room with to be bothering with +robins and eggs."</p> + +<p>"Never did such a thing in all my born days," retorted Tom indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Probably not," sneered the Flamingo. "And why? Because you were so well +satisfied keeping a canary locked up in a cage for your own pleasure that +you hadn't any time to chase peacocks."</p> + +<p>"I've lived in the family forty years," said the Righthandiron, "and to my +knowledge there was never a caged bird in the house."</p> + +<p>"Really?" said the Flamingo, looking at Tom with interest. "Rather a new +kind of boy this. Very few boys have a good record where birds are +concerned."</p> + +<p>"Tom's no enemy to birds," observed the Bellows. "I know that because I've +been in his family longer than he has, and I've watched him."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Flamingo, "if that's the case, maybe I can help him. One +good turn deserves another. If he is good to birds I may be able at this +time to do good to him. This trouble ahead of us doesn't bother me, +because I have wings and can fly—" Here the Flamingo flapped his wings +proudly—"and I could take Tom on my back and fly anywhere with him, for I +am an extremely powerful bird. But I want to know one more thing about him +before I undertake to save him. We birds must stand together, you know, +and I'm not going to befriend a foe to my kind under any circumstances. +Thomas!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px;"> +<a href="images/img007.jpg"><img src="images/img007_th.jpg" width="351" height="513" alt="In a moment he was sitting astride the great bird's neck." title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">In a moment he was sitting astride the great bird's neck.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," replied Tom, all of a tremble, for he hadn't the slightest +idea what was coming, and as a truthful boy he knew that whatever the +consequences to himself might be he must give the correct answer.</p> + +<p>"Do you have Sunday breakfast at home?" asked the Flamingo.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Tom replied respectfully.</p> + +<p>"You have coffee and hominy and toast and fried potatoes and all that?" +queried the bird.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Tom answered, turning very pale, however, for he was in great +dread of what he now saw was likely to come next.</p> + +<p>"And—ah—fruit?" said the Flamingo.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, plenty of fruit," replied Tom very nervously.</p> + +<p>"And now, sir," said the Flamingo, severely, and ruffling his feathers +like an angry turkey, "now for the main point. Thomas—and, mind you I +want a truthful answer. Did you ever eat a broiled—Flamingo for your +Sunday morning breakfast?"</p> + +<p>Tom breathed a sigh of relief as the Flamingo blurted out the last part of +his question.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. Never!" he replied.</p> + +<p>"Then hurry and climb up on my shoulders here," the Flamingo cried. +"You're a boy after my own heart. I believe you'd be kind to a stuffed +parrot. But hurry—there's the edge right ahead of us. Jump—"</p> + +<p>Tom jumped and in a moment was sitting astride of the great bird's neck. +In his right hand he grasped the claw of Righty, in his left that of +Lefty, while these two clutched tightly hold of the Bellows and the Poker +respectively. A moment later the Oscycle reached the edge and dashed +wildly over it, the Kangaroo following out his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> plan of jumping higher +still and fortunately for himself catching a passing trolley cloud by +which he was borne back to the starting point again.</p> + +<p>As for the Polar Bear and the Hippopotamus, they plunged out into space, +while the group comprising our little party from home and the Flamingo +soared gracefully back to earth again, where the generous-hearted bird +deposited them safely on top of the most convenient Alp.</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much," said Tom, as he clambered down from the bird's neck +and stood upon solid ground again.</p> + +<p>"Don't mention it," said the Flamingo. "It's a pleasure to serve a +bird-defender and his friends," and with this he soared away.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad he didn't ask me if I ever ate broiled chicken for Sunday +breakfast," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked the Poker. "Do you?"</p> + +<p>"Do I?" cried Tom. "Well, I guess. I don't do anything else."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<p class='center'><big>Home Again</big></p> + + +<p>"And now," said the Lefthandiron as the Flamingo flew off and left them to +themselves, "it strikes me that it is time we set about having some +supper. I'm getting hungry, what with the excitement of that ride, and the +fact I haven't eaten anything but a bowlful of kindling wood since +yesterday morning."</p> + +<p>"I'm with you there," said Tom. "I've been hungry ever since we started +and that snow on the moon whetted my appetite."</p> + +<p>"Never knew a boy who wasn't hungry on all occasions," puffed the Bellows. +"Fact is, a boy wouldn't be a real boy unless he was hungry. Did you ever +know a boy that would confess he'd had enough to eat, Pokey?"</p> + +<p>"Once," said Poker, "I wrote a poem about him, but I never could get it +published. Want to hear it?"</p> + +<p>"Very much," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Well, here goes," said the Poker anxiously, and he recited the following +lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE WONDROUS STRIKE OF SAMMY DIKE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Young Sammy Dike was a likely boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lived somewhere in Illinois,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His father was a blacksmith, and<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Ma made pies for all the land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pies were all so very fine<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +<span class="i0">That folks who sought them stood in line<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the shop of Dike & Co.,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid passing rain, in drifting snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fear they'd lose the tasty prize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of "Dike's new patent home-made pies."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One day, alas, poor Mrs. Dike,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who with her pies had made the strike,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By overwork fell very ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all her orders could not fill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So ill was she she could not bake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One-half the pastry folks would take;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so her loving husband said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd take her place and cook, instead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of making horse-shoes. Kindly Joe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To help his wife in time of woe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He worked by night, he worked by day—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet worked, alas, in his own way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made such pies, I've understood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As but a simple blacksmith could.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He made them hard as iron bars;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He made them tough as trolley cars.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seemed to think a pie's estate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was to be used as armor plate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not a pie would he let go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That had not stood the sledge's blow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the anvil in his sanctum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence naught went out until he'd spanked 'em.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Result? With many alas and 'lack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pies Joe made they all came back.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From folks who claimed they could not go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The latest pies of Dike & Co.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here it was that Sammy came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To help his parents in the game.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Can't eat 'em?" cried indignant Joe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Can't eat 'em? Well, I want to know!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, Sammy, show these people here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How most unjust their plaint, my dear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, lad, and eat the luscious pies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I have made and they despise."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor loyal Sammy then began<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Upon those stodgy pies—the plan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was very pleasing in his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Sammy loved his mother's pies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He nibbled one, he bit another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then began to think of mother.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He chewed and gnawed, he munched and bit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But no—he could not swallow it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, poor child, it was so tough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had to say he'd had enough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though never in the world before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was lad who had not wanted more.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And what became of Sammy's Ma?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what became of Sammy's Pa?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their profits gone, how could they eke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A living good from week to week?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They took the recipe for pies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mother made and—Oh, so wise—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Father make them in his way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In form elliptical, they say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the football season came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Won fortune great, and wondrous fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the wildest hope of dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By selling these to football teams.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And those by whom this game is played<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Called them the finest ever made.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The Shuregood football" made of mince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has never quite been equaled since;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And few who kick them with their feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know they're the pies Sam couldn't eat—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only pies upon this orb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A healthy boy could not absorb.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 409px;"> +<a href="images/img093.jpg"><img src="images/img093_th.jpg" width="409" height="421" alt=""UPON THE ANVIL IN HIS SANCTUM."" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"UPON THE ANVIL IN HIS SANCTUM."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Great poem that, eh?" said the Bellows, poking Tom in the ribs, and +grinning broadly.</p> + +<p>"Splendid," said Tom. "New use for pies, that."</p> + +<p>"It's beautifully long," said Lefty.</p> + +<p>"But why couldn't it be published?" asked Righty. "Wasn't it long enough?"</p> + +<p>"The editor said it wasn't true," sighed the Poker. "He had three boys of +his own, you know, and he said there never was a boy who couldn't eat a +pie even if it was made of crowbars and rubber, as long as it was pie."</p> + +<p>"I guess he was right," observed Righty. "I knew a boy once who ate soft +coal just because somebody told him it was rock-candy."</p> + +<p>"Did he like it?" asked Tom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't think he did," replied Righty, "but he never let on that he +didn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow," put in Lefty, "it's time we had something to eat and we'd +better set out for the Lobster shop or the Candydike—I don't care which."</p> + +<p>"Or the what?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"The Candydike?" said the Lefthandiron. "Didn't you ever hear of the +Candydike?"</p> + +<p>"Never," responded Tom. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"It's a candy Klondike," explained the Lefthandiron. "There are Gumdrop +Mines and Marshmallow Lodes and Deposits of Chocolate Creams beyond the +dreams of avarice. Remember 'em, Righty?"</p> + +<p>"Oom, mh, mh!" murmured Righty, smacking his lips with joy. "Do I remember +them! O, my! Don't I just. Why, I never wanted to come back from there. I +had to be pulled out of the Peppermint mine with a derrick. And the +river—O, the river. Was there anything ever like it?"</p> + +<p>Tom's mouth began to water, he knew not why.</p> + +<p>"What about the river?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Soda water flowing from Mountain to the Sea," returned the Righthandiron, +smacking his lips again ecstatically. "Just imagine it, Tom. A great +stream of Soda Water fed by little rivulets of Vanilla and Strawberry and +Chocolate syrup, with here and there a Cream brook feeding the +combination, until all you had to do to get a glass of the finest nectar +ever mixed was to dip your cup into the river and there you were."</p> + +<p>Tom closed his eyes with very joy at the mere idea.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"O—where is this river?" he cried, when he was able to find words to +speak.</p> + +<p>"In the Candydike, of course. Where else?" said the Poker. "But of course +we can go to the Lobster shop if you prefer."</p> + +<p>"Not I," said Tom. "I don't care for any Lobster shop with a Candydike in +sight."</p> + +<p>"Don't be rash," said the Bellows, who apparently had a strong liking for +the Lobster shop. "Of course we all love the Candydike because it is so +sweet, but for real pleasure the Lobster shop is not to be despised. I +don't think you ought to make up your mind as to where you'll go next in +too much of a hurry."</p> + +<p>"What's the fun in the Lobster shop?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Purely intellectual, if you know what that means," said the Bellows. "You +get your mind filled there instead of your stomach. You meet the wittiest +oysters, and the most poetic clams, and the most literary lobsters at the +Lobster shop you ever saw. For my part I love the Lobster shop. I can get +something to eat anywhere. I can get a stake at any lumber yard in town. I +can get a chop at any ax factory in the country, and if I want sweets I +can find a Cakery—"</p> + +<p>"Bakery, you mean?" said Tom.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't at all," said the Bellows. "I mean Cakery. A Cakery is a +place where they sell cake, and when I say Cakery I mean what I say. Just +because you call it Bakery doesn't prove anything."</p> + +<p>"We're out for pleasure, not for argument," growled the Lefthandiron. "Go +on and say what you've got to say."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," said the Bellows, "what I was trying to say, when interrupted, was +that you can get your stomach filled almost anywhere, but your mind—that +is different. I'm hungrier in my mind than in my stomach, and I'd rather +be fed just now on the jests of an oyster, the good stories of a clam and +the anecdotes of a Lobster, than have the freedom of the richest +marshmallow mine in creation."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure I don't know what to do," said Tom, very much perplexed. +The Candydike was glorious, but the Lobster shop, too, had its +attractions, for Tom was fond of witty jokes and good anecdotes. The idea +of having them from the lips of lobsters and oysters was very appealing.</p> + +<p>"I say," he said in a minute, "why isn't the Lobster shop the best place +for us to go after all, if we are really hungry? We could sit down at the +table, you know, and listen to the Lobster's anecdotes, and then eat him +afterward. In that way we could hear the stories and fill up beside."</p> + +<p>"Well—I de-clare!" cried the Bellows. "What an idea! You most ungrateful +boy!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said the Poker. "Not at all. It's merely the habit of his +kind. Many's the time when I've heard of men and women devouring their +favorite authors. Tom couldn't better show his liking for the lobster than +by eating him. On the other hand, if he goes there and turns his back on +the Candydike he'll miss the most wonderful sight in all creation, and +that is the Nesselrode Cataract on the Soda Water river. It is located at +the point where the Vanilla glacier comes down from the Cream mountains on +the one side, and the famous Marrons orchards line the other bank for a +distance of seven miles. It's a perfectly gorgeous sight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mercy me!" cried Tom. "Indeed, I should like to see that."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 396px;"> +<a href="images/img098.jpg"><img src="images/img098_th.jpg" width="396" height="419" alt="DEVOURING HIS FAVORITE AUTHOR." title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">DEVOURING HIS FAVORITE AUTHOR.</span> +</div> + +<p>"No doubt," put in the Bellows. "Nevertheless, you can see Nesselrode +pudding at home at any time, but did you ever see there a Turtle that can +recite a fairy story of his own composition or a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> Crab capable of +narrating the most thrilling story of the American revolutionary war that +anybody ever dreamed of?"</p> + +<p>"O dear, O dear, O dear!" said Tom. "What shall I do?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, from far down in the valley there seemed to come a crash and +a roar, following close upon which the barking of a dog made itself heard.</p> + +<p>"The ice is slipping," cried the Poker, as the mountain trembled beneath +them. "There's going to be an avalanche, and we're on it!"</p> + +<p>The whole top of the mountain shook as if it had been in an earthquake, +and then it began to crash rapidly downward.</p> + +<p>"Dear me! How annoying," observed the Bellows. "As if we haven't had +enough coasting this trip without taking a turn on an avalanche."</p> + +<p>"But what shall we do?" roared the Andirons excitedly. "I never foresaw +this."</p> + +<p>"Slide, I guess," said the Poker calmly. "It's all we can do."</p> + +<p>The barking of the dog approached closer.</p> + +<p>"Good!" cried Righty, clapping his claws together gleefully, as an idea +flashed across his mind. "It's one of those famous St. Bernards; he'll +take care of Tom, and as for us—"</p> + +<p>The thunderous roar of the descending avalanche drowned the sounds of +Righty's voice, and all that could now serve as a means of conveying their +thoughts to each other was the making of wild motions with the hands. The +Poker stood erect and stiff, looking grimly ahead of him, as if resolved +to meet his fate bravely; the Bellows threw himself flat upon the glacier +and panted; while the two Andirons, standing guard on either side of Tom, +peered anxiously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> about for the rescuer of their little guest, nor did +they look in vain, for in a few moments the huge figure of a St Bernard +appeared below them, rushing with all his might and main to their side. +For some reason or other, the St Bernard seemed to have something familiar +about him, but Tom couldn't quite say what it was.</p> + +<p>"Bow-wow-wow!" the dog barked gleefully, for this was just the sort of +work he most enjoyed.</p> + +<p>Strangely enough, Tom seemed to understand dog language for the first time +in his life, for the bark said to him as plainly as you please: "Climb on +my back sonny, and I'll have you out of this in a jiffy."</p> + +<p>The lad lost not a moment in obeying. Aided by the affectionate boosts of +the Andirons he soon found himself lying face downward upon the broad, +shaggy back of the faithful beast.</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes to shut out the blinding snow for a moment, and then—</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Tom sat up and rubbed them, for there was no snow, no avalanche, no Alp, +no St. Bernard dog in sight. Only a friendly pair of andirons staring +fixedly at him out of the fireplace of his father's library: the poker +standing like a grenadier at one side, and the bellows, hanging from a +brass-headed nail on the other. Beside these, lying on the rug beside him, +his head cocked to one side, his eyes fixed intently upon Tom's face, and +his tail wagging furiously, was Jeffy, not a St Bernard, but a shaggy +little Scotch terrier.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Jeffy!" said Tom, as he rubbed his eyes a second time. "Where have +you been all this time?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 339px;"> +<a href="images/img008.jpg"><img src="images/img008_th.jpg" width="339" height="504" alt=""Was it you who rescued me from the avalanche?"" title="" /></a> +<span class="caption">"Was it you who rescued me from the avalanche?"</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Woof!" barked Jeff, and cocking his eye knowingly.</p> + +<p>"And was it you who rescued me from the avalanche?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"Woof!" replied Jeff, as much as to say he wouldn't tell.</p> + +<p>"Well, it was mighty good of you, if you did, Jeffy," Tom said, +gratefully. "Only I wish you could have taken me to the Candydike or the +Lobster shop instead of straight home—because I'm not only hungry Jeffy, +but I should very much have liked to visit those wonderful places."</p> + +<p>"Woof!" said Jeffy.</p> + +<p>Which Tom took to be a promise that his rescuer would do better next time.</p> + +<p>The little party has not been off again since, but the other night some +pieces of newspaper were thrown into the fire place and all but one of +them were burned. Righty held this one under his claw and Tom, while +trying to get a word out of his friend, caught sight of it.</p> + +<p>"Hello," said Tom, as he read what was printed on the clipping. "The +astronomers at the Lick observatory have discovered a new constellation in +the southeast heavens. It is of huge dimensions and resembles in its +outlines the figure of a rhinoceros or some such pachydermatous creature."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never!" he cried, as he read. "I say, Righty, do you believe +that's the old Hippopotamus?"</p> + +<p>And Righty said never a word, but the look in his eye indicated that he +thought there was something in the notion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 207px;"> +<a href="images/img115.jpg"><img src="images/img115_th.jpg" width="207" height="166" alt="" title="" /></a> +</div> + +<p class='center'><big>The End</big></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Andiron Tales, by John Kendrick Bangs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDIRON TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 24130-h.htm or 24130-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/1/3/24130/ + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Jason Isbell, Christine D. and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Andiron Tales + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + +Release Date: January 2, 2008 [EBook #24130] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDIRON TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Jason Isbell, Christine D. and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "Get him a mirror."] + + + + + ANDIRON + TALES + + BY + + JOHN KENDRICK BANGS + + ILLUSTRATED BY + CLARE VICTOR DWIGGINS + + THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. + PUBLISHERS + PHILADELPHIA + +[Illustration] + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1906, + BY + THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. + + + + + CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER I. + TOM AND THE ANDIRONS 9 + + CHAPTER II. + THE STORY OF EBENEZER 17 + + CHAPTER III. + OFF IN THE CLOUDS 25 + + CHAPTER IV. + THE POKER TELLS HIS STORY 38 + + CHAPTER V. + THE POKER CONCLUDES HIS STORY 45 + + CHAPTER VI. + THE LITERARY BELLOWS 52 + + CHAPTER VII. + THEY REACH THE CRESCENT MOON 61 + + CHAPTER VIII. + ON THE TROLLEY CLOUD 70 + + CHAPTER IX. + ON THE OSCYCLE--A NARROW ESCAPE 80 + + CHAPTER X. + HOME AGAIN 91 + +[Illustration] + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + BY CLARE VICTOR DWIGGINS + + + "GET HIM A MIRROR," SAID THE LEFTHANDIRON. _In colors Frontispiece_ + + "I'M NOT A DORMOUSE" 12 + + "A LITTLE TALE WHICH I WILL WAG FOR YOU" 15 + + "AND THEN DIE WITHOUT PAYING FOR IT" 20 + + "JUST WHAT I WANTED FOR MY LUNCH" 22 + + "TRIED TO BITE MY HEAD OFF" 23 + + "A MOUSE WITH A DOOR TO HIM" 31 + + "THERE'S NO BETTER PLACE THAN THIS CLOUD," SAID THE POKER. + _In colors_ 33 + + "IN ONE EAR AND OUT OF THE OTHER" 34 + + "A POKER WHO COULD ONLY POKE" 39 + + "No," she said, "I'm not your mother, I am a Fairy." _In colors_ 40 + + "DOESN'T HAVE TO LIVE IN A BATHTUB" 41 + + "EAGLES NEVER HAVE UMBRELLAS" 46 + + "ONE DAY THE WOODCUTTERS CAME" 49 + + "SO I REALLY LIVE HOME" 51 + + "WHAT'S THE USE OF FIGHTING?" 53 + + "I BLOW A STORY OF TWO, NOW AND THEN," SAID THE BELLOWS. _In Colors_ 54 + + HE GAVE A TREMENDOUS WHEEZE 58 + + "COLUMBUS WAS A GREAT MAN" 63 + + "YOU SEE, IT'S THIS SHAPE" 66 + + "WHY, IT'S REALLY A TROLLEY!" HE CRIED. _In colors_ 68 + + "IT KEEPS ME JUMPING ALL THE TIME" 72 + + "I HAVEN'T THE MONEY" 78 + + ON THE OSCYCLE. _In colors_ 80 + + "MY OWN PRIVATE ICEBERG" 83 + + THE MAN FROM SATURN JUMPED 86 + + TOM JUMPED, AND IN A MOMENT WAS SITTING ASTRIDE THE GREAT BIRD'S + NECK. _In colors_ 89 + + "UPON THE ANVIL IN HIS SANCTUM" 93 + + DEVOURING HIS FAVORITE AUTHOR 98 + + TOM IS AWAKENED BY THE AVALANCHE. _In colors_ 100 + + TAIL PIECE 102 + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +Andiron Tales + +By John Kendrick Bangs + + + Being the Remarkable Adventures of a Boy + with a Lively Imagination + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +Tom and the Andirons + + +It was perfectly natural in one respect, anyhow. There was really no +reason in the world why Tom should not lie upon the great bear-skin rug in +front of the library fire those cold winter nights if he wanted to, nor +need anyone be surprised that he should want to. It was indeed a most +delightful place to lie in. The bear-skin was soft and in every way +comfortable and comforting. The fireplace itself was one of those huge +hospitable affairs that might pass in some apartment houses in our narrow +cooped-up city streets for a butler's pantry or small reception room--in +fact in the summer time Tom used to sit in the fireplace and pretend he +was in his office transacting business with such of his sister's dolls as +could be induced to visit him there; giving orders to imaginary clerks and +bookkeepers and keeping an equally fanciful office boy continually on the +run. And then apart from the rug and the fireplace it was a beautiful +room in which they were. Tom's father was very fond of books, and, +although he was a great many years older than Tom, he had not forgotten +how to enjoy the very same kind of books that Tom liked. He was not +ashamed to have one little niche of his library filled with the stories +which had delighted him in his boyhood days, and which still continued to +please him, and, of course, this lent an additional charm to the library +in Tom's eyes. It held his heroes, and on some of those drowsy nights when +the only sounds to break the stillness of the room were the scratching of +his father's pen, the soft humming of some little tune by his mother +sitting and sewing by the evening lamp, and the fierce crackling of the +burning logs, Tom could almost see these heroes stepping down from the +shelves and like so many phantoms flitting in and about the room. In fact, +upon one occasion, Tom is convinced he did see these very people having a +dance upon the great tiled hearth--but of that you shall hear later. + +There were many other things in the library beside his heroes that +interested Tom. There was a little Japanese ivory god that used to sit up +on the mantel shelf and gaze wisely at him, as much as to say, "Dear me, +boy, what a lot I could tell you if I only would!" Then, too, there was a +very handsome vase on top of one of the book-cases that had two remarkable +dragons climbing up its sides, the tail of one of them so fixed that if +anyone chose to use the vase for a pitcher the tail would make a very +convenient handle, at which the other dragon always appeared to be +laughing heartily, which he had no reason to do, because his own tail was +not arranged any too gracefully. But the things that, next to Jack the +Giant Killer, and Beauty and the Beast, and Tom Thumb and his other +heroes and heroines, Tom liked the most, were two great brazen Andirons +that stood in the fireplace. To Tom these Andirons, though up to the night +when our story begins he had never seen them move, seemed almost to live. +They had big, round, good-natured faces, that shone like so much gold. +Their necks were slight and graceful, but as they developed downward +toward their handsome feet the Andirons grew more portly, until finally +they came to look very much like a pair of amiable sea serpents without +much length. Tom's uncle said they looked like cats, with sunflowers for +heads, swan necks for bodies, and very little of the cat about them save +the claws. This description made Tom laugh, but the more he thought about +it the more truthful did it seem to him to be. + +For so long a time as Tom could remember, summer and winter, those +Andirons had sat staring stolidly ahead in their accustomed place, and not +until that December night had they even so much as winked at him--but on +that occasion they more than made up for all their previous silence and +seeming unsociability. Tom was lying on the rug, as usual, and I am afraid +was almost asleep. The logs were burning fiercely and at first Tom thought +that the words he heard spoken were nothing but their crackling and +hissing, but in a minute he changed his mind about that for the very good +reason that the "Lefthandiron"--as Tom's uncle once called it--winked his +eye at Tom and said: + +"Hullo, Sleepyhead." + +Tom only returned the wink. He was too much surprised to say anything. + +"His name isn't Sleepyhead," said the Righthandiron, with a grin. "It's +Thomas D. Pate." + +"What's the D for?" asked the other. + +"Dozy--Thomas Dozy Pate," exclaimed the Righthandiron. "His ancestors were +Sleepyheads on his mother's side, and Dozy Pates on his father's side." + +"'Tisn't so at all!" cried Tom, indignantly. "My mama wasn't a Sleepyhead, +and my name isn't Dozy Pate." + +"He's such a Sleepyhead he doesn't know his own name," said the +Lefthandiron. + +[Illustration: "I'M NOT A DORMOUSE."] + +"That's a curious thing about the Sleepyheads and the Dozy Pates. They +very seldom know their own names--and even when they do they always deny +that they are what they are. Why I really believe if I told Tom here that +he was a Dormouse he'd deny it and say he was a boy." + +"I am a boy," said Tom, stoutly, "and I'm not a Dormouse." + +Both of the Andirons laughed heartily at this, and the Righthandiron, +dancing a little jig, sang over and over again this couplet: + + "He can't be very smart, I wis, + If he can't see that's what he is." + +"Get him a mirror," said the Lefthandiron. "We can't blame him for +thinking he is a boy, because everybody has told him he is a boy except +ourselves, and being a Sleepyhead he believes as a rule what he is told if +it is pleasant to believe." + +"Well, I can't see why he objects to being a Dormouse," said the +Righthandiron. "I think Dormice are very handsome and just too sweet and +amiable to live. They are much pleasanter mice than Windowmice and +Stairmice--don't you think so?" + +"Indeed I do," returned the Lefthandiron, "and Tom is about the finest +Dormouse I ever saw, and I wish he'd let us get acquainted with him." + +"So do I," said the other, "but if he doesn't it's his own loss. You and I +can go off to Santa Clausville by ourselves and have quite as good a time, +if not better, than if he were along with us. I've noticed one thing, my +dear Lefty, two's best anyhow. + + "Two people in an omnibus + Where there's but one settee, + Can both be seated with less fuss + Than if the twain were three. + + "If there is candy for but four, + This maxim still holds true, + Each one will get so much the more + If there are only two. + + "Two boys upon a teeter board + Can have just twice the fun + That any seesaw can afford + If there's another one. + +"So I say, what if he doesn't come? You and I will enjoy ourselves just as +much. There'll be more candy for us, we won't have to divide the good time +we have up into more than two parts, and, what is more, neither of us will +have to carry the Dormouse." + +Here the two Andirons gave a sidelong glance at Tom, and saw that he was +smiling. + +"What are you laughing at?" asked the Righthandiron. "Eh, Dormouse?" + +"If I'll be a Dormouse will you take me off on your good time with you?" +asked Tom. + +"Certainly, but we can't take anybody who denies that he is what he is or +who says that his name doesn't belong to him." + +"But I can't tell a story," said Tom. + +"Nobody asked you to," returned the Righthandiron. "All we ask is that +you'll say nothing about it. If we say your name is Sleepyhead you needn't +try to make people think we don't know what we are talking about by saying +that your name isn't Sleepyhead, but Tommy Wideawake, or Billy Lemonstick, +or something else; and when we choose to state that you are a Dormouse we +want you to be a Dormouse and not go crying out through the street, 'I am +a huckleberry.' In the countries we visit people think we are the wisest +of the wise, and what we say no one ever dares dispute." + +"So, you see, my dear Dormouse," said the other, "we couldn't possibly +take you off with us unless you fall in with our plans and submit to our +calling you anything we please." + +"I don't see why you are not willing to admit that I am a boy, though," +insisted Tom, who, although he was extremely anxious to go off with the +Andirons, did not really like to lose sight of the fact that he was a boy. +"What good does it do you or me or anybody else for me to admit that I am +a Dormouse, for instance?" + +"A little tail which I will wag for you," said the Righthandiron, "will +explain how that is. Did you ever know a boy named Ebenezer J. Carrottop?" + +"No, I never heard of any person with such an absurd name as that," +returned Tom. + +[Illustration: "A LITTLE TALE WHICH I WILL WAG FOR YOU."] + +"Well, you are very fortunate not to have been one of Ebenezer's +particular friends," said the Righthandiron. "If you had been, the story I +am going to tell you would have made you very unhappy. As it is, not +having known Ebenezer, and, having in fact taken a dislike to him because +of his name, the story will amuse you more than otherwise." + +"Good," said Tom; "I like to be amused." + +"That being the case," said the Andiron, "I will proceed at once to tell +you the story of Ebenezer." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +The Story of Ebenezer + + +"Ebenezer was a boy very much like yourself in several ways," resumed the +Righthandiron. "He wasn't one of the Sleepyhead or Dozy Pate families, but +he was next thing to it. He was nephew of Senator Takeanap, and a grandson +of old General Snoraloud--but he'd never admit it. He used to get just as +angry when we reminded him that he was quite as much of a Snoraloud as a +Carrottop, as you were when we called you Sleepyhead, and when my brother +Lefty here said to him, 'Hullo, Weasel,' he didn't like it a bit better +than you did when we said you were a Dormouse. He insisted that he was a +boy, and for all we could do we couldn't get him to admit that he was a +Weasel--" + + "He was the most persistent lad + That I have ever seen. + He'd always say that bad was bad, + That blue could not be green. + + "We couldn't get him to deny + That white was always white, + And though we'd try and try and try + He'd say that he was right," + +interrupted the Lefthandiron. + +"And wasn't he?" asked Tom. + +"That isn't a part of the story," snapped the Righthandiron, "and if you +don't stop interrupting me I'll never speak to you again." + +"I didn't mean to," said Tom apologetically. + +"That's just the worst part of it," snapped the Andiron. "You are an +interrupter by nature, and that is the most incurable kind. But, as I was +telling you, Ebenezer was bound to be a boy, and no amount of talk on our +part could convince him that he was a Weasel. Well, Lefty and I were very +young then, and up to the time of which I am speaking we had always made +our little trips in the Fairy Country or in Giantland all by ourselves, +and we had lots of fun together I can warrant. This time, however, we +decided to take Ebenezer with us to Giantland, which was a place he had +often heard us tell about, and concerning which he was very curious. We +told him that it would never do for him to visit Giantland, because the +Giants were always very hungry, and liked nothing better to eat than a boy +like himself. It would be dangerous for him to go, we said, unless he +would promise to obey us in everything we told him to do, and to admit +that he was whatever we chose to call him." + +"You see, my dear Tom," said the Lefthandiron in explanation, "the Giants +had such confidence in us that they accepted as true anything we said, so +that if we should happen to meet a hungry ogre and he should want to eat +Ebenezer because he was a boy, all that would be necessary for us to do to +save Ebenezer was to say, 'Hold on. He is not a boy. He is a Weasel.' Then +Ebenezer would be all right, because Giants do not eat Weasels." + +"I see," said Tom, nodding his head. + +"Ebenezer promised that he would obey us and wouldn't deny that he was a +Weasel if we told the Giants he was one, and we took him off with us," +resumed the Righthandiron. "We went straight to Giantland and had a +perfectly lovely time until about an hour before it was time to return, +when we encountered a huge Giant named Skihigh--and my, how hungry he was! +He was hungrier than Lefty's friend, who went into a restaurant and +ordered + + "'Thirty-seven pounds of cake, + Sixty-four lamb chops, + Eighteen portions of beefsteak, + Forty ginger pops; + Seventeen vanilla puffs, + Twenty fresh-caught dabs, + Thirty-eight rich raisin duffs, + Ninety soft-shell crabs. + + "'Let those go for course the first; + Let the second be + Shrimps and oysters till I burst, + Thirteen quarts of tea. + Then a dozen sugared hams, + One small cabbage head, + Ninety dozen pinky clams, + Sixty loaves of bread. + + "'Seven quarts of French canned pease, + And a pound or two + Of your Gorgonzola cheese + For my lunch will do." + Then the waiter standing by + In the usual way + Asked him: 'Won't you also try + Our hot mince today?'" + +"I don't want to interrupt," said Tom, "but it seems to me that man must +have been awful rich." + +"No, he wasn't," returned Lefty. "He was going to eat the dinner, you +know, and then die without paying for it. He wasn't a very good man." + +[Illustration: "AND THEN DIE WITHOUT PAYING FOR IT."] + +"No," remarked the story-teller. "But he was a very hungry man, in which +respect he was just like the Giant I am trying to tell you about. And my, +how the Giant roared with glee when he caught sight of Ebenezer. + +"'Good!' he cried, 'that's just what I wanted for my lunch. A nice fat +boy.' + +"Then he reached down," said the Righthandiron, "and grabbed Ebenezer by +the arm, and was about to eat him just as he would a piece of asparagus, +when Lefty here cried out: + +"'Avast there, Skihigh! That isn't a nice fat boy. That is only a +miserable Weasel.' + +"'Pah!' said Skihigh, with a face such as you put on when you take a +horrid tasting medicine. 'Pah! I can't eat Weasels.' + +"And with that he put Ebenezer down on the road again and was about to +walk along about his business when what did that foolish little Ebenezer +do but up and deny that he was a Weasel! + +"'I'm not a Weasel,' he yelled. 'And I am a boy--and a fine boy at that!' + +"Skihigh stopped short, whirled about and rushed back to where Ebenezer +was standing. + +"'What's that you say?' he said eagerly. + +"'I say I am not a Weasel, but a fine fat boy,' said the vainglorious +Ebenezer stoutly. + +"'Then my friends, the Andirons have deceived me, have they?' roared the +Giant. + +"'Yes,' replied Ebenezer. 'But I can't stand being called a Weasel.' + +[ILLUSTRATION: "JUST WHAT I WANTED FOR MY LUNCH."] + +"With that," said the Righthandiron, "Skihigh clapped Ebenezer into his +market basket and then turned on Lefty and me. Lefty managed to get away, +but I was caught." + +"What did he do to you?" asked Tom, trembling with excitement. + +"He tried to bite my head off," said Righty, with a laugh. "See those two +dents on either side of my neck?" + +Tom looked, and sure enough there were the dents--not very deep, but quite +large enough to be seen. + +"His teeth broke when he got that far," said Righty. "I'm pretty hard--but +you see it needn't have happened at all if Ebenezer had only kept quiet +about his not being a Weasel." + +[ILLUSTRATION: "TRIED TO BITE MY HEAD OFF."] + +"Was he eaten by Skihigh?" asked Tom. + +"I don't know," replied Righty. "Lefty and I didn't wait to find out, and +we have never been back there since. I don't believe he did eat him, for +two reasons. One is that after trying to bite my head off Skihigh hadn't +teeth enough left to eat anything with, and the other reason is that I +saw Ebenezer two years afterwards on his way to school one beautiful +spring morning. I noticed him particularly because, although it was a +lovely clear morning, he had his umbrella up and positively declined to +put it down and carry it closed, because, he said, an umbrella couldn't +possibly be a cane, and he wasn't going to try to make anybody suppose it +was a cane." + +"I don't see anything in that story to make me unhappy, even if I were a +chum of Ebenezer's," said Tom, as the Andiron finished. + +"You don't? Don't you think it was sad that the Giant couldn't eat a boy +who'd behave in that way?" asked Righty, with a scornful glance at Tom. + +"It was very sad, Tom," said the Lefthandiron. "So don't deny +it--especially if you want to go off on our trip to the stars." + +"Are you really going to the stars?" gasped Tom, breathless at the very +idea and forgetting all about Ebenezer. + +"Perhaps," returned the Andiron. + +"And may I go with you?" whispered Tom. + +"You may if you will do whatever we tell you, and admit that you are a +Dormouse," said Righty. + +"All right, I'll obey," said Tom. + +"And what did you say your name was?" asked Lefty. + +"Sleepyhead Dozy Pate Dormouse," said Tom, with a laugh. + +"You'll do," returned the Righthandiron, stepping lightly out of the +fireplace. "Now sit astride of my back and take hold of Lefty's right +claw." + +Tom did as he was told, and in an instant he was flying up through space +toward the stars. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +Off in the Clouds + + +"Now the point to be decided," said the Lefthandiron, after he and his +companions had been flying through space for some time, "is where we are +going. There are two or three things we can do, and Tom can have his +choice as to which it shall be." + +"Subject, of course, to my advice," said the Righthandiron, with a bow to +Tom. "You can go where you please if I please. See?" + +"Yes," said Tom. "I see. I can have my way as long as it is your way." + +"Precisely," said the Righthandiron, with an approving nod. "And as you +may have heard, precisely means exactly so. You can have your way as long +as it is my way, which shows how generous I am. Fond of my way as I am, I +am willing to divide it with you." + +"All right," returned Tom. "I'm very much obliged. What are the two things +we can do?" + +"Well," said the Lefthandiron, scratching his head softly, "we can fly up +a little higher and sit down and watch the world go round; we can take the +long jump, or we can visit Saturn." + +"What was the first?" asked Tom. + +"To fly up a little higher, where we can get a better view; to sit down +there and watch the world go round. It is an excellent way to travel. It's +awfully easy--in fact, it isn't you that travels at all. It's the world +that does the traveling, while all you've got to do is to sit down there +and keep an eye on it. It's like a big panorama, only it's real, and any +time you see a place going by that you think you'd like to see more of, +all you've got to do is to fly down there and see it." + +"When you get up higher and sit down," said Tom, "what do you sit on?" + +"You sit on me and I sit on my hind legs, of course," said Lefthandiron. +"Don't you know anything?" + +"Of course I do," said Tom, indignantly. "I know lots of things." + +"Then I can't see why you ask such silly questions," retorted the +Lefthandiron. "What do we sit on? Why, you might just as well ask a dog +what he barks with, or a lion what he eats his breakfast with--and that +would be as stupid as the Poker's poem on Sandwiches." + +"Did the Poker write a poem on Sandwiches?" asked Tom. + +"Eight of 'em," returned the Lefthandiron. "The first of them went this +way: + + "He sat upon a lofty hill, + And smoked his penny pipe. + 'Ha!' quoth a passing whip-poor-will, + 'The oranges are ripe.'" + +"The other seven went like this," observed the Righthandiron: + + "The day was over, and the six- + Teen little darkies then + Found they were in a dreadful fix, + Like several other men." + +"There isn't anything about Sandwiches in those poems," said Tom, with a +look of perplexity on his face. + +"No. That's where the stupidity of it comes in. He wrote those poems and +called 'em all Sandwiches just to be stupid, and it was stupid." + +"But what did he want to be stupid for?" asked Tom. + +"Just his vanity, that's all," said the Righthandiron. "The Poker is a +very vain person. He thinks he is superior to everybody else in +everything. If you say to him, 'the gas fixture is bright tonight,' he'll +say, 'Oh, yes--but I'm brighter.' Somebody told him once that the kindling +wood that started the fires was stupid, and he wouldn't even stop his +bragging then. 'Oh, yes,' he said, 'but I'm a great deal stupider than the +kindling wood and I'll prove it.' So he sat down and wrote those verses +and called 'em all Sandwiches, and everybody agreed that he was the +stupidest person going." + +"You only told me two of 'em," said Tom. + +"No--the whole eight were there. To make it more stupid the Poker said +that the first one was number five and the second was the other seven." + +Tom smiled broadly at this and made up his mind to cultivate the +acquaintance of the Poker. He was boy enough to like stupidity of that +sort because it made him laugh. + +"I'd like to meet the Poker," he said. "He must be lots of fun." + +"He is," said the Lefthandiron. "Tenacre lots of fun. You'll meet him soon +enough because we shall join him shortly. We never go off on any of our +trips without him. He is a great help sometimes when we get into trouble +just because he has so many sides. If we fall into a pit through some +misstep the Poker comes along and pries us out of it. If we fall into the +hands of some horrible creature that wants to hurt us, the Poker talks to +that creature as stupid as he knows how, which makes the other so drowsy +that he can't possibly keep awake, and then, of course, we escape." + +"There he is now," cried the Righthandiron, putting his right forepaw up +to his ear and listening attentively. "I can hear him singing, can't you?" + +The Lefthandiron stopped short and Tom strained his ears to hear the +Poker's song. For a moment he could hear nothing, but then a slight +buzzing sound like the hum of a bee, came to his ears and in another +minute he could distinguish the words of the song. It was a song showing +that the singer was one of those favored beings who are satisfied with +what the world has given them--as you will see for yourself when you hear +it. These are the words as they came to Tom's ears, sung to a soft little +air which the Poker made up as he went along, thereby showing that he was +a musician as well as a Poker: + + "Oh, I am a Poker bold and free, + And I poke the livelong day. + I love the land and I hate the sea, + But the sky and the clouds are there for me. + + I dote on the Milky Way. + The clouds are as soft as a fleecy rug, + And as cool as cool can be. + The skies fit into my figure snug, + And they make me feel so blithe and smug + That I am glad Fate made me Me. + Oh Me! + Ah Me! + 'Tis a lovely fate + And a mission great + To be + Like me + And to love the skies, + And the clouds to prize, + And to hate the turbulent sea, + He--he-- + So I lift my voice + And I loud rejoice + That the Fates have made me Me." + +"Hullo!" cried the Righthandiron. + +"Halloa!" called the Lefthandiron. + +"That's not my name," came the voice of the Poker from behind a cloud just +above Tom's head. "But I know who you mean, so I answer Halloa yourself." + +"Where are you?" cried Lefty. + +"Here," called the Poker. + +"No, you're not," called Righty. "You're there. We are here." + +"Well, that's neither here nor there," retorted the Poker, poking his head +out through the cloud. "Hullo! Who have you got there? That isn't Tom, is +it?" + +"No--it's Sleepyhead D. Dormouse," laughed Lefty. + +"Good," said the Poker, advancing and shaking Tom by the hand. "I was +afraid it was Tom. Not that I dislike Tom, for I don't. I think he is one +of the nicest boys I know--but he weighs a good fifty-seven pounds, and so +far we haven't been able to get a cloud strong enough to support more than +fifty-six. If Tom were to come up here and sit on a cloud he'd fall +through, and if he fell through, you know what would happen." + +"No, I don't," said Tom, to whom the Poker's remarks were addressed. "What +would happen?" + +"Well, in the first place, it would spoil the cloud, and in the second +place, if he tumbled into the sea he'd have to swim ashore," said the +Poker, sagely. "That's why I am glad you're young Mr. Dormouse, and not +Tom. Dormice can sit on the flimsiest clouds we have and not break +through." + +"What is a Dormouse anyhow?" asked Tom, to whom it now occurred for the +first time that he had never seen a Dormouse. + +"Ho!" jeered Righty, as Tom asked the question. "The idea of not knowing +what a Dormouse is!" + +"He's a mouse with a door to him, of course," said Lefty. + +"Which he keeps closed," said the Poker, "so that he will not be disturbed +while he is asleep." + +Tom tried to imagine what a creature of that sort looked like, but he +found it difficult. Not liking to appear stupid he accepted the +explanation. + +"Oh!" he said. "It must be a very pretty animal." + +"Oh, yes!" said the Poker. "But he isn't as pretty as I can be when I +try. My, how pretty I can be--but say, Andies, where are we bound this +trip?" + +"We've left that to Sleepyhead to decide," said Lefty. + +"In the usual way of course?" queried the Poker. + +"Oh, yes! He can't decide except as we want him to and have it go as a +real decision. We've given him his choice of watching the world go round, +going to Saturn or taking the long jump." + +[Illustration: "A MOUSE WITH A DOOR TO HIM."] + +"And which will it be, Dormy?" asked the Poker. + +"I sort of think I'd like to sit up here and watch the world go round," +said Tom. + +"Nope," said Righty. + +"Then let's go to Saturn," suggested Tom. + +"Oh, no!" said Righty. "Not that." + +"Then there's only one thing left," said Tom, with a sigh, "and that's the +long jump--whatever that is." + +Tom's three companions roared with laughter. + +"Absurd!" cried Righty. "The idea. The long jump the only thing left! Ha, +ha, ha!" + +"Perfect nonsense," laughed Lefty. "I never thought Dozy Pate could be so +dull." + +"Well, he isn't anything like as dull as I can be when I try," said the +Poker. "He's pretty dull, though." + +"I don't see where the joke comes in," snapped Tom, who did not at all +like the way the Andirons and the Poker were behaving. "If there are only +three things we can do and you won't do two of them there's only one +left." + +"Ha, ha, ha!" roared Lefty. + +"Poor dull Dormouse," said Righty, with a smile that was half of mirth and +half sympathy. + +"You are evidently a Dormouse with very little education, Dormy," said the +Poker. "If there are three apples on a plate, one red, one green and one +white and you are told to take your pick of the lot there are four things +you can do, not three." + +"What are they?" asked Tom, meekly. + +[Illustration: "There's no better place than this cloud."] + +"You can take a red one, a white one, a green one, or all three. See?" + +"Oh, yes!" said Tom, beginning to smile again. "I see. You don't want me +to choose watching the earth go round, or going to Saturn, or taking the +long jump, but you do want me to choose all three." + +"Now you are talking sense," said Righty. "And sense is what we are +after." + +"That's it," said the Poker. "Now what do you choose, Dormy?" + +"All three!" roared Tom. + +"The Dormouse is getting his eyes open," said Lefty. + +"Which is very proper," put in Righty, "for there is a great deal for him +to see." + +"Not so much as there is for me to see," said the Poker. "My, what a lot +there is for me to see!" + +"The first thing for us to do," said Lefty, paying no attention to the +Poker's words, "is to get a good place for us to sit, so that Sleepyhead +can see the world." + +"There's no better place than this cloud," said the Poker. "I've sat here +many a time and studied China by the hour." + +"It's a little too far away for Sleepyhead," said Lefty. "Dormy mustn't be +allowed to strain his eyes." + +"Never thought of that," said the Poker. "Of course, I can see a great +deal farther than he can. My, how far I can see! What's the matter with +our pushing the cloud in a little nearer?" + +"Nothing--if we can do it," said Righty. "But can we?" + +"We can 'wink our eye and try,' as the poet says," returned the Poker. +"Ever heard that poem, Dormy?" + +"No," returned Tom. "That is, not that I know of. I've heard lots of +poetry in my life, but it goes in one ear and out of the other." + +"You must have a queer head," said the Poker, peering into Tom's ear. "How +a poem poured into one ear can go out of the other I can't understand. +There doesn't seem to be any opening there." + +[Illustration: "In one ear and out of the other."] + +"His head isn't solid like ours," said Lefty. "It's too bad to be +afflicted the way he is. He ought to do the way a boy I knew once did. He +suffered just as Dormy does. You'd tell him a thing in his left ear and +the first thing you'd know, pop! it would all come out of the other ear +and be lost. The poor fellow was growing up to be an ignoramus. Couldn't +keep a thing in his head, until one night I overheard his father and +mother talking about it in the library. The boy's father wanted to punish +him for not remembering what he learned at school, when his mother said +just what Dormy here said, that everything went in one ear and out of the +other. Then they both looked sad, and the mother rubbed her eyes until +the tears came. I couldn't stand that. If there's one thing in the world +I can't stand it's other people's sorrows. Mine don't amount to much, but +other people's do sometimes. I felt so bad for the poor parents that I +racked and racked my brains trying to think of some way to cure the boy. +It took me a week, but I got it at last and the next time the boy's +parents talked about it I took the matter in hand. I simply walked out of +the fireplace where I was and said, 'I hope you will excuse the +interference of an Andiron, ma'am, but I think your boy can be cured of +his ear trouble.' 'Noble fellow,' said the father, after he had got over +his surprise at my unusual behavior. 'What do you suggest?' + +"'Put a cork in his other ear,' said I. + +"And they did, and from that time on the boy never lost a bit of +information any one gave him. He grew up to be a dreadfully wise man and +when he finally died he was known as the human N. Cyclopedia." + +"That was a noble act of yours," said the Poker. "Did you have the idea +patented?" + +"No," said the Andiron. "I wanted to, but the patent rules require that a +working model should be sent with the request for a patent for the patent +office to keep, which of course I couldn't do." + +"Why not?" asked Tom. + +"I couldn't get a boy who would consent to spend his life in the showcase. +I could get all the corks I wanted, but no boy, and so I had to give it +up," replied Lefty, with a sigh. "I'd have been a rich Andiron today if I +could have had that idea patented. I shouldn't be surprised if I'd have +had enough to have Righty and the Poker and myself goldplated." + +"Oh, well, I wouldn't feel bad about that," said the Poker. "What's the +use? You're bright as any gold that ever shined and you are quite as +useful. Gold may be worth more than you are, but what of it? The people +who bought you are willing to change their gold for you, so that really +puts you ahead. As for myself I wouldn't be gold if I could. Gold Pokers +aren't worth anything as Pokers, and what's more, if I were gold Tom's +father would lock me up in the safe every night and then I couldn't travel +about the way I do." + +"Never thought of it in that light," said Lefty. "I'm glad I'm brass, +after all." + +"But you were going to tell us a poem, weren't you?" asked Tom. + +"Yes," said the Poker. "It's a simple little verse, but there is a good +deal of fine advice in it. All it says is: + + "If you're in doubt if you can do + A thing some one has asked you to, + Don't sit you down and moan and cry + Because you can't, but wink your eye + And try." + +"There's good advice enough for a lifetime in that, Dormy," said the +Righthandiron. "And now let's see if we can move the cloud." + +The four little creatures set out at once to push the cloud nearer to the +earth so that Tom could see the latter going around more clearly, but +their efforts were in vain. The cloud wouldn't budge an inch. + +"No use," said the Poker, panting with his exertion. "There is only one +thing to do now and that is to send for the Bellows. If he'll come and +blow in his usual style we'll have that cloud where we want it in less +than no time. I'd blow it there myself, for I am a far better blower than +the Bellows is--my, how I can blow! But I'm out of breath trying to push +the cloud." + +"I'll run back and get the Bellows," said Lefty. + +"And I'll go with you," said Righty. "He may not come for one, but I'm +sure he will for two." + +"All right," said the Poker. "Dormy and I will wait here for you; and I'll +tell him a story while you're gone. How will that suit you Dormy?" + +"First rate," said Tom. "I like stories." + +"We'll be back soon," said the Righthandiron, as he and the other started +back after the Bellows. "So make your story short." + +"Very good," returned the Poker amiably. "I'll make it so short that Dormy +will hardly know that it was ever begun." + +And so Tom was left sitting on a big cloud way up in the sky with the +Poker--which was indeed a very novel position for a small boy like him to +be in. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +The Poker Tells His Story + + +"I suppose," said the Poker, after the Andirons had passed out of hearing +distance, "I suppose you think it a very extraordinary thing that I, who +am nothing but a Poker, should be satisfied with my lot. Eh?" + +"Oh, I don't know," said Tom, snuggling down on the cloud which he found +to be deliciously soft and comfortable. "If you were a Poker who could +only poke it might seem queer. But you can talk and sing and travel about. +You don't have to do any work in summer time, and in winter you have a +nice warm spot to stay in all the day long. I don't think it's very +strange." + +"But I'm not different from any other Poker," said Tom's companion, "They +all do pretty much what I do except that most of them are always growling +at their hard lot, while I do very little but sing and rejoice that I am +what I am, and the story I was going to tell you was how I came to be so +well satisfied to be a Poker. Would you like to have me do that, Dormy?" + +"Yes," said Tom. "Very much. Were you always a Poker?" + +"Not I," said the Poker, with a shake of his head. "I've been a Poker only +two years. Before that I had been a little of everything. What do you +suppose I began life as?" + +"A railroad track," said Tom, bound to have a guess at the right answer, +though he really hadn't the slightest notion that he was correct. + +[Illustration: "A POKER WHO COULD ONLY POKE."] + +"You came pretty near it," said the Poker, with a smile. "I began life as +a boy." + +"I don't see how a boy is pretty near a railroad track," said Tom. + +"The boy I began life as lived right next door to a railroad," explained +the Poker. "See now?" + +"Yes," said Tom. "But why didn't you stay a boy?" + +"Because I wasn't contented," said the Poker, with a sigh. "I ought to +have been, though. I had everything in the world that a boy could want. My +parents were as good to me as they could possibly be. I had all the toys I +wanted. All I could eat--plenty of pudding and other good things as often +as they were to be had. I had two little sisters, who used to do +everything in the world for me. Plenty of boy friends to play with, and, +as I said before, a railroad right next door--and oh, the trains, and +trains, and trains I used to see! It was great fun. I can see, now that I +look back on it, and yet I never was satisfied. I used to cry my eyes out +sometimes because I hadn't wings like a bird, so that I could fly. At +other times I'd get discontented that I couldn't run as fast as a dog--I +never went to bed without feeling envious of somebody or something. + +"Finally one night I'd gone to bed feeling particularly unhappy because a +big eagle I had seen flying about in the sky could do things I couldn't. +My nurse, thinking I had fallen asleep, went out of the night nursery and +left me alone. Just as she went out of one door the other door opened and +a very beautiful lady came in. + +"'Is that you, mama?' I asked. + +"'No,' said she. 'I am not your mother. I am a Fairy.' + +"I had been crying pretty hard, I can tell you," said the Poker, with a +shake of his head, "but as soon as I heard the lady say she was a Fairy my +tears dried up as quick as lightning. + +[Illustration: "I am not your mother; I am a fairy."] + +"'I am a Fairy,' she repeated, coming to the side of my little bed and +stroking my forehead kindly. 'My duty is to seek out one discontented +person each year and see if I can't do something to help him. I have come +to help you if I can. Don't you like being a boy?' + +"'Not very much,' said I. 'It's awfully hard work. I have to go to school +every day and learn lots of things I don't care to know about, and most of +the time I'm kept in an hour or two just because I can't remember how much +seven times two are, or whether c-a-t spells dog or horse, and I don't +like it.' + +"'But you are strong and well. Your father and mother are very good to you +and you have more good times than unhappy ones, don't you?' + +[Illustration: "DOESN'T HAVE TO LIVE IN A BATHTUB."] + +"'I never counted,' said I. 'I don't believe I do, though. I'm strong and +well, but so is that eagle I saw today, and he can fly, and I can't. Then +there's my little dog--he's as well as can be, and my father and mother +are kind to him just as they are kind to me. He doesn't have to bother +with school. He's allowed to go anywhere he wants to, and never gets +scolded for it. Besides, he doesn't have to be dressed up all the time and +live in a bathtub the way I do.' + +"'Then you think you would be happier as Rollo than you are as yourself?' +said she. + +"'Very much,' said I. + +"'Then it shall be so,' said she. 'Good-by!' + +"She went out as quietly as she had come, and I turned over and after +thinking over what she had said I fell asleep. Then the queerest thing +happened. I slept right through until the morning, dreaming the strangest +dream you ever heard of. I dreamed that I had been changed into Rollo--and +oh, the fun I had! Life was nothing but play and liberty, and then I +waked. I tried to call my father and tell him I was ready for the morning +story, but what do you suppose I did instead?" + +"Give it up," said Tom. "What?" + +"I barked," said the Poker, "and when I barked I looked down at my feet. +Sure enough I was Rollo, and Rollo was I lying asleep in my bed. I was on +the floor at the foot of the bed. Then the nurse came in and slapped me +for barking and I had the pleasure of being sent down stairs to the +cellar, while Rollo himself, who had been changed into me went into my +father's room and got the story." + +"Mercy!" said Tom. "I guess you were sorry about that." + +"I was, a little," said the Poker. "But after I had been down in the +cellar an hour or two I saw a beautiful piece of steak in the ice-box and +I ate it all up. It wasn't cooked at all, but being a little dog I liked +it all the better for that. Then I drank up a panful of milk and had a +lovely time teasing the cat, until the cook came down, when my troubles +began. I never knew when I was a boy that Rollo had troubles, but I found +out that day that he had. The cook gave me a terrible whipping because I +had eaten the steak, and I had hardly recovered from that when Rollo, who +was now what I had been, took me up into the nursery and played with me +just as I had always played with him. He held me up by the tail; he +flicked me with his handkerchief; he harnessed me up to a small cart and +made me drag his sisters' doll babies about the room for one whole hour, +and then when lunch time came the waitress forgot me and I had to go +hungry all the afternoon. Every time I'd try to go into the kitchen the +cook would drive me out with a stick for fear I would eat the other things +in the cellar--and oh, dear, I had a miserable time of it. + +"The worst of it came two or three days later," continued the Poker. "It +was Rollo's bath day, and as I was Rollo of course I had to take Rollo's +bath, and my, wasn't it awful! I'd rather take a hundred such baths as I +had when I was a boy than one like Rollo's. The soap got into my eyes and +I couldn't say a word. Then it got into my mouth, and bah! how fearful it +was. After that I was grabbed by all four of my legs and soused into the +water until I thought I should drown, and rubbed until my fur nearly came +off. + +"I wished then that I had asked the Fairy to leave her address so that I +could send for her and have her come back and let me be a boy again. All +the fun of being Rollo was spoiled by the woes that were his to bear--woes +I had never dreamed of his having until I took his place. + +"I must have been Rollo a month when the Fairy came back one night to see +how I was getting along. Rollo lay asleep in my crib, while I was curled +up in a dog basket at the foot of it. + +"'Well,' said the Fairy as she entered the room, 'how do you both do?' + +"'I like it first-rate,' said Rollo. 'Being a boy is ever so much nicer +than being a dog.' + +"'I think so, too," said I. 'And if you don't mind I'd like to be a boy +again.' + +"'What boy do you want to be?' she asked. + +"'What boy?' said I. 'Why, myself, of course. Who else?' + +"'What has Rollo to say about that?' said the Fairy, turning to him--and I +tell you, Dormy, it made my heart sick to hear that Rollo had anything to +say about it, for there couldn't be much doubt as to how he would +decide." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +The Poker Concludes His Story + + +"It was just as I feared," said the Poker. "Rollo knew a good thing when +he had it." + +"'I'm satisfied, the way things are now,' said he. 'I wouldn't change back +and be a Scotch terrier for all the world.' + +"Then the Fairy turned to me and said, 'I'm sorry, my dear, but if Rollo +won't consent to the change you'll have to be contented to remain as you +are--unless you'd like to try being an eagle for a while.' + +"'I'll never consent,' said Rollo, selfishly, though I couldn't really +blame him for it. + +"'Then make me an eagle,' I said. 'Make me anything but what I am.' + +"'Very well,' said the Fairy. 'Good-night.' + +"Next morning," continued the Poker, "when I waked up I was cold and +stiff, and when I opened my eyes to look about me I found myself seated on +a great ledge of rock on the side of a mountain. Far below me were tops of +the trees in a forest I never remembered to have seen before, while above +me a hard black wall of rock rose straight up for a thousand feet. To +climb upward was impossible; to climb down, equally so. + +"'What on earth does this mean?' thought I; and then, in attempting to +walk, I found that I had but two legs, where the night before I had fallen +asleep with four. + +"'Am I a boy again?' I cried with delight. + +"'No,' said a voice from way below me in the trees. 'You are now an eagle +and I hope you will be happy.' + +"You never were an eagle, were you, Dormy?" said the Poker, gazing +earnestly into Tom's face. + +"No," said Tom, "never. I've never been any kind of bird." + +[Illustration: "EAGLES NEVER HAVE UMBRELLAS."] + +"Well, don't you ever be one," said the Poker, with a knowing shake of the +head. "It's all very beautiful to think about, but being an eagle is +entirely different from what thinking about it is. I was that eagle for +one whole month, and the life of a Scotch terrier is bliss alongside of +it. In the first place it was fight, fight, fight for food. It was lots of +fun at first jumping off the crag down a thousand feet into the valley, +but flying back there to get out of the way of the huntsmen was worse than +pulling a sled with rusty runners up a hill a mile long. Then, when storms +came up I had to sit up there on that mountain side and take 'em all as +they came. I hadn't any umbrella--eagles never have--to keep off the +rain; and no walls except on one side, to keep off the wind, and no +shutters to close up so that I couldn't see the lightning. It was +terrible. All I got to eat in the whole month was a small goat and a +chicken hawk, and those I had to swallow wool, feathers and all. Then I +got into fights with other eagles, and finally while I was looking for +lunch in the forest I fell into a trap and was caught by some men who put +me in a cage so that people could come to see me." + +"Ever been shut up in a cage?" queried the Poker at this point. + +"No," said Tom, "only in a dark closet." + +"Never had to stay shut up, though, more than ten minutes, did you?" + +"No," answered Tom, "never." + +"Well, think of me cooped up in an old cage for two weeks!" said the +Poker. "That was woe enough for a lifetime, but it wasn't half what I had +altogether. The other creatures in the Zoo growled and shrieked all night +long; none of us ever got a quarter enough to eat, and several times the +monkey in the cage next to me would reach his long arm into my prison and +yank out half a dozen of my feathers at once. In fact, I had nothing but +mishaps all the time. As the poet says: + + "Talk about your troubles, + Talk about your woes, + Yours are only bubbles, + Sir, compared with those. + +"At the end of two weeks I was nearly frantic. I don't think I could have +stood it another week--but fortunately at the end of the month back came +the Fairy again. + +"'How do you like being an eagle?' she said. + +"'I'd rather be a tree rooted to the ground in the midst of a dense forest +than all the eagles in the world,' said I. + +"'Very well,' said she. 'It shall be so. Good-night.' + +"In the morning I was a tree--and if there is anything worse than being a +dog or an eagle it's being a tree," said the Poker. "I could hear +processions going by with fine bands of music in the distance, but I +couldn't stir a step to see them. Boys would come along and climb up into +my branches and shake me nearly to pieces. Cows came and chewed up my +leaves, and one day the wood-cutters came and were just about to cut me +down when the Fairy appeared again and sent them away. + +"'They will be back again tomorrow,' she said. 'Do you wish to remain a +tree?' + +"'No, no, no,' I cried. 'I'll be content to be anything you choose if you +will save me from them.' + +"'There,' she said. 'That's the point. If you will keep that promise you +will finally be happy. If you will only look on the bright side of things, +remembering the pleasant and forgetting the unpleasant, you will be happy. +If you will be satisfied with what you are and have and not go about +swelling up with envy whenever you see anyone or anything that has or can +do things that you have not or cannot do, you will be happy in spite of +yourself. Will you promise me this?' + +"'Indeed I will,' I said. + +"'Even if I change you into so poor a thing as a Poker?' + +"'Yes,' said I. + +[Illustration: "ONE DAY THE WOODCUTTERS CAME."] + +"'Very well,' said she. 'It shall be so. Good-night.' + +"Next morning I waked up to find myself as you see--nothing more than a +Poker, but contented to be one. I have kept my promise with the Fairy, and +I am simply the happiest thing in the world. I don't sit down and groan +because I have to poke the fire. On the contrary, when I am doing that I'm +always thinking how nice it will be when I get done and I lean up against +the rack and gaze on all the beautiful things in the room. I always think +about the pleasant things, and if you don't know it, Dormy, let me tell +you that that's the way to be happy and to make others happy. Sometimes +people think me vain. The Fender told me one night I was the vainest +creature he ever knew. I'm not really so. I only will not admit that there +is anything or anybody in the world who is more favored than I am. That is +all. If I didn't do that I might sometime grow a little envious in spite +of myself. As it is I never do and haven't had an unhappy hour since I +became a contented Poker." + +Tom was silent for a few minutes after the Poker had completed his story, +and then he said: + +"Don't you sometimes feel unhappy because you are not the boy you used to +be?" + +"No," said the Poker. "I am not because Rollo makes a better boy than I +was. He is a contented boy and I was not." + +"But don't you miss your father and mother?" queried Tom. + +"Of course not," said the Poker, "because the Fairy was good enough to +have me made into the Poker used in their new house. My parents moved away +from the railroad just after Rollo became me, and built themselves a new +house, and of course they had to have a new Poker to go with it--so I +really live home, you see, with them." + +A curious light came into Tom's eyes. + +"Mr. Poker," said he. "Who was this boy you used to be?" + +"Tom," said the Poker. + +"I'm not Rollo," roared Tom, starting up. + +"Nobody said you were," retorted the Poker. "You are Dormy. Tom is +Rollo--but, I say, here come the Andirons and the Bellows." + +Tom looked down from the cloud, and sure enough the three were coming up +as fast as the wind, and in the excitement of the moment the little +traveler forgot all about the Poker's story, in which he seemed himself to +have figured without knowing it. + +[Illustration: "SO I REALLY LIVE HOME."] + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The Literary Bellows + + +"What kept you so long?" asked the Poker, as the Andiron and Bellows came +up. "Was our friend Bellows out of breath, or what?" + +"No, I wasn't out of breath," said the Bellows. "I never am out of breath. +You might as well expect a groceryman to be out of groceries as a bellows +to be out of breath. I wasn't long, either--at least, no longer than +usual, which is two foot three. A longer bellows than that would be +useless for our purpose. I simply didn't want to come, that's all. I was +very busy writing when they interrupted me." + +"It was very kind of you to come when you didn't want to," said Tom. + +"No, it wasn't," said the Bellows. "I didn't want to come then, I don't +want to be here now, and I wouldn't blow the cloud an inch for you if I +didn't have to." + +"But why do you have to?" asked Tom. + +"I'm outvoted, that's all," replied the Bellows. "You see, my dear +Weasel"-- + +"Dormouse," whispered the Poker. + +"I mean Dormouse," said the Bellows, correcting himself. "You see, I +believe in everybody having a say in regard to everything. I always have +everything I can put to a vote. Consequently, when Righty here came down +and asked me to help blow the cloud over and I said that I wouldn't do it +he called Lefty in, and we put it to a vote as to whether I'd have to or +not. They voted that I must and I voted that I needn't, and, of course, +that beat me; so here I am." + +"Well, it's very good of you, just the same," said the Poker. "You aren't +quite as good-natured as I am, but you come pretty near it. Most people +would have left a matter of that kind entirely to themselves and then +voted the way they felt like voting. You aren't selfish, anyhow." + +"Yes, I am," said the Bellows. "I'm awfully selfish." + +"You're not, either," said the Poker. + +"Oh, goodness!" ejaculated the Bellows. "What's the use of fighting? I say +I am." + +[Illustration: "WHAT'S THE USE OF FIGHTING?"] + +"Let's have a vote on it," said Righty. "I vote he isn't." + +"So do I," said Tom. + +"Me, too," said Lefty. + +"Those are my sentiments likewise," put in the Poker. + +"Oh, very well, then, I'm not," said the Bellows, with a deep drawn sigh; +"but I do wish you'd let me have my own way about some things. I want to +be selfish, even if I'm not." + +"Well, we are very sorry," said the Poker, "but we can't let you be; we +need you too much to permit you to be selfish. Besides, you're too good a +fellow to be selfish. I knew a boy who was selfish once, and he got into +all sorts of trouble. Nobody liked him, and once when he gave a big dinner +to a lot of other boys not one of them would come, and he had to eat all +the dinner himself. The result was that he overate himself, ruined his +digestion, and all the rest of his life had to do without pies and cake +and other good things. It served him right, too. Do you think we are going +to let you be like that, Mr. Bellows?" + +"I suppose not," said the Bellows, "but stories about selfish boys don't +frighten me. I'm a bellows, not a boy. I don't give dinners and I don't +eat pie and cake. Plain air is good enough for me, and I wouldn't give a +cent for all the other good eatables in the world except doughnuts. I like +doughnuts because, after all, they are only bellows cakes. But come, let's +hurry up with the cloud. I want to get back to my desk. I have a poem to +finish before breakfast." + +This statement interested Tom hugely. He had read many a book, but never +before had he met a real author, and even if the Bellows had been a man, +so long as he was a writer, Tom would have looked upon him with awe. + +"Excuse me," he said hesitatingly, as the Bellows began to wheeze away at +the cloud, "do you really write?" + +[Illustration: "I blow a story or two, now and then."] + +"Well, no," said the Bellows. "No, I don't write, but I blow a story or +two now and then. You see, I can't write because I haven't any hands, but +I can wheeze out a tale to a stenographer once in a while which any +magazine would be glad to publish if it could get hold of it. One of my +stories called Sparks blew into a powder magazine once and it made a +tremendous noise in the world when it came out." + +"I wish you would tell me one," said Tom. + +"Are you a stenographer?" asked the Bellows. + +"No," said Tom, "but I like stories just the same." + +"Well," said the Bellows, "I'll tell you one about Jimmie Tompkins and the +red apple." + +"Hurrah!" cried Tom. "I love red apples." + +"So did Jimmie Tompkins," said the Bellows, "and that's why he died. He +ate a red apple while it was green and it killed him." + +There was a pause for an instant, and the Bellows redoubled his efforts to +move the cloud, which for some reason or other did not stir easily. + +"Go ahead," said Tom, when he thought he had waited long enough for the +Bellows to resume. + +"What on?" asked the Bellows. + +"On your story about Jimmie Tompkins and the red apple," Tom answered. + +"Why, I've told you that story," retorted the Bellows. "Jimmie ate the red +apple and died. What more do you want? That's all there is to it." + +"It isn't a very long story," suggested Tom, ruefully, for he was much +disappointed. + +"Well, why should it be?" demanded the Bellows. "A story doesn't have to +be long to be good, and as long as it is all there--" + +"I know," said Tom; "but in most stories there's a lot of things put in +that help to make it interesting." + +"All padding!" sneered the Bellows, "and that I will never do. If a story +can be told in five words what's the use of padding it out to five +thousand?" + +"None," said Tom, "except that you can't make a book out of a story of +five words." + +"Oh, yes, you can," said the Bellows, airily. "It isn't any trouble at all +if you only know how, and in the end you have a much more useful book than +if you made it a million words long. You can print the five words on the +first page and leave the other five hundred pages blank, so that after you +get through with the volume as a story book you can use it for a blank +book or a diary. Most books nowadays are so full of story that when you +get through with them there isn't anything else you can do with the book." + +"It's a new idea," said Tom, with a laugh. + +"And all my own invention, too," said the Bellows proudly. + +"He's the most inventive Bellows that ever was," put in the Poker, "that +is, in a literary way. How many copies of your book of 'Unwritten Poems' +did you sell, Wheezy?" he added. + +"Eight million," returned the Bellows. "That was probably my greatest +literary achievement." + +"'Unwritten Poems,' eh?" said Tom, to whom the title seemed curious. + +"Yes," said the Bellows. "The book had three hundred pages, all nicely +bound--twenty-six lines to a page--and each beginning with a capital +letter, just as poetry should. Then, so as to be quite fair to all the +letters, I began with A and went right straight through the alphabet to +Z." + +"But the poems?" demanded Tom. + +"They were unwritten just as the title said," returned the Bellows. "You +see that left everything to the imagination, which is a great thing in +poetry." + +"Didn't people complain?" Tom asked. + +"Everybody did," replied the Bellows, "but that was just what I wanted. I +agreed to answer every complaint accompanied by ten cents in postage +stamps. Eight million complaints alone brought me in $480,000 over and +above all expenses, which were four cents per complaint." + +"But what was your answer?" demanded Tom. + +"I merely told them that my book stood upon its own merits, and that if +they didn't like my unwritten poems they could write some of their own on +the blank pages of the book. It was a perfectly fair proposition," the +Bellows replied. + +"I think I like written poetry best, though," said Tom. + +"That's entirely a matter of taste," said the Bellows, "and I shan't find +fault with you for that. The only thing is that Unwritten Poems are apt to +have fewer faults than the written ones, and every great poet will tell +you that nobody ever detected any mistakes in his poems until he had put +them down on paper. If he had left them unwritten nobody would ever have +known how bad they were." + +Tom scratched his head in a puzzled mood. He could not quite grasp the +Bellows' meaning. + +"What do you think about it, Righty?" he demanded of the Andiron. + +"Oh, I don't think anything about it," replied Righty. "I haven't watched +poetry much. You see, Lefty and I don't see much of it. People light fires +nowadays more with newspapers than with poetry." + +"What I've seen burns well," observed the Lefthandiron, "and don't make +much ashes to get into your eyes; but, say, Wheezy, if you'll do your +blowing about this cloud rather than about your poetry we may get +somewhere." + +"Very well," said the Bellows; "fasten your hats on tight and turn up your +collars. I'm going to give you a regular tornado." + +And he was as good as his word, for, expanding himself to the utmost +limit, he gave a tremendous wheeze, which nearly blew Tom from his perch, +sent his cap flying off into space and smashed the cloud into four +separate pieces, one of which, bearing the Poker, floated rapidly off to +the north, while the other three sped south, east and west, respectively. + +[Illustration: "HE GAVE A TREMENDOUS WHEEZE."] + +"Hi, there," cried Righty, as he perceived the damage done to their fleecy +chariot. "What are you up to? We don't want to be blown to the four +corners of the earth. Pull in--pull in, for goodness sake, or we'll never +get together again!" + +"There's no satisfying you fellows," growled the Bellows. "First I don't +blow enough, and then I blow too much." + +"Stop growling and haul us back again!" cried the Poker. + +The Bellows began to haul in his breath rapidly, and by a process of +suction soon had the four parts of the burst cloud back together once +more. + +"By jingo!" panted Lefty. "That was a narrow escape. Two seconds more and +this party would have been a goner. Even as it is, you've twisted my neck +so I'll never get it back in shape again," said the Righthandiron. + +"Well, I'm sorry," said the Bellows, "but it's all your own fault. You +asked me to blow the cloud, and I blew it. You didn't say where you wanted +it blown." + +"You needn't have blown it to smithereens, just the same!" retorted the +Poker. "It doesn't cost anything to ask a question now and then." + +"Where, then?" demanded the Bellows. + +"I'd like to find my hat," said Tom. + +"Very well," said the Bellows. "I see it speeding off toward the moon, and +we'll chase after it, but we'll never catch it if it misses the moon and +falls past it into space." + +The Poker rose to his full height and peered after the cap, which, even as +the Bellows had said, was sailing rapidly off in the direction of the +crescent moon, which lay to the west and below them. + +"Hurrah!" he cried. "It's all right." + +"Can you see it still?" asked Tom, anxiously, for his cap was made of +sealskin and he didn't wish to lose it. + +"Yes, it's all right," said the Poker. "It nearly missed, but not quite. +If you will look through these glasses you will see it." + +The Poker handed Tom a pair of strong field glasses and the lad, gazing +anxiously through them, was delighted to see his wandering cap hanging, as +if on a great golden hook in the sky beneath them, and which was nothing +more than the last appearance of the moon itself. + +"Good!" cried the Righthandiron. "That settles the question for us of +where we shall go next. There is no choice left. We'll go to the moon. +Heave ahead, Wheezy." + +Whereupon the Bellows began to blow, at first gently, then stronger and +stronger, and yet more strongly still, until the cloud was moving rapidly +in the direction they desired. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +They Reach the Crescent Moon + + +As the jolly party sped along through the heavens Tom began to find his +eyes bothering him a trifle. Brilliant as many of the sunshiny days had +been at home, particularly when the snow was on the ground, nothing so +dazzlingly bright as this great golden arc in the sky was getting to be, +as they approached closer, had ever greeted his sight. + +"It's blinding!" he cried, his eyes blinking and filling with water as he +gazed upon the scene. "I can't stand it. What shall I do, Lefty?" + +"Turn your head around and approach it backward," said Lefty. "Then you +won't see it." + +"But I want to see it," retorted Tom. "What's the use of visiting the moon +if you can't see it?" + +"Reminds me of a poem I wrote once," put in the Poker. "'What's the Use?' +was one of my masterpieces, and maybe if I recite it to you it will help +your eyes." + +"Bosh!" growled the Bellows, who was beginning to get a little +short-winded with his labors, and, therefore, a trifle out of temper. "How +on earth will reciting your poem help Tom's eyes?" + +"Easy enough," returned the Poker haughtily and with a contemptuous glance +at the Bellows. "My poem is so much brighter than the moon that the moon +will seem dull alongside of it." + +"Go ahead anyhow," said Tom, interested at once and forgetting his eyes +for the moment. "Give us the poem." + +"Here goes, then," said the Poker, with a low bow and then, standing +erect, he began. "It's called + + WHAT'S THE USE. + + What's the use of circuses that haven't any beasts? + What's the use of restaurants that haven't any feasts? + + What's the use of oranges that haven't any peels? + What's the use of bicycles that haven't any wheels? + + What's the use of railway trains that have no place to go? + What's the use of going to war if you haven't any foe? + + What's the use of splendid views for those that cannot see? + What's the use of freedom's flag to folks that aren't free? + + What's the use of legs to those who have no wish to walk? + What's the use of languages to those who cannot talk? + + What's the use of kings and queens that haven't any throne? + What's the use of having pains unless you're going to groan? + + What's the use of anything, however grand and good, + That doesn't ever, ever work the way it really should?" + +"Humph!" panted the Bellows, "you don't call that bright, do you?" + +"I do, indeed," said the Poker. "And I call it bright because I know it's +bright. It is so bright that not a magazine in all the world dare print +it, because they'd never be able to do as well again, and people would say +the magazine wasn't as good as it used to be." + +"What nonsense," retorted the Bellows. "Why, I could blow a mile of poetry +like that in ten minutes: + + What's the use of churches big that haven't any steeples? + What's the use of nations great that haven't any peoples? + + What's the use of oceans grand that haven't any beaches? + What's the use of Delawares that haven't any peaches? + + What's the use--" + +"O, shut up Wheezy," interrupted the Poker angrily. "Of course you can go +on like that forever, once somebody gives you the idea, but to have the +idea in the beginning was the big thing. Columbus was a great man for +coming to America, but every foreigner who has come over since isn't, not +by a long shot. As I say in my celebrated rhyme on "Greatness": + + The greatest man in all the world, by far the greatest one, + Is he who goes ahead and does what no one else has done. + But he must be the first if he would rank as some "potaters," + For those who follow after him are merely imitators. + +[Illustration: "COLUMBUS WAS A GREAT MAN."] + +"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Bellows. "You are a great chap, Pokey--you, with +your poetry. I hope Tom isn't going to be affected by the lessons you +teach. The idea of saying that a man is the greatest man in the world +because he does what no one else has done! I guess nobody's never eaten +bricks up to now. Do you mean to say that if Tom here ate a brick he'd be +the greatest man in the world?" + +"No; he'd be a cannibal," put in the Righthandiron, desirous of stopping +the quarrel between the rivals. + +"How do you make that out?" demanded the Bellows. + +"Because Tom is a brick himself," explained the Righthandiron; and just +then slap! bang! the party plunged head first into what appeared to +be--and in fact really was--a huge snowbank. + +"Hurrah! Here we are!" cried Lefty, gleefully. + +"Wh-where are we?" Tom sputtered, blowing the snow out of his mouth and +shaking it from his coat and hair and ears. + +"Hi, there! Look out!" roared Righty, grabbing Tom by the coat sleeve and +yanking him off to one side. A terrible swishing sound fell upon the lad's +ears, and as he gazed doggedly about him to see what had caused it he saw +a great golden toboggan whizzing down into the valley, and then slipping +up the hill on the other side. + +"You had a narrow escape that time," said Righty, as they excitedly +watched the toboggan speeding on its way, and which, by the way, was +filled with a lot of little youngsters no bigger than Tom himself, +children of all colors, apparently, red, white and blue, green, yellow and +black. "If I hadn't yanked you away you'd have been run over." + +"But where are we?" Tom asked, bewildered by the experience. + +"We're on the Crescent Moon at last," said Lefty. "It's the boss toboggan +slide of the universe." + +"A toboggan slide?" cried Tom. + +"The very same," said the Poker. "Didn't you know that this dazzling +whiteness of the Crescent Moon is merely the reflection of the sun's light +on the purest of pure white snow? It's too high up for dust and dirt here, +you see, and so the snow is always clean, and so, equally of course, is +dazzling white." + +"But the tobogganing?" asked Tom. + +"It's like swinging and letting the old cat die," explained the +Righthandiron. "You see, it's this shape," and he marked the crescent form +of the moon on the snow and lettered the various points. + +"Now," he continued, "you start your toboggan at A and whizz down to C. +When you get there you have gathered speed enough to take you up the hill +to B. Then of its own weight the toboggan slides back to D, from which it +again moves forward to E, and so it keeps on sliding back and forth until +finally it comes to a dead stop at C. Isn't that a fine arrangement?" + +"Magnificent," said Tom. "And do they call it tobogganing here?" + +"No," said Righty, "it's called oscillating, and the machine is known as +the oscycle"-- + +"Don't confound it with the icicle," put in the Bellows. + +"Oh, I know what an icicle is," said Tom. "It's a spear of ice that hangs +from a piazza roof." + +"That's what it is at home," said the Poker, "but not here, my lad. Here +an icicle is a bicycle with runners instead of wheels." + +"But what makes it go?" demanded Tom. + +"Pedals, of course," returned the Poker. "You just tread away on the +pedals, as if you were riding on a bicycle, and the chain sets a dozen ice +picks revolving that shove you over the ice like the wind. Oh, it's great +sport!" + +[Illustration: "YOU SEE, IT'S THIS SHAPE."] + +Another rush and roar of a passing toboggan caused them to pause in their +conversation for a moment, and then Tom turned his attention to the +diagram Righty had drawn on the snow. + +"Suppose you didn't stop at B and go back--what would happen?" he asked as +he considered the possible dangers of this wonderful new sport. + +"You'd fall over the edge, of course," said the Poker. + +"I see that," said Tom. "But if you fell over the edge what would become +of you? Where would you land?" + +"If you had luck you wouldn't land anywhere," said Righty. "The chances +are, however, you'd fall back on the earth again. Maybe in Canada, +possibly in China, perhaps in Egypt. It would all depend on the time of +night." + +"And wouldn't you be killed?" Tom asked. + +"Not if you had your rubbers on," said Righty. "If you had your rubbers on +it would only jar you slightly. You'd just hit the earth and then bounce +back again, but there's no use of talking about that, because it never +happened but once. It happened to a chap named Blenkinson, who took an +Oscillator that hadn't any brake on it. He was one of those smart fellows +that want to show how clever they are. He whizzed down one side and up the +other, and pouf! First thing he knew he was flying off into space." + +"And what became of him?" demanded Tom. + +"He had the luck not to hit anything, but he suffered just the same," said +Righty. "He flew on until he got to a point where he was held fast up in +the air by the force of gravity of 1,600 different planets, and he's there +yet. At a distance he looks like another new star, but when you get close +to him he's nothing more than just a plain, everyday Smarty." + +"I should think he'd starve to death," said Tom, as he reflected on the +horrid fate of Blenkinson. + +"He would if he had any appetite," said the Bellows. "But he hasn't. He's +so worried all the time that he can't eat, so he gets along very well +without food." + +"Let's quit talking now," suggested the Poker, "and get a ride, eh?" + +"I'm ready," said Tom eagerly. "Where do we start?" + +"There's the station up on the hill. It's only about 700 miles. We can +walk it in a year," said Righty. + +"I move we take this cloud that's coming up," said the Bellows. "I'm +winded." + +Tom looked in the direction in which the Bellows had pointed, and, sure +enough, there was a cloud coming slowly along, shaped very much like a +trolley car, and on the front of it, as it drew nearer, the lad was soon +able to discern the funny little figure of a Brownie acting as motorman. + +"Why, it's really a trolley!" he cried. + +[Illustration: "Why it's really a trolley!"] + +"Certainly it is!" laughed Righty. "Didn't you know that? When you have +watched the moon from your window at home and seen constant lines of +clouds passing up to it and stopping before its face night after night +what did you suppose they did it for? Fun? I guess not. They're clever +people up here, these moonfolk are, and they make use of everything going. +They've taken these electric clouds and turned 'em into a sort of Sky +Traction Company, and instead of letting 'em travel all around the +universe doing nothing and raising thunder generally, some of the richer +Brownies have formed a company to control them." + +By this time the cloud had reached the point where our little party stood, +and the motorman, in response to the Bellows' signal, brought it to a +standstill. + +"Step lively, please," the conductor cried from the rear end. + +Tom and the two Andirons and the Poker and Bellows clambered aboard. + +The conductor clanged a bell. The motorman turned his wheel and the cloud +moved rapidly on. + +And what a queer crowd of folks there were on board that strange trolley +cloud. Tom had never seen such an interesting group before. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +On the Trolley Cloud. + + +As I stated at the end of the last chapter, the travelers Tom and his +companions encountered upon the Trolley cloud were a wonderful lot. In the +first place, the whole situation was strange. Here was, in fact, a perfect +car, made of what at a distance looked to be nothing but a fleecy bit of +vapor. It had seats and signs--indeed, the advertising signs alone were +enough to occupy the mind of any person seeing them for the first time to +the exclusion of all else, what with the big painted placard at the end, +saying: + + FOR POLAR BEARS GO TO ARCTICS + FIFTY-SEVEN VARIETIES. + No Home Complete Without Them. + +Another showing a picture of Potted Town, in which all the inhabitants +lived on canned food and things that came in jars, reading: + + This is the famous Potted Town, + Where everything is done up brown, + We live on lobsters tinned, and beans, + And freshly caught and oiled sardines; + On ham and eggs done up in jars, + And caramels that come in bars, + Come buy a lot in Potted Town, + And join the throngs we do up brown. + A corner lot for fifty cents-- + + A bargain that is just immense. + An inner lot for forty-nine + For residence is just divine. + If in a year you do not find + That we are suited to your mind + We'll give you fifteen cents in gold, + And take back all the lots we've sold, + If, when in other lands you go + You'll recommend Soapolio. + +"Who on earth wants a Polar Bear at home?" ejaculated Tom as he read the +first. + +"I do," growled a deep bass voice at his side, and the little traveler, +turning to see who it was that had spoken, was surprised and really +startled to find himself seated next to a shaggy-coated beast of that +precise kind. "I do," repeated the Polar Bear, "and if anybody says I +don't I'll chew him up," and then he opened his mouth and glared at Tom as +if to warn the young man from pursuing the subject further. + +"So would I," put in Righty. "So would I if all the Polar Bears were like +you." + +The bear was apparently pleased by the compliment and, with a satisfied +wink at Righty, folded his fore legs over his chest and went to sleep. + +"I think I'll buy one of those lots in Potted Town," said a Kangaroo who +sat opposite to Tom. + +"You couldn't raise the money," growled a Flamingo who sat at the far end +of the car. "Thirty cents is your measure." + +"Let him alone, Flammy," said an Ostrich who was crowded uncomfortably in +between the Kangaroo and an old gentleman with one eye and a green beard +who, Tom learned later, was a leading citizen of Saturn. "He can't help it +if he's poor." + +"Thank you, Mr. Ostrich," said the Kangaroo, with a sob. "I was very much +hurt by the Flamingo's remark. I have 19,627 children, and it keeps me +jumping all the time to support them." + +[Illustration: "IT KEEPS ME JUMPING ALL THE TIME."] + +"I apologize," said the Flamingo. "My observations were most unjust. You +do not look like thirty cents at all, as I perceive at second glance. As I +look at you more closely you look like a $1.39 marked down to seventy-two. +But why don't you get up and give the lady your seat?" + +"Is there a lady on the car who wants it?" asked the Kangaroo, standing +up, and peering anxiously about him. + +"No, of course not," said the Flamingo, "but what difference does that +make? A true gentleman is polite whether there are ladies present or not." + +The Polar Bear opened his eyes and leaning forward glared at the +Flamingo. + +"You don't seem to be over-anxious about yourself," he growled. "Why don't +you give up your seat to the imaginary lady?" + +"Because, Mr. Bear," the Flamingo returned, "it would not be polite. The +seat I occupy is extremely uncomfortable, thanks to the crowding of the +Hippopotamus on my left and the indulgence in peanuts of the Monkey on my +right. By sitting down where I am, I am making a personal sacrifice." + +"There'll be a free fight in a minute," said the Poker, anxiously. "I +think we'd better get out." + +"You won't do anything of the sort," said the Conductor. "Nobody leaves +this car until we get there." + +"Get where?" demanded the Poker. + +"Anywhere," returned the Conductor. "Fares, please." + +"But we've all paid," said the Flamingo. + +"Somebody hasn't," replied the Conductor. "There are twenty-two on this +car and I've collected only twenty-one fares. I don't know who is the +deadhead. Therefore you must all pay. It is better that there should be +twenty-one lawsuits for a total damage of $1.25 than that this company +should lose a nickel. Juries disagree. Fares, please." + +"I decline to pay a second time," cried the Monkey. + +"And I--and I," came from all parts of the car; from Lefty and Righty, +from Tom, the Flamingo, the Hippopotamus and Polar Bear. + +"Very well," said the Conductor, calmly. "I don't care. It isn't my money +that's lost, but I'll tell you one thing, this car doesn't stop until +you've all paid up!" + +"What!" cried the Polar Bear. "I want to get off at the Toboggan slide." + +"So do I--so do I," cried everybody. + +"No doubt," said the Conductor; "but that's your business, not mine. +Double your speed, Moty," he added, calling forward to the Motorman. +"These people want to get off. Of course, gentlemen and fellow beasts," he +continued, "I can't keep you from getting off, but this car is traveling +at the rate of four miles a minute, and if you try it, you do so at your +own risk. Fares, please." + +"It's an outrage!" said the Flamingo. + +"I'm going to jump," said the Kangaroo. + +"I think we'd better sit still, Tom," whispered Righty. "It would be +smithereens if we tried to get off the car going at this rate." + +"Don't mind me," said Tom. "I'm having a bully time. This is quite as good +fun as oscillating, I guess." + +"Excuse me, sir," said the Conductor, in reply to the Kangaroo, "but I +must ask your name and address. I cannot prevent you from jumping, but I'm +required by the rules of the company to find out all about you before +letting you commit suicide. We need the information in case your heirs sue +the company. Married?" + +"Yes," said the Kangaroo. "Sixteen times." + +"Any children?" queried the Conductor. + +"I have already said so," sobbed the Kangaroo; "19,627 of them." + +"Boys or girls?" asked the Conductor kindly. + +"Neither," replied the Kangaroo. + +"What?" cried the Conductor. + +"Kangaroos, every one of 'em," sobbed the unhappy passenger. + +"O, I see," said the Conductor, "What is your business?" + +"Jumping," replied the Kangaroo. + +"Business address?" demanded the Conductor. + +"Number 28 Australia," was the reply. + +"Home address?" questioned the Conductor. + +"Number 37 Melbourne," said the Kangaroo. "Melbourne is in Australia, you +know," he added. + +"Made your will?" put in the Conductor, suddenly. + +"What has that got to do with it?" cried the Kangaroo, angrily, but with a +nervous start. + +"We cannot permit you to jump unless you've made a will," said the +Conductor, politely. "You see, when you jump you leave the car, and we +don't know whom you leave the car to until we have read your will. You +might leave it to Tom or to Righty, or to the poetic Poker--or to old +Shaggy over there,"--pointing to the Polar Bear. "Inasmuch as it's our car +we have a right to know to whom you leave it." + +"I guess I'll stay where I am," said the Kangaroo meekly, very much +overcome by the Conductor's logic. + +"That's the answer," returned the Conductor. "You seem to be a very +sensible sort of Kangaroo. Fare, please!" And the Kangaroo, diving down +into his pocket, produced a five-cent piece, which he handed over to the +Conductor without further comment. + +"Anybody else think of jumping off?" asked the Conductor pleasantly, +turning about and glancing over the other occupants of the car. + +"I might," said the Monkey, placidly. + +"O, indeed," said the Conductor, walking along the car to where the Monkey +sat. "You might think of jumping off, eh?" + +"Yes," said the Monkey. + +"Do you know where you would land?" + +"Yes," said the Monkey. + +"Where?" demanded the Conductor. + +"On my feet," said the Monkey. "Where else?" + +The Conductor was apparently much put out. + +"You're pretty smart, aren't you?" he said. + +"No," said the Monkey. "I'm only plain smart. I'm not pretty." + +"Everybody's talking about you? I presume," sneered the Conductor. + +"Not yet, but they will be," returned the Monkey, with a grin. + +"When?" demanded the Conductor. + +"When my tail is published," retorted the Monkey, with a grin. + +"Humph!" jeered the Conductor. "Great tail that." + +"No," said the Monkey, "not very great, but it has a swing about it--" + +"Say," interrupted the Hippopotamus, "I've got an idea. Somebody hasn't +paid his fare, eh?" + +"That's the point," said the Conductor. + +"And unless he owns up we've all got to go on in this car forever?" + +"You have," replied the Conductor, firmly. + +"Well, let's be sensible about it," said the Hippopotamus. "We're all +honest--at least I am--and I've paid once, and I admit I'm riding cheap +considering my weight. But who hasn't paid? Tom, did you pay?" + +"I paid for our whole party," put in Righty. + +"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "Did you pay, Monk?" + +"Yes, I did," said the Monkey. "I paid for me and Polar Bear." + +"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "Has the Flamingo paid?" + +"I gave him a promissory note for my fare," said the Flamingo. + +"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "And now for the main question. Conductor, +have you paid your fare?" + +"I?" cried the Conductor. + +"Yes, you!" roared the Hippopotamus, "Have you paid your fare?" + +"But--" the Conductor began. + +"I won't but," returned the Hippo. "I'm a Hippopotamus, I am. Not a goat. +Have you paid your fare?" + +"Of course I haven't," returned the Conductor, "because--" + +"That's it!" returned the Hippopotamus. "That's the whole point. He's the +one that's shy, and because we won't consent to pay his fare out of our +own pockets he's going to hold us up. I move we squash him." + +"But I say," roared the Conductor. + +"Oh, pay your fare and shut up," growled the Polar Bear, "You began the +row. What's the use?" + +"Hear 'em quoting my poem," whispered the Poker to Tom. + +"I've taken his number," said the Flamingo. "It's eight billion and seven. +He's trying to beat his way." + +"Pay up, pay up," came from all parts of the car, and before he knew it +Tom found himself in the midst of an angry group surrounding the +Conductor, insisting that he should pay his fare. + +"Who are you that you should ride free?" demanded the Flamingo. "The idea +of servants of the company having greater privileges than the patrons of +the road!" + +[Illustration: "I HAVEN'T THE MONEY."] + +"If you don't pay up right away," roared the Polar Bear, "I'll squeeze you +to death." + +"And I'll sit on you," put in the Hippopotamus. + +"I haven't the money," cried the Conductor, now thoroughly frightened. + +"Borrow it from the company," said the Polar Bear, "and ring it up." + +This the Conductor did, and a moment later, having reached the station, +rang the bell, and the car stopped. + +"All out!" he cried, and the whole party descended. + +"Who paid his fare, anyhow?" asked the Flamingo. + +"I didn't," said the Monkey. + +"No more did I," said the Hippopotamus. "The Kangaroo did, though. Didn't +you, Kangy?" + +"Only once," said the Kangaroo, "and that was the second time." + +"Let's get away from this crowd," said the Bellows. "They're not honest." + +"Right you are," said the Polar Bear. "They're a very bad lot. Come along; +let's get aboard this toboggan, and leave 'em behind." + +Whereupon Tom and his companions, accompanied by the Polar Bear, stepped +aboard the waiting Oscycle, and were soon speeding down the upper incline +of the Crescent Moon. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +On the Oscycle--A Narrow Escape. + + +"Well," said the Polar Bear, as the Oscycle started on its downward +course: "I'm mighty glad we're off, and away from those other creatures on +that Trolley. They were a dishonest lot." + +"So am I," came a voice from behind him, that made the Bear jump +nervously, for it was none other than the Flamingo. + +"So are the rest of us," added a lot of voices in chorus, and Tom, turning +to see who beside himself and his companions had got aboard, was hugely +amused to see the Kangaroo, the Monkey, the Hippopotamus and all the other +creatures from the Trolley, save only the conductor and motorman, seated +there behind, as happy as you please. + +"It doesn't pay to associate with conductors," said the Flamingo. "They +don't think of anything but money all the time, and they're awfully rude +about it sometimes. Why, I knew a conductor once who refused to change a +$100 bill for me." + +"I don't believe you ever had a $100 bill," growled the Hippopotamus. + +"I've got one I wouldn't sell for $1,000," said the Flamingo. "It's the +one I eat with," he added. + +"That's not legal tender," said the Polar Bear. + +"You couldn't change it if it was," sneered the Flamingo. + +[Illustration: On the Oscycle.] + +"I could change it in a minute if I wanted to," said the Polar Bear, with +a chuckle. + +"What with, cash?" demanded the Flamingo, scornfully. + +"No--with one whack of my paw," said the Bear, shaking his fist menacingly +at the Flamingo. "I could change your whole face, for that matter," he +added, with a frown. + +"I was only fooling, Poley, old man," said the Flamingo, a trifle worried. +"Of course you could, but you wouldn't, would you?" + +"Not unless I had to," replied the Bear, "but, gee, aren't we just +whizzing along! Are you cold, Tom?" + +"Yes," said Tom, with a shiver, "just a little." + +"Well, come sit next to me and I'll let you use my furs. I don't need 'em +myself. I'm a pretty warm Bear, considering where I come from." + +"Sit close, gentlemen," cried the man in charge of the Oscycle. "We're +coming to a thank-you-marm. Look out! Look out! Hang together. By jove, +there goes the Monkey." + +And sure enough, off the Monkey flew as the Oscycle crossed the hump at an +enormous rate of speed. + +"Hi, there, you fellows," the Monkey shrieked, as he landed in the soft +snow, "wait a minute. Hi, you! Stop! Wait for me!" + +"Can't do it," roared the man in charge. "Can't stop--going too fast." + +"But what am I going to doo-oo-oo?" shrieked the Monkey excitedly. + +"Get inside of a snowball and roll down. We'll catch you on the way back," +the Kangaroo yelled, and as they now passed out of hearing of the +monkey's voice no one knew how the little creature took the suggestion. + +"I'm glad he's gone," said the Hippopotamus. "He was a nuisance--and I +tell you I had a narrow escape. He had his tail wound around my neck a +minute before. He might have yanked me off with him." + +"Yanked you?" said the Old Gentleman from Saturn, gazing contemptuously at +the Hippopotamus. "Bosh! The idea of a seven-pound monkey yanking a +three-ton Hippopotamus!" + +"What?" roared the man in charge. "A what how much which?" + +"Three-ton," said the Old Gentleman from Saturn. "That's what he weighs. I +know because he stepped on my toe getting off the Trolley." + +"But it's against the law!" cried the Man in Charge. "We're not allowed to +carry more than 1,000 pounds on these Machines." + +"Humph!" laughed the Kangaroo. "It's very evident, Hippy, that you'll have +to go way back and lose some weight." + +"I can't help weighing three tons," said the Hippopotamus. "I'm built that +way." + +"That's all right," said the Man in Charge, wringing his hands in despair; +"but you'll have to get off. If you don't we'll go over the edge." His +voice rose to a shriek. + +Tom's heart sank and he half rose up. + +"Sit still," said the two Andirons, grabbing him by the arms. "We're in +for it. We've got to take what comes." + +"Right you are," said the Bellows. "Don't you bother, Tom. We'll come out +all right in the end." + +[Illustration: "MY OWN PRIVATE ICEBERG."] + +"But what's the trouble, Mr. Man?" asked the Poker. "What's the Hippo's +weight got to do with our going over the edge?" + +"Why, can't you see?" explained the Man in Charge. "His 6,000 pounds +pushing the machine along from behind there gives us just so much extra +speed, and all the brakes in the world won't stop us now we've got going +unless he gets off." + +The announcement caused an immediate panic, and the Polar Bear began to +cry like a baby. + +"Oh, why did I ever come?" he moaned as the tears trickled down his nose +and froze into a great icicle at the end of it. "When I might have stayed +home riding around on my own private iceberg?" + +"Stop your whimpering," said the Kangaroo. "Brace up and be a man." + +"I don't want to be a man," blubbered the bear, "I'm satisfied to be a +poor, miserable little Polar Bear." + +"You've got to jump, Hippy," said the Flamingo. "That's all there is about +it." + +"Sir," replied the Hippopotamus solemnly, "I shall not jump. It would ill +comport with my dignity for me to try to jump as if I were merely a +Kangaroo. No sir. Here I sit, firm as a rock. You might as well ask an +elephant to dance a jig." + +"We'll put you off if you don't get off of your own accord," roared the +Polar Bear, bracing up, and removing the icicle from his nose he shook it +angrily at the Hippopotamus. + +"All right," said the Hippopotamus with a pleasant smile "All right. Has +any gentleman brought a derrick along with him to assist in the operation? +You don't happen to have a freight elevator in your pocket, do you, Mr. +Kangaroo?" + +"Pry him off, Poker," cried the Kangaroo. + +"I would if I could," answered the Poker, mournfully. "But I'm not a +crowbar." + +"Well, then, all together here," shouted the Man from Saturn. "Line up and +we'll shove him off." + +There was a frantic rush at the stolid Hippopotamus in response to this +suggestion, but they might as well have tried to batter down the rock of +Gibraltar by hurling feathers against it, so firmly fixed in his seat was +this passenger of outrageous weight. + +"Come again, gentlemen," said the Hippopotamus suavely. "There's nothing +better for the complexion than a good rub, and I assure you you have +placed me under an obligation to you." + +"Prod him with the icicle," said the Kangaroo to the Polar Bear. + +"I am not to be moved by tears, even if they are frozen and sharpened to a +point," laughed the Hippopotamus, as the Polar Bear did as he was told, +smashing the icicle without so much as denting the Hippo's flesh. + +"Well, if you won't jump, I will," said the Man from Saturn angrily. "If +I'm hurt I'll take it out of your hide when we meet again." + +"All right," retorted the Hippopotamus. "You'll have to get a steam drill +and blast it out. By-by." + +The man from Saturn jumped and landed head first in the snow, but whether +he was hurt or not the party never knew, for their speed was now so +terrific that he had barely landed before they whizzed past the bottom of +the hill and up the other incline. It became clear, too, as they sped on +that at such a fearful rate of progress nothing could now keep the Oscycle +from going over the edge, and the others began to lay plans for safety. + +[Illustration: THE MAN FROM SATURN JUMPED.] + +"I'm going to jump for a passing trolley cloud the minute we get to the +edge," said the Kangaroo. + +"I don't know what I shall do," sobbed the Polar Bear. "If I land on my +feet I'll be all right, for they're big and soft, like sofa cushions, but +if I land on my head--" + +"That's softer yet, Poley," laughed the Flamingo, who appeared to be less +concerned than anybody. "If you land on your head it will be just as if +you fell into a great bowl of oatmeal, so you're all right." + +"I'm not afraid for myself," said the Poker. "I can drop any distance +without serious injury, being made of iron, and my friends, the Andirons, +are equally fortunate. The Bellows, too, is comparatively safe. The worst +that can happen to him is to have the wind knocked out of him. But--" + +"It's Tom we're bothered about," said the Righthandiron, with an anxious +glance at Lefty. "You see, we invited him to come off here with us, and--" + +"Who is he, anyhow?" demanded the Flamingo, glancing at Tom in such a way +that the youngster began to feel very uncomfortable. + +"I'm a Dormouse," said Tom, remembering the agreement. + +"Not for this occasion," put in the Poker. "This time you're a boy, and +we've got to save you somehow or other and we'll do it, Tom, so don't be +afraid." + +"What kind of boy is he?" demanded the Flamingo. "One of these +bean-snapping boys that go around shooting robins and hooking birds' eggs +when they haven't anything else to do?" + +"Not a bit of it," said Righty. "He never snapped a bean at a bird in all +his life." + +"Humph!" said the Flamingo. "I suppose he's been too busy pulling feathers +out of peacocks' tails to decorate his room with to be bothering with +robins and eggs." + +"Never did such a thing in all my born days," retorted Tom indignantly. + +"Probably not," sneered the Flamingo. "And why? Because you were so well +satisfied keeping a canary locked up in a cage for your own pleasure that +you hadn't any time to chase peacocks." + +"I've lived in the family forty years," said the Righthandiron, "and to my +knowledge there was never a caged bird in the house." + +"Really?" said the Flamingo, looking at Tom with interest. "Rather a new +kind of boy this. Very few boys have a good record where birds are +concerned." + +"Tom's no enemy to birds," observed the Bellows. "I know that because I've +been in his family longer than he has, and I've watched him." + +"Well," said the Flamingo, "if that's the case, maybe I can help him. One +good turn deserves another. If he is good to birds I may be able at this +time to do good to him. This trouble ahead of us doesn't bother me, +because I have wings and can fly--" Here the Flamingo flapped his wings +proudly--"and I could take Tom on my back and fly anywhere with him, for I +am an extremely powerful bird. But I want to know one more thing about him +before I undertake to save him. We birds must stand together, you know, +and I'm not going to befriend a foe to my kind under any circumstances. +Thomas!" + +[Illustration: In a moment he was sitting astride the great bird's neck.] + +"Yes, sir," replied Tom, all of a tremble, for he hadn't the slightest +idea what was coming, and as a truthful boy he knew that whatever the +consequences to himself might be he must give the correct answer. + +"Do you have Sunday breakfast at home?" asked the Flamingo. + +"Yes, sir," Tom replied respectfully. + +"You have coffee and hominy and toast and fried potatoes and all that?" +queried the bird. + +"Yes, sir," Tom answered, turning very pale, however, for he was in great +dread of what he now saw was likely to come next. + +"And--ah--fruit?" said the Flamingo. + +"Oh, yes, plenty of fruit," replied Tom very nervously. + +"And now, sir," said the Flamingo, severely, and ruffling his feathers +like an angry turkey, "now for the main point. Thomas--and, mind you I +want a truthful answer. Did you ever eat a broiled--Flamingo for your +Sunday morning breakfast?" + +Tom breathed a sigh of relief as the Flamingo blurted out the last part of +his question. + +"No, sir. Never!" he replied. + +"Then hurry and climb up on my shoulders here," the Flamingo cried. +"You're a boy after my own heart. I believe you'd be kind to a stuffed +parrot. But hurry--there's the edge right ahead of us. Jump--" + +Tom jumped and in a moment was sitting astride of the great bird's neck. +In his right hand he grasped the claw of Righty, in his left that of +Lefty, while these two clutched tightly hold of the Bellows and the Poker +respectively. A moment later the Oscycle reached the edge and dashed +wildly over it, the Kangaroo following out his plan of jumping higher +still and fortunately for himself catching a passing trolley cloud by +which he was borne back to the starting point again. + +As for the Polar Bear and the Hippopotamus, they plunged out into space, +while the group comprising our little party from home and the Flamingo +soared gracefully back to earth again, where the generous-hearted bird +deposited them safely on top of the most convenient Alp. + +"Thanks very much," said Tom, as he clambered down from the bird's neck +and stood upon solid ground again. + +"Don't mention it," said the Flamingo. "It's a pleasure to serve a +bird-defender and his friends," and with this he soared away. + +"I'm glad he didn't ask me if I ever ate broiled chicken for Sunday +breakfast," said Tom. + +"Why?" asked the Poker. "Do you?" + +"Do I?" cried Tom. "Well, I guess. I don't do anything else." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +Home Again + + +"And now," said the Lefthandiron as the Flamingo flew off and left them to +themselves, "it strikes me that it is time we set about having some +supper. I'm getting hungry, what with the excitement of that ride, and the +fact I haven't eaten anything but a bowlful of kindling wood since +yesterday morning." + +"I'm with you there," said Tom. "I've been hungry ever since we started +and that snow on the moon whetted my appetite." + +"Never knew a boy who wasn't hungry on all occasions," puffed the Bellows. +"Fact is, a boy wouldn't be a real boy unless he was hungry. Did you ever +know a boy that would confess he'd had enough to eat, Pokey?" + +"Once," said Poker, "I wrote a poem about him, but I never could get it +published. Want to hear it?" + +"Very much," said Tom. + +"Well, here goes," said the Poker anxiously, and he recited the following +lines: + + THE WONDROUS STRIKE OF SAMMY DIKE. + + Young Sammy Dike was a likely boy + Who lived somewhere in Illinois, + His father was a blacksmith, and + His Ma made pies for all the land. + The pies were all so very fine + That folks who sought them stood in line + Before the shop of Dike & Co., + 'Mid passing rain, in drifting snow, + For fear they'd lose the tasty prize + Of "Dike's new patent home-made pies." + One day, alas, poor Mrs. Dike, + Who with her pies had made the strike, + By overwork fell very ill, + And all her orders could not fill. + So ill was she she could not bake + One-half the pastry folks would take; + And so her loving husband said + He'd take her place and cook, instead + Of making horse-shoes. Kindly Joe, + To help his wife in time of woe! + He worked by night, he worked by day-- + Yet worked, alas, in his own way + And made such pies, I've understood, + As but a simple blacksmith could. + He made them hard as iron bars; + He made them tough as trolley cars. + He seemed to think a pie's estate + Was to be used as armor plate. + And not a pie would he let go + That had not stood the sledge's blow + Upon the anvil in his sanctum, + Whence naught went out until he'd spanked 'em. + Result? With many alas and 'lack + The pies Joe made they all came back. + From folks who claimed they could not go + The latest pies of Dike & Co. + And here it was that Sammy came + To help his parents in the game. + "Can't eat 'em?" cried indignant Joe. + "Can't eat 'em? Well, I want to know! + Here, Sammy, show these people here + How most unjust their plaint, my dear. + Come, lad, and eat the luscious pies + That I have made and they despise." + Poor loyal Sammy then began + Upon those stodgy pies--the plan + Was very pleasing in his eyes, + For Sammy loved his mother's pies. + He nibbled one, he bit another, + And then began to think of mother. + He chewed and gnawed, he munched and bit, + But no--he could not swallow it; + And then, poor child, it was so tough + He had to say he'd had enough, + Though never in the world before + Was lad who had not wanted more. + And what became of Sammy's Ma? + And what became of Sammy's Pa? + Their profits gone, how could they eke + A living good from week to week? + They took the recipe for pies + That mother made and--Oh, so wise-- + Let Father make them in his way + In form elliptical, they say. + And when the football season came + Won fortune great, and wondrous fame, + Beyond the wildest hope of dreams, + By selling these to football teams. + And those by whom this game is played + Called them the finest ever made. + "The Shuregood football" made of mince, + Has never quite been equaled since; + And few who kick them with their feet, + Know they're the pies Sam couldn't eat-- + The only pies upon this orb + A healthy boy could not absorb. + +[Illustration: "UPON THE ANVIL IN HIS SANCTUM."] + +"Great poem that, eh?" said the Bellows, poking Tom in the ribs, and +grinning broadly. + +"Splendid," said Tom. "New use for pies, that." + +"It's beautifully long," said Lefty. + +"But why couldn't it be published?" asked Righty. "Wasn't it long enough?" + +"The editor said it wasn't true," sighed the Poker. "He had three boys of +his own, you know, and he said there never was a boy who couldn't eat a +pie even if it was made of crowbars and rubber, as long as it was pie." + +"I guess he was right," observed Righty. "I knew a boy once who ate soft +coal just because somebody told him it was rock-candy." + +"Did he like it?" asked Tom. + +"I don't think he did," replied Righty, "but he never let on that he +didn't." + +"Well, anyhow," put in Lefty, "it's time we had something to eat and we'd +better set out for the Lobster shop or the Candydike--I don't care which." + +"Or the what?" asked Tom. + +"The Candydike?" said the Lefthandiron. "Didn't you ever hear of the +Candydike?" + +"Never," responded Tom. "What is it?" + +"It's a candy Klondike," explained the Lefthandiron. "There are Gumdrop +Mines and Marshmallow Lodes and Deposits of Chocolate Creams beyond the +dreams of avarice. Remember 'em, Righty?" + +"Oom, mh, mh!" murmured Righty, smacking his lips with joy. "Do I remember +them! O, my! Don't I just. Why, I never wanted to come back from there. I +had to be pulled out of the Peppermint mine with a derrick. And the +river--O, the river. Was there anything ever like it?" + +Tom's mouth began to water, he knew not why. + +"What about the river?" he asked. + +"Soda water flowing from Mountain to the Sea," returned the Righthandiron, +smacking his lips again ecstatically. "Just imagine it, Tom. A great +stream of Soda Water fed by little rivulets of Vanilla and Strawberry and +Chocolate syrup, with here and there a Cream brook feeding the +combination, until all you had to do to get a glass of the finest nectar +ever mixed was to dip your cup into the river and there you were." + +Tom closed his eyes with very joy at the mere idea. + +"O--where is this river?" he cried, when he was able to find words to +speak. + +"In the Candydike, of course. Where else?" said the Poker. "But of course +we can go to the Lobster shop if you prefer." + +"Not I," said Tom. "I don't care for any Lobster shop with a Candydike in +sight." + +"Don't be rash," said the Bellows, who apparently had a strong liking for +the Lobster shop. "Of course we all love the Candydike because it is so +sweet, but for real pleasure the Lobster shop is not to be despised. I +don't think you ought to make up your mind as to where you'll go next in +too much of a hurry." + +"What's the fun in the Lobster shop?" asked Tom. + +"Purely intellectual, if you know what that means," said the Bellows. "You +get your mind filled there instead of your stomach. You meet the wittiest +oysters, and the most poetic clams, and the most literary lobsters at the +Lobster shop you ever saw. For my part I love the Lobster shop. I can get +something to eat anywhere. I can get a stake at any lumber yard in town. I +can get a chop at any ax factory in the country, and if I want sweets I +can find a Cakery--" + +"Bakery, you mean?" said Tom. + +"No, I don't at all," said the Bellows. "I mean Cakery. A Cakery is a +place where they sell cake, and when I say Cakery I mean what I say. Just +because you call it Bakery doesn't prove anything." + +"We're out for pleasure, not for argument," growled the Lefthandiron. "Go +on and say what you've got to say." + +"Well," said the Bellows, "what I was trying to say, when interrupted, was +that you can get your stomach filled almost anywhere, but your mind--that +is different. I'm hungrier in my mind than in my stomach, and I'd rather +be fed just now on the jests of an oyster, the good stories of a clam and +the anecdotes of a Lobster, than have the freedom of the richest +marshmallow mine in creation." + +"Well, I'm sure I don't know what to do," said Tom, very much perplexed. +The Candydike was glorious, but the Lobster shop, too, had its +attractions, for Tom was fond of witty jokes and good anecdotes. The idea +of having them from the lips of lobsters and oysters was very appealing. + +"I say," he said in a minute, "why isn't the Lobster shop the best place +for us to go after all, if we are really hungry? We could sit down at the +table, you know, and listen to the Lobster's anecdotes, and then eat him +afterward. In that way we could hear the stories and fill up beside." + +"Well--I de-clare!" cried the Bellows. "What an idea! You most ungrateful +boy!" + +"Not at all," said the Poker. "Not at all. It's merely the habit of his +kind. Many's the time when I've heard of men and women devouring their +favorite authors. Tom couldn't better show his liking for the lobster than +by eating him. On the other hand, if he goes there and turns his back on +the Candydike he'll miss the most wonderful sight in all creation, and +that is the Nesselrode Cataract on the Soda Water river. It is located at +the point where the Vanilla glacier comes down from the Cream mountains on +the one side, and the famous Marrons orchards line the other bank for a +distance of seven miles. It's a perfectly gorgeous sight." + +"Mercy me!" cried Tom. "Indeed, I should like to see that." + +[Illustration: DEVOURING HIS FAVORITE AUTHOR.] + +"No doubt," put in the Bellows. "Nevertheless, you can see Nesselrode +pudding at home at any time, but did you ever see there a Turtle that can +recite a fairy story of his own composition or a Crab capable of +narrating the most thrilling story of the American revolutionary war that +anybody ever dreamed of?" + +"O dear, O dear, O dear!" said Tom. "What shall I do?" + +As he spoke, from far down in the valley there seemed to come a crash and +a roar, following close upon which the barking of a dog made itself heard. + +"The ice is slipping," cried the Poker, as the mountain trembled beneath +them. "There's going to be an avalanche, and we're on it!" + +The whole top of the mountain shook as if it had been in an earthquake, +and then it began to crash rapidly downward. + +"Dear me! How annoying," observed the Bellows. "As if we haven't had +enough coasting this trip without taking a turn on an avalanche." + +"But what shall we do?" roared the Andirons excitedly. "I never foresaw +this." + +"Slide, I guess," said the Poker calmly. "It's all we can do." + +The barking of the dog approached closer. + +"Good!" cried Righty, clapping his claws together gleefully, as an idea +flashed across his mind. "It's one of those famous St. Bernards; he'll +take care of Tom, and as for us--" + +The thunderous roar of the descending avalanche drowned the sounds of +Righty's voice, and all that could now serve as a means of conveying their +thoughts to each other was the making of wild motions with the hands. The +Poker stood erect and stiff, looking grimly ahead of him, as if resolved +to meet his fate bravely; the Bellows threw himself flat upon the glacier +and panted; while the two Andirons, standing guard on either side of Tom, +peered anxiously about for the rescuer of their little guest, nor did +they look in vain, for in a few moments the huge figure of a St Bernard +appeared below them, rushing with all his might and main to their side. +For some reason or other, the St Bernard seemed to have something familiar +about him, but Tom couldn't quite say what it was. + +"Bow-wow-wow!" the dog barked gleefully, for this was just the sort of +work he most enjoyed. + +Strangely enough, Tom seemed to understand dog language for the first time +in his life, for the bark said to him as plainly as you please: "Climb on +my back sonny, and I'll have you out of this in a jiffy." + +The lad lost not a moment in obeying. Aided by the affectionate boosts of +the Andirons he soon found himself lying face downward upon the broad, +shaggy back of the faithful beast. + +He closed his eyes to shut out the blinding snow for a moment, and then-- + + * * * * * + +Tom sat up and rubbed them, for there was no snow, no avalanche, no Alp, +no St. Bernard dog in sight. Only a friendly pair of andirons staring +fixedly at him out of the fireplace of his father's library: the poker +standing like a grenadier at one side, and the bellows, hanging from a +brass-headed nail on the other. Beside these, lying on the rug beside him, +his head cocked to one side, his eyes fixed intently upon Tom's face, and +his tail wagging furiously, was Jeffy, not a St Bernard, but a shaggy +little Scotch terrier. + +"Hello, Jeffy!" said Tom, as he rubbed his eyes a second time. "Where have +you been all this time?" + +[Illustration: "Was it you who rescued me from the avalanche?"] + +"Woof!" barked Jeff, and cocking his eye knowingly. + +"And was it you who rescued me from the avalanche?" Tom asked. + +"Woof!" replied Jeff, as much as to say he wouldn't tell. + +"Well, it was mighty good of you, if you did, Jeffy," Tom said, +gratefully. "Only I wish you could have taken me to the Candydike or the +Lobster shop instead of straight home--because I'm not only hungry Jeffy, +but I should very much have liked to visit those wonderful places." + +"Woof!" said Jeffy. + +Which Tom took to be a promise that his rescuer would do better next time. + +The little party has not been off again since, but the other night some +pieces of newspaper were thrown into the fire place and all but one of +them were burned. Righty held this one under his claw and Tom, while +trying to get a word out of his friend, caught sight of it. + +"Hello," said Tom, as he read what was printed on the clipping. "The +astronomers at the Lick observatory have discovered a new constellation in +the southeast heavens. It is of huge dimensions and resembles in its +outlines the figure of a rhinoceros or some such pachydermatous creature." + +"Well, I never!" he cried, as he read. "I say, Righty, do you believe +that's the old Hippopotamus?" + +And Righty said never a word, but the look in his eye indicated that he +thought there was something in the notion. + +[Illustration] + +The End + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Andiron Tales, by John Kendrick Bangs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANDIRON TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 24130.txt or 24130.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/1/3/24130/ + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Jason Isbell, Christine D. and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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