Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
IN CAMP WITH A TIN SOLDIER.
IN CAMP WITH A TIN SOLDIER
BY
JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
ILLUSTRATED BY
E. M. ASHE
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
R. H. RUSSELL & SON
MDCCCXCII
COPYRIGHT, 1892.
BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS.
TO
RUSSELL.
CHAPTER I.
THE START.
"Br-r-r-rub-a-dub-dub! Br-r-r-rub-a-dub-a-dub-dub!
Br-r-r-rub-adub-dub-a-dub-dub-a-dub-dub!"
"What's that?" cried Jimmieboy, rising from his pillow on the nursery
couch, and looking about him, his eyes wide open with astonishment.
"What's what?" asked mamma, who was sitting near at hand, knitting a
pair of socks for a small boy she knew who would shortly want them to
keep his feet warm when he went off coasting with his papa.
"I thought I heard soldiers going by," returned Jimmieboy, climbing up
on the window-sill and gazing anxiously up and down the street. "There
were drums playing."
"I didn't hear them," said mamma. "I guess you imagined it. Better lie
down again, Jimmieboy, and rest. You will be very tired when papa gets
home, and you know if you are tired you'll have to go to bed instead of
taking supper with him, and that would be too bad on his birthday."
"Is papa really going to have a birthday to-day?" queried the little
fellow. "And a cake with candles in it?"
"Yes," answered mamma. "Two cakes with candles on them, I think," she
added.
"What's he to have two cakes for? I had only one," said Jimmieboy.
"One cake wouldn't be big enough to hold all the candles," mamma
answered. "You see, papa is a few years older than you are--almost six
times as old to-day, and if he has a candle for every year, he'll have
to have two cakes to hold them all."
"Is papa six years old to-day?" asked Jimmieboy, resuming his recumbent
position on the pillow.
"Oh, indeed, yes, he's thirty," said mamma.
"How many is thirty?" asked Jimmieboy.
"Never mind, dearest," returned mamma, giving Jimmieboy a kiss. "Don't
you bother about that. Just close those little peepers and go to
sleep."
So Jimmieboy closed his eyes and lay very still for a few minutes. He
was not sorry to do it, either, because he really was quite sleepy. He
ought to have had his nap before luncheon, but his mamma had been so
busy all the morning, making ready for his papa's birthday dinner, that
she had forgotten to call him in from the playground, where he was so
absorbed in the glorious sport of seesawing with his little friend from
across the way that he never even thought of his nap. As many as five
minutes must have slipped by before Jimmieboy opened his eyes again, and
I doubt if he would have done so even then had he not heard repeated the
unmistakable sounds of drums.
"I did hear 'em that time, mamma," he cried, starting up again and
winking very hard, for the sand-man had left nearly a pint of sand in
Jimmieboy's eyes. "I heard 'em plain as could be."
To this second statement of Jimmieboy's that he heard soldiers going by
somewhere, there was no answer, for there was no one in the room to give
him one. His mamma, supposing that he had finally fallen asleep, had
tiptoed out of the room and was now down stairs, so that the little
fellow found himself alone. As a rule he did not like to be alone,
although he knew of no greater delight than that of conversing with
himself, and he was on the point of running to the door to call to his
mother to return, when his attention was arrested by some very curious
goings-on in a favorite picture of his that hung directly over the
fire-place.
This picture was not, under ordinary circumstances, what any one would
call a lively picture--in fact, it was usually a very quiet one,
representing a country lane shaded on either side by great oak-trees
that towered up into the sky, their branches overhanging the road so as
to form a leafy arch, through which only an occasional ray of the sun
ever found its way. From one end to the other of this beautiful avenue
there were no signs of life, save those which were presented by the
green leaves of the trees themselves, and the purling brook, bordered by
grasses and mosses, that was visible a short distance in; no houses or
cows or men or children were there in sight. Indeed, had it not been for
a faint glimmering of sunlight at the far end of the road, some persons
might have thought it a rather gloomy scene, and I am not sure but that
even Jimmieboy, had he not wondered what there could be beyond the
forest, and around the turn which the road took at that other end,
would have found the picture a little depressing. It was his interest in
what might possibly lie beyond the point at which the picture seemed to
stop that had made it so great a favorite with him, and he had
frequently expressed a desire to take a stroll along that road, to fish
in the little stream, and to explore the hidden country around the turn.
So great was his interest in it at one time, that Jimmieboy's papa, who
was a great person for finding out things, promised to write to the man
who had painted the picture and ask him all about the unseen land, so
that his little son's curiosity might be satisfied, a promise which he
must have kept, for some days later, on his return from business, he
took a piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to Jimmieboy, saying
that there was the artist's answer. Jimmieboy couldn't read it, of
course, because at that time he had not even learned his letters, so he
got his papa to do it for him, and they made the pleasing discovery that
the artist was a poet as well as a painter, for the answer was all in
rhyme. If I remember rightly, this is the way it read:
AROUND THE TURN.
Around the turn are kings and queens;
Around the turn are dogs and cats;
Around the turn are pease and beans,
And handsome light blue derby hats.
Around the turn are grizzly bears;
Around the turn are hills and dales;
Around the turn are mice and hares,
And cream and milk in wooden pails.
Indeed, you'll find there horses, pigs,
Great seas and cities you'll discern;
All things, in fact, including figs,
For all the world lies round the turn.
This explanation was quite satisfactory to Jimmieboy, although he was a
little fearful as to what might happen if the grizzly bears should take
it into their heads to come down into the nursery and hug him, which was
certainly not an unlikely thing for them to do, for the mice had
come--he had seen them himself--and his mamma had often said that he was
a most huggable little fellow.
Now there was undoubtedly some sign of life down the road, for Jimmieboy
could see it with his own eyes. There was something moving there, and
that something was dressed in gay colors, and in front of it was
something else that shone brightly as an occasional ray of the sun
shimmered through the trees and glistened upon it. In an instant all
thought of his mamma had flown from his mind, so absorbed was he by the
startling discovery he had made up there in the picture. To turn back
from the door and walk over to the fire-place was the work of a moment,
and to climb up on the fender and gaze into the picture occupied hardly
more than another moment, and then Jimmieboy saw what it was that was
moving down the road, and with delighted ears heard also what that other
thing was that preceded the moving thing.
The first thing was a company of tin soldiers marching in perfect time,
their colors flying and the captain on horseback; and the other thing in
front was a full brass band, discoursing a most inspiring military march
in a fashion that set Jimmieboy strutting about the nursery like a
general.
As the little fellow strode around the room his step was suddenly
arrested by a voice immediately at his feet.
"Hi, there, Jimmieboy!" it said. "Please be careful where you are
walking. You nearly stepped on me that time."
Jimmieboy stopped short and looked down upon the floor.
"Hello!" he said. "What are you doing there, colonel?"--for it was none
other than the colonel of the tin soldiers himself who had thus
requested him to look out where he stepped.
"There's trouble on hand," said the colonel, climbing up on to a
footstool so as to be nearer Jimmieboy's ear, for he did not wish to
alarm everybody by shouting out the dreadful news he had to impart.
Jimmieboy's mamma, for instance, was a timid little woman, and she would
have been very much frightened if she had known what had happened.
"There's a great deal of trouble on hand," the colonel repeated. "The
Noah in your ark fell asleep last night before the animals had gone to
bed, and while he was napping, the Parallelopipedon got loose, ate up
the gingerbread monkey and four peppermint elephants, and escaped out of
the back window to the woods. Noah didn't find it out until an hour ago,
when he went to feed the elephants, and immediately he made the
discovery word came from the Pannikins, who live around the turn there
in the woods, that the Parallelopipedon had eaten the roof off their
house, and was at the time the letter was written engaged in whittling
down the fences with a jackknife, and rolling all the pumpkins down the
mountainside into Tiddledywinkland, and ruining the whole country. We
have got to capture that animal before breakfast. If we don't, there's
no telling what may happen. He might even go so far as to come back, and
that would be horrible."
"I don't think I remember the Parawelopipedon," said Jimmieboy,
pronouncing the animal's name with some difficulty. "What kind of an
animal was that?"
"Oh, he's an awful animal," returned the colonel. "I don't blame you for
not remembering him, though, because he is a hard animal to remember. He
is the only animal they had like him in the ark. They couldn't find two
of his sort, and I rather guess they are glad they couldn't, because his
appetite is simply dreadful, and the things he eats are most
embarrassing. He's the one your papa was telling you about last night
before you went to bed. Don't you remember the rhyme he told
you--beginning this way:
'The Parallelopipedon
I do not like, because
He has so many, many sides,
And ninety-seven claws'?"
"Oh, yes," replied Jimmieboy. "He is the same animal that----
'Hasn't got a bit of sense,
Or feather to his name;
No eye, no ear with which to hear,
But gets there just the same.'"
"That's it! that's it!" cried the colonel. "And don't you remember,
'There's not a thing he will not eat,
From pie to sealing-wax,
Although he shows a preference for
Red bricks and carpet tacks'?"
"Yes, I remember that very well now," said Jimmieboy. "Wasn't there a
verse about his color, too? Didn't it say:
'His color is a fearful one--
A combination hue
Of yellow, green, and purple, mixed
With solferino blue'?"
"No; that was the Parallelogram," replied the colonel. "A
Parallelopipedon is six times as bad as a Parallelogram. His color has a
verse about it, though, that says:
'His hue is the most terrible
That ever man has seen;
'Tis pink and saffron, blue and red,
Mixed up with apple green'."
"Dear me!" cried Jimmieboy. "And do you mean to say he's really got
away?"
"I do, indeed," returned the colonel. "Got away, and Noah is glad of it,
because he doesn't have to feed him any more. But it'll never do to let
him stay loose; he will do too much damage. Why, Jimmieboy, suppose he
should overeat himself and die? He's the only one in the world, and we
can't afford to lose an animal like that; besides, after he has ruined
all the country around the turn, it's just as like as not he'll begin on
the rest of the picture, and eat it all up, frame and all."
"My!" cried the little boy. "That would be terrible, wouldn't it! You
are right--he must be captured. I have half a mind to go along with you
and help."
"Half a mind isn't enough," retorted the colonel, shaking his head. "You
can't go into the soldier business unless you have a whole mind--so
good-by, Jimmieboy. I must be running along; and should I not return, as
the poet says,
'Pray do not weep for me, my boy,
But, as the years slip by,
Drop all your pennies in a bank--
Brave soldiers never die;
And some day I'll turn up again,
Exalted, high in rank,
And possibly I'll find some use
For that small sum in bank.'"
"I'm not going to stay here while you are fighting," said Jimmieboy,
with a determined shake of his head. "I've got a whole mind to go with
you, and a uniform to wear as well. But tell me, can I get up there on
the road?"
"Certainly," said the colonel. "I'll show you how, only put on your
uniform first. They won't let you go unless you are suitably dressed.
Little boys, with striped trousers like yours, would be out of place,
but with a uniform such as yours is, with real gold on the cap and brass
buttons on the coat--well, I'm not sure but what they'll elect you
water-carrier, or general, or something equally important."
So Jimmieboy hurried to his clothes-closet and quickly donned his
military suit, and grasping his sword firmly by the hilt, cried out:
"Ready!"
"All right," said the colonel. "They are waiting for us. Close your
eyes."
Jimmieboy did as he was told.
"One--two--three--eyes open!" cried the colonel.
Again Jimmieboy did as he was ordered, although he couldn't see why he
should obey the colonel, who up to this afternoon had been entirely
subject to his orders. He opened his eyes at the command, and, much to
his surprise, found himself standing in the middle of that wooded road
in the picture, beneath the arching trees, the leaves of which rustled
softly as a sweet perfumed breeze blew through the branches. About him
on every side were groups of tin soldiers talking excitedly about the
escape of the devastating Parallelopipedon, every man of them armed to
the teeth and eager for the colonel's command to start off on the search
expedition. The band was playing merrily under the trees up the road
near the little brook, and back in the direction from which he had come,
through the heavy gilt frame, Jimmieboy could see the nursery just as he
had left it, while before him lay the turn at the end of the wood and
the unknown country now soon to be explored.