STORIES.
A few afternoons after this, when Royal came down stairs from the room
where he was accustomed to study, he saw Lucy walking away from the
house, with a little parcel in her hand.
Lucy turned round, but she continued moving,--walking now, however,
backwards; and she said with a tone of voice expressive of great
pleasure,--
“I am going of an errand, Royal, all by myself. I am going of an
errand, and a good long errand too.”
Lucy was so young, that she had been very seldom, if ever, before
employed to go of errands; and she was very much pleased that her
mother had intrusted her with one now.
“I’ll go with you, Lucy,” said Royal.
“No,” said Lucy, “I don’t want you to go with me. I must go all alone
by myself.” Lucy thought that having a companion like Royal would
detract somewhat from the credit that she would deserve by going alone.
“But, Lucy,” said Royal, “I won’t trouble you at all; and, besides,
I’ll show you the way.”
But Lucy did not wish to have the way shown to her. One great part
of the pleasure which she took in the expedition was in the idea of
finding the way herself.
Lucy kept walking along backwards all this time, and was just upon the
point of turning round again, when her foot stuck the upper part of a
long and large root, which ran from one of the trees which grew near
the sidewalk, and the course of which was so near to the surface of the
ground, that the upper part of it rose a little above the path. Royal
had just time to say, “There you go,” when Lucy fell over upon the
grass.
Although it was in the walk, still it was a grassy place, for the walk
was not much travelled; so that Lucy was hurt only a very little. She
began to cry; but, perceiving that it was not necessary in such a case,
she stopped just as Royal came up to her.
“There, Lucy, I told you that you were not big enough to go alone.”
Royal did wrong to say this; for Lucy had not boasted improperly of her
age and powers, but only expressed a pleasure which it was very proper
that she should feel at being intrusted by her mother with a mark of
increased confidence in her strength and intelligence. Besides, even if
Lucy had been vaingloriously boasting, her fall ought to have protected
her from taunts; for whenever people are led into difficulty by their
errors, the pain they feel is punishment enough. They do not need our
reproaches.
However, though Royal at first accosted Lucy in a harsh manner, he soon
changed his tone, and went to help her up. He smoothed her dress, and
picked up her parcel, and gave it to her; for it had been thrown off up
against the tree by the concussion.
“Lucy,” said he, “I’m sorry that you fell down; but you had better let
me go along with you, to take care of you, and help you up if you fall
down again.”
“No,” said Lucy, “I want to go and do the errand myself alone. I shall
not fall down, if you are not behind me to talk to me, and make me turn
round and walk backwards.”
Royal perceived that he had been the cause of Lucy’s fall; so he said
no more upon that subject, but only added,--
“Well, Lucy, since you won’t let me go with you, just sit down here
a few minutes on the grass, and tell me where you are going, and all
about it.”
“No,” said Lucy, “I must not stop to play or sit down by the way, when
I am going of errands,--only I am going to stop half an hour at Mary
Jay’s.”
“Then you are going to Mary Jay’s,” said Royal.
“Yes,” answered Lucy, “to carry this book.”
While they had been talking thus, they had both been slowly advancing
along the path.
“Well, Lucy,” said Royal, “it does not do any harm for me to walk along
with you like this. I will keep a little behind you, and so let you
find the way yourself; and then you shall do the errand to Mary Jay,
all alone. I won’t speak a word.”
By these and similar persuasions Lucy was induced, at last, to allow
Royal to accompany her; and they walked along together.
“Now,” said Royal, after they had been walking along together a little
while,--“Now, Lucy, I’ll tell you about the different kinds of stories.”
“Well,” said Lucy, “I should like to hear very much.”
“First,” said Royal, “there are _true_ stories.”
“Yes,” said Lucy, “and I like true stories very much.”
“Next, there are _probable_ stories. The things did not really happen,
but there is nothing in them but what might have happened well enough.”
“Now tell me a probable story,” said Lucy.
“Well,” said Royal. “Once there was a boy who had a cat,--a beautiful
Malta cat. He tied a pink ribbon around her neck for a collar.”
“O Royal,” said Lucy, “I never heard of a _cat_ with a collar.”
“No,” replied Royal; “they generally put collars upon dogs; but this
boy had no dog, and so he put a collar on his cat.”
“What was his name?” asked Lucy.
“His name was--George;--no, Jeremiah,” said Royal, correcting himself.
“How came you to say it was George first?” asked Lucy.
“Why, first,” replied Royal, “I thought I would have him named George;
but then I thought that would not be so good a name; and so I changed
it to Jeremiah.”
“But, Royal,” said Lucy, “I want to know what his real name was.”
“Why, he had no real name,” answered Royal, “only what I give him.”
“Why, isn’t it a true story?”
“No,” said Royal, “certainly not; this is only a probable story. I have
to make it up as I go along.”
“O,” said Lucy. “Very well,--only I was thinking that it was true.”
“The boy,” continued Royal, “taught his cat to follow him like a dog.
He would walk down into the fields and woods, and the cat would follow
him all about. Sometimes she would climb up to the tops of the trees,
trying to catch squirrels.”
“And could she catch them?” asked Lucy.
“No, indeed,” said Royal, in reply; “they were a great deal too nimble
for her. Besides, they were light, and she was heavy; and so they could
run out upon the light and slender branches, where she could not go.
Once, she went out after one, and the branch was so slender, that it
bent away down, and she came tumbling down upon Jeremiah’s shoulders.”
Here Lucy and Royal stopped to have a good laugh at this idea, which
Lucy seemed to consider very amusing.
“But Jeremiah caught a great many _mice_ with his cat,” said Royal,
“although he could not catch squirrels. He caught field mice, in the
grass. He would walk about, and whenever he saw a mouse, he would call,
‘Here, Merry Merry, Merry!’”
“What did he mean by that?” asked Lucy.
“Why, he meant his cat,” replied Royal; “her name was Merry.”
“And would Merry come?” asked Lucy.
“Yes,” said Royal, “she would come running along, with her red collar
about her neck, and the large bow-knot under her chin.”
“You did not tell me any thing about the bow-knot before,” said Lucy.
“No,” said Royal; “I just thought it would be a good plan to have a
bow-knot.”
“Well, what else?” said Lucy.
“When the boy found that he could teach his cat so much, he concluded
that he would teach her to sail on a board, in the little pond;--for
you must understand that there was a little pond behind his father’s
house. So, in order to teach her, he used to feed her at first very
near the water; then on the board, which he would place every day more
and more on the water. At last he taught her to go on eating a piece of
meat while the board was sailing about the pond; and finally she would
lie quietly on the board, when she had not any thing to eat, and so
let him sail her all about the water. He made a board of the shape of
the deck of a vessel, and put two masts into it; and he fastened a long
string to the bows, and he would take hold of the end of this string
himself, standing on the shore. When his cat was sailing, he used to
call her Captain Merry of the ship Floater. She looked beautifully when
she was sailing, sitting up straight, with her face towards the bows,
her tail curled round to one side, and the beautiful bow-knot under her
chin.”
Here Lucy clapped her hands, and seemed much delighted with the picture
which Royal thus presented to her imagination.
“Besides,” said Royal, “Merry’s red collar was useful as well as
beautiful; for, after a while, the mice in the field were all terribly
afraid when they saw any thing red; and so Jeremiah just scattered a
parcel of red rags about, and that frightened them all away.”
Here Royal and Lucy made the road ring with long and loud peals of
laughter. When their glee, however, had in some measure subsided, Lucy
said,--
“And is that what you call a _probable_ story, Royal?”
“Why--yes,” said Royal, with some hesitation, “all except frightening
the mice away. I don’t think that is very probable. But all the rest
is; for a boy might very easily put a red ribbon around his cat’s
neck for a collar, and then he might teach her to sail on a board, by
managing kindly and carefully. But as for frightening away all the mice
by red rags, I think myself that that was rather extravagant.”
“And now, Royal,” said Lucy, “tell me an extravagant story.”
“Well,” said Royal. “Once there were some chimney swallows who built
their nests in a great hollow tree. They thought it was a chimney.”
“O Royal,” said Lucy, “they would know, because it was not square.”
“No,” said Royal, “not at all. Chimney swallows don’t understand
geometry.”
“What is geometry?” asked Lucy.
“Why, it is about squares and rounds, and all other shapes. Chimney
swallows don’t know any thing about it.”
“I should think,” said Lucy, “that, if they could see at all, they
could tell whether any thing was square or round.”
“Besides,” said Royal, “some chimneys are round, and perhaps these
swallows thought that this was a round chimney. At any rate, they
built their nests in it, and found that it was a very good place.
“By and by,” continued Royal, “there came two large gray squirrels, and
they built a nest in a small hole pretty near the bottom of the tree,
about as high as a man’s head. The hole went in above a branch, and was
just big enough for the squirrels to creep in. And it was large enough
inside to hold ever so many nuts and acorns.”
“Wasn’t the tree all hollow, from top to bottom?” said Lucy.
“No,” replied Royal, “only a small place at the top, where it had been
broken off by the lightning. That let the rain in, and rotted it down
some way; but the bottom of the tree was large and strong.
“So the squirrels and the chimney swallows lived here in peace for some
time. At last there came a great monkey, and he climbed up into the
middle of the tree, and held on there by his tail.”
“By his tail!” said Lucy.
“Yes; he curled his tail around a branch, and so held on while he
gathered nuts.”
“Were there any nuts on the tree?” asked Lucy.
“Yes,” replied Royal, “monstrous great nuts, as big as my fist,--and
very sweet. Well, one of the squirrels, when he saw the monkey, went up
and said, ‘Monkey, this is our tree.’
“But the monkey begged the squirrel to let him stay. He said that, if
they would, he would do them some favor, some day or other. So the
squirrel let him stay.
“By and by, a man came along through the woods with an axe; and he went
up to look at this tree. He concluded that he would cut it down. So he
began to take off his coat.
“The squirrel came out of his hole, and crept around the back side of
the tree, where the man could not see him, and said to the monkey,
‘Monkey, there is a man going to cut down our tree.’
“‘Ah!’ said the monkey; ‘well, I’m pretty cunning; I can contrive
some way to drive him off. Do you go up and tell the swallows while I
think.’ So the squirrel went up and told the swallows, and they all
came down; and then the other squirrel and all the little squirrels
came up, and gathered around the monkey in the middle of the tree. He
then told them what to do. He told the swallows to fly off softly,
and one by one, into the neighboring trees. Then he told the two old
squirrels and all the little squirrels to creep down to the branches
that were directly over the man’s head. Then he said that he would
break off a great many branches, and have them all ready; and when he
gave the signal, the birds must all fly together about his ears, making
as loud a chirping as they could, and the squirrels must jump down upon
his head, and he would throw his branches down, and then come tumbling
down himself with a prodigious noise and chattering; and all that, he
thought, would frighten the man away.”
“And did they do so?” asked Lucy.
“Yes,” replied Royal. “The monkey gave the signal, and they all came
upon the man together,--branches, birds, squirrels, and monkey,--and
with such a screaming, chirruping, chattering, and fluttering, that the
man was frightened away out of the woods; and he did not dare to come
back until the next day, even to get his coat.”
Lucy smiled a little at this ingenious plan formed by the monkey, and
then, after a moment’s pause, she asked,--
“Is that an extravagant story, Royal?”
“Yes,” said Royal, “I think that is extravagant enough.”
“Well,” rejoined Lucy, “I like it pretty well.
“And now have you told me all the kinds of stories?”
“Yes, I believe so,” replied Royal.
“No,” added Lucy, “you have not told me any _true_ story. Just tell me
one true story, and that will be all.”
“Well,” replied Royal, “let me consider.--Well. Once there was a little
girl, and she was going of an errand for her mother.”
“What was her name?” asked Lucy.
“O, never mind about her name,” said Royal. “She was going of an errand
to carry a book.”
“That’s just like _my_ errand,” said Lucy.
“After she had set out,” continued Royal, “her brother came and called
to her, and she turned round to speak to him. While she was speaking to
him, she kept walking on backwards.”
“Why, that’s me, Royal. I verily believe you are telling about me.”
“And she tripped over a root, and tumbled down,” continued Royal.
“It is nobody but me,” said Lucy, “I know, and I don’t want to hear
that.”
“But that is a true story, and you said, before I began, that you liked
true stories the best.”
“Well, I don’t,” said Lucy; “I like the extravagant stories the best.”
By this time, Lucy and Royal reached Mary Jay’s, and Lucy went in to do
her errand, while Royal walked around behind the house to see the water
post, which is described in the book called LUCY AT STUDY.