_Of the Queer Feels that Came out of a Bottle of Castoria, and of
the Happiness of Larry and Jean._
The colic had the baby to-day, and there was no Castoria for the
pains; there was none because yesterday Pearl[1] and I climbed upon
a chair and then upon the dresser and drank up the new bottle of
Castoria; but the bottle had an ache in it and we swallowed the ache
with the Castoria. That gave us queer feels. Pearl lay down on the
bed. I did rub her head. But she said it was n’t her head--it was
her back that hurt. Then she said it was her leg that ached. The
mamma came in the house then, and she did take Pearl in a quick way
to the ranch-house.
[1] A foster-sister.
It was a good time for me to go away exploring, but I did n’t feel
like going on an exploration trip. I just sat on the doorstep. I did
sit there and hold my chin in my hand. I did have no longings to
print. I only did have longings not to have those queer feels. Brave
Horatius came walking by. He did make a stop at the doorstep. He
wagged his tail. That meant he wanted to go on an exploration trip.
Lars Porsena of Clusium came from the oak tree. He did perch on the
back of Brave Horatius. He gave two caws. That meant he wanted to
go on an exploration trip. Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus came from
under the house. He just crawled into my lap. I gave him pats and
he cuddled his nose up under my curls. Peter Paul Rubens did squeal
out in the pig-pen. He squealed the squeals he does squeal when he
wants to go on an exploration trip.
Brave Horatius did wait and wait, but still those queer feels would
n’t go away. Pretty soon I got awful sick. By-and-by I did have
better feels. And to-day my feels are all right and the mamma is gone
a-visiting and I am going on an exploration trip. Brave Horatius
and Lars Porsena of Clusium and Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus and
Peter Paul Rubens are waiting while I do print this. And now we are
going the way that does lead to the blue hills.
* * * * *
Sometimes I share my bread and jam with Yellowjackets, who have a
home on the bush by the road, twenty trees and one distant from the
garden. To-day I climbed upon the old rail fence close to their home
with a piece and a half of bread and jam and the half piece for them
and the piece for myself. But they all wanted to be served at once, so
it became necessary to turn over all bread and jam on hand. I broke
it into little pieces, and they had a royal feast there on the old
fence-rail. I wanted my bread and jam; but then Yellowjackets are
such interesting fairies, being among the world’s first paper-makers;
and baby Yellowjackets are such chubby youngsters. Thinking of these
things makes it a joy to share one’s bread and jam with these wasp
fairies.
When I was coming back from feeding them I heard a loud noise. That
Rob Ryder was out there by the chute, shouting at God in a very quick
way. He was begging God to dam that chute right there in our back
yard. Why, if God answered his prayer, we would be in an awful fix.
The house we live in would be under water, if God dammed the chute.
Now I think anger had Rob Ryder or he would not pray kind God to be
so unkind.
When I came again to the house we live in, the mamma was cutting out
biscuits with the baking-powder can. She put the pan of biscuits on
the wood-box back of the stove. She put a most clean dish-towel over
the biscuits, then she went to gather in clothes. I got a thimble
from the machine drawer. I cut little round biscuits from the big
biscuits. The mamma found me. She put the thimble back in the machine
drawer. She put me under the bed. Here under the bed I now print.
By-and-by, after a long time, the mamma called me to come out from
under the bed. She told me to put on my coat and her big fascinator
on my head. She fastened my coat with safety-pins, then she gave me
a lard-pail with its lid on tight. She told me to go straight to the
grandpa’s house for the milk, and to come straight home again. I
started to go straight for the milk. When I came near the hospital,
I went over to it to get the pet mouse, Felix Mendelssohn. I thought
that a walk in the fresh air would be good for his health. I took
one of the safety-pins out of my coat. I pinned up a corner of
the fascinator. That made a warm place next to my curls for Felix
Mendelssohn to ride in. I call this mouse Felix Mendelssohn because
sometimes he makes very sweet music.
Then I crossed to the cornfield. A cornfield is a very nice place,
and some days we children make hair for our clothes-pin dolls from
the silken tassels of the corn that grow in the grandpa’s cornfield.
Sometimes, which is quite often, we break the cornstalks in getting
the silk tassels. That makes bumps on the grandpa’s temper.
To-night I walked zigzag across the field to look for things. Into
my apron pocket I put bits of little rocks. By a fallen cornstalk I
met two of my mouse friends. I gave them nibbles of food from the
other apron pocket. I went on and saw a fat old toad by a clod. Mice
and toads do have such beautiful eyes. I saw two caterpillars on an
ear of corn after I turned the tassels back. All along the way I
kept hearing voices. Little leaves were whispering, “Come, petite
Françoise,” over in the lane. I saw another mouse with beautiful
eyes. Then I saw a man and woman coming across the field. The man
was carrying a baby.
Soon I met them. It was Larry and Jean and their little baby. They
let me pat the baby’s hand and smooth back its hair, for I do so
love babies. When I grow up I want twins and eight more children,
and I want to write outdoor books for children everywhere.
To-night, after Larry and Jean started on, I turned again to wave
good-bye. I remembered the first time I saw Larry and Jean, and the
bit of poetry he said to her. They were standing by an old stump in
the lane where the leaves whispered. Jean was crying. He patted her
on the shoulder and said:--
“There, little girl, don’t cry,
I’ll come back and marry you by-and-by.”
And he did. And the angels looking down from heaven saw their
happiness and brought a baby real soon, when they had been married
most five months; which was very nice, for a baby is such a comfort
and twins are a multiplication table of blessings. And Felix
Mendelssohn is yet so little a person, and the baby of Larry and
Jean is growed more big. On the day I did hear him say to her that
poetry--it was then I did find Felix Mendelssohn there in the lane
near to them. He was only a wee little mouse then. And every week
that he did grow a more week old, I just put one more gray stone in
the row of his growing. And there was nineteen more gray stones in
the row when the Angels did bring the dear baby to Larry and Jean
than there was stones in the row when they was married. And now there
are a goodly number more stones in the row of Felix Mendelssohn’s
weeks of growing old. I have feels that there will be friendship
between the dear mouse Felix Mendelssohn and the dear baby of Larry
and Jean. For by the stump where he did say that poetry to her was
the abiding place of Felix Mendelssohn when I did have finding of
him. This eventime he did snuggle more close by my curls. I have so
much likes for him. I did tell him that this night-time he is to
have sleeps close by. When we were gone a little way, I did turn
again to wave good-bye to the baby of Larry and Jean.
After I waved good-bye to the dear baby, I thought I’d go around by
the lane where I first saw them and heard him say to her that poetry.
It is such a lovely lane. I call it our lane. Of course, it does
n’t belong to Brave Horatius and Lars Porsena of Clusium and Thomas
Chatterton Jupiter Zeus and I and all the rest of us. It belongs to
a big man that lives in a big house, but it is our lane more than
it is his lane, because he does n’t know the grass and flowers that
grow there, and the birds that nest there, and the lizards that run
along the fence, and the caterpillars and beetles that go walking
along the roads made by the wagon wheels. And he does n’t stop to
talk to the trees that grow all along the lane.
All those trees are my friends. I call them by names I have given to
them. I call them Hugh Capet and Saint Louis and Good King Edward I;
and the tallest one of all is Charlemagne, and the one around where
the little flowers talk most is William Wordsworth, and there are
Byron and Keats and Shelley. When I go straight for the milk, I do
so like to come around this way by the lane and talk to these tree
friends. I stopped to-night to give to each a word of greeting. When
I got to the end of the lane, I climbed the gate and thought I had
better hurry straight on to get the milk.
When I went by the barn, I saw a mouse run around the corner and a
graceful bat came near unto the barn-door. I got the milk. It was near
dark time, so I came again home by the lane and along the corduroy
road. When I got most home, I happened to remember the mamma wanted
the milk in a hurry, so I began to hurry.
I don’t think I’ll print more to-night. I printed this sitting on
the wood-box, where the mamma put me after she spanked me after
I got home with the milk. Now I think I shall go out the bedroom
window and talk to the stars. They always smile so friendly. This
is a very wonderful world to live in.