_The sun came climbing up the hills
As red as red could be,
And not a leaf was moving on
Any shrub or tree;
The little birds forgot to sing,
The winds forgot to roam;
"There's nothing to do," said Buddy Jim,
"But stay around at home."_
Just then Old Bob the gardener came along, mopping his brow with his
old, red bandana handkerchief which he wore tied around his neck, like
a cowboy in a wild west movie.
"O Bob," said Buddy Jim, "Isn't it hot? I don't feel as though I'd
_ever_ be cool again!"
"It is, _so_," said Old Bob the gardener, "for the last week in June,
it is about as hot as I've ever seen it; you look a bit peaked, Son,
seems to me," said he, sympathetically, "has the heat got hold of you?"
"Oh, I don't think so, Bob," said the little fellow. "But it just seems
as though there were not a thing in the world to _do_!"
"Old Dog Sandy seems a bit tuckered out, too," said Old Bob the
gardener. Old Dog Sandy, stretched out flat under a lilac bush, didn't
bother to open his eyes. He just thumped the ground feebly with his
tail. It was too hot to _move_, if one didn't have to, but one must
always be polite!
"Now let's see," said Old Bob the gardener, "there _should_ be
something that a boy could do on a hot day, and get some fun out of it?
Can you swim?"
"Some," said Buddy Jim. "I learned in the pool at the gymnasium, at
home--I mean in the city."
"_Pool!_" said Old Bob the gardener, contemptuously, "run and get your
bathing suit and I'll take you down to the old swimming hole, where I
used to swim when I was your age, and where I've been swimming every
year since! I think I would enjoy a swim myself, this morning," he
added. Buddy Jim forgot all about the weather, but went tearing like a
small whirl-wind to Mother, asking _where_ was his bathing suit, and
hopping excitedly around until she had found it. He was so enthusiastic
that he could hardly wait until Old Bob the gardener had found his
own suit and was ready to go. Even Old Dog Sandy waked up and decided
to go along, and it was a happy little procession which went, Indian
file, along the narrow path which led through the alder bushes to the
swimming hole.
Someone who loved boys must have made that swimming hole. The sand had
been scooped out from the bed of the brook, and used to make a fine,
wide beach; the brook had been made deeper and wider, and a big old
tree had been felled in just the right place for a clean, high dive.
The alders grew thickly around the beach, and made the nicest dressing
room imaginable, and very soon, all three, the old man, the little boy,
and the old dog were splashing happily around in the cool water.
Old Bob the gardener taught Buddy Jim many things that he had not
learned at the gymnasium; how to tread water like a dog, how to keep
his eyes open under water, and how to lie on his back and just float;
it was great fun, and they were soon as cool as though jolly old Mr.
Sun had not tried to see how hot he could _make_ a day in June.
After awhile Old Bob the gardener said that they had been in the water
long enough for one day, and that he had some work to do, and must go
back, but Buddy Jim said that he was going to stay and lie on the beach
for a while; it was cooler there.
Old Bob the gardener said, all right, if he wouldn't go in the water
alone, because he couldn't yet swim well enough to go in alone, and
Buddy Jim promised that he would not. Old Bob knew that when Buddy said
he would do a thing, that it was just as good as done, because he was
very careful to _always_ keep his word. Mother said that a real man
always did. And Buddy Jim meant to be a _real_ man.
It was so cool and comfy there under the alder bushes that Buddy Jim
fell fast asleep, and then he was aware of voices, and that Old Dog
Sandy was grumbling and complaining that "a fellow never could get
forty winks, but that _someone_ had to chatter and wake him up."
"Lie down, Sandy," whispered Buddy Jim, "and keep quiet." The old dog
obeyed, though he did not want to, and Buddy Jim _crawled_ quietly over
towards the voices and lay _very_ still until they began again.
"I saw it first," said a queer lispy little voice. It was not a very
good-natured sounding voice either.
"Why the very idea," said a calm, quiet, little voice, "how can you say
so, when we were already here when you arrived? _We_ saw it first, and
we intend to keep it; isn't that so, Brother?"
"Of course," answered another little voice, "that's what we intend to
do. You go and find another nest if you are hungry."
"No, no," lisped the first voice, "this nest is mine and I'm going to
have it."
"Well now, Mrs. Garter Snake," said the first little voice, "you know
well enough it's no good wrangling; we are not going to give up our
rights to you; finding's keepings; anyway Mrs. Snapping Turtle lays so
many eggs that very likely there will be some left, after we have had
enough, and we don't mind sharing them with you; you are quite welcome
to what we cannot use."
"All right," said Mrs. Garter Snake, "go on and dig them out, then,
because I want to get back home to my children."
Buddy Jim crawled a bit nearer to see if he could discover who the
little neighbors were who were not a bit afraid of Mrs. Garter Snake.
They were very pretty Little Neighbors indeed, in cool-looking
black-and-white suits and they were as frisky as kittens. It was only
the work of a moment for them to dig open Mrs. Snapping Turtle's nest
in the sand, where she had trustingly laid her eggs to be hatched out
by kind Mr. Sun while she was cool and happy in the bed of the brook,
or swam around catching frogs for her dinner.
It did not take them long to eat their lunch, either, and when they
were no longer hungry, they ran away together, laughing, leaving what
was left of the eggs to Mrs. Garter Snake, who immediately ate them and
then rustled away out of sight among the bushes.
"I guess that's the last of Mrs. Snapping Turtle's children," said
Buddy Jim as he dressed, "it does seem too bad, that her eggs are all
lost, but she could not expect anything else to happen. Let's go,
Sandy," he called to the old dog.
Old Dog Sandy made believe that he didn't hear; he knew that the Little
Neighbors must live somewhere near, and he wished very much to call on
them; they had spoiled his nap, and he wanted to give them a chance to
apologize.
"Come along, Sandy," said his little master, who knew his tricks, "I
know what you want to do; you want to find our Little Neighbors, and
you know I do not allow _that_!"
After lunch Buddy Jim went out to the tool house to find Old Bob
the gardener. "Feel better, Son?" asked the old man kindly. "I feel
fine, Bob, thank you," said the little fellow, "but I want to ask
you something. Who were the Little Neighbors that I saw digging Mrs.
Snapping Turtle's eggs out of the sand this morning? They were black
and white and looked something like Peter the Prowler, only much
prettier. Old Dog Sandy wanted to go after them," he added, "but I made
him keep away."
Old Bob the gardener laughed. "It's a good thing for him that you did,"
said he, "and for all the rest of us, too; that was Brother and Sister
Skunk!"
"_Why_ is it a good thing, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "They were just as
good-natured as could be, and generous also; they let Mrs. Garter Snake
have part of the eggs."
"O yes, they're _generous_," said Old Bob the gardener, "and easy to
get along with, too, if you let them alone; I hope Old Dog Sandy was
not enough interested in them to go back and try to find them, because,
in the matter of perfume, now, they're _more_ than generous."
"O yes," said Buddy Jim, laughing, "Now I remember!"
But Old Dog Sandy didn't remember; he just couldn't forget; and he told
himself that he knew the way back there, and that no black-and-white
kitteny looking things like that could wake him up without explaining
why; and _some_ day,--_well_ they'd _see_.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: "I don't see any Joke"]
[Illustration]