HORATIO AND THE DOGS
[Illustration: Music]
"Blossom on the bough and bird on the limb--
Old Black Bear sits a-grinning at him;
[Illustration: Music]
Sawing on his fiddle and a-grinning at the jay--
Grinning as he saws the only tune that he can play."
HORATIO leaned back against the tree and played lazily. Bosephus lay
stretched full length on the leaves, following idly with any words that
happened to fit the strain. A blue jay just over their heads bobbed up
and down on a limber branch, waiting for them to go. The Bear took up
the song as the boy paused:--
"Boy on the bank and bird on the tree--
Bird keeps a-bobbing and a-blinking at me;
Bobbing and a-blinking, and a-waiting for a bite--
Hasn't had a thing to eat since late--last--night."
"I say, Ratio," interrupted Bo. "Suppose we move on and give Mr. Jay
Bird a chance?"
Horatio grunted and rose heavily. After their adventure with the Todd
family they had come to a pleasant spot in the woods by a clear stream
of water. Bo, who had some matches in his pocket, had kindled a fire and
roasted some of the corn, much to the disgust of Horatio, who disliked
fire and asked him why he didn't roast the watermelon, too, while he was
about it. Then they had eaten their breakfast together and taken a
brief rest before setting forth again on their travels. A jay bird was
waiting to peck the gnawed ears and melon rinds. He stared at the
strange pair as they strolled away through the trees, the Bear
continuing his favorite melody.
"Ratio," said Bo, pausing suddenly, "what is that I hear scurrying
through the bushes every now and then?"
"Friends of mine, likely."
"Friends! What friends?"
"Oh, everything, most. Wild cats, wolves, foxes and a few wild bears,
maybe."
"Wildcats! Bears! Wolves!"
"Why, yes. Often when I play in the moonlight they come out and dance
for me."
"Oh!" said Bo.
"I have them all dancing together, sometimes. I'll have them dance for
you before long."
"Oh, Ratio, will you?"
"Yes. It's a lot of fun, but there's no money in it, and that's what
we're after now, Bo. We're going to buy that swamp, you remember, and
start that bear colony."
Bosephus was about to reply when Horatio paused and listened. There was
the distant sound of dogs barking.
"Hello!" said Bo. "We're coming to somewhere. Now we'll give our first
regular performance. Come on, Ratio!"
Horatio hesitated.
"How many dogs do you suppose there are, Bo?" he asked anxiously.
"About a dozen, I should think, big and little."
"Little dogs, Bo? Little snapping dogs?"
"That's what it sounds like, and some hounds and a big dog or two. You
don't mind dogs, do you?"
[Illustration: "HELLO!" SAID BO, "WE'RE COMING TO SOMEWHERE."]
"Oh, no, not in the least--but it's most too soon after breakfast to
give a performance, and besides, all that noise would spoil the music."
But the little boy, who still had in his pocket the two candy hearts
that had been given to him by the Todd girls, walked ahead proudly.
"You trust to me!" he said, flourishing a large stick. "I'll stop their
noise pretty quick. I'm not afraid of dogs!"
The Bear followed some steps behind, looking ahead warily.
"I'm not afraid, either, you know," he said, anxiously. "Only when there
are so many of them they get me mixed up on my notes and one of them
once had the ill manners to nip quite a piece out of my left hind leg."
Presently they came into an open space and plump upon a little
crossroads village. A gang of dogs gambolled upon the common, chasing
stray geese and barking loudly. Horatio paused.
"Come back, Bo," he whispered. "There's no money in that crowd."
But Bosephus was already some distance ahead, stick in hand, and the
dogs had spied him. They ceased barking for a moment and two or three of
the larger ones ran away. Then the little dogs began yelping again and
came on in a swarm. Bo made at them with his stick, but they dodged past
him, and in a moment more were circling and snapping around Horatio, who
was waving his violin wildly with one paw and slapping like a man
killing mosquitoes with the other.
"Quick, Bo!" he shouted. "Quick! Help! Murder!"
The little boy wanted to laugh, but ran up instead and began striking
among the bevy of dogs that were torturing his friend. Some of them
howled and ran off a few paces. Then they came flocking back. Suddenly
Horatio thrust his violin into Bo's hand and ran swiftly toward a large
tree a few yards distant. The curs followed and jumped high into the air
after him as he scrambled up to the lower limbs.
Bosephus hurried after them and struck at them so fiercely with his club
that they ran yelping away. A number of villagers, attracted by the
commotion, were now appearing from all quarters.
"Here come the people, Ratio," said Bo, grinning. "Now we can perform."
"All right, Bo," whispered the Bear, "but if you'll kindly hand me up
that fiddle I believe I'll perform right where I am."
The boy passed up the violin and the Bear struck a few notes. By this
time the people had collected. There was a blacksmith with a leather
apron, and a painter with all colors of paint on his clothes. Behind
them there came a woman with dough on her hands and another carrying a
baby. Other men and women followed in the procession, and a dozen or so
children of all ages. They halted a little way from the tree and stood
staring. Horatio sat astride a big limb and commenced playing. Suddenly
the boy threw back his head and began to sing:--
"Oh, the dogs barked loud and the dogs barked low
And the boy stood still and the Bear climbed the tree,
At an Old Black Bear and a boy named Bo.
While the people came a-running to see what they could see."
The children drew up close at the first line and held their breath to
listen. As the boy paused they shouted and screamed with laughter at the
sight of Horatio fiddling in the forks of the tree. The dogs sat in a
row and howled plaintively.
"Sing some more," cried the woman with the baby; "it amuses my little
Joey."
[Illustration: BOSEPHUS HURRIED AFTER THEM AND STRUCK AT THEM.]
"Yes, the people came to see them and the dogs they ran away,
And the boy began to sing and the Bear began to play,
Till it tickled all the children and it made the baby crow,
And it set the people dancing till they jumped--Jim--Crow."
"More! more!" shouted the people as they formed into cotillons and
reels. "Sing us some more!"
[Illustration: Music]
"Oh, the ridy-diddle-diddle of Horatio and his fiddle,
And the singing of Bosephus they had never heard before;
[Illustration: Music]
And it set them all to spinning, and the music was so winning
That they wined them and they dined them until half past four!"
"Wait! wait!" called the woman with the baby under her arm, "I'm all out
of breath."
"No, no!" shouted the children and all the others. "Go on! Go on!"
So once more and yet another time the unwearied musicians repeated their
performance, and then Bo politely passed his hat to the dancers. When he
had been to each one his hat was heavy with some money and many useful
articles.
"Bring your Bear down out of the tree," said the blacksmith, "and we
will give you a feast on the common."
Bo beckoned to Horatio to climb down, but the big fellow hesitated.
The temptation of a feast, however, was too much for him.
[Illustration: ONCE MORE AND YET ANOTHER TIME.]
That night, when they had both danced again for the people and Horatio
had given them an acrobatic exhibition, they strolled away through the
evening loaded down with luxuries of all kinds. The villagers went with
them to the outskirts, and called good luck after them. As they passed
into the quiet shadows of the forest they once more heard the barking
of dogs in the distance behind them.
"We have had a good day, Bosephus," said Horatio, with a long sigh of
satisfaction. "We are on the road to fortune. To be sure, there are
little thorns along the way--"
"Dogs, for instance--and guns."
"Trifles, Bosephus; trifles. Don't give them a second thought. Of course
you are only a little boy as yet, and will outgrow these fears."
"And learn to climb trees."
"I hope you don't think I climbed that tree out of fear, Bosephus. I
merely went up there to get a better view of my audience. One should
always rise above his audience. And now let us sing softly together as
we go. It will rest us after our day of conquest."
And touching the strings lightly and singing softly together, the
friends sought leisurely their evening camp. Here and there a light
rustle in the bushes showed that the forest people were listening, and
the leaves of the forest whispered in time to their melody.