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MRS. DIAZ’S WRITINGS.
=THE KING’S LILY AND ROSEBUD.= Illustrated. 16mo $1.50
=THE WILLIAM HENRY LETTERS.= Illustrated. 16mo 1.50
=WILLIAM HENRY AND HIS FRIENDS.= Illustrated. 16mo, 1.50
=LUCY MARIA.= Illustrated. 16mo 1.50
=A STORY-BOOK FOR YOUNG FOLKS.= Illustrated. 16mo, 1.50
=THE SCHOOLMASTER’S TRUNK.= Papers on Home Life.
Illustrated. 16mo Paper, 50 cts.; cloth, 1.00
=A DOMESTIC PROBLEM.= 16mo. Paper, 50 cts.; cloth, 1.00
⁂_For sale by all Booksellers. Sent, postpaid, on receipt of price,
by_
JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.,
CATHEDRAL BUILDING, WINTHROP SQUARE,
Boston.
[Illustration: “HOW EASY SHE GOES!”—See p. 17.]
THE
JIMMYJOHNS,
AND OTHER STORIES.
BY
MRS. A. M. DIAZ,
AUTHOR OF “THE WILLIAM HENRY LETTERS,” “LUCY MARIA,” ETC.
Illustrated.
[Illustration: Decoration]
BOSTON:
JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY,
(Late TICKNOR & FIELDS, and FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO.)
1878.
COPYRIGHT, 1877, BY
JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY,
117 FRANKLIN STREET,
BOSTON.
CONTENTS.
THE JIMMYJOHNS:— Page.
I. A Morning with the Jimmyjohns 11
II. The Sad Fate of “Polly Cologne” 18
III. An Account of the Jimmyjohns’ Little Affair
with the Gulls 26
IV. The Jimmyjohns’ Sailor-Suits 35
V. A Leaf from a Little Girl’s Diary 46
VI. A Little Girl’s Story 50
VII. The Bad Luck of Bubby Cryaway 57
VIII. What made Mr. Tompkins laugh 66
IX. Mr. Tompkins’s Small Story 76
FLOWERS WAKING UP 80
THE LITTLE PULLWINGER’S DREAM 85
HOW THE BARN CAME FROM JORULLO 95
A POTATO STORY WHICH BEGINS WITH A BEAN-POLE 107
THE WAY MRS. MACGARRET’S TEA-PARTY WAS BROKEN UP 110
GETTING UP IN THE WORLD 114
THE STORY OF FLORINDA 118
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT 134
A LITTLE GUESS-STORY 147
THE LITTLE BEGGAR-GIRL 152
WIDE-AWAKE 169
REASONS WHY THE COW TURNED HER HEAD AWAY 173
TWO LITTLE ROGUES 179
THE BELATED BUTTERFLY 182
THE MAPLE-TREE’S CHILDREN 186
THE WHISPERER 189
A STRANGER IN PILGRIM-LAND, AND WHAT HE SAW 191
DRAMAS AND DIALOGUES:—
The Gypsies.—A May-Day Drama 205
A December Charade.—(Farewell.) 221
The Little Visitors.—A Play for Young Children 233
The Bird Dialogue 242
Shopping.—A Dialogue for the very Little Ones 250
May-Day Indoors; or, The Yotopski Family’s Rehearsal 255
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Page.
“HOW EASY SHE GOES!” 2
JOEY MOONBEAM, DOROTHY BEESWAX, BETSEY GINGER,
AND POLLY COLOGNE 22
THE JIMMYJOHNS AND THE GULLS 33
“THE LITTLE BOYS, HALF CRYING, HELD FAST BY THE
SIDES OF THE BOAT” 43
JOEY MOONBEAM’S NEW HAT 47
“OVER WENT THE BARREL, AND OVER WENT HE” 63
FLOWERS WAKING UP 80
THE BARREL-MAN LOOKING AT HIS POSSESSIONS 93
THE BARREL-MAN CUTS THE BRANCHES, AND THE OWNER COMPLAINS 97
THE HORSES AND THE OXEN APPEAR IN SIGHT 101
THE FOURTEEN HUNGRY MEN SIT AROUND THE TABLE 105
“A-SHAKING THEIR CORN-POPPERS OVER THE COALS” 135
THE CAT THAT CAUGHT THE RAT 137
THE DOG THAT WAS TOSSED 138
THE COW WITH THE CRUMPLED HORN 139
THE MAIDEN ALL FORLORN 140
THE MAN ALL TATTERED AND TORN 142
“GOOD-MORROW, SIR PRIEST! WILL YOU MARRY US TWO?” 145
THE LITTLE BEGGAR-GIRL 153
“NOW I’LL PULL UP; NOW I’M ALMOST UP” 171
“TAKE THIS WISP OF HAY” 174
“FOREFATHERS’ ROCK” 196
INDIAN DOLL 200
THE JIMMYJOHNS, AND OTHER STORIES.
THE JIMMYJOHNS.
CHAPTER I.
A MORNING WITH THE JIMMYJOHNS.
A pretty brown cottage, so small that the vines have no need to hurry
themselves in climbing over it, but take plenty of time to creep
along the eaves, to peep in at the windows, and even to stop and
weave bowers over the doorways. Two “Baldwin” trees shade one end of
the cottage, a silver-oak the other. In its rather narrow front-yard
grow damask rose-bushes, sweet syringas, and a snowball-tree.
In one corner of this front-yard a running-rose, called a “pink
prairie-rose,” climbs to the cottage-roof, where it has delightful
times with the honeysuckle and woodbine. On either side, and round
about and far away, lie broad green meadows, apple-orchards, fields
of waving corn, and many a sloping, sunny hill-side, on which the
earliest wild flowers bloom. Ah! it must be a pleasant thing to
live where one can watch the fields grow yellow with dandelions
and buttercups, or white with daisies, or pink with clover; where
sweet-scented honeysuckles peep in at one window, roses at another,
and apple-blossoms at another; where birds sing night and morning,
and sometimes all the day.
Between the hours of seven and eight, one lovely morning in June,
there might have been seen, turning the corner of Prairie-rose
Cottage, two travellers on horseback, each of whom carried a
huckleberry-basket on his arm. These two travellers were of just the
same age,—four years and ten months. The horses they rode were of
the kind called _saw-horses_, or, as some call them, _wood-horses_.
Both names are correct, because they are made of _wood_, and wood is
placed upon them to be _sawed_.
Our young travellers were twin-brothers, and were named—the one,
Jimmy Plummer; the other, Johnny Plummer. They were dressed exactly
alike, and they looked exactly alike. Both had chubby cheeks,
twinkling eyes, small noses, and dark, curly hair. Both wore
gray frocks belted round with leather belts, and both belts were
clasped with shining buckles. Their collars were white as snow.
Their trousers were short, leaving off at the knee, where they were
fastened with three gilt buttons. Their stockings were striped, pink
and gray; the gray stripe being much wider than the pink. Their boots
were button-boots. Their hats were of speckled straw; and in the
hat-band of each was stuck a long, narrow, greenish feather, which
looked exactly like a rooster’s feather. Their whip-handles were
light blue, wound round with strips of silver tinsel; and at the end
of each lash was a snapper. Their bridles were pieces of clothes-line.
The _travellers_ were bound to Boston, so they said, to buy oranges.
It was hard work to make those horses of theirs go over the
ground. There isn’t very much _go_ in that kind of horse: they are
sure-footed, but not swift. But there was a great deal of _make go_
in the two travellers. They jerked that span of horses, they pushed
them, they pulled them, they made them rear up, they tumbled off
behind, they tumbled off the sides, they pitched headforemost, but
still did not give up; and at last came to Boston, which was, so they
made believe, on the outside cellar-door.
And, as they were playing on the cellar-door, the funny man came
along, and began to feel in his pockets to see what he could find.
“Halloo, Jimmyjohns!” he cried. “Don’t you want something?”
Jimmy and Johnny Plummer were best known in the neighborhood as “the
Jimmyjohns.” And it seemed very proper their being called by one
name; for they looked, if not just like one boy, like the same boy
twice over, so that some members of their own family could hardly
tell them apart. They were always together: what one did the other
did, and what one had the other had. If one asked for pudding four
times, the other asked for pudding four times; and when one would
have another spoonful of sauce, so would the other. And it was quite
wonderful, everybody said, that, in playing together, they were never
known to quarrel. People often tried to guess which was Jimmy, and
which was Johnny; but very few guessed rightly.
The funny man felt in every one of his pockets, and found—a piece of
chalk. The Jimmyjohns laughed. They had seen him feel in every one
of his pockets before, and knew that nothing better than chalk, or
buttons, or tack-nails, would come out of them.
“Now,” said the funny man, “I’m going to guess which is Jimmy, and
which is Johnny. No, I can’t guess. But I’ll tell you what I will do.
I’ll turn up a cent. There it goes. See here: if it turns up _head_,
this sitting-down boy’s Jimmy; _tail_, he’s Johnny. Now then. Pick
it up out of the grass. _Head?_ Yes, _head_. Then this sitting-down
boy’s Jimmy. Right? Are you sitting-down boy Jimmy?”
“No, sir. Johnny.”
“Johnny? How do you know you are Johnny?”
Johnny laughed, looked down, turned up the corner of his frock,
and showed there a bit of red flannel, about the size of a red
peppermint, stitched on the wrong side. Mrs. Plummer, it seems, had
put red flannel peppermints on Johnny’s clothes, and blue flannel
peppermints on Jimmy’s, so that each could tell his own.
The funny man passed on, but had hardly gone ten steps before he
turned, and said to the Jimmyjohns, “Why don’t you go a-rowing?” They
answered, because they had no boat. He told them Dan took a tub for
a boat. Then they said they had no water. The funny man was just at
that moment stepping over the fence; but he answered back, speaking
very loud, “_Dan plays grass is water_.”
The Jimmyjohns looked at each other.
“Ask him what _oars_ Dan takes,” said Johnny.
“You ask him too,” said Jimmy.
So they called out both together, “What _oars_ does Dan take?” And
then, the funny man being by that time far along the road, they
scampered to the fence, scrambled up, leaned over the top-rail, and
shouted loud as they could, “_What oars does Dan take?_”
The funny man turned, held one hand to one ear to catch
the sounds, and shouted back, speaking one word at a time,
“_Can’t—hear—what—you—say!_”
“_What—oars—does_—DAN—T-A-K-E?” bawled the Jimmyjohns, holding on to
the last word as long as their breath lasted.
“_Takes—brooms! Dan—takes_—BROOMS!” the funny man bawled back; then
walked away quite fast.
“Cluck, cluck, cluck! Cluck, cluck, cluck! Cluckerty cluck!”
That was what it sounded like; but in reality it was pretty Banty
White saying to her chickens, “Hurry back! Danger! Boys! Dreadful
danger!”
Madam Banty White kept house under a tub at the back of the house;
and it was her tub which was going to be the boat.
“Over she goes!” cried Jimmy, giving it a knock.
“Cluck, cluck, cluck! Cluck, cluck, cluck! Cluckerty cluck!” clucked
Madam Banty. “Run for your lives! For your lives!”
“Sister, sister, sister!” shouted the Jimmyjohns.
Annetta Plummer, six years old and almost seven, was often called
“Sister,” and sometimes “Sissy Plummer.” Hearing the shouts, _sister_
ran to the window, calling out, “What do you want, you little
Jimmies?”
Then curly-headed, three-years-old Effie trotted to the window, stood
on her tiptoes, and shouted with her cunning voice, “What oo want, oo
ittle Dimmeys?”
“Throw down two brooms. Quick’s you can!”
“Little boys must say ‘Please,’” said Annetta.
“Ittel—boys—say—‘Pease,’” repeated Effie.
“_Please, please, please, please!_” shouted the Jimmies. Then, “Oh,
dear! Oh! ma! Oh, dear! Ma! ma! Oh! Oh, dear! oh, dear!” in quite a
different tone.
All the people came running to the window. “Who’s hurt? What’s the
matter? Oh, they’ve tumbled down! they’ve tumbled down!”
The flour-barrel was at the bottom of it all. In their hurry to get
the brooms, the Jimmies climbed on a flour-barrel which lay upon its
side. It rolled over, and they rolled over with it. It is plain,
therefore, that the flour-barrel was at the bottom of it all.
The poor Jimmyjohns cried bitterly, and the tears ran streaming down.
Still they were not hurt badly, and the crying changed to kissing
much sooner than usual. To explain what this means, it must be told,
that when the Jimmies were little toddling things, just beginning
to walk, they were constantly tumbling down, tipping over in their
cradle, or bumping heads together; and Mrs. Plummer found that
the best way to stop the crying at such times was to turn it into
_kissing_. The reason of this is very plain. In crying, the mouth
flies open; in kissing, it shuts. Mrs. Plummer was a wonderful woman.
She found out that shutting the mouth would stop its crying, and to
shut the mouth she contrived that pretty _kissing_ plan, and at the
first sound of a _bump_ would catch up the little toddlers, put their
arms round each other’s necks, and say, “Kiss Johnny, Jimmy; kiss
Jimmy, Johnny.” And that was the way the habit began. They had not
quite outgrown it; and it was enough to make anybody laugh to see
them, in the midst of a crying spell, run toward each other, their
cheeks still wet with tears, and to see their poor little twisted,
crying mouths trying to shut up into a kiss.
But now must be told the sad fate of Banty White’s tub. Alas for poor
Banty! Nevermore will she gather chicks under its roof.
Mrs. Plummer, it seems, allowed the Jimmies to take her third-best
broom and the barn broom to row with.
“Let’s go way over there, where there’s some good grass,” said Jimmy.
“So I say,” said Johnny. “How shall we get her over?”
“Take the reins,” said Jimmy.
“Oh, yes! so I say,” said Johnny.
The _reins_ were then taken from the _horses_, and tied to one
tub-handle. The brooms were tied to the other tub-handle, and so
dragged behind. The Jimmies hoisted the tub over the fence into
the field of “good grass,” squeezed themselves inside, put the
broom-handles through the tub-handles, and began to row.
After rowing a while, and finding “she didn’t go any,” they thought
they would try to find Dan, and ask him how he “made her go.” So the
tub was hoisted over the fence again, and the brooms tied on for
another pull. Both took hold of the reins; and then away they ran
along the road, up hills and down hills, to find Dan.
“How easy she goes!” cried Johnny at last as they were rounding a
corner.
Both turned to look, and, oh! what did they see? Alas! what did they
see?—two hoops, pieces of wood scattered along the road, and the
brooms far behind. The tub had fallen apart, and the hoops that bound
it were rolling away.
The brothers Plummer stood still and gazed. It was all they could do.
“And now won’t it be a tub any more?” Johnny asked at last very
soberly.
“I—don’t—I _guess_ so,” said Jimmy. “Maybe pa can tub it up again.”
Each boy took an armful of the pieces (leaving one that neither of
them saw), hung a hoop over his shoulder, and in this manner turned
to go home, dragging the brooms behind.
But, finding themselves quite near aunt Emily’s, they went that way,
and made a call at the house. And very good reasons they had for
doing so. One reason was a puppy; one reason was a gold-fish; but the
sweetest reason of all was aunt Emily’s gingerbread.