"Boo!" said something.
And Jimmieboy of course was startled. So startled was he that, according
to his own statement, he jumped ninety-seven feet, though for my own
part I don't believe he really jumped more than thirty-three. He was too
sleepy to count straight anyhow. He had been lolling under his canvas
tent down near the tennis-court all the afternoon, getting lazier and
lazier every minute, and finally he had turned over square on his back,
put his head on a small cushion his mamma had made for him, closed his
eyes, and then came the "Boo!"
"I wonder--" he said, as he gazed about him, seeing no sign of any
creature that could by any possibility say "Boo!" however.
"Of course you do. That's why I've come," interrupted a voice from the
bushes. "More children of your age suffer from the wonders than from
measles, mumps, or canthaves."
"What are canthaves?" asked Jimmieboy.
"Canthaves are things you can't have. Don't you ever suffer because you
can't have things?" queried the voice.
"Oh, yes, indeed!" returned Jimmieboy. "Lots and lots of times."
"And didn't you ever have the wonders so badly that you got cross and
wouldn't eat anything but sweet things for dinner?" the voice asked.
"I don't know exactly what you mean by the wonders," replied Jimmieboy.
"Why, wonders is a disease that attacks boys who want to know why things
are and can't find out," said the voice.
"Oh, my, yes I've had that lots of times," laughed Jimmieboy. "Why, only
this morning I asked my papa why there weren't any dandelionesses, and
he wouldn't tell me because he said he had to catch a train, and I've
been wondering why ever since."
"I thought you'd had it; all boys do get it sooner or later, and it's a
thing you can have any number of times unless you have me around," said
the voice.
"What are you anyhow?" asked Jimmieboy.
"I'm what they call the Encyclopaedia Bird. I'm a regular owl for wisdom.
I know everything--just like the Cyclopaedia; and I have two wheels
instead of legs, which is why they call me the Bicyclopaedia Bird. I
can't let you see me, because these are not my office hours. I can only
be seen between ten and two on the thirty-second of March every
seventeenth year. You can get a fair idea of what I look like from my
photograph, though."
[Illustration]
As the voice said this, sure enough a photograph did actually pop out of
the bush, and land at Jimmieboy's feet. He sprang forward eagerly,
stooped, and picking it up, gazed earnestly at it. And a singular
creature the Bicyclopaedia Bird must have been if the photograph did him
justice. He had the head of an owl, but his body was oblong in shape,
just like a book, and, as the voice had said, in place of legs were two
wheels precisely like those of a bicycle. The effect was rather
pleasing, but so funny that Jimmieboy really wanted to laugh. He did not
laugh, however, for fear of hurting the Bird's feelings, which the Bird
noticed and appreciated.
"Thank you," he said, simply.
"What for?" asked Jimmieboy, looking up from the photograph, and peering
into the bush in the vain hope of catching a glimpse of the Bird itself.
"For not laughing," replied the Bird. "If you had laughed I should have
biked away at once because I am of no value to any one who laughs at my
personal appearance. It always makes me forget all I know, and that does
me up for a whole year. If I forget all I know, you see, I have to study
hard to learn it all over again, and that's a tremendous job,
considering how much knowledge there is to be had in the world. So you
see, by being polite and kind enough not to laugh at me, who can't help
being funny to look at, and who am not to blame for looking that way,
because I am not a self-made Bird, you are really the gainer, for I
promise you I'll tell you anything you want to know."
"That's very nice of you," returned Jimmieboy; "and perhaps, to begin
with, you'll tell me something that I ought to want to know, whether I
do or not."
"That is a very wise idea," said the Bicyclopaedia Bird, "and I'll try to
do it. Let me see; now, do you know why the Pollywog is always amiable?"
"No," returned Jimmieboy. "I never even knew that he was, and so
couldn't really wonder why."
"But you wonder why now, don't you?" asked the voice, anxiously. "For if
you don't, I can't tell you."
"I'm just crazy to know," Jimmieboy responded.
"Then listen, and I will tell you," said the voice. And then the strange
bird recited this poem about