A PEDESTRIAN TRIP.
Nono had not started alone on his trip to Stockholm. He had with him a
companion as lively as himself. A black companion it was, and with a
voice that could vary from the deepest bass to the highest treble, not
only at will, but at the word of command. Alas! this companion had a
ring in his nose like a heathen islander, though he had been born in a
Christian country, and had enjoyed unusual advantages for education.
He was accustomed to be washed, and to be dressed on occasion, and he
took his food most respectably considering his ancestry. If he were
not "learned," as some of his race had been, he was at least a most
accomplished and amusing companion. Nono had tried hard to make his
pet a biped; but the creature was not ambitious of being promoted to
walking upright like man, though he could stand on two legs as stiffly
as any statue, at least for a few moments. He knew he was after all
but a little black pig, with a ring in his nose (as a punishment for
rooting), and submitted humbly to being led, and tried to obey his
master's least command as far as his intelligence permitted.
When the little black pig had made his appearance at the colonel's, in
the midst of six rose-coloured brothers, everybody had been reminded of
Nono among the fair-haired children at the golden house. Frans at once
declared that the eccentric pig ought to belong to the little Italian,
and the present had been finally made, with all due ceremonies, and an
appropriate speech from Frans, which won great applause from the
auditors. Blackie then and there received his name, which he had ever
since retained, and to which he seemed willing to bring honour.
Nono had made his pet a rustic home of his own, and had resolved from
the first that Blackie should be something remarkable. Oke had
described to the boy the learned pigs about which he had read, and Nono
betook himself in earnest to the education of Blackie, and found his
efforts crowned with amazing success.
Karin had looked rather gloomy at first about piggie's being destined
to an exceptional career, but she relented when she saw what innocent
merriment he had introduced into the family. Jan was never too tired
to laugh as heartily as the boys to see Blackie giving his hard paw to
be shaken, or singing or scolding according to the words of command.
If the order were "Scold, Blackie!" he scolded to perfection in his
grunting way. If it were "Sing, Blackie!" he laid his head
sentimentally on one side, and gave a succession of shrill squeals that
brought forth from the listeners a glad round of applause. Blackie's
everyday dress was provided by nature, and was dusky of course, but
scrupulously brushed--a process which he evidently considered an
agreeable luxury.
Blackie had been taken to the yearly fair in a red flannel blanket
pointed at the edges, that an elephant might have been proud to wear if
it had suited his proportions. Nono had exhibited his pet thus
attired, and his accomplishments were so well rewarded that Karin
received in advance full pay for Blackie's winter accommodation, to
Nono's infinite satisfaction.
Nono had not thought of taking Blackie as a companion in his pedestrian
trip until he was passing the home of his pet, after bidding good-bye
to the elders of the family. The traveller had been suddenly struck
with the thought that Blackie might chance to serve instead of a long
purse for the exigencies of the journey, and it would be best to take
him, as private property, to supply the possible needs of the uncertain
future.
It may be that it had unconsciously seemed dreary to the little Italian
to start out into the great world alone, and that a four-footed friend
would be better than none. The plan promised to prove a good one; for
Blackie was a companion who, though he said little, required too much
attention for his master to have many anxious thoughts. Accomplished
as piggie certainly was, he was evidently puzzled as to Nono's
intentions, and constantly suggested in his own way that the walk had
been long enough, and it was time to turn back to the golden house.
After a sharp contention on this subject, the travellers came in sight
of a house which Nono fancied would suit his purpose, for he rightly
guessed that Blackie's appetite had been sharpened by the long walk in
the fresh air. Most abundant refreshments for boy and beast were given
on the one side, and on the other a whole family had a hearty laugh to
promote their own digestion. Blackie could not have done better if he
had fully realized the importance of the occasion.
Towards twilight the glad jingling of bells rang out on the air--a
perfect concert of its kind. A train of sleighs drawn by prancing
horses came dashing down a long hill that Nono could see in the
distance, as he trudged over a level stretch below. Nono stepped out
into the soft snow as the first sleigh was almost upon him, the pace of
the horses being prudently slackened at the sight of the uncommon
impediment in the road. Nono took off his hat and bowed, while his
face gleamed with delight at the pretty display--the festal white nets
of the horses, and the fur-covered sleighs where the merry party were
so comfortably stowed.
When Nono bowed, at a motion from him the pig did the same, standing in
his very best way, if not in most graceful court fashion. The little
dark figures on the background of snow brought forth a cheery peal of
laughter, as sleigh after sleigh passed by with nods and shouts of
approval. Some self-sacrificing lover of children first managed to get
his hand into his pocket under the wraps; so came, by example, from one
and another a small rain of copper, with now and then a silver bit for
company. Nono and Blackie plunging round in the snow to pick up the
treasures (Blackie hoping for a dainty morsel, and Nono eager that
nothing should be lost) made a funny little roadside scene that sent
the gay party on their way even more merry than before.
Nono was not sure that he had gathered up all the results of this
unexpected exhibition, but he soon felt obliged to resume his march, as
the night was coming on rapidly. Blackie introduced him pleasantly to
a little shoemaker, who came up from behind and joined the two
pedestrians. Of course he asked Nono all manner of questions, and got
true replies, as to where he was going and why. The hardy shoemaker
had a leather apron over his heart, but the heart in his broad breast
was honest and kind. Nono and Blackie were taken into his poor
cottage, and were free to sleep in its one room, where he and his wife
and two children, and the leather and the shoes to be mended, and much
more of a nondescript nature, were huddled together.
In the morning Nono was assured that one day's more walk would bring
him near to Stockholm. That was a trifle, the shoemaker said. He had
walked as far as that to church every Sunday, when he was young, and
lived up in the north, where the snow was not to be sneezed at, and the
night lasted almost all day, as he inconsistently expressed it.
As to visiting the princess, the shoemaker assured Nono that was sheer
madness. A boy like him would hardly dare to look any of the royal
family in the face, he was certain. He had never heard anything
particular about the princess, to be sure, but high folks didn't like
to be bothered. He advised Nono to show Blackie in the streets. That
might bring him a bit of money; and if worst came to worst there was
begging, not a bad business in Stockholm he had heard. Money was to be
made that way, no doubt, by such a chap as Nono, who had such a pretty
story to tell.
The shoemaker meant no harm, after his way of looking at life; but Nono
drew himself up straight, and said he believed he should see the
princess, he knew about her, and she was almost an angel. He might
have added, if he had spoken his thoughts, that he felt acquainted with
her after a fashion, and that, further, he hoped he should never come
to begging while he was able and willing to work. Nono could pay for
food and lodging for himself and Blackie without drawing on Jan's
coppers, and he set off full of courage. The shoemaker and his wife
had been kind, and he thanked them in his heart, as he had with his
lips, at parting, but he felt more and more grateful for his home in
the golden house. Nobody ever swore there, or tipped up a black bottle
with something strong in it. And how clean it was always, and how cosy!
The shoemaker's discouraging words had, however, been for Nono much
like the chilling mist that surrounded him when he started on his
second day's journey. He suddenly thought of "the lion and the bear"
and "this Philistine," and he was again convinced that there would be a
blessing on his undertaking, and the dear princess would prove to be no
Philistine, but just what he had fancied her.
As Nono drew nearer to Stockholm the cottagers seemed to be of a
rougher sort; and it was well that he had money to buy what he needed,
for nobody seemed to care to look at him or his piggie. When he tried
to tell his story about Karin and little Decima, and that he was going
to see the princess, he heard only rude shouts of derision or hard
words in reply. He got, however, leave to pass the night in a stable,
with Blackie beside him, with the parting good-night warning not to
steal off with the lent blanket in the morning. It would not have been
easy to slip off unobserved, for the stable was locked and barred, and
Nono was as safely imprisoned as if he had been in the common jail.
The friendly old cart-horse taught him no harm, and mumbled with
contentment as it cheerfully ate its humble fare, peering now and then
towards the dark corner where Blackie sang and scolded, as if for the
special entertainment of the host in the stable.
By making payment in advance in the morning Nono got a glass of milk to
take with his hard bread, and Blackie had the same fare, which put him
in a good humour for the day.
Nono was surprised to find that he felt a little shy about entering the
city, when he saw the spires shining in the morning sun and the houses
rising in close lines about them. The mist had fairly rolled away.
All nature was bright, but Nono had too solemn a sense of the greatness
and the extraordinary nature of his undertaking to be in anything but a
serious mood.
He was in the outskirts of Stockholm, when some big apprentice boys who
were on their way to their work hailed him as he was in the midst of a
contention with Blackie, who seemed convinced that, with all his
accomplishments, he was not fit for city life, and it was best for him
to stay in the rural districts. The apprentices offered to help Nono,
which they did substantially, if subduing Blackie were the matter in
question. Two of them took him in their arms and held him firmly,
while Nono was ordered to tell honestly how that stylish little pig
came into his possession. Nono said simply that it was given to him,
and then hurried to tell the story of his errand. He was afraid of the
rough, dirty fellows, who had a wild, reckless look about them; and
they so interrupted him by loud laughs unpleasant to hear, that Nono
got confused, and really gave no very clear account of himself.
The apprentices, putting on an air of mock respect, declared it was
quite impossible to go to see the princess with that little pig as a
companion, genteel a pig as he seemed to be. They could take care of
him, and Nono could call for him on the way home. They lived, they
said, in a house at which they pointed in the distant fields. Then
they started off in that direction as fast as their feet could carry
them, with Blackie held fast in the strong arms of the tallest of the
party.
It was in vain that Nono called upon the retiring enemy. They shook
their fists at him and laughed mockingly, and called out that they
would "give it to him" if he undertook to follow them now. He could
call for piggie when he had seen the princess; and again they pointed
out the house towards which they seemed to be hastening.
Nono felt inclined to sit down and cry by the roadside. It suddenly
struck him that these were Philistines, quite of the scoffing, Goliath
sort; but he was not to be discouraged by them, not he! It would have
been rather awkward to appear before the princess, in her beautiful
home, with Blackie beside him. There was truth in that at least.
Perhaps those wild fellows meant well after all. They might have been
just teasing him, as "the little boys" teased Decima sometimes, though
they really loved her at the bottom. Yes, Decima! he must not forget
that it was for her he had undertaken it all. In such a good cause no
"Philistines" should make him afraid. He was so far safely on his way.
He must thank God and take courage. And he did.