Not one has ever guessed, sir,
That he could break the magic spell
By pulling down his vest, sir.
Oh, yes, indeed, there is no need
Why he should be distressed, sir,
If he but knows enchanted clothes
Are governed by the vest, sir.
And when Winn heard what he was saying he knew right away that if he
could only escape he could easily get his father, and grandfather, and
uncle, and big brother out of the power of Toobad the tailor, for he
only had to tell them to pull down their vests and they would be rid
forever of the hateful clothing they were wearing. But alas, it was one
thing to want to get home, and another to get there, for while he was
transformed into a tailor's dummy he was utterly helpless and could
only stand and watch Toobad as he wandered about the shop with his eyes
shut and the lighted candle in his hand.
And then all of a sudden something happened that transformed him from
a tailor's dummy into a very real boy, for Toobad, not seeing where
he was going, bumped right into him and the flame of the candle came
right against Winn's nose--only for a moment--but it was long enough to
scorch it and to make Winn yell--ouch! at the top of his lungs, and to
joggle all the enchantment out of him. And if you did not believe an
enchanted person can be cured by scorching his nose, just get yourself
enchanted and scorch your nose and see if it does not work.
Anyway, it cured Winn, and not only that but it woke Toobad up. And
when the tailor found himself in his shop with his nightgown on, and
found Winn changed from a dummy into a regular boy again, he was
furious.
"Zounds!" he shrieked, dancing up and down, "how the--what the--where
did I come from and how did you get all right again?"
And when Winn told him he was more furious than ever. "Well," he said,
"I'll soon fix you anyway." And thereupon he began to say the alphabet
backward the same as he had done before, but by the time he had said
three letters and before the enchantment had had time to work, Winn
rushed at him and knocked the candle to the floor. And then while the
shop was in darkness he unhooked the door and ran home as fast as he
could. When he got there it was past midnight and of course every one
was asleep, but by and by his mother heard him knocking and let him in.
And you may be sure it did not take his father, or his grandfather, or
his uncle, or his big brother long to hop out of bed where they had
been sleeping with their clothes on because they could not get them
off. And maybe they were not surprised when they learned that Winn had
really been the tailor's dummy they had seen outside the shop. And
maybe they were not delighted when they found that Winn knew of a way
for them to get rid of the enchanted clothes. And maybe they did not
pull down their vests in a hurry as soon as Winn had finished telling
them about it.
"My gracious," said Winn's grandfather, as he peeled the last of the
hated garments from him, "I feel twenty years younger. And I can hardly
wait until morning to get my hands on that villainous tailor."
"Nor I," said Winn's father.
"Me, too," said Winn's uncle.
"I daren't tell you what _I'll_ do to him," said Winn's big brother.
And the first thing after breakfast they all went around to Toobad's
shop dressed in their old clothes, and each one of them kept his word
so well that Toobad was laid up in the hospital for a week. And every
time he got well and came out again a fresh batch of victims was
waiting to send him back again, for Winn had gone all about the city
telling everybody who had bought the enchanted clothes, how to pull
down their vests and get rid of them. And, of course, one of the first
persons he told after his immediate family was his mother's aunt's
second cousin. But as his mother's aunt's second cousin had forgotten
to put on his vest when he donned his enchanted suit, he could not pull
his vest down. And so the only thing to do was to give him chloroform
and skin the clothes off him a little strip at a time. After which they
sent _him_ to the hospital also, where he lay in bed right alongside of
Toobad the tailor.
And perhaps that is the reason Toobad is still in the hospital, for
after Winn's mother's aunt's second cousin got well, he refused to
go home, but sat down on the hospital steps to wait for Toobad. And
neither Winn's father, nor his grandfather, nor his uncle, nor his big
brother, were able to coax him away.
But as for Winn, he did not try to coax him, indeed he soon forgot
all about his mother's aunt's second cousin, for all the persons in
Vex who had been wearing Toobad's enchanted clothes, began sending
Winn presents to show their gratitude, and when you have sixteen gold
watches, and a couple of ponies, and skates, and air guns, and pretty
much every sort of a thing that a boy likes, you cannot think of much
else.
The best you can do is just to enjoy yourself, and if you think Winn is
not doing that, take a trip to Vex some day and you will soon find out.
THE SNOOPING-BUG
Once there was a Snooping Bug that lived in a glass jar on a shelf
in the cottage of a Fairy Godmother. Now fairy godmothers are always
nice, but this Fairy Godmother was _very_ nice, and the reason she kept
the Snooping Bug a prisoner in a jar on her shelf was because she was
afraid he would go about and get folks into trouble. And another thing
that showed she was unusually nice was that every week-end she always
invited a little prince or princess to be her guest. And this story
opens just as Prince Pranc, the only son of the king of a nearby city,
had arrived to spend several days with his Fairy Godmother.
"Now, Pranc," said the Fairy Godmother, "I want you to have the
happiest kind of a time, and you'll have it without doubt if you don't
get into mischief."
"Oh, that's all right," replied the Prince, as he watched the Fairy
Godmother unpack his trunk, "if I get into mischief you just send me
home again."
"Yes," said the Fairy Godmother, "but suppose you are not here to
send home again; suppose you have disappeared. Don't forget this is
an enchanted house and that strange things can happen in an enchanted
house."
"Phew!" said Pranc, "I almost wish I hadn't come."
"Not at all," replied the Fairy Godmother, "there is nothing to be
alarmed about. You could sit on a keg of gunpowder and be perfectly
safe if you didn't explode the powder. But in case you should get into
trouble, put this ring on your finger and turn it around and around
when danger threatens."
"Oh, thank you," said the Prince, slipping on the ring. "I don't feel
so worried now."
Then the Fairy Godmother took him all over the cottage and showed him
the wonderful belongings she had, and last of all she took him into
her study and there Pranc saw the Snooping Bug in his jar on the shelf.
"What's that?" he asked.
And the Fairy Godmother told him it was a Snooping Bug. "And this one,"
she continued, pointing to another jar on the shelf, "has a Sulking Bug
in it; and this one--next to it, is a Crying Bug. If they got out of
the jars they'd bite you, and you'd start in to snoop, or sulk, or cry."
"Whoever heard of such a thing," said the Prince. "It can't be."
"It can't, eh," said the Fairy Godmother. "Just put your finger on the
top of this bottle when I take the cork out."
And with that she took the magic stopper out of the Crying Bug
bottle and Pranc stuck his finger in. And then--ping--the next
moment something bit it, and the _next_ moment he burst out crying,
boo-hoo--boo-hoo, as loud as he could. And as he was a boy who hardly
_ever_ cried, he felt awfully ashamed of himself.
"Oh, dear," he sobbed, "I hate to cry this way, but--but--"
"Don't worry," said the Fairy Godmother, as she corked the bottle
again, "he only gave you a little bite. You'll be over it in a minute."
And presently the tears stopped rolling down Pranc's cheeks and he was
all right once more.
"My goodness," he said, as he wiped his eyes, "I wouldn't like that to
happen again."
"Then," said the Fairy Godmother, "see that you keep hands off these
bottles. As long as the bugs stay in the bottles everything will be all
right, but if they once get out they'll bite every girl and boy they
find. That is why I keep them prisoners. I don't care for snooping,
sulking or crying children, nor does any one else."
Then she told Pranc that she would have to leave him for awhile. "I
have been invited to the christening of a princess," she said.
So she put on her gossamer cloak and her diamond studded bonnet, kissed
her hand to Pranc and went off to the christening. But so interested
was Pranc in the bugs on the shelf he hardly noticed her going, for
the Sulking Bug looked so mad it almost startled him, and the Crying
Bug had cried so much his bottle was half full of tears and he looked
almost as mad as the Sulking Bug. But when it came to the Snooping
Bug, it was a very different affair altogether, for the Snooping Bug,
although he had a sly sort of expression in his big, pop eyes, was real
jolly looking as he slowly scratched his shoulder blade with his hind
leg. And when he saw the Prince looking at him, he winked one eye and
then turned a couple of somersaults, which made the Prince laugh like
anything.
"Gee whiz," he exclaimed, "I like this bug."
And in order to get a better look at the creature he reached the jar
down from the shelf and carried it over to the window, or at least
he started to, but before he got there he stumbled--bing--the jar
slipped from his hands, fell to the floor with a crash and broke into a
thousand pieces, leaving the Snooping Bug kicking in the midst of the
fragments.
[Illustration: The jar broke into a thousand pieces]
"Oh," cried the Prince, "I must get something to put him in or he'll
get away."
"Nonsense," remarked the Snooping Bug. "I'm not going away. You
couldn't drive me away. I'm going to stay with you. But do get me out
of this mess, please."
So Pranc, not suspecting anything, stooped to pick the Snooping Bug up
and then as he did so--zip, the Bug bit his finger and in about eight
seconds he changed from a first class little boy who always minded his
own business and did not pry into things, into a sly, snooping fellow
peering into corners, and closets, and everything. And as he changed,
the Snooping Bug changed also. It swelled, and swelled, and swelled
until it was half as big as Pranc. After which it chuckled, wiggling
the two long, wavy horns that grew over its eyebrows, and took the
Prince by the hand.
"Come on," it said, "let's start. My, but it feels good to get out of
that jar."
"Start," said Pranc, "start where?"
"Why, to headquarters," replied the Snooping Bug, "where you can snoop
all you want."
So off they went to the Fairy Godmother's preserve closet. "Open the
door," said the Snooping Bug. And when the Prince had done so the
Snooping Bug pushed Pranc inside and then followed, shutting the door
after him.
"My, but it's dark," exclaimed the Prince. "What are we going to do
now?"
"Just you wait," said the Snooping Bug. Then he called out: "Going
down!" And all of a sudden a brilliantly lighted elevator came down
right in front of them, the door slid open, Pranc and the Snooping Bug
stepped inside, and then, ker-zip, ker-zip, ker-zip, the elevator began
to drop, and drop, and drop, with the most awful dips.
Goodness, how they did drop. The Prince thought they must have dropped
about nine hundred miles when at last the elevator stopped after giving
a terrible bounce or two, and the Snooping Bug shouted: "Here we are!"
Pranc wondered where "here we are" was as he looked up and down the
street in which he presently found himself standing, and was about to
ask the Snooping Bug, when all of a sudden somebody bumped into him and
he turned to see a tall, slim fellow in a pink uniform with his hands
full of letters which he had been reading as he walked along. Over one
shoulder hung a leather bag which was crammed with other letters still
in their envelopes, and on his head was a cap with a tassel and on the
front of the cap it said "postman."
"What do you mean," cried the stranger, sternly, "by interfering with
the mails? Can't you see I'm on government duty?"
"Oh, excuse me," said Pranc, "I didn't mean to bump you, and I wouldn't
have done it if you hadn't been reading those letters as you walked
along."
"Indeed," said the postman, "well if I didn't read some of the letters
as I walked about delivering them I don't know what I _would_ do. I
can't read _all_ of 'em at night, you know."
"But," said the Prince, "they are not your letters, are they?"
"Of course not," said the postman, testily, "who would write me
all this lot of letters? They belong to the different citizens of
Snoopania."
"Oh," said the Prince, "you don't read other people's letters, I hope."
"Well," retorted the postman, opening his eyes very wide, "I should
hope I did. If I didn't I'd lose my job. Every letter must be torn open
and read, and every postal card must not only be read but committed to
memory. I could shut my eyes right now and tell you what I've read on
a million postal cards only I haven't the time. This is the way of it,
you see:
A postman's life is a busy one,
His working hours are never done,
For all of the letters the public writes
He has to read at home at nights;
And all of the postals, yes, sir-ee,
He has to commit to memoree.
And so if you think I'm cross a bit
You'll know my job is the cause of it.
As he finished he suddenly noticed the Snooping Bug. "For mercy's
sake," he exclaimed, "when did you get back? I thought the Fairy
Godmother had you bottled up."
"She did," said the Snooping Bug, "but thanks to this noble boy I'm out
again. Where can I find the First Lord of the Keyhole? I want to make
arrangements for parliament to reward my rescuer."
"Well," said the postman, "I think he's at his office right now, if you
hurry."
So, after bidding the postman good-by, the Snooping Bug hurried Pranc
off to the office of the First Lord of the Keyhole.
Soon they reached Parliament House where the First Lord of the Keyhole
had his office, but when they tried to open the office door it seemed
to stick. So Pranc gave it a push, and then a harder one, and all at
once it opened wide and the Prince and the Snooping Bug staggering into
the room saw in the middle of the floor a white-haired old gentleman
lying on his back.
"Shut the door," commanded the old gentleman, scrambling to his feet.
"Now," he said, glaring at Pranc as he smoothed his clothing, "I
suppose you know what you've done."
"No," said the Prince, "what have I done?" He looked at the old
gentleman and then at the Snooping Bug. The old gentleman was very red
in the face and the Snooping Bug seemed to be dreadfully worried. He
took Pranc into a corner and whispered in his ear.
"Don't be frightened," he said, rather hoarsely, "but you upset a peer
of the realm when you opened the door. He was peering through the
keyhole at you before he said 'Come in,' and you should have peered
through the keyhole at him before you did come in. I don't know whether
I can get you off or not. I ought to have warned you."
"You certainly ought," said the Prince. "How was I to know he was at
the keyhole? It seems a very queer thing for an old gentleman like that
to do."
"Not at all," put in the old gentleman. "Ain't I the First Lord of
the Keyhole and head of the House of Peers? And don't all the Peers of
Snoopania peer through keyholes? Eh?"
"I don't know," said Pranc.
"Well, they do," continued the old gentleman, "the same as the members
of the House of Commons _listen_ at keyholes. Where have you been all
your life, anyway?"
And then the Prince told him where his home was and how the Snooping
Bug had brought him to Snoopania. "But," he added, "I think I'd like to
go back, if you don't mind."
"Oh, come now," put in the Snooping Bug, "you've only just arrived." He
turned to the First Lord of the Keyhole. "I think he's worried for fear
you're going to have him punished for knocking you over. Are you?"
"Certainly," snapped the First Lord of the Keyhole. "The dignity of the
peerage must be maintained."
"Well, I don't think it's fair," said the Snooping Bug, hotly.
"Of course it isn't fair," retorted the old gentleman. "We never do
anything fair in Snoopania. You know that. If we did we wouldn't snoop,
would we?"
Then he clapped his hands and six very jolly looking gentlemen entered
in a single file. "This is the Committee on Extermination," said the
First Lord of the Keyhole, turning to the Prince. "The Chairman will
arrange the details of your execution."
"With pleasure," said the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, who
was the jolliest looking man of them all. Then he patted Pranc on the
head and asked in a kindly tone _when_ he would like to have his head
cut off.
"What!" exclaimed the Prince, with a startled expression.
"_When_," repeated the Chairman, "would you like your head cut off?"
"_Never_," shouted Pranc, as loud as he could.
"Never," repeated the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, looking
rather pained. "Oh, but I say that won't do at all. You _must_ fix a
time. We can't cut your head off unless you do. It wouldn't be legal."
"Indeed," said Pranc, with a sigh of relief. "Well, I'm very glad to
hear it."
And though every member of the Committee on Extermination argued with
him, and the First Lord of the Keyhole shook his fist at him and
sputtered like a fire-cracker, he simply would _not_ say when he would
like his head cut off.
"Well," said the First Lord of the Keyhole to the Chairman of the
Exterminating Committee, "we'll have to appeal to the King about the
matter. This boy doesn't know what he wants."
"Oh, yes, he does," said the Snooping Bug.
"He does _not_," thundered the First Lord of the Keyhole.
"He does, too," retorted the Snooping Bug, "and if you see the King,
we'll see him, too."
So everybody started off for the palace and never stopped until they
stood outside the monarch's sitting-room. "Wait a moment," said the
Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, "until I see whether he
is busy." Whereupon he put his eye to the keyhole. "Yes," he said,
straightening up again, "he is quite busy snooping under his bathroom
door."
"But," said Pranc, "what's the use of that?"
"What's the use of anything?" snapped the First Lord of the Keyhole.
"Practice makes perfect, and the more you snoop the better you can do
it. The King of Snoopania does not believe in wasting his time, sir."
And sure enough the monarch did not, for when they opened the door and
went in, he had his head in the fireplace.
"Oh, how do you do," he said, pulling it out again.
"Are you very much engaged?" inquired the Chairman of the Exterminating
Committee.
"Well," said the King, "I only just got through with the bathroom and
I did want to finish the chimney this morning, sure, but it doesn't
matter. What is it?"
"This boy," said the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, "is to
have his head cut off but he won't say when. He doesn't know what he
wants, so we'd like to know if you know."
"Of course he doesn't know," put in Pranc, impatiently. "I'm the only
one who knows. And besides what is the use of asking a king who spends
his time peeking up chimneys? I never heard of a king doing such a
thing."
Well, if the Prince had walked up to the monarch and boxed his ears
he could not have astonished him or the rest of the party more. For a
moment no one said anything, they just looked at each other in horror,
and then the King turned red, white and blue in the face with rage.
"You--you--you--" he bawled, glaring at Pranc, "you're an imitation
snooper. You don't know the first principles of snooping. What are you
doing in Snoopania anyway?" Then he yelled for his soldiers to come and
cut the Prince's head off at once--at once. He repeated it twice so
they would not misunderstand.
But the Prince did not wait to see whether they understood or not,
no sir-ee. He was thoroughly disgusted with snooping, snoopers and
Snoopania, and determined to get back to his Fairy Godmother's cottage
at once if it could possibly be done. So when the King's soldiers
entered the room to seize him he waited until they came very near,
and then he twisted the ring the Fairy Godmother had given him, and
bing--flat on their backs the soldiers fell, bumping their heads like
anything.
"Good-by," cried Pranc, waving his hand to the Snooping Bug, "I'm going
home."
"Wait," shouted the Snooping Bug, "I'll go with you."
"No," replied the Prince, "I've had quite enough of snoopers and
snooping bugs. You stay where you are."
Then he jumped over the prostrate soldiers and out the door of the
palace. Up the street he ran until he met the postman. "Where's the
elevator?" he panted.
"Straight ahead," replied the postman, "but if you'll wait a moment
I'll tell you what was on some of those postal cards I spoke about."
"I can't," said Pranc, "the King's soldiers are after me. I'd like to,
but--"
"Yah!" With a shout a whole regiment of the King's soldiers rushed
around the corner and made a grab at him, but quick as a wink Pranc
twisted the Fairy Godmother's ring once more, and bing--over went the
soldiers on their backs and hit their heads bang, and by the time they
were able to sit up and rub the bumps, the Prince had reached the
elevator. "Up," he shouted, and up the elevator went with a leap, and a
moment later stopped inside the preserve closet.
"My!" said Pranc, as he opened the closet door and stood once more in
the Fairy Godmother's cottage, "my, but I'm glad to be back."
Then he went out on the front porch where the Fairy Godmother was
sitting in a rocking chair knitting, and told her all that had happened
to him.
"I'm not surprised," said the Fairy Godmother. "When I got back from
the christening and found that the Snooping Bug had disappeared and you
also, I knew you had done something you should not have, and that you
were probably having a time of it."
"Yes," said the Prince, "and if it had not been for your ring I would
have had a worse time. I'm awfully sorry I lost your Snooping Bug."
"Oh, that's all right," said the Fairy Godmother. "Any time you'd like
to borrow my Crying Bug or my Sulking Bug, just help yourself."
"No-thank-you," replied Prince. "_NO-thank-you!_ No more bugs for me."
THE WRONG JACK
There are lots and lots of boys named Jack and some of them have been
quite celebrated, like the Jack who planted the famous beanstalk. But
the Jack this story is about was just a bright, jolly little fellow who
lived in a country home with his father and mother, and who had never
had any adventures more exciting than catching minnows in the creek or
getting stung by a hornet in the garden.
And so you may be sure he was very much surprised to find himself in a
terrific fix one summer morning as he was digging for worms back of the
barn where a wild grapevine grew. And this is how it happened.
Every time he wanted to go fishing he always dug for worms in the same
place, and as a consequence he had made quite a deep hole, but of
course he never thought anything about _that_. Or at least he did
not until his spade struck something hard and a rumbling voice said:
"Ouch!" And then the ground under his feet began to heave and heave,
and before he could gather his wits and run away, out of the hole came
a giant, head first and scowling like anything. And even then Jack
did not run--he was too frightened. He just stayed where he was and
trembled.
[Illustration: Out of the hole came a giant]
"So," said the giant, rubbing a lump over his left eyebrow, "you're the
chap who thumped me, eh? What do you mean by such actions?"
"Noth--noth--nothing," stammered Jack. "I--I--I didn't know you were in
there. I--I--I was digging for worms."
"I don't believe it," growled the giant. "You were digging to find out
if I was dead. Well, I'm not, even if my fall did drive me underground.
And now I'll thank you to hand over my magic harp, and my money bags,
and my hen that lays the golden eggs."
"I--I--I don't know what you're talking about," said Jack. "I haven't
got your harp, or your hen, or your money bags. All I've got is a can
of worms and a fishing line. You must have mistaken me for somebody
else."
"Hum!" said the giant, looking at him sharply, "well, maybe I have.
What is your name?"
"Jack," answered the boy.
"Jack," bellowed the giant. "Did you say Jack?"
"Why--why, yes," replied our hero. "What--what of it?"
"What of it?" repeated the monster, "why everything of it. You tell
me your name is Jack and yet you say you don't know anything about my
harp, or my hen, or my money bags. I suppose you'll say next you didn't
cut down the beanstalk and almost make me break my neck?"
"Never," shouted Jack, "I never did. I never had a beanstalk. It was
that other Jack in the story. You needn't blame it on me."