TINKLE DOES SOME TRICKS
For a few seconds Tinkle stood looking at Dido, the dancing bear, not
knowing what to do or say. Some ponies would have been afraid of a
bear. They would have snorted, stood on their hind legs, and maybe have
run away. But Tinkle had never seen a bear before, no one had ever
told him about them, and he really did not know enough to be afraid.
Besides, Dido seemed such a funny, good-natured and happy bear that I
believe no one would have been afraid of him.
“So you are Dido, the dancing bear, are you?” asked Tinkle. “And you
say you are in a book. What does that mean?”
“I’ll tell you,” went on Dido, while his master, the man who blew such
jolly tunes on the brass horn, was picking up some apples that had
fallen from a roadside tree. He let Dido walk on ahead, without even a
string tied to him, for he knew that Dido would not run away.
“You see, it’s this way,” went on the dancing bear. “Years ago I used
to live in the woods with my father and mother, sisters and brothers.”
“I never lived in the woods,” said Tinkle, “but I lived in a big, green
field.”
“That was nice,” murmured Dido. “I have been in the fields, too. Well,
one day I was caught by a man, who took me away. At first I did not
like it, but the man was good to me and taught me to do tricks.”
“What are tricks?” asked the pony, for he could speak all animal
languages as well as understand them.
“Tricks are――well, I’ll show you in a minute,” went on Dido. “The man
was good to me, as I said, and taught me tricks. Then I was sold to a
circus and I had lots of good times with Tum Tum, the jolly elephant
and Mappo the merry monkey. They are in books, too.”
“What are books?” asked Tinkle. “Are they good, like sugar; and do you
eat them?”
“Oh, no!” laughed Dido. “Books are funny things, like blocks of wood;
only you can open them, like a door, you know, and inside are funny
black marks on paper that is white, like the snow. Boys and girls, and
men and women, open these funny things called books and look at them
for ever and ever so long.”
“Why do they do that?” asked Tinkle.
“Well, I don’t really know,” said Dido. “But after they have looked
at the books, turning over the white things with the black marks on,
called leaves, the boys and girls laugh.”
“Why?” Tinkle demanded.
“Because of the funny things printed on them,” answered Dido. “You see
in my book are set down all the things I did. And the things Mappo did
and the things Tum Tum did are in their books. Some of the things were
funny, and that is what makes the boys and girls laugh. Tum Tum’s book
is enough to make any one laugh. He is a very jolly elephant.”
“Is it fashionable to be in a book?” asked Tinkle. “I have quite a
stylish pony cart here, as you can see, so if being in a book is――”
“Of _course_ it’s fashionable to be in a book!” exclaimed Dido. “You
should see the funny pictures of _me_ in _my_ book.”
And I might say, right here, that the books that Dido spoke of really
exist, besides others about different animals. And this book is about
Tinkle, as you can see for yourself. Maybe the little pony will be
quite surprised when he finds what has been set down about him.
“Toot! Toot! Toot!” blew the horn again, and the man who owned Dido,
having picked up all the apples he wanted, came walking along the road.
Dido had been in a circus for some time, but now he was out again,
traveling around the country doing tricks.
“Ah, you have met a friend, I see, Dido!” remarked the man, who had
little gold rings in his ears. “A little pony, eh? Well, where there is
a pony there must be children, and I think they will like to see your
tricks, Dido. Come, we’ll get ready for them.”
The man blew another merry tune on his horn, and just then George and
Mabel came running out of the house, ready to go driving in the pony
cart.
“Oh, see the bear!” cried Mabel.
“And look at what he is doing!” added George. For, just then the man
told Dido to turn a somersault, and this the bear did.
“That’s one of my tricks,” said Dido to Tinkle, though of course George
and Mabel did not know the two animals were speaking to one another,
for they talked in a low whisper.
“Oh, so that’s a trick, is it?” asked Tinkle in surprise.
“Yes, and I can do others. Wait, I’m going to do some more,” went on
Dido.
“Come now, Dido! Show the little boy and girl how you play soldier!”
called the man and he tossed a stick to the bear. Dido clasped it in
his paws, held it over one shoulder just as though it were a gun and
marched around in a ring standing up stiff and straight like a soldier
on parade.
“Oh, that’s great!” cried George.
“Is he a trained bear, Mister?” asked Mabel.
“Oh, yes he is a good trained bear,” answered the man. “I have taught
him to do many tricks. Now stand on your head, Dido,” and Dido stood on
his head without so much as blinking his eye. Only he could not stand
that way very long because he was quite a fat and heavy bear now. But
he did very well.
“Can he do any more tricks?” asked George, and by this time Patrick,
the coachman, Mary the cook, and Mrs. Farley had come out to watch Dido.
“I will have him climb a pole,” said the man, pointing to a telegraph
pole in front of the Farley home. “Up you go, Dido!” he called, and the
bear walked slowly over to the smooth pole. He stuck his sharp claws
into the soft wood, and up and up he climbed until he was nearly at the
top. Then he climbed down again while Mabel and George clapped their
hands and laughed.
“He is a fine bear,” said George. “I wonder if he would eat sugar as
Tinkle, my pony, does?”
“Try him and see,” answered the man, with a laugh.
“Won’t he bite?” asked Mabel, as George took some lumps of sugar from
his pocket.
“Oh, no. Dido never bites,” answered his master. “He is a very gentle
bear.”
George held a lump of sugar on his hand. Up Dido walked to the little
boy.
“Don’t dare bite him!” said Tinkle to Dido, speaking in animal talk, of
course.
“Oh, no fear!” exclaimed Dido. “I wouldn’t bite him for the world. Just
watch!” Then Dido put out his big red tongue to which the lump of sugar
stuck, just like a postage stamp, and, in another second, it had slid
down Dido’s red throat.
“Oh, wasn’t that cute?” cried Mabel.
Then Dido did more tricks, and after Mrs. Farley had given the man some
money he and Dido walked on down the road.
“Good-by, children!” called the man.
“Good-by,” answered George and Mabel, waving their hands.
“Good-by, Tinkle!” called Dido. “Perhaps some day I may see you again.”
“I hope so,” called back the pony. “I want to hear more about being in
a book and about Tum Tum and Mappo.”
“They are in the circus now, I think,” said Dido. “If you ever go to
the circus you may meet them.”
“I don’t believe I ever shall,” said Tinkle. But you just wait and see
what happens.
“Well, go for your drive now, children,” said Mrs. Farley. “And don’t
let Tinkle run away with you.”
“We won’t,” answered George, laughingly. And as he and Mabel drove
away, Patrick not going with them this time, George said: “I wish I
could teach Tinkle some tricks.”
“Oh, wouldn’t that be great!” exclaimed Mabel. “I once saw a trick pony
in a show. He could bow and tell how old he was by pawing on the ground
with his hoof.”
“Then I’m going to teach Tinkle some tricks,” said George. “And when he
learns them we’ll take him around the country and show him off and earn
money.”
“Oh, how nice!” cried Mabel, clapping her hands.
When George and Mabel got back from their drive George spoke to his
father about teaching Tinkle to do some tricks.
“I hardly think you can,” said Mr. Farley. “But you may try. Better ask
Patrick about it, though. He knows a lot about horses and ponies.”
“Teach Tinkle tricks, is it?” asked Patrick when George spoke to the
coachman about it. “Well, maybe you can. He’s young yet. You can’t
teach an old pony tricks any more than you can teach an old dog. We’ll
try some day.”
A few days after this Patrick called George out to the stable yard
where Tinkle was standing.
“What are you going to do?” asked George.
“Teach Tinkle his first trick,” was the answer. “He is going to learn
how to jump over a stick.” Patrick put two boxes, about two feet high,
on the ground and laid a stick across them. He led the pony close to
the stick and stood there beside him.
“Now, Master George, you stand on the other side of the stick, and hold
out these lumps of sugar,” said Patrick. “We will see what Tinkle will
do.”
George held out the sugar a few feet away from Tinkle’s nose. Tinkle
could smell it, and he wanted it very much.
“Go get it!” called Patrick, letting loose the halter strap he had been
holding. “Go get the sugar, Tinkle.”
Instead of jumping across the stick, as they wanted him to do, Tinkle
walked right against it and knocked it off the boxes.
“That won’t do!” cried Patrick. “Don’t give him the sugar, Master
George, until he jumps over the stick.”
So George held the sugar behind his back, and Tinkle was quite
disappointed at not getting it.
“I wonder what they want me to do, and why they put that stick in front
of me?” thought the little pony. Patrick placed the stick back on the
boxes, and this time he nailed it fast so the pony could not easily
knock it off. Then the coachman held the pony as before and George put
the lumps of sugar out on his hand again.
Once more Tinkle walked forward to get them, but this time he could not
knock the stick down with his legs. He shoved the boxes aside, though,
and again Patrick led him back.
“Jump over the stick, Tinkle! Jump over the stick and I’ll give you the
sugar!” called George. And then, after two or three more times, Tinkle
understood. He found that stick always in his way when he wanted to get
the sweet sugar, and finally he thought of the fence he had once jumped
over.
“I guess that’s what they want me to do now!” he said. And with a jump,
over the stick he went. Tinkle had done his first trick!