please wait just a moment and see what happens. No sooner had Jimmie
started to go home--Jackie didn't know why, you see, for he didn't know it
was wrong to bite the ball--no sooner, I say, did Jimmie start home, than
out from the bushes jumped a great big water rat, with ugly, cruel, sharp
teeth and wicked eyes.
Oh, how frightened Jimmie was, for he knew big water rats ate ducks. But
what do you suppose Jackie, that puppy dog, did? Why he just growled away
down in his throat, and he stuck up one ear as far as it would go, and he
let the other ear fall down as far as it would fall, and he opened his
mouth, and he showed his teeth, that he had sharpened on Jimmie's ball,
and he jumped right at that bad rat! Yes, sir, right at him, growling all
the while!
At first the rat was going to fight, but when it saw how brave Jackie
was, it turned and ran away. And then that puppy dog just put his little
tail between his legs, and howled, and ran away, too; Jimmie waddling
after him. You see Jackie was frightened after it was all over, but he had
frightened the rat worse yet.
"How brave you were!" cried Jimmie, when they were at Mrs. Bow Wow's
house. "You were very brave, indeed."
"Do you really think so?" asked Jackie. "Then I must be."
"You can bite my ball all you want to," went on Jimmie, and then Peetie
came home from the store, and they all had a fine time playing catch. Now
to-morrow night I'm going to tell you about Grandfather Goosey-Gander's
tall hat, if I don't lose a penny off the front stoop.
STORY XXIX
GRANDFATHER GOOSEY-GANDER'S TALL HAT
Jimmie Wibblewobble was in the back lots, playing ball with Billie and
Johnnie Bushytail, Sammie Littletail, and Bully, the frog, besides some
other friends of his. They were having a fine time, knocking the ball this
way and that, just as if the ball didn't care what happened to it. When it
came Jimmie's turn to bat, he called out:
"Watch me knock it away over the tree," and land sakes, goodness me and a
pop-corn cake! if that ball didn't fly away over the tree, just like a
little bird. Well,--Jimmie was pretty proud, I can tell you, and he was
such a good hitter that Bully said:
"Let Jimmie knock some more balls for us to catch."
So he did, after Billie Bushytail had run to get the one that went over
the tree, and brought it back.
Well, so the game went on, and pretty soon, oh, I guess it must have been
about as long as it takes to eat two pieces of bread and butter, but not
with jam on, mind you; I guess in about that time, it was Billie
Bushytail's turn to bat. And just as he stepped up to hit the ball, if all
the boy animals didn't see something black moving along by the hedge
fence. It was black and round and shiny, this moving object was, and as
soon as Sammie Littletail saw it he cried out:
"Oh, there's a bad fox. Let's see who can hit him."
So they all caught up stones to throw at the bad fox, to drive him away.
Jimmie had the largest stone, and he could throw the straightest, so it is
no wonder he hit the tall, round, shining black thing by the hedge. But
this is the funny part of it, that black thing wasn't a fox at all. No,
siree!
It was Grandfather Goosey-Gander's new tall hat, and that wasn't at all
funny, I do assure you. And the worst part of it was that Grandfather
Goosey-Gander was under that hat! For, you know, a tall hat couldn't walk
along by a hedge, all alone its own self, now, could it? Of course, I know
it could if this were a fairy story, but it isn't.
[Illustration]
Well, something dreadful happened. The stone which Jimmie threw hit
grandfather's tall hat, went inside, just grazing the top of the old
gentleman duck's head, and then, what do you think? Well, I don't
believe you could guess if you tried a week, so I'll tell you.
That stone came out on the other side. It went right through the hat,
making a hole where it went in, and another hole where it came out. Two
holes; you could easily have counted them if you had been there.
Of course, as soon as Jimmie heard the noise, made by the stone which he
threw, hitting the hat, he could tell by the plinkity-plunkity sound that
there was going to be trouble. And there was.
Grandfather Goosey-Gander jumped up in the air. He uttered a loud quack,
and then he took off his tall hat. He looked at the two ragged holes in
it, and then he looked over at the boys in the field. He knew right away
they had done it, but he didn't know which one. Jimmie, however, was a
good boy, and he wasn't going to have any one else blamed for what _he_
had done. So he ran to where his grandfather stood, sorrowfully looking at
his hat, and Jimmie said:
"I did it, grandpa. I cannot tell a story. I did it with my little stone."
"Ha! Hum! Did you; eh?" cried Grandfather Goosey-Gander. "Well, that's a
pretty bad thing to do, Jimmie. This is my best hat. I put it on to go
down to the bank, to put money in. I mean to put money in the bank, not in
the hat, of course. I always wear it when I go to the bank, so folks will
know I am rich. Now I can't wear it any more. It's too bad!" And the old
gentleman duck looked very sorrowful.
"Yes," agreed Jimmie, "it is too bad," for he couldn't think of anything
else to say.
"You will have to pay for a new hat for me," went on his grandfather.
"I haven't any money," said Jimmie, and tears began to run down his broad,
yellow bill, for the little boy duck felt pretty bad, I can tell you.
"You will have to save up all the pennies you get," decided Grandfather
Goosey-Gander. "Boys should not be so careless."
"We thought you were a fox," said Billie Bushytail.
"And we all threw stones at you," added Sammie Littletail.
"But I'm the only one who hit your hat, though," admitted Jimmie.
"Do I look like a fox?" demanded the old duck. "That's what I want to
know. Do I look like a fox?" Well, of course, you know he didn't, and the
ball players had to admit it. "You will have to pay for my hat, Jimmie,"
grandpa continued, looking again at two ragged holes. "Have you any money
now?"
"No," said Jimmie, and he was crying real hard by this time. Then all the
other boys felt badly, too, and they were just looking in their pockets to
see if they had any money, but they hadn't. All they had was some marbles,
and tops, and broken knives, and chewing gum, all sticky, and some
strings.
Then it began to look as if Grandfather Goosey-Gander would never have a
new hat, but, all at once, there was a buzzing sound in the air, and what
should come flying along but a darning needle. You know what I mean: one
of those funny, long bugs sometimes called a dragon fly, with beautiful
wings, and long legs and body.
"What is the trouble?" asked the darning needle, and then the boys told
him about the broken hat. "Ah," said the darning needle, careless-like,
"do not distress yourself, Jimmie. I know you are a good boy. To fix that
hat is a mere trifle for me, and I'll do it."
And what did that dragon-fly-darning-needle do but buzz back and forth,
all around the holes in Grandfather Goosey-Gander's tall hat, right
through the hat itself, until he had the holes all sewed up, and you could
hardly tell where they were.
Then Mrs. Spider came along, and she spun some glossy silk web over the
places where the seams were, and presto-chango! if that hat wasn't as good
as ever!
Well, you can just imagine how glad Jimmie was that he didn't have to pay
for it. And his grandpa was pleased, too, and so were the boys. Then the
darning needle flew away, Mrs. Spider crawled off, Grandfather
Goosey-Gander went to the bank, the boys played ball some more and
everything was lovely.
Now, if the window curtain doesn't fly up lickety-split and come off the
roller, I'll tell you to-morrow night about Jimmie flying a kite.
STORY XXX
JIMMIE WIBBLEWOBBLE'S KITE
Jimmie Wibblewobble was out flying his kite. He had made it all himself,
out of sticks, and paste, and paper and strings, and it was a very fine
kite indeed. It was nearly as large as the little boy duck, and it was the
kind of a kite that doesn't need a tail. That was good, because a tail
gets all tangled up in the weeds.
Well, Jimmie was flying his kite, and the wind was pretty strong, and the
kite was pulling real hard, just like a little dog pulls, when you tie a
rope to his collar, and he wants to get away. Pretty soon along came
Bully, the frog.
"Does your kite pull much?" he asked.
"Does it?" replied Jimmie. "Well, I should say it did!"
"Let me hold it a minute, will you?" asked Bully, and Jimmie very kindly
let him. Then along came Billie and Johnnie Bushytail, and Sammie
Littletail, and they all took turns holding the kite.
Well now, in a few minutes, something dreadful is going to happen to
Jimmie. I tell you in advance so you won't be frightened, and, really,
there is no need to be, for I'll see to it that, after the thing happens,
Jimmie will be all right again. Now if you watch, and listen closely, you
can tell the moment the thing happens. It's almost time.
The wind kept growing stronger and stronger, and it blew the dust up in a
cloud, and it blew bits of paper and sticks along with the dust, and
raised a dreadful commotion.
Then long came Alice and Lulu Wibblewobble. They had been to the store for
their mamma, and had just come back. They felt the strong wind blowing on
their feathers, and Alice said to her brother:
"You had better take down your kite, Jimmie. The wind may blow it away,
and you with it."
"Oh, I guess I can hold it," answered the little boy duck, as he let out
some more cord. The kite was now almost out of sight, and it was pulling
harder than ever.
Then, all at once, if Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the two puppy dogs,
didn't come along. Jackie had his white spot on his nose, and Peetie had
his black spot on his nose, so that you could tell them apart. And those
two doggies felt so full of fun that they ran right up and made believe
bite Jimmie's yellow heels.
Now you know it feels queer to have two puppy dogs biting your heels, even
if it is only in fun, and as soon as Jimmie felt Jackie and Peetie nipping
him, he turned around quickly and cried out:
"Oh, don't do that!"
But the minute he looked around, if the kite string didn't get tangled in
his legs, and then if the wind didn't blow a regular strong blast, the
kind that howls down the chimney on a cold night; and oh, dear me,
suz-dud! if Jimmie wasn't carried right up in the air by his kite! There,
I told you something would happen, and it did! Maybe you'll believe me
next time.
Well, up and up and up went Jimmie, pulled by the kite, until he was quite
high in the air, hanging dingling, dangling down--O! by his yellow heels.
Oh, it was a perfectly dreadful position to be in! really it was, and I'm
not fooling a bit, honestly.
"Oh, oh! Save him!" cried Lulu.
"Yes, somebody get him down; please do!" added Alice, flapping her wings.
Billie Bushytail tried to jump up in the air, and grab hold of poor
Jimmie, but he couldn't reach him, and then Sammie Littletail, he tried,
but he couldn't reach him, and all the while poor Jimmie was being
carried higher and higher by the kite.
"Save me! Oh, save me!" he cried, but there didn't seem to be any way of
getting him down, and it began to look as if he would go right up to the
sky.
On the ground Lulu and Alice were running here and there, flapping their
wings and quacking, and Billie and Johnnie Bushytail were chattering, and
as for Sammie Littletail, he made a noise just like a rabbit. Oh, there
was great excitement, I can tell you!
Mr. Cock A. Doodle, the rooster, he came running out, and he crowed as
loud as ever he could crow, as if that could do any good. Then he flapped
his wings as hard as he could, and that didn't do any good, either. Jimmie
kept going farther and farther away.
"Oh, will no one save him?" asked Lulu, crying big tears.
"Wait a minute, I'll try it!" said Bully, the frog. "I am a good jumper,
and I'll jump up. Maybe I can pull the kite down." So he jumped up as high
as ever he could, but it wasn't nearly high enough, and Bully came back on
the ground, ker-thump, ker-bump! and Jimmie Wibblewobble kept on going
up. Poor Bully hurt his ankle, too, and he was lame for some days.
"Run and tell Grandfather Goosey-Gander," cried Lulu. "Maybe he can think
up a way of getting Jimmie down."
So they all ran and told the old gentleman duck, for Mr. and Mrs.
Wibblewobble were away that afternoon. Grandfather Goosey-Gander hurried
out, and he squinted up at Jimmie, who looked only about as big as a baby
chicken now, he was so far away, and then the Grandfather flapped his
wings.
"Nothing can save him!" said Grandfather Goosey-Gander, very solemnly,
"Jimmie has gone to the sky!"
Then, oh, how badly Lulu and Alice felt for their little brother! and all
the others felt badly, too, for they liked Jimmie. But don't get excited
now. All will be well in a very few minutes. Do not fear.
Bully, the frog, made one more jump, hoping to reach the kite, and pull it
down, but he might as well have tried to jump over the moon, which only a
hey-diddle-diddle-cat-and-the-fiddle-cow can do. Well, it looked as if
Jimmie was gone for ever, when, all at once, there was a rushing of wings,
and who should appear, but a kind fish hawk, that once gave Johnnie and
Billie Bushytail a ride on his back.
"I will save Jimmie!" cried the fish hawk.
So he flew up in the air, right to the kite, and, with his strong beak, he
tore a hole in the paper to let the air through. Then the kite came gently
down, just like a red balloon, or maybe a blue one, that you get at the
circus, and some one sticks a pin in it. Yes, the kite came gently down,
and Jimmie came with it, and that's how he was saved!
And, maybe he wasn't glad! Well, I just guess, and some cornstarch pudding
besides! Of course Peetie and Jackie were very sorry for biting Jimmie's
heels and never did it again. Now, if I don't get stung by a bee, I'll
tell you to-morrow night about Alice in a bag.
[Illustration]
STORY XXXI
ALICE WIBBLEWOBBLE IN A BAG
You remember I told you last night about Jimmie Wibblewobble being carried
up by a kite. Well, when his papa and mamma came home that evening, they
heard all about it, and how much excitement there was, and they told
Jimmie he must be more particular after this. He promised that he would be
very careful.
"I'll fly smaller kites," he said, and he went out the next time with one
about the size of a postage stamp, and that couldn't take any one up in
the air, you know, except, maybe, a mosquito, and they don't count.
Well, it was about two days after this that something happened to Alice.
You see she had been sent to the store for a yeast cake and some prunes,
for her mamma was going to make prune bread--that is, bread with prunes in
it, and it's very nice, I assure you, for I've eaten it.
As Alice was coming home, through a lonely part of the woods, where the
trees were so thick that it was almost dark, she began to feel a little
bit frightened. So, to stop herself from feeling scared she began to sing.
If she had been a boy, she would have shouted, or if she had been Lulu
she would have whistled, for Lulu could whistle as good as could Jimmie.
But instead Alice sang, and this is the song she made up so she wouldn't
be frightened. You are allowed to sing it if you are not more than
seven-and-three-quarters years old. If you are any older than that you
will have to have a special excuse; or some one else will have to sing it
for you. Well, this is the song:
"I'm not afraid to wander
In woodlands dark and drear,
For who is there to harm me
When not a soul is near?
The birds, the trees and flowers
Are kind as kind can be,
I'm sure that not a single one
Would do a thing to me.
"The bugs and pretty butterflies
Will form a fairy band
And guard me safely while I walk
Throughout this dark woodland.
But just the same, I'll hurry,
And not stay here too long;
Because, you see, I only know
Two verses of this song."
Well, as soon as Alice finished singing, land sakes! goodness, gracious
me! if a big fox didn't pop out from behind a tree, and before Alice could
say "How do you do?" or even "Good afternoon," or anything like that, if
he didn't grab her by the legs and put her into a bag he carried over his
shoulder, and then he tied the bag tight and started to run away.
"Oh! Oh!" cried Alice. "Let me out! Please let me out of this bag, Mr.
Fox, and I'll give you all the money I've got saved up in my bank! Honest,
I will; every cent in my bank!"
"No," answered the fox savagely. "I don't want your money. What good would
money be to me? I can't eat money! Ha! ha! ha!" and he laughed that way
three times, just like a mooley cow.
"Are you going to eat me?" asked Alice, from inside the bag, where she was
trembling so that she squashed the yeast cake all out, as flat as a
pancake on a cold winter morning, when you have brown sausage gravy and
maple syrup to pour on it.
"Eat you? Of course, I'm going to eat you!" cried the fox. "That is why I
caught you. But I can't decide whether to have you boiled or roasted. It's
quite trying not to know. I must make up my mind soon, however."
Then he ran on some more, over the hills, bumpity-bump, with poor Alice
jouncing around in that bag, and the little duck girl wished the fox would
be a long time making up his mind which way to cook her, for she thought
that maybe Jimmie might come and save her in the meanwhile.
"It didn't do much good to sing that song," thought Alice, and I suppose
it didn't, but you know you can't always have what you want in this world.
Oh, my, no, and a bottle of cough medicine besides.
Well, the old fox hurried on, with Alice in the bag and he ran fast to get
to his den, and pretty soon the little duck girl felt him coming to a
stop. Then she heard some one saying:
"Ah, good day, Mr. Fox; what have you in that bag?"
"I have apples in this bag," said the fox. Oh, but wasn't he the bold, bad
story-telling fox, though?
"Apples, eh?" asked the voice again, and then Alice knew right away who it
was. Can you guess? No? Well, I'll tell you. It was Nurse Jane
Fuzzy-Wuzzy, the kind old muskrat lady. It was she who had asked the
question.
"Oh, so you have apples in there?" Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy repeated to the fox.
"Well, now, do you know," she went on, "I am very fond of apples. I wish
you would give me one."
"No," answered the bad fox, "I can't. These are very special apples, very
sour, in fact, and I'm sure you wouldn't like them."
"Oh, I just love sour apples," said the muskrat, moving nearer to the fox,
and showing her sharp teeth, like the carpenter's chisel when he shaves
the door down to make it smaller. "I just love sour apples," said the
nurse.
"Oh, I made a mistake, these are sweet apples," said the fox, quickly,
waggling his big tail like a dusting brush.
"I made a mistake, too," went on Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy. "I guess I love sweet
apples instead of sour ones."
"You will have to excuse me," again spoke the fox quickly. "I made two
mistakes. These apples are half sweet and half sour, and not good at all."
"If there is anything I am fonder of than anything else it's a half sweet
and a half sour apple," declared the muskrat, and she showed her teeth
some more, as if she were smiling, only she wasn't. She was getting ready
to bite the bad fox, I guess.
Just then Alice moved around in the bag, hoping Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy would see
her, and what's more, the kind muskrat nurse did. "Ah!" she exclaimed,
"you have moving apples, I see. I just love moving apples."
Then the fox knew it was of no use to tell any more stories, so he started
to hurry off with Alice in the bag. But Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy jumped right at
him, and she bit him on the nose, and on his front legs and on his hind
legs, until he was glad enough to drop the bag containing poor Alice, and
run away, over the hills, as fast as he could go.
Then the muskrat gnawed open the bag, and Alice came out, her feathers all
ruffled up, but she was not much hurt; only the yeast cake was all
squashed out of shape, like a piece of putty. Then Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy took
Alice home safely, and nothing more happened right away.
Well, now, to-morrow night, let's see. Ha! Hum! Oh, how careless of me! Of
course there isn't going to be any story to-morrow night, because we're at
the end of this book. You can see for yourself, if you look carefully,
that there are no more stories in it; not a single one.
But, listen, as the telephone girl says; I think, in case that you liked
the stories about the ducks, that I will write something about the
adventures of Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow; you know, those two puppy dogs
who once took Alice home after she had been on a visit to Sister Sallie,
and was afraid to go out in the dark.
I have quite a number of stories about those two puppy dogs; Peetie, you
know, who was all white with a black spot on his nose, and Jackie, who was
all black with a white spot on his nose. So if you want to read about them
you may do so in the next book of the Bed Time series, which will be
called "Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow," and the book will have in it some
pictures of the doggies; and tell how they had a show, and built a swing,
and got lost, and ran away to join a circus, and did ever so many things
that it was really astonishing; honestly it was!
Well, I think I'll say good night now, for I must get right to work on
that other book. So go to sleep, and be good children, and maybe you'll
dream about Peetie and Jackie--who knows?
THE END
* * * * *
Books for Boys by Howard R. Garis
* * * * *
_Those Smith Boys Series_ 12mo, finely illustrated. Price 75c each,
postpaid
Those Smith Boys
OR THE MYSTERY OF THE THUMBLESS MAN
Those Smith Boys on the Diamond
OR NIP AND TUCK FOR VICTORY
OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPARATION
* * * * *
_The Island Boys Series_
12mo, finely illustrated. Price 75c each, postpaid
The Island Boys
OR FUN AND ADVENTURES ON LAKE MODOK
The Island Boys in Camp
OR THE SECRET OF THE FALLING WATER
OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPARATION
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Books for Little Folk
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_The Bedtime Stories Series_ Illustrated in color, with fine cover design
A story for every night in the month. Price 75c each, postpaid
Sammie and Susie Littletail
31 RABBIT STORIES
Johnnie and Billie Bushytail
31 SQUIRREL STORIES
Lulu, Alice and Jimmie Wibblewobble
31 DUCK STORIES
Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow
31 DOG STORIES
Uncle Wiggily's Adventures
31 RABBIT STORIES