SKEEZUCKS GETS A NAME
When the three small girls, so rosy of cheek and so sparkling of eye,
confronted the grave little pilgrim he could only gaze upon them with
timid yearning as he clung to his doll and to old "Bruvver Jim." There
never had been in all his life a vision so beautiful. Old Jim himself
was affected almost as much as the quaint, wee man so quietly standing
at his side. Even Tintoretto was experiencing ecstasies heretofore
unknown in his youthful career.
Indeed, no one could have determined by any known system of calculation
whether Jim or tiny Skeezucks or the pup most enjoyed the coming of the
preacher and his family. Old Jim had certainly never before undergone
emotions so deeply stirring. Tintoretto had never before beheld four
youngsters affording such a wealth of opportunity for puppy-wise
manoeuvres; indeed, he had never before seen but one little playfellow
since his advent in the world. He was fairly crazed with optimism. As
for Skeezucks--starving for even so much as the sight of children,
hungering beyond expression for the sound of youngster voices, for the
laughter and over-bubblings of the little folk with whom by rights he
belonged--nothing in the way of words will ever tell of the almost
overpowering excitement and joy that presently leaped in his lonely
little heart.
Honesty is the children's policy. There was nothing artificial in the
way those little girls fell in love with tiny Skeezucks; and with
equally engaging frankness the tiny man instantly revealed his fondness
for them all.
They were introduced as Susie and Rachie and Ellie. Their other name
was Stowe. This much being soon made known, the three regarded their
rights to the house, to little Skeezucks, and to Tintoretto as
established. They secured the pup by two of his paws and his tail,
and, with him thus in hand, employed him to assist in surrounding tiny
Skeezucks, whom they promptly kissed and adopted.
"Girls," said the father, mildly, "don't be rude."
"They're all right," drawled Jim, in a new sort of pleasure. "There
are some kinds of rudeness a whole lot nicer than politeness."
"What's his name?" said Susie, lifting her piquant little face up to
Jim, whom all the Stowe family had liked at once. "Has he got any
name?"
In a desperate groping for his inspiration, Jim thought instantly of
all his favorites--Diogenes, Plutarch, Endymion, Socrates, Kit Carson,
and Daniel Boone.
"Wal, yes. His name--" and there old Jim halted, while "Di" and "Plu"
and "Indy" and "Soc" all clamored in his brain for the honor. "His
name--I reckon his name is Carson Boone."
"Little Carson," said Rachie. "Isn't Carson a sweet little boy, mammy?
What's he got--a rabbit?"
"That's his doll," said Jim.
"Oh, papa, look!" said Rachie.
"Oh, papa, look!" echoed Susie.
"Papa, yook!" piped Ellie, the youngest, who wanted the dolly for
herself, and, therefore, hauled at it lustily.
The others endeavored to prevent her depredations. Between them they
tore the precious creation from the hands of the tiny man, and released
the pup, who immediately leaped up and fastened a hold on the doll
himself, to the horror of the preacher, Miss Doc, old Jim, Mrs. Stowe,
and Skeezucks, all of whom, save the newly christened little Carson,
pounced upon the children, the doll, and Tintoretto, with one accord.
And there is nothing like a pounce upon a lot of children or a pup to
make folks well acquainted.
Her "powder-flask" ladyship being duly rescued, her raiment smoothed,
and her head readjusted on her body, the three small, healthy girls
were perpetually enjoined from another such exhibition of coveting
their neighbor's doll, whereupon all conceived that new diversion must
be forthwith invented.
"You can have a lot of fun with all them Christmas presents in the
corner," Jim informed them, in the great relief he felt himself to see
the quaint little foundling once more in undisputed possession of his
one beloved toy. "They 'ain't got any feelin's."
Miss Doc had carefully piled the presents in a tidy pyramid against the
wall, in the corner designated, after which she had covered the pile
with a sheet. This sheet came off in a hurry. The pup filled his
mouth with a yard of the white material, and, growling in joy, shook it
madly and raced away with it streaming in his wake. Miss Doc and Mrs.
Stowe gave chase immediately. Tintoretto tripped at once, but even
when the women had caught the sheet in their hands he hung on
prodigiously, and shook the thing, and growled and braced his weight
against their strength, to the uncontainable delight of all the little
Stowe contingent.
Then they fell on the presents, to which they conveyed little Carson,
in the intimate way of hugging in transit that only small mothers-to-be
have ever been known to develop.
"Oh, papa, look at the funny old bottle!" said Susie, taking up one of
the "sort of kaliderscopes" in her hand.
"Papa, mamma, look!" added Rachie.
"Papa--yook!" piped Ellie, as before, laying violent hands of
possession on the toy.
"You can have it," said Susie; "I'm goin' to have the red wagon."
"Oh, papa, look at the pretty red wagon!", said Rachie, dropping
another of the kaleidoscopes with commendable promptness.
"Me!--yed yaggon!" cried Ellie.
"Children, children!" said the preacher, secretly amused and
entertained. "Don't you know the presents all belong to little Carson?"
"Well, we didn't get anything but mittens and caps," said Rachie, in
the baldest of candor.
"Go ahead and enjoy the things," instructed Jim. "Skeezucks, do you
want the little girls to play with all the things?"
The little fellow nodded. He was happier far than ever he had been in
all his life.
"But they ought to play with one thing at a time, and not drop one
after another," said the mild Mrs. Stowe, blushing girlishly.
"I like to see them practise at changin' their minds," drawled the
miner, philosophically. "I'd be afraid of a little gal that didn't
begin to show the symptoms."
But all three of the bright-eyed embryos of motherhood had united on a
plan. They sat the grave little Carson in the red-painted wagon, with
his doll held tightly to his heart, and began to haul him about.
Tintoretto, who had dragged off an alphabetical block, was engrossed in
the task of eating off and absorbing the paint and elements of
education, with a gusto that savored of something that might and might
not have been ambition. He abandoned this at once, however, to race
beside or behind or before the wagon, and to help in the pulling by
laying hold of any of the children's dresses that came most readily
within reach of his jaws.
The ride became a romp, for the pup was barking, the wheels were
creaking, and the three small girls were crying out and laughing at the
tops of their voices. They drew their royal coach through every room
in the house--which rooms were five in number--and then began anew.
Back and forth and up and down they hastened, the pup and tiny
Skeezucks growing more and more delighted as their lively little
friends alternately rearranged him, kissed him, crept on all fours
beside him, and otherwise added adornments to the pageant. In an
outburst of enthusiasm, Tintoretto made a gulp at the off hind-wheel of
the wagon, and, sinking his teeth in the wood thereof, not only
prevented its revolutions, but braced so hard that the smallest girl,
who was pulling at the moment, found herself suddenly stalled. To her
aid her two sturdy little sisters darted, and the three gave a mighty
tug, to haul the pup and all.
But the unexpected happened. The wheel came off. The pup let out a
yell of consternation and turned a back somersault; the three little
Stowes went down in a heap of legs and heads, while the wagon lurched
abruptly and gave the tiny passenger a jolt that astonished him
mightily. The three small girls scrambled to their feet, awed into
silence by their breaking of the wagon.
For a moment the hush was impressive. Then the gravity began to go
from the face of little Carson. Something was dancing in his eyes.
His quaint little face wrinkled oddly in mirth. His head went back,
and the sweetest conceivable chuckle of baby laughter came from his
lips. Like joy of bubbling water in a brook, it rippled in music never
before awakened. Old Jim and Miss Doc looked at each other in complete
amazement, but the little fellow laughed and laughed and laughed. His
heart was overflowing, suddenly, with all the laughing and joy that had
never before been invited to his heart. The other youngsters joined
him in his merriment, and so did the preacher and pretty Mrs. Stowe;
and so did Jim and Miss Doc, but these two laughed with tears warmly
welling from their eyes.
It seemed as if the fatherless and motherless little foundling laughed
for all the days and weeks and months of sadness gone beyond his baby
recall. And this was the opening only of his frolic and fun with the
children. They kissed him in fondness, and planted him promptly in a
second of the wagons. They knew a hundred devices for bringing him joy
and merriment, not the least important of which was the irresistible
march of destruction on the rough-made Christmas treasures.
That evening a dozen rough and awkward men of the camp came casually in
to visit Miss Doc, whose old-time set of thoughts and ideas had been
shattered, till in sheer despair of getting them all in proper order
once again she let them go and joined in the general outbreak of
amusement.
There were games of hide-and-seek, in which the four happy children and
the men all joined with equal irresponsibility, and games of
blind-man's-buff, that threatened the breaking to pieces of the house.
Through it all, old Jim and the preacher, Mrs. Stowe and Miss Doc were
becoming more and more friendly.
At last the day and the evening, too, were gone. The tired youngsters,
all but little Skeezucks, fell asleep, and were tucked into bed. Even
the pup was exhausted. Field and the blacksmith, Lufkins, Bone, Keno,
and the others thought eagerly of the morrow, which would come so soon,
and go so swiftly, and leave them with no little trio of girls romping
with their finally joyous bit of a boy.
When at length they were ready to say good-night to tiny Carson, he was
sitting again on the knee of the gray old miner. To every one he gave
a sweet little smile, as they took his soft, baby hand for a shake.
And when they were gone, and sleep was coming to hover him softly in
her wings, he held out both his little arms in a gesture of longing
that seemed to embrace the three red caps and all this happier world he
began to understand.
"Somebody--wants 'ittle--Nu-thans," he sighed, and his tiny mouth was
smiling when his eyes had closed.