_The Scrapbooks Crow Told About_
JIMSI had been so busy that morning that I do believe she had quite
forgotten the all-important surprise that the good crow promised her
in the afternoon. When she came home to Aunt Phoebe’s and put the
round-robin letter under Aunt Phoebe’s luncheon plate, she thought of
it. “I wonder what it can be,” she mused. “Oh, I do wonder.” Then she
flew upstairs to wash the paint off her hands before the bell tinkled
in the hall. She had just time to brush her hair and wash up. Then she
heard Aunt Phoebe’s little maid going out to ring, ding-a-ling-a-ling!
Jimsi trotted softly downstairs and peeped into the dining-room.
No! Aunt Phoebe had not found the crow letter yet! She was innocent
about her plate—No! _she_ didn’t know what was under it! Jimsi almost
giggled, but she covered the giggle with her napkin and made it over
into a cough.
“I’m afraid you’ve taken cold,” suggested Aunt Phoebe. “Have you had
that cough long—I’m sure I should have noticed it”—
“No. I haven’t any cold,” protested Jimsi, “really I haven’t, Aunt
Phoebe.” Here she felt again like giggling over the letter concealed
under Aunt Phoebe’s plate and had to cough again.
“Well,” declared the play aunt, “I’ll have to stop that cough! Did you
wear your rubbers?”
“Honest injun!”
“It isn’t anything—just—er—er—Oh, nothing!”
“I hope so.”
The talk drifted to the morning. “What did you and Joyce find to do?”
asked Aunt Phoebe.
“We embroidered and painted.”
“You always have a nice time there, don’t you, dear?”
“Yes, Aunt Phoebe.”
Jimsi wanted to tell all about it, but—how could she till after Aunt
Phoebe found the crow letter. She waited. After what seemed a long
time, the little maid changed the plates and lo—why _there was a
letter right under Aunt Phoebe’s plate_!
“Oh, the mischief,” laughed Aunt Phoebe, “I do believe the crow has
been here! Jimsi, was _that_ why you were coughing, you sinner! I
think you must have seen the crow leave it. Well, you wait! There’s a
surprise coming to _you_, young lady!” And she tore open the letter.
“I’ll read it to you, aloud, Jimsi,” she said. “Shall I?”
It was part of crow play to pretend one hadn’t any knowledge at all of
having been _the_ one to write crow letters that one saw afterwards.
So Jimsi listened to the round-robin as Aunt Phoebe soberly read it
and exclaimed how very lovely the note-paper was. When she came to
the pattern, she was really delighted. “How clever of the crow,”
she laughed. “I was wanting a new embroidery pattern and here the
thoughtful crow has brought it. How kind of him!” She said she was
going to transfer it to some linen right away. She was so interested
that they went to look over Jimsi’s Magic Book to see if there were
embroidery patterns and stencil designs in that as well as in the
little lame girl’s book.
Yes, there were. The two of them became so interested that nap-time
almost passed. A whole fifteen minutes went by without either Aunt
Phoebe or Jimsi’s knowing it. When the little desk clock gave a faint
chime of two Aunt Phoebe jumped. “Oh, dear!” she exclaimed. “I must be
off. Oh, Jimsi, how could you let me stay! Oh, you didn’t know—well,
run right upstairs and take that nap and don’t come down till half-past
three, _remember_!” With that Aunt Phoebe dashed into her cloak and
hat. “I had a _most_ important engagement to meet somebody! Oh, dear!”
And she was gone.
Jimsi walked upstairs and took off her dress and put on her kimono. As
her hand snuggled under her pillow, it met something long and hard.
Jimsi grasped it and drew forth—a crow present! It was a stick of
peppermint candy. She couldn’t go to sleep at first. She lay there with
the peppermint stick wondering _what_ the crow’s splendid surprise was
going to be. She couldn’t guess at all. Finally, she remembered that
she was honor-bound to go to sleep. Of course, one can’t always go
to sleep when one wants to, but Jimsi began to try hard. She covered
her head with the comforter and cuddled into a more cosy position.
She shut her eyes and then, the first thing she knew, Aunt Phoebe was
bending over her saying, “Wake up, Jimsi! Wake up! You’ve had an extra
long nap and crow has been to The Happy Shop and left you a surprise!”
So Jimsi jumped into her dress and tore down the front stairs
two steps at a time. Oh, she knew it was going to be a splendid
surprise—perfectly splendid! But she really wasn’t expecting the kind
of a surprise that awaited her, for as she opened the doors of The
Happy Shop who should pop up from behind a screen but Mother and Henry
and little sister Katherine! Oh, _Oh!_
What a hugging there was! Why, they had to hug twice around and even
Henry, who didn’t like to be kissed, seemed so happy to see Jimsi that
he had to kiss her, too! How lovely and how lovely and how _lovely_!
Oh, what fun! Now, Mother and Henry and Jimsi’s little sister could all
see The Happy Shop and help find play in the Magic Book. Hadn’t Jimsi
just been longing to have them all right there! Hadn’t she written them
long letters about it! Oh, this was almost too good to be true!
“But how did you happen to come?” inquired Jimsi. “Doesn’t Henry have
to go to school?”
“Well, we all wanted to see our Jimsi,” Mother explained. “I couldn’t
come without Katherine, and Henry wanted to see you so badly that I
decided one day out of school wouldn’t hurt if he made up the work. So
you can show us the crow plays and the Magic Book, Jimsi!”
“I want to see Crow!” urged little sister Katherine. So Jimsi took them
to the shelf in Aunt Phoebe’s study where her big crow perched on the
twig. The shelf was so high that baby Katherine thought the crow was
really alive. He didn’t look stuffed. Even Henry was almost deceived.
“Isn’t he really true?” he kept asking.
“Of course he’s true,” returned Jimsi. “Haven’t we always played crow
ever since we can remember?”
But she didn’t refer to Aunt Phoebe’s crow as just a stuffed crow. He
was a play crow, you know. There _is_ a great distinction, even though
you may not know it.
Henry wasn’t interested in paper dolls or paper doll furniture. But
Katherine was. Henry sniffed. “Oh, _I_ don’t care for Magic Books that
make paper dolls,” but Katherine wanted to look at them all. So did
Mother. Finally, Mother decided to take Katherine over to the couch and
let Jimsi and Henry play the shadow motion pictures—at least examine
them. Katherine sat on a stool beside Mother, and Mother watched to see
that no paper dolls were torn by clumsy little fingers that didn’t know
how easily paper tears.
Aunt Phoebe had brought her fancy work pattern down to show Mother. She
had a work-basket and was prepared to start her fancy work.
Oh, but wasn’t this splendid!
They had afternoon tea out in The Happy Shop, too. Jimsi and Henry and
Katherine had cocoa—but Mother and Aunt Phoebe had _tea_, and the Good
Crow had to be brought in and put close to the tea-table. Aunt Phoebe
talked for him as she had on the night of Jimsi’s arrival. And the crow
always said, “Caw-caw,” when he was addressed by any member of the
circle. He was a beautiful play crow. Katherine would have liked to
kiss him, but kissing him as hard as Katherine kissed would hurt, Aunt
Phoebe explained. She let the baby stroke the glossy plumage and say,
“Pretty, pretty!” (You know an ordinary crow isn’t exactly pretty, but
his plumage is a beautiful satiny black—all glossy. And Jimsi insisted
that Caw Caw _was_ beautiful.)
Henry said he didn’t think Caw Caw was pretty, but _he_ thought the
crow was good, all right. Henry, you see, was ever so interested in the
motion pictures crow had invented, and he had to fix all the different
plays that Jimsi had cut out and arrange the scenery on the motion
picture screen. He thought this the greatest amusement. He wanted to
try the play with a candle. Jimsi and he went off to a dark corner to
work the motion pictures and they played _Alice in Wonderland_ and made
the White Rabbit run about in a most realistic way. Then, before they
knew it was so late, they were called to dinner. How time does fly!
Just when they had finished dinner and desert was being served, Henry
happened to look up at the crow perched on the shelf where Aunt Phoebe
had put him—and if the crow didn’t have a letter in his bill!
“Why, look-look!” exclaimed Henry. “Look!” There was nothing to do,
once having seen it, but to jump up from the table right then and there
to go get that letter.
It proved to be a letter to Henry. He read it aloud.
[Illustration: THE SCRAPBOOKS THAT THE CHILDREN MADE WITH WALL PAPER
COVERS]
“DEAR HENRY:
There’s something you will like to make in the Magic
Book. You can make a scrapbook. Use the heavy wall
paper for the cover of the book and cut the scrapbook
leaves from heavy Manilla wrapping paper. Aunt Phoebe
has wrapping paper. Ask her for it.
To make a scrapbook, take a big full-sized sheet from
the Magic Book of wall paper. (I’m sure Jimsi will let
you choose the paper you like best.) Fold the sheet
together and clip the edges evenly. Glue the double
edges fast together and let them dry.
While the cover is drying, fold your Manilla wrapping
paper several times to fit the cover. Then cut the
sheets and trim them properly to fit.
Next, place the cover flat and all the leaves on top of
it.
Make two holes with an awl or a puncher. Let the holes
go through leaves and cover. Then string a tape or
ribbon through the holes and tie the cover on. Then
fold cover and leaves together and the scrapbook is
done!
These scrapbooks are very nice to use for
stamp collections. You can paste cards in them
too—postal-cards, if you like. You can also use them to
make botanical scrapbooks in summer. I think, however,
that you’ll like to use yours for stamps.
Jimsi will give you enough paper to make a photograph
album too, I’m sure. You can put your snap shot Brownie
pictures in it.
To make this, use smaller folded Manilla sheets and use
a border pattern of wall paper from the Magic Book.
Try it!
_Your Crow._
P.S.
Tell Mother she can make a scrapbook too. She will find
this kind of scrapbook very useful for keeping magazine
clippings, receipts for cooking, and odds and ends.
P.S. P.S.
You might make one for your daddy. He could keep
newspaper clippings in his.
P.S. P.S. P.S.
Jimsi can make her own and put anything she likes in it.
_Caw Caw._”
At the close of this letter, everybody just laughed. It was so funny!
But everybody was very anxious to try the scrapbooks, so they didn’t
wait for morning. Henry made himself one that very night after dinner.
His was made of beautiful red paper. It was most handsome! He made one
for Mother and one to take home to Father from the crow. He made one,
too, for baby Katherine to put picture cards into. Oh, I tell you Henry
worked hard. He said he’d make one for Jimsi to carry to the little
lame girl, but Jimsi said she thought Joyce might enjoy the fun of
making her own. So Henry started to make himself another—when bed-time
came! He declared he’d finish it in the morning. It was a very splendid
scrapbook—or it was going to be—made with three whole sheets of nice
fresh wrapping paper cut to be eight by fifteen inches. But he went off
to bed to dream of it. Oh, Caw Caw knew what children like to play!
They all said, “Good-night, Crow,” after they had kissed Aunt Phoebe
and Mother good-night, and then all went to dream of Caw Caw making
magic plays with the sample book of wall paper.