Loe raamatut: «More Mittens; with The Doll's Wedding and Other Stories», lehekülg 4

"Well," said Alice, holding her pen over the paper.

"Well," repeated Peter, "Postscript, put that! Got that down?"

"Yes, all written beautifully!" answered Alice.

"Dear mamma, please pertikerlary to bring me a penknife and – " oh, Alice, "a pair of skates and a penknife!" and then the wonderful letter was finished and sent the next morning; and let me tell you, Peter's mother laughed over and enjoyed this letter more than she would have done the finest complimentary epistle from the President of the United States.

You may be sure that Peter got the penknife and his skates, too. With the first, like boys in general, he cut himself about once a day; but he did not care a button for that, but just had his finger tied up by one of his kind sisters, and marched off, without even making a wry face, with his precious knife in his pocket. The skates came, too; but, as there had been no ice as yet, Peter had only tried them on dry ground, which Alice told him was far the best and safest style of skating, and repeated, for his edification, Mother Goose's solemn poem of —

 
"Three children sliding on the ice —
All, on a summer's day —
The ice was thin; they all fell in;
The rest, they ran away.
Now, had these children been at home,
Or sliding on dry ground,
Ten thousand pounds to one penny
They had not all been drowned."
 

All of which was heathen Greek to Peter, or, as he called it, "Stuff!"

One day, soon after her return, Peter's mother took him with her to visit an excellent lady of her acquaintance, who lived near by. They found her sitting in the parlor, with her eldest son and daughter, looking over a new and beautiful book, called Melodies for Childhood. Soon after they were seated the lady said, "Something very amusing happened up-stairs just now. I have a friend here spending the day, who brought her little baby of four months with her. My little girl is just the same age. Of course my friend's baby must have her nap, and I gave her my little one's cradle to sleep in. But my baby was so very much put out at this that she could not sleep at all; and little Harry, who, as you know, is not quite three years old, was so grieved at what he supposed was the wickedness of the other baby, in taking away his sister's property, that he marched up to the cradle – his little breast heaving, his eyes flashing, and his hand raised, while, with high, indignant voice, he asked, "Mamma, sall I SAPP her?" and I had to run to save the little innocent from the impending blow."

Peter listened to all this with very large eyes and all the ears he had, which were only two, and quite small; and when Harry came into the room, a moment after, he rushed up to him, in a prodigious hurry, and cried, "Harry, did you slap her? I would! Let's both go up-stairs and do it now. Give it to her like sixty, for sleeping in your sister's bed!" This proposal so delighted Harry that, in turning round suddenly to go out, he fell over a chair and bumped his nose. Fortunately, this accident kept both the children in the room, and the slapping of the baby had to be postponed.

In the winter time, on the island, the ladies hold sewing meetings, and sew for the poor; and many a warm garment and nice hood is made, and given away to those who otherwise would suffer from the bitter cold.

The pleasantest of these meetings, every one said, was at "Clear Comfort." They, all seemed to feel and acknowledge the sweet spell of the place; and then, Minnie made such wonderful cakes, and the hot biscuit were so light and feathery, that it certainly was the very clearest comfort and enjoyment to eat them, and an inducement to sew ever so much faster afterwards.

It was at one of these delightful meetings that I first met Peter, sitting in front of the splendid wood fire in his own little arm-chair, with his kitten in his lap and a demure twinkle in his blue eye, but not in the least abashed at being the only gentleman in the party.

It was perfectly surprising how many kisses were bestowed upon Peter, and how like a matter of course he took them, and how like a real little gentleman he answered all the questions the ladies asked him; which so delighted a very short, brown lady that she wanted to give him a houseful of books and toys; but, not being quite able to afford that, she sent him on last Christmas eve some stories she had written many years before, accompanied by this string of rhymes, each verse of which must be read in one breath; and, as taking long breaths is beneficial to the lungs, I may as well say that this is about all the merit they have. Here it is. Peter calls it his "Pottery" letter: —

I

 
My dear little Pēt-
Er, so very neat,
With such tiny feet
As can't well be beat;
And dressed up so sweet
That it's quite a treat
To walk up the street,
And take a cool seat
Away from the heat,
On purpose to meet
And kindly to greet
(Almost wishing to eat)
This dear little Pete,
Who lives in the mansion
Called "Comfort Complete."
 

II

 
And now only look!
I send you this book
By Dinah, the cook,
Who is black as a rook;
And she's undertook,
By hook or by crook,
Or by crook or by hook,
To take you this book;
And she shall be shook
If she says she's mistook,
And to the wrong Peter
Has given this book.
 

III

 
I do not affect
To be quite correct,
But I've tried to collect
These stories direct;
Which you may reject,
If the least disrespect,
Or the smallest neglect,
Or word incorrect
On the subjects elect
You can ever detect.
And please recollect,
That you may suspect
That I wish to protect,
And keep quite select,
My stories for children
I love and respect.
 

IV

 
Then, what will you do?
Why, you'll tie up one shoe;
Then another – that's two
You'd begun to undo;
For all the world knew
You were sleepy "a few."
And looking askew
At the cat, who said "Mew!"
Meaning "Good-night," to you.
You'll wake up anew,
And say, "Mamma, who
Sent this book on view?
Have you the least clue?
I'm afraid she's a shrew,
As the color is blue.
The stories are true,
I supposes; don't you?"
 

V

 
Then she'll say, "My dear,
'Tis Aunt Fanny, I hear.
She's nothing to scare,
For she's little and spare:
She's not very fair,
And as high as a chair."
Then you'll put on an air —
For in this affair
You have a great share —
And say, "I don't care
If she's not very fair,
And so little and spare,
Or as cross as a bear:
I protest and declare
I like her, now – there!"
 

VI

 
And now, Peter, attend!
To me your ear lend.
Your little head bend,
My dear little friend!
And never pretend
You don't comprehend;
But just condescend,
For a very good end,
That face to unbend,
Those fingers extend;
And, smiling, commend
And, frowning, defend
This book that I send.
Say, "Sir, your opinion
You're asked to suspend."
 

VII

 
Then I'll say, "Where'er
You go, and, whene'er
At 'Clear Comfort,' whate'er
You do, and howe'er,
The writer will ne'er
From her inmost heart tear
Little Peter; but wear
A sweet souvenir there
Of her little friend dear,
Which no one shall share
As long as she's here."
 

This "Pottery" pleased Peter very much, and he kept his sisters busy reading the stories in the little book to him.

As Peter is only six years old at present, I cannot possibly tell you the whole of his history; but I will keep my eye upon him all this coming year, and next Christmas, if you like, I will make another story about his funny doings and sayings; or, if you prefer, you can make his acquaintance, personally, in that charming place called Clear Comfort.

THE STORY TOLD TO WILLIE

"Oh, dear mamma!" said Willie, one pleasant summer's afternoon, "do, please, tell me a story – ah, d-o!" and the little fellow put up his rosy mouth and kissed his mother; well knowing that she could not resist his entreaty, backed by so sweet a bribe. What mother can?

"Oh, you little rogue!" answered his mother, returning the caress, "I have told you every story I can recollect, at least twenty times each. Why not run out in the garden with your nice new ball, lying there on the floor, and see how high you can throw it up in the air? You must take more exercise in the open air, my dear little Willie. Let us make a bargain. If you will play half an hour, and come in with a pair of rosy cheeks, I will try to have a story ready for you – a new story."

"Oh, delightful!" cried Willie, and – accustomed to give his mother instant obedience – he caught up his ball and ran off, to obey her, with a sweet, pleasant expression in his face.

Dear little children, it makes such a wonderful difference how you obey your parents. If a boy is requested by his mother to leave his play and go upon an errand for her, and he goes slowly, making dreadful faces, and muttering to himself, "Dear me, why couldn't she send some one else; I hate to go!" do you think he gives his mother as much pleasure as when he says, "Yes, mamma, of course I will!" and runs off to do her bidding with two pleasant dimples in his cheeks? Which is the best way? I think Willie knew. Do you?

Willie was an only child. He had large blue eyes, fair curling hair, and dimpled cheeks; but I am sorry to say his cheeks were pale, for his constitution was very delicate, and, though a frolicksome little fellow, he very soon tired of play, and his greatest pleasure was to sit by his mother and listen to some interesting story.

Solomon has written in the Good Book that "even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right." Children should never forget this. Willie tried to remember it; for he was so obedient, so thoughtful, and so loving, that I am sure, if he is permitted to live, he will grow up a good man.

While Willie was playing, his kind mother, true to her promise, went into the next room, where was a large book-case, to try and find some story that would interest and amuse her little son. Presently she opened a book, in which she chanced upon a story which she thought she could so simplify to his childish understanding as to interest him exceedingly. At this moment, Willie came bounding in – a delicate bloom on his cheeks, and his blue eyes sparkling.

"Well, dear mamma," he cried eagerly, and catching his breath, "I have played ball till my breath is as short as my nose. Is that enough?"

"Quite enough," said his mother, laughing. "Come and sit down, and in a few minutes, I hope, your breath will grow as long as your arm. I think I have a very nice story for you. It is about a fox and some other animals. It was written by a great author. As it is written, it will be almost too old for a little fellow like you, but I will make it younger if I can."

"Oh, that will be excellent!" said Willie, sitting down by his mother and rubbing his hands in a great state of delight. "A fox – only think! Will he talk? I hope he will; and I hope there will be giants and fairies, and – and very good children, and very bad boys, and – oh, every thing!"

His mother laughed again, and said, "There are only animals in this story, but it is very long."

"That's perfect," cried Willie, "I could listen to stories all day and all night; I hope this will last twice as long as possible – I mean," continued he, as his mother laughed at "possible," "very long, indeed, you know."

And now he settled himself on his little bench by the side of his mother, and, folding his hands, fixed his blue eyes upon her face as she began:

THE WOOING OF MASTER FOX

"Once upon a time two very respectable cats, of very old family, had an only daughter, so amiable and beautiful that she was quite the belle of the place."

"How 'belle?'" said Willie.

"Why, she was the best and most beautiful young lady, and received all the presents and attentions."

"Oh, yes!" said Willie.

"Her skin was of the most delicate tortoiseshell; her paws were smoother than velvet; and her fine, white whiskers were twelve inches long, at the least; and then, above all, her eyes, instead of being green, were a lovely hazel, and so gentle that it was quite astonishing in a cat.

"When she was about two years and a half old she was left an orphan – poor thing! with a large fortune. Of course, she had a great many lovers who wanted to marry her; but, without troubling you with all the rest, I will come at once to the two rivals – the dog and the fox.

"Now Beppo, the dog, was a handsome, honest, straightforward, affectionate fellow; and he knew it, for he said:

"'I don't wonder at my cousin's refusing Bruin the bear, and Gauntgrim the wolf. To be sure, they give themselves great airs, and call themselves "noble;" but what then? – Bruin is always in the sulks, and Gauntgrim always in a passion. A cat, of any sense, would lead a miserable life with them. As for me, I am very good-tempered – when I am not put out; and I have no fault, that I know of, except that of being angry, and growling when I am disturbed at my meals. I am young and very good-looking, fond of play and amusement; and, altogether, as amiable a husband as a cat could find in a summer's day. If she marries me, well and good; if not, I hope I shan't be so much in love as to forget that there are other cats in the world.'

"So saying, Beppo threw his tail over his back, and set off to see the cat, as gay as a lark in the spring.

"But the fox had heard him talking to himself – for a fox is always meanly peeping about, into holes and corners, and listening where he has no business – and he burst out a-laughing as soon as Beppo was out of sight.

"'Ho – ho, my fine fellow!' said he, 'not quite so fast, if you please; you've got the fox for a rival, let me tell you.'

"Now, the fox is a beast that can never do any thing without a mean trick; and the cunning fellow was determined to put Beppo's nose out of joint by arriving at the cat's house first. But this was no easy matter; for though Reynard – "

"Reynard?" said Willie.

"That was the fox's name. Reynard could run faster than Beppo for a little way, but he was no match for him in a long journey. 'However,' said Reynard to himself, 'those good-natured creatures are never very wise; I think I know how to fix him.' With that the fox trotted off, by a short cut in the woods, and, getting before the dog, laid himself down by a hole in the earth, and began to make such a dismal howling that you could have heard him a mile off.

"Beppo, on hearing this dismal noise, was terribly frightened. 'See now,' said he, 'if the poor fox has not got himself into some scrape. Those cunning creatures are always in mischief; I'm thankful it never comes into my head to be cunning,' and the good-natured fellow ran off as fast as he could, to see what was the matter with the fox.

"'Oh dear! Oh murder!' cried Reynard, 'what shall I do, what shall I do? my poor little sister has gotten into this hole, and I can't get her out; she'll certainly be smothered,' and he burst out a howling again, more piteously than before.

"'But, my dear Reynard,' said Beppo, 'why don't you go in after your sister?'

"'Ah! oh! you may well ask that,' said the fox; 'but in trying to get in, don't you perceive that I have sprained my back, and can't stir? O dear me! what shall I do if my poor little sister gets smothered?'

"'Pray don't vex yourself,' answered Beppo, 'I'll get her out in an instant;' and with that he forced himself, with great difficulty, into the hole.

"No sooner did the fox see that poor Beppo was fairly in, than he rolled a great stone to the mouth of the hole, and fitted it so tight that Beppo, not being able to turn round and scratch against it with his fore paws, was made a close prisoner, poor fellow.

"'Ha, ha,' cried the wicked fox, laughing, outside; 'amuse yourself with my poor little sister, while I go and call you all sorts of bad names, to your cousin the cat.'

"Of course you know that the poor little sister was not in the hole; it was a mean falsehood of Reynard's, and the bad fellow trotted off, never troubling his head what became of the poor dog.

"When he arrived near the cat's house, he thought he would first pay a visit to a friend of his, an old magpie, that lived in a tree, and knew every thing about every body. 'For,' thought Reynard, 'I may as well know the weak side of Mrs. Fox that is to be, before we are married.'

"'Why, how do you do?' said the magpie, 'what brought you so far from home?'

"'Upon my word,' said the fox, laying his paw on his heart, 'nothing so much as the pleasure of seeing your ladyship, and hearing those agreeable stories which your ladyship tells so delightfully; but, to tell you a great secret – be sure it don't go further.'

"'Oh, certainly not! on the word of a magpie.'

"'Ah! of course, I should have recollected that a magpie never tells secrets,' said the fox, ironically, 'but, as I was saying, you know her majesty the lioness.'

"'Certainly,' said the magpie, with an air of great importance.

"'Well, she was pleased to fall in – that is to say, to – to – take a fancy to your humble servant, and the lion grew so jealous that I had to run like a lamplighter to save my life. A jealous lion is no joke, let me assure your ladyship. But mum's the word.'

"Such a fine piece of news delighted the magpie, who was the greatest tell-tale in the world, so in return she told Reynard all about Bruin and Gauntgrim, and then she began to say all manner of unkind and ill-natured things about the poor young cat. She did not spare a single fault, you may be sure. The fox listened with all the ears he had, and he learned enough to convince him that the cat was rather vain and very fond of flattery.

"When the magpie had finished her ugly speech she said: 'But, my dear Mr. Reynard, you are very unfortunate to be banished from so splendid a court as that of the lion.'

"'Oh! as to that,' answered the fox, 'I feel some consolation, for his majesty made me a handsome present at parting; namely, three hairs from the inside of the ninth leg of the amoronthologosphorus. Only think of that, ma'am.'

Willie laughed at this long word.

"'The what?' cried the magpie, cocking down her left ear.

"'The amoronthologosphorus.'

"'La!' said the magpie, 'and what is that tremendous long word, my dear Mr. Reynard?'

"'The amoronthologosphorus is a beast that lives on the top of the North Pole, fifteen miles from any water, and the same distance from any land; it has nine legs, and on the ninth leg are three hairs, and whoever has those three hairs can be young and beautiful for ever.'"

"Dear me," said Willie, "I wish I could get those three hairs for my dear grandma."

"So do I," answered his mother, "and the magpie wanted them, too, for she exclaimed: 'Bless me, I wish you would let me see them,' and she poked out her claw for the three hairs.

"'Really, ma'am, I would oblige you with pleasure,' said the wicked fellow, who had no hairs, and never heard of the animal with the long name, 'but it is as much as my life is worth to show them to any but the lady I marry. But you'll be sure not to mention it.'

"'A magpie gossip, indeed!' cried the old tell-tale.

"The fox then wished the magpie good-night, and retired to a hole to sleep off the fatigues of the day, as he meant to present himself to the beautiful cat as fine as a Broadway dandy.

"The very next morning (nobody knew how) it was all over the place that Reynard had been banished from the lion's court, who, to console him, had made him a present of three hairs, that would magically convert the one that he married, even if she was a perfect scarecrow, into a young and beautiful lady for ever."

"It was the magpie that told, wasn't it?" asked Willie.

"I suspect it was," answered his mother, "and the cat was the very first to learn the news, and she was perfectly crazy to see so interesting a stranger, with three such wonderful hairs. 'I tell you what!' she said to her maid, 'I'll have those three hairs before I am three days older.'

"Then the cat put on a white satin bonnet with ten ostrich feathers fastened all over it, and a thread-lace veil, her pink satin shoes, and a green parasol, and set out for a walk. Of course, she met the fox the very first thing; and he made her such a low bow that he very nearly cracked his spine. She blushed, and simpered, and thought the fox was the very pink of politeness; and he flattered her until she was quite ready to believe he was, also, the pink of perfection.

"Meanwhile, let us see what became of his rival, poor Beppo."

"Ah, the poor fellow!" cried Willie, "no chance for him – buried alive! just think."

"Wait till the end. When Beppo found that he was in this dismal trap, he gave himself up for lost. In vain he kicked, and scratched, and banged his hind legs against the heavy stone, he only succeeded in bruising his paws; and, at length, he was forced to lie down, so exhausted that his tongue hung a quarter of a yard out of his mouth, and he breathed like a locomotive. 'Dear me!' he said, 'it won't do to be starved here, without trying my best to escape;' and he repeated to himself this fine piece of poetry, the comfort and truth of which he had often, proved: —

 
"'If you find your task is hard,
Try – try again;
Time will bring you your reward;
Try – try again.
All that other dogs can do,
Why, with patience, should not you?
Only keep this rule in view —
Try – try again.'
 

"'Now, let me see – if I can't get out one way, I will try if there is not a hole at the other end.' Thus saying, his courage returned, and he began to push on in the same straightforward way in which he had always conducted himself. At first the path was exceedingly narrow, and he was squeezed almost as flat as a pancake, besides being in mortal fear that his ribs would be broken in pieces like a crockery tea-pot, the stones that projected on either side were so sharp and rough. If he had been a cat, it would not have made so much difference, as they are said to have nine lives. But Beppo persevered, and, at last, was rewarded; for, by degrees, the way became broader, and he went on with great ease and comfort till he arrived at a large cavern, and beheld an immense griffin sitting on his tail and smoking a huge pipe.

"What a fright poor Beppo was in! for the monster had only to open his mouth, to swallow him up, without pepper or salt, as easily as you would an oyster. However, he put a bold face upon the danger, and walking respectfully up to the griffin, he made a very low bow, and said, 'Sir, I should be very much obliged to you, if you would inform me how to find the way out of these holes into the world again?'

"The griffin took the pipe out of his mouth, and looked at Beppo as sharp as a carving-knife.

"'Ho, wretch!' said he, 'how did you come here? I suppose you want to steal my treasure; but I know how to treat such vagabonds as you, and I shall certainly eat you up.'

"'You can do that if you choose,' said Beppo, 'but it would be very unhandsome conduct in an animal forty times bigger than myself. For my own part, I never attack a dog that is not of my own size: I should be very much ashamed of myself if I did. And as to your treasure, I am an honest dog, sir, as is very well known, and would not touch it if it was all composed of marrow-bones.'

"'Upon my word,' said the griffin, who could not help smiling, for the life of him, 'you are very free, and rather saucy; but, I say, how did you come here?'

"Then the good fellow, who did not know what a lie was, (I hope all the boys and girls reading this can say the same,) told the griffin his whole history – how he had set off to see his cousin the cat, and how that scamp of a Reynard had entrapped him into the hole.

"When he had finished, the griffin said to him, 'My friend, I see that you know how to speak the truth. I am very much in want of just such a servant as you will make me; therefore, stay with me, Beppo, and keep watch over my treasure when I sleep.'

"'Hum! two words to that,' said the dog. 'You have hurt my feelings very much by calling me a thief; and, besides, I am perfectly wild with impatience to go back to the wood to thrash that scoundrel the fox. I do not wish to serve you, even if you gave me all your treasures; so I beg you to let me go, and to show me the way to my cousin the cat.'

"'Look here, old fellow,' answered the griffin, 'I am not very fond of making speeches a mile long, and I give you your choice – be my servant, or (in a terrible voice) BE MY BREAKFAST; it is just the same to me. I give you time to decide till I have smoked out my pipe, and that's the short and the long of it.'"

"What a cruel old griffin!" exclaimed Willie; "why didn't he catch an elephant, and eat him instead of the dog? Suppose it had been me, mamma, what would I have done?"

"Just what Beppo did, my dear, for the weak must yield to the strong, in a case where life can be saved without sin. So the dog said to himself, 'Of course, it is a dreadful misfortune to live in a cave with this abominable old griffin; but, perhaps, if I do my duty and serve him faithfully, he will take pity on me, some day, and let me go back to the world and tell my cousin what a good-for-nothing rogue the fox is; and, besides, though I would fight like forty Indians or General Jackson, it is impossible to conquer a griffin, with a mouth of so monstrous a size – it is twice the size of a barn-door.' In short, he decided to stay with the griffin.

"'Shake a paw on it,' said the grim old smoker, and the dog shook paws.

"'And now,' said the griffin, 'I will tell you what you are to do – look here;' and, moving his great fan-like tail, he showed the dog an enormous heap of gold and silver, in a hole in the ground, that he had covered with the folds of his tail; and, also, what the dog thought far more valuable, a great heap of bones, of very delicious smell and appearance.

"'Now, old fellow,' said the griffin, 'in the day-time I can take very good care of these myself; but, at night, I am so tired that I can't keep my eyes open, so when I sleep you must watch over them, as if you had fifty-nine eyes.'

"'Very well,' said the dog, 'I'm the boy for watching! and as to the gold and silver, they will be as safe as a bank; but I would rather you would lock up the bones, for they smell very nice, and, as I am often hungry of a night, I am afraid – '

"'Hold your tongue,' interrupted the griffin, looking as cross as two sticks, and in a voice like a cannon going off.

"'But, sir,' said the dog, after a short silence, 'I am sure nobody ever comes here: who are the thieves, if I may be so bold as to ask?'

"'Well, I will tell you,' answered the griffin. 'In this neighborhood there are a great many serpents, regular anacondas, and, though they haven't a leg to stand on, they are always rearing up, looking over their own shoulders, and trying to steal my treasure; and if they caught me napping, they would sting me to death before you count five; so I have to keep one eye open all night, and I am almost worn into holes.'

"'You don't say so,' said the dog; 'well, I don't envy you your treasure, sir.'

"When the night came, the griffin, who was a very cute fellow, and saw that the dog was so perfectly honest that he was to be entirely trusted, laid down to sleep, and was soon snoring like twenty fat aldermen rolled into one, and Beppo, shaking himself almost out of his skin, so as to be quite awake, took watch over the treasure. His mouth watered till it made quite a pond at his feet, at the delightful bones, and he could not help smelling at them now and then; but the honest fellow said to himself, 'A bargain's a bargain, and since I have promised to serve the griffin, and shaken paws on it, I must serve him as an honest dog ought to serve.'"

"What a good dog!" said Willie; "I like him."

"In the very middle of the night, a great snake came creeping in by the side of the cave, but the dog spied him, and set up such a barking that you would have thought a whole pack of the largest fire-crackers was going off all at once. The griffin woke up with a start, and the snake crept away with all his might and main. Then the griffin was very much pleased, and he gave the dog one of the delicious bones to eat; and every night the dog watched the treasure, and did it so well, that not a single snake would have dared to poke its nose (if it had one) into the cave, and the griffin grew so fat, with the excellent rest he enjoyed, that he could hardly see out of his eyes, and his three double chins shook like a bowl of jelly.