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A Child-World Part 2

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All four-pawed creatures tamable--he knew Their outer and their inner natures too; While they, in turn, were drawn to him as by Some subtle recognition of a tie Of love, as true as truth from end to end, Between themselves and this strange human friend.

The same with birds--he knew them every one, And he could "name them, too, without a gun."

No wonder _Johnty_ loved him, even to The verge of worship.--Noey led him through The art of trapping redbirds--yes, and taught Him how to keep them when he had them caught-- What food they needed, and just where to swing The cage, if he expected them to _sing_.

And _Bud_ loved Noey, for the little pair Of stilts he made him; or the stout old hair Trunk Noey put on wheels, and laid a track Of scantling-railroad for it in the back Part of the barn-lot; or the cross-bow, made Just like a gun, which deadly weapon laid Against his shoulder as he aimed, and--"_Sping!_"

He'd hear the rusty old nail zoon and sing-- And _zip!_ your Mr. Bluejay's wing would drop A farewell-feather from the old tree-top!

And _Maymie_ loved him, for the very small But perfect carriage for her favorite doll-- A _lady's_ carriage--not a _baby_-cab,-- But oilcloth top, and two seats, lined with drab And trimmed with white lace-paper from a case Of shaving-soap his uncle bought some place At auction once.

And _Alex_ loved him yet The best, when Noey brought him, for a pet, A little flying-squirrel, with great eyes-- Big as a child's: And, childlike otherwise, It was at first a timid, tremulous, coy, Retiring little thing that dodged the boy And tried to keep in Noey's pocket;--till, In time, responsive to his patient will, It became wholly docile, and content With its new master, as he came and went,-- The squirrel clinging flatly to his breast, Or sometimes scampering its craziest Around his body spirally, and then Down to his very heels and up again.

And _Little Lizzie_ loved him, as a bee Loves a great ripe red apple--utterly.

For Noey's ruddy morning-face she drew The window-blind, and tapped the window, too; Afar she hailed his coming, as she heard His tuneless whistling--sweet as any bird It seemed to her, the one lame bar or so Of old "Wait for the Wagon"--hoa.r.s.e and low The sound was,--so that, all about the place, Folks joked and said that Noey "whistled ba.s.s"-- The light remark originally made By Cousin Rufus, who knew notes, and played The flute with nimble skill, and taste as wall, And, critical as he was musical, Regarded Noey's constant whistling thus "Phenominally unmelodious."

Likewise when Uncle Mart, who shared the love Of jest with Cousin Rufus hand-in-glove, Said "Noey couldn't whistle '_Bonny Doon_'

Even! and, _he'd_ bet, couldn't carry a tune If it had handles to it!"

--But forgive The deviations here so fugitive, And turn again to Little Lizzie, whose High estimate of Noey we shall choose Above all others.--And to her he was Particularly lovable because He laid the woodland's harvest at her feet.-- He brought her wild strawberries, honey-sweet And dewy-cool, in mats of greenest moss And leaves, all woven over and across With tender, biting "tongue-gra.s.s," and "sheep-sour,"

And twin-leaved beach-mast, prankt with bud and flower Of every gypsy-blossom of the wild, Dark, tangled forest, dear to any child.-- All these in season. Nor could barren, drear, White and stark-featured Winter interfere With Noey's rare resources: Still the same He blithely whistled through the snow and came Beneath the window with a Fairy sled; And Little Lizzie, bundled heels-and-head, He took on such excursions of delight As even "Old Santy" with his reindeer might Have envied her! And, later, when the snow Was softening toward Springtime and the glow Of steady sunshine smote upon it,--then Came the magician Noey yet again-- While all the children were away a day Or two at Grandma's!--and behold when they Got home once more;--there, towering taller than The doorway--stood a mighty, old Snow-Man!

A thing of peerless art--a masterpiece Doubtless unmatched by even cla.s.sic Greece In heyday of Praxiteles.--Alone It loomed in lordly grandeur all its own.

And steadfast, too, for weeks and weeks it stood, The admiration of the neighborhood As well as of the children Noey sought Only to honor in the work he wrought.

The traveler paid it tribute, as he pa.s.sed Along the highway--paused and, turning, cast A lingering, last look--as though to take A vivid print of it, for memory's sake, To lighten all the empty, aching miles Beyond with brighter fancies, hopes and smiles.

The cynic put aside his biting wit And tacitly declared in praise of it; And even the apprentice-poet of the town Rose to impa.s.sioned heights, and then sat down And penned a panegyric scroll of rhyme That made the Snow-Man famous for all time.

And though, as now, the ever warmer sun Of summer had so melted and undone The perishable figure that--alas!-- Not even in dwindled white against the gra.s.s-- Was left its latest and minutest ghost, The children yet--_materially_, almost-- Beheld it--circled 'round it hand-in-hand-- (Or rather 'round the place it used to stand)-- With "Ring-a-round-a-rosy! Bottle full O' posey!" and, with shriek and laugh, would pull From seeming contact with it--just as when It was the _real-est_ of old Snow-Men.

"A NOTED TRAVELER"

Even in such a scene of senseless play The children were surprised one summer-day By a strange man who called across the fence, Inquiring for their father's residence; And, being answered that this was the place, Opened the gate, and with a radiant face, Came in and sat down with them in the shade And waited--till the absent father made His noon appearance, with a warmth and zest That told he had no ordinary guest In this man whose low-spoken name he knew At once, demurring as the stranger drew A stuffy notebook out and turned and set A big fat finger on a page and let The writing thereon testify instead Of further speech. And as the father read All silently, the curious children took Exacting inventory both of book And man:--He wore a long-napped white fur-hat Pulled firmly on his head, and under that Rather long silvery hair, or iron-gray-- For he was not an old man,--anyway, Not beyond sixty. And he wore a pair Of square-framed spectacles--or rather there Were two more than a pair,--the extra two Flared at the corners, at the eyes' side-view, In as redundant vision as the eyes Of gra.s.shoppers or bees or dragonflies.

Later the children heard the father say He was "A Noted Traveler," and would stay Some days with them--In which time host and guest Discussed, alone, in deepest interest, Some vague, mysterious matter that defied The wistful children, loitering outside The spare-room door. There Bud acquired a quite New list of big words--such as "Disunite,"

And "Shibboleth," and "Aristocracy,"

And "Juggernaut," and "Squatter Sovereignty,"

And "Anti-slavery," "Emanc.i.p.ate,"

"Irrepressible conflict," and "The Great Battle of Armageddon"--obviously A pamphlet brought from Washington, D. C., And spread among such friends as might occur Of like views with "The Noted Traveler."

A PROSPECTIVE VISIT

While _any_ day was notable and dear That gave the children Noey, history here Records his advent emphasized indeed With sharp italics, as he came to feed The stock one special morning, fair and bright, When Johnty and Bud met him, with delight Unusual even as their extra dress-- Garbed as for holiday, with much excess Of proud self-consciousness and vain conceit In their new finery.--Far up the street They called to Noey, as he came, that they, As promised, both were going back that day To _his_ house with him!

And by time that each Had one of Noey's hands--ceasing their speech And coyly anxious, in their new attire, To wake the comment of their mute desire,-- Noey seemed rendered voiceless. Quite a while They watched him furtively.--He seemed to smile As though he would conceal it; and they saw Him look away, and his lips purse and draw In curious, twitching spasms, as though he might Be whispering,--while in his eye the white Predominated strangely.--Then the spell Gave way, and his pent speech burst audible: "They wuz two stylish little boys, and they wuz mighty bold ones, Had two new pairs o' britches made out o' their daddy's old ones!"

And at the inspirational outbreak, Both joker and his victims seemed to take An equal share of laughter,--and all through Their morning visit kept recurring to The funny words and jingle of the rhyme That just kept getting funnier all the time.

AT NOEY'S HOUSE

At Noey's house--when they arrived with him-- How snug seemed everything, and neat and trim: The little picket-fence, and little gate-- It's little pulley, and its little weight,-- All glib as clock-work, as it clicked behind Them, on the little red brick pathway, lined With little paint-keg-vases and teapots Of wee moss-blossoms and forgetmenots: And in the windows, either side the door, Were ranged as many little boxes more Of like old-fashioned larkspurs, pinks and moss And fern and phlox; while up and down across Them rioted the morning-glory-vines On taut-set cotton-strings, whose snowy lines Whipt in and out and under the bright green Like basting-threads; and, here and there between, A showy, shiny hollyhock would flare Its pink among the white and purple there.-- And still behind the vines, the children saw A strange, bleached, wistful face that seemed to draw A vague, indefinite sympathy. A face It was of some newcomer to the place.-- In explanation, Noey, briefly, said That it was "Jason," as he turned and led The little fellows 'round the house to show Them his menagerie of pets. And so For quite a time the face of the strange guest Was partially forgotten, as they pressed About the squirrel-cage and rousted both The lazy inmates out, though wholly loath To whirl the wheel for them.--And then with awe They walked 'round Noey's big pet owl, and saw Him film his great, clear, liquid eyes and stare And turn and turn and turn his head 'round there The same way they kept circling--as though he Could turn it one way thus eternally.

Behind the kitchen, then, with special pride Noey stirred up a terrapin inside The rain-barrel where he lived, with three or four Little mud-turtles of a size not more In neat circ.u.mference than the tiny toy Dumb-watches worn by every little boy.

Then, back of the old shop, beneath the tree Of "rusty-coats," as Noey called them, he Next took the boys, to show his favorite new Pet 'c.o.o.n--pulled rather coyly into view Up through a square hole in the bottom of An old inverted tub he bent above, Yanking a little chain, with "Hey! you, sir!

Here's _comp'ny_ come to see you, Bolivur!"

Explanatory, he went on to say, "I named him '_Bolivur_' jes thisaway,-- He looks so _round_ and _ovalish_ and _fat_, 'Peared like no other name 'ud fit but that."

Here Noey's father called and sent him on Some errand. "Wait," he said--"I won't be gone A half a' hour.--Take Bud, and go on in Where Jason is, tel I git back agin."

Whoever _Jason_ was, they found him there Still at the front-room window.--By his chair Leaned a new pair of crutches; and from one Knee down, a leg was bandaged.--"Jason done That-air with one o' these-'ere tools _we_ call A '_shin-hoe_'--but a _foot-adz_ mostly all _Hardware_-store-keepers calls 'em."--(_Noey_ made This explanation later.)

Jason paid But little notice to the boys as they Came in the room:--An idle volume lay Upon his lap--the only book in sight-- And Johnty read the t.i.tle,--"Light, More Light, There's Danger in the Dark,"--though _first_ and best-- In fact, the _whole_ of Jason's interest Seemed centered on a little _dog_--one pet Of Noey's all uncelebrated yet-- Though _Jason_, certainly, avowed his worth, And niched him over all the pets on earth-- As the observant Johnty would relate The _Jason_-episode, and imitate The all-enthusiastic speech and air Of Noey's kinsman and his tribute there:--

"THAT LITTLE DOG"

"That little dog 'ud scratch at that door And go on a-whinin' two hours before He'd ever let up! _There!_--Jane: Let him in.-- (Hah, there, you little rat!) Look at him grin!

Come down off o' that!-- W'y, look at him! (_Drat You! you-rascal-you!_)--bring me that hat!

Look _out!_--He'll snap _you!_--_He_ wouldn't let _You_ take it away from him, now you kin bet!

That little rascal's jist natchurly mean.-- I tell you, I _never_ (_Git out!! _) never seen A _s.p.u.n.kier_ little rip! (_Scratch to git in_, And _now_ yer a-scratchin' to git _out_ agin!

Jane: Let him out!) Now, watch him from here Out through the winder!--You notice one ear Kindo' _in_ side-_out_, like he holds it?--Well, _He's_ got a _tick_ in it--_I_ kin tell!

Yes, and he's cunnin'-- Jist watch him a-runnin', _Sidelin'_--see!--like he ain't '_plum'd true_'

And legs don't 'track' as they'd ort to do:-- Plowin' his nose through the weeds--I jing!

Ain't he jist cuter'n anything!

"W'y, that little dog's got _grown_-people's sense!-- See how he gits out under the fence?-- And watch him a-whettin' his hind-legs 'fore His dead square run of a miled er more-- 'Cause _Noey_'s a-comin', and Trip allus knows When _Noey_'s a-comin'--and off he goes!-- Putts out to meet him and--_There they come now!_ Well-sir! it's raially singalar how That dog kin _tell_,-- But he knows as well When Noey's a-comin' home!--Reckon his _smell_ 'Ud carry two miled?--You needn't to _smile_-- He runs to meet _him_, ever'-once-n-a-while, Two miled and over--when he's slipped away And left him at home here, as he's done to-day-- 'Thout ever knowin' where Noey wuz goin'-- But that little dog allus. .h.i.ts the right way!

Hear him a-whinin' and scratchin' agin?-- (_Little tormentin' fice!_) Jane: Let him in.

"--You say he ain't _there?_-- Well now, I declare!-- Lem _me_ limp out and look! ... I wunder where-- _Heuh_, Trip!--_Heuh_, Trip!--_Heuh_, Trip!... _There_-- _There_ he is!--Little sneak!--What-a'-you-'bout?-- _There_ he is--quiled up as meek as a mouse, His tail turnt up like a teakittle-spout, A-sunnin' hisse'f at the side o' the house!

_Next_ time you scratch, sir, you'll haf to git in, My fine little feller, the best way you kin!

--Noey _he_ learns him sich capers!--And they-- _Both_ of 'em's ornrier every day!-- _Both_ tantalizin' and meaner'n sin-- Allus a--(_Listen there!_)--Jane: Let him in.

"--O! yer so _innocent!_ hangin' yer head!-- (Drat ye! you'd _better_ git under the bed!) --Listen at that!-- He's tackled the cat!-- Hah, there! you little rip! come out o' that!-- Git yer blame little eyes scratched out 'Fore you know what yer talkin' about!-- _Here!_ come away from there!--(Let him alone-- He'll snap _you_, I tell ye, as quick as a bone!) _Hi_, Trip!--_Hey_, here!--What-a'-you-'bout!-- _Oo! ouch!_ 'Ll I'll be blamed!--_Blast ye!_ GIT OUT!

... O, it ain't nothin'--jist _scratched_ me, you see.-- Hadn't no idy he'd try to bite _me_!

_Plague take him!_--Bet he'll not try _that_ agin!-- Hear him yelp.--(_Pore feller!_) Jane: Let him in."

THE LOEHRS AND THE HAMMONDS

"Hey, Bud! O Bud!" rang out a gleeful call,-- "_The Loehrs is come to your house!_" And a small But very much elated little chap, In snowy linen-suit and ta.s.seled cap, Leaped from the back-fence just across the street From Bixlers', and came galloping to meet His equally delighted little pair Of playmates, hurrying out to join him there-- "_The Loehrs is come!--The Loehrs is come!_" his glee Augmented to a pitch of ecstasy Communicated wildly, till the cry "_The Loehrs is come!_" in chorus quavered high And thrilling as some paean of challenge or Soul-stirring chant of armied conqueror.

And who this _avant courier_ of "the Loehrs"?-- This happiest of all boys out-o'-doors-- Who but Will Pierson, with his heart's excess Of summer-warmth and light and breeziness!

"From our front winder I 'uz first to see 'Em all a-drivin' into town!" bragged he-- "An' seen 'em turnin' up the alley where _Your_ folks lives at. An' John an' Jake wuz there Both in the wagon;--yes, an' w.i.l.l.y, too; An' Mary--Yes, an' Edith--with bran-new An' purtiest-trimmed hats 'at ever wuz!-- An' Susan, an' Janey.--An' the _Hammonds-uz_ In their fine buggy 'at they're ridin' roun'

So much, all over an' aroun' the town An' _ever_'wheres,--them _city_-people who's A-visutin' at Loehrs-uz!"

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A Child-World Part 2 summary

You're reading A Child-World. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): James Whitcomb Riley. Already has 649 views.

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