The Islands of Magic Part 2

WHY DOGS SNIFF

_The Story of the Dogs' Dinner Party_

Once upon a time the dogs gave a dinner party. All the dogs were invited and all the dogs accepted the invitation. There were big dogs and little dogs and middle-sized dogs. There were black dogs and white dogs and brown dogs and gray dogs and yellow dogs and spotted dogs.

There were dogs with long tails and dogs with short tails and dogs with no tails at all. There were dogs with little sharp-pointed ears and dogs with big flat drooping ears. There were dogs with long slender noses and dogs with short fat turn-up noses. All these dogs came to the party.

Now the dinner was a most elaborate affair. Everything had been arranged with the utmost care. All the good things to eat were spread out upon the rocks by the sea. A gay sparkling little brook brought water to drink. The sun was shining brightly and a soft gentle little breeze was blowing. Everything seemed absolutely perfect.

But there was a cross fussy old dog who came to the party. She was a yellow dog, they say. Nothing ever suited her. Whenever she went to a party she always found fault with something. Sometimes there was too little to eat and sometimes there was too much. Sometimes the hot things were not hot enough and sometimes the cold things were not cold enough. Sometimes the hot things were so hot they burned her mouth and the cold things so cold that they gave her indigestion. There was always something wrong.

At this party, however, there was not too much to eat and there was not too little to eat. The hot things were all just hot enough and the cold things were all just cold enough. Everything seemed to be exactly as it should be.

"How good everything tastes!" remarked the big black dog between polite mouthfuls.

"Everything is seasoned exactly right," added the black and white spotted dog between mouthfuls which were entirely too large to be polite.

That was an unfortunate remark. The cross fussy yellow dog heard it.

She noticed immediately that the big juicy bone she was eating had not been seasoned with pepper.

"Will somebody please pa.s.s the pepper?" she asked.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Will somebody please pa.s.s the pepper?"]

All the black dogs and white dogs and brown dogs and yellow dogs and gray dogs and spotted dogs fell over each other trying to find the pepper to pa.s.s. There was not a single bit of pepper at that dinner party.

"I can't eat a mouthful until I have some pepper," whined the yellow dog.

"I'll go into the city and get some pepper," said one of the dogs.

n.o.body ever knew which dog it was.

The dog who went into the city to get the pepper never came back.

n.o.body ever knew what became of him.

Whenever two dogs meet they always sniff at each other. If one of them should happen to be the dog who went into the city to get the pepper, he would surely smell of pepper.

LONGSTAFF, PINEPULLER AND ROCKHEAVER

_The Story of Three Friends_

Long ago there lived a blacksmith upon whose strong right arm there swelled great muscles and whose big hairy fist was capable of delivering so heavy a blow that all the men in the village and nearby countryside stood in awe of him. He had a hot temper as well as a strong right arm and his pretty young wife grew so afraid of him that she ran away into the forest, taking her baby son with her. The blacksmith had become crosser and crosser of late because the baby sometimes cried at night and disturbed his rest.

In the deep forest the young wife found nuts and herbs and wild fruits to eat. The baby boy thrived most marvelously. Soon he was big and strong, able to kill wild beasts to add to their food. At last his strength was so great that he could lift big rocks and pull up huge trees.

One day he said to his mother, "Dearest one, I'd like to leave you for a little while. I want to go back to the village where I was born.

The stories you have told me about it keep ringing in my ears. I must see the place for myself. Do you mind, mother dear, if I take this journey?"

His mother had long foreseen that a day would come when he would no longer be content to live alone with her in the deep forest. Her heart ached but she gave her consent to the expedition.

When the lad reached the village he went straight to the shop of the blacksmith. His mother had described it to him so often that he had no difficulty in finding it. He knew at once that the man at the forge was his father. He looked exactly as he had always imagined his father looked.

"Good day," said he. "I'd like you to weld an iron bar for me, a bar as tall as the tallest tree in front of your shop."

The blacksmith glanced at the lad and then at the tree.

"You must have made a mistake in your measurements," he replied. "You don't know what you are talking about."

The boy from the forest smiled quietly and stepped a trifle nearer to the blacksmith.

"You are quite right," he admitted. "Thank you for pointing out to me my mistake. I should have said that I want this iron bar made twice as tall as the tallest tree before your door. I want it to be of good thickness, too. I plan to use it as my staff."

The blacksmith looked the lad over more carefully. In truth he appeared as if he might be able to use the staff after all. The blacksmith hastily agreed to make it at once, and he didn't say a word about arranging the price in advance according to his custom.

"Have my staff ready for me next week," commanded the boy as he bade the blacksmith good-by.

When at last the lad was once more with his mother in the deep forest he told her all that had pa.s.sed. "When I return for my staff I want you to go with me, dear mother," were his words when he had ended his story.

"I!" cried the woman in alarm. "I'd be afraid to go! From your description I am sure the blacksmith is in truth your father, and I fear that his disposition has not improved with the years."

"Don't be afraid, dear heart," said the son. "I'll be there and I'll take care of you. I'll see that he does you no harm."

They started out on their journey, and just a week from the day of the lad's first visit to the blacksmith shop he stood once more in the door. He had left his mother hidden behind the bushes and shrubs.

"Good day," he said to the blacksmith. "Is my staff ready?"

"Yes, indeed. It is entirely completed," replied the blacksmith more politely than he was in the habit of speaking even to the parish priest himself. "I have just sent for two yokes of oxen and enough men to drag it out of my shop."

"That is quite unnecessary," responded the boy. "I'm sorry indeed to hear that you have inconvenienced yourself."

He picked up the staff and tossed it about as jauntily as if it had been a slender cane. The blacksmith stared at him in amazement, his mouth wide open and his eyes bulging out of his head.

"May I ask who you are?" he asked as soon as he could catch his breath.

"My name from this day forth shall be Longstaff," replied the lad.

"And it so happens that I am your own son."

The blacksmith listened in surprise while the boy told the story of the years he and his mother had lived in the deep forest. He embraced his son tenderly.

"You are indeed a son to be proud of!" he cried. "Come and live with me. We shall have a happy life together."

The blacksmith was thinking that a strong young man like this would be a great help around the shop.

Longstaff shook his head. "Thank you, but I cannot tarry here," he said. "I must go away and see the world a bit. My mother, however, is waiting behind the bushes. I fear she will be very lonely while I am away."

When Longstaff's mother came in response to his call her husband embraced her lovingly and kissed her. "I've really missed you about the house while you have been away," he told her.