WbU^ University of California Berkeley ^f\ \R-fc3fi , 'S SLU ; |fe ?^M,"\. lr.T.iil ^SHMH liSiH^^^^^^II^ / \f cold things, and I think I ought ,,to get 'em ' warmed * up before I go ; to bed. " "Very well," said his;p$pa. ," Only ;be; careful,/ and keep your feet" a wake,- Jfe wpiiJdivt.Ue com- fortable if your feet -should go to. sleep just ajbcmt i the time your mamma wanted you to go to bed. I'd have to carry you up stairs, if that should happen, and the doctor says if 1 carry you much longer. I'll have a back like a dromedary." "Oh, that would be lovely!" said Jimmieboy. " I'd just like to see you with two humps on your JlMMJEBOY IN THE LIBRARY. 61 ba'ck -one for me, "and one for my little brother:" - "Dear 'me !" : said a gruff voice at Jimmieboy's sidev--" Dear me ! The idea of a boy of your age, with -two "sets of alphabet picture blocks and a dictionary righ*t in' the house, nit knowing that a dromedary has only one hump! Ridiculous! Next thing, you'lll)e trymg'to say that the one- : eyed catteraugus has two eyes." -Ji-mmieboy leaned over the arm of the chair to see who it could be /that spoke. It wasn't his father, 'that much was certain, because his father hacVbfteii said that it wasn't-possible to do more tlran : three things ; at 'Once,' and lie was now doing that many smoking a cigar, reading a book, aM 1 jylayli^ w-ith : --the locket on the ^end of his watch-chain. " -Who arb' yoii, ahvhow?" said Jimmieboy, as he peefed;'over the arm, and saw nothing but the Dictionary- T " Fni myself- that's - who," was - the answer, and then Jimmieboy was interested to see that it was nothing Jess than the Dictionary itself that had addressed him. -"You ought to be more careful about the way you talk," added the Dic- tionary. "Your diction is airy without being dictionary, if you know what that means, which 62 HALF- HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. you don't, as the Rose remarked to the Cauli- flower, when the Cauliflower said he'd be a finer Rose than the Rose if he smelled as sweet." " I'm very sorry," Jimmieboy replied, meekly, " I forgot that the dromedary only had one hump." "I don't believe you'd know a dromedary from a milk dairy if they both stood before you," re- torted the Dictionary. "Now would you?" "Yes, I think I would," said Jimmieboy. "The milk dairy would have cream in bottles in its windows, and the dromedary wouldn't." "Ah, but you don't know why!" sang the Dic- tionary. "You don't even begin to know why the dromedary wouldn't have cream in bottles in its windows." "No," said Jimmieboy, "I don't. Why wouldn't he?" " Because he has no windows," laughed the Dic- tionary ; " and between you and me, that's one of the respects in which the dromedary is like a base-drum there isn't a solitary window iri either of 'em." " You know a terrible lot, don't you?" said Jim- mieboy, patronizingly. "Terrible isn't the word. I'm simply hideously learned," said the Dictionary. "Why, I've been called a vocabulary, 1 know so many words." J1MMIEBOY IN THE LIBRARY. 63 "I wish you'd tell me all you know," said Jimmieboy, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, and putting his chin on the palms of his two bands. "I'd like to know more than papa does just for once. Do you know enough to cell me anything ne doesn't know?" "Do I?" laughed the Dictionary. " Well, don't I? Rather. Why, I'm telling him things all the time. He came and asked me the other night what raucous meant, and how to spell macrobi- otic." "And did you really know?" asked Jimmieboy, full of admiration for this wonderful creature. "Yes; and a good deal more besides. Why, if he had asked me, I could have told him what a zygomatic zoophagan. is; but he never asked me. Queer, wasn't it?" "Yes," said Jimmieboy. " What is one of those things?" "A zygomatic zoophagan? Why that's a er let me see," said the Dictionary, turning over his leaves. "I like to search myself pretty thoroughly before I commit myself to a defini- tion. A zygomatic zoophagan is a sort of cheeky animal that eats other animals. You are one, though I wouldn't brag about it if I were you. You are an animal, and at times a very cheeky 64 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. animal, and I've seen you eat beef. That's what makes you a zygomatic zoophagan." "Do I bite?" asked Jimmieboy, a little afraid of himself since he had learned what a fearful creature he was. " Only at dinner-time, and unless you are very careless about it and eat too hastily you need not be afraid. Very few zygomatic zoophagans ever bite themselves. In fact, it never happened really -but once that I know of. That was the time the zoophagan got the best of the eight- winged tallahassee. Ever hear about that?" "No, I never did," said Jimmieboy. "How did it happen?" " This way," said the Dictionary, as he stood up and made a bow to Jimmieboy. And then he recited these lines : "THE CALIPEE AND THE ZOOPHAGAN." " The yellow-faced Zoophagan Was strolling near the sea, When from the depths of ocean Sprang forth that dread amp-hib-ian, The mawkish Calipee. "The Tallahassee bird sometimes The Calipee is called. His eyes are round and big as dimes, He has eight Avings, composes rhymes, His head is very bald. JIMMIEBOY IN THE LIBRARY. 65 "Now if there are two creatures in This world who disagree Two creatures full of woe and sin They are the Zo-oph, pale and thin, And that bad Calipee. " Whene'er they meet they're sure to fight, No matter where they are ; Nor do they stop by day or night, Till one is beaten out of sight, Or safety seeks afar. "And, sad to say, the Calipee Is stronger of the two ; And so heM won the victory At all tiir.es from his enemy, The slight and slender Zoo. "But this time it went otherwise, For, so the story goes, As yonder sun set in the skies, The Calipee, to his surprise, Was whacked square on the nose. " Which is the fatal, mortal part Of all the Calipees ; Much more inportant than the heart, For life is certain to depart When Cali cannot sneeze. "The world, surprised, asked 'How was it? How did he do it so? Where did the Zoo get so much wit? How did he learn so well to hit So fatally his foe?' 66 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. ""Twas but his strategy, 1 then cried The friends of little Zoo ; 'As Cali plunged, our hero shied, Ran twenty feet off to one side, And bit himself in two. '"And then, you see, the Calipee Was certainly undone ; The Zo-oph beat him easily, As it must nearly always be When there are two to one.' "Rather a wonderful tale that," continued the Dictionary. "I don't know that I really believe it, though. It's too great a tale for any dog to wag, eh?" "Yes," said Jimmieboy. "I don't think I be- lieve it either. If the zoophagan bit himself in two, I should think he'd have died. I know I would." "No, you wouldn't," said the Dictionary; "be- cause you couldn't. It isn't a question of would and could, but of wouldn't and couldn't. By-the- way, here's a chance for you to learn some- thing. What's the longest letter in the alpha- bet?" "They're all about the same, aren't they?" asked Jimmieboy. "They look so, but they aren't. L is the long- est, An English ell is forty-five inches long. JIMMIEBOY IN THE LIBRARY. 67 68 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. Here's another. What letter does a Chinaman wear on his head ?" "Double eye!" cried Jimmieboy. "That's pretty good," said the Dictionary, with an approving nod; "but you're wrong. He wears a Q. And I'll tell you why a Q is like a Chinaman. Chinamen don't amount to a row of beans, and a Q is nothing but a zero with a pig- tail. Do you know why they put A at the head of the alphabet?" "No." "Because Alphabet begins with an A." "Then why don't they put T at the end of it?" asked Jimmieboy. "They do," said the Dictionary. "I-T it." Jimmieboy laughed to himself. He had no idea there was so much fun in the Dictionary. "Tell me something more," he said. "Let me see. Oh, yes," said the Dictionary, complacently. " How ? s this ? " 'Oh, what is a yak, sir?' the young man said ; 'I really much wish to hear.' 'A queer-looking cad with a bushy head, A buffalo-robe all over him spread, And whiskers upon his ear.' '"And tell me, I pray,' said the boy in drab, Just what's a Thelphusi-an?' 1 A great big crab with nippers that nab JIMMIEBOY IN THE LIBRARY. 69 Whatever the owner desires to grab A crusty crustace-an." "'I'm obliged,' said the boy, with a wide, wide smirk, As he slowly moved away. 'Will you tell me, sir, ere I go to work To toil till the night brings along its murk How high peanuts are to-day?' " And I had to give in, For I couldn't say ; And the boy, with a grin, Moved off on his way/' "That was my own personal experience," said the Dictionary. "The boy was a very mean boy, too. He went about telling people that there were a great many things I didn't know,' which was very true, only lie never said what they were, and his friends thought they were im- portant things, like the meaning of sagacious- ness, and how many jays are there in geranium, and others. If he'd told 'em that it was things like the price of peanuts, and how are the fish biting to-day, and is your mother's seal-skin sack plush or velvet, that I didn't know, they'd not have thought it disgraceful. Oh, it was awfully mean!" "Particularly after you had told him what those other things were," said Jimmieboy. 70 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "Yes ; but I got even with him. He came to me one day to find out what an episode was, and I told him it was a poem in hysterical hexameters, with a refrain repeated every eighteenth line, to be sung to slow music." "And what happened?" asked Jimmieboy. " He told his teacher that, and he was kept in for two months, and made to subtract two ap- ples from one lunch every recess." "Oh, my, how awful!" cried Jimmieboy. "But it served him right. Don't you think so?" said the Dictionary. "Yes, I do," said Jimmieboy. "But tell me. What '11 I tell papa that he doesn't know?" "Tell him that a sasspipedon is a barrel with four sides, and is open at both ends, and is a much better place for cigar ashes than his lap, because they pass through it to the floor, and so do not soil his clothes." "Good!" said Jimmieboy, peering across the room to where his father still sat smoking. " I think I'll tell him now. Say, papa," he cried ? sitting up, "what is a sasspipedon" "I don't know. What?" answered Jimmieboy's father, laying his paper down, and coming over to where the little boy sat. "It's a it's a it's an ash-barrel," said the JIMMIEBOY IN THE LIBRARY. 71 Jittle fellow, trying to remember what the Dic- tionary had said. "Who said so?" asked papa. "The Dictionary," answered Jimmieboy. And when Jimmieboy 's father came to ex- amine the Dictionary on the subject, the disagree- able old book hadn't a thing to say about the sasspipedon, and Jimmieboy went up to bed wondering what on earth it all meant, anyhow. 72 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. VI. JIMMIEBOY'S SNOWMAN. THE snow had been falling fast for well-nigh forty-eight hours and Jimmieboy was al- most crazy with delight. He loved the snow be- cause it was possible to do so much with it. One didn't need to go into a store, for instance, and part with ten cents every time one hap- pened to want a ball, when there was snow on the ground. Then, too. Jimmieboy had a new sled he wanted to try, but best of all, his father had promised to make him a snowman, with shoe-buttons for eyes and a battered old hat on his head, if perchance there could be found any- where in the house a hat of that sort. Fortu- nately a battered old hat was found, and the snowman when finished looked very well in it. I say fortunately because Jimmieboy had fully JIMMIEBOTS SNOWMAN. 73 made up his mind that a battered hat was abso- lutely necessary to make the snowman a suc- cess, and had not the old one been found I very much fear the youth would have taken his father's new one and battered that into the state of usefulness required to complete the icy statue to his satisfaction. After the snowman was finished Jimmieboy romped about him and shouted in great glee for an hour or more, and then, growing a little weary of the sport, he ran up into his nursery to rest for a little while. He had not been there very long however when he became, for some unknown reason, uneasy about the funny look- ing creature he had left ehind him. Running to the window he looked out to see if the snowman was all right, and he was much surprised to discover that he wasn't there at all. He couldn't have melted, that was certain, for the air was colder than it had been when the snowman was put up. No one could have stolen him because he was too big, and so, well, it certainly was a strange conclusion, but none the less the only one, he must have walked off himself. "It's mighty queer!" thought Jimmieboy. "He was there ten minutes ago." Then he ran down stairs and peered out of the ?4 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. window. At the front of the house no snowman was in sight. Then he went to a side window and looked out. Still no snowman. And then the door-bell rang, and Jimmieboy went to the door and opened it, and, dear me ! how he laughed when he saw who it was that had rung the bell, as would also have you, for, honestly, it was no one else than the snowman himself. "What do you want?" asked Jimimeboy. The snowman made a low bow to Jimmieboy, and replied : " I got so weary standing there, I thought I'd ask you for a chair ; "Pis rather cool of me, I know, But coolness in a man of snow Is quite the fashion in these days, And to be stylish always pays." "Won't you come in?" asked Jimmieboy politely. The snowman stared at Jimmieboy with all the power of the shoe-buttons. He was evidently surprised. In a moment or two, however, he recovered and said : "Indeed, I'll enter not that door, I've tried it once or twice before." "What of that?" asked Jimmieboy. "Didn't YOU like it?" JTMMIEBOTS SNOWMAN. ?S "Ob, yes; I liked it well enougb, Although it used me pretty rough ; I lost a nose and foot and ear, Last time I happened to come here." "Do you always speak in rhyme?" asked Jim- mieboy, noticing the snowman's habit for the first time. "Always, except when I speak in prose," said the snowman. "But perhaps you don't like rhyme?" "Yes, I do like rhyme very much," said Jim- mieboy. "Then you like me," saii the snowman, "be- cause I'm mostly rime myself. But say, don't stand there with the door open letting all the heat out into the world. If you want to talk to me come outside where we can be comfortable." "Very well," said Jimmieboy. "I'll come, if you'll wait until I bundle up a little so as to keep warm." "All right, I'll wait," the snowman answered, "only don't you get too warm. I'll take you up to where I live and introduce you to my boys if you like only hurry. If a thaw should set in we might have trouble. " Of all mean things I ever saw The meanest of them is a thaw." 76 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. Jimmieboy, pondering- deeply over his curious experience, quickly donned his overcoat and rub- ber boots, and in less time than it takes to tell it was out of doors again with the snowman. The huge white creature smiled happily as Jim- mieboy came out, and taking him by the hand they went off up the road together. ' I'm glad you weren't offended with me because I wouldn't go in and sit down in your house," said the snowman, after they had walked a little way. "I had a very narrow escape thirty win- ters ago when I was young and didn't know any better than to accept an invitation of that sort. I lived in Russia then, and a small boy very much like you asked me to go into his house with him and see some funny picture-books he had. I said all right, and in I went, never thinking that the house was hot and that I'd be in danger of melting away. The boy got out his picture- books and we sat down before a blazing log fire. Suddenly the boy turned white as I was, and cried out : " 'Hi ! What have you done with your leg?' "'I brought it in with me, didn't I?' I said, looking down to where the leg ought to be, and noticing much to my concern that it was gone. "'I thought so,' said the boy. 'Maybe you JIMMIEBOY 1 S SNOWMAN. 77 left it down on the hat-rack with your hat and cane.' "'Well I wish you'd go and see,' said I, very nervously. 'I don't want to lose that leg if I can help it.' "So oil the boy went," continued the snow- man, "and I waited there before the fire wonder- ing what on earth had become of the missing limb. The boy soon came back and announced that he couldn't find it. " 'Then I must hop around until I do find it.' I put in, starting up. "Would you believe it, Jimmieboy, that the minute I tried to rise and hop off on the search I discovered that my other leg was gone too?" "Dear me!" said Jimmieboy. "How dreadful." "It was fearful," returned the snowman, "but that wasn't half. I raised my hand to my fore- head so as to think better, when off dropped my right arm. and as I readied out with my left to pick it up again that dropped off too. Then as my vest also disappeared, the boy cried out: " 'Why, I know what's the matter. You are melting away!' "He was right. The heat of the log fire was just withering me right up. Fortunately as my neck began to go and my head rolled off the 78 HALF-HOURS WITH J1MMIEBOY. chair onto the floor, the boy had presence of mind enough to pick it up it was all that was left of me and throw it out of the window. If it hadn't been been for that timely act of his I should have met the horrid fate of my cousin the iceberg." "What was that?" asked Jimmieboy. "Oh, he wanted to travel," said the snowman, "so he floated off down to South America and waked up one morning to find himself nothing but a tankful of the Gulf of Mexico. We never saw the poor fellow again." "I understand now why you didn't want to come in," said Jimmieboy, "and I'm glad you didn't do as I asked you, for I don't think mam- ma would have been pleased if you'd melted away in the parlor." "I know she wouldn't," said the snowman. "She's like the woman mentioned in the poem, who hated flies and mu<1dy shoes, As well as pigs and kangaroos ; But most of all she did abhor, A melted snow-drift on the floor." "Do you live near here?" asked Jimmieboy as he trudged along at the snowman's side. "Well," replied the snowman, "I do, and I JIMMIEBOY^ S SNOWMAN. 79 don't. When I do, I do, and when I don't, it's otherwise. This climate doesn't agree with me in the sammer, and so when summer comes I move up to the North Pole. Ever been there?" "No," said Jimmieboy, "what sort of a place is it?" "Fine," returned the snowman. "The ther- mometer is always at least twenty miles below zero, even on the hottest days, and fire can't by any possibility come near us. Only one fire ever tried to and it was frozen stiff before it got within a hundred leagues of us. In winter, how- ever, I come to places like this, and bring my lit- tle boys with me. We hire a convenient snow- drift and live in that. There's mine now right ahead of you." Jimmieboy peered curiously along the road, at the far end of which he could see a huge mound of snow like the one the famous blizzard had piled up in front of his father's house some time before Jimmieboy and the world came to know each other. "Do you live in that?" he asked. "Yes," said the snowman. "And I will say that it's one of the most conveniently arranged snow-drifts I ever lived in. The house part of it is always as cold as ice it's cooled by a 80 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. special kind of refrigerator I had put in, which consumes ahout half a ton of ice a week." Jimmiehoy laughed. "It's a cold furnace, eh?" he said. "Precisely," answered the snowman. "And hesides that the house is deliciously draughty so that we have no difficulty in keeping cold. Once in a while my hoys run in the sun and get warmed through, but I dose 'em up with ice- water and cold cream and they soon get chilled again. But come, shall we go in?" The pedestrians had by this time reached the side of the snow-drift, and Jimmieboy was pleased to see a door at one side of it. This the snowman opened, and they entered together a marvelously beautiful and extensive garden glistening with frosty flowers and snow- clad trees. At the end of the garden was a little white house that looked like the icing on Jimmieboy 's birthday cake. As they approached it, the door of the little house was thrown open and a dozen small-sized snow boys rushed out and began to pelt the snowman and Jimmieboy with tennis balls. "Hold up, boys," cried the snowman. "I've brought a friend home to see you." The boys stopped at once, and Jimmieboy was JIMMIEBOY^S SNOWMAN. 81 introduced to them. For hours they entertained him in the gardens and in the house. They showed him wondrous snow toys, among which were rocking horses, railway trains, soldiers all made of the same soft fleecy substance from which the snowman and his children were constructed. When he had played for a long time with these they gave him caramels and taffy and cream cakes, these also made of snow, though as far as their taste went they were better than those made of sugar and chocolate and cream, or, at least, it seemed so to Jimmieboy at the time. After this bit of luncheon the boys invited him out to coast, and he went along with them to the top of a high hill without any snow upon it, and for hours he and they slid from summit to base in great red-wheeled wagons. It took his breath away the first time he went down, but when he got used to it he found the sport de- lightful. He was glad, however, when a voice from the little white house called to the children to return. "Come in now, boys," it said. "It is getting too warm for you to stay out." The boys were obedient to the word and they all a dozen of them at least trooped back into 82 HALF- HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. the house where Jimmieboy was welcomed by his friend the snowman again. The snowman looked a little anxious, Jimmieboy thought, but he supposed this was because the littlest snow- boy had overheated himself at his play and had come in minus two fingers and an ear. It was not this, however, that bothered him, as Jim- mieboy found out in a few minutes, for the snow- man simply restored the missing fingers and the ear by making a new lot for the little fellow out of a handful of snow he got in the garden. Any- thing so easily replaced was not worth worry- ing over. The real cause of his anxiety came out when the father of this happy little family of snow boys called Jimmieboy to one side. " You must go home right away," he said. " I'm sorry, but we have got to fly just as hard as we can or we are lost." "But " said Jimmieboy. "Don't ask for reasons," returned the snow- man, gathering his little snowboys together and rushing off with them in tow. "I haven't time to give them. Just read that and you'll see. Fare- well." Then he made off down the garden path, and as he fled with his babies Jimmieboy picked up the thing the snowman had told him to read, JIMMIEBOY' S SNOWMAN. 83 and wandered back into the house, holding it in his hand. It was only a newspaper, but at the top of the first column was an announcement in huge letters : WARM WAVE TO-NIGHT. WISE SNOWMEN WILL MOVE NORTH AT ONCE. When Jimmieboy saw this he knew right away why he had been deserted, but to this day he doesn't know how he knew it, because at the time this happened he had not learned how to read. At all events he discovered what the trouble was instantly, and then he decided that as he had been left by all of his new friends he would go home. He walked to the front door and opened it, and what do you suppose it opened into? The garden? Not a bit of it. Into Jimmieboy 's nursery itself, and when the door closed upon him after he had stepped through it into the nursery and Jimmieboy turned to look at it, lo, and behold it wasn't there! Nor was the snowman to be found the next morning. It was quite evident that he had got away from the warm wave that appeared on the 84 HA LF-HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. scene the night before, for there wasn't even a sign of the shoe-button eyes or the battered hat, as there certainly would have been had he melted instead of run away. THE BICYCLOP^EDIA BIRD. 85 VII. THE BICYCLOP^EDIA BIRD. "TDOO!" said something. 13 And Jimmieboy of course was startled. So startled was he that, according to his own statement, he jumped ninety-seven feet, though for my own part I don't believe he really jumped more than thirty-three. He was too sleepy to count straight anyhow. He had been lolling un- der his canvas tent down near the tennis-court all the afternoon, getting lazier and lazier every minute, and finally he had turned over square on his back, put his head on a small cushion his mamma had made for him, closed his eyes, and then came the "Boo!" "I wonder" he said, as lie gazed about him, seeing no sign of any creature that could by any possibility say "Boo!" however. 86 HALF-HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO F. "Of course you do. That's why I've come," in- terrupted a voice from the bushes. " More chil- dren of your age suffer from the wonders than from measles, mumps, or canthaves." "What are canthaves?" asked Jimmieboy. "Canthaves are things you can't have. Don't you ever suffer because you can't have things?" queried the voice. " Oh, yes, indeed !" returned Jimmieboy. " Lots and lots of times." "And didn't you ever have the wonders so badly that you got cross and wouldn't eat any- thing but sweet things for dinner?" the voice asked. "I don't know exactly what you mean by the wonders," replied Jimmieboy. "Why, wonders is a disease that attacks boys who want to know why things are and can't find out," said the voice. "Oh, my, yes I've had that lots of times," laughed Jimmieboy. "Why, only this morning I asked my papa why there weren't any dande- lionesses, and he wouldn't tell me because he said he had to catch a train, and I've been won- dering why ever since." "I thought you'd had it; all boys do get it sooner or later, and it's a thing you can have THE BICYCLOP^EDIA BIRD. 87 any number of times unless you have me around," said the voice. "What are you anyhow?" asked Jimmieboy. "I'm what they call the Bicyclopsedia Bird. I'm a regular owl for wisdom. I know everv- thing just like the Cyclopaedia; and I have two wheels instead of legs, which is why they call me the Bicyclopsedia Bird. I can't let you see me, because these are not my office hours. I can only be seen between ten and two on the thirty- second of March every seventeenth year. You can get a fair idea of what I look like from my photograph, though." As the voice said this, sure enough a photo- graph did actually pop out of the bush, and land at Jimmieboy 's feet. He sprang for- ward eagerly, stooped, and picking it up, gazed earnestly at it. And a singular creature the Bi- cyclopaedia Bird must have been if the photo- graph did him justice. He had the head of an owl, but his body was oblong in shape, just like a book, and, as the voice had said, in place of legs were two wheels precisely like those of a bicycle. The effect was rather pleasing, but so funny that Jimmieboy really wanted to laugh. He did not laugh, however, for fear of hurting the Bird's feelings, which the Bird noticed and appreciated. 88 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "Thank you," he said, simply. "What for?" asked Jimmieboy, looking up from the photograph, and peering into the bush PHOTOGRAPHS 89*5 MI IKY "WAY in the vain hope of catching a glimpse of the Bird itself. "For not laughing," replied the Bird. "If you THE BICYCLOPJEDIA BIRD. 89 had laughed I should have hiked away at once because I am of no value to any one who laughs at my personal appearance. It always makes me forget all I know, and that does me up for a whole year. If I forget all I know, you see, I have to study hard to learn it all over again, and that's a tremendous job, considering how much knowledge there is fco be had in the world. So you see, by being polite and kind enough not to laugh at me, who can't help being funny to look at, and who am not to blame for looking that way, because I am not a self-made Bird, you are really the gainer, for I promise you I'll tell you anything jou want to know." "That's very nice of you," returned Jimmie- boy; "and perhaps, to begin with, you'll tell me something that I ought to want to know, whether I do or not." "That is a very wise idea," said the Bicyclo- paedia Bird, "and I'll try to do it. Let me see; now, do you know why the Pollywog is always amiable?" "No," returned Jimmieboy. "I never even knew that he was, and so couldn't really won- der why." "But you wonder why now, don't you?" asked the voice, anxiously. "For if you don't, I can't tell vou." 90 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEEOY. "I'm just crazy to know," Jimmieboy re- sponded. "Then listen, and I will tell you," said the voice. And then the strange bird recited this poem about THE POLLYWOG. "The Polly wog'd a perfect type Of amiability. He never uses angry speech Wherever he may be. He never calls his brother names, Or tweaks his sister's no.se ; He never pulls the sea-dog's tail, Or treads upon his toes. "He never says an unkind word, And frown he never will. A smile is ever on his lips, E'en when he's feeling ill. And this is why : when Polly wog The first came on the scene, He had a temper like a cat's His eye with it was green. "Now, just about the time when he Began to lose his tail, To change into a croaking frog, He came across a nail A nail so rusty that it looked Just like an angle-worm, Except that it was straight and stiff, And so could never squirm. THE BICYCLOP^DIA BIRD. 91 "And Polly, feeling hungry, to Assuage his appetite, Swam boldly up to that old nail, And gave it such a bite, He nearly broke his upper jaw ; His lower jaw he bent. And then he got so very mad, His temper simply went. "He lost it so completely as He lashed and gnashed around, That tnough this happened years ngo, It has not since been found. And that is why, at all times, in The Polly wog you see, A model of that virtue rare True Amiability." " Now, I dare say," continued the Bird " I dare say you might have asked your father who really knows a great deal, considering he isn't my twin brother sixteen million four hundred arid twenty-three times why the Polly wog is al- ways so good-natured, and he couldn't have an- swered you more than once out of the whole lot, and he'd have been wrong even then." "It must be lovely to know co much," said Jimmieboy. "It is," said the Bird; "that is, it is lovely when you don't have to keep it all to yourself. It's very nice to tell things. That's really the 92 HA LF-HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. best part of secrets, I think. It is such fun tell- ing them. Now, why does the sun rise in the morning" "I don't know. Why?" "For the same reason that you do," returned the sage Bird. "Because it is time to get up." "Well, here's a thing I don't know about," said Jimmieboy. "What is 'to alarm?'" "To frighten to scare to discombobulate," replied the Bird. "Why?" "Well, I don't see why an alarm-clock is called an alarm-clock, because it doesn't ever alarm anybody," said Jimmieboy. "Oh, it doesn't, eh?" cried the Bird. "Well, that's just where you are mistaken. It alarms the people or the animals you dream about when you are asleep, and they make such a noise get- ting away that they wake you up. Why, an alarm-clock saved my life once. I dreamed that I fell asleep on board a steamboat that went so fast hardly anybody could stay on board of her she just regularly slipped out from under their feet, and unless a passenger could run fa.st enough to keep up with her, or was chained fast enough to keep aboard of her, he'd get dropped astern every single time. I dreamed I was aboard of her one day, and that to keep on deck I THE BICYCLOPJEDIA BIRD. 93 chained myself to the smoke-stack, and then dozed off. Just as I was dozing, a Misinforma- tion Bird, who was jealous of me, sneaked up and cut the chain. As he expected, the minute I was cut loose the boat rushed from under me, and the first thing I knew I was struggling in the water. While I was struggling there, I was at- tacked by a Catfish. Cats are death to birds, you know, and I really had given myself up for lost, when ' ting-a~Ung-a-ling-a-Ung' went the alarm-clock in the corner of my cage; the fish turned blue with fear, swished his tail about in his fright, and the splashing of the water waked me up, and there 1 was standing on one wheel on my perch, safe and sound. If that clock hadn't gone off and alarmed that Catfish, I am afraid I should have been forever lost to the world." " I see now ; but I never knew before Avhy it was called an alarm-clock, and I've wondered about it a good deal," said Jimmieboy. "Now, here's another thing I've bothered over many a time: What's the use of weeds?" "Oh, that's easy," said the Bird, with a laugh. "To make lawns look prettier next year than they do this." "I don't see how that is," said Jimmieboy. "Clear as window-glass. This year you. have weeds on your lawn, don't you?" 94 HALF-HO UES WITH JIMMIEBO Y. "Yes," returned Jimmieboy. "And you make them get out, don't you?" said the Bird. "Yes," assented Jimmieboy. " Well, there you are. By getting out they make your lawns prettier. That's one of the simplest things in the world. But here's a thing I should think you'd wonder at. Why do houses have shutters on their windows?" asked the Bird. "I know why," said Jimmieboy. "It's to keep the sun out." " That's nonsense, because the sun is so much larger than any house that was ever built it couldn't get in if it tried," returned the feathered sage. "Then I don't know why. Why?" asked Jim- mieboy. " So as to wake people up by banging about on windy nights, and they are a mighty useful in- vention too," said the Bird. "I knew of a whole family that got blown away once just because they hadn't any shutters to bang about and warn them of their danger. It was out in the West, where they have cyclones, which are things that pick up houses and toss them about just as you would pebbles. A Mr. and Mrs. Podlington had built a house in the middle of a big field for THE EICYCLOPJEDIA BIRD. 95 themselves and their seventeen children. Mr. Podlington was very rich, but awful mean, and when the house was finished, all except the shut- ters, he said he wasn't going to have any shut- ters because they cost too much, and so they hadn't a shutter on the house. One night after they had lived where they were about six months they all went to bed about nine o'clock, and by ten they were sound asleep, every one of them. At eleven o'clock a breeze sprang up. This grew very shortly into a gale. Then it be- came a hurricane, and by two o'clock it was a cyclone. One cyclone wouldn't have hurt much, but at three o'clock two more came along, and the first thing the Podlington family knew their house was blown off its foundations, lifted high up in the air, and at breakfast-time was out of sight, and, what is worse, it has never come down anywhere, and all this happened ten years ago." "But where did it go?" asked Jimmieboy. "Nobody knows. Maybe it landed in the moon. Maybe it's being blown about on the wings of those cyclones yet. I don't believe we'll ever know," answered the Bird. "But you can see just why that all happened. It was Mr. Podling- ton's meanness about the shutters, and nothing 96 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. else. If lie had had shutters on that house, at least one of them would have flopped bangety- hang against the house all night, and the chances are that they would all have been waked up by it before the cyclone came, and in plenty of time to save themselves. In fact, I think very likely they could have fastened the house more secure- ly to the ground, and saved it too, if they had waked up and seen what was going on." 'I'll .never build a house without shutters," said Jimmieboy, as he tried to fancy the con- dition of the Podlingtons whisking about in the air for ten long years nearly five years longer than he himself had lived. If they had landed in the moon it wouldn't have been so bad, but this other possible and even more likely fate of mounting on the wind ever higher and higher and not landing anywhere was simply dreadful to think about. " I wouldn't, especially in the cyclone country," returned the voice in the bush. "But I'll tell you of one thing that would save you if you really did have to build a house without shutters; build it with wings. You've heard of houses with wings, of course?" "Yes, indeed," said Jimmieboy. "Why, our house has three wings. One of 'em was put on it THE BICYCLOP^EDIA BIRD. 97 NJ^VER BUILD A HOIJSK WITUOUT SHUTTERS. 98 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. last summer, so that we could have a bigger kit- chen." "I remember," said the Bird. "I wondered a good deal about that wing until I found out it was for a kitchen, and not to fly with. The house had enough wings to fly with without the new one. In fact, the new one for flying purposes would be as useless as a third wheel to a bi- cycle." "What do you mean by to fly with?" asked Jimmieboy, puzzled at this absurd remark of the Bird. "Exactly what I say. Wings are meant to fly with, aren't they? I hope you knew that!" said the Bird. "So if the Podlingtons' house had had wings it might have got back all right. It could have worked its way slowly out of the cy- clone, and then sort of rested on its wings a little until it was prepared to swoop down on to its old foundations, alighting just where it was be- fore. A trip through the air under such circum- stances would have been rather pleasant, I think much pleasanter than going off into the air forever, without any means of getting back." "But," asked Jimmieboy, "even if Mr. Podling- ton's house had had wings, how could he have made them work?" THE EICYCLOPMDIA BIRD. 99 "Why, how stupid of you!" cried the Bird. "Don't you know that he could have taken hold of the " "Ting-a-ling-a-ling a-ling-a-ling!" rang the alarm-clock up in the cook's room, which had heen set for six o'clock in the afternoon instead of for six in the morning by some odd mistake of Mary Ann's. "The alarm! The alarm!" shrieked the Bird, in terror. And then the invisible creature, if Jimmieboy could judge by the noise in the bush, seemed to make off as fast as he could go, his cries of fear growing fainter and fainter as the wise Bird got farther and farther away, until finally they died away in the distance altogether. Jimmieboy sprang to his feet, looked down the road along which his strange friend had fled, and then walked into the house, wishing that the alarm-clock had held off just a little longer, so that he might have learned how the wings of a house should be managed to make the house fly off into ths air. He really felt as if he would like to try the experiment with his own house. 100 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. VIII. GIANT THE JACK KILLER. JIMMIEBOY was turning over the pages of his fairy book the other night, trying to re- fresh his memory concerning the marvelous do- ings of the fairy-land people by looking at the pictures. His papa was too tired to read to him, and as no one else in the house was willing to undertake the task, the boy was doing his best to entertain himself, and as it happened he got more out of his own efforts than he ever derived from the efforts of others. He had dallied long over the weird experiences of Cinderella, and had just turned over the pages which lead up to the story of Jack the Giant Killer, when something in the picture of the Giant's castle seemed to move. Looking a little more closely at the picture in GIANT THE JACK KILLER. 101 a startled sort of way, Jimmieboy saw that the moving thing was the knob of the castle door, and in a jiffy the door itself opened, and a huge homely creature whom Jimmieboy recognized at once as an ogre stuck his head out. For a mo- ment the little fellow felt disposed to cry for help. Surely if the Giant could open the door in the picture there was no reason why he should not step out of the book entirely and make a speedy meal of Jimmieboy, who, realizing that he^ was entirely unarmed, was inclined to run and hide behind his papa's back. His fast oozing courage was quickly restored, however, by the Giant himself, who winked at him in a genial sort of fashion as much as to say: "Nonsense, boy, I wouldn't eat you, if I could." The wink he fol- lowed up at once with a smile, and then he said : "That you, Jimmieboy?" "Yes, sir," said Jimmieboy, very civilly in- deed. "I'm me. Are you you?" The Giant laughed. "Yes," he replied, "and so, of course, we are ourselves. Are you very busy?" "Not very," said Jimmieboy. "Why?" "I want a little advice from you," the Giant answered. " I think it's about time the tables were turned on that miserable little ruffian Jack. 102 HALF -HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. The idea of a big thing like me being killed every day of his life by a mosquito like Jack is very tiresome, and I want to know if you don't think it would be fair if I should kill him just once for the sake of variety. It won't hurt him. He'll come to life again right away just as we Giants do "Don't you stay dead when Jack kills you?" asked Jimmieboy. "You know the answer to that as well as I do," said the Giant. "You've had this story read to you every day now for three years, haven't you?" "About that," said Jimmieboy. " Well, if we staid dead how do you suppose we'd be on hand to be killed again the next time you had the story read to you?" "I never thought of that," said Jimmieboy. " Never thought of it?" echoed the ogre. " Why, what kind of thoughts do you think, anyhow? It's the only thought for a thinker to think I think, don't you think so?" "Say that again, will you?" said Jimmieboy. "Couldn't possibly," said the ogre. "In fact, I've forgotten it. But what do you think of my scheme? Don't you think it would be wise if I killed Jack just once?" GIA.NT THE JACK KILLER. 103 "Perhaps it would," sail the boy. "That is if it wouldn't hurt him." "Hurt him? Didn't I tell you it wouldn't hurt him?" said the Giant. " I wouldn't hurt that boy for all the world. If I did I'd lose my position. Why, all I am I owe to him. The fairy people let me live in this magnificent castle for nothing. They let me rob them of all their property, and all I have to do in return for this is to be killed by Jack whenever any little boy or girl in your world desires to be amused by a tragedy of that sort. So you see I haven't any hard feelings against him, even if I did call him a miserable little ruffian." "Well, I don't exactly like to have Jack killed," said Jimmieboy. "I've always rather liked him. What do you suppose he would say to it?" " That's just the point. I wouldn't kill him un- less he was willing. That would be a violation of my agreement with him, and when he came to he might sue me for what the lawyers call a breach of contract," said the ogre. "Now, it seemed to me that if you were to go to Jack and tell him that you were getting a little tired of having this story end the way it does all the time, and that you thought it only fair to me 104 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. that I should have a chance to celebrate a vic- tory, say once a week every Saturday night for instance he'd be willing to do it." " Where can I find him" asked Jimmieboy. " I just as lief ask him." "He's in the picture, two pages farther along, sharpening his sword," said the ogre. "Very well, I'll go see him at once," said Jim- mieboy. Then he said good-by to the Giant, and turned over the pages until he came to the pic- tures showing how Jack sharpened his sword on the soles of the shoes of another giant, whom he had bound and strapped to the floor. At first Jimmieboy did not know how to ad- dress him. He had often spoken to the figures in the pictures, but they had never replied to anything he had said. However, he made a be- ginning. "Ahem!" he said. The effect was pleasing, for as he said this Jack stopped sharpening his blade and turned to see who had spoken. "Ah, Jimmieboy!" said the small warrior. "Howdy do. Haven't seen much of you this week. You've been paying more attention to Hop o' My Thumb than to me lately." "Well, I love you just the same," said Jimmie- GIANT THE JACK KILLER. 105 boy. " I've just seen the Giant that lives up in the castle with the dragon on the front stoop." "He's a good fellow/' said Jack. "I'm very fond of him. He never gives me any trouble, and dies just as easy as if he were falling off a log, and out of business hours we're great chums. He's had something on his mind lately, though, that I don't understand. He says being killed every day is getting monotonous." "That's what he said to me," said Jimmieboy. "Well, I hope he doesn't resign his position," said Jack, thoughtfully. "I know it isn't in every way a pleasant one, but he might go far- ther and fare worse. The way I kill him is pain- less, but if he got into that Bean-staik boy's hands he'd be all bruised up. You can't fall a mile without getting hurt, you know, and I like the old fellow too well to have him go over to that Bean-stalk cousin of mine." "He likes you, too," said Jimmieboy, pleased to find that there was so much good feeling be- tween the two creatures. " But he thinks he ought to get a chance to win once in a while. He said if he could arrange it with you to have him kill you once a week Saturday nights, for instance he'd be perfectly contented. "That's reasonable enough," said Jack, nod- 106 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. ding his head approvingly. "Did he say how he would like to do it?" "No, only that he'd kill you tenderly, so that you wouldn't suffer," said Jimmieboy. "Oh, I know that 1 ." said Jack, softly. "He's too tender-hearted to hurt anybody. I'm very much inclined to agree to the proposition, but he must let me choose the manner of the killing. He hasn't had much practice killing people, and if he were to do it by hitting me on the head with a stick of wood I'd be likely to wake up with a headache next day; neither should I like to be smothered because while that doesn't bruise one or break any bones its awfully stuffy, and if there's one thing I like it is fresh air." "Perhaps he might eat you," suggested Jim- mieboy. "He isn't big enough to do that comfortably," said Jack, shaking his head. "He'd have to cut me up and chew me, because his throat isn't large enough for him to swallow me at one gulp. But I'll tell you what you can do. You go back to him, and tell him that I'll agree to his proposi- tion, if he'll have me cooked in a plum-pudding four hundred feet in circumference. I'm very fond of plum-pudding, and while he is eating it from the outside I could be eating it from the in- GIANT THE JACK KILLER. J07 side, and, of course, I shouldn't be burned in the cooking, because in the middle of a pudding of that size the heat never could reach me." "But when he reached you," said Jimmieboy, "you'd have the same trouble you said you'd have if he ate you up. He'd have to cut you to pieces and chew you." "Ah!" said Jack, "don't you see my point? By the time he reached me he would have eaten so much plum-pudding that he wouldn't have room for me. so I'd escape." "But, then, you wouldn't be killed," said Jim- mieboy. "That wouldn't make any difference," said Jack. "We'd stop the story before I escaped and everybody would think I'd been eaten up, and that's all he wants. He just wants to seem to win once. He doesn't really care about killing me dead. Don't you see." "Yes, I think I do," said Jimmieboy, "and I'll go back and tell him what you say." "Thank you," said Jack. "And while you are there give him my love, and tell him I'll be around to kill him as usual after tea." All of which Jimmieboy did and the Giant readily agreeing to the plum-pudding scheme, said good-night to his little visitor, and retired into the castle, closing the door after him. 108 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. Then Jimmieboy went to bed in a great hurry, because he knew how sleep made time seem shorter than it really was, and he was very anx- ious to have Saturday night come around so that he could see how the new ending to the story of Jack the Giant Killer worked. As yet that Saturday night has not turned up, so that I really cannot tell you whether or not the arrangement was a success. JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. 109 IX. JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. THERE was whispering going on somewhere, and Jimmieboy felt that it was his duty to find out where it was, who it was that was doing it, and what it was that was being whispered. It was about an hour after supper on the evening of July 3d when it all happened. A huge box full of fireworks had arrived only a few hours before, and Jimmieboy was somewhat afraid thafc the whisperings might have come from bur- glars who, knowing that there were thirty-five rockets, twenty Roman candles, colored lights by the dozen, and no end of torpedoes and fire- crackers and other things in the house, had come to steal them, and, if he could help himself, Jimmieboy was not going to allow that. So he began to search about, and in a few minutes he 110 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. had located the whisperers in the very room at the foot of the back stairs in which the fireworks were. His little heart almost stopped beating for a moment when he realized this. It isn't pleas- ant to feel that perhaps you will be deprived, after all, of something you have looked forward to for a whole month, and upon the very eve of the fulfillment of your dearest hopes at that. "I'll have to tell papa about this," he said; and then, realizing that his papa was not at home, and that his mamma was up stairs trying to convince his small brother that it would be impossible to get the moon into the nursery, al- though it looked much smaller even than the nursery window, Jimmieboy resolved that he would take the matter in hand himself. "A boygler wouldn't hurt me, and maybe if I talk gruff and keep out of sight, he'll think I'm papa and run," he said. Then he tried his gruff voice, and it really was tremendously gruff about as gruff as the bark of a fox-terrier. After he had done this, he tip- toed softly down the stairs until he stood directly opposite the door of the room where the fire- works were. "Move on, you boygler you!" he cried, just as he thought his father would have said it. JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. Ill The answer was an explosion not exactly of fireworks, but of mirth. " He thinks somebody's trying to steal us," said a funny little voice, the like of which Jimmie- boy had never heard before. "How siss-siss-sissingular of him," said another voice that sounded like a fire-cracker missing fire. THE GIANT CRACKER SINGING HIS SONG. "He thinks he can fool us by imitating the voice of his pop-pop-pop-popper," put in a third voice, witli a laugh. At which Jimmieboy opened the door and looked in, and then he saw whence the whisper- ing had come, and to say that he was surprised at what he saw is a too mild way of putting it. 112 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. He was so astonished that he lost all control over his joints, and the first thing he knew he was sit- ting on the floor. The spectacle had, in fact, knocked him over, as well it might, for there, walking up and down the floor, swarming over chairs and tables, playing pranks with each other, and acting in a generally strange fashion, were the fire-works themselves. It was interest- ing, and at the same time alarming, for one or two reckless sk) -rockets were smoking, a lot of foolish little fire-crackers were playing with matches in one corner, and a number of the great big cannon torpedoes wei\e balancing them- selves on the arms. of the gas-fixture, utterly heedless of the fact that if they were to fall to the floor they would explode and be done for forever. "Hullo, Jimmieboy!" said one of the larger rockets, taking off his funny little cap at the as- tonished youngster. "I suppose you've come down to see us rehearse?" "I thought somebody was stealing you, and I came down to frighten them away," Jimmieboy replied. The Rocket laughed. "Nobody can steal us," it said. "If anybody came to steal us, we'd cry ? and get so soaked with tears nobody could get us to go off, so what good would we be?" JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. 113 "Not much, I guess," said Jimmieboy. "That's the answer," returned the .Rocket. "You seem to be good at riddles. Let me give you another. What's the difference between a man who steals a whole wig and a fire-cracker?" "I am sure I don't know," said Jimmieboy, still too full of wonderment to think out an answer to a riddle like that. "Why, one goes off with a whole head of hair," said the Rocket, "and the other goes off only with a bang." "That's good," said Jimmieboy. "Make it up yourself?" "No," said the Rocket. "I got that out of the magazine." "What magazine?" asked Jimmieboy, inno- cently. "The powder-magazine," roared the Rocket, and then the Pin Wheel and other fire-works danced about, and threw themselves on the floor with laughter all except the Torpedoes, which jumped up and down on a soft plush chair, where they were safe. When the laughter over the Rocket's wit had subsided, one of the Roman Candles called to the Giant Cracker, and asked him to sing r, song for Jimmieboy. 114 HALF-HOURS WITH J1MMIEBOY. "I can't sing to-night," said the Cracker. "I'm very busy making ready my report for to- morrow." Here the Cracker winked at Jimmieboy, as much as to say, "How is that for a joke?" Whereat Jimmieboy winked back to show that he thought it wasn't bad; which so pleased the Cracker that he said he guessed, after all, he would sing his song if the little Crackers would stop playing until he got through. The little Crackers promised, and the Giant Cracker sang this song: "THE GIANT CRACKER AND THE MANDARIN'S DAUGHTER. " He was a Giant Cracker bold, His name was Wing-Hi-Ee. He wore a dress of red and gold Was handsome as could be. His master was a Mandarin, Who lived in old Shang-Hai, And had a daughter named Ah Din, With sweet blue almond eye. " Now Wing he loved this Saffron Queen, And Ah Din she loved him ; But Chinese law came in between Them with its measures grim. For you must know, in that far land, Where dwell the heathen wild, A Cracker may not win the hand Of any noble's child. JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. 115 "This made their love a hopeless one Alas ! that it should be That anywhere beneath the sun Exists such misery ! So they resolved, since she could not Become his cherished bride, Together they'd seek out some spot And there they'd suicide. "They hastened, weeping, from the town, Wing-Hi and fair Ah Din, And on the river-bank sat down Until the tide came in. Then Wing-Hi whispered, sitting there, With tear-drops in his eye, 'Good-by, Ah Din !' And, in despair, She answeied him, 'Good-by.' "And then she grasped a sulphur match ; She lit it on her shoe, Whereat, with neatness and dispatch, Wing-Hi she touched it to. There came a flash, there came a shriek, A sound surpassing weird, And Wing-Hi brave and Ah Din meek In pieces disappeared." "Isn't that lovely?" asked the Rocket, his voice husky with emotion. "It's very fine," said Jimmieboy. "It's rather sad, though." "Yes; but it might have been sadder, you know," said the Giant Cracker, "She might not 116 HALF-HOURS WITH J1MMIEBOY. have loved him at all ; and if she hadn't loved him, he wouldn't have wasted a match commit- ting suicide for her sake, and then there wouldn't have been any tragedy, and, of course, no song would have been written about it. Why, there is no end to the misery there might have been." Here one of the Torpedoes fell off the gas-fix- ture to the floor, where he exploded with a loud noise. There was a rush from all sides to see whether the poor little fellow was done for for- ever. "Send for the doctor," said the Pin Wheel. "I think he can be mended. " "No, don't," said the injured Torpedo. "I can fix myself up again. Send for a whisk broom and bring me a parlor match, and I'll be all right.'' "What's the whisk broom for?" asked Jimmie- boy, somewhat surprised at the remedies sug- gested. " Why," said the Torpedo, "if you will sweep me together with the whisk broom and wrap me up carefully, I'll eat the head off the parlor match, and I'll be all rig-ht again. The match head will give me all the snap I need, and if you'll wrap me up in the proper way. I'll show you what noise is to-morrow. You'll think I'm JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. 117 some relation to that Miss Din in the Giant Cracker's song, unless I'm mistaken, when you hear me explode. The Fire-crackers jeered a little at this, be- cause there has always been more or less jealousy between the Torpedoes and the Fire-crackers, but the Rocket soon put a stop to their sneers. "What's the use of jeering?" he said. "You don't know whether he'll make much noise or not. The chances are hell make more noise than a great many of you Crackers, who are just as likely as not to turn out sissers in the long-run." The Fire crackers were very much abashed by the Rocket's rebuke, and retired shamefacedly into their various packs, whereupon the Pin Wheel suggested that the Rocket recite his poem telling the singular story of Nate and the Rocket. "Would you like to hear that story, Jimmie- boy?" asked the Rocket. "Very much," said Jimmieboy. "The name of it sounds Interesting." "Well, I'll try to tell it. It's pretty long, and your ears are short ; but we can try it, as the boy observed to the man who said he didn't think the boy's mouth was large enough to hold four pieces of strawberry short-cake. So here goes. The real title of the poem is 118 HALP-tiO URS WITH JIMMIEBO F. "THE DREADFUL FATE OF NAUGHTY NATE. "'Way back in eighty-two or three I don't recall the date- There lived somewhere 'twixt you and me, I really can't locate The place exact ; say Sangaree A lad ; we'll call him Nate. "His father was a grocer, or A banker, or maybe He kept a thriving candy store, For all that's known to me. Perhaps he was the Governor Of Maine or Floridee. " At any rate, he had a dad Or so the story's told ; Most youngsters that I've known have had And Nate's had stacks of gold, And those who knew him used to add, He spent it free and bold. "If Nate should ask his father for A dollar or a cent, His father 'd always give him more Than for to get he went ; And then, before the day was o'er, Nate always had it spent. "Molasses taffy, circus, cake, Tarts, soda- water, pie, Hot butter-scotch, or rare beefsteak, Or silk hats, Nate could buy. His father'd never at him shake His head and ask him 'Why ?' JIMM1EBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. lid "'For but. one tiling,' his father cried, 'You must not spend your store; Sky-rockets I cannot abide, So buy them never more. Let such, I pray, be never spied Inside of my front door.' "But Nate, alas ! did not obey His father's orders wise. He hied him forth without delay, Ignoring tarts and pics, And bought a rocket huge, size A, 'The Monarch of the Skies.' "He clasped it tightly to his breast, And smiled a smile of glee ; And as the sun sank in the west, He sat beneath a tree, And then the rocket he invest- I-g-a-t-e-d. " Alas for Nate ! The night was warm ; June-bugs and great fire-flies Around about his head did swarm ; The mercury did rise ; And then a fine electric storm Played havoc in the skies. "Now if, perchance, it was a fly, I'm not prepared to say ; Or if 'twas lightning from the sky, That came along that way ; Or if 'twas only brought on by The heat of that warm day, 120 HALF-HOURS WITH J1MMIEBOY. "I am not certain, but 'tis clear There came a sudden boom, And high up in the atmosphere, Enlightening the gloom, The rocket flew, a fiery spear, And Nate, too, I presume. NATE AS A COMET. " For never since that July day Has any man seen Nate. But far off in the Milky Way, Astronomers do state, A comet brilliant, so they say, Doth round about gyrate. JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. 121 "It's head's so like small Natty's face, They think it's surely he, Aboard that rocket-stick in space, Still mounting constantly ; And still must mount until no trace Of it at all we see." "Isn't that the most fearfully awfully terribly horribly horribly terribly fearful bit of awful- ness you ever heard?" queried the Rocket, when he had finished. "It is indeed," said Jimmieboy. "It really makes me feel unhappy, and I wish you hadn't told it to me." " I would not bother about it," said the Rocket ; " because really the best thing about it is that it never happened." "Suppose it did happen," said Jimmieboy, after thinking it over for a minute or two. "Would Nate ever get back home again?" "Oh, he might/' returned the Rocket. "But not before six or seven million years, and that would make him late for tea, you know. By-the- way," the Rocket added, "do you know the best kind of tea to have on Fourth of July?" "No," said Jimmieboy. "What?" "R-o-c-k-e-tea," said the Rocket. The Pin Wheels laughed so heartily at this 122 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. that one of them fell over on a box of Blue Lights and set them off, and the Rocket endeavoring to put them out was set going himself, and the first thing Jimmieboy knew, his friend gave a fearful siss, and disappeared up the chimney. The sparks from the Rocket falling on the Roman Candles started them along, and three or four balls from them landed on a flower piece which was soon putting forth the most beautiful fiery roses imaginable, one of which, as it gave its dy- ing sputter, flew up and landed on the fuse of a great set piece that was supposed to have a motto on it. Jimmieboy was almost too frightened to move, so he just sat where he was, and stared at the set piece until he could read the motto, which was, strange to say, no motto at all, but simply these words in red, white, and blue fire, "Wake up, and go to bed right." Whereupon Jimmieboy rubbed his eyes, and opened them wider than ever to find his papa bending over him, and saying the very words he had seen on the set piece. Probably the reason why his papa was saying this was that Jimmieboy had been found by him on his return home lying fast asleep, snuggled up in the corner of the library lounge. As for the fire-works, in some way or other JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS. 123 they all managed to get back into the box again in good condition, except the broken torpedo, which was found in the middle of the floor just where it had fallen. Which Jimmieboy thinks was very singular. 124 HALF- HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. X. JIMMIEBOY'S PHOTOGRAPH. JIMMIEBOY had been taken to the photog- rapher's and had posed several times for the man who made pictures of little boys. One picture showed how he looked leaning against a picket fence with a tiger skin rug under his feet. Another showed him in the act of putting his hands into his pockets, while a third was a miserable attempt to show how he looked when he couldn't stand still. The last pleased Jimmie- boy very much. It made him laugh and Jim- mieboy liked laughing better than anything, perhaps, excepting custard, which was his idea of real solid bliss. Why it made him laugh, I do not know, unless it was because in the picture he was very much blurred and looked something like a mixture of a cloud and a pin-wheel. JIMMIEBOTS PHOTOGRAPH. 125 "I like that one," Jimmieboy said to his mother, when the proof came home. "Won't you let me have it?" "Yes," said his mother. " You can have it. I don't think any one else wants it." So the proof became Jimmieboy's property, and he put it away in his collection of treasures, which already contained many valuable things, such as the whistle of a rubber ball, a piece of elastic, and a worn-out tennis racket. These treasures the boy used to have out two or three times a day, and the last time he had them out something queer happened. The blurred little figure in the picture spoke to him and told him something he didn't forget in a hurry. "You think I'm a funny-looking thing don't you?" said the blurred picture of himself. "Yes, I do," said Jimmieboy, "that's why I laugh at you whenever I see you." "Well, I laugh when I see vou, too," retorted the picture. "You are just as funny to look at sometimes as I am." "I'm not either," said Jimmieboy. "I don't look like a cloud or a pin-wheel, and you do." " I'm a picture of you, just the same," returned the proof, "and if you had stood still when the man was taking you, I'd have been all right. It's 126 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. awful mean the way little boys have of not stand- ing still when they are having their pictures taken, and then laughing at the thing they're responsible for afterward." "I didn't mean to be mean," said Jimmieboy. "Perhaps not," retorted the picture, "but if it hadn't been for you I'd have been a lovely pic- ture, and your mamma would have had a nice little silver frame put around me, and maybe I'd have been standing on your papa's desk with the inkstand and the mucilage instead of having to live all my life with a broken whistle and a tennis bat that nobody but you has any use for." Here the picture sighed, and Jimmieboy- felt very sorry for it. "Boys don't know what a terrible lot of horrid things happen because they don't stand still sometimes," continued the picture. "I know of lots of cases where untold misery has come from movey boys." "From what?" queried Jimmieboy. "Movey boys," replied the picture. "By that I mean boys that don't stand still when they ought to. Why, I knew of a boy once who wouldn't stand still and he shook a whole town to pieces." " Ho !" jeered Jimmieboy. " I don't believe it," JIMMIEBOY S PHOTOGRAPH. 127 "Well, it's so, whether you believe it or not." said the picture. "The boy's name was Bob, and he lived somewhere, I don't remember where. His mother told him to stand still and he wouldn't; he just jumped up and down, and up and down all the time." "That may be, but I don't see how he could shake a whole town to pieces," said Jimmieboy, "unless he was a very heavy boy." "He didn't weigh a bit more than you do," answered the picture. "He was heavy enough when he jumped to shake his nursery though, and the nursery was heavy enough to shake the house, and the house was heavy enough to shake the lot, and the lot was heavy enough to shake the street, and the street shook the whole town, and when the town shook, everybody thought there was an earthquake, and they all moved away, and took the name of the town with them, which is why I don't know where it was." Jimmieboy \vas silent. He never knew before that not standing* still could result in such an awful happening. "I know another boy, too, who lived in well, I won't say where, but he lived there. He broke a fine big mirror in his father's parlor by not standing still when he was told to." 128 HALF- HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. "Did he shake it down?" asked Jimmieboy. "No, indeed, he didn't," returned the picture. "He just stood in front of it and got so movey that the mirror couldn't keep up with him, but it tried to do it so hard that it shook itself to pieces. But that wasn't anything like as bad as what happened to Jumping Sam. He was the worst I ever knew. He never would keep still, and it all happened and he never could unhap- pen it, so that it's still so to this very day." "But you haven't told me what happened yet," said Jimmieboy, very much interested in Jump- ing Sam. "Well, I will tell you," said the picture, grave- ly. " And this is it. The story is a poem, Jim- mieboy, and it's called : "THE HORRID FATE OF JUMPING SAM. " Small Sammy was as fine a lad As ever you did see ; But one bad habit Sammy had, A Jumper bold was he. And, oh ! his fate was very sad, As it was told to me. " He never, never, would stand still In school or on the street ; He'd squirm if he were well or ill, If on his back or feet. He'd wriggle on the window-sill, He'd waggle in his seat. JIMMIEBOTS PHOTOGRAPH. 129 "And so it happened one fine day, When all alone was he, He got to jumping in a way That was a sight to see. He leaped two feet at first, they say, And then he made it three. "Then four, and five, the long day through, Until he could not stop. Each jump he jumped much longer grew, Until he gave a hop Up in the air a mile or two, A-twirling like a top. " He turned about and tried to jump Back to his father's door, But landed by the village pump, Some twenty miles or more Beyond it, and an awful bump He'd got when it was o'er. " And still his jumps increased in size, Until they got so great, He landed on the railway ties In some far distant state ; And then he knew 'twould have been wise, His jumping to abate. " But as the years passed slowly by, His jumping still went on, Until he leaped from Italy, As far as Washington. And he confessed, with heavy eye, It wasn't any fun. 130 . HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "And when, in 1883, I met him up in Perth, He wept and said 'good-by' to me, And jumped around the earth. And I was saddened much to see That he knew naught of mirth. "Last year in far Allahabad, Late in the month of June, I met again this jumping lad Twas in the afternoon As he with visage pale and sad Was jumping to the moon. "So all his days, leap after leap, He takes from morn to night. He cannot eat, he cannot sleep, But flies just like a kite, And all because he would not keep From jumping when he might. "And I believe the moral's true- Though shown with little skill That whatsoever you may do, Be it of good or ill, Once in a while it may pay you To practice keeping still." A long silence followed the completion of the blurred picture's poem. For some reason or other it had made Jimmieboy think, and while he was thinking, wonderful to say, he was keeping very quiet, so that it was quite evident that the fate of Jumping Sam had had some effect upon JIMMIEBOY'S PHOTOGRAPH. 131 him. Finally, however, the spell was broken, and he began to wiggle just as he wiggled while his picture was being taken, and then he said : "I don't know whether to believe that story or not, I can't see your face very plainly here. Come over into the light and tell me the poem all over agaiti, and I can tell by looking in your eye whether it is true or not." The picture made no reply, and Jimmieboy, grasping it firmly in his hand, went to the win- dow and gazed steadily at it for a minute, bnt it was useless. The picture not only refused to speak, but, as the rays of the setting sun fell fall upon it, faded slowly from sight. Nevertheless, true story or not, Jimrnieboy has practiced standing still very often since the affair happened, which is a good thing for little boys to do, so that perhaps the brief life and long poem of the rejected picture were not wasted after all. 132 HALF-HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. XL JIMMIEBOY AND 1HE BLANK-BOOK. QOMEBODY had sighed deeply, and had said, O" Oh dear!" What bothered Jimmiehoy was to find out who that somebody was. It couldn't have been mamma, because she had gone out that evening with papa to take dinner at Uncle Periwinkle's, and for the same reason, therefore, it could not have been papa that had sighed and said " Oh dear!" so plainly. Neither was it Moggie, as Jim- mieboy called his nurse, companion, and friend, because Moggie, supposing him to be astep, had gone up stairs to her own room to read. It might have been little Russ if it had only been a sigh that had come to Jimmieboy's ears, for little Russ was quite old enough to sigh; but as for adding "Oh dear! "that was quite out of the JIMMIEBOY AND THE BLANK-BOOK. 133 question, because all little Russ had ever been able to say was "Bzoo," and, as you may have observed for yourself, people who can only say "Bzoo" cannot say "Oh dear!" It was so mysterious altogether that Jimmie- "OH! DEAR!" boy sat up straight on his pillow, and began to wonder if it wouldn't be well for him to get frightened and cry. The question was decided in favor of a shriek of terror ; but the shriek did not come, because just as Jimrnieboy got his 134 HALF- HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. mouth open to utter it the strange somebody sighed again, and said : "Aren't you sorry for me, Jimmieboy?" "Who are you?" asked Jimmieboy, peering through the darkness, trying to see who it was that had a.ddressed him. "I'm a poor unhappy Blank-book," came the answer. "A Blank-book with no hope now of "EVERYBODY LAUGHED BUT ME." ever becoming great. Did you ever feel as if you wanted to become great, Jimmieboy?" "Oh, yes, indeed," returned the boy. "I do yet. I'm going to be a fireman when I grow up, and drive an engine, and hold a hose, and put out great configurations, as papa calls ? em." "Then you know," returned the Blank-book, " or rather you can imagine, my awful sorrow JIMMIEBOY AND THE BLANK-BOOK. 135 when I say that I have aspired to equally lofty honors, but find myself now condemned to do things I don't like, to devote rny life not to great and noble deeds, but to miserable every-day af- fairs. You can easily see how I must feel if you will only try to imagine your own feelings if, after a life whose every thought and effort had been directed toward making you the proud driver of a fire-engine, you should find it neces- sary to settle clown to the humdrum life of a law- yer, all your hopes destroyed, and the goal toward which you had ever striven placed far beyond your reach." "You didn't want to be a fireman, did you?" asked Jimmieboy, softly. "No," said the Blank-book, jumping off the table, and crossing over to Jimmieboy 's crib, into which he climbed, much to the little fel- low's delight. "No, I never wanted to be a fire- man, or a policeman, or a car conductor, be- cause I have always known that those were things I never could become. No matter how wise and great a Blank-book may be, there is a limit to his wisdom and his greatness. It some- times makes us unhappy to realize this, but after all there is plenty in the world that a Blank-book can do, and do nobly, without env>- 136 HALF-HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. ing others who have to do far nobler and greater things before they can be considered famous. Everything we have to do in this world is worth doing well, and everybody should be content to do the things that are given to his kind to ac- complish. The poker should always try to poke as well as he can, and not envy the garden hose because the garden hose can sprinkle flowers, while he can't. The rake should be content to do the best possible rake's work, and not sigh because he cannot sing 'Annie Rooney' the way the hand-organ does." "Then why do you sigh because of the work they have given you to do?" "That's very simple," returned the Blank-book. " I can explain that in a minute. While I have no right to envy a glue-pot because it can hold glue and I can't, I have a right to feel hurt and envious when it falls to the lot of another Blank- book, no better than myself, to become the medium through which beautiful poems and lovely thoughts are given to the world, while I am compelled to do work of the meanest kind. "It has always been my dream to become the companion of a poet, of a philosopher, or of a humorist to be the Blank-book of his heart to He quiet in his pocket until he had thought a JIMMIEBOY AND THE BLANK-BOOK. 137 thought, and then to be pulled out of that pocket and to be made the receptacle of that thought. "Oh, I have dreamed ambitious dreams, Jim- mi eboy ambitious dreams that must now re- main only dreams, and never be real. Once, as I lay with a thousand others just like me on the shelf of the little stationery shop where your mother bought me. I dreamed I was sold to a poet a true poet. Everywhere he went, went I, and every beautiful line he thought of was promptly put down upon one of my leaves with a dainty gold pencil, contact with which was enough to thrill me through and through. " Here is one of the things I dreamed he wrote upon my leaves : "What's the use of tears? What's the use of moping? What's the use of fears? Here's to hoping ! '"Life hath more of joy Than she hath of weeping. When grief comes, my boy, Pleasure's sleeping. "'Only sleeping, child ; Thou art not forsaken, Let thy smiles run wild She '11 a waken !' 138 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "Don't you think that's nice?" queried the Blank-book when he had finished reciting the poem. "Very nice," said Jimmieboy. "And it's very true, too. Tears aren't any good. Why, they don't even wash your face." "I know," returned the Blank-book. "Tears are just like rain clouds. A sunny smile can drive 'em away like autumn leaves before a whirl- wind." "Or a clothes-line full of clothes before an east wind," suggested Jimmieboy. "Yes; or like buckwheat cakes before a hun- gry school-boy," put in the Blank-book. "Then that same poet in my dream wrote a verse about his little boy I rather liked. It went this Avay: "'Of rats and snails and puppy-dogs' tails Some man has said boys are made ; But he who spoke to be truthful fails, If 'twas of my boy 'twas said. "'For honey, and wine, and sweet sunshine, And fruits from over the swim, And everything else that's fair and fine, Are sure to be found in him. '"His kisses are nice and sweet as spice, His smile is richer than cake Which, if it were known to rats and mice, The cheeses they would forsake. JIMMIEBOY AND THE BLANK-BOOK. 139 '" His dear little voice is soft and choice, He giggles all day with glee, And it makes my heart and soul rejoice, To think he belongs to me.' " "That's first rate." said Jimmieboy. "Only Mother Goose has something very much like it about little girls." "That was just it," returned the Blank-book "She had been a little girl herself, and she was too proud to live. If she had been a boy instead of a girl, it would have been the boy who was made of sugar and spice and all that's nice." "Didn't your dream-poet ever write anything funny in you?" asked Jimmieboy. "I do love funny poems." "Well, I don't know whether some of the things he wrote were funny or not," returned tlie Blank-book, scratching his cover with a pen- cil he carried in a little loop at his side. "But they were queer. There was one about a small boy, named Nappies, who spent all his time eat- ing apples, till by some odd mistake he con- tracted an ache, and now with J. Ginger he grapples. " "That's the kind," said Jimmieboy. "I think to some people who never ate a green apple, or tasted Jamaica ginger, or contracted an ache, 140 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. it would be real funny. I don't laugh at it, be- cause I know how solemn Tommy Nappies must have felt. Did you ever have any more like that?" "Oh my, yes," returned the Blank-book. "Bar- rels full. This was another one only I don't be- lieve what it says is true: '"A man living near Navesink, Eats nothing but thistles and zinc, With mustard and glue, And pollywog stew, Washed down with the best of blue ink.' " "That's pretty funny," said Jimmieboy. "Is it?" queried the Blank-book, with a sigh. "I'll have to take your word for it. I can't laugh, because I have nothing to say ha! ha! with, and even if I could say ha! ha! I don't suppose I'd know when to laugh, because I don't know a joke when I see one." "Really?" asked Jimmieboy, who had never supposed any one could be born so blind that he could not at least see a joke. "Really," sighed the Blank-took. "Why, a man came into the store where I was for sale once, and said he wanted a Blank-book, and the clerk asked him what for meaning, of course, did he want an account-bock, a diary, or a copy- JIMMIEBOY AND THE BLANK-BOOK. 141 book. The man answered, ; To wash windows with, of course.' and everybody laughed but me. I simply couldn't see the point. Can you?" "Why, certainly," said Jimmieboy, a broad smile coming over his lips. "It was very funny. The point was that people don't wash windows with Blank-books." "What's funny about that?" asked the Blank- book. "It would be a great deal funnier if people did wash windows with a Blank-book. He might have said *to go coasting on,' or 'to sweeten my coffee with,' or 'to send out to the heathen,' and it would have been just as funny.' "I guess that's true," said Jimmieboy. "But it was funny just the same." "No doubt," returned the Blank-book; "but it seems to me what's funny depends on the other fellow. You might get off a splendid joke, and if he hadn't his joke spectacles on he'd think it was nonsense." "Oh no," said Jimmieboy. "If he hadn't his joke spectacles on lie wouldn't think it was non- sense. Jokes are nonsense." "But you said a moment ago the fun of the Blank-book joke was that you couldn't wash windows with one. That's a fact, so how could it be nonsense?" 142 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "I never thought of it in that way," said Jim- inieboy . " Ah :" ejaculated the Blank-book. " Now that is really f uniiy, because I don't see how you could think of it in any other way." "I don't see anything funny about that," be- gan Jimmieboy. "Oh dear!" sighed the Blank-book. "We never shall agree, except that I am willing to believe that you know more about nonsense than I do. Perhaps you can explain this poem to me. I dreamt my poet wrote this on my twelfth page. It was called 'A Plane Tale:' "'I used to be so surly, that All men avoided me ; But now I am a diplomat, Of wondrous suavity. "*I met a carpenter one night, Who wore a dotted vest ; And when I asked if that was right, He told me to go West. "'I suized his saw and brandished it, As fiercely as I could, An 1 told him, with much show of wit, I thought he was no good. "'At that he looked me in the face, And said my tone was gruff ; My manner lacked a needed grace, In every way was rough. JIMMIEBOY AND THE BLANK-BOOK. 143 '"He seized and laid me on a plank, He gave i\ little cough ; And then, although my spirits sank, He planed me wholly off ! '"And ever since that painful night, When he so treated me, I've been as polished, smooth a wight, As any one can be. ' ' "There isn't much sense in that," said Jim- mieboy. "Well, now, I think there is," said the Blank- book. "There's a moral to that. Two of 'em. One's mind your own business. If the carpenter wanted to wear a dotted vest it was nobody's affair. The other moral is, a little plane speak- ing goes a great way." "Oh, what a joke!" cried Jimmieboy. "I didn't make any joke," retorted the Blank- book, his Russia-leather eover getting red as a beet. "Yes, you did, too," returned Jimmieboy. "Plane and plain don't you see? P-1-a-n-e and p-1-a-i-n." "Bah!" said the Blank-book. "Nonsense! That can't be a joke. That's a coincidence. Is that what you call a joke?" "Certainly," replied Jimmieboy. " Well, then, I'm not as badly off as I thought. 144 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. I wanted to be a poet's book and couldn't, but it is better to be used for a wash-list as I am than to help funny men to remember stuff like that. I am very grateful to you, Jimmieboy, for the information. You have made me see that I might have fared worse than I have fared, "IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL A JOKE?" and I thank you, and as I hear your mamma and papa coming up the stairs now, I'll run back to the desk. Good-night!" And the Blank-book kissed Jimmieboy, and scampered over to the desk as fast as it could, and the next day Jimmieboy begged so. hard for JIMMIEBOY AND THE BLANK-BOOK. 145 it that his mamma gave it to him for his very own. " What shall you do with it now that you have it?" asked mamma. "I'm going to save it till I grow up," returned Jimmieboy. "Maybe I'll be a poet, and I can use it to write poems in." 146 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. XII. JIMMIEBOY AND THE COMET. JIMMIEBOY was thinking very hard. He was also blinking quite as hard because he was undeniably sleepy. His father had been reading something to his mamma about a curious thing that lived up in the sky called a comet. Jimmie- boy had never seen a comet, nor indeed before that had he even heard of one, so of course his ideas as to what it looked like were rather con- fused. His father's description of it was clear enough, perhaps, but nevertheless Jimmieboy found it difficult to conjure up in his mind any reasonable creature that could in any way re- semble a comet. Finally , however, he made up his mind that it must look like a queer kind of a dog with nothing but a head and a tail or per- haps it was a sort of fiery polly wog. At any rate, while he thought and blinked, JIMMIEBOY AND THE COMET. 147 what should he see peeping in at him through the window but the comet itself. Jimmieboy knew it was the comet because the comet told him so afterward, and besides it wore a placard sus- pended about its neck which had printed on it in great gold letters : " I'm the Comet. Come out and take a ride through the sky with me." "Me?" cried Jimmieboy, starting up as soon as he had read the invitation. Immediately the word " Yes" appeared on the placard and Jimmieboy walked over to the win- dow and stepping right through the glass as though it were just so much air, found himself seated upon the Comet's back, and mounting to the sky so fast that his hair stood out behind him like so many pieces of stiff wire. "Are you comfortable?" asked the Comet, after a few minutes. "Yes," said Jimmieboy, "only you kind of dazzle my eyes. You are so bright." The Comet appeared to be very much pleased at this remark, for he smiled so broadly that Jim- mieboy could see the two ends of his mouth ap- pear on either side of the back of his neck. "You're right- about that," said the Comet. "I'm the brightest tiling there ever was. I'm all the time getting off jokes and things." 148 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "Are you really?" cried Jimmieboy, delighted. "I am so glad, for I love jokes and and things. Get off a joke now, will you?" "Certainly," replied the obliging- Comet. "You don't know why the moon is called she, do you?" "No," said Jimmieboy. "Why is it?" "Because it isn't a sun. so it must be a daugh- ter," said the Comet. "Isn't that funny?" "I guess so," said Jimmieboy, trying to look as if he thought the joke a good one. "But don't you know anything funnier than that?" "Yes," returned the Comet. "What do you think of this: What is the only thing you can crack without splitting it?" "That sounds interesting," said Jimmieboy, "but I'm sure I never could guess." "Why, it's a joke, of course," said the Comet. "You can crack a joke eight times a day and it's as whole as it ever was when night comes." "That's so," said Jimmieboy. "That's funnier than the other, too. I see now why they call you a Comic." "I'm not a Comic," said the Comet, with a laugh at Jimmieboy 's mistake. "I'm a Comet. I end with a T like the days when you have din- ner in the afternoon. They end with a tea, don't they?" JIMMIEBOY AND THE COMET. 149 "That's the best, yet," roared Jimmieboy. "If you give me another like that I may laugh harder and fall off, so I guess you'd better hadn't." "How would you like to hear some of my poetry?" asked the Comet. "I'm a great writer of poetry, I can tell you. I won a prize once for writing more poetry in an hour than any other Comet in school." "I'm very fond of it," said Jimmieboy. "Spec- ially when it don't make sense." "That's the kind I like, too," agreed the Comet. "I never can understand the other kind. I've got a queer sort of a head. I can't understand sense, but nonsense is as clear to me as well as turtle soup. Ever see any turtle soup?" "No," said Jimmieboy, "but I've seen tur- tles." " Well, turtle soup is a million times clearer than turtles, so maybe you can get some idea of what I mean." "Yes," said Jimmieboy. "I think I do. Non- sense poetry is like a window to you. You can see through it in a minute." "Exactly," said the Comet. "Only nonsense poetry hasn't any glass in it. so it isn't exactly like a window to me after all." 150 HALfr-ttO URS WITH JlMMIEBO Y. "Well, anyhow," put in Jimmieboy. "Let's have some of the poetry." "Very good," said the Comet. "Here goes. It's about an animal named the Speeler, and it's called 'The Speeler's Lament.' " Oh, many years ago, When Jack and Jill were young, There wandered* to and fro, Along the glistening snow, A Speeler, much unstrung. "I asked the Speeler why He looked so mortal sad ? He gazed into my eye, And then he made reply, In language very bad, "'I'm sad,' said he, 'because A Speeler true I be ; And yet, despite my jaws, My wings, and beak, and claws, Despite my manners free, '"Despite my feathers fine, My voice so soft and sweet, My truly fair outline, My very handsome spine, And massive pair of feet, "'In all this world of space- On foot, on fin, on wing From Nature's top to base, There never was a trace Of any such strange tiling. JIMMIEBOY AND THE COMET. 151 u ' And it does seem to me Indeed it truly does 'Tis dreadful, sir, to be, As you can plainly see, A thing that never \vas !' ' "What's a Speeler?" said Jimmieboy. " It isn't anything. There isn't any such thing as a Speeler and that's what made this particular Speeler feel so badly," said the Comet. "I know I'd feel that way myself. It must be dreadful to be something that isn't. I was sorry after I had written that poem and created the poor Speeler because it doesn't seem right to create a thing just for the sake of making it unhappy to please people who like poetry of that kind." "I'm afraid it was a sensible poem," said Jim- mieboy. "Because, really, Mr. Comet, I can't understand it." "Well, let me try you on another then, and take away the taste of that one. How do you like this. It's called 'Wobble Doo, the Squaller. u The Wobble Doo was fond of pie, He also loved peach jam. But what most pleased his eagle eye, Was pickled cakes and ham. "But when, perchance, he got no cake, Jam, ham, or pie at all, He'd sit upon a garden rake, And squall, and squall, and squall. 152 HALF-HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. " And as these never came his way, This hero of my rhyme, I really do regret to say, Was squalling all the time." "Your poems are all sad, aren't they?" said Jimmieboy. "Couldn't you have let Wobble Doo have just a little bit of cake and jam?" "No. It was impossible," replied the Comet, sadly, "I couldn't afford it. I did all I could for him in writing the poem. Seems to me that was enough. It brought him glory, and glory is harder to get than cakes and peach jam ever thought of being. Perhaps you'll like this better: " Abadee sollaker hollaker moo, Carraway, sarraway mollaker doo Hobledy, gobbledy, sassafras Sam, Taramy, faramy, aramy jam." "I don't understand it at all," said Jimmieboy. "What language is it in?" "One I made up myself," said the Comet, glee- fully. "And it's simply fine. IcallittheCometoo language. Nobody knows anything about it ex- cept myself, and I haven't mastered it yet -but my! It's the easiest language in the world to write poetry in. All you have to do is to go right ahead and make up words to suit yourself, JIMMIEBOY AND THE COMET. 153 and finding rhyme is no trouble at all when you do that." "But what's the good of it?" asked Jimmieboy. "Oh, it has plenty of advantages," said the Comet, shaking his head wisely. "In the first place if you have a language all your own, that nobody else knows, nobody else can write a poem in it. You have the whole field to yourself. Just think how great a man would be if he was the only one to understand English and write poetry in it. He'd get all the money that ever was paid for English poetry, which would be a fortune. It would come to at least $800, which is a good deal of money, considering." "Considering what?" asked Jimmieboy. "Considering what it would bring if wisely invested," said the Comet. "Did you ever think of Avhat $800 was worth in peanuts, for instance." Jimmieboy laughed at the idea of spending $800 in peanuts, and then he said : " No, I never tn ought anything about it. What is it worth in peanuts?" "Well, "said the Comet, scratching his head with his tail, "it's a very hard bit of arithmetic, but, I'll try to write it out for you. Peanuts, you know, cost ten cents a quart." " Do they?" said Jimmieboy. " I never bought a 154 HALF- HOURS WITH JIMM1EBOY. whole quart at once. I've only paid five cents a pint." " Well, five cents a pint is English for ten cents a quart," said the Comet, "and in $800 there are eight thousand ten centses, so that you could get eight thousand quarts of peanuts for $800. Now every quart of peanuts holds about fifty peanut shellfuls, so that eight thousand quarts of peanuts equal four hundred thousand peanuts shellfuls. Each peanut shell holds two small nuts so that in four hundred thousand of them there are eight hundred thousand nuts." "Phe-e-ew!" whistled Jimmieboy. "What a feast." "Yes," said tne Comet, "but just you wait. Suppose you ate one of these nuts a minute, do you know how long it would take you, eating eight hours a day, to eat up the whole lot?" "No," said Jimmieboy, beginning to feel a lit- tle awed at the wondrous possibilities of $800 in peanuts. " Four years, six months, three weeks and six days, and you'd have to eat Sundays to get through it in that time," said the Comet. "In soda water it would be quite as awful and in peppermint sticks at two cents a foot it would JIMMIEBOY AND THE COMET. 155 bring you a stick forty thousand feet, or more than seven miles long." "Isn't $800 wonderful," said Jimmieboy, over- come by the mere thought of so much pepper- mint candy. "Yes but really I am much more wonderful when you think of me. You haven't been on my back more than ten minutes and yet in that time I have taken you all around the world," said the Comet. "All the way!" said Jimmieboy. "Yes," said the Comet, stopping suddenly. "Here Ave are back at your window again." "But I didn't see China, and I wanted to," said the boy. "Can't help it," said the Comet. "You had your chance, but you preferred to talk about poetry and peanuts. It isn't my fault. Off with you, now." And then the Comet bucked like a wild West- ern Broncho, and as Jimmieboy went over his head through the window and landed plump in his papa's lap, the queer creature with the fiery tail flew off into space. 156 HALF-HOURS WITH JlMMlhBOY. CHAPTER XIII. JIMMIEBOY AND JACK FROST IN WHICH JACK GIVES OFFENCE. JIMMIEBOY is the proud possessor of a small brother, who, to use one of Jimmieboy's own expressions, is getting to be a good deal of a man. That is to say, he is old enough to go out driving all by himself, being eleven months of age, and quite capable of managing the fiery untamed nurse that pushes his carriage along the street. Of course, if the nurse had not been warranted kind and gentle when the baby's mamma went to find her in the beginning, little Russ would have had to have somebody go along with him when he went driving somebody like Jimmie- boy, for instance, to frighten off big dogs and policemen, and to see that the nurse didn't shy or run away but as it was, the baby had de- JIMMIEBOY AND JACK FROST. 157 veloped force of character and self-reliance enough to go out unattended, and, except on one occasion, he got back again safe and sound. This one occasion was early in December, when Nature, having observed that the great big boys had got through playing football and were beginning to think of snowballs, sent word to the Arctic Cold Weather Company that she desired to have delivered at once five days of low temperature for general distribution among her friends, which days were sent through by special messenger, arriving late on the night of December 1st. giving great satisfaction to every- body, particularly to those who deal in ice, ear- tabs, and skates. At first Jimmieboy's mamma thought that Nature was perhaps a little too generous with her frosty weather, and for two days she kept her two sons, Jimmieboy and Russ, cooped up in the house, laying in a supply of furnace and log-fire heat sufficiently large to keep them warm until the third day, when she thought that they might safely go out. Upon the third day Jimmieboy's papa said that he imagined the boys were warm enough to venture out-of-doors, so they were bundled up in leggings, fur-lined coats, flannel bands, scarfs, silk handkerchiefs, lamb's-wool rugs, and 158 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "arctics," the door was opened, and out they went. Jimmieboy staid out seven minutes, and then came in again to see if he could find out why his nose had suddenly changed its color, first from pink to red, and then from red to blue. He also wished to come in, he said, because the OfiS. JIMMIEBOY PREPARED FOR COLD WEATHER. solid iron driver of his red express wagon had been "freezed stiff," and he was afraid if he staid out much longer he'd never thaw out again. Little Russ, on the contrary, lying luxuri- ously in his carriage, with no part of him visible save the tip end of his chin, which was so fat that the coverings would slip off, no matter how JIMMIEBOY AND JACK FROST. 159 hard mamma and the nurse tried to make them stay on, remained out-of-dours for two hours, ap- parently very comfortable. His great blue eyes shone mirthfully when he came in, and until six o'clock that evening all went well with him, and then he began to whimper. "What's the matter with my baby?" asked Jimmieboy. Little Russ made no reply other than a grim- ace, which made Jimmieboy laugh, at which the LITTLE RUSS. baby opened his mouth as wide as he could and shrieked with wrath. "I'm inclined to think," said the nurse, as she sought vainly to find where a possible pin might be creating a disturbance to the baby's discom- fiture "I'm inclined to think that perhaps he's got a pain somewhere." And then the youthful Russ blinked his eyes, gave another shriek, and attempted to pout. Now it is a singular way little Russ has of pout- 160 HALF-HO UES WITH JIMMIEBO Y. ing. He gets it from his mamma, who used to pout in just the same way when she was a little girl so grandma says and it consists entirely of sticking his chin out as far as he can, while concealing his lower lip as much as possible be- neath the cherry-colored Cupid's bow that acts as his upper lip. A proceeding of this sort al- ways results in making that chin the most con- spicuous thing in the room, so that it is not sur- prising that when little Russ pouted every one in the room should at once notice that there was a great red spot upon it. "Why, the poor little soul has been frost-bit- ten!" cried mamma, running for the cold cream queer thing that, by-the-way, Jimmieboy thought. He would have put warm cream on a cold sore lik^ that. "So he is!" ejaculated papa, with an indignant glance at the chin, which only caused that tax little feature to pout the more. " Hadn't I better send for the doctor?" "Does clogs frost-bite?" queried Jimmieboy, looking a.round the room for a stick with which to beat the dog that had done the biting, if perchance it was a dog that was respon- sible. "No, indeed," said papa. "It wasn't a dog; JIMMIEBOY AND JACK FROST. 161 it was Jack Frost, and nobody else. He ought to be muzzlegL" "Who is Jack Frost, papa?" Jimmieboy asked, so much interested in Jack that he for a moment forgot his suffering small brother. "Jack? Why, Jack is a man named Frost, who deals in cold, and he goes around in winter biting people. He's a sort of iceman, only he's retired from trade, and gives things away, to people who don't want 'em. It would be better if he'd go into business, and sell his favors to people who do want 'em." "Well, he's a naughty man," said Jimmieboy. "Yes, indeed, he is," said papa. "Why, he's the man who withered all your mamma's plants, and painted our nice green lawn white; and then, when we wanted to dig holes for the fence posts, he came along and made the ground so hard it took all the edge off the spade, and made the hired man so tired that he overslept himself that night and let the furnace go out." "Can't somebody catch him, and put him into prism?" asked Jimmieboy. "Oh, he's been in prism lots of times," said papa, with a laugh at Jimmieboy 's droll word; "but he manages to get out again." "Where does he live, papa?" asked the boy. 162 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. ''All around in winter. In summer he goes north for his health." "And can't anybody ever get rid of him?" "No. The only way to do that successfully would be to burn him out, and so far nobody has ever been able to do it entirely. You can put him out of your own house; but, if he wants to, he'll stay around the place and nip your plants, and freeze up your wells, and put a web of ice on your grass and sidewalks in spite of anything you can do." By this time little Russ had quieted down and gone to sleep. The cold cream, aided by a huge bottleful of the food he liked best, which warmed up his little heart and various other parts of his being, to which the world had for a little while seemed bleak and drear, had put him in a con- tented frame of mind, and if the smile on his lips meant anything he had forgotten his woes in dreams of sweet and lovely things. It was not so, however, with Jimmieboy, who grew more and more indignant as he thought of that great lumbering ice-man, Jack Frost, com- ing along and biting his dear little brother in that cruel fashion. It was simply cowardly, he thought. Of course Jimmiebo} 7 could understand how any one might wish to take a bite of some- JIMMIEBOY AND JACK FROST. 163 thing that was as sweet as little Russ was, and when mosquitoes did it he was not disposed to quarrel with them, because it was courageous in a minute insect like a mosquito to risk his life for his sweetmeats, but with Jack Frost it was different. Why didn't he take a man of his size like papa, for instance, or the grocer man? He was afraid to that was it and so he fastened upon a poor, helpless little man like Russ, only eleven months old. "He ought to be hitted on the head," said Jim- mieboy. "That wouldn't do any good," said papa. "It wouldn't hurt him a bit. You couldn't kill him with a hundred ice-picks, and I don't believe even a steam-drill would lay him up more than a week. What he's afraid of is heat only heat, and nothing else. That cracks him all up and melts him, so that he can't bite anything." Then Jimmieboy had his supper and began playing with his toys until bedtime should come, but all the time his mind was on that cruel Jack Frost. Something else in the room was thinking about it, too, only Jimmieboy didn't know it. The little gas-stove that stood guard over by the fire-place was quite as angry about Jack's be- havior as anybody, but he kept very still until 164 HALF-HOURS WITH J1MMIEBOY. along abouc eight o'clock when he began to sput- ter. Jimmieboy stopped pushing his iron engine over the floor, and looked with heavy eyes at the gas-stove. This was extraordinary behavior for the stove, and Jimmieboy wondered what was the matter. "Say!" whispered the stove, as Jimmieboy looked at him. "Let's get after that Frost fellow and make him wish he never was born." Jimmieboy said nothing to this. He was too much surprised to say anything the idea of a gas-stove speaking to him was so absurd. He only gazed steadfastly at the extraordinary thing in the fireplace, and then let his head droop down on his arms as he lay on the floor, and in a moment would have been asleep had not the stove again sputtered. "Hi! Jimmieboy!" it cried. "Don't go to sleep. I know where Jack Frost lives, and we'll get after him and punish him for what he did to lit- tle Russ." "How?" asked Jimmieboy, crawling across the room on his hands and knees, and looking earnestly at this strange gas-stove. "Never mind how." returned the Stove. "I'll tell you that later. The point is, will you go? If JIMMIEBOY AND JACK FROST. 165 you will say the word I'll make all the arrange- ments, and we'll set off after everybody has gone to bed. It is a beautiful moonlight night. Everything is just right for a successful trip. There's enough snow on the ground for the sleigh, to move, and the river's all frozen over except in the middle. We can skate as far as the ice goes, and then, if there is no boat, we can put on your papa's arctics, and walk across the water to the other side. From there it's only a forty- minute skate to Jack's home. He'll come in about twelve o'clock, and we'll have him just where we want him. What do you say?" "I'll be in bed by the time you want to start," said Jiinmieboy. "I'd like to do it very much, but I don't know how to dress myself, and "Never mind that," returned the Gas Stove. "Go as you are." "In my night-gown? On a cold night like this?" queried the little fellow, more than ever astonished at the Gas Stove's peculiarities. "Why, certainly. I'll see that you are kept warm," returned the stove. "I've got warmth enough for twenty-six as it is, and if there's only two of us why, you see how it'll be. It'll be too warm for two of us." "That's so," said Jimmieboy. 166 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. thought of it that wav. I might sit on your lap if I couldn't keep warm any other way, eh?" "I've got a better way than that," said the Stove, dancing a little jig on the tiles. "I'll get you a pair of gas gloves, some gas ear-tabs, a patent nose furnace, an overcoat lined with gas- jets that can be lit so as to keep you warm with- out burning you, and leggings, shoes, hats, and THE GAS-STOVE TAPPED HIM LIGHTLY ON THE SHOULDER. everything you need to make you feel as happy and warm as a poached egg on toast." "That'll be splendid," said Jimmieboy. "I'll go, and we'll fix Jack so that he won't bite any of our people any more, eh?" "Yes," said the Gas Stove, delighted at the prospect. JIMMIEBOY AND JACK F&OST. 167 " Shall we muzzle him?" asked Jimmieboy. But the Gas Stove only winked, for just then mamma came up stairs from dinner, and as it was Jim- mieboy's nurse's night out. his mamma un- dressed the little fellow, and put him in his crib, where he shortly dropped off to sleep. In a little while everybody in the house had gone to bed, and when the last light had been extinguished the door of the room in which Jim- mieboy slept was slowly opened, and the Gas Stove, all his lights turned down so that nobody could see him in the darkness, tiptoed in, and climbing upon the side of Jimmieboy's crib tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "All ready?" he said, in a low whisper. "Yes," answered Jimmieboy, softly, as he arose and got down on the floor. " How do we go? Down the stairs?" "No," replied the Gas Stove. "We'll take the toy balloon up the chimney." Which they at once proceeded to do. I6d HALF-HOURS WITH J1MMIEBOY. XIV. IN WHICH JIMMIEBOY AND THE GAS STOVE MAKE A START. "NTOW jump into the sleigh just as quickly 1 i as you can, Jimmieboy," said the Stove, as they issued fortli into the cold night air. "Put on that fur cap and the overcoat, shoes, and gloves, and I'll light 'em up." "They won't burn, for sure?" queried Jimmie- boy, nervously, for the idea of wearing clothes heated by gas was a little bit terrifying. "Not a bit," said the Stove in reply. "I wouldn't give 'em to you if they would. Thanks," he added, turning and throwing a ten-cent piece to a gas boy, who handed him the reins by which the horses were controlled. "We'll be back about sunrise." "Very well," said the boy. "Do you want me turned on all night, sir?" JIMM2EBOY AND THE GAS-STOVK 160 "No," answered the Stove. "Gas is expensive these days. You can turn yourself out right away. Have you fed the horses?" "Yes, sir," said the boy. "They've each had four thousand feet by the meter for supper." "Fuel or illuminating?" queried the Stove. "Illuminating," replied the boy. "THIS IS PRETTY FINE, EH1" SAID THE GAS-STOVE. " Good," said the Stove. " That ought to make them bright. Good-by. Get up!" With this the horses made a spring forward- fiery steeds in very truth, their outlines in jets, each burning a small flame, standing out like lines of stars in the sky. "This is pretty fine, eh?" said the Gas Stove, with a smile, which, had any one looked, must 170 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. have; been visible for miles, so light and cheerful was it. "Lovely!" cried Jimmieboy, almost gasping in ecstasy. "I'm just as warm and comfortable as can be. I didn't know you had a team like this." "Ah, my boy," returned the Stove, "there's lots you don't know. For instance : "You don't know why a fire will burn On hot days merrily ; And when the cold days come, will turn As cold as I-C-E ! "You don't know why the puppies bark, Or why snap-turtles snap ; Or why a horse runs round the park, Because you say, 'git-ap.' "You don't know why a peach has fuzz Upon its pinky cheek ; Or what the poor Dumb-Crambo does When he desires to speak. "Do you? " "No, I don't," said Jimmieboy. "But I should like to very much." "So should I," said the Stove. "We're very much alike in a great many respects, and par- ticularly in those in which we resemble each other." The truth of this was so evident that Jimmie- J1MMIEBOY AND THE GAS-STOVE. 171 boy could think of nothing to say in answer to it, so he merely observed: "I'm awful hungry." This was a favorite remark of his, particularly between meals. "So am I," said the Stove. "Let's see what we've got here. Just hold the reins while I dive down into the lunch basket." Jimmieboy took the reins with some fear at first, but when he saw that they were high up in the air where there was really nothing but a star or two to run into, and realized that even they were millions of miles away, he soon got used to it, and was sorry when the Stove resumed control. "There, Jimmieboy," said the Stove, as he drew his hand out of the basket. "There's a nice hot ginger-snap for you. I think I'll take a snack of this fuel gas myself." "You don't eat gas, do you?" asked the small passenger. "I guess I do," ejaculated the Stove, with a smack of his lips. " As our Gas Poet Laureate said : "Oh, kerosene Is good, I ween, And so is apple sass ; But bring for me, Oh, chickadee, A bowl of fuel gas ! 172 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "Some persons like The red beefstike, The cow just dotes on grass Bat to my mind No one can find More toothsome things than gas. u And so I say, Bring me no hay ; No roasted deep-sea bass. Bring me no pease, Or fricassees, If, haply, you have gas." It's easy to eat, too," added the Stove. "In fact, I heard your papa say we consumed too much of it one day when he'd got his bill from the gas butcher." "Do you chew it?" asked Jimmieboy. "No, indeed. We take it in through a pipe. It isn't like soup or meat, though I sometimes think if people could take soup out of a pipe instead of from a spoon they'd look handsomer while they were eating. But the great thing about it is it's always ready, and if it comes cold, all you have to do is to touch a match to it, and it gets as hot as you could want." "I should think you'd get tired of it," said Jimmieboy. "Not at all. There's a great variety in gases. JIMMIEBOY AND THE GAS-STOVE. 173 There's fuel gas, ill animating gas, laughing gas, attagas "What's that last?" queried Jimmieboy. " Attagas ? Why, when we want a game din- ner, we have attagas. If you will look it up in the dictionary you will find that it's a sort of partridge. It's mighty good, too, with a sauce of stev/ed gasberries, and a mug or two of gaspar- illo to wash it down." Here Jimmieboy smacked his lips. Gaspar- illo truly sounded as if it might be very delight- ful, though I don't myself belive it is any less bitter to the taste than some other barks of trees, such as quinine, for instance. "Howdy do?" said the Stove, with a familiar nod to the east of them. "Howdy do!" replied Jimmieboy. "I wasn't speaking to you," said the Stove, with a laugh. " I was only nodding to an old friend of mine ; he's got a fine place up in the sky there. His name is Sirius. They call him the dog-star, and all he has to do is twinkle. You can't see him all the time from your house, but when you get up as high as this he stands right out and twinkles at you. Pretty good fellow, Sirius is. I might have had his place, but some- how or other I prefer to work in-dcors and rest 174 HALF- HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. nights. Sirius is out all the time, and has to keep awake all night. But we've got to get down to the earth again. Here's where we take to the skates." Jimmieboy looked over the edge of the sleigh as the horses turned in response to a movement of the reins, and started down to earth. He saw a great white river below him, flowing silently along a narrow winding channel, every- thing on tha border of which seemed bathed in silver except the middle of the river itself, a strip of forty or fifty feet in width, which was not frozen over. "That's Frostland," whispered the Gas Stove. "We can't get over to the other side with this team because they are very skittish, and if the sleigh were overturned and our ammunition lost we should be lost ourselves. We've got to land directly below where we are now, skate to the edge of the ice on this bank, row over to the other, and then skate again directly to the palace. We mustn't let anybody know who we really are, either, or we may have trouble, and we want to avoid that ; for you know, Jimmie- boy, "The man who gets along without A care or bit of strife, Is certain sure, beyond all doubt, To lead a happy life." JIMMIEBOY AND THE GAS-STOVE. 175 "But I can't skate," said Jimmieboy. "You can slide, can't you?" asked the Stove. "Yes, both ways. Standing up and sitting down." "Well, my patent steam skates, operated by gas, will attend to all the rest if you will only stand up straight," returned the Stove, and the sleigh dropped lightly down to the earth, and the two crusaders against Jack Frost alighted. "Isn't it beautiful here?" said Jimmieboy, as he looked about him and saw superb tall tr^es, their leaves white and glistening in the moon- light, bound in an icy covering that kept them always as he saw them then. " And look at the flowers," he added, joyously, as he caught sight of a bed of rose-bushes, only the flowers were lustrous as silver and of the same dazzling white- ness. "Yes," said the Gas Stove, sadly. "Every time Jack Frost withers a flower or a plant he brings it here, and it remains forever as you see them now; he has had the choice of the most beautiful things in the world. But come, we must hurry. Put on these skates." Jimmieboy did as he was told, and then the Stove lit a row of small jets of gas along the steel runners of the skates, and they grew warm 176 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. to Jimmieboy's feet, and in a moment little puffs of steam issued forth from them, and Jimmie- boy began to move, slowly at first, and then more and more quickly, until he was racing at break- neck speed. "Hi, Stovey!" he cried, very much alarmed to find himself speeding off through this strange country all alone. " Hurry up and catch me, or I'll be out of sight." "Keep on," hallooed the Stove in return. "Don't bother about me. I've got four feet to your two, and I can go twice as fast as you do. Keep on straight ahead, and I'll be up with you in a minute just as soon as I can get the am- munition and my hose out." "I wonder what he's going to do with the hose?" Jimmieboy asked himself. The Stove was too far behind him for the little skater to ask him. "Halt!" cried a voice in front of Jimmieboy. "I can't," gasped the little fellow, very much frightened, for as he gazed through the darkness to see who it was that addressed him, he per- ceived a huge snow man standing directly in his path. "You must," cried the Snow Man, opening his mouth and breathing forth an icy blast that JIMM1EBOY AND THE GAS-STOVE. 177 nearly froze the water in Jimmieboy's eyes. "You shall!" he added, opening his arms wide, so that before he knew it Jimmieboy was pre- cipitated into them. "HALT!" CRIED A VOICE IN FRONT. "See?" said the Snow Man. "I can compel y " The Snow Man never got any further with this remark, for in a moment Jimmieboy passed 178 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. straight through him. The heat of Jimmieboy's clothes had melted a hole through the Snow Man, and as the small skater turned to look at his adversary he saw him standing there, his head, his sides, and legs still intact, but from his waist down all the middle part of him had dis- appeared. "Dear me ! How sad," Jimmieboy said. "Not at all," responded a voice beside him. "It serves him right; he's the meanest Snow Man that ever lived. If you hadn't melted him he'd have turned himself into an avalanche, and then you'd have been buried so deep in snow and ice you'd never have got out." "Who are you?" queried Jimmieboy, with a startled glance in the direction whence the voice seemed to come. "Only what you hear," replied the voice. "I am a voice. Jack Frost froze the rest of me and carted it away, and left me here for the rest of my life." "What were you?" "I cannot remember," said the voice. "I may have been anything you can think of. You could stand there and call me ail the names you chose, and I couldn't deny that I was any of them, JIMMIEBOY AND THE GAS-STOVE. 179 "Sometimes I think I may have been A piece of apple pie ; Perhaps a great and haughty queen, Perhaps a gaily dressed marine, In former days was I. U I may have been a calendar, To tell some man the date ; I may have been a railway car, A rocket or a shooting star, Or e'en a roller skate. " I may have been a jar of jam, Perhaps a watch and chain ; I may have been a boy named Sam, An oyster or a toothsome clam, Perhaps a weather vane. "I may have been a pot of ink, A sloop or schooner yacht ; I may have been the missing link, But ivhat I was I cannot think For I have quite forgot. All I know is that I was something once; that Jack Frost came along and caught me and added me to his collection of curiosities, where I have been ever since. They call me the invisible chat- ter-box, and tell visitors that I escaped from the National Vocabulary at Washington." "I am very sorry for you/' said Jimmieboy, sympathetically. needn't be," said the voice, "I'm happy ! 180 HALF-HOURS WITH J1MMIEBOY. I'm the only curiosity here that can be im- pudent to King Jack. I can say what I please, you know, and there's no way of punishing me; I'm like a newspaper in that respect. I can go into any home, high or low. say what I please, and there you are. Nobody can hurt me at all. Oh, it's just immense. I play all sorts of tricks THE SNOW MAN. on Jack, too. I get right up in front of his mouth and talk ridiculous nonsense, and people think he says it. Why, only the other night a Snow Man I don't like went in to see Jack, and Jack liked him tremendously, too, and was really glad to see him j but before the King had a chance to JIMMIEBOY AND THE GAS-STOVE. I8t say a word I hallooed out: 'Get out of here, you donkey. Go make snowballs of your head and throw them at yourself;' and the Snow Man thought Jack said it, and, do you know, he went outside and did it. He's been laid up ever since." "I think that was a very mean thing to do," said Jimmieboy. "I'd agree with you if I had any conscience, but alas! they've deprived me of that too," sighed the voice. "But look out," it added, hastily. "Throw yourself into that snow-bank or you'll fall into the river." Without waiting to think why, Jimmieboy obeyed the voice and threw himself headlong into a huge snow bank at his side, and glanced anx- iously about him. He was indeed, as the voice had said, on the very edge of the ice, and another yard's advance would have landed him head over heels in the rushing water. "That would have been awful, wouldn't it?" he said to the Stove, as his little friend came up. "Yes, it would," returned the Stove. "It would have put out the lights in your clothes, and that would have been very awful, for I find we have come away without any matches. Jump into the 182 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. boat, now, and row as straight for the other side as you can." Jimmieboy looked about him for a boat, but couldn't see one. "There is no boat," lie said. "Yes, there is jump!" cried the Stove. And Jimmieboy jumped, and, strange to relate, found himself in an instant seated amidships in an exquisitely light row-boat made entirely of ice. "Row fast, now," said the Stove. "If you don't the boat will melt before we can get across." IN THE HEART OP FROSTLAND. 183 XV. IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND. WE'RE afloat ! We're afloat ! In our trim ice-boat ; And we row Yeave ho ' "I guess I won't sing any more." said the Gas Stove. " It's a hard song to sing, that is, par- ticularly when you've never heard it before, and can't think of another rhyme for boat." "That's easy enough to find," returned Jim- mieboy, pulling at the oars. " Coat rhymes with boat, and so do note and moat and goat and "Very true," assented the Stove, "but it wouldn't do to use coat because we take our coats off when we row. Note is good enough but you don't have time to write one when you are singing a sea-song. Moat isn't any good, because 184 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. nobody 'd know whether you meant the moat of a castle, a sun-moat, or the one in your eye. As for goats, goats don't go well in poetry. So I guess ifr's just as well to stop singing right here." "How fast we go!" said Jimmieboy. "What did you expect?" asked the Stove. "The bottom of this boat is as slippery as can be, and, of course, going up the river against the current we get over the water faster than if we were going the other way because we er because we well because we do." "Seems to me," said Jimmieboy, "I'd better turn out some of 1he gas in my coat. I'm melt- ing right through the seat here." "So am I," returned the Stove, with an anx- ious glance at the icy craft. " It won't be more than a minute before I melt my end of the boat -all to pieces. I'm afraid we'll have to take to our arctics after all. I brought a pair of your father's along, and it's a good thing for us that he has big feet, for you'll have to get in one and I in the other." Just then the stern of the boat melted away, and the Stove, springing up from his seat and throwing himself into one of the arctics, with his ammunition and rubber hose, floated off. Jimmieboy had barely time to get into the other IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND. 185 arctic when his end of the ice-boat also gave way, and a cross-current in the stream catching the arctic whirled it about and carried it and its little passenger far away from the Stove who shortly disappeared around a turn in the river, so that Jirnmieboy was left entirely alone in ut- ter ignorance as to where he really was or what he should do next. Generally Jimmieboy was a very brave little boy, but he found his present circumstances rather trying. To be floating down a strange river in a large overshoe, with absolutely no knowledge of the way home, and a very dim notion only as to how he had managed to get where he was, was terrifying, and when he realized his position, great tears fell from Jim- mieboy 's eyes, freezing into little pearls of ice before they landed in the bottom of the golosh, where they piled up so rapidly that the strange craft sank further and further into the water and would certainly have sunk with their weight had not the voice Jimmieboy had encountered a little while before come to his rescue. "Golosh, ahoy!" cried the voice. "Captain! Captain! Lean over the side and cry in the river or you'll sink your boat." The sound of the voice was a great relief to the little sailor who at once tried to obey the order 186 HALF-HOURS WITH JlMMlEBOY. lie had received but found it unnecessary since his tears immediately dried up. GOLOSH, AHOY "Come out herein the boat with me!" cried Jimmieboy. "I'm awful lonesome and I don't know what to do." IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND. 187 "Then there is only one thing you can do," said the voice from a point directly over the buckle of the arctic. "And that is to sit still and let time show you. It's a great thing, Jimmieboy, when you don't know what to do and can'i find any one to tell you, to sit down and do nothing, because if you did something you'd be likely to find out afterwards that it was the wrong thing. When I was young, in the days when I was what I used to be, I once read a poem that has lingered with me ever since. It was called 'Wait and See' and this is the way it went: "When you are puzzled what to do, And no one's nigh to help you out ; You'll find it for the best that you Should wait until Time gives the clew. And then your business go about Of this there is no doubt. "Just see the cow ! She never knows What's going to happen next, so she Contented 'mongst the daises goes, In clover from her head to toes, From care and trouble ever free She simply waits, you see ! "The horse, unlike the cow, in fear Jumps to and fro at maddest rate, Tears down the street, doth snort and rear, 188 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. And knocks the wagon out of gear And just because he does not wait, His woes accumulate. "D. Crockett, famous in the past, The same sage thought hath briefly wed To words that must forever last, Wherever haply they be cast : 'Be sure you're right, then go ahead,' "That's what D. Crockett said. Lots in that. If you don't now what to do," con- tinued the voice, "don't do it." " I won't," said Jimmiehoy. " But do you know where we are?" "Yes." said the voice. " I am here and you are there, and I think it we stay just as we are for- ever there is not likely to he any change, so why repine? We are happy." Just then the golosh passed into a huge cavern, whose sides glistened like silver, and from the roof of which hung millions of beautiful and at times fantastically shaped icicles. "This," said the voice, "is the gateway to the Kingdom of Frostland. At the far end you will see a troop of ice soldiers standing guard. I doubt very much if you can get by them, unless you have retained a great deal of that heat you had. How is it? Are you still lit?" IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND. 189 "I am," said Jimmieboy. "Just put your hand on my chest and see how hot it is." "Can't do it," returned the voice, "for two reasons. First, I haven't a hand to do it with, and secondly, if I had. I couldn't see with it. People don't see with their hands any more than they sing with their toes ; but say, Jimmieboy, wouldn't it be funny if we could do all those things eh? What a fine poem this would be if it were only sensible: " A singular song having greeted my toes, I stared till I weakened the sight of my nose To see what it was, and observed a sweet voice Come forth from the ears of Lucinda, so choice. " I cast a cough-drop in the lovely one's eyes, Who opened her hands in a tone of surprise, And remarked, in a way that startled my wife, 'I never was treated so ill in my life.' "Then tears in a torrent coursed over her arms, And the blush on her teeth much heightened her charms, As, tossing the cough-drop straight back, with a sneeze, She smashed th^ green goggles I wear on my knees.'' Jimmieboy laughed so long and so loudly at this poetical effusion that he attracted the atten- tion of the guards, who immediately loaded their 190 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. guns and began to pepper the invaders with snowballs. " Throw yourself down on your stomach in the toe of the golosh," whispered the voice, "and they'll never know you are there. Keep perfectly quiet, and when any questions are asked, even if you are discovered, let me answer them. I can disguise myself so that they won't recognize me, and they'll think I'm your voice. In this way I think I can get you through in safety." So Jimmieboy threw himself down in the golosh, and the voice began to sing. "No, no, my dear, I do not fear The devastating snow-ball ; When it strikes me, I shriek with glee, And eat it like a dough-ball." "Halt!" cried the ice-guards. "Who are you?" "I am a haunted overshoe," replied the voice. " I am on the foot of a phantom which only ap- pears at uncertain hours, and is consequently now invisible to you. u And, so I say, Oh, fire away, I fear ye not, icicles ; Howe'er ye shoot, I can't but hoot, Your act so greatly tickles, " IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND. 191 "Shall we let it through?" asked the Captain of the guards. "I mo ye we do," said one High Private. "I move we don't," said another. "All in favor of doing one thing or the other say aye," cried the Captain. "HALT!" CRIED THE ICE-GUARDS. "Aye!" roared the company. "Contrary-minded, no," added the Captain. "No!" roared the company. "Both motions are carried," said the Captain. "We will now adjourn for luncheon," 192 HALF-HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. The overshoe, meanwhile, had floated on down through the gates and was now out of the guards' sight and Jimmieboy sprang to his feet and looked about him once more, and what he saw was so beautiful that he sat speechless with de- light. He was now in the heart of Frostland, and before him loomed the Palace, a marvelously massive pile of richly carven ice-blocks trans- parent as glass ; and within, seated upon a throne of surpassing brilliance and beauty, sat King Jack surrounded by his courtiers, who were sing- ing songs the like of which Jimmieboy never be- fore had heard. "Now remember, Jimmieboy," said the voice, as the overshoe with its passengers floated softly up to the huge snow-pier that ran out into the river at this point where they disembarked "remember I am to do all the talking. Other- wise you might get into trouble." "All right, Voicy," began Jimmieboy, and then there came a terrific shout from within. "Who comes here!" cried King Jack, rising from his throne and pointing his finger at Jim- mieboy. " I am a traveling minstrel," Jimmieboy seemed to reply though in reality it was the kind- hearted voice that said it, "And I have come a IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND. 193 thousand and six miles, eight blocks, fourteen feet, six inches to recite to your Majesty a poem I have written in honor of your approaching Jubilee." "Have I a Jubilee approaching?" roared Jack, turning to his Secretary of State, who was so startled that his right arm melted. " WHO COMES HERE 1" " Y yes, your Majesty," stammered the Secre- tary, with a low bow. " It is coming along at the rate of sixty seconds a minute." "Why have I not been informed of this be- fore?" roared Jack, casting a glance at the cowering Secretary that withered the nose 194 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. straight off his face. "Don't you know that Jubilees are useful to a man only because other people give him presents in honor of the event? And here you've kept me in ignorance of the fact all this time, and the chances are I won't get a thing for I've neglected my relatives dreadfully." "Sire," pleaded the Secretary, "all that you say is true, but I have attended to all that. I have informed your friends that the Jubilee is coming, and they are all preparing pleasant little surprises for you. We are going to give your Majesty a surprise party, which is the finest kind of a party, because you don't have to go home after it is over, and the guests bring their own fried oysters, and pay all the bills." "Ah!" said Jack, melting a little. "You are a good man, after all. I will raise your salary, and send your children a skating-pond on Christ- mas day; but when is this Jubilee to take place?" "In eight hundred and forty-seven years," re- turned, the voice, who did not like the Secretary of State, ani wanted to get him in trouble. " On the eighty-second day of July. " " What a a f ?" roared the King, glaring at the Secretary. IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND. 195 "I didn't say a word, sire," cried the unfortun- ate Secretary. "No?" sneered Jack. "I suppose it was I that answered my own question, 'eh? That settles you. The idea of my waiting eight hundred and forty-seven years for a Jubilee that, is to take place on an impossible date ! Executioner, take the Secretary of State out to the furnace-room, and compel him to sit before the fire until there's only enough of him left to make one snowball. Then take that and throw it at the most decrepit hack-driver in my domain. The humiliation of this delayer of Jubilees must be complete." The Secretary of State was then led weeping away, and Jack, turning to the awed Jimmie- boy, shouted out : " Now for the minstrel. If the poem pleaseth our Royal Coolness, the singer shall have the position made vacant by that unfortunate snow- drift I have just degraded. Step right up, young fellow, and turn on the poem." " Step up to the foot of the throne and make a bow, and leave the rest to me,' ] whispered the voice to Jimmieboy. "All you've got to do is to move your lips and wave your arms. I'll do the talking." . Jimmieboy did as he was bade. He took up his 196 HALF- HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y. stand before the throne, bowed, and the voice began to declaim as Jimmieboy's lips moved, and his arms began to shoot out, first to the left and then to the right. "This poem," said the voice, "is in the lan- guage of the Snortuguese, and has been pre- pared at great expense for this occasion, four- teen gallons of ink having been consumed on the first stanza alone, which runs as follows: "Jack Frigidos, Jack Frigidos, Oh, what a trope you are ! How you do shine And ghibeline, * And conjugate afar !" "It begins very well, oh, minstrel!" said Jack, with an approving nod. "The ink was well ex- pended. Mount thee yon table, and from thence deliver thyself of the remnant of thy rhyme." "Thanks," returned the voice; "I will." " Get up on the table, Jimmieboy," the voice added, "and we'll finish 'em off there. Be a little slow about it, for I've got to have time to compose the rest of the poem." So Jimmieboy clambered up the leg of the table, and in a few moments was ready for the voice to begin, which the voice proceeded to do. IN THE HEART OF FRO STL AND. 197 " I will repeat the first verse, your Majesty, for the sake of completeness. And here goes: "Jack Frigidos, Jack Frigidos, Oh, what a trope you are ! How you do shine, And ghibeline, And conjugate afar ! "How debonair Is thy back hair ; Thy smile how contraband ! Would I could ape Thy shapely shape, And arrogate thy hand ! "That nose of thine, How superfine ! How pertinent thy chin. How manifest The palimpsest And contour of thy shin ! " How ormolu Thy revenue ! How dusk thy silhouette ! How myrtilly Thy pedigree Doth grace thine amulet ! "What man is there, Ay, any were, What mortal chanticleer, 198 HALP-HO URS WITH JIMMIEBO Y Can fail to find Unto his mind Thy buxom bandolier ! u Ah, Frigidos ! Jack Frigidos, In parcel or in keg, Another like Thee none can strike From Dan to Winnipeg." Here the voice paused. "Is that all?" queried Jack Frost. "It is all I have written up to this moment/' the voice answered. "Of course there are seventy or eighty more miles of it, because, as your Majesty is well aware, it would take many a league of poetry fitly to commemorate your virtues." "Your answer is pleasing unto me," replied the monarch of Frostlaiid, when the voice had thus spoken. "The office of the Secretary of State is yours. The salary is not large, but the duties are. They are to consist mainly of Here the King was interrupted by a tremen- dous noise without. Evidently some one was creating a disturbance, and as Jimmieboy turned to see what it was, he saw the great ice moun- tain looming up over the far-distant horizon melt slowly away and dwindle out of sight; and IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND. 199 then messengers, breathless with haste, rushed in and cried out to the King : " We are attacked ! we are attacked ! A tribe from a far country, commanded by the Gas Stove, is even now within our boundaries, armed with a devastating hose, breathing forth fire, by which already has been destroyed the whole western frontier. " THE GAS-STOVE -DESTROYING "What is to be done?" cried Jack, in alarm, and springing to his feet. "Can we not send a regiment of cold winds out against them, and freeze them to their very marrows and blow out the gas?" "We cannot, sire," returned the messenger, "for the heat is so deadly that the winds them- selves thaw into balmy zephyrs before they reach the enemy." 200 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "Not so!" cried the voice from Jimmieboy's lips. " For I will save you if you will place the matter in my hands." "Noble creature!" sobbed Jack, grasping Jim- mieboy by the hand. " Save my kingdom from destruction, and all that }'ou ask of me in the future is yours." And Jimmieboy, promising to help Jack, started out, clad with all the authority of his high office, to meet the Gas Stove. THE END OF THE STORY. 201 XVI. THE END OF THE STORY. AS Jimmieboy proceeded along the icy road he observed that everything was beginning to thaw, and then, peering as far into the dis- tance as he could, he saw a great flame burning fiercely and scorching everything with which it came in contact. It was quite evident that the Gas Stove had brought with him the most effec- tive ammunition possible for his purposes. "I don't see. exactly how he does it," said the newly appointed Secretary of State, as he ran hurriedly toward the devastating fire. "Easy enough," returned the voice. "He has brought along a large quantity of gas and a gar- den hose, and he has turned on the gas just as you would turn on water, lit it, and there you are. There is absolutely no withstanding him, 202 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. and unless he can be induced to stop very shortly, he'll destroy this whole kingdom, and we'll have nothing but a desert ocean; and I can tell you, Jimmieboy, a desert ocean where there is nothing but water is worse than a desert desert where there is nothing but sand." *'It seems almost a pity to destroy such a beautiful place as this," said Jimmieboy, looking about him, taking note of the great tall ice- covered trees and the frost flowers and grasses at the road-side. " But, you know, Jack Frost bit my little brother, which was very cowardly of him, and that's why the Gas Stove and I have come here to fight." "I think you are wrong there," said the voice. " I don't believe Jack any more than kissed him ; but if he did bite him, it was because he loved him." Jimmieboy had never thought of it in that light before. .All he knew was that whatever Jack Frost had done, it had brought tears to lit- tle Russ's eyes and woe to his heart. " It's rather a funny way to show love to bite a person." said Jimmieboy. "Just let me ask you a few questions," said the voice. "Do you like cherries and peaches?" THE END OF THE STORY. 203 "Oh, don't I!" cried Jimmieboy, smacking his lips. " I just dote on 'em !" "Then," said the voice, "Why do you bite the cherry sweet? Why in the peach do your teeth meet?" "Hever thought of it that way," said Jimmie- boy. "I suppose not," returned the voice. " Are you fond of apples and gingerbread" "Well, rather!" ejaculated Jimmieboy. "Then tell me this," asked the voice: "Why-do you gnaw the apple red? Why do you chew your gingerbread ?" "Because I like 'em," returned Jimmieboy. "Why do you crunch your taffy brown? Why do you nibble your jumble down ? Why do you munch your candy ball? Why do you chew at all at all?" continued the voice. "To make things last longer. 'Tain't proper to gulp 'em all down at once," answered Jimmie- boy. "And that's why Jack Frost bit little Russ," asserted the voice. "In the first place, he loved him. Little Russ was to him as sweet as a cherry is to you. In the second place, he took a 204 HALF- HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. little wee bite, because it wasn't proper to gulp him all down. To-morrow that bite spot will be well, and little Russ will be none the worst for it. Now I don't see why you should want to ruin all this beautiful country just for that. It isn't a crime to love babies or to eat cherries." "That's so," said Jimmieboy. "But Jack Frost has done other things. He killed a lot of mam- ma's flowers." "No, he didn't." returned the voice. "Your mamma left 'em out-doors all night, and Jack came along and did just what the bees do. He took all the sweetness he could find out of 'em, and brought them here, where he planted them and made them appear like flowers of silver. You see what the heat down there is doing?" Jimmieboy looked, and saw the icy covering melting off the flowers and trees, and as the sil- ver coating fell away they would wave softly in the balmy air for a moment, and then wither and crumble away. " Isn't that too bad ?" he said. "It is, indeed," replied the voice. "Those flowers and trees would have stood and lived on forever in their ice coats ever fresh, ever happy. The warmth from the invader's fire gives them one glad mad moment of ecstasy, THE END OF THE STORY. 205 and then they wither away, and are lost forever. Is that worth while, my boy?" The voice quivered a little as it uttered these words, and Jimmieboy felt tears rising in is own eyes too. Jack Frost was not so bad a fellow, after all, as he had been made out. "But he made our hired mairs back ache when he went to dig some holes for the fence posts," said Jimmieboy, who now felt that he should have some excuse for his presence in Frostland, and on a mission of destruction. " Was that right of him?" "Even if it was his fault, it was right," said the voice. "I don't believe it was his fault, though. Hired men have a way of having back- ache when there's lots to do. But supposing Jack did give it to him. That hired man was taking a spade and scarring Mother Earth with its sharp edge. Jack Frost gets all that he has from Mother Earth. She has given him work to do- work that has made him what he is and it was his duty to protect her." "Well, I don't know what to do," said Jimmie- boy, beginning to sob. " I came here for revenge, and I don't think " There is only one thing for you to do, be true to those who trust you," said the voice. "Now 206 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. who trusts you? Your nurse doesn't she wouldn't let you out of her sight. Your papa be- lieves in you, but he never would have intrusted such a mission as this to your hands; nor would your mamma or little Russ. On the other hand, Jack Frost has made 3 r ou Secretary of State, and you promised to help him in this dreadful trial he trusts you. As the poem says, "E'en though it's sure to take and bust you, Be ever true to them that trust you." "I'll save them," said Jimmieboy. And then he started off on a run down the road, and ere long stood face to face with the Gas Stove. The latter immediately threw down his hose, turned off the gas, and clasped Jimmieboy to his heart. "Saved! Saved!" he cried. "I have found you at last. Dear me, how anxious I have been about you!" And then he burst out in song: "But now, O joy? My.averdupoy Will steadily increase ; For, now you're back, My woes will pack Their clothes in their valise, "And fly afar, To the uttermost star That shines up in. th'e. skies, THE END OF THE STORY. 207 While you and I Will warble high The gleesomest of cries. "We'll sing and sing, And warble and sing, And warble, and sing, and sing, And warble and sing, And sing, sing, sing, And warble and sing, sing, sing," "Come off!" ejaculated the voice. "That's mighty poor poetry for a Stove that's as glad as you are." "Why, Jimmieboy, you pain me," said the Gas Stove, who thought that it was his little friend that had spoken, "I didn't think you would criticize my song of happiness that way." "I never said a word," said Jimmieboy. "It was my friend the voice, who helped me when I was in trouble, and "And by whose efforts," interrupted the voice, "our Jimmieboy here is now the Right Honor- able Jamesboy, Secretary of State to his Majesty the Emperor of Frostland. Prince of Iceberg, Marquis Thawberry, and Chief Ice-cream Freezer to all the crowned heads of Europe, Asia, Africa, Austrilia and New Jersey. I'd advise you to take off your hat, Mr. Stove, for you are in the presence of a great man." 208 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "No, no," cried Jimmieboy, as the Gas Stove doffed his iron lid; " don't take off your hat to me, Stovey. 1 am all that he says, but I am still Jimmieboy, and your friend." "But what becomes of your war?" queried the Gas Stov6, ruefully. "I can't fight against you, and you are a part of the government." "That's a very sensible conclusion," said the voice. " Only I wouldn't let King Jack know that, or he wouldn't ever let Jimmieboy go away from here. What you want to do is to make terms that will be satisfactory to both parties, get Jack Frost to agree to 'em, and there you are. If he won't agree, the Gas Stove will have to go on with the war until he does agree." "That's the thing to do, I suppose," said the Stove. "What shall I insist upon, Mr. Secre- tary" "Well, I think Jack ought to quit biting babies, no matter if he does love 'em," said Jim- mieboy. "I insist upon it," said the Gas Stove, firmly. "I think, too," said Jimmieboy, "that he ought not to run off with so many flowers." "If you do not agree to that, Mr. Secretary," returned the Stove, " I shall turn on my canned devastation again." THE END OF THE STORY. 209 "I shall endeavor to secure the King's con- sent," replied Jimmieboy. "And, furthermore, he must keep away from the water-pipes in my papa's house. He froze 'em all up last winter." "That is my ultimatum," said the Stove. "Your what?" queried Jimmieboy. "My last word," explained the Stove. "It's long enough to have been a half-dozen of your last words," laughed the voice. "But is that all you're to agree upon?" " I don't know of anything more," said Jimmie- boy. "Nor I," said the Stove. "You're a mean couple," ejaculated the voice, angrily. "If I had my way, you'd do something for one who has served you when you were in trouble," he added, addressing Jimmieboy. "Where would you have been if it hadn't been for for well, for a friend of mine?" " I don't know who you mean," said Jimmieboy. "He wants something for himself," whispered the Gas Stove, "and he is right." "Oh, you don't know who I mean, eh?" sneered the voice. And then he added : "Who saved you from the icy sea. And brought you through S-A-F-E ? Why, ME ! 210 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "Who thought about that jubilee, And filled Jack Frost chock up with glee? Why, ME ! " Who all your goings did o'ersee, And got this lofty place for thee ? Why, ME! "That's who. Now what are you going to about it?" CMS. THE GAS-STOVE IS INTRODUCED TO THE KING. "He's going back to Jack Frost," said the Gas Stove, "and he is going to demand that you shall be made Secretary of State in his place, and he is going to tell Jack that if he ever removes you from that position I shall return and destroy the country." "You are very moderate in your demands," said the voice. " I think King Jack will be very foolish if he refuses to acceede to them, particu- larly that one having reference to myself, I do THE END OF THE STORY. 211 not care for the office, of course, but since there seems to be a demand for me, I shall accept." So Jimmieboy, followed by the Gas Stove and the voice, returned to the palace, and the de- mands of the Stove were laid before the monarch. "I'll agree to 'em all gladly," said he, "save THE GAS-STOVE BURNING MERRILY AND WINKING AT HIM FROM THE FIREPLACE. that which forces me to deprive myself of your valuable services. Was he quite firm about that?" "He was!" shouted the voice, before Jimmie- boy could speak. Here somebody else in the distance seemed to call: "Jimmieboy! Hi! Jimmieboy!" 212 HALF-HOURS WITH JIMMIEBOY. "Shall I accede or stand by you?" asked Jack, taking Jimmieboy by the hand. " You'd better accede," said Jimmieboy, looking around to see who was calling him, " for I have just heard some one calling me my papa, I think and I guess it's time for me to get up." What Jack's response to this curious remark would have been no one knows, for just then a most strange thing took place. Jack Frost and his palace in an instant faded completely from view, and Jimmieboy in surprise closed his eyes, rubbed them with both his fists, and then opened them again, to find himself in his little cot in the nursery, the gas-stove burning merrily and winking at him from the fireplace, and the friendly voice, as usual, nowhere to be seen, and now not even to be heard. No sole remnant of the frozen country re- mained, save a few beautiful frcst pictures on the windows, which, it seemed to Jimmieboy, Jack had left there in remembrance of the ser- vices Jimmieboy had done him ; and as for the frost kiss on little Russ's chin, it had become as invisible as that far sweeter kiss that mam- ma had placed upon that very same spot when she first discovered what Jack had done. (THE END.) :^ ^> rf\ M" S5^ PM 1 :yP tl^^llli^^ -')' : :^HS^ ^iil llllli^ei