Project Gutenberg's Seven O'Clock Stories, by Robert Gordon Anderson This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Seven O'Clock Stories Author: Robert Gordon Anderson Posting Date: March 27, 2014 [EBook #7802] Release Date: April, 2005 First Posted: May 18, 2003 Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVEN O'CLOCK STORIES *** Produced by Juliet Sutherland, William Flis, Ted Garvin and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines. SEVEN O'CLOCK STORIES BY ROBERT GORDON ANDERSON TO JEAN AND MALCOLM TO WHOM THESE STORIES WERE FIRST TOLD CONTENTS FIRST NIGHT THE THREE HAPPY CHILDREN SECOND NIGHT THE PLAYMATES OF THE THREE HAPPY CHILDREN THIRD NIGHT NOISY FOLKS FOURTH NIGHT JUST BEFORE SUPPER FIFTH NIGHT THE TOYMAN SIXTH NIGHT THE WILLOW WHISTLE SEVENTH NIGHT MR. SCARECROW EIGHTH NIGHT THE PRETTIEST FAIRY STORY IN THE WORLD NINTH NIGHT ANOTHER TRUE FAIRY STORY TENTH NIGHT THE HAPPY ENDING OF THE ORIOLE'S STORY ELEVENTH NIGHT MOTHER HEN AND ROBBER HAWK TWELFTH NIGHT ABOUT DUCKIE THE STEPCHILD AND THE LITTLE SHIP THIRTEENTH NIGHT THE TALL ENEMY FOURTEENTH NIGHT THE SLEIGH AND THE TINY REINDEER FIFTEENTH NIGHT JACK FROST AND THE MAN-IN-THE-MOON SIXTEENTH NIGHT SLOSHIN' SEVENTEENTH NIGHT THE CIRCUS COMES TO TOWN EIGHTEENTH NIGHT THE JOLLY CLOWN NINETEENTH NIGHT WIENERWURST'S BRAVE BATTLE TWENTIETH NIGHT THE LIONS OF THE NORTH WIND ILLUSTRATIONS "AND THERE ON THE HILL SAT A JOLLY OLD MAN, ROUND AND FAT, WITH A PIPE IN HIS MOUTH AND A SACK ON HIS BACK" "THE THREE HAPPY CHILDREN LIVE IN THE COUNTRY" "WIENERWURST CAUGHT A PRETTY PIGEON BY ITS TAIL AND BIT IT" "THE DUCKS, THE SWANS, AND THE GEESE ARE VERY FOND OF THE POND, BUT THEIR COUSINS THINK IT A DREADFUL PLACE" "PRIMROSE, DAISY, BUTTERCUP, AND OLD BLACK-EYED SUSAN WALKED INTO THE BIG BARN" "ON THE LINE SOMETHING WRIGGLED. IT WAS ROUND AND SHINY AND GOLD" "THE TOYMAN WORKED WITH HIS KNIFE VERY CAREFULLY" "'THERE, OLD WOODEN TOP,' THE TOYMAN SPOKE TO MR. SCARECROW STERNLY" "THE THREE HAPPY CHILDREN SET TO WORK WITH THE THREE SHINY RAKES" "THE ORIOLES WERE VERY HAPPY BIRDS" "FATHER AND MOTHER ORIOLE TAUGHT THEM TO FLY" "THE EVIL EYE OF ROBBER HAWK LOOKED DOWN AT THE FRIGHTENED WHITE WYANDOTTES" "THE WIND FILLED THE SAILS OF THE LITTLE SHIP AND OFF SHE WENT" "ON THROUGH THE SNOW THE TALL ENEMY MARCHED" "HITCHED TO THE SLEIGH WERE TWO TINY BROWN REINDEER WITH YELLOW HORNS" "HE HAD ONE FRIEND LEFT, LITTLE WIENERWURST" "THE TIGER LOOKED AT ALL THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE WINDOWS AND DOORS" "THE TOYMAN SAW MARMADUKE WAY UP ON THE BACK OF THE BIG ELEPHANT" "QUICK AS A FLASH THE BIG DOG JUMPED AT LITTLE WIENERWURST" "HE WASN'T AFRAID OF ANYTHING WHEN HE WAS SAFE IN THE TOYMAN'S ARMS" FIRST NIGHT THE THREE HAPPY CHILDREN Not once upon a time but just now, in a white house by the side of a road, live three happy children. Their mother and father gave them very odd names, for two old uncles and one aunt, which pleased the old people very much. Their names are all written in the big family Bible,—Jehosophat Green, Marmaduke Green, and Hepzebiah Green. Jehosophat is just seven years old. His birthday comes on Thanksgiving Day this year. It does not come on Thanksgiving Day every year, of course. See if you can guess why. Marmaduke is five, "going on six," he always says. Little Hepzebiah, who toddles after her brothers, tells everyone who comes to visit that she is "half-past three." She heard her brother say this once and she imitates all he does and says. Perhaps that is why her father calls her a "little monkey." These happy children all live in the country. They do not know much about elevated trains and subways and automobiles and moving pictures but they do know a great deal about flowers and birds and chestnuts and picnics and lots of things which you would like too, if you lived in the country. Each place you see has its advantages. All good is not found in the country, nor all in the city. If we keep both eyes open we will see lots of enjoyable and beautiful things wherever we are. The house in which Jehosophat and Marmaduke and Hepzebiah live is large. It has many rooms to sleep in and eat in and play in. It is painted white and has wide windows with green blinds. Around the house are large trees. The branches seem to pat the house lovingly and to protect the children when the sun is too hot or the rain comes down too fast. They are fine for swings and bird-houses, these trees, and some throw down acorns and others cones and soft pine needles for the children to play with. Behind the house and gardens are red barns, chicken yards—and oh lots of animals,—the three dogs, Rover, Brownie, and little yellow Wienerwurst and all the rest. You will come to know them later. Each has his funny ways and queer tricks just like people. Around the house are fields with growing plants and oh—we almost forgot the pond where Jehosophat and his brother sail boats. Mother, that is Mrs. Green, is not too thin nor yet too plump. She is just what a mother ought to be, with kind, shining eyes, and soft cheeks. She is always cooking things or doing things for Jehosophat and Marmaduke and little Hepzebiah. Father—the neighbours call him Neighbour Green—is very strong. He can lift big weights and manage bad horses. He can do lots of work and yet somehow he finds time to do things for the children too. His eyes are blue, while mother's are brown. When he laughs, Marmaduke thinks it sounds like the church-bells on Sunday. Once he had a moustache but that went when mother said he would look younger without it. Now sometimes, when he works hard, he does not have time to shave every day. On Sunday mornings Hepzebiah loves to watch him take the brush and cup. The cup has flowers painted on it. When he turns the brush in the cup it makes something like whipped cream, or the top of mother's lemon pies. And after he takes it off with the razor his face is red and shiny and smooth. Hepzebiah always likes to kiss her father, but she likes to kiss him best on Sunday mornings. Tonight you have met all the family so we must stop for the clock says "after seven." Tomorrow we will meet all the animals and they are really part of the family too. SECOND NIGHT THE PLAYMATES OF THE THREE HAPPY CHILDREN The three happy children have many playmates, who live in the barnyard. Some have four feet and some only two, but these have two wings besides to make up for the missing feet. Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah like the dogs best. And just as there are three children so there are three dogs. Let's shake hands with them, one by one. The great big dog is named Rover, the middle-sized one Brownie, and the little yellow curly one Wienerwurst. A wise fellow is Rover. From a cold country called Newfoundland his great grandfather came. And he seems to think life is a very serious matter. His coat is black with snow-white patches. His hair curls a little. It feels very soft when you lay your head against it. He doesn't play as much as the other two doggies. But once when Hepzebiah fell in the pond after her doll, Rover swam in and caught her dress in his mouth and brought her to shore. Not long after that Mr. Green gave him a new shiny collar. Brownie is a terrier and is coloured like his name. He is a frisky dog and often chases the horses and buggies that go up and down the road in front of the house. Sometimes the drivers lash at him with their long whips but he is too quick for them and scampers out of their reach. The funniest doggie in all the world is little yellow Wienerwurst. He is even more full of mischief than Brownie and loves to run after all the other animals in the barnyard. When the pigeons fly down from their little house on the top of the barn to take an afternoon walk and perhaps pick up a few extra grains of corn, this little yellow doggie spoils all their fun. He soon sends them flying back to their house on the roof, where they chatter and coo in great excitement. But they do not lose their tempers like "Mr. Stuckup," the turkey, or old "Miss Crosspatch," the guinea-hen with the ugly voice. Once little Wienerwurst caught a pretty pigeon by its tail and bit it. Then Mr. Green took him over his knee, just as he did Jehosophat when he threw a stone at the window, and spanked little Wienerwurst. Each dog has a house. One is big, one middle-sized, and one small, and each has a door to fit the doggie who lives there. Their houses are called kennels, and they are something like the pigeon's home way up on the roof. The pigeons are very pretty, grey and white and pink coloured. When the sun shines brightly their necks shine too, like the rainbow silk dress which Mrs. Green wears whenever there is a wedding. One pair of the pigeons sit a great deal of the time on the ridge-pole of the barn and swell out their chests like proud, fat policemen. Farmer Green calls them pouter pigeons. They do not have harsh voices like the guinea-hen or the old black crows which steal the corn from the field when Mr. Scarecrow gets tired and goes to sleep. (We will introduce you to Mr. Scarecrow some evening very soon.) But the voices of the pigeons are soft and low like mother's, especially when Hepzebiah is sick and she sings her to sleep. They will not have much to do with the chickens, these pigeons. Perhaps they are like the people who live on the top floor of tall city houses and do not go down often to talk with the people in the streets. What a lot of chickens Farmer Green has! Almost two hundred, if they would ever stay still long enough for Jehosophat to count them. They are called White Wyandottes and they are very white and plump, with combs as red as geraniums. You know there are many kinds of chickens just as there are many kinds of people, English, French, and Americans. Rhode Island Reds, Plymouth Rocks, Cochins, and Leghorns are some of the chicken family names, but Jehosophat's father does not believe in mixing families, he says, so only the White Wyandottes live on the Green farm. Jehosophat and Marmaduke love the big rooster best. The red comb on the top of his head has teeth like a carpenter's saw, and is so large it will not stand up straight. His white tail curves beautifully like the plumes on the hats of the circus ladies. When he throws back his head, puffs out his throat, and calls to the Sun, he is indeed a wonderful creature. The little chicks are the ones Hepzebiah loves best. She can hold them in her two hands like little soft yellow balls or the powder puffs which Nurse uses on new little babies. The little chicks have such tiny voices, crying "cheep, cheep, cheep," almost the way the crickets do all through the night. The chickens have cousins who—but there goes the clock—so that is tomorrow night's story. THIRD NIGHT NOISY FOLKS Do you remember what we were telling about last night when that little tongue told us to stop? The little tongue in the Clock-with-the-Wise-Face on the mantel? Oh yes, the first cousins of the chickens who lived in the yard of the three happy children. Their first cousins are called ducks. Most of them are white but a few are black. Their coats are very smooth, and the skin under them sends out little drops of oil like drops of perspiration. This keeps the water and the rain from wetting the ducks through and through. You have heard people say sometimes: "The way water runs off a duck's back." Well, now you know the reason why. In rainy weather Hepzebiah wears a blue waterproof with a little hood but the ducks do not need anything like that. Their everyday coats of white and black are just as good. If the White Wyandottes cannot get under the chicken coop or the barn quick enough when it rains, their feathers are all mussed up but the ducks seem always dressed in their best. Their bills are different from their relatives'. They are not short and pointed like the chicken's but broad and long. And they have what are called web feet. Between the toes are pieces of skin, thick and tough like canvas. These web feet are like small oars or paddles. With them they can push against the water of the pond and swim quite fast. The ducks are very fond of the pond but their cousins think it a dreadful place. "Cluck, cluck," say the White Wyandottes, "what a foolish way of spending your time, sailing on the water when there are fat, brown worms to dig for in the nice earth!" You see animals, like people, like different things. The world wouldn't be half so interesting if we all liked the same things, would it? The other night Jehosophat felt very foolish when he came in to supper. His mother looked behind his ears and said: "Why you are just as afraid of the water as the chickens." Did you ever hear of such a thing! Now the chickens have second cousins too. Their second cousins are the white geese. They live on the other side of the tall fence that looks as if it were made of crocheted wire. Sometimes Jehosophat's father opens the gate in the fence and lets the geese wander down to the pond. A silly way they have of stretching out their long white necks and crying, "Hiss, hiss!" This frightens Hepzebiah who always runs away. Then the geese waddle along in single file, that is one by one, like fat old ladies crossing a muddy street on their way to sewing society. Jehosophat says that the chickens have third cousins too,—the swans. There they are, way out on the pond, sailing along like white ships. Their necks are very long and snowy white and they bend in such a pretty way. And their soft white wings look something like the wings of the angels on the Christmas cards. Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah do not like one barnyard neighbour very much. It is the guinea-hen. She has a grey body, plump as a sack of meal, with little white speckles, a funny neck and such a small head with a tuft on top. She screeches horribly and Marmaduke calls her "Miss Crosspatch." But the turkey with his proud walk is just funny. And yet Farmer Green says he hasn't any sense of humour. Ask your father how that can be if he is funny. "Mr. Stuckup" the children call the turkey. He walks along slowly, swinging from side to side. His feathers are brownish-black or bronze, and his tail often spreads out like a fan. He has the funniest nose. It is red and soft and long and flops over his bill on his chest. He calls "gobble, gobble, gobble," all the time, yet he does not gobble as much as the busy White Wyandottes all around him who are forever looking for kernels of corn or worms or bugs. But who is this magnificent creature coming along over the lawn under the cherry-tree? Uncle Roger, who sails around the world in a great ship with white sails, gave him to the children. He brought him from a land very far across the seas. He is the peacock and is all green and gold and blue. On his head is a little crown of feathers. His tail, too, can spread out like a fan the way "Mr. Stuckup's," the turkey's, does. But it is ever so much more beautiful. It is green and has hundreds of blue eyes in it. The three children call him the "Party Bird" for he is always so dressed up, but their father says he is "a bit of a snob." He means that he is vain and will not have much to do with his plainer neighbours of the barnyard— "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." There goes the clock again. Tomorrow night, if you are good all day, we will tell you about the rest of the barnyard friends of the three happy children. Then the next night, about the exciting things that happened to them. Good-night! Sweet Dreams! FOURTH NIGHT JUST BEFORE SUPPER In the afternoon the sun grows tired of his hot walk across the sky. Beyond the Green farm are the blue hills behind which he sleeps each night. When he is almost there the three happy children go down to the barn to watch their four-footed friends come home. Sometimes Frank, the hired man who helps Farmer Green, is late and does not go for the cows. All day long they have been in pasture. Sometimes they eat the grass and pink clover. Sometimes they wade in the little brook which flows there. But when it grows late, even if Frank does not come, they know it is supper time and leave the pasture. When they reach the barnyard fence they stand outside calling to be let in. Then Frank comes and lets down the bars. They walk into the yard and through the doors into the big red barn. There are ten cows but Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah love four of them better than the rest. Their names are "Primrose," "Daisy," "Buttercup," and "Black-eyed Susan." Now just as there are different kinds of chickens so there are several kinds of cows—Guernseys, Jerseys, Alderneys, and Holsteins. "Primrose," "Daisy," and "Buttercup" are Jerseys and are a pretty brown. "Black-eyed Susan" belongs to the Holsteins and is black and white. "Black-eyed Susan" gives more milk than her companions but their milk has richer cream. Each cow has a stall to sleep in. In front of each is a box or manger. Frank climbs up the tall ladder to the loft, which is the second story of the barn, and throws down the hay. Then he takes his sharp pitchfork and tosses a lot of hay in each manger. You would never think cows could eat so much. One box of shredded-wheat would do for all the Green family and visitors too, but "Primrose" and "Daisy" and all the rest each eat enough hay to fill many shredded- wheat boxes. Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah love to stand in the doorway of the barn and smell the hay as the cows chew it. It is very sweet smelling. They do not go too near the stalls, for while the cows are eating their supper, they switch their tails to keep off the flies. Once "Black-eyed Susan" switched her tail across Marmaduke's face. It felt like a whip and he ran away crying. But "Susan" didn't mean it for she is a very gentle cow. And once Jehosophat came too near old "Crumplety Horn," the white cow with the twisted horn. She kicked at Jehosophat and over went the pail of milk which his father had almost full. The children like to see their father and Frank sit on their three-legged stools in the stalls and milk the cows. The milk spurts into the pails and it sounds very pleasant. The milk is very warm when it comes from the cows so Farmer Green puts it in great cans as tall as Jehosophat. Then he carries the cans to the spring-house where it is cool, and leaves them overnight by the well. The children will drink some of it in the morning. Tonight they will drink this morning's milk, which is cool now. About the time the cows come home the horses come back too. First comes "Hal" the red roan. A red roan is a horse that is red-coloured, sprinkled with little grey hairs. Then there is "Chestnut" who is called that because he is coloured like chestnuts when they are ripe in the fall, and "Teddy," the buckskin horse. He is tan-coloured and has a black stripe on his backbone. Farmer Green got him from the West. There is a little mark called a brand on his flank which tells that. "Old Methuselah" and "White Boots" do not do much work now. "Old Methuselah" is all white. He was pretty old when Farmer Green bought him so he was nicknamed for the oldest man in the Bible. "White Boots" is a bay mare. That means a red-brown mother horse. She has four white feet. By her side runs a little black colt with funny legs. Jehosophat gave him his name, "Black Prince." "Hal" and "Teddy" and "Chestnut" are very tired for they have been pulling the plough, the wagon, or doing some farm work all day. Very glad they are to get their heavy leather collars and harness off and rest in the cool barn. They have hay to eat but they have been working hard so they have oats besides. Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah eat oats too but theirs are flattened out and cooked. We call it oatmeal. The oats for the horses are not flat but round like little seeds, and are not cooked on any stove. Farmer Green cuts the stalks in the oat field. Then he takes them to the threshing- machine, which knocks the little oats off the stalks. Then they are put in bags to keep for the horses. But the little black colt with the funny long legs does not eat them. He gets milk from his mother. He is just a baby horse, you see, but when he gets bigger he will have oats and hay too. Now all the animals are busy eating, the pigs with their curly tails, the sheep, the lambs, the cows, the little calves, the horses, and the colt with the funny legs. It is time for the three happy children to have their supper so they run back to the house. Soon, very soon, they will be fast asleep in Slumberland, which is where the Little-Clock-with-the-Wise- Face says you should be now. Good-night. FIFTH NIGHT THE TOYMAN Farmer Green has a man who helps him plough, feed the cows and horses, and with all the work on the farm. His name is Frank, but Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah call him "the Toyman." Winter nights around the fire he makes wonderful toys for them. His knife is like a fairy's wand. With it he whittles boats for Jehosophat, kites for Marmaduke, and dolls for Hepzebiah. He paints them pretty colours too. So I think they gave him the right sort of nickname when they called him "the Toyman." He hasn't many clothes and no house of his own and no relatives of any sort. He isn't exactly a handsome man. But the three happy children love the Toyman very much. Yesterday he sat by the edge of the pond. On one side sat Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and big Rover. On the other side sat Hepzebiah, Brownie, and little yellow Wienerwurst. They were all looking down at the water of the pond. It was very clear. "Keep still, Wienerwurst," said the Toyman, "or you will scare the fishes." They were swimming through the waters. Near the banks were little baby fishes, hundreds of them, called minnows. They had a nickname too, "minnies." Out farther, once in a while, the children saw a fish shining like gold. It was a sunfish or "sunny" as they sometimes called it. And the Toyman told them all about these fishes and the perch, too, and the long pickerel and the wicked carp, who hunts the other fish and kills them. Then all at once the Toyman put his hands in his pockets. Mother Green says his pockets are like ten-cent stores. They are so full of all sorts of things. The three children watched him closely. First came a piece of wood with a fishline wound around it. Then with his knife he cut three poles and near the top of each a little notch. The fishlines were tied around the poles. At the other end he put little curved fish-hooks, and about two feet above them little pieces of lead, called "sinkers." The sinkers were to keep the hooks near the bottom of the pond where the fish stay most of the time. Then from his pockets the Toyman took three pretty things which he had made the night before. They were whittled of wood and shaped like lemons with sharper points. The red and blue one was tied on Jehosophat's line, the red and yellow one on Marmaduke's, and the blue and yellow on little Hepzebiah's. "What are those pretty things?" asked Marmaduke. "Floaters," the Toyman answered. "Watch and you will see what we do with them." "Now you keep still, you Wienerwurst, or we will put you back in the kennel," called the Toyman to the little yellow dog, who felt very frisky and wanted to bark all the time. By the feet of the Toyman was a tin can. He put in his hand and pulled out a worm. This was put on Jehosophat's hook, another on Marmaduke's, and another on Hepzebiah's. Then the Toyman threw the three hooks in the water. The two boys held their poles tight but the Toyman had to help little Hepzebiah hold her pole, for her hands were too small. "Now quiet, everybody!" said the Toyman once more and they all sat watching the red and blue, the yellow and blue, and the red and yellow floaters out on the water. "When the floater goes under, you will know that a fish is biting at the worm on the hook." The Toyman had no sooner said this than he called out loud: "Watch 'er!" The red and yellow floater was pulled way under the water. The string on Marmaduke's pole tightened and the pole bent. Three times the floater went under the water. Then Marmaduke threw his pole back quickly and the hook came out of the water. On it something wriggled. The thing fell plop into Hepzebiah's lap. She screamed while it flopped there. It was a little bigger than the Toyman's hand and round and flat and shiny red and gold. No, it was not a goldfish. It was a sunfish. After the Toyman had taken the sunfish from the hook and put another worm on it, he threw the line back into the water. Then all the three children and the two dogs sat watching the little rings in the water around the floaters. Sometimes farther out they saw larger rings, and a fish feeling pretty happy, because of the cool September weather, would jump out of the water and turn a somersault through the air. Then all of a sudden the blue and yellow floater went under and little Hepzebiah caught a sunfish, too. Jehosophat felt disappointed because he was the oldest and hadn't caught any fish at all. But the afternoon was not gone when he felt a big tug at his line. It took him a long time to pull that fish in. When the hook came out of the water a long wriggly thing was on it. "Oo, oo, it's a snake," screamed little Hepzebiah. "No, it's only an eel," said the Toyman, "he won't hurt you." But he had to take it off Jehosophat's hook himself, the eel was so slippery and wriggled so. Before the sun went down, the children had each caught two fish. There were three sunfish, two perch, and the wriggly eel. The Toyman cleaned them all. And Mother fried them with butter and flour in a pan. It was a good supper they had that night, for they had caught it themselves. When supper was over three little heads were nodding and soon the three happy children were taking a little sail way on into Dreamland. That is a beautiful place where you would like to go too. So you had better follow them quickly. Perhaps you can catch up with them. Good-night. SIXTH NIGHT THE WILLOW WHISTLE The Toyman sat by the pond under the "Crying Tree." That is what Marmaduke calls it, though the Toyman says it is a weeping willow. It's leaves are a very pretty green, much lighter than the leaves of the other trees. And the branches bend over till they reach the water. They really do look like showers of tears. Sometimes little leaves fall into the water and float away like silver-green boats, rowed by tiny fairies. Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah came up to the "Crying Tree." "What are you doing, Toyman," asked Marmaduke. "Watch and you will see." They were always asking him that question and he was always telling them to watch and see. So they did. In his hand he had his knife, which could make as many things as a fairy's wand. It had four blades and a corkscrew. The Toyman cut some thin branches from the tree. From these he cut three pieces, each about as long as his first finger and about as thick as his little finger. One end of each piece of wood he cut like the stern of a boat, then he cut a notch near the end. Then he worked with his knife very carefully. Soon the green bark came off each little piece of wood. The bark came off whole, like a little roll of green paper. "See," said the Toyman, "the bark is the skin of the tree and in spring the sap which is the blood of the tree flows fast. It isn't coloured red, it is just like light juice, but it makes the bark slip off this wood very easily." On the grass he laid the round pieces of green bark. Then he took the white bits of wood which had been under the bark and he whittled away at the ends. Soon he was through. Then he slipped the pieces of bark, which looked so much like little rolled-up green papers, back on the white pieces of wood. They fitted perfectly. One he gave to Jehosophat, one to Marmaduke, and one to Hepzebiah. "What are they?" asked Marmaduke. "I know," said his brother Jehosophat, "they are whistles." "Yes," said the Toyman. "They are willow whistles. Now put them in your mouths and blow." Each put the end of his whistle in his mouth and blew. It sounded very pretty, the three whistles—and then—what do you think? Not far from the weeping willow or the "Crying Tree," was an elm tree. It was taller than the willow and darker green. In it something shone very bright—like an orange, only it moved. "It's an oriole," said the Toyman. They looked hard and, sure enough, there among the leaves was the prettiest bird they had ever seen. He had an orange-coloured body and black wings. His nest was on the end of a branch. It was grey-coloured and hung low like a little bag, made of knitted grey wool. Father and Mother Oriole had made it themselves. Mother Oriole is there sitting in it on little eggs. But Father Oriole heard the three willow whistles and he turned and began to whistle back—oh such a pretty song. It was really prettier than the sound of the three willow whistles for it had different notes and a tune like the songs Mother plays on the piano. "We must watch that nest," said the Toyman. "Some day soon we will see the baby orioles." But there—the Little-Clock-with-the-Wise-Face is scolding again. So the story must stop for tonight. When you're asleep if you listen very hard, maybe you can hear the three happy children blowing the willow whistles, and maybe the beautiful oriole will answer back. Good-night. SEVENTH NIGHT MR. SCARECROW Under the big oak by the brook sat the three happy children with Rover, Brownie, and little yellow Wienerwurst. They were watching the Toyman cut the ripe corn. "Isn't that funny?" said Jehosophat. "What's funny?" asked Marmaduke. "Wot's funny?" repeated Hepzebiah. "Oh! I was just thinking," said Jehosophat, "how he seems just Frank when he's ploughing or harrowing or cutting the corn. But when he's through work and tells us stories or makes us things, why then he is the Toyman." "Yes," his brother agreed. "He looks as if some fairy godmother changed him nights and Sundays." But they were rudely interrupted. "Caw, caw!" said a voice. It was a rascal's voice. "Caw, caw!" said another. The Toyman jumped. He shook his fist. "You old thief!" he called. "Rogue, rogue, rogue!" growled Rover in his deep voice. "Run, run, run!" barked Brownie. "Rough, rough—rough, rough!" said little Wienerwurst in his funny voice. "There he is," said the Toyman, "Mr. Jim Crow and all his wicked chums. See there!" All the children looked in the direction in which his finger pointed. Over in the far corner of the field a flock of crows flew up from the waving corn. A white horse, drawing a buggy, was trotting along the road by the side of the cornfield. The driver had scared Mr. Jim Crow and all his chums. They flapped their big black wings as they flew. And they flew very straight, not like the pretty barn-swallows with their dark-blue wings. The swallow is a happy bird and skims and dances in the air like a fancy skater on the ice. But Mr. Jim Crow flies like an arrow. That is because he is always up to some mischief and forever running away when someone finds him out. "Caw, caw!" he called. "Caw, caw!" called all his black mates. The Toyman ran to the fence and picked up a shotgun. It had two barrels that shone in the sun. "Bang, bang!" went the gun. One black spot dropped to the earth like a stone. The Toyman ran out in the cornfield. He bent over until his straw hat was hidden by the waving corn. Soon he came back. From his hand Mr. Jim Crow hung head downward. He was very still. "Oo, oo! You've hurted him!" Little Hepzebiah began to cry. "Don't cry," said the Toyman, patting her head. "Mr. Jim Crow was a bad fellow. You couldn't teach him any lessons." "What did he do?" Marmaduke asked. "He stole all the corn and you wouldn't have any nice muffins if he had had his way. I never shoot the orioles or the robins or the swallows or any of the birds with consciences." "What is a conscience?" "Oh a little clock inside you, like the Clock-with-the-Wise-Face-on-the-Mantel. It tells you when it is time to stop," explained their friend. And Jehosophat and Marmaduke looked as if they knew just what he meant. But Hepzebiah was too little yet to understand. "See, Mr. Jim Crow is long and black. He has a bad eye." So he buried Mr. Jim Crow under the oak tree while the children watched. After that the Toyman said: "I reckon Mr. Scarecrow has fainted." "Who's Mr. Scarecrow?" asked the three happy children. "Is he Mr. Jim Crow's cousin?" "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the Toyman. "That is a good one. No, Mr. Scarecrow is the policeman of the cornfield. Let's go over and set him on his pins again." So again he walked through the rows between the cornstalks and they came to a little clear place in the middle of the field. There, flat on his back, lay Mr. Scarecrow. He too looked as if he were dead. But he was not. For his body was only two sticks of wood nailed together like a cross. He was dressed in Father Green's old blue trousers and the Toyman's old black coat. His arms were outstretched. But he had lost his hat. His wooden head stuck out. The Toyman picked him up and stood him straight on his one wooden leg. Then he put the old felt hat on his hard head. "There, old wooden top," the Toyman spoke to him sternly. "Don't leave your beat." But Marmaduke was puzzled. "How could he scare Mr. Jim Crow away like a policeman? He can't run with that wooden leg." "Silly," said Jehosophat, for he was older than Marmaduke and knew Mr. Scarecrow very well. "Ha, ha, ha, that's another good one," said the Toyman. "Of course he can't run. But when all the Crows see him standing up in the cornfield they think he is a real man. They are afraid Mr. Scarecrow will shoot. For they know that things that wear coats and hats often have guns. And guns have killed their chums. So they do not come very near when Mr. Scarecrow is around." "Caw, caw!" sounded the old rascals again. But the crows were far away. The three happy children could see them way up in the old chestnut tree over on the edge of their neighbour's wood. In the fork of two high branches was a great round nest—oh ever so much bigger than the thrush's and the oriole's. It was a crow's nest. Sailors often call the little turret built around the mast, where they stand and look out over the sea, a "crow's nest." It looks something like that. But Mr. Jim Crow's chums didn't come near the cornfield that day. At night, when they were ready for bed, Jehosophat said to Marmaduke: "I wonder if old Mr. Scarecrow is out there now." "Course he is," his brother assured him. "Let's see!" So they jumped out of bed and, in their white nightgowns, tiptoed over the floor to the window. The Old-Man-in- the-Moon was up. He looked as round and fat as a pumpkin in the sky. He winked at them. The Old-Man-in-the-Moon made it very bright so that they could see. Sure enough, way out in the cornfield stood Mr. Scarecrow. His hat and coat were on and he was standing up like a man, very straight and still. His arms were outstretched to tell Mr. Jim Crow's chums that he was ready for them. But though they are thieves, the Black Crows are not night burglars and they were fast asleep in the nests in the wood. The Man-in-the-Moon winked at them three times, once with his right eye, once with his left eye, then again with the right. And the three happy children thought they heard him say three times: "Back to bed, back to bed, back to bed!" Then they heard the sound of bells. Seven times they sounded. It was from the church over in the town,—the big white church with the long finger pointing at the sky. And the Little-Clock-with-the-Wise-Face-on-the-Mantel, answered back. So they obeyed the old yellow Man-in-the-Moon and scampered like little white mice back to bed. EIGHTH NIGHT THE PRETTIEST FAIRY STORY IN THE WORLD "Tell me a story—a fairy story," said Jehosophat to his Mother. The three happy children loved really true stories and fairy stories too. Sometimes they wanted one, sometimes the other. Sometimes the Toyman mixed his stories up so it was hard to tell which they were. This morning it was spring. The sun was warm and Jehosophat felt very lazy. "No," said Mother. "I have too much work to do. But if you will help me dry the dishes I won't tell you but I'll show you one of the prettiest fairy stories in the world." "It is true too," she added. "Mother, how can that be," said Marmaduke. "A fairy story that is a true story?" "Just be patient," she replied, "and you will see." So the boys took the dish towels and helped dry the dishes, without any accidents. But little Hepzebiah was too small, so she sat on the floor with her finger in her mouth and watched them. "Come," said Mother Green when they were through. Out in the vegetable garden, back of the raspberries they went. "See there," said Mother. Three square little garden plots with nice brown earth were waiting for seeds. "Father dug them for you—one for Jehosophat, one for Marmaduke, and one for Hepzebiah." The three happy children couldn't help but think that was fine. Just then along came Father. His arms were full. He had three little rakes, three little hoes, and three little spades. The three happy children did not need to ask whom they were for. "But where's the fairy story, Mother?" "That you will make," she said. "The jolly old Sun, the gentle Rain, and brown Mother Earth will help you." Jehosophat laughed. "Oh! I see now. But we can't finish that fairy story all in one day." "No, it takes time and it takes work. But it's a prettier story than any in books. And you can make it come true yourselves." Then Marmaduke piped up: "What do we do first?" "Well," his Mother explained, "your Father has dug the ground for you. You must rake it first, make it smooth and even. Mind, no hard lumps now!" So the three happy children set to work with their three shiny rakes. Father had to help Hepzebiah, of course. Then when the earth was smooth and fine, like brown powder, they made little furrows or lines in the earth. In other parts of the little gardens they scooped out tiny holes with their hoes. Out of his pockets Father took some square envelopes. On them were printed pretty flowers and ripe vegetables. "There," said Mother, "are the pictures of the end of the fairy story. But you'll never know the end unless you try hard." Father tore open the envelopes and sowed the seeds in Hepzebiah's garden, some in the little holes, some in the furrows. Then he let the two boys sow their own gardens. After the envelopes were all empty and the seeds all scattered they covered them over with the fine brown soil. "The little seeds must sleep for a while," said their Mother, "like babies in a big brown bed." So every day the three children watched. And the Sun shone and sometimes the gentle Rain came. They did not feel sad when she was weeping, for Mother told them she was a fairy too, not so jolly as the Sun but gentle and kind. Jolly Sun, gentle Rain, and Mother Earth—they were all fairies whom God had sent to help make the story come true. Sometimes it was hard to finish breakfast, they were so anxious to see what had happened in the little gardens during the night. Sometimes they even forgot to ask Mother to "please excuse" them and they had to be called back to the table, for that was very impolite. At last one wonderful morning, as they stood around the flower beds, Jehosophat said: "There's Chapter Two!" "What's that?" asked Marmaduke who didn't quite understand. "Oh, just another step in the fairy tale." "Where?" He pointed to one of the gardens. From the brown earth a little green head poked out. Little Hepzebiah danced for it was in her garden, and toddled off to tell Mother. Next day there were five more little heads, some in each of the gardens. They were light in colour and seemed weak but somehow the jolly old Sun and brown Mother Earth took care of them as parents take care of babies. And sometimes the gentle Rain came to water them with her tears. So they grew strong and soon the gardens were covered with an army of sturdy little green spears. "It looks like a brown pincushion with green needles and pins," said Jehosophat. And the weeks passed and still the three good fairies worked hard over them to help them live and grow up to be real vegetables and flowers. They worked away very quietly, these three good fairies, as all good people work, without any noise, without any fuss. One day Farmer Green came back from a visit to the town. With him he brought three green watering-pots. "You must do some more work, yourselves," he told them as he handed each one of the shiny green cans. "You must water them when the Rain fairy is tired, pull up the bad weeds that steal the food Mother Earth keeps for the flowers, and you must keep the soil loose around the roots, so that the drops can sink way down deep. The more work you do the better you will like your flowers when they do come. And the taller and prettier they will be." So the little green stalks grew tall and strong. Then the little buds came. And one by one the buds opened into flowers. And the flowers had on their petals all the colours of the rainbow in the sky. And the children took turns filling the vase on the supper table. They were very proud of their flowers when their father leaned over and smelled them. "My, how sweet they smell!" he would say every time. "I don't think I ever saw such flowers." And when their vegetables came to the table—round plump red radishes, crisp curling lettuce leaves, juicy tomatoes, and rows of peas in the pod, like the little toes of the neighbour's baby, Father Green would say: "I never did eat such vegetables!" Then he would smile over at Mother. And Marmaduke, after his turn one night, whispered to his mother— "It was a pretty fairy story, Mother. And we made it come true ourselves." "Yes, with the help of God and His fairies—the jolly Sun, the gentle Rain, and brown Mother Earth. But the best part of it all is that your own hands helped." But the Little-Clock-with-the-Wise-Face-on-the-Mantle thought that the children understood now. So he stopped this advice with his silver tongue. And Mother, too, agreed that it was late. So she kissed them good-night and tucked them under the coverlids as they had covered the tiny seeds in their brown beds. NINTH NIGHT ANOTHER TRUE FAIRY STORY Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah were very happy as they watched the fairy story of the flowers. They were happier still because they helped it grow. But of course that did not take all of their time. So one morning when Marmaduke had eaten up all of his oatmeal and the cream, which Buttercup had given him, he laid his spoon down and said: "Won't you show us another story, 'cause we can't watch our gardens all day long?" "Yes," said Mother, "let me think what it will be." So Mother thought awhile. "I'll get Mother Nature to show you another story. But you can't help with this one. You'll just have to watch. It's made by the birds themselves." Then she looked at the calendar. "Why, it's the fourteenth of May. He ought to be here pretty soon." "Who ought to be here soon?" asked Jehosophat. "Why, the Oriole, the Baltimore Oriole, on his way back from the South, where he lives all winter." "How do you know he'll come soon?" the three children asked, all in the same breath. "He always comes back about the middle of May. City folks call May first 'Moving Day,' but the fifteenth is the Oriole's Moving Day." So Mother led them out of the front door. "Just sit in that swing or play with the pine needles and watch that elm. Don't make too much noise now! Maybe he'll come today." And the children played in the front of the house all the morning and looked up at the dark green leaves of the elm every once in a while. But no bright little bird messenger came. They were very much disappointed but Mother said: "Never mind, tomorrow is his Moving Day and I think he'll come then. He is usually pretty prompt." That night Uncle Roger came to the house with Aunt Mehitable. As a special treat the children were allowed to stay up late and hear Uncle Roger's stories of the great sea. They stayed up very late, although the Little-Clock-with-the-Wise-Face-on-the-Mantle spoke several times. So next morning they were very tired. The sun was warm and while Jehosophat, Marmaduke and Hepzebiah sat on the porch they fell asleep. Jehosophat's head nodded against one post, Marmaduke's against another post, while little Hepzebiah fell asleep between them on the floor of the porch. "Wow, wow, wow," growled Rover, "let's go out in the barnyard and chase the White Wyandottes. It's no fun playing with sleepy children." "Wow, wow, wow!" answered Brownie and little Wienerwurst together, and this in dog's language means "Yes." So they romped away to the barnyard to chase the frightened White Wyandottes. That was not a good thing for the chickens but it was a good thing for the children. For if the dogs had not run