Part 15

JUNE 14: The Bicycle’s Joy

“I remember a story of my grandfather,” said the bicycle. “He was given as a surprise to a little girl by her brother. She didn’t know what she was going to have, only her brother told her she was going to have a great and enormous surprise. I think my grandfather has often told the story.

“The brother made up puzzles to help the sister guess what her surprise was going to be but she simply couldn’t guess anything so wonderful as a bicycle.

“The brother had saved up for ages and ages to give it to her—all paid for out of money he had earned himself.

“Well, when my grandfather was given to her, he said that the little girl just said, ‘Oh, brother,’ and put her arms around her brother’s neck and the tears came to her eyes for very joy of the great, great surprise.

“I was afraid such days had gone. But at last I was sold and I find there are lots of bicycles around and that children still do enjoy them.”

“Oh yes, indeed they do,” said the second bicycle.

“Oh,” said the first bicycle, “I am so joyous. My tires are full of joy and air. My bell rings merrily. Oh, I’m a happy, happy bicycle.

“Now I don’t care if children do love airships and automobiles and all sorts of modern toys and if they like kites because they fly so high in the air and are so lovely, for they still have room in their hearts for the loyal old bicycle friend.

“It’s a great joy to be a bicycle after all.”

JUNE 15: The Best Apple Tree of All

“Of all the trees in the orchard,” began daddy, “every spring this old apple tree I am going to tell you about had the most beautiful of blossoms. And when midsummer came the apples that came out on that tree had, somehow, a better taste than the apples from any other tree. And one day I found out the reason.

“I thought the hammock, which hung under the apple tree, looked very comfortable, and so I made myself most cozy and happy. It was not long before I dozed off into a nice little nap, and then I heard what the apple tree was saying to the little unripe apples on the boughs.

“‘You must grow to be fine and ripe, and you must keep all the little apple-seeds good and warm so they can be just as brown as brown can be. That will mean that little boys and little girls can eat all they want, for so long as the seeds are brown they can never do any harm. And, you apples, you must be very sure that you turn around and have the sun warm you and make you bright and red.’

“As the old apple tree was talking, I noticed that the apples just grew a little bit bigger, and redder and fatter, and looked as they were—oh, so juicy and wonderful inside. I was certain, too, that the little seeds were growing browner every minute.

“‘You see,’ he continued, ‘it’s such an honor for us. You know that on the day we’re ripe the fairy queen brings all the little fairies to admire us, and they sit on the boughs and wave about with us. And more than that—you know the apple that is ripe first goes to the fairy queen and then some more go to the little fairies.’

“The fairies are too kind to take away the apples that real people like to eat—and so the old apple tree has arranged to have a great many more that we can’t see—they’re called the apples of fairyland.

“And the tree still went on talking:

“‘I, too, am working hard. I am practising my best bow to make to the fairy queen when she arrives the first day all the apples are ripe. So she is to come very, very early in the morning while every one else is sleeping. And when the children get up and find the apples are ripe so quickly, won’t they be delighted!

“‘Now, get around so Mr. Sun will help you along. He’s the greatest help in the world to us—such a dear old soul.’

“Of course that flattered Mr. Sun so he helped still more, and just as I could feel him shining down with all his might—I woke up.

“I moved away from the apple tree then, for it was no longer shady; the sun had come around and told me to get up! But as I walked away and saw the apple tree waving around I knew it was practising for its bow and making the little apples hurry up and ripen.”

JUNE 16: An Elephant’s Wanderings

“There was once an elephant who got tired of the circus and wandered off one night when nobody was noticing,” commenced daddy.

“You see the circus was getting ready to go on to another village to give a performance and it was late at night. They never thought of an elephant getting away, but they hadn’t heard Jumbo telling the elephants of late how exceedingly tired he was of circus life and circus food and circus parades. He was not only tired of it all but he said he wanted to be a gentleman.

“The other elephants had asked him what a gentleman was, and this is what he told them:

“‘I heard two little boys talking of what they were going to be when they grew up,’ said Jumbo, ‘and one of them said he was going to be an engineer and build bridges. The other little boy had said he was going to be a gentleman and do nothing. The first boy thought he was quite wrong and very silly, but then and there I decided that it would be beautiful to do nothing.’

“The other elephants had asked Jumbo how an elephant could be a gentleman, any more than a gentleman could be an elephant, but Jumbo was determined to lead a lazy life. And you see neither Jumbo nor the little boy knew what being a gentleman really meant.

“So Jumbo escaped and the next morning Jumbo was in a barnyard, and as you will never be able to guess the friends he had chosen I’ll have to tell you. He was playing with a big brown dog, a mother hen and a whole lot of little chickens.

“Of course, he had to be very careful not to move so as to step on his new friends, for he knew it would be most impolite and not at all gentlemanly to step on a friend and crush him! But as he had wanted to stay quiet and do nothing he was very happy.

“The hen sat proudly on one of his ears, while the little chickens all sat on his head, and ran races up and down his marvelous trunk. The dog got up on his back and jumped off and on again and again. Meantime the elephant was sitting down in the barnyard looking very enormous and very much out of place.

“Soon the little girl, whose name was Betty, and who lived in the house beyond the barnyard came running out to give her pets their breakfast.

“At first Betty was somewhat frightened at seeing the big elephant, but then she felt that if the little chickens were so friendly with him, he must certainly be friendly.

“The elephant stayed some time with the animals of the barnyard and with Betty. But one morning bright and early she found Jumbo with an old ball and bat in his great trunk. He was practising baseball so he would not be put off the team when he got back to the circus for he had been planning for some time to return to his first friends.

“Well, this morning he had decided to leave. For late the night before he had heard the circus he belonged to arriving in the village where Betty lived.

“‘I’ve had a powerful good time,’ said Jumbo to Betty, ‘but I must be off. I haven’t done a thing for weeks and if this is what it means to be a gentleman I’d rather be an elephant—which, of course, is very easy for me to be—as I am one, don’t you see?’

“Now Betty didn’t understand what the elephant was really saying, but that afternoon when she went to the circus there she saw Jumbo in the baseball game, and doing all the tricks better than any other elephant. He was so delighted at having something to do again that though Betty missed him, still she was glad he was back where he was happiest.”

JUNE 17: The Story the Oak Tree Told

A soft breeze of early summer had been blowing all day. The leaves were looking so fresh and green and having a beautiful time in the warm sunshine.

“Well,” began daddy, “I must tell you the story the oak told to the other trees today.

“The other trees would sometimes sigh, ‘How nice!’ or something like that, but for the most part they let the oak tree do all the talking.

“It was a very young tree, but it looked as if some day it would be a fine big oak with spreading branches and great strong roots which nothing could shake.

“‘I was one day picked up as a little acorn by a small boy,’ said the tree.

“‘He carried me around in his pocket for days and days. I spent all my time sleeping, for his pocket was very dark and I could not stay awake in it.

“‘One day he happened to notice me especially. He wondered why he had been carrying me around for so long, for he himself couldn’t think of any reason why he should want me.

“‘And then he thought he would plant me. So he put me in the ground and covered me over carefully. He watched to see when I would come up. When first he saw me sprouting above the ground I thought he would go mad with delight, for he had really been very much worried about me. After having planted me he was very anxious that I should grow up right away. So he was a very happy little boy when he saw that I was really going to become a tree.

“‘Now he comes every day to look at me and has done so ever since I was born.

“‘You see it will make me a fine tree to have the pride of that little boy centered in me.

“‘And what is more, it will make him, I think, grow up to be a fine man, brave and strong like his tree, for that is what he calls me.

“‘So I feel that we will both help one another, and perhaps some day when he is an old man he will lead some little boy by the hand and will tell him of how he planted me and how he tried to grow up to be strong like his tree, and that will help the little boy, too.

“‘We trees can do a lot of good if we want to. Just think how nice it will sound to be called a fine old oak, and when we feel proud of ourselves we can think it is even better that we have helped little boys to be stronger too.’”

JUNE 18: The Weeds and the Flowers

“The Elves,” commenced daddy, “were playing in a garden one morning just at the break of day when all the flowers were opening their sleepy heads, and the ones which had not been sleeping were looking about them more brightly than ever.

“‘Good morning, Flowers,’ said the Elves. The flowers nodded their heads and smiled and waved about in the warm breeze. But the Elves heard some very strange sounds—not quite like the talk of the flowers—for to the Elves and Fairies, you know, there is a Flower language, and a Flower’s way of talking.

“‘What could these other sounds mean?’ they asked each other.

“‘We’ll tell you,’ said these voices. ‘We’re the Weeds. And some of us are beautiful, but all of us are strong. Yes, we’re so strong that no matter how they try to dig us up and throw us away we’re up again in no time. We’re little fighters—yes, we are. We have our Army headquarters. Indeed we do! And our Generals are very fine. They’re the great, tall Weeds you often see, and my, but it’s hard to get them out of the earth. If they are beaten more Generals take their places, for the motto of the Weeds is, “We’ll always be strong—there will always be Weeds.”

“And so they chatted on. The Elves were very much interested, but still they couldn’t quite see, when the Weeds were doing so much talking and bragging, how the flowers could smile so happily.

“So they whispered to the Flowers very gently:

“‘Tell us, Flowers, why are you so happy?’

“Then in lovely, soft rustling voices the Flowers said:

“‘We are going to have a Book written about us to-day. Yes, a real Book, and our pictures are going to be painted. We’re very proud and happy. We have a Mistress who comes out every morning and most of the day she is with us. She bends over us and digs up the earth around us so it is nice and soft and comfortable. And every evening after Mr. Sun has gone to bed she gives us cool drinks of water.

“‘It was only yesterday she told us that some Noble Grownup was going to write a Book about us and call it “The Ideal Garden.” We think that ideal means something like perfect—anyway it’s something extremely nice. And she has been making us ready for the Book. Oh, we’re very proud indeed.’ And then the queer sounds came again, and the Weeds spoke up:

“‘Yes, and we’re going to have a Chapter about us. We don’t quite understand yet what a Chapter is—but it’s a great deal—we’re sure of that. The Grownup told our Mistress that she was going to say something about pretty Weeds in a garden.’

“‘Well, we like you all—Flowers and Weeds,’ said the Elves.”

JUNE 19: The Insulted Flowers

“I do feel insulted,” said Mr. Orchid.

“It’s too absurd,” said Miss Lily of the Valley. For a lady was wearing a bunch of orchids and lilies of the valley and one of the orchids and one of the lilies of the valley were talking to each other. They felt very much hurt that they had been crushed and forced into such a great big bouquet to be worn, when a smaller one would have been so much prettier and nicer.

“Yes, we are being insulted,” said Mr. Orchid. “She doesn’t care one scrap for flowers. She just wants to look rich and so she bought us—and plenty of us, and that is what we call insulting.”

“It most certainly is,” said Miss Lily of the Valley. “No one who cared for flowers would wear as many as she is crushing together; no, indeed.”

JUNE 20: The Colored Bags

“Since Melly had been a little girl her Auntie had been very fond of her,” said daddy.

“One day Melly’s aunt was looking over a great box she had with pieces in it when Melly saw all the odd pieces of silk. ‘I wonder,’ said Melly’s Auntie, ‘if you would like to have me make you little bags, so you can carry your purse and your handkerchief in one when you go shopping, and your handkerchief and other odds and ends you carry around at other times in other bags? I could make you so many bags of so many different colors. Some, you see, could be yellow, some blue, some pink, some gray, some orange, some purple, some tan, some rose, some green, some white.’

“So that was the way Melly’s bags came about, and her Auntie on her birthday and Christmas always gave her a few new bags made from the old silk.

“How gay and pretty they were and how Melly loved them.

“Now one evening Melly had gone to sleep and the bags were talking.

“‘Ah,’ said the bag of pale blue, ‘I’m but a baby. I am only a few years old.’

“‘And I’m very old,’ said a little plaid bag. ‘I belonged to her grandmother!’

“‘Well,’ said a purple bag, ‘it does seem funny to see the world again. It’s nice to be young once more. Why, I was getting so used to the darkness of the piece box that I blinked, actually blinked—at least as much as a bag can blink—when I first got out again.’

“‘And isn’t it fun,’ said the green bag, ‘to see so many things? I went on a picnic yesterday, and a piece of bacon got into me in some way or other, a nice little crumby piece. Well, I did feel funny. I felt like a person having breakfast. I must say I didn’t eat it up—I’m not fond of eating—mostly because I’m without a mouth and a stomach, but it is fun to go to so many different places and to see what is going on in different places.’

“‘I’m so glad I was made,’ said the rose bag. ‘I’m going to a dancing party this afternoon. They’ll have ice-cream there and I’ll hear all the children play and laugh and I’ll hear them say, “Oh, Melly, which bag have you got with you to-day?” And then I will be shown.’

“‘We’re the lucky little pieces of silk who are seeing the world for a second time,’ ended the yellow bag.”

JUNE 21: A Spider’s Curiosity

“They may not think the spider is a curious creature, though again they may think so,” said Mr. Spider, “for I am sure I cannot keep track of what they think.

“But last summer I was attracted to a house which looked rather cool and comfortable and as though the people who lived in it had gone away and left the blinds down.

“Now when I say I was attracted to the house I mean that the house looked attractive to me and so I went there. I went in first through a crack under the door. I looked about me when I got inside and I thought to myself: ‘Dear me, I have the whole place to myself.’ But I found that a number of spider friends and cousins had come to the house too.

“‘Well,’ they said, upon seeing me, ‘have you come to this hotel to board? It’s really quite good. Meals are fine. We’ve found a number of delicious little creatures to nibble at.’

“‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’ve come to this hotel to board, but I won’t pay my board.’

“‘Oh, won’t you?’ said they.

“‘I will not,’ I answered. ‘I do not pay board. It’s a foolish thing to do, a waste of time, and besides I haven’t the money. I wouldn’t pay board for anything, for it spoils people.’

“Yes, they think they can do anything when they charge board. They can be rude and only give you so much of this and so much of that, and they have to watch over you to see that you don’t eat more than you are allowed. At least that is my idea of boarding, though I suppose for those who have plenty of money it is all right.

“But I have no money, none at all.”

“Neither have I,” said the spider who was listening.

“Therefore I cannot board,” said Mr. Spider.

“Well, as I was saying, my relatives and friends talked to me and when I said that I wouldn’t pay my board they said: ‘Oh, that is quite all right, Mr. Spider. None of us do. Besides, we feel sure the people who have gone away will be glad if they hear that some of the Spider family are watching over their house in their absence.’

“So I settled down, but after a time I began to feel as though I would like to be busy. Every one around me was working.

“And one day one of the other spiders said to me: ‘Mr. Spider, did you bring your work?’

“‘Yes indeed,’ I answered, ‘I have it here with me.’

“Then, of course, I thought I would choose a good spinning table or spinning chair, or some place where I would be comfortable and cozy a-spinning.

“Just as I was thinking about it I happened to take a look at a telephone upon a table.

“‘There will I go,’ I said to the others.

“‘But,’ they told me, ‘the telephone is a modern thing and spinning is an old, old thing to do.’

“‘Well,’ I answered, ‘I will mix the old and the new, I will work around the modern telephone. I will spin a web so when the people come back they will have to talk through Spiderland in order to talk to their friends.’”

JUNE 22: The Sun Dial

“I follow you so that people can tell the time by me,” said the sun-dial. “And how am I able to tell time for them? All owing to you. I depend upon you to help me tell the time, for you cast your shadow over me, and people know just the hour of the day it is. There is the sun-flower which is named after you,” continued the sun-dial. “It is so called because it is so bright and golden and it is big too!”

“That is so,” said the sun. “I am very fond of the sun-flower.”

“And think of all the flowers, like the marigold and the morning-glories, which open when you arise, and go to sleep, closing their eyes, when you go to bed.

“Then there is the sunfish, so named because he is round and fat and supposed to be slightly like the sun in shape.”

“I had never heard the reason for his name before,” said Mr. Sun. “Thanks for telling me.”

The sun-dial moved a little and so did Mr. Sun, for the time was going on.

“Then there is the sun-gem,” continued the sun-dial. “He is the humming-bird, you know, and he has such glorious bright colors that they have named him after you.”

“I never knew that before,” said Mr. Sun. “How very interesting. Pray go on.”

“There are the sun opals—beautiful stones—and sun perch—like the sunfish family. There are sun plants and sun ferns.”

“Indeed,” beamed the sun.

“And there are sun shades,” continued the sun-dial.

“Oh dear,” said the sun, “people use those to keep me out of their eyes, don’t they?”

“Yes, that is so,” said the sun-dial. “Dear me, I didn’t mean to say anything about sun-shades. And there is sun fever and sun stroke.”

“Oh dear, dear, dear,” said the sun, growing very red and angry. “They are horrible things people get when their heads ache and they feel quite miserable.”

The sun was very red and very mad now, and the sun-dial knew it had said too much. “I am so sorry,” said the sun-dial. “I grew a little careless in what I was saying.”

“Yes, you did,” agreed the sun. “But no matter; I shall sleep and forget about it now.”

And the big red sun went to bed behind the hill and the sun-dial said to itself it would never make such mistakes again!

JUNE 23: Shoes and Stockings

“It seems so funny,” said Mrs. Cow. “Really, the fuss that children make about going around without any shoes or stockings.

“I don’t mean they make a fuss about going without. Gracious, no, they love not to wear shoes and stockings.

“It’s very funny, though, the way they think it is such a treat to go without.

“Now, we never wear shoes and stockings. We think that would be ridiculous.

“We would never say to our mothers, ‘Oh, mother, can’t I please go without any shoes or stockings all afternoon?’

“No young cow or calf would say such a thing. But children are always asking if they can’t go without as a great treat. How funny they really are!”

JUNE 24: Mosquitoes and Snails

“Well, are you here again?” said the Snails to the Mosquitoes.

“We are indeed,” buzzed the Mosquitoes. “But you don’t say that as if you were pleased. In fact, we don’t like your manner at all. We think a little nip and a wee bite might help you. It might make you more polite.”

“Ah, there you are wrong,” said the Snails. “To be sure, our manner was not so very polite. But we don’t feel so polite toward your family. And as for teaching us manners with the aid of a little nip and a wee bite—well, that is absurd, as we have shells and we can go right back into them. We may be slow, but we can get into our shells quickly enough.”

“Yes, cowards,” hissed the Mosquitoes.

“Not at all,” said the Snails. “It’s not cowardly to avoid being bitten. It wouldn’t help any one if we were bitten. There would be no good done because of it. We simply do not wish to be bitten and give you a chance to say:

“‘We bit the Snails to-day. That was part of our pleasure.’ For it is a pleasure to you to bite, and we don’t intend to help along such selfish, mean, cross creatures.”

“Then why are you talking to us?” asked the Mosquitoes.

“Because,” said the Snails, “you have just missed a picnic party that went by here a little time ago. A nice picnic party of children. We won’t tell you where they went—no, indeed. And you’ve lost them now. We only talked to you because we wanted you to miss one horrid adventure. We wouldn’t have wasted our time otherwise. And we talked slowly to give the children more time.” The Snails wiggled and squirmed a little. They were very much pleased with themselves.

But, oh, how mad the mosquitoes were! They buzzed and sang their ugly little songs. They tried to bite the snails, but they had gone inside their shells.

They were so furious that they had wasted all that time. But the snails were happy! They knew that the children were far away by this time, and they had been saved from having the horrid, uninvited mosquitoes go along, too.

As the mosquitoes flew away they said: “Never again will we talk to those slow snails. They make us lose time.”

And the Snails were delighted that their slowness had helped.

JUNE 25: The Rose-Breasted Grosbeak

“The rose-breasted grosbeak,” said daddy, “is a very useful bird, and at the same time an extremely beautiful bird.

“Mr. Rose-Breasted Grosbeak wears black and white, with a handsome vest of rose color and under his wings he has the same decoration. Mrs. Grosbeak is not so handsome. She wears a brown frock, and looks not unlike her cousin, Mrs. Sparrow.