Part 18

“‘Ah, we’re happy,’ said the little butterflies, as they flew about in the warm summer sunshine.”

JULY 21: George and the Goblin

“A little boy named George,” said daddy, “was very ill. He had not told his mother he felt sick and wretched because he was afraid she might give him some horrid medicine, so he went to bed without saying a word.

“He felt as though he had been in bed for hours and as if he would never go to sleep when suddenly a little Goblin hopped on his window sill, peeped around the curtain, and said:

“‘Good evening. May I come in?’

“‘Who are you?’ asked George.

“‘I am the Goblin who looks after little sick boys—when they have your kind of sickness. The only trouble is that I can’t see half the little boys I want to—for I can only go at night-time when they’re sleeping, and there isn’t time for my rounds. I do believe I shall have to get some Assistant Workers,’ and the Goblin looked puzzled.

“‘You’re a Goblin?’ gasped George.

“‘To be sure,’ said the Goblin.

“‘Why,’ continued George, ‘I thought they were terrible looking creatures.’

“‘Ha, ha,’ laughed the Goblin. ‘You make just the same mistake that so many boys and girls do. You see I am not terrible at all. In fact, I am very nice and I cure little boys and girls of their pains.’

“‘Are you a Doctor Goblin, then?’ laughed George.

“‘No,’ smiled the Goblin. ‘Doctors and I really need have nothing to do with each other. Doctors should only be called in when little girls and boys are really, really sick and not when they’re only pretending.’

“‘I’m not pretending,’ said George, almost in tears. ‘I feel just as sick as can be.’

“‘Nothing to brag about, is it?’ asked the Goblin.

“‘No-o,’ said George.

“‘And why are you sick?’ asked the Goblin.

“‘I don’t know,’ said George. For surely, he thought to himself, the Goblin couldn’t know what he had been doing in the daytime—and George did know, perfectly well, why he was sick.

“‘Did you enjoy those candies?’ asked the Goblin, and George looked quite uneasy.

“‘I don’t know,’ said George.

“‘I suppose it is hard to make up your mind now whether you liked them or not—since they have made you sick.’

“‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ cried George, who had thought he was going to have fun with the Goblin, and he hid his head under the bedclothes in shame.

“‘You see,’ continued the Goblin, ‘you were getting into the habit of really making a little piggie of yourself! You were getting too fat and lazy. You didn’t like to play ball with the boys nearly so much as you once did. Isn’t that true?’ And George, who had stuck his head out of the bedclothes again, nodded.

“‘And some of the boys were beginning to call you “Roly-poly George,” weren’t they? And they were telling you that soon you’d be able to join the circus as the fat boy? It wasn’t very kind of them perhaps, but it was true, eh?’ And the Goblin grinned.

“‘Yes,’ was all George could say.

“‘And last of all, you ate that whole layer of chocolates in the box that was hidden in the pantry; you thought you were having a great feast. Until—until—until—’

“‘Oh I know,’ said George. ‘I felt dreadfully sick—but I’m better now. Don’t scold me any more, please.’

“‘I won’t,’ said the Goblin. ‘I visit little boys and girls like you because I know you don’t want to get sick—and half the time you don’t know that so many sweeties are very, very bad for you—and that you’ll grow fat and lazy and no one will care for you when it comes play time.’

“‘I’ll be good—and not a piggie any more!’ said George. ‘I did feel so sick—and I don’t want to be the fat boy in the circus. I want to stay at home and play with my friends!’

“‘And you will!’ said the Goblin. ‘To-morrow morning you’ll be all right—but first of all—to-night we’re going to take you for a sail in our airboat just to show you that Goblins are really nice creatures after all!’

“And several weeks later, George was so well and so strong and quick in the games that he was made Captain of his Baseball Team!”

JULY 22: Jack-in-the-Pulpit

“I am Jack-in-the-pulpit,” announced a wild flower one day.

“Are you?” asked the gnats and flies walking and flying about.

“I am indeed,” said Jack. “If you don’t believe me, you can have a look.”

“We are invited to have a look,” said the gnats to each other and the flies said: “We can call upon him, and he looks very fine, too.”

“In the spring,” said Jack, for he thought it was the correct thing to preach a little sermon as he was in a pulpit, “in the spring,” he continued, “I have many bright red berries. Years and years ago the Indians used to boil these berries and found them very good to eat.

“But at this time of the year, I am simply at my best. Oh, yes, I feel so jolly and well, so happy and gay.”

And Jack smiled at the little creatures around him.

“You would be surprised, no doubt,” he went on, “if I should tell you a few things about my family history. Some I will leave unsaid, however,” he added with a roguish look.

Now, over Jack’s head was a part of the flower which looked like the sounding-board of a pulpit. He stood very straight in his pulpit, which was very handsome, striped in greenish-yellow, white and orange-yellow colored decorations.

“I have a fine cousin,” he said, “and this is the part of my family history I want to tell you. My cousin is the Calla-lily and she has a beautiful white gown which she wears. But she is striped as I am, and she is a cousin, though she cares more for dress than I do, and looks very stately and fine.

“I am more natural,” said Jack. “I’m a good sort of a chap. I like to talk to my little friends and give them advice because I am very fond of preaching.”

“He must be very fine,” the gnats said.

“How beautiful to give us advice,” the flies added.

And to himself Jack was saying: “The poor little insects, little do they know me. I am not as fine as I make myself out to be. I should just say I’m not.

“For I do not practice what I preach. I don’t believe in doing such a foolish thing. That is, I preach to the little creatures and then I let them come and see my pulpit—and then, it’s very, very seldom that I ever let them out again.” Then Jack began to preach once more and gathered about him more stupid and innocent little gnats and flies! But, of course, as he is only a flower we can’t blame him too much.

JULY 23: The Tide

“Billie Brownie was talking to the High Tide as it came up over the beach,” said daddy. “‘Don’t you ever work any faster or any slower?’ asked Billie Brownie.

“‘Certainly not,’ said the Tide. ‘Why should we?’

“‘It would be nice, I should think, to change some day and rush in very suddenly, and then some other day stay way out on the beach and not come in for hours and hours—long after you are due.’

“‘That would be very wrong,’ said the Tide. ‘We are helped in what we do by two very noble creatures.’ And all the time the Tide was talking its voice would get louder and louder, for all the waves were roaring and making such a racket.

“‘Who are they?’ asked Billie Brownie.

“‘The Sun and the Moon,’ roared the Tide. ‘The Moon is three times more important than the Sun—but the Sun is mighty helpful too. We do as they say, you see. Twice every twenty-four hours of your time we come in and go out. And we do this at such hours as the Sun and Moon wish. So if people ask the Sun and Moon, or watch them for a time, they will be able to tell just what we are going to do. And we never change the time they’ve given us—never—NEVER!’ And the Tide bellowed this for all it was worth.

“‘I wouldn’t keep such good time,’ said Billie Brownie, ‘no, not for any creature—not even Mr. Sun or Mr. Moon. And yet I’m a great friend of both.’

“‘Ah, you’re not such a friend as we are,’ said the Tide. ‘We have always done as Mr. Moon said for years and years and years—too many for me to remember.’

“‘But you might just as well be a clock and get wound up if you’re going to keep such good time and do things just exactly when you’re supposed to. It seems very foolish to me,’ and Billie Brownie put his head to one side as he thought about it.

“‘Ah,’ said the Tide, ‘that’s just where you’re so wrong. A clock has to be looked after. Some one has to wind it up. No one has to wind us up. And a clock often gets out of order and goes to the clock-maker to be mended. You never heard of the Tide going to a Tide Mender to be mended, did you?’

“‘I never knew there was such a thing as a Tide Mender,’ said Billie Brownie.

“‘There isn’t!’ said the Tide. ‘That’s just it. We don’t need one—for we never get out of order. And no one has to worry about us or fuss about us. We just do as Mr. Sun and Mr. Moon say—especially Mr. Moon, as I’ve told you, for somehow,’ and the voice of the Tide grew lower, ‘Mr. Moon has better judgment. I can whisper this to you now, for Mr. Sun has gone to bed and won’t feel hurt! And now I must go out to the ocean again—for I’ve been talking to you for hours.’”

JULY 24: Little Edith’s Garden

“‘Whatever shall I do?’ said little Edith to herself,” commenced daddy, “‘I do want to have a garden so much and yet the snails eat it up!’

“While she was wondering like this a little voice whispered in her ear:

“‘Edith, Edith,’ it said.

“‘Yes,’ answered Edith looking about her. And then, seeing no one, said:

“‘Who are you? Where are you?’

“‘I’m the Fairy Queen,’ said the voice, ‘and you can’t see me because I’ve put on my invisible robe—which no one can see but a Fairy. I’ve come to talk to you. I know how you love your garden and that you’ve not been able to make anything grow this summer. Listen!’ And a queer swishing sound passed through the air.

“‘There!’ continued the Fairy Queen, ‘I have waved my invisible wand and it will bring you luck. Do not plant any seeds for a week—then the snails will think you have decided not to have any garden at all! It will be a joke on them—but they have had enough feasts and now it is time for you to have a garden!’

“In a short time Edith had real flowers, and her garden was more beautiful than ever it had been, and often when she was working among the flowers, she said half aloud:

“‘If the Fairy Queen is around me in her invisible robe, I want to thank her, oh, so much, for my lovely garden.’”

JULY 25: The Earth Visits the Moon

“When Mr. Moon is ‘eclipsed,’ as they say, it means the earth gets in the way, and when Mr. Sun is ‘eclipsed’ it means that Mr. Moon is in the way. And that makes it dark—for an Eclipse is a shadow,” explained daddy.

“Mr. Moon was shining hard. He was very bright and the sky seemed to be lighted up by him. All the stars were out and were twinkling with joy and fun, for well they knew what was going to happen.

“Mr. Moon was also looking very fat and well! Goodness! but he was round and big and jolly! He blinked one eye and then he winked with the other, and he said to himself:

“‘The Earth is going to pay me a visit to-night. I am highly honored. It’s not often that the earth comes my way—and that’s why I am all dressed up in my best.’

“Pretty soon the grown-ups on the Earth saw a shadow come over part of Mr. Moon’s face. Very, very slowly he grew darker, and the Earth people all came out of doors to watch what was going to happen.

“‘I’m pretty important, I am,’ said Mr. Moon to two very tall pine trees. And the pine trees whispered back in the slight, rustling breeze:

“‘Yes, Mr. Moon, you’re very important. And you show us off too. We look handsome, and dark, and tall, when you throw your light over us.’

“‘Hush—’ said Mr. Moon. ‘The Earth is on its way.’

“And only half of Mr. Moon could be seen now. The other half was covered up by a dark shadow.

“‘That’s the earth throwing its shadow on the moon,’ said the grownups to each other. But up in the sky the Moon was saying:

“‘Well, how do you do, Mr. Earth? It’s a long time since I’ve seen you. And how have you been all this time?’

“‘Well,’ said the Earth, as it cast its shadow over Mr. Moon still more, ‘I’ve been in my usual good health. I still am a pretty good and solid soul, you know. I stand for so much too! I let folks walk all over me, and still I never murmur in the least. I let the King of the Clouds pour down on me—and Mr. Sun warms me up with his rays so that I begin to grow thirsty again.

“‘And,’ the Earth continued, ‘sometimes the children dig me up—and I don’t mind in the very least. It’s just my nature, I suppose!’

“‘Yes,’ said Mr. Moon, ‘you are a good-natured old soul.’

“‘Old?’ asked the Earth. ‘Why, every spring I am just as young and fresh again as if I were not a minute old. Whatever do you mean, Mr. Moon?’

“‘That’s true,’ said Mr. Moon. ‘You certainly do come up younger every spring—but you have been around a great many years.’

“‘It’s a good thing I have,’ laughed the Earth; ‘and now tell me how you have been?’

“Mr. Moon was almost entirely covered by the Earth’s shadow as he began his talk:

“‘I am shining as brightly as ever, and I still change my suit several times a month. In fact, there’s not much difference in me—or in my life. I do much the same things always. I’m what you might call a very sensible old fellow. I do everything right on time, and enjoy myself hugely.’

“‘There, there,’ said the Earth. ‘I must be going again.’

“‘What short visits you pay,’ said Mr. Moon as he began to show his brightness again.

“‘Do you know why I do that?’ whispered the Earth.

“‘No,’ said Mr. Moon, and he took a little walk along the sky.

“‘Because,’ said the Earth, ‘grown-ups think it’s a wonderful thing when I call on you. I don’t let them get used to it—and so they think that it’s very, very m-a-r-v-e-l-o-u-s! Look at all the Earth people, and then you’ll agree with me.’

“And of course, true enough, down on the Earth, every one was looking at the Eclipse.”

JULY 26: The Elephant’s Toothache

“The Elephant’s mouth was very much swollen,” said daddy, “and the Zoo dentist said, ‘He has a very bad tooth, but we’ll fix this right away, so he won’t have any more pain.’

“So they put something in the tooth and all around it so the elephant wouldn’t feel any pain at all. It made it feel quite dull and the throbbing which he had felt for two weeks went away.

“In a very few minutes, with the help of an instrument which made the elephant shake a little nervously as he saw it (for he couldn’t imagine what it might be), out came the tooth.

“‘There,’ said the Zoo dentist, ‘you will have no more pain.’

“In a few days the elephant was himself again. The soreness had all gone away and he was eating once more—and eating the most delicious of dishes, for the keeper said:

“‘I want to reward you all I can, as you’re the bravest creature I’ve ever known, for you’ve had this toothache for some time and we never knew it until your mouth became so swollen. Yet you never complained. And that was why you haven’t been eating well lately.’”

JULY 27: The Potato Skins

“The potato skin is receiving fair treatment and justice at last,” said the second potato skin to the first potato skin.

“What is justice?” asked the first potato skin.

“Justice,” said the second potato skin, “is being just and to be just is to be fair. Now do you understand?”

“I do,” said the first potato skin. “Please go on with your story, and forgive me for the interruption. I don’t know much about manners. I haven’t been up in the world enough. The ground is no place for manners, you know; at least I didn’t think so. And then our chief callers and friends were the potato bugs. They’re not overly mannerly.”

“I will forgive you,” said the second potato skin. “For I don’t know that I am mannerly myself.” The second potato skin had been trying to tell a story.

“A great professor made a study of us and he decided we were not poisonous, as some people have tried to make out, but that we were healthful and good, and that for people who didn’t care much for the taste of the skins, we could be ground very fine and cooked with cream,” continued the second potato skin.

“Fine, fine,” said the first potato skin. “To be cooked with cream sounds very nice indeed.”

“That is the way we’re going to be used,” said the second potato skin. “And isn’t it wonderful to think professors study us and our good points?”

“It does sound mighty fine,” said the first potato skin. “Somehow one doesn’t think of the two together—professors and potatoes—but it is nice to think that we are high enough up to be the companions of professors.”

JULY 28: The Traveling Flowers

“A great, great, great many years ago, oh, so many, many, many years ago, there were not so many big cities as there are now,” said Mother Nature one day to her children.

“There was more room everywhere and people almost all had gardens and flowers and could walk just a little distance and gather all the wild flowers they wanted.

“But the cities grew up and somehow, without meaning to, I’m sure, they pushed the flowers out of the way.

“Many of the people missed the flowers and the ferns and the shrubs and the Nature children. But they couldn’t do the work they had to in the city and have gardens, too, for there wasn’t any room in the city for the gardens.

“Well, when the spring-time came along one year, after so many cities had grown bigger and bigger and so many people had gone to live in the cities, the Nature children called and said:

“‘Mother Nature, the Dream King has told us that many, many people from the cities will be out in the country places for holidays and for week-ends this spring.

“‘So we have thought up a plan. You see, the Dream King tells us that every once in a while the people get very tired from all the business they must do and all the studying they must do, too.

“‘So we’ve decided we would look our very best all the time, so that when the people from the cities come out to see us they may pick some of us and take us home with them so we’ll cheer them up.’

“I told them I thought their idea was wonderful. And ever since then the flowers have all looked their best and the shrubs have all looked their best and the ferns have all looked their best, so they could cheer up the city people when they were taken back after holidays.

“So when any of you are picked and carried to the cities, keep your prettiest and freshest smiles on your faces.”

And they all promised Mother Nature they would.

JULY 29: The Visitors

“A little girl named Lillian,” said daddy, “had a very sore throat and could only swallow soft foods.

“‘I think I will call my desserts my visitors,’ she said one day, ‘for I will have to have some make-believe games now that I have to be in bed a little while longer.’

“So when lunch time came and there was cornstarch on her tray, she would say: ‘Welcome, Lord Cornstarch! How is Your Highness to-day? Of course you can’t talk to me. But I can talk to you, and I will do you the great honor due one of your rank and station—that is, I will eat you!’ Then she would eat her dessert of cornstarch until it was all gone.

“When supper time came and she had cornstarch again, she would say: ‘Well, I am glad to see you, Lady Cornstarch. How is Your Highness this fine evening? I don’t suppose Your Ladyship cares to have a little chat, but I am sure Your Ladyship wouldn’t mind being eaten, eh?’ And so Lady Cornstarch would disappear.

“On jelly day she would greet her lunch time jelly by saying: ‘Glad to see you, Prince Jelly. It’s nice that you are such a pleasant prince and will slip down so easily. I wouldn’t like it at all if you were horrid and stiff, as I imagine some princes might be.’

“Her supper jelly she would greet in this fashion:

“‘Good evening, Princess Jelly, how are you this evening? I hope your taste is very fine and that I will enjoy you.’ And then she would eat Princess Jelly.

“And it made the time she had to spend in bed pass much more quickly this way.”

JULY 30: The Little Bumblebee’s Mistake

“The fairies had a fancy-dress ball last night,” commenced daddy.

“They all went as different flowers. One little fairy was dressed so she looked like a bright red nasturtium, another was dressed as a pink rambler rose, another as a yellow golden-glow, another as a pansy, another as a little forget-me-not, and all of them, in short, in lovely costumes like flowers.

“The Fairy Queen wore the costume of the American Beauty Rose, and her wand was one tall, tall rose, very full and big and splendid.

“They had dancing and games and all the elves, the brownies and many of the wood creatures had been invited. But one of the funniest things happened you can imagine. Some of the fairies had dressed themselves as honey-suckles. They kept together and danced together so they would look like a vine. Others had dressed as a vine of morning-glories.

“Pretty soon a buzzing was heard. It was louder than the band of crickets they had engaged for the music; it was louder than the sounds that came from the laughter of the fairies.

“You see, nobody had thought of such a thing happening. The bumble-bees and the humming birds, who had all gone to sleep, had in their dreams imagined they saw lovely morning glories still awake and lovely honey-suckles all over the vines.

“One little bumble-bee went to his smaller brother and nudged him, saying,

“‘Oh, look over there; morning-glories!’

“The other little bumble-bee was about to turn over and go to sleep, for he had scarcely so much as peeped to see, when he, too, suddenly noticed all the morning-glories. They awoke all the bumble-bees far and near and made so much fuss and noise that they woke up the humming-birds, who always notice what the bumble-bees are up to.

“Of course the humming-birds immediately spied the honey-suckles, and you should have seen them scamper.

“When the fairies realized what had happened they almost lost their balance in the dances, for they shook all over with laughter.

“As the bumble-bees and the humming-birds got nearer they, too, saw that they had made a mistake, but the fairies at once called out,

“‘Come to the party and dance, too, and we will give you honey, for we are having it for supper. We couldn’t give a ball and dress like flowers without having flower-honey for supper.’

“And this delighted them all.”

JULY 31: Ripe Raspberries

“Did you hear the great news?” asked one of the raspberry bushes of another bush.

“No, what is the great news?” asked the other raspberry bush.

“There is going to be a great raspberry hunt to-day,” the first raspberry bush said.

“Well, if they see us they won’t have to hunt very far,” the second raspberry bush said.

“That is so,” answered the first raspberry bush, “and they know we’re here. We let some of our messengers tell them. The only thing is they are not sure whether or not we are ripe, and so they will be delighted when they find how easily we come off the bushes. For when we’re ripe we come off easily and when we’re not ripe we stick on and show we aren’t ripe enough to come off.”

AUGUST 1: The Brave Mocking Bird

“I have a true story to tell you this evening, children,” said daddy, “of a mocking bird.

“Mr. Mitchell Mocking Bird was his name and he was a pet in a large family of children. They all loved him and he could speak a good many words, and he could sing like ever so many birds. He was allowed out of his cage, too. One night Mitchell began to scream. How he did yell! Piercing yells went all through the house! And he hurried from one bedroom to another. He awoke the mother and daddy of the children first and then he woke up the children.

“‘Come!’ he called. It was a word he could say, and he kept repeating it over and over again.

“‘Come! Come! Come!’ And they all hurried, one after the other, and followed the mocking bird downstairs.

“What should they see but a tiny blaze, which every few minutes seemed to grow and splutter and burst into a bigger flame.

“‘Water! Every one get water!’ shouted the children’s daddy, and the mocking bird kept calling:

“‘Come!’