Part 26

“‘I know there are plenty of rivers, for in my five years of circus life I’ve seen quantities of rivers. Yes, there must be one not far from this theater. It seems to me on one of my marches that I remember seeing it.

“‘In fact, I feel quite sure I remember seeing a river at the other end of the long street we marched through.

“‘At any rate, I will go and have a look.’

“So Steve started to go through the door at the end of the lower part of the stage where he was staying waiting for his act to go on. There would be other acts first and then he would come.

“‘I’ll be back in time,’ he said to himself, ‘but if not I’ll be just having a holiday. Of course, usually holidays are given to people and animals, but this time I will take my own holiday all of my own accord.’

“Instead of undoing the door or opening it in the usual way Steve walked along pushing the door in front of him and taking it right off its hinges.

“When he got out on the street he looked about him. The children were just coming from school.

“‘Well, hello, children,’ he said, as he waved his trunk around. Some of the children had peanuts with them and some of them had pennies so they threw delicacies to Steve and said:

“‘Oh, aren’t you a nice big elephant.’

“But when their mothers saw that the elephant was walking along they called to their children to come right in the houses.

“‘He is nice,’ the children called back.

“‘You can’t be sure,’ said their mothers.

“‘Now isn’t that annoying,’ said Steve. ‘Here I am feeling as friendly as friendly as can be, and the mothers want their children to come away from me and to go into foolish houses.

“‘I don’t want to go into houses. They needn’t bang their doors so tight shut. Haven’t I just left a house and don’t I want a bath?

“‘I don’t take a bath by going in people’s houses. I’ve heard of the size of their bath tubs. They wouldn’t do for me.’

“Steve suddenly discovered a river at the end of another few blocks.

“He hurried along, waving his trunk as he went, and oh, what joy it was to him, to take a real swim in a real river. By the time he had finished his keepers had come after him, but he didn’t mind going back again to do his tricks in the theater for he had had a bath in a real river!”

NOVEMBER 5: Waving and Dreaming

“Laddie lived out in the country on a farm and not far away were the railway tracks,” said daddy. “How Laddie did love to see the great long trains go rushing by and curling blue smoke coming from the engine!

“He would sit on the back porch of his home and watch and watch the trains as they went by, and every day there were sure to be trains passing five different times. Laddie was always there on the back porch, just as regularly as if he had to be there.

“And every time a train would pass Laddie would wave and as he waved he would think of the people in the train and how they would go on and on into wonderful parts of the land, new parts he had never seen.

“Often people would wave back to him and then he would smile and feel just like an adventure, too, for he had made friends with these wonderful people rushing by on adventureful travels.”

NOVEMBER 6: The Clever Fire Horses

“The fire,” began daddy, “was in a deserted barn on the very outskirts of the town. It was quite near some houses and an inn. So the firemen wanted to do all they could to keep fire from spreading to the houses, for there was quite a high wind. No one minded if the old barn burnt, for it really was of no use to any one, and the owner of it never bothered to keep it up at all.

“But the fire-engine horses made an awful fuss. They heard, what the firemen didn’t hear, one of their own kind crying for help in horse language.

“They tried to break from the engines and kicked their heels and made a lot of commotion. They shook their heads and made all sorts of funny sounds.

“Finally one of the firemen said:

“‘I have a suspicion that the horses hear something in that barn, and I am going in to investigate, for maybe there is something alive inside. I have never known these horses to make a mistake.’

“So he went in through a broken window, and when he got inside he found a horse trembling with fear at seeing the flames.

“The old fireman unbolted the back door of the barn where the fire had not as yet spread and led the horse out. Then you should have seen the fire-engine horses. They were so happy that the old horse had been saved.

“But just at that moment an old man came running out of the inn and crying: ‘Oh, save my horse! He’s in that barn!’

“And when he saw that his horse had been saved he went over and put his head on the horse’s mane, and the horse neighed contentedly.

“The old man had stopped at the inn for the night, and there they had told him he could safely keep his horse in the old barn.

“‘Oh, I am so grateful to you!’ said the old man to the firemen. ‘I love my horse like a very real friend. How can I ever thank you?’

“‘We’re not the ones to thank,’ said the fireman who had gone in the barn when the fire horses had seemed so excited. ‘Our horses saved your horse’s life.’”

NOVEMBER 7: The Two Roses

“Have I ever met you before?” asked the yellow rose of a beautiful pink rose. The pink rose was of a very exquisite color and though the yellow rose had seen many pink roses it was sure it hadn’t seen one of just that very same shade.

“I don’t believe you have,” said the pink rose, “for I am a new kind of a rose. I haven’t any thorns on me—that is, I only have some way, way down by the bottom of my stem. That is what they have trained my family to do. It took a good deal of training and teaching to make us like that and last spring when my grandmother made her appearance she was the first one to have succeeded in being almost thornless. It was a great day for grandmother!”

NOVEMBER 8: The Moth Balls

“How funny moths are,” said the first Moth Ball. “When most creatures go to the country or the seashore in the summer the moths prefer to stay if they can, in great heavy coats and furs and tam-o’-shanters, and so forth.

“It is really most ridiculous. One would think they would prefer it where it was cool.”

“Still,” said the second Moth Ball, “we do not go to cool spots in the summer. We stay right in with the warm clothes.”

“That is so,” the first Moth Ball answered, “but we have our work to do. Our business keeps us in warm clothes in the summer-time, and you’d think moths would stay away, when they can see there is no hospitality offered them.”

“Oh, well,” the second Moth Ball said, “I suppose there are some creatures who will never take hints and perhaps it is just as well.

“For if moths took hints there would be no need for moth balls.”

“True,” the first Moth Ball ended as it was shaken out of a heavy coat about to begin its second winter.

NOVEMBER 9: Good-Winter

“As you know,” commenced daddy, “when the little creatures who go to sleep for the winter are about to begin their long, long rest they wish each other a good-winter just as we would say a good-night to each other, and Billie Brownie hurried off to make his good-winter calls on some of his friends.

“‘Well,’ said Billie Brownie to Mother Grizzly, ‘I wish you a good-winter.

“‘If you were only going to have a night’s rest of course I’d only wish you a good-night and pleasant dreams.

“‘But as you sleep for the winter I wish you a good-winter and pleasant winter dreams.’

“‘Woof, woof, thank you,’ said Mother Grizzly.

“And Billie Brownie left Mother Grizzly to tuck her children into their nice beds right by her in the old family den.

“He was very fond of Mother Grizzly.

“Then he went to call on the Ground Squirrels.

“‘Hello, little Ground Squirrels,’ he said, as he saw them after he had traveled a little distance in his Brownie motor-car.

“‘Are you on your way to bed?’

“‘We are indeed,’ they said. ‘Our parents went to bed at the end of the summer but we were allowed to stay up longer.

“‘It is such fun to be allowed to stay up a little longer once in a great while. Good-winter, Billie Brownie.’

“For they said good-winter to Billie Brownie, too, as they would not see him during the winter, although he would not be asleep.

“They would be the ones asleep!

“And then he called on Mother Black-Bear, the Prairie Dog family, Willie Woodchuck and his family, and many others and to all he wished pleasant winter dreams.”

NOVEMBER 10: The Horse’s Complaint

“When I went out to-day,” began the horse, “the farmer had a new check rein for me. It held my head way, way up in the air and it was so hard for me. My neck ached and throbbed, and still the farmer drove me along and never paid any attention.

“I just longed to have him wear it for five minutes and see how he would feel. But we had not gone so very far when a lady stopped and spoke to the master.

“‘That check rein is very tight,’ she said.

“‘Oh no,’ said the master. ‘He is used to a rein like that. He always keeps his head up that way. He is a fine, well-bred horse.’

“‘That’s true,’ said the lady. ‘But that is no reason why you should make him suffer.’

“‘He doesn’t suffer,’ said the master. And all the time my neck was aching, aching, and, oh, how I was longing to get my head down a little. The rein held it up, and never for a moment could I get it down.

“Before another word was said, my check rein was loosened, and then joy of joys, I put my head down. I moved it around, and twisted it, and I shook it! It was glorious.

“‘There,’ said the lady. ‘Don’t you see he likes his head down? He doesn’t want it forced up beyond where he would hold it naturally. That is a very cruel rein.’

“‘You know nothing about horses,’ said my master as he put the check rein back.

“There was my head back in its cruel check rein again, and on we drove. Oh how long that drive to town and back seemed to-day. And though I wish the master no harm, how I do wish he could be driven into town just once—with his head way back—held—so he couldn’t move it—couldn’t let it down for a second! Then he would know what it means to a horse who has too tight a check rein.”

“Then he would know,” neighed the other horses. “Oh, if masters could only wear check reins too, so they would know just what they are like,” they added.

NOVEMBER 11: Armistice Day

We think of days in history and of great and important events and of the dates upon which they took place. And little do we realize that one of the greatest dates in history was one which almost all of us remember. Those who were only babies then are so quickly catching up with those ahead of them that they will hear about it so often that they will feel they, too, remember.

Early, early in the morning of November 11, 1918, peace came to a world in which so many nations had been at war that it was indeed almost a world war. And so huge and terrible and gigantic a war was it, including men of so many countries, and so great was the ideal for which they were fighting against an aggressive tyranny, that it had to be known by some name quite unusual and quite different.

It was also called The Great War.

It was great in its immensity, its idealism, its heroism, its scientifically modern and horrible machine-guns and submarines and gases, its tragedy, its suffering and the confusion and disorder it left behind.

There had been on November 7th a false report of peace. At that false report (then people did not know that it was false) every one went wild. The streets were filled with singing, shouting, happy, excited people. Oh, how happy they were! So happy they couldn’t quite express their happiness. They had kept their worries and their sorrows so closely to themselves that they found it hard at first to let out what they felt.

And let it out they must! Joy was not to be kept to themselves. Joy was to be shared. Joy was something one didn’t have to be brave about—joy was too kindly and gay and merry—joy didn’t demand any self-control, nor did joy demand anything that was hard!

Whistles were blown and bells began to ring. Flags began appearing from windows, flags of all sizes. Many people rushed from their houses to wave their flags as they ran joyously up and down the streets.

One gray-haired woman spent the day in waving her flag as she walked the streets and smiled at people she had never met before. But now she could share her happiness with these strangers.

Her son, who had been fighting for them, too, was now safe!

People made very sure of the report that came next—on November 11th—but it was a real report and there was no doubt of it this time. Victory had come. But not only victory—peace! The very word itself was more deeply thrilling than ever it had been before.

In the cities the people took to the streets and shared their joy with everybody. They rode on trucks; in every motor there were crowds—many of them had been strangers to each other but a short time ago. Older women seemed to have grown suddenly younger. They walked with a new springiness in their steps. People sang—crowds went by having made up hurried parades, singing as they went.

Even tin pans were brought out and did their share toward a great noise in thankfulness. Peace! Peace following war!

People dressed up—solemn people were no longer solemn.

And all were a part of a great day in history—one of history’s greatest days!

In small towns too the whistles blew, the church bells rang and very early in the dark morning, lights appeared in the houses. Small village bands or a group who could play musical instruments led processions which kept on all through the day and up into the following night. The small towns too had sent their own to the war. And peace had come to the small towns.

November 11th—Armistice Day! Peace! Something so beautiful, meaning so much to all human beings, that it has become the hope of the world that peace may always be with us!

NOVEMBER 12: Window Castles

“The children want to look out of their windows and you’re in the way,” said Mr. Sun to Master Chilly and Jack Frost’s other brothers.

Chilly and the others began to move a little and as they moved their castles disappeared with them. The children were getting up now and were calling to each other. “Oh, look at the wonderful pictures on the windows. There are castles too! Aren’t they beautiful!”

Chilly and the other Frost brothers and workers were delighted. “You see, Mr. Sun, they like us.”

“Well, maybe they do,” said Mr. Sun, “but I can’t help you stay around. I must smile and talk in my usual way and it’s too warm a day for you to like.”

Slowly the frost castles left the windows, for they were taken away by the Frost Brothers after Mr. Sun had talked to them as they will never teach any one else the mystery of their work.

NOVEMBER 13: The Autumn Paint Club

“Come on, now,” said Jack Frost to his brothers. “It is time that the Autumn Paint Club finished up some of its work.”

“Nutty Chum, Chippy Chappy, and Sharpy and Bright Eyes and others of the squirrel family will be glad that we have come, for we will improve the nuts and they like the nuts, oh yes indeed!

“Then we will please the children, too, for they like the chestnut season. Oh, yes, that is the truth! They do like the chestnut season.

“But ah, Frost Brothers, the night is almost here. Let’s get started.

“Remember, you all know just what you have to do! You all know which of you must paint the windows with the magic Frost paint brushes this evening, and you know which of you must whisper to the flowers the little Frost word, ‘Obey!’ You all know what you must do.”

“We all know,” said the Frost Brothers.

“I feel just like work,” said Master Very Cool.

“So do I,” said Master Chilly.

“I feel like it, too, I should say I did,” agreed Master Heavy Frost.

“Good,” said Jack Frost. “And you’re a fine worker, Master Heavy Frost. You make creatures obey you!”

So off went the Frost Brothers, and the next morning when the people awoke they said what a heavy frost there had been, but Jack Frost was chuckling to himself as he said: “The Autumn Paint Club did fine work last night!”

NOVEMBER 14: Mother Brown Bat

“Ah, children,” said Mother Brown Bat, “it will soon be time to go to bed. And we shall sleep well, for bats are good sleepers. We shall sleep especially well if it is to be a cold winter. Ah, my children, what marketing trips we have made. I have not had to call in a neighbor to take care of my babies when I went out. No, my babies hung onto my neck and came along, too.

“What times we used to have catching bugs and other delicious delicacies we found about at night. What meals we used to have.

“We used to have beetle pudding quite often and gnat salad. Do you remember, my Bat babies?”

“We remember, Mother Brown Bat. But,” they said, “we are no longer babies.”

“That is true,” said Mother Brown Bat, “and you are able to look after yourselves; but I still call you babies, for it is hard for a mother to realize her children are grown-up and you do grow up so quickly.

“Sometimes we went about in the very, very early mornings and often we started out before it was really night. But we took great care, for we kept away from people. People have such a curious habit of not liking bats.”

“That is hard to believe,” said the Bat children.

“I think so,” said Mother Brown Bat. “I should think they would like bats, and especially the members of our family, for we are so small and dainty and so clever in the way we hang on to the trees when we sleep, rather than fussing about housekeeping and bed-making all the time.

“Housekeeping takes up too much time for a Mother Brown Bat and the Mr. Brown Bat and the little Brown Bats wouldn’t half appreciate it either.

“So she doesn’t bother to do a lot of work for no reason at all, for none of us miss a home life. We’re perfectly happy as we are and with our own ways and habits.”

“Perfectly happy,” agreed the Bat children. “We’re perfectly happy, Mother Brown Bat.”

NOVEMBER 15: The Magic Slate

“There was once,” said Witty Witch, as she sat in the center of old Mr. Giant’s cave, and told stories to the elves, brownies, gnomes, goblins and many of her other little friends, “a very naughty little gnome.

“‘I think slates are the nicest things in the world,’ he said. ‘Anything we write or draw on them we can rub right out again. I guess I’ll be like a slate myself. I’ll do what I please and then I’ll rub it out.’

“Of course he didn’t quite know how he was to do that. Rubbing out chalk marks on his slate he found to be quite a different matter from rubbing out mean and naughty actions!

“Still he said to himself that he would never do the same naughty things again, and that he was sorry, and that was just about the same as rubbing them out.

“He always pretended in school that he knew the answer to every question. Then, when Professor Gnome would ask what he had written, he would say, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Professor, but I didn’t know you wanted me to keep the answer on my slate. I rubbed it out.’ For then, he thought, he had shown he knew something by writing on his slate—even though he did not write the answer at all, but simply something quite absurd.

“One night he was very tired. He had been playing hard and had quite forgotten about his lessons. He had also knocked down a little creature smaller than himself, but he had said to himself that he was sorry for that. He really hadn’t meant to be so rough.

“Suddenly before his eyes he saw Professor Gnome, only he looked much bigger than he did in school. He was carrying a big slate.

“‘This is a slate which cannot be rubbed off by your sponge, little gnome,’ he said. ‘I have the magic rubber for it which the Fairy Queen gave me. You can now do your lessons correctly on this slate and when I think they are well done then I shall take your slate and rub it clean.’

“And the little gnome seemed to be back in the school-room now and he had written something on his slate—just to pretend he knew the answer—and then he tried to rub it off before Professor Gnome saw it. But it wouldn’t rub at all. And all the class laughed at him for knowing absolutely nothing.

“Next it was recess time, and the little gnome he had knocked down was crying. He had bumped his head as he had fallen, and the bump kept growing larger and larger until at last his head had gone entirely, and there was only a big bump left!

“Oh, how the gnome felt. ‘I shall always remember that I can’t rub out everything I do,’ he said. ‘My magic slate will teach me a good lesson, for I’ll be so ashamed when I see all my mistakes right in front of me until I have made them really and truly right.’

“It was only a dream, to be sure,” said Witty Witch, “but from that day on the gnome worked and played as though everything he did and said could not be washed off unless everything was right.”

NOVEMBER 16: Peter’s Trip with the Man in the Moon

“There was once,” said daddy, “a little boy named Peter who had always longed to see the man in the moon. Every night when there was a full moon he would sit at his window and look at the funny, jolly face of the old man until he became so sleepy he would have to go to bed.

“One night he sat watching so long that he fell asleep by the window. It was not long before he saw the strangest thing. The moon seemed to be growing larger and larger, and soon it was back of a tree near his window. He could see quite plainly the jolly old face of his beloved man in the moon looking jollier and fatter than ever. The old man grinned from ear to ear at Peter, and in a moment or two he spoke.

“‘Well, Peter, here I am. Now how do you like me?’ And as he spoke he chuckled and laughed.

“‘Oh, I think you’re wonderful!’ said Peter, with wild enthusiasm and joy.

“‘So you think I’m wonderful, do you? Ha, ha! Well, that is a joke! But there certainly isn’t any one else just like me, that’s true enough. So maybe I’m wonderful because I’m so queer. What about that?’

“‘Oh, no,’ said Peter, ‘you’re wonderful because you’re so fat and jolly and because you’re always laughing and seeming to have a good time.’

“At that, the old man in the moon laughed some more and said: ‘Well, you’re a funny little chap too. All folks don’t think it’s such a compliment to be fat, but I do. It’s the way I am, you see, and it’s best to be satisfied with the way you are, isn’t it? If you really like me then I’ll take you off in my chariot of mist to visit the stars, and you’ll call on all the bright queens of the stars, who sparkle so you can see them from down on the earth.’

“So off went Peter with the man in the moon for the most gorgeous trip. They visited all the stars, saw the bright fairy queens who live in them and all the little elves and brownies. And then the man in the moon showed Peter where he stayed in the sky and how he moved every week so that all the little boys and girls in the world could see a full moon every month. And Peter could see down below all the wee little houses (they looked so small from where Peter was) and the earth, which looked very funny and small, too, from up in the moon. Peter felt a little afraid at first that he’d fall, but as he’d never heard of the man in the moon having a tumble to earth he felt comforted. Alas, all too soon the journey had to end, for Peter heard the distant sound of a breakfast bell.

“As he yawned he realized he’d been sleeping all night by the window. But, oh, such a gorgeous sleep as it had been!”

NOVEMBER 17: Dinah

“Her name was Dinah,” said daddy, “and she was a gorilla. A gorilla is a relation of the monkey family, you know, and looks something like a chimpanzee.

“She had had quite an interesting life as she had lived in Africa when young, and then she had been captured and had been tamed and had been very friendly with her owner, and after that she was brought over to this country and given to a Zoo in a large city.