Chapter 2
"Come," said Mother, "leave your toys now, and bathe your face and hands, for it is time to go down town to buy your winter coat."
"Oh! Mother, I don't want to go down town," answered Johnnie Jones, "because I think Sammy Smith is coming over to play with my new engine this afternoon."
"But what will you do when the weather grows cold and you have no warm coat to wear? I shall be too busy to go with you to-morrow."
"It's so warm to-day, Mother, I don't think it will grow cold very soon, and anyway, I don't want to go down town."
Mother answered: "I know it will be cold soon, perhaps to-morrow, for the wind is beginning to blow from the north. Come as soon as you can, I have much to do and can't wait for you very long."
Then Johnnie Jones behaved like a silly little boy, although he was four years old, quite old enough to know better. He fussed and fumed until Mother said: "I am sorry, but I can't wait any longer." She went on down town and left Johnnie Jones.
Sammy Smith did not come over to play after all, because he had gone shopping with his mother. Johnnie Jones soon grew tired of playing alone and wished he had not been so foolish.
That night the north wind blew and blew, so that, next morning, it was very cold when Johnnie Jones awoke. Of course he could not go to kindergarten nor out to play, because he had no heavy coat to wear. He begged his mother to wrap him in a shawl, and take him down town in the carriage, but she was too busy. So poor little Johnnie Jones had to stay in the house all day.
That evening when it was time for his story, Mother said: "I shall have to tell you the story of the foolish squirrel, because you reminded me of him to-day."
This is the story.
Once upon a time, there lived in the woods a little squirrel whose name was Silver. All summer long he played about with the other squirrels and had a very good time indeed. Then, by and by, the days began to grow shorter and cooler. The trees began to drop their brightly colored leaves and their nuts, and the soft green grass turned brown. The wise old mother squirrels knew what these things meant, and they said to all the young ones:
"Winter is coming, so hurry away, You have no longer time to play. Gather the nuts with all your might Before the ground with snow is white. When winter comes there's naught to eat Except the roots and nuts so sweet, Which you must gather in the fall. So frisk away and store them all."
The squirrels, large and small, went to work. They found holes in the trees and old logs in which to hide their winter provisions, and they scampered away to find their favorite food.
All except little Silver. He said to himself: "Humph! I don't believe winter is coming so very soon, and besides, I'd rather just play, and eat the nuts, than work as these other squirrels are doing."
So he played as he had all summer long, and he kept so warm frisking about in the sunshine that he did not realize how short and cold the days were growing.
At last winter really came. Oh! how cold it was then. Silver said: "Perhaps I had better begin gathering some nuts for winter." But very few nuts could he find, not nearly enough to store away. The other squirrels, and the people who lived near the woods, had been working while he was playing, and had gathered in the harvest.
Poor little Silver did not know what to do. Winter was here and he had no provisions. He went to all the other squirrels and begged for some of their nuts. They only said: "You were playing while we were working, now you must work while we rest and eat."
Then Silver was sorry he had not obeyed the wise old squirrels and he told himself that, next year, he would surely begin early to prepare for winter. But there might not have been a "next year" for Silver, if a little boy had not found him in the woods and taken him home to keep and feed until the spring-time.
* * * * *
Johnnie Jones and the Peach Preserves
Everyone knows that people prepare for winter during the summer and fall. (Bees and squirrels and caterpillars do, too.) Almost everybody lays in the coal and kindling wood for the winter fires while the weather is still warm, and buys warm clothing before it is time to wear it.
In the summer, farmers cut the long grass, and after it has been dried by the sun, store it in the barns for the cows and horses to eat in the winter. In the summer and the autumn, people do not eat all the berries, and grapes, and pears and peaches; some they make into preserves and jelly for the winter.
Mrs. Jones could make delicious preserves. She enjoyed making it and Johnnie Jones liked to help her. He could really help a great deal because he was a careful little boy. Every member of the Jones family liked peach preserves better than any other kind, therefore Mother usually made enough of it to fill many jars. This year, however, she had been so busy that she did not start her preserving very early, and when she was ready to begin, she found it was too late to buy many good peaches. She bought a few, though, and preserved them with Johnnie Jones's help.
When the preserves was made. Mother had enough to fill four glass jars. "Not very much," she told Johnnie Jones, "but there is one jar for Father, one for you and one for me, and then one more for company." She left the jars on the kitchen table while she went upstairs to change her dress.
Johnnie Jones ran out into the yard to play. He saw Sammy Smith, Elizabeth, and Ned across the street, and called them. "I want to show you something," he said.
When they came, he led them to the kitchen and showed them the preserves.
"I should like to have some of it," said Ned,--"may I?"
"We made it to use in the winter," Johnnie Jones explained, "when there isn't any fresh fruit."
"I'd like some now on a piece of bread." Ned insisted.
"You said one jar of preserves was yours; give us each a taste," begged Sammy Smith.
"I don't think Mother meant that I might eat it whenever I wanted it," Johnnie Jones answered. "But perhaps she wouldn't care if we should each take a taste," he added.
Now Johnnie Jones knew he was not allowed to eat between meals, but the preserves did have an attractive appearance, and he thought that just one taste would not matter.
The top of the jar had not yet been sealed, so it came off very easily. Johnnie Jones gave a piece of bread, with a very little of the preserves, to each child, and took some for himself.
"It is good!" Ned exclaimed. "Give us some more, Johnnie Jones, your mother won't care."
Johnnie Jones was afraid Mother would care, but he liked the preserves very much, and besides, he enjoyed giving it to the children, so he gave them each a little more and again took some for himself. It was curious that the more they had the more they wanted, and after each one had been given "just a little more," several times, the large jar was nearly empty.
"We may as well finish it," said Ned, So they did. Then the children went home and left Johnnie Jones alone in the kitchen with the empty jar.
Johnnie Jones was unable to eat his supper that evening. Mother asked him what was the matter, and he told her. She was very sorry.
"Oh! little son," she said, "all your life I have been able to trust you, and I did not think you would touch the preserves, when I left the jars on the table. Say you are sorry, dear, and that such a thing shall never happen again. For wouldn't it be dreadful if I should be obliged to lock up everything I can't let you have?"
Johnnie Jones was very sorry indeed, but he answered: "You said that one jar was mine."
"So I did," Mother answered; "but I had no idea that you would want to use it all at one time, or between meals, or before the winter-time. Since you have had all your share to-day, you will, of course, expect no more next winter, when Father and I have ours."
Just then, Johnnie Jones thought he would never wish for peach preserves again, for he had eaten too much and felt uncomfortable; but probably he changed his mind in the winter, and regretted that his share was all gone.
Sammy Smith, Elizabeth and Ned came to see Mrs. Jones next day, told her they were sorry they had begged for the preserves, and asked her to excuse them, which of course she did.
Mother was glad to find that it would be unnecessary to lock up forbidden things after all, for Johnnie Jones liked to have her trust him, and showed her that she could.
* * * * *
How the Children Helped Tom and Sarah
Most of the houses on Park street, where the Jones family lived, were large and pretty, but there was one house that was very small and ugly. It had been unoccupied for a long time, when one day, Sarah and Tom Watson, with their father and mother, moved in. The little brother and sister were such agreeable children, that they were soon known and loved by all their small neighbors.
One morning, when Johnnie Jones was passing the ugly little house, he saw Sarah and Tom standing at the gate with an unhappy expression on their faces, usually so bright. Johnnie Jones stopped and asked them what was the trouble.
"We don't know what to do," answered Tom. "A friend of Father's promised to send him a load of coal to-day. It may come any minute and Father is too busy to put it into the coal-house. Mother can't attend to it because she must finish some sewing for a lady, so there is no one but Sarah and me. We are afraid we can't put it all away before night, and if it isn't locked up in the coal-house this evening, something may happen to it while we are asleep, and then we shouldn't have any coal to keep us warm in the winter."
"Why don't you hire a man to put it away for you?" asked Johnnie Jones.
"We haven't money enough," Tom answered.
"I'd better go home and ask my mother what to do. She'll know," said Johnnie Jones.
"Well," Mother said, when she had heard of the children's difficulty, "Sarah and Tom need friends to help them, so why don't you, in your overalls, and Ned, Susie, and the other children in theirs, take your wagons and wheelbarrows, and spend the afternoon helping with the coal? A dozen pairs of hands, even if they are small, can accomplish a great deal of work."
Mother sent her hired man to see that the coal-house was ready for the coal, while Johnnie Jones hurried off to collect the children.
The boys and girls dressed in their overalls hastened to the small brown house. There they found Sarah and Tom as busy as bees, and very happy to welcome the children gathered to help them. Such a merry time as they had! Some of the children played that they were strong horses, and drew the wagons, which the others loaded at the gate and unloaded at the coal-house door. Very soon the play drivers looked like real drivers of coal-carts for they were covered with coal-soot from their heads to their feet. All of the children, too, worked quite as hard as any real horses, or any real men, and after a while, before dark, the load of coal was safe in the coal-house. Then the children ran home for a much-needed bath.
Meantime Mrs. Watson had been sewing all the day long, and in the evening, when it was time to go home, she felt very tired. All day she had worried about the coal, wondering how she could attend to it that night. She knew that her children would try to help, but she did not expect very much from them because their hands were so small. As she walked home she thought, and thought, trying to decide what was best to do.
At last she came near the ugly little house, and then she was greatly surprised, for Sarah and Tom, neat and clean, were swinging on the gate, the pavement was nicely swept, and there was no sign of any coal.
"Didn't the coal come?" she asked the children.
"Yes," they answered joyfully, "and it is in the coal-house."
She could scarcely believe them, but they said: "Come and see."
When she saw that the coal was really there, locked away for the winter in the shed, she was almost too surprised and pleased to speak.
At last she asked the delighted children whether the fairies had come to their aid. "No," they answered, "but all the children in the neighborhood did, and we had such a good time that it was almost the same as giving a party."
"The children were very kind," Mrs. Watson said, when she had heard all about the happy afternoon. "We could not have managed the coal without their assistance, and some day we must try to help them."
* * * * *
Johnnie Jones's Story of the Stars
The stars were just beginning to show themselves in the dark blue sky, when Mother and Johnnie Jones sat down by the window to watch for Father. Mother and Johnnie Jones loved the stars. Almost every evening they sat and looked up at them. Sometimes they tried to count them, but they never could, because there were so very many. Often, too, they could see the bright, round moon. Johnnie Jones said that a queer, fat little man lived in the moon, who winked and bowed whenever little boys looked at him. To be polite, Johnnie Jones always returned the winks and bows. But this night there was no moon, just the little stars were appearing, and twinkling as fast as they could.
"Mother," said Johnnie Jones, "I'll tell you a story all my own, about the shining stars."
"I'd like very much to hear it," Mother answered.
"Once upon a time, oh! such a very long time ago that it must have been before you were born, Mother dear, all the stars fell down from the sky. I think it was the wind that blew and blew until they became loose. They fell down whirling and twirling just like the snow flakes, except that they weren't cold and white, but all bright and shining. They were so beautiful that the people looked out of their windows and wished the stars would never stop raining down from the sky."
"Is that all the story?" asked Mother, much interested.
"No, there is another part," said Johnnie Jones. "When all the stars had fallen down to the ground, what do you suppose they really were?"
"I can't imagine," Mother answered.
"Why, Mother, they were beautiful little flowers all different colors. Some were red, some were yellow, and some were purple violets. They began to grow, and nobody gathered any, for they were so pretty there on the ground."
"But," asked Mother, "when it was night time again, what did the poor people do without any stars to shine in the sky?"
"Don't you see," Johnnie Jones explained, "when the stars fell down they left little holes in the sky, and the light behind shone through and seemed just like the stars."
"I think that is a beautiful story," and Mother thanked him with a kiss, before they ran down-stairs to meet Father coming home.
* * * * *
Johnnie Jones and Jack
One day, when Johnnie Jones was playing in his front yard, he heard the yelping of a dog. He ran to the gate, and saw, lying in the street, a poor little puppy which had been hurt by a wagon, or perhaps, an automobile.
"You may come home with me, you poor little thing," Johnnie Jones told the dog. "My mother will rub salve on you and make you well. Come on."
But the poor little puppy couldn't walk. Johnnie Jones picked him up, and attempted to carry him to the house. The puppy was so heavy, however, that Johnnie Jones was obliged to put him down and take him up again, three times, before he reached the side door. He called to Mother to come down.
"But, little son," she said, "we can't keep a strange dog. We shall have to let him run away."
"Oh, Mother, he's hurt, and I am sure he's hungry, so don't you think we shall have to keep him?"
Of course, as soon as Mother understood that the puppy was hurt, she knew that it would be necessary to keep him, at least until he was well again. She examined the little fellow and found that he was not badly injured, but was merely bruised and frightened. She and Johnnie Jones bathed and bandaged the poor little body, and when the puppy seemed to feel more comfortable, gave him a bowl of milk. He could not say "Thank you," but he wagged his tail, and kissed their hands, which meant "Thank you," so they agreed that he was a polite little dog,
"But where shall we keep him?" asked Mother. "I can't allow him in the house, he would gnaw the legs of the chairs and tables; all puppies do when they are cutting their teeth."
"Perhaps Father and I can build a doghouse," Johnnie Jones answered, and when Father came home they talked it over.
"Well," Father decided, "If the grocery man will give us a large box, we can line it, fill it with straw, and I'll cut a door in one end. That should make an excellent house for Mr. Doggie."
Johnnie Jones ran to the grocery-store as fast as he could run, and asked the grocery man to send down a large box. As soon as it came, Father cut the door, Johnnie Jones arranged the straw, and there was the house all ready for the dog.
Johnnie Jones named him Jack. Jack soon became well and strong, and because he was such a good dog, and because his owner could not be found, he was allowed to remain at Johnnie Jones's house. He wasn't a puppy very long. He grew and grew, until he was too large for his box, and had to sleep in the front hall of the Jones's house. He and Johnnie Jones loved each other dearly, and were almost always together. Mother used to say that they reminded her of Mary and her lamb, except that Jack was as black as coal.
You remember how Mary's lamb followed her to school one day, which was against the rule? Well, it was necessary to keep Jack in the closet every morning, until after Johnnie Jones had gone to kindergarten, because he always wanted to go with him. One morning the door was not fastened securely, and Jack was able to push it open. Then, before any one saw him, he ran out the gate, and followed Johnnie Jones. The little boy did not see him and did not know that Jack was just behind him as he entered the kindergarten room, until the children began to laugh and he turned around to see what was the matter. There stood Jack, wagging his tail with all his might.
The children begged Miss Page, the teacher, to let Jack spend the morning in kindergarten, and she said that she would try him. She was afraid, however, that he would not know how to behave. Johnnie Jones was a trifle late that morning, and the children were all ready to march to the circle. Jack followed his master as he marched to his place, and then sat down on the floor beside the little boy's chair.
Miss Page asked the children which one of them would like to stand in the centre of the circle and shake hands with the others, in turn, as they sang the good-morning song.
"Let Jack," said Johnnie Jones, "he can shake hands as well as anybody, and he is a visitor to-day."
Miss Page consented, and Johnnie Jones called Jack to the circle and offered him his hand. Jack at once gave him his paw. One by one the children came and shook Jack's paw. Everyone considered it great fun, and Jack enjoyed it also, though he could not laugh as the children did.
As soon as all the good-mornings had been sung, Miss Page started a game of ball. Now there was nothing that Jack liked better than playing with a ball, so he ran out on the circle barking, and jumped up on the boy who had the ball in his hand. The boy became frightened, not understanding what Jack wanted, and let the ball fall and roll away. Jack rushed after it, knocking down chairs and tables, spilling the blocks out of their boxes, and tearing paper chains to bits. At last he caught the ball in his mouth, brought it to Johnnie Jones, and began to jump and bark, begging the little boy to throw it.
Miss Page said that she was sorry, but Jack would have to go home. "He is a very good dog," she said, "but he does not behave well in kindergarten."
At that moment Sam, the hired man, came into the room. Mrs. Jones had missed Jack and sent Sam to find him. Jack was having a pleasant time and did not want to go home, but he knew how to obey, and, when Johnnie Jones commanded him to "go home," he turned slowly and walked out of the room.
So you see, Jack was turned out by the teacher, just as was Mary's lamb.
One bright day, when the ground was covered with snow, Father took Johnnie Jones for a ride on his sled. They had been around the block only twice when the clock struck two, and then it was time for Father to go to his office.
"Oh! dear," said Johnnie Jones, "now I'll have no one to pull my sled. I wish Jack could."
"Perhaps he can," Father answered. "When I come home to-night I'll make some sort of a harness for him, and then to-morrow we shall see what he can do."
That evening, with rope, straps, and Johnnie Jones's reins Father made a very good harness, and the next day he hitched Jack to the sled. At first Jack could not imagine what Father and Johnnie Jones wished him to do. He allowed himself to be hitched to the sled, but every time Johnnie Jones sat upon it, and said "Get up," Jack would jump about, and off would roll Johnnie Jones into the snow. Then Jack would bark as much as to say, "What are you trying to do, anyway?"
At last, after many trials, Father managed to hold Jack quiet until Johnnie Jones was seated firmly on the sled, clasping a side with each hand. Then Father, still keeping a tight hold of Jack, ran with him to the corner and back several times. At last Jack began to understand what was expected of him. The next day they tried again, and it was not long before Johnnie Jones could drive the big dog without Father's help. After a while Jack would even pull Johnnie Jones's sled to kindergarten each morning, and then draw the empty sled home, after Johnnie Jones had gone into the house. He certainly was a clever dog. It was no wonder Johnnie Jones loved him.
In the winter-time there was an excellent place for coasting in the park very near Johnnie Jones's house. There was a long, straight hill, and at the foot of it a long, straight pond, so that, with a good start, a child could coast from the top of the hill to the end of the pond. That is, of course, when there was snow and the pond was frozen over at the same time.
One afternoon Johnnie Jones started out with his sled and Jack ran along beside him.
"Don't try to coast across the pond to-day," called Father. "When I was passing I noticed that the ice was broken in several places."
"Then I'll coast on the other side of the hill," Johnnie Jones answered.
When he reached the park, however, he found two of the children coasting across the pond as usual. One of them, whose name was Ned, asked Johnnie Jones: "What's the matter with everybody to-day? Where are the other children?"
"I suppose their fathers wouldn't let them come," answered Johnnie Jones; "and you shouldn't coast across the pond. My father just told me that it isn't safe, because the ice is beginning to break."
"Oh! it is perfectly safe," Ned replied, "because we have been over it several times. The coasting is better fun to-day than ever before, and there are no children to block the way. Come and try it."
"I wish I might," Johnnie Jones answered. He sat on his sled and watched the older boys coast safely across, and run gaily back, waving their hands to him.
"Perhaps my father was mistaken." he said after a while. "I think I'll try it just once."
"There is one tolerably large hole," Ned warned him, "but it is on one side, and if you are careful you won't fall in."
"I'll be careful," answered Johnnie Jones; "you sit here and watch me."
He placed himself flat on his sled, and Ned gave him a push. Johnnie Jones was not quite five years old then, two years younger than Ned, and he could not guide his sled very well. When it went near the big hole, he could not turn it away. Then splash! Both Johnnie Jones and the sled plunged into the icy cold water.