Chapter 3
The water was not very deep, but as Johnnie Jones struck it head foremost, and as the sled was on top of him, he might have found some trouble in forcing his way out, had it not been for Jack. That faithful friend was close beside his little master, and in just a few seconds had drawn him out of the water.
As soon as Ned and Sammy Smith saw what had happened, they hurried to the house and told Mr. Jones. He ran all the way to the pond, picked up the little wet, cold boy, and carried him home as quickly as possible.
Jack was wet and cold too, but he ran around so fast that he soon grew warm, then he crawled under the kitchen stove, where he stopped until he was dry. But Johnnie Jones had to go to bed, for several days, with a very bad cold.
He was sorry he had been disobedient, and asked Father please to excuse him that time. Father said he would not punish him, but that he was sorry to think his little boy did not trust his father.
"I do, Father," Johnnie Jones answered, "and after this I'll obey you, instead of minding little boys."
"Grown people generally know best," Father said.
After that, of course, Mother, Father and Johnnie Jones loved good old Jack more than ever, and were glad they had kept him when he first came to them a puppy, hurt and hungry.
* * * * *
Stiggins
Johnnie Jones's Aunt Jean owned a dog. His name was Stiggins, just Stiggins, for dogs need only one name, instead of the two or three that people have. Aunt Jean was accustomed to go to Lake Chautauqua every summer, far away from home. Stiggins liked to go with her, and was always afraid that he might be left behind, as had happened, once or twice. So, as soon as he saw Aunt Jean begin to make her preparations, he would spend all his time either following her about, or lying on her trunk.
Each time she started to pack she would first have to drive Stiggins into the yard. If she turned away, just for a few minutes, there he would be again, lying in a tray upon her best dresses, or her prettiest hats. Aunt Jean would scold and scold, but scolding was of no use.
At last, when the day came on which they were to begin their journey, and the trunks had been locked and sent away, Stiggins would run to the stable, jump into the carriage, and there he would stay until he and the family had reached the station.
But when it was time to board the train, Stiggins was most unhappy. He was forced to ride in the baggage car, all alone, and Stiggins liked company. He wished to ride in the sleeping car with Aunt Jean. Of course he could not, because he was only a dog, which was something that Stiggins had never quite understood. He would whimper, and run away, when the coachman attempted to lead him to his proper place, so usually, Aunt Jean had to take him, and to tie him, herself.
Stiggins disliked the long ride on the train and boat, but he was just the happiest dog in the world when at last he reached Chautauqua. When once he was there he had many fine times, bathing in the Lake, going off on long walks and drives with the family, and playing with the dogs.
The house in which Aunt Jean lived was very near the lake, and Stiggins liked to lie on the front porch and watch the children at play by the water's edge. One day, Harry and Sally were there with a small sail-boat attached to a string, which Harry held, as the boat sailed out on the water. Suddenly the string broke, and then there was nothing with which to draw the boat to land.
The children were quite small and did not know what to do. They asked a big boy to wade out and return the boat to them, but he was a lazy boy and told them to throw stones beyond the boat to make it come back of itself. They tried his plan, but were not strong enough to throw the stones very far, and the boat only floated further away.
All this time Stiggins had been lying on the porch watching the children. I am not sure whether he thought they were throwing stones for him to swim after, or whether he saw they were in trouble and wished to help them, but this is what he did. Without a word from anyone, he jumped up, trotted down to the water and waded in. The children and the big boy wondered what he meant to do. Stiggins himself seemed to know very well. He swam straight to the boat, caught it in his mouth, brought it to land, and dropped it at the children's feet. Then he trotted back to the porch.
Harry and Sally thought that Stiggins was the kindest and most polite dog they had ever seen, and the big boy was ashamed, because he thought that a dog had been kinder and more polite than he.
This story is as true as true can be. I know, because Aunt Jean saw the whole affair and she told me about it herself.
* * * * *
When Johnnie Jones was a Santa Claus
"I should think it would be exciting to be Santa Claus," said Johnnie Jones, "and fill children's stockings when they are asleep in bed. I should like very well to be his helper some time."
"You may be," Mother answered; "anyone who really wishes to be Santa's assistant, may be."
Johnnie Jones was surprised. "Well, I didn't know that," he said. "Please tell me how."
"Whenever people give Christmas presents to those they love, they are a sort of Santa Claus," Mother told him. "But this year you may be a real Santa Claus, if you like, with a real pack of toys, and you may fill some real stockings belonging to some real children, this coming Christmas Eve."
"Oh! Mother dear, tell me all about it, quick as a wink," begged Johnnie Jones, clapping his hands with delight.
"I thought you would be pleased," Mother answered. "Father knows of a large house in which ever so many children live who have never hung up their stockings. I suppose no one has thought to tell Santa Claus about them, and their fathers and mothers are very poor. Father and I want to make them have a bright, happy Christmas this year, and he has told them, each one, to be sure to hang up stockings on Christmas Eve for a Santa Claus to fill. If you like, you may be that Santa, and Father and I will be your assistants, and we'll go, all three of us, to the house at night when the children are fast asleep."
Johnnie Jones skipped joyfully about the room. "Shall we go in a sleigh with bells and reindeer?" he asked.
"We'll go in a sleigh if there is snow," Mother promised, "but I am afraid we shall have to use horses, and pretend they are reindeer."
Johnnie Jones was greatly excited. He asked Mother every question he could think of, and wished it were Christmas Eve that very minute. Mother told him be should be glad they still had several days before Christmas in which to make their preparations.
That same afternoon they went shopping. Johnnie Jones was allowed to select the toys for the children, and he chose enough drums and horses, wagons and cars, dolls and play-houses, dishes and tables, to fill four very large boxes. Next, they ordered the candy, pounds and pounds of it, and a big tree with ever so many candles for it. Last of all, they bought warm coats and shoes.
The next three days was a busy time for Johnnie Jones. After he had finished his gifts for the family, he went to work on the decorations for the tree. He made yards and yards of brightly colored paper chains, and many cornucopias. Every evening before his bed-time Mother and Father helped him.
At last the day before Christmas came. When Johnnie Jones awoke in the morning he was very much pleased to find the ground covered with snow. It was hard to wait until night, but he was busy all day, and the time passes quickly when one is busy.
After a very early supper Father, Mother and Johnnie Jones dressed themselves in their warmest clothing and heaviest wraps. By the time they were ready, there was the sleigh, drawn by two strong horses wearing many bells, standing before the house. It was quite a while before the toys, and candy, and ornaments, were safely packed in the sleigh, but at last all was in readiness, and away they went.
After a long, beautiful ride over the hard snow, with the moon and stars shining up in the sky, they reached the big house.
"Are all the children asleep?" Father asked two men who were waiting for them at the door.
The men answered yes, and Father whispered to Johnnie Jones: "We must be very quiet, Santa Claus, that we may not waken anybody."
They tiptoed carefully into the first room where several children were asleep in their beds.
"I see the stockings," whispered Johnnie Jones eagerly. "Give me my sack."
Father placed the heavy sack on the floor, and the little Santa and Mother filled the stockings with candy and nuts, oranges and tiny toys. As soon as Father had set up the tree in an empty room, he came back to help. It was the best kind of fun, but they had to be very quiet in order not to waken the children. Once Johnnie Jones couldn't help laughing aloud when a ridiculous old Jack popped out of the box in his hand. The laugh awoke a little boy, who sat up in bed and called out, "Hello! Is that you, Santa Claus?" They had to leave the room until he fell asleep again.
When all the stockings had been filled, the tree decorated, and the presents arranged under it, Father locked the door of that room so that no one should peep in before it was time. Little Santa Claus was so tired that he went to sleep in Father's arms on the way home, and when he was being carried to bed awoke only long enough to hang his own stocking by the fire-place.
The next morning he opened his eyes very early, as is the custom of children on Christmas Day. He looked for his stocking, first of all, wondering if Santa had filled it. Of course he had, with all the things that little boys like best.
Johnnie Jones was so happy over his presents, that he could scarcely take time to dress. At last Mother reminded him of those other children waiting so anxiously for their first Christmas tree. Johnnie Jones laid down his new toys immediately, and dressed himself as quickly as possible. Directly after breakfast they returned to the big house, this time on the street car.
Before they turned the corner on their way to the house, they heard the voices of the children, who were full of joy over the presents found in their stockings. Father went at once to the room he had locked up the night before, and lighted the candles on the tree. When all was ready he opened the door, and Johnnie Jones invited the children to enter.
They stood very quietly about the tree, not saying a word at first. It was so beautiful, and so different from anything they had ever seen, that it made them feel shy. But when Father called the children in turn, and Johnnie Jones gave to every one a warm coat, a new pair of shoes, and a splendid toy, they found their tongues, and made such a noise as you never heard.
They had to dress themselves in the coats and shoes, and they had to show each other their toys. Some of them had to turn somersaults, and all of them had to make a great noise just to express their joy.
But happiest of all those happy children was little Johnnie Jones.
All too soon, Father, Mother and Johnnie Jones had to leave, so that they might reach Grandmother's house in time for dinner. When they were again on the car, the little boy began to talk of the good time they had had.
"I'd like to be a Santa Claus every year," he said.
"Then save your pennies," Mother answered, "until next Christmas comes."
* * * * *
An Original Valentine
Tom and Sarah were the little boy and girl who lived in the small brown house near the home of Johnnie Jones. It was the evening before St. Valentine's day and the brother and sister were sitting by the fire, talking together.
"I do wish we had some valentines to send," said Tom. "If we only had some gilt or colored paper and some pictures, we could make them, but we haven't anything at all."
"I am sorry," their mother told them. "The children have been so kind to you this winter. You remember how they helped you with the coal? I wish we could send them each a very beautiful valentine to thank them, but I am afraid I can't spare the money to buy even one."
Sarah had been as quiet as a little mouse while Tom and Mother were speaking. Then suddenly she said: "I know what we can do!"
"What?" asked Tom.
Sarah began to dance about the room. "It will be such fun!" she said.
"Please tell me," begged Tom.
"Don't you see," Sarah explained; "we can't buy valentines, and we can't make valentines, so we shall just have to be valentines!"
"Now how in the world can we be valentines?" Tom asked her.
"We'll dress in our Sunday clothes," she answered. "We'll cut hearts out of paper and pin them all over us. Then we'll ask Mother to pin a paper envelope on each of us, and address it to one of the children. When we are ready we'll ring the door bell of that child's house, and when he opens the door, we'll speak mottoes, and all sorts of rhymes. Won't the children laugh?"
"All right!" said Tom. "Only, I would rather not be a valentine myself. You be one and I will send you. We'll pretend you are the doll valentine we saw down town the other day, the one that danced when the man wound her up, and spoke the verse."
"Well!" Sarah assented, "and you must wind me up and I'll dance little Sally Waters."
They spent the rest of the evening thinking of rhymes. Their mother taught them all she could remember, and Sarah repeated them over and over again so that she should not forget.
The next morning they went to school, but as soon as they had reached home and eaten their lunch they began their preparations. No one in the whole world ever saw a sweeter valentine than Sarah, when she was ready in her bright red dress and short snow-white coat, decorated with paper hearts. Then her mother cut and folded some wrapping paper into a big envelope, and placed it about Sarah's little body. Of course her feet had to be left free so that she could walk, and her head, so that she could breathe.
"Let's go to Johnnie Jones's house first," Tom said.
So his mother addressed the envelope to Master Johnnie Jones, and the children started off.
Johnnie Jones was at home that afternoon, feeling very sad. He had fallen into the pond several days before, and the icy bath had given him such a cold that he had to stay indoors. He could see the other children running about from house to house sending their valentines, and he wanted to run about and send some too. To be sure he had received ever so many, but he was tired of looking at them and hearing the mottoes read, and he wished very much that some one would come in to play with him.
Mother had just said: "I am afraid no one will come to-day, dear, because all the children are busy with their valentines," when the door bell rang.
As soon as Maggie had opened the door she called up to Johnnie Jones: "There's a beautiful valentine down here for you. I'll bring it up. Tom sent it. I caught him at the door, so I'll bring him up, too."
Johnnie Jones ran to the head of the staircase as fast as he could run. How he did laugh when Maggie placed Sarah before him, and showed him the address on the envelope.
"It's a doll valentine," Tom explained, "and it has a phonograph in it. I'll wind it up."
He knelt down and pretended to turn a crank. Then Sarah, who had not smiled or spoken a word before, said:
"If you love me as I love you, No knife can cut our love in two."
Tom turned the crank again, and this time she danced.
"Let me wind it," begged Johnnie Jones, who was very much pleased. He did, and the valentine said:
"Roses red and violets blue, Sugar is sweet and so are you."
Mother joined the children in the hall, and was delighted with the valentine, which each one wound up until it had said all the rhymes that Sarah knew, and had danced until she was tired. Then the doll changed into a little girl for a while, and she had some milk and cookies with the other children.
"We shall have to go now," Tom said at last, looking out of the window. "The other children have gone into their houses and I must send them each a valentine."
So Mother made a new envelope and addressed it to Miss Elizabeth Elkins.
"Thank you for my valentine," said Johnnie Jones. "It's the loveliest one I have had all day, only I wish I could keep it as I can the others."
All the children who received the little Valentine in turn, made exactly the same remark, so Tom and Sarah were very happy over the success of their plan.
* * * * *
When Johnnie Jones was a Cry-Baby
All his life Johnnie Jones had been a bright, happy little fellow who seldom cried even when he was hurt. Therefore, everyone who knew him was surprised when suddenly, just before he was five years old, he became a cry-baby.
The trouble began with some of the older boys in the neighborhood. There were three of them who were several years older than Johnnie Jones, and a year older than the other children. Lately these big boys had commenced to tease the smaller ones, and especially Johnnie Jones. They did not intend to be unkind, but would often make him cry by rolling him off his sled, pelting him with snowballs, or calling him nicknames.
Of course, there was no reason for crying, since, although the boys were rather rough, they never really hurt Johnnie Jones. Indeed, they loved him, and were only in fun when they teased him. If Johnnie Jones had been brave enough to laugh at them he would soon have been left in peace; but as he always cried instead, the boys began to call him "crybaby."
Johnnie Jones soon formed the bad habit of crying about every little thing that did not please him, until at last it was difficult to live with him. His father and mother were greatly distressed, and tried in every way to help Johnnie Jones. They told him that they were ashamed to have a cry-baby for a son, but that only made him cry more than ever.
Finally Mother said that something must be done, for Johnnie Jones had reached the point where he was almost always crying. He would come home crying from kindergarten, he would come in from play with tears in his eyes, and worst of all, every few minutes, he would find some excuse for crying at home.
"I think he must be ill," Mother said to Father, one day, "and I am so worried that I shall take him to the doctor."
Father agreed, so in the afternoon, Mother and Johnnie Jones paid Dr. Smith a visit in his office.
Dr. Smith was a great friend of Johnnie Jones's and was sorry to hear of the crying spells. He examined the little boy very carefully, but could find nothing wrong with him. Then he said that he was sure Johnnie Jones was not ill, and that he cried so often just because he had formed a bad habit.
"It is a very disagreeable habit," he continued, "and I know you want to overcome it, so I'll write you a prescription for some medicine. Doctors usually do not prescribe for people unless they are ill, but I think if you take a spoonful of this medicine every time you cry, you will soon be cured of the habit. You try it, anyway."
He gave the prescription to Mother, who, after thanking him, left the office with Johnnie Jones. On the way home they stopped at the drug-store and bought the medicine, which mother took into the house with her, while Johnnie Jones ran out to play.
There wasn't a child in that neighborhood who was not fond of Johnnie Jones, but since he had become a cry-baby none of them cared to play with him, because he would often spoil the best game by stopping to cry. No one enjoys playing with a tearful boy or girl.
All the children were playing in the snow when Johnnie Jones joined them. They had built a snow fort, which half of the children were trying to destroy with snowballs, and which half were defending. They were having the merriest sort of a time. Occasionally some one would be struck by a ball, but he would just laugh and send back another, for it was all in fun.
Johnnie Jones began to play, too, and was enjoying himself very much, when unfortunately a stray ball struck his cheek. It did hurt, but not nearly enough to cry about, for all the balls were soft. Johnnie Jones, however, began to cry, called the children "unkind," which was foolish, and ran away home.
As soon as he entered the house, Mother gave him some of the medicine. Never was anyone more surprised than Johnnie Jones, when he tasted it! The only other medicine he had ever taken had been sweet, but this was dreadfully bitter. He had no sooner swallowed it than he began to cry again. Mother immediately poured more of it from the bottle.
"I won't take any more," Johnnie Jones, said between his sobs, "it is bad medicine."
"Yes, indeed," Mother told him, "you must take it every time you cry, just as the doctor said, because we can't continue to have a cry-baby in the house. You must take another dose now unless you can stop crying without it."
"I'll stop," said Johnnie Jones, and he did.
Mother poured some of the medicine into another bottle to send to Miss Page at kindergarten, and then placed the rest on the mantel where Johnnie Jones could see it.
It was remarkable how quickly the little boy was cured of his bad habit. After he had taken but three doses of the bitter medicine he learned to stop and think when anything failed to please him. Then, instead of allowing himself to cry, he would often manage to laugh, which was much more sensible, and much pleasanter for the people near him. Soon he began to realize what a foolish little boy he had been, and at last he made up his mind to be, instead of a cry-baby, a big, brave boy. And that is what he was, all the rest of his life, bright and sweet and brave, so that everyone loved to be with him, grown folks as well as the children.
* * * * *
Johnnie Jones and the Man Who Cried "Wolf" too Often
Some time passed by before people began to realize that Johnnie Jones was no longer a cry-baby. On that account he had a very unpleasant experience one day.
The children were playing horse on the sidewalk, and Johnnie Jones as one of the horses, was being driven by Sammy Smith. All went well until they reached a rough place in the pavement. Here Johnnie Jones tripped and fell, scraping his leg against a sharp stone, and straining and bruising his arm quite badly. It happened so quickly that none of the children saw that he was hurt, and so did not pity him when he began to cry. They were so accustomed to hear him cry over every little trouble, that they thought nothing of his crying then. If they had known he was really hurt, they would have been kind and helped him up. As it was, they merely told him not to be such a cry-baby and ran off and left him.
Just then Father came by on his way home, and when he saw Johnnie Jones leaning against the fence, crying, he thought, too, that the little boy had become a cry-baby again. If he had seen Johnnie Jones fall, he would have picked him up and carried him home in his arms; but not knowing that the little boy was really hurt, he took hold of his hand, and walked home with him. Johnnie Jones was trying his best not to cry, but I think the bravest boy in the world might not have been able to keep back the tears, with such a sore leg and arm.
As they entered the house, Mother said: "Oh little son! crying again?"
When she had heard of the accident, she told Johnnie Jones that she was sorry, and would try to help him after lunch. But as soon as she saw that he could eat nothing at all, she asked Father to carry him upstairs, where she examined the injured leg and arm. When she found them so badly scraped and bruised, she was greatly distressed.
"You poor little boy!" she exclaimed, "No one realized that you were really in pain."
After she had bathed and bandaged the leg and arm, and made Johnnie Jones comfortable, she brought his lunch up to him, and while he was eating, told him this story: