Part 1

Chapter 13,299 wordsPublic domain

Produced by David Edwards, Wayne Hammond and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)

Artful Anticks

By Oliver Herford

New York The Century Co. 1901

THE DE VINNE PRESS.

Table of Contents.

PAGE

THE AUDACIOUS KITTEN 1

THE ARTFUL ANT 4

THE GIFTED ANT 10

SIR RAT. A Comedy 16

THE DECEITFUL DORMICE 22

NATURE AND ART 24

THE GEOMETRICAL GIRAFFE 25

THE EARLY OWL 32

A DARK CAREER 35

A PACKET OF LETTERS 37

THE NAUGHTY FAY 43

THE MILLER’S QUEST 46

NELL’S FAIRY TALE 50

THE UNFORTUNATE GIRAFFE 52

STOCKINGS OR SCALES 53

A RIDDLE 54

GOOD-BYE 56

THE PROFESSOR AND THE WHITE VIOLET 58

THE FIRST ROSE OF SUMMER 60

THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE 62

THE CROCODILE 64

THE FORGETFUL FORGET-ME-NOT 69

THE BIRDS’ FAREWELL 72

THE SPIDER’S TALE 73

HIGHLY CONNECTED 78

THE MISER ELF 79

THE POINT OF VIEW 84

HEROES 88

A BELATED VIOLET 89

THE PARROT AND THE CUCKOO 92

THE ELF AND THE BEE 96

A FABLE 97

THE FAIRIES’ CONCERT 98

The pictures in “The Point of View” are used by permission of Messrs. Harper and Brothers.

Artful Anticks

The Audacious Kitten.

“Hurray!” cried the kitten, “Hurray!” As he merrily set the sails; “I sail o’er the ocean to-day To look at the Prince of Wales!”

“O kitten! O kitten!” I cried, “Why tempt the angry gales?” “I’m going,” the kitten replied, “To look at the Prince of Wales!

“I know what it is to get wet, I’ve tumbled full oft into pails And nearly been drowned--and yet I _must_ look at the Prince of Wales!”

“O kitten!” I cried, “the Deep Is deeper than many pails!” Said the kitten,“I shall not sleep Till I’ve looked at the Prince of Wales!”

“O kitten! pause at the brink, And think of the sad sea tales.” “Ah, yes,” said the kitten, “but think, Oh, think of the Prince of Wales!”

“But, kitten!” I cried, dismayed, “If you live through the angry gales You _know_ you will be afraid To look at the Prince of Wales!”

Said the kitten, “No such thing! Why should he make me wince? If ‘_a Cat may look at a King_,’ A kitten may look at a Prince!”

The Artful Ant.

Once on a time an artful Ant Resolved to give a ball, For tho’ in stature she was scant, She was not what you’d call A shy or bashful little Ant. (She was not shy at all.)

She sent her invitations through The forest far and wide, To all the Birds and Beasts she knew, And many more beside. (“You never know what you can do,” Said she, “until you’ve tried.”)

Five score acceptances came in Faster than she could read. Said she: “Dear me! I’d best begin To stir myself indeed!” (A pretty pickle she was in, With five-score guests to feed!)

The artful Ant sat up all night, A-thinking o’er and o’er, How she could make from nothing, quite Enough to feed five-score. (Between ourselves I think she might Have thought of that before.)

She thought, and thought, and thought all night, And all the following day, Till suddenly she struck a bright Idea, which was--(but stay! Just what it was I am not quite At liberty to say.)

Enough, that when the festal day Came round, the Ant was seen To smile in a peculiar way, As if--(but you may glean From seeing tragic actors play The kind of smile I mean.)

From here and there and everywhere The happy creatures came, The Fish alone could not be there. (And they were not to blame. “They really could not stand the air, But thanked her just the same.”)

The Lion, bowing very low, Said to the Ant: “I ne’er Since Noah’s Ark remember so Delightful an affair.” (A pretty compliment, although He really wasn’t there.)

They danced, and danced, and danced, and danced; It was a jolly sight! They pranced, and pranced, and pranced, and pranced, Till it was nearly light! And then their thoughts to supper chanced To turn. (As well they might!)

Then said the Ant: “It’s only right That supper should begin, And if you will be so polite, Pray _take each other in_.” (The emphasis was very slight, But rested on “_Take in_.”)

They needed not a second call, They took the hint. Oh, yes, The largest guest “took in” the small, The small “took in” the less, The less “took in” the least of all. (It was a great success!)

As for the rest--but why spin out This narrative of woe?-- The Lion took them in about As fast as they could go. (And went home looking very stout, And walking very slow.)

And when the Ant, not long ago, Lost to all sense of shame, Tried it again, I chance to know That not one answer came. (Save from the Fish, who “could not go, But thanked her all the same.”)

The GIFTED ANT.

A gifted ant, who could no more Than keep starvation from her door, Once cast about that she might find An occupation to her mind.

An ant with active hands and feet Can, as a rule, make both ends meet. Unhappily, this was not quite The case with her of whom I write.

“Since I am gifted,” she’d explain, “I ought to exercise my brain. The only thing for me, it’s clear, Is a professional career!”

But no profession could she find, Until one day there crossed her mind The proverb bidding sluggards gaze Upon the ant to learn her ways.

“The very thing!” she cried. “Hurray! I’ll advertise without delay. Things are come to a pretty pass, If I can’t teach a sluggard class!”

She set to work without delay, And wrote some cards that very day; And hung them in the grass--a plan To catch the sluggard’s eye. They ran

As follows:

SLUGGARDS who desire An education to acquire Will find it well to call to-day Upon Professor Ant, B. A. HER Sluggard Class, she begs to state, Reopens at an early date With several vacancies--a chance Exceptional--

_Terms--In Advance_.

She placed at every turn that led To her abode, a sign which read, “Go to the Ant,” and hung beside Her picture, highly magnified.

Said she, “At least that cannot fail To bring a Turtle, Sloth, or Snail, A Dormouse, or a Boy, to learn Their livelihood (and mine) to earn!

“I’ll teach them, first of all, to see The joyousness of industry; And they, to grasp my meaning more, Shall gather in my winter store.

“The Beauty of Abstemiousness I’ll next endeavor to impress Upon their minds at meals. (N. B. That is--if they should board with me.)

“Then Architecture they shall try (My present house is far from dry)-- In short, all Honest Toil I’ll teach (And they shall practise what I preach).”

Alas, for castles in the air!-- There’s no delusion anywhere Quite so delusive as, I fear, Is a professional career.

So thought the ant last time we met. She only has _one_ sluggard yet, Who scantly fills her larder shelf-- It is, I grieve to say, _herself_!

FLUFFY. No! No! No! Mama expressly told us not to stray Outside the basket while she was away. Something might happen if we disobeyed.

TOMMY. Oh, you’re a girl--of course you are afraid!

FLUFFY. Suppose--oh, dear!--suppose we meet a Rat!

TOMMY. Suppose we do, dear Fluffy, what of that? _I_ will protect you with my strong right paw. The sight of me would fill a Rat with awe.

FLUFFY. Would it?

TOMMY. Of course it would. I’d like to see The Rat who’d dare to trifle once with me, I do not think he’d live to try it twice!

FLUFFY. You are so brave! It really would be nice To see the world--

TOMMY. It will be grand. Here goes! There, take my paw, and jump. So, mind your toes!

(_Fluffy jumps._)

Now we are off. Tread softly, Sister dear, If we’re not careful all the world may hear.

FLUFFY (_starting_). Oh, dear, what was that noise? I wish we’d stayed--

TOMMY (_trembling_). Be brave, dear Sister,--see, _I’m_ n’-n’-not a’-afraid. Whatever happens, do not make a row!

(_Enter_ SIR RAT.)

SIR RAT. Aha! what’s this?

TOMMY. Help! Murder! Mi-ow-_ow_!

FLUFFY. Tommy, be calm! _Dear_ Mr. Rat, good day.

SIR RAT (_jumping up and down_). Enough! enough! I did not come to play!

FLUFFY. _Dear_ Mr. Rat, how beautifully you dance.

SIR RAT. You flatter me.

FLUFFY (_aside_). It is my only chance.

(_To_ TOMMY.)

Run, Tommy! run! and bring dear Father-cat, While I remain and flatter Mr. Rat.

(_Exit_ TOMMY, _in haste_.)

(_To_ SIR RAT.)

It’s very plain you learned that step in France. I wish, dear Rat, you’d teach _me_ how to dance.

SIR RAT. I do not often dancing-lessons give; But since you haven’t very long to live, And you are _so_ polite, this once I’ll try.

FLUFFY. Thanks! thanks, dear Rat,--one dance before I die.

(_Polka music. Sir Rat dances and Fluffy applauds._)

FLUFFY. Bravo! Sir Rat, I never saw before Such perfect dancing! Won’t you dance once more?

SIR RAT. Be done with folly, Kitten! Now at last Your time has come. Reflect upon your past!

FLUFFY. It won’t take long my past life to unfold! In sooth, Sir Rat, I’m only nine days old.

SIR RAT. Peace, Kitten! Hold thy peace!--thy time is past.

(_Springs upon her._)

FLUFFY. Miow! Miow!

(_Enter_ MR. _and_ MRS. CAT _and_ TOMMY.)

MR. CAT. Aha! Sir Rat, at last I have thee; and this barn will soon, I trow, Be rid of such a Ruffian Rat as thou!

(_They fight. Sir Rat falls._)

MR. CAT (_sheathing his claws_). ’Tis well I hastened; had I not, I fear We soon had seen the last of Fluffy dear!

TOMMY. Oh, dear, to think what might have been her fate!

FLUFFY (_aside_). I learned that Polka step, at any rate.

MRS. CAT. But luncheon’s waiting. Come into the house. Your father caught to-day a fine spring mouse. And, children, when I tell you not to stray From home, in future do not disobey!

CURTAIN.

The Deceitful Dormice.

A sleepy Dormouse who had passed The winter in her nest, Hearing that spring had come at last, Got up at once and dressed,

And, hastening from her downy house To hail the new spring day, She ran against another mouse That lived across the way.

The shock was such, at first the two Could scarcely speak for lack Of breath. Then each cried, “Oh, it’s _you!_! Why, when did you get back?”

“I’ve only just return’d, my dear,” The sleepy Dormouse said, “From Florida--the winters here, You know, affect my head.”

“Have you, indeed?” exclaimed her friend. “I’m glad to see you home. I, too, have just returned--I spend _My_ winters down in Rome.”

With many pawshakes then, at last They parted--each to say, “I wonder where that creature passed The winter--anyway!”

Nature and Art.

Said a lady who wore a swell cape, As she viewed a Rhinoceros, agape, “To think in this age A Beast in a cage Is permitted our fashions to ape!”

Thought the Beast in the cage, “I declare, One would think that these Ladies so fair Who come to the Zoo Have nothing to do But copy the things that I wear!”

Professor Pikestaffe, Ph. D., While wandering over land and sea, Once on the plains of Timbuctoo Met a giraffe.

“Why, how d’ ye do!” Exclaimed the amiable Pikestaffe. “I’m really charmed, my dear Giraffe! I’ve thought so much of you of late, Our meeting seems a stroke of Fate Particularly fortunate. I long have had upon my mind Something concerning you; be kind Enough to seat yourself, and pray Excuse, if what I have to say Seems personal!”

“My dear Pikestaffe, I shall be charmed,” said the Giraffe, “To hear whatever you may say. You are too kind; go on, I pray.”

“Well, then,” said Pikestaffe, “to resume, You are aware, sir, I presume, That though with your long neck at ease You crop the leaves upon the trees, Your legs are quite _too_ long, and make It difficult for you to slake Your thirst--in other words, you’ve found Your neck too short to reach the ground. Indeed, I’ve often wept to think How hard it is for you to drink.

“To right a wrong we must, of course, First try to ascertain the source; And in this case we find the cause In certain geometric laws, Which I will quickly demonstrate (How lucky that I brought my slate!).

“Well, to begin, let line A B Be your front legs; then line A C (A shorter line) your neck shall be. Measured, ’twill only reach so far, When bent down toward the ground, as R.

Then R’s your head stretched down, and shows How far the ground lies from your nose-- Though if the ground lay not at B, But R, you’d reach it easily. Suppose it then at R to lie, And draw for ground line D R I. Your head then touches ground at R-- But now your feet go down too far! My compasses then I will lay On A and B, and make round A A circle crossing line D I At two points. Mark them X and Y;

Then draw from X and Y to A Two lines; then it is safe to say That line A X and line A Y Equal A B, _being radii Of the same circle_, as you see (According to geometry). But since at first we did agree A B your length of leg should be, These, being equal to A B, Are just the same as legs, you see. So now on legs A X, A Y. You stand upon the ground D I, And drink your fill; for, as I said, D I is touched by R, your head.

Thus we have proved--”

* * * * *

What happened here Professor Pikestaffe has no clear Impression, but the little row Of stars above will serve to show What madly reeled before his eyes, As he went whirling to the skies. Below he heard a mocking laugh, That seemed to come from the Giraffe: “Go up! go up! You’ve proved enough; You’ve proved geometry is stuff! You’ve proved, till I am well nigh dead, And feel a thumping in my head, That I must spread my feet apart To take a drink--why, bless your heart! I knew that long ere you were born. I laugh geometry to scorn.”

* * * * *

Professor Pikestaffe, Ph. D., They say, has dropped geometry-- It seems he dropped his slate as well, Which lies exactly where it fell (Also the diagram he drew) Upon the plains of Timbuctoo.

An Owl once lived in a hollow tree, And he was as wise as wise could be. The branch of Learning _he_ didn’t know Could scarce on the tree of knowledge grow. He knew the tree from branch to root, And an Owl like that can afford to hoot.

And he hooted--until, alas! one day He chanced to hear, in a casual way, An insignificant little bird Make use of a term he had never heard. He was flying to bed in the dawning light When he heard her singing with all her might, “Hurray! hurray for the early worm!”

“Dear me!” said the Owl, “what a singular term! I would look it up if it weren’t so late; I must rise at _dusk_ to investigate. Early to bed and early to rise Makes an Owl healthy and stealthy and wise!”

So he slept like an honest Owl all day, And rose in the early twilight gray, And went to work in the dusky light To look for the early worm all night.

He searched the country for miles around, But the early worm was not to be found. So he went to bed in the dawning light, And looked for the “worm” again next night.

And again and again, and again and again He sought and he sought, but all in vain, Till he must have looked for a year and a day For the early worm, in the twilight gray.

At last in despair he gave up the search, And was heard to remark, as he sat on his perch By the side of his nest in the hollow tree, “The thing is as plain as night to me-- Nothing can shake my conviction firm, _There’s no such thing as the early worm_.”

Call it misfortune, crime, or what You will--his presence was a blot Where all was bright and fair-- A blot that told its darksome tale And left its mark a blighting trail Behind him everywhere.

* * * * *

He stood by the Atlantic’s shore, And crossed the azure main, And even the sea, so blue before, About his wake grew dark and bore The semblance of a stain.

On English soil he scarcely more Than paused his breath to gain; But on that fair historic shore There seemed to gather, as before, A darkness in his train.

Through sunny France, across the line To Germany, and up the Rhine To Switzerland he came; Then o’er the snowy Alpine height, To leave a stain as black as night On Italy’s fair name.

From Italy he crossed the blue, And hurried on as if he knew His journey’s end he neared. On Darkest Africa he threw A shade of even darker hue, Till in the sands of Timbuctoo His record disappeared.

* * * * *

Only an inkstand’s overflow, O Bumblebee! remains to show The source of your mishap; But though you’ve flown my ken beyond, The foot-notes of your _tour du monde_ Still decorate my map.

FROM MR. RUFUS FOX TO MISS BLANCHE GOOSE.

THE FERNWOODS, Friday.

Dear Miss Goose: Accept apologies profuse, For the abrupt and hasty way, In which I left you yesterday. I don’t know how I came to be So very rude, but then you see, I _was_ just offering my arm, When stupid Rover from the farm, Appeared so suddenly, and so-- Well, two is company, you know, While three--! Besides, ’twas getting late, So I decided not to wait. Yet, after all, another day Will do as well. What do you say? Can you contrive to dine with me To-morrow afternoon at three? Pray do, and by the hollyhocks Meet yours, sincerely,

RUFUS FOX.

II.

FROM MISS BLANCHE GOOSE TO MR. FOX.

THE FARMYARD, Friday afternoon.

Dear Mr. Fox, it seems so _soon_, You almost take my breath away! To-morrow? Three?--what _shall_ I say? Nothing could charm me more--but, no-- Alas! I fear I cannot go. Don’t think that I _resent_, I pray, Your hastiness of yesterday.

It is not that. But if I went, Without my dear Mama’s consent, And she should somehow chance to hear, She would be _dreadfully_ severe; And so, oh, dear! it is no use!

Believe me,

_Sadly_ yours, BLANCHE GOOSE.

P. S.--On second thoughts, dear Fox, I’ll meet you by the hollyhocks, For if Mama but knew how _kind_ You are, I’m sure she would not mind, To-morrow, then--we’ll meet at _three_; Don’t fail to be there. Yours,

B. G.

III.

FROM MR. RUFUS FOX TO HIS COUSIN REYNARD.

FRIDAY.

Dear Cousin, just a line To ask if you will come to dine (Informally, you know) with me To-morrow afternoon at three. Now don’t refuse, whate’er you do, I have a treat in store for you: A charming goose (and geese, you know, Do not on all the bushes grow!) A dream of tenderness in white, A case of “hunger at first sight.” I know, old boy, you’ll not be deaf To _this_ inducement.

Yours, R. F.

P. S.--Miss Goose agrees to be Beside the hollyhocks at three!

IV.

EXTRACT FROM THE DIARY OF ROVER, THE DOG.

SATURDAY NIGHT.