Part 1

Chapter 14,300 wordsPublic domain

BUDDY JIM

_By_ ELIZABETH GORDON

_Pictures by_ JOHN RAE

_Published by_ THE P.F. VOLLAND COMPANY JOLIET, ILLINOIS NEW YORK BOSTON

Printed in U.S.A.

_Twenty-third Edition_

Foreword

Out in the Park one day, children, I met a little boy not bigger than you are, who told me that he liked stories about a boy and a dog and the things they did together.

He said that it must be a _real boy_ and a _real dog_, and there must be other animals in the story, not great, big, fierce ones, but just _neighborly_ ones--animals a boy might, perhaps, meet when he went for walks in the woods--and take pictures of and get to know.

So this is the story of the way a _real boy_ and a _real dog_ spent their first summer in the _real country_; and the fun they had together.

Buddy Jim and old Dog Sandy are waiting for us over on the front page.

Your very own, Elizabeth Gordon

LEAVING HOME IN THE CITY

_"We're going to the Country," Said little Buddy Jim. And all his little play-mates said, "How dull 'twill be, for him." "It's like a great, big, vacant lot, Just land and air and sky!" "No boys! No games! Oh dear!" said Jim, "Don't want to say Goodbye!"_

But he had to say "Goodbye," because all the other boys' Mothers were calling them in to go to bed, and as Buddy Jim and his family were going to get an early start for their trip to the country in their automobile, there would be no time for saying farewells in the morning.

So all the boys ran home, shouting last messages to Buddy Jim as they went. "Bring us a tame bull-frog," said one, and "I'd like a grey squirrel to keep in a cage," said another.

As Buddy Jim heard the last door close behind the last small boy he felt very lonely indeed; so he sat down on the porch swing to think it over.

He could hear Daddy moving around in the house, getting everything ready for the early morning start, and he knew that it would not be very many minutes before he would be called in to go to bed; and he wanted to get his thinking done first, so he had to do it quickly.

There was one thing that he was very sure of; he did _not_ want to go away and leave all his play-mates behind. "Course," he thought, "there would prob'ly be _some_ fun in the country,"--but he _knew_ that there was loads and _loads_ of it in the city, base ball and three old cat, and swimming in the lake, and chasing butterflies, and working in the school gardens, helping Alex the crippled boy in the wheel chair to train his bull-pups, and "Oh, Goodness' Sakes! So _many_ things! So many _int'resting_ things to do."

"I don't _want_ to go," he murmured aloud. "There'll be no one to play with; three whole months, and no one to play with! Not much fun to think about! I'll prob'ly just fade away and _die_!" he wailed.

Then somebody laughed, "Ha, ha, ha!" To be sure, it was a queer, squeaky little laugh, and Buddy Jim had never heard anything like it before, but it sounded very jolly.

"Now I wonder," said Buddy Jim, "what _that_ was? It _sounded_ just like somebody laughing! But there's no one here 'cept me."

"Hello, Buddy Jim," said the same squeaky little voice, "Hello! Can't you see me? Here I am, up above you, in the corner of the porch ceiling, hanging on a nail."

Buddy Jim peered up into the darkness above him, and sure enough he saw a funny, fussy little body, hanging head downward, so that a pair of little eyes, in a funny little fox-like face, were laughing down at him.

"Why!" said Buddy Jim in surprise, "Why! Who are you?"

"I? Oh! I'm just Reddy Bat, and when I heard you say that you were sad because you were going to the Country to live this summer, I just couldn't help laughing. I just laughed right out loud! Why, I'd almost give my right wing to go to the Country to live."

"Then why don't you?" asked Buddy Jim. It's "not very far." "Can't" said Reddy Bat, "Can't, I've got a family to support. Can't afford to leave these good hunting grounds just for the pleasure of living in the country."

"What do you hunt, here?" asked Buddy Jim, politely.

"Oh, flies and mosquitoes, and dragon flies, and bugs of all sorts," said Reddy Bat. "Don't you ever hear us swooping around after dark?"

"Now I come to think of it," said Buddy Jim, "I think I have. But I thought you were some night bird. Anyway, do you really think there will be any fun in the Country?"

"There will be if you make it," said Reddy Bat, "there never _is_ any fun anywhere _unless_ one makes it for himself. But _I_ could have a good time there. I've some cousins who live there, and if you happen to meet them, just give them my best wishes, will you, like a good chap?"

"Why yes, I certainly will," said Buddy Jim, "if I _see_ them," he added. "But maybe I won't see them! I've never seen you before in all my life until now, you know."

Reddy Bat laughed again. "I know it," he said, "and I live right here on your front lawn, in your own oak trees, and bring my family out for supper and exercise every evening."

"Where do you leave your children when you come out?"

"Leave the _children_!" said Reddy Bat in surprise. "Leave the precious _children_! Why, we wouldn't _think_ of such a thing. Mrs. Reddy Bat always takes our children with her when we leave home. Why we would not have an easy moment all the time we were away if we left _them_ at home!"

"I think you are very tender-hearted," said Buddy Jim. "Most folks say the Bats are ugly and not friendly." "Well," said Reddy Bat, "_I know_ we are _not_ very beautiful to look at, but I suppose we are very much like other people; we try to defend ourselves when we are molested. But if people treat _us_ kindly, we treat _them_ kindly."

"But, Reddy Bat," said Buddy Jim, "tell me what fun _is_ there in the Country?"

"You'll see," laughed Reddy Bat, "living in the Country will make your eyes open wide so that you _can_ see! And now Goodnight and Goodbye, Buddy Jim. It's time for me to go to work and for you to go to bed." And Reddy Bat unhooked the tip of his wing from the nail in the corner of the porch roof, and flew past Buddy with a laugh and a whizz and was gone!

Buddy Jim sat up and looked after him. He felt much happier! Just then Daddy called, "Bedtime, Son!"

"Dad," said the little boy, "I b'lieve I'm going to like living in the Country, after all!"

"Sure to, Son," said Daddy, and they gravely shook hands on it.

BUDDY JIM, OLD RED SQUIRREL AND THE ROBIN BIRD

_The summer shower had scurried by And left the world all new; And the fleecy clouds were floating In a sky of clearest blue; The plants were all so grateful You could almost see them grow; Said Buddy Jim, "The Country is The nicest place I know!"_

Buddy Jim was in the hammock on the porch with a book. But he had not been reading. It was much more fun to watch the zigzag streaks of lightning flash across the world, and to see the tall trees bend and sway in the wind, and to hear the big boom of the thunder-bird's wings. It was all so different from a shower in the city, when you had to rush and close all the windows, and stay indoors until it was over.

Buddy Jim laughed to himself when he thought about how much he had disliked to leave the city, and come to his Father's farm for the summer. His Father had bought it just so that they could have a summer home where the little boy could run and play and be interested. "I _'xpected_ to be lonesome," said he to himself, "but I'm not. I've never had so much fun before in my life!" And he settled back in the hammock to read his new book.

But he had hardly begun to read, when he sat up with a start. There was a great chattering and scolding from the branches of an old elm tree on the front lawn. And there was a cry that sounded to Buddy Jim like a call for help, so he threw his book aside and running out to the old elm tree peered up into its leafy branches.

Old Dog Sandy got up from the porch steps, shook the rain drops from his shaggy coat, and followed his master.

But the leaves of the old elm tree were very thick and they could see nothing, though the chattering and scolding and calls for help were still going on.

"Sounds as though old Red Squirrel was trying to help himself to Mrs. Robin Redbreast's eggs," said Old Bob the gardener, as he came by.

"Is _that_ what it is?" said Buddy Jim. "Well, you watch me! I'm going up there and spoil that old fellow's game."

"I'll give you a boost, if you're going up," said Old Bob the gardener. "You'll get there quicker." And he swung Buddy Jim up to his shoulders. From there Buddy Jim could reach up and catch the lower branches of the old elm, and so clinging with his bare brown feet like a regular little monkey, he was soon in sight of Mrs. Robin Redbreast's nest.

It was just as Old Bob the gardener had suspected. There was old Red Squirrel chattering and scolding at poor Mrs. Robin, doing his best to chase her away from her nest; and she, poor brave little Mother bird, was sticking tight and refusing to leave her precious blue eggs.

When old Red Squirrel saw Buddy Jim he knew his game was up, and so he turned and ran, like the coward he was, past Buddy Jim, and down the trunk of the old elm tree.

Of course he did not know that old Dog Sandy was waiting there for him, and he ran right into him! If old Dog Sandy had been young Dog Sandy it would have gone hard with old Red Squirrel. But even if old Dog Sandy could not catch him, he _could_ chase him away and that is just what he did, barking so loudly it gave him a very good scare anyway, so that he made up his robber mind that he would keep away from _that_ place in the future!

Up in the elm tree poor little Mother Robin was trembling all over. "I thought you never _would_ come, Buddy Jim," she said. "And then I thought perhaps you were one of those boys who don't care much what becomes of birds."

"Indeed I am not," said Buddy Jim. "I care very much for birds, indeed I do, but you see I'm just out from the city, and I did not know what your call for help meant. I don't know much about Country life yet. Does old Red Squirrel bother you much?"

"I should say he does," said Mother Robin. "If he can only find out when Father Robin is away after worms for my dinner, he is sure to come and try to frighten me away so that he can have a chance to eat my beautiful blue eggs for _his_ dinner. He is a _dreadful_ pest. Between him and Peter Prowler the Cat, who is very likely to catch my babies before they are big enough to fly, it's a wonder I am ever able to bring up a family."

"Well, little Mother Robin," said Buddy Jim, "you can be quiet now, and forget all about it. Old Dog Sandy will be sure to see that Peter Prowler does not come around here. He doesn't like cats. And I'm going to live here all summer, and I'll see that old Red Squirrel keeps away. Goodbye, little Mother bird." And Buddy Jim slid back down the old elm tree, and found old Dog Sandy just coming back from his long chase after old Red Squirrel.

"Sandy," said Buddy Jim, "If you happen to see Peter Prowler the cat around here after Mrs. Robin's babies, I want you to chase him away. Do you hear?"

"Woof, woof!" promised Old Dog Sandy. And he kept his word, and so after awhile there were four very fat, speckly young robin birds running around the lawn, and they got so tame they would hop right up on the swing and chatter to Buddy Jim.

BUDDY JIM AND THE PIN-CUSHIONY PERSON

_"The Strawberries are ripening," Old Bob the gardener said, "And I must thin the beets next week, They're crowded in their bed; So I shall go to town today, While there's not much to do;" "O dear, O dear," said Buddy Jim "I wish I might go too!"_

For Buddy Jim _knew_ that he was going to have a _very_ lonely day! There was no doubt about it. He liked well enough being in the country, when he could tramp about after Old Bob the gardener, and plant things, and pull up other things, and learn the name of every thing and the reason for it.

Old Bob the gardener said every day that he had never before seen a "city chap" who learned so easily to tell the weeds from the plants, and who knew just which things to take from the garden to feed to his pet rabbits.

But Old Bob the gardener was going to town for a whole long day! And there was nothing to do; and even if there had been anything to do, there was nobody to do it _with_; and he was just plain lonesome; but he s'posed he'd have to feed his rabbits; so he started to the garden for some weeds.

Just then Mother called: "Buddy Jim! Are you there?" "Yes, Mother," said Buddy Jim, running back to the porch where Mother was standing in her pretty, cool-looking pink dress, with her hair blowing in little curls around her face.

Buddy Jim loved to look at his Mother. She was _so_ pretty!

"Buddy," said his Mother, "do you think you could go down to the edge of the Fir thicket and get me some more Fir tips for the Porch pillows?"

"Why, yes, Mother, of course I can, and I will, too, just as soon as I have fed my rabbits," said Buddy Jim.

"That's a good son," said Mother, "and you'd better go around to the kitchen and ask Mary the maid for a basket and some blunt-pointed scissors. And be careful about poison ivy, son; there's a bunch of it down near the edge of the Fir thicket that Bob the gardener has not had time to destroy."

"Don't worry, Mother," said Buddy Jim, "I know that stuff when I see it, and I'll be sure to keep away from it." And the little boy whistled to Old Dog Sandy to come along, happy that he had found something to do.

It was lots of fun running across the fields to the woods. The grass was long and wet with the dew of the morning, and it curled around Buddy Jim's little bare legs just as though it loved to have little bare-legged boys wade through it. Old Dog Sandy thought it was wonderful to chase the big gray Grasshoppers that flew up in all directions, with a ch-r-r-r, that sounded just like a pin-wheel on the Fourth of July.

Pretty soon they came to the Fir thicket, where all the young Fir trees were standing like tall young ladies in pale green dresses ready to go to church on a Sunday morning.

Buddy began carefully to cut off the pale green tips of the boughs as his Mother had shown him, while Old Dog Sandy roamed through the bushes amusing himself.

Buddy Jim's basket was almost full of the fragrant Fir tips, and he was just going to whistle for Old Dog Sandy, to come home with him, when there was a _dreadful_ commotion from inside of the Fir thicket. It was Old Dog Sandy barking for all he was worth, in a way that Buddy knew meant, "Come here, _quickly_, and see what _I've_ found!"

So Buddy Jim put his basket down and ran into the Fir thicket, where he found Old Dog Sandy doing his best to climb an old dead Fir tree, which was much taller than the rest of the trees, at the same time barking his _very fiercest_ at something that was perched up on a limb of the tree. Something that was very much alive, and looked like a big round pin-cushion stuck full of pins, points up.

"Hello!" said Buddy Jim, "What's the matter here?" "Matter enough, _I_ should say," chattered a very indignant little voice, "and you'd better call off that foolish old dog of yours if you want to save him trouble. He'll be a sorry dog if he bites me!"

"Don't be afraid of Sandy," said Buddy Jim. "He _is_ an old dog. I've had him always, and his bark is worse than his bite; besides, he can't climb a tree anyway; he just thinks he can!"

The round Pin-cushiony Person in the tree just laughed. "Bless your heart," he said, "_I'm_ not _afraid_ of Old Dog Sandy; I'm just being polite to him because he's a _City_ dog and doesn't know any better than to try to bite me; any country dog would _know_ better."

"You go outside and lie down, Sandy," said Buddy Jim, and when the old dog had gone, growling deep down in his throat because he did not want to go, he turned to the Pin-cushiony Person and said, "Now tell me what your name is and _why_ Sandy would be a sorry dog if he should bite you."

"You must have read about me in books," said the Pin-cushiony Person, "and if you would think a bit you would know that my name is Prickly Porcupine. My pins are stuck in _very loosely_, so if a dog bites me he gets something to remember me by. He gets a mouthful of pins that do not come out very easily and I don't get hurt very much. Sometimes, just for fun, I let one start to bite me, and just as he thinks he has me I hit him in the mouth with my tail, and he goes home in a hurry to ask his master to pull my pins out!"

"I don't call that being very friendly," said Buddy Jim. "It isn't very friendly for dogs to try to bite me, either, just because they're bigger than I am," said the Pin-cushiony Person. "Mother Nature made me the way I am, so I'd have some way of defending myself. I'm so _fat_, and my legs are so _short_ that I do not run very well, and besides, I don't feel like running away from my enemies."

"Well, I don't blame you for that," said Buddy Jim. "Nobody likes to run, even if the other fellow _is_ the biggest. I don't! I know just how you feel about that. But do tell me. What do you do all the time? Do you live all alone?"

"Not all the time," answered the Pin-cushiony Person, "I have a family; but we are rather independent people and _like_ to be alone. Days I sleep mostly, unless I am disturbed, as I was by your Old Dog Sandy just now, and nights I go out for food."

"What do you eat?" asked Buddy Jim. "I'm almost afraid to tell you," said the Pin-cushiony Person, "for fear that you'll tell old Bob the gardener, but I live in this Fir thicket because it is so near to the farm of your Father."

"Why should Bob the gardener care?" asked Buddy Jim. "Well you see," said the Pin-cushiony Person, "I go out at night and I nibble a bit here, and a bit there, from old Bob's garden, and I know how very particular he is about his garden and so I know if he ever catches me at it I shall be driven away from the Fir thicket."

"Do people hunt you much?" asked Buddy Jim. "Not very much nowadays" answered the Pin-cushiony Person, "but I've heard old Grandfather Porcupine tell stories to the Young Ones. He said his Grandfather had told him about the times when the Red Men lived in the forests, and used to hunt our people with bows and arrows. And how the Red Women used to cook us to feed their children, and to use our quills that Mother Nature had given us to defend ourselves with to trim their dresses and moccasins." "But those dreadful days are all over," he went on, "and now about all we have to fear are the eagles and the larger animals." "Aren't they afraid of your sharp pins?" asked Buddy Jim. "Some of them are, after they get one mouthful," answered the Pin-cushiony Person, "but Old Man Fisher is always hungry and willing to take a chance of getting stuck full of pins. But if you don't mind, Buddy Jim, I'm a bit sleepy--it always makes me drowsy to talk--so I'll say Goodbye and just turn over and have my nap out."

"Goodbye, old Mr. Porcupine," said Buddy Jim, "and good luck to you." And he picked up his basket of Fir tips and whistled to Old Dog Sandy, who was still growling.

"Old Dog Sandy and I ran on to Old Prickly Porcupine down in the Fir thicket today," said Buddy Jim to Old Bob the gardener, that night. "And Old Dog Sandy wanted to bite him."

"He would have been a sorry old dog if he had," said Old Bob the gardener.

But Old Dog Sandy just opened one eye, and tapped the ground with his tail.

He was thinking that some day when there was nobody looking, he was going back to that Fir thicket alone! And he was going to _show_ that old Pin-cushiony Person!

BUDDY JIM GOES SWIMMING AND MEETS A QUEER LITTLE NEIGHBOR

_The sun came climbing up the hills As red as red could be, And not a leaf was moving on Any shrub or tree; The little birds forgot to sing, The winds forgot to roam; "There's nothing to do," said Buddy Jim, "But stay around at home."_

Just then Old Bob the gardener came along, mopping his brow with his old, red bandana handkerchief which he wore tied around his neck, like a cowboy in a wild west movie.

"O Bob," said Buddy Jim, "Isn't it hot? I don't feel as though I'd _ever_ be cool again!"

"It is, _so_," said Old Bob the gardener, "for the last week in June, it is about as hot as I've ever seen it; you look a bit peaked, Son, seems to me," said he, sympathetically, "has the heat got hold of you?"

"Oh, I don't think so, Bob," said the little fellow. "But it just seems as though there were not a thing in the world to _do_!"

"Old Dog Sandy seems a bit tuckered out, too," said Old Bob the gardener. Old Dog Sandy, stretched out flat under a lilac bush, didn't bother to open his eyes. He just thumped the ground feebly with his tail. It was too hot to _move_, if one didn't have to, but one must always be polite!

"Now let's see," said Old Bob the gardener, "there _should_ be something that a boy could do on a hot day, and get some fun out of it? Can you swim?"

"Some," said Buddy Jim. "I learned in the pool at the gymnasium, at home--I mean in the city."

"_Pool!_" said Old Bob the gardener, contemptuously, "run and get your bathing suit and I'll take you down to the old swimming hole, where I used to swim when I was your age, and where I've been swimming every year since! I think I would enjoy a swim myself, this morning," he added. Buddy Jim forgot all about the weather, but went tearing like a small whirl-wind to Mother, asking _where_ was his bathing suit, and hopping excitedly around until she had found it. He was so enthusiastic that he could hardly wait until Old Bob the gardener had found his own suit and was ready to go. Even Old Dog Sandy waked up and decided to go along, and it was a happy little procession which went, Indian file, along the narrow path which led through the alder bushes to the swimming hole.

Someone who loved boys must have made that swimming hole. The sand had been scooped out from the bed of the brook, and used to make a fine, wide beach; the brook had been made deeper and wider, and a big old tree had been felled in just the right place for a clean, high dive. The alders grew thickly around the beach, and made the nicest dressing room imaginable, and very soon, all three, the old man, the little boy, and the old dog were splashing happily around in the cool water.

Old Bob the gardener taught Buddy Jim many things that he had not learned at the gymnasium; how to tread water like a dog, how to keep his eyes open under water, and how to lie on his back and just float; it was great fun, and they were soon as cool as though jolly old Mr. Sun had not tried to see how hot he could _make_ a day in June.