Part 2

Then pigs must have pens! So pens naturally followed—pens of corn cobs put together in rail fence fashion.

Later in the season there were acorn pigs in pens made of sticks and straws.

Burdock Leaves and Clothes-Pins

Burdock leaves as well as the burs were used by the children in their plays. Hats and shawls were made of them—but best of all were the burdock leaf wigwams.

To make these twigs or tent poles were stuck in the ground and burdock leaves folded round them in tent fashion. The points of the leaves were torn off to make them the right shape.

Then there had to be Indians to live in the wigwams and these were made of clothes-pins. Nothing could be easier to make than a clothes-pin Indian.

First the features are marked out on the head of the pin, then a band of paper pasted round the top and a feather stuck in at the back for a war-bonnet; and a square of stiff paper folded around the clothes-pin, for a blanket, and the Indian is finished.

The little Wests made whole villages of burdock wigwams with clothes-pin braves standing guard at the doors.

Tom always liked stories of enchantment, so he made up one about these wooden Indians.

The Clothes-Pin Tribe

JOURNEYING across the country a lone traveler chanced upon an Indian village. Such Indians as he saw there were unknown to him, and neither did he know that Indians of any kind dwelt in that part of the land.

Strange to him, too, were the wigwams, or teepees, of the unknown tribe. All of the wigwams with which he was familiar were covered with either blankets or skins. These were of the leaves of the burdock and much smaller than any he had ever seen—fit only for the homes of a pigmy tribe—and such it proved to be.

Guarding every wigwam stood an Indian, while others were scattered about the encampment.

As the traveler gazed on the scene before him, his astonishment grew when he saw that not a figure moved. Every man stood up straight and silent.

Inquiring of a passer-by, one who seemed acquainted with the regions round about, the traveler asked the meaning of what he saw, and learned that the pigmy tribe was ruled by a giant, who years ago had departed for a great city where he hoped to bargain with the people for the sale of the tobacco which his tribe produced. The sample he carried was in the form of a package of cigars, bound about by a strip of twisted tobacco leaves.

For the crime of tempting people to make use of that which would harm them the giant Indian and his pigmy tribe had had a spell cast over them, which turned them to wood, took away their speech, and rendered them motionless.

From the time when the spell came over them no Indian in all the tribe had so much as winked an eye. And all would remain as they were till the spell was broken.

All stood just as they did at the moment when the enchantment fell upon them—the sentinels stock still at the doors of their tents, and the others stiff and straight in the places where that awful moment had found them; the giant chief stood just as he did on that day, ever holding out the package of cigars bound about by the twisted band of tobacco leaves.

When some paleface should take from the hand of the giant Indian the cigars which he offered, the spell would be broken, but to this day no such paleface had come.

This was the story Tom told Grandpa, the lone traveler, when asked about his clothes-pin Indian village with its burdock wigwams. And Grandpa said that it was no doubt true, for he, himself, had seen the giant Indian chief standing, wooden and silent, on a city street, offering cigars to every passer-by.

* * * * *

The Thanksgiving season brought to mind the other early settlers of America, and these, too, were represented by clothes-pin men and women, while the rude cabins of our forefathers were represented by corn cob cabins chinked with mud.

John Alden in his tall Pilgrim hat and Priscilla in her gown of gray and kerchief of white were favorite figures in these early history plays of the West children.

An Irish (Potato) Woman and Her Family

SOME of the jolliest visitors were from the potato patch. They were Irish, of course, and every one knows how much fun there is in all Irish people. There was not a serious looking one in the whole family.

The mother had a most peculiar face, round and plump and happy, but deformed. Though she had more than the usual number of eyes, they were not located so she could use them as _eyes_.

One was on her cheek just where others sometimes have dimples, so she used that for a dimple. Another was on her forehead, and another just where an eye should have been for seeing purposes. But, sad to tell, this one had a sprout in it, and a sprout in the eye would ruin any one’s sight.

Had it not been for the little Wests, the Irish woman might have been blind all her life. With an ordinary lead pencil an operation was performed on her face which gave her a beautiful round eye just opposite the afflicted one.

This so pleased her that a broad smile spread over her face—a smile that she wore as long as she lived—and that was reflected in the faces of all of her family.

If you had asked her how it happened that they were always smiling, she would have said, “Sure, smiles are catching, just like measles.” When one in a family has them, they all do. Yes, they’re just as catching as measles, and much pleasanter to have.

Other potatoes were made up into gay Irish maidens, with early rose complexions, and into Irish men, with sun-browned faces, and into sturdy Irish children.

These were able to stand up very nicely too, having good substantial Irish (potato) feet.

And who ever heard of an Irish family without a pig? And were not potatoes the most natural things in the world to make pigs of?

Nothing could have been easier to make. A long potato was the body, four matches the legs, two pins the eyes, while a curled dandelion stem made the most natural pig tail imaginable.

Creatures of Clay

HAVE you ever made men and animals of mud? You can do almost anything with it when it is just soft enough. If it is too dry it is sure to crack. Clay is best, but any kind of mud will do.

The little Wests spent hours and hours making people and villages of clay—for there was a most delightfully damp bank by the brookside, where the clay seemed made for young artists.

After modeling a few men, the children began to notice just how large a head ought to be, for a certain sized body, and how far down the arms ought to reach, and whether the legs were longer or shorter than the arms.

At first, though, they made some funny looking creatures. Lady Hollyhock must have smiled more than ever when she saw two of them coming. Or maybe she was frightened.

One of them was a savage with excelsior hair standing out all over his head. The only clothing he wore was a skirt of leaves fastened about his clumsy waist.

His companion was a dwarf negro made by Ted, a larger playmate of the West children. Ted never would be serious. He told the children that the ugly dwarf had spoiled his looks by looking and listening too much. His looks certainly had been spoiled in some way.

Cousin Charlotte made a rhyme about him, which seemed to explain his appearance pretty well.

A Man of Clay

This poor soul has looked till his eyes stand out And listened till his ears are immense; And though his mouth has grown large from talking much, He says never a word of sense.

For his brain is so muddled, he never can think, Whate’er he may see, hear, or say, He was not made to understand, He is only a man of clay.

The Corn Husk Lady

Through the mail one day the little Wests received a box bearing a Nebraska post mark. On opening it they saw the queerest doll imaginable, all neatly packed in crushed tissue paper.

This was a lady doll made entirely of corn husks and corn silk. The silk was for hair, of course, and very real looking hair it made. A bunch of the thinner, softer husks had been tied together for the head and body; a flat piece was laid over the place where the face was to be, and a string drawn tightly around it about an inch from the top making a very neat, shapely head and neck. Water color paints were used to make the clear blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and other features. Curly brown corn silk was next fastened on for hair, and two rather stiff rolls of husks served for arms.

Then the lady was dressed in the most elaborate garments. She wore a gathered waist, large sleeves, and a very full skirt. On her head was a bonnet, wonderful to behold. Like her gown and parasol, it, too, was made entirely of corn husks.

A letter that came with the doll said that it had been made by a little crippled girl living on a Nebraska farm and who had made the husk dolls for amusement at first, but that since she had learned to make them so well many of her dolls had been sold. What she had begun for mere pleasure was now a source of profit to her.

The letter said, also, that in making her dolls this little girl always soaked the husks to soften them and to keep them from tearing while the dolls were being made.

In looking about for a name for the new visitor the children decided upon “Cornelia” as the name best suited to one of her nature and general makeup.

When Papa was asked to suggest a last name for the young lady from Nebraska he said he thought “Shucks” would probably be as appropriate as any other, so Cornelia Shucks she was called.

On the very day the young lady arrived the children hunted up some nice clean corn husks and put them to soak in warm water. There were thin white pieces which came next to the corn, and butter colored strips, and deep brown ones—variety enough for any doll’s wardrobe. After an hour or two of soaking, the husks were taken from the water and wiped as dry as possible and then they were ready.

After much examination of the fair Cornelia’s form and style of dress the little Wests were able to make quite respectable looking husk dolls. Of course, the first ones were a trifle clumsy, but after a while these children were able to make and dress lady dolls as fine as Cornelia Shucks herself.

The Corn Cob Baby

THE corn cob doll is a hardy little thing, able to endure the hardest usage.

It has no features, to speak of, and a dreadfully pock-marked face—yet no play baby is dearer to the heart of its owner than the corn cob baby.

Baby Bunnie gave her corn cob child a little more style than such babies usually have, by wrapping it about as babies are sometimes wrapped in foreign countries.

Red cobs were made into Indian babies, and bound into bark cradles, and hung up in the trees, like real papooses.

Apple Jack

FROM the Orchard came Apple Jack, a most agreeable gentleman.

Lady Hollyhock was not the only person who was proud to receive him. Everybody liked him, not alone for his engaging smile and pleasant manner but because of his goodness.

Then he could always be depended upon to stand by his friends, and the advice he gave was always of the best.

But we will let him tell his own story.

APPLE JACK’S STORY

Apple Jack is the name I bear And it suits me well, I ween; My home was once in an apple tree Among the leaves so green.

My head and body were separate then With never a stick between. Though both are now of the richest red, When young, like the leaves they were green.

Each part of me swung on a separate bough The whole long summer through— My color was changed by the sun’s warm rays I was washed by the rain and the dew.

When the autumn came I had a great fall Which was the making of me, For a boy chanced that way and took me up And made me the man you see.

Though I never can do any work for this friend Who helped me to be what I am, I’ll stand by him through trouble and joy And always prove loyal and calm.

If he should choose to take me in I would cause him never an ache, For, since he was the making of me, I’d go down for friendship’s sake.

As long as on the earth I stay I will try to give him joy, With a beaming smile upon my face I will always greet this boy.

The world looks so funny through apple-seed eyes, To laugh is all I can do; And when I go, “Greet your friends with a smile” Is the message I leave to you.

The Peanut Man

THE Peanut Chinese man was made of eight peanuts—one for the head, one for the body, one for each arm and two for each leg. All had double kernels, except the one forming the head.

These peanuts were fastened together by heavy thread. The needle was run crosswise through the end of one nut; then through the end of the nut joining it, and the thread tied in a hard knot.

The face was drawn with a pen and ink. The back of the head and bottoms of the feet were solidly inked for hair and shoes and the cue was of braided black silk thread, sewed to the top of the head. Over the place where the cue was fastened, a disk of stiff paper was glued for a hat.

When crinkled tissue paper was gathered around the neck and arms to form a loose jacket and around the legs for wide trousers, the Peanut Chinese man was complete.

The Peanut Chinese Woman

THE Peanut Chinese woman was not dressed like a real Chinese woman. Living in America, she was beginning to like skirt-like gowns better than the baggy trousers of her own people. Her sleeves, too, had just a little of the American look.

But when it came to dressing her hair the real Chinese style suited her best. The heavy black silky loops were caught up and held in place by long pins such as she had used in her native land.

Her garments, like those of the Peanut Chinese man, were of crinkled tissue paper, though the little Wests pretended they were of silk.

They wanted these dolls to have silk clothing like real Chinese people, but as they did not have the goods, they just imagined that the paper was silk and were happy in the make-believe.

The Acorn Family

IN the autumn when the acorns began to fall the children found no end of amusement in making them up into all sorts of people and animals.

Some were converted into soldiers—Japanese, with blue kimonos and Russians with long fur overcoats—and often they were lined up for battle. Ruthlessly the children shot them down with bean shooters. Since their sympathies were with the Japs, of course the Russians suffered most, yet there were losses on both sides.

While the brown of the acorns suggested Japs and Filipenos, it was equally suggestive of our own negro people, so numbers of these were made with their blue checked gowns and red bandanas.

Then there were just ordinary acorn men and women, with acorn heads on toothpick necks, and bodies of twisted paper.

One attractive pair was dressed in corn-colored crinkled tissue paper. A round disk of the paper was pasted to the top of the head of each for the brim of a hat, and the cup of the acorn pasted over that for a crown. No prettier doll hats could be imagined.

The shoes these little people wore were of ink.

Everything the acorn family had was made, like themselves, of acorns. Their cups and saucers, their plates, their baskets, their tops, and their pigs, even, were of acorns.

Tom enjoyed the tops most. These were made by running slender toothpicks, or shoepegs, about halfway through the acorns which spun on their own points. Games were often played with these tops.

When any one wanted to know which army would be victorious in battle two tops were set spinning on a plate and each named for an opposing army. The one falling over first was defeated, of course. Sometimes one spun itself off the plate. That meant a retreat.

Disks of bright colored paper were often placed above the top on the toothpick or shoepeg. When red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet were used and all the tops set spinning at the same time, this meant that a rainbow had gone to pieces and each color was doing its best to get back into its proper place.

NOTE:

An acorn is used for the body of each of these dolls, and toothpick arms and legs inserted as in Apple Jack.

The Haws

THE members of the Haw family were not very different from those of the Acorn family. Why should they be? They had lived side by side in the same wood all their lives, and had grown up together under the same circumstances.

Their complexions were different, to be sure, but aside from this and the difference in the shape of their heads, they were built on exactly the same lines—round bodies, slender arms and legs.

Like the Acorn family some had perfectly stiff limbs, while others were provided with joints. The first were supposed to have rheumatism.

The only wonder is that they did not all have it, going about as they did, without any clothes, in all sorts of weather.

The Gourds

The little Wests each fancied a different style of doll. Eugenie liked dressed up visiting dolls, Florence played mother to baby dolls in long dresses, Tom liked what he called “funny fellows” and Indians, while baby Bunnie always insisted on her children keeping house.

Tom’s favorites, the funny fellows, came from the squash patch and gourd vines. It was not necessary to even dress these. All one had to do was to dip a match in ink and mark out faces on them.

These faces could be made either sunny and cheerful or sour and sad by changing the directions of the lines. Lines turning upward made the happy faces and those turning downward made the troubled ones.

The oval yellow gourds were made into fat men and Humpty Dumpties. These Tom used to make run races with each other by rolling them down hill. Which do you think always beat, the fattest and largest, or the smaller ones?

Gourd Men

NONE of the Gourd men ever had the appearance of being either sensible or well behaved. But one ought not to expect sense and dignity from any of their race, for, all over the world, those who have neither are said to be as “green as a gourd.”

It was only the gourd babies who seemed to know anything at all about behaving properly. Strange as it may seem, the younger members of this awkward family were as sweet and quiet as any babies in the whole vegetable kingdom.

Some of these gourd children were made by using the large part for a head and putting a deep frill about the neck for a gown. This was held in place by a pin run through both gown and baby.

Others were made by using the slender part for a head and putting the same kind of a frill about the neck for a dress. The last kind could sit up as well as any real child.

It was the easiest thing in the world to make rhymes about these dolls—indeed the rhymes seemed to almost make themselves.

What the Gourd Man Said

I’m as queer a fellow As ever was seen With face of yellow And hair of green.

With seeds in the place Where my brain ought to be— You can’t expect much From a fellow like me.

The Mender

A STRANGE creature made of spools, a thimble, and needles was called “The Mender.” But it was not because he ever really did any mending. He never did anything but stand where he was put, in the stiffest way imaginable.

Even though he never did do anything, he was of some use in the world, for his very presence seemed to say, “A stitch in time saves nine.”

Hickory-Nut People

HICKORY nuts were rather hard to make into dolls, for it was almost impossible to make their heads stay on. But by putting close fitting caps on them under their bonnets, and bringing the cloth down and tying it at the neck with a string, this extended cap made a very good foundation for a body.

It was found that bonnets and long capes were the most becoming garments for these dolls, as they seemed to harmonize best with the caps.

Since Nuns and Nurses both dress in this way, the greater number of the Hickory-nut family turned out to be Nuns and Nurses.

The Hickory-Nut Nurse

The hickory-nut nurse has a hard, hard face But a heart that is tender and true; She could not change her looks, you know, And neither can I, or you.

But we can be helpful and kind and good To all whom we meet and know, So they never will think of our looks at all, But of the goodness that lies below.

The Kelp Maiden

IN August Uncle John came all the way from California to make a visit at Hollyhock Place. The little Wests never tired of hearing him tell of the wonderful things that grew in that western land—of trees higher than church spires—of sea-gulls and pelicans—and of the queer California Woodpecker that bores holes in the trunks of dead trees and pounds an acorn into each hole for future use.

As the family sat out under the trees this jolly old uncle of theirs seemed to take as much interest in the funny home-made dolls as the children themselves did. It was he who showed them how to make the great fat-faced Humpty Dumpties out of the oval yellow “darning gourds” as Mamma called them.

And what fun they had making jingles—Uncle John and the little Wests. Songs he called them, and they were, too, for a tune always came with the words when he made them.

When their uncle left to go back to his California home the children missed him greatly and watched eagerly for the letter he promised them when he reached home. Two whole weeks passed before the letter arrived. When it came there was a small package with it.

What was in the package? There is no need to tell, the letter will explain. Here is the letter which made the children laugh as much as if Uncle John himself had been there telling them what he had written. Charlotte played and sang the song for them till they all learned it. But as I said, here is the letter:

SAN DIEGO, CALIF., September 1st, 1906.

MY DEAR NIECES AND NEPHEW:—

What do you think?

Your Uncle John is getting the doll habit! Since I visited you half the things I see turn into dolls as I look at them, and I immediately begin to make songs or jingles about them just as you do. As I sit at the table the dishes even, take doll form in my mind. The plates seem to have great moon faces, while the sugar bowl seems to stand with shoulders thrown up and arms akimbo like an awkward china washerwoman. The knives, forks and spoons are almost human with their shining faces.

This morning as I passed a bake-shop and glanced in at the window, the cakes and buns seemed to laugh and wink at me with the fat faces of their bakers.