Part 5

“He danced about shouting for joy, and each day after that, could fairly see the little sprig turn into a tree.

“Johnny told him how the seeds sent tiny roots down into the earth and pushed the stem up through the ground, and Jack could hardly leave the spot which had now grown so dear.

“When the little tree was thirsty, the rain gave it drink. The kind wind blew and blew, bringing fresh sweet air for it to breathe, and with every whiff it seemed to swell.

“The spring sunshine warmed it down to its roots, and in time there were twigs with leaf buds, which presently uncurled and opened wide.

“‘See!’ said Johnny, ‘as the wind blows them they look like baby hands throwing kisses!’

“‘Yeth!’ cried Jack, ‘maybe they are the kitheth I planted.’

“‘To be sure,’ Johnny replied, and together they watched it grow day after day, week after week, month after month.

“Jack’s next birthday found the little tree a picture to behold. The trunk was sturdy, and on it there were many branches appearing here and there.

“Jack was quite a boy by this time, and soon after his little dresses were replaced by tiny trousers. His baby talk was no more, and he was now old enough to help care for the little tree.

“He dug about its roots with his wee spade, and Johnny showed him how to enrich the soil, and told him many things about the care of trees.

“It was so splendid to know that as the tree spread its branches in the air, so it spread its roots under the ground, giving it such a firm support the wind would have to be very strong indeed to blow it over.

“‘How does it drink?’ the boy asked one day.

“‘Oh, such a fine way. It is a story all by itself,’ replied Johnny. ‘At the end of each root there are wee spongy mouths. When the rain comes they drink it and whisper “Run fast to the trunk.”

“‘As it rushes through the trunk, the trunk cries in a gruff voice, “Run along to the branches.”

“‘The branches wave and in sweet tones cry, “Welcome, run along to the twigs, they need you.” The twigs drink it and whisper, “Run along to the stems; they are just waiting for you.” The stems send it out to the tip end of the leaves as they wildly wave and laugh aloud over their sweet gift, for this water in the tree is sweet food that nourishes every part and is called sap.’

“This was a fine story, and every time it rained Jack watched the little tree, and thought he could almost hear the voices sending the moisture on and on.

“As time passed the tree became stronger and larger, and finally one spring day when Jack was quite a big boy he found buds on the branches.

“‘Buds!’ he called in great excitement, and real buds they were, which the whole family came out to admire.

“The buds blossomed, and as the petals snowed down the air was sweet with their fragrance.

“When Jack found baby apples on his tree he wanted to celebrate, and Mother told him that when they were ripe he could invite his friends and have an apple party.

“An apple party! That would be something new, and he hastened to tell the good news at school.

“‘They are wonderful apples,’ he said. ‘No one in this part of the country has any like them. I tell you we’ll have the fun at that party. They are turning crimson; you never saw such a pretty apple tree!’

“A pretty tree it was indeed, and looked just like a Christmas tree all dressed up.

“One day Johnny pronounced the fruit ripe and ready to eat.

“‘Hurrah! To-morrow we can have the party,’ cried Jack, tossing his cap into the air.

“Now the fun began. Mother baked all sorts of goodies, and the little home was made spick-and-span; even the door yard was swept for this occasion.

“The day dawned sweet and clear. After breakfast Jack ran out to take one look at his beloved tree, but alas! What do you s’pose?

“‘What!’ cried the audience in one breath.

“A cow had broken into the orchard, tramped the fence down, and was feasting on the rosy fruit! A few branches were broken, and a sorry sight it was, to be sure.

“Jack shrieked and threw himself on the ground sobbing:

“‘My dear little tree I planted with my own baby hands! I loved it so! Now it is ruined!’

“Johnny Appleseed heard the wail and hastened to the scene.

“‘It isn’t ruined, Jack; it can be made almost as good as new. See!’ He skilfully cut the broken branches, covered the wounded spots with a paste made of clay, talking the while to the little tree as though it were a person whose wounds he was binding up so carefully.

“‘See!’ he said. ‘This clay paste will harden and keep the bugs out of the wood until it can heal over. It will soon be all right again, but it is too bad. Such a picture as it was, and the apples are most all gone!’

“The apples!—Jack suddenly remembered. ‘The apple party was to be to-day! What can we do?’

“‘Well, my boy, don’t you worry. The apple party will be to-day just the same. We’ll take this basket and I’ll show you something I’ve kept as a surprise.

“‘I planted the seeds that were left over in the far corner lot, and those trees are as pretty a sight as you want to see. I have been watching them as we have this. Come along.’

“The two trudged on, Jack wiping away his tears and beginning to wear a rainbow smile after the shower.

“‘It’s a joke, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘That cow had an apple party all by herself. I s’pose she didn’t like it because I didn’t invite her.

“‘Oh!’ he exclaimed suddenly, ‘there they are. How beautiful!’

“And indeed they were beautiful. A number of trees exactly like his own, all looking so thrifty, and the branches dotted with rosy fruit.

“‘We’ll pick the apples and tie the stems to the branches of your own little tree, because that is where you planned to have your party,’ said Johnny.

“Together they picked the apples, and with green string tied the stems to the branches of the little tree.

“‘You’d hardly know it happened!’ cried the boy in joyous tones as the work was finished, and both stood back to admire; and true it was, for the apples really seemed to be growing, and so the apple party was a success after all.

“The children had their lunch under the little tree, then each picked his own apple and ate it before you could say, ‘Jack Robinson.’

“‘I know a great thing to do,’ cried Jack, as they were about to throw away the core; ‘save the seeds and plant them, and we’ll all be Johnny Appleseeds. You’ll each have a grand orchard started on your farm.’

“‘Splendid!’ laughed the old man. ‘If every seed brings forth a tree there will be great rejoicing when you take the apples to market, for they are certainly the best apples I ever tasted and should bring a good price.’

“Wild with excitement, the children trooped home, and before long the glossy seeds were covered up in the ground, waiting for the wonderful thing that was to happen to them.

“In time there were many trees bearing the rosy fruit. All through one little boy having such a fine birthday party.

“A tree is the dearest of treasures. I mean any kind of tree. It does so many things. It gives fruit and shade. It gives the birds a place to build their homes, and in return you have their beautiful music all through the summer. It gives the squirrels a place to hide their nuts. From the trunk many insects find their food.

“If it were not for the trees there would be no mince pies. From the trees are built the ships which bring from foreign countries these many goodies. How could we have any houses, or any furniture to put in them, if there were no trees? See that splendid back log. It has kept us warm all the long night. It came from a grand old tree that furnished fuel for many a winter fire.

“And now I must stop, for I fear my tale has been too long. If it has, please excuse me.”

“How splendid!” chorused the audience. And little Allspice begged for another.

THE TALE OF THE STOLEN DOLL CLOTHES

Nutmeg cried: “I know a grand one! It happened right in a forest near where I grew.

“You know those woods are full of monkeys, and they have great times. One of their traits is to mimic. They usually do what they see others do, and a good thing it was for the boy I’m going to tell you about.

“The boy’s name was Enrico. He lived with his widowed mother at the edge of the forest. They were very poor and had tried in many ways to earn money without success.

“The mother was handy with her needle, and one day a neighbour child came in with her naked doll.

“‘I’ll dress it,’ said the mother, and from her scrap bag produced cloth which she soon fashioned into a quaint gown for the doll.

“‘Mother!’ cried Enrico, much excited, ‘there are many dolls in the town, without clothes. Could you not make them and I will sell them? I know I can.’

“‘We’ll try,’ said Mother. She emptied her purse, ran to the store, and soon returned heavily laden with gay materials, from which she fashioned coats, gowns, petticoats, bonnets, hats and all sorts of things for dolls.

“Enrico could scarcely wait for the time to come when he could go and try his luck at selling them. One morning he started with his basket well filled.

“His eyes shone, and his heart beat fast as he hurried along. He had to pass through the forest to reach the town. It was a long walk, and a hot day.

“‘I think it is time to eat my lunch,’ he presently said to himself as he sat down under the trees. He was obliged to empty the basket as the lunch was underneath the garments.

“He laid them in a neat pile and found the sandwiches and fruit which his mother had carefully prepared. He had barely finished when his head toppled over against a tree and he was fast asleep.

“And now comes the best part of the story. What do you think happened to those lovely doll clothes?”

“Don’t stop!” cried Allspice. “Do tell us!”

“As the lad slept, there came a chattering and whisking about. In a moment dozens of monkeys came down from the trees. They gobbled up the crumbs, and then turned to the doll clothes. Almost before you could say ‘Jack Robinson,’ they were robed in the tiny garments, and such a sight you never saw. They looked like a lot of gnomes dressed for a party. They played all sorts of games and raced wildly about in the greatest glee. Suddenly Enrico opened his eyes on the scene.

“‘The doll clothes. The doll clothes,’ he wailed. ‘Give them back!’

“The monkeys saucily nodded their heads and quickly climbed into the trees. Swinging from the branches with their tails curled about the limbs, they chattered as though crying, ‘Get them if you can! Get them if you can!’

“This was serious, and Enrico sat watching and wondering what he could do, for he must have the clothes at once.

“Suddenly he remembered the monkey’s desire to imitate. In the long ago his father had told him how they did just what they saw people do.

“It was worth trying, and the boy arose and threw off his cap.

“At once hats and bonnets were snowed down upon him. Enrico gathered them up and placed them in his basket.

“Then off came his coat. Coats of all sorts now dropped about him.

“Chuckling to himself, Enrico now removed his other garments, and immediately tumbled down the gay-coloured gowns and snowy underwear.

“Enrico gathered them up as fast as he could, fearing the monkeys might descend upon him and once more rob him of his treasures.

“He then dressed himself and hurried on. He found a ready sale for his wares in the market, and with a purse full of money, and requests for many more garments of the same sort, he hastened home to tell his mother of his good fortune.

“There was great rejoicing in the little home, and the day came when Enrico was selling doll clothes in his own little shop in the heart of the city.

“A dear little shop it was with a home in the back where his mother cooked and sewed on the dainty garments.

“Enrico never tired of telling the children who came to buy, how he almost lost the first lot of doll clothes he ever started out to sell.”

General applause followed this interesting story, while the chairman cried, “Splendid! Splendid! It was most entertaining, and now I think the hour has arrived when we should hear from Beef and her creamy companion, both of whom remind me of Mary and her lamb, because where one goes the other follows.”

TALE OF THE BROWNIE DOLL

The odd Brownie now came forward, with the creamy toddler holding fast to her hand. They both bowed, and the Brownie began:

“I am commonly known as Beef, and I come not from the sheep or hog, but from the cow.

“As to where I come from, it would be hard to tell where I am not to be found, for I believe cows roam about over the whole world.

“You may ride on trains anywhere and everywhere; you may sail on boats; you may go up in flying machines, you will always see cows.

“I do not know of anything that seems quite as necessary as the cow, both for meat and for milk.

“I came from a certain cow that spent most of its time in a green meadow where birds sang above her head, and a near-by brook gurgled over the stones, making the sweetest music.

“Night and morning a maid came with a shiny pail on her arm; as she milked the Bossy she sang to the accompaniment of the brook.

“Often two little children came, each with a silver cup, for a drink of the warm foaming milk.

“That cow was proud indeed to know that she furnished food for the little ones.

“She loved her home. She could hear the chickens clucking, the geese cackling, the lambs baaing, and the ponies neighing.

“She stood for hours looking off at the peaceful scene before her and seemed always content.

“Suddenly she found herself no more in the meadow but hanging in juicy quarters from a hook in a butcher shop. These quarters were cut up into various parts to be used for steaks, roasts, soup bones, beef tea, and all sorts of good things.

“At this time the store was trimmed up with bunches of green leaves and bright red berries. Scarlet Christmas bells nodded on all sides.

“It seemed to be a gay and festive scene. Sleigh bells jingled, telephones rang constantly, and finally I was placed in a basket with other goodies, and the next thing I knew I was flying over the snow in a bob sled.

“My basket was presently left on a kitchen table. Thereupon I was taken from the package. A fat lady gave me a poke with her finger, and nodded her head as she said:

“‘Fine cut. Just right for my mince meat.’ What that was I did not know, but I was placed in a kettle and bubbled around in hot water for some time, then I found myself in something else that was fastened to a table. A handle twirled and twirled, and I turned into a fine bunch of stuff, waiting for I knew not what.

“I’ll have to tell you about my little brother Suet, because he never could, he is so shy.

“I always noticed that when people bought beef, they chose the parts that had creamy fat clinging to them. They said they were sweeter and more tender, and that fat is this little brother of mine, and that’s why he clings so closely to me. That’s where he belongs.

“In a moment as I lay in the dish, all ground up, I felt coming down all over me wee bits of creamy fat, so you see he still followed me.

“I was much interested to know what mince meat was, and I kept my eyes and ears open to see what would happen next.

“It was a busy scene I looked out upon. One person was stoning raisins. Another was peeling apples. All sorts of spices were being ground. Citron was being cut up very fine, also orange and lemon peel. The vinegar, molasses, and cider jugs were brought forth.

“Then everything was put into a wooden bowl, and as they were chopped they all seemed to be singing the merriest of tunes. By and by the mixture was tumbled into a crock with me, and I found I was beginning to swell and to be quite important. I was stirred and stirred, and then various people came and tasted and smacked their lips and tasted again. One said, ‘A little more sugar, don’t you think so?’ Another looking very wise said, ‘Needs more spice,’ and so I was doctored and fussed with till finally I was pronounced just right, and I knew _the_ time had arrived.

“I felt as one does at a circus when they have the grand entrée and I fairly held my breath as I waited for the next act. I was mince meat at last.

“Suddenly I was poured into what seemed to be a round white blanket. It was so soft and cushiony I rejoiced over such a fate, but alas, another blanket was placed over me. There were no sheets on this bed, and it was as dark as a pocket. In a moment tiny eyelet holes appeared, from which I could peep through up into the eyes of the busy cook. Then a black door swung open. I was placed within a dark cavern, the door swung back, and all was still.

“I felt myself growing warmer and warmer. My bed turned from soft blankets to crispy covers. I bubbled and boiled, and presently when the cover was a golden brown the door flew open, and once more I came out into the light of day.

“I was placed in a window to cool, and the whole family came out to admire me. I felt so proud I could hardly keep still.

“I knew I was intended for some wonderful event. Mr. Cinnamon Stick, you said this pie was for the Christmas dinner to-morrow. Is it for an ornament or a decoration of some sort?”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” sang the chorus, “you will soon learn when to-morrow comes what you will decorate.”

“Why?” asked the Brownie, in alarm. “What will happen? What will they do with this pie?”

“Oh!” laughed Cinnamon Stick, “it’s hard to tell; they _might_ do any one of a number of things.

“It _might_ be suspended on chains from the chandelier, and swing to the tune of an orchestra.

“They _might_ start it rolling across the hardwood floor down that large hall, and wager whether it would fall upside down or downside up.

“There are many things that _might_ be done with it, but what’s the use of worrying about to-morrow. We still have much of the night to pass away.

“Here! what’s this rolling across the floor?”

TALE OF THE PIE CRUST

They all looked to see the pie itself rolling along mysteriously and silently. When it reached the hearth it spun round and round for a moment, then paused and began to speak.

“If you please, Mr. Chairman, and Ladies and Gentlemen, you are forgetting me, the most important part of the pie.

“I am the crust, and whoever heard of a pie of any kind without a crust? No one, of course, and so since I am really the most important member of the large family, I think I should have my turn.”

“You certainly should!” cried Cinnamon Stick. “I am sorry I neglected to call you. We are glad, indeed, to hear your story. What are you made of?”

“I am composed of flour, lard, and water—”

“You’d be ruined if you didn’t put a pinch of me in,” cried Little Salt eagerly.

“Certainly I would. Thank you for not allowing me to be spoiled.

“Of course you all know flour is made from wheat. The wheat plant is a grass which looks much like barley and rye.

“The varieties are called, bearded, and beardless or bald.

“Some are planted in spring, for spring or summer wheat. Other kinds in the fall to be ready the next season, that is winter wheat. The latter was at one time thought to be the best, but lately with improved methods of manufacture the spring wheat is equally as good.

“There are two kinds, white and red. Of the winter wheat the white is best.

“Wheat is chiefly used for flour. The finest, but not the most wholesome, is nearest pure starch. The richer parts are found nearest the skin and are secured in the graham flour.

“Wheat has been known always, is mentioned in the Bible, and is found almost everywhere.

“China wheat is a spring wheat, and this is where it came from. Once upon a time some one had a chest of tea sent to him. It was a wonderful gift to have, and was highly prized. In that tea was found a curious grain. No one knew what it was, but they decided to plant it. From that came wheat, and was called spring wheat.

“If you have been in the country you know how the wheat is cut with big machines, and taken to the barn.

“Then many men appear and they thresh it. That means to get the chaff, the outer husk, off. Then the grain is taken to the mill and ground into flour.

“The flour is used for bread, cake, pies, and almost all of the baked stuff we have.

“Lard is made from pork fat. The fat is boiled or rendered.

“Water is composed of two parts of hydrogen and one of oxygen, commonly called H_2O. Pure water can be obtained by distillation from the ocean, as is often done at sea. Some towns on the South American Coast have been supplied in this way.

“The chief source of supply for water which falls on the earth is from the ocean. The heat of the sun raises a vapour from its surface. This vapour condenses and falls as rain or snow, either on sea or land. Rain after falling for some time is almost pure and for that reason is called soft. Hard water contains various minerals.

“That’s all about the crust. It isn’t very interesting, nor funny, but it is good and everybody loves it.”

“Indeed, it is good, and most necessary to every pie,” declared the Cinnamon Doll.

“And now suppose we wish for the Story Sprite. She is a dear and we have time for just one more story.”

This wish was hardly expressed when the sound of bells was heard and there before them stood the Story Lady, bringing with her a joyous shower of bells.

“Oh, my dearies, this is the last time I can come!

“It is Christmas, as you know, and many Christmas parties are awaiting me, but I just had to keep my promise to you.

“This time I want to tell you a Christmas tale I am sure you will enjoy and love.

It is called:

HOW JACK FILLED THE STOCKINGS.

“It was Christmas Eve. The younger children were snugly tucked in bed, while Jack sat staring at the empty stockings swinging from the mantel shelf in the gleaming fire-light.

“Jack was only twelve, and the man of the house. His face was very grave as he gazed alternately at the stockings, then at his mother bustling about tidying up the room.

“She finally sat down, declaring sadly: ‘It’s no use, Jack. I haven’t a penny to spare; the stockings will have to go empty.’

“The boy spoke not a word, but watched the fire sputter and crackle as though perhaps it might solve the problem.

“Of one thing he was certain: the stockings should not go empty if he could help it.

“The fire _did_ show him the way, for suddenly the logs began to send out tiny sparks and snap for all the world like popcorn.

“‘Mother!’ he cried suddenly, ‘I have an idea. I’m going out.’

“‘Dress warm then, dear, and good luck to you.’

“The boy hurried out into the night, and _such_ a night!

“Snowflakes were flying thick and fast, and above his head the ice-coated trees spread their friendly branches. He loved the crisp, sharp air, and raised his face that the flakes might lodge and sting.

“Soon he reached the busy street and watched keenly for a chance to earn a dime.

“Suddenly he saw a woman carrying a suitcase, running for the car, while at her side toddled a child trying in vain to keep up with her.

“‘Let me help, may I?’ asked Jack wistfully.

“‘Oh, if you only would,’ replied the woman, grateful indeed for the aid.

“As they reached the corner she slipped a silver piece into his hand. The car stopped, then whizzed on, leaving Jack staring at the quarter, hardly able to believe it.

“‘A good beginning,’ he murmured, and ran into a near-by store, where he purchased a few ears of popcorn and a small jar of molasses.

“Mother, much surprised, welcomed the gifts and boy with open arms.

“‘I earned them, Mother! Make some corn balls and candy while I try again,’ and away he went.

“This time he was not so successful. Every one seemed busy and hurried past him, not even glancing at the eager, earnest face.

“On one corner a hand-organ man was grinding out his music. Jack watched to see the people stop and drop pennies into his little cup.