Read Bikey the Skicycle and Other Tales of Jimmieboy Page 8


  Off in a field a hundred or more yards from the station were a lot ofmonkies playing baseball, and drollest of all, in front of theTotherwayville hotel, stood a huge lion smoking a cigar and talking withan elephant.

  "Well I never!" said Jimmieboy. "This seems to be a regular wild animalplace."

  Just as he spoke a baby elephant came running down to the stationholding a small envelope in his trunk. When he got to the platform helooked anxiously about him and then walking up to a funny lookingbaboon, who appeared to be depot master, engaged him in earnestconversation. The baboon took the envelope, read the address writtenupon it and said "he would see."

  Then he walked to the end of Jimmieboy's car and called for the porter.

  "Well, whad yo' want?" asked the porter.

  "Here's an invitation from the mayor to a young man who is said to be onthis car," said the baboon. "If he is, will you give it to him?"

  "Certainly," said the porter, his face wreathing with smiles."Certainly. He's hyah."

  Jimmieboy watched all this with interest, little thinking that theinvitation was for no less a person than himself. He soon discovered thefact, however, for the porter came to him instantly and handed him theenvelope. It was addressed simply to:

  MASTER JIMMIEBOY, Care of the Porter, Express Train, No. 6098. Kindness of Thomas Baby Elephant.

  "For me?" cried Jimmieboy.

  "Yassir," said the porter. "Hit's for you."

  Hurriedly tearing the envelope open, Jimmieboy took from it a delicatelyscented card on which was engraved:

  The Wild Animals Request your presence at their wonderful Exhibition of Trained Hagenbecks, This Afternoon at Two Absolute Safety Guaranteed. R. S. V. P.

  "Dear me!" cried Jimmieboy, excitedly, "I couldn't think of going. Ishould be afraid."

  "Oh, you needn't be afraid," said the porter. "Dey'se promised youabsolute safety, and I'll tell yo' just one thing. Animals soldom makespromises, but when dey does, dey keeps 'em. Dey's sort ob different frompeople in dat. Hit's twice as hard to get 'em to make promises but deyseems to be able to keep 'em twice as easy as people. I'd go if I wereyou. De conductor'll keep de train waitin' fo' you. Dere's on'y one manaboard dat's in a hurry an' he's travellin' on a free pass, so de roadain't liable fo' any delays to him. I'll go wid you."

  "But how do you know it'll be safe," added Jimmieboy. "I want to go verymuch, but----"

  "Howdiknow?" said the porter. "Ain't I took little folks to see de showbefo? Oh co'se I has an' dey've had de best time in de worl', an' comeback cryin' cause dey couldn't stay a week."

  "Very well, then," said Jimmieboy, "you can tell the baboon that I'll bevery glad to go."

  The porter informed the baboon who in turn acquainted the baby elephantwith the fact, whereupon the baby elephant took off his hat and bowingpolitely to Jimmieboy hastened back to the mayor's office with thelittle boy's reply.

  Shortly after the porter returned and said that he had fixed it with theconductor and that the train would wait, and so Jimmieboy and hischestnut colored friend started off. On the way he was gazed atcuriously by more wild animals than he had ever seen before, but theywere all very respectful to him, many of them bowing politely. Indeedthe only incivility he encountered at all was from a rude little boy whowas being led around by a handsome St. Bernard dog. The little boysnapped at him as he passed, but he was promptly muzzled by his master,and deprived of the bone he was eating for his luncheon.

  After walking along for about five minutes they came to a great circularbuilding, upon the outside of which was a huge sign.

  THE TRAINED HAGENBECKS.

  Matinee To-Day.

  Admission: Grown Animals 50 cents. Cubs, Puppies, etc. 4 dollars.

  Jimmieboy laughed. "That's funny. They charge less for grown animalsthan they do for baby animals."

  "Not so funny as your plan, mister," said a gruff voice at Jimmieboy'sside, very respectfully however.

  Jimmieboy looked around to see who it was that spoke and was a littlestartled at first to see that it was a fine specimen of a tiger that hadaddressed him.

  "Don't shrink," said the tiger, seeing that the little boy was somewhatfrightened. "I won't hurt you. I'm wild, but I'm kind. Let me show youmy smile--you'll see what a big smile it is, and some day you'll learnthat an animal with a fine open countenance like mine is when I smilecan't be a bad animal. But to come back to what you think is a funnyscheme. We charge more for cubs than for grown animals because they aremore trouble. We talked it all over when we started the show and wefound that there was ten times as much mischief in a cub or a puppy asthere is in a grown up bear or dog, so we charged more; only as we don'tmind a little mischief we make the babies pay only eight times as muchas the others. It's simple and very natural, I think."

  "That's true," said Jimmieboy. "It isn't so odd after all."

  And then they went inside, where Jimmieboy was received by the mayor, avery handsome lion, and his wife the lioness. All the other animalscheered and the little boy soon came to feel that he was surrounded byfriends; strange friends perhaps, but faithful ones. He sat in the frontof the mayor's box and watched the cage-enclosed ring in which theHagenbecks were to perform. A monkey band played several popular tunesin the gallery, after which the performance began.

  First a baboon came out and announced a performance by six trainedclowns, who he said would crack jokes and turn somersaults and makefunny grimaces just as they did in their native lair. The monkey bandstruck up a tune and in ran the clowns. To Jimmieboy's eyes they weremerely plain everyday circus clowns, but the way the baboon made themprance around was wonderful. One of the clowns was a trifle sulky anddidn't want to crack his joke, but the baboon kept flicking him with theend of his whip until finally he did crack it, although he might betternot have done so for he did it so badly that he spoiled it.

  After this a pelican walked out and announced with a proud air that hewould now exhibit his flock of trained dudes, who would dance and sing,and wear beautiful clothes and put the heads of their canes in theirmouths as intelligently as though they were pelicans and not dudes.Jimmieboy was delighted with them, for after all he was quite like otherboys and was accustomed to lavish a great deal of admiration upon suchthings as chewing gum and dudes. The most interesting feature of thedude exhibition was their chrysanthemum drill. It must have taken thepelican a long time to teach those dudes to pick up theirchrysanthemums and place them in their little button-holes with suchmilitary precision as they displayed. Everybody applauded this wildlyand a great roar of laughter greeted the dudes' acknowledgment of theapplause, for the magnificent way in which they took off their silk hatsand bowed was truly droll.

  "It's hard to believe they are merely human!" said the tiger toJimmieboy. "Their intelligence is more that of the pelican than of thehuman kind."

  "With a slight mixture of the monkey mind I should say, too," said theelephant. "I'm told these dudes are very imitative."

  "The Jumping Billikins!" cried the manager of the exhibition.

  "What on earth is a Jumping Billikins?" asked Jimmieboy, who had neverheard of an animal of that kind before.

  "Wait and see," said the tiger, with a laugh. "Most people call him anerve centre, but you wouldn't understand that, so I say wait and see."

  As Jimmieboy could do nothing else he waited and in a minute the jumpingBillikins appeared, followed by six men. The jumping Billikins wasnothing more than a pretty little boy, about five years of age, and whathe did chiefly was to jump. The six men would put sofas about the ringand the jumping Billikins would jump from one to the other as easily asthough he were a real chamois-skin goat. Then he gave a remarkableexhibition of his hopping powers. He hopped up and down on one leg fortwenty-eight minutes, much to the wonderment of the elephant, who strongas he was couldn't hop on one leg at all.

  "Now watch the men," whispered the tiger. "The jumping Billikins isgoing to have a romping match with them, and you'd hardly believe itbut he
'll have them worn out in less than five minutes and yet he'll beas fresh as a rose when he gets through."

  Jimmieboy watched, and such a romp as followed he never had seen before.The jumping Billikins was everywhere all the time. One second he'd beriding pickaback on one man, the next you'd find him sitting on anotherman's head trying to put his feet into the vest pockets of the third andfourth men, while with his hands he'd be playing tag with the others.There was no describing that romp, but as the tiger had said, beforefive minutes the men were exhausted and the jumping Billikins, fresh asever, was bowing his thanks to the audience for their applause. Then hewalked proudly from the ring and the worn-out men were carried off bythe baboon's assistants.

  The next thing on the programme was a talking contest between a parrotand a chatterbox, but this Jimmieboy never saw, for a sudden shriekfrom the engine waiting with the train at the station for his returncalled him away. The animals expressed their regret at his earlydeparture and requested him to come again sometime, which the littlefellow promised to do.

  "_I_ doan tink yo'll go again, mistah," said the porter, with a smile,as the train drew away from the station.

  "Why not?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "Because----" said the porter. "Be-cause----"

  And then, strange to say, he faded out of sight and Jimmieboy, rubbinghis eyes, was astonished to find that he wasn't on a railway train atall but in his papa's lap, where he had been all along.

  AN ELECTRICAL ERROR

  _AN ELECTRICAL ERROR_

  Jimmieboy's father and mother had occasion to go to the city for acouple of days recently, and inasmuch as Jimmieboy is such a very moveyyoung person they did not deem it well to leave him at home in the careof the nurse, who had as much as she could do taking care of hisbrothers, and so they took him along with them. One evening, having togo out to dinner, they invited a young man in Jimmieboy's father'semploy to come up to the hotel and stay about and keep the little fellowamused until his bedtime, and to look out for him as well after thattime until their return, which Fred was very willing to do since hereceived $2 reward for his trouble. He said afterward that he earnedthe two dollars in the first ten minutes playing Waterloo withJimmieboy, in which pleasing game Jimmieboy was Wellington and Fred wasNapoleon, but once a year he didn't mind earning a dollar or two extrain that way.

  After the game of Waterloo was over and the Napoleonic Fred had managedto collect the buttons which had been removed from his vest in the firsthalf of the game, the Wellingtonian Jimmieboy decided that he was tiredenough to go to bed, and inasmuch as Fred didn't oppose him very hard,to bed he went, and a half hour later both the boys, young and old, weresnoring away as though their lives depended on it. It was quite evidentthat neither of them was as yet sufficiently strong to stand the game ofWaterloo for more than an hour--and I don't really wonder at it, for myown experience has led me to believe that even Bonaparte and Wellingtonthemselves would have been wearied beyond endurance by an hour's play atthat diversion, however well they may have stood up under the anxietiesof the original battle. In my first game with Jimmieboy I lost fivepounds, eight buttons, a necktie, two handfuls of hair and a portion ofmy temper. So, as I say, I do not wonder that they were exhausted bytheir efforts and willing to rest after them, though how either of themcould sleep with the other snoring as loud as a factory whistle I couldnever understand.

  Fred must have been unusually weary, for, as you will see, he slept morethan Jimmieboy did--in fact, it wasn't later than nine o'clock when thelatter waked up.

  "Say, Fred," he cried.

  Fred answered with a deeper snore than ever.

  "Fred!" cried Jimmieboy again. "I want a drink of water."

  "Puggrrh," snored Fred.

  "Stop your growling and ring the telephone for some ice water," saidJimmieboy, and again Fred answered with a snore, and in his sleepmuttered something that sounded like "It'll cost you $10 next time," themeaning of which Jimmieboy didn't understand, but which I think had somereference to what it would cost his father to secure Fred as a companionfor Jimmieboy on another occasion.

  "Guess I'll have to ring it up myself," said Jimmieboy, and with that hejumped out of bed and rushed to that delightful machine which is now tobe found in most of the modern hotels, by means of which you can ring upanything you may happen to want, by turning a needle about on a dialuntil it points to the printed description of the thing you desire andpushing a red button.

  "Wonder how they spell ice water," said Jimmieboy. "E-y-e spells I, ands-e spells sss-e-y-e-s-e, ice." But he looked in vain for any such thingon the dial.

  "O, well," he said, after searching and searching, "I'll ring upanything, and when the boy comes with it I'll order the ice water."

  So he gave the needle an airy twist, pushed the button, and sat down towait for the boy. Meanwhile he threw a pillow at Fred, who still laysnoring away on the sofa, only now he was puffing like a freight trainengine when its wheels slip on an icy railway track.

  "Lazybones," snickered Jimmieboy, as the pillow landed on Fred's curlyhead. But Fred answered never a word, which so exasperated Jimmieboythat he got up with the intention of throwing himself at his sleepingcompanion, when he heard a queer noise over by the fireplace.

  "Hullo, down there, 521. Is that you?" cried somebody.

  Jimmieboy stared at the chimney in blank amazement.

  "Hurry up below there, 521. Is that you?" came the voice again.

  "This room is 521," replied Jimmieboy, realizing all of a sudden that itwas no doubt to him that these words were addressed.

  "Well, then, look sharp, will you? Turn off the fire--put it out--dosomething with it. You can't expect me to come down there with the fireburning, can you? I'm not fireproof, you know," returned the voice.

  "There isn't any fire here," said Jimmieboy.

  "Nonsense," cried the voice. "What's that roaring I hear?"

  "Oh--that," Jimmieboy answered. "That's Fred. He's snoring."

  "Ah! Then I will come down," came the voice, and in an instant there wasa small fall of soot, a rustling in the chimney, and a round-faced,fat-stomached, white-bearded little old gentleman with a twinkling eye,appeared, falling like a football into the grate and bounding like atennis ball out into the middle of the floor.

  "Santa Claus, at your service," he said, bowing low to Jimmieboy.

  The boy looked at him breathless with astonishment for a moment.

  "Well--well----" put in the old man impatiently. "What is it you wantwith me? I'm very busy, so pray don't detain me. Is it one of my newConversational Brownies you are after? If so, say so. Fine things, theseConversational Brownies."

  "I never heard of 'em," said Jimmieboy.

  "Coz why?" laughed Santa Claus, twirling airily about on the toes of hisleft foot. "Coz why? Bee-coz there ain't never been any for you to hearabout. I invented 'em all by myself. You have Brownies in books thatdon't move. Good. I like 'em, you like 'em, we all like 'em. You haveBrownies out of books. Better--but they can't talk and all bee-cozthey're stuffed with cotton. It isn't their fault. It's the cotton'sfault. Take a man and stuff him with cotton and he wouldn't be able tosay a word, but stuff him with wit and anecdotes and he'll talk.Wherefore I have invented a Conversational Brownie. He's made of calico,but he's stuffed with remarks, and he has a little metal hole in hismouth, and when you squeeze him remarks oozes out between his lips andthere you are. Eh? Fine?"

  "Bully," said Jimmieboy.

  "Was that what you rang for? Quick, hurry up, I haven't any time towaste at this season of the year."

  "Well, no," Jimmieboy answered. "Not having ever heard of 'em, ofcourse."

  "Oh, then you wanted one of my live wood doll babies," said Santa Claus."Of course. They're rather better than the Conversational Brownies,perhaps, I guess; I don't know. Still, they last longer, as long as youwater 'em. Was it one of those you wanted?"

  "What is a live wood doll baby?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "One o' my newest new, new things," replied Santa C
laus. "'Stead o'making wooden dolls out of dead wood, I makes 'em out o' live wood. Keepsome o' the roots alive, make your doll, plant it proper, water it, andit'll grow just like a man. My live oak dolls that I'm making this year,a hundred years from now will be great giants."

  "Splendid idea," said Jimmieboy. "But how about the leaves. Don't theysprout out and hide the doll?"

  "Of course they do, if you don't see that they're pulled off," retortedSanta Claus. "You don't expect me to give you toys and look after 'emall at the same time, do you?"

  "No," said Jimmieboy.

  "Well, it's good you don't," said Santa Claus, turning a somersaultbackward. "It's werry good you don't, for should you had have you'd havebeen disappointed. But, I say, was that what you wanted, or were youafter one of my new patent typewriters that you wind up? Don't keep mewaiting all night----"

  "I never heard of your new patent typewriters that you wind up,"Jimmieboy answered.

  "That isn't the question," interrupted Santa Claus nervously, "though Isuppose it's the answer, for if you had heard of my windable writer itwould have been the thing you wanted. It's a grand invention, thatmachine. You take a key, wind the thing up, having first loaded it withpaper, and what do you suppose it does?"