Queer Stories for Boys and Girls Part 12

"Ha! ha! lazy fellow! lazy fellow!"

This time there seemed to be half a dozen voices, but Larkin felt too lazy to look up.

"Ha! ha! very lazy fellow!"

Larkin just got one eye open a little, and looked around to see where the sound came from. After a while, he saw a dozen or more very odd, queer-looking creatures, sitting on the broad, round leaves of the water-lilies, that floated on the surface of the lake. These little people had white caps, for all the world like the white lily blossoms that were bobbing up and down around them. In fact, it took Larkin some time to make out clearly that they were not lilies. But finally he saw their faces peeping out, and noticed that they had no hands, but only fins instead. Then he noticed that their coats were beautifully mottled, like the sides of the pickerel, and their feet flattened out, like a fish's tail. Soon he saw that others of the same kind were coming up, all dripping, from the water, and taking their places on the leaves; and as each new-comer arrived, the others kept saying,

"Ha! ha! lazy fellow! very lazy fellow!"

And then the others would look at him, and shake their speckled sides with laughter, and say, "Lazy fellow! ha! ha!"

Poor Larkin was used to being laughed at, but it was provoking to be laughed at by these queer-looking folk, sitting on the lilies in the water. Soon he saw that there were nearly a hundred of them gathered.

"Come on, Joblilies!" cried one of them, who carried a long fish-bone, and seemed to be leader; "let's make a Joblily of him."

Upon that the whole swarm of them came ash.o.r.e. The leader stuck his fish-bone in Larkin, and made him cry out. Then they all set up another laugh, and another cry of "lazy fellow!"

"Bring me three grains of silver-white sand from the middle of the lake,"

said the leader; and two of them jumped into the water and disappeared.

"Now fetch three blades of dry gra.s.s from the lining of the kingfisher's nest," he said; and immediately two others were gone.

When the four returned, the leader dropped the grains of sand in Larkin's eyes, saying,

"Three grains of silver sand, From the Joblily's hand!

Where shall the Joblily lie, When the young owl learns to fly?"

Then they all jumped upon him and stamped, but Larkin could not move hand or foot. In fact, he found that his hands were flattening out, like fins.

The leader then put the three blades of gra.s.s in Larkin's mouth, and said,

"Eat a dry blade! eat a dry blade!

From the nest that the kingfisher made!

What will the Joblilies do, When the old owl cries tu-whoo?"

And then the whole party set up such a cry of "tu-whoo! tu-whoo!" that Larkin was frightened beyond measure; and they caught him and rolled him over rapidly, until he found himself falling with a great splash into the water. On rising to the surface, he saw that he was changed into a Joblily himself.

Then the whole party broke out singing,

"When the sun s.h.i.+nes the Joblilies roam; When the storm comes we play with the foam; When the owl hoots Joblilies fly home!"

When they had sung this, they all went under the water; and the leader, giving Larkin a thrust with his fish-bone, cried out, "Come along!" and Lazy Larkin had nothing to do but to swim after them. Once under the water, the scene was exceedingly beautiful. The great umbrella-like leaves of the lilies made spots of shadow in the water and on the pebbles of the bottom, while the streaks of suns.h.i.+ne that came down between flecked everything with patches of glorious light, just as you have seen the hills and valleys made glorious by alternate patches of light and shade, produced by the shadows of the clouds. And the tall lily stems, in the soft light, appeared to be pillars, while the great variety of water weed, that wound about them in strange festoons, was glorious beyond description. There were beautiful ba.s.s turning their sides up to the sun, and darting about through these strange, weird scenes, seeming to enjoy their glorious abode.

"You have an easy time of it, no doubt," said Larkin, to one of these fish.

"Easy time of it, indeed! I have rather a happy time of it, because I have plenty to do; but you are a strange Joblily if you do not know that I have anything but an easy time of it. Chasing minnows, jumping three feet out of water after a b.u.t.terfly, catching wigglers and mosquitoes, and keeping a sharp lookout for unlucky gra.s.shoppers that may chance to fall in my way; all these are not easy. I tell you, there is no family of our social position that has more trouble to earn a living than the ba.s.s family."

"Come along," said the Joblily, giving another punch with his fish-bone; and Larkin travelled on.

Presently they came to a log with something growing on it.

"What beautiful moss!"

"Moss, indeed!" said one of the Joblilies; "that is a colony of small animals, all fast to one stem."

"They have an easy time of it, I suppose," said Lazy Larkin; "they don't have to travel, for they cannot move."

"True, but these beautiful, transparent moss animals have to get their living by catching creatures so small that you cannot see them. They have great numbers of little fingers or feelers that are going all the time."

Larkin touched one, and it immediately drew itself in,--really _swallowed itself_; for these little things take this way of saving themselves from harm.

And so Larkin swam on, and found that it was a busy world beneath the lake. He saw mussels slowly crawling through the sand; he found that the pickerel, which he had supposed idle, was really standing guard over her nest, and fanning the water with her fins all day long, that a current of fresh water might be supplied to her eggs. And all the time the Joblilies kept singing--

"Work! work!

Never s.h.i.+rk!

There is work for you, Work for all to do!

Happy they who do it, They that s.h.i.+rk shall rue it!"

And after their long swim around the lake, the Joblilies came back to Duck Point again, and climbed out on the lily leaves. No sooner had Larkin seated himself with the rest than he heard a great owl cry, "Tu-whit! tu-whoo!"

Immediately the Joblilies leaped into the air, and the whole hundred of them dashed into the water like so many bull-frogs, crying, as they came down,

"What will the Joblily do, When the great owl cries tu-whoo?"

Larkin looked around suddenly to see whither they had gone, but could discover no trace of them. A moment after, he found himself sitting under the same tree that he was under when the Joblilies came for him. The boys had gone, and he was forced to walk home alone. He thought carefully over his trip with the Joblilies, and, I am glad to say, gradually learned to be more industrious, though it took him a long while to overcome his lazy habits, and still longer to get rid of the name of Lazy Larkin. But he remembered the jingle of the Joblilies, and I trust you will not forget it:

"Work! work!

Never s.h.i.+rk!

There is work for you, Work for all to do!

Happy they who do it, They that s.h.i.+rk shall rue it!"

THE PICKANINNY.

It was rather a warm day in autumn. Aunt Cheerie had given the sewing-machine and the piano a holiday, and was sitting in the woodshed, paring apples for preserves. Wherever Aunt Cheerie was, the children were sure to be; and so there was Sunbeam, knife in hand, and Fairy, cutting a paring something less than half an inch thick, while the dear little Chicken was wiping apples for the others to pare, and little Tow-head, baby-brother, was trying to upset the peach-box, in which were a couple of pet chickens, that were hatched out too late, and that had to be kept in-doors to secure them from Jack Frost. For you must know that at "The Nest" Sunbeam is called the "Old Hen." That is, she has charge of the chickens. They know her so well that, when she feeds them, they fly up on her shoulders and eat out of her hands. And if there is any unfortunate one, it is well cared for. One poor, little wayward pullet wandered into our neighbor's garden. She was very naughty, doubtless, but she got severely punished; for our neighbor thinks a great deal of his garden, and not much of chickens, unless they are frica.s.seed. He shot at our little runaway pullet, and the poor thing came home dragging a broken and useless leg. Now, if any chicken ever had good care, our little "Lamey"

has. After weary weeks of suffering in hot weather, it is at last able to walk on both feet, though the broken leg is sadly crooked. The children do not object to having the other chickens killed for the table, but little Lamey's life is insured.

But how did I get to talking about chickens? I was going to say that when I came home, and found the folks paring apples, I went out in the shed, too, and sat down by the Little Chick.

And Chicken Little jerked her head and looked mischievously out of her bright eyes, and said: "See how nice we is peelin' apples. We's makin'

peserves, we is; 'cause they is good to eat, they is. And you mus' tell me a story, you mus', 'cause I'm a-helpin' Aunt Cheerie, I am."

For you must know that the Small Chick is not very polite, and doesn't say "please," when she can help it.

"Lend us a hand at the apples, too," said Aunt Cheerie.

"No, I can't tell stories and pare apples, too."