The Jumble Book Part 13

LITTLE SIR CAT

Little Sir Cat Meets "The Maiden All Forlorn"

After leaving Cinderella's house Little Sir Cat continued his journey with a happy heart, for had he not had a fine night's rest and a good breakfast, and for a traveler that is a good beginning. The road now led through the country, with well-kept farm lands on either side.

"That looks like the House That Jack Built!" he exclaimed, as he neared a big farm house. Sure enough it was, for there in the meadow close by was the Cow With the Crumpled Horn, and leaning against the turnstile at the corner of the fence was the Maiden All Forlorn.

"Good morning, Miss," said Little Sir Cat, but for an answer the maiden began to cry.

"Don't cry," he said, wiping the tears from her eyes, for he was a very tender-hearted puss. "Don't cry."

"I can't help it," whimpered the Maiden All Forlorn. "You'd cry, too, if you'd been kissed by the Man All Tattered and Torn."

"Did it tickle?" inquired Little Sir Cat.

"Tickle!" exclaimed the Maiden All Forlorn. "It scratched! But where are you going?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: LITTLE SIR CAT MEETS "THE MAIDEN ALL FORLORN"]

"Where am I going?" he repeated. "Why, I'm seeking my fortune." And then Piggie Porker began to cry. I guess he felt that n.o.body cared much about him for the Maiden All Forlorn hadn't noticed him at all.

"_n.o.body, n.o.body cares for me, I feel as lonely as can be.

I'm a character in Mother Goose, So I consider you've no excuse Not to speak a word to me, Piggie Porker, diddle dum dee._"

"You naughty pig," said the Maiden All Forlorn, "how did you get out of your sty?" So he told her how Georgy Porgy had teased him until he had run-away. Well, after that she invited Little Sir Cat to visit the House that Jack Built, which was just a little ways off on the green hill. So the three went through the stile and by-and-by they found Jack himself making a garage in which to keep his new automobile, for in Mother Goose Land, now-a-days, automobiles are quite the thing, you know.

But, oh, dear me! As soon as the Dog that Worried the Cat saw Little Sir Kitten, he commenced to growl. But pretty soon he stopped, and, wagging his tail, asked about Old Mother Hubbard's dog. After that all the people who lived in the House that Jack Built came out to say "How do you do," even the Man All Tattered and Torn, and the nice old Priest All Shaven and Shorn, and the Rooster Who Crowed in the Early Morn. And, let me see! Who else greeted Little Sir Cat? Why, Little Boy Blue with his bright tin horn, and the Sheep that Trampled the Waving Corn, and, oh, dear me again, I can't go on like this any longer, unless I can find a word to rhyme with corn.

"I must be going, my pretty maid," said Little Sir Cat, gallantly taking off his hat with the long feather and bowing. Then away he went to find his fortune.

And maybe he will in the next story, unless--

_The big high church steeple Falls down on the people._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Little Jack Horner

Little Jack Horner sat in the corner Of his father's candy shop.

He held in his thumb, not a sugarplum.

But a licious lolly-pop!

How Mister Breeze Saved Marjorie's Easter Lily

It was Easter morning and the happy bells from belfry and steeple were ringing out the glad Easter tidings. Sunday School was just over and Marjorie walked through the Park on her way home. In her arms she carried a large pot of lilies and a little fluffy yellow chick,--a tiny fuzzy yellow chicken,--which she had received from the Sunday School for Easter. The flower pot was rather heavy, and after a while, Marjorie became tired, so she sat down on a bench to rest. Crossing one little fat leg over the other she carefully balanced the lily on her knee, and tucked the small chicken under her arm for safe keeping. It was quite windy, and the ribbons on her hat stretched out behind like the tail of a kite, but Marjorie didn't care nearly as much about her pretty Easter hat being blown off her head as she did about the lilies being broken by the mischievous breeze. It made so much noise rustling the dried leaves and branches, that she didn't hear a big white bunny creep up softly behind the bench. He looked cautiously around with his bright pink eyes, but there was n.o.body near. The big policeman, who had pa.s.sed but a moment before with a smile and a nod to Marjorie, was far down the path. The nurse in gray uniform with the pink and white baby in the smart English carriage, had disappeared in the distance, and, best of all, Marjorie's face was turned the other way. So up jumped Mr. White Bunny on the back of the bench, and creeping along the narrow top rail, commenced very softly to nibble the beautiful green leaves of the Easter Lily.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The little yellow chicken saw him, but he didn't say a word to Marjorie; he just snuggled up under her arm.

Perhaps the bunny looked as big as a polar bear to the fuzzy yellow chicken. At any rate, the little chicken never peeped! He wasn't going to take any chances with a big animal like that!

A sparrow close by tried his best to tell Marjorie that her lovely lily was being devoured, but she only laughed when he fluttered his wings and twittered.

"Isn't he pretty?" she thought. "He's a funny little fellow," and she watched him hop about, not understanding that he was trying his best to save her Easter flower.

Even the mischievous breeze began to feel sorry for the little girl and tried to blow away the leaves from the bunny's mouth, but Mr. Bunny crept up closer and quietly kept on nibbling. This was too much for the mischievous little breeze. He gave another hard puff, almost overturning the flower pot.

Marjorie gave a little scream when she saw what Mr. Bunny had done, and then of course he scampered away.

"You naughty little rabbit," she cried, lifting up the half-eaten leaf, "just see what you've done to my lily."

"If you had paid attention to me it wouldn't have happened," twittered the little sparrow. But of course Marjorie didn't understand him.

"I saved the lily for you," whispered the mischievous breeze, as she started for home. And I think she understood him, for she laughed as she pushed back her curls, as much as to say, "You needn't muss my hair all up telling me so, Mr. Breeze!"

"_Mary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow?"

"Oh, now that I have a car," she said, "It grows twice as fast, you know._"

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Harvey Peake_]

WHAT TO DO AT NIGHT

Outside my window in the tree The owl toots on his horn.

(It will be dark until the lark Comes singing in the dawn.)

Above the sky one little star Looks down with friendly eye.

(Thro' all the night it won't be light Until the sun's on high.)

It seems so long to wait to play I've 'most forgotten how.