A Child-World Part 6

An' what's _your_ name?" I says to him.

An'he Ist laugh an' say "'_Bud's_' awful _funny_ name!"

An' he ist laid back on a big bunch o' gwapes An' laugh' an' laugh', he did--like somebody 'Uz tick-el-un his feet!

An' nen I say-- "What's _your_ name," nen I say, "afore you bust Yo'-se'f a-laughin' 'bout _my_ name?" I says.

An' nen he dwy up laughin'--kindo' mad-- An' say "W'y, _my_ name's _Squidjic.u.m_," he says.

An' nen _I_ laugh an' say--"_Gee!_ what a name!"

An' when I make fun of his name, like that, He ist git awful mad an' s.p.u.n.ky, an'

'Fore you know, he ist gwabbed holt of a vine-- A big long vine 'at's danglin' up there, an'

He ist helt on wite tight to that, an' down He swung quick past my face, he did, an' ist Kicked at me hard's he could!

But I'm too quick Fer _Mr. Squidjic.u.m!_ I ist weached out An' ketched him, in my hand--an' helt him, too, An' _squeezed_ him, ist like little wobins when They can't fly yet an' git flopped out their nest.

An' nen I turn him all wound over, an'

Look at him clos't, you know--wite clos't,--'cause ef He _is_ a Fairy, w'y, I want to see The _wings_ he's got--But he's dwessed up so fine 'At I can't _see_ no wings.--An' all the time He's twyin' to kick me yet: An' so I take F'esh holts an' _squeeze_ agin--an' harder, too; An' I says, "_Hold up, Mr. Squidjic.u.m!_-- You're kickin' the w'ong man!" I says; an' nen I ist _squeeze' him_, purt'-nigh my _best_, I did-- An' I heerd somepin' bust!--An' nen he cwied An' says, "You better look out what you're doin'!-- You' bust' my spiderweb-suspen'ners, an'

You' got my woseleaf-coat all cwinkled up So's I can't go to old Miss Hoodjic.u.m's Tea-party, 's'afternoon!"

An' nen I says-- "Who's 'old Miss Hoodjic.u.m'?" I says

An'he Says "Ef you lemme loose I'll tell you."

So I helt the little skeezics 'way fur out In one hand--so's he can't jump down t' th' ground Wivout a-gittin' all stove up: an' nen I says, "You're loose now.--Go ahead an' tell 'Bout the 'tea-party' where you're goin' at So awful fast!" I says.

An' nen he say,-- "No use to _tell_ you 'bout it, 'cause you won't Believe it, 'less you go there your own se'f An' see it wiv your own two eyes!" he says.

An' _he_ says: "Ef you lemme _sh.o.r.e-nuff_ loose, An' p'omise 'at you'll keep wite still, an' won't Tetch nothin' 'at you see--an' never tell n.o.body in the world--an' lemme loose-- W'y, nen I'll _take_ you there!"

But I says, "Yes An' ef I let you loose, you'll _run!_" I says.

An' he says "No, I won't!--I hope may die!"

Nen I says, "Cwoss your heart you won't!"

An'he Ist cwoss his heart; an' nen I weach an' set The little feller up on a long vine-- An' he 'uz so tickled to git loose agin, He gwab' the vine wiv boff his little hands An' ist take an' turn in, he did, an' skin 'Bout forty-'leven cats!

Nen when he git Through whirlin' wound the vine, an' set on top Of it agin, w'y nen his "woseleaf-coat"

He bwag so much about, it's ist all tored Up, an' ist hangin' strips an' rags--so he Look like his Pa's a dwunkard. An' so nen When he see what he's done--a-actin' up So smart,--he's awful mad, I guess; an' ist Pout out his lips an' twis' his little face Ist ugly as he kin, an' set an' tear His whole coat off--an' sleeves an' all.--An' nen He wad it all togevver an' ist _throw_ It at me ist as hard as he kin dwive!

An' when I weach to ketch him, an' 'uz goin'

To give him 'nuvver squeezin', _he ist flewed Clean up on top the arber!_--'Cause, you know, They _wuz_ wings on him--when he tored his _coat_ Clean off--they _wuz_ wings _under there_. But they Wuz purty wobbly-like an' wouldn't work Hardly at all--'Cause purty soon, when I Throwed clods at him, an' sticks, an' got him shooed Down off o' there, he come a-floppin' down An' lit k-bang! on our old chicken-coop, An' ist laid there a-whimper'n' like a child!

An' I tiptoed up wite clos't, an' I says "What's The matter wiv ye, Squidjic.u.m?"

An'he Says: "Dog-gone! when my wings gits stwaight agin, Where you all _cwumpled_ 'em," he says, "I bet I'll ist fly clean away an' won't take you To old Miss Hoodjic.u.m's at all!" he says.

An' nen I ist weach out wite quick, I did, An' gwab the sa.s.sy little snipe agin-- Nen tooked my topstwing an' tie down his wings So's he _can't_ fly, 'less'n I want him to!

An' nen I says: "Now, Mr. Squidjic.u.m, You better ist light out," I says, "to old Miss Hoodjic.u.m's, an' show _me_ how to git There, too," I says; "er ef you don't," I says, "I'll climb up wiv you on our buggy-shed An' push you off!" I says.

An nen he say All wight, he'll show me there; an' tell me nen To set him down wite easy on his feet, An' loosen up the stwing a little where It cut him under th' arms. An' nen he says, "Come on!" he says; an' went a-limpin' 'long The garden-path--an' limpin' 'long an' 'long Tel--purty soon he come on 'long to where's A grea'-big cabbage-leaf. An' he stoop down An' say "Come on inunder here wiv me!"

So _I_ stoop down an' crawl inunder there, Like he say.

An' inunder there's a grea'

Big clod, they is--a awful grea' big clod!

An' nen he says, "_Roll this-here clod away!_"

An' so I roll' the clod away. An' nen It's all wet, where the dew'z inunder where The old clod wuz,--an' nen the Fairy he Git on the wet-place: Nen he say to me "Git on the wet-place, too!" An' nen he say, "Now hold yer breff an' shet yer eyes!" he says, "Tel I say _Squinchy-winchy!_" Nen he say-- Somepin _in Dutch_, I guess.--An' nen I felt Like we 'uz sinkin' down--an' sinkin' down!-- Tel purty soon the little Fairy weach An' pinch my nose an' yell at me an' say, "_Squinchy-winchy! Look wherever you please!_"

Nen when I looked--Oh! they 'uz purtyest place Down there you ever saw in all the World!-- They 'uz ist _flowers_ an' _woses_--yes, an' _twees_ Wiv _blossoms_ on an' _big ripe apples_ boff!

An' b.u.t.terflies, they wuz--an' hummin'-birds-- An' _yellow_birds an' _blue_birds--yes, an' _red!_-- An' ever'wheres an' all awound 'uz vines Wiv ripe p'serve-pears on 'em!--Yes, an' all An' ever'thing 'at's ever gwowin' in A garden--er canned up--all ripe at wunst!-- It wuz ist like a garden--only it 'Uz _little_ t.i.t o' garden--'bout big wound As ist our twun'el-bed is.--An' all wound An' wound the little garden's a gold fence-- An' little gold gate, too--an' ash-hopper 'At's all gold, too--an' ist full o' gold ashes!

An' wite in th' middle o' the garden wuz A little gold house, 'at's ist 'bout as big As ist a bird-cage is: An' _in_ the house They 'uz whole-lots _more_ Fairies there--'cause I Picked up the little house, an 'peeked in at The winders, an' I see 'em all in there Ist _buggin_' wound! An' Mr. Squidjic.u.m He twy to make me quit, but I gwab _him_, An' poke him down the chimbly, too, I did!-- An' y'ort to see _him_ hop out 'mongst 'em there!

Ist like he 'uz the boss an' ist got back!-- _"Hain't ye got on them-air dew-dumplin's yet?"_ He says.

An' they says no.

An' nen he says "_Better git at 'em nen!_" he says, "_wite quick-- 'Cause old Miss Hoodjic.u.m's a-comin'!_"

Nen They all set wound a little gold tub--an'

All 'menced a-peelin' dewdwops, ist like they 'Uz _peaches_.--An', it looked so funny, I Ist laugh' out loud, an' _dwopped_ the little house,-- An' 't busted like a soap-bubble!--An't skeered Me so, I--I--I--I,--it skeered me so, I--ist _waked_ up.--No! I _ain't_ ben _asleep_ An' _dream_ it all, like _you_ think,--but it's sh.o.r.e Fer-certain _fact_ an' cwoss my heart it is!

A DELICIOUS INTERRUPTION

All were quite gracious in their plaudits of Bud's Fairy; but another stir above That murmur was occasioned by a sweet Young lady-caller, from a neighboring street, Who rose reluctantly to say good-night To all the pleasant friends and the delight Experienced,--as she had promised sure To be back home by nine. Then paused, demure, And wondered was it _very_ dark.--Oh, _no!_-- She had _come_ by herself and she could go Without an _escort_. Ah, you sweet girls all!

What young gallant but comes at such a call, Your most abject of slaves! Why, there were three Young men, and several men of family, Contesting for the honor--which at last Was given to Cousin Rufus; and he cast A kingly look behind him, as the pair Vanished with laughter in the darkness there.

As order was restored, with everything Suggestive, in its way, of "romancing,"

Some one observed that _now_ would be the chance For _Noey_ to relate a circ.u.mstance That _he_--the very specious rumor went-- Had been eye-witness of, by accident.

Noey turned pippin-crimson; then turned pale As death; then turned to flee, without avail.-- "_There!_ head him off! _Now!_ hold him in his chair!-- Tell us the Serenade-tale, now, Noey.--_There!_"

NOEY'S NIGHT-PIECE

"They ain't much 'tale' about it!" Noey said.-- "K'tawby grapes wuz gittin' good-n-red I rickollect; and Tubb Kingry and me 'Ud kindo' browse round town, daytime, to see What neighbers 'peared to have the most to spare 'At wuz git-at-able and no dog there When we come round to git 'em, say 'bout ten O'clock at night when mostly old folks then Wuz snorin' at each other like they yit Helt some old grudge 'at never slep' a bit.

Well, at the _Pars'nige_--ef ye'll call to mind,-- They's 'bout the biggest grape-arber you'll find 'Most anywheres.--And mostly there, we knowed They wuz _k'tawbies_ thick as ever growed-- And more'n they'd _p'serve_.--Besides I've heerd Ma say k'tawby-grape-p'serves jes 'peared A waste o' sugar, anyhow!--And so My conscience stayed outside and lem me go With Tubb, one night, the back-way, clean up through That long black arber to the end next to The house, where the k'tawbies, don't you know, Wuz thickest. And t'uz lucky we went _slow_,-- Fer jest as we wuz cropin' tords the gray- End, like, of the old arber--heerd Tubb say In a skeered whisper, 'Hold up! They's some one Jes slippin' in here!--and _looks like a gun_ He's carryin'!' I _golly!_ we both spread Out flat aginst the ground!

"'What's that?' Tubb said.-- And jest then--'_plink! plunk! plink!_' we heerd something Under the back-porch-winder.--Then, i jing!

Of course we rickollected 'bout the young School-mam 'at wuz a-boardin' there, and sung, And played on the melodium in the choir.-- And she 'uz 'bout as purty to admire As any girl in town!--the fac's is, she Jest _wuz_, them times, to a dead certainty, The belle o' this-here bailywick!--But--Well,-- I'd best git back to what I'm tryin' to tell:-- It wuz some feller come to serenade Miss Wetherell: And there he plunked and played His old guitar, and sung, and kep' his eye Set on her winder, blacker'n the sky!-- And black it _stayed_.--But mayby she wuz 'way From home, er wore out--bein' _Sat.u.r.day!_

"It _seemed_ a good-'eal _longer_, but I _know_ He sung and plunked there half a' hour er so Afore, it 'peared like, he could ever git His own free qualified consents to quit And go off 'bout his business. When he went I bet you could a-bought him fer a cent!

"And now, behold ye all!--as Tubb and me Wuz 'bout to raise up,--right in front we see A feller slippin' out the arber, square Smack under that-air little winder where The _other_ feller had been standin'.--And The thing he wuz a-carryin' in his hand Wuzn't no _gun_ at all!--It wuz a _flute_,-- And _whoop-ee!_ how it did git up and toot And chirp and warble, tel a mockin'-bird 'Ud dast to never let hisse'f be heerd Ferever, after sich miracalous, high Jim-cracks and grand skyrootics played there by Yer Cousin Rufus!--Yes-sir; it wuz him!-- And what's more,--all a-suddent that-air dim Dark winder o' Miss Wetherell's wuz lit Up like a' oyshture-sign, and under it We see him sort o' wet his lips and smile Down 'long his row o' dancin' fingers, while He kindo' stiffened up and kinked his breath And everlastin'ly jest blowed the peth Out o' that-air old one-keyed flute o' his.

And, bless their hearts, that's all the 'tale' they is!"

And even as Noey closed, all radiantly The unconscious hero of the history, Returning, met a perfect driving storm Of welcome--a reception strangely warm And _unaccountable_, to _him_, although Most _gratifying_,--and he told them so.

"I only urge," he said, "my right to be Enlightened." And a voice said: "_Certainly:_-- During your absence we agreed that you Should tell us all a story, old or new, Just in the immediate happy frame of mind We knew you would return in."

So, resigned, The ready flutist tossed his hat aside-- Glanced at the children, smiled, and thus complied.

COUSIN RUFUS' STORY