Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗
- Author: Marshall Saunders
Book online «Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗». Author Marshall Saunders
be to know what is going on beside you. Suppose a girl saw a mouse with
her eyes half covered, wouldn't she run?"
Everybody laughed, and the president asked some one to tell him who
invented blinders.
"An English nobleman," shouted a boy, "who had a wall-eyed horse! He
wanted to cover up the defect, and I think it is a great shame that all
the American horses have to suffer because that English one had an ugly
eye."
"So do I," said the president. "Three groans for blinders, boys."
All the children in the room made three dreadful noises away down in
their throats. Then they had another good laugh, and the president
became sober again. "Seven more minutes," he said; "this meeting has got
to be let out at five sharp."
A tall girl at the back of the room rose, and said. "My little cousin
has two stories that she would like to tell the band."
"Very well," said the president; "bring her right along."
The big girl came forward, leading a tiny child that she placed in front
of the boys and girls. The child stared up into her cousin's face,
turning and twisting her white pinafore through her fingers. Every time
the big girl took her pinafore away from her, she picked it up again.
"Begin, Nannie," said the big girl, kindly.
"Well, Cousin Eleanor," said the child, "you know Topsy, Graham's pony.
Well, Topsy _would_ run away, and a big, big man came out to papa and
said he would train Topsy. So he drove her every day, and beat her, and
beat her, till he was tired, but still Topsy would run away. Then papa
said he would not have the poor pony whipped so much, and he took her
out a piece of bread every day, and he petted her, and now Topsy is very
gentle, and never runs away."
"Tell about Tiger," said the girl.
"Well, Cousin Eleanor," said the child, "you know Tiger, our big dog. He
used to be a bad dog, and when Dr. Fairchild drove up to the house he
jumped up and bit at him. Dr. Fairchild used to speak kindly to him, and
throw out bits of meat, and now when he comes, Tiger follows behind and
wags his tail. Now, give me a kiss."
The girl had to give her a kiss, right up there before every one, and
what a stamping the boys made. The larger girl blushed and hurried back
to her seat, with the child clinging to her hand.
There was one more story, about a brave Newfoundland dog, that saved
eight lives by swimming out to a wrecked sailing vessel, and getting a
rope by which the men came ashore, and then a lad got up whom they all
greeted with cheers, and cries of, "The Poet! the Poet!" I didn't know
what they meant, till Mrs. Wood whispered to Miss Laura that he was a
boy who made rhymes, and the children had rather hear him speak than any
one else in the room.
He had a snub nose and freckles, and I think he was the plainest boy
there, but that didn't matter, if the other children loved him. He
sauntered up to the front, with his hands behind his back, and a very
grand manner.
"The beautiful poetry recited here to-day," he drawled, "put some verses
in my mind that I never had till I came here to-day." Everyone present
cheered wildly, and he began in a singsong voice:
"I am a Band of Mercy boy,
I would not hurt a fly,
I always speak to dogs and cats,
When'er I pass them by.
"I always let the birdies sing,
I never throw a stone,
I always give a hungry dog
A nice, fat, meaty bone.
"I wouldn't drive a bob-tailed horse,
Nor hurry up a cow,
I----"
Then he forgot the rest. The boys and girls were so sorry. They called
out, "Pig," "Goat," "Calf," "Sheep," "Hens," "Ducks," and all the other
animals' names they could think of, but none of them was right, and as
the boy had just made up the poetry, no one knew what the next could be.
He stood for a long time staring at the ceiling, then he said, "I guess
I'll have to give it up."
The children looked dreadfully disappointed. "Perhaps you will remember
it by our next meeting," said the president, anxiously.
"Possibly", said the boy, "but probably not. I think it is gone
forever." And he went to his seat.
The next thing was to call for new members. Miss Laura got up and said
she would like to join their Band of Mercy. I followed her up to the
platform, while they pinned a little badge on her, and every one laughed
at me. Then they sang, "God Bless our Native Land," and the president
told us that we might all go home.
It seemed to me a lovely thing for those children to meet together to
talk about kindness to animals. They all had bright and good faces, and
many of them stopped to pat me as I came out. One little girl gave me a
biscuit from her school bag.
Mrs. Wood waited at the door till Mr. Maxwell came limping out on his
crutches. She introduced him to Miss Laura, and asked him if he wouldn't
go and take tea with them. He said he would be very happy to do so, and
then Mrs. Wood laughed; and asked him if he hadn't better empty his
pockets first. She didn't want a little toad jumping over her tea table,
as one did the last time he was there.
* * * * *
CHAPTER XXI (MR. MAXWELL AND MR. HARRY)
Mr. Maxwell wore a coat with loose pockets, and while she was speaking,
he rested on his crutches, and began to slap them with his hands. "No;
there's nothing here to-day," he said; "I think I emptied my pockets
before I went to the meeting."
Just as he said that there was a loud squeal: "Oh, my guinea pig," he
exclaimed; "I forgot him," and he pulled out a little spotted creature a
few inches long. "Poor Derry, did I hurt you?" and he soothed it very
tenderly.
I stood and looked at Mr. Maxwell, for I had never seen any one like
him. He had thick curly hair and a white face, and he looked just like a
girl. While I was staring at him, something peeped up out of one of his
pockets and ran out its tongue at me so fast that I could scarcely see
it, and then drew back again. I was thunderstruck. I had never seen such
a creature before. It was long and thin like a boy's cane, and of a
bright green color like grass, and it had queer shiny eyes. But its
tongue was the strangest part of it. It came and went like lightning. I
was uneasy about it, and began to bark.
"What's the matter, Joe?" said Mrs. Wood; "the pig won't hurt you."
But it wasn't the pig I was afraid of, and I kept on barking. And all
the time that strange live thing kept sticking up its head and putting
out its tongue at me, and neither of them noticed it.
"Its getting on toward six," said Mrs. Wood; "we must be going home.
Come, Mr. Maxwell."
The young man put the guinea pig in his pocket, picked up his crutches,
and we started down the sunny village street. He left his guinea pig at
his boarding house as he went by, but he said nothing about the other
creature, so I knew he did not know it was there.
I was very much taken with Mr. Maxwell. He seemed so bright and happy,
in spite of his lameness, which kept him from running about like other
young men. He looked a little older than Miss Laura, and one day, a week
or two later, when they were sitting on the veranda, I heard him tell
her that he was just nineteen. He told her, too, that his lameness made
him love animals. They never laughed at him, or slighted him, or got
impatient, because he could not walk quickly. They were always good to
him, and he said he loved all animals while he liked very few people.
On this day as he was limping along, he said to Mrs. Wood: "I am getting
more absent-minded every day. Have you heard of my latest escapade?"
"No," she said.
"I am glad," he replied. "I was afraid that it would be all over the
village by this time. I went to church last Sunday with my poor guinea
pig in my pocket. He hasn't been well, and I was attending to him before
church, and put him in there to get warm, and forgot about him.
Unfortunately I was late, and the back seats were all full, so I had to
sit farther up than I usually do. During the first hymn I happened to
strike Piggy against the side of the seat. Such an ear-splitting squeal
as he set up. It sounded as if I was murdering him. The people stared
and stared, and I had to leave the church, overwhelmed with confusion."
Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura laughed, and then they got talking about other
matters that were not interesting to me, so I did not listen. But I kept
close to Miss Laura, for I was afraid that green thing might hurt her. I
wondered very much what its name was. I don't think I should have feared
it so much if I had known what it was.
"There's something the matter with Joe," said Miss Laura, when we got
into the lane. "What is it, dear old fellow?" She put down her little
hand, and I licked it, and wished so much that I could speak.
Sometimes I wish very much that I had the gift of speech, and then at
other times I see how little it would profit me, and how many foolish
things I should often say. And I don't believe human beings would love
animals as well, if they could speak.
When we reached the house, we got a joyful surprise. There was a trunk
standing on the veranda, and as soon as Mrs. Wood saw it, she gave a
little shriek: "My dear boy!"
Mr. Harry was there, sure enough, and stepped out through the open door.
He took his mother in his arms and kissed her, then he shook hands with
Miss Laura and Mr. Maxwell, who seemed to be an old friend of his. They
all sat down on the veranda and talked, and I lay at Miss Laura's feet
and looked at Mr. Harry. He was such a handsome young man, and had such
a noble face. He was older and graver looking than when I saw him last,
and he had a light, brown moustache that he did not have when he was in
Fairport.
He seemed very fond of his mother and of Miss Laura, and however grave
his face might be when he was looking at Mr. Maxwell, it always lighted
up when he turned to them. "What dog is that?" he said at last, with a
puzzled face, and pointing to me.
"Why, Harry," exclaimed Miss Laura, "don't you know Beautiful Joe, that
you rescued from that wretched milkman?"
"Is it possible," he said, "that this well-conditioned creature is the
bundle of dirty skin and bones that we nursed in Fairport? Come here,
sir. Do you remember me?"
Indeed I did remember him, and I licked his hands and looked up
gratefully into his face. "You're almost handsome now," he said,
caressing me with a firm, kind hand, "and of a solid build, too. You
look like a fighter--but I suppose you wouldn't let him fight, even if
he wanted to, Laura," and he smiled and glanced at her.
"No," she said; "I don't think I should; but he can fight when the
occasion requires
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