Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗

went by, he said, gently, 'Pearls cannot equal the whiteness

of his teeth.'"

 

"What was the name of that old fellow," said Mr. Maxwell, abruptly, "who

had a beautiful swan that came every day for fifteen years, to bury its

head in his bosom and feed from his hand, and would go near no other

human being?"

 

"Saint Hugh, of Lincoln. We heard about him at the Band of Mercy the

other day," said Miss Laura.

 

"I should think that he would have wanted to have that swan in heaven

with him," said Mr. Maxwell. "What a beautiful creature it must have

been. Speaking about animals going to heaven, I dare say some of them

would object to going, on account of the company that they would meet

there. Think of the dog kicked to death by his master, the horse driven

into his grave, the thousands of cattle starved to death on the

plains--will they want to meet their owners in heaven?"

 

"According to my reckoning, their owners won't be there," said Mr.

Harry. "I firmly believe that the Lord will punish every man or woman

who ill-treats a dumb creature just as surely as he will punish those

who ill-treat their fellow-creatures. If a man's life has been a long

series of cruelty to dumb animals, do you suppose that he would enjoy

himself in heaven, which will be full of kindness to every one? Not he;

he'd rather be in the other place, and there he'll go, I fully believe."

 

"When you've quite disposed of all your fellow-creatures and the dumb

creation, Harry, perhaps you will condescend to go out into the orchard

and see how your father is getting on with picking the apples," said

Mrs. Wood, joining Miss Laura and the two young men, her eyes twinkling

and sparkling with amusement.

 

"The apples will keep, mother," said Mr. Harry, putting his arm around

her. "I just came in for a moment to get Laura. Come, Maxwell, we'll all

go."

 

"And not another word about animals," Mrs. Wood called after them.

"Laura will go crazy some day, through thinking of their sufferings, if

some one doesn't do something to stop her."

 

Miss Laura turned around suddenly. "Dear Aunt Hattie," she said, "you

must not say that. I am a coward, I know, about hearing of animals'

pains, but I must get over it, I want to know how they suffer. I _ought_

to know, for when I get to be a woman, I am going to do all I can to

help them."

 

"And I'll join you," said Mr. Maxwell, stretching out his hand to Miss

Laura. She did not smile, but looking very earnestly at him, she held it

clasped in her own. "You will help me to care for them, will you?" she

said.

 

"Yes, I promise," he said, gravely. "I'll give myself to the service of

dumb animals, if you will."

 

"And I, too," said Mr. Harry, in his deep voice, laying his hand across

theirs. Mrs. Wood stood looking at their three fresh, eager, young

faces, with tears in her eyes. Just as they all stood silently for an

instant, the old village clergyman came into the room from the hall. He

must have heard what they said, for before they could move he had laid

his hands on their three brown heads. "Bless you, my children," he said,

"God will lift up the light of his countenance upon you, for you have

given yourselves to a noble work. In serving dumb creatures, you are

ennobling the human race."

 

Then he sat down in a chair and looked at them. He was a venerable old

man, and had long, white hair, and the Woods thought a great deal of

him. He had come to get Mrs. Wood to make some nourishing dishes for a

sick woman in the village, and while he was talking to her, Miss Laura

and the two young men went out of the house. They hurried across the

veranda and over the lawn, talking and laughing, and enjoying themselves

as only happy young people can, and with not a trace of their

seriousness of a few moments before on their faces.

 

They were going so fast that they ran right into a flock of geese that

were coming up the lane. They were driven by a little boy called Tommy,

the son of one of Mr. Wood's farm laborers, and they were chattering and

gabbling, and seemed very angry. "What's all this about?" said Mr.

Harry, stopping and looking at the boy. "What's the matter with your

feathered charges, Tommy, my lad?"

 

"If it's the geese you mean," said the boy, half crying and looking very

much put out, "it's all them nasty potatoes. They won't keep away from

them."

 

"So the potatoes chase the geese, do they," said Mr. Maxwell, teasingly.

 

"No, no," said the child, pettishly; "Mr. Wood he sets me to watch the

geese, and they runs in among the buckwheat and the potatoes, and I

tries to drive them out, and they doesn't want to come, and,"

shamefacedly, "I has to switch their feet, and I hates to do it, 'cause

I'm a Band of Mercy boy."

 

"Tommy, my son," said Mr. Maxwell, solemnly, "you will go right to

heaven when you die, and your geese will go with you."

 

"Hush, hush," said Miss Laura; "don't tease him," and putting her arm on

the child's shoulder, she said, "You are a good boy, Tommy, not to want

to hurt the geese. Let me see your switch, dear."

 

He showed her a little stick he had in his hand, and she said, "I don't

think you could hurt them much with that, and if they will be naughty

and steal the potatoes, you have to drive them out. Take some of my

pears and eat them, and you will forget your trouble." The child took

the fruit, and Miss Laura and the two young men went on their way,

smiling, and looking over their shoulders at Tommy, who stood in the

lane, devouring his pears and keeping one eye on the geese that had

gathered a little in front of him, and were gabbling noisily and having

a kind of indignation meeting, because they had been driven out of the

potato field.

 

Tommy's father and mother lived in a little house down near the road.

Mr. Wood never had his hired men live in his own house. He had two small

houses for them to live in, and they were required to keep them as neat

as Mr. Wood's own house was kept. He said that he didn't see why he

should keep a boarding house, if he was a farmer, nor why his wife

should wear herself out waiting on strong, hearty men, that had just as

soon take care of themselves. He wished to have his own family about

him, and it was better for his men to have some kind of family life for

themselves. If one of his men was unmarried, he boarded with the married

one, but slept in his own house.

 

On this October day we found Mr. Wood hard at work under the fruit

trees. He had a good many different kind of apples. Enormous red ones,

and long, yellow ones that they called pippins, and little brown ones,

and smooth-coated sweet ones, and bright red ones, and others, more than

I could mention. Miss Laura often pared one and cut off little bits for

me, for I always wanted to eat whatever I saw her eating.

 

Just a few days after this, Miss Laura and I returned to Fairport, and

some of Mr. Wood's apples traveled along with us, for he sent a good

many to the Boston market. Mr. and Mrs. Wood came to the station to see

us off. Mr. Harry could not come, for he had left Riverdale the day

before to go back to his college. Mrs. Wood said that she would be very

lonely without her two young people, and she kissed Miss Laura over and

over again, and made her promise to come back again the next summer.

 

I was put in a box in the express car, and Mr. Wood told the agent that

if he knew what was good for him he would speak to me occasionally, for

I was a very knowing dog, and if he didn't treat me well, I'd be apt to

write him up in the newspapers. The agent laughed, and quite often on

the way to Fairport, he came to my box and spoke kindly to me. So I did

not get so lonely and frightened as I did on my way to Riverdale.

 

How glad the Morrises were to see us coming back. The boys had all

gotten home before us, and such a fuss as they did make over their

sister. They loved her dearly, and never wanted her to be long away from

them. I was rubbed and stroked, and had to run about offering my paw to

every one. Jim and little Billy licked my face, and Bella croaked out,

"Glad to see you, Joe. Had a good time? How's your health?"

 

We soon settled down for the winter. Miss Laura began going to school,

and came home every day with a pile of books under her arm. The summer

in the country had done her so much good that her mother often looked at

her fondly, and said the white-faced child she sent away had come home a

nut-brown maid.

 

 

 

 

 

       *       *       *       *       *

 

CHAPTER XXXIII (PERFORMING ANIMALS)

 

A week or two after we got home, I heard the Morris boys talking about

an Italian who was coming to Fairport with a troupe of trained animals,

and I could see for myself, whenever I went to town, great flaming

pictures on the fences, of monkeys sitting at tables, dogs, and ponies,

and goats climbing ladders, and rolling balls, and doing various tricks.

I wondered very much whether they would be able to do all those

extraordinary things, but it turned out that they did.

 

The Italian's name was Bellini, and one afternoon the whole Morris

family went to see him and his animals, and when they came home, I heard

them talking about it. "I wish you could have been there, Joe," said

Jack, pulling up my paws to rest on his knees. "Now listen, old fellow,

and I'll tell you all about it. First of all, there was a perfect jam in

the town hall. I sat up in front, with a lot of fellows, and had a

splendid view. The old Italian came out dressed in his best suit of

clothes--black broadcloth, flower in his buttonhole, and so on. He made

a fine bow, and he said he was 'pleased too see ze fine audience, and he

was going to show zem ze fine animals, ze finest animals in ze world.'

Then he shook a little whip that he carried in his hand, and he said

'zat zat whip didn't mean zat he was cruel. He cracked it to show his

animals when to begin, end, or change their tricks.' Some boy yelled,

'Rats! you do whip them sometimes,' and the old man made another bow,

and said, 'Sairteenly, he whipped zem just as ze mammas whip ze naughty

boys, to make zem keep still when zey was noisy or stubborn.'

 

"Then everybody laughed at the boy, and the Italian said the performance

would begin by a grand procession of all the animals, if some lady would

kindly step up to the piano and play a march. Nina Smith--you know Nina,

Joe, the girl that has black eyes and wears blue ribbons, and lives

around the corner--stepped up to the piano, and banged out a fine loud

march. The doors at the side of the platform opened, and out came the

animals, two by two, just like Noah's ark. There was a pony with a

monkey walking beside it and holding on to its mane, another monkey on a

pony's back, two monkeys hand in hand, a dog with a parrot on his back,

a