VII.
THE BICYCLOPAEDIA BIRD.
"Boo!" said something.
And Jimmieboy of course was startled. So startled was he that, accordingto his own statement, he jumped ninety-seven feet, though for my ownpart I don't believe he really jumped more than thirty-three. He was toosleepy to count straight anyhow. He had been lolling under his canvastent down near the tennis-court all the afternoon, getting lazier andlazier every minute, and finally he had turned over square on his back,put his head on a small cushion his mamma had made for him, closed hiseyes, and then came the "Boo!"
"I wonder--" he said, as he gazed about him, seeing no sign of anycreature that could by any possibility say "Boo!" however.
"Of course you do. That's why I've come," interrupted a voice from thebushes. "More children of your age suffer from the wonders than frommeasles, mumps, or canthaves."
"What are canthaves?" asked Jimmieboy.
"Canthaves are things you can't have. Don't you ever suffer because youcan't have things?" queried the voice.
"Oh, yes, indeed!" returned Jimmieboy. "Lots and lots of times."
"And didn't you ever have the wonders so badly that you got cross andwouldn't eat anything but sweet things for dinner?" the voice asked.
"I don't know exactly what you mean by the wonders," replied Jimmieboy.
"Why, wonders is a disease that attacks boys who want to know why thingsare and can't find out," said the voice.
"Oh, my, yes I've had that lots of times," laughed Jimmieboy. "Why, onlythis morning I asked my papa why there weren't any dandelionesses, andhe wouldn't tell me because he said he had to catch a train, and I'vebeen wondering why ever since."
"I thought you'd had it; all boys do get it sooner or later, and it's athing you can have any number of times unless you have me around," saidthe voice.
"What are you anyhow?" asked Jimmieboy.
"I'm what they call the Encyclopaedia Bird. I'm a regular owl for wisdom.I know everything--just like the Cyclopaedia; and I have two wheelsinstead of legs, which is why they call me the Bicyclopaedia Bird. Ican't let you see me, because these are not my office hours. I can onlybe seen between ten and two on the thirty-second of March everyseventeenth year. You can get a fair idea of what I look like from myphotograph, though."
As the voice said this, sure enough a photograph did actually pop out ofthe bush, and land at Jimmieboy's feet. He sprang forward eagerly,stooped, and picking it up, gazed earnestly at it. And a singularcreature the Bicyclopaedia Bird must have been if the photograph did himjustice. He had the head of an owl, but his body was oblong in shape,just like a book, and, as the voice had said, in place of legs were twowheels precisely like those of a bicycle. The effect was ratherpleasing, but so funny that Jimmieboy really wanted to laugh. He did notlaugh, however, for fear of hurting the Bird's feelings, which the Birdnoticed and appreciated.
"Thank you," he said, simply.
"What for?" asked Jimmieboy, looking up from the photograph, and peeringinto the bush in the vain hope of catching a glimpse of the Bird itself.
"For not laughing," replied the Bird. "If you had laughed I should havebiked away at once because I am of no value to any one who laughs at mypersonal appearance. It always makes me forget all I know, and that doesme up for a whole year. If I forget all I know, you see, I have to studyhard to learn it all over again, and that's a tremendous job,considering how much knowledge there is to be had in the world. So yousee, by being polite and kind enough not to laugh at me, who can't helpbeing funny to look at, and who am not to blame for looking that way,because I am not a self-made Bird, you are really the gainer, for Ipromise you I'll tell you anything you want to know."
"That's very nice of you," returned Jimmieboy; "and perhaps, to beginwith, you'll tell me something that I ought to want to know, whether Ido or not."
"That is a very wise idea," said the Bicyclopaedia Bird, "and I'll try todo it. Let me see; now, do you know why the Pollywog is always amiable?"
"No," returned Jimmieboy. "I never even knew that he was, and socouldn't really wonder why."
"But you wonder why now, don't you?" asked the voice, anxiously. "For ifyou don't, I can't tell you."
"I'm just crazy to know," Jimmieboy responded.
"Then listen, and I will tell you," said the voice. And then the strangebird recited this poem about
THE POLLYWOG.
"The Pollywog's a perfect type Of amiability. He never uses angry speech Wherever he may be. He never calls his brother names, Or tweaks his sister's nose; He never pulls the sea-dog's tail, Or treads upon his toes.
"He never says an unkind word, And frown he never will. A smile is ever on his lips, E'en when he's feeling ill. And this is why: when Pollywog The first came on the scene, He had a temper like a cat's-- His eye with it was green.
"Now, just about the time when he Began to lose his tail, To change into a croaking frog, He came across a nail-- A nail so rusty that it looked Just like an angle-worm, Except that it was straight and stiff, And so could never squirm.
"And Polly, feeling hungry, to Assuage his appetite, Swam boldly up to that old nail, And gave it such a bite, He nearly broke his upper jaw; His lower jaw he bent. And then he got so very mad, His temper simply went.
"He lost it so completely as He lashed and gnashed around, That though this happened years ago, It has not since been found. And that is why, at all times, in The Pollywog you see, A model of that virtue rare-- True Amiability."
"Now, I dare say," continued the Bird--"I dare say you might have askedyour father--who really knows a great deal, considering he isn't my twinbrother--sixteen million four hundred and twenty-three times why thePollywog is always so good-natured, and he couldn't have answered youmore than once out of the whole lot, and he'd have been wrong eventhen."
"It must be lovely to know so much," said Jimmieboy.
"It is," said the Bird; "that is, it is lovely when you don't have tokeep it all to yourself. It's very nice to tell things. That's reallythe best part of secrets, I think. It is such fun telling them. Now,why does the sun rise in the morning?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"For the same reason that you do," returned the sage Bird. "Because itis time to get up."
"Well, here's a thing I don't know about," said Jimmieboy. "What is 'toalarm?'"
"To frighten--to scare--to discombobulate," replied the Bird. "Why?"
"Well, I don't see why an alarm-clock is called an alarm-clock, becauseit doesn't ever alarm anybody," said Jimmieboy.
"Oh, it doesn't, eh?" cried the Bird. "Well, that's just where you aremistaken. It alarms the people or the animals you dream about when youare asleep, and they make such a noise getting away that they wake youup. Why, an alarm-clock saved my life once. I dreamed that I fell asleepon board a steamboat that went so fast hardly anybody could stay onboard of her--she just regularly slipped out from under their feet, andunless a passenger could run fast enough to keep up with her, or waschained fast enough to keep aboard of her, he'd get dropped astern everysingle time. I dreamed I was aboard of her one day, and that to keep ondeck I chained myself to the smoke-stack, and then dozed off. Just as Iwas dozing, a Misinformation Bird, who was jealous of me, sneaked up andcut the chain. As he expected, the minute I was cut loose the boatrushed from under me, and the first thing I knew I was struggling in thewater. While I was struggling there, I was attacked by a Catfish. Catsare death to birds, you know, and I really had given myself up for lost,when '_ling-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling_' went the alarm-clock in the corner ofmy cage; the fish turned blue with fear, swished his tail about in hisfright, and the splashing of the water waked me up, and there I wasstanding on one wheel on my perch, safe and sound. If that clock hadn'tgone off and alarmed that Catfish, I am afraid I should have beenforever lost to the world."
"I see now; but I never knew before why it was called an alarm-clock,and I've wondered about it a good
deal," said Jimmieboy. "Now, here'sanother thing I've bothered over many a time: What's the use of weeds?"
"Oh, that's easy," said the Bird, with a laugh. "To make lawns lookprettier next year than they do this."
"I don't see how that is," said Jimmieboy.
"Clear as window-glass. This year you have weeds on your lawn, don'tyou?"
"Yes," returned Jimmieboy.
"And you make them get out, don't you?" said the Bird.
"Yes," assented Jimmieboy.
"Well, there you are. By getting out they make your lawns prettier.That's one of the simplest things in the world. But here's a thing Ishould think you'd wonder at. Why do houses have shutters on theirwindows?" asked the Bird.
"I know why," said Jimmieboy. "It's to keep the sun out."
"That's nonsense, because the sun is so much larger than any house thatwas ever built it couldn't get in if it tried," returned the featheredsage.
"Then I don't know why. Why?" asked Jimmieboy.
"So as to wake people up by banging about on windy nights, and they area mighty useful invention too," said the Bird. "I knew of a whole familythat got blown away once just because they hadn't any shutters to bangabout and warn them of their danger. It was out in the West, where theyhave cyclones, which are things that pick up houses and toss them aboutjust as you would pebbles. A Mr. and Mrs. Podlington had built a housein the middle of a big field for themselves and their seventeenchildren. Mr. Podlington was very rich, but awful mean, and when thehouse was finished, all except the shutters, he said he wasn't going tohave any shutters because they cost too much, and so they hadn't ashutter on the house. One night after they had lived where they wereabout six months they all went to bed about nine o'clock, and by tenthey were sound asleep, every one of them. At eleven o'clock a breezesprang up. This grew very shortly into a gale. Then it became ahurricane, and by two o'clock it was a cyclone. One cyclone wouldn'thave hurt much, but at three o'clock two more came along, and the firstthing the Podlington family knew their house was blown off itsfoundations, lifted high up in the air, and at breakfast-time was out ofsight, and, what is worse, it has never come down anywhere, and all thishappened ten years ago."
"But where did it go?" asked Jimmieboy.
"Nobody knows. Maybe it landed in the moon. Maybe it's being blown abouton the wings of those cyclones yet. I don't believe we'll ever know,"answered the Bird. "But you can see just why that all happened. It wasMr. Podlington's meanness about the shutters, and nothing else. If hehad had shutters on that house, at least one of them would have floppedbangety-bang against the house all night, and the chances are that theywould all have been waked up by it before the cyclone came, and inplenty of time to save themselves. In fact, I think very likely theycould have fastened the house more securely to the ground, and saved ittoo, if they had waked up and seen what was going on."
"I'LL NEVER BUILD A HOUSE WITHOUT SHUTTERS."]
"I'll never build a house without shutters," said Jimmieboy, as he triedto fancy the condition of the Podlingtons whisking about in the air forten long years--nearly five years longer than he himself had lived. Ifthey had landed in the moon it wouldn't have been so bad, but this otherpossible and even more likely fate of mounting on the wind ever higherand higher and not landing anywhere was simply dreadful to think about.
"I wouldn't, especially in the cyclone country," returned the voice inthe bush. "But I'll tell you of one thing that would save you if youreally did have to build a house without shutters; build it with wings.You've heard of houses with wings, of course?"
"Yes, indeed," said Jimmieboy. "Why, our house has three wings. One of'em was put on it last summer, so that we could have a biggerkitchen."
"I remember," said the Bird. "I wondered a good deal about that winguntil I found out it was for a kitchen, and not to fly with. The househad enough wings to fly with without the new one. In fact, the new onefor flying purposes would be as useless as a third wheel to a bicycle."
"What do you mean by to fly with?" asked Jimmieboy, puzzled at thisabsurd remark of the Bird.
"Exactly what I say. Wings are meant to fly with, aren't they? I hopeyou knew that!" said the Bird. "So if the Podlingtons' house had hadwings it might have got back all right. It could have worked its wayslowly out of the cyclone, and then sort of rested on its wings a littleuntil it was prepared to swoop down on to its old foundations, alightingjust where it was before. A trip through the air under suchcircumstances would have been rather pleasant, I think--much pleasanterthan going off into the air forever, without any means of getting back."
"But," asked Jimmieboy, "even if Mr. Podlington's house had had wings,how could he have made them work?"
"Why, how stupid of you!" cried the Bird. "Don't you know that he couldhave taken hold of the----"
"Ting-a-ling-a-ling a-ling-a-ling!" rang the alarm-clock up in thecook's room, which had been set for six o'clock in the afternoon insteadof for six in the morning by some odd mistake of Mary Ann's.
"The alarm! The alarm!" shrieked the Bird, in terror.
And then the invisible creature, if Jimmieboy could judge by the noisein the bush, seemed to make off as fast as he could go, his cries offear growing fainter and fainter as the wise Bird got farther andfarther away, until finally they died away in the distance altogether.
Jimmieboy sprang to his feet, looked down the road along which hisstrange friend had fled, and then walked into the house, wishing thatthe alarm-clock had held off just a little longer, so that he might havelearned how the wings of a house should be managed to make the house flyoff into the air. He really felt as if he would like to try theexperiment with his own house.
Half-Hours with Jimmieboy Page 7
