Bikey the Skicycle and Other Tales of Jimmieboy

by John Kendrick Bangs

  Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced fromscanned images of public domain material from the InternetArchive.

  Book Cover]

  "EXCUSE ME," SAID THE STRANGER, "BUT WE HAVE TO BE VERYPARTICULAR HERE."]

  BIKEYTHE SKICYCLE

  & OTHER TALESof JIMMIEBOY

  * * * * *

  _By_JOHN KENDRICK BANGS

  _Author of_"Uncle Sam Trustee," "Mr. Munchausen,""House Boat on the Styx," etc.

  ILLUSTRATED BY PETER NEWELL

  * * * * *

  _New York_RIGGS PUBLISHING COMPANYMCMII

  COPYRIGHT, 1902, BYRIGGS PUBLISHING CO.

  TABLE _of_ CONTENTS

  PAGE I. Bikey the Skicycle 11 II. The Imp of the Telephone 81 III. Caught in Toy Town 161 IV. Totherwayville, the Animal Town 179 V. An Electrical Error 197 VI. In the Brownie's House 213 VII. Jimmieboy--and Something 231 VIII. Jimmieboy's Fire Works 247 IX. High-Jinks in the Barn 265 X. Jimmieboy's Valentine 275 XI. The Magic Sled 291 XII. The Stupid Little Apple Tree 309

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  "Excuse me," said the stranger, "but we have to be very particular here" See Frontispiece Before him stood the Imp Facing page 74 "At last!" ejaculated the Imp 124 The Electric Custard 150 "No wonder it wouldn't say anything," he cried 186 "I'm very glad to see you Sharkey," said the Lobster 234 "Your ears would be frozen solid" 270 "Hullo! said his papa, where have you been?" 298

  BIKEY THE SKICYCLE

  I

  _HOW IT ALL CAME ABOUT_

  Jimmieboy's father had bought him a bicycle, and inasmuch as it wasprovided with a bag of tools and a nickel plated bell the small youthwas very much pleased with the gift.

  "It's got rheumatic tires, too," he said, when describing it to one ofhis little friends.

  "What's that?" asked the boy.

  "Big pieces of hose pipe," said Jimmieboy. "They run all around theoutside of the wheel and when you fill 'em up with wind and screw 'em uptight so's the wind can't get out, papa says, you can go over anythingeasy as a bird."

  "I s'pose," said the little friend, "it's sort of like sailing, maybe.The wind keeps blowing inside o' those pipes and that makes the wheelsgo round."

  "I guess that's it," returned Jimmieboy.

  "But I don't see why they call 'em rheumatic," said the other boy.

  "Nor I don't, either," said Jimmieboy, "unless it's because they move alittle stiff at first."

  It was not long, however, before Jimmieboy discovered that his fatherhad made a mistake when he said that the pneumatic tire would enable abicycle to ride over anything, for about a week later Jimmieboy tried toride over the shaft of a lawn mower with his wheel, with disastrousresults. The boy took a header, and while he himself was not hurt beyonda scratch or two and a slight shaking up, which took away his appetite,the wonderful rubber tire was badly battered. What was worse, theexperience made Jimmieboy a little afraid of his new possession, and forsome time it lay neglected.

  A few nights ago, however, Jimmieboy's interest in his wheel was arousedonce more, and to-day it is greater than ever, and it all came about inthis way. His father and mother had gone out to make some calls and theyoungster was spending a few minutes of solitude over a very fine fairybook that had recently been sent to him. While he was gazing at amagnificent picture of Jack slaying two giants with his left hand andthrottling a dragon with his right, there came a sudden tinkling of abell.

  "Somebody's at the telephone," thought Jimmieboy, and started to go toit, when the ringing sound came again, but from a part of the houseentirely away from the neighborhood of the telephone.

  "Humph," said Jimmieboy. "That's queer. It isn't the telephone and itcan't be the front door bell--I guess it's the----"

  "It's me--Bikey," came a merry voice from behind the door.

  "Who?" cried Jimmieboy.

  "Bikey," replied the voice. "Don't you remember Bikey, who threw youover the lawn mower?"

  Jimmieboy turned about, and sure enough there stood his neglected wheel.

  "I hope you weren't hurt by your tumble," said the little bicyclestanding up on its hind wheel and putting its treadles softly onJimmieboy's shoulders, as if it were caressing him.

  "No," said Jimmieboy. "The only thing was that it took away my appetite,and it was on apple pie day. It isn't pleasant to feel as if youcouldn't eat a thing with a fine apple pie staring you in the face. Thatwas all I felt badly about."

  "I'm sorry about the pie," returned the little bicycle, "but glad youdidn't flatten your nose or put your teeth out of joint, as you mighteasily have done. I knew a boy once who took a header just as you did,and after he got up he found that he'd broken the brim of his hat andturned a beautiful Roman nose into a stub nose."

  "You mean snub nose, don't you?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "No, I mean stub. Stub means more than snub. Snub means just a plainturn up nose, but stub means that it's not only turned up, but has verylittle of itself left. It's just a stub--that's all," explained thebicycle. "Another boy I knew fell so hard that he pushed his whole faceright through to the back of his head, and you don't know how queer itlooks to see him walking backward on his way to school."

  "I guess I was in great luck," said Jimmieboy. "I might have had a muchharder time than I did."

  "I should say so," said the bicycle. "A scratch and loss of appetite,when you might just as easily have had your whole personal appearancechanged, is getting off very cheap. But, I say, why didn't you turnaside instead of trying to ride over that lawn mower? Didn't you knowyou'd get yourself into trouble?"

  "Of course I didn't," said Jimmieboy. "You don't suppose I wanted tocommit soozlecide, do you? I heard papa talking to mamma about therheumatic tires on his bicycle, and he said they were great inventionsbecause they made the wheel boy--boy--well, boy something, I don'tremember what."

  "Boyant?" asked the little bicycle, scratching its cyclometer with itspedal.

  "Yes--that was it," said Jimmieboy. "He said the rheumatic tires madethe thing boyant, and I asked him what that meant. He said boyant was aword meaning light and airy--like a boy, you know, and that boyancy in abicycle meant that it could jump over almost anything."

  "That is so," said Bikey. "That's what they have those tires for, butthey can't jump over a lawn mower--unless"----Here Bikey paused andglanced anxiously around. It was evident that he had some great secretin his mind.

  "Unless what?" asked Jimmieboy, his curiosity at once aroused.

  "Unless a patent idea of mine, which you and I could try if you wantedto, is good."

  Bikey's voice sank into a whisper.

  "There's millions in my idea if it'll work," he continued. "Do you seethis?" he asked, holding up his front wheel. "This tire I have on isfilled with air, and it makes me seem light as air--but it's onlyseeming. I'm heavy, as you found out when you tried to get me to jumpover the lawn mower, but if I could only do a thing
I want to you couldgo sailing over a church steeple as easily as you can ride me over alawn."

  "You mean to say you'd fly?" asked Jimmieboy, delighted at the idea.

  "No--not exactly," returned Bikey. "I never could fly and never wantedto. Birds do that, and you can buy a bird for two dollars; but a bicyclecosts you anywhere from fifty to a hundred, which shows how much morevaluable bicycles are than birds. No, I don't want to fly, but I wouldlike to float."

  "On water?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "No, no, no; in the air," said the little bicycle impatiently--"like aballoon. Wouldn't that be fine? Anybody can float on the water, even anold cork; but when it comes to floating in the air, that's not only funbut it means being talented. A bicycle that could float in the air wouldbe the finest thing in the world."

  "That's very likely true," said Jimmieboy, "but how are you going to doit? You can't soar."

  "Not with my tires filled with air," replied Bikey, "but if you'll takethe hose from the gas stove and fasten one end to the supply valve of mytires, the other to the gas fixture, fill the tires up with gas and getaboard I'll bet you we can have a ride that'll turn out to be a regularsky-scraper."

  It sounded like an attractive proposition, but Jimmieboy wanted to knowsomething more about it before consenting to trifle with the gas pipe.

  "What good'll the gas do?" he asked.

  "Why, don't you know that gas makes balloons go up?" said Bikey. "Theyjust cram the balloon as full of gas as they can get it and up shesails. That's my idea. Fill my rubber tires with gas and up we'll go.What do you say?"

  "I'll do it," cried Jimmieboy with enthusiasm. "I'd love more thananything else to go biking through the clouds, for to tell the truthclouds look a great deal softer than grocery carts and lawn mowers, andI wouldn't mind running into one of them so much. Skybicycling"----

  "Pooh! What a term," retorted Bikey. "Skybicycling! Why don't you useyour mind a little and call it skycycling?"

  Jimmieboy laughed.

  "Perhaps skycling would be better than that," he suggested.

  "Or skiking," smiled the little bicycle. "If it works you know I'll besimply grand. I'll be a sort of Christopher Columbus among bicycles,and perhaps I'll be called a skicycle instead of bicycle. Oh, it wouldbe too beautiful!" he added, dancing joyously on his hind wheel.

  "It will indeed," said Jimmieboy, "but let's hurry. Seems to me as if Icould hardly wait."

  "Me too," chuckled Bikey. "You go up and get the rubber tube, fasten itto the gas pipe, and inside of ten minutes we'll be off--if it works."

  So Jimmieboy rushed off to the attic, seized a piece of rubber tubingthat had been used to carry the supply of gas to his little nurserystove in the winter, and running back to where Bikey was waitingfastened it to the fixture in the hall.

  "Now," said Bikey, unscrewing the cap of his pneumatic tire, "hold theother end there and we'll see how it goes."

  Jimmieboy hastened to obey, and for five minutes watched his strangelittle friend anxiously.

  "Feel any lighter?" he said.

  "Yes," whispered Bikey, almost shivering with delight. "My frontwheel is off the floor already. I think twenty feet more willbe enough there, and when you've filled up the hindtire--ta--ta--ti--tum--ti--too--ha--ha! Then we'll go skiking."

  The plan was followed out, and when both tires had taken in as much gasas they could hold Bikey called hoarsely to Jimmieboy:--

  "Quick! Quick! Jump aboard or I'll be off without you. Is the dooropen?"

  "No," said Jimmieboy, clambering into the saddle, after turning off thegas and screwing the caps firmly on both tires, "b--but thepar--par--parlor window is."

  "Good," cried Bikey. "We'll sail through that! Give the right pedal agood turn; now--one--two--three--we're off!"

  And they were off. Out of the hall they flew, through the parlor withouttouching the floor, and then sailed through the window out into themoonlight night.

  "Isn't it great," cried Bikey, trembling with delight.

  "Greatest that ever was," said Jimmieboy. "But, hi! Take care, turn tothe left, quick."

  A great spike of some sort had loomed up before them.

  "Excuse me," said Bikey, giving a quick turn. "I was so happy I wasn'tlooking where we were going. If you hadn't spoken we'd have got stuck onthat church steeple sure enough."

  II

  _WHEELING ON THE BIG RING OF SATURN_

  "Hadn't we better go a little higher?" asked Jimmieboy. "There's a lotof these tall steeples about here, and it wouldn't be any fun if wepricked a hole in one of these tires on a weather vane."

  "We are going higher all the time," said Bikey. "There isn't a steeplein the world can touch us now. What we want to keep away from now areeagles and snow clad Alps."

  "Ho! snow clad Alps," laughed Jimmieboy. "There aren't any Alps inAmerica, they're all in Europe."

  "Well, where are you? You don't suppose we've been standing still allthis time, do you? If you'd studied your geography lessons as well asyou ought to you'd be able to tell one country from another. You arewheeling directly over France now. In ten minutes we'll be over Germany,and in fifteen, if you turned to the south, you'd simply graze the topof Mont Blanc."

  "Let's," said Jimmieboy. "I want to see a glazier."

  "A what?" asked Bikey.

  "A glazier," answered Jimmieboy. "It's a big slide."

  "Oh, you mean a glacier," said Bikey, shaking all over with laughter. "Ithought you meant a man to put in a pane of glass, and it struck me thatMont Blanc was a curious place to go looking for one. Shall we turnsouth?"

  "If you don't mind," said Jimmieboy. "Seems to me we might coast downMont Blanc, and have a pretty good time of it."

  "Oh, if that's what you're after, I won't do it," said Bikey. "Coastingisn't a good thing for beginners like you, particularly on the Alps.Take a hill of your own size. Furthermore, we haven't come out toexplore the earth. I was going to take you off to the finest bicycletrack you ever saw. I never saw it either, but I've seen pictures of it.It's a great level gold road running about another world called Saturn.We call it Saturn's ring down home, but I've ideas as to what it is."

  "Seems to me I've heard papa speak of Saturn. It's got eight moons, Ithink he said. One for every day of the week, and two for Sunday," saidJimmieboy.

  "That's the place," said Bikey. "You don't need a lamp on your wheelwhen you go out at night there. They've got moonlight to burn. Ifyou'll pedal ahead now as hard as you can we can get there in time forone turn and then come back; and I tell you, my boy, that coming backwill be glorious. It will be down grade all the way."

  "How far off is Saturn?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "I don't know," returned Bikey, "but it's a long walk from your house.The ring is 18,350 miles from Saturn itself. That's why I think it's agood place for bicycling. Nobody'd take an ice cart or a furniture truckthat far just to get in the way of a wheelman, and then as it doesn't goanywhere but just round and round and round, they're not likely to havetrolley cars on it. It doesn't pay to run a trolley car nowheres."

  It all seemed beautifully reasonable, and Jimmieboy's curiosity grewgreater and greater as he pedalled along. Up and on they went, passingthrough huge fleecy masses of clouds, now and again turning to one sideto avoid running into strange little bits of stars, so small that theyseemed to be nothing but islands in the ocean of the sky, and far toosmall to be seen on the earth.

  "We can stop and rest on one of those if you want to, Jimmieboy," saidBikey; "are you tired?"

  "Not at all," Jimmieboy answered. "Seems to me I could go on this wayforever. It's easy as lying down and going to sleep."

  Bikey chuckled.

  "What are you laughing at?" said Jimmieboy.

  "Nothing," said Bikey. "When you said it was easy as sleeping I thoughtof something--that was all."

  "Dear me," said Jimmieboy, ruefully. "I am awake, ain't I? This isn'tlike all the other experiences, is it?"

  "Not at all," laughed Bikey. "Your other adventures have been qu
itedifferent. But, I say, we're getting there. I can see five moons aheadalready."

  "I can see six," cried Jimmieboy, quite elated. "Yes, six--and--onemore."

  "You've got nearly the whole set, as the boy said when he came to theother boy's Nicaragua page in the stamp album. There are only eightaltogether--only I think your seventh is Saturn itself."

  "It must be," said Jimmieboy. "It's got a hello around it."

  "What's that?" asked Bikey.

  "I forgot," said Jimmieboy. "You never went to Sunday school, and so ofcourse you don't know what a hello is. It's a thing like a gold hooplethat angels wear on their heads."

  "I'll have to get one," said Bikey. "I heard somebody say I was an angelof a bicycle. I don't know what she meant, though. What is an angel?"

  "It's a--a--good thing with wings," said Jimmieboy.

  "Humph!" said Bikey, "I'm afraid I'm not one of those. Don't they everhave wheels? I'm a good thing, but I haven't any wings."

  "I never heard of an angel with wheels," said Jimmieboy. "But I supposethey come. Angels have everything that's worth having."

  Bikey was silent. The idea of anything having everything that was worthhaving was too much for him to imagine, for bicycles have very littleimagination.

  "I wish I could be one," he said wistfully, after a moment's silence."It must be awfully nice to have everything you want."

  Jimmieboy thought so, too, but he was too much interested in getting toSaturn to say anything, so he, too, kept silent and pedalled away ashard as he could. Together and happily they went on until Jimmieboysaid:--