Bikey the Skicycle and Other Tales of Jimmieboy

by John Kendrick Bangs

  "No," said his mamma. "He seems to be just the same happy little fellowhe always was."

  And between us, I think they were both right, for we know that he didn'tmiss the fireworks, and as for being happy, he was just as much so asare most boys who know what it is to be contented, and who, when trialscome upon them, endeavor to make the best of them, anyhow.

  HIGH JINKS IN THE BARN

  _HIGH JINKS IN THE BARN_

  It was unquestionably a hot day; so hot, indeed, that John, the hiredman, said the thermometer had had to climb a tree to get high enough torecord the degree of the heat. Jimmieboy had been playing out under theapple-trees for two or three hours, and now, "just for greens," as thesaying went, he had climbed into the old barouche in the barn, where itwas tolerably cool and there was a soft cushion to lie off on. He closedhis eyes for a moment, and then a strange thing happened.

  The Wheelbarrow over by the barn door unmistakably spoke. "Say," it saidto the Farm Wagon, "there's one thing I like about you."

  "What's that?" said the Wagon.

  "You have such a long tongue, and yet you never say an unkind word aboutanybody," replied the Barrow, with a creak of its wheel that soundedvery much like a laugh.

  "That may be so," said the big gray Horse that was used with the fat oldbay to pull the farm wagon. "It may be just as you say, but that tonguehas come between me and one of my best friends many a time, I tell you."

  "I couldn't help that," retorted the Wagon. "The hired man made me doit; besides, I have a grudge against you."

  "What's the grudge?" queried the Horse.

  "You kicked me and my friend the Whiffletree that day you ran away downin the hay field," replied the Wagon. "I was dreadfully upset that day."

  "I should say you were," put in the Rake. "And when you were upset youfell on me and knocked out five of my teeth. I never had such a time."

  "You needed to have something done to those teeth, anyhow," said theSickle. "They were nearly all gone when that happened."

  "Oh, were they?" retorted the Rake. "And why were they nearly all gone?Do you know that?"

  "I do not. I suppose you had been trying to crack chestnuts with them.Was that it?"

  "No, it wasn't," retorted the Rake. "They were worn out cleaning up thelawns after you pretended to have finished them off."

  "You think you're bright, don't you?" replied the Sickle, with a sneer.

  "Well, if I was as dull as you are," returned the Rake, angrily, "I'dvisit the Grindstone and get him to put a little more edge on me."

  "Come, come; don't be so quarrelsome," said the Hose. "If you don'tstop, I'll drown the whole lot of you."

  "Tut!" retorted the Rake. "You look for all the world like a snake."

  "He is a snake," put in the Curry-comb. "He's a water-snake. Aren't you,Hosey?"

  "I'd show you whether I am or not if the faucet hadn't run dry."

  "Dear me!" laughed the Sled. "Hear Hosey talk! The idea of a faucetrunning! It hasn't moved an inch since it came here. Why, I've got tworunners that'll beat it out of sight on the side of a hill."

  "Yes, the down side," said the Pony. "Anything can run down hill. Even astupid old millstone can do that. But when it comes to running up hill,I'm ahead of you all. Why, the biggest river or avalanche in the worldcouldn't run up hill beside me."

  "That's so," put in the Riding-Whip. "And you and I know who makes youdo it--eh?"

  "I didn't say anything about that," said the Pony. "But I'll tell youone thing: if you'll come down here where I can reach you with one of myhind legs, I'll show you what nice shoes I wear."

  "Much obliged," said the Whip. "I don't wear shoes myself, and am notinterested in the subject. But if any man who is interested in bugswants to know how to make a horse fly, I can show him."

  "You are a whipper-snapper," said the Pony angrily.

  "Ho! ho!" jeered the Whip.

  "Anybody call me?" queried the Hoe, from the corner where he had beenasleep while all this conversation was going on.

  Then they all burst out laughing, and peace was restored.

  "They say the Fence is worn out," put in the Sickle.

  "I should think it would be," replied the Rake. "It's been running allaround this place night and day without ever stopping for the lasttwenty years."

  "How many miles is that?" queried the Wagon.

  "Well, once around is half a mile, but if it has gone around every nightand every day for twenty years," said the Grindstone, "that's one mileevery twenty-four hours--365 miles a year--3,650 miles in ten years, and7,300 miles in twenty years. Quite a record, eh?"

  "That's a good way for a Picket-fence to go," said the Wheelbarrow. "Itwould kill me to go half that distance."

  "Well, if you live until you do go half that distance," put in theHose, "you'll never die."

  "Ho! ho!" jeered the Barrow.

  "Somebody did call me that time!" cried the Hoe, waking up again. "I'msure I heard my name."

  "Yes, you did," said the Rake. "We waked you up to tell you thatbreakfast would be ready in about a month, and to say that if you wantedany you'd do well to go down to the river and see if you can't buy itsmouth, because if you don't, nobody knows how you can eat it."

  Here the loud and prolonged laugh caused Jimmieboy once more to open hiseyes, and as his papa was standing by the side of the carriage holdingout his hands to help him down and take him into the house to supper,the little fellow left the quarrelsome tools and horses and other thingsto themselves.

  JIMMIEBOY'S VALENTINE

  _JIMMIEBOY'S VALENTINE_

  Jimmieboy had been watching for the postman all day and he was gettingjust a little tired of it. It was Valentine's Day, and he was verynaturally expecting that some of his many friends would remember thatfact and send him a valentine. Still the postman, strange to say, didn'tcome.

  "He'll be later than usual," said Jimmieboy's mamma. "The postman alwaysis late on Valentine's Day. He has so many valentines to leave atpeople's houses."

  "Well, I wish he'd hurry," said Jimmieboy, "because I want to see whatmy valentimes look like."

  Jimmieboy always called valentines valentimes, so nobody paid anyattention to that mistake--and then the front door bell rang.

  "I guess, maybe, perhaps that's the postman--though I didn't hear hiswhistle," said Jimmieboy, rushing to the head of the stairs andlistening intently, but no one went to the door and Jimmieboy became soimpatient that he fairly tumbled down the stairs to open it himself.

  "Howdy do," he said, as he opened the door, and then he stopped short inamazement. There was no one there and yet his salutation was returned.

  "Howdy do!" something said. "I'm glad you came to the door, because Imightn't have got in if the maid had opened it. People who don'tunderstand queer things don't understand me, and I rather think if thegirl had opened that door and had been spoken to by something shecouldn't see she'd have started to run and hide, shrieking Lawk,meanwhile."

  "I've half a mind to shriek Lawk, myself," said Jimmieboy, a littlefearfully, for he wasn't quite easy about this invisible something hewas talking to. "Who are you, anyhow?"

  "I'm not a who, I'm a what," said the queer thing. "I'm not a person,I'm a thing--just a plain, homely, queer thing. I couldn't hurt a fly,so there's no reason why you should cry Lawk."

  "Well, what kind of a queer thing are you?" asked Jimmieboy. "Are youthe kind of a queer thing I can invite into the house or would it bebetter for me to shut the door and make you stay outside."

  "I don't like to say," said the queer thing, with a pathetic littlesigh. "I think I'm very nice and that anybody ought to be glad to haveme in the house, but that's only my opinion of myself. Somebody elsemight think differently. In fact somebody else has thought differently.You know rhinoceroses and crocodiles think themselves very handsome, andthat's why they sit and gaze at themselves in the water all the time.Everybody else though knows that they are very ugly. Now that's the waywith me. As I have said, I'm sure in my own mind that I
am perfectlysplendid, and yet your Uncle Periwinkle, who thought of me, wouldn'twrite me and send me to you."

  "You must be very wise if you know what you mean," said Jimmieboy. "Idon't."

  "Oh, no--I'm not so wise--I'm only splendid, that's all," said theother. "You see I'm a valentine, only I never was made. I was onlythought of. Your Uncle Periwinkle thought of me and was going to send meto you and then he changed his mind and thought you'd rather have a boxof candy; so he didn't write me and sent you a box of chocolate creamsinstead. The postman's got 'em and if he doesn't find out what they areand eat 'm all up you'll receive them this afternoon. Won't you let mecome in and tell you about myself and see if you don't like me? I wantto be liked--oh ever so much, and I was awfully disappointed when youruncle decided not to send me. I cried for eight minutes and thenresolved to come here myself and see if after all he wasn't wrong. Letme come in and if you don't like me I'll go right out again and nevercome back."

  "I like you already, without knowing what kind of a valentime you are,"said Jimmieboy, kindly. "Of course you can come in, and you can stay aslong as you want to. I don't believe you'll be in anybody's way."

  "Thank you very much," said the valentine, gratefully, as it moved intothe house, and, to judge from where its voice next came, settled down onthe big sofa cushion. "I hoped you'd say that."

  "What kind of a valentime are you?" asked Jimmieboy in a moment. "Areyou a funny one or a solemn one, with paper frills all over it in a boxand a little cupid peeping out from behind a tree?"

  "I am almost afraid to tell you," said the valentine, timidly. "I am soafraid you won't like me."

  "Oh, yes I will," said Jimmieboy, hastily. "I like all kinds ofvalentimes."

  "Well, that's a relief," said the other. "I'm comic."

  "Hooray!" cried Jimmieboy, "I just love comic valentimes with red andblue pictures in 'em and funny verses."

  "Do you really?" returned the valentine, cheerfully. "Then I can sayhooray, too, because that's what I was to be. I was to be a picture ofa boy with red trousers on, sitting crosswise on a great yellowbroomstick, galloping through a blue sky, toward a pink moon. How do youlike that?"

  "It _is_ splendid, just as you said," returned Jimmieboy, with a broadsmile. "Those are my favorite colors."

  "You like those colors better than you do chocolate cream color?" askedthe valentine.

  "Oh, my yes," said Jimmieboy. "Probably you wouldn't be so good to eatas a chocolate cream, but for a valentime, you're much better. I don'twant to eat valentimes, I want to keep 'em."

  "You don't know how glad you make me," said the pathetic littlevalentine, its voice trembling with happiness. "Now, if you like myverses as well as you do my picture, I will be perfectly content."

  "I guess I'll like 'em," said Jimmieboy. "Can you recite yourself tome?"

  "I'm not written--didn't I tell you?" returned the valentine. "That'sthe good part of it. I can tell you what I might have been and you cantake your choice."

  "That's good," said Jimmieboy. "Then I'm sure to be satisfied."

  "Just so," said the valentine. "Now let me think what I might have been!Hum! Well, what do you think of this:

  "If I had a cat with a bright red tail, And a parrot whose voice was soft and low I'd put 'em away in a water pail, And send 'em to where the glowworm's glow.

  "And then I would sit on an old whisk broom And sail through the great, soft starlit sky, To where the bright moonbeams gaily froom Their songs to the parboiled Gemini.

  "And I'd say to the frooming moonbeams that, I'd come from the home of the sweet woodbine, Deserting my parrot and red-tailed cat, To ask if they'd be my valentine."

  "I guess that's good," said Jimmieboy. "Only I don't know what froomingis."

  "Neither do I," said the valentine, "but that needn't make anydifference. You see, it's a nonsense rhyme any how, and I couldn'tremember any word that rhymed with broom. Froom isn't a bad word, andinasmuch as it's new to us we can make it mean anything we want to."

  "That's true," said Jimmieboy. "But why do you send the cat and theparrot off?"

  "They aren't in the picture," said the valentine, "and so of course wehave to get rid of them before we have the boy start off on thebroomstick. It would be very awkward to go sailing off through the skyon a broomstick with a parrot and cat in tow. Then to show the moonbeamshow much the boy thinks of them you have to have him leave somethingbehind that he thinks a great deal of, and that something might just aswell be a parrot and a cat as anything else."

  "And what does it all mean?" asked Jimmieboy. "Is the boy supposed to beme?"

  "No," explained the valentine. "The boy is supposed to be UnclePeriwinkle, and you are the moonbeams. In putting the poem the way I'vetold you it's just another and nonsense way of saying that he'll be yourvalentine and will take a great deal of trouble and make sacrifices todo it if necessary."

  "I see," said Jimmieboy. "And I think it very nice indeed--though Imight like some other verse better."

  "Of course you might," said the valentine. "That's the way witheverything. No matter how fine a thing may be, there may be somethingelse that might be better, and the thing to do always is to look aboutand try to find that better thing. How's this:

  "'The broom went around to Jimmieboy's, And cried, 'Oh, Jimmieboy B., Come forth in the night, desert your toys, And take a fine ride with me.

  "I'll take you off through the starlit sky, We'll visit the moon so fine, If you will come with alacrity, And be my valentine.'"

  "That isn't so bad, either," said Jimmieboy. "I sort of wish abroomstick would come after me that way and take me sailing off to themoon. I'd be its valentime in a minute if it would do that. I'd like totake a trip through all the stars and see why they twinkle and----"

  "Why they twinkle?" interrupted the valentine. "Why they twinkle? Hoh!Why, I can tell you that--for as a secret just between you and me, _I_know a broomstick that has been up to the stars and he told me allabout them. The stars twinkle because from where they are, they are sohigh up, they can see all that is going on in the world, and they see somany amusing things that it keeps 'em laughing all the time and theyhave to twinkle just as your eyes do when they see anything funny."

  "That's it, is it?" said Jimmieboy.

  "Yes, _sir_!" said the valentine, "and it's fine, too, to watch 'em whenyou are feeling sad. You know how it is when you're feeling sort ofunhappy and somebody comes along who feels just the other way, wholaughs and sings, how you get to feel better yourself right off? Well,remember the stars when you don't feel good. How they're alwaystwinkling--watch 'em, and by and by you'll begin to twinkle yourself.You can't help it--and further, Jimmieboy," added this altogetherstrange valentine, "when anybody tries to make you think that thisworld has got more bad things than good things in it, look at the starsagain. They wouldn't twinkle if that was so and until the stars stoptwinkling and begin to frown, don't you ever think badly of the world."

  "I won't," said Jimmieboy. "I always did like the world. As long as I'vebeen in it I've thought it was a pretty fine place."

  "It is," said the valentine. "Nobody can spoil it either--unless you doit yourself--but, I say, if you'd like to have me I'll introduce you tomy broomstick friend sometime and maybe some day he'll give you thatride."

  "Will you?" cried Jimmieboy with delight. "That will be fine. You arethe dearest old valentime that ever was."

  Saying which, forgetting in his happiness that the valentine was not tobe seen and so could not be touched, Jimmieboy leaned over to hug himaffectionately as he sat on the sofa cushion.

  Which may account for the fact that when Jimmieboy's papa came home hefound Jimmieboy clasping the sofa cushion in his arms, asleep andunconscious of the fact that the postman had come and gone, leavingbehind him six comic valentines, four "solemn ones," and a package ofchocolate creams from Uncle Periwinkle.

  When he waked he was rejoiced to find them, but he has often told mesince that the fines
t valentine he ever got was the one Uncle Periwinklethought he wouldn't like as well as the candy; and I believe he stillhas hopes that the invisible valentine may turn up again some day,bringing with him his friend the broomstick who will take Jimmieboy offfor a visit to the twinkling stars.

  THE MAGIC SLED

  _THE MAGIC SLED_

  When Jimmieboy waked up the other morning the ground was white with snowand his heart was rejoiced. Like many another small youth Jimmieboy hasvery little use for green winters. He likes them white. Somehow or otherthey do not seem like winters if they haven't plenty of snow and he hadbeen much afraid that the season was going to pass away without bringingto him an opportunity to use the beautiful sled Santa Claus had broughthim at Christmas.

  It was a fine sled, one of the finest he had ever seen. It had a redback, yellow runners and two swan heads standing erect in front of it totell it which way it should go. On the red surface of the back waspainted its name in very artistic blue letters, and that name wasnothing more nor less than "Magic."

  "Hooray," he cried as he rushed to the window and saw the dazzlingsilver coating on the lawn and street. "Snow at last! Now I can see ifMagic can slide."

  He dressed hastily--so hastily in fact that he had to undress again,because it was discovered by his mother, who came to see how he wasgetting along, that he had put on his stocking wrong side out, and thathis left shoe was making his right foot uncomfortable.

  "Don't be in such a hurry," said his Mamma. "There was a man once whowas always in such a hurry that he forgot to take his head down townwith him one day, and when lunch time came he hadn't anything with himto eat his lunch with."