DICKY SMILEY'S BIRTHDAY.
"In order to be especially beneficial and effective, story-tellingshould be connected with the events and occurrences of life."--Froebel.
Dicky Smiley was eight years old when all these things happened that Iam going to tell you; eight years old, and as bright as a steel button.It was very funny that his name should be Smiley, for his face was justlike a sunbeam, and if he ever cried at all it was only for a minute,and then the smiles would creep out and chase the tear-drops away fromthe blue sky of his eyes.
Dicky's mother tried to call him Richard, because it was his papa'sname, but it never would say itself somehow, and even when she didremember, and called him "Richard," his baby sister Dot would cry,"Mamma, don't scold Dicky."
He had once a good, loving papa like yours, when he was a tiny baby inlong white clothes; but the dear papa marched away with the blue-coatedsoldiers one day, and never came back any more to his little children;for he died far, far away from home, on a green battlefield, with manyother soldiers. You can think how sad and lonely Dicky's mamma was, andhow she hugged her three babies close in her arms, and said:&&
"Darlings, you haven't any father now, but the dear God will help yourmother to take care of you!"
And now she was working hard, so very hard, from morning till nightevery day to get money to buy bread and milk and clothes for Bess andDot and Dicky.
But Dicky was a good little fellow and helped his mamma ever so much,pulling out bastings from her needlework, bringing in the kindlingand shavings from the shed, and going to the store for her butter andpotatoes and eggs. So one morning she said:&&
"Dicky, you have been such a help to me this summer, I'd like to giveyou something to make you very happy. Let us count the money in yourbank--you earned it all yourself--and see what we could buy with it. Tobe sure, Bess wants a waterproof and Dot needs rubbers, but we do wantour little boy to have a birthday present."
"Oh, mamma," cried he, clapping his hands, "what a happy day it willbe! I shall buy that tool-box at the store round the corner! It's such abeauty, with a little saw, a claw-hammer, a chisel, a screw-driver, andeverything a carpenter needs. It costs just a dollar, exactly!"
Then they unscrewed the bank and found ninety-five cents, so that itwould take only five cents more to make the dollar. Dicky earned thatbefore he went to bed, by piling up wood for a neighbor; and hismamma changed all the little five and ten cent pieces into two brighthalf-dollars that chinked together joyfully in his trousers pocket.
The next morning he was up almost at the same time the robins andchimney-swallows flew out of their nests; jumped down the stairs, two ata time, and could scarcely eat his breakfast, such a hurry as he was into buy the precious tool-box. He opened the front door, danced down thewooden steps, and there on the curb in front of the house stood a littlegirl, with a torn gingham apron, no shoes, no hat, and her nut-browncurls flying in the wind; worse than all, she was crying as if her heartwould break.
"Why, little girl, what's the matter?" asked Dicky, for he was akind-hearted boy, and didn't like to see people cry.
She took down her apron and sobbed:&&
"Oh, I've lost my darling little brown dog, and I can never get himback!"
"Why, has somebody poisoned him--is he dead?" said Dicky.
She shook her head.
"No, oh no! The pound-man took him away in his cart--my sweet little bitof a dog; he has such a cunning little curly tail, and long, silky ears;he does all kinds of tricks, and they'll never let me in at home withoutBruno."
And then she began to cry harder than ever, so that Dicky hardly knewwhat to say to her.
Now the pound, children, is a very large place somewhere near the city,with a high fence all around it, and inside are kept colts and horses,the little calves and mother cows, and the sheep and goats that run awayfrom home, or are picked up by the roadside. The pound-man rides alongthe street in a big cart, which has a framework of slats built overit, so that it looks something like a chicken-coop on wheels, and init--some of you have seen him do it--he puts the poor dogs that haven'tcollars on, and whose masters haven't paid for them. Then he rides awayand locks them up in the great place inside the high fence, and theyhave to stay awhile. The dogs are killed if nobody comes for them.
"Well," said Dicky, "let us go and see the pound-man. Do you know wherehe lives?"
"Yes, indeed," answered the little girl, whose name was Lola. "I ranbehind the cart all the way to the pound. I cried after Bruno, and Brunowhined for me, and poked his nose between the bars and tried to jumpout, but he couldn't. It's a pretty long way there, and the man is ascross as two sticks."
But they started off, and on and on they walked together, Dicky havingtight hold of Lola's hand, while she told him about the wonderful thingsBruno could do; how he could go up and down a ladder, play the fifeand beat the drum, make believe go to sleep, and dance a jig. It was bythese tricks of his that Lola earned money for her uncle, with whom shelived; for her father and mother were both dead, and there was no one inthe whole world who loved the little girl. The dear mother had died in abeautiful mountain country far across the ocean, and Lola and Brunohad been sent in a ship over to America. Now this dear, pretty mamma ofLola's used to sing to her when she rocked her to sleep, and as she grewfrom a baby to a tiny girl she learned the little songs to sing to Brunowhen he was a little puppy. Would you like to hear one of them? She usedto sing it on the street corners, and at the end of the last verse thatknowing, cunning, darling Bruno would yawn as if he could not keep awakeanother minute, tuck his silky head between his two fore paws, shut hisbright eyes, give a tired little sigh, and stay fast asleep until Lolawaked him. This is the song:&&
Wake, lit-tle Bru-no! Wake, lit-tle Bru-no,
Wake, lit-tle Bru-no quick-ly!
When the two children came to the pound and saw the little house at thegate where the pound-man lived, Dicky was rather frightened and hardlydared walk up the steps; but after a moment he thought to himself, "Iwon't be a coward; I haven't done anything wrong." So he gave the doora rousing knock, for an eight-year-old boy, and brought the man out atonce.
"What do you want?" said he, in a gruff voice, for he did seem rathercross.
"Please, sir, I want Lola's little brown dog. He's all the dog she has,and she earns money with him. He does funny tricks for ten cents."
"How do you think I know whether I've got a brown dog in there or not?"growled he. "You'd better run home to your mothers, both of you."
At this Lola began to cry again, and Dicky said quickly:&&
"Oh, you 'd know him soon as anything,--he has such a cunning curly tailand long silky ears. His name is Bruno."
"Well," snapped the man, "where's your money? Hurry up! I want mybreakfast."
"Money!" cried Dicky, looking at Lola.
"Money!" whispered little Lola, looking back at Dicky.
"Yes," said he, "of course! Give me a dollar and I will give you thedog."
"But," answered Lola, "I haven't a bit of money; I never have any."
"Neither have"--began Dicky; and then his fingers crept into histrousers pocket and felt the two silver half-dollars that were to buyhis tool-box. He had forgotten all about that tool-box for an hour, buthow could he--how could he ever give away that precious money whichhe had been so long in getting together, five cents at a time? Heremembered the sharp little saw, the stout hammer, the cunning plane,bright chisel, and shining screw-driver, and his fingers closed roundthe money tightly; but just then he looked at pretty little Lola, withher sad face, her swollen eyes and the brave red lips she was trying tokeep from quivering with tears. That was enough; he quickly drew out thesilver dollar, and said to the pound-man:&&
"Here's your dollar--give us the dog!"
The man looked much surprised. Not many little eight-year-old boys havea dollar in their trousers pocket.
"Where did you get it?" he asked.
"I earned every cent of it," answered poor Dicky with a lump i
n histhroat and a choking voice. "I brought in coal and cut kindlings formost six months before I got enough, and there ain't another tool-box inthe world so good as that one for a dollar--but I want Bruno!"
{Illustration: "Here's your dollar--give us the dog'"}
Then the pound-man showed them a little flight of steps that led up toa square hole in the wall of the pound, and told them to go up and lookthrough it and see if the dog was there. They climbed up and put theirtwo rosy eager faces at the rough little window. "Bruno! Bruno!" calledlittle Lola, and no Bruno came; but every frightened homesick littledoggy in that prison poked up his nose, wagged his tail, and startedfor the voice. It didn't matter whether they were Fidos, or Carlos, orRovers, or Pontos; they knew that they were lonesome little dogs, andperhaps somebody had remembered them. Lola's tender heart ached at thesight of so many fatherless and motherless dogs, and she cried,&&
"No, no, you poor darlings! I haven't come for you; I want my ownBruno."
"Sing for him, and may be he will come," said Dicky; and Lola leaned herelbow on the window sill and sang:&&
Lit-tle shoes are sold at the gate-way of Heaven, And to all the tattered lit-tle an-gels are giv-en; Slum-ber my dar-ling, Slum-ber my dar-ling, Slum-ber my dar-ling sweet-ly.
Now Bruno was so tired with running from the pound-man, so hungry, sofrightened, and so hoarse with barking that he had gone to sleep; butwhen he heard Lola's voice singing the song he knew so well, he startedup, and out he bounded half awake--the dearest, loveliest little browndog in the world, with a cunning curly tail sticking up in a round bobbehind, two long silky ears that almost touched the ground, and foursoft white feet.
Then they were two such glad children, and such a glad little browndog was Bruno! Why, he kissed Lola's bare feet and hands and face,and nearly chewed her apron into rags, he was so delighted to see hismistress again. Even the cross pound-man smiled and said he was theprettiest puppy, and the smartest, he had ever had in the pound, andthat when he had shut him up the night before he had gone through allhis funny tricks in hopes that he would be let out.
Then Dicky and Lola walked back home over the dusty road, Bruno runningalong beside them, barking at the birds, sniffing at the squirrels, andchasing all the chickens and kittens he met on the way, till at lastthey reached the street corner, where Lola turned to go to her home,after kissing her new friend and thanking him for being so good and kindto her.
But what about Master Dicky himself, who had lost his tool-box? Hedidn't feel much like a smiling boy just then. He crept in at the backdoor, and when he saw his dear mother's face in the kitchen he couldn'tstand it a minute longer, but burst out crying, and told her all aboutit.
"Well, my little son," said she, "I'm very, very sorry. I wish I couldgive you another dollar, but I haven't any money to spare. You did justright to help Lola find Bruno, and buy him back for her, and I'mvery proud of my boy; but you can't give away the dollar and have thetool-box too. So wipe your eyes, and try to be happy. You didn't eat anybreakfast, dear, take a piece of nice bread and sugar."
So Dicky dried his tears and began to eat.
After a while he wanted to wipe his sticky, sugary little mouth, and ashe took his clean handkerchief out of his pocket, two shining, chinking,clinking round things tumbled out on the floor and rolled underthe kitchen table! What could they have been! Why, his two silverhalf-dollars, to be sure. And where in the world did they come from, doyou suppose? Why, it was the nicest, funniest thing! The pound-man wasnot so cross after all, for he thought Lola and Dicky were two such kindchildren, and Bruno such a cunning dog, that he could not bear to takeDicky's dollar away from him; so while the little boy was looking theother way the pound-man just slipped the money back into Dick's bit of apocket without saying a word. Wasn't that a beautiful surprise?
So Dicky ran to the corner store as fast as his feet could carry him,and bought the tool-box.
Every Saturday afternoon he has such a pleasant time playing with it!And who do you suppose sits on the white kitchen floor with Dot andBess, watching him make dolls' tables and chairs with his carpenter'stools? Why, Lola, to be sure, and a little brown dog too, with a cunningcurly tail turned up in a round bob behind, and two long silky earstouching the floor. For Dick's mamma had such a big heart that I dobelieve it would have held all the children in the world, and as Lola'suncle didn't care for her the least little bit, he gave her to thismamma of Dicky's, who grew to love this little girl almost as well asshe loved her own Dicky and Dot and Bess.
The Story Hour: A Book for the Home and the Kindergarten Page 4
