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The hot sun was now standing directly over the tops of the trees, and, as the moving shade had left the Vagabond with a part of his circle of children out in its broiling rays, he was glad indeed to pause with his story while they all rose at his request and formed a new circle farther in under the sheltering branches. Four of the boys leaped from the ground and scampered away to bring the water as the Vagabond had requested.
By R. G. Anderson.
Illustrations in colour By Dorothy Hope Smith.
16 Illustrated Bed-time Stories for Children
Marmaduke was sitting on the fence. He wasn’t thinking of anything in particular, just looking around. Jehosophat called to him from the barnyard,–
“Come’n an’ play ‘I spy.'”
But Marmaduke only grumbled,–
“Don’t want to.”
“Well, let’s play ‘Cross Tag’ then,” Jehosophat suggested.
“Don’t want to,” repeated his brother again, not very politely.
Jehosophat thought for a moment, then he suggested something worth-while:
“I’ll tell you what, let’s play ‘Duck-on-the-Rock.'”
Now as every boy in the world–at least in America–knows, that is a wonderful game, but Marmaduke only said very crossly,–
“I don’t want to play any of your ol’ games.” Now when Marmaduke acted that way there must have been something the matter. Perhaps he had gobbled down his oatmeal too fast–in great big gulps–when he should have let the Thirty White Horses “champ, champ, champ,” all those oats. They were cooked oats, but then the Thirty White Horses, unlike Teddy and Hal and ole Methusaleh, prefer cooked oats to raw.
Perhaps he had eaten a green apple. Sometimes he did that, and the tart juice puckered his mouth all up, and–what was worse–puckered his stomach all up, too.
Any way, he felt tired and out-of-sorts; tired of his toys, tired of all the games, even such nice ones as “Duck-on-the-rock” and “Red Rover.”
There was nothing to do but sit on the fence.
Still, the world looked pretty nice from up there. It always looked more interesting from a high place, and sometimes it gave you an excited feeling. Of course, the big elm was a better perch, or the roof of the barn, and Marmaduke often wondered what it would be like to see the world from a big balloon, but the fence was good enough. It curved up over a little hill, and he could see lots of the world from there.
He looked over towards the West, where the Sun marched into his barn every night. Fatty Hamm declared that the Sun kept a garage behind that hill, but Marmaduke insisted it was a barn, for he liked horses best, and the Sun must drive horses. There was a real hill there, not little like the one where he sat on the fence, but a big one, ‘most as big as a mountain, Marmaduke thought. Sometimes it was green, and sometimes grey or blue, and once or twice he had seen it almost as purple as a pansy.
But it was Fall now, and the hill had turned brown. Over it he could see little figures moving. He looked at them very carefully, with one eye shut to see them the better. Then he decided that the bigger ones were men on horses, the little ones dogs. They all looked tiny because they were so far away.
As they came nearer and the sun shone on them, he was pretty sure the men had red coats. Could they be soldiers?
Just then the Toyman came by, with coils of wire and clippers in his hand. He was on his way to mend the fence in the North Pasture.
“‘Llo Toyman!” said Marmaduke. “Howdy, little fellow!” replied the Toyman, “what are you doing there? Settin’ on the top of the world and enjoyin’ yourself?”
“I was wondering what those men over there were doing.” And the boy waved his hand towards the little black figures on the hill.
“Why, that’s the hunt,” explained the Toyman. “The rich folks, having nothing better to do, are killin’ time.”
Marmaduke was puzzled.
“Are they really hunting Time?” he asked. “I thought maybe they were hunting lions or tigers.”
“No, not today,” the Toyman responded, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but they’re only after Reddy.”
“Reddy Toms?” the little boy exclaimed. “Why, whatever did he do?”
Now Reddy Toms was a boy in his own class, and you could always tell him a long way off because his head was covered with red hair as thick as a thatched roof, and his face was spotted all over, like a snake’s, with freckles.
However, the Toyman said it was all a mistake.
“No, not that tad,” he explained, “it’s Reddy Fox they’re after.”
“What!” exclaimed Marmaduke. “Does it take all those big men to hunt one little fox?”
“It seems so, son,” the Toyman returned, “but that’s the way of the world.”
“Well, I think it’s mean,” insisted Marmaduke. “Those men are nothing’ but–but–dumbbells!”
The Toyman threw back his head and laughed. That was a new expression to him, but it was a perfectly good one. You see, the big boys in school used it when they thought anyone was particularly stupid or mean. But the Toyman must have understood it anyway, for he went on,–
“That’s my sentiments exactly. I don’t suppose they mean to be cruel, but they don’t give little Reddy half a chance–and he’s so small! Now if it was lions or tigers, as you suggest, why, that would be different.”
“You bet it would!” Marmaduke replied. “I just wish it was.” Now, of course, he should have said “were,” as the teacher in the Red Schoolhouse was forever telling him, but a little boy can’t always remember correct English when a hunt is coming so close.
“Just set tight, boy, and you’ll see their red coats soon.”
And, waving his clippers, the Toyman went on his way to the North Pasture.
But Marmaduke didn’t need any advice. He had spotted those red coats already. They were much nearer now, for they rode very fast. Already the horses were leaping the fence of the Miller Farm, and the dogs were crisscrossing over the field, making lots of letter W’s as they ran–hundreds of them, Marmaduke was sure. And they followed something–something so small he could hardly see what it was. But he guessed it must be Reddy.
So many fences they leaped, and so many stone walls! Now they were near the Brook, and yes, he could see the red coats, very bright and plain now.
And then he spied Reddy. His coat wasn’t as gay as those the men wore. Theirs were bright like cherries, and his was the color of chestnuts. It seemed such a shame to want his poor little coat when the men had such nice ones themselves. “Cracky!” he exclaimed. One of the “ole hunters” had fallen in the Brook. And Marmaduke hoped that red coat would get soaked and soaked and run like the stockings Mother had bought from the pedlar. And he hoped that “ole hunter” would get wet to the skin, and shiver and shiver, and have to call in the doctor who’d prescribe the very worst medicine there was in the world. It would serve that “ole hunter” right if he’d almost die. But Marmaduke hoped the poor horse wouldn’t break his leg. It wasn’t the horses’ fault they were chasing Reddy.
Now the hunters were lost in Jake Miller’s Woods. All he could see were patches of red, here and there, in the bushes, but he heard the deep voices of the dogs, all the time, calling and calling.
Then all-of-a-sudden something happened. And Marmaduke liked all-of-a-sudden things to happen–they were so exciting.
A little streak of fur, with tail flying behind like a long pretty hat brush, galloped across the Apgar field, then the very field where Marmaduke sat, perched on the fence.
The dogs were right after Reddy, running hard, too, but they were two fields farther back. Reddy, you see, had fooled them in that wood, and he had gotten a good headstart.
My, how Reddy was running!
Marmaduke stood up on the fence and shouted:
He shouted so hard, and waved his hands so excitedly that he tumbled off his perch, and lay still for a second. He was frightened, too, but he forgot all about the bump on his forehead, and picked himself up, and ran after Reddy across the field towards the barnyard, which, fortunately, was just on the other side.
“Ooooooohhhhh!”–a very deep “Oooooohhhh!” came from behind him from the throats of the dogs. They were only one field away now, and it sounded as if they were pretty mad.
Marmaduke stood on the fence and shouted – Hooray! Go it, Reddy!
But Reddy had reached the corner of the field where the blackberry bushes lined the fence. Now usually Reddy would have looked all around those bushes until he found an opening; then he would have stepped daintily through it. But he didn’t do that today, oh no! You see his family has a great reputation for wisdom, and Reddy must have been just as wise as the man in Mother Goose, for he neither stopped nor stayed, but jumped right in those brambles and managed somehow to get through the rails of the fence to the other side. He left part of his pretty red coat in the briars. However, that was better than leaving it all to those dogs who were howling not far behind.
And now the Little Fox found himself near the barn and flew towards it so fast that his legs fairly twinkled as he ran.
The Foolish White Geese were taking their morning waddle, and Reddy ran plump into them. Now there was nothing that he liked better to eat than nice fat goose. Still, he didn’t wait, but left them beating their wings and stretching their long necks to hiss, hiss, hiss, as they scattered in all directions. I guess Reddy wished his legs were as long as their necks.
Now in the old days when rich folks lived in castles and robber knights quarreled and fought every day of the week, there were always places of sanctuary, where any man could be safe from harm. That is just what Reddy saw in front of him, a place of sanctuary for himself.
It was funny, but it had been prepared by little Wienerwurst. And Wienerwurst was really Reddy’s enemy, for all dogs like to chase foxes whenever they get the chance. It was a little hole, just the right size for Wienerwurst, just the right size for Reddy. The little yellow doggie wasn’t there now. He had dug it that morning to catch the big rat hiding somewhere below the floor of the barn. He had started to build a tunnel under the wall, and had been a long time working at it when Mother Green came from the house. She carried a fine large bone, with lots of meat left on it, too. And, of course, when the little dog smelled that bone and meat, much as he liked rats, he just had to leave his work at the tunnel and run straight for the bone, leaving the hole waiting for Reddy.
Straight into it Reddy ran, just as Marmaduke and the big dogs reached the fence and the blackberry bushes, all at the same time. Now Marmaduke could have cried because the hunter dogs would reach the hole before he could get there and cover it up, and they would reach down into that hole and drag Reddy out by his pretty red coat and eat him all up.
But when he stuck his head through the rail he saw help coming. Jehosophat was there and he had heard those bad dogs and seen them, too, coming on with their big mouths open and their tongues hanging out as if they wanted to swallow Reddy down in one gulp. And Jehosophat could see the redcoats on the horses not far away. They had reached the big oak in the field and were coming on very fast.
He looked around. There was the very thing. A nice, broad cover of an egg-crate. It would fit exactly. So, quick as a wink, Jehosophat picked it up and clapped it over the hole. Then he looked around again. It wasn’t quite safe yet. But there was the big rock which they used for “Duck-on-the-rock.” The very thing! It was almost more than he could manage, that rock, but he pulled and he tugged, and he tugged and he pulled, ’til he had it safe on the crate-cover over the hole–and Reddy was saved!
It was just in time, too, for the dogs had come barking and yelping and bellowing, and now all they could do was to sniff, sniff, sniff around that hole.
Then over the fence into the barnyard jumped the horses; and Marmaduke came running up; and the Toyman rushed over from the field; and Father came out of the barn; and Mother flew out of the house; and Rover and Brownie and Wienerwurst raced from the pond, each one to see what all the hullabaloo was about.
What they did see was the two boys standing guard in front of the hole to protect little Reddy, and the big hunter dogs jumping up on them with their paws and growling most terribly. It was a wonder that the boys weren’t frightened enough to run away, but they didn’t. They just stood their ground. Still, they were glad enough to see Father and the Toyman close by.
And now one of the men in redcoats had dismounted from his horse, and Marmaduke called to him,–
“You shan’t touch Reddy, you shan’t!”
He was half crying, too, not for himself, but for Reddy.
The man was taking off his cap. He was very polite, and he bowed to Mother.
“We’ll pay for all damages, Madam, but let us have the brush.”
The boys thought that was funny, calling their mother “madam,” when everybody in the neighborhood called her “Mis’ Green.” And what did he want a brush for? To brush his fine cap and red coat or his shiny boots? Or to wipe up Reddy out of his hole? However, the Toyman was whispering:
“He means Reddy’s tail. That’s what hunters call the brush.”
When Marmaduke heard that, he grabbed tight hold of the Toyman’s hand on one side and of his father’s on the other, and shouted:
“Don’t let them get Reddy!”
But Father was talking to the man. He called him “Mr. Seymour-Frelinghuysen,” and both the boys wondered if all people with fine horses and shiny boots and red coats had to have long, funny-sounding names like that.
“It’s all right about the damages, Mr. Seymour-Frelinghuysen,” Father was saying, “but I guess we won’t give up the fox today.”
And Father smiled down at Marmaduke, and oh, wasn’t that little boy relieved and happy, and his brother, too! As for the Toyman, he had a funny twinkle in his eyes.
Of course, there was a lot of grumbling on the part of the redcoats, and a lot of barking and growling from the big hunter dogs, but the men had to get on their horses and call off their dogs and ride away. “I guess they knew they were in the wrong,” said Jehosophat, after they had tied up Rover and Brownie and Wienerwurst, and taken the stone and board away from Reddy’s hole.
Then they looked in the hole-but no Reddy!
Meanwhile the Toyman had gone into the barn.
“Come here!” he shouted.
So they ran in, and there, in the corner, hidden under the hay was Reddy, all muddy from the brook and torn from the briars. His eyes looked very bright, but they looked pitiful too.
The Toyman put out his hand and stroked his fur. At first Reddy showed his teeth and snapped at the Toyman just like a baby wolf. But that hand came towards him so quietly, and the voice sounded so gentle, that Reddy lay still. You see, the Toyman somehow understood how to treat foxes and all kinds of animals just as well as he did boys, little or big.
“What doesn’t that man know?” Mother had said once, and right she was, too.
It took some time to train Reddy, for, although he was very small, he was very wild. However, the Toyman managed to tame him. Perhaps it was because the Little Lost Fox was wounded and sore and hurt all over. Anyway, he seemed to appreciate what the Toyman did for him, for all he was a little wild child of the fields and the forests.
They built him a house, all for himself, and a fence of wire. It was great fun to see him poking his sharp nose through the holes and stepping around so daintily on his pretty little feet.
He always had such a wise look. In fact, he was too wise altogether, for one day he was gone, through some little hole he had dug under his fence.–And they never saw him again–at least, they haven’t to this day.
At first the three children felt very sad about this, but when the Toyman explained it, they saw how everything was all right.
“You see,” the Toyman said, “he’s happier in the woods and fields than being cooped up here.”
Marmaduke thought about that for a moment.
“Anyway,” he began, “anyway,—-”
“Yes?” said Mother, trying to help him out.
“Anyway, I’m glad we saved him from the ole redcoats,” he finished.
And maybe Reddy will visit them again someday. Stranger things than that have happened. So, who knows…..?
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From: Half-Past Seven Stories by R. G. Anderson. Illustrations in colour By Dorothy Hope Smith.
ISBN: 9788828315827
CLICK HERE to download this story – https://bit.ly/2UFbXPn
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Old Gwilym Evans started off one fine morning to walk across the Eagle Hills to a distant town, bent upon buying some cheese.
On his way, in a lonely part of the hills, he found a golden guinea, which he quickly put into his p
ocket. When he got to the town, instead of buying his provisions, he went into an alehouse, and sat drinking and singing with some sweet-voiced quarrymen until dark, when he thought it was time to go home. Whilst he was drinking, an old woman with a basket came in, and sat beside him, but she left before him. After the parting glass he got up and reeled through the town, quite forgetting to buy his cheese; and as he got amongst the hills they seemed to dance up and down before him, and he seemed to be
walking on air. When he got near the lonely spot where he had found the money he heard some sweet music, and a number of fairies crossed his path and began dancing all round him, and then as he looked up he saw some brightly-lighted houses before him on the hill; and he scratched his head, for he never remembered having seen houses thereabouts before. And as he was thinking, and watching the fairies, one came and begged him to come into the house and sit down. So he followed her in, and found the house was all gold inside it, and brightly lighted, and the fairies were dancing and singing, and they brought him anything he wanted for supper, and then they put him to bed.Gwilym slept heavily, and when he awoke turned round, for he felt very cold, and his body seemed covered with prickles; so he sat up and rubbed his eyes, and found that he was quite naked and lying in a bunch of gorse. When he found himself in this plight he hurried home, and told his wife, and she was very angry with him for spending all the money and bringing no cheese home, and then he told her his adventures.
walking on air. When he got near the lonely spot where he had found the money he heard some sweet music, and a number of fairies crossed his path and began dancing all round him, and then as he looked up he saw some brightly-lighted houses before him on the hill; and he scratched his head, for he never remembered having seen houses thereabouts before. And as he was thinking, and watching the fairies, one came and begged him to come into the house and sit down. So he followed her in, and found the house was all gold inside it, and brightly lighted, and the fairies were dancing and singing, and they brought him anything he wanted for supper, and then they put him to bed.Gwilym slept heavily, and when he awoke turned round, for he felt very cold, and his body seemed covered with prickles; so he sat up and rubbed his eyes, and found that he was quite naked and lying in a bunch of gorse. When he found himself in this plight he hurried home, and told his wife, and she was very angry with him for spending all the money and bringing no cheese home, and then he told her his adventures.
“Oh, you bad man!” she said, “the fairies gave you money and you spent it wrongly, so they were sure to take their revenge.”
————–
From “Welsh Fairy Tales and Other Stories”
ISBN: 978-1-907256-03-5
URL: http://www.abelapublishing.com/welsh-fairy-tales-and-other-stories_p23332700.htm
————–
From “Welsh Fairy Tales and Other Stories”
ISBN: 978-1-907256-03-5
URL: http://www.abelapublishing.com/welsh-fairy-tales-and-other-stories_p23332700.htm
There was an old man with a multitude of children. He had an underground cave in the forest. He said, ‘Make me a honey-cake, for I will go and earn something.’ He went into the forest, and found a well. By the well was a table. He laid the cake on the table. The crows came and ate it. He slept by the well. He arose and saw the flies eating the crumbs. He struck a blow and killed a hundred flies. He wrote that he had killed a hundred souls with one blow. And he lay down and slept.
A dragon came with a buffalo’s skin to draw water. He saw what was written on the table, that he had killed a hundred souls. When he saw the old man, he feared. The old man awoke, and he too feared.
The dragon said, ‘Let’s become brothers.’
And they swore that they would be Brothers of the Cross. The dragon drew water. ‘Come with me, brother, to my palace.’
They went along a footpath, the old man first. When the dragon panted, he drove the old man forward; when he drew in his breath, he pulled him back. The dragon said, ‘Brother, why do you sometimes run forward and sometimes come back?’
‘I am thinking whether to kill you.’
‘Stay, brother, I will go first and you behind; maybe you will change your mind.’
They came to a cherry-tree. ‘Here, brother, have some cherries.’
The dragon climbed up, and the old man was eating below. The dragon said, ‘Come up, they’re better here.’
The old man said, ‘No, they aren’t, for the birds have defiled them.’
‘Catch hold of this bough.’
The old man did so. The dragon let go of it, and jerked the old man up, and he fell on a hare and caught it.
The dragon said, ‘What’s the matter, brother? Was the bough too strong for you?’
‘I sprang of my own accord, and caught this hare. I hadn’t time to run round, so up I sprang.’
The dragon came down and went home. The old man said, ‘Would you like a present, sister-in-law?’ [seemingly offering the hare to the dragon’s wife].
‘Thanks, brother-in-law.’
The dragon said to her aside, ‘Don’t say a word to him, else he’ll kill us, for he has killed a hundred souls with one blow.’ He sent him to fetch water: ‘Go for water, brother.’
He took the spade and the buffalo’s hide, dragged it after him, and went to the well, and was digging all round the well.
The dragon went to him. ‘What are you doing, brother?’
‘I am digging the whole well to carry it home.’
‘Don’t destroy the spring; I’ll draw the water myself.’
The dragon drew the water, and took the old man by the hand, and led him home. He sent him to the forest to fetch a tree. He stripped off bark, and made himself a rope, and bound the trees.
The dragon came. ‘What are you doing, brother?’
‘I am going to take the whole forest and carry it home.’
‘Don’t destroy my forest, brother. I’ll carry it myself.’ The dragon took a tree on his shoulders, and went home.
He said to his wife, ‘What shall we do, wife, for he will kill us if we anger him?’
She said, ‘Take uncle’s big club, and hit him on the head.’
The old man heard. He slept of a night on a bench. And he took the beetle, put it on the bench, dressed it up in his coat, and put his cap on the top of it. And he lay down under the bench. The dragon took the club, and felt the cap, and struck with the club. The old man arose, removed the beetle, put it under the bench, and lay down on the bench. He scratched his head. ‘God will punish you, brother, and your household, for a flea has bitten me on the head.’
‘There! do you hear, wife? I hit him on the head with the club, and he says a mere flea has bitten him. What shall we do with him, wife?’
Give him a sackful of money to go away.’
‘What will you take to go, brother? I’ll give you a sackful of money.’
‘Give it me.’
He gave it. ‘Take it, brother, and be gone.’
‘I brought my present myself; do you carry yours yourself.’
The dragon took it on his shoulders and carried it. They drew near to the underground cavern. The old man said, ‘Stay here, brother, whilst I go home and tie up the dogs, else they’ll wholly devour you.’ The old man went home to his children, and made them wooden knives, and told them to say when they saw the dragon, ‘Mother, father’s bringing a dragon; we’ll eat his flesh.’
The dragon heard them, and flung down the sack, and fled. And he met a fox.
‘Where are you flying to, dragon?’
‘The old man will kill me.’
‘Fear not; come along with me. I’ll kill him, he’s so weak.’
The children came outside and cried, ‘Mother, the fox is bringing us the dragon skin he owes us, to cover the cave with.’
The dragon took to flight, and caught the fox, and dashed him to the earth; and the fox died. The old man went to the town, and got a cart, and put the money in it. Then he went to the town, and built himself houses, and bought himself oxen and cows.
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From: GYPSY FOLK TALES BOOK ONE – Illustrated Edition
ISBN: 978-1-907256-XX-X
http://www.abelapublishing.com/gypsytales1-ill.html
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