Bikey the Skicycle and Other Tales of Jimmieboy

by John Kendrick Bangs

  "The flame you make, O Sulphur Match! When your big head I chance to scratch,

  "Appears so small most people deem You lilliputian, as you seem.

  "And yet the force that in you lies Can light with brilliance all the skies.

  "There's strength enough in you to send Great cities burning to their end;

  "So that we have a hint in you Of what the smallest thing can do.

  "Don't you like that?" queried the voice, anxiously. "I do hope you do,because I am especially proud of that. The word lilliputian is atremendous word for a poet of my size, and to think that I was able,alone and unassisted, to lift it bodily out of the vocabulary into thepoem makes me feel very, very proud of myself, and agree with my motherthat I am the greatest poet that ever lived."

  "Well, if you want me to, I'll like it," said Jimmieboy, who was in anaccommodating mood. "I'll take your word for it that it is a tremendouspoem, but if you think of repeating it over again to me, don't do it.Let me have another comic poem."

  "All right," said Pixyweevil--for it was he that spoke through the book."You are very kind to like my poem just to please me. Tell me anythingin the world you want a poem about, and I'll let you have the poem."

  "Really?" cried Jimmieboy, delighted to meet with so talented a personas Pixyweevil. "Well--let me see--I'd like a poem about my garden rake."

  "Certainly. Here it is:

  "I had a little garden rake With seven handsome teeth, It followed me o'er fern and brake, O'er meadow-land and heath.

  "And though at it I'd often scowl, And treat it far from right, My garden rake would never growl, Nor use its teeth to bite."

  "Elegant!" ejaculated Jimmieboy. "Say it again."

  "Oh no! we haven't time for that. Besides, I've forgotten it. What elseshall I recite about?" queried Pixyweevil.

  "I don't know; I can't make up my mind," said Jimmieboy.

  "Oh dear me! that's awful easy," returned Pixyweevil. "I can do thatwith my eyes shut. Here she goes:

  "Shall I become a lawyer great, A captain of a yacht, A man who deals in real estate, A doctor, or a what? Ah me! Oh ho! I do not know. I can't make up my mind.

  "I have a penny. Shall I buy An apple or a tart? A bit of toffee or a pie, A cat-boat or a cart? Ah me! Oh ho! I do not know. I can't make up my mind."

  "Splendid!" cried Jimmieboy.

  "That's harder--much harder," said Pixyweevil, "but I'll try. How isthis:

  "I bought one day, in Winnipeg, A truly wondrous heavy egg; And when my homeward course was run I showed it to my little son. 'Dear me!' said he, When he did see, 'I think that hen did Splen-did-ly!'

  "I saw a bird--'twas reddish-brown-- One day while in a country town, Which sang, 'Oh, Johnny, Get Your Gun;' And when I told my little son, In tones of glee Said he, 'Dear me! I think that wren did Splen-did-ly!"

  "That's the best I can do with splendid," said Pixyweevil.

  "Well, it's all you can do now, anyhow," came a voice from the doorway,which Jimmieboy immediately recognized as the Imp's; "for Jimmieboy'smamma has just telephoned that she wants him to come home right away."

  "It was very nice, Mr. Pixyweevil," said Jimmieboy, as he rose todepart. "And I am very much obliged."

  "Thank you," returned Pixyweevil. "You are very polite, and exceedinglytruthful. I believe myself that, as that 'Splendid' poem might say, ifit had time,

  "I've truly ended Splen-did-ly."

  And then Jimmieboy and the Imp passed out of the library back throughthe music and cookery room. The Imp unlocked the door, and, fixing thewires, sent Jimmieboy sliding gleefully down to the back hall, whence hehad originally entered the little telephone closet.

  "HULLO!" SAID HIS PAPA. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"]

  "Hullo!" said his papa. "Where have you been?"

  "Having a good time," said Jimmieboy.

  "And what have you done with the key of my cigar-box?"

  "Oh, I forgot," said Jimmieboy. "I left it in the telephone door."

  "What a queer place to leave it," said his papa. "Let me have it,please, for I want to smoke."

  And Jimmieboy went to get it, and, sure enough, there it was in thelittle box, and it unlocked it, too; but when his father came to openthe door and look inside, the Imp had disappeared.

  CAUGHT IN TOYTOWN

  _CAUGHT IN TOYTOWN_

  It came about in this way. Jimmieboy had been just a wee bit naughty,and in consequence had to sit in the night nursery all alone by himselffor a little while. Now, the night nursery was not an altogetherattractive place for a small boy to sit in all by himself, because allthe toys were kept in the day nursery, and beyond the bureau drawersthere was absolutely nothing in the room which could keep a boy busy formore than five minutes. So it happened that at the end of ten minutesJimmieboy was at his wits' ends to find out what he should do next. Atthe end of fifteen minutes he was about to announce to a waiting worldoutside that he'd make an effort to behave himself, and not tease hissmall brother any more, when his eye caught sight of a singular littlecrack in one corner of the room. It was the funniest looking crack heever saw, as it went zigzagging on its way from floor to ceiling, andthen, as he gazed at it it grew even queerer than ever, for it seemed towiden, and then what should appear at the bottom of it but a little irongate!

  "That's the curiousest thing I've seen yet!" said Jimmieboy, crawling onhis hands and knees over to the gate and peering through it. Then hesuddenly started back, somewhat frightened, for as he looked through thebars a great gruff voice cried out:--

  "That's five dollars you owe. Pay up--now. Quick, or the 'bus will gowithout me."

  And then a funny little old man that looked as if he had stepped out ofa Brownie book came to the other side of the gate and thrust his handthrough the bars in front of Jimmieboy.

  "Hear what I said?" the little old man cried out. "Five dollars--hurryup, or the 'bus'll go without me, and it gets lost every time it doesand then there's a fearful row and I'm discharged."

  "I haven't got five dollars," said Jimmieboy. "And, besides, if I had Iwouldn't give it to you, because I don't owe it to you."

  "You don't owe me five dollars?" cried the little old man angrily."Well, I like that. Then you mean to say you are a view stealer, doyou?"

  "I don't know what you mean," said Jimmieboy. "I never stole anything."

  "Yes you did, too," shrieked the little old man. "You just took a lookthrough these bars, and that look doesn't belong to you. This countrybelongs to us. You've used our view and now you say you won't pay forit."

  "Oh, I see," said Jimmieboy, who began to understand. "You charge forthe view--is that it?"

  "Yes," said the little old man more quietly. "We have to make a smallcharge to keep the view in repair, you know. There was a man here lastweek who spoiled one of our most beautiful bits of scenery. He looked atit so hard that it was simply used up. And another fellow, with two verysharp eyes, bored a hole through another view further along onlyyesterday. He gave it a quick, piercing, careless glance, and pop!--hisleft eye went right through it; and that's the reason we have to makepeople pay. Sightseers do a deal of damage."

  "Well, I'm very sorry," said Jimmieboy. "I didn't know there was anycharge or I wouldn't have looked."

  "Then we're square," said the little old man. "I have instructions tocollect five dollars or an apology from every one who uses our viewsuntil our Wizard has invented some way of enabling people to put backthe views they take without meaning to. Won't you come in and look aboutyou and see what an interesting country we have? You can pay for all yousee with apologies, since you have no money."

  The little old man turned the key on his side of the gate and opened it.

  "Thanks ever so much," said Jimmieboy. "I'd like to come in very muchindeed," and in he walked.

  "What is this place?" he asked, as he gazed about him and observed that
all the houses were made of cake and candy, and that all the trees werefashioned like those that came with his toy farm.

  "This," said the little old man, clanging the gate and locking it fast,"is Toyland, and you are my prisoner."

  "Your what?" cried Jimmieboy, taking instant alarm.

  "My prisoner is what I said," retorted the little old man. "I keep a toyshop in Toyland and I'm going to put you in my show window and sell youto the first big toy that wants to buy you for a Christmas present forhis little toy at home."

  "I d-don't understand," stammered Jimmieboy.

  "Well, you will in a minute," said the little old man. "We citizens ofToyland keep Christmas just as much as you people do, only our toys arechildren just as your toys are toys. You sell us when you can catch us,and we sell you when we catch you--and, what is more, the boy who iskind to his toys in your country finds his toy master in Toyland kind tohim. I am told that you are very good to your toys and keep them verycarefully, so you needn't be afraid that you will be given to one of ourrough toys, who will drag you around by one leg and leave you standingon your head in the closet all night."

  "But I don't want to be sold," said Jimmieboy.

  "Well, you'd better, then," retorted the little old man, "because ifsome one doesn't buy you we'll pack you up in a box and send you out toChina to the missionaries. Step right in here, please."

  Jimmieboy did not wish to obey in the least, but he didn't dare rebelagainst the commands of his captor, so, with an anxious glance down thestreet, he started to do as he was told, when a singular sight met hiseye. In glancing down the street he had caught sight of the toy-shopwindow, and what should he see there but his friends Whitty and Billieand Johnnie and sweet little Bettie Perkins who lived across the way,and half a dozen others of his small friends.

  "Fine display, eh?" said the little old man. "Great haul of children,eh?" he added. "Best window in town, and they'll sell like hot cakes."

  "You've got all my friends except Tommy Hicks," said Jimmieboy.

  "I know it," said the little old man. "We had Tommy this morning, too,but a plush rabbit living up on Main street came in and bought him toput in his little toy stocking. I don't envy Tommy much. He used totreat a plush rabbit he had very badly, and the one that bought himseemed to know it, for as he took Tommy out he kept punching him in thestomach and making him cry like a doll, calling 'mam-mah' and 'pah-pah'all the time. He gave me a dollar for Tommy, but I'll charge ten foryou. They'll have to pay a good price for Whitty, too, because there'sso much goes with him. He's got a collection of postage stamps in onepocket, a muffin ring and a picture book in another, and the front ofhis blouse is stuffed chock full of horse chestnuts and marbles. Whittymakes a singularly rich toy, and I think he'll sell as quickly as any ofyou."

  "How did you capture him?" asked Jimmieboy, who felt better now that hesaw that he was not alone in this strange land. "Did he come throughthat crack that I came by?"

  "No, indeed," said the little old man. "He came in through the pantrydoor. He climbed into his mamma's pantry after some jam, and while hewas there I just turned the pantry around, and when he'd filled up onjam he walked right through the door into the back of my shop, andbefore he knew it I had him priced and sitting in the window. There wasa wax doll in here this afternoon who wanted to buy him for her daughterFlaxilocks, but she only had $8, and I'm not going to let Whitty go forless than $12, considering all the things he's brought with him."

  Then Jimmieboy entered the shop, and it was indeed a curious place.Instead of there being toys on the shelves waiting to be bought, therewere piles of children lying there, while the toys were to be seenwalking up and down the floor, pricing first a boy and then a baby andthen a little girl. The salesmen were all Brownies, and most obligingones. It didn't seem to be a bit of trouble to them to show goods, andthey were very kind to the little toys that had come in with theirmothers, punching the children they had to sell in the stomach to makethem say what they were made to say; and making them show how easilyand gracefully they could walk, and, in short, showing off their waresto the very best advantage. Jimmieboy was too interested in what he sawto feel very anxious, and so, when the bazaar door had closed behindthem, he asked the little old man very cheerfully what he should do.

  "Step right into the window and sit down," said the little old man."Smile cheerfully and once in a while get up and twirl around on yourright leg. That will attract the attention of the toys passing on thestreet, and maybe one of 'em will come in and buy you. Do you sing?"

  "Yes," said Jimmieboy. "Why?"

  "Nothing. I only wanted to know so that I could describe you properly onthe placard you are to wear," said the little old man. "How would youlike to be called the Automatic-Musical-Jimmieboy?"

  "That would be first rate," said Jimmieboy. "Only I couldn't begin toremember it, you know."

  "You don't have to," said the little old man. "Nobody will askyou what you are, because the placard will tell that. Only wheneveranybody wants to see you, and I take you out of the window, you mustsing of your own accord. That's what I mean by calling you anAutomatic-Musical-Jimmieboy. It means simply that you are a Jimmieboythat sings of its own accord."

  So the placard was made, and Jimmieboy put it on, and got into thewindow, where, for hours, he was stared at by rag babies, tin soldiers,lead firemen, woolen monkeys and all sorts of other toys, who lived inthis strange land, and who were walking in throngs on the sugaredsidewalk without. One woolen monkey called in to price him, andJimmieboy sang a German kindergarten song for him, but the monkey foundhim too expensive, for, as you may already know, it rarely happens thatwoolen monkeys have as much as $10 in their pockets.

  A little later a wooden Noah, out of an ark across the street, came in,and purchased Whitty, and Jimmieboy began to feel tired and lonesome.The novelty of it all wore off after awhile, and some of the toys in thestreet bothered him a good deal by making faces at him, and a plasterlion said he thought he'd go in and take a bite of him, he looked sogood, which Jimmieboy didn't like at all, though it was meant to becomplimentary.

  Finally he was sold to a rubber doll with a whistle in its head, and thefirst thing he knew he was wrapped up in a bundle and put in apasteboard box to be sent by express to the rubber doll's cousin, wholived in the country. Jimmieboy didn't like this at all, and as thelittle old man tied the string that fastened him in the box he resistedand began to kick, and he kicked so hard that something fell over with acrash, and, freeing his arms from the twine and the box and the paper,he sprang up and began laying about him with his fists. The little oldman fled in terror. The rubber doll changed his mind and said he didn'tthink he cared for so violent a toy as the Automatic-Musical-Jimmieboyafter all, and started off. Jimmieboy, noting the terror that heinspired by his resistance, grabbed up three of the Brownies who weretrying to hide in the fire extinguisher, and rushed shouting out of theshop and landed--where do you suppose?

  Slap, bang in his own nursery!

  How the nursery got there or what became of the Brownies he does notknow to this day, but he remembers every detail of his experience verywell and it is from him that I got the story. The queerest thing aboutit, though, is that Whitty has no recollection of the adventure at all,which is really very strange, for Whitty has a marvellous memory. I haveknown both Whitty and Jimmieboy to remember things that never happenedat all, which makes Whitty's loss of memory on this occasion morewonderful than ever.

  At any rate, this story tells you exactly what happened to Jimmieboythat day at the beginning of the Christmas vacation, and I am convincedthat few of you have ever had anything at all like it happen to you,which is why I have told you all about it.

  TOTHERWAYVILLE; THE ANIMAL TOWN

  _TOTHERWAYVILLE; THE ANIMAL TOWN_

  "What place is this?" said Jimmieboy, as the express train came to afull stop. "I didn't know fast trains stopped at funny little placeslike this--and _do_ look! Why there is a horse sitting in a wagondriving a pair of men up hill."
>
  "Better not try to know too much about diss yere place, mistah," saidthe colored porter of the car Jimmieboy was travelling in. "Hit's apowahful funny sort o' place, but hit's just as well fo' you to stay onde kyar an' not go foolin' outside less you's asked."

  "I should say it was queer," returned Jimmieboy, "but I can't helpfeeling that I'd like to know all about it. What is it called?"

  "Totherwayville," returned the porter. "Hit's called like dat becauseeverything in it's done the other way from how you'd do it. If youwalked outside on de platform ob de station likely as not some littledog would come up and tie you to a chain an' go leadin' you round town;'nd you, you couldn't say a woyd. You'd only bark like as though youonly was a dog and dey'd give you bones to eat when dey didn't forgetit--less dey thought you was a cat, an' den dey'd most likely forget tofeed you on milk, de way you does with yo' cat."

  "I haven't got any cat," said Jimmieboy.

  "Dat's lucky fo' de cat," returned the porter. "Not dat I tinks yo'ain't as good an' kind a little boy as ebber lived, sah, but justbecause ebbery body dat owns cats sort of don't treat 'em as well asdey'd treat a baby for instance. De kindest heartedest little boy in deworl' would forget to gib his cat its dinner if he had a new toy to playwid, or a new suit o' party dress to put on to show his poppy when hecome home."

  The porter was called away for a minute by an old lady at the other endof the car who wanted to know what time the seven ten train generallystarted, and while he was gone Jimmieboy gazed wonderingly out of thewindow; and I can't say that I blame him for doing so, forTotherwayville was indeed a most singular place. There were very fewmen, women or children in the streets and those that were there appearedto live in a state of captivity. Small dogs led boys around by a stringor a chain; some of the boys wore muzzles. Here and there were men tiedto hitching posts, and all about were animals which Jimmieboy had alwayshitherto supposed were to be found only in the wild countries, or incircuses and zoological gardens.