Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  When he got to the brook he saw no one about, and so he hid in a clump of bushes. After a time the little man woke up, and in looking around for the drake he saw Johnny’s red wig sticking out of the top of the bushes.

  “That is surely the drake,” he thought, “for I can see a curl and something red;” and the next minute “bang!” went the gun, and Johnny Sprigg gave a great yell and jumped out of the bushes. As for his beautiful wig, it was shot right off his head, and fell into the water of the brook a good ten yards away!

  “What are you trying to do?” he cried, shaking his fist at the little man.

  “Why, I was only shooting at the drake,” replied Jimson; “and I hit it, too, for there it is in the water.

  “That ‘s my wig, sir!” said Johnny Sprigg, “and you shall pay for it, or I ‘ll have the law on you. Are you the man who shot the duck here yesterday morning?”

  “I am, sir,” answered the little man, proud that he had shot something besides a wig.

  “Well, you shall pay for that also,” said Mr. Sprigg; “for it belonged to me, and I ‘ll have the money or I ‘ll put you in jail!”

  The little man did not want to go to jail, so with a heavy heart he paid for the wig and the duck, and then took his way sorrowfully homeward.

  He did not tell Joan of his meeting with Mr. Sprigg; he only said he could not find a drake. But she knew all about it when the paper came out, for this is what it said on the front page:

  There was a little man and he had a little gun,

  And the bullets were made of lead, lead, lead.

  He shot Johnny Sprigg through the middle of his wig,

  And knocked it right off from his head, head, head.

  The little man was so angry at this, and at the laughter of all the men he met, that he traded his gun off for a lawn-mower, and resolved never to go hunting again.

  He had the little duck he had shot made into a pie, and he and Joan ate it; but he did not enjoy it very much.

  “This duck cost me twelve dollars,” he said to his loving wife, “for that is the sum Johnny Sprigg made me pay; and it ‘s a very high price for one little duck — do n’t you think so, Joan?”

  Hickory, Dickory, Dock

  Hickory, Dickory, Dock!

  The mouse ran up the clock.

  The clock struck one,

  The mouse ran down,

  Hickory, Dickory, Dock!

  Within the hollow wall of an old brick mansion, away up near the roof, there lived a family of mice. It was a snug little home, pleasant and quiet, and as dark as any mouse could desire. Mamma Mouse liked it because, as she said, the draught that came through the rafters made it cool in summer, and they were near enough to the chimney to keep warm in wintertime.

  Besides the Mamma Mouse there were three children, named Hickory and Dickory and Dock. There had once been a Papa Mouse as well; but while he was hunting for food one night he saw a nice piece of cheese in a wire box, and attempted to get it. The minute he stuck his head into the box, however, it closed with a snap that nearly cut his head off; and when Mamma Mouse came down to look for him he was quite dead.

  Mamma Mouse had to bear her bitter sorrow all alone, for the children were too young at that time to appreciate their loss. She felt that people were cruel to kill a poor mouse for wishing to get food for himself and his family. There is nothing else for a mouse to do but take what he can find, for mice can not earn money, as people do, and they must live in some way.

  But Mamma Mouse was a brave mouse, and knew that it was now her duty to find food for her little ones; so she dried her eyes and went bravely to work gnawing through the baseboard that separated the pantry from the wall. It took her some time to do this, for she could only work at night. Mice like to sleep during the day and work at night, when there are no people around to interrupt them, and even the cat is fast asleep. Some mice run about in the daytime, but they are not very wise mice who do this.

  At last Mamma Mouse gnawed a hole through the baseboard large enough for her to get through into the pantry, and then her disappointment was great to find the bread jar covered over with a tin pan.

  “How thoughtless people are to put things where a hungry mouse cannot get at them,” said Mamma Mouse to herself, with a sigh. But just then she espied a barrel of flour standing upon the floor; and that gave her new courage, for she knew she could easily gnaw through that, and the flour would do to eat just as well as the bread.

  It was now nearly daylight, so she decided to leave the attack upon the flour barrel until the next night; and gathering up for the children a few crumbs that were scattered about, she ran back into the wall and scrambled up to her nest.

  Hickory and Dickory and Dock were very glad to get the crumbs, for they were hungry; and when they had breakfasted they all curled up alongside their mother and slept soundly throughout the day.

  “Be good children,” said Mamma Mouse the next evening, as she prepared for her journey to the pantry, “and do n’t stir out of your nest till I come back. I am in hopes that after tonight we shall not be hungry for a long time, as I shall gnaw a hole at the back of the flour barrel, where it will not be discovered.”

  She kissed each one of them good-bye and ran down the wall on her errand.

  When they were left alone Hickory wanted to go to sleep again, but little Dock was wide awake, and tumbled around so in the nest that his brothers were unable to sleep.

  “I wish I could go with mother some night,” said Dock, “it ‘s no fun to stay here all the time.”

  “She will take us when we are big enough,” replied Dickory.

  “We are big enough now,” declared Dock, “and if I knew my way I would go out into the world and see what it looks like.”

  “I know a way out,” said Hickory, “but mamma wouldn ‘t like it if we should go without her permission.”

  “She need n’t know anything about it,” declared the naughty Dock, “for she will be busy at the flour-barrel all the night. Take us out for a little walk, Hick, if you know the way.”

  “Yes, do,” urged Dickory.

  “Well,” said Hickory, “I ‘d like a little stroll myself; so if you ‘ll promise to be very careful, and not get into any mischief, I ‘ll take you through the hole that I have discovered.”

  So the three little mice started off, with Hickory showing the way, and soon came to a crack in the wall. Hickory stuck his head through, and finding everything quiet, for the family of people that lived in the house were fast asleep, he squeezed through the crack, followed by his two brothers. Their little hearts beat very fast, for they knew if they were discovered they would have to run for their lives; but the house was so still they gained courage, and crept along over a thick carpet until they came to a stairway.

  “What shall we do now?” whispered Hickory to his brothers.

  “Let ‘s go down,” replied Dock.

  So, very carefully, they descended the stairs and reached the hallway of the house, and here they were much surprised by all they saw.

  There was a big rack for hats and coats, and an umbrella stand, and two quaintly carved chairs, and, most wonderful of all, a tall clock that stood upon the floor and ticked out the minutes in a grave and solemn voice.

  When the little mice first heard the ticking of the clock they were inclined to be frightened, and huddled close together upon the bottom stair.

  “What is it?” asked Dickory, in an awed whisper. “I do n’t know,” replied Hickory, who was himself rather afraid.

  “Is it alive?” asked Dock.

  “I do n’t know,” again answered Hickory.

  Then, seeing that the clock paid no attention to them, but kept ticking steadily away and seemed to mind its own business, they plucked up courage and began running about.

  Presently Dickory uttered a delighted squeal that brought his brothers to his side. There in a corner lay nearly the half of a bun which little May had dropped when nurse carried her upstairs to bed. It was a great
discovery for the three mice, and they ate heartily until the last crumb had disappeared.

  “This is better than a cupboard or a pantry,” said Dock, when they had finished their supper, “and I should n’t be surprised if there were plenty more good things around if we only hunt for them.”

  But they could find nothing more, for all the doors leading into the hall were closed, and at last Dock came to the clock and looked at it curiously.

  “It does n’t seem to be alive,” he thought, “although it does make so much noise. I ‘m going behind it to see what I can find.”

  He found nothing except a hole that led to inside of the clock, and into this he stuck his head. He could hear the ticking plainer than ever now, but looking way up to the top of the clock he saw something shining brightly, and thought it must good to eat if he could only get at it. Without saying anything to his brothers, Dock ran up the sides of the clock until he came to the works, and he was just about to nibble at a glistening wheel, to see what it tasted like, when suddenly “Bang!” went the clock.

  It was one o’clock, and the clock had only struck the hour; but the great gong was just beside Dock’s ear and the noise nearly deafened the poor little mouse. He gave a scream of terror and ran down the clock as fast as he could go. When he reached the hall he heard his brothers scampering up the stairs, and after them he ran with all his might.

  It was only when they were safe in their nest again that they stopped to breathe, and their little hearts beat fast for an hour afterward, so great had been their terror.

  When Mamma Mouse came back in the morning, bringing a quantity of nice flour with her for breakfast, they told her of their adventure. She thought they had been punished enough already for their disobedience, so she did not scold them, but only said,

  “You see, my dears, your mother knew best when she told you not to stir from the nest. Children sometimes think they know more than their parents, but this adventure should teach you always to obey your mother. The next time you run away you may fare worse than you did last night; remember your poor father’s fate.”

  But Hickory and Dickory and Dock did not run away again.

  Little Bo-Peep

  On the beautiful, undulating hills of Sussex feed many flocks of sheep, which are tended by many shepherds and shepherdesses, and one of these flocks used to be cared for by a poor woman who supported herself and her little girl by this means.

  They lived in a small cottage nestled at the foot of one of the hills, and each morning the mother took her crook and started out with her sheep, that they might feed upon the tender, juicy grasses with which the hills abounded. The little girl usually accompanied her mother and sat by her side upon the grassy mounds and watched her care for the ewes and lambs, so that in time she herself grew to be a very proficient shepherdess.

  So when the mother became too old and feeble to leave her cottage, Little Bo-Peep (as she was called) decided that she was fully able to manage the flocks herself. She was a little mite of a child, with flowing nut-brown locks and big gray eyes that charmed all who gazed into their innocent depths. She wore a light gray frock, fastened about the waist with a pretty pink sash, and there were white ruffles around her neck and pink ribbons in her hair.

  All the shepherds and shepherdesses upon the hills, both young and old, soon came to know Little Bo-Peep very well indeed, and there were many willing hands to aid her if (which was not often) she needed their assistance.

  Bo-Peep usually took her sheep to the side of a high hill above the cottage, and allowed them to eat the rich grass while she herself sat upon a mound and, laying aside her crook and her broad straw hat with its pink ribbons, devoted her time to sewing and mending stockings for her aged mother.

  One day, while thus occupied, she heard a voice beside her say:

  “Good morning, Little Bo-Peep!” and looking up the girl saw a woman standing near her and leaning upon a short stick. She was bent nearly double by weight of many years, her hair was white as snow and her eyes as black as coals. Deep wrinkles seamed her face and hands, while her nose and chin were so pointed that they nearly met. She was not pleasant to look upon, but Bo-Peep had learned to be polite to the aged, so she answered, sweetly,

  “Good morning, mother. Can I do anything for you?”

  “No, dearie,” returned the woman, in a cracked voice, “but I will sit by your side and rest for a time.”

  The girl made room on the mound beside her, and the stranger sat down and watched in silence the busy fingers sew up the seams of the new frock she was making.

  By and by the woman asked,

  “Why do you come out here to sew?”

  “Because I am a shepherdess,” replied the girl.

  “But where is your crook?”

  “On the grass beside me.”

  “And where are your sheep?”

  Bo-Peep looked up and could not see them.

  “They must have strayed over the top of the hill,” she said, “and I will go and seek them.”

  “Do not be in a hurry,” croaked the old woman; “they will return presently without your troubling to find them.”

  “Do you think so?” asked Bo-Peep.

  “Of course; do not the sheep know you?”

  “Oh, yes; they know me every one.”

  “And do not you know the sheep?”

  “I can call every one by name,” said Bo-Peep, confidently; “for though I am so young a shepherdess I am fond of my sheep and know all about them.”

  The old woman chuckled softly, as if the answer amused her, and replied,

  “No one knows all about anything, my dear.”

  “But I know all about my sheep,” protested Little Bo-Peep.

  “Do you, indeed? Then you are wiser that most people. And if you know all about them, you also know they will come home of their own accord, and I have no doubt they will all be wagging their tails behind them, as usual.”

  “Oh,” said Little Bo-Peep, in surprise, “do they wag their tails? I never noticed that!”

  “Indeed!” exclaimed the old woman, “then you are not very observing for one who knows all about sheep. Perhaps you have never noticed their tails at all.”

  “No,” answered Bo-Peep, thoughtfully, “I do n’t know that I ever have.”

  The woman laughed so hard at this reply that she began to cough, and this made the girl remember that her flock had strayed away.

  “I really must go and find my sheep,” she said, rising to her feet, “and then I shall be sure to notice their tails, and see if they wag them.”

  “Sit still, my child,” said the old woman, “I am going over the hill-top myself, and I will send the sheep back to you.”

  So she got upon her feet and began climbing the hill, and the girl heard her saying, as she walked away,

  ”Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,

  And does n’t know where to find ‘em.

  But leave ‘em alone, and they ‘ll come home,

  All wagging their tails behind ‘em.”

  Little Bo-Peep sat still and watched the old woman toil slowly up the hill-side and disappear over the top. By and by she thought, “very soon I shall see the sheep coming back;” but time passed away and still the errant flock failed to make its appearance.

  Soon the head of the little shepherdess began to nod, and presently, still thinking of her sheep,

  Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,

  And dreamt she heard them bleating;

  But when she awoke she found it a joke,

  For still they were a-fleeting.

  The girl now became quite anxious, and wondered why the old woman had not driven her flock over the hill. But as it was now time for luncheon she opened her little basket and ate of the bread and cheese and cookies she had brought with her. After she had finished her meal and taken a drink of cool water from a spring near by, she decided she would not wait any longer.

  So up she took her little crook,

  Determined f
or to find them,

  and began climbing the hill.

  When she got to the top there was never a sight of sheep about — only a green valley and another hill beyond.

  Now really alarmed for the safety of her charge, Bo-Peep hurried into the valley and up the farther hill-side. Panting and tired she reached the summit, and, pausing breathlessly, gazed below her.

  Quietly feeding upon the rich grass was her truant flock, looking as peaceful and innocent as if it had never strayed away from its gentle shepherdess.

  Bo-Peep uttered a cry of joy and hurried toward them; but when she came near she stopped in amazement and held up her little hands with a pretty expression of dismay. She had

  Found them, indeed, but it made her heart bleed,

  For they ‘d left their tails behind them!

  Nothing was left to each sheep but a wee little stump where a tail should be, and Little Bo-Peep was so heart-broken that she sat down beside them and sobbed bitterly.

  But after awhile the tiny maid realized that all her tears would not bring back the tails to her lambkins; so she plucked up courage and dried her eyes and arose from the ground just as the old woman hobbled up to her.

  “So you have found your sheep, dearie,” she said, in her cracked voice.

  “Yes,” replied Little Bo-Peep, with difficulty repressing a sob; “but look, mother! They ‘ve all left their tails behind them!”

  “Why, so they have!” exclaimed the old woman; and then she began to laugh as if something pleased her.

  “What do you suppose has become of their tails?” asked the girl.

  “Oh, some one has probably cut them off. They make nice tippets in winter-time, you know;” and then she patted the child upon her head and walked away down the valley.

  Bo-Peep was much grieved over the loss that had befallen her dear sheep, and so, driving them before her, she wandered around to see if by any chance she could find the lost tails.

  But soon the sun began to sink over the hill-tops, and she knew she must take her sheep home before night overtook them.

  She did not tell her mother of her misfortune, for she feared the old shepherdess would scold her, and Bo-Peep had fully decided to seek for the tails and find them before she related the story of their loss to anyone.