“Oh, yes, you will!” exclaimed Johnnie. “See, grandpa, here are some fine acorns. Are your teeth strong enough to crack them?” and he ran down to the ground, got some nice acorns, and brought them to his grandpa.
“Oh, yes, my teeth are all right,” answered the old gentleman squirrel, “and I can see good. In fact, I don't think I am so very old. If it wasn't for my white tail and the pain in my back I'd seem quite young, I think.”
Then they walked on a little farther, but Grandpa Lightfoot kept going slower and slower, until finally he said:
“I guess you boys had better run along without me. Grandpa is getting too tired. You run along home, and tell your mamma I'm much obliged for that cake. I'll just take a little nap in this tree, and then I'll go home too. Yep, grandpa is getting old,” and the poor old squirrel gave a sigh, for you know it isn't nice to think you're growing old; that is, too old. Of course, I don't count nine or ten or even eleven or twelve or thirteen. But after that, well, it's getting on, let me tell you.
Well, Billie and Johnnie felt pretty badly when they saw how feeble their grandpa was. They started home, leaving him taking his nap, when all at once Billie said:
“Johnnie, if we could only find a nice, good, kind fairy, I think she would make grandpa feel better.”
“How?” asked Johnnie.
“Well, she would take that pain out of his back, and make him younger.”
“Fine!” cried Johnnie. “If we only could. Let's look around.”
So they looked carefully around, but they couldn't see any fairies. All the fairies seemed to be away that day. At last Billie saw a lovely purple flower, and he was going to pick it to take home to his mamma, when Johnnie called out:
“Oh, it's too pretty to pick. Leave it in the woods, where it's cool and moist. It will last longer.”
“All right,” said his brother, “I will.”
And the next minute if they didn't hear a voice coming out of that flower, saying: “Thank you kindly, little boy, Now my heart is filled with joy. Since you've been so good to me, I will give you wishes three.”
“Oh, it's a fairy! It's a fairy!” cried Billie, and, sure enough, if a lovely little purple fairy lady didn't step down out of that flower.
“What are your three wishes, boys?” she asked, smiling at them.
“Let's wish for an automobile!” whispered Johnnie to his brother.
“No,” answered Billie. “I have an idea. Can you make old folks think they're young?” he inquired of the purple lady.
“Of course I can!” cried the fairy. “It's the easiest thing in the world. All I have to do is to make them happy and contented, and they'll be as young as ever. Of course, I have to say the magical word, too.”
So Billie and Johnnie told the fairy about their grandpa, and how he was growing old.
“Take me to him at once,” she commanded, and they led her to where the old gentleman squirrel was asleep in the tree, and he was snoring the least little bit.
“Grandpa, here is a fairy come to make you feel young,” said Billie.
“Hey? What's that? A fairy to make me young? Stuff and nonsensicalness!” cried the old squirrel. “Fairies are all bosh! I think you boys have been dreaming of fairies lately,” and he sat up, and rubbed his eyes and put on his spectacles, which had fallen off. “Fairies are all bosh!” he repeated.
“Oh, indeed they're not,” said the purple fairy with a laugh. “Just you wait and see.” So she pronounced the magical word, “Piddlepaddlepodlepum!” (only you mustn't say it, you know) and then she waved her magic wand three times.
Then a wonderful thing happened. Grandpa's bushy tail, that had turned white because he was so old, got a nice silver-gray in an instant, and the pain in his back went right away. Then he straightened up, and he cried:
“Well, well, I certainly do feel better! I feel ever so much younger again. I guess I'm wrong about fairies being bosh. I'm ever so much obliged to you, my dear little lady. I surely do feel fine! Thank you so much!”
“Oh, that's all right,” spoke the fairy with a laugh that showed her little white teeth, smaller than Jennie Chipmunk's, “I'm glad you feel better. Now I must go.” So she turned into a humming-bird and flew away, and Johnnie and Billie Bushytail went to their home, and Grandpa frisked along to his home, as lively as a young puppy dog. Of course he wasn't really any younger, but he felt so, and that made the difference. Now to-morrow night, if no one tickles me with a feather when I'm asleep, I'm going to tell you something wonderful about Grandma Lightfoot.
XXXI
GRANDMA AND THE JUMPING FAIRY
GRANDMA LIGHTFOOT was quite surprised when grandpa came home that afternoon, walking spryly along and even taking a jump now and then.
“Why, what in the world is the matter with you?” she asked, looking at him over the tops of her spectacles.
“Nothing, except that I feel fine,” answered the old gentleman squirrel, with a laugh, and, just to prove it, he turned a somersault, a thing he had not done in years and years.
“And look at your tail!” cried grandma; “it's silver-gray, just as when you used to be a young fellow. Come, Jennie Chipmunk, look here! Would you ever believe it?”
“No,” said Jennie Chipmunk, “I never would.”
“My tail isn't white any more,” said grandpa, “and I haven't any pain in my back. Whoop!” and he hollered real loudly, he felt so fine.
“Who did it?” asked grandma. “Who changed your tail?”
“A purple fairy,” answered her husband.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” cried grandma, taking off her glasses. “Why, the very idonical idea! What do you mean?”
“That's right, it was a purple fairy,” went on Grandpa Lightfoot. “Billie and Johnnie found her and brought her to me when I was asleep.”
“Oh, nut-crackers!” exclaimed grandma, who was very odd at times. “You dreamed it, that's all. You fell asleep in the woods, and dreamed it.”
“No, I didn't,” declared grandpa. “I feel ever so much younger,” and he danced a little jig and sung this little verse, which you may sing if you wish, as long as the baby isn't asleep:
“Oh, hi-diddle-dum-diddle-di-de-doo,
Sing potatoes, tomatoes, too.
I feel as fine as a fiddle-de-dee.
Won't you come and dance with me?”
“No,” said grandma, very decidedly. “I won't dance. I'm too old, and besides, supper is ready. Now, don't tell me about those purple fairies again, for I simply won't believe it!” Oh, wasn't she the odd old lady, though, but she was as nice as could be, if you only knew her.
“I wish I could get the purple fairy to make your tail silver-gray again,” spoke grandpa, as he was eating his supper.
“Humph! I'd like to see a fairy!” cried grandma. “When I was a girl folks used to say there were such things. But I never saw any, and, what's more, I never will.”
Well, the next day Billie and Johnnie Bushytail came to see how their grandma and grandpa were getting on, and they told about the purple fairy, but still grandma didn't seem to think such a thing could really happen. But now wait, something strange is going to take place in about a minute.
A few days after this, oh, maybe three or so--yes, I guess it was about three days-- Jennie Chipmunk was taken sick. She couldn't do the work, and Grandma Lightfoot was very busy, and they had company, too, Mr. and Mrs. Wibblewobble, the ducks. Well, there was quite a lot to do, dusting and sweeping and cooking and making the beds.
Well, after the company had gone, Grandma Lightfoot tried to do the work, but she found it quite a task. She was rather old, you know, and not as spry as she once was. Grandpa had to go to the post-office, or he would have helped her. So poor grandma, after she had washed the dishes, had to sit down to rest, she was so tired, and there was the sweeping to do yet, and the dusting, and the beds to make, and, oh, I don't know what all!
“I never can do it,” thought grandma. “I shall have to go out and hire some one.
”
Just then there was a little noise in one corner of the room, and, bless me, if a little creature didn't jump right up and down in front of grandma's chair, and exclaim:
“Where's the broom? Where's the dust- rag? Quick! Quick! Quick!”
“Why?” asked grandma, “who are you?”
“I am the jumping fairy,” answered the little creature. “I am always on the jump,” and she jumped some more. “I must jump right at this work,” she went on. “Where is the broom? Where is the dust-rag? Quick! Quick! Quick!”
Then, before grandma could answer, if the jumping fairy hadn't jumped into a corner and got the broom, and then she began jumping all around the room, sweeping as fast as the wind blows. Then she jumped to another corner, and got the rag, and began dusting, jumping from chair to chair, and from the piano stool to the table, and back again, dusting, dusting, dusting, all the while.
“Now the beds!” cried the fairy, and she jumped up and down in the middle of each bed to make it soft. “Now the windows!” the fairy cried, and she jumped up and down on the panes of glass, just as you slide on the ice, making the windows shine like silver. And in less than no time, if that house wasn't in perfect order!
All this while grandma looked on, too surprised to speak. Then, when everything was done, the fairy jumped up and down in front of the old lady squirrel three times, and said: “Wishka, Washka, Wushka!” which is magical, you know, and then she added: “Look at your tail!” and believe me, if grandma's tail hadn't turned silver-gray, just like grandpa's, and she felt ever so much better. Then the fairy jumped out of the window and disappeared, after saying good-bye.
Well, when Grandpa Lightfoot came in, and saw how nice the house was, and he noticed that his wife wasn't tired, he asked:
“How did it all happen, my dear?”
“Oh,” she answered, “the jumping fairy did it.”
“The jumping fairy? Why, I thought you didn't believe in fairies.”
“Oh, I guess I do a little bit,” grandma admitted. “My, but I never saw such quick work, though, and I feel quite rested.”
Then grandpa was real glad, and a few days after that Jennie Chipmunk got better, and the squirrels, all of them, including Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, and Sister Sallie, lived happily ever after.
Now we have come to the end of the book, children, but in case you would like to hear some more stories, I am going to put them in another volume. They will be about some nice ducks, Lulu, Alice and Jimmie Wibblewobble, and their friends, including Aunt Lettie, the old lady goat, Nero, the dog, and Grandfather Goosey Gander. That book will be named, “Bedtime Stories: Lulu, Alice and Jimmie Wibblewobble,” which will tell all about the Ducks' children. So, now I'll say goodnight for a little while.
THE END.
Johnnie and Billie Bushytail Page 9