Andiron Tales Read online

  CHAPTER IX.

  On the Oscycle--A Narrow Escape.

  "Well," said the Polar Bear, as the Oscycle started on its downwardcourse: "I'm mighty glad we're off, and away from those other creatures onthat Trolley. They were a dishonest lot."

  "So am I," came a voice from behind him, that made the Bear jumpnervously, for it was none other than the Flamingo.

  "So are the rest of us," added a lot of voices in chorus, and Tom, turningto see who beside himself and his companions had got aboard, was hugelyamused to see the Kangaroo, the Monkey, the Hippopotamus and all the othercreatures from the Trolley, save only the conductor and motorman, seatedthere behind, as happy as you please.

  "It doesn't pay to associate with conductors," said the Flamingo. "Theydon't think of anything but money all the time, and they're awfully rudeabout it sometimes. Why, I knew a conductor once who refused to change a$100 bill for me."

  "I don't believe you ever had a $100 bill," growled the Hippopotamus.

  "I've got one I wouldn't sell for $1,000," said the Flamingo. "It's theone I eat with," he added.

  "That's not legal tender," said the Polar Bear.

  "You couldn't change it if it was," sneered the Flamingo.

  On the Oscycle.]

  "I could change it in a minute if I wanted to," said the Polar Bear, witha chuckle.

  "What with, cash?" demanded the Flamingo, scornfully.

  "No--with one whack of my paw," said the Bear, shaking his fist menacinglyat the Flamingo. "I could change your whole face, for that matter," headded, with a frown.

  "I was only fooling, Poley, old man," said the Flamingo, a trifle worried."Of course you could, but you wouldn't, would you?"

  "Not unless I had to," replied the Bear, "but, gee, aren't we justwhizzing along! Are you cold, Tom?"

  "Yes," said Tom, with a shiver, "just a little."

  "Well, come sit next to me and I'll let you use my furs. I don't need 'emmyself. I'm a pretty warm Bear, considering where I come from."

  "Sit close, gentlemen," cried the man in charge of the Oscycle. "We'recoming to a thank-you-marm. Look out! Look out! Hang together. By jove,there goes the Monkey."

  And sure enough, off the Monkey flew as the Oscycle crossed the hump at anenormous rate of speed.

  "Hi, there, you fellows," the Monkey shrieked, as he landed in the softsnow, "wait a minute. Hi, you! Stop! Wait for me!"

  "Can't do it," roared the man in charge. "Can't stop--going too fast."

  "But what am I going to doo-oo-oo?" shrieked the Monkey excitedly.

  "Get inside of a snowball and roll down. We'll catch you on the way back,"the Kangaroo yelled, and as they now passed out of hearing of themonkey's voice no one knew how the little creature took the suggestion.

  "I'm glad he's gone," said the Hippopotamus. "He was a nuisance--and Itell you I had a narrow escape. He had his tail wound around my neck aminute before. He might have yanked me off with him."

  "Yanked you?" said the Old Gentleman from Saturn, gazing contemptuously atthe Hippopotamus. "Bosh! The idea of a seven-pound monkey yanking athree-ton Hippopotamus!"

  "What?" roared the man in charge. "A what how much which?"

  "Three-ton," said the Old Gentleman from Saturn. "That's what he weighs. Iknow because he stepped on my toe getting off the Trolley."

  "But it's against the law!" cried the Man in Charge. "We're not allowed tocarry more than 1,000 pounds on these Machines."

  "Humph!" laughed the Kangaroo. "It's very evident, Hippy, that you'll haveto go way back and lose some weight."

  "I can't help weighing three tons," said the Hippopotamus. "I'm built thatway."

  "That's all right," said the Man in Charge, wringing his hands in despair;"but you'll have to get off. If you don't we'll go over the edge." Hisvoice rose to a shriek.

  Tom's heart sank and he half rose up.

  "Sit still," said the two Andirons, grabbing him by the arms. "We're infor it. We've got to take what comes."

  "Right you are," said the Bellows. "Don't you bother, Tom. We'll come outall right in the end."

  "MY OWN PRIVATE ICEBERG."]

  "But what's the trouble, Mr. Man?" asked the Poker. "What's the Hippo'sweight got to do with our going over the edge?"

  "Why, can't you see?" explained the Man in Charge. "His 6,000 poundspushing the machine along from behind there gives us just so much extraspeed, and all the brakes in the world won't stop us now we've got goingunless he gets off."

  The announcement caused an immediate panic, and the Polar Bear began tocry like a baby.

  "Oh, why did I ever come?" he moaned as the tears trickled down his noseand froze into a great icicle at the end of it. "When I might have stayedhome riding around on my own private iceberg?"

  "Stop your whimpering," said the Kangaroo. "Brace up and be a man."

  "I don't want to be a man," blubbered the bear, "I'm satisfied to be apoor, miserable little Polar Bear."

  "You've got to jump, Hippy," said the Flamingo. "That's all there is aboutit."

  "Sir," replied the Hippopotamus solemnly, "I shall not jump. It would illcomport with my dignity for me to try to jump as if I were merely aKangaroo. No sir. Here I sit, firm as a rock. You might as well ask anelephant to dance a jig."

  "We'll put you off if you don't get off of your own accord," roared thePolar Bear, bracing up, and removing the icicle from his nose he shook itangrily at the Hippopotamus.

  "All right," said the Hippopotamus with a pleasant smile "All right. Hasany gentleman brought a derrick along with him to assist in the operation?You don't happen to have a freight elevator in your pocket, do you, Mr.Kangaroo?"

  "Pry him off, Poker," cried the Kangaroo.

  "I would if I could," answered the Poker, mournfully. "But I'm not acrowbar."

  "Well, then, all together here," shouted the Man from Saturn. "Line up andwe'll shove him off."

  There was a frantic rush at the stolid Hippopotamus in response to thissuggestion, but they might as well have tried to batter down the rock ofGibraltar by hurling feathers against it, so firmly fixed in his seat wasthis passenger of outrageous weight.

  "Come again, gentlemen," said the Hippopotamus suavely. "There's nothingbetter for the complexion than a good rub, and I assure you you haveplaced me under an obligation to you."

  "Prod him with the icicle," said the Kangaroo to the Polar Bear.

  "I am not to be moved by tears, even if they are frozen and sharpened to apoint," laughed the Hippopotamus, as the Polar Bear did as he was told,smashing the icicle without so much as denting the Hippo's flesh.

  "Well, if you won't jump, I will," said the Man from Saturn angrily. "IfI'm hurt I'll take it out of your hide when we meet again."

  "All right," retorted the Hippopotamus. "You'll have to get a steam drilland blast it out. By-by."

  The man from Saturn jumped and landed head first in the snow, but whetherhe was hurt or not the party never knew, for their speed was now soterrific that he had barely landed before they whizzed past the bottom ofthe hill and up the other incline. It became clear, too, as they sped onthat at such a fearful rate of progress nothing could now keep the Oscyclefrom going over the edge, and the others began to lay plans for safety.

  THE MAN FROM SATURN JUMPED.]

  "I'm going to jump for a passing trolley cloud the minute we get to theedge," said the Kangaroo.

  "I don't know what I shall do," sobbed the Polar Bear. "If I land on myfeet I'll be all right, for they're big and soft, like sofa cushions, butif I land on my head--"

  "That's softer yet, Poley," laughed the Flamingo, who appeared to be lessconcerned than anybody. "If you land on your head it will be just as ifyou fell into a great bowl of oatmeal, so you're all right."

  "I'm not afraid for myself," said the Poker. "I can drop any distancewithout serious injury, being made of iron, and my friends, the Andirons,are equally fortunate. The Bellows, too, is comparatively safe. The worstthat can happen to him is to have the wind knocked out of hi
m. But--"

  "It's Tom we're bothered about," said the Righthandiron, with an anxiousglance at Lefty. "You see, we invited him to come off here with us, and--"

  "Who is he, anyhow?" demanded the Flamingo, glancing at Tom in such a waythat the youngster began to feel very uncomfortable.

  "I'm a Dormouse," said Tom, remembering the agreement.

  "Not for this occasion," put in the Poker. "This time you're a boy, andwe've got to save you somehow or other and we'll do it, Tom, so don't beafraid."

  "What kind of boy is he?" demanded the Flamingo. "One of thesebean-snapping boys that go around shooting robins and hooking birds' eggswhen they haven't anything else to do?"

  "Not a bit of it," said Righty. "He never snapped a bean at a bird in allhis life."

  "Humph!" said the Flamingo. "I suppose he's been too busy pulling feathersout of peacocks' tails to decorate his room with to be bothering withrobins and eggs."

  "Never did such a thing in all my born days," retorted Tom indignantly.

  "Probably not," sneered the Flamingo. "And why? Because you were so wellsatisfied keeping a canary locked up in a cage for your own pleasure thatyou hadn't any time to chase peacocks."

  "I've lived in the family forty years," said the Righthandiron, "and to myknowledge there was never a caged bird in the house."

  "Really?" said the Flamingo, looking at Tom with interest. "Rather a newkind of boy this. Very few boys have a good record where birds areconcerned."

  "Tom's no enemy to birds," observed the Bellows. "I know that because I'vebeen in his family longer than he has, and I've watched him."

  "Well," said the Flamingo, "if that's the case, maybe I can help him. Onegood turn deserves another. If he is good to birds I may be able at thistime to do good to him. This trouble ahead of us doesn't bother me,because I have wings and can fly--" Here the Flamingo flapped his wingsproudly--"and I could take Tom on my back and fly anywhere with him, for Iam an extremely powerful bird. But I want to know one more thing about himbefore I undertake to save him. We birds must stand together, you know,and I'm not going to befriend a foe to my kind under any circumstances.Thomas!"

  In a moment he was sitting astride the great bird's neck.]

  "Yes, sir," replied Tom, all of a tremble, for he hadn't the slightestidea what was coming, and as a truthful boy he knew that whatever theconsequences to himself might be he must give the correct answer.

  "Do you have Sunday breakfast at home?" asked the Flamingo.

  "Yes, sir," Tom replied respectfully.

  "You have coffee and hominy and toast and fried potatoes and all that?"queried the bird.

  "Yes, sir," Tom answered, turning very pale, however, for he was in greatdread of what he now saw was likely to come next.

  "And--ah--fruit?" said the Flamingo.

  "Oh, yes, plenty of fruit," replied Tom very nervously.

  "And now, sir," said the Flamingo, severely, and ruffling his featherslike an angry turkey, "now for the main point. Thomas--and, mind you Iwant a truthful answer. Did you ever eat a broiled--Flamingo for yourSunday morning breakfast?"

  Tom breathed a sigh of relief as the Flamingo blurted out the last part ofhis question.

  "No, sir. Never!" he replied.

  "Then hurry and climb up on my shoulders here," the Flamingo cried."You're a boy after my own heart. I believe you'd be kind to a stuffedparrot. But hurry--there's the edge right ahead of us. Jump--"

  Tom jumped and in a moment was sitting astride of the great bird's neck.In his right hand he grasped the claw of Righty, in his left that ofLefty, while these two clutched tightly hold of the Bellows and the Pokerrespectively. A moment later the Oscycle reached the edge and dashedwildly over it, the Kangaroo following out his plan of jumping higherstill and fortunately for himself catching a passing trolley cloud bywhich he was borne back to the starting point again.

  As for the Polar Bear and the Hippopotamus, they plunged out into space,while the group comprising our little party from home and the Flamingosoared gracefully back to earth again, where the generous-hearted birddeposited them safely on top of the most convenient Alp.

  "Thanks very much," said Tom, as he clambered down from the bird's neckand stood upon solid ground again.

  "Don't mention it," said the Flamingo. "It's a pleasure to serve abird-defender and his friends," and with this he soared away.

  "I'm glad he didn't ask me if I ever ate broiled chicken for Sundaybreakfast," said Tom.

  "Why?" asked the Poker. "Do you?"

  "Do I?" cried Tom. "Well, I guess. I don't do anything else."

  CHAPTER X.

  Home Again

  "And now," said the Lefthandiron as the Flamingo flew off and left them tothemselves, "it strikes me that it is time we set about having somesupper. I'm getting hungry, what with the excitement of that ride, and thefact I haven't eaten anything but a bowlful of kindling wood sinceyesterday morning."

  "I'm with you there," said Tom. "I've been hungry ever since we startedand that snow on the moon whetted my appetite."

  "Never knew a boy who wasn't hungry on all occasions," puffed the Bellows."Fact is, a boy wouldn't be a real boy unless he was hungry. Did you everknow a boy that would confess he'd had enough to eat, Pokey?"

  "Once," said Poker, "I wrote a poem about him, but I never could get itpublished. Want to hear it?"

  "Very much," said Tom.

  "Well, here goes," said the Poker anxiously, and he recited the followinglines:

  THE WONDROUS STRIKE OF SAMMY DIKE.

  Young Sammy Dike was a likely boy Who lived somewhere in Illinois, His father was a blacksmith, and His Ma made pies for all the land. The pies were all so very fine That folks who sought them stood in line Before the shop of Dike & Co., 'Mid passing rain, in drifting snow, For fear they'd lose the tasty prize Of "Dike's new patent home-made pies." One day, alas, poor Mrs. Dike, Who with her pies had made the strike, By overwork fell very ill, And all her orders could not fill. So ill was she she could not bake One-half the pastry folks would take; And so her loving husband said He'd take her place and cook, instead Of making horse-shoes. Kindly Joe, To help his wife in time of woe! He worked by night, he worked by day-- Yet worked, alas, in his own way And made such pies, I've understood, As but a simple blacksmith could. He made them hard as iron bars; He made them tough as trolley cars. He seemed to think a pie's estate Was to be used as armor plate. And not a pie would he let go That had not stood the sledge's blow Upon the anvil in his sanctum, Whence naught went out until he'd spanked 'em. Result? With many alas and 'lack The pies Joe made they all came back. From folks who claimed they could not go The latest pies of Dike & Co. And here it was that Sammy came To help his parents in the game. "Can't eat 'em?" cried indignant Joe. "Can't eat 'em? Well, I want to know! Here, Sammy, show these people here How most unjust their plaint, my dear. Come, lad, and eat the luscious pies That I have made and they despise." Poor loyal Sammy then began Upon those stodgy pies--the plan Was very pleasing in his eyes, For Sammy loved his mother's pies. He nibbled one, he bit another, And then began to think of mother. He chewed and gnawed, he munched and bit, But no--he could not swallow it; And then, poor child, it was so tough He had to say he'd had enough, Though never in the world before Was lad who had not wanted more. And what became of Sammy's Ma? And what became of Sammy's Pa? Their profits gone, how could they eke A living good from week to week? They took the recipe for pies That mother made and--Oh, so wise-- Let Father make them in his way In form elliptical, they say. And when the football season came Won fortune great, and wondrous fame, Beyond the wildest hope of dreams, By selling these to football teams. And those by whom this game is played Called them the finest ever made. "The Shuregood football" made of mince, Has never quite been equaled since; And few who kick them with their feet, K
now they're the pies Sam couldn't eat-- The only pies upon this orb A healthy boy could not absorb.

  "UPON THE ANVIL IN HIS SANCTUM."]

  "Great poem that, eh?" said the Bellows, poking Tom in the ribs, andgrinning broadly.

  "Splendid," said Tom. "New use for pies, that."

  "It's beautifully long," said Lefty.

  "But why couldn't it be published?" asked Righty. "Wasn't it long enough?"

  "The editor said it wasn't true," sighed the Poker. "He had three boys ofhis own, you know, and he said there never was a boy who couldn't eat apie even if it was made of crowbars and rubber, as long as it was pie."

  "I guess he was right," observed Righty. "I knew a boy once who ate softcoal just because somebody told him it was rock-candy."

  "Did he like it?" asked Tom.

  "I don't think he did," replied Righty, "but he never let on that hedidn't."

  "Well, anyhow," put in Lefty, "it's time we had something to eat and we'dbetter set out for the Lobster shop or the Candydike--I don't care which."

  "Or the what?" asked Tom.

  "The Candydike?" said the Lefthandiron. "Didn't you ever hear of theCandydike?"

  "Never," responded Tom. "What is it?"

  "It's a candy Klondike," explained the Lefthandiron. "There are GumdropMines and Marshmallow Lodes and Deposits of Chocolate Creams beyond thedreams of avarice. Remember 'em, Righty?"

  "Oom, mh, mh!" murmured Righty, smacking his lips with joy. "Do I rememberthem! O, my! Don't I just. Why, I never wanted to come back from there. Ihad to be pulled out of the Peppermint mine with a derrick. And theriver--O, the river. Was there anything ever like it?"

  Tom's mouth began to water, he knew not why.

  "What about the river?" he asked.

  "Soda water flowing from Mountain to the Sea," returned the Righthandiron,smacking his lips again ecstatically. "Just imagine it, Tom. A greatstream of Soda Water fed by little rivulets of Vanilla and Strawberry andChocolate syrup, with here and there a Cream brook feeding thecombination, until all you had to do to get a glass of the finest nectarever mixed was to dip your cup into the river and there you were."

  Tom closed his eyes with very joy at the mere idea.

  "O--where is this river?" he cried, when he was able to find words tospeak.

  "In the Candydike, of course. Where else?" said the Poker. "But of coursewe can go to the Lobster shop if you prefer."

  "Not I," said Tom. "I don't care for any Lobster shop with a Candydike insight."

  "Don't be rash," said the Bellows, who apparently had a strong liking forthe Lobster shop. "Of course we all love the Candydike because it is sosweet, but for real pleasure the Lobster shop is not to be despised. Idon't think you ought to make up your mind as to where you'll go next intoo much of a hurry."

  "What's the fun in the Lobster shop?" asked Tom.

  "Purely intellectual, if you know what that means," said the Bellows. "Youget your mind filled there instead of your stomach. You meet the wittiestoysters, and the most poetic clams, and the most literary lobsters at theLobster shop you ever saw. For my part I love the Lobster shop. I can getsomething to eat anywhere. I can get a stake at any lumber yard in town. Ican get a chop at any ax factory in the country, and if I want sweets Ican find a Cakery--"

  "Bakery, you mean?" said Tom.

  "No, I don't at all," said the Bellows. "I mean Cakery. A Cakery is aplace where they sell cake, and when I say Cakery I mean what I say. Justbecause you call it Bakery doesn't prove anything."

  "We're out for pleasure, not for argument," growled the Lefthandiron. "Goon and say what you've got to say."

  "Well," said the Bellows, "what I was trying to say, when interrupted, wasthat you can get your stomach filled almost anywhere, but your mind--thatis different. I'm hungrier in my mind than in my stomach, and I'd ratherbe fed just now on the jests of an oyster, the good stories of a clam andthe anecdotes of a Lobster, than have the freedom of the richestmarshmallow mine in creation."

  "Well, I'm sure I don't know what to do," said Tom, very much perplexed.The Candydike was glorious, but the Lobster shop, too, had itsattractions, for Tom was fond of witty jokes and good anecdotes. The ideaof having them from the lips of lobsters and oysters was very appealing.

  "I say," he said in a minute, "why isn't the Lobster shop the best placefor us to go after all, if we are really hungry? We could sit down at thetable, you know, and listen to the Lobster's anecdotes, and then eat himafterward. In that way we could hear the stories and fill up beside."

  "Well--I de-clare!" cried the Bellows. "What an idea! You most ungratefulboy!"

  "Not at all," said the Poker. "Not at all. It's merely the habit of hiskind. Many's the time when I've heard of men and women devouring theirfavorite authors. Tom couldn't better show his liking for the lobster thanby eating him. On the other hand, if he goes there and turns his back onthe Candydike he'll miss the most wonderful sight in all creation, andthat is the Nesselrode Cataract on the Soda Water river. It is located atthe point where the Vanilla glacier comes down from the Cream mountains onthe one side, and the famous Marrons orchards line the other bank for adistance of seven miles. It's a perfectly gorgeous sight."

  "Mercy me!" cried Tom. "Indeed, I should like to see that."

  DEVOURING HIS FAVORITE AUTHOR.]

  "No doubt," put in the Bellows. "Nevertheless, you can see Nesselrodepudding at home at any time, but did you ever see there a Turtle that canrecite a fairy story of his own composition or a Crab capable ofnarrating the most thrilling story of the American revolutionary war thatanybody ever dreamed of?"

  "O dear, O dear, O dear!" said Tom. "What shall I do?"

  As he spoke, from far down in the valley there seemed to come a crash anda roar, following close upon which the barking of a dog made itself heard.

  "The ice is slipping," cried the Poker, as the mountain trembled beneaththem. "There's going to be an avalanche, and we're on it!"

  The whole top of the mountain shook as if it had been in an earthquake,and then it began to crash rapidly downward.

  "Dear me! How annoying," observed the Bellows. "As if we haven't hadenough coasting this trip without taking a turn on an avalanche."

  "But what shall we do?" roared the Andirons excitedly. "I never foresawthis."

  "Slide, I guess," said the Poker calmly. "It's all we can do."

  The barking of the dog approached closer.

  "Good!" cried Righty, clapping his claws together gleefully, as an ideaflashed across his mind. "It's one of those famous St. Bernards; he'lltake care of Tom, and as for us--"

  The thunderous roar of the descending avalanche drowned the sounds ofRighty's voice, and all that could now serve as a means of conveying theirthoughts to each other was the making of wild motions with the hands. ThePoker stood erect and stiff, looking grimly ahead of him, as if resolvedto meet his fate bravely; the Bellows threw himself flat upon the glacierand panted; while the two Andirons, standing guard on either side of Tom,peered anxiously about for the rescuer of their little guest, nor didthey look in vain, for in a few moments the huge figure of a St Bernardappeared below them, rushing with all his might and main to their side.For some reason or other, the St Bernard seemed to have something familiarabout him, but Tom couldn't quite say what it was.

  "Bow-wow-wow!" the dog barked gleefully, for this was just the sort ofwork he most enjoyed.

  Strangely enough, Tom seemed to understand dog language for the first timein his life, for the bark said to him as plainly as you please: "Climb onmy back sonny, and I'll have you out of this in a jiffy."

  The lad lost not a moment in obeying. Aided by the affectionate boosts ofthe Andirons he soon found himself lying face downward upon the broad,shaggy back of the faithful beast.

  He closed his eyes to shut out the blinding snow for a moment, and then--

  * * * * *

  Tom sat up and rubbed them, for there was no snow, no avalanche, no Alp,no St. Bernard dog
in sight. Only a friendly pair of andirons staringfixedly at him out of the fireplace of his father's library: the pokerstanding like a grenadier at one side, and the bellows, hanging from abrass-headed nail on the other. Beside these, lying on the rug beside him,his head cocked to one side, his eyes fixed intently upon Tom's face, andhis tail wagging furiously, was Jeffy, not a St Bernard, but a shaggylittle Scotch terrier.

  "Hello, Jeffy!" said Tom, as he rubbed his eyes a second time. "Where haveyou been all this time?"

  "Was it you who rescued me from the avalanche?"]

  "Woof!" barked Jeff, and cocking his eye knowingly.

  "And was it you who rescued me from the avalanche?" Tom asked.

  "Woof!" replied Jeff, as much as to say he wouldn't tell.

  "Well, it was mighty good of you, if you did, Jeffy," Tom said,gratefully. "Only I wish you could have taken me to the Candydike or theLobster shop instead of straight home--because I'm not only hungry Jeffy,but I should very much have liked to visit those wonderful places."

  "Woof!" said Jeffy.

  Which Tom took to be a promise that his rescuer would do better next time.

  The little party has not been off again since, but the other night somepieces of newspaper were thrown into the fire place and all but one ofthem were burned. Righty held this one under his claw and Tom, whiletrying to get a word out of his friend, caught sight of it.

  "Hello," said Tom, as he read what was printed on the clipping. "Theastronomers at the Lick observatory have discovered a new constellation inthe southeast heavens. It is of huge dimensions and resembles in itsoutlines the figure of a rhinoceros or some such pachydermatous creature."

  "Well, I never!" he cried, as he read. "I say, Righty, do you believethat's the old Hippopotamus?"

  And Righty said never a word, but the look in his eye indicated that hethought there was something in the notion.

  The End