Beautiful Joe by Marshall Saunders (read people like a book TXT) 📖

how shut in you will feel; and how curious you will

be to know what is going on beside you. Suppose a girl saw a mouse with

her eyes half covered, wouldn't she run?"

 

Everybody laughed, and the president asked some one to tell him who

invented blinders.

 

"An English nobleman," shouted a boy, "who had a wall-eyed horse! He

wanted to cover up the defect, and I think it is a great shame that all

the American horses have to suffer because that English one had an ugly

eye."

 

"So do I," said the president. "Three groans for blinders, boys."

 

All the children in the room made three dreadful noises away down in

their throats. Then they had another good laugh, and the president

became sober again. "Seven more minutes," he said; "this meeting has got

to be let out at five sharp."

 

A tall girl at the back of the room rose, and said. "My little cousin

has two stories that she would like to tell the band."

 

"Very well," said the president; "bring her right along."

 

The big girl came forward, leading a tiny child that she placed in front

of the boys and girls. The child stared up into her cousin's face,

turning and twisting her white pinafore through her fingers. Every time

the big girl took her pinafore away from her, she picked it up again.

"Begin, Nannie," said the big girl, kindly.

 

"Well, Cousin Eleanor," said the child, "you know Topsy, Graham's pony.

Well, Topsy _would_ run away, and a big, big man came out to papa and

said he would train Topsy. So he drove her every day, and beat her, and

beat her, till he was tired, but still Topsy would run away. Then papa

said he would not have the poor pony whipped so much, and he took her

out a piece of bread every day, and he petted her, and now Topsy is very

gentle, and never runs away."

 

"Tell about Tiger," said the girl.

 

"Well, Cousin Eleanor," said the child, "you know Tiger, our big dog. He

used to be a bad dog, and when Dr. Fairchild drove up to the house he

jumped up and bit at him. Dr. Fairchild used to speak kindly to him, and

throw out bits of meat, and now when he comes, Tiger follows behind and

wags his tail. Now, give me a kiss."

 

The girl had to give her a kiss, right up there before every one, and

what a stamping the boys made. The larger girl blushed and hurried back

to her seat, with the child clinging to her hand.

 

There was one more story, about a brave Newfoundland dog, that saved

eight lives by swimming out to a wrecked sailing vessel, and getting a

rope by which the men came ashore, and then a lad got up whom they all

greeted with cheers, and cries of, "The Poet! the Poet!" I didn't know

what they meant, till Mrs. Wood whispered to Miss Laura that he was a

boy who made rhymes, and the children had rather hear him speak than any

one else in the room.

 

He had a snub nose and freckles, and I think he was the plainest boy

there, but that didn't matter, if the other children loved him. He

sauntered up to the front, with his hands behind his back, and a very

grand manner.

 

"The beautiful poetry recited here to-day," he drawled, "put some verses

in my mind that I never had till I came here to-day." Everyone present

cheered wildly, and he began in a singsong voice:

 

 

"I am a Band of Mercy boy,

   I would not hurt a fly,

I always speak to dogs and cats,

   When'er I pass them by.

 

"I always let the birdies sing,

   I never throw a stone,

I always give a hungry dog

   A nice, fat, meaty bone.

 

"I wouldn't drive a bob-tailed horse,

   Nor hurry up a cow,

I----"

 

 

Then he forgot the rest. The boys and girls were so sorry. They called

out, "Pig," "Goat," "Calf," "Sheep," "Hens," "Ducks," and all the other

animals' names they could think of, but none of them was right, and as

the boy had just made up the poetry, no one knew what the next could be.

He stood for a long time staring at the ceiling, then he said, "I guess

I'll have to give it up."

 

The children looked dreadfully disappointed. "Perhaps you will remember

it by our next meeting," said the president, anxiously.

 

"Possibly", said the boy, "but probably not. I think it is gone

forever." And he went to his seat.

 

The next thing was to call for new members. Miss Laura got up and said

she would like to join their Band of Mercy. I followed her up to the

platform, while they pinned a little badge on her, and every one laughed

at me. Then they sang, "God Bless our Native Land," and the president

told us that we might all go home.

 

It seemed to me a lovely thing for those children to meet together to

talk about kindness to animals. They all had bright and good faces, and

many of them stopped to pat me as I came out. One little girl gave me a

biscuit from her school bag.

 

Mrs. Wood waited at the door till Mr. Maxwell came limping out on his

crutches. She introduced him to Miss Laura, and asked him if he wouldn't

go and take tea with them. He said he would be very happy to do so, and

then Mrs. Wood laughed; and asked him if he hadn't better empty his

pockets first. She didn't want a little toad jumping over her tea table,

as one did the last time he was there.

 

 

 

 

 

       *       *       *       *       *

CHAPTER XXI (MR. MAXWELL AND MR. HARRY)

 

Mr. Maxwell wore a coat with loose pockets, and while she was speaking,

he rested on his crutches, and began to slap them with his hands. "No;

there's nothing here to-day," he said; "I think I emptied my pockets

before I went to the meeting."

 

Just as he said that there was a loud squeal: "Oh, my guinea pig," he

exclaimed; "I forgot him," and he pulled out a little spotted creature a

few inches long. "Poor Derry, did I hurt you?" and he soothed it very

tenderly.

 

I stood and looked at Mr. Maxwell, for I had never seen any one like

him. He had thick curly hair and a white face, and he looked just like a

girl. While I was staring at him, something peeped up out of one of his

pockets and ran out its tongue at me so fast that I could scarcely see

it, and then drew back again. I was thunderstruck. I had never seen such

a creature before. It was long and thin like a boy's cane, and of a

bright green color like grass, and it had queer shiny eyes. But its

tongue was the strangest part of it. It came and went like lightning. I

was uneasy about it, and began to bark.

 

"What's the matter, Joe?" said Mrs. Wood; "the pig won't hurt you."

 

But it wasn't the pig I was afraid of, and I kept on barking. And all

the time that strange live thing kept sticking up its head and putting

out its tongue at me, and neither of them noticed it.

 

"Its getting on toward six," said Mrs. Wood; "we must be going home.

Come, Mr. Maxwell."

 

The young man put the guinea pig in his pocket, picked up his crutches,

and we started down the sunny village street. He left his guinea pig at

his boarding house as he went by, but he said nothing about the other

creature, so I knew he did not know it was there.

 

I was very much taken with Mr. Maxwell. He seemed so bright and happy,

in spite of his lameness, which kept him from running about like other

young men. He looked a little older than Miss Laura, and one day, a week

or two later, when they were sitting on the veranda, I heard him tell

her that he was just nineteen. He told her, too, that his lameness made

him love animals. They never laughed at him, or slighted him, or got

impatient, because he could not walk quickly. They were always good to

him, and he said he loved all animals while he liked very few people.

 

On this day as he was limping along, he said to Mrs. Wood: "I am getting

more absent-minded every day. Have you heard of my latest escapade?"

 

"No," she said.

 

"I am glad," he replied. "I was afraid that it would be all over the

village by this time. I went to church last Sunday with my poor guinea

pig in my pocket. He hasn't been well, and I was attending to him before

church, and put him in there to get warm, and forgot about him.

Unfortunately I was late, and the back seats were all full, so I had to

sit farther up than I usually do. During the first hymn I happened to

strike Piggy against the side of the seat. Such an ear-splitting squeal

as he set up. It sounded as if I was murdering him. The people stared

and stared, and I had to leave the church, overwhelmed with confusion."

 

Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura laughed, and then they got talking about other

matters that were not interesting to me, so I did not listen. But I kept

close to Miss Laura, for I was afraid that green thing might hurt her. I

wondered very much what its name was. I don't think I should have feared

it so much if I had known what it was.

 

"There's something the matter with Joe," said Miss Laura, when we got

into the lane. "What is it, dear old fellow?" She put down her little

hand, and I licked it, and wished so much that I could speak.

 

Sometimes I wish very much that I had the gift of speech, and then at

other times I see how little it would profit me, and how many foolish

things I should often say. And I don't believe human beings would love

animals as well, if they could speak.

 

When we reached the house, we got a joyful surprise. There was a trunk

standing on the veranda, and as soon as Mrs. Wood saw it, she gave a

little shriek: "My dear boy!"

 

Mr. Harry was there, sure enough, and stepped out through the open door.

He took his mother in his arms and kissed her, then he shook hands with

Miss Laura and Mr. Maxwell, who seemed to be an old friend of his. They

all sat down on the veranda and talked, and I lay at Miss Laura's feet

and looked at Mr. Harry. He was such a handsome young man, and had such

a noble face. He was older and graver looking than when I saw him last,

and he had a light, brown moustache that he did not have when he was in

Fairport.

 

He seemed very fond of his mother and of Miss Laura, and however grave

his face might be when he was looking at Mr. Maxwell, it always lighted

up when he turned to them. "What dog is that?" he said at last, with a

puzzled face, and pointing to me.

 

"Why, Harry," exclaimed Miss Laura, "don't you know Beautiful Joe, that

you rescued from that wretched milkman?"

 

"Is it possible," he said, "that this well-conditioned creature is the

bundle of dirty skin and bones that we nursed in Fairport? Come here,

sir. Do you remember me?"

 

Indeed I did remember him, and I licked his hands and looked up

gratefully into his face. "You're almost handsome now," he said,

caressing me with a firm, kind hand, "and of a solid build, too. You

look like a fighter--but I suppose you wouldn't let him fight, even if

he wanted to, Laura," and he smiled and glanced at her.

 

"No," she said; "I don't think I should; but he can fight when the

occasion requires