[Illustration: "Get him a mirror. "]

 ANDIRON TALES

 BY

 JOHN KENDRICK BANGS

 ILLUSTRATED BY CLARE VICTOR DWIGGINS

 THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. PUBLISHERS PHILADELPHIA

[Illustration]

 COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. 

 CONTENTS

 CHAPTER I. TOM AND THE ANDIRONS 9

 CHAPTER II. THE STORY OF EBENEZER 17

 CHAPTER III. OFF IN THE CLOUDS 25

 CHAPTER IV. THE POKER TELLS HIS STORY 38

 CHAPTER V. THE POKER CONCLUDES HIS STORY 45

 CHAPTER VI. THE LITERARY BELLOWS 52

 CHAPTER VII. THEY REACH THE CRESCENT MOON 61

 CHAPTER VIII. ON THE TROLLEY CLOUD 70

 CHAPTER IX. ON THE OSCYCLE--A NARROW ESCAPE 80

 CHAPTER X. HOME AGAIN 91

[Illustration]

 ILLUSTRATIONS

 BY CLARE VICTOR DWIGGINS

 "GET HIM A MIRROR, " SAID THE LEFTHANDIRON. _In colors Frontispiece_

 "I'M NOT A DORMOUSE" 12

 "A LITTLE TALE WHICH I WILL WAG FOR YOU" 15

 "AND THEN DIE WITHOUT PAYING FOR IT" 20

 "JUST WHAT I WANTED FOR MY LUNCH" 22

 "TRIED TO BITE MY HEAD OFF" 23

 "A MOUSE WITH A DOOR TO HIM" 31

 "THERE'S NO BETTER PLACE THAN THIS CLOUD, " SAID THE POKER. _In colors_ 33

 "IN ONE EAR AND OUT OF THE OTHER" 34

 "A POKER WHO COULD ONLY POKE" 39

 "No, " she said, "I'm not your mother, I am a Fairy. " _In colors_ 40

 "DOESN'T HAVE TO LIVE IN A BATHTUB" 41

 "EAGLES NEVER HAVE UMBRELLAS" 46

 "ONE DAY THE WOODCUTTERS CAME" 49

 "SO I REALLY LIVE HOME" 51

 "WHAT'S THE USE OF FIGHTING?" 53

 "I BLOW A STORY OF TWO, NOW AND THEN, " SAID THE BELLOWS. _In Colors_ 54

 HE GAVE A TREMENDOUS WHEEZE 58

 "COLUMBUS WAS A GREAT MAN" 63

 "YOU SEE, IT'S THIS SHAPE" 66

 "WHY, IT'S REALLY A TROLLEY!" HE CRIED. _In colors_ 68

 "IT KEEPS ME JUMPING ALL THE TIME" 72

 "I HAVEN'T THE MONEY" 78

 ON THE OSCYCLE. _In colors_ 80

 "MY OWN PRIVATE ICEBERG" 83

 THE MAN FROM SATURN JUMPED 86

 TOM JUMPED, AND IN A MOMENT WAS SITTING ASTRIDE THE GREAT BIRD'S NECK. _In colors_ 89

 "UPON THE ANVIL IN HIS SANCTUM" 93

 DEVOURING HIS FAVORITE AUTHOR 98

 TOM IS AWAKENED BY THE AVALANCHE. _In colors_ 100

 TAIL PIECE 102

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Andiron Tales

By John Kendrick Bangs

 Being the Remarkable Adventures of a Boy with a Lively Imagination

CHAPTER I. 

Tom and the Andirons

It was perfectly natural in one respect, anyhow. There was really noreason in the world why Tom should not lie upon the great bear-skin rug infront of the library fire those cold winter nights if he wanted to, norneed anyone be surprised that he should want to. It was indeed a mostdelightful place to lie in. The bear-skin was soft and in every waycomfortable and comforting. The fireplace itself was one of those hugehospitable affairs that might pass in some apartment houses in our narrowcooped-up city streets for a butler's pantry or small reception room--infact in the summer time Tom used to sit in the fireplace and pretend hewas in his office transacting business with such of his sister's dolls ascould be induced to visit him there; giving orders to imaginary clerks andbookkeepers and keeping an equally fanciful office boy continually on therun. And then apart from the rug and the fireplace it was a beautifulroom in which they were. Tom's father was very fond of books, and, although he was a great many years older than Tom, he had not forgottenhow to enjoy the very same kind of books that Tom liked. He was notashamed to have one little niche of his library filled with the storieswhich had delighted him in his boyhood days, and which still continued toplease him, and, of course, this lent an additional charm to the libraryin Tom's eyes. It held his heroes, and on some of those drowsy nights whenthe only sounds to break the stillness of the room were the scratching ofhis father's pen, the soft humming of some little tune by his mothersitting and sewing by the evening lamp, and the fierce crackling of theburning logs, Tom could almost see these heroes stepping down from theshelves and like so many phantoms flitting in and about the room. In fact, upon one occasion, Tom is convinced he did see these very people having adance upon the great tiled hearth--but of that you shall hear later. 

There were many other things in the library beside his heroes thatinterested Tom. There was a little Japanese ivory god that used to sit upon the mantel shelf and gaze wisely at him, as much as to say, "Dear me, boy, what a lot I could tell you if I only would!" Then, too, there was avery handsome vase on top of one of the book-cases that had two remarkabledragons climbing up its sides, the tail of one of them so fixed that ifanyone chose to use the vase for a pitcher the tail would make a veryconvenient handle, at which the other dragon always appeared to belaughing heartily, which he had no reason to do, because his own tail wasnot arranged any too gracefully. But the things that, next to Jack theGiant Killer, and Beauty and the Beast, and Tom Thumb and his otherheroes and heroines, Tom liked the most, were two great brazen Andironsthat stood in the fireplace. To Tom these Andirons, though up to the nightwhen our story begins he had never seen them move, seemed almost to live. They had big, round, good-natured faces, that shone like so much gold. Their necks were slight and graceful, but as they developed downwardtoward their handsome feet the Andirons grew more portly, until finallythey came to look very much like a pair of amiable sea serpents withoutmuch length. Tom's uncle said they looked like cats, with sunflowers forheads, swan necks for bodies, and very little of the cat about them savethe claws. This description made Tom laugh, but the more he thought aboutit the more truthful did it seem to him to be. 

For so long a time as Tom could remember, summer and winter, thoseAndirons had sat staring stolidly ahead in their accustomed place, and notuntil that December night had they even so much as winked at him--but onthat occasion they more than made up for all their previous silence andseeming unsociability. Tom was lying on the rug, as usual, and I am afraidwas almost asleep. The logs were burning fiercely and at first Tom thoughtthat the words he heard spoken were nothing but their crackling andhissing, but in a minute he changed his mind about that for the very goodreason that the "Lefthandiron"--as Tom's uncle once called it--winked hiseye at Tom and said:

"Hullo, Sleepyhead. "

Tom only returned the wink. He was too much surprised to say anything. 

"His name isn't Sleepyhead, " said the Righthandiron, with a grin. "It'sThomas D. Pate. "

"What's the D for?" asked the other. 

"Dozy--Thomas Dozy Pate, " exclaimed the Righthandiron. "His ancestors wereSleepyheads on his mother's side, and Dozy Pates on his father's side. "

"'Tisn't so at all!" cried Tom, indignantly. "My mama wasn't a Sleepyhead, and my name isn't Dozy Pate. "

"He's such a Sleepyhead he doesn't know his own name, " said theLefthandiron. 

[Illustration: "I'M NOT A DORMOUSE. "]

"That's a curious thing about the Sleepyheads and the Dozy Pates. Theyvery seldom know their own names--and even when they do they always denythat they are what they are. Why I really believe if I told Tom here thathe was a Dormouse he'd deny it and say he was a boy. "

"I am a boy, " said Tom, stoutly, "and I'm not a Dormouse. "

Both of the Andirons laughed heartily at this, and the Righthandiron, dancing a little jig, sang over and over again this couplet:

 "He can't be very smart, I wis, If he can't see that's what he is. "

"Get him a mirror, " said the Lefthandiron. "We can't blame him forthinking he is a boy, because everybody has told him he is a boy exceptourselves, and being a Sleepyhead he believes as a rule what he is told ifit is pleasant to believe. "

"Well, I can't see why he objects to being a Dormouse, " said theRighthandiron. "I think Dormice are very handsome and just too sweet andamiable to live. They are much pleasanter mice than Windowmice andStairmice--don't you think so?"

"Indeed I do, " returned the Lefthandiron, "and Tom is about the finestDormouse I ever saw, and I wish he'd let us get acquainted with him. "

"So do I, " said the other, "but if he doesn't it's his own loss. You and Ican go off to Santa Clausville by ourselves and have quite as good a time, if not better, than if he were along with us. I've noticed one thing, mydear Lefty, two's best anyhow. 

 "Two people in an omnibus Where there's but one settee, Can both be seated with less fuss Than if the twain were three. 

 "If there is candy for but four, This maxim still holds true, Each one will get so much the more If there are only two. 

 "Two boys upon a teeter board Can have just twice the fun That any seesaw can afford If there's another one. 

"So I say, what if he doesn't come? You and I will enjoy ourselves just asmuch. There'll be more candy for us, we won't have to divide the good timewe have up into more than two parts, and, what is more, neither of us willhave to carry the Dormouse. "

Here the two Andirons gave a sidelong glance at Tom, and saw that he wassmiling. 

"What are you laughing at?" asked the Righthandiron. "Eh, Dormouse?"

"If I'll be a Dormouse will you take me off on your good time with you?"asked Tom. 

"Certainly, but we can't take anybody who denies that he is what he is orwho says that his name doesn't belong to him. "

"But I can't tell a story, " said Tom. 

"Nobody asked you to, " returned the Righthandiron. "All we ask is thatyou'll say nothing about it. If we say your name is Sleepyhead you needn'ttry to make people think we don't know what we are talking about by sayingthat your name isn't Sleepyhead, but Tommy Wideawake, or Billy Lemonstick, or something else; and when we choose to state that you are a Dormouse wewant you to be a Dormouse and not go crying out through the street, 'I ama huckleberry. ' In the countries we visit people think we are the wisestof the wise, and what we say no one ever dares dispute. "

"So, you see, my dear Dormouse, " said the other, "we couldn't possiblytake you off with us unless you fall in with our plans and submit to ourcalling you anything we please. "

"I don't see why you are not willing to admit that I am a boy, though, "insisted Tom, who, although he was extremely anxious to go off with theAndirons, did not really like to lose sight of the fact that he was a boy. "What good does it do you or me or anybody else for me to admit that I ama Dormouse, for instance?"

"A little tail which I will wag for you, " said the Righthandiron, "willexplain how that is. Did you ever know a boy named Ebenezer J. Carrottop?"

"No, I never heard of any person with such an absurd name as that, "returned Tom. 

[Illustration: "A LITTLE TALE WHICH I WILL WAG FOR YOU. "]

"Well, you are very fortunate not to have been one of Ebenezer'sparticular friends, " said the Righthandiron. "If you had been, the story Iam going to tell you would have made you very unhappy. As it is, nothaving known Ebenezer, and, having in fact taken a dislike to him becauseof his name, the story will amuse you more than otherwise. "

"Good, " said Tom; "I like to be amused. "

"That being the case, " said the Andiron, "I will proceed at once to tellyou the story of Ebenezer. "

CHAPTER II. 

The Story of Ebenezer

"Ebenezer was a boy very much like yourself in several ways, " resumed theRighthandiron. "He wasn't one of the Sleepyhead or Dozy Pate families, buthe was next thing to it. He was nephew of Senator Takeanap, and a grandsonof old General Snoraloud--but he'd never admit it. He used to get just asangry when we reminded him that he was quite as much of a Snoraloud as aCarrottop, as you were when we called you Sleepyhead, and when my brotherLefty here said to him, 'Hullo, Weasel, ' he didn't like it a bit betterthan you did when we said you were a Dormouse. He insisted that he was aboy, and for all we could do we couldn't get him to admit that he was aWeasel--"

 "He was the most persistent lad That I have ever seen. He'd always say that bad was bad, That blue could not be green. 

 "We couldn't get him to deny That white was always white, And though we'd try and try and try He'd say that he was right, "

interrupted the Lefthandiron. 

"And wasn't he?" asked Tom. 

"That isn't a part of the story, " snapped the Righthandiron, "and if youdon't stop interrupting me I'll never speak to you again. "

"I didn't mean to, " said Tom apologetically. 

"That's just the worst part of it, " snapped the Andiron. "You are aninterrupter by nature, and that is the most incurable kind. But, as I wastelling you, Ebenezer was bound to be a boy, and no amount of talk on ourpart could convince him that he was a Weasel. Well, Lefty and I were veryyoung then, and up to the time of which I am speaking we had always madeour little trips in the Fairy Country or in Giantland all by ourselves, and we had lots of fun together I can warrant. This time, however, wedecided to take Ebenezer with us to Giantland, which was a place he hadoften heard us tell about, and concerning which he was very curious. Wetold him that it would never do for him to visit Giantland, because theGiants were always very hungry, and liked nothing better to eat than a boylike himself. It would be dangerous for him to go, we said, unless hewould promise to obey us in everything we told him to do, and to admitthat he was whatever we chose to call him. "

"You see, my dear Tom, " said the Lefthandiron in explanation, "the Giantshad such confidence in us that they accepted as true anything we said, sothat if we should happen to meet a hungry ogre and he should want to eatEbenezer because he was a boy, all that would be necessary for us to do tosave Ebenezer was to say, 'Hold on. He is not a boy. He is a Weasel. ' ThenEbenezer would be all right, because Giants do not eat Weasels. "

"I see, " said Tom, nodding his head. 

"Ebenezer promised that he would obey us and wouldn't deny that he was aWeasel if we told the Giants he was one, and we took him off with us, "resumed the Righthandiron. "We went straight to Giantland and had aperfectly lovely time until about an hour before it was time to return, when we encountered a huge Giant named Skihigh--and my, how hungry he was!He was hungrier than Lefty's friend, who went into a restaurant andordered

 "'Thirty-seven pounds of cake, Sixty-four lamb chops, Eighteen portions of beefsteak, Forty ginger pops; Seventeen vanilla puffs, Twenty fresh-caught dabs, Thirty-eight rich raisin duffs, Ninety soft-shell crabs. 

 "'Let those go for course the first; Let the second be Shrimps and oysters till I burst, Thirteen quarts of tea. Then a dozen sugared hams, One small cabbage head, Ninety dozen pinky clams, Sixty loaves of bread. 

 "'Seven quarts of French canned pease, And a pound or two Of your Gorgonzola cheese For my lunch will do. " Then the waiter standing by In the usual way Asked him: 'Won't you also try Our hot mince today?'"

"I don't want to interrupt, " said Tom, "but it seems to me that man musthave been awful rich. "

"No, he wasn't, " returned Lefty. "He was going to eat the dinner, youknow, and then die without paying for it. He wasn't a very good man. "

[Illustration: "AND THEN DIE WITHOUT PAYING FOR IT. "]

"No, " remarked the story-teller. "But he was a very hungry man, in whichrespect he was just like the Giant I am trying to tell you about. And my, how the Giant roared with glee when he caught sight of Ebenezer. 

"'Good!' he cried, 'that's just what I wanted for my lunch. A nice fatboy. '

"Then he reached down, " said the Righthandiron, "and grabbed Ebenezer bythe arm, and was about to eat him just as he would a piece of asparagus, when Lefty here cried out:

"'Avast there, Skihigh! That isn't a nice fat boy. That is only amiserable Weasel. '

"'Pah!' said Skihigh, with a face such as you put on when you take ahorrid tasting medicine. 'Pah! I can't eat Weasels. '

"And with that he put Ebenezer down on the road again and was about towalk along about his business when what did that foolish little Ebenezerdo but up and deny that he was a Weasel!

"'I'm not a Weasel, ' he yelled. 'And I am a boy--and a fine boy at that!'

"Skihigh stopped short, whirled about and rushed back to where Ebenezerwas standing. 

"'What's that you say?' he said eagerly. 

"'I say I am not a Weasel, but a fine fat boy, ' said the vaingloriousEbenezer stoutly. 

"'Then my friends, the Andirons have deceived me, have they?' roared theGiant. 

"'Yes, ' replied Ebenezer. 'But I can't stand being called a Weasel. '

[ILLUSTRATION: "JUST WHAT I WANTED FOR MY LUNCH. "]

"With that, " said the Righthandiron, "Skihigh clapped Ebenezer into hismarket basket and then turned on Lefty and me. Lefty managed to get away, but I was caught. "

"What did he do to you?" asked Tom, trembling with excitement. 

"He tried to bite my head off, " said Righty, with a laugh. "See those twodents on either side of my neck?"

Tom looked, and sure enough there were the dents--not very deep, but quitelarge enough to be seen. 

"His teeth broke when he got that far, " said Righty. "I'm pretty hard--butyou see it needn't have happened at all if Ebenezer had only kept quietabout his not being a Weasel. "

[ILLUSTRATION: "TRIED TO BITE MY HEAD OFF. "]

"Was he eaten by Skihigh?" asked Tom. 

"I don't know, " replied Righty. "Lefty and I didn't wait to find out, andwe have never been back there since. I don't believe he did eat him, fortwo reasons. One is that after trying to bite my head off Skihigh hadn'tteeth enough left to eat anything with, and the other reason is that Isaw Ebenezer two years afterwards on his way to school one beautifulspring morning. I noticed him particularly because, although it was alovely clear morning, he had his umbrella up and positively declined toput it down and carry it closed, because, he said, an umbrella couldn'tpossibly be a cane, and he wasn't going to try to make anybody suppose itwas a cane. "

"I don't see anything in that story to make me unhappy, even if I were achum of Ebenezer's, " said Tom, as the Andiron finished. 

"You don't? Don't you think it was sad that the Giant couldn't eat a boywho'd behave in that way?" asked Righty, with a scornful glance at Tom. 

"It was very sad, Tom, " said the Lefthandiron. "So don't denyit--especially if you want to go off on our trip to the stars. "

"Are you really going to the stars?" gasped Tom, breathless at the veryidea and forgetting all about Ebenezer. 

"Perhaps, " returned the Andiron. 

"And may I go with you?" whispered Tom. 

"You may if you will do whatever we tell you, and admit that you are aDormouse, " said Righty. 

"All right, I'll obey, " said Tom. 

"And what did you say your name was?" asked Lefty. 

"Sleepyhead Dozy Pate Dormouse, " said Tom, with a laugh. 

"You'll do, " returned the Righthandiron, stepping lightly out of thefireplace. "Now sit astride of my back and take hold of Lefty's rightclaw. "

Tom did as he was told, and in an instant he was flying up through spacetoward the stars. 

CHAPTER III. 

Off in the Clouds

"Now the point to be decided, " said the Lefthandiron, after he and hiscompanions had been flying through space for some time, "is where we aregoing. There are two or three things we can do, and Tom can have hischoice as to which it shall be. "

"Subject, of course, to my advice, " said the Righthandiron, with a bow toTom. "You can go where you please if I please. See?"

"Yes, " said Tom. "I see. I can have my way as long as it is your way. "

"Precisely, " said the Righthandiron, with an approving nod. "And as youmay have heard, precisely means exactly so. You can have your way as longas it is my way, which shows how generous I am. Fond of my way as I am, Iam willing to divide it with you. "

"All right, " returned Tom. "I'm very much obliged. What are the two thingswe can do?"

"Well, " said the Lefthandiron, scratching his head softly, "we can fly upa little higher and sit down and watch the world go round; we can take thelong jump, or we can visit Saturn. "

"What was the first?" asked Tom. 

"To fly up a little higher, where we can get a better view; to sit downthere and watch the world go round. It is an excellent way to travel. It'sawfully easy--in fact, it isn't you that travels at all. It's the worldthat does the traveling, while all you've got to do is to sit down thereand keep an eye on it. It's like a big panorama, only it's real, and anytime you see a place going by that you think you'd like to see more of, all you've got to do is to fly down there and see it. "

"When you get up higher and sit down, " said Tom, "what do you sit on?"

"You sit on me and I sit on my hind legs, of course, " said Lefthandiron. "Don't you know anything?"

"Of course I do, " said Tom, indignantly. "I know lots of things. "

"Then I can't see why you ask such silly questions, " retorted theLefthandiron. "What do we sit on? Why, you might just as well ask a dogwhat he barks with, or a lion what he eats his breakfast with--and thatwould be as stupid as the Poker's poem on Sandwiches. "

"Did the Poker write a poem on Sandwiches?" asked Tom. 

"Eight of 'em, " returned the Lefthandiron. "The first of them went thisway:

 "He sat upon a lofty hill, And smoked his penny pipe. 'Ha!' quoth a passing whip-poor-will, 'The oranges are ripe. '"

"The other seven went like this, " observed the Righthandiron:

 "The day was over, and the six- Teen little darkies then Found they were in a dreadful fix, Like several other men. "

"There isn't anything about Sandwiches in those poems, " said Tom, with alook of perplexity on his face. 

"No. That's where the stupidity of it comes in. He wrote those poems andcalled 'em all Sandwiches just to be stupid, and it was stupid. "

"But what did he want to be stupid for?" asked Tom. 

"Just his vanity, that's all, " said the Righthandiron. "The Poker is avery vain person. He thinks he is superior to everybody else ineverything. If you say to him, 'the gas fixture is bright tonight, ' he'llsay, 'Oh, yes--but I'm brighter. ' Somebody told him once that the kindlingwood that started the fires was stupid, and he wouldn't even stop hisbragging then. 'Oh, yes, ' he said, 'but I'm a great deal stupider than thekindling wood and I'll prove it. ' So he sat down and wrote those versesand called 'em all Sandwiches, and everybody agreed that he was thestupidest person going. "

"You only told me two of 'em, " said Tom. 

"No--the whole eight were there. To make it more stupid the Poker saidthat the first one was number five and the second was the other seven. "

Tom smiled broadly at this and made up his mind to cultivate theacquaintance of the Poker. He was boy enough to like stupidity of thatsort because it made him laugh. 

"I'd like to meet the Poker, " he said. "He must be lots of fun. "

"He is, " said the Lefthandiron. "Tenacre lots of fun. You'll meet him soonenough because we shall join him shortly. We never go off on any of ourtrips without him. He is a great help sometimes when we get into troublejust because he has so many sides. If we fall into a pit through somemisstep the Poker comes along and pries us out of it. If we fall into thehands of some horrible creature that wants to hurt us, the Poker talks tothat creature as stupid as he knows how, which makes the other so drowsythat he can't possibly keep awake, and then, of course, we escape. "

"There he is now, " cried the Righthandiron, putting his right forepaw upto his ear and listening attentively. "I can hear him singing, can't you?"

The Lefthandiron stopped short and Tom strained his ears to hear thePoker's song. For a moment he could hear nothing, but then a slightbuzzing sound like the hum of a bee, came to his ears and in anotherminute he could distinguish the words of the song. It was a song showingthat the singer was one of those favored beings who are satisfied withwhat the world has given them--as you will see for yourself when you hearit. These are the words as they came to Tom's ears, sung to a soft littleair which the Poker made up as he went along, thereby showing that he wasa musician as well as a Poker:

 "Oh, I am a Poker bold and free, And I poke the livelong day. I love the land and I hate the sea, But the sky and the clouds are there for me. 

 I dote on the Milky Way. The clouds are as soft as a fleecy rug, And as cool as cool can be. The skies fit into my figure snug, And they make me feel so blithe and smug That I am glad Fate made me Me. Oh Me! Ah Me! 'Tis a lovely fate And a mission great To be Like me And to love the skies, And the clouds to prize, And to hate the turbulent sea, He--he-- So I lift my voice And I loud rejoice That the Fates have made me Me. "

"Hullo!" cried the Righthandiron. 

"Halloa!" called the Lefthandiron. 

"That's not my name, " came the voice of the Poker from behind a cloud justabove Tom's head. "But I know who you mean, so I answer Halloa yourself. "

"Where are you?" cried Lefty. 

"Here, " called the Poker. 

"No, you're not, " called Righty. "You're there. We are here. "

"Well, that's neither here nor there, " retorted the Poker, poking his headout through the cloud. "Hullo! Who have you got there? That isn't Tom, isit?"

"No--it's Sleepyhead D. Dormouse, " laughed Lefty. 

"Good, " said the Poker, advancing and shaking Tom by the hand. "I wasafraid it was Tom. Not that I dislike Tom, for I don't. I think he is oneof the nicest boys I know--but he weighs a good fifty-seven pounds, and sofar we haven't been able to get a cloud strong enough to support more thanfifty-six. If Tom were to come up here and sit on a cloud he'd fallthrough, and if he fell through, you know what would happen. "

"No, I don't, " said Tom, to whom the Poker's remarks were addressed. "Whatwould happen?"

"Well, in the first place, it would spoil the cloud, and in the secondplace, if he tumbled into the sea he'd have to swim ashore, " said thePoker, sagely. "That's why I am glad you're young Mr. Dormouse, and notTom. Dormice can sit on the flimsiest clouds we have and not breakthrough. "

"What is a Dormouse anyhow?" asked Tom, to whom it now occurred for thefirst time that he had never seen a Dormouse. 

"Ho!" jeered Righty, as Tom asked the question. "The idea of not knowingwhat a Dormouse is!"

"He's a mouse with a door to him, of course, " said Lefty. 

"Which he keeps closed, " said the Poker, "so that he will not be disturbedwhile he is asleep. "

Tom tried to imagine what a creature of that sort looked like, but hefound it difficult. Not liking to appear stupid he accepted theexplanation. 

"Oh!" he said. "It must be a very pretty animal. "

"Oh, yes!" said the Poker. "But he isn't as pretty as I can be when Itry. My, how pretty I can be--but say, Andies, where are we bound thistrip?"

"We've left that to Sleepyhead to decide, " said Lefty. 

"In the usual way of course?" queried the Poker. 

"Oh, yes! He can't decide except as we want him to and have it go as areal decision. We've given him his choice of watching the world go round, going to Saturn or taking the long jump. "

[Illustration: "A MOUSE WITH A DOOR TO HIM. "]

"And which will it be, Dormy?" asked the Poker. 

"I sort of think I'd like to sit up here and watch the world go round, "said Tom. 

"Nope, " said Righty. 

"Then let's go to Saturn, " suggested Tom. 

"Oh, no!" said Righty. "Not that. "

"Then there's only one thing left, " said Tom, with a sigh, "and that's thelong jump--whatever that is. "

Tom's three companions roared with laughter. 

"Absurd!" cried Righty. "The idea. The long jump the only thing left! Ha, ha, ha!"

"Perfect nonsense, " laughed Lefty. "I never thought Dozy Pate could be sodull. "

"Well, he isn't anything like as dull as I can be when I try, " said thePoker. "He's pretty dull, though. "

"I don't see where the joke comes in, " snapped Tom, who did not at alllike the way the Andirons and the Poker were behaving. "If there are onlythree things we can do and you won't do two of them there's only oneleft. "

"Ha, ha, ha!" roared Lefty. 

"Poor dull Dormouse, " said Righty, with a smile that was half of mirth andhalf sympathy. 

"You are evidently a Dormouse with very little education, Dormy, " said thePoker. "If there are three apples on a plate, one red, one green and onewhite and you are told to take your pick of the lot there are four thingsyou can do, not three. "

"What are they?" asked Tom, meekly. 

[Illustration: "There's no better place than this cloud. "]

"You can take a red one, a white one, a green one, or all three. See?"

"Oh, yes!" said Tom, beginning to smile again. "I see. You don't want meto choose watching the earth go round, or going to Saturn, or taking thelong jump, but you do want me to choose all three. "

"Now you are talking sense, " said Righty. "And sense is what we areafter. "

"That's it, " said the Poker. "Now what do you choose, Dormy?"

"All three!" roared Tom. 

"The Dormouse is getting his eyes open, " said Lefty. 

"Which is very proper, " put in Righty, "for there is a great deal for himto see. "

"Not so much as there is for me to see, " said the Poker. "My, what a lotthere is for me to see!"

"The first thing for us to do, " said Lefty, paying no attention to thePoker's words, "is to get a good place for us to sit, so that Sleepyheadcan see the world. "

"There's no better place than this cloud, " said the Poker. "I've sat heremany a time and studied China by the hour. "

"It's a little too far away for Sleepyhead, " said Lefty. "Dormy mustn't beallowed to strain his eyes. "

"Never thought of that, " said the Poker. "Of course, I can see a greatdeal farther than he can. My, how far I can see! What's the matter withour pushing the cloud in a little nearer?"

"Nothing--if we can do it, " said Righty. "But can we?"

"We can 'wink our eye and try, ' as the poet says, " returned the Poker. "Ever heard that poem, Dormy?"

"No, " returned Tom. "That is, not that I know of. I've heard lots ofpoetry in my life, but it goes in one ear and out of the other. "

"You must have a queer head, " said the Poker, peering into Tom's ear. "Howa poem poured into one ear can go out of the other I can't understand. There doesn't seem to be any opening there. "

[Illustration: "In one ear and out of the other. "]

"His head isn't solid like ours, " said Lefty. "It's too bad to beafflicted the way he is. He ought to do the way a boy I knew once did. Hesuffered just as Dormy does. You'd tell him a thing in his left ear andthe first thing you'd know, pop! it would all come out of the other earand be lost. The poor fellow was growing up to be an ignoramus. Couldn'tkeep a thing in his head, until one night I overheard his father andmother talking about it in the library. The boy's father wanted to punishhim for not remembering what he learned at school, when his mother saidjust what Dormy here said, that everything went in one ear and out of theother. Then they both looked sad, and the mother rubbed her eyes untilthe tears came. I couldn't stand that. If there's one thing in the worldI can't stand it's other people's sorrows. Mine don't amount to much, butother people's do sometimes. I felt so bad for the poor parents that Iracked and racked my brains trying to think of some way to cure the boy. It took me a week, but I got it at last and the next time the boy'sparents talked about it I took the matter in hand. I simply walked out ofthe fireplace where I was and said, 'I hope you will excuse theinterference of an Andiron, ma'am, but I think your boy can be cured ofhis ear trouble. ' 'Noble fellow, ' said the father, after he had got overhis surprise at my unusual behavior. 'What do you suggest?'

"'Put a cork in his other ear, ' said I. 

"And they did, and from that time on the boy never lost a bit ofinformation any one gave him. He grew up to be a dreadfully wise man andwhen he finally died he was known as the human N. Cyclopedia. "

"That was a noble act of yours, " said the Poker. "Did you have the ideapatented?"

"No, " said the Andiron. "I wanted to, but the patent rules require that aworking model should be sent with the request for a patent for the patentoffice to keep, which of course I couldn't do. "

"Why not?" asked Tom. 

"I couldn't get a boy who would consent to spend his life in the showcase. I could get all the corks I wanted, but no boy, and so I had to give itup, " replied Lefty, with a sigh. "I'd have been a rich Andiron today if Icould have had that idea patented. I shouldn't be surprised if I'd havehad enough to have Righty and the Poker and myself goldplated. "

"Oh, well, I wouldn't feel bad about that, " said the Poker. "What's theuse? You're bright as any gold that ever shined and you are quite asuseful. Gold may be worth more than you are, but what of it? The peoplewho bought you are willing to change their gold for you, so that reallyputs you ahead. As for myself I wouldn't be gold if I could. Gold Pokersaren't worth anything as Pokers, and what's more, if I were gold Tom'sfather would lock me up in the safe every night and then I couldn't travelabout the way I do. "

"Never thought of it in that light, " said Lefty. "I'm glad I'm brass, after all. "

"But you were going to tell us a poem, weren't you?" asked Tom. 

"Yes, " said the Poker. "It's a simple little verse, but there is a gooddeal of fine advice in it. All it says is:

 "If you're in doubt if you can do A thing some one has asked you to, Don't sit you down and moan and cry Because you can't, but wink your eye And try. "

"There's good advice enough for a lifetime in that, Dormy, " said theRighthandiron. "And now let's see if we can move the cloud. "

The four little creatures set out at once to push the cloud nearer to theearth so that Tom could see the latter going around more clearly, buttheir efforts were in vain. The cloud wouldn't budge an inch. 

"No use, " said the Poker, panting with his exertion. "There is only onething to do now and that is to send for the Bellows. If he'll come andblow in his usual style we'll have that cloud where we want it in lessthan no time. I'd blow it there myself, for I am a far better blower thanthe Bellows is--my, how I can blow! But I'm out of breath trying to pushthe cloud. "

"I'll run back and get the Bellows, " said Lefty. 

"And I'll go with you, " said Righty. "He may not come for one, but I'msure he will for two. "

"All right, " said the Poker. "Dormy and I will wait here for you; and I'lltell him a story while you're gone. How will that suit you Dormy?"

"First rate, " said Tom. "I like stories. "

"We'll be back soon, " said the Righthandiron, as he and the other startedback after the Bellows. "So make your story short. "

"Very good, " returned the Poker amiably. "I'll make it so short that Dormywill hardly know that it was ever begun. "

And so Tom was left sitting on a big cloud way up in the sky with thePoker--which was indeed a very novel position for a small boy like him tobe in. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Poker Tells His Story

"I suppose, " said the Poker, after the Andirons had passed out of hearingdistance, "I suppose you think it a very extraordinary thing that I, whoam nothing but a Poker, should be satisfied with my lot. Eh?"

"Oh, I don't know, " said Tom, snuggling down on the cloud which he foundto be deliciously soft and comfortable. "If you were a Poker who couldonly poke it might seem queer. But you can talk and sing and travel about. You don't have to do any work in summer time, and in winter you have anice warm spot to stay in all the day long. I don't think it's verystrange. "

"But I'm not different from any other Poker, " said Tom's companion, "Theyall do pretty much what I do except that most of them are always growlingat their hard lot, while I do very little but sing and rejoice that I amwhat I am, and the story I was going to tell you was how I came to be sowell satisfied to be a Poker. Would you like to have me do that, Dormy?"

"Yes, " said Tom. "Very much. Were you always a Poker?"

"Not I, " said the Poker, with a shake of his head. "I've been a Poker onlytwo years. Before that I had been a little of everything. What do yousuppose I began life as?"

"A railroad track, " said Tom, bound to have a guess at the right answer, though he really hadn't the slightest notion that he was correct. 

[Illustration: "A POKER WHO COULD ONLY POKE. "]

"You came pretty near it, " said the Poker, with a smile. "I began life asa boy. "

"I don't see how a boy is pretty near a railroad track, " said Tom. 

"The boy I began life as lived right next door to a railroad, " explainedthe Poker. "See now?"

"Yes, " said Tom. "But why didn't you stay a boy?"

"Because I wasn't contented, " said the Poker, with a sigh. "I ought tohave been, though. I had everything in the world that a boy could want. Myparents were as good to me as they could possibly be. I had all the toys Iwanted. All I could eat--plenty of pudding and other good things as oftenas they were to be had. I had two little sisters, who used to doeverything in the world for me. Plenty of boy friends to play with, and, as I said before, a railroad right next door--and oh, the trains, andtrains, and trains I used to see! It was great fun. I can see, now that Ilook back on it, and yet I never was satisfied. I used to cry my eyes outsometimes because I hadn't wings like a bird, so that I could fly. Atother times I'd get discontented that I couldn't run as fast as a dog--Inever went to bed without feeling envious of somebody or something. 

"Finally one night I'd gone to bed feeling particularly unhappy because abig eagle I had seen flying about in the sky could do things I couldn't. My nurse, thinking I had fallen asleep, went out of the night nursery andleft me alone. Just as she went out of one door the other door opened anda very beautiful lady came in. 

"'Is that you, mama?' I asked. 

"'No, ' said she. 'I am not your mother. I am a Fairy. '

"I had been crying pretty hard, I can tell you, " said the Poker, with ashake of his head, "but as soon as I heard the lady say she was a Fairy mytears dried up as quick as lightning. 

[Illustration: "I am not your mother; I am a fairy. "]

"'I am a Fairy, ' she repeated, coming to the side of my little bed andstroking my forehead kindly. 'My duty is to seek out one discontentedperson each year and see if I can't do something to help him. I have cometo help you if I can. Don't you like being a boy?'

"'Not very much, ' said I. 'It's awfully hard work. I have to go to schoolevery day and learn lots of things I don't care to know about, and most ofthe time I'm kept in an hour or two just because I can't remember how muchseven times two are, or whether c-a-t spells dog or horse, and I don'tlike it. '

"'But you are strong and well. Your father and mother are very good to youand you have more good times than unhappy ones, don't you?'

[Illustration: "DOESN'T HAVE TO LIVE IN A BATHTUB. "]

"'I never counted, ' said I. 'I don't believe I do, though. I'm strong andwell, but so is that eagle I saw today, and he can fly, and I can't. Thenthere's my little dog--he's as well as can be, and my father and motherare kind to him just as they are kind to me. He doesn't have to botherwith school. He's allowed to go anywhere he wants to, and never getsscolded for it. Besides, he doesn't have to be dressed up all the time andlive in a bathtub the way I do. '

"'Then you think you would be happier as Rollo than you are as yourself?'said she. 

"'Very much, ' said I. 

"'Then it shall be so, ' said she. 'Good-by!'

"She went out as quietly as she had come, and I turned over and afterthinking over what she had said I fell asleep. Then the queerest thinghappened. I slept right through until the morning, dreaming the strangestdream you ever heard of. I dreamed that I had been changed into Rollo--andoh, the fun I had! Life was nothing but play and liberty, and then Iwaked. I tried to call my father and tell him I was ready for the morningstory, but what do you suppose I did instead?"

"Give it up, " said Tom. "What?"

"I barked, " said the Poker, "and when I barked I looked down at my feet. Sure enough I was Rollo, and Rollo was I lying asleep in my bed. I was onthe floor at the foot of the bed. Then the nurse came in and slapped mefor barking and I had the pleasure of being sent down stairs to thecellar, while Rollo himself, who had been changed into me went into myfather's room and got the story. "

"Mercy!" said Tom. "I guess you were sorry about that. "

"I was, a little, " said the Poker. "But after I had been down in thecellar an hour or two I saw a beautiful piece of steak in the ice-box andI ate it all up. It wasn't cooked at all, but being a little dog I likedit all the better for that. Then I drank up a panful of milk and had alovely time teasing the cat, until the cook came down, when my troublesbegan. I never knew when I was a boy that Rollo had troubles, but I foundout that day that he had. The cook gave me a terrible whipping because Ihad eaten the steak, and I had hardly recovered from that when Rollo, whowas now what I had been, took me up into the nursery and played with mejust as I had always played with him. He held me up by the tail; heflicked me with his handkerchief; he harnessed me up to a small cart andmade me drag his sisters' doll babies about the room for one whole hour, and then when lunch time came the waitress forgot me and I had to gohungry all the afternoon. Every time I'd try to go into the kitchen thecook would drive me out with a stick for fear I would eat the other thingsin the cellar--and oh, dear, I had a miserable time of it. 

"The worst of it came two or three days later, " continued the Poker. "Itwas Rollo's bath day, and as I was Rollo of course I had to take Rollo'sbath, and my, wasn't it awful! I'd rather take a hundred such baths as Ihad when I was a boy than one like Rollo's. The soap got into my eyes andI couldn't say a word. Then it got into my mouth, and bah! how fearful itwas. After that I was grabbed by all four of my legs and soused into thewater until I thought I should drown, and rubbed until my fur nearly cameoff. 

"I wished then that I had asked the Fairy to leave her address so that Icould send for her and have her come back and let me be a boy again. Allthe fun of being Rollo was spoiled by the woes that were his to bear--woesI had never dreamed of his having until I took his place. 

"I must have been Rollo a month when the Fairy came back one night to seehow I was getting along. Rollo lay asleep in my crib, while I was curledup in a dog basket at the foot of it. 

"'Well, ' said the Fairy as she entered the room, 'how do you both do?'

"'I like it first-rate, ' said Rollo. 'Being a boy is ever so much nicerthan being a dog. '

"'I think so, too, " said I. 'And if you don't mind I'd like to be a boyagain. '

"'What boy do you want to be?' she asked. 

"'What boy?' said I. 'Why, myself, of course. Who else?'

"'What has Rollo to say about that?' said the Fairy, turning to him--and Itell you, Dormy, it made my heart sick to hear that Rollo had anything tosay about it, for there couldn't be much doubt as to how he woulddecide. "

CHAPTER V. 

The Poker Concludes His Story

"It was just as I feared, " said the Poker. "Rollo knew a good thing whenhe had it. "

"'I'm satisfied, the way things are now, ' said he. 'I wouldn't change backand be a Scotch terrier for all the world. '

"Then the Fairy turned to me and said, 'I'm sorry, my dear, but if Rollowon't consent to the change you'll have to be contented to remain as youare--unless you'd like to try being an eagle for a while. '

"'I'll never consent, ' said Rollo, selfishly, though I couldn't reallyblame him for it. 

"'Then make me an eagle, ' I said. 'Make me anything but what I am. '

"'Very well, ' said the Fairy. 'Good-night. '

"Next morning, " continued the Poker, "when I waked up I was cold andstiff, and when I opened my eyes to look about me I found myself seated ona great ledge of rock on the side of a mountain. Far below me were tops ofthe trees in a forest I never remembered to have seen before, while aboveme a hard black wall of rock rose straight up for a thousand feet. Toclimb upward was impossible; to climb down, equally so. 

"'What on earth does this mean?' thought I; and then, in attempting towalk, I found that I had but two legs, where the night before I had fallenasleep with four. 

"'Am I a boy again?' I cried with delight. 

"'No, ' said a voice from way below me in the trees. 'You are now an eagleand I hope you will be happy. '

"You never were an eagle, were you, Dormy?" said the Poker, gazingearnestly into Tom's face. 

"No, " said Tom, "never. I've never been any kind of bird. "

[Illustration: "EAGLES NEVER HAVE UMBRELLAS. "]

"Well, don't you ever be one, " said the Poker, with a knowing shake of thehead. "It's all very beautiful to think about, but being an eagle isentirely different from what thinking about it is. I was that eagle forone whole month, and the life of a Scotch terrier is bliss alongside ofit. In the first place it was fight, fight, fight for food. It was lots offun at first jumping off the crag down a thousand feet into the valley, but flying back there to get out of the way of the huntsmen was worse thanpulling a sled with rusty runners up a hill a mile long. Then, when stormscame up I had to sit up there on that mountain side and take 'em all asthey came. I hadn't any umbrella--eagles never have--to keep off therain; and no walls except on one side, to keep off the wind, and noshutters to close up so that I couldn't see the lightning. It wasterrible. All I got to eat in the whole month was a small goat and achicken hawk, and those I had to swallow wool, feathers and all. Then Igot into fights with other eagles, and finally while I was looking forlunch in the forest I fell into a trap and was caught by some men who putme in a cage so that people could come to see me. "

"Ever been shut up in a cage?" queried the Poker at this point. 

"No, " said Tom, "only in a dark closet. "

"Never had to stay shut up, though, more than ten minutes, did you?"

"No, " answered Tom, "never. "

"Well, think of me cooped up in an old cage for two weeks!" said thePoker. "That was woe enough for a lifetime, but it wasn't half what I hadaltogether. The other creatures in the Zoo growled and shrieked all nightlong; none of us ever got a quarter enough to eat, and several times themonkey in the cage next to me would reach his long arm into my prison andyank out half a dozen of my feathers at once. In fact, I had nothing butmishaps all the time. As the poet says:

 "Talk about your troubles, Talk about your woes, Yours are only bubbles, Sir, compared with those. 

"At the end of two weeks I was nearly frantic. I don't think I could havestood it another week--but fortunately at the end of the month back camethe Fairy again. 

"'How do you like being an eagle?' she said. 

"'I'd rather be a tree rooted to the ground in the midst of a dense forestthan all the eagles in the world, ' said I. 

"'Very well, ' said she. 'It shall be so. Good-night. '

"In the morning I was a tree--and if there is anything worse than being adog or an eagle it's being a tree, " said the Poker. "I could hearprocessions going by with fine bands of music in the distance, but Icouldn't stir a step to see them. Boys would come along and climb up intomy branches and shake me nearly to pieces. Cows came and chewed up myleaves, and one day the wood-cutters came and were just about to cut medown when the Fairy appeared again and sent them away. 

"'They will be back again tomorrow, ' she said. 'Do you wish to remain atree?'

"'No, no, no, ' I cried. 'I'll be content to be anything you choose if youwill save me from them. '

"'There, ' she said. 'That's the point. If you will keep that promise youwill finally be happy. If you will only look on the bright side of things, remembering the pleasant and forgetting the unpleasant, you will be happy. If you will be satisfied with what you are and have and not go aboutswelling up with envy whenever you see anyone or anything that has or cando things that you have not or cannot do, you will be happy in spite ofyourself. Will you promise me this?'

"'Indeed I will, ' I said. 

"'Even if I change you into so poor a thing as a Poker?'

"'Yes, ' said I. 

[Illustration: "ONE DAY THE WOODCUTTERS CAME. "]

"'Very well, ' said she. 'It shall be so. Good-night. '

"Next morning I waked up to find myself as you see--nothing more than aPoker, but contented to be one. I have kept my promise with the Fairy, andI am simply the happiest thing in the world. I don't sit down and groanbecause I have to poke the fire. On the contrary, when I am doing that I'malways thinking how nice it will be when I get done and I lean up againstthe rack and gaze on all the beautiful things in the room. I always thinkabout the pleasant things, and if you don't know it, Dormy, let me tellyou that that's the way to be happy and to make others happy. Sometimespeople think me vain. The Fender told me one night I was the vainestcreature he ever knew. I'm not really so. I only will not admit that thereis anything or anybody in the world who is more favored than I am. That isall. If I didn't do that I might sometime grow a little envious in spiteof myself. As it is I never do and haven't had an unhappy hour since Ibecame a contented Poker. "

Tom was silent for a few minutes after the Poker had completed his story, and then he said:

"Don't you sometimes feel unhappy because you are not the boy you used tobe?"

"No, " said the Poker. "I am not because Rollo makes a better boy than Iwas. He is a contented boy and I was not. "

"But don't you miss your father and mother?" queried Tom. 

"Of course not, " said the Poker, "because the Fairy was good enough tohave me made into the Poker used in their new house. My parents moved awayfrom the railroad just after Rollo became me, and built themselves a newhouse, and of course they had to have a new Poker to go with it--so Ireally live home, you see, with them. "

A curious light came into Tom's eyes. 

"Mr. Poker, " said he. "Who was this boy you used to be?"

"Tom, " said the Poker. 

"I'm not Rollo, " roared Tom, starting up. 

"Nobody said you were, " retorted the Poker. "You are Dormy. Tom isRollo--but, I say, here come the Andirons and the Bellows. "

Tom looked down from the cloud, and sure enough the three were coming upas fast as the wind, and in the excitement of the moment the littletraveler forgot all about the Poker's story, in which he seemed himself tohave figured without knowing it. 

[Illustration: "SO I REALLY LIVE HOME. "]

CHAPTER VI. 

The Literary Bellows

"What kept you so long?" asked the Poker, as the Andiron and Bellows cameup. "Was our friend Bellows out of breath, or what?"

"No, I wasn't out of breath, " said the Bellows. "I never am out of breath. You might as well expect a groceryman to be out of groceries as a bellowsto be out of breath. I wasn't long, either--at least, no longer thanusual, which is two foot three. A longer bellows than that would beuseless for our purpose. I simply didn't want to come, that's all. I wasvery busy writing when they interrupted me. "

"It was very kind of you to come when you didn't want to, " said Tom. 

"No, it wasn't, " said the Bellows. "I didn't want to come then, I don'twant to be here now, and I wouldn't blow the cloud an inch for you if Ididn't have to. "

"But why do you have to?" asked Tom. 

"I'm outvoted, that's all, " replied the Bellows. "You see, my dearWeasel"--

"Dormouse, " whispered the Poker. 

"I mean Dormouse, " said the Bellows, correcting himself. "You see, Ibelieve in everybody having a say in regard to everything. I always haveeverything I can put to a vote. Consequently, when Righty here came downand asked me to help blow the cloud over and I said that I wouldn't do ithe called Lefty in, and we put it to a vote as to whether I'd have to ornot. They voted that I must and I voted that I needn't, and, of course, that beat me; so here I am. "

"Well, it's very good of you, just the same, " said the Poker. "You aren'tquite as good-natured as I am, but you come pretty near it. Most peoplewould have left a matter of that kind entirely to themselves and thenvoted the way they felt like voting. You aren't selfish, anyhow. "

"Yes, I am, " said the Bellows. "I'm awfully selfish. "

"You're not, either, " said the Poker. 

"Oh, goodness!" ejaculated the Bellows. "What's the use of fighting? I sayI am. "

[Illustration: "WHAT'S THE USE OF FIGHTING?"]

"Let's have a vote on it, " said Righty. "I vote he isn't. "

"So do I, " said Tom. 

"Me, too, " said Lefty. 

"Those are my sentiments likewise, " put in the Poker. 

"Oh, very well, then, I'm not, " said the Bellows, with a deep drawn sigh;"but I do wish you'd let me have my own way about some things. I want tobe selfish, even if I'm not. "

"Well, we are very sorry, " said the Poker, "but we can't let you be; weneed you too much to permit you to be selfish. Besides, you're too good afellow to be selfish. I knew a boy who was selfish once, and he got intoall sorts of trouble. Nobody liked him, and once when he gave a big dinnerto a lot of other boys not one of them would come, and he had to eat allthe dinner himself. The result was that he overate himself, ruined hisdigestion, and all the rest of his life had to do without pies and cakeand other good things. It served him right, too. Do you think we are goingto let you be like that, Mr. Bellows?"

"I suppose not, " said the Bellows, "but stories about selfish boys don'tfrighten me. I'm a bellows, not a boy. I don't give dinners and I don'teat pie and cake. Plain air is good enough for me, and I wouldn't give acent for all the other good eatables in the world except doughnuts. I likedoughnuts because, after all, they are only bellows cakes. But come, let'shurry up with the cloud. I want to get back to my desk. I have a poem tofinish before breakfast. "

This statement interested Tom hugely. He had read many a book, but neverbefore had he met a real author, and even if the Bellows had been a man, so long as he was a writer, Tom would have looked upon him with awe. 

"Excuse me, " he said hesitatingly, as the Bellows began to wheeze away atthe cloud, "do you really write?"

[Illustration: "I blow a story or two, now and then. "]

"Well, no, " said the Bellows. "No, I don't write, but I blow a story ortwo now and then. You see, I can't write because I haven't any hands, butI can wheeze out a tale to a stenographer once in a while which anymagazine would be glad to publish if it could get hold of it. One of mystories called Sparks blew into a powder magazine once and it made atremendous noise in the world when it came out. "

"I wish you would tell me one, " said Tom. 

"Are you a stenographer?" asked the Bellows. 

"No, " said Tom, "but I like stories just the same. "

"Well, " said the Bellows, "I'll tell you one about Jimmie Tompkins and thered apple. "

"Hurrah!" cried Tom. "I love red apples. "

"So did Jimmie Tompkins, " said the Bellows, "and that's why he died. Heate a red apple while it was green and it killed him. "

There was a pause for an instant, and the Bellows redoubled his efforts tomove the cloud, which for some reason or other did not stir easily. 

"Go ahead, " said Tom, when he thought he had waited long enough for theBellows to resume. 

"What on?" asked the Bellows. 

"On your story about Jimmie Tompkins and the red apple, " Tom answered. 

"Why, I've told you that story, " retorted the Bellows. "Jimmie ate the redapple and died. What more do you want? That's all there is to it. "

"It isn't a very long story, " suggested Tom, ruefully, for he was muchdisappointed. 

"Well, why should it be?" demanded the Bellows. "A story doesn't have tobe long to be good, and as long as it is all there--"

"I know, " said Tom; "but in most stories there's a lot of things put inthat help to make it interesting. "

"All padding!" sneered the Bellows, "and that I will never do. If a storycan be told in five words what's the use of padding it out to fivethousand?"

"None, " said Tom, "except that you can't make a book out of a story offive words. "

"Oh, yes, you can, " said the Bellows, airily. "It isn't any trouble at allif you only know how, and in the end you have a much more useful book thanif you made it a million words long. You can print the five words on thefirst page and leave the other five hundred pages blank, so that after youget through with the volume as a story book you can use it for a blankbook or a diary. Most books nowadays are so full of story that when youget through with them there isn't anything else you can do with the book. "

"It's a new idea, " said Tom, with a laugh. 

"And all my own invention, too, " said the Bellows proudly. 

"He's the most inventive Bellows that ever was, " put in the Poker, "thatis, in a literary way. How many copies of your book of 'Unwritten Poems'did you sell, Wheezy?" he added. 

"Eight million, " returned the Bellows. "That was probably my greatestliterary achievement. "

"'Unwritten Poems, ' eh?" said Tom, to whom the title seemed curious. 

"Yes, " said the Bellows. "The book had three hundred pages, all nicelybound--twenty-six lines to a page--and each beginning with a capitalletter, just as poetry should. Then, so as to be quite fair to all theletters, I began with A and went right straight through the alphabet toZ. "

"But the poems?" demanded Tom. 

"They were unwritten just as the title said, " returned the Bellows. "Yousee that left everything to the imagination, which is a great thing inpoetry. "

"Didn't people complain?" Tom asked. 

"Everybody did, " replied the Bellows, "but that was just what I wanted. Iagreed to answer every complaint accompanied by ten cents in postagestamps. Eight million complaints alone brought me in $480, 000 over andabove all expenses, which were four cents per complaint. "

"But what was your answer?" demanded Tom. 

"I merely told them that my book stood upon its own merits, and that ifthey didn't like my unwritten poems they could write some of their own onthe blank pages of the book. It was a perfectly fair proposition, " theBellows replied. 

"I think I like written poetry best, though, " said Tom. 

"That's entirely a matter of taste, " said the Bellows, "and I shan't findfault with you for that. The only thing is that Unwritten Poems are apt tohave fewer faults than the written ones, and every great poet will tellyou that nobody ever detected any mistakes in his poems until he had putthem down on paper. If he had left them unwritten nobody would ever haveknown how bad they were. "

Tom scratched his head in a puzzled mood. He could not quite grasp theBellows' meaning. 

"What do you think about it, Righty?" he demanded of the Andiron. 

"Oh, I don't think anything about it, " replied Righty. "I haven't watchedpoetry much. You see, Lefty and I don't see much of it. People light firesnowadays more with newspapers than with poetry. "

"What I've seen burns well, " observed the Lefthandiron, "and don't makemuch ashes to get into your eyes; but, say, Wheezy, if you'll do yourblowing about this cloud rather than about your poetry we may getsomewhere. "

"Very well, " said the Bellows; "fasten your hats on tight and turn up yourcollars. I'm going to give you a regular tornado. "

And he was as good as his word, for, expanding himself to the utmostlimit, he gave a tremendous wheeze, which nearly blew Tom from his perch, sent his cap flying off into space and smashed the cloud into fourseparate pieces, one of which, bearing the Poker, floated rapidly off tothe north, while the other three sped south, east and west, respectively. 

[Illustration: "HE GAVE A TREMENDOUS WHEEZE. "]

"Hi, there, " cried Righty, as he perceived the damage done to their fleecychariot. "What are you up to? We don't want to be blown to the fourcorners of the earth. Pull in--pull in, for goodness sake, or we'll neverget together again!"

"There's no satisfying you fellows, " growled the Bellows. "First I don'tblow enough, and then I blow too much. "

"Stop growling and haul us back again!" cried the Poker. 

The Bellows began to haul in his breath rapidly, and by a process ofsuction soon had the four parts of the burst cloud back together oncemore. 

"By jingo!" panted Lefty. "That was a narrow escape. Two seconds more andthis party would have been a goner. Even as it is, you've twisted my neckso I'll never get it back in shape again, " said the Righthandiron. 

"Well, I'm sorry, " said the Bellows, "but it's all your own fault. Youasked me to blow the cloud, and I blew it. You didn't say where you wantedit blown. "

"You needn't have blown it to smithereens, just the same!" retorted thePoker. "It doesn't cost anything to ask a question now and then. "

"Where, then?" demanded the Bellows. 

"I'd like to find my hat, " said Tom. 

"Very well, " said the Bellows. "I see it speeding off toward the moon, andwe'll chase after it, but we'll never catch it if it misses the moon andfalls past it into space. "

The Poker rose to his full height and peered after the cap, which, even asthe Bellows had said, was sailing rapidly off in the direction of thecrescent moon, which lay to the west and below them. 

"Hurrah!" he cried. "It's all right. "

"Can you see it still?" asked Tom, anxiously, for his cap was made ofsealskin and he didn't wish to lose it. 

"Yes, it's all right, " said the Poker. "It nearly missed, but not quite. If you will look through these glasses you will see it. "

The Poker handed Tom a pair of strong field glasses and the lad, gazinganxiously through them, was delighted to see his wandering cap hanging, asif on a great golden hook in the sky beneath them, and which was nothingmore than the last appearance of the moon itself. 

"Good!" cried the Righthandiron. "That settles the question for us ofwhere we shall go next. There is no choice left. We'll go to the moon. Heave ahead, Wheezy. "

Whereupon the Bellows began to blow, at first gently, then stronger andstronger, and yet more strongly still, until the cloud was moving rapidlyin the direction they desired. 

CHAPTER VII. 

They Reach the Crescent Moon

As the jolly party sped along through the heavens Tom began to find hiseyes bothering him a trifle. Brilliant as many of the sunshiny days hadbeen at home, particularly when the snow was on the ground, nothing sodazzlingly bright as this great golden arc in the sky was getting to be, as they approached closer, had ever greeted his sight. 

"It's blinding!" he cried, his eyes blinking and filling with water as hegazed upon the scene. "I can't stand it. What shall I do, Lefty?"

"Turn your head around and approach it backward, " said Lefty. "Then youwon't see it. "

"But I want to see it, " retorted Tom. "What's the use of visiting the moonif you can't see it?"

"Reminds me of a poem I wrote once, " put in the Poker. "'What's the Use?'was one of my masterpieces, and maybe if I recite it to you it will helpyour eyes. "

"Bosh!" growled the Bellows, who was beginning to get a littleshort-winded with his labors, and, therefore, a trifle out of temper. "Howon earth will reciting your poem help Tom's eyes?"

"Easy enough, " returned the Poker haughtily and with a contemptuous glanceat the Bellows. "My poem is so much brighter than the moon that the moonwill seem dull alongside of it. "

"Go ahead anyhow, " said Tom, interested at once and forgetting his eyesfor the moment. "Give us the poem. "

"Here goes, then, " said the Poker, with a low bow and then, standingerect, he began. "It's called

 WHAT'S THE USE. 

 What's the use of circuses that haven't any beasts? What's the use of restaurants that haven't any feasts?

 What's the use of oranges that haven't any peels? What's the use of bicycles that haven't any wheels?

 What's the use of railway trains that have no place to go? What's the use of going to war if you haven't any foe?

 What's the use of splendid views for those that cannot see? What's the use of freedom's flag to folks that aren't free?

 What's the use of legs to those who have no wish to walk? What's the use of languages to those who cannot talk?

 What's the use of kings and queens that haven't any throne? What's the use of having pains unless you're going to groan?

 What's the use of anything, however grand and good, That doesn't ever, ever work the way it really should?"

"Humph!" panted the Bellows, "you don't call that bright, do you?"

"I do, indeed, " said the Poker. "And I call it bright because I know it'sbright. It is so bright that not a magazine in all the world dare printit, because they'd never be able to do as well again, and people would saythe magazine wasn't as good as it used to be. "

"What nonsense, " retorted the Bellows. "Why, I could blow a mile of poetrylike that in ten minutes:

 What's the use of churches big that haven't any steeples? What's the use of nations great that haven't any peoples?

 What's the use of oceans grand that haven't any beaches? What's the use of Delawares that haven't any peaches?

 What's the use--"

"O, shut up Wheezy, " interrupted the Poker angrily. "Of course you can goon like that forever, once somebody gives you the idea, but to have theidea in the beginning was the big thing. Columbus was a great man forcoming to America, but every foreigner who has come over since isn't, notby a long shot. As I say in my celebrated rhyme on "Greatness":

 The greatest man in all the world, by far the greatest one, Is he who goes ahead and does what no one else has done. But he must be the first if he would rank as some "potaters, " For those who follow after him are merely imitators. 

[Illustration: "COLUMBUS WAS A GREAT MAN. "]

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Bellows. "You are a great chap, Pokey--you, withyour poetry. I hope Tom isn't going to be affected by the lessons youteach. The idea of saying that a man is the greatest man in the worldbecause he does what no one else has done! I guess nobody's never eatenbricks up to now. Do you mean to say that if Tom here ate a brick he'd bethe greatest man in the world?"

"No; he'd be a cannibal, " put in the Righthandiron, desirous of stoppingthe quarrel between the rivals. 

"How do you make that out?" demanded the Bellows. 

"Because Tom is a brick himself, " explained the Righthandiron; and justthen slap! bang! the party plunged head first into what appeared tobe--and in fact really was--a huge snowbank. 

"Hurrah! Here we are!" cried Lefty, gleefully. 

"Wh-where are we?" Tom sputtered, blowing the snow out of his mouth andshaking it from his coat and hair and ears. 

"Hi, there! Look out!" roared Righty, grabbing Tom by the coat sleeve andyanking him off to one side. A terrible swishing sound fell upon the lad'sears, and as he gazed doggedly about him to see what had caused it he sawa great golden toboggan whizzing down into the valley, and then slippingup the hill on the other side. 

"You had a narrow escape that time, " said Righty, as they excitedlywatched the toboggan speeding on its way, and which, by the way, wasfilled with a lot of little youngsters no bigger than Tom himself, children of all colors, apparently, red, white and blue, green, yellow andblack. "If I hadn't yanked you away you'd have been run over. "

"But where are we?" Tom asked, bewildered by the experience. 

"We're on the Crescent Moon at last, " said Lefty. "It's the boss tobogganslide of the universe. "

"A toboggan slide?" cried Tom. 

"The very same, " said the Poker. "Didn't you know that this dazzlingwhiteness of the Crescent Moon is merely the reflection of the sun's lighton the purest of pure white snow? It's too high up for dust and dirt here, you see, and so the snow is always clean, and so, equally of course, isdazzling white. "

"But the tobogganing?" asked Tom. 

"It's like swinging and letting the old cat die, " explained theRighthandiron. "You see, it's this shape, " and he marked the crescent formof the moon on the snow and lettered the various points. 

"Now, " he continued, "you start your toboggan at A and whizz down to C. When you get there you have gathered speed enough to take you up the hillto B. Then of its own weight the toboggan slides back to D, from which itagain moves forward to E, and so it keeps on sliding back and forth untilfinally it comes to a dead stop at C. Isn't that a fine arrangement?"

"Magnificent, " said Tom. "And do they call it tobogganing here?"

"No, " said Righty, "it's called oscillating, and the machine is known asthe oscycle"--

"Don't confound it with the icicle, " put in the Bellows. 

"Oh, I know what an icicle is, " said Tom. "It's a spear of ice that hangsfrom a piazza roof. "

"That's what it is at home, " said the Poker, "but not here, my lad. Herean icicle is a bicycle with runners instead of wheels. "

"But what makes it go?" demanded Tom. 

"Pedals, of course, " returned the Poker. "You just tread away on thepedals, as if you were riding on a bicycle, and the chain sets a dozen icepicks revolving that shove you over the ice like the wind. Oh, it's greatsport!"

[Illustration: "YOU SEE, IT'S THIS SHAPE. "]

Another rush and roar of a passing toboggan caused them to pause in theirconversation for a moment, and then Tom turned his attention to thediagram Righty had drawn on the snow. 

"Suppose you didn't stop at B and go back--what would happen?" he asked ashe considered the possible dangers of this wonderful new sport. 

"You'd fall over the edge, of course, " said the Poker. 

"I see that, " said Tom. "But if you fell over the edge what would becomeof you? Where would you land?"

"If you had luck you wouldn't land anywhere, " said Righty. "The chancesare, however, you'd fall back on the earth again. Maybe in Canada, possibly in China, perhaps in Egypt. It would all depend on the time ofnight. "

"And wouldn't you be killed?" Tom asked. 

"Not if you had your rubbers on, " said Righty. "If you had your rubbers onit would only jar you slightly. You'd just hit the earth and then bounceback again, but there's no use of talking about that, because it neverhappened but once. It happened to a chap named Blenkinson, who took anOscillator that hadn't any brake on it. He was one of those smart fellowsthat want to show how clever they are. He whizzed down one side and up theother, and pouf! First thing he knew he was flying off into space. "

"And what became of him?" demanded Tom. 

"He had the luck not to hit anything, but he suffered just the same, " saidRighty. "He flew on until he got to a point where he was held fast up inthe air by the force of gravity of 1, 600 different planets, and he's thereyet. At a distance he looks like another new star, but when you get closeto him he's nothing more than just a plain, everyday Smarty. "

"I should think he'd starve to death, " said Tom, as he reflected on thehorrid fate of Blenkinson. 

"He would if he had any appetite, " said the Bellows. "But he hasn't. He'sso worried all the time that he can't eat, so he gets along very wellwithout food. "

"Let's quit talking now, " suggested the Poker, "and get a ride, eh?"

"I'm ready, " said Tom eagerly. "Where do we start?"

"There's the station up on the hill. It's only about 700 miles. We canwalk it in a year, " said Righty. 

"I move we take this cloud that's coming up, " said the Bellows. "I'mwinded. "

Tom looked in the direction in which the Bellows had pointed, and, sureenough, there was a cloud coming slowly along, shaped very much like atrolley car, and on the front of it, as it drew nearer, the lad was soonable to discern the funny little figure of a Brownie acting as motorman. 

"Why, it's really a trolley!" he cried. 

[Illustration: "Why it's really a trolley!"]

"Certainly it is!" laughed Righty. "Didn't you know that? When you havewatched the moon from your window at home and seen constant lines ofclouds passing up to it and stopping before its face night after nightwhat did you suppose they did it for? Fun? I guess not. They're cleverpeople up here, these moonfolk are, and they make use of everything going. They've taken these electric clouds and turned 'em into a sort of SkyTraction Company, and instead of letting 'em travel all around theuniverse doing nothing and raising thunder generally, some of the richerBrownies have formed a company to control them. "

By this time the cloud had reached the point where our little party stood, and the motorman, in response to the Bellows' signal, brought it to astandstill. 

"Step lively, please, " the conductor cried from the rear end. 

Tom and the two Andirons and the Poker and Bellows clambered aboard. 

The conductor clanged a bell. The motorman turned his wheel and the cloudmoved rapidly on. 

And what a queer crowd of folks there were on board that strange trolleycloud. Tom had never seen such an interesting group before. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

On the Trolley Cloud. 

As I stated at the end of the last chapter, the travelers Tom and hiscompanions encountered upon the Trolley cloud were a wonderful lot. In thefirst place, the whole situation was strange. Here was, in fact, a perfectcar, made of what at a distance looked to be nothing but a fleecy bit ofvapor. It had seats and signs--indeed, the advertising signs alone wereenough to occupy the mind of any person seeing them for the first time tothe exclusion of all else, what with the big painted placard at the end, saying:

 FOR POLAR BEARS GO TO ARCTICS FIFTY-SEVEN VARIETIES. No Home Complete Without Them. 

Another showing a picture of Potted Town, in which all the inhabitantslived on canned food and things that came in jars, reading:

 This is the famous Potted Town, Where everything is done up brown, We live on lobsters tinned, and beans, And freshly caught and oiled sardines; On ham and eggs done up in jars, And caramels that come in bars, Come buy a lot in Potted Town, And join the throngs we do up brown. A corner lot for fifty cents--

 A bargain that is just immense. An inner lot for forty-nine For residence is just divine. If in a year you do not find That we are suited to your mind We'll give you fifteen cents in gold, And take back all the lots we've sold, If, when in other lands you go You'll recommend Soapolio. 

"Who on earth wants a Polar Bear at home?" ejaculated Tom as he read thefirst. 

"I do, " growled a deep bass voice at his side, and the little traveler, turning to see who it was that had spoken, was surprised and reallystartled to find himself seated next to a shaggy-coated beast of thatprecise kind. "I do, " repeated the Polar Bear, "and if anybody says Idon't I'll chew him up, " and then he opened his mouth and glared at Tom asif to warn the young man from pursuing the subject further. 

"So would I, " put in Righty. "So would I if all the Polar Bears were likeyou. "

The bear was apparently pleased by the compliment and, with a satisfiedwink at Righty, folded his fore legs over his chest and went to sleep. 

"I think I'll buy one of those lots in Potted Town, " said a Kangaroo whosat opposite to Tom. 

"You couldn't raise the money, " growled a Flamingo who sat at the far endof the car. "Thirty cents is your measure. "

"Let him alone, Flammy, " said an Ostrich who was crowded uncomfortably inbetween the Kangaroo and an old gentleman with one eye and a green beardwho, Tom learned later, was a leading citizen of Saturn. "He can't help itif he's poor. "

"Thank you, Mr. Ostrich, " said the Kangaroo, with a sob. "I was very muchhurt by the Flamingo's remark. I have 19, 627 children, and it keeps mejumping all the time to support them. "

[Illustration: "IT KEEPS ME JUMPING ALL THE TIME. "]

"I apologize, " said the Flamingo. "My observations were most unjust. Youdo not look like thirty cents at all, as I perceive at second glance. As Ilook at you more closely you look like a $1. 39 marked down to seventy-two. But why don't you get up and give the lady your seat?"

"Is there a lady on the car who wants it?" asked the Kangaroo, standingup, and peering anxiously about him. 

"No, of course not, " said the Flamingo, "but what difference does thatmake? A true gentleman is polite whether there are ladies present or not. "

The Polar Bear opened his eyes and leaning forward glared at theFlamingo. 

"You don't seem to be over-anxious about yourself, " he growled. "Why don'tyou give up your seat to the imaginary lady?"

"Because, Mr. Bear, " the Flamingo returned, "it would not be polite. Theseat I occupy is extremely uncomfortable, thanks to the crowding of theHippopotamus on my left and the indulgence in peanuts of the Monkey on myright. By sitting down where I am, I am making a personal sacrifice. "

"There'll be a free fight in a minute, " said the Poker, anxiously. "Ithink we'd better get out. "

"You won't do anything of the sort, " said the Conductor. "Nobody leavesthis car until we get there. "

"Get where?" demanded the Poker. 

"Anywhere, " returned the Conductor. "Fares, please. "

"But we've all paid, " said the Flamingo. 

"Somebody hasn't, " replied the Conductor. "There are twenty-two on thiscar and I've collected only twenty-one fares. I don't know who is thedeadhead. Therefore you must all pay. It is better that there should betwenty-one lawsuits for a total damage of $1. 25 than that this companyshould lose a nickel. Juries disagree. Fares, please. "

"I decline to pay a second time, " cried the Monkey. 

"And I--and I, " came from all parts of the car; from Lefty and Righty, from Tom, the Flamingo, the Hippopotamus and Polar Bear. 

"Very well, " said the Conductor, calmly. "I don't care. It isn't my moneythat's lost, but I'll tell you one thing, this car doesn't stop untilyou've all paid up!"

"What!" cried the Polar Bear. "I want to get off at the Toboggan slide. "

"So do I--so do I, " cried everybody. 

"No doubt, " said the Conductor; "but that's your business, not mine. Double your speed, Moty, " he added, calling forward to the Motorman. "These people want to get off. Of course, gentlemen and fellow beasts, " hecontinued, "I can't keep you from getting off, but this car is travelingat the rate of four miles a minute, and if you try it, you do so at yourown risk. Fares, please. "

"It's an outrage!" said the Flamingo. 

"I'm going to jump, " said the Kangaroo. 

"I think we'd better sit still, Tom, " whispered Righty. "It would besmithereens if we tried to get off the car going at this rate. "

"Don't mind me, " said Tom. "I'm having a bully time. This is quite as goodfun as oscillating, I guess. "

"Excuse me, sir, " said the Conductor, in reply to the Kangaroo, "but Imust ask your name and address. I cannot prevent you from jumping, but I'mrequired by the rules of the company to find out all about you beforeletting you commit suicide. We need the information in case your heirs suethe company. Married?"

"Yes, " said the Kangaroo. "Sixteen times. "

"Any children?" queried the Conductor. 

"I have already said so, " sobbed the Kangaroo; "19, 627 of them. "

"Boys or girls?" asked the Conductor kindly. 

"Neither, " replied the Kangaroo. 

"What?" cried the Conductor. 

"Kangaroos, every one of 'em, " sobbed the unhappy passenger. 

"O, I see, " said the Conductor, "What is your business?"

"Jumping, " replied the Kangaroo. 

"Business address?" demanded the Conductor. 

"Number 28 Australia, " was the reply. 

"Home address?" questioned the Conductor. 

"Number 37 Melbourne, " said the Kangaroo. "Melbourne is in Australia, youknow, " he added. 

"Made your will?" put in the Conductor, suddenly. 

"What has that got to do with it?" cried the Kangaroo, angrily, but with anervous start. 

"We cannot permit you to jump unless you've made a will, " said theConductor, politely. "You see, when you jump you leave the car, and wedon't know whom you leave the car to until we have read your will. Youmight leave it to Tom or to Righty, or to the poetic Poker--or to oldShaggy over there, "--pointing to the Polar Bear. "Inasmuch as it's our carwe have a right to know to whom you leave it. "

"I guess I'll stay where I am, " said the Kangaroo meekly, very muchovercome by the Conductor's logic. 

"That's the answer, " returned the Conductor. "You seem to be a verysensible sort of Kangaroo. Fare, please!" And the Kangaroo, diving downinto his pocket, produced a five-cent piece, which he handed over to theConductor without further comment. 

"Anybody else think of jumping off?" asked the Conductor pleasantly, turning about and glancing over the other occupants of the car. 

"I might, " said the Monkey, placidly. 

"O, indeed, " said the Conductor, walking along the car to where the Monkeysat. "You might think of jumping off, eh?"

"Yes, " said the Monkey. 

"Do you know where you would land?"

"Yes, " said the Monkey. 

"Where?" demanded the Conductor. 

"On my feet, " said the Monkey. "Where else?"

The Conductor was apparently much put out. 

"You're pretty smart, aren't you?" he said. 

"No, " said the Monkey. "I'm only plain smart. I'm not pretty. "

"Everybody's talking about you? I presume, " sneered the Conductor. 

"Not yet, but they will be, " returned the Monkey, with a grin. 

"When?" demanded the Conductor. 

"When my tail is published, " retorted the Monkey, with a grin. 

"Humph!" jeered the Conductor. "Great tail that. "

"No, " said the Monkey, "not very great, but it has a swing about it--"

"Say, " interrupted the Hippopotamus, "I've got an idea. Somebody hasn'tpaid his fare, eh?"

"That's the point, " said the Conductor. 

"And unless he owns up we've all got to go on in this car forever?"

"You have, " replied the Conductor, firmly. 

"Well, let's be sensible about it, " said the Hippopotamus. "We're allhonest--at least I am--and I've paid once, and I admit I'm riding cheapconsidering my weight. But who hasn't paid? Tom, did you pay?"

"I paid for our whole party, " put in Righty. 

"Good, " said the Hippopotamus. "Did you pay, Monk?"

"Yes, I did, " said the Monkey. "I paid for me and Polar Bear. "

"Good, " said the Hippopotamus. "Has the Flamingo paid?"

"I gave him a promissory note for my fare, " said the Flamingo. 

"Good, " said the Hippopotamus. "And now for the main question. Conductor, have you paid your fare?"

"I?" cried the Conductor. 

"Yes, you!" roared the Hippopotamus, "Have you paid your fare?"

"But--" the Conductor began. 

"I won't but, " returned the Hippo. "I'm a Hippopotamus, I am. Not a goat. Have you paid your fare?"

"Of course I haven't, " returned the Conductor, "because--"

"That's it!" returned the Hippopotamus. "That's the whole point. He's theone that's shy, and because we won't consent to pay his fare out of ourown pockets he's going to hold us up. I move we squash him. "

"But I say, " roared the Conductor. 

"Oh, pay your fare and shut up, " growled the Polar Bear, "You began therow. What's the use?"

"Hear 'em quoting my poem, " whispered the Poker to Tom. 

"I've taken his number, " said the Flamingo. "It's eight billion and seven. He's trying to beat his way. "

"Pay up, pay up, " came from all parts of the car, and before he knew itTom found himself in the midst of an angry group surrounding theConductor, insisting that he should pay his fare. 

"Who are you that you should ride free?" demanded the Flamingo. "The ideaof servants of the company having greater privileges than the patrons ofthe road!"

[Illustration: "I HAVEN'T THE MONEY. "]

"If you don't pay up right away, " roared the Polar Bear, "I'll squeeze youto death. "

"And I'll sit on you, " put in the Hippopotamus. 

"I haven't the money, " cried the Conductor, now thoroughly frightened. 

"Borrow it from the company, " said the Polar Bear, "and ring it up. "

This the Conductor did, and a moment later, having reached the station, rang the bell, and the car stopped. 

"All out!" he cried, and the whole party descended. 

"Who paid his fare, anyhow?" asked the Flamingo. 

"I didn't, " said the Monkey. 

"No more did I, " said the Hippopotamus. "The Kangaroo did, though. Didn'tyou, Kangy?"

"Only once, " said the Kangaroo, "and that was the second time. "

"Let's get away from this crowd, " said the Bellows. "They're not honest. "

"Right you are, " said the Polar Bear. "They're a very bad lot. Come along;let's get aboard this toboggan, and leave 'em behind. "

Whereupon Tom and his companions, accompanied by the Polar Bear, steppedaboard the waiting Oscycle, and were soon speeding down the upper inclineof the Crescent Moon. 

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. 

[Illustration: 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. "

[Illustration: "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. 

[Illustration: 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 him. 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!"

[Illustration: 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, Know they're the pies Sam couldn't eat-- The only pies upon this orb A healthy boy could not absorb. 

[Illustration: "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. "

[Illustration: 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?"

[Illustration: "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. 

[Illustration]

The End