Part 17 (1/2)
said Geoff, catching sight of the name of the first chapter. Aunt Elinor smiled and began to read about
THE LITTLE HOUSE IN THE GARDEN.
I. BEARS.
A brown bear was the first tenant; in fact, it was built for him, and this is the way it happened:--
A man and his wife were driving through the woods up among the mountains, and hearing a queer sound looked about them till they spied two baby bears in a tree.
”Those must be the cubs of the old bear that was killed last week,” said Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k, much interested all at once.
”Poor little things! how will they get on without their mother? They look half scared to death, and cry like real babies,” said the kind woman.
”They will starve if we don't take care of them. I'll shake them down; you catch them in your shawl and we'll see what we can do for them.”
So Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k climbed up the tree, to the great dismay of the two orphans, who growled funny little growls and crept as far out on the branch as they dared.
”Shake easy, John, or they will fall and be killed,” cried the wife, holding out her shawl for this new kind of fruit to fall into.
Down they came, one after the other, and at first were too frightened to fight; so Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k got them into the wagon safely bundled up, and Mrs. Hitchc.o.c.k soothed their alarm by gentle pattings and motherly words, till they ceased to struggle, and cuddled down to sleep like two confiding puppies, for they were not much bigger.
Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k kept the hotel that stood at the foot of the king of the mountains, and in summer the house was full of people; so he was glad of any new attraction, and the little bears were the delight of many children. At first, Tom and Jerry trotted and tumbled about like frolicsome puppies, and led easy lives,--petted, fed and admired, till they grew so big and bold that, like other young creatures, their pranks made mischief as well as fun.
Tom would steal all the good things he could lay his paws on in kitchen or dining-room, and cook declared she couldn't have the rascal loose; for whole pans of milk vanished, sheets of ginger-bread were found in his den under the back steps, and nearly every day he was seen scrambling off with booty of some sort, while the fat cook waddled after, scolding and shaking the poker at him, to the great amus.e.m.e.nt of the boarders on the piazza. People bore with him a long time; but when he took a lively trot down the middle of the long dinner-table one day, after eating all he liked, and smas.h.i.+ng right and left as he scampered off, with a terrible clatter of silver, gla.s.s, and china, his angry master declared he wouldn't have such doings, and chained him to a post on the lawn. Here he tugged and growled dismally, while good little Jerry frisked gayly about, trying to understand what it all meant.
But presently _his_ besetting sin got _him_ into trouble likewise. He loved to climb, and was never happier than when scrambling up the rough posts of the back piazza to bask in the sun on the roof above, peeping down with his sharp little eyes at the children, who could not follow.
He roosted in trees like a fat brown bird, and came tumbling down unexpectedly on lovers who sought quiet nooks to be romantic in. He explored the chimneys and threw into them any trifle he happened to find,--being a rogue, and fond of stealing hats, b.a.l.l.s, dolls, or any small article that came in his way. But the fun he liked best was to climb in at the chamber windows and doze on the soft beds; for Jerry was a luxurious fellow and scorned the straw of his own den. This habit annoyed people much, and the poor bear often came bundling out of windows, with old gentlemen whacking him with canes, or ladies throwing water after him.
One evening, when there was a dance and every one was busy down stairs, Jerry took a walk on the roof, and being sleepy, looked about for a cosey bed to take a nap in. Two brothers occupied one of these rooms, and both were Jerry's good friends, especially the younger. Georgie was fast asleep, as his dancing days had not yet begun, and Charlie was waltzing away down stairs; so Jerry crept into bed and nestled down beside his playmate, who was too sleepy to do anything but roll over, thinking the big brother had come to bed.
By and by Charlie did come up, late and tired, and having forgotten a lamp, undressed in the moonlight, observing nothing till about to step into bed; then, finding something rolled up in the clothes, thought it a joke of the other boys, caught up a racket and began to bang away at the suspicious bundle. A scene of wild confusion followed, for Jerry growled and clawed and couldn't get out; Georgie woke, and thinking his bed-fellow was his brother being abused by some frolicsome mate, held on to Jerry, defending him bravely, till a rent in the sheet allowed a s.h.a.ggy head to appear, so close to his own that the poor child was painfully reminded of Red Riding Hood's false grandmother. Charlie was speechless with laughter at this discovery, and while Jerry bounced about the bed snarling and hugging pillows as he tried to get free, terrified Georgie rushed down the hall screaming, ”The wolf! the wolf!”
till he took refuge in his mother's room.
Out popped night-capped heads, anxious voices cried, ”Is it fire?” and in a moment the house was astir. The panic might have been serious if Jerry had not come galloping down stairs, hotly pursued by Charlie in his night-gown, still belaboring the poor beast, and howling, ”He was in my bed! He scared George! I'll thrash him!”
Then the alarmed ladies and gentlemen laughed and grew calm, while the boys all turned out and hunted Jerry up stairs and down, till he was captured and ignominiously lugged away to be tied in the barn.
That prank sealed his fate, and he went to join his brother in captivity. Here they lived for a year, and went to housekeeping in a den in the bank, with a trough for their food, and a high, knotted pole to climb on. They had many visitors, and learned a few tricks, but were not happy bears; for they longed to be free, and the older they grew, the more they sighed for the great forest where they were born.
The second summer something happened that parted them forever. Among the children that year were Fred and Fan Howard, two jolly young persons of twelve and fourteen. Of course the bears were very interesting, and Fred tried their tempers by tormenting them, while Fan won their hearts with cake and nuts, candy and caresses. Tom was Fred's favorite, and Jerry was Fan's. Tom was very intelligent, and covered himself with glory by various exploits. One was taking off the boards which roofed the den, so that the sun should dry the dampness after a rain; and he carefully replaced them at night. Any dog who approached the trough got his ears smartly boxed, and meddlesome boys were hugged till they howled for mercy. He danced in a way to convulse the soberest, and Fred taught him to shoulder arms in such a funny imitation of a stout old soldier of the town that the children rolled on the gra.s.s in fits of laughter when the cap was on, and the wooden gun flourished at word of command by the clumsy hero.
Jerry had no accomplishments, but his sweet temper made many friends. He let the doves eat with him, the kittens frolic all over his broad back, and was never rough with the small people who timidly offered the buns he took so gently from their little hands. But he pined in captivity, refused his food, and lay in his den all day, or climbed to the top of the pole and sat there looking off to the cool, dark forest, with such a pensive air that Fan said it made her heart ache to see him. Just before the season ended, Jerry disappeared. No one could imagine how the chain broke, but gone he was, and never came back, to Fan's satisfaction and Tom's great sorrow. He mourned for his brother, and Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k began to talk of killing him; for it would not do to let two bears loose in the neighborhood, as they sometimes killed sheep and did much harm.
”I wish my father would buy him,” said Fred, ”I've always wanted a menagerie, and a tame bear would be a capital beginning.”
”I'll ask him, for I hate to have the poor old fellow killed,” answered Fan. She not only begged papa to buy Tom, but confessed that she filed Jerry's chain and helped him to escape.
”I know it was wrong, but I couldn't see him suffer,” she said. ”Now if you buy Tom I'll give you my five dollars to help, and Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k will forgive me and be glad to get rid of both the bears.”
After some consultation Tom _was_ bought, and orders were sent to have a house built for him in a sunny corner of the garden, with strong rings to chain him to, and a good lock on the door to keep him in. When he was settled in these new quarters he held daily receptions for some weeks.
Young and old came to see him, and Fred showed off his menagerie with the pride of a budding Barnum. A bare spot was soon worn on the gra.s.s where Tom's parade ground was, and at all hours the poor fellow might be seen dancing and drilling, or sitting at his door, thoughtfully surveying the curious crowd, and privately wis.h.i.+ng he never had been born.