The Jumble Book Part 19

Well, after a while, as he journeyed on he came to a bridge, and, all of a sudden, whom should he meet but Sir Launcelot of the Lake, that n.o.ble knight whom you remember he had met a long time ago. And when Sir Launcelot had reined in his great charger he cried out in a loud voice:

[Ill.u.s.tration: LITTLE SIR CAT AND MARY IN THE GARDEN]

"Come with me, Kitten!" So Little Sir Cat sprang up lightly behind the n.o.ble knight and together they rode across the bridge and out upon the King's Highway. And after they had gone for many miles, they came across Little Miss m.u.f.fet who sat on a tuffet. But this time she wasn't running away from the big cruel spider who had sat down beside her.

"Whither are you bound, little maid?" asked the knight. And then without waiting for an answer he leaned over and lifted her up into the saddle beside Little Sir Kitten. And wasn't she glad to see our little traveler again? Well, if you had only been there you would have laughed with joy, for she was so happy that she hugged him again and again.

After a while they came to an old mill where the rusty, dusty miller ground the corn for the farmers. "Please let me down here," said little Miss m.u.f.fet, "for mother asked me to bring home some meal." So the kind knight pulled in his great steed and Little Miss m.u.f.fet ran into the mill.

But Sir Launcelot didn't wait, for he wasn't going back, you see, so he and Little Sir Cat called out good-by and went upon their way. And the sun shone down and glittered on the bright armor of the n.o.ble knight and p.u.s.s.y cat felt very proud to be riding with him.

"You shall go with me to King Arthur's Court," said Sir Launcelot, "for little friend Tom Thumb is with my good king and he has told all the knights what a good comrade you are."

Towards evening, they came to the Court of King Arthur where all the knights were eating their evening meal at the great round table. But when they heard the hoof beats of Sir Launcelot's great horse, they ran outside to greet him. Little Sir Kitten was taken into the great dining hall and placed on the right hand of King Arthur and merry was the feast that followed, for they had all heard of brave Little Sir Cat and loved him and Mother Goose, although they had grown up to be great strong knights.

And pretty soon you will find another story--unless--

_The friendly clock upon the wall Should strike out three times playing ball._

LILY'S CIRCUS

Captain Morton was an officer in the United States Army and for many years had lived in the far west--that wonderful country where the sun blazes down upon miles of gra.s.sy prairie, undulating to the horizon as if it were a great heaving sea, the little hillocks rising like dark waves upon its surface.

Over those vast plains roved the Indians, hunting antelopes, wolves, etc. At these times the "red man" looks his best; mounted on his swift pony, his gaudy blanket and bright feathers gleaming in the suns.h.i.+ne, his long black hair streaming in the wind, he seems truly the "n.o.ble savage."

To control these savages, soldiers were needed on the plains, to prevent war parties from das.h.i.+ng into little frontier villages, stealing horses and cattle, burning barns and houses and murdering the people who were trying to cultivate the prairies, to turn the great plains of dry, burnt gra.s.s into fields of wheat and beautiful green meadows.

All Indians are not wicked; but the tribe near which Captain Morton was stationed was extremely wild and cruel, and refused to live on friendly terms with white people.

All day and all night the "tom-tom," or big drum, was being beaten by the Indians; for the time I am telling you of was just after that dreadful battle, when the great Indian chief, Sitting Bull, killed brave General Custer and half of his n.o.ble regiment of cavalry. This success had made all the other Indians very fierce and restless, and the small garrison of which Captain Morton had command were kept busy day and night ready for attack.

But Lily, Captain Morton's little daughter, did not trouble herself about danger. She was not allowed to go out of the garrison inclosure, but she played with her chickens and her little pony, which her father had bought and trained for her. Its name was Tec.u.mseh Sherman, after the general of the army, but Lily called it Tic for short. It soon followed her in and out of the log house and wherever she went, and showed a most decided liking for anything of a red color. When Lily wore a red dress, Tic would take a fold in his mouth and pull her about, and even knock her down in his play, for he never meant to hurt her. In the evening Lily's little sidesaddle was put on Tic, and she would gallop over the prairie with her father.

One morning Lily rushed into the house calling out:

"Mama, mama, here's a circus! Come and see! It's right outside the door!"

Sure enough, just outside the garrison was a great crowd of gayly dressed people, and near the front were six girls mounted on ponies, the saddles beautifully embroidered with beads, and fine large umbrellas over their heads made of red, white and blue cloth. These were princesses, daughters of the great chief of the tribe. Lily ever after talked of them as the "six Pocahontases."

A LITTLE GIRL'S DIARY

Friday

_I love her on a Friday When the house is upside down And her golden hair is m.u.f.fled In a twisted turban brown._

Friday is the last of school for the week, and Sat.u.r.day is coming. There are two reasons why I like Friday. One is that it is the last day of school week, and the other--because tomorrow is Sat.u.r.day.

I do just about the same things on Friday, that is, school as usual, and then a romp or walk in the park, rolling my hoop or skating on my rollers. But at home I'm very busy. It's doll's house cleaning day, and oh, dear me! I have to brush it out from attic to kitchen. It is a lot of work, for all the rooms have carpets or hardwood floors with little rugs, and everything must be dusted thoroughly. I do my hair up just as regular grown-up cleaners do, and by and by Dolly's house is all done.

For a little girl it is hard work, and Mother says she thinks I will make a fine housekeeper when I grow up. I hope I won't get another doll's house next Christmas, for I don't see how I could run two houses at once.

LILY AND THE PAPOOSE

"This is 'Annuity Day,' Lily," said her father. "Get your hat and we will go and see the Indians get their clothes and provisions for the next year."

"What is 'Annuity'?" asked Lily. "Is it Indian for birthday?"

"Well, yes, it is sort of a birthday, for the United States Government gives a good many presents that day to the Indians--food and clothes for the men, women and children for a whole year."

"Well, let's go," said Lily, "and I'll just touch one of those papooses with my own hand if I get near enough. I think they are just dolls. No real, live baby would stay quiet tied on a board and fastened up all in a bunch to its mother's back. They do wink their eyes, that's certain; but I can make my Rosy wink her eyes, too, only I have to pull a wire to get her to shut them."

So off started Lily with her papa, and soon they came to an open s.p.a.ce, in the center of which was a great pile of blankets, clothing, bacon, flour, corn, coffee, sugar, tobacco and many other things which good Uncle Sam gives once a year to his "wards," the Indians. Around this pile of things sat a large circle of Indians, men, women and children.

The men were, as a general rule, well dressed in tight leggins, with strips of gay bead embroidery down the sides; deerskin or calico s.h.i.+rts fringed with tiny bells and ta.s.sels of colored worsted and bright feathers in their scalp locks. The women wore flannel pantaloons and a single calico slip, and a blanket drawn over their heads.

Many of these wild people had never seen a little white girl before.

They gazed at Lily's fair skin and long bright hair with great interest.

One old man wrapped in a buffalo robe advanced waving his covering like some immense bird flapping its wings. When he got near Lily he stood still, saying:

"Washta papoose! Washta papoose!" (Pretty child! Pretty child!) and held out his hand, saying: "Howe-howe?" (How do you do?)

And now Lily found a good opportunity to decide whether the funny little objects on the Indian women's backs were dolls or "really babies."

While the Indian agent and his clerks were busily distributing the "annuities," giving to the chief of each band the allowance for himself and his family, Lily went up very close to the squaw who had a black-eyed bundle tied upon her back, and stood for several minutes absorbed in contemplation.

"Is that a real, live baby, ma'am, or a doll you keep for your little girl?" asked Lily very politely.

The squaw, of course, did not understand a word she said, and only responded: "Ugh! Howe! Washta papoose!" as a general expression of her good will. So Lily presently put out her hand very softly and touched the bundle.

What a scream! Even the dignified chiefs turned their plumed heads to find out what the cause of the noise could be.

There was the papoose shrieking on its mother's back, proving most positively its claim to be considered a "real, live baby," and there was a drop of bright red blood on its little brown arm. Lily had stuck a pin in the Indian baby to find out if it was alive or not.

Poor little girl! She stood frightened and trembling, crimson blushes on her cheeks, and two great tears just br.i.m.m.i.n.g over her eyes. Not until she had made a peace offering of candy to the baby, and left it contentedly sucking away at a peppermint stick, could she be consoled and interested once more in the strange scenes around her.