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The Joyous Story of Toto

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“Oh, yes,” said Toto in an off-hand way. “Yes, we can; and sometimes we do. I have eaten in 175 the course of my life, and I may do it again, but not to-night.”

At this moment the guests all came pouring into the supper-room; and Toto began to think that it would be wise for him to slip away quietly, as it must be near his own supper-time, and his grandmother would be wondering where he was. So he took a friendly leave of the master of ceremonies, and nodding to the woodchuck, he left the supper-room, made his way through the ball-room, and dropping once more on his hands and knees, proceeded to wriggle his way as best he might through the underground passage.

A very grimy and dusty boy he was when he came out again from behind the juniper-bush. He shook himself as well as he could, laughed a little over the recollection of the unsuccessful rabbit suitor kicking his heels in the air to express his devotion, and started on his way home.

He had spent a much longer time than he had meant to at the rinktum, and it was growing quite dark. He hurried along, for his way lay through 176 a part of the wood where he did not like to go after dark. The owls lived there, and Toto did not like the owls, because none of his friends liked them. They were surly, growly, ill-tempered birds, and were apt to make themselves very disagreeable if one met them after dark. Indeed, it was said that Mrs. Growler, the old grandmother owl of the family, had once eaten several of Cracker’s brothers and sisters. The squirrel did not like to talk about it, but Toto knew that he hated the owls bitterly.

“I hope I shall not meet any of them,” said the boy to himself as he entered the wood. “I am not afraid of them, of course, – it would be absurd for a boy to be afraid of an owl, – but I don’t like them.”

The thought had scarcely crossed his mind, when he heard a sound of flapping wings; and a moment after a huge white owl flew down directly in front of him, and spreading its broad pinions, completely barred his passage.

“Who?” said the owl.

“Toto,” said the boy shortly. “Let me pass, please. I’m in a hurry.”

“You’re late!” said the owl severely.

“I know it,” replied Toto. “That’s why I asked you to let me pass. I don’t want to talk to you, Mrs. Growler, and I don’t suppose you want to talk to me.”

“Whit!” cried Mrs. Growler (for it was no other than that redoubtable female). “Don’t give me any of your impudence, sir! What do you mean by coming into our wood after dark, and then insulting me? Here, Hoots! Flappy! Horner! Come here, all of you! Here’s this imp of a boy who’s always making mischief here with that thieving raccoon. Let us give him a lesson, and teach him to stay where he belongs, and not come spying and prying into our wood!”

Immediately a rushing sound was heard from all sides, and half-a-dozen owls came hooting and screaming around our hero.

Toto held his ground manfully, though he saw that the odds were greatly against him. One owl 179 was all very well; but seven or eight owls, all armed with powerful beaks and claws, and all angry, were quite another matter, especially as the darkness, which exactly suited them, made it difficult for him to tell in which direction he should beat his retreat, supposing he were able to beat it at all.

He set his back against a tree, and faced the hooting, flapping crowd, whose great round eyes glared fiercely at him.

“I’ve never done any harm to any of you,” he said boldly. “I’ve never thrown stones at you, and I’ve never taken more than one egg at a time from your nests. You have always hated me, Mother Growler, because I am a friend of Coon; and you’re afraid of Coon, you know you are. Come, let me go home quietly, and I’ll promise not to come into your part of the wood again.

“I’m sure, there’s no inducement for coming,” he added in a lower tone. “It’s the scraggiest part of the whole forest, – only fit for owls to live in!”

“Hoo! hoo!” cried Mother Growler in a rage. “I’m afraid of Coon, am I? A nasty, thieving creature, with an amount of tail that is simply disgusting! And our wood is scraggy, is it? Hoo! Give it to him, children!”

“Peck him!” cried all the owls in chorus; “scratch him! tear him! hustle him!” and, with wings and claws spread, they came flying at Toto.

Toto put one arm before his face, and prepared to defend himself as well as he could with the other. His blood was up, and he had no thought of trying to escape. If he could only get Mother Growler by the head now, and wring her neck!

But blows were falling like hail on his own head now, – sharp blows from horny beaks and crooked talons. They were tearing his jacket off. He was dazed, almost stunned, by the beating of the huge wings in his face. Decidedly, our Toto is in a bad way.

Suddenly a loud crackling noise was heard among the bushes. It came nearer; it grew louder. Toto listened, with his heart in his mouth. Surely, 181 but one animal there was big enough to make a noise like that.

Bruin!” he cried, with all the breath he could gather, panting and struggling as he was. “Bruin! help! help!”

A portentous growl answered his cry. The boughs crackled and burst right and left, and the next instant the bear sprang through the bushes.

“What is it?” he cried. “Toto, that was your voice. Where are you, boy? What is the matter?”

“Here!” cried Toto faintly. “Here, Bruin! The owls – ” But at that moment the little fellow’s voice failed, and he sank bleeding and exhausted on the ground.

“How-grrrrr-wow-wurra-Wurra-WURRA-WOW!!!”

In two minutes more there were no owls in that part of the wood. Hoots, Horner, and the rest, when they saw the fiery eyes and glittering teeth of the bear, and heard his terrible roar, as he rushed upon them, loosed their hold of the 182 boy, and flew for their lives. As for Mother Growler —

“I did say,” remarked Bruin, taking some feathers out of his mouth, “that I never would eat another owl unless it was plucked. Feathers are certainly a most inferior article of food; but in a case of this kind it is really the only thing to do. As Coon says, it settles the matter, and there is no further trouble about it. And now,” continued the good bear, “how is my dear boy? Why, Toto! look up, boy. They are all gone, and you are cock of the whole wood. Come, my Toto! I’ll eat them all, if they have hurt the boy!” he added in an undertone.

But Toto made no reply. He had, in point of fact, fainted from exhaustion and excitement.

Bruin sniffed at him, and poked him from head to foot; then, finding that no bones were broken, he lifted the boy gently by the waistband of his breeches, and shambled off in the direction of the cottage.

CHAPTER XII

THE grandmother all this time was wondering very much where her Toto was. “What can have become of the boy?” she said to herself for the twentieth time. “He is always punctual at supper-time; and now it is more than an hour past. It must be quite dark, too, in the wood. Where can he be?” And she went to the door and listened, as she had been listening ever since six o’clock. “Toto!” she said aloud. “Toto, do you hear me?” But no sound came in reply, save the distant hoot of an owl; and reluctantly the good woman closed the door again, and went back to her knitting. She felt very anxious, very much troubled; but what could she do? Blind and alone, she was quite helpless. Suppose the boy should have wandered off into some distant part of the forest, and lost his way? Suppose 184 he should have encountered some fierce wild beast, unlike the friendly creatures with whom he played every day? Suppose – But here the current of her anxious thoughts was interrupted by a sound; a curious sound, – a soft thud against the door, followed by a scratching noise, and a sound of heavy breathing.

The poor grandmother turned cold with fear; she did not dare to move for some minutes; but the thud was repeated several times, as if somebody were trying to knock. She tottered towards the door, and said in a tremulous voice, “Who is there?”

“Only Bruin, ma’am,” was the reply, in a meek growl.

Oh, how relieved the grandmother was! With hands that still trembled she unfastened the door. “Oh, Mr. Bruin!” she cried. “Dear Mr. Bruin, I am so glad you have come! Can you tell me anything about Toto? He has not come home, and I am very anxious indeed. I fear he may have met some wild creature, and – ”

“Well, ma’am,” said the bear slowly, “as for being wild – well, yes; perhaps you would call her wild. And I don’t say she was amiable, and she was certainly very free in the matter of claws; very free, indeed, she was!”

“What do you mean, Mr. Bruin?” cried the poor old lady. “Claws? Oh! then I know he has been attacked, and you know all about it, and have come to break it to me. My boy! my boy! Tell me quickly where he is, and what has happened to him!”

“Don’t be alarmed, ma’am,” said Bruin. “Pray don’t be alarmed! there are no bones broken, I assure you; and as for her, you need have no further anxiety. I – I saw to the matter myself, and I have no reason to think – no, I really have no reason to think that you will have any further trouble with her.”

Her!” said the bewildered old grandmother. “I don’t – I can’t understand you, Mr. Bruin. I want to know what has become of Toto, my boy.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said the bear hastily. “Very natural, I’m sure; don’t mention it, I beg of you. As for a little blood, you know,” he added apologetically, “that couldn’t be helped, you see. I didn’t come up quite soon enough; but we know the blood is there, after all; and a little of it outside instead of inside, – why, what difference does it make? He has plenty left, you know.”

“Bruin, Bruin!” cried a faint voice, “do stop! You will frighten her to death with your explanations. Here I am, Granny dear, safe and sound, barring a few scratches.” And Toto, who had been gradually recovering his senses during the last few minutes, raised himself from the doorstep on which the bear had laid him, and flung his arms round his grandmother’s neck.

The poor old woman gave a cry of joy, and then burst into tears, being quite overcome by the sudden change from grief and anxiety to security and delight.

At the sight of her tears, the worthy Bruin uttered a remorseful growl, and boxed his own 187 ears several times very severely, assuring himself that he was quite the most stupid beast that ever lived, and that he was always making a mess of it. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, ma’am,” he said, “I didn’t indeed; but I am such a stupid! And now,” he added, “I think I must be going. Good-night, ma’am.”

“What!” cried Toto, turning from his grandmother, and throwing his arms in turn round the bear’s huge shaggy neck. “Going, before we have thanked you? Going off without a word, after saving my life? Oh, you unnatural old Bruin! you shall not stir! Do you know, Granny, that he has saved my life from the owls, and that if it had not been for him you would have no Toto at all, but only a hundred little bits of him?” And he told the whole story in glowing words, while Bruin hung his head and shuffled from one foot to another, much abashed at hearing his own praises.

And when the grandmother had heard all about it, what did she do? Why, she too put her arms round the huge shaggy neck; and if ever a bear 188 came near being hugged to death, it was that bear.

“And now,” said the grandmother, when she had recovered her composure, and had thanked and blessed Bruin till he did not know whether he had one head or seven, “it is very late, and I am sure you must be tired. Why will you not stay and spend the night with us? There is a beautiful fire in the kitchen, and a nice soft rug in front of it, on which you could sleep very comfortably. Do stay!”

The bear rubbed his nose and looked helplessly at Toto. “I don’t think – ” he began.

“Of course he will stay,” said Toto decidedly. “There isn’t any ‘thinking’ about it. He will stay. Walk in, old fellow, and sit down in front of the fire, and Granny will give us both some supper. Oh! my Granny dear, if you knew how hungry I am!”

It would have been a pleasant sight, had there been any one there to enjoy it, to see the trio gathered around the bright wood-fire an hour 189 later. The grandmother sat in her high-backed arm-chair, in snowy cap and kerchief, knitting and smiling, smiling and knitting, as happy and contented as a grandmother could possibly be. On the other side of the hearth sat the bear, blinking comfortably at the fire, while Toto leaned against his shaggy side, and chattered like a magpie.

“How jolly this is!” he said. “It reminds me of Snow-White and Rose-Red, when the bear came and slept in front of the fire. By the way, Bruin, you are not an enchanted prince, are you? The bear in that story was an enchanted prince. What fun if you should be!”

“Not to my knowledge,” replied the bear, shaking his head. “Not – to – my – knowledge. Never heard of such a thing in our branch of the family. I had a cousin once who travelled with a showman, but that is the only thing of the kind that I know of.”

“Tell us about your cousin!” said Toto, eager, as usual, for a story. “How came he to take to the show business?”

“It took him,” said Bruin. “He was taken when he was a little fellow, only a few months old. The man who caught him made a pet of him at first; taught him to dance, and shake paws, and beat the drum. He was a drummer in the 191 army, – the man, I mean. He was very kind, and my cousin grew extremely fond of him.”

“What was your cousin’s name?” asked Toto.

“They called him ‘Grimshaw;’” said Bruin. “His master’s name was Shaw, and he was grim, you know, when he didn’t like people, and so they called him ‘Grimshaw.’ He mostly didn’t like people,” added the bear reflectively. “He certainly didn’t like the showman.”

“Then Shaw was not the showman?” said Toto.

“Oh, dear, no!” said Bruin. “A war broke out, and Shaw’s regiment was ordered off, and he couldn’t take Grimshaw with him. He was very big then, and the other soldiers didn’t like him. He had a way of going into the different tents and taking anything he happened to fancy for supper; and if any one said anything to him, he boxed that one’s ears. They always tumbled down when he boxed their ears, and they made a great fuss about it, and so finally his master was obliged to sell him to the showman. His name was Jinks.

“He taught my cousin several new tricks, and 192 took him all over the country, exhibiting him in the different towns and villages. You see,” said Bruin apologetically, “he – I mean Grimshaw – didn’t know any better. He was so young when he was taken that he didn’t remember much about his family, and didn’t know what an undignified sort of thing it was to be going about in that way. One day, however, Jinks undertook to make him waltz with a piece of meat on his nose, without attempting to eat it. Grimshaw would not do that, because he didn’t think it was reasonable; and I don’t think it was. So then Jinks attempted to beat him, and Grimshaw boxed his ears, and he tumbled down and didn’t get up again. Grimshaw waited a few minutes, and finding that he did not seem inclined to move, he ran away and took to the woods.”

“But why did not the showman get up?” inquired the grandmother innocently.

“I think it highly probable that he was dead, madam,” replied Bruin. “But I cannot say positively, as I was not there.

“After this Grimshaw lived alone for some time, wandering about from one forest to another. One day, as he was roaming up and down, he came suddenly upon a party of soldiers, three or four in number, sitting round a fire, and cooking their dinner. The moment they saw the bear, they dropped everything, and ran for their lives, leaving the good chops to burn, which was a sin. It was a good thing for Grimshaw, however, as he was very hungry; so he sat down by the fire and made a hearty meal. After he had dined comfortably, he began to look about him, and spied a big drum, which the soldiers had left behind in their flight. Seizing the drumsticks, he began to beat a lively tattoo. In a few moments he heard a rustling among the bushes, and saw a man’s head thrust cautiously out. What was his delight to recognize his old master, Sergeant Shaw! He threw down the drumsticks and uttered a peculiar howl. It was answered by a shrill whistle, and in another moment Shaw and Grimshaw were in each other’s arms. When the other soldiers ventured 194 to return, they found the two gravely dancing a hornpipe, with great mutual satisfaction.”

“Oh! how delightful!” exclaimed Toto. “And did they stay together after that?”

“No, that was impossible,” replied the bear. “But they spent a couple of days together, and parted with the utmost good-will.

“After roaming about for some time longer, my cousin met some other bears, who invited him to join them. To their great amazement, one of them turned out to be Grimshaw’s elder brother; he recognized Grimshaw by one of his ears, out of which he had himself bitten a piece in their infancy. This was a very joyful meeting, and led to the restoration of Grimshaw to his parents, who were still alive. He spent the remainder of his life in peace and happiness; and that is all there is to tell about him.

“And now,” continued Bruin, “you ought to have been asleep long ago, Toto, and I have been keeping you awake with my long story. Off with you, now! And good-night to you too, dear madam. I will lie here in front of the fire; and if any creature, human or otherwise, comes to disturb the house during the night, I will attend to that creature!”

196

CHAPTER XIII

THE grandmother thought, the next morning, that she had not passed such a pleasant evening, or such a comfortable and restful night, for a long time. “Dear me!” she said, after Bruin had departed, with many thanks and at least ten profound bows, – “dear me! what a difference it makes, having a bear in the house! one feels so secure; and one does not think of waking up to listen, every time a branch snaps outside, or a door creaks in the house. I wonder – ” But the grandmother did not tell Toto what she wondered.

The next fine afternoon, the animals all came to the cottage in good season, for they were to have a story from their kind hostess herself this time, and it was to be about a giant.

“And if you will believe it,” said the raccoon, “our poor Chucky here does not – ha! ha! – actually 197 does not know what a giant is! Will you kindly explain to him, dear madam?”

“Ugh!” grunted the woodchuck. “I don’t believe you know yourself, Coon, for all your airs! You said this morning it was a kind of vegetable, and now – ”

“Stop quarrelling, and listen to the story, will you?” said Bruin. “Wow!”

When the bear said “Wow” in that manner, all the others knew it meant business; and as he lay down at the grandmother’s feet, they all drew nearer, and were silent in expectation.

“A giant,” said the grandmother, “is like a man, only very much bigger; very, very much bigger. The giant about whom I am going to tell you was one of the largest of his kind, being no less than fourteen miles high.”

There was a general murmur of amazement.

“Fourteen miles high!” the old lady repeated. “His name was as short as he himself was long, for it was neither more nor less than Crump; and he fell in love with the Lady Moon. He fell so 198 deeply in love with her that it was quite impossible for him to get out again; so he informed her of the fact, and begged her to marry him.

‘Come and share my mammoth lot,And shine in my gigantic cot!’

That was what he said, or words to that effect.

“But the Lady Moon replied, ‘Dear Crump, I would gladly do as you suggest, but the thing is not possible. I have no body, but only a head; and I could not think of going into church to be married without any body, to say nothing of legs and feet.’

“‘Is that your only objection?’ asked Giant Crump.

“‘The only one, upon my lunar honor!’ replied the Lady Moon.

“‘Then I think I can manage it,’ said the giant. Accordingly he went and gathered together all the silver there was in the world at that time, and out of it he made a beautiful silver body, with arms and legs all complete. And when it was finished he made a silver dress, and silver slippers, 199 and a silver moonshade, and dressed the body up in the most fashionable and delightful manner. Then, when all was ready, he called to the Lady Moon, and told her that her body was ready, and that she had only to come down and put it on.

“‘But I cannot come down,’ said the Lady Moon. ‘Nothing would induce me to come down without a body. You must bring it up here.’

“Now that was not an easy thing to do; for though Crump was very big, he was not nearly big enough. What are fourteen miles, compared with two hundred and forty thousand? However, he was a very persevering giant, and had no idea of giving up; and he was very clever too. So he sat down on the ground and reflected for the space of seven years, and at the end of that time a thought struck him.

“He rose at once, and went to work and made a pair of stilts, high enough to reach to the moon. That was quite a piece of work, as you may imagine; but when they were finished, a new difficulty arose: how was he to get up on them? 200 This required more reflection, and Crump sat and thought about it for six weeks more. Then another thought struck him, which was really an extremely clever one. He made a long ladder, as long as the stilts. He set this up against one of the stilts, and climbed up and put one foot on it; and then he set the ladder against the other stilt, and climbed up and put the other foot on that; this was very difficult, but it was also very clever. I forgot to say that he took the silver body up with him. Then he called out to the Lady Moon, ‘Here I am, dear Lady Moon, and here is your silver body. Stop now, stop your rolling, and let me fasten it on for you, and then come down and be my beautiful silver bride.’ And he held up the silver body, which shone and sparkled in the most enchanting manner.

“But the Lady Moon replied, ‘Stop rolling, indeed! that is quite out of the question, I assure you. I have never done such a thing, and I am not going to begin at my time of life. No, no, Giant Crump; if you want me, you must catch 202 me!’ and she went rolling on in the most heartless and unfeeling way.

“There was nothing for the poor giant to do but follow; so, tucking the silver body under his arm, he set off on his tall stilts, and walked after the Lady Moon. Round and round the world went she, and round and round went the giant after her; and as I have never heard of his catching up with her, he is very likely walking round and round still.”

“Is that all?” inquired the insatiable Toto. “What a very short story, Granny!”

“It is rather short,” said the grandmother; “but I don’t see how it could be made any longer. I will, however, if you wish, tell you another short story, and that will be equal to one long one. Listen, therefore, and you shall hear the story of Hokey Pokey.”

So they listened, and heard it.

“Hokey Pokey was the youngest of a large family of children. His elder brothers, as they 203 grew up, all became either butchers or bakers or makers of candlesticks, for such was the custom of the family. But Hokey Pokey would be none of these things; so when he was grown to be a tall youth he went to his father and said, ‘Give me my fortune.’

“‘Will you be a butcher?’ asked his father.

“‘No,’ said Hokey Pokey.

“‘Will you be a baker?’

“‘No, again.’

“‘Will you make candlesticks?’

“‘Nor that either.’

“‘Then,’ said his father, ‘this is the only fortune I can give you;’ and with that he took up his cudgel and gave the youth a stout beating. ‘Now you cannot complain that I gave you nothing,’ said he.

“‘That is true,’ said Hokey Pokey. ‘But give me also the wooden mallet which lies on the shelf, and I will make my way through the world.’

“His father gave him the mallet, glad to be so easily rid of him, and Hokey Pokey went out 204 into the world to seek his fortune. He walked all day, and at nightfall he came to a small village. Feeling hungry, he went into a baker’s shop, intending to buy a loaf of bread for his supper. There was a great noise and confusion in the back part of the shop; and on going to see what was the matter, he found the baker on his knees beside a large box or chest, which he was trying with might and main to keep shut. But there was something inside the box which was trying just as hard to get out, and it screamed and kicked, and pushed the lid up as often as the baker shut it down.

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