Andiron Tales, Page 2

  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.

  "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. Carro
ttop?"

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

  "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."