CHAPTER VITHE LITTLE LAME BOY
“Where’sTrouble?” asked Jan, as she got up and brushed some dried grass out of her hair, for her head had bumped the ground.
“Yes, whereisTrouble?” added her brother, and he looked up in the air, as though he might see Baby William floating around like a circus balloon when it gets loose. If Trouble had been like a rubber ball he might have bounced up in the air. But he was not in sight as Ted looked up.
“Where, oh, where, can Trouble be?” asked Jan again.
And then came a little, faint cry, as though far off.
“Was that Nicknack bleating?” asked Ted.
“It didn’t sound like him,” answered Jan. “What did you do with our littlebrother?” she asked of the goat, who said never a word, but kept on eating grass. The noise sounded again.
“Maybe it was a sheep,” suggested Ted.
But the sheep were far away, at the other end of the pasture, so it could not have been they. Then the cry sounded once more.
“I want to get out! I want to get out! Oh! Oh!”
“It’s Trouble!” shouted Jan.
“But where?” Ted asked.
Without answering, Jan hurried to the overturned wagon. As she lifted up one side of it there came a cry from underneath.
“I want to go home! I want my mamma!”
“Why, it’s Trouble!” gasped Ted. “He was under the wagon!”
And so he was. When Nicknack turned to one side so quickly, and when one of the wheels came off, upsetting the goat cart, Ted and Jan had been tossed out, or else they had jumped, they hardly knew which. But Trouble had stayed in, and consequently the wagon had fallen right over on top of him, hiding him underneath it.
Luckily the sides of the wagon were high, and as there were soft cushions in it and apiece of carpet, little Trouble was not in the least hurt. His head was not even bumped, but, of course, he was frightened, for he was in the dark, and he thought he was shut in a closet at home, which he never liked. He did not know it was only the overturned goat wagon which held him down.
Trouble stopped crying as soon as Jan and Ted lifted the wagon so he could crawl out, which he did immediately. Then he saw Nicknack eating grass at the side of the lane and he laughed.
“Bossy-goat runned away!” cried Trouble. “Didn’t him?”
“That’s what he did!” answered Ted. “But he didn’t mean to. Only our wagon is busted!”
It was—well, not “busted,” but broken. One wheel had come apart. Being an old and a dry one, the spokes had fallen out.
The harness had broken, too, and it was useless to try to hitch Nicknack to the little wagon again. In fact, cart, as well as harness would have fallen in pieces.
“We’ll have to mend it,” decided Ted. “We’ll leave it here and drive Nicknack home without the cart. I wish we could get a new one.”
“Let’s ask daddy or mother,” suggested Jan. “They know now that our goat is good and that we can drive him. Maybe they’ll let us have a better cart.”
“They wouldn’t think we could drive Nicknack if they saw what just happened,” laughingly declared Ted. “But we couldn’t help it.”
Having brushed the grass and dirt off Trouble, the Curlytops, their fuzzy hair rather ruffled by their fall, started home through the lane. Ted mended the broken reins, and carried a cushion under one arm, while Jan took the others and led Trouble.
Baby William wanted to ride the goat home, with a cushion for a saddle, but Ted was afraid the animal, having found what fun it was to upset a cart (though really he did not mean to do so) might take a notion to toss Trouble off his back. So there was no riding for the rest of that day. They were soon at grandpa’s house.
“Why, The-o-dore Baradale Mar-tin!” cried his mother, using the little boy’s whole name, which usually was too large to be said all at once. “What has happened and where is the goat wagon?”
“Oh, it’s smashed! It was too old, anyhow!”
“Nicknack threw us out, but we’re not hurt,” added Jan.
“An’ I was hidin’ under de wagon an’ dey touldn’t found me!” laughed Trouble, for it was all a joke to him now.
“Dear, dear! Is he hurt?” asked the mother of the Curlytops, picking up her “dear bunch of trouble.”
“Nope,” answered Jan. “He liked it. Didn’t you, Trouble?”
“Yes. Only it was dark under de wagon. I’s hungry!”
“Bless your little tummy-tummy!” laughed Mother Martin, rolling Trouble up into a ball, and pretending to toss him high in the air. “You shall have some milk. But what happened, Ted?”
Taking turns, with Trouble now and then getting in a word “edgewise,” as Nora said, Ted and Jan told the story of their first goat ride.
“And, oh, grandpa! such a lot of cherries as you’ll have!” cried Jan, as they spoke of the cherry grove. “There’ll be millions an’ millions of ’em!”
“Can’t you sell them and get rich so youwon’t have to lose the farm?” asked Ted, as his grandfather came in to hear the story of the ride and the upset.
“Well, I can sell some of the cherries, yes. But too many of them are almost as bad as not enough.”
“Why?” Ted wanted to know. He could not understand that.
“Because if there are too many cherries they don’t bring a good price in the market. Maybe, even, I can’t sell them all, and they’ll spoil,” grandpa explained.
“We’ll help eat ’em,” promised Jan.
“Yes, I guess between you and the birds you’ll get rid of some. But don’t you Curlytops worry about the farm. You are here to have vacation fun, and I want you to enjoy every minute, though it’s good of you to look after my cherries,” and Grandpa Martin caught Trouble up in his arms to kiss him.
“And can we help pick some and bring them in with our goat wagon?” asked Ted. “Oh, I forgot! The wagon is broken. I guess we’ll have to get a lot of new wheels and—and—things.”
“Or a new wagon,” added Jan. “Can’t we have one, Daddy?”
“I’ll see about it,” promised her father.
The Curlytops tried to mend the broken wagon, but it was too badly smashed. Ted bruised his fingers with the hammer, and Jan ran a sliver in her thumb “tinkering” over the broken wheels and things, but they could make nothing that would be safe for Nicknack to pull.
“I know what we can do,” said Ted to his sister one day.
“You mean to have fun?”
“I mean to get a goat wagon. Let’s go down to the blacksmith shop and see if the blacksmith man hasn’t got some old wheels or something.”
Ted did not know exactly what he wanted. But he had often passed the blacksmith shop, which was on the road from Cherry Farm to the village, and had seen many parts of wagons inside and outside the place.
“All right, I’ll go with you,” agreed Janet.
Together the children went down the shady road to the blacksmith shop. On the way they stopped to gather flowers, and Janet’s nose was all yellow from the buttercups and dandelions she smelled. The smith was pounding a red-hot horseshoe onthe anvil, his hammer striking out glowing sparks.
“Hello, Curlytop!” he called to Ted, whom he had often seen going past in Grandpa Martin’s wagon. And once Ted had been in the shop when one of the farm horses was shod. “Hello, Curlytop! Did you come to help me work? I’ve got lots to do. Just bring me that big hammer!” and he laughed as he pointed to the heavy sledge that took all a big man’s strength to swing.
Ted tried to lift it, but he could not even drag it across the blacksmith shop floor.
“Guess you’ll have to eat some more crusts of bread before you are strong enough to lift that!” laughed a man in the shop.
“Do bread crusts make you strong?” asked Jan.
“Well, I’ve heard say they make your hair curl,” went on the man; “and you two tots must have eaten loaves that were all crust, by the looks of you!” and he laughed again.
“I like bread crusts,” said Ted. “I’ll eat a lot if they’ll make me strong.”
“They’ll help some,” said the blacksmith. “But what can I do for you to-day, Curlytop? Did you bring your horse to be shod, or do you want a bit for your goat?”
Then Ted and Jan, by turns, told of wanting something to fix their broken wagon. The blacksmith said he was sorry, but he had nothing, since he mended only big farm wagons or carriages much too large for Nicknack. He had no old wheels or anything that would do, he said.
Ted and Jan stood watching the smith fit a shoe to a horse tied in the shop. Suddenly a fly bit the animal and it gave such a jump that Mr. Decker, the smith, had to let go the leg of the horse and jump back to avoid being stepped on.
“Whoa there!” he called to the frightened horse. “Whoa! Steady!”
Jan and Ted started to run out, but Teddy tripped over a piece of iron on the floor and the next he knew he had sat down backwards in the low tub of water in which the smith cooled the red-hot pieces of iron.
“Oh—oh!” gasped Ted, flinging up his arms and wiggling his feet, trying to save himself from falling all the way in.
“Oh, The-o-dore Martin!” cried Jan, as she sometimes heard her mother say it. “You’re all wet!”
“Huh! I guess I know it,” Teddy announced, as he got out of the tub with thehelp of one of the men in the shop, while the smith quieted the horse.
“Yes, youarea bit wet,” said Mr. Decker. “But I filled the tub with clean water only last week, so you won’t be very dirty. Here, you can stand near the forge fire and dry out. You’ve got on dark pants and the dirt won’t show.”
Only the seat of Teddy’s knickerbockers were really wet, and though the water ran down his legs he did not much mind. He stood near the warm fire until he was nearly dry, and so hot he could no longer stand it, and then he and Jan went home.
“Well, it’s a mercy you weren’t burned on the red-hot horseshoe,” said Mother Martin, when she heard what had happened. “Why did you go there?”
“We wanted a goat wagon,” replied Jan.
“Daddy, I guess you’ll have to get them one to keep them out of mischief,” said the mother of the Curlytops.
“I’ll see what I can do,” promised Grandpa Martin.
“Has anyone seen my thimble?” asked Grandma Martin after supper that night, when they were in the sitting-room. “I know I had it on when I was talking to you,Jan, as you stood near me a little while ago.”
“Maybe it’s in my hair, Grandma,” said the little girl.
“In your hair, child? What do you mean?”
“Why, you patted me on the head you know, and maybe the thimble stuck in. Mother’s ring came off her finger in Teddy’s hair once, and we couldn’t find it for a long time. Look in my hair,” and she bent her head down close to grandma’s spectacles.
“Why! There itis!” cried Grandma Martin with a surprised laugh, as she ran her fingers through Janet’s hair and discovered the missing thimble. It was caught in a tangle of curls just as it had been pulled off grandma’s finger.
“Ho! Ho!” laughed Grandpa Martin. “That’s a good hiding place. I lost a quarter last year. Come over here, Teddy, and let me see if it’s in your hair.”
“Why, Grandpa! I’ve washed my hair since then!”
But grandpa insisted on looking, and, lo and behold! when he put in his hand, ruffled up Ted’s hair and drew out his fingers again, there, between them, was a shining quarter!
“Oh!” gasped Jan.
“Why—why——” stammered her brother, in great surprise.
“Oh, Grandpa Martin! you just put your hand in your pocketnow, took out a quarter and had it in your hand when you ruffled up Ted’s hair!” cried Jan, as she guessed how the trick was done. “Didn’t you?”
“Well, Ididlose a quarter last year,” said grandpa. “I thought maybe it might be in Ted’s hair, and—well, here it is!”
But grandpa had played that little trick, as you would have guessed, too, if you had seen him.
“I wish you could get a goat wagon out of my hair,” sighed Jan. “We want one awful bad.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” promised her grandfather, and a few days later the Curlytops were told some joyful news.
Asking among the different farmers he knew, Grandpa Martin heard of one whose little boy, now grown to be a man, had once owned a fine goat wagon. It was stored away in a distant barn, and Daddy Martin said he would buy it for the Curlytops.
So one day Grandpa Martin hitched the horses to a big farm wagon, and away he andthe Curlytops rode, over the hills and far away, to another farm.
There the goat wagon was found, and it was a fine one. The wheels were strong and sound, and, best of all, they were the right size, so that the wagon did not roll along up and down and sidewise like a boat on a stormy mill-pond.
“The wobbly motion of our other wagon was nice,” said Jan, as she and Ted tried the new one, “but it made you feel just as if you had swung in a hammock too long.”
With the wagon also went a real set of goat harness, and Ted was delighted when he saw it.
“Nicknack can’t break away from the wagon in this,” he said. “Now we’ll have some fun! We can cart a lot of cherries in this wagon for you, Grandpa. You won’t be poor when cherries are ripe.”
“I hope not,” said the old gentleman, and he seemed to have to blow his nose very loudly, though before that he had no cold, as far as the Curlytops could see.
Nicknack seemed to like his new wagon as much as did Jan and Ted, and as for Trouble—well, he just wanted to sleep in it. But, of course, that could not be allowed.
“Though you may ride in it as much as you like,” said his mother.
One day the Curlytops, taking Trouble with them, set off for a little ride in the new goat wagon. Grandma Martin stuffed in many, many cushions, so if anyone fell out or the cart overturned no one would be hurt. In spite of the number of pillows, there was still room for at least five small children.
“If we see anybody who wants a ride we can give it to them,” explained Ted, as he saw the extra room in the wagon.
“And we’ve got lots of room to carry our lunch,” said Jan, who liked to play tea-party.
This time they rode to a new part of Cherry Farm—or, at least, a part they had not visited for some time. It was near a country road, and was mostly used for grazing horses and cattle.
As the Curlytops drove Nicknack near the fence, on the other side of which was the farm of another man, they saw a boy sitting under a tree. Just then a puff of wind took off Trouble’s hat and blew it toward this boy. He looked up as it sailed near him, and with a stick caught it.
“Hello there!” he cried, on seeing the goatcart with the three children in it. “Is this your hat?”
“It’s Trouble’s, if you please,” answered Jan.
“Trouble? Do you mean it made a lot of trouble blowing off? But it isn’t any trouble for me to bring it to you, though I can’t come so very fast,” and as he came along the Curlytops saw that he was a lame boy, and had to hobble on one foot, dragging the other after him.
“Hold on! Wait a minute! I’ll come and get the hat!” cried Ted quickly, as he saw what the matter was. “Don’t go to all that trouble.”
“It isn’t any trouble,” was the smiling answer, and, somehow, Jan liked the way that lame boy smiled. It was so happy, she said afterward. “No trouble at all!” he fairly sang the words.
“Dat’s Trouble’s hat!” piped up Baby William. “Dat’s mine!”
“What’s that?” asked the lame boy, pausing, and then hopping on again.
“Oh, we call the little chap Trouble, just for a nickname,” explained Ted. “It was his hat that blew off. Thank you for bringing it to us.”
“You’re welcome—heaps!” said the other, as he leaned on the fence, after he had handed over the hat. “Say, that’s a dandy wagon and goat you’ve got there!” he added, his eyes shining.
“Yes, it’s pretty good,” admitted Ted. “Like to have a ride?” he asked.
“Please come,” added Jan, in a low voice, and she tried not to look at his poor, twisted foot, though she could see it plainly through the rails of the fence.
“We’s dot lots to eat!” added Trouble, smiling.
“That’s so,” grinned Ted.
“Then I guess I’ll come,” laughed the lame boy.
“Do you want me to—I mean—er—that is, can’t I help you—over the fence, you know?” asked Ted, speaking rather stammeringly and awkwardly, for he did not like to mention the other’s lame foot.
“Oh,thatdoesn’t bother me!” exclaimed the boy. “I can climb higher fences than this. Here I come!”
With a spring, a bound, a wiggle and a climb he was up, over and down, standing beside the goat, which he began to pat as though he loved animals.
“Here, sit on this cushion,” said Jan, in the same low voice.
She got down from the wagon, taking a cushion with her. Ted followed, helping Baby William to the ground. The lame boy looked at Jan with a warm light in his gray eyes.