CHAPTER VIII
SWEET AND SOUR
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"Oh, we're down in the land where the jasmine blows, And the cypress waves and the orange grows,
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And the song bird nests in the climbing rose-- And all the girls are beautiful, and milk and honey flows."
HORATIO paused in his playing and looked at Bosephus, who was ready tosing another stanza.
"Look here, Bo," he said gravely, "that sounds very pretty and may bevery good poetry and true enough, but I wouldn't get to singing too muchabout jasmine and song birds and climbing roses if I were you, andespecially girls. You are only a little boy, and besides, I can't seethat there is any difference in girls, except that some are plump andsome are not, and that isn't any difference to me, now," and the Bearsighed and strummed on his violin gently.
"Oh, pshaw, Ratio! There's lots of difference. Some girls are yellow andsour as a lemon, while some are as pink and sweet and blooming as acreole rose"----
"Bosephus," interrupted the Bear gravely, "you've got a touch of theswamp fever. Let me see your tongue!"
Bo stuck out his tongue.
"My tongue's all right," he grinned. "That kind of fever's in theheart."
Horatio looked alarmed.
"You must take something for it right away, Bo," he declared. "I can'thave you singing silly songs about jasmine and cypress and girls in milkand honey. You know we haven't seen any honey since we left Arkansaw,and I'd travel all the way back there on foot to rob one good honeytree. I'm getting tired of so much of this stuff they call sugar andcane and the like."
"Why they have honey here, Ratio, too. I haven't seen any bee trees, butI've seen plenty of bees. I suppose they are in hives--boxes that peoplekeep for them to live in."
"Where do they have those boxes, Bo?"
"Well, in their yards mostly; generally out by the back fence."
"Could we rob them?"
"Well, I shouldn't like to try it."
The Bear walked along some distance in silence. The boy was alsothinking and singing softly to himself. He was very happy. Presently helooked up and saw just ahead, in a field near the road, a tree loadedwith oranges.
"Look, Ratio!" he said. "Don't you wish we had some of those?"
The Bear looked up and began to lick out his tongue.
"Climb over and get some, Bo," he said eagerly.
"Not much. I haven't forgotten the roasting ears and the watermelon wegot from old man Todd in Arkansaw. We might go to the house and ask forsome.
"Nonsense, Bosephus. Watch me!"
He handed Bo the fiddle, and running lightly to the hedge cleared it ata bound.
"Fine!" shouted Bo.
Horatio, without pausing, hurried over to the tree.
"Funny they should leave those oranges so late," thought the little boyas he watched him.
Swinging himself to the first limb, the Bear shook off a lot of the fineyellow fruit, and climbing down, gathered in his arms all he couldcarry. As he did so there came a loud barking of dogs, and withoutlooking behind him he started to run. He dropped a few of the oranges,but kept straight on, the two huge dogs that had appeared getting closerand closer. As he reached the hedge he once more made a grand leap, butthe oranges prevented him doing so well as before. His foot caught inthe top branches and he rolled over and over in the dusty road, theoranges flying in every direction. The dogs behind the hedge barked andraged.
Horatio rose, dusty and panting, but triumphant.
"You see, Bo," he said, "what it is to be brave. You can fill yourpockets now with these delicious oranges."
He picked up one as he spoke, and brushing off the dust, bit it in halfcheerfully. Then Bo, who was watching him, saw a strange thing takeplace. The half orange flew out of the Bear's mouth as from a popgun,and his face became so distorted that the boy thought his friend washaving a spasm. Suddenly he whirled, and making a rush at the fallenoranges, began to kick them in every direction, coughing and spittingevery second. The two dogs looking over the hedge stopped barking toenjoy the fun. One of the oranges rolled to Bo's feet. He picked it upand smelled it. Then rubbing it on his coat he bit into it. It was not alarge bite, but it was enough. The tears rolled from his eyes and everytooth in his head jumped. Such a mixture of stinging sour and bitter hehad never dreamed of. It grabbed him by the throat and shook him untilhis bones cracked. The top of his head seemed coming loose, and his earsfairly snapped. Then he realized what Horatio must be suffering, andlaughed in spite of himself.
FLEW OUT OF HIS MOUTH AS FROM A POP GUN.]
"They are mock oranges, Ratio," he shouted, "and they are mocking us forstealing them!"
Horatio had seated himself by the roadside and was snorting and clawingat his tongue.
"I must have some honey, Bo," he said, "to take away that dreadfultaste. You must find me some honey, Bo."
"You see, Ratio," said the little boy, "it doesn't pay to take things."
"Bosephus," said the Bear, "a man who will plant a tree like that sonear the road deceives wilfully and should be punished."
They walked along slowly, the two dogs barking after them from behindthe hedge.
Just beyond the next bend in the road a beautiful plantation came intoview. They turned into the cane yard and immediately the workhandssurrounded them. Horatio felt better by this time, and they began aperformance. First Bo sang and then Horatio gave a gymnastic exhibition.Then at last Bo sang a closing verse as follows:--
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"Now our little show is ended, and we hope you think it splendid, And we trust we've not offended or displeased you anywhere,
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You have paid us to be funny, and we thank you for the money, But I'd like a little honey for the Old--Black--Bear.
Horatio smiled when he heard this, and the planter who was listeningsent one of the servants to the house. He came out soon with a piece offresh honey on a plate. He offered it to Horatio, who handed Bo theviolin, and seizing the plate, swallowed the honey at one gulp. Thismade the crowd shout and laugh, and then Bo shook hands with the planterand said good-bye, and all the darkies came up and wanted to shakehands, too. When he had shaken hands all around the little boy turned tolook for Horatio. He was nowhere in sight. The others had not noticedhim slip away.
Bo was troubled. When Horatio disappeared like that it meant mischief.He had promised reform as to pickaninnies, but Bo was never quite sure.He was about to ask the people to run in every direction in search ofhis comrade when there was a sudden commotion in the back door yard, anda moment later a black figure dashed through the gate with somethingunder its arm. It was Horatio! The crowd of darkies took one look andscattered. The thing under Horatio's arm was a square, box lookingaffair, and out of it was streaming a black, living cloud.
"Bees!" shouted the people as they fled. "Bees! Bees!"
Bo understood instantly. The taste of honey had made Horatio greedy formore. He had gone in search of it and returned with hive and all. Therewas a clump of tall weeds just behind the little boy, and he droppeddown into them. They hid him from view, and none too soon, for the Beardashed past, snorting and striking at the swarm of stingers that notonly covered him, but fiercely attacked everything in sight. Howls beganto come from some of the hands that had failed to find shelter in time,and Bo, peeping out between the weeds, saw half a dozen darkiesfrantically trying to open the big door of the sugar house, which hadbeen hastily closed by those within, while the angry bees were peltingfuriously at the unfortunates.
THE BEAR DASHED PAST, SNORTING.]
As for Horatio, he was coated with bees that were trying to stingthrough his thick fur. He did not mind them at first, but presentlythey began to get near his eyes. With a snarl he dropped the hive andbegan to paw and strike with both hands. Then they swarmed about himworse than ever, and, half blinded, he began to run around and aroundwith no regard as to direction. Every darky in sight fled like the wind.Some of the
m ran out of the gate and down the road, and without seeingthem, perhaps, the Bear suddenly leaped the fence and set out in thesame direction. Glancing back, they saw him coming and began to shriekand scatter into the fields.
Bo waited some minutes; then, noticing that the maddened insects were nolonger buzzing viciously over him, he crept out and followed. He stillheld the violin and was glad enough to get away from the plantation. Thebees had followed the fugitive, and the boy kept far enough behind to beout of danger. By and by he met bees coming back, but perhaps they weretired or thought he belonged to another crowd, for they did not molesthim. A mile further on he found Horatio sitting in the road rocking andgroaning and throwing dust on himself. His eyes and nose were swollen ingreat knots, and his ears were each puffed up like little balloons. Thebees had left him, but his sorrow was at its height.
"Hello, Ratio! Having fun all alone?" asked Bo as he came up.
"Oh, Bo, this has been an awful day!" was the wailing reply. "Firstthose terrible oranges and then these millions and millions of murderousbees. And now I am blind, Bo, and dying. Tell me, Bo, how do I look?"
"Oh, you look all right. Your nose looks like a big potato and your earslike two little ones. I can't tell you how your eyes are, for they don'tshow, but your whole skin looks as if it had been stuffed full of applesand put on in a hurry."
"Bo," said Horatio meekly, "did you bring the fiddle?"
HE FOUND HORATIO SITTING IN THE ROAD, ROCKING ANDGROANING.]
"Well, yes; I thought it might happen that we'd need it again."
Horatio put out his paw for it. The boy gave it to him and he ran thebow gently over the strings.
"Sing, Bo," he pleaded. "Sing that song about jasmine and cypress andclimbing roses. It will soothe me. Sing about girls, too, if you wantto, but leave out the oranges, Bo, and put in something else besideshoney in the last line."
"Ratio," said Bo, "you've got a touch of the swamp fever. Let me seeyour tongue!"