Page 17 of Bruvver Jim's Baby


  CHAPTER XVII

  SKEEZUCKS GETS A NAME

  When the three small girls, so rosy of cheek and so sparkling of eye,confronted the grave little pilgrim he could only gaze upon them withtimid yearning as he clung to his doll and to old "Bruvver Jim." Therenever had been in all his life a vision so beautiful. Old Jim himselfwas affected almost as much as the quaint, wee man so quietly standingat his side. Even Tintoretto was experiencing ecstasies heretoforeunknown in his youthful career.

  Indeed, no one could have determined by any known system of calculationwhether Jim or tiny Skeezucks or the pup most enjoyed the coming of thepreacher and his family. Old Jim had certainly never before undergoneemotions so deeply stirring. Tintoretto had never before beheld fouryoungsters affording such a wealth of opportunity for puppy-wisemanoeuvres; indeed, he had never before seen but one little playfellowsince his advent in the world. He was fairly crazed with optimism. Asfor Skeezucks--starving for even so much as the sight of children,hungering beyond expression for the sound of youngster voices, for thelaughter and over-bubblings of the little folk with whom by rights hebelonged--nothing in the way of words will ever tell of the almostoverpowering excitement and joy that presently leaped in his lonelylittle heart.

  Honesty is the children's policy. There was nothing artificial in theway those little girls fell in love with tiny Skeezucks; and withequally engaging frankness the tiny man instantly revealed his fondnessfor them all.

  They were introduced as Susie and Rachie and Ellie. Their other namewas Stowe. This much being soon made known, the three regarded theirrights to the house, to little Skeezucks, and to Tintoretto asestablished. They secured the pup by two of his paws and his tail,and, with him thus in hand, employed him to assist in surrounding tinySkeezucks, whom they promptly kissed and adopted.

  "Girls," said the father, mildly, "don't be rude."

  "They're all right," drawled Jim, in a new sort of pleasure. "Thereare some kinds of rudeness a whole lot nicer than politeness."

  "What's his name?" said Susie, lifting her piquant little face up toJim, whom all the Stowe family had liked at once. "Has he got anyname?"

  In a desperate groping for his inspiration, Jim thought instantly ofall his favorites--Diogenes, Plutarch, Endymion, Socrates, Kit Carson,and Daniel Boone.

  "Wal, yes. His name--" and there old Jim halted, while "Di" and "Plu"and "Indy" and "Soc" all clamored in his brain for the honor. "Hisname--I reckon his name is Carson Boone."

  "Little Carson," said Rachie. "Isn't Carson a sweet little boy, mammy?What's he got--a rabbit?"

  "That's his doll," said Jim.

  "Oh, papa, look!" said Rachie.

  "Oh, papa, look!" echoed Susie.

  "Papa, yook!" piped Ellie, the youngest, who wanted the dolly forherself, and, therefore, hauled at it lustily.

  The others endeavored to prevent her depredations. Between them theytore the precious creation from the hands of the tiny man, and releasedthe pup, who immediately leaped up and fastened a hold on the dollhimself, to the horror of the preacher, Miss Doc, old Jim, Mrs. Stowe,and Skeezucks, all of whom, save the newly christened little Carson,pounced upon the children, the doll, and Tintoretto, with one accord.And there is nothing like a pounce upon a lot of children or a pup tomake folks well acquainted.

  Her "powder-flask" ladyship being duly rescued, her raiment smoothed,and her head readjusted on her body, the three small, healthy girlswere perpetually enjoined from another such exhibition of covetingtheir neighbor's doll, whereupon all conceived that new diversion mustbe forthwith invented.

  "You can have a lot of fun with all them Christmas presents in thecorner," Jim informed them, in the great relief he felt himself to seethe quaint little foundling once more in undisputed possession of hisone beloved toy. "They 'ain't got any feelin's."

  Miss Doc had carefully piled the presents in a tidy pyramid against thewall, in the corner designated, after which she had covered the pilewith a sheet. This sheet came off in a hurry. The pup filled hismouth with a yard of the white material, and, growling in joy, shook itmadly and raced away with it streaming in his wake. Miss Doc and Mrs.Stowe gave chase immediately. Tintoretto tripped at once, but evenwhen the women had caught the sheet in their hands he hung onprodigiously, and shook the thing, and growled and braced his weightagainst their strength, to the uncontainable delight of all the littleStowe contingent.

  Then they fell on the presents, to which they conveyed little Carson,in the intimate way of hugging in transit that only small mothers-to-behave ever been known to develop.

  "Oh, papa, look at the funny old bottle!" said Susie, taking up one ofthe "sort of kaliderscopes" in her hand.

  "Papa, mamma, look!" added Rachie.

  "Papa--yook!" piped Ellie, as before, laying violent hands ofpossession on the toy.

  "You can have it," said Susie; "I'm goin' to have the red wagon."

  "Oh, papa, look at the pretty red wagon!", said Rachie, droppinganother of the kaleidoscopes with commendable promptness.

  "Me!--yed yaggon!" cried Ellie.

  "Children, children!" said the preacher, secretly amused andentertained. "Don't you know the presents all belong to little Carson?"

  "Well, we didn't get anything but mittens and caps," said Rachie, inthe baldest of candor.

  "Go ahead and enjoy the things," instructed Jim. "Skeezucks, do youwant the little girls to play with all the things?"

  The little fellow nodded. He was happier far than ever he had been inall his life.

  "But they ought to play with one thing at a time, and not drop oneafter another," said the mild Mrs. Stowe, blushing girlishly.

  "I like to see them practise at changin' their minds," drawled theminer, philosophically. "I'd be afraid of a little gal that didn'tbegin to show the symptoms."

  But all three of the bright-eyed embryos of motherhood had united on aplan. They sat the grave little Carson in the red-painted wagon, withhis doll held tightly to his heart, and began to haul him about.

  Tintoretto, who had dragged off an alphabetical block, was engrossed inthe task of eating off and absorbing the paint and elements ofeducation, with a gusto that savored of something that might and mightnot have been ambition. He abandoned this at once, however, to racebeside or behind or before the wagon, and to help in the pulling bylaying hold of any of the children's dresses that came most readilywithin reach of his jaws.

  The ride became a romp, for the pup was barking, the wheels werecreaking, and the three small girls were crying out and laughing at thetops of their voices. They drew their royal coach through every roomin the house--which rooms were five in number--and then began anew.

  Back and forth and up and down they hastened, the pup and tinySkeezucks growing more and more delighted as their lively littlefriends alternately rearranged him, kissed him, crept on all foursbeside him, and otherwise added adornments to the pageant. In anoutburst of enthusiasm, Tintoretto made a gulp at the off hind-wheel ofthe wagon, and, sinking his teeth in the wood thereof, not onlyprevented its revolutions, but braced so hard that the smallest girl,who was pulling at the moment, found herself suddenly stalled. To heraid her two sturdy little sisters darted, and the three gave a mightytug, to haul the pup and all.

  But the unexpected happened. The wheel came off. The pup let out ayell of consternation and turned a back somersault; the three littleStowes went down in a heap of legs and heads, while the wagon lurchedabruptly and gave the tiny passenger a jolt that astonished himmightily. The three small girls scrambled to their feet, awed intosilence by their breaking of the wagon.

  For a moment the hush was impressive. Then the gravity began to gofrom the face of little Carson. Something was dancing in his eyes.His quaint little face wrinkled oddly in mirth. His head went back,and the sweetest conceivable chuckle of baby laughter came from hislips. Like joy of bubbling water in a brook, it rippled in music neverbefore awakened. Old Jim and Miss Doc looked at each other in completeamazement, but th
e little fellow laughed and laughed and laughed. Hisheart was overflowing, suddenly, with all the laughing and joy that hadnever before been invited to his heart. The other youngsters joinedhim in his merriment, and so did the preacher and pretty Mrs. Stowe;and so did Jim and Miss Doc, but these two laughed with tears warmlywelling from their eyes.

  It seemed as if the fatherless and motherless little foundling laughedfor all the days and weeks and months of sadness gone beyond his babyrecall. And this was the opening only of his frolic and fun with thechildren. They kissed him in fondness, and planted him promptly in asecond of the wagons. They knew a hundred devices for bringing him joyand merriment, not the least important of which was the irresistiblemarch of destruction on the rough-made Christmas treasures.

  That evening a dozen rough and awkward men of the camp came casually into visit Miss Doc, whose old-time set of thoughts and ideas had beenshattered, till in sheer despair of getting them all in proper orderonce again she let them go and joined in the general outbreak ofamusement.

  There were games of hide-and-seek, in which the four happy children andthe men all joined with equal irresponsibility, and games ofblind-man's-buff, that threatened the breaking to pieces of the house.Through it all, old Jim and the preacher, Mrs. Stowe and Miss Doc werebecoming more and more friendly.

  At last the day and the evening, too, were gone. The tired youngsters,all but little Skeezucks, fell asleep, and were tucked into bed. Eventhe pup was exhausted. Field and the blacksmith, Lufkins, Bone, Keno,and the others thought eagerly of the morrow, which would come so soon,and go so swiftly, and leave them with no little trio of girls rompingwith their finally joyous bit of a boy.

  When at length they were ready to say good-night to tiny Carson, he wassitting again on the knee of the gray old miner. To every one he gavea sweet little smile, as they took his soft, baby hand for a shake.

  And when they were gone, and sleep was coming to hover him softly inher wings, he held out both his little arms in a gesture of longingthat seemed to embrace the three red caps and all this happier world hebegan to understand.

  "Somebody--wants 'ittle--Nu-thans," he sighed, and his tiny mouth wassmiling when his eyes had closed.