Bikey the Skicycle and Other Tales of Jimmieboy Part 23

When he waked he was rejoiced to find them, but he has often told me since that the finest valentine he ever got was the one Uncle Periwinkle thought he wouldn't like as well as the candy; and I believe he still has hopes that the invisible valentine may turn up again some day, bringing with him his friend the broomstick who will take Jimmieboy off for a visit to the twinkling stars.

THE MAGIC SLED

_THE MAGIC SLED_

When Jimmieboy waked up the other morning the ground was white with snow and his heart was rejoiced. Like many another small youth Jimmieboy has very little use for green winters. He likes them white. Somehow or other they do not seem like winters if they haven't plenty of snow and he had been much afraid that the season was going to pa.s.s away without bringing to him an opportunity to use the beautiful sled Santa Claus had brought him at Christmas.

It was a fine sled, one of the finest he had ever seen. It had a red back, yellow runners and two swan heads standing erect in front of it to tell it which way it should go. On the red surface of the back was painted its name in very artistic blue letters, and that name was nothing more nor less than "Magic."

"Hooray," he cried as he rushed to the window and saw the dazzling silver coating on the lawn and street. "Snow at last! Now I can see if Magic can slide."

He dressed hastily--so hastily in fact that he had to undress again, because it was discovered by his mother, who came to see how he was getting along, that he had put on his stocking wrong side out, and that his left shoe was making his right foot uncomfortable.

"Don't be in such a hurry," said his Mamma. "There was a man once who was always in such a hurry that he forgot to take his head down town with him one day, and when lunch time came he hadn't anything with him to eat his lunch with."

"But I want to slide," said Jimmieboy, "and I'm afraid there'll be a slaw come along and melt the snow."

Jimmieboy always called thaws slaws, so his mother wasn't surprised at this remark, and in a few minutes the boy was ready to coast.

"Come along, Magic!" he said, gleefully catching up the rope. "We'll see now if Uncle Periwinkle was right when he said he didn't think you'd go more'n a mile a minute, unless you had a roller-skate on both your runners."

And then, though Jimmieboy did not notice it, the left-hand swan-head winked its eye at the other swan-head and whispered, "Humph! It's plain Uncle Periwinkle doesn't know that we are a magic sled."

"Well, why should he?" returned the other swan-head, with a laugh. "He never slode on us."

"I'm glad I'm not an uncle," said the left-hand head. "Uncles don't know half as much as we do."

"And why should they!" put in the other. "They haven't had the importunities we have for gaining knowledge. A man who has lived all his days in one country and which has never slad around the world like us has, don't see things the way us would."

And still Jimmieboy did not notice that the swan-heads were talking together, though I can hardly blame him for that, because, now that he was out of doors he had to keep his eyes wide open to keep from b.u.mping his head into the snow b.a.l.l.s the hired man was throwing at him. In a few minutes, however, he did notice the peculiar fact and he was so surprised that he sat plump down on the red back of the sled and was off for--well, where the sled took him, and of all the slides that ever were slid, that was indeed the strangest. No sooner had he sat down than with a leap that nearly threw him off his balance, the swans started.

The steel runners crackled merrily over the snow, and the wind itself was soon left behind.

"C-can you sus-swans tut-talk?" Jimmieboy cried, in amazement, as soon as he could get his breath.

"Oh, no, of course not," said the right-hand swan. "_We_ can't talk, can we Swanny?"

"No, indeed, Swayny," returned the other with a laugh. "You may think we talk, you may even hear words from our lips, we might even recite a poem, but that wouldn't be talk--oh, no, indeed. Certainly not."

"It's a queer question for him to ask, eh Swanny?" said the right-hand head.

"Extraordinary, Swayny," said the one on the left. "Might as well ask a locomotive if it smokes."

"Well, I only wanted to know," said Jimmieboy.

"He only wanted to know, Swanny," said Swayny.

"I presume that was why he asked--as though we didn't know that," said Swanny. "He'd ask a pie-man with a tray full of pies, if he had any pies, I believe."

"Yes, or a cat if he could miaou. Queer boy," returned Swayny. And then he added:

"I think a boy, who'd waste his time In asking questions such as that, Would ask a man, who dealt in rhyme If he'd a head inside his hat."

Jimmieboy laughed.

"You know poetry, don't you," he said.

"Well, rather," said Swayny. "That is to say, I can tell it from a church steeple."

"Which reminds me," put in Swanny, as strange to say, this wonderful sled began to slide up a very steep hill, "of a conundrum I never heard before. What's the difference between writing poetry the way some people do and building a steeple as all people do?"

"I can't say," said Swayny, "though if you'll tell me the answer now next time you ask that conundrum I'll be able to inform you."

"Some people who write poetry run it into the ground," said Swanny, "and all people who build steeples, run 'em up into the air."

"That's not bad," said Jimmieboy, with a smile.

"No," said Swanny, "it is not--but you don't know why."

"I don't indeed," observed Jimmieboy. "Why?"

"Because my conundrums never are," said Swanny.

"EUROPE!" cried Swayny. "_Five minutes for refreshments._"

"What _do_ you mean?" said Jimmieboy, as the sled came to a standstill.

"What does any conductor mean when he calls out the name of a station?"

said Swayny scornfully. "He means that's where you are at of course.

Which is what I mean. We've arrived at Europe. That's the kind of a fast mail sled we are. In three minutes we've carried you up hill and down dale, over the sea to Europe."

"Really?" cried Jimmieboy, dumfounded.

"Certainly," said Swanny. "You are now in Europe. That blue place you see over on the right is Germany, off to the left is France and that little pink speck is Switzerland. See that glistening thing just on the edge of the pink speck?"

"Yes," said Jimmieboy.

"That's an Alp," said Swanny. "It's too bad we've got to get you home in time for breakfast. If we weren't in such a hurry, we'd let you off so that you could buy an Alp to take home to your brother. You could have snow-b.a.l.l.s all through the summer if you had an Alp in your nursery, but we can't stop now to get it. We've got to runaway immediately. Ready Swayny?"

"Yes," said Swayny. "ALL ABOARD FOR ENGLAND. Pa.s.sengers will please keep their seats until the sled comes to a standstill in the station."

And then they were off again.