Freddy Goes to Florida (9 page)

Then the Grandfather of All the Alligators came up to the top of the water again and opened his eyes and said: “I thank you for telling us of your wonderful country. It has been very interesting. And now, as it is almost supper-time, we will go on with the feast. I am sure you will all taste very much better for the entertainment you have given us.”

At this the animals were very much alarmed. “You don't mean to say you meant to eat us all the time!” they cried.

“Why, of course,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators. “Nothing was ever said about our
not
eating you, was there?”

This made the animals very angry, and Jinx was so mad that he almost had a fit. “You mean to say,” he screamed, “that you've gone and let us talk ourselves hoarse for nothing, you great big, muddy, long-nosed, leather-skinned hippopotamus, you? You ought to be ashamed of yourself! What do you suppose all the animals up north are going to think of you when they hear about it? Eating up visitors who come to make you a friendly call! A nice opinion they'll get of Florida!”

“My goodness, I should say so!” exclaimed Mrs. Wiggins. “And the President of the United States, too. He shook hands with us and wished us a pleasant journey. What'll
he
say?”

“He'll send his army down here and drive all you alligators into the ocean; that's what he'll do!” said Jinx.

The Grandfather of All the Alligators smiled, and his smile was eight feet broad. “What you say may be so,” he remarked. “
But
—who's going to tell him? Answer me that. Who's going to tell him? You, madam?” he asked Mrs. Wiggins. “No-o-o, I think not. You'll be eaten up, horns, hoofs and tail. And so——”

But Henrietta interrupted. “
We're
going to tell him,” she said. “My husband and I. You may eat the animals, but you can't eat us, because you can't catch us.
We
can fly.”

“My dear,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators, “I am more than eight hundred years old. I was centuries old when Ponce de Leon came to Florida to look for the Fountain of Youth. I remember Balboa well—a tall man with a black beard and a shiny steel hat. He made the same mistake you did, my friends—he mistook me for a log. But he was more fortunate than you. He got away with merely the loss of one of his boots.” The Grandfather of All the Alligators smiled at the memory. “A delicious boot that was, too—old Spanish leather. I chewed on it for half a day.

“Yes, as I was saying, I am very old. Yet in all my eight hundred years I have never seen or heard of a hen or a rooster who could fly like other birds.”

Now it is true that hens and roosters cannot fly as well as most birds, but they don't like to be reminded of it. Henrietta became very angry.

“Is that so!” she exclaimed. “Well, if you've kept your eyes shut for eight hundred years, it's no wonder you don't know anything! Never saw a rooster who could fly, eh? Well, you're going to see one now. Charles,” she said to her husband, “fly up in those trees on the other side of the water.”

Now the trees were quite a long way off, and Charles had never in his life flown farther than from the ground to the top of a fence. “Good gracious, Henrietta,” he whispered, “I can't fly up there. I won't be able to go half that distance, and I'll drop into the water and the alligators will eat me.”

“They'll certainly eat you if you
don't
fly up there,” she whispered back. “You've
got
to do it. It's our one chance of escaping. If they think you will go back and tell the President, they will let us go.”

“Well, I'll try it,” said Charles. So he kissed Henrietta good-bye and squared his shoulders and flapped his wings and started, while all the animals cheered, and the alligators giggled and poked each other in the ribs with their elbows.

Charles flew up into the air—up, up, higher than he had ever been before, as high as the tops of the trees. And then he started across the water.

Down below, the animals held their breath as they watched him. They saw him flapping his wings so hard that feathers flew out of them and floated downward. But he could not get any higher; he was coming slowly down toward the water, and two of the alligators plunged in and swam out to be under him when he came down.

“He'll never make it,” said Mrs. Wiggins sadly. “Never in the world!”

But suddenly they saw him stop moving his wings. He spread them out and held them motionless, and then, to the amazement of all the onlookers, he went straight across the water—faster, faster, and landed with a flutter in the trees.

What had happened was this. There was a strong wind blowing across the swamp, but the island, shut in by walls of high trees, was like a room, and the wind did not come down there at all. It was this wind that had caught Charles and blown him safely across, but of course none of the onlookers knew this, and they thought that he had done it himself.

Then all the animals set up a great cheer, and the alligators had nothing to say at all, and the Grandfather of All the Alligators opened his eyes wider than he had opened them in six hundred years and exclaimed: “Well, upon my word! I never should have believed it! Never!”

But Henrietta said: “
Now
what are you going to do about eating us?”

“Why, that was all a joke, my dear,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators. “We alligators will have our little joke, you know. Do tell your accomplished husband to come back, so that we can thank him for this fine exhibition, and then he will show you the way out of the swamp, and part in peace and goodwill.”

“
We alligators will have our little joke, you know
.”

“Oh yes, you old fraud!” said Henrietta. “Ask him to come back so you can eat him? No, Charles will stay right where he is, in the top of that tree.”

“Your suspicions are most unjust,” said the Grandfather of All the Alligators with a sigh. “We wouldn't harm him for worlds. We respect and admire him greatly. However, I see you are anxious to be gone, and it is indeed getting late. My children,” he said to the other alligators, “show these animals safely to the edge of the swamp, and see that no harm comes to them. Good-bye, my friends. I thank you one and all for your entertainment. I am sorry that you took our little joke in earnest. However, that is past now. No hard feelings, I trust?”

“Oh, none at all!” said Henrietta sarcastically. And the Grandfather of All the Alligators sank slowly out of sight.

The alligators showed the animals a dry and easy path to the edge of the swamp, and they were very happy when they were on dry land once more. Charles had not come down within reach of the alligators, but had fluttered along in the tree-tops. Then the alligators said good-bye and wished them a pleasant journey.

When the animals had gone on a little way, they looked back and saw the alligators sitting in a row and looking after them, and great tears were rolling from their eyes and dropping to the ground, and the sound of their sobbing could be heard for miles.

“Why, I believe they really are sorry to have us go,” said Alice, the duck. “I suppose it
is
lonesome in that dreary swamp.”

“Humph!” said Henrietta. “Of course they're sorry! But they're not crying because they like us. They're crying because they'll have to go to bed without their supper to-night.”

XIII

Now after the adventure with the alligators the animals rested for two days, and then they went on seeing the sights of Florida. They made a great many pleasant friends among the natives, and even Mr. and Mrs. Webb made the acquaintance of a number of very interesting and agreeable spiders, with whom they discussed fly-catching, and compared notes on weaving and other matters of interest.

But at last one morning when they awoke, the sky was full of flocks of birds—bluebirds and blackbirds and red-wings and yellow-hammers and purple grackles—all flying steadily northward. And then they knew that spring had come and it was time for them to be starting back home.

“Well, I for one shall be glad to get back,” said Mrs. Wiggins. “We've had a grand time travelling, but home's a pretty good place. The snow is all gone by this time, I expect, and Mr. Bean is getting ready to plant his potatoes and corn and cabbages.”

“And the old elm by the barn is all covered with buds,” said Charles.

“And the ice is gone out of the duck pond,” said Alice and Emma.

“And Mr. Bean will need me to help with the spring ploughing,” said Hank.

“Come along, animals,” said Freddy. “Let's start.” And so they said good-bye to Florida and started home.

They had been travelling for about a week when they came one morning to a big field which was all heaped with tin cans and old shoes and ashes and rubbish of all kinds. There were prickly thistles growing in the field, and a goat was eating them.

“Good-morning, goat,” said Freddy.

“Good-morning, pig,” said the goat. “Have a thistle? They're delicious.”

“No, thanks,” said Freddy.

“Have you ever eaten one?” asked the goat.

“No,” said Freddy. “They never looked very good to me.”

“You'd be surprised,” said the goat, “how tasty they are. Just take a nip of this big one here.”

Freddy didn't want to try the thistle, but he was always very polite and didn't like to hurt the goat's feelings, so he took a large bite.

As soon as he had taken the bite, he wished he hadn't. The prickles tickled his mouth horribly and stuck into his tongue, and he coughed and sneezed and squealed and grunted and ran round and round in circles, while the other animals laughed and the goat looked at him in surprise. And at last he got it out of his mouth.

“I'm very sorry,” said the goat. “Perhaps there was something the matter with that one. Now
here's
a nice one. Or perhaps you'd rather have a bit of old boot. There were two fine ones left here yesterday. I've eaten one, but——”

“No, thank you,” said Freddy firmly. “Some people say a pig will eat anything, but really——One must draw the line somewhere, and I draw it at old boots.”

“Well, well,” said the goat with a sigh, “there's no accounting for tastes. I hoped that I might persuade you animals to settle down and live here with me. But of course if you don't like thistles, or boots——”

“We don't,” said Mrs. Wiggins. “Any of us.”

“Then that settles it,” said the goat sorrowfully. “Because there's really nothing else here. I like it. But it's very lonesome. No one to talk to all day but the stupid cart-horses who bring the rubbish here to be dumped. And I do like good conversation.”

He was so lonely that the animals spent the rest of the day with him and told him of their travels. Just as they were leaving, late in the afternoon, a farm wagon came along, piled high with rubbish. It belonged to a man who was moving into another house, and he had brought all the stuff that he didn't want to keep. He was going to throw it on the dump heap. On the very top of the load was a funny old-fashioned carriage.

The man threw the rubbish out of the wagon, carriage and all, and drove away.

“Must be some boots in that lot,” said the goat, licking his lips, and began poking round in the heap.

But Jinx and Freddy had walked over and were looking at the funny old-fashioned carriage. They talked together in undertones for a few minutes, and then Jinx said: “Hey, Hank! Come here. Do you suppose you could draw this carriage?”

“Draw
that?
” said Hank indignantly. “I've drawn heavier wagons than that many's the time.”

“Oh, I know you can draw it,” said Jinx. “What I mean is—can you draw it the way it is, without any harness and straps and things?”

“No,” said Hank. “I'd have to have a collar and traces and bridle and bit and surcingle and——”

“Oh, we don't know what any of those things are,” said Jinx, “and anyway we haven't got them. But here's an old piece of rope. Suppose we could tie that to the handles of the carriage and put it over your shoulders. Could you draw it then?”

“Why, I won't say I couldn't,” said Hank. “But what do you want the carriage for anyway?”

“If you can draw it,” said Jinx, “we can put the gold that we found in the ants' house in it and take it back to Mr. Bean.”

Hank thought this was a fine plan, so Freddy got the rope and Jinx tied it to the handles of the carriage. All cats are good at tying knots. The stupidest cat can tie forty knots in a ball of yarn in two minutes—and if you don't believe it, ask your grandmother. So this was easy for Jinx. And then they looped the rope over Hank's shoulders and he pulled the carriage up on to the road.

The carriage had two seats and the top was like a square umbrella, with fringe around the edges. It was called a phaeton, and if you think that is a funny name, all I can say is that it was a very funny carriage. The animals laughed like anything when they saw Hank pulling it out of the dump heap, and Mrs. Wiggins laughed so hard that she had to lie down right in the middle of all the old tin cans.