Anytime Tales (12 page)

Wags whined mournfully. Then Jack had a wonderful idea. He could pick Wags up gently, and put him on his blazer in the cab of the engine! Then he would pull the dog all the way to Air. Chip’s shop.

“You won’t be shaken too much because you’ll be on my blazer,” he told Wags. “I’m going to pick you up. I’ll try not to hurt you. Don’t bite me, will you, because I’m only trying to help you.”

Luckily Wags wouldn’t let go the paper he held in his mouth, so although he growled a little with pain when Jack gently lifted him, he couldn’t snap or bite.

Jack laid him on the blazer.

“Now you’ll be all right,” he said. “Soon be home, Wags!”

He dragged the engine slowly down the road, trying not to shake the hurt dog. Children followed him, and Wags growled again because he had been taught not to like boys and girls.

Soon Jack was at Mr. Chip’s shop. He left the engine outside and went in. Mr. Chip was sawing and didn’t see Jack at first. But when he caught sight of the boy out of the corner of his eye he pounced round on him at once.

“Ah! Got you this time!” he shouted.

“Mr. Chip! Don’t shake me! MR. CHIP!
WAGS
HAS
BEEN
HURT!” yelled Jack.

Mr. Chip stopped shaking him. “What’s that? Wags hurt? Where is he?”

“He got knocked down by a car,” said Jack. “I was there. He can’t walk with his back legs. So I put him in the cab of my big wooden engine, on my old blazer, and brought him along. He’s just outside. I couldn’t bring the engine up the steps.”

In a trice Mr. Chip was outside. In a trice he had Wags in his arms, and the dog dropped the newspaper and licked his master feebly. “I’m going to the vet!” said Mr. Chip to Jack. “Keep the shop for me while I’m gone. My poor dog! He’s badly hurt!”

Well! There was Jack left in charge of the carpenter’s shop! What an extraordinary thing! He looked all round it. He felt the big heavy hammers. He admired the little stool the carpenter was making. He wished he could try out the big plane and the saw. What a lovely shop to have!

His friends came peeping in at him, amazed to sec him there alone. He told them what had happened.

“Ooooh! We could take every single shaving off the floor while Mr. Chip’s gone!” said Kenneth at once.

“No. I’m in charge,” said Jack. “That would be a silly thing to do. Anyway, he’s dreadfully upset about Wags. We couldn’t do silly or mean things when he’s upset.”

“Serve him right!” said Ned. “I’m glad that bad-tempered dog is hurt.”

“Oh, no. You’d have been sorry if you’d seen him,” said Jack. “Leave those nails alone, Kenneth. You’re not to take a single one.”

“I wasn’t going to,” said Kenneth. “I was just

running them through my fingers. They feel nice.”

“Here’s Mr. Chip,” said Ned, suddenly, and all the boys ran away at once. Only Jack was left, standing in the shop. Mr. Chip came in. He hadn’t got Wags with him.

“Where’s Wags?” said Jack at once.

“I’ve left him at the vet’s,” said Mr. Chip. “Got to have something done to his legs, poor fellow.”

Jack was shocked to see tears in the carpenter’s eyes. He must love Wags very, very much.

“Will he be all right?” asked Jack.

“Perhaps,” said Mr. Chip. “Don’t know yet. I shall miss him badly. Thanks for bringing him back to me in that engine of yours.”

Jack went home. He forgot about taking his blazer to the cleaner’s, but when he told his mother what had happened she quite understood. People can’t think of dirty blazers when dogs are hurt.

Every day Jack went to Mr. Chip’s shop and asked the same question. “Any news of Wags?”

And Mr. Chip would tell him the latest news. “Not so good.” Or perhaps, “He’s better today.” And then, “He may be back next week.”

Once Mr. Chip asked Jack to bring back his afternoon paper for him. Jack stuck it into the cab of his engine with his other shopping. Mr. Chip stared at the big engine and said what a fine thing it was to bring back shopping in. Jack agreed. He was still rather scared of Mr. Chip, but he rather liked talking to him and watching him work. Mr. Chip didn’t chase him away now.

“Wags is coming home to-morrow!” said Mr. Chip at last. He was smiling all over his rather fierce face. “You might come in and see him. He can walk all right but he limps a bit still. Can you come? He’s got something for you.”

Jack did go the next day, of course. Wags was there, looking rather thin, and Limping quite a lot—but how his tail wagged when he saw Jack. He barked and then licked the boy all over on his knees and hands and face.

“Good to have him back again,” said Mr. Chip. “Now you come and see what he’s got for you, Jack. Just a little present for someone who did him a good turn. A good turn to someone who’s always yelled at you, and a good turn to a dog that’s been taught to bark at you and chase you off! That’s something worth doing.”

He took Jack into his little sitting-room behind the shop. Jack stared in astonishment and delight—for there, beautifully made, were three fine trucks, one painted red, one green and one yellow!

“Trucks for that fine engine of yours that pulled my Wags home that day,” said Mr. Chip. “A present from Wags himself!”

“Oh, Mr.
Chip!”
said Jack, and he flung his arms round Wags and hugged him. “Thank you, Wags, thank you. And thank
you,
Mr. Chip. You made them for me. They’re marvellous. Now all the children in my street can go shopping with me, and my engine can bring all the shopping home in its new trucks. I say! What
will
the boys say! You won’t mind them using the trucks you’ve made, will you?”

“Not a bit,” said Mr. Chip, delighted to see Jack’s excitement. “Come in any time you like, any of you, and watch me at work.”

You should have seen Jack going home with his engine and three gay trucks behind! All the boys came out to watch—what a wonderful sight! “Present from Wags and Mr. Chip,” said Jack proudly. “And Mr. Chip says we can go in his shop any time we like. What do you think of
that?”

And now Mr. Chip often has his shop full of boys, and he doesn’t mind a bit. As for Wags, he’s as happy as can be to have so many new friends. He still limps, so you’ll know him if you see him, by his limp and his crooked left hind leg. Give him a pat for me if you meet him!

There was once a very old, very proud doll. Her

name was Florrie, and she belonged to Katie. She was proud because she had belonged to Katie’s mother when
she
was a little girl—so you can guess that Florrie was very old indeed.

Now the other toys in the nursery wanted to be friends with Florrie—but Florrie thought herself far too grown-up and grand to bother with young toys like the smiling sailor-doll, the blue teddy-bear, the golden-haired doll, and the pretty Snow-White with her black hair.

“If you speak to me you must call me Madam,” she told the toys. “And pray don’t disturb me at night with your chatter and play. Be as quiet as you can.”

The toys giggled. They thought Florrie was very funny. She had a big china head with brown hair, rather tangled. Her dress, which was of blue silk spotted yellow, came to her feet, and she wore brown kid shoes with laces. A pink sash was tied round her waist.

“She’s so old-fashioned!” whispered the toys to one another. “She won’t play or laugh—she just goes for lonely walks round the nursery by herself. I wonder what she’s made of—rubber, do you think?”

Nobody knew. The golden-haired doll was made of rubber and could be bathed. Snow-White had a pink velvet body, very soft and cuddlesome. They couldn’t think
what
Florrie was made of.

Well, she was stuffed with sawdust, just as all old dolls were! But she didn’t tell anyone this, for she felt a little ashamed of it. She went each night for her long walks round the nursery, and turned up her china nose at any toy she met.

And then one night the teddy-bear saw a curious thing. He noticed that wherever Florrie went she left a thin trail of something behind her. Whatever could it be?

He went to look at it. It seemed like thick yellow dust to him. He did not know what sawdust was, for he had never seen any. Could it be some powder that Florrie used?

He called the other toys and told them about it. They watched Florrie, and saw that it was quite true. She did leave a little trail of dust behind her wherever she went!

Florrie didn’t notice it, of course. You can’t see much when your nose is in the air. But soon the toys began to notice something else too.

“Florae’s getting thinner!” whispered the teddy-bear to Snow-White. “Isn’t it strange?”

Snow-White looked at Florrie. “So she is!” said the doll. “I wonder why.”

“I think I know!” said the sailor-doll. “That dust we keep finding here and there is what she’s stuffed with. She’s leaking! She’ll soon be gone to nothing!”

“How dreadful!” said the golden-haired doll. “I’m made of rubber, so I can’t leak. What will happen to Florrie?”

“She’ll just leak till she’s empty and then she won’t have a body at all,” said the bear. “Well, let her, the stuck-up thing!”

But Snow-White was kind-hearted. “We must warn Florrie,” she said. So she went up to the big old doll and spoke to her timidly. “Please, Madam,” she said, “I’ve something to say.”

“Then say it quickly,” said Florrie, in her grandest voice.

“We think you’re leaking,” said Snow-White. “Don’t you think you’d better not walk about any more? You might leak away to nothing.”

Florrie was very angry. “Leaking!” she cried. “I don’t believe it! It’s just a horrid trick of yours to stop me taking my evening walks. Don’t let me hear another word!”

Well, Snow-White couldn’t do anything. She and the other toys watched Florrie walking about, leaving her trail of sawdust everywhere as usual, and they wondered how soon all her sawdust would be gone.

Now the little hole that had come in Florrie’s back suddenly got very much bigger—and one evening such a heap of sawdust trickled out that really there was hardly any of poor Florrie left except her head and her clothes and the pink covering that used to hold in the sawdust. So she crumpled up on the carpet, and lay there all alone! The toys were upset, but before they could do anything the door opened and in walked Katie’s mother!