Freddy Goes to Florida (5 page)

VI

So for two weeks the animals travelled on toward Florida.

“It must be a long way,” said Hank. “The weather doesn't seem to get any warmer.”

“But it doesn't get any colder, either,” said Mrs. Wiggins, “and down here the leaves are still on the trees. When we left home, the trees round the farm had all shed their leaves and were ready for the winter.”

“Well, I don't care how far it is,” said Hank. “We're certainly having a good time. I shall be almost sorry when we get there.”

Nearly every day now large flocks of birds passed by them overhead, southward bound. And one morning the same swallow who had first put the idea of migrating into Charles's head dropped down from the sky and circled about over them. She had left home two days earlier, and she gave them all the news of the farm, and messages from their relatives, and told them that Mr. and Mrs. Bean were well, but that they felt very bad that the animals had left them.

“At first,” she said, “Mr. Bean thought someone had stolen you, but then somehow he guessed that you had decided to go to Florida for the winter. I heard him tell Mrs. Bean that he hoped you'd have a good time and come back safe and sound in the spring. And he said that he was going to try to make things more comfortable for you, although he didn't know how he'd manage it, because he didn't have money enough to fix things up the way they ought to be.”

When the animals heard this, they felt a little sorry that they had left Mr. Bean without saying good-bye. “But we'll bring him something nice from Florida when we go back,” they said.

So far they had kept away from the cities as much as possible, because they were afraid that the people would not understand that they were migrating, and would try to lock them up and keep them. And when they had to go through villages, they always waited till late at night, when everyone was asleep. But at last one day, away off in the distance, they saw a little speck of gold, that glittered and sparkled in the bright sunlight.

They wondered and wondered what the gold thing could be, but none of them knew, and pretty soon, as they went along, the road turned into a street, and there were houses on both sides of it and trolley tracks down the middle. And the speck of gold grew bigger and bigger. It looked as if a great golden balloon was tethered among the trees ahead of them.

“We're coming to a city,” said Robert. “We'd better turn off this road and go round it.”

“I wish I knew what the gold thing is,” said Freddy, the pig. Freddy had a very inquiring mind.

Just then a little woolly, white dog with a very fancy blue ribbon around his neck came along, and Freddy asked him.

The little dog stuck his nose up in the air. “Don't speak to me, you common pig,” he said.

“Eh?” said Freddy. “What's the matter with you? I only asked you a civil question.”

“Go away, you vulgar creature,” said the little dog snippily.

“Oho!” said Freddy. “You're too stuck up to talk to a pig, are you?” And he laughed and ran at the little dog and rolled him over and over in the road till his white coat and blue ribbon were both grey with dust. Then he stood him on his feet and said: “Now answer my question.”

Then the little dog meekly told him that the thing that looked like a golden balloon was the dome of the Capitol, and that the city they were coming to was Washington, where the President lives. And when Freddy had given him a lecture on politeness and had helped him to brush the dust off himself, he let him go.

“I'd like to see the President,” said Hank.

All the others said they would too, but they were afraid to go into the city because the people might lock them up, and boys were sure to throw stones at them.

But Jinx, the cat, said: “I vote we go, just the same. I don't believe the President will let them do anything to us. And we can see the Capitol and the Washington Monument and maybe go up to the White House and call on the President.”

So they decided to go, and started down the street toward the city. All the people came out on their door-steps to watch them go by, but nobody bothered them, and by and by they came to the Capitol. They stood for a long time and admired the big, white building, with its many columns and its gilded dome, and then they walked round to the side and admired it some more, and while they were standing there, two senators in silk hats came out and saw them.

“I didn't know animals ever visited the Capitol,” said the first senator.

“Neither did I,” said the second senator. “But I don't see why they shouldn't. I think it's rather nice.”

Then a third senator came out and joined the other two, and he said: “By George! I have heard about these animals! They belong to one of my constituents. They're going to Florida for the winter, and I believe they're the first animals that ever migrated. This, gentlemen, is one of the most important occurrences in the annals of this august assemblage. I'm going to order a band, and take them round and show them the city.”

So he went in and ordered the band, and told the other senators, who put their heads out of the windows and smiled and waved to the animals.

“What's a constituent?” asked Mrs. Wiggins.

But none of the others could tell her, and to this day she has never found out.

Pretty soon the band came, and they struck up “Marching Through Georgia,” and went up the wide avenue toward the White House, and the animals marched behind. First came the senator in his high hat, and then Charles and Henrietta, and then Mrs. Wiggins, with the mice sitting on her back, and then the two dogs and Freddy, the pig, and then Hank, with Alice and Emma on
his
back, and last came Jinx. They all walked in time to the music and held their heads up and pretended not to see any of the people that crowded the sidewalks, as everyone always does when he is in a parade. Beside them walked twenty policemen, to keep the people back and to prevent them from pulling the tail feathers out of the ducks or chickens to keep as souvenirs.

They went all over the city, and the senator showed them all the fine buildings and parks and monuments, and last they came to the White House. And there was the President out on the front porch, smiling and bowing to them, and as they filed past, he shook them each by a claw or a paw or a hoof. Even Eek and Quik and Eeny and Cousin Augustus overcame their timidity and put their tiny paws into the President's big hand. They were all very proud.

And then they went on with the band playing a different tune every ten minutes, and the people cheering and waving handkerchiefs. When they got to the edge of the city, the band stopped and the senator made them a speech, which began:

“Friends and constituents, I am very sensible of the honour which you have done me to-day. To welcome a delegation of the home folks to the Nation's Capital is one of the few pleasures that cheer the burdened brow of those whose stern duty it is to keep their shoulder always to the wheel of the ship of State. And that reminds me of the story of the two Irishmen.”

He told the story, and the animals laughed politely, although they did not see anything very funny about it, and that is why it is not written down here. Nor is the rest of the senator's speech written down, for the animals did not understand much of it, and I am not at all sure that the senator did either. But all agreed that it was a stirring speech.

Then the senator said good-bye to the adventurers, and the band played “Auld Lang Syne,” and the animals went on their way.

“Well,” said Mrs. Wiggins with a sigh, as she dropped off to sleep that night, “we certainly had a grand time. But I do wish I knew what a constituent is.”

VII

One afternoon as the animals were marching along southward, they came to a deep, dark pine wood. It was a warm day, for they were getting near Florida now, and the road was very rough and stony. They were all hot and tired and cross. Even the good-natured Mrs. Wiggins grumbled as they plodded along between the rows of tall, gloomy trees.

“I wish these woods would come to an end,” she said. “I never saw such a place! Nothing but pine needles—no grass, no water. And it's almost supper-time, too.”

Robert put his nose up in the air and sniffed. “I smell rain,” he said. And just as he said it, there came a long, low grumble of distant thunder.

“Well, we have got to find a shed or a barn or something,” said Hank, the old, white horse. “I'm not going to stand under a tree in a thunder shower for anybody.”

“My goodness!” said Henrietta crossly. “What's the good of
talking!
Why don't you
do
something? Jinx, why don't you climb a tree and see if you can see a barn?”

This was sensible advice, so Jinx climbed up to the top of the tallest pine he could find. When he came down, he said: “I saw the sun going down in the west, and I saw a thunder-storm coming up in the south. And the woods go on for miles and miles. But about half a mile farther along there is a little log house. And there is a chimney on the house, and there is smoke going into the chimney.”

“Coming out of the chimney, you mean,” said Hank.

“I mean just what I say,” said Jinx. “There is smoke coming from all parts of the sky and gathering into a cloud and pouring down the chimney.”

“Fiddlesticks!” exclaimed Henrietta. “I never heard of such nonsense!”

“I don't know whether it's nonsense or not,” said the cat, “but that's what I saw. If you're so smart, why don't you climb up the tree and take a look yourself?”

Henrietta didn't dare climb the tree, so she said: “Fiddlesticks!” again in a very loud voice, and walked off.

It was getting darker and darker, and the thunder was rumbling and rolling and coming nearer and nearer.

“Well, there's no use quarrelling about it,” said Mrs. Wiggins. “If there's a house, there's a barn, and if there's a barn, maybe we can get into it, out of the rain. I'm going along.” And as this was a very sensible speech, they all started along after her.

Pretty soon they saw the log house. It sat back from the road, and was almost hidden by the trees and bushes that grew close up to its walls, so that if Jinx had not seen it from the tree-top, they might have walked right by and never noticed it. And sure enough, round the top of the chimney was whirling what looked like a cloud of smoke. It whirled round and round, and then plunged down, and as the animals had never seen smoke going the wrong way before, they just stood and stared at it.

“What did I tell you?” said Jinx.

But Henrietta didn't answer him; she went up close to the house and looked and looked; and although it was getting pretty dark, she saw that it wasn't smoke after all, but a flock of birds, who were coming from every direction and dropping down the chimney.

“There's your smoke!” she exclaimed scornfully. “Chimney-swallows! They live in the chimney, and they're going home to sleep. Smoke, indeed! That's the cat of it! Jumping at conclusions!”

“I'll jump at you if you say any more,” said Jinx, “and pull all your tail feathers out.”

“Come, come,” said Mrs. Wiggins. “Stop your fighting, animals. If there are swallows in that chimney, it means that there hasn't been a fire built in the house in a long time. And
that
means that nobody lives there. Let's get inside.”

Bang, bang—bingle BOOM! went the thunder. And the animals made a rush for the door and got inside just as the rain came down with a swish and a rattle.

Bang, bang
—
bingle BOOM
!

There was only one room in the house, and in it were two chairs and a table and an empty barrel and a pile of old newspapers. Opposite the door was a big fire-place, and beside the fire-place was a neat pile of firewood. But everything was very dusty. Nobody had lived in the house in a long time.

Outside, the rain was coming down in torrents, and the thunder and lightning were very bad indeed. But the animals were happy because they were dry. Only the mice, Eeek and Quik and Eeny and Cousin Augustus, were rather frightened, and at the first really sharp flash of lightning they dived down an old mouse hole by the fire-place and didn't come up until the storm was over.

After the thunder and lightning had gone farther away again, and the rain had settled down to a good, steady, all-night pour, Robert said: “It's getting cold. I wish Mr. Bean was here to build us a fire.”

“There are some matches up here,” said Charles, the rooster, who had perched on the mantel over the fire-place.

“I believe I could build one myself,” said Robert. “I've seen him do it often enough. Chuck down a couple matches, Charles.”

“And what about all those swallows in the chimney?” asked Henrietta. “I suppose you never thought about them!”

“We'll invite 'em to come down and sit around the fire with us,” said Robert. He called up to the swallows and invited them down, and pretty soon they began dropping down in twos and threes. They circled round the room, and then took their places in rows along the walls, for swallows don't perch as other birds do, holding on by their claws,—they hang themselves up by the little hooks they have on the tops of their wings. There were so many of them that the log walls were covered with them, and they looked like a beautiful, shining black tapestry.