Part 21 (1/2)

_HIGH JINKS IN THE BARN_

It was unquestionably a hot day; so hot, indeed, that John, the hired man, said the thermometer had had to climb a tree to get high enough to record the degree of the heat. Jimmieboy had been playing out under the apple-trees for two or three hours, and now, ”just for greens,” as the saying went, he had climbed into the old barouche in the barn, where it was tolerably cool and there was a soft cus.h.i.+on to lie off on. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then a strange thing happened.

The Wheelbarrow over by the barn door unmistakably spoke. ”Say,” it said to the Farm Wagon, ”there's one thing I like about you.”

”What's that?” said the Wagon.

”You have such a long tongue, and yet you never say an unkind word about anybody,” replied the Barrow, with a creak of its wheel that sounded very much like a laugh.

”That may be so,” said the big gray Horse that was used with the fat old bay to pull the farm wagon. ”It may be just as you say, but that tongue has come between me and one of my best friends many a time, I tell you.”

”I couldn't help that,” retorted the Wagon. ”The hired man made me do it; besides, I have a grudge against you.”

”What's the grudge?” queried the Horse.

”You kicked me and my friend the Whiffletree that day you ran away down in the hay field,” replied the Wagon. ”I was dreadfully upset that day.”

”I should say you were,” put in the Rake. ”And when you were upset you fell on me and knocked out five of my teeth. I never had such a time.”

”You needed to have something done to those teeth, anyhow,” said the Sickle. ”They were nearly all gone when that happened.”

”Oh, were they?” retorted the Rake. ”And why were they nearly all gone?

Do you know that?”

”I do not. I suppose you had been trying to crack chestnuts with them.

Was that it?”

”No, it wasn't,” retorted the Rake. ”They were worn out cleaning up the lawns after you pretended to have finished them off.”

”You think you're bright, don't you?” replied the Sickle, with a sneer.

”Well, if I was as dull as you are,” returned the Rake, angrily, ”I'd visit the Grindstone and get him to put a little more edge on me.”

”Come, come; don't be so quarrelsome,” said the Hose. ”If you don't stop, I'll drown the whole lot of you.”

”Tut!” retorted the Rake. ”You look for all the world like a snake.”

”He is a snake,” put in the Curry-comb. ”He's a water-snake. Aren't you, Hosey?”

”I'd show you whether I am or not if the faucet hadn't run dry.”

”Dear me!” laughed the Sled. ”Hear Hosey talk! The idea of a faucet running! It hasn't moved an inch since it came here. Why, I've got two runners that'll beat it out of sight on the side of a hill.”

”Yes, the down side,” said the Pony. ”Anything can run down hill. Even a stupid old millstone can do that. But when it comes to running up hill, I'm ahead of you all. Why, the biggest river or avalanche in the world couldn't run up hill beside me.”