Part 2 (1/2)

Tom would often speak of these things he remembered, but, at the end, he would always become sad, when he thought how all his kingdom had been destroyed and everything had disappeared, and that he would never again see his loved ones.

The G.o.dmother listened to his stories with great pleasure, but she realized that Tom must have some occupation that would keep him busy and not only prevent him from thinking too much of the past, but also prepare him for the life he was to lead in the future.

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CHAPTER THREE.

LITTLE TOM'S TRIP AROUND THE WORLD.

LITTLE TOM'S HOUSEHOLD.

LITTLE TOM WRITES A DIARY.

HE LEARNS TO READ THE BOOKS OF MEN.

HOW LITTLE TOM READ WITH HIS FEET AND HOW HE TURNED THE LEAVES.

LITTLE TOM LEARNS GEOGRAPHY AND WANTS TO MAKE A TRIP ROUND THE WORLD.

WHAT HE WROTE IN HIS DIARY ABOUT THIS TRIP.

Little Tom had his day well planned. He rose early and, as his G.o.dmother placed every night on his castle grounds an earthern-ware plate full of fresh water he would jump into it the first thing and swim all around in it. When he had finished his bath he would take his breakfast in the garden.

Under the tree was his store of provisions: A hazel nut with an end cut off so that he could take out little bits from time to time, lasting him a whole month; a beechnut; sunflower seeds; a piece of sugar; and a wonderful apple, into which he cut a narrow pa.s.sage so that it would not dry up from the outside.

When he had breakfasted he would sweep the carpet in his room, clean his clothes and shoes, exercise with his weapons so that he would not forget the arts of defence he had learned at his home, and then go into the garden to plant and weed. Sometimes, he hunted for the ugly worms that dug great ditches in the vegetable beds.

When the G.o.dmother rose she would come to say good morning to Tom, look at his work, praise and advise him. When she saw it was necessary to water the tree, she would tell Tom to take away his tools and would then pour water over the tree from a fine sprinkler. Tom loved to run about in this rain and was happy to think that he could so bravely bear the heavy shower.

After she had gone away, he would write in his diary, describing everything he had been doing, as well as all those things he could remember from his former kingdom, so that nothing should be forgotten.

For this purpose, he had a beautiful, smooth parchment, tanned from the skins of white tree bugs, sharp pens, made from the bills of gnats, and fine writing sand from the powder of b.u.t.terflies' wings. He only lacked ink, but he found a way to get that. On the tree, he discovered the smoky wicks from the candles; mixing the soot with water he made himself some excellent ink; but in doing this, he became so black that when his G.o.dmother saw him she feared that he had turned into a negro.

He took his dinner alone, but always looked forward to the evening meal when he could sit down and talk with his G.o.dmother.

Thus the days pa.s.sed happily. He worked about his castle and in the garden and was kept busy with his housekeeping. Every day he was becoming more manly and strong and, as he grew up, he thought more and more of his past, of his birth and what he would have accomplished had he become a king and ruled over his underground realm.

One evening, when they were sitting together and Little Tom was speaking of all the things in the world he would like to do, his G.o.dmother said, Dear Little Tom, before you can do great things in the world, it is necessary that you should learn how to read and write as large people do, so that you can know what they are doing.

But Tom answered, I know how to read and write very well, G.o.dmother. I will show you what I have written. And when, at his request, she placed him on the press, he ran into the castle and brought out a whole armful of parchments; but it seemed to her that they were only a lot of tiny petals from cherry blossoms.

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When he had thrown the parchments into her lap she put on her spectacles and took one of the little sheets in her palm; but she could make nothing out of it at all.

Tom offered to read some of it to her and taking up the sheet, read it with much expression. In spite of this, the G.o.dmother shook her head.

You read very nicely what you yourself have written, she said, but you must learn human letters as well, so that you can read and study our books.

Therefore, she brought her book to the table, and reached for Little Tom to place him upon it, but he was nowhere to be seen. She looked all about and finally spied him clinging desperately to the table cloth. The wind caused by turning the leaves had blown him over to the very edge of the table and he had barely saved himself. He was calling for help when his G.o.dmother rescued him from his perilous position. So it nearly happened that, at the very outset, a misfortune might have prevented the reading altogether; but, as soon as he had recovered from his fright, Tom offered at once to begin.

He crawled quickly up the golden edge of the book and surveyed the broad white plain covered in every direction, with curving black lines.