AT NOEY'S HOUSE

At Noey's house — when they arrived with him — How snug seemed everything, and neat and trim: The little picket-fence, and little gate — It's little pulley, and its little weight,—

All glib as clock-work, as it clicked behind Them, on the little red brick pathway, lined With little paint-keg-vases and teapots Of wee moss-blossoms and forgetmenots:

And in the windows, either side the door, Were ranged as many little boxes more Of like old-fashioned larkspurs, pinks and moss And fern and phlox; while up and down across

Them rioted the morning-glory-vines On taut-set cotton-strings, whose snowy lines Whipt in and out and under the bright green Like basting-threads; and, here and there between,

A showy, shiny hollyhock would flare Its pink among the white and purple there.— And still behind the vines, the children saw A strange, bleached, wistful face that seemed to draw

A vague, indefinite sympathy. A face It was of some newcomer to the place.— In explanation, Noey, briefly, said That it was “Jason,” as he turned and led

The little fellows‘ round the house to show Them his menagerie of pets. And so For quite a time the face of the strange guest Was partially forgotten, as they pressed

About the squirrel-cage and rousted both The lazy inmates out, though wholly loath To whirl the wheel for them.— And then with awe They walked‘ round Noey's big pet owl, and saw

Him film his great, clear, liquid eyes and stare And turn and turn and turn his head‘ round there The same way they kept circling — as though he Could turn it one way thus eternally.

Behind the kitchen, then, with special pride Noey stirred up a terrapin inside The rain-barrel where he lived, with three or four Little mud-turtles of a size not more

In neat circumference than the tiny toy Dumb-watches worn by every little boy. Then, back of the old shop, beneath the tree Of “rusty-coats,” as Noey called them, he

Next took the boys, to show his favorite new Pet‘ coon — pulled rather coyly into view Up through a square hole in the bottom of An old inverted tub he bent above,

Yanking a little chain, with “Hey! you, sir! Here's comp'ny come to see you, Bolivur!” Explanatory, he went on to say, “I named him‘ Bolivur’ jes thisaway,—

He looks so round and ovalish and fat, ‘ Peared like no other name‘ ud fit but that.” Here Noey's father called and sent him on Some errand. “Wait,” he said — “I wo n't be gone

A half a’ hour.— Take Bud, and go on in Where Jason is, tel I git back agin.” Whoever Jason was, they found him there Still at the front-room window.— By his chair

Leaned a new pair of crutches; and from one Knee down, a leg was bandaged.— “Jason done That-air with one o’ these -‘ ere tools we call A‘ shin-hoe’ — but a foot-adz mostly all

Hardware-store-keepers calls‘ em.” — ( Noey made This explanation later. ) Jason paid But little notice to the boys as they

Came in the room:— An idle volume lay Upon his lap — the only book in sight — And Johnty read the title,— “Light, More Light, There's Danger in the Dark,” — though first and best —

In fact, the whole of Jason's interest Seemed centered on a little dog — one pet Of Noey's all uncelebrated yet — Though Jason, certainly, avowed his worth,

And niched him over all the pets on earth — As the observant Johnty would relate The Jason-episode, and imitate The all-enthusiastic speech and air

Of Noey's kinsman and his tribute there:— “THAT LITTLE DOG” “That little dog‘ ud scratch at that door And go on a-whinin’ two hours before

He'd ever let up! There!— Jane: Let him in.— ( Hah, there, you little rat! ) Look at him grin! Come down off o’ that!— W'y, look at him! ( Drat

You! you-rascal-you! ) — bring me that hat! Look out!— He'll snap you!— He would n't let You take it away from him, now you kin bet! That little rascal's jist natchurly mean.—

I tell you, I never ( Git out!! ) never seen A spunkier little rip! ( Scratch to git in, And now yer a-scratchin’ to git out agin! Jane: Let him out! ) Now, watch him from here

Out through the winder!— You notice one ear Kindo’ in side-out, like he holds it?— Well, He's got a tick in it — I kin tell! Yes, and he's cunnin’ —

Jist watch him a-runnin’, Sidelin’ — see!— like he ai n't‘ plum'd true’ And legs do n't‘ track’ as they'd ort to do:— Plowin’ his nose through the weeds — I jing!

Ai n't he jist cuter'n anything! “W'y, that little dog's got grown-people's sense!— See how he gits out under the fence?— And watch him a-whettin’ his hind-legs‘ fore

His dead square run of a miled er more — ‘ Cause Noey's a-comin’, and Trip allus knows When Noey's a-comin’ — and off he goes!— Putts out to meet him and — There they come now!

Well-sir! it's raially singalar how That dog kin tell,— But he knows as well When Noey's a-comin’ home!— Reckon his smell

‘ Ud carry two miled?— You need n't to smile — He runs to meet him, ever’ - once-n-a-while, Two miled and over — when he's slipped away And left him at home here, as he's done to-day —

‘ Thout ever knowin’ where Noey wuz goin’ — But that little dog allus hits the right way! Hear him a-whinin’ and scratchin’ agin?— ( Little tormentin’ fice! ) Jane: Let him in.

“— You say he ai n't there?— Well now, I declare!— Lem me limp out and look!... I wunder where — Heuh, Trip!— Heuh, Trip!— Heuh, Trip!... There —

There he is!— Little sneak!— What-a’ - you -‘ bout?— There he is — quiled up as meek as a mouse, His tail turnt up like a teakittle-spout, A-sunnin’ hisse'f at the side o’ the house!

Next time you scratch, sir, you'll haf to git in, My fine little feller, the best way you kin! — Noey he learns him sich capers!— And they — Both of‘ em's ornrier every day!—

Both tantalizin’ and meaner'n sin — Allus a — ( Listen there! ) — Jane: Let him in. “— O! yer so innocent! hangin’ yer head!— ( Drat ye! you'd better git under the bed! )

— Listen at that!— He's tackled the cat!— Hah, there! you little rip! come out o’ that!— Git yer blame little eyes scratched out

‘ Fore you know what yer talkin’ about!— Here! come away from there!— ( Let him alone — He'll snap you, I tell ye, as quick as a bone! ) Hi, Trip!— Hey, here!— What-a’ - you -‘ bout!—

Oo! ouch!‘ Ll I'll be blamed!— Blast ye! GIT OUT! ... O, it ai n't nothin’ — jist scratched me, you see.— Had n't no idy he'd try to bite me! Plague take him!— Bet he'll not try that agin!—

Hear him yelp.— ( Pore feller! ) Jane: Let him in.”