Читать книгу Tommy Toddles - Albert Lee - Страница 4

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When the last of the animals had disappeared, Tommy Toddles looked about him to see if any other things were going to happen. He almost expected to see the animals turn around and come back. But they did not. The tramp, tramp, tramp of their feet grew less and less distinct, until it gradually died away entirely, and there was no other sound but the rustling of the wind in the tree-tops.

Tommy reflected for a few moments, and then started for the gate. He knew he was not allowed to go beyond it, but he felt as if he ought certainly to go that far to see, if possible, what became of his animals. Perhaps he might even be forgiven for going farther, if he explained later to his mother exactly what had happened, for surely this must be a sufficient excuse, as no one ever before had heard of wooden toys coming to life and growing up and deliberately walking away! And so Tommy went to the gate and looked along the road, which stretched away for a short distance down the hill and then disappeared into the woods.

The animals were not in sight. They had had time to reach the woods, and only a light cloud of dust showed that they had passed that way. Tommy looked back at the big house, but no one was visible, and most of the window-shutters were closed so as to keep out the sunlight.

“I know I ought not to,” thought Tommy, “but I’ll just run down the road a little way to see where they went. They may get lost, and that, of course, would never do.”

And so saying, he gave one more glance toward the house behind him and started off. He ran as far as the bend in the road, and then looked ahead into the woods, but, alas! there was not the sign of an animal anywhere. The little boy was very much perplexed. He was entirely at a loss as to what he should do under the circumstances, and for lack of inspiration he sat down on a big stone by the way-side to think the matter over. He was still debating whether he should follow after the animals and wander off into the woods, or whether he should give them up as lost and return to the play-room, when he heard a rustling sound in the bushes near by.

He turned around, and there, standing not ten feet away from him, he saw the prettiest, whitest, woolliest sheep that his eyes had ever rested upon. The sheep had great blue eyes, that turned toward the little boy in an inquisitive sort of a way, and presently it stepped entirely out of the bushes and nodded in a most friendly manner,

“Hello, Sheepy!” said Tommy, getting up and holding out his hand.

“Hello!” answered the woolly Sheep, as he trotted up and placed one of his fore-feet in Tommy’s proffered hand.

Now our little boy had been surprised, to say the least of it, at the conduct of the Noah’s Ark animals; but this surprise was nothing compared to the amazement which almost overpowered him when the woolly Sheep not only shook him by the hand, but actually spoke to him.

“You look disturbed.” said the Sheep.

“I am,” stammered the little boy—and that was all he could say for the moment.

“You should not be disturbed or surprised at anything,” continued the woolly Sheep in the most natural way in the world. “I got over being surprised at things years and years ago.”

Nevertheless. Tommy was surprised and very much disturbed in his little mind, and for some minutes he said not a word, but merely stared at the Sheep. The latter returned the stare complacently with his large blue eyes, and when at last the silence began to be embarrassing, he said,

“What are you doing here?”

“I am looking for my animals,” replied Tommy, as naturally as he could, for he had not quite gotten used to the situation yet. “Have you seen them pass this way?”

“Oh yes,” answered the Sheep; “they all went down the road some time ago. Were those your animals?”

“Yes, and I am afraid they will get lost.”

“Why don’t you go after them?” asked the Sheep.

“I don’t know where to go,” said Tommy, mournfully.

“Neither do I; but if you like, I will go with you.”

The little boy wondered how the Sheep could go to a place without knowing where that place was, but as long as he had so generously offered to do so Tommy did not exactly like to suggest this difficulty, and, besides, he thought it would be more polite to accept. So he said,

“Where shall we go?”

“I don’t know,” answered the Sheep.

“Neither do I,” added Tommy,

“Then we must ask.”

“But whom can we ask?” inquired the little boy, looking about.

“We can ask any one we meet,” said the Sheep, “If we start into the woods we will surely meet some one. We won’t meet any one if we stay here.”

This struck Tommy as being a sensible view to take of the situation, and he told the Sheep he would be glad to have him go along with him to aid in the search.

“Very well,” pursued the latter. “Wait until I get my things.”

The Sheep trotted off into the bushes again, and soon returned wearing a jaunty hat on the top of his head and carrying a cane which was neatly decorated with a gilded ram’s horn for a handle. He was now walking on his hind-legs, too, instead of on all-fours, as he had been when Tommy first saw him. In this attitude he was almost as tall as the little boy.

Before they started, Tommy again hesitated somewhat as to whether he ought to go with the Sheep in search of his animals, or whether it would not be better to turn back to the house, but everything had been so queer that afternoon that he thought his mother would accept the queer excuses he would have to make when he got home.

They followed the road into the woods, and as they went Tommy looked about him to see if he could recognize any old landmarks, for he had frequently gone that way with his Uncle Dick. But for some reason the trees did not appear to be the same trees that had stood by the way-side only a few days since, and the road seemed to take twists and turns that Tommy had never known it to take before. Yet, somehow, these things did not bother Tommy much at the time. Presently the Sheep said,

“You have forgotten your hat.”

“Yes; I was in such a hurry, you know,” answered the little boy. “But I don’t think I will catch cold; do you?”

“Oh no,” continued the Sheep, patronizingly; “if you do, just, give it to me.” But Tommy didn’t comprehend exactly what he meant.

“I wonder if my animals can talk, too?” thought he, as they went along. “I hope we will catch up with them soon, so that I can find out. And how I do wish I could keep this woolly Sheep instead of having the one Uncle Dick is going to bring me! I don’t think mamma would object to a live Sheep like this one—a white, woolly Sheep that wears a little hat and can talk.”