Читать книгу Tommy Toddles - Albert Lee - Страница 6

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As the two approached the Reformed Burglar caught sight of them, and turned around to see who his visitors were. Then he stuck his head in through an open window and shouted,

“Hi there, below! All hands on deck to repel boarders!”

“Does he think we are coming here to live?” asked Tommy of his companion.

“I guess not,” answered the Sheep. “Why?”

“He said something about boarders.”

“Oh, that’s only an idiom of the piratic vocabulary,” replied the Sheep, learnedly—so learnedly, in fact, that Tommy was just as much in the dark as he was before he put the question.

When he looked up at the house again a wild-eyed individual with long hair and a fierce mustache, holding a knife in his teeth and a pistol in each hand, burst out of the door and stood beside the Reformed Burglar.

“This must be the ex-Pirate,” thought Tommy, as he cautiously got behind the Sheep. I wonder if he’ll shoot?”

But the ex-Pirate was not that kind of a man at all. When he saw that there were strangers present he put his pistols back into his belt, and came up to the visitors with a genial smile, and shook hands with the Sheep and then with Tommy.

“Welcome to the Poorhouse,” he said. “There is nothing here, and so you will find nobody any richer than yourselves.”

“But we have not come to stay,” murmured Tommy.

“Nothing comes to stay,” replied the ex-Pirate, with a sigh, “Everything that comes, goes.”

During this conversation the Reformed Burglar, who had put down his paint-pot, approached the group. Tommy noticed that he had only one eye. and that he wore a blind over the other. He wanted to ask him what was the matter with this other eye, but he thought the Reformed Burglar might feel offended at such a question, so he merely said,

“How do you do, sir?”

“To-day I do it in red,” answered the Reformed Burglar, with a bow.

“But I did not ask you that,” said Tommy.

“You should have,” said the other; “it is important.”

“I don’t like red,” interrupted the ex-Pirate, “I prefer black. I wanted him to paint the house black,”

“But that would have looked so sad,” remarked the little boy.

No matter; black is the Pirate’s color, and I like it.” The ex-Pirate was getting somewhat excited.

“Black is a beastly color!” shouted the Reformed Burglar.

“It’s better than red!” retorted the ex-Pirate, hotly, and then there followed a lively dispute between the two inmates of the Poorhouse as to the relative merits of red and black for mural decoration.

“Well, I’m doing the painting, anyhow,” sniffed the Reformed Burglar, finally, and he went back to his pot and brushes.

“He’s that way,” said the ex-Pirate, turning to Tommy in an apologetic way. “But won’t you sit down? We have no chairs, but there is a bench. I painted the bench. You see, it’s black.”

Tommy felt grateful for this invitation, for he was beginning to feel a little tired after his walk. There was a rude table in front of the bench, and they all sat down and leaned back against it.

“I write here sometimes,” said the ex-Pirate, as he sat down between his two guests.

Tommy didn’t know exactly what kind of a reply this statement called for, so he said, “Is that so?”

“Of course it’s so,” replied the ex-Pirate, facing the little boy, “If you don’t believe it, ask the Reformed Burglar.”

“I do believe it,” answered Tommy, somewhat timidly, for he feared he had offended the ex-Pirate. “What I meant to say was ‘Indeed,’or something of that sort.”

“That’s all right,” continued the ex-Pirate, cordially. “I thought perhaps you doubted me. Some people doubt pirates, you know, and although I am not a pirate now, I was once, and my reputation clings to me. If you would like to see how I do it, just to be convinced, I will write some poetry now.”

“Oh no, don’t,” said the Sheep, impulsively.

“But, if you prefer, I will recite some of my own compositions,” continued the ex-Pirate heedless of the Sheep’s protest. “I can recite something I wrote here. Would you like to hear it?”

“Certainly,” said Tommy, politely; “is it about pirates?”

“No; it’s about the Reformed Burglar. Would not you like to hear about him? I can recite something about pirates afterward, if you would like me to.”

“Never mind. Let us hear about the Reformed Burglar,” said the Sheep, wearily.

The ex-Pirate appeared to be pleased at receiving even this slight encouragement. He climbed up on to the top of the black table, and Tommy and the sheep turned around so as to face him. He bowed very politely and elaborately in all directions, just as if there had been a large audience present, and then began. His manner of speaking was very melodramatic, and Tommy suspected once or twice that he saw the Sheep hiding a smile. But the little boy was very much interested, because he had wanted all along to know more about the Burglar, and this piece of poetry told him a good deal,

THE RIME OF THE REFORMED BURGLAR

“There was a bold, bad burglar

Whose name was One-eyed Bill,

He used to burgle shops and banks,

And also lap the till.

“Now in the street where William lived

There dwelt a little maid;

Her face was very pretty, and

Her name was Adelaide.

“Alas, she was an orphan, for

Her parents both were dead,

And her father’s brother cared for her

Now in her mother’s stead,

“Her uncle was a constable

Upon the town police,

And he used to keep a watchful eye

Upon his pretty niece,

“But Adelaide, as maidens will

Nine cases out of ten,

Would sit upon the front-door step,

And smile upon the men.

“It happened thus that One-eyed Bill

Came walking down that way,

And seeing pretty Adelaide,

He wished her a good-day.

“And Addie said: ‘Good-morrow, sir,

How is the world with you?

Would you sit down here beside me

If I should ask you to?’

“So William went right up the steps,

And sat upon her left

(For, if you will remember, of

One eye he was bereft).

“He sat there all the afternoon

With pretty Adelaide,

And when, he went back home again

He loved the gentle maid.

“Said he unto himself: ‘Ha! ha!

True unto my profession,

I’ll burgle this young woman’s heart

And make it my possession.

“But this was his last burglary;

For when he won her heart,

She made him swear that he and his

Profession then should part.

“So One-eyed Bill and Adelaide

Were married very soon,

And sailed away to foreign lands

To spend their honeymoon.”

When the ex-Pirate had finished speaking he clambered down from the top of the table, and bowed again to Tommy and to the Sheep.

“Did the burglar really get married?” asked the little boy.

“Certainly,” answered the ex-Pirate; “he married Adelaide.”

“Well, where is she now? Is not she poor too?”

“I don’t know,” said the ex-Pirate, with an air of embarrassment, as he glanced stealthily toward One-eyed Bill, who was still zealously painting the side of the Poorhouse.

“Don’t ask so many questions,” whispered the Sheep, severely. “It is very embarrassing sometimes. When in doubt, always change the subject,”

Tommy did not like to be talked to in this fashion, especially by a sheep, although he knew down in the bottom of his heart that it was a little inquisitive to ask questions about the private affairs even of a Reformed Burglar. But it was evident to him that the ex-Pirate felt slightly disturbed over the matter, and so he tried to change the subject as the Sheep had suggested.