Читать книгу Jerry Todd's Poodle Parlor - Edward Edson Lee - Страница 7

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I had planned to start on my bike for the Beesaddle farm about eight-thirty the following morning, but to my surprise who should come knocking on the front door a little past eight but the bustling pet farm woman herself!

“I’m sorry to burst in on you like this, so early in the morning,” she briskly excused herself to Mother, when the two had been introduced and we were all seated in the living room, “but my days are fearfully crowded and I can’t always pick my time.”

“That’s perfectly all right,” Mother assured her politely. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you—and Jerry here, as you can see, is just about ready to bubble over.”

“Yes,” I told the visitor quickly, my eyes I guess dancing, “I was just getting ready to start for your farm to ask you for a job.”

“And I’ve stopped to offer you a job,” she beamed, looking nothing now like the woman who had stopped us so severely in the old hotel road.

“Hot dog!” I yipped, bouncing up and down in my chair. “And will I have a blue uniform like Howard Ellery’s?—with brass buttons on it?”

“That’s exactly the uniform you will have—for I had to bring Howard home this morning for treatment. That’s one reason why I’m so early, for I started for town in my car the minute I learned of his condition.”

“Treatment?” repeated Mother, her eyes turning anxiously from the visitor to me. “You mean, he’s sick?—already? After just one day?”

“It’s just poison ivy, isn’t it?” I quickly asked the farm woman, not wanting Mother to get the frightened idea that the drinking water over there was bad, or anything like that.

“Yes,” nodded Mrs. Beesaddle, “he picked up quite a serious case of ivy poisoning in the woods near our place. But it can’t ever happen again to him or to anybody else, for my husband is over there right now digging the poison shrubbery out and burning it. The Ellery boy will be back in a week or two, so until then I would like to substitute with your boy, Mrs. Todd, if that meets with your approval. If he waits on my guests attentively, he’ll get some nice tips and earn more there in the same length of time than he could any place else. He’ll be well fed, too, and well taken care of, I can assure you of that. You see, Mrs. Todd,” the visitor’s motherly face softened, “I once had a boy myself, so I know how boys are and how to handle them. It is because of the fond memories that I still have of my own boy that I try to draw other boys around me—that is, boys of the right sort. They make me think of my—my own Tom, as he was at their age. I lost Tom in the World War and with him it seemed for a time as though I’d lost everything worth while to me—but—what a pretty view you have from your side window,” the visitor arose and walked abruptly over. She wasn’t looking through the window, though—she was gently dabbing at her eyes. “Well, Mrs. Todd,” she presently turned, with her usual smiling briskness, “do I get your boy or not? I’ll have to be hurrying along.”

“Jerry’s the only child we have,” Mother spoke long-faced, touched, I could see, by the other woman’s story of her sad loss. “I wouldn’t want him to stay away all summer, but if you feel he can do the work you have in mind for him, and if you care to put up with him, I think his father and I can spare him for a few weeks. I might add though—realizing that you will understand—that we aren’t so much concerned with what he earns as we are with how well he behaves himself and what he learns.”

“Yes,” nodded the visitor, “I understand perfectly what you mean and feel safe in promising you that the experience will be a good one for him.” With that she popped up to leave. “He’ll need several changes of underwear, shirts, socks, handkerchiefs—everything, in fact, except the uniform itself, which I furnish. Possibly you can get his things all ready while I’m down to the bank, as I have a short errand there and would like to get away as soon as I can afterwards. As I say, I hate to rush in on you this way and hurry you with his things, too, but that’s just the way my days are throughout the summer—rush, rush, rush! Even then I often have to start a day with things that should have been done the day before. I’m hoping Jerry will be a big help to me. Well, good-by, till I come back for him, Mrs. Todd. You’re a grand mother and it’s been a great pleasure to meet you.”

Red popped in the back door the minute Mrs. Beesaddle popped out the front.

“Lumber trouble?” he asked big-eyed, having recognized the visitor.

“I’m going to work for her,” I grinned. “Scoop’s home with poison ivy, and I’m going to take his place.”

Down slid Red into a chair like a wilted rag.

“Oh, gee!” he made all kinds of unhappy faces. “I wish I could go, too.”

I was feeling pretty big.

“With those freckles and that carrot top of yours?” I turned up my nose at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Mrs. Beesaddle wants good-looking bellhops, like Scoop and me and Peg. You couldn’t wear a blue uniform with brass buttons. They’d think it was just another monkey running around over there. No, Red,” I swaggered around, “you better stay home and help mamma with the dishes and get Aunt Pansy’s beauty parlor windows washed up nice and neat. That’s more your kind of work. I’ll give you a ring now and then to tell you about our fun, or drop you a postcard.”

“Boy, would I ever like to paste you!” he glowered.

“Tut, tut!” I waved him off lordly. “Don’t step out of your place now, infant. Remember you’re just an inexperienced child.”

That got him after me, fists flying, and getting me down in the hall he went at me like a little fury. The racket finally brought Mother flying down the stairs, her arms filled with shirts and underwear.

“Please, please!” she went at us impatiently, Red finally getting up and slouching off.

“I’m going home,” he growled, banging the screen door behind him.

I quickly followed him out.

“I was just fooling, Red,” I told him. “Gosh, I’d give anything myself if you could get a job over there, too! And maybe soon there will be enough work for one more. If there is, you can bet your last penny that you’ll be the one we plug for.”

“You always were lucky,” he sat down miserably on the back porch steps. “Oh, gee, I wish I could have a little luck like you once in a while! I don’t know what I’ll do around here without you, Jerry.”

“You still have Horse Foot,” I told him, with a straight face.

“That dumb goose egg!” he exploded. “Huh! I won’t waste any time on him. I’d sooner play with the girls than with him.”

Around the corner of the house then clattered Horse Foot himself, popeyed and breathless.

“Mrs. B-b-bumblebee’s in town, Jerry,” he panted. “I j-j-just saw her in the bank.”

“I know she’s in town,” I told him. “She just brought Scoop home—he’s all plastered up with poison ivy and I’m going to take his place. She’s coming back for me as soon as Mother gets my clothes packed.”

“H-h-how soon’ll that be?” he asked quickly, his eyes jumping excitedly.

“Oh, in ten minutes or so, I guess.”

He started for home on the gallop.

“T-t-tell her to wait for me, too,” he yelled, as he started to go around the corner of the house.

“Hey!” I took after him. “Hey, wait a minute! Nobody said anything about you going. Hey, stop!”

But when I got to the corner he was completely out of sight.

“Do you suppose he’s really gone home to pack up?” I stared at Red.

“He’s dumb enough to,” grunted Red. “And nervy enough, too.”

“Well, it isn’t any of my business,” I dismissed the matter with a shrug. “Mrs. Beesaddle certainly won’t take him with her if she doesn’t want him.”

“Jerry!” Mother impatiently called from an upper window. “Go in and answer the phone. Goodness me, can’t you be of any help to me at all—with me hurrying to get your clothes ready!”

I found Peg on the wire.

“Is Mrs. Beesaddle there, Jerry?” he asked quickly.

“No—but she’s coming back here in a few minutes. Why? Has anything happened over there?”

“There’s an important telegram here for her. Do you want to take it down?”

“Sure thing—read it to me, and I’ll give it to her when she gets here.”

This is what I wrote down:

Mrs. Flora Beesaddle,

Back-to-the-farm Cabin Colony,

Tutter, Illinois.

Will arrive this evening with De Puster kennel prize apricot poodles stop must have large airy cabin and special attendant and quarters for poodles stop am grooming poodles for exhibition at international London show in July stop attendant must have knowledge of canine beauty parlor practices stop results of July exhibition of utmost importance stop will not object to your pet farm getting favorable publicity from my visit if everything is satisfactory. (SIGNED) Mrs. Hetty Hinds, 3rd.

“Did you get it all?” Peg asked at the finish.

“I think so. But what does all the stop, stop, stop mean?”

“Oh, that’s just the same as a period,” he explained quickly. “The telegraph operator explained that to me when I took down the wire from him. Wherever you see a stop, that means the end of a sentence. I don’t know who this Mrs. Hetty Hinds the third is, or what she means by all that big poodle talk, but she seems to think herself that she’s pretty important—so I thought I better let Mrs. Beesaddle know about the telegram as soon as possible. She told me she was going around to see you. Scoop and I have been pulling hard for you, Jerry. I hope she hires you.”

“She already has,” I told him happily.

“Hot dog! For the whole summer?”

“Mother wouldn’t let me hire out for the whole summer, but I’m to stay till Scoop gets back, and maybe longer.”

“Boy, I hope someone gets here pretty quick! I’m run ragged—with that blamed buzzer going all the time. Honest, Jerry, you’d think these people here hadn’t any arms or legs, the amount of waiting-on that they require. It’s get me some ice water and get me some ginger ale and get me a newspaper and get me some matches and get my dog a biscuit and get me, get me, get me! So the sooner you get here to help, the better for me.”

“Red would like to get in there, too,” I told Peg, when he finally weakly ran down. “He’s all cut up because I’m leaving this morning.”

“Well, why doesn’t he apply for that poodle attendant job?” laughed Peg. “The poodle woman wants someone with beauty parlor experience, and certainly he must have picked up some experience while hanging around that beauty parlor of his aunt’s.”

Beauty parlor experience! A poodle attendant! And we had been talking about starting a poodle parlor!

“Hello!” Peg jiggled the hook at his end. “Are you still there, Jerry?”

“Sure thing,” I told him excitedly. “I was just thinking of something. You see, Red and I were talking just yesterday afternoon about starting a beauty parlor for cats and dogs in his barn. We were going to call it a poodle parlor, too. So when you just made that suggestion!—and mentioned a beauty parlor and everything!—well, gosh, Peg, you—you almost took my breath away! It was almost as though you knew what we had been talking about and were trying to help us from your end.”

“It does look like a set-up?” he laughed oddly.

“Almost perfect—if you ask me. We decided it wouldn’t work here in town, but it’s exactly what you need over there. A poodle parlor! Will Red ever be surprised when he hears that we’re going to have one after all—and possibly with him running it! I’ll tell Mrs. Beesaddle all about our scheme as soon as she gets here,” I wound up excitedly. “Gee, I hope she does hire Red! Wouldn’t it be swell if she hired all four of us?”

“Bid Stricker just phoned over again that he’s going to get me tonight, rain or shine, so the more of you that turn up here before dark the better for me. Otherwise I’ll have to fight the gang all alone, I guess. Boy, they can’t bluff me out!”

“Well, you’re sure of me,” I told him, tickled pink that I was going to be in it myself.

“And m-m-me, too,” put in Horse Foot, who had come in while I was talking and now stood listening.

“I’ll have to go now, Jerry,” Peg told me hurriedly, “for the old buzzer’s going again.”

Hanging up, I went at Horse Foot sharply.

“What did you mean by that ‘and me’ stuff?” I demanded.

“I’m goin, t-t-too,” he beamed.

“Listen, nervy!—you’ve got entirely too much crust. Wait till someone asks you to go.”

“S-s-she did, Jerry,” his eyes danced.

“Who?” I began to stare. “Mrs. Beesaddle?”

“S-s-sure thing,” he bobbed his head. “I called her up at the bank and said could I g-g-get a job like Jerry Todd, and she said s-s-sure—to get my clothes and meet her here.”

And Red had called him a goose egg! Boy, there wasn’t any “goose” about him—unless he was the “goose” that got the early worm!

“Aren’t you g-g-glad I’m going, Jerry?” he beamed.

“But you can’t go,” I yelled at him, on Red’s side. “We want Red first. He was in the gang first and he should come first.”

“I’m h-h-hired,” Horse Foot strutted. “I’m g-g-going to be head poodle tender.”

“Did Mrs. Beesaddle tell you that?” I further stared.

“S-s-sure thing.”

“And you’re sure she said poodle tender, and not just dog tender?”

“No, she s-s-said poodle tender.”

“Then she must know about that telegram already,” I quickly thought it out. “The telegraph operator must have heard she was in town and looked her up to tell her about it.”

“I t-t-think he did, Jerry, from what she said.”

“But she certainly was loony if she hired you for a poodle tender,” I fired my scowl back at him.

“S-s-she said she remembered me,” he further beamed proudly.

“I don’t know how she could ever forget you!” I sneered. “But listen, Horse Foot,” I changed to a nice persuasive wheedle, “why don’t you let Red have first chance? Please! You wouldn’t like to take care of a mess of poodles anyway—they’re snippy looking things! Why don’t you wait till we can get you a better job over there?—taking care of some nice big Saint Bernards? For Saint Bernards are heroes. They’re more your type, Horse Foot—and not poodles! Oof! No, you don’t want that job.”

“B-b-boloney!” he motioned me off. “I do, t-t-too, want it.”

“If you’ll wait,” I went on persuasively, “I’ll give you the two dollars we were going to buy lumber with.”

“Nope,” he bit off.

“And I’ll throw in my air gun,” I further offered.

“Nope.”

“And a pair of roller skates,” I piled it up.

“Nope.”

“Well, then,” I asked desperately, “what will you take?”

“I’m h-h-hired, and I’m going,” he said flatly.