Читать книгу Pee-Wee Harris in Darkest Africa - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 5

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The little boy was greatly awed by Pee-Wee. But he was awed too by the mirthful girl who laughed so freely at this martial hero. For himself it was all he could bring himself to do timidly to address the scout. And he deferred doing even that until Pee-Wee, his mouth dripping with gooey chocolate, strode out of the store which he honored with his patronage. The little boy followed him and was emboldened to make the only claim that he could think of to this masterful and gorgeous missionary of scouting.

“I’m—I’m not scared of spiders,” he said, “I—I just as soon pick one up, honest I would. Could—maybe could I be a member of those scouts? I ain’t scared of snakes either. So maybe could I join?”

“You got to be scared of some kinds,” Pee-Wee thundered at him. “Boa-constrictors, you got to be scared of these. And cobras too, they live in India.”

“Then why do I have to be scared of them?” the timid little boy ventured. “Do I have to be scared of snakes that live in India?”

Pee-Wee did not know of any answer to this poser so he said, “Maybe they might move over here.”

“If I’m not scared of skunks could I join?” the little boy asked. “I’m not scared of rattlesnakes either. So could I join because I killed a rattlesnake and there ain’t any scouts where I live—that’s my father waiting for me in that wagon. That’s where I live, in Hickson’s Crossroads. So if you’re going to go get ’em, would you please maybe get me, because I want to join?” If he was not afraid of snakes he was certainly afraid of Pee-Wee and he showed it as he stood on the sidewalk trembling with new born hope while the drowsy Tibbels senior aroused himself and gazed rather impatiently down upon the two as they talked. “Can you join if you don’t live in a town, because I could come here on the bus?”

“You mean you haven’t got any scouts in Hickson’s Crossroads?” Pee-Wee shouted.

“No but we got a lot of fellows and I can show you where there’s a woodchuck hole too where it comes out in two places and the school teacher wishes we’d have some scouts and she’s nice—she wouldn’t laugh at you. If she writes you a letter will you let me join? Because now I got to go home with my father.”

It was well known of Pee-Wee that he was lucky. And never had luck smiled more kindly on him than now. Here indeed was an opportunity to scout out scoutish scouts for scouting. Here was the chance to go-get-em. Here was a benighted village, with snakes and skunks to be sure, but no scouts.

“Didn’t I track a fox almost there?” Pee-Wee demanded by way of establishing a claim upon the village. “You can ask Harvey Willetts if I didn’t. Only it was a wheelbarrow instead of a fox but anyway a fox drags his tail and it looks like a wheelbarrow—I tracked it all the way to the river. Geeeee whiz, lots of times I was in Hickson’s Crossroads. You leave it to me, I’m coming there to scoutch—I mean scout scoutishly for scouting. Even I got to turn the place inside out, I mean outside in, because that’s what it says on that bulletin. I’m coming there right away tomorrow and I’m going to start a whole patrol there and maybe we’ll call it the Woodchucks on account of that woodchuck hole there, and you can be the assistant patrol leader and that means you’d be the really truly patrol leader pretty soon because I’ll be away off in Africa and you can be the patrol leader till I get back and maybe we’ll call it the lions or the giraffes or something like that, because I’ll be hunting those and we’ll have our meetings in the school house because school teachers got to stick up for the scouts and help them and we’ll scoutish scout out thoughts that we can’t do it, there are more scouts outside scouting than in so it says I got to turn everything inside out I mean outside in—I’ll show you, you leave it to me.”

Little Claudius Tibbels gazed astonished at this human thunderstorm in scout attire. He felt somewhat as the mischievous boy feels who slyly rings a fire alarm and then beholds the noisy engines descending upon him from every direction. He was aghast at the upheaval he had caused. He had indulged the hope that he might be accepted into the scouts; he had not expected to be made partner in an organizing enterprise in his quiet village. A timid, unobtrusive boy, he was somewhat afraid even of the Hickson’s Crossroads younger set who were now summarily to be drafted into scouting. And he, poor little Claudius Tibbels (Tibby as they called him) to be elevated to leadership while his enterprising chief was in Africa!

“I’m afraid they won’t mind me,” he modestly suggested. “Maybe I better join your patrol—maybe.”

“They’ll mind you if I tell ’em to; you got to mind your superiors, that’s what it says in the rules. And they’ve got to join too because they’ve got to have civilized pride, I mean civil, I mean civic. If a town doesn’t have any scouts that shows it hasn’t got any civilized pride. So I’ll come down there tomorrow.”

“Maybe they won’t let you start a patrol,” the fearful Claudius said. He was himself somewhat the object of ridicule in his quiet village; he had not thought that the consummation of his fondest hope would be accompanied by any such local upheaval as Pee-Wee evidently contemplated. He was terrified by the tremendous enterprise of this terrible scout. His father had quite subsided into sleep again and the poor little boy lingered still to say, “They’re kind of strict sometimes they are, in that village. Maybe they won’t let you turn it inside out. You got to get permits for everything there. There was a circus coming next Saturday and they won’t let it come because a boy down there ran away with a circus last year. So they dassen’t come any more now, the Mayor says so. Maybe, could I join your patrol, hey?”

“That shows how much of a lot they don’t know,” Pee-Wee thundered. “Do you mean to tell me they’re the boss of the scouts? That shows! It shows they’re crazy about circuses too. I’ll fix it about the circus, you leave it to me. Because, geee whiz, they got to listen to a boy scout. So I’m coming to your town and I’m going to turn it inside out, it says I got a right to do that—the bulletin.”

This was rather a free interpretation of the bulletin and the fearful Claudius stared aghast. He did not care to ride into scouting on the crest of such a tidal wave. He was just a simple, unobtrusive little country boy who had dreamed of joining the scouts. He would have liked to do this without its being known to his comrades.

“You leave it to me,” Pee-Wee said. “I’m going to start a dandy patrol in your village and you can help me scout outch—scout outch—get a lot of fellows into scouting. And I bet I can fix it about the circus too because even I was mayor of this town for one day in Boys’ Week. So do you think I can’t handle Hickson’s Crossroads? Geeeeeeee whiz!”

Little Claudius Tibbels had seen Pee-Wee “handle” and annihilate a banana split and an apple simultaneously. With his terrible frown, his dangling assortment of appalling implements and his deafening voice he seemed to poor little Claudius quite able to handle anything.

“You ain’t boss over rules are you?” he ventured timidly to ask. “They’ve got rules now against circuses coming.”

“You leave it to me,” Pee-Wee shouted; “because I know how to talk to civilized authorities—you leave it to me. I’m coming on Saturday.” This would have given Hickson’s Crossroads time enough to move away. Without much trouble the whole village could have effected a retreat through Babcock’s Woods. Or they could have burned their town as the people of Moscow did on the approach of Napoleon. But they did nothing and they took the consequences.