Читать книгу Pee-wee Harris: As Good As His Word - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 11

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Why the wanton breeze patronized Barrel Alley need not concern us. It stirred up a veritable army of buoyant refuse, and a multitude of crumpled bits of waxed tissue paper which had been wrapped around the iceberg pies came dancing gayly back like pesky little ghosts to haunt Pee-wee. But he could not gather them up.

Sticky and insect-laden, they danced about him and went sailing off again, rising as high as second story windows. Some terminated their gay careers by plastering themselves here and there. Wherever the seductive megaphone went that day, a flying squadron of gummy bits of tissue paper, licked by many tongues, were left cavorting in the favored neighborhoods, to do perhaps more harm than the pies themselves could ever do.

Manfully the baffled clean-up worker kept his post, balancing upright the huge pane of glass. He might have held out for an hour or two if Micky had not taken the situation in hand.

Micky’s object in visiting Barrel Alley was to get his dinner. He knew of a garbage can which, like certain restaurants, was always open. Delving in its enchanting depths he was always able to excavate many luscious treasures. There were other garbage cans in Barrel Alley, but this one was dear to the heart of Micky.

Micky was not a proud and haughty dog, bred to the luxurious custom of riding in limousines. He was a model of humility. His pedigree was obscure and his habit of life befittingly lowly. In running he had a kind of sideways gate and was continually glancing furtively to right and left in apprehension of flying sticks and stones. In Barrel Alley he was particularly wary of these and had acquired an uncanny genius for ducking them.

With sublime confidence born of a long series of sumptuous repasts, Micky approached his favorite eating place and found it closed. Already the clean-up campaign had hit poor Micky. For Scout Harris had laid a board over the top of the can and a rock on top of the board.

Micky examined these, pawed them, then cast a wistful, accusing look at Pee-wee. The mute reproach in that look went to our hero’s heart. Pee-wee saw now that in all great enterprises for good some innocents must suffer; and Micky was a martyr to the cause.

With a sudden pang of remorse Pee-wee whistled to Micky, but the dog disregarded the friendly overture. The kind heart of the scout (who was sworn to be friendly and humane to animals) was touched by the look eloquent of utter despair on the unkempt countenance of the little pilgrim. He had proceeded so straight, and with such perfect confidence, to his destination.

“Here you go, come here,” Pee-wee urged, and whistled again.

Micky cocked his head, contemplating Pee-wee doubtfully. He did not actually commit himself by wagging his tail, but it vibrated a little as a sort of preliminary to a wag. Then he looked at the garbage can and whined a little as if to say that if Pee-wee really wished to institute friendly relations he would unbar the door to Micky’s commissary. Indeed, if Pee-wee had been free he probably would have done so, for in his stout little heart the call of anguish was ever stronger than the call of a clean-up drive. But being himself marooned on the desolate curb of Barrel Alley he could only watch the suffering which he had caused.

Presently he whistled again and this time the injured pilgrim advanced cautiously with an unmistakable wag of his tail. He seemed not to harbor any deep resentment against the wrecker of his hopes.

It was just in that moment that Pee-Wee, by a well-considered gymnastic effort, succeeded in reaching the ground with one hand and lifting the dead rat by the tail. His object was to remove a horrible temptation from Micky. In that same moment also Micky, like the breeze, sprang up, and there ensued a resounding catastrophe which filled every window in Barrel Alley with astonished, gaping faces.

Micky himself was not the least amazed of the spectators, for he had never dreamed of creating such a stir in the world. He did not linger for the sequel, but disappeared precipitately leaving Scout Harris standing amid the ten billion fragments of glass which lay scattered across the narrow, muddy thoroughfare.

Just at that moment the sound of an automobile could be heard and a big sedan car rounded the corner and headed down the alley at breakneck speed.