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TITLE: W. A. G.'S TALE
AUTHOR: MARGARET TURNBULL
EBOOK: E07041 (O'Briens Book Cellar)
LANGUAGE: ENGLISH

W.A.G.'S TALE

EDITED BY

MARGARET TURNBULL

WITH ZOBZEE ILLUSTRATIONS
BY THE AUTHOR

CONTENTS

PREFACE BY AUTHOR

I.    UNCLE BURT'S BILLY
II.   OUR HOUSE
III.  OUR NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR
IV.   ON THE TOWPATH
V.    ON THE DELAWARE
VI.   GEORGE
VII.  LEFT ALONE
VIII. AT TURNER'S
IX.   THE WHITE TENT

ILLUSTRATIONS

I STARTED TO GET BETTER AND WRITE THIS BOOK (p. 153) (colored)
_Frontispiece_ From a drawing by M.L. Kirk

A ZOBZEE

ON THE BRIDGE

HE JUMPED OUT AND TOOK A ROPE AND PULLED THE BOAT CLOSE

SHE WASHED AND I DRIED

HE TURNED AND WENT INTO THE WHITE STONE HOUSE, AND ALL THE CATS RAN
AFTER HIM

HE SMOKED A PIPE, AND I PLAYED WITH ALL HIS TEDDY-CATS

BRINGS HIM DOWN, PERSIMMONS AND ALL

SO I TOOK MY FISHING-ROD AND FLICKED IT AT HIM

NEVER YOU MIND, BABY DEAR, COME ON

WHAT'S AN ABSENT-MINDED BEGGAR?

HEY, ROBINSON CRUSOE, HERE'S YOUR MAN FRIDAY

HE HAD TO TAKE A CAN-OPENER AND CUT AUNTY EDITH'S FOOT OUT

WE ALL WORKED WITH HOSE AND EVERYTHING

AUNTY MAY GOT A HATCHET AND MADE A CHOP AT THE SNAKE

I BELIEVED THEY HAD REALLY GONE AWAY, AND LEFT ME ALL ALONE

I TOLD HIM ALL ABOUT AUNTY MAY

SLID DOWN WITHOUT A BIT OF NOISE

I WOKE UP AND FOUND MYSELF LYING ON THE PORCH

AND IT WAS UNCLE BURT

W.A.G.'S TALE

PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR

I have been sick. Now I am better the Doctor makes me lie in bed because
of all that Anti-toxin he put in me, which weakens the heart. Anti-toxin
isn't a lady, it's a medicine for diphtheria. Aunty May is a lady. She
reads me books and plays games with me. But I am tired of books written
about nature, and animals, and Indians, and fairies, and I wished out
loud that somebody would write a book about a boy, just like me. So
to-day Aunty May brought me a big, thick blank book with red covers, and
with rings at the back to let me add more paper when I want to, and she
told me to write my own story, a little every day.

[Illustration: "Zobzee"]

So that's what I am going to do, and illustrate it with "Zobzees."
"Zobzees" are thin dancing people--like this. I invented that name, and
a country and a language for them, which only Aunty May and I know. But
I am not going to write my book in that. I am going to print it, like
other books, but draw "Zobzees" because they are easy; and if nobody
else reads it except me and Uncle Burt when he comes home, it will be
fun for us, anyway.

CHAPTER I

UNCLE BURT'S BILLY

My name is William Ainsworth Gordon, and my initials spell W.A.G. That
is why Aunty May and I call this book "W.A.G.'S TALE." If it was about a
dog it would be "Tail Wags." So it's true and a joke too.

I am ten years old and my father and mother are in Heaven, and I have
only Uncle Burt to take care of me. Uncle Burt isn't my real uncle, but
he was my father's chum when they were at West Point, and he promised
father to take care of me. And he does, only he had to go to the
Philippines with his soldiers; so his sister, Aunty Edith, is taking
care of me until he comes back. Everybody else calls me William, but he
calls me "Billy," so I am the one this chapter is named after.

Aunty May says I can begin with the very day Aunty Edith brought me down
here. That was the day Uncle Burt went away to join his regiment, and
everybody was sort of quiet, and even the big people cried a little. I
cried a good deal, when nobody was looking, and when Uncle Burt caught
me at it in the corner of the room, he didn't say a word, but just
picked me up and held me so tight that one of his buttons got stamped
on my cheek like a seal. He said he'd give way and cry, too, for it was
good for the eyes, only his Colonel had expressly ordered him not to,
saying he would leave all red-eyed men home, which would be terrible for
a soldier. So I begged him not to give way, and he said he wouldn't if
I'd stop, because one fellow bawling makes it hard for the other fellow
not to. So I stopped and we laughed a little, and then he showed the
mark on my cheek to Aunty Edith, and said, "This shows that this young
man belongs to me, so be careful of Uncle Burt's Billy and return him in
good condition, for there will be a dreadful time if I find him chipped
or broken, when I come back."

Then the lady I call Aunty May, though she isn't any relation to me
either, but is just Aunty Edith's friend, laughed and said she would be
careful to treat me nicely. And she has. I like her best next to Uncle
Burt. She didn't cry. She laughed a lot, and every time Uncle Burt got
sad and tried to talk to her, she laughed more, and she took me on her
lap and kept me there all the time Uncle Burt was saying good-bye
to her.

He looked more like crying then than any other time. He said,
"Good-bye, May; won't you change your mind?" and she said, "Oh, no,
Burt, I can't." Then he was going to say something else when I said,
"Remember the Colonel, Uncle Burt, and don't get your eyes too red to
go," and then they both laughed. Uncle Burt said, "Look after Miss Heath
for me, Billy, while I'm gone," and I said, "Sure I will. I'm going to
adopt her as my Aunty, too." She put her arms round me and hugged me and
Uncle Burt said, "Lucky Billy," and then the door closed, and Aunty
Edith began to cry and Aunty May looked queer for a minute and went to
the door. I thought she'd run after him, but she stopped and said,
"Come along, Sir William, and we'll pack our bags, 'cause we're all
going to the country on the 3.10." And I took hold of her hand, and we
went upstairs together, and packed my bag and put in my gun, my
soldiers, my books and my paint-box. Then Aunty Edith stopped crying and
tied a veil over her face. If she'd been a soldier she'd been left home
all right.

We got in a taxi with a lot of bags and things and went to the
Pennsylvania Station, which is miles and miles long, I think, but there
are lots of kind black men who wear red caps and run up and take your
bags and carry them for you just as easy, One of them took my bag and
Aunty May's suitcase, but Aunty Edith had another one--a fat one--all
alone for her things.

We just had time for our train, so we had to hurry right through the
waiting-room, and I couldn't stop and see all the things there are to
see, or watch the people coming down the stairs. People's legs are funny
if you watch them coming down--like things made with hinges.

Then we got into a nice big train with chairs in it that swung round.
They call it a "Pullman" which is a good name for a car, only it's the
engine that pulls the man and the car, too, really. Then we got all
comfortable, with another nice colored man who showed his teeth at us,
and put our bags up on a rack, and Aunty May gave me some sweet
chocolate and a magazine with pictures in it, and Aunty Edith said. "I
wish we didn't have to change at Trenton,"--and--then--I fell asleep.

The next thing I knew Aunty May was saying to me, "Wake up, Billy, dear,
it's Trenton now." She put on my jacket and the man took our bags again
and we stepped out on a big platform, and then another man took all our
bags and we went up one stair, and down another, and waited on a long
platform, where trains kept shooting up every minute.

I couldn't understand what the man in uniform said, until at last a
funny little train--all short, only half as long as our New York one,
and with funny, hard straight seats--came, and we climbed in. Aunty
Edith and Aunty May and me had to carry our own bags and fix 'em. The
train waited a long time, but at last it moved, and Aunty May put her
arm round me and sat me next the window, only it wasn't open, because it
was only April and wasn't warm enough yet, and said, "Now we're off to
East Penniwell."

The train just crawled along, and there was a big canal on the one
side. I saw a canal boat with two men and a dog on it, and they were
cooking something in a big pot on the top of a stove that stood right
out of doors, on top of the boat, with a stovepipe that didn't go into
any chimney, but right up into the air--with smoke coming out of it!

I showed it to Aunty May and she said, "You will see them every day when
we get to the towpath," and I felt awful glad at that, because though
the boat moved slow, the train moved fast, and I didn't get a good look
at the boy who was driving the mules. I couldn't be sure whether he'd
made a face at me or not, but I think he did.


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