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Read Ebook: Old Court Life in Spain vol. 2/2 by Elliot Frances Minto Dickinson
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Ebook has 149 lines and 5394 words, and 3 pages
BY E. C. CLAYTON.
LONDON: DEAN & SON, 160A, FLEET STREET, E.C., PUBLISHERS AND CHRISTMAS CARD MANUFACTURERS.
THE FOOLISH COAT.
THE Coat was in a downright rage.
"To be beaten, and caned, and cuffed, and shaken, two or three times a-day," cried he, whisking his tails about like an angry lion, "I say it's a shame."
"It's all very well for you to talk, Mr. Cane," said the Coat, still more in a rage. "Nobody ever hits you, and if they did, you could hit back. And as for you, Mr. Hat, nobody ever thinks of punching you, except in fun. You have a nice soft brush all to yourself."
"Well, are you not brushed as well?" asked the Hat.
"Hallo, hallo, hallo!" cried the Valet. "What are you doing?"
But the Coat hung the Valet on a nail, and snatched up the Cane.
"Now, look here, Mister Valet," said he. "I'm not going to be dusted and beaten and thumped. I'm just going to show you what it feels like, Mister Valet."
"What are you talking about, you stupid old Coat?" said the Valet.
"I'll let you see," said the Coat, flourishing the Cane.
The Cane could not help himself, for he was thin.
Thump, thump, thump, went the Coat, blowing out such clouds and clouds of dust from the Valet's clothes, never remembering he was covering himself with dust, and making himself look shockingly shabby. The Valet called out as loud as he could for help, but nobody heard him, and the Coat kept on thumping till his sleeves fairly ached. Then he dropped the Cane, fell on the dirty floor, and whisked his tails with great satisfaction.
The Cane jumped up, and lifted down the Valet, who went off to his own room.
A few days after, the master came in, and looked at the Coat, which he had meant to wear at a jolly garden party.
"Oh," said he, "how dreadfully shabby that Coat looks."
"Yes, sir," said the Valet, "he won't allow himself to be brushed or dusted."
"Oh, won't he?" said the Master, "that's all very fine, but it won't do for me." So he seized the Cane, and gave the Coat one good thump. But such a cloud of dust came out of the Coat that the Master threw down the Cane, and ran to the door.
"Oh," cried he, "I can't wear that frightful old thing any more. It is disgracefully shabby and dusty. Sell it to the first 'ole clo'' man that comes along." But he took the Hat, and went to the nice party.
And what do you think became of this foolish Coat? Why, he was hung on a stick in a field to make a scare-crow. And serve him right, a stupid thing.
ALF AND THE PARROT.
The old Poll Parrot was in a rage; He bounced and spluttered about in his cage.
The reason he felt so much displeased Was because young Alf had worried and teased.
He pecked, and bobbed, and knocked with his beak, Too much enraged to be able to speak.
To tease him was a scandalous shame: Alf was a bad boy, and much to blame.
"I tell you, young Alf," at last Poll said, "If you don't leave off, I'll snap off your head.
"You think you're allowed to tease a bird. Now, that idea's extremely absurd.
"One thing, young Alf, is certain and sure-- Your worry and bother no more I'll endure.
"Another thing, Alf, is also clear: I mean to walk out, and lock you in here."
Cried Alf, "I think this horrible bird Is going to be as good as his word."
Laughed old Poll, as he perched on a chair, "You thought to punish you I'd never dare.
"You may bawl or howl, or scream and rage-- I'm going to lock the door of the cage!"
Alfy did cry out--Oh! didn't he shout, When he found the Parrot would not let him out!
So Alf was forced to make up his mind In the cage of the Parrot to be confined.
THE CLEVER HARE.
"TO be hunted, and trapped, and watched for by night, and--and--I don't know what, is most abominable!" said the Hare.
Some dogs had frightened him, and he had run--run like a hare, in fact, and then sat down upon his form to think. The dogs had not stood upon ceremony, so he didn't choose to stand upon forms, but sat down comfortably.
He twitched his ears, and scratched his wig, and thought.
At that moment he heard a sound.
"Wow! bow, wow, wow!" barked some dog, a little way off.
The Hare jumped up again, and flew off as quick as his legs would carry him. After running some distance, he sat down again, but this time he found neither forms nor ceremonies.
But he found something that was better. A gun and a sportsman's bag were lying near, and he eyed them.
"I wonder if that gun would go off if I touched it!" he said to himself.
He walked round and round it, and then cautiously pawed it. No: it didn't seem to have the least idea of going off.
Then he lifted it up, and grew quite bold.
"I wonder if I could shoot anything?" thought he.
He aimed at a bird, and brought it down.
"Bravo, bravo, bravo!" cried he. "I'll take this gun, and then if anybody tries to torment or to catch me, I'll--I'll kill them."
He hung the bag round his waist, and put the gun on his shoulder, then walked off to his home. On the way, a boy ran at him, and cried "Bo!" but he just pointed the gun, and the boy ran away.
The Hare lived all by himself, but he was very comfortable. Nobody could bother him, and he would have been quite content only for the men and the dogs.
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