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Read Ebook: The Adventures of Peterkin by Gabriel Gilbert W Gilbert Wolf Ohrenschall Helen E Illustrator
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Ebook has 481 lines and 29671 words, and 10 pages
LIST OF COLORED PLATES
PAGE
"An early morning peek" 21
"Then it grew darker than midnight" 32
"So they sat themselves on the flying 43 sea-shell"
"'Take him away!' ordered the King" 55
"The whole leap took but a moment" 69
"A young peasant girl came toward him" 83
"There came floating toward him in 97 midair"
"The windows in the palace were 108 gleaming"
"She strained her eyes to watch the 121 distant harbor"
"He jumped upon his shoulders" 135
"Where was it bound? Haven't you 148 guessed?"
To Robert Stuart Marquis
ONE day old-- And all your life ahead of you! How I wish that plodding I Could be there instead of you!
One day old-- While within your cradle, you Smile to think of all the things Life will freely ladle you!
PETERKIN PUMPERKIN
I KNOW you have all heard of the little man who lived inside a pumpkin. Just why he lived there I don't exactly remember, but I can't imagine that he used to sleep so comfortably inside his tiny bowl of a bed-room.
For, when the growly wind took to blowing over the pumpkin patch and set the fat yellow balls of pumpkins swaying from this side to that on their slender vines, poor Peterkin would be jounced clear out of bed and sent spinning round and round the circled pumpkin wall.
"Ugh, ouch!" he would groan. "My poor head's all bumps and bruises. Ugh, ugh! Why in the name of everything foolish did I ever come to live in a pumpkin? Why didn't I stay in a sensible house, and live like other folks live? Oh, ouch!" And then, as the wind gave one last roar and his jouncing little home gave one last, extra large somersault on its vine, Peterkin would usually find himself thwacked back into bed again, with his feet on the pillow and his head buried deep in the mattress.
The wind, of course, thought it the greatest fun in the world. The wind was only a jolly playmate, after all--even if he was a bit too rough about it. And the wind could never understand what made Peterkin so angry in the matter.
"Whee! I love to play free and frolic! I love to send the little leaves whirling and the dust mounds swirling, and the heavy laden pine-boughs tossing with sighs. I love to chase the thin gray wisps of mist and the spattering rain-drops as they fall, and to rattle the frosted window panes. Whee! I'm sure I'm more than gentle with Peterkin Pumperkin. I always take care not to snap his anchor stem! I always leave him fast upon his vine. Whee, whiz!"
He rushed down upon them, charging with a trumpet's roar. And in his wild path he rolled the clumsy pumpkins to this side and that, until their rumble fairly shook the earth.
Poor Peterkin was dozing at his tiny stove, just then--for it was very chilly and shivery inside his Pumperkin house. Whee! whistled the wind. Whee! it shrieked, right over his head.
Then, suddenly, the terrible thing happened! The thing that Peterkin had feared so many years! SNAP! went the stem of Peterkin's Pumperkin--off the vine, out of the patch--free, anchorless, guideless! And away and away rolled the pumpkin house--down the bumpy field, across the ditch, through the brook, to the top of a steep hill. Then away and away, down, down, down, went Peterkin and his Pumperkin--over and over in swift, dizzy tumbles. Head up, feet down, head down, feet up--down, down, down! Then up another hill. Up, up, to its top, with poor Peterkin turning an unwilling somersault at every yard!
But, oh, at the top of this hill is a precipice--and beyond it, miles below, is the sea. Ah, what will happen now to Peterkin? His pumpkin house reaches the edge of the precipice, seems to linger for a short moment, then shoots far out and down, down into the sea! It sinks beneath the waves, then slowly bobs up again, sinks again, comes up again and floats peacefully away with the tide.
And now, with this strange happening, begin the marvellous adventures of Peterkin in his Pumperkin! Let's hope that in the next of them the wind, that merry playfellow, will try to be more gentle.
PETERKIN AFLOAT
WHEN last we heard of Peterkin--do you remember?--he was afloat on the waves in his pumpkin house. And sailing swiftly out to sea!
Peterkin, as soon as he had gained his breath, climbed out of the tangle of bed-clothes and furniture which his sudden fall had thrown over and all about him. Then he pinched himself in every limb, and was glad to find everything whole and sound.
He pulled his little ladder out from under a tumble of pots and pans and bric-a-brac and blankets, and set it up against the wall. Then up he clambered, step by step, until he had poked his head through the hole, in the Pumperkin's top, which served for a door and a window and ceiling, all at the same time. It gave him just a glimpse of the open air and the wide stretch of sea on every hand. Waves--blue, choppy, hopping waves, as far as Peterkin could see ... nothing but waves!
Well, there was nothing for it but to go back into his house and sit by the stove and begin to cry. Not that crying could help matters any--but Peterkin was sad at all these sudden happenings, and somehow his tears did make him feel a little better.
"Boohoo!" wept he. "It's all the fault of the wicked wind! One moment I was safe and dozing at home in my old pumpkin patch; the next, here I am bobbing and lost on the face of the ocean. The only thing I have to be thankful for is that there's still a warm fire in my stove. Boohoo!"
And oh, the saddest part of it all is that he wept so hard, and so many of his tears spilled down into the stove that--what did he do but put the fire out! And soon enough his pumpkin house grew cold and cheerless and wet with the briny waves which came dashing in through the door-window-ceiling.
It was a dreary party now. Peterkin felt his yellow ball of a boat leap and fall with every wave. Everything rattled and jingled to the see-saw motion. He grew dizzy. He could scarcely steady himself to climb up the ladder a second time. He could hardly see the white froth at the crests of the waves and the deep green of their troughs. He made out a ship passing by, miles and miles away. He screamed and waved his coat and whistled between two fingers--did everything he could think of to make the sailors see and save him. But the ship sailed on and away, until the white specks of its sails had faded from view.
Night came on, gray and then blue, and the waves never tired of their ceaseless jigging. Peterkin crouched on the floor of his Pumperkin and thought of the fate which awaited him, and worried himself into a troubled sleep. Many times during the long, dark hours he woke up with a start, and, through the hole in the house-top, caught a glimpse of the stars and a smack of the salt spray. The last time he awoke, the stars had been swallowed up in the graying sky by a streak of glowing red, and Peterkin knew it was the dawn.
Later, when the sunshine came straggling into his shell on the drops of glistening spray, he climbed his ladder for an early morning peek. White mists were rolling back across the waves, and ... oh! what was that?
Not a hundred yards away, a thin fountain, shimmering like silver, rose up out of the green of the sea and curved down again upon it. Again it came--and again! Up, up--fifty feet into the air, a gleaming fountain! And then, as it came nearer and nearer, Peterkin caught the glimpse of a black fin ... and a huge jaw!
Ugh! What could it be?
PETERKIN AND THE WHALE
A WHALE! Yes, it was a big, black, hungry whale! And it was drawing closer and closer to Peterkin's pumpkin boat every time he blinked.
Peterkin could see its forked tail now and its great, darkly gleaming sides. Once it disappeared completely under the foam, and when it rose again, it was so near that Peterkin saw its ugly little eyes and a white row of jagged teeth. Whenever it flashed its tail and fins, there was a great churning of water, and the Pumperkin would roll and rock so fiercely that it almost dumped its poor owner into the ocean.
The whale, I'm sure, did not know what to make of it. The whale was used to boats, of course--but boats with sails and pointed prows and sailors in the rigging. While here was something round and fat, and such a golden yellow! No bow it had, nor stern, nor sails, nor flags, nor rudder. "Is it really and truly a boat?" thought the whale. Well, this would have to be looked into very closely!
So the big whale came puffing and fountaining up to the little Pumperkin.
"Oh, oh," it sighed, "what a pretty thing to frisk with! Just like a play-toy! Here's where I have my day's fun!" And with that it dived deep under the pumpkin boat and came up on the other side. "Haw, haw," it chuckled--as only a whale can chuckle--"what bully good sport! Just to look at that little man who is peeking out over the side of this yellow ball! Just to see how surprised he looks to find me over here, where he didn't expect me to be! Haw, haw!" And the whale gave another frolicsome wiggle to his tail--nearly upsetting the Pumperkin again.
As for Peterkin, he was chattering with fear. He did not know what was coming next! Perhaps the whale was about to swallow him for breakfast. Yes, yes, it was surely up to some mischief, was this black whale. For it had disappeared again. Oh, what now?
True, the playful whale had taken another dive under the bottom of the pumpkin. But it didn't bother to come up on the other side. It just stayed there under water, directly beneath the Pumperkin.
"Haw, I wonder what would happen if I should squirt my fountain into the air?" thought the whale--and being a whale, it had to take a long while to think it over. In the dreadful pause, Peterkin trembled so hard that his stove and his bed and all the furniture took to rattling, too.
Then, suddenly, the Pumperkin, Peterkin and all, shot fifty feet high into the air! Up, up, like a bubble at the top of a mighty geyser, it rose with the stream of the whale's fountain. For the wink of an eye, it seemed to hang there--then down it came again--down with a spatter and splash into the trough of the sea!
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