The wanderer and his wife
Master Sunshine was such a busy boy.
Sometimes it seemed to him that the reason he did
not get into as much mischief as other boys of his
age was because he really had no time in which to be
idle.
There was school each day, to begin
with, and lessons to be prepared, and story-books
to read, and the flower-garden to be cared for, and
Gyp to teach new tricks to, and the pets to be tended
and looked after, in fact, there were more
things than I can tell you of always waiting to be
done.
It was nearly one boy’s work,
for instance, to take care of the Guinea fowls, the
handsome, mottled hens, that never knew when they
were well off, but were always running away and getting
lost. If it had not been for their shrill, silly
cackle, their hiding-places would never have been
found. Master Sunshine pursued them every time
they strayed, and brought them home triumphantly.
I think he loved his sturdy family of Cochin Chinas
best; for the great rooster, with his well-feathered
legs and scarlet comb, always seemed to recognize
him as a friend, and the plump hens laid the most
delicious eggs, the exact hue of their own buff plumage.
It was never any trouble to feed and water them, or
to let them out of the hen-yard for a short run.
Every one knew that the Wanderer and
his Wife were Master Sunshine’s property.
The Wanderer was a great white gander, with a long
neck and a still longer tongue, if one could measure
it by the clatter it made in the world. His Wife
was a patient gray goose, who waddled after him unceasingly,
and was always ready to add her shrill voice to his.
It troubled their young owner not
a little that the Wanderer had to wear a great yoke
of light wood about his neck; but after the bird had
twice run away and trampled the gardens of their neighbors,
he could see that it was necessary.
Almira Jane put the matter very clearly
before him. “I don’t think he does
like his collar much, and it ain’t really ornamental,”
said she; “but it is kinder to the neighbors
to have him wear a yoke so that he cannot squeeze
between the pickets in the fences to destroy the gardens.”
“But the goose may do the same
mischief,” interrupted Master Sunshine anxiously.
Almira Jane shook her head wisely.
“The poor silly thing will never
think of it by herself,” she answered.
“All she does is to follow her mate; and if we
keep him out of trouble, she will be all right, I
promise you.”
It always made Almira Jane laugh when
she thought of the day when Master Sunshine brought
the Wanderers home. Master Sunshine had gone
to old Mrs. Sorefoot, who lived down the road, to get
a setting of Leghorn eggs. The old lady, whose
life was being made miserable by the clamor of the
pair of geese which a grandchild had brought her the
week before as a particularly choice gift, told Master
Sunshine that, if he would but take them away, they
should be his property.
The little fellow was more delighted
than I can tell you. He had always wanted to
own geese, and this was such a good chance. And
he made up his mind on the instant that as soon as
he got them home, he would remove the queer-looking
collar from the gander’s neck.
Then he set out for home, oh, so proudly!
On one arm he carried carefully the
basket of eggs; under the other was the gray goose,
with her legs securely tied. Behind him, led,
or rather dragged, by a stout cord passed through the
opening in the yoke, came the white gander, who was
quite able by spreading his powerful wings to contest
every step of the way. Poor Master Sunshine!
What a time he did have, and how very hot and excited
he was before he reached home!
Almira Jane saw him coming, and flew
to meet him. Never in her life had she seen such
a strange sight. The little fellow set the basket
of eggs gently on the ground, laid the struggling goose
on her side, and made the Wanderer fast to a fence-post,
before he could answer her many questions.
Then he mopped his forehead with his
small handkerchief, and drew a deep sigh of relief.
“O Almira Jane! it has been
the worst time,” he said. “If you’ll
just look at my stockings, I am afraid you will see
that there is lots of darning to be done.”
Almira Jane surveyed the calves of
his plump legs wonderingly. Sure enough, there
were dozens of little round holes through which the
pink skin was showing. There were even little
stains of blood on the ravelled yarn.
“The old gander has nipped my
legs with his sharp bill, and butted me with his yoke,
and pulled on the string so I could scarcely keep
my feet. The gray goose has flapped me with her
wings whenever she got the chance; and in getting
them safely here, I nearly fell a dozen times, and
broke the whole setting of eggs,” he said excitedly.
Almira Jane looked admiringly at him.
“You ain’t got much strength, but you
got considerable grit,” she said proudly.
“But they didn’t know
how inconvenient it was for me,” added the boy
more calmly. “When they see how kind we
are to them, I think they will be sorry about the
way they treated me.”
Almira Jane looked at the gander critically,
and cut the string that bound the gray goose’s
legs, before she made any reply.
“They need their wings clipped,”
she said. “That is the kindest thing we
can do for them.”
Master Sunshine looked both surprised and grieved.
“You see, Sunshine,” she
continued, “geese are wild birds still, though
generations and generations of our grandfathers tried
to tame them, yet they are not wild enough to look
after themselves. When they stray away from their
homes they have not wit enough either to find food
which is suitable to them, or to hide themselves from
dogs or wild animals who delight to worry them; so
the best thing we can do is to fit them for the life
we want them to lead.”
Master Sunshine nodded thoughtfully.
He had great faith in Almira Jane’s knowledge,
and the good sense of her arguments always satisfied
his judgment.
It was not until he had gone in the
house, and was well out of hearing, that Almira Jane
began to laugh; and such a clear, ringing, downright,
hearty laugh it was, the old Wanderer bumped his yoke
against the fence to show his approval, and the gray
goose joined in with high, shrill screams of delight.
It really seemed as if they were trying to tell Almira
Jane what they thought of their journey along the
road with their new master.
There were not many houses near the
pretty white cottage in which Master Sunshine lived.
The Hill-top school, of which he was a pupil, was
quite a half-mile away; and Tommy Dane, who lived just
across the street from his home, used to walk there
with him every day. Master Sunshine was very
fond of Tommy, though his little friend had some ways
that he did not wholly like.
The only other boy near-by was Billy
Butler, a poor, half-witted idiot, who lived with
his family in a tiny cottage under the side of a hill.
Master Sunshine was very pitiful of Billy’s sad
lot, and many an apple and slice of bread did he share
with him.
Not far away was the beautiful summer
house of Mr. Patterson, a city banker. The lawns
and flower-beds there were always beautiful to see;
and the great house with its many bay windows and broad
verandas always seemed like a palace to Master Sunshine.
But best of all he loved the great stable where a
prancing silver horse was always riding on the weather
vane.
It was at the stable that he saw his
friend Jacob, who was quite as wonderful in his knowledge
of animals as Almira Jane.
It took a great deal of Master Sunshine’s
time just to repeat Jacob’s stories to Almira
Jane; and he noticed that whenever he began to tell
Jacob about what Almira Jane said Almira
Jane was brought up on a Nova Scotia farm and knew
everything about animals his listener would
stamp on the barn floor to show his approval, and
would listen to every word.
The great stable was a very pleasant
place these spring days. The horses were all
so well groomed, their stalls were all so perfectly
clean, and, in the barn beyond, the cows looked round
from their place with such friendly eyes, Master Sunshine
used to wish that every one in the village would come
to admire the place and to talk with Jacob. He
was sure that everyone who talked to Jacob would be
kind to animals ever after.