Chapter 5. Tomty

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_ CHAPTER V. TOMTY

BRIGHTEYES had been spending the morning with Tomty of course; anyone might have known that, for she was always with Tomty whenever she could not be found anywhere else. Tomty was the gardener, and his real name was Thomas Wilson, but the mice thought that Tomty was a much better name, and I think so too. He was the kindest gardener that ever lived, I think, and I have seen a good many. He liked nothing better than to have all the five mice trotting at his heels while he went about his work. They might hide his shears, and run off with his trowel, and take his rake and hoe for hobbyhorses, but Tomty was never out of patience with them.

"Sure, they're young things!" he used to say. "Let them enjoy themselves now, for they'll be older before they're younger!" Which was a very sensible remark.

"Tomty!" said Brighteyes.

"Yes, miss."

"I want to go into the barn-yard again to see Jose."

"And that is just where I am going, miss," said Tomty; "so if you will sit in the wheelbarrow, I'll give you a ride!" so Brighteyes jumped into the wheelbarrow and was wheeled off in fine style.

"Do you know who invented the wheelbarrow, Tomty?" she asked as they went along.

"Yes miss," replied Tomty. "Hiram Deluce made this one, miss."

"I don't mean this one," said Brighteyes. "I mean the first one that ever was made. It was a great painter, one of the greatest painters that ever lived, only I can't remember his name. Uncle Jack told me about him."

"Yes Miss!" said Tomty. "More likely a _car_-painter, Miss. I don't know what a painter would want of a barrow, unless to paint it, and that's soon done."

A car-painter! Brighteyes thought that was very funny, and she thought Tomty was very clever.

But now they were in the barn-yard, and she straightway forgot about wheel-barrows and painters, for Jose, the little brown donkey, was loose, and was trying with might and main to open the further gate of the yard, a trick of which he was extremely fond, and in which he certainly excelled.

"Oh! Tomty," cried Brighteyes, "shut the gate, and let us catch Jose. Naughty donkey, how did you get out? Come here, good Jose! come here, poor fellow!" But Jose (that is a Spanish name, by the way, and is pronounced Hosay,) had no idea of going there.

"I wont!" he said. "I wo-_hon't_! go away-_hay!_" and up went his heels, higher than ever. It must be very provoking to animals to have human beings pay absolutely no attention to their remarks. Really, it is so stupid sometimes. There was Jose, speaking quite distinctly for a donkey, and Brighteyes only clapped her hands to her ears and cried "Oh! what a dreadful bray!" and in the barn, meanwhile, Pollux, the off horse, was saying to John, over and over again, "I don't like this stall, John! please give me another. And do loosen this strap a little, for it makes my head ache." To which John replied, "So, boy! quiet now!" which must have been extremely aggravating.

Why, I saw a little girl once,--a little German girl she was, named Hannchen,--sit for half an hour listening with great delight to a bird which was singing away with all its might, perched on a neighboring twig. And what do you think the bird was saying in its song?

"You horrid little monster, why will you not go away? I want to get some caterpillars from that tree behind you, and I cannot get at them while you are there. My children are waiting for their dinner, and though I have asked you fifty times, as politely as I could, to move, you will not stir, but just sit there and look silly. Oh! you provoking little creature! I should like to peck you!" And little Hannchen, smiling, said "thank you, pretty bird, for your sweet song!"

It was quite a piece of work to catch Master Jose, but John came out to help Thomas and finally the obstinate little brown gentleman was fairly cornered, and had to submit to the halter.

"Poor fellow!" said Brighteyes. "It must seem very hard to be tied up all the time. I am sure _I_ should not like to have a strap round my nose, Tomty, and stand all day with nothing but the barn walls to look at."

"And indeed you would not, Miss!" replied Tomty gravely. "But sure no one would go for to put a strap round a little lady's nose, Miss, let alone putting her in the barn."

"Oh! you funny Tomty!" cried Brighteyes. "I meant, if I were a donkey, of course!"

"Yes, Miss! but you see you are not a donkey," said Tomty placidly. "And now I must go back to the flower-beds again, Miss Brighteyes," he added. "And will you go with me, Miss, or shall I leave you here?"

"Well, Tomty, I think I will stay here for a little while and talk to the chickabiddies. I don't think they know me yet, and I want them to know me and love me, for Uncle Jack says I may feed them every morning. You won't be lonely without me, will you, Tomty?"

"Well, Miss, I'll do my best!" said Tomty.

With which rather vague remark the good man took up his wheelbarrow and departed, leaving Brighteyes alone in the barn-yard. Alone, that is, except for the fowls. They had just arrived that morning, and they evidently did not feel at home in their new quarters. The hens were scratching and bustling about in great excitement, while one of the roosters, standing on top of the fence, preached them a sermon on keeping their tempers.

"Be calm!" he said. "Be calm, my dears! haste makes waste. Observe my tranquil demeanor! the truly great are calm in the midst of strife."

And he shut one eye, and looked at Brighteyes with the other, as much as to say "What do you think of that? it's nothing to what I can do if I try!" but Brighteyes burst out laughing, and said "Chook-a-raw-che-raw! I can say that too, Mr. Rooster, so you need not be so proud."

At this the rooster was deeply offended, and withdrew to a corner of the yard, muttering to himself.

Presently Brighteyes spied three fowls, two hens and an old rooster, who apparently were too sleepy to care where they were, for they had all gone to sleep, sitting side by side on a rail, and very funny they looked.

"Oh!" said Brighteyes. "Don't they look just like the sixty-five parrots asleep in a row, in the 'Four Little Children who went round the world?' Don't you remember?" she went on, half to herself and half to the other fowls, "the Pussy-Cat and the Quangle-Wangle crept softly, and bit off the tail-feathers of all the sixty-five parrots; for which Violet reproved them both severely. Notwithstanding which, she proceeded to insert all the feathers--two-hundred and sixty in number--in her bonnet; thereby causing it to have a lovely and glittering appearance, highly--well, I forget the rest," said she, "for the words are very long."

"How pretty some of those tail-feathers would look in my hat!" she continued. "I shouldn't like to bite them off, but I might pull some out, for there are so many they would never be missed. Just a few out of each tail, you know; and I am sure they wouldn't mind, if they knew it was to make my hat have a lovely and glittering appearance. One good smart pull, now--" and suiting the action to the word, she tugged with might and main at the tail of the old rooster. But the old rooster had apparently never read the story about Violet and the sixty-five parrots; for instead of submitting meekly to having his tail-feathers pulled out, he woke up in a great rage and fright, and uttering a tempest of "ka-ka-kaaa-ka-raws" he flew directly in Brighteye's face.

Greatly terrified, Brighteyes staggered backward, and sat down violently in a tub filled with hay.

Yes, that would have been very well, if there had been nothing beside hay in it. But, unfortunately, Uncle Jack had bought with these fowls some eggs of a peculiar kind, from which he hoped to get a very fine brood of chickens; and he had made a fine nest for them in this tub and left them till one of the hens should take a fancy to them.

Well, that was all over now. Brighteyes heard the crash, and knew that something dreadful must have happened. The angry rooster was fluttering and pecking at her feet, and the poor mouse, half-wild with fright, sprang up once more and rushed out of the barn-yard, forgetting in her haste to shut the gate behind her. She never stopped till she had gained the shade of the apple-trees, and there she sat down panting on the grass.

"Oh dear!" she cried, "I will never try to do things out of story-books again as long as I live. Whenever I do it, I am sure to get into trouble. The other day Uncle Jack showed me a picture in _Punch_, of some children putting out their tongues when they met the doctor, and he laughed, and said it was very funny, and so it was: so then the next time I met our doctor, I put out my tongue, but he didn't laugh, and Mrs. Posset put red pepper on my tongue, to teach me better manners. And now, just because I wanted to do what Violet did, all these dreadful things have happened. But oh!" and she sprang to her feet, "I must do something about my dress, or Mrs. Posset will say, I am 'a sight to behold!' She always says that, and I am so tired of hearing it. If I were to roll on the grass, now! we always wipe our shoes on the grass, when they are muddy, before we go into the house."

Certainly, the dress was in a very forlorn condition, being covered with egg behind, while the front of the skirt showed a number of dismal rents made by the beak and claws of the angry rooster. I did not think it would be improved by rolling on the grass, but I could not well do anything about it.

A pretty sight Miss Brighteyes was when she got up again. Egg and grass and mud were worked and rolled together into an even tint of brownish green, all over her skirts, while through the holes her scarlet petticoat looked out indignantly, blushing for its owner's misdeeds. At least, that is what my dog said about it, and he has a very pretty way of putting things. However, Missy Mouse was quite satisfied that she had done all she could in the matter, so she went on her way rejoicing.

Presently she heard voices, and she came upon Puff and Fluff, who, having put all their children to sleep, had come out to spend the rest of the bright, sunny morning in the garden. They had got out their gardening tools, and were hard at work in one of the flower-beds.

"What are you doing, Twinnies?" asked Brighteyes as she came up. "And where is Tomty?"

"Tomty is gone to his dinner," answered Puff. "And we are trying to do all his work for him before he comes back."

"Yes!" said Fluff, "because he often helps us, you know, and so we ought to help him."

"But what are all those funny-looking things sticking up?" Brighteyes asked, stooping over the bed.

"Well, sister, those are the roots of the plants," said Puff. "We heard Tomty say that what the plants needed now was sun, and so we thought the roots ought to have some sun too. So we have been turning them upside down to save Tomty the trouble."

"Save Tomty the trouble, indeed!" said Brighteyes. "Why, you naughty little mice, you have made twice as much trouble for him. The roots don't want any sun, they like to be in the dark, just like owls and bats. Now you have been naughty, and Uncle Jack will punish you."

Poor little twin mice! they looked very grave indeed. Fluffy's eyes filled with tears, and she began to rub them with her little grimy hands, which did not improve her appearance. But Puff said bravely:

"They do not _look_ a bit like owls, Brighteyes, or like bats either; but if you are really sure that they ought to be in the ground, we will put them back again."

"Well, here comes Tomty himself!" cried Brighteyes, "and you will see what he says. See, Tomty!" she went on. "These naughty twinnies have been turning the plants upside down, and spoiling them!"

"But we didn't mean to spoil them, Tomty!" cried the twins eagerly. "We thought the roots ought to have the sun, and we only wanted to save you the trouble, Tomty dear! and we are so sorry!"

Tomty rubbed his left ear, which he always did when he was put out. At least a dozen of his best plants were ruined, but he could not scold the little mice, whose little piteous faces were turned up to him imploringly.

"Well, well!" he said. "To be sure! isn't that a pity now! but they're young things, they're young things! never you mind, Missies, this time, for there are plenty more plants. But remember:

"'Roots and moles, where'er they're found,
Like to burrow in the ground.'"

"Oh! yes, you good Tomty, we will remember!" cried the twins. "And we will turn them all back again as quickly as we can."

"Well, Missies, you may do that," replied Tomty, "though it's all one now to them plants if they're on their heads or their heels. But Miss Brighteyes," he continued, turning to the elder mouse, who was looking on with an air of superior wisdom: "it's not my place to speak about the little ladies' clothes, Miss, but whatever will Mrs. Posset say when she sees your frock? and the barn-yard gate open, too, and the fowls all over the place!"

Brighteyes hung down her head and blushed as red as her petticoat: then, without saying a word, she turned away, and walked slowly toward the house.

Yes, she had been very naughty, much naughtier than the twins, whom she had been blaming; and now she would go directly in to Mrs. Posset and tell her all about it, and say she was very sorry.

That was what she thought as she walked along, and that was what she meant to do, doubtless; but dear me! sometimes I think that you people on the earth _never_ do what you mean to do. I know a gentleman in London, if you will believe it, who has been trying for five years to see the sun rise. Every night when he goes to bed he says, "Aha! to-morrow morning I shall be up bright and early, sir! Want to see the sun rise. Haven't seen it since I was a boy. Ha! ha! ha!" and then he goes to bed, and knows nothing till nine o'clock the next morning, when the sunbeams flirt gold-dust into his eyes and wake him up. Then he rubs his eyes, and says "Bless me! overslept myself again, hey? well, I never _was_ so sleepy before in my life! the sun will have to see _me_ rise this morning, hey? ha! ha! ha!"

Yes, that is the way with you all, and that was the way with Brighteyes that day. I did but turn away from the mirror for five minutes, to chat with a passing meteor, and ask him how his grandmother was; and when I turned back, where was that bright-eyed mouse but up at the very top of a tree: trying with all her might to catch a small cat, the very same cat which the dogs had been chasing an hour before.

"Dear little Pusscat!" cried Brighteyes in her most winning tones. "I wouldn't hurt you for the world. Do come, and let me take you down, and you shall be my own dear little pet, and I will love you very much indeed!" and she stretched out one arm toward the kitten, while the other clasped a branch of the tree.

The kitten looked hard at her, and on the whole seemed to approve of her, for it advanced slowly, and finally allowed itself to be captured. Yes, that was very nice; but how about getting down?

"Oh! that is easily managed!" said Brighteyes, thinking aloud as usual. "I'll hold my kitty so, you see, with one hand, and with the other I just swing myself down to that great big huge branch, _so_--" as she started, there was a sound of something tearing, and this was very natural, for the skirt of her unlucky frock was caught on a small bough and refused to accompany her to the lower branch; but it was too late for Brighteyes to stop herself. Down she went, alighting safely on the big branch, from which she could easily swing herself down to the ground. But, alas! more than half of her skirt had remained on the upper branch. There it hung, and flapped about in a most unpleasant way, and there stood Brighteyes, gazing ruefully at the ruin she had wrought, but still clasping the kitten tightly in her arms.

Now I want to ask you if you think Mrs. Posset could possibly have chosen a worse time for looking out of the window? she did, however, think it proper to look out just at that particular moment; and as I saw from her face that she meant mischief, and as I have the strongest possible objection to seeing children punished, I just tipped my glass and saw the people of Nankin ringing the bells on the Porcelain Tower, to celebrate the Emperor's birthday. _

Read next: Chapter 6. A Night Journey

Read previous: Chapter 4. Jollykaloo

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