All About Johnnie Jones by Carolyn Verhoeff

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Sammy Smith did not come over to play after all, because he had gone
shopping with his mother. Johnnie Jones soon grew tired of playing alone
and wished he had not been so foolish.

That night the north wind blew and blew, so that, next morning, it
was very cold when Johnnie Jones awoke. Of course he could not go to
kindergarten nor out to play, because he had no heavy coat to wear. He
begged his mother to wrap him in a shawl, and take him down town in the
carriage, but she was too busy. So poor little Johnnie Jones had to stay
in the house all day.

That evening when it was time for his story, Mother said: "I shall have
to tell you the story of the foolish squirrel, because you reminded me
of him to-day."

This is the story.

Once upon a time, there lived in the woods a little squirrel whose name
was Silver. All summer long he played about with the other squirrels and
had a very good time indeed. Then, by and by, the days began to grow
shorter and cooler. The trees began to drop their brightly colored
leaves and their nuts, and the soft green grass turned brown. The wise
old mother squirrels knew what these things meant, and they said to all
the young ones:

"Winter is coming, so hurry away,
You have no longer time to play.
Gather the nuts with all your might
Before the ground with snow is white.
When winter comes there's naught to eat
Except the roots and nuts so sweet,
Which you must gather in the fall.
So frisk away and store them all."

The squirrels, large and small, went to work. They found holes in the
trees and old logs in which to hide their winter provisions, and they
scampered away to find their favorite food.

All except little Silver. He said to himself: "Humph! I don't believe
winter is coming so very soon, and besides, I'd rather just play, and
eat the nuts, than work as these other squirrels are doing."

So he played as he had all summer long, and he kept so warm frisking
about in the sunshine that he did not realize how short and cold the
days were growing.

At last winter really came. Oh! how cold it was then. Silver said:
"Perhaps I had better begin gathering some nuts for winter." But very
few nuts could he find, not nearly enough to store away. The other
squirrels, and the people who lived near the woods, had been working
while he was playing, and had gathered in the harvest.

Poor little Silver did not know what to do. Winter was here and he had
no provisions. He went to all the other squirrels and begged for some of
their nuts. They only said: "You were playing while we were working, now
you must work while we rest and eat."

Then Silver was sorry he had not obeyed the wise old squirrels and he
told himself that, next year, he would surely begin early to prepare for
winter. But there might not have been a "next year" for Silver, if a
little boy had not found him in the woods and taken him home to keep and
feed until the spring-time.

* * * * *

Johnnie Jones and the Peach Preserves

Everyone knows that people prepare for winter during the summer and
fall. (Bees and squirrels and caterpillars do, too.) Almost everybody
lays in the coal and kindling wood for the winter fires while the
weather is still warm, and buys warm clothing before it is time to
wear it.

In the summer, farmers cut the long grass, and after it has been dried
by the sun, store it in the barns for the cows and horses to eat in the
winter. In the summer and the autumn, people do not eat all the berries,
and grapes, and pears and peaches; some they make into preserves and
jelly for the winter.

Mrs. Jones could make delicious preserves. She enjoyed making it and
Johnnie Jones liked to help her. He could really help a great deal
because he was a careful little boy. Every member of the Jones family
liked peach preserves better than any other kind, therefore Mother
usually made enough of it to fill many jars. This year, however, she had
been so busy that she did not start her preserving very early, and when
she was ready to begin, she found it was too late to buy many good
peaches. She bought a few, though, and preserved them with Johnnie
Jones's help.

When the preserves was made. Mother had enough to fill four glass jars.
"Not very much," she told Johnnie Jones, "but there is one jar for
Father, one for you and one for me, and then one more for company." She
left the jars on the kitchen table while she went upstairs to change her
dress.

Johnnie Jones ran out into the yard to play. He saw Sammy Smith,
Elizabeth, and Ned across the street, and called them. "I want to show
you something," he said.

When they came, he led them to the kitchen and showed them the
preserves.

"I should like to have some of it," said Ned,--"may I?"

"We made it to use in the winter," Johnnie Jones explained, "when there
isn't any fresh fruit."

"I'd like some now on a piece of bread." Ned insisted.

"You said one jar of preserves was yours; give us each a taste," begged
Sammy Smith.

"I don't think Mother meant that I might eat it whenever I wanted it,"
Johnnie Jones answered. "But perhaps she wouldn't care if we should each
take a taste," he added.

Now Johnnie Jones knew he was not allowed to eat between meals, but the
preserves did have an attractive appearance, and he thought that just
one taste would not matter.

The top of the jar had not yet been sealed, so it came off very easily.
Johnnie Jones gave a piece of bread, with a very little of the
preserves, to each child, and took some for himself.

"It is good!" Ned exclaimed. "Give us some more, Johnnie Jones, your
mother won't care."

Johnnie Jones was afraid Mother would care, but he liked the preserves
very much, and besides, he enjoyed giving it to the children, so he gave
them each a little more and again took some for himself. It was curious
that the more they had the more they wanted, and after each one had been
given "just a little more," several times, the large jar was nearly
empty.

"We may as well finish it," said Ned, So they did. Then the children
went home and left Johnnie Jones alone in the kitchen with the empty
jar.

Johnnie Jones was unable to eat his supper that evening. Mother asked
him what was the matter, and he told her. She was very sorry.

"Oh! little son," she said, "all your life I have been able to trust
you, and I did not think you would touch the preserves, when I left the
jars on the table. Say you are sorry, dear, and that such a thing shall
never happen again. For wouldn't it be dreadful if I should be obliged
to lock up everything I can't let you have?"

Johnnie Jones was very sorry indeed, but he answered: "You said that one
jar was mine."

"So I did," Mother answered; "but I had no idea that you would want to
use it all at one time, or between meals, or before the winter-time.
Since you have had all your share to-day, you will, of course, expect no
more next winter, when Father and I have ours."

Just then, Johnnie Jones thought he would never wish for peach preserves
again, for he had eaten too much and felt uncomfortable; but probably he
changed his mind in the winter, and regretted that his share was all
gone.

Sammy Smith, Elizabeth and Ned came to see Mrs. Jones next day, told her
they were sorry they had begged for the preserves, and asked her to
excuse them, which of course she did.

Mother was glad to find that it would be unnecessary to lock up
forbidden things after all, for Johnnie Jones liked to have her trust
him, and showed her that she could.

* * * * *

How the Children Helped Tom and Sarah

Most of the houses on Park street, where the Jones family lived, were
large and pretty, but there was one house that was very small and ugly.
It had been unoccupied for a long time, when one day, Sarah and Tom
Watson, with their father and mother, moved in. The little brother and
sister were such agreeable children, that they were soon known and loved
by all their small neighbors.

One morning, when Johnnie Jones was passing the ugly little house, he
saw Sarah and Tom standing at the gate with an unhappy expression on
their faces, usually so bright. Johnnie Jones stopped and asked them
what was the trouble.

"We don't know what to do," answered Tom. "A friend of Father's promised
to send him a load of coal to-day. It may come any minute and Father
is too busy to put it into the coal-house. Mother can't attend to it
because she must finish some sewing for a lady, so there is no one but
Sarah and me. We are afraid we can't put it all away before night, and
if it isn't locked up in the coal-house this evening, something may
happen to it while we are asleep, and then we shouldn't have any coal
to keep us warm in the winter."

"Why don't you hire a man to put it away for you?" asked Johnnie Jones.

"We haven't money enough," Tom answered.

"I'd better go home and ask my mother what to do. She'll know," said
Johnnie Jones.

"Well," Mother said, when she had heard of the children's difficulty,
"Sarah and Tom need friends to help them, so why don't you, in your
overalls, and Ned, Susie, and the other children in theirs, take your
wagons and wheelbarrows, and spend the afternoon helping with the coal?
A dozen pairs of hands, even if they are small, can accomplish a great
deal of work."

Mother sent her hired man to see that the coal-house was ready for the
coal, while Johnnie Jones hurried off to collect the children.

The boys and girls dressed in their overalls hastened to the small brown
house. There they found Sarah and Tom as busy as bees, and very happy to
welcome the children gathered to help them. Such a merry time as they
had! Some of the children played that they were strong horses, and drew
the wagons, which the others loaded at the gate and unloaded at the
coal-house door. Very soon the play drivers looked like real drivers
of coal-carts for they were covered with coal-soot from their heads to
their feet. All of the children, too, worked quite as hard as any real
horses, or any real men, and after a while, before dark, the load of
coal was safe in the coal-house. Then the children ran home for a
much-needed bath.

Meantime Mrs. Watson had been sewing all the day long, and in the
evening, when it was time to go home, she felt very tired. All day she
had worried about the coal, wondering how she could attend to it that
night. She knew that her children would try to help, but she did not
expect very much from them because their hands were so small. As she
walked home she thought, and thought, trying to decide what was best
to do.

At last she came near the ugly little house, and then she was greatly
surprised, for Sarah and Tom, neat and clean, were swinging on the gate,
the pavement was nicely swept, and there was no sign of any coal.

[Illustration: Such a merry time as the children had!]

"Didn't the coal come?" she asked the children.

"Yes," they answered joyfully, "and it is in the coal-house."

She could scarcely believe them, but they said: "Come and see."

When she saw that the coal was really there, locked away for the winter
in the shed, she was almost too surprised and pleased to speak.

At last she asked the delighted children whether the fairies had come to
their aid. "No," they answered, "but all the children in the
neighborhood did, and we had such a good time that it was almost the
same as giving a party."

"The children were very kind," Mrs. Watson said, when she had heard all
about the happy afternoon. "We could not have managed the coal without
their assistance, and some day we must try to help them."

* * * * *

Johnnie Jones's Story of the Stars

The stars were just beginning to show themselves in the dark blue sky,
when Mother and Johnnie Jones sat down by the window to watch for
Father. Mother and Johnnie Jones loved the stars. Almost every evening
they sat and looked up at them. Sometimes they tried to count them, but
they never could, because there were so very many. Often, too, they
could see the bright, round moon. Johnnie Jones said that a queer, fat
little man lived in the moon, who winked and bowed whenever little boys
looked at him. To be polite, Johnnie Jones always returned the winks and
bows. But this night there was no moon, just the little stars were
appearing, and twinkling as fast as they could.

"Mother," said Johnnie Jones, "I'll tell you a story all my own, about
the shining stars."

"I'd like very much to hear it," Mother answered.

"Once upon a time, oh! such a very long time ago that it must have been
before you were born, Mother dear, all the stars fell down from the sky.
I think it was the wind that blew and blew until they became loose. They
fell down whirling and twirling just like the snow flakes, except that
they weren't cold and white, but all bright and shining. They were so
beautiful that the people looked out of their windows and wished the
stars would never stop raining down from the sky."

"Is that all the story?" asked Mother, much interested.

"No, there is another part," said Johnnie Jones. "When all the stars had
fallen down to the ground, what do you suppose they really were?"

"I can't imagine," Mother answered.

"Why, Mother, they were beautiful little flowers all different colors.
Some were red, some were yellow, and some were purple violets. They
began to grow, and nobody gathered any, for they were so pretty there on
the ground."

"But," asked Mother, "when it was night time again, what did the poor
people do without any stars to shine in the sky?"

"Don't you see," Johnnie Jones explained, "when the stars fell down they
left little holes in the sky, and the light behind shone through and
seemed just like the stars."

"I think that is a beautiful story," and Mother thanked him with a kiss,
before they ran down-stairs to meet Father coming home.

* * * * *

Johnnie Jones and Jack

One day, when Johnnie Jones was playing in his front yard, he heard the
yelping of a dog. He ran to the gate, and saw, lying in the street, a
poor little puppy which had been hurt by a wagon, or perhaps, an
automobile.

"You may come home with me, you poor little thing," Johnnie Jones told
the dog. "My mother will rub salve on you and make you well. Come on."

But the poor little puppy couldn't walk. Johnnie Jones picked him up,
and attempted to carry him to the house. The puppy was so heavy,
however, that Johnnie Jones was obliged to put him down and take him up
again, three times, before he reached the side door. He called to Mother
to come down.

"But, little son," she said, "we can't keep a strange dog. We shall have
to let him run away."

"Oh, Mother, he's hurt, and I am sure he's hungry, so don't you think we
shall have to keep him?"

Of course, as soon as Mother understood that the puppy was hurt, she
knew that it would be necessary to keep him, at least until he was well
again. She examined the little fellow and found that he was not badly
injured, but was merely bruised and frightened. She and Johnnie Jones
bathed and bandaged the poor little body, and when the puppy seemed to
feel more comfortable, gave him a bowl of milk. He could not say "Thank
you," but he wagged his tail, and kissed their hands, which meant "Thank
you," so they agreed that he was a polite little dog,

"But where shall we keep him?" asked Mother. "I can't allow him in the
house, he would gnaw the legs of the chairs and tables; all puppies do
when they are cutting their teeth."

"Perhaps Father and I can build a doghouse," Johnnie Jones answered, and
when Father came home they talked it over.

"Well," Father decided, "If the grocery man will give us a large box, we
can line it, fill it with straw, and I'll cut a door in one end. That
should make an excellent house for Mr. Doggie."

Johnnie Jones ran to the grocery-store as fast as he could run, and
asked the grocery man to send down a large box. As soon as it came,
Father cut the door, Johnnie Jones arranged the straw, and there was the
house all ready for the dog.

Johnnie Jones named him Jack. Jack soon became well and strong, and
because he was such a good dog, and because his owner could not be
found, he was allowed to remain at Johnnie Jones's house. He wasn't a
puppy very long. He grew and grew, until he was too large for his box,
and had to sleep in the front hall of the Jones's house. He and Johnnie
Jones loved each other dearly, and were almost always together. Mother
used to say that they reminded her of Mary and her lamb, except that
Jack was as black as coal.

You remember how Mary's lamb followed her to school one day, which was
against the rule? Well, it was necessary to keep Jack in the closet
every morning, until after Johnnie Jones had gone to kindergarten,
because he always wanted to go with him. One morning the door was not
fastened securely, and Jack was able to push it open. Then, before any
one saw him, he ran out the gate, and followed Johnnie Jones. The little
boy did not see him and did not know that Jack was just behind him as he
entered the kindergarten room, until the children began to laugh and he
turned around to see what was the matter. There stood Jack, wagging his
tail with all his might.

The children begged Miss Page, the teacher, to let Jack spend the
morning in kindergarten, and she said that she would try him. She was
afraid, however, that he would not know how to behave. Johnnie Jones was
a trifle late that morning, and the children were all ready to march to
the circle. Jack followed his master as he marched to his place, and
then sat down on the floor beside the little boy's chair.

Miss Page asked the children which one of them would like to stand in
the centre of the circle and shake hands with the others, in turn, as
they sang the good-morning song.

"Let Jack," said Johnnie Jones, "he can shake hands as well as anybody,
and he is a visitor to-day."

Miss Page consented, and Johnnie Jones called Jack to the circle and
offered him his hand. Jack at once gave him his paw. One by one the
children came and shook Jack's paw. Everyone considered it great fun,
and Jack enjoyed it also, though he could not laugh as the children did.

[Illustration: Each child came up and shook Jack's paw--]

As soon as all the good-mornings had been sung, Miss Page started a
game of ball. Now there was nothing that Jack liked better than playing
with a ball, so he ran out on the circle barking, and jumped up on
the boy who had the ball in his hand. The boy became frightened, not
understanding what Jack wanted, and let the ball fall and roll away.
Jack rushed after it, knocking down chairs and tables, spilling the
blocks out of their boxes, and tearing paper chains to bits. At last he
caught the ball in his mouth, brought it to Johnnie Jones, and began to
jump and bark, begging the little boy to throw it.

Miss Page said that she was sorry, but Jack would have to go home.
"He is a very good dog," she said, "but he does not behave well in
kindergarten."

At that moment Sam, the hired man, came into the room. Mrs. Jones had
missed Jack and sent Sam to find him. Jack was having a pleasant time
and did not want to go home, but he knew how to obey, and, when Johnnie
Jones commanded him to "go home," he turned slowly and walked out of
the room.

So you see, Jack was turned out by the teacher, just as was Mary's lamb.

One bright day, when the ground was covered with snow, Father took
Johnnie Jones for a ride on his sled. They had been around the block
only twice when the clock struck two, and then it was time for Father
to go to his office.

"Oh! dear," said Johnnie Jones, "now I'll have no one to pull my sled.
I wish Jack could."

"Perhaps he can," Father answered. "When I come home to-night I'll make
some sort of a harness for him, and then to-morrow we shall see what he
can do."

That evening, with rope, straps, and Johnnie Jones's reins Father made
a very good harness, and the next day he hitched Jack to the sled. At
first Jack could not imagine what Father and Johnnie Jones wished him to
do. He allowed himself to be hitched to the sled, but every time Johnnie
Jones sat upon it, and said "Get up," Jack would jump about, and off
would roll Johnnie Jones into the snow. Then Jack would bark as much
as to say, "What are you trying to do, anyway?"

At last, after many trials, Father managed to hold Jack quiet until
Johnnie Jones was seated firmly on the sled, clasping a side with each
hand. Then Father, still keeping a tight hold of Jack, ran with him to
the corner and back several times. At last Jack began to understand what
was expected of him. The next day they tried again, and it was not long
before Johnnie Jones could drive the big dog without Father's help.
After a while Jack would even pull Johnnie Jones's sled to kindergarten
each morning, and then draw the empty sled home, after Johnnie Jones had
gone into the house. He certainly was a clever dog. It was no wonder
Johnnie Jones loved him.

In the winter-time there was an excellent place for coasting in the park
very near Johnnie Jones's house. There was a long, straight hill, and
at the foot of it a long, straight pond, so that, with a good start, a
child could coast from the top of the hill to the end of the pond. That
is, of course, when there was snow and the pond was frozen over at the
same time.

One afternoon Johnnie Jones started out with his sled and Jack ran along
beside him.

"Don't try to coast across the pond to-day," called Father. "When I was
passing I noticed that the ice was broken in several places."

"Then I'll coast on the other side of the hill," Johnnie Jones answered.

When he reached the park, however, he found two of the children coasting
across the pond as usual. One of them, whose name was Ned, asked Johnnie
Jones: "What's the matter with everybody to-day? Where are the other
children?"

"I suppose their fathers wouldn't let them come," answered Johnnie
Jones; "and you shouldn't coast across the pond. My father just told me
that it isn't safe, because the ice is beginning to break."

"Oh! it is perfectly safe," Ned replied, "because we have been over it
several times. The coasting is better fun to-day than ever before, and
there are no children to block the way. Come and try it."

"I wish I might," Johnnie Jones answered. He sat on his sled and watched
the older boys coast safely across, and run gaily back, waving their
hands to him.

"Perhaps my father was mistaken." he said after a while. "I think I'll
try it just once."

"There is one tolerably large hole," Ned warned him, "but it is on one
side, and if you are careful you won't fall in."

"I'll be careful," answered Johnnie Jones; "you sit here and watch me."

He placed himself flat on his sled, and Ned gave him a push. Johnnie
Jones was not quite five years old then, two years younger than Ned, and
he could not guide his sled very well. When it went near the big hole,
he could not turn it away. Then splash! Both Johnnie Jones and the sled
plunged into the icy cold water.

The water was not very deep, but as Johnnie Jones struck it head
foremost, and as the sled was on top of him, he might have found some
trouble in forcing his way out, had it not been for Jack. That faithful
friend was close beside his little master, and in just a few seconds had
drawn him out of the water.

As soon as Ned and Sammy Smith saw what had happened, they hurried to
the house and told Mr. Jones. He ran all the way to the pond, picked up
the little wet, cold boy, and carried him home as quickly as possible.

Jack was wet and cold too, but he ran around so fast that he soon grew
warm, then he crawled under the kitchen stove, where he stopped until he
was dry. But Johnnie Jones had to go to bed, for several days, with a
very bad cold.

He was sorry he had been disobedient, and asked Father please to excuse
him that time. Father said he would not punish him, but that he was
sorry to think his little boy did not trust his father.

"I do, Father," Johnnie Jones answered, "and after this I'll obey you,
instead of minding little boys."

"Grown people generally know best," Father said.

After that, of course, Mother, Father and Johnnie Jones loved good old
Jack more than ever, and were glad they had kept him when he first came
to them a puppy, hurt and hungry.

* * * * *

Stiggins

Johnnie Jones's Aunt Jean owned a dog. His name was Stiggins, just
Stiggins, for dogs need only one name, instead of the two or three that
people have. Aunt Jean was accustomed to go to Lake Chautauqua every
summer, far away from home. Stiggins liked to go with her, and was
always afraid that he might be left behind, as had happened, once or
twice. So, as soon as he saw Aunt Jean begin to make her preparations,
he would spend all his time either following her about, or lying on her
trunk.

Each time she started to pack she would first have to drive Stiggins
into the yard. If she turned away, just for a few minutes, there he
would be again, lying in a tray upon her best dresses, or her prettiest
hats. Aunt Jean would scold and scold, but scolding was of no use.

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