قراءة كتاب A Book for Kids
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means that she is going; and the little dog is going, and I shall
be all alone."
"Well," answered the Blue-gum rather stiffly, "you still have ME for
company."
"I know," sighed the Little Red House. "Don't think I'm ungrateful.
But, when they both go away, I shan't be really and truly a home again
until they come back--just an empty house; and it makes me miserable.
How would YOU like to be an empty house?"
"Some day I might be," replied the Blue-gum, "if I don't grow too old.
There is some fine timber in me yet."
Suddenly there was a great clattering and stamping inside the Little
House, and Sym began to sing his Tinker's song.
"Kettles and pans! Kettles and pans!
All the broad earth is the tinkering man's--
The green leafy lane or the fields are his home,
The road or the river, where'er he way roam.
He roves for a living and rests where he can.
Then bring out your kettle! ho! kettle or pan!"
There's a nice thing for you!" said the Little Red House bitterly.
"What kind of a song do you call that? Any old place is good enough
for his home, and I am just nothing!"
"Oh, that's only his way of putting it," answered the Blue-gum kindly.
"He doesn't really mean it, you know; he wants a change, that's all."
But the Little Red House wouldn't say a word.
"It looks a good deal like rain this morning, doesn't it?" said the
Blue-gum cheerfully, trying to change the subject.
But the Little Red House wouldn't say a word.
Very soon Sym and Emily Ann, carrying bundles, came out of the Little
Red House, laughing and talking; and Sym locked the door.
"Now for a jolly trip!" shouted Sym, as he picked up his firepot and
soldering-irons.
But all at once Emily Ann ceased laughing and looked back wistfully
at the Little Red House.
"After all I'm sorry to leave our little home," she said. "See how
sad it looks!"
"Hurry on!" cried Sym, who was all eagerness for the trip. Then he,
too, looked back. "Why, you forgot to draw down the blinds," he said.
"No, I didn't forget," answered Emily Ann, "but I think it a shame to
blindfold the Little Red House while we are away. I just left the
blinds up so that he could see things. Good-bye, little home," she
called. And the Little Red House felt just the least bit comforted to
think that Emily Ann was sorry to leave him. Then she went off down
the winding path with Sym; and Sym began to shout his Tinker's Song
again.
The Little Red House watched them go down the mountain.
Away they went: through the gate, past the black stump, round by the
bracken patch and over the bridge, across the potato paddock, through
the sliprails--getting smaller and smaller--past the sign-post, down
by the big rocks--getting smaller and smaller--under the tree-ferns,
out on to the stony flat, across the red road, until they were just
two tiny specks away down in the valley. Then they went through a
white gate, round a turn, and the high scrub hid them.
Had you been able to see the Little Red House just at that moment, you
would have been sure he was going to cry--he looked so miserable and
so lonely.
But the Little Red House couldn't say a word.
Presently the big Blue-gum groaned loudly.
"Oo! Ah! Ah! Golly!" groaned the Blue-gum in a strange voice.
"I beg your pardon? said the Little Red House.
"Oh, I have a nasty sharp pain in my side," said the Blue-gum. "I do
hope and trust it isn't white-ants. It would be simply horrible, if
it were. Fancy getting white-ants at my time of life! Here I have
lived on this mountain, tree and sapling, for over a hundred years;
and to think those nasty, white, flabby little things should get me
at last is horrible--horrible!"
"I am sorry," said the Little Red House. "I'm afraid I've been very
selfish, too. I was forgetting that everyone has troubles of his own;
but I hope it isn't so bad as you fear."
"It is bad enough," groaned the Blue-gum. "Ow! There it is again. I'm
afraid it IS white-ants. I can feel the wretched little things nipping."
But the Little Red House hardly heard him. He was thinking again of
his own troubles.
So they stood all through that day, saying very little to each other.
Rabbits came and played about the Little Red House, and lizards ran
over his door-step, and once a big wallaby went flopping right past
the front gate. But the Little Red House paid no attention. He was
too busy thinking of his loneliness.
Birds came and perched in the branches of the big Blue-gum, and
chattered and sang to him, trying to tell him the news of other trees
on distant mountains. But the big Blue-gum took no notice. He was too
busy thinking about white-ants.
So the sun sank low behind the Little House, and the shadow of the
tall Blue-gum began to creep down the mountain and get longer and
longer.
Just as it was growing dark, the big Blue-gum said Suddenly, "It
certainly looks more like rain than ever. The heavy clouds have been
gathering all day, and we shall get it properly to-night."
But the rain did not come that night, nor the next day, nor for two
days and nights. And all this while the Little Red House and the Big
Blue-gum remained silent and miserable--one through loneliness, the
other through white-ants.
But on the evening of the third day the big Blue-gum said, "The rain
will come to-night for certain. I know by the feel of the air."
"Let it come!" said the Little Red House. "I don't care. I couldn't
be more miserable than I am."
Just as he said that, one great rain-drop fell right on the middle
of his roof--Plop!
"It's coming already," cried the Blue-gum, "and it's going to pour."
Then three more big drops fell--Plop! Plop! Plop!
"I have never in my life seen such big rain-drops," said the Blue-gum.
"I've lived on this mountain, tree and sapling, for--"
But--Crash! came rain before he could finish; and in two seconds
everything was sopping wet. The noise of it was deafening,
"Why, it's a cloud-burst!" shouted the Blue-gum. "Half of my leaves
have been stripped off already." Then he peered through the rain and
the dark to see how the Little Red House was taking it. "Why, what's
the matter with your face?" he cried. "You look awful."
"I'm crying!" sobbed the Little Red House. "That's all--just crying.
"Can't you see the tears?"
rain-water running off your window-sills."
"I tell you I'm crying!" wailed the Little Red House. "I'm crying
bitterly. I should know, shouldn't I? I'm shivering and crying
because I'm cold and lonely and miserable."
"Oh, very well," agreed the Blue-gum. "You are crying. But if this
rain doesn't stop soon, you'll cry the front path away. It certainly
is wet."
Very late that night the rain eased a little and then stopped
altogether. The tears ceased to run from the eyes of the Little
Red House, and they now came only in drops, slower and slower, falling
into the great pool by the front door.
"It's a hard world!" sobbed the Little Red House, squeezing out
another tear.
"Listen!" cried the Big Blue-gum. "Do you hear THAT?"
From far away on the distant ranges came a dull, moaning sound. As
they listened it grew
