The Clockwork Twin (6 page)

Uncle Ben didn't say anything, but he watched them, and by and by he got up and started some of the clocks striking so they could see how they worked. And when the clocks chimed or cuckooed or the little figures popped out and in again, he would wink at Freddy and pull Jinx's tail. So they knew he liked to have them there.

But after he had gone back to his work and they had watched him awhile, he took the clock he had been working on and wound it up and set it in the middle of the floor. Then he said: “Clear out now, animals. Danger.”

So they went downstairs again.

“He told us to beat it,” Jinx said to Hank. “I thought you said he never did that?”

Hank had finished his hay and was taking a nap until Mr. Bean should come out to give him some more. His eyes were closed, but he opened them very quickly.

“Eh?” he said. “What? Ordered you out, did he? Thunder! I suppose he's going to shoot that thing off again. I do wish he wouldn't. Goodness knows I don't think I'm asking too much—just a little peace and quiet to—”

Bang!
There was a loud explosion upstairs. Jinx gave a screech and leaped three feet in the air and Freddy tried to dive under the old phaeton that stood on the barn floor, but missed his aim and got his head stuck between two spokes of a front wheel. There was a patter and jingle of little pieces of metal falling to the floor upstairs, and a small brass clock-wheel bounced down the stairs.

“There, thank goodness,” said Hank, swishing his tail nervously, “it's over for today. Until he gets a new one built tomorrow.”

“Hey, what is all this?” asked Freddy. “Get me out of this, will you?” He jerked and shook at the wheel, but his head was stuck fast.

Hank backed out of his stall and walked over and looked at the pig, and Jinx joined him.

“We've got him where we want him now, eh, Hank?” said the cat.

“Looks like he was going to stay there for a spell, anyway,” said Hank.

“Oh, quit being funny!” said Freddy angrily. “Can't you
do
something? Catch hold of me and pull.”

“We could if you weren't so fat,” said Hank, “but there ain't anything for anybody to get hold of. There's your tail, of course, but I dunno. It ain't much of a tail, and if I was to give a good yank on it, I wouldn't say but it'd come off. Try it if you say so, though.”

“No, no!” said the pig anxiously.

“I've got it,” said Hank suddenly. He turned with his back to the wheel, lifted one of his iron-shod hind hoofs, glanced over his shoulder to aim, and then kicked hard against the rim. The wheel flew off of the wagon with a crack and it and the pig slid across the floor.

Freddy struggled to his feet with the wheel still around his neck. “Now you have done it!” he said crossly. “I'll never get it off now. There's nothing to push against.”

“Well, I shouldn't mind,” said Jinx with a grin. “Looks kind of nice that way. You look kind of like Queen Elizabeth, with a big ruff around her neck. Eh, Hank?”

“Maybe his head would slip through if you was to soap it,” said the horse.

“That's an idea!” said Jinx. He dashed out of the barn and was back presently with a piece of soap. “Come over to the watering trough, Freddy. I couldn't get kitchen soap; Mrs. Bean was there. So I snuck upstairs and got some of her best soap out of the bathroom. It's perfumed, I guess. Do you mind?”

“I don't care
what
it is,” said Freddy. “Get me out of this thing.”

So Jinx went to work and shampooed the pig thoroughly. Freddy squealed and twisted, for a good deal of the soap got in his eyes and mouth. But when Jinx said: “O.K. Now pull,” his head slipped out easily.

Freddy didn't dare open his eyes, so his friends led him down to the duck pond. Alice and Emma, the two ducks, who were swimming about like two white powder puffs in their little pond, began to quack nervously when they saw this strange animal with the body of a pig and a shapeless white head of soapsuds.

“It's all right, girls,” shouted Jinx. “It's only the great detective in disguise.”

“Good gracious!” said Alice. “How clever! I should never have known him.”

“Nor should I, sister,” said Emma. “Mercy, you'd never guess he was a pig. And he smells so nice. But what is he disguised as, Jinx?”

“A marshmallow,” said the cat. “Put him in a candy box and tie him up with a pink ribbon, and you'd never know the difference.”

“I guess you could tell when you bit into him,” said Hank.

“Oh, come on, come
on!”
said Freddy angrily. “Get me into the water.”

“You asked for it,” said Jinx, and he led the pig to the edge and shoved him in.

You hardly ever find a pig who is an expert swimmer, but then you hardly ever find one who is a good detective. Freddy was both. He swam across the pond with a fine racing stroke, then came back under water and stuck his head up between the two ducks, scaring them good. Then he climbed out and chased Jinx, who hated to get wet, twice around the pond and up a tree. And then he sat down and laughed good-naturedly.

“Come on down, Jinx,” he said. “I won't shake water on you. I'm really much obliged to you. And I want to find out about that explosion.”

So Jinx came down and they all three sat down on the bank, and Hank said:

“Well, you see Uncle Ben has invented a new kind of alarm clock. He says that the kind with bells aren't much good, because people get used to the bells after a while and don't wake up when they ring. I dunno. What folks want alarm clocks for anyway beats me. What's the use of getting up unless you have to?”

“Well, but they do have to get up,” said Freddy. “That's why they set the alarms.”

“So Uncle Ben says. But I never could see why.… Well, anyway, he's invented a clock that fires off a firecracker. That ought to get 'em up, he thinks. But the trouble is, when the firecracker goes off, it blows the clock all to pieces. So it isn't any good now except for rich folks who can afford to have a new clock every morning.”

“Yes,” said Freddy thoughtfully. “Yes. But there ought to be some way of getting round it.”

“What do you want to get round, Freddy?” said a deep voice, and they turned to see Mrs. Wiggins standing behind them. “My goodness,” the cow went on, “first it's detecting and then it's pockets for animals. All this thinking! I don't believe it's healthy. What is it now?”

So Freddy explained.

“Well, good grief!” said Mrs. Wiggins, “if the firecracker blows the clock to pieces, don't put the firecracker in. That's just common sense.”

“Yes,” said Freddy, “but it's
part
of the clock. You have to put it in, or you haven't got an alarm clock that shoots off a firecracker.”

Mrs. Wiggins looked puzzled. “You've got your argument wrong end to, Freddy. It's when you put it
in
that you haven't got the clock. My stars, if I want to shoot off a firecracker, I don't swallow it first! Not if I ever want to shoot another.”

“Now don't
you
start shooting firecrackers,” said Hank. “One around the place is enough.—Hey, Freddy, what's the matter?” For the pig, who had been looking thoughtfully at Mrs. Wiggins, suddenly leaped up, shouted: “I've got it!” and dashed off toward the barn.

The others looked after him. “I expect he's got another idea,” said the cow placidly.

“I dunno where he gets 'em all,” said Hank. “In fact, I dunno as I know what an idea is. I never had any myself, I'm thankful to say. They look kind of unpleasant to me—make you run around and yell. Folks are better without them.”

But Freddy's idea carried him up the barn stairs two at a time. On the stool in front of the work-bench was Uncle Ben, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. Freddy could not see his expression because of the whiskers, but his eyes were shut and his forehead drawn together in a deep frown, denoting thought.

Freddy hesitated a minute, but Uncle Ben did not open his eyes, and the pig tiptoed over to the end of the bench on which lay the plan of the alarm clock that Uncle Ben had been working from. It was a perfectly clear plan. There was the outline of the clock and pictures of all the little wheels, and the wheel that went around when the alarm went off and struck a match that lighted the firecracker fuse. There was the firecracker, too, and Freddy could see where Uncle Ben had erased it several times in order to put it in another place.

So Freddy picked up a pencil and erased the firecracker again, and then he drew a big firecracker
outside
the clock and drew a long fuse leading in to where the match was. Then he took the plan over to Uncle Ben and nudged him. And Uncle Ben opened his eyes.

Uncle Ben was a smart man all right. As soon as he saw the changes that Freddy had made in the plan, he realized that if he had the firecracker go off outside, the clock wouldn't be blown to pieces. He jumped up and grabbed Freddy and waltzed all around the loft with him and then he got his tools and went to work. He didn't say anything at all, but it is surprising how little you have to say to let people know you are pleased.

After a while Freddy went downstairs again. Going through the barnyard he passed Mrs. Wiggins. The cow lifted her big nose and sniffed appreciatively. “H'm,” she said. “Roses!” And passed on.

Freddy looked after her suspiciously, then started for the pigpen. A group of chickens were standing by the corner of the barn. When they saw him they began to whisper and giggle and then started toward him. He tried not to notice them as they, too, began sniffling the air ostentatiously, but when one of them simpered: “Oh, how too, too delicious! Like a breath of Spring!” he turned and chased them, fluttering and squawking, back to the henhouse.

Then he sniffed himself. Undeniably there was still a faint odor of perfumed soap clinging to him. But he decided it wasn't worth the bother of taking another swim to try to get it off. Whether he smelt of it or not, he knew that it would be weeks before the joke would completely lose its savor for his friends. He shrugged his shoulders and went on.

V
The Clockwork Boy

Mr. and Mrs. Bean had been pretty lonesome after Ella and Everett, their adopted children, had gone away. But after Adoniram came they weren't lonesome anymore. Mrs. Bean was happy because she had someone else to make pies for, and someone to talk to when Mr. Bean was out working or when he went to sleep after supper. And Mr. Bean was happy because Mrs. Bean was happy. Mrs. Bean went around singing a good deal. She sang different words, but it was always the same tune—if it is really a tune when it is all on the same note. But that doesn't mean that she wasn't just as happy as if she had had a fine soprano voice and had gone around singing grand opera.

“It's funny,” said Mrs. Wiggins to her sisters, “but I kind of like to hear Mrs. Bean sing.”

“I guess it doesn't matter what a noise sounds like,” said Mrs. Wogus, “as long as you know that it means something nice.” Mrs. Wogus was inclined to be philosophical. That is, she liked talking without thinking much what she was talking about. But sometimes she said pretty wise things.

Adoniram was happy too. He had lots of good things to eat, and a whole big farm to play on, and all kinds of animals to play with. He liked the Beans a lot, although he was a little afraid of Mr. Bean at first, until he found out that his gruffness was all on the outside, like the shell on a peanut. The laughing exercises had been stopped, for he could now laugh at a joke like anybody else. But Freddy was not entirely satisfied. “You can smile and grin and giggle and chuckle all right. And you can laugh in a gentlemanly sort of way, too. But boys hadn't ought to laugh in a gentlemanly way when things tickle them. They ought to open their mouths and yell ‘Ha ha!' good and loud. Like Mrs. Wiggins. I think you ought to study her laugh. Remember: he whose laugh lasts, laughs best. And there's another thing to remember. You're not a really good laugher until you know when to stop. If you laugh too long, it sounds foolish. Some laughers make it a rule to stop after the fourth or fifth ‘Ha.' That doesn't work very well for me, because sometimes I want to stop sooner, and other times I can't stop so soon. I think the best rule is to laugh good and loud and then stop as soon as you can.”