The Louisa Alcott Reader by Louisa M. Alcott

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"I can't stop!" cried Kitty; and she did not till the shoes took her
straight into the office.

"What's the hurry to-day?" asked the man, as he saw her without any hat,
all rosy and breathless, and her face puckered up as if she did not know
whether to laugh or to cry.

"I won't tell any one about these dreadful shoes, and I'll take them off
as soon as I get home. I hope they will go back slowly, or people will
think I'm crazy," said Kitty to herself, as she took the letters and went
away.

The shoes walked nicely along till she came to the bridge; and there she
wanted to stop and watch some boys in a boat, forgetting school and her
father's letters. But the shoes wouldn't stop, though she tried to make
them, and held on to the railing as hard as she could. Her feet went on;
and when she sat down they still dragged her along so steadily that she
had to go, and she got up feeling that there was something very strange
about these shoes. The minute she gave up, all went smoothly, and she got
home in good time.

"I won't wear these horrid things another minute," said Kitty, sitting on
the doorstep and trying to unbutton the shoes.

But not a button could she stir, though she got red and angry struggling
to do it.

"Time for school; run away, little girl," called mamma from upstairs, as
the clock struck nine.

"I won't!" said Kitty, crossly.

But she did; for those magic shoes danced her off, and landed her at her
desk in five minutes.

"Well, I'm not late; that's one comfort," she thought, wishing she had
come pleasantly, and not been whisked away without any luncheon.

Her legs were so tired with the long skips that she was glad to sit still;
and that pleased the teacher, for generally she was fussing about all
lesson time. But at recess she got into trouble again; for one of the
children knocked down the house of corn-cobs she had built, and made her
angry.

"Now, I'll kick yours down, and see how you like it, Dolly."

Up went her foot, but it didn't come down; it stayed in the air, and there
she stood looking as if she were going to dance. The children laughed to
see her, and she could do nothing till she said to Dolly in a great
hurry,--

"Never mind; if you didn't mean to, I'll forgive you."

Then the foot went down, and Kitty felt so glad about it that she tried to
be pleasant, fearing some new caper of those dreadful shoes. She began to
see how they worked, and thought she would try if she had any power over
them. So, when one of the children wanted his ball, which had bounced over
the hedge, she said kindly,--"Perhaps I can get it for you, Willy."

And over she jumped as lightly as if she too were an india-rubber ball.

"How could you do it?" cried the boys, much surprised; for not one of them
dared try such a high leap.

Kitty laughed, and began to dance, feeling pleased and proud to find there
was a good side to the shoes after all. Such twirlings and skippings as
she made, such pretty steps and airy little bounds it was pretty to see;
for it seemed as if her feet were bewitched, and went of themselves. The
little girls were charmed, and tried to imitate her, but no one could, and
they stood in a circle watching her dance till the bell rang, then all
rushed in to tell about it.

Kitty said it was her new shoes, and never told how queerly they acted,
hoping to have good times now. But she was mistaken.

On the way home she wanted to stop and see her friend Bell's new doll, but
at the gate her feet stuck fast, and she had to give up her wishes and go
straight on, as mamma had told her always to do.

"Run and pick a nice little dish of strawberries for dinner," said her
sister, as she went in.

"I'm too ti--" There was no time to finish, for the shoes landed her in
the middle of the strawberry bed at one jump.

"I might as well be a grasshopper if I'm to skip round like this," she
said, forgetting to feel tired out there in the pleasant garden, with the
robins picking berries close by, and a cool wind lifting the leaves to
show here the reddest and ripest ones hid.

The little dish was soon filled, and she wanted to stay and eat a few,
warm and sweet from the vines; but the bell rang, and away she went, over
the wood-pile, across the piazza, and into the dining-room before the
berry in her mouth was half eaten.

"How this child does rush about to-day!" said her mother. "It is so
delightful to have such a quick little errand-girl that I shall get her to
carry some bundles to my poor people this afternoon.

"Oh, dear me! I do hate to lug those old clothes and bottles and baskets
of cold victuals round. Must I do it?" sighed Kitty, dismally, while the
shoes tapped on the floor under the table, as if to remind her that she
must, whether she liked it or not.

"It would be right and kind, and would please me very much. But you may do
as you choose about it. I am very tired, and some one must go; for the
little Bryan baby is sick and needs what I send," said mamma, looking
disappointed.

Kitty sat very still and sober for some time, and no one spoke to her. She
was making up her mind whether she would go pleasantly or be whisked about
like a grasshopper against her will. When dinner was over, she said in a
cheerful voice,--

"I'll go, mamma; and when all the errands are done, may I come back
through Fairyland, as we call the little grove where the tall ferns grow?"

"Yes, dear; when you oblige me, I am happy to please you."

"I'm glad I decided to be good; now I shall have a lovely time," said
Kitty to herself, as she trotted away with a basket in one hand, a bundle
in the other, and some money in her pocket for a poor old woman who needed
help.

The shoes went quietly along, and seemed to know just where to stop. The
sick baby's mother thanked her for the soft little nightgowns; the lame
girl smiled when she saw the books; the hungry children gathered round the
basket of food, like young birds eager to be fed; and the old woman gave
her a beautiful pink shell that her sailor son brought home from sea.

When all the errands were done Kitty skipped away to Fairyland, feeling
very happy, as people always do when they have done kind things. It was a
lovely place; for the ferns made green arches tall enough for little girls
to sit under, and the ground was covered with pretty green moss and wood-
flowers. Birds flew about in the pines, squirrels chattered in the oaks,
butterflies floated here and there, and from the pond near by came the
croak of frogs sunning their green backs on the mossy stones.

"I wonder if the shoes will let me stop and rest; it is so cool here, and
I'm so tired," said Kitty, as she came to a cosey nook at the foot of a
tree.

The words were hardly out of her mouth when her feet folded under her, and
there she sat on a cushion of moss, like the queen of the wood on her
throne. Something lighted with a bump close by her; and looking down she
saw a large black cricket with a stiff tail, staring at her curiously.

"Bless my heart! I thought you were some relation of my cousin
Grasshopper's. You came down the hill with long leaps just like him; so I
stopped to say, How d' ye do," said the cricket, in its creaky voice.

"I'm not a grasshopper; but I have on fairy shoes to-day, and so do many
things that I never did before," answered Kitty, much surprised to be able
to understand what the cricket said.

"It is midsummer day, and fairies can play whatever pranks they like. If
you didn't have those shoes on, you couldn't understand what I say. Hark,
and hear those squirrels talk, and the birds, and the ants down here. Make
the most of this chance; for at sunset your shoes will stop skipping, and
the fun all be over."

While the cricket talked Kitty did hear all sorts of little voices,
singing, laughing, chatting in the gayest way, and understood every word
they said. The squirrels called to one another as they raced about,--

"Here's a nut, there's a nut;
Hide it quick away,
In a hole, under leaves,
To eat some winter day.
Acorns sweet are plenty,
We will have them all:
Skip and scamper lively
Till the last ones fall."

The birds were singing softly,--

"Rock a bye, babies,
Your cradle hangs high;
Soft down your pillow,
Your curtain the sky.
Father will feed you,
While mother will sing,
And shelter our darlings
With her warm wing."

And the ants were saying to one another as they hurried in and out of
their little houses,--

"Work, neighbor, work!
Do not stop to play;
Wander far and wide,
Gather all you may.

We are never like
Idle butterflies,
But like the busy bees,
Industrious and wise."

"Ants always were dreadfully good, but butterflies are ever so much
prettier," said Kitty, listening to the little voices with wonder and
pleasure.

"Hello! hello!
Come down below,--
It's lovely and cool
Out here in the pool;
On a lily-pad float
For a nice green boat.
Here we sit and sing
In a pleasant ring;
Or leap frog play,
In the jolliest way.
Our games have begun,
Come join in the fun."

"Dear me! what could I do over there in the mud with the queer green
frogs?" laughed Kitty, as this song was croaked at her.

"No, no, come and fly
Through the sunny sky,
Or honey sip
From the rose's lip,
Or dance in the air,
Like spirits fair.
Come away, come away;
'Tis our holiday."

A cloud of lovely yellow butterflies flew up from a wild-rose bush, and
went dancing away higher and higher, till they vanished in the light
beyond the wood.

"That is better than leap-frog. I wish my skipping shoes would let me fly
up somewhere, instead of carrying me on errands and where I ought to go
all the time," said Kitty, watching the pretty things glitter as they
flew.

Just at that minute a clock struck, and away went the shoes over the pool,
the hill, the road, till they pranced in at the gate as the tea-bell rang.
Kitty amused the family by telling what she had done and seen; but no one
believed the Fairyland part, and her father said, laughing,--

"Go on, my dear, making up little stories, and by and by you may be as
famous as Hans Christian Andersen, whose books you like so well."

"The sun will soon set, and then my fun will be over; so I must skip while
I can," thought Kitty, and went waltzing round the lawn so prettily that
all the family came to see her.

"She dances so well that she shall go to dancing-school," said her mother,
pleased with the pretty antics of her little girl.

Kitty was delighted to hear that; for she had longed to go, and went on
skipping as hard as she could, that she might learn some of the graceful
steps the shoes took before the day was done.

"Come, dear, stop now, and run up to your bath and bed. It has been a long
hot day, and you are tired; so get to sleep early, for Nursey wants to go
out," said her mother, as the sun went down behind the hills with a last
bright glimmer, like the wink of a great sleepy eye.

"Oh, please, a few minutes more," began Kitty, but was off like a flash;
for the shoes trotted her upstairs so fast that she ran against old
Nursey, and down she went, splashing the water all over the floor, and
scolding in such a funny way that it made Kitty laugh so that she could
hardly pick her up again.

By the time she was ready to undress the sun was quite gone, and the shoes
she took off were common ones again, for midsummer day was over. But Kitty
never forgot the little lessons she had learned: she tried to run
willingly when spoken to; she remembered the pretty steps and danced like
a fairy; and best of all, she always loved the innocent and interesting
little creatures in the woods and fields, and whenever she was told she
might go to play with them, she hurried away almost as quickly as if she
still wore the skipping shoes.

[Illustration: So Cocky was brought in, and petted.]

V.

COCKYLOO.

In the barnyard a gray hen sat on her nest, feeling very happy because it
was time for her eggs to hatch, and she hoped to have a fine brood of
chickens. Presently crack, crack, went the shells, "Peep, peep!" cried the
chicks; "Cluck, cluck!" called the hen; and out came ten downy little
things one after the other, all ready to run and eat and scratch,--for
chickens are not like babies, and don't have to be tended at all.

There were eight little hens and two little cockerels, one black and one
as white as snow, with yellow legs, bright eyes, and a tiny red comb on
his head. This was Cockyloo, the good chick; but the black one was named
Peck, and was a quarrelsome bad fowl, as we shall see.

Mrs. Partlet, the mamma, was very proud of her fine family; for the eight
little daughters were all white and very pretty. She led them out into the
farmyard, clucking and scratching busily; for all were hungry, and ran
chirping round her to pick up the worms and seeds she found for them.
Cocky soon began to help take care of his sisters; and when a nice corn or
a fat bug was found, he would step back and let little Downy or Snowball
have it. But Peck would run and push them away, and gobble up the food
greedily. He chased them away from the pan where the meal was, and picked
the down off their necks if they tried to get their share. His mother
scolded him when the little ones ran to hide under her wings; but he
didn't care, and was very naughty. Cocky began to crow when he was very
young, and had such a fine voice that people liked to hear his loud, clear
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" early in the morning; for he woke before the sun was
up, and began his song. Peck used to grumble at being roused at dawn, for
he was lazy; but the hens bustled up, and were glad to get out of the
hen-house.

The father cock had been killed by a dog; so they made Cocky king of the
farmyard, and Peck was very jealous of him.

"I came out of the shell first, and I am the oldest; so I ought to be
king," he said.

"But we don't like you, because you are selfish, cross, and lazy. We want
Cocky; he is so lively, kind, and brave. He will make a splendid bird, and
_he_ must be our king," answered the hens; and Peck had to mind, or
they would have pulled every feather out of his little tail.

He resolved to do some harm to his good brother, and plagued him all he
could. One day, when Cocky was swinging with three of his sisters on a
bush that hung over the brook, Peck asked a stupid donkey feeding near to
come and put his heavy foot on the bush. He did it, and crack went the
branch, splash went the poor chicks into the water, and all were drowned
but Cocky, who flew across and was saved. Poor little Hop, Chirp, and
Downy went floating down the brook like balls of white foam, and were
never seen again. All the hens mourned for them, and put a black feather
in their heads to show how sorry they were. Mamma Partlet was heart-broken
to lose three darlings at once; but Cocky comforted her, and never told
how it happened, because he was ashamed to have people know what a bad
bird Peck was.

A butterfly saw it all, and he told Granny Cockletop about it; and the
hens were so angry that they turned Peck out of the barnyard, and he had
to go and live in the woods alone. He said he didn't care; but he did, and
was very unhappy, and used to go and peep into the pleasant field where
the fowls scratched and talked together. He dared not show himself, for
they would have driven him out. But kind Cocky saw him, and would run with
some nice bit and creep through the fence into the wood, saying,--"Poor
brother, I'm sorry for you, and I'll come and play with you, and tell you
the news."

Now in this wood lived a fox, and he had been planning to eat Peck as soon
as he was fat; for he missed the good corn and meal he used to have, and
grew very thin living on grasshoppers and berries. While he waited the sly
fellow made friends with Peck, though the bird knew that foxes ate hens.

"I'm not afraid, and I don't believe old Granny Cockletop's tales. I can
take care of myself, I guess," he said, and went on playing with the fox,
who got him to tell all about the hen-house,--how the door was fastened,
and where the plump chickens roosted, and what time they went to bed,--so
that he could creep in and steal a good supper by and by. Silly Peck never
guessed what harm he was doing, and only laughed when Cocky said,--

"You will be sorry if you play with the fox. He is a bad fellow; so be
careful and sleep on a high branch, and keep out of his way, as I do."

Cocky was fat and large, and the fox longed to eat him, but never could,
because he wisely ran home whenever he saw the rogue hiding in the wood.
This made Peck angry, for he wanted his brother to stay and play; and so
one day, when Cocky ran off in the midst of a nice game, Peck said to the
fox,--

"See here, if you want to catch that fellow, I'll tell you how to do it.
He has promised to bring me some food to-night, when all the rest are at
roost. He will hide and not get shut up; then, when those cross old
biddies are asleep, he will cluck softly, and I am to go in and eat all I
want out of the pan. You hide on the top of the hen-house; and while he
talks to me, you can pounce on him. Then I shall be the only cock here,
and they will have to make me king."

"All right," said the fox, much pleased with the plan, and very glad that
Peck had a chance to get fatter.

So when it was night, Peck crept through the broken paling and waited till
he heard the signal. Now, good Cocky had saved up nice bits from his own
dinner, and put them in a paper hidden under a bush. He spread them all
out in the barnyard and called; and Peck came in a great hurry to eat
them, never stopping to say, "Thank you."

Cocky stood by talking pleasantly till a little shower came up.

"Peck, dear, put this nice thick paper over you; then you will be dry, and
can go on eating. I'll step under that burdock leaf and wait till you are
done," said Cocky; and Peck was too busy gobbling up the food to remember
anything else.

Now the fox had just crept up on the hen-house roof; and when he peeped
down, there was just light enough to see a white thing bobbing about.

"Ah, ha! that's Cockyloo; now for a good supper!" And with a jump he
seized Peck by the head before he could explain the mistake.

One squawk, and the naughty bird was dead; but though the paper fell off,
and the fox saw what he had done, it was too late, and he began to eat
Peck up, while Cocky flew into a tree and crowed so loud that the farmer
ran with his gun and shot the fox before he could squeeze through the hole
in the fence with the fowl in his mouth.

After that the hens felt safe, for there were no more foxes; and when they
heard about Peck they did not mourn at all, but liked Cocky better than
ever, and lived happily together, with nothing to trouble them.

King Cockyloo grew to be a splendid bird,--pure white, with a tall red
comb on his head, long spurs on his yellow legs, many fine feathers in his
tail, and eyes that shone like diamonds. His crow was so loud that it
could be heard all over the neighborhood, and people used to say, "Hark!
hear Farmer Hunt's cock crow. Isn't it a sweet sound to wake us in the
dawn?" All the other cocks used to answer him, and there was a fine
matinee concert every day.

He was a good brother, and led his five little sisters all about the
field, feeding, guarding, and amusing them; for mamma was lame now, and
could not stir far from the yard. It was a pretty sight to see Cocky run
home with a worm in his bill or a nice berry, and give it to his mother,
who was very proud of her handsome son. Even old Granny Cockletop, who
scolded about everything, liked him; and often said, as the hens sat
scuffling in the dust,--

"A fine bird, my dears, a very fine bird, and I know he will do something
remarkable before he dies."

She was right for once; and this is what he did.

One day the farmer had to go away and stay all night, leaving the old lady
alone with two boys. They were not afraid; for they had a gun, and quite
longed for a chance to fire it. Now it happened that the farmer had a good
deal of money in the house, and some bad men knew it; so they waited for
him to go away that they might steal it. Cocky was picking about in the
field when he heard voices behind the wall, and peeping through a hole saw
two shabby men hiding there.

"At twelve, to-night, when all are asleep, we will creep in at the kitchen
window and steal the money. You shall watch on the outside and whistle if
any one comes along while I'm looking for the box where the farmer keeps
it," said one man.

"You needn't be afraid; there is no dog, and no one to wake the family, so
we are quite safe," said the other man; and then they both went to sleep
till night came.

Cocky was much troubled, and didn't know what to do. He could not tell the
old lady about it; for he could only cackle and crow, and she would not
understand that language. So he went about all day looking very sober, and
would not chase grasshoppers, play hide-and-seek under the big burdock
leaves, or hunt the cricket with his sisters. At sunset he did not go into
the hen-house with the rest, but flew up to the shed roof over the
kitchen, and sat there in the cold ready to scare the robbers with a loud
crow, as he could do nothing else.

At midnight the men came creeping along; one stopped outside, and the
other went in. Presently he handed a basket of silver out, and went back
for the money. Just as he came creeping along with the box, Cocky gave a
loud, long crow, that frightened the robbers and woke the boys. The man
with the basket ran away in such a hurry that he tumbled into a well; the
other was going to get out of the window, when Cocky flew down and picked
at his eyes and flapped his wings in his face, so that he turned to run
some other way, and met the boys, who fired at him and shot him in the
legs. The old lady popped her head out of the upper window and rang the
dinner-bell, and called "Fire! fire!" so loud that it roused the
neighbors, who came running to see what the trouble could be.

They fished one man out of the well and picked up the wounded one, and
carried them both off to prison.

"Who caught them?" asked the people.

"We did," cried the boys, very proud of what they had done; "but we
shouldn't have waked if our good Cocky had not crowed, and scared the
rascals. He deserves half the praise, for this is the second time he has
caught a thief."

So Cocky was brought in, and petted, and called a fine fellow; and his
family were so proud of him they clucked about it for weeks afterward.

When the robbers were tried, it was found that they were the men who had
robbed the bank, and taken a great deal of money; so every one was glad to
have them shut up for twenty years. It made a great stir, and people would
go to see Cocky and tell how he helped catch the men; and he was so brave
and handsome, they said at last,--

"We want a new weather-cock on our court-house, and instead of an arrow
let us have a cock; and he shall look like this fine fellow."

"Yes, yes," cried the young folks, much pleased; for they thought Cocky
ought to be remembered in some way.

So a picture was taken, and Cocky stood very still, with his bright eye on
the man; then one like it was made of brass, and put high up on the court-
house, where all could see the splendid bird shining like gold, and
twirling about to tell which way the wind was. The children were never
tired of admiring him; and all the hens and chickens went in a procession
one moonlight night to see it,--yes, even Mamma Partlet and Granny
Cockletop, though one was lame and the other very old, so full of pride
were they in the great honor done King Cockyloo.

This was not the end of his good deeds; and the last was the best of all,
though it cost him his life. He ruled for some years, and kept his kingdom
in good order; for no one would kill him, when many of the other fowls
were taken for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. But he did die at last;
and even then he was good and brave, as you shall hear.

One of the boys wanted to smoke a pipe, and went behind the hen-house, so
nobody should see him do such a silly thing. He thought he heard his
father coming, and hid the pipe under the house. Some straw and dry leaves
lay about, and took fire, setting the place in a blaze; for the boy ran
away when he saw the mischief he had done, and the fire got to burning
nicely before the cries of the poor hens called people to help. The door
was locked, and could not be opened, because the key was in the pocket of
the naughty boy; so the farmer got an axe and chopped down the wall,
letting the poor biddies fly out, squawking and smoking.

"Where is Cocky?" cried the other boy, as he counted the hens and missed
the king of the farmyard.

"Burnt up, I'm afraid," said the farmer, who was throwing water on the
flames.

Alas! yes, he was: for when the fire was out they found good old Cocky
sitting on a nest, with his wide wings spread over some little chicks
whose mother had left them. They were too small to run away, and sat
chirping sadly till Cocky covered and kept them safe, though the smoke
choked _him_ to death.

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