The Jimmyjohns, and other stories

by Abby Morton Diaz

Mr. Plummer showed the little boys a scraggy tree which grew on the edge of a bank, near the shore; and told them they would see the oxen as soon as they turned the corner where that tree grew. One took hold on one side of the pail, and the other on the other; and in that way they walked along the shore, keeping pretty close to the bank. It took them only about five or ten minutes to reach that tree; and, when the corner was turned, they saw the oxen plainly, but could not see Ellis Payne. They kept on, walking more slowly, the way being more stony, and at last came to the oxen. Ellis Payne was not there. The reason of his not having been there is as follows: Two fields away from the shore stood a small red house all alone by itself, in which lived an old woman with her young grandson. The young grandson fell from a chamber-window, and broke his collar-bone bone; and the old woman ran to the shore, screaming for help; and Ellis Payne left his work, and went to find out what was the matter.

The Jimmyjohns, seeing some oxen farther along the shore, thought perhaps those first oxen were not the right ones, and so kept on to those other ones. They turned down, and walked quite near the water, picking up pretty pebbles as they went along, and now and then a cockle-shell, or a scallop, or purple muscle. Some of the shells were single; others in pairs, which could be opened like crackers. They had a reason for picking up the scallops and muscles, which there is no time to mention here; though, after all, perhaps it may as well be told. Annetta Plummer was going to have a party, and she had not enough scalloped shells to bake her cakes in. The cockles were for Effie to put in her arm-basket. The Jimmyjohns picked up enough of all kinds to fill their pockets; then took off their hats, and filled those. By that time they had come to the spot where the oxen had stood. But no oxen were there then, and no man: so there was nothing better to do than to play in the sand, and sail clam-shell boats in the little pools. It was a warm day; the water looked cool; and the little Jimmies, as they beheld the rippling waves, felt just like wading in. So it was off with shoes, and off with stockings, roll up trousers-legs, and away and away, with a run, and a shout, and a dash, and a splash, and a spatter. A little distance out from the shore there was a high rock, not so very, very high,—just the right height to give them a good seat; and they sat down there, feet in the water, heads together, looking down into the water, watching the fries darting swiftly hither and thither.

It is just here that the gull part of the story comes in. Gulls are large sea-birds. They live upon fish, and they are their own fishermen. Some may call this the funny part of the story, though those who are ever in such a story may not call it the funny part.

The white-winged gulls were flying about. It is a common thing, at sea-side places, to see gulls flying about, and skimming over the water. Sometimes they dip in their bills and take a fish. The Jimmyjohns sat looking down, keeping very still, so as not to scare the fries away. Just what the gulls thought of them no one knows, and it can never be known; for there is no way of finding out gulls’ thoughts, which is a pity: it would be so curious to know just what they do think about, and how they think it! Perhaps those that belong to this story thought the two Jimmyjohns were two great fishes, exactly alike; or perhaps they thought hair would be good to line nests with. But, whatever they thought, this is what they did: They flew down swift and sudden upon the boys’ heads, flapped their great wings in their faces, clawed their hair, beat them with their beaks. The little fellows screamed, jumped, fell down, scrambled up, ran, fell down, then up again; got to the shore some way; ran over the sand, over the pebbles, over the stones, over the rocks, across wet grass, up a bank, through a field, screaming all the time as if the gulls were chasing them every step of the way. But no doubt the gulls had been just as much frightened as the boys; for they had flown away faster than they came, out of sight, far over the sea. The Jimmies sat down on the grass, in the warm sunshine, and rubbed their bruises, and counted the cuts in their feet. Johnny’s left knee was lame, and the heel of the other foot had been badly cut by a piece of clam-shell.

By this time it was quite late in the afternoon. The boys began to feel hungry, and talked of going to get the pail, and eating some of the dinner. One guessed it would be stealing to do that, and the other guessed it would not be stealing. At last they agreed to go and get their hats and shoes and stockings and the pail, and find Ellis Payne, and ask him to give them a little piece of his gingerbread.

It was pretty hard work going back over those sharp stones, and that coarse, stubbed grass, barefoot. To be sure, they came that way; but they were frightened then, and only thought of the gulls. That grass—why, its edges were so sharp, it seemed as if little knives were cutting into their feet! They walked on their heels, on their toes, on the sides of their feet, almost on the tops of them sometimes, and so hobbled along slowly,—rather too slowly; for, by the time they reached the shore, somebody had been there before them, and taken all their things. What body? Why, a body you have heard of before; a body that has done great mischief; a body that had carried off bigger things than six-quart tin pails; a body that is said to get furious at times, and to do then the most terrible things. Have you never heard of a body of water called the mighty ocean? That was it. The mighty ocean rushed up that pebbly shore, and swallowed up hats, shoes, stockings, dinner-pail, dinner, and all. To speak in plain words, the tide had risen, and covered them.

The Jimmies never thought of that until a man came along—a man with a horse-cart—and told them. “Why,” said he, “no use looking: the tide has carried them off.”

When the man had gone, the boys went up from the water to look for Ellis Payne. Johnny’s heel was in such a state, he could only use the toes of that foot; and, in going over the sharp stones, he cut the ball of the same foot, so that he could not step with it at all; and, when they came to the stubbed grass that cut like little knives, he held up one foot, and hopped on the other; and, getting tired of that, he walked on his knees. Jimmy laughed at him, but, in the midst of his laughing, cried out, “Ou, ou!” and was glad enough to come down upon his own knees. And so they went on a while; but finding knee-walking hard to do, and apt to make knee-walkers roll over, they tried hand-walking and knee-walking both, which is all the same as crawling.

And now comes that part of the story where Jimmy was turned out of a house.

While those boys had been picking up shells, and playing in the sand, and wading, and watching the fries, and running away from gulls, and drying their clothes in the sun, and counting their cuts, and hobbling up and down the shore, the sun had been sinking lower and lower and lower; and Ellis Payne had finished making the hay, and gone home with it. It is sad to think how hungry Ellis Payne must have been! The boys were hungry too; and that may have been the reason why they went toward the little red house. It stood two fields away from the shore, as has already been stated. When they reached the last field, Johnny lay down in the grass, close by a row of wild-plum bushes, and cried. He said he could not walk any more. Jimmy said he would go into that house; and, if any woman gave him any thing, he would bring Johnny some. But when he reached the house he was too bashful to open the door, and staid in the wood-shed quite a long time, till he saw a woman go in.