“And did that old cross man touch that boy?” asked Johnny Plummer.
“I should think he did touch that boy!” said Mr. Tompkins. “Yes, yes, yes!—he, he, he, he!—I’ll tell you how it was. Just as the boy got to Mr. Spleigelspruch’s, a dozen or more people came running down the lane, screaming, ‘Elephant, elephant!—the elephant’s a-coming!’ There wasn’t a word of truth in this story. A few boys in town had shouted, ‘The elephant’s coming!’ meaning he was coming with the circus: and some folks who heard them thought the elephant had got away from his keeper; and they shouted and ran, and this made others shout and run, and this made others, and this made others; so that there was great confusion. Carriages were upset, windows smashed in, children jostled about; and some of the people were so scared, they ran out of town away past Mr. Spleigelspruch’s.
“Now, on this very day,” continued Mr. Tompkins, looking more and more smiling, “Mr. Spleigelspruch had received from his cousin in Germany, Mr. Lockken, a pair of very rare fowls called the ‘eagle-billed robin-fowl.’ They were very uncommon fowls indeed. The rooster was different from common roosters in three ways,—in the tone of its voice, in the hang of its tail-feathers, and in the shape of its bill. Its bill was shaped very much like an eagle’s bill. Mr. Lockken had taken great pains to improve the tone of voice. This kind of thing is something which nobody else ever did; at least, nobody that I ever heard of.
“‘If I can only cause to be sweet the voices of the crowers,’ Mr. Lockken in Germany wrote to his cousin, Mr. Spleigelspruch, ‘it will be then like to having so many monster robins about our door-yards. Then shall I make my fortune.’
“Mr. Lockken began on a kind of fowl called ‘the eagle-billed fowl,’ and tried experiments upon those for a number of years; keeping almost every thing that he did a secret, of course. It was said that he shut up the chicks, as soon as they were hatched, in a large cage of singing-birds. He tried a good many kinds of food, oils especially, mixed in a good many ways; and at last—so he wrote his cousin, Mr. Spleigelspruch—he did get a new kind of crowers. Their voices were not quite as musical as robins’ voices, he said; but they were remarkably fine-toned. He called them the ‘eagle-billed robin-fowl.’ Mr. Spleigelspruch bought the first pair of these fowls which were for sale, and paid fifty dollars for them; and there was the expense of getting them over here besides. They arrived, as I said just now, on the very day I have been speaking of; and, as the place where they were to stay was not quite ready, they were put, for a short time, in a barrel near a board fence, quite a little way from the back-yard. Mr. Lockken said in his letter, that, for the first year, it would be better for them to be kept as far out of hearing of the common kinds of crowers as was possible.
“Now, that chap with his dip-net, when those people yelled so about the elephant, jumped over the board fence in a hurry, and happened to jump right down upon that barrel, and knocked it over. He hit another barrel at the same time, and let out a duck,—some curious kind of South-sea duck, I think; but that wasn’t so much matter. When he came down, why, over went the barrel, and over went he, right into the duck-pond; and out flew the eagle-billed robin-fowls. Mr. Spleigelspruch was busy, some ways off, getting their place ready. The first that he knew of the matter, a woman who lived in the next house screamed to him that somebody was stealing his fowls. He saw a boy running, and gave chase. He didn’t know then that his fowls had got away. The boy tried to get out of sight, and ran so fast he didn’t mind where he was going, and so ran over some clean clothes spread out on the grass. Mr. Spleigelspruch’s wife and his wife’s sister, and his wife’s sister’s sister-in-law Winfreda, came out with their brooms in a terrible rage. The wife’s sister caught hold of him, and the wife held him fast. There was a tub near by, which had some rinsing-water in it; and they dropped him into that, and held him down with their brooms, and sent Winfreda to the pump for more water. They said they would souse him. Mr. Spleigelspruch came up, bawling,—
“‘Stop thief! Police! Hold him! Rub him! Give it to him! Drub him! Scrub him!’
“He caught up Winfreda’s broom, but didn’t use it long; for in a minute that same woman ran into the yard, screaming, ‘They’ve got away!—your new fowls have got away!’ Then they all left the boy, and ran to catch the fowls. When Winfreda came back with the water, she behaved kindly to the boy. Winfreda had lived a hard life, and that made her know how to pity other folks. Bringing the water along, she thought to herself (so she told the boy afterward),—
“‘Suppose I had married in my young days, and suppose I had now a little grandson, and suppose he were treated like that boy,—oh, how badly I should feel!’