Daffydowndilly and the Golden Touch by Alpha Banta Benson - HTML preview

LITTLE DAFFYDOWNDILLY.

There was once a little boy whose name was Daffydowndilly. Isn’t that a pretty name? Well, Daffydowndilly was a very pretty little boy. He had bright blue eyes and his cheeks were like roses, while his hair made one think of spun gold.

You think his name sounds like the name of a flower? So it does. That is why it was such a good name for this little boy. He looked like a bright flower. He often played in the meadows all day long. He liked to do only what was easy and pleasant.

Daffydowndilly’s mother was very kind to him. Her sweet face always wore a smile for the little boy. Indeed, I do not think he knew what a frown was.

But Daffydowndilly could not always play. Like all little boys, he was soon old enough to go to school, and then was sent away from his pleasant home to a school so many miles away, that he had to stay there all the time. The schoolmaster’s name was Mr. Toil.

Daffydowndilly had never before seen a face like Mr. Toil’s. There were such deep lines in it. How he frowned on the lazy boys! How harsh his voice was when he spoke to them!

Daffydowndilly had been at school but a week when he said to himself, “I don’t like to go to school. I’m afraid of Mr. Toil. I don’t like to work. I want to play. I’ll run away.”

So the very next morning, Daffydowndilly ran away. He had some bread and cheese for his breakfast and a little money in his pocket.

How glad he was to get away from school! He felt like a bird out of its cage.

He had not gone far when he overtook a man who, also, was walking.

“Good morning, my boy,” said the stranger. “Where are you going so early?”

Now, Daffydowndilly had never told a falsehood in his life and would not tell one now. After looking at the stranger for a moment he said,

“I am running away from school because I do not like the master. His name is Mr. Toil, and oh, he is so cross! I want to go where I shall never hear of him again.”

“I AM RUNNING AWAY FROM SCHOOL BECAUSE I DO NOT LIKE THE MASTER,” HE SAID

“Oh, very well, my little friend,” said the stranger. “We will go together. I, too, know Mr. Toil, and should like to find a place where he has never been heard of.”

This did not quite please Daffydowndilly. He would like a little boy for his companion much better. Then they could stop and gather flowers or chase butterflies. That would be so pleasant. But he thought,

“This man will know better which way to go. He will take care of me and keep me from harm.”

So he trudged along with the stranger. They had not gone far, when they came to a field where men were at work, cutting the tall grass. Then they spread it out in the sun to dry.

Daffydowndilly was delighted with the sweet smell of the new-mown grass. The sun shown down on the field. The birds sang in the trees near by.

“Oh, how beautiful!” cried he. “Let us stop and watch them. I wish I might stay here always. How much nicer it is here, than in that old school room.”

Just then he saw something that made him start back and catch his companion’s hand.

“Quick, quick!” cried he. “Let us run away or he will catch us!”

“Who will catch us?” asked the stranger.

“Mr. Toil, the old schoolmaster,” answered Daffydowndilly. “Don’t you see him in the field there?”

He pointed to an old man who seemed to be the owner of the field. He had taken off his coat and was working in his shirt sleeves. He did not rest a moment. All the time he kept saying,

“Make hay while the sun shines, my men.”

Sure enough, he did look just like Mr. Toil. His voice, too, was the same, yet Mr. Toil must have been in the school room at that time.

“Don’t be afraid,” said the stranger. “This is not Mr. Toil, the schoolmaster. It is one of his brothers. He is a farmer. People say he is worse than the schoolmaster. But he won’t trouble you, unless you go to work on his farm.”

Daffydowndilly believed this, yet was glad to get away. By-and-by they saw some carpenters building a house. Daffydowndilly wanted to stop again. He loved to watch the men making doors and putting in windows. How neatly they did their work.

It was a pretty sight to see the shavings roll from under the plane. They looked like ribbons.

“How nice it would be to have a saw, a hammer, and a plane, and build a little house for myself,” thought he.

While he was thinking what fine fun this would be, he saw something which made him cry out,

“Make haste. Quick, quick! There he is again!”

“Who?” asked the stranger.

“Old Mr. Toil,” said Daffydowndilly. “There! Don’t you see him among the carpenters? That’s my old schoolmaster, as sure as I live!”

The stranger looked where he pointed. He saw an old man with a carpenter’s rule in his hand. He was marking out the work to be done. All the time he was telling the men to work hard. And they sawed and hammered and planed as if for their lives.

“Oh, no!” said the stranger, “this is not Mr. Toil, the schoolmaster. It is another brother of his. He is a carpenter.”

“I’m very glad to hear it,” said Daffydowndilly. “But I’d like to get out of his way as soon as I can.”

So on they went. Soon they heard the sound of a drum and fife. Daffydowndilly knew there must be soldiers coming.

“Let us make haste,” said he, “I want to see the soldiers.”

They walked as fast as they could, and soon met a company of soldiers. They were gayly dressed, with beautiful feathers in their caps and carried bright guns on their shoulders.

In front marched two drummers and fifers. How they beat their drums and played their fifes! What lively music they made! Daffydowndilly thought he would like to follow them to the end of the world.

“If I were a soldier,” he thought, “Mr. Toil would never dare to look me in the face.”

“Quick step! Forward march!” shouted a gruff voice.

Daffydowndilly started to run.

“There he is again,” he cried. “I know his voice.”

Daffydowndilly pointed to the captain. He was, indeed, the very image of Mr. Toil. To be sure he wore a cap and feather, and carried a sword instead of a stick. But Daffydowndilly was sure it was his old schoolmaster.

“You are mistaken again, my little friend,” said the stranger. “This is not Mr. Toil, the schoolmaster, but another brother of his. He is a soldier and has been in the army all his life. You and I need not fear him.”

“Well,” said Daffydowndilly, “I’m glad to hear it; but, if you please sir, I don’t want to see the soldiers any more.”

On they went and, by-and-by, came to a house by the roadside. They could hear the sound of a fiddle within and, through the open doorway could see boys and girls dancing. They were having a merry time. Daffydowndilly thought he had never seen anything half so pretty.

“Oh, let us stop here,” he said. “Mr. Toil would never dare show his face where there is music and dancing. We shall be safe enough here.”

Just then he looked at the fiddler. Whom should he see again but old Mr. Toil. He had a violin bow instead of a stick, but looked exactly like the old schoolmaster.

“Oh, dear me!” said Daffydowndilly, turning pale. “Is there nobody but Mr. Toil in the whole world! Who would have thought he could play a fiddle!”

“This is not your old schoolmaster,” said the stranger. “This is another brother of his. He calls himself Mr. Pleasure, but his real name is Toil. Those who know him best, say he is worse than any of his brothers.”

“Let us go a little farther,” said Daffydowndilly. “I don’t like the looks of this fiddler at all.”

So they went on through shady lanes and pleasant villages. Everywhere the sky was blue, the sun shone, and the birds sang. But go where they would, there was the image of old Mr. Toil. Whether they stopped at a cottage or a mansion, it was all the same. Sometimes they found him in the parlor, very often in the kitchen. He was sure to be there somewhere.

Daffydowndilly was very tired, and seeing some men lying in a shady place by the roadside, he cried,

“Oh, let us sit down and rest. Mr. Toil will never come here. He hates to see people resting.”

Just then he looked at one of the men. He seemed to be the laziest of all. Who should it be again, but the very image of old Mr. Toil.

“There is a very large family of these Toils,” said the stranger. “This is another one of the schoolmaster’s brothers. He is a very idle fellow and does nothing but have, what he calls, a good time, but I think he has a harder time than any of the others.”

Daffydowndilly began to cry.

“Oh, take me back! Take me back!” said he. “If there is nothing but toil in the world, I may as well go back to the school house!”

“Well, there it is,” said the stranger. And, sure enough, there it was.

You see they had been going in a circle, instead of a straight line.

“Come, we will go back to school together.”

Something in the stranger’s voice made Daffydowndilly look at him. There, again, was the face of old Mr. Toil! So the poor boy had been with him all day, even while he was trying so hard to get away from him.

When he came to know the schoolmaster better, he found that he was not so bad, after all. And when he learned his lessons well, the old schoolmaster’s smile was almost as pleasant as was that of his own mother.

END