Jackanapes | Page 6

Master Tony Johnson, a
younger brother of the young gentleman who sat in the puddle on
purpose. Tony was not enterprising, and Jackanapes led him by the
nose. One summer's evening they were out late, and Miss Jessamine
was becoming anxious, when Jackanapes presented himself with a
ghastly face all besmirched with tears. He was unusually subdued.
"I'm afraid," he sobbed; "if you please, I'm very much afraid that Tony
Johnson's dying in the churchyard."
Miss Jessamine was just beginning to be distracted, when she smelt
Jackanapes.
"You naughty, naughty boys! Do you mean to tell me that you've been
smoking?"
"Not pipes," urged Jackanapes; "upon my honor, Aunty, not pipes.
Only segars like Mr. Johnson's! and only made of brown paper with a
very, very little tobacco from the shop inside them."
Whereupon, Miss Jessamine sent a servant to the churchyard, who
found Tony Johnson lying on a tomb-stone, very sick, and having
ceased to entertain any hopes of his own recovery.
If it could be possible that any "unpleasantness" could arise between
two such amiable neighbors as Miss Jessamine and Mrs. Johnson--and
if the still more incredible paradox can be that ladies may differ over a
point on which they are agreed--that point was the admitted fact that
Tony Johnson was "delicate," and the difference lay chiefly in this: Mrs.
Johnson said that Tony was delicate--meaning that he was more finely
strung, more sensitive, a properer subject for pampering and petting
than Jackanapes, and that, consequently, Jackanapes was to blame for
leading Tony into scrapes which resulted in his being chilled,
frightened, or (most frequently) sick. But when Miss Jessamine said
that Tony Johnson was delicate, she meant that he was more puling,
less manly, and less healthily brought up than Jackanapes, who, when
they got into mischief together, was certainly not to blame because his

friend could not get wet, sit a kicking donkey, ride in the
giddy-go-round, bear the noise of a cracker, or smoke brown paper with
impunity, as he could.
Not that there was ever the slightest quarrel between the ladies. It never
even came near it, except the day after Tony had been so very sick with
riding Bucephalus in the giddy-go-round. Mrs. Johnson had explained
to Miss Jessamine that the reason Tony was so easily upset, was the
unusual sensitiveness (as a doctor had explained it to her) of the
nervous centres in her family--"Fiddlestick!" So Mrs. Johnson
understood Miss Jessamine to say, but it appeared that she only said
"Treaclestick!" which is quite another thing, and of which Tony was
undoubtedly fond.
[Illustration]
It was at the fair that Tony was made ill by riding on Bucephalus. Once
a year the Goose Green became the scene of a carnival. First of all,
carts and caravans were rumbling up all along, day and night.
Jackanapes could hear them as he lay in bed, and could hardly sleep for
speculating what booths and whirligigs he should find fairly established,
when he and his dog Spitfire went out after breakfast. As a matter of
fact, he seldom had to wait long for news of the Fair. The Postman
knew the window out of which Jackanapes' yellow head would come,
and was ready with his report.
"Royal Theayter, Master Jackanapes, in the old place, but be careful o'
them seats, sir; they're rickettier than ever. Two sweets and a
ginger-beer under the oak tree, and the Flying Boats is just a-coming
along the road."
No doubt it was partly because he had already suffered severely in the
Flying Boats, that Tony collapsed so quickly in the giddy-go-round. He
only mounted Bucephalus (who was spotted, and had no tail) because
Jackanapes urged him, and held out the ingenious hope that the
round-and-round feeling would very likely cure the up-and-down
sensation. It did not, however, and Tony tumbled off during the first
revolution.

Jackanapes was not absolutely free from qualms, but having once
mounted the Black Prince he stuck to him as a horseman should.
During the first round he waved his hat, and observed with some
concern that the Black Prince had lost an ear since last Fair; at the
second, he looked a little pale but sat upright, though somewhat
unnecessarily rigid; at the third round he shut his eyes. During the
fourth his hat fell off, and he clasped his horse's neck. By the fifth he
had laid his yellow head against the Black Prince's mane, and so clung
anyhow till the hobby-horses stopped, when the proprietor assisted him
to alight, and he sat down rather suddenly and said he had enjoyed it
very much.
The Grey Goose always ran away at the first approach of the caravans,
and never came back to the Green till there was nothing left of the Fair
but footmarks and