In Camp With A Tin Soldier. Bangs John Kendrick

his eyes and gazing up and down the road, upon which no sign of Jimmieboy's command was visible. "You ordered them to halt when you sat down here, didn't you?"

      "No," said Jimmieboy, "I didn't."

      "Then that accounts for it," returned the major, with a scornful glance at Jimmieboy. "They've gone on. They couldn't halt without orders, and they must be eight miles from here by this time."

      "What'll happen?" asked the boy, anxiously.

      "What'll happen?" echoed the major. "Why, they'll march on forever unless you get word to them to halt. You are a gay general, you are."

      "But what's to be done?" asked Jimmieboy, growing tearful.

      "There are only two things you can do. The earth is round, and in a few years they'll pass this way again, and then you can tell them to stop. That's one thing you can do. The second is to despatch me on horseback to overtake and tell them to keep right on. They'll know what you mean, and they'll halt and wait until you come up."

      "That's the best plan," cried Jimmieboy, with a sigh of relief. "You hurry ahead and make them wait for me, and I'll come along as fast as I can."

      So the major mounted his horse and galloped away, leaving Jimmieboy alone in the road, trudging manfully ahead as fast as his small legs could carry him.

      CHAPTER IV.

      JIMMIEBOY MEETS THE ENEMY

      AS the noise made by the clattering hoofs of Major Blueface's horse grew fainter and fainter, and finally died away entirely in the distance, Jimmieboy was a little startled to hear something that sounded very like a hiss in the trees behind him. At first he thought it was the light breeze blowing through the branches, making the leaves rustle, but when it was repeated he stopped short in the road and glanced backward, grasping his sword as he did so.

      "Hello there!" he cried. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

      "Sh-sh-sh!" answered the mysterious something. "Don't talk so loud, general, the major may come back."

      "What if he does?" said Jimmieboy. "I rather think I wish he would. I don't know whether or not I'm big enough not to be afraid of you. Can't you come out of the bushes and let me see you?"

      "Not unless the major is out of sight," was the answer. "I can't stand the major; but you needn't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you for all the world. I'm the enemy."

      "The what?" cried Jimmieboy, aghast.

      "I'm the enemy," replied the invisible object. "That's what I call myself when I'm with sensible people. Other people have a long name for me that I never could pronounce or spell. I'm the animal that got away."

      "Not the Parallelopipedon?" said Jimmieboy.

      "That's it! That's the name I can't pronounce," said the invisible animal. "I'm the Parallelandsoforth, and I've been trying to have an interview with you ever since I heard they'd made you general. The fact is, Jimmieboy, I am very anxious that you should succeed in capturing me, because I don't like it out here very much. The fences are the toughest eating I ever had, and I actually sprained my wisdom-tooth at breakfast this morning trying to bite a brown stone ball off the top of a gate post."

      "But if you feel that way," said Jimmieboy, somewhat surprised at this unusual occurrence, "why don't you surrender?"

      "Me?" cried the Parallelopipedon. "A Parallelandsoforth of my standing surrender right on the eve of a battle that means all the sweetmeats I can eat, and more too? I guess not."

      "I wish I could see you," said Jimmieboy, earnestly. "I don't like standing here talking to a wee little voice with nothing to him. Why don't you come out here where I can see you?"

      "It's for your good, Jimmieboy; that's why I stay in here. I am an awful spectacle. Why, it puts me all in a tremble just to look at myself; and if it affects me that way, just think how it would be with you."

      "I wouldn't be afraid," said Jimmieboy, bravely.

      "Yes, you would too," answered the Parallelopipedon. "You'd be so scared you couldn't run, I am so ugly. Didn't the major tell you that story about my reflection in the looking-glass?"

      "No," answered Jimmieboy. "He didn't say anything about it."

      "That's queer. The story is in rhyme, and the major always tells everybody all the poetry he knows," said the invisible enemy. "That's why I never go near him. He has only enough to last one year, and the second year he tells it all over again. I'm surprised he never told you about my reflection in the mirror, because it is one of his worst, and he always likes them better than the others."

      "I'll ask him to tell it to me next time I see him," said Jimmieboy, "unless you'll tell it to me now."

      "I'd just as lief tell you," said the Parallelopipedon. "Only you mustn't laugh or cry, because you haven't time to laugh, and generals never cry. This is the way it goes:

"THE PARALLELOPIPEDON AND THE MIRROR

      The Parallelopipedon so very ugly is,

      His own heart fills with terror when he looks upon his phiz.

      That's why he wears blue goggles – twenty pairs upon his nose,

      And never dares to show himself, no matter where he goes.

      One day when he was walking down a crowded village street,

      He looked into a little shop where stood a mirror neat.

      He saw his own reflection there as plain as plain could be;

      And said, 'I'd give four dollars if that really wasn't me.'

      And, strange to say, the figure in the mirror's silver face

      Was also filled with terror at the other's lack of grace;

      And this reflection trembled till it strangely came to pass

      The handsome mirror shivered to ten thousand bits of glass.

      To this tale there's a moral, and that moral briefly is:

      If you perchance are burdened with a terrifying phiz,

      Don't look into your mirror – 'tis a fearful risk to take —

      'Tis certain sure to happen that the mirror it will break."

      "Well, if that's so, I guess I don't want to see you," said Jimmieboy. "I only like pretty things. But tell me; if all this is true, how did the major come to say it? I thought he couldn't tell the truth."

      "That's only as a rule. Rules have exceptions. For instance," explained the Parallelopipedon, "as a rule I can't pronounce my name, but in reciting that poem to you I did speak my name in the very first line – but if you only knew how it hurt me to do it! Oh dear me, how it hurt! Did you ever have a tooth pulled?"

      "Once," said Jimmieboy, wincing at the remembrance of his painful experience.