Mr. Rabbit at Home, Joel Chandler Harris [ap literature book list TXT] 📗
- Author: Joel Chandler Harris
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“The little girl hesitated, but she had come so far to see where the Thunder lived that she would not turn back now. So she went forward, and soon came to the door of Mr. Thunder’s house. It was a very big door to a very big house. The knocker was so heavy that the little girl could hardly lift it, and when she let it fall against the panel, the noise it made jarred the building and sent a loud echo rolling and tumbling down the mountain. The little girl thought, ‘What have I done? If the Thunder is taking a nap before dinner, he’ll be very angry.’
SHE WAITED A LITTLE WHILE
“She waited a little while, not feeling very comfortable. Presently she heard heavy footsteps coming down the wide hall to the door.
“‘I thought I heard some one knocking,’ said a hoarse, gruff voice. Then the big door flew open, and there, standing before her, the little girl saw a huge figure that towered almost to the top of the high door. It wore heavy boots, a big overcoat, and under its long, thick beard there was a muffler a yard wide. The little girl was very much frightened at first, but she soon remembered that there was nothing for such a little bit of a girl to be afraid of.
“The figure, that seemed to be so terrible at first glance, had nothing threatening about it. ‘Who knocked at the door?’ it cried.
“Its voice sounded so loud that the little girl put her fingers in her ears.
“‘Don’t talk so loud, please,’ she said. ‘I’m not deaf.’
“‘Oh!’ cried the giant at the door. ‘You are there, are you? You are so small I didn’t see you at first. Come in!’
“The little girl started to go in, and then paused. ‘Are you the Thunder?’ she asked.
“‘Why, of course,’ was the reply; ‘who else did you think it was?’
“‘I didn’t know,’ said the little girl. ‘I wanted to be certain about it.’
“‘Come in,’ said the Thunder. ‘It isn’t often I have company from the people below, and I’m glad you found me at home.’
The Thunder led the way down the hall and into a wide sitting-room, where a fire was burning brightly in the biggest fireplace the little girl had ever seen. A two-horse wagon could turn around in it without touching the andirons. A pair of tongs as tall as a man stood in one corner, and in the other corner was a shovel to match. A long pipe lay on the mantel.
“‘There’s no place for you to sit except on the floor,’ said the Thunder.
“‘I can sit on the bed,’ suggested the little girl.
“The Thunder laughed so loudly that the little girl had to close her ears again. ‘Why, that is no bed,’ the Thunder said when it could catch its breath; ‘that’s my footstool.’
“‘Well,’ said the little girl, ‘it’s big enough for a bed. It’s very soft and nice.’
“‘I find it very comfortable,’ said the Thunder, ‘especially when I get home after piloting a tornado through the country. It is tough work, as sure as you are born.’
“The Thunder took the long pipe from the mantel and lit it with a pine splinter, the flame of which flashed through the windows with dazzling brightness.
“‘Folks will say that is heat lightning,’ remarked the little girl.
“‘Yes,’ replied the Thunder; ‘farmers to the north of us will say there is going to be a drought, because of lightning in the south. Farmers to the south of us will say there’s going to be rain, because of lightning in the north. None of them knows that I am smoking my pipe.’
“But somehow, in turning around, the Thunder knocked the big tongs over, and they fell upon the floor with a tremendous crash. The floor appeared to give forth a sound like a drum, only a thousand times louder, and, although the little girl had her fingers in her ears, she could hear the echoes roused under the house by the falling tongs go rattling down the mountain side and out into the valley beyond.
“The Thunder sat in the big armchair smoking, and listening with legs crossed. The little girl appeared to be sorry that she had come.
“‘Now, that is too bad,’ said the Thunder. ‘The Whirlwind in the south will hear that and come flying; the West Wind will hear it and come rushing, and they will drag the clouds after them, thinking that I am ready to take my ride. But it’s all my fault. Instead of turning the winds in the pasture, I ought to have put them in the stable. Here they come now!’
“The little girl listened, and, sure enough, the whirlwinds from the south and the west came rushing around the house of the Thunder. The west wind screamed around the windows, and the whirlwinds from the south whistled through the cracks and keyholes.
“‘I guess I’ll have to go with them,’ said the Thunder, rising from the chair and walking around the room. ‘It’s the only way to quiet them.’
“‘Do you always wear your overcoat?’ the little girl asked.
“‘Always,’ replied the Thunder. ‘There’s no telling what moment I’ll be called. Sometimes I go just for a frolic, and sometimes I am obliged to go. Will you stay until I return?’
“‘Oh, no,’ the little girl replied; ‘the house is too large. I should be afraid to stay here alone.’
“‘I am sorry,’ said the Thunder. ‘Come and see me get in my carriage.’
“They went to the door. The whirlwinds from the south and the winds from the west had drawn the clouds to the steps, and into these the Thunder climbed.
“‘Good-by,’ he cried to the little girl. ‘Stay where you are until we are out of sight.’
“There was a flash of light, a snapping sound, a rattling crash, and the Thunder, with the clouds for his carriage and the winds for his horses, went roaming and rumbling through the sky, over the hills and valleys.”
Mr. Thimblefinger paused and looked at the children. They, expecting him to go on, said nothing.
“How did you like my story?” he asked.
“Is it a story?” inquired Buster John.
“Well, call it a tale,” said Mr. Thimblefinger.
“Hit’s too high up in de elements for ter suit me,” said Drusilla, candidly.
“What became of the little girl?” asked Sweetest Susan.
“When the Thunder rolled away,” said Mr. Thimblefinger, “she went back to where the old man was awaiting her, and he, having nothing to do, carried her to the Jumping-Off Place.”
THE JUMPING-OFF PLACE.
The children looked at Mr. Thimblefinger to see whether he was joking about the Jumping-Off Place, but he seemed to be very serious.
“I have heard of the Jumping-Off Place,” remarked Mrs. Meadows, “but I had an idea it was just a saying.”
“Well,” replied Mr. Thimblefinger, “where you see a good deal of smoke, there must be some fire. When you hear a great many different people talking about anything, there must be something in it.”
“What did the little girl see when she got to the Jumping-Off Place?” inquired Sweetest Susan.
“It was this way,” said Mr. Thimblefinger: “When the whirlwinds from the south and the winds from the west, working in double harness, carried the thick clouds away, and the Thunder with them, the little girl went back to the place where she had left the old man who had carried her up the mountain.
“She found him waiting. He was sitting at the foot of a tree, sleeping peacefully, but he awoke at once.
“‘You see I am waiting for you,’ he said. ‘How did you enjoy your visit?’
“‘I didn’t enjoy it much,’ replied the little girl. ‘Everything was so large, and the Thunder made so much fuss.’
“‘I hope you didn’t mind that,’ said the old man. ‘The Thunder is a great growler and grumbler, but when that’s said, all’s said. I am sorry, though, you didn’t have a good time. I suppose you think it is my fault, but it isn’t. If you say so, I’ll go to the Jumping-Off Place.’
“‘Where is that?’ asked the little girl.
“‘Just beyond the Well at the End of the World.’
“‘If it isn’t too far, let’s go there,’ said the little girl.
“So the old man lifted her on his back, and they went on their way. They must have gone very swiftly, for it wasn’t long before they came to the Well at the End of the World. An old woman was sitting near the Well, combing her hair. She paid no attention to the travelers, nor they to her. When they had gone beyond the Well a little distance, the little girl noticed that the sky appeared to be very close at hand. It was no longer blue, but dark, and seemed to hang down like a blanket or a curtain.”
“But that couldn’t be, you know,” said Buster John, “for the sky is no sky at all. It is nothing but space.”
“How comes it dey call it sky, ef ’t ain’t no sky?” asked Drusilla, indignantly. “An’ how come’t ain’t no sky, when it’s right up dar, plain ez de han’ fo’ yo’ face? Dat what I’d like ter know.”
“Why, the moon is thousands of miles away,” said Buster John, “and some of the stars are millions and millions of miles farther than the moon.”
“Dat what dey say,” replied Drusilla, “but how dey know? Whar de string what dey medjud ’em wid? Tell me dat!”
“What about our sky?” asked Mrs. Meadows, smiling. “You would never think it was only the bottom of the spring if you didn’t know it; now would you?”
Buster John had nothing to say in reply to this. Whereupon Sweetest Susan begged Mr. Thimblefinger to please go on with his story.
“Well,” said he, “if I am to go on with it, I’ll have to tell it just as I heard it. I’ll have to put the sky just where I was told it was. When the little girl and the old man came close to the Jumping-Off Place, they saw that the sky was hanging close at hand. It may have been far, it may have been near, but to the little girl it seemed to be close enough to touch, and she wished very much for a long pole, so that she could see whether it was made of muslin or ginghams.
PRESENTLY THEY CAME TO A PRECIPICE
“Presently they came to a precipice. There was nothing beyond it and nothing below it. ‘This,’ said the old man to the little girl, ‘is the Jumping-Off Place.’
“‘Does any one jump off here?’ said the little girl.
“‘Not that I know of,’ replied the old man, ‘but if they should take a notion to, the place is all ready for them.’
“‘Where would I fall to, if I jumped off?’ the little girl asked.
“‘To Nowhere,’ answered the old man.
“‘That is very funny,’ said the little girl.
“‘Yes,’ remarked the old man, ‘you can get to the End of the World, but you would have to travel many a long year before you get to Nowhere. Some say it is a big city, some say it is a
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