FullReads

The little man rolled his eyes round upon Bob, and said: “Oh, my! I’m gone off again!” And then he stretched his fat cheeks in an awful yawn.

“Hey! You’ll never get that mouth of your’n shet, ef you don’t be mighty keerful,” cried Bob; but the fellow was fast asleep before he could get the words out.

“Well now, that’th a purty lookin’ crowd, haint it?” said Bob, looking round upon the sleepers.

Just at that moment they began to wake up, one after another, but as soon as they saw Bob, they sighed and said: “He’s so curious,” or, “He’s so interesting,” or something of the sort, and fell away into a deep slumber again. At last Bob undertook to wake some of them up by hallooing, but the more noise he made, the more soundly they slept. Then he gave over shaking them and shouting at them, and sat down. As soon as he was quiet they began to wake up again.

“Hello!” cried Bob, when he saw two or three of them open their eyes.

“If you’d only keep still till I get awake,” said one of them, and then they all went to sleep again.

By keeping quite still he got them pretty well waked up. Then they all fell to counting their toes, to keep from becoming too much interested in Bobby, for just so sure as they get interested or excited, the Sleepy-headed People fall asleep. Presently the reader awoke, and began to mumble a lot of stuff out of the big book, about Epaminondas, and Sesostris, and Cyaxeres, and Clearchus, and the rest, and they all grew a little more wakeful. When he came to an account of a battle, Bobby began to be interested a little in the story, but all the others yawned and cried out, “Read across, read across!” and the reader straightway read clear across the page, mixing the two columns into hopeless nonsense, so as to destroy the interest. Then they all waked up again.

“I know a better thtory than that air!” said Bobby, growing tired of the long mumbling reading of the dull book.

“Do you? Tell it,” said the reader.

So Bobby began to tell them some of his adventures, upon which they all grew interested and fell asleep.

“Don’t tell any more like that,” said the little reader, when he awoke.

“What’th the matter weth it? Heap better thtory than that big book that you’re a mumblin’ over, Mr. Puddin’.”

“We don’t like interesting stories,” said the sleepy reader. “They put us to sleep. This is the best book in the world. It’s Rollin’s Ancient History, and it hasn’t got but a few interesting spots in the whole of it. Those we keep sewed up, so that we can’t read them. The rest is all so nice and dull, that it keeps us awake all day.”

Bobby stared, but said nothing.

“Can you sing?” said one of the plump little old women.

“Yeth, I can sing Dandy Jim.”

“Let’s have it. I do love singing; it soothes me and keeps me awake.”

Thus entreated, little Bobby stood up and sang one verse of a negro song he had heard, which ran:

“When de preacher took his tex’
He look so berry much perplex’
Fur nothin’ come acrost his mine
But Dandy Jim from Caroline!”

Bobby shut his eyes tight, and threw his head back and sang through his nose, as he had seen big folks do. He put the whole of his little soul into these impressive words. When he had finished and opened his eyes to discover what effect his vocal exertions had produced, his audience was of course fast asleep.

“Well, I never!” said Bob.

“The tune’s too awful lively,” said the little old woman, when she woke up. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Now, hear me sing.” And she began, in a slow, solemn movement, the most drawling tune you ever heard, and they all joined in the same fashion: