FullReads

Isaac Borrachsohn, that son of potentates and of Assemblymen, had been taken to Central Park by a proud uncle. For weeks thereafter he was the favourite bard of the First Reader Class and an exceeding great trouble to its sovereign, Miss Bailey, who found him now as garrulous as he had once been silent. There was no subject in the Course of Study to which he could not correlate the wonders of his journey, and Teacher asked herself daily and in vain whether it were more pedagogically correct to encourage “spontaneous self-expression” or to insist upon “logically essential sequence.”

But the other members of the class suffered no such uncertainty. They voted solidly for spontaneity in a self which found expression thus:

“Und in the Central Park stands a water-lake, und in the water-lake stands birds–a big all of birds–und fishes. Und sooner you likes you should come over the water-lake you calls a bird, und you sets on the bird, und the bird makes go his legs, und you comes over the water-lake.”

“They could to be awful polite birds,” Eva Gonorowsky was beginning when Morris interrupted with:

“I had once a auntie und she had a bird, a awful polite bird; on’y sooner somebody calls him he couldn’t to come the while he sets in a cage.”

“Did he have a rubber neck?” Isaac inquired, and Morris reluctantly admitted that he had not been so blessed.

“In the Central Park,” Isaac went on, “all the birds is got rubber necks.”

“What colour from birds be they?” asked Eva.

“All colours. Blue und white und red und yellow.”

“Und green,” Patrick Brennan interjected determinedly. “The green ones is the best.”

“Did you go once?” asked Isaac, slightly disconcerted.

“Naw, but I know. Me big brother told me.”

“They could to be stylish birds, too,” said Eva wistfully. “Stylish und polite. From red und green birds is awful stylish for hats.”

“But these birds is big. Awful big! Mans could to ride on ’em und ladies und boys.”

“Und little girls, Ikey? Ain’t they fer little girls?” asked the only little girl in the group. And a very small girl she was, with a softly gentle voice and darkly gentle eyes fixed pleadingly now upon the bard.

“Yes,” answered Isaac grudgingly; “sooner they sets by somebody’s side little girls could to go. But sooner nobody holds them by the hand they could to have fraids over the rubber-neck-boat-birds und the water-lake, und the fishes.”

“What kind from fishes?” demanded Morris Mogilewsky, Monitor of Miss Bailey’s Gold-Fish Bowl, with professional interest.

“From gold fishes und red fishes und black fishes”–Patrick stirred uneasily and Isaac remembered–“und green fishes; the green ones is the biggest; und blue fishes und all kinds from fishes. They lives way down in the water the while they have fraids over the rubber-neck-boat- birds. Say, what you think? Sooner a rubber-neck-boat-bird needs he should eat he longs down his neck und eats a from gold fish.”

“‘Out fryin’?” asks Eva, with an incredulous shudder.

“Yes, ‘out fryin’. Ain’t I told you little girls could to have fraids over ’em? Boys could to have fraids too,” cried Isaac; and then spurred on by the calm of his rival, he added: “The rubber-neck-boat-birds they hollers somethin’ fierce.”

“I wouldn’t be afraid of them. Me pop’s a cop,” cried Patrick stoutly. “I’d just as lief set on ’em. I’d like to.”

“Ah, but you ain’t seen ’em, und you ain’t heard ’em holler,” Isaac retorted.

“Well, I’m goin’ to. An’ I’m goin’ to see the lions an’ the tigers an’ the el’phants, an’ I’m goin’ to ride on the water-lake.”

“Oh, how I likes I should go too!” Eva broke out. O-o-oh, how I likes I should look on them things! On’y I don’t know do I need a ride on somethings what hollers. I don’t know be they fer me.”

“Well, I’ll take ye with me if your mother leaves you go,” said Patrick grandly. “An’ ye can hold me hand if ye’re scared.”