The Story of Freginald

Free The Story of Freginald by Walter R. Brooks

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Authors: Walter R. Brooks
go.” So they shut their eyes and dove.
    The crash they made was a pretty good one, but the guards didn’t hear it, for they were looking over the banisters to see Jerry. Freginald and Leo caught them there and with a good shove sent them rolling down the stairs, horns over tail. Then they sat down to have a good sneezing fit to get the plaster out of their noses.
    But they hadn’t gained much. The hall downstairs was full of the enemy. A goat who had got in the way when Jerry came through the house was lying in a corner with a pillow under his head, but the rest of the animals were pretty mad. Twice they tried to rush the stairs and both times there was a good sharp fight before they were beaten back. And at last a party of dogs came up the back stairs, and Freginald and Leo had to retreat to a big room over the porch which had been Colonel Yancey’s bedroom.

    â€œAnyway,” said Leo, “we can see what is going on from here, and we couldn’t from the stairs.” So they propped a bureau against the door and went to the window.
    The bull had re-formed his company and drawn them up about the house. A few had been cut off and chased into the woods, and the alligators and Uncle Bill had put several others out of commission. On the other hand, Oscar, who had done a good deal of damage in the open fighting by chasing the cattle and kicking them, had finally sprained his toe. And a Mr. Gissing, one of the stablemen, had been tossed into a tree by the bull and wouldn’t come down again.
    For a moment the battle was at a standstill. The bull hesitated to risk another charge, and Mr. Boomschmidt didn’t like to order even the elephants to advance upon the forest of sharp horns. And while they were getting their breath, there was a loud crash, and two small crashes, and then a terrible crash. And there was Jerry. He had run half a mile before he realized that he had gone through the house. Because he had had his eyes shut. So then he turned around and shut his eyes and came back through it again.
    He came up to Mr. Boomschmidt and said: “How’m I doing, boss?”
    â€œFine, Jerry. Fine,” said Mr. Boomschmidt. “Isn’t he doing fine, Hannibal?”
    â€œShall I take another crack at it?” asked Jerry.
    â€œWell, if you think it’s all right,” said Mr. Boomschmidt. “I don’t want you to get a headache, Jerry. Goodness, it makes my head ache just to watch you.”
    â€œPooh!” said Jerry. “A little old frame house! Takes more than that to make my head ache.”
    â€œHe hasn’t got much to ache, you know, sir,” said Hannibal.
    â€œOh, is that so!” said the rhinoceros. And then he thought a minute and said: “Is that so!” Rhinoceroses are never much good at repartee. Their minds are too slow. Although if Jerry could have gone off by himself to think it over for half an hour, he would probably have come back with something pretty good. Hannibal slapped him good-naturedly on the back with his trunk. “Sorry, old boy,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. See here, suppose I aim you this time. If you hit one of those pillars, something’s going to ache, and ache hard.” So he aimed Jerry, and said: “One, two, three—go!” And Jerry drove at the house again, puffing like a steam engine, and there were four crashes as before, but this time they were followed by a crackling and splitting sound, and one corner of the house leaned over toward the ground.
    At this the bull stepped out in the open space between the two parties. “Hey, look here,” he growled. “No sense smashing our house down. Let’s settle this sensibly. I’ll fight any one of your party you name. If I win you hand over my lieutenant and go away. If I lose, we give up the lion and the bear. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
    â€œWhy, good gracious, yes,” said Mr. Boomschmidt.

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