Home Again

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter ten of and Iiron Tales by John Bangs. This
LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by April
six zero nine zero, California, United States of America. Home
again and now, said the left hand Iron. As the
flamingo flew off and leapt them to themselves, it strikes

(00:22):
me that it is time we set about having some supper.
I'm getting hungry, what with the excitement of that ride
and the fact I haven't eaten anything but a bowlful
of kindling wood since yesterday morning. I'm with you there,
said Tom. I've been hungry ever since we started, and
the snow on the moon wetted my appetite. Never knew

(00:43):
a boy who wasn't hungry on all occasions, puffed the bellows.
Fact is, a boy wouldn't be a real boy unless
he was hungry. Did you ever know a boy that
would confess he'd had enough to eat? Poky? Once, said Poker.
I wrote a poem about him by I never could
get it published. Want to hear it very much, said Tom. Well,

(01:05):
here goes, said the poker anxiously, and he recited the
following lines. The Wondrous strike of Sammy Dike Young Sammy
Dike was a likely boy who lived somewhere in Illinois.
His father was a blacksmith, and his mom made pies
for all the land. The pies were all so very
fine that folks who sought them stood in line before

(01:27):
the shop of Dike and co mid passing rain in
drifting snow, for fear they'd lose the tasty prize of
Dike's new patent homemade pies. One day, alas, poor missus Dyke,
who with her pies had made the strike by overwork,
felt very ill, and all her orders could not fill.

(01:47):
So ill was she she could not pick when half
the pastry folks would take. And so her loving husband
said he'd take her place and cook instead of making horseshoes,
kindly joke to help his wife in time of water.
He worked by night, he worked by day, yet worked
alass in his own way, and made such pies I've
understood as but a simple blacksmith could. He made them

(02:11):
hard as iron bars. He made them tough as trolley cars.
He seemed to think a pie's estate was to be
used as armor plate, And not a pie would he
let go that had not stood the sledges below upon
the anvil in his sanctum, whence nought went out until
he spanked em. Result with many a lass and lack.

(02:33):
The pies Joe made, they all came back from folks
who claimed they could not go the latest pies of
Daik and Co. And here it was that Sammy came
to help his parents in the game. Can't eat em,
cried indignant Joe can't eat em? Well, I want to know.
Here's Sammy? Show these people here, how most unjust? They're plaint,

(02:54):
My dear, Come lad and eat the luscious pies that
I have made, and they despise for loyal Sammy then
began upon those stodgy pies. The plan was very pleasing
in his eyes, for Sammy loved his mother's pies. He
nibbled one, he bit another, and then began to think
of mother. He chewed and nowd he munched and bit,

(03:15):
but no, he could not swallow it. And then, poor child,
it was so tough he had to say he'd had enough.
Though never in the world before was lad who had
not wanted more? And what became of Sammy's maw and
what became of Sammy's paw? Their profits gone? How could
they eke a living good from week to week. They

(03:36):
took the recipe for pies that mother made. Oh so wise,
let father make them in his way in form elliptical,
they say. And when the football season came, when fortune
great and wondrous, fame beyond the wildest hope and dreams
by selling these two football teams, and those by whom
this game is played called them the finest ever made.

(03:59):
The sure good football made of mince has never quite
been inkled since. And few who kicked them with their
feet know they're the pies. Sam couldn't eat the only
pies upon this orb A healthy boy could not absorb.
Grateful on that, eh said the bellows, poking Tom in
the ribs and grinning broadly. Splendid, said Tom new use

(04:21):
for pies. That it's beautifully long, said Lefty. But why
couldn't it be published? Asked righty. Wasn't it long enough?
The editor said it wasn't true, sighed the poker. He
had three boys of his own, you know, And he
said there never was a boy who couldn't eat a pie,
even if it was made of crowbars and rubber, As

(04:42):
long as it was pie. I guess he was right. Observed, Righty.
I knew a boy once who ate soft coal just
because somebody told him it was rock candy. Did he
like it? Asked Tom. I don't think he did, replied Righty,
but he never let on that he didn't. Well anyhow,
put in Lefty, it's time we had something to eat,

(05:03):
and we'd better set out for the lobster shop or
the candy Dike. I don't care which or the what,
asked Tom. The candy Dike, said the left hand iron.
Didn't you ever hear of the candy dike? Never responded Tom,
what is it? It's a candy Clondyke, explained the left
hand iron. Their gum dropped mines and marshmallow loads and

(05:24):
deposits of chocolate creams beyond the dreams of avarice. Remember
I'm righty, oh, murmured Righty, smacking his lips with joy.
Do I remember them? Oh? My, don't? I just why
I never wanted to come back from there. I had
to be pulled out of the peppermint mine with a derrick.
And the river, Oh the river, was there anything ever

(05:47):
like it? Tom's mouth began to water. He knew not
why what about the river? He asked, soda water flowing
from mountain to the sea, returned the right hand iron,
smacking his lips again ecstatically. Just imagine it, Tom, a
great stream of soda water fed by little rivulets of
vanilla and strawberry and chocolate syrup, with here and there

(06:11):
a cream brook feeding the combination, until all you had
to do to get a glass of the finest nectar
ever mixed was to dip your cup into the river,
and there you were. Tom closed his eyes with very
joy at the mere idea. Oh where is this river?
He cried, when he was able to find words to
speak in the candy dike. Of course, where else? Said

(06:32):
the poker. But of course we can go to the
lobster shop if you prefer not, I said Tom. I
don't care for any lobster shop with a candy dike
in sight. Don't be rash, said the bellows, who apparently
had a strong liking for the lobster shop. Of course,
we all love the candy dyke because it is so sweet,
But for real pleasure, the lobster shop is not to

(06:53):
be despised. I don't think you ought to make up
your mind as to where you'll go next, in too
much of a hurry. That's the fun in the lobster shop,
asked Tom. Purely intellectual. If you know what that means,
said the Bellows. You get your mind filled there instead
of your stomach. You meet the wittiest oysters, and the
most poetic clams, and the most literary lobsters at the

(07:15):
lobster shop you ever saw. For my part, I love
the lobster shop. I can get something to eat anywhere.
I can get a steak at any lumber yard in town.
I can get a chop at any ax factory in
the country. And if I want sweets, I can find
a cakeery. Bakery you mean, I said Tom. No, I
don't at all, said the Bellows. I mean cakeery. A

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cakerey is a place where they sell cake. And when
I say cakerey, I mean what I say. Just because
you call it bakery doesn't prove anything. We're out for pleasure,
not for argument, growled the left hand iron. Go on
and say what you've got to say, well, said the Bellows.
What I was trying to say when interrupted was that

(07:58):
you can get your stomach filled almost anywhere, but your
mind that is different. I'm hungry in my mind than
in my stomach. And I'd rather be fed just now
on the jests of an oyster, the good stories of
a clam, and the anecdotes of a lobster, then have
the freedom of the richest marshmallow mine in creation. Well,

(08:18):
I'm sure I don't know what to do, said Tom,
very much perplexed. The candy dyke was glorious, but the
lobster shop too had its attractions. For Tom was fond
of witty jokes and good anecdotes. The idea of having
them from the lips of lobsters and oysters was very appealing,
I say, he said, in a minute, Why isn't the
lobster shop the best place for us to go? After all,

(08:41):
if we are really hungry, we could sit down at
the table, you know, and listen to the lobster's anecdotes
and then eat him afterward. In that way, we could
hear the stories and fill up beside well, I declare,
cried the bellows. What an idea, you most ungrateful boy.
Not at all, said the poker. It's merely the habit

(09:01):
of his kind. Many's the time when I've heard of
men and women devouring their favorite authors. Tom couldn't better
show his liking for the lobster than by eating him.
On the other hand, if he goes there and turns
his back on the Candy Dike, he'll miss the most
wonderful sight in all creation, and that is the nessel
Rod Cataract on the Soda Water River. It is located

(09:24):
at the point where the Vanilla Glacier comes down from
the Cream Mountains on the one side, and the famous
Maren's orchards line the other bank, for a distance of
seven miles. It's a perfectly gorgeous sight, mercy me, cried Tom. Indeed,
I should like to see that, no doubt put in
the bellows. Nevertheless, you can see nessel Rod pudding at

(09:46):
home at any time. But did you ever see there
a turtle that can recite a fairy story of his
own composition? Or a crab capable of narrating the most
thrilling story of the American Revolutionary War that anybody ever dns?
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, said Tom, what shall
I do? As he spoke from far down in the valley,

(10:07):
there seemed to come a crash and a roar following,
close upon which the barking of a dog made itself heard.
The ice is slipping, cried the poker, as the mountain
trembled beneath them. There's going to be an avalanche, and
we're on it. The whole top of the mountain shook
as if it had been in an earthquake, and then
it began to crash rapidly downward. Dear me, how annoying,

(10:31):
observed the bellows. As if we haven't had enough coasting
this trip without taking a turn on an avalanche. But
what shall we do? Roared the andirons excitedly. I never
foresaw this slide, I guess, said the poker, calmly, it's
all we can do. The barking of the dog approached closer, good,

(10:51):
cried Righty, clapping his claws together gleefully as an idea
flashed across his mind. It's one of those famous Saint Bernards.
He'll take care of us, Tom, And as for us,
the thunderous roar of the descending avalanche drowned the sounds
of Righty's voice, and all that could now serve as
a means of conveying their thoughts to each other was

(11:13):
the making of wild motions with the hands the poker
stood erect and stiff, looking grimly ahead of him, as
if resolved to meet his fate bravely, The Bellows threw
himself flat upon the glacier and panted, while the two
and irons, standing guard on either side of Tom, peered
anxiously about for the rescuer of their little guest. Nor

(11:35):
did they look in vain, for in a few moments
the huge figure of a Saint Bernard appeared below them,
rushing with all his might and main to their side.
For some reason or other, the Saint Bernard seemed to
have something familiar about him, but Tom couldn't quite say
what it was. Bow Wow, Wow, the dog barked gleefully,

(11:56):
for this was just the sort of work he most enjoyed.
Strangely enough, Tom seemed to understand dog language for the
first time in his life, for the barque said to him,
as plainly, as you please, climb on my back, sonny,
and I'll have you out of this in a jiffy.
The lad lost not a moment in obeying. Aided by
the affectionate boosts of the Andirons, he soon found himself

(12:18):
lying face downward upon the broad, shaggy back of the
faithful beast. He closed his eyes to shut out the
blinding snow for a moment, and then Tom sat up
and rubbed them, for there was no snow, no avalanche,
no alp, no Saint Bernard dog in sight, only a
friendly pair of andirons staring fixedly at him out of

(12:38):
the fireplace of his father's library, the poker standing like
a grenadier at one side, and the bellows hanging from
a brass headed nail on the other. Beside these lying
on the rug next to him, his head cocked to
one side, his eyes fixed intently upon Tom's face, and
his tail wagging furiously. Was Jeffy not a Saint Bernard,

(12:59):
but a shaggy little Scotch Terrier. Hello, Jeffy, said Tom,
as he rubbed his eyes a second time. Where have
you been all this time? Woof, barked jeff and cocking
his eyes knowingly. And was it you who rescued me
from the avalanche? Tom asked. Woof replied jeff as much
as to say he wouldn't tell. Well, it was mighty

(13:20):
good of you if you did, Jeffy, Tom said, gratefully.
Only I wish you could have taken me to the
Candy Dyke or the Lobster Shop instead of straight home.
I'm not only hungry, Jeffy, but I should very much
have liked to visit those wonderful places. Woof, said Jeffy,
which Tom took to be a promise that his rescuer
would do better next time. The little party has not

(13:42):
been off again since. But the other night some pieces
of newspaper were thrown into the fireplace, and all but
one of them were burned. Righty held this one under
his claw, and Tom, while trying to get a word
out of his friend, caught sight of it. Hello, said Tom,
as he read what was printed on the clipping. The
astronomers at the Lick Observatory have discovered a new constellation

(14:04):
in the southeast heavens. It is of huge dimensions and
resembles in its outlines the figure of a rhinoceros or
some such pachydermatist creature. Oh I never, he cried as
he read. I say, Righty, do you believe that's the
old hippopotamus? And Righty never said a word, but the
look in his eye indicated that he thought there was

(14:24):
something in the notion. End of Chapter ten end of
and Iron Tales by John Bangs