Story-3

Now don’t think that our famous Organization, having shown its worth on so many occasions, sat down without thinking of doing anything again. No, sir! Not this bunch! If a boy or girl thought of any addition to Branton Hills’ popularity it was brought to Mayor Gadsby for consultation. And so, as Lucy Donaldson on a trip through a patch of woods, saw a big stag looking out from a clump of shrubs, nothing would do but to rush to His Honor to pour what thoughts that charming sight had brought up in this bright young mind. So, as Gadsby stood at City Hall’s front door, this palpitating, gushing young girl ran towards him, panting and blowing from a long run

“I want a zoo!”

“A WHAT?”

“A ZOO!! You know! A park with stags and all kinds of wild animals; and a duck pond, and, and, and”

“Whoa! Slow down a bit! Do you want an actual zoo, or an outfit of toys that wind up and growl?”

“I want a truly, out-and-out, big zoo. Why can’t you build walls around a part of City Park, and...”

Gadsby saw that this was an addition which nobody had thought of, until now; so, grasping his young visitor’s hand, joyfully, said:-

“It’s a fact, Lucy!! And, as you thought of it, I’ll call it, —now wait; —what shall I call it? Aha! That’s it! I’ll call it ‘Lucy Zoo’. How’s that for quick thinking?”

“My! That’s just grand; but what will Papa say?”

Now Gadsby had known Lucy’s family from boyhood, so said:—“You inform your dad that at any sign of balking by him, I’ll put HIM in Lucy Zoo, and pay a boy to prod him with a sharp stick, until his approval is in my hands.” This brought such a rollicking laugh that a man mowing City Hall lawn had to laugh, too.

Now, (Ah! But I can’t avoid saying it!) our Organization was out again; but, now having grown a bit from such childish youths as had, at first stood in its ranks, a boy, now approaching manhood, and a girl, now a young woman, could solicit funds with an ability to talk knowingly in favor of any factor that a hanging-back contributor could bring up in running down such a proposition. You can always count on finding that class in any city or town upon any occasion for public works; but I can proudly say that many saw good in our Organization’s plan; and Lucy soon found that out, in Old Lady Flanagan.

“Whoops! A zoo, is it? And pray, phwat can’t thot crazy Gadsby think up? If our big Mayor had four sich bys as I brought into this woild; worra, worra! his parlor, halls, dinin’ room an back yard’d furnish him wid a zoo, all right! Wid two always a-scrappin’ about a ball bat or a sling shot; a brat continually a-bawlin’ about nuthin’; an’ a baby wid whoopin’ cough, I know phwat a zoo is, widout goin’ to City Park to gawk at a indigo baboon, or a pink tom cat.”

“But,” said Lucy, trying hard not to laugh; “Mayor Gadsby isn’t thinking of putting in pink tom cats, nor any kind of tom cats in this zoo. It is for only wild animals.”

“WILD!! Say, if you could look into my back door as Old Man Flanagan quits work, an brings back a load o’ grog, you’d find thot you had wild animals roight in this town, all

roight, all roight.”

But, as on so many occasions, this charming girl got a contribution, with Old Lady Flanagan calling out from a front window:-

“Good luck, Lucy darlin’! I’m sorry I was so dom cranky!”

But though popular opinion was in favor of having a zoo, popular opinion didn’t hand in donations to within four thousand dollars of what it would cost to install; and Gadsby and his “gang” had to do a bit of brain racking, so as not to disappoint lots of good folks who had paid in. Finally, Sarah Young thought of a rich woman living just across from City Park. This woman, Lady Standish, was of that kind, loving disposition which would bring in a cold, hungry, lost pup, or cat, and fill it up with hot food and milk. Branton Hills kids could bring any kind of a hurt or sick animal or bird; and Sarah had long known that that back yard was, actually, a small zoo, anyway; with dogs, cats, poultry, two robins too young to fly, four sparrows and a canary, almost bald. Sarah thought that any woman, loving animals as Lady Standish did, might just thrill at having a big zoo-ful right at hand. So, saying, “I’ll go and find out, right now”, was off as an arrow from a bow. As soon as this kindly woman found out what was on Sarah’s mind, our young solicitor got a loving kiss, with:— “A zoo! Oh! how truly charming! What grand things Mayor Gadsby can think up without half trying!” And Sarah had to grin, thinking of Lucy, and Old Lady Flanagan’s opinion of His Honor! “You may not know it, Sarah,” said Lady Standish, “but John Gadsby and I had a big flirtation, way back in our school days. And HOW downcast poor Johnny was at my finding a husband out of town! But that was long, long ago, darling. So, just to sort of pacify my old pal, John, I’ll gladly put up your missing four thousand; and you go to His Honor and say that I wish him all sorts of good luck with this plan.”

Now, Olympic champions must train continuously, but, customarily, in gymnasiums. But today, folks in Branton Hills’ shopping district had to turn and gasp; for a young woman was sprinting wildly toward City Hall; for Sarah was in a hurry. Gadsby was just coming out, as this girl, as badly blown as Lucy was in asking for a zoo, ran up, calling out:- “I GOT IT!! I GOT IT!!”

“Got what? A fit?”

“No! I got that final four thousand dollars! It’s from Lady Standish, who says that way back in school days, you and—”

“Whoa!! That was back in history?” but Gadsby was blushing, and Sarah was winking, coyly.

Now Gadsby was as fond of his Organization boys and girls as of his own; and Sarah was so radiantly happy that all His Honor could say was:—

“My, now, Sarah! That’s mighty good work! And as I told Lucy I’d call our zoo Lucy Zoo for thinking of it, I’ll find a way to honor you, too. Aha! I’ll put up a big arch, through which all visitors must pass, and call it ‘Sarah Young’s Rainbow Arch.’ How’s that?”

Now Sarah had a bit of natural wit; so quickly said:-

“That’s just grand if you’ll bury that famous pot of gold at its foot, so I can dig it up!”

NOW THAT A Zoo was actually on its way, Gadsby had to call in various groups to talk about what a Zoo should contain. Now, you know that all animals can’t find room in this orthographically odd story; so, if you visit Lucy Zoo, you’ll miss a customary inhabitant, or two. But you’ll find an array worthy of your trip. So a call was put in two big daily journals, asking for bids on animals and birds; and soon, from north, south and criss-cross points, a hunting party or a city with too many zoo animals on hand got in touch with Branton Hills, with proposals for all kinds of animals, from kangaroos to bats; and our Organization had a lot of fun planning how many it could crowd into City Park, without crowding out visitors. Finally a ballot put Lucy’s zoological population as follows:—

First, according to Lucy, “an awfully, AWFULLY big hippopotamus, with a pool for its comfort;” a yak, caribou, walrus, (also with a pool,) a long fox-run, bisons, gnus, stags, (it was a stag, you know, that got this zoo plan going!), alligators, mountain lions, African lions, wild cats, wild boars, llamas, gorillas, baboons, orang-outangs, mandrils; and, according to Gadsby’s boys, a “big gang” of that amusing, tiny mimic always found accompanying hand-organs. Also an aviary, containing condors, buzzards, parrots, ibis, macaws, adjutant birds, storks, owls, quail, falcons, tiny humming birds, a sprinkling of hawks, mocking birds, swans, fancy ducks, toucans; and a host of small singing birds; and oh! without fail, an ostrich family; and, last, but most important of all, a big first cousin of old Jumbo! A big glass building would hold boa constrictors, pythons, cobras, lizards, and so forth; and down in back of all this, an outdoor aquarium, full of goldfish, rainbow trout, various fancy fish and blossoming aquatic plants. All in all it would furnish a mighty amusing and popular spot which would draw lots of out-of-town visitors; and visitors, you know, might turn into inhabitants! And so things finally got around to Inauguration Day; and, knowing that no kid could sit still in school on such an occasion, it was put down for a Saturday; and, so many happy, shouting, hopping, jumping kids stood waiting for His Honor to cut a satin ribbon in front of Sarah Young’s Rainbow Arch, that grown folks had to wait, four blocks back. As Gadsby was roaming around with Lucy, to find if things should start moving, old Pat Ryan, from Branton Hills’ railway station, was hunting for him; finally locating him in a lunch room, and rushing in with:—

“Say! That big hop-skip-and-jump artist is down in my trunk room! I got a punch on my jaw, a crack on my snout, and a kick on my shins a-tryin’ to calm him down!”

“A kick and a punch? What actions!” said Gadsby. “I don’t know of any hop-skip-and- jump artist. How big a man is it?”

“Worra, worra! It ain’t no man at all, at all! It’s that thing what grows in Australia, and—” But Lucy saw light right off; and “laughing fit to kill,” said

“Oh, ho, ho!! I know! It’s that boxing kangaroo you bought from Barnum’s circus!” and a charming girl was doubling up in a wild storm of giggling, ignoring old Pat’s scowls.

“Ah! That’s him, all right,” said Gadsby. “So, Pat, just put him in a burlap bag and ship him to this zoo.”

“Who? I put him in a burlap bag? Say, boss! If I can pick up about six husky guys around that station; and if I can find a canvas, not a burlap, bag; and put on a gas mask, a stomach pad, two shin-guards, and—”

But that crowd at Sarah’s Arch was shouting for Gadsby to cut that ribbon so old Pat had to bag that Australian tornado; and in a way that would not hurt him; for kangaroo actors cost good cash, you know.

So that crowd of kids got in, at last! Now zoo animals can think, just as humans can; and it was amusing to watch a pair of boys staring at a pair of orang-outangs; and a pair of orang-outangs staring back at a pair of boys; both thinking, no doubt, what funny things it saw! And, occasionally, both animal and boy won a point! Now if you think that only young folks find any fun in going to a zoo, you probably don’t go to zoos much; for many a big, rotund capitalist had to laugh at simian antics, though, probably figuring up just how much satisfaction his cash contribution brought him. Many a family woman forgot such things as a finicky child or burning biscuits. All was happy-go-lucky joy; and, at two o’clock, as Branton Hills’ Municipal Band, (a part of Gadsby’s Organization of Youth’s work, you know) struck up a bright march, not a glum physiognomy was found in all that big park.

Gadsby and Lucy had much curiosity in watching what such crashing music would do to various animals. At first a spirit akin to worry had baboons, gorillas, and such, staring about, as still as so many posts; until, finding that no harm was coming from such sounds, soon took to climbing and swinging again. Stags, yaks and llamas did a bit of high-kicking at first; Gadsby figuring that drums, and not actual music, did it. But a lilting waltzing aria did not worry any part of this big zoo family; in fact, a fox, wolf and jackal, in a quandary at first actually lay down, as though music truly “hath charms to calm a wild bosom.”

At Gadsby’s big aquarium visitors found not only fun, but opportunity for studying many a kind of fish not ordinarily found in frying pans; and, though in many lands, snails form a popular food, Lucy, Sarah and Virginia put on furious scowls at a group of boys who thought “Snails might go good, with a nut-pick handy.” (But boys always will say things to horrify girls, you know.) And upon coming to that big glass building, with its boa constrictors, alligators, lizards and so on, a boy grinningly “got a girl’s goat” by wanting to kiss a fifty-foot anaconda; causing Lucy to say, haughtily, that “No boy, wanting to kiss such horrid, wriggly things can kiss us Branton Hills girls.” (Good for you, Lucy! I’d pass up a sixty-foot anaconda, any day, for you.)

In following months many a school class was shown through our zoo’s fascinating paths, as instructors told of this or that animal’s habits and natural haunts; and showing that it was as worthy of sympathy, if ill, as any human. And not only did such pupils obtain kindly thoughts for zoo animals, but cats, dogs and all kinds of farm stock soon found that things had an uncommon look, through a dropping off in scoldings and whippings, and rapidly improving living conditions. But most important of all was word from an ugly, hard-looking woman, who, watching, with an apologizing sniff, a flock of happy birds, said:-

“I’m sorry that I always slap and bawl out my kids so much, for I know, now, that kids or animals won’t do as you wish if you snap and growl too much. And I trust that Mayor Gadsby knows what a lot of good all his public works do for us.”

Now this is a most satisfactory and important thing to think about, for brutality will not,— cannot,—accomplish what a kindly disposition will; and, if folks could only know how quickly a “balky” child will, through loving and cuddling, grow into a charming, happy

youth, much childish gloom and sorrow would vanish; for a man or woman who is ugly to a child is too low to rank as highly as a wild animal; for no animal will stand, for an instant, anything approaching an attack, or any form of harm to its young. But what a lot of tots find slaps, yanks and hard words for conditions which do not call for such harsh tactics! No child is naturally ugly or “cranky.” And big, gulping sobs, or sad, unhappy young minds, in a tiny body should not occur in any community of civilization. Adulthood holds many an opportunity for such conditions. Childhood should not.

Now just a word about zoos. Many folks think that animals in a zoo know no comforts; nothing but constant fright from living in captivity. Such folks do not stop to think of a thing or two about an animal’s wild condition. Wild animals must not only constantly hunt for food, but invariably fight to kill it and to hold it, too; for, in such a fight, a big antagonist will naturally win from a small individual. Thus, what food is found, is also lost; and hunting must go on, day by day, or night by night until a tragic climax—by thirst or starvation. But in a zoo, food is brought daily, with facility for drinking, and laid right in front of hoofs, paws or bills. For small animals, roofs and thick walls ward off cold winds and rain; and so, days of calm inactivity, daily naps without worrying about attack; and a carting away of all rubbish and filth soon puts a zoo animal in bodily form which has no comparison with its wild condition. Lack of room in which to climb, roam or play, may bring a zoo animal to that condition known as “soft”; but, as it now has no call for vigor, and its fighting passions find no opportunity for display, such an animal is gradually approaching that condition which has brought Man, who is only an animal, anyway, to his lofty point in Natural History, today. Truly, with such tribulations, worry, and hard work as Man puts up with to obtain his food and lodging, a zoo animal, if it could only know of our daily grind, would comfortably yawn, thankful that Man is so kindly looking out for it. With similar animals all around it, and, day by day, just a happy growth from cub-hood to maturity, I almost wish that I was a zoo animal, with no boss to growl about my not showing up, mornings, at a customary hour!NOW, AS OUR Organization of Youth is rapidly growing up, a young crowd, too young to join it at first, is coming up; imbibing its “why-not-do-it-now?” spirit. So, as Gadsby stood in front of that big Municipal Auditorium (which that group, you know, had had built), Marian Hopkins, a small girl, in passing by, saw him, and said

“I think Branton Hills ought to buy a balloon.”

“Balloon? Balloon? What would this city do with a balloon? Put a string on it so you could run around with it?”

“No, not that kind of a balloon, but that big, zooming kind that sails way up high, with a man in it.”

“Oh! Ha, ha! You think an aircraft is a balloon! But what would—Aha! An airport?” “Uh-huh; but I didn’t know how to say it.”

“It’s cracky!” said His Honor. “I thought this town was about through improving. But an airport would add a bit to it; now wouldn’t it?”

Marian had a most profound opinion that it would; (if profound opinions grow in such small kids!) so both took a walk to City Hall to hunt up a Councilman or two. Finding four in a Council room, Gadsby said

“Youth, or, I should say, childhood, has just shown that Branton Hills is shy on a most important acquisition,” and Old Bill Simpkins just had to blurt out:— “And, naturally, it calls for cash! CASH!

CASH! CASH!! What will this town amount to if it blows in dollars so fast?”

“And,” said Gadsby, “what will it amount to, if it don’t?”

That put a gag on Old Bill. Councilman Banks, though, was curious to know about Marian’s proposition, saying:— “It is probably a plan for buying Christmas toys for all Branton Hills kids.”

But tiny Marian, with a vigorous stamp of a tiny foot, swung right back with:— “NO, SIR!! Santa Claus will bring us our gifts! But I thought of having a—what did you call it, Mayor Gadsby?”

“This child thinks Branton Hills should build an airport, and I think so, too. If our inhabitants, such as this tot, can think up such things, all adults should pack up, and vanish from municipal affairs. All right, Marian; our City Council, your City Council, my young patriot, will look into this airport plan for you.”

So, as on similar occasions months ago, word that land was again cropping up in Gadsby’s mind, brought out a flood of landlords with vacant lots, all looking forward to disposing of a dump worth two dollars and a half, for fifty thousand. Now an airport must occupy a vast lot of land, so cannot stand right in a City’s shopping district; but finally a big tract was bought, and right in back of tiny Marian’s back yard! Instantly, City Hall was full of applicants for flying Branton Hills’ first aircraft. To Gadsby’s joy, amongst that bunch was Harold Thompson, an old Organization lad, who was known around town as a chap who could do about anything calling for brains. As an airport is not laid out in a day, Harold got busy with paid aviators and soon was piloting a craft without aid; and not only Branton Hills folks, but old aviators, saw in Harold, a “bird-man” of no small ability. And so tiny Marian’s “vision” was a fact; just as “big girl” Lucy’s Zoo; and, as with all big City

affairs, an Inauguration should start it off. Now, on all such affairs you always find a “visitor of honor”; and on this grand day Gadsby couldn’t think of anybody for that important post but Marian. And, as it would occur in August, any day would do, as that is a school vacation month.

And what a mob stood, or sat, on that big airport, waiting for a signal from young Marian which would start Harold aloft, on Branton Hills’ initial flight! Almost all brought a lunch and camp-stools or folding chairs; and, as it was a hot day, thousands of gay parasols, and an array of bright clothing on our school-girls, had that big lot looking as brilliant as a florist’s window at Christmas.

Our young visitor of honor was all agog with joy; and, I think, possibly a touch of vanity; for what child wouldn’t thrill with thousands watching? But though Marian had always had good clothing, coming from a family who could afford it, no tot, in all history, had so glorious an outfit as that which about all Branton Hills’ population saw on that platform, amidst flags, bunting and our big Municipal Band. As an airship is a simulation of a bird; and as a bird, to a child, is not far from a fairy, Marian had gaudy fairy wings, a radiant cloak of gold, a sparkling gown all aglow with twinkling stars, and a long glass wand, with a star at its top. As soon as all was in condition Gadsby told Marian to stand up. This brought that vast crowd up, also; and Gadsby said:-

“Now hold your wand way up high, and swing it, to signal Harold to start.”

Up shot a tiny arm; and Harold, watching from his cockpit, sang out:-

“CONTACT!!”

A vigorous twist of his ship’s gigantic “fan”, a shout, a roar, a whizz, a mighty cloud of dust, and amid a tornado of clapping, shouts, and band music, Branton Hills was put on aviation’s map. Way, way up, so far as to look as small as a toy, Harold put on a show of banking, rolling and diving, which told Gadsby that, still again, had Branton Hills found profit in what its Organization of Youth, and, now, its small kids, had to say about improving a town.

During that box-lunch picnic, many of our “big girls” brought so much food to Marian that Dad and Ma had to stand guard against tummy pains. And what a glorious, jolly occasion that picnic was! Gay band music, songs, dancing, oratory; and a grand all-round “howdy” amongst old inhabitants and arriving tourists soon was transforming that big crowd into a happy group, such as it is hard to find, today, in any big city: cold, distant, and with no thought by its politicians for anybody in it; and Gadsby found, around that big airport, many a man, woman and child who was as proud of him as was his own family.

I THINK THAT now you should know this charming Gadsby family; so I will bring forth Lady Gadsby, about whom I told you at Gadsby’s inauguration as Mayor; a loyal church woman with a vocal ability for choir work; and, with good capability on piano or organ, no woman could “fill in” in so many ways; and no woman was so willing, and quick to do so. Gadsby had two sons; bright lads and popular with all. Julius was of a studious turn of mind, always poring through books of information; caring not what kind of information it was, so long as it was information, and not fiction. Gadsby had thought of his growing up as a school instructor, for no work is so worthy as imparting what you know to any who long to study. But William! Oh, hum!! Our Mayor and Lady Gadsby didn’t know just what to do with him; for all his thoughts clung around girls and fashions in clothing: Probably our High School didn’t contain a girl who didn’t think that, at no distant day, Bill Gadsby would turn, from a callow youth, into a “big catch” husband; for a Mayor’s son in so important a city as ours was a mark for any girl to shoot at. But Bill was not of a marrying disposition; loving girls just as girls, but holding out no hand to any in particular. Always in first class togs, without missing a solitary fad which a young man should adopt, Gadsby’s Bill was a lion, in his own right, with no girl in sight who had that tact through which a lasso could land around his manly throat. Gadsby had many a laugh, looking back at his own boyhood days, his various flirtations, and such wild, throbbing palpitations as a boy’s flirtations can instill; and looking back through just such ogling groups as now sought his offspring; until a girl, oh, so long ago, had put a stop to all such flirtations, and got that lasso on “with a strangling hold,” as Gadsby says; and it is still on, today! But this family was not all boys. Oh, my, no! Two girls also sat around that family board. First, following William, was Nancy, who, as Gadsby laughingly said, “didn’t know how to grow;” and now, in High School, was “about as big as a pint of milk;” and of such outstanding charm that Gadsby continually got solicitations to allow photographing for soft-drink and similar billboard displays.

“No, sir!! Not for any sort of pay!! In allowing public distribution of a girl’s photo you don’t know into what situations said photos will land. I find, daily, photographs of girls blowing about vacant lots, all soggy from rains; also in a ditch, with its customary filth; or stuck up on a brick wall or drawn onto an imaginary body showing a brand of tights or pajamas. No, sir!! Not for my girl!!”

Fourth in this popular family was Kathlyn, of what is known as a “classical mold;” with a brain which, at no distant day, will rank high in Biology and Microscopy; for Kathlyn was of that sort which finds fascination in studying out many whats and whys amongst that vast array of facts about our origin. This study, which too many young folks avoid as not having practical worth had a strong hold on Kathlyn, who could not sanction such frivolous occupations as cards, dancing, or plain school gossip. Not for an instant! Kathlyn thought that such folks had no thoughts for anything but transitory thrills. But in Biology!! Ah!! Why not study it, and find out how a tiny, microscopic drop of protoplasm, can, through unknown laws grow into living organisms, which can not only go on living, but can also bring forth offspring of its kind? And not only that. As said offspring must combat various kinds of surroundings and try various foods, why not watch odd

variations occur, and follow along, until you find an animal, bird, plant or bug of such a total dissimilarity as to form practically, a class actually apart from its original form? Kathlyn did just that; and Gadsby was proud of it; and, I think, just a bit curious on his own part as to occasional illustrations in this studious young lady’s school books!

Now it is known by all such natural “faddists” that any such a study has points in common with a branch akin to it; and Kathlyn was not long in finding out that Biology, with its facts of animal origin, could apply to a practical control of bugs on farms. (This word, “bugs,” is hardly Biological; but as Kathlyn is in this story, with its strict orthographical taboo, “bugs” must unavoidably supplant any classical nomination for such things.)

So, Mayor Gadsby sought Branton Hills’ Council’s approval for a goodly sum; not only for such control, but also for study as to how to plant, in ordinary soil, and not risk losing half a crop from worms, slugs and our awkwardly-brought-in “bugs.” This appropriation was a sort of prod, showing this Council that publicity of any first-class kind was good for a city; and was casting about for anything which would so act, until Gadsby’s son, Bill, (who, you know, thought of nothing but girls and “dolling up,”) found that Branton Hills had no distinction of its own in outfits for man or woman, so why not put up a goal of, say fifty dollars, for anybody who could think up any worthy “stunt” in clothing; which should go out as “Branton Hills’ This” or “Branton Hills’ That.” Possibly just a form of hat- brim, a cut of coat-front, or a sporting outfit. And our worthy Council did put up that goal, and many brought all sorts of plans to City Hall. And Bill won, by thinking up a girls’ (always girls, with Bill!) hiking outfit, consisting of a skirt with a rain-proof lining, which could, during a storm, form a rain-suit by putting it on, as Bill said, “by substituting outwards for inwards.” (This will hit Bill amusingly, as days go by!) Going with it was a shirt with a similar “turn-out” facility, and a hiking boot with high tops as guards against thorns and burs; but which, by undoing a clasp, would slip off; and, LO!! you had a low- cut Oxford for ordinary occasions! In about a month a big cotton mill had work going full blast on “Branton Hills’ Turn-it-out Sport and Hiking Outfit,” and a small boot-shop got out a pair of Bill’s “two-part boots,” though saying that it would “probably fall apart without warning!” But Kathlyn put on a pair and found it most satisfactory for a long, rough hill-climb, hunting for bird and animal forms for Biological study. This proof of Branton Hills’ goods was soon known in surrounding towns, and that critical boot-shop and big cotton mill had hard work to fill calls from Canada, Holland, Russia, Spain and Australia! And Bill was put upon Branton Hills’ Roll of Honor.

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