Long ago, long before the waylacks lost the wonderful stripes of oat
straw gold and the spots of timothy hay green in their marvelous curving
tail feathers, long before the doo-doo-jangers whistled among the
honeysuckle blossoms and the bitter-basters cried their last and dying
wrangling cries, long before the sad happenings that came later, it was
then, some years earlier than the year Fifty Fifty, that Young Leather and
Red Slippers crossed the Rootabaga Country.
To begin with, they were walking across the Rootabaga Country. And
they were walking because it made their feet glad to feel the dirt of the
earth under their shoes and they were close to the smells of the earth.
They learned the ways of birds and bugs, why birds have wings, why bugs
have legs, why the gladdywhingers have spotted eggs in a basket nest
in a booblow tree, and why the chizzywhizzies scrape off little fiddle songs
all summer long while the summer nights last.
Early one morning they were walking across the corn belt of the Rootabaga
Country singing, “Deep Down Among the Dagger Dancers.” They had just
had a breakfast of coffee and hot hankypank cakes covered with cow’s
butter. Young Leather said to Red Slippers, “What is the best secret we
have come across this summer?”
“That is easy to answer,” Red Slippers said with a long flish of her long
black eyelashes. “The best secret we have come across is a rope of gold
hanging from every star in the sky and when we want to go up we go up.”
Walking on they came to a town where they met a man with a sorry face.
“Why?” they asked him. And he answered, “My brother is in jail.”
“What for?” they asked him again. And he answered again, “My brother put
on a straw hat in the middle of the winter and went out on the streets laughing;
my brother had his hair cut pompompadour and went out on the streets
bareheaded in the summertime laughing; and these things were against the
law. Worst of all he sneezed at the wrong time and he sneezed before the wrong
persons; he sneezed when it was not wise to sneeze. So he will be hanged
to-morrow morning. The gallows made of lumber and the rope made of hemp—
they are waiting for him to-morrow morning. They will tie around his neck the
hangman’s necktie and hoist him high.”
The man with a sorry face looked more sorry than ever. It made Young Leather
feel reckless and it made Red Slippers feel reckless. They whispered to each
other. Then Young Leather said, “Take this dollar watch. Give it to your brother.
Tell him when they are leading him to the gallows he must take this dollar watch
in his hand, wind it up and push on the stem winder. The rest will be easy.”
So the next morning when they were leading the man to be hanged to the
gallows made of lumber and the rope made of hemp, where they were going to
hoist him high because he sneezed in the wrong place before the wrong people,
he used his fingers winding up the watch and pushing on the stem winder. There
was a snapping and a slatching like a gas engine slipping into a big pair of dragon
fly wings. The dollar watch changed into a dragon fly ship. The man who was
going to be hanged jumped into the dragon fly ship and flew whonging away
before anybody could stop him.
Young Leather and Red Slippers were walking out of the town laughing and singing
again, “Deep Down Among the Dagger Dancers.” The man with a sorry face, not
so sorry now any more, came running after them. Behind the man and running
after him were five long-legged spider jack-rabbits.
“These are for you,” was his exclamation. And they all sat down on the stump of
a booblow tree. He opened his sorry face and told the secrets of the five long-legged
spider jack-rabbits to Young Leather and Red Slippers. They waved good-by and
went on up the road leading the five new jack-rabbits.
In the next town they came to was a skyscraper higher than all the other skyscrapers.
A rich man dying wanted to be remembered and left in his last will and testament
a command they should build a building so high it would scrape the thunder clouds
and stand higher than all other skyscrapers with his name carved in stone letters on
the top of it, and an electric sign at night with his name on it, and a clock on the tower
with his name on it.
“I am hungry to be remembered and have my name spoken by many people after
I am dead,” the rich man told his friends. “I command you, therefore, to throw the
building high in the air because the higher it goes the longer I will be remembered
and the longer the years men will mention my name after I am dead.”
So there it was. Young Leather and Red Slippers laughed when they first saw the
skyscraper, when they were far off along a country road singing their old song,
“Deep Down Among the Dagger Dancers.”
“We got a show and we give a performance and we want the whole town to see it,”
was what Young Leather and Red Slippers said to the mayor of the town when they
called on him at the city hall. “We want a license and a permit to give this free show
in the public square.”
“What do you do?” asked the mayor.
“We jump five jack-rabbits, five long-legged spider jack-rabbits over the highest
skyscraper you got in your city,” they answered him.
“If it’s free and you don’t sell anything nor take any money away from us while it
is daylight and you are giving your performance, then here is your license permit,”
said the mayor speaking in the manner of a politician who has studied politics.
Thousands of people came to see the show on the public square. They wished to
know how it would look to see five long-legged, spider jack-rabbits jump over the
highest skyscraper in the city.
Four of the jack-rabbits had stripes. The fifth had stripes—and spots. Before they
started the show Young Leather and Red Slippers held the jack-rabbits one by one
in their arms and petted them, rubbed the feet and rubbed the long ears and ran
their fingers along the long legs of the jumpers.
“Zingo,” they yelled to the first jack-rabbit. He got all ready. “And now zingo!” they
yelled again. And the jack-rabbit took a run, lifted off his feet and went on and on
and up and up till he went over the roof of the skyscraper and then went down and
down till he lit on his feet and came running on his long legs back to the public square
where he started from, back where Young Leather and Red Slippers petted him and
rubbed his long ears and said, “That’s the boy.”
Then three jack-rabbits made the jump over the skyscraper. “Zingo,” they heard
and got ready. “And now zingo,” they heard and all three together in a row, their
long ears touching each other, they lifted off their feet and went on and on and up
and up till they cleared the roof of the skyscraper. Then they came down and down
till they lit on their feet and came running to the hands of Young Leather and Red
Slippers to have their long legs and their long ears rubbed and petted.
Then came the turn of the fifth jack-rabbit, the beautiful one with stripes and spots.
“Ah, we’re sorry to see you go, Ah-h, we’re sorry,” they said, rubbing his long ears and
feeling of his long legs.
Then Young Leather and Red Slippers kissed him on the nose, kissed the last and
fifth of the five long-legged spider jack-rabbits.
“Good-by, old bunny, good-by, you’re the dandiest bunny there ever was,” they
whispered in his long ears. And he, because he knew what they were saying and why
they were saying it, he wiggled his long ears and looked long and steady at them from
his deep eyes.
“Zango,” they yelled. He got ready. “And now zango!” they yelled again. And the fifth
jack-rabbit with his stripes and spots lifted off his feet and went on and on and on and
up and up and when he came to the roof of the skyscraper he kept on going on and
on and up and up till after a while he was gone all the way out of sight.
They waited and watched, they watched and waited. He never came back. He never
was heard of again. He was gone. With the stripes on his back and the spots on his
hair, he was gone. And Young Leather and Red Slippers said they were glad they had
kissed him on the nose before he went away on a long trip far off, so far off he never
came back.
