<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></SPAN>CHAPTER X.</h2>
<p class="center">RIBSY.</p>
<p>The road was very dreary and dusty, and wound in and out in the most
tiresome way until it seemed to have no end to it, and Davy ran on and
on, half expecting at any moment to feel the Roc's great beak pecking
at his back. Fortunately his legs carried him along so remarkably well
that he felt he could run for a week; and, indeed, he might have done
so if he had not, at a sharp turn in the road, come suddenly upon a
horse and cab. The horse was fast asleep when Davy dashed against him,
but he woke up with a start, and, after whistling like a locomotive
once or twice in a very alarming manner, went to sleep again. He was a
very frowsy-looking horse, with great lumps at his knees and a long,
crooked neck like a camel's; but what attracted Davy's attention
particularly was the word "<span class="smcap">Ribsy</span>" painted in whitewash on his side in
large letters. He was looking at this, and wondering if it were the
horse's name, when the door of the cab flew open and a man fell out,
and, after rolling over in the dust, sat up in the middle of the road
and began yawning. He was even a more ridiculous-looking object than
the horse, being dressed in a clown's suit, with a morning-gown over
it by way of a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</SPAN></span>
top-coat, and a field-marshal's cocked hat. In fact,
if he had not had a whip in his hand no one would ever have taken him
for a cabman. After yawning heartily he looked up at Davy, and said
drowsily, "Where to?"</p>
<p>"To B.G.," said Davy, hastily referring to the Hole-keeper's letter.</p>
<p>"All right," said the cabman, yawning again. "Climb in, and don't put
your feet on the cushions."</p>
<p>Now, this was a ridiculous thing for him to say, for when Davy stepped
inside he found the only seats were some three-legged stools huddled
together in the back part of the cab, all the rest of the space being
taken up by a large bath-tub that ran across the front end of it. Davy
turned on one of the faucets, but nothing came out except some dust
and a few small bits of gravel, and he shut it off again, and, sitting
down on one of the little stools, waited patiently for the cab to
start.</p>
<p>Just then the cabman put his head in at the window, and, winking at
him confidentially, said, "Can you tell me why this horse is like an
umbrella?"</p>
<p>"No," said Davy.</p>
<p>"Because he's used <i>up</i>," said the cabman.</p>
<p>"I don't think that's a very good conundrum," said Davy.</p>
<p>"So do I," said the cabman. "But it's the best one I can make with
this horse. Did you say N.B.?" he asked.</p>
<p>"No, I said B.G.," said Davy.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</SPAN></span>
"All right," said the cabman again, and disappeared from the window.
Presently there was a loud trampling overhead, and Davy, putting his
head out at the window, saw that the cabman</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i022.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="380" alt=""THE CABMAN HAD CLIMBED UP ON TOP OF THE CAB AND WAS THROWING STONES AT THE HORSE."" title=""THE CABMAN HAD CLIMBED UP ON TOP OF THE CAB AND WAS THROWING STONES AT THE HORSE."" /> <span class="caption">"<small>THE CABMAN HAD CLIMBED UP ON TOP OF THE CAB AND WAS THROWING STONES AT THE HORSE.</small>"</span></div>
<p>had climbed up on top of
the cab and was throwing stones at the horse, which was still sleeping
peacefully.</p>
<p>"It's all right," said the cabman, cheerfully, as he caught sight of
Davy. "If he doesn't start pretty soon I'll give him some snuff. That
<i>always</i> wakes him up."</p>
<p>"Oh! don't do that," said Davy, anxiously. "I'd rather get out and
walk."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</SPAN></span>
"Well, I wish you would," said the cabman, in a tone of great relief.
"This is a very valuable stand, and I don't care to lose my place on
it;" and Davy accordingly jumped out of the cab and walked away.</p>
<p>Presently there was a clattering of hoofs behind him, and Ribsy came
galloping along the road, with nothing on him but his collar. He was
holding his big head high in the air, like a giraffe, and gazing
proudly about him as he ran. He stopped short when he saw the little
boy, and, giving a triumphant whistle, said cheerfully, "How are you
again?"</p>
<p>It seemed rather strange to be spoken to by a cab-horse, but Davy
answered that he was feeling quite well.</p>
<p>"So am I," said Ribsy. "The fact is, that when it comes to beating a
horse about the head with a three-legged stool, if that horse is going
to leave at all, it's time he was off."</p>
<p>"I should think it was," said Davy, earnestly.</p>
<p>"You'll observe, of course, that I've kept on my shoes and my collar,"
said Ribsy. "It isn't genteel to go barefoot, and nothing makes a
fellow look so untidy as going about without a collar. The truth is,"
he continued, sitting down in the road on his hind legs,—"the truth
is, I'm not an ordinary horse, by any means. I have a history, and
I've arranged it in a popular form, in six canters,—I mean cantos,"
he added, hastily correcting himself.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</SPAN></span>
"I'd like to hear it, if you please," said Davy, politely.</p>
<p>"Well, I'm a little hoarse,"—began Ribsy.</p>
<p>"I think you're a very big horse," said Davy, in great surprise.</p>
<p>"I'm referring to my voice," said Ribsy, haughtily. "Be good enough
not to interrupt me again;" and, giving two or three preliminary
whistles to clear his throat, he began:—</p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" width="70%" summary="">
<tr>
<td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>It's very confining, this living in stables</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And passing one's time among wagons and carts</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>I much prefer dining at gentlemen's tables</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And living on turkeys and cranberry tarts</i>.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>I find with surprise that I'm constantly sneezing</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>I'm stiff in the legs, and I'm often for sale</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And the blue-bottle flies, with their tiresome teasing</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Are quite out of reach of my weary old tail</i>.</span><br/>
</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<p>"By the way," said Ribsy, getting up and turning himself around, "what
does my tail look like?"</p>
<p>"I think," said Davy, after a careful inspection, "I think it looks
something like an old paint-brush."</p>
<p>"So I supposed," said Ribsy, gloomily, and, sitting down again, he
went on with his history:—</p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" width="70%" summary="">
<tr>
<td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>As spry as a kid and as trim as a spider</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Was I in the days of the Turnip-top Hunt</i>,</span><br/>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</SPAN></span>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>When I used to get rid of the weight of my rider</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And canter contentedly in at the front</i>.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>I never was told that this jocular feature</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Of mine was a trick reprehensibly rude</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And yet I was sold, like a commonplace creature</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>To work in a circus for lodgings and food</i>.</span><br/>
</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<p>"I suppose you have never been a circus-horse?" said Ribsy, stopping
short in his verses again and gazing inquiringly at Davy.</p>
<p>"Never," said Davy.</p>
<p>"Then you don't know anything about it," said Ribsy. "Here we go
again:"—</p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" width="70%" summary="">
<tr>
<td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Pray why, if you please, should a capable charger</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Perform on a ladder and prance in a show?</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And why should his knees be made thicker and larger</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>By teaching him tricks that he'd rather not know?</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Oh! why should a horse, for society fitted</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Be doomed to employment so utterly bad</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And why should a coarse-looking man be permitted</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>To dance on his back on a top-heavy pad?</i></span><br/>
</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<p>Here Ribsy paused once more, and Davy, feeling that he ought to make
some sort of an answer to such a lot of questions, said helplessly, "I
don't know."</p>
<p>"No more do I," said Ribsy, tossing his head scornfully.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" width="70%" summary="">
<tr>
<td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>It made me a wreck, with no hope of improvement</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Too feeble to race with an invalid crab</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>I'm wry in the neck, with a rickety movement</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Peculiarly suited for drawing a cab</i>.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>They pinch me with straps, and they bruise me with buckles</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>They drive me too rapidly over the stones</i>;—</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>A reason, perhaps, why a number of knuckles</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Have lately appeared on my prominent bones</i>.</span><br/>
</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<p>"I see them," cried Davy, eagerly; "I thought they were corns."</p>
<p>"Thank you," said Ribsy, haughtily. "As the next verse is the last you
needn't trouble yourself to make any further observations."</p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" width="70%" summary="">
<tr>
<td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>I dream of a spot which I used to roam over</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>In infancy's days, with a frolicsome skip</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Content with my lot, which was planted with clover</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And never annoyed by the crack of a whip</i>.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>But I think my remarks will determine the question</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Of why I am bony and thin as a rail</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>I'm off for some larks, to improve my digestion</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And point the stern moral conveyed by my tail</i>.</span><br/>
</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<p>Here Ribsy got upon his legs again, and, after a refreshing fillip
with his heels, cantered off along the road, whistling as he went. Two
large blue-bottle flies were
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</SPAN></span>
on his back, and his tail was flying
around, with an angry whisk, like a pin-wheel; but, as he disappeared
in the distance, the flies were still sitting calmly on the ridge of
his spine, apparently enjoying the scenery.</p>
<p>Davy was about to start out again on his journey, when he heard a
voice shouting "Hi! Hi!" and, looking back, he saw the poor cabman
coming along the road on a brisk trot, dragging his cab after him. He
had on Ribsy's harness, and seemed to be in a state of tremendous
excitement.</p>
<p>As he came up with Davy the door of the cab flew open again, and the
three-legged stools came tumbling out, followed by a dense cloud of
dust.</p>
<p>"Get in! Get in!" shouted the cabman, excitedly. "Never mind the dust;
I've turned it on to make believe we're going tremendously fast."</p>
<p>Davy hastily scrambled in, and the cabman started off again. The dust
was pouring out of both faucets, and a heavy shower of gravel was
rattling into the bath-tub; and, to make matters worse, the cabman was
now going along at such an astonishing speed that the cab rocked
violently from side to side, like a boat in a stormy sea. Davy made a
frantic attempt to shut off the dust, but it seemed to come faster and
faster, until he was almost choked, and by this time the gravel had
become as large as cherry-stones, and was flying around in the cab and
rattling about his ears like a little hail-storm. Now, all this was a
great deal more than Davy had bargained for,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</SPAN></span>
and it was so very
unpleasant that he presently sat down on the floor of the cab in the
hope of getting a little out of the way of the flying gravel. As he
did this the rocking motion became less violent, and then ceased
altogether, as though the cabman had suddenly come to a stop. Then the
dust cleared away, and Davy, to his surprise, found himself sitting in
the road directly in front of the little house that Jack built.</p>
<p>The cabman and his cab had vanished entirely, but, curiously enough,
the cab door was standing wide open in the wall of the house, just
above the porch, and in the opening stood the red Cow gazing down upon
him, and solemnly chewing, as before. The house had such a familiar
look to him that Davy felt quite at home; and, moreover, the Cow
seemed quite like an old acquaintance, compared with the other
creatures he had met, and he was just about to begin a friendly
conversation with her, when she suddenly stopped chewing, and said,
"How did <i>you</i> get here?"</p>
<p>"I came in a cab," said Davy. "We came along just behind the horse."</p>
<p>"People in cabs usually do," said the Cow; "leastwise I never heard of
any of 'em being ahead of him."</p>
<p>"But this horse was running away, you know," said Davy.</p>
<p>"Where was the cabman?" said the Cow, suspiciously.</p>
<p>"He was drawing the cab," said Davy.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</SPAN></span>
"What!" exclaimed the Cow,—"while the horse was running away? Oh,
come, I say!"</p>
<p>"He was, truly," said Davy, laughing; "you never saw anything half so
ridiculous."</p>
<p>"I certainly never did—that I can remember," said the Cow; "but then,
you see, I haven't always been a cow."</p>
<p>"Really?" said Davy.</p>
<p>"Really," said the Cow, very solemnly. "The fact is, I've been
changed."</p>
<p>"And what did you use to be?" said Davy, who was now fully prepared
for something marvellous.</p>
<p>"A calf," said the Cow, with a curious rumbling chuckle.</p>
<p>"I don't think <i>that's</i> a very good joke," said the disappointed
little boy.</p>
<p>"It's a deal funnier than your cab story," said the Cow. "And, what's
more, it's true! Good-afternoon." And with this the Cow disappeared
from the opening, and the cab door shut to with a loud bang.</p>
<p>Davy sat still for a moment, hoping that Mother Hubbard, or perhaps
the dog, or even the cat, would appear, so that he might explain his
story about the cab. None of them came; but meanwhile a very
extraordinary thing happened, for the house itself began to <i>go</i>.
First the chimneys sank down through the roof, as if they were being
lowered into the cellar. Then the roof itself, with its gables and
dormer windows, softly folded itself flat down upon the top of the
house, out of sight. Then the cab door and the latticed
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</SPAN></span>
windows
fluttered gently for a moment, as if rather uncertain how to dispose
of themselves, and finally faded away, one by one, as if they had been
soaked into the bricks. Then the porch gravely took itself to pieces
and carried itself, so to speak, carefully in through the front door;
and finally the front door went in itself, and nothing was left of the
house that Jack built but a high brick wall, with the climbing roses
running all over it like a beautiful pink vine. All this was so
unexpected and so wonderful that Davy sat quite still, expecting
something marvellous of this wall; but it proved to be a very
matter-of-fact affair, with no intention whatever of doing anything or
going anywhere, and, after watching it attentively for a few moments,
Davy got up and resumed his journey along the road.</p>
<hr style="width: 33%;" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />