And he wrote "White Swan" on one chip, "Peac.o.c.k" on another, and "Arrow"
on the last. Then he held them towards the children.
"The smallest must choose first," he said, and Hepzebiah took one of the little white pieces of wood from the Toyman"s hand. He turned it over and read:
"White Swan."
"We"d go a good ways before we"d get a better name," he decided. "When the boat"s all finished and all sails set, she"ll sail away just like a swan; you see if she doesn"t."
The hull of the boat was finished now, and on the bow, at the very front, he nailed a thin little stick, with tiny nails. This was the bowsprit.
On the keel at the very bottom, he fastened a piece of lead so she wouldn"t "turn turtle"--turn over, he meant, when her sails were set and the wind blew too hard.
Then choosing some sticks--very carefully, for they must be straight--he tucked the boat under his arm and, with the three children close at his heels, walked over to the pond and sat down under the Crying Tree, where the sun shone bright and warm.
Out came the magic knife and he whittled away at the little sticks; whittled and whistled and smiled all the time.
Sliver after sliver of the wood fell on the ground. Sometimes one would drop into the water and float away like a fairy canoe, with the green willow leaves that fell from the Crying Tree.
So under the magic knife the little ship grew and grew, till the masts were fitted too, and set fast and tight in the clean smooth deck.
"But where are the sails?" asked Jehosophat impatiently.
A funny answer the Toyman made.
He just said:
"Hold your horses, Sonny."
The teacher in the Red Schoolhouse up the road would have reproved him for this, but the children thought whatever the Toyman said was all right.
Of course he meant not to be too impatient and--but just then the dinner horn sounded, way out over the pond and over the fields, and the children ran into the house, just as you would have done too.
It didn"t take long to finish dinner that day. For desert they had blackberry pie, very juicy and nice, and they didn"t even wait to wash the red marks of that pie from their faces but just ran for the Crying Tree.
The Toyman felt in all of his six big pockets. And out came needles and thread, and pieces of clean muslin besides.
St.i.tch, st.i.tch, st.i.tch went his fingers, for a thousand st.i.tches or more.
And bye and bye the sails were all cut and sewed and fitted on the three little masts.
Then the Toyman stopped.
"We haven"t christened her yet," he said. "We should have done that long ago."
In his pockets he rummaged again, those pockets which always held just the right thing. It was a small bottle this time, all filled with tiny pink pills. Much nicer these were, the children thought, than that yellow stuff in the big bottle they hated so.
The Toyman poured the little pills out.
"What"s the use of medicine on a nice day like this," said he.
And he filled the bottle with water and put back the stopper.
"When ships are launched," he explained, "folks break a bottle over the bow when they name her."
"All right, I"ll do that," said Jehosophat, but the Toyman stopped him.
"Hold on there, Sonny, that"s the _ladies"_ job."
Then he called Hepzebiah and gave her the bottle.
"Now, little girl, you stand here and say: "I christen thee White Swan.""
But, "I ckwithen Wite Thwan" was the best she could do.
"Now drop the bottle!"
She opened her fingers and, sure enough, the little bottle fell right on the deck and broke all in little pieces, and the glistening drops splashed over the bow, and so the good ship "White Swan" got her name.
Into the water the Toyman pushed the little ship. The wind filled her sails and off she went, racing away before the wind to join the beautiful birds for whom she had been named.
Around the pond and over the bridge went the Toyman, to the other side.
When the ship reached the opposite sh.o.r.e he swung it around and sent it back on the return voyage. The "White Swan" had reached port safely, when the Toyman said:
"It"s funny what different opinions folks have. Some like the water and some don"t. Now the swans and the ducks, and that little ship, and the fish, and the froggies, and Uncle Roger, and you and I, we think it"s fine.
But Mr. Stuck-up, and Miss Crosspatch, and Old Mother Wyandotte, and Mis"
Fizzeltree, why they won"t go near it at all."
"That _is_ funny," said Jehosophat.
Then the Toyman added:
"Just listen to that."
Old Mother Wyandotte was right near them, clucking in fright.
"Don"t--don"t--don"t you do it!" she was calling to one of her children who was looking longingly at the cool pond.
Around her were all her children, fast growing up now. They were all soft and white but one. Like good little chickens they were looking for bugs, all but one.
_He_ was the little fellow they had noticed before, the funny little fellow with a longer bill than the rest, and the odd-looking feet. His soft downy back was turning black. And he was starting for that pretty water shining in the pond.
Jehosophat looked him all over.
"Why, he looks like a duck."
"What did you expect?" laughed the Toyman. "He is a duck. Old Mother Wyandotte thinks he"s her child, but he"s only a step-child. Ha! Ha!
Somebody must have put another egg in her nest."
Over in the garden were pretty flowers called Bleeding Hearts. They were very pink, and Jehosophat"s face turned the very same colour. Well _he_ knew who had stolen into the House of the White Wyandottes and put that big duck"s egg under Old Mother Hen. And now it had turned out a real little duckling, that black little fellow Mother Wyandotte was scolding so.