although several parties were got up, Freddy decided it didn’t pay. “The overhead is too high,” Freddy said.
One day Freddy and Jinx were sitting inside the shed. It was a very hot day and they had talked for a while, and then Jinx had curled up and gone to sleep, and Freddy had started to look at a map of the arctic regions that a dog whose master kept a magazine stand had brought in and exchanged for a personally conducted tour through Scenic Centerboro. This was a very popular trip with dogs and cats, and would have been with other animals too, but the company didn’t like to have its animal sightseers become too conspicuous. And so, of course, they couldn’t go into towns and cities much. If people saw a party of dogs admiring the Centerboro Public Library—which was really very beautiful, built in the Gothic style—they wouldn’t pay much attention to them. But if a party of rabbits or squirrels did the same thing, children would throw stones, and people would try to catch them, or at least would stare and make remarks, and it would be very unpleasant. And that would be bad for the company, because other animals would hear about it and wouldn’t want to go on the tours.
While Freddy was poring sleepily over the map inside the shed, Charles, the rooster, was sitting on the fence outside, watching for customers. Charles liked the sound of his own voice pretty well, and when there wasn’t anybody round to listen, he sometimes talked to himself. “Dear me,” he was saying, “it is hot. Yes indeed, very hot. I do hope we’ll get a shower to lay the dust.” He kept saying this over and over. He was very economical and never wasted his best conversation on himself. Sometimes of course he said quite a good thing by mistake, but then he would save it up until someone came along and repeat it as if he had just thought of it.
By and by he saw something moving away off down the empty road. It got larger and larger, and pretty soon he saw it was a big grey farm horse. “Good gracious!” said Charles. “I wonder who that is. He walks very slowly, as if he were tired. He must have come a long way. Maybe he wants to take a tour.
“Good afternoon, horse,” he said pleasantly when the animal had come near enough. “You a stranger in these parts?”
The horse did not answer, but came clumping stolidly along until he was opposite the shed.
Charles was naturally a little put out at being snubbed by a horse and he jumped down from the fence and walked out into the road. The horse saw him and stopped. “Excuse me, friend,” he said. “Can you tell me if this is the place where there’s a company that arranges trips for animals?”
“This is the place,” said Charles, “and I’m part of the company. What can I do for you? We plan your vacations for you, tell you what to see and how to see it, conduct you to all points of greatest int—”
The horse shook his head slowly. “Ain’t heard a word,” he interrupted. “I know you’re talkin’ ’cause I can see your beak move, but I ain’t as young as I was, and I’m gettin’ a little deef. Just hop up on my back like a good feller, and then we can talk comfortable.”
As soon as Charles realized that the horse hadn’t heard his first greeting and wasn’t trying to snub him at all, he felt more agreeable, and he did as the other requested and repeated his remarks at greater length. But the horse still seemed doubtful.
“I understood there was a pig was president of this concern,” he said. “I’d like to see him, I guess.”
Charles glanced at the shed, from which came the mingled snores of one pig and one cat. “Our president is in conference just at present,” he said importantly. “I’m afraid you couldn’t see him without an appointment. But I am authorized to act for the company in these matters. If you tell me where you wish to go—”
“H’m,” said the horse. “Well, I ain’t ever got much information out of any rooster before—nor any information, for the matter of that, except maybe about what a smart feller he was, but maybe you’re different. Anyway, I come a long way, and I don’t want to go back empty-hoofed, so to speak. Ye see, I’m just a plain farm worker—have been all my life. I’ve worked hard. Now I’m gettin’ old and I can’t work like I used to, but while I still got some of my faculties, I’d like to see a little of the world. That’s reasonable, ain’t it?”
“Very commendable,” said Charles.
“And so here I am. Now what kind of trips have you got?”
“Well, from what you say, I suppose you want a long trip, and the only long trip we’re planning just now is one to Florida this winter. Our president is going to take this party himself. He’s a seasoned traveller and has had a great deal of experience in conducting tours, and he knows everything there is to know about Florida. Of course it is a long trip and therefore rather more expensive than some of the—”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” interrupted the horse. “I’m poor. I haven’t got anything to pay for the trip with.”
“Oh, surely we can arrange that,” said Charles. “Our charges are not excessive. A small bag of oats, or a bale of hay—”
“The farmer where I live is poor, too,” the horse replied. “And as I don’t do as much work as I used to, I don’t get any more oats and hay than just barely enough to get along on. I can’t save any of it. But I thought maybe I could work it out. I’d be willing to come over either before or after the trip and do, say, ten good days’ work. I’m still strong and hearty. I wouldn’t skimp ye on my part of the bargain.”
“Dear me,” said Charles, “that’s very awkward—very awkward indeed. No, I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid that wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. Our rules are very strict, and our terms are strictly cash in advance.”
“Ah,” said the horse thoughtfully. “Well. I guess that finishes it, then. I thought maybe we could strike a bargain. But if that’s the case—”
“I’m sorry,” said Charles firmly. “But we have to be business-like, or where would we be? There’s nothing personal in it, you understand—”
“Oh sure, I understand,” said the horse impatiently. “Hop down now, I’ve got a long way to travel before night. Good day to ye. That’s what I get for talking to a rooster, anyway.” And he clumped off down the road.
Charles resumed his perch on the fence. “Stupid animal!” he said to himself. “Who ever heard of such a thing! Just like all of ’em: trying to get something for nothing. Oh, this being in business is not so easy. It takes lots of cleverness and tact and ability. It’s a lucky day for the company when they got me to interview these animals. Why, suppose Freddy had been out here. For all his cleverness, he’s not such a fine business man. Just between you and me, Charles, you handled that horse pretty well.”
The longer Charles thought about it, the more pleased with himself he became, and finally he got so puffed up with pride that he went in and waked Freddy up and told him about it. But, to his amazement, Freddy was not at all pleased.
“What!” he exclaimed, “he offered to work his way on the trip, and you sent him away? Why, you ninny, that’s the best idea I’ve heard since the company started. Why, you miserable fowl you, you oaf, you—you umph!”
“Umph” is a word that pigs use only when they are thoroughly disgusted with people. If a pig calls you an umph, you have a right to get mad about it—unless, of course, you happen to be one. Charles ruffled up the feathers in his neck and started to get mad, but before he could think of anything sarcastic to say, Freddy pushed him aside, crawled through the fence, and trotted
