Chapter 17

It was late in the afternoon when Freddy and the mice and the ducks finally got home. The Beans had gone out for a drive, so all the farm animals gathered in the cow barn, and Freddy told them about their adventures. Uncle Wesley was a good deal of bother, because he kept interrupting all the time to tell what he had thought or what he had done. For since his parachute jump, there had been no holding him. He seemed to believe firmly that it had been his idea to jump, and that Alice and Emma had jumped only because they had been shamed into it by his courageous example.

At last, after about the twentieth interruption, Freddy turned on him. “Look here, Uncle Wesley,” he said. “If you’re coming back to live on this farm, the time has come for you to hear some straight talk. We never used to call your bluffs, because Alice and Emma believed in you, and we didn’t want to hurt them. But they know now that you aren’t the hero you pretend to be.”

“Well, well, well,” said Uncle Wesley, swelling up angrily. “That sort of talk comes well from you, I must say. You didn’t jump out of any balloon.”

“No, but I wasn’t pushed out by mice, either,” said Freddy.

“Nonsense! Pushed out by mice indeed! I never heard—”

“All right,” said Freddy. “We’ll settle it right now. If you’ll go up and jump out of the upper barn door, I won’t say another word.”

“I guess that’s all you can do now, Wesley,” said Mrs. Wiggins.

“Balderdash!” exclaimed the duck. “I refuse to be a party to any such ridiculous performance. Come, Alice—Emma! If these animals can’t show a proper respect for my dignity and my standing in the community, I shall have to refuse to allow you to have anything to do with them. Come, we will go.”

But Alice and Emma didn’t move.

“Maybe you’d better jump, Uncle Wesley,” said Emma after a moment,” Uncle Wesley isn’t afraid,” she said to Mrs. Wiggins, “He just feels that he doesn’t want to be forced to do something that is beneath his dignity.”

“Oh, my land!” said Mrs. Wiggins impatiently. “What does he think he is—a judge of the Supreme Court or something? I don’t say anything against dignity, though land knows I never could manage to have much, but when somebody calls you a coward, is it undignified to prove he’s wrong?”

Alice looked at Emma, and the two sisters turned and waddled up the stairs and disappeared in the loft above. A minute later the other animals, looking out through the doorway, saw them come sailing gracefully down through the air. Alice even turned a somersault before they landed in the barnyard. Then they came back into the barn.

… saw them com sailing gracefully down through the air.

There was a good deal of applause, but Uncle Wesley merely glared.

“The most undignified performance I ever hope to see,” he said cuttingly. “I am really at a loss to account for the change in you two since I have been away. Goodness knows I spared no pains in your upbringing, and I felt that I could always count on you to be modest and ladylike in your behavior. But this—this tomboyish exhibition, and at your years—”

“Stop!” said Alice suddenly.

Uncle Wesley’s bill dropped open and he stared at her in amazement. “You—you interrupted me!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, I did,” replied Alice. “And I might as well tell you, Uncle Wesley, that we have indeed changed since you’ve been away. As long as we believed that you were as gallant and fearless as you said you were, we were willing to do as you said. But we have found you out. Perhaps, because you are our uncle, we might still be willing to be guided by you in all our actions. But I think now we have our own dignity to consider. And so we have decided—Emma and I—that while we will be glad to have you come back and live with us again, in the future you will do as we say.”

“To think,” began Uncle Wesley, “that my own flesh and blood—”

“And,” continued Alice, calmly interrupting him again, “we don’t intend to argue about it. As our friend Jinx says—somewhat vulgarly, I am afraid, but it expresses our meaning—you’ll take it and like it! Am I right, sister?”

“Oh, dear,” said Emma nervously, “it seems terrible, but …” She hesitated, then drew herself up. “You said it, sister!” she exclaimed.

For Uncle Wesley this was the last blow. His head drooped, and he walked to the doorway and stood sadly looking out. Then suddenly he gave a start. “Dear me!” he said. “Why, goodness gracious!” He turned and looked oddly at his nieces. “Why, this is—this is …”

“Good grief, Wesley, what is it?” demanded Mrs. Wiggins.

“The duck stared at her with a sort of wondering look on his face. “I—I don’t quite know how to tell you,” he said. “It just came over me—why, I’m not a hero at all! And I don’t care! Now that’s a strange thing. All these years—” He broke off. “I have always admired heroism very much,” he went on after a moment. “I didn’t know I wasn’t a hero myself. All those things I told you about my bravery—well, I thought they were true, or at least I thought they could be true. But now I see they couldn’t. Dear me, I must be a coward! And what does it matter? Why, it relieves me of a tremendous strain, the strain of always having to act up to something I wasn’t. I’m scared even of Alice and Emma—I’ve always been scared of them: that’s why I bossed them around—so they wouldn’t know it. But I’m getting too old for that. It’s too much work.” He turned to his nieces. “My dears,” he said, “I would like to come back and live with you, if you want me. And I’ll do as you say. Why, I think maybe I’ll have a pretty good time!”

“That’s the kind of talk I like to hear,” said Mrs. Wiggins heartily. “I’m proud of you, Wesley.” And the other animals crowded up and shook hands with him and patted him on the back.

“Why, you like me!” he exclaimed, and began to cry.

“Sure we like you,” said Jinx, “now you’re not a pompous old flutterbudget any more.”

Freddy had heard the Beans drive into the yard some time ago, and now he picked up the two hundred dollars and went out to find Mr. Bean. The farmer was sitting on the front porch while Mrs. Bean could be heard clattering the dishes in the kitchen as she got supper. Freddy went up on the porch and put the packet of bills on the farmer’s knee.

“Eh?” said Mr. Bean, looking at him sharply, and then he took up the bills and counted them. “By cracky!” he said. “By cracky!”

Mr. Bean never said “By cracky!” unless he was pretty deeply moved, and now he had said it twice. Freddy felt very happy, and he went up and rested his chin on Mr. Bean’s knee.

A little while later Mrs. Bean went to the front parlor window and started to rap on it to call Mr. Bean in to supper. But what she saw stopped her. Mr. Bean, with his unlit pipe in his mouth, was rocking peacefully to and fro in the old willow rocker, and Freddy was sitting in his lap.

“Land sakes!” exclaimed Mrs. Bean. And then she laughed a little to herself, and went out and put Mr. Bean’s supper on the back of the stove to keep it warm.