Captain Hammond's "Pinkey" Perkins: Just a Boy stories are one of my favorite series in St. Nicholas. Pinkey (real name Pinkerton) is a mischievous, but never malicious boy in the vein of Penrod or Tom Sawyer. Along with his best friend "Bunny" Morris, Pinkey thwarts classmates, plans fireworks and adventures, gets crushes, and tries to get the better of his canny teacher, "Red Feather" (to be introduced in a future installment).Long before anyone else in the house was stirring on that eventful morning, "Pinkey" Perkins had risen and dressed himself, and was chafing inwardly because it was yet an hour until breakfast time. To Pinkey alone was the morning especially eventful, but the fact that he was going to the County Fair, and was going alone, made it a red letter day with him.
He was to go in the morning, join his relatives from the country in time for a picnic dinner, and remain with them until his parents arrived in the afternoon.
Pinkey sought to gain time by doing before breakfast the chores he usually postponed until afterward, so as soon as the meal was over he began, under his mother's supervision, to make his preparations for departure.
"Now Pinkey," admonished Mrs. Perkins, as she arranged the new red tie with that generous puffy effect which Pinkey so much desired, "now remember, you are not to go around where any horses are; you might get kicked."
"Yes'm," agreed Pinkey, willing to promise anything.
"Just you look around in the school exhibit and go and see all the pretty things in the Ladies' Department and wait there until your aunt comes for you."
At last he was ready, and as the final touches were added to his attire, he stood before his mother's practised eye, immaculate and faultless. Proudly he strutted away beside his father, feeling very much of a man at the idea of going alone to the fair.
Pinkey had decided that twenty cents, in addition to the price of admission, should be a sufficient amount to defray his expenses for the morning, and that amount he had stored away in his inside pocket in the shape of two bright silver dimes.
"Have you a handkerchief?" called Mrs. Perkins, as the departing pair reached the front gate.
Without turning around, Pinkey announced that he had.
Mr. Perkins seldom took part in the detailed instructions regarding Pinkey's doings, or rather his not-doings, realizing that a few well-chosen and timely words were of more real value than those delivered more at length. On this occasion, his only instructions, given while on the way down town were: "Pinkey, while you are at the fair to-day, do what your mother told you, and keep out of mischief," and Pinkey's reply was his usual laconic "Yes, sir."
Father and son reached the public square as the "'bus" drivers were making their first rounds for passengers. Pinkey was on very good terms with the driver of one of these 'buses and on the strength of this friendship was soon perched on the driver's seat of that particular conveyance, enjoying a free ride to the fair grounds.
Now, Pinkey went to the fair that day with as good intentions as ever boy possessed. He was usually careful about not doing the things against which he had been warned, and on this occasion he had no intention of violating any of the specific restrictions which had' been placed on his actions. But if a thing had riot been mentioned, Pinkey generally felt at liberty to follow his own inclinations in the matter, sometimes to his later regret.
It happened that the driver of the 'bus which bore Pinkey to the fair that morning, was smoking. Pinkey had lately cherished a frequent desire to smoke, but a real fair opportunity when he had the material and could do so without fear of detection by parents or meddling friends, had never offered itself. But now was his chance; he had money with which to make his purchase and four long hours before him, free from interruption. He could go to the school exhibit later in the day. The article which so fascinated Pinkey was not a big cigar but a small daintily rolled cigarette, with a tobacco wrapper and an enticing white paper mouth-piece. Many boys of his age could smoke and why not he?
Pinkey debated the subject with himself on the way to the fair grounds and by the time he arrived his conscience had ceased to bother him.
As the 'bus drew up to the gate, Pinkey hurriedly dismounted, bought himself an admission ticket and was passed inside. A few minutes later he caught himself looking guiltily around as he walked up to a stand and invested one of his dimes in a package of "Cameos," with a colored picture of a boy, wreathed in fragrant smoke, on the outside of the box.
Hastily putting his newly-made purchase in his pocket and feeling highly elated, Pinkey set out to find some secluded place in which to satisfy his longing. While in search of such a spot, in the rapidly-filling grounds, whom should he see running to meet him but his bosom friend, "Bunny" Morris, just recovered from the mumps. He had not seen Bunny for a week, having been prohibited from going to his house, nor had Bunny been out of his yard for the same length of time. Pinkey had regretted that he was not going to see Bunny at the fair and greeted his partner joyfully, though a little doubtfully.
"Hullo, Pinkey," shouted Bunny.
"Hullo, when did you get out?" answered Pinkey, keeping a respectful distance from the recent invalid.
"Oh, to-day. They ain't catchin' any more," he continued, noticing Pinkey's efforts to avoid him. Pinkey, being thus reassured, they joined forces.
Pinkey conducted Bunny away from all possible danger of their being overheard and then broached the subject uppermost in his mind.
"Say, Bunny, if I tell you something, will you never tell?"
Bunny shook his head vigorously.
"Honest?"
"Honest Injun," declared Bunny.
"Cross your heart?"
" Cross my heart and hope to die," vowed the faithful Bunny.
"I 've got a box of cigarettes in my pocket."
"Humph, that 's nothin'," sneered Bunny, trying not to appear interested, but adding, "Where did you get 'em?"
"Oh, bought 'em a while ago. Did you ever smoke?"
There was no use hiding facts for each knew the other's every deed.
"Nothin' but corn silk and pennyroyal and such things," admitted Bunny. "I 've never smoked tobacco, though, have you?"
"No, but these cigarettes are n't strong a bit; let's get under the amphitheatre and smoke now."
Bunny agreed, and the pair disappeared beneath the large, wooden grandstand for their first taste of the fragrant weed. Safely hidden from the public eye, Pinkey produced the cigarettes and matches and soon the boy on the box cover was emulated.
"Great! ain't it?" inquired Pinkey, after enjoying his cameo for a few silent moments.
"Grand!" answered Bunny, puffing gaily away at his cigarette.
"Let 's see how far you 've smoked yours, Bunny."
They measured and neither seemed to be more rapidly consuming the weed than the other. This conversation was followed by a long interval of silence, during which the ashes gradually approached the white paper mouthpieces. Finally Pinkey broke the silence by declaring that he believed it got better the longer he smoked, but to a careful observer his words might have seemed to lack conviction.
Bunny went Pinkey one better by maintaining that this beat any other kind of cigarette he had ever smoked.
"I guess we ought n't to smoke clear up to the paper, though," warned Pinkey, tossing his stump away, "it might not taste good."
Bunny sat silent a moment, then he said with a serious look on his face: "I believe I must have smoked some of the paper on mine. Tastes like it," at the same time dropping his stump on the ground and stepping on it.
After a few thoughtful moments, Pinkey, placing a hand under each ear, inquired: "Bunny, are you sure you 're over the mumps? I feel as if I might be catchin' "em."
"Doctor said I was over "em,—but I might be havin' a relapse," replied Bunny despondently.
"I 'm afraid I 'd better go then, 'cause I 'd hate to get the mumps now," said Pinkey, rising unsteadily.
"Well, you 'd better not stay here any longer, Pinkey, because you know they 're terribly catchin'." Neither cared for companionship now, when there was danger of catching or transmitting the mumps.
"Are you going to stay here, Bunny?" inquired Pinkey, deciding that the sooner they separated, the more at rest he would be.
"Yes, I guess I 'd better stay here where nobody will catch the mumps from me." His thoughtfulness for the welfare of others had never before been so marked.
"Want me to leave these to smoke?" asked Pinkey, holding out the box of cigarettes. The queer feeling in his stomach was making him generous.
"No, you 'd better keep 'em, Pinkey, 'cause it 's not good for a fellow to smoke with the mumps."
Without further conversation, Pinkey departed, leaving Bunny seated on a box. his hands where his mumps had been. As soon as he was out of Bunny's line of vision, Pinkey dropped the box containing the remaining Cameos in a dark corner and steered for the open air. His motion was uncertain and things swam before him. Unsteadily he made his way through the heedless crowd in a direction where there seemed to be fewer people than anywhere else. With every step he gulped and swallowed, his head reeled and oh, how he longed for some quiet place, where he could lie down.
Presently, he found such a place, in the shade of a shed projecting from the poultry exhibit. But it was too late to try to ward off the inevitable. He lay down on the grass, clean waist, white collar, red tie and all, and the fair, Bunny, the cigarettes and the mumps all faded into a jumbled dream as he fell asleep.
But youthful ills are short-lived and Pinkey arose and looked about him, feeling somewhat like his own self once more. Again the noise which had awakened him began. It was the vigorous beating of a bass drum, which almost drowned the crash and rattle of a tambourine, the bearer of which vied with the drummer in making all the hideous noise possible.
These two were members of a freak show exhibiting on the grounds and this was their method of attracting attention and a curious crowd. They were marching about through the throng of people, punctuating their din by vivid descriptions of what could soon be seen at the "Grand, Free, Open Air Exhibition" about to take place. Pinkey joined the drifting multitude and worked his way to the front, so that by the time the crowd had reached the tent, he was following immediately in the wake of the bass drum.
After the crowd had gathered about the entrance, a "strong man" came out and gave a brief exhibition of juggling with cannon balls and concluded his exhibition by lifting with his teeth a heavy iron weight.
The public was then assured by two lusty-voiced individuals that this was but the tamest of the many attractions to be seen upon "the inside," and all for the "small sum of one dime, ten cents, the tenth part of a dollar."
Pinkey resisted manfully the consuming desire to go in, and clutched hard his remaining wealth. But the gaudy banners flapping in the breeze on either side of the entrance were too much for him. There were pictured a living skeleton, a fat boy, a real Circassian queen, a tattooed man, and many other attractions irresistible to older wills than Pinkey's. So at last he walked up boldly and exchanged his single remaining dime for the coveted ticket and soon was gazing upon the wonders within.
After a man, apparently the proprietor, had fully explained the special points of each attraction, and the acrobats had given their performance, those who had entered when Pinkey did began to depart. Instead of leaving with the crowd, Pinkey decided to remain until the next exhibition and then try to see everything over again at closer range.
When the tent was almost empty of visitors, Pinkey heard a voice from across the tent, inquiring: "Hey, kid,—want a job?"
At this, Pinkey turned around and the man called: "Come over here," at the same time motioning for Pinkey to follow him behind a large curtain.
"Think you 're man enough to turn that?" inquired the man, pointing to a large hand-organ; "the kid we had turning it, skipped out a while ago. If you 'll turn it until dinnertime, I 'll give you a dime, and besides, while I 'm lecturing, you can come out and see the show."
Surely fortune was smiling on Pinkey now! Here was not only a chance to see the show as many times as he desired, but to get his money back at the same time.
"Yes, sir, I 'll turn it," answered Pinkey eagerly, and forthwith reached for the crank and began to turn. The machine, much the worse for years of service, responded with a succession of stale melodies, which in their best days had been bad enough. Pinkey felt no fear of detection and entered on his part of the contract with enthusiasm.
"My, this is easy," thought Pinkey, marveling at the luck by which he was earning back his dime, and picturing to himself how envious Bunny would be when he heard of it all. But he found himself changing hands more and more frequently, before the man bade him stop to rest a minute.
When Pinkey started up again, the organ seemed to turn harder than it did before and the cracked tunes became wearisome and monotonous, but he stuck manfully at his post. While enjoying his rest during the next exhibition, he became suddenly aware of an assertive emptiness in his stomach and began to wonder how long it would be before dinner-time. The next period of turning seemed longer than all the others put together, and his arms seemed about to drop off before he was allowed to stop and rest. By this time he had grown thoroughly tired of the show, and during the intermission he sat on the ground wiping his brow, hungry and dejected.
After this crowd had dispersed and Pinkey again began his weary grind, he felt so weak that it was with difficulty he kept the machine going at all. Noticing the lagging music, the proprietor looked behind the curtain. It seemed to him that he had never seen weariness and despair so plainly depicted anywhere. Even he, who was accustomed to get all he could from everybody, felt that things had gone far enough. Pinkey was turning with one hand and mopping his brow with the other, making frequent changes. He felt that every turn must be his last, but he was trying his best to keep his end of the bargain.
"Well, kid," said the proprietor, " I guess you've turned long enough. You've earned your dime, and besides, there won't be much of a crowd in here during the balloon ascension, anyway."
"Balloon ascension!" gasped Pinkey, "what time is it?"
"About two o'clock," said the man dryly, "nearly dinner-time."
"Jiminy, give me my dime," cried Pinkey excitedly, "dinner-time's twelve!"
As he flew from the tent, Pinkey saw the huge gas bag over beyond the track, slowly filling, preparatory to its flight. What was he to do? He had missed his dinner and no doubt his father and mother and aunt had been looking for him everywhere. How could he bear to tell them that he had been there in that hot stuffy tent, he knew not how long, turning a hand-organ?
But his stomach! Eat he must and soon. Parents and aunts and even balloon ascensions paled to insignificance beside the hunger that consumed him.
Five minutes later an anxious father espied a ravenous son perched high on a stool in a lunch tent, a piece of mince pie in one hand and a bottle of ginger "pop" in the other. Winter or summer, mince pie was Pinkey's weakness and pop a beverage for the gods.
"Pinkerton!!"
To Pinkey it seemed that a bomb had burst beneath him. His bottle of pop dropped from his hand, fell clattering to the floor and the precious fluid gurgled through the cracks. Clutching the remainder of his pie, he dismounted from the stool and confronted his father, a wreck of his morning spotlessness.
"Pinkerton," demanded the father, "what are you doing here?"
"Getting some dinner."
"Why did n't you get your dinner when you were told to get it?"
"Missed it." Pinkey never entered into long explanations when he could help it, unless they would benefit him.
"What have you been doing all day, anyhow?"
"Nothing much," replied Pinkey vaguely, desiring to avoid trouble as long as possible.
"Answer my question, young man, how did you come to miss your dinner?"
"I was working for the side-show man."
"Working for the side-show man!" exclaimed Mr. Perkins, "Well what have you been doing this morning? Out with it."
And Pinkey, seeing that he might better tell that part of his story than to have it, and more, extracted from him in small pieces, told his father, as they went to meet the worried mother, how he had paid his money to get in the sideshow, and all that had happened since.
"And when he gave me my dime and told me I could stop turning," concluded Pinkey, "it was nearly two o'clock. I thought he 'd tell me when it was dinner-time, but when I found how late it was I knew I had missed my dinner, so I spent the money I had earned for pie and pop."
"Is that all you 've had to eat since breakfast?"
"Yes, sir," admitted the famished Pinkey, "and that's not much."
In silence they walked along, Pinkey wondering what the outcome of it all would be and his father trying to decide if his son had been sufficiently punished by his own foolishness.
"And father," queried Pinkey, presently, mindful of the warning he had received, "father, is it wrong to turn a hand-organ, when you get pay for it?"
"We 'l see about that when we get home," answered the father, unwilling at present to hold out any hope.
As the pair approached the buggy wherein sat Mrs. Perkins and her sister, Mr. Perkins endeavored to make light of Pinkey's escapade.
"Here's your boy," he called, "he is all right, only not quite as spick and span as when you last saw him. He has been enjoying himself turning a hand-organ in a sideshow and missed his dinner. He 's pretty hungry, but he will have to charge that up to experience."
Mrs. Perkins was so glad to see her son, alive and unmangled, that she had not the heart to upbraid him. Scarcely had she been convinced of his safety before his aunt, ever thoughtful and kind-hearted, led him away from the buggy to the large family carryall, wherein were two big baskets containing the remnants of the dinner Pinkey had missed. "Poor dear," she pitied, "no dinner, and turning the crank all the time for that horrid man!"
Pinkey could see no use in spoiling a lot of generous sympathy by telling about the early part of the morning, so he accepted pardon and kept his smoking experience to himself. He knew he had been sufficiently punished for that.
After a hasty toilet at the nearby pump, Pinkey returned, passably clean and totally famished. Never had cold chicken, rolls, milk, preserves and cake tasted so good, and as Pinkey buried his face in a large slice of watermelon, he felt that although his day at the fair had not been a decided success, life from many standpoints was still worth living.
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