Frank's Campaign; Or, The Farm and the Camp

“‘My father!’ said Johnny, shying out of the room. ‘You ain’t my father. My father isn’t as tall as a tree.’

“‘You see how absurd your claim is,’ said Mrs. Tubbs. ‘You’ll oblige me by leaving the house directly.’

“‘Leave the house—my house!’ said Tubbs.

“‘If you don’t, I’ll call in the neighbors,’ said the courageous woman.

“‘I don’t believe they’d dare to come,’ said Tubbs, smiling queerly at the recollection of what a sensation his appearance had made.

“‘Won’t you go?’

“‘At least you’ll let me have some dinner. I am ‘most famished.’

“‘Dinner!” said Mrs. Tubbs, hesitating. ‘I don’t think there’s enough in the house. However, you can sit down to the table.’

“Tubbs attempted to sit down on a chair, but his weight was so great that it was crushed beneath him. Finally, he was compelled to sit on the floor, and even then his stature was such that his head rose to the height of six feet.

“What an enormous appetite he had, too! The viands on the table seemed nothing. He at first supplied his plate with the usual quantity; but as the extent of his appetite became revealed to him, he was forced to make away with everything on the table. Even then he was hungry.

“‘Well, I declare,’ thought Mrs. Tubbs, in amazement, ‘it does take an immense quantity to keep him alive!’

“Tubbs rose from the table, and, in doing so, hit his head a smart whack against the ceiling. Before leaving the house he turned to make a last appeal to his wife, who, he could not help seeing, was anxious to have him go.

“‘Won’t you own me, Mary?’ he asked. ‘It isn’t my fault that I am so big.’

“‘Own you!’ exclaimed his wife. ‘I wouldn’t own you for a mint of money. You’d eat me out of house and home in less than a week.’

“‘I don’t know but I should,’ said Mr. Tubbs mournfully. ‘I don’t see what gives me such an appetite. I’m hungry now.’

“‘Hungry, after you’ve eaten enough for six!’ exclaimed his wife, aghast. ‘Well, I never!’

“‘Then you won’t let me stay, Mary?’

“‘No, no.’

“With slow and sad strides Thomas Tubbs left the house. The world seemed dark enough to the poor fellow. Not only was he disowned by his wife and children, but he could not tell how he should ever earn enough to keep him alive, with the frightful appetite which he now possessed. ‘I don’t know,’ he thought, ‘but the best way is to drown myself at once.’ So he walked to the river, but found it was not deep enough to drown him.

“As he emerged from the river uncomfortably wet, he saw a man timidly approaching him. It proved to be the manager of the show.

“‘Hello!’ said he hesitatingly.

“‘Hello!’ returned Tubbs disconsolately.

“‘Would you like to enter into a business engagement with me?’

“‘Of what sort?’ asked Tubbs, brightening up.

“‘To be exhibited,’ was the reply. ‘You’re the largest man living in the world. We could make a pretty penny together.’

“Tubbs was glad enough to accept this proposition, which came to him like a plank to a drowning man. Accordingly an agreement was made that, after deducting expenses, he should share profits with the manager.

“It proved to be a great success. From all quarters people flocked to see the great prodigy, the wonder of the world, as he was described in huge posters. Scientific men wrote learned papers in which they strove to explain his extraordinary height, and, as might be expected, no two assigned the same cause.

“At the end of six months Tubbs had five thousand dollars as his share of the profits. But after all he was far from happy. He missed the society of his wife and children, and shed many tears over his separation from them.

“At the end of six months his singular customer again made his appearance.

“‘It seems to me you’ve altered some since I last saw you,’ he said, with a smile.

“‘Yes,’ said Tubbs dolefully.

“‘You don’t like the change, I judge?’

“‘No,’ said Tubbs. ‘It separates me from my wife and children, and that makes me unhappy.’

“‘Would you like to be changed back again!’

“‘Gladly,’ was the reply.

“Presto! the wonderful giant was changed back into the little tailor. No sooner was this effected than he returned post-haste to Webbington. His wife received him with open arms.

“‘Oh, Thomas,’ she exclaimed, ‘how could you leave us so? On the day of your disappearance a huge brute of a man came here and pretended to be you, but I soon sent him away.’

“Thomas wisely said nothing, but displayed his five thousand dollars. There was great joy in the little dwelling. Thomas Tubbs at once took a larger shop, and grew every year in wealth and public esteem. The only way in which he did not grow was in stature; but his six months’ experience as a giant had cured him of any wish of that sort. The last I heard of him was his election to the legislature.”

“That’s a bully story,” said Charlie, using a word which he had heard from older boys. “I wish I was a great tall giant.”

“What would you do if you were, Charlie?”

“I’d go and fight the rebels,” said Charlie manfully.

CHAPTER XX. POMP’S EDUCATION COMMENCES

In the season of leisure from farm work which followed, Frank found considerable time for study. The kind sympathy and ready assistance given by Mr. Morton made his task a very agreeable one, and his progress for a time was as rapid as if he had remained at school.

He also assumed the office of teacher, having undertaken to give a little elementary instruction to Pomp. Here his task was beset with difficulties. Pomp was naturally bright, but incorrigibly idle. His activity was all misdirected and led him into a wide variety of mischief. He had been sent to school, but his mischievous propensities had so infected the boys sitting near him that the teacher had been compelled to request his removal.

Three times in the week, during the afternoon, Pomp came over to the farm for instruction. On the first of these occasions we will look in upon him and his teacher.

Pomp is sitting on a cricket by the kitchen fire. He has a primer open before him at the alphabet. His round eyes are fixed upon the page as long as Frank is looking at him, but he requires constant watching. His teacher sits near-by, with a Latin dictionary resting upon a light stand before him, and a copy of Virgil’s Aeneid in his hand.

“Well, Pomp, do you think you know your lesson?” he asks.

“Dunno, Mass’ Frank; I reckon so.”

“You may bring your book to me, and I will try you.”

Pomp rose from his stool and sidled up to Frank with no great alacrity.