Mollie and the Unwiseman Abroad

"Wait!" said the Unwiseman. "Don't you try to get in ahead of the finish. Here's the last verse, and it covers your ground.

"And thus it was, O children dear,
Who gather at my knee,
Columbus showed the Earth the sphere
It since has proved to be;
Though how the Egg trick made it clear,
I'm blest if I can see."

"Well I'm glad you put that last voyse in," said Whistlebinkie, "because I don't see either."

"Oh – I guess they thought a man who could train an egg to stand up was a pretty smart man," said Mollie, "and they didn't want to dispute with him."

"I shouldn't be surprised if that was it," said the Unwiseman. "I noticed too in the picture that Columbus was about twice as big as any of the wise-men, and maybe that had something to do with it too. Anyhow, he was pretty smart."

"Is that all you wrote?" asked Whistlebinkie.

"No," said the Unwiseman. "I did another little one called 'I Wonder.' There are a lot of things the histories don't tell you anything about, so I've put 'em all in a rhyme as a sort of hint to people who are going to write about him in the future. It goes like this:

"When Christopher Columbus came ashore,
The day he landed in Americor
I wonder what he said when first he tried
Down in the subway trains to take a ride?

"When Christopher Columbus went up town
And looked the country over, up and down,
I wonder what he thought when first his eye
Was caught by the sky-scrapers in the sky?

"When Christopher put up at his hotel
And first pushed in the button of his bell
And upward came the boy who orders takes,
I wonder if he ordered buckwheat cakes?

"When Christopher went down to Washington
To pay his call the President upon
I wonder if the President felt queer
To know that his discoverer was here?

"I wonder when his slow-poke caravels
Were tossed about by heavy winds and swells,
If he was not put out and mad to spy
The ocean steamers prancing swiftly by?"

"I don't know about other people," said the Unwiseman, "but little things like that always interest me about as much as anything else, but there's nary a word about it in the papers, and as far as my memory is concerned when he first came I was too young to know much about what was going on. I do remember a big parade in his honor, but I think that was some years after the discovery."

"I guess it was," said Mollie, with a laugh. "There wasn't anything but Indians there when he arrived."

"Really? How unfortunate – how very unfortunate," said the Unwiseman. "To think that on the few occasions that he came here he should meet only Indians. Mercy! What a queer idea of the citizens of the United States he must have got. Really, Mollie, I don't wonder that instead of settling down in New York, or Boston, or Chicago, he went back home again to live. Nothing but Indians! Well, well, well!"

And the Unwiseman wandered moodily back to his carpet-bag.

"With so many nice people living in America," he sighed, "it does seem too bad that he should meet only Indians who, while they may be very good Indians indeed, are not noted for the quality of their manners."

And so the little party passed over the sea, and I did not meet with them again until I reached the pier at New York and discovered the Unwiseman struggling with the Custom House Inspectors.

XIV

AT THE CUSTOM HOUSE

"Hi there – where are you going with that carpet-bag?" cried a gruff voice, as the Unwiseman scurried along the pier, eager to get back home as speedily as possible after the arrival of the steamer at New York.

"Where do you suppose I'm going?" retorted the Unwiseman, pausing in his quick-step march back to the waiting arms of his kitchen-stove. "Doesn't look as if I was walkin' off to sea again, does it?"

"Come back here with that bag," said the man of the gruff voice, a tall man with a shiny black moustache and a blue cap with gold trimmings on his head.

"What, me?" demanded the Unwiseman.

"Yes, you," said the man roughly. "What business have you skipping out like that with a carpet-bag as big as a house under your arm?"

"It's my bag – who's got a better right?" retorted the Unwiseman. "I bought and paid for it with my own money, so why shouldn't I walk off with it?"

"Has it been inspected?" demanded the official.

"It don't need to be – there ain't any germans in it," said the Unwiseman.

"Germans?" laughed the official.

"Yes – Mike robes – you know – " continued the Unwiseman.

"O, you mean germs," said the official. "Well, I didn't say disinfected. I said inspected. You can't lug a bag like that in through here without having it examined, you know. What you got in it?"

The Unwiseman placed his bag on the floor of the pier and sat on it and looked the other coldly in the eye.

"Who are you anyhow?" he asked. "What right have you to ask me such impident questions as, What have I got in this bag?"

"Well in private life my name's Maginnis," said the official, "but down here on this dock I'm Uncle Sam, otherwise the United States of America, that's who."

The Unwiseman threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"I do not mean to be rude, my dear Mr. Maginnis," he said, "but I really must say Tutt, Tush, Pshaw and Pooh. I may even go so far as to say Pooh-pooh – which is twice as scornful as just plain pooh. You Uncle Sam? You must think I'm as green as apples if you think I'll believe that."

"It is true nevertheless," said the official sternly, "and unless you hand over that bag at once – "

"Well I know better," said the Unwiseman angrily. "Uncle Sam has a red goatee and you've got nothing but a shiny black moustache that looks like a pair of comic eyebrows that have slipped and slid down over your nose. Uncle Sam wears a blue swallow-tail coat with brass buttons on it, and a pair of red and white striped trousers like a peppermint stick, and you've got nothin' but an old pea-jacket and blue flannel pants on, and as for the hat, Uncle Sam wears a yellow beaver with fur on it like a coon-cat, while that thing of yours looks like a last summer's yachtin' cap spruced up with brass. You're a very smart man, Mr. Maginnis, but you can't fool an old traveller like me. I've been to Europe, I have, and I guess I know the difference between a fire-engine and a clothes horse. Uncle Sam indeed!"

"I must inspect the contents of that bag," said the official firmly. "If you resist it will be confiscated."

"I don't know what confiscated means," returned the Unwiseman valiantly, "but any man who goes through this bag of mine goes through me first. I'm sittin' on the lock, Mr. Maginnis, and I don't intend to move – no, not if you try to blast me away. A man's carpet-bag is his castle and don't you forget it."