Freddy Goes to the North Pole Read Online Free PDF Page A

with laughter at the thought of a faithful pet like Robert having faithful pets of his own.
    All that spring Barnyard Tours, Inc., was very busy. The roads were so full of travelling animals that automobile traffic was seriously interfered with and the Rome and Utica and Syracuse automobile clubs complained to the Mayor of Centerboro, and the Mayor of Centerboro called up Mr. Bean on the telephone and said that something would have to be done. Mr. Bean promised to do something, but before he could decide what to do, Freddy saw an editorial complaining about it in the Centerboro paper, and he told the other animals. So they were more careful after that and took back roads or went cross-country whenever possible.
    The work on the farm was done as if by magic. Whatever Mr. Bean said he was going to do got done before he had time to do it. If he said in the evening: “Tomorrow I’m going to plough the lower pasture,” in the morning when he went out to plough it, the work would all be done. Even most of Mrs. Bean’s work was done for her by the animals. At first when she came into the kitchen and found a dozen squirrels busily sweeping the floor with their tails, she shooed them out quickly. But after she found out that they were helping her, she let them alone. She would sit comfortably in her rocking-chair and doze while dozens of little animals ran all over the house, picking up and dusting and sweeping. Now and then she would smile and lean down and pat a mouse on the head who was hurrying out with a mouthful of threads he had picked off the floor, and now and then one of the squirrels or rabbits or cats would jump up in her lap to have his head scratched. Of course the animals couldn’t cook and sew and make beds, but they were a great help and they kept the house as neat as a pin.
    But Freddy and Jinx and the other members of the firm were growing restless. They had no regular work to do on the farm any more, for with so many animals paying for trips with work, there were more workers than work to be done. And after they had personally conducted tour after tour over the same ground, they began to get tired of it.
    â€œPersonally,” said Freddy, “I’m fed up. I’m sick to death of that Scenic Centerboro tour, of explaining over and over again to groups of silly animals about the Public Library and the Presbyterian Church and the fine view from the hill behind the Trumbull place. And the foolish questions they ask! And the complaints!”
    â€œYou said a snoutful, pig,” said Jinx, who was inclined to be a little vulgar in his speech, but was otherwise a very estimable animal. “And the smaller they are, the more complaints they have. A cow or a horse, now, will take things good-naturedly and won’t expect too much. But there were a couple of beetles on that last trip—my word, but they were unpleasant people! I carried ’em all the way on my back, and first they couldn’t see, and then the dust got in their noses, and then when it began to rain and there wasn’t any more dust, they complained about that and tried to crawl into my ears to get out of the wet. Can you beat that?”
    â€œWe don’t have to beat it,” said Freddy seriously. Freddy had become very serious during the past year, and rather dignified. Once he had been a carefree, light-hearted young pig, always playing jokes or writing poetry or inventing new games, but the cares of business had weighed him down, and nowadays he almost never even smiled. Which was too bad, since a pig’s face is built for smiling, and Freddy never looked so handsome as when he was squealing with laughter. “You see,” he went on, “I’ve been figuring up and we’ve got enough work coming to us for the trips we’ve been taking animals on so that we could all go away for two years if we wanted to, and all the farm work would be done while we were away. We don’t have to