Stuart Little Read Online Free PDF Page A

bag andwitha
fearful whooosh the schooner slowed down and came up into the wind with all
sails flapping. Just at this moment Stuart heard a splintering crash, saw the
bow of the Lillian plow through his rigging, and felt the whole ship tremble
from stem to stern with the force of the collision.
    “A collision!” shouted the
crowd on shore.
    In a jiffy the two boats
were in a terrible tangle. Little boys on shore screamed and danced up and
down. Meanwhile the paper bag sprang a leak and began to fill.
    The Wasp couldn’t move
because of the bag. The Lillian B. Womrath couldn’t move because her nose was
stuck in the Wasp’s rigging.
    Waving his arms, Stuart ran
forward and fired off his gun. Then he heard, above the other voices on shore,
the voice of the owner of the Wasp yelling directions and telling him what to
do.
    “Stuart! Stuart! Down jib!
Down staysail!”
    Stuart jumped for the
halyards, and the jib and the forestaysail came rippling down.
    “Cut away all paper bags!”
roared the owner.
    Stuart whipped out his
pocketknife and slashed away bravely at the soggy bag until he had the deck
cleared.
    “Now back your foresail and
give her a full!” screamed the owner of the Wasp.
    Stuart grabbed the foresail
boom and pulled with all his might. Slowly the schooner paid off and began to
gather headway. And as she heeled over to the breeze she rolled her rail out
from under the Lillian’s nose, shook herself free, and stood away to the
southard. A loud cheer went up from the bank. Stuart sprang to the wheel and
answered it. Then he looked back, and to his great joy he perceived that the
Lillian had gone off in a wild direction and was yawing all over the pond.
    Straight and true sailed the
Wasp, with Stuart at the helm. After she had crossed the finish line, Stuart
brought her alongside the wall, and was taken ashore and highly praised for his
fine seamanship and daring. The owner was delighted and said it was the
happiest day of his life. He introduced himself to Stuart, said that in private
life he was Dr. Paul Carey, a surgeon-dentist. He said model boats were his hobby
and that he would be delighted to have Stuart take command of his vessel at any
time. Everybody shook hands with Stuart—everybody, that is, except the
policeman, who was too wet and mad to shake hands with a mouse.
    When Stuart got home that
night, his brother George asked him where he had been all day.
    “Oh, knocking around town,”
replied Stuart.
    VIII. Margalo
    Because he was so small,
Stuart was often hard to find around the house. His father and his mother and
his brother George seldom could locate him by looking for him—usually they had
to call him; and the house often echoed with cries of “Stuart! Stooo-art!” You
would come into a room, and he might be curled up in a chair, but you wouldn’t see
him. Mr. Little was in constant fear of losing him and never finding him again.
He even made him a tiny red cap, such as hunters wear, so that he would be
easier to see.
    One day when he was seven
years old, Stuart was in the kitchen watching his mother make tapioca pudding.
He was feeling hungry, and when Mrs. Little opened the door of the electric refrigerator
to get something, Stuart slipped inside to see if he could find a piece of cheese.
He supposed, of course, his mother had seen him, and when the door swung shut
and he realized he was locked in, it surprised him greatly.
    “Help!” he called. “It’s
dark in here. It’s cold in this refrigerator. Help! Let me out! I’m getting
colder by the minute.”
    But his voice was not strong
enough to penetrate the thick wall. In the darkness he stumbled and fell into a
saucer of prunes. The juice was cold. Stuart shivered, and his teeth chattered
together. It wasn’t until half an hour later that Mrs. Little again opened the
door and found him standing on a butter plate, beating his arms together to try
to keep warm, and blowing on his hands, and hopping up and down.
    “Mercy!”