Tinkle and Tommy, led by Mrs. Erutan, visit magical homes worldwide, meeting children from various cultures.
They have fun-filled adventures, including skating, kite flying, and even eating a bear, returning home before supper, giggling all the way.
This is a vintage fairy tale bedtime story. Enjoy
Tinkle and Tommy were the only children on the island. At least they didn’t know any others. They were tired of playing all alone. They wanted something to happen.
Suddenly something did happen!
Swoopity-swoop! A great shining thing flashed through the sky and bounced at their feet.
“It’s the magic ball!” they squealed gleefully, for it had led them into adventures before.
“Run, Tinkle, run!” Tommy shouted. “It’s going into the Tall Dark Woods.”
It went bouncing ahead through the trees, guiding them straight to the withch’s little white house. And there was the jolly little old lady herself, all dressed up in her funny bonnet and mittens as though she were going somewhere.
“Good morning, children,” she beamed. “What a lovely day for visiting!”
“Good morning, Mrs. Erutan,” they answered. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Oh, you’re invited too!” she said quickly. “We’ll visit some of my children. I have hundreds, and millions, and billions of them all together.”
Then she picked a leaf. It grew, and it GREW, and it GREW. It got as big as a dinner table.
“All aboard!” she called, sitting on it. “Hold on tight!”
Whoooo-o-o! went the wind. Up went the leaf, swooping and dipping through the air.
“Oooo-o-o!” gasped the children. It was a long, long time before they dared to peek. Then, at last, they saw below them a ring of the cutest, prettiest, strangest, little houses in all the world.
The leaf fluttered down right in the middle of the circle.
“The houses are all just the right size!” laughed Tinkle, clapping her hands.
“Of course,” nodded Mrs. Erutan, busily winding a huge watch, which she had borrowed from old Father Time. She must have been winding it backwards, for the sun went slippity-sliding all the way back to sunrise.
“Now we can begin at the beginning,” she twinkled. “But which house will be the first?”
They were all so cute the children just couldn’t decide, so Tommy counted, “Eeny-meeny-miney-mo . . .”
It was the little Hungarian house, and the tiny door opened before they even knocked.
“Come in!” called a little voice in Hungarian, which the children could suddenly understand very well.
“Aren’t you coming in too?” Tommy asked Mrs. Erutan, but she shook her head.
She didn’t like to admit that she couldn’t get through the door. She just said she had a lot to attend to, leaving her calling cards all around.
“It’s sociable,” she said, “and besides it reminds them not to spell my name backwards.” (Can you guess what it spells that way?)
So the children stepped into the little house alone. It was very dark inside, for there were no windows, but they could dimly see the furniture. In the corner of the room was a funny mud stove looking like a great white pear with a shelf around it for people to sit on. And there was the little Hungarian boy himself.
“My, you’re dressed up!” said Tinkle admiringly. He looked as though he had on skirts, but they were really trousers.
“Everybody here wears pretty clothes,” said the little Hungarian boy.
Then he showed them his farm where everything was exactly the right size too. The cow was only as big as a calf. The mother pig was the size of a puppy.
The piglets were no bigger than mice. And the geese looked like pigeons.
Then oh! what a good time they had.
It was so much fun to milk the tiny cow, and the little Hungarian boy let them take turns. It was like a game finding the wee little goose eggs, and feeding all the hungry little animals. But Tinkle and Tommy and the little Hungarian boy were the hungriest of all.
They hurried back to the house and made the nicest omelets. My! how they disappeared! And goodness what a lot of milk they drank!
They would have stayed all day, but Mrs. Erutan called them. So they thanked the little Hungarian boy, and sadly told him goodbye.
“It’s your turn now, Tinkle,” said Mrs. Erutan. “Which house do you choose?”
So Tinkle counted like Tommy. This time it was the little Hawaiian house.
The funny little house was made of grass, with a thick pointed roof that sloped four ways.
It was shaded by palms and had no windows at all. It must have been very dark inside.
Before they could knock, a pretty little Hawaiian girl appeared in the doorway.
“Welcome!” she said in Hawaiian, which they could suddenly understand very well.
She was holding wreaths of flowers which she had made herself. There was a little wreath to hang around Tinkle’s neck. And another little one for Tommy. And a great BIG one for Mrs. Erutan. The little Hawaiian girl must have known they were coming.
“Let’s all go swimming!” she cried suddenly, dancing and clapping her hands at the thought.
“Where’s the water?” asked Tommy eagerly.
“But we haven’t any bathing suits,” mourned Tinkle.
“I’ll get some!” promised the little Hawaiian girl, dashing back into the house.
Then she brought a little bathing suit for Tinkle. And another little one for Tommy. And a great BIG one for Mrs. Erutan.
Behind the house, by the pineapple garden, was a little path that ran straight to the sea.
Then there was one little splash. And another. And another. And a great BIG splash!
All the little fishes came to join in the fun. And what a noisy, splashy, spluttery, merry time everybody had!
The little Hawaiian girl was as graceful as a fish, and very brave. She could stand on a board, without holding on, and go skimming over the waves to the beach.
“Let me try!” Tommy cried.
“Show me how!” begged Tinkle.
Oh, they would have liked to stay there all day long. At last Mrs. Erutan got out of the water, and so did the little Hawaiian girl, but Tinkle and Tommy kept right on swimming.
“There won’t be any time left!” warned Mrs. Erutan.
Then Tinkle and Tommy dressed, thanked the little Hawaiian girl, and very sadly told her goodbye.
“Now where do you think you’ll like to have lunch?” Mrs. Erutan asked the children.
It was Tommy’s turn again, and this time he counted out on the little Mexican house.
It was made of adobe mud, and set in a bright flower garden under a cottonwood tree. Behind it were tiny gold and purple mountains. The air was dry, and hot, and smelling of flowers.
Before the children could knock, the little door opened, and there stood the smiling little Mexican girl.
“You are most welcome,” she said in Spanish, which they could suddenly understand very well.
She took them into a tiny low room. The floor was made of dirt, and the ceiling was made of poles with sticks laid across. The little furniture was brightly painted with flowers, and strings of corn and peppers hung from the whitewashed walls.
Tiny pet animals and birds were running and flying all around the room. And what a noise of squealings, and cluckings, and barkings, and gruntings, and chatterings they made!
“They’re hungry,” said the little Mexican girl, feeding chili and cheese to the fussy baby mocking birds.
The children were getting hungry too. So when they had helped to feed all the animals, they began to fix lunch for themselves.
The little Mexican girl showed Tinkle how to grind corn with stones and pat the meal into little cakes called tortillas. Tommy learned to make tamales out of cornmeal and meat. He wrapped them in corn shucks like neat little packages, while the little Mexican girl stirred a pot of beans and chili.
At last they took everything into the garden, and Mrs. Erutan was so surprised and pleased to be invited to the party. The children had felt on fire inside, but they liked the hot chili just the same. They liked the little Mexican girl. They liked her house, and the way she lived with all her pets. They would have liked to stay there all day long, but Mrs. Erutan said they must leave. So they thanked the little Mexican girl and sadly told her goodbye.
“Which house shall it be this afternoon?” wondered Mrs. Erutan.
It was Tinkle’s turn again. She counted, and this time it was the little Chinese house. It was a very grand little house made of tiles, with tiny courts and gardens. Some of the gates were moon-shaped, or shaped like vases and lutes.
Before they could knock, the door opened, and the little Chinese boy was smiling and bowing them into his house. He was also making polite speeches in Chinese, which they could suddenly understand very well. He was the most polite boy they had ever met.
He took Tinkle and Tommy through his house and showed them all his toys. Best of all were the wonderful kites. They were made like birds, and animals, and men. Tinkle and Tommy had never seen anything like them.
“But you need a wind for flying kites,” smiled Mrs. Erutan, peeking over the top of the wall.
And, Whooo-o-o! There was the wind blowing as nice as you please.
The little Chinese boy welcomed Mrs. Erutan so gladly that soon she was flying a kite too. Before long the little Persian boy, the little Korean boy, and the little Japanese boy saw the kites flying, and came bringing their own.
Then they had the most wonderful battle, flying kites the Persian way. The little Persian boy had brought some ground glass paste to rub on the kite strings. As the kites flew around, everybody tried to use his string to saw another string in two. Then how they squealed and shouted, and ran to catch a kite when it came fluttering down.
It was so much fun that Tommy and Tinkle would have liked to fly kites all day long. But Mrs. Erutan said they must go, though she liked to fly kites herself.
When the little Chinese boy told them goodbye, he gave them each a present. Tommy’s was a beautiful kite painted like a fish. And Tinkle’s was lovely too, but hers was like a bird.
So they thanked the little Chinese boy, and sadly told all the boys goodbye.
“Now, which house?” asked Mrs. Erutan.
“Eeny-meeny-miney-mo . . .” counted Tommy. It was the little Dutch house. Mrs. Erutan said she would meet them in the garden.
The little Dutch house had a funny roof made partly of tiles and partly of thatch. The bottom half of the door was closed, but the top half was open, and a pretty little Dutch girl was peeking out at them.
“Good afternoon!” she said in Dutch, which the children could suddenly understand very well.
Then she welcomed them into a low squatty room with tall narrow furniture. Everything gleamed, from the tiny copper pots, to the blue Dutch tiles on the fireplace.
Afterwards she took them to the back of her little house.
The land was flat as far as they could see, and dotted with tiny windmills. Tulips were growing everywhere, and all around were little silver canals, sparkling in the sun.
It was lovely, but the little Dutch girl just sighed. “If it were only winter,” she said, “we could all go skating.”
“And why not?” twinkled Mrs. Erutan, doing some magic that made winter come in a minute.
“Brrr-r-r!” shivered Tinkle.
Tommy flapped his arms.
The little Dutch girl raced back to the house and brought them some warm Dutch clothes. She brought three pairs of little skates and one pair of BIG ones, so they all could go skating on the tiny canals.
They skated and skated. What fun it was! And how they laughed to see Mrs. Erutan spinning like a top. The little Dutch girl could skate like a fairy. Tinkle and Tommy were learning fast, too.
It couldn’t matter if Tinkle did fall down once or twice. With so many petticoats on she could hardly feel the bumps. How they shouted as they skated about! And what a merry time they had playing lash-the-whip!
The children would gladly have skated all day, but at last Mrs. Erutan said they must go. Then she wound the watch, and spring came scurrying back again. So they thanked the little Dutch girl and sadly told her goodbye.
It was supper time by then.
“I’m having dinner with the little French girl,” said Mrs. Erutan.
Tommy said he would very much rather see the Eskimo house.
It was made of ice and looked like a bowl upside down. The only door was a tunnel of ice, and it was full of dogs called “huskies.”
“Come in!” called a little voice, speaking Eskimo, which they could suddenly understand very well.
The little Eskimo boy lent them some warm Eskimo clothes, and they all went out again, and hitched the huskies to a sled.
“Mush!” cried the little Eskimo boy to the dogs, meaning, “Get up!”
He took hold behind the sled, and away they went over the snow and ice.
After a while he stopped to make a hole in the ice, and they fished until Tinkle caught a herring.
“Mush,” he said again, and they came to another hole. Then he showed them how to catch a seal.
“Mush!” he said for the third time. But this time Tinkle and Tommy had to walk because the seal was on the sled.
They walked and walked, and suddenly Tommy shot a polar bear. They put him on the sled too.
The little Eskimo boy said, “Mush!” for the last time, and they went straight back to the igloo. “It’s time for supper,” he said at last, giving them each a piece of raw herring. Tinkle and Tommy could have eaten a bear, but they just couldn’t eat raw fish.
Next the little Eskimo boy gave them some strips of raw seal fat. He called it “blubber” and said it tasted fine. But Tinkle and Tommy thought they’d rather starve. It began to look as though they would. They wondered what Mrs. Erutan was having for supper, but that only made things worse.
Finally the little Eskimo boy skinned the bear and cooked it. So Tinkle and Tommy really did eat a bear, and they were so terribly hungry it tasted wonderful.
Then Mrs. Erutan called them away, so they thanked the little Eskimo boy, and sadly told him goodbye.
“It’s late. You’d better go home now,” said Mrs. Erutan.
“Oh!” gasped the children. “What will Mother say?”
“Never mind,” smiled Mrs. Erutan, “I’ll fix the watch, and you’ll get home so long ago she’ll never even worry.”
She sat on the big leaf again, calling, “Hurry! All aboard! Hold on tight!” And up it rose into the air.
Whooo-o-o! Away flew Tommy’s kite. It pulled him right off the leaf.
Whooo-o-o! Another wind caught Tinkle’s, pulling her after him.
“Goodbye!” called Mrs. Erutan.
“Goodbye!” they shouted back, not feeling at all afraid.
Every minute it grew earlier. The sun backed up the sky. They were home again by supper time.
“I’m afraid we’re not hungry,” Tommy explained. “Tinkle and I just ate a bear.”
“Why, Tommy!” his mother said. “Aren’t you ashamed? You know you never ate a bear.”
But Tinkle and Tommy giggled because they knew they had.
The End
Also Read: The Treasure Island