Stories at the Door Read online

  Text copyright © 2007 by Jan Andrews

  Illustrations copyright © 2007 by Francis Blake

  Published in Canada by Tundra Books,

  One Toronto Street, Suite 300, Toronto, Ontario M5C 2V6

  Published in the United States by Tundra Books of Northern New York,

  P.O. Box 1030, Plattsburgh, New York 12901

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2006909136

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher — or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency — is an infringement of the copyright law.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Andrews, Jan, 1942-

  Stories at the door / Jan Andrews; illustrated by Francis Blake.

  eISBN: 978-1-77049-905-8

  1. Tales—Juvenile fiction. I. Blake, Francis II. Title.

  PS8551.N37S76 2007 jC813’.54 C2006-905783-4

  We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP) and that of the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Media Development Corporation’s Ontario Book Initiative. We further acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program.

  v3.1

  To Marie, for leaps of faith

  J.A.

  For Lilly and for Louise

  F.B.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Jesper and the Jackrabbits

  Jacinthe Wins Words

  A Cat and Mouse Tale

  Jamilla Finds Fear

  Jack Gets His Fire

  Jane Saves the Day

  A Note on Sources

  What’s that at the door?

  It’s a story! A story by gosh and by gum.

  I can see from its nose and its whiskers.

  I can see from its tail and its tum.

  It stopped on the step for a moment.

  It dithered a while on the mat.

  But now it’s come in. It’s about to begin.

  It’s even hung up its own hat.

  Once upon a time — that wasn’t your time or my time — there was a lumber baron. There was also a lad named Jesper. The lumber baron lived in a fancy, great house in a town by a river. He’d made his money out of other men’s work at the logging. He was big and fat and rich.

  Jesper lived with his mother and his father and his two older brothers on a little wee farm where the soil was mean and rocky. He was like all the rest of the family. He was small and thin and poor.

  The lumber baron had a daughter. He wanted to find a husband for her, so he sent word to all his friends and neighbors — and rich folks far away even — saying that any man who wanted to make her his bride should come.

  When that man came, he should bring something rare with him. If that thing was rare enough, he’d be allowed to try certain tests.

  There was many a man arrived. The lumber baron soon had more rare things than he knew what to do with. Rare birds, rare beasts; rare cloth and clothes and carriages; rare tables and rare chairs; rare pots and plates and ornaments; rare unmentionables. Unfortunately, none of the suitors for his daughter’s hand had any brains in their heads. The baron’s tests got easier and easier, but there wasn’t a one of the suitors could succeed at even the simplest task.

  Word of the contest spread. Poor as they were, even Jesper’s family got to hear about it.

  “Wouldn’t that be fine then — to marry the lumber baron’s daughter?” the oldest brother said.

  “We don’t have something rare to take to him,” the middle brother answered.

  Jesper didn’t say anything. He often didn’t when his older brothers were around.

  Here’s what’s strange, though. Just that very day their father was plowing a new piece of land. The plow was going along and going along and then it got stuck. The father thought the blade had caught on a bit of leftover root, but it hadn’t. The blade had caught on an ancient, buried chest. The father brought the brothers to help him dig the chest out.

  Here’s what’s stranger. When they opened the lid, they found that inside there were golden coins and diamonds. There was also a round, metal object with a date set on it. The date was 1603.

  The father was pleased enough, because now his sons could have their chance. He told the brothers to choose what they wanted. The oldest brother chose the gold coins. The middle brother chose the diamonds. Jesper had to take the round metal object with the date on it. What did his brothers care about that?

  The oldest brother put his gold coins in a basket. He covered the basket with a cloth. Early next morning, he set off. He walked a ways and walked a ways. In the road he came upon a column of ants. They were bringing food back to their nest, but they had to go down into this hollow and up the other side again to get there. The hollow made a longer journey.

  “Would you smooth the road out for us?” the king of the ants called up to him.

  “I’m in too much of a hurry. I’m going to marry the lumber baron’s daughter,” the oldest brother answered.

  He hardly even stopped to catch his breath.

  When it was getting to be almost lunchtime, he came upon an old woman sitting beside the road.

  “What are you carrying?” she asked him.

  He reckoned he was much too smart to tell her he had gold coins with him. “Ashes,” he answered.

  The old woman gave a smile and a wave to him. “Ashes it be,” she said.

  On he went again. He came to the town. He got directions to the lumber baron’s house; he knocked on the door.

  “What have you brought me?” the lumber baron asked him.

  “Gold coins,” the oldest brother said.

  He lifted the cloth. The gold coins were there all right; they were gleaming. But they turned to ashes before the lumber baron’s eyes. The ashes were gray and cold and dusty. They got up the lumber baron’s nose.

  The oldest brother was sent home. He didn’t tell about what had happened and the middle brother didn’t ask.

  “Diamonds are better than gold, for certain,” the middle brother said.

  He took that same basket. He put his diamonds into it. He covered it with a cloth.

  Oh, he was excited. So excited, he didn’t even notice the ants till he was almost treading on them.

  “Would you smooth the road out for us?” the king of the ants called up to him.

  The middle brother didn’t even bother to answer. When it was just about lunchtime, he came to the old woman. She was still there, sitting beside the road.

  “What is it you’re carrying?” she asked him.

  Would I be such a fool as to tell her? he thought to himself. “Ducklings,” he answered.

  “Ducklings it be,” she said.

  Ducklings it was, too. The lumber baron had just long enough to catch a glimpse of the diamonds and be all thrilled about them, before the diamonds turned to ducklings in front of his very eyes. The ducklings went cheeping and scrambling out of the basket; they waddled into all sorts of places where they weren’t supposed to go.

  That was it for the middle brother too, then.

  Jesper had been polishing up the metal object and oiling it while his two older brothers had been off on their adventures. He’d discovered the arrow part that went across it could move.

  The next morning, he dressed himself in his cleanest, least-old
shirt. He put on his Sunday suit that was handed down to him when his middle brother had grown out of it. He put on his Sunday boots that didn’t have so many holes. He set the metal object in the basket. He covered the basket with a cloth.

  His brothers didn’t even notice him going. Still, he set out laughing and singing a tune. He walked a ways and walked a ways. He came to where the ants were working to get their food home.

  “Will you smooth the road out for us?” the king of the ants called up to him.

  “Of course, I will,” he said.

  He waited for all the ants to climb up safely out of the hollow. He smoothed the road until it was flat.

  “That was a great kindness,” the king of the ants said to him. “If you should need us, you have only to think of us and we will come.”

  “I’ll remember that,” said Jesper.

  Off he went again, laughing and singing some more. He came to the old woman.

  “What is it you’re carrying?” she asked him.

  “It’s something rare,” he told her.

  “Will you show it to me?” she asked him.

  “Of course, I will,” he said, and he got the metal object out.

  “That is rare,” the old woman said, when she’d finished looking at it.

  “Do you know what it is?” Jesper asked her.

  She looked again — more carefully. She held the object up. She moved the arrow part about. “I’d say it’s what a long-ago explorer might have used to find his way,” she answered finally. “Maybe that famous Samuel de Champlain fellow even.”

  “I’ll remember that,” said Jesper.

  “Do you have any lunch with you?” the old woman asked him.

  “I have some bread,” he told her.

  “Will you share it with me?” the old woman asked him.

  “Of course, I will,” said Jesper.

  Jesper took out the bread and broke it. He gave the old woman the biggest piece.

  “Here’s something for you,” she said, when they’d finished eating. “It’s a whistle, but there’s a magic to it. One blow on it and whatever you’ve lost will come back.”

  “I’ll remember that,” said Jesper.

  He thanked the old woman very much. Off he went again, still laughing and singing. It was evening, almost, before he came to the lumber baron’s great, big door and got shown into the lumber baron’s great, big house.

  “What have your brought me?” the lumber baron asked him.

  “Something old,” said Jesper, pointing out the date. “Something rare.”

  The lumber baron couldn’t deny that.

  “You’ll have to say what it’s for,” the lumber baron insisted.

  Jesper held the object up. He moved the arrow part. “A long-ago explorer found his way with it. Maybe the famous Samuel de Champlain even,” he answered.

  The lumber baron looked Jesper over more closely. He saw his least-old shirt and his handed-down suit and his boots with the not-so-many holes in.

  The lumber baron waited. He was hoping the old, rare object would turn into something else. The old, rare object sat there in the basket.

  “You’ll have to take the tests. The first one’s in the morning,” the lumber baron said.

  The lumber baron went to bed to rack his brains.

  When Jesper came back — in the morning — he was met by one of the lumber baron’s servants. The servant took him to a lumber mill. The servant showed him a pile of sawdust, higher than his head.

  “There’s all kinds of wood in there. There’s dust from pine and spruce and maple and birch and oak, and you’re to sort it. And you’re to have it done by evening,” the servant said.

  Jesper scratched his head, but not for very long.

  He thought about the ants. They came, just like they’d promised. By the time the servant got back in the evening, there was a heap of pine sawdust and a heap of spruce sawdust; a heap of maple sawdust and a heap of birch sawdust; a heap of oak sawdust and a heap of basswood sawdust that the servant hadn’t even spoken of. Jesper was stretched out having a nap.

  The lumber baron told Jesper to come back the next day. The lumber baron went to bed to rack his brains again.

  This time when the servant came, he took Jesper to a field. In the field there were one hundred cages. In each of the cages there was a jackrabbit.

  “You’re to guard the jackrabbits all day and not lose even a one of them,” the servant said.

  The servant went from one cage to another. He let the jackrabbits out. Off they went, the whole lot of them, their tails bobbing; a hundred jackrabbits in a hundred different directions. Soon enough, there wasn’t a jackrabbit to be seen.

  Jesper scratched his head, but not for very long.

  He waited until the servant was out of sight. He took the old woman’s whistle from his pocket. He gave a little, small tweet on it. The jackrabbits all came bounding back.

  “You’re to stay in the field,” he told them. “You can nibble the grass to your hearts’ content, but you’re not to leave.”

  A couple of hours later, when the servant arrived to see how things were going, there was Jesper sitting in the sun. The jackrabbits were nibbling away all round him. The servant couldn’t believe his eyes. He went and told the lumber baron. The lumber baron told his daughter and his wife.

  Not so very long after that a girl came to the field, all dressed in rags.

  “I’ve nothing to eat for my supper and no money,” she said to Jesper. “Will you give me one of your jackrabbits to cook?”

  Jesper looked her up and he looked her down and he thought a little. By then, the girl in rags was crying.

  “Of course, I’ll give you one of my jackrabbits,” he answered. “I’ll give you one of my jackrabbits, if you’ll give me a kiss on the cheek.”

  The girl in rags wasn’t too pleased. She kissed him on the cheek anyway. She kissed him where he showed her. Jesper caught one of the jackrabbits and gave it to her. She started to carry it off. As soon as she stepped from the field, he blew the whistle. A kick and a squirm. The jackrabbit was out of the girl’s arms and at Jesper’s feet once more, before she could barely blink.

  Jesper sat down in the sun again. In half an hour or so, a woman came walking to the field. She was even more poorly dressed than the girl had been.

  “It’s terrible,” she said. “I’ve nothing to feed my children. Would you give me just one of your jackrabbits to make a stew with?”

  Jesper looked her up and he looked her down and he thought a little.

  She was crying also. She was crying very loudly, indeed.

  “Of course, I’ll give you one of my jackrabbits,” he said to her. “But it’s a long day, sitting here watching. I’m in need of some entertainment. I’ll give you one of my jackrabbits if you’ll go round and round me, flapping your arms and squatting down here and there and clucking like a hen.”

  “I can’t do that,” said the woman.

  “I’m sorry then,” said Jesper.

  “Since it’s for my children …” said the woman.

  Off she went, flapping her arms and squatting about and clucking. Three times round, like Jesper told her. He caught one of the jackrabbits. He gave it to her. She started to carry it off. No sooner had she stepped from the field, than he blew his whistle. A flick of its nose and a wiggle. The jackrabbit was at his feet.

  Hardly any time after that, Jesper saw a man approaching. The man was wearing a jerkin, like a servant’s.

  “It’s on my master’s behalf I’ve come,” the man said. “My master wants a jackrabbit for his dinner. If I don’t get it for him, I’ll lose my position. I’m only asking for one.”

  Jesper looked the man up and he looked him down and he thought a little. The man was shaking. He was rubbing his hands together in fear.

  “Of course, I’ll give you one of my jackrabbits,” said Jesper. “But I’m still in need of entertainment. I’ll give you one of my jackrabbits, if you’ll stand on your
head and kick your heels together and call out ‘Hurrah.’ ”

  “I can’t do that,” said the man.

  “I’ll help you,” said Jesper.

  He did, too. He had the man standing on his head and kicking his heels together and shouting out “Hurrah,” in two seconds flat.

  The man got his jackrabbit. The man set one foot outside the field. Jesper blew on his whistle. A twitch of its ears and a shiggle. The jackrabbit was at Jesper’s feet.

  That was it. Nothing else happened. The day came to an end. The jackrabbits were counted. There wasn’t a one that was missing.

  The lumber baron was desperate. So were his daughter and his wife. The lumber baron told Jesper to come back the next day. The lumber baron went to bed to rack his brains once more. All night, he worried and worried but, by the morning, he had an idea.

  When Jesper arrived there were a lot a people gathered. The lumber baron had summoned all of his friends and his neighbors to be witnesses. In the middle of the room, there was a barrel — a cask such as might be used for keeping wine or salt meat.

  “You’re to set this barrel brimming with complete and utter truths,” the lumber baron said.

  “How will I know when it’s full?” asked Jesper.

  “I’ll know and I’ll tell you,” the lumber baron answered.

  A little laugh went round.

  Jesper scratched his head, but not for very long.

  “Here’s what we’ll start with,” he said. “It has to do with yesterday when I was minding the jackrabbits. A girl came to me. She was pretty, but she was dressed in rags and she was poor. She said she was hungry. She wanted me to give her a jackrabbit to cook for her supper. I told her I would, but there was one condition. She must give me a kiss, right here, on my cheek. I thought she wouldn’t, but she did.”

  “You can’t prove that,” said the lumber baron.

  “I can,” said Jesper. “For I can see the girl right here.”

  “Which one is she?” said the lumber baron.