Bobby is a little orphan boy of about 5 who discovers he has somehow lost his 'birfhday' and decides to go looking for it. This epic quest takes him into strange places and meetings with people who are sometimes scoffing, but mostly kind and helpful to the small tot. Does he find his birfday? Well I can't tell you that, you will just have to listen. If you like warm, sweet stories with a great ending, this is for you! A delightful tale full of whimsy and fun.
By : Lebbeus Mitchell (1879 - 1963)
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Once When Bobby Wasn't Left Behind
Bobby North went out into the front yard by the iron gate between the two tall stone columns to watch the horses and wagons and 'mobiles traveling up and down that invitingly dusty and mysterious road that he was forbidden ever to set foot upon.
He knew he could crawl under the gate, he was so little, and raise clouds of dust by dragging his feet in the road as two small boys did who passed by and stopped to gaze in wonder at Bobby and at the big brick house set back in the yard among some trees. He wondered if the Supe'tendent would really send him to bed without anything to eat if he disobeyed her just this once and slipped under the gate, out into the road for as many as forty or a dozen minutes.
He was afraid she really might, and was standing with face pressed against the iron bars of the gate when a man drove up back of him with a buggy jammed as full as it would hold of boys and girls from the Home.
"Bobby North!" cried the sharp, irritated voice of the Supe'tendent. "How many times must I tell you to keep away from that gate!"
He turned clear around and saw on the porch the tall, thin figure of the Supe'tendent. The man in the buggy jumped out to open the gate. Bobby stepped back from the graveled road, for he knew by experience that it is always safer, if you are a small boy, to keep out of the way of grown-up folks—then they can't scold you for doing something you mustn't, or not doing something you should, even when you had never thought of doing either one.
He looked up longingly at the buggy load of boys and girls who were going to explore the mysteries of that delightfully dusty road and not coming back for maybe forty or a dozen days. Bobby was used to being left behind and stepped further away, but without taking his lonely eyes off those more fortunate children.
When the man had opened the gate, he stopped and looked at Bobby and then at the Supe'tendent on the porch. He came directly towards Bobby as he kept backing away, caught him up in his arms and tossed him into the lap of the lady who sat on the front seat!
"You'd like a whole week in the country, too, wouldn't you?" said the man.
"Yes'm."
Bobby was so surprised that that was all he could think of to say.
"I'm afraid he will be too much trouble for you," called the Supe'tendent. "He's so young."
Bobby steeled his heart and started to climb down from the lady's lap, but his lower lip twitched in spite of his effort to keep it steady.
"Nonsense!" exclaimed the man, as he led the horses out into the road, shut the gate, jumped into the seat by the woman and drove off in a cloud of dust. He didn't seem to be at all afraid of the much-to-be-feared Supe'tendent!
Bobby was so glad to be riding away from the Home that he thought he almost liked the Supe'tendent this once, and looked back and waved good-bye to her. She stood there stiff and angry and did not reply.
Thus it came about that Bobby North had his first trip away from the Home that he could remember. The week at Mr. and Mrs. Robert Eller's in the country was a glorious time—days to be remembered by all the red letters on the playing blocks that were sometimes given him on a Sunday to keep him quiet.
Besides the calves and little pigs, the clover field and the daisies in the yard, there was the two-months' old puppy that Mr. Eller's little boy told him was a St. Bernard. It soon became the chief delight of this puppy to chase Bobby about the yard and trip him and then, when he fell headlong, to lick his hands and face affectionately with a moist, red tongue. The man never once objected to his playing with the awkward and much-to-be-desired puppy all day long.
He was an answer to ardent and secret prayer, this Man Who Lets You Play with the Puppy, and Bobby looked up to him with a great deal of awe; his words carried the weight of authority. He seemed to understand what small boys want, to know that the greatest of all treasures, a real live puppy, is good for them.
Thus the happy days in the country passed like magic.
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