Centerburg Tales Read online

  “Four thousand dozen,” said the jeweler.

  “Four thousand dozen times twenty-five cents is one thousand dollars’ tax,” said the banker, “and we still have several thousand dozen seeds inside the jar to count!”

  “Looks like the town is going to make money on this tax,” said the jeweler.

  “No, it ain’t!” cried Dulcy. “Not from me it ain’t!” He counted out a thousand dollars and slammed the money down on the table. “There’s your durned thousand, and I’m keeping my expenses!” Then he headed for the door.

  “Just a minute, Dulcy!” called Uncle Ulysses. “There are a lot more o’ yer seeds to count and tax.”

  “My seeds, my eye!” shouted Dulcy. “You can shove ’em all in your shoe! I never want to look at another seed!” And he slammed the door of the lunchroom on his way out.

  “What are you going to do with the seeds, Uncle Ulysses?” asked Homer.

  “Oh, hello, boys,” Uncle Ulysses said. “You’re just the fellows we need here. Homer, Freddy, you finish countin’ these things. It’s pretty fine work and takes a young, sharp eye. We old fellows are pretty tired, and besides, we better go across to the barbershop and report to the mayor.”

  Homer and Freddy started counting and the committee went off to make its report.

  “Gosh, Homer,” Freddy complained, “there’s still thousands of seeds here to count and it will take all night! I don’t see why they have to be counted anyway. Dulcy isn’t going to pay any more tax on them.”

  “It’s important to count them, though,” said Homer. “You know something, Freddy, counting and keeping track of every single one of these seeds is just about the most important job in Centerburg.”

  “More important than being mayor?” asked Freddy.

  “Sure,” said Homer, “because if one single seed got lost, it might grow into a giant-size ragweed.”

  “Just one giant-size ragweed might not make everybody sneeze so bad, Homer,” said Freddy.

  “Yes, it would too,” Homer said. “If the pollen from one giant ragweed mixed itself with all the common wild ragweed hereabouts, then the next year there would be hybrid ragweed every place.”

  “Gosh, Homer, just like hybrid corn. The hybrid ragweeds would be bigger than ever!” said Freddy.

  Homer nodded his head gravely. “Just supposing somebody subversive, like an enemy, was to capture these seeds, Freddy, and plant them some night right next to the White House and the Capitol!”

  “And the President and the senators and representatives all started sneezing with hay fever!” Freddy said.

  “Yup,” said Homer. “The President couldn’t hold press conferences and the senators couldn’t make speeches, and I just guess the government would come to a stop. Everything would get tangled up and disrupt the country. You see, counting these seeds is super important!” And he picked up the magnifying glass and started to count giant ragweed seeds.

  Over across the town square in the barbershop, Uncle Ulysses and the committee had joined the game of rummy, after they had reported to the mayor.

  “It’s your turn to draw a card, Ulysses,” said the sheriff.

  “Queen of seeds,” said Uncle Ulysses, turning over a card. “Zeus!” he said. “I keep seein’ those things in front o’ my eyes. Reminds me, I better call up the lunchroom and see how Homer and Freddy are gettin’ along.” He picked up the phone and gave the number. “Hello, Homer? How’re you makin’ out? Still have a lot to count, eh?” Uncle Ulysses listened for a minute and then he said, “We thought we’d just lock ’em up in the bank again. Nobody would ever think of plantin’ a crop of ragweeds—except Dulcy, that is. If they knew what they was plantin’, they wouldn’t.” Uncle Ulysses listened again and stopped smiling; then he looked worried. “Homer,” he said, trying to control his voice, “you just keep right on countin’ and be extra careful not to lose a single seed. Don’t you worry, son, we’ll talk it over and think of a way to get rid of ’em somehow.” Uncle Ulysses hung up the receiver and went back to the rummy game with terror in his eyes and fear in his heart.

  “Men,” said Uncle Ulysses gravely, “we’ve got to think hard or this country will be one big sneeze clear from the Atlantic to the Pacific coast! Why, one single enemy plane could sow those seeds from New York to San Francisco in a couple of hours!”

  “What are you raving about, Ulysses?” asked the barber.

  “It’s the strain of counting all those little seeds that’s got him upset, I guess,” said the banker.

  “I’m not ravin’!” said Uncle Ulysses, glaring wildly at the rummy players. “You men put down your cards and listen to me. We have to think and think fast of a way to get rid of those seeds. If the wrong kind of people were to get hold of ’em, it would mean the ruin of this country!”

  “Shucks, Ulysses, we’re going to lock ’em up again in the safe deposit vault, so stop worrying and let’s get on with the game!” said the printer.

  “Stop being so—so—so complacent,” Uncle Ulysses sputtered. “Banks get robbed almost every day and you know it.” Then he looked over his shoulder and leaned way over close and whispered hoarsely, “And the kind of people I mean wouldn’t stop at nothing!”

  “I’ll lock them ragweed seeds in the jail,” said the sheriff triumphantly. “That’ll stop ’em!”

  “Rubbish,” said Uncle Ulysses. “As many as twenty people have broken out of your jail, Sheriff, and it’s a durned sight easier to break in. Besides, the jail has got mice. Suppose some mouse was to take some of those seeds home to a hole in the ground to feed his family? Then where’d we be? Right back where we were with Dulcy, only this time we might not act in time.” Uncle Ulysses was excited now and he shouted, “Bees and bugs! We’ll have to get rid of ’em so they won’t find ’em! I tell ya, men, if the pollen from just one of these giant ragweeds gets loose and mixes with our wild ragweeds, we’ll have hybrid ragweeds bigger even than the giant ragweeds.”

  All the men finally realized the seriousness of the situation, and they sat glancing uneasily at one another. The mayor was the first to move; he dashed over to the window and looked across the deserted square at the lunchroom.

  “There’s no use worrying those two boys about this,” he said. “But we had better post a guard outside while they finish their counting. Sheriff,” he ordered, “you take your gun and cover the front entrance. And Biggs,” he said, handing the barber his keys, “you’ll find a revolver in the upper right-hand drawer of my desk. You guard the back entrance. The rest of us will stay here and try to dope out a solution to this problem. In case of trouble, fire a shot into the air and we’ll be right over to help out.”

  The sheriff and the barber went out the door, and the rest of the men drew their chairs up close together for a conference.

  “Now then,” said the mayor, “let’s decide what to do.”

  Nobody said anything for some minutes. They all sat thinking. Then Uncle Ulysses said, “Well, let’s decide.”

  “I’ve heard tell that birds sometimes plant seeds in out-of-the-way places,” said the banker.

  “Yeh, birds and mice and bugs. We have to dispose of them some way so they won’t get at them,” said Uncle Ulysses.

  “The most important thing is to keep these ragweed seeds from falling into the hands of enemy agents,” said Lawyer Stobbs. “Sneezing could seriously impair the functioning of the executive and the judicial as well as the legislative branches of our federal government.”

  “What can we do with them? Where can we put them? How can we get rid of them so not one seed can fall into the hands of some enemy agent? Or mouse? Or bird? Or bug?” asked Uncle Ulysses, pacing up and down.

  “The bank wouldn’t be safe,” said the banker.

  “It wouldn’t be safe to bury the seeds,” said the printer.

  “If we hid them inside a mattress, the mice would find them,” said the mayor.

  “I was thinking, if we were to hide them up at the very top of the c
ourthouse tower it might be a good place, but the—”

  “Pigeons!” everybody said at once.

  “Of course,” said Uncle Ulysses, “if we had the time, we could have a special burglar-bug-bird-and-mouse-proof container made to order, something like the Time Capsule that they buried at the World’s Fair. That would take months, and it would be a tremendous responsibility to guard those seeds day and night until then.”

  “I’m for calling in the FBI right now,” said the banker. “There isn’t a single place under the earth, on the earth, or a steeple over the earth that’s a safe place to hide those seeds.”

  “The ocean!” shouted Uncle Ulysses. “The Atlantic Ocean! The sheriff could take the seeds to Atlantic City and hire a boat to take him to a nice deep spot. Then he could toss the ragweed seeds overboard, and that would be that.”

  “That’s it, Ulysses,” said the mayor. “There’s a train for the East that goes through here at twelve-forty tonight. We’ll send the sheriff to Atlantic City to sink those seeds!”

  “I’ve got a metal cashbox with a lock and a nice handle,” said the banker. “The sheriff could carry the seeds in that and handcuff it to his wrist, so nobody could steal it on the train.”

  “And I’ve got some heavy lead type to put in the box just to make sure it’ll sink,” said the printer.

  “Fine,” said the mayor. “You two fellows get the box and weight it with type, and Lawyer Stobbs, you relieve the sheriff at the front of the lunchroom, so he can go home and pack. Ulysses and myself will call the station and make reservations for the sheriff on the twelve-forty.”

  In shortly less than half an hour the box was ready and back at the barbershop; and five minutes later the sheriff came in carrying his bag, all packed and ready to go. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and one side he fastened to his wrist and the other he snapped through the handle of the box.

  “You mustn’t forget to unfasten yourself before you toss the box, Sheriff,” said the printer with a smile.

  “This is no time for joking,” said the mayor severely. “Now, Sheriff, you realize how much depends on you. Don’t speak to strangers on the train,” he cautioned, “and as soon as you get to Atlantic City, hire a boat and go out and sink the seeds.”

  “You can depend on me, Mayor!” promised the sheriff.

  “All right,” said the mayor, “let’s go over to the lunchroom and pick up the seeds.”

  The mayor led the way across the town square, followed by Uncle Ulysses, the sheriff, the banker, and the printer. Lawyer Stobbs, gun in hand, met them at the door of the lunchroom.

  “Everything all right inside?” Uncle Ulysses asked in a whisper.

  “Yes,” whispered the lawyer, “I think they’re all finished with counting. Sh-h! What’s that!” he said, pointing his gun out into the shadows of the square.

  After a tense moment of waiting, the postmaster’s dog came up wagging his tail. Everybody relaxed and Uncle Ulysses chuckled, “That dog can smell doughnuts cookin’ a mile away! Come on. Let’s go inside and pack up the seeds and get something to eat. I’m hungry.” He opened the door and went in, followed by all the men and the postmaster’s dog.

  “Hello, boys. All through counting, I see,” said the mayor.

  “Ah-h!” exclaimed Uncle Ulysses. “Very thoughtful of you, Homer, to make some doughnuts. The sheriff can take some with him for a snack on the train, and we’re all pretty hungry right this minute.” He paused to admire his automatic doughnut machine make doughnuts. And as he watched, the machine stopped.

  Uncle Ulysses, who had started passing out the hot doughnuts, said, “You didn’t mix up enough batter. You should have made more.”

  “But, Uncle Ulysses, we only meant to make a dozen,” said Homer.

  “Yeah,” said Freddy, who had been counting the doughnuts as they came out of the machine. “We only meant to make a dozen.” Then he added miserably, “But it turned out to be thirteen!”

  “Well, there’s enough to go around, so help yourselves, everybody,” Uncle Ulysses offered.

  “But Uncle Ulysses—” said Homer.

  “Freddy, you go to the back door and call the barber,” Uncle Ulysses said, suddenly remembering that the barber was still guarding the rear.

  “Uncle Ulysses—” Homer started to say.

  “Let’s get the seeds in the box and locked up,” said the mayor, taking a bite of doughnut, “and then I’d like a cup of coffee.”

  Freddy came back with the barber, and Uncle Ulysses handed him a doughnut. Then he turned to Homer. “Get the ragweed seeds, son, and put them in that box the sheriff’s got danglin’ from his wrist.”

  “But, Uncle Ulysses,” said Homer, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Then he asked, “Have you ever heard of a berry growing into a berry bush after it had once been cooked into a pie?”

  Uncle Ulysses had his mouth full of doughnut and so did all the other men, so they all shook their heads “no.”

  “Have you ever heard of a nut growing into a nut tree after being baked into a cookie?” Homer asked.

  And again all the men nodded their heads, because they were chewing doughnut and trying to swallow.

  “Popcorn won’t grow after it’s been popped either,” said Freddy, “because I tried it once.”

  Uncle Ulysses gulped and said, “Homer, you’re a good boy, it’s gettin’ late, and you and Freddy run along home now.”

  After Homer and Freddy had gone the mayor fed the rest of his doughnut to the postmaster’s dog. So did Uncle Ulysses and the barber and the jeweler, the printer, the banker, the sheriff, and Lawyer Stobbs. Then they fed him the rest of the doughnuts and watched silently while he ate up every last crumb. As the last crumb disappeared the sheriff said, “There goes my trip to Atlantic City.”

  And the barber said, “From now on, every time I look at that dog or even mail a letter, I’ll probably have to sn-sn-s-s-ssharah-choowh!”

  EVER SO MUCH MORE SO

  EVER SO MUCH MORE SO

  THE EARLY afternoon spring sunshine came peeping into the lunchroom and reflected off the stainless steel trim of Uncle Ulysses’ unpredictable automatic doughnut machine.

  The sun reflected off the shiny metal and right into the eyes of Uncle Ulysses, who was settled comfortably at the counter, having an after-lunch chat with the sheriff and the judge.

  Uncle Ulysses blinked his eyes and thought, “I’ll have to get up and go all the way outside to wind that awning down. Ought to put a motor on it,” he thought, “with a button under the counter, to save all those steps and all the winding.” Then he yawned out loud and shifted his position just enough to allow the reflection to go over his shoulder.

  “Put a button on it,” he said, thinking out loud, much to the confusion of the judge and the sheriff.

  “Put what?” asked Homer, who was wiping crumbs off the counter.

  “Oh, yes, Homer,” said Uncle Ulysses with a start. “Put the awning down, like a good fellow, would you please?”

  “Okay, Uncle Ulysses,” said Homer and, after wiping a pile of crumbs off the counter into his apron, he hustled outside and shook them onto the curb. He watched while the Centerburg town-hall pigeons started arriving to eat crumbs, then hustled back across the walk and wound down the awning.

  “Thank you, Homer,” said Uncle Ulysses as Homer came back into the lunchroom.

  “Everything look feacepul—I mean peaceful—and law abidin’ out on the square?” the sheriff demanded of Homer.

  “Dulcy Dooner is headed in this direction,” Homer said.

  “Ah-h!” said the judge. “That exceedingly uncooperative citizen of our community!”

  They all turned and watched through the window of the lunchroom while Dulcy paused next to the monument. The sheriff bristled when Dulcy struck a match on the bronze tablet, casually lit his pipe, and flipped the burned match in the general direction of the statue of “Peace.” Then he came on toward the lunchroom, detouring slightly in
order to scuffle through the crumbs and frighten a few pigeons.

  Slam! went the door of the lunchroom as Dulcy came in. But the sheriff, the judge, Uncle Ulysses, and Homer hardly jumped. They all knew how Dulcy closed doors.

  “What are you up to these days, Dulcy?” asked the sheriff, eying Dulcy carefully as though expecting to find something like packages of strange seeds or bottles of elixir sticking out of his pockets.

  “Always suspectin’ me!” complained Dulcy. “Sheriff, you’re the most suspicious guy in the state of Ohio!”

  “In view of several unfortunate occurrences attributable directly to certain actions of one Dulcy Dooner, I am of the opinion,” the judge proclaimed in his usual pompous way, “that the suspicions of our sheriff are entirely justified.”

  “Good afternoon, my friends!” said a strange voice, and the judge, the sheriff, Uncle Ulysses, Dulcy Dooner, and Homer turned to see a stranger walk in the door. He had a case under one arm and a folding stand under the other.

  “Good afternoon, my friends,” he repeated. “You are without doubt the most fortunate people in the world—and in just one minute, yes, one short sixty seconds of your valuable time, I am going to make you even more fortunate . . . thankful that I have come to you with this sensational introductory offer!”

  The stranger, after introducing himself as Professor Ear, “Professor Atmos P. H. Ear,” talked on and on, scarcely stopping to take a breath, and at the same time managed to shut the door, tip his hat, unfold his stand, set up his case carefully, and take off his gloves, smiling sweetly all the while.

  “I have in here,” he continued, tapping the lid of his case, “one of the wonders of the world! Yes, my friends, and you are my very good friends, in just one minute I am going to reveal to you a product and make you an offer that will change your life, if you are the kind of people that get a bang out of life,” he exclaimed, emphasizing the bang with a flourish and swat of his gloves on top of his case. “You are the ones, yes, the very people, that will have the good sense, the intelligence, imagination, ability, good judgment, and love of the finer things in life to apply this amazing product to obtain the beneficial blessings, the sense of well being, and complete, yes, complete, satisfaction that this remarkable product has the ability to impart to each and every one.”